ission, though in a very
feeble state of health. It is said that he was remarkably genial and
companionable, fond of pleasantry, ever greeting others with pleasant
words and benignant smiles. He had promised the Illinois Indians that
he would return to them, to teach them the religion of peace and
good-will brought to the world by the Son of God.

His health being somewhat recruited, he set out, by direction of his
superiors, with two boatmen, Pierre and Jacques, to establish a mission
among these Indians, who were anxiously awaiting his arrival. The
mission at Green Bay was at the southern extremity of that inland sea.
Taking their canoe and all their effects upon their shoulders, they
crossed the peninsula, which separated the bay from the lake, through
an Indian trail about thirty miles in length. They then launched their
canoe upon the broad surface of Lake Michigan. The cold gales of
November had now begun to plough the surface of this inland sea. Their
progress was very slow. Often the billows were such that the canoe
could not ride safely over them. Then they landed, and, in the chill
November breezes, trudged along the shore, bearing all their effects
upon their shoulders!

Ice formed upon the margin of the water, and several snow-storms
impeded their march, adding greatly to their discomfort. But not a
repining word escaped the lips of Father Marquette. It was but a dismal
shelter they could rear, for the night, on the bleak shore. Through
this exposure his health began rapidly to fail. It took them nearly
four weeks to reach the mouth of the Chicago River. They ascended the
river several leagues, until they came to a small cluster of Indian
wigwams. The savages were poor, but few in number, and their abodes
comfortless. But Pere Marquette was so sick that they could go no
farther. These Indians were of the Miami tribe.

Here the voyagers built a small log-cabin, and, destitute of what many
would deem the absolute necessaries of life, passed the remaining weeks
of the dreary winter. One would suppose that the lone missionary must
at times have contrasted painfully his then situation, with the
luxuries he had enjoyed in the ancestral castle in which he was
cradled. A few wretched wigwams were scattered over the snow-whitened
plains, where poverty, destitution, and repulsive social habits
reigned, such as is perhaps never witnessed in civilized life.

His home was but a cabin of logs, with the interstices stu