tent had given birth to plans of crime--with
no European nearer than the river Pamuco, and no French nearer than the
northern shores of the Mississippi, he resolved to travel on foot to his
countrymen in the North, and renew his attempts at colonisation."

It appears that La Salle left sixty men behind him, and on the 20th of
March, 1686, after a buffalo-hunt, he was murdered by Duhaut and
L'Archeveque, two adventurers, who had embarked their capital in the
enterprise. They had long shewn a spirit of mutiny, and the malignity
of disappointed avarice so maddened them that that they murdered their
unfortunate commander.

I will borrow a page of Bancroft, who is more explicit than the Comanche
chroniclers.

"Leaving sixty men at Fort St. Louis, in January, 1687, La Salle, with
the other portion of his men, departed for Canada. Lading their baggage
on the wild horses from the Cenis, which found their pasture everywhere
in the prairies, in shoes made of green buffalo hides; for want of other
paths, following the track of the buffalo, and using skins as the only
shelter against rain, winning favour with the savages by the confiding
courage of their leader--they ascended the streams towards the first
ridges of highlands, walking through beautiful plains and groves, among
deer and buffaloes,--now fording the clear rivulets, now building a
bridge by felling a giant tree across a stream, till they had passed the
basin of the Colorado, and in the upland country had reached a branch of
the Trinity River.

"In the little company of wanderers there were two men, Duhaut and
L'Archeveque, who had embarked their capital in the enterprise. Of
these, Duhaut had long shewn a spirit of mutiny; the base malignity of
disappointed avarice, maddened by sufferings and impatient of control,
awakened the fiercest passions of ungovernable hatred. Inviting
Moranget to take charge of the fruits of a buffalo hunt, they quarrelled
with him and murdered him.

"Wondering at the delay of his nephew's return, La Salle, on the 20th of
March, went to seek him. At the brink of the river, he observed eagles
hovering, as if over carrion, and he fired an alarm-gun. Warned by the
sound, Duhaut and L'Archeveque crossed the river: the former skulked in
the prairie grass; of the latter, La Salle asked, `Where is my nephew?'
At the moment of the answer, Duhaut fired; and, without uttering a word,
La Salle fell dead. `You are down now, grand bashaw! You a