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THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
The Lost Empire 
 
 By 
 JAMES R. E. CRAIGHEAD 
 
 Illustrated by 
 
 Elizabeth M. Fisher 
 
 Distributed by 
 The Bond Publishing Company 
 
 OSWEGO. ILLINOIS 
 
Copyright 1926 by 
 James R. E. Craighead 
 
 PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. BY 
 
 FOX VALLEY POINTING COMPANY 
 
 AURORA, ILLINOIS 
 
^vit 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 "The Lost Empire" is a conglomerate, in which 
 traditions, fancies, facts and tales of Starved Rock 
 and other points related to it during the period of 
 French occupancy are preserved in the form of blank 
 verse. It purports to be a description of places and 
 events connected with the building of Fort St. Louis 
 in 1682. The persons figuring in these scenes are 
 LaSalle, Tonti, D'Autray, certain Indian chiefs, woods- 
 men, priests, soldiers, Redmen, an Iroquois spy Mon- 
 ongonee, his adopted daughter Neonee, and LaSalle's 
 hunter-guide Ottonoway. 
 
 The composition came about in this manner. Sev- 
 eral years ago I took a Troop of Boy Scouts from 
 Oswego, Illinois, to camp at Starved Rock Park. The 
 natural attractions of the place appealed greatly to all 
 of us, and I tried to find something in story form at 
 the hotel news stand which I could tell to the boys 
 around the camp fire. Not a shred of anything ro- 
 mantic was to be had, however, so I was compelled 
 to wait until a later time to discover any such material. 
 In the meantime my brain cells began to project their 
 own creations, especially since sleep did not come read- 
 ily with the care of two dozen lively boys on my hands. 
 In the stillness of the night while the whippoorwills 
 wailed all around the camp and an owl boomed occa- 
 
sionally from his tree in the vicinity of Wild Cat Can- 
 yon, the glens became peopled with Indians once more, 
 and La Salle and his companions began to figure quite 
 realistically in my visions. 
 
 Since then I have tried to become better acquainted 
 with these characters, without neglecting other duties 
 and have greatly enjoyed the little journeys made into 
 the historic conditions of two hundred and fifty years 
 ago. 
 
 Certain of the incidents described in the volume 
 took place in the valleys of the Illinois, Vermilion, 
 Richelieu and St. Lawrence and the collation of these 
 ;events has helped to make this composition a con- 
 glomerate. 
 
 For the sake of convenience the material has been 
 arranged in six books of four divisions each. The 
 first division of each of these has little to do with the 
 story attempted but seeks to suggest the setting of what 
 follows, and if one will attempt to visualize the scenes 
 under the conditions of the period portrayed and in 
 the surroundings preserved in one of our most historic 
 Parks of the Middle West, some of the pleasure the 
 writer enjoyed in penning these pages will be realized 
 by the reader. This at least is my sincere desire. 
 
 Oswego, Illinois Jas. R. E. Craighead. 
 
 June 3, 1926 
 
CONTENTS 
 Book I. 
 
 1. Starved Rock 1 
 
 2. The Coming of La Salle 3 
 
 3. The Canyons 12 
 
 4. The Buffalo Hunt 16 
 
 Book II. 
 
 1. The Indian 23 
 
 2. The Assembly 24 
 
 3. The Council 29 
 
 4. The Enemy 36 
 
 Book III. 
 
 1. The Frontiersmen 45 
 
 2. The Building of the Fort 47 
 
 3. D'Autray's Story 52 
 
 4. Monongonee 61 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 1. Their Homely Joys 65 
 
 2. Tonti's Mission 61 
 
 3. The Opening of the Fort 73 
 
 4. The Calumet Dance 84 
 
 Book V. 
 
 1. The Deepening of the Spring 91 
 
 2. The Canyon of the Deer 93 
 
 3. Neonee 97 
 
 4. As Flies the Crow 103 
 
 Book VI. 
 
 1. The August Blight 107 
 
 2. La Salle's Lament 108 
 
 3. The Iroquois 112 
 
 4. The Lover's Leap 120 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 1. STARVED ROCK 
 
 Earth spreads her map of wonders round this Rock 
 
 And tells a pageant story of the past, 
 
 Of epochs reckoned by a million years, 
 
 Of countless dynasties of bird and beast, 
 
 Of battles waged in elemental wars, 
 
 And wreck of mountains overturned; and rocks 
 
 Upheaved and gored by glaciers' grinding horns, 
 
 Till nature spread upon the scarred remains 
 
 Her healing robe and bound the gaping wounds 
 
 And wooed the mangled form to life again. 
 
 Or should the gleaming river on her course 
 Like some fair creature in her turn respond 
 With whispers such as happy lovers use, 
 And tell what scenes her never sleeping eyes 
 Beheld upon her banks, and all that pressed 
 Upon her breast in hopeful argosy 
 And daring enterprise, and love's brave quest, 
 Her narrative were rich with history's lore. 
 
 To catch these tales and whispers of the past 
 My pen essays, and neath the plume-like pines, 
 The stalwart oaks, the vine-draped shelves of cliff 
 My soul would come as reverent pilgrim might 
 
2 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Within the temple gates to praise his God; 
 For here, as at bleak Horeb's cave are left 
 The marks of power, in water-carven glen, 
 And highway cloven to the sea by flood, 
 To show Who passed this way in majesty. 
 And still the surety of His presence bides 
 On quiet meadows sleeping in the sun; 
 On waters glinting soft beneath the stars, 
 On islands fringed by sharp-reflected trees, 
 On forests stirring restless as the sea, 
 On cliff-bound hills fresh-scarred by Labor's hand, 
 On homesteads where the seals of peace are set, 
 On cities where the smoky pillars rest. 
 
 Here underneath these blue and bending skies 
 
 Which smile o'er leagues of fertile valley fields, 
 
 The Indians built their rude metropolis, 
 
 And ploughed the river with their bark canoes. 
 
 Here on this vantage Rock the Frenchmen stood 
 
 And dreamed of Empire stretched from Sea to Gulf, 
 
 Where wafted lilies of the fleur-de-lis, 
 
 And rose the cross on myriad stately spires. 
 
 Here Destiny a shifting fortune framed 
 
 And passed the scepter to the English power 
 
 Which in its turn gave way to nobler sons 
 
 Who sought the larger freedom of the soul. 
 
 So enter in with me these templed haunts 
 Which lie around our famous northern Rock, 
 And listen whilst my silvan Muse relates 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 3 
 
 The whispers of the water and the wood; 
 The weird traditions of the races gone. 
 
 2. THE COMING OF LA SALLE 
 
 Above La Vantum's range of wooded hills 
 The sun hung low among the opal mists 
 Which marked the Indian summer's late decline, 
 When up the western waterway that flowed 
 Before *Kaskaskia's stretch of Redmen's huts 
 Four birch canoes pressed steadily against 
 The placid river's course until abreast 
 The village, where hut, lodge, and wigwam lay 
 As though asleep within the drowsy haze. 
 No warriors lounged upon the vacant grounds, 
 Nor naked children played upon the paths, — 
 The hush of evening rested on the place 
 And stillness brooded like a nesting dove. 
 Apprized of this unwonted quietude 
 The men within their laden vessels paused, 
 And he who led the fleet of water craft 
 Gave silent signal to the voyageurs, 
 And guardedly the paddlers put to shore. 
 Here council for a moment stayed advance, 
 And then the leader with his Indian guide 
 Went up the river bank and crossed the space 
 Which lay between the stream and silent town. 
 
 A master was this captain of the band, 
 
 *The French name of the town, La Vantum, and the Indian name, 
 Kaskaskia are used interchangably. 
 
4 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Who strode the path with purpose in his tread, 
 Commanding, straight as is the mountain pine, 
 An Atlas in his strength, his gray eye lit 
 With that strange fire the visionary gleans 
 In hope's mirage and evanescent dreams. 
 An eagle feather crowned his beaver cap 
 And beaded moccasins encased his feet, 
 His deerskin raiment hung with easy grace 
 Upon a sinewy form of regal mold. 
 No weapen in his hand he bore, but held 
 With careful grasp a carven calumet 
 And so advanced upon the Indian town. 
 Beside him moved with lithe and agile tread 
 His youthful hunter-guide, Ottonoway, 
 Who though descended from an eastern tribe 
 Had ranged these western wilds for thirty moons 
 In wider training for his chief's estate, 
 And knew each watercourse and woodland trail, 
 And lore of prairie, wilderness and lake 
 As though a sachem of this far domain. 
 
 So moved these two across the open space, 
 
 And soon they saw a squaw among the huts 
 
 And in the sunshine near her on the ground 
 
 An aged chief sat, too old to longer bend 
 
 The white-ash bow and follow in the chase. 
 
 These they approached. The Indians sensing quick 
 
 The leader to be French betrayed no fear. 
 
 With gentle grace the stranger straightway said, 
 
 "I am La Salle who but two winters since 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Passed on these waters to the west. When here 
 
 The Iroquois had done their hellish work, 
 
 And if I mark aright I saw you then 
 
 With others of your tribe removed far south. " 
 
 Addressed in terms of such respect which spared 
 
 The feelings of a chief who once had fled 
 
 Before his foes the old man made reply 
 
 And gave impassive welcome to his guests 
 
 With answer to each question asked. "The braves,' 
 
 Said he, "had left at noon to start the drive 
 
 Of buffalo toward the rock upstream 
 
 And with the morning run them to the kill; 
 
 Tomorrow there will be much meat in camp 
 
 And still a larger stock the following day, 
 
 And if you strangers share our lodge, the braves 
 
 Will give you fitting welcome on return." 
 
 To him La Salle replied that with his men 
 He'd camp beside the Rock across the stream, 
 And later might return. This said, he left 
 And soon again the birchen water-craft 
 The current crossed toward the southern shore. 
 From far the paddlers saw the castled crag 
 Rise gray and seamed above the shining flood, 
 The white pine clinging on its dizzy shelves 
 And pushing up with stunted growth to brush 
 Their boughs against the roots of other trees 
 On loftier foothold till their free tops waved 
 Defiant as the plume on warrior's crest. 
 A stone's cast from the Rock the trim canoes 
 
6 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Were brought to shore and speedily the camp 
 Was formed and fire set burning to prepare 
 The evening meal. 
 
 Meantime the Sieur La Salle 
 With D'Autray as companion, took a trail 
 That led through sand and crumbling rock to where 
 Behind the bristling crag's bold head they might 
 Climb up and gain the summit's level crest 
 Where waved the pines their signals to the stream. 
 This Sieur La Salle crossed quickly with his mate 
 And from the high Rock's edge drew back a limb 
 Which hid the view in part, then proudly said, 
 u See, is it not as I described the site 
 Where France shall build her throne and here retrieve 
 The loss of centuries." Spell-bound his friend 
 With sweeping gaze looked from the aeried height 
 Across the fertile valley to the hills 
 Where golden Autumn had with artist hand 
 Heaped gorgeous colors in profusion wild, 
 As though a hundred rainbows there had broke 
 And left the river winding through the wreck 
 Past islands weighted with their summer's yield 
 Of maize, pawpaw, squash, grape and purpling plum 
 And wilder growth amid the water weeds. 
 Far northward where the hunters built their fires 
 The filmy lines of smoke bestreaked the sky, 
 And in the intervening range of space 
 Prairie and forest, river, vale and hill 
 Gave token of the Redman's paradise. 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 7 
 
 La Salle's companion once more viewed the scene 
 
 And traced the rivers island-studded course 
 
 From east to west until the silvery stream 
 
 Was lost in evening's shimmering gray, then said, 
 
 "It is indeed a wonder spot." La Salle 
 
 With kindling eye then spoke. "In all the leagues 
 
 Between the Gulf and Canada there is 
 
 No spot so rich in promise for fair France 
 
 As is this Rock from which we look to-day. 
 
 Here may be set the key-stone in the arch 
 
 Of our defense against the English line; 
 
 Here made the rally center of the tribes 
 
 To fight the savage Iroquois. And here 
 
 On this high Rock our guns can well protect 
 
 The valley fields; our fort with ease defy 
 
 Whatever foes appear; and from this base 
 
 Boats can deploy to gather stores of wealth 
 
 And make secure our future enterprise, 
 
 Because we tap an El Dorado's source. 
 
 We then shall sail by Crevecour and Prudehomme 
 
 And out upon the southern Gulf toward France 
 
 With cargoes of such pelts that merchants there 
 
 Shall look amazed to see our rich supplies. 
 
 The biting winds of ice-bound Montreal, 
 
 Three Rivers and Quebec we can avoid, 
 
 And from the frozen regions of the north 
 
 Sail happily abroad by open stream. 
 
 Recall our lengthy voyage to this place! 
 
 From Green Bay up the Fox we passed, then crossed 
 
 The portage to Wisconsin's winding course 
 
8 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 And followed till it merged with *Colbert's flood; 
 
 Then on those waters to this river's flow 
 
 And on its quiet bosom paddled here. 
 
 We've noted every mark betokening growth 
 
 Of Empire for the future years and here 
 
 Have come convinced the course of kingdom lies 
 
 Along this stream. From Anticosti's isle 
 
 To where at Colbert's distant mouth 
 
 We nailed the arms of France, I say again 
 
 No place has more of promise than this Rock. 
 
 Here then we'll stem the wrath of savages, 
 
 Here bid defiance to the English hordes, 
 
 Here win a greater wealth than that is heaped 
 
 In old Rochelle>, and lead the native tribes 
 
 To Church and King. On lofty hinder plains 
 
 Shall rise a guardian city like Quebec, 
 
 The while our fort commands the water way." 
 
 Approvingly Sieur D'Autray heard his friend, 
 
 And while the sunset shadows grew they talked 
 
 Until a signal from the camp below 
 
 Gave warning that the evening meal was spread. 
 
 Arriving at the river's sandy marge 
 
 They fed on mallards taken in the swamps 
 
 And ate their corn-bread warm from friendly fire. 
 
 While seated thus beneath the trees they saw 
 A graceful craft swing round the point below, 
 And deftly plied by skillful hands, approach 
 Their feasting place. The little vessel skirred 
 
 •The name formerly given to the Mississippi river. 
 
THE PADDLE STAYED THE LITTLE BARQUE AT POISE 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 9 
 
 The river like a feather blown in air; 
 
 An Indian squaw sat stolid in the stern 
 
 And standing just before a lissome girl 
 
 With practiced hand her paddle dipped and pressed 
 
 Against the water's yielding breast. She seemed 
 
 A wood-nymph happily at play; her skin 
 
 Nut brown, her gaudy blanket folded round 
 
 A form as pliant as the willow's branch; 
 
 Less harsh her features seemed than faces known 
 
 Throughout these western wilds, as if some strain 
 
 Of alien blood was coursing through her veins. 
 
 She drove her boat against the sluggish flow 
 
 Well out the stream until abreast the group, 
 
 Then quickly veered her craft and swiftly shot 
 
 Straight shoreward like an arrow from taut string. 
 
 The feasting circle marked the deft approach 
 And sensed by it some errand of respect. 
 La Salle arose, and with him moved his guide 
 To station closer to the river's edge. 
 Like bird alighted on a swaying bough, 
 The paddle stayed the little barque at poise, 
 The while the elder Indian woman spoke: 
 "Chief Mogree sends the Sieur this further word 
 To give you welcome to our valley's range, 
 And bid you wait the coming of our braves 
 That they more fitting tokens may bestow, 
 But these accept as pledge of our good will." 
 With this she threw a blanket back and there 
 Disclosed three baskets filled with plums, pawpaws, 
 
10 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Persimmons, nuts, dried berries, corn, — such store 
 As natives gather for their winter use. 
 
 With courtly grace the Sieur La Salle replied, 
 
 "We count it honor to receive these gifts 
 
 From those we know as friends in toil and arms. 
 
 Our King in distant France whose sway we owe 
 
 Throughout these wide and ample forest lands 
 
 Has bade us live at peace with all the tribes 
 
 And add the lengthening links to friendship's chain 
 
 Until it runs through every hut and lodge 
 
 And binds together in one common bond. 
 
 Right gladly will we tarry then until 
 
 Your braves return and council can be held 
 
 For we have matters to propose assured 
 
 To bring advantage to your noble tribe; 
 
 This word with our esteem bear to your chief." 
 
 While these bland courtesies were interchanged 
 The Indian maiden's glances swept the scene, 
 The speaker's face, the feasters on the shore, 
 The camp's disorder, and the smoking coals, 
 Then resting on the leader's hunter-guide 
 She saw his figure straight as mountain ash 
 With grace and strength in every line. His face 
 Immobile as a mask and dark of hue, 
 His hafr in color like the wing of crow, 
 His eye as keen as is the sparrow hawk's 
 To read the secrets of the thicket's maze. 
 Small need in this survey Neonee took 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 11 
 
 To sense the guide was of a forest race 
 
 And of a tribe remote, but still her gaze 
 
 Was centered on his face as though th# fates 
 
 Had set for her their lodestone on his brow 
 
 And there proclaimed the cord has found its bow. 
 
 And he in turn had riveted his look 
 
 On her as though some long-expected form 
 
 Had issued from the land of dreams and stood 
 
 Before him in the sunset glow and mist. 
 
 The faintest movement only of the hand 
 
 He made unseen by all save her, and then 
 
 He moved away, the forest for his screen. 
 
 Tomorrow would the hunters end their hunt, 
 
 The squaw had made reply. Then promising 
 
 To take La Salle's good word and pledge to them, 
 
 The graceful vessel thrust with skill from shore 
 
 And drifted downward by the water's edge. 
 
 Some little distance on her way the maid 
 
 Beheld again amid the fringing boughs, 
 
 The face of Sieur La Salle's young guide, — a glimpse 
 
 So brief it might have been a flash of light 
 
 Upon the leaves. And with the sight she heard 
 
 A heavy note, — the great owl's evening call, 
 
 And in response, as though the spell of dusk 
 
 Were on her soul, she sent across the wave 
 
 The plaintive sobbing cry of whippoorwill; 
 
 Then bending on her paddle drove her craft 
 
 With happy freedom down the gilded stream. 
 
12 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Thus budding love despite observing eyes 
 Its first expression finds and grows elate. 
 
 The youthful hunter to the group returns 
 
 And later asks to take a light canoe 
 
 And seek for deer along the river shore; 
 
 The favor granted he at once departs, 
 
 Drops slowly down the stream and soon is lost 
 
 In deepening shadows, and although his quest 
 
 Is long delayed and sleep has claimed the camp 
 
 When he returns he brings no venison, 
 
 For on the hill above the Indian town 
 
 A great owl's solemn call was heard that eve 
 
 And in the cornfield by the lodges' shade 
 
 A mournful whippoorwill's reply was given, 
 
 And through the bottomlands the sounds advanced 
 
 Until the watchful moon told listening night 
 
 That lovers of a forest race had met. 
 
 3. THE CANYONS 
 
 With morning's crimson in the eastern sky 
 The camp awoke. In stealth the red fox hid; 
 From watery beds the wild ducks rose and called, 
 Then circled swiftly to their feeding grounds; 
 From hickory bough the squirrel stripped the nut, 
 While circling on the deadened trunks for food, 
 The nut hatch sounded sharp his nasal notes; 
 The anxious jays with shrill protest proclaimed 
 The presence of the strangers in the wood; 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 13 
 
 Like incense rose the smoke in peaceful cloud 
 To fill the forest aisles, and once again 
 The camp bestirred itself to active life. 
 
 Soon from the bank the birch canoes were pushed, 
 
 And paddled slowly by the wooded shore, 
 
 And often stayed while Sieur La Salle, his guide, 
 
 And D'Autray ranged the bluffs and openings, 
 
 Examined closely timber, fauna, shale, 
 
 And beetling walls of curious carven cliff, 
 
 And found strange fashioned wonders on their way, — 
 
 Here rocky piles like hives of bees were formed, 
 
 And there again like ancient pulpits reared. 
 
 A yet more wild confusion in the glens 
 
 Which opened to their wondering gaze they found 
 
 Where woodbine, ivy, bracken, bush and tree 
 
 Struggled for life among the protrate rocks 
 
 Released from dizzy height by frost and flood. 
 
 To some of these he called his men to come 
 
 And view the handiwork of ages gone, 
 
 And as they entered awe gave place to jest, 
 
 Then crude remarks about the Devil's art, 
 
 And horde of imps who here had made their home, 
 
 Consorting with the witches and the gnomes. 
 
 And so with superstitious names and terms 
 
 They titled cavern, cliff, and waterfall 
 
 With nomenclature of their boorish wit. 
 
 One spot of wildness claimed their interest 
 
 A half league from the Rock. Here blackened logs 
 
14 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Were littered on a little wooded plain 
 
 Which lay before the opening in the bluffs, 
 
 And half-burned limbs and tree trunks strewed the 
 
 ground — 
 Mute symbols of past cruel tragedies. 
 "This," said their guide, "is where the Iroquois 
 Bring in their prisoners to test by fire 
 And knife. It is a favorite sport of theirs, 
 And what these hellish butchers do is told 
 To quiet children from the Huron camp 
 To Natchez by the Mississabe's shore." 
 
 The voyageurs appraised the scene with gaze 
 
 Which quickly reckoned with the features shown, — 
 
 A forest plain along the river shore 
 
 A tiny brook, a lichened cliff beyond, 
 
 Which towered above the lonely gruesome spot. 
 
 They followed for a bow shot's space the stream, 
 
 Then where it forked one tributary traced 
 
 Through tangled underbrush, o'er fallen trees, 
 
 Neath swaying vines and shelves of pendent fern, 
 
 And in the shade of poplar, pine, and elm 
 
 Until the pathway stopped against a wall 
 
 Beside a pool of crystal amethyst. 
 
 A mighty rock wrenched from the height above 
 
 Amidst a perfect maze of crimson vines, 
 
 Below the fissured cascade's flashing lights, 
 
 Stood lonely sentinel to guard the gem. 
 
 Here ropelike woodbine climbed the hoary cliffs 
 
 And clutched the screening treetops high o'erhead. 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 15 
 
 The men turned back and sought the second glen; 
 
 This branch they found led o'er a channel hewn 
 
 Through stone by wasting floods of ages gone, 
 
 And following it they came at length to see 
 
 Wide curving shelves of cliff o'er which there fell 
 
 With rhythmic sound a silvery cataract. 
 
 Thus formed, these canyons like a horse-shoe vast, 
 
 Reached in among the cliffs and left the heels 
 
 Deep bedded in the rock, whereas the toe 
 
 Lay resting 'gainst a level stretch of ground 
 
 Beside the brook. It was an eerie spot 
 
 From whence the western wall of bluff drew back 
 
 As though to flee the scenes enacted there; 
 
 And could these men have glimpsed how hidden Fate 
 
 Should, ere a year have passed, bring them again 
 
 To look upon this tragic plain in dress 
 
 Of fire and fury, their brave hearts had quailed. 
 
 But future scenes in mercy are withheld. 
 
 All through the morning hours the voyageurs 
 Pressed on by stream and shore from glen to glen, 
 And came at length upon a sandy cave 
 Carved out by water's action from the hill 
 And rounded like a huge inverted bowl 
 One side of which seemed shorn away, then filled 
 In part by crumbling rock and flood's debris. 
 Around this mound the gilded maples spread 
 Their leafy folds whence fell the sun's soft rays 
 Upon the little group which sat and talked 
 And listened as Ottonoway explained 
 
16 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 The gathering of the tribes from near and far, 
 The framing of their treaties and their laws, 
 And how these councils kept their braves in check. 
 He showed where sat the old men of the tribes, 
 Where sat the chiefs and where the warriors sat; 
 He told of speeches made and belts exchanged, 
 And how they smoked the calumet; and then 
 He pointed to the totems rudely sketched 
 Upon the walls in pledge of fealty. 
 
 With sign and simple speech he told his tale 
 And so beguiled the fleeting hour of morn. 
 
 4. THE BUFFALO HUNT 
 
 As shifts the sun unwearied on his course, 
 
 So Sieur La Salle, unresting, led his men 
 
 Along the river trail to other scenes. 
 
 Once more they drove their birchen craft upstream, 
 
 Nor stopped again until they came abreast 
 
 A naked cliff upon the northern shore. 
 
 Here suddenly they heard sharp yells and cries 
 
 Resounding on the high plateau o'erhead. 
 
 They saw no form 1 , but still the volume grew, 
 
 And with it came a sound like thunder deep 
 
 Which rolled across the plain with surging swell 
 
 And shoutings mingling on the morning air. 
 
 Each man within his craft looked to his gun 
 
 In readiness against surprise from foe, 
 
 But while they primed their flintlocks for the fray 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 17 
 
 And wondered at the savage shouts and cries, 
 This strange confusion quickly died away. 
 
 With every sense alert the voyageurs 
 
 Pulled in their craft to shore with dexterous hands, 
 
 And crept along the narrow marge to learn 
 
 The cause of this wild bedlam on the heights. 
 
 The shouts, they knew on second thought, were not 
 
 The challenge of the Redman to his foe, 
 
 But what they might presage they vaguely sensed, 
 
 So cautiously they found a landing place 
 
 And stole like autumn shadows through the trees. 
 
 They did not know the spot nor that at dawn 
 
 The Indian hunters from La Vantum's huts 
 
 Had placed their men along the trails far north 
 
 And there began the drive of buffalo 
 
 Toward the wide plateau and fatal rock. 
 
 As silent as the glowing dawn itself 
 
 The drive began and silent still advanced, 
 
 As grew the herd and moved toward the south 
 
 Along familiar paths and grazing lands. 
 
 With need to turn the course a hunter rose 
 
 And steered the tide of grazing life at will, 
 
 Cut out the mangy bulls which followed close, 
 
 And with no sound nor haste pressed on the rear 
 
 And urged the slow advance of heavy brutes. 
 
 Down from the higher prairie grazing lands, 
 
 By way of rock-girt paths to lower ground, 
 
 Through boggy trails and sloughlike stretches passed 
 
18 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 The lazy beasts and browsed on luscious grass 
 
 And took the pathways to the fatal plain. 
 
 And still no noise nor haste on hunters' part, 
 
 And yet the herd kept on in slow advance, 
 
 And if a bull at times impatient grew 
 
 And sought to lead away his followers, 
 
 His course was not opposed, so great the throng, 
 
 The tide was subtly stemmed and turned again 
 
 To mingle with the onward moving host. 
 
 Thus did the herd graze slowly up the slope 
 
 And spread itself upon the rock-bound plain, 
 
 Hemmed in by bluffs that dropped sheer fifty feet 
 
 On every side and narrowed to the east. 
 
 And here they ranged at will and lazily fed 
 
 And moved toward the fatal precipice. 
 
 Then on the instant one shrill call rang sharp 
 
 Across the plain, and every hunter rose 
 
 And rushed with curdling shout upon the herd. 
 
 The heavy hoofs beat hard upon the ground, 
 
 Dust rose in thickening clouds above the drove, 
 
 Fire flamed from grassy bundles caught on spears, 
 
 And hurtling arrows from the bended bows 
 
 Drove panic on the leaders of the herd. 
 
 One open space alone was left by which 
 
 Escape seemed possible, and off this way 
 
 The big bulls dashed to find too late they stood 
 
 Upon the fatal sharp cut brink of rock 
 
 Which fell away sheer and precipitous. 
 
 They sought to turn, but others coming on 
 
 With sting of arrows in their flanks pressed hard 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 19 
 
 Against these first and forced them out and down, 
 Until the whole was one mad surge of death, 
 And mangled bodies, broken limbed, lay heaped 
 Upon the charnel slope beneath the bluff. 
 
 As leaped the hindmost to their death 
 
 One savage shout of triumph rent the air, 
 
 And through the woods below there streamed a host 
 
 Of Indians ready with the axe and spear 
 
 To smite and drive the finishing weapon home. 
 
 And with them came the squaws and shouting boys 
 
 Ready to drag apart the heavy brutes, 
 
 And bleed and flay and carve the choicest parts, 
 
 And make supply against the winter's need. 
 
 Soon all the slope became a shamble vast 
 
 Which reeked with smell of blood and gasses freed; 
 
 Haunches were cut to be conveyed on poles 
 
 And drawn by ponies to La Vantum's huts, 
 
 Or carried to the nearby river's edge 
 
 And so borne home by raft or elm canoe. 
 
 In pots and kettles slung above the fires 
 
 The roasts gave meaty odors to the air. 
 
 The hunters from the bluff had found their way 
 
 And lounged disorderly in groups near by, 
 
 Or spread the black meat on the branch to broil, 
 
 And thus relieve their long-continued fast. 
 
 So occupied were they and so relaxed 
 
 They lost their native caution for the hour, 
 
 When suddenly a warning cry was raised, 
 
 And quick as spring of cat each Indian's hand 
 
20 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Was at his weapon, for upon the slope 
 
 Small space away stood half a score of men 
 
 Armed for encounter, and with coolness stamped 
 
 To show them proved in dangers of the wood. 
 
 Each on the other looked, in readiness 
 
 To raise the war whoop, when La Salle advanced 
 
 Extending in his hand the calumet. 
 
 *"Onontio his greeting sends," he said, 
 
 "To you his children of the north and west, 
 
 And bids me as his envoy say to you 
 
 He has a message ye may hear at time 
 
 And place convenient for the scattered tribes." 
 
 As thus he spoke a chief, Chassagoac, 
 
 Advanced with friendly mien and promptly said, 
 
 "I know you by the grace of favors done, 
 
 And for the kindly aid bestowed on us 
 
 When last you came this way, we welcome you; 
 
 Nor would we now presume to fix a date 
 
 And name a place for council lest our choice 
 
 Might work an inconvenience in your plans. 
 
 Do you but name the day and choose the spot, 
 
 Our scattered tribes will rally at the word." 
 
 Thus importuned La Salle decision gave, 
 
 "This morn we chanced upon your Council Cave 
 
 A league off on the other shore. What place 
 
 More fit if there six days removed we meet. 
 
 This will suffice to summon your allies 
 
 And bring our friends from Crevecour and the Lake." 
 
 *The Indian name for the Governor of Canada. 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 21 
 
 The bronze-hued redmen grunted their assent, 
 
 And later shared their kettles' savory stew, 
 
 Then all straightway sent out their messengers 
 
 By woodland paths and river's trackless trails. 
 
 The squaws meanwhile prepared their winter stores, 
 
 The braves lounged lazily in sunny nooks, 
 
 And with declining day La Salle retired 
 
 And sought his bivouac near the castled Rock. 
 
 And late that night above the Indian town 
 
 Was heard again the great owl's solemn chant, 
 
 And from the cornfield in the bottom land 
 
 The mournful whippoorwill's repeated cry. 
 
 And at this witching hour had sentry looked 
 
 Among the sleepers round the dying fire, 
 
 Below the pine-plumed Rock he would have seen 
 
 Ottonoway was absent from his place. 
 
 And had the withered squaw but flashed a brand 
 
 Within the tepee half a league away 
 
 She had discovered her young charge had flown, 
 
 And yet she found her sleeping there at dawn. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 1. THE INDIAN 
 
 The glory of a vanquished race departs 
 As fades the sunlight of a summer day 
 Which lingers long on purple mountain peak 
 Before it dies in slowly deepening night 
 And dying leaves its beauty on the heights. 
 
 For those who once on hill and plain deployed, 
 And trod the lonely paths of wilderness, 
 And ranged in hunting parties through the wilds, 
 Or fished along the silver-glinting streams, 
 Or waged their warfare with ancestral foes, 
 The strange memorials of their passing show 
 In valley mounds and tracings on the cliffs, 
 And flints and flaying-stones upturned afield, 
 And quaint traditions of a mystic past. 
 
 Through all the complex maze of circumstance 
 And harsh environment of cruel age 
 How still in living characters remain 
 The noble outlines of the primal race: — 
 A heart responsive to a kindness shown 
 And linked with unforgetfulness till death; 
 A nature loyal to its tribe and clan 
 Through every hardship torture might devise; 
 
24 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 A spirit voicing in religious rite 
 
 A simple faith in dim-sensed Deity. 
 
 A race of poets they, who not in verse 
 
 The subtle meanings of expression told, 
 
 But in the names they gave to waterfalls 
 
 And mountains, valleys, rivers, rocks, and woods. 
 
 We search the scanty records of the past 
 
 And find their natures similar to ours; 
 
 By evil passion swayed, their souls' fine harp 
 
 Clangs out of tune with base and vicious din, 
 
 But touched by kindness gives response with strain 
 
 Of richest tone and sweetest melody, 
 
 Since kindred disposition actuates 
 
 And meets in kind the conduct of our race. 
 
 2. THE ASSEMBLY 
 
 The morning of the sixth day from the hunt 
 Had scarcely dawned along the Illinois 
 When virile life bestirred upon its banks 
 From where the *Pesticoui its silvery flood 
 Poured in to swell the larger flow all down 
 To tArimoni's willow-fringed mouth. 
 Along the misty shores encampments woke 
 And smoke began to curl from countless fires; 
 Kaskaskia roused, excited by the stir 
 Of life unusual in her daily round, 
 And fed with haste the gruff impatient bands 
 
 •The Fox River. tThe Vermilion. 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 25 
 
 Who hurried quickly toward the river front 
 Intent to join the convoy for the Cave. 
 
 The Sieur La Salle meanwhile had tasked his men 
 
 In preparation for the great event; 
 
 In person to the village he had gone 
 
 And begged the largest kettles for the day, 
 
 And purchased stores of meal, and these his men 
 
 Had brought and at his bidding set in place 
 
 Nearby the cave where now a highway runs. 
 
 Ottonoway, his skillful hunter guide, 
 
 Had ranged the forests and the teeming swamps, 
 
 And with his aids brought in a score of deer, 
 
 Two elk, a bison and a cumbrous heap 
 
 Of turkey, mallard, bustards and wild fowl 
 
 With which to satiate the gathered tribes. 
 
 Laurens Chapelle, a famous woodland chef, 
 
 Who with La Salle had sailed the Colbert's length, 
 
 Was here the master of the barbecue 
 
 And steaming kettles with their grateful stew. 
 
 Before the sun was risen two hours high 
 The river teemed with craft of varied sort 
 Which centered on the shore near Council Cave. 
 On Pestecoui's clear current came the chiefs 
 From Maramac and villages beyond; 
 Au Sable's shadowy waters rolling out 
 From loamy prairie land bore on their crest 
 The stalwart warriors from the river's source; 
 From forests on the Kankakee, canoes 
 
26 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Of elm conveyed the old men and the chiefs 
 With others from St. Joseph's osiered banks. 
 A long convoy of boats from fair Des Plaines 
 Brought down the tribesmen from her shores, 
 And from their lodges on Lake Michigan. 
 So also from the regions south and west 
 They came down Arimoni's tortuous course, 
 And up the windings of the Illinois; 
 From lodges far toward the setting sun, — 
 Peoria's tree-fringed lake and quiet shore 
 And even by the Mississippi's strand; 
 Braves, too, from camps along the limpid Rock 
 Came with their chiefs and lordly sagamores 
 And merged with others at Kaskaskia's door. 
 
 Nor on the river's watery lanes alone 
 
 The tribes came rallying to their Council Cave. 
 
 On every trail of prairie and of wood 
 
 The files of warriors and their chiefs were seen. 
 
 They followed paths along the water's edge 
 
 Or took the higher trails upon the bluffs, 
 
 Or came the weary ways across the plains 
 
 From distant village and from lonely lodge. 
 
 And so by watercourse and path they came, 
 
 Piankishaws, Fox, Weas, Kickapoos, 
 
 Miamis, Ottawas, Peorias, 
 
 Mascoutins and the bands of Illinois, 
 
 With visitors from other ranging tribes* 
 
 Along the river bank before the Cave 
 
 And in the little glen hard by they wait 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 27 
 
 The coming of La Salle. Some broke their fast 
 With bowls of meal; some on their blankets lounged, 
 Some stood in groups apart beneath the trees, 
 All watching close the chef directions give 
 In preparation for the noon-tide feast. 
 
 At length the watchers by the river's edge 
 
 Sent up a shout by which the Indians knew 
 
 The leader of the French was drawing near; 
 
 And soon they saw arriving on the path 
 
 Which led across the fragrant bottom land, 
 
 The troop attendant on the Sieur La Salle. 
 
 The men from Fort Miami led the van. 
 
 Fur-capped and clad in well tanned hide of deer, 
 
 They bore their rifles with the easy grace 
 
 Of men familiar with the woodland trails. 
 
 Behind them marched the band from Crevecour's post 
 
 With Tonti, Sieur La Salle's most trusted friend, 
 
 In lead, equipped with breastplate, helm and sword, 
 
 His iron hand inactive at his side. 
 
 Next came two priests in black whose long robes fell 
 
 With ample folds from shoulder to the ground, 
 
 And each adorned by strings of jangling beads 
 
 To which a shining crucifix was linked. 
 
 These two were followed by four soldiers garbed 
 
 Like those detailed for duty at Quebec, 
 
 And bearing packs of gifts to be bestowed. 
 
 Short space behind another soldier came 
 
 With hide of deer white as the mountain snow, 
 
28 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 In which the precious wampam belts were wrapped 
 Against their showing in the council's speech. 
 Next in the moving line, Ottonoway 
 Proceeded with the feathered calumet, 
 Himself bedecked with headdress of a chief. 
 
 Then came La Salle arrayed in dress of court 
 
 Such as the nobles wore in far Versailles 
 
 And which in copper trunk he'd brought with him 
 
 For service on occasion such as this. 
 
 His doublet, hose and silver-buckled shoes 
 
 Set off the contour of his limbs with grace, 
 
 His ruffled front and snowy wristbands showed 
 
 Beneath a silken tunic of the hue 
 
 Of woodbine crimsoned by the early frosts; 
 
 A cloak of purple graced his well-knit form, 
 
 A low crowned hat with egret's snow-white plume 
 
 Bedecked his head and gave him princely poise. 
 
 Behind, Sieur D'Autray led the remnant's file 
 
 Of hardy woodsmen and of vouageurs, 
 
 And thus they marched across the bottom land. 
 
 The line swung by the place of barbecue 
 
 And passing round a buttress of the cliff, 
 
 Ascended to the earthen tree-grown mound 
 
 Which blocked the entrance of the cavern's mouth. 
 
 Here bison robes were spread upon the earth 
 
 Where Sieur La Salle, his aides, the black robed priests, 
 
 The lordly chiefs and sagamores found seats, 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 29 
 
 And round them, circling on the sandy floor, 
 
 There filed and sat the rows of bronze-hued braves. 
 
 3. THE COUNCIL 
 
 Soon as this strange assembly in the cave 
 
 In semi-rings was seated round the mound 
 
 On which reclined the chiefs and Sieur La Salle, 
 
 Chassagoac, the spokesman of his tribe, 
 
 Arose, and with becoming dignity 
 
 Addressed the Frenchmen with these welcoming words : 
 
 "To-day we thank you for your visit here, 
 
 The sun has never shone upon these hills 
 
 So bright nor with a light so rich and warm; 
 
 And never have our cornfields showed such yield 
 
 Nor prairies such vast herds of buffalo. 
 
 The autumn lengthens into golden days 
 
 And winter keeps his distance from our town 
 
 While you are here within our valley range, 
 
 Our river never flowed more free from rocks 
 
 And danger to our craft than since you came. 
 
 We hail you, brothers, as deliverers 
 
 From winter's cold and gnawing hunger's pangs 
 
 And our arch enemies, the Iroquois." 
 
 By pre-arrangement Tonti rose and spoke 
 
 An answer to the chief, designed to call 
 
 In turn expression from the gathered tribes. 
 
 He said, Though bright the sunlight fell afield 
 
 And with its grateful rays warmed mother earth, 
 
30 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Still brighter was the light of friendship's glow 
 
 And warmer was the fire in trusting hearts. 
 
 A river never flowed so free from rocks 
 
 As that vast stream of human intercourse 
 
 When prejudice and hatred were removed 
 
 And races wrought in trustful friendliness. 
 
 The fields and forests gave their richest yield 
 
 When peace and confidence in mutual cause 
 
 Were linked together for the weal of all, 
 
 And sure protection from a common foe; 
 
 This was the object of their visit here, 
 
 This, too, the wish of king and governor, 
 
 And this the message couched in friendly terms 
 
 The noble Sieur La Salle was charged to give. 
 
 But lest it fall like seed too early sown 
 
 And which becomes the prey of blighting frosts, 
 
 He had no welcome tidings for the tribes, 
 
 Until he knew the mind of these here met. 
 
 When springtime sun has warmed the mellow earth, 
 
 And oak-buds swell to size of squirrel's ears, 
 
 The squaws then know 'tis time to plant the maize, 
 
 So Sieur La Salle the signs of friendliness 
 
 Would learn to-day and if the time were ripe 
 
 Cast in his seed. If not, then might he pass 
 
 To other tribesmen further west and leave 
 
 His benison of peace, good-will with them. 
 
 He would but learn the truth and their desires, 
 
 If friendship and protection from the French 
 
 They should prefer to dread of Iroquois, 
 
 Then should they speak and tell their true resolves. 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 31 
 
 He sat, and through the ranks of chiefs and braves 
 
 Slight stir was made, then from among the group 
 
 Where sat the old men of the tribes, one rose 
 
 Who in his days of strength had been the peer 
 
 Of all the spokesmen in these western wilds, 
 
 And who could yet with skill of ready speech 
 
 Direct the currents of the native mind 
 
 And turn them into channels as he willed. 
 
 He stood erect before the sitting throng, 
 
 And spoke with force and fire of former days. 
 
 "Hear, tribesmen of the plains and woods," said he, 
 
 u And see if I declare not words of truth. 
 
 Long have I ranged these regions from the Lakes 
 
 To that great river by the setting sun; 
 
 Here have I slain the bison and the deer, 
 
 Here driven foes from this our hunting range, 
 
 And here with you stood leagued to guard our homes 
 
 And never yielded ground nor knew a fear, 
 
 Save when those human wolves, the Iroquois, 
 
 Came down with weapons drenched in kinsmen's blood. 
 
 And who of us can tell when once again 
 
 Their curdling yells will split the midnight air, 
 
 And kindling flames will lay our village low, 
 
 And tomahawk and knife slay child and squaw. 
 
 There is no wall to stay this tide of death 
 
 Unless it be the ranks of trusted French, 
 
 For they have ever been our helpful friends 
 
 From Anticosti to the Piasa, 
 
 And we have been to them, and will be still 
 
 As is the cord to hunter's hickory bow, 
 
32 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Or bank to stream or bark to trunk of tree, 
 Hear, brothers, our true pledge of fealty." 
 
 In turn the chiefs and spokesmen of the tribes 
 
 Arose and gave expression in accord. 
 
 A chieftain from the Winnebagoes said 
 
 So long as sun should shine and waters flow 
 
 And rosy color tint the eglantine, 
 
 His tribe would hold the French in loved esteem; 
 
 For had they not in place of flint and bow 
 
 Bestowed the axe and knife, and given the gun 
 
 By which they shot their grouse and venison. 
 
 Then too, had not the French shown friendship such 
 
 As others coming to these shores had not, 
 
 For they displayed a finer courtesy 
 
 And mated with the women of the tribes; 
 
 And as the left hand to the right was joined 
 
 In common purpose for the body's good, 
 
 So were the Winnebagoes with the French . 
 
 In terms like these their orators declared 
 
 Their loyalty and love toward the French. 
 
 A chieftain of the Illinois recalled 
 
 How when two years before, the foe had come 
 
 And burned their town, profaned their burying ground, 
 
 And driven their brave warriors to the west, 
 
 The French had reached their strong, protecting arm 
 
 Across the lakes from distant Canada 
 
 And given comfort in the hour of woe: — 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 33 
 
 The Sieur La Salle himself, the ministrant. 
 "Such kindness," said the chief, "is not forgot." 
 
 Another said, U A priest once came to us 
 
 Who told us of the Virgin and her Son, 
 
 The Cross, the Father's home, the burning Hell; 
 
 Then up the river passed in shining light 
 
 And so we saw his glowing face no more. 
 
 But with us still remains the memory 
 
 Of gracious words and yet more gracious deeds 
 
 And longings for a like kind ministry. 
 
 Will not the French grant such request to us?" 
 
 On this the black-robed Hennepin arose, 
 
 And stretching forth his hands, he said, 
 
 "Ye children of the forests, listen, all. 
 
 I tell you of the mighty Manitou 
 
 Who has great plans and purposes designed 
 
 In which the nations as the bucket's drops 
 
 Are counted and as dust upon the scales. 
 
 He sits upon the circle of the earth 
 
 And we before Him as grasshoppers stir; 
 
 He stretches out the heavens as a sheet 
 
 And spreads them as a tent in which to dwell. 
 
 In these great purposes devised for you, 
 
 Know well His Word will have its rightful place, 
 
 With holy priests for its interpreters 
 
 And empty you will not be sent away; 
 
 Somewhere within these purposes have we 
 
 A part to play in bringing you this Truth. 
 
34 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 If ye be willing ye shall eat rich fruit, 
 If ye rebel, the alien shall devour." 
 
 So spake the priest, and after him a chief, 
 
 Renowned for power and wisdom, slowly rose; 
 
 He stood before the throng in regal dress, 
 
 A crest of eagle feathers o'er his brow 
 
 Which fell away from strands of jet black hair, 
 
 Like flowing mane upon a stallion's neck. 
 
 He held a fox skin underneath his arm 
 
 Firm bound by thongs with otter tails attached; 
 
 These he untied and so unrolled the skin, 
 
 Disclosing six rich wampum belts within 
 
 Which he arranged in order for his speech. 
 
 He spoke with quiet dignity and told 
 
 How once prevailed upon by Joliet, 
 
 He, with four others from his tribal bounds, 
 
 Had crossed the portage to the heaving Lakes 
 
 And passed by many waters to a stream 
 
 Where crashed and boomed a mighty cataract 
 
 As though the Illinois in full flood tide 
 
 Fell thundering from bluffs of triple height. 
 
 This river with its boiling whirlpools passed, 
 
 He entered next a lake and from it sailed 
 
 A watery highway mongst a thousand isles, 
 
 And down a white-capped, maddened course of waves, 
 
 And so to Montreal and far Quebec. 
 
 There he had seen vast houses on the cliffs, 
 Onontio's home, and where the Black Robes dwelt, 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 35 
 
 There had he seen a mighty fort of stone, 
 
 And from its sides great iron guns belched flame 
 
 With voices louder than the thunder's roll, 
 
 And soldiers kept the walls or marched the streets 
 
 To rattling drums, and everywhere was power. 
 
 Below the cliffs the monstrous ships came in 
 
 With bales and boxes full of magic things, 
 
 And these, the white men said, came from a land 
 
 Across a sea yet wider and more wild 
 
 Than were the Lakes traversed by Joliet, 
 
 And in that land the houses were so great 
 
 That these upon the cliffs were but as toys. 
 
 The white men's chief, Onontio, gave gifts 
 
 To carry to the people of the west. 
 
 "Here," said the chief, "in token of his grace, 
 
 I give these belts in pledge of fealty. 
 
 This one in memory of the kindness shown, 
 
 To bind us to your royal governor; 
 
 This second to the power he represents, 
 
 This third to you, his envoy, sent to us, 
 
 This fourth shall represent our tribes' good-will, 
 
 This fifth the favor of the other tribes, 
 
 This last to crown the loyalty of all." 
 
 These wampum belts arranged to suit his words 
 He spread in order on the mound, 
 Then gave them one by one to Sieur La Salle 
 Who rose in prompt acknowledgment and said, 
 "Such pledges given well demand of me 
 More gracious answer than can now be made; 
 
36 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 The sun has long since passed the mark of noon, 
 The meats and kettles of Laurens Chappelle 
 Are waiting for our eager hands below, 
 And having feasted for an hour we then 
 Will here return and I shall bear to you 
 The message charged me by Onontio." 
 
 With this he waved his hand and led the way, 
 
 The chiefs and sachems coming close behind, 
 
 And after them the thronging crowd of braves. 
 
 They passed around the shoulder of the rock, 
 
 And swarming down the slope soon reached the place 
 
 Where steamed the kettles and the roasted meats. 
 
 Here, sitting on the ground, their bowls were filled 
 
 And viands served on fresh plucked linden leaves. 
 
 So fed they all like gormands till the fowl 
 
 The venison, the carcasses of elk, 
 
 And roasts of buffalo had been devoured, 
 
 Then at the running brook they quenched their thirst, 
 
 And strolled again toward the Council Cave. 
 
 4. THE ENEMY 
 
 Once more in circled ranks upon the sand 
 Within the hidden cavern's yawning mouth, 
 The warriors sat around the tree-grown mound 
 In readiness to hear La Salle's reply. 
 He rose before the assembled throng, and stood 
 In splendor of his courtly crimson dress 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 37 
 
 With background curtain of the autumn wood, 
 While thus in terms of simple speech he spoke: 
 
 "My brothers, I have heard your friendly words 
 
 And in the wampum belts your chief bestowed 
 
 Have read the tokens of your loyalty, 
 
 So feel the time is ripe to set the seal 
 
 Upon some compact of our mutual faith 
 
 To bind the French with you in closer bonds. 
 
 Onontio has charged me to express 
 
 His good will to his children of the West, 
 
 His deep concern for their best interest. 
 
 From his great house toward the eastern sea 
 
 He sends you tokens of regard and grace, 
 
 And bids me here bestow these gifts on you." 
 
 With this he signed the men who bore the packs 
 
 Along the pathway from the river's marge; 
 
 And at the sign their contents were disclosed, — 
 
 Knives, hatchets, beads, and bolts of brilliant cloth, 
 
 With heavier wares, axe blades, a sheaf of guns, 
 
 And other gear to please the savage mind. 
 
 As from the knoll-like mound this goodly store 
 
 To chiefs and braves and sachems was disclosed, 
 
 A wave of pleased approval swept the throng. 
 
 Then motioned Sieur La Salle Ottonoway, 
 
 Who handed him the signs of Indian craft, — 
 
 A bow and arrows, and an axe of stone 
 
 Together with the feathered calumet, 
 
 And wampum belts within their snowwhite case; 
 
 These each the leader took and laid them down 
 
38 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Before the chiefs, and placed the calumet 
 
 Between the axe and bow, then from his gifts 
 
 He took a shining axe blade and a gun, 
 
 The metal on the stone he placed, the gun 
 
 He laid across the Indian arrow sheaf, 
 
 And from his pocket drew a crucifix 
 
 And set it on the sacred calumet. 
 
 Then lifting up the deerskin with its belts 
 
 He drew them one by one as thus he spoke: 
 
 "Know by these tokens our a mutual cause. 
 
 The French and Indians are together bound 
 
 By friendship's chain and claim of brotherhood; 
 
 Our foes deploy along the eastern coast 
 
 And westward where the Five Tribes hold the Lakes. 
 
 On you and us they wage a hurtful war, 
 
 And this demands of us confederate bond 
 
 To meet and stay their thrusts of cruelty. 
 
 Who can with you so ably fight the foe 
 
 As soldiers trained within the camps of France? 
 
 Their weapons shall with yours beat back the hordes 
 
 Which threaten from the forest and the coast, 
 
 So on these arms I place this wampum belt 
 
 As pledge of our protecting hand of power. 
 
 Or who can so unlock the doors of trade 
 And find the ready market for your furs 
 And in return bring back the needed wares 
 For camp and chase as traders of our race? 
 So on the symbols of our common weal 
 I lay this second wampum belt to pledge 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 39 
 
 An honest dealing with your western tribes. 
 
 And who can bring the knowledge of the Truth 
 
 And teach religion to your hungry hearts 
 
 As these same priests who sit with you to-day? 
 
 The heralds of the lifted cross are they, 
 
 To bring good tidings to your villages 
 
 And tell the way of life and peace to all. 
 
 Upon the sacred cross and calumet, 
 
 The holy symbols of our faith and aims, 
 
 I lay another wampum belt in pledge 
 
 Of our devoted interest in your tribes. 
 
 And on this other pile of shining gifts 
 
 I lay a belt expressing that good-will 
 
 With which Onontio regards your race 
 
 And wishes for each one prosperity. 
 
 And binding thus the councils of this day 
 
 I offer now this still more precious belt, 
 
 A girdle from our king beyond the sea, 
 
 On which is worked the sign of brotherhood, 
 
 The French with Indian standing hand in hand 
 
 And binding east with west in common cause 
 
 Beneath the lilies of our monarch's flag. 
 
 This token means that we make treaty here 
 
 To stand united in confederate bond, 
 
 And build a fort upon the castled Rock 
 
 Near to the spot where we have pitched our camp. 
 
 And from the fortress we may there erect, 
 
 Our guns can safely keep the water way 
 
 And guard your village and your valley fields 
 
 Against the savage hordes of Iroquois, 
 
40 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 And so insure the safety of your tribes. 
 The terms accepted, belt and gifts are yours 
 As pledges of the honor of New France." 
 
 Upon the faces of his auditors 
 
 Approval showed, when rose a petty chief, 
 
 Ugly with scars, arrayed in panther skins, 
 
 The leader of a wild and vicious band. 
 
 He had been found some twenty moons before 
 
 Far up the windings of the Kankakee, 
 
 Bound to a tree, by Iroquois, he claimed, 
 
 And left, blood-smeared and gashed, a prey for wolves. 
 
 A youth had led the Illinois to him, 
 
 And when they had unbound his fastenings 
 
 They gave him place among their chiefs, since he 
 
 Displayed such hatred toward their enemies. 
 
 He later from a hunting trip brought home 
 
 A squaw and brood of children, and of these 
 
 The maid, Neonee, like arbutus bud 
 
 Among decaying leaves, bloomed into flower. 
 
 Now stood this chief before the circled throng, 
 
 And through his half shut lids the listeners caught 
 
 The steely glint of cold malignant eyes 
 
 As fierce Monongonee harangued the crowd. 
 
 "I am almost a stranger here" he said, 
 
 "And yet in hate of Iroquois I yield 
 
 To none, for I have yet a greater hate. 
 
 The cause you know; I've felt their arrow stings, 
 
 The piercings of their fiery pointed sticks. 
 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 41 
 
 But not the Iroquois alone are foes; 
 
 The English, settling by the eastern seas, 
 
 Are spoiling hunting ranges far inland; 
 
 There is no room for us where they deploy. 
 
 But not the English only are our foes; 
 
 The French, with gracious words, gain ground and 
 
 claim 
 The forests north and east, and they make friends 
 With wily foes to gain their subtle ends, 
 And smoke the calumet with Iroquois. 
 And now with English masters and with French, 
 Where does the native Indian's portion lie? 
 Yet more, and hear me, for a forest bird 
 Brought me this news but yesterday. It sang 
 Deep in the wood while on the Illinois 
 Canoes brought from Miami and Crevecour 
 These companies of French. The wild bird sang: 
 'My brother, there is cunning in the camp 
 And there is craft upon the council floor, 
 The calumet has lost its sacredness, 
 They speak for peace whose hearts are primed for war/ 
 I bent my head and listened for an hour, 
 And then I heard the wild bird sing again: 
 'My brother, he who speaks the gracious word 
 And giveth goodly gifts to steal the heart 
 Is leagued with those, thine ancient enemies, 
 Ancl 'neath the gift you'll find the fatal dart'." 
 
 With this Monongonee turned on La Salle 
 And like a rattler poised with head erect, 
 
42 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 And ready for the thrust of fatal stroke 
 
 He hissed his vicious challenge to the Sieur, 
 
 "You and your French have with the Iroquois 
 
 Consorted to despoil our western tribes; 
 
 You here invite to build a he-wolf's den 
 
 On yonder Rock and from it take the prey. 
 
 This day's grand feast, these gifts, your honeyed words, 
 
 Are merely bait with which your trap is set, 
 
 But it will now be sprung by those of us 
 
 Who love our range and hate your wily ways. 
 
 I call on you who would defend your homes 
 
 To rouse and follow on the path of war." 
 
 On this with supple bound down from the mound 
 
 He leaped, and swinging wide his tomahawk 
 
 He raised the savage war cry while the crowd 
 
 Like forest smitten by a sudden blast 
 
 Bowed with the storm, and here and there a brave 
 
 Rose up and joined their leader's howling din, 
 
 But on the instant Sieur La Salle had stood 
 
 And raising high his hand commanded, "Stay 
 
 We have no other end in view than peace. 
 
 Refuse to join with us and we will pass 
 
 To other fields to bring about our ends, 
 
 And leave you to the spoiling Iroquois. 
 
 If with these ruthless foes at any time 
 
 The French have smoked the sacred calumet 
 
 It was to hold these cruel wolves in leash 
 
 And not to pledge a share in taking prey. 
 
 As for our words a trap which we delay 
 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 43 
 
 To spring? Even three times within this week 
 
 Occasion has been ours were this our aim. 
 
 Once when we came and found Kasakskia's braves 
 
 Gone on the hunt we might have burned the town, 
 
 And safely passed upon our errand's quest; 
 
 The next day when unguarded round your spoils 
 
 You lounged, we might have slain and made escape; 
 
 And now to-day while you are resting safely here 
 
 We might have blocked your exit with our guns 
 
 And led you singly or in groups to death. 
 
 Foul, vicious thought! the spawn of evil mind. 
 
 For French and western tribes have kindred aim. 
 
 Not soon shall we forget how bled our heart 
 
 When we beheld scarce thirty moons ago 
 
 Kaskaskia's homes despoiled by Iroquois, 
 
 The scaffolds of her noble dead thrown down, 
 
 Her warriors fled, her children tomahawked, 
 
 Her ravished squaws left dying in their blood. 
 
 Still beats our heart as with a brother's throb 
 
 And we shall pray your foes come not again. 
 
 And should you yet refuse to grant our boon 
 
 We shall pass on to friends on other trails 
 
 And simply say, 'Our brothers have forgot'." 
 
 Thus did the Sieur La Salle the storm allay 
 
 And break the scarred chief's threat of vicious craft, 
 
 Who seeing his mad counsels set at nought 
 
 Passed with his henchmen from the cavern's mouth 
 
 Along the shadowy trail toward the town. 
 
 Long sat the chiefs and sachems on the mound 
 
44 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 And smoked with Sieur La Salle the calumet, 
 And with him signed the treaty's terms by which 
 They gave him timbered acres on the bluffs 
 And pledged their help to build at once a fort. 
 Then in the glowing autumn afternoon 
 The concourse broke and passed by woodland trail 
 And water route to camps along the stream, 
 And to Kaskaskia where their revels held 
 Till midnight turned the tide of time toward day. 
 Meantime Monongonee sulked in his lodge, 
 And Sieur La Salle in camp beside the Rock, 
 With leaders from Miami and Crevecour, 
 Laid further plans for building soon the fort, 
 And from the dizzy bluffs toward the west 
 A great owl boomed his heavy sounding notes 
 And in the cornfield moaned the whippoorwill. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 1. THE FRONTIERSMEN 
 
 Heroic figures cast in molds of bronze 
 
 Or deftly carven from the granite rock 
 
 Bear witness to the conquering warrior's fame, 
 
 The scholar's gifts, the skill of diplomat, 
 
 The kindly favor of philanthropist, 
 
 The noble act of valor or of love. 
 
 For them who pay the sacrifice supreme 
 
 In war, the arch and monument are built, 
 
 While marble bust and tablet's honored rolls 
 
 Preserve full oft the names of lesser men 
 
 Whom chance or circumstance have raised to power. 
 
 But what of them who in the common lot 
 
 Made possible the stepping stones of fate 
 
 By which a nation's fondlings climb to fame 
 
 And after peoples live in opulence? 
 
 Obscure, unfavored, they their toils pursued, 
 
 They felled the forests with the ringing axe, 
 
 They reared their cabins in the lonely woods, 
 
 They plowed their clearings with the tedious share, 
 
 They reaped their harvests with the sickle's thrust, 
 
 They waged their season's battle with the snows 
 
 And with the wintry wind's unequal strife, 
 
 They fought the redmen in the ambushed wood, 
 
 And drove the wild beasts from the barn and fold. 
 
46 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 With axe and gun in hand for ready use 
 
 They kept the fort and held their humble homes. 
 
 For them the gates of classic lore were shut 
 
 Save as some learned priest or leader came 
 
 And sat beside their fire and passed to them 
 
 The wisdom gleaned in schools across the sea. 
 
 Their teachers were the storms which swept the hills, 
 
 The forests giving of their secret lore, 
 
 The birds and beasts that ranged the virgin wilds, 
 
 The rivers and the streams which drained their lands, 
 
 The lonely mountains with their snowy wastes, 
 
 The moon and stars, mute guardians of the night, 
 
 And Seasons shifting with the changing year. 
 
 The sum of all instruction was to learn 
 
 How sustenance and safety might be found, 
 
 How frame their shelters 'gainst the piercing winds, 
 
 And find protection from the savages, 
 
 How gain a living from the soil and woods 
 
 And harmonize their lives with nature's laws. 
 
 This schooling in the vast and open wilds 
 
 Made men resourceful, brave, and confident, 
 
 Like heroes of the classic age who fought 
 
 With dragons and with hydra-headed beasts. 
 
 It gave them prowess to withstand attack, 
 
 And, daring fate, they feared no foe, but stood, 
 
 Defiant to each danger threatening them, 
 
 And forced the conflict to the final blow. 
 
 Such heritage they left that even yet 
 
 The lands they tilled, the restless lakes they sailed, 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 47 
 
 The rugged mountains that they climbed, all claim 
 The attributes of greatness each possessed, 
 And these they linked with forest, rock, and stream, 
 And wrote their names on rivers, hills, and towns. 
 
 2. THE BUILDING OF THE FORT 
 
 November's leaden dome above the Rock 
 
 Was arched in ashen gray magnificence 
 
 When first the sound of woodman's axe was heard 
 
 Among the forests of the Illinois, 
 
 Preparing for the building of the fort. 
 
 The Rock gave up in part its plume-like pine, 
 
 Its maple and its oak and other growth, 
 
 And near the northern edge a pit was dug 
 
 To serve as cellar; while with measuring stick 
 
 La Salle, colossus-like, bestrode the logs. 
 
 A booth like structure built in sheltered nook 
 Upon the lofty promontory's crest, 
 Held in it safely implements and stores 
 Brought down from Fort Miami on the Lake. 
 Here, too, Chapelle plied happily his art 
 Among the pans and kettles, kept supplied 
 By heaps of game Ottonoway brought in 
 From river, forest, thicket, swamp and plain. 
 The crowd of Indian loungers grew around 
 This favored spot until La Salle decreed 
 That only they who worked should share the food. 
 Then part retired and at his beck and call 
 
48 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 The rest employed themselves in varied tasks; 
 
 Some found the wiry sedge grass in the swamps 
 
 And wove it with the inner strands of bark 
 
 To form the long and pliant ropes they used 
 
 To draw the timbers up the steep Rock's side. 
 
 Some also found and cut the wild grape vines 
 
 In lengths convenient for the needful use, 
 
 And others piled great stacks of fuel high 
 
 Upon the summit for the winter fires, 
 
 While some brought in wild rice, cornmeal, and nuts 
 
 And bartered such for hatchets, knives or guns. 
 
 These workers were supplied their shares of food, 
 
 And round the cheerful fire high o'er the stream 
 
 The French begat good-will and brotherhood. 
 
 Meantime the axemen round the high Rock's base 
 Cut down the destined trees, lopped off the limbs, 
 And squared the trunks to suit the plans devised. 
 Strong slabs were split from straight grained logs of 
 
 oak, 
 And with the drawing-knife and plane were smoothed 
 To serve as doors and window frames and sills. 
 The chorus of the broad-axe, saw and adze 
 Was merged with heavy throbbings of the maul, 
 And rocky ledges gave their echoes back. 
 The jays, disturbed, screamed protests shrill and sharp, 
 The brown owls looked with wonder on the scene, 
 And from their home within a hollow oak 
 A pair of ringed raccoons watched warily, 
 While reynard with his bright and cunning eyes 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 49 
 
 Peered out surprised from hazel's tangled maze 
 High up the ledge across the nearby stream, 
 Then like a shadow slipped away in stealth. 
 
 While thus the forests bowed before the axe 
 
 The cliffs gave up their secrets to the men, 
 
 Who found upon a neighboring bluff, the pine 
 
 In which a pair of eagles had their nest 
 
 Where every year they reared their callow young; 
 
 The lofty height was christened Eagle Rock. 
 
 Still further east where 'gainst a dizzy wall 
 
 A canyon ended sharp amongst the rocks, 
 
 A hunter trailed a wild cat to her den, 
 
 And had he not with skillful shot laid low 
 
 The fierce-eyed mother, crouching for her spring, 
 
 His hunt might have had issue otherwise, 
 
 But as it was, he brought her furry pelt 
 
 And tiny spitting kittens to the fort, 
 
 And left the wild cat's name to mark the gorge. 
 
 Meantime the cellar-pit was dug complete, 
 
 Its edges leveled to receive the logs 
 
 First to be laid in place, and on a day 
 
 Appointed by La Salle, an eager crowd 
 
 Of French and Indians drew with ropes and skids 
 
 Two poplar beams from where the parent trees 
 
 Were felled and squared upon the valley floor; 
 
 Each measured four score feet and reached entire 
 
 The fort's long length, a little space apart, 
 
 And passed, projecting from the high Rock's edge, 
 
50 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Full seven yards, and these they later braced 
 By lesser beams against the Rock's steep side, 
 And laid a floor and built a balustrade, 
 And drumlike windlass, whence in case of siege 
 They might draw water from the depths below. 
 Then log by log the walls were hastily reared, 
 The bracing beams pinned firmly in their place, 
 The timbers sawed for entrance ways and light, 
 The chinking closely packed between the logs 
 And port-holes bored within the upper room. 
 The sheeting on the rafters overhead 
 Received the rows of white oak shingles wide; 
 Two chimneys, one at either end, were built 
 And set with cranes firm fastened in their walls; 
 The cellar pit was covered with huge slabs 
 And on the other floor space sawed blocks set 
 With evened tops like stretch of paving brick. 
 The northern corners west and east were flanked 
 By towers where were placed two cannon brought 
 From Fort Miami with the other stores 
 And set to guard the river and the fields. 
 
 Upon a chill December day while stood 
 
 An Indian throng upon the farther shore, 
 
 Invited from La Vantum for the sight, 
 
 The cannon boomed, their white smoke rolling high, 
 
 As Sieur La Salle ran up the flag of France, 
 
 And heavy voices sang Te Deum's praise. 
 
 Soon all his stores were housed within the fort 
 
 And all prepared against the searching cold. 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 51 
 
 And in the last fair days that lingered still 
 
 About the Rock before the winter came, 
 
 The Sieur La Salle a palisade ran round 
 
 The edges where a foe might scale the height, 
 
 And built a well-defended entrance way 
 
 Which faced the south, with timbered stairs below. 
 
 So hasted by the days till Christmas Eve 
 
 Her curtain gathered round the fort-crowned Rock, 
 
 And lit the tallow candles on the tree 
 
 Which brushed the ceiling of the fort's wide room. 
 
 Here in the light and warmth which cheered the spot 
 
 The lonely blazers of the forest trails 
 
 Renewed the age-old spirit of good wSll. 
 
 Jacques D'Autray from his private chest fished out 
 
 An ancient flute and with the violin 
 
 Chapelle so often tuned as evening fell 
 
 The two beguiled the swiftly speeding hours, 
 
 And played the strains they'd learned beyond the seas 
 
 When love and budding manhood marked their youth. 
 
 Glad gala days in France arose in mind 
 
 As they from pipe and string drew melody. 
 
 And with the cheer that filled the joyous hours 
 
 Old quarrels were forgot, estrangements healed, 
 
 And ruffled feelings smoothed to peace again. 
 
 Here far from home and kindred in the woods 
 
 Their lonely spirits trod the paths of youth 
 
 And they were boys once more as in the past, 
 
 Delighting in the simple gifts exchanged 
 
 Around the shining tree: — strange gifts they were, 
 
52 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 A much prized nugget wrapped in linden leaf, 
 
 A hunting knife encased in bison hide, 
 
 A polished horn to keep the precious store 
 
 Of powder dry, a hatchet, or a trap. 
 
 Chapelle, true to his craft, had furnished sweets 
 
 Encroaching on his maple sugar stock, 
 
 And with dried myrrh or pinch of wintergreen 
 
 Or peppermint had flavored well his stores. 
 
 La Salle had bidden in to share this scene 
 A group of chiefs, and gave to each of them 
 Some token 6t the season's happy cheer, — 
 A feathered pipe, a shining string of beads, 
 A handy axe, or present of such sort. 
 Within the genial warmth of hearthstone flames, 
 With copious stores of food and drink bestowed, 
 Their wintry natures thawed to give response 
 And iced reserve broke into cordial glow. 
 So fled the evening hours within the fort 
 Till midnight passing by the dizzy Rock 
 Saw still the fires alight and heard the songs 
 Sung gaily in the language of the French. 
 And when the sharers of the Christmas cheer 
 Looked out across the valley fields next morn, 
 The earth was ermined by a fall of snow 
 And winter stalked among Kaskaskia's huts 
 And spread her royal robes upon the hills. 
 
 3. D'AUTRAY'S TALE 
 A storm was raging on La Vantum's hills, 
 White-breathed and furious it drove the sleet 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 53 
 
 Among the trees and shot its bolts of ice 
 Against the walls of cliff, and spread its sheets 
 Of shifting snow upon the valley floor, 
 Then rudely caught them up in savage mood 
 And fiercely flung them to the clearing's edge. 
 The winds roared madly round the low-eaved fort, 
 And leaped like howling giants from the Rock, 
 And bellowed wildly as they raced away 
 Amongst the lonely, hollow-moaning glens. 
 
 Within the roomy fort a blazing fire, 
 Responding hotly to each gusty swell 
 That wrenched at beam and rafter till they creaked, 
 Roared lusty challenge to the winds outside. 
 Around the mud-chinked walls were tiers of bunks 
 On which were spread the pelts of buffalo 
 And bear. Above the fireplace and the doors 
 The guns and gear of chase and war were hung, 
 And fitful firelight showed on peg and nail 
 Rough garments, needful tools and implements, 
 And from the ceiling haunches of the deer. 
 Across the central space a table stretched 
 With slab seats ranged about its grateful edge, 
 And here before the roaring fire there lounged 
 On stools and rustic chairs or sprawled at length 
 On deerskins spread upon the puncheon floor 
 The hardy trailers of the northern paths. 
 They told their oft repeated stories of the past, 
 Wild tales of fierce encounter in the wood 
 With savage bear bereft of cubs; of lynx, 
 
54 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 And wild cat and the wounded deer or elk; 
 
 Of wolves withstood till dawn bestreaked the sky 
 
 And they retired like silent shadows gray. 
 
 Among these men who lounged before the fire, 
 
 The Sieur La Salle sat at the table's end,, 
 
 And over notes and outspread map he pored 
 
 In concentration lost to all about 
 
 Yet conscious of the tide of eddying speech. 
 
 Near by sat D'Autray, silent as his wont, 
 
 Who only talked when mood within was stirred. 
 
 His was a poet's nature, leagued with stars, 
 
 And sunsets, storms, and mountain solitudes, 
 
 And these sometimes unloosed his silent tongue 
 
 When his companions of the forest felt 
 
 He had come down from heights unknown to them, 
 
 And while but dimly they divined his moods 
 
 They gave him quiet reverence as their peer. 
 
 Each in that circle knew that years before 
 
 A tragedy had pierced him with its shaft, 
 
 But from his lips none save La Salle had heard 
 
 The moving story of that tragic past. 
 
 He now sat by and listened to his friends 
 
 Relate their stories of the northern woods, 
 
 And as he listened twirled a tomahawk 
 
 With handle marked by many a rude scratched notch. 
 
 At length the tongues became less talkative 
 
 Like fires upon the hearth which cease to burn 
 
 With brighter glow from having fed upon 
 
 The fuel given to their ravening flames. 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 55 
 
 Meanwhile the angry surgings of the storm 
 
 Beat yet more madly round the low-eaved fort, 
 
 And lashed the forest till it groaned in pain, 
 
 And flung its broken limbs as hostages 
 
 To stay the onward sweeping tide of wrath. 
 
 The roof and rafters creaked, and hollow roared 
 
 The fire within the massive chimney's throat. 
 
 Then D'Autray stirred, as though the boisterous night 
 
 Claimed speech from him, and said, " 'Twas such a 
 
 storm 
 Which fifteen years ago broke on the hills 
 Along the Richelieu, and marked its course 
 With prostrate pines and rudely shattered trunks. 
 It came upon the wake of days as fair 
 As any ever dawning in late fall, 
 Days like the times I'd known two years before 
 At Montreal's fur sale when Indians came 
 In loaded boats to meet the merchants there 
 And carry back the varied wares of trade. 
 There first I met the daughter of a chief, 
 A girl as graceful as the bounding fawn 
 Which plays around the grazing herd at eve. 
 I urged my suit and with her people went 
 Far up along the pine fringed Ottawa, 
 And spent the autumn in the Huron town 
 Where Chief Lacolac ruled his chastened braves. 
 I helped them fortify their villages, 
 And hunted through the forests by their side. 
 
 "When snows were gone, I launched a birch canoe 
 
56 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 And in it brought away my Indian wife. 
 
 We came to Montreal and later passed 
 
 To home-like spot along the piny shore 
 
 And built our cabin by the Richelieu. 
 
 More golden than the golden summer days 
 
 Those happy months beside the river's marge. 
 
 My bride was not as other women were 
 
 Among her tribe. Gentle she was and bright, 
 
 With laughter in her voice, like bluebird's note, 
 
 And eyes that shone like stars in shadowy streams. 
 
 And when a little life that winter came 
 
 To cheer our lonely forest habitat, 
 
 The great deep of my spirit stirred and voiced 
 
 Its answer to the mystery of life, 
 
 And I was mute with prayer of gratitude 
 
 And said, 'My cup is full to overflow.' 
 
 Through all that winter and the passing spring 
 
 And summer I was like to them that dream; 
 
 I read new meanings with the eyes of love, 
 
 New stores of joy in all about my home; 
 
 My little child with baby fingers drew 
 
 Fresh fancies from the stars and heaven's deep, 
 
 And in the whispers of the wood I heard 
 
 The luring calls from far enchanted shores. 
 
 "So passed the days, and with the autumn time 
 
 I loaded full my birch canoe with furs, 
 
 And left for Montreal, a three days' trip. 
 
 As I returned a storm broke on the hills, 
 
 And golden light was quenched, and night came down 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 57 
 
 With shadows and the howling of the wind. 
 
 The last lap up the white-capped Richelieu 
 
 Was fought against the fury of the gale, 
 
 And in the blinding swirls of chilling sleet 
 
 I brought my vessel to its mooring-place 
 
 And staggered up the shore toward my home. 
 
 No grateful firelight glowed upon the hearth, 
 
 Nor shout of childish welcome greeted me; 
 
 The door stood wide and silence everywhere, 
 
 Save as the storm gave answer to my calls. 
 
 In fear I struck the flint that gave me light, 
 
 And lying there in blood upon the floor 
 
 My woodland wife with her dark eyes aglaze 
 
 Looked through the gloom the stony glare of death, 
 
 A scalp wound gaping through her raven locks. 
 
 With deep despairing moan of agony 
 
 I caught her cold dead form and held it fast, 
 
 It may have been for hours for aught I know, 
 
 In my wild grief, while with increasing wrath 
 
 The storm outside grew in intensity, 
 
 The fit accompaniment of storm within. 
 
 And as it raged and lashed and broke the trees 
 
 I madly raved and cursed the Iroquois 
 
 Whose fiendish work I knew it must have been 
 
 That had despoiled my forest paradise. 
 
 u At length bespent I laid the body down, 
 And kindled on the hearth again the fire. 
 My child was gone, the only trace save death 
 The foe had left of presence in my home 
 
58 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Was this same tomahawk which doubtless slipped 
 
 From fastening in the brutal Indian's belt 
 
 When he had stooped to catch my partridge chick. 
 
 I gripped it hard and wildly raved again; 
 
 So through the night until the storm was spent 
 
 My savage nature often burst restraint; 
 
 But not in howlings of the tempest blast 
 
 Nor in the wild bemoanings of my breast 
 
 Was any peace or quiet to be found. 
 
 'Twas only when the gale was fully spent 
 
 And break of day showed nature's miracle, 
 
 The calm that follows in the wake of storm, 
 
 I heard the still small voice of God proclaim, 
 
 'The vengeance for the deed belongs to me.' 
 
 Then through my mind old laws from Holy Writ 
 
 Came trooping with retributory threat 
 
 And claimed me as avenger of my wrongs: 
 
 'An eye for eye avenge, a tooth for tooth, 
 
 Who sheds man's blood, man's hand shall shed his 
 
 blood, 
 Who lifts the sword shall by the sword be slain, 
 As Israel did, thou also shalt avenge.' 
 But ever to such inner reasoning 
 The voice of Deity through conscience spoke, 
 'Be still, be still, and know that I am God, 
 For vengeance unto me alone belongs.' 
 At length I paused and listening I learned, 
 And as a weaned child that's comforted 
 I've stilled my heart and waited through the years, 
 For though I dare not lift avenging hand 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 59 
 
 It yet has seemed to me my eyes shall see 
 The vindication of this hellish wrong. 
 So sure it hath appeared I've written here, 
 *'Sui a tue' on le tuera par caV 
 With this he held his slender tomahawk 
 So that the firelight fell upon the blade, 
 And Sieur La Salle read to the group again 
 The legend graven in their native tongue. 
 
 A hush had fallen on the company 
 
 As though above the deed a mightier power 
 
 That silent worked through time were sensed by them. 
 
 But now that D'Autray's voice no longer spoke, 
 
 The spell was broken and the men gave vent 
 
 To words of hate, the index of their time, 
 
 As they reveiwed his sad experience. 
 
 One said he should have raised a company 
 
 Among the men along the Richelieu 
 
 And followed hard upon his foeman's trail 
 
 And giv'n no respite till he'd found and slain 
 
 The last man of the ranging murderous band. 
 
 Another counseled that he should have watched 
 
 The waterways and spent his days alert 
 
 In taking toll on roving Iroquois, 
 
 While others urged surprise or night attack, 
 
 The hand of flame, the poisoning of the springs, 
 
 Or some such fatal thrust of vengeful hate. 
 
 To these the high-souled D'Autray made reply: 
 
 *He who has slain by this shall he be slain — Liberal translation. 
 
60 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 "Let those who may with slaughter stain their hands, 
 
 I dare not dye my own with vengeful blood. 
 
 With friends I will defend the camp and home 
 
 Against the ruthless men of blood who rise, 
 
 But will not urge a personal war nor strife, 
 
 For no man dares to let the hordes of hate 
 
 Run rampant through his breast unless he place 
 
 His soul at hazard with all chance to lose, 
 
 And he who takes the sword by it shall die. 
 
 Stand still and see the wheels of circumstance 
 
 Turn round, for on them it is plainly writ, 
 
 'To God belongeth vengeance for all deeds.' 
 
 Beyond the ken of puny finite men 
 
 Are potent laws that rule the universe, 
 
 Its morals and its vast machinery, 
 
 And no man safely runs a counter course, 
 
 For hate will surely wreck the vengeful soul." 
 
 "Well," said a friend who'd urged reprisal's means, 
 
 "Give me your tomahawk, we'll hang it here 
 
 And wait the proof you feel is sure to come, — 
 
 The chance for it is but the hope to find 
 
 A needle lost within a stack of hay." 
 
 He reached his hand and took the shining blade 
 
 And hung it just above the chimney-shelf, 
 
 Then as the evening deepened, one by one 
 
 The men retired and soon were lost in sleep, 
 
 And only Sieur La Salle with map and notes 
 
 Kept vigil in the lonely wind-wracked fort. 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 61 
 
 4. MONONGONEE 
 
 A sentry on the lofty wind-swept Rock 
 Looked down the valley toward Kaskaskia's huts 
 And saw an Indian coming up the trail. 
 He moved with easy grace along the path 
 Among the shadows blue below the cliffs; 
 A furry blanket wrapped the supple form 
 Which showed the strength of sinewy catamount, 
 And something in the savage's advance 
 Struck off the thought within the sentry's mind, 
 "The way yon Indian moves along the path 
 Shows he's more panther than he is a man." 
 The Redman on his part, as though he knew 
 The quarry which he meant to stalk, approached 
 The Rock and took the pathway to the fort 
 And climbed the steep ascent and shortly stood 
 Before the entrance to the guarded ground. 
 Among the natives who had thronged the place 
 In recent weeks and helped to build the fort, 
 This one had not been present. Now he peered 
 Within the heavy door and stealthily 
 Looked on the scene, — the fort and palisade, 
 As though he saw not, yet saw everything. 
 
 The guard with one alert apprizing glance 
 Had recognized him as the chief who late 
 Had sought to break the Council at the Cave. 
 The Indian sensing his disfavor said: 
 "I am Monongonee and wish to see 
 
62 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 The Sieur La Salle." Then stood erect in pride 
 
 And waited for an answer to his words. 
 
 The sentry sought La Salle and brought reply 
 
 The Sieur would see his guest within the fort, 
 
 And hither passed the chief with catlike tread. 
 
 La Salle arose to greet his visitor 
 
 Who lately parted from him as a foe, 
 
 And bowed, reserved, a welcome to his guest, 
 
 The other, watching as with adder's eyes, 
 
 Gave neither bow nor gesture while he spoke 
 
 In measured terms of suave apology: 
 
 "I bring regrets for insult lately given, 
 
 I thought you friendly to the Iroquois, 
 
 But fort and palisade disprove the thought. 
 
 Accept my words and with me share good will." 
 
 Before the wily statement of his guest 
 The features of La Salle at once relaxed; 
 With friendly grace he reached forgiving hand 
 And grasped the subtle Indian's but to find 
 In cold response and black averted look 
 The empty meaning to his studied words. 
 "It is his pride," he thought, "we'll let it go." 
 And straightway motioned him to occupy 
 The fireside circle's highly honored seat, — 
 A great chair covered with a bison's hide. 
 The Indian deigned no answer but to lift 
 The skin and spread it on the floor, then said, 
 "Earth is my mother and with her I rest." 
 So saying, he sat down and looked around 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 63 
 
 Through narrowed lids on what was ranged about, — 
 
 The firewood, tables, bunks, and piles of furs, 
 
 The tools and implements and drying venison, 
 
 The gear and garments hanging on their pegs, 
 
 And all the varied stores of trapper's craft. 
 
 His furtive gaze drank in most greedily 
 
 The weapons of defense, — the cannon brought 
 
 From Fort Miami ere the fall of snow, 
 
 And several rifles of prodigious length 
 
 To swell the Rock's foreboding armory. 
 
 He saw the tomahawk above the hearth 
 
 Where it had hung since D'Autray told his tale 
 
 The night the storm had raged around the Rock, 
 
 And as the Indian gazed upon the blade 
 
 La Salle beheld his countenance light up, 
 
 And oft the Redman cast a covert glance 
 
 Toward the chimney wall, and when he left 
 
 He asked the weapon might be given him, 
 
 But vouched no reason for his frank request. 
 
 And Sieur La Salle had made reply to him: 
 The owner of the tomahawk was gone 
 To Crevecour with important mission charged, 
 So he could not make gift as asked the chief, 
 But other present might bestow in place. 
 And this the proud Monongonee received 
 And when he left the fort his cold reserve 
 Seemed broken, but beneath this outer guise 
 His Indian nature schemed with subtlety 
 And bided time in which to work his will. 
 
64 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 And when Sieur D'Autray had returned again 
 
 La Salle informed him of the incident 
 
 And bade him keep his weapon under lock 
 
 If he regarded it of special worth, 
 
 But D'Autray answered, "Kismet: let it stay; 
 
 We'll watch the wheels of circumstance turn round." 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 1. THEIR HOMELY JOYS 
 
 The harsh pursuits of hardy pioneers 
 
 Who waged their warfare with the wilderness 
 
 Forbade the play of superficial life. 
 
 For these stout hearts the wood and field required 
 
 Continuous conflict with wild nature's power. 
 
 Their path was traced through shadowy forest wastes 
 
 Where death lay crouching in a hundred forms, — 
 
 In fateful issues of the hunter's quest, 
 
 The stroke of bear, the spring of catamount, 
 
 The thrust of wounded deer or bleeding elk 
 
 The covert trail of cruel timber wolves, 
 
 And yet more stealthy move of Indian foe. 
 
 With falling limb and blinding winter storm 
 
 And treacherous passage of the water ways 
 
 They kept a constant rendevous with death. 
 
 For them the unremitting toils of life 
 
 Gave little time for aught save livelihood; 
 
 The forest bowed before the flashing axe, 
 
 The lowly cabin in the clearing rose, 
 
 The log and brush heap filled the wood with smoke, 
 
 The gashing plowshare gored the rootbound soil, 
 
 The hopeful seed was flung from tiller's hand, 
 
66 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 The harvest yielded to the sickle's thrust, 
 And toil and patience reaped their scant reward. 
 Small wonder then their homely joys were found 
 In pleasures of the rough and wilder sort, 
 In tests of virile strength and match of skill 
 With axe and firearms and the swift canoe. 
 The dangers of the wood and rapid stream 
 Gave constant challenge to their daring souls, 
 The wounded bear they followed to the cave, 
 They trailed the mountain lion through the pine, 
 They stalked the panther in his rocky lair, 
 And held the hungry timber wolves at bay. 
 On crest of spumy waves they drove their barks 
 Among the rocks which churned the rapid's flow, 
 And fought their foemen in their native haunt 
 With skill surpassing e'en the Redman's craft. 
 
 Their festal days were spent in tests of strength, 
 
 In brutal bouts and orgies wild carouse; 
 
 The ruder elements awoke within 
 
 The chord responsive to the savage strain, 
 
 And bestial bedlam ruled their feasts and games. 
 
 And if to these were joined the Indian sports 
 
 And race with race were intermingled close, 
 
 The play of passion broke restraining bounds 
 
 And found expression in the ways of sin, 
 
 And oft the hidden fires of smoldering feuds 
 
 Burst angrily again to lurid flame. 
 
 Or if the Redman kept a separate course 
 
 And found his pleasure only with his race, 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 67 
 
 The customs born of strange and cruel rites 
 
 Came crowding from the superstitious past 
 
 And introduced themselves in festal scenes. 
 
 Like tides which draw their swelling strength from far 
 
 And unrestrained spread their waters wide, 
 
 So from the dark unfathomed surge of time 
 
 The revelers drew the meanings of their rites 
 
 And cast religion in a mystic mold, 
 
 And peopled nature with a spirit host. 
 
 The winters of the north held life in leash, 
 
 Like helpless brooks by icy fetters bound, 
 
 And forests in their smothering shrouds of snow; 
 
 But with the coming of the spring the leash 
 
 Was slipped, the brook became a surging flood, 
 
 And woodlands waked to joyous pulsing song. 
 
 2. TONTI'S MISSION 
 
 No sooner had the low-eaved fort been reared 
 
 Upon the Rock above the Illinois, 
 
 Than Sieur La Salle devised a festal day 
 
 On which to celebrate its opening, 
 
 And timed it with the coming of the spring. 
 
 And that the tribes through all the wide Northwest 
 
 Might share the triumph of the great event 
 
 He planned to send a worthy messenger 
 
 With invitation to the native camps. 
 
 Too much reserved his good friend D'Autray seemed, 
 
 So he was sent to Crevecour to take charge 
 
 And thus free Tonti for the journey's task. 
 
68 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 The snow lay deep upon the valley floor 
 
 And ice had bound the river's sluggish flow 
 
 When Tonti made appearance at the fort. 
 
 He spent long hours each day o'er maps and notes 
 
 With Sieur La Salle until the route was traced, 
 
 And all details prepared for wintry trip, 
 
 Then with Ottonoway he left the Rock 
 
 And took the long trail to the distant tribes. 
 
 They drew a narrow sledge on which were stored 
 
 Their blankets, snowshoes, skillet, axe and guns, 
 
 Jerked meat, a bag of grain, and varied gifts 
 
 Designed for chiefs and sachems on the route. 
 
 Each carried at his side against surprise 
 
 A pistol; Tonti also wore his sword. 
 
 Accoutred thus the two scouts quit the fort 
 
 And started on the snowy trail that ran 
 
 The circuit of the scattered Indian camps. 
 
 They went far north by way of Maramech, 
 
 And through the forests to Wisconsin's Fox, 
 
 And westward to the Mississippi's shore, 
 
 Then southward on their zigzag course they wound 
 
 Until beside the Ohio's limpid flood 
 
 They turned their steps toward the Rock again. 
 
 Two moons waxed full and waned before their trip 
 
 Was ended and they climbed the timbered stairs 
 
 And gave report of all their wanderings, — 
 
 What sights they saw, what ventures they passed 
 
 through, 
 And how they were received among the tribes. 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 69 
 
 They told how on the start a storm had struck 
 
 Their trail whilst they were far from lodge or hut. 
 
 And sensing danger speedily they made 
 
 At once rude shelter where the wind had piled 
 
 The trees the year before in tangled mass, 
 
 With trunk on trunk and interlacing limbs, 
 
 And here upon the leeward side they leaned 
 
 Birch poles and covered them with balsam boughs, 
 
 And filled the sheltered space beneath with leaves, 
 
 And built a fire against the nearby logs. 
 
 Then crawling underneath their piny roof, 
 
 They waited till the storm swept by and calm 
 
 Came once again among the lonely trees, 
 
 When they crept forth and broke anew the trail. 
 
 One cloudy afternoon along the Fox, 
 
 They heard the long drawn howl of timber wolves 
 
 And knew the hungry pack was on their trail, 
 
 But steadily they pushed ahead and slept 
 
 Between two blazing fires that night and saw 
 
 Betimes when rising to renew the flames, 
 
 The shining eyes which glared from covert haunt; 
 
 But with the earliest streakings of the dawn 
 
 The pack dissolved like creatures of a dream. 
 
 In snowbound villages beyond the Fox 
 
 They found the symbols of the Jesuit faith, — 
 
 The tree-formed cross on which were hung dyed skins, 
 
 Red girdles, bows and arrows, — offerings 
 
 Which showed the promptings of the Indian heart, 
 
 And how the wild Mascoutin sought his peace. 
 
70 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Amongst Ojibway wigwams further north 
 The winter held the braves in thrall, and here 
 The inmates gambled with the cherry stones, 
 And only quit the game when spoils were gone 
 And luckless players parted with their garb. 
 Here, too, they found despondent and forlorn, 
 A broken remnant of the Huron tribe, 
 Half-starved, a prey to dread and haunting fears, 
 And shivering in their lonely lodges lest 
 The prowling Iroquois with murderous hands 
 Should burst upon the hapless camp again. 
 From these Ottonoway and Tonti heard 
 Such tales of torture that the hot blood chilled, 
 And even the sombre listening hemlocks moaned 
 In sympathy above the fireside group. 
 
 In all these haunts amongst the northern tribes 
 The visitors were graciously received; 
 The caches where the maize was stored gave up 
 A copious yield. The odorous kettles steamed 
 As feasts of dog and bear meat were prepared 
 In honor of the guests who bore the tribes 
 The invitation for the festal day 
 Arranged to mark the opening of the fort. 
 
 So crossing frozen swamps where wild rice stalks 
 With frayed blades fluttered in the biting wind, 
 Ottonoway and Tonti gained the huts 
 Where dwelt the hostile Sioux, and here they found 
 The warriors holding council to prepare 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 71 
 
 For bloody conquest 'gainst the neighboring tribes 
 
 With budding of the mandrakes in the groves. 
 
 But as these heard their guests relate the plans 
 
 For celebration on the Illinois 
 
 To ratify the great confederate pact, 
 
 They modified their counsels speedily, 
 
 That they might mingle in the grand event, 
 
 And chief and sachem promised they would send 
 
 The news to reach the others of their tribe. 
 
 Then southward through the villages that lay 
 Along the Colbert's shores, the messengers 
 Passed down until beyond the fettering ice 
 They saw the waters glisten in the sun, 
 And roll away in wide majestic sweep 
 To melt upon the mild horizon's rim. 
 Here bartering for a stout canoe they passed 
 From tribe to tribe, and ever as they held 
 The calumet aloft and told their tale 
 The Redmen gave a welcome to their guests. 
 
 Thus to the lodges where Peoria's tribe 
 
 Was domiciled they made their way, and ate 
 
 Their steaks of catfish baked on heated stones, 
 
 And told their story of the late-built fort 
 
 And celebrating day to crown the work. 
 
 They passed to where the crystal river's flow 
 
 Was merged with dark Des Moines, and Kickapoos 
 
 And wild Maroas built their villages, 
 
 Then by the Alton cliffs upon whose face 
 
72 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Strange creatures of a hideous shape were drawn, — 
 
 Crude deities to guard the flowing tide. 
 
 And so to scenes near by the tawny surge 
 
 Of mad Missouri's flood, where Kansa dwelt 
 
 With Mahas, Pawnees, and Osages bold. 
 
 The round of generous feasts again was shared, 
 
 Once more the story told of fort-crowned Rock 
 
 And coming festal day, and once again 
 
 Their hosts expressed goodwill, and favor showed 
 
 In happy dancing of the calumet. 
 
 At length their southbound craft crept round the point 
 Where fair Ohio's wealth of waters merged 
 With turgid flow of Colbert's massive flood, 
 And skirting by the river's willowy fringe 
 They reached the tepees of the Shawnee tribe. 
 Here as the harbingers of spring they heard 
 The bluebird and the robin sing, and saw 
 The wild geese wedging northward in the blue. 
 Before their guests the squaws set stores of sweets, 
 Fresh made among the dripping maple groves. 
 Here told again the visitors their tale 
 Of fort erected on the northern Rock 
 And gala muster planned to celebrate. 
 
 Among the warlike Pottawattamies 
 They next found lodgment where the Wabash flows, 
 As they passed northward on their homebound course. 
 With these they ate the parched corn and samp, 
 And drank the blood-red sassafras from bowls 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 73 
 
 Their hosts set steaming by them on the ground. 
 
 They crossed the portage to the Kankakee, 
 
 And drifting down the current paused brief while 
 
 Among Miami camps, retold their tale, 
 
 And smoked the pipe of peace, and on a day 
 
 When sun was wed to earth in spring's first rites, 
 
 They passed upon the swollen Illinois 
 
 Below the guardian cliffs which lined their course, 
 
 And 'mongst the green-fringed islands of the stream, 
 
 They saw afar the lilied flag bestir 
 
 Above the gray roof of the rock-perched fort, 
 
 And drifting round the mossed and lichened base, 
 
 They tied their craft and climbed the timbered stairs 
 
 To find a royal welcome on the crest. 
 
 3. THE OPENING OF THE FORT 
 
 The Judas trees were blooming on the bluffs, 
 
 And plums were spreading tents of snowy white 
 
 Among the islands of the Illinois, 
 
 When once again as at the rally held 
 
 In Council Cave the river teemed with craft 
 
 Which brought the tribes from still a wider range. 
 
 Again Kaskaskia's huts to overflow 
 
 Were filled by tribesmen sensing new designs; 
 
 Again the smoke of many camps perfumed 
 
 The woods and curled above the drowsy fires. 
 
 This time the streams of Indian life converged 
 Upon the level top of Eagle Cliff, 
 
74 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 For here La Salle had caused his men to make 
 Provision for the comfort of the tribes 
 Which gathered for the opening of the fort. 
 Five thousand warriors from the nearby camps, 
 And from among the tribes where Tonti passed, 
 Assembled for the great triumphal day. 
 Kaskaskia's scant reserves of food, and all 
 That might be gathered from the plain and wood, 
 Or taken from the river's fertile breast, 
 Were stored to meet the needs of hungry guests 
 Who came the long trails from the distant camps. 
 Abundant piles of wood were massed for fires, 
 And temporary lodges crowned the cliffs 
 And all made ready for the gala day. 
 A running track had on the level ground 
 Been cleared for tests of speed. A longer course 
 Was also marked which ran by cliff and stream, 
 And scaled the bluffs by seeming trackless paths, 
 So steep and narrow was the route at times. 
 
 A cannon boomed at morning's earliest flush; 
 Its echoes answered from the encircling hills, 
 And life bestirred within the waking woods, 
 Along the shores, and on the river's breast. 
 The great chiefs of the near and distant tribes 
 Came ere the sun was risen two hours high, 
 And passed within the entrance to the fort 
 Where Sieur La Salle and others of his aides, 
 In courtly garb gave welcome to the throng. 
 Again, as at the Cave, with princely hand 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 75 
 
 He lavished gifts upon the tribal heads, — 
 
 A score of guns, and hatchets for their needs 
 
 He gave with beads, cloth, shirts, and hunting knives, 
 
 And gilded trinkets from the shops of France 
 
 Brought here by toilsome labor from Quebec. 
 
 Then as the chiefs reclined beneath the trees, 
 
 And smoked complacently their pipes supplied 
 
 With liberal grants from his tobacco store, 
 
 La Salle harangued his solemn visaged guests : 
 
 "This hour bodes well, my Brothers of the West, 
 
 For us in formal conclave met to-day. 
 
 In keeping with the promise which I made 
 
 But few short months ago, you see this fort 
 
 Erected as the seal of our good faith. 
 
 To-day we celebrate its opening 
 
 And dedicate it to our mutual weal; 
 
 Here are the towers whose guns command yon stream, 
 
 And pledge protection to your fields and homes; 
 
 Here other structures soon will grace this Rock, 
 
 Receive your furs and give a fair exchange; 
 
 Here floats the flag of France whose lilied folds 
 
 Assure the safety of the weakest tribe; 
 
 Here you have gathered from afar and near 
 
 To pledge allegiance in the common cause, 
 
 And from this spot good-will and brotherhood 
 
 Shall emanate from tribe to tribe as far 
 
 As Colbert and his rivers drain the land. 
 
 Take, then, these guns and use them in the chase, 
 
 And for protection of your forest homes, 
 
 But never in the fratricidal fray; 
 
76 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 i 
 
 And with these hatchets make you scaffolds firm 
 Against the winds to hold your honored dead, 
 And to confirm your confidence in us 
 I pledge in turn with these the faith of France." 
 
 So saying he two costly wampum belts 
 
 Held up and passed to right and left, then lit 
 
 His treasured calumet and handed it 
 
 From chief to chief. Thus on the fort crowned Rock 
 
 The bond of fealty was ratified. 
 
 Whilst thus engaged a band of black-robed priests 
 
 Te Deum sang with lusty voices clear, 
 
 Which rang above the peaceful Illinois, 
 
 And stilled the thousands gathered on the stream, 
 
 The further bank, and all about the rim 
 
 Of wooded bluffs toward the east and south. 
 
 Then on the signal from the Sieur La Salle 
 
 The great guns of the fort boomed thunderously, 
 
 The lilied banner of old France was run 
 
 Above the eastern tower, and lower down 
 
 A string of pennants passed from tower to tower, 
 
 Each bearing on its face the totem sign 
 
 Of one or other of the assembled tribes, 
 
 And thus designed to grace the river front 
 
 And give the chiefs surprise. Then underneath 
 
 The floating banner stood the Sieur La Salle 
 
 And said as on his gesture rose the throng: 
 
 "By virtue of the power of our Great Prince, 
 
 The mighty and most high Louis Fourteenth, 
 
 Invincible, victorious King of France, 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 77 
 
 Who by the grace of God reigns over seas, 
 
 And holds this continent by rightful sway, 
 
 I, on this first of May, and in the year 
 
 Of sixteen hundred eighty three, A. D., 
 
 By right of my commission signed by him, 
 
 Our most puissant King, do hereby name 
 
 This post in honor of His Majesty 
 
 Fort St. Louis, and take possession here, 
 
 For him and his successors to the crown, 
 
 Of this domain and all the nations, tribes, 
 
 Towns, cities, villages, resources, woods, 
 
 Mines, minerals, within the boundaries 
 
 Drained by the Colbert and his streams. 
 
 And being first of European powers 
 
 To visit in these virgin wilds we hold 
 
 The right of the discoverer to claim 
 
 These lands in honor of our noble King. 
 
 And since accorded to the Crown by tribes 
 
 In solemn council met we will protest 
 
 All who attempt invasion of these realms. 
 
 Of this and all made needful by our pledge 
 
 We take our oath beneath the flag of France.*' 
 
 On this the muskets' volleyed concert broke 
 The stillness reigning for the formal hour, 
 And once again the thundrous cannon boomed, 
 And all the thousands on the circling bluffs, 
 The river and the farther shore, sent up 
 A ringing shout which echoed from the hills. 
 Then heartily the black-robed priests sang clear 
 
78 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Vexilla Regis on the scented air, 
 
 And so they dedicated Rock and Fort. 
 
 This ceremony at an end, La Salle 
 
 Extended invitation to the chiefs 
 
 To view the fort within, and led the way 
 
 Where they might see his start of enterprise, — 
 
 His store of goods and stacks of valued pelts, 
 
 The earnest of success in future trade. 
 
 Monongonee with others moved about, 
 
 And while at length before the fort La Salle 
 
 Discoursed on further projects he devised, 
 
 The chieftain lingered in the room within 
 
 And longing gazed upon the tomahawk 
 
 Still resting high above the hearth as hung 
 
 That gusty night when D'Autray told his tale. 
 
 Alone at last he reached with stealthy hand 
 
 To draw the weapon 'neath his blanket's fold, 
 
 When Tonti in the door behind appeared. 
 
 The Indian stayed his hand and through strained lids 
 
 He flashed his hate and said, "I wished to see." 
 
 And Tonti looking squarely at the chief 
 
 Remarked with dryness, "Yes, one sees it best 
 
 While holding it," where on the chief strode out 
 
 And Tonti took the weapon for the time 
 
 And locked it safely in his steel-bound chest, 
 
 And gave the sentry orders to observe 
 
 Who came and went thereafter through the room. 
 
 Beneath the trees upon the gray Rock's crest 
 La Salle next gave his guests abundant feast, 
 
ALONE AT LAST HE REACHED WITH STEALTHY HAND 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 79 
 
 Then all passed down and crossed to Eagle Cliff. 
 Here festive kettles steamed above the fires, 
 Attended by a throng of stolid squaws 
 Whose yelling children raced beneath the trees, 
 And 'mongst the groups of warriors lounging there. 
 Through this thick swarming mass of life La Salle 
 Passed with the chiefs and gained the late cleared 
 
 ground 
 Where in the course of time the games were called. 
 Here in the tests of speed Ottonoway 
 Held easily the victor's place, although 
 A hundred fleet-limbed runners vied in sport, 
 And pressed the races on the woodland course. 
 Of these, a stripling, Ouma, he who once 
 Had led the hunters on the Kankakee 
 To where his chief was tied a prey for wolves, — 
 Now grown to manhood, swift of foot ran close 
 Beside Ottonoway, yet always lost, 
 And showed his spleen in jealous thrusts of hate. 
 He claimed adoption by the Illinois, 
 And though an alien, classed himself as such. 
 
 A Winnebago won in leaping feats, 
 
 For trained far north upon the snow to ski, 
 
 He'd learned to dare the wildest jumps and seemed 
 
 To skim the spaces with a panther's ease. 
 
 The prize for skill with bow and arrow fell 
 
 To an Ojibway chief whose flint-chipped dart 
 
 At forty paces peeled a hazel wand, 
 
 And who with second shaft cut clean the stem 
 
80 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Of post oak leaf set as a fluttering mark. 
 
 In skill of wrestling bouts a Frenchman won, 
 
 And threw all comers who were matched with him, 
 
 For but few years before he'd learned the tricks 
 
 Of soldiers and of sailors so that none 
 
 Among the Indians or his countrymen, 
 
 Could hold against the cunning of his strength. 
 
 In trials of their rifles put to test 
 
 Ottonoway again won victory. 
 
 From Eagle Cliff he shot across the space 
 
 To point beside the fort where had been set 
 
 A pole to which a walnut was attached, 
 
 And after many guns had been discharged 
 
 In vain attempt to hit the dangling mark 
 
 He took his aim and sent the speeding ball 
 
 From height to height and smote the baffling nut 
 
 And knocked it shattered from its dizzy hold. 
 
 In sports like these the hours wore on, 
 
 And then to close the contests of the day 
 
 They called the long race on the broken course 
 
 Which lay across the bluffs toward the west. 
 
 The runners gathered round the Sieur La Salle 
 
 Protesting that Ottonoway should race. 
 
 He knew the course, they claimed, and with his speed, 
 
 No runner with him fairly could compete. 
 
 The young chief on his part disclaimed he knew 
 
 The course, except between the fort and Cliff, 
 
 Where all alike might know if they but looked, 
 
 And eager to maintain a runner's rights, 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 81 
 
 Besought in turn the privilege to race. 
 
 La Salle gave verdict should the chieftain run 
 
 He must give handicap a hundred yards; 
 
 With readiness of youth, Ottonoway 
 
 At once acceded to the rule imposed. 
 
 Then down the cliff the runners passed and went 
 
 Along the course marked out for them, — a trail 
 
 Of trees fresh-blazed and leading up and down 
 
 Among the canyons and along the bluffs, 
 
 A mile toward the west. Should runner veer 
 
 For more than forty yards on either side 
 
 The axe-notched trees and miss the plain marked course, 
 
 He then would be disqualified, but all 
 
 Within this space of four score yards was range 
 
 Where each for self might choose the easiest path 
 
 To reach the summit of the Eagle Cliff. 
 
 The runners slowly moved along this trail 
 
 And noted every feature by the way 
 
 Where leap might count, or grasp of bush might help, 
 
 Or level space give chance for burst of speed; 
 
 And at the further end they ranged in line, 
 
 Full sixty athletes from the gathered tribes, 
 
 Clad in their breech cloths and their moccasins. 
 
 A hundred yards behind this virile row 
 
 Ottonoway was placed upon his mark, 
 
 Then when from Eagle Cliff a gun was fired, 
 
 All toed the scratch and at a rifle's shot 
 
 Leaped forward with the flash, and so were gone 
 
 Like deer which run before the timber wolves. 
 
82 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 They take the stream before with nimble bound, 
 
 They climb the bushy cliff and gain the top, 
 
 They race along the summit's dizzy edge, 
 
 They plunge with cat-like leaps from ledge to rock 
 
 And reach a canyon's floor, then climb again 
 
 The bush-grown walls by slippery paths and so 
 
 Up, on, then sharply down again; they gain 
 
 A lower level leading to the notch 
 
 Behind the fort and make the last descent 
 
 Before the final climb to Eagle Cliff; 
 
 And all the course bears traces of the race, — 
 
 A cast-off moccasin, a runner down, 
 
 A broken bush upon the canyon's side, 
 
 Or slide upon the slope where foot has slipped. 
 
 As forward pressed the race, two led the troop, 
 
 The Winnebago and the Illinois, 
 
 Who in the earlier sports had shown their skill, 
 
 And now were seeming victors of the race, 
 
 For yards ahead they led the rushing throng 
 
 And sped the course with ease of flying fox. 
 
 Meantime Ottonoway with runner's skill, 
 
 Had pressed the race with strength and speed reserved; 
 
 Soon had he gained upon the streaming throng, 
 
 And passed the hindmost stragglers on the course, 
 
 And steadily by twos and threes and tens 
 
 Sped by the racers till but four remained 
 
 Between himself and those who led the group; 
 
 These four he passed upon the sandy slope 
 
 Which led within the notch behind the fort, 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 83 
 
 Where as he gained this vantage spot he saw 
 
 The Illinois run thirty yards ahead, 
 
 The Winnebago half the space behind. 
 
 As down the slope toward the stream he dashed, 
 
 He like the Winnebago veered sharp south, 
 
 And leaped the channel with an agile bound 
 
 From edge of sharp cut rock and so across 
 
 To equal point, and thus escaped the climb 
 
 Of space which lost the Illinois his lead 
 
 And forced him into place beside the chief, 
 
 The Winnebago slightly in advance. 
 
 And now they climb, Ottonoway knows well 
 
 This portion of the course, and in short time 
 
 He leaves behind the wrathful Illinois, 
 
 And up the Cliff with nimble feet he speeds, 
 
 The Winnebago soon he passes by, 
 
 And gains the summit and the screeching crowd, 
 
 And is proclaimed the victor of the day. 
 
 And as the final runners one by one 
 Climb up, and panting lie upon the ground, 
 La Salle among the assembled chiefs bestows 
 Six rifles as the prizes for the race. 
 The one Ottonoway receives is trimmed 
 With mountings of the gunsmith's finest art; 
 And in the glow upon the young chief's face 
 And in Neonee's flush as she stands near, 
 And in the scowl upon the rival's brow 
 One plainly reads the age-old passions play 
 In pride and love and envious jealousy. 
 
84 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 4. THE CALUMET DANCE 
 
 With sunset's colors fading in the sky, 
 
 The May night shadows gathered round the Rock, 
 
 And denser darkness filled the canyons' depths. 
 
 The Indian fires on Eagle Cliff's wide top 
 
 Glowed brighter with the deepening of the night, 
 
 And round them stirred the children and the squaws, 
 
 And in their shadows sat the braves and chiefs, 
 
 And here and there amid the firelit throngs, 
 
 Was heard the booming of the hollow drum 
 
 And sharp staccato of the rattling gourd. 
 
 Across the sable curtained stretch of night, 
 
 The fort, aglow with myriad tallow dips, 
 
 Shone like a flaming lighthouse on the Rock; 
 
 The entrance gates stood wide, the slopes were lit 
 
 By flaring pine-knots set among the trees; 
 
 A double guard was placed above the stairs 
 
 And strong reserves stood by in reach of arms, 
 
 For though the festive functions of the day 
 
 Bode happily for future peace and weal, 
 
 La Salle well knew that vigilance must mark 
 
 Each step of enterprise among the tribes, 
 
 Lest at some point unguarded all might fail; 
 
 So here while gracious hospitality 
 
 Kept open house, the eye was on the watch. 
 
 Meantime as night wrapped shadows round the Rock, 
 The springs of action moved on Eagle Cliff, 
 Among the swarthy circles round the fires, 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 85 
 
 Where old men told the tales of councils when 
 
 Grave treaties by the tribes were ratified, 
 
 And in the ceaseless throbbing of the drums, 
 
 One common impulse seemed to rise and spread 
 
 Until the whole assembly thrilled to it, 
 
 And gave it voice as thus a great chief spoke: 
 
 "My brothers, let us take the calumet 
 
 And go upon the Rock, and with the dance 
 
 Give Sieur La Salle the pledge of our good faith." 
 
 At once along the bluff and through the wood, 
 
 The thrill of purpose stirred the throng to life, 
 
 And rising from their seats upon the ground, 
 
 And gathering round their leaders in the glare 
 
 Of camp-fires and the flaring knots of pine, 
 
 The whole vast company began to form 
 
 In wild procession to the beat of drums, 
 
 And rhythmic rattle of their dancing gourds. 
 
 They wound about the summit of the bluff, 
 
 With heavy chant and deep-toned chorusing, 
 
 Which timed itself to throbbing of the drums 
 
 And thumpings of the pebbles in the gourds; 
 
 Then at the edge with frantic yells and leaps, 
 
 They bounded down the steep and dangerous paths 
 
 With seeming recklessness of life and limb. 
 
 And yet this mighty human cataract 
 
 Poured down the wild and rugged canyon wall 
 
 Without the breaking of a bone. In glare 
 
 Of burning brands and flaming knots of pine, 
 
 The horde flowed to the base and leaped the stream, 
 
 Then with the rhythmic chant resumed again, 
 
86 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 They swarmed along the sandy upward trail 
 And clambered up the stairway of the Rock, 
 And crowded through the gateway of the fort, 
 Where Sieur La Salle in regal raiment garbed, 
 With his associates a welcome waved, 
 And waited for the issue of their act. 
 
 First as the throng assembled on the Rock, 
 
 A chief unrolled and spread a rush-wove mat, 
 
 Another on this laid a beaver robe, 
 
 And on it others placed their manitous. 
 
 Then next they spread about their warrior arms, 
 
 As though to form a trophy with their bows 
 
 And arrows, quivers, hatchets, clubs and guns, 
 
 And in the centre of this tribal gear, 
 
 With reverent hand they laid the calumet, — 
 
 A red stone pipe cut from the plastic vein 
 
 In distant quarry by Superior's shore, 
 
 And furnished with a stem of straight-grown ash, 
 
 From which there hung long tufts of ebon hair, 
 
 And feathers of the eagle and the owl. 
 
 And as each sachem filed to take his seat 
 
 He gave his tribal god revered address, 
 
 And stooped to lift the sacred pipe, and danced 
 
 With graceful sway while holding it aloft 
 
 And blowing forth the smoke in fleecy clouds. 
 
 So passed the lengthy file of chiefs and sat, 
 
 While warriors ranged behind, and all the space 
 
 Became a hive of animated life 
 
 In which were mingled squaws and screeching boys. 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 87 
 
 Now from the circle of the chiefs there rose 
 One perfect as Apollo in physique, 
 And passing to the mat he took the pipe 
 And raised it toward the sky as though 
 He summoned all the glittering stars of night 
 To witness here the pledging of their faith. 
 To earth, to wood, and to the stream below, 
 He reached the calumet as offering these 
 To share with them the tribes' fidelity. 
 All this he did to rhythmic throb of drums, 
 And rattling clash of pebbles in the gourds, 
 And chanted cadences of Indian voice. 
 Thus gracefully the dancing chief advanced 
 Around the circle, and the mouth-piece pressed 
 Against the lips of brother chiefs who drew 
 The smoke and blew it high in curling clouds. 
 
 Then next the dancer beckoned from the group 
 
 A second chief who rose and from the mat 
 
 Took bow and arrow as for fatal strife, 
 
 And with poised dart and threatening look of hate, 
 
 Rushed to the fray, when lo : the calumet 
 
 Is interposed and panic claims the foe, 
 
 And back he draws and runs in craven flight. 
 
 Thus each advance and threat the foe may make 
 
 Is thwarted by the magic calumet, 
 
 Moved rhythmicly to keep the time with chant 
 
 Of deep-toned voices in the circling throng, — 
 
 Such power lies hidden in the sacred pipe. 
 
 At length the chorus dies to silence, then 
 
88 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 The bearer of the calumet relates 
 
 The list of battles he has fought afield, 
 
 And names the places where the strife was joined, 
 
 The tribes that waged the conflict with his own, 
 
 What captives by his vengeful hands were bound 
 
 And led afar from thence in servile file 
 
 To burn at stake or till his fields of maize. 
 
 When thus he had harangued his auditors, 
 
 A patriarchal chief unrolled a robe 
 
 Of beaver-skins which round the dancer's form 
 
 He threw, and bade him pass the calumet 
 
 From hand to hand until the elder chief 
 
 Received it once again and blew the smoke, 
 
 Now toward the moon and now toward the earth, 
 
 Then handed it in grave and reverent act 
 
 To Sieur La Salle while thus he spoke and sealed 
 
 The covenanted pact before the throng: 
 
 "The sun has looked upon our tribes today 
 
 As we have gathered here to seal our faith 
 
 And pledge the loyal feeling of our hearts; 
 
 Long as he shines above this noble Rock, 
 
 Long as the waters lave its moss-grown base, 
 
 Long as the moons shall follow in their file, 
 
 And long as any remnant of our tribes 
 
 Shall range these prairies, we will keep the faith 
 
 Which we have plighted with you here this day; 
 
 In testimony of this faith assured, 
 
 We give the calumet and with it give 
 
 Our yet most sacred treaty wampum belt." 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 89 
 
 With this he there unrolled a shell-wrought scarf, 
 On which by arduous toil of skillful hands, 
 Were worked the figures of an Indian chief 
 And leader of the French joined hand in hand, 
 In token of a lasting brotherhood 
 Resolved to keep inviolate their pledge. 
 
 To him La Salle replied in happy terms : 
 
 "Right glad are we to here confirm this pact 
 
 By which the tribes are leagued with power of France, 
 
 And on our part we covenant to keep 
 
 The faith as brothers in one family born. 
 
 This fort, these guns, our valiant soldiery, 
 
 And all that might of arms can hold secure, 
 
 We pledge in here maintaining your defense. 
 
 The traffic needful for the tribes' supply 
 
 We will protect at any cost, and send 
 
 Among your camps the teachers of the Word 
 
 Who shall declare to you the way of life. 
 
 The seal of faith we set upon our pledge, 
 
 Confirming it with gift of gun and gear." 
 
 Then to each chief some token of good-will 
 He gave with hand so free and generous 
 His store of kettles, hatchets, pistols, guns, 
 And other ware was well-nigh made deplete; 
 But by his gifts he larger favor won, 
 And long the chiefs and sachems on the Rock 
 Sat smoking as they counciled how they might 
 Confirm and strengthen from the Lakes to Gulf 
 
90 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 The terms of covenant they made that day. 
 
 Still further feasting followed on the Rock, 
 
 And then in gladsome dance the chanting throng 
 
 Surged down the stairway to the level plain, 
 
 Where fiercer and more savage revels ran 
 
 Their race with passing hours in wild excess 
 
 Of rude barbaric joy. The Indians leaped 
 
 And yelled and rolled upon the sandy soil, 
 
 And tossed their tomahawks in whirling flight 
 
 And caught them with deft hand on their return. 
 
 One incident alone that boisterous night 
 
 Bore augury of ill, — a weapon thrown 
 
 From out the surging crowd against the tree 
 
 Where stood Neonee and Ottonoway, 
 
 To watch, removed, the orgy's wild carouse. 
 
 Yet by what hand the tomahawk was thrown, 
 
 And for what purpose none might then divine, 
 
 But had a close observer seen the glint 
 
 Which shot through fierce Monongonee's drawn lids, 
 
 Or glimpsed the furtive smile on Ouma's face, 
 
 He might have sensed the plottings of a crime 
 
 And trailed the craven act to felon source. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 1. THE DEEPENING OF THE SPRING 
 
 As springtime's season lengthens into June 
 
 The forest verdure shifts to deeper green, 
 
 The maizefields stir with newly planted life, 
 
 The river mirrors all the lovely forms 
 
 That droop in gracefulness along her shores; 
 
 The black bass leap above the silvery flood 
 
 In ecstasy of life's abounding joy, 
 
 And kindly nature smiles upon the scene 
 
 Atoning for her wintry cruelties. 
 
 The violets in sunny nooks long since 
 
 Have dropped their faded hoods in graves of green. 
 
 The ferns in mossy beds unroll their fronds 
 
 Like hairy little fledglings half awake. 
 
 The thrush's song, the robin's roundelay, 
 
 The flicker's rolling note, the dove's low moan, 
 
 Make minstrelsy as in enchanted land, 
 
 And" bluffs re-echo to the calls of love. 
 
 The mallard's mate from noisy flock retired, 
 
 Has built her down-lined nest among the reeds 
 
 And hatched her brood of fluffy young, and led 
 
 Her nimble charges to their feeding grounds. 
 
 The bison calves now frisk about their dams 
 
 In sportive play upon the rolling lands, 
 
 And with the dawn of each June day there breaks 
 
92 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 The hollow booming of the prairie cock, 
 
 And bird-songs from the woodland fill the hours, 
 
 And float across the plains and down the vales; 
 
 And when the deepening season's balmy night 
 
 Drops silently her shrouding curtain folds, 
 
 A mellow music through the darkness drifts 
 
 With subtle sweetness of a pleasant dream, — 
 
 The fall of waters tinkling in the glens, 
 
 The kildee calling in his vagrant flight, 
 
 The brown owl trilling soft his song of love, 
 
 The red-fox answering to his barking mate, 
 
 And moonlight flooding all the land with gold. 
 
 On night like this La Salle upon the Rock 
 
 Beside the strongwalled fort dreams as he stands 
 
 And drinks the beauty of the moonlight scene. 
 
 He sees the vision of his enterprise 
 
 Take form and substance as a dream made real, — 
 
 Vast fleets of elm canoe sweep to the Rock, 
 
 And cargoes of rich peltries are discharged; 
 
 New convoys here make up and pass down stream 
 
 To gather other stores along their route, 
 
 And voyage on to France from Colbert's mouth. 
 
 He sees the line of growing Empire stretched 
 
 From Anticosti, up the river's length, 
 
 By way of wild Niagara, the Lakes, 
 
 This Rock, Prudhomme, the Fort upon the Gulf, — 
 
 And wealth and fame and power, the triple crown 
 
 Which he would place upon his nation's brow. 
 
 But even as he dreams the vision fades, 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 93 
 
 The moon is quickly overcast by clouds, 
 A storm sweeps suddenly across the sky 
 And dims the stellar lights with dark and rain. 
 
 2. THE CANYON OF THE DEER 
 
 Ottonoway by Arimoni's flood 
 
 Sat resting from the chase; June crowned the hills 
 
 With richest flowers and densest foliage. 
 
 From hidden seat he could observe each way 
 
 The river in approach and onward flow. 
 
 The stream was running high from copious rains 
 
 Which for three days and nights had drenched the 
 
 plains 
 Around the source, and now the tawny tide 
 Was roaring down its channel's tortuous course. 
 Beneath his tree the scout looked on the flood, 
 And on the moment was aware a craft 
 Was laboring against the rushing tide, 
 And slowly urged along the further shore 
 By two strong Indians, — one Monongonee, 
 The other, Ouma, his young satellite. 
 Almost upon the instant down the stream 
 A barge with seven braves shot into view, 
 And closing with the other passed from sight 
 Against the northern bank as though the hill 
 Had swallowed them a stone's throw from his seat. 
 
 The hunter knew the place; that here the way 
 Led back within a canyon where the floor 
 
94 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Was surfaced by the Arimoni's flood, 
 
 And in the entrance there on either hand, 
 
 One from his craft at rest might almost touch 
 
 The sharp-cut walls with his short paddles tip. 
 
 The only spot for landing in such time 
 
 Within the flooded glen, a cave-like shelf, 
 
 Where at the canon's head the waters swirled 
 
 Around a glittering cascade's foaming base, 
 
 And cut among the rocks a giant bowl, 
 
 Made, so tradition said, for Manitou. 
 
 Here to this canyon when the floor was drained, 
 
 The circling Indians drove the panting deer 
 
 And slaughtered there the herd. Now on its flood 
 
 Monongonee led in his visitors, 
 
 And one might know the act presaged some plot 
 
 As dark and wild as was the cavern's stream. 
 
 The laboring craft were stayed beside the shelf 
 
 Which spread far back beneath the crumbling rock, 
 
 And here Monongonee with careful foot 
 
 Stepped lightly to the slippery landing-place 
 
 And motioned with impatient hand his guests 
 
 To seats upon the rocky cavern floor, 
 
 Then scowling darkly said, "What madness this 
 
 Which sends the birch-bark message to my hut, 
 
 And bids me meet you here? Do you not know 
 
 A watchful panther crouches on the Rock? 
 
 La Salle, no squaw-chief with a heart of crow, 
 
 Defends the Illinois and kindered tribes, 
 
 And coming now to such a place as this 
 
 It is to bolt within the wild beast's lair." 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 95 
 
 To him the leader of the band replied, 
 
 "What danger here? Disguised as Kickapoos, 
 
 We pass unchallenged down this treacherous stream, 
 
 We here confer an hour, and then are gone 
 
 Like morning mists from off the meadow's breast, 
 
 And who is wiser for our fleeting stay? 
 
 Besides our chief has bade us test this stream, 
 
 And see if we may lead our bands by it 
 
 When with the coming of the autumn frosts, 
 
 We plan again to spoil the Illinois. 
 
 From you we are to learn conditions here, 
 
 How best to make attack, then hastening home, 
 
 Report and guide our warriors to the fray." 
 
 Monongonee, appeased, sat for the hour 
 And told the spies what late events transpired 
 Upon the Rock and in the Indian town; 
 How distant tribes were moving to the place 
 And building wigwams 'neath the sheltering guns. 
 Upon a roll of bark he sketched a map 
 To show where guides should meet the Iroquois, 
 How time their fleet to sail the Illinois, 
 Where leave the river for the valley trail, 
 What paths to take, what ambuscades to set, 
 Where best to make attack upon the fort, 
 How strike Kaskaskia at the sunset hour 
 And drive the panic-striken natives west, 
 And then returning, sack the captured fort, 
 And leave the Rock with smoking ruin crowned. 
 
96 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Meantime Ottonoway passed down the shore 
 And found his boat and crossed the raging stream, 
 And climbed the steep, and on the dizzy edge 
 Looked down upon the canyon's seething flood. 
 He saw the craft below and guessed some plot 
 Were being hatched upon the shelf beneath, 
 But search as best he might he found no spot 
 Where he could see the group in council met, 
 And so, impatient, waited through the hour 
 And saw at length the company depart, 
 Mistrusting that the braves were Iroquois. 
 Once on the Arimoni's boiling flood, 
 Monongonee's canoe sped down the stream, 
 The spies crossed over and in single file 
 Passed quickly to the prairies of the south, 
 And evening found them many miles removed. 
 
 Ottonoway told Sieur La Salle that day 
 What he had seen by Arimoni's stream 
 And in the flooded Canyon of the Deer, 
 And how he thought the visitors were spies, 
 But could not bring the proof beyond the fact 
 He'd found a dart-head of peculiar type 
 Upon the cave-like shelf within the glen 
 Where sat the braves with fierce Monongonee. 
 La Salle gave answer thus to his grave guide: 
 " 'Tis not in reason spies should come so near, 
 Besides our hunters bring no word of foe 
 On plain, in wood, or by the water ways. 
 They're only friends of wild Monongonee 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 97 
 
 Who visit him to plan a hunting trip, 
 
 Or autumn journey to some neighboring tribe. 
 
 However, it is strange that they should come 
 
 By such a route and meet in such a spot. 
 
 It may be well to watch that wary wolf, 
 
 Who keeps La Vantum in disturbed foment, 
 
 And send him on an errand to Crevecour 
 
 To help Jacques D'Autray bring the anvil here 
 
 We're needing for the gunsmith's forge and shop." 
 
 And so it was in false security 
 
 La Salle awaited issues, blind to signs 
 
 Which threatened overthrow to cherished plans, 
 
 And watched in vain for coming of supplies 
 
 Long overdue and needed in the fort. 
 
 3. NEONEE 
 
 Neonee in the darkness of the night 
 
 Had fled Monongonee's rude hut in haste. 
 
 A savage orgy through the evening hours 
 
 Held bedlam session in the wild abode, 
 
 And broke at length in brutal violence 
 
 About the hapless Indian maiden's head. 
 
 Young Ouma urged his heated suit of love 
 
 And strove to win by force. Monongonee 
 
 With counter craft in mind, had struck him down 
 
 And said, "You want to cross our plans too soon." 
 
 Then in the brawl Neonee slipped away, 
 
 And night received her as a faithful nurse. 
 
98 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Couched on a mossy mound beneath an elm 
 
 She slept that night and with the light of dawn 
 
 Fled from the village in her birch canoe, 
 
 And sought the odorous woods to spend the day 
 
 Until the hut's vexed currents should subside. 
 
 She pushed her little vessel from the shore, 
 
 And rode the waters like a fairy sprite, 
 
 Fresh as the dawn and flashing as the dew, 
 
 A creature lovely as the rosy morn. 
 
 With graceful motion like the sway of limbs 
 
 When gentle winds bestir the lacy larch, 
 
 She moved her paddle, and with rhythmic stroke 
 
 She drove her craft mid-current down the stream, 
 
 Until among the willows to the west, 
 
 She saw the Arimoni's silvery lane 
 
 Lead down from rugged forest-covered hills, 
 
 Then up its shimmering course she pushed her barque. 
 
 Oftimes she quit the stream and climbed the slopes, 
 
 Or silent sat among the shadowy rocks 
 
 To watch the playful sports of silvan life. 
 
 The squirrel, surprised to find her there, gave vent 
 
 To ruffled feelings with his scolding bark, 
 
 Until he heard her answering call, then came 
 
 And frisked upon the log before her seat. 
 
 A mother grouse led by her furry brood, 
 And when almost against Neonee's foot, 
 She saw the maiden's form and gave alarm 
 And as by magic disappeared her flock, — 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 99 
 
 The only tell-tale token of their fright 
 Was one wee head which peeped from 'neath a leaf. 
 The hen with swift wing whirred away in flight, 
 But soon stole back and seeing nought to fright 
 She gave soft call to claim again her chicks. 
 
 Deep in the wood, the maid with noiseless tread, 
 Stole shadow-like upon a spotted fawn 
 Which lay as still as were the ashen leaves 
 And branches of the broken tree 'mongst which 
 It couched and blended with the forest's floor. 
 And yet it stirred not though she stood so close 
 That with her hand she might have touched its ear. 
 Amongst the rushy pools beside the stream 
 She saw a wary wild-duck with her brood 
 In morning quest of snails and polliwogs. 
 And one time with a broken branch she drew 
 An overhanging limb to her canoe, 
 And saw within a lichen-covered nest 
 Two tiny milk-white eggs of humming bird, 
 While round the sycamore in rapid flight 
 The anxious ruby-throated builders flashed. 
 
 Thus up the Arimoni passed the maid, 
 And by the river's marge and on the slopes, 
 Found never-ending wonders of the wild, — 
 Soft floors of luscious moss where fairy hordes 
 Might hold high carnival on moonlit nights; 
 Rank liverwort whose waves of blue and green 
 Splash spumelike up the beetling walls of cliff; 
 
100 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Wide beds of fern and bracken where the fox, 
 
 A wary Robin Hood, creeps stealthily, 
 
 And preys on life less skilled in craft than he. 
 
 Here climbing over massive walls of rock 
 
 Warped by the agony of hidden fires 
 
 Long ages since, and there again where streams 
 
 With chiselling force had carved fantastic forms, 
 
 And in the deeper mazes of the wood 
 
 In burrow, nest, and covert nook she found 
 
 The secret treasures of the forest folk. 
 
 And ever as she moved among their haunts, 
 
 She echoed back in perfect mimicry, 
 
 The cry and call of every vagrant bird. 
 
 So through the morning hours she passed up stream, 
 
 And ranged through many a shadowy flower-lit glen, 
 
 And came at length upon a water fall 
 
 Where broken cliffs lay heaped in shattered ranks. 
 
 Here baby rainbows played among the mists, 
 
 And wreathed the bowlders with their roseate bands, 
 
 While laughter rippled through the rushing flow, 
 
 And mournful spirits of the dead tribes sang 
 
 Their requiem in tuneful monotone. 
 
 A little space apart Neonee sought 
 
 A mossy seat beneath a thick-leaved beech, 
 
 Where she might watch unseen the path and stream, 
 
 And hear the droning of the waterfall, 
 
 And dream among the shadows of the wood. 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 101 
 
 The past rose pageant-like before her eyes, 
 
 And in a wigwam by a brawling stream 
 
 She saw herself, an Indian child, first note 
 
 The scenes that wrote themselves in memory. 
 
 Around her home the other wigwams stood, 
 
 And stretching over mountains and rough hills, 
 
 Vast, lonely, dripping wastes of solitude. 
 
 And through these scenes Monongonee, then young, 
 
 Stalked like a fiend on evil errand bent, 
 
 His lodge more turbulent than was the stream 
 
 That raged outside. She fled his cruel blows 
 
 And spent the hours in ranging through the wood, 
 
 And learning secrets from the creatures there, 
 
 And luring them to her with mimic cries, — 
 
 The love call of the moose, the bleat of fawn, 
 
 The bark of reynard and the chirp of squirrel. 
 
 The veery answered her with silvery call, 
 
 The blackbird left his willow perch to learn 
 
 What mate with sweeter note piped in reply, 
 
 And like a golden flute the hermit-thrush 
 
 Let fall his answering song at eventide. 
 
 Upon her seat beneath the beechen tent, 
 Her waking vision saw the unhappy train 
 Of scenes of vice and wretched cruelty, 
 The ragings of the fierce Monongonee, 
 His fits of temper and his brutal blows, 
 The lodge's stream of wild pernicious deeds, 
 Through all of which she'd been preserved unscathed. 
 Before her passed her lovers in review, 
 
102 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Unwelcome, unrewarded in their suits; 
 And most disliked, Monongonee's young brave, 
 Who with him kept the camp in wild tumult, 
 And ever urged his quest with zeal and heat. 
 
 Amongst these figures of her mental train, 
 
 One rose in manlier form, Ottonoway, — 
 
 The thought of whom encouraged happier mood, 
 
 For with the passing of the months, their love 
 
 Had ripened for the nuptial day to dawn 
 
 When Sieur La Salle should so arrange his plans 
 
 To give the hunter guide his pledged release. 
 
 In fancy now she saw him as her eyes 
 
 Beheld him first in camp below the Rock, 
 
 Where with La Salle he stood upon the shore, 
 
 When with the squaw she'd brought Chief Mogree's 
 
 gift. 
 She saw him as he climbed the Eagle Cliff, 
 A victor in the great race of the day 
 The fort was opened when he'd won the prize. 
 And saw him, too, as none else had, as oft 
 They'd met at trysting places in the wood. 
 
 And now as though her dream to substance changed 
 
 She looked along the path beyond her seat, 
 
 And there among the shadows of the trail, 
 
 She saw her lover pass below the rocks, 
 
 And on the instant saw him pause alert, 
 
 As broke the sobbing of a whippoorwill 
 
 Upon the stillness of the afternoon. 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 103 
 
 A moment more, a great owl's booming note 
 Is heard above the roaring waterfall, 
 And soon the seat beneath the screening boughs 
 Has been discovered by the observant chief, 
 And he has reached the Indian maiden's side. 
 The few brief hours till June's fair day is done 
 Speed by, and down the Arimoni's course, 
 On moonlight's silvery trail, Ottonoway 
 Guides carefully Neonee's fragile barque, 
 And rounding on the mother stream they move 
 Against the current to Kaskaskia's door. 
 
 4. AS FLIES THE CROW 
 
 Time in La Vantum wearied on his march, 
 
 And bivouaced in the midst of tedious days, 
 
 And listless sat upon the river bank. 
 
 And watched the sluggish Illinois glide by 
 
 While August dyed the land with drab and gray. 
 
 The squaws awoke at morn and built their fires, 
 
 And fed tTieir surly overlords who lounged 
 
 In shady spots or scattered to the wood; 
 
 The women wandered wide in search of food, 
 
 And day wore on unbroken by a sound, 
 
 Except perchance a shout, or wolf cub's snarl 
 
 Provoked by baiting thrusts of Indian lads. 
 
 Then with the waning of the afternoon, 
 
 The gleaning squaws returned, refreshed their fires, 
 
 Prepared the game and fish their lords brought in, 
 
 And so performed their tiresome round of tasks. 
 
104 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Whilst thus the town pursued its usual course, 
 
 Neonee and Ottonoway, one eve, 
 
 Far from the village strayed upon the bluffs, 
 
 And came to Horse Shoe Canyon's rim and sat 
 
 An hour above the western gorge and talked 
 
 Of matters pleasing to their lover's mood. 
 
 A crow tamed by the maid accompanied them, 
 
 And with odd antics added to their sport. 
 
 Their talk in part was of the lodge and fort, 
 
 And plans for future prospects when the guide 
 
 Should be recalled to Canada and take 
 
 Neonee as his bride to far Quebec. 
 
 "Now what if I should put you to the test 
 
 And go not lest you won another race?" 
 
 Neonee said. "Suppose I pitted you 
 
 Against my bright-winged crow and made the terms, 
 
 And only went if you should win the race." 
 
 She forward leaned and looked far down beneath, 
 
 Where eighty feet below the rope-like vines 
 
 Began their tortuous climb to trees above, 
 
 Then turning to Ottonoway she said, 
 
 "Suppose that you were down there in the glen, 
 
 And I with Master Crow were sitting here, 
 
 And I should bid you come to me before 
 
 My bird should fly the half leaugue to the fort, 
 
 And then return, and you failed first to win, 
 
 And I refused to go to old Quebec, 
 
 What then? These losers make such sorry mates 
 
 We maidens do not wish their company." 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 105 
 
 Thus challenged, forward bent Ottonoway 
 
 And studied long the glen and rocky wall, 
 
 The rope-like vines and ledges on the cliff, 
 
 Then in his turn he smiled at her and said, 
 
 "I do not lose: for see that vine far down 
 
 Beside the rock which guards yon shining pool, 
 
 I take my stand there with my hunter's knife; 
 
 Now start your bird, I simply cut my vine 
 
 And climb the rock and as I reach its top, 
 
 Your crow is at the lonely Witch's Cave. 
 
 With my free vine I swing across yon space 
 
 To that high ledge where ferns and woodbine grow; 
 
 Your pet is flying over Wildcat Canyon now; 
 
 I creep along the ferny shelf until I reach 
 
 That second vine you see beside the bush, 
 
 And as I cut it, round the Devil's Nose 
 
 Your tame bird flies to circle o'er the fort. 
 
 I swing once more, this time across the glen, 
 
 And drop among the bushes where I point. 
 
 Your crow has scarcely reached the Eagle Cliff 
 
 On his return when I am climbing up 
 
 By bush and limb the intervening space. 
 
 And while the Bee-hive Mound he has just passed, 
 
 Before his shadow falls on Pulpit Rock, 
 
 I've scrambled up and reached your seat and won, 
 
 And now claim hand and pledge and lover's right." 
 
 With this he kissed the Indian maiden's lips 
 
 And sat with her in lover's close embrace, 
 
 And watched the evening colors shift and fade 
 
 Upon the canyon's rugged fern-draped walls. 
 
106 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Although Neonee was in mind assured 
 
 Her lover might accomplish as he said, 
 
 Still seeming unconvinced she made reply, 
 
 u Ah well, it's far away to old Quebec! 
 
 Your vine may break and you come tumbling down, 
 
 And Master Crow and I be left to wail." 
 
 Meantime the bird had ranged at happy will, 
 
 And now sat scolding on a black-oak bough 
 
 Short distance to the rear. A fallen tree 
 
 With tangled mass reclined below his perch, 
 
 And here from limb to limb he nimbly hopped, 
 
 And fretted with impatient piercing cries, 
 
 As though a crafty fox or stealthy lynx 
 
 Were hiding in the broken mass of limbs. 
 
 The lovers quickly noting this advanced, 
 
 When Ouma rose amongst the prostrate boughs, 
 
 And stole away shamefaced yet hot with rage. 
 
 "I hate that sneaking wolf," Neonee said, 
 
 "He's stalked us here to spy upon our plans, 
 
 And if he only dared would do us harm." 
 
 Ottonoway made no reply, but watched 
 
 His rival disappear among the trees. 
 
 But when before the week had run its course 
 
 The hapless crow was found, a ruffled mass, 
 
 Its head wrung from its neck, beside a path 
 
 Close by La Vantum, both the lovers knew 
 
 The deed was Ouma's, though no proof was found. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 1. THE AUGUST BLIGHT 
 
 How fades the freshness of the springtime growth 
 In field and grove and by the dried up streams, 
 As though the furnace glow of summer's heat 
 Had scorched the living green to faded brown. 
 The plastic forms of April's budding art, 
 The sheen and vigor of the leaf and shoot, 
 The masses of upspringing shrub and plant, 
 Absorb the lassitude of passing days 
 And weary of their beauty, grace, and strength, 
 They droop bedraggled, dull, and token death. 
 The mantling ivy, climbing o'er the cliff, 
 The early sign of autumn color shows; 
 The maples in the dried and fissured swamps 
 Their inner leaves be-dye with crimson hue. 
 The forest's undergrowth which struggled long 
 Against the oppression of its loftier kind, 
 Resigns to nature's slow and blighting grip. 
 Dull browns and withered grays with mocking hues 
 Of coming death now fill the landscape where 
 A few short months before the healthy green 
 Of vigorous life was showing everywhere. 
 
 The river islands frowzy with their growth 
 Of reeds and rushes, ragweed, dock and cress, 
 
108 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Have lost their Maytime freshness, and repose 
 Like weary beggars sprawling in the sun, 
 Unkempt, forlorn and dressed in faded brown. 
 The canyons now are silent haunts of gloom, 
 Where rocks in naked ugliness are strown; 
 No grateful streamlet murmurs on its course, 
 And plant leaves shrivel on the thin-soiled shelves. 
 Nor less the languor on the sultry plain, 
 Where drouth has bleached the grass, and placed her 
 
 seal 
 On faded flowers and stalks of sturdy weeds 
 Which lift their leaden heads above the sward 
 And pale with sicklier hue beneath the sun. 
 The dewless night lets down her sable pall 
 And covers heated plain and withering wood, 
 And hot winds stir and sigh amid the grass. 
 The bison snorts and rolls his anxious eye 
 And sniffs afar the coming prairie fire. 
 Then as the red tide sweeps the tindery plain, 
 It drives before its hot and billowy surge 
 The hapless creatures of the grazing lands, 
 And only halts along the timbered streams. 
 
 2. LA SALLE'S LAMENT 
 
 The half spent August afternoon was on, 
 The sunlight shimmered on the Illinois, 
 And glinted on the sea of leafy green 
 Around St. Louis on its castled Rock. 
 No note of bird nor call of waterfowl 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 109 
 
 Was heard in forest or along the stream; 
 
 The blazing heat and deep intensity 
 
 Of silence brooded over everything. 
 
 The sentinel upon his watch half drowsed, 
 
 And looked with sleepy eyes upon the group 
 
 Of trappers sprawled within the grateful shade 
 
 Of pine and oak which on the summit grew. 
 
 Within the shadow of the fort apart, 
 The Sieur La Salle with faithful Tonti sat 
 And thus communed upon his plans and work: 
 "Do you recall," said he, "the promise shown 
 In this fair enterprise when we began? 
 The scattered tribes convened at Council Cave 
 From ranges full two hundred miles away, 
 Along the Mississippi and Des Moines, 
 And from Ohio's tributaries south, 
 And from the sources of the Kankakee. 
 Remember you that morning when the tribes 
 Came down the Illinois and from the west? 
 The stream was all alive with water craft, 
 And bands came in across the plains as well. 
 Remember how they drove their tests on us, 
 And we replied, "Our Father over seas 
 Has sent us here with tokens of regard 
 And pleges of undying loyalty. 
 But form this stanch confederacy with us 
 And we will build a fort on this high Rock 
 Where all may stand against the Iroquois. 
 Remember, too, how when the fort was reared, 
 
110 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 And France's banner waved above its roof, 
 
 We called again the tribes to celebrate, 
 
 And gave assurances anew to them 
 
 That we would here protect their homes and fields. 
 
 And see with what implicit confidence 
 
 They've rested on our word." 
 
 He flung his hand, 
 And claimed the valley with his gestured sweep, 
 And Tonti, following with his gaze, looked down 
 Upon the Indian huts and fields of corn, 
 A paradise of plenty in the wild. 
 Around the clearing's edges might be seen 
 The lodges woven from the rushes' growth, 
 The cabins built from bark, and further west, 
 The sunlight falling on the village roofs. 
 
 Then Sieur La Salle resumed: "See how they've come, 
 
 Miamis, Weas, Ottawas, and all, — 
 
 Full twenty thousand souls; and we perch here 
 
 Upon this Rock like helpless birds; our fort 
 
 Strong only in its name and natural site; 
 
 One breath of animated power against 
 
 Its gates, and all our work comes crashing down; 
 
 Less than a hundred pounds of powder now 
 
 Within our magazines; our goods all spent, 
 
 Our fleets delayed and held beyond the Lakes; 
 
 My credit undermined by crafty foes, 
 
 Designing spies at work among us here, 
 
 The Church suspicious of our every move, 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 111 
 
 And New France blind to her own best concern. 
 
 What hope is there? O Tonti, could you know 
 
 The cruel crushing of one's lifetime plans! 
 
 I would have builded here for France and King 
 
 An Empire vaster than the motherland, 
 
 But Canada is full of jealousy, 
 
 And merchant, priest, and Governor combine 
 
 To throttle every promising device. 
 
 We may as well write Ichabod aloft 
 
 Upon the banner of our fort, unless 
 
 Some power unseen give aid to our designs. 
 
 The withering blight of summer's blazing heat 
 
 Has sapped the springtime verdure of our plans, 
 
 And all is ready for devouring fires." 
 
 Throughout the hours of afternoon and eve 
 
 The men reviewed their plans upon the Rock, 
 
 And Tonti well performed the role of friend, 
 
 But strove in vain to lift depression's shade, 
 
 For deeply overcast by clouds of fate, 
 
 La Salle's heroic nature might not stand 
 
 Unmoved the onslaughts of base treacheries, 
 
 And hopes delayed make kingliest hearts grow sick. 
 
 But as the evening hours advanced there came 
 
 At length another actor on the scene, 
 
 Who nerved the Man of Iron for new tasks. 
 
 For while the moonbeams fell on Eagle Cliff, 
 
 And flooded it with soft transforming light, 
 
 Somewhere from 'mongst its shadows spake a voice, 
 
 As though an Indian prophet long repressed, 
 
112 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 And courting safety in an unknown tongue, 
 In general terms and veiled speech gave vent 
 To hate, revenge, and plot of overthrow. 
 The message falling on the silent night 
 In accents vibrant with the speaker's mood 
 Was this: 
 
 "Proud Fort upon thy boasted Rock, 
 The tide will rise and climb and beat thee down, 
 And bear thy ruin on its raging breast. 
 The tide will rise and spread and fill the vale 
 With panic, battle, blood, and torture fires. 
 Before the snows shall fall and winter come, 
 The tide will rise, the tide will rise." 
 
 It ceased, 
 And Sieur La Salle to Tonti turned and said, 
 "Know you that tongue? I learned it years ago, 
 While ranging far beyond the Ohio's flow. 
 It is the Tuscarora dialect, 
 And if I guess aright, Monongonee 
 Is now among the prophets, and the voice 
 We heard is his. I thank him well, for now 
 My course is clear: I'll cut the Gordian knot; 
 Tomorrow I shall leave for Canada 
 To hasten forward our delayed supplies; 
 On you will rest the keeping of the fort." 
 
 3. THE IROQUOIS 
 
 As through some fair and peaceful valley scene, 
 A flood sweeps down from broken reservoir 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 113 
 
 And leaves behind the wreckage of its wrath, 
 With fertile meadows gashed and trees uptorn, 
 And rocks bestrown, and happy homes despoiled, 
 And death and sorrow in its baneful wake, 
 So came the fierce and wolf-like Iroquois 
 To spoil the valley of the Illinois. 
 
 The harvest moon was at its full that eve; 
 
 La Salle was gone a month; not yet arrived 
 
 The weapons and supplies from Canada; 
 
 And as the sun went down and moonlight shone, 
 
 Dark figures stole along the shadowy paths, 
 
 And unsuspected set their ambuscades. 
 
 Ottonoway was taken on the trail, 
 
 Returning heavy weighted from his hunt, 
 
 And bound and gagged before a shot was fired. 
 
 A rush was made against the fort's high gate, 
 
 But watchful eyes and valorous hands made safe 
 
 This vantage point, and then a cannon boomed, 
 
 The rifles spit their sharp and vengeful fire, 
 
 And instantly the savage war-whoop broke, 
 
 A mile away upon the other shore, 
 
 Around Kaskaskia's doomed and hapless huts. 
 
 The way to safety on the Rock was blocked, 
 
 As rushed the natives through the fields of maize 
 
 To find protection in the wastes beyond. 
 
 Then fire-brands flashed and mocking flames leaped up, 
 
 And shamed the startled moon with her mild glare, 
 
 As they devoured the huts of reed and bark, 
 
 And fed upon the rush-mats of the lodge. 
 
114 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 And in the brightness of these burning fires, 
 The Iroquois struck down with ruthless blows 
 Old men and squaws and helpless Indian babes, 
 And bound the warriors captured in their flight, 
 Or shot them as they fled the holocaust. 
 Along the clearing's edge the fierce flames raged 
 Wherever stood a Redman's hut or lodge; 
 The scaffolds of the dead were overthrown, 
 And skulls left grinning on the stakes and posts. 
 
 So all night long the lurid bursts of flame 
 
 Lit up the valley and the river shore, 
 
 And only with the morning came the calm 
 
 When for a little time the spoilers slept, 
 
 Then through the hours they stalked their harried prey, 
 
 And added other prisoners to the group. 
 
 The Fort was watched, yet feared and left alone, 
 
 But all La Vantum's trails were dyed with blood. 
 
 And with the coming of the night once more, 
 
 The Iroquois drew in their skirmish lines, 
 
 Passed by the fort well out of rifle range 
 
 And took their captives to the torture grounds 
 
 Before the entrance to the Horse Shoe Glen, 
 
 A half league distant from the silent fort, 
 
 And hidden by the intervening bluffs. 
 
 Amongst these prisoners, Ottonoway, 
 Lashed firmly to a fellow captive marched, 
 And well he knew his pathway led to death, 
 But quailed not as he forward urged his steps, 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 115 
 
 Resolved his captors see no trace of fear. 
 Throughout the hideous night and hours of day, 
 He'd sat with other captives herded close 
 Within a pen where bear-cubs oft were kept. 
 Monongonee and Ouma sometimes came, 
 And baited him with laughter and with scorn, 
 And well he knew that he was in their power, 
 And they in league with these inhuman wolves 
 Who spoiled by fire and ruthless tomahawk. 
 And oft his mind reverted to the glen 
 Across the plain by Arimoni's flood, 
 And knew these scenes the fruitage of the plot 
 Arranged upon Deer Canyon's cavelike shelf. 
 But now his dolorous march to death was on; 
 The captive band was ferried o'er the stream, 
 And as they climbed the bank his eye took in 
 The plain of fire, the row of torture stakes, 
 The wall of cliff, where, on a little way, 
 He'd sat beside Neonee not long since, 
 And planned their bridal trip across the Lakes. 
 
 Then broke the horrors of that cruel night 
 
 Upon the hapless captive Indian throng, 
 
 And through the cruel hours of agony 
 
 The Iroquois prolonged their arts of pain, 
 
 Till hell had given loathesome offspring birth, 
 
 And having born her vicious progenies, 
 
 And breathed within their nostrils breath of hate 
 
 And rabid cruelty, at once recoiled, 
 
 Ashamed and terrified to claim her kind. 
 
116 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 The screaming child was flung upon the flames, 
 The ravished maiden mocked and bound and burned, 
 The breasts cut from the squaw with heated knives, 
 The warrior's fingers crushed, his eyes gouged out, 
 The flaming powder flashed upon his brain 
 To wrench from him a last expiring groan. 
 
 Thus passed the hours with knife and fire at play 
 
 To sate the savage lust of cruelty. 
 
 And when at length the fiendish Iroquois 
 
 Have done to brutal death the captive band, 
 
 And formed a circle for the vicious close, 
 
 Monongonee leads in Ottonoway, 
 
 And flings him loose before the savage throng, 
 
 A curdling yell from half a thousand throats 
 
 Resounds to add new terrors to the night. 
 
 Monongonee for silence lifts his hand, 
 
 The circle quiets while the scarred chief speaks 
 
 To tell Ottonoway his secret hate. 
 
 "Before we kill you here to-night, know this: 
 
 A score of years ago your tribe attacked 
 
 The Tuscaroras in their southern home 
 
 And broke my people's power and drove us thence. 
 
 I found a lodgement with the Iroquois, 
 
 And swore revenge against you and the French, 
 
 With whom you were allied. In settlements 
 
 Along the Richelieu and near Quebec, 
 
 I worked my will and notched my tomahawk, 
 
 But lost it in those northern wilds one night, 
 
 And took a half breed baby as my toll 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 117 
 
 To cheer my weeping squaw who'd lost her child. 
 You know her as Neonee, woman grown, 
 But Ouma now shall claim her as his bride; 
 We've brought her here to see her lover's fate. 
 I with the Iroquois came west and sacked 
 This town Kaskaskia, but three years ago. 
 'Twas later planned that I, as spy, should come 
 And watch our foes before we next returned, 
 And so with wounds, — sham wounds, — I tricked the 
 
 tribes, 
 Dissembled hate against the Iroquois, 
 And drew about me people of my kind, — 
 How well we've worked the valley shows to-night. 
 And had not Tonti guarded well his gates, 
 That boasted fort had now in ashes lain. 
 But we have you and my revenge is sweet, 
 And heated knives and fingers crushed and split, 
 Will be but child's play to the torture pains 
 Which Ouma and myself will work on you." 
 
 With this the pair advanced, when suddenly, 
 
 Upon the bluff a hundred feet above 
 
 A figure stood, bathed in the moon's clear light, 
 
 And Tonti's clarion voice commanded, "Stay." 
 
 Each warrior gazed upon the moonlit form, 
 
 Unconscious that within the shadows lay 
 
 Twelve soldiers with their rifles cocked and primed, 
 
 Awaiting but their leader's word to fire. 
 
 The Indians saw but Tonti on the cliff, 
 
 And heard him speak to them in measured terms: 
 
118 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 "Your captive is the guide of Sieur La Salle; 
 Deliver him unscathed within the hour 
 Before the high gate yonder at the fort, 
 Or here I pledge the power of France will yet 
 Again lay low your distant towns and camps, 
 As when Champaign despoiled your villages. 
 Here is the challenge which I fling to you." 
 
 He threw far out above the maple tops 
 
 The tomahawk he carried in his hand; 
 
 It fell within the circled Indian throng 
 
 Before the feet of wild Monongonee. 
 
 With savage shout he picked the weapon up 
 
 And held it where it caught the firelight's gleam, 
 
 "It's mine," he cried, "I lost it long ago, 
 
 But what are these rough words cut on the blade ? n 
 
 Then to the guide he said, "Read this for me." 
 
 Ottonoway the weapon took and read, 
 
 " 'Sui a tue' on le tuera par ca, 
 
 He who has slain by this shall he be slain.' " 
 
 At this Monongonee raised high his fist, 
 
 And shook it at the figure on the rock, 
 
 And shouted in the Tuscarora tongue, 
 
 "Burn! kill! do what you please! I'll have revenge, 
 
 And have it here within this circle's bound." 
 
 But even as he spoke death quickly fell, 
 Ottonoway drove home the tomahawk, 
 And raising it broke through the shattered ring 
 With leaps as quick as spring of catamount, 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 119 
 
 And started on a fateful race with death, 
 The Indians yelling fiercely in his wake. 
 
 Run for thy life, brave hunter guide, the wolves 
 Of Onondagua's forests trail thy track 
 With feet well-nigh as swift as are your own. 
 Run, for the massive walls of cliff will soon 
 Hem in thy steps and stay thy speedy flight, 
 The torturers' hands are almost gripping thee. 
 With loud exultant cries the Iroquois 
 Pursue, and see their victim take the path 
 That leads him straight within the western glen. 
 But little space ahead the moon-washed walls 
 Rise sheer, forbidding, cold, — a man-trap they, 
 Among the bluffs, no footholds on their sides 
 Short of a ledge that runs some twenty feet 
 Above the broken rock beside the pool 
 Where grew the vines that climbed the cliff to find 
 Their hold upon the treetops high above. 
 With tomahawk upraised Ottonoway 
 Turned for a second, gave the death halloo, 
 Then bounded sidewise like a startled deer, 
 And grasped a rope-like vine and held it fast 
 The while he dealt it one quick skillful blow 
 Against a sapling's trunk and cut it through. 
 Then holding firm the severed end he climbed 
 Upon the broken rock nearby, and swung 
 Far out above the Iroquois, and up 
 Until he dropped upon the ledge and crept 
 Along the narrow shelf until he reached 
 
120 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 The second vine he'd marked the month before 
 
 When sitting with Neonee on the cliff. 
 
 Again his weapon cleft the slender vine, 
 
 Again he grasped and swung across the glen, 
 
 Again he saw the forms of hate below, 
 
 Again his feet touched safely grateful earth, 
 
 This time the spot where love had blazed a path, 
 
 And so he climbed by sapling, vine and limb 
 
 To where he'd sat beside the Indian maid 
 
 Short weeks before, there paused, looked down, and 
 
 gave 
 One curdling yell, defying foeman's hate, 
 Then vanished in the shadowy, moon-laved night, 
 And on the heels of Tonti reached the fort. 
 
 4. THE LOVER'S LEAP 
 
 Balked of their prey the angry Iroquois 
 Returned to where the fierce Monongonee 
 Had met his fate. In sullen wrath they raged 
 Like wolves which having lipped a quarry's blood 
 Yet lost their prey another victim seek, 
 And with a common instinct's lust for blood, 
 Their hate sought out Neonee to be slain 
 Because beloved by him who had escaped. 
 But she, divining what their wrath might seek 
 On their return, had in the exciting stir 
 Slipped silently away by river path 
 Toward the fort. The squaws had seen her leave; 
 She had not gone toward the boats near by, 
 
HE CLIMBED BY SAPLING, VINE AND LIMB 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 121 
 
 Since thus suspicion might be roused, 
 
 But slipped within the shadows of the trees, 
 
 As silently as does the night itself. 
 
 She heard the voices of the wood and stream 
 
 As she gained distance from the torture scene, — 
 
 The sobbing of the lonely whippoorwill, 
 
 The sharp and squalling bark the she-fox gives, 
 
 The long wail which the hoot-owl voices low, 
 
 A loon's wild laugh amid the island's reeds, 
 
 And once the faint far moan of timber wolf 
 
 From distant hills across the Illinois. 
 
 She crept among the shadows like a wraith, 
 
 But ere half way the distance to the Fort, 
 
 The savage Iroquois were on her trail, 
 
 Some by the path and others in their boats. 
 
 And from her leaf-screened trail she saw these last 
 
 Speed by and knew that they would soon disbark 
 
 And intercept her path. Alarmed she sought 
 
 To change her course and reach, by longer route, 
 
 The gateway to the fort, but found her foes 
 
 Already In the line of her advance. 
 
 Compelled again to take the river path, 
 
 She stole from bush to tree with cautious steps, 
 
 And ever in the shadow of the bluff 
 
 Kept moving slowly toward the friendly fort. 
 
 At length she reached the shade of Eagle Cliff, 
 
 But dared not take the narrow course that led 
 
 Beneath the pines which grew along the shore 
 
 And whose dark limbs hung heavy o'er the stream. 
 
122 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 A sense of danger warned her to a place 
 
 Of hiding on the cliff above the pines, 
 
 And here she crouched and watched the fort lights 
 
 gleam, 
 A bow-shot distant from her high retreat. 
 Below, she heard the river's sullen flow, 
 And caught the far off calls of birds of night; 
 Heard, too, in valley fields the prowling beasts, 
 And from the subtle sounds detected near, 
 She knew her path was blocked on either side, 
 And craft and cruelty were keeping guard. 
 A long hour dragged its course, then from the cliff 
 She gave the sobbing wail of whippoorwill, 
 And somewhere from the pines around the fort 
 A great owl's booming chant bestirred the night, 
 Then all was still. 
 
 Meantime Ottonoway, 
 Close after Tonti and his stalwart troop, 
 Had reached the fort and shared their glad acclaim. 
 With simple speech to D'Autray he had said, 
 "Your debt is paid," and gave the tomahawk 
 To him and passed outside the room to keep 
 A silent vigil on the high Rock's edge, 
 For he surmised his baffled foes in wrath 
 Would seek to wreak their vengeance on his love. 
 So waiting through the deepening stretch of night 
 He read the signs of danger on the flood 
 Where far below he dimly saw canoes 
 Glide round the base of Eagle Cliff, and sensed 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 123 
 
 The meaning of their cunning move to trap 
 
 The Indian maid in passage to the fort. 
 
 He listened, like Neonee, to the sounds 
 
 Which pierced the silence of the shadowy night, — 
 
 The loon's wild laugh, the moan of timber-wolf, 
 
 And, most intently, to the whippoorwill. 
 
 Then when at length he heard the sobbing wail 
 
 Which broke upon the ledge across the way, 
 
 So perfect in its strain of mimicry, 
 
 The watchers of the trail suspicioned not 
 
 A signal in the wild bird's mornful notes, 
 
 He knew and gave the great owl's answering call. 
 
 A moment more the sentry at the gate 
 Had let him pass, and like the mist he'd gone, 
 To keep again a rendezvous with death. 
 This time he crept like stalking catamount 
 Among the shadows, till along the shore 
 Toward the west he found his birch canoe 
 And launched it, then with wary noiseless dip 
 Of paddle, dropped away and swung across 
 To other friendly shore, and so upstream 
 Until he rounds the weedy island's bound, 
 And then drifts down along the southern shore, 
 As though himself a trailing Iroquois. 
 Beneath the pines whose heavy limbs swung dark 
 Above the stream and brushed the nearby cliff 
 He stayed his birchen craft, then gave again 
 The long call of the owl with faultless note, 
 And heard above him on the bluff's high face 
 
124 THE LOST EMPIRE 
 
 Once more the wailing of the whippoorwill. 
 
 Then through the sombre branches of the pine 
 
 He called one word, a soft impassioned "Come." 
 
 And hearing it, she rose from fern-draped shelf, 
 
 Climbed down to lower ledge, but still too high 
 
 To reach the pine top fifteen feet below/; 
 
 Here paused, until once more her lover's word 
 
 In whispered accents bade her quickly come, 
 
 Then poising, lightly leaped, and felt the slap 
 
 Of branches in her face, but clutched and held, 
 
 And with the stir of limbs Ottonoway 
 
 Gave piercing shriek of hapless catamount 
 
 In panther's clutch, and they who watched the trail 
 
 Thought it a common forest tragedy. 
 
 With scarce a sound Neonee passed below, 
 
 Swung from the pine's dark limb to love's strong arms, 
 
 Then lowly crouching in the birch canoe, 
 
 She saw her lover dip his paddle deft, 
 
 And drift down stream as dawn bestreaked the sky. 
 
 But wary eyes, with sign of coming day, 
 
 Intently watched the paths and water way, 
 
 And as Ottonoway from 'neath the pines 
 
 Pushed out, a shout was raised, and dusky forms 
 
 Came rushing from the wood to man the boats 
 
 And intercept his passage to the fort. 
 
 Too late: the start was his, the distance short, 
 
 And ere his cunning foes had gained their craft 
 
 Ottonoway had ground his light canoe 
 
 Below the fort, and with Neonee leaped 
 
THE LOST EMPIRE 125 
 
 Upon the shore and gained the lower gate. 
 
 Then passing through they climbed the timbered stair, 
 
 And entered by the upper door, and here 
 
 Saw D'Autray changing sentries on the Rock 
 
 In readiness for duty with the dawn. 
 
 Before the lonely poet of the wild 
 
 The pair advanced as spoke Ottonoway: 
 
 "I bring you home your daughter lost that night 
 
 The great storm broke along the Richelieu." 
 
 And looking close the poet woodsman saw 
 
 Her mother's soul in his dear daughter's eyes, 
 
 And drew her fondly to his beating heart, 
 
 And lavished names of tender love on her, — 
 
 The terms of sweet endearment breathed in French, 
 
 The raptures to his lips so long denied. 
 
 And as they stood united on the Rock, 
 
 The glowing crimson deepened in the east, 
 
 And shadowy night gave place to roseate morn. 
 
Still flows the river at the high Rock's base, 
 
 Still grow the forests on the stately cliffs, 
 
 Still speak their voices from the tragic past 
 
 To tell a race's fate, — an Empire lost. 
 
 When night wraps stream and wood with sable robe, 
 
 They whisper each to other 'neath the stars 
 
 The mystic stories of the long ago, 
 
 The stirring tales of scout and pioneer, 
 
 The weird traditions of the races gone, 
 
 The tragic chronicle of destiny 
 
 Which ended on the shore of Mexico. 
 
 Gone is the fort and gone that gallant band 
 
 Which graced the Rock and kept the waterway, 
 
 Gone, too, the Redman from his valley home, 
 
 But on the extended reach of his domain, 
 
 And in the place of visioned Empire lost, 
 
 A mightier people build a vaster realm, — 
 
 Which greets the sunrise of a Golden Dawn. 
 
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