JACQUES CARTIER.

Verrazano told such wonderful stories of America that many other Frenchmen felt a desire to go and see the country for themselves and find out if the stories were true. But some years passed before any new expedition was sent out, and even then it was only undertaken because the French became jealous of the power that Spain was getting in the New World.

Spain already claimed Mexico, Peru, Florida, and the Pacific, and all at once the French king became alarmed and asked if God had created the new countries for Castilians (Spaniards) alone! His courtiers hastened to tell him no, indeed, and that France had as good a right as any other country to own and settle America. And so Verrazano was sent out, and after him, ten years later, came Jacques Cartier, who left the fort of St. Malo in April, 1534.

The ships sailed across the Atlantic, taking a more northerly course than usual, and in twenty days reached Newfoundland. Cartier coasted along until he reached the Straits of Belle Isle, which he passed through and entered the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and then sailed leisurely along the western coast of Newfoundland. But much to his disappointment the country was not beautiful and pleasant, as he had heard, but, on the contrary, very dismal and inhospitable. The fertile valleys and green fields that Verrazano had spoken of were nowhere to be seen, but instead only rocks and stones, and wild rough coasts.

The natives were very savage in appearance and not very friendly; and Cartier made a very short stay here, and steered across the Gulf to a bay on the opposite side, where he found the natives also in poor condition, living on raw fish and flesh, without clothing, and using their upturned canoes as houses. But the country itself was much pleasanter than that on the opposite side of the Gulf, and so Cartier decided to take possession of it. Accordingly he called all his company together, and with great ceremony raised a huge cross and claimed the whole region for the King of France.

The natives had all gathered round and stood looking on curiously. There stood the cross, thirty feet high, carved with three fleur-de-lys, and the inscription, "Vive le Roi de France;" and not at all understanding what right these strangers had to their country, the chief and his principal men told Cartier, as well as they could by signs, that they would much rather he should take the cross down again and go away with his ships and leave them in peace. And Cartier explained to them in turn that the king he served was very powerful and rich, and able to send many soldiers and take the land by force if he so wished; but that also he was a very kind and loving king, and wanted to do all that he could for the Indians, and that the very best thing that could happen to them would be to have some Frenchmen come there and settle and teach them the arts of peace.

And then he gave them some trifling presents, some strings of glass beads, and yards of bright calico, and bits of colored glass, and shining penknives, and the Indians were so impressed by these gifts that, partly from a desire to obtain more, and partly through fear of the great unknown king, they not only let the cross remain standing, but what was much more, the chief consented to let his two sons go back to France with Cartier, and see for themselves the riches and power of his country and king.

And so the two Indian boys sailed away with these white strangers, and learned stranger things than they had ever dreamed of. Never before had they been farther away from land than they could go in a day's journey in their birch bark canoes; but now, as they stood on the deck of this great ship, and saw the land fade from their sight, and the great, boundless sea all around stretch away and away until it met the sky, and the sun drop down into the water and redden its glossy waves, it was all so different from what they had been used to that their hearts grew sick with longing for home and the fear that they had sailed into a new world and left their friends forever. But by and by, as the familiar stars came out, and the moon's friendly face appeared, and the night came softly down on the sea, the ship ceased to seem so strange and looked very comfortable and pleasant, and when the morning came they did not look backward, but only forward, to that mysterious France toward which they were sailing, and which they reached after a pleasant voyage early in September.

Cartier had been gone four months, and his account of his voyage was so encouraging that it was decided to send out another expedition as soon as the winter was over. The Indian lads were well received at the French court. The king was very kind and condescending and generous, and told them that it would be his greatest pleasure to send over some of his subjects, and make all the Indians Christians. And the two boys, Taignoagny and Domagaia, looked at the silk and velvet robes of the French nobles, and at the diamonds and rubies that glittered in their sword-hilts, and at the king's beautiful palaces, and the marble cathedrals and splendid mansions of Paris, and decided that to be a Christian must be indeed a happy lot, and expressed their willingness to have their whole tribe converted as speedily as possible.

Their whole visit was a succession of wonders and delights, for France was more beautiful even than their wildest dreams of their own "happy hunting-grounds," where it was supposed that the Indians had everything they could desire. But what Canadian Indians had ever dreamed of such a land as this, with its fields of flowers, and miles of ripened grain, and sunny slopes purple with luscious grapes? Even the winter was pleasant, with but little snow and ice outside, and warm, comfortable rooms inside. Very different from their own winter, where the snow lay thick on the ground for months, and the rivers and lakes were frozen, and the pines and balsams hung thick with icicles whose musical tinkling seemed like a sad song for the summer that was gone. Yes, Cartier had told the truth, his king was very powerful and rich and great, and when the spring came and another fleet left St. Malo, Taignoagny and Domagaia were quite in love with France, and very eager for the voyage to be over, so that they could tell their friends all the wonderful things they had seen there.

Cartier and his companions were in fine spirits, for the voyage promised to be a fair one, and they were all sure that honor and wealth awaited them in the New World. In August they arrived at the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and passing Anticosti Island entered the mouth of a great river. Taignoagny and Domagaia said that the name of this river was Hochelaga, and that it came from a far distant country, and was so long that no man had ever seen the beginning of it. Cartier listened to this story with interest; the stream was so broad and deep that he thought perhaps it was not a river at all, but a strait, and that he had at last discovered the long looked-for passage to the East. But the Indians told him that as they went up the river it became narrower, and its waters changed from salt to fresh, and then Cartier saw that it could not be the wished-for strait, and so made no haste to follow its course.

He sailed slowly up the great river, which is now known as the St. Lawrence, examining the country on either side, and looking for a good place to spend the winter. He passed the Saguenay, and some distance beyond anchored at an island called by him Isle-aux-Coudres, because of the abundance of hazels, and after a short stay here, sailed still farther on and stopped at another island, which abounded in grapes and which he called Bacchus Island—now known as the Isle d'Orleans. Here he received a visit from the natives, a large number of whom had come from the shore in canoes to look at these white visitors.

Cartier invited them on board his ship, but they were afraid to come very near until Taignoagny and Domagaia appeared, and assured them there was no danger, and that the Frenchmen were friends. The Indians were rejoiced to see their two young countrymen again, and came crowding aboard the ships to hear their wonderful stories about France. Donnacona, the chief, made a long speech, in which he offered his friendship to Cartier and thanked him for his kindness to his young countrymen, and then kissed his hand and placed his arms about his neck in token of gratitude and trust, and then he invited Cartier and his men to his own home at Stadacona, a little village which stood where now stands the beautiful city of Quebec. The village stood on the cliffs, high above the river, which flowed beneath, and which formed there a pleasant and safe harbor for the ships. So Cartier accepted Donnacona's invitation and they all went to Stadacona, and spent some time there very pleasantly, getting acquainted with the Indians and learning their mode of living, listening to their stories of bear and deer hunts, and their accounts of snow-shoeing and tobogganing, and expeditions up the river and into the great forests all around.

Particularly they liked to dwell upon their battles with another great chief who lived farther up the river. This was Hochelaga, after whom the river was named, and who was the most powerful chieftain in the country. Donnacona was very jealous of him, and was therefore much surprised and grieved when one day Cartier said that he had made up his mind to go and pay Hochelaga a visit.

In vain Donnacona tried to make him believe that the way was long and dangerous, and that Hochelaga would probably take him prisoner and treat him and his men very cruelly. Cartier was all the more resolved to go. And then Donnacona resolved to play a trick upon him, and see if he could not frighten him from going to Hochelaga, and so keep all the shining looking-glasses and knives, and bright basins, and pretty glass beads for himself and his own people, for he could not bear to think that any of this wealth should fall into his rival's hands. So one afternoon, as Cartier and his friends stood looking over the sides of their ship, they saw a most horrible sight. A canoe pushed out from shore and approached the vessel. It was paddled by some disguised natives, and in it were three Indian devils. And dreadful devils they were—the Frenchmen had certainly never imagined such a kind before. Their faces were as black as soot, and they were dressed in black and white hogskins, and wore horns more than a yard long on their heads. And as they neared the ship they shouted and yelled in a very diabolical manner, and altogether acted as much like devils as they knew how. And crowds of natives followed them down to the bank, shrieking and howling and throwing up their hands, and then rushing back to the woods as if in great fright. Taignoagny and Domagaia, who stood by Cartier's side, also threw up their hands, and looking toward heaven declared that these devils had come from Hochelaga, and that the god Cudruaigny had sent them to warn the French that all who attempted to visit Hochelaga should perish on the way, for Cudruaigny would send snow-storms, and ice-storms, and cold piercing blasts from the north, and the French would all die miserably of cold and exposure.

But the French only laughed at the devils, and called Cudruaigny a "noddy," and said they had received word from heaven that the weather would be fair, and that they would all be defended from the cold, and so the Indian devils, who were no match for French priests, turned back to the shore, and the natives, giving three loud shrieks in token of their defeat, took the devils in their midst and began a wild dance on the beach; and the next day, when Cartier started for Hochelaga, they sent their good wishes with him, and promised protection to those who remained behind.

For days and days Cartier sailed along the beautiful banks of the great river, stopping now and then to enter the great forests which were full of all kinds of game, or to gather the wild grapes that hung full on every side; and everywhere the natives came down to the beach and greeted them pleasantly, and when they reached Hochelaga they found a great crowd of Indians waiting to receive them and lead them to their village. Cartier and his companions put on their velvet mantles, and plumed hats, and dazzling swords, and marched on with great pomp, followed by the admiring crowd.

The village was very pleasantly situated; in front flowed the shining waters of the Hochelaga, which was nearly a mile wide at that point, and behind, like a protecting spirit, stood the beautifully wooded mountain which Cartier called Mount Royal, a name which it still bears. The village itself stood in the midst of great fields of Indian corn, ripe for gathering, surrounded by palisades for defence against hostile tribes. There were about fifty huts, that of the chief being the largest, and situated in the centre near the great public square, where all the people now gathered and looked with wonder and reverence on these new-comers. And the mothers brought their little children in their arms, and begged that these white strangers would touch them, thinking in some strange way that even the touch of these wonderful visitors would bring blessing with it. They were quite ready to believe that these white men came from a land richer and greater than their own; indeed they would have believed that they came from heaven itself if Cartier had told them so, for all the Indians always worshipped beautiful objects, and they thought that men whose skin was soft and white, and who wore such rich clothing, must belong in some great land where men were nobler and better than poor half-clothed races like their own.

And so they brought their sick king and laid him down before Cartier, and asked him to touch him and heal him, and Cartier knelt down and rubbed the king's useless limbs and prayed over him; but more than that he could not do. But the sight of the kneeling Christians, and the sound of their prayers uttered to an unseen God, filled the Indians with awe: they too knelt down and looked toward heaven, and made the sign of the cross, and prayed as well as they knew how, that the strangers' God would pity them and heal their sick and lame and blind.

King Agouhanna then gave his crown of porcupine quills to Cartier as a token of gratitude, and as this was the only thing of the least value that the poor chief possessed, Cartier accepted it with great courtesy, and in return presented the tribe with some of those brass rings and brooches and beads and knives that Donnacona had tried in vain to keep for himself. And these made the Indians wild with joy, and so altogether the visit of the Frenchmen was a great success, and when they returned to Stadacona they told such stories of the kindness and good-will of the Indians at Hochelaga that Donnacona was quite devoured with jealousy and hated his rival more than ever.

The French built a fort now, and got ready to spend the winter comfortably, and their preparations were made none too soon, for in a few weeks the river had frozen over, and the ships lay buried in snow, and the strangers began to see a Canadian winter for themselves and judge how they liked it. Although very different from any winter they had ever spent before, it might have been a pleasant one had not a terrible disease broken out among the Indians, which soon spread to the French camp. In a short time twenty-four of Cartier's men had died, and the rest were all sick but three.

Cartier became afraid that the Indians would attack the fort and destroy his men, if they learned of their weakness, so he ordered them to keep away, and whenever any of them came near he had his men beat against the sides of their berths with sticks and hammers, so that the Indians would think they were at work. But the Indians, instead of meaning harm, thought only of doing good. As soon as they learned that the French had taken the disease they came to them and offered their own remedies, and tried in every way to be of use. The squaws brought to the camp the boughs of a certain tree and taught the French how to prepare tea from the bark and leaves, and this medicine was so powerful that in a few days all the sick became well, not only those who were suffering from this disease, but also those who were afflicted with any other malady. It is not known exactly what this tree was; it may have been the sassafras, or possibly the spruce; but whatever it was it cured the sick and the French were very grateful, and said that all the physicians in France could not have done as much in a year as these Indian squaws accomplished in one day by means of this wonderful medicine.

The French made a very cruel return for all the kindness they had received from their dark-skinned friends, for in the spring, when Cartier left Canada, he carried with him the good chief Donnacona and nine of his countrymen as prisoners to France. It was a very wicked and treacherous thing to do, for Cartier had invited the chief and his men on board the ships to take part in a feast that was being given in honor of his departure; but as soon as he saw that the Indians were in his power he gave orders for the ship to sail, and so Donnacona and his friends were carried away from their relatives, who stood crying and begging for mercy on the bank of the river, and that was the way the French left Canada and its friendly people, who had shown them nothing but kindness and trust.

It was not usual for Frenchmen to treat Indians in this way, for of all the Europeans who came to America the French were the most beloved by the natives. They were the only ones who could live peaceably side by side with their Indian neighbors, who grew to love and respect them, sometimes attending their churches and often bringing their children to be baptized by the kindly French priests, and Cartier being a Frenchman was afterward very sorry for the deceit he had practised, and, no doubt, would have taken Donnacona and his captive friends back again to Canada; but the Indians could not live in exile, and before long they had all died of homesickness except one little girl, who indeed grew up and married happily, but who still longed all her life for a sight of the wide shining river and the dark clustered pines of her native land.

Four years after, France made another attempt to settle Canada. Cartier then met with the reward of his former treachery. The Indians were no longer friendly, and refused to believe him when he said that only Donnacona was dead, and the rest were all married and living in France as great lords.

Besides, the French had been disappointed in not finding gold and silver in the country, and so after awhile Cartier's ship sailed back to France again, and it was nearly fifty years before another attempt was made to make a French settlement in the northern part of America.