It was mid-winter when all was ready. The rivers were frozen hard. So, placing their canoes on sledges, the men dragged them over the ice. As they went southward and spring came on, the ice melted and would no longer bear them. The stream was soon filled with floating masses of broken ice, so they were obliged to land and wait until it had melted.

Then once more they set out. Every day now they drifted farther and farther into the heat of summer. The sun shone softly through the overhanging trees, the river banks were gay with flowers, and bright plumaged birds flashed through the sunlight. After the tortures of the past winters this green and fertile land seemed a very paradise. So on the adventurers passed where never white man had passed before; and at length they reached the mouth of the mighty river and stood upon the shore of the Gulf of Mexico.

And here, while wondering savages looked on, this mere handful of white men claimed all the land through which they had passed for their King. The long silence of the wilderness was awakened for the first time by the sound of Latin chants. Guns were fired, and to the shouts of "God save the King," a pillar was set up. On it were graven the arms of France and the words, "Louis the Great, King" of France and Navarre, reigns; 9th April, 1682."

Then standing beside the pillar, drawn sword in hand, in a loud voice La Salle claimed the land for his King.

"In the Name of the most high, mighty, invincible, and victorious Prince, Louis the Great, by the Grace of God King of France and of Navarre," he cried, "I do now take possession of this country of Louisiana, the seas, harbours, ports, bays, and neighbouring straits, and all the nations, peoples, provinces, cities, towns, villages, mines, minerals, fisheries, streams, and rivers within the said Louisiana, from the mouth of the great river St. Louis along the river Mississippi and the rivers which flow there into from its source to its mouth."

As La Salle ceased speaking once more the air was rent with shouts of "God save the King," and the thunder of guns. A cross was placed beside the pillar, a Latin hymn was sung; once more "God save the King" rang out upon the still air, and the ceremony was over.

To France an enormous possession had been added. For La Salle claimed for France the greatest part of what is now the United States of America. Over all that lay between the Gulf of Mexico and the Great Lakes, between the Rocky Mountains and the Alleghanies the sceptre of Louis of France was stretched out.

But such a realm could not be held by the mere singing of hymns and planting of crosses. La Salle himself had no idea how vast a province he had claimed. But even he realised that it could not be held by words and ceremonies. He had, however, his dreams of how it might be done. In imagination he built a great city at the mouth of the Mississippi. Upon the broad bosom of the river he saw vessels pass to and fro, carrying all the trade of Canada from north to south. And all along its course forts were built. These were to serve for trading stations and also as fortresses against the ever-encroaching British. Thus if his dream came true Northern and Southern New France would be united, and wealth and glory be added to the crown of Louis.

So with his great plan in his head La Salle turned homeward. Many dangers and difficulties met him on the way. But through famine, sickness, treachery and many perils he struggled onward, and at length reached Quebec.

From there he set sail for France, impatient to tell the King all that he had done, lay his great plan before him, and beg his help.

Louis was quite ready to listen to La Salle. He gave him all and more than he asked. And before long La Salle once more sailed joyfully across the seas with a little fleet of four ships laden with colonists, and with everything necessary for the building of his city.

The plan was to sail direct to the mouth of the Mississippi and make a settlement there as the first step in La Salle's grand scheme. But from the beginning went wrong. On the way out La Salle quarrelled with the other officers. One of the ships laden with provisions and tools for the colony was captured by the Spaniards; another, filled with nearly all the remaining stores, was wrecked, and—worst of all—La Salle could not find the mouth of the Mississippi. Approaching it from the sea it was quite a different matter from sailing down from source to mouth. And coming to it from the sea La Salle could not recognise the place, and sailed some hundred miles beyond.

When at length they landed the colonists were already dispirited, and they set to work to build their little town in a hopeless, listless fashion. Many fell ill and died; others wandered away into the forests, and were never heard of more. Misery after misery fell upon the settlers. Their numbers dwindled day by day, and at the end of two years scarce forty of the two hundred colonists who had set sail from France remained.

Despair seized them all and their one desire was to return to France. But how? They were utterly alone, forsaken and forgotten. In vain they scanned the blue waters of the bay. No ship ever appeared.

Of all the company La Salle alone remained cheerful and courageous. It was he alone who saved the others from utter despair. And at length, seeing no other way, he determined once more to take the long weary journey back to Canada, and bring help from there to the starving colony.

So one January morning the forlorn little company gathered within the walls of the fort, and those who were to set out on the desperate adventure said farewell to those who were to stay behind and await their return. It was not easy to say whose lot was the harder. Words tender and sad were said, tears fell, and hand clung to hand, for a dread foreboding hung over the little company that they would never meet again.

The last words were said, the last handshake given, and the adventurers trudged away on their long, long journey. They were a weather-worn, threadbare company, fantastically dressed in garments they had fashioned for themselves out of skins of animals, old sails and other oddments. Their clothes, though quaint, were serviceable enough, but their lack of boots was yet another misery added to the many which they had to endure on their long march. But in spite of every hardship La Salle remained undaunted and confident of success.

Not so his men. Some of them, though not all, had grown to hate him as the cause of all their misfortunes, and now as day by day their sufferings grew greater, their hatred strengthened. At length there was mutiny in the camp, and one morning one of the mutineers, skulking in the bushes, shot at La Salle from behind and killed him.

As their dead leader lay upon the ground the mutineers gathered round rejoicing. But their rage was not yet sated, and to show their hatred and contempt they brutally stripped the body naked, and left it to lie unburied among the bushes, a prey to wild beasts. Thus in misery and failure the life of this great pioneer ended.

The mutineers now continued their journey, but they began to quarrel among themselves, and the ringleader was killed. What became of the others is not known. The few who had not been concerned in the murder journeyed on to Canada, which, after many adventures and hardships, they reached at length. From there they crossed to France to tell their woful tale, and beg King Louis to send help to the starving colony. But Louis would send no aid, and the colony of St. Louis was blotted out. Some time after La Salle left it was attacked by Indians. Nearly all were slain, and the few who escaped were scattered among the Indian tribes.

Thus ended La Salle's splendid dream in the blackness of utter failure. But the failure was only for the time being. La Salle had given his countrymen a magnificent idea. He had pointed out the way to them, and others walked in it.