88 TRANSACTIONS. 1906-7. 



happy," he concluded, "if as the outcome of all the trials, 

 fatigues and risks I have undergone in this protracted explora- 

 tion, I could succeed in proving to you my unselfishness, my 

 great ambition, as well ap that of my children, for the glory 

 of the King and the welfare of the Colony." Yet this man had 

 for years been subjected to the grossest calumny by those who 

 lacked both the physical and moral courage to match his achieve- 

 ments. 



The death of La Verendrye's son Jean has been mentioned. 

 Let me tell the story, as well as I can, as an illustration of the 

 perils the early fur-traders were called upon to face. 



La Verendrye had gone down to Montreal with a cargo of 

 furs, and upon his return, hurrying forward in a light canoe, he 

 found the little garrison at Fort St. Charles at the point of 

 starvation. The supplies were still some way behind, and it was 

 decided to send a party down to meet them at Kaministikwia 

 and hurry back at utmost speed with what was most urgently 

 required. Jean, now twenty-three years of age, was put in 

 charge, and with him went the Jesuit Father Aulneau, on his 

 way down to Montreal. 



Jean and his men were to make an early start the following 

 morning, and everything was prepared so that there might be no 

 delay. 



The sun had hardly risen above the horizon, and was yet 

 filtering through the dense foliage of pine and cedar, when the 

 party embarked and pushed off from the shore. Paddles dipped 

 noiselessly, and the three light canoes skimmed like birds over 

 the surface of the Lake of the Woods, followed by shouts of 

 farewell from the fort. 



For a time they skirted the shore, then struck out boldly 

 across the lake, the multitudinous melodies of the forest blending, 

 following them for a time, and then dying away in the distance. 

 Nothing was now to be heard but the dip of paddles and the soft 

 swirl of eddies flying backward from either side of the canoes. 

 The morning sun swept across the lake; a faint breeze rose and 

 lifted the water into a rippling surface of molten silver. Fishes 

 flashed hither and thither, intent upon their morning meal. 

 From far away came faintly the laugh of a solitary loon. The 

 men paddled strenuously, with minds intent upon nothing more 

 serious than the halt for breakfast. The priest was lost in 

 meditation. Young La Verendrye sat in the foremost canoe, 



