ascend the Ottawa and Father Ménard had by this time preached in the
forests of Lake Michigan, the Jesuits had made no great discoveries in
the Northwest. All they got for their intercessions was a snub.[2]

While messages were still passing between the governor and the
explorers, there swept down the St. Lawrence to Three Rivers seven
canoes of Indians from the Upper Country, asking for Radisson and
Groseillers. The explorers were honorable to a degree. They notified
the governor of Quebec that they intended to embark with the Indians.
D'Avaugour stubbornly ordered the Indians to await the return of his
party from the Saguenay. The Indians made off to hide in the rushes of
Lake St. Peter. The sympathy of Three Rivers was with the explorers.
Late one night in August Radisson and Groseillers--who was captain of
the soldiers and carried the keys of the fort--slipped out from the
gates, with a third Frenchman called Larivière. As they stepped into
their canoe, the sentry demanded, "Who goes?" "Groseillers," came the
answer through the dark. "God give you a good voyage, sir," called the
sentry, faithful to his captain rather than the governor.

The skiff pushed out on the lapping tide. A bend in the river--and the
lights of the fort glimmering in long lines across the water had
vanished behind. The prow of Radisson's boat was once more heading
upstream for the Unknown. Paddling with all swiftness through the
dark, the three Frenchmen had come to the rushes of Lake St. Peter
before daybreak. No Indians could be found. Men of softer mettle
might have turned back. Not so Radisson. "We were well-armed and had
a good boat," he relates, "so we resolved to paddle day and night to
overtake the Indians." At the west end of the lake they came up with
the north-bound canoes. For three days and nights they pushed on
without rest. Naturally, Radisson did not pause to report progress at