As they neared the town, the Indians swarmed to the shore, and began the usual salute of musketry.  “They fired,” says Celoron, “full a thousand shots; for the English give them powder for nothing.”  He prudently pitched his camp on the farther side of the river, posted guards, and kept close watch.  Each party distrusted and feared the other.  At length, after much ado, many debates, and some threatening movements on the part of the alarmed and excited Indians, a council took place at the tent of the French commander; the chiefs apologized for the rough treatment of Joncaire, and Celoron replied with a rebuke, which would doubtless have been less mild, had he felt himself stronger.  He gave them also a message from the Governor, modified, apparently, to suit the circumstances; for while warning them of the wiles of the English, it gave no hint that the King of France claimed mastery of their lands.  Their answer was vague and unsatisfactory.  It was plain that they were bound to the enemy by interest, if not by sympathy.  A party of English traders were living in the place; and Celoron summoned them to withdraw, on pain of what might ensue.  “My instructions,” he says, “enjoined me to do this, and even to pillage the English; but I was not strong enough; and as these traders were established in the village and well supported by the Indians, the attempt would have failed, and put the French to shame.”  The assembled chiefs having been regaled with a cup of brandy each,—­the only part of the proceeding which seemed to please them,—­Celoron reimbarked, and continued his voyage.

On the thirtieth they reached the Great Miami, called by the French, Riviere a la Roche; and here Celoron buried the last of his leaden plates.  They now bade farewell to the Ohio, or, in the words of the chaplain, to “La Belle Riviere,—­that river so little known to the French, and unfortunately too well known to the English.”  He speaks of the multitude of Indian villages on its shores, and still more on its northern branches.  “Each, great or small, has one or more English traders, and each of these has hired men to carry his furs.  Behold, then, the English well advanced upon our lands, and, what is worse, under the protection of a crowd of savages whom they have drawn over to them, and whose number increases daily.”

The course of the party lay up the Miami; and they toiled thirteen days against the shallow current before they reached a village of the Miami Indians, lately built at the mouth of the rivulet now called Loramie Creek.  Over it ruled a chief to whom the French had given the singular name of La Demoiselle, but whom the English, whose fast friend he was, called Old Britain.  The English traders who lived here had prudently withdrawn, leaving only two hired men in the place.  The object of Celoron was to induce the Demoiselle and his band to leave this new abode and return to their old villages near the French fort on the Maumee, where they would be safe from English