Jolliet left Montreal in the autumn of 1672 and reached Michilimackinac, where he was to spend the winter with Marquette, just as the ice was forming on lake and river.  When he drew up his canoe in front of the palisaded mission at Point St Ignace, Marquette felt that his ambitions were about to be realized.  He was disappointed in his flock of Algonquins and the feeble remnant of Hurons, and he hoped to gather about him on the Great Plains—­of whose vegetation and game he had heard marvellous accounts—­a multitude of Indians who would welcome his Gospel message.  Dablon and Allouez had already touched the outskirts of this country, and their success was an earnest of great things in store.

The winter passed slowly for Marquette; but at length, on May 17, 1673, the explorer and the missionary with five assistants—­a feeble band to risk a plunge into the unknown—­launched their canoes and headed westward.

The explorers first shaped their course along the northern shore of Lake Michigan, then steered south-west until they reached the mouth of the Menominee river, flowing into Green Bay.  Here they rested for a brief period among friendly Menominees, who tried to persuade them to give up their venture.  According to the Menominees, the banks of the Mississippi were infested by savage tribes who tortured and slew all intruders into their domains.  As this did not seem sufficient to discourage Jolliet and Marquette, they added that demons haunted the land bordering the river and monsters the river itself, and that, even if they escaped savages, demons, and monsters, they would perish from the excessive heat of the country Both Jolliet and Marquette had heard such stories from Indians before.  Pressing on to the south end of Green Bay, they entered the Fox river and ascended it until they reached Lake Winnebago.  After crossing this lake they continued westward up the extension of the Fox.  They were now in the land of the Mascoutens and Miamis.  The country teemed with life; birds filled the air with whirr of wing and with song; as the voyagers paddled ever westward deer and elk came from their forest lairs to gaze with wondering eyes at these unfamiliar intruders on their haunts.  The Mascoutens were friendly, and supplied the travellers with bison flesh and venison, and with guides to direct them over the watershed to the Wisconsin.  They carried the canoes over a forest trail, and launched them on this river; and then with exulting hearts swept forward on the last stage of their journey to the Mississippi.  At length, on the 17th of June, they reached the great river and landed at the place where now stands Prairie du Chien.  They had the feeling of conquerors, but of conquerors whose greatest battle has yet to be fought.  Out of the far north came this mysterious river; but whither did it go?  Did these waters sweep onward till they lost themselves in the Pacific, or did they pour into some southern bay of the Atlantic?  Such were the questions