Crusaders of New France | Page 7

among them for
a further exploration of this inhospitable land. As there were not
enough men to handle all three of the ships, they abandoned one of
them, whose timbers were uncovered from the mudbank in 1843, more
than three centuries later. Before leaving Stadacona, however, Cartier
decided to take Donnacona, the head of the village, and several other
Indians as presents to the French King. It was natural enough that the
master-pilot should wish to bring his sovereign some impressive
souvenir from the new domains, yet this sort of treachery and
ingratitude was unpardonable. Donnacona and all these captives but
one little Indian maiden died in France, and his people did not readily
forget the lesson of European duplicity. By July the expedition was
back in the harbor of St. Malo, and Cartier was promptly at work
preparing for the King a journal of his experiences.
Cartier's account of his voyage which has come down to us contains
many interesting details concerning the topography and life of the new
land. The Malouin captain was a good navigator as seafaring went in
his day, a good judge of distance at sea, and a keen observer of
landmarks. But he was not a discriminating chronicler of those things
which we would now wish to understand--for example, the relationship
and status of the various Indian tribes with which he came into contact.
All manner of Indian customs are superficially described, particularly
those which presented to the French the aspect of novelty, but we are
left altogether uncertain as to whether the Indians at Stadacona in
Cartier's time were of Huron or Iroquois or Algonquin stock. The
navigator did not describe with sufficient clearness, or with a due
differentiation of the important from the trivial, those things which
ethnologists would now like to know.
It must have been a disappointment not to be able to lay before the
King any promise of great mineral wealth to be found in the new
territory. While at Hochelaga Cartier had gleaned from the savages

some vague allusions to sources of silver and copper in the far
northwest, but that was all. He had not found a northern Eldorado, nor
had his quest of a new route to the Indies been a whit more fruitful.
Cartier had set out with this as his main motive, but had succeeded only
in finding that there was no such route by way of the St. Lawrence.
Though the King was much interested in his recital of courage and
hardships, he was not fired with zeal for spending good money in the
immediate equipping of another expedition to these inhospitable
shores.
Not for five years after his return in 1536, therefore, did Cartier again
set out for the St. Lawrence. This time his sponsor was the Sieur de
Roberval, a nobleman of Picardy, who had acquired an ambition to
colonize a portion of the new territory and who had obtained the royal
endorsement of his scheme. The royal patronage was not difficult to
obtain when no funds were sought. Accordingly in 1540 Roberval, who
was duly appointed viceroy of the country, enlisted the assistance of
Cartier in carrying out his plans. It was arranged that Cartier with three
ships should sail from St. Malo in the spring of 1541, while Roberval's
part of the expedition should set forth at the same time from Honfleur.
But when May arrived Roberval was not ready and Cartier's ships set
sail alone, with the understanding that Roberval would follow. Cartier
in due course reached Newfoundland, where for six weeks he awaited
his viceroy. At length, his patience exhausted, he determined to push on
alone to Stadacona, where he arrived toward the end of August. The
ships were unloaded and two of the vessels were sent back to France.
The rest of the expedition prepared to winter at Cap Rouge, a short
distance above the settlement. Once more Cartier made a short trip up
the river to Hochelaga, but with no important incidents, and here the
voyageur's journal comes to an end. He may have written more, but if
so the pages have never been found. Henceforth the evidence as to his
doings is less extensive and less reliable. On his return he and his band
seem to have passed the winter at Cap Rouge more comfortably than
the first hibernation six years before, for the French had now learned
the winter hygiene of the northern regions. The Indians, however, grew
steadily more hostile as the months went by, and Cartier, fearing that
his small following might not fare well in the event of a general assault,

deemed it wise to start for France when the river opened in the spring
of 1542.
Cartier set sail from Quebec in May. Taking the southern route through
the Gulf he