Washington was as hospitably entertained at the fort as if he had been a friend. In that remote frontier station, buried in the glooms of the wilderness, and with no society but that of rude soldiers and uncouth savages, a French officer, who was almost of necessity a gentleman of rank and refinement, must have enjoyed most highly a visit from an American of cultivated mind and polished manners. There was no opportunity to conceal anything of the strength of the French works from the English party, even if it had been deemed desirable to do so. Washington drew up an accurate plan of the fort, either secretly or by permission, which he sent to the British Government.[20] The reply which St. Pierre returned was obviously the only one which, as a servant of the crown, he could make. This must have been known as distinctly before the reply was given as afterward. And it certainly did not require a journey of more than twelve hundred miles, going and returning, through the wilderness, to learn that, if the French were to relinquish their claims to the valley of the Ohio, they must either be driven from it by force, or be persuaded to it by diplomatic conference at the court of Versailles. The main object of the mission was however accomplished. A feasible route for a military force, over the mountains, was discovered, and the strength of the French garrisons, in those quarters, was ascertained. Washington was surprised in seeing with how much unexpected strength the French were intrenching themselves, that they might hold possessions which they deemed so valuable. After a very friendly visit of two days, M. de St. Pierre, who had treated his guest with much hospitality, furnished him with a strong canoe, in which he could rapidly descend the St. Francis to the Alleghany, and that stream to the Ohio. Mr. Sparks writes:[21] “He had been entertained with great politeness. Nor did the complaisance of M. de St. Pierre exhaust itself in mere forms of civility. The canoe, by his order, was plentifully stocked with provisions, liquors, and every other supply that could be wanted.” The voyage down the winding stream to an Indian village, where Venango now stands, a distance of one hundred and thirty miles, was full of peril and suffering. The stream, swollen by wintry rains, was in some places a roaring torrent. Again it broke over rocks, or was encumbered by rafts of drifting timber, around which the canoe and all its freight had to be carried. Several times all had to leap into the icy water, to rescue the buoyant and fragile boat from impending destruction. At one place they carried the canoe over a neck of land a quarter mile in extent.