The daring travelers now came to a place where high rocks reached up from the banks. Strange figures were carved on the rocks. They were painted in fearful colors. They had red eyes and long beards. They had bodies like fishes. They were ugly to look at. These must be the monsters the white men had heard so much about. They were only pictures of monsters, however, and not real ones. Yet the Indians all along the river were afraid of them. Whenever the Red Men had to pass the place, they offered prayers to these hideous figures. On went the white men, and still on. The river was growing wider all the time. At last they came to a place where the Indians were savage and unfriendly. The travelers learned that cruel Spaniards were not far away. After Ponce de Leon discovered Florida the Spaniards had claimed that country. They settled there as well as in other parts of the south. They had some villages near the lower part of the Mississippi. Savage Indians and cruel Spaniards together made the danger too great for the travelers. "We should only be made prisoners. Then we could not go back and tell our friends about the wonderful river." That is what the good priest said to his friend. It was too bad, for they were told it would take only five days more to reach the mouth of the river. They had made a wonderful voyage already, so they turned about and started homeward. Storms and cold weather now troubled them. They were weak and half sick long before home was in sight. The gentle priest was at last too ill to travel any farther. He stopped with some friendly Indians while Joliet went on to Canada. Everyone was filled with delight on hearing about the great river. "It will belong to France, because Frenchmen have discovered it," they said. Cannons were fired and bells were rung in the city. It was a time of gladness. Poor Father Marquette was sick for a whole year. Indeed, he was never entirely well afterwards. He stayed among his Indian friends and taught them till he died. They loved him very much and waited upon the sick priest with the most tender care. "But this is not the whole story of 'The Father of Waters,'" said Uncle Sam when he came to the death of Marquette. "There was another brave Frenchman who followed in the path of the priest. I know you will like to hear about him." The children nodded their heads and Uncle Sam began THE STORY OF LA SALLE Once upon a time there was a brave young man named Robert La Salle. He lived in France. He was always ready for some new adventure. While he was still young he thought: "I will join my countrymen in Canada and see something of their strange life among the Indians." He was soon busy among the fur traders along the St. Lawrence River and the great lakes. A piece of land was given to him and he began to build a fort. He was proud that the French people held Canada. He wished to do his part in making it strong so that all enemies could be kept out.