But he could not long remain quiet. The thirst for adventure was strong upon him, and, listening to the tales of his Indian visitors, he determined to explore the Ohio and the Mississippi to the "Vermilion Sea," or the Gulf of California, into which he was convinced the great river flowed. At his own expense he fitted out an expedition, and pushed boldly into the trackless wilderness.
This was the beginning of a career of hardship and danger, of successes achieved in the teeth of seemingly insurmountable obstacles and in spite of the plots of powerful enemies, with a steadfast fortitude unparalleled in the annals of discovery. La Salle's dream of reaching the Pacific was soon dispelled; but it was the nature of his mind to rear new plans on the ruins of the old. He never grew discouraged. In the presence of calamities which would have overwhelmed a less stout heart his brain was busy seeking new paths to the end he had in view.
At his first step he encountered the jealous hostility of the Jesuits, then powerful both at Quebec and Paris. To this was added the enmity of those interested in the fur trade, who feared that he would disturb their traffic; the hatred of all who had betrayed, deserted, and robbed him--no small number; and the annoyances of such as had been induced to invest in his schemes when his own resources were exhausted. While he was absent, bearing the flag of France over thousands of miles of new territory, slanderers and detractors were busy at home destroying his credit, thwarting his plans, ridiculing his hopes, and seeking to rob him of his honors. The obstacles cast in his path by nature or savage tribes were slight when compared with those reared against him by his own country men. But, unshaken in his purpose, he toiled on year after year, enduring exposure, hunger, cold, illness, and treachery, exploring the Ohio and the Illinois, and finally, in 1682, descending the Mississippi to its mouth.
This was his crowning exploit. He was now a man of middle age, inured to peril and hardship, and burdened with a heavy load of responsibility. He was stern, reserved, and self-reliant. There were few besides Tonti, his devoted lieutenant, upon whom he could rely. His followers were fickle savages or, worse still, the idle and insubordinate offscour of Europe. He had built and equipped a vessel on the lakes, and she had been sunk with her cargo. He had nearly finished another on the Illinois, when his men mutinied in his absence, and deserted. He had erected forts and planted colonies, which were destroyed or ordered abandoned by a hostile governor. He had been robbed again and again of the stores and supplies which he had transported at great cost into the wilderness, and of the furs which he sent back to Canada. At last he felt that if he was to secure for France the rich valley of the Mississippi and the boundless region drained by its tributaries, and repay his creditors through the monopoly of the trade which he hoped to establish there, he must secure the support of the King himself. Accordingly he turned toward France.