At half past three the next morning, we found ourselves at the entrance to Lake St. Clair, thirty miles from our evening repast. Owing to the dense fog and darkness, it was now necessary to await daylight, before attempting to cross. Daylight, which had been impatiently waited for, brought with it our old lake enemy, head winds, which made the most experienced men deem the passage impracticable. Counselled, however, rather by impatience than anything else, it was resolved on. Rain soon commenced, which appeared the signal for increased turbulence; but by dint of hard pushing in the men, with some help from our own hands, we succeeded in weathering Point Huron, the first point of shelter. The right hand shore then became a continued covert, and we successively saw point after point lessen in the distance. It was noon when we reached Grosse Point, the original place of our general embarkation on commencing the expedition; the rest of the voyage ran like a dream "when one awaketh," and we landed at the City of Detroit at half past three o'clock P. M.

Gov. Cass, and his equestrian party from Chicago, had preceded us thirteen days, as will be perceived from the following article from the weekly press of that city, of September 15, 1820, which embraces a comprehensive notice of the expedition; its route, the objects it accomplished, and the effects it may be expected to have on the leading interests and interior policy of the country, as well as the drawing forth of its resources.

EXPLORING EXPEDITION.
FROM THE DETROIT GAZETTE.

Last Friday evening, Governor Cass arrived here from Chicago, accompanied by Lieutenant M'Kay and Mr. R. A. Forsyth, [151] both of whom belonged to the expedition—all in good health.

We understand that the objects of the expedition have been successfully accomplished. The party has traversed 4,000 miles of this frontier since the last of May. Their route was from this place to Michilimackinac, and to the Sault of St. Mary's, where a treaty was concluded with the Chippewas for the cession of a tract of land, with a view to the establishment of a military post. They thence coasted the southern shore of Lake Superior to the Fond du Lac; ascended the St. Louis River to one of its sources, and descended a small tributary stream of Sandy Lake to the Mississippi. They then ascended this latter river to the Upper Red Cedar Lake, which may be considered as the principal source of the Mississippi, and which is the reservoir where the small streams forming that river unite. From this lake they descended between thirteen and fourteen hundred miles to Prairie du Chien, passing by the post of St. Peter's on the route. They then navigated the Ouisconsin to the portage, entered the Fox River, and descended it to Green Bay. Then the party separated, in order to obtain a topographical sketch of Lake Michigan. Some of them coasted the northern shore to Michilimackinac, and the others took the route by Chicago. From this point they will traverse the eastern shore of the lake to Michilimackinac, and may be expected here in the course of a week. Governor Cass returned from Chicago by land. A correct topographical delineation of this extensive frontier may now be expected from the accurate observations of Captain Douglass, who is fully competent to perform the task. We have heretofore remained in ignorance upon this subject, and very little has been added to the stock of geographical knowledge since the French possessed the country. We understand that all the existing maps are found to be very erroneous. The character, numbers, situation, and feelings of the Indians in those remote regions have been fully explored, and we trust that much valuable information upon these subjects will be communicated to the Government and to the public. We learn that the Indians are peaceable, but that the effect of the immense distribution of presents to them by the British authorities, at Malden and at Drummond's Island, has been evident upon their wishes and feelings through the whole route. Upon the establishment of our posts, and the judicious distribution of our small military force, must we rely, and not upon the disposition of the Indians. The important points of the country are now almost all occupied by our troops, and these points have been selected with great judgment. It is thought by the party, that the erection of a military work at the Saut is essential to our security in that quarter. It is the key of Lake Superior, and the Indians in its vicinity are more disaffected than any others upon the route. Their daily intercourse with Drummond's Island, leaves us no reason to doubt what are the means by which their feelings are excited and continued. The importance of this site, in a military point of view, has not escaped the observation of Mr. Calhoun, and it was for this purpose that a treaty was directed to be held. The report which he made to the House of Representatives, in January last, contains his views upon the subject.

We cannot but hope that no reduction will be made in the ranks of the army. It is by physical force alone, and by a proper display of it, that we must expect to keep within reasonable bounds, the ardent, restless, and discontented savages, by whom this whole country is filled and surrounded. Few persons living at a distance are aware of the means which are used, and too successfully used, by the British agents, to imbitter the minds of the Indians, and preserve such an influence over them as will insure their co-operation in the event of any future difficulties. A post at the Fond du Lac will, before long, be necessary, and it is now proper that one should be established at the portage between the Fox and Ouisconsin Rivers.

Mr. Schoolcraft has examined the geological structure of the country, and has explored, as far as practicable, its mineralogical treasures. We are happy to learn that this department could not have been confided to one more able or zealous to effect the objects connected with it. Extensive collections, illustrating the natural history of the country, have been made, and will add to the common stock of American science.

We understand that copper, iron, and lead are very abundant through the whole country, and that the great mass of copper upon the Outanagon River has been fully examined. Upon this, as well as upon other subjects, we hope we shall, in a few days, be able to communicate more detailed information.

[222]

CHAPTER XXI.

The search for the veritable source of the Mississippi is resumed.—Ascent to Cass Lake, the prior point of discovery—Pursue the river westerly, through the Andrúsian Lakes and up the Metoswa Rapids, forty-five miles—Queen Anne's Lake.

Twelve years elapse between the closing of the prior, and the opening of the present narrative. In the month of August, 1830, instructions were received by Mr. Schoolcraft to proceed into the Upper Mississippi valley, to endeavor to terminate the renewed hostilities existing between the Chippewa and Sioux tribes. These directions did not come to hand at the remote post of Sault de Ste. Marie, at the outlet of Lake Superior, in season to permit the object to be executed that year. On reporting the fact that the tribes would be dispersed to their hunting-grounds before the scene could be reached, and that severe weather would close the streams with ice before the expedition could possibly return, the plan was deferred till the next year. Renewed instructions were issued in the month of April, 1831, and an expedition organized at St. Mary's to carry them into immediate effect.

These instructions did not require the broad table-lands on which the river originates to be visited, though the journey connected itself with preliminary questions; nor was it found practicable to extend the geographical examinations, in the Mississippi Valley, beyond about latitude 44°.

The force designed for this expedition consisted of twenty-seven men, including a botanist and geologist, and a small military party under Lieut. Robert E. Clary, U. S. A. Entering Lake Superior, in the month of June, with a bright pure atmosphere and serene weather, the party enjoyed a succession of those clear transporting vistas of rock and water scenery, which render this picturesque basin by far the most magnificent, varied, and affluent in its prospect in America. It is in this basin only, of all the series of North American lakes which stretch west from the St. Lawrence, that peaks and high mural walls of volcanic formation, pierce through, or lift up, the horizontal series of the silurian system; and that, in the lake region, the latter is found in singular juxtaposition, by means of these upheavals, with the senites, sienitic granites, and metamorphic rocks composing the globe's nucleus, or primary out-pushed stony coats of these latitudes.

I had passed through this varied and wonder-creating scene of coast views and long-stretching vistas in 1820, when geology, in America, at least, was in its infancy, as a member of the organic government expedition into this quarter of the Union, as detailed in the preceding pages. I had, in 1826, revisited the whole coast from Point Iroquois to Fond du Lac, in the exercise of official duties, connected with the Indian tribes; besides making sectional expeditions into the regions of the Gargontwa and Mishepecotin, and of the Takwymenon sand-rock, interior, and coast lines. But the beauty of the prospects presented in 1831, the serenity of the weather, and the opportunity which it gave of revisiting scenes which had before flitted by, as the fragments of a gorgeous dream, gave to this visit a charm which no length of time can obliterate. And these attractions were enhanced by association with the agreeable men who accompanied me; of whom it may be said that they represented the place of strings in a melodious harp, whose concurrence was at all times necessary to produce harmony. The sainted and scene-loving Woolsey [152]—the self-poised and amiable Houghton, just broke loose from the initial struggles of life to luxuriate on the geological smiles of the face of nature in this scene—ah! where are they? Death has laid his cold hand on them, to open their eyes on other, and to us inscrutable scenes.

Passing through this lake, the expedition met the brigade of boats of the late Mr. Wm. Aitken, from the Upper Mississippi waters, with the annual returns of furs from that region. He represented the urgent necessity of an official visit to that section of the country, where the Indians were in turmoil; but stated, at the same time, that the waters were too low in the streams at the sources of the Mississippi to render explorations practicable. He also represented it impracticable, this season, to enter the Mississippi by the way of the Broulé, or Misakoda River. This information was confirmed on reaching Chegoimegon, at the remarkable group of the Confederation Islands (ante, p. 105). Returning eight miles on my track, I entered the Muskigo, or Mauvais River, and ascended this stream by all its bad rafts, rapids, and portages, to the upper waters of the River St. Croix of the Mississippi. Crossing the intermediate table-lands, with their intricate system of lakes and portages to Lac Courteroille, or Ottawa Lake, I entered one of the main sources of Chippewa River, and descended this prime tributary stream to its entrance into the Mississippi, at the foot of Lake Pepin. From the latter point I descended to Prairie du Chien, and to Galena in Illinois. Dispatching the men and canoes from this place back to ascend the Wisconsin River, and meet me at the portage of Fort Winnebago, I crossed the lead-mine country by land, by the way of the Pekatolica, Blue Mound, and Four Lakes, to the source of the Fox River, and rejoining my canoes here, descended this stream to Green Bay, and returned to my starting-point by the way of Michilimackinac and the Straits of St. Mary. Two months and twelve days were employed on the journey, during which a line of forests and Indian trails had been passed, of two thousand three hundred miles.

The Indians had been met, and counselled with at various points, at which presents and provisions were distributed, and the peace policy of the Government enforced. A Chippewa war party, under Ninaba, had been arrested on its march against the Sioux in descending the Red Cedar fork of the Chippewa River. Information was obtained that nine tribes or bands had united in their sympathies for the restless Sauks and Foxes, who broke out in hostility to the United States the following spring. Messages, with pipes and belts, and in one case notice, with a tomahawk smeared with vermilion, to symbolize war, had passed between these tribes. [153]

The information was communicated to the Government, with a suggestion that an expedition should be organized for visiting remoter regions the next year, and forwarding, at the same time, detailed estimates of the expenditures essential to its efficiency. These suggestions were approved by the Secretary of War on the 3d of May, 1832, and instructions forwarded to me for organizing an expedition to carry the reconnoissance and scrutiny to the tribes on the sources of the Mississippi. A small escort of U. S. infantry was ordered to accompany me, under Lieut. James Allen, U. S. A., who, being a graduate of the West Point Military Academy, undertook the departments of topography and trigonometry. I secured the services of Dr. Houghton, as physician and surgeon, and acting botanist and geologist—positions which he had occupied on the prior expedition of 1831. The American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions were invited to send an agent to observe the wants and condition of the Indian tribes in these remote latitudes; who directed the Rev. Wm. T. Boutwell to join me at St. Mary's. I charged myself especially with inquiring into the Indian history and languages, statistics, and general ethnography.

The expedition left the Sault de Ste. Marie on the 7th of June, taking the route through Lake Superior to Fond du Lac and the St. Louis River, and the Savanna Summit to Sandy Lake, which lies 500 miles above St. Anthony's Falls of the Upper Mississippi. The width of the Mississippi at the outlet of Sandy Lake, by a line stretched across, was found to be 331 feet. At my camp here, a general council was summoned of the lower tribes, who were notified to assemble at the mouth of the River Des Corbeau on the 20th of July; and a boat with presents and supplies was sent down the Mississippi to await the return of the expedition through that river. Lightened thus of baggage, and having fixed a point of time within which to finish the explorations above, I proceeded up the main channel of the river to, and across the Pakagama Falls, and its wide plateau of savannas, and through the Little and Great Winnipek Lakes, to the Upper Red Cedar, or Cass Lake, which we entered on the 10th of July. This is a fine lake of transparent water, about eighteen miles in length, with several large bays and islands as denoted in the accompanying sketch, which give it an irregular shape. The largest island, called Grande Isle by the French, which is the Gitchiminis of the Indians, and the Colcaspi [154] of my initial narrative of 1832. This lake was the terminus of the respective explorations of Lieutenant Zebulon Pike, U. S. A., in 1806, and Governor Lewis Cass in 1820. The points at which they approached it were not, however, the same. Pike visited it in a dog train, on the snow, in the month of January, across the land, from the Northwest Company's trading post at Leech Lake. He visited an out-station of that company on Grand Island. Cass landed in July, after tracing its channel from Sandy Lake to the entrance of Turtle River, the line of communication to Turtle Lake, which was long the reputed source of the river. This has been called by a modern traveller in the region Lake Julia, that he might call it the Julian source of the Mississippi. [155]

I found the Mississippi, at the point where it flows from the lake, to be 172 feet wide, not having lost half the width it had at Sandy Lake, although in this distance it is diminished by the volume of its Leech Lake tributary, which the northwest agents informed Lieutenant Pike, in 1806, to be its largest tributary. I had reached it ten days earlier in the season than Governor Cass, having been exactly one day less in traversing the long line of intervening country from Sault de Ste. Marie. I proceeded directly to Grand Isle, the residence of a Chippewa band numbering 157 persons. This island was found to have a fertile soil, where they had always raised the zea maize. Its latitude is 47° 25´ 23´´. Not only had I reached this point ten days earlier in the month than the expedition of 1820, but it was found that the state of the water on these summits was very favorable to their ascent. Ozawindib, [156] the Chippewa chief, said that his hunting-grounds embraced the source of the Mississippi, but that canoes of the size and burden which I had could not ascend higher than the Pemidjegumaug, or Queen Anne's Lake. I determined to encamp my extra men permanently on this island, with the heavy canoes, provisions, and baggage, leaving the camp in charge of Louis Default, a trusty man, of the metif class, well acquainted with the Indian language, who had been a guide in 1820, and to make explorations, in the lightest class of Indian canoes, provisioned for an _élite_ movement. Lieutenant Allen also determined to encamp the United States soldiers of the party, leaving them under a sergeant. To give each gentleman of the party an opportunity of joining in this movement, it was necessary to procure five hunting canoes, which were of no greater capacity than to bear one sitter [157] and two paddlers.

Ozawindib and his companions produced these canoes at an early hour on the following morning, and having, at my request, drawn a map of the route, embarked himself as the guide to the party. We left the island before it was yet daylight. The party now consisted of sixteen persons, including three Chippewas and eight engagees. The Mississippi enters this lake through a savanna, on its extreme western borders, after performing one of those evolutions through meadow lands so common to its lower latitudes; after reaching to within fifty yards of the lake, it winds about, through a natural meadow, for many miles before its debouchure. The chief, who was familiar with this feature, carried me to a fifty yards portage, by which we saved some miles of paddling. We reached the Mississippi at a place where it expands into an elongated lake, for which I heard no name, and which I called Lake Andrúsia. [158] After passing through this, the river appeared very much in size and volume as it had on the outlet below Cass Lake. It winds its way through the same species of natural meadows, during which there is but little current. On ascending this channel but a short distance, the river is found to display itself in a second lake—which the natives call Pamitascodiac [159]—which, in general appearance and character, may be deemed the twin of Lake Andrúsia. On its upper margin, a tract of prairie land appears, of a sandy character, bearing scattered pines. This appears to be the particular feature alluded to by the Indian name. About four miles above this lake, and say fifteen from Cass Lake, the rapids commence. It was eight o'clock A. M. when we reached this point, and we had then been four hours in our canoes from the Andrúsia portage. These rapids soon proved themselves to be formidable. Boulders of the geological drift period are frequently encountered in ascending them, and the river spreads itself over so considerable a surface that it became necessary for the bowsmen and steersmen to get out into the shallows and lead up the canoes. These canoes were but of two fathoms length, drew but a few inches water, and would not bear more than three persons. It was ten o'clock when we landed, on a dry opening on the right shore, to boil our kettle, and prepare breakfast. So dry, indeed, was the vegetation here, that the camp-fire spread in the grass and leaves, and it required some activity in the men to prevent its burning the baggage. There were ten of these rapids encountered before we reached the summit, or plateau, of Lake Pemidjegumaug, which is the Lac Traverse of the French. These were called the Metóswa rapids, from the Indian numeral for ten.

The term Lac Traverse has been repeated several times by the Canadian French, in our northwestern geography; being prominently known in the Upper Mississippi for a handsome sheet of water, connecting the St. Peter's, or Minnesota River, with Red River of Hudson's Bay; and as the Indian name, though very graphic, is not euphonious, I named it Queen Anne's Lake. [160] It is a clear and beautiful sheet of water, twelve miles in length, from east to west, and six or seven broad, with an open forest of hard wood. It is distant forty-five miles from Cass Lake, and lies at an elevation of fifty-four feet above that lake, and of 1,456 feet above the Gulf of Mexico. The latitude is 47° 28´ 46´´. The peculiarity recognized by the Indian name of Pemidjegumaug, or Crosswater, is found to consist in the entrance of the Mississippi into its extreme south end, and its passage through or across part of it, at a short distance from the point of entrance. Another feature of its topography consists of its connection, by a lively channel of less than a mile's length, with another transverse lake of pure waters, to which I applied the name of Washington Irving. These features are shown by the subjoined sketch.

1. Queen Anne's Lake.
2. Washington Irving's Lake.
3. Mississippi River.

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CHAPTER XXII.

Ascent of the Mississippi above Queen Anne's Lake—Reach the primary forks of the river—Ascend the left-hand, or minor branch—Lake Irving—Lake Marquette—Lake La Salle—Lake Plantagenet—Encamp at the Naiwa rapids at the base of the Height of Land, or Itasca Summit.

A short halt was made on entering Queen Anne's Lake, to examine an object of Indian superstition on its east shore. This consisted of one of those water-worn boulders which assume the shape of a rude image, and to which the Chippewas apply the name Shingabawassin, or image-stone. Nothing artificial appeared about it, except a ring of paint, of some ochreous matter, around the fancied neck of the image. [161] We were an hour in crossing the lake southwardly from this point, which would give a mean rate of five miles. At the point of landing, stood a small, deserted, long building, which Ozawindib informed me had been used as a minor winter trading station. I observed on the beach at this spot some small species of unios, and, at higher points on the shore, helices. We here noticed the passenger pigeon. The forest exhibited the elm, soft maple, and white ash. Proceeding directly south from this spot a short distance, we entered the Mississippi, which was found to flow in with a broad channel and rapid current. This channel Lieutenant Allen estimated to be but one hundred yards long, at which distance we entered into a beautiful little lake of pellucid water and a picturesque margin, spreading transversely to our track, to which I gave the name of Irving. Ozawindib held his way directly south through this body of water, striking the river again on its opposite shore. We had proceeded but half a mile above this lake, when it was announced that we had reached the primary forks of the Mississippi. We were now in latitude 47° 28´ 46´´. Up to this point, the river had carried its characteristics in a remarkable manner. Of the two primary streams before us, the one flowing from the west, or the Itascan fork, contributes by far the largest volume of water, possessing the greatest velocity and breadth of current. The two streams enter each other at an acute angle, which varies but little from due south, as denoted in the diagram.

Primary forks of the Mississippi River, in lat. 47° 28´ 46´´.

Ozawindib hesitated not a moment which branch to ascend, but shooting his canoe out of the stronger current of the Itascan fork, entered the other. His wisdom in this movement was soon apparent. He had not only entered the shallower and stiller branch, but one that led more directly to the base of the ultimate summit of Itasca. This stream soon narrowed to twenty feet. We could distinctly descry the moving sands at its bottom; but its diminished velocity was apparent from the intrusion of aquatic plants along its shores. It was manifest also from the forest vegetation, that we were advancing into regions of a more alpine flora. The branches of the larches, spruce, and gray pines, were clothed with lichens and floating moss to their very tops, denoting an atmosphere of more than the ordinary humidity. Clumps of gray willows skirted the margin of the stream.

It was found that the river had made its utmost northing in Queen Anne's Lake. From the exit from that point, the course was nearly due south, and from this moment to our arrival at the ultimate forks, which cannot exceed a mile and a half or two miles, it was evident why the actual source of this celebrated river had so long eluded scrutiny. We were ascending at every curve so far south, as to carry the observer out of every old line of travel or commerce in the fur trade (the sole interest here), and into a remote elevated region, which is never visited indeed, except by Indian hunters, and is never crossed, even by them, to visit the waters of the Red River—the region in immediate juxtaposition north. This semi Alpine plateau, or height of land for which we were now pushing directly, is called in the parlance of the fur trade Hauteurs de Terre. It was evident that we were ascending to this continental plateau by steps, denoted by a series of rapids, presenting step by step, in regular succession, widespread areas of flat surface spotted with almost innumerable lakes, small and large, and rice-ponds and lagoons. Thus, after surmounting the step of the Packagama Falls, we enter on a wide and far stretching plateau which embraces the great area of Leech Lake, and its numerous lacustrine beds. This step or plateau may, in the descending order of the Mississippi, be called the fifth plateau, and is, by barometrical observation, 1,356 feet above the Gulf of Mexico. The next, or fourth step, is that of the plateau of Cass Lake, caused chiefly by the lively waters of the Leech Lake, the Upper Red Cedar, and the Winnepek outlets. The Cass Lake level extends west of this lake to the foot of the Metoswa rapids. This is forty-six feet above the Leech Lake level. The third plateau, on which the Mississippi spreads itself, is that of the Queen Anne summit, which is elevated by the Metoswa rapids sixty-four feet above the former. We had now entered on this third plateau, on which we found the river flowing with a just perceptible current, and frequently expanding itself in small lakes. On the first of these, after ascending the left hand, or minor fork, I bestowed the name of Marquette; and on the second, that of La Salle. We proceeded beyond these to a third lake of larger dimension, which the Chippewas call Kubba-Kunna, or the Rest in the Path, being the site of crossing of one of their noted land-trails; I named it Lake Plantagenet. Lt. Allen deemed this lake ten miles long and five wide. At a point a short distance above the head of this lake, we encamped at a late hour. It was now seven o'clock P. M., and we had been in our canoes sixteen hours, and travelled fifty-five miles. It was not easy to find ground dry enough to encamp on, and while we were searching for it, rain commenced. We had pushed through the ample borders of the Scirpus lacustris and other aquatic plants, to a point of willows, alders, and spruce and tamarack, with pinus banksiana in the distance. The ground was low and wet, the foot sinking into a carpet of green moss at every tread. The lower branches of the trees were dry and dead, exhibiting masses of flowing gray moss. Dampness, frigidity, and gloom marked the dreary spot, and when a camp fire had been kindled it threw its red glare around on strange masses of thickets and darkness, which might have well employed the pencil of a Michael Angelo. Tired and overwearied men are not, however, much given to the poetic on these occasions, and they addressed themselves at once to the pacification of that uneasy organ, the stomach. Travelling with men who strangely mix up two foreign languages, one falls insensibly into the same jargon habits, of which I convicted myself of a notable instance this evening. I had on landing and pushing into the forest, laid a green morocco portfolio on the branches of a little spruce, and could not find it. Kewau bemuasee, I said to one of the men, en petite chose ver, mittig onsing? Have you not seen a small green roll in a sapling? not recollecting that the middle clause of the sentence, though in regimen with the Ojibwa, could have only been construed by one familiar both with the Canadian French and the Algonquin. Such, however, proved to be the case, and he soon handed me the missing portfolio.

I observed, as the crews of the several canoes threw down their day's game before the cook, there was a species of duck, the anas canadensis, I think, which had a small unio attached to one of its mandibles, having been engaged in opening the shell at the moment it was shot. With every aid, however, from the tent and the tea-kettle, and our cook's art in spitting ducks, the night here, in a gloomy and damp thicket, just elevated above the line of the river flags, and quite in the range of the frogs and lizards, proved to be one of the most dreary and forlorn. It was felt that we were no longer on the open Mississippi, but were winding up a close and very serpentine tributary, nowhere over thirty feet wide, which unfolded itself in a savanna, or bog, bordered closely with lagoons and rice ponds. Indian sagacity, it was clear, had led Ozawindib up this tributary as the best, shortest, and easiest possible way of reaching to, and surmounting the Itasca plateau, but it required a perpetual use of hand, foot, paddle, and pole; nor was there a gleam of satisfaction to be found in anything but the most intense onward exertion. Besides, I had agreed to meet the Indians at the mouth of the Crow-Wing River on the 24th of July, and that engagement must be fulfilled.

At five o'clock the next morning (12th) we were on our feet, and resumed the ascent. The day was rainy and disagreeable. There was little strength of current, but quite a sufficient depth of water; the stream was excessively tortuous. Owing to the sudden bends, we often frightened up the same flocks of brant, ducks, and teals again and again, who did not appear to have been in times past much subjected to these intrusions. The flora of this valley appeared unfavorable. Dr. Houghton has reported a new species of malva and some five or six other species or varieties from the general region, but these have not, I think, been elaborately described. The localities of the known species of fauna might be marked by the occurrence, on this fork, of the cervus virginianus, which had not been seen after leaving the Sandy Lake summit till after getting above the primary forks, which flow from the south and west.

We toiled all day without intermission from daybreak till dark. The banks of the river are fringed with a species of coarse marshland grass. Clumps of willows fringe the stream. Rush and reed occupy spots favorable to their growth. The forest exhibits the larch, pine, and tamarack. Moss attaches itself to everything. Water-fowls seem alone to exult in their seclusion. After we had proceeded for an hour above Lake Plantagenet, an Indian in the advance canoe fired at and killed a deer. Although fairly shot, the animal ran several hundred yards. It then fell dead. The man who had killed it brought the carcass to the banks of the river. The dexterity with which he skinned and cut it up, excited admiration. He gave the moze, which I understood to mean the hide and feet, to my guide, Ozawindib. Signs of this animal were frequent along the stream. But we were impelled forward by higher objects than hunting. It was, indeed, geographical and scientific facts that we were hunting for. To trace to its source an important river, and to fix the actual point of its origin, furnished the mental stimulus which led us to care but little where we slept or what we ate.

When the usual hour for breakfast arrived, the banks of the river proved too marshy to land, and we continued on till a quarter past twelve P. M., before a convenient landing could be made. After this recruit to stomach and spirits, the men again pushed forward, threading the stream as it wound about in a savanna, seldom halting more than a few minutes at a time. Frequently, a shot was fired at the numerous water-fowl, so abundant on these waters. Sometimes a small unio or anadonta was picked up from the shores; occasionally a plant pulled up, for the botanical press. Nowhere was the water found too shallow for our canoes, which were only embarrassed at some points by the density of vegetable tissue. Rain showers were encountered during the whole of the day, the equilibrium of the atmosphere being disturbed by rolling, cumulous clouds, which often poured down their contents with little warning, and without, indeed, driving us from our canoes. For, on these occasions, where a fixed point is to be made, and the showers are not anticipated to be long or heavy, it is better to travel in the rain and submit to the wetting, than to attempt landing. Neither can the meal of dinner be stopped for. At length, at half past five o'clock in the evening, we came to the base of the highlands of the Itasca or Hauteurs de Terre summit. The flanks of this elevation revealed themselves in a high, naked precipice of the drift and boulder stratum, on the immediate margin of the stream which washed against it. Our pilot, Ozawindib, was at the moment in the rear; halting a few moments for him to come up, he said that we were within a few hundred yards of the Naiwa rapids, and that the portage around them commenced at this escarpment. We had seen no rock of any species, in place, thus far.

A general landing was immediately made at the foot of the hill, and as the five canoes came up the baggage was prepared in bundles and packages for being carried, the canoe-paddles and poles securely tied in bundles, and the canoes lifted from the water and dried in the sun to make the transportation of them as light as possible, and mended and pitched wherever they leaked. It was found that the whole baggage, canoes and all, could be arranged for eleven back-loads, this being the precise number of our carriers, white and red; and being ready, Ozawindib led the way, having a single canoe for his share, and he was soon followed by the whole line, each one of our sitters falling in this line, charged with the particular instrument of his observation, or record of it. The hill was steep, and the footing soft and yielding in the crumbling diluvion, and the scene, as the party struggled up the ascent, presented quite a study for the picturesque. Lieutenant Allen carried his canoe-compass, which I had had mounted by an artisan of Detroit; Dr. Houghton grasped his hortus siccus under his arms; Mr. Johnston, our interpreter, had his pipe and fowling-piece, and Mr. Boutwell had wellnigh lost his pocket-bible and notes, while staying himself against the treacherous influence of a steep sand cliff. While the party thus took their way over the hill to cross a peninsula of a mile or two, and strike the river above the junction of the Naiwa River, I went to observe the rapids. The river, at this point, is forced through a narrow gorge, where the water descends with loud murmuring over a series of rapids, which form a complete check to navigation. The portage is two miles. I judged the entire descent of the channel, from the beginning to the terminus of the portage, to be forty-eight feet. Boulders of the peculiar northern sienite, highly charged with hornblende, and of trap-rock, or greenstone, quartz, and sandstone, were scattered over this elevation, and mixed with the more finely comminuted portions of the same rocks, and of amygdaloids and schistose fragments. Among these, I observed some specimens of the zoned agate, which identifies the stratum with the extensive drift formation of the upper Mississippi. It would seem that extensive amygdaloidal strata formerly extended over these heights, which have been broken down by the fierce and general rush of the oceanic currents of the north, which once manifestly swept over these elevations.

Darkness fell as we reached an elevation overlooking the river above the Naiwa Rapids, and after some deliberation as to the spot where we should suffer less annoyance from mosquitos, I proceeded to the lower part of the valley near the river, and set up my tent there for the night. On questioning Ozawindib of the Naiwa River, he informed me that it was a stream of considerable size, and that it originated in a lake on a distant part of the plateau, which was infested with the copper-head snake; hence the name. Mr. Allen's estimate of this day's journey was fifty-two miles. We had reached the second, or Assawa plateau of the Mississippi, which is, barometrically, seventy-six feet above the Queen Anne summit, and now had but one more to surmount.

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CHAPTER XXIII.

The Expedition having reached the source of the east fork in Assawa Lake, crosses the highlands of the Hauteurs de Terre to the source of the main or west fork in Itasca Lake.

The next morning (13th) a dense fog prevailed. We had found the atmosphere warm, but charged with water and vapors, which frequently condensed into showers. The evenings and nights were, however, cool, at the precise time of the earth hiding the sun's disk. It was five o'clock before we could discern objects with sufficient distinctness to venture to embark. We found the channel of the river strikingly diminished on getting above the Naiwa. Its width is that of a mere brook, running in a valley half a mile wide. The water is still and pond-like, the margin being encroached on by aquatic plants. It presents some areas of the zizania palustris, and appeared to be the favorite resort for several species of duck, who were continually disturbed by our progress. After diligently ascending an hour and a half, or about eight miles, the stream almost imperceptibly began to open into a lake, which the Indians called Assawa, or Perch Lake. Its borders are fringed with the monomin of the Chippewas, or wild rice, and several of the liliaceous water plants. The water is transparent when dipped up and viewed by the light, but from the falling of leaves and other carbonaceous fibre to the bottom, it reflects a sombre hue. We were just twenty minutes in passing through it, denoting a length of perhaps two miles, and a width of half a mile. Our course through it was directly south. Ozawindib, who took the advance, entered an inlet, but had not ascended it far, when he rested on his paddles, and exclaimed o-omah mekunnah, here is the path, or portage. We had, in fact, traced this branch of the river into its utmost sources. It was seven o'clock in the morning. We were surrounded by what the natives term azhiskee, or mire, broad-leaved plants extending over the surface of the water, in which I recognized a diminutive species of yellow pond-lily. There was no mode of reaching dry land but by stepping into this yielding azhiskee. The water was rather tepid. After wading about fifty yards the footing became more firm, and we soon began to ascend a slight elevation. Some traces of an Indian trail appeared here, which led to an opening in the thicket, where vestiges of the bones of birds, and old camp-poles, indicated the prior encampment of Indians.

I had now traced this branch of the Mississippi to its source, and was at the south base of the inter-continental highlands, which give origin to the longest and principal branch of the Mississippi. To reach its source it was necessary to ascend and cross these. Of their height, and the difficulty of their ascent, we knew nothing. This only was sure, from the representation of the natives, that it could be readily done, carrying the small bark canoes we had thus far employed. The chief said it was thirteen opugidjiwenun, or putting-down-places, which are otherwise called onwaybees, or rests. From the roughness of the path, not more than half a mile can be estimated to each onwaybee. Assawa Lake is shown, by barometric measurement, to be 1,532 feet above the Gulf. Having followed out this branch to its source, its very existence in our geography becomes a new fact.

While the baggage and canoes were being carried to the spot of our encampment, a camp-fire was kindled and the cook busied himself in preparing breakfast. The canoes were then carefully examined and repaired, and the baggage parted into loads, so as to permit the whole outfit and apparatus to be transported at one trip. These things having been arranged, and the breakfast dispatched, we set forward to mount the highlands. Ozawindib having thrown one of the canoes over his shoulders, led the way, complaisantly, being followed by the entire party.

The prevailing growth at this place is thick bramble, spruce, white cedar, and tamarak. The path plunges at once into a marshy and matted thicket, which it requires all one's strength to press through—then rises to a little elevation covered with white cedar, and again plunges into a morass strewed with fallen and decayed logs, covered with moss. From this the trail emerges on dry ground. Relieved from the entanglement about our feet, we soon found ourselves ascending an elevation of the drift stratum, consisting of oceanic sand, with boulders. On the side of this eminence we enjoyed our first onwaybee. The day had developed itself clear and warm, and glad indeed were we to find the chief had put down his canoe, and by the time we reached had lit his pipe. The second onwaybee brought us to the summit of this elevation; the third to the side of a ridge beyond it; the fourth to another summit; in fine, we found ourselves crossing a succession of ridges and depressions, which seemed to have owed their original outlines to the tumultuous waves of some mighty ocean, which had once had the mastery over the highlands. Trail there was often none. The day being clear, the chief, however, held his course truly, and when he was turned out of it by some defile, or thicket, or bog, he again found his line at the earliest possible point. In one of the depressions, we crossed a little lake in the canoes; in another, we followed the guide on foot, through and along the border of a shallow lake, to avoid the density of the thickets.

Ripe strawberries were brought to me at one of our onwaybees. I observed the diminutive rebus nutkanus on low grounds. The common falco was noticed, and the Indians remarked tracks of the deer, not, however, of very recent date. The forest growth is small, by far the most common species being the scrubby pinus banksianus, exhibiting its parasitic moss. The elevated parts of the route were sufficiently open, with often steep ascents. Over these sienite and granite, quartz and sandstone boulders were scattered. Every step we made in crossing these sandy and diluvial elevations, seemed to inspire renewed ardor in completing the traverse. The guide had called the distance, as we computed it, about six, or six and a half miles. We had been four hours upon it, now clambering up steeps, and now brushing through thickets, when he told us we were ascending the last elevation, and I kept close to his heels, soon outwent him on the trail, and got the first glimpse of the glittering nymph we had been pursuing. On reaching the summit this wish was gratified. At a depression of perhaps a hundred feet below, cradled among the hills, the lake spread out its elongated volume, presenting a scene of no common picturesqueness and rural beauty. In a short time I stood on its border, the whole cortege of canoes and pedestrians following; and as each one came he deposited his burden on a little open plat, which constituted the terminus of the Indian trail. In a few moments a little fire threw up its blaze, and the pan of pigieu, or pine pitch, was heated to mend the seams of the bark canoes. When this was done, they were instantly put into the lake, with their appropriate baggage; and the little flotilla of five canoes was soon in motion, passing down one of the most tranquil and pure sheets of water of which it is possible to conceive. There was not a breath of wind. We often rested to behold the scene. It is not a lake overhung by rocks. Not a precipice is in sight, or a stone, save the pebbles and boulders of the drift era, which are scattered on the beach. The water-fowl, whom we disturbed in their seclusion, seemed rather loath to fly up. At one point we observed a deer, standing in the water, and stooping down, apparently to eat moss.

The diluvial hills inclosing the basin, at distances of one or two miles, are covered with pines. From these elevations the lands slope gently down to the water's edge, which is fringed with a mixed foliage of deciduous and evergreen species. After passing some few miles down its longest arm, we landed at an island, which appeared to be the only one in the lake. I immediately had my tent pitched, and while the cook exerted his skill to prepare a meal, scrutinized its shores for crustacea, while Dr. Houghton sought to identify its plants. While here, the latter recognized the mycrostylis ophioglossoides, physalis lanceolata, silene antirrhina, and viola pedata. We found the elm, lynn, soft maple, and wild cherry, mingled with the fir species.

An arm of the lake stretches immediately south from this island, which receives a small brook. Lieutenant Allen, who estimates the greatest length of the lake at seven miles, drew the following sketch of its configuration. (See p. 243.)

The latitude of this lake is 47° 13´ 35´´. [162] The highest grounds passed over by us, in our transit from the Assowa Lake, lie at an elevation of 1,695 feet. The view given of the scene in the first volume of my Ethnological Researches, p. 146, is taken from a point north of the island, looking into the vista of the south arm of the lake. I inquired of Ozawindib the Indian name of this lake; he replied Omushkös, which is the Chippewa name of the Elk. [163] Having previously got an inkling of some of their mythological and necromantic notions of the origin and mutations of the country, which permitted the use of a female name for it, I denominated it Itasca. [164]