St. Anthony’s Falls, may be considered as the termination of this tract. Above this point, although the Mississippi has some rich alluvions, as at the mouth of Sandy Lake River, its vegetation assumes generally an alpine character, and a large portion of the wide area of its valley, is traversed by pine ridges, with innumerable intervening lakes, and extensive tracts of, what the natives denominate, mushkeegs.
On crossing through the forty-fifth parallel of latitude, the Mississippi exhibits a change in the materials of its banks preparatory to its entering the limestone region. This is first rendered strikingly visible on the rapids immediately above the Falls of St. Anthony. The fall itself is an imposing exhibition of geological scenery. The river here sinks its level about forty feet, in the distance of, say 1,500 yards.20 Sixteen feet of this has been estimated to consist of a perpendicular fall, reaching, with irregularities from shore to shore. Debris is accumulated in rude masses below, and the rapids are filled with fallen or rolled rocks which impart a character of wildness to the scene. We made a portage of 1,250 yards, having descended nearer to the brink of the fall than is common. Fort Snelling is situated at the estimate distance of nine miles below the falls, at the junction with the river St. Peter’s. It occupies a commanding position, and exercises it may be inferred, an important influence over the contiguous Indian tribes, and the Indian trade. We reached this post on the 24th of July. Capt. Jouett, the commanding officer, promptly afforded every facility for communicating the object of the visit to the Sioux, and requesting their concurrence, which was promised by the chiefs, in a council convened at the Agency House. We refer to the subjoined report for its results. No recent details of the progress of the Sauc war, had been received. Having accomplished the object we proceeded down the Mississippi, and reached the mouth of the St. Croix, at three o’clock in the afternoon of the 26th, five days before the decisive action of Gen. Atkinson with the combined Saucs and Foxes below.
The River St. Croix has one peculiarity, to distinguish it from all other American rivers. It has its source and its termination in a lake, and each of these bears the same name with itself. The lake at its mouth is not less than thirty miles in length, and is, probably, no where, much over a mile wide. Its banks are high and afford a series of picturesque views, which keep the eye constantly on the stretch. The country is an upland prairie, interspersed with groves and majestic eminences. The waters are beautifully transparent, and the margin exhibits a pebbly beach, so cleanly washed, that it would scarcely afford earth enough to stain the fairest shoe. If “Loch Katrine” presents a more attractive outline of sylvan coast, it must be beautiful indeed. We went up it, turning point after point, with the pleasure that novelty imparts, aided by the chanting of our canoe-men. We were in hourly expectation of reaching its head for our night encampment; but we saw the sun set, casting its golden hues and its deep shadows over the water, and going down in a gorgeous amphitheatre of fleecy clouds. The moon almost imperceptibly shone out, to supply its place, creating a scene of moonlight stillness, which was suited to fix a living impression of
“The silence that is in the starry sky,
The sleep that is among the lonely hills.”
Nothing could present a greater contrast, to the noisy scene of horses and horsemen, war and bloodshed, which, we were then unconscious, was about being acted, so near to us. We allude to the pursuit and destruction of the Black Hawk’s army.
We encamped at a late hour, near a lofty eminence, which exhibited on its summit, a number of small mounds or barrows strongly relieved by the moonlight, which shone across the eminence, and left us in the shade. We resumed our way again, before the hour of five in the morning, (27th) and were still something more than two hours in reaching the head of the lake. In going out of this beautiful sheet of water, we would revert to some traits in its natural productions which serve to distinguish it, as well as its prominent scenery, although there are none equally distinctive. The great carboniferous limestone formation,21 which fills the Mississippi valley, also reaches here, although there is now reason to believe that it reaches but little farther north. Its vegetation has little that is peculiar. The red cedar is found, hanging from some of its craggy shores on the lower part. Some fresh water shells, generally thin and small, with primary and lateral teeth wanting, characterize the sandy portions of its shore. There are some willow islands at the point where the River St. Croix enters it. And this point of the ingress of a large stream, presents the characteristics of what have been, not inaptly, called drowned lands, i. e. land bearing trees permanently standing in the water.
The St. Croix above this point exhibits the appearance of a wide, deep, ample river, with prominent banks, and forests of hard wood, and pine species. Its islands consist of rich alluvions, heavily timbered and subject to inundations. About two o’clock we passed the “Standing Cedars,” a point called so, in the treaty of limits between the Sioux and Chippewa tribes, and described in the inexact phraseology of the Indians, to be “about a day’s paddle, in a canoe, above the lake.” Howbeit, we were but a few minutes over nine hours, in performing the distance, with a strong crew of engagés, however, in light canoes, and with every appliance in pushing forward.
As evening approached, we encountered a man descending the river, having four canoes in company, with several Frenchmen and their Indian families. It turned out to be a Mr. B. who had been engaged in trade, in the Chippewa country. We examined his papers to determine whether he had been legally licensed, and caused a search of his canoes in quest of whiskey. None of this article, or strong drink of any kind was discovered. Little doubt had been felt, from information, which was not, however proved, of his having used this article in the course of his trade; whether with or without permission, could not be determined. We revoked his license for the unexpired part of the time specified in it, and permitted him to proceed out of the country, with the canoes and the very trifling property which he possessed, which seemed, indeed, to be essential to the mere subsistence of the numerous persons with him.
The narrowing of the valley, and increased rapidity of the current, had, for some time, admonished us of our approach to the falls. About six o’clock we entered through a defile, formed by perpendicular walls of rock on either shore. Its seamed and mossy surface did not permit us to determine its character, without getting a fresh fracture. It proved to be greenstone. We were in the midst of a formation of this rock, and for two hours, urged our way up rapids and swift channels, made by the broken and angular character of this stratum. We reached the foot of the falls, and encamped there at eight o’clock in the evening.
The word “falls,” as applied here, is but another name for impracticable rapids. The river tears its way through a vast bed of greenstone, whose black and square masses, stand on either side, and in the bed of the stream. Common quartz, imperfectly chrystalized, is seen in the mass, and is the sole mineral apparent, although a more attentive search may disclose others. A portage of four hundred yards is made to avoid the falls. But there is still a series of rapids, extending, with short interruptions, several miles above.
The physical character of this spot is such as to arrest a passing attention; but it is inferior to the moral interest arising out of it. It is the battle ground of Wahb Ojeeg, a celebrated Chippewa war chief of the last century, and testifies to an event in Indian tradition, which is not so remote as to be added to the events of the oblivious years of their residence upon this continent. We have neither time nor space to enter into details of this kind, and can merely advert to the incident we have named. Like most of the incidents of Indian warfare in the region, it is connected with the restless spirit, erratic adventure, and ambitious daring of the tribes who are, this season, (1832,) arrayed in hostility to the settlements on the Wisconsin. It is one of the links of the curious chain of history, of the Sauc and Fox tribes, who have fought their way from the St. Lawrence, thus far across the continent, and been successively embroiled, with each of the white powers, and, perhaps with some exceptions, with each of the Indian tribes of the north. They appear, by their language and traditions, to be Algonquins, and may be traced, as a starting point, to the north shores of Lake Ontario. They appear to have been driven thence for perfidy. They attacked the fort of Detroit, unsuccessfully. They lived long at, and gave name to Sagana. They went to the Fox River of Green Bay which is named after them, and here