separated by a short channel, from a bay or lake of moderate dimensions, which is, from its proximity, considered a part of the main lake, although the current of the separating channel, indicates the latter to be rather a river than a strait. It will be convenient to refer to it, as it is from this point that the Mississippi, which has now been pursued to its utmost northing, is ascended directly south. About four miles above this bay, the Mississippi has its ultimate forks, being formed of an east and west branch, of which the west branch is decidedly the largest, and considerably the longest. Reasons indicated by our guide, induced him to conduct us up the east branch, which we soon found expanded into a small lake, denoted Marquette, and not far above, into another, denoted La Salle. We were twenty-four minutes in passing through the last, and on leaving it, found the stream strikingly diminished in volume, with a limited depth, and a vegetation of a more decidedly alpine character. About four miles above the latter, the stream expands into a lake some six or seven miles in length, and about half that distance in width. This lake, which is called Kubbakunna, The Rest in the Path, presented a pleasing aspect, after the sombre vegetation, we had passed below. Rushes, however, were abundant toward its head, and we found the ground too low and wet for encamping. After ascending the river, for a distance, we put ashore for the night, at a point of woods extending into the marsh-land, constituting the river margin. The soil at this place, appeared to be of the most frigid character. A carpet of moss covered it, which the foot sank deep into, at every step. The growth was exclusively small grey pine, with numerous dead branches below, and strikingly festooned with flowing moss. Nearer the margin of the river, alder, tamarack, and willow, occupied the soil. As night approached it commenced raining, which served to add to the natural gloom of the spot.
Notices of the natural history of the country, during this day’s journey are meagre. The principal growth of forest trees, out of the immediate valley, is pine. The plants appear to present little variety, and consist of species peculiar to moist, cold, or elevated situations. Water fowl are abundant, and were frequently shot. Among the number brought in from the different canoes, in the evenings, were the duck and mallard, wood-duck, and saw-bill. One of the latter species, had a unio firmly attached to its lower mandible, having been in the act of opening it when shot.
CHAPTER V.
Ascent of the east fork of the Mississippi, from Kubbakunna Lake to the Naiwa rapids.—Its productions.—Indians kill a deer; their mode of dissecting it.—Reach the foot of Naiwa rapids.—The Naiwa portage.—Copper-head snake.—Zoned agate.—Journey from thence to Ossowa Lake, the source of this branch of the Mississippi.—Mistake in the latitude.—Portage from the east to the west branch.—Hauteur des Terres.—The height of land between the Hudson’s Bay and Gulf of Mexico waters.—Geographical notices of its extent.—Its natural productions.—Its geology.—Arrival at Itasca Lake.
We resumed the ascent at five o’clock in the morning, (12th.) The course of this branch of the river, above the Kubbakunna Lake, resembles a thread wound across a savannah valley. A species of coarse marsh-land grass, covers the valley. Clumps of willow fringe this stream. Rushes and Indian reed are gathered in spots most favorable to their growth. The eye searches in vain, for much novelty in the vegetation. Wherever the stream touches the solid land, grey pine, and tamarack are conspicuous, and clumps of alder here take the place of willow. Moss attaches itself to almost every thing. And there is a degree of dampness and obscurity in the forest, which is almost peculiar to the region. Water fowl seem alone to exult in their seclusion, and evince the infrequency of intrusion by flying a short distance, and frequently alighting within gun-shot.
After we had gone on a little more than an hour, the Indian in the bow of the forward canoe, fired at, and killed a deer. We all landed to look at the animal. Although fairly shot through the fore part of the body, it ran several hundred yards before it fell. The Indian traced it by its blood, and found it quite dead. He brought it to the banks of the river, before skinning it. We stood in astonishment at the dexterity with which this operation was performed. In a very few minutes it was disrobed of its skin, quartered and dissected. The owner presented me the quarters. He gave the moze to our guide. This term comprehends all parts of the carcass except the four quarters, head and entrails. Nothing was, however, thrown away; and we had occasion, at night to observe, that the aid of fire enables them, with very little of the culinary art, to despatch those parts of the animal, which, it might be inferred, were most in need of preparation. Signs of this animal were frequently seen, and had the objects of the journey permitted delay, it might have been often killed.
Our progress through the savannahs, was rendered more unpleasant than it would otherwise have been, by frequent showers of rain, which gave, as is usual, a peculiar activity and virulence to the musquito. When the usual hour of landing for breakfast had arrived, the banks were too marshy to admit of it, and we went on until a quarter past twelve. We then again renewed a labor with little variety of incident.
At half past five we came to an elevated sand-hill on the right shore, covered with yellow pine, and presenting a naked face towards the river. As one of the canoes required mending, I directed the men to land at this spot, for that purpose. Oza Windib, who was a little in the rear, at the moment, said, on coming up, that we were within a few hundred yards of the junction of the Naiwa, the principal tributary of this fork; that a series of rapids commenced at that point, which would render it necessary to make a portage the whole extent of them, and that it was better to commence the portage at this place, as the river so ran, that we might go directly back through the forest, and strike its channel. He said that the Naiwa, which came in on the left, was a stream of considerable length, and originated in a lake which was infested by copper-head snakes, to which its name has reference. I observed that the soil at this place was of a diluvian character, and embraced pebbles, and small boulders of syenite, trap rock, and quartz, and other debris of primitive and secondary rocks. One of the party picked up a well characterised piece of zoned agate.
While the mending of the canoes was in progress, the baggage was put in portable order, and as soon as all was ready, the men moved on with the canoes and effects, which were so arranged that all could be carried at one load, and it did not require them to go back. This was a point originally kept in view, in the curtailment of the baggage at the island, and it was an object of the highest importance to the speed and success of the trip. Each canoe and its apparatus, with some of the lighter pieces was carried by one man. The guide led off the men, with no slight burden on his own shoulders, first scrambling up the sandy acclivity, and then striking through a growth of scrub oak and pines. The showers of the morning had so thoroughly wet the grass and shrubbery, that a few moments walking through it, was sufficient completely to saturate both pantaloons and stockings. I walked out a few hundred yards from the trail, towards the left which brought me into the curve of the river, in view of the rapids. There appeared to be a series of small rapids, with intervening shallows. The noise of falling water and the white wreaths of foam, induced me to think there might be distinct falls, but I could discern nothing entitled to the name. The average descent of the river, at this series of rapids, appeared to be, however, considerable, and might perhaps be estimated at forty-eight feet. I rejoined the party at the spot they had selected for their first pause, somewhat to their relief, probably, as guns had been fired by them, under the belief of my having missed the way. We first came in sight of the river again, on the brow of an elevated sand-hill, precipitous towards the water. The guide halted to inquire whether it would not be preferable to encamp at this spot, as we should suffer less from insects than if we encamped in the valley of the river, at the termination of the portage. As the day light was not gone, and some distance still remained, I deemed it better to go on, that we might have nothing to do in the morning, but to put our canoes in the water. On reaching the bank of the stream, we found its current placid, and our guide informed us that we had now surmounted the last rapids.
A fog prevented our embarking until five o’clock in the morning, (13th) and it was then impossible to discern objects at a distance. We found the channel above the Naiwa, diminished to a clever brook, more decidedly marshy in the character of its shores, but not presenting in its plants or trees, any thing particularly to