There is a little island, called Isle des Iroquois, just off the foot of the American cape, which is a noted stopping-place for boat and canoe voyagers. On passing this spot, the lake spreads out like a sea. Towards the north, can be seen on the horizon the blue peaks of distant mountains. Southerly, the Point Iroquois formation of sandstone appears skirting the shore, at several miles distance. At the computed distance of fifteen miles, we passed the mouth of the Taquimenon River. It was already evening when we came here, but we were far out from shore, and the guides thought best to keep on their course a league farther, which brought us, at 11 o'clock at night, into the mouth of the Onzig, or Shelldrake River. At this spot, we found an encampment of Chippewa Indians, who were friendly, and quite profuse in their salutation of bosho. At the moment we were ready to embark, the next morning, a brigade of traders' boats, on the route to Michilimackinac, was descried, coming in to the same point. This interview detained us till 8 o'clock. Within a league, we met eighteen or twenty Chippewa canoes on their journey towards the same point; and at the computed distance of three leagues from the Onzig, we reached, and turned the bleak shores of White-Fish Point, called Namikong [41] by the Indians. Thus far, we had been imbayed in an arm of the lake which embraces Parisian Island, another link of the sandstone formation; but here the lake, stretching westwardly, displays itself in all its magnificence. On the left, spreads a long line of sandy coast; on the right, an illimitable expanse of water, which was bounded only by the horizon. Beyond these features, there is not a prominent object to catch the eye. The magnificence which first pleases, at last tires. The change of course brought the wind ahead, and we were soon compelled to land on these bleak sandy wastes. While thus detained, an express canoe from St. Mary's reached us with letters. A couple of hours were employed in dispatching this canoe on its return; meantime the wind lulled, and we went on ten miles and encamped on the sands.
The next morning, we were again in motion at five o'clock. Twelve miles coasting along this unvaried shore, brought us to the mouth of a stream called Neezhoda, Seepe, [42] or Twin River, which is imprecisely called Two-Hearted River by the traders. The peculiarity of this stream consists in the union of two separate rivers, near the point of its outlet. Seven leagues beyond this spot brought us to the inlet called Grande Marais. Immediately west of this begins an elevated naked coast of sand-dunes, called Gitche Nägow, [43] or La Grande Sables. To comprehend the geology of this coast, it is necessary to state that it consists of several heavy strata of the drift era, reaching a height of two or three hundred feet, with a precipitous front on the lake. The sands driven up by the lake are blown over these heights, forming a heavy deposit. It is this sandy deposit, falling down the face of the precipice, that appears to convert the whole formation into dunes, whereon the sandy coating rests, like a veil, over the pebble and clay-drift. Their desert and Sahara-like appearance is quite impressive to the travellers who visit these coasts in boats or canoes. The number of rapacious birds which are observed about these heights, adds to the interest of the prospect. Dr. Wolcott, and some other members of the party who ascended the formation, reported a small lake on this elevation. The sands were observed, in some places, to be deposited over its vegetation so as to arrest its growth. The largest trees were often half buried and destroyed. Not less than nine miles of the coast, agreeably to voyageur estimates, are thus characterized by dunes.
I found the sandstone formation of Cape Iroquois to reappear at the western termination of these heights on the open shores of the lake, where I noticed imbedded nodules of granular gypsum. At this point, known to our men as La Pointe des Grandes Sables, we pitched our tents, at nightfall, under a very threatening state of the atmosphere. The winds soon blew furiously, followed by a heavy rain-storm—and sharp thunder and lightning ensued. Our line of tents stood on a gently rising beach, within fifty yards of the margin of the lake, where they were prostrated during the night by the violence of the waves. The rain still continued at early daylight, the waves dashing in long swells upon the shore. At sunrise the tempest abated, and by eight o'clock the atmosphere assumed a calm and delightful aspect. It was eleven o'clock, however, before the waves sufficiently subsided to permit embarkation. Indeed, a perfect calm now ensued. This calm proved very favorable—as we discovered on proceeding three leagues—to our passing the elevated coast of precipitous rock, called Ishpäbecä, [44] and Pictured Rocks. This coast, which extends twelve miles, consists of a gray sandstone, forming a series of perpendicular façades, which have been fretted, by the action of the waves, into the rude architecture of pillared masses, and open, cavernous arches. These caverns present their dark mouths to observation as the voyager passes. At one spot a small stream throws itself from the cliffs into the lake at one leap. In some instances the cliffs assume a castellated appearance. At the spot called the Doric Rock, near the commencement of these picturesque precipices, a vast entablature rests on two immense rude pillars of the water-worn mass. At a point called Le Portail, the vast wall of rock had been so completely excavated and undermined by the lake, that a series of heavy strata of rock rested solely on a single pillar standing in the lake. The day was fine as we passed these geological ruins, and we sat silently gazing on the changing panorama. At one or two points there are small streams which break the line of rock into quadrangles. A species of dark red clay overlies this formation, which has been carried by the rains over the face of the cliffs, where, uniting with the atmospheric sand and dust, it gives the whole line a pictorial appearance. We almost held our breath in passing the coast; and when, at night, we compared our observations around the camp-fire, there was no one who could recall such a scene of simple novelty and grandeur in any other part of the world; and all agreed that, if a storm should have arisen while we were passing, inevitable destruction must have been our lot. We came to Grand Island at a seasonable hour in the evening, and encamped on the margin of its deep and land-locked harbor. Our camp was soon filled with Chippewas from a neighboring village. They honored us in the evening by a dance. Among these dancers, we were impressed with the bearing of a young and graceful warrior, who was the survivor of a self-devoted war-party of thirteen men, who, having marched against their ancient enemies the Sioux, found themselves surrounded in the plain by superior numbers, and determined to sell their lives at the dearest rate. To this end, they dug holes in the earth, each of which thus becoming a fortification for its inmate, who dared their adversaries till overpowered by numbers. One person was selected to return with the news of this heroic sacrifice; this person had but recently returned, and it was from his lips that we heard the tragic story.
My mineralogical searches along the shores this day rewarded me with several water-worn fragments of agate, carnelian, zeolite, and prase, which gave me the first intimation of our approach to the trap and amygdaloidal strata, known to be so abundant in their mineral affluence in this quarter.
We left Grand Island the next morning at six o'clock, and passing through a group of sandstone islands, some of which had had their horizontality disturbed, we came to the mouth of Laughing-fish River, where a curious flux and reflux of water is maintained. From this place, a line of sandstone coast was passed, northwardly, till reaching its terminus on the bay of Chocolate River. This is a large and deep bay, which it would have required a day's travel to circumnavigate. To avoid this, the men held their way directly across it, steering N. 70° W., which, at the end of three leagues, brought us to Granite Point. Here we first struck the old crystalline rocks or primitive formation. This formation stretches from the north shores of the Gitche Sebeeng, [45] or