CHAPTER VI.
Chippewa village at the mouth of the Ontonagon—Organize an expedition to explore its mineralogy—Incidents of the trip—Rough nature of the country—Reach the copper rock—Misadventure—Kill a bear—Discoveries of copper—General remarks on the mineral affluence of the basin of Lake Superior.
A small Chippewa village, under the chieftainship of Tshwee-tshweesh-ke-wa, or the Plover, and Kundekund, the Net Buoy, was found on the west bank of the river, near its mouth, the chiefs and warriors of which received us in the most friendly manner. If not originally a people of a serene and placid temperament, they have been so long in habits of intercourse with the white race that they are quite familiar with their manners and customs, and mode of doing business. They appeared to regard the Canadian-Frenchmen of our party as if they were of their own mode of thinking, and, indeed, almost identical with themselves.
The Ontonagon River had, from the outset, formed an object of examination, from the early and continued reports of copper on its borders. It was determined to lose no time in examining it. Guides were furnished to conduct a party up the river to the locality of the large mass of this metal, known from early days. This being one of the peculiar duties of my appointment, I felt the deepest interest in its success, and took with me the apparatus I had brought for cutting the rock and securing proper specimens.
The party consisted of Governor Cass, Dr. Wolcott, Captain Douglass, Lieutenant Mackay, J. D. Doty, Esq., and myself. We embarked in two canoes, with their complement of men and guides. It was six o'clock, when, leaving the balance of the expedition encamped at the mouth of the river, east shore, we took our departure, in high spirits, for the copper regions. A broad river with a deep and gentle current, with a serpentine channel, and heavily wooded banks with their dark-green foliage overhanging the water, rendered the first few miles of the trip delightful. At the distance of four miles, we reached a sturgeon-fishery, formed by extending a weir across the river. This weir consists of upright and horizontal stakes and poles, along the latter of which the Indians move and balance themselves, having in their hands an iron hook on a pole, with which the fish are caught. We stopped a few moments to look at the process, received some of the fish drawn up during our stay, which are evidently the Acipenser oxyrinchus, and went on a couple of miles higher, where we encamped on a sandbar. Here we were welcomed, during the sombre hours off the night, with a pertinacity we could have well dispensed with, by the mosquitos.
We resumed the ascent at four o'clock in the morning. The river is still characterized for some miles by rich alluvial banks, bearing a dense forest of elm, maple, and walnut, with a luxuriant growth of underbrush. But it was soon perceived that the highlands close in upon it and narrow its channel, which murmurs over dangerous beds of rocks and stones. Almost imperceptibly, we found ourselves in an alpine region of a very rugged character. The first rapid water encountered had been at the Indian weir, on the 27th. These rapids, though presenting slight obstacles, became more frequent at higher points.