We had now reached above nine hundred and fifty miles from our starting-point at Detroit, and had been more than forty days in traversing the shores of Lakes Huron and Superior. July had already commenced, and no time was to be lost in reaching our extreme point of destination. Every exertion was therefore made to push ahead. By ten o'clock of the morning after our arrival at the Fond du Lac post, we embarked, and after going two miles reached the foot of the first rapids of the St. Louis. This spot is called the commencement of the Grand Portage—over this path all the goods, provisions, and canoes are to be carried by hand nine miles. During this distance, the St. Louis River, a stream of prime magnitude, bursts through the high trap range of what Bouchette calls the Cabotian Mountains, being a continuation of the upheavals of the north shore of Lake Superior, the river leaping and foaming, from crag to crag, in a manner which creates some of the most grand and picturesque views. We sometimes stood gazing at their precipices and falls, with admiration, and often heard their roar on our path, when we were miles away from them. Capt. Douglass estimated the river to fall one hundred and eight feet during the first nine miles; and from estimates furnished me by Dr. Wolcott, the aggregate fall from the mouth of the Savannè, to that point, is two hundred and twelve feet. We found the first part of the ascent of its banks very precipitous and difficult, particularly for the men who bore burdens, and what rendered the labor almost insupportable was the heat, which stood at 82°, in the shade, at noon. We made but five pauses the first day; and were three days on the portage. It rained the second day, which added much to the difficulty of our progress. We now found ourselves, at every step, advancing into a wild and rugged region. Everything around us wore the aspect of remoteness. Dark forests, swampy grounds, rocky precipices, and the distant roaring of the river, as it leapt from rock to rock, would have sufficiently impressed the mind with the presence of the wilderness, without heavy rains, miry paths, and the train of wild and picturesque Indians, who constituted a part of our carriers.
The rocks, at the foot of the portage, consisted of horizontal red sandstone. On reaching the head of it, we found argillite in a vertical position. I found the latter, in some places, pervaded by thin veins of quartz, and in one instance by grauwackke. At one spot there was a small vein of coarse graphite in the argillite. Large blocks of black crystallized hornblende rock lie along the shores, where we again reached the river, and are often seen on its bed, amid the swift-running water, but I did not observe this rock in place. Among the loose stones at the foot of the portage, I picked up a specimen of micaceous oxide of iron. Such are the gleams of its geology and mineralogy. The growth of the forest is pines, hemlock, spruce, birch, oak, and maple. In favorable situations, I observed the common red raspberry, ripe.
On embarking above the portage, the expedition occupied seven canoes, of a size most suitable for this species of navigation. Our Indian auxiliaries from Fond du Lac were here rewarded, and dismissed. On ascending six miles, we reached the Portage aux Coteaux, so called from the carrying path lying over a surface of vertical argillite. This rock, standing up in the bed, or on the banks of the stream, with a scanty overhanging foliage of cedar, gives a peculiarly wild and abrupt aspect to the scene; which is by no means lessened by the loud roaring of the waters. There is a fall and rapid at this portage, where the river, it may be estimated, sinks its level about fourteen feet.
We encamped at the head of this portage, where the water again permits the canoes to be put in. Thus far, we had found this stream a broad, flowing torrent, but owing to its rapids and rocks, anything but favorable to its navigation by boats, or canoes of heavy burden. His excellency Gov. Cass, therefore, determined to relieve the river party, by detaching a sub-expedition across the country to Sandy Lake. It was thought proper that I should accompany this party. It consisted, besides, of Lieut. Mackay, with eight soldiers, and of Mr. Doty, Mr. Trowbridge, and Mr. Chase. We were provided with an interpreter and two Chippewa guides, being sixteen persons in all.
Thus organized, we left the camp at the head of the portage, the following morning, at six o'clock. Each one carried provisions for five days, a knife, a musquito bar, and a blanket or cloak. There were a few guns taken, but generally this was thought to be an incumbrance, as we expected to see little game and to encounter a toilsome tramp. The guides, taking their course by the sun, struck west into a close forest of pine, hemlock, and underbrush, which required energy to push through. On travelling a couple of miles, we fell into an Indian path leading in the required direction; but this path, after passing through two ponds, and some marshes, eventually lost itself in swamps. These marshes, after following through them, about four miles, were succeeded by an elevated dry sandy barren, with occasional clumps of pitch pine, and with a surface of shrubbery. Walking over this dry tract was quite a relief. We then entered a thick forest of young spruce and hemlock. Two miles of this brought us to the banks of a small lake, with clear water, and a pebbly shore. Having no canoe to cross it, our guides led us around its southern shores. The fallen timber and brush rendered this a very difficult march. To avoid these obstructions, as they approached the head of the lake, we eventually took its margin, occasionally leading into the water. While passing these shores, I picked up some specimens of the water-worn agates, for which the diluvians in this quarter are remarkable. We now fell into an old Indian path, which led to two small lakes, similar in size, to the former one, but with marshy borders, and reddish water. These small lakes were filled with pond lilies, rushes, and wild rice. At the margin of the second lake, the path ceased, and the guides could not afterwards find it. The path terminated abruptly at the second lake. While searching about this, Chamees, [63] one of the Indian guides, found a large green tortoise, which he and his companion killed in a very ingenious and effectual way, by a blow from a hatchet on the neck, at the point where the shell or buckler terminates. After leaving this water, they appeared to be in doubt about the way; almost imperceptibly, we found ourselves in a great tamarak swamp. The bogs and moss served to cover up, almost completely, the fallen trees, and formed so elastic a carpet as to sink deep at every tread. Occasionally they broke through, letting the foot into the mire. This proved a very fatiguing tramp. To add to its toils, it rained at intervals all day. We were eleven hours in passing this swamp, and estimated, and probably over-estimated ourselves to have past twenty miles. We encamped at five o'clock near the shores of a third small lake, each one picking out for himself the most elevated spot possible, and the person who got a position most completely out of the water was the best man. It is fatigue, however, that makes sleep a welcome guest, and we awoke without any cause of complaint on that score.
The next morning, as we were about to depart, we observed near the camp-fire of our guides a pole leaning in the direction we were to go, with a birch-bark inscription inserted in a slit in the top of the pole. This was too curious an object not to excite marked attention, and we took it down to examine the hieroglyphics, or symbols, which had been inscribed with charcoal on the birch scroll. We found the party minutely depicted by symbols. The figures of eight muskets denoted that there were eight soldiers in the party. The usual figure for a man, namely, a closed cross with a head, thus:—
and one hand holding a sword, told the tale that they were commanded by an officer. Mr. Doty was drawn with a book, they having understood that he was a lawyer. I was depicted with a hammer, to denote a mineralogist. Mr. Trowbridge and Mr. Chase, and the interpreter, were also depicted. Chamees and his companion were drawn by a camp-fire apart, and the figure of the tortoise and a prairie-hen denoted the day's hunt. There were three hacks on the pole, which leaned to the N. W., denoting our course of travel. Having examined this unique memorial, it was carefully replaced in its former position, when we again set forward. It appeared we had rested in a sort of oasis in the swamp, for we soon entered into a section of a decidedly worse character than that we had passed the day before. The windfalls and decaying timber were more frequent—the bogs, if possible, more elastic—the spots dry enough to halt on, more infrequent, and the water more highly colored with infusions of decaying vegetable matter. We urged our way across this tract of morass for nine hours, during which we estimated our progress at fourteen miles, and encamped about four o'clock P. M., in a complete state of exhaustion. Even our Indian guides demanded a halt; and what had, indeed, added to our discouragements, was the uncertainty of their