In the spring of 1818, Major S. H. Long, U. S. A., was selected by the War Office to explore the Missouri as high as the Yellowstone, and, accompanied by a corps of naturalists from Philadelphia, set out from Pittsburgh in a small steamer. The results of this expedition were in the highest degree auspicious to our knowledge of the actual topography and natural history of the far West, and mark a period in their progress. It was about this time that Colonel H. Leavenworth was directed to ascend the Mississippi, and establish a garrison at the mouth of the St. Peter's or Minnesota river. Early in 1820, the War Department directed an exploratory expedition to be organized at Detroit, under the direction of Lewis Cass, Esq., Governor of Michigan Territory, for the purpose of surveying the upper lakes, and determining the area at the sources of the Mississippi—its physical character, topography, and Indian population. In the scientific corps of this expedition, I received from the Secretary of War the situation of mineralogist and geologist, and published a narrative of it. This species of public employment was repeated in 1821, during which I explored the Miami of the Lakes, and the Wabash and Illinois; and my position assumed a permanent form, in another department of the service, in 1822, when I took up my residence in the great area of the upper lakes.
It is unnecessary to the purposes of this sketch to pursue these details further than to say, that the position I occupied was favorable to the investigation of the mineral constitution and natural history of the country, and also of the history, antiquities, and languages and customs, of the Indian tribes. For a series of years, the name of the author has been connected with the progress of discovery and research on these subjects. Events controlled him in the publication of separate volumes of travels, some of which were, confessedly, incomplete in their character, and hasty in their preparation. Had he never trespassed on public attention in this manner, he would not venture, with his present years, and more matured conceptions of a species of labor, where the difficulties are very great, the chances of applause doubtful, and the rewards, under the most favorable auspices, very slender. As it is, there is a natural desire that what has been done, and may be quoted when he has left this feverish scene and gone to his account, should be put in the least exceptionable form. Hence the revision of these travels.
FOOTNOTES:
1. Vide Narr. of Cabaca de Vaca, Smith's Tr., 1851.
2. 291 years after De Soto's discovery, and 159 after Marquette's.
3. MS. Journal of Matthew Clarkson, in the possession of Wm. Duane, Esq., Philadelphia.
4. Ibid.
INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
CHAPTER I.
JUNCTION OF THE OHIO WITH THE MISSISSIPPI—DIFFICULTY OF ASCENDING THE LATTER WITH A BARGE—ITS TURBID AND RAPID CHARACTER—INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE—PHYSICAL IMPEDIMENTS TO ITS NAVIGATION—FALLING-IN BANKS—TIAWAPATI—ANIMALS—FLOATING TREES—RIVER AT NIGHT—NEEDLESS AND LAUGHABLE ALARM—CHARACTER OF THE SHORES—MEN GIVE OUT—REACH THE FIRST FAST LANDS—MINERAL PRODUCTS—CAPE GIRARDEAU—MOCCASIN SPRING—NON-POETIC GEOGRAPHICAL NAMES—GRAND TOWER—STRUGGLE TO PASS CAPE GARLIC.
I reached the junction of the Ohio with the Mississippi on the last day of June, 1818, with feelings somewhat akin to those of one who performs a pilgrimage;—for that Algonquin name of Mississippi had been floating through my mind ever since boyhood, as if it had been invested with a talismanic power.
The reading of books of geography, however, makes but a feeble impression on the mind, compared to the actual objects. Born on one of the tributaries of the Hudson—a stream whose whole length, from the junction of the Mohawk, is less than two hundred miles—I had never figured to myself rivers of such magnificent length and velocity. I had now followed down the Ohio, in all its windings, one thousand miles; it was not only the longest, but the most beautiful river which I had ever seen; and I felt something like regret to find it at last swallowed up, as it were, by the turbid and repulsive Mississippi. The latter was at its summer flood, and rushed by like a torrent, which seemed to be overcharged with the broken-down materials of half a continent.
De Soto had been the first European to gaze upon this heady mass of waters, urging downward everything that comes within their influence, and threatening to carry even their own banks into the gulf. We came, in a large, heavily-manned barge, to the very point of the influx of the Ohio, where Cairo is now located. It was early in the afternoon; but the captain of our craft, who was a stout-hearted fellow, of decision of character and a full-toned voice, deemed it best to come-to here, and wait till morning to grapple with the Mississippi. There were some old arks on the point, which had been landed in high water, and were now used as houses; but I retained my berth in the barge, and, after looking around the vicinity, amused myself by angling from the sides of the vessel. The only fish I caught was a gar—that almost single variety of the voracious species in these waters, which has a long bill, with sharp teeth, for arousing its prey, apparently, from a muddy bottom. The junction of two such streams as the Ohio and Mississippi, exhibits a remarkable struggle. For miles, along the eastern shores of the Mississippi, the clear blue waters of the Ohio are crowded to the banks; while the furious current of the former, like some monster, finally gulps it down, though the mastery is not obtained, I am told, till near the Chickasaw bluffs.
Early in the morning (1st July), the voice of the captain was heard, and the men paraded the sides of the deck, with their long poles shod with iron; and we were soon in the gurgling, muddy channel, struggling along its eastern shore. The men plied their poles with the skill of veterans, planting them as near the margin of the channel as possible, and placing the head of the pole against the shoulder, while they kept their footing by means of slats nailed across the footway. With every exertion, we made but five miles the first day. This slowness of ascent was, however, very favorable to observation. I was the only passenger on board, except two adventurers from the Youghioghany, in Western Pennsylvania, who had freighted the barge, and were in the position of supercargoes. Such tugging and toiling I had never before seen. It seemed to me that no set of men could long stand it. The current ran as if it were charged with power to sweep everything down its course. Its banks were not proof against this impetuosity, and frequently fell in, with a noise and power which threatened to overwhelm us. This danger was often increased by the floating trees, which had fallen into the stream at higher points. And when, after a severe day's toil, the captain ordered the boat to be moored for the night, we felt an insecurity from the fear that the bank itself might prove treacherous before morning.
Nothing in the structure of the country appeared to present a very fixed character. The banks of the river were elevated from ten to fifteen feet above the water, and consisted of a dark alluvium, bearing a dense forest. When they became too precipitous, which was an indication that the water at these points was too deep for the men to reach bottom with their poles, they took their oars, and crossed to the other bank. When night came on, in these damp alluvions, and darkness was added to our danger, the scene was indeed gloomy. I remember, this evening, we tried most perseveringly to drink our tea by a feeble light, which appeared to be a signal for the collection of insects far and near, who, by their numbers and the fierceness of their attacks, made it impossible to bring our cups to our mouths without stopping to brush away the fierce and greedy hordes of mosquitoes. Amongst the growth, cane and cotton-wood were most conspicuous.
I had a