Sault St. Marie, August, 1846.
I have finished my pilgrimage around the shores of Lake Superior, given
away my birchen canoe, and parted with my Indian guides and
fellow-voyagers. It now remains for me to mould into an intelligible
form the notes which I have recorded from time to time, while seated in
my canoe or lounging beside the watch-fires of my barbarous companions.
Lake Superior, known to be the largest body of fresh water on the globe,
is not far from four hundred miles long from east to west, and one
hundred and thirty wide. It is the grand reservoir whence proceed the
waters of Michigan, Huron, and Erie; it gives birth to Niagara, the
wonder of the world, fills the basin of Ontario, and rolls a mighty
flood down the valley of the Saint Lawrence to the Atlantic. It lies in
the bosom of a mountainous land, where the red man yet reigns in his
native freedom. Excepting an occasional picketed fort or trading house,
it is yet a perfect wilderness. The entire country is rocky and covered
with a stunted growth of vegetation, where the silver fur, the pine,
hemlock, the cedar and the birch are most abundant. The soil is
principally composed of a reddish clay, which becomes almost as hard as
brick on being exposed to the action of the air and sun. In some of the
valleys, however, the soil is rich and suitable for purposes of
agriculture.
The waters of this magnificent lake are marvellously clear, and even at
midsummer are exceedingly cold. In passing along its rocky shores in my
frail canoe, I have often been alarmed at the sight of a sunken boulder,
which I fancied must be near the top, and on further investigation have
found myself to be upwards of twenty feet from the danger of a
concussion; and I have frequently lowered a white rag to the depth of
one hundred feet, and been able to discern its every fold or stain. The
color of the water near the shore is a deep green, but off soundings it
has all the dark blue appearance of the ocean. The sandy shores are more
abrupt than those of any body of water I have ever seen; and within a
few feet of many of its innumerable bluffs, it would be impossible for a
ship to anchor. It is a singular fact that the waters of this lake are
much heavier than those of Huron, which are also heavier than those of
Erie and Michigan. I am informed on the best authority that a loaded
canoe will draw at least two inches more water in Huron than in
Superior.
The natural harbors of this lake are not numerous, but on account of its
extent and depth it affords an abundance of sea room, and is
consequently one of the safest of the great lakes to navigate. The only
trouble is that it is subject to severe storms, which arise very
suddenly. Often have I floated on its sleeping bosom in my canoe at
noonday, and watched the butterfly sporting in the sunbeams; and at the
sunset hour of the same day, have stood in perfect terror upon the rocky
shore, gazing upon the mighty billows careering onward as if mad with a
wild delight, while a wailing song, mingled with the “trampling surf,”
would ascend to the gloomy sky. The shipping of the lake at the present
time is composed of one steamboat, one propeller, and several small
schooners, which are chiefly supported by the fur and copper business.
And now a word or two about the climate of this region. The winters are
very long, averaging about seven months, while spring, summer and autumn
are compelled to fulfill their duties in the remaining five. During the
former season the snow frequently covers the whole country to the depth
of three, four and five feet, but the cold is regular and consequently
healthful. The few white people who spend their winters in this remote
region are almost as isolated as the inhabitants of Greenland. The only
news which they then obtain from the civilized world, is brought them
once a month. The mail-carriers are half-breeds or Indians, who travel
through the pathless wilderness in a rude sledge drawn by dogs. But the
climate of Lake Superior at midsummer is delightful beyond compare; the
air is soft and bracing at the same time. A healthier region does not
exist on the earth, I verily believe, and this assertion is corroborated
by the well known fact that the inhabitants usually live to an advanced
age, in spite of their many hardships. The common diseases of mankind
are here comparatively unknown, and I have never seen an individual
whose breast did not swell with a new emotion of delight as he inhaled
the air of this northern wilderness.
Before concluding this general description of the region I have recently
explored, I ought to speak of the game which is found here. Of the
larger animals the two principal species are the black bear and elk, but
they are far from being abundant; of the smaller varieties, almost every
northern animal may be found, excepting the beaver, which has become
extinct. Waterfowl, as many people suppose, are not abundant, for the
reason that the rocky bottom of the lake yields no plants to supply them
with food; but westward of Superior, about the head waters of the Saint
Louis and Mississippi, they are found in incredible numbers. As to
snakes, you might travel a thousand miles through the woods and not see
a single specimen. They are not “native and to the manor born.” The
traveller through this region finds but little use for his guns and
rifles; if, however, he is not too devoted a worshipper of mammon, he
may bring with him any quantity of fishing tackle, and his brightest
anticipations with regard to angling will be fully realized. But I must
be more particular in my descriptions, and will therefore make the
American and Canadian shores of Lake Superior the theme of my two next
chapters.