Sault Saint Marie, August, 1846.
It is computed that the American coast of Lake Superior extends to about
twice the length of that which belongs to Canada. Our portion of the
northern shore is skirted by a range of mountains which seem to be from
two to three thousand feet in height; and it is said they extend in an
unbroken chain from the river Saint Louis to the gulf of Saint Lawrence.
Though they abound in cliffs, caverns, and waterfalls, when seen from
the water, “distance lends enchantment” to these mountains, and they
fade away, swell beyond swell, like the rolling billows of the ocean,
while an occasional cloud will rest upon them, as if to remind the
beholder of a ship, and thus complete the illusion. On the southern
shore of the lake is a range called the Porcupine Mountains, which
appear to be about as extensive (but not so lofty) as the Catskills;
their varying outlines, seen as you sail along the coast, are very
beautiful indeed. Point Keweenaw is also covered with hills, but less
lofty and picturesque than those already mentioned. That portion of the
coast lying between this point and the river Saint Mary, is low, and
with the exception of the Pictured Rocks, uninteresting. Though our
shores are not, generally speaking, what we should call rocky, yet they
are distinguished for a variety of remarkable bluffs. Those alluded to
above, are found on the east of Point Keweenaw, and extend along the
coast some nine miles. They have been striped with various colors by
mineral alluviations, and are about one hundred and fifty feet high. The
most conspicuous of them is perhaps three hundred feet high, but its
most superb feature was demolished by a storm in the year 1816. That
feature, according to a drawing in my possession, was an arch or
doorway, fifteen feet broad and one hundred high, through which the
Indians were accustomed to pass with their canoes. In those days, too,
from the crevices in these solid walls of whitish sandstone leaped forth
beautiful cascades, and mingled their waters with those of the lake.
Beautiful caverns meet the eye in every direction, and the water at
their base is of a deep green, and in some places almost fathomless.
A cluster of rocks similar to the above is found westward of the Apostle
Islands. These, however, are composed of a deep red sandstone, and are
only about one hundred feet high, extending along the shore for about
two miles. The arches here are almost numberless, and exceedingly
picturesque and singular, and you may wind your way among them in a
canoe without the least danger, provided you have a steady hand and
sufficient nerve. And the caverns, too, in these bluffs are also very
numerous, and some of them are so deep and dark that the eye cannot
measure their depths,—and from these gloomy recesses, “even in a season
of calm weather,” always issues a sound like thunder, which must be
perfectly terrific when a storm is raging. All these bluffs are covered
with a stunted growth of Alpine and other trees.
The largest island in Lake Superior belongs to the American government,
and is called Isle Royal. It is forty miles long, and varies from six to
ten miles in width. Its hills have an altitude of four hundred feet, it
is covered with forest, and has a bold shore. During the winter it is
entirely uninhabited, but for the two last summers has been thoroughly
explored by the copper speculators. The northern side is bold and rocky,
but the southern shore has a number of fine bays and natural harbors.
The soil is barren, but distinguished for its fishing grounds. According
to the Indians, it is the home of all the spirits of their mythology, or
rather what we should call fairy-land.
Near the western extremity of this lake are the Apostle Islands, which
are evidently detachments of a peninsula, running out in the same
direction with Keweenaw, which is known as La Point. The group consists
of three islands, and they stud the water most charmingly. There is a
dreamy summer beauty about them, which made me almost sigh to dwell
along their peaceful and solitary shores for ever. They are covered with
dense forests, and ascend from the water’s edge to a conspicuous height.
On the extreme point of the largest island is situated a trading post
known as La Point. When I was there, it contained about a dozen
inhabited log cabins, and the wigwams of about three thousand Chippeway
Indians. They were assembled there to receive their annual instalment in
money and goods from the general government, as a return for the untold
acres, which they had deeded to their “Great Father and Protector,” the
President. The sum allotted to each was four dollars in money, and in
goods one blanket and a sufficient amount of cloth to make a pair of
leggins. This was all, and yet many of these poor wretches had paddled
their canoes more than a thousand miles, to obtain this meager present.
The great majority had reached the Point in a state of starvation, and
were therefore immediately compelled to transfer their money into the
open hands of the American Fur Company, for pork at _fifty_ dollars per
barrel and flour at _fifteen_ dollars per hundred. It was understood,
however, that when the red barbarians should start for their distant
homes, the white barbarians would furnish them with sufficient
provisions to take them out of sight. This unhappy state of things took
such firm hold upon my feelings that my reflections upon the fate of the
Indian tribes actually threw me into a thoughtful mood, and prevented me
from enjoying my visit on the island. There is a Protestant missionary
establishment at this place, but the missionaries are compelled to
prosecute their labors as if with tied hands and closed lips, on account
of the superior power of the Romish church. From time immemorial La
Point has been the Mecca of the fur traders and the poor Indians. After
exploring the immense wilderness on the west and north, enduring the
severest hardships, they look forward to their visit at this place as
the prominent event of the year. It is also the recruiting or starting
place for all expeditions to the Mississippi river, there being only two
routes,—that by the Brulé and Saint Croix rivers, and another by the
Saint Louis.
The rivers running into Lake Superior from the south are quite numerous,
but none of them are very large. They are all remarkably clear, and
abound in waterfalls. They invariably enter the lake in some sandy bay,
and it is a singular fact, that shortly after a severe storm many of
them cannot be entered even by a canoe, owing to their being blocked
with sand, which event is of course followed by an overflow, for the
time, of the surrounding country. When the storm has subsided, however,
they break through the sandy barriers, and rush with great velocity into
the lake.