_Ascent of the east fork of the Mississippi, from Kubbakunna Lake
to the Naiwa rapids.—Its productions.—Indians kill a deer; their
mode of dissecting it.—Reach the foot of Naiwa rapids.—The
Naiwa portage.—Copper-head snake.—Zoned agate.—Journey from
thence to Ossowa Lake, the source of this branch of the
Mississippi.—Mistake in the latitude.—Portage from the east to
the west branch.—Hauteur des Terres.—The height of land between
the Hudson’s Bay and Gulf of Mexico waters.—Geographical notices
of its extent.—Its natural productions.—Its geology.—Arrival at
Itasca Lake._
We resumed the ascent at five o’clock in the morning, (12th.) The
course of this branch of the river, above the Kubbakunna Lake,
resembles a thread wound across a savannah valley. A species of coarse
marsh-land grass, covers the valley. Clumps of willow fringe this
stream. Rushes and Indian reed are gathered in spots most favorable
to their growth. The eye searches in vain, for much novelty in the
vegetation. Wherever the stream touches the solid land, grey pine,
and tamarack are conspicuous, and clumps of alder here take the place
of willow. Moss attaches itself to almost every thing. And there is
a degree of dampness and obscurity in the forest, which is almost
peculiar to the region. Water fowl seem alone to exult in their
seclusion, and evince the infrequency of intrusion by flying a short
distance, and frequently alighting within gun-shot.
After we had gone on a little more than an hour, the Indian in the
bow of the forward canoe, fired at, and killed a deer. We all landed
to look at the animal. Although fairly shot through the fore part of
the body, it ran several hundred yards before it fell. The Indian
traced it by its blood, and found it quite dead. He brought it to the
banks of the river, before skinning it. We stood in astonishment at
the dexterity with which this operation was performed. In a very few
minutes it was disrobed of its skin, quartered and dissected. The owner
presented me the quarters. He gave the _moze_ to our guide. This term
comprehends all parts of the carcass except the four quarters, head
and entrails. Nothing was, however, thrown away; and we had occasion,
at night to observe, that the aid of fire enables them, with very
little of the culinary art, to despatch those parts of the animal,
which, it might be inferred, were most in need of preparation. Signs of
this animal were frequently seen, and had the objects of the journey
permitted delay, it might have been often killed.
Our progress through the savannahs, was rendered more unpleasant than
it would otherwise have been, by frequent showers of rain, which gave,
as is usual, a peculiar activity and virulence to the musquito. When
the usual hour of landing for breakfast had arrived, the banks were too
marshy to admit of it, and we went on until a quarter past twelve. We
then again renewed a labor with little variety of incident.
At half past five we came to an elevated sand-hill on the right shore,
covered with yellow pine, and presenting a naked face towards the
river. As one of the canoes required mending, I directed the men to
land at this spot, for that purpose. Oza Windib, who was a little in
the rear, at the moment, said, on coming up, that we were within a few
hundred yards of the junction of the Naiwa, the principal tributary
of this fork; that a series of rapids commenced at that point, which
would render it necessary to make a portage the whole extent of them,
and that it was better to commence the portage at this place, as the
river so ran, that we might go directly back through the forest, and
strike its channel. He said that the Naiwa, which came in on the left,
was a stream of considerable length, and originated in a lake which
was infested by copper-head snakes, to which its name has reference. I
observed that the soil at this place was of a diluvian character, and
embraced pebbles, and small boulders of syenite, trap rock, and quartz,
and other debris of primitive and secondary rocks. One of the party
picked up a well characterised piece of zoned agate.
While the mending of the canoes was in progress, the baggage was put
in portable order, and as soon as all was ready, the men moved on
with the canoes and effects, which were so arranged that all could be
carried at one load, and it did not require them to go back. This was
a point originally kept in view, in the curtailment of the baggage
at the island, and it was an object of the highest importance to the
speed and success of the trip. Each canoe and its apparatus, with some
of the lighter pieces was carried by one man. The guide led off the
men, with no slight burden on his own shoulders, first scrambling up
the sandy acclivity, and then striking through a growth of scrub oak
and pines. The showers of the morning had so thoroughly wet the grass
and shrubbery, that a few moments walking through it, was sufficient
completely to saturate both pantaloons and stockings. I walked out a
few hundred yards from the trail, towards the left which brought me
into the curve of the river, in view of the rapids. There appeared
to be a series of small rapids, with intervening shallows. The noise
of falling water and the white wreaths of foam, induced me to think
there might be distinct falls, but I could discern nothing entitled to
the name. The average descent of the river, at this series of rapids,
appeared to be, however, considerable, and might perhaps be estimated
at forty-eight feet. I rejoined the party at the spot they had selected
for their first pause, somewhat to their relief, probably, as guns
had been fired by them, under the belief of my having missed the way.
We first came in sight of the river again, on the brow of an elevated
sand-hill, precipitous towards the water. The guide halted to inquire
whether it would not be preferable to encamp at this spot, as we
should suffer less from insects than if we encamped in the valley of
the river, at the termination of the portage. As the day light was not
gone, and some distance still remained, I deemed it better to go on,
that we might have nothing to do in the morning, but to put our canoes
in the water. On reaching the bank of the stream, we found its current
placid, and our guide informed us that we had now surmounted the last
rapids.
A fog prevented our embarking until five o’clock in the morning,
(13th) and it was then impossible to discern objects at a distance. We
found the channel above the Naiwa, diminished to a clever brook, more
decidedly marshy in the character of its shores, but not presenting
in its plants or trees, any thing particularly to distinguish it from
the contiguous lower parts of the stream. The water is still and
pond-like. It presents some small areas of wild rice. It appears to be
a favorite resort for the duck and teal, who frequently rose up before
us, and were aroused again and again by our progress. An hour and a
half diligently employed, brought us to the foot of Ossowa Lake. We
halted a moment to survey it. It exhibits a broad border of aquatic
plants, with somewhat blackish waters. Perch abound in it. It is the
recipient of two brooks, and may be regarded as the source of this fork
of the Mississippi. We were precisely twenty minutes in passing through
it. We entered one of the brooks, the most southerly in position. It
possessed no current and was filled with broad leaved plants, and a
kind of yellow pond-lily. We appeared to be involved in a morass, where
it seemed equally impracticable to make the land, or proceed far by
water. In this we were not mistaken; Oza Windib soon pushed his canoe
into the weeds and exclaimed, _Oma, mikunna_, (here is the portage.) A
man who is called on for the first time, to debark, in such a place,
will look about him to discover some dry spot to put his feet upon. No
such spot however existed here. We stepped into rather warm pond water,
with a miry bottom. After wading a hundred yards, or more, the soil
became firm, and we soon began to ascend a slight elevation, where the
growth partakes more of the character of a forest. Traces of a path
appeared here, and we suddenly entered an opening affording an eligible
spot for landing. Here our baggage was prepared for the portage. The
carbonaceous remains of former fires, the bones of birds, and scattered
camp poles, proved it to be a spot which had previously been occupied
by the Indians. The prevailing growth at this place, is spruce, white
cedar, tamarack and grey pine. We here breakfasted.
Having followed out this branch of the Mississippi to its source, it
may be observed, that its existence, as a separate river, has hitherto
been unknown in our geography. None of the maps indicate the ultimate
separation of the Mississippi, above Cass Lake, into two forks. Little
surprise should therefore be manifested that the latitude of the head
of this stream, is found to be incorrect. It was not however to be
expected that the inaccuracy should be so great as to place the actual
source, an entire degree south of the supposed point. Such however is
the conclusion established by present observations.
The portage from the east to the west branch of the river, is
estimated to be six miles. Beginning in a marsh, it soon rises into a
little elevation of white cedar wood, then plunges into the intricacies
of a swamp matted with fallen trees, obscured with moss. From this,
the path emerges upon dry ground. It soon ascends an elevation of
oceanic sand, having boulders, and bearing pines. There is then
another descent, and another elevation. In short, the traveller now
finds himself crossing a series of deluvial sand ridges, which form
the height of land between the Mississippi Valley and Red River. This
ridge, is locally denominated Hauteur des Terres where it is crossed
in passing from Lac Plaie to Ottertail Lake, from which point it
proceeds northward, separating the tributaries of the River des Corbeau
from those of Red River. It finally subtends both branches of the
Mississippi, putting out a spur between the east and west fork, which
intersects the portage, crosses the west or Itascan fork about the
point of the Kakábikonce, or Little Rock Falls, and joining the main
ridge, passes northeastwardly of Lac Travers and Turtle Lake, and is
again encountered in the noted portage path from Turtle Lake to Red
Lake. It is, in fine, the table land between the waters of Hudson’s Bay
and the Mexican Gulf. It also gives rise to the remotest tributaries of
the river St. Louis, which, through Lake Superior and its connecting
chain, may be considered as furnishing the head waters of the St.
Lawrence. This table land, is probably, the highest in North-western
America, in this longitude.
In crossing this highland, our Indian guide, Oza Windib, led the way,
carrying one of the canoes, as his portion of the burden. The others
followed, some bearing canoes, and others baggage. The whole party
were arranged in Indian file, and marched rapidly a distance—then put
down their burthens a few moments, and again pressed forward. Each of
these stops is called a _posè_ by the voyageurs, and is denominated
Opugid-jiwunon, or a place of putting down the burthen, by the Indians.
Thirteen of these rests, are deemed the length of the portage. The
path is rather blind, and requires the precision of an Indian eye to
detect it. Even the guide was sometimes at a loss, and went forward
to explore. We passed a small lake occupying a vale, about midway of
the portage, in canoes. The route beyond it, was more obstructed with
underbrush. To avoid this, we waded through the margins of a couple
of ponds, near which we observed old camp poles, indicating former
journies by the Indians.
The weather was warm and not favorable to much activity in bird or
beast. We saw one or two species of the falco, and the common pigeon,
which extends its migrations over the continent. Tracks of deer were
numerous, but travelling without the precaution required in hunting,
we had no opportunity of seeing this animal on the high grounds. It
was observed in the valleys of the river, on both branches. Ripe straw
berries were brought to me, by the men, at one of the resting places.
I observed a very diminutive species of the raspberry, with fruit, on
the moist grounds. Botanists would probably deem the plants few, and
destitute of much interest. Parasitic moss is very common to the forest
trees, and it communicates a peculiar aspect to the grey pine, which is
the prevailing growth on all the elevations.
To the geologist, the scene is one of interest. The boulders of
granite, and other primitive strata, occurring on the surface, remind
him of the original position of these masses, in the system of nature
and indicate revolutions affecting the earth’s surface, which have
widely changed both the position and form of these solid materials.
When the soil itself is examined, it adds further evidences of such
changes. We may refer its sand to consolidated strata of this mineral
which have been broken down by oceanic action, and distributed in
the remarkable ridges and elevations, which now characterise the
face of the country. In whatever light the subject is viewed, it
seems difficult to resist the conclusion, that water has been the
cause, under providence, in effecting these changes, and that the
highest grounds in this region, have been subjected to the peculiar
influence which this element alone exerts in the work of attrition
and deposition of strata, solid or diluvial. It might be interesting
to inquire, in what manner this agent of change was withdrawn, and
whether a current was created toward either of the cardinal points. It
would aid this inquiry to observe, in which direction the debris and
soils were deposited in the heaviest masses? How far granite boulders
had been carried from their beds? And whether wood, bones, and other
organic remains had been subjected to like removals? We think these
accumulations are abundantly witnessed in casting the eye down the
Mississippi valley, with a measured decrease in the size and weight
of the pulverised masses, in proceeding from the head to the mouth of
this river. It is thus evident, that the heaviest boulders are found
on its upper branches, while they become rare in its central plains,
and disappear altogether, long before its entrance into the deltas at
its mouth. And this remark may be coupled with the accounts given by
travellers of the bleak, and denuded, and sterile character of the
northern rock formations.
But we have no leisure to devote to this investigation, and must
proceed with the narrative that is before us. Every step we made in
treading these sandy elevations, seemed to increase the ardor with
which we were carried forward. The desire of reaching the actual source
of a stream so celebrated as the Mississippi—a stream which La Salle
had reached the mouth of, a century and a half (lacking a year) before,
was perhaps predominant; and we followed our guide down the sides
of the last elevation, with the expectation of momentarily reaching
the goal of our journey. What had been long sought, at last appeared
suddenly. On turning out of a thicket, into a small weedy opening, the
cheering sight of a transparent body of water burst upon our view. It
was Itasca Lake—the source of the Mississippi.
[Illustration: ITASCA LAKE
(the source of the Mississippi River, 3160 miles from the Balize.)]