_Outlines of Itasca Lake.—Its scenery and productions.—Forest
trees, deer, fish, shells.—Width of its outlet.—Altitude above
the ocean.—Length of the Mississippi.—Its course above Cass
Lake.—Its origin south of latitude 47 deg. 16 minutes.—General
observations on the Mississippi.—Erect a flag on the island
in Itasca Lake.—Commence the descent of the West, or Itascan
branch of the Mississippi.—Character of its channel.—Rapids and
plateaux.—Falls of Kakábikons.—Portage.—Encamp at Pine Banks._
Itasca Lake, the _Lac la Biche_ of the French, is, in every respect,
a beautiful sheet of water, seven or eight miles in extent, lying
among hills of diluvial formation, surmounted with pines, which
fringe the distant horizon, and form an agreeable contrast with the
greener foliage of its immediate shores. Its greatest length, is from
south-east to north-west, with a southern prolongation, or bay, which
receives a brook. The waters are transparent and bright, and reflect
a foliage produced by the elm, lynn, maple, and cherry, together with
other species more abundant in northern latitudes. The lake itself is
of irregular form, which will be best illustrated by the accompanying
sketch. It has a single island, upon which we landed, after an hour’s
paddling from the spot of our arrival and embarkation. We found here,
the forest trees above named growing promiscuously with the betula and
spruce. The bones of fish and of tortoise, found at the locality of
former Indian camp fires, indicate the existence of these species in
the lake. We observed a deer, standing in the margin of the lake. And,
here, as well as throughout the lakes of the region, found the duck,
teal and loon, in possession of their favorite seclusions. Innumerable
shells, (a species of small helix,) were driven up on the head of the
island. Other parts of the lake yield small species of the unio, which
were found strewing the bed of the outlet. And it may here be remarked,
that this shell exists, in the largest and heaviest species heretofore
known, in the lower parts of this stream—the Mississippi having its
origin here.
The outlet of Itasca Lake, is perhaps ten to twelve feet broad, with
an apparent depth of twelve to eighteen inches. The discharge of water
appears to be copious, compared to its inlet. Springs may, however,
produce accessions which are not visible, and this is probable both
from the geological character of the country, and the transparency and
coolness of the water.
The height of this lake, above the sea, is an object of geographical
interest, which, in the absence of actual survey, it may subserve
the purposes of useful inquiry, to estimate. From notes taken on the
ascent, it cannot be short of one hundred and sixty feet above Cass
Lake. Adding the estimate of 1330 feet, submitted in 1820, as the
elevation of that lake, the Mississippi may be considered to originate
at an altitude of 1490, say 1500 feet, above the Atlantic. Its length,
assuming former data as the basis, and computing it, through the
Itascan, or west fork, may be placed at 3160 miles, one hundred and
eighty-two of which, comprises an estimate of its length above Cass
Lake. Its general course, in _ascending_, above the latter point, is
north of west, as far as Lac Travers. Then south to its primary forks
which is continued, following up the east fork to Kubbakunna Lake,
and for some distance further. It then varies a short distance, north
and north-west, then south-west and south, and finally south-west, to
its main source in Ossowa Lake. The portage thence to Itasca Lake,
is west south-west. Both these lakes appear to rise in springs, on
the height of land. They are separated by about six miles of country.
Their latitude, we had no means of accurately determining. From daily
notes of the courses and distances, kept by Lieut. J. Allen, as
indicated by a compass and watch, their position is, however, shown to
be _south-west_, and not, as heretofore supposed, _northwest_, of Cass
Lake. They are, in fact, a little south of west from Leech Lake, which
is placed, on our best maps, in forty-seven degrees sixteen minutes.
The highest northing attained by the Mississippi, is on the great
diluvial plateau, containing the contiguous waters of Lakes La Salle,
Marquette and Travers, which cannot vary more than a few minutes, from
forty-eight degrees. These facts will explain the error of the elder
geographical writers, who supposed that the parallel of forty-nine
degrees would intersect the Mississippi. Its origin in the remote and
unfrequented area of country between Leech Lake and Red river, probably
an entire degree of latitude south of Turtle Lake, which still figures
on some of our maps as its _source_, throws both the forks of this
stream out of the usual route of the fur trade, and furnishes, perhaps
the best reason why its actual sources have remained so long enveloped
in obscurity.
The Mississippi river traverses more degrees of latitude than any
other river in America, and the remark might, perhaps, be extended
to the habitable globe. The extremes of its changes in climate and
vegetable productions, are, consequently, very great. It occupies more
than three thousand miles of the distance between the arctic circle
and the equator. Long as it is, however, it has a tributary longer
than itself, (the Missouri.) Like the Niger, its mouth was discovered
by expeditions down its current, but unlike that stream, which has so
long held the geographical world in suspense, its sources have been
also sought from its central parts. Its entire course is, at length,
known. And we may now appeal with full certainty to the Balize and to
Itasca Lake, as its most extreme points. At the latter, it is a placid
basin of transparent spring water. At the former, it is as turbid as
earth in suspension can make it, and carries a forest of floating trees
on its bosom. Below the junction of its primary forks, it expands at
very unequal distances, into eight sheets of clear water, each of which
has features worthy of admiration. Four of these, Lac Travers, Cass
Lake, Winnepec, and Lake Pepin, are lakes of handsome magnitude, and
striking scenery. The number of its tributaries of the first, and the
second and the third class, is so large, that it would furnish a labor
of some research, to determine it. The Missouri, the Ohio, and the
Arkansas, are of the noblest class. Whoever has stood at the junction
of these streams, as the writer has done, must have been impressed with
an idea of magnitude and power, which words are incapable of conveying.
The broadest parts of its channel lie in the central portions of its
valley. Its depth is great in all its lower parts, and increases as it
flows on to the Gulf, and its general descent and velocity are such
as to appear very striking characteristics.[7] Noble views arrest
the eye of the observer, in every part of its diversified course.
Originating in a heavy and extensive bed of diluvial soil, superimposed
upon primitive strata, it soon wears its channel down to the latter,
and after running over them for several hundred miles, plunges at
length, at the Falls of St. Anthony, over the carboniferous limestone
formation, which is so prevalent and so valuable for its mineral
deposits, below that point. This is finally succeeded by diluvial and
alluvial banks, the latter of which are semi-annually enriched by fresh
deposits, and exhibit a delta as broad and as exuberant as the Nile.
Like the latter, it has its cataracts in the Falls of St. Anthony and
Pukaigama, and in numerous lesser leaps and cascades, where its current
is tossed into foam and threatens destruction to the navigation.
Such are its physical traits, and there is enough in their character,
magnitude, and variety to lead our contemplations irresistibly “through
nature up to nature’s God.”
Having gratified our curiosity in Itasca Lake, we prepared to leave
the island, but did not feel inclined to quit the scene without leaving
some memorial, however frail, of our visit. The men were directed to
fell a few trees at the head of the island, thereby creating an area,
for the purpose of erecting a flag staff. This was braced by forked
stakes, and a small flag hoisted to its place. Taking specimens of the
forest growth of the island, of a size suitable for walking canes, and
adding its few species to our collections of plants and conchology, we
embarked on our descent. The flag which we had erected continued to be
in sight for a time, and was finally shut out from our view by a curve
of the lake. We found this curve drawn out in such a manner as to form,
with the opposite shore, the channel of the outlet. We soon felt our
motion accelerated by a current, and began to glide, with velocity,
down a clear stream with a sandy and pebbly bottom, strewed with
shells and overhung by foliage. Ten feet would, in most places, reach
from bank to bank, and the depth would probably average over a foot.
The water was not, however, equally distributed. A strong and winding
channel, made it a labor of active watchfulness for the canoe-men, to
keep our frail vessels from being dashed against boulders, or torn in
pieces by fallen timber or overhanging trees. Chopping with the axe,
was frequently necessary to clear the passage, and no small labor was
imposed by getting through the drift wood, piled up at almost every
sudden bend. We were almost imperceptibly drawn into a series of
rapids and petty falls where the stream was more compressed, and the
water deepened; but the danger rendered tenfold greater by boulders of
blackened rocks, and furious jets of the stream. We were rather hurled
than paddled through these rapid passes, which increased in frequency
and fury as we advanced. After being driven down about twelve miles of
this species of navigation, during which the turns are very abrupt,
the river displays itself, so to say, in a savannah valley, where the
channel is wider and deeper, but equally, or more circuitous, and
bordered with sedge and aquatic plants. This forms the first plateau.
It extends eight or nine miles. The river then narrows and enters
another defile, beset with an almost continued series of rapids. The
sensation, in going down these, where the channel is free from stones,
can be compared to nothing so aptly, as the emotion which every one has
felt as the enterprise of youth has buoyed him up, in directing his
tiny sled down a snow covered declivity. The brevity of the emotion
takes away nothing from the truth of the comparison. The frowing rock,
often rears its dark head to dispute the passage, and calls for the
exertion of every muscle, in the canoe-men, to avoid, by dexterity of
movement, a violent contact. Often it became necessary for them to step
into the channel, and lead down the canoes, where the violence of the
eddies made it impracticable otherwise to guide them. At a place called
Kakábikons, or the Little-rock falls, we made a short portage. Two of
the canoes, however, made the descent, but not without imminent peril,
and a delay eventually greater, than if they had been carried across
the portage. We descended this second series of rapids a distance of
about nine miles, and encamped, at a late hour, on a high fine bank,
having come altogether about thirty-two miles below Itasca Lake.
Wearied with the continued exertion, the frequent wettings, and the
constant anxiety, sleep soon overshadowed the whole party, “with his
downy pinions.”