XXV

"There's music in the forest leaves

When summer winds are there,

And in the laugh of forest girls

That braid their sunny hair."

HALLECK.

"The forests are around him in their pride,

The green savannas, and the mighty waves;

And isles of flowers, bright floating o'er the tide

That images the fairy world it laves."

HEMANS.

There is one feature of the Mamelle Prairie, besides its eminent

beauty and its profusion of flowering plants, which distinguishes it

from every other with which I have met. I allude to the almost perfect

uniformity of its surface. There is little of that undulating,

wavelike slope and swell which characterizes the peculiar species of

surface called prairie. With the exception of a few lakes, abounding

with aquatic plants and birds, and those broad furrows traversing the

plain, apparently ancient beds of the rivers, the surface appears

smooth as a lawn. This circumstance goes far to corroborate the idea

of alluvial origin. And thus it was that, lost in a mazy labyrinth of

grass and flowers, I wandered on over the smooth soil of the prairie,

quite regardless of the whereabout my steps were conducting me. The

sun was just going down when my horse entered a slight footpath

leading into a point of woodland upon {32} the right. This I pursued

for some time, heedlessly presuming that it would conduct me to the

banks of the river; when, lo! to my surprise, on emerging from the

forest, I found myself in the midst of a French village, with its

heavy roofs and broad piazzas. Never was the lazy hero of Diedrich

Knickerbocker--luckless Rip--more sadly bewildered, after a twenty

years' doze among the Hudson Highlands, than was your loiterer at

this unlooked-for apparition. To find one's self suddenly translated

from the wild, flowery prairie into the heart of an aged, moss-grown

village, of such foreign aspect, withal, was by no means easy to

reconcile with one's notions of reality. Of the name, or even the

existence of the village, I had been quite as ignorant as if it had

never possessed either; and in vain was it that I essayed, in my

perplexity, to make myself familiar with these interesting items of

intelligence by inquiry of the primitive-looking beings whom I chanced

to encounter, as I rode slowly on into the village through the tall

stoccades of the narrow streets. Every one stared as I addressed him;

but, shaking his head and quickening his pace, pointed me on in the

direction I was proceeding, and left me to pursue it in ignorance and

single blessedness. This mystery--for thus to my excited fancy did it

seem--became at length intolerable. Drawing up my horse before the

open door of a cottage, around which, beneath the galleries, were

gathered a number of young people of both sexes, I very peremptorily

made the demand _where I was_. All stared, and some few took it upon

them, graceless youths, to {33} laugh; until, at length, a dark young

fellow, with black eyes and black whiskers, stepped forward, and, in

reply to my inquiry repeated, informed me that the village was called

"_Portage des Sioux_;" that the place of my destination was upon the

opposite bank of the Mississippi, several miles above--too distant to

think of regaining my route at that late hour; and very politely the

dark young man offered to procure for me accommodation for the night,

though the village could boast no inn. Keeping close on the heels of

my _conducteur_, I again began to thrid the narrow lanes of the

hamlet, from the doors and windows of every cottage of which peeped

forth an eager group of dark-eyed women and children, in uncontrolled

curiosity at the apparition of a stranger in their streets at such an

advanced hour of the day. The little village seemed completely cut off

from all the world beside, and as totally unconscious of the

proceedings of the community around as if it were a portion of another

hemisphere. The place lies buried in forest except upon the south,

where it looks out upon the Mamelle Prairie, and to the north is an

opening in the belt of woods along the river-bank, through which,

beyond the stream, rise the white cliffs in points and pinnacles like

the towers and turrets of a castellated town, to the perpendicular

altitude of several hundred feet. The scene was one of romantic

beauty, as the moonbeams silvered the forest-tops and cliffs, flinging

their broad shadows athwart the bosom of the waters, gliding in oily

rippling at their base. The site of Portage des Sioux is about seven

miles above {34} the town of Alton, and five below the embouchure of

the Illinois. Its landing is good; it contains three or four hundred

inhabitants, chiefly French; can boast a few trading establishments,

and, as is invariably the case in the villages of this singular

people, however inconsiderable, has an ancient Catholic church rearing

its gray spire above the low-roofed cottages. Attached to it, also, is

a "common field" of twelve hundred _arpens_--something less than as

many acres--stretching out into the prairie. The soil is, of course,

incomparably fertile. The garden-plats around each door were dark with

vegetation, overtopping the pickets of the enclosures; and away to the

south into the prairie swept the broad maize-fields nodding and

rustling in all the gorgeous garniture of summer.

My _conducteur_ stopped, at length, at the gate of a small brick

tenement, the only one in the village, whose modern air contrasted

strangely enough with the venerable aspect of everything else; and

having made known my necessities through the medium of sundry Babel

gibberings and gesticulations, he left me with the promise to call

early in the morning and see me on my way.

"What's your _name_, any how?" was the courteous salutation of mine

host, as I placed my foot across his threshold, after attending to the

necessities of the faithful animal which had been my companion through

the fatigues of the day. He was a dark-browed, swarthy-looking man,

with exceedingly black hair, and an eye which one might have suspected

of Indian origin but for the genuine cunning {35}--the "lurking

devil"--of its expression. Replying to the unceremonious interrogatory

with a smile, which by no means modified the haughty moroseness of my

landlord's visage, another equally civil query was proposed, to which

I received the hurried reply, "Jean Paul de --." From this _amiable_

personage I learned, by dint of questioning, that the village of

Portage des Sioux had been standing about half a century: that it

was originally settled by a colony from Cahokia: that its importance

now was as considerable as it ever had been: that it was terribly

shaken in the great earthquakes of 1811, many of the old cottages

having been thrown down and his own house rent from "turret to

foundation-stone"--the chasm in the brick wall yet remaining--and,

finally, that the village owed its name to the stratagem of a band of

Sioux Indians, in an expedition against the Missouris. The legend is

as follows: "The Sioux being at war with a tribe of the Missouris, a

party descended the Upper Mississippi on an expedition for pillage.

The Missouris, apprized of their approach, laid in ambush in the woods

at the mouth of the river, intending to take their enemies by surprise

as their canoes doubled the point to ascend. The Sioux, in the depths

of Indian subtlety, apprehending such a manoeuvre, instead of

descending to the confluence, landed at the portage, took their

canoes upon their backs, and crossed the prairie to the Indian village

on the Missouri, several miles above. By this stratagem the design of

their expedition was accomplished, and they had returned to their

canoes in safety with their plunder long {36} before the Missouris,

who were anxiously awaiting them at their ambuscade, were aware of

their first approach."

Supper was soon served up, prepared in the neatest French fashion.

While at table a circumstance transpired which afforded me some little

diversion. Several of the villagers dropped in during the progress of

the meal, who, having seated themselves at the board, a spirited

colloquy ensued in the _patois_ of these old hamlets--a species of

_gumbo-French_, which a genuine native of _La Belle France_ would

probably manage to unravel quite as well as a Northern Yankee. From a

few expressions, however, the meaning of which were obvious, together

with sundry furtive glances to the eye, and divers confused

withdrawals of the gaze, it was not very difficult to detect some

pretty free remarks upon the stranger-guest. All this was suffered to

pass with undisturbed _nonchalance_, until the meal was concluded;

when the hitherto mute traveller, turning to the negro attendant,

demanded in familiar French a glass of water. _Presto!_ the effect was

electric. Such visages of ludicrous distress! such stealthy glancing

of dark eyes! such glowing of sallow cheeks! The swarthy landlord at

length hurriedly ejaculated, "_Parlez vous Français?_" while the

dark-haired hostess could only falter "_Pardonnez moi!_" A hearty

laugh on my own part served rather to increase than diminish the

_empressement_, as it confirmed the suspicion that their guest had

realized to the full extent their hospitable remarks. Rising from the

table to put an end to rather an awkward {37} scene, I took my

_portfeuille_ and seated myself in the gallery to sketch the events of

the day. But the dark landlord looked with no favouring eye upon the

proceeding; and, as he was by no means the man to stand for ceremony,

he presently let drop a civil hint of the propriety of _retiring_; the

propriety of complying with which civil hint was at once perceived,

early as was the hour; and soon the whole house and village was buried

in slumber. And then "the stranger within their gates" rose quietly

from his couch, and in a few moments was luxuriating in the fresh

night-wind, laden with perfumes from the flowerets of the prairie it

swept. And beautifully was the wan moonlight playing over forest, and

prairie, and rustling maize-field, and over the gray church spire, and

the old village in its slumbering. And the giant cliffs rose white and

ghastly beyond the dark waters of the endless river, as it rolled on

in calm magnificence, "for ever flowing and the same for ever." And

associations of the scene with other times and other men thronged

"thick and fast" upon the fancy.

The first vermeil flush of morning was firing the eastern forest-tops,

when a single horseman was to be seen issuing from the narrow lanes of

the ancient village of Portage des Sioux, whose inhabitants had not

yet shaken off the drowsiness of slumber, and winding slowly along

beneath the huge trees skirting the prairie's margin. After an hour of

irregular wandering through the heavy meadow-grass, drenched and

dripping in the dews, and glistening in the morning sunlight, he

plunges into the {38} old woods on his right, and in a few moments

stands beneath the vine-clad sycamores, with the brilliant,

trumpet-formed flower of the _bignonia_ suspended from the branches

upon the margin of a stream. It is the "Father of Waters," and beyond

its bounding bosom lies the little hamlet of Grafton, slumbering in

quiet beauty beneath the cliffs. The scene is a lovely one: the mighty

river rolling calmly and majestically on--the moss-tasselled forest

upon its bank--the isles of brightness around which it ripples--the

craggy precipice, rearing its bald, broad forehead beyond--the smoking

cottages at the base, and the balmy breath of morning, with fragrance

curling the blue waters, are outlines of a portraiture which

imagination alone can fill up.

Blast after blast from the throat of a huge horn suspended from the

limb of an aged cotton-wood, went pealing over the waters; but all the

echoes in the surrounding forest had been awakened, and an hour was

gone by, before a float, propelled by the sturdy sinews of a single

brace of arms, had obeyed the summons. And so the traveller sat

himself quietly down upon the bank beneath the tree-shade, and

luxuriated on the feast of natural scenery spread out before him.

The site of the town of Grafton is an elevated strip of bottom-land,

stretching along beneath the bluffs, and in this respect somewhat

resembling Alton, fifteen or twenty miles below. The _locale_ of the

village is, however, far more delightful than that of its neighbour,

whatever the relative advantages for commerce they may boast, though

those of the {39} former are neither few nor small. Situated at the

_mouth_ of the Illinois as to navigation; possessing an excellent

landing for steamers, an extensive and fertile interior, rapidly

populating, and inexhaustible quarries for the builder, the town,

though recently laid off, is going on in the march of improvement;

and, with an hundred other villages of the West, bids fair to become a

nucleus of wealth and commerce.

_Grafton, Ill._