^7^V^(

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

I.I

u 114

|22

118

■ 40

2.0

1 1.25 III U ,,.6

-^ 6"

►

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

•SJ

23 WEST MAIN STRHT

WnSTER.N.Y. M5M

(716) •72-4S03

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHIVl/ICIVIH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical IMicroraproductions / Institut Canadian da microraprodiictions historiquas

^■■im""

Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notas tachniquas at bibliographiquas

Tha Instituta has attamptad to obtain tha bast
original copy availabia for filming. Faaturas of this
copy which may ba bibliographlcally uniqua,
which may altar any of tha imagas in tha
reproduction, or which may significantly change
the usual method of filming, are checked below.

□

D
S

Coloured covers/
Couverture de couleur

I I Covers damaged/

Couverture endommag^a

Covers restored and/or laminated/
Couverture restaurie et/ou peliicul6e

□ Cover title missing/
Le

titre de couverture manque

I I Coloured maps/

Cartes giographiques en couleur

Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/
Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire)

I I Coloured plates and/or illustrations/

Planches et/ou illustrations an couleur

Bound with other material/
Ralii avac d'autres documents

Tight binding may causa shadows or distortion
along interior margin/

La re liure serrie peut causer de I'ombre ou de la
distortion le long de la marge int^rieure

Blank leaves added during restoration may
appear within the text. Whenever possible, these
have been omitted from filming/
II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajouttes
lors d'une restauration apparaissant dans la texte,
mais. lorsqua cela dtait possible, ces pages n'ont
pas 6t6 filmias.

Additional comments:/
Commentaires suppl6mentaires:

L'Institut a microfilm* le meilleur exemplaire
qu'il lui a 4t6 possible de se procurer. Les details
de cet exemplaire qui sent peut-Atre uniques du
point de vue bibliographiqua. qui peuvent modifier
une image reproduite. ou qui peuvent exiger una
modification dans la mithoda normaia de filmaga
sont indiqute ci-dessous.

I I Coloured pages/

Pages de couleur

Pages damaged/
Pages endommagias

Pages restored and/oi

Pages rastaur6as et/ou pellicul^es

Pages discoloured, stained or foxei
Pages ddcolordes. tachetdes ou piqudes

Pages detached/
Pages ditachdes

Showthroughy
Transparence

Quality of prir

Qualiti in6gale de I'impression

Includes supplementary matarii
Comprend du mat6rial suppldmentaire

Only edition available/
Seule Mition disponibie

r~~| Pages damaged/

I I Pages restored and/or laminated/

ryi Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/

□ Pages detached/
Pages

ry] Showthrough/

I I Quality of print varies/

I I Includes supplementary material/

I I Only edition available/

Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata
slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to
ensure the best possible image/
Les pages totalement ou partieliement
obscurcies par un feuiliet d'errata. une pelure,
etc., ont 6t6 film6es A nouveau de fapon d
obtenir la meilleure image possible.

This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/

Ce document est film* au taux de reduction indiqu* ci-dessous.

10X

14X

18X

22X

26X

30X

12X

16X

20X

24X

28X

32X

^.*l!S»-

The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks
to the generosity of:

National Library of Canada

L'exempiaire film6 fut reproduit grice A la
ginirositt de:

Bibliothdque nationale du Canada

The images appearing here are the best quality
possible considering the condition and legibility
of the original copy and in keeping with the
filming contract specifications.

Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed
beginning with the front cover and ending on
the last page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All
other original copies are filmed beginning on the
first page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, and ending on the last page with a printed
or illustrated Impression.

Les images suiwantes ont 4t6 reproduites avec le
plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et
de la netteti de l'exempiaire fiim6. et en
conformity avec les conditions du contrat de
filmage.

Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en
papier est imprimte sont filmAs en commen9ant
par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la
derniire page qui comports une empreinte
d'impression ou d'iilustration, soit par le second
plat, salon le cas. Tous les au.es exemplaires
originaux sont filmds en commen^ant par la
premiere page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impression ou d'iilustration et en terminant par
la derniAre page qui comporte une telle
empreinte.

The last recorded frame on each microfiche
shall contain the symbol — »> (meaning "COIVI-
TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"),
whichever applies.

Un des symboles suivants apparattra sur la
derniire image de cheque microfiche, selon le
cas: le symbols — ► signifie "A SUiVRE". le
symbols V signifie "FIN".

Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at
different reduction ratios. Those too large to be
entirely included in one exposure are filmed
beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to
right and top to bottom, as many frames as
required. The following diagrams illustrate the
method:

Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre
filmfo A des taux de reduction diff^rents.
Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre
reproduit en un seul clich6, il est f ilm6 d partir
de Tangle sup^rieur g<3uche, de gauche A droite,
et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre
d'images nicessaire. Les diagrammes suivants
illustrent la mdthode.

1 2 3

TRYING HIS LUCK.

.?'Vfei,h;.V'

*nj*

: i; s

THK

£D STATEB

^U'itiv

■fiCCS.

•m AwriioK. * •

^M"

%'S# -'i

T»riNC HIS IVtiK,

ADVENTURES

INTHB

WILDS OF THE UNITED STATES

Attn

\tih\ %mtmm '^ts'skm.

CHARLES LANMAN,

AUTHOR OF "BdBATri FOH SUMMER HOURM," "PRIVATE LIFE OF DA8IEL WEBSTER," ETU., ETC.

IIiLUBTBATED BT THB AUTHOB AND OSOAB BBBSAV.

■TTIthont regUMrlog tbex tbingi bj tbe pen they will ilide away anprofltably."— Owen Felltium,

WITH AN APPENDIX BY LIEUT. CAMPBELL HARDY.

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. L

PHILADELPHIA:
JOHN W. MOORE, No. 195 CHESTNUT STREET.

• 1856.

Euterod according to act of CongrosH, In tBe year 1836, by
JOHN W. MOOUE,

in the Clerk's Office of the DiHtrlct Court of the United States' for the Eastern District of

Pounsylvauia.

n. B. ASHMEAD, BOOK AND JOB PRINTER,

0E0R(1E riTBBET ABOVE ELEVENTH.

PREFACE.

This work is composed of materials which I have gathered within
the last ten years, while performing occasional Tours into almost every
nook and corner of the United States, and the neighboring British
Provinces. It comprehends ample descrip'Jons of the Valleys of the
Mississippi and St. Lawrence rivers, with the Basin of the Great
Lakes, the entire Mountain-Land overlooking our Atlantic seaboard,
and the Alluvial Region bordering on the Gulf of Mexico. It is
indeed a kind of Cyclopedia of American Scenery and Personal Ad-
venture, and of Traveling Incidents, calculated to exhibit the man-
ners and customs of our people, and interest the lovers of Natural
Histoiy and the various' Arts of Sporting.

The several parts of the work, as they at present appear, wer( origi-
nally published in the journals and periodicals of the day, and sub-
sequently in as many small volumes, which were all very kindly
received by the public, both in this country and England. My chief
channel of communication, however, as a Tourist, has been the
Natiokal Intdllijcnccr ; but I have also written occasionally for the
New Yorh Observer, the New York Express, the Southern Literary
Messenger, and Bentley's Magazine. Among those who have been
my friends, and given me advice, and whose kindly offices I have
acknowledged in brief Dedicatory Epistleg, now thrown aside, are
Messrs. Gales & Seaton, Hon. George P. Marsh, Professor Joseph
Henry, William C. Bryant, Esq., Hon. John F. Crampton, and

PREFACE.

Wnsliington Irving, Esq. I mention tlicso eovcrnl names with frido
and thankfulness, and can only hope that the unpretending literary
career of their sonietimo pupil, will reflect no discredit upon their
tcachihj^H. With regard to Mr. Irvin>r, I would say that his delightful
writings were the first to animate me with a natural, though in my
0080 a daring spirit of emulation, but ns I have, in the following
letters, his sanction for my folly, I am ((uito contented. The first
had reference to my traveling essays, os they wcro»appearing at inter-
vals, and the second was in answer to a petition for advice on the pro-
priety of the present publication.

Sunny Side.

My Dear Sir : — I would not reply to your very obliging letter of
September 10th, until I had time to read the volumes which accom-
panied it. This, from the pressure of various engagements, I have
but just been able to do; and I now return you thanks for the
delightful entertainment which your summer rambles have afforded
me. I do not sec that I have any literary advice to give you,
excepting to keep on as you have begun. You seem to have the
happy, enjoyable humor of old Izaak Walton. I anticipate great
success, therefore, in your Essays on our American Fishes, and on
Anjiling, which I trust will give us still further scenes and adven-
tures on our great internal waters, depicted with the freshness and
graphic skill of your present volumes. lu fact, the adventurous life
of the angler, amidst our wild scenery, on our vast lakes and rivers,
must furnish a striking contrast to the quiet loltcrings of the English
angler along the Trent or Dove; with country milk-maids to sing
madrigals to him, and a snug, decent country inn at night, where he
may sleep in sheets that have been laid in lavender.

With best wishes for your success, I am, my dear sir,
Very truly, your obliged

WASHINGTON IRVING.

'Sir

PREFACE. y

Sunny S;de.

My Dear Sir : — I am glad- to learn that you intend to publish
your narrative and descriptive writings in a collected form. I have
read parta of them as they were published ecparatoly, and the great
pleasure derived from the perusal makes mo desirous of having the
whole in my possession. They carry us into the fastnesses of our
mountains, the depths of our forests, the watery wilderness of our
lakes and rivers, giving us pictures of savage life and savngo tribes,
Indian legends, fishing and hunting anecdotes, the adventures of
trappers and backwoodsmen; our whole arcanum, in short, of indi-
genous poetry and romance : to use a favorite phrase of the old dis-
coverers, " they lay open the secrets of the country to us."

I cannot but believe your work will be well received, and meet
with the wide circulation which it assuredly merits.

With best wishes for your success, I remain, my dear sir.

Yours, very truly,

WASHINGTON IRVING.

But another of the " Literary Fathers," who has honored me with
his friendly advice, is the Hon. Edward Everett, and, as I have his
permission for doing so, I trust my readers will excuse me for print-
ing the following lettei- r

Washington, February 19th, 1853.

Dear Sir : — I am much obliged to you for the copy of the English
edition of your life of Mr. Webster, kindly ^nt with your note of
yesterday.

I fully concur with the opinions expressed by Mr. Irving, on the
subject of a collective edition of your narrative aid descriptive writ-
ings. Having, during nearly all the time since they began to appear,
been engaged in official duties, which have left me but little time for

PREFACE.

general rcuilin^, T am not fauiiliur with all of them; bnt from what I
huvo read of tlicni, and from Mr. Trving'8 oniphutio and discriminat-
ing commendation, I am confident tho scries would bo welcomed by u
largo clasH of readers.

You have explored nooks in our scenery seldom visited ; and
described forms of life and manners of which the greater pprliou of
our buHy population are entirely ignorant. Topics of this kind,
thouf^h briefly sketelied, are, or at least ought to bo, in this country,
of fur greater interest than tho attempted descriptions of fashionable
life in Europe, which form the staple of those trashy works of fiction
constantly poured in upon us from abroad.

Wishing you much success in your proposed undertaking, I remain,

Very truly yours,

EDWARD EVEllETT.

As to tho concluding division of this work, it is proper that I
should make an explanatory remark. It was intended as a kind of
Sequel to the preceding Sketches, and consists of after records, tho
majority of which might have been printed in tho shape of letters,
when tho notes for them were first collected, but were published in
the National IntcUt'i/cnccr as Editorial Essays, whereby the frequent
use of the pronoun we is accounted for. The essays on tho Game Fish
of tho country were written at various periods of my angling expe-
rience, so that the reader will occasionally find in tho body of the
work more full accounts of the fishing streams and their scenery than
in the sequel ; while those who feel an interest in tho Legendary Lore
of the Aborigines, are referred to the additional collection at tho end
of the work. I also deem it proper to mention in this place, that
tho first part %vas written in 1846, tho second in 1847, the third in
1848, the fourth in 1851, the fifth in 1853, the sixth in 1863 and
1854, and the seventh from 184G to 1850.

And now, on glancing over the pages of my manuscript, I am re-

PRBFAOB.

▼u

niindod of tho many kind and aj^rooublo people, by whom I have bcvn
outcrtainod in my manifold journeys, or with whom I have sported in
tho lonely wildcrnosa, and to all of thorn would I send n wiuh for their
prosperity und happiness. From thoui, and from Nature, have I
gathered tho staple of thiii work, and the sceret of my huccosh thus
far, I fancy to be, that I have always written from impulse, with an
honest intention, and in the hope of securing the upprobatiun of those
only whoso hearts beat in sympathy with my own.

One word more. Should some of tho earlier passages of my present

publieatioQ appear, to the matured reader, to bo somewhat too fanciful
in idea or expression, ho will please remember that it is not manly
always to oondomu the follies of youth ; — and I must add the con<
fession, that I would rather bo wrong with tho warm-hearted lover of
nature, than to be right with the cold-blooded critic.

Gmryctown, D, C, Summer of 18D0.

CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

|l Bmmtx k % iniltaess:

VME.

SAINT LOUIS, 1

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER, ...... 7

LEGEND OF THE ILLINOIS, 12

NAUVOO, 15

PRAIRIE DU OHIEN, ....... 19

THE LEAD REGION, - . - - - - - 25

THE ALPINE REGION, 29

RED WIN<J VILLAGE, 34

THE FALLS OF SAINT ANTHONY, . . . ' - 38

A RIDE ON HORSEBACK, 45

CROW WIlfG, 48

THE INDIAN TRADER, ....'.. 55

SPIRIT LAKE, 59

LAKE WINNIPEG, 64

RED CEDAR LAKE, 69

ELK LAKE, 75

LEECH LAKE, 79

FISH OF THE UPPER MISSISSIPPI, .... 84

SANDY LAKE, 90

THE SAINT LOUIS RIVER, ...... 94

LAKE SUPERIOR, - - 100

KfT

CONTENTS.

THE VOYAGECR, 110

• THE COPPER REGION, 119

SAULT SAINT M^IE, 123

MACKINAW, 128

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN, 182

Jl %mx to i\t %ikx Sapenag:

THE CATSKILL MOUNTAINS,

A SPRING DAY,

THE CORN PLANTING BEE,

LAKE HORICON,

THE SCAROON COUNTRY,

THE ADIRONDAC MOUNTAINS,
THE ADIRONDAC HUNTER,

LAKE CHAMPLAIN,

THE GREEN AND WHITE MOUNTAINS,

MONTREAL,

QUEBEC,

DOWN THE ST. LAWRENCE,

THE SAGUENAY RIVER,

SALMON FISHING ADVENTURES,

SEAL HUNTING ON THE ST. LAWRENCE,

THE ESQUIMAUX INDIANS OF LABRADOR,

THE HABIT AN 8 OF CANADA,

LAKE TIMISCOUTA, ...

THE ACADIAN8, ...

DOWN THE MADAWASKA, -

THE HERMIT OF AROOSTOOK,

THE RIVER ST. JOHN,

THE PENOBSCOT RIVER,

MOOSEHEAD LAKE AND THE KENNEBEC RIVER,

171

188
196
200
211
21Y
229
238
244
255
259
?.G5
270
278
288
293
297
301
305
309
312
325
329
333

CONTENTS.

fetters ftmx t\t glleg^ang i;ountiuns:

DAHLONEGA, ...
TRIP TO TRACK ROCK,
VALLEY OF NACOOCHEE, -
CASCADE OP TUCCOAH,
THE FALLS OF TALLULAII,
THE HUNTER OF TALLULAH,
TRAIL MOUNTAIN,
DOWN THE OWASSA,
ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS, -
THE LITTLE TENNESSEE, -
SMOKY MOUNTAIN, -
THE CHEROKEE INDIANS,

CHEROKEE CUSTOMS

CHEROKEE CHARACTERS, -
HICKORY NUT GAP, -
THE FRENCH BROAD RIVER,

BLACK MOUNTAIN,

THE CATAWBA COUNTRY, -

THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR PEOPLE,

THE NAMELESS VALLEY, -

THE VALLEY OF VIRGINIA,

*
MISCELLANEOUS NOTES,

343
851
855
860

364
369
874
378
384
392
400
407
413
417
425
481
438
445
455
460
467
472

fjie 3mxm ai the fatflntiin

ROMNEY, . - - - 477

• MOORFIELD, 484

THE HERMIT WOMAN OF THE ALLEUHANIES, - - 4^9

ACROSS THE ALLEGUANIES, 405

THE CIIeAT RIVER COUNTRY, - - - - ♦ . 500

BUFFALO GLADE, 505

THR CUMBERLAND REGION, - . - - - - 510

ILLUSTRATIONS VOL. I.

TRYING HIS LUCK, Frontispiece.

LAKE PEPIN, face page 30

BLUFFS ON LAKE SUPERIOR, " " 104

THE VOYAGEUR'S CAMP, " " 111

DUCK SHOOTING IN MICIIJGAN, ^' •' 144

THE DEAD MOOSE, - - / " •■ 234

SUMMER IN THE WILDERNESS.

It ■

ADVENTURES IN THE WILDS

OP THB

Into SWts u)i '§xi\h\ %mtxxm |ro()inm.

SAINT LOUIS.

The River Queen, as Saint Louis is sometimes called, may
be looked upon as the threshhold leading to the wild and roman-
tic region of the Upper Mississippi, which is the Mecca of my
present pilgrimages.* It was founded in the year seventeen
hundred and sixty-four, by two Frenchmen, named Lliclade
and Chouteau, who were accompanied by about thirty Creoles.
The first steamer which landed on this spot came from New
Orleans in the year eighteen hundred and nineteen ; but the
number now belonging here is rated at threo hundred, many of
which are unsurpassed in speed and splendor of accommoda-
tions. The population of this city amounts to forty thousand
souls. It is elevated some eighty feet above the low-water
mark of the Mississippi, and from the river presents a hand-
some appearance. The old part of *he town is inhabited by a
French population, and is in a dilapidated condition ; but the
more modern portion is distinguished for its handsome streets,
and tastefully built mansions and public buildings. It might
be compared indeed, to a man with a French heart and Yankee
limbs ; and it is a singular circumstance that its geographical
position is within three hundred miles of the centre of North

SAINT LOUIS.

America. Fronting the leveo or landing-place are several
blocks of stone stores, which give an idea of the extensive busi-
ness transacted here. On one occasion I saw this wharfitig
ground so completely crowded with merchandise of every pos-
sible variety, that travelers were compelled to walk from the
steamboats to the hotels. This city is the home market for all
the natural productions of a wilderness country extending in
different directions for thousands of miles, and watered by sev-
eral of the largest rivers in the world. Its growth, however,
has been somewhat retarded by the peculiar character of its
original inhabitants. The acknowledged wealth of many of its
leading men can only bo equalled by their illiberality and want
of enterprise. But time is committing sad ravages among
these ancient citizens, for they are, from age and infirmities,
almost daily dropping into the place of graves. Under tho
benign influence of true American enterprise, this city is
rapidly becoming distinguished for its New England character,
in spite of the retarding cause alluded to above, and it pos-
sesses, to an uncommon degree, all tho worthy ({ualities which
should belong to an enlightened and eminently proHpcrous city.
There is one unique feature connected with the lliver Queen,
which gives it, at times, a most romantic appearance. It is tho
point whence must start all distant expeditions to tho North
and West, and where the treasures of the wilderness arc pre-
pared for re-shipment to the more distant markets of our own
and foreign countries. Here, during the spring and summer
months may often be seen caravans about to depart for Cali-
fornia, Santa Fe, tho Rocky Mountains, and Oregon, while the
sprightly step and sparkling eye will speak to you of the hopes
and anticipations which animate the various adventurers. At
one time, perhaps, may be seen a company of toil-worn trap-
pers entering the city, after tho absence of months, far away
on the head waters of the Mississippi or Missouri rivers, where
they have hunted the beaver, the buffalo, the otter, the bear,
and the deer ; and as they steal away to their several homes,
from the door of the Fur Company, where they have just ren-
dered their account, it does tho heart good to ponder on the
joys which will be brought into existence by the happy return.

SAINT LOUIB.

And tho Indiana, from different nations, who often virtit this
place, also add greatly to the picturesque appearance of its
streets. Summoned by curiosity, they congregate hero in large
numbers, and while their gaudy trappings and painted faces
remind us of tho strange wild life they lead, their prowling
propensities and downcast eyes inform us of the melancholy
fact, that they are tho victims of a most heartless, though law-
ful oppression. And this remark, by the way, reminds mo of
a living picture which I lately witnessed, and will briefly de-
scribe. It was the sunset hour, and I was returning from a
ride on tho eastern bank of tho great river. The western sky
was flooded with a saffron glow, in the midst of which floated
unnumbered cloud-islands, tinged with deepest gold. Under-
neath lay the beautiful city, with its church-spires uppointing
to the Christian's home ; then passed tho rushing tide of the
Mississippi, ploughed by many a keel ; and in the foreground
was a woody bluff, on tho brow of which sat a solitary Indian,
humming a strangely solemn song, as his white locks and eagle
plumes waved in the evening breeze. I asked no question of
tho "borrowing dreamer, but pursued my way, pondering on the
cruel destiny which has power to make man a stranger and an
exile, on tho very soil from which he sprang, and where repose
the ashes of his forgotten kindred.

Lover as I am of genuine art, it will not do for mo to leave
this city, the sturdy child of a new and great empire, without
alluding to its treasures in this* particular. The bright parti-
cular star, who uses tho pencil here, is Charles Dcas. He is a
^oung man who left New York about eight years ago, for the
purpose of studying his art in tho wilds west of tho Mississippi.
He makes this city his head-quarters, but annually spends a
few months among the Indian tribes, familiarizing himself with
their manners and customs, and he is honorably identifying
himself with the history and scenery of a most interesting por-
tion of the continent. The great charm of his productions is
found in tho strongly marked national character which they
bear. His collection of sketches is already very valuable.
The following are a few of the pictures which I saw in his
studio, which pleased me exceedingly. One, called tho Indian

*itl.

4 SAIMT LOUIS. ,

Guide, represents an ngcd Indian riding in the evening twi-
liglit on a piebald horse, apparently musing upon the times of
old. The sentiment of such a painting is not to bo dcHcribcd,
and can only bo felt by the beholder who has a passion for the
wilderness. Another, Long Jake, is the literal portrait of a
celebrated character of the Rocky Mountains. IIo looks like
an untamed hawk, figures in a flaming red shirt, and is mounted
on a black stallion. He is supposed to be on the ridge of n
hill, and as the sky is blue, the figure stands out in tlio boldest
relief. Artistically speaking, this is a most daring effort of the
pencil, but the artist has decidedly triumphed. In a picture
called Setting out for the Mountains, Mr. Deas has represented
a species of American Cockney, who has made up his mind to
visit tho Rocky Mountains. lie is mounted on a bob-tailed,
saucy-looking pony, and completely loaded down with cloth-
ing, pistols, guns, and ammunition. IIo is accompanied by a
few covered wagons, a jolly servant to be his right-hand man,
and two dogs, which arc frolicking on the prairie ahead, and
while the man directs the attention of his master to some game,
the latter shrugs his feeble shoulders, seems to think tliis n?ode
of traveling exceedingly fatiguing, and personifies the latter
end of a misspent life. You imagine that a few montlis have
elapsed, and, turning to another picture, you behold our hero
returning from tho mountains. Exposure and hardships have
transformed him into a superb looking fellow, and he is now
full of life and buoyancy, and riding with the most perfect ele-
gance and ease a famous steed of tho prairies. The wagons,
servant and dogs, are now in the rear of car adventurer, who*
comically dressed with nothing but a cap, a calico shirt, and
pair of buckskin pantaloons, is dashing ahead, fearless of every
danger that may happen to cross his path. These pictures
completely epitomize a personal revolution which is constantly
taking, place on the frontiers. One of our artist's more ambi-
tious productions, represents the daring feat of Captain Walker,
during a recent memorable battle in Mexico. Tho story is
that the captain, who happened to be alone on a plain, had his
horse killed from under him, and was himself wounded in the
leg. Supposing, as was the case, that the Mexican savage

■1 m

■*■

SAINT LOUIS.

would approach to take his »culp, he feigned himself tkiid, ns
ho lay upon his horuc, and as his enemy wa» ahout to butcher
him, ho fired and killed tho rnacal on the spot, and seizing the
reins of his enemy's horse, he mounted him and rode into his
own enmp. In tho picture, Walker is in the act of firing.
Hut the painting upon which Mr. Dcas's fame will probably
rest, contains a large number of figures, and represents the
heroism of Captain George Clarke, who, when about to be mur-
dered by a council of Indians at North Bend, threw the war-
belt in tho midst of tho savages, Avith a defying shout, and
overwhelmed them with astonishment, thereby saving his own
life and those of his companions. This picture is true to his-
tory in every particular, and full of expression.

But enough about these productions of art. I am bound to
the fountain head of tho Mississippi, and feel impatient to bo
with nature in tho wilderness. Before concluding this chapter,
however, I will describe a characteristic incident which I met
with in Saint Louis.

I had been taking a lonely walk along tho banks of the Mis-
slssijipi, and, in fancy, royelling amid the charms of this groat
western world, as it existed centuries ago. My mind was in a
dreamy mood, and as I re-entered the city the hum of business
fell like discord upon my car. It was the hour of twilight and
the last day of tho week, and the citizens whom I saw seemed
anxious to bring their labors to a close that they might be
ready for the Sabbath.

Wl'.ilo sauntering leisurely through a retired street, I was
startled by the sound of a deep-toned bell, and, on lifting my
oycs, I found that I stood bcf»ro the Catholic cathedral. I
noticoil a dim light through one of the windows, and as the
gates were open, and I remembered it was the vesper hour, I
entered the church. The inner door noiselessly swung to, and
I f'und in; self alone, the spectator of a most impressive scene.
A single lump, hanging before the altar, threw out a feeble
li^^'ht, and so ''< 'AAo Avas it, that a solemn gloom brooded
throughout the t.raple. While a dark shadow filled the aisles
and remote cprnors, t|^,r apitals of the massive pillars on either
side were lost in a still deeper shade. From the ceiling hung

SAINT LOUIS.

!-^

;i:H"

!■

Mil

many a gorgeous chandelier, ■which were now content to be
eclipsed by the humble solitary lamp. Scriptural paintings
and pieces of statuary were on every side, but I could discern
that Christ was the centre of attraction in all. Over, and
around the altar too, were many works of art, together with a
multitudinous array of sacred symbols. Just in front of these,
and in the centre of the mystic throne, hung the lonely lamp,
which seemed to be endowed with a thinking principle, as its
feeble rays shot out in the surrounding darkness. That part
of the cathedral where towered the stupendous organ, was in
deep shadow, but I knew it to be there by the faint glistening
of its golden pipes : as to the silence of the place, it was death-
like and holy. I chanced to heave a sigh, and that very sigh
was not without an echo. The distant hum of life, alone con-
vinced me that I was in a world of trouble and strife.

But softly ! A footstep now breaks the silence ! A priest
in a ghost-like robe, is passing from one chancel door to
another. Another footstep ! and lo ! a woman, clothed in
black, with her face completely hidden in a veil, passes up an
aisle and falls upon her knees in prayer. She has come here
to find consolation in her widowhood. And now, slowly tot-
tering along, comes a white-haired man, and he, too, falls into
the attitude of pralyer. With the pleasures of this world he is
fully satisfied, and his thoughts are now taken up with that
strange pilgrimage, whence travellers never return, and upon
which he fccly he must soon enter.

Other life-sick mortals, have also entered the sanctuary,
offered up their evening prayer, and mingled with the tide of
life once more. But again thR front door slowly opens, and a
little negro boy, some seven years of age, is standing by my
side. What business has hc^here, — for surely this offspring of
a slave, and a slave himself, cannot be a religious devotee ? I
take back that thought. I have wrongpd the child. The Spirit
of God, must tabernacle in his heart, else ho would not approach
the altar with such deep reverence. Behold him, like little
Samuel of old, calling upon the Invisible in pi'^ycr ! What a
picture ! Twilight in a superb cathedral and the only wor-
shipper a child and a slave !

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER.

>'iK

The literal meaning of vhe Chippeway word MeseeseepCy
accorditig to some authorities, is Water every where — and con-
veys the same idea which has been translated Father of Waters ;
while others assert that the Choctaws called it Mlssah-Sippah,
which is interpreted old, big, and strong. When we remember
the immense extent of the valley watered by this stream and
its tributaries, the latter name must be considered singularly
expressive.

That portion of the river known as the Lower Mississippi,
extends from New Orleans to the mouth of the Missouri, a dis-
tance of about twelve hundred miles. As the highAvay for a
multitudinous number of steam vessels of every size and cha-
racter, it is of incalculable importa,ncc, not only to this country
but to the world ; but with regard to its scenery, it affords little of
an iritcresting character. Excepting a few rocky bluffs found
hc]f)Vf Saint Louis, both shores of the river are low, level, and
covered with dense forests of cotton-wood and cypress, where
the panther and the wolf roam in native freedom, and the eagle
swoops upon its prey undisturbed by the presence of man. The
banks arc of an alluvial character, and as the current is exceed-
ingly rapid, the course of the river is constantly changing-
You might travel a hundred miles without finding a place suffi-
ciently secure to land ; and the water is always so very muddy
that a tumbler full will always yield half an inch of the virgin
Boil. The surface of the stream is never placid, but for ever
turbulent and full of eddies and whirlpools, as if its channel
were c6mpo5ed of a continued succession of caverna. Snags

' "I;

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVBB.

and sawyers abound throughout its whole extent. They are
taken from the shore by the rushing tide and planted in the
channel quite as rapidly as the snag-veasels can extricate them
from their dangerous positions.

The Lower Mississippi is probably the most dangerous an(J
least interesting river in the ivorld to navigate, excepting the
still more frantic Missouri, which the aborignos called Pehita-
noni, or ij;iuddy water. When not in actual danger, you are
likely to be so Sir removed from it, high and diy on a sand-
bar, that the annoyance, like a certain period in our national
history, has a tendency to try men's souls. The following pic-
ture of %n actual scene on this portion of the great river, may
be looked uponr as characteristie of the whole. On your right
is a series of rocky bluffs, covered with a stunted growth of
trees ', before you aa expanse of water ten miles long and one
or two wide; on your left an array of sand-bars and islands,
where lie imbedded the wrecks of some fifty steamboats, and
in the more remote distance a belt of thicklv wooded bottom
land. On the water, passing to and fro. "vre a number of
steamers, and immediately in the foreground a solitary sawycF
and a hull of a sunken steamboat. This is the spot which has-
been rightly named the Grave Yard, for hundreds of souls at
different times have passed from thence into eternity. When I
left the turbid and unruly bosom of the Lower Mississippi, I felt
towards it as a person would naturally feel towards tth old
tyrant who had vainly striven to destroy him in his savage
wrath. I should remark in passing, that the bottom lands of
this river arc not wholly without inhabitants ; occasionally a
lonely log cabin meets the eye, which is the only home of a
miserable being who obtains his living by supplying the
steamers with wood. Nailed to a stump before one of these'
squatter residences, which stood in the centre of a small clear-
ing, I lately saw a board with the following inscription, — " This
farm for sale — price $1,50." Though I could not help laugh-
ing at the unintentional wit of that sentence, it told me a
melancholy tale of poverty, intemperance, and sickness, which
are too often identified with the dangers of this wilderness.

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER.

I would now speak of the Upper Mississippi, and I only regret
that I cannot strike the poet's lyre, and give to this " parent of
perpetual streams" an undying hymn of praise. The moment
that you pass the mouth of the Missouri on your way up the
Father of Waters, you seem to bo entering an entirely new
world, whose every feature is " beautiful exceedingly." The
shores now slope r^'ih their green verdure to the very margin
of the water, which is here of a deep green color, perfectly
clear, and placid as the slumber of a child. My first view of
this spot was at the twilight hour, and every object that met
my gaze wore an unwonted loveliness. Over the point
where the sun had disappeared, floated a cavalcade of golden
clouds, and away to the eastward rolled on, along her clear,
blue pathway, the bright, full moon, and now and then a trem-
bling star, — the whole completely mirrored in the bosom of the
softly flowing but ever murmuring stream. On my right lay a
somewhat cultivated shore ; on my left a flock of islands, whose
heavy masses of foliage rested upon the water ; and in the dis-
tance was the pleasant and picturesque town of Alton, with its
chur'^h spires speaking of hope and heaven. No living crea-
tures met my gaze, save a Avild duck and her brood gliding into
their shadowy home, and an occasional night-hawk as he shot
through the upper air after his living food ; and no sound fell
upon my ear, but the jingling of a distant cow-bell and the
splash of a leaping sturgeon.

Another picture which makes me remember with unalloyed
pleasure this portion of the Mississippi, was a scene that I wit-
nessed early in the morning. The sky was without a cloud,
and a pleasant sunshine had full sway among the hills. On
either side of me was a row of heavily timbered islands, whose
lofty columns, matted vines, and luxuriant undergrowth of
trees, told me of a soil that was rich beyond compare, but sel-
dom trodden by the foot of man ; and in the distance was an
open viata, beautified by other islands, and receding to the sky.
Now, unnumbered swallows were skimming the water, uttering
a shrill chirp ; then, the cry of a disappointed blue-jay would
grate upon the ear ; now, a boblink and black-bird held a noisy

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER.

liiii

I ■' ♦■■'
"■'!?iM

conversation, and then the croak of a raven would descend from
the top of some dead tree ; now the mocking-bird, the dove, the
red and blue-bird, the robin and the sparrow, favored me with
a chorus of their own, while the Avhistle of the quail and the
lark would now and then break fortli to vary the natural orato-
rio. And to cap the climax, an occasional flock of ducks might
be seen, startled away by our approach, also a crane feeding on
the shore, or a bold fish-hawk pursuing his prey, while the
senses were almost oppressed by the fragrance of blowing
flowers, which met the eye on every side. ^ > '

By multiplying the above two scenes almost indefinitely, and
tinging them with the ever varying hues and features of the
pleasant summer time, and by. fancying on either bank of the
river an occasional thriving village, "like sunshine in a shady
place," you will have a very good idea of Mississippi scenery
between the mouth of the Missouri and the Lower Rapids.
These are twelve miles long, and the first on the river which
impede its navigation. The water, during the dry season,
varies from two to four feet in depth on these llapids, but the
channel is so very crooked that even the smaller steamers with
difiiculty find a passage. Below this point the eye of the tra-
veller is occasionally delighted by a fine prairie landscape, but
the following picture may be looked upon as a pretty accurate
epitome of the scenery between Nauvoo, at the head of the
Rapids, and Rock Island. It was the noontide hour of one of
those heavenly days which occasionally make very happy the
universal human world. My own heart, which had been dark-
ened by the shadows of life, was made joyous by its dazzling
loveliness. The sunsliine slept upon the quiet landscape, as
sweetly as if the world had never known a deed of sin, while
every object which composed the scene performed its secret
ministr;- of good. It was just such a day as George Herbert
has made immortal in the followinn: words :

" Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky ;
The dew will weep thy fall to-night,
For thou must die."

'#
M

THE MISSISSIPPI EIVER.

At my feet flowed the tranquil wntors of the superb river,
from whose verj' margin receded a level prairie, which soon lost
itself, in Ti rolling country, whose motionless billows receded to
the far horizon. On my extreme left lay a range of wood-
crowned and dreary looking hills, and on my right a solitary
bluff which was as smooth on every side as the most highly cul-
tivated lawn. The atmosphere was soft and of a rosy hue, and
made me long for the wings of a dove that I might float away
upon its bosom. Flowers of loveliest hue and sweetest fragrance
were all around ; and the only sound that fell upon my ear was
a hum of insect wings. On the blufis already mentioned a large
herd of deer were (quietly cropping their food ; and in the air
high towards the zenith was floating in his pride of freedom, an
immense eagle, the seeming monarch of the western world.

Rock Island, Avhence I date this paper, and which lies in the
river midway between the villages of Davenport and Rock
Island, is one of the most picturesque points I have yet seen
during my journey. It is,. literally speaking, a rocky island,
and is surmounted by the dilapidated walls of an ancient for-
tress, and was, in former days, the scene of many a struggle
between the red man and his brotherly oppressor. But the
place is greatly changed. Where once the gayly dressed ofii-
cer quaffed his wine cup at the midnight hour, the lonely shriek
of the owl is now heard oven until the break of day : and the
rat, the toad, and the spider, have usurped the place where
once the soldier hummed his thoughtless song, or was heard
the roar of his artillery.

LEGENDS OF THE ILLINOIS,

"«PI

Starved Rock is the unpoctical name of a singular spot on
the Illinois river about sixty miles east of this place, and eight
miles south of Ottawa. It is a rocky bluff, rising from the
margin of the stream to the height of more than a hundred feet,
and is only separated from the main land by a narrow chasm.
Its length might probably measure two hundred and fifty feet.
Its sides are perpendicular, and there is only one point where
it can be ascended, and that is by a narrow stair-like path. It
is covered with many a cone-like evergreen, and, in summer,
encircled by luxuriant grape and ivy vines, and clusters of
richly colored flowers. It is undoubtedly the most conspicuous
and beautiful pictorial feature of the sluggish and lonely Illi-
nois, down which I lately made a delightful excursion, and is
associated with the final extiuction of the Illinois tribe of In-
dians. The legend which I heard from the lips of a venerable
Indian trader, is as follows :

Many years ago, the whole region lying between Lake Michi-
gan and the Mississippi was the home and dominion of the
Illinois Indians. For them alone did the buffalo and antelope
range over its broad prairies ; for them did the finest of rivers
roll their waters into the lap of Mexico, and bear upon their
bosoms the birchen canoe, as they sought to capture the wild
water fowl ; and for them alone did the dense forests, crowding
upon these streams, shelter their unnumbered denizens.

In every direction might be seen the smoke of Indian wig-
wams curling upwards to mingle with the sunset clouds, which
told them tales of the spirit land.

LEGENDS OP THE ILLINOIS.

Years passed on, and they continued to be at ease in their
possessions. But the white man from the far cast, with the
miseries which have ever accompanied him in his march of
usurpation, began to wander into the wilderness, and trouble
to the poor red man was the inevitable consequence. The
baneful " fire water," which was the gift of civilization, created
dissensions among the savage tribes, until in process of time,
and on account of purely imaginary evils, the PottOAvattomics
from Michigan determined to make war upon the Indians of
Illinois. Fortune, or rather destiny, smiled upon the oppres-
sors, and the identical rock in question was the spot that wit-
nessed the extinction of an aboriginal race.

It was the close of a long siege of cruel warfare, and the
afternoon of a day in the delightful Indian summer. The sun-
shine threw a mellow haze upon the prairies, and tinged the
multitudinous flowers with the deepest gold ; while, in the sha-
dow of the forest islands, the doe and her fawn reposed in
quietness, lulled into a temporary slumber by the hum of the
grasshopper and wild bee. The wilderness world wore the
aspect of a perfect Sabbath. But now, in the twinkling of an
eye, the delightful solitude was l^roken by the shrill whoop and
dreadful struggle of bloody conflict upon, the prairies and in
the woods. All over the country woo Eoen the dead bodies of
the ill-fated Illinois, when it was. ordered by Providence that
the concluding skirmish between the hostile parties should take
place in the vicinity of Starved Rock.

The Pottowattomies numbered near three hundred wuriors,
while the Illinois tribe was reduced to about one hundred, who
were mostly aged chiefs and youthful heroes — the more des-
perate fighters having already perished, and the women and
children, of the tribe havirg already been massacred and con-
sumed in their wigwams. The battle was most desperate
between the unequal parties.

The Illinois were about to give up all for lost, when, in their
frenzy, they gave a defying shout, and retreated to the rocky
bluff. From this, it was an easy matter to keep back their
enemies, but alas ! from that moment they were to endure un-

LEGENDS OF TUR ILLINOIS.

<■' ::,

tiiought-of suifcring, to the delight of tlicir bafllcd, yet victori-
ous enemies.

And noAV to describe in words the scene that followed and
was prolonged for several days, were utterly impossible.
Those stout-hearted Indians, in whom a nation was about to
become extinct, chose to die upon their strange fortress, by
starvation and thirst, rather than su .'render themselves to the
scalping-knife of their exterminators. And, Avith a few excep-
tions, this wad the manner in which they did perish. Now and
then, indeed, a desperate man would lower himself, hoping
thereby to escape, bu: a tomahawk would cleave his brain be-
fore he touched the ground or water.

Day followed day, and those helpless captives sat in silence,
and gazed imploringly upon their bruad beautiful lands, while
hunger was gnawing into their very vitals. Night followed
night, and they looked upon the silent stars, and beyond, to
the home of the Great Spirit, but they murmured not at his
decree. And if they slept, in their dreams they onco more
played with their little children, or held converse with their
wives, and roamed the woods and prairies in perfect freedom.
When morning dawned, it was but the harbinger of another
day of agony; but when the evening hour came, a smile would
somolimes brighten up a haggard countenance, for the poor,
unhappy soul, through tkc eye of an obscure faith, had caught
a glimpse of the spirit land. Day followed day, and the last
lingering hope was utterly .abandoned. Their destiny was
scaled, and no change for good could possibly take place, for
the human blood-hounds who watched their prey, were utterly
without ir.crcy. The feeble, white-haired chief, crept into a
thicket and there breathed his last. The recently strong-
bodied warrior, uttering a protracted but feeble yell of exulta-
tion, hurled his tomahawk upon some fiend below, and then
yielded himself up to the pains of his condition. The little
form of the soft-eyed youth parted with its strength, and waw
compelled to totter, fall upon the earth and die. The weary,
weary days passed on, and the strongest man and last of his
race was numbered with the dead : and a glorious banquet was
.presented to the vulture and the raven.

'.Ik.

thiJ

fthc
fac

NAUVOO.

On my way up the Mississippi, I tarried a few hours at the
t'ar-famcd city of Nauvoo : and when I resumed my course, I
felt like one just awakened from an incomprehensible dream.
Surely, surely fanaticism is a most foul fiend, and wo ought to
rejoice with exceeding joy that lie who ruleth the armies of
heaven, is yet the protector of earth, and its inhabitants, and
will not leave the whole of mankind to the mercy of their idols.
The Mormon city occupies an elevated position, and, as ap-
proached from the south, appears capable of containing a hun-
dred thousand souls. But its gloomy streets bring a most
melancholy disappointment. Where lately resided no less than
twenty-five thousand people, there arc not to be seen more
[than about five hundred; and tlicsc, in mind, body and purse,
gecm to bo perfectly wretched. In a walk of about ten min-
futes, I counted several hundred chimneys, which were all that
I number of families had left behind them, as menjorials of their
< fo\\y\ and the wickedness of their persecutors. When this city
was in its glory, every dwelling was surrounded with a garden,
so that the corporation limits were uncommonly extensive ; but
Inow^ all the fences are in ruin, and the lately crowded streets
[rank with vegetation. Of the houses left standing, not more
than one out of every ten is occupied, excepting by the spider
i»-nd the toad. Hardly a window retained a whole pane of
Iglass, and the doors were broken, and open, and hingeless.
iNot a single laughing voice did I hear in the whole place, and
the lines of suffering and care seemed to be imprinted on the
faces of the very children who met me in the way. I saw not

Wit I

■ ,..<i:

; ,;i'

NAtfVOO,

'It

a single one of those numerous domestic animals, which udd so
much to the comforts of human life ; and 1 heard not a single
song even from the robin and the wren, which arc always so
sure to build their nests about the habitations of man. The
very sunshine, and the pleiisant passing breeze, seemed both to
speak of sin, sorrow, and utter desolation.

Yet, in the centre of this scene of ruin, stands the Temple of
Nauvoo, which is unquestionably one of the finest buildings in
this country. It is built of limestone, quarried within the lim-
its of the city, in the bed of a dry stream, and tjie architect,
named Weeks, and every individual who labored rpon the build-
ing, were Mormons. It is one hundred and L-vonty-cight feet
in length, eighty feet wide, and from the ground to the extreme
summit it measures two hundred and ninety-two feet. It is
principally after the Roman stylo of architecture, somewhat
intermixed with the Grecian and Egyptian. • It has a portico,
with three Roman archways. It is surrounded with pilasters ;
at the base of each is carved a now moon, inverted, while the
capital of each is formed of an unjuuth head, supported by two
hands holding a trumpet. Directly under the tower in front
is this inscription, in golden letters : " The House of the Lord.
Built by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
Comnie?icecl April Gth, 1841. Holiness to the Lord." In the
basement room, which is paved with brick, and converges to the
centre, is a Baptismal Font, supported by twelve oxen, large
as life, the whole executed in solid stone. Two stairways lead
into it, from opposite directions, while on either side are two
rooms for the recording clerks, and, all around, no less than
tAvelvc preparation rooms besides. On the first floor arc three
pulpits, and a place for the choir ; and on either side eight
Roman windows. Over the prophet's pulpit, or throne, is this
inscription : " !the Lord has beheld our sacrifice : come after vs."
Between the first and second floors are two long rooms, appro-
priated to the patriarchs, which are lighted with eight circular
windows each. The room of the second floor, in every particu-
lar, is precisely like that of the first. Around the hall of a
spacious attic are twelve small rooms, with circular windows,

NAUVOO.

and a massive lock on eacli door. At the two front corners of
the edifice are two winding stairways, which meet at the base
of the tower, and lead to the summit, — while the roof of the
main building is arranged for a place of promenade ; and the
walls of the noble edifice vary from four to six feet in thickness.

Estimating the manual labor at the usual prices of the day,
it is said that the cost of this Temple was about ^800,000.
The owners now offer to sell it for $200,000, but it will be a
long time, I fancy, before a purchaser is found.

The history of Mormonism is among the wonders of modern
times. The delusion, or shallow imposition, originated with
Joe Smith, while he was a tavern idler in Palmyra, New York,
about twenty years ago. The "Mormon Bible," or "Book of
Mormon," is a jargon of nonsense, which the Prophet cooked
up out of what he called the Golden Bible, and which he pre-
tended to have found in the cleft of a rock, to which ho had
been guided by a vision. Smith's first convert was a substan-
tial, but weak-minded farmer, named Harris, at whose expense
the book waa first printed in Rochester ; and the bloody scenes
which attended the sudden death of the Great Impostor, seem
only to have increased the number of his blind followers.

The Mormon, who took me over the Temple, and gave me
the above information, was nearly broken-hearted. Like the
majority of his brethren, remaining in the city, ho was without
money, and without friends ; and yet, it was to be his destiny,
in a few days, to push his way into the wilderness, with a largo
family depending upon him for support. It was in a most
melancholy tone, indeed, that he spoke to me the following
words : " Mine, sir, is a hard, hard lot. What if my religion
is a false one, if I am sincere, is it not cruel, in the extreme,
for those who call themselves the only true church, to oppress
me and my people, as they have done ? My property has been
stolen from me, and my dwelling been consumed; and now,
while my family ia dependent upon a more fortunate brother
for support, my little children cannot go into the streets without
being pelted with stones, and my daughters cannot go to the
well after a pail of water, without being insulted by the young
2

NAoroa*

i II

' 1

■; i' .III

"ii!

and noble among our persecutors. I do not deserve tliia treat'
mcnt. I am not a Hcoundrel, or a foreigner ; — far, far from the
truth ia this supposition. My gnndfuthcr, sir, was killed at
the battle of Yorktown, as an officer of the glorious llevolution i
my own father, too, was also an American army officer during
the last war ; and all my kindred have ever been faithful to the
upright laws of the government. Knowing, therefore, these
things to be true, and knowing, too, that I am an honest man,
it is very hard to be treated by my fellow-countrymen as a
* vagabond.' 0, 1 love this sacred Temple dearly, and it makc»
me weep to think that I must so soon leave it to the tender mer-
cies of the Christian world."

Thus far had this poor man proceeded, when his utterance
was choked with tears, — and I was glad of it, for my own heart
was aflfected by his piteous tale. I gave him a bit of money for
his trouble, when ho was called to attend a new arrival of visit-
ors, and I was left alone in the belfry of the Temple.

Then it was that I had an opportunity to muse upon the
superb panorama which met my gaze upon every side. I was
in a truly splendid temple, — that temple in the centre of a deso-
late city, — and that city the centre of an apparently boundless
wilderness. To the east lay in rare beauty the grand Prairie
of Illinois, reaching to the waters of Michigan ; to the north
and south faded away the winding Mississippi ; and on the west^
far as the eye could reach, was spread out a sea of forest land,
entering which, I could just distinguish a caravan of exiled
Mormons, on their line of march for Oregon and California.
As before remarked, when I went forth from out the massy
porches of the Mormon Temple, to journey deeper into the wil-
derness, I felt like one awakened from a dream.

PRAIRIE DU CIIIEN.

his utterance
my own heart

of money for
rrival of visit-
pie.

U80 upon the
' side. I "was
litre of a deso-
itly boundless
grand Prairie

to the north

d on the west,
of forest land,
ivan of exiled
nd California.
)ut the massy

r into the wil-

JuST above Rock Island are the Upper Rapids of the Mia-
i^issippi, which extend some fifteen miles, and have a fall of
twenty-seven feet. Th«iy made a deep impression upon my
mind, because it was thr>.e that our eteamboo^' swung upon a
rock for some thirty hours, and whore, soon as wo wore clear,
we ran into a downward-bound steamer, and settled her to the
^bottom ; but fortunately no lives were lost. I noticed on these
and tho Lower Rapids a certain fly or miller, which were at the
evening hour flying about in immense numbers. They are called
the Mormon fly, and T was told were found on these rapids
alone, and that whore v or they alight, there they remain, if not
disturbed, until they die.

Soon after wo had passed these rapids, I enjoyed another
prairie scene, wh h was even more superb than the one I have
already attempt id to describe. On this occasion the bank in
the foreground was covered Avith grass that must have been at
least six feet high, and the only living creatures that I saw were
a beautiful doe and her fawn, quenching their thirst in the
limpid stream.

The Illinois side of the Mississippi, between the Upper Rapids
and the Fever river, which leads you to Galena, is characterized
by an extensive range of fantastic bluffs and isolated rocks.
Covered as they are with vines and mosses, they present the
appearance of ancient ruins ; and it requires no great stretch
of the imagination to discover towers and turrets of ancient
castles, fortress walls that have been partly battered down, and
solitary pillars rising in gloomy grandeur, as if to preach a

twill, iif

PRAIRIE DU CHIEN.

'lu!':

salutary lesson to the passing traveller, upon the ravages of
time. This same kind of singular scenery ornaments the river
in the vicinity of Dubuque, (which, like Galena, is some dis-
tance from the Mississippi,) and extends as far as Prairie Du
Chien, only, as you ascend, the bluffs become more lofty and
imposing. On the summit of one of the most beautiful of these
bluffs is a small cabin and a large wooden cross, where the
French trader and miner, Dubuque, was buried, according to
his oAvn request, and in a coflSn made of solid lead.

Prairie Du Chien is undoubtedly one of the most interesting
and beautiful places on the Mississippi. It takes its name from
the fact that it was once the camping place of a Fox Indian
Chief, whose name was — The Dog. The prairie extends along
the eastern bank of the river for about ten miles ; on the one
hand it slopes gently down the river, and on the other is
bounded by a range of bluffs, which are some five hundred feet
high, and exceedingly picturesque. The houses that shelter*
the inhabitants of this place are planted without any order, but
as it is one of our more ancient trading posts, there is a rude
and romantic appearance about them which is quite refreshing.
Here, in the form of an isolated square, lie the barracks of Fort
Crawford, where the discordant sounds of the drum and the
shrill whistle of the fife are often heard ; while in another part
of the plain are the ruins of an old fortress almost level with
the ground. Now a lonely Catholic church is seen holding
forth its gilded cross ; and now, the store of the Indian trader
is surrounded with a herd of Winnebago Indians, who resort
here for purposes of trade. The territory of this tribe lies
directly on the opposite side of the Mississippi, where the eye
is again gratified by a range of wood-covered bluffs, rising
directly from the margin of the stream. From the regular
lines of naked strata which extend along the siderf of all the
bluffs in this vicinity, it is evident that the spot called Prairie
Du Chien was formerly the bed of the Mississippi, but how
many centuries ago this was the case, it is impossible to
imagine. And yet if this conclusion is correct, and we remem-
ber that there are hundreds of similar prairies as well as bottom

i*'ii

PRAIRIE DU CHIEN.

lands on the Mississippi, we must also conclude that this stream
is now a mere rivulet to what it was in the times of old.

On the bluffs, in the immediate vicinity of Prairie Du Chien,
are some of the most remarkable of those strange memorials of
a forgotten race which have yet been discovered in our country.
Like those of Ohio, Kentucky, Missouri, and Illinois, those of
the more northern wilderness will long continue to puzzle tlie
antiquarian, and furnish food for the poet and the moralist.
Here the mounds, trenches, and cellars are found connected in
one scries of works, which seem to have been used for military
purposes. Deep under the surface of the ground, tomahawks
of brass (differing materially from those now in use) have been
found ; and stories arc told of gigantic skeletons having been
disinterred in the neighborhood. The only things which throw
any light upon these singular ruins, are the uncouth and un-
satisfactory legends of the Indians, who tell us that a race of
white giants were once the possessors of the soil which they
have inherited from their warlike and victorious ancestors.
These vestiges of an extinct race, " lie in their sunless cham-
bers like the spirits of the past, as if in mockery of an age
which arrogates to itself the term of an age of light. They
will probably remain for ever a signal rebuke upon the learn-
ing of modern times, assuming, as it does, the pride of universal
knowledge."

At this place I met and had a long conversation with an
Indian trader, who had lived in the wilderness for more than
half a century. He gave me an interesting account of the
battle of Bad Axe, at which he was present. This spot lies
some distance below Prairie Du Chien, and received its name
from an Indian, who was killed and buried there at an early
day. The trader told me that the word battle was not the right
one to use in speaking of that conclusion of the Black Hawk
war ; — it was a cruel massacre. The poor Indians were crossing
the river (as they had been for days) with all possible despatch,
when they were overtaken by a force of three thousand of our*
well-armed soldiers. The surprise caused great consternation
among the Indians ; all who could, made their escape, and the

Imiii i.i.

jih..i' i ■

PRAIRIE DU CHIEN.

.!'!*■'!! 1 1

i !

■■ -Ml

leader of this crowd was Black Hawk himself. Six of our
people alone were killed : and nine-tenths of the two hundred
red-skins slain, were tvomen and children. The famished con-
dition of the enemy on that occasion must have been melancholy
indeed. My old friend told me, that among the scenes which
he witnessed on the ground after this massacre, was a dead
child, with the meatless bono of a young colt's leg grasped
firmly in its little hand ; — it had died of starvation while cling-
ing to the body of its murdered mother. And this is a portion
of the payment that our Government has ever been in the habit
of awarding to the poor Indian, for the splendid territories
which were his only inheritance.

The Winnebagoes are about the only Indians who visit
Prairie Du Chien for purposes of traffic ; formerly, however,
it was the congregating place for the nations Avhich lived upon
the Fox and Wisconsin rivers, as well as those upon the head
waters of the Mississippi. The Winnebagoes were once almost
as numerous as the leaves upon the trees, but the nation has
been so far reduced that only about three thousand now remain.
And a more unhappy people do not exist upon the continent, —
warriors, women and children are all apparently broken hearted.
In olden times they were a race of brave men and beautiful
women, but now they prowl among their native hills a brother-
hood of vagabonds, exceedingly poor and universally despised.
And yet the white man who was the author of all this misery
counts his gold, and congratulates himself with the idea that he
is a Christian.

But I am wandering from what I was about to record, viz.,
the history of a visit to the lodge of Winneshfc, head chief of
the Winnebagoes. The business which had brought the old
man to the Prairie, was, to exchange the skin of a recently
captured bear, for a sranll bag of flour and some Ammunition.
I had made him a present of tobacco, (which is about the only
currency that a traveller can make use of in the wilderness,)
'and when it was intimated to him that I should be pleased to
visit his lodge, he immediately pressed me to become his guest,
which invitation was duly accepted. Ho had come to the

III"!'

PRAIRIE DU CHIEN.

Prairie alone, in* a small wooden canoe, in ■which, at the ap-
pointed hour, I seated myself and away we started up the Mis-
sissippi. With the language of my old friend I was partially
acquainted, and this, with my knowledge of the Indian charac-
ter, and his smattering of English, enabled me to carry on a
respectable conversation. The old man told me that I must
keep very quiet in ray seat, as he thoi^ht me a novice in canoe
navigation ; whereupon I seized a paddle and feathered it a few
moments in a style worthy of the chief himself, which not only
surprised but pleased him. After a quiet sail of about an hour,
during which time I enjoyed some of the finest scenery and one
of the brightest of sunsets, the canoe suddenly turned into the
mouth of a little creek, and I was landed at the threshhold of
my companion's lodge. It was made of buffalo skins and
shaped like a sugar loaf. It stood upon a plot of level ground,,
in the centre of a brotherhood of elms, and at the foot of an
abrupt hill. It was so far elevated as to command a southern
view of the Mississippi, extending at least a dozen miles, — the
river meanwhile making two or three magnificent sweeps, as if
in honor of the beautiful islands which rested like jewels on its
peaceful bosom.

The extent of Winneshic's family I was unable to learn, but
the only individuals whom I saw at his lodge were his wife, a
couple of fine looking boys and a little girL They were all
glad to see me, and treated me with marked politeness. I was
invited to a seat upon the handsomest mat in the lodge, and
while the chief sat by my side smoking his pipe and entertain-
ing me with the strange wild stories of his life, the wife busied
herself in finishing a pair of moccasins, while the children were
cooking a wilderness supper. That supper consisted of boiled
fish, a roasted duck, and a piece of dough about half baked, all
of which we ate with our fingers, and without salt.

After the repast was ended I thought it my turn to entertain
my friends, and for this purpose had brought my portfolio of
sketches, Avhich were carefully examined by the light of a
blazing fire. Some of the scenes' I had sketched were recog-
nized by the whole family, and caused them to look with wonder

J. -i'f

PRAIRIE DU CHIEJT.

i l! •

upon my supposed talent and upon the lead pencil which I also
exhibited to them. Their astonishment amused me exceedingly,
and I greatly increased it by sketching a profile of the chief
and his better-half. It so happened that I waa successful in
my attempt, and when I '>resentcd the sketches to the indivi-
duals represented, they ransacked every nook and corner of
their lodge for something to give me in return. The chief
handed me a beautiful pipe from the famous red stone quarry,
while the wife presented mo with the most fantastic pair of
moccasins in her possession ; the little girl gave me a cake of
maple sugar, and one of the boys presented me with an eagle's
plume, and the other Avith a bow and arrows.

It was near midnight before I was suflFored to lie down to
rest, but before taking this step I emerged from the wigwam for
• the purpose of looking upon the Mississippi at that hour. And
a lovely sight indeed was it my privilege to behold. The moon
was sweeping across her cloudless field of blue — a beautiful but
impatient queen — while an occainonal star gazed upward from
its watchtower, as if in admiration of the heaven-boru spectacle.
All the hills and islands were in deep shadow, and before me,
far as the eye could reach, lay exposed the windings of the
stream, which vas brighter than a shi'ld of burnished steel.
So very still was the air around, that yju i. '^ht now hear the
shrill note of some frightened deer far , 7ay upon the hillside;'
and now the scream of a lonely loon, the splashing of a leaping
fish, and the rippling of the rivulet at my feet, which glided into
the bosom of its parent stream through a cluster of tall reeds.
With this picture and its manifold associations deeply fixed in
my mind, I re-entered the lodge, threw myself upon a mat in
the midst of my Indian friends, and was soon in a deep sleep.

I arose, on the following morning, at an early hour, and after
partaking of a breakfast of boiled fish, I entered, with the chief,
into his canoe, and in forty minutes was at my quarters, in
Prairie Du Chien.

"i'M

iiim

which I also
3xceedingly,
of the chief
successful in

the indivi-
id corner of

The chief
tone quarry,
istic pair of
no a cake of
;h an eagle's

lie down to
3 wigwam for
; hour. And
The moon
beautiful but
upward from
ru spectacle.

1 before me,
dings of the
nished steel,
low hear the
the hillside;-
of a leaping

ih glided into
»f tall reeds,
leply fixed in
pen a mat in
deep sleep,
lur, and after
dth the chief,
f quarters, in

THE LEAD REGION.

The lead region of the Mississippi occupies not far from one
hundred square miles. The two principal towns are Galena
and Dubuque, which are both handsome and flourishing. The
original possessors of this land were the Saque and Fox
Indians, who used to sell to the white settlers on the frontier
the ore which they often found upon the surface of their soiL
The first white man who went into the mining business here
was Dubuque. Of this man many strange stories are related.
He was a kind of medicine prophet among the Indians, and is
said to have had a remarkable influence over them, as well as
over the rattlesnake, the bite of which he pretended to cure by
enchantment. He became a great favorite with the Indians,
and for a long time was the only man, not of their blood, whom
they would suffer to live upon their soil. After his death, they
placed him in a leaden coflBn of their own manufacture, and
buried him on the picturesque bluff which bears his name as
already mentioned; and after this they destroyed e^'-^ry vestige
of his property.

In process of time, extravagant mineral stories were circu-
lated throughout the country, and the general government pur-
chased the Indian El Dorado of its possessors. The first man
wlio went into the mining business of Galena, after the country
had become our own, was Col. Richard M. Johnson. Since
that time, thousands of people, on various occasions, have made
and lost money in this peculiar business, which, from its very
nature, is in reality, a lottery. Lead, lead is the burthen of
every body's song, and the quantities weekly shipped to Saint

THE LEAD KFolION.

i*r'- ^'ii;

: I

Louis arc truly immense ; thirty million pounds having been
smelted in a single year. In 1826, a vein of astonishing rich-
ness was found by three brothers named Gratiet, and that too,
after digging only a single foot, while shafts have since been
sunk at least two hundred feet. But a man may dig until
doomsday without finding a lead, and consequently die a beg-
gar — while another, in a few months will realize a fortune,
upon which he is too apt to retire, and then squander at the
gaming table, so that you also soon find him an idler, and in
want. One individual I have myself knov,-ii, who came to Ga-
' "na with five hundred dollars ; and having labored with un-
ceiising industry for about three years, and expended his little
fortune, when I saw him, had not the means of purchasing a
loaf of broad, and was utterly without employment. Notwith-
standing the liberal mining regulations of the government, the
■fates were against him, and he Avas compelled to give up his
mineral dreams in despair. Another individual, whom. I saw at
Galena, was remarkably fortunate in his operations. A little
more than a year age he commenced digging a certain hillside,
and the first thing he knew, his spade struck against a solid mass
of ore. He was encouraged, and proceeded in his excavations,
and, in the course cl' a single year, sold a sufficient quantity of
eighty per cent, jro to amount to the sum of twenty-three
thousand dollars. His mine is still yielding quite abundantly,
and as it is probi bly the best in this region, I will descnbe it
in a few words.

. After descending a shaft of some eighty feet in depth, by
jumping into a tub attached to a stout rope, you find yourself
in the centre of an immense cave, with chambers leading in
various directions. The walls and ceilings are mostly of pure
sand, excepting where an occasional solid mass of native lead
glistens like silver or gold, in the torch-light. Square blocks
of the ore, weighing from half a pound to one hundred, all lie as
accurately dovetailed together, as if placed there by the hands
of a master mason. While looking upon these singular masses,
I could hardly banish the thought from my mind, that we were
in view of treasures which had been hidden here in those days

;i;'!1l

THE LEAD REGION.

■when giants inhabited the world. When my curiosity was fully
satisfied, I seized the rope, and with a palpitating heart passed
upward out of the bowels of the earth into the pleasant sun-
shine.

Twenty years ago it took forty days to perform a trip to
Saint Louis from Galena, and now the same trip is accom-
plished in as many hours ; then in pirogues by means of what
was called bushwhackinff, cordcling or warping, but now by
swi^'t and handsome steamers. Rare society had they at Ga-
lena in those days, and the mixture is not yet extinct. The
working men are the diggers and smelters, and then come the_
store-keepers, the black-legs and innocent gentlemen from afar,
vagabond Irish, Wolverines from Michigan, Hoosiers from In-
diana, Suckers from Illinois, Buckeyes from Ohio, Pukes from
Kentucky, and ffalf horse and Half alligators from everywi ore
on the Lower Mississippi.

•Major Campton is the name of a noted character, who once
resided at Galena, and whose hand I have shaken in a not
very distant city. He is a powerfully built man, who has
spent his whole life among the wildest of mortals, and whose
various occupations have caused him to be well known from the
banks of the Ohio to the shores of Lake Superior, where he is
now figuring in tho copper line, having made and lost a fortune
at Galena. A natural consequence of his peculiar experience
is, that he perfectly understands the art of fighting : though he
is so much of a gentleman, that he could not be called a bully.
It so happened that, while travelling in his own conveyance,
and accompanied by his wife, during a pleasant day last sum-
mer he came to a halt on the margin of a certain river, and
shouted for tho ferryman. In due time the indispensable gen-
tleman was ready, and while inquiring the news of the day, he
was suddenly smitten by a new thought, and dropping the
painter of the old scow, looked inquiringly into the major's
face, when the followhig dialogue ensued : —
"Stranger, is'nt your name Major Campton?"
"Yes, sir, it is. What business have you to transact with
me?"

IMHI, ....;•

THE LEAD KEaiON.

■ i

r,i

'h|»ii

ill

'You are the very man I have long been wanting to sec, for
you must know that I am the bully of the north."

"Indeed! What do I care for that?"

"I've liearn tell that you arc a famous fighter, and I should
like to have you give me a thrashing if you can."

" Why, man, I have nothing against you, and do not want to
make a fool of myself."

"But you shall, though, ray honey; and you don't cross this
ferry until it is decided who is cock of the walk."

Remonstrance on the part of the major was all in vain, the
ferryman was determined to fight. The major held a short
consultation with his wife, who was of course in great trouble,
, but taking off his coat and unbuttoning his straps, he stcpt out
upon a grassy spot and waited for the ferryman's attack. To
shorten a long story, the fight was a tedious one, and ended in
the total defeat of the challenger, who presented in himself,
after the struggle, an admirable picture of border heroism.
He had strength enough left, however, to ferry the champion
over the river ; and when the major offered to pay the accus-
tomed favo, tho latter held not out his hand, but making a rude
bow, he exclaimed; — ^^N^ot a dime, sir, good afternoon."

'1- HI!'

THE ALPINE REGION.

That portion of the Mississippi which extends from Prairie
Du Chien, to Lake Pepin is the most mountainous anJ truly
beautiful on the whole river, and may with strict propriuLy be
called the Alpine Region. The river hero varies from a quar-
ter to a full mile in width, and on either side throughout the
whole distance is a range of mountains which sometimes actu-
ally bend over the river, and sometimea recede into the interior
for several miles. The Mississippi hero is rather sluggish, but
translucent, and filled with islands which are covered with
every variety of forest trees found between Kentucl^ and the
Great Lakes. But the willow and the elm are pre-eminently
beautiful. Well do I remember with what delight I mused
upon the changing landscape, as our vessel glided onward and
onward into the wild and silent wilderness. The mountains of
this region are not quite so lofty as the Highlands of the Hud-
son, (to which they have been compared,) but they are far more
picturesque, fantastic, and extensive. At one moment may be
seen a cone-shaped mountain rising to the height of some eight
hundred feet, and completely covered, to the extreme summit,
with a carpet of grass ; now the eye will linger on a perpendi-
cular bluflF, pictured against the sky, like a fortress of the
Mound Builders, and apparently frowning upon the softly flow-
ing stream that laves its foliage-hidden base ; now, you sail in
the shadow of a pillared temple that seems to prop the sky :
and now, elong a continued succession of peaks and points that
fade a>vay, until lost in the rosy atmosphere of evening. Dur-
ing all this time, your vessel will be gliding around and between

TUE ALPINE REdluN.

ilii

'liii'

! ir;|;|

the most cliarming of green islands, some of them containing a
solitary grave, others a little brotherhood of Indians, lounging
upon the grasfey opening before their wigwams ; while some
happy bird will favor you with an occasional song, or the leap
of a trout take the fancy captive, to revel in the cool chambers
of the stream. Here it is, too, that the famous Island Moun-
tain rises to the height of five hundred feet, completely covered
with trees, and capped by a cluster of broken rocks. It is
several miles long and about one in width, and is the largest
island in the Mississippi. From time immemorial it has been
celebrated for the numbc "'' its rattlesnakes, and on a grassy
plot at its base stands a cluster of graves, where repose the
ashes of stranger Indians who died upon the island from wounds
inllictcd by these reptiles.

The next object that I would attempt to describe on my way

up the Mississippi, is Lake Pepin. It lives in my memory as

the Horicon of the wilderness. It is an extended portion of

the Mississippi, — twenty-three miles lortg, and from three to

four wide. It is surrounded with hills, which abound in almost

every vanjety of game ; its shores arc gravelly, abounding in

valuable agates and cornelians; the water is clear, and very

df ep, and it yields the very best of fish in great abundance.

My first view of Lake Pepin (I wish I knew how it came by

that name ! ) was on one of the most charming evenings that I

ever witnessed. The cloudless sky was studded with stars, and

the moon sailed upward and onward with an uncommon beauty,

as if proud of the wilderness world she was then flooding with

her beams. For hours did I sit musing upon the eastern shore,

near the outlet, whence I could discern no less than sixteen

peaks or blufis, looming in solitude against the horizon. "The

holy time was quiet as a nun, breathless with adoration." The

water was without a ripple, and reflected in its pure bosom

every star, while the moon, as if determined that it should so

remain forever, spanned it with a bar of gold. The only sounds

that trembled in the air were the hoot of an owl, the wail of a

loon, and a hum from the insect world. I looked and wondered,

uii'il the night was far spent, and the dew was heavy and cold.

«▼ p^

,*"■"■■'

,. ■t,m' ■■'■■■ ,*■■ V*"

;;|.»i«

,<W."'-'i .

.^^J.""

*;-;;<

■;*"•

.-.^

B,'

ij iim'

lii'iiip

1 '

lijUHM

■'l

'iO

•r<j^ *M'r *• Hx^-iifc^j,,

tt|. n

Imj iij; bird w

,11* It t'
of •! •

111'!' •

; It . »^i
1 r:»-

•/)»

„• Mootl of htllll^ll^, -Miii^inj.'

It. orr* H'^lr '^' "If., M'liic! tiuUiC

!i't.i it H, t<»o, iliMt till- liimou* 'i.-i!uii'4 .Hour.-

■ -^it ol'five l:vumu4 !V'«i,< lu.i.!' v\y • i'!

, , J b> a i;lu^v of bruk'/i 'ooks. Tt i«

»iiti iif«()Ut one in' wi.Uli, uml " ^"o !ai';;o«t

:..i.. u|r'Br !l..- MifMBsippi. Vtn\ ima iTr.moiui.rial .. la-, Irt'O

\>v tie nunib.i of id»*r:itiUs»:»kps !»ri,l on n u'rass^'

plo*>^At r.-i hai#.-t.iuil« a clust.:r of v;ravo«. whcr- vn".' Ip-

;i--^i Vr -Hi... hul'itns who'ilt .iufKMi *b(.- islamlfroM ■ •■und-

^v-,^ . - vK'it-jVoulJ atteiupt to lU'-nvilx* oi. >!iy way

v?" tD\ flilft t:i.(Mi;.ior!.«:9S. It th .,!;» (;*;*o:uIc4 portion oi
tU V lA'.^i^^-twcuty^three luD'^ •'«{», lUid fnim I'uvc t-
•ium :f^ - iJ -urryUlK^'^a -.vitli hill?, wlii J: ul,ouiul in uliuodt
,.;5^.;, X aixfcy '-■ gAD;c, i "■ '"'«• P;-'ivciij, ubouinUnK in

'valuabiv ..jpUti:.^ s»nii o^irticlian,. ; llw »^h?.i is olwu. uud very
a€«p. -iini i. yklda tW v>r^ l.fst -f tirtli in great nhn-.-iuncp.
M^' first Lv.' Oi i.JKi- Pepiu (Ittiih 1 ktuw I.'jW it ;-:»r.o !>,y
♦ hut uafOo!) jra*! un -v -.f {.!••- ." ,^', charming t^voaiii^rs that i
■«vcr v.ii,i..H5orl, Thi; cloaulovs sky was stutUlf;'! witli sIju--, nail
Ihij moon mailed upward an'l onward with ani'ncomnion beauty,
;v*» a' pr-ud of liic wdderjiCbs av»- 1'' she ^aa then flo-Mtiii^^ with
iw*> k«.w.«;-. I •'!• t.'>urs did I sit mu.'jifjii^ ujion tlic r-^'.^t'TTi sl^yr .
■,.r:v xU'1 unih'Xy wheu'.o f oouUl diftceii'. rio Icsi tiian .i.wt'"''!'
j,safe !>r ?>Ur- '•■.•■'niiig ill aolitudo against the Loriv^nn. ''Th<
;;...!•/ :>&•: «:»4 .j«wt as a nun, bv :. • 'tfe** ■wiihadorati' lu' ''*! ■
.,.i,t,*f «(i^ t«i«;>wt ft rijjide, and reaectfu in its puro I'Dsoii-
if¥i>y; ^r*-. i*ft.iV Oio inocu"a3 if del^vminid ihn!^^ if, .^hou) " ^
i' .uaiS .r-?>-, '.^d it with a -ur of gokl. The .u\y s^uuiju-

thiit tr'^.-iMva i^ ^ iv' *i3f wore tho bo-it of .m owl, iht> -"f-i' of :
looij, «^^ i.^. hni> iV^sid i^c msect \V'» ■ '. f hwko-). ami wonder^ ^<.

uu'

■'. O

■■.^^h Uu jo:vat, uuti tiiw dew ./.iis liv.ivv ard <:

a'ly '■."•'' -!''-''•

<y:k£. Tt 1*

ibe largest

i ,;, in-, ]jvvn
on a gi ;vs>5^'

frovi " "und'

ft 01. mjv '\<'!^y

iR»l in iiUviudt,
uboumlini; in

,t fitMndmiCt",
r it oamo !\Y

Ouiliitb tluit 1

fiih sliiv^, and
iiiraon bctiury;

fior.dst.^ \\'itl4
eastern s^yr %

tliaa 3i-vtft''i'

*! 'I'll.

s puro IjnaoB'
.t u, skoid' :-
ric '>idy souij't"
, t,ht» tcr.i' oi' :
aiid wofidoi'i-'.
V.1VY and ofsla

lib.

'i'

■■-/

'■m'iid

THE ALPINE REOIOK.

It was while tarrying at this lake, that the captain of our
steamer was honored by a visit from Wabashaw, or Red Leaf,
the head chief of the Sioux nation. He was attended by seve-
ral of his counsellors, and in all his movements had the bear-
ing of a proud prince. He is a young man, and said to be a
brave and eminently successful warrior. Our captain treated
him to wine, and I gave him a present of tobacco. The captain
was so pleased with the natural curiosity, as he called the chief,
that he summoned all his lady passengers tp obtain a glimpse.
The ladies soon made their appearance, and while staring at
the chief, now laughing, and now laying their hands upon his
ornaments, a most ferocious glance all at once shot from his
eye, and uttering a scornful speech, he bolted from the ring of
impudent spectators. The cause of this singular movement
was, that it is considered disgraceful f«r a Sioux chief to be
seen in company of women, or to be spoken to and stared upon
by them. The only person whose hand he would take on going
ashore was mine ; and when I happened to meet this chief on
a subsequent occasion, he treated mo with marked attention,
and presented me with a handsome pipe.

At the time that I visited Lake Pepin, there were quite a num-
ber of Sioux Indians encamped upon its shores. Among the lodges
which I visited was that of a woman, nine years of age and a
widow. She looked exceedingly wretched, but was so intelli-
gent and amiable that I almost fell in love with the old antedi-
luvian. I cannot give the whole of her long story, for it was
not all translated to me, but an idea of its character may be
obtained from the following episode, which I listened to, seated
by her side, and that of her only descendant — a handsome boy.
Her attention had been directed to our steamer, which lay
moored a short distance off, when she suddenly broke out with
the following : — " How rapidly does time fly ! A short time ago
the light canoe was the only thing that glided upon this lake ;
but now we often hear the groaning of the great fire-vessel, as
it sweeps along like an angry deer. The white man's conduct
appears strange. I cannot understand its purpose. 0, 1 am
an old woman and a fool !

MWlti.

!'■ !!

THE ALPINE REGION.

" Many, very many have been my trials. Thirty years has
my husjjand been dead. Eight brave sons have I had, but they
•were all killed in battles with the Chipptways. I also had two
daughters, who were like the doci of the prairie, but the Great
Spirit has long since taken them to the happy land. My only
relative, now living, is this boy. 0, I am an old woman, and
have ao business to live !

" But I will not despair. The Great Spirit is at my fireside,
and has given me. a helper in the dark evening of my days.
This boy-hunter supplies me with food. His arrow never fails,
and the winds always tell him where to find the sweet fish. He
paddles my canoe, he brings me wood for my fire, and he sleeps
by my side in my comfortable lodge. 0, I am an old woman !
but what is there in the world that I need, and cannot
obtain?" •

May the smiles of Providence rest upon this mother of a
great nation, whose glory is personified in ^'er feeble and de-
crepit form.

The most romantic legend, however, associated with the Mis-
sissippi Horicon, is the oft-repeated story of Winona. She was
the daughter of a chief, and lived about one hundred years ago.
She was exceedingly beautiful, and universally beloved. Her
father had promised her hand to a favorite warrior, but her
heart had been pledged to another, not less brave, but more
noble and youthful. For many months she would not listen to
the wishes of her father ; but his sterner nature was roused,
and he vowed that she must marry the object of his choice.
Weeks passed on, and she knew that she must yield. Nightly
did she meet her accepted lover, but always talked to him of
the Spirit Land, as if she had been a queen of that fantastic
realm. The marriage-night had been appointed, and the chief
had proclaimed a feast. To all outward appearance a change sud-
denly came over the daughter's mind, and she smiled and talked
like one about to be made a happy bride. Among the delica-
cies that were to be eaten on the occasion, was a certain berry
that was found in great perfection upon a certain hill or bluff.
It was a pleasant summer afternoon, and all the female friends

THE ALPINE REGION.

of Winona, accompanied by herself, were picking the desired
berries.

Carelessly did they all wander up the hill-side, while an occa-
sional laugh would ring .upon the air ; but Winona was only
seen to smile, for (though those loving friends Irnew it not) her
heart was darkened by many a strange shadow. Carelessly did
the berry-gatherers wander on ; when all at once a low melan-
choly song fell upon their ears, and lo ! upon the very edge of
a beetling precipice stood the form cf the much loved Winona.
Her song was death-like, and when her companions were in-
tuitively convinced of the contemplated deed, the^ were stupi-
: fied with horror. Winona motioned them to keep back, while
[her song increased until it became a Trail. The burthen of it

" Parewer., sisters : —
I am going to the Spirit Land ;
My warrior wil! come afler iiie,
And we shall be blessed."

One moment more, and Winona, the pride of all the Indian
villages on Lake Pepin, was deeply buried in its clear cold
I bosom. And this is the story that hallows the loftiest peak of
ithis lake. I obtained it, as here related, from one of her kin-
red, and I believe it to be true. As to Winona's warrior, it

said that he lived for many years a hermit, and finally died

madman. So runneth many a song of life.

Hill Hi »

h'iST^'^U :^fc;? iHvJinM <i-V)tr \[m'}'d \''i jr.-

jliyuiuip'l'r

, r,',.

V. . - 1

jil • ;(•( .;.i« I ;■;(>•

M .14-1 /I..'

I I

n'l';'!it?!f* it

: i

l;l

S'fs'. '^'1

ill
km

I,:

'-^"'i^::t

RED WING VILLAGE.

'> (Hi

1)'. •. f, .1- ii>

The scenery between Lake Pepin and the Saint Croix is
not as lofty nor as picturesque as that we have already passed,
but its interest is greatly enhanced by the greater number of
Indians that we here meet. The Red Wing village is nearly
iridway between the two lakes mentioned, and contains about
six hundred souls. A short distance from this place are two
isolated moiintains, whence may be seen a magnificent pano-
rama of tl'.c wi/uerness, and when viewed at sunset presents
more the appearance of dream-land than reality. These moun-
tains fiom time immemorial have been used as the oltars where
Indian war parties have offered up their sacrifices pievious to
going to battle. At the present time, however, their only in-
habitants arc rattlesnakes, -.vhich slumber on their sunny slopes
or in the clefts of the rocks during the long summer. And
thus is it throughout the world, in the wilderness as well as the
city, death and the beautiful are ever linked together in an un-
broken brotherhood.

I only remained at the Red Wing village one night, but such
a night I hope never to pass again. An outcast of a trader
had furnished the Indians with "fire-water," and the whole
po°sc of them were quite mad, for spirituous liquor always
makes the poor Indian miserably crazy. For want of a
better place, I had to sleep in the cabin of this very trader.
My bed was on the floor, while my host and his family occupied
a couple of beds in opposite corners of the only room in the
house. And such horrible yelling and screaming as I heard
during the first half of that night, I can never forget- The

ilf:

RBD WING VILLAGE.

noises were unearthly and devilish. Now, you might hear the
Clashing of knives, as some of the more desperate spirits came
together in a fight ; and now you might hear the sobbings and
moanings of a miserable woman, as she exposed and mutilated
her bovly, to perpetuate the memory of a dead husband or child.

Bui there was one incident which made my hair stand out
like the quills of the porcupine. I should premise that the few
white people of the wilderness never think of locking their
doors at night ; and also that the Indians of this 1 a gion claim
it as a privilege to enter and depart from your cabin whenever
they please, and their intrusions are always looked upon a.A
matters of course. It was somewhat after midnight, and the
yelling of the savages had partly subsided. .1 had just fallen
into a doze, when I was startled by the stealthy opening of our
cabin door and the tread of a muffled footstep. It was intensely
dark, but I knew it was an Indian, and thought that somebody
was about to be murdered. The object in the room made only
noise enough to rack my brain, and then was perfectly still. I
listened, and with hardly a breath in my body, continued to
listen, until I finally slept, and my dreams were of blood, and
blood only. The first peep of day, however, awakencfl me,
when I saw directly at my side, flat on the floor, a huge
Indian, breathing in his deep slumber like a porpoise. The
first intelligence that I heard on going out of the door was, that
one Indian had been killed dviring the night, and that another
was at, that moment in the agohies of death. As may be sup-
posed, I left the Red Wing village with pleasure.

Lake Saint Croix empties into the Mississippi, and its prin-
cipal inlet is a river of the same name whi jh rises in the vicinity
of Lake Superior. This is the valley through which the traders
and Indians have been in the habit of passing, for a century, on
their way from the western prairies to Lake Superior, and from
the lake back again to the prairies. The river has one water-
fall of uncommon beauty. The lake is about twenty-five miles
long, from two to five wide, and surrounded with charming
scenery. The water is clear, but of a rich brown color, and
well supplied with fish, of which trout are the most abundant.

Minjii!.

I:'

lit!

rMjiniii;;!!"

!-..ii|*'N

":it';

RED WING VILLAGE.

At the outlet of this lake, I visited another encampment of
the Sioux or Dacotah In<lians, where I saw a noted chief,
named Little Crow. He was a handsome man, hut both his
arms had recently been broken by a rifle ball, which was shot
by one of his own brothers, — who was envious of his station aa
chief. As a punishment for his wickedness. Little Crow had
ordered four bullets to be fired at his brother, which of course
numbered him with the dead. I saw his grave, and his wife
wailing over it, like one sorrowing without hope.

From Lake Saint Croix to the Sairt Peter's River, the
banks of the Mississippi are steep, and about one hundred and
fifty feet in height. The river is here studded with islands
whose shadowy recesses are cool during the hottest weather ;
and I imagine a more delightful region for the botanist to ram-
ble cannot be elsewhere found. The water is clear as crystal,
and its bosom is generally covered with water-fowl, from the
graceful snow-white swan to the mallard and wood-duck. Iso-
lated Indian wigwau: 3 are frequently seen here, pitched on the
margin of the stream, and at the foot of vine-covered preci-
pices.

. But there are three landscape views connected with this por-
tion of the Mississippi, which I thought magnificent. I witnessed
them all during a single afternoon, and in the light of a mellow
sunshine. The first was of a rolling prairie that faded away to
the western sky, until its outline was lost in the hazy atmos-
phere. Not a solitary tree did I behold, but a sea of grass,
that was delightfully relieved with flowers of every variety of
shape and color. Occasionally a breeze would puss across the
scene, causing unnumbered tiny billows to quiver over the sur-
face of mightier ones, which seemed to be careering onward to
some unknown shore. Covering the foreground of this picture
might be seen an immense flock of grouse, feeding, or chasing
each other in sport ; and then, an occasional prairie squirrel as
it sat at the entrance of its hole; while in the jiiddle distance
a nhber wolf glided over one of the ridges of the prauio, with
his %:m pictured against the sky. The lone lost feeling which
pos6 ,ssed me, when I thought of the great prairie-world then

J?S

iiliii;:i

RED WING VILLAGE.

impment of
oted chief,
lit both his
ch was shot
is station aa
Ic Crow had
sh of course
ind his wife

River, the

liundred and
with islands
est weather ;
anist to ram-
ir as crystal,
wl, from the
1-duck. Iso-
itched on the
overcd preci-

with this por-
I witnessed
it of a mellow
faded away to
e hazy atmos-
sea of grass,
cry variety of
;dss across the
• over the sur-
inc onward to
of this picture
ng, or chasing
irie squirrel as
liddlo distance
M prauie, with
t feeling which
ric-world then

lying before me, I cannot describe ; it was composed of delight
and melancholy, of confidence and fear.

Another picture which I witnessed from a commanding hill
top, was an untrodder< nlderness of woods, reaching to the ex-
treme horizon on the north. Owing to my elevated position
the forest-world appeared level, and, excepting one barren
ledge, was without an object to Uiir the monotony of the scene.
On that ledge, however, with the aid of my glass, I could just
discern the dead body of some animal, with a black bear re-
clining at its bide, as if sated with his feast ; while in his
neigh!>orhoo(l were standing some thirty crows in a state of de-
lightful anticipation.

The other scene alluded to was witnessed from the lofty bluff
that fronts the mouth of the Saint Peter's River. Far beneath
my feet glided the majestic Mississippi; — on my right stood
the handsome and commanding barracks of Fort Snelling, sur-
mounted by the stars nnrl -^tripes; on my left, the naked peak
of the Pilot s Nob, with a cluster of trading-houses at its base ;
directly before me, winding away like a mighty seruent between
a multitude of islands, lay the deep and turbid Saint Peter's
River ; and far beyond — far as the eye couid reach — the prairie
land, whose western boundary is the Rocky Mountains.

The landscape was indeed glorious, and there was something
to gratify my national pride in the flag that fluttered in the
breeze ; but when I thought of the buaineaa of that Fort, and
t\\e end for which the people of the hamlet were living in the
wilderness, the poetry of the scene was marred, and I ^onged to
dive still deeper in the wild world which reposed so peacefully
before me.

Mli.

THE FALLS OF SAINT ANTHONY.

■ u\f

''iEi''

■ li.

St il|*"fm)

,. • 'fljf'iil;'

'''■''itiSii;"

The hamlet of Saint Peter is at the mouth of the* Saint
Peter's River, at the head of steamboat navigation on the
Mississippi. My sojourn here has been interesting from many
circum^itances. I feel that I am on the extreme verge of the
civilized world, and that all beyond, to the ordinary traveller,
is a mysterious wilderness ; and every object which attracts
my attention is made doubly entertaining by the polite atten-
tions I receive from several gentlemen connected with Fort
Snelling and the Fur Company.

In this vicinity I first saw an extensive encampment of Sioux
or Dacotah Indians, M'ho had, within six miles of the Fort, no
less than three large villages. This, as is well known, is one
of the most peculiar and savage tribes of the northwest, and
as I happen to be here during their gala season, I have had
an opportunity of being present at some of their feasts and
games.

On one occasion it was announced throughout the village
that the Indians were to have a Dog Feast, in which none but
the bravest and most distinguished of the warriors are allowed
to participate. The idea that lies at the bottom of this rite is,
that by eating of a dog's liver the heart is made strong. The
feast took place on the open prairie, in the afternoon, and was
attended by about one hundred men, while there must have
been a thousand spectators. The first step in the ceremony
was for the Indians to seat themselves in a circle around a
large pole, and devote a few moments to smoking. Their only
article of clothing was the clout, and their only weapon a long

TBE FALLS OF SAINT ANTHONY.

iNY.

)f the* Saint
tion on the
1 from many
verge of the
iry trareUcr,
hich attracts
polite attcn-
ed with Fort

nent of Sioux
the Fort, no
known, is one
orthwest, and
n, I have had
;ir feasts and

ut the village

rhich none hut

rs are allowed

of this rite is,

strong. The
noon, and was
ere must have

the ceremony
ircle around a
Their only
weapon a long

knife, while their heads were decorated with death-trophies,
and their bodies encircled by a belt from which hung all the
scalps the wearers had taken. Suddenly a whoop was given,
and the whole party commenced dancing to the monotonous
music of a drum. Then broke upon the ear the howl, and in a
moment more the dying groan of a dog from without the circle
of dancers. The carcass vtas thrown into their midst by a
woman. A chorus of deaVening yells resounded through the
air, the dog was immediately opened, his liver taken out, sus-
pended to the pole by a string, and the dance resumed. A
moment had hardly elapsed, however, before the dancers, one
after another, stepped up and took a bite of the yet warm and
quivering liver. Soon as this was all eaten, another dog was
thrown into the ring, and the same horrible ceremony repeated ;
and so they continued until the carcasses of several dogs were
lying at the foot of the pole in the centre of the dancing crowd.
Another human howl ascended tc the sky, and the feast was
ended. All the while the river flowed peacefully onvfard,
and the mellow sunlight bathed in its own hues the illimitable
prairie.

I have also had an opportunity of witnessing in this place

ihe Indian mode of playing ball. There is nothing exclusive

this game, and every male Indian who is sufficiently active

ay take a part therein. It sometimes lasts for several days,
and when I witnessed it, was played by two companies or bands,
of about one hundred and fifty individuals each. The balls used
are formed of a deer-skin bag, stuffed with the hair of that ani-
mal and sewed with its sinews. The clubs are generally three
feet long, and have at the lower end a sinewy netting, suffi-
ciently large to hold the ball, and each player is furnished with
one of these clubs. With tjiese they catch and throw the ball,
and though they are not allowed to touch it with their hands,
it is sometimes kept from once touching the ground for a whole
afternoon. The station of each party is marked by a pole, on
a line with which the players stand, just before beginning the
[game. The poles are usually about five hundred yards apart.
I The ball first makes its appearance midway between the par*

hK-

i:: ;:•"■•■ I

I Hi i,.

"i' u4i

'li'?ii'ii

i«

luHIII

^!i3li';:

THE PALLS OP SAINT ANTHONT,

ties, to which point a most furious rush is made, and the object
to bo attained 'm, for the player to t'-row the ball outside his
own line of standing.

The Olympic beauty of this game is beyond all praise. It
calls into active exercise every muscle of the human frame, and
brings into bold relief the supple and athletic forms of perhaps
the best built people in the world. The only ornaments worn
are of paint and marked all over the body, which, with the
usual exception, is entirely naked. At one time a figure will
rivet your attention similar to the Apollo Belvidcre, and at
onother, you will be startled by the surpassing elegance of a
Mercury. The only music that accompanies the game is a cho-
rus of wild clear laughter. The only drawbaci: connected with it
is the danger of getting your legs broken, or the breath knocked
out of your body, which are calamities that frequently happen.

There arc not many particulars with regard to manners and
habits wherein the Sioux Indians differ from their surrounding
brethren. Living, as they mostly do, in a vast prairie region,
their favorite and principal mode of travelling is on horseback;
and away from the larger rivers, you will find them possessed
of the finest horses, which they love and protect with true Ara-
bian affection. They arc of course admirable horsemen, and
very expert in hunting the buffalo. They arc cruel and vin-
dictive towards their enemies, and have, from time immemorial,
been at war with their neighbors of the north and west ; and
their hatred of the white man seems to be a cherished emotion
of their nature. Physically speaking, they arc a noble race of
men and women, but universally considered as the Ishmaelites
of the wilderness. Speaking of these Indians, reminds me of
their pictorial historian, Capt. Seth Eastman. This gentleman
is an officer in the army, and an artist of ability. He is a
native of Maine, has been in the service about eighteen years,
and stationed at Fort Snelling for the last five. All his lei-
sure time has been devoted to the study of Indian character,
and the portraying upon canvass of their manners and customs,
and the more important fragments of their history. The Sioux
tribes have attracted the most of his attention, although

•,i

it s:

Si '^'^1'.

>''ii.

THE FALLS OF SAINT ANTHONY.

d the object
outside his

praise. It
1 frame, and
.8 of perhaps
amenta worn
ich, with the
a figure will
iderc, and at
ileganco of a
;aine is a cho-
nected with it
rcath knocked
jntly happen.

manners and
r surrounding
irairic region,
on horseback ;
hem possessed
with true Ara-
horscmen, and
cruel and vin-
nc immemorial,
and west; and
rishcd emotion
a noble race of
the Ishmaelites
reminds me of
This gentleman
jility. He is a
eighteen years,
e. All his lei-
idian character,
ers and customs,
ory. The Sioux
ntion, although

''M

',)

lie has not neglected the Chippowas, and ho has done much
to make us acquainted with the Sominoles of Florida, where
he was, formerly, stationed for several years. Excepting
a few, which he has occasionally presented to his friends,
all that ho ever painted are now in his possession, and it was
ray good fortune to spend many agreeable hours admiring their
beanties. The collection now numbers about four hundred
pieces, comprising every variety of scenes, from the grand
Medicine Dance to the singular and affecting Indian Grave.
When the extent and character of this Indian gallery are con-
sidered, it must be acknowledged the most valuable in the
country, not even excepting that of George Catlin. But what
adds greatly to the interest called forth by these pictures is the
«se to which they are to be applied. Instead of being used as
a travelling exhibition to accumulate gold, this gallery is to bo
presented to a distinguished college, from which the artist will
only demand the education of his children. There is something
in this movement so foreign to the sordid passion of our age,
and so characteristic of the true spirit of art, that the heart is
thrilled with pleasure as we remember the Americnn soldier*
artist of the wilderness.

I have also had the pleasure of meeting at this point M. La-
iiaarre Piquo, the distinguished French natuntlist fiom Paris.
!fie has been in the Indian country upwards of a year, and is
;o remain some months longer. He is on a professional tour,
collecting specimens in every department of natural history,
and for that purpose is constantly wandering along the rivers,
[fthrough the woods, and over the prairies of the north-west,
with no companions but Half-breeds or Indians. He seems to
be a passionate lover of his science, and the appearance of his
temporary store-room or museum is unique and interesting.
Here, an immense buffalo stares at you with its glassy eyes,
while just above itj pinned to the wall, may be seen a collection
of curious beetles, butterflies, and other insects ; then an elk
and a deer will display their graceful forms, while at their feet
will be coiled up the rattlesnake, the adder, and other frightful
serpents ; here the otter, the beaver, the fox, the wolf, the bear,

iMMIIt *

p-m^

i ':^il|

JIt'll

'ii!*"Ih((,

film

41 THE FALLS OP SAINT ANTBORt.

and other native animals ; there a complete flock of Trob-foote<]
creatures, from the wild swan and pelican, to the common
duck ; hero an eagle and hawk, a partridge and scarlet-bird ',
and there, embalmed in spirit, a tast tariety of curious reptiles.
M. Lamarre Piquo belongs to that honorable class of scho^
lars, whose labors tend to doTolop the resources of onr country,
and among whom we And such men as Wilson, Audubon, Silli-
man, and Houghton.

Among the natural beauties associated with St. Peter ought
not to be forgotten Carver's Cave, the Cascade Waterfall, the
Lakes, and the Pilot's Nob. The cave is about four miles bc'
low, and was named after Carver, who was the first white man
that explored it thoroughly ; its Indian name, however, was
Wahon-teebe, which means dwelling of the Great Spirit. The
entrance to it is on the brink of the river, five feet high and
about twif^e as wide ; and the arch within is not far from fifteen
feet high and twenty broad. The bottom is covered with sand,
which slopes down to a lake of pure water, the opposite boun*
dary of which has never been visited. On one of the inner
sides, not far from the entrance, are quite a number of Indian
hieroglyphics, partly covered with the moss of by-gone cen-
turies.

About two miles north of St. Peter there empties into the
Mississippi a small river, the parent of a most beautiful water-
fall, called the Laughing Water. The stream is perhaps fifty
feet wide, and aft'jr a wayward passage across the green prui^
rie, it finally comes to a precipice of more than one hundred
feet deep, and in an unbroken sheet discharges its translucent
treasure into the pool below. So completely hidden by a mass
of foliage is this fall, that you would pass it by unnoticed, were
it not for its ever-murmuring song, and the clouds of ascending
spray.

The Lakes in the neighborhood of St. Peter, on the bosom
of the prairie, number some four or five, the most conspicuous
of which are Harriet and Calhoun. They are not deep, but
clear, abound in fish, and encircled with sand. The Pilot's
Nob 18 a grass-covered peak, commanding a magnificent series

THB FALLS OP SAINT ANTHONY.

f veb-footcd
the common
Bcarlct-bird }
iouB reptiles,
lass of 8cho^•
' onr country,
adubon, Silli-

. Petor ought
^Vaterfall, the
four miles be-
rst white man
however, was
i Spirit. The
feet high and
"ar from fifteen
•red with sand,
opposite boun-

of the inner
fiber of Indian

by-gone con-

apties into the
eautiful water-
is perhaps fifty
the green prai-
n one hundred
its translucent
,dden by a mass
unnoticed, were
ids of ascending

r, on the bosom
lost conspicuous
re not deep, but
,d. The Pilot'9
agnificent series

of views. To the west lies a boundless prairie ; to the north
and south the fantastic valley of the Mississippi ; and to the
east a wilderness of forest and prairie, apparently reaching to
the shores of Michigan. But let us pass on '-o the Falls of St.
Anthony, which arc a few miles above St. Peter.

These falls are more famous than remarkable. They were
first visited by Father Hennepin in 1689, who gavo them their
present name, out of respect to his patron saint. Their origi-
nal name, in the Sioux language, was Owah-Mdhah, meaning
falling water. They owe their reputation princip'^Uy to the
fact that they "veto" the navigation of the Upper Riississipp*.
Ihcy are surrounded with prairie, and therefore easily ap-
Broached from every direction. The river here is perhaps half
p mile wide, and the entire height of the fulls, including t('v!
Upper and lower rapids, is said to measure some twenty-fi\ 5 oi
ihirty feet, and they aro consequently without an imposing fca-
?>ure. The line of the tails is nearly straight, but broken near
the centre by a large island, and just below this arc no less
than seven smaller but more picturesque islands, which are
looked down upon by steep bluffs on either side of the river,
or half a mile before the waters make their plunge, they
|lide swiftly across a slanting, but perfectly flat bed of rock ;
d after they have reached the lower level, they create a sheet
ff foam, as if venting their wrath upon the rocks which impede
their progress; but in a few moments they nii,Vi,'',ir themselves
to sleep, and then glide onward in peace towuz<l the far distant
Ocean.

These falls seem to be the grand head quarters for the eagles
ind buBzards of the wilderness, wh'cb congregate here in great
umbers. At one moment a hungry individual might bo seen,
ruggling with a bass or trout, directly in the pure foam ; and
en another, with well-filled crop, high up in heaven, would
floating on his tireless pinions. At another time, too, you
ght see a crowd of them hovering over the body of some
ating animal which had lost its life while attempting to cross
e upper rapids, and exciting indeed was the conflict between
«se warriors of the air.

!i;,; I '•■

,..., f

|r" ""'■'" "I'll!

'iniiii'

THE FALLS OF SAINT ANTHONY.

Associated with the Falls of St. Anthony is the following
Indian legend. A Chippewa woman, the daughter of a chief,
and the wife of a warrior, had been cruelly treated by her
faithless husband. She was not beautiful, but young and
proud, and the mother of a lovely daughter-child. Goaded to
the quick by repeated wrongs, she finally resolved to release
herself from every trouble, and her child from evrl friends, by
departing for the Spirit Land, and the falls were to be the gate-
way to that promised heaven. It was an Indian summer even-
ing, and nature was hushed into a deep repose. The mother
and her child were alone in their wigwam, within sight and
hearing of the falls, and the father was absent on a hunting
expedition. The mother kissed and caressed her darling, and
then dressed it with all the ornaments in her possession, while
from her own person she rejected every article of clothing
which she had received from her husband, and arrayed herself
in richer garments which she had made with her own hands.
She then obtained a full-blown lily, and crushing its petals and
breaking its stem, she placed it on a mat in the centre of her
lodge, as a memorial of her wrongs. All things being ready,
she seized the child, hastened to the river, launched her frail
canoe, and in a moment more wa° floating on the treacherous
stream. According to a universal Indian custom, she sang a
wild death song, — for a moment her canoe trembled on the
brow of the watery precipice, and in an instant more the mo-
ther and child were forever lost in the foam below.

■'] :.!'

11-11'

t !»

Wit

A RIDE ON HORSEBACK.

My mode of travelling, from the Falls of St. Anthony to

row-Wing river, was on horseback. I obtained my animal

, ^f a Frenchman, who accompanied me as a guide. There

was no regular road to follow, but only a w^ell-beaten trail,

which ran, for the most part, along the eastern bank of the

4 Mississippi, where lie a succession of prairies and oak-openings.

+ We were each furnished with a blanket, a small stock of bread

and pork, ammunition and a gun. Our ponies were young

nd fleet, and mine was particularly easy and graceful in his

movements. The day was scorching hot, but I was so anxious

proceed that I ventured out, and by six o'clock we were on

ur winding way.

A few hours had elapsed without meeting with a single
idventure, when I fixed my eyes upon my gun, (which then
teemed to be about six times as heavy as when we startled,)
nd began to wonder whether I was not in a fair way of illus-
rating Dr. Franklin's story of the whistle. But before I had
chance even to cast a look behind, I was startled by the
eport of my companion's gun, when lo ! just in the shadow of
neighboring thicket, I saw a large buck make two frightful
caps and then drop to the earth quite dead. In a very few
oments the two hind quarters of the animal were enveloped
n his hide, and strapped to my friend's saddle ; the tune of
y intentions was changed, and after taking a lunch of bread
e continued on our journey.

Our route, during the afternoon, lay over a portion of the
M-airie that was alive with grouse. My guide considered them

Iliiiliai....-'""'^''

» ■

LmiiI

|rr;!«:'ib,„|,j

'■ li,

:;. ■ -.• 1 A}

g';|i;!|i"i''i;«ii

-V' If''""'"

'■ "l*"fs,

'i iOliili

A RIDE OK HORSEBACK.

unworthy game for his gun and skill, and left me to enjoy the
sport alone. I had no dog to point them, but my horse was so
well trained to shoot from, that he answered very well as a
substitute. I only had to ride into the midst of a flock, frighten
them, bang away, and dismount and pick them up. And this
was the manner in which I spent the "lucid intervals" of our
frequent "halts," by way of resting myself, and keeping cool.
At sunset I had, fastened to my saddle, upwards of thirty
prairie birds. ...»..._-... ;., , ^ , ■

We were now on the margin of a handsome stream, in a
natural meadow, and as wo found it necessary to feed and rest
our horses, we gave them some water, hobbled them, and
turned them at large. In the mean time we amused ourselves
by cooking and enjoying a portion of our game, and that was
my first supper in the wilderness. We roasted our meat on
one stick, while just above it with another stick we melted a
slice of pork, for the sake of its salty drippings. We dis-
patched a comfortable quantity of venison, with an occasional
mouthful of pork and bread, and used the brains, legs, and
breast of a grouse, for dessert. Our beverage consisted of
the purest water, which we quaffed in a position approaching
to the horizontal, though our heels were somewhat nearer
heaven than our heads. We concluded our repast with an
hour's snooze, and by the light of a thousand stars, saddled
our horses once more, and resumed our journey.

It was a cool, calm, cloudless night, and we were the only
human beings on a prairie which appeared to be illimitable. I
was informed, however, that a little speck that caught my eye
far to the westward, was the cabin of an Indian trader, whose
nearest neighbor, with one exception, was fifty miles off; also
that the place was the Mississippi (which we had left for a
time) and was known as Little Rock. As I was a good deal
fatigued, the poetry of that unique ride did not make much of
an impression upon me. I tried to muster a little sentiment
on the occasion, but just as it was about to manifest itself in
words, my head would suddenly drop upon my shoulder heavier
than a clod ; and like a feeble, flickering lamp, my senses

A ^'::

;f!

A RIDE ON HORSEBACK.

e to enjoy the
r horse was so
ery well as a
flock, frighten
ip. And this
jrvals" of our
keejnng cool.
irds of thirty

stream, in a

feed and rest
ed them, and
used ourselves

and that was
I our meat on
k we melted a
ngs. We dis-

an occasional
ains, legs, and
;e consisted of
m approaching
ncwhat nearer
repast with an

stars, saddled

wero the only
illimitahle. I
caught my eye
I trader, whose
miles off; also
had left for a
as a good deal
t make much of
little sentiment
mifest itself in
houlder heavier
,mp, my senses

would revive, only to he lulled again into a doze and nod. But
this sleepy state of things was not to last forever. It so hap-
pened that we discovered directly in our pathway a solitary
wolf, which was snuffing the ground as if on the scent of some
feeble creature that would afford him a hearty feast. He was an
ugly-looking rascal, and called forth from ray companion a
bitter curse. At his suggestion we dismounted, and with our
guns cocked, approached the wolf, using our horses as a kind
i of shield. We had approached within a reasonable shot of the
[animal, when it suddenly started ; but seeing nothing but two
horses, it paused, pricked up its ears, and seemed to be whet-
ting its appetite for a supper of horse-flesh. In a moment,
however, the signal was given, and the two heavy charges of
our guns were lodged in the body of the wolf, which was at
that instant eupj osed to be in a precarious condition ; and
jjhaving seen him die, and t^ken off his hide, we once more
toounted our faithful ponies.

Our excitement having subsided, we gradually fell into a

drowsy state that was "heavier, deadlier than before." But

from this we were also roused, by the tramp or pattering

'.of feet in our rear. We looked, and behold ! a herd of wolves

ere coming towards us on the run. Our horses took fright

nd became unmanageable. The prairie devils were now al-

•inost upon us, when our horses became alarmed and away they

.?^^!ran, swift as the breeze that suddenly burst upon the plain.

:0t was not long before we left our enemies far out of sight,

r-d at the very moir.ent the day was breaking we reached the

jnouth of Crow- Wing river. My companion managed to retain

ihis venison, but when I came to count my birds, I found only

five remaining, the balance having unintentionally been left

bpon the prairie as food for the robbers of the wilderness.

;l>: I

Nil... - -i-

CROW-WING.

re,

'f.

i 3 ■ a

'*^-: ; !

!"ji I

|,|tlH"

llll»"'ll,l

"Ml,

:],i|iii"«

The spot thus designated is beautifully situated on the easi
side of the Mississippi, directly at the mouth of the river
known by that name. It is here that the trader Allan Mor-
rison resides, whose reputation as an upright, intelligent, and
noble-hearted man, is co-extensive with the entire wilderness of
the northwest. He is a Scotchman by birth, somewhat advanced
in life, and has resided in the Indian country for thirty-five
years. He possesses all the virtues of the trader and none of
his vices. He is the worthy husband of a worthy Indian wo-
man, the affectionate father of a number of bright children,
and the patriarch of all the Chippewa Indians, who reside on
the Mississippi. Around his cabin and two rude store-houses,
at the present time, are encamped about three hundred Indians^
who are visiting him, and I am informed that hia guests, during
the summer, seldom amounted to less than one hundred. And
this is the place where I have passed several of the most truly
delightful days that I ever experienced. It is at this peint
that I am to embark in a canoe, during my summer tour will'
Morrison, (accompanied by his unique suite,) who is to be my
guide, counsellor, and friend, while I wander, according to my
own free will, over the lake region of the extreme Upper Mis-
sissippi. The particular canoe in which I am to embark, ui*3
been made by a Frenchman under my own eye. The process,
though simple, was to me most interesting. Birch-bark, cedar
slats, and willow thongs were the only articles used ; but the
first was dried, the second seasoned, and the latter was used in
its green state.

Crow- Wing is not only one of the most delightfully locatcu

CROW-WING.

elightfuUy located

nooks in the world, but it is rich in historical and legendary

associations. A fiimous battle was once fought here, between

the Chippewas and Sioux. A party of the latter had goie up

Crow-Wing river for the purpose of destroying a certain Chip-

ewa village. They found it inhabited only by women and

hildrcn, every one of whom they murdered in cold blood, and

onsumed their wigwams. It so happened that the Chippewa

aniors had been expecting an attack, and had consequently

tatioriud themselves in deep holes on a high bank of the river

,t Crow-Wing, intending to fall upon the Sioux party on their

ay up the river. But they were most sadly disappointed.

hile watching for their enemies, they were suddenly startled

a triumphant shout that floated down the stream. In per-

ct agony they looked, when lo ! the very party that they

re after, came into full view, shouting with delight and toss-

g up the scalps which they had taken. Many a Chippewa

avc recognized the glossy locks of his wife or child, and knew

is gloomiest anticipations to be true. They remained in am-

sh for a few moments longer, and when the enemy came

ithin reach of their arrows, every one of tham waa killed,

[hile their canoes, plunder, and bodies were suffered to float

wn the stream unmolested ; and the pall of night rested

n uic hills, the glens, the waveless river, and the Chippe-

camp.

mong the many legends associated with Crow-Wing is one
ut a white Pantncr, whose home was here when the world
lung. That Panther was the Prophet of a certain Chip-
wa tribe, and had power to speak the Chippewa language,
young brave was anxious to revenge the death of a brother,
d hod sought the oracle to learn the success of his intended
pedition. The Panther told him that he must not go, but
it until a more propitious season. But the young man headed
party, and went; and every one of his followers was killed —
mself escaping by the merest chance. Thinking that the
nthcr had caused this calamity, he stole upon this creature
slaughtered it, in the darkness of midnight. 'The dying
rds of the oracle were — " Cruel and unhappy warrior, I doom

|iiimu..'-!"4"i[

CROW-WING.

llMlltd

4iJ

im. «""'m|!j

(!'J.

^I'ljlfiSil'lMllnSll

ii!»"'!'"

% ilUlHIl,,

thee to wa'.k the earth forever, a starv)i>;u an*] undj'iig shna-
ton." Ant' it is said that this spectre naa, w' - lever the uiooa
is vir-ged with red, or the aurora borcaiiS iUoih the pky ivj,L
purple, may be seen llUtinp; in solitude along tuo br.aks of iK ■
Mississippi.

Crow-Wing it; the Wiu'j.or of the wilderness, for it is the
nominal hou;>! of the head Chief of the Chippowa nation. IIi>«
name is Holc-in-the-day, and I had fii«|ucnt oppurluniaes ci
vitiitiiJg him in Ms lodge, lie is about sixty yeans of age, and
a remurkably haiidsorae man. IJo is storn and brav^', ''jut nicin,
viin, treacherous and cruel. lie is in the habit of resorting
to iuo most contemptible tricks, for the purpose of obtaining
iv'iisky, with which ho always makos a beast of hims(>lf. lie
58 ^;onstantly in the habit of talking about himself, and exhibit-
ing the oilicial papers which he has roocivcd from the Govern-
ment in making treaties. The follo>\ing was the most famous
of his deeds, and one that he had the )iardihood to boast of as
something creditable. He and some six warriors, while on a
hunting tour, were hospitably entertained in a Sioux lodge,
where resided a family of seventeen persons. The two nations
were at peace, and for a time their intercourse had been quite
friendly. On leaving his host, Ilolc-in-thc-day shook him cor-
dially by the hand, with a smile upon his countenance, and
departed. At midnight, when the Sioux family were reveling
in their peaceful dreams, Ilole-in-the-day and his men retraced
their steps, and without a reasonable provocation fell upon the
unprotected family and cruelly murdered every member, even
to the lisping babe. And it was in the lodge of this titled
leader, that I spent whole hours in conversation, and from whom.
I received a present, in the shape of a handsome red-stone pipe.
It is indeed a singular fact, that the most interesting and in-
telligent nation of the West should be ruled by such an unwor-
thy chief as Ilolc-in-the-day.

A word now about his household. lie is the husband of two
wives, who pursued, while I was present, their various avoca-
tions in studied silence. Each of them presented me with a
pair of moccasins, and placed before me whole mocucks of

,.- H,

CROW-WINO.

for it is the
nation. IIi<<
)oriuhiiics CI
s of age, and
.vo, ^jut mean,
; of resorting

of obtaining
himsqlf. He
', and exhibit-
1 the Govern-
( most famous
to boast of as
rs, while on a

Sioux lodge,
c two nations
id been quite
hook him cor-
iitenancc, and
were reveling

men retraced

foil upon the
member, even

of this titled
nd from whom,
•ed-stone pipe,
jsting and in-
ach an unwor-

lusband of two
k'arious avoca-
ted me with a
e mooucks of

maple sugar. In passing I might remark, that when the In-
dians are hard pushed for flour or game, they will resort to
their sugar, upon which they can live for days, and which they
consider the most wholesome of food. The children that.swarraed
about the chief's lodge, I wa ^ unable to number. His eldest
son and successor I frequently met, and found him to be quite
a Brummol of the woods. The following story gave me a
glimpse of his character. Some months ago, the idea had en-
tered his head that his father was jealous of his increasing pop-
ularity among the people. He was seriously aficctcd by it,
nd in a fit of anger resolved to starve himself to death. His
riends laughed at him, but to no purpose. Ho left his home,
marched into the woods and ascended a certain hill, (called
Look-Out hill, and used from time immemorial, by the Indians,
as a point " om which to watch the movements of their enemies
cendinp' or descending the Mississippi,) ^vhcrc he remained
lour doys without a particle of food. He was only rescued
■rom death by the timely discovery of his friends, who took
im away by force, and actually crammed some nourishment
own his throat.
But my Crow-Wing stories are not all related yet. I here
w alive and quite happy, a warrior who Avas once scalped in a
irmish on the northern shore of Red Lake. His enemies left
kim on the ground as dead, but wonderful to relate, he gradu-
ally recovered, and is now as well as anybody, but hairless, of
|ourse, and wears upon his head a black silk handkerchief,
he summer after this event ho was hunting buffalo in the
ioux country, when he had another fight with two Indians,
oth of whom he succeeded in butchering, and one of those
cry men was the identical Sioux who had taken his sculp a
w months before.

During my sojourn here, I have had frequent opportunities
if witnessing the Indian mode of swimming. To speak within
unds, there must be some sixty boys at Crow- Wing, who
ijoy a swim about every hour. When not in the water, they
e hard at work playing ball, and all in the sweltering sun-
ine, with their ragged looking heads entirely uncovered, and

Nii"""

*»ii|ii

ii'

in'ti |)

•; .if i3i'"f '''"'"'!!!!

. l.ihiiiHii

p-.-'f"! ,

':,■ . I lllllliir,,,

!""'^'^'''^'^;i

IS' H, 1:

CROW-WING.

their bodies almost nnkcd. Just as soon as the child is loosen-
ed from its prison cradle, it is looked upon as a fit candidate
for any number of duckings, which are about its only inherit-
ance. These children are just as much at home in the water
as ai full-fledged duck. They swim with great rapidity, always
extending one arm forward, like a bowsprit, and holding the
other closely at the side. They are so expert in diving that
when a number arc pursuing a particular individual, and that
one happens to dive, the Avholc of them will follow after, and
finally all come up fifty or a hundred yards off. To bring up a
pebble from a hole twenty feet deep 'n looked upon as n very
common feat. This art seems to be inherent in their nature,
and is the gift of a Avise Providence ; — for all their journeys
arc performed on the water, and their canoes aro as frail as
frailty itself. It is very seldom that we hear of an Indian
being drowned.

The only Indian ceremony I have witnessed at this place is
called the Begging Dance. A large party of brave warriors
had como to pay their white father (Mr. Mon-ison) a disin-
terested visit, but as they were nearly starved, they said not a
word, but immediately prepared themselves for the dance, that
is universally practised throuj^fhout the nation. It was night,
and all the people of Crow-Wing were stiitioned in a large circle
before Morrison's door ; while one swarthy form held aloft a
birchen torch, which completed such a picture as Avas never
equaled upon canvas. The everlasting drum, and rattling of
" dry bones," commenced their monotonous music ; when the
most ridiculously dressed man that I ever beheld, stepped out
from, the crowd and commenced dancing, keeping time with a
guttural hum. Upon his head was a peaked woollen hat, and
his flowing hair was filled and entangled with burs. On hi?
back he wore the remnant of an ancient military coat, and on
one leg the half of a pair of breeches, while his other propel-
ling member was besmeared with mud. In one hand he held
the empty skin of a skunk, and in the other the gaunt body of
a dead crane. Immediately after this rare specimen, appeared
in regular succession about twenty more dressed in the same

OROW-WXNQ.

liild is looscn-
b fit candidate

only inherit-
3 in tho water
pidity, always
1 holding the
in diving that
dual, and that
low after, and
To bring up a
ipon as a very
I their nature,
their journeys
iro as frail as

of an Indian

it this place is
brave warriors
rison) a disin-
hey said not a
the dance, that
It was night,
n a large circle
•m held aloft a
! as was never
nnd rattling of
ic ; when the
Id, stepped out
n<r time with a

oollcn hat, and
burs. On hi?
ry coat, and on
.3 other propcl-
> hand he held
B gaunt body of
3in.en, appeared
ed in the same

manner, and when all out, their dancing capers were even more
uncouth and laughable than their personal appearance. The
object of all this was to exhibit their abject poverty, and create
a 1 atmosphere of good nature ; and it was their method of ask-
ing Mr. Morrison for food. Soon as ho had supplied them with
flour and pork, they ceased dancing, seized tho booty, and de-
parted for their wigwams to enjoy a feast. On the following
I day, this band of gentlemen made their appearance, painted,
jand decked out in most splendid style, with the feathers, rib-
S|,bons, scarlet leggins, and other ornaments which they had kept
^hidden until after the dance and feast were ended.

I have as yet accomplished but little in tho way of hunting;
that is, but little for this region. On one occasion I killed
seven fine looking ducks, which turned out, however, to be unfit
to eat, as they were of the dipper species, and a little too fishy
CA en for my taste ; at one time I killed twenty-five pigeons ;
*fit another, about a dozen grouse ; and last of all a couple of
' ''^j'oung coons. The latter game, I would remark, afforded one
of the most delectable of feasts.

But in the way of fishing, tho waters about Crow-Wing have
treated me to some of the rarest of sport. The Mississippi at
lis point contains a great variety of fish of the mullet and
''5|ucker genus, but tho only two desirable kinds are the muska-
lounge and a very largo pike. I tried tome of these with a fine
took hidden in a frog, but I could not tempt them in that way.
'X^w fashionable mode for taking them is with a spear, by torch-
•|Ught, and during half the hours of one night I performed the
Dart of a devotee to fashion. My pilot was an Indian, and we
rent in a birchen canoe, using birch-bark for a torch. There
rere quite a number of canoes out that night, and the gliding
jibout of tho various torches, the wild shores, tho ever-varying
l)ed of the river, and my own occasional struggle with an ira-
lense fish, — conspired to throw me into a nervous state of ex-
citement which has not entirely left me at the present moment,
did think of mentioning the number of prizes that were
iken on that memorable night, but my modesty forbids; I
ill only say that I saw extended on the shore a muska-lounge

iWilti

■ .1 :iiii

cnow-wiNO.

that weighed thirty-seven pounds, and a pike that almost weigh-
ed twenty-four.

Two miles cast of Morrison's house is a little lake, somo four
miles in circumference, which is said to contain no other fisli
than black h.iss. My own experience tells me that this report
is true. I aiif^lcd along its sandy shores a number of times,
and could take nothing hul bass. They were small, weighin;,'
about a pound, of a dark green color on the back, sides a bril-
liant yellow, and belly white. I took them with a lly, and to
the palate found thorn delicious eating.

^'1

5 1 ' 1:1

1>-,

[WMliil} '

'■' ill ■ " ' ■

THE INDIAN TRADER.

TnE Indian trader belongs to the aristocracy of tho wildcr-

less. His business is to barter with tho Indians for their furs,

IB the agent of some established fur company. lie is generally

ft Frenchman, whose ancestors were traders before him, and of

course a native of the wild region ho inhabits. Such arc the

/acts with regard to the individual I am about to portray, and

|I purpose, by this specimen, to give my reader a faithful idea

jof the class to which he belongs.

;, Tho residence of my friend is on tho Saint Peter's river,
ypcar the brow of a picturesque point formed by a bend of the
river, and his nearest' white neighbor is only two hundred miles
Iff. The dwelling that he lives in is built of logs, and contains
10 large room and a garret. Adjoining this cabin is another
the same character, where he keeps his merchandise which
l)nsists chiefly of pork, flour, blankets, blue and scarlet cloths,
)d various kinds of trinkets. His household is composed of
in Indian wife and a full assortment of half-breed 4uldrcn,
rho are generally possessed of a good deal of natural shrewd-
less, but of course utterly ignorant of books and the ways of
le civilized world. Adjoining the trader's residence is about
)ne acre of ploughed ground, where he cultivates a few com-
lon vegetables ; and he keeps a solitary cow, which yields him
kho only luxury that he enjoys. His live stock is very extcn-
pive, but not of that character which is profitable, — it is pecu-
liar to tho wilderness, and in our section of country would be
illed a menagerie. The following is a correct list of my
riend's treasures in this pai'ticular, viz, : — one grizzly bear,

Iwi

.,, .!■■

THE INDIAN TRADER.

^;..'"

„.),».MmM.

4* KxUi'l

lj|::;"i;a::;;-

I;,*:)' ' ■ " 1'

lllf I ' "■

„!■ :;"ir"'!

iiji

:i ■ '"^"t'liiii

K V

two black bears, two fawna, one fox, ono coon, ono englc, one
crow, ono cormornnt, a flock of wild gccse, two Hwans, anil one
owl. In addition to these I ought to mention a herd of Indian
dogs, and a brotherhood of Indians, who uro nearly always en-
camped in the vicinity of the trader's dwelling.

Now, as to the manner of the trader's life. Though I did
not intend to make a hero of my friend, I must say that the
life he loads is heroic to an uncommon (le;:rco. Ilia resting
time is during the summer months, when !iis principal business
is to obtain his merchandise and attend the various Indian pay-
ments that may happen to be made. But during tho winter,
which is long and very severe in this region, ho visits, with ono
or two companions, tho hunting-grounds of tlic Indians, — leav-
ing his homo heavily loaded with goods and provisions, and re-
turning, still more heavily laden with packs of furs and peltries.
Tho hardships and privations that he then endures, would, in
a single month, destroy a common constitution ; but they arc
treated by him as matters of very little consequence, for his
constitution seems to be of an iron nature. Several days docs
lie sometimes spend without a particle of food ; — now, snow-
bound in the pathless woods, and now surrounded, perhaps, by
a band of hostile Indians, who may succeed in robbing him of
bis furs. Now it is his fortune to struggle for life with some
half-famished beast ; and now he has to endure tho frightful
dangers of fording angry and partly frozen rivers. Cold,
fatigue, and hunger are at the foundation of almost every scene
that he passes through during the clieerless winter months of
every year, in the Indian Territory of the northwest.

Tho intellectual and moral character of our Indian trader is
what would be expected from a man in his condition. He
knows not how to read or write, and" is consequently dependent
upon a clerk for the prosecution of his epistolary business and
tho keeping of his memorandum books. In politics he is
nothing, as he has not, from his location, the privilege of
voting ; but his sympathies arc invariably with thoso officers of
the Government who project and carry out measures nominally
for the benefit of tho poor Indians, but more particularly for

(ft.

)no eagle, one
wana, nnd one
herd of Indian
trly always cn-

Though I did
,t say that the
. His resting
ncipal business
•us Indian pay-
ing the winter,
visits, with one
Indians, — leav-
visions, and rc-
irs and peltries,
lures, would, in
\ ; but they are
;quence, for his
ivcral days docs
d ; — now, snow-
Icd, perhaps, by

robbing him of
r life with some
ire the frightful
rivers. Cold,
most every scene
inter months of
thwest.
Indian trader id

condition, lie
lently dependent
iry business and
a politics he is

the privilege of
I those officers of
asures nominally

particularly for

*1i3

THE INDIAN TRADEU.

his own. In religion, ho is a blind adherent to tho Pope of
Rome. Tho glittering dollar appears to bo tho Htar of his am-
bition. Having been for many years an agent for the famous
[American Fur Company, he has become hardened, and, like
his teacher in tho science of oppressive monopoly, seldom hcsi-
Jtatcs at any course of conduct that will prove lucrative. lie
^^avows himself tho best and only friend of tho Indian, and yet
.^^his every act of kindness is accompanied by a moral stab. IIo
'^■buys a pack of furs and allows tho hunter tho current price,
Hbut then ho pays him in flour at p vhaps Jifty dollars per bar-
'rel, and blankets at ten dollars apiece ; — but far worse, ho sells
to tho benighted savage tho baneful fire-water, which makes
kim a devil.

' But tho trader has some redeeming (lualities, and I know not
that I am disposed to write him down as raoro ignorant or
ricked than his civilized fellow-men in tho same sphere of life,
it tho same time that he imposes upon tho poor Indian, in
lore ways thtin one, it is also true that he is his friend when
jld and hungry. The Indian is such a thoughtless and impro-
Kdent creature, that it is absolutely necessary he should have
jmo one to watch over him and keep him from starving. And
^tcn is the trader's duty, in this particular, faithfully per-
rmcd ; with all his faults, he would sooner die than see an
Wian suffer from want of food. Take tho trader away from
tibe cares of business, as you sometimes may employ him as
jtour guide in a hunting expedition, and you will find hira a
'best interesting companion. Strange as it will seem, he is a
jvoted lover of nature, and being superstitious, ho has a legend
his head for every picturesque nook of the woods and prai-
Bs, and for every beast or bird that may happen to cross your
ith. lie is well acquainted with the geography of tho north-
Bst, and makes an occasional rudo map upon bii'ch bark, which
to of great value to those who execute them on a largo scale
|r our Government. That portion of Nicolot's map, reprc-
bnting the extreme head of the Mississippi, was made upon
;%ark, by Francis Brunet, one of these very men. The Indian
tader is also well acquainted with tho traditionary history of

.»*#

t ..>„ ; '"I'll

i/i,;-.. '•'■>'**■ t hip;.

•M

;| l:":i!?:ii''l'«iiiiiili

THE INDIAN TRADER.

the Indian tribes, and knows well the character of every chief
and remarkable personage now living. He has a kindly na-
ture, and his whole conduct is agreeably softened by an innate
politeness. He is, to sum up all, a most romantic, but very
useful and influential character, and in intellect the aristocrat
of the wilderness.

I may append with propriety to this sketch, a. few words
about the fur trade generally, as it now exists beyond the Mis-
sissippi. A division took place in the American Fur Company
a few years ago, and whil: one party was headed by Pierre
Chotcau, and traded on the Missouri, the other remained under
the guiding hand of Ramsey Crooks, and confined its opera-
tions to the region of the Great Lakes. The principjil men in
this fur trade, before and since the family division, succeeded
in accumulating large fortunes, but both of the companies arc
now supposed to be insolvent. For my part I am not surprised
at this result, vhen I know the overbearing and monopolizing
character of these companies, and when I believe in the theory
that iniquity has its reward even in this world. Many of the
deeds that have been, and are still, sanctioned by the so-called
American Fur Company, are of such a character as to be
worthy of the severest condemnation. But of its many iniqui-
ties I w"ll mention only one. This company has located its
agents in every eligible corner of the wilderness, for the ulti-
mate purpose of accumulating gold ; and when the poor mission-
ary of the cross has crept along through untold hardships to
plant the bannc jf a pure religion, for the benefit of the retl
man, he has been insulted and driven away. But I like not
this theme, and will let it pass into forgetfulness. When I am •
told that the bt^ver and the otter and other valuable animals ;■
are rapidly becoming extinct, and that the glory of the Ameri-
can Fur Company is for ever departed, I cannot but believe
that there is a wise and just Providence, Avho holdeth the world
in the hollow of his hands.

"^" 'i|*'"!%,u,

SPIRIT LAKE.

This Lake, which the French have named Mille Lac, and
ertain ignorant Yankees, Rum Lake, was originally called by
e Chippewas, Minsisagaigoming, which signifies the dwelling
||laco of the Mysterious Spirit. In form it is almost round,'
Itod nearly twenty miles across in the widest part. Tlic shores
lire rather low, but covered with a luxuriant growth of oak,
lard maple, and tamarack. It is shallow, but clear and cold,
as a rocky bottom, yields a variety of llsh, contains only three
ilands, which are small and rocky, and is skirted with a barrier
boulder rocks.

The Mysterious Spirit alluded to above has acquired a great

toriety on account of his frequently taking away into the

irit land certain people whom he loved. Sometimes he would

e them for a fev days, and sometimes he would not return

lem at all. The following stories were given to me as facts,

tlbd I know were actually believed. An Indian, Avith his

mily, had encamped upon the lake for one night, and just as

Avas about to depart on the following morning, he could not

d his only child, a little girl. At one moment she was seen

Scking up some pebbles near her father's canoe, and the very

xt was gone. For six days did they seek the child, but in

in. On the seventh" day, however, as they were about to

part once more, (having given up all hope of recovering the

St one,) they looked, and behold ! she was again picking up

bbles beside the canoe, as unconcerned as if nothing had

ppcned. When questioned, she answered that she had only

n taken away by a beautiful lady to a beautiful land, where

e had been happy in seeing many beautiful things.

te. 5

,..ii)jiiii

!H:::r::P^"if!

■f'

ii;'!9"'i'Siiliiiii

jtSN'"'l'''ii

,'■'', I l.illlllllllll

'f"'t" ,

SPIUIT LAKE.

Once when there was a party of Indians encamped here, a
favorite young girl was discovered to be missing, and her
friends, supposing that she liad been drowned, were mourning
bitterly at her departure ; one day she made her appearance
in her father's lodge, as if nothing had happened, and was
accompanied by two dog?. Ilcr story was, that an old woman
had taken her to an island, presented her with the animals,
and bade her prepare for a long journey. She Avas absent for
three weeks, but on the day of her return was numbered willi
the dead.

A little boy was also once lost on the margin of this lake
The only trace of him that ever could be discovered, was om
of his arrows found lodged in a tree. And the Indians believe,
too, that the aged mother of IIo!e-in-the-day (the great chief i
was also carried away by this Mysterious Spirit. One thing
is certain, say they, she disappeared in the twinkling of an eye
from the party with whom she was travelling many years ago
Tliesc arc indeed idle legends, but give us an insight into the
Indian mind.

The following is an historical fact, which only proves tlu
obstinacy of the principal actor. Many years ago, a cliief
named White Fisher, with liis family and a party of braves,
were encamped in one large lodge on the north side of Spirit
Lake. A friendly Indian entered the cabin at sunset, and told
the chief tliat he had seen a war-party of three Sioux on lii;
trail. The chief scorned to believe the story, because iii;
dreams told him nothing about an enemy. In a short time
his eldest son returned from his evening hunt, and said that
ho had also seen three Sioux in the woods about a mile off;—
but the father continued to disbelieve. Finally the chief's own
brother told him a similar story, which Avas also treated witli
contempt. It was now morning, and the chief made his ap-
pearance outside of his lodge, and was about to go upon a hunt;
— but in the twinkling of an eye three balls passed through his
body, and ho died. Every single member of his household was
killed, excepting his youngest son, who was taken prisducr,
lived in the Sioux country for twenty years, but finally re-

SlPIRIT LAKE.

samped hove, a m
ssing, and her
were mourning
her appearance ■
poned, and was
it an old woniiiu
itli the aniniiils,
i was absent for
i numbered wilh

nrhi of this hike
;overed, was onr
I Indians believe,
(the great chief i
)irit. One thing
inkling of an eye
many years ago.
I insight into tlic .

only proves the
:ar3 ago, a chief
party of bra\es.
rth side of Spirit
,t sunset, and told
roe Sioux on lii;
tory, because lii;

In a short time
int, and said tliat
bout a mile off;—
ly the chief's own

also treated wiili
lief made his ap-
,0 go upon a hunt;
massed througli lib
his household wa;
Ls taken prisoiicv.
•s, but finally re-

rned to his own people, and he was the identical individual
om •whose lips I obtained the above facts. He is now a chief,
d universally known by hu father's name, Wabogike, or
hite Fisher.

On the west bank of Spirit. River, whore it leaves the lake,
the rude grave of Kitcheoseyin, or Elder Brother, who was
inc of the most famous orators of his nation. lie was a noted
ief, and on one occasion had given up into the hands of the
fhitc men a certain Chippewa murderer. His people were
ry angry at him, and it was currently reported that he was
lOut to be assassinated. He heard of this interesting move-
j|ent, and immediately summoned a council. The warriors
Here all present^ and when the pipe had been passed entirely
li^nd, the chief steppe' forward and addressed the council in
ll^e following words, which were repeated to me by one who
lieard them :

: " Friends, relatives, and brothers. My object in calling you

ether in council is this. I hear that you desire to take away

life because I have given up to the white men a Cbippewa

ian, who had murdered one of their people. I have done so,

vc men, and I think I have done riglit. That man who com-

tcd the murder was a bad dog, — ho was not o true Chippe-

ludian, and for his wicked deed he deserves . die. Had

I been at war with the white nation, it would have been well,

ut we are at peace.

"But, brothers, I understand that you ^?cuso me of siding

i^ith the pale faces, and that you think such conduct wrong.

3|id() love the Avhite men, and I do not think ray conduct wrong.

is it, I would ask you, that supplies us with food when

Whc

«no is scarce, and who gives the warm blanket to protect us
)m the winter cold ? Who is it that gives us the guns that
so much need, and the tobacco that we so much love? You
bw that it is the white man, and you know, loo, that you act
|e fools to blame me for my conduct, and seek to kill me be-
ise I would be an lioncst Chippewa.

I" I tell you, warriors, that I do love the white man, and I
ready to die for his sake. You cannot compel mo to change

Imim, ■..-•■ '■■■■•'••

SPIlllT LAKE.

, I iiiiaiil

• '. ":i :'!»*:: I- i'liililllliii!

pill

'"m.

^<'Wm^'4

my opinion. Make a hole in tlic lake yonder, take me by force
and place me under it until I am almost dead, then pull me up
and ask me, 'Will you side with the white man now?' sind I
will answer, 'Yes.' Do it again, and again, and again, and I
will always answer, 'Yes,' and also that 'the white man is the
best friend we have.' Friends, I command you to go nomc.
and ever hereafter mind your own business."

Strange as it may seem, this speech had the desired eflFect.
and entirely quelled the ri.sing storm. The chief was not
killed, but died many years afterward witl) the lockjaw, frorc
a cut that he accidentally received on his foot.

The ruling chief of Spirit Lake, at the present time is Nu
guanabic, or Outside Feathei. lie is said to be the most wor-
thy, intelligent and influen'ial of all the Chippewa chiefs. I
spent many agreeable and instructive hours in his louge, and
among my Indian curiositi.'S <here is nothing that I value more
highly than the presents i received ^rom him. It does my
heart good to remember lae old man, and the beautiful lake
which is his home.

A sou of this old Indian, while hunting, once pursued a deer
to a very great distance, which he finally captured. Out of
revenge for the improper conduct of the raiimal, the cruel In-
dian tortured it in a variety of ways, and came home boasting
of what he had done. At the feast usually given on such occa-
sions, this old chief addressed his son in the following words:
" We arc thankful to the Great Spirit for furnishing us witb ■
food. But my son has acted very v/rong in torturing that ani
mal, and if the laws of the Great Spirit arc not changed from j
what they wcru in times past, that boy shall not be privileged
to kill another deer during the wliole winter." And I was told
that he did not, and that no cruel hearted man ever can, under %
similar circumstances.

It was from the lips of this aged Indian that I obtained the
following legend.

A thousand winters ago, the Great Spirit caused the sun to 1
be faf-tened in the heavens, for the purpose of destroying tiio
world on account of an enormous sin which had been committed.

SPIRIT LAKE.

lat I obtained the

le men of that time assembled together in council, but could
bvisc no means to avert the calamity. The animals of the

rth also held a council, and they were about to give up all

kpes of a release, when a small animal stept forth and avowed

intention of gnaAving off the string that held the sun. He

^tercd the earth, and after traveling a long time, finally

iched the desired planet and accomplished his purpose. The
|at of the sun, however, was so great, that the sight of the

roic little animal was impaired, and it returned to the earth

|a poor blmd mole.

,!«!!

1^'

^m'

"11

%- ■■'>> III

LAKE WINNIPEG.

ilWlBi,

Winnipeg, is the first lake of importnnoo which the traveler
paiscs through on his way up the Mississippi from Crow-Wing,
and it is a naiiiesako of the groat northern lake. The banks
of the river throughout tliis long distance do not average more
than about ten feet in height, and arc all the way covered with
a stuntc4 growth of trees, where the birch, the elm, the pine,
and tlie spruce mostly predominate. It is so exceedingly wind-
ing here, that by making a portage of fifteen rods, you nmv
often save some three or four miles of canoe travel. Tiic
stream varies from an eighth to half a mile in width ; soiiio
times shallow and rapidly running over a rocky bed, sometimes
widening into a shallow lake, and sometimes deep, and running
sluggishly through a soil of clay or sand, and almost blockcJ
up ^^ilh snags and sand bars.

The meaning of Winibigoshish, or Winnipeg, is, mudih
water. The lake is twelve miles in length and perhaps ten i;
'.idth. Tt is nearly round, has no islands, but a gravelly lui!
sandy bottom, and is surrounded by a handsome beach ; tin
water is clear an- shallow, and it contains no fish but those
that I have elsewhere mentioned as pccliar to this section of
the Mississippi. The surrounding country is a dead Icvtl,
composed of continuous woods, Avliich are everywhere inti'i-'i
spersed with lakes and rice swamps, where unnamoerod watir
fowl have lived nnd multiplied for centuries.

The only inhabitants that wc found on tho shores of Winni'
peg, were three bands of Gliippcwas, numbering in all alo
one thousand souls, who were drawn together by an agent c

dSbft^ I

v^/KI''

LAKE WINNIPEG.

hich the traveler
from Crow-Wing,
vke. The hanks *
not average more
way covered with
he elm, the pine,
exceedingly wind-
jn rods, you nmj
moe travel. The
in width; sonie-
ky bed, sometimes
deep, and runniiis;
id almost hlockcJ

inipeg, is, m"'^'!}
md perhaps ten in
but a gravelly uu!
[Isomc beach ; tlic
no fish but tlm-
1- to this pcctioii
y is a dead h'
everywhere int v
unnumbered watvi-

10 shores of Winni.
bering in all alio:
her by an agent d

he American Fur Company who had come to barter with
t^em. We pitched our tent in the midst of their encampment,

village, and managed, so ^ar as I was concerned, to spend a
ay and night among them quite pleasantly. Immediately on
ly arrival there, I hoai'd something about a contemplated bear
unt. It happened to be the month wlien this animal performs
8 annual journey to the south, whence it returns in October.

number of them had already been killed, and there was a
■^ossing place on the Mississippi, where a good marksman
gjjpight take one almost at any time. I found that there were
,fiut two men going on the hunt, and, as a present of tobacco
ffon initiated mo into their good graces, the party of course
litis increased to three. We started at sunset and descended
If the crossing place in a canoe, where we ambushed ourselves
VH one of the wildest recesses of the forest, seated on a mossy
ipck that commanded an opening between the trees, while our
"jl^noo was hidden by a willow that bent gracefully over the
?)|ji|ream. It was a clear, still night, but quite dark, as there
^s no moon. Hero we spent a number of hours, without
Uttering a word ; but listening meanwhile to the dismal shriek
^ an owl, or the silvery dropping of the dew on the gently
Ijliwing river. Finally, however, one of the Indians tapped mo
4Wfethe shoulder, and pointed to a large black object, which I
«Mr was a bear just wading into the water, directly on the op-
posite side from where we were seated. I had been tohl not
to fire until the signal was given, and so the following five
apanutos seemed longer than an ordinary hour, to my impatient
asjnd. The boar took it quite leisurely, not dreaming that an
«tteuiy A\as so near. But just as his feet touched the bottom
on our side of the stream, the Indians gave me a nod, and rais-
iig our several guns, we all three fired at the poor animal, who
nHlPppod into the water quite dead, creating around him a crini-
^ pool. We shipped the animal on board the canoo, paddled
^l^lie village, and hanging it on the high limb of a tree, retired

ur Several wigwams and slept until morninp;.

n making my appearance araong the Indians after break-

I, I found that I was to witness the ceremony which invarj-
5

'a;:';%I

F'fil'

mhiUm

I \\U' ' '

i;.!!'
't'-

i'lllllnii.,

. IlillllWllli

li|*"l'<m,„,

"IW,

66 LAKt! WINNIPEG/

ably follows tlic capture of a bear. I ought to remark in tlii!
place, that the animal in question was supposed by Morrison to
Weigh three hundred pounds. The Indian ivho had first touched
the bear with hia hand, (according to a universal custom among
the Chippewas,) was the one who claimed it as his own-
When he had taken off the skin, he presented it to a brotlier
hunter, who from that moment considered himself under obli-
gations to return the compliment at the earliest moment after
his next successful hunt. The animal was then dressed, anii
the four quarters hung up in our hunter's wigwam, that being
the only portion- allotted to him by custom ; while the heml.
back-bone, and ribs, the feet, the heart, liver and fat, were all
served up for a feast. A red feather was then sent to all tin
principal men in the village as an invitation, which they under
stood to be to a bear feast, while the eomvion class of men Wtn
verbally invited, women and children being denied the privik'gt
of participating. At the appointed hour the guests made tlitir
appearance, in a neighboring grove, each one carrying in lii-
hand a wooden bowl or dish. After they wore comfortiiLlv
seated in a large circle, a bag of ka-nick-a-nick and tobacc
was circulated, and a cloud of fragrant smoke ascended to tL*
sky, — for the Intlians invariably commence their ceremonu-
by smoking. The next step was to place upon a fire in their '
midst a large kettle containing the remnants of the bear, whicl
were to be boiled to a kind of soup, without the least partitl
of seasoning. While this was cooking, one of the orators i
the day delivered a speech, wherein he thanked the (Jrea
Spirit for telling his red children where to find the bear, anoi
concluding with some remarks upon tho characteristics of t!
animal. When tho bear chowder was done, it was equally ili-
tributed among the assembled crowd, and each one required t
eat the whole that was placed before him, and this too witlioo
a ladle or lifting his dish, but on his hands and knees in tl
common attitude of a bear. The bones were then all repliui
in the kettle and deposited in some safo place ; to neglect tit
part of the ceremony would be to anger the Great Spirit, wi.
would not allow the giver of the feast to kill another bear.

i»it

LAKE WINNIPEG.

sal custom among

it as his own,
[ it to a brotlier
fnself nnder oWi-
est moment after
then dicssetl, anil j
gwnm, tliat being '

■while the heiiil.

and fat, "were all

u sent to all tlie
^•hidi they unikr-

class of men wcn.
L'nied the privili^-

cuests made tluii
ic carrying in lii:

were conifortablv
-nick and tohiicc
ke ascended to tli'
e their cercmoiiii-
3on a fire in the:;
i of the bear, wliici
t the least particl'.
c of the orators >
thanked the iiirs

find the bear, an:
aracteristics of \h
, it Avas equally di;
ach one required t
iind this too AvillRiu:
ds and knees in il.
jre then all replace
lice ; to neglect ih
le Great Spirit, vL
11 another bear.

Among the stories which I heard at Lake Winnipeg, was
iho following, — given to me by an aged chief as a fact, but
hich I cannot consider in another light than as a legend. It
lustrates, however, the influence of dreams upon the savage
ind. An Indian named Otncagancc (Little Shoulder,) while
unting after doer, on a cold winter day, came to the margin
if this lake, where he built a fire and spent the night. lie had
dream, and thought that ho was crawling under ground, for
purpose of rescuing a human being from death. On opcn-
g his eyes in the morning, he was greatly surprised to sec a
toman on the ico a short distance off. She was standing near
air-hole, and wailing on account of her child, a little boy,
.0 had fallen through and must inevitably perish. Soon as
le hunter heard the woman's story, he dove into the hole, sav/^
,e child a groat distance off, holding out its hands, swam to it,
0ud in a few n.inutes placed it in its mother's arms — alive.
VAhd yonder," said the chief, pointing to a little mound, "is
libc resting place of the good mother, and before you stands that
J|py — changed to an old man. As to my saviour, Otncagancc,
lie has, for many moons, been a resident in the Hunting
,j|^rounds of the Blessed."

v^ Speaking of the dead reminds mo of the Winnipeg gravc-
jjj^rd. The Chippewa mode of treating their dead, is to cn-
100]) the body of their friend in a bark box, which they expose
ojwn a scaffolding, supported by four poles, and surmounted
irith a piece of skin or cloth as a flag. After the body has
Mmained there until all decomposition is at an end, they then
liury tlio bones, placing at the head of the grave a portion of
We l)ost food at that time in their possession. They after-
loardd cover the hillock with bark, somewhat after the manner
if a roof, leaving at one end a little window or door, for the
irted spirit to enter, when it comes to take away its bones,
a certain mysterious day, to which the living all look for-
d with reverence. When a friend dies, for one whole year
reafter they place food and tobacco periodically upon his
,ve ; and all the articles that he left behind -rre venerated
cherished, as if endowed with life. Their manner of

LAKE WINNIPEG.

,,.»». »"ir'«

k, •1.,,,

!».'

mourning for the Jcacl ordinarily ia, to paint their faces black;
but wlion their friend Ia taken away by violence, they wail and
mutilate their bodies. It is a part of their religion to protect
from sacrilege and exposure the remains of their departed
friends, and the survivors are constantly repairing every ruin
that accident or time may bring upon the graves of their kin-
dred. The grave-city that attracted my attention at Winni-
peg, consisted of seventy-six bark houses like those that I
have described. In fifty-two of them reposed the ashes of
fourteen fiimilies who were butchered, at midnight, by a Sioux
war-party. In five of them were buried a mother and four
daughters, who lost their lives while fishing on the lake, in
frail canoes, that were swamped by a sudden storm. In seven-
teen of them lay the remains of as many warriors, who were
attacked by a Sioux party of two hundred, — they fought in a
single trench, for one whole day, but were finally overcome
rtnd destroyed.

The melancholy impression which these brief facts loft upon
ray mind, as I stood in that wilderness grave-yard, I could not
easily dissipate. What a strange contrast in every particular
did it present to the grave-yards of the civilized world ! Not
one of all this multitude had died in peace, or with a know-
ledge of the true God. Here were no sculptured monuments,
no names, no epitaphs ; — nothing but solitude and utter deso-
lation.

L I •

• >'^ lllll I'"" '■'''" 'III

5*1.. \ ■■.f, 1 1 Piai'li.,,,.

# . i', ■ \i-

RED CEDAR L* B.

Red Cedau Lake is tlie sheet of water Mr. Schoolcraft has
attempted to name after a tlistinguislicd friend ; I say at-
tempted, because tlie Indians and traders of the northwest do
not recognize his change. I agree with them in the opinion
that it is not rigid for travellers to glorify themselves or friends
by attempting to supplant with their own, the original and ap-
propriate names that belong to the rivers and lakes of our land.
If the ambitious can discover nameless wonders, they will then
be privileged to use them in extending their reputations.

lied Cedar Lake takes its Indian name from the tree that
mostly abounds upon its shores. It contains little more Avater
than Winnipeg, but it has near its centre a large island, which
causes it to appear much larger on the map. It has a groat
many bays and several islands ; has a sandy bottom and fine
beach ; is shallow, clear, and yields a small white fish, a few
trout, and the plebeian varieties hereafter mentioned as native
to the Mississippi. The shores of this lake are gently undu-
lating, from twenty to thirty feet high, and must have been ori-
ginally quite beautiful. A mission house has been recently
established hei'e, and for many years the American Fur Com-
pany have had a trading post in its vicinity. Among the
Indian families that I saw here was one composed of a Avidow
and her children, whose father had died two winters ago, while
crossing the lake on his return from a hunting expedition,
lie, perished from cold and hunger, Avhile in full vicAv of the
cabin which sheltered his wife and children. And here, more
than a thousand miles from a really comfortable dwelling,

^^%

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.25

no ^*

m m

2.2

2.0

1.4 11.6

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WIST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80

(716) 872-4503

•^

ci\

/>>

^ ^

^.4^

ci\

RED CEDAR LAKE.

;;,^.H««*«»l

l^'sll

iiUi'

f,. ' -.t" "■ ■"■V.r."

*: V

i' N

lived this unfortunate "widow — ignorant, destitute, and without
friends. The story which she told, and the wretched picture
that her condition presented, kept me from inquiring into the
legendary lore of this lake, so that I spent my only evening
there, listening to the desultory conv jrsation of my friend Mor-
rison. The facts which I then gathp' od are now subjoined.

The entire region \,atered by the unnumbered lakes of the
Upper Mississippi, including Superior and Michigan, is now
inhabited by the Chippewa nation. The most of it they have
acquired by the right of conquest, and principally from the
Sioux nation, which is the principal cause that has so often
deluged this territory with blood. Their idea of the creation
is as follows. Originally, when the globe was an entire mass
of water, the only living creature that existed was an immense
bird, from whoso eyes glanced the lightning, and whose voice
was thunder. It so happcrod that this creature was oppressed
with solitude, and having touched the water with its wings,
the continents immediately appeared ; and from the beams of
the stars were born the first race of men, and from the winds
all the animals of the earth. The Chippewas universally ac-
knowledge the existence of a Supreme Being, whom they call
Kitchi-Manitou, which signifies Great Spirit, "and they reve-
rence this Being as one from whom nothing but good can
proceed. They also believe in an Evil Spirit, called Matcho-
Manitou, who is a liater of all men, and the source of every
misery. They also believe in a great number of spirits of more
limited power than the above ; and they have one of these for
the sun and moon, for every lake, river, and mountain, of any
note ; and for evfery season of the year, as well as for every
beast, bird, fish, reptile, and insect, that may have acquired a
reputation among them. To all of these they are in the habit
of making oflFerings, which are as various as the spirits them-
selves. Death, with them, is always luoked upon as a matter
of course, and a blessing. When a good man dies they sup-
pose that he is taken across a certain river into a land of per-
petual sunshine, of beautiful woods, streams, and prairies,
where every variety of game is always at hand, and fruit upon

lillSltl. Il .:

HES CEDAR LAEE.

every tree ; where they "will have nothing to do but love each
other, and live in the enjoyment of peace. When a bad man
dies, he is compelled to attempt to er-'iss another river on a
bridge of reedd, through which he inevitably falls into the
angry waters, which are sure to transport bin to a distant
country, which is barren, always covered with snow, and very
cold. He is to live there in a state of perpetual hunger,
shivering under the influence of biting winds.

Their manner of winning the title of a Brave, when there is
no chance of distingnishing themselves in war, as at the present
time, is to retire into a lonely nook of the woods, where they
remain for six days without a particle of food. "While there,
they commemorate each day by making a notch on a stick, and
when they finally appear in the village, with a stick of six
notches, they are welcomed as accomplished warriors. They
arc trained, almost from the hour of their birth, to endure
every possible hardship, which ever makes them superior to a
sense of suffering or fear of death. And the two great objects
which prompt them to all this, arc, that they may be able al-
ways to protect their relatives and friends from harm, and to
shield their country from every aggression. It is a part of
their religion to revenge every wrong, and when their terrible
passions are roused, nothing but blood can stop them in their
march of cruelty. This trait is inherent in \heir nature, even
as the taste of blood will whet the appetito of the leopard and
lion, — and I doubt if the Divine Will, in its wisdom, would
have this state of things altered. If otherwise, it were reason-
able to expect that the hand of God would fall heavily upon
the white man, for placing the yoke of a most bitter oppression
upon the unhappy Indian tribes. Many of the vices which
were once almost hidden in their simple nature, have been
ripened into full maturity by the example and allurements of
their civilized brethren. They deeded to us their beautiful
domains, and we have recompensed them with a cup of poison,
aad the deadly principles of infidelity- And yet we (as a
people) think it just and charitable to speak of the poor Indian
with a curse upon our lips-

12-

BED CEDAR LAEF.

||i;|iS"'i^'»"'tK'l

Uw-"**

P l!

SlVr'niHi

I ipi'iislii;;

MklllllllWIllUl

■ T li„ '■■1

The following is an outline of tlie Indian's manner of life.
In November he enters his hunting grounds. After remaining
in one place until he ean find no more game, he removes to an-
other a fevf miles off, and so continue? until the whole region
is explored and the winter months are gone. Early in March^
ho settles his family in the maple forest ; and while his wife-
and children are left to make sugar, he enters alone upon his-
spiing hunt. Returning in May, he takes his family and
pitches his tent in the vicinity of the various military establish-
ments and trading-houses of the wilderness, where he spend*
the summer months, feasting, gaming, and idling away hi»
time. In September, he plucks his corn and gathers his wild
rice; and in October, prepares himself for the approaching
winter hunt. In the winter they rove about in companies of
about five families, but in summer congregate in villages.

A few words as to their ideas of marriage. Each man is
allowed to have as many wives as he can support, and it is a
singular fact that they invariably live together in the greatest
harmony. Those that are young and have no children, are
compelled to act (and they do it willingly) as servants to those
who are mothers. It is also true that some of them are allowed
to retain their virginity until death. Though the Chippewaa
are permitted by their customs to have a number of wives, they
are generally so poor ■ h - majority of them have only one.
When a young man -fa .^s himself in love, he invites two or
three of his cor:panions to go with him, and they pay a visit
to the loved oneh lodge. During this visit not one word is-
uttered by the guests, and when they depart the Indian lady
is left in duabt as to the particular one who thus commences-
his loving attack. On the succeeding evening, the lover per-
forms Lis visit alor a. When he enters, if the lady speaks to
him, he is accepted ; if not, he is rejected. If the father offers-
him a lighted pipe, it is a. sign that his consent is granted ; if
he docs not, and keeps silent, it is understood that the young
man must not persevere. When accepted, the lover makes-
some rich presents to the father and mother, and the loversi
are con-sidcred husband and wife. Until the bride becomes, si

■>■<'■

'PS.

RED OEDAR LAKE.

td(

mother, she resides in her father's lodge; and all the game
that the young hunter kills, is given to the wife's parents, but
the furs to his wife. After this, the young woman packs up
her apparel, which is usually her whole fortune, and takes up
her residence with her husband in a new lodge. Divorces
among the Chippewas are hardly eter known ; and adultery
is considered a heinous crime, and always punished with seve-
rity.

Travelling among the Chippewas may be considered a good
deal safer than it is among the half savage inhabitants of the
frontier. The ir-ost dangerous to deal with ai*e the young men,
who, in civilized society, would be called " snobs." They are
idle, haughty, and revengeful, and the only right way to treat
them is with the utmost coldness. Allow them to be familiar,
and they will soon be impudent and overbearing. Unlike
civilized barbarians, those of the wilderness know not what it
is to use profane language. When they have reason to despise
a man, they call him a bad dog ; and when they have chastised
such an on :,, they wear a skunk skin at one of their heels as a
memento of the mean man's disgrace.

The hospitality of the Chippewas is proverbial. When a
stranger enters their cabin, he is invited to a seat on their best
mat, and always treated with the very best that they possess in
the way of food. Visit a chief at an untimely hour, at midnight
for example, and he will arise, stir up his^ro, and give you a
pipe with all the air and politeness of a polished gentleman.
Call upon him, when you know that he has reason to consider
you his enemy, and he will not tell you to leave his wigwam, but
it may be that in an unguarded moment, when in your own
lodge, he will cleave your skull with a tomahawk. They are
also exceedingly affectionate, and do everything in their power
to make their children happy. When a party of them are in a
state of starvation, and one individual happens to have a bear
or a deer, he will distribute it equally at a feast. They treat
their infirm people with tender care ; and never refuse to pre-
sent to a brother Indian any pipe, weapon, or ornament that
may have been solicited. They extend the same civility to all

1,. '">'
liv''/'; ■■■} '

RED CEDAR LAKE.

white men whom they esteem. As the Chippewa country is
mostly covered with a dense forest, this people are unacquainted
with the use of the horse. Their mode of hunting the buffalo
has always been to drive them over bluffs, or to shoot them
while disguised in the skin of a wolf or buffalo. Their only
Vehicle is the birchen canoe, so famous for its beautiful model,
its frailty and feathery lightness. The bark of the birch, out
of which it is made, is found in great abundance throughout
their entire territory, and they use it, not only for canoes, but'
for their loilges, their grave-houses, their baskets, their mocucks,
their dishes, and exquisitely worked boxes, which they dispose
of as curiosities.

!!S;t

K'„.

\VH

U**' ■[

umm

i i

f* f "IHtJljil

'if '' ill

iiiiip II... , :,ll ,X^

Ifljiieiiei

ELK LAKE.

Elk or Itasca Lake is the fountain head of the Mississippi.
It is thought tO'ho three thousand miles from the Gulf of Mexico
and two thousand feet above the level of the Atlantic. It is a
small sheet of water, about five miles long, one to two miles
wide, and contains only one island, which lies directly in the
centre. The first traveller who visited the lake was Henry R.
Schoolcraft, after whom the island has been justly named. On
the south side is a ridge of wood-crowned hills, which give birth
to tiny streams, that eventually empty their waters into the
Atlantic and Pacific oceans. The whole region on the north is
woody, low and marshy. The water is clear, deep, and full of
fish ; the bottom gravelly ; and the entire shore covered with
reeds and rushes. The trees which abound here are the pine,
oak, elm, maple, birch, and poplar ; and the fish are principally
the trout, pike, and black bass. The Mississippi when it leaves
this lake is only about twenty feet wide, but after passing
through a great number of lakes it spreads itself to the width
of one hundred and fifty feet, and empties . into Red Cedar
Lake. This portion of the Great River might well be likened
to the infant Hercules, for it is the master of every thing
around it, and rambles onward as if conscious of its dawning
power. Upon the whole, however, it is through a cheerless
wilderness.

The region of Elk Lake was once famous for the number of
its animals, and derives its name from the following legend of
a mammoth elk. This creature is said to have measured the
length of two large canoes, and with his horns had power to

:».rf-r'

.*f-j

l!" : " '«!

Iff'

.^'-•'

i[ 'I

^'S'' ill

I ,1^ 1 ,1 Mil). Ik,
'■'"lIlillBklllHllH,

fU'l*'!*"*.,

ELK LAKE.

split a pine tree. His lair was in a valley in the neighboring
hills, where ho reigned supremo ; and it was customary for all
the animals of the north, which were of giant size in those days,
to make him an annual visit. As they were so numerous, they
were compelled to occupy the country for many miles around,
which accounts for its excessive flatness. The object of this
"world's convention" M'as to consult the king of beasts as to
the forests and plains they were to occupy during the following
year ; and to partake of the water of the small lake, which had
power to protect them from every disease or accident ; and such
was the state of things, when an enemy made its appearance,
and the reign of the Emperor Elk was ended. .

Those were the days when giants inhabited the earth, and
the regions where most they congregated was in the far South.
It so happened that a hunting party of these people wandered
to the North, and finally pitched their tents in the vicinity of
this lake. Among th.e animals they succeeded in killing was
the Mammoth Elk, which they found asleep and pierced with a
poisoned arrow. The heavens were immediately filled with
clouds, and a heavy rain deluged the earth, and with their
booty, in melancholy mood, the hunters started on their return.
The rain Avas so abundant that the lake overflowed its banks,
forming a little stream, which finally widened into a broad
river, and emptied into an unknown sea ; and on the bosom of
this river did the hunters float in their nowly made canoes, until
they found themselves in their own country. The conclusion
of the whole matter Avas, that from that year all the animals of
the earth began to dwindle in size, and the men of that time
were reduced in statui ^ to the heighi of their younger children.

A more suggestive le^'^end than the above I have seldom
heard. To my mind, it illustrates the poetical genius of the
Indian, and throws much light upon the history of the Mound
Builders. I obtained it from the lips of an old Indian hermit,
as I sat in his solitary lodge.

On the gentle hills which overlook this lake I spent a number
of days, pondering upon the sti'ange wild scenery which sur-
rounded me. At one time I reveled over a morning landscape.

ELK LAKE.

The sun had risen above an ocean of forests, and tlio air was
tremulous with melodj. Earth was awake, and qlothcd in her
fresh green garment. The mists had left the long low valleys,
and revealed to the open sky winding rivers and lakes of sur-
passing loveliness. Everything was laughing with joy under
the glorious influence of the summer sun.

The elk and the deer wore cropping their morning repast,
with the dew-showers trickling from their sides. Gracefully
did the smoke curl upward from a distant Indian village. The
hunters were preparing for the chase. I saw them enter their
canoes, silently glide down a river, and finally lose themselves
among the islands of a vast swamp. None were left in that
village but women and children. While the former busied
themselves in their rude occupations, the latter were sporting
in the sunshine, some shooting at a target, some leaping, some
swimming, and others dancing.

At one time I gifzed upon a noontide panorama. Not a
breath of air was stirring, and the atmosphere was hot and
sultry. The leaves and the green waves of a distant prairie
were motionless. The birds were tired of singing, and had
sought the shadowy recesses of the wood. The deer, my fancy
to!d me, was quenching his thirst in some nameless stream, or
panting with heat in some secluded dell. On an old dry tree,
whose giant arras stretched upwards, as if to g i p the clouds,
a solitary eagle had perched himself. It was too hot even for
him to enjoy a bath in the upper air ; but presently, as if
smitten with a new thought, he spread out his broad pinions,
and slowly ascended to the zenith — whence I fancied that the
glance of his keen eyes could rest upon the Atlaintic and Pacific
oceans. The butterfly and wild bee were resting on the full-
blown flowers. Earth and air were so tranquil, that it seemed
as if nature were offering up a prayer. Winding far away to
the south was the Mississippi, fading away to the bending sky.

Towards evening a cloud obscured the sky. The wind arose,
and was soon followed by a roaring sound, — and now a scorm
was spending its fyry upon forest and prairie. Loud thunder
echoed through the firmament, and the lightnings flashed forth

KLK LAKB.

.!,«,•«••'•"

their fire. The forests were bonding as if every tree would
brciik. An old oak, which Htood in its grandeur above its fel-
lows, now lay prostrate. The parched soil was deluged with
rain. But finally the storm spent its fury, and the clouds, like
a routed army, were passing away in dire confusion. A rain-
bow then arched the hi>avcns, and ; fresh but gentle breeze was
fanning my face, and thriBing me with pleasure.

I also looked upon this wilderness landscape at a later hour.
As tlio sun descended, the clouds came out to meet him, decked
in their most gorgeous hues, while the evening star smiled at
his approach. He had left the valleys in twilight, and I knew
that his last beams were gilding with gold the Rocky Moun-
tains. The moon ascended to her throne ; and the whippoor-
will commenced her evening hymn. On heavy wings a swan
flew past me ; he was going perhaps to his homo on the margin
of Hudson's Bay. A stir was in the Indian village, for they
had returned with their canoes loaded ^^th game. The cus-
tomary festival had commenced, and most strangely did their
wild music sound, as it broke on the surrounding solitude. The
doe had gone to her grassy couch, the feathered multitudes were
sleeping, and the mantle of night had fallen upon the world.

It was now midnight, and I stood in the centre of an appa-
rently boundless wilderness of forests and prairies ;— while far
away to the northwest reposed a range of hills, which seemed
to me like a vast caravan of the antediluvian Mound Builders.
The moon had compassed the heavens, and was near her setting.
A thousand stars were by her side. She flooded with her silver
beams the leaves, the waves, and distant hills. Every voice
within the Indian village was hushed. The warrior, asleep upon
his mat, was dreaming of a new hunting ground ; the youth, of
the dark-eyed maiden whom he loved; and the child, of the
toys of yesterday. The wind was up, and wailed a solemn an-
them as it swept through the dark pines. The owl was noise-
lessl}'' flying from tree to tree, and the beautiful whippoorwill
was sleeping. The splash of a leaping fish, or the howl of a
wolf, were the only sounds that fell upon my ear, and most im-
pressive was the hour.

LEECH LAKE.

Leech liA^K lies in the midst of a forest, mostly coniposeil
of pine, maple, oak, clra and tamarack. It ia supposed to be
about forty miles in longtb, and perhaps^ twenty to i enty-'fivc
in width. Its shores arc very irregular, it contains a ntinibcr
of largo islands, and a trading post of some antiquity. It de-
rives its name (Casagasque) from the story, that the first man
who discovered it, saw in it a leech that was wider across the back
than an ordinary Indian mat. It is deep and clear, has a sandy
bottom and shores, and is far-famed for its white fish, though
possessing almost every other variety in great abundance.
Three of its most prominent islands ar(v known by the names of
the Goose, the Pelican, and the Bear. The first has a desolate
appearance, and is inhabited only by immense numbers of
water-fowl ; the second is noted for its fishing grounds and a
certain species of the pelican, said to be found only on its
shores ; and the third has a good soil, is thickly wooded, and
somewhat cultivated by a tribe of Indians, who own the lake
and inhabit the surrounding country.

Thil^ribo of people glory in the name of Pillagers, and arc
fully deserving of the name. If they happen to meet a stranger
Indian or trader, each one will unceremoniously help himself to
an article that he likes, politely remarking that for Ids part he
desires nothing more, after which they feed the unfortunate
man well, but let him depart with nothing but a blanket or
jacket. The Pillagers are a brave, proud, and warlike people,
but on account of their thieving peculiarity, are universally
hated and feared. But they are good hunters, and pay more
attention to agriculture than any other tribe in the nation.

«•••* ""

Mm :

rEjU-mi;

^ [;^ ■ «:. .JilJKtitllfal

■ •'■ ': h ■illi:

•'■> .t,:'!i::

pii|l*"l '

LEECn LAKE.

During my stay at Lcoch Lako I had on opportunity of wit-
nessing a Mcdicino Dance, and of obtaining some information
with regard to the Medicine Society. It is a religious rite, and
practised on a great variety "of occasions. At this time the
dance was given by a man who had lost a relative. The cere-
mony commenced at twelve o'clock at night, and lasted until
the evening of the following day ; and such a mixture of ridicu-
lous dancing, horrible yelling, and uncouth dressing, I never
before witnessed, and never wish to witness again. It seemed
as if all the more unearthly creations of Dante had been let
loose upon the earth, and had sought the heart of the wilder-
ness, to rejoice at their freedom and portray the miseries of
hell. I would, but cannot, adequately describe the scene, and
I can only expect my more imaginative readers to obtain the
faintest idea of its strange appearance.

White men and Indians who have never been initiated into
the mysteries of the Grand Medicine, ore not allowed to be pre-
sent during the first part of the celebration. From what I have
seen and heard about it, I am convinced that it is nothing
in tho world but on I^idian and savage species of Free Ma-
sonry. A Medicine man would sooner die than divulge the
secrets of his order. Tho ceremony on the occasion above
mentioned, was performed in tho immediate vicinity of the de-
ceased ; while a conversation was carried on with the dead, and
food placed by its side, as if it hod been a living and hungry
individual. Then it was that their medicine bags were taken
out, and as each Indian has a certain medicine, or preparation
which he supposes his skin to possess, ho attempts to flfanifest
its virtues on this occasion. By breathing into the nostrils of
the skin, he imports to it a particular charm, by which he con
cure the sick or destroy his enemies. Hence the great fear
that these conjurors inspire in all others. Medicine men sup-
port each other in every thing they may happen individually to
require, even to the murder of an unfortunate child. When a
man has passed tho highest degree, he con command the ser-
vices of his brethren for any purpose. The price of admission
is six pieces for each grade, and there are eight grades. By

LBKOR LAKB.

one picco they mean a blanket, a pair of leggins, a knife, a gun
or any other useful article. The man who gives the most ex-
pensive piece is highly honored, and can make the lar'^est de-
mands upon the Society, so that the older memben obtain
quite a revenue for their former expenditures. When they
wish to inform a distant lodge of the faithlessness of o member,
they despatch a picco of tobacco ; the guilty man is always
known and Yiever admitted ; but when they prove true, their
membership is inherited. The missionaries of the west are
inclined to believe that this Medicine institution is the grand
obstacle to the promulgation of the Christian Religion among
the Indians.

I also witnessed while at Leech Lake the conelution of a
cercmony.that was commenced some weeks before. There had
been a Virgin Dance, the prominent features of which are as
follows : All the virgins of the village assemble together, and
scat themselves in a largo circle. In the midst of this company
are collected all the young men of the village, who dance for
the amusement of the ladies. But if it so happens that one of
the men stops suddenly, and points his finger at a particular
girl, she is at once looked upon as having lost her virginity ; if
the charge is substantiated, the girl ig disgraced ; but if not, the
young man must die. The conelution that I alluded to, was
the execution, in cold blood, of a fine looking young man, who
had attempted, without cause, to ruin the reputation of a girl
by whom he had been rejected. In an unguarded moment he
had been stabbed, and when I saw him he was weltering in his
blood. It was a terrible exhibition of justice and oruelty, and
made me partly admire and then utterly despise t^e chayuster
of the Indian race.

While at this lake a couple of trappers made their appear-
ance from the Red River wilderness, where they had been
hunting during the past winter, but owing to an accident had
been detained from returning until the present time. They
were Half-Breeds, and as wild a pair of beings as I ever beheld.
Their furs, at the usual prices, would probably bring them some
fifteen hundred dollars. Their place of destination was St.
6

. •-'•■■■■■..rf*'!

LEECH LAKE.

«:¥m:;;::4,i

'»^-"* H'-i

*Klr <:.

' p- "=' i

Louis, where each one had a wife and children. Their inteit-
tion was to remain with their friends until November, when they
would dive into the wilderness again.

I only heard three legends at Leech Lake. One gives the origin
of a certain miniature whirlpool, which may be seen on the south
side of the lake. A couple of Chippewa women, while cross-
ing in a canoe, were pursued by Sioux Indians, but the Lake
Spirit, out of compassion for their misfortune, strtkck the water
with his wings and opened an easy pathway to the Spirit Land.
The second story is about Pelican Island. It is said that no
Indian ever visited it without being caught in a storm ; and
that it has for centuries been inhabited by strange people.
They were never visible excepting from the main shore, for
when the island was searched no tracks or wigwam-poles could
be seen, nothing but rocks, grass, and reeds. At the present
time, none bat the bravest daro land upon its shore with their
canoes.

The third legend that I heard was about a famous battle once
fought, between the gods of tho white man and the red man.
A great many summers ago, a race of white people made their
appearance on the shores of this country, and as they were a
strange people, the red men of the wilderness were disposed to
love them. As the former were very poor, the latter presented
them with a few acres of land to cultivate. As the white men
increased in numbers, they craved more land, but the red men
would not yield to their extravagant solicitations. In the mean
time the strange people were becoming powerful. In process
of time the Big Manito became displeased with them, and was
detesmined that this usurpation should cease. Kc visited the
white man's god, and told him that he must take back l.s am-
bitious children. The white man's god replied that he would
do no such thing, but was determined to prolect his own.
Manito then told him that the question must be decided by
battle. A famous battle was fought, and tho white man's god
triumphed. He took Manito prisoner, and tied him to an oak
with hickory saplings, but he finally made his escape, and with
his children took up his home in the more remote wilderness.

i'iii i'

LBEOU LAKB.

The region of Leech Lake is somewhat famous for the quap-
titj and good quality of the original maize or Indian corn.
When I was there it was not sufficiently advanced to be eaten,
even in a green state, but I obtained a fact with regard to corn
planting, which may be new to my readers. All the labor con-
nected with the raising of corn is performed by the women,
who take it upon themselves as an offset i^ the hardships en-
dured by the men in hunting. It is customary for them after
they have planted the seed, to perform, in a state of nudity, a
nocturnal walk through the field, which ceremony is supposed
to protect the grain from the destroying insect or worm.

During my stay at this lake I received from my friend Mor-
rison, the following facts with regard- to the game now inhabit-
ing this region. The black bear, the black and gray wolf, the
elk, the moose, and the deer, the otter, the mink, porcupine,
white fisher, fox, the coon, the martin, the rabbit, and a variety
of squirrels are as abundant as ever ; the grizzly bear and buf-
falo are found only occasionally ; and the beaver is entirely
extinct. Among the birds that I saw were eagles, fish-hawks,
night-hawks, owls, loons, the swan, the crane, a great variety
of ducks, the pigeon, the woodpecker, blue-jay, black and blue-
bird, red-bird, and the king-bird ; and among the fish that may
be found in Leech Lake, are the white-fish, the trout, the pike>
the pickerel, the bass, the sucker, and the mullet. It is said
the white-fish of this lake, originated from the brains of a wo-
man ; and I am also told that its shores have in times past
yielded more* wealth in the way of furs than any other place
of the same extent in the northwest, l^ut enough. It is time
that I should close this desultory paper, else my reader will
accuse me of practising the most prominent peculiarity of the
animal Leech.

t^;J.k.-*'»*'"*

'! :

! Ihi

|;3!!?^«iS6j|;

d||'(iK*iiilli

FISH OF ^RB UPPER MISSISSIPPI.

This is to be my last letter from the Mississippi valley, and
my passion for the gentle art of angling, will not allow me to
leave the great river without recounting a few fishing para*
graphs, as mementos of my journey thus far.

The largest and unquestionably the most abundant variety
of fish found in the Lower Mississippi is the cat-fish, and here
I believe they are found in the greatest perfection. They vary
from one to six feet in length, and in weight from three lo one
hundred and fifty pounds. As an article of food they do not
amount to much, and yet I have met with many people who
considered them a great delicacy. They are invariably taken
with the hook, and to those who admire muddy water, and love
to handle the ugliest of creatures, capturing them must be a
fascinating amusement. They are caught and eaten at all sea-
sons of the year.

Another fish which abounds in the turbid portion of the Mis-
sissippi is called by the western people a perch,' but is in fact
only a sheep's-head. They are most abundant in the spring.
They vary from one to eight pounds in weight, and as an arti-
cle of food are about on a par with cat-fish. The above men-
tioned fish are the principal varieties which may be said to
flourish in the Lower Mississippi ; it is true, however, that spe-
cimens of almost every species of fresh water fish are occa-
sionally taken. The baits used for the cat-fish and sheep's-head
are pieces of fresh meat. Almost every stea'^aboat on the river
is well supplied with cotton lines and common hooks, and the
principal anglers for this fish are steamboat hands and raftsmen.

■■VI

FISH OF THB UPPER MISSISSIPPI.

But I must confess that I made a number of attempts to cap-
ture one of these monsters. The adventure took place after
the following manner. Our boat had stopped at Alton in the
evening, and was to remain there until about midnight. The
river was without a ripple, and the marvellous beauty of the
surrounding landscape threw me into a romantic mood ; and
tipping the wink to one of my companions to accompany me,
we took an assortment of tackle with about two pounds of beef,
and jumped into a skiff for an hour's sport. We pulled for the
opposite side of the river, and having moored our shallop at
the mouth of a bayou, baited our hooks, and threw them in.
We had sat in silence just long enough to watch the shooting
into darkness of a star, when ray line was suddenly made
taut, and I knew that I had a prize. I gave the fellow
about one hundred feet of line, and he made use of his "largest
liberty" by swimming around a certain snag, which of course
was annoying and greatly increased my excitement. I managed,
however, to disentangle my victim after a while, and in due
time had him safely ensconced in the bottom of the boat. His
length was nearly four feet, and his weight must have been up-
wards of sixty pounds. While we were recrossing the river to
reach our steamboat, a savage little steamer from Keokuk
came rushing down^ ahead of another with which it was racing,
and passed so very near our shallop that we were swamped, and
while my companion and myself were swimming to the shore
for dear life, the monster we had captured waS probably scoot-
ing away towards the Torrid Zone, not much injured, but a
good deaf frightened. About two hours after that adventure,
I was the victim of the nightmare, for I dreamed that I was
dying from strangulation.

Before taking my leave of the cat-fish I must transcribe a
description of him as recorded by Father Marquette : — " We
saw also a very hideous sea monster ; his head was like that of
a tiger, but his nose was somewhat sharper, and like a wild-cat ;
his beard was long, his ears stood upright, the color of his head
being gray and neck black. He looked upon us for some time ;
but as we came near him, our oars frightened him away."

i, ' V

,,.. fcwl'f "

irtnaiwiiil

Sill

'■' "'■ii,„ ■ •*

i,l;|!.,|. ■'! ,j

"* ''"'li!il||i i,,|

„ ^_^ . .,., ,ii!K;Stl!JSIjt

......,,;

l||'iiiiHi;iiiil|ij
■ ■ iiiuiiMiwiiiii*,,;

f:^,i|'*'!''««.(,^

FISH OF THE UPPER MISSISSIPPI.

This is about as near the truth as Marquette ever arrived,
but every one acquainted \rith the cat-fish of the Mississippi
will readily perceive the resemblance of the description to the
original.

I would now descant upon the fish of the Upper Mississippi.
The largest is the sturgeon, of which there are too varieties,
the common and the long-billed sturgeon. *" They constitute a
staple article of food with the Indians, who take them with
gill-nets and the spear. Their manner of preserving them is
by drying and smoking. In size they vary from three to eight
feet in length, weighing from thirty to one hundred and thirty
pounds. Like all the larger fish of the Mississippi, their flavor
is far from being delicate. With the sturgeon, which is a
plebeian fish, I am disposed to class the mullet, sucker, rock-
bass, sun-fish, bill-fish, bull-head, and chub,' and can a£Srm
from personal knowledge that all these fish are abundant in the
Mississippi.

They are in their prime in the spring, but very few of them
are fit to eat in summer. With the Indians, however, they are
eaten at all seasons, and I have never yet seen a fish in their
country which they did not use as an article of food. Pickerel
and perch also abound in all the waters of this region, but I do
not consider them equal to the same varieties in New England.
All the larger lakes that help to swell the Upper Mississippi arc
well supplied with white fish, the best of which are found in
Leech Lake. As an article of food they excel all the fish of
the northwest, but as they are of the shad genus, the angler
can only praise them in the abstract. •

The Indians employ a great variety of modes for taking all
these fish, but the gill-net, the spear, and the bow and arrow,
are the more successful ones.

But the regular game fish of the Upper Mississippi, are the
muskalounge, pike, black bass, and trout ; and of these it al-
ways affords me unfeigned pleasure to discourse. The two
former varieties are so nearly alike in appearance and habits
that I am disposed to speak of them as one and the same thing.
Formerly I entertained the opinion that a muskalounge was

9I8H OF THE UPPER MISSISSIPPI.

only an overgrown pike, but within the past year I have com-
pared them together, and am convinced that they are materially
different. Their habits, however, are precisely alike. They
are exceedingly abundant in the sluggish waters of the Missis-
sippi, and vary from five to fifty pounds in weight. They are
in season about nine months of the year, but in the spring, at
which time they ascend the river to spawn, are in their prime.
It is well known that these fish are bold biters : but the pike
is unquestionably the most active and cunning of the two, and
consequently the most valuable to the angler. The muska-
lounge is somewhat of a sluggard, and owing to his size and
hyena-like character, the very fish of all others for spearing
by torchlight. The handsomest pike I ever had the pleasure
of capturing was a resident of Lake Pepin. I was- sauntering
along the base of one of the rocky bluffs of this beautiful sheet
of water, and had spent most of the day without success, *'";"'"^
to take a trout with a mammoth fly. I had thrown out my line
for the last time, when, as I was carelessly winding it up, I
was astonished by a sudden leap within twenty feet of me, and
in a moment more it was whizzing through the water in fine
style. I humored the gentleman for about ten minutes, lead-
ing him meanwhile towards a sand-bar, whcrn I secured and
placed him in my canoe. He weighed upwards of twenty-one
pounds, was very fat, had a black back and silvery belly.

My best muskaU 'inge fishing occurred at a bend in the Mis-
sissippi, about one hundred and fifty miles above the Falls of
Saint Anthony. I took them with a spear and by torch-light,
standing in the bow of a canoe which was propelled by an In-
dian. Noiselessly did our birchen torch glide into a thousand
nooks of the stream, like a will-o'-the-wisp, with a couple of
deluded followers. I took no note of time on that memorable
occasion, and the only thing which preventtd me from fishing
until morning, was the fog which covered the river about mid-
night. We landed, however, with a sufllcient quantity of fish
to supply the whole encampment of Indians for at least three
days, and among them were seven specimens of the muska-
lounge, — the remainder being composed of small fry in gen-

IJ'lllJlli

iH ■

FISH. OF THE VPPBR MISSISSIPPI.

., , I

1 . 'i '

Cjj .iji'ij

|,..i- *irf

kJ.

i.:.'!»^^

eral. On opening one of my prizes, an immense black snake
was found in its bowels, frodi wbich time I date my antipathy
to this fishy genus as an article of food.

The best, and one of the most universal fish of the Missis-
sippi, is the black bass. They vary from one to seven pounds
in weight, are taken with a fly, the minnow and the frog, and
in my opinion, as a game fish, are only second to the trout.
They are found in great abundance at all the rapids in the
river, but afforded me the finest sport at the Falls of Saint
Anthony. When I was there the water was uncommonly low,
so that pool fishing was in its prime, and I enjoyed it to per-
fection. I captured no less than thirty-five superb bass in the
space of two hours, and that too, without once moving the
anchor of- my boat. I took them with a hand-line, baiting
with a minnow, and tHe majority of them weighed over two
pounds apiece.

The only respectable trout region of the Mississippi ex-
tends from Prairie du Chien to Lake St. Croix. An expert
angler may here capture an occasional pounder, out of the
river itself; but the rarest of sport is afforded by all the neigh-
boring brooks, which run through a hilly country, and are
rapid, rocky, and clear. The trout of these streams average
about eight ounces in weight. As 1 sailed up the Alpine por-
tion of the river in a steamboat, my opportunities for wetting
the line were not frequent or particularly successful, as the
following illustration will testify.

I had just arisen from the breakfast table, when the pilot of
the boat informed me that he was -about to be delayed for two
hours, and that there was a fine trout stream a little farther on,
which I might investigate. I immediately hailed a couple of
my travelling companions, and with our rods in prime order,
we all started' for the unknown stream. Owing to a huge rock
that lay on the margin of the river, we were compelled to make
an extensive circuit over a number of briar-covered hills, and
we found the bed of our pilot's trout brook without a particle
of water. What aggravated our condition was the intense heat
of the sun. In about an hour, however, we succeeded in reaoh-

FISH OF THE UPPER MISSISSIPPI.

iDg the Mississippi once more, and there, comfortably seated
in the shadow of a bluff, we threw out our lines and awaited
the arrival of the boat. We happened to be in the vicinity of
a deep hole, out of which we brought five black bass, weighing
three or four pounds apiece. We did not capture a single
trout, but the sight of one immense fellow that I lost, agitated
my nerves. Something very heavy had siezed my hook, and
after Inlaying it for some minutes I was about to land it, when
I saw that it was a trout, (it must have weighed some three
pounds,) but making a sudden leap, it snapped my line, and
was, like a great many objects in this world, entirely out of my
reach ; and then I was the victim of a loud and long laugh.
The only thing that kept me from falling into a settled melan-
choly was the incident which immediately followed. When
the boat came along, a Frenchman who was a passenger, and
happened to have a canoe floating at the stern, volunteered his
services to take us on board the steamer. Knowing that my
friends had never been in a canoe before, I would not embark
with them, and in about two minutes I had the pleaaure of see-
ing them capsized, and after they had become completely
soaked, of seeing them rescued from all danger minus the three
fine bass which they had taken. This feat was performed in
the presence of quite a number of ladies, and to the tune of a
hqarty peal of laughter.

M^t >

^r^-0

t«

SANDY LAKE.

**^i'/

'vH

M '".'

iS&:

Mir'^^^:,riM

W^^

I NOW write from the margin of a stream which empties into
Lake Superior, toward which I am impatiently pursuing my
way. Sandy Lake, where ended my voyaging on the Missis-
sippi, is one of the most famous lakes of the northwest. It
lies only about two miles east of the great river, and almost
directly west from Lake Superior. Over the intervening route
which connects the two water wonders of our country, more
furs and Indian goods have been transported, than over any
other trail in the wilderness. The lake received its name from
the French, on account of its sandy shores, which are remark-
ably beautiful, abounding in agates and cornelians. There is a
trading post here, which is said to have been established ninety
years ago ; and in a certain log cabin which was pointed out to
me, I was told furs had been stored, to the value of fifty mil-
lions of dollars.

The shores of this lake are hilly, full of beautiful islands,
upon one of which we breakfasted, and presents a most inter-
esting appearance. The water is clear and abounds in fish, of
which the black bass, the pike, and white-fish are the most
abundant. .

The voyager in pursuing this route always finds it necessary
to make a number of portages. Thg original manner in which
I performed one of these I will briefly describe.

When the company to which I belonged had landed on the
eastern shore of Sandy Lake, I immediately inquired for the
trail, seized my gun and started on ahead, hoping that I might
succeed in killing a few pigeons for supper. The path was

SANDY LAKB.

well beaten, the scenery interesting, and I went on with a light
heart and a head full of fantastic images born of the wild forest.
The only creature in the way of game that I saw was a large
red deer, which suddenly startled me by a shrill snort, and
bounded away as if in scorn of my locomotive powers. Soon
as my hair was fairly settled to its natural smoothness on my
head, (how very uncomf stable it is to bo frightened ! ) the deer
made a dignified pause, anil I attempted to draw near by dodg-
ing along behind the trees.

Soon as I was through dodging, I looked up and found that
my game was missing, and I therefore wheeled about to resume
my journey. My intention was reasonable and lawful, but
then arose the thought, what direction shall I pursue ? The
more I pondered the more my wonder grew, and after a series
of ineffectual rambles, I finally concluded that I had lost my
way, and must spend the night, literally speaking, " in the
wilderncps alone." I now record my tale without emotion, but
my feelings and reflections on that occasion were uncomfortable
in the extreme.

Aftor wandering about the woods until my feet were blii^-
tered, I concluded to pitch my tent for the night, although the
only things I bad with me to make mo comfortable in my soli-
tude, were an unloaded gun, a horn half full of powder, and
my shot-bag, empty of shot and balls. I happened to be in a
deep valley, which was entirely covered with pine trees. One
of them had two large branches that shot out together about a
dozen feet from the ground, and as I had no sure way of keep-
ing off an enemy, I managed to climb up to them, and there
spent the night, without once budging from my interesting
roost.

I was not visited by any goblins on that memorable night,
but the actual miseries which ministered to me during the dark
hours were quite numerous. In the first place, I had to watch
the deepening shadows of the evening, tormented by hunger
and thirst. Instead of having an opportunity to satisfy my
own appetite, it seemed as if all the musquitos of the wilder-
ness had assembled together for the purpose of having a feast

SANDY LAKE.

.vi»;' ;i,;,;^

it*-*"

m*»'

l««H*»'

..■iif,,.
ii "

Erf

k.i.*4|»''?!((

ifN?iK«esji

Riiiini

miilil

,i»Bii'«M»ihii;^,

')'*ii'^^'

I * » «> i

on my own flesh and blood. But nature granted me a brief
respite from this torment, by causing a shower to fall, which
had a tendency to cool my feverish lips and brow, and allowed
me a little sleep.

But this blessedness was soon ended, for in a fit of the night-
mare I had a very narrow escape from falling to the ground.
After I had fairly recovered myself, and again drank in the
horrors of a musquito dirge, I almost made up my mind to
drop at any rate, and thereby end my life and the enjoyment
of my infernal enemies.

But there was soon another change in the character of my
miseries. An immense owl had the impudence to perch him-
self on a limb above my head, whence he poured forth a flood
of the most horrible screaming that mortal ever heard. Soon
OS the echoes thus awakened had melted into silence, a crack-
ling sound fell upon my ear, and I beheld an old bear, straggling
along, as if he was sure of enjoying a feast of fresh meat.

Ho halted and snuffed around the base of a tree, which stood
only a few yards distant from tlio one I occupied, and then
continued on his way. Ho seemed to know that human feet
had lately trodden the valley, but rationally concluding that no
sensible man would remain in that particular region any longer
than he could possibly help it, he did not trouble himself about
the scent he had discovered. I felt grateful towards the old
savage for his unintentional politeness, but if my gun had been
loaded with only one ball, I should have favored him with an
unexpected salute.

The hours which followed this event, and preceded the dawn,
were the longest that I ever experienced. My wretchedness was
indescribable ; I was cold and hungry, and in want of sleep,
but morning came at last, and with it the warm bright sunshine
and the silence of the Sabbath ; only a loud clear chorus of
sweetest melody echoed through the pine forest valley, from
the throats, of a thousand birds.

On descending from my elevated position, I ascended a Vigh
hill, from whose summit I could look down upon a beautiful
lake, where I saw my fellow travellers all quietly afloat in their

m f

SANDY LAKH.

canoes. I loaded my gun with powder and fired a signal, which
was answered by a deafening shout, that was far sweeter to
my ears at that particular moment than even the song of birds.
When the Indians who had been hunting after mo had returned,
and when I resumed my seat in the canoe, and had a slice of
cold pork between my fingers, I was quite happy, in spite of
the many jokes cracked at my expense.

I" V

*''•• h, \

-'T ""■"""""3

»ir«iW''":"r"'"i-'«,'

fiflEltl'"'"""*.... 1"!

^||j!;':'*i!l|v':#i*i|ii

1:1:, i-i^'lkik IJill'

THE SAINT LOUIS RIVER.

Bv looking on tho map you will ubHcrve that this river enters
Lake Superior on tho extreme west. I had not the means of
ascertaining its precise length, but was told that above the
Savannah, vrhore I struck it, it is an inconsiderable stream.
From that point to tho lake it is quite a majoetic river, and I
should suppose the distance to be nearly one hundred and fifty
miles. It has more tho appearance of a vrild New England
river than any other that I have seen in tho western country.
It id exceedingly rocky, and so full of sunken boulders and
dangerous rapids, that it never could be made navigable further
up than Fond du Lac, which is twenty miles from Lake Supe-
rior. The water is clear, but of a rich snuff color, owing pro-
bably to tho swamps out of which it runs. It is said to rise and
fall very suddenly. Its entire shores are without a solitary
habitatioi]i (excepting at the trading post already mentioned,)
and tho scenery is picturesque, wild and romantic. But I hear
the roar of its cataracts, and must attempt a description of
them.

There is a place on this river called tho Knife Portage, from
the fact that the rocks hero are e;:r^r ^dingly sharp and pointed,
where the stream forms a large bend, and where the voyageur
has to make a portage of twelve miles. The length of this bend
may be sixteen miles, and in that distance tho water has a fall of
about threo hundred and twenty feet. The width of the river
may be from three to four hundred yards. At this point (just
above Fond du Lac) are three nameless waterfalls, whose
dimensions are indeed stupendous. The water of one tumbles

run 8AlMt LOUl.S UtVBll.

0V6r a pile of poiiiu 1 rocks, aiut uftcr twisting itself into evory
possible variety of schutcH and foaming streams, finally mur-
murs itself to sloop in a pool eighty feet below the summit
whence it takes its first leap. •

Another fall, or rather cataract, is not far from one hundred
feet high, and the water at times rushes over almost in a solid
and unbroken body.

The walla of slate on either side are lofty, and '* crowned
with a peculiar diadem of trees;" and as the roaring of the fall
is deafening, its effect upon me was allied to that of Niagara.
The pools at the bottom appeared to bo black and fathomless,
the spray whiter than snow, and the rainbows beautiful beyond
comparison. When I gazed upon the features of this superb
water-wonder, united as they were in one completo picture ;
when I listened to tho scream of the eagle mingling ^^ith the
roar, and thought of tho uninhabited wilderness in every direc-
tion around mo, I was most deeply impressed.

I visited this cataract accompanied by a party of Indians,
and owing to the length of time it took us to reach it, we were
compelled to spend tho night in its immediate vicinity. Wo
built our watch-fire on the southern shore, in a sheltering bay,
about one hundred yards from the highest leap, and on a spot
where we could command a complete view of tho superb pic-
ture.

Our supper on that occasion was composed exclusively of
venison, as one of the party had succeeded in killing a deer in
one of his morning excursions ; and though I had not eaten for
nine or ten hours, I seemed to have lost my appetite, and took
my food merely as a matter of necessity. After our repast
was ended, two of the Indians lighted their birchen torches
and jumped into a canoe for the purpose of spearing fish. I
watched them with peculiar interest, and saw them perform one
feat which was truly wonderful. They had wounded an im-
mense pike on a shoal, very near a column of the falling ele-
ment, when the stricken creature floundered away into the
foaming water, and the canoe darted on in quick pursuit, as if
its inmati^A were determined to capture or die. One moment it

;

f'.'-

WIIMKM'I""

i4 I

p('

' 1

f .

. ■ •••

■ ■ 'i

4 i<«*<M t

::t:::::'t».fc

|'::s;:

' . ■. ?, ^

„ ..;*-

i.:.j

£'»■■■* hm.i.

||i;,,m'!':-™--'-*...;
\h ■"" -■•..

I ■! ■
■i'*»"!S,'l»""w<.., '1

m s ,1

THE SAINT LOUIS RIVBR.

Pli:r

seemed as if the torrent of water must be pouring into the
canoe, and the torches be extinguished, and then again, I could
only see a halo of light, looking like the sun rising at mid-
night, as the fishermen glided behind a sheet of water or a
cloud of spray. They were successful in their sport, and finally
returned and presented their prize at my feet. The party then
enjoyed a pipe for about twenty minutes, when the younger
Indians commenced playing their favorite moccasin game, and
I spent the remainder of the evening conversing with the chief
and patriarch of th .- uand, from whom I gathered the following
tradition respecting the cataract:

"More moons ago than I can count," said the old man, "the
country lying between the big lake (Superior) and the place
where the sun goes down, was owned by the Sioux nation, which
was then immensely powerful. They were very cruel -in their
warfare, and did every thing in their power to annihilate the
Chippewa nation. The Great Spirit was not their friend, but
ours, and once, when a multitude of their warriors were pur-
suing some of our hunters down the river, the Great Spirit
suddenly kicked out the bottom in this place, and the principal
enemies of our nation were all destroyed. Since that time we
have been the possessors of this vast country, and the children
of our ancient enemies catch the bufialo in a far distant prairie
land."

With this legend deeply impressed on my mind (the telling
of which occupied my companion for iiearly two hours) I ordered
more wood to be placed on the fire, and leaving the others to
tike care of themselves, rolled myself up in my blanket, and
was soon asleep. I was awakened only once during the night,
and that was by the distant howl of a wolf, mingling with the
solemn anthem of the cataract. I sat up for a moment to look
upon the scene, but the sky was covered with clouds, and it
was exceedingly dark. Even the embers of our watch-fire had
ceased blazing. Around me lay my companions in a deep
sleep. Once more did I listen to the howl, and that voice of
many waters, until, like a frightened child, I hastily covered
my head, and went to sleep. On the following morning we

■::,, ■||ir« •

THB SAINT LOUIS RIVER.

resumed our journey in the midst of a rain storm, the memory
of that night and that cataract, however, haunting me like n
dream. , •

The next perpendicular fall within the bend I have men-
tioned, is some two miles down the stream, and is only about
fifty feet in height, but its grandeur is somewhat enhanced by
the rapids which succeed it, and have a fall of some forty or
fifty feet more. An old trader tells me that I am the first
traveller from the States who has ever taken the trouble actually
to visit these cataracts. If this is a fact, and as the Indians,
so far as I can learn, have never christened them, I claim the
privilege of giving t' em a name. Let them, then, be known
hereafter as the Chippewa Falls. It is a singular circum-
stance that a pine tree might be cut in this interior wilderness,
and if launched in one of the tributaries of the Mississippi,
or in the Saint Louis River, and propelled by favorable winds
alone, could, in process of time, be planted in the hull of a ship
at any sea-port on the globe.

The navigable portior of the Saint Louis, as before remarked, .
extends only about twenty miles from the lake, at which point
is the place legitimately called Fond du Lac. It is an ancient
trading post, and contains about half a dozen white inhabitants,
viz., a worthy missionary and his interesting family. The agent
of the Fur Company and his assistants are half-breeds, and a
most godless set of people they are. It is a genei-al rendez-
vous for several Indian tribes, and when I was there was quite
crowded with the barbarians.

Fond du Lac, so far as the scenery is concerned, is one of
the most truly delightful places that I ever met with in my
life. The first white man who traded here was my friend Mor-
rison, after whom the highest hill in the vicinity was named.
Upon this eminence I spent a pleasant afternoon, revelling
over a landscape of surpassing loveliness. Far below me lay
an extensive natural meadow, on the left of which was a pretty
lake, and on the right a little hamlet composed of log cabins
and bark wigwams. The broad valley of the Saint Louis faded
away to the east, studded with islands, and protected on either
t

''""m

\i\< •>:

iL»i(#*'"**

.,''!'

|»*i))

Pii'

THE SAINT LOUIS RIVER.

side by a range of high wood-crowned hills, beyond which re-
posed in its conscious pride the mighty lake-wonder of the
world. The atmosphere which rested ypon the whole scene
seemed to halo every feature, and with the occasional tinkling
of a solitary cow-bell, combined to fill my heart with inde-
scribable pleasure.

Most of my rambles about this place, were performed in com-
pany with the missionary already mentioned. He informed
me that the surrounding country abounded in rich copper ore,
in agates and cornelians of the first water, and that all the
smaller streams of the country afforded rare trout fishing. If
this end of Lake Superior should become, as I doubt not it
will, famous for its mines, Fond du Lac would bo a most agree-
able place to reside in, as it is easily reached by vessels. 1
was hospitably entertained by this gentleman, and could not
but contrast the appearance of his dwelling Avith that of his
neighbor the French trader. In the one you might see a small
library, a large family Bible, the floor covered with matting,
&c., a neat, tidy, and intelligent wife, and children ; in the
other, a pack of cards, a barrel of whisky, a stack of guns,
and a family whose filthiness was only equalled by the total
ignorance of its various members. And this contrast only in-
adequately portrays the difference between Christianity and
heathenism.

I left Fond du Lac about day-break, with a retinue of
some twenty canoes, which were freighted with Indians bound
to a payment at La Pointe. It was one of those misty sum-
mer mornings when every object in nature wears a bewitching
aspect, and her still small voice seems to whisper to the heart
that it is not the " whole of life to live, nor the whole of death
to die," and when we feel that God is omnipotent and the mind
immortal. But the scenery of this portion of the river is beau-
tiful — beautiful beyond anything I had imagined to exist in
any country on the globe. The entire distance from Fond du
Lac to this place, as before mentioned, is not far from twenty
miles. The river is very broad and deep, and completely filled
with wooded islands ; while on either side extends a range

si J--

THE SAINT LOUIS RIVER.

of mountains, which are as wild and solitary as when brought
into existence.

Every member of the voyaging party seemed to be happy, and
we travelled at our ease for the purpose of prolonging the en-
joyment of the voyage. At one time we landed at the base of
a cliff; and while I made a drawing or ransacked the shore for
agates and cornelians, and the young Indians clambered up a
hillside for roots or berries, the more venerable personages of
the party would sit in their canoes, quietly puffing away at
their pipes as they watched the movements of their younger
companions. Ever and anon might be heard the report of a
gun, or the whiz of an arrow, as we happened to pass the feed-
ing place of a flock of ducks, the nest of an eagle or raven, or
the marshy haunt of a muskrat or otter. Now we surprised a
couple of deer swimming across the river, one of which the
Indians succeeded in capturing ; and now we hauled up our
canoes on a sandy island, to have a talk with some lonely
Indian family, the smoke of whose wigwam had attracted our
attention, rising from between the trees. Our sail down the
river occupied us until about ten o'clock, when we reached the
mouth of the river, and disembarked for the purpose of pre-
paring and eating our breakfast. We landed on the river side
of a long sandy point, and while the Indians were cooking a*
vcnison-steak and a large trout, I rambled over the sand hills ;
and as the sun came out of a cloud and dissipated every vestige
of the morning mist, obtained my first view of Lake Superior,
where, above the apparently boundless plain, I could only dis-
cover an occasional gull, wheeling to and fro as if sporting
with the sunbeams.

|i:

:fm

Ill5-c-:>^|i

I:: '••■.. ■. '"•ill
11' 't ' 'ill' • ■ 'i

"* """lill"'.''

LAKE SUPERIOR.

I HAVE finished my canoe pilgi'imagc, 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 three hundred and sixty miles long, one hun-
dred and forty wide, and fifteen hundred miles in circum-
ference ; its surface is six hundred and twenty-seven feet above
the sea, and its greatest depth seven hundred and ninety-two
feet. 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 mountain land, where the
red man yet reigns in his native freedom. Excepting an occa-
sional picket fort or trading house, it is yet a 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 com-
posed 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

LAKE SUPERIOR.

101

alarmed at the sight of a sunken boulder, which I fancied must
be near the top, and on further investigation have found myself
to bo upwards of twenty feet from the danger of a concussion ;
and I nave 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 seen ; and within a few feet of many of its in-
numerable bluffs, it would be impossible for a ship to anchor.
It is a singular fact that the waters of this lake are miftli
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 gi'cat 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 sunset of the
same day, have stood upon the rocky shoie, 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 in
1846 was composed of one steamboat, one propeller, and
several small schooners, which were chiefly supported by the
fur and copper business. The first vessel, larger than a canoe
or batteaux, that sailed on this lake, was launched in August,
1835 ; she belonged to the American Fur Company, and her
burthen was 113 tons.

A nd 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,

102

LAKE SUPERIOR.

S.H**-*""""'""

f^K.

« iiri!.:::.:;-^;,,,,

m -fe,

||r^*'"S^!

Iriil;

four, and five feet, but the cold is regular and consequently
healthful. The few white people who spend their winters in
this region, are almost as isolated as the inhabitants of Green-
land. 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 wilder-
ness 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 docs
not exist on the earth, and this assertion is corroborated by
the well-known fact that the inhabitants usually live to an ad-
vanced 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 abun-
dant ; of the smaller varieties, almost every northern animal
may be found, excepting the beaver, which has become extinct.
Water-fowl, 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 rivers, they are
found in incredible numbers. As to snakes, you might travel
a thousand miles through the woods and not see a single speci-
men. They are not "native and to the manor born." The
traveller through this region finds but little use for the gun ;
if, however, he Is not too devoted a worshipper of mammon,
he may bring with him a 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 speak of the American and Canadian shores
of Lake Superior.

It is computed that the American coast of this lake extends

LAKE SUPERIOR.

108

to about twice the length of that which belongs to Canada.
Our portion of the northern shore ia* 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 Lawrcnf,e. 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 illu-
sion. On the southern shore of the lake is a range called fhe
Porcupine Mountains, which appear to bo 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 pic-
turesque than those already mentioned. That portion of tho
coast lying between this point and the river Saint Mary, is
low, and with the exception of the Pictured Rocks, uninterest-
ing. Though the shores are not, generally speaking, what we
should call rocky, yet they are distinguished for a variety of
remarkable bluffs. Those alluded to above, arc found on the
east of Point Keweenaw, and extend along the coast some
nine miles. They have been striped with various colors by
mineral drippings, 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 1810. That feature, according to a drawing in ray
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 almojt
fathomless.

A cluster of rocks similar to tho above is found westward of
the Apostle Islands. These, however, are composed of a deep

104

lake; superior.

!sl"4i

^^1

4f*f iskiti^g.

n^S'

'**«;;

red sandstone, and are only about one hundred feet high, cx«
tending along the shore for about two miles. The arches hero
are almost numberless, and exceedingly picturesque and singu-
lar, and you may Avind your way among them in a canoe with-
out 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 terrific when a storm is rag-
ing. All thcsrt 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 vai'os 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.

Near the western extremity of this lake are the Apostle
Islands, which are evidently detachments of a peninsula, run-
ning out in the same direction with Keweenaw, which is known
as La Pointe. The group consists of three islands, and they
stud the water most char^ningly. There is a dreamy summer
beauty aboui them, which made me anxious to linger along
their peaceful and solitary shores. 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 trad-
ing post known as La Pointe. When I was there, it contained
about a dozen inhabited log cabins, and the wigwams of about
three thousand Chippewa 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.

:'f :

■'vV,^"

'J*.

,'? 4;:

•^v;

|-'^H'

''■ ;,'■■■

•"'»

^:-i'%l'

.-';«;■ • •"-■*-;^

i* '

■'*...-.'

-«i' .--'

■■ .^*W-

4 ^>

■«;?,^.

■e^^

4t.^^

«- -\k

.V.V

'%«r-7^'

•<(*

A ' -S

J^ij

lit*'*

*• Vi

^4^^^

■ i-.i

,..---„• i

f^i

'^»^S^;^t

.y.

-.»<•'"'

'^jUff

„t.».iiH ••'•

i.->#i«i».

11 i ■

ii-^":

.in* all'■^u'^l i.>4««h*'rb»»>
>ir, ft nil T

I.:* .

■iinlft ' fcot 5:frl), OX'
!>.«. Tbo »rohc8 licrr
•■ti<tiuuMti"te iM-'fl flingu

p4': iiitni 3".i'i iia\e a stemly ItonU uivi
' ) tlfc cttvc. iit», Jo.), in iheso bluffs an* «l •
, .<a.c *jl ii;(i;t «r« «?<* 4*©p auJ Juru tir*

,.^, , »n kj R »«f)4 ■ I of io^yix weajhwr/- *liif»j^ii iitsue^ ?

Vina like tiiumicr, \>hich u.ust be toj'j-i*?- vl»ou iv hionn -■ • i;.
■Ml the'jo MTifi- aru coveri'd witji a stunutl growth C
All >. ■• and othf'r trees.

Th(^ Iftrgest wland in Lake Siiivr^'-'r ^mloiigi r.o tho Amerirar.
g.vorTim«»»*;*iitt i* t-xi^Hl M«> ^' ir. 1'^ forty miles loa^

and yurics fttiw mv ia tmi wtflca >s\ *i«ik Its hills havo r*?.
,»ltini«io of four biiti'lrcfi hu'i. it ir eMotvi irilh Torobt, auu h&*
, bold Hliore. Diuinjr thp wiut«'i' k i* t'<t*;f»!* im - *u ' itcd. bu'
f M- tlic twf 1*8! .'^iinunc'-' K,»s l^'i't ?l!<^*i>rtgi;!^' «'xp1or«d by t^"
<x>|ipor sp€culat'.»rs. Tttf. n«rifievrs -ifte is bo'4 aud rocly, ba.
t^ie soatheirn short? h^ n rr.ii.ibcr f-i' fmc' bay» and Tiatii!-:

ifbora. The soil ia Ijffim o, )mt disth ^uiiilied for it« fishinp
ts, Aciardin;; to fcbe "(nilixtoa. it i,» t^.^i hojifs of aAl ttn

iftlaudu, which am ovide>it.iy doiachments of a ps^ninsnia, ru-
rjing wit in uw. 8!Uuo diroctioii -with Kewoonaw, wliieh i» ki -ni
a» L» P-.''uto. The group consists* A>f tbr« ' , n!id il- .

■■\ the *«t«;r wost chi^mir r';-. Tbcre i.i a ■ ••. 'uiy S'lmmr
• * 1 i;:e!a,^bich in;i<k we anxiouB to !)>'•;'. t aio»
^1 nnt! rio'.it.i.y 3hor»»f . Tli«y Rrr 'jv^^fe^ with denft
.-.s' a>*<;''VKl from the wat*.'r'j^ t^Tg^i taft isouspicuous heigj'-
i>ft tti'." t-'Jitr*'.' *-. point uf t};,- '.tj'gfst ieknd is sitna-d a ti-H/'
;■:- |«i»J: kj&uwt? t»^ i.a Poir.to, Wh.-'! T wtvs there, it cantalui '
aWa-. :^ -Vmw :l:^*b■^* d b";^ cki^jfw, a»'I lb ; -srigwaui j (»£ nbotr
thrt't: iiiwu^wTid «l.ipjx;wu ' .'= ,' ; TboA- werv aseembK-
'•(•ir to tei-oivi iiieir unnimi »u.si:*J«ierYt>^ '.> Viy.iiiey and .?'/ -
from the gen<?r«il jj'-'pni.iiCJit, '.li? a. i <nfii o j^.t ci^ tintold acn-

:"^^

. Ml .'■%i

"■f!!^f

r^>^| /

W**^

tM.

\ i

. "i

i»:--"V.

vii

''"*:: ■>.'%

I ■

■ «' -

LAKB SUPERIOR.

105

which they had deeded to their ♦' Great Father nnd Protector,"
the I'residont. The sum allotted to each ^as four dollura in
money, and in goods one blanket and a sufRcient amount of
cloth to make a pair of leggins. This was all, and yot many
of these noor wretches had puddled their canoes more than a
thousand miles, to obtain this meagre present. The great
majority had reached La Polnte 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
^i fifty dollars per barrel, and flour at fifteen dollars per hun-
dred. It was understood, however, that when the red barba-
rians should start for their distant homes, the white barbarians
would furnish them with suflicient provisions to take them out
of sight. This u.^happy state of things took such firm hold upon
my feelings tl it my reflections upon the fate of the Indian
tribes prevented me from enjoying my visit on the island.
There is a Protestant missionary cstablishnent at this place,
but the missionaries are compelled to prosecute their ln,bors as
if with tied hands and closed lips, on account of the superior
power of the Romish church. From time immemorial La Pointe
has been t1' 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 evcat of the year. It is also the
recruiting or starting place tor all expeditions to the Mississippi
river, ihero being only two routes, — that by the Brulo 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 arc very large. They are
all remarkably clear, and abound in waterfalls. They invari-
ably 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 qourse 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.

1 ^'H^H

l/v-.

'^.■

106

LAKE SUPERIOR.

!»'|M

l[|;,iii<' •■*"SBi«iWj|

The entire Canadian shore of Lake Superior might bb de-
nominated as bold and rocky, but there may occasionally be
seen a line of tho smoothest beach, as if for the very purpose
of affording protection to the voyaging Indians when exposed
to the dangers of sudden storms. The bluffs are generally of
a green sandstone, and frequently rise to the height of five
hundred feet above the water, like massive bulwarks, which
seem to have battled with the elements for many ages. The
mountains which skirt the northern shore of Superior, form
the dividing ridge between the streams which run into the Lake
and those which take a northerly direction into Hudson's Bay.
After "passing the first and most lofty range, the country for
about fifty miles is mainly made up of low granite hills, when
it settles into a level wilderness, extending, as is supposed, to
the Arctic Sea, and where tamarack swamps may bo seen in
their greatest perfection. This entire region produces but little
for purposes of agriculture.

The two most promiiient peninsulas on this shore arc called
Thunder Cape and Cari'iboo Point. The former is about four-
teen hundred feet high, and frowns upon tho waste of waters,
like a crouching lion, Avhich animal it cloooly resembles in its
outline. When passing near its base, it looms against the sky
in awful grandeur, tho seeming lord and master of the bound-
less wilderness world around. Carriboo Point is Ljss lofty, but
far-famed on account of the hieroglyphics which have been
painted upon its brow in other years, by an Indian race now
supposed to be extinct. In the vicinity of these bluffs, are found
large and beautiful agates.

The Canadian shore of this lake abounds in rocky islands,
but there is only one deserving of particular notice. It lies
in the northeastern part of the lake, and is unquestionably the
greatest natural curiosity in this wilderness, — not even except-
the Chippewa Falls, or the Pictured Cliffs on the southern
shore of Superior. It is found about twenty mil.es from the
main coast, and is supposed to be about a dozen miles in cir-
cumference. The shores are of sandstone, and for the most
part rise abruptly from the water to tho height of four or five

LAKE SUPERIOR.

107

hundred feet. !6ut the ■vvondcr is, that in the centre of this
island lies embosomed one of the most beautiful lakes imagina-
ble. It is about a mile long, and the perpendicular cliffs which
look down upon it, are not far from seven hundred feet in height.
It has an outlet, which is impassable for a canoe, on account of
the rocks and trees that have blocked up the narrow chasm ;
and at the opening of this outlet stands a column of solid rock,
which is estimated to be *cight hundred feet high. * The base is
probably one hundred feet in diameter, and it gradually tapers
off to about twenty feet in thickness, while the summit of this
singular needle is surmounted by one solitary pine tree. The*
waters of this inner lake ar<r clear, but have a blackish appear-
ance, and are very deep. It is so completely hidden from the
surrounding world, that the passing breeze scarcely ever ruffles
its tranquil bosom, and the silence Avhich reigns there, even at
noonday, is intense. In some places the walls which sur-
round the lake appear to have been recently rent asunder,
and partly demolished, as there were immense piles of broken
rocks lying at their base; while in other places the upper
points and edges are overgrown with moss, and from their
brows occasionally depends a cluster of fantastic vines, droop-
ing perpendicularly to the tranquil water, which reproduces
the beautiful pictures in its translucent bosom. The lake is
destitute of fish, and the island of animals, but gulls of every
variety, and in immense numbers fill the air with their wild
screams. The entire island seems to be composed of rocky
materials, but it is everywhere covered with a stunted growth
of vegetation.

Of the countless Indian legends, which create a kind of clas-
sical interest in the scenery of Lake Superior, the most singu-
lar and universal have reference to a noted personage whose
name was Monaboujou ; and as it is a traditionary fact, that
he was, owing to his passion for water, buried in the liquid cen-
tre of tho island I have described, it is meet, I ween, that I
should devote a portion of this chapter to a record of his his-
tory. He was the Noah as well as the Jonah of this portion of
the heathen world, and is said to have been created by Manito

1 ' '^i V

lii

If '■ A ;| •! i

ly '■■*■-■

''"*^

ll;;*'»*!

Wll I

vi'\

108

LAKE SUPERIOR.

for the especial purpose of acting as the ruler of all men, and
guardian of Lake Superior in particular; while some aflBrm
that he was Manito himself. The Indians describe him as a
being of immense size — who could stride across the widest
rivers and grasp the lightning in his hands, and whose voice
was like the roar of Superior in a storm. They also affirm
that he excelled in all the arts of war and of the chase, that
the Chippewa nation are his legitimate descendants, and that
he died at* the advanced age of one thousand winters. At the
mention of his name in the Indian lodges, the children hush
their prattle, and listen with wonder to the tales which are sure
to follow.' It is alleged that he was gifted with the strange
powers of the necromancer, could transform himself into any
animal or inanimate object in nature, at a moment's warning,
and was wont to hold converse with every living creature at
his will. There is not a headland on Lake Superior, or a river
emptying into it, which is not hallowed in Indian story by his
wonderful exploits. The revolving seasons were at his com-
mand. He covered the earth with snow, and fettered the
streams with ice. At his mandate the mountains were covered
with verdure, and northern flowers bloomed in surpassing
beauty. He commanded, and the terrible storm-winds broke
from their prison caves, and lashed the mighty plain of waters
into pure white foam ; and the zephyr, which scarcely caused
a leaf to tremble, or a ripple on the sleeping waves, was also
attributed to his power. In fine, the (Jualiiications of this
noted individual were as numerous hb they seem to us incon-
gruous and heathenish. To the philosopher, however, these
glimpses into the mythology of the aborigines are not without
their value, and this conviction is my apology for recording
them. Another name for Menaboujou was Hiawatha.

The death of Menaboujou was an important era in the his-
tory of the Chippewa nation. During his life the calamities
of war sMid intemperance were unknown, but the Evil One hav-
ing challenged him to mortal combat, a desperate battle was
fought between the mighty potentates, which resulted in the
triumph of evil, and the extinction of all good, in the person of

LAKE SUPERIOR.

109

its chief author. The battle o^urred in the midst of a thun-
der-storm and on the summit of Thunder CapOj the only wea-
pons used being clubs of immense si;^, made of the pine and
spruce ; and when the result was known, a mournful lamenta-
tion was heard throughout all the land. The entire Chippewa
nation attended the funeral of the departed, and when they
were bearing his huge corse to the lake within the nameless
island, a rock was seen to rise out of the water, as a monument
planted there by the Great Spirit, to perpetuate the memory of
the beloved Mcnaboujou. The rock alluded to, rises to the
height of about thirty feet, and bears pu astonishing resem-
blance to a human head.

¥1

f 1 ■ i. .-'-le

¥%

Pli)'-^'',f

11^

j,- * ■Btl f ' ' ' P

ijtjk V-*,

hi^;l"i^,.t';|

svm'A

m-'^:%

Ii>

i „«.>"•<#■«»«••*""*'

THE VOYAGEUR.

rr ..|:: r

|t, ■ ,,„ihi«wi*»i>i'«|i

ii '""'"Si

?'^?^«SS

'■-«7»l

If****.-:.

|v, Nil!

■ ,5 ; \ ;.'

■■"'■■■ '.i,

Generally speaking, the voyageur of the northwest is the
shipping merchant of the wilderness ; for his principal businesB
is to transport furs from the interior country to the frontier set-
tlements, or merchandise from tho settlements into the interior.
By birth he is half French, and half Indian, but in habits, man-
ners, and education, a full-blooded Indian. Like the Indian,
his home is where he may happen to pitch his tent. His usual
possessions consist of a good supply of bark canoes, and he ever
holds himself in readiness, either to transport good:?, or act as
a guide and companion to the traveller Avho may require his
services. His dress is something less than half civilized, and
his knowledge of the world equal to that of his savage brethren ;
— amiable, even to a fault, but intemperate and without a reli-
gion. The hardships to which ho exposes himself at mid-win-
ter, when his snow-dlioes take ilie place of his canoe, are in-
credible ; but in all places, and at all times, he is a happy and
contented being. His main stay in the way of food is salted
pork, and for that reason has ho been nicknamed a " pork-
eater."

It was in a company of some fifty men, composed of voya-
geurs-and Indians, and commanded by Allen ]Vff>rrison, that 1
performed a part of my pilgrimage to the head waters of the
Mississippi, and partly around the shores of Lake Superior.
There were ten conoes in our ^t'ei; thi largest (about forty
feet long) was occapied by Morrison, m^'self, and five picked
men. Ho was on his annual visit to the north, to attend the
Jndian payments, and the great majority of the Indians tra-

'■1^W

k*iP '

jti *•

'S^mm

•»».

r^'Wy

■s.

^'.

M:.

>^T

■f^^

m,,

' *■ -f '■'liA.:-^:'^'^'^^

..I*""

v.mMK"^'*

'*^(fc

■.■•"•S|,

If ii'. wb'-

-►•if- .'.:-- . *'

A«vtm,

'•<H1

'Hi

Nile's ■

lili V o** ». <i E (

OKKEn vi^fjY spralsTis;, th\.> voyauour of tho iio.thAVcat i.s th'
ghipjiing inorchaiit of tho wililernuf ^ ; for liis princiiw' l.)UKillo^■
ih to transport furs from liio aitcriur country lo the frontier y«M
tit:nicnU", m mt li^lvinlKr frfim thi' setflomctitrf into the interiot
P' v,«f»|-. ho u» \wh i'><'n<rh. and huil' lnd»tt,i>?Jt hi tabits, mai'

•18r«*^* r>) ?i^y V?

VI -^ ,"*rt6e«?, nndhf; evf'
u ; . . . > . ■• iratopott giKnlij, or act rit

» f-'jMc tv\vt| ;»»• H'hn loay requiro b>f*

•?»; - l^i hnlf eivUized, ancs

a* fe««w3«*l5« ••! thevcrt't e){t«A. : 5g« brothrctv

—iiRUaiMt 3i-??t tri » tVtit, but iiitvc i.<.;i~au- »ifc>4 without a re^
v,i.jD. 1 I'i liardshipB to whirh h," c qioaes himself at mid-wii!
ler, vfh«t his saow-rihoofj lake thf? place of iii>s canoo, aro >r-
oreUible hat m all ji];ices, and at all times, ho is r. happy ap«
c«)Kt<mt«d dwiug. Ilia inaiii'stay in tlio W4;r of f-vn! is ealtt-r
,'/i>k,uf.(^ ■ tiiat rcadon has ho b<'«n tiiftkttanH'd a *' pur!:

h *a; tr; twsripany of soiuo Hfty u»cn, compwjod of Voys
.? T>*'?;iMlft Iv'I^i^a:-, and commatided hv Allen >i,i.)iriaoiJ, that

.fiM ft pai't^ctti my pilgritpago to the hoiid waters of ti^
.•'[. ' »n!t». ^Jiti partly around tho (shores of Luko Superit"^
'fhcj'.- **r^' tvn canopB in our /ctsd ; fhe IsrpjMt (about f' :"t^
fcoi brtg? t^« ocatviiod by Morrison, ^nyacif and five pickei
tucn. K.' '•■; :-' hiH annual vint i? ;» nortJ', to attend thv
Jiidiao p;m: vrtii% ■ il the preat n»<^mnty "f the ludiaus tra-

-ip-

pori

■■•'1' '■

'■1,

""■"■■itr-.s

''C.^^

THE VOTAGEUR.

Ill

veiled under his flag, partly for the fun of it, but principally
for the purpose of drawing upon him for f jod, which he always
dealt out to them with a liberal hand.

Our time of starting was at day-break, and having paddled
three pipes, (about eighteen miles,) we generally landed upon
a pleasant sand-bar, or in some leafy nook, and spent an hour
or more in cooking and eating our breakfast. A " pipe," J
should here remark, is what a sporting gentleman might call a
heat of six miles, at tho end of which our oarsmen would rest
themselves, while enjoying a smoke of ten minutes. Our prin-
cipal foe ;l consisted of pork and dough, which were invariably
boiled in a tin kettle. Whenever we happcrod to have any
game, or fish, this rarity was also placed in tho same kettle
with the pork and dough, all of which we .disposed of v.ith the
assistance of our fingers and a largo krifc. As Mr. Morrison
and myself were acknowledged to belong to tho "first class"
of people, we were privileged to use (without giving oflFence) a
small quantity of tea and maple sugar, which we had brought
with us. Simple as was our food, it was as wholesome, and at
that time as palatable to my taste, as any that I could have
obtained from Delmonico's. I was in the habit of devouring,
and digesting too, long strings of heavy deugh, which would,
under ordinary circumstances, h'lvo destroyed me. Our meals,
however, were always looked forward to with pleasure, and
were considered a luxury to bo enjoyed only twice during the
day, — breakfasting, as we did, at ten, and supping soon after
pitching our tents in the evening. Fifty miles per day, when
there were no portages or rapids to pass, were considered a
good run. The two or three hours before bed-time I generally
spent in conversation with Morrison, the voyageurs, or Indians,
— and usually retired with my head as full of wilderness ima-
ges, as a bee-hive at swarming time. The only trouble with
my ideas was, that they created a great excitement, but would
not swarm according to my will. My couch (a part of which
was appropriated to Morrison) consisted of a soft spot of ground,
^hilo my gun and pouch answered for a pillow, and my only
covering was a large green blanket. When the weather was

^K.

*>*^*

lar"*!

THB VOTAaSUR.

clear, vre did not pitch our tent, but slept under a tree, or
used tlio star-studded sky for a canopy. After such a night,
I have awakened, and found my blanket white with frozen
dew.

The pleasures of this mode of travelling are manifold. The
scenery that you pass through is of the wildest character, tht>
people you meet with " are so queer," and there is a charm in
the very mystery and sense of danger which attend the wind-
ings of a wilderness stream, or the promontories and bays of a
lonely lake. The only apparent miseries which befall the
voyageur, are pT/ractcd rain storms and musquitos. On one
occasion, while coasting Lake Superior, we were overtaken by
a sudden storm, but succeeded in reaching the shore (about a
mile off) without bejng swamped. It was about sundown, and
owing to the wind and rain we were unable to make a fire, and
consequently went supperless to bed. For my part, I looked
upon our condition as quite wretched, and cared little what
became of me. We had landed on a fine beach, where we
managed to pitch our tents, and there threw ourselves down
for the purpose of sleeping ; and though wet to the skin, I
never slept more soundly in my life, — for the roaring of Lake
Superior in a storm, is a most glorious lullaby. On the fol-
lowing morning, I was awakened by the surf washing against
mi/ feet.

As to musquitos, had I not taken with me a quantity of
bar-netting, I believe the creatures would have eaten me. But
with this covering fastened to four sticks, I could defy the
wretches, and I was generally lulled to sleep by their annoy-
ing hum, which sometimes seemed to me like the howl of in-
fernal spirits.

The only animals that ever had the daring to annoy us,
were a species of gray wolf, which sometimes succeeded in
robbing us of our food. On one occasion, I remember we had
a short allowance of pork, and for the purpose of protecting
it with greater care than usual, Mr. Morrison had placed it in
a bag under his head, when he went to sleep.

^'At midnight, in his un-guarded tent," his head was sud-

THK VOYAQEUR.

118

it;;*i

denly thumped against ho ground, and by the timo he was
fairly awakened, ho had the peculiar Batiefaction of seeing a
wolf, on the keen run, with the bag of pork.

Tho moro prominent incidents connected with canoe voy-
aging, which relieve the monotoity of a long voyage, are the
making of portages, the passing of rapids, and the singing of
songs.

Portages are made for the purpose of getting below or above
thoso falls which could not •bo passed in any other manner,
also for the purpose of going from one stream to another, and
sometimes they are made to shorten the distance to be tra-
velled, by crossing points or peninsulas. It was invariably tho
habit of our voyageurs to run a race, when they came in sight
of a portage, and they did not consider it ended until their
canoec were launched in the water at the farther end of the
portage. The consequence of this singular custom is, that
making a portage is exciting business. Two men will take
the largest canoe upon their shoulders, and cross the portage
on a regular trot, stopping, however, to rest themselves and
enjoy a pipe at the end of every thousand paces. On landing,
the canoe is not allowed to touch the bottom, but you must get
out into the water and unload it while yet afloat. The loads
of furs or merchandise which these men sometimes carry, are
enormous. I have seen a man convey three hundred and fifty
pounds, up a steep hill two hundred feet high, and that too
without once stopping to rest; and I heard the story, that
there were three voyageurs in tho northern wilderness, who
have been known, unitedly, to carry tiventy-onc hundred
founds over a portage of eight miles. In making portages, it
is occasionally necessary to traverse tamarack swamps ; and
the most difficult one in the northwest lies midway between
Sandy Lake and the Saint Louis River. It is about nine miles
in length, and in crossing it you sometimes have to wade in
pure mud up to your middle. On this route I counted the
wrecks of no less than seven canoes, which had been aban-
doned by tho over-fatigued voyageurs ; and I also noticed the
grave of an unknown foreigner, who had died in this horrible
8

I.:':

^.^

r^. , I.

.,^.;i,'

i..W""

III

■tifTslil

;;>'3v.«e

114

THK VOYAQEUR.

place, from tho effect of a poisonous root which ho had eaten.
Here, in this gloomy solitude hud ho breathed his last, with
none to cool hid feverish brow but a poor ignorant Indian ; —
alone, and more than a thousand leagues from his kindred and
home. **

But the excitement of passing tho rapids of a large river like
the MissiHsippi, exceeds that of any other operation connected
with voyaging. The strength, dexterity, ond courage required
and employed for passing 'them, aro astonishing. I have been in
a canoe, and on account of a stono or floating tree have seen it
held for some minutes perfectly still, when midway up a foaming
rapid, merely by two men with long polos, standing at each end
of tho canoe. If, at such a time, one of the poles should slip, or
one of tho men make a wrong move, tho canoe would bo taken
by the water and dashed to pieces cither on tho surrounding
rocks, or the still more rocky shore. It is, however, much
more dangerous to descend than to ascend a rapid ; for it is
then almost impossible to stop a canoe, when under full head-
way, and if you happen to strike a rock, you will find your
wa/ery canoe no better than a sieve. To pass down the Sault
Saint Marie, with an experienced voyugeur, is one of tho most
interesting, yet thrilling and fearful feats that can be per-
formed. There are rapids and falls, however, which cannot at
any time be passed with safety, and great caution is required
in approaching them.

One of the more prominent traits of the voyageur's charac-
ter, is his cheerfulness. Gay and mirthful by nature and habit
— patient ond enduring at labor — seeking neither ease nor
wealth — and, though fond of his family, it is his custom to let
the morrow take care of itself, while he will endeavor to im-
prove the present hour as he thinks proper. He belongs to a
race which is entirely distinct from all others on the globe. It
is a singular fact, that when most troubled, or when enduring
the severest hardships, they will joke, laugh, and sing their
uncouth songs — the majority of which are extemporaneous, ap-
propriate to the occasion, and generally of a rude and licen-
tious character. Indeed it is said of some, that they will travel

TUB VOYAOEUR.

116

liundrcdu of miles without onoo ooasing to ning, nnd without
twice singing tho same song. They arc invariably sung in
Canadiun French, and tho following literal translations may bo
looked upon as favorable specimens of songs, which I first heard
on the Mississippi.

f ^t Startiitfl.

Homo, wo nro loavinK thoo !
Rivor, on thy boMoiii to sail I
Clioorfiil let our hearts ho,
Suppurtcd by hope.
Awiiy, then, iiwiiy ! Away, then, awiiy !

ScenoH of beauty will we poHs ;
SucnoH that make us lovo our life :
Oanie of the wiUlornoHe our food.
And our Hhimbcrs guarded by tho Btariii.
Away, th:i, away ! Away, then, away !

Homo, we are leaving thoo !
Rivor, on thy bosom to sail !
Clieerful let our hearts be,
Supported by hope.
Away, tiien, away ! Away, then, away !

Wit Mag.

The river that we sail
Is tho pride of our country ;
The womou that wo lovo
Are the fairest upon earth.
Row, thou, row ! Row, thou, row I

Toilsome is our way.
Dangerous is our way ;
But what matter ?
Our trust is in Providence.
Row, then, row ! Row, then, row !

The river that wo sail
Is tho pride of our country ;
The women that wo love
Are the fairest upon earth.
Row, then, row ! Row, then, row I

116

THE VOYAOBUR.

*•""■

: ■ ■ ■* Ih

f|[e Sietnrn.

Joy, joy, our home is not far ;
Love-smiles are waiting us ;
And we shall be happy !
Happy, happy, happy.
Bend to your oars ! Bend to your oars I

Loud, loud, let our voices he,
Echoing our gratitude ;
Many leagues have we voyaged,
But, soon shall we be at rest.
Bend to your oars, brothers ! Bend to your oars I

Joy, joy, our home is in sight;
Love-smiles are waiting us.
And we shall be happy !
Happy, happy, happy !
Home 1 Bend to your oars 1 Bend to your oars !

The same canoe in which I explored the Upper Mississippi,
also bore me in safety partly around the shores of Lake Supe-
rior : first, eastward, along the northern shore, then back again
to Fond du Lac ; and afterwards along the southern shore to the
Apostle Islands. Delighted as I was with my canoe wander-
ings on the head-waters of the Mighty River, I am constrained
to yield the palm to Superior. For many days did I explore
its picturesque bays and extended sweeps of shore, following
the promptings of my Mjayward will, and storing my mind with
its unnumbered legends, gathered from the lips of my Indian
companions. I seldom took a paddle in my hand, unless it
were for exercise, but usually employed my time, when the
weather was calm, by reading or sketching ; and often, when
the sunshine made mo sleepy, have been lulled into a dreamy
repose, by the measured music of the oars, mingling with the
wild chanting of the voyagcurs. It was the custom with my
companions, whenever they caught me in those lucid intervals,
to startle me, by a piercing whoop, which invariably announced
a race upon the watery plain. And then, indeed, was it u
most exciting spectacle to witness the canoes gliding to the
destined goal. Whenever I expressed such a desire, the party

THE YOTAGBUB.

IIT

came to a halt upon the '.ore, and then it was that I mounted
the headlands to gather borries, or obtain a bird's-eye prospect
of the lake. At times, the roar of a distant waterfall would
fall upon the ear, and I was wont to beg an hour's furlough
for the purpose of catching a dozen or two of trout in the
waters of a nameless stream. But my chief employment, when-
ever we landed, was to gather agates and pebbles. In many
places the gravelly shores were completely covered with them ;
and often, when attracted by one of a particular color or an
unusual size, and when deceived by the marvellous transpa-
rency of the water, have I found myself far beyond my depth
in the sleeping waves, which event was about the only one that
could bring me to my senses. Many a time, like a very child,
have I rambled along the beach for miles, returning to my canoe
completely loaded down with my treasures, which I sometimes
carried with me on my journey for many miles, and then threw
away to make room for others which I thought still more beau-
tiful. Delightful, indeed, were those summer days on the
bosom of that lonely lake. They are associated with my trea-
sured dreams, and I cannot but aigh when I remember that I
may never be privileged to enjoy the like again. My reason
Avould not stop the tide of civilization which i| sweeping to the
^ remote north and the far Pacific ; but if the wishes of my heart
were realized, none but the tr«j worshippers of Nature should
ever be permitted to mar the solitude of the wilderness with
the aoiig of Mammon.

Jiat, if that wei-e possible, the nights that I spent upon the
shores of the great northern lake have made a deeper impres-
sion upon me than those summer days. Never before had the
ocean of tlie sky and the starry world appeared so supremely
brilliant. Seldom would my restless spirit allow me an un-
broken slumber from nightfall until dawn, and I was often in
a wakeful mood, even after the camp-fires were entirely out,
and my rude companions were all asleep. One of those won-
derful nights I never can forget. I had risen from my couch
upon the sand, and after walking nearly half a mile along the
beach, I passed a certain point, and found myself in full view

1/ ''» )

• Kil

■ ■ -i

\il

i^i

118

THE VOTAGEUR.

of the following scene. Black, and death-like in its repose,
was the apparently illimitable p^ ain of water ; above its out-
line, on the left, were the strangely beautiful northern lights,
shooting their rays to the very zenith ; on the right was a clear
full moon, making a silvery pathway from my feet to the hori-
zon ; and before, around, and above me, floating in *the deep
cerulean, were the unnumbered and mysterious stars. The
only sound that fell upon my ear was the occasional splash of
a tiny wave, as it melted upon the shore. Long and intently
did I gaze upon the scene, until, in a kind of frenzy, or bewil-
derment, I threw myself upon the earth, and was soon in a
deep sleep. The first gleam of sunshine roused me from
slumber, and I returned to our encampment in a thoughtful
and unhappy mood. My friends had not wondered at my ab-
sence, when they awoke, "for they supposed that I had gone
merely to take my accustomed swim. The voyageur's life is
indeed a romantic one ; but it will not do to talk about it for-
ever, and I therefore bring my description to a close.

I if --if^lIlM
If';'' -b-l

• .5 ■ ;. ■%

THE £!OPrER REGION.

I AM the owner of a few sLares of copper stock, but exceed-
ingly anxious to dispose of my interest, ut the earliest possible
moment, and on the most reasonable term*!. This remark de-
fines my position with regard to copper in general, and may
be looked upon as thtf text from which 1 shall proceed to make
a few general observations on the copper region of Lake Supe-
rior. I am curious to find out how it will seem, for the public
at large, to road something which is not a purchased puff.
Those, therefore, who are unaccustomed to simple matters of
fact, will please pass on to another chapter of my book,
or lay it down as the most insipid volume that was ever pub-
lished.

It is undoubtedly true, that all the hills and mountains sur-
rounding this immense lake, abound in valuable minerals, of
which the copper, in every form, is the most abundant.
The lamented Douglas Houghton has published the opinion,
that this region contains the most extensive copper mines in
the known world. The discoveries which have been made
during the last three years would lead one to suppose this
opinion to be founded in truth.

Not to mention the ship loads of rich ore that I have seen at
different times, I would, merely to give my reader an idea of
what is doing here, give the weight of a few distinguished dis-
coveries that I have actually seen.

The native copper boulder, discovered by the traveller Henry,
in the bod of the Ontonagon river, and now in Washington,
originally weighed thirty-eight hundred pounds ; a copper mass

i^l

I, -'m^

120

THE COPPER REGION.

i-i ' A

i - !?'■

,:p

ii»«"«»»,

"^tl.

of the imme material lately found near Copper Harbor,
weighed twelve hundred pounds ; at Copper Falls, the miners
are now at work (1846) upon a vein of solid ore, which already
measures twenty feet in length, nine in depth, and seven and a
half inches m thickness, which must weigh a number of tons ;
and at Eagle River another boulder has lately been brought to
light, weighing seventeen hundred pounds.

As to native silver, the Eagle River valley has yielded, the
largest specimen jet found about this lake, the weight of which
was si;c pounds tea ounces. These are mineral statistics from
which ittay be drawn as great a variety of conclusions as thei t
are minds.

The numbfer of mining companies which purport to be in
operation on the American shore of Lake Superior and on our
islands, is said to be one hundred; and»the number of stock
shares is not far from three hundred thousand. But notwith-
standing all the fuss that has been, aqd is still made, about the
mining; op<'rations here, a nmelting furnace has not yet been
erected, and only three companies, up to the present time,
have made any shipments of ore. The oldest of these is the
Lake Superior Company ; the most successi'ul, the Pittsburg
and Boston Company ; and the other is the Copper Falls Com-
pany, all of which are confined in their operations to Point
Keweenaw.

This point is at present the centre of attraction to those
who are worshipping the copper Mammon of the age. It is a
mountainous district, covered with a comparatively useless pine
forest, exceedingly rocky and not distinguished for its beauti-
ful scenery. As to the great majority of the mining companies
alluded to, they will undoubtedly sink a good deal more money
than they can possibly make ; and for the reason, that they
are not possessed of sufficient capital to carry on the mining
business properly, and are managed by inexperienced and vi-
sionary men — a goodly number of whom have failed in every
business in Avhich they ever figured, and who are generally ad-
venturers, determined to live by speculation instead of honest
labor. The two principal log cabin cities of Point Keweenaw,

,'■>/>»!»}«..

tfthitvi

THE COPPER REGION.

121

arc Copper Harbor and Eagle River. The former is quite a
good harbor, and supports a vacated garrison, a newspaper, a
very good boarding-house, and several intemperance establish-
ments. The latter has a fine beach for a harbor, a boarding-
house, a saw-mill, and a store, where drinking is the principal
business transacted. The number of resident inhabitants in
the two towns I was unable to learn, but the sum total I sup-
pose wo lid amount *to fifty souls.

AltofjOthcr perhaps five hundred miners and clerks may be
engage 1 on the whole Point, while about as -•'.any more, during
the summer^ are hanging about the general stopping places on
the shore, or the working places in the interior. This brother-
liood is principally composed of upstart geologists, explorers,
and location speculators. From all that I can learn, about
the same state of things exists on the Canada side of the lake.
T^venty companies* are already organized for that section of
country, the most promising of which is the Montreal Mining
Company ; but not a pound of ore has yet been smelted or
taken to market, so that the "subject theme," for the present,
is as barren of real interest there, as in our own territory.
Rationally speaking, the conclusion of the whole matter is just
this : the Lake Superior region undoubtedly abounds in valu-
;ible minerals, but as yet a sufficient length of time has not
elapsed to develop its resources ; three quarters of the people
(the remaining quarter are among the most worthy of the land)
now engaged in mining operations, are what might bo termed
dishonest speculatoi's and inexperienced adventurers : but there
is no doubt that if a now order of things should be brought
into existence here, all those who are prudent and industrious
would accumulate fortunes.

I ought not to leave this brazen theme, without alluding to
the science of geology as patronized in the mineral region.
Not only does the nabob stockholder write pamphlets about
the mines of the Ural mountains, and other neighboring regions,
l)ut even the broken-down New York merchant, who now sells
whisky to the poor miner, stroke? his huge whiskers, and de-
scants upon the black oxyd, the native ore, and the peculiar

% -ff

t".k^l

f^iVHi

■ MmmWM

s M

m^^

\.'m

|jhfg^

f:; :^

l'->*'?

5;^-;,v>^f;|y

■»■■■.■■ 1 ' ' t

lilt: ,^^\ ^^K;

m^^i ,*.■

122

THE COPPER REGION.

formation of every hillBide in the country. Without exception,
I believe, all the men, womei and children residing in the cop-
per cities, have been crystalized into finished geologists. It
matters not how limited their knowledge of the English lan-
guage may be, for they look only to the surface of things ; it
matters not how empty of common sense their brain--3hambers
may be, they are wholly absorbed in sheeting their minds and
hearts with the bright red copper, and are all loudly eloquent
on their favorite theme.

But the grand lever which they use to advance their intereste,
is the word " conglomerate," which answers as a general de-
scription of the surrounding country. You stand upon a com-
manding hill-top, and whilst lost in the enjoyment of a fine
landscape, a Copper Harbor "bear" or "bull," recently from
Wall street, will slap you on the shoulder, and startle the sur-
rounding air with the following yell : " That whole region, sir,
is conglomerate, and exceedingly rich in copper and silver."
You ask your landlady for a drop of milk to flavor your cofiee,
and she will tell you " that her husband has exchanged the old
red cow for a conglomerate location somewhere in the interior,"
thereby proving that a comfortable living is a secondary con-
sideration in this life. You happen to see a little girl arrang-
ing some rocky specimens in her baby-house, and on your ask-
ing her name, she will probably answer — " Conglomerate the
man, my name, sir, is Jane." But enough. It will not do for
me to continue in this strain, for fear that my readers will, like .
my mining friends, be made crazy by a remarkable conglomer-
ate literary specimen from the mineral region.

SAULT SAINT MARIE.

ji ;|i tp

OnK more letter from this place, and I shall take my leave
of Lake Siverior. Saint Marie was formerly a trading post
of venctvn: it is now a village of considerable business; and
as the resources of the mineral region are developed, will un-
doubtedly become a town of importance in a commercial point
of view ; and the contemplated ship canal through this place
(which would allow a boat from Buffalo to discharge her freight
or passengers at Fo'>d Du Lac) ought not to be delayed a single
year. There is a garrison at this point ; the society is good,
bad, and indifferent, and in the summer sear.on it is one of the
busiest little places in the country. At the present time its
inhabitants are in a state of unusual excitement, on account of
a cold-blooded murder recently committed here. The victim
was a brother of Henry R. Schoolcraft, the well-known author,
and the assassin was John Tanner. The deed was performed
in open daylight, and the deceased was killed by a bullet shot
from an ambush, while he was walking along the road. From
all that I have heard, it appears that this man Tanner was born
in Virginia, and having been kidnapped by the Indians on the
Ohio, when a boy, has for forty-six years led the life of an
Indian, but performing the duties of an interpreter. He is the
same man, moreover, who went to New York in 1830, and pub-
lished a history of hia life and adventures. It is said that he, '
many years ago, had a quarrel with Mr. Schoolcraft, the author,
but as that gentleman resided at the east, and there was no
chance of Tanner's having an opportunity to revenge himself
upon his enemy, he not long ago declared his intention of kill-

vmM'^

Wjl-tAl^H^H

WmL

y^rajgi'

lii*'

m-<i

is. 1.A

■%

;%-

lr^,':'iM.

124

SAULT SAINT MARIE.

ing the brother, who resided here as a trader. The threat was
treated us a joke, but terminated too fatally. A party of white
men and Indians is now on Tanner's trail, but the prospect of
capturing him is, alas, uncertain, and the white savage will pro-
bably seek a homo in the Hudson's Bay Territory. But I in-
tend this to be a piscatorial letter, and must therefore change
my tunc.

The river Saint Marie, opposite this village, is about two
miles wide, and having found its way out of a deep bay of the
ocean lake, it here rushes over a ledge of rocks in great fury,
and presents, for the distance of nearly a mile, a perfect sheet
of foam, and this spot is called the Sault, signifying falls. The
entire height of the fall is about thirty feet, and after the waters
have expressed, in a murmuring roar, their unwillingness to
leave the bosom of Superior, they finally hush themselves to
sleep, and glide onward, as if in a dream, along the picturesque
shores of a lonely country, until they mingle with the waters of
Lake Huron.

The principal fish of this region are trout and white-fish,
which ere among the finest varieties in the world, and are here
found in their gr'eatest perfection. Of the trout, the largest
species of Lake Superior is called the lake trout, and they vary
from ten to sixty pounds in weight. Their flesh is precisely
similar to that of the salmon in appearance, but they are not
as delicious as an article of food. . The Indians take them in
immense quantities, with the gill-net, during the spring and
summer, where the water is one hundred feet deep ; but in the
autumn, when the fish hover about the shores, for the purpose
oi' spawning, the Indians catch them with the spear by torch-
light. They also have a mode of taking them in the winter
through the ice. After reaching the fishing-ground, they cut a
hole in the ice, over which they erect a kind of wigwam, and
in which they seat themselves for action. They attach a piece
of meat to a cord as bait, which they lower and pull up for the
purpose of attracting the trout, thereby alluring the unsuspect-
ing creature to the top of the hole, when they pick it out with
a spear. An Indian has been known to catch a thousand weight

b\UI.T SAINT MARIE.

12i

in one day, in this novel manner. But as the ice on Lake Su-
perior is seldom suffered to become very thick, on account of
the frequent storms, it sometimes happens that these solitary
fishermen are borne away from the shore, and perish in the
bosom of the deep.

My mode of fishing for laks trout, however, was wjth the
hook. In coasting along the lake in my canoe, I sometimes
threw out about two hundred fee'j of line, to which was attached
a stout hook and u piece of pork, and I seldom tried this ex-
periment for an hour, without capturing a fifteen or twenty
pounder. At other -times, when the lake was still, and I was
in the mood, I have paddled to where the water was fifty feet
in depth, and with a drop-line have taken, in twenty minutes,
more trout than I could eat in a fortnight, which I generally
distributed among my Indian companions.

A fish called ciscowet, is unquestionably of the trout genus,
but much more delicious, and seldom found to weigh more tha i
a dozen pounds. They are a very beautiful fish, peculiar 1 o
this lake, and at the present time almost too fat to be palatable .
Their habits are similar to those of the trout, and they are
taken in the same manner.

But the fish of this region, and of the world, is the common
trout. The five rivers which empty into Lake Superior on the
north, and the thirty streams which run from the south, all
abound in this superb fish, which vary from ten to forty ounces
in weight. But the finest place for this universal favorite, in
this region, is, without any doubt, the Falls of Saint Mario.
At this spot they are in season throughout the year, from whicli
circumstance I am inclined to believe that there must be several
varieties, which closely resemble each other. At one time you
may fish all day and not capture a single specimen that will
weigh over a pound, and at another time you may take a boat-
load of them, which will average from three to four pounds in
weight. My favorite mode of trouting at this place has been
to enter a canoe and cast anchor at the foot of the rapids,
where the water was ten or fifteen feet deep, but owing to its
manellous clearness, appeared to be about three, and where

f : V,^'

tp-U

*"ma

m^ 'i.

126

8AULT SAINT MARIE.

ir [1

; i!

r^.

Sjj*>

the bed of the river or strait is completely covered with snow-
white rocks. I usually fished with a fly or artificial minnow,
and was never disappointed in catching a fine assortment when-
ever I went out. My favoi ice spot was about midway between
th«i American and Canadian shores, and there have I spent
whole days enjoying the rarest sport ; now looking with wonder
at the wall of foam between me and the mighty lake ; now gaz-
ing upon the dreamy-looking scenery on either side and far
below me ; and anon peering into the clear water to watch the
movements of the trout as they darted /rom the shady side of
one rock to another, or leaped completely out of their native
element to seize the hovering fly. I have taken trout in more
than one half of the United States, but have never seen a spot
where they were so abundant as in this region ; but I must ac-
knowledge that there are streams in New England and New
York where I have thrown the fly with more intellectual enjoy-
ment than in the river Saint Marie.

But I must devote a paragraph to the white-fish of Lake Su-
perior. They are of the shad genus, and with regard to flavor
are second only to their salt-water brethren. They are taken
at all seasons of the year, with gill-nets and the seine, in the
deep waters of the lake ; at this point, however, the Indians
catch them with a scoop-net, and in the following manner. Two
Indians jump into a canoe above the rapids, and while one navi-
gates it among the rocks and through the foaming waters, the
other stands on the look-out, and with the speed of lightning
picks out the innocent creatures while working their way up the
stream unconscious of all danger. This is a mode of fishing
which requires great courage, immense strength, and a steady
nerve. A very slight mistake on the part of the steersman, or
a false movement of the net-man, will cause the canoe to be
swamped, when the inmates have to struggle with the foam
awhile, until they reach the still water, and then strike for the
shore, there to be laughed at by their rude brethren of the wil-
derness, while the passing stranger will wonder that they should
attempt such dangerous sport. But accidents of this kind sel-
dom happen, and when they do the Indians anticipate no dan-

T"*"*!^.,,

SAULT SAINT MARIE.

127

gor, from the fact that they arc all such export swimmers. It
took me three days to muster sufficient courage to go down
these rapids in a canoe with an Indian, and though I performed
the feat without being harmed, I was so frightened that I did
not capture a single fish, though I must have seen, within my
reach, upwards of a thousand. The white-fish, cisoowet, and
lake trout have already become an article of export from this*
region, and I believe the time is not far distant when the fish-
eries of Lake Superior will be considered among the most lucra-
tive of the Union.

At the several distances of two or three miles from the vil-
lage are two streams, called Carp River and Dead River, which
also afford some capital trout fishing, but the black flies and
musquitos are intolerable upon both of them.

L..»«tt|

'> r'-f

MACKINAW.

-ft)

."f

^<*^i

£}-'

»1. ■•■' "... ■.: " ■• ■ ■
fix A / J- . '. - ■

I NOAV write from Mackinaw, the beautiful, which studs the
waters of the north, as does the northern star its own cerulenii
home. But what can I say about this island that will be new,
since " everybody" now pays it a brief visit while journeying in
the West? It is indeed one of the most unique and delightful
places in the world. Its shores are laved by the waters of Su-
perior, Michigan, and Huron, und rising abruptly as it docs to
a conppicuous height, it seems as if planted there by nature as
a fortress, for the cxpress.purpose of protecting the lakes from
which it sprung. I first approached it from the north, on a miM
and hazy afternoon, and as it loomed before me, enveloped in u
purple atmosphere, I looked upon it in silence, almost fearing
that even the beating of my heart would dispel what I thought
to be a mere illusion. As our vessel approached, however, it
gradually changed into a dreamy reality, and I could distin-
guish its prominent characteristics. First, was a perpendicu-
lar bluff, crowned with a diadem of foliage, at the foot of which
was an extensive beach, occupied by an Indian encampment,
where the rude barbarians were sunning themselves like tur-
tles, playing fantastic games, repairing their canoes, makini;
mats, or cooking their evening meal, as fancy or necessity im-
pelled. One sudden turn, and our vessel was gliding gently
into a crescent bay, which was skirted with a cluster of trading
houses and ancient looking dwellings, above which, on a bluff,
was a snow-white fortress, with soldiers marching to and fro
upon the battlements. '

The circumference of this island is about nine miles, and its

wEitv;<,

MACKINAW.

129

shores are bold and rocky. The scenery is romantic in the
extreme, and it has four natural curiosities, cither one of which
would give a reputation to any ordinary island. Arched Rock
faces the north, and rises from the water to the height of nearly
two hundred feet, presenting from your canoe a superb piece
of wave-formed architecture; and appearing, as you look
through it from the summit, like the gateway to a now world.
Robinson's Folly is also on the north shore, and is a picturesque
bluff, which obtained its name after the following manner.
Many years ago an Englishman, named Ro^mson, spent a sum-
mer on the island, and while *hcre, erected for his own especial
benefit, a summer-house on the summit of the bluff in question,
lie was laughed at for his pains, and was wained by 'lo cau-
tious traders and Indians not to spend too much of his time on
the cliff, and especially not to visit it when the wind was blow-
ing. He scorned the advice which was given him in ! i idncss,
and to show his independence, he frequently spent t .0 ni^.ht in
his eyrie. On one occasion, however, in the darkness of mid-
night, a thunder ijtorm passed over the island, and at sunrise
on the following morning, the "cabin of tho cliff" and its un-
fortunate inmate were buried in the deep. Hence tho namo of
Robinson's Folly. Another interesting spot on thii island is
called the Cave of Skulls. It lies on the western shore, and is
mainly distinguished for its historical associations. More than
a hundred years ago, according to one tradition, a party of
Sioux Indians, while pursued by the Ottowas, secreted them-
selves in this cave; and when they '"re discovered, which
happened soon to be the case, the Otcv'':.;^ built a fire before
the entrance to the cave, which they kept up for several days,
and when they finaMy entered tho gloomy chamber, their ene-
mies were all dead. The truth of this story is corroborated by
an incident recorded by Heury. After the massacre of Mich-
ilimaokinack, this traveler, whose life had been threatened, was
secreted in this cave by a friendly Indian. He was shown into
it in the evening, scrambled over what he thought a very sin-
gular floor, slept soundly during the night, and on awaking
in the morning, found himself reclining on a bed of human
9

;, i**!

r. r>

J^i!iril<'(

/I..- -l/'.'l-' '.

.il**""

.\ai:.-

180

MACKINAW.

bones. Another Mackinaw curiosity is called the Needle, and
is a lighthouse-looking rock, which overlooks the entire island,
and throws its shadow upon the ruins of Fort Holmes, which
are now almost level with the ground, and overgrown with
weeds.

During my stay at Mackinaw the weather continued ex-
tremely pleasant, and as I fancied myself midway between the
wilderness and the crowded city, — escaped from the dangers of
the first, and not yet entered upon the troubles of the latter, —
I threw away all care, and wandered hither and thither, the vic-
tim of an idle will. At one tim» I took my sketch-book for
the purpose of portraying some interesting point upon the is-
land, and if a party of ladies happened to discover mo in my
shady haunt, I answered their smiles with a remark, and the
interview generally terminated in my presenting each one of
them with a sketch, when they would pass on, and I would dive
deeper into the green woodland. At another time I sought the
brow of some overhanging cliff, and gazed into the translucent
waters, now letting my fancy revel among the snow-white cav-
erns far below, and now watching the cautious movements of a
solitary lake-trout, as he left the deeper waters for an exploring
expedition in the vicinity of the shore. But I never witnessed
such a sight without being affected, somewhat like the war-
horse when listening to the trumpet's bray, and in an hour
afterwards, I was usually in a boat, about a mile from shore,
trying my luck with an artificial minnow and fifty yards of
line. Now, I strolled along the beach where the Indians were
encamped, and after gathering a lot of romantic legends from
the old men, or after spending an hour talking with some of
the virgin squaws, while making their beautiful matting, I
would coax a lot of . Indian boys to accompany me, when
we enjoyed a swim, mostly for our mutual recreation, and partly
for my own instruction in the manly art, which, with the red
man is a part of his nature. Sometimes I strolled into the
fort to converse with the commanding officers, or wasted a little
powder in firing at a target with the soldierc.

Mackinaw, during the season of navigation, is one of the

UACKINAW.

131

busiest little places in the world. All the Detroit and Chicago
steamers stop here in passing to and fro, and usually tarry a
sufficient length of time to let their passengers take a hasty
ride over the island, and to replenish their larders with trout
and white-fish, which are commonly taken on board in cart-
loads. From time immemorial the Indians have been annu-
ally summoned to this island, for the purpose of receiving their
regular instalments from the government, in the shape of mer-
chandise and money, and on these occasions it is not uncom-
mon to see an assembly of three thousand fantastically dressed
savages. But in the winter this place is entirely ice-bound,
and of course, completely isolated. Then it is that the inhabi-
' tants are favored with a monthly mail, which is brought from
Saginaw by Indians or Half-breeds, on sledges drawn by dogs ;
and fishing, skating, and story-telling are about the only ftings
which tend to relieve the monotony of a winter spent upon the
island.

Like so many of the beautiful places on our western frontier,
Mackinaw is now in a transition state. Heretofore it has been
the Indian's congregating place, but its aboriginal glory is rap-
idly departing, and it will soon be the fashionable resort of
summer travelers. Its peculiar location, picturesque scenery
and the tonic character of its climate, are destined to make it
one of the most attractive watering places in the country. And
now, I am admonished that one of the Chicago steamers is in
sight, and I must prepare my luggage, previous to taking pas-
sage for the home of my childhood, in Southern Michi^n,
where I shall remain a few days, and then l^asten to my city
home on the Atlantic.

\^^^.

1,1

- \\\

■•-;■; ir\i ^fi'Ja^B^tty ainns:}

>«;

'•rs:'

^ff-Jr^IJ

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

MiCHiSAWGYEGAN is the Indian name for the State of Michi-
gan, and the meaning of it is the Lake Country. It is my
native State, and as I have recently visited it after an absence
of more than a dozen years, and it is not yet entirely re-
deenred from its original state of nature, it is meet, I ween,
that I should, while within its borders, wind up my echoes of
the wilderness. This is the country where I spent the morn-
ing of my days ; — the theatre where my future character in
the drama of life was formed and first acted out. Remote
from the glitter and noise of the great hum.an world, I used to
wander alone through its dark forests, and bathe in its pure
streams, without a care or thought to mar the peacefulness of
life. A thousand words, now full of meaning, and familiar to
my ear, were then but unmeaning sounds. Those Avere the
days when I sported on the lap of nature, feeling it a luxury
to breathe. Will they ever return ? Ask that evening breeze
wh^her it will ever again cool the fevered brow of that dying
man ? But very dear to me are my recollections of Michigan,
and I would not part with them for the treasures of the world.

The character of its scenery and people is as original as its
situation. Almost surrounded by water, it possesses all the
advantages of an island, while at the same time it is but a
small portion of a vast whole. Its streams are numerous and
clear, but generally sluggish. A portion of the extreme north
is uninhabited by human beings, owing to its barrenness.
Huge granite mountains here loom upward in eternal soli-
tude ; sometimes presenting the appearance of having been

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

133

severed asunder, and scattered around by some mighty convul-
sion of nature. On the borders of the cold and desolate lakes
thus formed, the crane and bittern rear their young. Occa-
sionally, on the brow of some jutting crag, may bo discovered
the meagre hut of some poor Indian. Perhaps a barbarous
anchorite, to whom the voice of his fellow-man is a grating
sound, and to whom existence is but a mist, a dream ; or it may
bo some disgraced warrior, who has been banished from friends
and home, to dwell in this dreary solitude, with no companions
but a half-starved dog, rugged pines, and frowning rocks. But
this section is said to contain the richest copper mine in the
known wosld.

The surface of the western half is destitute of rocks, and un-
dulating ; and it is here that the loveliest of lakes and streams
and prairies are to be found. Lake Michigan, the second in
the world, is its western boundary. The eastern portion is
entirely original in its appearance, possessing many beauties
peculiarly its own. It is so level and low that a stranger ap-
proaching it from Lake Erie is often surprised to find himself
in port, while in the act of looking out for land. This shore
is watered by the Huron, St. Clair, and Erie.

No one, who has never witnessed them, can form any idea
of the exquisite beauty of the thousand lakes which gem the
western part of Michigan. They are the brightest and purest
mirrors the sky has ever used to adorn itself. Their banks are
frequently dotted by human dwellings, the humble though com-
fortable abodes of a sturdy yeomanry. That one which takes
its name from an Indian called Baubeese, and is the outlet of
the St. Joseph river, I will match against any other of its size
in the world.

Notwithstanding what has been so often said by the artificial
inhabitants of cities, concerning the hardships and ignorance
of the backwoodsman's life, there is many a stout heart, exalted
mind, and noble soul, whose dwelling-place has been for years
on the borders of these very lakes. I know this to be true, for
I have slept beneath their roofs, and often partaken of their
johnny-cake and fat quails. No, — no. I love these men as

ifi^^M

i^Bn

^^^m

^■^

' T^BI

Pf^BWr

M^^ ^'^^91^1

kmI^bVNi

''46!m£9M

^^■K<9

1^ '•■^jjjlHi

W|BB.':lr

pnOfl

rdlB't

P^^^^n

iUMW^'i!-

1,?1

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

■ HU

:'•*■

Ui-*'

-*t^

brothers, and shall always frown upon that dandy who sets
down aught against them, — in malice or in igr.orance.

lome of these little lakes smile in perpetual solitude. One
' f t'lem is before me now. It is summer. The sun ic above
its iitre. Deep and dark and still are the shadows of the
surrounding trees and bushes. On the broad leaf of a water-
lily a green snake is curled up, with his head elevated, and his
tongue gleaming in the sunlight. He is the enemy of all fly-
ing insects and little birds, and if you watch him a little longer
you will see one of them decoyed to death by the power of his
charm. Hush ! there is a stir among the dry leaves. It is
but a lonely doe coming to quench her thirst. Is gjie not the
Queen of Beauty ? There she stands, knee-deep in water,
looking downwards, admiring the brightness of her eyes and
the gracefulness of her neck. How Leigh Hunt would enjoy
a ramble here ! His favorite flowers, — the rose, the violet, the
lily, and the sweet-briar, would each sing him a song more sweet
and delicate than their first. What bright hue is that in the
middle of the lake ? It is but the reflection of

a vapor in tho sky,

Thij>, white, and very high," '

A great proportion of Michigan is covered with white-oak
openings. Standing on a gentle hill, the eye wanders away
for miles over an undulating surface, obstructed only by the
trunks of lofty trees, — above you a green canopy, and beneath,
a carpet of velvet grass, sprinkled with flowers of every hue
apd form.

The prairies are another interesting feature of Michigan
scenery. They meet the traveller at every point, and of many
sizes, seeming often like so many lakes, being often studded
with wooded islands, and surrounded by shores of forests.
Their soil is a deep black sand. Gn^s is their natural produc-
tion, although corn, oats, and potatoes flourish upon them.
Never can I forget the first time I entered White Pigeon
Prairie. Sleeping beneath the shadows of sunset, as it was,
the effect upon me was like that which is felt on first beholding

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIQAK.

185

the ocean, — overpowering awe. All that the poet has said
about thes-s gardens of the desert, is true.

Burr Oak Plains. The only difference between these anl
the oak openings, is the character of the trees and the cven-
nes? of their surface. The soil is a mixture of sand and black
loam. They have the appearance of cultivated orcliards, or
English parks ; and, on places where the foot of the whit©
man has never trod, a carriage and four could easily pass
through. They produce both wheat and corn.

The wet prairies have the appearance of submerged land.
In them the grass is often six or seven feet high. They are
the resort of water-fowl, muskrats, and otter.

But the best and most fertile soil in Michigan is that desig-
nated by the title of timbered land. It costs more to prepare
it for the plough, but when once the soil is sown it yields a
hundred-fold. And with regard to their beauty anu magnifi-
cence, the innumerable forests of this State are not surpassed
by any in the world, whether we consider the variety or
grandeur of their productions.

A friend of mine, now residing in >(restern Michigan, and
who once spent several years in Europe, thus writes respecting
this region :

*' 0, such trees as wo have here ! Magnificent, tall, large-
leafed, umbrageous. Vallombrosa, the far-famed Vallombrosa
of Tuscany, is nothing to the thousand Vallombrosas here ! A
fig for your Italian scenery ! This is the country where nature
reigns in her virgin beauty ; where trees grow, where corn
grows ; where men grow better than they do any where else
in the world. This is tho land to study nature in all her luxu-
riant charms, under glorious green branches, among singing
birds and laughing strcms ; this is the land to hear the cooing
of. the turtle-dove, in far, deep, cool, sylvan bowers ; to feel
your soul expand under the mighty influences of nature in her
primitive beauty and strength."

Tho principal inland rivers of Michigan are, the Grand River,
the Kalamazoo, the St. Joseph, the Saginaw, and the Raisin.
The first three empty into Lake Michigan, and are about

'!-;iSB

%A>

it I ^' ' i

136

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIOAN.

lei ''$ d

I ili ' "fiiSitiC?'''

I 'ft ,*>"*"' ".rr^

lii\^

seventy miles apart. Their averajie length ih near two hun-
drel and fifty miles, and they arc about thirty or forty rods in
width. At present, they are navigfilii' half tlicir (et:';.;th for
amali Bteamboats and batfeaux. Their b>'d is of liv.i,stone,
covered with pebbles. I was a paiisengev on board th-: . ^atilda
Barney, on her firpj., trip, — tl:e first <feamer that ever ascended
the St. Jiiieph, wiiicb I confuJor a most perfectly boauiiful
stream . I remember well the many flocks of wild tiirkr'ys and
herds of deer, that the "irun hovrie" frightexicd in his Tyinding
career. TLo Indian canci is now giving Avay to the more
costly but loss beautiful row-bo;' t, and tliose a;. -rs avo becoming
deeper am) deeper e .'ery d&y. Instead of the howl of the wolf,
the i-ovigd of husbandmen now echo through their vales, where
may bo found many comfortable dwellings.

The Saginaw runs towards the north and empties into Lake
Huron, — that same Huron which has been celebrated in song
by the young poet, Louis L. Nclile. This river is navigable for
sixty miles. The river Raisin h a winding stream, emptying
into Lake Erie, called so from the (luantity of grapes that cluster
on its banks. Its Indian name is Nummu-sepee, signifying
River of Sturgeons. Sweet river ! whose murmurs have so often
been my lullaby, mayest thou continue in thy beauty forever.

Notwithstanding the comparative newness of Michigan, its
general aspect is ancient. The ruin of many an old fort may
be discovered on its borders, reminding the beholder of wrong
and outrage, blood and strife. This was once the home of
noble but oppressed nations. Here lived and loved the Algon-
quin and Shawnese Indians ; the names of whose warrior
chiefs, — POntiac the proud, and Tecumseh the brave, — will
long be treasured in history. I have stood upon their graves,
which are marked only by a blighted tree and an unhewn stone,
and have mused thoughtfully as I remembered their deeds. But
they are gone, like the lightning of a summer day !

It is a traditionary land. For we are told that the Indian
hunters of old saw fairies and genii floating over its lakes and
streams, dancing through its lonely forests. In these did they
believe, and to please them was their religion.

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIQAN.

187

The historian* of this State thus writes, in alluding to the
olden times : " The streams rolled their liquid silver to the
lake, broken only by the fish that flashed in their current, or
the swan that floated upon their surface. Vegetation flourished
alone. Roses bloomed and died, only to be trampled by the
deer or savage ; ar ^ strawberries studded the ground like
rubies, where the green and sunny hillsides reposed amid the
silence, like sleeping infants, in the lap "of the forest. The
rattlesnake glided undisturbed through its prairies ; and the
fog which hung in clouds over its stagnant marshes spread no
pestilence. The panther, the fox, the deer, the wolf, and bedr,
roamed fearless through the more remote parts of the domain,
for there were none to dispute with them their inheritance.
But clouds thickened. In the darkness of midnight, and silence
of the wilderness, the tomahawk and scalping-knife were forged
fc their work of death. Speeches Avcre made by the savages
u;.der the voiceless stars, which we o heai-d by none save God
and their allies ; and the war-song echoed from the banks of
lakes where had never been heard the footsteps of civilized
man."

Then followed the horrors of war ; then and there were
enacted the triumphs of revenge. But those sounds have died
away; traced only on the page of history, those deeds. The
voice of rural labor, the clink of the hammer, and the sound of
Sabbath-bells now echo in those forests and vales. The plough
is making deep furrows in its soil, and the sound of the anvil
is in every part. A well-endowed University^ and seminaries
of learning are there. Railroads and canals, like veins of
health, are gliding to its noble heart. The red man, in his
original grandeur and state of nature, has passed away from
its most fertile borders ; and his bitterest enemy, the pale face,
is master of his possessions.

The French were the first who settled in_ Michigan, and at
as early a date as 1G20, and for many years, they and the
Indians, were the solo inhabitants. Here it was that the far
famed Jesuit missionaries first pitched their tents in (Avhat is

* James H. Lanmau, Esq., uncle to the Author.

'Tm

^^H

s*^

r'^jN,;!)*

T*aS

;•;. • u

■•-;;■?;. J«?

fii.'^'f''^

in,/' ■ -lr*t

I , *V[: Si

r's

'^i:

188

RECOLLECTIOKS OF MICHIGAN.

now) the United States. Now, people out of every civilized
nation dwell within its borders. Detroit, on the superb river
of that name, and Frenchtown, on the river Raisin, were both
founded by the French. The former of these is a city, a
flourishing city, of fifteen thousand inhabitants, where are to
be found all the elegances and luxury of the most polite society.
Its principal street would be an ornament in any city ; its ele-
vation is some fifty feet above the wator, and from its docks,
the eye wanders over a scene not unlike that visible from the
North River side of the Empire city. Like most cities, it ap-
pears to the beat advantage in winter. Then it is that you
may often witness the beautiful Detroit River frozen like mar-
ble, and on its surface hundreds of sleighs and skaters gliding
in every direction ; while a chor»is of bells comes faintly and
sweetly to your ear. Monroe, is the modern name for French-
town. It is situated about two miles from Lake Erie, and is
also a flourishing town, containing some four thousand inhabit-
ants, a goodly portion of whom are the descendants of the early
settlers. Detroit and Monroe, are two of the best wheat
markets in the western country. Ann-Arbor on the Huron is
the New Haven of Michigan, and possesses many attractions
in the way of intelligent people, picturesque scenery, and hand-
some buildings. Nilcs, on the St. Joseph, is a most diflicult
place to pass through, for the trAve)!or always feels an irresiatible
impulse to remain there for ever, — it is so charmingly situated,
on such a charming stream, and inhabited by such charming peo-
ple. But I might sing this song under the head of Kalamazoo,
Ypsilanti, Tecumseh, Adrian, Fontiac, Grand Rapids, Jackson,
Battle Creek,, and twenty other thriving villages, which are all
surrounded by a fine agricultural country. J cannot now dwell
upon such themes. Numma-sepee is ringing in my ear, and
my thoughts are with my body, on the river, and in the village,
where I was born. Here, I am, after an absence of many
years, a visitor, and to half the people a stranger, on the very
soil where I spent my wild and happy boyhood. I will not
touch upon the improvements that meet me at every turn, nor
upon the troops of friends that surround me ; my heart is with

RBCOLLEOTIONS OF MICUIOAM.

189

■1 ■ '•' i)H^'<

the village of other days, not with thd business city of the pre-
sent time ; and as to my friends, I thank them for their kind-
ness, but they are not of my kindred ; they arc changed, and I
oan only look upon them as strangers, Reader, as you love to
remember the sunny days of your own life, I invite you to listen
to niy words, as I attempt to summon from the past an array
of my most dearly cherished recollections.

Judging from the many accounts I have heard, the spot now
occupied by Monroe must have been, before the last Avar, one
of the most delightful nooks in the wide world. Its original
name, as before stated, was Frenchtown, and its only inhabit-
ants were French, who had emigrated thither from Franco by
the way of Canada. The families did not number more than
about fifty, and the names of the most conspicuous were
Navarre, Duval, Beaubien, Bourdeaux, Couture, Nadeau, Ban-
nac, Cicot, Campau, Jobien, Godfrey, Lassellc, Corsenau, La-
badee, Durocher, • Robert, Lacroix, Dausette, Lorangor, San-
comb, and Fourniet. They inhabited what might be called an
oasis in the wilderness. Their farms all Iny directly upon either
side of the river, and though principally devoted to agricultural*
pursuits, they were content with but a few acres of cleared land,
and beyond these, on either hand, stood the mighty forests in
their original solitude and luxuriance. Along their doors glided
the ever-murmuring Raisin, wt ose fountain-head was theo among
the things unknown, and its waters mingled with those of Eric,
without being disturbed by the I^eel of any steamboat or white-
winged vessel. Comfort and beauty characterized their dwell-
ings, and around them grew in great abundance domestic trees,
that yielded the most delicious fruits. In their midst stood a
little chapel, overgrown with iyy and surmounted by a cross,
where the Jesuit missionaries or Catholic priests performed
their religious duties. The soft-toned bell that summoned them
to worship, was not without its echoes, but they dwelt far away
upon the sleeping lake or in the bosom of the surrounding wil-
derness. Here the tumult of the great human world was never
heard, and money and fame were not the chief desire of the
secluded husbandman, for he was at ease in his possessions.

''I'^BI

SMM

i^m

140

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIOAN.

WSttJ;

Indians, the smoke of whoso wigwnms ascended to heaven on
every side, were the only people with whom the early settlers
had intercourse ; from them they obtained valuahlo furs, by
barter, which they sent to Montreal, receiving in exchange the
necessaries and many of the luxuries of life. They maintained
the habits which were brought from the provinces whence they
emigrated. The gentleman preserved the garb of the age of
Louis XIV., while the peasant wore a long surtout, sash, red
cap, and deer-skin moccasins. Their knowledge of agriculture
was very limited, and the policy of the fur trade was calculated
to keep down the spirit of improvement in that respect. Of
corn and wheat they were anxious only to raise enough to last
them during the year. A surplus of anything but furs they
did not desire, and never possessed. Their grain was ground
in windmills, whose picturesque features added to the poetry of
the scenery. Their amusements were confined to the sound of
the violin, at their unaffected assemblies.

The forest afforded them an abundance of game, which con-
stantly led them to the hunt, and their beautiful stream
abounded in fish, which they captured with the net, the hook,
and the spear. A dreamy summer atmosphere seems to rest
upon this region, when viewed in the light of the olden times.
There was poetry in everything which met the eye : in the
priest, Mitli cowl and satin vestments, kneeling before a wooden
cross, on Ms way to the place of prayer; in the peasant, as he
performed his rural labors, attended by his wife and playful
children ; in the rude Indians, with fantastic costumes, who
were wont to play their uncouth games on the green-sward, or
perform their dexterous feats in the bark canoe ; in the sky,
which Smiled perpetually upon the virgin wilderness ; and in
that wilderness, whose peculiar features verily blossomed as the
unplucked rose. And there was poetry in all that fell upon
the ear : in the lowing of the cattle and the tinkling of their
bells ; in the gentle flowing waters, and the sound of the sum-
mer wind, as it sported with the forest trees, and wandered
away, laden with the perfume of nameless flowers ; in the sing-
ing of unnumbered birds, which ascended to the skies in a per-

'..' t^'^s

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

141

petual anthem ; and in th^ loud clear laugh of French nnd
Indian children, as they mingled together in their simple games.
But those patriarchal days are for ever departed ! In another
part of the country Tecuraseh and Pontiac were beginning to
figure in successive battles against the United Stj^ites, and their
hostile spirit soon manifested itself upon our frontier. The
Indians upon this river became the enemies of the settlers,
which turned out to be the prelude to a storm of war that scat-
tered death and desolation along its path. But many years
have fled since then, and the blessings of peace and prosperity
are resting upon our country.

The poor Indians have almost withered from the land, and
those French inhabitants, like all things earthly, are on their
way to the land of forgctfulncss. Another race of men suc-
ceeded here, and can be numbered by thousands ; and where
once extended the dominion of the wilderness, a business city
now looks down upon the river, which river has become an
adopted servant of commerce.

I cannot refrain from here quoting the following passage
from Charlevoix, descriptive of the scenery as it existed when
he passed through this region in seventeen hundred and twenty-
one:

" The first of June, being the day of Pentecost, after having
sailed up a beautiful river (the Raisin) for the space of an hour,
which has its rise, as they say, at a great distance, and runs
betwixt two fine meadows, wo passed over a carrying place of
about sixty paces in breadth, in order to avoid turnijig round a
point which is called Long Pointe. It is a very ?andy spot of
ground, and naturally bears a great quantity of vines. The
•following days I saw nothing remarkable, but coasted along a
charming country^ hid at times by disagreeable prospects,
which, however, are of no great extent. Wherever I went
ashore, I was enchanted by the beauty and variety of a land-
scape, terminated by the noblest forests in the whole world.
Add to this, that every part of it swarms with waterfowl. I
cannot say whether the woods afibrd game in equal profusion.
Were we all to sail, as I there did, with a serene sky, in a most

li«-

'W^-

142

BBCOLLEOTIONS OF MICDIOAN.

i^m^i

••■^^

|M«I«

I'll ■ .• '-^^j^'ii ■..:«■

chorming climate, and in vrntcr as clear 08 that of the purest
fountain ; were we sure of finding everywhere as secure and
agreeable places to puss the night in ; where wo might enjoy
the pleasures of hunting at a small expense, breathe at our
case of the purest air, and enjoy the prospect of the finest of
countries; we might be tempted to travel to the end of our
days. How many oaks represented to me that of Mararo!
How many fountains put me in mind of that of Jacob ! Each
day a new situation, chosen at pleasure, a neat and commo-
dious house built and furnished with all necessaries in less than
a quarter of an hour, and floored with a pavement of flowers,
continually springing up on a carpet of the most beautiful
green ; — on all sides simple and natural beauties, unadulterated
and inimitable by art."

In this region I spent my wild and wayward boyhood. In
the prime of summer I have watched for pigeons on the margin
of the forest springs, or waded the streams after the sweet
crawfish ; in the strangely beautiful autumn and Indian sum-
mer I have captured the squirrel and partridge ; and in the
winter the turkey and the deer. Reader ! have you ever, while
roaming in tho woods bordering a prairie, startled from his
heathery couch a noble buck, and seen him dart from you,
" swift as an arrow from a shivering bow !" Was it not a sight
worthy of a purer world than ours ? Did you not hail him
" king of the beautiful and fleet ?"

There' is one hunting incident which I met with when about
fourteen years of age, that I can never forget. I had entered
upon a cow-path, and as it led through so many and such beau-
tiful places, I forgot myself and wandered on until tho shadows
of evening warned me of my situation. Great oaks and hicko-'
ries, and walnut trees were with me wherev.cr I went. They
cast a spell upon me like that which is wrought by the old of
other days. The black night came at last, and there I was,
alone, and lost in that silent wilderness. Onward still did I
continue, and even in my great fear was at times startled by
the flapping of an owlet's wing or the howl of a wolf. The
stars were above, shining in their brightness, but invisible to

RBCOLLBOTIOMS OF llICIilOAN.

148

mo, 80 closely woven \fero the tops of the trees. Faintly glim-
mering in the distiince, I saw a firelight, and on coming near,
found a party of Indians encamped. My breast, panted with
exccHsive fear, and yet I could not speak— could hardly breathe,
und still my mind was free and active. I stood and listened
to the faint sound of a distant waterfall. Would that I had
power to express the emotions that came like a flood pouring
into my soul. Covered by a blanket, and pillowed by a mo-
cuck of sugar, each Indian was asleep upon his rush-mat. Pa-
rents, children, and friends, promiscuously disposed, though all
of them with their feet turned towards the expiring embers.
The dogs, too, looking ferocious and cunning as wolves, were
all sound asleep. I stole softly into the midst of the wild com-
pany, and covering myself with an odd blanket, strange to say,
I slumbered. When morning was come, and the Indians dis-
covered a pale-faced boy among them, their astonishment can
be more easily conceived than described. I at length informed
them by signs that I was lost, and that my home was in the
village of Monroe. I partook with them of a hearty br'' .fast,
composed of venison, hominy, and water, and ere the sun had
mounted high, was on my way homeward, with an Indian for
my guide. As we parted on the outskirts of the village, I
offered to pay him for his trouble, but he declined receiving
anything. I turned around, and the thick forest shielded him
from my sight. Of course my friends were much concerned at
my absence, and the majority of them insisted upon my having
been drowned. For one whole week after this adventure, I was
compelled to stay at home ; but after that, it was forgotten,
and I was in the forests again.

But my heart-song of other days is just beginning, and I
cannot yet drop my pen. My father's residence was upon one
of the old French farms, that were once so famous for their
Arcadian beauty. The hand of improvement has despoiled
them of their original glory, and the strange, gaudy scenes that
I now behold, only tend to oppress my spirit with gloom. The
city dwellings around me I cannot see, for my mind is upon
the village of my birth. The farm alluded to above, was about

}

'Mrirn,

''^ffl^

jHk'H

i/^^IJH

li^M^aH

2f^"^^H|^^^^H

>i||! :'

I<:';l! i

fc,|i*

144

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

half a mile in 'width, and extended back to the distance of
nearly two miles. Leaving the river and going back, you first
pass through ^n orchard containing four or five hundred trees.
Here a row of splendid pear-trees, and there a regiment of old
black apple-trees, staggering under their weight of fruit. En-
tering a little enclosure behind a barn, you might see fifty small
light-green trees, with an innumerable number of rosy-cheeked
peaches under their leaves. And now we pass the great cider-
press, where I was Avont to imbibe the rich American wine
through an oaten str-'w. A little further on, we come to a
green pasture, where there are cows, oxen, sheep and horses
grazing ; on »vard still, and a wheat-field, yellow as gold, r.ow-
ing before the breeze. Then our path lies across a pleasant
meadow, watered by a sparkling stream ; and after a brief Avalk
we find ourselves in the foresi;, dark and gloomy. And such
toas the spot whore I spent the morning of my days. Is it
straniii;, , then, that a deep and holy love for nature should be
rooted in my heart?

That description reminds me of another hunting expedition,
of which I would merely give an outline. It is early morning,
and the latter part of spring. Breakfast, is ended. My cap
and buckskin shirt are on, the latter gathered round my waist
by a scarlet worsted belt. My powder-horn and shot-pouch
are filled with the nicest kind of ammunition, and in my hand
is my valued little gun, (bought expressly for myself,) polished
bright as a sunbeam. I have kissed the baby, and am now on
my winding y ay. At the mouth of the river, I borrow a canoe
of some old Frenchman who resides there. If I w;ere,to offer
him pay he would not accept it ; for the interesting reason that
he "know: my father." All the day long have I been hunt-
ing, and reveling in a dream-land of my own. The sun is in
the west, and I am hungry. I have paddled around many a
green and lovely island, and explored many a bayou and marsh,
and outlets of creeks ; frightening from her lonely nest many a
wild-duck and her brood. My shot-pouch is now empty, al-
though the bottom of my canoe u covered with game. There
are five canvas-backs, three teals, three plovers, two snipes,

■S,

l'<

.(-'^' , ;*

;t:

':^<

%,f:

,*»i

'■^.

f -fl:-

■m

^•*

'%.

KV(^

^st*. '^.'

•^,

1/ '\

a'-JCK 8H00rtNC «M VirStmCAN.

^i'i;.^

■■\M

141

■;>' .i«,*S«;aaAl*.

Mjaclc to thfc kii«i..-. ■
ami ^'.;".'-iC I'.-.fk. yctj' .

■ ftr-t^»M>s, till! ^'i«^•^• 'i ■ it

_■■■ > \N' V ■' ' t'O ;jahH«e *l:if ri«') a\ uv«;iii*fi H
i .' ^'i- «u (>at»>i .•(,,.,-, A liu!- fui-t*n-'r on, ."p '*i>i!u, •
. t ..-«.', wborc there rre im •v-' ox^n. sLiof'p and i ►•
'•■'\■c^<■^ . OTiViiJ-'i 5^1''i, J..0 ^- ^i'! lit-tiCi'l. ycilovv "i- ;;tj)':, "
it)^ '.»>i<'r(.' ih- br*^"/''. " '^ ■■■;' '-'^i !■' a':i^-s8 a pi;'' •

^>t'j;\«, «.,fiT4 Ijv ,i .; ;-„• ' Piiiv. .-(iVrr a. brief V .

^v h '1 t^'.a '* ' i" ■ iVsit . ! !im' gloA^Oty. Ami ^

. .. ■ •• ii <ft.4V:M ^", s Aari't' 5v..«'

■--. :\ ■ A\-.'i»ix ■' - ?•■ i- -U;^

si - •»^- i- fch"!* i' ' ' ^va

,;,, ,, ■ . :. ^\^■ ,; •• - • ' t' ' f .iH!U5"niliw».: "mI iji w;
iM t'ly vahtod IHtlo ;^uij. .'- i^'t-:' ■ -xjuf^M;' f.«r n v.i.^lf.} i- -
tiriglit as a 'nnbcji: . ' uavvi kissed tfw} i .:by, iii.* -u; !i/>'-
I' ■ u>din«t t< iiy. At rhc riinyth of the rheti", i 'oflnow a c •

■ ,,• I'M Kitnchnjun fth'- '•■• W • v,.a>e, ;

f;;M.,:ytj ^oijld not ac .'|it i. . = - ,»4mgren«0J.

(i<- -> knot* ■ ;» ^f :'^^thw." Ml v-'- ^ ': "«J! f^'V'^** i -" -v "•
feiT, and i:<>v('Un;t ni u 4wanv! snf' ui my own. 'V!ie fiui:

ki& bve^L and J am Imngry. I httvc padolc'l iii'ouud ini*-
■I '.^ vi iy island, imd explored many :i l>a} ou nnd nii; :•

iP t . ■ ■ >ts nf ciooks ; fri^4.tontt-.g from lu*.r kmtely neat ma;.;

■„ : :,1 her hr'miX. v.- A\c^ -p- ^w^-. ■* 7K>w «mpiy ;<;•

t!;-,.- . . {torn of tay CfOJO'" JH covevfti wtti: gauM'. Thfv.

are ^ive ^'^rtWAS'baxjks, three te^ilH, tbrco |>lovere. e%vo snipr^

it ■"

-f'f

^ 1]
•.VI

.,*1fc ' ,Hi

DUCK SHOOTING tN MICHIGAN.

one wo
drawn i
bert a (
and I
passing
exclaim
and sev
ing poll
ing me
the spot
That
ducks hi
ther. A
very ma
from me
once mo
Fishii
When tl
from th(
Raisin, .
low a ce
hand an
seven fe
/we, I n(
my spea
ation to
It must
straddle
ning. ]
he woul
back !"
my boyl:
But I a
many lo
I mused
perch, a
from the
1

KECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

145

one wood-duck, and other kinds of waterfo^'l. The canoe is
drawn up on shore, and with my thanks I have given old Ro-
bert a couple of ducks. My game is now slung upon my back,
and I am homeward bound, proud as a young king. While
passing through the village, (for I have to do so,) I hear a voice
exclaiming, Lally ! Lally ! I approach, and find my father
and several other gentlemen seated at the post-ofl5ce door talk-
ing politics. Each one in turn gives me a word of praise, call-
ing me " quite a hunter." I pay them for their kindness on
the spot, by the donation of a canvas-baek, and pass on.

That evening my supper is a rare enjoyment, for some of the
ducks have been cooked under the especial charge of my mo-
ther. A little longer, and I am in the land of dreams. Many,
very many such days have I enjoyed, but now they are far
from me. Oh ! that I were an innocent, laughing, happy boy
once more ! Come back ! Come back ! joys of my youth !

Fishing is another a*t in which I was considered an adept.
When the first warm day lured the sturgeon -and muskalounge
from their deep home in the bosom of the lake, to ascend the
Raisin, I was always among the first on the large platform be-
low a certain milldam, (now all washed away,) with spear in
hand and heart to conquer. Many a noble sturgeon, six and
seven feet long, have I seen extended on the shore. As for
/we, I never aimed only at the smaller ones. Once, howevei*,
my spear entered the back of a " whapper," and my determin-
ation to keep hold was nearly the cause of my being drowned.
It must have been a thrilling, yet ridiculous sight, to see me a-
straddle of the fellow, and passing down the river like light-
ning. I think if Mr. William Shakspeare had been present,
he would have exclaimed, — " Lo, a mcr-man on a sturgeon's
back !" If I could enjoy such sport now with the feelings of
my boyhood, I would willingly risk such a ducking every day.
But I am now a struggler amid the waves of life. 0, how
many long and never-to-be-forgotten Saturday afternoons, have
I mused away on the margin of my native stream. How many
perch, and bass, sun-fish, and pike, and pickerel, have I brought
from their pure element to place upon my father's table ! But
10

1^/^

if%N

i^^'^^

146

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

those days are forever departed, all and forever — gone into
their graves, bearing vrith them all my dreams, all my hopes
and fond anticipations. Desolate indeed does it make my
heart, to look upon the changes that have taken place in the
home of my boyhood. Kind words do indeed fall upon my
ear, but I feel myself to be a stranger or as one forgotten. 0,
I am

" A homeless wanderer through my early home ;
Gone childhood'i< joj s, aud not a joy to come 1"

Dana.

But let mc, while I may, recall a few more bright visions
from the past.

Aye, even now into the chambers of my soul are entering
ao array of Avinter pictures, associated with the times of the
days of old.

True as memory itself, by everything that meets the eye of
my fancy, I perceive that winter has «8serted his empire over
my native village. Once more am I a happy boy, and plan-
ning a thousand excursions to enjoy the merry season. The
years, between the present and that happy time, are vanished
into forgetfulness, and it seemcth to mc that I am even now
panting with the excitement of a recent battle in the snow.

There has been a heavy fall of the white element, and while
walking along one of tlio streets oi the village, a snow-ball hits
me on the back, whereupon I jump into an attitude of defiance.
Partly hidden by a neighboring fence, I discover a group of
roguish boys, whom I immediately favor with an answer to
th^,;i' salute. Eight is the number of ray temporary enemies,
and as they Ip'^p the fence aud come into full view, my heart
begins to quail, and I feel a scampering sensation in my heels.
Just in the "nick of time," however, half a dozen of my friends
who happen along, come to ray relief, when a couple of shouts
ascend to heaven, and the battle commences. Round, harJ
swiftly thrown, and well-aimed, are the balls that fly. Already,
from many a window, fair aud smiling spectators are looking
upon us, and each on» of us fancies himself to be another Ivan-
hoe. The combat deepens. One fellow receives a ball directly

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

;47

in the ear, and away he reels, "with a short, uneasy motion,"
and another has received one in his belly, probably making still
flatte' the pancake? that are there. And then, as a stream Oi"
blood issues from the smeller of one, and the eyes of another
are made to see stars, a maddening frenzy siczcs upon the
whole gang — the parties clinch, — and the "rubbing" scene is
in its prime, with its struggles and sounds of suffering. One
poor fellow is pitched into a snow-drift, heels over head, while
his enemy almost smothers him with hands-full of soft snow,
causing his writhing countenance to glisten with a crimson hue ;
another, who. has been yelling at a tremendous rate over a tem-
porary triumph, is suddenly attacked by a couple of our pa'-ty.
who pelt him furiously, until he cries out most lustily — " I beg,
I bog," Avhen he is permitted to retire with his laurels. One
chap receives a stinger of a blow between his peepers, accom-
panied by an oath, whereupon we know that there is too much
passion in the fray, and while the victims enter upon a regular
fisticuff, we find it necessary to run to their rescue and separate
them. Thasthe-general battle ceases. After coming together,
declaring ourselves good friends, an 1 talking over the struggle,
we collect our scattered caps, mittens, and tippets, and quietly
retire to our respective homes.

Time flies on, — wo have had a protracted rain, the streets
liavo been muddy, the people dull, — but now fair weather com-
oth out of the north, and the beautiful river Raisin is again
sheeted in its icy mail. For a week past g-eat preparations
liavc been made by some two dozen boys for a skating excur-
sion to a certain light-house on Lake Eric, situated ab©ut ten
miles from Monroe. We have seen that our skates are in first-
rate order, and Tom Brown (an ancient negro who was the
chief advisor and friend of every Monroe boy) has promised
to awaken us all, and usher in the eventful morning by a
blast from his old tin horn ; so that when bed-time comes, we
liave nothing to do but say our prayers and enjoy a refreshing
sleep. Strange, that I should remember these trifling events
so distinctly ! But there they are, deeply and forever engraven
on the tablet of my memory, together with thousands of others

.•'I-

l^'^p

l«lH8 4u' '.'•'Wi!'

' :li^ilH^

immr

fc**^

'|,^^P

'I^^S|^

^w^^l

^'^^El

148

REOOLLBCTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

► «-, 1'"-^ ^

■ •■''"rci-

of a kindred character. Their exalted mission is to cheer my
heart amid the perplexities of the world.

It is the break of day, and bitter cold. The appointed sig-
nal hath been given ; — the various dreams of many a happy
youth are departed ; each one hath partaken of a hearty break-
fast, and the whole party are now assembled upon the ice
" below the bridge." Then follows the bustle of preparation.
While some are tardy in buckling on their skates, others slap
their hands together to keep them warm, while some of the
smartest and most impatient rogues are cutting their names, or
certain fantastic figures, as a prelude to what we may expect
from them in tlie way of fine skating. Presently we are drawn
up in a line to listen to the parting words of " Snowball Tom."
At the conclusion of his speech, a long and loud blast issues
from the old tin horn, which we answer by a laugh and a louder
shout, and like a band of unbroken colts, we spring to the race
upon the icy plain. Away, away, away. Long and regular
are the sweeps wo take, and how dolefully does the poor river
groan as the ice cracks from shore to shore, as w€»flee over its
surface " like a rushing mighty wind !" Keen, and piercingly
cold is the morning breeze, but what matter ? Is not the blood
of health and happy boyhood coursing through our veins ?
Now we glide along the shore, frightening a lot of cattle driven
to the river by a boy, or the horses of some farmer who is giv-
ing them their morning drink ; now we pass the picturesque
abodes of the Canadian peasantry, partly hidden by venerable
trees, though now stripped of their leafy honors ; now we give
chase to a surprised dog returning from the midnight assassi-
nation of some helpless sheep ; n-jw we pass the last vestige of
humanity upon the river, which is the log cabin of an old
French fisherman and hunter ; and now we pass a group of
little islands with a thick coating of sncw upon their bosoms,
and their ten thousand beautiful bushes and trees whispering
to the air of the surrounding silence. Already have we more
than measured the distance of two leagues outside of Pleasant
Bay, and our course is now on the broad bosom of Lake Erie,
with an unbroken field of solid ice before us as far as the eye

can rea(

,!?» IH- ,-^\

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHiOAN.

149

can reach. Tho frozen pavement along which our skates are
ringing ia black aa the element beneath, and so transparent,
that where the water is not more than ten or twenty foot in
depth, we can distinctly sec sunken logs, clusters of slimy rocks
and herds of various kinda of fish, balancing themselves in sleep
or (lart'ng about their domain in sport. But these delicious
pictures are for some other time, — we are speeding with the
breeae and cannot tarry. Away, — away, — away !

But what means that sudden wheel of our leader, as with his
voice and upraised hands he summons us to halt ? Half a mile
on our lee, and about the same distance from the shore he has
just discovered an assembly of men, with their horses and
sleighs at a stand, as if preparing for a race. Without a mo-
ment's hesitation wo decMe to bo " on hand," and in a few
minutes are cutting up our capers in the midst of a hundred
Canadians who are about to enjoy what we predicted. Beauti-
ful and fantastic oarriolles are here, drawn by sleek and saucy-
looking Canadian pacers, and occupied by hard-fisted men
enveloped in their bufiiilo-robes, whom we recognize as friends.
Here we notice one Beaubien with his pony of glossy black,
which has never yet been beatcii, and are told that tho race is
to be between him and an entire stranger who has accepted a
recently made challenge. To the stranger we turn, and find
his horse to be a beautiful bay, and of a more delicate build
than tho Canadian champion. The race is to be two miles in
length and the amount of the bet five hundred dollars. All
things being ready, tho competitors move slowly to the starting
place with their witnesses, while the concourse of people await
in breathless anxiety the result of the race. Hark ! hear you
not the clattering of hoofs, resounding far over the plain, as if
in search of an echo ? Aye, and with wondrous speed they
are coming ! How exciting is the scene ! In three minutes
more tho contest will be ended. See ! — Beaubien is ahead, and
the victory undoubtedly his ! But now the stranger tosses up
his cap, and as it falls, the flying pacer understands the signal
— lie increases his already almost matchless speed, he passes
tho Frenchman with a look of triumph lii his eye, — one minute

lii

#"^l^

^iHfi.Ml-1'

it'^Ci'i

it 'i??'

.,.„, .,^

j-W

160

RECOLLECTIONS CI- MICHIGAN.

more, — and the unknown is triumphant. Most unexpected is
the result. The pcopio are bewildered and perplexed, but
when Beaubien delivers up the lost money, not a word escapes
him, and ho seems to bo broken-hearted. His darling steed
has been eclipsed, the swiftest pacer in all the country does not
belong to him, and he is miserable. The sport ended, and not
caring for the jabbering of a band of excited Ficnchmen, wo
come together again, and continue on our course.

Another hour do wo while away along the lake shore, now
pausing to get a little breath, and now gazing with curious eyes
into the gloomy forest (which comes to the very water's edge)
as we glide along. At twelve o'clock we have reached the de-
sired haven, our feet arc gladly released, and we are the wel-
come guests of mine host of the light-house. By some the
peculiar features of the lonely place are examined, wnile others,
who have an eye for the grand in nature, ascend to the top of
the light-houso for a view of the frozen lake — reposing in un-
broken solitude. The curiosity of all being satisfied, we as-
semble in the comfortable parlor of our entertainer, and await
the dinner-hour. A jolly time then follows ; — many u joke is
cracked, and many a twice-told legend of the wilderness re-
lated; a sumptuous dinner is enjoyed ; the evening hours ap-
proaching, we begin to think of home, and by the time" the
heaven^ are flooded with the light of the moon and stars, we
have taken our departure, and are upon our skates once more.
Without meeting with an accident, elated by many a gay song
on our way, and with our thoughts raodtly bent upon the " spa-
cious firmament on high," we glide over the frozen wave, and
at the usual hour are in our warm beds, anticipating a dream
of those things, for which our several hearts are panting.

Hardly a week has elapsed before we have another heavy
fall of snow, and the principal topic of conversation among the
young people of the village is a sleigh-ride. The boys, about
this time, are making themselves wonderfully useful in their
fathers' stables, taking good care of the horses, examining the
sleighs, collecting the buffalo-robes and polishing the bells ;
while the girls are busily engaged upon their hoods, cloaks,

RE0OLLB0TION8 OF MIOOIQAN.

161

itioffs, and moccasins, and wondering by whom they will be in-
vited. The long-wishod-for day has arrived. Farewcll'a Tavern,
ten miles up the River Riiisin, is our place of destination. The
cheerful sun is only about an hour Mgh, when there is heard a
merry jingling of bells in the villiiTO ptreets. Our cavalcade

sleighs, and one sinfrlc-
>mebody and the Chief

if this rhapsody,
pirits, and it is as much

numbers some half dozen w
seated carriolle occupied I
Marshal of the expedition, -
My black trotter was nevi
as I can do to hold him in, ati with his neck beautifully arched
he bears upon the bit. lie seems to know that his youthful
master has but one dearer friend upon earth, who is the "bonnie
lassie" at his side. Many and tender are the words then spoken,
and the wide world before our youthful fancies is the home only
of perpetual pleasures. Far, very far from our minds are all
the stern realities of life. We hear the flail of the industrious
farmer in his barn, but do not dream of the great truth that
mankind are born to labor and grow old with trouble. We look
upon a poverty-stricken and forsaken Indian, witli his family
trudging across the snowy landscape, and gratefully reflect
upon the comforts of our own homes, and sigh for the miseries
of the poor. Youth makes us forgetful of the real future, and
the dawning of love opens our hearts to every tender influence,
and we resolve, hereafter, to be very kind to the unfortunate.
The shades of evening arc descending upon the earth, and with
thoughtfulness we gaze upon the quiet pictures of the road, the
season, and the hour. We pass a wooden cross with its cover-
ing of snow, which was planted by Jesuit Missionaries a cen-
tury ago, and think of Him whom we have been rightly taught
to worship and adore. Farmers are foddering their cattle, boys
are carrying in huge armsful of dry hickory for a roaring fire,
and cheerful lights are gleaming from the windows of the farm-
houses as we pass along. Finally the comfortable dwelling
where we would be meets our gaze, seeming to smile upon us,
with its various lighted windows, and- clouds of smoke ascend-
ing heavenward, when, with a few flourishes of whips, and a
terrible din of bells, the sleighing party comes to a halt before
the tavern of friend Farewell.

■* . Ml-i^

i -a

^Vi

':L&Si

•f'-'^^

"•~>4S

«^

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)

I I.I
1.25

m 125

12.0

U 11.6

PhotDgraphic

Sciences

Corporation

^ «*%

F.^

e ^\^.

23 WIST MAIN STRUT

WnSTH.N.Y. USIO

(716)I73-4S03

\4^

152

BECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

The upper rooms of the dwelling are all ready for our recep-
tion, and while the girls are ushered into them, the boys are
■ attending to the comforts of their faithful horses. In due time,
after we have arranged the preliminaries for a supper, we join
the girls again, and in solid body make our appearance in the
spacious ball-room. A musician is already there, in the person
of an ancient negro, who tells ^^ that his fiddle is in prime
order. But dancing is an idea of which we had not dreamed,
for we are utterly ignorant of the polite accomplishment. But
music we are resolved to have, and doubt not but it will greatly
add to our enjoyment of the various games which we purpose
to play. Now have the happy voices of the party risen to a
noisy height, as we take hold of hands and commence' the game
of Drop the Handkerchief, while many a race around the slip-
pery floor is run, and many a sweet kiss is given and returned.
Then succeeds the play of Button, wherein the forfeits are re-
deemed by making " wJeelbarrows," *' measuring tape and
cutting it off," and by " bowing to the wittiest, kneeling to the
prettiest, and kissing the one wo love best." Then the stories
of the Stage-Coach have their turn, which create a tumult of
laughter. After which we have Blindman's Bnff, and one poor
creature after another is made to grope about the room in
Egyptian darkness. Such are the plays, with many more of
like character, which we enjoy, while our sable friend is
straining away at his old fiddle, as if determined to be heard
above the surrounding clamor of talking, laughing, and singing
voices.

The supper hour having arrived, a general adjournment takes
place, when the unnumbered good things of the table are ap-
propriated to their legitimate use. Half an hour is then allotted
^ to the young ladies to get ready, and by nine o'clock the sleighs
are at the door, and after a delightful ride of an hour in the
clear moonlight, we are at our village homes, and the memory
of our sleigh-ride commencing its existence.

One, two, and perhaps three weeks have I been confined at
school, when the notion pops into my head that I must go a-
hunting, for my sporting friend, Francis Bannac (a French-
man,) hu told me that game is now quite abundant. My

BBOOLLBOIIOKS OF MIOHIGAN.

158

father has granted me his permission, and Bannac tells me
that I maj be his companion on a tramp of nine miles to the
head-waters of Plum Greek. A pack of wolves, of whose de-
predations we have heard, are th# principal game we have in
view. Having finished the usual preliminaries of a winter
hunt, and arrayed ourselves accordingly, we seize our gnns^
whistle to our grayhounds, and with the sun midway up the
heavens start upon the tramp. A walk of twenty minutes
brings us to the edge of the forest, where we sti4ke an ancient
Indian trail and proceed on our way. A gorgeous landscape-
panorama is that through which we are passing, and ourselves^
I ween, the most appropriate and picturesque figures that could
be introduced. Foremost is the tall and sinewy person of
Bannac, with a snugly-fitted buckskin garment tightened round
his waist by a wampum belt, cowhide moccasins on his feet,
coon skin cap on his black head, pouch and powder-horn, to^
getlier with knife and tomahawk at his side, and in his right
hand a heavy rifle. Next to him trotteth the deponent, who
might be looked upon as a miniature Bannac, with variations^
— while a little in our rear are the two hounds playing with
each other, or standing still and looking among the trees for
game. All around us is a multitudinous army of forest soldiers,
from the youthful maple or ash, to the rugged and storm*
scathed oak or bass-wood ; and marvellously beautiful to my
mind is the tracery of their numberless brauches against the
blue sky, though my friend would probibly liken those very
tree-tops to the head of some "loafer" that had never made
use of a comb. The earth in covered with a thick coating of
dead leaves, with here and there a little island of snow. Now
we perceive a beautiful elm lodged in the giant branches of an
old walnut, like a child seeking consolation in the arms of its
fttther ; and now we come to a deformed beech-tree, prostrate
upon the earth, with its uncouth roots wasting to decay, and
the idea enters my mind that such will eventually be the destiny
of all Falsehood. The woods in the irinter are indeed deso*
late. The green leaves are no longer here to infuse into our
hearts ft portion of their happiness, as they " olap their hands

154

BECOLLBOTIONS OF MIOHIOAN.

in glee," and the joyous birds of summer arc not here to make
melody in their own hearts, as well as oars. True, that mosses
of varied hue and texture are on every side, and in their love
enveloping stumps, stones, fl-unks, and branches, yet they re-
mind us of the pall and shroud. What footsteps do wc hear,
and why do the hounds start so suddenly ? We have frightened
a noble buck ; but a moment has elapsed and he is beyond our
reach. The hounds, however, are close behind him already,
and the three fire bounding away in splendid style, illustrating
to perfection the poetry of motion. We fancy that the race
mil be a short one, and therefore start in pursuit, managing
to keep in sight of our game. Heavens ! what a leap that was
over those fallen trees ! but the hounds have done their duty,
and the c6urse is once more clear. A lot of ravens far up in
the upper air seem to be watching our movements, as if hoping
for a meal of venison, — and a gray eagle flies screaming across
our pat}i, as if to mock us for being without wings. Glossy
black squirrels peep out of their holes in wonder at the com-
motion, and a flock of wild turkeys which we have alarmed,
are running from us in great confusion, like a company of
militia before a cavalcade of horsemen. But see ! the buck
has turned upon his pursuers, and while they are battling to-
gether we have time to approach within gun-shot. Quicker
than thought Baar <'':jd his rifle, a sharp report follows, a
bullet has dropped I ..orest king, and he must die. We skiu
him, secure ^e two hams, and after examining our compass,
and finding that wo are near our place of destination, shoulder
our plunder as best we may, and make a bee-line for the log
cabin of our intended host, whoro we arrive in due time, and
exchange friendly congratulations.

Well, now thi* we are hero, I must give a brief description
of the man whose guests wo arc, and of the lonely place which
ho inhabits. Like my bachelor friend, Bannac, Antoine Cum-
pau is a Frenchman and a hunter, but a widower, and the
father of two little girls, and a strapping boy df fifteen. A
singular love oi freedom first prompted him to leave the settle-
ment where ho once lived, and to locate himself in the woods,

REOOLLBCTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

156

where, between a little farming and a good deal of hunting, he
manages to support himself and family quite comfortably. His
dwelling is a rusty-looking log house, situated on a pleasant
little stream, in the centre ^f a dead clearing some three acres
wide. The live stock of this embryo farm consists of a cow,
one yoke of oxen, a pony, a few sheep, about three dozen hens,
and a number of foxy-looking do^^s. And now that the long
winter evening has set in, and as the whole family is present,
I will picture the interior of our cabin. The only room, ex-
cepting the garret, is an oblong square, twenty feet by fifteen.
The unboardeu walls, by the smoke of years, have been changed
into a rich mahogany-brown. The only light in the room is
that which proceeds from an immense fire-place, where nearly
a common cart-load of wood is burning, and hissing, and crack-
ling at its own free will, so that the remotest corners are made
cheerful by the crimson glow. The principal articles of furni-
ture are a bed, one large table standing in the centre of the
floor, and some half dozen rusji-chnirs, while in- one corner
stands a number of shot-guns and rifles, and a ladder leadinjg
to the loft, and from the rafters above are hanging pouches,
powder-horns, leggins, a brace of wild ducks, one or two deer-
hams, and a bundle of dressed skins. The dogs of the family,
numbering only four, together with their dandy visitors, "are
scattered about the rooms, — one lying upon the hearth and
watching the fire, one playing with his shadow, another walk-
ing thoughtfully across the floor, and the .other sound asleep.
A bountiful supper having been prepared by the daughters,
the whole family, with their guests, are seated at the table,
and all past sorrows and future anxieties are forgotten in the
enjoyment of the passing hour. Bannac and Gampau have all
the talking to themselves, as they have to relate their mani-
fold adventures and wonderful escapes, wherein they make use
of no less than three languages — bad French, broken English,
and genuine Potawatamie. The leisure hour following supper
is devoted principally to the cleaning of our rifles^ the mould-
ing of bullets, and other matters preliminary to the capture of
a few wolves.

156

BECOLLKCTIONS OF MIOHIOAN.

Ufm

mm^ms

For the novel mode which we are to parsue on this occasion,
we are indebted to oar friend Campau, and he tells us it will
positively prove successful. From his account, it appears that
only a few evenings ago his sheep wtre attacked by the wolves,
and before he could run to their rescue, one of them was killed,
but the thieves were compelled to part with it, or run the risk
of losing their lives. To^da^, Campau has built a large pen,
wherein he has placed the dead sheep as a kind of bait. His
idea is that the wolves will of course revisit this spot to-night,
and when they are in the act of climbing over the pen, we,
who are to be hidden within gun-shot, will give them the cold
lead. Behold us then at the midnight hour in our treacherous
ambush.

Listen ! Hear you not the dismal shriek of an owl ? Our
enemies must be coming, for their footsteps have disturbed the
feathered hermit, as he sat upon a limb with a red squirrel in
his claw. Yes, there they are, the prowling thieves, just
without the shadow of the wood, dodging along between the
blackened stumps of the clearing. There are five of them,
and sec ! with what activity they leap into the fold ! Now is
our time to settle them. We rush forward with a shout, when
the villains commence a retreat, and as they mount the high
enclosure, we succeed in shooting three, while the other two
escape unharmed. The dead culprits having been stripped of
their hides, their carcasses are carried awfty and exposed for
food to the vulture .and crow. We then return to our cabin
and sleep until late in the morning, when we are surprised to
find that a regular snow-storm has set in. Our sporting for
to-day, which was to have been of a miscellaneous character,
is given up, and Bannao thinks it better that he and I should
turn our faces homeward in spite of the storm. Whereupon^
after a good breakfast, we take leave of our hospitable friends,
and through the falling snow, enter the forest on our return.

Snow, snow, 8now,-~above us, around us, and under our feet,
to the depth of some half doeen inches. In large feathery
flakes it floats downward through the still air, and it also muffles
our footsteps as we tramp through the pathless and desolate

„*♦

BECOLLEOTIONS OF MICHmAN.

167

woods. Every thing that meets the eye is enveloped in a downy
covering: not only the prostrate and decayed tree, but the
"topmost twig that looks up at the sky." Slowly and heavily,
without game, or a single adventure, we are compelled to trudgb
along, and when we come in sight of the pleasant village, not
a penny care we for any thing else in this world, but a roaring
fire and a warm supper, — ^both of which in my father's dwelling
are we presently permitted to enjoy — and thus ende'th another
portion of my heart-song.

Among the peculiar character's which I remember, while
thinking upon my early days, none do I dwell upon with
more pleasurable feeling than an old Indian. My first acquaint-
ance with him took place when I was about twelve years old.
It was the pleasant summer-time. At an early hour of the day
I had launched my little birch canoe from the sloping bank
behind our orchard, and, accompanied by Rover, started on a
duck hunt down the river Raisin. I would here remark, that
the mouth of this beautiful river is studded with islands, and
has been, from time immemorial, celebrated for its abundance
of game. As I paddled along, I watched with an inward joy
the progress of the morning. The farm-houses that had been
long sleeping amid the silence of night, were now enlivened by
their inmates, who had sallied forth to perform their allotted
duties. At one moment my ears were saluted by a chorus of
voices from some neighboring poultry-yard, mingled with the
lowing of cows and the jingling of bells in the sheepfold. And
then I heard the singing of larks in the open fields, the neigh-
ing of a horse, or the shout of some happy boy. The mists,
frightened by the sunbeams, were rising from the river, and
from the trees on either side the dew was falling. I looked
upon the changmg landscape, smiling in its freshness, and felt
my heart swell within me, for I beheld the glory and goodness
of God, and I "blessed him unaware."

The ducks were very shy that day, and the few that I did
shoot were* taken on the wing. I was about making up my
mind to return home, when I beheld a single canvas-back rise
from the water in th« distance, and, seemingly unconscious of

158

REC0LL7 'TIONS OF MICHIGAN.

mj presence, fly directly over my head. I fired at it, and the
feathers flew. Slowly hut surely the bird descended, and at
last fell upon an island a quarter of a mile away. This was
soon reached, and a long hour did I search for my game among
the hushes and grass, but I sought in vain. This island was
about two furlongs in length and one in width. At one end
was a group of lofty sycamores, and at the other three black
maples sto'od together, like robbers plotting the destruction of an
enemy. Between and beneath these, the dark-green and luxu-
riant foliage of less ambitious trees formed to all appearance a
solid mass. Here the light-green ivy encircled some youthful
ash, from whose top it wandered among the limbs of other
trees ; and there, the clustering fruit hung in great abundance
from the brown grape-vine. While rambling about this island,
I discovered in its centre a little clearing or miniature prairie,
on which stood a single wigwam. A wreath of smoke rose from
its chimney between the trees, gracefully curling upward to the
sky. I entered the hut, and beheld the form of an Indian,
who was engaged in cooking his noonday meal. At first he was
surprised at my presence, but when I told him I was merely on
a hunting excursion, his countenance changed, and ho mani-
fested much pleasure. His kindness and my boyish familiarity
conspired to make us soon acquainted. He was » tall, athletic,
well-proportioned man, with dark eagle eyes. His long locks
of hair were now whitening with age. I will not dwell upon
the particulars of that interview. Let it suffice to know that I
departed from that " green and lovely isle," fooling that I hnd
a friend in the person of t lat old Indian.

Many a day, during thi,t summer and the ensuing autumn,
did I spend in his society. Many a table luxury brought I to
his lonely dwelling. Many a lesson has ho taught me, in the
arts of fishing and hunting. Long years have flown since then.
But the wild and pure enjoyments which I then participated in
with this old Indian, are deeply engraven on the tablet of my
memory.

We used often to enter our respective canoes and explore the
neighboring creeks and rivers, little islands of the bay, and

RBCOLLtCTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

159

others far out into the lake. We would bathe together,' at one
time wading out from the sandy and sloping shore, and again
leaping and diving from some abrupt headland into the clear
water, so clear and pure that the shells upon the bottom were
distinctly seen at the depth of twenty feet or more. I never
troubled myself about the origin of this old Indian. His name',
to whivt nation he belonged, or his reasons for thus living alone,
were things that I never desired to know. I was caitent to be
with him, and during our various excursions, to listen to his
wild legends, his narratives of strange adventures, and exploits,
which he would recount in broken English, though always with
the eloquence of nature. Ofttimcs I could not comprehend his
meaning, more especially when he described the beauties of the
Spirit Land, which he said existed far beyond the setting sun ;
and also when ho told me of its valleys, and mountains, and
forests, smiling under the influence of perpetual summer, where
the singing of birds was always heard, and where the buffalo,
the horse, the deer, the antelope, the bear, the wolf, the pan-
ther, the muskrat, and otter, flourished and fattened for its
inhabitants.

When we looked upon the lurid lightning, and listened to the
sullen roar cf the distant thunder, he would raise his hands to
heaven, exclaiming, " the Great Spirit is anf '," and kneeling
down, would kiss the ground in iear and adora'i,:€U. Pleasantly
indeed did the days of that summer, and the ensuing autumn,
pass away. At last winter came, and the waters of the ever-
murmuring Raisin were clasped in his icy chains. In a little
time I lost sight of my old friend, for his island home was de-
solate, — he had departed, — no one knew where. Spring came,
and I was sent to an eastern city to school. Five years were
flown, and I returned to the village of my birth. At the
twilight hour a few evenings after this, I was seated at an open,
window with my mother, inhaling the fragrance of blowing
flowers, and at times listening to the mellow tones of th': sweet
whippoorwill. All the important incidents that had transpired
during my absence,* were affectionately and particularly related.
Nothing, however, interested me so much as the following brief

"v,

..1 '

^•^

■f' '

41 ;.■■;.

■'H'

■ «■

'%.

160

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

account of my old Indian friend, which I now write down in
nearly the words in which it was told me.

" The summer after you left us, an Indian made his appear-
ance in our village, whose poverty and old age elicited the kind
sympathies and good wishes of al^ who knew him. Nothing
was known of his history, save that Be belonged to a tribe of
Potawatamies, a nation at this period almost extinct. Alas ! for
the poor aborigines of our country ! To them the earth is a dreary
place, and their only joy is in the hope that they will soon join
their kindred in the land of spirits. One by one, like the linger-
ing sands of an hour-glass, they are passing beyond the grave.

" As I heard you talk about an Indian, with whom you had
become acquainted while hunting, I thought this new comer
might be the identical one. While passing though the village
one day, I happened to meet him, and invited him to come up
and sup with us that evening. He did so ; and we were very
glad to hear that he was indeed your friend, whom you thought
dead. We discovered this fact from the manner in which he
spoke of a boy hunter, who used to visit him in his lonely
home. From that day he became our particular friend, as he
had been before the friend of the whole village.

*' His dress was poor and common, but in the true Indian
style. He was ever a great favorite among the boys, in whose
sports he ohe'n participated. It was his custom in summer to
sit beneath the great elm-tree on the green, and, gathering the
children around him, rehearse to them wild stories about the
red men of the forest. Sometimes he would spend a whole day
in whittling out bows and arrows for his youthful friends ; and
they in return would bestow on him various little presents, both
curious and rare. He had no particular abiding place. There
were a dozen houses where he was perfectly at home. He sel>
•dom alluded to his tribe, and never ventured beyond the limits
of the county. This was indeed unaccountable; but as he
seemed to possess so amiable a disposition, no one could believe
he had ever been guilty of a crime. Rather than this, it was
thought he had been banished from his nation on account of
some failure in warlike exploits, or some similar cause.

' KECOLLEOTIONS OF HICHIGAK.

161

"Perhaps, again, be was an Indian philosopher or poet, who
had unfortunately drawn upon himself the ill-vrill of his peo-
ple, by expressing some unpopular opinion. At times he would
enter the school-house, and listen attentively to the boys recit-
ing their lessons. ' A printed book he looked upon as a trea-
sure, and when one was given him, considered it a sacred gift,
though its contents he could not read. He would often enter
the church on the Sabbath, and in his seat near the pulpit, with
his head resting upon both hands, would listeuj with an anxious
gaze, to the preacher's words. He always left the house in a
pensive mood. To his mind the heaven of the Christian was
utterly incomprehensible. Of all the truths that were read to
him from the Bible, the most interesting and wonderful was the
history of our Saviour. When listening to this, he would often
clasp his hands in an ecstasy of delight, exclaiming, " How
good man ! how good man !"

"On all occasions of festivity he was a welcome guest.
Christmas and New Year were always happy days with him.
The little girls invited him to their pic-nic parties. The boys
on Saturday afternoon had him to keep tally when they were
playing ball. He was always the leader of the nutting-parties
in autumn, and a participator in the sleigh-rides of winter. In
fact, he was everywhere, and had a hand in almost every thing
that transpired.

" About six weeks ago it was reported throughout the village
that our old Indian friend was very sick, and at the point of
death. The intelligence was no less unexpected than melan-
choly. He had so completely won the aflfection of every body,
that it spread a universal gloom. In a few days he yielded up
his spirit to his Creator. The next day was the Sabbath, and
the one appointed for his burial. The sky was without a cloud,
and the cool breeze, as it rustled am'ong the leaves, brought
health and refreshment to the body and soul of every one. The
meadow-lark, and woodland birds sang louder and sweeter than
they were wont to do. A good man had died, and nature, ani-
mate and inanimate, seemed anxious to pronounce his requiem.
A larger funeral than this I have seldom seen. Old men and
11

162

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

^^%

women, yoang men and maidens, and little children, with tear-
ful eyes followed the old Indian to his grave. It is situated in
the northeast corner of the burying ground, in the shadow of
two weeping-willows, that seem the guardians of his silent rest-
ing place."

On the following morning, an hour before sunset, I stood be-
side the clay cottage of my Indian friend. Green was the
grass, and many and beautiful the flowers that flourished above
his grave. I plucked a single harebell and thought of the de-
parted, whom I dearly loved, — who was born a benighted hea-
then, but who died a Christian. The mildly beaming and
beautiful evening star had risen in the west, ere I departed
from the '* Silent City ;" but I felt that the flower I had plucked,
though faded, would in after hours remind me of my friend, and
I therefore came away in peace, repeating to myself these
words :

"And I am glad that ho has lived thus long,
And glad that he has gone to his reward ;
Nor deem that kindly Nature did him wrong,
Softly to disengage the vital cord.
When his weak hand grew palsied, and his eye.
Dark with the mists of age, it was his time to die."

Bryant.

And now comes the conclusion of my long rhapsody. The
time of my departure for my distant city home is at hand. A
few more wilderness pictures, illustrative of my native State as
it was in other days, and I will lay aside my pen.

Weary with the hunt, I lately sought the shady side of a
gentle hill, and extending my limbs upon the green sward
amused myself by watching the sky. I gazed upon the blue
canopy, and fancied it to be an ocean, beyond which the broad
and beautiful fields of heaven were basking beneath the smiles
of God. A few white feathery clouds were floating there, and
they seemed to me to be a fleet returning from their home of
peace. In the dark regions of night they had fought and con-
quered the enemy, and now, laden with redeemed souls, were
hastening to the haven of eternal rest. Fancy, which had pic-

over some (

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

163

tured this image, was gone ; I saw nothing save an eagle play-
ing above the trees of the forest, and in a moment I was a
dreamer.

It seemed to me that I entered the forest just as the glorious
summer sun was sinking to his repose. The evening star rose
in the west, and in a little while from the zenith a thousand
other bright constellations looked smilingly down upon the
earth. Something whispered me that I must spend the long
watches of that night in wandering in the wilderness ; and I
departed with the silence of a shadow, and the speed of a deer.
Strange, and wild, and beautiful were the scenes I beheld.

The mighty trees which rose on every side seemed lik^^ the
columns of a vast temple, whose mysterious winding aisles,
overhung with foliage, were deserted and desolate. No moving
objects met my eye, save the fire-flies that darted in all direc-
tions, floating and sinking like burning flakes of snow. The
gloomy silence was broken only by the chirp of the cricket, and
the song of the katydid. At intervals, too, the clear soothing
voice of the whippoorwill would echo far and near. The huge
masses of foliage above, reminded me of thunder-clouds, and
like them oppressed my spirit ; and it was so still that " the
dropping dew woke startling echoes in the sleeping wood."

My pathway was not smooth, for I was forced to leap, now
over some dead tree, and now over a pile of brush ; and again
over a mossy hillock, or some gurgling brooklet. Ever and
anon I caught a glimpse of the deep blue sky ; but in a mo-
ment it was lost to view, and I was in total darkness. My
vision was wonderful. I saw all surrounding objects with
intense clearness ; for to me the " darkness was as the light of
day." At times I paused to listen, startled by some distant
sound ; the howl of a wolf, the hooting of an owl, or the " ttum-
pct-tone" of a flying swan ; and as I listened, it would become
a murmur, then a whisper, and at last die into a breathless
stillness.

At the foot of a gnarled and stunted oak I saw the manly
form of an Indian, wrapped in his scarlet blanket, and extended
upon a bearskin. He was fast asleep. On one side of him.

164

RECOLLECTIONS OF HIOHIOAN.

pi'
J.'ji'i

4M0

and within his reach lay a hundle of arrows, and an unstrung
bow ; on the other, a knapsack of provisions and a wolfish-
looking dog. But this guardian of the slumbering savage was
also fast asleep. As I looked upon \.his simple picture, the
feelings of my heart responded to my thoughts, and I exclaimed,
though there was no echo to my words: "Poor, lone Indian!
Is that dog thy only friend ? Art thou indeed alone in the
wide, wide world ? Hast thou no wife to sympathize with thee,
to love thee, in those hours of disappointment and trouble in-
cident to human life ? No children to play around thy knees,
and make thee happy in some comfortable wigwam, when tlio
blue and scarlet birds make melody in summer, and the wind
Euroclydon howls and roars among the forest trees in winter ?
Hast thou no daughter to protect and cherish, that she may be
the bride of some future warrior ? No son to listen, with flash-
ing eye, to thy hunting lessons ; to smite his breast with pride
and anger as thou tellest him of the bravery and wrongs of thy
ancestors ? that I knew thy history ! But I will not disturb
thy slumber. May thy dreams be of that land beyond the sun-
set clouds, where perpetual summer reigns, — the land of the
Great Spirit, — the God of thy fathers."

How vividly do the scenes and incidents of that night rise
before my vision ! I see them now with the same distinctness
that I beheld them then. I stand upon the shore of that dark
stream, rolling through the dense woods, where the full blaze
of daylight has not penetrated for centuries. I hear that un-
couth but solemn funeral hymn, and see a band of stern red
men performing their mysterious rites over the grave of an
aged chieftain.

Not less sudden than varied are the scenes I behold. On
that high dry limb, under a canopy of leaves, a flock of tur-
keys are roosting. They are all asleep save one, and he is
acting the part of a sentinel, darting out his long nock, now
this way, now that, as if he beheld an enemy. Fat, sleepy fel-
low ! There was a time when it would have been temerity to
look at me thus. I am not a hunter now, else would I bring
you down from your lofty resting-place.

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

165

My course is onward. Hark ! I hear a yell, and a rushing
sound. Two wolves are chasing a beautiful doe. Poor crea-
ture ! _ Her strength is already lessening, her race is run. The
wolves have seized her. There is a struggle ; the blood issues
from her graceful neck ; one gasp more and the tender mother
of two sweet fawns lies dead. Its bones will moulder and min-
gle with the earth, giving nourishment to that cluster of hazel-
bushes, which stand beside her mossy death-bed. Awakened
by the scent, a croaking raven is wheeling in the distance. Its
wings flap heavily, and there are two, and still another ! See !
we come to a kind of opening, — a place where the trees grow
less closely together. A cloud of thin white smoke is rising,
as if from yonder pile of underbrush. It is an Indian encamp-
ment ; a dozen bark wigwams, shaped like a sugar-loaf. But
why this bustle, at so late an hour ? The men have just re-
turned from a three days' hunting tour, and they are now re-
leasing their pack-horses from their loads of spoil. The blaze
from a fire gives all surrounding objects a ruddy glow. In dire
confusioH upon the ground lie haunches of venison, red and
gray squirrels and racoons, turkeys, grouse, ducks, pheasants,
and many other lesser birds, mingled with guns, bows and ar-
rows, shot- pouches, powder-horns, skins, halters, brass kettles,
and the like. The men are busy, and the women too. Roused
from a four hours' nap, several children are coming out of their
tents, rubbing their eyes. They seem to be the only playmates
of the whining dogs.

Lo ! what a beauteous sight ! A herd of deer reposing like
a family of wood-sprites, near yonder clump of young maples.
There are three bucks, five does, and two lovely spotted fawns.
Upon that decayed "stump" beyond, a solitary American
nightingale is resting. It is my favorite bird. Would that I
knew the cause of its complainings and chastisement, for every
now r.nd then it utters forth the cry, " Why whip poor Will ?"

What silver rays are those darting down through the leafy
boughs ? The moon ! the moon ! High in heaven she sails,
in queenly beauty. The very heart of the forest is not beyond
her vivifying influence. Festoons of oreeping plants hang from

)iJ

166

BECOLLEOTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

.■ •

the surrounding limbs ; and the ivy and grape-vine have twined
themselves so closely around that ash, as entirely to hide from
view the bark of the trunk. I thrust my hand against a. bush,
and a thousand dew-drops fall to the earth, glittering in the
moonbeams. If my lady-love were with me, what a gorgeous
wreath could I now weave for her beautiful brow out of the
purple and scarlet iris, the blue larkspur, the moccasin-flower,
the crimson and green lichen, and other mosses, flowers, and
vines, too delicate to have a name.

A gentle breeze is stirring. The tops of the trees are mov-
ing to and fro with the strong but gentle motion of a ground-
swell. Soothing is the music of the leaves ; they seem to mur-
mur with excess of joy. Another sound echoes through the
listening wilderness. It is only a scufile between a panther and
a bear. Let them growl and fight ; who cares ? How like
two hot-headed politicians they seem !

Again are the trees becoming thinner, and my steps are
tending downward. The green-sward I press is without a sin-
gle stick or bramble. Here I am upon the brink of a little
lake of the very purest water ! The breeze has spent its force,
and everything is still. It is " the bridal hour of the earth
and sky !" What a perfect mirror is this liquid element ! The
counterpart of two willows, a grass-grown rock, tall reeds, and
beyond all, a row of slender elms, and a lightning-shivered
pine, are distinctly seen, pointing downward, downward to the
moon and stars, in the cerulean void beneath. And in yon
deep shadow a flouk of ducks are floating silently, amid tlio
sweet perfume of the wild lotus and white water-lily, which are
growing near. One or two have wandered out into the lake,
making no ripple, but moving as if lured away by the glossy
loveliness of their shadows.

But see ! I have reached — surely it can be no other — a
prairie! What dark cloud is brooding over this motionless
ocean ? — a mighty flame bursting from its centre ? It comes !
it comes ! The prairie is on fire ! The wind is rising, and
swift as the wind speed the flame-banners. Maddened by fear,
the buflalo, the wild horse, the wolf, the doer, birds and other

RECOLLECTIONS OF MICHIGAN.

167

living creatures, are fleeing for their lives. Roaring and hiss-
ing the fire-flood rolls on, swallowing up everything in its
course. And now it has gone, leaving behind it a wide path
of blackness. The smoke obscures the moon and stars. " Far
off its coming shone;" the incense, one could almost imagine,
of a sacrifice offered to the great God by the Earth, for some
enormous sin. But it is gone, and I resume my journey.

I am now in an open country of hills and dales. A narrow
but deep river is gliding by me in its pride and beauty. Now
it is lost to view by some abrupt headland, and anon it makes
a long sweep through a plain or meadow, its ripples sporting
in the moonlight. I hear the splash of fish,'leaping from their
watery bed. I hear the measured stroke of a paddle. It is an
Indian in his canoe, passing down the river. He has startled
a loon from his wavy cradle below the rapids. I hear the
sound of a waterfall A mile away there is a precipice, where
the river gathers all its strength for a fearful leap. Now its
surface is without a ripple, — but in a moment more, it plunges
down among the rocks, and the waves struggle, and leap, and
rise and sink, like demon spirits in agony.

I am standing on a hill which overlooks a lovely landscape of
woods and lawns, streams, hills, valleys, and cultivated fields,
— farm-houses, and church steeples. In the distance sleep the
bright-green waves of Lake Erie. A streak of daylight is in
the eastern sky. The spell is broken ; — my dream and my
wayward pilgrimage are both ended.

iMmBSKi

A TOUR

TO TUB

KIVER SAGUENAY

fi' Mf

iiij^;H?{|i

THE CATSKILL MOUNTAINS.

I COMMENCE this chapter in the language of Leather Stock-
ing : — " You know the Catskills, lad, for you must have seen
them on your left, as you followed the river up from York,
looking as blue as a piece of clear sky, and holding the clouds
on their tops, as the smoke curls over the head of an Indian
chief at a council-fire." Yes, everybody is acquainted with
the names of these mountains, but few with their peculiarities
of scenery. Associated as they are with such proud names as
Cooper and Irving, Bryant and Cole, it is not strange that they
should be particularly dear to every American. ' They are si-
tuated about eight miles from the Hudson, rise to an average
elevation of about thirty-five hundred feet, and running in a
straight line from north to south, cover a space of come twenty-
five miles. The fertile valley on the east is as beautiful as heart
could desire ; it is watered by the Kauterskill, Flauterkill and
Esopus creeks, inhabited by a sturdy Dutch yeomanry, and is
the agricultural mother of the towns known as Catskill, Sau-
gerties and Kingston. The upland on the west for about forty
miles is rugged, dreary and thinly settled, but the winding val-
ley of Schoharie beyond is possessed of many charms pecu-
liarly American. The mountains themselves are covered with
dense forests abounding in clifis and waterfalls, and for tho
most part untrodden by the footsteps of man. Looking at them
from the Hudson, the eye is attracted by two deep hollows,
which are called *' Cloves." The one nearest to the Mountain
House, Kauterskill Clove, is distinguished for a remarkable
fall, which has been made familiar to the world by tho pen of

'..i(e'-

"im

172

THE CATSKILL MOUNTAINS.

Bryant and the pencil of Cole ; but this Clove is rapidly fill-
ing with human habitations ; while the other, Plauterkill Clove,
though yet possessing much of its original glory, is certain of
the same destiny. The gorge whence issues the Etopus, is
among the Shandaken mountains, and not visible from the
Hudson.

My nominal residence, at the present time, is at the mouth
of Plauterkill Clove. To the west, and only half a mile from
my abode, are the beautiful mountains, whose outlines fade
away to the north, like the waves of the sea when covered with
a visible atmosphere. The nearest, and to me the most beloved
of these, is called South Peak. It is nearly four thousand feet
high, and covered from base to summit with one vast forest of
trees, varying from eighty to an hundred feet in height. Like
its brethren, it is a wild and uncultivated wilderness, abounding
in all the interesting features of mountain scenery. Like a
comer-stone, does it stand at the junction of the northern and
western ranges of the Catskills ; and as its huge form looms
against the evening sky, it inspires one with awe, as if it were
the ruler of the world : — yet I have learned to love it as a
friend. I have pondered upon its impressive features when
reposing in the noontide sunshine, when enveloped in clouds,
when holding communion with the most holy night, and when
trembling under the influence of a thunder-storm and encircled
by a rainbow. It has filled my soul with images of beauty and
sublimity, and made me feel the omnipotence of God.

A day and a night was it lately my privilege to spend upon
this mountain, accompanied by & poet friend. We started at
an early hour, equipped in our brown fustians, and laden with
well-filled knapsacks — one with a hatchet in his belt, and the
other with a brace of pistols. We were bound to the extreme
summit of the peak, where we intended to spend the night,
witness the rising of the sun, and return at our leisure on the
following day. But when I tell my readers that our course lay
right up the almost perpendicular side of the mountain, where
there was no path save that formed by a torrent or a bear, they
will readily believe it was somewhat rare and romantic. But

THE CATSKILL MOUNTAINS.

173

this was what we delighted in ; so we shouted '' excelsior !"
and commenced the ascent. The air was excessively sultry,
and the very first effort we made caused the peroplration to
start most profusely. Upward, upward was our course, now
climbing through a tangled thicket, or under the spray of a
cascade, and then, ajrain, supporting ourselves by the roots of
saplings, or scrambling under a fallen tree ; — now, like the
samphire gatherer, scaling a precipice, and then again clamber-
ing over a rock, or " shinning" up a hemlock tree to reach a
desired point.

Our first halt was made at a singular spot called " Hunter's
Hole," which is a spacious cavern or pit, forty feet deep, and
twenty wide, and approached only by a fissure in the mountain,
sufficiently large to admit a man. Connected with this place
is the following story. Many years ago, a farmer, residing at
the foot of the mountain, having missed a favorite dog, and
being anxious for his safety, called together his neighbors, and
offered a reward for the safe return of his canine friend. Always
ready to do a kind deed, a number of them started in different
directions for the hunt. A barking sound having been heard
to issue from this cavern, it was discovered, and at the bottom
of it the lost dog, which had probably fallen therein while
chasing a fox. " But how shall he be extricated from this
hole ?" was the general inquiry of the now assembled hunters.
Not one of all the group would venture to descend, under any
circumstances ; so that the poor aniiral remained a prisoner for
another night. But the next morning he was released, and by
none other than a brave boy, the son of the farmer and play-
mate of the dog. A large number of men were present on the
occasion. A strong rope was tied around the body of the child,
and he was gently lowered down. On reaching the bottom,
and finding, by the aid ol his lamp, that he was in a " real nice
place," the little rogue concluded to have some sport, where-
upon he proceeded to pull down more rope, until he had made
a coil of two hundred feet, which was bewildering enough to
the crowd above ; but nothing happened to him during the ad-
venture, and the dog was rescued. The young hero having

174

THK OATSKILL MOUNTAINS.

if^^^l

played his trick so well, it was generally supposed, for a long
time after, that this cavern was two hundred feet deep, and
none were ever found sufficiently bold to enter in, even after a
beautiful fox. The bravery of the boy, however, was the
cause of his death, for he was cut down by a leaden ball in the
war of 1812.

The next remarkable place that we attained in ascending
South Peak, was the Bear Bank, where, in the depth of winter,
may be found an abundance of these charming creatures. It
is said thjjt they have often been seen sunning themselves, even
from the hills east of the Hudson.

We were now upon a beetling precipice, three hundred feet
high, and under the shadow of a huge pine, we enjoyed a slico
of bread and pork, with a few drops of genuine mountain dew.
Instead of a dessert of strawberries and cream, however, we
were furnished by venerable dame Nature with a thunder-storm.
It was one that we had noticed making a great commotion in
the valley below. It had, probably, discovered two bipeds go-
ing towards its homoj the sky, and seemed to have pursued us
with a view of frightening us back again. But, " knowing
that Nature never did betray the heart that loved her," wc
awaited the thunder-storm's reply to our obstinate refusal to
descend. The cloud was yet below us, but its unseen herald, a
strong east wind, told us that .the conflict had commenced.
Presently, a peal of thunder resounded through the vast pro-
found, which caused the mountain to tremble to its deep foun-
dation. And then followed another, and another, as the storm
increased ; and the rain and hail poured down in floods. Think-
ing it more safe to expose ourselves to the storm than remain
under the pine, we retreated without delay, when we were sud-
denly enveloped in the heart of the cloud,, only a few rods
distant. Then a stroke of lightning blinded us, and the tower-
ing forest monarch was smitten to the earth. We were in the
midst of an unwritten epic poem about that time, but we could
not appreciate its beauties, for another peal of thunder, and
another stroke of lightning, attracted our whole attention.
Soon as these had passed, a terrible gale followed in their wake,

y ^-imi

THE CATSKILL MOUNTAINS.

175

tumbling down piles of loose rocks, and bending to the dust, as
though in passion, the resisting forms of an army of trees ; and
afterwards, a glorious rainbow spanned the mountain, appear-
ing like those distinguishing circles around the temples of the
Mighty and Holy, as portrayed by the painters of old. The
commotion lifted for an hour, when the region of the Bear
Bank became as serene as the slumber of a babe. A spirit of
silent prayer was brooding upon the earth and in the air, and
with a shadow of thoughtfulness at our hearts, we resumed our
upward march.

Our next halting place was upon a sort of peninsula called
the Eagle's Nest, where, it is said, an Indian child was formerly
carried by one of those birds, and cruelly destroyed, and whence
the frantic mother, with the mangled body of her babe, leaped
into the terrible abyss below. From this point we discovered
a host of clouds assembled in council above High Peak, as if
discussing the parched condition of the earth, and the speediest
mode of affording relief to a still greater extent than they had
done ; and far away to the west, was another assembly of
clouds, vieiug, like sporting children, to outrun and overleap
each other in their aerial amphitheatre.

After this we surmounted another point called Battlesnake
Ledg^. Here the rocks were literally covered with the white
bones of those reptiles, slaughtered by the hunter in by-gone
years, and we happened to see a pair of them that were alive.
One was about four feet long, and the other, which was only
half as large, seemed to be the offspring of the old one, for,
when discovered, they were playing together like an affectionate
mother with her tender child. Soon as we appeared in their
presence, the serpents immediately ceased their sport, and in
the twinkling of an eye coiled themselves in the attitude of
battle. The conflict was of sliort duration, and to know thu
result you need only look into my cabinet of curiosities.

Higher yet was it our lot to climb. We went a little out of
our course to obtain a bird's-eye view of a mountain lake. In
its tranquil bosom the glowing evening sky and mountain sides
were vividly reflected, and the silence surrounding it was so

176

THE OATSKILL MOUNTAINS.

profound that we could almost hear the ripples made by a soli-
tary duck, as it swam from one shore to the other in its utter
loneliness. Very beautiful, indeed, was this picture, and as I
reflected upon it, I thought that as the Infant of Bethlehem
was tenderly protected by the parents who watched over its
slumbers, so was this exquisite lake cradled and protected in
the lap of the mountains.

One sight more did we behold before reaching the summit of
South Peak. It was the sunset hour, and on & jutting clifT
which commanded an immense view, our eyes were delighted
by the sight of a deer, standing still, and looking down upon
the silent void below, which was then covered with a deep pur-
ple atmosphere, causing the prospect to resemble the boundless
ocean. It was the last of its race we could not but fancy,
bidding the human world good night, previous to departing for
its heathery couch in a nameless ravine.

One effort more and the long-desired eminence was attained,
and we were a little nearer the evening star than we had ever
been before. It was now the hour of twilight, and as we were
about done over with fatigue, it was not long before we had
pitched our leafy tent, eaten some supper, and yielded our-
selves to the embrace of sleep, '' dear mother of fresh thoughts
and joyous health !"

At midnight, a cooling breath of air having passed across
my face, I was awakened from a fearful dream, which left mc
in a nervous and excited state of mind. A strange and solemn
gloom had taken possession of my spirit, which was greatly
enhanced by the doleful song of a neighboring hemlock grove.
Our encampment having been uade a little below the summit
of the peak, and feeling anxious to behold the prospect at that
hour, from that point, I awakened my companion, and wc
seated ourselves upon the topmost rock, which was nearly bare
of shrubs, but covered with a rich moss, softer and more beau-
tiful than the finest carpet. But how can I describe the scene
that burst upon our enraptured vision ? It was unlike any-
thing I had ever seen before, creating a lone, lost feeling,
which I supposed could only be realized by a wanderer in an

us, were 1

THE CATBKILL MOUNTAINS.

177

uninhabited wilderness, or on the ocean, a thousand leagues
from home. Above, around and beneath us, ay, far beneath
U8, were the cold bright stars, and to the eastward the "young
moon with the old moon in her arms." In the west were float-
ing a little band of pearly clouds, which I almost fancied to be
winged chariots, and that they were crowded with children,
jhe absent and loved of other years, who, in a frolic of blissful
joy, were out upon the fields of heaven. On one side of us
reposed the long broad valley of the Hudson, with its cities,
towns, villages, woods, hiils, and plains, whose crowded high-
way was diminished to a narrow girdle of deep blue. Towards
the south, hill beyond hill, field beyond field receded to the
sky, occasionally enlivened by a peaceful lake. On our right
a multitudinous array of rugged mountains lay piled up, appa-
rently as impassable as the bottomless gulf. In the north, old
High Peak, King of the Catskills, bared his bosom to the
moonlight, as if demanding and expecting the homage of the
world. Strange and magnificent, indeed, was the prospect
from that mountain watch-tower, and it was with reluctance
that we turned away, as in duty bound, to slumber until the
dawn. The dawn ! and now for a sunrise picture among the
mountains, with all the illusive performances of the mists and
clouds ! He comes ! he comes ! " the king of the bright days !' '
Now the crimson and golden clouds are parting, and he bursts
on the bewildered sight ! One moment more, and the whole
earth rejoices in his beams, falling alike as they do upon the
prince and the peasant of every land. And now, on either
side and beneath the sun an array of new-born clouds are
gathering — like a band of cavaliers, preparing to accompany
their leader on a journey. Out of the Atlantic have they just
arisen ; at noon, they will have pitched their tents on the ceru-
lean plains of heaven ; and when the hours of day are num-
Wred, the far-off" waters of the Pacific will again receive them
m its cool embrace. Listen ! was not that the roar of waves ?
Naught but the report of thunder in the valley below. Are
not tho ' ' > oceans coming together ? See ! we are on a rock
in the midst of ai illimitable sea, and the tide is surely rising
%%

dlffl

mig

. .tt- ■ rt?^

•"II.Fw

178

THE CATSKILL MOUNTAINS.

'il'^ij^uju^r

— rising rapidly ! Strange ! it is still as death, and yet the
oceans are covered with billows ! Lo ! the naked masts of a
ship, stranded on a lee shore ! — and yonder, as if a reef were
hidden there to impede their course, the waves are struggling
in despair, now leaping to the sky, and now plunging into a
deep abyss ! And when thoy have passed the unseen enemy,
how rapid and beautiful a:c'^ thei'' various evolutions, as they
hasten to the more distant si . ^ Another look, and what a
change ! The mists of morning are being exhaled by the rising
sun, already the world of waters is dispersed, and in the valley
of the Hudson, far, far away, are reposing all the enchanting
features of the green earth.

We descended the mountain by a circuitous route, that we
might enjoy the luxury of passing through Plauterkill Clove.
The same spring that gives rise to Schoharie Creek, which is
the principal tributary of the Mohawk, also gives rise to the
Plauterkill. In its very infancy, it begins to leap and laugh
Avith the gladness of a boy. From its source to the plain, the
distance is only two miles, and yet it has a fall of twenty-five
hundred feet ; but the remainder of its course, until it reaches
the Esopus, is calm and picturesque, and on every side, and
at every turn, may bo seen the farm-houses of a sturdy yeo-
manry.

The wild gorge or dell through which it passes, abounds in
waterfalls of surpassing beauty, varying from ten to a hundred
feet in height, whose rocks are green with the moss of centu-
ries, and whose brows arc evec wreathed with the most exqui-
site of vines and flowers. Here is the Double Leap, with its
almost fathomless pool, containing a hermit trout that has
laughed nt the angler's skill for a score of years ; the fall of
tho Mountain Spirit, haunted, as it is said, by the disembodied
spirit of an Indian girl, who lost her life hero while pursuing a
phantom of the brain ; and hero is tho Blue-bell Fall, forever
guarded by a multitudinous array of those charming flowers.
Caverns, too, and chasms aro here, dark, deep, chilly, and
damp ; where the toad, tho lizard and snake, and strange fa-
milies of insects, are perpetually multiplying, and actually

THE CATSKILL MOUNTAINS.

I7y

seeming to enjoy their loathsome lives ; and here is the Black
Chasm, and the Devil's Chamber, the latter with a perpendi-
cular wall of twice the height of old Trinity, and with a wain-
scoting of pines and hemlocks which have " braved a thousand
years the battle and the breeze." Plauterkill Clove is an eddy
of the great and tumultuous world, and in itself a world of un-
written poetry, whose primitive loveliness has not yet been dis-
figured by the influence of Mammon. It has been consecrated
by a brotherhood of friends, well-tried and true, to the pure
religion of Nature ; and after spending a summer-day therein,
and then emerging under the open sky, their feelings are
always allied to thoso of a pilgrim in a strange land, passing
through the dreamy twilight of an old cathedral.

But it is time that I should change my tune, as I desire to
record a few fishing adventures which I have lately experienced
among the Catskills. My first excursion was performed along
the margin of Sweetwater Brook, which flows out of the lake
already mentioned. My guide and companion was a notorious
huntei of this region, numcd Peter Hummel, whose services I
have engaged for all my future rambles among the mountains.
He is, decidedly, one of the wildest and rarest characters I
have ever known, and would bo a valuable acquisition to a
menagerie. He was born in a little hut at the foot of South
Peak, is twenty-seven years of age, and has never been to
school a day in his life, nor, in his travels towards civilization,
further away from homo than fifteen miles. Ho was educated
for a bark-gatherer, his father and several brothers having al-
ways been in the business ; but Peter is averse to common-
place labor, to anything, in fact, that will bring money. When
a boy of five years, he had an inkling for the mountains, and
once had wandered so far, that he .was found by his father in
the den of an old bear, playing with her cubs. To tramp
among the mountains, with a gun and dog, is Peter's chief and
only happiness. Ho is, probably, one of the best specimens of
a hunter now living; and very few, I fancy, could have sur-
vived the dangers to which ho has exposed himself. As to his*
constitution, ho seoms to bo ono of those iron mortals who never

.".iiii
!' ^ ^ OT,™,, ... ,

:1I

180

THE CATSEILL MOUNTAINS.

«He with age and infirmity, but who generally meet with a sud-
den death, as if to recompense them for their heedlessness.
But with all his wildness and recklessness, Peter Hummel is as
amiable and kind-hearted a man as ever breathed. He is an
original wit withal, and shrewd and very laughable are many
of his speeches, and his stories are the cream of romance and
genuine mountain poetry.

But to my story. As usual, we started on our tramp at an
early hour, he with a trout-basket in his hand, containing our
dinner, and I with my sketch-book and a " pilgrim staff."
After a tiresome ascent of three hours up the side of a moun-
tain, over ledges, and through gloomy ravines, we at last reached
the wished-for brook. All the day long were we cheered by
its happy song, as we descended ; now leaping from ono deep
pool to another, and now scrambling over green-coated rocks,
under and around fallen trees, and along the damp, slippery
sides of the mountains, until wo reached its mouth on a plain,
watered by a charming river, and sprinkled with the rustic
residences of the Dutch yeomanry. We were at homo by. sun-
set, having walked the distance of twenty miles, and captured
one hundred and fifty trout, the most of which wc distributed
among the farm-houses in our way, as wo returned. The trout
were quite small, varying from three to eight ounces in weight,
and of a dark-brown color.

On another occasion, I had taken my sketch-book and some
fishing-tackle, and gone up a mountain road to the banks of
Schoharie Creek, nominally for the purpose of sketching a few
trees. In the very first hole of tho stream into which I acci-
dentally peered, I discovered a largo trout, lying near tho bot-
tom, just above a littlo bed of sand, whence rose tho bubbles of
a spring. For some thirty, minutes I watched the follow witli
a "yearning tenderness," but as ho appeared to bo so very
happy, and I was in a kindred mood, I thought that I would lot
him live. Presently, however, a beautiful fiy lighted on tlie
water, which the greedy hermit swallowed in a minuto, and
returned to his cool bed, with his conscience, as I fancied, not
one whit troubled by what ho had done. Involuntarily I began

THB OATSKILL MOUNTAINS.

181

to unwind my line, and having cit a pole, and repeated to my-
self something about ''diamond cut diamond," I whipped on a
red hackle, and passed it over the pool. The rogue of a trout,
however, saw me, and scorned for a while to heed my line ; but
I coaxed and coaxed until, at last, he darted for it, apparently
out of mere spite. Something similar to a miniature water-
spout immediately arose, and the monarch of the brook was in
a fair way of sharing the same fate which had befallen the inno-
cent fly. I learned a salutary lesson from this incident, and
as I had yielded to the temptation of the brook, I shouldered
my sketch-book with a strap, and descended the stream. At
noon, I reached a farm-house, where I craved something to eat.
A good dinner was given me, which was seasoned by many
questions, and some information concerning trout. That after-
noon, in company with a little boy, I visited a neighboring
stream, called the Roaring Kill, where I caught one hundred
and sixty fish. I then returned to the farm-house, and spent
the evening in conversation with my new acquaintances. After
breakfast, on the following morning, I set out for home, and
reached there about noon, having made only two additions to
my sketches. Long shall I remember the evening spent with
this family, and tlieir hospitality towards an entire stranger.
A pleasant family was that night added to my list of friends.

Another of my trouting pilgrimages was to a famous place
called Stony Clove, among the mountains of Shandaken. It
is a deep perpendicular cut or gorge between two mountains,
two tiiousand feet in depth, from twenty feet to four hundred
in width, and completely lined from base to summit with luxu-
riant vegetation. It is watered by a narrow but deep brook,
which is so full of trout that some seven hundred were captured
by myself and two others in a single day. When I tell my
readers that this spot is only about one hundred miles from New
York, they will be surprised to learn that in its immediate
vicinity we saw no less than two bears, one doe with two fawns,
and other valuable game. In som^ parts of this clove the sun-
shine never enters, and whole tons of the purest ice may be
found there throughout the year. It is, indeed, a most lonely

182

THE OATSEILL MOUNTAINS.

fj.

MM^

and desolate corner of the world, and might be considered a
fitting type of the valley of the shadow of death ; in single file
did we have to pass through that gorge, and in single file do the
sons of men pass into the grave. To spend one day there we
had to encamp two nights, and how we generally manage that
affair I will mention presently.

In returning from Stony Clove, we took a circuitous route,
and visited the Mountain House. We approached it .by Avay
of the celebrated Catskill Falls, which I will describe in the
graphic language of Cooper, as my readers may not remember
the passage in his Pioneer. " Why, there's a fall in the hills,
where the water of two little ponds, that lie near each other,
breaks out of their bounds, and runs over the rocks into the
valley. The stream is, may be, such a one as would turn a
mill, if so useless a thing was wanted in the wilderness. But
the hand that made that ^Leap^ never made a mill! Then the
water comes croaking and winding among the rocks, first so
slow that a trout might swim in it, and then starting and run-
ning, like any creature that wanted to make a fair spring, till
it gets to where the mountain divides, like the cleft foot of a
deer, leaving a deep hollow for the brook to tumble into. The
first pitch is nigh two hundred feet, and the water looks like
flakes of snow afore it touches the bottom, and then gathers
itself together again for a new start, and, may be, flutters over
fifty feet of flat rock, before it falls for another hundred feet,
Avhen it jumps from shelf to shelf, first running this way and
that way, striving to get out of the hollow, till it finally conies
to the plain."

Our party, on this occasion, consisted of three — Peter Hum-
mel, a bark-gatherer and myself. I had chosen these fellows
for the expedition, because of their friendship for me and their
willingness to go; and I resolved to give them a "treat" at the
" Grand Hotel," which the natives of this region look upon as
a kind of paradise. You are aware, I suppose, reader, that the
Mountain House is an establishment vieing in its style of accom-
modations with the best of hotels. Between it and the Hudson
there is, during the summer, a semi-daily line of stages, and it

THE OATSKILL MOUNTAINS.

183

is the transient resort pf thousands, -who visit it for the novelty
of its location as well as for the surrounding scenery. The
edifice itself stands on a cliff, within a few feet of the edge, and
commands a prospect extending from Long Island Sound to the
White Mountains. The first time I visited this spot, I spent
half the night at my bed-room window, watching the fantastic
performances of a thunder-storm far below me, which made the
building tremble like a ship upon a reef, while the sky above
was cloudless, and studded with stars. Between this spot and
South Peak, " there's the High Peak and the Round Top,
which lay back, like a father and mother among their children,
seeing they are far above all the other hills."

But to proceed. Coarsely and comically Pressed as we were,
wo made a very unique appearance as we paraded into the
office of the hotel. I met a few acquaintances there, to whom
I introduced my comrades, and in a short time each one was
spinning a iliountain legend to a crowd of delighted listeners.
In due time I ushered tliem into the dining-hall, where was
enacted a scene which can be better imagined than described ;
the fellows were completely out of their element, and it was
laughable in the extreme, to see them stare and hear them
talk, as the servants bountifully helped them to the turtle soup,
ice cream, charlotte russe and ather fashionable dainties.

About the middle of the afternoon we commenced descending
the beautiful mountain-road leading towards the Hudson. In
the morning there had been a heavy shower, and a thousand
happy rills attended us with a song. A delightful nook on this
road is pointed out as the identical spot where Rip Van Winkle
slept away a score of his life. I reached home in time to spend
the twilight hour in my own room, musing upon the much-loved
mountains. I had but one companion, and that was a whip-
poorwill, which nightly comes to my window-sill, as if to tell me
a tale of its love, or of the woods and solitary wilderness.

But the most unique and interesting of my fishing adventures
remains to be described. I had heard a great deal about the
good fishing afforded by the lake already mentioned, and I de-
sired to visit it and spend a night upon its shore. Having

! A

m^'

mmm

l»-^ M

l^^Ri

i^W

ml mi

^YiWim MS^

'feiiH

ifrii

184

TUE CATSKILL MOUNTAINS.

spoken to my friend Hummel, and invited a neighbor to accom-
pany us, whom the people had named " White Yankee," the
noontide hour of a pleasant day found us on our winding march :
and such a grotesque appearance as we made was exceedingly
amusing. The group was mostly animated when climbing the
steep and rocky ravines which we were compelled to pass
through. There was Peter, " long, lank, and lean," and wild
in his attire and countenance as an eagle of the wilderness,
with an axe in his hand, and a huge knapsack on his back,
containing our provisions 'and utensils for cooking. Next to
him followed White Yankee, with three blankets lashed upon
his back, a slouched white hat on his head, and nearly half a
pound of tobacco «n hi? mouth. Crooked-legged withal, and
somewhat sickly was this individual, and being wholly unaccus-
tomed to this kind of business, he werft along groaning, grunt-
ing, and sweating, as if he was " sent for and didn't want to
come." In the rear tottered along your humbhe friend, dear
reader, with a gun upon his shoulder, a powder-horn and shot-
pouch at his side, cowhide boots on his feet, and a cap on his
head, his beard half an inch long, and his flowing hair stream-
ing in the wind.

We reached our place of destination about five o'clock, and
halted under a large impending rock, which was to bo our sleep-
ing place. We were emphatically under the " shadow of a
rock in a weary land." Our first business was to build a fire,
which we did with about one cord of green and dry wood.
Eighty poles were then cut, to which we fastened our lines.
The old canoe in the lake was bailed out, and, having baited
our hooks with the minnows we had brought with us, we planted
the poles in about seven feet water all around the lake shore.
Wo then prepared and ate our supper, and awaited the coming
on of night. During this interval I learned from Peter the
following particulars concerning the lake. It was originally
discovered by a hunter named Shew. It is estimated to cover
about fifty acres, and in the centre to be more than two hun-
dred feet in depth. For my part, however, I do not believe it
contains over five acres, though the mountains which tower on

THE CATSKILL MOUNTAINS.

185

every side but one, are calculated to deceive the eye ; but, as to
its depth, I could easily fancy it to be bottomless, for the water
is remarkably dark. To the number of trout in this lake there
seems to be no end. It is supposed they reach it, when small,
through Sweetwater Brook, when they increase, in size, and
multiply. It also abounds in green and scarlet lizards, which
are a serious drawback to the pleasures of the fastidious angler.
I asked Peter many questions concerning his adventures about
the lake, and he told me that the number of " harmless mur-
ders" he had committed here was about three hundred. In one
day he shot three deer ; at another time a dozen turkeys ; at
another twenty ducks ; one night an old bear ; and again half-
a-dozen coons ; and on one occasion annihilated a den of thirty-
seven rattlesnakes.

At nine o'clock we lighted a torch, and went to examine our
lines ; and it was my good fortune to haul out not less than
forty-one trout, weighing from one to two pounds a-piece.
These we put into a spring of very cold water, which bubbled
from the earth a few paces from, our camping place, and then
retired to repose. Branches of hemlock constituted our couch,
and ray station was between Peter and White Yankee. Little
did I dream, when I first saw these two bipeds, that I should
ever have them for my bed-fellows ; but who can tell what shall
be on the morrow ? My friends were in the land of Nod in
less than a dozen minutes after we had retired ; but it was
difficult for me to go to sleep in the midst of the wild scene
which surrounded rac. There I lay, flat on my back, a stone
and my cap for a pillow, and wrapped in a blanket, with my
nose exposed to the chilly night air. And what pictures did
my fancy conjure up, as I looked upon the army ( f trunks
around me, glistening in the firelight. One moment they were
a troop of Indians from the spirit-land, come to revisit again
the hunting-grounds of their fathers, and weeping because the
white man had desecrated their soil ; and again I fancied them
to be a congress of wild animals, assembled to try, execute,
and devour us, for the depredations our fellows had committed
upon their kind during the last one hundred years. By and by

'1/

186

THE CATSKILL MOUNTAINS.

Mi'J

fek^l

Ifc:

IHfcVUE|ll|||||IPa '

mt^

a star peeped out upon me from between the branches of a tree,
and my thoughts ascended heavenward. And now my eyes
twinkled and blinked in sympathy with the star, and I was a
dreamer.

An hour ^fter the witching time of night, I was startled
from my sleep by a bellowing halloo from Peter, who said it
was time to examine the lincj again. Had you heard the echoes
which were then awakened, far and near, you would have
thought yourself in enchanted land. But there were living
answers to that shout, for a frightened fox began to bark, au
owl commenced its horrible hooting, a partridge its drumming,
and a wolf its howl. There was not a breeze stirring, and

" Naught was seen in the vault on high

But the moon and the stars and a cloudless sky,
And a river of white in the welkin blue."

Peter and Yankee went out to haul in the trout, but I remained
on shore to attempt a drawing, by moonlight, of the lake before
me. The opposite side of the mountain, with its dark tangled
forests, was perfectly mirrored in the waters below, the whole
seeming as solid and variegated as a tablet of Egyptian marble.
The canoe with its inmates noiselessly pursued its way, making
the stillness more profound. In the water at my feet I dis-
tinctly saw lizards sporting about, and I could not but wonder
why such reptiles were ever created. I thought with the An-
cient Mariner,

•

" A thuusaad slimy things lived on,

And so did I."

Again did we retire to rest, slumbering until the break of
day. We then partook of a substantial trout breakfast, gathered
up our plunder, and with about one hundred handsome trout,
started for home.

The accidents we met with during the night were harmless,
though somewhat ridiculous. A paper of matches which Peter
carried in his breeches-pocket took fire, and gave him such a
Bcorchiag that he beUowed lustily ; — while Yankee, in his rest-

THE CATSEILL MOUNTAINS.

187

less slumbers, rolled so near our 'watchfire, that he barely
escaped with a comer of his blanket, the remainder having been
consumed. As for me I only fell into the water among the
lizards, while endeavoring to reach the end of a log which ex-
tended into the lake. In descending the mountain we shot three
partridges, and confoundedly frightened a fox, and by the
middle of tixe afternoon were quietly pursuing our several avo-
cations among our fellow men of the lower world.

! ' '*.«.^

vW:i'

A SPRING DAY.

May is near its close, and I am j-fcill in the valley of the
Hudson. Spring is indeed come again, and this, for the pre-
sent jenr, has heen its day of triumph. The moment I awoke,
at dawn, this morning, I knew hy intuition that it would he so,
and I bounded from my couch like a startled deer, impntient
for the cool delicious air. Spring is upon the earth once more,
and a new life is given me of enjoyment and hope. The year
is in its childhood, and 'sy heart clings to it with a sympathy
that I feel must be immortal and divine. What I have done
to-day I cannot tell. I only know that my body has been tre-
mulous with feeling, and my eyes almost blinded with seeing.
Every hour has been fraught with a new emotion of delight,
and presented to my vision numberless pictures of surpassing
beauty. I have held communion with the sky, the mountains,
the 'streams, the woods, and the fields ; and these, if you please,
shall be the themes of my present chapter.

The sky ! it has been of as deep an azure and as serene as
ever canopied the world. It seemed as if you could look through
it into the illimitable home of the angels — could almost behold
the glory which surrounds the Invisible. Three clouds alone
have attracted my attention. One was the offspring of the
dawn, and encircled by a rim of gold ; the next was the daugh-
ter of noon, and white as the driven snow, and the last, of
evening, and robed in deepest crimson. Wayward and coquet-
tish creatures were these clouds ! their chief ambition seemed
to be to display their charms to the best advantage, as if con-
scious of their loveliness ; and, at sunset, when the light lay

A SPRING DAY.

189

pillowed on the moantains, it was a joyoua sight to see them,
side hy side, like three sweet sisters, as they were, going home.
Each one was anxious to favor the world with its own last smile,
and by their changing places so often, you would have thought
they were all unwilling to depart. But they were the ministers
of the sun, and he would not tarry for them ; and while he
beckoned them to follow on, the evening star took his station in
the sky, and bade them depart ; and when I looked again, they
were gone. Never more, thought I, will those clouds be a
source of joy to a human heart. And in this respect, also, they
setmed to me to be the emblems of those beautiful but thought-
less maidens, who spend the flower of youth trifling with the
affections of all whom they have the power to fascinate.

The mountains! in honor of the season which has just clothc<l
them in the richest green, they have, this day, displayed every
one of their varied and interesting charms. At noon, as I lay
under the shadow of a tree, watching them. " with a look made of
all sweet acccrd," my face was freshened by a breeze. It ap-
peared to come from the summit of South Peak, and to be the
voice of the Gatskills. I listened, and these were the words
which echoed through my car.

" Of all the seasons, oh Spring ! thou art the most beloved,
and, to us, always the most welcome. Joy and gladness ever
attend thy coming, for we know that the ' winter is past, the
rains are over and gone, the time of the singing of bird^ is
come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.' And
we know, too, that from thy hands flow unnumbered blessings.
Thou softenest the earth, that the husbandman may sow his
seed, which shall yield him a hundred fold at the harvest.
Thou releasest the rivers from their icy fetters, that the wings
of commerce may bo unfurled once more. Thou givest food to
the cattle upon a thousand hills, that they, in their turn, may
furnish man with necessary food, and also assist him in his do-
mestic labors. Thou ooverest tho earth with a garniture of
freshest loveliness, that the senses of man may be gratified, and
his thoughts directed to Hjm who hath created all things, and
pronounced thorn good. And, finally, thou art tho hope of the

^1-^ ....

190

A SPRING DAT.

^mm

year, and thine admonitions, yrhicb are of the future, have a
tendency to emancipate the thoughts of men from this world,
and the troubles which may surround him here, and fix them
upon that clime Avhere an everlasting spring abides." " The
voice in my dreaming ear melted away," and I heard the roar-
ing of the streams, as they fretted their way down the rocky
steeps.

The streams ! such " trumpets" as they have blown to-day
would, I am afraid, have caused Mr. Wordsworth to exclaim :

" The cataracts — make a devilish noise up yonder!"

The fact is, " all the earth is gay," and all the springs among
the mountains are " giving themselves up to jollity," the streams
are full to overflowing, and rush along with a " vindictive loose-
ness," because of the burthen they have to bear. The falls
and cascades, which make such exquisite pictures in the summer
months, are now fearful to behold, for, in their anger, every
now and then they toss some giant tree into an abyss of foam,
which makes one tremble with fear. But after the sti*eams
have left the mountains, and are running through the bottom
lands, they still appear to be displeased with something, and at
every turn they take, delve into the " bowels of the harmless
earth," making it dangerous for the angler to approach too
near, but rendering the haunt of the trout more spacious and
commodious than before. The streams are about the only
things I cannot praise to-day, and I hope it will not rain for a
month to come, if this is the way they intend to act whenever
we have a number of delightful showers.

The woods ! A goodly portion of the day have I spent in
one of their most secret recesses. I went with Shakspeare un-
der my arm ; but I could not read any more than fly, so I
stretched myself at full length on a huge log, and kept a sharp
look-out for anything that might send rao a waking dream.
The brotherhood of trees clustered around me, laden with leaves
just bursting into full maturity, and possessing that delicate
and peculiar green which lasts but a single day, and never re-
turns. A fitful breeze swept through them, so that ever and
anon I fancied a gushing fountain to be near, or that a compa-

A SPRING DAT.

191.

ny of ladies fair were come to visit me, and that I heard the
rustle of their silken kirtles. And now my eyes rested on a
tree that was entirely leafless, and almost without a limb. In-
stead of grass at its foot, was a heap of dry leaves, and not a
bush or vine grew anywhere near it ; but around its neighbors
they grew in great abundance. It seemed branded with a
curse ; alone, forsaken of its own, and despised by all. Can
this, thought I, be an emblem of any human being ? Strange
that it should be, but it is nevertheless too true. Only one
week ago, I saw a poor miserable maniac, bound hand and foot,
driven from " home and all its treasures," and carried to a dark,
damp prison-house in a neighboring town. I can be reconciled
to the mystery af a poisonous reptile's existence; but it is very
hard to underp'.and for what good purpose a maniac is created.
Another object I noticed, was a little tree about five feet high,
completely covered with blossoms of a gaudy hue. At fust, I
tried to gather something poetical out of this thing, but with
all my endeavors I could not. It caused a smile, however,
lis the idea expanded, for it reminded me of a certain mai-
den lady of 'Tiy acquaintance, who is old, stunted, very fond
of tall men. and, always strutting among her fellows under a
weight 0? Jewelry. But oh ! what beautiful flowers did I notice
in that shady grove, whose whispering filled me with delight !
Their names? I cannot tell them to you, fair reader — they
ought not to have any names, — any more than a cloud, or a
foam-bell on the river. Some were ■ blue, some white, some
purple, and some scarlet. There were little parties of them on
every side, and as the wind swayed their delicate stems, I could
not but' fancy they were living creatures; the personified
thoughts, perhaps, of happy and innocent children. Occasion-
ally, too, I noticed a sort of straggler peeping at me from beside
a hillock of moss, or from under the branches of a fallen tree,
as if surprised at my temerity in entering its secluded haunt.
Birds, also, were around me in that green-wood sanctuary,
singing their hymns of praise to the Father of Mercies for the
return of spring. The nests of the females being already built,
they had nothing to do but be happy, anticipating the time
when they themselves should be the " dealers-out of some small

''uH^m

^Vv ^"'

•^\

Jk^--

.192

A SPRING DAT.

Vj'ti

, -I.l:. ;; til: : v: _ _ .

blessings" to their helpless broods. As to their mates, they
were about as independent, restless, and noisy as might be ex-
pected, very much as any rational man would be who was the
husband of a young and beautiful wife.

But the open fields to-day have supcrabounded with pictures
to please and instruct the mind. I know not where to begin
to describe them. Shall it be at the very threshold of our farm-
house ? "Well, then, only look at those lil:ic trees in the gar-
den, actually top-heavy with purple and white flowering pyra-
mids. The old farmer has just cut a number of largo branches,
and given them to his little daughter to carry to her mother,
who will distribute them between the mantlepiece, the table,
and the fire-place of the family sitting-room. But what am-
brosial odor is that which now salutes the senses ! It conies not
from the variegated corner of the garden, where the tulip, the
violet, the hyacinth, the bluebell and the lily of the valley arc
vying to outstrip each other in their attire ; nor from the clo-
ver-covered lawn, besprinkled with buttercups, strawberry
blossoms, and honeysuckles, but from the orchard, every one
of whose trees arc completely covered with snow-white blossoms.
And from their numberless petals emanates the murmur of bees
as they are busily extracting the precious honey. What an
abundance of fruit — of apples, cherries, peaches and pears, do
these sweet blossoms promise ! But next week there viai/ be a
bitter /rofit ; and this is the lesson which my heart learns. Now
that I am in the spring-time of life, my hopes, in number and
beauty, are like the blossoms of trees, and I know not but that
they may even on tlio movow be withered by the cliilly breatli
of the graw. But let us loiter farther on. The westrt-n slope
of this gentle hill is equally divided, and of two different shadc^s
of green ; one is planted with ryo and the other with wheat.
The eastern slope of the hill has lately been loosened by the
plough, and is of a sombre color, but to my eyes not less pleas-
ing than tho green. And this view is enlivened with figures
besides — for a farmer and two boys aro planting corn, tho lat-
ter opening the beds with their hoes and tho former dropping
in tho seed (which ho carries in a bag slung at his side,) and
covering it with his foot. And, now, fluttering over their

A SPRING DAT.

198

heads is a roguish bobolink, scolding about soifle thing in their
wahe ; at a respectful distance, and hopping along the ground,
are a number of robbins, and on the nearest fence a meadow-
lark and bluebird arc " holding on for a bite." But there is
no end to these rural pictures, so I will just take my reader
into this neighboring meadow-pasture, thence into the poultry-
yard at home, and conclude my present rhapsody.

Here we are, then, in the midst of various domestic animals.
Yonder a couple of black colts are chasing each other in play,
while their venerable mother (for they are brothers, though not
twins) is standing a little way off, watching their antics, and
twisting about her ears, as she remembers the happy days of
her own oolt-hood. Here are some half dozen hearty cows,
lying down and grazing, each one with a " pledge of affection"
sporting about her. There are six or eight oxen, eating away
as fast as they can, while one who seems to be a sentinel, occa-
sionally rolls up his eye to see if the farmer is coming to renew
his song of "haw! gee! gee! haw!" Under the shadows of
that old oak is ar flock of sheep, with their lambs bounding be-
side them, as to the *' tnbor's sound;" but to me there comes no
"thought of grief" at t'lo siglit, wiicrein I must be suffered to
dispgree with Wordsworth, to whom I have already alluded
oiice or twice, and whose celebrated Ode has been echoing in
my heart all the day long. Some of the lines in it arc appro-
priate to the day, the charms of which I am a tempting to make
you feel, reader, and you will oblige mo by conning and in-
wardly digesting the following fragments from a great po-ui: —

^ " Tl>o auiishino is a glorious birth."

" The winds come to rao from tho fields of sleep."

" And tho babe leaps up on its mother's nnn."

" Earth tills her lup with pleasures of her own."

" Full soon thy soul shall iiuvo her earthly freight,
And custom lie upon thee with a 'Weight
Heavy us tuie, aud deep almost as life."

£'\i

J;;? ■«•;.. '^ijj

194

A SPRING DAT.

"O joy, that in our embors
Is something that doth live,
That nature yet remembers
What was so fugitive."

" To me the meanest flower that blooms, can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."

Strange, that a man, after dwelling upon such poetry, ahould
be willing to go into a jtjoitftry yard. But why not? I would
rather do this willingly than be compelled, as I have been, and
may be again, to hear a man say, after reading to him Words-
worth's Ode, "Why! of what use ia such stuff? what does it
prove? will it furnish a man with Jread and butter? will it
make the pot boil?" The people of the poultry-yard have been
in such a glee to-day, and contributed so much to the gladness
of the day, that I must pay them a passing tribute. In the
first place, our old gobbler, with his retinue of turkey wives,
has been at the point of bursting with pride ever since sunrise.
If the Grand Sultan of Turkey, (who must bo the father of all
turkeys,) cuts the same kind of capers in the presence of his
hundred ladies, Turkey must be a great country for lean peo-
ple to " laugh and grow fat." Our gobbler is a feathered per-
sonification of Jack Falstaff, possessing his prominent trait of
cowardice to perfection. I fiourishcd a red handkerchief in
his face this morning, and, by the way ho strutted round
and gobbled, you would have thought he was going to devour
you. About ten minutes after this, 1 threw down a handful of
corn, which was intended for his particular palate. While he
was busy picking it up, a certain cock stepped alongside, and
commenced picking too. The intruder, having got in the way
of tho gobbler, was suddenly pushed aside; whereupon the
gentleman with spurs chuckled and "showed fight;" but the
gobbler for a moment heeded him not. This tho cock could
not bear, so ho pounced upon his enemy, and whipped hiru
without mercy, unlil tho coward and fool ran away, with his
long train of aifcctionato wives following 'behind.

Tho cooks, hens and ohiokona which have figured in tho yard

A SPRING DAT.

195

to-day, would more than number a hundred ; and such cackling,
crowing, chuckling, and crying as they have made, was any-
thing but a " concord of sweet sounds." But the creatures
have been happy, and it was therefore a pleasure to look at
them. A young hen, this morning, made her first appearance
with a large brood of chickens, yellow as gold, and this caused
quite a sensation among the feathered husbands generally.
The mother, as she rambled about, seemed to say, by her pom-
pous air, to her daughtcrless friends — " Ar'n't they beautiful ?
don't you wish you had a few ?" It was also very funny to see
with what looks of astonishment the youthful cocks surveyed
these " infant phenomenons." As to our ducks, and geese, and
guinea-hens, they have minded their business very well — the
two former paddling about the creek and mud-puddles, and the
latter, "between meals," roaming at largo through the orchard
and garden, altogether the most beautiful and rational of the
feathered tribes.

A mountaineer, who is to take this queer record to the post-
office, is waiting for mo below, and I must close, — hoping that
the country pictures I have endeavored to sketch, may have a
tendency to make you feel a portion of that joy which has cha-
racterized this delightful Spring Day.

if ^ '»•*-.

fhiSW''

h'r4-^^f*t

THE CORN PLANTING BEE.

The people who inhabit that section of country lying between
the Catskill Mountains and the Hudson River, are undoubtedly
the legitimate descendants of the far-famed Rip Van Winkle.
Dutch blood floweth in their veins, and their names, appearance,
manners, arc all Dutch, and Dutch only. The majority of them
are engaged in tilling the soil, and as they seem to be satisfied
with a bare competency,^ the peacefulness of their lives is only
equalled by their ignorance of books and the world at large.
The height of their ambition is to enjoy a frolic, and what
civilized people understand by that term, they designate a Bee,
Not only have they their weeding and funeral boes, but they
commemorate their agricultural labors with a bee, and of these
the corn planting bee, which I am about to describe, is a spe-
cimen.

A certain old Dutchman f my acquaintance had so long
neglected the field where ho intended to plant his corn, that he
found it necessary to retrieve his reputation by getting up a
bee. He therefore immediately issued his Invitations, and at
two o'clock on the appointed day, about seventy of his neigh-
bors, including men and Avomen, made their appearance at his
dwelling, cacli one of them furnished with a hoe and a small
bag to carry the seed. After supplying hia guests with all they
wanted in the way of spiritual drink, my friend gave the signal,
and shouldering a largo hoe, started off for the field of action,
closely followed by his neighbors, who feU to work quite lustily.
Tho field was larj^o, but as the laborers "vero numerous, it was
entirely planted at least two hours before sunset, when tho

THE CORN PLANTING BEE.

197

party was disbanded, with the express understanding resting
upon their minds that "they should invite their children to the
dance, which was to take place in the evening at the bee-giver's
residence.

The house of my farmer friend having been originally built
for a tavern, it happened to contain a large ball-room, and on
this occasion it was stripped of its beds {ind bedding, and the
walls thereof decked from top to bottom with green br<anches
and an occasional tallow candle, and conspicuous at one end of
the hall was a refreshment establishment, well supplied with
pies, gingerbread, molasses candy and segars, and with an
abundance of colored aloolioh. The number of young men and
women who came together on this occasion was about one hun-
dred, and while they were trimming for the approaching dance,
the musician, a long-legged, huge and bony Dutcliran, was
tuning a rust}' fiddle. The thirty minutes occupied by him in
this interesting uusiness wera employed by the male portion of
the guests in " wetting their whistles." The dresses worn on
this occasion were eminently rustic and unique. There ^-f the
gentlemen, for the most part, were made of coarse gray cloth,
eirailar to that worn by the residents on Blackwell's Island,
while the ladies were arrayed in white cotton dresses, trimmed
with scarlet ribbon. Pumps being out of vogue, cowhide boots
were worn by the former and calf brogans by the latter.

All things being now ready, a terribly loud screech came
from the poor little fiddle, and the clattering of heels ccm-
menccd, shaking the building to its very foundation. " On with
the dance, let joy bo unconfined," seem"' to be the motto of
all present, and from the start, there seemed to bo a strife be-
tween the male and female dancers as to who should leap the
highest and make tho most noise. Desperate were the efforl
of the musician, as ho toiled away upon his instrument, keep-
ing discord \s\i\\ his heels; and every unusual wail of the fiddle
was the forerunner of a shower of sweat, which camo rolling
off the fiddler's faco to tho floor. And then tho joyous delirium
of the musician was communicated to tho dancers, and as tho
dance proceeded, thoir eflbrbs became still more desperate ; the

198

THE CORN PLANTINO BEE.

mnm

women •wildly threw '^ack their hair, and many of the men took
off their coats, and rolled up their shirt sleeves, for the purpose
of keeping cool. In spite of every effort, however, the faces
of the dancers became quite red with the rare excitement, and
the hall was filled with a kind of heated fog, in which the first
•' breakdown" of the evening concluded.

Then followed the refreshment scene. The men drank whisky
and smoked segars, while the women feasted on mince pies,
drank small beer, and , sucked molasses candy. Some of the
smaller men or boys, who were too lazy to dance, saoaked ofiF
into an out-of-the-way room, for tho purpose of pitching pen-
nies, while a few couples, who were victims to the tender pas-
sion, retired to some coscy nook to bask unobserved in each
other's smiles.

But now the screeching fiddle is again heard above the mur-
mur of talking and laughing voices, and another rush is made
for the sanded floor. Another dance is then enjoyed, differing
from the one already described only in its increased extrava-
gance. After sawing away for a long time, as if for dear life,
the musician is politely requested to play a new tune. Promptly
do'es he assent to the proposition ; but having started on a fresh
key, he soon falls into the identical strain which had kept him
busy for the previous hour ; so that the philosophic listener id
compched to conclude either that tho fiddler ciiunot play more
than one tune, or that he has a particular passion for the mon-
otonous and nameless one to which ho so cloi-ely clings. And
thus with many indescribable variations does the ball continue
throi ghout the entire night.

I cid not venture to trip tho "light fantastic toe" on the oc-
casior. in question, but my enjoyment as a calm spectator was
very anusing and decidedly original. Never before had I seen
a great ^r amount of labor performed by men and women in tho
same time. I left this interesting assembly about midnight,
fully satisfied with what I had seen and heard, but I was after-
wards told that I missed more than " half tho fun."

When the music was loudest, so it appc irs, and tho frenzy
of tho dance at its climax, a select party of Dutch gentlemen

fS^*^W»-^»l.n^.'

THE CORN PLANTING BBB.

199

were sudc.enly seized with an appetite for some more substan-
tial food than any that had yet been given them. They held a
consultation on the important subject, and finally agreed to
ransack the garret and cellar of their host for the purpose of
satisfying their natural desires. In the former place they found
a good supply of dried beef, and in the latter, a few loaves of
bread and a jar of rich cream, upon which they regaled them-
selves without favor, but with some fear. The giver of the bee
subsequently discovered what had been done, and though some-
what more than " three sheets in the wind," slyly sent for a
pair of constables, who soon made their appearance, and ar-
rested the thieving guests, who were held to bail in the sum of
fifty dollars each. I was also informed that the dance was kept
up until six o'clock in the morning, and that the appearance of
my friend's establishment and the condition of his guests at
seven o'clock were ridiculous in the extreme. A jmall propor-
tion of the bee-party only had succeeded in starting for home,
80 that the number who from excess of drinking and undue
fatigue had retired to repose, was not far from three score and
ten. The sleeping accommodations of the host were limited,
and the consequence was that his guests had to shift for them-
selves as they best coi'ld. The floors of every room in the
house, including the partries, were literally covered with men
and women, — some of them moaning with a severe headache,
some breathing audibly ii\ a deep sleep, and others snoring in
tho loudest and most approved style. By twelve o'clock the
interesting company had stolen off to their several homes, and
the corn planting bee, among the Catskills, was at an end.

M-^

»';^^::%,jas*

LAKE IIORICON.

IS somew

m.m

B-'h:!)^

ll^W^'

ipl'

:imB^:

If circumstances alone could make one poetical, then might
you expect from mo, on tliis occasion, a paper of rare excel-
lence and beauty. My sketch-book is my desk ; my canopy
from the sunshine, an elm tree ; the carpet under my feet, a
rich green sprinkled with flowers; the music in my car of sing-
ing birds ; and the prospect before me, north, east, and south,
the tranquil bosom of Lake George, with its islands and sur-
rounding mountains ; whoso waters, directly at my side, are
alive with many kinds of fish, sporting together on a bed of
sand. Yes, the far-famed Lake George is my subject ; but in
what I write, I shall not use that title, — for I do not like the
idea of christening what belongs to ns with the name of an
English monarch, however much his memory deserves to be re-
spected. Shall it be Lake St. Sacrament, then ? No ! for that
was given to it by the Pope, and the French nation. Horicon
— a musical and appropriate Avord, meaning pure water, and
given to it by the poor Indian — is the name which rightfully
belongs to the lako which is now my theme.

Lake Iloricon is one of the few objects in Nature which did
not disappoint me after reading the descriptions of travellers.
I verily believe that, in point of mere beauty, it hi'.s not its
superior in the world. Its length is thirty-four miles, and its
width from two to four. Its islands number about three hun-
dred, and vary from ten feet to a mile in length ; — a great
many of them are located in the centre of the lake, Vt a place
called the Narrows. It is completely surrounded with moun-
tains ; the most prominent of whioh are, Black Mountaio, ou

LAKE HORICON.

201

the east of the Narrows, Tongue Mountain, directly opposite,
and French Mountain, at the southern extremity. The first is
the most lofty, and remarkable for its wildness, and the superb
prospect therefrom ; the second is also wild and uninhabited,
but distinguished for its dens of rattlesnakes ; and the latter
is somewhat cultivatec, but memorable for having been the
camping-ground of the French during the Revolutionary War.
The whole eastern border is yet a comparative wilderness ; but
along the western shore are some respectable farms, and a good
coach-road from Caldwell to Ticonderoga, which affords many
admirable views of the sky-blue lake. There are three public
houses here which I can recommend : the Lake House, for those
who are fond of elegance and company — Lyman's Tavern, for
the hunter of scenery and lover of quiet — and Garucld's House,
for the fisherman. A nice little sfoamboat, commanded by a
gentleman, passes through every morning and evening, (except-
ing Sundays,) and though a convenient affair to the traveller, it
is an eyesore to the admirer of the wilderness. Identified with
this boat is an eccentric and amiable man, named Old Dick, who
amuses the tourist, and collects an occasional shilling by exhibit-
ing a number of rattlesnakes. When, in addition to all these
things, it is remembered that Horicon is the centre of a region
made classic by the exploits of civilized and savage warfare, it
can safely be pronounced one of the most interesting portions
of our country for the summer tourist to visit. I have looked
upon it from many a peak whence might be seen almost every
rood of its shore. I have sailed into every one of its bays,
and, like the pearl-diver, have repeatedly descended into its
cold blue chambers, so that I have learned to love it as a faith-
ful and well-tried friend. Since tlie day of my arrival here, I
have kept a journal of iny adventures, and, as a momorial of
Horicon, I will extract therefrom, and embody in this chapter
the following passages.

Six pencil sketches have I executed upon the lake to-day.
One of them wiis a view of the distant mountains, the various
outlines of which vrere ooncontrated at one point, and the color

202

LAHE HORICON.

was of that delicate, dreamy blue, created by a snnlight at-
mosphere, with the sun directly in front. In the middle dis-
tance was a flock of islands, with a sail-boat in their midst, and
in the foreground a cluster of rocks, surmounted by a single
cedar, which appeared like the sentinel of a fortress. Another
sketch was of the ruins of Fort George, with a background of
dark-green mountains, made quite desolate by a flock of sheep
sleeping in one of its shady moats. Another was of a rowing-race
between two rival fishermen, at the time when they were only
a doaen rods from the goal, and when every nerve of their
aged frames ^ '»? strained to the utmost. Another was of a
neat log-cabin, on a quiet lawn near the water, at whose
threshold a couple of ragged, but beautiful children were play-
ing with a large dog, while from the chimney of the house
ascended the blue smoke with unnumbered fantastic evolutions.
Another was of a huge pine tree, which towered conspicuously
above its kindred on the mountain side, and« seeme*' to me an
appropriate symbol of Webster in the midst of a vast concourse
of his fellow-men. And the last was of a thunder-storm, driven
away from the mountain-top by the mild radiance of a rainbow,
which partly encircled Horicon in a loving embrace.

I have been fishing to-day, and, while enduring some poor
sport, indited in my mind the following information, for the
benefit of my piscatorial friends. The days of trout-fishing in
Lake Horicon are nearly at an end. A few years ago, it
abounded in salmon-trout, which were frequently caught weigh-
ing twenty pounds. But their average weight, at the present
time, is not more than one pound and a half, and they are
scarce even at that. In taking them, you first have to obtain
a sufficient quantity of sapling-bark to reach the bottom in
sixty feet of water, to one end of which must bo fastened a
stone, and to the other a stick of wood, which designates your
fishing-ground and is called a buoy. A variety of more com-
mon fish are then caught, such as suckers, perch, and eels,
which are cut up and deposited, some half peck at a time, in
the vicinity of the buoy. In a few days the trout will begin to

m ,

LAKE nORICON.

208

assemble, and so long as you keep them well fed, a brace of
them may be captured at any time during the summer. But
the fact is, this is only another way for " paying too dear for
the whistle." The best angling, after all, is for the common
brook trout, which is a bolder biting fish, and better for the
tabic than the salmon trout. The cause of the great decrease
in the large troi't of this lake, is this : — in tho autumn, when
they have sought tho shores for the purpose of spawning, the
neighboring barbarians have been accustomed to spear them by
torch-light ; and if tho heartless business do<^s not soon cease,
the result will be, that in a few years they will be extinct.
There are two other kinds of trout in the lake, however, which
yet afford good sport, — the silver trout, caught in the summer,
and tho fall trout. But the black bass, upon the whole, is now
mostly valued by the fisherman. They arc in their prime in
the summer months. They vary from one to five pounds in
weight ; are taken by trolling, and with a drop-line, and afford
fine sport. Their haunts arc along the rocky shores, and it is
often the case, that on a still day you may see them from your
boat, swimming about in herds where the water is twenty feet
deep. They have a queer fashion, when hooked, of leaping
out of the water, for the purpose of getting clear, and it is sel-
dom that a novice in the gentle art can keep them from suc-
ceeding. But, alas ! their numbers also are fast diminishing,
by the same means and the same hands that have killed the
trout. My advice to those who come here exclusively for the
purpose of fishing is, to continue their journey to the sources
of the Hudson, Scaroon Lake, Long Lake, and Lake Pleasant ;
in whose several waters there seems to be no end to every va-
riety of trout, and whore may bo found much wild and beauti-
ful scenery. The angler of the present day will be disappointed
in Lake Iloricon.

When issuing from the Narrows, on your way down the
Horicon, the most attractive object, next to the mountains, is
a strip of low, sandy land, extending into the lake, called Sab-
bath-day Point. It was so christened by Abercrombie, who

i- ml

WW' '

\k\m

rw\^.

]m^

T i^l^t*'

£;t;it'-*i'^'f"' ■'.

■mi''-

204

LAKE HORICON.

encamped and spent the Sabbath there, when on his iray to
Ticonderoga, where he was so sadly defeated. I look upon it
as one of the most enchanting places in the world ; but the
pageant with which it is associated was not only enchanting
and beautiful, but magnificent. Only look upon the picture.
It is the sunset hour, and before us, far up in the upper air,
and companion of the evening star, and a host of glowing
clouds, rises the majestic form of Black Mountain, enveloped
in a mantle of rosy atmosphere. The bosom of the lake is
without a ripple, and every cliff, ravine, and island has its
counterpart in the pure waters. A blast of martial music from
drums, fifes, bagpipes, and bugle horns now falls upon the ear,
and the immense procession comes in sight ; one thousand and
thirty-five battcaux, containing an army of seventeen thousand
souls, headed by the brave Abcrcrombic and the red cross of
England, — the scarlet uniforms and glistening bayonets form-
ing a line of light against the darker background of the moun-
tain. And behind a log in the foreground is a crouching Indian
runner, who, with the speed of a hawk, will carry the tidings
to the French nation, that an army is coming — " numerous as
the leaves upon the trees." Far from the strange scene fly the
affrighted denizens of mountain and wave, — while thousands of
human hearts are beating happily at the prospect of victory,
whose bodies in a few hours, will be food for the raven on the
plains of Ticonderoga.

A goodly portion of tliis day have I been musing upon the
olden times, while rambling about Fort George, and Fort Wil-
liam Henry. Long and with peculiar interest did I linger about
the spot near the latter, where were cruelly massacred the fol-
lowers of Monroe, at whlcli time Montcalm linked his name to
the title of a heartless Frenchman, and the name of Webb be-
came identified with all that is justly despised by the human
heart. I profess myself to be an enemy to wrong and outrage
of every kind, and yet a lover and defender of the Indian race;
but when I picked up one after another the flinty heads of ar-
rows, which were mementoes of an awful butchery, my spirit

LAKE HORICON.

205

revolted against the red man, and for a moment I felt a desire
to condemn him. Yes, I will condemn that particular band of
murderers, but I cannot but defend the race. Cruel and treach-
erous they were, I will allow, but do we not forget the treat-
ment they ever met with from the white man? The most
righteous of battles have ever been fought for the sake of sires
and wives and children, and for what else did the poor Indian
fight, when driven from the home of his youth into an unknown
wilderness, to become thereafter a by-word and a reproach
among the nations ? " Indians," said we, " we would have your
lands, and if you will not bo satisfied with tho gewgaws we
proffer, our powder and balls will teach you that power is but
another name for right." And this is the principle that has
guided the white man ever since in his warfare against the abo-
rigines- of our tT'intry. I cannot believe that we shall ever be
a happy and prosperous people until the King of kings shall
have forgiven us for having, with a yoke of tyranny, almost
annihilated an hundred nations.

A portion of this afternoon I whilcd away on a little island,
which attracted my attention by its charming variety of foliage.
It is not more than one hundred feet across at the widest part,
and is encircled by a yellow sand-bank, and shielded by a regi-
ment of variegated rocks. But what could I find there to in-
terest me, it may be inquired. This island, hidden in one of
the bays of Iloricon, is an insect city, and more populous than
was Rome in the days of her glory. There tho honey-bee has
his oaken tower, the wasp and humble-bee their grassy nests,
the spiacr his den, the butterfly his hammock, the grasshopper
his domain, tho beetle and cricket and hornet their decayed
stump, and the toiling ant her palace of sand. There they
were born, there they flourish and multiply, and there they die,
symbolizing the career and destiny of man. I was a " distin-
guished stranger" in that city, and I must confess that it grati-
fied my ambition to be welcomed with such manifestations of
regard as tho inhabitants thought proper to bestow. My ap-
proach was heralded by the song of a kingly bee ; and when I

''■■■1

i- 1)

|y|i^i.H*fR||

fF^'^^'^siM..

v.'.i'U,,^ ■(

t*.*i-Ljj^

1 iiff^S^-

fep

mML

hIi^^

J (;,. ,i-->HiP

,, , JMl w >

1 tt in^

It ,,*1^ 1!

I'l 'I'w' t" . !if Jff.MKl™ ' ' •

,.!.'; j V ]i^ju|ij^^9

i|yj|^^^H|il

s^MS^^B

lljMi^m

^amsii t •■-'. 1

?wxf ll^^P

>vSi!^mii

' ^ v^ - ^^^sHa-nBBP

\ '/^ \|^\f^^yB^''

'^'iw^^

^j^i^^Htlmk

tC'Sv^E

,^; ' jl'^aHyKff;

l^i^f t^mSSr^KnV" '-

'''/ cSiHHiws'W^'^

,ii**fipp||^

ff^

';!

206

LAKE HORICON.

had thrown myself upon a moBsy hank, multitudes of people
gathered round, and, with their eyes intently fixed upon mc,
stood still, and " expressive silence mused their praise." To the
"natives," I was emphatically a source of astonishment, and as
I wished to gather instruction from the incident, I wondered in
my heart whether I would be a happier man if my presence in
a human city should create a kindred excitement. At any rate,
it would be a " great excitement on a small capital."

While quietly eating my dinner this noon, in the shady recess
of an island near Black Mountain, I was startled by the yell of
a pack of hounds coming down one of its ravines. I know
that the chase was after a deer, so I waited with anxiety for his
appearance, and five minutes had hardly elapsed before I dis-
covered a noble buck at bay on the summit of a bluff which
extended into the lake. There wore five dogs yelping about
him, but the " antlcrcd monarch" fought them like a hero.
His hoof was the most dangerous weapon he could wield, and
it seemed to mc that the earth actually trembled every time
that ho struck at his enemies. Presently, to my delight, one
of the hounds was killed, and another so disabled that he re-
tired from the contest. But the hunters made their appear-
ance, and I know that the scene would soon come to a tragic
close, and when the buck beheld them, I could almost believe
that over his face a " tablet of agonizing thoughts was traced,"
for ho fell upon his knees, then made a sudden wheel, and witli
a frightful bound, as a ball passed through his heart, cleared
the rock and fell into tho lake below. The waters closed over
him, and methought that the waves nf Iloriconj and tho loaves
of tho forest murmured a requiem above tho grave of tho wil-
derness king. I turned away, and partly resolved that I would
never again have a dog for my friend, or respect the character
of a hunter ; but then I looked into tho cryotal waters of the
lake, and thought of tho hmm in my own eye, and atood con-
victed of a kindred cruelty.

One of the moat singular procipioes overlooking Horioon is

LAKE HORIOON.

207

about five miles from the outlet, and known as Rogers' Slide.
It is some four hundred feet high, and at one point not a fissure
or sprig can be discovered to mar the polished surface of the
rock till it reaches the water. Once on a time in the winter,
the said Rogers was pursued by a band of Indians to this spot,
when, after throwing down his knapsack, he carefully retraced
the steps of his snow-shoes for a short distance, and descending
the hill by a circuitous route, continued his course across the
frozen lake. The Indians, on coming to the jumping-ofi* place,
discovered their enemy on the icy plain ; but when they saw
the neglected knapsack below, and no signs of returning foot-
steps where they stood, they thought the devil was in the man,
and gave up the pursuit.

fJ;i.'^

The most famous, and one of the most beautiful islands in
this lake, is Diamond Island, so called from the fact that it
abounds in crystalized quartz. It is half a mile in length, but
the last place which would be thought of as the scene of a battle.
It is memorable for the attack made by the Americans on the
British, who had a garrison there during the Revolution. The
American detachment was commanded by Colonel Brown, and
being elated with his recent triumphs on Lake Champlain, he
resolved to attack Diamond J ihd. The battle was bloody,
and tho British fought like brave men, "long and well;" the
Atpericans weie defeated, and this misfortune was followed 1 ,,
the Bufferings of a itiost painful retreat over the almost impas-
sable mountains between the Lake and what is now Whitehall.
While wandering about tho island it was a difBcult matter for
mo to realize that it had over resounded with the roar of can-
non, the dismal wail of war, and the shout of victory. The
spot is now covered with woods, whose shadowy groves are the
abode of a thousand birds, forever singing a song of peace or
love, as if to condemn the ambition and cruelty of man.

In the vicinity of French Mountain is an island celebrated
as the burial-place of a rattlesnake hunter, named Belden.
From »U that I can learn, he must have been a strange mortal

>v:m

li^f

208

LAKE HORICON.

i^:'r

indeed. His birth-place an.l early history were alike unknovrD.
When he first made his appearance at this lake, his only com-
panions were a brotherhood of rattlesnakes, by exhibiting which
he professed to have obtained his living ; and it is said that,
during the remainder of his life, he acquired a handsome sum
of money by selling the oil and gall of his favorite reptile.
And I have recently been told that the present market price of
a fat snake, when dead, is not less than half a dollar. Another
mode peculiar to old Belden for making money, was to suffer
himself to bo bitten, at some tavern, after which he would re-
turn to his cabin to apply the remedy, when he would come
forth again just as good as new. But ho was not always to be
a solemn trifler. For a week had tlie old man been missing,
and on a pleasant Ay^ust morning, his boUy was found on tiiC'
island alluded to, sadly mutilated and bioated, and it was cer-
tain that he had died actually surrounded with rattlesnakes.
His death-bed became his grave, and rattlesnakes weic his only
watchers ; thus ended the story of his life.

But this reminds me of two little adventures. The other day,
as I was seated near the edge of a sand-bar, near the mouth of
a brook, sketching a group of trees and a sunset cloud be-
yond*, I was startled by an immense black snake, that landed
at my side, and pursued its way directly under ray legs, upon
which my drawing-book was resting. Owing to my perfect
silence, the creature had probably looked upon me as a mere
stump. But what was my surprise, a few minutes after, when
rc-scatcd in the same place, to find another snake, and that u
large spotted adder, passing along tho same track the former
had pursued. Tho first fright had almost disabled mo from
using tho pencil, but when tho second came, I gave a lusty yell,
and forgetful of tho fino arts, started for home on tho keen run.

At another time, when returning from a fishing excursion,
in a boat, accompanied by a couplo of " green-horns," wo dis-
covered on tho water, near Tongue Mountain, an immense rat-
tlesnake, with his head turned towards us. As tho oarsman in
the bow of tho boat struck at him with his oar, tho snako coiled
round it, and the fool was in tho very act of dropping the devil-

LAKE HORICON.

209

isli thing in my lap. I had heard the creature rattlr and not
knowing what I did, as he hung suspended over me, overhoard
I went, and did not look behind until I had reached the land.
The consequence was, that for one while I was perfectly dis-
gusted even with Lake Horicon, and resolved to leave it without
delay. The snake was killed without doing any harm, however,
but such a blowing up as I gave the green-horn actually made
his hair stand straight with fear.

One more snake storyj and I will conclude : On the north
side of Black Mountain is a cluster o^ some half dozen houses,
in a vale, which spot is called the Bosom, but from what cause
I do hot know. The presiding geniuses of the place are a band
of girls, weighing two hundred pounds apiece, who farm it with
their fathers for a living, but whose principal amusement is rat-
tlesnake hunting. Their favorite play-ground is the notorious
cliff on Tongue Mountain, where they go with naked feet (row-
ing their o^n boats across the lake,) and pull out by their tails
from the rocks the pretty playthings, and, snapping them to
death, they lay them away in a basket as trophies of their skill.
I was told that in one day last year they killed the incredible
number of eleven hundred. \\ hat delicious wives would these
Horicon ladies make. Since the Florida Indians have been
driven from their country by blood-hounds, would it not be a
good idea for Congress to secure the services of these amazons
for the purpose of exterminating the rattlesnakes upon our
mountains ? This latter movement would be the most ridicu-
lous, but the inhumanity of the former is without a parallel.

A clear and tranquil summer night, and I am alone on tho
pebbly beach of this paragon of lakes. Tho countless hosts
of heaven are beaming upon me with a silent joy, and more
impressive and holy than a poet's dream are the surrounding
mountains, as they stand reflected in the unruffled waters.
Listen ! what sound is that bo like tho wail of a spirit ? Only
a loon, the lonely night-watcher of Horicon, whoso melancholy
moan, as it breaks the profound Rcillness, carries my fancy back
to tho olden Indian times, ere the white man had crossed the
14

^m^i'*^,

m ^^liiiJinl^

ksiS^Ej

lll^pt

|TOi-..-Si|

ipi

121

210

LAKE HORICON.

ocean. All these mountains and this beautiful lake were then
the heritage of a brave and noble-hearted people, who made
war only upon the denizens of the forest, whose lives were
peaceful as a dream, and whose manly forms, decorated with
the plumes of the eagle, the feathers of the scarlet bird, and the
robe of the bounding stag, tended but to make the scenery of
the wilderness beautiful as an earthly Eden. Here was the
quiet wigwfjn village, and there the secluded aboae of the
t ioughtful chief. Here, unmolested, the Indian child played
with the spotted fawn, and the " Indian lover wooed his dusky
mate;" here the Indian hunter, in the ''sunset of his life"
watched with holy awe the sunset in i.he west, and here the
ancient Indian prophetess sung her uncouth but religious chant.
Gone — ail, all gone — and the desolate creature of the waves,
now pealing forth another wail, seems the only memorial that
they have left behind. There — my recent aspirations are all
quellod, I can walk no further to night; — there is a sadnesy in
my Roul, and I must seek my home. It is such a blessed nigh!;,
it seems almost sinful that a blight should rest on the spirit of
man ; yet on mine a gloom will sonietimec fall, nor can I tell
whence the cloud that makes mo sad.

?..v

EmPTYIN(

of Glenn's ]
East Branc
River.* It
a clear, cold
country, ani
which it run
frown upon
The valley <
and as I ha
week, I will
The most
Lake, throu
It is ten mi
ccpting a lii
the southeri
of mountair
supplied wil
most valual
George, bui
in the autui
desperate e
cess, thougl

* The won
meaning of v
ally namod b

mm*

* The word Sohroon is bad EngHsh for the Indian word Scaroon, the
meaning of which is — "child of the mountaitu." Tlio river was origin-
ally named by an Algonquin chief after a favorite daughter.

mym

THE SCAROON COUNTRY.

Emptying into the Hudson River, about fifteen miles north
of Glenn's Falls, is quite a large stream, sometimes called the-
East Branch of the Hudson, but generally known as Scroon
River.* Its extreme length is not far from fifty miles. It is
a clear, cold, and rapid stream, winds through a mountainous
country, and has rather a deep channel. The valley through
which it runs is somewhat cultivated, but the mountains which
frown upon it on cither side, are coverfed with dense forests.
The valley of the Scaroon abounds'in beautiful lakes and brooks ;
and as I have explored them pretty thoroughly during the past
week, I will now record the result of my observations.

The most prominent pictorial feature of this region is Scaroon
Lake, through which the river of that name forms a channel.
It is ten miles in length and averages about one in vridth. Ex-
cepting a little hamlet at its head, and two or three farms at
the southern extremity, it is yet surrounded with a wilderness
of mountains. The v;atera thereof are deep and clear, and well
supplied with fish, of which the salmon-trout and pike are the
most valuable. The trout arc more abundant hero than in Lake
George, but owing to the prevailing custom of spearing them
in the autumn, they are rapidly becoming extinct. I made a
desperate cfibrt to capture one as a specimen, but without suc-
cess, though I was told that they varied in weight from ten to

fe£?iiS

i;::,.?Si

212

THE SCAROON fcOUNTRY.

■ hY)

^dk

v,U':-'^Tli''*l

fifteen pounds. My efforts, however, in taking pike were more
encouraging. But before giving my experience, I must men-
tion an interesting fact in natural history. Previous to the
year 1840, Scaroon Lake was not known to contain a single
pike, but during that year, some half dozen males and females
were brought from Lake Champlain and deposited therein, since
which time they have multiplied so rapidly as to be quite abun-
dant, not only in Scaroon Lake, but in all the neighboring
waters, and as they are frequently taken weighing some twenty
pounds, the fact seems to be established that this fish grows
quite rapidly, and is not of slow growth, as many naturalists
have supposed.

But to my pike story. A number of lumbermen were going
out for the purpose of taking pike by torch-light, and I was
fortunate enough to secure a seat in one of the three flat boats
which contained the fishermen. It was a superb night, and the
lake was without a ripple. Our torches were made of "fat
pine," PL- it is here called, and my polite friends t^ing it for
granted that I was a novice in the spearing business, they cun-
ningly awarded me the dullest spear in their possession, ard
gave me the poorest position in the boat. I said nothing to all
this, but inwardly resolved that I would give them a salutary
lesson, if possible^ I fished from nine until twelve o'clock, and
then left my friends to continue the sport. The entire number
of pike taken, as I found out in the morning, was thirteen, and
as fortune would have it, four of this number were captured by
myself, in spite of my poor spear. I did not take the largest
fish, which weighed eighteen pounds, but the greatest number,
with which success I was satisfied. The effect of my good luck
was unexpected to my companions, but gratifying to nje, for
there was afterwards a strife between them as to who should
show me the most attention in the way of piloting me about the
country. This little adventure taught me the importance of
understanding even the vagabond ar* of spearing.

The event of that night, however, which afforded me the
purest ^enjoyment, was the witnessing of a moonlight scene,
immediately after leaving the lake shore for the inn, where I

mn 'J

THE SCAROON COUNIRT.

213

was tarrying. Before me, in wild and solemn beauty, lay the
southern portion of the Scaroon, on whose bosom were gliding
the spearmen, holding high above their heads their huge torches,
which throv a spectral glare, not only upon the water, but upon
the swarthy forms watching for their prey. Just at this mo-
ment, an immense cloud of fog broke away, and directly above
the summit of tho op^iosite mountain, the clear, full moon made
its appearance, and a thousand fantastic figures, born of the
fog, were pictured in the sky, and appeared extremely 'brilliant
under the eflFulgence of the ruling planet ; while the zenith of
jky ws,<j of a deep blue, cloudless, but completely spangled with
sttirs. And what greatly added to the magic of the scene, was
the dismal scream of a loon, which came to my ear from a re-
mote portion of the lake, yet covered with a heavy fog.

Rising from the western margin of Scaroon Lake, is quite a
lofty mountain, which was once painted by Thomas Cole, and
by him namo'l Scaroon Mountain. There is notbing particu-
larly imposing about it, but it commands an uncommonly fine
prospect of the surrounding country. When I first came *in
sight of this mountain, it struck me as an old acquaintance, and
I reigned in my horse for the purpose of investigating its fea-
tures. Before I resumed my course, I concluded that I was
standing on the very spot whence the artist had taken his ori-
ginal sketch of the scene, by which circumstance I was con-
vinced of the fidelity of his pencil.

Tho largest island in Scaroon Lake, lies near the northern
extremity, and studs the water like an emerald on a field of
blue. It was purchased, some years ago, by a gentleman of
New York, who has built a summer residence upon it, for the
accommodation of himself and friends.

Emptying into tho Scaroon River, just below tho lake, is a
superb mountain stream, known as Trout Brook. It is thirty
feet wide, twelve miles long, and comes rushing down the moun-
tains, forming a hundred waterfalls and pools, and filling its
narrow valley with perpetual music. Not only is it distin-
tinguished for the quality and number of its trout, but it pos-
sesses one attraction which will pay the tourist for the weary

214

THE SCAROON COUNTRY.

iftlplSH

>|,;'Kj^m

DV^ftm^^SIRI

^^^

'Vf^

'■'^L-Jmam

s9|

.^'■V >?{llKC!l BM

ISi>'»»^*''li:l'n;; ■

tramp lie must undergo to explore its remote recesses. I allude
to what the people about here call "the Stone Bridge." At
this point, the wild and dashing stream has formed a channel
directly through the solid mountains, so that, in fishing down,
the angler suddenly finds himself standing upon a pile of dry
stones. The extent of this natural bridge is not more than
twenty or, perhaps, thirty feet, but the wonder is, that the un-
seen channel is sufiiciently large to admit the passage of the
largest logs which the lumbermen float down the stream. I
might also add, that at the foot of this bridge is one of the
finest pools imaginable. It is, perhaps, one hundred feet long,
and so very deep that the clear water appears quite black.
This is the finest spot in the whole brook for trout, and my
luck there may be described as follows : I had basketed no less
than nine half-pounders, when my fly was suddenly seized,
and my snell snapped in twain by the fierceness of another.
The consequence of that defeat was, that I resolved to capture
the trout, if I had to remain there all night. I then ransacked
the mountain side for a living bait, and, with the aid of my
companion, succeeded in capturing a small mouse, and just as
the twilight was coming on, I tied the little fellow to my hook,
and threw him on the water. He swam across in fine style,
but when he reached the centre of the pool, a largo trout leaped
completely out of his element, and in descending, seized the
mouse, and the result was, that I broke my rod, but caught
the trout, and though the mouse was seriously injured, I had
the pleasure of again giving him his liberty.

The largest trout that I killed weighed nearly a pound, and
though he was the cause of my receiving a ducking, he afforded
me some sport, and gave me a new idea. When I first hooked
him, I stood on the very margin of the stream, knee deep in a
bog, and just as I was about to basket him, ho gave a sudden
leap, cleared himself, and fell into the water. Quick as thought
I made an effort to rescue him, but in doing so, lost my balance,
and was playing the part of a turtle in a tub of water. I then
became poetical, and thought it " would never do to giv' it up
90," and after waiting some fifteen minutes, I returned and tried

THK SOABOON COUNTRT.

215

for the loat trout again. I threw my fly some twenty feet
ahove the place where I had tumbled in, and recaptured the
identical fiah which I had lost. I recognized him by his having
a torn and bleeding mouth. This circumstance convinced me
that trout, like many of the sons of men, have short memories,
and also that the individual in question was a perfect Richelieu
or General Taylor in his wr.y, for he seemed to know no such
word as fail. As to the trout that I did not capture, I verily
believe that he must have weighed two pounds ; but as he was,
probably, a superstitious gentleman, he thought it the better
part of valor, somewhat like Santa Anna, to treat the steel of
his enemy with contempt.

The brook of which I have been speaking, is only twenty-
five miles from Lake Horicon, and unquestionably one of the
best streams for the angler in the Scaroon valley. The Trout
Brook Pavilion, at the mouth of it, kept by one Lockvrood, is
a comfortable inn, and his right hand man, named Ki ;jp, is a
very fine fellow and a genuine angler.

Speaking of the above friends, reminds me of another, a fine
man named Lyndsey, who keepeth a tavern, about len miles
north of Scaroon Lake. His dwelling is delightfully situated
in the centre of a deep valley, and is a nice and convenient
place to stop at, for those who are fond of fishing, and admire
romantic scenery. His family, including his wife, two daugh-
ters and one son, not .only know how to make their friends com-
fortable, but they seem to have a passion for doing kind deeds.
During my stay at this place, I have had the pleasure of wit-
nessing a most interesting game, which seems to be peculiar to
this part of the country. It was played with the common ball
and by one hundred sturdy farmers. Previous to the time allu-
ded to, fifty Scaroon players had challenged an equal number of
players from a neighboring village named Moriah. The con-
ditions were that the defeated party should pay for a dinner to
bo given by my friend Lyndsey. They commenced playing at
nine o'clock, and the game was ended in about three hours, the
Scaroon party having won by about ten counts in five hundred.
The minority of the players varied from thirty to thirty-five

216

THE SCAROON COUNTRT.

IIP

p:P'>^^m

Kt'

Wfi

iM\

Wl^

b'4

years of age, though some of the most expert of them were
verging upon sixty years. They played with the impetuosity
of 'xhool boys, and there were some admirable feats performed
in the way of knocking and catching the ball. Some of the
men could number their acres by thousands, and all of them
were accustomed to severe labor, and yet they thought it ab-
solutely necessary to participate occasionally in this manly and
fatiguing sport. The dinner passed oif in fine style, and was
spiced by many agricultural anecdotes, and as the sun was set-
ting, the parties separated in the best of spirits and returned
to their several homes.

For fear that I should forget my duty, I would now introduce
to my reader a sheet of water embosomed among these moun-
tains, which glories in the name of Lake Paradox. How it
came by that queer title, I cannot learn, but this I know, that
it is one of the most beautiful lakes I have ever seen. It is five
miles long, and surrounded with uncultivated mountains, ex-
cepting at its foot, where opens a beautiful plain, highly culti-
vated and dotted with a variety of rude but exceedingly com-
fortable farm houses. The shores of Lake Paradox are rocky,
the water deep and clear, abounding in fish, and the lines of the
mountains are picturesque.

But it is time that I should turn from particulars to a general
description of the Scaroon Country. Though this is an agri-
cultural region, the two principle article^ of export are lumber
and iron. Of the former the principal varieties are pine, hem-
lock and spruce, and two establishments for the manufacture of
iron arc abundantly supplied with ore from the surrounding
mountains. Potatoes of the finest quality flourish here, alpo
wheat and corn. The people are mostly Americans, intelligent,
virtuous and industrious, and are as comfortable and happy as
any in the State.

THE ADIRONDAC MOUNTAINS

Th£ Adirondac Mountains are situated on the extreme head
waters of the Hudson, in the counties of Essex and Hamilton,
and ahout forty miles west of Lake Champlain. They vary
from five hundred to five thousand feet in height, and, with few
exceptions, are covered ^nth. dense forests. They lord it over
the most extensive wilderness region in the Empire State, and
as I have recently performed a pilgrimage among them, I now
purpose to give an account of what I saw and heard during my
expedition.

The tourist who visits these mountains, finds it necessary to
leave the mail road near Lyndsey's Tavern, on the Scaroon.
If Fortune smiles upon him, he will he aLle to hire a horse to
take him in the interior, or perhaps obtain a seat in a lumber
wagon ; but if not, he must try the mettle of his legs. With
regard to my own case, fortune was non-committal ; for while
she compelled me to go on foot, she supplied me with a pair of
temporary companions, who were going into the interior to see
their friends, and have a few days' sport in the way of fishing
and hunting. One of ray friends, (both of whom were young
men,) was a farmer, who carried a rifle, and the other a travel-
ling country musician, who carried a fiddle. Our first day's
tramp took us about fifteen miles, through a hilly, thickly
wooded, and houseless wilderness, to the Boreas River, where
we found a ruined log shantee, in which we concluded to spend
the night. We reached this lonely spot at about three o'clock
in the afternoon ; and having previously been told that the

218

THE ADIROMDAC MOUNTAINS.

•*"f*'i

^llijBS

Boretk3 ifas famous for trout, two of us started after a mess of
fish, while the fiddler was appointed to the office of wood-chopper
to the expedition. The Boreas at this point is about one hun-
dred feet broad, — winds through a woody valley, and is cold,
rapid, and clear. The entire river does not differ materially, as
I understand, from the point alluded to, for it waters an un-
known wilderness. I bribed my farmer friend to ascend the
river, and having pocked a variety of flies, I started down the
stream. I proceeded near half a mile, when I came to a still
water pool, which seemed to be quite extensive, and very deep.
At the head of it, midway in the stream, was an immense boul-
der, which I succeeded in surmounting, and whence I threw a
red hackle for upwards of three hours. I never saw trout jump
more beautifully, and it was my rare luck to basket thirty-four ;
twenty-one of which averaged three-quarters of a pound, and
the remaining thirteen were regular two-pounders. Satisfied
with my luck, I returned to the shantee, where I found my
companions ; one of them sitting before a blazing fire and fid-
dling, and the other busily employed in cleaning the trout he
had taken.

In due time followed the principal events of the day, which
consisted in cooking and eating a wilderness supper. We had
brought a supply of pork and bread, and each one having pre-
pared for himself a pair of wooden forka, we proceeded to roast
our trout and pork before a huge fire, using the drippings of the
latter for seasoning, and a leather cup of water for our bever-
age. We spent the two following hours in smoking and telling
stories, and having made a bed of spruce boughs, and repaired
the ricketty partition which divided one end of the cabin from
the other end, which was all open, we retired to repose ! We
had no blankets with us, and an agreement was therefore en-
tered into, that we should take turns in replenishing the fire
during the night. An awfully dai;k cloud settled upon the
wilderness, and by the music of the wind among the hemlock
trees, we were soon lulled into a deep slumber.

A short time after midnight, while dreaming of a certain
pair of eyes in the upper part of Broadway, I was awakened

THE ADIBONDAO MOUNTAINS.

219

,)»^;rr

by a footstep on the outside of the cabin. I brushed open my
eyes, but could see nothing but the faint glimmer of an expir-
ing ember on the hearth. I held my breath, and listened for
the mysterious footstep ; I heard it not, but something a little
more exciting, — the scratching of a huge paw upon our slender
door. In an exceedingly short time, I roused my bed-fe'lows,
and told them what I had heard. They thought it must be a
wolf, but as we were afraid to frighten Lira away, and anxious
to take his hide, it was resolved that I should hold a match, and
the farmer should fire his rifle in the direction of the uiysterious
noise; which operation was duly perforuied. A large p;ae
torch was then lighted, the rifle reloaded, and the heroes of Ui 3
adventure marched into the outer hall of the cabin, where we
found a few drops of blood, and the muddy trac'- ; !^ what we
supposed to be a wild cat. The ridcman and mvself then com-
missioned the fiddler to make a fire, when Ave again threw our-
selves upon the hemlock couch.

The fiddler attended faithfully to his duty, and in less than
twenty minutes, he had kindled a tremendous blaze. The bril-
liant and laughing flame had such an exhilarating influence
upon his nerves, that he seized his instrument and commenced
playing, partly for the purpose of keeping off" the wild animals,
but mostly for his own amusement. Then laying aside his
fiddle, he began to sing a variety of uncouth, as well as plain-
tive songs, one of which was vaguc, hvt mournful in sentiment,
and more wild in melody, as I thoa^ia at the time, than any-
thing that I had ever heard. I could not find out by whom it
was written, or <vhat was its exact import, but in the lonely
place where Ave were sleeping, and at that hour, it made a very
deep impression on my mind.

The burthen of the song was as foUoAvs, and I thought it in
keeping with the picture which the minstrel, the firelight, and
the rude cabin presented. •

Wo parted in silence, wo parted at night,
On the banks of that lonely river,
AVhere the shadowy trees their boughs unite,
We Act, and we parted forever ; —

P'^MH^

■v ,Vi

~sb^

220 THE ADIRONDAC MOUNTAINS. ^

The night bird sang, and the stars above
Told many a touching story
Of friends long passed to the mansions of rest,
Where the soul Tears her mantle of glory.

We parted in silence ; our cheeks were wet

By the tears that wore past controlling ; —

We vowed we would never, no never forget,

And those vows at the time were consoling ; —

But the lips that echoed those vows

Are as cold as that lonely river ; ''■

The sparkling eye, the spirit's shrine, i ,•

Has shrouded its fire forever. ,, ,, ... .

• And now on the midnight sky I look,

My eyes grow full with weeping, —
Each star to mo is a sealed book,
Some tala of that loved one keeping.

We parted in silence, we parted in tears, j . . ; ,

On the banks of that lonely river ;
• But the odor and bloom of by-gone years

Shall hang o'er its waters forever.

But Bleep, " dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyoug
health," soon folded the singer and his listeners in her embrace, ■
and with the rising sun we entered upon the labors of another
day. While the fiddler prepared our breakfast, (out of the few
trout which certain beastly robbers had not stolen during the
night,) the rifleman went out and killed a large hare, and I took
a sketch of the cabin where we had lodged.

After breakfast, we shouldered our knapsacks, and started
for the Hudson. Wo struck this noble river at the embryo
<!ity of Tahawus, where we found a log house and an unfinished
saw-mill. Here we also discovered a canoe, which we boarded,
and navigated the stream to Lake Sanford. This portion of
the Hudson is not more than one hundred feet broad, but quite
deep and picturesque. On leaving our canoe, we made our way
up a mountain road, and after walking about four miles, cami'
out upon an elevated clearing, of nome two hundred acres, ifi
the centre of which was a solitary log cabin with a retinue of
out-hottseB, and this was the famous Newoomb Bftrm.

THE ADIRONDAO MOUNTAINS.

221

The attractions of this spot are manifold, for it lies in the
vicinity of Moose Lake and Lake Delia, and commands the
finest distant prospect of the Adirondac mountains which has
yet been discovered.

Moose Lake lies at the west of the farm, and about six miles
distant. It is embosomed among mountains, and the fountain
head of the Cold River, which empties into the St. Lawrence.
In form it is so nearly round that its entire shore may be seen
at one view ; the bottom is covered with white sand, and the
water is remarkably cold and clear. Considering its size, it is
said to contain more trout than any lake in this wilderness, and
it is also celebrated as a watering place for deer and moose. In
fishing from the shore, one of our party caught no less than
forty pounds of trout in about two hours. There were two
varieties, and they varied from one to two 'pounds in weight.
Our guide to this lake, where wc encamped for one night, was
Steuben Hewitt, the keeper of the Newcomb Farm, who is
quite a hunter. This woodsman got the notion into his head
that ho must have a venison steak for his supper. We had
already seen some half dozen deer walking along the opposite
margin of the lake, but Steuben told us that he would wait
until after dark to capture his game. He also told us that the
deer were in the habit of visiting the wilder lakes of this re-
gion at night, for the purpose of escaping the tormenting flies,
and as ho spoke so confidently of what ho intended to accom-
plish, wo awaited his effort with a degree of anxiety. Soon as
the quiet night had fairly set in, he shipped himself on board
a wooden canoe, (a rickety afiair, originally bequeathed to this
lake by some departed Indian,) in the bow of which was a fire
jack, or torch holder. Separating this machine from himself, as
he sat in the centre of the canoe, was a kind of screen made
of bark, which was sufficiently elevated to allow him to fire his
gun from underneath ; and in this predicament, with a loaded
rifle by his side, did he paddle into the lake. After floating
upon the water for an hour, in perfect silence, he finally heard
a splashing near the shore, and immediately lighting his torch,
he noiselessly proceeded in the direction of the sound, when he

222

THE ADIRONDAO MOUNTAINS.

■li. ^J

iVi^lM^^B

'''ii

fl|

%:.

discovered a beautiful deer, standing knee deep in the water,
and looking at him in stupefied silence. The poor creature
could discover nothing but the mysterious light, and while stand-
ing in the most interesting attitude imaginable, the hunter
raised his rifle, and shot it through the heart. In half an hour
from that time, the carcass of the deer was hanging on a dry
limb near our camp fire, and I was lecturing the hard-hearted
hunter on the cruelty of thus capturing the innocent crea-
tures of the forest. To all my remarks, however, he replied,
*' They were given us for food, and it matters not how we kill
them."

Lake Delia, through which you have to pass in going to
Moose Lake, lies about two miles west of the Newcomb Farm.
It is four miles long, and less than one mile in width, and com-
pletely surrounded with wood-crowned hills. Near the centrs.1
portion, this lake is quite narrow, and so shallow that a rude
bridge has been thrown across for the accommodation of the
Farm people. The water under this bridge is only about four
feet deep, and this was the only spot in the lake where I fol-
lowed my favorite recreation. I visited it on one occasion,
with my companions, late in the afternoon, when the wind was
blowing, and we enjoyed rare sport in angling for salmon trout,
as well as a large species of common trout. I do not know the
number that we took, but I well remember that we had more
than we could conveniently carry. Usually, the salmon trout
are only taken in deep water, but in this, and in Moose Lake,
they seem to bo as much at homo in shallow as in deep water.
On one occasion I visited Lake Delia alone at an early hour in
the morning. It so happened, that I took a rifle along with
me, and while qu'' 'y throwing my fly on the old bridge, I had
an opportunity of using the gun to some purpose. My move-
ments in that lonely place were so exceedingly still, that even
the wild animals were not disturbed by my presence; for while
I stood there, a largo fat otter made his oppearance, and when
ho came within shooting distance, I gave him the contents of
my gun, and he disappeared. I relatcd^tho adventure to my
companions, on my return to the farm, but they pronounced it '

THB ADIKONDAC MOUNTAINS.

223

a " fish story." My veracity was vindicated, however, for, on
the following day, they discovered a dead otter on the lake
shore, and concluded that I had told the truth.

I must not conclude this chapter without giving ray reader
an additional paragraph about the Newcomb Farm. My friend
Steuben Hewitt's nearest neighbor is eight miles off, and as his
family is small, it may be supposed that he leads a retired life.
One of the days that I spent at his house, was quite an event-
ful one with him, for a town election was held there. The elec-
tors met at nine o'clock, and the poll closed at five ; and as the
number of votes polled was seven, it may well bo imagined that
the excitement was intense. But with all its loneliness the
Newcomb Farm is well worth visiting, if for no other purpose
than 10 witness the panorama of mountains Avhich it commands.
On every side but one may they be seen, fading away to mingle
their deep blue with the lighter hue of the sky, but the chief
among them all is old Tahawus, King of the Adirondacs. The
country out of which this mountain rises, is an imposing Alpine
wilderness, and as it has long since been abandoned by the red
man, the solitude of its deep valleys and lonely lakes for the
most part, is now more impressive than that of the far off
Rocky Mountains. The meaning of the Indian word Tahawus
is sky piercer ov skii splitter ; and faithfully describes the .ip-
pearance of the mountain. Its actual elevation above the level
of the sea is five thousand four hundred and sixty-seven feet,
while that of Mount Washington, in New Hampshire, is only
six thousand two hundred and thirty-four, maklnjj; a difference
of only seven hundred and sixty-seven feet in favor of Waiih-
ington. Though Tahawus is not quite so lofty as its New Eng-
land brother, yet its form is by far the most picturesque and
imposing. Taken together, thoy are the highest pair of moun-
tains in the United States ; and while the former may justly
look with pride upon its Lake Winnipcsockee and Merrimack
and Saoo rivers, the latter may well glory in its splendid
Hudson, and its not less beautiful lakes — Long Lake, llaquette
Lake and Lake Pleasant.

Before going one step further, I must allude to what I deem

I V iiVj 1..: u

f"lt I

M<«i|

224

THE ADIRONDAC MOUNT aNS.

the folly of a certain state geologist, in attempting to name the
prominent peaks of the Adirondac Mountains after a brother-
hood of living men. If he is to have his way in this matter,
the beautiful name of Tahawus will be superseded by that of
Marcy, and several of Tahawus' brethren are hereafter to be
known as Mounts Seward, Wright and Young. Now if this
business is not supremely ridiculous, I must confess that I do
not know the meaning of that word. A pretty idea, indeed,
to scatter to the winds the ancient poetry of the poor Indian,
and perpetuate in its place the names of living politicians. For
my part, I agree most decidedly with the older inhabitants of
the Adirondac wilderness, who look with decided indiflference
upon the attempted usurpation of the geologist mentioned.

For nine months in the year old Tahawus is covered with a
crown of snow, but there are spots among its fastnesses where
you may gather ice and snow even in the dog days. The base
of this mountain is covered with a luxuriant forest of pine,
spruce and hemlock, while the uummit is clothed in a net-work
of creeping trees, and almost destitute of the groeu which
should characterize them. In ascending its sides when near
the summit, you are impressed with the idea that your pathway
may bo smooth ; but as you proceed, you are constantly annoy-
ed by pit- falls, into which your legs are foolishly poking them-
selves, to the great annoyance of your back bono end other
portions of your body which are naturally straight.

I ascended Tahawus, as a matter of course, and in making
the trip I travelled some twenty miles on foot and through the
pathless woods, employing for the same the beUer part of two
days. My comf)anion on this expedition was John Cheney, (of
whom I have something to write hereafter,) and us he did not
consider it priident to spend the night on the summit, we only
spent one hour gazing upon thj panorama from the top, and
then descended about half way down the mountain where we
built our watch fire. The view from Tahawus is rather unique.
It looks down upon what appears to be an uninhabited wilder-
ness, with mountains, fading to the sky in every direction, and
where, on a clear day, you may count not less than twenty-four

THE ADIRONDAC MOUNTAINS.

225

lakes, including Champlain, Horicon, Long Lake and Lake
Pleasant.

While trymg to go to sleep on the night in question, a9 I lay
by the side of my friend Cheney, he gave me an account of the
manner in -which certain distinguished gentlemen have ascended
Mount Tahawus, for it must be known that he officiates as the
guide of all travellers in this wild region. Among those to
whom he alluded were Ingham and Cole, the artists, and Hoff-
man and Headley, the travellers. He told me that Mr. Ing-
ham fainted a number of times in making the ascent, but became
80 excited with all he saw, he determined to persevere, and
finally succeeded in accomplishing the difficult task. Mr. Hoff-
man, he said, in spite of his lameness, would not be persuaded
by words that he could not reach the summit ; rtud when he
finally discovered that this task was utterly beyond his accom-
plishment, his disappointment seemed '.;o have no bounds.

The night that I spent on Tahawus was not distinguished by
any event more remarkable than a regular built rain-storm.
Our canopy was composed of hemlock branches, and our only
covering was a blanket. The storm did not set in until about
midnight, and my first intimat'.on of its approach was the fall-
ing of rain drops' directly into my ear, as I snugged up to my
bed-fellow for the purpose of keeping warm. Desperate, in-
deed, were the efforts I moole to forget my condition in sleep,
as the rain fell more abundantly, and drenched me, as well as
my companion, to the very skin. The thunder bellowed as if
in the enjoyment of a very happy frolic, and the lightning
seemed determined to root up a few trees in our immediate
vicinity, as if for the purpose of giving us more room. Finally
Cheney rose from his pillow, (which was a log of wood,) and
proposed that we should quaff a little brandy, to keep us from
catching cold, which we did, and then made another attempt to
reach the land of Nod. * * * At the break of day we
were awakened from a short but refreshing sleep, by the sing-
ing of birds, and when the cheerful sunlight had reached the
bottom of the ravines, we were enjoying a comfortable break-
fast in the cabin of my friend.
16

"Na»a-:.r'

226

THE ADIRONDAC MODMTAINB.

i-ii

■It

The principal attractions assoohtcd with Tihawus, are the
Indian Pass, the Adirondac LaLv ■, the Adirornlijv: iron -works,
and t^e mighty' hunter of tho AJiros' licf, Tohr Cli^ney. f'hc
Pass, so called, is only an okl-fashioni;d notth' between the
\tiountains. <.)n one siue is a p'jrpendicular precipice, risirrr to
the iicight of .leven hundred feet ; and, on the other, a ■wood-
covered mountain, .uscending far up into tbo sky, at an angle
of fortv-five degi''^ea. Thiough this pass i'ows a tiny rivulet,
over which the rocks ar-^ no thickly pi) ^ as frequently to form
pitfall? that measure froin ten to thirtv feet iu depth. Some
of these holes are never dcetiiute of ice, and are cool and com-
fortable even at midsumtuer. The Pass is nearly half a mile
in length, and, at one [toint, certain immentio boulders have
come together and formt-il a cavern, which is called the " meet-
ing house," and is, perhnp;-), capable of containing one thousand
people. The rock on eiibor side of the Pass is a gray granite,
and its only inhabitants arc eagles, which are quite abundant,
and occupy the most conspicuous crag in the notch.

The two principal lakes wliich gem this immediate portion of
thQ Adirondac wilderness, are named Sanford and Henderson,
after the two gentlemen who first purchased land upon their
borders. The former is five miles in length, and the latter
somewhat less than three, both of them varying in width from
half a mile to a. mile and a half. The mountains which swoop
down to their bosoms are covered with forest, and abound in a
great variety of large game. There is not, to my knowledge,
a single habitation on either of the lakes, and the only smoke
ever seen to ascend from their lonely recesses, comes from the
watch-fire of the hunter, or the encampment of surveyors and
and tourists. The water of these lakes is cold and deep, and
moderately supplied with salmon trout. Lake Henderson is
admirably situated for the exciting sport of deer hunting, and
though it contains two or three canoes, cannot be entered from
the West Branch of the Hudson without making a portage.
Through Lake Sanford, however, the Hudson takes a direct
course, and there is nothing to impede the passage of a small
boat to within a mile of the iron works, which are located in a

THE ADIRONBAC MOUNTAINS.

227

valley between the two lakes. The fact is, during the summer
there is quite an extensive business done on Lake Sanford, in
the way of " bringing in" merchandise, and " cai*rying out" the
produce of the forge. It was my misfortune to make the in-
ward passage ot the lake in company with two ignorant Irish-
men. Their boat was small, heavily laden, very tottery and
leaky. This was my only chance ; and on taking my seat with
a palpitating heart, I made an express bargain with the men,
that they should keep along the shore on their way up. They
verbally assented to my wishes, but immediately pulled for the
very centre of the lake. I remonstrated, but they told me
there was no danger. The boat was now rapidly filling with
water, and though one was bailing with all his might, the ras-
cals were determined not to accede to my wishes. The conclu-
sion of the matter was that our shallop became water-logged,
and on finally reaching the shore, the merchandise vas greatly
damaged, and I was just about as wet as I was an^ry at the
miserable creatures, whose obstinacy had not only greatly in-
jured their employers, but also endangered my own plunder as
well as my life.

The iron works alluded to above, are located in a narrow val-
ley, and in the immediate vicinity of Lake Henderson, at a
place called Mclntyre. Some time in the year 1830, a couple
of Scottish gentlemen, named Henderson and Mclntyre, pur-
chased a large tract of wild land lying in this portion of New
York. In the summer following, they passed through this wil-
derness on an exploring expeditioii, and with the assistance of
their IiMian guide, discovered that the bed of the valley in ques-
tion was literally blocked up with iron ore. On making farther
investigations, tho^ found that the whole rocky region about
thorn was composed of Valuable mineral, and they subsequently
established a regular-built iron establishment, which has been
in operation over since. A gentleman named Robinson after-
wards purchased an interest in the concern, and it is now carried
on by him and Mr. Mclntyre, though the principal stockholders
are the wife and son of Mr. Henderson, deceased.

The metal manufactured by this company is of the very best

r '.

• i^^

m»

u-*'?ffl»|-fTI:^"J5»

• "■'■ \

■■■; '*'i

,;' jjji^; 1

:*&

!s^

i^wt

228

THE ADIBONDAO MOUNTAINS.

:!-•! ifi

■¥mm '

S^ffi

;

|kV,C

■
it

quality of bar-iron ; and an establishment is now in progress of
erection at Tabawus, twelve miles down the river, where a
party of English gentlemen intend to manufacture every variety
of steel. The iron works here give employment to about one
hundred and fifty men, whose wages vary from one to four dol-
lars per day. The society of the place, you may well imagine,
is decidedly original ; but the prominent individual, anci only
remarkable man who resides here, is John Cheney, the mighty
hunter of the Adirondaos. For an account of this man, the
reader will please look into the following chapter.

THE ADIRONDAC HUNTER.

John Cheney was born in New Hampshire, but spent his
boyhood on the shores of Lake Champlain, and has resided in
the Adirondac wilderness about thirteen years. He has a wife
and one child, and lives in a comfortable cabin in the wild vil-
lage of Mclntyre. His profession is that of a hunter, and he
is in the habit of spending about one-half of his time in the
woods. He is a remarkably amiable and intelligent man, and
as unlike the idea I had formed of him as possible. I expected
from all that I had heard, to see a huge, powerful, and hairy
Nimrod ; but, instead of such, I found him small in stature,
bearing more the appearance of a modest and thoughtful stu-
* dent, gentle in his monners, and as devoted a lover of nature
and soliiade as ever lived.

The walls of his cosey Mttle house, containing one principal
room, are ornamented with a. large printed sheet of the Declar-
ation of Independence, and two engraved portraits of Wash-
ington and Jackson. Of guns and pistols he has an abundant
supply, and also a good stock of all the conveniences for camp-
ing among the mountains. He keeps one cow, which supplies
his family with all the milk they need ; but his favorite animals
are a couple of hunting dogs, named Buck and Tiger.

As summer is not the time to accomplish much in the way of
hunting, my adventures with John Cheney have not been dis-
tinguished by any stirring events ; we have, however, enjoyed
some rare sport in the way of fishing, and obtained some glori-
ous views from the mountain peaks of this region. But the con-
versation of this famous Nimrod has interested me exceedingly,

■^^'wm>\

1:!lfes

>..:. ^**«t-.

liir'n

230

TUE ADIRONDAC HUNTER.

and wherever we might be, under his own roof, or^by the side
of our mountain watch-fires, I have kept him '^usy in recount-
ing his former adventures. I copied into my note-book nearly
everything he said, and now present my readers with a few
extracts relating to his hunting exploits. I shall use his own
words, as nearly as I can remember them.

3fC V ^n ^r T* 1*

" I was always fond of hunting, and the first animal I killed
was a fox ; I was then ten years of age. Even from childhood,
I was so in love with the woods that I not only neglected
school, but was constantly borrowing a gun, or stealing the one
belonging to my father, with which to follow my favorite amuse-
ment. Ho found it a useless business to make a decent boy of
me, and in a fit of desperation he one day presented me with a
common fowling piece. I was the youngest of thirteen child-
ren, and was always called the black sheep of the family. I
have always enjoyed good health, and am forty-seven years of
age ; but I have now passed my prime, and don't care about
exposing myself to any useless dangers.

»T" t* •!* T* V 'I*

" You ask me if I ever hunt on Sunday ; no, sir, I do not. ,
I have always been able to kill enough on week days to give
me a comfortable living. Since I came to live among the Adi-
rondacs. I have killed six hundred deer, four hundred sable,
nineteen moose, twenty-eight hears, six wolves, seven wild cats,
thirty otter, one panther and one beaver,

*(* T* T^ yr ^ T^

" As to that beaver I was speaking about, it took mo tliree
years to capture him, for ho was an old fellow, and remarkably
cunning. He was the last, from all that I can learn, that was
ever taken in the State. One of the Long Lake Indians often
attempted to trap him, but without success ; he usually found
his trap sprung, but could never get a morsel of the beaver's
tail ; and so it was with me, too ; but I finally fixed a trap
under the water, near the entrance to his dam, and it so hap-
pened that he one day stepped into it and was drowned.

THE ADIRONDAC HUNTEK.

231

" I was going to tell you something about my dogs, Buck
and Tiger. I've raised some fifty of these animals in my day,
but I never owned such a tormented smart one as that fellow
Buck. I believe there's a good deal of the English mastiff in
him, but a keener eye than he carries in his head I never saw.
Only look at that breast of his ; did you ever see a thicker or
more solid one ? He's handsomely spotted, as you may see,
but some of the devilish Lake Pleasant Indians cut off his ears
and tail about a year ago, and he now looks rather odd. You
may not believe it, but I have seen a good many men who were
not half as sensible as that very dog. Whenever the fellow's
hungry he always seats himself at my feet and gives three
short barks, which is his way of telling me that he would like
some bread and meat. If the folks happen to be away from
home, and he feels a little sharp, he pays a regular visit to all
the houses in the village, and after playing with the children,
barks for a dry crust, which he always receives, and then comes
back to his own home. He's quite a favorite among the chil-
,dren, and I've witnessed more than one fight because some
wicked little scamp had thrown a stone at him. When I speak
to him he understands me just as well as you do. I can wake
him out of a sound sleep, and by my s»ying, ' Buck, go up
and kiss the baby,' he will march directly to the cradle and lick
the baby's face ; and the way he watches that baby when it's
asleep, is perfectly curious, — he'd tear you to pieces in three
minutes if you were to try to take it away. Buck is now four
years old, and though he's helped me to kill several hundred
deer, he never lost one for me yet. Whenever I go a-hunting,
and don't want him along, I have only to say, ' Buck, you must
not go,' — and he remains quiet : there's no use in chaining
him, I tell you, for he understands his business. This dog
never starts after a deer until I tell him to go, even if the deer
is in sight. Why 'twas only the other day that Tiger brought
in a doe to Lake Colden, where the two had a desperate fight
within one hundred yards of the spot where Buck and myself
were seated. I wanted to try the mettle of Tiger, and told
Buck he must not stir, though I went up to the doe to see what

282

THE ADIRONDAO HUNTER.

^Mi

!l, a-wsfs..

i'l'"*^:

f!'l|:

the result would be between the fighters. Buck didn't movo
out of his tracks, but the way he howled for a little taste of
blood was perfectly awful. I almost thought the fellow would
die in his agony. Buck is of great use to me, when I am off
hunting, in more ways than one. If I happen to be lost in a
snow storm, which is sometime the case, I only have to tell
him to go home, and if I follow his tracks I am sure to come
out in safety ; and when sleeping in the woods at night, I never
have any other pillow than Buck's body. As to my black dog
Tiger, he isn't quite two years old yet, but he's going to make
a great hunter. I am trying hard now-a-days to break him of
a very foolish habit of killing porcupines. Not only does he
attack every one he sees, but he goes out to hunt them, and
often comes home all covered with their quills. It was only
the other day that he came home with about twenty quills
working their way into his snout. It so happened, however,
that they did not kill him, because he let me pull them all out
with a pair of pincers, and that too without budging an inch.
About the story people tell, that the porcupine throws its.
quills, I can tell you it's no such thing, — it is only when the
quills touch the dog, that they come out and work their way
through his body. »

^f * * 4^ * *

" As to deer hunting, I can tell you more stories in that line
than you'd care about hearing. They have several ways of
killing them in this quarter, and some of their ways arc so in-
fernal mean, I'm surprised that there should be any deer left
in the country. In the first place, there's the ' still hunting'
fashion, when you lay in ambush near a salt-lick, and shoot the
poor creatures when they're not thinking of you. And there's
the beastly manner of blinding them with a ' torch-light' when
they come into the lakes to cool themselves, and get away from
the flies, during the warm nights of summer. Now I say, that
no decent man will take this advantage of wild game, unless he
is in a starving condition. The only manly way to kill deer is
by ' driving' them, as I do, with a couple of hounds.

" There isn't a creature in this whole wilderness that I think

THK ADIRONDAC HUNTER.

288

so much of as a deer. They are so beautiful, with their bright
eyes, graceful necks, and sinewy legs ; and they are so swift,
and make such splendid leaps when hard pressed ; why, I've
seen a buck jump from a cliff that was forty feet high, and
that, too, without injuring a hair. I wish I could get my living
without killing this beautiful animal ! — but I must live, and I
suppose they were made to die. The cry of the deer, when in
the agonies of death, is the awfulest sound I ever heard ; — I'd
a good deal rather hear the scream of the panther, provided I
have a ball in m^ pistol, and the pistol is in my hand. I wish
they would never speak so.

" The time for taking deer is in the fall and winter. It's a
curious fact, that when a deer is at all frightened, he cannot
stand upon smooth ice, while, at the same time, when not afraid
of being caught, he will not only walk, but actually trot across
a lake as smooth as glass. It's a glorious sight to see them
running dbwn the mountains, with the dogs howlin,^ behind ;
but I don't think I ever saw a more beautiful race t*^ . 1 1 once
did on Lake Henderson, between a buck-deer and my dog
Buck, when the lake was covered with a light fall of snow.
I had put Buck upon a fresh track, and was waiting for him
on the laks shore. Presently, a splendid deer bounded out of
the woods upon the ice, and as the dog was only a few paces
off, he led the race directly across the lake. Away they ran
as if a hurricane was after them ; crossed the lake, then back
again. Then they made another wheel, and having run to
the extreme southern point of the lake, again returned, when
the deer's wind gave out, and the dog caught and threw the
creature, into whose throat I soon plunged my knife, and the
race was ended.

" I never was so badly hurt in hunting any animal as 1
have been in hunting deer. It was while 'chasing a buck on
Cheney's Lake, (which was named after me by Mr. Henderson
in commemoration of my escape,) that I once shot myself in a
very bad way. I was in a canoe, and had laid my pistol down
by my side, when, as I was pressing hard upon the animal, my
pistol slipped under me in some queer way, and went off, send-

CWii,.

»*

\h t

284

THE ADIROKDAC HUNTER.

K^ifii^

■:^'

Iff*"!

i I

'HIS'

ing a ball into my leg, just above the ankle, 'which came out
just below the knee. I knew something terrible had happened,
and though I thought that I' might die, I was determined that
the deer should die first ; and I did succeed in killing him be-
fore he reached the shore. But, soon as the excitement was
over, the pain I felt before was increased a thousand-fold, and
I felt as if all the devils in hell were dragging at my leg, the
weight and the agony were so great. I had never suffered so
before, and I thought it strange. You may not believe it,
but when that accident happened, I was fourteen miles from
home, and yet, even with that used-up leg, I succeeded in
reaching my home, where 1 was confined to my bed from Oc-
tober until April. That was a great winter for hunting which
I missed ; but my leg got entirely well, and is now as good as

ever.

* * * .*..;,, i-m ■ > *

The most savage animal that I hunt for among thfese moun-
tains is the moose, or caraboo, as I have heard some people
call ♦^hem by mistake. They're quite plenty in the region of
Long Lake and Lake Pleasant ; and if the hunter don't under-
^stand their ways, he'll be likely to get killed before he thinks
of his danger. The moose is the largest animal of the deer
kind, or, in fact, of any kind that we find in this part of the
country. His horns arc very large, and usually look like a
pair of crab-apple trees. He has a long head, long legs, arid
makes a great noise when he travels ; his flesh is considered
first ra»,c, for he feeds upon grass, and the tender buds of the
moose mople. Ho is a rapid traveler, and hard to tire out.
In winter they run in herds ; and when the snow is deep, tlicy
generally live in one particular place in the woods which we
call a ' yard.' The crack time for killing them is tho winter,
when wo can travel "on tho snow Avith our braided snow shoes.
But moose arc in good condition in the fall, and I can toll you
that a dead moose, on a bed of yellow leaves, is one of tho
prettiest sights in the world.

" I once killed twomooso before nine o'clock in the morning.
I had boon out a hunting for two days, in the winter, and when

. .'-4,' »**^V/^..!'.l-.,'>

^Xkl-i

,\:v^-^

^i^

>^u,

:<l^

.#■

•1^*

fi<^«

'||

,.?^^"-*ni ,*■'-.»*:

^34

Tnv. AnwnvnAf! wttntfr.

Jfe ^ '

and - ■■ ' ^ ■ -' •' « _ni*,a.' '(■• I ••!:■ '.:'r>.y . ■■,

t-.iiMMi^'- . . *«<l 5 vH.I S|r^-''r,> in K'lV'.vf

WV i" •■ n-' ':~'1 'Ij ■ 1^^» f^oou i.s 'ho t}\\' ...

ovrr, i'j'- |>:\!'; J l'')' ftii'' w. ir, -nn-' ■': h thi><iM;\'.'. '' .

w> igif. ;itl the ri,,i>ri.' i^tT" so .treat, t hu'l vn-v r '?•
• "•t'"r<', nv.A i tlii'tiglii i: yifaop}. V r .ii.i_. . •- 'c'
'■•u -vl't : '• t .!<;ii.'i«loiK iiiifycncij, r \w^ f',. I.;) teen 1.1 ■
Waii\ Mild yrr, iv.n Vvit'i tlt;i.' iiMcd-np !• ,,', i -wr
Vv'vrlii.'jg n:y lit>rn<' v. !if>it ' -V' i..-. coiiiint'fl ■•> ts>; !■
•fh^riuitil April. Tlutt ^\?is t ..'at winter f..- Unj>:.i.
f !4'- ' •. V>'it r V •■ • -of ('utiiT'-v t'M, iWiil is ii'iv. I- .
. v.:r.

'.jud*. i* : ■ i,if"'^« "ye V'-vm-'-' "• \ Ikjn Ki-nri! hoiu" ?■
'•a;P '• • ■'■ ;,.v.t»k«, '■■' i-y ri» . ■■ , ,/ontyia \\\ '••*»-
Jfc<«>P< 1 ■'■'«.•' ii'.»j '.«*•■■ r ' .*»•' ^'■'■' ts .i i!Vii,ii r (\^^r^'
'Ji%h\ii\ M. >ir \''>y!'. ') ,-'!i ' '• ikwly •'» ^f* '■!''ii'<) ^'Vort' !■<• .
i>f M'' i.tiM'-'r. 'HiH tiMV- ;< f!i. Urf'i"*. ".;i: ■.! Ill" th'
kind, ul'. in ■ !'■'. 'if ; 'i^i 1 i'ld i* if »v(> (ii.i mi t)ii-i pnrf i-
country-, li..' lioviH art' vciylar'-' nut iHiiiilly lnot-
!'.t: ' crni)-' i'>(>Io titL'^^ Ko It' • '■'>;.' ■ I'lil, l«ni(r !• -
iOaIm 3 'X g''"'^ nniso '^vijiji f: •''^■-i' ' ''"'''

ii ' r'Afi '" ; 'h' Xv<!i\? »!! t ;^. '!.v, ttlld Iht' ■■ lor bir):.
inor*'-. ■■> '• 'ms'- itpM h-fiV('V"r, 'm > -t' ■>, ti. i
Ul wii'ii ' i:i'Y rut' n UeMi.i ; ♦i.n »vli< i '» i • v " u
ii . ''v ! ■ in (1(1'" J'"'''-' '>l!'i' pi-- I. n till ■" I.< Hf
■ < ' 'tii'^ vi'mlv {.'u(\t< tor i. !)■ ;.; Winu t- ih'.
».i «i *'i? (■ . /. * :i '■: tli«! anow witli. or.f l>rni'l'"l fltnyw '
tUtf BK'OW iiri* in li'Xh' ■. i lil.lon in lrtv> iull. o. . : I o«i. u
4i,.! ' ;j'I uioost.. yn a ln'il of yijliow '"iv<,s. in <'ti<' m i

J LaVl !' >«< ft luihtut;^ fyr i>vo i^rtVf?, ill iltf wnnti-* nml v...,

•^^1

1 ' 1

J-

THE ADIRONDAC HUNTER.

235

night came on, I had to camp out near tlio foot of old Tahawus.
When I got up in the morning, and was about to start for
home, I discovered a yard, where lay a couple of bull moose.
I don't know what they were thinking about, but just as soon
its they saw me, they jumped up, and made directly towards the
place where I was standing. I couldn't get clear of their ugly
feet without running, so I put for a large dead tree that had
blown over, and walking to the butt- end of it, which was some
ten feet high, looked down in safety upon the devils. They
seemed to be very mad about something, and did everything
they could to get at me, by running around ; and I remember
they ran together, as if they had been yoked. I waited for a
good chance to shoot, and when I got it, fired a ball clear
through one of the animals, into the shoulder of the second.
The first one dropped dead as a door nail, but the other took to
his heels, and after going about fifty rods, concluded to lie
down. I then came up to him, keeping my dogs back for the
purpose of sticking him, when he jumped up again, and put
after me like lightning. I ran to a big stump, and after I had
fairly fixed myself, I loaded again, and again fired, when the
follow tumbled in the snow quite dead. He was eight feet high,
and a perfect roarer. *

1)1 « iti * * *

" Another animal that we sometimes find pretty plenty in
those woods, is, the big grey wolf; they are savage fellows, and
dangerous to meet with when angry. On getting up early one
winter morning, I noticed, in the back part of my garden,
what r thought to bo a wolf track. I got my gun, called
for my dogs, and started on the hunt. I found the fellow in
his den among the mountains. I kindled a fire, and smoked
him out. I then chased him for about two miles, Avhen he came
to bay. IIo was a big follow, and my dogs were afraid to
olinoh in; — dogs hate a wolf worse than any other animal. I
found I had a fair chance, so I fired at the creature ; but my
ffm missed fire. The wolf then attacked me, and in striking
liim with my guii, I broke it all to pieces. I Avas in a bad fix,
I tell you, but I immodiatcly threw inyaolf on my back, with

U7A''^

Mi--/

^^™l

P)Ai|^

MWSl

liw

iifiS

StB

li'KlW'

ftm^^v^m

236

THB ADIRONDAC HUNTER.

my snow shoes above me, when the wolf jumped right on to my
body, and, probably, would have killed me, had it not been for
my dog Buck, who worried the wolf so badly, that the devil left
me, to fight the dog. While they were fighting with all their
might, I jumped up, took the barrel of my gun, and settled it
right into the brain of the savage animal. That was the larg-
est wolf ever killed in this wilderness.

^ ^ V 1* n* ^r

" One of the hardest fights I ever had in these woods was
with a black bear. I was coming from a winter hunt. The
snow was very deep, and I had on my snow-shoes. It so hap-
pened, as I was coming down a- certain mountain, the snow sud-
denly gave way under me, and I fell into the hole or winter
quarters of one of the blackest and largest bears I ever saw.
The fellow was quite as much frightened as I was, and he scam-
pered out of the den in a great hurry. I was very tired, and
had only one dog with rac at the time, but I put after him. I
had three several battles with him, and in one of these he struck
my hand ivith such force as to send my gun at least twenty
or thirty feet from where we stood. I finally managed to kill
the rascal, however, but not until he had almost destroyed the
life of my dog.* That was a noble dog ; but in that battle lie
received his death-wound. lie couldn't walk at the time, and
though I was nine miles from home, I took him up in my arms
and brought him ; but with all my nursing I could not get him
up again, for he died a',; the end of a few weeks. That dog wu.^
one of the best friends I ever had.

« * * * * *

"But the most dangerous animal in this country is the yel-
low pan;t.i>ir or painter. They are not very plenty, and so tor-
mented cunning that it is very ioldom you can kill one. Thoy
are very ugly, but don't often attack a man unless cornered or
wounded. They look and act very much like a cat, only that
they are very large ; I never killed but one, and his bouy was
five feet long, and liis tail botweeu three and four. At nigbt
their eyes look like balls of fire, and when they are after game
they make a hissing noise, which is very dreadful to hear.

THE ADIRONDAO HUNTER.

237

Their scream is also very terrible, and I never saw the man
who was anxious to hear it more than once. They are seldom
hunted as a matter of business, but usually killed by accident.
" The panther I once killed, I came across in this manner.
I was out on Lake Henderson with two men, catching fish
through the ice, when we saw two wolves come on to the ice
in great haste, looking and acting as if they had been pursued.
I pi'oposed to the men that we should all go and kill them if we
could. They wanted ^o fish, or were a little afraid, so I took
my gun and started aftt" the game. I followed them some
distance, when, as they wero scaling a ledge, they were attacked
by a big panther, and a bloody fight took place. From the
appearance of the animals, I sv nposed that they had met be-
fore, which was the cause why tl o wolves came upon the la]:e.
During the scuffle between the i niraals, it is a singular fact
that they all three tumbled off the precipice and fell through
the air about one huni'rcd feet. Thv' wolves jumped up and
ran away, while the panther started in another direction. T
followed his track, and after traveling a number of hours, over-
took him, and managed to shoot bin through the shoulder.
He then got into a tree, and as he was lashing his tail and get-
ting ready to pounce upon me, I gave him another ball, and he
fell to the earth with a crash, and was quite dead. I then
went to the lake and got the men to help me home with my
liooty.

3Klii|ii|

■' Jr ■ r ,' I "^

f¥'^^

inr •• J i

LAKE CHAMPLAIN.

Of all the towns Athich I have seen, Burlington, in Vermont,
is decidedly one of the most beautiful. It stands on the shore
of Lake Champlain, and from the water to its eastern extremity
is a regular elevation, which rises to the height of some three hun-
dred feet. Its streets are broad and regularly laid out ; the
generality of its buildings elegant, and its inhabitants well edu-
cated, refined and wealthy. My visit here is now about to
close, and I cannot but follow the impulses of my heart, by
giving my reader a brief account of its principal picturesque
attractions, and some information concerning a few if its pub-
lic men.

As a matter of course, my first subject is Lake Champlain.
In approaching it from the south, and particularly from Hori-
con, one is apt to form a wrong opinion of its pictm-esque fea-
tures ; but you cannot pass through it without being lavish in
its praise. It extends, in a straight line from south to north,
somewhat over an hundred miles, and lies between the States
of New York and Vermont. It is the gateway between the
country on the St. Lawrence, and that on the Hudson, and :.;
is, therefore, extensively navigated by vessels and steamboats.
It is surrounded with flourishing villages, whose population is
generally made up of New Englanders anil Canadians. Its
width varies from half a mile to thirteen ; but its Avaters are
muddy, excepting in the vicinity of Burlington. Its islands
nre not numerous, but one of them, drand Isle, ia sufficiently
largo to support four villages. Its scenery may be denomina-
ted bold ; on the west are tlio Adirondac Mountains, and at

LAKE CHAMPLAIN.

239

some distance on the east, the beautiful Green Mountains,
whose glorious commanders are Mansfield Mountain and the
Carael's Hump. Owing to the width of the lake at Burlington,
and the beauty of the western mountains, the sunsets that are
here visible, are exceedingly superb.

The classic associations of this lake are uncommonly inter-
esting. Here are the moss-covered ruins of Ticonderoga and
Crown Point, whose present occupants are the snake, the
lizard and toad. Leaden and iron balls, broken bayonets, and
English flints have I picked up on their ramparts, which I can-
not look upon without thinking of death struggles and the hor-
rible shout of Avar. And there, too, is Plattsburgh, in whose
waters Commodore McDonough vindicated the honor of the
Stars and Stripes of Freedom. As to the fishing of this lake,
I have but a word to say. Excepting trout, almost every va-
riety of fresh water fish is found hero in abundance ; but the
water is not pure, which is ever a serious drawback to my en-
joyment in wetting the line. Lake Champlain received its
name from a French nobleman who discovered it in 1609, and
who died at Quebec in 1635.

The associations I am now to speak of are of a personal cha-
racter ; and the first of the three names before me is that of
Joseph Torrey, the present Professor of Moral and Intellectual
Philosophy in the University of Vermont. As a citizen, ho is
one of the most amiable and beloved of men. As one of the
faculty of the university, he occupies a high rank, and is a par-
ticular favorite with all his students. A pleasing evidence of
the latter fact I noticed a few days since, when it was reported
among the students that the Professor had returned from a visit
to the Springs for his health. I was in company with some
half-dozen of them at the time, and these are the remarks they
made. " How is his health?" " I hope he has improved!"
" Now shall I be happy — for ever since he went away, the re-
citation room has been a cheerless place to me." " Now shall
I be advised as to ray essay!" " Now shall my poem be cor-
rected!" " Now in my trouble shall I have the sympathy of
a true friend !" Much more mea.'ing in contained in these siui-

Mm t-l^m

['■

HI ii^:--

ifi^a

h f^^

PpruW;» JI,,|LI

W-j

■^■iik^

uTi"

EtfraB

m.Lii

240

LAKE ITTAMPLAIN.

. pie phrases than what meets the eye. Surely, if any man is
to be envied, it is he who has a place in the affections of all
who know him. As a scholar, too, Professor Torrey occupies
an exalted station, as will be proven to the world in due time.
He has never published anything but an occasional article for
a review, and the memoir of President Marsh, (who was lii*
predecessor in the university,) as contained in the admirable
volume of his Remains, which should occupy a conspicuous
place in the library of every American scholar and Christian.
The memoir is, indeed, a rare specimen of that kind of writing,
— beautifully written, and pervaded by a spirit of refinement
that is delightful. But I was mostly interested in Mr. Torrey
as a man of taste in the Fine Arts. In everything but the
mere execution, he is a genuine artist, and long may I remem-
ber the counsels of his experience and knowledge. A course
of Lectures on the Arts forms a portion of his instruction as
Professor, and I trust that they will eventually be published
for the benefit of our country. He has also translated from
the German of Schelling, a most admirable discourse, entitled
" Relation of the Arts of Design to Nature ;" a copy of which
ought to be in the possession of every young artist. Mr. Tor-
rey has been an extensive traveller in Europe, and being a lover,
and an acute observer of everything connected with literature
and art, it is quite a luxury to hear him expatiate upon " the
wonders he has seen." He also examines everything with the
eye of a philosopher, and his conclusions are ever of practical
utility. Not only can he analyze in a profound manner the
principles of metaphysical learning, but with the genuine feel-
ings of a poet, descant upon the triumphs of poetic genius, or
point out the mind-charms of a Claude or Titian. He is — but
I will not say all that I would, for fear that at our next meeting
he would chide mo for my boyish personalities. Let me con-
clude, then, reader, with the advice, that, if you ever chance to
meet the Professor in your travels, you must endeavor to secure
an introduction, which I am sure you cannot but ever remember
with unfeigned pleasure.
John Henry Hopkins, D.D., Bishop of Vermont, is another

LAKE CHAMPLAIN.

241

of the principal attractions of Burlington. The history of his
life, the expression of his countenance, and his general deport-
ment all speak of the "peace of God." Considering the num-
ber and diversity of his acquirements, I think him a very re-
markable man. He is not ouly, in point of character, well
worthy 'f his exalted stat' -is Bishop, but as a theologian
learned and eloquent to .>ii mon degree. His contribu-

tions to the world of lei ' rare value, as he has pub-

lished volumes entitled ty Vindicated," " The Pri-

mitive Church," "The . umitivc Creed," "The Church of
Rome," " British Reformation," and "Letters to the Clergy."
His style of writing is persuasive, vigorous, and clear, and all
his conclusions seem to have been formed in full view of the
Bible, which is a virtue well worth noticing in these degenerate
days. It is because of his honesty and soundness, I suppose,
that some of his own church are disaffected with his straight-
forward conduct. Bishop Hopkins, as a divine, is of the same
school with the late Bishop White, and therefore among the
most eminently wise and good of his country.

The Bishop of Vermont is also a man of remarkable taste
with regard to Architecture, Music and Painting, in which de-
partments, as an amateur, he has done himself great credit.
Not only did he plan and superintend the building of an edifice
for his recent school, but has published an interesting book on
Architecture, wherein he appears to be as much at home as if
he were Christopher Wren. Knowing the market to be full of
sentimental nonsense in the way of songs, he composed, for the
benefit of his own children, a few with a moral tone, which he
also set to music, and are now published as a worthy tribute to
his fine feelings and the correctness of his ear. But he ranks
still higher as a man of taste in the capacity of Painter. The
Vermont drawing-book, which he published, is an evidence of
his ability as a draftsman. The family portraits which adorn
his walls prove him to have an accurate eye for color, and an
uncommon knowledge of efiect ; — and his oil sketches of scenes
from nature give token of an ardent devotion to nature. But
the best, in my opinion, of all his artistical productions, is a
16

?*■ ;'

i-M.

~\:

(?>

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

1.1

11.25

■yuu

HiotDgraphic

Sciences

Corporation

m.'

23 WIST MAIN STRUT

WnSTM.N.Y. 14510

(7I«)I73-4S03

242

LAKE OHAHPLAIN.

picture representing our " Saviour blessing little children."
Its conception, grouping and execution are all of very great
merit, and I am persuaded will one day be looked upon with
peculiar interest by the lovers and judges of art in this coun-
try. Though done in water colors, and considered by the artist
as a mere sketch for a larger picture, there .' i. e some heads in
it that would have called forth a compliment even from the
lamented Allston. Would that he could be influenced to send
it, for exhibition, to ovr National Academy ! And thus endeth
my humble tribute of applause to a gifted man.

I now come to the Hon. George P. Marsh, of whom, if I
were to follow the bent of my feelings, I could write a complete
volume. Though yet in the early prime of life, he is a sage in
learning and wisdom. After leaving college he settled in Bur-
lington, where he has since resided, dividing his time between
his legal profession and the retirement of his study. With a
large and liberal heart, he possesses all the endearing and in-
teresting qualities which belong to the true and accomplished
gentleman. Like all truly great men, he is exceedingly retir-
ing and modest in his deportment, and one of that rare class
who seem never excited by the voice of fame. About four
years ago, almost without his knowledge, he was elected to a
seat in the lower house of Congress, where he at once began to
make an impression as a statesman. Though few have been
his public speeches, they are remarkable for sound political
logic and the classic elegance of their language. As an orator,
he is not showy and passionate, but plain, forcible and earnest.

But it is in the walks of private life that Mr. Marsh is to be
mostly admired. His knowledge of the Fine Arts is probably
more extensive than that of any other man in this country, and
his ji'itical taste is equal to his knowledge ; but that depart-
ment peculiarly his hobby, is engraving. He has a passion for
line engravings ; and it is unquestionably true, that his collec-
tion is the most valuable and extensive in the Union. He is
well acquainted with the history of this art from the earliest
period, and also with its various mechanical ramifications. Ho
is as familiar with the lives and peculiar styles of the Painters

LAKE OHAMPLAIN.

243

and Engravers of antiquity, as with his household affairs ; and
when he talks to you on his favorite theme, it is not to display
his learning, but*to make you realize the exalted attributes and
mission of universal art.

Ab an author, Mr. Marsh has done but little in extent, but
enough to secure a seat beside such men as Edward Everett,
with whom he has been compared. He has published (among
his numerous things of the kind) a pamphlet, entitled " The
Goths in New England," which is a fine specimen of chaste
writing and beautiful thought ; also another on the '' History
of the Mechanic Arts," which contains a great deal of rare
and important information. He has also written an '' Icelandic
Grammar," which created quite a sensation among the learned
of Europe a few years ago. As to his scholarship — it can be
said of him that he is a master in some twelve of the principal
modern and ancient languages. He has not learned them
merely for the purpose of being considered a literary prodigy,
but to multiply his means of acquiring information, which in-
formation is intended to accomplish some substantial end. He
is not a visionary, but a devoted lover of truth, whether it be
in History, Poetry, or the Arts.

t\ jWMwiJL. f

■vi'V ''■• '?(;>

n^'i •!)

ti.i i

<»1

uri

THE GREEN AND WHITE MOUNTAINS.

(•; !>.,

Thrbe loud knocks upon my bed-room door awakened me
from a "a deep dream of peace." "The Eastern stage is
ready/' said my landlord, as he handed me a light. Where-
upon, in less than five minutes after the hour of three, I was on
my way to the White Mountains, inditing on the tablet of my
memory the following disjointed stage-coach rhapsody.

A fine coach, fourteen passengers, and six superb horses.
My seat is on the outside, and my eyes on the alert for any-
thing of peculiar interest which I may meet with in my jour-
ney. Now do the beautiful Green Mountains meet my view.
The day is breaking, and lo ! upon either side of me, and like
two leaders of an army, rise the peaks of Mansfield Mountain
and the Camel's Hump. Aro thp former the cloud-spirits
of early morning are picturing i'antastic poetry of the sky ;
while just above the summit of "the other may be seen the new
moon and the morning st(*r, waiting for the sun to come, like
two sweet humadftisters for the smiles and* kisses of a returning
father. And now, as the sunbeams glide along the earth, wc
are in the solitude of the mountains, and the awakened mist-
creatures are ascending fron> the cool and shady nooks in the
deep ravines.

Young Dana's description of a ship under full sail is very
fine, but it does not possess the living beauty of the picture now
before me, — those six bay horses, straining every nerve to eclipse
the morning breeze. Hold your breath, for the road is4ard
and smooth as marble, and the extended nostrils of those match-
less steeds speak of a noble pride within. There, tht race is

THE aREEN AND WHITE MOUNTAINS.

245

done, the victory theirs^ and now, as they trot steadily along,
what music in the champing of th^ir bits, and the striking of
those iron-bound hoofs ! Of all the soul-stirring animals on
earth, none do I love sd dearly as the horse, and I sometimes
am inclined to think that they have souls. I respect a noble
horse more than I do some men. Horses are the Indian chiefs
of the brute creation.

The Winooski, along whose banks runs the most picturesque
stage route in Vermont, is an uncommonly interesting stream,
rapid, clear, and cold. It is remarkable for its falls and narrow
passes, ^where perpendicular rocks of a hundred feet or more
frown upon its solitary pools. Its chief pictorial attraction is
the cataract at Warterbury, a deep and jagged chasm in the
granite mountain, whose horrors are greatly increased by the
sight and smothered howl of an avalanche of pure white foam.
On its banks and forty miles from its outlet near Burlington,
is situated Montpelier, the capital of Vermont. It is a com-
pact town, mostly built upon two streets, and completely hemmed
in by rich and cultivated mountains. Its chief attraction, to
my mind, however, during my short stay, was a pair of deep
black eyes, only half visible under their drooping lids.

During one of my rambles near Montpelier, I discovered an
isolated and abandoned dwelling, which stands upon a little plot
of green, in the lap of the forest near the top oi a mountain. I
entered its deserted chambers and spent a long time musing
upon its admonitions. The cellar had become the home of liz-
ards and toads. The spider and crickist were masters of the
hearth, where once had been spun the mountain legend by an
old man to the only child of his widowed son. They were, as I
am told, the last of a long line which once flourished in Britain,
and with them their name would pass into forgetfulness. Only
the years of a single generation have elapsed since then, but
the dwellers of yonder mountain are sleeping in the grave. And
is this passing record of their existence the only inheritance
they have left behind ? Most true ; but would it have been
better for them, or for us, had they bequeathed to the world a
noted name or immense possessions ?

m''%

;i||| il

A, ; Jin|,i1 iff

fm¥mM
ti^

i;'ri

fv\

246

THE GREEN AND WHITE MOUNTAINS.

!>?Iv!>''^*ii'J^^'i

The route between Montpelier and Danville lies along the
Winooski, and is not less beautiful than that down the river.
Its chief picture is Marsh£(eld Waterfall. While at Montpelier
a pleasure ride was got up by some of my friends, and as they
were bound to the East, and I was honored with an invitation,
I sent on my baggage and joined them, so that the monotony
of my journey was considerably relieved. We had our fishing-
rods with us, and having stopped at the fall, we caught a fine
mess of trout, which we had cooked for dinner at the next tav-
ern on our way, — and our dessert consisted of fine singing from
the ladies, and good stories from the lips of Senator J'helps,
who was of the party, and is celebrated for his conversational
powers.

At cock-crowing this morning, I was again in my seat outside
of the stage-coach, anxiously waiting for the mists to evaporate
in the East. The sun proved to be my friend, and as soon as
he appeared, they vanished like a frightened troop, and he waa
soon marching up the sky in the plenitude of his glory. And
then, for the first time, did my vision rest upon the White
Mountains, as they reposed in the distance, like a mighty herd
of camels in the solitude of the desert. In the charming valley
of the Connecticut river we tarried a short time, but long enough
for me to hear the mower whet his scythe, the " lark sing loud
and high," and the pleasant tinkle of a cow-bell far away in
the broad meadow. While there I took a sketch, wherein I in-
troduced the father of New England rivers, and the bald peak
of Mount Lafayette, with the storm-inflicted scar upon its brow.
A noble monument is yonder mountain to the memory of u
noble man.

While breakfasting at Littleton, this morning, I came to the
conclusion to leave my baggage and visit Franconia. I jumped
into the stage, and after a very pleasant ride of seventeen miles,
found myself far into the Notch, in the midst of whose scenery
I spent the night. I reached here in time to enjoy an early
dinner with " mine host ;" after which I sallied forth to exam-
ine the wonders of the place, but I was so delighted with every-
thing around that I did not take time to make a single skctcli.

THE QREEN AND WHITE MOUNTAINS.

247

I saw the Flume, and was astonished. It is a chasm in the
mountain, thirty feet wide, about a hundred deep, and some
two thousand long, and as regular in its shape as if it had been
cut by the hand of man. Bridging its centre is a rock of many
tons weight, which one would suppose could only have been
hurled there from the heavens. Through its centre flows a
little brook, which soon passes over a succession of rocky slides,
which arc almost as smooth and white as marble. And to cap
the olinax, this Flume is the centre of as perfect and shadowy
a wilderness of scenery as could be imagined.

I have also seen (what should be the pride of the Merrimack,
as it IS upon one of its tributaries,) the most superb pool in this
whole country. The fall above it is not remarkable, but the
forest-covered rocks on either side, and the pool itself are won-
derfully fine, the waters cold as ice, and very clear. The pool
forms a circle of about one hundred feet in diameter, and is
said to be fifty feet in depth. Owing to the fall it is the "head
quarters" of the trout, which are found all along the stream in
great abundance. After I had completed a drawing, I laid
aside my pencils and fixed my fishing-rod. I threw the line
about two hours, and caught forty-five trout. Among them
was the great-grandfather of all trout, as I thought at the time,
for he was seventeen inches long, and weighed two pounds.

The Old Man of the Mountain is another of the lions of this
place. It is a cone-shaped mountain, at the foot of which is a
small lake, and upon whose top arc some rocks, which have a
resemblance to the profile of an old man. It is really a very
curious affair. There the old fellow stands, as he has stood
perhaps for centuries, " looking the whole world in the face."
I wonder if the thunder never frightens him ! and does the
lightning play around his brow without making him wink ?
His business there, I suppose, is to protect the "ungranted
lands" of New Hampshire. It is not to be wondered at, that
the aborigines looked upon this huge image with veneration and
awe, believing it to be endowed with Omnipotent power.

And another cu' iosity which everybody goes to see, is called
the Basin — an exquisite little spot — fit for the abode of a water-

i'~i

t^*}

248

THE QREUN AND WHITE MOUNTAINS.

' %'<^r

,^^.

liilil'

4i •-f;i*

n-''^' '

sprite. It is formed in the solid rock, and though twenty feet
in depth, you can see a sixpence at the bottom.

The distance from Knight's tavern to the western outlet of
Franconia Notch is eight miles. The eastern stage was to pass
through in the afternoon, so that after eating my breakfast I
started on, intending to enjoy a walk between the mountains.
Now as I sat upon a stone to sketch a mass of foliage, a little
red squirrel came within five feet of me, and commenced a ter-
rible chattering, as if his lady-love had given him the "mitten,"
and he was blowing out against the whole female sex ; and now
an old partridge with a score of children came tripping along
the shadowy road, almost within my reach, and so fearless of
my presence, that I would not have harmed one of them for a
crown. Both of them were exceedingly simple pictures, and
yet they afforded me a world of pleasure. I thought of the
favorite haunts of tbese dear creatures, — the hollow tree, — the
bed of dry leaves, — the cool spring, — the mossy yellow log, —
the rocky ledges overgrown with moss, — the gurgling brooklet
stealing through the trees, with its fairy water-falls in a green
shadow and its spots of vivid sunlight, — and of a thousand
other kindred gems in the wonderful gallery of Nature. And
now as I walked onward, peering into the gloomy recesses of
the forest on either side, or fixed my eyes upon the blue sky
with a/ew white clouds floating, in their glory, maoy of my
favorite songs were remembered, and in a style peculiarly my
own, I poured them upon the air, and tlfey were prolonged by
the mountain echoes. As I looked through the opening trees,
i saw an eagle floating above the sui imit of a mighty cliff, —
now, with the speed of a falling star, descending far into the
leafy depths, and then, slowly but surely ascending, until hidden
from view by a passing cloud. Fly on, proud bird, thought I,
glorious symbol of my country's freedom ! What a splendid
life is thine ! Thou art the "sultan of tho sky," and from thy
craggy home for ever lookest upon the abodes of man with in-
difference and scorn. The war-whoop of the savage, the roar
of artillery on the bloody battle-field, and the loud boom of the
ocean cannon, have fallen upon thy ear, and thou hast lis-

THE ORGEX AND WHITE MOUNTAINS.

249

tcned, utterly heedless as to whom belonged the victory. What
strength and power are in thy pinions ! traversing in an hour
a wider space

" Than yonder gallant ship, with all her sails
Wooing the winds, can cross from morn till eve !"

When thy hunger-shriek echoes through the wilderness, with
terror does the wild animal seek his den, for thy talons are of
iron and thine eyes of fire. But what is thy message to the
sun ? for far, far into the zenith art thou gone.

My thoughts were upon the earth once more, and my feet
upon a hill out of the woods, whence might be seen the broad
valley of the Amonoosack melting into that of the Connecticut.
Long and intently did I gaze upon the landscape, with its un-
numbered farm-houses, reposing in the sunlight, and surmounted
by pyramids of light-blue smoke ; and also upon the cattle lit-
erally grazing on a thousand hills. Presently I heard the
rattling wheels of the stage-coach, — one more look over the
charming valley, — and I was in my seat beside the coachman.

Away, away — thoughts of the human world ! for I am enter-
ing the heart of the White Mountains. Ah me ! how can I
describe these glorious hierarchs of New England ! How
solemnly do they raise their rugged peaks to Heaven ! ^'v jy,-,
in token of their royalty, crowned with a diadem of cloudt, ;
and now with every one of their cliffs gleaming in the sunlight
like the pictures of a dream ! For ages have they held com-
munion with the mysteries of the midnight sky. The earliest
beams of the morning have bathed them in living light, and
theirs, too, have beon the kisses of departing day. Man and
his empires have arisen and decayed ; but they have remained
unchanged, a perpetual mockery. Upon their summits Time
has never claimed dominion. There, as of old, does the eagle
teach her brood to fly, and there does the wild bear prowl after
his pre^. There do the waterfalls still leap and shout on their
way to the dells below, even as when the tired Indian hunter,
some hundred ages agone, bent him to quaff the liquid element.
There, still, does the rank grass rustle in the breeze, and the

■ #.'4''

250

THE OREEN AND WHITE MOUNTAINS.

pine and cedar and hemlock take part in the howling of the
gale. Upon man alone falls the curse of time ; Nature has
never sinned, therefore is her glory immortal.

As is well known, the highest of these mountains was chris-
tened after our heloved Washington, and with it, as with him,
are associated the names of Jefferson, Madison and Adams. Its
height is said to be six thousand and eight hundred feet above
the sea, but owing to its situation in the centre of a brotherhood
of hills, it does not appear to bo so grand an object as South
Peak Mountain among the Catskills. Its summit, like most of
its companions, is destitute of vegetation, and therefore more
desolate and monotonous. It is somewhat of an undertaking
to ascend Mount Washington, though the trip is performed on
horseback ; but if the weather is clear, the traveller will be well
repaid for his labor. The painter will be pleased with the views
he may command in ascending the route from Crawford's, which
abounds in the wildest and most diversified charms of mountain
scenery. But the prospect from the summit of Washington
will mostly excite the soul of the poet. Not so much on ac-
count of what he will behold, but for the breathless feeling
which will make him deem himself for a moment superior to the
clogs of humanity. And there, more than ever, if a Christian,
will he desire to be alone, so as to breathe an appropriate
prayer.

I spent a night upon this mountain, and my first view of the
prospect was at the break of day, when, as Milton says,

-morn her rosy steps in the eastern clime

ami,

Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearls,"

" Waked by the circling hours with rosy hand
Unbarred the gates of light,"

or when, in the language of Shakspeare,

" The gray-eyed morn smiled on the frowning night,
Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light,"

Wonderfully vast and strangely indistinct and dreamy was

THE GREEN AND WHITE MOUNTAINS.

251

the scene spread out on every side. To the west lay the superb
Connecticut, with its fertile valley reposing in the gloom of
night, while to the east, the ocean-bounded prospect, just burst-
ing into the life of light, was faintly relieved by Winnipiseogee
and Sebago lakes, and like rockets along the earth, wandered
away the Merrimack, the Saco and the Androscoggin, to their
ocean home, — the whole forming an epic landscape, such as we
seldom behold excepting in our sleep. With what exquisite de-
light did I gaze upon the scene, as in the eyes of truth and
fancy it expanded before my mind. Far away, in one of a
hundred villages, a young wife, with her first-born child at her
side, was in the midst of her morning dream ; and there, the
pilgrim of four-score years was lying on his couch in a fitful
slumber, as the pains of age creeped through his frame. There,
on the Atlantic shore, the fisherman in the sheltering bay,
hoisted anchor and spread his sail for the sea ; — and there thq
life-star of the lighthouse was extinguished, again at its stated
time to appear with increased brilliancy. In reality, there was
an ocean of mountains all around me ; but in the dim light of
the hour, and as I looked down upon them, it seemed to me
that I stood in the centre of a plain, boundless as the world ;
and though I could not see them, I felt that I was in a region
of spirits, and that the summit of the mount was holy ground.
But the morning was advancing, the rising mists obscured my
vision, and, as I did not wish to have that day-break picture
dissipated from my mind, I mounted my faithful horse, and de-
scended the mountain.

The ride from the Notch House, kept by the celebrated
hunter, Ethan Allen Crawford, through the Notch Valley, some
twelve miles long, is magnificent. First is the Gap itself, only
some twenty feet in width, and overhung with lofty and jagged
rocks ; and then the tiny spring, alive with trout, which gives
birth to the untamed Saco. A few more downward steps, and
you are in full view of a bluff, whose storm-scathed brow seems
to prop the very heavens, — its gray shadows strongly contrast-
ing with the deep blue sky. A little further on, and you find
yourself in an amphitheatre of mountains, whose summits and

'K m

'^u

252

THE GREEN AND WHITE MOUNTAINS.

.'■I..^^f^-

m&'^'

'^n

sides are barren and desolate, where the storms of a thousand
years have exhausted their fnrj. And then yon cross the little
brook, where a poor girl, named Nancy, once perished in the
snow, while attempting to follow her faithless swain. Down-
ward still and further on, and you come to the memorable
Wiley cottage, whose inhabitants perished in the avalanche or
slide of 18226. The storm had been unceasing for some days
upon the surrounding country, and the dwellers of the cottage
were startled at midnight by the falling earth. They fled —
and were buried in an instant, and up to the present time, only
one of the seven bodies has ever been found. As it then stood,

the dwelling still stands a monument of mysterious

escape. The Saco river, which runs through the valley, was
lifted from its original bed, and forced into a new channel. The
whole place, which but a short time before was a " beautiful
and verdant opening amid the surrounding rudeness and deep
shadow, is now like a stretch of desolate sea-shore after a tem-
pest, — full of wrecks, buried in sand and rocks, crushed and
ground to atoms."

And now for a few words about the hunter Crawford, or
" Ethan of the Hills," as he is often called. He was born in
Vermont in 1792, in a log cabin, and of poor but respectable
parents. He obtained the rudiments of an English education
by attending a district school in winter, for which privilege
he toiled both early and late at some mechanical employment.
He spent his boyhood among the White Hills, and by every
kind of hardship and exposure fortified his constitution. In
1811 he enlisted as a soldier, under Captain Stark, and went
to Plattsburgh, which patriotic demonstration only ended in his
getting the spotted fever. In 1814 he was one of three men
who cut a road through a continuous forest in the State of New
York, which was sixteen feet wide and eight miles long. His
bodily strength at that time wa« so great, that he could carry the
weight upon his back of five hundred pounds. While yet a very
young man, the entire care of his father and family devolved
upon him, and in spite of many calamities by fire and flood, he
proved himself a dutiful, faithful and heroic son. He was

THE GREEN AND WHITE MOUNTAINS.

268

the first man who attempted to live in the heart of the White
Hills by the arts of husbandry, but upon his character of yeo-
man he engrafted a thorough knowledge of wood craft, until
the wild life of the huntsman became his second nature. The
mountains were his home, and with their grand scenery and
wild animals, he was perfectly acquainted, and when the lovers
of nature from far o£f towns began to visit the region, Ethan of
the Hills was necessarily their guide. As travel increased, he
converted his private log cabin into a rude but comfortable
house of entertainment, until it was as much a matter of course
to see and know the man of the mountains* as the mountains
themselves. When not employed as a guide, or kept at home
by his duties as landlord, he followed the business of teamster
on the road leading from the Notch to Portland, but his favorite
pursuits were trapping and hunting, — for in those days the deer
and the moose, the bear, the wolf, the black cat, the fisher and
the sable, were quite abundant among the Hills. That the life
of such a man, exposed to frequent storms, and to hardships
without number, was full of romantic incident, cannot be ques-
tioned, and a record of his exploits would read like a book of
wonders. He it was, moreover, who opened the first road to
the top of Mount Washington, and the first stone cabin, and
the first marquee, raised upon its summit, were the fruits of his
enterprise. Among the many men whom it was ♦his privilege
to pilot to the top of Mount Washington, were James Kent and
Daniel Webster, and the most elevated speech which the latter
gentleman ever delivered, was uttered upon the summit of
Mount Washington, and was reported by "Ethan of the Hills"
as follows : •

"Mount Washington, I have come a long distance, have
toiled hard to arrive at your summit, and now you seem to give
me a cold reception, for which I am extremely sorry, as I shall
not have time enough to view this grand prospect which now
lies before me, and nothing prevents but the uncomfortable
atmosphere in which you reside."

But tired of the perpetual gloom among these grand old hills,
I must retrace my course to a less dreary country. My last

^'-x, <r4' *"

^'<^: [^Mm

i&nZ

254

THE GREEN AND WHITE MOUNTAINS.

view of Mount Washington and its lordly companions was the
most beautiful. The sun was near his setting, and the whole
sky was covered with a glow of richest yellow and crimson,
while there floated two immense copper-colored clouds, just
touching the outline of the mountains ; and through the hazy
atmosphere, the mountains themselves looked cloud-like, but
with more of the bright blue of heaven upon them. In the
extensive middle distance faded away wood-crowned hills ; and
in the foreground reposed an exquisite little farm, with the hus-
bandman's happy abode, almost hidden by groups of elms ; and
the simple figures, bnly a few paces oif, of a little girl sitting on
a stone, with a bunch of summer flowers in her hand, and a
basket of berries and a dog at her side. One more yearning
gaze upon the dear old mountains, and I resumed my pilgrim-
age towards the north. ^.v ji-»*.»is'i' '^

NOTE.
The foregoing, like the rest of this portion of my work, was written in 1847'
A recent visit to this attractive region enables me to record a few additional
particulars. By far the most imposing view of the White Mountains is to bu
obtained from the valley of the Peabody River, and what is more, from the
piazza of one of the largest and most truly comfortable and cheerful public
houses in the whole country — the Glen House. Indeed, the attractions of
this Hotel are remarkable. A railroad passes within seven miles of it, and it
may be reached in one day from Boston ; the stage roads all around it, as
well as the sta^s, are of the best quality ; — a drive or walk, therefrom, of
thirty minutes, will take you to a score or two of very beautiful water-falls .
the distance from this house to the summit of Mount Washington, is shorter
than from any other house, and very much more interesting, — being only
seven miles, one half of which can be perfcrrmed in a wagon. The best of
trout fishing may bo found in every direction in its vicinity ; and it is the only
place where tourists can beTurnished with experienced guides to Tuckerman's
Ravine, where the clift's are more imposing than elsewhere among these
mountains, and where, in the hottest months, the explorer may ei^oy his
lunch or cigar under an arch of the purest auow.

. \ '

$m^,

;, i'.i :

MONTREAL.

JM^

5,.- ^--

.'i

i-^iiir

> ■ . ' ' '

r^m-

, ^ -.

ii^j^f'

i:-rt

With some things in Montreal I have been pleased, but with
others a good deal dissatisfied. The appearance which it pre-
sents from every point of view is imposing. Its numerous
church towers and extensive blocks of stores, its extensive ship-
ping and noble stone wharves, combine to give one an idea of
great wealth and liberality. On first riding to my hotel I Avas
struck with the cleanliness of its streets, and, on being shown
to my room, I was convinced that the hotel itself was of the
first water. The city abounds in public buildings, which are
usually built of limestone, and it extends along the river St.
Lawrence about three miles. The streets, in the older parts
of the town, are as picturesque and narrow as those of the more
ancient cities of the old World, but in the modern portions they
are quite regular and comfortable. The principal street is
Notre Dame, which always presents, on a pleasant day, a gay,
and elegant appearance.

Generally speaking, its churches are below mediocrity, but
it has one architectural lion worth mentioning — the Roman
' Catholic cathedral. It faces a square called Place d'Armes,
and presents an imposing appearance. It is built of stone, and
said to be after the Norman-Gothic order of architecture ; but
I should think it a mixture of a dozen dis-ordera. Its extreme
length is 225 fee^, breadth 135, and its height 72 feet. It also
has two towers, which measure 220 feet to their summit. The
windows in these towers are closed with coarse boards, and yet
it cost $400,000. The ground floor is covered with pews
capable of seating 8000 people, while the aisles and galleries

■ 'km

lil

'it

iVi.

256

MONTREAL.

might hold 2000 more. The galleries are supported by wooden
pillars, which remind me of a New York barber's sign. The
interior has a naked and doleful appearance ; the large window
above the altar is wretchedly painted ; the altar itself is loaded
with gew-gaws ; and of the many paintings which meet you in
every direction there is not one for which I would pay ten dol-
lars. The organ resembles a bird house, and the music perpe-
trated there every day in the year, would jar upon the ear of
even an American Indian. And when it is remembered that
this Church was built by one of the wealthiest corporations on
the Continent, it is utterly impossible to entertain a feeling of
charity towards the founders thereof.

The«population of Montreal is now estimated at forty thou-
sand, one-half of whom are Roman Catholics, one fourth Pro-
testants, and the remainder nothing in particular. By this
statement it will be readily seen that the establishments of the
Catholics must be the most abundant. Nunneries are conse-
quently quite numerous, some of them well endowed, and, to
thoso who have a passion for such affairs, must be exceedingly
interesting.

But I wish to mention one or two additional specimens of
architecture. The market of Montreal is built of stone, located
near the river, and remarkably spacious and convenient in nil
its arrangements. It eclipses anything of the kind that we
can boast of in the States. The only monument of any note in
the city is a Doric column, surmounted with a statue, and
erected in honor of Lord Nelson. The entire column is seventy
feet high, and gives an air of elegance to that portion of Notre
Dame where it stands. On the four sides of the pedestals are
pictorial representations, in alto relievo, of Nelson in some of
his memorable battles. It was erected by the British inhabi-
tants of Montreal at a cost of six thousand dollars.

One of the most striking peculiarities of this city is the fact
that everybody has to live, walk and sleep at the point of a
bayonet. Military quarters are stationed in various portions
of the city, and soldiers meet you at every corner, marching to
und fro, invariably puffed 'up with ignorance and vanity. The

'ii'^|li,,.v;r,|*!^

MONTREAL.

267

last woman, I am sorry to say, who has become an outcast from
society, attributes her misfortune to a soldier ; the officers, how-
ever, who rule these military slaves, are, generally, well educa-
ted and agreeable gentlemen. But these are not without their
faults, aftd, if I might be allowed the expression, I would add,
that they appear supremely ridiculous whenever they march
into a church, on the Sabbath, with their swords dangling be-
tween their legs, and looking down upon the praying congre-
gation in all the " pomp and circumstance of war."

The people whom you meet in the streets of Montreal seem
to come from almost every nation in the world. Now it may
be the immensely pompous Englishman, who represents some
wilderness district in Parliament ; and now it may be the cun-
ning Scotchman, or a half-famished Irishman. Sometimes it is
the speculating American, or the humble and industrious Jew ;
the gay and polite Habitan, or a group of wandering Indians
from the far north. The better class of Montreal people (so
called by a fashionable world,) are the British settlers, or rather
the English population. Generally speaking, they are highly
intelligent, and somewhat arbitrary in expressing their opinions ;
but they entertain hospitable feelings towards strangers. They
boast of their mother country, as if her glory and poAver were
omnipotent ; and an occasional individual may bo found who will
not scruple to insult an American if he happens to defend hia
own. In religion they are generally Episcopalians ; they hate
the Habitan, look with contempt upon tho poor Irish, and ad-
dress their brethren of Scotland with a patronizing air. They
drink immense quantities of wine, and those who happen to be
the illiterate members of tho Provincial Parliament, think them-
selves the greatest people on earth.

The island upon wliich Montreal is located, is seventy miles
in circumference, and was once (if not now,) the property of an
order of Catholic priesthood. In the rear of the city rises a
noble hill, called Mount Royal, from which it derives its name.
Its ancient Indian name was Hochelaga, which it parted with
at the time of its discovery in 1536. The hill itself is thickly
wooded ; but tho surrounding country is exceedingly fortilo, and
17

Wr ■ "

■ifttil'

258

MONTRBAL.

( \'.

studded with elegant country-seats, and the rural abodes of the
peasantry. A ride around the Mount, on a pleasant day, is
one of the most delightful imaginable, commanding a view of
Montreal and the St. Lawrence Valley.

To appreciate the unique features of Montreal, it^s neces-
sary to say that you should be there on the Sabbath, the gala-
day of the Catholics. Then it is that the peasantry flock into
the city from all directions, and, when they are pouring into
the huge cathedral by thousands, dressed in a thousand fantas-
tic fa&hions, cracking their jokes, and laughing as they move
along, the entire scene is apt to fill one with peculiar feelings.
It was beautiful to look at ; but the thought struck me that I
should hate to live in the shadow of that cathedral forever.
But if you chance to take a walk in the suburbs, on a Sabbath
afternoon, you will notice much that cannot but afford you real
satisfaction. You will find almost every cottage a fit subject for
a picture ; and the flocks of neatly dressed, happy and polite
children playing along the roads, together with frequent groups
of sober men, sitting on a porch, and the occasional image of a
beautiful girl, or contented mother leaning out of a window, —
all these things, I say, constitute a charm which is not met with
everywhere. But enough ; Montreal is a fine city, and I trust
that it will yet be my fortune to visit it again and see more of its
polished society.

. I

'\i\

t*i^:i

QUEBEC.

I CAME from Montreal to this city in the day time, and, con-
sequently, had an opportunity of examining this portion of the
St. Lawrence. The river opposite Montreal runs at the rate of
six miles an hour, and is two miles wide ; it preserves this
breadth for ahout sixty miles, and then expands into the beau-
tiful and emerald-looking lake of St. Peter, after which it varies
from one to five in width until it reaches Quebec, which is dis-
tant from Montreal one hundred and eighty miles. Above St.
Peter the shores vary from five to fifteen feet in height, but be-
low the lake they gradually become more elevated until they
measure some three hundred feet in the vicinity of Quebec.
The country between the two Canadian cities is well cultivated
and on either side may be seen a continued succession of rural
cottages.

Our steamer approached Quebec at the sunset hour, and I
must say that I have never witnessed a more superb prospect
tlian was presented by the lofty citadel city, the contracted St.
Lawrence, the opposite headland called Point Levi, and the far
distant land which I knew to be Cape Tourment. A stiff
breeze was blowing at the time, and some twenty ships were
sailing to and fro, while we had to make our way into port by
winding between and around some three hundred ships which
were at anchor.

I have seen much in this goodly city which has made a deep
impression on my mind. The promontory called Capo Dia-
mond upon which it stands, is formed by the junction of the
St. Charles and St. Lawrence rivers, and rises to the height of

%''M:

260

QUEBEC.

Ff'^''

B^::'.

three hundred and fifty feet above the water. The city is built
from the water's edge along the base of the cliff, and from
thence, in a circuitous manner, ascends to the very border of
the citadel and ramparts. There is but one street leading
from the lower to the upper town, and that is narrow and very
steep, and the gateway is defended by a number of large can-
non. The city is remarkably irregular, and, as many of the
buildings are quite ancient, its appearance is picturesque and
romantic. The fortifications cover an area of forty acres, and
beneath them are many spacious and gloomy vaults for the re-
ception of ammunition and stores during a time of war. Re-
ceding into the interior, from the very brow of the fortress,
are the Pla.ins of Abraham, which are covered with a rich
green sod, and planted with unnumbered cannon. Their his-
torical associations are numerous, and, as they would fill a
chapter in themselves, I will refrain from dwelling upon them,
at this time. Let it sufiice to remember, that Jacques Cartier
discovered this famous city on the 7th of September, 1535;
that its site was once occupied by an Indian village, called
Stadacona ; that it was laid out by Samuel Champlain on the
3d of July, 1608 ; and that the meaning of its present name is
supposed to be " the town at the narroto strait." Once the
seat of a French empire in the West, it is now a favorite for-
tress of England, second in point of strength only to Gibraltar,
and like its Spanish rival, has been lost and won by the blood
of gallant armies and of illustrious commanders.

The religious establishments of Quebec are quite numerous,
and belong mostly to the Roman Catholics : like those of Mon-
treal, they are quite ancient and well-endowed ; but they did
not interest me, and I am sure my description of them would
not interest my reader. As a matter of course, I visited the
French Cathedral. It seems to be as old as the hills, and yet
all the windows of the principal tower are roughly boarded up.
On entering the edifice, which is crowded with gilded orna-
ments, I could not fix my eye upon a single object which sug-
gested the idea of richness. The sculpture, the paintings, and
oven the gilding, are all without merit ; and what greatly added

QUEBEC.

261

to my disgust was, that I could not obtain a civil answer from
a single one of the many boorish men and boys who were fuss-
ing about the church.

In the front of an extensive promenade, just below the cita-
del, stands the monument erected to the memory of Montcalm
and Wolfe. The gentleman who contributed the largest sum
for its erection was Lord Dalhousie. It is a handsome obe-
lisk, and was designed by a military gentleman named Young.
The principal inscription on the column is characteristic of.
the English nation, and is what a shrewd Yankev would call
" a puflF of Dalhousie" — even though it be chiselled in Latin.
The annoying effect of this inscription, however, is counter-
acted by another, which is also in Latin, and very beautitful.
It was composed by J. C. Fisher, Esq., founder of the Quebec
Gazette, and is as follows :

" Military virtue gave them a common death,
History a common fame,
Posterity a common monument."

The Golden Dog is another curiosity which will attract the
attention of the visitor to Quebec. It is the figure of a dog,
rudely sculptured in relievo, and richly gilded, which stands
above the entrance of an ancient house, which was built by M.
Phillibert, a merchant of this city, in the time of M. Bigot,
the last intendant under the French government. Connected
with it is the following curious story, which I copy from an old
record : —

" M. Phillibert and the intendant were on bad terms, but,
under the system then existing, the merchant knew that it was
in vain for him to seek redress in the colony, and determining
at some future period to prefer his complaint in France, ho
contented himself with placing the figure of a sleeping dog, in
front of his house, with the following lines beneath it, in allu-
sion to his situation with his powerful enemy :

" Je suis un chion qui ronge I'os, ' ' ' '

En le rongeaiit je pronds mon repos — ^ , '

Un terme viondra qui n'est pas venu
Que je mordrai qui m'aura mordu."

.l"7f!

^i4

w ■

U< ■

'I -J'

m^i

262

QUEBEC.

■u

" This allegorical language was however, too plain for Mons.
Bigot to misunderstand it. A man so powerful, easily found
an instrument to avenge the insult, and M. Phillibert received,
as the reward of his verse, the sword of an officer of the garri-
son through his back, when descending the Lower Town Hill.
The murderer was permitted to leave the colony unmolested,
and was transferred to a regiment stationed in the East Indies.
Thither he was pursued by a brother of the deceased, who had
first sought him in Canada, when he arrived here to settle his
brother's affairs. The parties, it is related, met in the public
street of Pondicherry, drew their swords, and, after a severe
conflict, the assassin met a more honorable fate than his crime
deserved, and died by the hand of his antagonist."

I know not that there are any other curiosities in Quebec
really worth mentioning, and I willingly turn to its natural at-
tractions. The fortress itself is undoubtedly one of, if not the
most formidable on the continent ; but I fell in love with it on
account of its observatory/ features. To ramble over its com-
manding ramparts, without knowing, or caring to know a soli-
tary individual, has been to me an agreeable and unique source
of entertainment. At one time I leaned upon the balustrade,
and looked down upon the Lower Town. It was near the hour
of noon. Horses and carriages, men, women, and children,
were hurrying through the narrow streets, and ships were in
the docks discharging their cargoes. I looked dovvn upon all
these things at a single glance, and ycl the only noise I heard
was a hum of business. Even the loud clear shout of the
sailor, as he tugged away at the mast-head of his ship, could
hardly be heard stealing upward on the air. Doves were fly-
ing about, high above the roofs : but they were so far below
my point of vision, that I could not hear the beating of their
wings.

But the finest prospect that I have enjoyed in this city was
from the summit of the Signal House, which looms above the
citadel. I visited this spot just as the sun was setting, and
everything was enveloped in a golden atmosphere. Beneath
me lay the city, gradually lulling itself to repose ; on the west.

QUEBEC.

263

far as the eye could reach, faded away the vallej' of the upper
St. Lawrence; towards the north, winding its way between
high and well-cultivated hills, was the river St. Charles ; to-
wards the astward, rolling onwards, in its sublimity like an
ocean, across the continent, was the flood of the lower St. Law-
rence, whitened by more than 'v hundred sails ; and towards
the south reposed a picturesque co'intry of hills and dales, be-
yond which I could just discern some of the mountain peaks of
my own dear " Father Land." Strange and beautiful beyond
compare was the entire panorama, and how was its influence
tipon me deepened, as a strain of martial music broke upon the
silent air, and then melted into my very heart ! I knew not
whence it came, or who were the musicians, but I " blessed
them unaware," and as my vision again wandered over the far-
off hills, I was quite happy.

The population of Quebec is estimated at thirty thousand,
and the variety is as great as in Montreal. A large propor-
tion of the people whom you see parading the streets are
soldiers, and chief among them I would mention the Scotch
Highlanders, who arc a noble set of men, and dress in hand-
some style.

Quebec, upon the whole, is a remarkable place, and well
worth visiting. The environs of the city are also interesting,
and a ride to the Fall of Montmorency, seven miles down the
river, and back again by an interior road, will abundantly re-
pay the tourist for all the trouble and expense to which he may
bo subjected. The Montmorency, so called after a French
admiral of that name, is an inconsiderable stream, but having
made one leap of two hundred and twenty feet, is quite deserv-
ing of its reputation. The Falls of the Chaudifere, or Kettle
Falls, which are on the opposite shore of the St. Lawrence,
seven or eight miles above Quebec, ought also to be visited by
all lovers of the picturesque. In the deep seclusion of a thick
wood, and at a point seven hundred feet wide, the Chaudi^re
precipitates itself a hundred feet into a rocky and chaotic
basin, where, during the spring freshets, the roaring of the
waters and the fantastic clifis and ledges on either side, com-

A-t-H

f"l

pij^

1 ;i '

jMi||^;R

^J*

wjr'

Ha£ \^

!'T

vOKuihA 1

ll.

IGf

-ft'

264

QUEBEC.

m 'I

|!r|:

p-^".

bine to make* s. very deep impression on the mind. And the
traveller who would moralize upon the passing away of the
aborigines, ought not to omit a trip to the Indian village of
Larette, a few miles up the river St. Charles from Quebec,
where he can see a remnant of the once powerful nation after
which Lake Huron was named.

[rati

i ill I

Viit'ii-iislI.'S

DOWN THE ST. LAWRENCE.

r^lm

I HAVE not visited Canada for the purpose of examining its
cities, and studying the character of its people, but solely with
a view of hunting up some new scenery, and having a little
sport in the way of salmon fishing. I am writing this chapter
at the mouth of probably the most remarkable river in North
America. But before entering upon a description of my sojourn
here, it is meet, I ween, that I should give you an account of
my journey down the St. Lawrence.

On reaching Quebec, I was informed that there was no regu-
lar mode of conveyance down the great river, and that I should
have to take passage in a transient ship or schooner, which
would land me at my desired haven. This intelligence had a
tendency to dampen my spirits, and I had to content myself
with sauntering about the citadel city. Among the places I
visited was the fish market, where it was my good fortune to
find a small smack which had brought a load of fresh salmon to
market, and was on the point of returning to the Saguenay for
another cargo. In less than thirty minutes after I saw him, I
had struck a bargain with the skipper, transfeiTcd my luggage
on board the smack, and was on my way to a region which was
to me unknown.

We hoisted sail at twelve o'clock, and were favored by a stiff
westerly breeze. Everything, in fact, connected with the voy-
age was beautifully accidental, and I had ''a glorious time."
In the first place, our craft was just the thing — schooner-rigged,
a fast sailer, and perfectly safe. The skipper — named Belland
— was a warm-hearted and intelligent Frenchman, whose entire

^*1-' -'il

».! 1

■k ■ i •

f^ik

;/? t- i

•i|

51 '

266

DOWN THE ST. LAWRENCE.

crew consisted of one boy. The day was superb, and the
scenery of the river appeared to me more like the work of
enchantment than nature.

The appearance of Quebec, from the eastward, is imposing
in the extreme. Standing as it does upon a lofty bluff, its
massive ramparts and tin covered roofs, domes, and cupolas
suggest the idea of immense power and opulence. Just below
the city, the St. Lawrence spreads out to the width of three or
four miles, >vhile from the margin of either shore fades away u
continued succession of hills, which vary from five hundred to
fifteen hundred feet in height. Those upon the north shore are
the highest, and both sides of the river, for a distance of some
twenty miles below the city, are plentifully sprinkled with the
white cottages of the Canadian peasantry. As you proceed,
however, the river gradually wideni, the hills upon the north
shore become more lofty, reaching the elevation of two thousand
feet; and, while you only occasionally discover a farm house
upon their summits, the southern shore continues to bear the
appearance of a settled country, where the f^pire of a Catholic
church is frequently seen looming above a cluster of rural
residences. In descending the river, the first pictorial feature
which attracts attention is the fall of Montmorency, pouring
the waters of a noble tributary immediately into the St. Law-
rence. Just below this fall the river is divided by the island of
Orleans, which measures about twenty miles in length, and five
in breadth. It is partly covered with forest, and partly culti-
vated; and, though the shores are rather low, it contains a
number of points which are a hundred feet high. At the
eastern termination of this island is the purii^h of St. Lawrent,
a remarkably tidy French village, whose inhabitants are said to
be as simple in their manners, as they are virtuous, and ignorant
of the world at large. On a smaller island, which lies some
thirty miles below Quebec, and directly opposite a noble cape
called Tourment, is located the quarantine station for the ship-
ping of the river ; and when I passed this spot, I counted no
less than forty-five ships at anchor, nearly all of which were
freighted with foreign paupers, who were then dying of the

DOWN THE ST. LAWRENCE.

267

ship fever, at the rate of one hundred and fifty individuals per
day. I might here mention that the vessels usually seen on
this part of the St. Lawrence are merchant ships and hrigs,
which are chiefly and extensively employed in the lumber and
timber trade. Another island in this portion of the St. Law-
rence, which attracts attention from its peculiar sylvan beauty,
is called Goose Island, and owned by a sisterhood of Nuns, who
have cultivated it extensively. The eastern portion of it is
covered with forest ; the channels on either side are not far from
ten miles wide, and it is distant from Quebec about fifty miles.

We landed here at sunset ; and while my companions were
building a watch-fire, and cooking a supper of fish, pork and
onions, I amused myself by taking sundry observations. I
found the vegetation of the island quite luxuriant, the common
hard woods of the north prevailing, but its foundation seemed
to be composed of two distinct species of slate-stone. Both
varieties were of the finest grain, and while one was of the rich
Indian red, the other was of a deep blue. This portion of the
St. Lawrence is a good deal blocked up by extensive reefs,
composed of these identical slate-stones, and at one point they
extend so nearly across the river as to render ship navigation
extremely dangerous. On subsequently examining the high
hills on the north shore, I found them to be of solid granite,
veined with red marble and extensive beds of quartz, and cov-
ered with a stunted forest of pine and hemlock. But this geo-
logical dissertation is keeping my pen from describing a night
picture which it was my privilege to witness on this beautiful
but badly-named island, where, for sundry reasons, we con-
cluded to spend the night.

Our supper was ended, and the skipper had paid his last visit
to the little craft, and, with his boy, had smoked himself to
sleep by our o*mp fire. The sky was without a cloud, but
studded with stars^, and the breeze which kissed my cheek was
soft and • ieasant as the breath of one we dearly love. I had
seated myself upon a >ok, with my face turned towards the
north, when my attention was n tracted by a column of light,
which shot upward to the Boni*h behind the distant mountains.

$mm

,!I..

268

DOWN THE ST. LAWRENCE.

"^"''^pi

i: '"'"tit.'Si _

iS.

Utn

The broad expanse of the St. Lawrence was without a ripple,
and the mountains, together with the column of light and the
unnumbered stars, were distinctly mirrored in its bosom. While
looking upon this scene, the idea struck me that the moon was
about to rise, but I soon saw a crimson glow stealing up the
sky, and knew that I was looking upon the fantastic perform-
ances of the Northern Lights. Broad, and of the purest
white, were the many rays which shot upward from behind the
mountains, and at equal distances, between the horizon and the
zenith, were displayed four arches of a purple hue, the upper-
most one melting imperceptibly in the deep blue sky. On
again turning my eyes upward, I discovered that the columns
and arches had all disappeared, and that the entire sky was
covered with a crimson color, which resembled a lake of liquid
fire, tossed into innumerable waves. Strange were my feelings
as I looked upon this scene, and thought of the unknown wil-
<lerness before me, and of the Being whose ways are past find-
ing out, and who holdeth the entire world, with its cities, moun-
tains, rivers, and boundless wilderness, in the hollow of His
hand. Long and intently did I gaze upon this wonder of the
North ; and at the mement it was fading away, a wild swan
passed over my head, sailing towards Hudson's Bay, and as
his lonely song echoed along the silent air, I retraced my steps
to the watch-fire and was soon a dreamer.

That portion of the St. Lawrence extending between Goose
Island and ihe Saguenay is about twenty miles wide. The
spring tides rise and fall a distance of eighteen feet ; the water
is salt, but clear and cold, and the channel very deep. Here
it was that I first saw the black seal, the white porpoise, and
the black whale. But speaking of whales, reminds ihe of " a
whaling" fish story. A short distance above Saguenay river,
there shoots out into the St. Lawrence, to the distance of about
eight miles, a broad sand-bank, which greatly endangers the
navigation. In descending the great river, we had to double
this cape, and it was at this place that I first saw a whale. The
fellow had oeen pursued by a sword-fish, and ./hen we discov-
ered him, his head turned towards the beach, and he was mov-

moon was

DOWN THE ST. LAWRENCE.

269

ing with great rapidity, occasionally performing a most fearful
leap, and uttering a sound that resembled the bellowing of a
thousand bulls. The whale must have been forty feet long, and
his enemy nearly twenty ; and as they hurried on their course
with great speed, the sight was indeed terrible. Frantic with rage
and pain, it so happened that the more unwieldy individual for-
got his bearings, and in a very few minutes he was floundering
about on the sand-bar, in about ten feet of water, when the
rascally sword immediately beat a retreat. After a while, how-
ever, the whale concluded to rest himself, but as the tide was
going out, his intentions were toon changed, and he began to
roll himself about, and slap the water with his tail for the pur-
pose of getting clear. His efforts, in a short time, proved suc-
cessful, and when we last saw him, ho was in the deepest part
of the river, moving rapidly towards the gulf, and spouting
up the water, as if congratulating himself upon his narrow es-
cape. '

In about two hours after witnCoSing this incident, our boat
was moored at the mouth of the Saguenay ; and of the compa-
ratively unknown wilderness which this stream waters, my rea-
ders will find some information in the next chapter.*

* During the summer of 1852, I made a second visit to the River Sa-
guenay, accompanied by the Rev. Louis L. Noble and our wives. We
chartered a schooner at Quebec, and a charming account of our miscella-
neoug adventures was written by my friend, and published in the Litera-
11/ World, on our return.

fll

Hi )J

?. ■ ^ ,

THE SAGUENAY RIVER.

1 •!:"•?'' tti?cv,\

an**'

ij?>.

About one hundred and fifty miles north of the St. Law-
rence, and on one of the trails leading to Hudson's Bay, lies a
beautiful lake called St. John. It is about forty miles long,
and surrounded with a heavily timbered, and rather level coun-
try. Its inlets are numerous, and twelve of them are rivers.
Its waters are clear, and abound in a great variety of uncom-
monly fine fish. The principal outlet to this lake is the Sagiie-
nay River which runs in a southerly direction, and empties into
the St. Lawrence. It is the largest tributary of the great
river, and unquestionably one of the most remarkable on the
continent. Its original Indian name was Chicoutimi, signify-
ing deep water ; but the early Jesuit missionaries, who have
scattered their Saint-anic names over this entire country,
thought proper to give it the name which it now bears, the
roundabout interpretation of which is, No8e of the Sack. This
name suggests to the world that the nose of St. John must have
been a very long nose, and may be looked upon as a unique
specimen of French poetry.

The scenery of the Saguenay is wild and romantic to an un-
common degree. The first half of its course averages half a
mile in width, and runs through an untrodden wilderness of
pine and spruce-covered hills; it abounds in waterfalls and
rapids, and is only navigable for the Indian canoe. A few miles
below the most southern fall on the river, is located the village
of Chicoutimi, where an extensive lumber business is transacted,
and the Hudson's Bay Company have an important post. The
village has an ancient appearance, and contains about five hun-

THE RIVER SAGUENAT.

271

(Ired inhabitants, chiefly Canadian French. The only curiosity
in the place is a rude Catholic church, which is said to have been
built by Jesuit missionaries upwards of one hundred years ago.
It occupies the centre of a grassy lawn, surrounded with shrub-
bery, backed by a cluster of wood-crowned hills, and commands
a fine prospect, not only of the Saguenay, but also of a spa-
cious bay, into which there empties a noble mountain stream,
now known as Chicoutimi River. In the belfry of this venera-
ble church hangs a clear-toned bell, with an inscription upon it
which the learning of Canada (with all its learned and unnum-
bered priests,) has not yet been able to translate or expound.
But, great as is the mystery of this inscription, it is less mys-
terious to my mind than are the motives of the Romish Church
in planting the cross in the remotest corners of the earth, as
in the mightiest of cities.

About ten miles south of Chicoutimi, there recedes from the
west bank of the Saguenay, to the distance of ten miles, a beau-
tiful expanse of water called Grand Bay. The original name
of this water was "Ha, Ha," descriptive of the surprise which
the Frpnch experienced when they first entered it, supposing
that it was the Saguenay, until their shallop groundud on the
north-western shore. At the head thereof is another settle-
ment, similar to Chicoutimi. Between these two places the
Saguenay is rather shallow, (when compared with the remain-
der of its course,) and varies in width from two and a half to
three miles. The tides of the ocean are observable as far north
as Chicoutimi, and this entire section of the river is navigablo
for ships of the largest class.

That portion of the Saguenay extending from Grand Bay to
the St. Lawrence, a distance of sixty miles, is greatly distin-
guished for its wild and picturesque scenery. I know not that I
can better portray to my reader's mind the peculiarity of this
river, than by the following method. Imagine an extensive
country of rocky and thinly-clad mountains, suddenly separated
by some convulsion of nature, so as to form an almost bottom-
less chasm, varying from one to two miles in width; and then
imagine this chasm suddenly half-filled with water, and that

1 !4 ]

272

THE RIVER SAQUBNAY.

m.^M"'-:''ri

I-'''

i: !•

mmm

J' ^1

!'t

the moss of centuries has softened the rugged walls on either
side, and you will have a pretty accurate idea of the Saguenay.
The shores of this river are composed principally of granite,
and every bend presents you with an imposing bluff, the ma-
jority of which are eight hundred feet high, and many of tbem
upwards of fifteen hundred. And, generally speaking, these
towering bulwarks are not content to loom perpendicularly into
the air, but they must needs bend over, as if to look at their
own savage features reflected in the dcup. Ay, and that word
deep but tells the simple truth ; for the flood that rolls beneath
is fearfully black and cold. To speak without a figure, and
from actual measurement, I can state that many portions of the
Saguenay are one thousand feet deep; and the shallowest parts
not much less than one hundred. In many places, too, the
water is as deep five feet from the rocky barriers as it is in the
centre of the stream. The feelings which filled my breast, and
the thoughts which oppressed my bruin, as I paddled by these
places in my canoe, were allied to those which almost over-
whelmed me when I first looked upward from below the fall to
the mighty flood of Niagara. Awful beyond expression, I can
assure you, is the sensation which one experiences in sailing
along the Saguenay, to raise his eye heavenward, and behold
hanging, directly over bis head, a mass of granite, apparently
ready to totter and fall, and weighing, perhaps, a million tons.
Terrible and sublime, beyond the imagery of the most daring
poet, are these cliffs ; and while they proclaim the omnipotent
power of God, they, at the same time, whisper into the ear of
man that he is but the moth which flutters in the noontide air.
And yet, is it not enough to fill the heart of man with holy
pride and unbounded love, to remember that the soul within him
shall have but commenced its existence, when all these moun-
tains shall have been consumed as a scroll ?

It is to the Saguenay that I am indebted for a most imposing
storm picture. It had been an oppressive day, and, as I was
passing up the rivei', at a late hour in the afternoon, a sudden
gust of wind came rushing down the stream, causing my Indian
companion to bow, as if in prayer, and then to urge our frail

IS ■ 11

THE RIVER BAaUENAY.

273

canoe towards a little rocky island, upon which we immediately
landed. Soon as we had surmounted our refuge, the sky was
overcast with a ^all of blackness, which completely enveloped
the cliffs %n either side, and gave the roaring waters a deathl.ke
hue. Then broke forth, from above our heads, the heavy roar
of thunder, and as it gradually increased, and became more
threatening and impetuous, its volleys were answered by echoes,
which seemed to have been startled from every crag in the wil-
derness, while flashes of the most vivid lightning were con-
stantly illuminating the gloomy storm-cavern which appeared
before us. Down upon his knees again fell my poor Indian
comrade, and I sat by his side trembling with fear. Soon,
however, the wind ceased to blow, the thunder to roar, the
lightning to flash; and, in less than an hour after its com-
mencement the storm had subsided, and that portion of the
Saguenay was glowing beneath the crimson* rays of the setting
sun.

From what I have Avritten, my reader may be impressed Avith
the idea that this river is incapable of yielding pleasurable sen-
sations. Sail along its shores, on a pleasant day, when its cliffs
are partly hidden in shadow, and covered with a gauze-like at-
mosphere, and they will fill your heart with images of beauty.
Or, if you would enjoy a still greater variety, let your thoughts
flow away from the blue smoke which arises from an Indian
encampment hidden in a dreamy-looking cove ; let your eye fol-
low an eagle sweeping along liis airy pathway, near the summit
of the clifl's, or glance across the watery plain, and see the silver
salmon leaping by hundreds into the air, for their insect food.
Hero, too, you may always discover a number of seals, bobbing
their heads out of the water, as if watching your every move-
ment ; and, on the other hand, a drove of white porpoises, roll-
ing their huge bodies along the waters, ever and anon spouting
a shower of liquid diamonds into the air. O^ycs, manifold,
indeed, and beautiful beyond compare, are the charms of the
Saguenay.

Although my account of this river has, thus far, been of a
general character, I would not omit to mention, as stupendous
18

R-!

W,m

•Jff^l'

!■> /'ill

274

THE EIVER 8AGUENAT.

gems of scenery, Trinity Point, Eternity Cape, The Tableau,
and Le Tete du Boule. The peculiarities of these promontories
are so well described by their very names, that I shall refrain
from attempting a particular description. Eternity Gape is the
most imposing, and with it is associated this incident. An In-
dian hunter is said to have once followed a moose to the brow
of the cliff, and after the'deer had made a fatal spring far down
into the deep water, the man lost his foothold and perished
with his prey.

The wilderness through which this river runs is of such a
character that its shores can never be greatly changed in their
external appearance. Only a small proportion of its soil can
ever be brought under cultivation ; and, as its forests are a good
deal stunted, its lumbering resources are far from being inex-
haustible. The wealth which it contains is probably of a min-
eral character ; and if the reports I hear are correct, it abounds
in iron ore. That it would yield an abundance of fine marble,
I am certain ; for, in passing up this stream, the observing eye
will frequently fall upon a broad vein of an article as pure as
alabaster.

How is it, many people are led to inquire, that so little has
been known of the Saguenay country, until quite recently ? Tlie
question is easily solved. It is a portion of that vast territory
which has heretofore been under the jurisdiction of the Hud-
son's Bay Company. Its Posts on the Saguenay and St. Law-
rence, so far as collecting furs is concerned, are a dead letter,
and the journeys of its distinguislied Governor, Sir George
Simpson, are hereafter to be confined to the extreme north.

The man who deserves the most credit for encroaching upon
tho possessions of the Hudson's Bay Company, and proving to
the world that its power is not without limit, is William Price,
Esq., of Quebec. All the saw-mills located on tho Saguenay
and tho lower St. Lawrence were established by him, and arc
now conducted at his expense. He gives employment to some
two or three thousand iicn, and sends to England annually
about ono hundred ship-loads of lumber, in tho shape of deals.
He is probably more extensively engaged in the lumbering bu-

THE RIVER SAGUENAY.

276

ainess than any other single individual, and might with propri-
ety be called " The Lumber King." He is a thorough-going
business man, and, did I not know the fact to be otherwise, I
should set him down, on account of his enterprise, as a Yankee.
Many of .the ships alluded to ascend the Saguenay, to obtain
lumber, as far as Chicoutimi, and it struck me as singularly
paradoxical to see ships winding up that river, whose legitimate
home would seem to be the broad ocean. The current of the
Saguenay flows, in some places, at the rate of seven miles per
hour, but when there is any wind at all, it blows quite heavily
direct from the north or south, so that, with the assistance of
the tide, the upward-bound ships or brigs manage to get along
without much difficulty. The only steamboat Avhich navigates
this river is the Pocahontas, and is the property of Mr. Price.
She is commanded by a gentleman who understands his busi-
ness ; and I can assure the lovers of scenery everywhere that a
sail up the Saguenay, in this steamer, would be an event they
could not easily forget. For the benefit of summer-tourists, I
would here mention the fact, that, for about three months in
the year, a Qucbe.c steamer mako^ an occasional trip to the
mouth of the Saguenay, by way of the river Du Loup, which is
on the Canadian route to Halifax.

In speaking of the Saguenay, I must not omit to mention its
original proprietors, a tribe of Indians, who are known as the
Mountaineers. Of course it is the duty of my pen to record
the fact, that, whore onco flourished a large nation of li-ave
warriors, there now exists a little band of about ono hundred
liunilies. Judging from what I have heard and scon, the Moun-
taineers were onco the very flower of this northern wilderness,
oven as the Chippcwas were once the glory of the Lake Supe-
rior region. The Mountaineers of the present day arc suffi-
ciently educated to speak a smattering of French ; but they
know nothing of the true God, and aro as poor in spirit as they
aro indigent with regard to tho necessaries of life. The men
of this nation are rather short, but well-formed ; and tho women
arc beautiful. They are proud in spirit, intelligent, and kind-
hearted ; and mtiny of them, it is pleasant to know, are no longer

■'Ik.

276

THE RIVER SAQUENAT.

■ -^'i^-'fTJ;

the victims of the baneful " fire-water." For this blessing they
are indebted to the Romish priesthood, which fact I record with
great pleasure. The Mountaineers are a particularly hone'st
people, and great friends to the stranger white man. They are
also distinguished for their expertness in hunting, and take
pleasure in recounting the exploits of their forefathers. And
their language, according to a Catholic missionary, Pierre do
Roche, is one of the oldest and purest Indian languages on the
continent. It abounds in Latin words, and is capable oi being
regularly constructed and translated. The qualities, in fine,
which make the history of this people interesting, are manifold;
and it is sad to think of the rapidity with which they are wither-
ing away, even as the leaves of a premature autumn.

But it is time that I should give you a brief description of
Tadousac, where I have been spending a few days, and whence
I date my chapters. That name is a French corruption of the
Indian word Saguenay. The place is situated directly at the
mouth of the Saguenay, and commands a fine prospect of that
river, as well as of the St. Lawrence, which, at this point, is
nearly thirty miles in width. Immediately at the base of the
hill upon which the hamlet stands, is a beautiful bay, hemmed
in with hills of solid rock. The place is composed of liouses
belonging to an Indian trading-post, and another dwelling, occu-
pied by a worthy Scotchman, named Ovington, who is a pilot
by profession. The door of my friend's cabin is always open
to the admission of tourists ; and if others, who may chance to
stop here, are as kindly treated as I was, they cannot but be
thankful. In froiic of the trading-post are planted a few can-
non, and directly beside them, at the present time, is a small
Indian encampment. In a rock-bound bay, half a mile north
of my temporary residence, is an extensive lumbering estab-
lishment, belonging to William Price. This spot is the princi-
pal port of the Saguenay, and the one where belongs the Poca-
hontas steamboat. About a dozen paces from the table, where
I am now writing, is the ruin of a Jesuit religious establishment,
considered the great curiosity of this region. The appearance
of the ruin is not imposing^ as you can discover nothing but the

THE RIVER SAGUENAT.

277

foundations upon which the ancient edifice rested ; but it is con-
fidently affirmed that upon this spot once stood the first stone
and mortar building ever erected on the continent of America.
And this statement I am not disposed to question, for from the
very centre of the ruin has grown up a cluster of pine trees,
which must have been exposed to the wintry blasts of at least
two hundred years. The fate, and the very names of those who
first pitched their tents in this wilderness, and here erected an
altar to the God of their fathers, are alike unknown. Tadousac
is, indeed, at tha present time, nothing more than it was in
1720, when old Charlevoix spoke of it as follows : " The great-
est part of our geographers have placed a town here, but whBre
there never was but one French house and some huts of savages
who carried away their huts and booths, when they went away ;
and this was the whole matter. It is true, that this port has
beta a long time the resort of all the savage nations of the
north and east, and that the French resorted thither as soon as
the navigation was free ; the missionaries also made use of the
opportunity, and came to trade here for Heaven ; and wlien
the trade was over, the merchants returned to their homes, th6
savages took their way to their villages or forests, and the Gos-
pel laborers followed the last, to complete their instructions."

;<**♦•»

' ^u?>^ .JiJ

HUM

'^\.i^!

if !

!r -.iv ■ , ,:

SALMON FISHING ADVENTURES.

inU:

^\ .

Ok!

I INTEND to devote the present chapter to the acknowledged
king of all the finny tribes, the lithe, wild and beautiful sal-
mon, lie pays an annual visit to all the tributaries of the St.
Lawrence lying between Quebec and Blc Island, (where com-
mences the Gulf of St. Lawrence,) but he is most abundant on
the north shore, and in those streams which are beyond the
jurisdiction of civilization. He usually makes his first appear-
ance about the twentieth of May, and continues in season for
two 'months. Nearly all the streams in this region abound in
waterfalls, but those arc seldom found which the salmon docs
not surmount in his "excelsior" pilgrimage; and the stories
related of his leaps are truly wonderful. It is not often that
he is found, man bound at the head of the streams ho may have
ascended ; but when thus found and captured, his flesh is white,
skin black, and his form, " long, lank, and lean as is the rib-
bed sea-sand." His weight is commonly about fifteen pounds,
but he is sometimes taken weighing full forty pounds. The
salmon is an important article of export from this region, and
is also 'extensively used by the Indians. The common mode
for taking them is with a stationary net, which is set just on
the margin of the river, at low water. It is customary with
the salmon to ascend the St. Lawrence as near the shore as
possible, and their running time is when the tide is high ; the
consequence is, that they enter the net at one tide, and are taken
out at another; and it is frequently the case, .that upwards of
three hundred are taken at one time. The Indian mode for
taking them is with the spear, by torchlight. Two Indiane

/**fi:i,^.

SALMON FISHING ADVENTURES.

279

generally enter a canoe, and while one paddles it noiselessly
along, the other holds forth the light, (which attracts the at-
tention of the fish, and causes them to approach their enemy)
and pierces them with the cruel spear. This mode of taking
the salmon is to be deprecated ; but the savage must live, and
possesses no other means for catching them. It is but seldom
that an Indian takes more than a dozen during a single night,
for he cannot afford to waste the bounties which he receives
from Nature. For preserving the salmon, the Canadians have
three modes : — First, by putting them in salt for three days,
and then smoking them ; secondly, by regularly salting them
down as you would mackerel ; and, thirdly, by boiling and then
pickling them in vinegar. The Indians smoke them ; but only
to a limited extent.

I must now give you some account of my experience in the
way of salmon-fishing with the fly, of which glorious sport I
have recently bad an abundance. If, however, I should indite
a number of episodes, you will please remember that " it is my
way," and that I deem it a privilege of the angler to be as
wayward in his discourse as are the channels of his favorite
mountain streams. , ..

My first salmon expedition of the season was to the St. Mar-
garet River. I had two companions with mo ; one, an accom-
plished fly-fisher of Quebec, and the other, the principal man
of Tadousac, a lumber manufacturer. We went in a gig-boat
belonging to the latter, and, having started at nine o'clock, we
reached our place o^dcstination by twelve. We found the
river uncommonly high, and a little rily. Wo made a desperate
effort, however, and threw the line about three hours', captui*-
four salmon, only one of which it was my privilege to take.
He was a handsome fellow, weighing seventeen pounds, and in
good condition ; ho afforded my companions a good deal of fun,
and placed me in a peculiar situation. He had taken the hook
when I was wading in swift water up to my middle, and soon
as ho discovered his predicament, he made a sudden wheel, and
started down the stream. My rod bent nearly double, and I
saw that I must allow him all the line he wanted ; and l.'vving

■t >t

?;JaE

If^raji, ||i^

BjiK"^iffl

p^^

L txfiS

B«itijVi{yi|

I'-n

280

SALMON FISHINO ADVENTURES.

only three hundred feet on my reel, I found it necessary to
follow him with all speed. In doing so, I lost my footing, and
•was swept by the current against a pile of logs ; meantime my
reel was in the water, and whizzing away at a tremendous rate.
The log upon which I depended happened to be in a balancing
condition, and, when I attempted to surmount it, it plunged
into the current, and floated down the stream, having your hum-
ble servant astride of one end, and clinging to it with all his
might. Onward went the salmon, the log, and the fisherman.
Finally the log found its way into an eddy of the river, and,
while it was swinging about, as if out of mere deviltry, I left
it, and fortunately reached the shore. My Yih having been
spared, I was more anxious than ever to take the life of the
salmon which had caused my ducking, and so I held aloft the
rod, and continued down the stream, over an immense number
of logs and rocks, which seemed to have been placed there for
my especial botheration. On coming in sight of my fish, I
found him in still water, with his belly turned upward, and
completely drowned. I immediately drew him on a sand-bank
near by, and, while engaged in the reasonable employment of
drying ray clothes, my brother fishermen came up to congratu-
late me upon my success, but laughing, in the mean time, most
heartily. The lumber merchant said that the log I had been
riding belonged to him, and it was his intention to charge me
one shilling for my passage from the rift where I had hooked
the salmon, to the spot where I had landed him, which was in
full view of the Saguenay ; and my Quebec friend remarked,
that he knew the people of Yankee-land had a queer way of
doing things, but he was not acquainted with their peculiar
mode of taking salmon. As may be readily imagined, we re-
traced our steps back to the log shanty where we had stopped,
and, having carefully stowed away our salmon, we laid aside
our fishing tackle, and made arrangements for a little sport of
another kind.

The hamlet of St. Margaret, where we spent the night, con-
tains some eight or ten log shanties, which are occupied by
about twenty families, composed of Canadians, Indians, and

SALMON FISHmO ADVENTURES.

281

hitlf-breeds. They obtain their living by " driving" logs, and
are ap happy as they are ignorant. Anxious to see what we
could of society among this people, we sent forth a manifesto,
calling upon the citizens generally to attend a dance at the
cabin of a certain mau whom we had engaged to give the party,
at our expense. Punctual to the appointed hour, the assembly
came together. Many of the men did not take the trouble even
to wash their hands, or to put on a coat before coming to the
party ; but the women were neatly dressed with blue and scar-
let petticoats, over which were displayed night-gowns of white
cotton. The fiddler was an Indian, and the dancing hall (some
twelve feet square,) was lighted with a wooden lamp, supplied
with seal oil, The danc ■ was without any particular method;
and, when a gentleman trished to trip the light fantastic toe he
had only to station himself on the floor, when one of his friends
would select his partner, and lead her up for his acceptance.
The consequence was, that, if a man wished to dance with any
particular lady, he was obliged to make a previous arrangement
with his leading-up friend. The fiddler not only furnished • all
the music, but also jh ormcd a goodly portion of the dancing,
— fiddling and duncing at the same time. The suppcrwas laid
on the table at ten o'clock, and consisted principally of dried
beaver tail, and < uriboo meat, fried and boiled salmon, (which
was cooked out of doors, near the entrance to the cabin,) rye
bread, maple molasses, and tea.

The party broke up at twelve o'clock, when we retired, to the
cabin, where we had secured lodgings, and it is an actual fact
that our sleeping room on that night was occupied, not only by
oursolves, but by two women, one man, and four children,
(divided into three beds,) all members of the same family with
whom we had succeeded in obtaining aecommodations. On the
following morning we rose at an early hour, and again tried
our luck at salmon fishing, but only killed a few trout, where-
upon we boarded our gig, and started down the romantic Sague-
nay, telling stories and singing songs. Another river, in this
region, which afibrds good salmon fishing, is the Esquemain. It
empties into the St. Lawrence, about twenty miles east of

[ft. "«i

'IPS

ii <K *'-

l!w

.tvj* 'fPSffl(|w»,|

*♦'

"X.

Mil

.*^.'

V^m

282

SALMON FISHING ADVENTURES.

Saguenay. It is a cold, clear and rapid stream, abounding in
rapids and deep pools. At its mouth is located a saw-mill, but
its water-works are so managed as not to interfere with the
salmon. The fish of this stream ascend to a great distance,
and, though rather small, are exceedingly abundant. The best
fishing in the river is at the foot of the water-fall, which forms
a sheet of foam, about one mile above the mouth. My Quebec
friend accompanied me to this place, and though we only threw
the fly about six hours, (three in the evening and three in the
morning,) yet we killed thirteen salmon, without losing a single
line, and with the loss of only three flies. Owing to the bushy
shores of the stream, we were compelled to fish standing upon
boulders, located in its centre; and whenever we hcoked a fish,
there was no alternative but to plunge into the current, and trust
to fortune. For some unaccountable reason, (of course, it could
not have been our fault,) wo lost more than half of those we
hooked. But it was worth a moderate fortune to see the mag-
nificent leaps which the fish performed, not only when they
took the fly, but when they attempted to escape. There was
not one individual that did not give us a race of at least half a
mile; Tlie largest taken, during this expedition, was killed by
my companion, and caused more trouble than all his other
prizes. Not only did the fellow attempt to clear himself by
stemming the foam of a rapid, and rubbing his nose against a
rock, to break the hook, but he also swept himself completely
round a large boulder, poked his head into a net, and ran, with
the speed of lightning to the extreme end of his line. It took
ray friend forty minutes to land this salmon, and I assure you
ho was particularly pleased when ho found that his fish wciglied
one pound more than the largest I had taken. Tl»o fact was
our rods were almost precisely alike, in length and strength,
and as two countries were represented in our persons, the strife
between us was quite desperate. I will acknowledge that the
Canada gentleman took tlie largest salmon, but the States
angler took them in the greatest number. Notwithstanding all
the fine £port that wo enjoyed on the Esquomain, I am com-
pelled to state that it was more than oountorbalanced by the

SALMON FISHINQ ADVENTURES.

288

sufferings we endured from the black fly and musqueto. The
black fly is abcmt half as large as the common house fly, and,
though it bites you only in the day time, they are as abundant
in the air as the sand upon the sea shore, and venomous to an
uncommon degree. The musqueto of this region is an uncom-
monly gaunt, long-legged, and hungry creature, and his howl
is peculiarly horrible. We had been almost devoured by the
black flies, during the afternoon, and as soon as darkness came,
we secured a couple of beds in a Frenchman's house, and, as
we tumbled in, congratulated ourselves upon a little comfortable
repose. It was an exceedingly sultry night, and though we
were both in a complete fever, from the fly poison circulating in
our veins, Jho heat excelled the fever, and our bodies were
literally in a melting condition. We endeavored to find relief
by lying upon the bare floor, with no covering but a single
sheet, and this arrangement might have answered, had it not
been for the flood of musquetos which poured into the room,
as one of us happened to open a window to obtain fresh air.
Every spot on our bodies which the flios had left untouched,
was immediately settled upon by these devils in miniature.
They pierced the very sheets that covered us, and sucked away
at our blood without any mercy. Unwilling to depart this life
without one eff*ort more to save it, we then dressed ourselves,
and sauntered into the open air. We made our way towards a
pile of lumber, near the saw-null, and without a particle of
covering, endeavored to obtain a little sleep ; but the insect
hounds soon found us out, and- we bolted for another place.
Our course now lay towards the rude bridge which sjtans the
Esquemain, just above the mill. Our intentions at the time,
though not uttered aloud, I verily believe were of a fearful
character. On reaching the bridge, however, a refreshing breeze
sprung up, and we enjoyed a brief respite from our savage
enemies. We now congratulated each other upon our good for-
• tune, and had just concluded to bo (juite happy, when we dis-
covered a number of Indians on the rivor, spearing salmon by
torch light, and, as it was after midnight, and the heathens
wore spearing on our fishing ground, wo mournfully concluded

wyl

W-' !■

sSJ

im\

j:.; '»

^j;

Ir^4l

fe'*

■ i

284

SALMON FISHING ADVENTURES.

that our morning's sport was at an end. But while in the very
midst of this agreeable mood of mind, a lot of skylarking mus-
quetos, discovered our retreat, and we were again besieged.
We now endeavored to find relief on board the boat which had
brought us from the Saguenay ; and here it was that we spent
the two last hours of that most miserable night. Though not
exactly in a fitting condition to throw the fly with any degree
of comfort, we made an effort after salmon in the morning, and
succeeded in killing a portion of the thirteen already mentioned.
That we enjoyed the good breakfast which we had prepared for
our especial benefit, and that we departed from Esquemain as
soon as possible, are facts which I consider self-evident.

The mouth of the Saguenay, as I have before remarked, is
completely hemmed in with barriers of solid rock, and, when
the tide is flowing in from one of these points, first rate salmon
fishing may occasionally be enjoyed. I have frequently had
the pleasure of throwing the fly on the point in question, and,
on one occasion, was so carried away with the sport, that I took
no notice of the rising tide. It was near the sunset hour, and
on preparing for my departure home, I discovered that I was
completely surrounded with water, and that my situation was
momentarily becoming more dangerous. The water was bitter
cold, and turbulent, and the channel which separated me from
the main shore was upwards of a hundred yards wide. I was
more than half a mile from the nearest dwelling, and could not
see a single sail on the Sagucnay> or tho still broader St. Law-
rence, excepting a solitary ship, which was ten leagues away.
My predicament, I assure you, was not to bo envied. I could
not entertain the idea thot I should lose my life; and, though
I felt myself to bo in danger, my sensations were supremely
ridiculous. But something, I wos persuaded, must be done,
and that immediately ; and so I commenced throwing off my
clothes for a final effort to save my life. I had stripped off
everything but shirt and pantaloons, and to a flock of crows, ,
which were cawing above my lead, I must have presented an
interesting picture. I thought of the famous swimming adven-
tures of Lcunder and Lord Byron, and also, of the incouvo-

SALMON FISHING ADVENTURES.

285

niences of being drowned, (as Charles Lamb did of being
hanged,) but just as I was about to make the important plunge,
an Indian in his canoe came gliding around a neighboring point,
and I was rescued, together with one salmon and some dozen
pounds of trout.

But I have not finished my story yet. On the night follow-
ing this incident I retired to bed in rather a sober mood, for I
could not banish the recollection of my narrow escape from a
ducking, if not from a watery grave. The consequence was,
that, in my dreams, I underwent ten times as much mental suf-
fering as I had actually endured. I dreamed, that, in scaling
the rocks which lead to the point alluded to, I lost my footing,
and fell into the water. While in this condition, drinking more
salt water than I wanted, floundering about, like a sick porpoise,
gasping for breath, and uttering a most doleful moan, I was
suddenly awakened, and found my good landlord at my side,
tapping me on the shoulder, for the purpose of summoning me
— from the back of the nightmare I had been riding.

As I may not have another opportunity of alluding to this
portion of the Saguenay, and the rocky point already alluded
to, I must give my reader another, and a remarkable incident
connected with them. Some years ago, the Hudson's Bay
Company had in its employ, as clerk at Tadousac, an intelligent
ajid amiable young man, whoso name was MeCray. For some
unaccountable reason, he became deranged ; and, on one occa-
sion, a cold and stormy winter night, he took it into his head
to cross the Saguenay upon the floating ice, which was coming
down at the time. When first discovered, he was half way
across the stream, and making frightful leaps of ten and fifteen
feet from one block of ice to another. Ills friends followed in
close pursuit, with a boat, as sooa us possible, but on reaching
the opposite shore, tho unhappy man was not to be found. On
the day following, however, certain people, who wcro hunting
for him in tho woods, discovered him, perched in the crotch of
a tree, almost frozen to death, and senseless as a clod of the
valley. He was taken home, tho circulation of his blood re-
stored, and he is now an inmate of the Quebec Lunatic Asylum.

J!'. W*U% ...

Pi. 1

286

SALMON FISHING ADVENTURES.

The mind of this worthy man was thought to be of a high or-
der ; and it is certain that he possessed an extensive knowlodwe
of botany and geology. From remarks that escaped him sub-
sequently to the wonderful feat he performed, it is supposed
that, at the time of starting across the river, he was thinking
of a particular book which he wished to obtain, and had been
told could be purchased at Quebec, towards which place (un-
attainable by land,) he had set his face. It is worthy of record
that poor McCray is the only man that ever crossed the deep
and angry Sagucnay on the ice, as it is never solidly frozen ;
and it is almost certain that the feat he performed can never be
again repeated.

But to return to my piscatorial remarks. Next to the salmon,
the finest sporting fish of this region is the trout. Of these I
have seen two species, — the salmon and the common trout. Of
the former, 1 believe there is but one variety, but that is an ex-
ceedingly fine fish for bport, or the table, and is found in the
lower tributan'es of tlio St. Lawrence, from five to fifteen
pounds. They aro taken chiefly in the salt water, and possess
a flavor which the trout of our western lakes do not. Of the
common trout, I have scon at least six varieties, differing, how-
ever, only in color ; for some are almost entirely white, others
brown, some blue, some green, some blac''> and others yellow.
These are taken everywhere in tho St. Lawrc. jo, and in all its
tributaries. Those of the Sagucnay are x o largest, most abun-
dant, and of the rarest quality. Upon the whole, I am inclined
to set this river down as affording the finest trout-fishing that I
have over enjoyed, not even excepting that which I have ex-
perienced at tho Falls of St. Mary, in Michigan. Almost every
bay or cove in tho Saguonay is crowded with trout, and, gen-
erally speaking, tho rocks upon which you have to stand afford
an abundance of room to swing and drop the fly. lu some of
tho coves alluded to, I have frequently taken a dozen two-pound
♦,rout during an hour bcforo sunset. Trout-fisbing in this
fsgion possesses a charm w.iich the angler seldom experi-
ences in tho rivers and lakes of tho United States, \vhich con-
sistti in his unoertainty as to the character of his prize before

SALMON FISHING ADVENTURES.

287

he has landed him, for it may be a common or salmon trout, or
a regular-built salmon, as these fisli all swim in the same water.
It is reported of a celebrated ancler of Quebec, that lie once
spent a week on the Esquemain, and captured within that time,
seventy salmon, and upwards of a hundred trout. This is a
very large story, but I have faith enough to believe it true.

And now for a few remarks upon the fish of the lower St.
Lawrence generally. Cod are taken to a very great extent,
and constitute an important article of commerce. Herring and
mackerel are abundant ; also the halibut and sardine. Shad
are also taken, but not in suflBcicnt quantities to export. The
lobster, flounder and oyster are also found in this river, and,
with a few unimportant exceptions, these are the only fish that
flourish in this portion of the great river. The sea bass, the •
striped bass, the blue fish, and the black fish, for which I should
suppose these waters perfectly adapted, are entirely unknown.

■■''I-^.

'■\"

SEAL HUNTING ON THE ST. LAWRENCE.

Before breakfast this morning, I had the pleasure of taking
fifteen common trout, and the remainder of the day I devoted t'
seal hunting. This animal is found in great abundance in the
St. Lawrence, and by the Indians and a few white people, ex-
tensively hunted. There are several varieties found in these
waters, and the usual market price for the oil and skin is five
dollars. They vary in size from four to eight feet, and are
said to be good eating Many people make them a principal
article of food ; and while the Indiana use their skin for many
purposes, they also light their cabins with the oil. In sailing
the river, they meet you at every turn, and when first I saw one,
I thought I was looking upon a drowning man ; for they only
raise their heads ou*, of the water, and tfcus sustain themselves
with their feet, fias, pads, flippers, or whatever you may call
them. They live upon fish, and in many of their habits, closely
resemble the otte ;. Their paws have five claws, joined together
with a thick skir ; they somewhat resemble the dog, and have a
bearded snout lik 3 a cat, large bright eyes, and long sharp tocth.
They are a noisy animal, and when a number of them arc sun-
ning themselves tpon the sand, the screams they utter arc dole-
ful in the extreme — somewhat resembling the cry of children.

My first seal expodition was performed in company with two
professional hunters. Wo started from shore with a . yawl and
a oanoe, and made our course for a certain spot in the St. Law-
rence, where the waters of the Saguenay and the flo'od tide came
together, and caused a terrible commotion. The canot led the
way, occupied by one man, who was supplied with a harpoon,

SEAL HUl TING ON THE ST. LAWRENCE.

289

and a long line ; while the other hunter and myself came up in
the rear, for the purpose of rescuing the harpooner in case an
accident should happen, and also for the purpose of shipping
the plunder. The seal seems to delight in frequenting the
deepest water and more turbulent whirlpools, and the object of
using the canoe is to steal upon him in the most successful man-
ner. We had not floated about the eddy more than twenty
minutes, before a large black animal made his appearance, about
ten feet from the canoe ; but just as he was on the point of di-
ving, the hunter threw his harpoon, and gave him the line, to
which was attached a buoy. The poor creature floundered
about at a great rate, dived as far as he could towards the bot-
tom, and then leaped entirely out of the water ; but the cruel
spear would not loosen its hold. Finally, after making every
effort to escape, and tinging the surrounding water with a crimson
hue, he gasped for breath a few times, and sunk to the end of
the rope, quite dead. We then pulled him to the side of the
boat, and with a gafl-hook secured him therein, and the hunt
was renewed. In this manner did my companions capture no
less than three seals before the hour of noon.

On one occasion, I noticed quite a large number of seals sun-
ning themselves upon a certain sandy point ; and as I felt an
" itching palm" to obtain, with my own hands, the material for
a winter cap, I spent the afternoon in the enjoyment of a
"shooting frolic, all alone." I borrowed a rifle of one my
friends, and, having passed over to the f.andy point in a canoe,
I secreted myself in the midst of some rocks, and awaited the
game. I had remained quiet but a short time, when a huge
black seal made its appearance, scrambling up the beach, where
he kept a sharp look-out for anything that might do him harm.
I admired the apparent intelligence of the creature, as he drag-
ged his clumsy and legless body along the ground, and almost
regretted that he was doomed to die. True to a whim of the
moment however, I finally concluded to leave him unmolested
for the preStent, hoping that he would soon be accompanied by
one of his fellow-seals, and that I should have a chance of kill-
ing a pair. I was not disappointed, and you will therefore
19

l#»K^

S^'.-^i'u&i

in;^m

;!**

290

S'SAL HUNTING ON THE ST. LAWRENCE.

please consider me in full view of one of the finest marks imag-
inable, three fine seals, and in the attitude of firing. Crack
went the rifle, but my shot had only the effect of temporarily
rousing the animals, and I proceeded to reload my gun, won-
dering at the cause of my missing, and feeling somewhat dissa-
tisfied with matters and things in general. Again was it my
privilege to fire, and I saw a stick fly into the air about thirty
feet on the left of my game. The animals were, of course, not
at all injured, bu.t just enough frightened to turn their faces to-
wards the water, into which they shortly plunged, and disap-
peared. I returned to my lodgings, honestly told my storj,
and was laughpd at for my pains and bad luck. It so happened,
however, that the owner of the gun imagined that something
might be the matter with the thing, and, on examination, found
that one of the sights had been accidently knocked from its
original position, which circumstance had been the " cause of
my anguish ;" and, though it restored to me my gcod name as
a marksman, it afforded mc but little satisfaction.

But, that my paper about seals may be worth sealing, I will
give you the history of an incident which illustrates the sagacity
of an Indian in killing his game. A Mic-mac hunter, with his
family, had reached the shore of the St. Lawrence, hungry,
and short of ammunition. On a large sand-bank which lay
before him, at a time when the tide was low, he discovered an
immense number of seals. He waited for the tide to flow, and
again to ebb, and as soon as the sand appeared above the water,
he hastened to the dry point in his canoe, carrying only a
hatchet as a weapon. On this spot he immediately dug a hole,
into which he crept, and covered himself with a blanket. Uo
then commenced uttering a cry in imitation of the seal, and in
a short time had collected about him a very largo number of
those animals. He waited patiently for the tide to retire so far
that the animals would have to travel at least a milo by land ■
before reaching the water ; and, when the wished for moment
arrived, he suddenly fell upon the affrighted multitude, and with
his tomahawk, succeeded in slaughtering upwards of oifB hun-
dred. To many, this may appear to be an improbable story,

SEAL HUNTINC

THE ST. LAWRENCE.

£91

but when it is remembered that this amphibious animal is an
exceedingly slow land traveller, it will be readily believed. The
manner in which our hunter managed to save his game, was to
tie them together with bark, and when the tide rose, tow them
to the main shore.

Since I have brought my read;r upon the waters of the St.
Lawrence, I will not permit him to go ashore until I have given
him an account of another inhabitant of the deep which is found
in very great abundance, not only in this river, but also in the
Saguenay. I allude to the white porpoise. The shape of this
creature is sim'lar to that of the whale, though of a pure white
color, and usually about fifteen feet in length. They are ex-
ceedingly fat, and yield an oil of the best quality, while the skin
is capable of being turned into durable leather. They are
extensively used as an article of food ; the fins and tail, when
pickled, are considered a delicacy; and their value is about
twenty-five dollars a-piece. They are far from being a shy
fish ; and, when sailing about our vessel in large numbers, as is
often the case, they present a beautiful and unique appearance.
For taking this fish, the people of this region have two methods.
The first is to use a boat with a white bottom, behind which the
fisherman tows a small wooden porpoise, which is painted a dark
slate color, in imitation of the youn^r of the species. With
these lures the porpoise is often brought into the immediate
vicinity of the harpoon, which is thrown here with fatal preci-
sion. In this manner an expert man will often take three or
four fine prizes in a day. Another mode for taking these
creatures is by fencing them in. It appears that it is custom-
ary for this fish to wander over the sand bars, at high water,
for the purpose of feeding. Profiting by this knowledge, the
fishermen enclose one of the sandy reefs with poles set about
fifty feet apart, and sometimes covering a square mile. They
ieave an appropriate opening for the porpoises, which are sure
to enter at high water, and, owing to their timidity, they are
kept confined by the slender barrier until the tide ebbs, when
they -iTc destroyed in great numbers with very little trouble.
It is reported that a party of fishermen, some ninety miles above

^ M'-4

W^^'*'

- #^#

'trf

292

SEAL HUNTINa ON THE ST. LAWRENCE.

the Sagnenay, once took on? hundred and forty porpoises at
one tide; and it is also asserted that in dividing the spoil the
fishermen had a very bitter quarrel, since which time, as the
story goes, not a single porpoise has ever been taken on the
shoal in question.

IV '.''I

I -

\U '■»';';

ii. .•'!.; ■ ' i^T'r' 7 ''11 ;'

'it' ii.;<. Hl'v^ • ,-i-. ' !> ' I-' ■''■■ '* ■' '■■ ivi»"Vl.* -;> ■'-^'Jf

i> \ i

i \:ii\i:.A Ma,/-,, J,

^; ;^i ;<^: '■■(■-vf. ■ •wt, ,.-r. V. ' <-■•'

., - I !■'■■ '''i v'f '■-',; ■ ■' '• ••■■'' •■,;-iiV< ^ »■ ■■
■ ■■' 'I'li '<i '■'!■■■; '■ - •■>':-, tri y (v, ■■"..

'■' ! , . ■',' ; ■ '> •■' iMii-i-<ij. ''Oi U'

r... ^ij-;^ ' i\ ;?>{': ..'»!<''': All? >■' /il )\ ,(j«:'|. :U .'.•^\^

?»..• ^)J'«

.^j ^.

l;l4'<^>^r-Hj^

(">.'•. .»'.'<:w

THE ESQUIMAUX INDIANS OF LABRADOR.

. ', ,' •■

(M:

'/■hi;!*

The vast region of country lying on the north shore of the
Gulf of St. Lawrence, and extending to the eastward of the
Saguenay as far as Newfoundland, is generally known under
the name of Labrador. It is an exceedingly wild and desolate
region, and, excepting an occasional fishing hamlet or a mis-
sionary station belonging to the worthy Moravians, its only
inhabitants are Indians. Of these the more famous tribes are
the Red Indians, (now almost extinct,) the Hunting Indians,
the Mic-Macs, and the Esquimaux. The latter nation is by far
the most numerous, and it is said that their sway even extends
to the coasts of Hudson's Bay. They are, at the same time,
the wildest and most rude inhabitants of this wilderness, and,
in appearance, as well as manners and customs, closely resemble
the inhabitants of Greenland.

During one of my nautical expeditions down the St. Law-
rence, I chanced to be wind-bound for a couple of days at the
mouth of the nameless river on the north shore, where I found
a small encampment of Esquimaux Indians. The principal
man of the party was exceedingly aged, and the only one who
could convey his thoughts in any other language than his own.
He had mingled much with the French fur traders of the north,
and the French fishermen of the east, and possessed a smatter-
ing of their tongue. Seated by the side of this good old man,
in his lodge with a moose skin for a seat, a pack of miscellane-
ous furs to lean against, and a rude aeal-oil torch suspended
over my head, I spent many hours of one long-to-be-remembered
night in questioning him about his people. The substance of

s»^^

.-•'•f

294

THE ESQUIMAUX INDIANS OF LABRADOR.

the information I then collected, it is now my purpose to record ;
but it should be remembered that I speak of the nation at large,
and not of any particular tribe.

According to my informant, the extent of the Esquimaux
nation is unknown, for they consider themselves as numerous as
the waves of the sea. Much has been done to give them an
education, and, though missionaries of the cross have dwelt
among them for about a century, yet the majority of this
people are, at the present time, in heathen darkness. The
men are chiefly employed in hunting and fishing, and the do-
mestic labor is all performed by the women. Their clothes
are made in the rudest manner imaginable, and generally of
the coarser skins which they secure in hunting. They believe
in a Supreme Being, who has a dwelling-place in the earth,
the air, and the ocean, who is both good and evil ; and they also
believe in the immortality of the soul, which they describe as
similar to air, which they cannot feel. Their principal men are
magicians and conjurors, distinguished, as I infer from good
reason, for their profligacy. Whenever a man is sick, they at-
tribute the cause to the alleged fact that his soul has departed
from his body, and he is looked upon with contempt and pity.
The first man who came into the world sprang from the bosom
of a beautiful valley ; in this valley he spent his infancy and
childhood, feeding upon berries ; and having, on a certain occa-
sion, picked up a flower which drooped over one of his accus-
tomed paths, it immediately became changed into a girl with
flowing hair, who became his playmate, and afiorwards his
wife, and was the mother of all living. They believe in a
heaven and a hell, and consider that the road to the former ia
rugged and rocky, and that to the latter, level, and covered with
grass. Their ideas of astronomy are peculiar, for they con-
sider the sun, moon, and stars as so many of their ancestors,
who have, for a great variety of reasons, been lifted to the
skies, and become celestial bodies. In accounting for the two
former, they relate that there was once a superb festival given
by the Esquimaux, in a glorious snow-palace of the north,
where were assembled all the young men and maidens of the

THE ESQUIMAUX INDIANS OF LABRADOR.

295

land. Among them was a remarkably brave youth, who was
in love with an exceedingly beautiful girl. She, however, did
not reciprocate this attachment, and endeavored, by all the
means in her power, to escape from his caresses. To accom-
plish this end, she called upon the Great Spirit to give her a
pair of wings ; and, having received them, she flew into the
air, and became the moon. The youth also endeavored to ob-
tain a pair of wings, and, after many months, finally succeeded ;
and, on ascending to the sky, he became the sun. The moon,
they say, has a dwelling-place in the west, and the sun another
in the far east. They account for thunder and lightning by
giving the story of two women who lived together in a wigwam,
and, on one occasion, had a most furious battle. During the
affray, the cabin tumbled in upon them, causing a tremendous
noise, while the women were so angry that their eyes flashed
fire. Rain, they say, comes from a river in the skies, which,
from the great number of people who sometimes ^athe in it,
overflows its banks, and thus comes to the earth in showerc.

When one of their friends has departed this life, they take
all his property and scatter it upon the ground, outside of his
cabin, to be purified by the air ; but in the evening, they col-
lect it together again, and bury it by the side of his grave.
They think it -wrong for the men to mourn for their friends,
and consider themselves defiled if they happen to touch the
body of the deceased, and the individual who usually performs
the ofiice' of undertaker, is considered unclean for many days
after fulfilling his duty. The women do all the wailing and
weeping, and during their mourning season, which corresponds
with the fame of ^he deceased, they abstain from food, wear
their hair in great disorder, and refrain from every ablution.
When a friendless man dies, his body is left upon the hills to
decay, as if he had been a beast. When their children die,
they bury the body of a dead dog in the same grave, that the
child may have a guide in his pathway to an unknown land, to
which they suppose all children go.

Polygamy, as such, among the Esquimaux, is practised only
to a limited extent ; but married men and women are not over-

'^'^^^

296

THE ESQUIMAUX INDIANS OF LABRADOR.

'"'^ih-iM.^i

:iiim

•y

iT-r

f ^IMOBl—Dn.' ^

S2Sli|w

s^^m-^

scrupulous in their love affairs. Unmarried women, however,
observe the rules of modesty with peculiar care, and the maiden
who suffers herself to be betrayed, is looked upon with infamy.
When a young man wishes to marry, he first settles the matter
with his intended, and then, having asked and obtained her
father's permission, he sends two old women to bring the lady
to his lodge, and they are considered one. The Esquimaux
mother is fond of her children, and never chastises them for
any offence. Children are taught to be dutiful to their pa-
rents, and until they marry they always continue under the
patei'nal roof. >.u) r - v .! - ' - "' <''^ ■^■fI ,

The amusements of the Esquimaux do not differ, materially,
from those of the Indian tribes generally. The men are fond
of dancing, playing ball, and a species of dice game, while the
women know of no recreation but that of dancing and singing.

And thus endeth my mite of information respecting one of
the most extensive aboriginal nations of the far north. < ;<•.'.'

rV:iyff,,fi ■ I'l

■v ,-A

■>'/i ','/u !;.■- ,

i ;••

ll\

'ily- 1' :( M' V.I fiij'i.. / \. i'
,, T' I il 1 'i.-oy )■ V .1.1 (.

• t ' •• ■' ,! ft" -r I

V :■•. .■' /• ' i' '■ H" 1 '' 'I' .' ■■•'

I > f"/» I *

1 • ii'li'.! il-.M"! .'( ' I,,'.- ' i'

t)i' I ,! 'Ml ^'1 '•■'l.jf'C "li'l

i- ■, 'I

'..!■

t'lfrr ■'^rf^ff"'^"^

.' r.,l K.-. ' )t'-i7l /'

.!•.

ii^t-^

THE HABJTANS OF CANADA.

■ <'!'■''

Since dating my last chapter from the Saguenay, I have
completed my pilgrimage through Lower Canada ; but before
leaving the Province, I will give you the result of my observa-
tions respecting some of its people. These are divided into
three classes — the descendants of the French colonists, com-
monly called " Habitans," the British settlers, and the Indian
tribes. The " Habitans," of whom I am now to speak, are the
most numerous, and so peculiar in their appearance and man-
ners, as to attract the particular attention of travellers. The
men are usually tall and slender, oi' sinewy build, and with a
dark-brown complexion ; the girls are black-eyed, and disposed
to be beautiful, while the women are always dumpy, but good-
looking. Their dress is similar to that of tl French peasantry ;
the men wear the old-fashioned ca^ot^ on their heads every va-
riety of fantastic caps and hats, and, on their feet, moccasins
made of cow-hide ; the women wear jackets or mantelets, which
are made of bright colors, and, on their heads, either a cap or
straw hat, made in the gipsy-fashion. Occasionally, they makfr
an effort to imitate the English in their dress, and, at sucl^
times, invariably appear ridiculous. As a class they are de-
voted, principally, to agriculture ; but as their opportunities
for obtaining instruction are exceedingly limited, their know-
ledge of the art of husbandry is precisely what it was one hun-
dred years ago. They seem to be entirely destitute of enter-
prise, and tread in the beaten steps of their fathers. They
who live in the vicinity of Montreal and Quebec, generally sup*
l)ly those markets with vegetables ; bat those who reside in the

■•s

( .tl

[If •

J-

ff, I If I.

v-tes

■r 'n'

298

THE HABITANS OF CANADA.

"%;'

^}s^.; ■

more obscure parts, seem to be quite satisfied if they can only
manage to raise enough off their farms for the purpose of car-
rying them through the year. They are partial to rye bread,
and never conbider it in a cook'.ng condition until it has been
soured by age ; and their standard dish, which they make use
of on all occasions, is a plain pea soup. The consequence is,
the pea is extensively cultivated. You seldom find a farmer
who Is so poor as not to be able to sell from five to fifty bushels
of wheat, and this article he appropriates to the same use that
most people do their money. Their plough is distinguished
for its rudeness, and their farming implements, generally,
would not be creditable even to a barbarous people. If an in-
dividual happens to have a stony field, the idea docs not, enter
his head that he might build a fence with those very stones, and
the conseqaence is, that he piles tliem in one immensy heap, in
the centre of the field, and draws his rails a distanct, perhaps,
of two miles. But with all their ignorance of agriculture, the
the inhabitants are sufiiciently careful to make their little farms
yield them all the necessaries they require, particularly their
clothing and shoes, their candles, soap, and sugar. There are
but few professional mechanics among them, and the dwelling
of the peasant is almost invariably the production of his own
labor. Their houses are distinguished for pictorial beauty,
always one story high, and, generally, neatly white-washed.
Their cattle are small, and, owing to their neglect in feeding
and protecting them, are exceedingly poor. Their horses arc
nothing but ponies, but distinguished for their toughness. The
Ilabitans are partial to the luxury of riding, and their com-
mon vehicle is a rough two-wheeled cart, and, occasionally, a
calash.

The establishment Avhich I employed for traveling in the set-
tled parts of Canada, was a fair specimen of the class. The
cost of the horse (four feet and a half high,) was twenty dollars,
and tho cart (made entirely of wood,) was four dollars. My
coachman was a Habitan, and, in driving over a hilly road, on
a certain day, I had a fine opportunity for studying tho con-
flicting traits of character which distinguish the race. Whcne-

THE HABITANS OF CANADA.

299

ver he wanted his horse to go fast, he pulled the reins with all
his might, and continued to utter a succession of horrible yells.
He invariably ran his animal up the hill, and deliberately
walked Mm down. When angry at his unoflFending beast, he
showered upon his head a variety of oaths, >vhich might be
translated as follows: infernal hog, black toad, and hellish dog ;
and yet when the animal was about to drop to the ground from
fatigue and heat, he would caress him, and do everything in his
power to restore the animal, and easv^ his own conscience. I
first employed this man to bring me to this place, and said no-
thing about continuing my journey. On ascertaining, however,
that I was bound further down the St. Lawrence, he volunteered
his services, and I employed him, although he had informed bis
V ;■' that he would positively return on the night of the day he
If '. , I retained him in my employ for two days, and was
. '. ..iai'ly struck with the anxiety he manifested concerning
the disappointment of his wife. Ho alluded to the impropriety
c^his conduct at least a dozen times, and usually added, "But
you give me plenty money (it was only six dollai's for taking
me fovty miles,) and I will buy %omething pretty for my wife,
which will make her very glad — I guess she won't be sorry."
I asked him what it was that he intended to purchase, and his
answer was, "some ribbon, a pair of scissors, with some needles,
and a calico dress." Who can deny that it is pleasant to study
the sunshine of the human heart "by which we live?"

The Ilabltans profess the Roman Catholic religion with much
zeal. Among them, I believe, may be found many worthy
Christians ; but they manifest their religious devotions in many
peculiar ways. They are fond of social intercourse, and spend
a goodly portion of their time in visiting each other. They
reluctantly establish themselves beyond the sound of a chapel
boll, and I positively believe that they spend more than half of
their time in performing mass and horse-racing. The Sabbath
is their great holiday, and always decidedly the noisiest day in
the week. Their general deportment, however, is inoffensive,
and often highly praiseworthy. They are aoidom guilty of
committing atrocious crimes, and do not often engage in the

800

THE HABITANS OF CANADA.

personal conflicts which are so prevalent in the United States.
They treat all men with kindness, and in their language and
manners, are remarkably polite. The little girl, playing with
her doll in her father's door, would think her conduct highly
improper should she omit to drop you a courtesy as you passed
along , and even the rude boy, when playing ball, or driving
his team, invariably takes off his hat to salute the traveler.

The Habitans are par'ticularly fond of the river St. Lawrence,
and their settlements extend from Montreal, about two hun-
dred miles a long the river on the north shore, and perhaps three
hundred and fifty on the southern shore. Their principal roads
run parallel with the river ; are about hali a mile apart, and,
generally, completely lined with rural dwellings.

The political opinions of the Habitans are extremely liberal,
aud not much in accordance with the spirit of Canadian insti-
tutions. They hate England by nature, and the advice of their
priesthood, and scruple not to declare themselves actually in
love with v/hat they call the American Government. They
complain that Englishmen treat them as if they were slaves,
while the people of the United States always hail ibem as bro-
thers. They are an unlettered race, but believe that their con-
dition would be much happier were they the subjects of a
Prasident, instead of a Queen. That is a matter I consider
questionable. .. . , , , ,. - . .,v. ..

•« 1' •,>»-■•; .'"Ml i .f (f. f' .1- s..l;,v;i. ti;'<Llt;ti '■■ U

'f!u: T * Mf.f ,,; - ■.,. (,- I ...-;{ !• ..('.: V I' •" i' ■'•!,.

''!'!* H" '■?:' •' ' '■ •\'\ ; V'*-' L'v'l/'-' "' '.'I' ^' II'" ',!'.,( , »":t|.')i.'- r)[lv'
■fr. .'.i'- n-i If .':•'•! 'i'. -.' R '.i; v,\i\T nr i/>fi). , '•fi''-^'- ',:iUi*^^^%l
.'.<i!i>' •(''')!:' v> jr '!»;fT' ' " !)»" i- "* L.' )7t ■
V "li- ,i»M'' >*i "i* ' U''' ^^ " ■»;',' I'M?' I 'a* <!.<■•»'
•-:■■■• ,,(i;ai i n-)'.i' \[:<i'j *.r;' '■ '■■'■' ••! ^'

( »,!f^vv.( .)-.'(i(i i'.i.i '••••lift i.iKt)iii/H ■ Ji'jif'

kl: i m^

If ■

C^'SJ

,1^1,^51

.-!.Uwl

) .'? t '*;'

X',» :

.jk rt ,.'i< ■■7<>v 1' "- '■::■, «i- ;' 'i'' v.t ■')'.*''; '•:*^''-'

LAKE TIMISCOUTA.

The traveler who would go from Quebec to Halifax by the
recently established government route, will have to take a
ateamer for one hundred and twenty miles down the great
river, and cross the Grand Portage road, which commences at
the river Du Loup, and extends to Lake Timiscouta^ a distance
of thirty-six miles.

With the village of Du Loup, I was well pleased. It contains
about twelve hundred inhabitants, and a more general mixture
of English, Scotch, and French than is usually found in the
smaller towns of Canada. The place contains an Episcopal
church, which .must be looked upon as a curiosity in this Ro-
man Catholic country, for it is the only one, I believe, found
eastward of Quebec. The situation of the village is romantic.
It commands an extensive prospect of the St. Lawrence, which
's here upwards of twenty milss wide, and bounded, on the op-
posite '«ide, by a multitude of rugged mountains. The river is
studded with islands ; and ships are constantly passing hither
and thither over the broad expanse ; and when, from their
great distance, all these objects are confcantly enveloped in a
gauise-like atmosphere, there is a magic influence in the scenery.
The principal local attraction is a water-fall, about a mile in
the rear of the village. At this point the waters of the rapid
and beautiful Du Loup dance joyously over a rocky bed, until
they reach a picturesque precipice of perhaps eighty or a hun-
dred feet, over which they dash in a sLeet of foam, and, after
forming an extensive and shadowy pool, glide onward, through
u pleasant meadow, until they mingle with the waters of the

302

LAKE TIMISCOUIA.

J..

!:?■!

St. Lawrence. But, as I intend t*- take you over the Grand
Portage, it is time that we should he oflf. The first ten miles
of this road are dotted with the box-looking houses of the Cana-
dian peasantry ; but the rest of the route leads you up moun-
tains and down valleys as wild and desolate as when first croa-
ted. The principal trees of the forest are pine, spruce and
hemlock, and the foundation of the country seems to be granite.
This region is watered by many sparkling streams, which con-
tain trout in great abundance ; and the summer climate is so
cold that ice is frequently formed in the month of July. The
only curiosity on the road is of a geological character, and
struck me as something remarkable. Crossing the road, and
running in a northerly direction, and extending to the width of
about two miles, is a singular bed of granite boulders. The
rocks are of every size and form, and while, from a portion of
them, rises a scanty vegetation, other portions are destitute of
even the common moss. In looking upon this region, the idea
struck me that I was passing through the bed of Avhat once was
a mighty river, but whose fountains have become forever dry.
This is only one, however, of the unnumbered wonders of the
world which are constantly appearing to puzzle the philosophy
of man. In passing over the Grand Portage, the traveler has
to resort to a conveyance which presents a striking contrast
with the usual national works of her ladyship the Queen. It
is the same establishment which conveys the Royal Mail from
Quebec to Halifax, and consists of a common Canadian cart, a
miserable Canadian pony, and a yet more miserable Canadian
driver. Such is the way they order things in Canada, which,
I fancy, is not exactly the way they do in France. The Grand
Portage road itself is all that one could desire, and as there is
a good deal of summer and winter traveling upon it, it is sur-
prising that the Government cannot afibrd a more comfortable
conveyance. But this recently "Disputed Territory," owing
to nobody's fault but the actual settlers, seems ^o be destitute
of we. y thing desirable, and I know not but we ou^jui to lejoice
tha Lord Ashburton concluded the late treaty in the manner
he^ti'i.

m^.

aiK— .

LAKE IIMISCOUTA.

803

The eastern termination of the Grand Portage road is at Lake
Timiscouta, where is located a pleasant hamlet of Canadians,
and a picketed fort, which is now abandoned. The views from
this spot are unique j'ud exceedingly beautiful, particularly a
western view of the lake, when glowing beneath the rays of the
setting sun. The Indian word Timiscouta signifies the winding
water, and accurately descrbes the lake, which has a serpen-
tine course, is twenty-four miles long, and from two to three
wide. Excepting the cluster of houses already mentioned, there
is not a single cabin on the whole lake, and the surrounding
mountains, ivhich u,re perhaps a thousand feet high, are the
home of solituae and silence. The only vessels that navigate
the Lake are Indian canoes, paddled by Canadians. Not only
does the isolated settlers depend upon them for the transporta-
tion of provisions, but even the English nobleman, who travel-
ling in this region, finds it necessary to sit like a tailor in their
straw-covered bottoms. T^^e winters here are very severe, snow
oftentimes covering ihe earth to the depth of six foet for four
months in the year.

The only outlet to Lake Timiscouta is the Mauawaska River,
which is but a contraction of the same nater, but reduced to
the width of a stone's throw, and leading to the St. John's, a
distance of some forty miles. The meaning of Madawaska, as
I am informed, \» never frozen, and the river obtained this name
from the fact that certain portions, on account of the current,
are never Ice-bound. The scenery of the river is precisely
similar to that of its parent lake, only that it is a little culti-
vated. The waters of both are clear, but not very deep or cold.
They abound in fish, of which the common trout, the perch, and
tulady, are the more valuable varieties.

The manner in which I sailed through Timiscouta and Mada-
waska, was exceedingly pleasant, if not pecurar and ridiculous.
My canoe was manned by a couple of barbaro\is Canadians, and
while they occupied the extreme stern and bow, I was allowed
the " largest liberty" in the body thereof. It was an exceed-
ingly hot day when I passed through, and having stripped my-
self of nearly all my clothing, I rolled about at my own sweet

m::i

mam^

304

LAKE TIHISCOUTA.

i;;5^«

will, not only for the purpose of keeping cool, but that I might
do a good business in the way of killing time. At one moment
I was dipping my feet and hands in the water, humming a light-
some tune of yore, and anon sketching the portrait of a moun-
tain or a group of trees. Now I lay flat upon my back, and
while I watched the fantastic movements of the clouds, as they
crossed the blue of heaven, I attended to the comforts of the
inner man by sucking maple sugar. Now I called upon the
boatmen to sing me j. song, and, while they complied with my
request, I fixed myself in the poetical attitude of a Turk, and
smoked a cigar. At one time, we halted at a mountain spring,
to obtain a refreshing drink, and at another, the men pulled up
to some rocky point, that I might have the pleasure of throw-
ing the fly. Thus vagabondizing, "pleasantly the days of
Thalaba went by."

My voyage down the Madawaska was not without a charac-
teristic incident. There was quite a fleet of canoes descending
at the same time, some of them laden with women and babies,
and some with furs, tin-kettles and the knapsacks of home-
bound lumbermen. Two of the canoes were managed by a
Canadian and a Scotchman, who seemed to cherish a deeply-
rooted passion for racing. They paddled a number of heats,
and as they were alternately beaten, they both, finally, became
angry, and began to bet extravagantly. The conclusion of the
whole matter was that they went ashore on a bushy point among
the mountains, and settled their difliculty by a " private fight."
They fought, " like brave men, long and well," and by the time
one had a tooth knocked out of his head, and the other had
nearly lost an eye, they separated, and quietly resumed their
way. These were the only wild animals that I saw in the Ma-
dawiska wilderness.

THE ACADIANS.

At the junction of the river Madawaska and St. John, and
extending for soipe miles down the latter, is a settlement of
about three hundred Acadians. How these people came by
the name they bear, I do not exactly understand, but of their
history, I remember the following particulars. In the year
1755, during the existence of the colonial difficulties between
England and France, there existed in a remote section of Nova
Scotia, about fifteen thousand Acadians. Aristocratic French
blood flowed in their veins, and they were a peaceful and indus-
trious race of husbandmen. Even after the government of
England had become established in Canada, they cherished a
secret attachment for the laws of their native country. But
this was only a feeling, and they continued in the peaceful cul-
tivation of their lands. In process of time, however, three
titled Englishmen, named Lawrence, Boscawan and Moysten,
held a council and formed the hard-hearted determination of
driving this people from their homes, and scattering them to
the four quarters of the globe. Playing the part of friends,
this brotherhood of conquerors and heroes sent word to the
Acadians that they must all meet at a certain place, on business
which deeply concerned their welfare. Not dreaming of their
impending fate, the poor Acadians met at the appointed place,
and were there informed of the fact that their houses and lands
were forfeited, and that they must leave the country to become
wanderers in strange and distant lands. They sued for mercy,
but the iron yoke of a Christian nation was laid more heavily
upon their necks, in answer to that prayer, and they were driven
20

806

THE ACADIANS.

S-^' !,

/-'

ini

It 1

from home and country, and as they sailed from shore, or en-
tered the wilderness, they saw in the distance, ascending to
Heaven, the smoke of all they had lovod and lost. Those who
survived, found an asylum in the United States, and in the
more remote portions of the British empire, and when, after
the war, they were invited to return to their early homes, only
thirteen hundred were knoAvn to be in existence. It is a rem-
nant of this very people who, with their descendants, are now
the owners of the Madawaska settlement, and it is in an Aca-
dian dwelling that I am now penning this chapter. But owing
to their many misfortunes, (I would speak in charity,) the Aca-
dians have degenerated into a more ignorant and miserable
people than are the Canadian French, whom they closely re-
semble iu their appearance and customs, liiey believe the
people of Canada to be a nation of knaves, and the people of
Canada know them to be a half savage community. Worship-
ping a miserable priesthood, is their principal business ; drink-
ing and cheating their neighbors, their principal amusement.
They live by tilling the soil, and are content if they can barely
make the provision of one year take them to the entrance of
another. They are, at the same time, passionate lovers of
money, and have brought the science of fleecing strangers to
perfection. Some of them by a life of meanness have suc-
ceeded in accumulating a respectable property; but all the
money they obtain is systematically hoarded. It is reported
of the principal man of this place that he has in his house, at
the present moment, the sum of ten thousand dollars, in silver
and gold, and yet this man's children are as ignorant of the al-
phabet as the cattle upon the hills. But with all their ignor-
ance, the Acadians are a happy people, though the happiness is
of a mere animal nature.

The scenery of this place, which does not seem to possess a
name, is quite agreeable, but its attractive features are of an
architectural character. The first is a block house, and the
second a Catholic church. The block house occupies the sum-
mit of a commanding and rocky knoll, and was built at a coat
of near five thousand dollars, for the purpose of defending this

^mfi^m

THE ACADIANS.

807

portion of New Brunswick, during the existence of the late
boundary difficulty. The edifice is built of stone and timber,
and may be described as a square box, placed upon another and
larger one in a triangular fashion ; the width may be thirty feet,
and the height one hundred and fifty. It is well supplied with
port holes, entered by a wooden flight of stairs, and covered
with a tin roof. It contains two stores, besides a well-filled
magazine. It is abundantly supplied with guns and cannon,
and almost every variety of shot, shells and balls. It was once
occupied by three military companies, (about all that it would
possibly hold ;) but the only human being who now has any
thing to do with it, is a worthy man, who officiates as keeper.
The panorama which this fortress overlooks, is exceedingly pic-
turesque, embracing both the valleys of Madawaska and that of
the St. John, Avhich fade away amid a multitude of wild and
uncultivated mountains. When I f.rst looked upon this block
house, it struck rae as being a most ridiculous affair, but on fur-
ther examination, I became convinced that it could not be taken
without the shedding of much blood. Compared with such a
frontier post as Fort Snelling on the Mississippi, however, it
sinks into insignificance.

Of the church to which I alluded, I have only to remark
that it is a very small, and, apparently, a venerable structure,
built of wood, painted yellow, with a red steeple. It is plea-
santly located, amid a cluster of rude cabins, on the margin of
the St. John, and in the immediate vicinity of a race course.
It was my fate to spend a Sabbath in this Madawaska settle-
ment. As a matter of course, I attended church. The con-
gregation was large, and composed entirely of Acadians ; deck-
ed out in the most ridiculous gcw-gawish dresses imaginable. I
noticed nothing extraordinary on the occasion, only that at the
threshold of the church, was a kind of stand, where a woman
was selling sausages and small beer. The services were read
in Latin, and a sermon preached in French, which contained
nothing but the most common-place advice, and that all of a
secular character. At the conclusion of the service, the male
portion of the congregation gradually collected together on the

s-?i ^:

8Q8

THB ACADIANS.

neighboring green, and the afternoon was devoted to horse
racing, the swiftest horse belonging to the loudest talker, and
heaviest stake planter, and that man was — a disciple of the
Pope, and the identical priest whom I had heard preach in the
morning. It will be hard for you to believe this, but I have
written the truth, as well as my last line about the Acadian
settlement on the Madawaska.

m'^

,,, » .

■.)■;. J<fJ

"Si!.

f«K^

DOWN THE MADAWASKA.

In coming to the Falls of the St. John, from the North, the
traveller finds it necessary to descend the river St. John ii a
canoe. The distance from Madawaska is thirty-six miles, and
the day that I passed down was delightful. My canoe was
only about fifteen feet long, but my voyageur was an experl ■-" \
faithful man, and we performed the trip witnout the slig itesi.
accident.

The valley of this poi'tion of the river is mountainous, and
its immediate banks vary from fifteen to thirty feet in height.
The water is very clear and rapid, but of a brownish color, and
quite warm, varying in depth from three to thirty feet, and the
width is about a quarter of a mile. That portion of the stream
(say some seventy miles of its source,) which belongs exclusively
to the United States, runs through a fertile and beautiful coun-
try, abounds in water-falls and rapids, and is yet a wilderness.
That portion which divides the United Stater Troni New Bruns-
wick is somewhat cultivated, but principally by \ French popu-
lation. Owing to the /act that the farms all face the river, and
are very narrow, (but extend back to the distance of two or
three miles,} the houses have all been erected immediately on
the river, so that, to the casual observer, the country might
appear to be thickly inhabited, which is far from being the case.
The principal business done on the river, is the driving of logs
and timber for the market of St. John; and exceptiag the
worthy and hard-working lumbermen who toil in the forests, the
people are devoted to the tilling of their land, and are precisely
similar to the Acadians in their manners and customs, and pro-
bably from the same stock. There is a miniature steam-
boat on the river> but as the unnumbered canoes of the inha-

w'^m

•-1..-3I

!*''»,

h&-

'iiu^m

nio

DOAVN THE MADAWASKA.

bitants are'engaged in a kirid of opposition line, the fiery little
craft would seem to have a hard time. In navigating the river
the voyageurs paddle down stream, but use a pole in ascending ;
and two smart men, gracefully swinging their poles, and send-
ing their little vessel rapidly against the current, taken in con-
nection with the pleasant scenery of the river, present an agree-
able and novel sight.

We started from Madawaska at four o'clock in the morning,
and having travelled some twenty miles, we thought we would
stop at the first nice-looking tavern on the shore, (for about
every other dwelling is well supplied with liquor, and, conse-
quently, considered a tavern,) for the purpose of obtaining a
breakfast. Carefully did we haul up our canoe, and having
knocked at the cabin door, were warmljj welcomed by a savage-
looking man, whose face was completely besmeared with dirt,
and also by a dirty-looking Avoman, a couple of dirty-legged
girls, and a young boy. The only furniture in the room was
a bed, and a small cupboard, while the fire-place was without
a particle of fire. In one corner of the room Avas a kind of bar,
where the boy was in attendance, and seemed to be the spokes-
man of the dwelling. We asked liim if we could have some
breakfast, and he promptly replied that we could.

"What can you give us?" was my next question. ' ' ' •
"Anything you please," replied the boy, in broken English.
"We'll take some ham and eggs, then." ■ ' -■"

" We haven't any, only some eggs." m • . . ,,

•We'll take some bread and milk." < j . '. , .> •, v

" We have'nt any bread, but plenty of milk." • ■' '' ' ''•
"Haven'tyou any kind of meat ?" .. '» f ' r
" No, plenty of Rum. What' II you have T '
I could stand this no longer, and having expressed my dis-
pleasure at the ignorance of the boy, and condemned his father
for pretending to keep a tavern, I gave the former a sixpence,
and took half a dozen eggs, with which we returned to our
canoe. While I was fixing my seat in the boat, and comment-
ing upon wilderness hospitality, my companion amused himself
by swallo\ving four of the purchased eggs in a leather cup of
brandy. In two hours after this little adventure, our oanoe

nOAVN THE MADAWASKA.

811

was moored above the Falls of the St. John, and we were enjoy-
ing a first rate breakfast, prepared by the wife of a Mr. Russell,
who keeps a comfortable house of entertainment in this place.

After I liad finished my cigar, and enjoyed a resting spell, I
pocketed my sketch-book, and spent the entire day examining
the scenery of the Falls. After a broad and beautiful sweep,
the river St. John here makes a sudden turn, and, becoming
contracted to the width of about fifty yards, the waters make a
plunge of perhaps forty feet, which is mostly in a solid mass,
though rather disposed to form the third of a circle from shore to
shore. Below this pitch, and extending for about a mile, is a suc-
cession of falls, which make the entire descent some eighty feet.
The water rushes through what might be termed a winding
chasm, whose walls are perhaps one hundred and fifty or two
hundred feet high, perpendicular, and composed of a blueish
calcareous slate. Generally speaking, the entire distance from
the first fall to the last, presents a sheet of foam, though around
every jutting point is a black, and, apparently, bottomless pool,
which, Avhen I peered into them, were quite alive with salmon,
leaping into the air, or swimming on the margin of the foam.
On the western side of the walla, to a great extent, the original
forest has been suffered to remain, and a walk through its sha-
dowy recesses is an uncommon treat ; and on this side, also, is
the ruin of an old saw-mill, which adds to the picturesque
beauty of the spot. On the eastern side of the fulls is a com-
manding hill, which has boon stripped of its forest, and now
presents a stump field, of three hundred acres. It is a desolate
spot, but in strict keeping with the enterprise of the Province.
The expense of clearing, or, rather, half clearing the hill in
question, was six thousand dollars, and it was the original in-
tention of the mother government to erect thereon an extensive
fortress"; but owing to the birth of a sensible reflection, the idea
was abandoned. The barracks of the place, as they now exist,
consist of two log houses, which are occupied by a dozen sprigs
of the British Army. And thus endeth my account of one of
the most picturesque spots in New Brunswick, which, I doubt not,
may hereafter become a fashionable place of summer resort.

fi'^'

THE HERMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

tiUfff

On my way down the River St. John, I heard that the
Aroostook, one of its principal tributaries, was famous for its
salmon and a picturesque water-fall, so I took up my quarters
at a tavern near the mouth of that stream, with a view of
throwing the fly for a few days, and adding to my stock of
sketches. I arrived in the forenoon, and after depositing my
luggage in an upper room, and ordering a dinner, I proceeded
to arrange my tackle and pencils for an afternoon expedition.
This preparatory business I performed in the sitting-room of
the tavern, where there happened to be seated at the time, and
reading the New York Albion, an oddly-dressed, but gentle-
manly-looking man. In form, he was tall and slender, appeared
to be about fifty years of age, and there was such an air of re-
finement in his appearance and manners, that ho attracted my
particular attention. I said nothing, however, and quietly
continued my snelling operations, until summoned to dinner.
While at the table, I sent for the landlord, to incjuiro about the
ptranger whom I had noticed, and his reply was as follows : —
t'His name is Itohert IJgger ; ho is a strange but good man,
and lives the life of a recluse ; his house is above the fall, on
the Aroostook, and about four miles from hero. He has been
in this part of the country for many years, but I seldom see him
at my house, excepting when he wants to read the news, put a
letter in the office, or purchase a bag of flour."

With this intelligence I was quite delighted, for I fancied
that I had discovered a character, Avhich eventually proved to
bo the case. On returning to the room whore the stranger was

im^^^

THE HERMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

313

seated, I introduced myself by offering him a cigar ; and while
fixing my rod, asked him a few questions about the surround-
ing country. His replies proved him to be an intelligent man,
and as he happened to express himself a lover of the " gentle
art," I offered him the rise of some fishing tackle, and invited
him to accompany me. He refused my offer, but accepted my
invitation, and we started for the Aroostook. He officiated as
my guide : and when we approached the river, which was from
two to five feet deep, about one hundred yards wide, very rapid
filled with bridge piers in ruin, wo jumped into a Frenchman's
canoe, and were landed on the northern shore. Here we came
into a road which passed directly along the bank of the river ;
this wo followed for one mile, until we arrived at a flouring
mill, located at ♦he mouth of a large and very beautiful brook
where the road made a sudden turn towards the north. Di-
rectly opposite the mill, on the Aroostook side, was a narrow
and rai^id rift, whore, my friend told me, I was sure to hook a
salmon. I did not like the appearance of the place, but took
his advice and waded in. I tried my luck for some thirty
minutes, but could not tempt a single fish. This my friend did
not understand ; he said there were salmon there, and thought
that the fault was mine. I knew what he wanted, and there-
fore handed him my rod, that he might try his fortune. He
fished for nearly half an hour, and then broke the fly-tip of my
rod. As I was cherisliing an earnest desire to take at least one
salmon under the fell, which I thought the only likely place to
succeed, and towards which I had set my face, this little acci-
dent made mo exceedingly nervous. My friend attempted to con-
sole me by remarking, that, as it was getting to be toward
evening, wo had better return to the tavern, and take a fresh
start in the morning. But this proposition did not suit mo at
all, and I promptly said so. "Just as you please," replied my
companion, and so wo repaired the rod and continued up the
river. Very rapid, with many and deep pools, was this portion
of the stream ; and our course along the shore, over logs and
fallen trees, through tangled underbrush, and around rocky
points — was attended with every imaginable difficulty, and so con-

*'^*

314

THE HERMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

tinued for at least two miles. On coming in sight of the fall,
howevti , I was more than amply repaid for all ray trouble, by
the p'. js rf^t which there presented itself. It was, perhaps,
one '. nr .efore sunset, and there was a delightful atmosphere
resting upon the landscape. Directly before me, in the extreme
distance, and immediately under the crimson sun, was a narrow
rocky gorge, through which foamed the waters of the Aroos-
took, over a precipice of some thirty feet; and just below the
fall, rose a perpendicular rock to the height of nearly one hun-
dred feet, dividing the stream into two channels. The entire
middle distance of the prospect was composed of a broad and
almost circular basin of very deep and dark water, skirted
mostly with a rocky shore, while directly across the surface of
this pool, winding down the stream, was a line of foam, distin-
guishing the main channel ; while the foreground of this picture
consisted of a gravelly beach, two bark wigwams, several canoes
and some half dozen Indians, who were enjoying their evening
meal by the side of an expiring fire.

We held a brief conversation with the Indians, and found
out they had visited the basin for the purpose of spearing sal-
mon by torchlight ; and while my companion sat down in their
midst to rest himself, I jumped into one of the canoes, and pail-
dled to the foot of the fall, to try one of my fancy flies. I
fished for about thirty minutes — caught one small salmon —
lost two very large ones, and returned to the Indian camp,
where I had previously concluded to spend the night, provided
my guide did not insist upon returming to the tavern by moon-
light. It so happened, however, that my interesting plan was
vetoed by my companion, who told mo that his dwelling was
only a mile off', and that I must go and spend the night vith
him. I willingly assented to this proposition, and having pick-
ed up the salmon, wo engaged the -Indiant to ferry us across
the basin, and proceeded on our way. Our path was somewhat
narrow, crooked, and intricate, and as I listened to the roaring
of the water-fall, and thought of the mystery which hung over
my companion, I could not but wonder what I was about, and
to what strange place I was going.

TEE HERMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

815

In due time, however, we emerged from the woods, and came
out upon the side of a gentle hill, which sloped to the margin
of the Aroostook, and was sufficiently open to command an
extensive view of the river. Here my friend told me to tarry
a few moments, for he had a canoe hidden among some willows,
and wished to hunt it up, that we might recross the river once
more. I heard his words, but neglected to assist him, for my
whole attention was riveted by the scene upon which I was
gazing. The sober livery of twilight had settled upon the
world, and the flowing of the river was so peaceful, that I could
distinctly hear the hum of unnumbered insects as they sported
in the air. On the opposite shore was a lofty forest-covered
hill, and at the foot of it a small clearing, in the centre of which
stood a rude log cabin — the dwelling-place of my friend. On
my left, the river presented the appearance of a lake: and
apparently in the centre of it were two of the most exquisitely
foliaged islands imaginable. The valley seemed completely
hemmed in with mountains, and these, together with a glowing
sky, were all distinctly mirrored in the sleeping waters. Charm-
ing beyond compare was tliifl evening landscape, and the holy
time "was quiet as a nun, breathless with adoration." But now
my companion summoned me to a seat i'.i the canoe, and we
passed over the stream in safety ; he haulyd up his shallop, laid
aside his paddle, and, slapping me on tl:e shoulder, led the way
to his cabin, repeating, in a loud, clear voice, the following
nO'-ds: ' • ■

" Alono I live, botwoon four hills;

Pivmocl Roostook runs between:
At times, wild animals appear,

But men are seldom seen."

On entering the hut, which was now quite dark, as it only
contained one window, my companion turned abruptly round,
and after making a frolicsome remark about my being in hia
power, ho exclaimed — "That poetry I repeated to you just now
was a home-spun article; but as you might fancy something a
little more civilized, I would say to you, my young friend, in
the language of Wordsworth's Solitary,

S?'Pa

■■»wi", ►

316

THE HERMIT OP AROOc^TOOK.

* *.

'This is my (U-inair my cell,
My hermitage, my cabin, w!;at you -vill— ^ ..,
I love iti beUer thiif; a snail hh )\ous<)
But n(AV ye nhall be feasted with ovir besv."'

Soon as tb('?c- words hvd fallen from his lips, my friend pro-
ceeded to coridct some wood for a fire, and while I was left to
kindle the flame, he seized a tin pail, nnd went after soue Bpj ing
water, whicb^ h^ said, was como distance off. In a few Tiioraents,
I produced a sufiicient quant'ty o!' light to ans'. • my purpose,
and then took occasion to survey the roj'TO, into which I had
f^een thv.-o strangely introduced. Everything about me seemed
to be oddity itself. First was the huge fireplace, rudely made
of rough stones, and filled with ashes ; then the blackish ap-
pearance of the log walls around, and the hemlock rafters above.
In one corner stood a kind of wooiien box, filled with blankets,
which answered the purpose of a hod ; and in front of the only
window in tho cabin was a pine table on which stood an ink-
stand and some writing paper, and uuilor which sat a large gray
cat, watching my movements with a suspicious eye. In one
place stood a wooden chest, and a half-barrel of meal, and the
only things in the room to sit upon, were a couple of wooden
chairs. The crevices in the walls were stopped up with I'aga
and clay, and from various rafters depended bundles of mint,
hemlock, and other useful productions of the wood. A rusty
old gun, and a home-made fishing rod occupied one corner ; and
on every side, resting upon wooden pegs, were numerous shelves,
of every size and form, which were appropriated to a variety of
uses. On one or two of them were the cooking utensils of my
friend ; on another, a lot of smoky books ; and on others, a little
of everything, from a box of salt or paper of tea, down to a
spool of thread or a paper of needles.

In a few moments my friend entered the cabin, and immedi-
ately began to prepare our evening meal, which consisted of
bread, fried pork, and salmon, and a cup of tea. Plain was
our food, but it was aa nicely cooked as if it had been done by
a pretty girl, instead of an old man, and the comic pomposity
with which every little matter was attended to, afforded me

TUE HERMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

817

much amusement. One thing I rememher, which struck me as
particularly funny. My host was talking about the conduct of
Sir Robert Peel and the British Parliament, and while in the
midst of his discourse, opened a trap-door leading to his cellar,
and descended therein, i knew not what he was after, and
waited his re-appearance with some anxiety, when suddenly he
bobbed up his gl^iost-like head, resumed the thread of his re-
marks, and held forth in one hand a huge piece of fat pork, and
as he became excited about the conduct of the Prime Minister,
he occasionally slapped the pork with the remaining hand, and
then shook it in the air, as if it had been one of the bloody
Irishmen to whom he was occasionally alluding. He reminded
me of Shakspeare's grave-digger. I also remember, that, when
my friend was kneading his bread, the idea entered his head,
from so iC remark that I had dropped, t^at I did not compre-
hend the meaning of a certain passage in Shakspeare; so he
imr.ediatoly wiped one of his hands, leaned over for his ragged
copy of the mighty bard, and immediately settled the question
to our mutual satisfaction.

Supper being ended, I pulled out of my pocket a couple of
cigars which I had brought with me, and we then seated our-
selves comfortably before the fire, and entered into a systema-
tic conversation. The greater part of the talking was done by
my companion, and in the course of the evening, I gathered
the following particulars respecting his own history :

He told me he was a native of Hampshire, England, and had
spent his boyhood in the city of London, as a counting-house
clerk. He claimed a good name for his family, and added that
Mr. William Jordan, editor of the London Literary Gazette,
was his brother-in-law, having married his only sister. He
avowed himself about sixty years of age, and had been a resi-
dent of New Brunswick ever since the vear 1809. He first
came across the Atlantic as a government agent, for the trans-
action of business connected with the Fur Trade ; and when he
settled in the province, tho whole country was an untrodden
wilderness. Since that time he had followed a variety of em-
ployments, had acquired a competence, but lost it through the

H-..

\ ' -y

le'lv.

'4\:

318

THE HERMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

IIJ

rascality of friends. He told me he was a widower, and
that he had one son, who resided in Frederickton, and was ra-
pidly acquiring a reputation for his knowledge of engineering.
"It does my heart good to remember this fact," continued my
friend, " and I do hope that my son will not disgrace his fiimily,
as some people seem to think I have done. The God-forsaken
inhabitants of this region have a habit of calling me a crazy old
man. God be praised ! 1 know they overshoot the mark in
that particular ; if I have lost my reason, I can tell the mock-
ing world that I have endured trouble enough to make even a
philosopher a raving maniac. By patient and unwearied toil,
I have won two small fortunes, but botii of them were snntched
away, and I was left a beggar. The nome government took
pity on me, and offered to make me a present of land, adding
that I was at liberty to make my own selection. I accepted
their offer, and selected five hundred acres on the Aroostook,
making the fall we visited this evening the centre of my do-
main. I duly received a deed for the property, and having
concluded that my fellow-men were as tired of me as I was of
them, I bolted for the wilderness, and have lived here ever
since. Yes, sir, for twelve years have I been the only human
inmate of this rude cabin ; I ought to except, however, ' a lucid
interval' of some nine months, which I speiit in England, about
four years ago, visiting my friends and the favorite haunts of
my childhood. To enjoy even that little luxury, I was com-
pelled to sacrifice a portion of my land."

"But why do you not sell your entire property," I remarked,
" and take up your abode among men, where your knowledge
might be made available?"

" Knowledge, indeed !" replied the hermit philosopher; "all
that I possess, you might easily hide in the bowl of an acorn.
I do know enough to cast my eyes heavenward, when crushed
by misfortune, but the ^ame knowledge was possessed by the
worm upon which I accidentally trod this morning. What is
man, at his best estate, but a worm ! But this is not answering
your question. My only reason for not selling this property
is, that I cannot find a purchaaer. Most gladly would I jump

' i

THE HERMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

319

at the chance, and then I would mingle with my fellow-men,
and endeavor to be of them. Travelers, who sometimes pass
through this region, tell me that my property is worth $5000 ;
know it to be worth at least that amount, but I should be
glad to sell it for $3000, and that, too, on a credit of ten years.
The interest would, indeed, be a meagre income, but I have
schooled myself in the ways of poverty ; and though it once
cost me $2000 to carry me through a single year, I can tell
you that my expenses for the last five years have not averaged
more than tioenty dollars, which I have had to obtain as best I
could. But you must not misunderstand me. The little clear-
ing which surrounds my rookery, contains six acres, and as I
cultivate them with all diligence, they keep me from actual
starvation."

" But it strikes me, my dear sir, that you ask rather an ex-
travagant price for your uncultivated land ?" I asked this
question with a view of obtaining some information in reference
to the valley of the Aroostook, and was not disappointed. The
reply of my friend was as follows :

" I can convince you that you are mistaken. In the first
place, the water privilege which my land covers, is acknow-
ledged to be the most valuable on the Aroostook, and I may
add, that it is abundiintly fertile. Aid then think of the val-
ley, at the very threshhold of which I am located ! It is one of
the most beautiful and luxuriant in this northern wilderness ;
and the only thing against it, though I say it that should not,
is the fact, that nearly five miles of its outlet belongs to the
English Government, while the remainder belongs to the Uni-
ted States. The whole of it ought to be yours ; but if it were,
I would not live here a year ; I am near enough to you now ;
directly on the boundary line between your country and mine.
The Aroostook, I verily believe, is one of the most important
branches of the St. John. Its general course is easterly, but
it is exceedingly serpentine, and according to some of your
best surveyors, drains upwards of a million acres of the best
soil in Maine. Above my place, there is hardly a spot that
might not be navigated by a small Bteamboat, and I believe the

m-'^'*

'*^Hrr*«b

"~ 'm

!'f, ??if5

'I*;.

It ^''■

iAm^3

mr^

iB^^li^

JflU'lvl M

fpl^^

sjji.n

&^^-:

K^:'

1^:1

H^"

820

THE HEIIMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

time ia not far distant when your enterprising Yankees will
have a score of boats employed here, in carrying their grsin to
market. Before that time comes, however, you must dig a
canal or build a railroad around my beautiful waterfall, which,
I am sure, could be done for $20,000. An extensive lumber-
ing business is now carried on in the valley, but its future
prosperity must depend upon its agriculture. Already are its
shores dotted with well-cultivated farms, and every year is ad-
ding to their number, and the rural beauty of those already in
existence. The soil of this valley is rich, and composed prin-
cipally of what is called alluvial (not interval) land, together
with the quality known as upland. In many portions, however,
you will find some of the most chaj-ming intervals in the world.
The trees of this region are similar to those of your Northern
States. The staple crop of the Aroostook farmer is wheat.
Owing to the shortness of our seasons, corn does not arrive at
perfection, and its cultivation is neglected. Rye, barley, and
oats, all flourish here, but much more buckwheat is raised than
any other grain besides wheat. Grasses flourish here in great
perfection, and the farmer of Aroostook will yet send to market
immense (juantities of cattle. As to the climate, it is not so
severe as is generally supposed. Snow falls early, and conti-
nues late, which prevents the ground from freezing very deep.
And when summor comes, as you may testify, the weather is
sufficiently warm tor every necessary purpose. Now, sir, do
you not think I have made out a clear case?" I answered in the
affirmative, and thanked him for the information he had given
me. Like Oliver Twist, however, I was anxious for " more,"
and therefore endeavored to start him on another subject. In
this lauilable effort I fully succeeded, and by merely expressing
the opinion that he must lead a very lonely life in this remote
wilderness.

" Not at all, not at all," replied my friend. " It is my good
fortune to belong to that class of men who depend upon books,
the works of nature, and themselves, for happiness, and not
upon a selfish and heartless world. As to my books, they are
not very abundant, nor are they bound in fancy morocco ; but

THE HERMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

321

the substance of them is of the right sort. Foremost among
them is the Bible, which tells even a poor devil like me that he
is a man. Perfect in their generation are the truths of this
glorious old book ; they have an important bearing upon every-
thing; and they should be studied and cherished with jealous
care. But the earth-born men, with whom I hold daily com-
munion, are the mighty Shakspeare, the splendid Gibbon, the
good and loving brother poets Thomson and Wordsworth, the
gifted but wayward Burns, the elegant and witty Addison, and
the ponderous Johnson. These are the minds which always
afford me solid satisfaction. As to the immense herd who keep
the printing presses of the present day constantly employed,
I know nothing about them, and care still less. And now as
to the pleasures which are brought to mo by the revolving sea-
sons. They are indeed manifold, and it is pleasant to remem-
ber that 'Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.*
The hills which surround my cabin I look upon as familiar
friends ; not only when crowned with a wreath of snow, but
when rejoicing in their summer bloom ; and a more peaceful
and heart-soothing stream can nowhere be found, than the one
which flows along by my door ; and you know from experience
that it abounds in the finest of salmon and trout. The sur-
rounding woods furnish me with game, but their greatest trea-
sures are the ten thousand beautiful birds, which make melody
in their little hearts, and afford me unalloyed pleasure for at
least one-half the year. I seldom have occasion to kill these
feathered minstrels for food, and the consequence is, whenever
I go out into my fields to work, they gather around nse without
fear, and often come so near, as to be in my very way. The
quail and the wren, the jay and the blue-bird, the mocking-bird,
the partridge, the fish-hawk, the eagle, and the crow, and also
the swallow, the owl and whippoorwill, all build their nests
within a stone's throw of my door, and they know that the
friendless old man will do them no harm. And then what ex-
quisite pleasure do I continually enjoy in watching the ever-
varying changes of the year ! First, when the primrose tells
me that the rains are over and gone, and I go forth in the re-
21

'^.,

. ^^'1

•^^SjiM

T, ; ■ '

5P3

822

THE HERMIT >)F AROOSTOOK.

fresliing sunshine to sow my seeds ; secondly, when the glorious
summer ia in its prime, with its dewy mornings and lovely twi-
lights ; .also in the sober autumnal time, when I thoughtfully
count the leaves floating on the bosom of the stream ; and then,
again, when the cold winds of winter are howling around my
cabin, and I sit in my pleasant solitude before a roaring fire,
building palaces, in my mind, as I peer into the burning embers.
Yes, sir, I have learned to live without excitement, and to de-
pend upon myself for the companionship I need. I do, indeed,
occasionally steal out of my beautiful vale, and mingle with my
fellow-men ; but I always return perfectly contented with my
lot. After all, I do not believe that the world could add greatly
to my stock of happiness, even if I were a worshipper of Mam-
mon, a braAvling politician, or a responsible statesman."

*' But, Mr. Egger, it strikes me that your manner of life is
not in keeping with the Bible, for which you have expressed so
much reverence."

" That may be true," was the reply, " but I make no sancti-
monious pi'otensions. I do but little to promote the happiness
of my feliow-mcn, andl congratulate myself with the idea that
I do as little to make thera miserable. The influence of ray
example amounts to nothing, and I give no bread to the poor,
because I have none to give. But let us drop the subject ; I
feel that your questions may so annoy me, that I shall be com-
pelled to abandon this glorious old wilderness, and become a
denizen of the busy and noisy world."

A breach having thus been made in our discourse, I examined
my watch, and found it to be near twelve o'clock. My com-
panion took the hint, and immediately proceeded to fix a sleep-
ing place that would accommodate us both. This was done by
spreading the clothes of the wooden bedstead upon the floor.
While going through with this little operation, he held high
above his head a ragged old bed-quilt, and asked me what I
thought Queen Victoria would say, if she had such an article
to rest her royal limbs upon ? He then pointed to the particu-
lar spot which ho wanted mo to occupy, giving as a reason for
the request, that there was a hole on the opposite 'side of his

THE HERMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

828

mansion, where toads, rats, and weasels were frequently in the
habit of entering, and he was afraid that they might annoy me,
though he had never been disturbed by their nocturnal visits.
This information appeared to me somewhat- peculiar, but did
not prevent me from undressing myself to lie down. When
about half through this business, however, I was actually com-
pelled to take a seat on account of a laughing fit brought upon
me by one or two stories, which my host related for my special
benefit. What a strange man, indeed ! thought I, and making
another effort, I tumbled into bed. In the meantime, my com-
panion had stripped himself of everything but his shirt, and in
spite of the frailty of his " spindle shanks," was throwing him-
self into the attitudes for which Kerable was distinguished,
whose acting he had often witnessed in olden times. I was
already quite exhausted with excess of laughter, and I verily
believed that the queer antics of the anchorite and philosopher
would be the death of me. But I felt that I must go to sleep,
and, in self-defence, partly covered my head with the end of a
quilt, and almost swore that I would not be disturbed again.

I did not swear, however, and was consequently again dis-
turbed. I had just fixed my head upon the pillow, as I thought,
for the last time, when I was startled by a tremendous yell pro-
ceeding from without the cabin. I rushed out of the house as
if the old Harry himself had been after me, and beheld my
spare and venerable friend sitting upon a stump, gazing upon
the rising moon, and listening to the distant howl of a wolf*
with one of his feet dangling to and fro like the pendulum of a
clock. *' Wasn't that a musical yell, my boy?" were the first
words spoken by the hermit mad-cap ; and then he went on to
point out all the finer features of the scene spread out before
us. Silently flowed the stream, grand and sublime looked the
mountains, clear and very blue the sky, spirit-like the moon and
stars, and above the neighboring water-fall ascended a column
of spray, which was fast melting into a snowy cloud. After
enjoying this picture for a reasonable time, my companion then
proposed that we should enjoy a swim in the river, to which ar-
rangement I assented, even as did the wedding-guest of Cole-

!!r -m

it .

^^^ ill -^

■ 'W -M

,fyi>^*«

Uif

«.B!lii !

fi'l'

iitr -'--l

w"^

324

THE HERMIT OF AROOSTOOK.

ridge to the command of the Ancient Mariner. Our hath
ended, we reti'rned to the»cahin, and in the course of half an
hour, the hermit and the stranger were side hy side in the arms
of sleep.

On opening my eyes in the morning, the pleasant sunshine
was flooding the floor through the open door, and my friend,
who had risen without disturbing me, was frying some trout
ivhich he had just taken in the stream.- I arose, rolled up the
bed, and prepared myself for breakfast, which was particularly
relished by the giver and the receiver. I spent the forenoon
rambling about the estate of my old friend, and enjoying the
surrounding scenery ; I then proposed to him that he should
come down and be my guest at the tavern on the St. John for
a day or two, which invitation was accepted. Before my re-
turn, I took a sketch of the secluded vale vhere stands the
cabin of my friend, also a profile of his own handsome face, and
a view of his water-fall ; and the time of my departure having
arrived, the philosophic hermit returned to his solitary cottage
among the mountains.*

* While on a second visit to tho Valley of the St. John, in 1852, I had
the pleasure of again meeting my Aroostook friend, whom I found in good
health, and devoting himself to mercautilu pursuits at the mouth of the
beautiful Tobifiuc.

i\\

THE RIVER ST. JOHN.

MM n

I HAVE recently performed a pilgrimage along the valley of
the St. John, and as T am about to leave the river, it is meet
that I should give my reader a record of my observations. The
distance from the Falls of St. John to the city of that name,
is two hundred and twenty miles. The width of the river varies
fropi a quarter of a mile to two miles, and the depth from two
to forty feet. That portion lying north of Frederickton abounds
in rapids and shallows, and is navigated only by flat-bottomed
boats, which arc taken up slircam by horse power, but descend
with the current. Here, for tho most part, the shoves are
mountainous, the more elevated peaks being named Mars Hill
and Moose Mountain, — and only partly cultivated, with high
and picturesque banks ; tho lowest portion, however, is of a
level character, and presents tho appearance of an ancient and
highly cultivated country, and is navigated by steamboats, and
the common sail-craft of tho country. The soil all along the
shores is good, but seems better adapted for grass than wheat,
and I can sec no good reason for its not becoming greatly dis-
tinguished as a grazing country.

Tho lower part of tho river is not famous for pictorial fea-
tures, though it abounds in beautiful landscapes ; but a place
called the Narrows, situated at tho southern extremity, is
worth visiting. At this point, tho stream is not more thau five
hundred yards wide, and as it is bounded on cither side by a
high rocky barrier, the current ordinarily passes through with
groat rapidity. Tho tides of tho ocean ascend about thirty
miles, and it is only when the tide is high that tho point in

^ •MW»»il

)

#;'

326

THE RIVER ST. JOHN.

^.^m

J /

1 1> ■.

:?^'

question can bo navigated. Though these narrows are a great
annoyance to the navigator, by the lover of the picturesque
they are highly esteemed. Not only are they beautiful in them-
selves, but, OAving to the peculiarity of the place, it is frequently
the case, that the broad expanse of water above it is covered
with a fleet of sloops, schooners, steamboats, towboaty, and
timber crafts, which present a peculiar and agreeable panorama.
The river abounds with salmon and shad, and the former, though
rather small, may be taken by the angler in the principal tri-
butaries. They are not sufficiently abundant, however, to con-
stitute an important article of commerce, and the conunon
modes of taking them arc with the spear and the drift net.

The principal towns on the St. John are, Woodstock, French
Village, Froderickton and St. John. The first of these is one
hundred and fifty miles from the mouth, and tjjough a r!i;.r;^cil,
yet an interesting villiigo. So far as its natural prodiichons
are concerned, I am disposed to compliment this I'rovini^o in
the highest terms ; but I must say, that the ignorance, idleness,
and gouging character of its common people, have made mo
quite wil'ing to take my departure tliertTrom. The expenses!
of travelling arc enormous. Stage faros average about twelve
cents per mile, and if you happen to spend a week at a miser-
able country tavern, you will have to pay two d(dlars per day for
board. Witli a few exceptions, there is hardly a cotintn/ tavern
in the Province, where the traveller is not in danger of lining
robbed. It was my good fortune to be robbed only twice, hut
I was particularly forlunate. This v.-i rather severe, but I am
driven to talk in this strain, though I would not be under.stood
as reflecting upon the better classes of the Province.

The stagc-routo from the Grand Falls to St. John passes
through Woodstock, but the distance from this place to the
American town of Iloulton is ten miles, and in this direction
there is also an established stage-route to Bangor.

The next place on the St. .lohn of any note, is French Vil-
lage. It contains a thousand souls — most of them Milielto In-
dians. They live in frame and log houses, and though tjiey
pretend to do some farming, they arc chiefly engaged in hunt-

'l-i.,.

THE RIVER ST. JOHN.

327

ing and fishing. They are a good-looking race, speak English
fluently, and are the followers of a Roman Catholic priest, who
lives among them, and officiates in a small chapel which was
built by the Jesuits at an early day. This society is said to
be one of the most ivcalthy in the Province. The chief of the
village is one Louis Beir. lie lives in a vdry comfortable and
.well-furnished house, is rather a handsome man, dresses in
a half-savage manner, and while lie offers his visitor a comfort-
able chair, he invariably seats himself upon the floor in the
true Indian fashion.

Frederickton is at the head of the stoaml)oat navigation, and
distant from St. John ninety miles. Between these two places
there runs a morning and evening boat, and the summer travel
is quite e.xten ive. Frodorickton contains about five thousand
inhabitants, composed of Irish, Scotch, and English. It dis-
plays three principal streets, running north and south, and
some half dozen hamlsome public buildings, including an Epis-
copal church, after the Tuscan order, a court-house, and a col-
lege. The town is situated on a level plain, and its suburbs
arc made beautiful by the number of rural residences which
attract the eye in every direction. The clia oad poplar both
8(10111 to flourish here, and add much to the pict"resqucneas of
the place and vicinity. The business of Frede. ■ .vton ii only
of a second-rate character, and it has become what it U, merely
from tlio fact that it is the seat of government. This fact has
also had a tendency to collect a good society in the placi', and
its " ton," though in a small way, have bet /i disposed to cut a
dash. The "mother rarlianient," I believe, has recently
talked much about removing tho seat of government to St.
John, and the lovers of Frederickton arc sorry and a little
angry at the jiossibility of such a change.

The city of St. John staiuls at the mouth of tho river of ihat
name, and is also laved by tho waters of tho Bay of Fuik^v.
I hate cities, but suppose that 1 must stop a moment in the one
alluded to. It is a luisiness place, planted among rocks, con-
tains some twenty thousand inhabitants, (tv>'o-thirds of whom are
Irish,) and in this port, at tho present time, ia moored a fleet

'r"'% ll

■ .^.

'11

1*^^-^-.

\j':

328

THK RIVER ST. JOHN.

of two hi ndred ships. Its public buildings are numerous, the
jGnest of which are the court-house, an Episcopal church of the
Doric order, another after the Gothic, and a Presbyterian
church after the Corinthian order. The city is defended by a
fortress, which presents a handsome appearance as you ap-
proach the port. The merchants of the place are chiefly em-
ployed in the square-timber trade, and have, heretofore, doup,
an extensive business. This trade, however, I am inclined to
believe, is rapidly running out. On the opposite side of the
St. John River is a picturesque point or hill, called the Carlton
Hill. It is surmounted by a massive block-house, and com-
mands an extensive view of the Bay of Fandy, the spring tidos
of which rise to the height of sixty feet. Before leaving tht
St. John liiver, I must pay a passing compliment to the Sal-
mon and Tobique rivers, which are among its most charming
tributaries. The first abounds in salmon, but the second in
salmon and much beautiful scMuery, having a number of falls,
gorges, and narrows, which arc ..nsurpassed. At the mouth of
the Tobique, too, is situated a village of t>vo or three hundred
intelligent and inoffensive Milicito Indians, and a few days
that I spent with a couple of these in their canoe, taking
sketches, killing trout, trying for salmon, and listening to their
stories, were among the happiest I ever experienced. The
Tobique has its source in a spring-lake, and its two most pic-
turesque features arc the lied Itapida, so called from ihe sand-
stone over which it runs, and a place called The Narrows,
which is a chasm nearly a mile long, and rendered exceedingly
charming by a happy blending of the hemlock, pine?, spruce-
cedar, and birch trees, interspersed with hoary lichens, '.riic
Indians alluded to, havo a Reservation of good land on this
river, consisting of sixteen hundred acres ; and on questioning
the oldest man of the tribe about his national history, all that
I could learn was, that they once lived on the Rcstigonchc.

THE PENOBSCOT RIVER.

One week ago I was fighting ■^ith the musquetos and black
flies, on the head-Avaters of the Penobscot, and now that I am
upon the ocean once more, I fancy that my feelings are allied to
those of an old moose that I lately saw stfinding in a moun-
tain lake, with the water up to his lips. The noble rivei*
which I have mentioned, is all my fancy painted it, and in
sp'te of its insect inhabitants, I shall ever remember it with
pleasure.

The length of this stream from the mouth of its bay to where
its principal branches come together, is about one hundred and
forty miles ; from this junction, to the fountain head of the
west branch, the distance is supposed to bo one hundred and
fifty miles, wliilo the cast branch is probably only one hundred
miles in length. Both of these streams rise in the midst of a
mountain wilderness, looming above which is old Katahden,
the loftiest mountain in Maine, elder brother to Mount Wash-
ington, in New Hampshire, and it towers into the sky so
grandly, that nearly all the people who inhabit the northern
part of Maine look upon it as a familiar friend. The two
leading branches of the Penobscot run through a mountainous
region, abounding in rapids and waterfalls. Among them arc
the Grand Falls, so-called, which arc fifty feet high ; Gordon's
Fall, which is twenty-five feet high ; and the Slugundy Falls,
consisting of a great number of picturesque schutos and rapids.
And then, upon some of the other tributaries of the Penobscot
arc to bo found immense bogs, which have been poetically-
termed *' Oceans of Moss," and are noted for their desolate

- M

330

THE PENOBSCOT RIVER.

and lonely appearance. One of these, lying near the source
of the Mattawamkeg, is said to be fifteen miles long, upon
which, in the olden times, a great battle is said to have been
fought between the Penobscot and Mohawk Indians, and in
which were found, a few years ago, the remains of slain war-
riors, in a perfect state of preservation. The aborigines mani-
fested their affection for this river by giving it no less than three
names, characteristic of its diverse peculiarities, viz., Penob-
scot, or Rocky River ; Baam-tu-guai-took, or Broad Water ;
and Gim-sit-i-cooJc, or Smooth Water. The soil of this region,
generally speaking, is good, but remains in its original wild-
ness. Its stationary inhabitants are few and far between ; but
it gives employment to about three thousand lumbermen. They
spend the winter wielding the axe in the forests, and the spring
and summer in driving down the stream logs which they have
prepared fur tl'o saw-mill?, which are mostly located on the
lower part of the Penobscot. Nine months in the year they
labor without ceasing, but usually appropriate to themselves a
play spell of three months, which is the entire autumn. They
are a young and powerfully built race of men, mostly New
Englandors, generally unmarried, and, though rude in their
manner, and intemperate, are quite intelligent. They seem to
have a passion for their wild and toilsome life, and, judging
from their dresses, I should think possess a fine eye for the
comic and fantastic. The entire apparel of an individual
usually consists of a pair of gray pantaloons and two red llan-
nel shirts, a pair of long boots, and a woollen covering for the
head, and all these things are worn at one and the same time.
The lioad-C' cy'w^ alluded to, when first purchased, is what
might l»e called a hat, Iji t the wearers invariably take particu-
lar pai;:;} to transform tuo article into such queer slia[)os as to
render it indescribable. Sometimes they take the crown and
tie it in the shape of a fool's cap, and sometimes they trim the
rims with a jack-knife into many different fashions. Their
wages vary from twenty to thirty dollars per month, and they
are chielly employed by the lumber merchants of Eaugor, who
furnish them with the necessary supplies.

THE PENOBSCOT RIVER.

831

The Penobscot is unquestionably the most fruitful lumber
river in the United States, and its pine and hemlock forests
seem yet to be inexhaustible; and the State of Maine is in-
debted to tiie lumber business for many of its beautiful cities
and towns.

From the Forks of the Penobscot to Bangor, the distance is
about sixty miles. This portion of the river is nearly a quar-
ter of a mile Avidc. The banks are rather low and level, and
somewhat cultivated. The water is deep and clear, and the
current strong. Generally speaking, the scenery of the river
is not remarkable, and were it not for the numerous islands, it
might be considered tame, by the lover of a mountain land.
The islands alluded to, however, are exceedingly beautiful.
Covered as they arc with venerable elms, and containing no
underbrush, but a continuous plot of green, they have all the
appearance of cultivated parks. The stage route from Wood-
stock, after reaching the Penobscot, continues along the eastern
bank, and as the coaches are comfortable, and the horses good,
the ride is quite pleasant. The principal village, of which tliere
are four, is Old Town. It is a busy little place, and the pre-
sent termination of a railroad from Bangor, which is twelve
miles distant. Directly opposite Old Town is a small island,
where resides a remnant of the Penobscot Indians. They num-
ber some four hundrtd souls, and are just sufficiently civilized
to lead a very miserable sort of life.

I come now to speak of Bangor. It is a well built and iiand-
somc city, eighty nulos from the ocean, and contains about
eight thousand inhabitants. It is at the head of tide water
navigation, and has a good harbor, where I counted, from ovj
point, nearly two Inuidrcd sails. The principal article of tr ido
is lumber, which is distinguished for its good qualities. A / the
licaviest merchants arc engaged in the lumber trade, and dmost
overybody de:'ls in it to a limited extent. A few thousand
sliiugU's will pay your .tailor for a coat, a few loads of plank
will settle your account with the butcher, and buntlles of clap-
boards are ghuiiy received by the gro(,'er, in exchange for his
sugar and tea.

i.-'-~-^y

;n#*

5fil«*l

ef'- i]

"'">s-

1 '^■■■';^

?'.^ iM'

r, -fH

f^mi\^ -ill,

332

THE PENOBSCOT RIYEB.

With the people of Sanger I was very much pleased. Their
manners and habits are stamped with the true New England
character ; they mind their own business, and are distinguished
for their intelligence, virtue and hospitality.

The distance from Bangor from the ocean is eighty miles.
For twenty miles, the river averages three quarters of a mile in
width, when it gradually widens into an expansive bay or gulf.
The water is deep, always covered with vessels, and abounds in
salmon, which are taken only with the net. The shores are
hilly and well cultivated, and the towns of Bucksport, Frank-
fort, Belfast, and Tbomaston, as you pass them, present each a
thriving and pleasant appearance.

Ik T"!!

■s*

^"^m

It, , 'I"

MOOSEHEAD LAKE AND THE KENNEBECK RIVER.

1 i-

MoosBHKAD Lake is the largest and the wildest in New
England. It lies in the central portion of the State of Maine,
and distant from the ocean about one hundred and fifty "liles.
Its length is fifty miles, and its width from five to fifteen. It
is embosomed among a brotherhood of mountains, whose high-
est peak has been christened with the beautiful name of
Katahden. This mountain is twenty miles from the Lake, is
supposed to be six thousand feet high, and commands an unin-
terrupted view of the two great valleys of the Penobscot and
Kennebeck. The ascent to the top is precipitous and rugged,
but when attained, is found to consist of an area of perhaps
one thousand acres of level land, resting on a granite founda-
tion. In former times the Indians were fearful of hunting
upon this mountain, because it was thought to be the abode of
Matahonda or the author of Evil. All of these northern moun-
tains, excepting Katahden, which is woodless on top, from base
to summit, are covered with a dense forest, in which the pine is
by far the most abundant. Moosehead is the grand centre of
a vast wilderness region, whose principal denizens are wild
beasts. During the summer months, its tranquil waters remain
in unbroken solitude, unless some scenery-hunting pilgrim, like
myself, happens to steal along its shores in his birchen canoe.
But in the winter the case is very difierent, for then, all a^ong
its borders, may be heard the sound of the axe, wielded by a
thousand men. Then it is that an immense quantity of logs
are cut, which are manufactured into lumber at the extensive
mills down the Kennebeck, which is the only outlet of the lake.

% f^^

'1 ■ V

t^r':

. '■■ I ■;

k 'it. xiii'

iif

834

MOOSEHEAD LAKE AND THE KET7NEBEC RIVER.

A winter at Moosehcad must be attended with much that is
rare, and wihl, and exciting, not only to the wealthy proprietor
wli ) has a hundred men to supLiintend, but even to the toiling
chopper himself. Look at a single specimen of the gladdening
scenes enacted in that forest world. It is an awful night, the
winds wailing, the snow falling, and the forests making a moan.
Before you is a spacious, but rudely built log cabin, almost
covered with snow. But now, above the shriek of the storm,
and the howl of the wolf, you hear a long, loud shout, from a
score of human mouths. You enter the cabin, and lo, a merry
band of noble men, some lying on a buft'alo-robe, and some
seated upon a log, while the huge fire before them reveals every
feature and wrinkle of their countenances, and makes a picture
of the richest coloring. Now the call is for a song, and a young
man sings a song of Scotland, which is his native land ; a mug
of cider then goes round, after which an old pioneer clears his
throat for a hunting legend of the times of old ; now the cun-
ning jest is heard, and peals of hearty laughter shake the build-
ing ; and now a soul-stirring speech is delivered in favor of
Henry Clay. The fire-place is again replenished, when, with a
happy and contented mind, each woodman retires to his couch,
to'sleep, and to dream of his wife and children, or of the buxom
damsel whom he loves.

Tlie number of logs which these men cut ip a single winter,
is almost incredible, and the business of conveying them to the
lake upon the snow gives employment to a great many addi-
tional men and their oxen. Ihe conscf^uence is, that large
quantities of flour, potatoes, pork, and hay, are consumed ; and
as these things are mostly supplied by the farmers of the Ken-
nebcck, winter is the busiest season of the year throughout the
region. When the lake is released from its icy fetters in the
spring, a new feature of the logging business comes into opera-
tion, which is called rafting. A large raft contains about eigh-
teen thousand logs, and covers a space of some ten acres. In
towing them to Kennebeck, a small steamboat is employed,
which, when seen from the summit of a hill, looks like a living
creature struggling with a mighty incubus. But the most pic-

HOOSEHEAD LAKE AND THE KENNEBEC RIVER.

335

,/*"S ' ■

turesque thing connected with this business is a floating log-
cabin, callca a Raft-IIouse, which ever attends a raft on its way
to the river. During the summer, as before stated, Moosehead
Lake is i perfect solitude, for the " log-chopper" has become a
"log driver" on the Kennebeck — the littl(> steamer having been
moored in its sheltc ing bay, near the at the south end

of the lake, and the toiling oxen bee U 1 to enjoy their

summer Sabbath on the farm of their

The islands of Moosehead Lake, o are only four:

Moose and Deer Islands at the soutlicru extremity, Sugar
Island in the large eastern bay, and Farm Island in a north-
western direction from that. All of those are covered with
beautiful groves, but the tinu is not far distant when they will
be cultivated farms. Trout are the principal fish that flourish
in its waters, and may be caught at any time in great abun-
dance. And thereby hangs a. fish story.

It was the sunset hour, and with one of my companions, I
had gone to a rocky ledge for the purpose of trying my luck.
Our bait was squirrel meat, and I was the first to throw the
line. It had hardly reached the Avater, before I had the plea-
sure of striking and securing a two pound trout. This threw
my friend into a perfect fever of excitement, so that he was
everlastingly slow in cutting up the squirrel ; and it may be
readily supposed that I was somewhat excited myself; so I
snatched the animal out of his hands, and with my teeth, made
a number of good baits. The conclusion of the whole matter
was, that in less than forty minutes we had caught nearly
seventy pounds of -salmon trout. But the fish of Moosehead
are not to be compared with those of Iloricon in point of deli-
cacy, though they are very largo, and very abundant. The
reason of this is, that its waters arc not remarkably clear, and
a good deal of its bottom is muddy. Moose Ilivcr, which is tho
principal tributary of the Lake, is a narrow, deep, and pictur-
esque stream, where may be caught the common trout, weighing
from one to three pounds.

In this portion of Maine every variety of forest game may
be found ; but the principal kinds are the gray wolf, the black

I,-'

,«*■'•■'«•■••«•

■5

''*''^ ■■■> v'^,'h

,i*-»v-i -.Jim

1'.

law ....4.-''^:i-:%L 1

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

iic

1.0

1.1

■so •^~ HHH!

Ui 1^ ■2.2

ll^ll'-^ ii4

Hiotographic

Sciences

Corporalion

«■

^. '*-

33 WIST MAIN STRUT

WnSTIR.N.Y. 14SI0

(716) 172-4903

336

MOOSBHEAD LAKB AND THE KENNEBEC RIVER.

bear, the deer, and the moose. Winter is the appropriate sea-
son for their capture, when they afford a deal of sport to the
hunter, and furnish a variety of food to the forest laborers.
Deer are so very plenty, t lat a certain resident tuld me, that,
in the deep snow of last winter, he caught some dozen of them
alive, and having cut a slit m their ears, let them go, that they
might recount to their kindred their marvellous escape. But
the homeliest animal, the most abundant, and the best for eat-
ing, is the moose. I did not kill one, but spent a night with
an old hunter who did. During the warm summer night, these
animals, for the purpose of getting clear of the black fly, are
in the habit of taking to the water, where, with nothing but
their heads in sight, they remain for hours. It was the evening
of one of those cloudless nights whose memory can never die.
We were alone far up the Moose River, and it seemed to me,
" we were the first that ever burst into that forest sea." On,
board a swan-like birch caroe wc embarked, and with our rifles
ready, we carefully and silently descended the stream. How
can I describe the lovely pictures that we passed ? Now we
peered into an ink-black recess in the centre of a group of elms,
where a thousand ^e-flies were revelling in joy ; — and now a
solitary duck shot out into the stream from its hidden home,
behind a fallen and decayed tree ; now we watched the stars
mirrored in the sleeping waves, and now we listened to the hoot
of the owl, the drum of the partridge, the song of a distant
water-fall, or the leap of a robber-trout. It was not far from
midnight when my companion whispered, " Hush, hush !" and
pointed to a dim spot some hundred yards below. The first
chance was allotted me, so I took the best aim I could, and
fired. I heard the ball skip along the water, and on coming
near, found my mark to be only a smooth rock. Two hours
more passed on, one small mo'^^e was killed, and at day-break
we were in our cabin fast asleep. As to deer hunting there is
hardly a lake in Maine that does not afford the rarest sport.
The common mode is to " drive" the animals, until they take
to the water, and then follow them in a canoe. To succeed in
this sport you must have well trained dogs and Indian or half-
breed oanoe men.

MOOSEHEAD LAKE AND THE KENNEBEC RIVER

337

The principal outlet of Moosehead Lake is the Kennebec,
•which now "demands my song." It is the second river in
Maine, and one of the most beautiful in the country. Its name
is derived from that of a famous aboriginal chief, who was
called Kannahi«, and -whose dominions extended all along its
course ; and a journey down its charming valley borrows in-
terest from the fact that the traitor, Arnold, before his dis-
grace, led through this ■wilderness his ill-fated but romantic
expedition,*which ended in defeat beneath the walls of Quebec.
Instead of w^atcring a wilderness, as I had supposed, all along
its valley, for over a, hundred miles, are fertile and extensive
farms, with here and there a thriving village, inhabited by an
intelligent and industrious people. Its principal tributary is
Dead River, and the spot at the junction of the two is called
the Forks. The cultivated region stops here, and" between this
point and Moosehead, the distance is twenty-five miles, and this
portion is yet a forest wilderness.

The principal attraction m, the Forks is a tavern, kept
by one Burnham, who is a capital fellow to guide the lover of
Nature, or tho trout fisherman, to Moxy Fall or Nameless
Lake, which are in the immediate vicinity. Tho mountains
about here are quite lofty, and exceedingly picturesque, abound-
ing in the maple, the oak, the pine < nd hemlock. Emptying
into the Kennebec, a few miles north of the Forks, is a superb
mountain stream, named Moxy, af.er an Indian who was there
drowned many years ago. Winding for a long distance among
wild ravines, and eternally singing to tho woo8s a trumpet
song, it finally makes a sudden plunge into a chasm more than
a hundred feet in depth. Tho perpendicular rocks on either
side rise to an immense height, their tops crowned with a
" peculiar diadem of trees," and their crevices filled up with
dark-green verdure, whence occasionally issues, hanging grace-
fully in the air, beautiful festoons of tho ivy, and clusters of
the mountain blue-bell. Tho depth of tho pool was never told,
and its waters wash against the granite walls in a perpetual
gloom. On one occasion I visited it when there was a high
freshet, and saw what I could hardly have believed from a de-
22

\ 'i\

•fu

'*l^

/''i

'••i i:.) uri-

838

HOOSEHBAD LAKE AND THE KENNEBBO RIVBB.

scription. I stood on an elevated point, in front of the Fall,
when my eye rested upon an immense log, some sixty feet long,
coming down the foaming stream with all the fury of a madr
dened steed ; presently it reached the precipice,-^then cleaved
its airy pathway down into the hell of waters, — was completely
out of sight for at least two minutes ; then, like a creature en-
dowed with life, it shot upward again, clear out of the water,
made another less desperate plunge, and quietly pursued its
course into the Kennebec. *

In speaking of Nameless Lake, it is necessary that I should
be a little egotistical. It is a fairy-liko sheet of pure water in
the heart of the mountain wilderness, only about a mile in
length, but full of trout. The proprietor was of the party that
accompanied me on my first visit. "While approaching it, the
remark was 'made that it was yet without a name ; when it was
agreed that it should be christened after that individual who
should on that day throw the most successful fly. As fortune'
woulJ have it, the honor was :^varded to me; and on a guide-
boprd in the forest, three miles from Burnham's, may be seen
the figure of a hand, and the words " Lake Lanman." There
ftands my written name, exposed "to the peltings of the piti-
less storm ;" and in a few years, at the longest, it will be washed
away, and thp Vee which supports it be mingling with the dust.

Not to atf c description of the scenery of the Kenne-

beck, which t . a J be faithfully given only by the pictures of a
Cole ■■? Durand, I will take my readers down its valley, and
tell them what I know respecting its beautiful villages.

Tho first in order is Bingham, situated on a fertile " inter-
val," surrounded with picturesque hills, charming and quiet as a
summer day, and containing within the jurisdiction of its town an
uncommon^ fine farm, whoso proprietor manufactures large
quantities of maple sugar. This town, by tho way, was named
after William Bingham, whoso landed estate in the wilds of Maine
amounted to upwards of two millions of acres, and among whose
descendants are two daughters, who married the Brothers Baring
of London. Solon is tho next village in the Kennebec valley,
remarkable for nothing but Caritunk Falls, which arc twenty

HOOSEHBAD LAKE AND THE KENNEBEC RIVER.

889

feet high, and run through a gorge fifty-feet wide. Here I
saw some twenty men " driving" the logs that had been lodged
all along the river when it was low. It is a laborious life Avhich
these men lead, but they receive good pay, and meet with many
interesting adventures. They generally have the soul to enjoy
fine scenery, and therefore demand the respect of the intelligent
traveller. Anson, though in the valley of the Kennebec, is
situated on Seven Mile Brook, and is a flourishing business
place. From its neighboring hills may be seen the sky-piercing
peaks of Mount Blue, Saddleback, Bigelow and Mount Abra-
ham, which are the guardian spirits of Maine. The town is
distinguished for its agricultural enterprise, and the abundance
of its wheat, having actually produced more than is reported
from any other town in the State. Norridgwock, so named
after a tribe of Indians, is a charming little village, and asso-
ciated with a celebrated Indian chief named Bomazcen, and
also with the self-sacrificing labors of Father Sebastian Rallc,
a devoted and learned Jesuit from France, who perished on this
spot by the hands of British soldiers, falling dead at the foot of
a cross he had erected in the village over which he ruled. Not
far from here is a water-fall, also a picturesque bend of the
Kennebec, where empties Sandy River, upon which are many
extensive farms. Skowhcgan is'a thriving village, where there
are fine falls, which I could never look upon without thinking
of the famous Glen's Falls, in New York, of which they are a
counterpart, though on a smaller scale. Many and very dear
to mo are my recollections of its "choice bits" of scenery, of
the fine singing I there heard, of the acquaintances there
formed, and of the pleasant literary communings which were
mine in company with one of the best and most intellectual of
women. Waterville, the next town on the river, is the seat of
a Baptist college, and the head of navigation on account of the
Ticonic Falls. It is the centre of an extensive farming district,
which fact, together with the literary taste of its people, makes
it an uncommonly interesting place. Augusta, the capital of
tho State, is also on the Kennebec, and with its Stato House,
and other State buildings, its admirably conducted hotels, its

V ■ '-'1

1'"

'-I , it-

340

MOOSBHEAD LAKE AND THE KENNEBEC RIVBR.

commanding churches, its large bridge, and pleasant residences,
is one of the most picturesque and interesting towns in the
whole of New England. Hallowell, two miles below Augusta,
was once a great place for business, and is still a very pleasant
town, though unable to compete with its rival, the capital. Gar-
diner, further down, is a famous place for saw-mills ; and lum-
bering I look upon as one of the surest kinds of business. It
contains the handsomest church-building in the State, and a
number of fine residences. Bath is the next and most southern
town on the Kennebec ; it is quite a large place, where there
is a great deal of shipping done, and is now in a flourishing con-
dition. The sail down tho river from here is a most delightful
one, for the eye revels over a succession of pleasant farms, quiet
headlands, solitary islands, and vessels of every kind, passing
up and down t[ie stream. Even to the present day, the Ken-
nebec abounds in salmon, which are caught with nets from the
first of May till midsummer. To take them with the hook is
fine sport, indeed, and for the manner in which I conquered a
solitary individual, I refer my reader to a certain passage in
Scrope on Salmon Fhldng. Few are tho rivers that I love
more than the Kennebec, and very dear to me are its manifold
associations.

lETTEKS

THE AIJJIGHANY MOUNTAINS;

.. '»■

1 ' ■' .' '

fr*f!lii

f4^'

i^^fd>^

■^i

P¥^

iii

^
f

,"'-( ^,-,|^!#tSBJ»;

' ' r:^*'■•.it.

'*-!>^

DAHLONEGA.

The Cherokee vord Dah-lon-e-ga eigmfieB the place of yellow
metal; and is now applied to a small hamlet at the foot of the
Alleghany Mountains, in Lumpkin county, Georgia, reputed to
be the wealthiest gold region in the United States. It is^ re-
corded of De Soto and hif/ followers that, in the sixteenth cen-
tury, they explored this entire Southern country in search of
gold, and unquestionahle evidences of their work have heen
discovered in various sections of the State. Among these tes-
timonials may he mentioned the remains of an old furnace, and
other works for mining, which have been brought to light by^
recent explorations. But the attent?on of our own people was
first directed to this region while yet the Cherokees were in
possession of the land, though the digging ,^ gold was not made
a regular business until after they had beep politely banished
by the General Government. As soon as the State of Georgia
had become the rightful possessor of the soil (according to law)
much contention and excitement arose among the people as to
who should have the best opportunities for making fortunes;
and, to settle all difficulties, it was decided by the State Legis-
lature that the country should be surveyed and divided into
lots of forty and one hundred and sixty acres, and distributed
to the people by lottery. For several years subsequent to that
period, deeds of wrong and outrage wore practised io a very
great extent by profligate adventurers who flocked to this El
Dorado. In the year 1888, however^ the Government estab-
lished a branch Mint at this place, since which time a much
better 8(ate of things has existed in Dahlonega.

i'^-y

\[ i .|.«K^iifci.

844

DAHLONEQA.

The appearance of this village, though not more than a dozen
years old, is somewhat antiquated, owing to the fact that the
houses are chiefly built of logs, and, having never been painted
are particularly dark and dingy, but uncommonly picturesque
in form and location. The population of the place is about
five hundred. It is located upon a hill, and though the country
around is quite uneven, having been deeply ravined by atmos-
pheric agents, when viewed !n connection with the mountains,
(some ten or fifteen miles off,) which seem to hem it in on three
sides, presents the appearance of a pit to a magnificent amphi-
theatre. On approaching Dahlonega I noticed that the water-
courses had all been mutilated with the spade and pickaxe, and
that their waters were of a deep yellow ; and having explored
the ^country since then, I find that such is the condition of all
the streams within a circuit of many miles. Large brooks
(and even an occasional river) have been turned into a new
channel, and thereby deprived of their original beauty. And
of all the hills in the vicinity of Dahlonega which I have visited
I have not seen one which is not actually riddled with shafts
and tunnels. The soil is of a primitive character, quite yel-
lowish in color, composed of sand and clay, a:"\d uncommonly
easy to excavate with the spade. Heretofore the gold ore of
Lumpkin county has been obtained from what has been called
the deposit beds, but the miners are now beginning to direct
their attention to the veined, ore, which is supposed to be very
abundant in all directions. It is generally found in quartz and
a species of slate stone. The gold region of Georgia, strictly
speaking, ia confined to a broad belt, which runs in a north-
eastern and southwestern direction from Dahlonega, which may
be consid/ared its centre. Several auriferous veins traverse the
town, and it is common after a rain to see the inhabitants busily
engaged in hunting for gold in the streets. That huge quanti-
ties are thus accumulated in these days I am not ready to be-
lieve, whatever may have been done in former years. I know
not that any very remarkable specimens of gold ore have been
found in the immediate vicinity of Dahlonega, but an idea of
the wealth of the State in this particular may be gathered from

DABLONEOA.

345

>"1

the fact, that several lumps .have heretofore been found in diffe- '
rent sections, which were worth from five hundred to one thou-
sand dollars. More valuable specimens have been fonnd in
North Carolina ; but while Virginia, the Carolinas, and Alabama
have all produced a goodly amount of gold, I have heard it
conceded that Georgia has produced the largest quantity and
decidedly the best quality.

And now with regard to the fortunes that have been made in
this region. They are very few and far between. But, by
way of illustration, I will give two or three -incidents which
have come to my knowledge. In passing, however, I may
repeat the remark made to me by an intelligent gentleman,
that the expenses of digging out the gold in this section of
country have ever exceeded the gain by about one hundred per
cent. Immense amounts of labor as well as money have been ex-
pended, and generally speaking, the condition of the people has
not been improved ; the very wealth of the country has caused
the ruin of many individuals. The following story is a matter
of popular history. After the State Legislature had divided
the Cherokee Purchase into lots and regularly numbered them,
it was rumored about the country that lot No. 1052 was a
great prize, and everybody was on tiptoe with regard to its dis-
tribution by the proposed lottery. At that time 1052 figured
in the dreams of every Georgian, and those figures were then
far more popular than the figures 54 40 have been in these
latter d&ys. Among the more crazy individuals who attended
the lottery was one Mosely, who had determined either to draw
the much talked of prize or purchase it of the winner^ even
though it should be at the cost of his entire property, which
was quite large. The drawing took place, and 1052 came into
the possession of a poor farmer named Ellison. Mosely imme-
diately mounted his horse and hastened to Ellison's farm, where
he found the child of fortune following his plough. The would-
be. purchaser made known the object of bis visit, and Ellison
only laujghed at the impetuosity of his impatient friend.
Ellison said he was not anxious to sell the lot, but if Mosely
muMt have it, he might have it for $30,000. Mosely acceded

.,t

^■\"¥-

'*•.
">-^

•***

'««i*

§i^

846

DAHLONEGA.

'iP-

l<^i: ':\

' to the terms, and in paying for the lot sacrificed nfost of his
landed and personal property. The little property Trhich was
left him he was compelled to employ in working his mines ; he
labored with great diligence for several years, but he could
never make both ends meet, for his mines were not at all distin-
guished for their richness. In process of time he was compel-
led to sell 1052 for what it would bring, and having squander-
ed that remnant of his former wealth, he left the country for
parts unknown, a veritable beggar. But, what is more singu-
lar than all, the present proprietor of 1052 is that identical
man Ellison, who is annually realizing a handsome sum of
money from the newly-discovered gold ore found in the bowels
of his lottery lot.

Another instance of good fortune, unattended with any alloy,
is as follows: Five years ago, a couple of brothers, who were
at work upon the Georgia railroad, took it into their heads to
visit Dahlonega and try their luck in the mining business.
They were hard-working Irishmen, and understood the science
of digging to perfection. They leased one or two lots in this
vicinity, and are now reputed to be worth $15,000.

And now that it has come into my mind, I will mention
another lottery anecdote, which was related to me by an old
resident. Byway of introduction, however, I ought here to
mention that this region is famous for the number and size of
its rattlesnakes, and that our hero had an utter abhorrence of
the reptile. Among those who obtained prizes at the great
drawing, before alluded to, was an individual from the southern
part of the State, who drew a lot in this vicinity. In process
of time he came to the north to explore his property, and had
called at the house of a farmer near his land, for the purpose
of obtaining a guide. In conversing with the farmer, ho took
occasion to express his dislike to the rattlesnake ; whereupon
the farmer concluded that he would attempt a speculation.
Remembering that in going to the stranger's land he might (if
he chose to do so) pass through an out-of-the-way ravine which
abounded in the dreaded snake, the farmer beckoned to the
stranger, and they took their way towards the ravine; After

DAHLONEOA.

347

thej bad arrived at the spot, hardly a rod did the pedestrians
pass without hearing the hiss of a snake or seeing its fiery
tongue, and the stranger was as completely frightened as any
one could possibly be by a similar cause. In his despair he
turned to his companion and said :

"Are snakes as plenty as this all over the country?"

" I can't say about that, stranger, but one of my neighbors
killed about a hundred last year, and I've beam tell that your
land is very rich in snakes."

"Now I ain't a going any further in this infernal region, and
I want to know if you have a horse that you'll give me for my
land — gold ore, snakes, and all."

"I have, and a first-rate horse too."

" It's a bargain."

On the following morning, the stranger, like the hero of a
novel, might be seen mounted on a Dahlonega steed, pursuing
his devious pathway along a lonely road towards the south pole*

Of the uncounted gold mines which are found in this region,
the most fruitful at the present times lies about twenty-five
miles from here, in a northerly direction, and is the property
of Mr. Lorenzo Dow Smith. And the success which has ever
attended Lorenzo is worth recording. In a conversation that
I had with him in this p'ace, where he is now staying, I re-
marked that I should like to embody his history in a paragraph
of my note book, and he replied to me as follows:

"I was born in Vermont; I came into this Southern country
twenty-four years ago as a clock-pedler, where I drove a good
business. I used to spend my summers among the mountains
of the Cherokee country, partly for the purpose of keeping
away from the fever, and partly with a view of living over again
the days of my boyhood, which were spent among the Green
Mountains. I made some money, and when the gold fever
commenced I took it and went to speculating in gold lots,
though I spent many years without finding lots of gold. I
associated with bear hunters, and explored every corner and
stream of this great mountain land, away to the north, and
have seen- more glorious scenery than any other live man. I'm
forty years old, urmarried, lovu good liquor, and go in for

*f:'Mi

I 1 iJjii WW

L<^

848

DAHLONEGA.

^ ' -rt**"!^^

!■ 1. !

■?;> .

i( ■!

-■* '"'■i.

' '■'; ... •

"■**v>

1 r

" %

^i *

^ ;■■* w

|j'<-''^.i:1t

v,,'l/

«.:'"^'1\ s

^-1 * ■

having fun. 'Bout four years ago, it came into my thinking
mug that there must be plenty of gold in the bed of Coosa
creek, ivhich runs into Coosa river. I traded for a lot there,
and went to work. I found a deposit, gave up work, and went
to leasing small sections, which are now worked by a good many
men, and give me a decent living. I have had all sorts of luck
in my day — good luck and bad luck. When I'm prosperous I
always hope to be more prosperous still, and when I have bad
luck, I always wish for worse luck — if it'll only come. I never
allow myself to be disappointed. The longer I live the more
anxious am I to do some good to my fellow-men. I've passed
the blossom of my life, and I don't expect to live many years
longer ; I haven't lived as I ought to have lived, but I hope it'll
be well with me when I come to take my final sleep. But
enough. I'm going out to my mine on a visit to-morrow, and if
you'll go with me, I'll show you some real Vermont trout, and
mountain peaks whicli would shame the camel's hump of old
Yankee land."

I did not accept Lorenzo's tempting invitation, but I made
up my mind that he was an original. Some of the scenery to
which he alluded I shall visit in due time.

In former times, as before intimated, the miners of this region
were mostly foreigners and an abandoned race, but the principal
deposits and veins are now worked by native Georgians, who
are a very respectable class of people. Among them are many
young men, who labor hard and are intelligent. The dangers
of mining in this region are rather uncommon, owing principally
to the lightness of the soil. Many of th& accidents which occur,
however, arc the result of carelessness ; and the most melan-
cholly one I have heard of is as follows : A man named Hunt,
together with his son and another man named Smith, were
digging for gold on the side of a neighboring hill. At the end
of a tunnel, which was some thirty feet long, they excavated a
large cave or hall, which they had neglected to support in the
usual manner. They apprehended no danger, but were told by
a neighbor that their conduct was imprudent. The elder Hunt
thought he would be on the safe side, and on a certain afternoon
went into the woods to out the ueoe^sary timber, while his son

DAHLONEGA.

349

and Smith continued their labors in the cave. Night came on,
and the father, having accomplished his task, retired to his
home. On taking his seat at the supper table it came into his
mind that his son and Smith were somewhat later in coming
home than usual. He waited awhile, but becoming impatient,
set out for the cave, and, on reaching it, to his utter astonish-
ment and horror, he found that the roof of the cave had fallen
in. The alarm was given, and the whole village was assembled,
to extricate the unfortunate miners, and by the aid of torches
the bodies were recovered. The boy was found in a running
attitude, as if overtaken while endeavoring to escape, and the
man Smith was found clinging tu a single post, which had been
vainly used to prop the ceiling of the cave.

With regard to the means employed by the miners I have but
one word to say. The deposit gold is extracted from the gravel
by means of a simple machine called a rocker, which merely
shifts and washes out the metal. The vein gold is brought to
light by means of what is called a pounding-mill, which raduces
the rock to the consistency of sand, when the ore is separated
by the use of quicksilver. In this particular department of
their business the Dahlonega miners confess themselves to be
comparatively ignorant ; and what proves this to be the case is
the fact, that some of their ore has frequently been worked over
a second time with considerable profit.

But the prominent attraction of Dahlonega, I have not yet
touched upon — I allude to the Mint Establi%hnent. The build-
ing itself, which is quite large, has a commanding appearance.
It was erected in 1837, at an expense of $70,000, and the ma-
chinery which it contains cost 330,000. It is built of brick,
but stuccoed so as to resemble stv>ne. It gives employment to
nine men, who receive for their services, collectively, the sum
of $12,000. The Superintendent, who also acts as Treasurer,
is J. F. Cooper, (son, by the way, of the famous actof of that
name ;) the Coiner is D. II. Mason, who has a very interesting
cabinet of minerals, and the Assayer is J. L. Todd. The
Dahlonega Branch Mint and the one located at Charlottes-
ville, North Carolina, are the only ones in the United States
which coin the gold on the very spot where it is found. The

■^t^lw.

'*->wl

V m^^

350

DAHLONEQA.

New Orleans Branch, as -well as the mother Mint in Philadel-
phia, are chiefly occupied with foreign ores. Of the two first
mentioned, Dahlonega has thus far been the most successful,
the coinage in one year having amounted to $600,000. At the
present time, however, the business of this mint is said to be on
the wane. The coinage of the three branch Mints mentioned
above is uniform with that of the mother Mint, and it is all
systematically tested there for approval. It thus appears that
the whole establishment is a branch of the Treasury Department
of the United States, and under the supervision of the Secre-
tary of the Treasury, and an account of the progress and con-
dition of the bureau is annually given to Congress.

The smallest amount of gold ore received at the Dahlonega
Mint by law has to be worth one hundred dollars. When the
miner has obtained a sufficient amount, he takes it to the Mint
and delivers it to the Superintendent. That officer takes an
account of it, and passes it over to the Assayer, who fixes its
value, when the miner receives the allotted sum of money. The
operation of coining is performed by the power of steam, and
may be briefly described by the words rolling, drawing, cutting,
and stamping. Some of the Dahlonega gold is said to bo as
pure as any in tho world, but it is commonly alloyed with silver.
One or two specimens were shown mo, which were just one half
silver : and yet it is said that silver ore is nowhere found in
this section of country. Tho value' of pure gold is one dollar
per pennyweight : and I have learned since I came here that
every genuine American eagle is made by law to contain one-
twentieth of silver and one-twentieth of copper. Tho word
bullion^ which wo hear so often mentioned among commercial
men, is a misnomer, for it is legitimately applied only to un-
wrought gold, washed grains or gold dust, amalgamated cakes
and balls, and melted bars and cakes ; and tho word ingot is
applied to a bar of gold, which may be manufactured into two
hundred half eagles, or ono thousand dollars. To give a sci-
entific account of what I have seen in tho Dahlonega Mint
would probably please my scientific readers, but, as I am not
writing for them, they must excuse mo. " What is writ, is writ;
would it wore worthier 1"

TRIP TO TRACK ROCK.

DURINQ my stay at Dahlonega, where I arrived in April, I
heard a good deal about a native wonder, called " Track Rock,"
which was reported to be some thirty miles off, on the north-
western side of the Blue Ridge Mountains. On revolving the
information in my mind, I concluded that this rock was identi-
cal with one which had been mentioned to me by Professor
James Jackson, of the University of Georgia, and I also re-
membered that the Professor had shown me a specimen of the
rock he alluded to, which contained the imprint or impression
of a human foot. My curiosity was of course excited, and I
resolved to visit the natural or artificial wonder. I made the
pilgrimage on foot, and what I saw and heard of peculiar in-
terest on the occasion the reader will find recorded in the pre-
sent letter.

In accomplishing the trip to " Track Rock" and back again
to this place I was two days. On the first day I walked only
twenty miles, having tarried occasionally to take a pencil sketch
or hear the birds, as they actually filled the air with melody.
My course lay over a very uneven country, which was entirely
uncultivated, excepting some half dozen quiet vales, which pre-
sented a cheerful appearance. The woods were generally com-
posed of oak and chestnut, and destitute to a considerable ox-
tent of undergrowth ; the soil was composed of clay and sand,
and apparently fertile ; and clear sparkling brooks intersected
the country, and wore the first that I had sc^n in Georgia. I
had a number of extensive mountain views, which were ore
beautiful than imposing ; and among the birds that attracted

L-m

ll'^

t: (Ml

w^'lill

'- 't^

ii'i#^

''''^

Bl-S

' fm

l-j^', » .'■' ■ J

■ iJfc

».}*•■'■" '""^ '""^:

r|l

mM'

' ^wE

iNilnij^lii

''''^'-(JH

pfii^^l'

■4.^ iw

^^c^^Wi

■ 'ia|

KyiiT^'PM

'*»i«,^!

wilMft^

'•^'vJSj

J^^bi

lisiL^iii

^H*:

Ps5

. 1 s i>»*T

•^'^•i

1 ; i.J«to*k

'■i

Kffiaa^-: T*

>i.''<r

HMIPS||ttNti«

k'i ' >

i; j'->; ^^^pl

llli^if^

!:;|

ilKHI

<)'' 1

jlraBr^i *■'

¥'

l^«i#'i

^^P^

IPlr^

/ ■ ■ ''

IKn!v '

I'-:

HSoRbLi {

''^ iMK

'Inr

',^^

K'-K'-'-

|fe|

npg

Mb'wPJH

352

TRIP TO TRACK ROCK.

my attention were the red-bird, mocking-bird, quail, lark, wood-
pecker, jay, king-bird, crow, blue-bird, and dove, together with
a large black-bird, having a red head, (apparently of the wood-
pecker genus,) and another smaller bird, whose back was of a
rich black, breast a bright brown, with an occasional white
feather in its wing, which I fancied to be a species of robin.
Since these were my companions, it may be readily imagined
that " pleasantly the hours of Thalaba went by."

I spent the night at a place called " Tesantee Gap," in the
cabin of a poor farmer, where I was most hospitably entertained.
My host had a family of nine sons and three daughters, not
one of whom had ever been out of the wilderness region of
Georgia. Though the father was a very intelligent man by
nature, he told me that he had received no education, and could
hardly read a chapter in the Bible. He informed me, too, that
his children were but little better informed, and seemed deeply
to regret his inability to give them the schooling which he felt
they needed. " I have always desired," said he, " that I could
live on some public road, so that my girls could occasionally see
a civilized man, since it is fated that they will never meet with
them in society." I felt sorry for the worthy man, and endea-
vored to direct his attention from himself to the surrounding
country. lie told me the mountains were susceptible of culti-
vation even to their summits, and that the principal productions
of his farm were corn, wheat, rye, and potatoes ; also, that the
country abounded in game, such as deer, turkeys, and bears,
and an occasional panther. Some of the mountains, he said,
wore covered with hickory, and a peculiar kind of oak, and that
gray squirrels were very abundant. The streams, he informed
me, were well supplied with large minnows, by which I afterwards
ascertained he meant the brook trout.

While conversing with my old friend, an hour or so before
sunset, we were startled by the baying of his hounds, and on
looking up the narrow road running by his home, we saw a fine
looking doe coming towards us on the run. In its terror the
poor creature made a sudden turn, and scaling a garden fence
was overtaken by the dogs on a spot near which the wife of my

TRIP TO TRACK ROCK.

858

host was planting seeds, when she immediately seized a bean-
pole, and by a single blow deprived the doe of life. In a very
few moments her husband was on the ground, and, having put
his knife to the throat of the animal, the twain re-entered their
dwelling, as if nothing had happened out of the common order
of events. This was the first deer that I ever knew to be killed
by a woman. When I took occasion to compliment the dogs of
my old friend, he said that one of them was a " powerful rfin-
ner ; for he had known him to follow a deer for three days and
three nights." Having in view my future rambles among the
mountains, I questioned my companion about the snakes of this
region, and, after remarking that they were " very plenty," he
continued as follows : " But of all the snake stories you ever
heard tell of, I do not believe you ever heard of a snake fight.
I saw one, Monday was a week, between a bla?^ f"c:r and a
rattlesnake. It was in the road^ about a mile from here, and
when I saw them the racer had the other by the back of the
head, and was coiling his body all around him, as if to squeeze
him to death. The scuffle was pretty severe, but the racer soon
killed the fellow with rattles, and I killed the racer. It was a
queer scrape, and I reckon you do not often see the like in your
country."

On the following day I passed througli the Blue Ridge, and
visited the ''Mecca of my pilgrimage," and was — disappointed.
I was pilotc^ to it by a neighboring mountaineer, Avho remarked,
"This is Track Rock, and it's no great shakes after all." I
found it occupying an unobtrusive place by the road side. It
is of an irregular form and quite smooth, rises gradually from
the ground to the height of perhaps three fuct, and is about
twenty feet long by the most liberal measurement. It is evi-
dently covered with a great variety of tracks, including those
of men, bears or dogs, and turkeys, together with indistin.t;
impressions of a man's hand. Some of the impressions arc half
an inch thick, while many of them appear to bo almost entirely
effaced. The rock seemed to bo a species of slate- colored soap-
stone. Tho conclusion to which I have arrived, after careful
examination, is as follows : This rock is located on what was
28

5(?

^ ^'

854

TRIP TO TRACK ROOK.

once an Indian trail, and, having been used by the Cherokees
as a resting place, it was probably their own ingenuity which
conceived f nd executed the characters which now puzzle the
philosophy of many men. The common opinion is, however,
that these tracks were originally made in a soft mud, which
time has transformed into stone. But how came the human
impressions there ? The scenery about Track Rock is not re-
markable for its grandeur, though you can hardly turn the eye
in any direction without beholding an agreeable mountain land-
scape. In returning through Teaantce Gap and the valley
below, I met with no adventures worth recording, and will
therefore conclude my present epistle with a paragraph con-
cerning the plantation where I am now tarrying.

The proprietor is an intelligent and worthy gentleman, who
is reputed to be the nabob of this region. He acquired a por-
tion of his wealth by digging gold, but is now chiefly devoting
himself to agriculture. He complains of the little advancement
which the people of Northern Georgia are making in the artH
of husbandry ; and thinks that it would be much better for the
State if the people could be persuaded to follow the plough,
instead of wasting their time and money in searching for gold,
which metal, he seems to think, is nearly exhausted in this*
section of country.. Among the curious things which I have
seen under his roof, is a small but choice collection of minerals,
fossil remains, and Indian relics, belonging to his eldest son.
Among the latter may be mentioned a heavy stone pipe, made
in imitation of a duck, which was found in Macon county,
North Carolina, fifteen feet below the surface ; and also a small
cup, similar to a crucible, and made of an unknown earthy
material, which was found in this county, about nine feet below
the surface, and directly under a largo tree. But the post
boy's horn is blowing, and I must bring ray " disjointed chat"
to a conclusion.

VALLEY OF NACOOCHEE.

I NOW write from the most charming valley of this southern
wilderness. The river Nacooche is a tributary of the Chatta-
hooche, and, for this country, is a remarkably clear, cold and
picturesque stream. From the moment that it doffs the title of
brook, lind receives the more dignified one of river, it begins to
wind itself in a most wayward manner through a valley which
is some eight or ten miles long, when it wanders from the vision
of the ordinary traveller, and loses itself among unexplored
hills. The valley is perhaps a mile wide, and, as the surround-
ing hills are not lofty, it is distinguished more foe its beauty
than any other quality ; and this characteristic is greatly en-
hanced by the fact, that while the surrounding country remains
in its original wilderness, the valley itself is highly cultivated,
and the eye is occasionally gratified by cottage scenes, which
suggest the ideas of contentment and peace. Before the win-
dow where I am now writing lies a broad meadow, wliere horses
and qattle are quietly grazing, and from the neighboring hills
comes to my car the frequent tinkling of a bell, which tells me
that the sheep or goats arc returning from their morning ram-
bles in the cool woods.

And now for the associations connected with the valle^ of
Nacoochee. Foremost among them all is a somewhat isolated
mountain, the summit of which is nearly three milca distant
from the margin of the valley. It occupies a conspicuous posi-
tion in all the views of the surrounding country, and from one
point partially resembles tlie figtiro of a crouching bear, from
which circumstance it was named the YonaJi Mountain — ^yonah

856

YALLET OF NAC<ACHEE.

being the Cherokee for bear. The mountain bear seems to be
proud of its exaited position, and well it may, for it is the natu-
ral guardian of one of the sweetest valleys in the world. Its
height is nearly two thousand feet above the water in its
vicinity.

But the artificial memorials of Nacoochee are deserving of a
passing notice. On the southern side of the valley, and about
half a mile apart, are two mounds, which are the wonder of all
who see them. They are, perhaps, forty feet high, and similar in
form to a half globe. One of them has been cultivated, while
the other is covered with grass and bushes, and surmounted,
directly on the top, by a large pine tree. Into one of them an
excavation has been made, and, as I am informed, pipes, toma-
hawks, and human bones were found in great numbers. Con-
nected with these is an Indian legend, which I will give my
readers presently.

Many discoveries have been made in the valley of Nacoo-
chee, corroborating the general impression that De Soto, or
some other adventurer in the olden times, performed a pilgrim-
age through the northern part of Georgia in search of gold.
Some twelve years ago, for example, half a dozen log cabins
were discovered in one portion of the valley, lying ten feet
below the surface ; and, in other places, something resembling
a furnace, together with iron spoons, pieces of earthenware, and
leaden plates were disinterred, and are now in possession of the
resident inhabitants. In this connection might also be men-
tioned the ruin of j^n old fort, which may now be seen a fev/
miles north of Nacoochee valley. It is almost obliterated from
the face of the earth, but its various ramparts can be easily
traced by a careful observer. Its purpose we can easily divine,
but with regard to its history even the Indians are entirely
ignorant.

Connected with the valley of Nacoochee are the following
legends, which were related to me by the " oldest inhabitant"
of this region.

In this valley, in the olden times, resided Koatoi/eak, or the
"Sharp Shooter," a chief of the Cherokee nation. He was

VALLET OF KACOOCHEE.

367

renowned for his bravery and cunning, and among his bitterest
enemies was one Choneata, or the " Black Dog," a chief of the
Tennesaees. In those days there was a Teh.dSsee ipaiden re-
siding in the low country, who was renowned for her beauty in
all the land, and she numbered among her many suitors the
famous Kostoycak and four other warriors, upon each of whom
she was pleasea to smile; whereupon she discarded all the others,
and among them the Tennessee chief Chonesta. On returning
to his own country he breathed revenge against Kostoyeak, and
threatened that if he succeeded to the hand of the Yemassee
beauty, the Cherokee's tribe should be speedily exterminated.
The merits of the four rival chiefs were equal, and the Yemassee
chief could not decide upon which to bestow his daughter.
Kostoyeak was her favorite, and in order to secure a marriage
with him, she proposed to her father that she should accept
that warrior who could discover where the waters of the Savan-
nah and those of the Tennessee took their rise among the
mountains. Supposing that no such place existed the father
gave his consent, and the great hunt was commenced. At the
end of the first moon Kostoyeak returned with tho intelligence
that he had found a gorge — now called the gap of the Blue
Ridge, as well as Raburn Gap — where the two great rivers
'' shake hands and commence their several journeys, each sing-
ing a song of gladness and freedom." In process of time the
Yemassee chief was convinced that Kostoyeak to)d a true story,
and he wds, therefore, married to the long-loved maiden of his
choice.

Enraged at these events, Chonesta assembled his warriors,
and made war upon the fortunate Cherokee and his whole tribe.
The Great Spirit was the friend of Kostoyeak, and he was tri-
umphant. He slew Chonesta with his owb hand, and destroyed
his bravest warriors, and finally became the possessor of half
the entire Tennessee valley.

Years rolled on, and Kostoyeak as well as his wife were num-
bered among the dead. They were buried with every Indian
honor in the valley of Nacopchee, and, to perpetuate their
many virtues in after years, their several nations erected over

858

VALLET OF NAOOOCHEB.

their remains the mounds which now adorn a portion of the
Valley where they lived.

The other legend to which I have alluded is as follows : The
meaning of the Indian word Nacoochee is the " Evening Star,"
and was applied to a Cherokee girl of the same name. She
was distinguished for her beauty, and a strange attachment for
the flowers and the birds of her native yalley. She died in her
fifteenth summer, and at the twilight hour of a summer day.
On the evening following her burial, a newly-born star made
its appearance in the sky, and all her kindred cherished the
belief that she whom they had thought as lovely as the star,
had now become the brightest of the whole array which looked
down upon the world, and so she has ever been remembered (as
well as the valley where she lived) as Na-coo-chee, or the Evening
Star. The spot of earth where the maiden is said to have been
buried is now covered with flowers, and the waters of the beau-
tiful Nacoochee seem to be murmuring a perpetual song in
memory of the departed.

That this letter may leave a permanent impression upon my
reader's mind, I will append to it the following poem written
by a Georgia poet, Henry R. Jackson, Esq.

D;0unt ^m4—Mt flf $mat\tt.

Before me, as I stand, his broad, round head

Mount YoNAH lifts the neighboring hills above,
While, at his foot, all pleasantly is spread

Nacoochse's vale, sweet as a dream of love.

Cradle of peace I mild, gentle as the dove
Whose tender accents from yon woodlands swell,

Must she have been who thus has interwove
Her name witl^hee, and thy soft, holy spell,
And all of peace which on this troubled globe may dwell 1

Nacoocoee — in tradition, thv sweet queen —
Has vanished with her maidens : not again

Along thy meadows shall their forms be seen ;
The mountain echoes catch no more the strain
Of their wild Indian lays at evening's wane ;

VALLET OF NACOOCHEE.

359

No more, whore rumbling branches interwine,

They pluck the jasmine flowers, or break the cane
Beside the marshy stream, or from the vine
Shake down, in purple showers, the luscious muscadine.

Yet round thee hangs the same sweet spirit still 1

Thou art among these hills a sacred spot,
As if shut out from all the clouds of ill

That gloom so darkly o'er the human lot.

On thy green breast the world I quite forgot —
Its stern contentions — its dark grief and care,

And I breathed freer, deeper, and blushed not
At old emotions long, long stifled there.
Which sprang once more to life in thy calm, loving air.

hmU

tlm

'^41

tw'n^

*ii

lp ' •'•■■i

4»

ll: Jt"[

fli

111*-"

I saw the last bright gleam of sunset play

On Yonah's lofty head : all quiet grew
Thy bosom, which beneath the shadows lay

Of the surrounding mountains ; deeper blue

Fell on their mighty summits ; evening threw
Iler veil o'er all, and on her azure brow

A bright star shone; a trusting form I drew
Yet closer to my side ; above, below.
Within where peace and hope life may not often know !

Thou loveliest of earth's valleys ! fare thee well I

Nor is the parting pangless to my soul.
Youth, hope and happiness with thee shall dwell,

Unsullied Nature hold o'er thee control.

And years still leave thee beauteous as they roll.
Oh ! I could linger with thee ! yet this spell

Must break, e'en as upon my heart it stole.
And found a weakness there I may not tell —
An anxious life, a troubled future claim me ! fare thee well I

M:^ '/

W&i-i

ii,™

B^ffiy^

"lii '^'

iSgiSit'^l

■'• **^: .:i

CASCADE OF TUCCOAH.

The little village where I am now staying is decidedly the
most interesting in the northern part of Georgia. There is
nothing particularly fine about its buildings, and it only con-
tains some three hundred inhabitants, but it commands a mag-
nificent prospect of two ranges of the Alleghany Mountains.
It is remarkable for the healthfulness of its climate, and is the
summer resort of between forty and fifty of the most wealthy
and accomplished families of Georgia and South Carolina, a
number of whom have erected and are erecting elegant country
seats in its immediate vicinity. It contains a mineral spring,
which is said to have saved the lives of many individuals ; and
it patronizes two hotels, where the tourist may obtain all the
luxuries of the North as well as the South, and in a style which
must gratify and astonish him, when he remembers that he has
reached the end of carriage traveling, and is on the confines of
an almost impassable wilderness. The water-power in its
neighborhood would supply at least fifty factories, and it yields
more than a suflicient quantity of iron ore to furnish constant
employment to an extensive sr citing establishment and furnace.
Its soil is of the best quality, and yields i« great abundance
every variety of produce peculiar to a temperate climate. But
the chief attraction of Clarksville is, that it is the centre of
some of the most romantic scenery in the world, and the stop-
ping-place for all those who visit Nacoochoe Valley, Yonali
Mountain, the Tuccoah Cascade, Tallulah Falls, and Tr:
Mountain. The first two curiosities alluded to have already
been described, and I now purpose to introduce to my reader

CASCADE OF TUCCOAH.

861

the peculiar and beautiFul Cascade of Tuccoah, reserving the
two other marvels of nature for future letters.

The Tuccoah is a very sraall stream — a mere brooklet, and
for the most part is not at all distinguished for any other qua-
lity than those beloil^ing to a thousand other sparkling streams
of this region ; but, in its oceanward course, it performs one
leap which has given it a reputation. On account of this leap
the aborigines christened it with the name of Tuccoah or the
beautiful. To see this cascade, in your mind's eye, (and I here
partly quote the language of one who could fully appreciate its
beauty,) imagine a sheer precipice of gray and rugged rock, one
hundred and eighty-six feet high, with a little quiet lake at its
base, surrounded by sloping masses of granite and tall shadowy
trees. From the overhanging lips of this cliff, aloft, between
your upturned eyes and the sky, comes a softly flowing stream.
After making a joyous leap it breaks into a shower of heavy
spray, and scatters its drops more and more widely and minute,
until, in little more than a drizzling mist it falls upon the
smooth, moss-covered stones lying immediately beneath. All
the way up the sides of this precipice cling, wherever space is
afforded, little tufts of moss and delicate vines and creepers,
contrasting beautifully with the solid granite. There is no
stunning noise of falling waters, but only a dripping, pattering,
plashing in the lake ; a murmuring sound, which must be very
grateful during th6 noontide heat of a summer day. There
comes also a soft cool breeze, constantly from the foot of the
precipice, caused by the falling shower, and this ripples the
Burface of the pool and gently agitates the leaves around and
overhead.

Connected with the Cascade of Tuccoah is an Indian tradi-
tion, which was related to me by a gentleman connected with
the Georgia University, who obtained it from a Cherokee chief.
The occurrence is said to be Avell authenticated, and runneth
in this wise : A short time previous to the Revolution, the Che-
rokees were waging a very bitter warfare against a powerful

ibo of Indians who dwelt in the country of the Potomac,
inuring ae of their pitched battles, it so happened that the

■"i-i.^

U^lL^

^•Kft

862

CASCADE OF TUCCOAH.

-lif^i

Cherokees made captive about a dozen of their enemies, whom
they brought into their own country safely bound. Their in-
tention was to sacrifice the prisoners ; but, as they wished the
ceremony to be particularly imposing, on account of the fame
of the captives, it was resolved to postpolfo the sacrifice until
the following moon. In the meantime the Cherokee braves
went forth to battle again, while the prisoners, now more se-
curely bound than ever, were left in a large wigwam near Tuc-
coah, in the especial charge of an old woman, who was noted
for her savage patriotism.

Day followed day, and, as the unfortunate enemies lay in
the lodge of the old woman, she dealt out to them a scanty sup-
ply of food and water. They besought the woman to release
them, and ofiered her the most valuable of Indian bribes, but
she held her tongue and remained faithful to her trust. It was
now the morning of a pleasant day, when an Indian boy called
at the door of the old woman's lodge and told her that he had
seen a party of their enemies in a neighboring valley, and he
thought it probable that they had come to rescue their fellows.
The woman heard this intelligence in silence,* but bit her lip in
anger and defiance. On re-entering her lodge another appeal
for freedom was made, and the prisoners were delighted to see
a smile playing about the countenance of their keeper. She
told them she had relented, and was willing to let them escape
their promised doom, but it must be on* certain conditions.
They were first to give into her hands all their personal efiects,
which she would bury under the lodge. She did not wish to
be discovered, and they must therefore depart at the dead of
night. She did not wish them to know how to find their way
back to the lodge, whence they might see fit to take away her
reward, and she therefore desired that they should be blind-
folded, and consent to her leading them about two miles through
a thick wood, into an open country, when she would release
them. The prisoners gladly consented; and, while they were
suffering themselves to be stripped of their robes and weapons,
a heavy cloud canopied the sky, aa if heralding a storm. At
the hour of midnight loud peald of thunder bellowed through

CASCADE OP TUCCOAH.

363

the firmament, and terribly flashed the lightning. The night
and the contemplated deed were admirably suited, thought the
warriors, and so thought the woman also. She placed leathern
bands around the eyes of her captives ; and, having severed
the thongs which confined their feet, bade them follow whither
she might lead. They were connected with each other by iron
withes ; and so the woman led them to their promised freedom.
Intricate, and winding, and tedious was the way ; but not a
murmur was uttered, nor a word spoken. Now has the strange
procession reached a level spot of earth, and the men step
proudly on their way. Now have they reached the precipice
of Tuccoah ; and as the woman walks to the very edge,
she makes a sudden wheel, and, one aft^r the other, are the
poor captives launched into the abyss below. A loud wail of
triumph echoes through the air from the lips of the woman-
fiend, and, with the groans of the dying in her ears, and the
very lightning in her path, does she retrace her steps to her
lodge to seek repose, and then on the morrow to proclaim her
cruel and unnatural deed.

In the bottom of the Tuccoah pool may now be gathered
small fragments of a white material, resembling soap-stone, and
many people allege that these are the remains of the Indian
captives who perished at the foot of the precipice.

■•\i:i' • ,' :J'

t.i I

■':U

THE FALLS OF TALLULAH.

•If ■),![ ■•>■

^^::<i

As a natural curiosity the Falls of Tallulah are on a par
with the River Saguenay and the Falls of Niagara. They had
been described to me in the most glowing and enthusiastic
manner, and yet the reality far exceeds the scene which I had
conceived. They have filled me with astonishment, and created
a feeling strong enough almost to induce me to remain within
hearing of their roar forever.

The Cherokee word Tallulah or Turrurah, signifies the ter-
rible, and was originally applied to the river of that name on
account of its fearful falls. This river rises among the Alle-
ghany mountains, and is a tributary of the Savannah. Its
entire course lies through a mountain land, and in every par-
ticular it is a mountain stream, narrow, deep, clear, cold, and
subject to every variety of mood. During the first half of its
career it winds among the hills as if in uneasy joy, and then
for several miles it wears a placid appearance, and you can
scarcely hear the murmur of its waters. Soon, tiring of this
peaceful course, however, it narrows itself for an approaching
contest, and runs through a chasm whose walls, about two milcH
in length, are for the most part perpendicular; and, after
making witliin the space of half a mile a number of leaps as
the chasm deepens, it settles into a turbulent and angry mood,
and so continues until it leaves the chasm and regains its
wonted character. The Falls of Tallulah, properly speaking,
are five in number, and have been christened Lodore, Tern-
pesta, Oceana, Jforicon, and the Serpentine. Their scveran
heights are said to be forty-five feet, one hundred, one hundred

THE FALLS OF TALLULAH.

365

and twenty, fifty, and tMrty feet, making, in connection with
the accompanying rapids, a descent of at least four hundred
feet within the space of half a mile. At this point the stream
is particularly winding,' and the cliffs of solid granite on either
side, which are perpendicular, vary in height from six hundred
to nine hundred feet, while the mountains which back the cliffs
reach an elevation of perhaps fifteen hundred feet. Many of
the pools are very large and deep, and the walls and rocks in
their immediate vicinitj' arc always green with luxuriant mosses.
The vegetation of the whole chasm is in fact particularly rich
and varied ; for you may here find not only the pine, but speci-
mens of every variety of the more tender trees, together with
lichens, and vines, and flowers, which would keep the botanist
employed for half a century. Up to the present time, only
four paths have been discovered leading to the margin of the
water, and to make either of these descents requires much of
the nerve and courage of the samphire-gatherer. Through this
immense gorge a strong wind is ever blowing, and the sunlight
never falls upon the cataracts without forming beautiful rain-
bows, which contrast strangely with the surrounding gloom and
horror ; and the roar of the waterfalls, eternally ascending to
the sky, comes to the car like a voice from heaven, calling upon
man to Avonder and admire.

Of the more peculiar features which I have met with in the
Tallulah chasm, the following are the only ones which have
yet been christened, viz. : the Devil's Pulpit, the Devil's Dwell-
ing, the Eagle's Nest, the Deer Leap, Hawthorn's Pool, and
Ilanck's Sliding Place.

The Devil's Pulpit is a double-headed and exceedingly
ragged cliff, which actually hangs over the ravine, and esti-
mated to bo over six hundred foot high. While standing upon
the brow of this precipice I saw a number of buzzards sitting
upon tho rocks below, and appearing like a flock of blackbirds.
While looking at them, the thought came into my mind that I
would startle thcui from their fancied security, by throwing a
stone among thcra. I did throw tho stone, and with all my
might, too, but instead of going across tho ravine, as I sup-

if 1

366

THE FALLS OF TALLULAH.

,.j.in.»i«!(fQfc.

fell

posed it would, it fell out of my sight, and apparently at the
very base of the cliflF upon which I was standing. This little
incident gave me a realizing sense of the immense width and
depth of the chasm. While upon this /clilf also, with my arms
clasped around a small pine tree, an eagle came sailing up the
chasm in mid air, and, as he cast his eye upward at my insig-
nificant form, he uttered a loud shriek as if in anger at my
temerity, and continued on his way, swooping above the spray
of the waterfalls.

The Devil's Dwelling is a cave of some twenty feet in depth,
which occupies a conspicuous place near the summit of a preci-
pice overlooking the yoricon Fall. Near its outlet is a singu-
lar rock, which resembles (from the opposite side of the gorge)
the figure of a woman in a sitting posture, who is said to be the
wife or better-half of the devil. I do not believe this story, and
cannot therefore endorse the prevailFng opinion.

The Eagle's Nest is a rock which projects from the brow of
a cliff reputed to be seven hundred feet high, and perpendicu-
lar. The finest view of this point is from the margin of the
water, where it is grand beyond compare. To describe it with
the pen were uttorly impossible, but it was just such a scene
!i8 would have delighted the lamented Cole, and by a kindred
genius alone can it ever be placed on the canvas.

The Deer Leap is the highest cliff in the whole chasm, mea-
suring about nine hundred feet, and differs from its fellows in
two particulars. From summit to bottom it is almost without a
fissure or an evergreen, and remarkably smooth ; and over it,
in the most beautiful manner imaginable, tumbles a tiny stream,
which scatters upon the rocks below with infinite prodigality
the purest of diamonds and pearls, appearing to be woven into
wreaths of foam. It obtained its name from the circumstance
that a deer was once pursued to this point by a hound, and in
its terror, cleared a pathway througli the air, and perished in
the depths below.

Hawthorn's Pool derives its name from the fact that in its
apparently soundless waters a young and accomplished English
clergyman lost his life while bathing ; and Hanok's Sliding

'^'^ii

THE FALLS OF TALLULAH.

367

Place is so called because a native of this region once slipped
off the rock into a sheet of foam, and was rescued from his
perilous situation not much injured, but immensely frightened.
But of all the scenes which I have been privileged to enjoy
in the Tallulah chasm, the most glorious and superb was wit-
nessed in the night time. For several days previous to my
coming here* the woods had been on fire, and I was constantly
on the watch for a night picture of a burning forest. On one
occasion, as I was about retiring, I saw a light in the direction
of the Falls, and concluded that I would take a walk to the
Devil's Pulpit, which was distant from my tarrying place some
hundred and fifty yards. When I reached there I felt con-
vinced that the fire would soon be in plain view, for I was on
the western side of the gorge, and the wind was blowing from
the eastward. In a very few moments my anticipations were
realized, for I saw the flame licking up the dead leaves which
covered the ground, and also stealing up the trunk of every dry
tree in its path. A Avarm current of air was now wafted to my
cheek by the breeze, and I discovered with intense satisfaction
that an immense dead pine which hung over the opposite pre-
cipice (and whoso dai'k form I had noticed distinctly pictured
against the crimson background) bid been reached by the flame,
and in another moment it was entirely in a blaze. The excite-
ment which now took possession of m^ mind was truly painful ;
and, as I threw my arms around a small tree, and peered into
the horrible chasm, my whole frame shook with an indescriba-
ble emotion. The magnificent torch directly in front of me
did not seem to have any cflect upon the surrounding darkness,
but threw a ruddy and death-like glow upoii every object in the
bottom of the gorge. A flock of vultures which were roosting
far down in the ravine were frightened out of tlieir sleep, and
in their dismay, as they attempted to rise, flew against the clifts
and amongst the trees, until they finally disappeared ; and a
number of bats and other winged creatures were winnowing
their way in every direction. The deep black pools bcnoiith
were enveloped in a more intense blackness, while the foam and
spray of a neighboring fall were made a thousand-fold more
beautiful than before. The vines, and lichens, and mosses

.^.

<-'ir

hiJ%

868

THB FALLS 07 TALLULAH.

f^m

If:

seemed to cling more closely than usual to their parent rocks ;
and when an occasional ember fell from its great height far
down, and still further down into the abyss below, it made rne
dizzy and I retreated from my commanding position. In less
than twenty minutes from that time the fire was exhausted", and
the pall of night had settled upon the lately so brilliant chasm,
and no vestige of the marvellous scene remained'but an occa-
sional wreath of smoke fading away into the upper air.

During my stay at the Falls of Tallulah I made every effort
to obtain an Indian legend or two connected with them, and it
was my good fortune to hear one which has never yet been
printed. It was originally obtained by the white man who first
discovered the Falls, from the Cherokees, who lived in this re-
gion at the time. It is in substance as follows : Many genera-
tions ago it so happened that several famous hunters, who had
■v^ndered from the West towards what is now the Savannah
river, in search of game, never returned to their camping
grounds. In process of time the curiosity as well as the fears
of the nation were excited, and an effort was made to ascertain
the cause of their singular disappearance. Whereupon a party
of medicine-men were deputed to make a pilgrimage towards
the great river. They were absent a whole moon, and, on re-
turning to their friends, they reported that they had discovered
a dreadful fissure in an unknown part of the country, through
which a mountain torrent took its way with a deafening noiao.
They said that it was an exceedingly wild place, and that its
inhabitants were a species of little men and ivotnen, who dwelt
in the crevices of the rocks and in the grottoes under the
waterfalls. They had attempted by every artifice in their
power to hold a council with the little people, but all in vain ;
and, from the shrieks they frequently uttered, the medicine-
men knew that they were the enemies of the Indian race ; and,
therefore, it was concluded in the nation at large that the long
lost hunters had been decoyed to their death in the dreadful
gorge wh'ch they called Tallulah. In view of this little legend,
it is worthy of remark that the Cherokee nation, previous to their
departure to the distant West, always avoided the Falls of Tallu-
lah, and were seldom found hunting, or fishing in their vicinity.

'Vs-^^^r m^^

THE HUNTER OF TALLULAH.

The subject of my present letter is Adam Vandever, " the
Hunter of Tallulah." His fame reached my ears soon after
arriving at this place, and, having obtained a guide, I paid him
a visit at his residence, which is planted directly at the mouth
of Tallulah chasm. He lives in a log-cabin, occupying the
centre of a small valley, through which the Tallulah river winds
its wayward course. It is completely hemmed in on all sides
by wild and abrupt mountains, and one of the most romantic
and beautiful nooks imaginable. Vandever is about sixty
years of age, small in stature, has a weasel face, a small gray
eye, and wears a long white beard. He was born in South
Carolina, spent his early manhood in the wilds of Kentucky,
and the last thirty years of his life in the wilderness of Georgia.
By way of a frolic, he iook a part in the Creek war, and is said
to have killed more Indians than any other white man in the
army. In the battle of Ottassee alone,, he is reported to have
sent his rifle-ball through the hearts of tAventy poor heathen,
merely because they had an undying passion for their native
hills, which they could not boar to leave for an unknown wil-
derness. But Vandever aimed his rifle at the command of his
country, and of course the charge of cold-blooded butchery
does not rest upon his head. He is now living with his third
wife, and claims to be the father of over thirty children, only
five of whom, however, are living undev his roof, the remainder
being dead or scattered over the world. During the summer
months he tills, with his own hand, the few acres of land which
constitute his domain. His live stock, consists of a mule and
some half dozen of goats, together with a number of doga.
24

870

THE HUNTER OF TALLULAH.

^.srtffl'Ji

|H|^p|%

w.t y

^^BSftHf^'iJttkL "^

Ji-ii'r''

- -fe '■• i«^-i-f .7

'■'■'ill.

'1 '■-' J^^

1. 1

r '' f'^*^iW

I J.

,,■^^1^

Iff i/iV, :

■- '3v .i.l

.***•

^^^l^':')

1*(*

H|ppi

:::;♦%.

■m1mhI§>

i"*-*^

S^Kir^

KHiji/';

IhHwI'

&;€

'^^

^\mA:

W'\^^mt

H^i

ljLy\ <^ ^vp]

S^H^^BbmI

fl^;JjSM|

[jVhP

^hI

H^^i!

On inquiring into his forest life, he gave me, among others,
the following particulars. When the hunting season com-
mences, early in November, he supplies himself with every
variety of shooting materials, steel-traps, and a comfortable
stock of provisions, and, placing them upon his mule, starts for
some wild region among the mountains, where he remains until
the following spring. The shanty which he occupies during
this season is of the rudest character, with one side always
open, aii he tells me, for the purpose of having an abundance
of fresh air. In killing wild animals ha pursues but ♦wo me-
thods, called "fire-lighting" and " still-hunting." His favorite
game is the deer, but he is not particular, and secures the fur of
every four-legged creature which may happen to cross his path.
The largest number of skins that he ever brought home at one
time was six hundred, among which were those of the bear, the
.black and gray wolf, the panther, the wild-cat, the fox, the
coon, and some dozen other varieties. He computes the en Lire
number of deer that he has killed in his lifetime at four thou-
sand. When spring arrives, and he purposes to return to his
valley home, he packs his furs upon his old mule, and, seating
himself upon the pile of plunder, makes a bee-line out of the
wilderness. And by those who have seen him in this home-
ward-bound condition, I am told' that he presents one of the
most curious and romantic pictures imaginable. While among
the mountains, his beast subsists upon whatever it may happen
to glean in its forest rambles, and, when the first supply of his
own provisions is exhausted, he usually contents himself with
wild game, which he is often compelled to devour unaccom-
panied with bread or salt. His mule is the smallest and most
miserable looking creature of the kind that I ever saw, and
glories in the singular name of " The Devil and Tom Walker."
When Vandever informed me of this fact, which he did with a
self-satisfied air, I told him that the first portion of the male's
name was more applicable to himself than to the dumb beast ;
whereupon he "grinned horribly a ghastly smile," as if I had
paid him a compliment. Old Vandever is an illiterate man,
and when I asked him to give me his opinion of President Polk,

THE HUNTER OF TALLULAH.

371

he replied : " I never seed the Governor of this State ; for,
•when he came to this country some years ago, I was oflF on
'tother side of the ridge, shooting deer. I voted for the Gen-
eral, and that's all I know about him." Very well ! and this,
thought I, is one of the freemen of our land, who help to elect
our 1 ulers !

Oa questioning my hunter friend with regard to some of his
adventures, he commenced a rigmarole narrative, which would
have lasted a whole month had I not politely requested him to
keep his mouth closed while I took a portrait of him in pencil.
His stories all bore a strong family likeness, but were evidently
to be relied on, and proved conclusively that the man knew
not what it was to fear.

As specimens of the whole, I will outline a few. On one oc-
casion he came up to a large gray wolf, into whose head he dis-
charged a ball. The animal did not drop, but made its way
into an adjoining cavern and disappeared. Vandever waited
awhile at the opening, and as he could not see or hear his game
he concluded that it had ceased to breathe, whereupon he fell
upon his hands and knees, and entered the cave. On reaching
the bottom, he found the wolf alive, when a " clinch fight"
ensued, and the hunter's knife completely severed the heart
of the animal. On dragging out the dead wolf into the
sunlight, it was found that his lower jaw had been broken,
which was probably the reason why he had not succeeded in
destroying the hunter. •

At one time, when he was out of ammunition, his dogs fell
upon a large bear, and it so happened that the latter got one of*
the former in his power, and was about to squeeze it to death.
This was a sight the hunter could not endure, so he unsheathed
his huge hunting-knife and assaulted the black monster. The
bear tore oflf nearly every rag of his clothing, and in making
his first plunge with the knife he completely cut off" two of his
own fingers instead of injuring the bear. He was now in a
perfect frenzy of pain and rage, and in making another e3brt
succeeded to his satisfaction, and gained the victory. That
bear weighed three hundred and fifty pounds.

"m ■-

!^~>

t4«*i

372

THE HUNTER OP TALLULAH.

■"M ^■■"i:

fil'.MM'ai;

On another occasion he fired at a large buck near the brow of a
precipice some thirty feet high, which hangs over one of the
pools in the Tallulah river. On seeing the buck drop, he took
it for granted that he was about to die, when he approached
the aniaial for the purpose of cutting its throat. To his great
surprise, however, the buck suddenly sprung to his. feet and
made a tremendous rush at the hunter with a view of throwing
him off the ledge. But what was more remarkable, the animal
succeeded in its effort, though not until Vandevcr had obtained
a fair hold of the buck's antlers, when the twain performed a
somerset into the pool below. The buck made its escape, and
Vandever was not seriously injured in any particular. About
a month subsequent tc that time he killed a buck, which had a
bullet wound in the lower part of its neck, whereupon he con-
cluded that he had finally triumphed over the animal which had
given him the unexpected ducking.

But the most remarkable escape which old Vandever ever
experienced ha'>y^ened on this wise. He was encamped upon
one of the loftiest mountains in Union county. It was near
the twilight hour, and he had heard the howl of a wolf. With
a view of ascertaining the direction whence it came, he climbed
upon an immense boulder-rock, (weighing perhaps fifty tons,)
which stood on the brow of a steep hill side. While standing
upon this boulder he suddenly felt a swinging sensation, and to
his astonishment he found that it was about to make a fear-
ful plunge into the ravine half a mile below him. As for-
, tune would have it, the limb of an oak tree drooped over the
jrock ; and, as the rock started from its foundation, he seized
the limb, and thereby saved his life. The dreadful crash-
ing of the boulder as it descended the mountain side came to
the hunter's ear while he was suspended in the air, and by
the time it had reached the bottom he dropped himself on the
very spot which had been vacated by the boulder. Vandever
said that this was the only time in his life when he had been
really frightened ; and he also added, that for one day after this
escape he did not care a finger's snap for the finest game in the
wilderness.

THE HUNTER OF TALLULAH.

373

While on my visit to Vandevfir's cabin, one of hi? boys came
home from a fishing expedition, and on examining his fish I
was surprised to find a couple of ahad and three or four striped
hail* or rock-fish. They had been taken in the Tallulah just below
the chasm, by means of a wicker-net, and at a point distant
from the ocean at least two hundred and fifty miles. I had been
informed that the Tallulah abounded in trout, but I was not
prepared to find salt-water fish in this remote mountain wilder-
ness.

Since I have introduced the above youthful Vandever to my
readers, I will record a single one of his deeds, which ought to
give him a fortune, or at least an education. The incident
occurred when he was in his twelfth year. He and a younger
brother had been gathering berries on a mountain side,
and were distant from home about two miles. While care-
lessly tramping down the weeds arid bushes, the younger
boy was bitten by a rattlesnake on the calf his leg. In a
few moments thereafter the unhappy child fell to the ground
in great pain, and the pair were of course in unexpected tribu-
lation. The elder boy, having succeeded in killing the rattle-
snake, conceived the idea, as the only alternative, of carrying his
little brother home on his back. And this deed the noble fellow
accomplished. For two long miles did he carry his heavy burden
over rocks and down the water-courses, and in a hour after he
reached his father's cabin the younger child was dead ; and the
heroic boy was in a state of insensibility from the fatigue and
heat which he had experienced. He recovered, however, and
is now apparently in the enjoyment of good health, though when
I fixed my admiring eyes upon him, it seemed to me that he
was far from being strong, and it was evident that a shadow
rested upon his brow.

'I-

Hk'.,

-,Kgg«,

TRAIL MOUNTAIN.

I NOW write from near the Bummit of the highest mountain
in Georgia. I ohtained my first view of this peak while in the
village of Clarksville, and it presented .such a commanding
appearance, that I resolved to surmount it, on my way to the
North, although my experience has proven that climbing high
mountains is always more laborious than profitable. I came
here on the back of a mule, and my guide and companion on
the occasion was the principal proprietor of Nacoochee valley,
Major Edward Williams. While ascending the mountain,
which occupied about seven hours, (from his residence,) the
venerable gentleman expatiated at considerable length on the
superb scenery to be witnessed from its summit, and then
informed me that he had just established a dairy on the moun-
tain, which, it was easy to see, had become his hobby. He
described the "ranges" of the mountains as afibrding an
abundance of the sweetest food for cattle, and said that he had
already sent to his dairy somewhere between fifty and eighty
cows, and was intending soon to increase the number to one
hundred. He told me* that his dairyman was an excellent
young man from Vermont, named Joseph E. Hubbard, to whom
he was indebted for the original idea of establishing the dairy.
While journeying through this region the young man chanced
to &top at the Major's house, and though they were perfect
strangers, they conversed upon matters connected with farming,
and soon became acquainted ; and the stranger having made
known the fact that he knew how to make butter and cheese, a
bargain was struck, which has resulted in the establisliment

TRAIL MOUNTAIN.

375

already mentioned. The Williams dairy is said to be. the only
one iii the entire State of Georgia, and it is worthy of remark,
in this connection, that Major Williams (as well as his dairy-
man) is a native of New- England. He has been an exile from
Yankee land for upwards of twenty years, and though nearly
seventy years of age, it appears that his natural spirit of
enterprise remains in full vigor.

Triil Mountain was so named by the Cherokees, from the
fact that they once had a number of trails leading to the sum-
mit, to which point they were in the habit of ascending for the
purpose of discovering the camp-fires of their enemies during
the existence of hostilities. It ia the king of the Blue Ridge,
and reported to be five thousand feet above the waters of the
surrr anding country, and Perhaps six thousand feet above the
level of the ocean. A carpet of green grass and weeds extends
to the very top, and as the trees a^-e small, as well as " few and
far between," the lover of extensive scenery has a fine oppor-
tunity of gratifying his taste. I witnessed a sunset from this
great watch-tower of the South, and I know not that I was ever
before more deeply impressed with the grandeur of a landscape
The horizon formed an unbroken circle, br.t I could

scone.

distinctly see that in one direction alone (across Soutn Carolina
and part of Georgia) extended a comparatively level country,
while the remaining three-quarters of the space around me
appeared to be a wilderness of mountains. The grandest
display was towards the north, and here it seemed to me that I
could count at least twenty distinct ranges, fading away to the
sky, until the more remote range melted into a monotonous line.
No cities or towns came within the limit of my vision ; no, nor
even an occasional wreath of smoke, to remind me that human
hearts were beating in the unnumbered valleys. A crimson
hue covered the sky, but it was without a cloud to cheer the
prospect, and the solemn shadow which rested upon the moun-
tains was too deep to partake of a single hue from the departing
sun. Grandeur and gloom, like twin spirits, seemed to have
subdued the world, causing the pulse of nature to cease its
accustomed throb. "At one stride came the dark," and as

Pi ,

"TA

P'>-:

lr4«**Wl|

Jf^

■W: -1

^■1.

m^'^

376

TRAIL MOUNTAIN.

there was no moon, I retreated from the peak with pleasure,
and sought the rude cabin, where I was to spend the night.
While doing this, the distant howl of a wolf came to my ear,
borne upward 9n the quiet air from one of the deep ravines
leading to the base of the mountain.

As I was the guest of my friends Williams and Hubbard, I
wiled away the evening in their society, asking and answering
a thousand questions. Among the matters touched upon in
our conversation was a certain mysterious " water-spout," of
which I had heard a great deal among the people in my jour-
neying, and which was said to have fallen upon Trail Mountain.
I again inquired into the particulars, and Major Williams re-
plied as follows :

" This water-spout story has always been a great botheration
to me. The circumstance occurred several years ago. A
number of hunters were spending the night in the very ravine
where this shanty now stands, when, about midnight, thoy
they heard a tremendous roaring in the air, and a large torrent
of water fell upon their camp and swept it, with all its effects
and its inmates, about a dozen yards from the spot where they
had planted their polls. There were three hunters, and one of
them was severely injured on the head by the water, and all of
them completely drenched. They wero of course much alarmed
at the event, and concluded that a spring farther up the moun-
tain had probably broken away ; but when morning came they
could find no evidences of a spring, and every where above
their camping place the ground was perfectly dry, while on the
lower side it was completely saturated. They wero now per-
plexed to a marvellous degree, and returned to the lower coun-
try impressed with the idea that a water-spout had burst over
their heads."

I of course attempted no explanation of this phenomenon,
but Mr. Hubbard gave it as his opinion that if the afiair actually
did occur, it originated from a whirlwind, which might have
taken up the water from some neighboring river, and dashed it
by the merest accident upon the poor hunters. But this rea-
soning seemed to me like getting '^ out of the frying pan into

TRAIL MOUNTAIN.

377

the fire ;" Tvhereupon I concluded to " tell the tale as 'twas told
to me," for the especial benefit of Professor Espy.

But to return to the dairy, which is unquestionably the chief
attraction (though far from being a romantic ^ne) connected
with Trail Mountain. Heretofore a cheese establishment has
been associated in my mind with broad meadow lands, spacious
and well-furnished out-houses, and a convenient market. But
here we have a dairy on the top of a mountain, distant from the
first farm-house some fifteen miles, and inaccessible by any
conveyance but that of a mule or well-trained horse. The bells
of more than half a hundred cows are echoing along the moun-
tain side ; and, instead of clover, they are feeding upon the
luxuriant grasses and weeds of the wilderness ; instead of cool
cellars, we have here a hundred tin pans arranged upon tables
in a log cabin, into which a cool spring pours its refreshing
treasure j instead of a tidy and matronly housewife to super-
intend the turning of the curd, we have an enterprising young
Yankee, a veritable Green Mountain boy ; and instead of pretty
milkmaids, the inferiors of this establishment are huge negroes,
and all of the masculine gender. And this is the establishment
which supplies the people of Georgia with cheese, and the ma-
terial out of which the scientific caterer manufactures the palat-
able Welsh Rabbit.

:B*^r

»«««

■^

DOWN THE OWASSA.

,•,1

The distance from Hubbard's Cabin, on Trail Mountain, to
the Owassa River, in a direct line, is eight miles, but by the
ordinary mule-route it is thirteen. Ih coming to this river, I
took the direct route, albeit my only guide was an ancient
Indian trail. My friend Hubbard doubted whether I could
make the trip alone, but I was anxious to save time and labor,
so I determined on trying the experiment. I shouldered my
knapsack, and stai'ted immediately after an early breakfast,
and for a distance of two miles every thing turned out to my
entire satisfaction. I was now standing upon the extreme sum-
mit of the Blue Ridge, and within a stone's throw of two springs
which empty their several waters into the Gulf of Mexico and
and the Ohio river. While stopping here to obtain a little
breath, I discovered a large spot of bare earth, which I took to
be a deer yard, and directly across the middle of it the fresh
tracks of a large wolf. I had no gun with me, and this dis-
covery made me a little nervous, which resulted, as I proceeded
on my journey, in my losing the trail upon which I had started.
I Boon came to a brook, however, which rushed down an im-
mense ravine at an angle of forty-five degrees, and I continued
my way feeling quite secure. My course lay down, down,
down, and then, as I wandered from the brook, it was up, up,
up. At <-he rate that I travelled I know that I ought to roach
my place of destination in at least one hour, but four hours
elapsed, "nnd I reluctantly came to the conclusion that I was
most decidedly lost, and that, too, among what I fancied to be
the wildest and most lonely mountains on the face of the earth.

f'r'fei

DOAVN THE OWASSA.

879

Then camp the thought of spending the night in the wilderness,
alone and unprotected, to be destroyed by the wild animals, or
to be starved to death. I resolved, however, to continue along
the brook, knowing that it must come out " somewhere ;" and,
as I was by this time in a most painful state of excitement, I
clambered up the cliffs and ran down the hills at what now ap-
pears to me to have been a fearful rate. The sun was exces-
sively hot, and at every rivulet that I crossed I stopped to slake
my thirst. The brook was constantly making a new turn, and
leaping over ledges of rocks more than a hundred feet high, and
every new bluff that I saw (and there seemed to be no end to
them) began to shoot a pang to my bewildered brain. At one
time I startled a herd of deer from a cool ravine, where they were
spending the noontide hours ; and on one occasion I was within
a single foot of stepping on a rattlesnake, and when I heard
his fearful rattle I made a leap which would have astonished
even Sands, Lent & Co., or any other circus magicians. It
was now the middle of the afternoon, and my blood seemed to
have reached the temperature of boiling heat ; my heart began
to palpitate, and I came to the conclusion that the critics would
never again have an opportunity of doubting my adventures in
the wilderness. Just in the nick of time, however, I heard the
howling music of a pack of hounds, and in a few moments a
beautiful doe and some half a dozen dogs shot across my path
like a "rushing mighty wind.". This little incident led me to
believe that I was not very far from a settlement, and had a
tendency to revive my spirits. The result was that I reached
the cottage of an old gentleman named Riley, in the valley of
Owassa, just as the sun was setting, where I was treated with
the utmost kindness by his consort — having travelled at least
twenty miles on account of my mishap. I had lost my appe-
tite, but was persuaded to drink two cups of coffee and then
retire to bed. I slept until daybreak, without being visited by
an unpleasant dream, and arose on the following morning a now
man. On the next day I travelled down the Owassa valley a
distance of thirty miles, until I reached the very pretty place
where I am now tarrjing. The Cherokee word Owassa sigiiifieB

N.I "^>ii

m^' —

880

DOWN THE OWASSA.

:'i " >»»^#f■

^'^^•-

the main river, or the largest of the tributaries : and the para-
phrase of this name into Hiowasse by the map-makers is a ridi-
culous blunder. So I have been informed, at any rate, by one
of the oldest Cherokees now living. The Owassa is a tributary
of the noble Tennessee, and is as clear, beautiful, rapid and
picturesqr e a mountain river as I have ever seen. At Riley's
cottage it is perhaps one hundred feet wide, and at this point
it is not far from one hundred and fifty yards. It is quite
circuitous in its course, and the valley through which it runs
is narrow, but very fertile and pretty well cultivated. The
people live almost exclusively in log cabins, and appear to be
intelligent and moral, though apparently destitute of all
enterprise.

The principal novelty that I noticed on the road to this place
was the spot known as Fort Emhree. Thd only evidences that
there ever was a fortification here are a breastwork of timber,
a lot of demolished pickets, and two or three block-houses,
which are now in a dilapidated condition. The site is a com-
manding one, and takes in some of the grandest mountain out-
lines that I have yet seen. This fort, so cslled, was made by
order of the General Government for the purpose of herding
the poor Cherokees previous to their final banishment into exile
— a most humane and *7'iri8tian-like work, indeed ! How re-
luctant the Indians woe to leavo this beautiful land may be
shown by tbo fact, that a. number of women destroyed them-
selves within this very fort rather than be driven beyond the
Mississippi. And a gentleman who saw the Indians, when
they were removed, tells me that they were actually diiven
along the road like a herd of wild and unruly animals, a num-
ber of them having been shot down in the vicinity of this place.
All these things may have been published, but I have never
seen them in print; and I now put them in print with the view
of shaming our heartless and cruel Government for its unna-
tural conduct in times past. The Cherokees were a nation of
mountaineei s, and, had a wise policy been pursued with regard
to them, they might now be chasing the deer upon these moun-
tains, while all the valleys of the land might have been in a

DOWN THE OWASSA.

881

nI-/'*'

state of cultivation, evea as they are now. Not only would
they have had the happiness of hunting their favorite game
upon their native hills, hut they might have heen educated
with more real satisfaction to themselves than they tuu be in
the Far West. In proof of the opinion that they might have
lived here in honor and comfort, it may be mentioned that the
few Cherokees who were permitted to remain in Carolina, are
now considered the most frugal and inoffensive of the entire '
population ; and the United States District Attorney residing
in Cherokee county, informs me, that of five hundred indi-
viduals whom he has had to prosecute within the last five years,
only one of them was an Indian, r\nd he was led into his difii-
culty by a drunken white man. But this is a theme that I
could write upon for days, so I will turn to something more
appropriate to my present purpose.

In coming down the valley of Owassa, I met with a number
of inciuents which I fancy worth mentioning. For example,
in passing along a certain road in Union county, Georgia, I
approached a ricketty log cabin, and was surp?!:od to see the
family and all the dogs vacate the premises, as if I had been a
personified plague. I was subsequently informed that this was
a common habit with the more barbarous people of this region,
when they see a strangei: passing along the road.

Among the characteristic travelling establishments that I
met in the above country, was the following : a very small co-
vered wagon, (drawn by one mule and one deforined horse,)
which was laden with corn-husk, a few bedclothes, and several
rude cooking utensils. Behind "-^ is team marched a man and
his wife, five boys, and eiglit girls, and in their rear the skele-
ton of a cow and four hungry-looking dogs. They had been
farming in Union county, but were now on their wa;^ into Ha-
bersham county in search of a new location. The youiigest
daughter belonging to this family, as I casually found out by
giving her a small piece of money, was Dorcas Ann Eliza Jane
Charlotte. On hearing this startling information I could not
wonder that the family were poor, and had a thorny road to
pursue through life. •

•ui <■ .-.1, ^y

382

DOWN THE OWASSA.

But the most ''.nique incident that I picked up on the day in
question, may be narrated as follows : I was quietly jogging
along the road, when I was startled by the dropping of a snake
from a small tree. I stopped to see what was the matter, and
discovered it to be a black snake or racer, and that he had in
his mouth the tail-end of a scarlet lizard, about five inches
long. It was evident the snake had some diflSculty in swallow-
ing the precious morsel, and while he seemed to bo preparing
for another effort, I saw the lizard twist 'its body and bite the
snake directly on the back of the head, which caused the latter
to loosen his hold. Again did I see the snake attack the
lizard, and a second time did the lizard uite tb ; snake, where-
upon the serpent gave up the fight, and, while I was hunting
for a stick to kill the serpent, both of the reptiles made their
escape.

The little village of Murphy, whence I date this letter, lies
at the junction of the Owassa and Valley rivers, and in point
of location is one of the prettiest places in the world. Its In-
dian name was Klausuna, or the Large Turtle. It was so
called, says a Cherokee legend, on account of its being the
sunning place of an immense turtle which lived in its vicinity
in ancient times. The turtle was particularly famous for its
repelling power, having been known not to be at all injured by a
stroke of lightning. Nothing on earth had power to annihilate
tl e creature ; but, on account of the many attempt" made to
t ike its life, when it was known to be a harmless and inoffen-
Eive creature, it became disgusted with this world, and bur-
r owed its way into the middle of the earth, where it now lives
ii\ peace.

In connection with this legend, I may here mention what
m\'st be considered a remarkable fact in geology. Running
dirv ctly across the village of Murphy is a belt of marble, com-
posed of the black, gray, pure white, and flesh-colored varie-
ties, which belt also crosses the Owassa river. Just above this
marble causeway, the Owassa, for a space of perhaps two hun-
dred feet, is said to be over one hundr d feet deep, and at one
point, in fact, a bottom has never been found. All this is

DOWN THE OWASSA.

383

sim )le truth, but I have heard the opinion expressed that there
is a subterranean communication between this iiXimense hole in
Owassa and the river Notely, which is some two miles distant.
The testimony adduced in proof of this theory is, that a cer-
tain log was once marked on the Notely, which was subse-
quently found floating in the pool of the Deep Hole in the
Owassa.

\ U ' ' "

■■a J

'*■■'■ 'I'M

• »!

WH0^

ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS.

The distance from Murphy to Franklin village is reported to
be fifty miles. For twenty miles the road runs in full view of
Valley river, which is worthy in every particular of the stream
into which it empties, the Owassa. It is a remarkably cold and
translucent stream, and looks as if it ought to contain trout,
but I am certain that it does not. On inquiring of a homespun
angler what fish the river did produce, he replied : '* Salmon,
black trout, red horse, hog-fish, suckers and cat-fish." I took
the liberty of doubting the gentleman's word, and subsequently
found out that the people of this section of country call the
legitimate pickerel the "salmon," the black bass the "black
trout," the mullet the " red horse," and a deformed sucker the
" hog-fish." And now, while I think of it, I would intimate to
my friends residing on the Ohio (to which glorious river all the
streams of this region pay tribute) that their salmon is none
other than the genuine pickerel of the North and South, their
white perch only the sheep's head of the great lakes, and their
black perch is but another name for thn bls,ck or Oswego bass.
So much for a piscatorial correction.

The only picture which attracted my particular attention in
passing up the fertile but generally neglected bottom lands of
Valley river, was a farm of twenty-five hundred acres, one
thousand acres being as level as a floor and highly cultivated.
The soil seemed exceedingly rich, and it was evident yielded a
considerable income to its possessor. I heard, in fixct, that the
proprietor had been offered twenty-five thousand dollars for this
farm. And 'in what kind of a house does my reader imagine

"^•^M

ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS.

385

this wealthy man resided ? In a miserable log hovel, a decayed
and windowless one, which a respectable member of the swine
family would hardly deign to occupy. Instances something
like this had already come to my knowledge, and caused me
to wonder at the inconsistency and apparent want of common
sense manifested by some of the farmers of this country ; but
this instance capped the climax. But again, the individual
alluded to is a white man, and prides himself upon being more
intelligent and acute than his neighbors ; and yet one of his
neighbors is an Indian woman, who raises only about five thou-
sand bushels of potatoes per annum, but occupies a comfortable
dwelling and lives like a rational being.

After leaving the above valley, my course lay over two dis-
tinct spurs of the Aileghanies, which are divided by the river
Nan-ti-ha-lah, and consequently called the Nan-ti-ha-lah Moun-
tains. In ascending the western ridge, I noticed that at the
foot and midway up the pass the trees were all arrayed in their
summer verdure, and among the forest trees were many chestnut
and poplar specimens, which were at least seven or eight feet in
diameter ; while the more elevated portions of the ridge were
covered with scrub and white oak, which were entirely destitute
of foliage and not even in the budding condition. No regular
cliffs frowned upon me as I passed along, but the mountains on
either side were almost perpendicular, and in one or two places
were at least twenty-five hundred feet high. In the side of the
highest of these mountains, I was informed, is a deep fissure or
cave, which extends to the summit of the hill, where the outlet
is quite small. When the wind is blowing from the northwest
it passes entirely through this long arid mysterious cavern, and
when issuing from the top comes with such force as to throw
out all the smaller stones which one may happen to drop therein.
In descending this spur, the road passes directly along the
margin of the most gloomy thicket imaginable. It is about a
mile wide and somewhat over three miles in length. It is rank
with vegetation, and the principal trees are laurel, pine, and
cedar. Ev3n at noonday it is impossible to look into it more
than half a dozen yards, and then you but peernnto the open-
26

"-4^l-^«

p-ii

386

ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS.

ing of leafy caves and grottos ■which are perpetually cool and
very desolate. It is said to abound in the more ferocious of
wild animals, and no •white man is yet known to have mustered
courage enough to explore the jungle. During the existence
of the Cherokee difficulties, the Indians were in the habit of
encamping on many places on its margin for the purpose of
easily eluding their pursuers ; and it is reported of one Indian
hunter, who once entered the thicket, that he never returned,
having, as is supposed, been overpowered by some wild beast.
It was upon the margin of this horrible place, too, that the fol-
lowing incident occurred : An Indian woman once happened to
bo trar H' ig down the mountain, unaccompanied by her hus-
band, but with three young children, two little girls and a
papoose. In an unexpected moment an enraged panther crossed
their trail, and while it fell upon and destroyed the mother and
one child, the elder girl ran for her life, carrying the infant on
her back. The little heroine had not gone over a half a mile
with her burden before the panther caught up with her, and
dragged the infant from her grasp ; and while the savage crea-
ture was destroying this third victim, the little girl made her
escape to a neighboring encampment.

The river Nan-ti-ha-lah, or the Woman's Bosom, was so named
on account of its undulating and narrow valley, and its own in-
trinsic purity and loveliness. Upon this river is situated a rude
but comfortable cabin, which is the only one the traveller meets
with in going a distance of twenty miles. On first approaching
this cabin, I noticed a couple of sweet little girls playing on
the greensward before the door with a beautiful fawn, which
was as tame as a lamb. This group, taken in connection with
the wildness of the surrounding scene, gave mo a most delight-
ful feeling, the contrast was so strange and unexpected. The
proprietor of the cabin owns about five thousand acres of land
in this wilderness region, and is by profession a grazing farmer.
He raises a goodly number of cattle as well as horses and mules,
and his principal markets for them are Charleston and Savan-
nah, to which cities he performs a pilgrimage in the autumn of
every year. He is one of the "oldest inhabitants" of the re-

■.i 'U" ^•

ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS.

887

gion, and as I ?pent ono night under his roof, I took occasion
to draw from nim a few anecdotes connected with his own ex-
perience. On questioning him with regard to the true character
of the panther, he replied as follows : " I don't know muck
about this animal, but I have had one chance to study their na-
ture, which I can't forget. It was a very dark night, and I
was belated on the western ridge, near the Big Laurel ravine.
I was jogging along at a slow rate, when my horse made a ter-
rible leap aside, and I saw directly in front of me one of the
biggest of panthers. He boon uttered a shriek or scream (whicb
sounded like a woman in distress) and got out of the way, so
that I could pass along. Every bone in my horse's body trem-
bled with fear, and I can tell you that my own feelings were
pretty squally. On my way was I still jogging, when the pan-
ther again made his appearance, just as he had before, and
gave another of his infernal yells. I had no weapon with me,
and I now thought I was a gone case. Again did the animal
disappear, and again did I continue on my journey. I had not
gone more than a hundred yards before I saw, on the upper
side of the road, what looked like a couple of balls of fire, and
just as I endeavored to urge my horse a little faster, another
dreadful scream rang far down the valley. But, to make a long
story short, this animal followed me until I got within a half a
mile of my house, and, though he ran around mo at least a
dozen times, and uttered more than a dozen screams, he never
touched me, and I got safely home. If you can gather any
information from this adventure you are welcome to it ; but all
I know about the animal is this, that I hate him as I do the
devil."

My host informed me that he was one of the men appointed
by the Government to assess the property of the Cherokee^ at
the time of their removal, and was subsequently employed to
aid in their coerced removal. With a view of pacifying the
Indians, it had beeii stipulated that the cabin and improvements
of each Indian should be assessed, and an equivalent in money
should.be paid into his hands for said property ; and a part of
the nation, it will be remembered, including (he head chief,

-»*■

888

ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS.

were opposed to the treaty of banishment. In fulfilling V'j
duties as a Government officer, my informant endured many
hardships, subjected himself to much peril, and met with many
touching as well as some ridiculous scenes. In the course of a
few months he visited, in connection with his assistant and in-
terpreter, every cabin in the counties of Cherokee and Macon ;
and, from the numerous adventures which he related to me, I
will record two or three.

" At one time," said my friend, " we arrived at a cabin where
we knew resided, ' solitary and alone,' an old bachelor Indian.
It was night, and very cold and stormy. As we were tying our
horses the Indian heard us, and, knowing our business, imme-
diately arose and fastened his door that we should not get in.
We remonstrated from without, and told him we were almost
frozen, and he murit admit us, but never a word would he answer ;
and this was repeated several times. We finally got mad and
knocked down the door and entered. The Indian was lying
upon a bench before the fire, and by his side were four dogs.
We asked him a number of questions, but still did he keep
silent. We had by this time made up our minds to * take care
of number one,' and proceeded to cook our bacon. In doing
this we had great difficulty on account of the dogs, which were
almost starved to death, and were constantly grabbing up our
victuals from the coals. They were the ugliest animals that I
ever saw, and did not care a pin for the heavy licks that we
gave them. And the only way we could get along was for the
interpreter to cook the meat, while my assistant and myself
seated ourselves at the two corners of the hearth, and as the
dogs jumped over the body of the Indian, (who was yet lying
on his bench,) m'o would grab them by the neck and tail and
pitfih them across the room. So this interesting business con-
tinued until the meat was cooked. I then took a slice, put it
on a piece of bread, and giving it to the Indian, said to him :
' Now don't be a fool, take this meat and be good friends, for
we don't want to injure you.' Whereupon he got over his re-
sentment, took the meat, and began talking so that we could
not stop him."

ACROSS TDE MOUNTAINS.

889

But another incident related to me was truly affecting, and
occurred at the time of removal. "There was an old Indian,"
continued my host, "named Euchellah, who had thrown out
the idea that he was a strong man, and never would submit to
leave his cabin willingly ; those who wanted him to go must take .
him by force. It was in the forenoon, and the whole posse of
officers entered his cabin, and after a pretty severe scuffle we
succeeded in fastening the old fellow's arms and hands with
a rope. He now saw that Ife must go, and told his wife to get
ready, and she got ready by going out to feed her pig and the
chickens, just as if she was coming back in a few hours. Wo
tTien started with our prisoners, and just as we were crossing a
hill which overlooked the Indian's cabin, he suddenly wheeled
about, and as his eyes fell upon his little garden and his hut,
he burst into tears, and I thought the man's heart would break.
And now when people tell me that the Indian never weeps, I
tell them it's no such thing ; but, it was true, Euchellah had
some reason to feel bad ; for he had four children buried near
his cabin, and had lived there for fifty years. We continued on our
way to the West, but in two days our Indian made his escape
with his wife. We hunted for them among the mountains, and
though we recaptured Euchellah^we never could find his wife,
)ind afterwards heard that she starved to death on a distant
mountain. The Indian was now guarded by four soldiers ; but,
while crossing a certain gap, he suddenly rose upon his keepers
and killed three of them, while the other soldier, as well as himself?
escaped. The Indian was again taken prisoner, tried by a court
martial, and sentenced to be executed. When told that he Avas
to be shot down by a rifle ball, ho manifested no fear, and, up
to the moment that he was shot down, not a tear made its ap-
pearance in his eye. He could weep on leaviitg his home, but
he would not weep when he came to die. And the old man
was buried on the road side, half way between this place and
Murphy."

" But another removal incident that I remember," continued
my landlord, " was to this effect. It was another old Indian
who had a large family and was religious. When we called to

'*<%, *■ '■'

tfllWII

'•%'

:tiigwfai

l^m

'r%-

^i^'^ f

C-.'^-:" '.

!<:'"-::'■.{-

i::>t>^

•y MT

(- Ci

\ 1 ' -^

■I'^'vl ' ^ '

'f^'^^^I^

"^^

■^<,m

890

ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS.

'if*

fll,::^-

take him, he said he only wanted to aak one favor, which was,
that we would let him Jiaye one more prayer with his wife and
children in Ma old cabin. .We of course granted the request,
and when he was through, out came the old fellow and said that
he was ready. But just as we were leaving the little clearing,
the Indian called his wife and children to his side, and talked
to them in the most poetical and affecting manner about their
meagre but much-loved possession, which they were about to
leave forever. He then took the lead of our procession, and
witiiout uttering a woi'd, marched onward with a firm step.
We never heard this man's voice again until we had passe4 be-
yond the Mississippi."

The scenery lying between the Nan-ti-ha-lah and this place
is one of the Avildcst character. From the summit of the pass,
and along the road as you descend to the eastward, a number
of very imposing scenes present themselves, but chief among
all the hills rises the rugged peak of Bald Mountain. The
prospect from this point is similar, to that which I have des-
cribed from Trail Mountain, but the legend which commemor-
ates the place is quite interesting, and accounts for the baldness
of the mountain's top, which was formerly covered with a dense
forest. The Cherokees relate that there once existed among
these mountains a very large bird, which resepbled in appear-
ance the green-winged hornet, and this creature was in the habit
of carrying off the younger children of the nation who hap-
pened to wander into the woods. Very many children had
mysteriously disappeared in this manner, and the entire people
declared a warf9,ro against the monster. A varitry of means
were employed for his destruction, but without success. In
process of time it was determined that thu wise men (or medi-
cine men) of the nation should try their skill in the business.
They met in council and agreed that each one should station
himself on the summit of a mountain, and that, when the crea-
ture was discovered, the man who made thd discovery should
utter a loud halloo, which shout should be taken up by his
neighbor on the next mountain, and so continued to the end of
the line, that all the men might have a shot at the strai^e bird.

ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS.

391

This experime; I was tried and resulted in finding out the hid-
ing-place of the monster, which was a deep cavern on the eas-
tern side of the Blue-Ridge and ai the fountain-head of the
river Too-ge-lah. On arriving at this place, they found the
entrance to the cavern entirely inaccessible by mortal feet, and
they therefore prayed to the Great Spirit that he would bring
out the bird from his den, and place him within the reach . of
their arms. Their petition was granted, for a terrible thunder-
storm immediately arose, and a stroke of lightning tore away
one-half of a large mountain, and the Indians were successful
in slaying their enemy. The Great Spirit was pleased with the
courage manifested by the Cherokees during this dangerous
fight, and, with a view of rewarding the same, he willed it that
all the highest mountains in their land should thereafter be
destitute of trees, so thi'.t they might always have an opportu-
nity of watching the movements of their enemies.

As a sequel to tliis legend, it may be appropriately mentioned,
that at the head of the Too-ge-lah is to be found one of the
most remarkable curiosities in this mountain land. It is a grc-
nite cliff, with a omooth surface or front, half .a mile long, and
twelve hundred feet high, and generally spoken of in this part
of the country as the White-side Mountain or the DeviVs Court-
House. To think of it '-^ almost enough to make one dizzy, but
to see it fills one with awe. Near the top of one part of this
cliff is a small cave, which can be reached only by pa? ing over
a strip of rock about two feet wide. One man only has ever
been known to enter it, and when he had performed the deed,
he met at the entrance of the cave a large bear, which animal,
in making its escape, slipped off the .rock, fell a distance of
several hundred feet, and was of course killed. When the man
saw this, he became so much excited that it was some hours be-
fore ho could quiet his nerves sufficiently to retrace his dan-
gerous pathway.

i^...,l

•:|

t '

■4:

mMMH'.^

im^

W--

i^-^^'

iii.

•^ i:

' '>

f' ■ ■

^^ pi

iii

liP!-9

THE LITTLE TENNESSEE.

The little village of Franklin is romantically situated on the
Little Tennessee. It is surrounded mth mountains, and a
quiet and pretty hamlet. On the morning after entering this
place, I went to the post-office, for the purpose of obtain!: .. n,
peep at the last number of the Njitional Intelligencer, wr f -
upon the officiating gentleman informed me that I should 'i'u
it at the office of a young I ",wyer whom he named. I called
upon the legal gentleman, and found him, like all the in'elli-
gent people of the country, very polite and well informed. In
speaking of the surrounding pictorial associations he alluded to
a certain waterfall, and added that the gentleman who referred
me to him owned a plantation near the falls, on a famous trout
stream, and was an angler. On this hint I sent a couple of
handsome flies, as a present, to my post-office friend, and in
less than twenty minutes thereafter he made his appearance
at my lodgings, and insisted that wo should go upon a fishing
excursion, and that the lawyer should accompany us. Horses
were immediately procured, and having rode a distance of ten
miles along a very beautiful stream called Kul-la-aa-jah, or the
Sugar Watery wo came to the chasm leading to the falls. Here
we tied our horses, and while my companions commenced throw-
ing the fly, I proceeded to the more profitable employment of
taking sketches.

The chasm of the Sugar Water Falls is about half a mile
long, and immediately below the precipices are perpendicular
and very imposing, reaching an elevation of «t least one thou-
sand feet. The falls themselves are three in number — the first

THE LITTLE TENNESSEE.

393

and principal one being about sixty feet high. Emptying into
the Sweet Water, directly at the lower end of the chasm, is a
tiny brook without a name, upon which I found a cascade of
great beauty. The water falls near forty feet, but sings its
eternal song in a shadoTry recess, where hoary trees, mossy
rocks, and exquisite vines, of every variety peculiar to the
country, remain in their original wildncss. As I clambered up
the ravine leading to this cascade, I startled a doe from the
green couch wh'jre she had been spending the noontide hours.
I added a number of sketches to my portfolio, and after spend-
ing " alone in my glory" the Nvliole afternoon, wandering from
one chasm to another, I left the delightful valley with reluc-
tance, musing upou the marvellous beauty of everything in the
world formed by the hand of God.

On arriving at the spot where our horses were tied, I found
my companions both ^earing uncommonly long faces, for they
had not sucteetled in killing a single trout. 1 joked my post-
oflSco friend about his "famous trout stream," and then, re-
mounting our horses, we paid a visit to his plantation, where we
enjoyed a comfortable supper, and. continued on our way home
by the light of the mooii. Under any circumstances this would
have been an agreeable ride,, but on the present occasion my
companions did all the talking, and the substance of two of
their stories I herewith subjoin merely as specimens :

" I can't account for our bad luck in catching trout to-day,"
said my post-office friend ; " but I do assure you that a fcouplc
of young men named Hyatt, and myself, once went a fishing
in the Sweet Water, and we took one hundred and seventy-five
trout. But this is not to the purpose. On that occasion we
fished up the stream ; and when we came to the mouth of the
chasm, we saw a big buck, which wo frightened towards the
falls as wo ascended. When wo came near the falls, one of the
Hyatts and myself stopped fishing, and went to work to corner
the buck, and see if we covdd kill him with stones, or cause
him to drown himsdf. There was no way for him to make his
escape, except by running directly over us, and this we did not
suppose he would dare attempt. He made many desperate

'>^4m y-

|jS>?s;

/''''''\^"*"^t

i^J

i -r

394

THE LITTLE TENNESSEE.

efforts to get away, and at one time managed to climb an almost
perpendicular wall of rock to the height of some twenty feet,
when he lost his foothold and fell into the pool below. He now
became very much enraged, but we continued to pelt him with
stones, though without effecting any serious injury. After bo-
thering him for at least half an hour, the creature finally got
upon the rocks at the lower part of the pool, when he swept by
us with great fury, and started down the chasm, making somo
of tha most fearful leaps that I ever saw. And now it so hap-
jioned that we saw the younger Hyatt standing upon a rock
nnd casting his fly upon a pool, where we thought the deer
must pass in his downwsird course, andwe immediately shouted
to the angler to ' look out.' He did so, and immediately drew
out a hunting-knife which he had in bis pocket, and as the deer
tumbled into the pool, young Hyatt actually Jumped upon his
back, and succeeded in giving him a fatal stab, so that the ani-
mal merely crawled upon the rocks to die. It was late in the
evening before we started for home, and Ave only brought the
skin along with us; but as we left the chasm, we saw a large
panther descending one of the cliffs of the gorge, as if hasten-
ing to have a feast upon the dead deer."

The "story'* of my lawyer friend, or rather a fragment of
his entertaining conversation was as follows : " As it is im-
portant, Mr. LaT>man, that you should not leave our country
without learning something of our great personages, and as our
companion here is a modest man, I will };ive you a brief blctch
of his character. He is a gen leman of some property, for he
not only owns the plantation where we took supper, but one or
two others of equal value. He is one of the oldest residents
in this mountain region — a gentleman of fine moral character,
and with a heart as guileless as that of a child. He is a pas-
sionate lover of scenery, and has probably explored the beau-
ties of this mountain land more thoroughly than any other man
now living ; he is also a great lover of botany, geology, insect-
ology, and a dozen other ologies, and I believe has made a
number of discoveries in all his favorite studies. As you have
heard, he tells a capital story, and, as you may see by looking

IHK LITTLE TENNESSEE.

395

into some of our southern newspapers, lie uses the pen with
ease and a degree of elegance. He cherishes a love for the
' angle art,' and I must say usually succeeds in his fishing ex-
ploits much better than he has to-day. By profession he is a
knight of the needle ; but, being somewhat advanced in years,
ho amuses himself by fulfilling the duties of deputy postmaster
in the village of Franklin."

The lawyer was here interrupted by the hero of his story,
who insisted upon his changing the " subject theme," and the
consequence is, my readers will be disappointed in obtaining
any more information respecting the scientific deputy postmas-
ter of the Alleghany mountains.

But, leaving the intellectual out of view, the most interest-
ing character whom I have seen about Franklin is an old Che-
rokee Indian. His name is Sa-taiv-ha, or Hog-Bite, and he is
upwards of one hundred years of age. He lives in a small log
hut among the mountains, the door of which is so very low that
you have lo crawl into it upon your hands and knees. At the
time the grpa,ter part of his nation were removed to the Far
West, the " oflScers of justice" called to obtain his company.
He saw them as they approached, and, taking his loaded rifle in
hand, he warned them not to attempt to lay their hands upon
him, for ho would certainly kill them. He was found to be so
resolute and so very old, that it was finally concluded by those
in power that the old man should be left alone. He lives the
life of a hermit, and is chiefly supported by the charity of one
or two Indian neighbors, though it is said he even now occa-
sionally manages to kill a deer or turkey. His history is en-
tirely unknown, and ho says he can remember the time when
the Cherokee nation lived upon the shores of a great ocean,
(the Atlantic,) and the color of a white man's face was un-
known.

In the immediate vicinity of this place may bo seen another
of those mysterious Indian mounc^s which Ave find beautifying
nearly all the valleys of this land. And here it may not be
out of place for mo to introduce the opinions concorrtlng their
origin which prevail among the Indian tribes of the South.

f.^p'

■'^1

'i (

1: ' * '

^41

i ' :'■ ■ • ■

■4

%:^:

•*'^i^;.

iUl

C2W*;.

896

THE LITTLE TENNESSEE.

„ '^ ■'pi

By some they are p*.id to have been built by a race of people
who have become extinct, and were formerly used by the Ohe-
rokeea merely as convenient places to have their dances and
their games. A superstition also prevails, that in the ancient
days every Indian brought to a certain place a small bark full
of the soil which he cultivated, as a tribute to the Great Spirit,
who in return sent them a plenteous harvest. Some allege that
they were the burial places of great warriors and hunters ; some
that they were erected as trophies of remarkable victories ;
others that they were built as fortresses ; and others still that
upon them were performed the more sacred of religious rites.
There is also a tradition existing among the Cherokees that
these mounds formerly contained a species of sacred fire ; and
it is well known that an Indian has never been known to de-
face one of them, and to see them defaced by the white man
always seems to make them unhappy. The only light (in the
way of opinion) that I can throw upon these mounds is, that
they owe their origin to some aboriginal custotn similar to that
Wuich has brought together the huge piles of stones which the
traveller meets with in various portions of the southern coun-
try. But all this information is traditionary, the builders of
these mounds are unknown, and all that even the wise of the
present generation can do is to look upon them in silence and
wonder.

The gentleman upon whose property the above mentioned
mound is situated is the nabob of the place, an intelligent man,
and an old resident. I am now his guest, and he lives in com-
fortable style, his dwelling being surrounded with a score or
two of out-houses. lie carries on an extensive farming busi-
ness, and is the owner of a goodly number of tidy, respectful,
and industrious slaves. Though situated almost within rifle-
shot of an impassable mountain, his residence is associated with
clover-fields, a well-managed garden filled with flowers and vines,
ancient trees where sing the -katydids in the evening hours, and
above which swoop the joyous and n'^isy martin and the beauti-
ful dove ; and also with meadow-fields, where horses and cattle
graze' during the long summer day. But there is one associa-

THE LITTLE TENNESSEE.

397

tion connected with this farm-house which is still ringing in my
ears : I allude to a perpetual chorus of an everlasting quantity
of jackasses, peacocks, and guinea-hens. My host seems to
have a passion for these apparently accidental or unfinished
specimens o£ natural history ; and I must say that I have nevei
before been privileged to enjoy such unearthly music as I have
on his plantation. The painful braying of a jackass awakens
his household from their slumbers, and the same braying, ac-
companied by the screams of the peacock and guinea-hen, con-
tinues without ceasing until the twilight hour, when the whip-
pf^orwill takes up her evening lay, and the world lapses into its
nightly repose.

Having spent a Sabbath in Franklin, I obtained a little in-
formation with regard to the religious condition of th'e people
in this section of country. The only denominations who have
preaching here are the Methodists and Baptists. Amonr; the
latter" class, the Bible custom o{ tvashing feet is still kci't up
wi^Ii rigor. The preachers of both denominations are itinerants,
and, so fer as I have seen, are worthy, upright and sensible
men. They seem to think move of preaching the doctrines of
Christ than proclaiming their own learning or advocating their
own opinions, and it is therefore always a pleasure to hear them ;
they know their duties, and faithfully fulfil them, and I believe
accomplish much good. The people attend the Sunday meet-
ings from a distance of ten and fifteen miles ; and, as the men
and women ride on horseback, and as they often come in par-
ties, their appearance on approaching the church is often ex-
ceedingly picturesque.

On the • day of my arrival in this village, a negro teamster
met with an accident while passing over a neighboring moun-
tain, which resulted in his losing one of his four horses, which
happened to step over a log, and, on being cut loose, fell clown
a precipice of forty feet in'o a pool of water. On being ques-
tioned as to the mannev in which the animal fell, the negro
briefly but tcU'mgly replied, " Ka xvallup, Jca wallup, ha tvallup^
ha swash !" I thought this a forcible description, and could
not but admire the man's ingenuity in representing each somer-
set by a single word.

hi '- ■:.

** *

'-.iv.m

^j.'^vj \

898

THE LITTLE TENNESSEE.

Within a few days past I have become acquainted with two
insects which I have never seen described, but which are found
in abundance throughout the South. I allude to the dirt-dauber
and the stump-stinger. In their general appearance they both
resemble the wasp. The first lives in a cell, which it builds on
the inner side of a shed or piazza. It is a noted enemy of the
spider, and possesses the art and the habit of killing that in-
sect in great numbers. But what is really remarkable, they
have a fashion of stowing away the carcasses of their slaught-
ered enemies in their dwellings, as if for future use ; and after
the cell is full, they close it with mud, and proceed to build
another cell, so that the opulence of one of them may be cal-
culated by the number of his closed dwellings. The stump-
stinger is' remarkable for having attached to the middle of his
body a hard and pointed weapon, with which he can dig a hole
one inch in depth in the body of even a hickory tree. This
weapon he usually carries under his tail, but when about to be
used makes him resemble a gimlet in form. The instrument is
very hard, and composed of two pieces, which he works up and
down, like a pair of chisels. It is supposed that he makes this
hole for the purpose of depositing an egg, and it is alleged that
the tree upon which he once fastens himself always falls to
decay.

But this allusion to insects reminds me of an incident
connected with the ant which I lately noticed in one of my
mountain rambles. While watching an ant-hill, I discovered
that the little creatures were busily engaged in enlarging the
hole of their miniature cavern ; and my eyes chanced to fall
upon another detachment of the same insect, who were ap-
proaching the hole in question with the dead body of a grass-
hopper. The moment this party was discovered by those at
the hole, they all fell to Avork and tumbled their dead booty
along at a more rapid rate than before. On reaching the hole
an attempt was made to drag the grasshopper into it, but without
success, for it was too small. A movement to enlarge it was
then immediately made, and in a very few moments the slain
creature was out of my sight, and I could almost fancy that I

THE LITTLB TENNESSEE.

399

saw the ants clapping their tiny hands, and congratulating
themselves upon the feat they had accomplished. Upon the
whole it was one of the most interesting little incidents that I
ever witnessed, and I left the spot feeling that I understood the
words of Scripture which say, " Go to the ant, thou sluggard,
and be wise!"

And now, as the desultory character of this letter will prob-
ably ful'.y satisfy my readers, I will bring it to a close, promising
to b*^ somewhat more circumspect in the future.

';,vlf#

U^l

-::i

1 ll^llpl^^

'^>i

&§X

i^|^^

if!'

mi\

SMOKY MOUNTAIN.

In coming from Franklin to this jilace, Qualla Town, a dis-
tance of thirty miles, I travelled over a wild, mountainous,
and thinly settled country, whei:e I was pained to witness the
evil cfiFects of intemperance, and made happy by following the
windings of a beautiful river. Having been overtaken by a
thunder-storm, I found shelter in a rude and comfortless cabin,
which was occupied by a man and his wife and eight children.
Every member of the family was barefooted, and the children
almost destitute of clothing ; not one of them, though several
were full-grown girls, could read a single word ; the mother was
sickly and haggard in her appearance, and one of the little boys
told me that he had not eaten a hearty meal for ten days. I
subsequently learned that the head of this household was a
miserable drunkard.

The river to which I alluded is the Tuck-a-scego, which
empties into the Tennessee. It is a very rapid stream, and
•washes the base of many mountains, which are as wild as they
were a century ago. Whenever there occurs any interval land,
the soil is very rich, and such spots are usually occupied. The
mountains are all covered with forest, where wild game is found
in abundance. The fact is, the people of this whole region
devote more of their time to hunting than they do to agricul-
ture, which accounts for their proverbial poverty. You can
hardly pass a single cabin without being howled at by half a
dozen hounds, and I have now become so well educated in
guessing the wealth of a mountaineer, that I can fix his con-
dition by ascertaining the number of his dogs. A rich man

SMOKY MOUNTAIN.

401

seldom has more than one dog, while a very poor man will keep
from ten to a dozen. And this remark with regard to dogs,
strange as it may* seem, is equally Jipplicable to the children of
the mountaineers. The poorest man without any exception,
whom I have seen in this region, lives in a log cabin with two
rooms, and is the father of nineteen cJiildren, and the keeper of
six hounds.

On my arrival in this place which is the home of a large
number of Cherokee Indians, (of whom I shall have much to
say in future letters,) I became the guest of Mr. William H.
Thomas, who is the "guide, counsellor, and friend" of the
Indians, as well as their business agent. While conversing
with this gentleman, he excited my curiositjr with regard to a
certain mountain in ais vicinity, and, having settled in his own
mind that I should spend a week or two with him and his
Indians, proposed (first excusing himself on account of a busi-
ness engagement) that I should visit the mountain in company
with a gentlemen in his employ as surveyor. The proposed
arrangemeiW^ was carried out, and thus it was that I visited
Smoky Mountain.

This mountain is the loftiest of a large brotherhood which
lie -crowded together upon the dividing line between North
Carolina and Tennessee. Its height cannot be less than five
thousand feet above the level of th" sea, for the road leading
from its base to its summit is seven and a half miles long. The
general character of the mountain is similar to that already
given of other Southern mountains, and all that I can say of
its panorama is, that I can conceive of nothing more grand and
imposing. It gives birth to a pair of glorious streams, the
Pigeon river of Tennessee, and the Ocono-lufti/ of North Caro-
lina, and derives its name from the circumstance that its summit
is always enveloped, on account of its height, in a blue or smoky
atmosphere.

But the chief attraction of smoky mountain is a singular cliff

known throughout this region as the Alum Cave. In reaching

this spot, which is on the Tennessee side, you have to leave

your horses on the top of the mountain, and perform a pedes-

'^'iJ

,„i;£<<ll

M-

402

SMOKY MOUNTAIN.

trian pilgrimage of about six miles up and down, very far up
and ever so far down, and over everything in the way of rocks
and ruined vegetation which Nature could possibly devise, until
you come to a mountain side, which is only two miles from your
starting place at the peak. Bearing along at the base of this
mountain side is a small stream, from the margin of which you
have to climb a precipice, in a zigzag way, which is at least two
thousand feet high, when you find yourself on a level spot of
pulverized stone, with a rocky roof extending over your head
a distance of fifty or sixty feet. The length of this hollow in
the mountain, or "cave," as it is called, is near four hundred
feet, and from the brow of the beetling precipice to the level
below, the distance* is perhaps one hundred and fifty feet. The
top of the cliflF is covered with a variety of rare and curious
plants, and directly over its centre trickles a little stream of
water, which forms a tiny pool, like a fountain in front of a
spacious piazza. The principal ingredients of the rock com-
posing this whitish cliflf are alum, epsom salts, saltpetre,
magnesia, and copperas, and the water which oozes therefrom is
distinguished for its strong medicinal qualities. This strange
and almost inaccessible, but unquestionably very valuable cave,
belongs to a company of neighboring Carolinians, who have
already made some money out of the alum-, but have not yet
accomplished much in the way of purifying and exporting the
various products in which it abounds.

The scenery upon which.this cave 15oks down, however, in-
terested me quite a^ much as the cave itself. From the most
comprehensive point of view two mountains descend abruptly,
into a kind of amphitheatre, where the one on the right termi-
nates in a very narrow and ragged ridge, which Is without a
particle of vegetation, while far beyond, directly in front of
the cave, rises a lofty and pointed mountain, backed by some
three or four of inferior magnitude. The ridge which I have
mentioned is itself very high, but yet the cave looks down upon
it, and it is so fantastic in its appearance that from different
points of view you may discover holes leading like windows en-
tirely through it, while from other places you might fancy that

SMOKY MOUNTAIN.

403

you looked upon a ruined castle, a decayed battlement, or the
shattered tower of an old cathedral. To gaze upon this pros-
pect at the sunset hour, when the mountains were tinged with
a rosy hue, and the immense hollow before me was filled with a
purple atmosphere, and I could sec the rocky ledge basking in
the sunlight like a huge monster on the placid bosom of a lake,
was to me one of the most remarkable and impressive ^enes
that I ever witnessed ; and then remember, too, that I looked
upon this wonderful prospect ■ rom a framework of solid rock,
composed of the overhanging cliff. It was> a glorious picture,
indeed, and would amply repay one for a long pilgrimage.

The ordinary time required i • visit t' 3 Alum Cave ia two
days : but, owing to bad weather, my friend and rself occu-
pied the most of four days in performing the -iC trip. To
give a minute account of all that we me*: ^*th would occup ■ too
much time, and I will therefore only 1 acur I in this place the
incidents which made the deepest impression on my own mind.

O.'r first night from home we spent in the cabin of a man
who treated us with the utmost kindness, and would not receive
a penny for his pains. So much for mountain hospitality.
And now, to prove that our friend wat an intelligent man, it
may be mentioned that he is an adept in the following profes-
sions and trades, viz. those of medicine, the law, the blacksmith,
the carpenter, the hunter, the shoemaker, the watchmaker, the
farmer, and he also seemed to possess an inkling of some half
dozen sciences. Now, 16'^ not exactly mean to assert that the
gentleman is a master pr,. C'+'.-ner in all these departments of
human learning and industry ; but if you were to judge of his
ability by his use of technical words, you would not for a mo-
ment imagine he couLi have a competitor. But so it is in this
wild region, one min has to perform the intellectual labor of a
whole district ; and what is really a hard case, the knowledge
which is thus brought to so good a market is nearly always the
fruit of a chance education and not a systematic one.

Among those who spent the night with us under the roof of
the above accomplished man, was one of the idle vagabonds of
the country. This individual, it appears, had met with a sin-

1 :%

^Iv

Hipr

i/fr^^-

...A

if , *

pi|

WjKfi

Wm^

Ml!

ftpli

iik:ii

i^i^',^

404

SMOKY MOUNTAIN.

gular accident on the day previous, and amused us by relating
it. I regret that I cannot remember all the singular epithets
that he employed, but I will do my best to report him faithfully :

*' Now, the thing happened was this, and I reckon you never
heard sich like afore. A lot of us fcUara was out in 'Squire
Jc-es* millpond a washing ourselves and swimming. Now, I
allow this pond, in a common way, is nigh on to half a mile
long ; but at this time they were draining the pond, and it
warnt so very large. Wall, there was one spot, well nigh the
middle — no, not exactly ; I reckon it was a little to the left —
where the water poured out into a real catarock. The fcllars I
was with got the devil in 'cm, and offered to bet the tabaccer
that I couldn't swim near the big hole in the dam without going
through. I agreed, for I rflways counted myself a powerful
swimmer. .1 made one try, and just touched the outside of the
whirlpool. The fellars laughed at me and said I couldn't come
it. I knew they said what was not so, and I got mad. I
tried it again, and went a bit nearer, when they yelled out
again and said it was no go. By this time I was considerable
perplexed, but I swore to myself I would have the tobaccer,
and I made one more try. But this time I got into the whirl-
pool, and couldn't get out : and, in less than no time, the water
wheeled my head round to the hole, and in I went, quick as a
streak, I went through the hole, 'bout four or six feet long
— no, I allow 'twas seven feet — and fell into the surge below.
and in five minutes or so — perhaps six — I was on dry land,
sound as a button. The joke was on the fellars then, and when
I told 'em to hand over ray plunder, they said they would, and
told mo I looked like a big frog when I come out of the hole
into the pool below tho dam."

On the following morning wo travelled to the foot of Smoky
Mountain, and having obtained a guide, who happened to be
one of tho proprietors of Alum Cavo, we resumed our journey.
In tho immediate vicinity of the cave wo came across an Indian
camp, where were two Indians who were out boar-hunting. W«
were admitted under their bark roof, and with them spent the
night, sleeping upon tho ground. Wo remained a sufficient;

SMOKY MOUNTAIN.

405

length of time to enjoy one supper and one breakfast ; tlie first
was composed of corn bread and bear meat, and the second of
trout (caught in a neighboring stream) and a corn cake fried in
the fat of a bear.

On questioning our Indian landlord, as we sat around our
watch fire, with regard to the Alum Cave, I could only gather
the fact that it was originally discovered by the famous chief
Yo-na-gus-ka, who happened in his youth to track a bear to one
of its corners, where he had a den. Disappointed on this
score, I then turned to our guide to see what ho could tell me
about the cave that was not connected with its minerals, and
the substance of his narrative was as follows :

" I hav'n't much to say about the cave that I knows of ex-
cepting one or two little circumstjfnces about myself and another
man. The first time I come here it was with my brother and
two Indians. The sight of this strange gash in the mountain
and the beautiful scenery all around made me very excited, and
I Avas for climbing on top, and no mistake. The Indians and
my brother started with mo up the ledge at the north end of
the cave, but when we got up half way, just opposite to an
eagle's nest, where the creatures were screaming at a fearful
rate, they all three of them backed down, and said I must not
keep on. I told *em I was determined to see the top, and I
would. I did get on top, and after looking round a while and
laughing at the fellows below, I began to think of going down
again. And then it was that I felt a good deal skcered. I
found I couldn't get down the way I got up, so I turned about
for a new place. It was near sundown, and I hadn't yet found
a place that suited me, and I was afraid I'd have to sleep out
alone and without any fire. And the only way I ever got down
was to find a pine tree that stood pretty close to a low part of
the ledge, some three hundred yards from the cave, when I
got into its top, and so came down among my friends, who said
it was a wonder I hadn't been killed.

" I generally have had to pilot all strangers to the cave since
that time, and I remember one circumstance that happened to
a Tennessee lawyer, who caused us a good deal of fun ; for

t§4n

p'^'*^^

6
. ,1 t'-

;l^-'

■■■■-:■ *'NJ^

1-^

'v\\ Ti!

406

SMOKY MOtTNTAIN.

there was a party of young gentlemen there at the time. We
had a camp right under the cave, where it's always dry, and
ahout midnight the lawyer I mentioned suddenly jumped up as
■we were all asleep, and hegan to yell in the most awful manner,
as if something dreadful had happened. He jumped ahout as
if in the greatest agony, and called on God to have mercy on
him, for he knew he would die. 0, he did carry on at a most
awful rate, and we thought he must have been bitten by some
snake, or was crazy, so we tore off his clothes to see what was
the matter ; and what do you suppose we found ? Nothing
but a harmless little lizard, that bad run up the poor man's
legs, all the way up to his arm-pits, thinking, I suppose, that
his clothes was the bark of a dead tree. After the trouble was
all over, the way we laughed at the fellow was curious."

Our second day at the Alum Cave (and third one from home)
was a remarkably cheerless one ; for a regular snow-storm set
in, mingled with hail, and, before we could reach our horses
and descend the Smoky Mountain, some three or four inches
of snow had fallen. We spent that night under the roof of our
good friend and worthy man, the guide, and it was with diffi-
culty that wo could induce him to receive a bit of money for all
his trouble in piloting us and treating us to his best fare. On
that night we ate our supper at nine o'clock, and what rendered
it somewhat peculiar, was the fact that his two eldest daughters,
and very pretty girls withal, waited upon us at table, holding
above our heads a couple of torches made of the fat pine. That
was the first time that I was ever waited upon in so rej^al a
style, and more than once during the feast did I long to retire
in a corner of the smoky and dingy cabin to take a sketch of
the romantic scene. At sunrise on the following morning my
companion and myself remounted our horses, and in three hours
were eating our breakfast in Qualla Town.

THE CHEROKEE INDIANS.

Qualla Town is a name applied to a tract of seventy-two
thousand acres of land in Haywood county, which is occupied
by about eight hundred Cherokee Indians, and one hundred
Catawbas. Their district is mountainous from one extremity
to the other, and watered by a number of beautiful streams,
which abound in fish ; the valleys and slopes are quite fertile,
and the lower mountains aro well adapted to grazing, and at
the same time are heavily timbered and supplied with every
variety of game. This portion of a inuch larger multitude of
aborigines, in consideration of their rank and age, and of valu-
able services rendered to the United States, were permitted by
the General Government to remain upon their native soil, while
the great body of the Cherokee nation were driven into exile.
They (the exiles) amounted in all to more than Ixteen thou-
sand souls, eighteen hundred and ffty having died on their
way to the ^^ promised land" beyond the Mississippi. And here
it may with propriety be added, tbat since the removal, those
in the West have gradually decreased in numbers, while the
remaining portion have steadily increased by births at the rate
of four per cent, per annum. In addition to the Indians above
mentioned, it ought to bo stated that there is a remnant of two
hundred still remaining in the county of Cherokee ; of whom,
however, I know but little, and therefore purpose to confine my
remarks to those of Qualla Town alone.

The Indians of this district, having formed themselves into a
regular company, with appropriate regulations, they elected an
old friend of theirs, named William H. Thomas, (mentioned

*l''

*»

:i<i«a

t|)«'HI'

. *1 ',; -

i'^'^ibj.

./'I

v"s;."'t

f-'H iT?^

408

THE CHEROKEE INDIANS.

■i\ ft

in my last letter,) to become the' business chief, so that the
connection now existing bv'itween the two parties is that of father
and children. What the r?sult of this arrangement has been,
will be fully understood wht-n I come to speak of the advance
which the Indians have made in the march of civilization. As
they are organized at the present time, the Qualla Town people
are divided into seven clans, and to each clan is assigned what
is called a town, over each of which presides a regular chief.
The Cherokee nation was originally divided into seven clans,
which were probably descended from certain noted families, and
the old party feeling is still preserved with jealous care among
their descendants in this vicinity. The names of the clans
are : In-e-chees-quah, or Bird Clan ; In-egil-lohee, or Pretty-
faced Clan ; In-e-wortah, or Paint Clan ; In-c-wah-he-yah, or
Wolf Clan ; In-e-se-ho-nih, or Blue Clan ; In-^-co-wih, or Deer
Clan ; and In-e-eo-tc-ca-wih, the meaning of which is not
known. And among the customs which prevail am6ng these
clans, is onc^which prevents their marrying among themselves,
so that they have to select their wives from a neighboring fra-
ternity. Formerly such marriages were prohibited by penalty
of death.

With regard to the extent of their civilization and their exist-
ing manner of life, the following may be looked upon as a com-
prehensive summary : About three-fourths of the entire popu-
lation can read in their own language, and, though the majority
of them understand English, a very few can speak the language.
They practice, to a considerable extent, the science of agricul-
ture, and have acquired such a knowledge of the mechanic arts
as answers them for all ordinary purposes, for they manufacture
their own clothing, their own ploughs, ard other farming uten-
sils, their own axes, and even their own guns. Their women
are no lorger treated as slaves, but as equals ; the men labor
in the fields, and their wi» 9 are devoted entirely to household
employments. They keep the eame domestic animals that are
kept by their white neighbors, and cultivate all the common
grains of the country. They are probably as temperate as any
other class of people on the face of the earth, honest in their

THE CHEROKEE INDIANS. 409

business intercourse, moral in their thoughts, words and deeds,
and distinguished for their faithfulness in performing the duties
of religion. They are chiefly Methodists and Baptists, and
have regularly ordained ministers, who preach to them on every
Sabbath, and they have also abandoned many of their mere
senseless superstitions. They have their own courts, and try
their criminals by a regular jury. Their judges and lawyers
are chosen from among themselves. They keep in order the
public roads leading through their settlement. By a law of the
State they have the right to vote, but seldom exercise that
right, as they do not like the idea of being identified with any
of the political parties. Excepting on festive days, they dress
after the manner of the white man, but far more picturesquely.
They live in small log houses of their own construction, and
have every thing they need or desire in the way of food.
They are, in fact, the happiest community that I have yet met
in tliis Southern country, ard no candid man can visit them
without being convinced of '-he wickedness and foolishness of
that policy of the Government, which has always acted upon
the opinion that the red raan could not be educated into a rea-
sonable being.

By way of giving niy readers a correct idea of the present
condition of the Carolina Chcrokees, I will describe a visit that
I paid to one of theiv churches on the Sabbath. I was anxious
to -see how far thay were advanced in the ways of Cliristian
instruction, and> though I noticed many little eccentricities, I
was, upon the whole, very much pleased with what I saw and
heard. I was accompanied by Mr. Thomas, and we reached
the rude but spacious log meeting-house about eleven o'clock.
The first hour was devoted to instructing the children from a
Cherokee Catechism, and the chiefs of the several clans were
the ofiiciating teachers. At twelve o'clock a congregation of
some one hundred and fifty souls was collected, a largo propor-
tion of whom were women, who were as neatly dressed as could
be desired, with tidy calico gowns, and fancy handkerchiefs tied
over their heads. The deportment of all present Avas as cir-
cumspect and solemn as I have ever witnessed in any New

fcijiijiE^Shfc

...j: ,i^-.^;Jjj

^^||*%

xi'itm

:*■■'

>'— ■'.,'v

410 THE CHEROKEE INDIANS.

England religious assembly. '\^ hen a prayer was offered they
all fell upon their knees, and in si/vging, iill but the concluding
hymn, they retained tlieir ; ;ats. Their i »rm of worship was
according to the Methodist ov^totn, hut iu. -heir singing there
wa? a wild and plaintive swcetnefti, which v^-sb very impressive.
The woraeu and children, as well as the men, participated in
this porf ion of the ceremony, and some of the lemale voices re-
minded iue of the caroling of birds. The/ sung four hymns;
three prayers ■^'. ore oHared by several individuals, and two ser-
mons or exhortations were dolivored. The prayers were short
and pointed, "ud, aa the shorten v night be considered a fair
specimen of the others, I will transcribe it for the edification of
my readers :

" Almighty Lord, who art the father of the world, look down
from heaven on this congregation. Bless the Indians, and
supply them with all the food and clothing they * may want;
bless, also, the white men, and give them every thing they may
. need. Aid us all, Lord, in all our good works. Take car j
of us through life, and receive us in heaven when the world
shall be burnt up. Wo pray thee to take care of this young
white man who has come to this Indian meeting. Protect him
in all his travels, and «;o with him to his distant home, for we
know by his kind words that he is a friend of tho poor, igno-
rant, and persecuted Indian. Amen !"

The first preacher who addressed tho meeting was a vener-
able man. Big Charley, and ho took for his text the entire
first chapter of John ; but, before proceeding with his remarks,
he turned to Mr. Thomas and wished to know if he should
preach with the " linguiater," or interpreter, for the benefit of
the young stranger. I told him no ;. but roquostod Mr. Thomas
to take notes, and, through his kindness, it is now my privi-
lege to print the substance of that Cherokee sermon. It was
as follows : •

" In the beginning of creation, the world was covered with
water. God spake the word and the dry land was made. He
next made the day and the night ; also, the sun, moon, and
stars. He then made all the beasts and birds and fishes in the

THE CHEROKEE INDIANS.

411

world, and was much pleased. He wanted some one to take
care of all these creatures, and so he made man, and from his
body a woman, to help him and be his companion. He put
them into a beautiful garden, which was filled with all kinds of
good things to eat, but told them that there was one fruit they
must no, touch. That fruit was an apple, I believe. The
woman was not grateful to God, and when a wicked serpent
told her she might eat of the beautiful fruit which she was so
curious to taste, she did eat of it, and gave some to the man,
and he took some too. God talked with the man about his
wicked conduct, and told him that he and his children should
always have to work very hard for all they had to eat, so long
as they lived in the world ; and to the woman, God said, she
must always suffer very much when she had children, and that
the man should bo her master. The man and woman were then
turned out of the beautiful garden, and they were the father
and mother of all the Indians in the world, as well as the white
men and the black men. They had a 'great many children,
and the world was very full of people. The people were very
wicked, and God warned a good man that he intended to de-
stroy the world by covering it all with water, and that this
good man must build a large boat like a house, and get into it
with his family, that they might not perish. The peopk
laughed at this good man for believing such a story ; but he
took into his house two kinds of all the animals in the world,
and the waters came ; so the world was destroyed. After
many days the good man sent out a dove to find some land,
but it could not find any and came back. He sent it out again,
and it never returned, and soon the great house rested on the
top of a high mountain. Another race of people then covered
the earth ; and a groat many good men lived upon the earth.
One of the greatest of them it was who received from God the
ten commandmentSy which direct all men how to be good and
happy ; but the world was yet very wicked. Long after this,
God sent into the world his only Son, whose name was Jesus
Christ. This wonderful being it was who gave up his own life
that all the wicked of the world might be saved, and the justice

'41

VIM "tin

(.'--iS

U •

412

THE CHEROKEE INDIANS.

of God be satisfied ; and so it is, that all the Indians, as vrell
as the white men, who live like Jesus Christ, can get to heaven
when they die."

In delivering his sermon, the preacher occupied about thirty
minutes ; and the above facts were cemented togetl ar by a
great number of flowery expressions, which made it quite poeti-
cal. Ilis manner was impressive, but not particularly eloquent.
After he had taken his seat, and a hymn had been sung, a
young man stepped into the rude pulpit, who has distinguished
himself by his eloquence. His name is Tekin-neb, or the
Garden of Eden. He spoke from the same text, and his re-
marks bore chiefly on the redemption by Christ. At the con-
clusion of his addrjss, he gave a sketch of his own religious
experience, and concluded by a remarkably affecting appeal to
his hearers. His voice, emphasis, and manner were those of a
genuine orator, and his thoughts were poetical to an uncommon
degree. In dwelling upon the marvellous love of the Saviour,
and the great wickedness of the world, he was affected to tears,
and when he concluded there was hardly a dry eye in the
house.

After the benediction had been pronounced, Mr. Thomas
delivered a short address to the meeting on Temperance and a
jFew secular matters, when the Indians quietly dispersed to their
several homes. I retired to my own temporary home, deeply
impressed by what I tiad seen and heard, for my pride had
been humbled while listening to the rude savage, whose reli-
gious knowledge was evidently superior to my own.

u< -^

6k V--A'

. 't' .^.'-'-^

' it

CHEROKEE CUSTOMS.

The plan adopted for the civilization of the Carolina Chero-
keea differs materially from any others adopted in the United
States. Their amusements are not interfered with, excepting
when found to have an immoral or unhappy tendency. A
goodly number of their more ridiculous games, however, they
have abandoned of their own accord, but the manly game of
hall-playing is still practised after the ancient manner, with
one or two restrictions. In the first place, they are not al-
lowed to wager their property on the games, as of old, unless
it be some trifle in the way of a woollen belt or cotton hand-
kerchief, and they are prohibited from choking each other, and
breaking their heads and legs, when excited, as was their habit
in former times. Since my arrival here, the Indians have had
one of their ball-games ; and as it was gotten up especially for
my edification, J made it a point of etiquette to be present at
the preparatory dance and the game, as well as at the con-
cluding ceremony, and these I will now endeavor to describe.

The preparatory or training dance took place on the night
preceding the game, and none participated in it who were not
to play on the following day. There were sixty young men
present, besides the spectators, and they met on a grassy plot
formed by a bend of a neighboring stream, called Soco Creek.
The danccra were stripped of every particle of clothing but
their waistbands ; they made their own music, which was com-
posed merely of a rapid succession of whoops and shouts ; and
they d'^nced round a largo blazing fire. The night in question
was very beautiful, and Avhen this strange group was looked
upon by the light of the full moon, and the wild mountain
scenery on every side, they presented a most romantic appear-

• ►»■<•«,»''

'^l>-'i:'

" ■■;■ >'J

If -)

•A- -'4
Ml 1

!#"■

414

CHEROKEE CUSTOMS.

ance indee^. They kept up the dance for over an hour, and,
when it was concluded, all the men immediately ran towards a
deep pool in the ice-cold ttream, and without waiting for the
perspiration to cool, plunged into the s iter, and, having finally
emerged, started for their several homes. This dance, I am
informed, had its origin in an ancient custom, which compelled
all the candidates for a game of ball to inure themselves to
every hardship for ten days before the game took place, and
during all that time they were to eat but little food, and were
to refrain from gratifying any of their sensual appetites.

On the morning of the game, a large plain, lying between
two hills and directly in front of the Indian Court-house (a
large circular lodge, built of logs,) was divested of every stone
and stick on its surfiice, and at ten o'clock the spectators began
to assemble. These were composed of the old men of the na-
tion, a large number of boys, and a still larger number of wo-
men* and children. They were all dressed in their holiday
attire, so that feathers, shawl turBans, scarlet belts, and gaudy
hunting shirts were quite abundant; and, scattered as they
were in groups of from five to fifty on the hill sides and under
the shadow of the trees, they presented a most picturesque ap-
pearance. During all this time the players had kept out of
sight, and it was understood that the two parties were among
the bushes, at the two ends of the plain, preparing themselves
for the game. Under the direction of the presiding chief or
c^ame-director, two poles were now erected about six hundred
yards apart, on either side of a given centre, and in this centre
was placed the ball. From this point was the ball to be given
to the players, and the party which first succeeded in throwing
it outside of the pole belonging to their opponents to the num-
ber of twelve times were to be considered the winners.

Everything being ready, a shrill whoop was given from one
end of the plain, and immediately answered by the opposing
party, when they all made their appearance, marching slowly
to the centre, shouting and yelling as they passed along. Each
party consisted of thirty splendidly formed young men, who
were unincumbered by any clothing, (save their common waist-
band,) and every individual carried in his hand a pair of ball

CHEROKEE CUSTOMS.

415

sticks, made with a braided bag at one end. As the parties
approached the centre, the lady-loves of the players ran out
upon the plain and gave their favorite champions a variety of
articles, such as belts and handkerchiefs, which they were will-
ing to wager upor" the valor of their future husbands. This
little movement struck mc as particularly interesting, and I was
greatly pleased with the bashfulness and yet complete confidence
with which the Indian maidens manifested their preferences.

When the several parties were assembled at the centre of the
plain, each man selected his particular antagonist by placing
his sticks at his rival's feet, after wWch the game-director de-
livered a long speech, wherein he warned them to adhere to the
existing re<^ulation3 ; and^ tlirowing the ball high up in the air,
made his escape to one side of the plain, and the game com-
menced. As it proceeded, the players became greatly excited,
and I noticed that the ball was never taken in hand until after
it had been picked up by the spoony stick, but the expertness
with which these movements were performed was indeed sur-
prising. At one time the whole crowd of players would rush
together in the most desperate and fearful manner, presenting,
as they struggled for the ball, the appearance of a dozen gladi-
ators, striving to overcome a monster serpent ; and then again,
as one nun would secure the ball and start for the boundary
line of his opponent, the races which ensued were very beauti-
ful and exciting. Wrestling conflicts also occurred quite fre-
quently, and it often seemed as if the players would break
every bone in their bodies as they tlirew each other into the
air, or dragged each other over tho ground ; and many of the
leaps, which single individuals performed, were really superb.
The exercise was of a character that would kill the majority of
white men. The game lasted for about two hours, and the mo-
ment it was finished, the entire body of players, while yet
panting with excessive fatigue, made a rush for the neighbor-
ing river, and in a short time appeared on the plain in their
usual garb, and the old chief who had held the stakes awarded
the prizes to the winning party. . A short time afterwards the
boys stripped themselves, and went through the same routine
of playing as already described, when the ball-playing was at

I! ■«.-^.

»W'

-^'S

mil

SN^.

;fi"

Ik*'

5?*«ai

^^,

i.«: ■Wl

,-. f

iul

^11

l;*.^'*^

'*i..i'

416

CHEROKEE CUSIOMS.

an end, and the people began to disperse with a view of getting
ready for the evening dance.

I employed the intervening time by going home with one of
the chiefs, and eating a comfortable supper in his log cabin.
The habitation of this chief was made of hewn logs, and occu-
pied a farm of twenty acres on the mountain side, about one-
fourth of which was in a state of cultivation, and planted with
corn and potatoes. lie had a tidy wife and several children,
and his stock consisted of a pony, a cow, and some ten or a
dozen sheep. At nine o'clock, I was again in the midst of a
crowd of Indians, assembled at the court-house of the town. The
edifice, so called, is built of hewn logs, very largo and circular,
without any floor but that of solid earth, and without any seat but
one short bench intended for the great men of the nation. In the
centre of this lodge was a large fire, and the number of persons
who figured in the several dances of the evening, was perhaps
two hundred, all fantastically dressed, and including men, wo-
men, and boys. Each dancer made his own music, and, with
one exception, the dances were of the common Indian sort.
The exception allude.d to was particularly fantastic, and called
"the Pilgrim Dance." They came in with packs on their
backs, with their faces strangely painted, and with gourds hang-
ing at their sides, and the idea seemed to be to represent their
hospitality towards all strangers who visited them from distant
lands. The dancing continued until midnight, when the pre-
siding chief addressed the multitude on the subject of their
duties as intelligent beings, and told them to return to their
several homes and resume their labors in the field and in the
shops. lie concluded by remarking that he hoped I was
pleased with what I had witnessed, and trusted that nothing
had happened which would make the wise men of my country
in the East think less of the poor Indian than they did at the
present time : and he then added that, according to an ancient
custom, as I was a stranger they liked, the several chiefs had
given me a name, by which I should hereafter be remembered
among the Carolina Cheroke.es, and that name was Ga-taw-
hough Nb-quc-sih, or The Wandering Star.

■i ■ '

CHEROKEE CHARACTERS.

In the present letter I purpose to give you a brief historical
account of certain celebrated Cherokee Indians, who are de-
servedly considered as among the bright particular stars of their
nation. Some of them are dead, and some still living, but
they were all born in this mountain land and it is meet that I
should award to each a "passing paragraph of praise."

The first individual that I would mention is Yo-na-gus-ka, or
the Drowning Bear. He was the principal chief of the Qualla
Indians, and died in the year 1838, in the t 'enty-fifth year of
his age. When the Cherokees were invited to remove west of
the Mississippi in 1809, he petitioned President Jefferson that
he might be permitted to remain with his followers, among his
native mountains, and his prayer was granted. He was emi-
nently a peace chief, but obstinately declined every invitation
of the Government to emigrate, and would probably have shed
his blood and that of all his warriors in defending his rights.
When about sixty years of age he had a severe fit of sickness,
which terminated in a trance ; this apparent suspension of all
his faculties lasted about twenty-four hours, during which pe-
riod he was supposed to be dead. It so happened, however,
that he recovered, and on resuming his speech, told his attend-
ants that he had been to the spirit land, and held communion
with his friends who had been long dead ; that they were all
very happy. He also stated that he had seen many white men,
and that some of them appeared to be unhappy. The Great
Spirit talked with him, and told him his time was not yet come
to leave the world : that he had been a good and honest man,
27

-'fe-

418

CHEROKEE CHASACTEKS.

Wm^s^/'

"|^

and that he must return to his people, and govern them with
great care and affection, so that ho might finally come and live
Tifith the Great Spirit forever.

Subsequently to that time his people gave him a now name,
which was Yon-na-yous-ta, or How like an Indian. He gov-
erned his people like a father, and was universally beloved. It
was at his suggestion that Mr. Thomas was adopted into the
Cherokee nation ; the prominent reasons assigned for such a
desire on his part being that Thomas had proved himself to be
the Indian's friend, and was alone in the vorld, having no fa-
ther or brother. Mr. Thomas exerted a great influence over
him, and among the measures which the former recommended
was the adoption of a temperance society for the improvement
of himself and people, who were all addicted to the intoxicat-
ing bowl. Ho was a true patriot at heart, and on being rea-
soned into a correct state of mind, he expressed his determina-
tion to create a reform. lie first reformed himself, and then
summoned a council of all his people, ostensibly but secretly,
for the purpose of establishing a temperance society. At this
council ho made a speech to tho effect that they knew ho had
been an intemperate man, and had discouraged the use of strong
drink, which ho was confident was rapidly annihilating his na-
tion ; he expected to bo with his people but a short time, and
to extricate them from the great evil ho had mentioned was the
rea' ;urposo of tho Great Spirit in prolonging his life ; ho also
spoke of tho many evils to families md individuals resulting
from intemperance ; and when he concluded, it is said that bis
entire audience was in tears. Taking advantage of this triumph,
he called his Scribe, (for ho himself was an illiterate man,) and
requested him to writo these words upon a sheet of paper :
"Iho undersigned drink no more whiskey;" to which pledge
ho requested that his name should be attached. Every mem-
ber of the council appended his name to the paper, and thuH
was established the first temperance society among tho Chero-
fcees, which has already accomplished wonders. Among the
regiilations which lie afterwards proclaimed, was one that each
Indian should pay a fine of two shillings for every offcnco com-

CHEROKEE CHARACTERS.

419

mitted in breaking the pledge, and that the money thus col-
lected should be expended in extending the boundaries of their
territory. And here it may be well to mention the fact, that
tlnough this " father of temperance" among the Indians had
been extremely dissipated during a period of thirty years, he
was never known, even in the loaxj of medicine, to touch a drop
of spirits after his first temperance speech.

The reputation of Yo-na-gus-ka as an orator was co-exten-
sive with his entire nation, itx not only understood the art of
working upon the feelings and clothing his thoughts in the most
appropriate imagery, but the thoughts themselves were invari-
ably sound, and his arguments unanswerable. From many ex-
amples of his reasoning I select one. When once invited by
the ofiicers of Government to remove westward, even after he
and his people had become citizenizcd, ho was informed that in
the West he would have an abundance of the most fertile land,
with plenty of game ; also a government of his own ; that he
would bo undisturbed by the whites, and that the United States
Government would ever protect him from future molestation.
In replying to this invitation, as he stood in the midst of armed
soldiers, he remarked in substance as follows : " I am an old
man, and have counted the snows of almost eighty winters.
My hair, which is now very white, was once like the raven's
wing. I can remember when the white man had not seen the
smoke of our cabins westward of the Blue Ridge, and I have
watched the establishment of all his settlements, even to the
Father of Waters. The march of the white is still towards
the setting sun, and I know that he will never bo satisfied until
ho reaches the shore of the great water. It is foolish in you
to tell me that the whites will not trouble the poor Cherokcvj in
the Western country. Tho white man's nature and the Indian's
fate tell a diflferent story. Sooner or later one Government
must cover tho whole continent, and tho rod people, if not scat-
tered among tho autumn leaves, will become a part of the Ame-
rican nation. A^ to tho white man's promises of protection,
they have been too often broken ; they are like the reeds in
yonder rivor — they are all I'-es. North Carolina had acknow-

i.-.;;f|

'--ii

■ ills-

11;

"•[ M

IP'IW-,^:

"f,,r'!if-

m.mi

."■-■t:

k (

■ ■■m

if -

.!^ mL

420 CHEROKEE CHARACTERS.

ledged our title to these lands, and the United States had gua-
rantied that title ; but all this did not prevent the Government
from taking away our lands by force ; and, not only that, but
sold the very cow of the poor Indian and his gun, so as to compel
him to leave the country. Is this what the white man calls
justice and protection ? No, we will not go to the West. We
wanted to become the children of North Carolina, and she has
received us as such, and passed a law for our protection, and
we will continue to raise our cohi in this very land. The peo-
ple of Carolina have always been very kind to us, and we know
they will never oppress us. You say the land in the West is
much better than it is here. That very fact is an argument on
our side. The white man must have rich land to do his great
business, but the Indian can be happy with poorer land. The
white man must have a flat country for his ^Jough to run easy,
but we can get along even among the rocks on the mountainb.
We never shall do what you want us to do. I don't like you
for your pretended kindness. I always advise my people to
keep their backs for ever turned towards the setting sun, and
never to leave the land of their fathers. I tell them they must
live like good citizens ; never forget the kindness of North Ca-
rolina, and^lways be ready to help her in time of war. I have
nothing more to say."

When Yo-na-gus-ka was about to die, he summoned his chiefs
and warriors to his bed-side, and talked to them at great length
upon the importance of temperance, and in opposition to the
idea of their emigrating to the West, arid made them swear that
they would never abandon the. graves of their fathers, or his
own grave, which is now marked by a pile of stones on the
margin of the Soco. In personal appearance ho was very
handsome, and left two wives. He was the owner of consi-
derable property, and among his possessions was an old negro
named Cudjo. This man is now living, and on questioning
him about his former master he replied : "If Yo-na-gus-ka luul
had larning, I b'lievo he'd been u very great mnn. IIo never
allowed himself to be called master, for he said Cudjo was his
brother, and not his slave. He was a great friend o' mine, and

CH£ROI||£ CHARACTERS. 421

when he died, I felt as I didn't care about living any longer
myself; but Yo-na-gus-ka is gone, and poor old Cudjo is still
Riive and well."

The second character that I would introduce to my readers
is now living in Qualla Town. His name is Salola, or the
Squirrel. He is quite a young man, and has a remarkably
thoughtful face. He is the blacksmith of his nation, and with
some assistance supplies the whole of Qualla Town with axes
and ploughs ; but what is more, he has manufactured a num-
ber of very superior rifles and pistols, including stock, barrel,
and lock ; and he is also the builder of grist-mills which grind
all the corn that his people eat. A specimen of his workman-
*"Lip, in the way of a rifle, may be seen at the Patent-Ofiice,
in Washington, where it was deposited by Mr. Thomas ; and I
believe Salola is the first Indian who ever manufactured an
entire gun. But, Avhen it is remembered that he never re-
ceived a particle of education in any of the mechanic arts, but
is entirely self-taught, his attainments must be considered truly
remarkable.

That he labors under every disadvantage in his most worthy
calling, may be shown by '^: ■; fact that he uses & flint-stone for
an anvil, and a water-blast i'./ a bellows. In every particular
he is a most worthy man, and though unable to speak the Eng-
lish tongue, is a very good scholar in his own language. He
is the husband of a '^;<tawba woman, whom he married before
he could speak one ivord of her oivn tongue, or she could speak
Cherokee ; but they have now established a language of their
own, by which they get along very well. Salola, upon the
whole, is an honor to the country, and one whose services in
some iron or steel establishment of the eastern cities would be
of great value. Is there not some gentleman in Philadelphia
or New York who would take pleasure la patronizing this me-
chanical prodigy of the wilderness 'i

Another of the characters I intended to mention is named
Euchella. He is a very worthy chief, and now in the after-
noon of his days. He is quite celebrated among his people as
a warrior, but is principally famous for important services ren-

1 ||||MWtt||||||

■ it-*-

i^lTll'ij

l«'f '^.1

»sm%

■■Hi

i'A

■;

%>:

422

CHEROKEE CHA^CTERS.

dered by him to the United States Government during the
Cherokee troubles. He, and a band of one hundred followers,
first attracted public attention by evading, for upwards of a
whole year, the oflBcers of Government who had been com-
manded to remove the party beyond the Mississippi. It hav-
ing been ascertained, however, that Euchella could not easily
be captured, and Avould never submit to leave his country, it
was determined that an overture should bo made, by which he
and his brotherhood of warriors could be secured to assist the
whites in their troublesome efforts to capture three Indians who
had murdered a number of soldiers. The instrument employed
to effect a recon -filiation was the Indian trader, Mr. Thomas,
who succeeded in appointing a meeting with Euchella on a re-
mote mountain-, ^p.

During this interview, Mr. Thomas remonstrated wi'/u
Euchella, and toM him that, if he would join the whites, he
might remain 'u Carolina md he at peace. "I cannot be at
peace," replied the warrior, "because it is now a whole year
that your scldiers have hunted me like a wild deer. I havt
suffered from the white man more than I can bear. I had a
wife and a little child — a brave, bright-eyed boy — and because
I would not become your slave, tuey were left to starve upon
the mountains. Yes ; and I buried them with my own hand,
at midnight. For a whole week at a time have I been without
bread myself, and this in my own country too. I cannot bear
to think upon my wrongs, and I scorn your proposition." It so
happened, however, that he partially relented, and having sub-
mitted tlie proposition io his warriors, whom he summoned to
his side by a whoop, they agreed to accept it, and from that
time Euchella became an ally of the army. It was by the
efforts of Euchella and his band that the murderers already
mentioned were arrested and punished. They had been con-
demned by a court martial, and sentenced to bo shot, and tho
scorn of death manifested by one of them named Charley, is
worth recording. lie had been given into the hands of Euchella,
and when he was tied to tho tree, by one arm, where ho was to
die, (to which confinement he submitted without a murmur,) he

':,v ':f

CHEROKEE CHARACTERS.

leen com-

askcd permission to make a few remarks, which was of course
granted, and he spoke as follows : " And is it by your hands,
EuchcUa, that I am to die? We have been brothers together;
but Euchclla. has promised to be ihe white man's friend, and he
must do his duty, and poor Charley is to suffer because he
loved his country. 0, Euchella! if the Cherokee people now
beyond the Mississippi carried my heart in their bosoms, they
never wov^d have left their beautiful native land — their own
mountain land. I am not afraid to die ; 0, no, I want to die,
for my heart is very heavy, heavier than lead. But, Euchella,
there is one favor that I would ask at your hands. You
know that I had a little boy, who was lost among the moun-
tains. I want you to find that boy, if he is not dead, and tell
him that the last words of his father were that he must never
go beyond the Father of Waters, but die in the lanc^of his
birth. It is sweet to die in one's own country, and to be buried
by the margin of one's native stream." After the bandage
had been placed over his eyes, a little delay occurred in the
order of execution, when Charley gently raised the bandage,
and saw a dozen of Euchella's warriors in the very act of
firing; ho then replaced the cloth, without manifesting the
least anxiety or moving a muscle, and in a moment more the
poor savage was weltering in his bloo 1. And so did all three
of the murderers perish.

Another name famous in the unwritten annals of Cherokee
history, is that of an Indian named Guess, who was the inven-
tor of the Cherokee alphabet. This alphabet contains eighty-
six characters, each one of which represents a distinct sound.
It can be acquired, by an apt scholar, in the course of ten days,
and is now the foundation of the Cherokee literature. Guess
died at the West in the year 1842.

The individual who translated the New Testament was an
educated Indian, named Uliaa Boudinoty who lost his life by
the hand of an Indian assassin. At the time of his death he
was engaged upon a translation of the Bible, and was cut down
in the midst of his usefulness, in 1880, merely because ho had
the foarleesnoss and the honesty to disagree with a majority of

l^^ki

p^m'

^f^:

K [

■fM,U

'sv\*^k

'W^'^'

CHEROKBE OHARAOTBBS.

the Arkansas' Cherokees in regard to a certain treaty. John
Ridge, also an educated Indian, and his father Major Midge,
were hrave and honorable men, who were the friends of Boudi-
not, and like him perished by the hands of assassins, at the
same time and for the same cause. The elder Bidge acted a
conspicuous part in the battle of the Horse-Shoe, in the Creek
war ; while the younger Ridge was mainly distinguished for his
intelligence and the happy influence of his life and gapd works.

/^<J^■'Zim:^rm■ao^n

^-m

j'!^f~^5j^

HICKORY NUT GAP.

fMn

'\ '

"^ii<i :,

The distance from Qualla Town to the Hickory Niit Gap is
sixty miles. The first half of the route is exceedingly moun-
tainous and almost entirely uncultivated, but iVe valley of
Pigeon river, down which you have to travel for a ctnsiderable
distance, is very fertile and well cultivated. A pastor rl charm
seems to rest upon the scenery, and in this particular i ircibly
reminded me of the upper valley of the Mohawk. I oct rpled
the most of two days in performing this trip, and the ^nly
incident that I met with which was at all unique, was upon ihis
wise. I had stopped at a farm-house to take my dinner. It
80 happened that my host was about to erect a new barn, ai d
some twenty of his neighbors were assembled for the purpote
of raising the frame work to its proper position. An abundance
of whiskey had already been imbibed by a few of this rustic
company, and among these was one individual who had recently
been grossly cheated in purchauing a horse from a Tennessee
horse-dealer. He had given a mule and twenty dollars for the
stranger's gelding, and, though the animal was quite respectable
in appearance, it had turned out to be old, unsound, ami almost
without a redeeming quality. The individual in question was
noted for making a fool of himself when intoxicated, and en
this occasion he was determined to prove true to himself. At
this time his horse speculation seemed to weigh heavily upon
his mind, and in his vehement remarks ho took particular pains
to curse the entire State of Tennessee, including President
* Polk. The poor man finally became so completely excited that
he BWore he would whip the first man he met on the road who

guar

%..

c '^'*!«ai.

(

426

HICKORY NUT GAP.

/^H

l'"^»l

happened to be from Tennessee ; and so the matter rested. In
about thirty minutes thereafter, as fortune would have it, a man
made his appearance on the road, apparently from the West ;
and in jeering their noisy companion, the farmers remarked
that " now he would have a chance to revenge himself." The
excitement of the horse-bitten speculator was consequently
greatly increased, and when the stranger reached the hill-top
ho was accosted as follows :

"May I ask you, sir, if you come from Tennessee?"

" I do. What will jq% have?" replied the stranger.

The Carolinian then related his trading story, which he con-
cluded by carefully reiterating the determination he had made.
The stranger laughed at the idea, and was about to resume his
journey, when the reins of his horse were seized, and he found
that it was indeed necessary for him to fight his way out of the
queer scrape. All remonstrance on his part was in vain ; but
at the very moment the fight was to commence, another horse-
man rode up, who was also interrogated as to his native State.
His presence had a tendency to suspend hostilities; but Avhen
it was ascertained that he was only a Kentuckian, the Caroli-
nian insisted upon going on with his business. The feelings of
the Kentuckian were now enlisted, and he declared his intention
of regulating the fight; whereupon he made a large ring, and
taking out of his pocket a couple of pistols, he told the com-
batants "to go ahead,'' and at the same time warned the
bystanders that he would shout the first man that interfered.
The conclusion of the whole matter was, that the intoxicated
man received a cruel thrashing for his ridiculous conduct, and
the two gentlemen from the West quietly resumed their several
journeys.

On my Avay to this place, I stopped for a few hours at Dear
vers Sulphur Springs, which are abovt four miles from the
French Broad river, on the road to Clarksville, Georgia. This
is one of the most popular watering-places in the South, not
only on account of the medicinal qualities of the water, but on
account of the surrounding scenery, which is remarkably inter-
esting, and also for the additional reason that the style in which

HICEORT NUT GAP.

427

people are entertained is well worthy of even such places as
Saratoga. The several buildings connected with the establish-
ment usually accommodate about two hundred families during
the summer months, and they are chiefly from the cities of
Charleston and Savannah. The people of Eastern North Car-
olina do not seem to know that they have such a delightful re-
treat within their borders, which, to a man of genuine taste., is
as far ahead of Saratoga as a mountain stream is ahead of a
canal.

With regard to Ashville, I can only say that it is a very busy
and pleasant village, filled with intelligent and hospitable inha-
bitants, and is the centre of a mountain land, where Nature has
been extremely liberal and tasteful in piling up her mighty bul-
warks for the admiration of man. Indeed, from the summit of
a hill immediately in the vicinity of the village, I had a south-
western view which struck me as eminently superb. It was
near the sunset hour, and the sky was flooded with a golden
glow, which gave a living beauty to at least a hundred moun-
tain peaks, from the centre of which loomed high towards the
zenith Mount Pisgah and the Cold Mountain, richly clothed
in purple, which are from twenty to thirty miles distant, and
not far from six thousand feet in height. The middle distance,
though in reality composed of wood-crowned hills, presented
the appearance of a level plain or valley, where columns of blue
smoke were gracefully floating into the upper air, and whence
came the occasional tinkle of a bell, as the cattle wended their
way homeward, after roaming among the unfenced hills. Di-
rectly at my feet lay the little town of Ashville, like an oddly-
shaped figure on a green carpet ; and over the whole scene
dwelt a spirit of repose, which seemed to quiet even the common
throbbings of the heart.

M^ first expedition on arriving here was to a gorge in the
Blue Ridge called the Hickory Nut Gap. How it came by
that name I cannot imagine, since the forests in this particular
region, so far as I could ascertain, are almost entirely destitute
of the hickory tree. It v true that for a distance of four miles
the gorge is watered by a brook called after the hickory nut,

if-.-.

fr^^'^s^ yi

fsi*"

'<■ ■■"'

>N."NJ

428

TllCKOEY NUT QiP.

V iOl

but I take it t^at this nam^ is a borrowed one. The entire
length of the gap is about nine miles, and the last five miles are
watered by the Rocky Broad River. The upper part of this
stream runs between the Blue Ridge proper and a spur of the
Blue Ridge, and at the point where it forces a channel through
the spur its bed is exceedingly rocky, and on either hand, until
it reaches the middle country of the State, it is protected by a
series of mountain bluifs. That portion of the gorge which
might be called the gateway, is at the eastern extremity. From
any point of view this particular spot is remarkably imposing'
the gap being not more than half a mile wide, though appearing
to narrow down to a few hundred yards. The highest bluff is
on the south side, and, though rising to the height of full
txtmnty-five hundred feet^ it is nearly perpendicular, and midway
up its front stands an isolated rock, looming against the sky,
which is of a circular form, and resembles the principal turret
of a stupendous castle. The entire mountain is composed of
granite, and a large proportion of the bluff in question positively
hangs over the abyss beneath, and is as smooth as it could pos-
sibly be made by the rains of uncounted centuries. Over one
portion of this superb cliff, falling far down into some undis-
covered and apparently unattainable pool, is a stream of water,
which seems to be the offspring of the clouds ; and in a neigh-
boring brook near the base of this precipice are three shooting
waterfalls, at the foot of which, formed out of the solid stone,
are three holes, which are about ten feet in diameter, and mea-
sure from forty to fifty feet in depth. But, leaving these re-
markable features entirely out of the question, the mountain
scenery in this vicinity is as beautiful and fantastic as any I
have yet witnessed among the AUeghanies. At a farm-house
near the gap, where I spent a night, I had the pleasure of meet-
ing an English gentleman and tourist, and he informed me that,
though he had crossed the Alps in a number of places, yet he
had never seen any mountain scenery which he thought more
beautiful than that of the Hickory Nut Gap. My best view of
the gorge was from the eastward, and just as the sun, with a
niagnificent retinue of clouds, was sinking directly in the hollow

HICKORY iniT GAP.

429

of the hills, and as I gazed upon the prospect, it seemed to me,
as was in reality the case, that I stood at the very threshold of
an almost boundless Tvil lerness of mountains.

Before visiting this remarkable passage through the moun-
tains, I endeavoro ' "crtain from the Cherokees of Qualla
Town, its origin name, but .without succeeding. It
was my good fort to obtain a romantic legend con-
nected therewith. it from the lips of a Chief who
glories in the two names of All Bones and Flying Squirrel,
and, though he occupied no less than two hours in telling the
story, I will endeavor to give it to my readers in about fi\ e
minutes.

There was a time when the Cherokees were without the
famous Tao-lungh, or tobacco weed, with which they had pre-
viously been made acquainted by a wandering stranger from the
far East. Having smoked it in? their large stone pipes, they
became impatient to obtain it in abundance. They ascertained
that the country where it grew in the greatest quantities was
situated on the big waters, and that the gateway to that coun-
try (a mighty gorge among the mountains) was perpetually
guarded by an immense number of little people or spirits. A
council of the bravest men in the nation was called, and, while
they were discussing the dangers of visiting the unknown coun-
try, and bringing therefrom a large knapsack of the fragrant
tobacco, a young man stepped boldly forward and said that he
would undertake the task. The young warrior departed oi his
mission and never returned. The Cherokee nation were now
in great tribulation, and another council was held to decide upon
a new measure. At this council a celebrated magician rose and
expressed his willingness to relieve his people of their diflScul-
ties, and informed them that he would visit the tobacco country
and see what he could accomplish. He turned himself into a
mole, and as such made his appearance eastward of the moun-
tains ; but, having been pursued by the guardian spirits, he was
compelled to return without any spoil. He next turned himself
into a humming-bird, and thus succeeded, to a very limited ex-
tent, in obtaining what he needed. On returning to his coun-

1^-'

■w-

ii"*:,',,,;,
r''

i,jL.-— ^-> I

&'■';■.. ^^

5:1.; i J

^7^

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

^>.

1.0

I.I

■^ iiii |2.2

1^ 12.0

\m ii.4

III

1.6

Photographic

Sciences

Corporalion

33 WIST MAIN STUIT
WnSTIR.N.Y. MStO

(716) trausoa

480

I.' .'UOCV -.'■'

HICKORY NUT GAP.

^, Kefotmij la' number of his friends at the point of death, on
account of their intense desire for the fragrant yreed ; there-
upon he placed son: 3 of it in a pipe, and having blown the smoke
into the nostrils of those who were sick, they all revived and
were quite happy. The magician now took it into his head
that he would revenge the Idss of the young warrior, and at the
same time become the sole possessor of all the tobacco in the
unknown land. He therefore turned himself into a whirlwind,
and in passing through the Hickory Nut Gorge he stripped the
mountains of their vegetation, and scattered huge rocks in every
part of the narrow valley ; whereupon the little people were
all frightened away, and he was the only being in the country
eastward of the mountains. In the bed of a stream he found
the bones of the ^young warrior, and having brought them to
life, and turned himself into a man again, the twain returned
to their own country heavily laden with tobacco; and ever
since that time it has been very abundant throughout the entire
land.

'^., V

THE FRENCH BROAD RIVER.

'!"'.(:

I HAVB just returned from an excursion down the French
Broad River to Patton's Warm Springs, and the neighboring
curiosities, and I now purpose to describe the " wonders I have
seen." The original Indian name of the French Broad Was
Pse-li-eo, the meaning of which I have not been ible to ascer-
tain. Its English name was derived from a famous hunter
named French. It is one of the principal tributaries of the
Tennessee, about one hundred miles long, from one to two hun-
dred yards wide ; and, taking its rise in the Blue Ridge near
the border of South Carolina, runs in a northwestern direction.
Judging of the whole, by a b -action of fifty miles, lying westward
of Ashville, it must bo considered one of the most beautiful
rivers in this beautiful land. In running the distance above
mentioned it has a fall of nearly fifteen hundred feet, and its
bed seems to be entirely composed of solid rock. In depth it
varies from five to fifteen feet, and, generally speaking, is quite
clear, abounding in a great variety of plebeian fish. Its shores
are particularly wild and rocky, for the most part nearly per-
pendicular, varying from one to four hundred feet in height,
and, though usually covered with vegetation, they present fre-
quent clifis of granite, freestone, and blue limestone, which ac-
tually droop over the rushing waters and present a most im-
posing appearance. With regard to its botanical curiosities, it
can safely be said that a more fruitful and interesting valley can
nowhere bo found in tho Union. Here wo have not only every
variety of American forest trees, but bushes, plants, flo'. . x
and vinos in tho greatest profusion, and of the most vigorc j(>

ii?fil

432

THE FRENCH BROAD RIVER.

growth ; many of the grape vines, which weigh down the mighty
sycamore, seem to be long enough, and strong enough, to link
together a hundred ships o{ %ar. When it is remembered, too,
that the air is constantly heavy with the fragrance of flowers,
and tremulous with the perpetual roar of the stream, it may be
readily imagined that a ride down the French Broad is a unique
pleasure. Back of the river on either side of the country is
hilly and somewhat cultivated, but its immediate valley contains
nothing that smacks of civilization but a turnpike road, and an
occasional tavern. This road runs directly along the water's
edge nearly the entire distance, and, on account of the quantity
of travel which passes over it, is kept in admirable repair. It
is the principal thoroughfare between Tennessee and South
Carolina, and on immense number of cattle, horses, and hogs,
are annually driven over it to the seaboard markets. Over this
road also quite a large amount of merchandise is constantly
transported for the merchants of the interior, so that mammoth
wagons, with their eight and ten horses, and their half-civilized
teamsters, are as plenty as blackberries, and afford a romantic
variety to the stranger.

In ' '-^ing down the French Broad, I overtook a gentleman on
hor^ '., who accompanied me about twenty miles. Imme-
diately after the first salutation was passed, and he had ascer-
tained that I was from the eastward, he questioned me with
regard to the latest news from China. I was surprised at the
question, and after telling him I had none to communicate, I
oould not refrain from asking him what was the secret of his
interest in that remote Empire. He replied that he resided on
th . j^^ench Broad, and was a dealer in ginseng. I had heard
of the article before, and knew that it was found in abundance
throughout this mountain region. My friend described it as a
beautiful pl> t, with one stem growing to a height of eighteen
inches, having at the top three leaves, each composed of fine
leaflets, indented along the margin and closely resembling the
sarsaparilla plant. That portion of it, however, which is prepared
for market is the root. Tht Chinese are the only people in the
world who make any use of it whatever ; but with them it has

-H =iA

THE FRENCH BROAD RIVER.

433

:''t '■' iiii

been an article of commerce from time immemorial. It is said
to be associated in some way or other with an unexplained su-
perstition. Formerly it was obtained exclusively from Tartary,
and the Tartars were in the habit of saying that they could
never find it, excepting by shooting a magic arrow, which inva-
riably fell where the plant was abundant. The Chinese call it
the " food of immortality," and they declare it to be a remedy
for every inherited evil, wholesome for the frail in body, re-
freshing for the memory, calming the wild passions and bestow-
ing inexpressible delight. It is said also that the right for col-
lecting it in China is conferred by the Emperor, and the pun-
ishment awarded to those who gather it without permission is
perpetual slavery. It is not thought to possess any valuable
medicinal quality, and only has the effect of strengthening the
sensual appetites. It is used in the same manner that we use
tobacco, and to the tongue is an agreeable bitter. It has been
an article of export from this country for half a century, and
the most extensive American shippers reside in Philadelphia.
It is sold for about sixty cents the pound, and my travelling
companion told me that his sales amounted to about forty
thousand dollars per annum. What ' an idea ! that even the
celestials are dependent upon the United States for one of their
cherished luxuries, and that luxury a common unnoticed plant
of the wilderness ! Ours is, indeed a great country."

I come now to speak of the Warm Springs, which are thirty-
six miles from Ashville, and within six of the Tennessee line.
Of the Springs themselves there are some half a dozen, but the
largest is covered with a house, and divided into two equal
apartments, either one of which is sufficiently large to allow of
a swim. The temperature of the water is 105 degrees, and it
is a singular fact that rainy weather hab a tendency to increase
the heat, but it never varies more than a couple of degrees.
All the springs are directly on the southern margin of the
French Broad ; the water is clear as crystal, and so heavy
that even a child may be thrown into it with little danger of
being drowned. As a beverage the water is quite ][^itable,
and it is said that some people can drink a number (^quarts
28

I'T"

484

THE FRENCH BROAD RIVER.

\ ' %

':-vl

per day, and yet experience none but beneficial effects. The
diseaEfes which it is thought to cure are palsy, rheumatism, and
cutaneous affections ; but they are of no avail in curing pulmo-
nic or dropsical affections. The Warm Springs are annually
visited by a large number of fashionable and sickly people from
all the Southern States, and the proprietor has comfortable ac-
commodations for two hundred and fifty persons. His principal
building is of brick, and the ball-room is 230 feet long. '.'.lusic,
dancing, flirting, wine-drinking, riding, bathing, fishing, scenery-
hunting, bowling, and reading, are all practised here to an un-
limited extent ; but, what is more exciting than all these pleas-
ures put together, is the rare sport of deer-hunting ; and hereby
'* hangs a tale" to which I must devote a separate paragraph.

My polite landlord had intimated his intention of affording
me a little sport ; and immediately after a twelve o'clock dinner,
on a certain day, he stepped out upon his piazza, and gave two
or three blasts with a small horn, the result of which was, that,
in about fifteen minutes, a negro mounted on a handsome horse
made his appearance, accompanied by some twenty yelping
hounds. The horn was next handed to the negro, and he was
requested to go to a certain spot on the mountains about three
miles off, and put the dogs out after a deer. Two hoiT} having
elapsed, the landlord, his son, and myself each took a rifle, and,
after riding some three miles up the French Broad, we stationed
ourselves at different points, for the purpose of welcoming the
deer, which was expected to take to the water on the opposite
side. We had scarcely been ten minutes in our hiding places
before the loud baying of the hounds was heard, as they were
coming down one of the mountain ravines, and in another in-
stant a very large buck (with his horns as yet only about a foot
long) plunged into the rapid stream. Instead of crossing the
water, however, he made his way directly down the river, now
swimming and now leaping, with the entire pack of hounds
directly in his foamy wake. It was evident that he considered
himself hard pressed, and, though now approaching a very rocky
fall ii^^e stream, he gave himself to the current and went over,
and ilHeemed as if he must inevitably perish. But another

• — ^-61

THE FRENCH BROAD RIVER.

4d5

call was immediately made upon our sympathies, for we disco-
vered the entire pack of hounds passing into the same hell of
waters. We remained in suspense, however, but a few moments,
for we saw the pursued and the pursaers all emerge from the
foam entirely unharmed, and still struggling in the race. Now
the deer took to an island, and then to another, and now again
to the water, and away did the whole pack speed down the
river. By this time the buck was evidently becoming tired,
and certain of being overtaken ; and, having reached a shallow
place in the river, he turned upon the dogs and stood at bay.
His movements during this scene were indeed superb, and I
could not but pity the noble fellow's condition. His sufferings,
however, were of short duration, for, while thus standing in full
front of his enemies, the landlord's son sent a ball through his
heart from the shore, and with one frightful leap the monarch
of the mountains was floating in a crimson pool. The mounted
negro now made his appearance, as if by magic, and, having
waded and swam his horse to the dead deer, took the creature
in tow, brought him to the land, threw him upon his horse, and
so ended the afternoon deer-hunt.

About six miles from the Warm Springs, and directly on the
Tennessee line, arc located a brotherhood of perpendicular
cliffs, which are known as the Painted Rocks. They are of
limestone, and rise from the margin of the French Broad to the
height of two, three and lour hundred feet. They are of a
yellowish cast, owing to the drippings of a mineral water, and
In form as irregular and fantastic as can well bo imagined.
They extend along the river nearly a mile, and at every step
present now phases of beauty and grandeur. Taken separately,
it requires but a trifling effort of the fancy to find among them
towers, ramparts and moats, steeples and domes in abundance ;
but when taken as a whole, and viewed from the opposite bank
of the river, they present the appearance of a once magnificent
city in ruins. Not only are they exceedingly beautiful in
themselves, but the surrounding scenery is highly attractive,
for the mountains seem to have huddled themselves together
for the purpose of looking down upon and admiring the winding

':■. **%

^■*L

if" '%m

-■^-iS

■ifi:;;;"

436

THB FRENCH BROAD RIVER.

and rapid stream. With regard to historical and legendary
associations, the Painted Rocks are singularly barren ; in this
particular, hoirever, they are like the entire valley of the
French Broad, where ralics of a by-gone people are few and
far between. The mgged aspect of this country would seem
to imply that it was never ftgularly inhabited by the Indians,
but was their hunting ground; and what would appear to
strengthen this idea is the fact that it is, even at the present
day, particularly famous for its game.

On the day that I returned from my trip down the French
Broad, the weather was quite showery, and the consequence
was, the rain was occasionally employed as an apology for
stopping and enjoying a quiet conversation with the people on
the road. At one of the places where I halted there was a
contest going on between two Whigs, concerning the talents of
the honorable gentleman who represents the famous county of
Buncombe in Congress. The men were both strongly attached
to the representative, and the contest consisted in their efforts
to excel each other in complimenting their friend, and the cli-
max of the argument seemed to be that Mr. Glinoman was not
^' some pumpkins," but '' pumpkins." The strangeness of this
expression attracted my attention, and when an opportunity
offered I questioned -the successful disputant as to the origin
ftnd meaning of the phrase he had employed, and the substance
of his reply was that a small man, intellectually, was nothing ;
a man of average smartness, some j7um^Kn«; and a superior
man, pumpkins.

At another of the houses where I tarried for an hour, it was
my fortune to arrive just in time to witness the conclusion of a
domestic quarrel between a young husband and his wife. Ou
subsequently inquiring into the history of this affectionate
couple, I obtained the following particulars : The young man
was reported to be a very weak-minded individual, and ever
since his marriage had been exceedingly jealous of his wife,
who (as I had seen) was quite beautiful, but known to be per-
fectly true to her husband. Jealousy, however, was the rage
of the man, and he was constantly making himself very ridi-

THE FRENCH BROAD RIVER.

437

culous. His wife remonstrated, but at the same time appre-
ciated his*folly, and acted accordingly. On one occasion she
was politely informed by her husband that he was very unhappy,
and intended to hang himself. " Very well," replied the wife,
" I nope you will have a good time." The husband was des-
perate, and having obtained a rope, and carefully adjusted a
certain stool, he slipped the former over his head, and, when
he knew that his wife was looking on, he swung himself to a
cross-beam of his cabin. In playing his trick, however, he un-
fortunately kicked over the stool, (which he had placed in a
convenient spot for future use in regaining his feet,) and was
well nigh losing his life in reality, but was saved by the timely
assistance of his wife. His first remark on being .ci^t down
was, " Jane, won't you please go after the doctor : I've twisted
my neck dreadfully."

I also picked up, while travelling along the French Broad,
the following bit of history connected with one of the hand-
somest plantations on said river. About forty years ago a
young girl and her brother (who was a mere boy) found them-
selves in this portion of North Carolina, strangers, orphans,
friendless, and with only th<^ moneyed inheritance of one hun-
dred and fifty dollars. 'V, ui'. this money the girl bought a
piece of land, and, her little brother having died, she hired her-
self out as housekeeper. In process of time she married, gave
her little property into the keeping of her husband, who squan-
dered it, died a drunkard, and left her without a penny. By
the kindness of a friend she borrowed a couple of hundred dol-
lars, and came to Ashville and opened a boarding-house. In
the course of five years she made ten thousand dollars, married
a second time, and by the profligacy and death of her second
husband again lost every penny of her property. Years elapsed,
and the unceasing industry of the poor ^idow was recompensed
by the smiles of fortune, and she is now the owner of a large and
valuable plantation, which is the fruit of her own individual
toil, and a number of strong and manly sons are the comfoits
of her old age. But enough ! I am now in Ashville, and at the
conclusion of my letter.

tiittta

•''-.;*'i

'f'''mm

■ii;,.:

4.^^

.id,

■4

■S^i ili'

! .

BLACK MOUNTAIN.

Twenty-five miles froiu Ashville, in a northerly direction,
stands Black Mountain, which is the gloomy looking patriarch
of the AUeghanies, and claimed to be the most elevated point
of land eastward of the Mississippi. It is nearly seven thou-
sand feet high, and, with its numerous pinnacles, covers an
area of territory which must measure in length a distance of at
least twenty miles. Unlike its fellows in this Southern land,
it is covered with a dense forest from base to summit, where
may be found nearly every variety of American trees, from the
willow and the elm, to the oak and the Canada fir ; and it is
the parent of at least a hundred streams. Not a rood of its
rocky and yet fertile surface has ever been cultivated, and its
chief inhabitants are the panther, the bear, and the deer.
Almost its only human denizen is one Frederick Burnet, a
" mighty hunter," who is now upwards of forty years of age,
and is said to have slain between five hundred and six hundred
bears upon this mountain alone. To obtain an adequate idea
of its height and grandeur, it should be viewed from at least a
dozen points of the compass, and with regard to the circular
and apparently boundless panorama which it commands, it can
be far better imagined than described. On questioning one of
the wild natives of the region as to the character of this pros-
pect, he replied : " Good heavens ! sir, it looks down upon every
seaport in the United States, and across the whole of Mexico."
On learning this truly remarkable circumstance, my curiosity
was of course excited, and I questioned my informant as to the
facilities of looking off from the peak. "Directly on the

!*%f

BLACK MOUNTAIN.

48tf

higheL!^ poiDt," said he, ''stands a single fir-tree, which you
have to climb, and thus look down on all creation." And how
do you reach the summit ?" I continued. " ! it's a very easy
matter, stranger ; you only have to walk about six miles, and
right straight up the roughest country you ever did see."

With this intelligence I was fully satisfied, and thereupon
concluded that I should waste none of my strength merely for
the privilege of *' climbing a tree," even though it were the
most elevated in the land. One of my Ashville friends, how-
ever, to whom I had brought let: rs of introduction, spoke to
ine of the Black Mountain in the most enthusiastic terms, said
that I ought to visit it, and added that he had gotten up a party
of one dozen gentlemen, including himself, who were resolved
upon visiting the foot of the mountain in my company. They
were described as lovers of scenery, anglers and hunters, and it
was proposed that we should go on horseback, though accom-
panied by a kind of tender, consisting of a small wagon load of
provisions, fishing-rods, and guns, which was to be under the
especial charge of an old negro named ^am Drymond. I was
of course delighted with this arrangement, and, as the expedi-
tion was accomplished to the satisfaction of all concerned, I
will give an account of its principal incidents.

Our cavalcade started at the break of day, and, as Miss For-
tune would have it, in what we imagined a morning shower. It
so happened, however, that it rained almost without ceasing
until we reached our place of destination, which was a log
shantee not far from the base of thv '31ack Mountain, and about
six miles from its summit. Our course lay up the valley of the
tSwannanoah, which, in spite of the rain, I could not but admire
for its varied beauties. This river rises on the Black Mountain,
is a charming tributary of the French Broad, from five to
twenty yards in width, cold and clear, very rapid, and through-
out its entire length is overshaded by a most luxuriant growth
of graceful and sweet-scented trees and vines. The plantations
on this stream are highly cultivated, the surrounding scenery
is mountainous, graceful, and picturesque, and among the small
but numerous waterfalls, which make the first half of its course

fM^

■Wi

jgfc'tS

til , .m\

iiM

;

440

BLACK MOURTAIK.

exceed&gly romantic, may be enjoyed the finest of tront
fishing.

To describe the appearance of our party as we descended the
Swannanoah, through the mud and rain, were quite impossible
without employing a military phrase. We looked more like a
party of " used up" cavaliers, returning from an unfortunate
siege, than one in pursuit of pleasure ; and in spite of our
efforts to be cheerful, a few of our faces were lengthened to an
uncommon degree. Some of our company were decided charac-
ters, and a variety of professions were represented. Our cap-
tain was a banker, highly intelligent, and rode a superb horse;
our second captain was a Lambert-like gentleman, with scarlet
Mexican cloak : we had an fflitor with us, whose principal ap-
pendage was a long pipe ; there was also a young physician,
wrapped up in a blue blanket; also a young graduate, en-
veloped in a Spanish cloak, and riding a beautiful pony ; also
an artist, and then a farmer or two ; also a merchant ; and
last of all came the deponent, with an immense plaid blanket
wrapped round his body, and a htfge pair of boots hanging
from his legs, whose romantic appearance was somewhat en-
hanced by the fact that his horse was the ugliest in the country.
Long before reaching our place of destination, a freshet came
pouring down the bed of the Swannanoah, and, as we had to
ford it at least twenty times, we met ^ith a variety of mishaps,
which were particularly amusing. The most unique incident,
however, was as follows : The party having crossed a certain
ford, a motion was made that we should wait and see that old
Drymond made the passage in safety. We did so, and spent
about one hour on the margin of the stream, in a most impa-
tient mood, for the old man travelled very slowly, and the
clouds were pouring down the rain most abundantly. And
what greatly added to our discomfort was the fact, that oor
horses got into a cluster of nettles, which made them almost
unmanageable. In due time the negro made his appearance,
and plunged into the stream. Hardly had be reached the
middle, before his horse became unruly, and having broken
entirely loose from the wagon, disappeared down the stream,

BLACK MOUNTAIN.

441

leaving the vehicle in a most dangerous position, near the centre
thereof, with a tremendous torrent Ashing on either side, and
the poor negro in the attitude of despair. He was indeed al-
most frightened to death ; but his woe-begone appearance was
80 comical, that in spite of his real danger, and the prayer he
offered, tho whole party burst into a roar of laughter. One re-
mark made by the negro was this : " Massa, dis is de last o'
poor old Drymond — his time's come." But it so happened
that our old friend was rescued from a watery grave : but I am
compelled to state that our provisions, which were now trami-
ferred, with old Drymond, on the b£icl< of the horse, were
greatly damaged, and we resumed our journey, with our spirits
at a much lower ebb than the stream which had caused the
mishap.

Wd arrived at a vacant cabin on the mountain, our place of
destination, about noon, when the weather became clear, and
our drooping spirits were revived. The cabin stood on the
margin of the Swannanoah, and was completely hemmed in by
immense forest trees. Our first movement was to fasten and
feed the horses ; and having satisfied our own appetites with a
cold lunch, a portion of the company went a fishing, while the
remainder secured the services of the hunter Burnet, and some
half dozen of his hounds, and endeavored to kill a deer. At
the sunset hour the anglers returned with a lot of two or three
hundred trout, and the hunters with a handsome doe. With
this abundant supply of forest delicacies, and a few " knick-
knacks" that we had brought with us, we managed to get up a
supper of the first water, but each man was his own cook, and
our fingers and hands were employed in the place of knives and
plates. While this interesting business was going on we dis-
patched Burnet after a fiddler, who occupied a cabin near his
own, and when the musical gentleman made his appearance, we
were ready for the " evening's entertainment."

We devoted two hours to a series of fantastic dances, and
when we became tired of this portion of tho frolic, we spent an
hour or so in singing songs, and wound up the evening by tell-
ing stories. Of the hundred and one that were related, only two

■••-iJ

-4

i! '*^'-!.

»•"'"

^:l ■'•i-m

442

BLACK MOUNTAIN.

were at all connected «rith the Black Mountain ; but as these
were Indian legends, and* gathered from different sources, by
the gentlemen present, I will preserve them in this letterfor
the edification of those interested in. such matters. On the
north side of Black Mountain there was once a cave, where all
the animals in the world were closely confined; and before
that time they had never been known to roam over the moun-
tains as they do now. All these animals were in the keeping
of an old Cherokee chief. This man, who had a mischievous
son, often came home with a fine bear or deer, but would never
tell his son or any other person where he found so much valu-
able game. The son did not like this, and on one occasion
when his father went out after food he hid himself Among the
trees, and watched his movements. He saw the old man go to
the cave, already mentioned, and, as he pushed away a big
stone, out ran a fine buck, which he killed with an arrow, and
then rolled back the stone. When the old man was gone home
with Idd deer, the boy went to the cave, and thought that he
would try his luck in killing game. He rolled away the stone,
when out jumped a wolf, which so frightened him that he forgot
to replace the stone, and, before he knew what he was about,
all the animals made their escape, and were fleeing down the
mountain in every possible direction. They made a dreadful
noise for a while, but finally came together in pairs,, and so
have continued to multiply down to the present time. When
the father found out what the foolishness of his son had accom-
plished, he became very unhappy, and in less than a week he
disappeared, and was never heard of again. The boy also be-
came very unhappy, and spent many days in trying to find his
father, but it was all in vain. As a last resort ho tried an old
Indian experiment which consisted in shooting arrows, to find
out in which direction the old man had gone. The boy fired
an arrow towards the north, but it returned and fell at his feet,
and he knew that his father had not travelled in that direction.
He also fired one towards *he east and the south and the west,
but they all came back in the same manner. Ho then thought
that he would fire one directly above his head, and it so hap-

BLACK MOUNTAIN.

448

'f^^>l

ffr-i"*.

pened that this arrow never returned, and so the boy knew
that bis father had gone to the spirit land. The Great Spirit
was angry with the Cherokee nation, and to punish it for the
offenc^of the foolish boy he tore away the cave from tb^ side
of the Black Mountain, and left only a large cliff in its place,
which is now a conspicuous feature ; and he then declared that
the time would come when another race of men should possess
the mountains where the Cherokees had flourished for many
generations.

Another legend was as follows : Once, in the olden times,
when the animals of the earth had the power of speech, a red
deer and a terrapin met on the Black Mountain. The deer
ridiculed the terrapin, boasted of his own fleetness, and proposed
that the twain should run a race. The creeping animal as-
sented to the proposition. The race was to extend from the
Black Mountain to the summit of the third pinnacle extending
to the eastward. The day was then fixed, and the animals se-
parated. During the intervening time the cunning terrapin
secured the services of three of its fellows resembling itself in
appearance, and having given them particular directions, sta-
tioned them upon the several peaks over which the race was to
take place. The appointed day arrived, and the deer, as well
as the first mentioned terrapin, were faithfully on the ground.
All things being ready, the word was given, and away started
the doer at a break-neck speed. Just as ho. reached the sum-
mit of the first hill he heard the shout of a terrapin, and as he
supposed it to bo his antagonist, he was greatly perplexed, but
continued on his course. On reaching the top of the second
hill, he heard another shout of defiance, and was more aston-
ished than ever, but onward still did he continue. Just before
reaching the summit of the third hill, the deer heard what he
supposed to be the same shout, and he gave up the race in des-
pair. On returning to the starting-place, he found his anta-
gonist in a calm and collected mood, and, when he demanded
an explanation, the terrapin solved the mystery, and then
begged the deer to remember that mind could sometimes ao-
oomplish what wa||often beyond the reach of the swiftest legs.

':(•

f ■ 1

' .« 'J

444

BLACK MOUNTAIN.

1 "^ \'^'^

With regard to the manner in nrhich our party spent the
night at the foot of Black Mountain, I can only say that we
slept upon the floor, and that our saddles were our only pillows.
The morning of the next 'day we devoted to an unsuAessful
hunt after a bear, and a portion of us having thrown the fly a
sufficient length of time to load old Drymond with trout, we all
started on our return to Ashville, reached the village just as
the sun was sinking behind the western mountains.

.iY;^><h ^

; 1 , • - i. f' .■ ; ; I > '111!

,;'ii-,;\^ (^'yt(^'":'h.:

',' ■ '^t- /i'''i^ ' ::,s\<' hixK ,f^>vi'«-ti:

>;!

THE CATAWBA COUNTRY.

B.t ....

V. Wf'''

I NOW write from a log cabin situated on the Catawba river,
and in one of the most beautiful of valleys. My ride from
Ashville to Burnsville, a distance of over forty miles, was unat<
tended by a single interesting incident, and afforded only one
mountain prospect that caused me to rein in my horse. But
the prospect alluded to embraced the entire outline of Bald
Mountain, which, being one of the loftiest in this section of
country, and particularly barren, presented a magnificent ap>
pearance. On the extreme summit of this mountain is a very
large and an intensely cold spring of water, and in its immedi-
ate vicinity a small cave and the ruins of a log cabin, which are
associated with a singular being named David Greer, who once
made this upper world his home. He first appeared in thia
country about fifty years ago ; his native land, the story of his
birth, and his early history, were alike unknown. Soon after
his arrival among the mountains, he fell desperately in love
with the daughter of a farmer, but his suit was rejected by the
maiden, and strenuously opposed by all her friends. Soon
after this disappointment the lover suddenly disappeared, and
was subsequently found residing on Bald Mountain in the cave
already mentioned. Hero ho lived the life of a literary recluse,
and is said to have written a singular work upon religion, and
another which purported to bo a treatise on human government.
In the latter production he proulaimed himself the sole proprie-
tor of Bald Mountain, and made it known to the world that all
who should ever become his neighbors must abmit to the laws
he had himself enacted. The prominent actions of his life

MS'- Xi

.)*«.<•;

■I;.

*-'"l

446

THE CATAWBA COUNTRY.

were " few and far between," but particularly infamous. The
first that brought him into notice was as follows : A few years
after it was ascertained that he had taken possession of this
■mountain, the authorities of the county sent a messenger to ■
Greer, and demanded a poll-tax of seventy-five cents. The
hermit said he would attend to it on the next court-day, and
his word was accepted. On the day in question, Greer punc-
tually made his appearance, but, instead of paying over the
money, he pelted the windows of the court-house with stones,
and drove the judges, lawyers, and clients all out of the village,
and then, with a rifle in hand, returned to his mountain dwell-
ling. For some months, after this event he amused himself by
mutilating all the cattle which he happened to discover on what
he called his domain, and it is said was in the *habit of trying
the power of his rifle by shooting down upon the plantations of
his neighbors. The crowning event of David Greer's life, howe-
ver, consisted in his shooting to the ground in cold blood, and
in the broad daylight, a man named Iliggins. The only excuse
that he ofiered for committing this murder was that the de-
ceased had been found hunting for deer on that portion of land
which he claimed as his own. For this ofteuce Greer was
brought to trial and acquitted on the ground of insanity. When
this decision was made known, the criminal was greatly enraged,
and, when released, started for his cabin, muttering loud and
deep curses against the injustice of the laws. In process of
time anumbe^of attempts were made to take his life, and it was
a common occurrence with him to be awakened at midnight by
a ball passing through the door of his cabin. After living upon
the mountain for a period of twenty years, ho finally concluded
to abandon his solitary life, and took up his abode in one of the
settlements on the Tennessee side of Bald Mountain. Hero,
for a year or two, he worked regularly in an iron forge, but
having had a dispute with a fellow-workman, swore that he
would shoot him within five hours, and started after his rifle.
Tho offf^ding party was named Tompkins, and after consulting
with his friends as to what course he ought to pursue, in view
of the uttered* threat, he was advised to take the law in his

THE CATAWBA COUNffRT.

447

0, in view

own hands. He took this advice, and, as David Greer was
discovered walking along the road with rifle in hand, Tompkins
shot him through the heart, and the hurial-place of the hermit
is now unknown. Public opinion was on the side of Tompkins,
and he was never summoned to account for the defensive mur-
der he had committed.

In coming from Burnsville to this place, I enjoyed two moun-
tain landscapes, which were supremely beautiful and imposing.
The first was a northern view of Black Mountain from the mar-
gin of the South Toe river, and all its cliffs, defiles, ravines,
and peaks seemed as light, dreamlike, and airy as the clear
blue world in which they floated. The stupendous pile ap-
peared tc have risen from the earth with all its glories in their
prime, as if to join the newly-risen b«.i Ii» ItS passage across the
licavcns. The middle distance of the landscape was composed
of two wood-crowned hills which stood before me like a pair of
loving brothers, and then came a luxuriant meadow, where a
noble horse was quietly cropping his food ; while the immediate
foreground of the picture consisted of a marvellously beautiful
stream, which glided swiftly by, over a bed of golden and scar-
let pebbles. The only sounds that fell upon my ear, as I gazed
upon this scene, were the murmurings of a distant water-fall,
\nd the- hum of insect wings.

The other prospect that I witnessed was from the summit of
the Blue Ridge, looking in the direction of the Catawba. It
was a wilderness of mountains, whoso foundations .gjuM not be
fathomed by the eye, while in the distance, towering above all
the peaks, rose the singular and fantastic form of the Table
Mountain. Not a sign of the breathing human world could be
seen in any direction, and the only living creature which ap-
peared to my view was a solitary eagle, wheeling to and fro far
up towards the zenith of tho sky.

From the top of the Blue Ridge I descended a winding ra-
vine four miles in length, whore the road, even at mid-day, is
in a deep shadow, and then I emerged into the North Cove.
This charming valley is twelve miles long, from a half to a
whole mile in width, completely surrounded with mountains,

*'■ 'il. ' "-li

■v,. ■

.„ .,:; f.

iMl<«i|

'"N !v

a--'

4--

■ ■ ' s •■Z.A

I — -— ~sa

'■■•'?■■ lit:'

-' /mi]

448

THE .CATAWBA COUNTRY.

highly cultivated, watered by the Catawba, and inhabited by
intelligent and worthy farmers. At a certain house where I
tarried to dine on my way up the valley, I was treated in a
manner that would have put to the blush people of far greater
pretentions ; and what made a deep impression on my mind,
was the fact that I was waited upon by two sisters, about ten
years of age, who were remarkably beautiful and sprightly.
One of them had flaxen hair and blue eyes, and the other deep
black hair and eyes. Familiar as I had been for weeks past
with the puny and ungainly inhabitants of the mountain tops,
these two human flowers filled my heart with a delightful sen-
sation. May the lives of those two darlings be as peaceful and
beautiful as the stream upon which they live ! The prominent
pictorial feature of the North Cove is of a mountain called the
Hawk* 8 Bill, on account of its resemblance to the beak of a mam-
moth bird, the length of the bill being about fifteen hundred feet.
It is visible from every part of the valley, and to my fancy is
a more picturesque object than the Table Mountain, which is
too regular at the sides and top to satisfy the eye. The table
part of this mountain, however, is twenty-five hundred feet
high, and therefore worthy of its fame.

The cabin where I am stopping at the present time is located
at the extreme upper end of the North Cove. It is the resi-
dence of the best guide in the country, and the most convenient
lodging place for those who would visit the Hawk's Bill and
Table Mountains, already mentioned, as well as the Lindville
Pinnacle, the Catawba Cave, the Cake Mountain, the Lindville
Falls, and the Roan Mountain.

The Lindville Pinnacle is a mountain peak, surmounted by
a pile of rocks, upon which you may recline at your ease, and
look down upon a complete series of rare and gorgeous scenes.
On one side is a precipice which seems to descend to the very
bowels of the earth ; in another direction you have a full view
of Short-off Mountain, only about a mile oif, which is a per-
pendicular precipice several thousand feet high, and the abrupt
termination of a long range of mountains ; in another direc-
tion still the eye falls upon a brotherhood of mountain peaks

THE CATAWBA COUNTBY.

449

which are particularly ragged and fantastic in their formation
— now shooting forward, as if to look down into the valleys,
and now looming to the sky, as if to pierce it with their pointed
summits ; and in another direction you look across what seems
to be a valley from eighty to a hundred miles wide, which is
bounded by a range of mountains that seem to sweep across the
world as with triumphal march.

The Catawba Cave, situated on the Catawba river, is entered
by a fissure near the base of a mountain, and is reputed to be
one mile in length. - It has a great variety of chambers, which
vary in height from six to twenty feet ; its walls are chiefly
composed of a porous limestone, through which the water is
continually dripping ; and along the entire length flows a cold
and clear stream, which varies from five to fifteen inches in
depth. The cave is indeed a curious affair, though the trouble
and fatigue attending a thorough explorntion far outweigh the
satisfaction which it affords. But there is one arm of the cave
which has never been explored, and an admirable opportunity
is therefore offiered for the adventurous to make themselves fa-
mous by revealing some of the hidden wonders of nature.

The Q-inger Cake Mountain derives its very poetical name
from a singular pile of rocks occupying its extreme summit.
The pile is composed of two masses of rock of different mate-
rials and form, which are so arranged as to stand on a remark-
ably small base. The lower section is composed of a rough
slate stone, and its form is that of an inverted pyramid ; but
the upper section of the pile consists of an oblong slab of solid
granite, which surmounts the lower section in a horizontil po-
sition, presenting the appearance of a work of art. The lower
section is thirty feet in altitude, while the upper one is thirty-
two feet in length, eighteen in breadth, and nearly two feet in
thickness. The appearance of this rocky wonder is exceed-
ingly tottering, and though we may be assured that it has stood
upon that eminence perhaps for a thousand years, yet it is im-
possible to tarry within its shadow without a feeling of inse-
curity. The individual who gave the Ginger Cake Mountain
its outlandish name was a hermit named Watson, who resided
29

vmu

^ft'il

*!<.«

450

TBE CATAWBA COUNDRT.

at the foot of the mountain about fifty years ago, but who died
in 1816. He lived in a small cabin, and entirely alone. His
history was a mystery to every one but himself, and, though
remarkably eccentric ho was noted for his amiability. He had
given up the world, like his brother hermit of the Bald Morn-
tain, on account of a disappointment in love, and the utter
contempt which he ever afterwards manifested for the gentler
sex, was one of his most singular traits of character. When-
ever a party of ladies paid him a visit, which was frequently
the case, he invariably treated them politely, but would never
apeak to them; he even went so far in expressing his dislike as
to consume for firewood, after the ladies were gone, the top-
most rail of his yard-fence, over which they had been compelled
to pass, on their way into his cabin. That old Watson " fared
sumptuously every day" could not be denied, but whence came
the money that supported him no one could divine. He sel-
dom molested the wild animals of the mountain where he lived,
and his chief employments seemed to be the raising of pea-
cocks, and the making of garments for his own use, which were
all elegantly trimmed off with the feathers of his favorite bird.
The feathery suit in which he kept himself constantly arrayed
he designated as his culgee; the meaning of which word could
never be ascertained ; and long after the deluded being had
passed away from among the living, he was spoken of as Culgee
Watson, and is so remembered to this day.

I come now to speak of the Lindville Falls, which are situa-
ted on the Lindville river, a tributary of the beautiful Catawba.
They are literally embosomed among mountains, and long be-
fore seeing them do you hear their musical roar. The scenery
about them is as wild as it was a hundred years ago^not even
a pathway has yet been made to guide the tourist into the stu-
pendous gorge where they reign supreme. At the point in
question the Lindville is about one hundred and fifty feet
broad, and though its waters have come down their parent
mountains at a most furious speed, they here make a more desper-
ate plunge than they ever dared to attempt before, when they find
themselves in a deep pool and suddenly hemmed in by a barrier

'^:'%

THE CATAWBA COUNTRY.

451

of gray granite, which crosses the entire hed of the river. In
their desperation, however, they Cually work a passage through
the solid rock, and after filling another hollow with foam, they
make a desperate leap of at least one hundred feet, and find a
renjting place in an immense pool, which one might easily ima-
gine to be bottomless. And then, as if attracted by the aston-
ishing feats performed by the waters, a number of lofty and
exceedingly fantastic cliffs have gathered themselves together
in the immediate neighborhood, and are ever peering over each
other's shoulders into the depths below. But as the eye wan-
ders from the surrounding cliffs, it falls upon an isolated col-
umn several hundred feet high, around which are clustered in
the greatest profusion the most beautiful of vines and flowers.
This column occupies a conspicuous position a short distance
below the Falls, and it were an easy matter to imagine it a
monument erected by Nature to celebrate her own creative
power.

With a liberal hand, indeed, has she planted her forest trees
in every imaginable place ; but with a view of even surpassing
herself, she has filled the gorge with a variety of caverns, which
astonish the beholder, and almost cause him to dread an attack
from a brotherhood of spirits. But how futile is my effort to
give an adequate idea of the Lindville Falls and their sur-
rounding attractions ! When I attempted to sketch them I
threw away my pencil in despair ; and I now feel that I should
be doing my pen a kindness, if I were to consume what I
have written. I will give this paragraph to the world, how-
ever, trusting that those who may hereafter visit the Lindville
Falls, will award to me a little credit for my will if not for my
deed.

To be in keeping with my wayward wanderings in this Alpine
wilderness, it now becomes my duty to speak of the Hoan
Mountain and the Grand Father. By actual measurement
the former is only seventy feet lower than the Black Mountain,
and consequently measures well nigh to seven thousand feet.
It derives its name from the circumstance that it is often cover-
ed with snow, and at such times is of a roan color. It lies in

='%y

fM»||

< Jim I

iff

452

THB CATAWBA COUNTHT.

the States of North Carolina and Tennessee, and has three
prominent peaks, which are all entirely destitute of trees. The
highest of them has a clearing containing several thonsand
acres, and the cattle and horses of the surrounding farmers
resort to it in immense numbers, for the purpose of feeding
upon the fine and luxuriant grass which grows there in great
abundance. The ascent to the top of this peak is gradual from
all directions except one ; but on the north it is quite perpendi-
cular, and to one standing near the brow of the mighty cliff
the scene is exceedingly imposing and fearful. That it com-
mands an uninterrupted view of what appears to be the entire
world, may be readily imagined. When I was there I observed
no less than three thunder storms performing their uproarious
feats in three several valleys, while the remaining portions of
the lower world were enjoying a deep blue atmosphere. In
visiting Roan Mountain you have to travel on horseback, and,
by starting at the break of day, you may spend two hours on
the highest peak, and be home again on the same evening about
the sunset hour.

In accounting for the baldness which characterizes the Roan
Mountain, the Catawba Indians relate the following tradition :
There was once a time when all the nations of the earth were
at war with the Catawbas, and had proclaimed their determina-
tion to conquer and possess their country. On hearing this
intelligence the Catawbas became greatly enraged, and sent a
challenge to all their enemies, and dared them to a fight on the
«ummit of the Roan. The challenge was accepted, and no less
than three famous battles were fought — ^the streams of the en-
tire land were red with blood, a number of tribes became ex-
tinct, and the Catawbas carried the day. Whereupon it was
that the Great Spirit caused the forests to wither from the three
peaks of the Roan Mountain where the battles were fought ;
and wherefore it is that the flowers which grow upon this moun-
tain are chiefly of a crimson hue, for they are nourished by the
blood of the slain.

One of the finest views from the Roan Mountain is that of
the Grand Father, which is said to be altogether the wildest

^^■*;3i

THB CATAWBA COUNTBT.

45S

and most fantastic mountain in the whole AUeghanj range. It
is reputed to he 5,600 feet high, and particularly famous for
its hlack bears and other large game. Its principal human in-
habitants, par excellence, for the last twenty years, have been
a man named Jim Riddle, and his loving spouse, whose cabin
was near its summit. A more successful hunter than Jim
never scaled a precipice ; and th^ stories related of him would
fill a volume. One of them that I now remember, is briefly as
follows : —

He was out upon a hunting expedition, and having come to
one of his bear traps, (made of logs, weighing about a thousand
poimds, and set with a kind of figure four,) the bait of which
happened to be misplaced, he thoughtlessly laid down his gun,
and went under the trap to arrange the bait. In doing this,
he handled the bait hook a little too roughly, and was conse-
quently caught in the place of a bear. He chanced to have a
small hatchet in his belt, with which, under every disadvantage,
he succeeded in cutting his way out. He was one day and one
night in doing this, however, and his narrow escape caused him
to abandon the habit of swearing, and become a religious man.

To the comprehension of Jim Riddle, the Grand Father was
the highest mountain in the world. He used to say that he had
read of the Andes, but did not believe that they were half as
high as the mountain on which he lived. His reason for this
opinion was, that when a man stood on the top of the Grand
Father, it was perfectly obvious that *' all the other mountaiiM
in the world lay rolling from it, even to the sky."

Jim Riddle is said to have been a remarkably certain marks-
man ; and one of his favorite pastimes, in the winter, was to
shoot at snow-balls. On these occasions, his loving wife,
Betsey, was always by his side, to laugh at him when he missed
his mark, and to applaud when successful. And it is reported
of them, that they were sometimes in the habit of spending
entire days in this elevated recreation. But enough ; Jim Riddle
is now an altered man. His cabin has long since been abandoned,
and he has become a travelling preacher, and is universally
respected for his amiability, and matter-of-fact intelligence.

-'^J

'<r

1".

li*"'

:r--!sa

./^l

■^■-.,.1

464

THE CATAWBA COUNTRY.

In a valley lying between the Roan and Grand Father moun-
tains, I first heard the Mocking Bird singing at night. He
awakened me out of a deep sleep, while perched upon a tree
overhanging the cabin where I was spending the night. His
lower notes were sweeter than any instrument I ever heard,
but inexpressibly mournful, and as unlike the singing of a caged
bird as possible. I was tol^ that they were found in great
numbers among the Alleghanies, and that when the hunters
hear them sing at night, they know that the moon is about to
rise, and therefore prepare for their nocturnal expeditions after
game. This charming bird is universally beloved by the inha-
bitants of this region, and I never see it in ils native wood,
without being reminded of that most gifted of human minstrels,
who penned the words, so appropriate to the Mocking Bird, —
" Hope of the wilderness— joy of the free."

THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR PEOPLE.

i ■']

The prominent circumstance attending my journey from the
North Gove to Elizabethton, in Tennessee, was, that it took me
out of the great mountain wilderness of Georgia and North
Carolina into a well-cultivated and more level country. For
two months past have I spent my days on horseback, and the
majority of my nights in the rudest of cabins ; and as I am now
to continue my journey in a stage-coach, it is meet that I should
indite a general letter, descriptive of the region through which
I have passed. In coming from Dahlonega to this place, I have
travelled in a zig-zag course upwards of four hundred miles, but
the intervening distance, in a direct line, would not measure
more than two hundred. The entire country is mountainous,
and for the most part remains in its original state of nature.
To the botanist and geologist, this section of the Union is un-
questionably the most interesting eastward of the Mississippi,
for we have here nearly every variety of forest trees known in
the land, as well as plants and flowers in the greatest abun-
dance, while the mountains, which are of a primitive formation,
abound in every known variety of minerals. That the scenery
of this region is highly interesting, I hope my readers have
already been convinced. More beautiful streams can nowhere
be found on the face of the earth. But when we come to speak
of lake scenery, the South must yield the palm to the North.
Not a single sheet of water deserving the name of lake have I
yet seen in this Southern land, and yet every mountain seems
to be well supplied with the largest and coldest of springs. I
^now not but this fact has been explained by our scientific men,
out to me it is indeed a striking peculiarity. The valleys, too.

-•%i,

456

THK MOUNTAINS AND THEIR PEOPLE.

of tbis region, are remarkably narrow, and the majority of them
might with more propriety be called immense ravines. The
skies, however, which canopy this Alpine land, appeared to me
to be particularly blue, and as to the clouds which gather
around the mountains at the sunset hour, they are gorgeous
beyond compare. ■■ -- % j. tj.

With regard to climate, I know of no section of country that
can be compared with the highlands of Georgia and North
Carolina. It is but seldom that a foot of snow covers the earth
even in the severest winters ; and, though the days of midsummer
are very warm, they are seldom sultry, and the nights are invari-
ably su£Sciently cool to make one or two blankets comfortable.
Fevers and other diseases, peculiar to the sea-side of the AUe-
ghanies, are hardly known among their inhabitants, and hereto-
fore the majority of the people have died of old age. I would
not intimate that they are afflicted with an epidemic at the
present time, but I do say there are many household? in this
region, which have been rendered very desolate by the Mexican
war. When our kingly President commanded the American
people to leave the plough in the furrow and invade a neigh-
boring republic, the mountaineers of Georgia and the Carolinas
poured down into the valley almost without bidding their mo-
thers and wives and sisters a final adieu ; and the bones of at
least one half of these brave men are now mouldering away on
the desert sands of the far South.

Generally speaking, the soil of this country is fertile, yield-
ing the best of corn, potatoes, and rye, but only an average
quality of wheat, on account of the late frosts. In some of the
more extensive valleys, the apple and the peach arrive at per-
fection ; and while the former are manufactured into cider, out
of the latter the mountaineers make a very palatable brandy.
The principle revenue of the people, however, is derived from
the business of raising cattle, which is practised to a consider-
able extents The mountain ranges afford an abundance of the
sweetest grazing food, and all that the farmer has to do in the
autumn is to hunt up his stock, which have now become exces-
sively fat, and di">e them to the Charleston or Baltimore mar-

THE MOUNTAIKS AND THEIR PEOPLE.

467

ket. The onlj drawback to this business consists in the fact
that the cattle in certain sections of the country are subject to
vrhat is called the milk sickness. This disease is supposed to
be caused by a poisonous dew which gathers on the grass, and
is said not only to have destroyed a great many cattle in other
years, but frequently caused the death of entire families who
may have partaken of the unwholesome milk. It is a dreaded
disease, and principally fatal in the autumn. From the fore*
going remarks it will be seen that a mountain farmer may be
an agriculturist, and yet have an abundance of time to follow
any other employment that he has a passion for ; and the re-
sult of this fact is, that he is generally a faithful disciple of the
immortal Nimrod.

All the cabins that I have visited have been ornamented by
at least one gun, and more than one-half of the inhabitants
have usually been hounds. That the mountaineers are poor, is
a matter of course, and the majority of their cabins are cheer-
less places indeed to harbor the human frame for life ; but the
people are distinguished for their hospitality, and always place
before the stranger the choicest of their store. Bacon, game,
and milk are their staple articles of food, and honey is their
principal luxury. In religion, generally speaking, they are
Methodists and Baptists, and are distinguished for their sobriety.
They have but few opportunities of hearing good preaching,
but I have never entered more than three or four cabins where
I did not see a copy of the Bible. The limited knowledge they
possess has come to them directly from Heaven as it were, and,
from the necessity of the case, their children are growing up
in the most deplorable ignorance. Whenever one of these poor
families happened to learn from my conversation that I y«- a
resident of New York, the interest with which they gazed upon
me, and listened to my every word, was both agreeable and
painful. It made me happy to communicate what little I hap-
pened to know, but pained me to think upon their isolated and
uncultivated manner of life. Give me the wilderness for a day
or month, but for life I must be amid the haunts of refinement
and civilization. As to the slave population of the mountain

^^x;

iii'N

KKd,

"'%i,

^*l;

tt,J

»itt

458

THB MOUNTAINS AND THBIB PEOPLK.

fr*.."

-cm

districts, it is so limited that I can hardly express an opinion
vrith regard to their condition. Not more than one white man
in ten (perhaps I ought to say twenty) is sufficiently wealthy to
support a slave, and those who do possess them are in the habit
of treating them as intelligent beings, and in the most kindly
manner. As I have found it to be the case on the seaboard,
the slaves residing among the mountains are the happiest and
most independent portion of the population ; and I have had
many a one pilot me over the mountains who would not have
exchanged places even with his master. They have a comfort-
able house and no debts to pay : every thing they need in the
way of clothing and wholesome food is ever at their command,
and they have free access to the churches and the Sunday
schools of the land. What more do the poor of any country
possess that can add to their temporal happiness ?

Another, and of course the most limited portion of the popu-
lation occupying this mountain country, is what might be called
the aristocracy or gentry. Generally speaking, they are de-
scended from the best families, and moderately wealthy. They
are fond of good living, and their chief business is to make
themselves as comfortable as possible. They esteem solid en-
joyment more than display, and are far more intelligent (so far
as books and the world are concerned) than the same class of
people at the North. The majority of Southern gentlemen, I
believe, would be glad to see the institution of slavery abolished,
if it could be brought about without reducing them to beggary.
But they hate a political Abolitionist as they do the very —
Father of Lies; and for this want of affection I dq not see
that they deserve to be blamed. The height of a Southern
man's ambition is to be a gentleman in every particular — in
word, thought, and deed ; and to be a perfect gentleman, in
my opinion, is to be a Christian. And with regard to the
much-talked -of hospitality of the wealthier classes in the South,
I can only say that my own experience ought to make me very
eloquent in their praise. Not only does the genuine feeling
exist here, but a Southern gentleman gives such expression to
his feeling by his home-like treatment of you, that to be truly

THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR PEOPLE.

469

hospitable you might imagine had been the principal study of
his life.

But the music of the " mellow born" is ringing in my ear^
and in an hour from this time I shall have thrown myself into
a stage-coach, and be on my way up the long and broad valley
of Virginia.

■■•■" «>**

1^-

iryt^l

l::iz

':;,>*«
U""^

THE NAMELESS VALLEY.

■■/ 'I

Since my last letter was written, my course of travel has
led me towards the fountain-head of the Holston river, whose
broad and highly cultivated valley is bounded on the northwest
by the Clinch Mountains, and on the southeast by the Iron
Mountains. The agricultural and mineral advantages of the
valley are manifold, and the towns and farms scattered along
the stage-road all present a thriving and agreeable appearance.
Along the bod of the Holston, agates and cornelians are found
in considerable abundance ; and though the scenery of its
valley is merely beautiful, I know of no district in the world
where caves and caverns are found in such great numbers. A
zigzag tour along this valley alone will take the traveller to at
least one dozen caves, many of which are said to be remark-
ably interesting. From my own observation, however, I know
nothing about them ; and so long as I retain my passion for
the revealed productions of nature, I will leave the hidden ones
to take care of themselves.

On reaching the pleasant little village of Abingdon, in Wash-
ington county, a friend informed me that I must not fail to
visit the salt-works of Smythe county. I did so, and the fol-
lowing is my account of Saltville, which is the proper name for
the place in question : Its site was originally a salt-lick, tr*
which immense herds of elk, buffalo, and deer, were in the
habit of resorting ; subsequently, the Indians applied the pri-
vilege to themselves, and then an occasional hunter came here
for his supplies ; but the regular business of transforming the
water into salt did not commence until the year 1790. Salt-

THB NAMELESS VALLET.

461

ville is located at the head of a valley near the base of the
Clinch Mountains, and about one mile from the Holston river.
All the population of the place, numbering perhaps three hun>
dred inhabitants, are engaged in the manufacture of salt. The
water here is said to be the strongest and purest in the world.
When tested by a salometer, graded for saturation at twenty-
five degrees, it ranges from twenty to twenty-two degrees, and
twenty gallons of water will yield one bushol of salt, which
weighs fifty pounds, (and not fifty-six as at the North,) and is
sold at the rate of twenty cents per bushel, or one dollar and
twenty cents per barrel. The water is brought from a depth
of two hundred and twenty feet by means of three artesian
wells, which keep five furnaces or salt-blockf, of eighty-four
kettles each, in constant employment, and produce about two
thousand bushels per day. The water is raised by means of
horse-power, and twenty-five teams are constantly employed in
supplying the furnaces with wood. The salt manufactured
here is acknowledged to be superior in quality to that made on
the Kanawha, in this State, or at Syracuse, in New York, but
the Northern establishments are by far the most extensive.
The section of country supplied from this quarter is chiefly
Tennessee and Alabama ; generally speaking, there is but
one shipment made during the year, which is in the spring,
and by means of flat-boats built expressly for the purpose.
A dozen or two of these boats are always ready for business,
and when the Holston is swollen by a freshet they are loaded
and manned at the earliest possible moment, and away the
singing boatmen go down the wild, winding, and narrow,
but picturesque stream, to their desired havens. The sec-
tion of country supplied by the Kanawha is the northwest
and the extreme south, while Syracuse, Liverpool, and Turk's
Island supply the Atlantic seaboard. The Saltvillo reservoir
.of water seems to be inexhaustible, and it is supposed would
give active employment to at least a dozen new furnaces. As
already stated, the yielding wells are somewhat over two hun-
dred feet deep ; but within a stone's throw of these, other wells
have been sunk to the depth of four, five, and six hundred feet.

:«*,

,;i^«''

-"%i5j

: nil

462

THE NAMELESS VALLEY.

\rithout obtaining a particle of the valuable liquid. The busi-
ness of Saltville is carried on by private enterprise altogether,
and the principal proprietor and director is a gentleman who
comes from that noble stock which has given to this country
such men as Patrick Henry and William H. Preston. I am
at present the guest of this gentleman, and therefore refrain
from giving his name to the public ; but as his plantation is
decidedly the most beautiful that I have seen in the whole
Southern country, I must be permitted to give a particular de-
scription for the edification of my readers.

This heretofore nameless nook of the great world I have
been permitted to designate as The Nameless Valley, and if
I succeed in merely enumerating its charming features and
associations, I feel confident that my letter will be read with
pleasure. It is the centre of a domain comprising eight thou-
sand acres of land, which covers a multitude of hills that are
all thrown in shadow at the sunset hour by the Clinch moun-
tains. The valley in question is one mile by three-quarters of
a mile wide, and comprises exactly three hundred and thirty-
three acres of green meadow land, unbroken by a single fence,
but ornamented by about a dozen isolated trees, composed of
ut least half a dozen varieties, and the valley is watered by a
tiny stream of the clearest water. It is completely surrounded
with cone-like hills, which are nearly all highly cultivated half
way up their sides, but crowned with a diadem of luxuriant
forest trees. A little back of the hills, skirting the western
side of the valley, are the picturesquely broken Clinch Moun-
tains, whose every outline, and cliff, and fissure, and ravine,
may be distinctly seen from the opposite side of the valley,
where the spacious and tastefully porticoed mansion of the
proprietor is located. Clustering immediately around this
dwelling, but not so as as to interrupt the view, are a number
of very large willows, poplars, and elms, while the enclosed
slope upon which it stands is covered with luxuriant grass, here
and there enlivened by a stack of roses and other flowers. The
numerous out houses of the plantation are a little back of the
main building, and consist of neatly painted cabins, occupied

THE NAMELESS VALLEY.

468

by the negroes belonging to the estate, and numbering about
one hundred souls ; then come the stables, where no less than
seventy-five horses are daily supplied with lood; then we have
a pasture on the hill side, where thirty or forty cows nightly
congregate to be milked, and give suck to their calves; and
then we have a mammoth spring, whose waters issue out of the
mountain, making only about a dozen leaps, throwing themselves
upon the huge wheel of an old mill, causing it to sing a kind of
circling song from earliest dawn to the twilight hour. In look-
ing to the westward from the spacious porticoes of the mansion,
the eye falls upon only two objects which are at all calculated
to destroy the natural solitude of the place, viz., a road which
passes directly by the house at the foot of the lawn, and one
small white cottage situated at the base of a hill on the opposite
side of the valley. Instead of detracting from the scene,
however, these objects actually make it more interesting, when
the facts are remembered that in that cottage did the proprietor
of this great estate first see the light, and that by its side are
deposited the remains of five generations of his ancestors ; and
as to the road, the people wlio travel it all appear and move
along ju.at exactly as a poet or painter would desire.

But to give my readers a more graphic idea of this truly
delightful valley, I will enumerate the living pictures which
attracted my attention from the book I was attempting to read
on a single afternoon. I was in a commanding corner of the
porch, and had closed the volume just as the sun was sinking
behind the mountains, llie sky was of a soft silvery hue, and
almost cloudless, and the entire landscape was bathed in an
exquisitely soft and delightful atmosphere. Not a breeze was
stirring in the valley, and the cool shadows of the trees were
twice as long as the trees themselves. The first noise that
broke the silence of the scene was a slow thumping and creak
ing sound away down the road, and on casting my eyes in that
direction I discovered a large wain, or covered wagon, drawn
by seven horses and driven by a man who amused himself o.s
he lazily moved along, by snapping his whip at the harmless
plants by the road-side. I know not whence he came or whither

i-r'fi-^ij

464

THE NAMELESS VALLEY.

V:5

he was going, but twenty minutes must have flown before he
passed out of my view. At one dme a flood of discord came
to my ear from one of the huge poplars in the yard, and I
could see that there was a terrible dispute going on between a
lot of resident and stranger blackbirds; and, after they had
ceased their noise, I could hear the chirping of the swallows, as
they swooped after the insects, floating in the sunbeams, far
away over the green valley. And now I heard a laugh and the
sound of talking voices, and lo ! a party of ten negroes, who
were returning from the fields where they had been cutting hay
or hoeing corn. The neighing and stamping of a steed now
attracted my attention, and I saw a superb blood horse attempt-
ing to get away from a negn; groom, who was leading him
along the road. The mellow tinkling of a bell and the lowing
of cattle now came trembling on the air, and presently, a herd
of cows made their appearance, returning home from the far
off hills with udders brimming full, and kicking up a dust as
they lounged along. Now the sun dropped behind the hills,
and one solitary night-hawk shot high up into the air, as if he
had gone to welcome the evening star, which presently made
its appearance from its blue watchtower ; and, finally, a dozen
women came trooping from the cow-yard into the dairy house,
with well-filled milk-pails on their heads, and looking like a
troop of Egyptian water damsels. And then for one lung hour
did the spirits of repose and twilight have complete possession
of the valley, and no sound fell upon my ear but the hum of
insect wings.

But I was intending to mention the curiosities of the Name-
less Valley. Foremost among these I would rank a small cave,
on the south side, in which are deposited a curious collection of
human bones. Many of them are very large, while others,
which were evidently full-grown are exceedingly small. Among
the female skulls, I noticed one of a female that seemed to be
perfectly beautiful, but small enough to have belonged to a
child. The most curious specimen, however, found in this cave,
is the skull of a man. It is entirely without a forehead, very
narrow across the eyes, full and regularly rounded behind, and

THE NAMBLBSS VALLEY.

465

from the lower part of the ears are two bony projections, nearly
two inches in length, which must have presented a truly terri-
ble appearance when covered with flesh. The animal organs
of this scull are remarkably full, and it is also greatly deficient
in all the intellectual faculties. Another curiosity found in
this valley is a bed of plaster which lies in the immediate vici-
nity of a bed of slate, with li granite and limestone strata only
a short distance off, the whole constituting a geological conglo-
meration that I never heard of before. But what is still more
remarkable is the fact, that within this plaster bed were found
the remains of an unknown animal, which must have been mam-
moth indeed. A grinder tooth belonging to this monster I have
seen and examined. It has a blackish appearance, measures
about ten inches in length, weighs about four pounds and a
half, and was found only three feet from the surface. This
tooth, as well as the scull already mentioned, were discovered
by the proprietor of the valley, and, I am glad to learn, are
about to be deposited by him in the National Museum at Wash-
ington. But another attractive feature in the Nameless Valley
consists of a kind of Indian Herculaneum, where, deeply im-
bedded in sand and clay, are the remains of a town, whence
have been brought to light a great variety of earthen vessels
and curious utensils. Upon this spot, also, many shells have
been found, which are said never to have been seen excepting
on the shore of the Pacific. But all these things should be
described by the antiquarian, and I only mention them for the
purpose of letting the world know that there is literally no end
to the wonders of our beautiful land.

I did think of sketching a few of the many charming views
which present themselves from the hills surrounding the Name-
less Valley, but I am not exactly in the mood just now, and I
will leave them "in their glory alone." Connected with a pre-
cipice on one of them, however, I have an incident to relate.
For an hour or more had I been watching the evolutions of a
bald-headed eagle above the valley, when, to my surprise, he
suddenly became excited, and darted down with intense swift-
ness towards the summit of the cliff alluded to, and disappeared
80

'.. r

J,!"'

466.

THE NAMELESS VALLET.

"■■•'•J

among the trees. A piercing shriek followed this movement,
and I anticipated a combat between the eagle and a pair of fish-
hawks which I knew had a nest upon the cliff. In less than
five minutes after this assault, the eagle again made its appear-
ance, but utteiyd not a sound, and, having flown to the opposite
side of the valley, commenced performing a circle, in the most
graceful manner imaginable. Presently the two hawks also
made their appearance high above their rocky home, and pro-
ceeded to imitate the movements of the eagle. At first the two
parties seemed to be ind'fTerent to each other, but on observing
them more closely it was C'vident that they were gradually ap-
proaching each other, and that their several circles were rapidly
lessening. On reaching an elevation of perhaps five thousand
feet, they finally interfered with each other, and, having joined
issue, a regular battle commenced ; and as they ascended, the
screams of the hawks gradually became inaudible, and in a short
time the three royal birds were entirely lost to view in th«
blue zenita.

Before closing this letter, I wish to inform my readers of a
natural curiosity lying between the Clinch and Cumberland
Mountains, and distant from this place only about a day's jour-
ney. I allude to what is called the Natural Tunnel. It is in
Scott County, and consists of a subterranean channel through a
ragged limestone hill, the entire bed of which is watered by a
running stream about twenty feet wide. The cavern is four
hundred and fifty feet long, from sixty to eighty feet in height,
about seventy in width, and of a serpentine form. On either
side of the hill through which this tunnel passes are perpendi-
cular cliffs, some of which are three hundred feet high and ex-
ceedingly picturesque. The gloomy aspect of this tunnel, even
at mid-day, is very imposing ; for when standing near the centre
neither of its outlets can be seen, and it requires hardly an
effort of the fancy for a man to deem himself forever entombed
within the bowels of the earth.

THE VALLEY OF VIRGINIA,

-*ii

Since the date of my last letter, I have heen travelling
through a very beautiful but thickly settled portion of the Al-
leghany country, whose natural curiosities are as familiar to the
world as a thrice-told tale. For this reason, therefore, I shall
be exceedingly brief in describing what I have seen in the Val-
ley of Virginia. That portion of the " Ancient Dominion,"
known by the above name, is about two hundred miles long,
ranging in width from thirty to forty miles. It is bounded on
the north by the Potomac, on the east by the Blue Ridge, on
the west by a spur 'of the AUeghanies, called the North Moun-
tains, and on the south by the New River, or Kanawha, as it
should be called. Its principal streams are the Shenandoah,
the James River, and the Oacapon, which are in every way
worthy of their parent country. In ascending to the north, I
was tempted to perform a pilgrimage down the Kanawha, but
my map told me that I could not see the whole of its valley
without travelling at least two hundred miles, and I therefore
concluded that its charming scenery, its famous salt-works, and
the still more celebrated White Sulphur Springs, should remain
undescribed by my pen. In fact, to visit all the interesting
objects among the Alleghany Mountains would occupy a num-
ber of summers, and therefore, in making a single tour I have
found it important to discriminate as I passed along. But it is
time that I should turn my attention to the prominent attrac-
tions of the great Virginia Valley. They are as follows, and I
shall speak of them in the order in which I visited them, viz. :
the Peaks of Otter, the Natural Bridge, Wyer's Cave, Cyclo-
pean Towers, the Shena. '^.oah, and Harper's Ferry.

r-i

r'¥.

■ iiij

,i..y

468

THE VALLEY OF VIROINIA.

The Peaks of Otter are situated upon the line which nepa-
rates the counties of Bedford and Bottetourt, and are the two
highest mountains on the Blue Eidge range, and therefore the
hishest in Virginia. They derive their name from the fact,
that, at a very early period in the history of out country, the
otter was found in great abundance in the smaller streams at
their base. In appearance they resenlble a pair of regularly
formed haystacks, and reach an elevation of about five thousand
feet above the level of the ocean. Owing to the circumstance
that the country on one side is nearly level, and that the sur-
rounding mountains are comparatively low, their appearance is
exceedingly imposing. The summits of these watchtowers are
destitute of vegetation, but crowned with immense rocks, which
have been scattered about in the most incomprehensible confu-
sion. And hereby hangs a story. About one year ago, a
number of persons ascended the highest peak in question, and
having discovered an immense rock, which appeared to be in a
tottering position, they took into their heads to give it a start
down the mountain side and see what would be the result. They
accomplished their purpose and something more, for it so hap-
pened that the rock travelled much further than they expected,
and having fallen into a very large spring at the foot of the moun-
tain, caused it to disappear from the face of the earth. The owner
of the spring felt himself injured by this circumstance, and went
to law about it, and the offending parties, as I have been in-
formed, were compelled to pay a heavy bill of damages. That the
sunrise and sunset prospects from the Peaks of Otter are superb
may readily be imagined. Those which present themselves on
the north, west, and south, seem to comprise the entire Ap-
palachian chain of mountains, but the oceanward panorama is
unique and particularly impressive. In this direction the whole
eastern portion of Virginia resembles a boundless plain, where
even the most extensive plantations appear no larger 'than the
squares upon a chessboard ; and now that I have employed that
figure, it strikes me as particularly appropriate ; for where is
there a man on the face of the earth who is not playing a game
for the attainment of happiness? From their position, the

THB VALLET OF VIROINIA.

499

earance is

Peaks of Otter look down upon all the fogn and vapors bom of
the sea breezes, and, by those who have frequently beheld their
fantastic evolutions, I am told that they surpass even the wild*
est flights of poetry. Few mountains in this country have been
visited by so many distinguished men as the Peaks of Otter ;
and it is said that it was while standing on their loftiest pinna-
cle that John Randolph first had a realizing sense of the exist-
ence and the power of God. To some minds a mountain peal
may be a thousand-fold more eloquent than the voice of n"
and when I think of the highly moral condition of the pe<.>pV
in Central Yirgicia, I am constrained to award a mite of praifi-
even to the Peaks of Otter for their happy influences.

It was a thousand years ago, and a mighty caravan of mam-
moths were travelling across the American continent. Midway
between two ranges of mountains they came to a great ravine,
over which they could not find a passage, and they were in des-
pair. The Great Spirit took pity upon the animals, and hav-
ing brought a deep sleep upon them, threw a mass of solid rock
completely across the ravine, and so, according to an almost
forgotten Indian legend, came into existenc) the Natural Bridge
of Virginia. The chasm over which this t •"Qnificent limestone
arch has been formed varies from sixty to ninety feet in
width, the surrounding precipices are nearly two hundred
and fifty feet high and perpendicular, and the lower line of the
narrow arch itself is two hundred feet above the stream which
passes through the gorge. The bridge and its cliff-like abut-
ments are all crowned with a luxuriant diad^ of trees, which
lends them an indescribable charm, and directly on the north
side of the former stands an exceedingly picturesque gallery or
parapet of solid rock, which seems to have been formed by
Nature for the especial purpose of affording the most imposing
prospect in the dell. From every elevated point of view
the eye falls into an abyss, which one might easily fancy to be
the birthplace of all the shadows in the world, the gray and
green gloom is so deep, so purely beautiful, and so refreshing,
even at the hour of noon ; but from every point of view at the
bottom of tHe dell, the stupendous arch, as some writer has

'mi

"Hi,,

Vjd

■:.i.:a^

470

THE VALLEY OF VIRGINIA.

finely said, ''seems to offer a passage to the skies," and the
massive masonry of Nature stands boldly out against the blue
heavens, thereby producing a most unique and poetical con-
trast. But the location of this bridge is not less beautiful
than its structure. It is completely surrounded with hills,
which seem to cluster around the rare spectacle, as if to pro-
tect it from sacrilege ; and from the hills in question the eye
is everywhere delighted with mountain landscapes of uncommon
loveliness.

Wyer's Cave is in Augusta county, and the entrance to it is
from the side of a limestone hill, which commands a very
charming prospect of the highly cultivated Valley of the Shen-
andoah. It was originally discovered by one Bernard Wyer
in the year 1804, whose fortune it was to capture a bear within
a few paces of its entrance. Its entire length is not far from
one thousand yards, so that its size is not to be wondered at ;
but when you come to speak of its beauty, the variety, number,
and imposing appearance of its apartments, the novelty of its
concretions, snowy stalactites, its fantastic projections, its com-
parative freedom from dampness, and the whiteness of its walls,
I suppose it must be considered as unsurpassed by any thing of
the kind in the country, excepting the Cave of Kentucky. Its
rooms number twenty, its greatest depth is fifty feet, and its
temperature 50° Fahrenheit. But the pleasure of roaming
about this darksome emblem of perdition is greatly enhanced
by the huge pine torches which you and your guide have to carry
over your heads, tnd then if you can possibly bribe your friend
not to utter a single one of the abominably classical names with
which all the nooks and corners of the cave have been chris-
tened, your gratification will indeed be real, and your impressions
strange, unearthly, and long-to-be-remembered in your dreams.
To enjoy a visit t^ this cave, as it ought to be enjoyed, a man
should have an entire summer day at his disposal, be alone, and
have a torch that should need no trimming, and under his arm
a well-printed copy of Dante. Thus prepared, his enjoyment
would be truly exquisite.

The Cyclopean Towers are also in Augusta county, and were

THE VALLEY OP VIRGINIA.

471

so called on account of their resemblance to the Cyclopean
walls of the ancients. They are formed of limestone, and as
they stand at the outlet of a valley, through which it is proba-
ble a mighty river once flowed, they were evidently formed by
the water while forcing its way around the point of the neigh-
boring hill. There are five or six of them, and they vary from
forty to ninety feet from base to summit, and are covered with
trees. When viewed at the twilight hour they appear like the
mouldering remains of a once magnificent castle, and the wild-
ness of the surrounding scenery is not all calculated to dissipate
this illusion.

With regard the Valley of the Shenandoah, I can only say
that a more beautiful section of country I have never seen.
The soil is exceedingly rich and highly cultivated ; its yeomanry
are descended from the German population of the older times ;
and throughout all its borders, I am certain that peace and
plenty abound. As to the river itself, I can only say that it
is worthy of its vague' but poetical and melodious Indian name,
the interpretation of which is said to be Daughter of the Stars.

And now a single word in regard to Harper's Ferry. When
I close my eyes and bring the scenery of this portion of the
Potomac before my mind, I am disposed to agree, in every par-
ticular, with all those writers who have sung the praises of this
remarkable gorge ; but when I look upon it as it now appears,
despoiled by the 'hand of civilization of almost everything which
gives a charm to the wilderness, I am troubled with an emotion
allied to regret, and I again instinctively close my eyes, that I
may look into the past, and once more hear the whoop of the
Indian hunter following the fleet deer. '

iv:..

:#.

...y|

MISCELLANEOUS NOTES ON THE ALLEGHANY MOUNTAINS.

Since the foregoing letters were published in the National Intelligencer, the
Hon. Thomas L. Clingman, of Ncrth Carolina, has addressed a communica-
tion to that journal, suggested by the letters, from which, and other interest-
ing articles which he has shown me, I hare collected the following items of
information. And first, as to the elevation of the principal mountains allud-
ed to in mj letters, as ascertained hj actual measurement above the level of
the sea. Black Mountain, whose highest peak has been named after Mr.
Clingman, the first to explore and measure it, rises very nearly TOOO feet.
Roan Mountain 6187, Grand Father Mountain 6719, Chimney Top 4433, Tn-
ble Rock 3684, and the Tuckaseege Mountains 3705. In regard to the geolo-
gical formation of the southwestern counties of North Carolina, it has been
asserted by eminent geologists, that the same character prevails here, which
distinguishes the gold and diamond regions of Brazil and Siberia ; nor can
it be doubted that valuable deposites are found here of manganese, lead,
curome, iroti, zinc and marble, with many precious stones, making it on the
whole a country of the highest mineralogical promise. The latitude and ele-
vation of the Alleghany Mountains, in North Carolina, and of course their
temperature is the same with those of ancient Arcadia — the country of herds-
men and shepherds. From this, and many other facts it is argued that the
raising of cattle apd sheep will eventually be the prevailing employments of
the Carolina mountaineers. Though the soil is well adapted to the culture
of various kinds of grain, it is particularly fitted for grasses ; and what seems
extraordinary tu a stranger, is the fact that the soil becomes richer as the
mountains are ascended. The timber which usually covers the sides of the
mountains is heavy, free from underbrush and thereby aflfording {tee pastur-
age, while very many of the mountains are wholly free from timber, but
covered with a must luxuriant growth of fine wild grasses, whore thousands
of cattle may remain throughout the year and flourish. The few sheep that
exist in the country thrive remarkably well, and are sometimes permitted to
run at large during the winter without being fed, and without suffering. The
climate, indeed, is beyond all praise ; the winters are moderate, and the sum-
mers delightfully cool, there being very few places in the country where the
thermometer rises above 80° on the hottest day.

During my wanderings in North Carolina, I was piloted by a mountaineer
to a spot ii! Haywood county, where it was stated a water spout had occur-

■■"*** I

MISCELLANEOUS NOTES.

478

red a few years ago, and the bursting forth of which caused a very great
noise and the shaking of the earth. I was pointed to the side of a small
mountain, and on looking at what seemed to me more like the result of an
avalanche, than anything else, I was told such was the effect of the water
spout. From Mr. Clingman, who is quite learnf d in the science of geology,
and also has devoted special attention to this phenomenon, I am informed
that, at different periods, within the recollection of persons now living, this
mountain had been violently agitated and broken to pieces. The first shock
occurred in th& year 1811 or 1812, and the last in 1836, while it is asserted
that another mountain about forty miles off, was also convulsed in like man*
ner in 1831. In the case of the former mountain, the breadth of the surface
subjected to violence was uowLere more' than two hundred yards, generally
rather less than one hundr ed. Along this space the ground had been rent asun-
der in various places. The fissures generally ran in a northern direction, but.
sometimes at right angles. All the roots of trees which croi^sed the lines of
fracture were broken, and many large ones had been throw;i down. The
rocks also, were cloven by these lines. The top of the mountain seemed to
have been a solid mass of granite, but wa j now broken or shattered. The
sides of the mountain are covered by a good vegetable mould, not particu-
larly rocky, and sustaining trees of large size ; but along the belt of convul-
sion the rocks were much more abundant ; and with reference to the mineral
structure of the locality, it may be remarked that the entire section seems to
constitute a hypogcne formation. Whether similar disturbances have occur-
red in other portions of the Alleghany Mountains, I cannot say, but the above
particulars may be of service to those who feel an interest in the wonders of
geology.

"nii^^'iii

1";-,

V '^-^^ ' >

THE

SOURCES or THE POTOMAC.

■^

%i,

'^u

Vr'U \

ROMNEY.

I HEREWITH commence in Romney and in May, another
series of my gossiffing mountain letters for the Intelligencer,
and it is worthy of notice that I am writing under the roof of
a venerable gentleman, who has been a subscriber to that jour-
nal for nearly fifty years, and that there is an immente pile of
the same in a corner of my room. You will readily imagine,
therefore, that I feel somewhat at home, though distant from
my real home " o'er the far blue mountains."

As the railroad brought me to Winchester, I shall begin the
record of my journey with what I have seen and heard on this
side of that goodly town. The distance thither is forty-three
miles, and, as I must of necessity spend much of my time in
the saddle, I was fortunate to accomplish this distance in the
rs«il carriage, and I ought here to introduce to your acquaint-
ance my only companion, the driver of said carriage or carry-
all. He is thirty-five years of age, small in stature, and rusty
to an uncommon degree. He was "raised" in Winchester,
commenced life as a blacksmith, and, having relinquished that
trade for the art of coach-making, he subsequently turned mail-
carrier, in which capacity he has zealously labored for sixteen
years. His annual income is $120, and, chough he has a family
to support, this sum is deemed fully adequate to make them
comfortable. He is, moreover, without any property " to fall
back upon," and without prosperous relatives; and yet this
man is one of the happiest and most contented I ever beheld.
He declared to me that he knew not what it was to have the
bluet, and that ho could never see any sense in one's making

'NJ

^i*!;!

•S**!
"'^,

■yr

4.m

M 'Ml

478

ROHNET.

himself miserable, when he had plenty to eat, could hear a good
story and sing a good song. A rational motto this, after all,
and faithfully does my friend adhere to it, as a specimen of his
conversation will testify.

Much of the country over which he trans^ ?ted me is moun-
tainous and wild, and, in spite of his own poverty, he could not
help making fun of the poorer inhabitants that we happened to
notice on our way. We saw a solitary log-cabin, for example,
standing upon the summit of a mountain, whereupon he ex-
claimed, " That man has a passion for dogs." '* TV hy so ?" I
inquired. *' Because he owns no less than nine, three to keep off
the wolves, three to keep off the bears, aiA three to pump up
water by a patent pump." We saw another cabin situated in
a hollow, between two very steep but partly cultivated moun-
tains, and this called forth the following remark : *' That's a
very fortunate man ; for, when his pumpkins are ripe and his
potatoes dug, all he has to do is to start them and they roll
right down into his kitchen." I questioned him with regard to
the occupant of a particularly dilapidated cabin, and he replied,
" That man is the victim of mountain wine." " What kind of
a beverage is that?" I continued. "It's made of Jamestown-
weed and Fish-berrieSf and is the* fashionable liquor of this re-
gion, when people hav'nt any money and can't get trusted."
We met a pedestrian on the road, whose clothes were very
much worn and torn, and my friend informed me that he was
a fair specimen of the mountaineers of Hampshire county..
" But why don't they dress more comfortably?" " Oh, they
can't help it," he replied ; ." th^j live upon persimmons, and
damage their clothes by climbing."

But it is time that I should be giving you an account of the
Ice Mountain, the principal natural curiosity of this region,
and in fact the only one worthy of particular note. It lies in
the vioinity of the North river, a tributary of the Caspon or
Cacapon, and is surrounded with hills of some eight hundred
feet in height, while its own elevation is not over five hundred.
It is a common-place affair to the casual observer, but, en be-
ing inspected, it is found to contain near its summit a kind of

ROMNBT.

479

natural ice house built of sandstone. It is subject to the rays
of the sun from nine o'clock in the morning until evening, and
jet the oldest inhabitant of the country cannot remember the
time when an abundance of the purest crystal ice could not be
obtained therefrom at all seasons of the year. The ice is im-
bedded in the rock, and in some of the crevices, snow, friable
and crystalline as when newly fallen, is often found even in
the month of August. As might be expected, the waters flow-
ing from the mountain are by several degrees colder than those
in the neighborhood. Accumulations of ice similar to this
have been discovered in other sections of Hampshire county,
but none so extensive. To account for this phenomenon upon
scientific principles is out of my power, but I can see much
plausibility in the following remarks from the pen of C. B.
Hayden, Esq., as published in Silliman's Journal, in 1843 :

" The solution, I conceive, is to be found in the large and
unusual collection of rocks, which from their porous homogen-
eous texture, are extremely poor conductors of heat. One side
of the mountain consists of a massive wall, many hundred feet
in thickness, and heaped up against this, as an abutment, is a
mass of rocks containing several thousand cubic feet. As the
mountain has a general direction from northeast to southwest,
the talus heap containing the ice has a northwest exposure.
The cavernous nature of this heap would admit the free en-
trance of atmospheric waters, which during the winter would
form ice in the interior of the mass. The ice thus situated
would be protected from external heat by the surroun^ng rocks,
as ice in a refrigerator is isolated and protected from the exter-
nal temperature by the non-conducting sides of the refrigera-
tor. The Ice Mountain only requires for the explanation of its
phenomenon the application of the familiar principle upon
which is constructed the common refrigerator, which tempora-
rily effects what the Ice Mountain permanently does — a tem-
perature independent of external causes. This mountain is, in
fact, a huge sandstone refrigerator, whose increased and unu-
sual effects, beyond those of the ordinary refrigerator, are due
to the increased collection of poor conducting materials which
form its sides."

r.?5?i

■:ir,:s

480

ROMNET.

Midway between Winchester and this place the road crosses
the Capon River, which is indeed a charming stream, rapid,
clear and cold. It is some seventy-five miles long, and r ear its
fountain head is called the Lost River, owing to the fact that
for the distance of several hundred yards it entirely disappears
from view under a hill, after which it resumes its course as
naturally and unconcerned as if it had not performed a remark-
able feat. Throughout its entire course it is hemmed in with
moderately high mountains, and its bottom lands are narrow,
but fertile and well cultivated. Wheat is the principal product,
and the yield is sufficient to support a number of " merchant
yiils," which transport their flour to market by teams to Win-
chester and the Ohio Railroad. As to the fish of Capon River
the leather-mouthed varieties are the most abundant, although
I am informed that trout are frequently taken in the Lost
River and its tributaries, as also in the North river, wiiich is a
branch of the Capon. In the way of same, the hill country is
well supplied with deer and foxes, both of which are hunted
with hounds.

The well known spot called Capon Springs we left about a
dozen miles on our left. It is one of the pleasantest places for
a summer sojourn to be found in Virginia, located in a pictu-
resque hollow of the North Mountains, two miles from the
Capon River, and boasts of a handsome spring of water without
any particular virtue, of spacious and convenient bathing
houses and quite an elegant hotel, which has just been opened.
Within a dozen miles of Capon Springs I have thrown the flies
for trout with great success.*

And those who have a passion for caves will find a very sin-
gular one i|^this county, a knowledge of which is as yet mostly
confined to the bats that inhabit its secret chambers. It is
located on the top of a mountain called Long Lick, and while
the aperture at the mouth is only about four feet in diameter,
it enlarges as you descend, like an inverted funnel, and after
going down to the distance of seventy feet by means of a rope

* One month after the above was written it was my privilege to accompany
the Hon. Daniel Webster upon a visit to Capon Springs where he delivered
one of his happiest after-dinner speeches.

BOMNET.

481

th'> explorer finds himself on a rocky floor, with several passages
on his right and left leading to other rooms which have never
been visited.

And now for a word about the little village of Romney where
I am spending a couple of days. It is situated within half a mile
of the South Branch of the Potomac, flanked on the east by a
lot of miscellaneously planted hills, while on the western side is
a ridge of steep mountain lands, which, when thrown into shadow
at the sunset hour, presents the appearance ^ an immense
rampart, the river flowing at its base answering as a moat to the
fortification. The scenery all about Romney is quite beautiful,
some of it indeed might be termed imposing. This portion of
the South Potomac runs through, or rather along the western
side of a narrow but fertile bottom land, and at the two points
down the river, four, and six miles distant, there are perpen-
dicular bluffs, which I will describe presently. The population
of Romney is estimated at six hundred souls, and the hand-
somest compliment that I can pay its inhabitants is to mention
the fact that they support two well-conducted boarding-schools.
One of them is in charge of the Episcopalians of the place, and
the other of the Presbyterians. The edifices are of brick,
neatly built and spacious, and surrounded with tastefully
arranged grounds. The town derives its chief importance from
being the county seat ; and that the people are fond of good
living (like all true Virginians) may be inferred from the fact
that venison, trout, corncakes, and maple molasses have been
my principal food since I arrived here ; the venison was of that
peculiar quality which is denominated mountain mutton, and as
to the trout, they were chiefly taken by myself — and, though
the largest in the lot measured some fourteen inches, he cost
me a walk of just as many miles.

Romney, I forgot to mention, is also upon the line of a
capital road, connecting the Ohio and Potomac rivers, over
which there are constantly passing extensive herds of beef-cattle
bound to the Baltimore market. At least five hundred head,
have passed through the village since yesterday morning, and
I am informed that this business continues through every month
81

•:*r,.

?"■■•■

Kktii

111

■0I»
•.rm

m
il

482

ROMNEY.

in the year. Some of the drovers are men who have r^^T'ed and
fattened their cattle upon their own farms, while others are
speculating droyers, who buy up their cattle, and take them to
market. The business of feeding these cattle on the road, is
quite lucrative to the feeder, but expensive to the drover, since
they travel only about a dozen miles per day, while pasturage
for a single night costs ten cents per head, and fodder about
fifteen. Some fine cattle are said to be sent to market from
Western Virginia, but it seems to be generally acknowledged
that the finest cattle come from beyond the Ohio.

The blufis alluded to above are known as the Hanging rocks,
and, though rather tame to one familiar with the scenery of the
Saguenay and Tallulah, they are decidedly worth seeing. The
nearest bluff is the most interesting, and rises from the eastern
margin of the Potomac to a height varying from two to three
hundred feet, and extending along the river for six hundred
yards. The lower strata of rock is limestone, and the upper
strata sandstone. When seen from a distance, and the oppo-
site bank of the river, (the waters of which are very clear, and
literally as green as emerald,) the rocks bear a striking resem-
blance to a block of very ancient six story stone houses, such
as we see pictured by the artists of the old world. Stained as
they are with almost every color, from yellow and red to black
and brown, to really requires but little fancy for one to discover
therein, doors and curtained windows, alcoves with pieces of
statuary, richly carved wainscotings and cornices, bird-cages
and flags, hanging porticoes, and fantastic sign-boards. The
whole bluff, indeed, looks like a specimen of magnificent but
rude masonry ; and at one point the rocks have formed them-
selves into a cluster of towers, which appear as we may imagine
the edifice of the Smithsonian Institution will appear a thousand
years hence, when overgrown with rank mosses and vines.
When yon come to stand at the base of the bluff, however, its
aspect is greatly changed ; it topples over your head in a fear-
ful manner, and is as scragged and jagged, and rugged, as un-
couth and wild as any thing of the kind, I have ever seen, (and
I have travelled much among the mountains of our land.) Tra-

•

ROMNET.

483

dition says that there was once a famous battle fought upon the
brow of the Hanging Rocks between two hostile tribes of Indians,
and this story may well be believed, for upon a field in full
view of the bluff are to be seen two hillocks marking the graves
of the slain ; and it is a singular circumstance that, though well
nigh a century has passed away since the red man were masters
of this soil, hatchets of steel, such as were then in use, have
frequently been brought to light from these very graves.

' ^i[

fef*'

T-

At:

iw'^

MOORFIELD.

I AM now writing some twenty-seven miles further up the
South Branch of the Potomac than where my last letter was
dated. The intervening country, bordering upon the river, is
mostly mountainous, but not remarkably picturesque, except-
ing at one ppint, about six miles from this place, where there
appears to be a second, but inferior, edition of the " Hanging
Rocks." With the hamlet of Moor field, however, and espe-
cially the surrounding country, I have been much pleased. It
lies near the centre of a valley, which has appropriately been
termed the Garden of Vijjginia. It contains about five hun-
dred inhabitants, is ornamented with two handsome little
churches, (Methodist and Presbyterian,) and about the village,
the people, and the counliry, there is a kind of Arcadian sim-
plicity, which is truly refreshing to one accustomed to city life.
As to the landlord and table of the Virginia House, where I
am staying, it affords me pleasure to say they would be an ac-
quisition in any of the eastern cities. The valley in question
is about twelve miles long, and from one to two miles wide,
level, and very fertile, and compbitely hemmed in by wood-
covered mountains of moderate elevation, from the summit of
which the beautiful Potomac may be seen, pursuing its serpen-
tine course. Many of the farmers in the valley are wealthy,
and none of them poor — the marketable price of the land aver-
aging about one hundred dollars per acre. Corn is the prin-
cipal product ; and it is said that some of the fields have yi;>lded
a good crop annually for upwards of thirty years. Hence the
reputation of the valley for its cattle, which are raised in groat

MOORFIELD.

485

numbers and of the finest quality ; and at this very moment
there is passing my window, bound to Washington, a drove of
one hundred. Indeed, the people here are pre-eminently inde-
pendent in outward circumstances as well as in their feelings.

On Sunda^ast I attended morning service in the Presby-
terian Church, and was particularly pleased with what I there
saw and heard. The audience was large, and consisted of a
goodly number of the sturdy and more aged of the yeomanry
of the valley, with their wives and children, and children's
children, who conducted themselves with a degree of propriety
that I have seldom seen excelled in communities boasting of all
the refinements of the age. In every particular the church
was plain, but perfectly neat and comfortable ; and instead of
an organ, with its attending flourishes and overtures, psalms
and hymns were sung by the congregation, to the good old tunes
of a century ago. The preacher was the Rev. William N.
Scott, a man venerable in years, and the father of two sons,
who are, as I am informed, eminent in the sacred professiin of
their father. The text on the occasion was as follows, (Prov. iv.
18) : " The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth
more and more unto the perfect day ;" and the sermon was a
tribute of rc^'nect to the memory of a young lady, who had
recently dieu of consumption. The preacher spoke extempo-
raneously, with a soft and plaintive voice using concise and
elegant language ; and, as he briefly commented upon the beau-
tiful and Christian character of the deceased, I was forcibly
reminded of Irving's touching essay entitled '"The Pride of the
Village." The range of thought throughout the discourse was
elevated, and yet there was something about it in strict keep-
ing with the rural district in which it was delivered — the
imagery being drawn from the works of nature, as ^tually
seen in part from the pulpit which the preacher occupied.
For example, in speaking of the law of progression, (which was
the loading idea of tho sermon,) he remarked to his hearers
that it was seen in the flowing streams of their valleys, and tho
giant ouks upon their mountains, as well as in tho planetary
worlds, tho human intellect, and tho light of revelation as de-

486

MOOBFIBLD.

veloped in the human heart. Upon the whole, the sermon was
really an impressive one.

With regard lo natural curiosities, the region of Moorfield
is rather meagre •; and it may afford to be without them, since
it can boast of the rarest scenery and' superior igricultural re-
sources. In the way of interesting characters, however, it is
well supplied.

One story that I have picked up here, illustrates the character
of an old hunter, who lives upon one of the neighbcring moun-
tains. For many years past he has imposed upon the credulity
of his more ignorant brethren o'.' the bush, by passing himself
off as a wizard, by which profes'jion he managed to accumulate
a good deal of money. And the manner in which he originally
established his reputation, and made himself the to of the
counti-y, was as follows :

A brother hunter came to him with his rifle, declaring that
he had made many dhots at deer and Othci* wild animals, but
thattlie could never hit any of them, and he therefore supposed
it must be out of order. The wizard examined the gun, and
perceiving at a glance that the sight was only out of its proper
place, he mysteriously shook his head, and said that the gun
had a spell upon it, which could not be removed without the pay-
ment of three dollars. The man paid the money, and was told
to call on the morrow. The eight was then fixed in its proper
place, and when the man came after his gun, he gave it a fair
trial, and expressed himself as perfectly satisfied. The wizard
then told the man that he must perform another secret incanta-
tion over the gun, and that it would be ready to take away in
one hour ; whereupon he retired into a room alone, when he
proceeded to load the gun with a small charge of powder, using
for a ^d a quantity of soft spunk ; and this charge ho con-
tinued to repeat till the barrel was filled within a foot of the
muzzle. He now came forth to deliver the gun into tho hands
of its owner, and .while giving him some particular directions
as to how he must hold tho gun, and prohibiting him from
looking behind, while ho was to hasten home with all possible
despatch, tho wizard slyly dropped a ooal of fire into tho rifle,

MOORFIELD.

487

and the man disappeared. Hr ily had he gone a hundred
yards before bang! went the old gun, and the hunter was
alarmed ; a few moments more, and a second charge followed,
and he was astounded ; bnothcr brief period elapsed, and still
another report followed; another, and still another, when the
poor hunter became almost frantic with fear, and throwing the
gun away, he ran for his home with all speed, while nearly'
every dozen paces that he accomplished was measured by the
explosions of the spell-bound gun. Of course the narrow escape
which he had mr 3e was soon spread far and wide, and the
power as well as wickedness of the wizard were universally
acknowledged.

Of another eocontric cVaiacter, a wealthy but improvident
farmer, long since deceased, I have heard the following parti-
culars : He was famous for always being in a hurry, and on one
occasion ho set out from home early in the morning, informing
Lis family that ho was in a hurry, and would be back in a couple
of days. He departed, and was gone ttvo years. On his return,
he stopped within a mile of his own habitation, where he met
an old acquaintance, who invited him to supper. " Oh, I am
in a hurry," he replied, " and cannot." But he did dismount,
and spent two weeks with his friend. Ho once went to Wash-
ington with a drove of cattle, and, just as ho was about ready
to return, he thought he would call and pay his respects to the
(then) President, Mi . Adams. Ho did so, riding directly up to
the front door of the White House. He happened to meet the
President at the threshold, who invited him to come in and
spend a little time. He was again " in a hurry, and had not
tho liesure to spare," but finally had his horse sent to the stable,
and spent only ten days as the guest of the President. Towards
tho latter part of his life, ho was a good deal troubled by the
sheriff of tho county, who was constantly trying, but in vain,
to execute a ea. sa. upon him. During this period he was par-
ticularly a "7to»«(;-body," and of course was constantly on tho
watch for the officer of justice ; and, whenever he saw that
officer approaching his dwelling, ho would lock his doors, and
ascending to an upper window, would there safely hold a con-

mil

:;n.i

til:

'^1

488

MOORFIBLD.

#
I

versation with the sheriff, and also lower into his hands, by a
small cord, a glass of old eye whiskey, with cake aud apples.
Four years before his death he was prosecuted for tht non-pay-
ment of a largo debt, which he declined settling upon any con-
ditions. The lawyers, after taking his personal property,
told him that unless he consented to give up his real estatt;, he
vrould have to be imprisoned. He was perverse in his opposi-
tion, and had to take up his abode in the county jail. He had
i\ room handsomely fitttd up for his accommodation, where, in
the enjoyment of good liquor and all the luxuries of the coun-
try, he spent the remainder of his days. He was a great
favorite in this section of f^ountry, and his funeral was one of
the largest that ever took place in Moorficld.

As I looked out of my window yesterday morning, I chanced
to notice a young man mounted upon a horse, riding along the
strcot at a furious rate. He had a remarkably fine counte-
nance, with a head of hair of uncommon length, and was dressed
in a suit of Lincoln-green, with such a hat as artists love to
portray in their pictures, and he was followed by three dogs.
I inquired his name, and found it to be Che, lea W. Alexander,
and further ascertained that he had recently become a painter
by profession, and was now upon a hunt after a fox or a deer.
I have this morning had the pleasure of being introduced to
this gallant hunter-artist, and examined some of his pictures.
They consist of family portraits, aod copies froiu .^'''oh artists
as Stuart, Sully, and Nagle, and considering them as the pro-
ductions of a young and entirely self-taught artist, are full of
merit and truly astonishing. I have chronicled his name,
simply because I would prophecy for him, as a painter, (if he
will only apply himself, and spend his winters in NeW York or
Philadelphia,) a prominent career. But ho must expect to la-
bor without ceasing.

But I must bring oven this brief letter to a close, for my
horse, purchased in this place, is at the door, waiting to carry
me into what I have been led to imagine a peculiarly savage
mountain wilderness ; and as fortune will have it, I am to bo
accompanied by a couple of ventnrcbome fheiids.

s, by a
apples.
)n-pay-
nv con-
opt'ty,
tatK, he

op^iosi-
Ile had
here, in
he coun-

a great
,8 one of

chanced
long the
e counte-
rs dressed
ts love to
rec dogs.
lexander,
a, painter
>r a deer,
ucod to
)ictureB.
I artists
tlic pro-
•e full of
name,
Br, (if he
York or
ect to la-

, for my

to carry

y savage

Im to bo

THE HERMIT WOMAN OF THE ALLEGHANIES.

My ride from Moorfield to Seneca Creek, a distance of thirty
miles, has been quite interesting. The ten miles of road lying
between that town and Petersburg runs nearly all the way
through a rich bottom land, with nothing in particular, how-
ever, to rivet the attention but a picturesque bluff, on the
summit of which the rocks have been so curiously piled up, as
to resemble two pieces of statuary, representing a crouching
panther and a running deer. At the base of this bluff is a
fording place, in crossing which, a man was once thrown from
his horse, and having been drowned, his body was subsequently
found in a neighboring pool of the South Potomac, standing
erect, with both arms extended as if in supplication.

I spent a night with my companions in the dingy-looking
hamlet of Petersburg, where I picke-'i up the following particu-
lars respecting an almost obsolete custom, peculiar to this
section of the country. It is termed running for the bottle, and
is a kind of interlude or episode in a marriage celebration.
When a buxom lady is about to be married, every body is
invited to the wedding, und two entire days are devoted to
feasting and dancing, when the time arrives that she is to be
taken to the residence of her lord and master. This change of
location is accomplished on horseback, and the groom and bride
are invariably accompanied by their guests, who combine to
form, as they journey in pairs, a truly im;>o?ing cavalcade,
varying, according to circumstances, froiri one to two hundred
persons. The day of the march is of course a pleasant one,
and the journey to be accomplished ia perhaps, five miles. At

''"ill

Mill

ff;1

■ ' f

490

THE HERMIT WOMAN OF THE ALLEGHAKIES.

^f-m^

the residence of the groom every thing is in a state of prepa-
ration for the reception of the party, and with especial care, a
bottle of choice liquor, richly decked out with ribands, has been
placed upon a high post at the front gate of the dwelling.
While the cavalcade are on the move, and have arrived within
one mile of the place, the master of ceremonies steps aside upon
his horse, and extends an invitation to all the gentlemen present,
to join in a race for the bottle, which is known to be in waitirg
for the winner of the race, whose privilege it will be to drink
the health of the bride on her arrival. Fifty of the younger
men in the party have perphaps accepted the invitation extended
to them, and, leaving the procession, they start off at full speed
for the much-desired bottle. The road is winding, and perhaps
stony, and stumpy, and muddy ; but what matter ? Away they
fly, like a party of Indians after buffalos ; while along the road,
it may be, cattle are bellowing, sheep bleating, dogs barking,
hens cackling, and crows cawing. The goal is now in sight ;
one effort more, and the foremost horseman is at the gate, and
has received from the hands of the groom's sister, the much
desired bottle ; then ascend the huzzas and shoutings of that
portion of the people assembled to welcome the bride.

Meanwhile, the cavalcade comes in sight, headed, as before,
by the groom and bride, and, as they approach the gate, the
winner of the bottle comes forth upon his horse, and pour-
ing a portion of liquor into a goblet, presents it to the bride,
and has the satisfaction of being the first to drink the good
health of her newly-married ladyship. The huzzas and shout-
ings continue, when, in tlie midst of the direst confusion, the
ladies arc assisted into the house, the horses are stabled, and a
regular siege of two or three days dancing and feasting and
carousing succeeds, with which the wedding is terminated. But
to continue my journey .

The road from Potersburg to this place runs along the north
fork of the South Potomic, a wild and roaring, but very beau-
tiful mountain stream, 'liie rivo; itself is exceedingly serpen-
tine, but the road is vastly more so, and wo had to ford the
former at least thirty times, often too, exposed to considerable

THE HEBMIT WOMAN OF THE ALLEGHANIES.

491

)repa-
lare, a
s been
elling.
■within
le upon
resent,
waitirg
) drink
rounger
stended
11 speed
perhaps
ray they
lie road,
barking,
n sight;
rate, and .
he much
} of that

,9 before,
gate, the
nd pour-
10 bride,
|the good
td shout-
ision, the
)d, and a
king and
ted. But

Itho north
lery beau-
jy serpen-
ford the
biderablo

danger. The scenery throughout the entire route is truly su-
perb, fully equal, in many particulars, to that of the White and
Adirondac mountains. The hills are covered with forests of
luxuriant growth, rising in many places to the height of at
least three thousand feet, and for many miles presenting per-
pendicular walls from five hundred to fifteen hundred feet high.
The three most imposing of the natural structures hero seen
are known as the Golding Gorge, the Fire CliflF, and the Seneca
Chasm. They are all of such a character as to be undescribable
by words ; they are indeed wonderful to a remarkable degree.
The first, for example, located some ten miles from the mouth
of the north fork, is a massive and narrow opening, through
which the stream forces itself, with a stupendous bluff on the
left hand, hanging or toppling over the stream. The second,
four miles further off on the left, is a perpendicular but narrow,
and perfectly bare ridge of slate and sandstone towers and
turrets, looming against the siy to the height of more than a
thousand feet ; and, at the time I beheld it, the mountain, of
which it forms a part, was on fire, so that the pictm-e which
the whole presented was magnificent. The third, which is di-
rectly at tbc mouth of Seneca creek, resembles the second in
its general formation, but is more lofty and fairy-like ; gorgeous
in the blended colors of the rainbow, and more frowning and
overhanging in some of its phases.

Delighted, however, and deeply impressed, as I have been by
the sceneM|of this Alpine land, I have been far more interested
in 'an ol(^roman, whom I have had the pleasure of seeing.
Her name is Elizabeth Golding, or Goklizon, and she resides
in a log cabin, entirely alone, directly at the foot of the gorge
which has taken her name. She is of German origin, and re-
presents herself as one hundred and ttoelve years of age. She
was born, according to her own words, " within a two days'
ride of Philadolphia, in Pennsylvania," and her father was a
soldier in the Revolution under Washington, and she herself
was in the immediate vicinity of the American camp at the
defeat of General Braddock, of which event she habitually re-
counts a great number of interesting and thrilling incidents,

illll

all I

Ill'l

ill! i

iiib.tl

'if I

492

THE HERMIT WOMAN OF THE ALLEGHANTES.

closing each paragraph with the remark that the battle field
was wet, very wet, with blood. She has been husbandless and
childless for nearly half a century, and for many years has
lived, as now, in the solitude of the mountains, utterly alone.
Indeed, everything about the old woman is peculiar and strange.
In stature she is quite small, and her hair (which is white as
snow) is very long ; when engaged in conversation, her coun-
tenance fires up exceedingly, and she accompanies each sen-
tence with the most animated of gestures ; her voice, though
still strong, is altogether beyond her control, having an unna-
tural tone ; and the wrinkles running entirely over her face
and neck are as deep as we might imagine them to be after
having been furrowed by the tears of even one heart for so
long a time as a century. She was clothed in the simplest
manner, having upon her head a cap made of common brown cot-
ton, a frock of blue homespun cloth, and upon her feet nothing
but woollen socks. During the whole time that we were in her
<5abin she was smoking some bitter weed in a corn-cob pipe,
and, though haggard and worn, she had a pleasant smile, and
when either of her guests happened to utter something that
was novel to her ear, she would exclaim, *' Oh yes, that is won-
derful !" Her only means of subsistence for years past had
been obtained by making hickory brooms, but even this busi-
ness she had been compelled to give up, for slio could no more
climb the mountains to obtain the proper material ; and though
she seemed to be perfectly certain that she would Jn provided
for, she expressed the greatest dread of the count^nmshoiise.
We inquired as to her appetite, and she replied, " Oh, I eats
very little ; I never eat much, sometimes nothing in a whole
day, and never more than once a day, and I am well acquainted
with hunger." As to her sleep we also questioned her, and
she said, " That's what troubles me most ; I cannot sleep now,
I am so old, and so I lay on my bed all night thinking of my
greaty good, and sweet Father in the Heavens J" We asked
her how she managed to obtain the necessaries of life, and she
said she did not know, only that people who travelled on the
road sometimes stopped in to give her a liitle coffee or flour ;

THE HERMIT WOMAN OF THE AI^EGHANIES.

493

field

3 and
3 has
oilone.
-ange.
lite as
couu-
h seu-
though
L unna-
er face
e after
for so
limplest
)wn cot-
nothing
e in her
ob pipe, ,
lile, and
ng that
; is won-
»ast had
lis busi-
no more
I though
»rovided
ishouse.
I, I eats
a whole
Iquainted
Iher, and
jeep now,
ig of my
c asked
and she
[d on the
or flour;

her main staj being a small garden of vegetables, the brush
fence around which had been built by her own hands ; and this
garden was remarkably neat. As to her sight, it was as good
as ever, and she was unacquainted with the use of spectacles.
We asked her how much money she would want to support her
a year, and she replied that ten dollars would take care of her
a long time more than a year. As a matter of course, my
compauions and I made up a little purse for her benefit, and
when we gave it to her it seemed as if she would embrace us in
spite of ourselves. Indeed, we made her a number of trifling pre-
sents, and she expressed her gratitude by weeping, and assuring
us that her " Father in the Heaven»," would bless us and make
us happy, wherever we might go. And I can assure the reader
that the tears shed by that old woman of Jive score years and
ten were not the only ones that sprung into the eyes on that
occasion, albeit we were unused to w<!eping.

But I have not yet given the reader an idea of the home of
this lonely being ; in truth, it baffles c'escrintion. Her nearest
neighbor is some four miles off, and bar only companions in her
solitude, are a little dog and a cat. Her cabin stands near the
water's edge, and directly on the liill-side ; it is without a win-
dow, but light in abundance cotufs in from the gaping roof and
sides of the black and mouldering )og habitation; the chimney,
too, which is of mud and sticks, is in a dilapidated condition.
Her bedstead is made of small pine sticks, with the bark still
on, her couch consisting of hemlock boughs covered with straw,
upon which are two or three wretchedly worn bedquiltf. In
one corner of the room are two or three shelves, where are dis-
played her cooking and eating utensils, the original cost of
which (and they were very old and worn) could not have been
more than one dollar. An old stool answers the purpose of a
chair, and a board nailed W the side of the cabin is her only
table ; hanging from the logs at the side of her bed are two or
three old gowns, which help to keep out the air and the rain ;
she is also the owner of a spinning-wheel ; and from the crevices
of the logs around, above, and everywhere, depend bunches of
herbs and faded flowers which she has gathered in her rambles :

! ': 'I
■ ( n

1; !•-

j I

494

THE HERMV WOMAN OF THE ALLEOHANIES.

but there yras a taste and neatness displayed in the arrange-
ment of the miserable furniture of the room frhich gave it a
really cheerful r'.spect. We asked the old woman if she never
apprehended any danger irhile thus living so utterly alone,
and she replied, " Of course not ; who would harm a poor for-
saken being like me ? I ain't afraid even of the bears, for its
only last fall that one came down here, and scratched up my
garden, but I drove him off with a big stick." Up to this point,
everything we saw and heard concerning this aged woman was
strange ; but, when we rose to depart, we were still more aston-
ished by her wild movements, as she addressed us to the follow-
ing effect : " Men, I thank you for your goodness ; I cannot
read, but my Great Father has told me, in my heart, all about
it. There is a heaven, i^en, and its a very happy place ; and
there is a hell, men, and its a very dree iful place ; they both
will never have an end. Now, men, good bye ; you have been
good to the old woman, but we must part ; good bye ; we shall
meet once more at the judgment, but for only a short time.
Live, men, so that you may get to Heaven !" And so we left
this strange, strange being ; and I am confident, that long after
her bones shall have mingled with the dust, one trio of travel-
lers, if still living, will remember with wonder and pleasure
their interview with the Hermit Woman of the Alleghaniea.

A'. 1;

ACROSS THE ALLEGHANIES.

Since my last letter was written, my companions and I have
compassed a section of country measuring in width, in a direct
line, only some thirty miles, but comprehending one of the most
truly savage portions of the Alleghany mountains. We as-
cended Seneca creek a distance of ten miles, spending two
nights there, and enjoying one day of the rarest trout-fishing.
The fi'"3t night wo harbored with one William Adamson, a wor-
thy and intelligent Irishman, who "keeps a store" for a living,
and trafficks to a considerable extent in the fur-trade. He and
his family treated us with the utmost kindness, and when we
came to depart, he positively refused to receive a single penny
for his hospitality. His cabin stands directly on the marghi of
Seneca creek ; and within a few paces of his door is a beautiful
pool, where, just as the day was breaking, I threw a fly for
about ten minutes, and caught three fine trout, measuring, nine,
ten, and thirteen inches ; and while in the act of landing the
last of them, I unfortunately disturbed another as he was en-
dervoring to secure a trout for his own breakfast. This bit of
sport, with what I have heard respecting the trout of Seneca
creek, excited our party not a little, and we devoted the whole
day to the sport. The stream, which might be termed a large
brook, runs, in its whole course, through a ravine of the moun-
tains, is full of pools, and, but for the undergrowth of bushes,
would be a perfect angling stream. The number captured by
the party during the day was much greater than one hundred,
and very few of the fish measured less than nine inches, while
some of them reached the length of sixteen inches. My com-

II ^'l

496

ACROSS THE ALLEGHANIES.

f\' iM

i-\''

^"H-i i

panions used the worm and I the fly, and thongh they heat me
in numhers, I heat them in weight. The only alloy to my en-
joyment of this sport was the utter destitution which I met
with in a cabin midway up the side of one of the mountains.
There was hut one room in the hovel, and the family, all of
whom were cadaverous in appearance, and wretchedly clothed,
consisted of a man and woman, one overgrown son, and seven
daughters, two of whom were lying upon a bed of straw, upon
the floor, dangerously ill. They were too poor to employ a
doctor, even if one could have been obtained, and the only food
which they had in store was a peck of meal, and the remains
of a ground-hog (very good eating, by the way) which the son
had recently killed with a stone. The little patch of clean
land near the cabin was covered with a scanty growth of wheat,
which had been put into the ground by means of a common
hoe, that being the only farming implement which the family
possessed. We endeavored to ascertain which of the two po-
verty-makers, intemperance or idleness, had brought this family
to such a miserable condition, and were surprised to learn that,
instead of either, it was consumption. We inquired if any of
the family had died, and received no reply, " Only three of us
are ^et dead, and there they are under that rail-pen on yon hill
side ; Betsey, Jane, and Samuel ;" I doubt not that all the
travellers left that cabin " wiser and better men."

The next night we spent under the roof an old man named
John Keller, whose family consisted of his aged help-mate and
one daughter. They are illiterate people, but industrious and
frugal. As we approached the cabin we saw the old man and
the daughter hard at work rolling and burning logs upon a nar-
row dei^-clearing, and, on entering the cabin, (after having
obtained permission to remain there,) we found the old woman
cooking trout, bacon, and buckwheat cakes for supper. The
situation of the cabin struck me as particularly romantic, for
on either side, within a stone's throw, arose two nearly perpen-
dicular walls of mountain, covered with mammoth vegetation ;
the base of one of them being washed by the ever-roaring and
impatient waters of the Seneca. Within the dwelling there

ACROSS THE ALLEOHANIES.

497

beat me
a my en-
h I met
Duntains.
ly, all of
' clothed,
knd seven
aw, upon
employ a
only food
) remains
I the son
of clean
of wheat,
', common
he family
lO two po-
his family
earn that,
if any of
iree of us
n yon hill
it all the

an named
-mate and
trious and
man and
pon a nar-
er having
old woman
per. The
aantic, for
ly perpen-
egotation ;
oaring and
ling there

were no evidences whatever of elegance or luxury, but every
thing was neat. During the period intervening between supper
and bedtime, our host entertained us with his conversation, from
which we learned that he had been a famous hunter in his time,
but was now chiefly a tiller of the soil and an angler. He told
us, among other things, that rattlesnakes were very abundant
in the surrounding country, and that he was once bitten by one
of these reptiles while out fishing. While passing over a log
he stepped upon one m!' them, which immediately gave its death-
rattle and struck him upon the bhin-bone. The fangs pene-
trated to the bone, and the bite v. as painful. He was greatly
alarmed, and, instead oi stoppir;^ to kill '.' e snake, ho ran into
the water and bathed the wound. Inf '.lamation took place
immediately, however, and he hasteneil lome with the utmost
speed, and on arriving there hi "■ msations were • i.^seof a man
grossly intoxicated. All sor-a of applications were made to
the wound ; his leg was swollen to an unnatural size, and be*
came black ; his eyes were inflamed and he remained in a dan-
gerous state for about fourteen days, when, to the astonishment
of all, he began to feel better, and subsequently recovereu.
And this incident tJok place ad late in the year as the first of
October. Our host also informed us that he was once pursuing
a deer over the mountains, with his dog, when the deer made a
desperate leap from the brow of a hill, and on coming up to it
he found that it had jumped and killed itself within a few yards
of his own cabin -oor.

On leaving S(;;< 'f .; Creek we crossed a lofty range of moun-
tains by a narrow bridle-path, near the summit of which we
found one solitary log-house, inhabited by a hunter, before
which were planted two immense posts, surmounted with deer
and elk h.^rns to the number of some thirty pairs. These, with
the appearance of the man and his hounds, strongly tempted
us to tarry and have a hunt, but we were thinking of the Dry
Fork of the Cheat river, famous for its trout. We found this
to be the richest trout stream we had yet seen, as we caught
them by the hundred, and of a size truly astonishing ; some of
them measuring not less than twenty inches. As before, I
32

\ (i

498

ACROSS THE ALLEQHANIES.

fished with the fly, and upon an average, took the heaviest fish ;
out of one small pool alone I took four trout nearly a foot long.
But this stream is not only remarkable for the rare trout-fish-
ing which it afibrds, and its surpassing wild and beautiful
scenery, but also for the fact that at one point -near its source,
called The Sinks, it rushes into a cave in the side of a moun-
tain, and, disappearing for a time, again appears to view, and
continues on its course in the sunlight. The country lying be-
tween the Dry Fork and this place is simply a waste of deso-
late and elevated mountains, watered at equal distances by the
Laurel, the Gode Fork, and the Shaver's Fork, or Big Cheat,
which are all tributaries of the Cheat river, itself a tributary
of the Monongahela. The Cheat derives its name from the
fact that its waters are so clear, and at the same time so dark,
as to deceive the stranger in regard to its depths when crossing
its fording places. The country throughout its whole course is
mountainous, (this I have been told, and have seen it too from
a dozen mountain peaks,) the interval land along its borders
being narrow but well cultivated.

On my arrival at Beverly, the friends who accompanied me
over the mountains left me for a difierent direction from the
one I am to pursue, and, by way of consoling myself at their
departure, I joined an old hunter at the foot of the neighbor-
ing Cheat mountains, and went with him upon a deer hunt.
We encamped at a waterfall on the Big Cheat, and in the vicin-
ity of a salt lick. Out of the pool below the fall I caught
more than trout enough for our supper, which we cooked by
roasting before the fire, and salted with the drippings of fat
bacon. It was a beautiful night, and the moon lighted us to
the lick, where in ambush we awaited the expected game. One,
two, and three hours elapsed, and nothing was heard in that
lonely ravine of the mountains but the loud song of the
whippoorwill. We talked to each other in whispers, and the
whisperings of my companion made me very sleepy, although
his stories were of the wilderness, of bears, and panthers, and
other wild animals, and the upshot of the whole matter was
that I fell asleep. Crack went his rifle, smack went my head

ACROSS THE ALLCaHANIES.

499

It fish;
; long,
it-fish-
autiful
source,

moun-
>w, and
ing be-
(f deso-
I by the
; Cheat,
ributary
rom the
60 dark,
crossing
course is
too from

borders

against a tree, and I was awakened from a dream of home,
when I heard a terrible scampering of something through the
woods, and saw, only a short distance off, a buck writhing m
the agonies of death. A knife was soon passed across his
throat by the hunter, and having dragged him as best we could,
to our encampment, we hung him up, and went to rest upon
our bed of hemlock boughs, with a huge fire sending its sheets
of flame and smoke high among the branches of the overhang-
ing trees. We slept until daybreak, made a breakfast upon
trout and venison, threw the mutilated deer upon the back of
a horse we had brought for the purpose, and were at home
again, or rather in the hunter's cabin, long before the hour of
noon.

With the village of Beverly I am really more than well
pleased. It is a pleasant place, and situated upon a pleasant
river, that of Tygart Valley. This valley is comparatively
narrow, and inhabited by a worthy and hard-working yeoman-
ry ; the soil is similar to that of the South Branch of the Po-
tomac, yielding the best of corn, while that of the entire moun-
tain or* upland region is better adapted to wheat, oats and pota-
toes. Beverly is the county seat of one of the largest and
wildest counties in the State of Virginia ; with few and liter-
ally narrow exceptions, it is a country of rugged, uncultivated
mountains, portions of the arable lands having been estimated
to be at least two thousand feet above the level of the ocean,
while the higher mountains are from three to four thousand feet
higher than the same level. A rifle is almost an indispensable
article in every dwelling ; and an idea of the value of the wild
land, upon an average, may be obtained by learning that the
tax which I haSi to pay for a friend, upon one tract of a thou-
sand acres amounted to twelve and a half cents. Living is
cheap, and quite as good as it is cheap — the best of board being
obtained at ^1,50 per week. In fine, for the angler and hunter
Randolph county is, in my opinion, the most interesting single
county in the United States.

miK

THE CHEAT RIVER COUNTRY.

I AM writing this letter from a capital tavern, known far and
wide over this country as the " Mountain Retreat," kept by
Mr. Edward Towers, and situated on a beautiful slope of culti-
vated land, near the summit of the Alleghany Mountains. But
before proceeding to speak of this place and vicinity as I in-
tend, I must briefly record the substance of my observations
since I left Beverly. The ride thither is some sixty miles in
length, and for the most part through a cheerless and ur inter-
esting country, both as regards the scenery and the fertility of
the soil. Farms are indeed scattered here and there afong the
road, but they have, as it were, been whittled out of the solid
forest, and are what the people of the West term dead clear-
ings. The common log-house is almost the only kind of habi-
tation here met with, and the majority of these are poorly and
carelessly built. They usually contain but two rooms, one com-
prising the whole of the first floor, and a garret to which you
ascend by a common ladder. With regard to location, however,
these cabins are almost invariably upon agreeable and appro-
priate spots : sometimes by a spring in a lonely ravine of the
mountains, sometimes by a rivulet on an elevated hill-side, and
sometimes upon the extreme summit of a mountain, with a
grassy lawn around, whence may be seen a world of rank and
rolling luxuriance, receding to the sky. The people are ignor-
ant, so far as book-learning is concerned, but they are well sup-
plied with common sense, and are industrious enough to deserve
better success than the most of them enjoy. In religion they
are usually Methodists and Baptists, and quite as consistent iu

THE CHEAT RIVER COUNTRY.

601

their manner of life as the better informed in other sections of
the country ; and I deem it a singular fact that an execution
for murder is said never to have occurred in the county of Ran-
dolph. The exports of this region in any branch of husbandry,
I should imagine to be extremely limited ; the inhabitants seem
to make it a point to live upon their own resources as much as
possible. To hoard up money is by no means a ruling passion
with the majority; if they can secure enough of the solids and
really good things of life, they are contented and happy. To
the extent of their means they are hospitable ; and I have really
imagined, from what I have seen of Virginia, that for a true
Virginian to be compelled to be otherwise than hospitable would
render him truly wretched.

About midway between Beverly and this place, the winding
road by which I came, crosses the Cheat river, and at this point
I spent a very agreeable night as the gueat of Mr. William
Ewins. The contrast which his comfortable frame house, well
cultivated farm, good collection of books, and pretty children,
sporting upon a velvety lawn, presented, to what I had recently
witnessed among the mountains, was quite refreshing. I found
him a man of superior intelligence, and devoting himself to the
making of surveying instruments, in which department of me-
chanical labor he is so much of an adept as to receive, in spite
of his out-of-the-way residence, a g )d deal of patronage from
the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad Company. The Cheat river,
opposite his residence, is rather a large stream, and might, as
he informed me, with little expense be made navigable to this
point for keel boats. On my way from Mr. Ewins' residence
to this place, I met with only one incident worth recording ;
my bridle path led me for a considerable distance up a little
stream of pure water, in one of the pools of which while seated
upon my horse, I caught no less tlian twenty-six trout.

And now for a paragraph or so about the Retreat where I
am spending a little leisure time most pleasantly. It is, in the
first place, situated on the Northwestern Turnpike, and com-
mands a most interesting view of a wild mountain land, broken
so fur as the cj'o can discern, by only two cultivated farms

502

THE CHEAT RIVER COUNTRY.

which resemble garden flats, fai aore than they do extensive fields
where cattle might graze by the thousand. The air is salu-
brious to an uncommon degree, and the sunrise as well as the
sunset scenes which may frequently be witnessed are imposing
and beautiful. Among the many attractions of the place, or
accessible therefrom, in the way of natural scenery, are the
Back Bone Mountain, the North Potomac and ths Falls of the
Black Water. The first is the highest pinnacle of this portion
of the AUeghanies, and commands a view not only of a g''''^at
world of mountains, fading, ridge beyond ridge, to the western
sky, but also of that extensive and unique glade country,
watered by the Youghicgany. This mountain, distant some
two miles, is covered with a luxuriant growth of oak and other
hard woods, and affords as fine red deer and in as great abun-
dance as any other part of Maryland ; in testimony of which
assertion, I may mention that in passing down one of its ravines
yesterday I saw a herd of some twenty of these lovely creatures
and it was not long thereafter before my ears were saluted
by a strain of rich and deep music from a pack of hounds, the
baying melody echoing into the deepest solitudes of the old
hills. And to those who can appreciate the ten thousand
charms of a wild and clear, and cold, and rapid stream, winding
and singing among the mountains, here is the Potomac, only half a
mile away. The splendid career of this stream, through one of
the richest coal mines of the world, through the gorge of Harper's
Ferry, past the metropolis of our land, and by the sacred soil
of Mount Vernon, had led me to imagine its fountain head to
be something particularly interesting, and I have not been dis-
appointed. Lovely indeed are the pools that here invite the
bather into their amber bosoms, and, as to the trout which chey
harbor, these are almost as abundart as the pebbles of the
stream- With regard to the Falls of the Black Water, a tri-
butary of Cheat river, I Vave to state that they are distant some
fifteen miles, and ut the end of a particularly rough tramp, but
will well repay the visitor for any fatigue he may experience.
The stream is quite large, and within the space of one mile, q.nd
in the deep gloom of spruce and hemlock forests sweeping

THE CHEAT RIVER COUNTRY.

503

steeply down to either bank, and dashing its foam against stu-
pendous rocks, all green with mosses, it has a series cf falls and
rapids whose aggregate descent has been estimated at five hun-
dred feet, while there are a number of perpendicular pitches
that would measure from thirty to fifty feet. The waters of
the stream are of a very dark hue, but translucent, extremely
cold, and superabound in the finest of trout.

Another attraction of the Mountain Retreat to the scenery-
loving tourist, or those who may visit it for the purposes of
hunting and fishing, or to invigorate their heajth by its pore
air, is the character of the landlord's table. This is indeed al!
that could be desired by the lover of variety or the most fasti-
dious ; the viands arc not only first rate, but are placed upon
the table in a manner which I by no means expected in so
isolated a spot ; and, what is more, the best of wines are always
obtainable.

But this place 'n also an attractive on<f to those who have a
taste for businesfi, especially that kind resulting from the driv-
ing of cattle from Ohio to the Eastern cities. The farm attached
to the Retreat contains some sixteen hundred acres, and,
(though rich in the two minerals of iron and coal) affords every
facility for the feeding of cattle, and is, consequently, a resting-
place for the western drovers. At this very moment, as I look
out upon the surrounding fields, I can discern, here a herd of
two hundred fat cattle, there a flock of five hundred sheep, and
yondar a drove of four hundred hogs, all from the Ohio river,
and bound to the Washington and Baltimore markets. The
drovers are a unique class of men, dressing in home-spun clothes,
riding the best of horses, and remarkably sagacious in making
bargains. Some of them are the owners of fine grazing farms
on the Ohio river, raise their own cattle, and drive them to
market ; while others are merely speculators in live stock, buy-
ing and selling as best they may, and therefore spending the
most of their time upon the road. The distances which they
accomplish in a day with fat cattle vary from ten to fifteen
miles ; and I am informed that it is <;[uite common for the dro-
vers upon this turnpike to take their living merchandise even

504

THE CHEAT RIVER COUNTRY.

as far M the cities of Philaflelphia and New York. Indeed,
taking all thing:- into coiisirier.?.tioi?, I deem my present stop-
ping-place one of th" vr.oat desirable in the whole State of Vir-
ginia, for those wlio would eiicapt f'r ! a the pent-up city during
the summer moiths, with a view of f njtying the country and giv-
ing new life to thv^ir physical energies.

BUFFALO GLADE.

I AM now writing from the Glade country of Maryland, which
I have explored pretty thoroughly, and with which I have been
much pleased. Its extent is some twenty miles from north to
south, and about five miles from east to west, and is watered
exclusively by the Upper Youghiogheny and its tributaries. The
glades are of -various sizes, and have impressed me with the
idea tLat they were once a succession of lakes, the waters of
which, by some caprice of nature, having been drawn off into
the great valley of the Mississippi, have left their basins co-
vered with a carpet of luxuriant grass, here and there relieved
by islands of white oak trees and of alder and cranberry bushes.
The hills and mountains which surround them are covered with
forests of oak, sloping gently and gracefully to the margins of
the glades, seeming never to trespass a single rood beyond the
limits allotted to them by taste ; but I have observed that, when
descending the ravines which sometimes load into the glades,
the pathway lies through a forest of exceedingly dense and
lofty pines, where perpetual gloom reigns supreme, and the air
is heavy with sweet odors peculiar to these woods. Not a sin-
gle glade have I yet seen which is not watered by a lovely
stream, and, as these abound in trout, they may well bo deemed
almost the paradise of fly-fishing anglers. All the glades are
" beautiful exceedingly," and present the appearance of a highly
cultivated country ; but while some of them are the home of
solitude, and only inhabited by the feathered tribes, the hawk,
the meadow lark, and the glorious mocking-bird being the
rulers. Others are enlivened by the habitations of mini, and

506

BUFFALO GLADE.

often there comes to the ear, borne sweetly along the peaceful
air, the tinkling of sheep-bells and the lowing of distant herds.
During all the vernal months these pastoral or arcadian vales
are uncommonly green, and, when the surrounding hills are
glowing with the crimson and golden hues of ax tumn, their
emerald beauty is said to be like the work of enchantment.
The grasses. which they yield grow to the height of four and
five feet, and, when salted, yield a most valuable hay. As a
matter of course, therefore, the glade country is emphatically
a grazing country, and, judging from the few experiments which
have been made, it is certain that the raising of cattle might
here be pursued (;o immense advantage ; indeed, as a source of
wealth, the gladtiS are rapidly rising into the first importance,
and upon some of them, I am informed, two thousand cattle
have recently been herded, previous to being taken to market.
And it has occurred to me that when the Baltimore and Ohio
Railroad shall have been completed across this glade country,
as it will be during the present year, its agricultural resources
will not only be more fully appreciated and employed, but it
will become a popular summer resort for the inhabitants of
Baltimore, a number of whose wealthy citizens are already be-
ginning to erect in this region, villas and other country resi-
dences. As to the climate, it is said to be unsurpassed for its
salubrity and life-strengthening qualities.

As inseparably identified with the Glades of Maryland, I
must not forget tc pay a passing tribute to the river Youghio-
gheny. It is quite as picturesque and charming a stream as I
have yet explored, and waters almost an unbroken wilderness.
It is clear and rapid, has a number of interesting falls, and
contains trout in the greatest abundance. It derives its sin-
gular name from the exclamation of Yough, which is said to
have been made by an Indian, who, during the earlier war, was
shot by a white man while swimming the river after committing
a murderous assault upon his family.

My ride through the glades has been attended with no per-
sonal adventures, excepting in the way of rare trout fishing,
and these I must reserve for the benefit especially of my

BUFFALO GLADE.

507

s, and

memory, when I shall have returned to my city life. I have,
however, stumbled upon one or two bits of personal history
which are worth recording.

The first has reference to an elderly lady and a widow, re-
siding on Deep Creek glade, in whose house I was for a short
time hospitably entertained. In the course of an hour's con-
versation with her,' I ascertained that she was born and mar-
ried in the town of Amherst, Massachusetts. Her husband was
in comfortable circumstances, but having, about thirty years
ago, entered into a land speculation, whereby he became the
proprietor of seven thousand acres on the Kanawha river,
in Virginia, he emigrated to that country. After once paying
for this land, the titles were disputed, and he paid for it a
second time ; he then resided upon a portion of it for ten years,
when its title was again disputed and it was wrested from him.
He and his helpmate longed for their home in New England,
but had too much pride to return ; and so they settled in this
wild section of the Alleghany mountains, where, after the
genuine New England fashion, they surmounted every obstacle
to success, and raised a family of a dozen sons and daughters,
who are now the comforts of the widow in her old age. She
spoke to me in the most affectionate terms of her children, and
seemed deeply thankful for the many blessings she had enjoyed ;
but wJien she spoke of her departed husband, and the home of
her chUdhood, there was a pathos in her words which did not
require the tears she shed to make them affecting in the ex-
treme.

The other item of personal history which I would mention is
connected with a venerable gentleman, who might with pro-
priety be termed The Hermit Philosopher of the Alleghanies.
His name is John McHenry, the family to which he belongs
being one of the most ancient and respectable of Mary-'
land. He commenced life under the guidance of his uncle
James McHenry, (who was secretary of war under Washing-
ton,) and he entered upon the profession of the law, wherein
he acquitted himself with gk'eat credit. Becoming tired of
practice, he turned his attention to reporting, and under his

508

BUFFALO GLADE.

hand, assisted by Thomas Harris, came into existence that cele-
brated series of Maryland Law Reports, embracing the most
important land and other cases that had been decided in the
Provincial Court and Court of Appeals, from the year 1700
down to the American Revolution and subsequently to the
year 1800. He is also the author of a valuable work on the
Ejectment Law of Maryland. In 1820, <5r abovt that time,
ho became tired of the world, as that expression is commonly
understood, or rather perhaps, fell in love with the wilderness,
and retired to the solitude of the Alleghany mountains, where
he has since resided. He is the owner of an extensive domain,
comprehending a number of beautiful glades, the whole of
which he seems anxious to preserve as he received it from the
hand of Nature, instead of mutilating it to an undue extent
with the plough. Being independent in circumstances and
having a wife who sympathizes with him in his refined tastes,
ho has surrounded himself with all that can render the life of
an educated recluse pleasant and profitable ; a comfortable
dwelling, with convenient out-houses, a perpetually replenished
larder, with good cooks and faithful servants, and a well-
selected library.

In every particular, Mr. McHenry is a first-rate specimen
of that rapidly-diminishing class of Americans, denominated
"gentlemen of the old school ;" and, on presenting to him my
letter of introduction, I was quite fascinated with his elegant
bearing, while my love for the picturesque in costume was gra-
tified by his morning-gown and the William Penn hat which
surmounted his snowy head of hair. I was welcomed with the
heartiest cordiality, and am still a guest under his roof, and I
regret that the customs of polite society will not permit me to
speak of him as I could desire. He has been an extensive
traveller in Europe and the United States, and alleges that he
has never breathed an atmosphere equal in healthfulness to
that of the Alleghany glade country. In politics he is a
genuine Federalist, and an enthusiastic admirer of Washington
and his noble contemporaries. Though a devoted lover of the
wilderness, he was never a follower of the chase, and but little

BUFFALO GLADE.

509

of an angler ; his manner of life has been strictly sedentary,
and, having ever been animated by a never-satisfied thirst for
knowledge, he has been and is an extensive devourer of books,
which he has the ability to master in some half dozen lan-
guages. Though partial to solitude, he is fond of company ;
and nothing seems to afford him more pleasure than the tender-
ing of his hospitality to those who journey in his vicinity. He
is quite satisfied with his lot, as well he may be, and has play-
fully expressed the idea that he would be perfectly happy, had
he but one neighbor as lazy as himself, and could he but
aiTord to subscribe for all the more prominent periodicals of
the world.

THE CUMBERLAND REGION.

A RIDG of some twenty miles from the Buffalo Glade, down
the Youghiogheny, brought me to the National road, connecting
the Ohio river with the Potomac, over which, in a coach and
four, I was brought to the town of Cumberland, or city as it
should be called. With the celebrated national road alluded
to, I was disappointed ; for when I remembered the immense
sums of money expended upon it since the year 1806, amount-
ing to more than a million and a half of dollars, I expected to
ride over something particularly fine ; but I found it, for the
most part, rougher than a common road, and in a dilapidated
condition. The public means of conveyance upon it, however,
are numerous and comfortable, and the scenery through which
it runs is quite interesting. With that portion of the scenery,
and the road lying between Frostburg and this town, I was
really delighted. The distatice is only eleven miles, and yet
the descent to Cumberland is some sixteen hundred feet, and
this stage, when coming down, is generally accomplished in one
hour.

Cumberland, in many particulars, is an attractive place. It
stands on the southern bank of the Potomac, and is partly
hemmed in with mountains, while the scenery lying to the
westward is bold and imposing ; that to the eastward is simply
beautiful. Its two principal hotels are spacious and comfort-
able, and its churches commodious and ornamental ; the most
pictur^que being a gothic Episcopal church, occupying the site
of Fort Cumberland, of ante-revolutionary fame. The inhabi-
tants of the town, who now number upwards of six thousand,

THE CUMBERLAND REGION.

511

le, do^n
[meeting
>ach and
ity as it
I alluded
immense
amount-
)ected to
, for the
Eipidatcd
lowever,
;h which
[scenery,
I was
[and yet
feet, and
3d in one

lace. It
partly
to the
Is simply
Icomfort-
the most
the site
inhabi-
lousand,

seem to be a remarkably industrious and enterprising class of
people, and I can see no reason why they should not, in time,
build up a splendid city, as a mart for the mountain country of
Maryland, Pennsylvania and Virginia. Its means of commu-
nication with the world are already manifold, for it has a canal
binding it to the metropolis of the Union, as well as to tide-
water navigation ; a railroad connecting it with Baltimore, the
third city in the Union ; and a turnpike leading to the waters
flowing into the Mississippi ; besides a number of plank and
other roads, making it accessible to the rich agricultural regions
of Pennsylvania, as well as to the celebrated Springs of Bed-
ford, in the same state ; besides which, the great railroad which
is to connect it with the Ohio is rapidly advancing.

But that which makes Cumberland a busy place at the pre-
sent time, and will undoubtedly build it up to considerable opu-
lence, is the wealth of the neighboring country in coal. This
coal region has been estimated to contain an area of one hun-
dred and fifty square miles, 'mmediately in the heart of the
Alleghany mountains, and ih quality of the mineral has been
pronounced superior in many respects to that found in any
other mines east of the Alleghany mountains. The term " first
rate" has been applied to the Cumberland coal by all who have
used it, especially in regard to its evaporative powers ; and
though called a bituminous coal, it is in reality a dry and close-
burning coal, intermediate between the fat bituminous of Pitts-
burg, and the anthracite coals of Eastern Pennsylvania. The
vertical depth of the Cumberland coal basin, including the
strata peculiar to the coal formation, is about fifteen hundred
feet, resting upon the mill stone grit. The number of distinct
veins in the basin, is fifteen, and the seams vary in thjckness
from five to fifty feet ; many of them are exposed to view on
the hill-sides, but more particularly in the deep ravines through
which flow the various streams, and are, therefore, easy of
access to the miners, who pursue their operations at compara-
tively little expense. The coal is brought to the slypping
depots in Cumberland from the principal mines, over two lines
of railroads, at an expense of about fifty cents per ton, and it

512

THE CUMBERLAND REGION.

is estimated that these roads are capable of transporting one
and a half millions of tons per annum. With regard to the
richness'of the Cumberland coal region, it may be mentioned
that statistical gentlemen have estimated that it 'will more than
supply the entire jvorld for about forty thousand years, which I
should imagine quite long enough for the present, and one or
two more generations, however "fast" the times may be. As
to the capital now employed in mining for coal, the most of it
comes from tho capitalists of New York, Boston and Baltimore;
and the principal companies now doing business arc the " New
York Mining Company," " Maryland Mining Company,"
" Alleghany Mining Company," "Washington Coal Company,"
"Frostburg Coal Company," "Mount Savage Iron Company,"
" George's Creek Coal and Iron Company," " Borden Mining
Company," "Parker Mining Company," "Cumberland Coal
and Iron Company, "Wither's Mining Company," and "Astor
Mining Company." Speculation in coal lands has ever kept
pace with the legitimate business of mining, and, in spite of the
impositions which have heretofore been practised by speculators,
the rage for this species of business still continues, and many,
by imprudent hazards, often become victims to its folly.

Heretofore the mineral treasures of Cumberland have had
but one outlet to market — that furnished by the Baltimore and
Ohio Railroad ; but since the completion of the great Chesa-
peake and Ohio Canal, extending from Washington to Cumber-
land, with the Branch Canal to Alexandria, a far more exten-
sive means of transportation has gone into operation. The
ontire length of this canal is one hundred and eighty-six miles,
and running as it does, for the most part, directly along the
northei^n bank of the beautiful Potomac, it Avinds its way
through a great variety of interesting scenery. The locks of
the canal number no less than seventy-five, and the culverts
over which it passes one hundred and seventy, and through one
tunnel a third of a mile long. Boats carrying one hundred
tons, navigate it with great ease, and it is supposed that boats
of one hundred and thirty tons will find no difficulty in passing
freely through all the locks. The first series of resolutions

THE CtMBEULAND REGION.

513

bve had
(re and
Chcaa-
luniber-
exten-
The
miles,
ing the
8 way
icka of
iulverts
[igh one
jundrcd
It boats
lassing
•lutious

adopted in favor of building this canal, were passed^ by a con-
vention of delegates, held in Washington in 1823 — the'Jnember»
of which, numbering some two hundred, were from ViVgini*,.
Maryland, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and the District of ColumBit^^
The entire estimated cost to the Ohio river, was $32,000,00(1,
and the real cost to Cumberland, its present terminus, has been
about $16,000,000. The ground was broken on the 4th of
Ju]y, 1828, and the first spade-full of earth was taken up by
the President of the United States, John Quincy Adams, in
the presence of his cabinet, and a large concourse of spectators
from the cities of the District and surrounding country. The
speech made by the President on the occasion, was one of his
happiest efforts, most appropriate and eloquent, and is only to
be found reported, I believe, in the columns of the National
Intelligencer. That portion of the canal extending to Alex-
andria was completed during the year 1844, and its moat im-
portant feature, the lofty aqueduct, spanning the Potomac at
Georgetown, is a masterly specimen of engineering ability, and
a model piece of workmanship. Its piers, I am informed, are
thirty-two feet under water, and in this respect it surpasses any
other work of the kind in the world. Col. Turnbuli, of the
Topographical corps, was the engineer, who, under immense
difiiculties, constructed this remarkable aqueduct.

As to the scenery of that portion of the Potomac running
parallel with the great canal, I can only say, ift a general way,
that it compares favorably with that of »ny other river in our
land <f beautiful rivers. The fertile country which it waters,
is thickly inhabited by a worthy yeomanry, bu« the imme«Kate
banks of the river are everywhere as wild and picturesque as
in the olden times. Broad reaches of still water nov remind
you of a newly- discovered lake, and then again you hear the dash-
ing of the waters, as they flow beneath impc.uiing rocky barriers,
where vines, and mosses, and mineral drippings have produced
pictures of surpassing beauty ; at one place the stream, more
deep than usual, murmurs sullenly, as if displeased to find a
dozen charming islands attempting to block its passage to the sea,
while at another point, it fidgets itself into a broad sheet of
88

514

THE CUMBERLAND REGION.

foam, as it passes over a shallow covered with boulders and
pebbles innumerable. Jefferson and Volney have written in
praise of that Spot where the Shenandoah comes to the help of
the Potomac, in forcing a channel through the Blue Ridge
Mountains, and I need not add mj mite of applause ; but the
softer scenery, associated with the mouths of the Monocacy and
Seneca tributaries, are to me more loveable. For effects
''grand, gloomy and peculiar," the Grand Falls of the Poto-
mac ought not to remain unvisited by any true lover of nature ;
nor the Little Falls, which are more humble in their preten-
sions, but not to be despised.

And now, with this paragraph, I bring the running account
of my mountain tour from Winchester to Cumberland to a close.
Unforseen circumstances have compelled me to travel more
rapidly than I could have desired, and I have really not had
the time to indite such letters as I might have done. I have
recorded enough, however, to convince lay readers that the upper
Potomac or River of Swans, as the aborigines called it, is a
stream to be loved and remembered with pleasure and pride.

END OF VOL. I.