Fond du Lac. At this point our course changed from northwest to south-southwest.

The sandstone formation here showed itself for the last time. The shore soon assumes a diluvial character, bordered with long lines of yellow sand and pebbles. In some places, heavy beds of pure iron sand were observed. The agitation which marked the lake soon subsided, under the change of wind, and our men seemed determined, by the diligence with which they worked, to make amends for our delay at Sandy River.

At eight o'clock in the evening we came to Cranberry River and encamped, having, by their estimation, come twenty-three miles. The evening was perfectly clear and calm, with a striking twilight, which was remarked all night. These lengthened twilights form a very observable feature as we proceed north. Mackenzie says that, in lat. 67° 47', on the 11th of July, 1789, he saw the sun above the horizon at twelve o'clock P. M.

The calmness and beauty of the night, and our chief's anxiety to press forward, made this a short night. Gen. Cass aroused the camp at a very early hour, so that at three o'clock we were again upon the lake, urging our way up the Fond du Lac Bay. The sun rose above the horizon at ten minutes before four o'clock. The morning was clear and brilliant. Not a cloud obscured the sky, and the waves of the lake spread out with the brightness of a mirror. At the distance of five leagues, we passed the mouth of the Wisakoda, or Broule River,* a stream which forms the connecting link with the Mississippi River, through the St. Croix. Three miles beyond this point we landed a short time, on the shore, where we observed a stratum of iron sand, pure and black, a foot in thickness.

* WISACODA, or BROULE RIVER.-On returning down the Mississippi River, from the exploration of its sources, in 1832, I ascended the River St. Croix quite to its source in St. Croix Lake. A short portage, across a sandy summit, terminated at the head springs of the Wisacoda, which, from a very narrow and tortuous channel, is soon increased in volume by tributaries, and becomes a copious stream. Thus swelled in volume, it is dashed down an inclined plane, for nearly seventy miles, over which it roars and foams with the impetuosity of a torrent. It is not till within a few miles of Lake Superior that it becomes still and deep. The entire length of the river may be estimated at one hundred miles. It has two hundred and forty distinct rapids, at some of which the river sinks its level from eight to ten feet. It cannot fall, in this distance, less than 500. That it should ever have been used in the fur trade, is to be explained by the fact that it has much water.

At eleven o'clock, a northeast wind arose, which enabled the expedition to hoist sail. Land on the north shore had for some time been in sight, across the bay, and the line of coast soon closed in front, denoting that we had reached the head of the lake. At twelve o'clock, we entered the mouth of the River St. Louis, having been eighteen days in passing this lake, including the trip to the Ontonagon.

Before quitting Lake Superior, whose entire length we have now traversed, one or two generic remarks may be made; and the first respects its aboriginal name. The Algonquins, who, in the Chippewa tribe, were found in possession of it, on the arrival of the French, early in the seventeenth century, applied the same radical word to it which they bestow on the sea, namely, Gum-ee (Collected water), or, as it is sometimes pronounced, Gom-ee, or Go-ma; with this difference, that the adjective big (gitchè) prefixed to this term for Lake Superior, is repeated when it is applied to the sea. The superlative is formed when it is meant to be very emphatic, in this language, by the repetition of the adjective; a principle, indeed, quite common to the Indian grammars generally. The word did not commend itself to French or English ears, so much as to lead to its adoption. By taking the syllable Al from Algonquin, as a prefix, instead of gitchè, we have the more poetic combination of Algoma.

Geographers have estimated the depth of this lake at nine hundred feet. By the surveys of the engineers of the New York and Erie Canal, the surface of Lake Erie is shown to be five hundred and sixty feet above tide-water, which, agreeably to estimates kept on the present journey, lies fifty-two feet below the level of Lake Superior. These data would carry the bottom of the lake two hundred and eighty-eight feet below tide water. What is more certain is this, that it has been the theatre of ancient volcanic action, which has thrown its trap-rocks into high precipices around its northern shores and some of its islands, and lifted up vast ranges of sandstone rocks into a vertical position, as is seen at the base of the Porcupine Mountains. Its latest action appears to have been in its western portion, as is proved by the upheaval of the horizontal strata; and it may be inferred that its bed is very rough and unequal.

The western termination of the lake, in the great bay of Fond du Lac, denotes a double or masked shore, which appears to have

been formed of pebbles and sands, driven up by the tempests, at the distance of a mile or two, outside of the original shore. The result is shown by an elongated piece of water, resembling a lake, which receives at the north, the River St. Louis, and the Agoche, or Lefthand River, at its south extremity.

About three miles above the mouth of the river, we landed at a Chippewa village. While exchanging the usual salutations with them, we noticed the children of an African, who had intermarried with this tribe. These children were the third in descent from Bongo, a freed man of a former British commanding officer at the Island of Michilimackinac. They possessed as black skins as the father, a fact which may be accounted for by observing, what I afterwards learned, that the marriages were, in the case of the grandfather and father, with the pure Indian, and not with Africano-Algonquin blood; so that there had been no direct advance in the genealogical line.

The St. Louis River discharges a large volume of water, and is destined hereafter to be a port of entry for the lake shipping, but at present it has shoals of sand at its mouth which would bar the entrance of large vessels. Proceeding up the river, we found it very serpentine, and abounding in aquatic plants, portions of it yielding the wild rice. At the computed distance of twenty-four miles, we reached the establishment of the American Fur Company. It was seven o'clock when we came to the place, where we encamped.

Lake Superior is called by the Chippewas a sea.

The superficial area of the lake has been computed by Mr. Darby at a little under nine hundred billions of feet, and its depth at nine hundred feet. By the latest surveys and estimate, the altitude of Lake Superior above tide water, is about six hundred and forty feet.* Allowing Mr. Darby's computation to be correct, this would sink its bed far below the surface of the Atlantic.

This lake has been the theatre of very extensive volcanic action. Vast dykes of trap traverse its northern shores. One of the principal of these has apparently extended across its bed, from northeast to southwest, to the long peninsula of Keweena, producing at the same time, the elevated range of the Okaug

* Vide Appendix.

Mountains. One of the most remarkable features of these dykes is the numerous and extensive veins of native copper which characterize them. Subsequent convulsions, and the demolition of these ancient dykes, by storms and tempests, have scattered along its shores abundant evidence of the metal and its ores and veinstones, which have attracted notice from the earliest time. The geology of its southern coasts may be glanced at, and inferred, from the subjoined outlines.

Porcupine Mountain Range.

Le Pointe.

Fond du Lac.

Geological outline of Lake Superior.

The teachings of topography, applied to commerce, are wonderful. A longitudinal line, dropped south, from this point, would cross the Mississippi at the foot of Lake Pepin, and pass through Jefferson city on the Missouri. When, therefore, a ship canal shall be made at St. Mary's Falls, vessels of large tonnage may sail from Oswego (by the Welland canal) and Buffalo, through a line of inter-oceanic seas, nearer to the foot of the Rocky Mountains, by several hundred miles, than by any other possible route. A railroad line from Fond du Lac west to the Columbia valley, would also form the shortest and most direct transit route from the Pacific to New York. Such a road would have the advantage of passing through a region favorable to agriculture, which cannot but develop abundant resources.

CHAPTER VIII.

Proceed up the St. Louis River, and around its falls and rapids to Sandy Lake in the valley of the Upper Mississippi-Grand Portage-Portage aux Coteaux-A sub-exploring party-Cross the great morass of Akeek Scepi to Sandy LakeIndian mode of pictographic writing-Site of an Indian jonglery-Post of Sandy Lake.

WE had now reached above nine hundred and fifty miles from our starting-point at Detroit, and had been more than forty days in traversing the shores of Lakes Huron and Superior. July had already commenced, and no time was to be lost in reaching our extreme point of destination. Every exertion was therefore made to push ahead. By ten o'clock of the morning after our arrival at the Fond du Lac post, we embarked, and after going two miles reached the foot of the first rapids of the St. Louis. This spot is called the commencement of the Grand Portage-over this path all the goods, provisions, and canoes are to be carried by hand nine miles. During this distance, the St. Louis River, a stream of prime magnitude, bursts through the high trap range of what Bouchette calls the Cabotian Mountains, being a continuation of the upheavals of the north shore of Lake Superior, the river leaping and foaming, from crag to crag, in a manner which creates some of the most grand and picturesque views. We sometimes stood gazing at their precipices and falls, with admiration, and often heard their roar on our path, when we were miles away from them. Capt. Douglass estimated the river to fall one hundred and eight feet during the first nine miles; and from estimates furnished me by Dr. Wolcott, the aggregate fall from the mouth of the Savannè, to that point, is two hundred and twelve feet. We found the first part of the ascent of its banks very precipitous and difficult, particularly for the men who bore burdens, and what rendered the labor almost insupportable was