Summary Narrative of an Exploratory Expedition to the Sources of the Mississippi River, in 1820: Resumed and Completed, by the Discovery of its Origin in Itasca Lake, in 1832Schoolcraft, Henry Rowe
History
Summary Narrative of an Exploratory Expedition to the Sources of the Mississippi River, in 1820: Resumed and Completed, by the Discovery of its Origin in Itasca Lake, in 1832
Schoolcraft, Henry Rowe
Great Lakes (North America); Mississippi River -- Sources; Northwest, Old -- Description and travel
the first of these, after ascending the left hand, or minor fork, I
bestowed the name of Marquette; and on the second, that of La Salle. We
proceeded beyond these to a third lake of larger dimension, which the
Chippewas call Kubba-Kunna, or the Rest in the Path, being the site of
crossing of one of their noted land-trails; I named it Lake Plantagenet.
Lt. Allen deemed this lake ten miles long and five wide. At a point a
short distance above the head of this lake, we encamped at a late hour.
It was now seven o'clock P. M., and we had been in our canoes sixteen
hours, and travelled fifty-five miles. It was not easy to find ground
dry enough to encamp on, and while we were searching for it, rain
commenced. We had pushed through the ample borders of the Scirpus
lacustris and other aquatic plants, to a point of willows, alders, and
spruce and tamarack, with pinus banksiana in the distance. The ground
was low and wet, the foot sinking into a carpet of green moss at every
tread. The lower branches of the trees were dry and dead, exhibiting
masses of flowing gray moss. Dampness, frigidity, and gloom marked the
dreary spot, and when a camp fire had been kindled it threw its red
glare around on strange masses of thickets and darkness, which might
have well employed the pencil of a Michael Angelo. Tired and overwearied
men are not, however, much given to the poetic on these occasions, and
they addressed themselves at once to the pacification of that uneasy
organ, the stomach. Travelling with men who strangely mix up two foreign
languages, one falls insensibly into the same jargon habits, of which I
convicted myself of a notable instance this evening. I had on landing
and pushing into the forest, laid a green morocco portfolio on the
branches of a little spruce, and could not find it. _Kewau bemuasee_, I
said to one of the men, _en petite chose ver, mittig onsing_? Have you
not seen a small green roll in a sapling? not recollecting that the
middle clause of the sentence, though in regimen with the Ojibwa, could
have only been construed by one familiar both with the Canadian French
and the Algonquin. Such, however, proved to be the case, and he soon
handed me the missing portfolio.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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