The Great Lone Land: A Narrative of Travel and Adventure in the North-West of AmericaButler, William Francis, Sir
History
The Great Lone Land: A Narrative of Travel and Adventure in the North-West of America
Butler, William Francis, Sir
Northwest, Canadian -- Description and travel
"There's got to be a Boss City hereaway on this end of the lake," said
the captain of the little boat; and though he spoke with much labour of
imprecation, both needless then and now, taking what might be termed a
cursory view of the situation, he summed up the prospects of Duluth
conclusively and clearly enough.
I cannot say I enjoyed a stay of two days in Duluth. Several new saloons
(name for dram-shops, gaming-houses, and generally questionable places)
were being opened for the first time to the public, and free drinks were
consequently the rule. Now "free drinks" have generally a demoralizing
tendency upon a community, but taken in connexion with a temperature of
98 degrees in the shade, they quickly develop into free revolvers and
freer bowie-knives. Besides, the spirit of speculation was rampant in the
hotel, and so many men had corner lots, dock locations, pine forests, and
pre-empted lands to sell me, that nothing but flight prevented my
becoming a large holder of all manner of Duluth securities upon terms
that, upon the clearest showing, would have been ridiculously favourable
to me. The principal object of my visit to Duluth was to discover if any
settlement existed at the Vermilion Lakes, eighty miles to the north and
not far from the track of the Expedition, a place which had been named to
the military authorities in Canada as likely to form a base of attack for
any filibusters who would be adventurous enough to make a dash at the
communication of the expeditionary force. A report of the discovery of
gold and silver mines around the Vermilion Lakes had induced a rush of
miners there during the previous year; but the mines had all "bust up,"
and the miners had been blown away to other regions, leaving the plant
and fixtures of quartz-crushing machinery standing drearily in the
wilderness. These facts I ascertained from the engineer, who had
constructed a forest track from Duluth to the mines, and into whose
office I penetrated in quest of information. He, too, looked upon me as a
speculator.
"Don't mind them mines," he said, after I had questioned him on all
points of distance and road; "don't touch them mines; they're clean gone
up. The gold in them mines don't amount to a row of pines, and there's
not a man there now."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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