Interval of the banks of the Mississippi, between the mouths of the River De Corbeau and St. Croix, adverted to.—Plains above St. Anthony’s Falls, agricultural.—Fact respecting the recession of the bison.—Geological change in the character of the Mississippi, in crossing 45 deg. parallel.—Fort Snelling.—Council.—Reach the mouth of the St. Croix.—Picturesque character of St. Croix Lake.—Traits of its natural history.—Encamp near a diminutive kind of barrows.—“Standing Cedars.”—An Indian trader.—Green-stone rock.—Falls of the St. Croix.—Traditionary account of an ancient Indian battle, fought at these falls by the Chippewas, Saucs, Foxes, and Sioux.—Wahb Ojeeg.

That portion of the Upper Mississippi, lying between the junction of the De Corbeau and St. Anthony’s Falls, presents to the eye a succession of prairie and forest land, which has the characteristics of a valuable agricultural country. It is difficult in passing it, to resist the idea, that it will, at some future day, sustain a dense population. It is so elevated above the bed of the Mississippi, as to be out of the reach of its periodical floods. The banks are rendered permanent by resting upon a basis of fixed rocks, (the primitive,) which appear in the channel of the river. The soil is arable upland, apparently light, but of that ferruginous character, which has turned out so durable and fertile in Michigan. Like the prairies of the latter, the plough might be set in motion, without the labor of clearing and grubbing, and a farm reclaimed with no additional labor but that of fencing. Wood is often wanting on the immediate margin of the river. It is not always so; and when thus wanting, forests may be observed on the hilly grounds, at a distance. Wild hay might be cut in any quantity. It is among the facts which mark the natural history of the region, that the buffalo, or more strictly speaking, the bison, which fed on these plains, in 1820, has not appeared here since. The Virginia deer and the elk are, however, still abundant. The absence of lime stone will probably prove the most formidable bar to its settlement. Nothing of this kind is found except in its southern borders. There appears to be no formations of rock elevated above the soil, but the limited district called the Pètites Roches. And the strata here are exclusively referable to the primitive series.

The entrances of a small river called Nokassippi, about two hundred miles above St. Anthony’s Falls, may be considered as the termination of this tract. Above this point, although the Mississippi has some rich alluvions, as at the mouth of Sandy Lake River, its vegetation assumes generally an alpine character, and a large portion of the wide area of its valley, is traversed by pine ridges, with innumerable intervening lakes, and extensive tracts of, what the natives denominate, mushkeegs.

On crossing through the forty-fifth parallel of latitude, the Mississippi exhibits a change in the materials of its banks preparatory to its entering the limestone region. This is first rendered strikingly visible on the rapids immediately above the Falls of St. Anthony. The fall itself is an imposing exhibition of geological scenery. The river here sinks its level about forty feet, in the distance of, say 1,500 yards.[20] Sixteen feet of this has been estimated to consist of a perpendicular fall, reaching, with irregularities from shore to shore. Debris is accumulated in rude masses below, and the rapids are filled with fallen or rolled rocks which impart a character of wildness to the scene. We made a portage of 1,250 yards, having descended nearer to the brink of the fall than is common. Fort Snelling is situated at the estimate distance of nine miles below the falls, at the junction with the river St. Peter’s. It occupies a commanding position, and exercises it may be inferred, an important influence over the contiguous Indian tribes, and the Indian trade. We reached this post on the 24th of July. Capt. Jouett, the commanding officer, promptly afforded every facility for communicating the object of the visit to the Sioux, and requesting their concurrence, which was promised by the chiefs, in a council convened at the Agency House. We refer to the subjoined report for its results. No recent details of the progress of the Sauc war, had been received. Having accomplished the object we proceeded down the Mississippi, and reached the mouth of the St. Croix, at three o’clock in the afternoon of the 26th, five days before the decisive action of Gen. Atkinson with the combined Saucs and Foxes below.

The River St. Croix has one peculiarity, to distinguish it from all other American rivers. It has its source and its termination in a lake, and each of these bears the same name with itself. The lake at its mouth is not less than thirty miles in length, and is, probably, no where, much over a mile wide. Its banks are high and afford a series of picturesque views, which keep the eye constantly on the stretch. The country is an upland prairie, interspersed with groves and majestic eminences. The waters are beautifully transparent, and the margin exhibits a pebbly beach, so cleanly washed, that it would scarcely afford earth enough to stain the fairest shoe. If “Loch Katrine” presents a more attractive outline of sylvan coast, it must be beautiful indeed. We went up it, turning point after point, with the pleasure that novelty imparts, aided by the chanting of our canoe-men. We were in hourly expectation of reaching its head for our night encampment; but we saw the sun set, casting its golden hues and its deep shadows over the water, and going down in a gorgeous amphitheatre of fleecy clouds. The moon almost imperceptibly shone out, to supply its place, creating a scene of moonlight stillness, which was suited to fix a living impression of

“The silence that is in the starry sky,

The sleep that is among the lonely hills.”

Nothing could present a greater contrast, to the noisy scene of horses and horsemen, war and bloodshed, which, we were then unconscious, was about being acted, so near to us. We allude to the pursuit and destruction of the Black Hawk’s army.

We encamped at a late hour, near a lofty eminence, which exhibited on its summit, a number of small mounds or barrows strongly relieved by the moonlight, which shone across the eminence, and left us in the shade. We resumed our way again, before the hour of five in the morning, (27th) and were still something more than two hours in reaching the head of the lake. In going out of this beautiful sheet of water, we would revert to some traits in its natural productions which serve to distinguish it, as well as its prominent scenery, although there are none equally distinctive. The great carboniferous limestone formation,[21] which fills the Mississippi valley, also reaches here, although there is now reason to believe that it reaches but little farther north. Its vegetation has little that is peculiar. The red cedar is found, hanging from some of its craggy shores on the lower part. Some fresh water shells, generally thin and small, with primary and lateral teeth wanting, characterize the sandy portions of its shore. There are some willow islands at the point where the River St. Croix enters it. And this point of the ingress of a large stream, presents the characteristics of what have been, not inaptly, called drowned lands, i. e. land bearing trees permanently standing in the water.

The St. Croix above this point exhibits the appearance of a wide, deep, ample river, with prominent banks, and forests of hard wood, and pine species. Its islands consist of rich alluvions, heavily timbered and subject to inundations. About two o’clock we passed the “Standing Cedars,” a point called so, in the treaty of limits between the Sioux and Chippewa tribes, and described in the inexact phraseology of the Indians, to be “about a day’s paddle, in a canoe, above the lake.” Howbeit, we were but a few minutes over nine hours, in performing the distance, with a strong crew of engagés, however, in light canoes, and with every appliance in pushing forward.