4th. We went on under a press of sail last evening until eight o'clock, when we encamped in a wide sandy bay in the Straits of Michigan, having come a computed distance of 80 miles. On looking about, we found in the sand the stumps of cedar pickets, forming an antique enclosure, which, I judged, must have been the first site of the Mission of St. Ignace, founded by Pierre Marquette, upwards of a hundred and eighty years ago. Not a lisp of such a ruin had been heard by me previously. French and Indian tradition says nothing of it. The inference is, however, inevitable. Point St. Ignace draws its name from it. It was afterwards removed and fixed at the blunt peninsula, or headland, which the Indians call Peekwutino, the old Mackinac of the French.
Leaving this spot at an early hour, we went to Point St. Ignace to breakfast, and made the traverse to the Island of Michilimackinac by eleven o'clock. We were greeted by a number of persons on the beach; among them was Mr. Agnew, of the Sault, who reported friends all well. This was a great relief to my mind, as I had been for a number of days under the impression that some one near and dear to me was ill. It was Sunday morning; many of the inhabitants were at church, and appearances indicated more respect for the day than I recollect to have noticed before. The good effect of the mission established in the island, under the auspices of the Rev. Mr. Ferry, are clearly visible. Mr. Robert Stuart invited me to take a room at the company's house, which I declined, but dined and supped there.
CHAPTER XXV.
Journey from Mackinac to the Sault Ste. Marie--Outard Point--Head winds--Lake Huron in a rage--Desperate embarkation--St. Vital--Double the Detour--Return to St. Mary's--Letters--"Indian girl"--New volume of travels--Guess' Cherokee alphabet--New views of the Indian languages and their principles of construction--Georgia question--Post-office difficulties--Glimpses from the civilized world.
1825. Sept. 5th. I arose at seven, and we had breakfast at half-past seven. I then went to the Company's store and ordered an invoice of goods for the Indian department. This occupied the time till dinner was announced. I then went to my camp and ordered the tent to be struck and the canoe to be put into the water; but found two of my men so ill with the fever and ague that they could not go, and three others were much intoxicated. The atmosphere was very cloudy and threatening, and to attempt the traverse to Goose Island, under such circumstances, was deemed improper. Mr. Robert and David Stuart, men noted in the Astoria enterprise; Mr. Agnew, Capt. Knapp, Mr. Conner, Mr. Abbott, Mr. Currey, &c., had kindly accompanied me to the beach, but all were very urgent in their opinion that I should defer the starting. I ordered the men to be ready at two o'clock in the morning should the weather not prove tempestuous.
6th. I arose at three o'clock, but found a heavy fog enveloping the whole island, and concealing objects at a short distance. It was not till half-past six that I could embark, when the fog began to disperse, but the clearing away of the fog introduced a light head wind. I reached Goose Island, a distance of ten miles, after a march of three hours, and afterwards went to Outard Point, but could go no further from the increased violence of the wind.
Outard Point, 8 o'clock P.M. Here have I been encamped since noon, with a head wind, a dense damp atmosphere, and the lake in a foam. I expected the wind would fall with the sun, but, alas! it blows stronger than ever. I fondly hoped on quitting Mackinac this morning, that I should see home to-morrow, but that is now impossible. How confidently do we hope and expect in this life, and how little do we know what is to befall us for even a few hours beyond the present moment. It has pleased the All-wise Being to give me an adverse wind, and I must submit to it. I, doubtless, exulted too soon and too much. On reaching Mackinac, I said to myself: "My journey is accomplished; my route to the Sault is nothing; I can go there in a day and a half, wind or no wind." This vanity and presumption is now punished, and, I acknowledge, justly. I should have left it to Providence. Wise are the ways of the Almighty, and salutary all His dispensations to man. Were we not continually put in mind of an overruling Providence by reverses of this kind, the human heart, exalted with its own consequence, would soon cease to implore protection from on high.
I feel solitary. The loud dashing of the waves on shore, and the darkness and dreariness of all without my tent, conspire to give a saddened train to my reflections. I endeavored to divert myself, soon after landing, by a stroll along the shore. I sought in vain among the loose fragments of rock for some specimens worthy of preservation. I gleaned the evidences of crystallization and the traces of organic forms among the cast-up fragments of limestone and sandstone. I amused myself with the reflection that I should, perhaps, meet you coming from an opposite direction on the beach, and I half fancied that, perhaps, it would actually take place. Vain sport of the mind! It served to cheat away a tedious hour, and I returned to my tent fatigued and half sick. I am in hopes a cup of tea and a night's rest will restore my equipoise of mind and body. Thus
"Every pang that rends the heart,
Bids expectation rise."