JUNCTION OF THE OHIO WITH THE MISSISSIPPI—DIFFICULTY OF ASCENDING THE LATTER WITH A BARGE—ITS TURBID AND RAPID CHARACTER—INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE—PHYSICAL IMPEDIMENTS TO ITS NAVIGATION—FALLING-IN BANKS—TIAWAPATI—ANIMALS—FLOATING TREES—RIVER AT NIGHT—NEEDLESS AND LAUGHABLE ALARM—CHARACTER OF THE SHORES—MEN GIVE OUT—REACH THE FIRST FAST LANDS—MINERAL PRODUCTS—CAPE GIRARDEAU—MOCCASIN SPRING—NON-POETIC GEOGRAPHICAL NAMES—GRAND TOWER—STRUGGLE TO PASS CAPE GARLIC.
I reached the junction of the Ohio with the Mississippi on the last day of June, 1818, with feelings somewhat akin to those of one who performs a pilgrimage;—for that Algonquin name of Mississippi had been floating through my mind ever since boyhood, as if it had been invested with a talismanic power.
The reading of books of geography, however, makes but a feeble impression on the mind, compared to the actual objects. Born on one of the tributaries of the Hudson—a stream whose whole length, from the junction of the Mohawk, is less than two hundred miles—I had never figured to myself rivers of such magnificent length and velocity. I had now followed down the Ohio, in all its windings, one thousand miles; it was not only the longest, but the most beautiful river which I had ever seen; and I felt something like regret to find it at last swallowed up, as it were, by the turbid and repulsive Mississippi. The latter was at its summer flood, and rushed by like a torrent, which seemed to be overcharged with the broken-down materials of half a continent.
De Soto had been the first European to gaze upon this heady mass of waters, urging downward everything that comes within their influence, and threatening to carry even their own banks into the gulf. We came, in a large, heavily-manned barge, to the very point of the influx of the Ohio, where Cairo is now located. It was early in the afternoon; but the captain of our craft, who was a stout-hearted fellow, of decision of character and a full-toned voice, deemed it best to come-to here, and wait till morning to grapple with the Mississippi. There were some old arks on the point, which had been landed in high water, and were now used as houses; but I retained my berth in the barge, and, after looking around the vicinity, amused myself by angling from the sides of the vessel. The only fish I caught was a gar—that almost single variety of the voracious species in these waters, which has a long bill, with sharp teeth, for arousing its prey, apparently, from a muddy bottom. The junction of two such streams as the Ohio and Mississippi, exhibits a remarkable struggle. For miles, along the eastern shores of the Mississippi, the clear blue waters of the Ohio are crowded to the banks; while the furious current of the former, like some monster, finally gulps it down, though the mastery is not obtained, I am told, till near the Chickasaw bluffs.
Early in the morning (1st July), the voice of the captain was heard, and the men paraded the sides of the deck, with their long poles shod with iron; and we were soon in the gurgling, muddy channel, struggling along its eastern shore. The men plied their poles with the skill of veterans, planting them as near the margin of the channel as possible, and placing the head of the pole against the shoulder, while they kept their footing by means of slats nailed across the footway. With every exertion, we made but five miles the first day. This slowness of ascent was, however, very favorable to observation. I was the only passenger on board, except two adventurers from the Youghioghany, in Western Pennsylvania, who had freighted the barge, and were in the position of supercargoes. Such tugging and toiling I had never before seen. It seemed to me that no set of men could long stand it. The current ran as if it were charged with power to sweep everything down its course. Its banks were not proof against this impetuosity, and frequently fell in, with a noise and power which threatened to overwhelm us. This danger was often increased by the floating trees, which had fallen into the stream at higher points. And when, after a severe day's toil, the captain ordered the boat to be moored for the night, we felt an insecurity from the fear that the bank itself might prove treacherous before morning.
Nothing in the structure of the country appeared to present a very fixed character. The banks of the river were elevated from ten to fifteen feet above the water, and consisted of a dark alluvium, bearing a dense forest. When they became too precipitous, which was an indication that the water at these points was too deep for the men to reach bottom with their poles, they took their oars, and crossed to the other bank. When night came on, in these damp alluvions, and darkness was added to our danger, the scene was indeed gloomy. I remember, this evening, we tried most perseveringly to drink our tea by a feeble light, which appeared to be a signal for the collection of insects far and near, who, by their numbers and the fierceness of their attacks, made it impossible to bring our cups to our mouths without stopping to brush away the fierce and greedy hordes of mosquitoes. Amongst the growth, cane and cotton-wood were most conspicuous.
I had a specimen of boatman manners to-day, which should not certainly be a subject of surprise, considering the rough-and-ready life and character of that class. Having laid down on the top deck of the barge a mineralogical specimen to which I attached value, and gone temporarily away, I found, on my return, that it had been knocked to pieces by one of the men, who acted, probably, like the boy who broke the fiddle, "to get the music out" of it. On expressing my disapproval of this, to one who evidently had not the most distant idea of the scientific value of "a stone," he made some trite remark, that "there was more where this came from," and then, stretching himself up at his full length of six feet, with sinews which had plainly become tense and hard from the use of the setting-pole, he exclaimed, "Help yourself!"
July 2d. The toils of this day were similar to those of the last. It was a perpetual struggle to overcome the force of the current by poles placed in the bed, and, when that became too deep, we sought for shallower shores. We encountered the same growth of trees along the banks. The land became somewhat more elevated. The insects were in such hordes, that it was amazing. We proceeded but about six miles to-day, and they were miles of incessant toil.
July 3d. To the ordinary dangers and efforts of this day, were added the frequent occurrence of snags and sawyers, or planters—terms which denote some of the peculiar impediments of Mississippi navigation. The captain of our craft, who was a courageous and vigilant man, was continually on the look-out to avoid these dangers, and put-to, at night, at the foot of a large cane-covered island, by which he avoided, in some measure, the sweep of the current, but was yet in jeopardy from falling-in banks. He requested me, in this exigency, to take a pole, and, from the bow, sound for bottom, as we crossed the river, to avoid shoals. This I did successfully. We estimated our ascent this day at seven miles.
July 4th. The perils and toils of the crew did not prevent their remembrance of the national anniversary; and the captain acknowledged their appeal in the morning by an extra measure of "old Monongahela." We then set forward against the wild, raging current. From the appearance of the wild turkey and large grey squirrel ashore, it is probable that we are passing out of the inundated region. In other respects, the face of the country and its productions appear the same. After ascending about six miles, when the time approached for looking out for a place to moor for the night, a storm of wind suddenly arose, which dashed the water into the barge. We put ashore in haste, at a precipitous bank of an island, which fell in during the night very near to us, and put us in momentary peril. To leave our position in the dark, would be to take the risk of running afoul of snags, or encountering floating trees; but as early as the light appeared on the morning of the 5th, we left the spot immediately, crossing to the western bank. By diligence we made eight miles this day, which brought us to the first settlement at Tiawapeta bottom, on the Missouri shore. This is the first land that appears sufficiently elevated for cultivation. The settlement consists of six or eight farms, where corn, flax, hemp, potatoes, and tobacco, are abundantly raised. The peach and apple-tree also thrive. I observed the papaw and persimmon among the wild fruits.