Green Bay, on the western border of Lake Michigan is about one hundred miles in length; and its breadth, at its entrance, is about twenty-five miles. It contains several islands; and there are in its vicinity tracts of low and wet ground. At the bottom of the bay is a little fall,[[120]] beyond which is a small lake called Winnebago. This lake receives Fox river from the west. At the foot of this bay too, is a fort,[[121]] and on the west of lake Winnebago is situated a village inhabited by Indians of this name. On the Malhominis river, which flows into Green Bay, is also situated an Indian village containing various tribes. The principal of them are the Lake, Pouteoratamis, and Malhominis.[[122]] A few families of the Nadonaicks, whose nation was nearly exterminated by the Iroquois, reside here. The Puans once occupied the borders of this bay, and Puans bay was originally its name. The Puans were fierce, and exceedingly hostile to neighbouring tribes. At length these tribes combined against them, and their numbers were greatly diminished.
Lake Michigan and Green Bay form a long point of land called Cape Townsand. Between this Lake and Lake Winnebago are situated the Ootewas. There are several rivers on the west of the last mentioned lake. One of these is Chicago river, near to which is Fort Dearborn.[[123]] At Chicago the United States have troops stationed.
Would to Heaven, that I could forever forget lake Michigan! Her envious waves have, recently, buried a youth of noble promise. With melancholy pride I remember, that whilst at Detroit, I numbered among my friends the lamented Lieutenant Eveleth. He possessed a genius peculiarly calculated for the engineer department, to which he belonged; [131] and by his mild, yet manly deportment, inspired, even in strangers, both esteem and affection. His countenance was martial; but with this aspect was blended a sweetness of expression which is rarely witnessed.—
“Weep no more,” brother soldiers, “weep no more,
For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead,
Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor;
So sinks the day star in the ocean bed,
And yet anon repairs his drooping head,
And tricks his beams, and with new spangled ore
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky: