And saw themselves look up—and nothing more.
GLIMPSES OF WESTERN TRAVEL.
On board one of those floating Babels, a steamer of the largest class, and bound by the way of the upper lakes for the territory of Wisconsin. The night of our leaving Buffalo was very tempestuous, which led some of the fearful passengers to inquire, “Will not the captain put into some port should the danger become imminent?” “There is no port that this boat can enter, short of Cleaveland,” was the comforting reply. In the morning the weather became calm, and the day was pleasant upon Lake Erie. A view of Cleaveland from the lake, and a very imperfect one of Detroit, as we were receding from it in the early morning, was all that I saw of the towns upon the lower lakes. Looking out upon the St. Clair river, and near the magnificent Lake Huron, Fort Gratiot lingers as a beautiful picture upon my memory. Every thing belonging to the fort looked dazzlingly white in the afternoon sun, and contrasted finely with the green foliage of the trees with which it was surrounded. The burial-ground seemed, as we saw it from the river, to be in the midst of a grove of Nature’s own planting. A retired and peaceful spot for the last rest of the weary-hearted! The evening found us far up upon Lake Huron. There was a clear moon, and it was delightful to stay out upon the guards and look upon the lake as its waves glittered in the moonlight. There was a lonely grandeur in that night scene upon “the great waters,” that brought home to the heart a sense of how little human aid could avail us there, should evil betide our vessel. That moonlight scene upon Lake Huron is placed beside the view of Fort Gratiot in the treasure-house of memory. The morning had been dark, with a wintry sky, but the afternoon was warm and bright when we arrived at Mackinack. The isolation of its situation in the far northern waters—the antique appearance of a portion of its buildings, and the strange blending in its population of military and civil, savage and civilized life, combine to render Mackinaw indeed a unique spot. The island rises almost like a hill from the water, and the fort, as every one knows, is upon the height commanding the passage of the straits, and the town is built upon the lake shore beneath it, and close along the water’s edge are erected the lodges of the Indians. Whether there are always so many lodges to be found there, or whether some of them were set up for a temporary gathering of the Indians at Mackinaw, I know not. They were made of a coarse matting, attached to poles that protruded from their tops, and were in a conical form. I should suppose from their size that the families inhabiting them must be very small, or that there was little room allowed for guests. The bark canoes of the Indians were drawn up all along the lake-shore. They look frail things to trust in, out on the deep waters of the lake. A scene on board the boat impressed me strangely. On returning to the saloon after visiting the town, we found a refined and fashionable-looking group gathered around the piano engaged in a piece of modern music, and close behind them, and listening with apparently deep interest, stood some of the dark children of the forest. A squaw, with her pappoose lashed to her back, with its head just visible above her soiled blanket, forms a striking contrast to a fashionably dressed lady when placed beside her. There is an evident effort among the Indians to assume in a measure the dress of white people. Some poor and soiled articles of civilized attire, worn with their savage costume, only makes their appearance the more miserable. The old mission-house was pointed out to me. Mackinack has long been abandoned as a missionary station, but it was evident that a missionary of evil was still laboring there in the midst of the Indians, and from their appearance had won many followers—the firewater—that curse of the red man! It was painful to see the number of casks laid along the shore with the brand “whisky” upon them, and to think of the evil that would undoubtedly ensue from it. Mackinaw is somewhat important from its fishing trade, and its white-fish and trout are justly celebrated. These large trout have the beautifully spotted skins of the fish bearing the same name in the Eastern waters. What has been said of the transparency of the “blue waters of Huron” is not exaggeration. Of a clear day, when the lake is still, one can discern objects at the depth of many fathoms as distinctly as if they were at the surface of the water. There are old, bark-covered houses standing in the town, that look as if they must have stood there when Mackinaw was one of the frontier posts belonging to France. I observed no large trees, but there are many cedars along the bluff which surrounds the island. Landing at Milwaukee late at night and leaving it early in the morning, there was no opportunity for seeing this fast-improving city of the lake. It is some miles from Milwaukee on the west, before one enters the prairie country. There is much beautiful prairie between Milwaukee and the Rock river, interspersed with the oak openings, which form a characteristic feature of the country. These oak openings are of a burr oak, with low, spreading branches, and are free from any under-growth of shrubs, and at a little distance have much the appearance of extensive orchards. It was night long before we reached Janesville, upon the Rock river, the place of our destination. There was again a clear, bright moon, like that which looked down upon Huron, and the country was distinctly visible in its light.
Along the way we saw, in different places, the “camping out” so common among the team-drivers of the West, and I was reminded strikingly of scenes I had read of in gipsy life. The groups gathered around their fires—the fire-light shining and flickering upon the trees—the large wagons, with their white, covered tops, which at a little distance looked almost like tents in the moonlight, and the cattle in the background, formed altogether a picturesque scene. It is said that teams often go in this manner from the Mississippi to the lake and return, without their drivers seeking any other lodgings than such as they can find within or beneath their wagons. They select places for the night encampment where wood and water can be readily obtained, and turn out their cattle to crop the grass around them.
Janesville, the county town of Rock county, is already a place of very considerable business, although it is but little more than nine years since its site was the hunting-ground of the Pottawattomies and Winnebagoes. The town was originally built on the eastern side of the river, beneath and along the side of the bluff which there terminates Rock prairie on the west; but within two years past streets have been laid out in the oak openings on the western side of the river, and many buildings erected upon them. There is a stone academy on the western side of the river, which is also occupied for the present as a chapel for the services of the Episcopal denomination. A very fine, large flouring-mill is also in process of erection on the western side of the river. The court-house stands upon the brow of the bluff, on the eastern side of the river, and near the centre of the village, and commands a fine and extensive view. Rock river is a much purer and quicker stream than many of the rivers of the West. Rock prairie is many miles in extent—it is skirted by oak openings, and has some groves of timber dotted through it. The soil of the prairie is very dark and rich, and looks as though it might bear cultivation for ages without wearing out. Rock county possesses great agricultural resources, and has settled very rapidly for an inland district. The tide of foreign emigration that sets so strongly to the West, has brought many emigrants to this county. Many from the cold and sterile land of Norway have found homes upon its rich soil. In the deed-books, in the county register’s office, are recorded many names that sound strangely to American ears. The foreign vote told heavily upon the last elections in the territory, and its weight was given on the side that usually receives the foreign vote every where in our country.
Beloit, in the lower part of the county, near the Illinois line, is said to have grown still more rapidly than Janesville, and there are also several other villages growing up in different parts of Rock county. This is a broad and rich and beautiful country, but to one whose life has been passed in the mountain-bounded valley of the Susquehanna, the absence of any high points of view detracts from its beauty. The autumnal burning of the prairies has passed. It is a magnificent sight in the night time, to see a belt of flame stretching along for miles, until in the distance it seems lost upon the very verge of the horizon.
A MIDNIGHT FANTASY.
———