0 j fox tie - - Colony" Gift of William Walter Phelps 1880 jiiipiiw' Hall of Repre8e_tatives....Washmgton. Bridge and Kooi-a near Falls ot Niagara. BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. EXHIBITING- ITS GEOGRAPHY, DIVISIONS, CONSTITUTION, AND GOVERNMENT, INSTITUTIONS, NATURAL CURIOSITIES, AGRICULTURE, RAILROADS, COMMERCE, CANALS, IS, PUBLIC BUILDINGS, MANNERS AND CUSTOMS, FINE ARTS, ANTIQUITIES, MANUFACTRELIGION,EDUCATION,POPULATION, LITERATURE, MINERALOGY, BOTANY, GEOLOGY, NATURAL HISTORY, PRODUCTIONS, &c. «fec. tfcC. AND PRESENTING A VIEW OF THE REPUBLIC GENERALLY, AND OF THE INDIVIDUAL STATES; [View on the Mississippi] TOGETHER WITH A CONDENSED HISTORY OF THE LAND, FROM ITS FIRST DISCOVERY TO THE PRESENT TIME. THE BIOGRAPHY OF ABOUT TWO HUNDRED OF THE LEADING MEN; A DESCRIPTION OF THE PRINCIPAL CITIES AND TOWNS; WITH STATISTICAL TABLES, RB-_.TlNO TO THH -ELISION, COMMERCE, MANUFACTURES, AND VARIOUS OTHER TOPIOB. EDITED BY GRENVILLE MELLEN WITH ENGRAVINGS OF CURIOSITIES, SCENERY, ANIMALS, CITIES, TOWNS, PUBLIC BUILDIN&S, *«. HARTFORD: PUBLISHED BY H. FREDERICK SUMNER. 1843. Entered aecording to Act "of Congress, in the -year 1559, by GRENVILLE MELLEN. in the Clerk's Office ofthe District Court of Massachusetts nracoTTPED bt bheparo, outer, a ca No. 3, Water Sunt, Boston. PREFACE. In presenting this volume to the American public, the introduc tory remarks in which we shall indulge will be few and general, as the book is one of that kind that speaks with singular plainness for itself, and seems to us to require little upon the prefatory page in the way of explanation, either with reference to its character considered collectively, or in detail. , The chief object in preparing this work has been to furnish something which should be found to embrace those subjects which are of abiding interest and importance to all classes. It has been a wish to present such matters, as well as could be done in the com pass allowed, as are of interest to all classes of readers, and an ac quaintance with which is desirable for our own citizens especially. Directed by these intentions, it is hoped that the efforts to bring a valuable and attractive volume before the public may have prov ed successful ; and that, viewed with reference to the subjects of which it treats, this may be called, emphatically, a book for this country, exhibiting, at one view, a picture of the Republic in its- physical, political, and social conditions, so drawn and colored as to present in pleasant relief its most striking and peculiar features. Simplicity was a leading object in the preparation of the work. By such object it was natural to be guided, when it was remem bered that the pages were designed for the general eye and for all classes. ~ This quality was allowed to govern, in a great degree, both in the thought and style ; and if, in any case, it may have been carried to a point beyond the fortunate one, it will be believed, we presume, that the fault, if it be such, is upon the better side. JV PREFACE. In some instances interesting historical accounts are retained anu enlarged upon, from a consideration of the universally popular cha*- racter which such accounts generally possess. It is not known, however, that they are referred to or dwelt upon in such a manner as to induce the charge of credulity beyond that very pardonable de gree which all well disposed and good natured, and we may add, well informed, writers and readers are ever ready to meet. •Freqiientreferences are made to able and prominent writers, in connec tion with the several important subjects which are here intro duced ; and such extracts are given, as, it is' thought, will best illus trate and enforce them. This course, with most readers, is an ac ceptable one, and in a work of this nature it is the best that can be pursued, frequently, to accomplish, within reasonable limits, the design ofthe undertaking. To enlarge would seem to be useless. The volume must speak for itself, and hear its recommendation within. It is hoped, with the several sketches of the Republic which it intends to present, Mnder its different aspects, it may prove an agreeable and instruc tive one to the community. We had intended to have annexed a list of the writers consulted and extracted from in the course of the volume ; but we beheve the references in the pages will supersede the necessity of a more particular notice. It would be unjust, however, not to mention our especial obligation to the excellent View of the United States by Mr. Hinton, of which we have made the freest, use throughout the volume. New York, June, 1839. CONTENTS. PART I. PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. :P-g«. Chap. I. Mountains 13 Chap. II. Valleys 27 Chap. III. Prairies and Plains ........ 32 Chap. IV. Rivers 38 Chaf. V. Cataracts and Cascades 63 Chaf. VI. Lakes . 75 Chaf. VII. Springs 87 Chap. VIII. Caverns 97 Chap. IX. Islands 108 Chaf. X. Capes and Peninsulas 114 Chaf. XI. Bays, Harbors, Sounds, and Gulfs 116 Chap. XII. Oceans 122 Chap. XIH. Soil 127 Chap. XIV. Climate 140 Chap. XV. Minerals 155 Chaf. XVI. Animals 165 Chap. XVII. Botany 235 Chaf. XVIII. Geology 249 Chap. XIX. Natural Curiosities 257 PART II. POLITICAL GEOGRAPHY. Chap. I. Political and Geographical Division 263 Chap. II. Cities and Towns "i VT CONTENTS. Chap. III. Agriculture . , Chap. IV. Manufactures Chap. V. Commerce Chap. VI. Rail-roads Chap. VII. Canals Chap. VIII. Government . Chap. IX. Convention . ... Chap. X. iindian Tribes - Chap. XI. American Antiquities, Chap. XII. Religion . Cha*. XIII. 'Manners and Amusements Chap. XIV. Penitentiary System Ch Ap. XVI, ' Literature and Education - Chap. XVII. Fine Arts ,. ...;. Chap. XVIII. Banking System Chap. XIX. Biographical Sketches . Chap. XX. History . » Page. 339 353361 369 379387405411436445453 465 473486 490498552 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES, PART I. t PH Y S I C AL G E 6 G R A P H Y. CHAPTER L— MOUNTAINS. Though .embracing in' its e%tent several elevated ranges of great length and breadth, the territory of $ie United Staffs cannot ; be considered as a mountainous country. ¦ The; land along the whol^ line of the; seacoast is level foi a considerable distance into the interior. The breadth of this level tract expands from fifty miles in the north-east extremity, gradually, as we advance to thejsouth-w/sst, till in. the state of Georgia, it has attained an extent of near two hundred miles< IJeyond- this the land 'gradually : rises intoo^nountains, which are much, more remarkable for their length and "breadth, than their height. They sometimes consist of numerous parallel ridges rising, successively behififd each other; at other times they run into -knots ; and sometimes they recede from their parallel direction into what are called^spurs. These ranges- or belts, of mountainous'country, though "receiving avast number of different appellations, are mostf/usually known/ by_J'he name of the AUeghanies. The long Continuity of this chain has obtained it the name of the Endless Mountains, from the northern savages/. " The French and S pfiaiiards, who. first became acquainted with it in Florida, applied to it through its whole extent the name of Apafackian, which is still- retained by a';e,onjfiderable; river of that country. •The '^general coufsei of the AUeghanies is about north-east arid south west; east of the Hudson, they are scattered in irregular groups, without any very marked direction. ..-.,.-. 7 ,;. .>, . 7 ..-'•¦ ' The : range- of the Ebelei) oT Chippewan -Mo^uhiains divide's the waters, which flow east into the Missouri and Mississippi, from those which flow west inta the Pacific Ocean, and are a' continuation of the Cordilleras of Mexico. Their, longitude is about one hundred arid- twelve west, and they terminate in about seventy north latitude. Along the coast of the Pacific \$t another'! range which seems to form a step to .the Rocky Mountain®, It extends from the Cape of California along the .coast- to Cook's Inlet, generally rising to no grea£ height in the southern portion. In the. northern part,: La Perouse;sta:tes that it is ten thousand ..feet high, and at its northern- extremity is Mount Elias, eighteen thousand feet high, and the loftiest peak of North America. 14 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. The White Mountains in New England, largely considered, are the principal ranges running north-east and south-west, projecting from the main ridge that forrns the boundary of the United States, nnd separates the waters of the St. Lawrence from those that run south through the Northern States. The highest ridge is that called, the White Mountain, Ridge in New Hampshire, running from south to north, the loftiest pipp- Whitc Mountains. mits of which are Monadnock, a hill of an abrupt and striking character, Sunapee, Kearsarge, Carr's Mountain, and Moosehillock. Towards the north of the state, these eminences rise to a much higher -elevation, and are known specifically by the name ofthe White Mountains. White Mountains These are the loftiest mountains in the United States, east of the Missis sippi. They lie between the Connecticut and Androscoggin rivers on the north-east and west, and the head-waters of the Merrimack on tho south sixty or seventy miles from the coast ; yet their white summits physical geography 15 are visible from many miles at sea. They extend about twenty miles from south-west to north-east, and their base is eight or ten miles broad. Mount Washington is the highest of all the White Mountains, being six thousand two hundred and thirty-four feet above the level of the sea. Next to Mount Washington in height is Mount Adams, then Jefferson, then Madison, all more than five thousand feet high ; there are several besides these, though none so elevated. The country around and among the mountains is very wild and rough, and the mountains themselves are difficult of access. The east side of Mount Washington rises at an angle of forty-five degrees. The lower part of the mountain is covered with thick woods of spruce and fir trees, with deep beds of moss beneath. Heavy clouds of vapor often rest upon the mountain, and fill the moss with, water, which cannot be exhaled or dried up by the sun on account of the woods, and therefore it breaks out in numerous springs which feed the streams from the mountain. The trees are short and stunted higher up the mountain ; soon there are only bushes ; then instead of bushes are vines; the last thing that grows is winter grass mixed with moss; the summit is entirely bare of vegetation. There is a plain from which the last height of Mount Washington rises to the height of fifteen hundred feet. This elevation or pinnacle is composed of huge grey rocks. Reaching the top muGh fatigued and out of breath, the traveller is instantly master of a boundless prospect, noble enough to pay him for his labor. The Atlantic dimly seen through a distance of sixty-five .miles, the Vermont Mountains on the west, . the southern and northern .mountains of New Hampshire, Lake Winnipiseogee, ponds* streams, and towns, without number, all form a great impressive picture. The road -from the seacoast to the mountains passes along the head stream of the Saco, which rises among these ' mountains, and breaks through them at a place known by the name ofthe Notch,, a narrow defile extending two miles in length between two large cliffs, apparently rent asunder by some vast convulsion of nature. ' The sublime and awful grandeur of this passage baffles all description. Geometry may settle the heights of the mountains ; and numerical figures may record the measure ; but no words can tell the emotions of the soul, as it looks upward, and views the almost perpendicular precipices which line the narrow space between them ; while the senses ache with terror and astonishment, as one sees himself hedged in from all the world besides. He may cast his eye forward or- backward, or to either side ; he can see only upward, and there the diminutive circle of his" vision is cribbed and confined by the battlements of nature's : '-cloud-capped' towers,' which seem as if they wanted only the breathing of a zephyr, or. the wafting of a straw against them, to displace them, and crush the prisoner , in their fall. Just before our visit to this place, on the 26th of June, 1826,. there was a tremendous avalanche, or slide, as'it is there called, from the mountain which makes the southern wall of the passage. An immense mass of earth and rock, on the side of the mountain; Was loosened frora its resting place, and began to slide towards the bottom. In its course, it divided into three, portions, each coming down, with amazing veloci ty, into the roapV and sweeping before it shrubs, trees, and rocks, and filling up the road, beyond all possibility of its being removed. With great iabpr, a pathway has been made over these fallen' masses, which admits 46 BOOK.-^F JTHE UNITED STATES. -the passage of a carriage. The place from which the slide, or slip, was loosened, is directly in the rear of a small, but comfortable dwelling-house, owned and occupied by a Mr. Willey, who has taken . advantage of a narrow, a very narrow interval, — where the bases of the two mountains seem to have parted and receded, as if afraid of coming into contact,— 4» , erect his lone habitation : and, were there not a special Providence in the .fell of a sparrow, and had not the finger of that Providence traced the direction of the sliding mass, neither he, nor any soul of his family, would ,ever have told the tale. They heard the noise, when it first began to jjnove, and ran to the door. In terror and amazement, they beheld the mountain in motion. But what can human power effect in such an emergency? Before they could think of retreating, or ascertain which way to escape, the danger was passed. One portion of the avalanche , crossed the road about ten rods only from their habitation ; the second, a few rods beyond that ; and the third, and much the largest portion, took a much- more oblique direction. The whole area, now covered by the <,slide, is nearly an acre ; and the distance of its present bed from, its (former place on the side of the mountain, and which it moved over in a .few minutes, is from three quarters of a mile to a mile. There are many trees of large size that came down with such force as to shiver ¦,them in pieces ; and innumerable rocks, of many tons' weight, any one of which was suflicient to carry with it destruction to any of the labors of man. The spot on the mountain, from which the slip was loosened, is now a naked, white rock ; and its pathway downward is indicated by deep channels, or furrows grooved in the side of the mountain, and down one of which pours a stream of water, sufficient to carry a common saw-miU. ' From this place to the Notch, there is almost a continual ascent, gene rally gradual, but sometimes steep and sudden. The narrow pathway pro ceeds along the stream, sometimes crossing it, and shifting from the side ipf one mountain to the other, as either furnishes a less precarious foothold for the traveller than its fellow. Occasionally it winds up the side of the steep to such a height, as to leave, on one hand or the other, a gulf of unseen depth ; for the foliage of the trees and shrubs is impervious to the sight. The Notch itself is formed by a sudden projection of rock from the mountain on the right or northerly side, rising perpendicularly to a .great height, — probably seventy or eighty feet, — and by a large mass of rock on the left side, which has tumbled from its ancient location, and taken a position within twenty feet of its opposite neighbor. The length of the Notch is not more than three or four rods. The moment it is passed, the mountains seem to have vanished. A level meadow, over sown with long grass and wild flowers, and spotted with tufts of .shrubbery, spreads itself before the astonished eye, on the left, and a .swamp or thicket, on the right, conceals the ridge of mountains which extend to the north : the road separates this thicket from the meadow. Not far from the Notch, on the right hand side of the road, several springs issue from the rocks that eompose the base of the mountain, unite in the thicket, and form the Saco river. This little stream runs across the road into the meadow, where it almost loses itself in its meandering among the bogs, but again collects its waters and passes under the rock that makes the southerly wall of the Notch. It is here invisible for several rods and its presence is indicated only by its noise, as it rolls. through its ruWed PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. Jf tunnel. In wet seasons and freshets, probably a portion of the water passes over the fragirients of rock, which are here wedged together, and form an arch or covering for the natural bed of the stream. ' The sensations which affect the corporeal faculties, as one views these stupendous creations of Omnipotence, are absolutely afflicting and painful. If you look at the summits of the mountains, when a cloud passes towards them, it is impossible for the eye to distinguish, at such a height, which is in motion, the mountain, or the cloud ; and this deception of vision : pro duces a dizziness, which few spectators have nerve enough to endure for many minutes. If the eye be fixed on the crags and masses of rock, that project from the sides of the mountains, the flesh involuntarily quivers, and the limbs seem to be impelled to retreat from a scene that threatens impendent destruction. If the thoughts which crowd upon the intellectual faculties are less painful than these sensations of flesh and blood, they are too sublime and overwhelming to be described. The frequent alterations and great changes, that have manifestly taken place in these majestie masses, since they were first piled together by the hand of the Creator, are calculated to awaken " thoughts beyond the reaches of the soul." If the " everlasting hills" thus break in pieces, and shake the shaggy covering from their sides, who will deny that " This earthly globe, the creature of a day, Though built by God's right hand, shall pass away?— The sun himself, by gathering clouds oppressed, Shall, in his silent, dark pavilion rest ; His golden urn shall break, and, useless, Ue Among the common ruins of the sky ; The stars rush headlong, in the wild commotion, And bathe their glittering foreheads in the ocean V ' Reflection needs not the authority of inspiration to warrant a belief, that this anticipation is something more than poetical. History and philosophy teach its truth, or, at least, its probability. The melancholy imaginings which it excites are relieved by the conviction that the whole of God's cre ation is nothing less •" Than a capacious reservoir of means, Formed for his ase, and ready at his will ;" and that, if this globe should be resolved into chaos, it will undergo a new organization, and be re-moulded into scenes of beauty, and abodes of hap piness. Such may be the order of nature, to be unfolded in a perpetual series of material production and decay — of creation and dissolution — a magnificent procession of worlds and systems, in the march of eternity.'* A few weeks after the slide mentioned in the above description, a dis aster occurred which occasioned the destruction of the interesting family to which allusion is there made. The afternoon had been rainy, and the weather continued so till eleven o'clock in the evening, when it cleared away. About the same hour, a great noise was heard, at the distance of several miles like the rushing down of rocks and much water from the mountains. The next morning, the people, at Conway, could perceive that some disaster, of no ordinary * J. T. Buckingham. 18 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. character, had happened, by the appearance of the mountains on each side of the road. On repairing to the spot, they found the house of Mr. Wil- ley, standing near the Notch, unhurt, but destitute of any of the family. It is supposed that they left it in their fright, and were instantly swept away, and buried under the rocks and earth which were borne down by the freshet. This family consisted of Mr. Willey, his wife, five children, and two hired men, all of whom were suddenly swept from time to eter nity, by this lamentable disaster. Had they remained in the house, they would probably have been safe. The central and western parts of Maine are mountainous. The highest mountains are . the Katahdin, situated near the centre of the state, the Speckled, Bald, Bigelow, and Ebeeme mountains. The range between the rivers Hudson and Connecticut, and this last and lake Champlain, is called the Green, Mountains, an appellation which it has received from its perpetual verdure, being covered on its western side with hem lock, pine, spruce, and other evergreens. These mountains are from ten to fifteen miles wide, much intersected with valleys, and abound ing in springs and streams. Vegetation decreases on approaching their summits ; the trees diminish in size, and frequently terminate in a shrub bery of spruce and " hemlock, two or three feet high, with branches so interwoven as to prevent all passage through them.. The sides of the mountains are generally rugged and irregular ; some of them have large apertures and caves. Their tops are coated with a compact and firm moss, which lies in extensive beds, and is sometimes of a consistency to bear the weight of a man without being broken through. These mosses absorb a great deal of moisture, and afford wet and marshy places, which in the warm season are the constant resort of water fowl. The loftiest summits are Killington Peak, near Rutland ; Camel's Rump, between Montpe- lier and Burlington, and Mansfield Mountain, a few miles farther north, all which are more than three thousand five hundred feet above the level of the sea. Ascutney, a single mountain near Windsor, is three thousand three hundred and twenty feet in height. The range called Green Mountains in Vermont, enters the west part of Massachusetts from the north, and forms the Hoosac and Tagkan- nuc Ridges, which run nearly parallel to each other south, into Connecticut. The most elevated peaks of the Tagkannuc Ridge are Saddle Mountain in the north, four thousand feet high, and Tagkannuc Mountain in the south, three thousand feet. No summits of the Hoosac Ridge much exceed half these elevations. Mount Holyoke, in the neighborhood of Northampton, commands a prospect ofthe highest beauty; the waters ofthe Connecticut wind about its base, giving fertility and wealth of vegetation to the surround ing country. On its top a shanty is erected, in which refreshments are kept for the visitors who at favorable seasons make this excursion in great numbers. There are two distinct chains belonging to the Alleghany range in the state of New York, the Catskill and the Wallkill. The Catskill, which is the most northern, is the continuation of the proper Alleghany or western chain ; the eastern is called, by Some geographers, Wallkill. A visit to the Catskill is a favorite excursion of northern travellers, and several days may be spent very agreeably in examining the grand and romantic scenery of the neighborhood. Pine Orchard is a small plain, two thousand two hundred and fourteen feet above the Hudson, scattered PHifSICAL GEOGRAPHY. iy with forest trees, arid furnished with an elegant house of great size. Im mediately below is seen a wild and mountainous region, finely contrasting with the cultivated country beyond, which presents every variety of hill and valley, interspersed with town, harhlet, and cottage. The hills of Weehawken are on the west side pf the Hudson, nearly opposite the city of New York. Weehawken. The Highlands of the Hudson, or Fishkill Mountains, which first appear about forty miles from New York, are marked for their sublimity and Highlands.. grandeur, and interesting from their connection with many great events of the revolution. Thjs chain is sixteen miles in width, and extends twenty miles along both sides of the Hudson. The height of the principal has 2 ' 20 BOOK OP THE UNITED STATES. been estimated at one thousand five hundred and sixty-five feet. The Peruvian Mountains consist of a lofty tract in the northern part of New York, being round the sources of the Hudson, and separating the waters of Lake Champlain from those of the St. Lawrence. They received their name from the supposition that they contained mineral treasures. Their loftiest summit, called Whiteface, is about three thousand feet above the level of Lake Champlain. The Apalachian chain in Pennsylvania spreads to its widest limits, and covers with its various ranges more than one half of the state- The greatest width of the chain equals two hundred miles. It consists of pa rallel ridges sometimes little distant from each other, and at other times with valleys twenty or thirty miles broad lying between them. The range nearest' the coast is called the South Mountain, and is a continuation of the Blue Ridge of Virginia. This, however, is hardly a distinct ridge, but only an irregular series of rocky, broken eminences, sometimes disap pearing altogether, and at others spreading out several miles in breadth. These eminences lie one hundred and fifty or two hundred miles from the sea, and their height does not exceed one thousand two hundred feet above the surrounding country. Beyond these are the Kittatinny or Blue Moun tains, which extend from Maryland to New Jersey across the Susquehanna and Delaware. Farther westward are the ridges bearing the names of the Sideling Hills, Ragged Mountains, Great Warrior Mountain, East Will's Mountain, -till we come to the Alleghany Ridge, the highest range, and from which this whole chain has in common language received the name of the Alleghany Mountains. The highest summits are between three and four thousand feet above the level of the sea. West of the Alleghany are the Laurel and Chesnut Ridges. These mountains are in general covered with thick-forests. The Laurel Mountains are overgrown on their eastern front with the tree from which they are named. The wide valleys between the great ridges are filled with a multitude of hills, confusedly scattered up and down. The tops of the ridges sometimes exhibit long ranges of table land, two or three miles broad ; some of them are steep on. one side, and extend with a long slope on the other. These mountains are traversed by the great streams of the Susquehanna chain, and the head-waters of the Ohio. Th^ Wallkill, which crosses the Hudson al» West Point, forty miles below the Catskill, is the continuation of the Blue Ridge, or Eastern Chain, which is the most general appellation for the extensive ridge which fronts fhe Atlantic. The eastern and western ranges run parallel to each other, south-west, till on the frontiers of. North Carolina and Virginia they unite in a knot which has been called the Alleghany Arch, because the principal chain embraces there in a curve all its collaterals frofn the east. A httle farther to the south, but still in North Carolina, a second knot unites all the collateral ridges from the west, and forms a culminating point of heads of rivers. The second bifurcation stretches south-west and then west, and the name of the * Cumberland Mountains through the whole state of Ten- * Among the Enchanted Mountains, a name given to several spurs of the Cumber land Eidge, are some very singular footprints marked in the solid limestone rock. ^3_ese are tracks of men, horses, and other animals, as distinctly marked as though but yesterday impressed in clay or mortar. Their appearance often indicates that the feet •which made them had slidden, as if in descending a detlivity of soft clay The PHYSICAL GEOGRAPH. 21 aessee, while the. proper Alleghany Chain,-Mt almost alone, continues its course to the south-west, and completes the boundary of Georgia and the two Carolinas. From the Alleghany Arch, there are three principal ridges or ramifications of the Alleghany, running north-east and nearly parallel to each other, namely, the Alleghany Proper, the North Mountain, and the Blue Ridge. Of the last ridge the highest summits are the Otter Peaks. The elevated district of South Carolina presents seven "Or eight mountains running in regular directions, the most distinguished of which ' is the *Table Mountain. Mr. Jefferson, with peculiar felicity of illustra tion, called the range of the AUeghanies the spine of the United States ; separating the eastern from the western waters, and the whole of the terri tory from the Mississippi to the Atlantic into three natural divisions, mate rially differing from each other in climate, configuration, soil, and produce ; namely, the coast; the mountains, and the western territory. In extent, in elevation, and in breadth, the Rocky Mountains far exceed the AUeghanies of the Eastern States. Their mean breadth is two hun dred miles, and where broadest, three hundred. Their height must be very great, since, when first seen by Captain Lewis, they were at least one hundred and fifty miles distant. On a nearer approach, the sublimity of the prospect is increased, by the appearance of range rising behind range, each yielding in height to its successor, till the most distant is mingled with the clouds. In this lofty region the ranges are covered with snow in the middle of June. From this last circumstance, these ranges have been Table lands at the foot ofthe Rocky Mountains. sometimes denominated the Shining Mountains — an appellation much more -appropriate than that of the Rocky or Stony Mountains, a property human feet have uniformly six toes, with the exception of one track, which is thought to be that of a negro. One of the tracks is sixteen inches long, and thirteen inches wide from toe to heel, with the ball of the heel five inches in diameter. On the shore of the Mississippi is a similar- impression of the human feet in a mass of lim_stone. No satisfactory explanation has been given of these singular appearances. * Table Mountain, in Pendleton district, near the north-west corner of South Caro- jna, is thus described by Dr. Ramsay. 'Its height exceeds three thousand feet, aid 22 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. possessed by all mountains, but peculiar to none. The longitudinal extent of this great chain is immense, running as far north-west as sixty degrees north latitude, and perhaps to the Frozen Ocean itself. The snows and fountains of this enormous range, from the thirty-eighth to the forty-eighth degree of northern latitude, feed, with never-failing supplies, the Missouri and its powerful auxiliary streams. In endeavoring to explore these Alpine heights, and the sources of the Red and Arkansaw rivers, Captain Pike and his party were bewildered amidst snows, and torrents, and precipices. The cold was so intense, that Several of the party had their limbs frostbitten, and were obliged to be aban doned to their fate, by Pike and his surviving companions. In a lateral ridge, separating the valley of the Arkansaw from that of the Platte river, in north latitude forty-one degrees, is a remarkable peak, called the Great White Mountain ; so remarkable, indeed, as to be known to aU the savage tribes for hundreds of miles round, and spoken of in terms of admiration by the Spaniards of NewJVtexico, and which formed the boun dary of their knowledge to the north-west. The altitude of this peak was taken on the base of a mile by Pike, and found to be ten thousand five hundred and eighty-one feet above the level of the meadow at its foot; and the height of this latter was estimated at eight thousand feet above the level of the sea ; in all, eighteen thousand five hundred and eighty-one feet of absolute elevation ; being six thousand feet higher than the peak of Teneriffe, by Humboldt's measurement ; or two thousand eight hundred and ninety-one feet short of that of Chimborazo, admitting the elevation of this' last to be tvventy-one thousand four hundred and seventy-two feet. Captain Pike and his companions never lost sight of this tremendous peak, unless in a valley, for the space of ten weeks, wandering amongst the mountains. What is the elevation at the sources of the Missouri can only be matter of mere conjecture. The level of the river, where they left their canoes, could not be less than six thousand feet above the sea ; but how high the mountains rose above this point the narrative does not inform us, and hardly gives us any data to decide. The central chain, as usual, is marked in the map as highest, and covered with snow during the whole year. The latitude is between forty-five and forty-seven degrees ; and between these parallels, in Europe, the lower limit of perpetual congelation is fixed at from nine to ten thousand feet above the level of the sea ; and it can hardly be supposed that the summits of this snowy range were less than eight thousand five hundred or nine thousand feet high, making a reasonable allowance for the greater coldness of the American continent. Captain Clarke allows this central range to be sixty miles across, and that thirty farms may he distinguished at any one view from its top by the unaided eye. Its side is an abrupt precipice nine hundred feet deep,, and nearly perpen dicular. The valley underneath appears to be as much below the level as the top of the mountain towers above it. This precipice is called the Lover's Leap. To those who are in the valley it looks like an immense wall stretching up to heaven. At its base lie whitening in the sun the bones of various animals that had incautiously advanced too near its edge. Its summit is often surrounded with clouds. 'The gradual ascent of the country from the seacoast to this western extremity of the State, added to the height of this mountain, must place its top more than four thousand feet above the level of the Atlantic ocean. Large masses of snow tumble down from the side of this mountain in the winter season, the fall of which has been heard seven miles. Its summit is the resort of deer and bears. "Wild pigeons reson to it in such flocks as sometimes to break the limbs of the trees on which they alight * PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 23 the shortest road across the different ranges is at least one hundred and forty miles, besides two hundred miles more, before we can reach a navi gable river. In their first passage across these tremendous mountains, the American party suffered every thing which hunger, cold, and fatigue, could impose, during three weeks. They were compelled to melt the snow for their portable soup; many of their horses (which they used for conveying their "baggage, or for riding,) were foundered by falls from precipices ; the men became feeble through excessive toil, and sickly from want of food, as there are no wild animals in these inhospitable regions; and, but for an occasional meal of horse flesh, the whole party must have perished. In returning home from the mouth of the Columbia, their state was little bet ter. Having again come in sight of the mountains, in the middle of May, they attempted to pass them but in vain, on account of the snow, which lay from six to ten feet deep, and were obliged to return, and rest in the plains to the twenty-fourth of June. These mountains are, therefore, a far more formidable barrier to the Pacific, than the AUeghanies to the back eountry, and can be passed with great difficulty only for three months in the year, namely, from the latter end of June to the latter end of Sep tember. We are indebted to the Missouri Advocate for the following account of General Ashley's discoveries in this quarter. He considers it quite possi ble to form a route across this formidable barrier to the Pacific Ocean. The route proposed, after leaving St. Louis, and passing generally on the north side of the Missouri river, strikes the river Platte, a short distance above its junction with the Missouri ; theri pursues the waters of the Platte to their sources, and, in continuation, crosses the head-waters of what Gen eral Ashley believes to be the Rio Colorado of the west, and strikes, for the first time, a ridge or single connecting chain of mountains, running from north to south. This however presents no difficulty, as a wide gap is found apparently prepared for the purpose of a passage. After passing this gap, the route proposed falls directly on a river, called by George Ash ley the Buenaventura, and runs from that river to the Pacific Ocean. The face of the country, in general, is a continuation of high, rugged, and bar ren mountains ; the summits of which are either timbered with pine, quak ing-asp, or cedar ; or, in fact, almost entirely destitute of vegetation. Other parts are hilly and undulating ; and the valleys and table-lands (except on the borders of water-courses, which are more or less timbered with cot ton-wood and willows,) are destitute of wood ; but this indispensable arti cle is substituted by an herb, called by the hunters wild sage, which grows from one to five feet high, and is found in great abundance in most parts ofthe country. The sterility ofthe country generally is almost incredible: That part of it, however, bounded by the three ranges of mountains, and watered by the sources of the supposed Buenaventura, is less sterile ; yet the proportion of arable land, even within those limits, is comparatively small ; and no district of the country visited by General Ashley, or of which he obtained satisfactory information, offers inducements to civilized people, sufficient to justify an expectation of permanent settlement. The. river visited by General Ashley, and which he believes to be the Rio Colo rado of the west, is, at about fifty miles from its most northern source ; eighty yards wide. At this point, General Ashley embarked and descend ed the river, which gradually increased in width to one hundred and eighty 2* 24 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. yards. In passing through the mountains, the channel is contracted to fifty or sixty yards, and so much obstructed by rocks as to make its descent extremely dangerous, and its ascent impracticable. After descending this river about four hundred miles, General Ashley shaped his course north wardly, and feU upon what he supposed to be the sources of -the Buenaven tura ; he represents those branches as bold streams, from twenty to fifty yards wide, forming a junction a few miles below where he crossed them, and then emptying into a lake (called Grand Lake,) represented by the Indians as being forty or fifty miles wide, and sixty or seventy miles long. This information is strengthened by that of the white hunters, who have explored parts of the lake. The Indians represent, that at the extreme west end of this lake, a large river flows out, and runs in a westward di rection. General Ashley, when on those waters, at first thought it proba ble they were the sources of the Multnomah : but the account given by the Indians, supported by the opinion of some men belonging to the Hud son Bay Company, confirms him in the belief, that they are the head-waters of the river represented as the Buenaventura. To the north and north west from the Grand Lake, the country is represented as abounding in salt. . The Indians west of the mountains are remarkably weU disposed towards the citizens of the United States ; the Eutaws and Flatheads are particularly so, and express a great wish that the Americans should visit them frequently. A large number of lateral ranges project to the south-east, east, and north-east of the main range. Where the Missouri enters the plains, is the most eastern projection ; and from where the Jaune leaves the snowy range, there is a lateral range, running more than two hundred miles_ south-east, which is intersected by the Bighorn river. As these mountains have not yet been explored by the eye of geological science, it is impossible to say any thing respecting their component parts ; but, from every thing that we can learn from Pike and Clarke, they seem to be chiefly granitic. No volcanoes have yet been discovered amongst them ; but strange unu sual noises were heard from the mountains, by the American party, when stationed above the falls of the Missouri. These sounds seemed to come from the north-west. ' Since our arrival at the falls,' says the narrative, ' we have repeatedly heard a strange noise coming from the mountains, a little to the north of west. It is heard at different periods of the day and night : sometimes when the'air is' perfectly still and unclouded, and con sists of one stroke only, or of five or six discharges in quick succession. It is loud, 'and resembles precisely the sound of a six pounder at the distance of three miles. The Indians had before mentioned this noise like thun der, but we had paid no attention lo it. The watermen also of the party say, that the Pawnees and Ricaras give the same account of a similar noise made in the Black Mountains, to the westward of them.' Again, near the same place, it is afterwards said : ' They heard, about sunset, two discharges of the tremendous mountain artillery.' Not a word more occurs upon the subject ; but we know that similar explosions take place among the mountains near the head of the Washita, and among the moun tains of Namhi, near the sources of the Red river. In our present state of ignorance respecting these mountains, it is impos sible to give a solution of this phenomenon, though it may proceed from some distant volcano, which, like Stromboli, may be in a state of constant PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 25 activity, but more irregularly. It is well known that the sounds of volca-, noes are heard at very great distances, as at Guatimala, where the sound of the volcano of Cotopaxi was distinctly heard, though more than two hundred and twenty miles distant. Some indications of volcanoes had been seen by the American party, when ascending the river, about sixty miles below the mouth of the Little Missouri, where they passed several very high bluffs on the south side, one of which had been lately a burning volcano, as the pumice stones lay very thick around it, and emitted a strong sulphureous smell. Similar appearances are mentioned by Macken zie, as taking place among the Rocky Mountains on their eastern side, in north latitude fifty-six and one hundred and twenty degrees west longi tude. ' Mr. Mackay,' says he, ' informed me, that in passing over the mountains, he observed several chasms in the earth that emitted heat and smoke, which diffused a strong sulphureous stench.' From all these circumstances combined, it is natural to infer that the sound proceeds from some very distant and unknown volcano. On the west side of the Mississippi, and about midway between the Rocky Mountains and the AUeghanies, lies a broad range of mountains, called the Ozarks, six or seven hundred miles in length, about one hundred broad, and having an ,elevation varying from one to two thousand feet above the sea. This range of low mountains, which is penetrated by two branches of the Mississippi, the Arkansas and Red river, was nearly alto gether unknown till within these few years. It is parallel with the range of the AUeghanies, making an angle of about forty degrees with the great range of the Andes. As far as the Ozarks have yet been explored, the granites and older primitive rocks are found at the lowest part, being sur mounted by those of more recent formation. The reverse of this is observ ed in the Rocky Mountains. A similar range of broken and hilly country commences on the Ouisconsin river and extends north to Lake Superior. It is caUed the Wisconsin or Ouisconsin Hills. GENERAL REMARKS ON MOUNTAINS. Mountains are supposed .by naturalists to have different origins, and to date their commencement from various periods. Those which form a chain, and are covered with snow, are accounted primitive, or antediluvian. They greatly ex ceed all other mountains in height; in general their elevation is very sudden, and their ascent steep and difficult. They are composed of vast masses of quartz, des titute of shells, and of all organized marine matter ; and appear to descend almost per pendicularly into the body of the earth, pf this'kind are the Pyrenees, the Alps, the Himmaleh ranges, the Atlas, and the Andes. Another class are of volcanic origin. These are either detached or surrounded with groups of lower hills, l!he soil of which is heaped up in disorder, and consists of gravel and other loose substances. Among these are Mount JEtna and Vesuvius. A third class of mountains, whether grouped or isolated, are such as are composed of stratified earth or stone, consisting of different substances of various colors. The interior consists of numerous strata, almost hori zontally disposed, containing shells, marine productions, and fish bones in great quan tities. The strata of mountains which are lower and of more recent date, sometimes appear to rise from the side of primitive mountains which they surround, and of which they form the first step in the ascent. The mountains in Asia are the most elevated and imposing in the world. Of these he Himmaleh chain is the highest; one of its peaks, Dhawalaghiri, reaching the alti- ude of twenty-eight thousand and ninety-six feet, and. several exceeding twenty-four housand. Africa has some extensive chains of mountains, but the altitudes of only a "ew have been ascertained. Mont Blanc is the highest summit of Europe, reaching an elevation of fifteen thousand seven hundred and thirty-five feet. The Andes of South 4 3 26 BOOK OF THF UNITED STATES. America present the most striking and stupendous features ; cataracts, volcanoes, and immense chasms of an almost perpendicular descent. Chimborazo, the highest point ol the Andes, reaches twenty-one thousand four hundred and sixty-four feet ; in many places the peaks rise to upwaras of twenty thousand feet, though in others they sink to- less than one thousand. In general, all the chains of mountains in the same continent, seem to have a mutua. connection more or less apparent ; they form a sort of frame-work to the land, and ap pear in the origin of things to haye determined the shape which it was to assume ; but this analogy, were we to generalize too much, would lead us into error. There are many chains, which have very httle, or, rather, no affinity to each other. Such are the mountains of Scandinavia and of Scotland, mountains as independent as the character of the nations who inhabit them. TABLE OF THE PRINCIPAL ELEVATIONS IN THE UNITED STATES. 1. Long's Peak, the highest ofthe Rocky Mountains, Missouri Territory, . . 12,000 ¦2. James's Peak, ... do. ... do. .. . 11,500 3. Inferior peaks of the Rocky Mountains, varying from 10,700 to ... 7,200 4. Mt. "Washington, the highest of the White Hills, New Hampshire, . . 6,234 5. Inferior peaks of the White Hills, varying from 5,328 to 4,356 6. Mooshillock Mt., Grafton County, New Hampshire, 4,636 7. Mansfield or Chin Mt., Chittenden County, Vermont, 4,279 8. Camels' Rump, ... do ... . do 4,188 9. Shrewsbury Peak, Rutland County, . . do '4,034 10. Saddleback Mt., Berkshire County, Massachusetts, 4,000 11. Table Mountain, Pendleton District, South Carolina, 4 000 12. Peaks of Otter, Bedford County, Virginia, 3*955 13. KUlington Peak, Rutland County, Vermont, ' . ' 3924 14. Round Top, the highestof the Catskill Mountains, New York, . . . 3'804 15. High Peak, one of the highest of do. . do. . . do 3 718 16. Grand Monadnock, Cheshire County, New Hampshire, 3'71S 17. Manchester Mountain, Bennington County, Vermont, ' 3V06 18. Ascutney Mountain, Windsor ... do. .. do 3*320 19. Ozark Mountains, Arkansas Territory, average height, . . .".'.'.' 3*200 20. Wachuset Mountain, or Mount Adams, Worcester County, Mass., . ' . 2'990 21. Whiteface Mountain, Essex County, New York, ' 2690 22. Kearsarge Mountain, Hillsborough County, New Hampshire, . " . " . ' . 2'460 23. Alleghany Mountains, average height, 2' 400 24. Porcupine Mountains, Chippeway County, south of Lake Superior, 7 ". .2200 25. Cumberland Mountains, average height, 2*200 26. Moose Mountain, New Hampshire, , '.' ' 2'fl08 27. New Beacon, the highest of the Highlands, New York, . .'.'.' ' . ' 1JB58 27 CHAPTER II— VALLEYS. The Valley of the Mississippi is the largest in the world ; and differs from any other of very great extent, in the peculiar distinctness of its outline. It is bounded south by the gulf of Mexico, west by the Rocky Mountains, north by the great lakes of British America, and east by the Apalachian Mountains. Its general surface may be classed under three distinct aspects ; the thickly timbered, the barren, and the prairie country. This valley extends from the twenty-ninth to the forty-ninth parallel of north latitude, and exhibits every variation of temperature from the climate of Canada to that of Louisiana. It is a wide extent of level country, in which the various rivers, inclosed betweentwo chains of mountains three thousand miles apart, find a common centre, and discharge their waters into the sea by a single channel. Geologically considered,- this immense valley presents every where the aspect of what is called secondary formation. Its prevailing rocks are carbonate of lime, disposed in the most regular lamina, masses of limestone, in which seashells or organic remains are imbedded, retaining their distinct and original form. At every step, is presented the aspect of a country once covered by lakes or seas. The soil, stones, and exuvia? of lake or river formation, are, to all appearance, of comparatively recent origin. In the alluvial soils, to the depth of from twenty to an hundred feet, are found pebbles, smoothed by the evident attrition of waters, having the appearances of those masses of smoothed pebbles that are thrown on the seashore by the dashing of the surge. Leaves, branches, and logs are also found at great distances from the- points where wood is seen at present, and at great depths below the surface. In the most solid blocks of lime stone, split for building, deers' horns and other animal exuvia? are found incorporated in the solid stone. ¦ 'From its character of recent formation,' says Mr. Flint, 'from the prevalence of limestone every where, from the decomposition which it has undergone, and is constantly undergoing, from the prevalence of decohipo- sed limestone in the soil, probably, results another general attribute of this vaUey — its character generally for uncommon fertility. We would not be understood to assert, that the country is every where alike fertile. It has ts sterile sections. There are here, as elsewhere, infinite diversities of soil, from the richest alluvions, to the most miserable flint knobs ; from the tangled cane brakes, to the poorest pine hills. There are, too, it is well known, towards the Rocky Mountains, wide belts that have a surface of sterile sands, or only covered with a sparse vegetation of weeds and coarse grass. But of the country in general, the most cursory observer must have remarked, that, compared with lands, apparently of the same character in other regions, the lands here obviously show marks of singular fertility. The most ordinary, third rate, oak lands, will bring successive crops of wheat and maize, without any manuring, and with but little care of cultivation. The pine lands of the southern regions are in many places cultivated for years, without any attempts at manuring them. The same fact is visible in the manner in which vegetation in this country resists drought. 28 " BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. It is a proverb on the good lands, that if there be moisture enough to bring the corn to germinate, and come up, they will have a crop, if no more rain faUs until the harvest. We have a thousand times observed this crop continuing to advance towards a fresh and vigorous maturity, under a pressure of drought, and a continuance of cloudless ardor of sun, that would have burned up and destroyed vegetation in the Atlantic country. ' We have supposed this fertility to arise, either from an uncommon pro portion of vegetable matter in the soil; from the saline impregnations mixed with the earth, as evidenced in the numberless licks, and springs of salt water, and the nitrous character of the soil, wherever, as in caves, or under buildings, it is sheltered from moisture ; or, as we have remarked, from the general diffusion of dissolved limestone, and marly mixtures ovei the surface. In some way, spread by the waters, diffused through the soil, or the result of former decomposition, there is evidently much of the quick ening and fertilizing power of lime mixed with the soil.' The greatest length of the Valley of the Missouri is twelve hundred miles, its greatest breadth seven hundred. In the direction of the western rivers, the inclined plain of the Missouri extends eight hundred miles from the Chippewayan Mountains, and rather more than that distance from south to north, from the southern branches of the Kansas, to the extreme heads of the northern confluents of the valley. Ascending from the lower verge of this widely extended plain, wood becomes more and more scarce, until one naked surface "spreads on all sides. Even the ridges and chains of mountains partake of these traits of desolation. The celebrated valley called the American Bottom extends along the eastern bank of the Mississippi to the Piasa Hills, four miles above the mouth of the Missouri. It is several miles in width, and has a soil of astonishing fertility. It has all the disadvantages attending tracts of recent alluvion, the most valuable parts of it being liable to be swept away by the current of the Mississippi. ' But the inexhaustible fertility of its soil,' says Major Long, ' makes amends for the insalubrity of the air, and the incon venience of a flat and marshy situation, and this valley is undoubtedly destined to become one of the most populous parts of America. We were formerly shown here a field that had been cultivated, without manure, one hundred years in-succesfeion, and which when we saw it, (in August, 1816,) was covered with a very luxuriant growth of corn.' The Ohio Valley is divided by the river into two unequal sections, leaving on the north-west side eighty thousand, and on the south-east one hundred and sixteen thousand square miles. The river flows in a deep ravine five hundred and forty-eight miles long ina straight line, and nine hundred and ninety-eight, by the windings of the stream. In its natural state the Ohio valley, with the exception of the central plain, was covered with a dense forest. Open savannahs commence as far east as the sources of the Muskingum. Like the plain itself, those savannahs expand to the west ward, and on the Illinois open into immense prairies. This valley may be regarded as a great plain inclining from the Apalachian system of the north west, obliquely and deeply cut by the Ohio and its numerous confluents, into chasms from an elevation of four hundred feet to nearly the level ol the streams. On the higher parts of the vaUey, the banks of the river rise by bold acclivities which wear almost a mountainous aspect. This hold' ness of outline imperceptibly softens in descending the Ohio, and ob PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 29 approaching the Mississippi, an extent of level woodland bounds the hori zon. Ascending the rivers of the south-east slope, the scenery becomes more and more rugged, until it terminates in the ridges of the Apalachian chains : if the rivers of the north-west slope are followed, on the contrary, we find the landscape broken and varied near the Ohio, but around their sources flat and monotonous. The VaUey of the Hudson varies extremely in fe width, being in some places contracted to the immediate neighborhood of the stream ; in others extending forty miles. On the borders of the river the land is generally elevated. The Mohawk is bordered by two long ranges of hills presenting Valley of the Mohawk. little variety of aspect. In the early part of its course it flows through extensive flats. The valleys of the Susquehanna and its branches are remarkably irregular. These streams traverse the whole width of the Apalachian chain of mountains, sometimes flowing in wide valleys between Earallel ranges for fifty or sixty miles in a direct course, and at other times reaking through the mountain ridges. The valleys between the different ranges of the great chain extending throughout Pennsylvania are often twenty or thirty miles in width with a hilly or broken surface. The only large valley in North Carolina lies between the Blue Ridge, and a parallel range called the Iron, Bald, and Smoky Mountains. It runs north-east and south-west, is one hundred and eighty miles in length, and from ten to forty in width. The valleys of the small rivers of Tennessee are singularly beautiful and fertile, surpassing all others of the same description in the Western States. The valleys of the Cumberland and Tennessee differ little from the allu vions of the other great rivers of the west. The Valley ofthe Connecticut is one of the most celebrated valleys of the United States for-its fertility and beauty. It is a large tract of land extend- 3* 30 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES ing from Long Island sound to Hereford Mountains in Canada, five miles beyond the forty-fifth degree of latitude. In the largest sense, it is from five to forty-five miles in width, and its surface is composed of a succession ot hills, valleys and plains. The interval lands begin about twelve or fourteen miles from the mouth of the river. These are formed by a long and con tinued alluvion. The' tributary streams of the Connecticut run every where through a soft and rich soil, considerable quantities of which, par ticularly the lighter and finer particles, are from time to time washed into their channels, by occasional currents springing from rains and melted snows. Wherever the stream mp ves with an uniform current these parti cles are carried along with it; but where the current is materially checked, they are in greater or less quantities deposited. In this manner a shoal is formed at first* which afterwards rises into dry land; this is almost invari ably of good quality, but those parts which are lowest are commonly the - best, as being the riiost frequently overflowed, and therefore most enriched by successive deposits' of slime. Of these parts, that division* which is farthest down the river is the most productive, consisting of finer particles, and being more plentifully covered with this manure. In the spring these grounds are almost annually overflowed;": In the months of March and April, the snows, which in the northern parts of New England are usually deep, and the rains, which "at this time of the year, are generally copious, raise the river from fifteen to twenty feet, and extend the breadth of its waters in some places a mile and a half or two miles. Almost aU the slime conveyed down the current at this season, is deposited on these- lands, for here, principaUy, ' the water becomes quiescent, and permits the -earthy particles to subside ; this deposit is a rich manure ; the lands dressed with it are preserved in their full strength, and being regularly enriched by the hand of nature,, cannot but be highly valuable. Nor are these grounds less distinguished by their beauty. The form of most of them is elegant ; * river passing through them becomes, almost of course, winding; the «*rth of which they are composed is of a uniform texture, the impressions made by the stream upon the border are also nearly uniform ; hence this border is almost universally a handsome arch, with a neat margin, fre quently ornamented with a fine fringe of shrubs and trees. Nor is the surface of these grounds less pleasing; their terraced forms and undulations are eminently handsoriie, and their universal fertility makes a cheerful impression on every eye. A great part of them is formed into meadows which are here more profitable, and every where more beautiful than lands devoted to any other culture ; here they are extended from five to five hundred acres, and. are every where covered with a verdure pecu liarly rich and vivid. The vast fields also which are not in meadow, exhibit all the productions of the climate, interspersed in parallelograms, divided only by mathematical lines, and mingled in a charming confusion. In many places, large and thrifty orchards, and every where forest trees standing singly, of great height and graceful figures, diversify the land scape. Through its whole extent this valley is almost a continual succes sion of delightful scenery. The Connecticut is one of the most beautiful rivers in the world ; the purity, salubrity and sweetness of its waters, the frequency and elegance of its meadows, its absolute freedom from aquatic vegetables, the enchanting elegance and grandeur of its banks, sometimes consisting of a smooth and winding beach, here covered with rich verdure. • PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 31 there fringed with bushes, now crowned with lofty trees, and now formed 6y the intruding hill, the rude bluff, and the shaggy mountain ; these are objects which no description can equal. GENERAL REMARKS ON VALLEYS. Valleys are formed by the separation of chains of mountains or of hills. Those which are formed between high mountains, are commonly narrow and long, as if they had originally been only fissures dividing their respective chains, or for the passage of extensive torrents. The angles of their direction sometimes exhibit sin gular symmetry. In the Pyrenees there are said to be valleys whose salient and re entrant angles so perfectly correspond, that if the force which separated them were to. act m a contrary direction, and bring their sides together again, they would unite so exactly that even the fissure would not be perceived. There ar.e some highly situated valleys containing rivers and lakes which have no outlets or streams. Blost high valleys have their surface upon a level with the summits of the secondary mountains in the neigh borhood. The lower valleys widen as they recede from the secondary mountains from which they originate, and gradually lose themselves in the plains. Their opposite angles correspond fegularly, but are very obtuse. The sort of narrow passage by which we entier into these high valleys is called a pass or defile.* Between Norway and Sweden is one of these passes, formed by several masses of rock cut by nature into the shape of long parallelograms, and which have between them a passage shut in by perpendicular walls. This pass is near Skiserdal ; another of the -same kind is at Portfeld, or the Mountain of the Gate. These openings exactly resemble those by which the Hudson passes through successive chains of moun tains, which seem desirous of checking its course. The Cordilleras of the Andes present the most stupendous passes of this kind that are known ; they are from four to five thousand feet deep. The valleys of the Hudson and Connecticut are equalled by few in the old world for natural beauty and romantic scenery. Of the valleys of Europe, that of the Rhine is most celebmted ; and is only more interesting than the Hudson on account of its old historical associations, its populous cities, and the picturesque ruins and massive monu ments of architecture which frown upon its banks. 3 32 CHAPTER III.— PRAIRIES AND PLAINS. One of the most remarkable features of the western country consists in its extensive prairies or savannahs, which prevail in all the vast region between the Alleghany and the Rocky Mountains, and also to the west ol the Rocky Mountains. When seen from the summits of the Mexican and the Rocky Mountains, they seem absolutely boundless to the view. They are not to be considered' merely as dead flat, but undulating into gentle swelling lawns, and expanding into spacious valleys, in the centre of which is always found a little timber, growing on the banks of the brooks and rivulets of the finest water. Pike, who viewed them from the summit of the Blue Mountain, under the source of the Arkansaw, says\ ' the un bounded prairie was overhung with clouds, which seemed like the ocean in a storm, wave piled on wave, and foaming ; while the sky over our heads was perfectly clear, and the prospect was truly sublime.' In these vast prairies the soil is dry, sandy, with gravel ; but the moment we ap proach a stream, the land becomes more humid, with small timber. It is probable that these steppes or prairies were never well wooded, as, from the earliest ages, the aridity of the soil, having so few water-courses run ning through it, and these being principally dry in summer, no sufficient nourishment has been afforded to the growth of timber. In all timbered land, the annual discharge of the leaves, with the continual decay of old trees and branches, creates a manure and moisture, which are preserv ed from the heat — the sun not being permitted to direct his rays perpen dicularly, but to shed them only obliquely through the foliage. But in Upper Louisiana, a barren soil, dried up for eight months in the year, pre sents neither moisture nor nutriment for the growth of wood. These vast plains of Louisiana, near the upper courses of the Ar kansaw, with its tributary streams, and the head-waters of the Kanzas. White and Grand Osage rivers, may become in time like the sandy deserts of Africa ; ' for,' says Pike, ' I saw in my route, in various places. tracts of many leagues, where the wind had thrown up the sand in all the fancied forms of the ocean's rolling waves, and on which not a single speck of vegetation appeared.' From this circumstance Pike deduces the follow ing remark : ' From these immense prairies may arise a great advantage to the United States, namely, the restriction of our population to some certain limits, and thereby a continuation of the Union. Our citizens being so prone to rambling, and extending themselves on the frontiers, Will, through necessity, be compelled to limit their extent on the west to the borders of the Missouri and Mississippi ; while they leave the prairies, in capable of cultivation, to the wandering and uncivilized aborigines of the country.' These prairies, from the borders of the Mississippi, on the east, to the base of the Mexican Alps on the west, rise with a continually in creasing acclivity for many hundred miles, till, at the base of the mountains. they attain an elevation of eight thousand feet, as we are informed by Pike, which is greater than the elevated level of the great desert of Gobi, on the north-west of China, estimated by Du Haide to be five thousand five PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 33 hundred and eleven feet above the level of the sea, or the great arid desert, to the north of the cape of Good Hope, traversed by the Orange river, and lately visited by the Rev. Mr. Campbell, the elevation of which is estimated by Colonel Gordon at six thousand five hundred and sixty-one feet above the level of the sea. In addition to the aridity of the Louisiana prairies, they are so impregnated with nitre, and other salts, as to taint the waters that flow in various directions. Pike says, that for leagues togeth er, they are covered with saline incrustations; and a number of tributary streams descending into the Arkansaw and Kanzas rivers are perfect sa lines ; and beyond the river Platte, as we are informed by Colonel Lewis, the lands are not only destitute of timber, but even of good water, of which there is but a small quantity in the creeks, and even that is brackish. The same saline incrustations pervade the prairies on the Upper Missouri ; and the same want of timber, little or no dew, with very little rain, continues till the neighborhood ofthe mountains. The calcareous districts, which form the great portion of the region west of the AUeghanies, present certain tracts-entirely divested of trees, which are called barrens, though capable of being rendered productive. The cause of this peculiarity has not been accurately examined. Those parts of this region which are elevated three or four hundred feet, and lie along deeply depressed beds of rivers, are clothed with the richest forests in the world. The Ohio flows under the shade of the plane and the tulip tree, like a canal dug in a nobleman's park ; while the lianas, extending from tree to tree, form graceful arches of flowers and foliage over branches of the liver. Passing to the south, the wild orange tree mixes with the odori ferous and the common laurel. The straight silvery column of the papaw fig, which rises to the height of twenty feet, and is crowned with a canopy of large indented leaves, forms one of the most striking ornaments of this enchanting scene. Above all these, towers the majestic magnolia, which shoots up from that calcareous soil to the height of more than one hundred feet. Its trunk, perfectly straight, is surmounted with a thick and expand ed head, the pale green foliage of which affects a conical figure. From the centre of the flowery crown which terminates its branches, a flower of the purest white rises, having the form of a rose, and to which succeeds a crimson cone. This, in opening, exhibits rounded seed of the finest coral red, suspended by delicate threads six inches long. Thus, by its flowers, its fruit, and its gigantic size, the magnolia surpasses all its rivals of the forest. The following exceUent description of the prairie country is from the pen of Mr. James Hall. ' That these vast plains should be totally des titute of trees, seems to be an anomaly in the economy of nature. Upon the mind of an American, especially, aceustomed to see new lands clothed with timber, and to associate the idea of damp and silent forests with that of a new country, the appearance of sunny plains, and a diversified land scape, untenanted by man, and unimproved by art, is singular and striking. Perhaps if our imaginations were divested of those associations, the subject would present less difficulty ; and if we could reason abstractly, it might be as easy to account for the existence of a prairie as of a forest. ' It is natural to suppose that the first covering of the earth would be composed of such plants as arrived at maturity in the shortest time. • Annual plants would ripen, and scatter their seeds many times before trees 5 34 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. and shrubs would acquire the power of reproducing their own species. In the mean time, the propagation of the latter would be likely to be retarded by a variety of accidents — the frosts would nip their tender stems m the winter — fire would consume, or the blasts would shatter them — and the wild grazing animals would bite ther_v*bff, or tread them under foot ; while many of their seeds, particularly such as assume the form of nuts or fruits, would be devoured by animals. The grasses, which are propagated both by the root and by seed, are exempt from the operation of almost all these casualties. Providence has, with unerring wisdom, fitted every pro duction of nature to sustain itself against the accidents to which it is most exposed, and has given to those plants which constitute the food of animals, a remarkable tenacity of life ; so that although bitten off, and trodden, and even burned, they still retain the vital principle. That trees have a similar power of self protection, if we may so express it, is evident from their present existence in a state of nature. We only assume that in the earliest state of being, the grasses would have the advantage over plants less hardy, and of slower growth ; and that when both are struggling together for the possession of the soil, the former Would at first gain the ascendancy ; although the latter, in consequence of their superior size and strength,, would finally, if they should ever get possession of any portion of the soil, entirely overshadow and destroy their humble rivals. ' We have no means of determining at what period the fires began to sweep over these plains, because we know nqt when they began to be inhabited. It is quite possible they might have been occasionally fired by lightning, previous to the introduction of that_elementjby; human_afir.en.cjs. At all events, it is very evident that as soon as fire began to be used in this country by its inhabitants, the annual burning of the prairies must have commenced. One of the peculiarities of this climate is the dryness of its summers and autumns. A drought often commences in August, which, with the exception of a few showers towards the close of that month, con tinues throughout the season. The autumnal months are almost invariably clear, warm, and dry. The immense mass of vegetation with which this fertile soil loads itself during summer, is suddenly withered, and the whole surface ofthe earth is covered with combustible materials. This is especiaUy true of the prairies where the grass grows to the height of from six to ten feet, and being entirely exposed to the sun and wind, dries with great rapidity. A single spark of fire, falling any where upon these plains at such a time, would instantly kindle a blaze, which would spread on every side, and continue its destructive course as long as it should find fuel. Travellers have described these fires as sweeping with a rapidity which renders it hazardous to fly before them. Such is not the case ; or it is true onlv of a few rare instances. The flames often extend across a wide prairie, and advance in a long line. No sight can be more sublime than to behold in the night a stream of fire of several miles in breadth, advancing across these wide plains, leaving behind it a black cloud of smoke, and throwing before it a vivid glare which lights up the whole landscape with the bril liancy of noonday. A roaring and cracking sound is heard like the rushing pf a hurricane. The flame, which in general rises to the height of about twenty feet, is seen sinking and darting upwards in spires, precisely as the waves dash against each other, and as the spray flies up into the air ; and the whole appearance is often that of a boiling and flaming sea, riolently PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 35 agitated. The progress of the fire is so slow, and the heat so great, that every combustible object in its course is consumed. Wo to the farmer whose ripe cornfields extend into the prairie, and who suffers the tall grass to grow in contact with his fences ! The whole labor of the year is swept away in a few hours. But such accidents are comparatively unfrequent, as the preventive is simple, and easily applied. ' It will be readily seen, that as soon as these fires commenced, all the young timber within their range must have been destroyed. The whole state of Illinois, being one vast plain, the fires kindled iii different places, would sweep over the whole surface, with a few exceptions, of which we are now to speak. In the bottom-lands, and along the margins of streams, the grass and herbage remain green until late in the autumn, owing to the moisture of the soil. Here the fire would stop for want of fuel, and the shrubs would thus escape from year to year, and the outer bark acquire sufficient hardness to protect the inner and more vital parts of the tree. The margins of the streams would thus become fringed with thickets, which, by shading the ground, would destroy the grass, while it would prevent the moisture of the soil from being rapidly evaporated, so that even the fallen leaves would never become so thoroughly dry as the grass of the prairies, and the fire here would find comparatively little fuel. These thickets grow up into strips of forests; which continue to extend until they reach the high table-land of the prairie ; and so true is this, in fact, that we see the timber now, not only covering all the bottom-lands and hill sides, skirting the streams, but wherever a ravine or hollow extends from the low grounds up into the plain, these are filled with young timber of more recent growth. But the moment we leave the level plane of the country, we see the evidences of a continual struggle between the forest and the prairie. At one place, where the fire has on some occasion burned with greater fierceness than usual, it has successfully assailed the edges of the forest, and made deep inroads ; at another, the forest has pushed out long points or capes into the prairie. 'It has been suggested that the prairies were caused by hurricanes, which had blown down the timber and left it in a condition to be consumed by fire, after it was dried by laying on the ground. A single glance at the immense region in which the prairie surface predominates, must refute this idea. Hurricanes are quite limited in their sphere of action. Although they sometimes extend for miles in length, their track is always narrow, and often but a few hundred yards in breadth. It is a well known fact, that wherever the timber has been thus prostrated, a dense and tangled thicket shoots up immediately, and, protected by the fallen trees, grows with uncommon vigor; ' Some have imagined that our prairies have been lakes ; but this hy pothesis is not tenable. If the whole state of Illinois is imagined fo have been one lake, it ought to be shown that it has a general concavity of sur face. But so far from this being true, the contrary is the fact ; the highest parts of the state are in its centre. If we suppose, as some assert, that each prairie was once a lake, we are met by the same objection; as a general rule, the prairies are highest in the middle, and have a gradual declivity towards the sides ; and when we reach the timber, instead of finding banks corresponding with the shores of a lake, we almost invariably find valleys, ravines, and water-courses depressed considerably below the general level of the plain. «# 36 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. ' Wherever hills are found rising above the common plane of the cotmtry. they are clothed with timber ; and the same fact is true of all broken lands. This fact affords additional evidence in support of our theory. Most of the land in such situations is poor ; the grass would be short, and if burned at all, would occasion but little heat. In other spots, the progress of the fire would be checked by rocks and ravines ; and in no case would there be that accumulation of dry material which is found on the fertile plain, nor that broad, unbroken surface, and free exposure, which are necessary to afford fall scope to the devouring element. 'By those who have never seen this region, a very tolerable idea may be formed of the manner in which the prairie and forest alternate, by drawing a colored line of irregular thickness, along the edges of all the water-courses laid down on the map. This border would generally vary from one to five or six miles, and often extend to twelve. As the streams approach each other, these borders would approach or come in contact ; and aU the intermediate spaces not thus colored would be prairie. It would be seen that in the point formed by the junction of the Ohio and Mississippi, the forest would cover all the ground ; and that, as these rivers diverge, and their tributaries spread out, the prairies would predominate.' Between, the Platte river, and the head-waters of the Colorado arid Sabine rivers, there is an extensive desert tract, which has been called the Great American Desert, stretching from the Ozark Mountains to the Chip- pewan. Over this desert the members of Long's expedition travelled nearly a thousand miles. The intense reflection of light and heat, from this tract, added much to the fatigue and suffering of their journey. ' We often met with extensive distiicts covered entirely with loose and fine sand, blown from the adjacent hills. In the low plains along the river where the soil is permanent, it is highly impregnated with saline substances, and too sterile to produce any thing except a few stinted carices and rushes.' As we approached the mountains, we felt or fancied a very manifest change in the character of the weather, and the temperature of the air. Mornings and evenings were usually calm, and the heat more oppressive than in the middle of the day. Early in the forenoon, a light and refreshing breeze often sprung up, blowing from the west or south-west, which again subsided on the approach of night. This phenomenon was so often observed, that we were induced to attribute it to tbe operation of the same local cause, which in the neighborhood of the sea produces a diurnal change in the winds, which blow alternately to and from tlie shore. The Rocky Mountains may be considered as forming the shore of that sea of sand, which is traversed by the Platte, and extends northward to the Missouri above the great bend. The rarefaction of the air over this great plain, by the reverberation of the sun's rays during the day, causes an ascending current, which is supplied by the rushing down of the condensed air from the mountains. * * * * For several days the sky had been clear, and in the morning we had observed an unusual degree of transparency in every part of the atmosphere. As the day advanced, and the heat of the sun began to be felt, such quantities of vapor were seen to ascend from every part of the plain, that all objects at a little distance appeared magnified, and variously distorted. An undulating and tremulous motion in ascending lines was manifest over every part of the surface. Commencing soon after sunrise it continued to increase in quantity until the afternoon, when it PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 37 diminished gradually, keeping an even pace with the intensity of the sun's heat. The density of the vapor was often such as to produce the perfect image of a pool of water in every valley upon which we could look down at an angle of about ten degrees. This aspect was several times seen so perfect and beautiful as to deceive almost every one of our party. A herd of bisons, at the distance of a mile, seemed to be standing in a pool of water, and what appeared to us the reflected image was as distinctly seen as the animal itself.* Illusions of this kind are common in the African and Asiatic deserts, as we learn from travellers and from the language of poets.' The Pine Plains are a district of sandy alluvion, bounded by the gra velly soil of Guilderland and Duanesburgh on the south-west, and by the river alluvions of Niskayuna and Watervliet, on the north-east, and cover ing an area of about seventy square miles. This tract is included in a triangle formed by the junction of the Mohawk with the Hudson, and of which the Helleberg, a lofty chain of highlands, visible from the plains at the distance of twenty miles, forms the south-western boundary. Situated near the centre of a state, computed at forty thousand square miles, and containing a population of nearly two million souls, this tract presents the topographical novelty of an unreclaimed desert, :n the heart of one of the oldest counties in the state, and in the midst of a people characterized for enterprise and public spirit. Several attempts have lately been made to bring this tract into cultivation, and from the success which has attended the introduction of gypsum, and other improved modes of agriculture, it is probable the whole will, at some future period, be devoted to the cultivation of the various species of grasses, fruit trees, and esculent roots ; three branches of agriculture to which its sandy soil seems admirably adapted. GENERAL REMARKS ON PLAINS AND PRAIRIES. Plains like valleys are of two classes ; the high plains, which are found between two chains of mountains, are frequently of great extent, and are placed as it were upon the shoulders of secondary mountains ; such are the elevated plains of Tar tary, of Persia, and probably of the interior of Africa. The plains of Quito are twelve thousand feet above the level of the sea ; those of Karakoruih, in Chinese Mongolia, are probably as elevated. The low plains, whose soil is composed of sand, gravel and shells, seem formerly to have been the basins of interior seas. Such are the plains on the north side ofthe Caspian, the large jplain to the south of the Baltic, and that through which the river of the Amazon flows ; the Tehama of Arabia, the Delta of Egypt, and others of a similar nature, which seem to have been once covered by the waters of the ocean and its gulfs. The immense plains cdvered with grass, called prairies in the United States, are the steppes of Asia, and the pampas of Sputh America. * It is common in our own country, says the London Monthly Review, for ground mists to assume the appearance of water, to make a meadow seem inundated, and to change a valley into a lake ; but these mists never reflect the surrounding trees and hills. Hence the mirage must consist of a peculiar gas, of which the particles are combined by a stronger attraction of cohesion than the vapors of real water ; the liquor silkum of the alchemists is described as exhibiting in some circumstances this glossy surface, yet as being equally evanescent. CHAPTER IV.— RIVERS. All the rivers of the United States, of the first magnitude, have their sources, either in the Rocky Mountains, or in elevated spurs projecting from the side^ of that range. Many of the rivers which descend from the western sides of the AUeghanies are of inconsiderable volume, and by no means remarkable for the rapidity or the directness of their course. Those which flow from the eastern and southern sides of these mountains are worthy of extended description, even in the same pages with the great tri butaries of the Mississippi. They afford the .advantages of a good inland navigation to most parts of the states. I. RIVERS WHICH FLOW INTO THE MISSISSIPPI, AND THE GULF OF MEXICO. The Mississippi with its branches drains the great central basin which lies between the Alleghany and the Rocky Mountains. This river has its rise in the table-lands within the territories of the United States, in north latitude forty-seven degrees and forty-seven minutes, at an altitude of thirteen hundred and thirty feet above the Atlantic, though the country at its source appears like a vast marshy valley. . Mr. Schoolcraft fixes it in Cassina Lake, which is situated seventeen degrees .north of the Balize on the gulf of Mexico, and two thousand nine hundred and seventy-eight miles, pursuing the course of the river. Estimating the distance to Lake La Beesh, its extreme north-western inlet at sixty miles, we have a result of three thousand and thirty-eight miles as the entire length of this won derful river. Mr. Schoolcraft, in his very interesting Journal of Travels, •observed that he believed there was no one then living, beside himself, who had visited both the sources and the mouth of thife celebrated stream. As the description furnished by this gentleman is the clearest and most complete that we find, we have taken the liberty to transfer it to our pages, without mutilation : — ' In deciding upon the physical character of the Mississippi, it may be advantageously considered Under four natural divisions, as indicated'by the permanent differences in the color of its waters — the geological character of its bed and banks, — its forest trees and other vegetable productions, — its velocity, — the difficulties it opposes to navigation, — and other natural ap pearances and circumstances. ' Originating in a region of lakes, upon the table-lands, which throw their waters north into Hudson's Bay,— south into the gulf of Mexico, — and east into the gulf of St. Lawrence — it pursues its course to the falls of Peckagama, a distance of two hundred and thirty miles, through a low prairie, covered with wild rice, rushes, sword grass, and other aquatic plants. During this distance, it is extremely devious as to course and width, sometimes expanding into small lakes, at others, narrowing into a channel of about eighty feet. It is about sixty feet wide on its exit from Red Cedar or Cassina Lake, with an average depth of two feet; but from the junction of the Leech Lake fork, increases to a hundred feet in width, with a corresponding increase of depth Its current, during this distance PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 39 is still and gentle ; and its mean velocity may be estimated at a mile and a half per hour, with a descent of three inches per mile. This is the favorite resort of water-fowl, and amphibious quadrupeds. ' At the falls of Peckagama, the first rock stratum, and the first wooded island, is seen. Here the river has a fall of twenty feet ; and from this to the falls of St. Anthony, a distance of six hundred a'nd eighty-five miles, exhibits its second characteristic division. At the head of the falls of Peckagama, the prairies entirely cease ; and below, a forest of -elm, maple, birch, oak, and ash, overshadows the stream. The black walnut is first seen below Sandy Lake river, and the sycamore below the river De Corbeau. The river, in this distance, has innumerable well wooded islands, and receives a number of tributaries, the largest of which is the river De Cor beau, its great south-western fork. The Pine, Elk, Sac, and Crow rivers, also enter on the west, and the St. Francis and Missisawgaiegon, on the east. The course of the river, although serpentine, is less so, than above the falls of Peckagama, and its bends are not so short and abrupt. Its mean width may be estimated at three hundred feet until the junction of the De Corbeau, and below that at two hundred and fifty yards. Its naviga tion is impeded, agreeably to a memorandum which I have kept, by thirty- five rapids, nineteen ripples, and two minor falls, called the Little and the Big Falls, in all of which the river has an aggregate descent of two hun dred and twenty-four feet in fourteen thousand six hundred and forty yards, or about eight miles. The mean fall of the current, exclusive of the rapids, may be computed at six inches per mile, and its velocity at three miles per hour. In the course of this distance it receives several smaU turbid streams, and acquires a brownish hue, but still preserves its transpa rency, and is palatable drink-water. A few miles above the river Cor beau, on the east side, we observe the first dry prairies, or natural meadows, and they continue to the falls of St. Anthony. These -prairies are the great resort of the buffalo, elk, and deer, and are the only parts ofthe banks of the Mississippi where the buffalo is now to be found. Granite rocks appear at several of the rapids, in rolled pieces, and in beds ; and in some places attain an elevation of one or two hundred feet above the level of the water, but the banks of the river are generally alluvial. ' At the falls of St. Anthony, the river has a perpendicular pitch of forty feet, and from this to its junction with the Missouri, a distance of eight hundred and forty-three miles, it is bounded by limestone bluffs, which attain various elevations from one to four hundred feet, and present a succession of the most sublime and picturesque views. This forms the third, characteristic change of the Mississippi. The river prairies cease, and the rocky bluffs commence precisely at the falls of St. Anthony. Nine miles below it receives the St. Peter's from the west, and is succes sively swelled on that side by the Ocano, Iowa, Turkey, Desmoines, and Salt rivers, and on the east by the St. Croix, Chippeway, Black, Ouiscon sin, Rock, and Illinois. One hundred miles below the falls of St. An thony, the river expands into a lake, called Pepin, which is twenty-four miles long and four in width. It is, on issuing from this lake, that the river first exhibits, in a striking mariner, those extensive and moving sand bars, innumerable islands and channels, and drifts and snags, which con tinue to characterize it to thfi ocean. Its bends from this point onward are largeT, and its course more direct ; and although its waters are adulterated 40 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. by several dark colored and turbid streams, it may still be considered trans parent. The principal impediments to navigation in this distance are the Desmoines, and Rock river rapids. The latter extends six miles, and op poses an effectual barrier to steam-boat navigation, although keel-boats and barges of the largest classes, may ascend. This rapid is three hundred and ninety miles above St. Louis. , ' The fourth change in the physical aspect of this river is at the junction of the Missouri, and this is a total and complete one, the character of the Mississippi being entirely lost in that of the Missouri. The latter -is, in fact, much the larger stream of the two, and carries its characteristic ap pearances to the ocean. It should also have carried the name, but its exploration took place too long after the course of the Mississippi had been perpetuated in the written geography of the country, to render an alteration in this respect, either practicable or expedient. The waters of the Mis sissippi at its confluence with the Missouri, are moderately clear, and of a greenish hue. The Missouri is turbid and opake, of a grayish white color, and during its floods, which happen twice a year, communicates, almost instantaneously, to the combined stream its predominating qualities, but towards the close of the summer season, when it is at its lowest stage of water, the streams do not fully incorporate for twenty or thirty miles, but preserve opposite sides of the river; and I have observed this pheno menon at the town of Herculaneum, forty-eight miles below the junction. ' The water in this part of the river cannot be drank until it has been set aside to allow the mud to settle. The distance from the mouth of the Missouri to the gulf of Mexico is one thousand two hundred and twenty miles, in'the coUrse of which it- receives from the west, the Merri mac, St. Francis, White, Arkansas, and Red rivers ; and from the east, the Kaskaskia, Great Muddy, Ohio, Wolf, and Yazoo. This part of the river is more particularly characterized by snags and sawyers, falling-in banks and islands, sand-bars and mud-banks ; and a channel which is shifting by every flood, and of such extreme velocity, that it was formerly thought it could not be navigated by vessels propelled with sails. Subse quent experience has shown this conjecture to be unfounded, although a strong wind is required for its ascent. It is daily navigated in ships of from four hundred to eight hundred tons burden, from the Balize to New Orleans, a distance of one hundred miles, and could be ascended higher were it necessary ; but the commerce of the river above New Orleans is now carried on, in a great measure, by steam-boats. The width of the river opposite St. Louis is one mile ; it is somewhat less at New Orleans, and still less at its disembochure. A bar at its mouth prevents ships draw ing more than eighteen feet water from entering. This river is occupied by different bands of the Chippeway Indians from its sources, to the Buffalo Plains, in the vicinity of the upper St. Francis, the precise limit being a matter of dispute, and the cause of the long war between them and the Sioux. The Sioux bands claim from thence to the Prairie des Chiens, and the Foxes and Sacs to the river Desmoines. From this vicinity to the gulf of Mexico the Indian title has been extinguished by the United States' government, either through purchase, treaty, or conquest, and we have now the complete control of this river and all its tributary streams, with the exception of the upper part of Red river. The wild rice is not found on the waters of the Mississippi south of the forty-first degree of north lati- PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 41 tade, nor the Indian reed, or cane, north of the thirty-eighth. These two productions characterize the extremes of this river. It has been observed by McKenzie, that the former is hardly known, or at least does not come to maturity, north ofthe fiftieth degree of .north latitude. The alligator is first seen below the junction of the Arkansas!' The paroquet is found as far north as the mouth of the Illinois, and flocks have occasionally been seen as high as Chicago. The name of this river is derived from the Algonquin language, one of the original tongues of our continent, which is now spoken nearly in its primeval purity by the different bands of Chip peways.' The navigation upon this river is very great. Ships seldom ascend higher than Natchez. It is navigable for boats of the largest size as far as the Ohio. The nunibeT of steam-boats upon the Mississippi is about three hundred. Their size is from five hundred and forty tons downwards. The passage from Cincinnati to New Orleans and back has been made in nineteen days. » From New Orleans to Louisville the shortest passage has been eight days and two hours, the distance being one thousand six hun dred and fifty miles, and against the current. The steam-boats have generaUy high-pressure power, and many fatal explosions have happened upon these waters. The first steam-vessel here was built in 1810.* * The following very graphic description of a flood on the Mississippi, is from the pen of the celebrated naturalist, Audubon : ' There the overflow is astonishing ; for no sooner has the water reached the upper part -of the banks, than it rushes out and overspreads the whole of the neighboring swamps, presenting an ocean overgrown with stupendous forest trees. So sudden is the calamity, that every individual, whether man or beast, has to exert his utmost inge nuity to enablehim to escape from the dreaded element. The Indian quickly removes tothe hills of the, interior, the cattle and game swim to the different stripes of land that remain uncovered, in the midst of the flood, or attempt to force their way through the waters until they perish from fatigue. Along the banks of the river the inhabitants have rafts ready made, on which they remove themselves, their cattle, and their provi sions, and which they then fasten with ropes or grape vines to the larger trees, while they contemplate the melancholy spectacle presented by Ahe current, as it carries off their houses and wood-yards piece by piece. Some who have nothing to lose, and are usually known by the name of squatters, take this opportunity of traversing the woods in canoes, for the. purpose of procuring game, and particularly the skins of animals, such as the deer and bear, which may be converted into money. They resort to the low ridges surrounded by the waters, and destroy thousands of deer, merely for their skins, leaving the flesh to putrefy. ' The river itself, rolling its swollen waters along, presents a spectacle of the most imposing nature..- Although no large vessel, unless propelled by steam, can now make its way agamst the current, it is seen -covered by boats laden with produce, which, run ning out from all the smaller streams, float silently towards the city of New-Orleans, their owners, meanwhile, not very well assured of finding a landing-place even there. The water is covered with yellow foam and pumice, the latter having floated from the rocky mountains of the north-west. The eddies are larger and more powerful than ever. Here and there tracts of forests are observed undermined, the trees gradually giving way, and falling into the stream. Cattle, horses, bears, and deeiyare seen at times attempting to swim across the impetuous mass of foaming and boiling water ; whilst here and there a vulture or ah eagle is observed: perched on a bloated carcass, tearing it up in pieces, as regardless of the flood as. on former occasions it would have been of the numerous sawyers and planters with which the surface of the river is covered when the water is low. Even the steamer is frequently distressed. The numberless trees and logs that float along, break its paddles and retard its progress. Besides, it is on such occasions difficult to procure fuel to maintain its fires ; and it is only at very distant intervals that a wood-yard can be found Which the water has not earried off. 6 4* 42 BOOK OK THE UNITED STATES. The Missouri rises in the Rocky Mountains in nearly the same parallel with the Mississippi, and about a mile distant from the head-waters of the Columbia. The most authentic information we have yet had of the sources of this mighty river is from its first intrepid American discoverers, Lewis and Clarke. What may properly be called the Missouri, seems to be formed ' Following the river in your canoe, you reach those parts of the shores that are pro tected against the overflowing of the waters, and are called levies. There you find the whole population ofthe district at work, repairing and augmenting those artificial barriers which are several feet above the level of the fields. Every person appears to dread the opening of a crevasse, by which the waters may rush into his fields. In spite of all exertions, however, the. crevasse opens, and water bursts impetuously over the planta tions, and lays waste the crops which so lately were blooming in all the luxuriance of spring. It opens up a new channel, which, for aught I know to the contrary, may carry its waters even to the Mexican gulf. 'But now. kind reader, observe this great flood gradually subsiding, and again see the mighty changes which it has effected. The waters have now been carried into the distant ocean. The earth is every where covered by a deep deposit of muddy loam, which, in drying, splits into deep and narrow chasms, presenting a reticulated appear ance, and from wliich, as the weather becomes warmer, disagreeable, and at times noxious, exhalations arise, and fill the lower stratum of the atmosphere, as with a dense fog. The banks of the river have almost every where been broken down in a greater or less degree. Large streams are now found to exist, where none were formerly to be ¦wen, having forced their way in direct Unes from the upper parts of the bends. These are, by the navigator, called short cuts. Some of them have proved large enough to pro duce a change in the navigation of the Mississippi. If4 mistake not, one of these, known by the name of Grand Cut-off, and only a few miles in length, has diverted the rivei from its natural course, and has shortened it by fifty miles. The upper parts of the islands present a bulwark consisting of an enormous mass of floated trees of all kinds, which have lodged there. Large sand-banks have been completely removed by the impetuous whirls of the waters, and have' been deposited in other places. Some appear quite new to the eye of the navigator, who has to mark their situation and bearings in his log-book. The trees on the margins of the banks have in many parts given way. They are seen bending over the stream, hke the grounded arms of an overwhelmed army of giants. Every where are heard the lamentations of the farmer and planter, whilst their servants and themselves are busily employed in repairing the damages occasioned by the floods. At one crevasse, an old ship or two, dismantled for the pur pose, are sunk, to obstruct the passage opened by the still rushing waters, while new earth is brought to fill up the chasms. The squatter is seen shouldering his rifle, and making his way through the morass, in search of his lost stock, to drive the survivors home, and save the skins of the drowned. New fences have every where to be formed ; even new houses must be erected, to save which from a like disaster, the settler places them on an qlevated platform, supported by pillars made of the trunks of trees. The lands must be ploughed anew ; and. if the season is not too far advanced, a crop of corn and potatoes may yet be raised. But the rich prospects Of the planter are blasted. The traveller is impeded in his journey, the creeks and smaller streams having broken up their banks in a degree proportionate to their size. A bank of sand which seems firm and secure, suddenly gives way beneath the traveller's horse, and the next moment fhe animal has sunk in the quicksand, either to the chest in front, or over the crupper behind, leaving its master in a situation not to be envied. ' Unlike the mountain torrents and small rivers of other parts of the world, the Missis sippi rises but slowly during these floods, continuing for several weeks to increase at the rate of about au inch in the day. When at its height, it undergoes little fluctuation for some days, and after this subsides as slowly as it rose. The usual duration of a flood is from four to six weeks, although, on some occasions, it is protracted to two months. ' Every one knows how largely the idea of floods and cataclysms enters into the speculations of the geologist. If the streamlets ofthe European continent afford illus trations of the formation of strata, how much more must the Mississippi, with its ever- Jiifting sand-banks, its crumbling shores, its enormous masses of drift-timber, the source of future beds of coal, its extensive and varied alluvial deposits, and its mighty mass of Waters rolling sullenly along, like the flood of eternity !' PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 43 by three considerable -branches, which unite not far from the bases of the principal ranges of the mountains. To the northern they gave the name of Jeflerson, to the middle Gallatin, and to the southern Madison. All these streams run with great velocity, throwing out large volumes of water ; their beds are formed of smooth pebble and gravel, and their waters are perfectly transparent. One hundred and a half miles beyond the forks of the Missouri are the forks of Jefferson river ; two subordinate branches of which are called Wisdom and Philanthropy, one coming from the north-west, and the former from the south-east. Wisdom, river is fifty yards wide, cold, rapid, and' containing a third more water than the Jef ferson ; it seems to be the drain of the melting snows on the mountains, but is unnavigable on account of its rapidity. One hundred and forty-eight miles farther up is the extreme navigable point of the river in north lati tude forty-three degrees thirty minutes and forty-three seconds. Two miles beyond this is a small gap or narrow entrance, formed by the high mountains which recede on each side, at the head of an elevated valley, ten miles long and five broad, so as to form a beautiful cove several miles in diameter. From the foot of one of the lowest of these mountains, which rises with a gentle ascent of half a mile, issues the remotest water of the Mississippi. At the source, we are told that the weather is so cold at the end of August, that water standing in vessels exposed in the night air has been frozen to the depth of a quarter of an inch. After the junction of tWe three branches before mentioned, the river continues a considerable distance to be still a foaming mountain torrent. It then spreads into a broad and comparatively gentle stream full of islands. Precipitous peaks of blackish rock frown above the river, in perpendicular elevations of a thousand feet. The mountains whose bases it sweeps are covered with pines, cedars and firs ; and mountain sheep are seen bounding on their summits where they are apparently inaccessible. In this distance the mountains have an aspect of inexpressible loneliness and grandeur. In the meadows and along the shore the tree most common is the cotton-wood, which with the willow forms almost the exclusive growth of the Missouri. About forty-seven miles below the spot where the Missouri issues from the mountains to the plains, a most sublime and extraordinary spec tacle presents itself, emphatically denominated the Gates of the Rocky Mountains. In ascending the stream it increases in rapidity, depth, and breadth, to the mouth of this formidable pass. Here the rocks approach it on both sides, rising perpendicularly from the edge of the water to the height of one thousand two hundred feet. Near the base, they are com posed of black granite; but above, the color is of a yellowish, brown, and cream color. Nothing can be imagined more tremendous than the frown ing darkness of these rocks, which project over the river, and menace the passenger with instant destruction. For the space of five miles and three quarters, the rocks rise to the above degree of elevation, and the river, three hundred and fifty yards broad, seems to haye forced its channel down the solid mass ; or, to use Volney's expression respecting the falls of Niagara, literally to have sawed a passage through this body of hard and solid rock, near six miles in length, being incased as it were, during all this distance, between two walls of one thousand and two hundred feet high. During the whole distance the water is very deep, even at the 4 44 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. edges; and for the first three miles, there is not a spot, except one of a few yards, in which a man could stand between the water and the tow ering perpendicular precipice of the mountain. The river, for the distance of about seventeen miles, becomes almost a continued cataract. In this distance its perpendicular descent is three hundred and sixty-two feet. The first fall is ninety-eight feet ; the second, nineteen ; the third, forty-seven ; the fourth, twenty-six. Next to the Niagara these falls are the grandest in the world. The river continues rapid for a long distance beyond, but there is not much variation in its appearance till near the mouth of the Platte. That powerful river throws out vast quantities of coarse sand, which- contribute to give a new face to the Missouri, which is now much more impeded by islands. The sand, as it is drifted down, adheres in time to some of the projecting points frbm the shore, and forms a barrier to the mud which at length fills to the same height with the sand-bar itself. As soon as it has acquired a consistency, the willow grows there the first year, and by its roots gives solidity to the whole ; with further accumulations the cotton-wood tree next appears, till the soil is gradually raised to a point above the highest freshets. Thus stopped in its course, the water seeks a passage elsewhere, and as the soil on each side -is light and yielding, what was only a penin sula becomes gradually an island, and the river compensates the usur pation by encroaching on the adjacent shore. In. this way the Missouri, like the Mississippi, is continually cutting offthe projections of the shore, and leaving its ancient channel, which may be traced by the deposits of mud and a few stagnant ponds.* During fhe whole length of the Missouri below the Platte, the soil is generally exceUent, and although the timber is scarce, there is still sufficient for the purpose of settlers. But beyond that river, although the soil is still rich, yet the almost total absence of timber, and particularly the want of good water, of which there is but a small quantity in the creeks/" oppose very powerful impediments to its occupancy. The prai ries for many miles on each side of the river produce abundance of good pasturage. 1 Above the mouth of the Osage, the immediate valley of the Missouri gradually expands, embracing some wide bottoms in which are many settlements gradually increasing in the number of inhabitants. The Manito Rocks, and some other precipitous cliffs, are the terminations of low ranges of hills, running in quite 'to the river. These hills sometimes occasion rapids, and opposite the Manito rocks a small group of islands stretches obliquely across the river, separated by narrow channels in which the current is stronger than below. This group is called the Thousand Islands. Some of the channels are obstructed by collections of floating trees, which usually accumulate about the heads of islands, and are here called rafts. After increasing to a certain extent, portions of these rafts become loosened, and float down the river, covering nearly its whole surface, and greatly impeding and endangering the progress of the ascending boats. Council Bluffs, the seat of an important military establishment of the United States, about six hundred miles up the Missouri, is a remarkable * Lewis and Clarke. PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 45 bank, rising abruptly from the brink of the river to an elevation of oue hundred and fifty feet. From the hill tops, a mile in the r<;ar of the Bluffs, is presented a most extensive and beautiful landscape. On the east side of the river, the Bluffs exhibit a chain of peaks, stretching as far as the eye can reach. The river is here and there seen meandering in serpentine folds along its broad valley, chequered with woodlands and prairies, while, at a nearer view, you look xlown on an extensive plain, interspersed with a few scattered copses or bushes, and terminated at a distance by the Council Bluffs. Taken in connection with the Mississippi into whichi it flows, this river is the longest on the globe.* Its whole coarse, from its mouth in the gulf of Mexico to its source in the Rocky Mountains, is four thousand four hundred and twenty-four miles, including its windings ; and for four thousand three hundred and ninety-six miles of this course it is navigable. From the point of its confluence with the Mississippi to fort Mandan, it is one thousand six hundred and nine milesj- to the foot of the rapids at Great Falls two thousand five hundred and seventy-five miles ; two thou sand six hundred and sixty-four to where it issues from the mountains ; two thousand six hundred and ninety to the Gates of the Mountains; three thousand and ninety-six to the extreme navigable point of Jefferson river ; and three thousand one hundred and twenty-four^ miles to its remotest source. In this immense course it receives upwards of fifty large rivers, and one hundred and fifty smaller streams. Its principal tributaries are the Roche Jaune, or Yellowstone, the Kansas, Platte, Osage, Gasconade, Little Missouri, Running Water, Charaton, White, and Milk rivers. The Yelloivstofie is the largest of these tributaries. Its sources are iri the Rocky Mountains, near those of the Missouri and the Platte, and it may be navigated in canoes almost to its head. It runs first through a mountainous country, but in many parts fertile and well timbered ; it then waters a rich, delightful land, broken into valleys and meadows, and well supplied with wood and water, till it reaches near the Missouri open meadows and low grounds, sufficiently timbered on its borders. In the upper country its course is said to be very rapid, but during the two last and largest portions, its current is much more gentle than that of the Missouri. On the sand-bars and along the margin of this river grows the small leafed willow ; in the low grounds adjoining . are scattered rose bushes three or four feet high, the red-berry, service-berry and.redwood. The higher plains are either immediately on the river, in which 'case they are generally timbered, and have an undergrowth like that of the low- grounds, with the addition of the broad leafed willow, gooseberry, purple currant and honeysuckle; or they are between the low grounds and the hiUs, and for the most part without wood, or any thing except *' The American Fur Company have sent their steam-boats twenty-one hundred miles above the mouth of the Missouri, and in high water, steam-boats of light draft can ascend two thousand and six hundred miles. The Mississippi'is navigable, by steam between six. and seven hundred miles above St. Louis. These rivers pass through an exceedingly fertile country ; and when a just system of internal improvement shall be carried into operation, not only New Orleans and the great valley of the Mississippi will be benefit ted, but every portion of the United States will feel the invigorating influence of such a course.' — St. Louis Republican. 46 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. large quantities of wild hyssop, a plant which rises to the height of about two feet, and, like the willow of the sand-bars, is a favorite food of the buffalo, elk, deer, grouse, porcupine, hare, and rabbit.* The Platte is in fact much more rapid than the Missouri, and drives the current on the northern shore, on which it is constantly encroaching. At some distance below the confluence, the Missouri is two miles wide, with a rapid current of ten miles an hour in some parts, the rapidity increasing as we approach the mouth ofthe Platte; the velocity of which, combined with the vast quantity of rolling sands which are drifting from it into the Missouri, renders it completely unnavigable, unless for flats or rafts, though the Indians pass it in small flat canoes" made of hides, and the Americans have contrived to navigate it by means of keel-boats, which, be^ng constructed to draw but little water, and built upon a small keeL are remarkably well adapted for sailing up rapid and shallow streams. The Platte runs a course of fifteen degrees of longitude, from west to east, or more than eight hundred miles. The Kansas' River has a considerable resemblance to the Missouri, but its current is more moderate, and its water less turbid, except at times of high floods. Its valley, like that of the Missouri, has a deep and fertile soil, bearing forests of cotton-wood, sycamore, and other trees, interspersed with meadows ; but in ascending, trees become more and more scattered, and at length disappear almost entirely, the country at its sources being one immense prairie. The River Osage, so called from the well known tribe of Indians inhabiting its banks, enters the Missouri one hundred and thirty-three miles above its- confluence with the Mississippi. Its sources are in the Ozark Mountains. Flowing along the base of the north-western slope of a mountainous range, it receives from the east several rapid and beautiful tributaries. In point of magnitude this river ranks with the Cumberland and Tennessee. It has been represented as navigable for six hundred miles, but this Major Long considers an exaggeration, on account of the great number of shoals and sand-bars in its current. In the lower part of its course it traverses broad and fertile bottom-lands, bearing heavy forests of sycamore and cot ton trees. Charaton River is seventy-five yards wide at its mouth, and navigable at high water one hundred and fifty miles. Half a mile from its conflu ence with the Missouri, it receives the Little Charaton, also a considerable stream, and navigable for many miles. The Charaton has its source near the De Moyen river of the Mississippi, and traverses a country which is of great importance, both on account of the fertility of its soil, and its inex haustible mines of gold. The Arkansas River rises in the Rocky Mountains in north latitude forty-two degrees, near the borders of the territory of the United States and Mexico. It is about two thousand miles in length, running in a direction east south-east. Tributary streams are little known ; they are remarkable for being deeply impregnated with salt. That part of Arkansas that tra verses the Missouri territory is skirted, in great part, by extensive prairies. Spurs of the Masserne Mountains often reach the river. It may be re marked as singular, that to the extent of upwards of three hundred miles * Lewis and Clarke PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 47 in the lower part of the Arkansas, its valley is confined merely to the stream of the river ; the waters of the Washita on one side, and White river on the other, rising almost from the very margin of the Arkansas The land upon the Arkansas, in the Missouri territory, is in o-reat part alluvial ; and where not subject to overflow, excellent. The timber cor responds nearly to that of the state of Mississippi, in similar relative situ ations.. Red River rises about one hundred miles north-east of Santa Fe, in Mexico, at the base of a range of the Rocky Mountains, called the Caous, and after a very serpentine course of about two thousand five hundred miles, enters the Mississippi in thirty-one degrees fifteen minutes north latitude. There are many streams rising in the same mountains, flow ing separately for three or four hundred miles, and then uniting to form -the Red river. Of the regions in which the upper waters of these streams lie, but little is known. They are principally inhabited by the Pawnees. When the river enters Louisiana, its south bank is for a long distance the boundary between the United States and Texas. A great part of its course is through delightful prairies of a rich red soil, covered with grass and vines which bear delicious grapes. About a hundred miles above Natchitoches commences what is called, the Raft ; a swampy ex pansion of the alluvion to the width of twenty or thirty miles. The river divides into a great number of channels, many of them shallow ; and for ages these channels have been becoming clogged with a mass of fallen timber carried down from the upper parts of the river. At this place its navigation is effectually obstructed, except in a high, stage of water, when keel-boats of ten or fifteen tons burden may pass it through devious channels, or bayoux, and ascend several miles above. That part of the river situated above the Raft is rendered impassable for boats of burden, by shoals and sand-bars in a moderate stage of water.* The Washita, tributary to Red river, is navigable many miles. That portion of it situated within the valley of the Mississippi, denominated Black river, admits of constant navigation for boats- of burden. White river is navigable in a moderate' stage of water between three and four hundred miles. Of the rivers tributary to the Missouri, it is remarkable, that their mouths are generally blocked up with mud, after the subsiding of the summer freshet of that river, which usually takes place in the month of July. The freshets of the more southerly tributaries are discharged early in the season, and wash from their mouths the sand and mud previously deposited therein, leaving them free from obstructions. These freshets having subsided, the more northerly branches discharge their floods, form ed by the melting of the snow, at a later period. The Missouri being thus swollen, the mud of its waters is driven up the mouth of its tributaries. These streams having no more freshets to expel it, their mouths remain thus obstructed till the ensuing spring.! . The St. Peter has its rise in a small lake about three miles in circum ference, at the base of a remarkable ridge, distinguished by the name of * Appropriations have recently been made by Congress for the removal of obstruc tions in the- Arkansas and Red rivers. The officer employed on that service is confi dent in the practicability of removing the Eaft by means of boats. f Long's Expedition. 48 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. Coteau des Prairies. It enters the Mississippi nine miles below the falls of St. Anthony. Its length in all its windings is about five hundred miles. Its course is exceedingly serpentine, and is interrupted by several rocky ridges, extending across the bed of the river and occasioning falls of con siderable descent. During the times of spring freshets and floods, this river is navigable for boats from its mouth to the head of Big Stone Lake, about fifteen miles from its sources. For a distance of about forty miles on the lower part of the river, it is from sixty to eighty yards only wide, and navigable for pirogues and canoes in all stages of the water; higher up, its navigation is obstructed in low water by. numerous shoals and rapids. The aggregate descent of the St. Peter may be estimated at about one hundred and fifty feet, the general level of the country at its source having an elevation of about fifty feet above the river. The chief of its tributaries is the Blue-earth river, which flows in from the south a hundred miles west of the Mississippi by a mouth fifty yards in width. It is chiefly noted for the blue clay which the Indians procure upon its banks, and which is much employed in painting their faces and other parts- of their bodies. The river Str Peter's enters the Mississippi behind a large island, which is probably three miles in circumference, and is covered with the most luxu riant growth of sugar-maple, 'elm, ash, oak, and walnut. At the point of embouchure it is one hundred and fifty yards in width, with a depth of ten or fifteen feet. Its waters are transparent, and present a light blue tint on looking uponr the stream. From this circumstance the Indians have given it the name of Clear-water river. Red River of the north rises near the sources pf the St. Peter's; and by a northern and winding course runs nearly two hundred miles in our ter ritorial limits ; and then passes info the British dominions, of Upper Cana da, and empties into Lake Winnepeck. Its principal branches are Red Lake river and Moose river, the latter of which streams rises within a, mile of fort Mandan on the Missouri. Red river is a broad, deep, and very interesting -stream, abounding, with fish, and the country along its banks with elk and buffaloes. The name Ohio is an Indian appellation, signifying ' the beautiful river.' This epithet is not bestowed upon it for the whole of its course, but com mences at the confluence of the two principal streams, at Pittsburg ; above fhe junction it is called the Alleghany, The remotest source of the AUe- ghany is in the State of Pennsylvania, in north latitude forty-one degrees and forty-five minutes, and west longitude seventy-eight degrees. It is composed of two small streams. At Pittsburg, the Alleghany being joined by the Monongahela, the confluent stream receives the appellation of the Ohio. The Monongahela is formed by the confluence of two streams, both -rising from the Alleghany chain, in the north-west angle of Virginia, and running parallel to each other for sixty miles in a direct line. The abso lute course of the Monongahela is more than two hundred miles, but not above one hundred and thirty in a direct line froip south to north. It seems a larger and deeper stream at Pittsburg than the Alleghany, which in the dry' season has not above seven feet water where deepest. The waters of the Alleghany are always clear and limpid, while those of the Mononga hela, on the contrary, become muddy and turbid, whenever there are a few days of successive rain in that part of the AUeghany Mountains where it rises. Each of the streams is four hundred yards wide at the conflux ; PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 49 and after the junction, the united stream is more enlarged in depth than in oreadth. The Ohio, fprmed by the junction ef the Monongahela and Alleghany, appears to be rather a continuation of the former than the latter, which arrives at the confluence in an oblique direction. From Pittsburg to the mouth of the Ohio is one thousand and thirty-three, miles by the course of the stream. It receives a vast number of tributary streams on both sides, in its progress to the Mississippi. For the space of three hundred miles, below Pittsburg, the Ohio runs between two ridges of hills, rising from three hundred to , four hundred feet in height. These appear fre quently undulated at their summits, but at other times seem to be perfectly level. They sometimes recede, and sometimes approach the banks df the river, and have their direction parallel to that of the Alleghany chain. These ridges gradually recede farther down the river, till they disappear from the view of those who descend the Ohio. , It is not till this river has burst its passage through a transverse chain, at the rapids, near Louisville, that it rolls its waters, through a level and expanded country, as far as the "Mississippi. The general appearance of the river is beautiful, placid, gentle and transparent, except in the times of high water. There are two seasons of periodical inundations ; namely, winter and spring. According to some, the vernal inundations of this river commence in the latter end of March, and subside in July ; and, according to others, they commence early in February, and subside in May. It must be observed, however, that this period is forwarded or retarded as the rivers thaw sooner or later, which may' reconcile these apparently discordant statements, The Ohio is then swelled to a prodigious height, varying in different places, as it is more or less expanded in breadth. It is a favorable circum- ftance for the country in the upper course of the Ohio, that it has very nigh and steep banks ; having gradually hollowed' out for itself a deep and comparatively narrower bed, being, like all its southern tributary streams, inclosed as it were in a groove between them, which prevents the general i level of the land from being overflowed for many miles, and thereby ren- dered marshy and unwholesome, as in the lower Missouri, and in the lower part of the Ohio, Yet high as these banks are, the Ohio is both a dan gerous and troublesome neighbor to the towns which are not sufficiently far removed from them. That part of the town of Marietta situated at the junction of the Muskingum with the Ohio, though elevated forty-five feet 'above the ordinary level of the stream, has been twice inundated, and con sequently. abandoned by the inhabitants. The town of Portsmouth, at the mouth of the Great "Scipta, and two hundred and- eighteen miles below Marietta by water, though elevated sixty feet above the usual surface of the river, is also subjected to the same misfortune, which has materially affected- the prosperity of the place. At Cincinnati, the breadth of the river is five hundred and thirty-five yard-srand the banks fifty feet in per pendicular height,, yet these are annually overflowed. The winter floods commence, in the middle of October, and continue to the latter end of December. Sometimes, in the course of the summer, abundant- rains, fall among the Alleghany Mountains, by which the Ohio, is suddenly raised, but such occurrences are rare. In the times of these twe periodical floods, which taken together last for near half the year, ships drawing twelve feet water may sail with eerfect case from Pittsburg to~ New Orleans i» 7 5 60 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. distance of near two thousand and two hundred miles. In these seasons the passage to the falls may be accomplished in nine or ten days, but it is generally effected in twelve days. The difficulty of navigating the Ohio during the dry season, is only confined to the upper part of its course, or between Pittsburg and Limestone, a space of four hundred and twenty-five miles by water ; and this, not so much owing to the shallowness of the stream, as to its being divided by islands ; for the depth of the Monongahela branch of the Ohio alone, at Pittsburg, is twelve feet. Michaux counted no less than fifty of these islands in the distance of three hundred and fiinety miles; some of them only containing a few acres, and others exceed ing a mile in length. The Tennessee rises in the Alleghany Mountains, traverses East Ten nessee, and almost the "whole northern limit of Alabama, re-enters Tennessee, and crosses almost-the whole width of it, into Kentucky, and passes into Ohio, fifty-seven miles above its junction with the Mississippi. It is near twelve hundred miles in length, and is the largest tributary of the Ohio. It has numerous branches, and is navigable for boats one thou sand miles ; most of the branches rise among the mountains, and are too shallow for navigation, except during the floods, which take place occa sionally, at all seasons of the year, and admit flat boats to be floated dfewn to the main stream. The Muscle Shoals are about three hundred miles from its entrance into the Ohio. At this place the river spreads to the width of three miles, and forms a number of islands. The passage by boats is difficult and dangerous, except when the water is high. From these shoals to the place called the Whirl. or Suck, two hundred and fifty miles, the navigation all the ,way is excellent, to the Cumberland Mountain ; where the river1 breaks through. This mountain is sometimes so steep, that even the Indians cannot ascend it on foot. In one place, particularly, near the summit of the mountain, there is a remarkable ledge of rocks, of about thirty miles in length, and two hundred feet high, with a perpendicular front facing the south-east, more noble and grand than any artificial fortification in the known world, and apparently equal in point- of regularity. The Whirl,' as it is called, is about latitude thirty-four degrees. It is considered a greater curiosity than the bursting of the river Potomac through the Blue Ridge. The river, which above ..as half a mile wide, is here compressed to one, hundred yards, or eighteerr'rods. Just at the-entrance of the mountain, a large rock projects from the northern shore, in an oblique direction, which renders the channel still narrower. This causes a sudden bend, by which the waters are thrown with great force against the opposite shore. From thence they rebound about the point of the rock, and produce a whirl of eighty yards, or two hundred and forty feet in circumference. By the dexterity of the rowers, canoes drawn into this whirl have sometimes escaped without damage. In less than a mile below the Whirl, the river spreads to its common width, down to Muscle Shoals ; and thence runs in a regular and beautiful stream to its confluence with the Ohio. The Wabash rises in the north-eastern part of Indiana, and flows south westerly nearly across the state, when it turns to the south, and flows into" the Ohio, forming towards its mouth the western boundary. Its length, from its mouth to its extreme source, exceeds*five hundred miles. It is PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY.- 51 ¦navigable for keel-boats, about four hundred miles, to Ouitanon, where there are rapids. From this village small boats can go within six miles of St. Mary's river ; ten pf Fprt Wayne ; and eight pf the St. Joseph's pf the Miami-of-the-lakes. Its current is gentle above Vincennes ; below the tewn there are several rapids, but not of sufficient magnitude to prevent boats from ascending. The principal rapids are between Deche and White rivers, ten miles below Vincennes. White river and Tippecanoe river are branches of the Wabash. The Cumberland rises in the Cumberland Mountains in Kentucky, and after a course of nearly two hundred miles in that state, passes into Ten nessee, through which it makes a circuit of two hundred and fitty uiiles, when it re-enters Kentucky and falls into the Ohio, about fifty miles above the entrance of that river into the Mississippi. From the source of this river to its conflux with the Ohio, the distance in a direct line is three hun dred miles, but by the course and windings of the stream, it is near six hundred miles, five hundred of which it is navigable for batteaux of four teen or fifteen tons burthen. The Muskingum rises in the north-eastern part of Ohio, and flows sputherly into the Ohio river. It is two hundred rriiles in length, and is navigable for boats one hundred miles. It is connected by a canal with Lake Erie. The Sciota rises in the western part, and flows southerly into the Ohio. It is about two. hundred miles long, and is navigable one hun dred and thirty. There are rich and beautiful prairies on the river, and its valley is wide and fertile. A canal passes along this valley, and extends north-easterly to Lake Erie. The Licking and Kentucky rivers take their rise in the Cumberland Mountains, and flow north-westerly into the Ohio. They are each about two hundred miles in length. The latter is navigable for one hundred and fifty miles, and has a width of one hundred and fifty yards at its mouth. The current is rapid, and the shores are high. For a great part of its course, it flows between perpendicular banks of limestone. The voyager passing down this stream experiences an indescribable f.snsa- tion on Ipoking upwards to the sky from a deep chasm hemmed in by lofty parapets. Among the other tributaries of the Ohio are the Great and Little Miami, Sahne,* Green river, Big Sandy, Kanhawa. ¦ The Illinois rises in the north-eastern parts of the state of that name, not more than thirty-five miles from the south-western extremity of Lake Mich igan, and interlocking by a morass wilh the river Chicago, which empties into that lake. Its two main head-branches are Plein and Kankakee. Thirty miles from the junction of these rivers, enters Fox river from the north. Between this and the Vermilion, enter two or three inconsiderable rivers. The Vermilion is a considerable stream, which enters the Illinois from the sodth, two hundred and sixty miles above the Mississippi. Not far below this river, and two hundred and ten miles above the Mississippi, commences Peoria iake, which is no mpre than an enlargement of the river, two miles wide on an average, and twenty miles in length. Such is the ¦ depth .and regularity of the bottom, that it has noperceptible current whatever. It is a beautiful sheet of water, with romantic shores, generally bounded •by prairies ; and no waters in the world furnish finer sport for the angler. On the north side of the Illinois, the rivers that enter on that shore * On the banks of this stream, about twenty miles from the Ohio, are extensive salt works, owned by the United States' government. 52 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. have their courses, for the most part, iri mountainous bluffs, which often approach near the river. Fer a great distance abovS its meuth, the river is al must as straight as a canal; has in summer scarcely a perceptible cur rent, and the waters, though transparent, have a marshy taste to a degree to be almest unfit for use. The river is wide and deep ; and, for the greater part of its width, is filled with aquatic weeds, to such an extent, that no person could swim among them. Only, a few yards width, in the centre of the stream, is free from them. It enters the Mississippi through a deep forest, by a mouth four hundred yards wide. Perhaps no river of the western country has so fine a boatable navigation, for such a great dis tance ; or waters a richer and more luxuriant tract of country. Rock River is one of the most dear and beautiful tributaries of the Mis sissippi. It has its source beyond the northern limits of Illinois, and in a ridge of hills that separates between the waters of the Mississippi and those of Lake -Michigan. On its waters are extensive and rich lead mines. , Its general course is south-west, and it enters the Mississippi, not far above the commencement of the military bounty lands. Opposite the mouth of this river, in the Mississippi, is the beautiful island, called from the name of the river, and en which is a military statipn nf the United States. Kaskaskia River rises in the interior of Illinois, nearly interlocking with the waters of Lake Michigan. It has a course, in a south-west direction, of between two and three hundred miles, for the greater part of which course, in high stages of water, it is boatable. It runs through a fine and settled country, and empties into the Mississippi a few mUes below the town of the same name. The Ouisconsin is the largest river of the North- West territory that flows into the Mississippi. It rises in the northern interior ofthe country, and interlocks with the Montreal of Lake Superior. It has a course of between three and four hundred miles, has a shallow and rapid current, which is, however, navigable by boats in good stages of the water, and is eight hundred yards wide at its mouth, There is a portage of only half a mile between this and Fox river. It is over a level prairie, across which, from river to river,, there is a water communication for periogues in high stages of the water. Fox River has a course of two hundred and sixty miles. It runs through Winnebago lake. It has a fine country pn its banks, with a salubrious climate. Chippeway is a considerable river of the Mississippi, and enters it just below Lake Pepin. It is half a mile wide at its mouth, and has communications by a short portage with Lake Superior. The other chief rivers of this territory, tributary to the ' father of waters,' are St. Croix, Rum, St. Francis, and Savanna. Among the smaller tributaries to the Mississippi are the Obian, Forked Deer, Big Hatchet, and Wolf rivers, all of which flow into it from Ten nessee ; and the Yazoo and Big Black, from the state ef Mississippi. The last named rivers are only' navigable for boats. Beside the rivers which flow into the Mississippi, and are thus emptied into the Gulf of Mexico, there are a few small streams which disembogue immediately into the gulf. The Alabama River rises in the mountainous parts of Georgia, in two head-streams named tlie Coosa and Tallapoosa, and running south-westerly through the centre of the state of Alabama, unites with the Tombeckbee; both the streams then take the name of Mo- pile, and flowing south for a short distance fall into Mobile Bay. The PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 53 Tombeckbee is formed of two main branches rising in the mountains of the Mississippi. It has a beat navigatipn in the lower part of its course. The Alabama has a boat navigation for one hundred and fifty miles from the bay. Pearl River rises near the centre of the state of Mississippi. A number of branches unite to form the main river, which is afterwards in creased by the Chuncka and other streams. It passes through a pleasant and fertile country, and derives much importance from being one of the chief points of communication between the state through which it flows and the Gulf of Mexico. The Pascagoula rises in latitude thirty three degrees, and after travelling for two hundred^and fifty miles, a tract ef pine cpuntry, broadens at its mouth into an open bay, on which, at a town of its own name, is a resort for the inhabitants of New Orleans during the sickly months. Most of the rivers of Florida which flow into the gulf have their sources in Georgia. The most important of these is the Ap- palachicola. The topography of this country is as yet very imperfect, and the very numerous streams which intersect it have borne a variety of names. Most of them are barred at their mouth with sand. U. RIVERS WHICH FLOW INTO THE ATLANTIC. The River St. Croix forms a part of the eastern boundary of Maine, and is little navigable except by rafts ; most of it consists of a chain of imall lakes. From Calais to the sea, thirty miles, its navigation is unob structed. The River Penobscot is the largest in the state of Maine. It rises in the highlands separating Maine from Lower Canada. Between the junc tion of its two upper branches is Moosehead lake, about forty miles long, and fifteen wide. From the Forks, as they are called, the Penobscot Indians pass to Canada, up either branch, principally the west, the source of which is said to be not more than twenty miles from the waters which fall into the St. Lawrence. The whole navigable course of the river for sloops,, is forty-six miles from the head of the bay, to near the head of the side: and from the Forks to the sea is one hundred and thirty-four miles. This river has very numerous branches, navigable by rafts and abounding in mill sites. The Saco rises in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, enters Maine at Fryeburg, and flows in an irregular course south-east to the sea; it is one hundred and sixty miles long, and has numerous falls which afford excellent mill sites and manufacturing stations. The Androscoggin rises in Umbagog lake, ariiong the highlands which form the north-west boundary of Maine, and descending through a suc cession of lakes enters New Hampshire at Errol ; it re-enters Maine at Gilead, and flows east and south till it joins'the Kennebec at Merrymeet- ing bay. Its length is one hundred and forty miles ; the whole course is broken by rapids and falls, which prevent the transportation of any thing except timber and logs. The Kennebec also rises in the highlands, near the sources of the An droscoggin, and flows nearly south to the sea ; falls and rapids render the navigation difficult aboveJthe tide at Augusta, from which place it is navi gable for vessels of one hundred tons, and from Hallowell and Gardiner for ships tp the sea. The ceuntry watered by the Kennebec generally 5* 54 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. consists pf excellent land ; it is one of the best grazing districts in New England ; and there are upon the banks pf the river a number of flourish ing and handsome towns.. The Merrimack rises in New Hampshire, and has two principal branches : one of them being the outlet of lake Win»ipiseogee. The north or longer branch is called the Pemigewasset, and has its source near the Notch of the White Mountains. At its junction with the outlet of the lake this stream takes the name of Merrimack, and flows south seventy-eight miles to Chelmsford, where it enters Massachusetts, through which it runs east to the sea. lis whole course is about two hundred miles. There are numerous falls in the- New Hampshire portion. Though not equal to the Connecticut for fine scenery, the Merrimack is a noble and beautiful stream. Its waters are pure and salubrious, and on. its borders are many flourishing towns. Its name in the Indian language signifies a sturgeon. Its width Varies from fifty to one hundred and twenty rods ; it receives many minor streams and rivers, which form the outlet of several smali lakes. Its obstructions have been partly remedied by locks at different places, and there is a good navigation for vessels of two hundred tons to Haverhill. Two chain bridges cross the river at Newburyport, and Salis bury. The Piseataqua has its rise and its whole course in New Hampshire. It is formed by the junction of several small streams in a wide and deep bed ; the longest of these streams is Salmon Fall river, which forms part of the boundary between New Hampshire and Maine. The Connecticut is the largest river of the New England States. It rises beyond the high-land's which separate the states of Vermont and New Hampshire from Lower Canada. It has been surveyed to the head spring of its northern branch, about . twenty-five miles beyond the forty- fifth degree of latitude, from which to its mouth it flows upwards of three' hundred miles through a well inhabited country. , Its navigation is much interrupted by falls.- It receives several rivers, as the Chicapee, Deerfield, Miller's, and Farmington. At Hartford it meets the tide, whence it passes on in a winding course, till it falls into Long Island sound, between Say brook and Lyme. This river is navigable for sloops, as far as Hartford, fifty miles distant from its mouth ; and the produce of the country, for two hundred miles above it, is brought thither in flat-bottomed boats, which are- sp light as to-be portable in carts. The Hudson, er the North River, is formed by the confluence of the Hudson proper and the Mohawk, which unite below Waterford, ten miles above Albany. The Hudson takes its rise in the forty-fourth degree of north latitude, from the foot of the mountains which separate the waters- of the^ St. Lawrence from those of Lake Champlain, and the Mohawk in the table-land surrounding Oneida lake. The Mohawk river rises to the north-east of Oneida lake, about eight miles from Sable Water, a stream of Lake Ontario. It runs first twenty miles south to Rome ; then south east one hundred and thirty-four milesj and, after receiving many tribu tary streams in its course, falls into the Hudson by three mouths. It is a large stream of water; and is now navigable for "boats from Schenectady to Rome, one hundred and four miles distant. From Albany to Schenec tady is a portage of sixteen miles, on account of the falls and rapids, which lender the river- unnavigable. These falls and rapids, denominated the- PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 55 Cohoes, are three miles from the junction of the Mohawk with the Hud son. The river is one thousand feet wide at these falls ; the rock over which the stream descends is forty feet perpendicular height; and the whole height of the cataract, including the descent above, is seventy feet. Properly speaking,jhe North river is no other than a narrow gulf of the sea, entering inland at New York, and penetrating across the double chain of the Alleghany Mountains, as far as the confluence of the above men tioned streams, one hundred and seventy miles from the sea. This is what distinguishes the Hudson from all other rivers in the United States. In no other does the tide ascend beyond the first range ; but in the North river, it crosses the first chain at West Point, sixty miles north of New York ; and the second at Catskill, after having burst the beds of granite which opposed its passage, and cut them into a thousand different shapes. Hence the deep valley of the Hudson has derived a most singular and magnificent aspect'; the western bank being, in some places, five hundred feet of perpendicular height above the level of the river.* * 'The river expands into a noble bay, four or five miles wide, called the Tappan Sea, about thirty miles tVom New York, at the, top of which, ten miles farther on, the banks approach each other so closely, that the channel through which the river has at a distant period forced its way by some violent convulsion, is not perceived until you almost enter it. Here we suddenly found ourselves in a narrow pass between precipi tous mountain tops, rising on both sides from the water's edge to an elevation of twelve or fifteen hundred feet. These mountains or hills, as we should call them, are what are called the Highlands of the Hudson ; and the entry to them seemed to us the most remarkable point on the river, not to be contemplated without feelings of the deepest interest. The river course continues to run in this defile among romantic hills covered with wood, sweetly inlaid with plateaus of green pasture, and of table-land for about twenty miles. The farm-houses and villages look as if they hung on the cliffs, or rose by terraces from the water's edge. The river is of various breadths, from a mile and a half to two miles. The projecting rocks often force it to change its direction, so much, indeed, that you frequently appear to be sailing in a lake, from which you cannot dis cover an outlet. ' After leaving the Highlands; the banks of the river are comparatively low, one hundred, or one hundred and fifty feet in height. The hills through which we had passed incline to the right, and do not break off till they reach the St. Lawrence. The river, for sixty or seventy miles, frequently opens into beautiful lakes and bays, with projecting and marked shores. Great part of this district, which is called the Valley of the Hudson, consists of good land and fine corn-fields, and is one of the richest parts of the state of New York. The town of Newburg on the one side, the village of Fishkill on the other, the noble terrace of Hyde Park, the Dutchess County, famed for its fertility, are all situated in the southern part of this reach. On the upper part of it, the grand range of mountains called the Catskills, about three thousand feet high, which are a spur from the AUeghanies, and the populous city of Hudson, strikingly placed on a fine promontory, are the most prominent objects. From Hudson to Albany, about forty miles, the Hudson has more the appearance of a river than below. It is here orna mented with many islands, the shores become less steep, the country rich looking, and more peopled. Villas on the banks appear more_ frequently in approaching Albany, the view of which, from the river, ia very striking. The oldest part of the city reaches to the water's edge, but a great part of it is on a fine elevation on the face of a hill. 'Whether the glorious scenery of the Hudson be superior to that of the Rhine, the Danube, or any of the European rivers, which many of the Americans who have tra velled in Europe maintain, I, who have not seen the greatest of those rivers, do not . pretend to say ; but I am very much mistaken, if there be any where continuously in Great Britain, so remarkable a combination of natural beauty and romantic scenery as on the Hudson between New York and Albany. Nowhere in the British dominions can so great a variety of interesting and pleasing objects be seen in the course of a single defy. The Trosachs, though in miniature, resemble the passage through the Highlands of the Hudson, in all respects but one, the grandeur of the bounding objects. ' The 5 56 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. Along the shore of the Hudson, a mural precipice extends twenty miles. It commences at Weehawken, four miles north of the city of Jersey, gradu ally rising towards the north, and mostly occupied by forests. It is known by- the name of the Palisadoes. Palisadoe Rocks. Raritan River, in the northern part of New Jersey, is formed by two oranches which unite about twenty miles above New Brunswick. It becomes navigable two miles above that city, at a place called Brunswick Landing. Flowing by New Brunswick, and gradually becoming broader and deeper, it passes Amboy and then widens into Raritan bay, which is immediately connected with the ocean. It is navigable for sloops of eighty tons as far as New Brunswick, seventeen miles. The Delaivare issues by two streams, called the Coquago and the Rap- padon, the union of which, forty miles in a direct line from their sources, form the Delaware, from the Katskill Mountains, in the county of Dela ware, state of New York. Running first south, it next turns to the south east, forming, for the space of sixty miles, the boundary between Penn sylvania and New York ; and thence, forms again the line of separation between the former state and that of New Jersey, for upwards of one hun dred miles more to Trenton, where there are falls, but of no great height. Thence, with increased breadth, it pursues a course of thirty-six miles farther, to Philadelphia, where it is a mile broad. Thence it proceeds to Newcastle, forty miles below Philadelphia, where it is two miles broad. Thence it spreads out into a spacious bay, and falls into the Atlantif ¦ seventy miles below Newcastle, by an outlet of twenty-five miles. Thi whole course of the river, from the Atlantic to its source, is three hundred and fifty miles ; and two hundred and eig!-*y from the head of Delaware bay, including the windings. Its two chief tributary streams are the Lehigh and Schuylkill. The navigation betwixt the Delaware and Chesapeak is now improved by means of a canal. The River Susquehannah, of all those of the eastern states, most resem- Jofty mountains of the Highlands of Scotland impart a character of sublimity to those -justly celebrated works of nature, which is here to a certain extent wanting.'— Stuart's America PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 57 bles the Mississippi and the St. Lawrence, on account of its numerous and distant branches. The north-east branch, which is the remotest source, is formed by the junction of two small streams that issue from the lakes of Caniadebago, Ustavantho, and Otsego, in the state of New York. It runs south and south-west in such a winding course, (receiving in its progress the UnadUla and Chenango rivers from the north,) that it crosses the boun dary line between New York and Pennsylvania no less than three times. It forms a junction with the Tioga, in forty-one degrees and fifty-seven minutes north latitude ; and thence pursues a south-east course ef seventy miles to Wyoming; whence, making a sudden bend at a right angle, it runs a south-west cnurse of eighty miles, and unites with the west branch at Northumberland. The river, now increased tp the breadth of half a mile, flows south through the mountains, a course of forty miles, to its junction with the "Juniata, when, turning to the east for ten miles, it emerges from the mountains above Harrisburg, and after a south-east course of eighty miles, falls into Chesapeak bay. The western branch of the Susquehannah is formed by many streams, beyond the Alleghany Mountains ; and its most southern source is within a very few miles of the Coneinaugh, or Kiskeminitas, which falls into the Alleghany a little above Pittsburg. After running a very winding course of two hundred miles, principally among the mountains, it joins with the east branch at Northum berland. The Juniata rises in the Alleghany Mountains, and, pursuing an eastern and very serpentine and mountainous course, falls into the Susque hannah, after running two hundred miles. The whole course of the Susquehannah, from Chesapeak bay to the head of the north-east branch, is four hundred and fifty miles ; and, including all its branches, it waters a tract of forty thousand square miles. Where it falls into the sea it is fully a. mile broad ; at Harrisburg it is nearly of the same breadth, and from three to five feet deep. There are seven falls in this river, which, with the numerous islands and rocks, render it navigable only for a few miles by large vessels. The River Potomac rises on the north-west side of the Alleghany Moun tains, and after running a north-east ceurse pf sixty miles tp Cumberland, is jpined eighteen miles below, by a branch coming from the south-west. Thence fifty-four miles farther, it receives the waters of Licking Creek, and passes the north mountain into a fine limestone valley, which it waters in a very winding course of forty-five miles in a south-east direction. Here it receives a considerable number of tributary streams, particularly the Conecocheague at Williamsport, and the Shenandoah at the extremity of the valley, and just above the Blue Ridge, through which the combined stream has effected a singularly magnificent passage. About thirty miles farther, it descends one hundred and forty feet in the course of eight or ten miles, to the level of tide-water, which it meets at Georgetown. It is here a quarter of a mile wide ; but expands to a mile opposite Washington, and enters the Chesapeak bay by a passage seven and a half miles broad. This is one of the most important of the Atlantic rivers. It is navigable for vessels of any burden to Alexandria, one hundred miles distant ; and from thence, for ships of considerable burden, to Georgetown. A lock navigation has been constructed round the first falls, of which there are four in the whole. The largest of these falls is at Matilda, six miles abojje Georgetown, where the stream, nine hundred feet broad, after flowing 58 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. through a valley skirted with hills wild as those of the Rhone in Vivari, (says Volney,) falls at once, like the Niagara, from the height of seventy- seven feet, into a deep chasm of solid micaceous granite. From this it Passage of the Poto;_ac through the Blue Ridge. escapes, several miles farther down, by a widening of the valley in the lower country. The" whole coarse of the Potomac is three hundred and forty miles. York River is formed by the junction of the Mattapony and Pamunky. Beyond the junction, the Mattapony is navigable for seventy miles ; and thirty miles higher up is its source in the Blue Mountains. The Pamunky is formed by the junction of the North and South Anna rivers, which rise in the north-west about fifty miles distant. The mouth of this river is three miles wide ; and at high tide there is four fathoms water, twenty-five miles above Yorktown, where it is a mile and a naif wide in the wet season, but has a channel of only seventy-five fathoms in the dry season. James' River is one of the most important rivers in the state of Virginia. It rises in the Alleghany Mountains, near two hundred miles tp the west of Richmond ; and, after widening and contracting alternately in a very winding course, it enters Chesapeak bay fifteen miles west of Cape Henry ; ifs whole length being three hundred miles. 'Its principal tributary streams are the Rivanna, the Appomatox, the Chickahomany, the Nansemond, and the Elizabeth, on which last is situated the town of Norfolk. This river, anciently called the Powhatan, affords harbor for vessels of any burden, in Hampton Road, seventy miles below Richmond. Vessels of two hundred and fifty tons may go up to Warwick ; and those of one hundred and fifty to within a mile of Richmond. The Roanoake is formed by the junction of the Ban and Staunton. It runs one hundred and twenty-five miles south-east till it enters Albemarle sound. Its whole course is two hundred miles. It is navigable by sloops sixty miles ; the low lands on the banks are subjected to annual inun- dations. Cape Fear River is the largest in Nerth Carolina. It rises one hundred miles above Fayetteville; and thence running two hundred miles eastward, 1 into the Atlantic ocean at Cape Fear, where it is three miles wide, PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 59 and eighteen feet deep at high tide. It is navigable by vessels drawing ten feet water, up to Wilmington, a little below the confluence of its two prin cipal streams. The Great Pedee rises in the, .Blue Mountains, on the borders of North Carolina and Virginia, where it has the name of Yadkin river. Its whole course is upwards of three hundred miles, half of which is in. North Caro lina. It is navigable by ships to Georgetown ; and for smaller vessels, one hundred miles higher up. The Santee is the largest river in the state of South Carolina, and is formed by the junction of the Congaree and Wateree rivers. The whple course pf the Santee, including that ef the Catawbaw er Wateree, is three hundred and fifty miles. It is navigable up to the point of junction by ships of burden. The Savannah River which forms the boundary between South Carolina and Georgia, is a bold and deep stream, and is formed by the junction of the Keowee and Tugeloo, two small streams issuing from the Blue Ridge, two hundred and fifty miles from the sea. It runs in a straight south-east course all the way to its mouth, seventeen miles below Savannah. It is navigable for ships of any burden to within three miles of Savannah ; for vessels pf twp hundred and fifty tpns to Savannah ; and for boats of one hundred feet keel, to Augusta, above which the rapids commence ; after passing them, the river can be navigated in small boats, eighty miles higher, to the junction of the tributary rivers. HI. RIVERS OF THE PACIFIC AND THE GREAT LAKES. The waters that rise on the western declivities of the Rocky Mountains flow into the Columbia, the /Multnomah and the Lake Bueneventura. Co lumbia or Oregon river rises-within a mile of the head-waters of the Missouri. It collects its tribute for a wide extent along the western dividing ridges of the mountains, and on emerging from them becomes at pnce a broad arid deep stream. After receiving Clark's and Lewis' rivers, -. each a large strearn, from the east, it widens t0 nine hundred and sixty yards, and forms a great southern bend through the second chain of mountains. One hun dred and thirty-six miles below^ are the great falls, where the river descends in one rapid, fifty-seven feet. Below these falls, it winds first to the north west and then to the south-west, and passes through the third chain of mountains, where it is again compressed to the width of one hundred and fifty yards. Below this rapid, at one hundred and eighty miles, from the sea, it meets the tide, beyond which it has a broad estuary to the sea. Sixty miles below the rapids, Multnomah, a very large and unexplored tributary, falls in from the north-east. The mouth of the river is in latitude forty-six degrees and twenty-four minutes, and the tide there rises eight feet and a half. The Columbia and its tributaries abound in the .finest salmon, which is said to form the principal food of the savages west pf the Rpcky Moun tains. Seals and pther aquatic animals are taken in this river in great numbers, and the skins shipped tp China cpnstitute the chief article of trade from this great river. A number of the.head streams of the Missouri interlock with the- waters .oi the Columbia. The whole course of the river is about one thousand five hundred miles. As this river waters an immense territory which has recently become a subject of great interest, we have 60 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. subjoined, in a note, a partial account of its navigation, from the interesting work of Mr. Ross Cox.* * Weset offa little before sunrise; and about an hour afterward entered the first lake formed by the Columbia. It is between eleven and twelve leagues long, and about one and a half in breadth ; the current smooth and steady, and pretty free from snags or sunken trees. The shores are bold and well wooded with a variety of timber of fine size ; and in the distance we first caught a view of the most western chain of the Rocky Moun tains covered with snow. A head wind, during the greater part of the day, considerably /etarded our progress ; and- we encamped late, near the upper end of the lake, where a few Indians visited us. They appeared to be very poor, and brought about a dozen beaver skins to trade, which we told them we could not purchase, as we were obliged to cross the mountains ; but that our party, going downwards in the autumn, would stop a few days with them, and trade all the skins they had. They were rather, disappointed; but a little tobacco, and some Hiding presents, sent them away in good humor. Shortly after embarking on- the morning of the 18th, we left the lake, and entered that part of the river called the straits, which separates the upper from the lower lake. It is only a few miles in length, and quickly brought us to the upper lake, which is not so long as the first. The high hills in its immediate vicinity were covered with snow, the chilling influence of which we sensibly-experienced by the cold blasts from the shore Encamped at sunset at the upper end of the lake, on a fine sandy beach. Daring the day we struck on two sand-banks, and were slightly injured by a sunken tree. Saw no Jndians. 19th. About two miles above our encampment of last night, the Columbia becomes very narrow, with steep and thickly wooded banks, covered.with immense quantities of fallen trees. The current is very strong, and, owing to the great height of the water, the men at intervals had scarcely any beach on which to walk in dragging up the canoes. Our progress was consequently slow ; and we put ashore for the night about fifteen miles above the lake. At nine o'clock on the mornmg ofthe 20th we reached the second Dallas, or narrows, which are formed by a contraction of the channel of the river into a very small compass There are high and slippery rocks on each side, which make it a work of great danger and difficulty to pass them. The baggage was all carried by the men, and the canoes were towed up with strong hnes, after being in great danger of filling, from the frightful whirlpools close along the shore. The weather became much cooler from the proximity of the mountains. Several patches of snow were observable on the beach during the day, and towards evening some rain fell. From dawn of day until noon on the 21st, we did not make three-miles, owing to the impetuosity of the current, the shelving banks, and the extreme weakness of our men, several of whom were knocked up. We were detained at one place upwards of four hours to repair our shattered canoes, and encamped about six o'clock on a low gravelly point. We had several smart showers during the afternoon. 22d. About two, P. M. arrived at a place called the Upper Dallas, where the river is again confined for a considerable distance between a line of high slippery rocks. Got about half way through this channel, and stopped for the night in a small nook formed by the rocks, on which we lay scattered and exposed to severe rain during the night. We rose wet and unrefreshed on the morning of the 23d, and in five hours passed the Dallas, the upper part of which consists of a chain of whirlpools, which compelled us to carry both canoes and baggage some distance over the rocks ; in the execution of which duty, some of the men narrowly escaped with their hves. Those who carried our canoe, from mere exhaustion fell several times, by which it was much damaged ; and we were detained until three, P. M. to get it repaired. Encamped at dusk on a sandy beach, for which we had been some time on the look-out. The rain continued during the evening ind the night to pour down in torrents. Our progress on the 24th was equally slow. The various tributary streams which we passed on this and the last two days, and which lake their rise from the surrounding mountains, had by the recent rains been swollen into torrents, the waters of which, aa they rushed with headlong force into the Columbia, repeatedly drove us back with irre sistible strength, and at times we were in danger of filling. On two occasions, where the opposite shore of the Columbia consisted of perpendicular rocks, we were obliged after various fruitless attempts to pass the minor streams, to unload and carry the PHYSICAL GEOGUAPHY, £1 The rivers which flow into the great lakes are, for the most part, smal, and unimportant. A permanent communication between their waters and those of the Mississippi might be formed by means of a short canal from the Fox or Chicago rivers, both pf which empty intp Lake Michigan. The Fox river rises near the Ouisconsin branch pf the Mississippi, and afterwards flows within one and a half miles of its channel, separated from it pnly by a short portage over a prairie. During the season of high water, the intervening greund is overflowed, so that loaded boats may pass over it. Saganaw River is a large and deep stream, with bold shores, and nume rous tributaries, which water a large extent of very delightful and fertile country. The banks of this stream are inhabited by detached bands of Chippeway and Ottaway Indians, who have long derived an easy subsis tence from the abundance of game and fish to be found in their neighbor hood. The Saganaw empties into a fine bay of the same name, which is by far the largest ef the numerous inlets which indent the "very irregular shores of Lake Huren. The Gennessee rises in Pennsylvania, and runs north across the west paTt of New York into Lake Ontario. Five miles from its mputh, at Rpchester, are falls pf ninety-six and seventy-five feet in descent ; above these falls the stream is navigable for boats nearly seventy miles, where two other falls occur, of sixty and ninety feet, one of which is formed by the slope of land which extends from Lewiston on Niagara river. Black River receives its name from the color of its water. It rises in the high lands, north of the Mohawk, and its branches interlock with those of the Hudson ; it pursues a northerly course pf pne hundred and twenty miles, and falls into Lake Ontario, near its outlet. It is a deep but sluggish stream, and the navigation is interrupted by falls ; a series of which, called the Long Falls, extend fourteen miles. The land upen this stream is generaUy a rich, dark colored mould. The Oswegatchie consists of two branches, which- unite four miles abpve their entrance into the St. Law rence. The east branch is abeut pne hundred and twenty miles leng, and the west nearly one hundred ; they are very crooked streams. The Oswego issues from Oneida Lake, and runs north-westerly into Lake On tario ; it is about forty miles long and is a rapid stream ; its navigatinn^is assisted by leeks and canals. The Maumee rises in the north-eastern part of Indiana, and flows through the north-western part of Ohio into Lake Erie ; it is broad and deep, but has an obstruction from shoals and rapids thirty-three miles above its mouth. The Sandusky rises in the northern part of Ohio, and flows northerly into Lake Erie ; it is one hundred miles in length, and is navigable. GENERAL REMARKS ON RIVERS. The beds of rivers are the lowest parts of great chasms, formed by the same" revo lutions which produced the mountains. Running waters-unceasingly wear away their beds and banks in places where their declivity is very rapid ; they hollow out and deepen their channels in mountains composed of rocks of moderate hardness ; they draw along stones, and form accumulations of them in the lower part of their course ; and thus their beds are often gradually elevated in the plains, while they are deepened and canoes and baggage some distance along the banks until we reached a smooth space of current, when we crossed, and by that means surmounted the difficulties of their respec tive embouchures. — Adventures on Columbia Eiver. 62 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. depressed in the mountains. But these changes, though continually going on for thou? sands of years, could only give form to the banks of rivers; they in no wise created the banks themselves. Many great rivers flow with an almost imperceptible declivity. The river of the Amazons has only ten feet and a half declivity upon two hundred leagues of its course, making one twenty-seventh of an ineh for every thousand feet. "When a river is obstructed in its course by a bank of solid rocks, and finds beneath them a stratum of softer materials, its waters wear awSy the softer substance, and thus open for themselves a subterraneous passage, more or less long. Such are the causes which have formed the magnificent Rock Bridge in Virgmia, an astonishing vault uniting two mountains, separated by a ravine two hundred and seventy feet in depth, in which the Cedar Creek flows. In Louisiana, trees, or rather whole forests, have been observed to fall on a river, covering it nearly with vegetable earth ; and thus giving rise to a natural bridge which for leagues has hid the course of the river. Rivers in running into the sea present a great variety of interesting phenomena ; many form sand-banks, as the Senegal and the Nile ; others, like the Danube, run with such force into the sea, that one can for a certain space distinguish the waters of the river from those of the sea. The waters of the little river Syre in Norway are discernable for a considerable distance in the sea. It is only by a very large mouth, like that of the Loire, the Elbe, or the Plata, that a river can peacefully mingle with the sea. Rivers even of this nature, however, sometimes experience the superior influence of the sea, which repels the waters into their bed.. Thus the Seine forms at its mouth a. bar of considerable extent ; and the Garonne, unable to discharge with sufficient rapidity the waters which it accumulates in a kind of gulf between Bordeaux and its mouth, exhibits this aquatic mountain, stopped by the flow of the tide rolfing backwards, inundating the banks, and stopping vessels in their progress both up and down. This phenome non, termed the Mascaret, is only the' collision of two bodies of water moving in oppo site directions. The most sublime phenomenon of tbis kind which presents itself is that of the giant of rivers Orellana, called the river ofthe Amazons. Twice a day it pours out -its imprisoned waves into the bosom of the ocean. A liquid mountain is thus raised to the height of one hundred and eighty feet ; it frequently meets the flowing tide ofthe sea, and the shock of these two bodies of water is so dreadful that it makes all the neighboring islands tremble ;. the fishermen and. navigators fly from it in the utmost terror. The next day, or the second day after every new or full moon, the time when the tides are highest, the river also' seems to redouble its power and energy; its waters and those of the ocean rush against • each other like the onset of two armies. The banks are inundated with their foaming Waves; the rocks drawn along like light vessels, dash against each other, almost upon the surface of the water which bears them on. Loud roarings echo from island to island. It has been said that- the Genius of the Eiver and the God of the Ocean contended in battle for the empire of the waves. The Indians, call this phenomenon Fororoca. COMPARATIVE VIEW" QF THE RIVERS OF THE WORLD. NORTH AMERICA. Na/nies. Missouri Mississippi Arkansas ¦ St. Lawrence MackenzieDel Norte Nelson ColumbiaRed River Platte Length. 4;400 3,000 .2,100 2,000 2,000 2,000 1,5001,5001,5001,500 Names. Length. Ohio 1,350 Kansas 1,200 White River 1,200 Tennessee 1,100 Alabama 650 Savannah 600 Potomac 550 Connecticut 410 Hudson 324 Delaware- 300 SOUTH AMERICA. MaranonLa Plata Madeira OrinocoTocantins 4,500 3,000 2,500 1,800 1,800 Ucayale St. Francisco Paraguay Xingu Topajos 1,6001,500 1,400' 1,4001,300 Navies. Volga Danube DonDnieperKemi.Rhine Nile Senegal Yangtse Kian LenaAmourObi YeniseiGanges EUROPE. Length. Names. Elbe 2,040 1,710 1,050 1,080 780670 LoireVistulaDniesterTagusDwina AFRICA. 2,687 1 Orange 956 Gambia ASIA. Length. 570540500 480580 480'900700 3,300 2,470 2,360 2,260 2,1502,040 'Burrampooter 2,040 Irrawaddy 2,040 Cambodia 2,000 Euphrates 1,820 Hoang Ho 2,900 Meinam 1,601* 63 CHAPTER V.— CATARACTS AND CASCADES. The Falls of Niagara have been very frequently and minutely described, thnugh it must be acknewledged, as has been well said by the celebrated Audubon, that all the pictures you may see, all the descriptions you may read of these mighty falls, can only produce in your mind the faint glimmer of a glow-worm compared with the overpowering glory of the meridian sun. * What!' said he, 'have I come here to mimic nature in her grandest enter prise, and add my caricature of one of the wonders of the world to those which I here see ? No. — I give up the vain attempt. I will look on these mighty cataracts, and imprint them where they alone can be represented, — pn my mind !' The following very full and accurate description by Mr. Schoolcraft, is the best with which we are acquainted. ' On the first of May, I visited the celebrated Falls of Niagara.* Keep ing the American shore, the road lies over an alluvial country, elevated from ten to twenty feet above the water of the river, without a hill or a ledge of rocks, and with scarce an undulation of surface, to indicate the existence, or prepare the eye for the stupendous prospect which bursts, somewhat unexpectedly, into view. The day was clear and warm, with a tight breeze blowing down the river. We stopped frequently on nur ap proach to listen for the sound of the Fall, but at the distance of fifteen, ten, eight, and even five miles, could not distinguish any, even by laying the ear to the ground. It was not until within three miles of the precipice, where the road runs close to the edge of the river, and brings the rapids in full view, that we could distinctly hear the sound, which then, owing to a change in the wind, fell so heavily upon the ear, that in proceeding a short distance, it was difficult to maintain a conversation as we rode along. On reaching the Falls, nothing struck me with more surprise, than that the Baron La Hontan, who visited it in August, 1688, should have fallen into so egregious a mistake, as to the height of the perpendicular pitch, which he represents at seven or eight hundred feet. Nor does the nafrator of the discoveries of the unfortunate La Salle, Monsieur Tonti, approach much nearer the truth, when he states it at six hundred feet. Charlevoix, whose work is characterized by more accuracy, learning, and research, than those who had preceded him, and who saw the Falls in 1721, makes, on the con trary, an estimate which is surprising for the degree of accuracy he has attained. " For my own part," he says, " after examining it on all sides, where it could be viewed to the greatest advantage, I am inclined to think we cannot allow it les*s than a hundred and forty pr fifty feet." The latter, (one hundred and fifty,) is precisely what the Fall on the Canadian side is now estimated at. There is a rapid of two miles in extent above, and another of seven miles, extending te Lewiston, below the Falls. The breadth across, at the brink of the Fall, which is serrated and irregular, is * This is an Iroquois word, said to signify the thunder of maters, and the word as still jH-onounced hy the Senecas, is O-m-dd-gdr&h, being strongly accented on the third sylla ble, -while the interjection O, is so feebly uttered, that, without a nice attention, it may escape notice 64 BOOK- OF THE UNITED STATES. -estimated at four thousand two hundred and thirty feet, or a little more than three fourths of a mile. The Fall on the American shore is one hun dred and sixty-four feet, being the highest known perpendicular pitch of so great a volume of water. The fall of the rapid above, commencing at Chippewa, is estimated at ninety feet, and the entire fall ef Niagara river from Lake Erie to Lake Ontario, a distance of thirty-five miles, at three hundred feet. Goat Island, which divides the water into two unequal sheets, has recently been called Iris, (in allusion to the perpetual rainbows by which it is characterized) by the commissioners for settling the boundaries ¦of- the United States, acting under the treaty of Ghent. ' In approaching this cataract from Lewiston, the elevated and rocky description of country it is necessary to cross, tpgether with the increased distance at which the roar is heard in that direction, must serve tn prepare the mind for encountering a scene which there is nothing to indicate on approaching from Buffalo ; and this impression unquestionably continues to •exercise an effect upon the beholder, after his arrival at the Falls. The first European visiters beheld it under this influence. Following the path of the Couriers de Bois, they proceeded from Montreal up the St. Lawrence, to Fort Caderacqui, and around the shores of Lake Ontario, to the alluvial tract which stretches from the mouth of Niagara river, to the site of Lew iston. Here the Ridge, emphatically so called, commences, and the number -of elevations which it is necessary to ascend in crossing it, may, without a proper consideration of the intermediate descents, have led those who for merly approached that way into error, such as La Hontan and Tonti fell into. They must have been deprived also of the advantages of the view from the gulf at the foot of the Falls, for we are not prepared to admit the possibility of a descent without artificial stairs, pr pther analogous, laborious and dangerous works, such, as at that remote period, must have been looked upon as a stupendous undertaking; and could not, indeed-,, have been accomplished, surrounded as the French then were, by their enemies, the jealous and ever watchful Iroquois. The descent at the- present period, with every advantage arising from the labors of mechanical ingenuity, •cannot be performed without feeling spme degree ef personal solicitude. It is in this chasm that the sound of the water falls heaviest upon the ear, and that the mind becomes fully impressed with the appalling majesty of the Fall. Other views from the banks on both sides of the river, and from: the Island of Iris in its centre, are more beautiful and picturesque: but it is here that the tremulous motion of the earth, the clouds of irridescent spray, the broken cplumn pf falling water, the stunning seund, the lofty banks of the river, and the wide spreading ruin of rocks, imprint a character of wonder and terror upon the scene, which no other point of view is capa ble of producing. The spectator, who, on aUghting at Niagara, walks hastily to the brink, feels his attention imperceptibly riveted to the novel and striking phenomenon before him, and at this moment is apt either to overrate or to underrate the magnitude of the Fall. It is not easy to erect a standard of comparison; and the view requires to be studied,. in order to attain a just conception and appreciation of its grandeur and its beauties. The ear is at first stunned by the incessant roar, and the eye bewildered in the general view. In proportion as these become familiarized, we seize upon the individual features of the landscape, and are enabled to distinguish between the gay and the sombre, the bold and the picturesque, the harsh PHYSIGAL GEOGUAPHV. 65 ¦and the mellow traits, which, like the deep contrasted -shades'of some high wrought picture, contribute to give effect to the scene. ' It was some time before I could satisfy myself pf the accuracy ef the .accredited measurements ef the height of the Fall, and not until after I had made repeated visits, and spent a considerable time in the abyss below. There appears a great disproportion between the height and the width of the falling sheet, but the longer I remained, the more magnificent it appeared to me ; and hence it is, that with something like a feeling of disappoint ment, on my first arrival, I left the Falls after a visit of two days, with an impression of the scene which every thing I had previously read, had failed to create. At the time of my visit, the wind drove the floating ice out of Lake Erie, with the drift-wood of its tributary rivers, and these were con stantly precipitated over the Falls, but we were not able to discover any vestiges of them in the eddies below. Immediately in front of the sheet of falling water on the American side, there was also an enormous bank of snow, of nearly an hundred feet in height, which the power of the sun had not yet been fierce enough to dissolve, and which, by giving an Icelandic character to the landscape, produced a fine effect. It appeared to me ' owe its accumulation lo the falling particles of frozen spray. 'What has been said by Goldsmith, and repeated by others, respecti the destructive influence of the rapids* above to ducks and other wa -fowl, is only an effect of the imagination. So far from being the case, Bridge and Rapids above the FaUs. wild duck is Often seen to swim down the rapid to the brink of the Falls, and then fly out, and repeat the descent, seeming to take a delight in the exercise. Neither are small land-birds affected on flying over the Falls, in the manner that has been stated. I observed the blue-bird and the wren, * The grandeur of these rapids is worthy of the cataract in which they terminate. In the greater branch, the river comes foaming down with prodigious impetuosity, and presents a surface of agitated billows, dashing wildly through the Tocks and islands. This scene of commotion continues till within about thirty yards of the Fall. There the great body of the stream resumes its tranquility, and in solemn grandeur descends 'into the cliudy and unfathomable abyss. Never was there a nobler prelude-to a sub lime catastrophe. — Colonel Hamilton. 6fi BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. Which had already made their annual visit to the banks of the Niagara, frequently fly wilhin one or two feet of the brink, apparently delighted with the gift of their wings, which enabled them to sport over such fright ful precipices without danger. We are certainly not well pleased to find that some of the wonderful stories we have read of the Falls, during boy hood, do not turn out to be the truth ; but, at the same time, a little attention is only necessary to discover that many interesting facts and particulars remain unnoticed, which fully compensate for others that have been over strained or misstated. Among these, the crystalline appearances disclosed among the prostrate ruins, and the geological character of the Fall itself, are not the least interesting. ' The scenes where nature has experienced her greatest convulsions, are always the most favorable for acquiring a knowledge of the internal struc ture of the earth. The peaks of the highest mountains, and the depths of the lowest ravines, present the greatest attractions to the geologist. Hence this cataract, which has worn its way for a number of miles, and tp a very great depth, through the stony crust of the earth, is no less inte/resting for the geological facts it discloses, than for the magnificence of its natural scenery. The chain of highlands, called the Ridge, originates in Upper Canada, and running parallel with the south shore of Lake Ontario, forms a natural terrace, which pervades the western counties of New-York, from north to south, affording, by its unbroken chain, and the horizontal position of its strata, the advantages of a natural road, and terminates in an unex plored part of the county of Oswegp, or thereabout. It is in crossing this ridge, that the falls of the Niagara, of the Gennessee, and of the Oswego rivers, all running into Lake Ontario, are produced ; together with those ef an infinite number of smaller streams and brnpks. Through this, the Niagara has cut its way for a distance of seven miles, and to a depth of more than two hundred feet, disclosing the number, order of stratification, and mineral character, of the different strata of secondary rocks, of which it is composed. ' These rocks, (sandstone, slate, and limestone,) however their properties may be found modified by future discoveries, will probably be found, with a proper allowance for local formations and disturbances, to pervade aU that section of country, which lies between the Niagara and Seneca rivers, between lakes Ontario and Seneca, and between the Alleghany river and the south shore of Lake Erie, as general boundaries. AU this section of country appears to be underlayed by a stratum of red sandstone, such as appears at the Gennessee Falls, but which is imbedded at varinus depths, as the country happens to be elevated above, or depressed belew the level of the Niagara stratum, in which no inclination is visible. No order of strati fication could have been effected by nature, which would have afforded greater facilities to the wasting effects of falling water, so visible as these Falls. The slate which separates the calcareous from the sandstone rock, by a stratum of nearly forty feet in thickness, is continually fretting away, and undermining the superincumbent stratum of limestone, wliich is thus precipitated in prodigious masses into the abyss below. The most con siderable occurrence of this kind, that has recently taken place, is that of the Table Rock,* on the Canadian shore, which fell during the summer of * The Table Rock was a favorite point of view for many years, and the day prece ding the night on which it fell with tremendous noise, _ number of visitors had .stood with careless security upon it. PHYSICAL GBB6RAPHY. QJ 1818, disclosing a number of those crystallized substances, whisn have already been alluded to. By tliese means, the Falls, which are- supposed by the most intelligent visitors to have been anciently seated at Lewistbn, have progressed seven miles up the river, cutting a. trench through the solid rock, which is about h^lf a, mile in width, and two hundred feet in depth, exclusive of what is hidden by the ' water. The pewer, capable of effecting such a wpnderful change, still exists, and may be supppsed to operate with undiminished activity. The wasting effects ef the water, and the yielding nature vi the recks, remain the same, and manifest the slow process of a change, at the present period, as to position, height, form, division of column, and other characters; which fprm the outlines of the great scene; and this change is probably sufficiently rapid in its opera tion,' if minute observatiens were taken, to imprint a different charadef upon the falls, at the close of every century.' The Great Falls of the Missouri are the ^grandest in all North America, those of Niagara excepted, and though inferior to these in volume of water, depth of descent, and awful grandeur, yet they are far more diversified and beautiful. These Falls are within sixty geographical miles of theeastern- most range of the Rocky Mountains. Here the river, two hundred and eight ty yards, or-«eight hundred and forty feet wide, is pressed in by a per pendicular cliff on the left, one hundred feet high, and. extending for a mile up the river ; on the right, the bluff, or high^steep bank, is also, per pendicular for three hundred yards above the falls. For ninety or one hundred yards from the left cliff, the Water falls in one smppth even sheet over a precipice of eighty-seven feet eight inches, according to Captain Lewis ; but ninety-eight feet, aecording to Cass, and Captain Clarke. The remaining part of. the river precipitates itself with a more rapid cur rent ; but being received as it faUs by' the irregular and projecting rocks be low, ferms a splendid prospect ef perfectly white fe'amr twp hundred yards in length, and eighty in perpendicular elevatien, This spray is dissipat ed into a thousand 'different shapes; semetimes flying up in celumns pf fifteen er twenty -feet, which are then expressed by larger masses ef the white foam, oh all ¦ which the sun impresses the brightest colors of the rainbow. As it rises from the fall, it beats with fury against a ledge ef rocks extending across the river, at one hundred and fifty yards from the precipice. From the^ perpendicular cliff on the north, to the distance of one hundred and twenty yards, the rocks rise only a few feet above the surface of the water ; and when the river is high, the stream find's a pas sage across them ; but be.tween the southern extremity of this ledge and the perpendicular cliff en the seuth, the whple body ef water runs with great rapidity. ¦ At the distance ef tfhreehundred yards is a secend~abut-> ment pf spUd perpendicular reck, sixty feet high, projecting at right angles from the small plain en thenerth fpr pne hundred and thirty-feur yards in to the river. Below this, the Missouri regains its usual breadth of three hundred yards, but there is a continued succession of rapids and cascades* At the second grand fall, the river, four hundred yards wide, precipitates itself, for the space of three hundred yards, to a depth of nineteen feet perpendicular, and so . irregularly, that Captain Lewis termed it the Crooked Fall. - '¦ ~: Above this fall, the Missouri bends suddenly to the northward,?where, four hundred and seventy-three yards wide, it is suddenly stopped by one 68 BOOK OF TH« UNITED .STATES. shelving rock, which without a single niche, and. with an edge as straight and regular as if it had been formed by art, stretches itself across from one side pf the river tp the other. -Over thjs the Missouri precipitates itself in ene even, uninterrupted sheet, ef four hundred and seventy-three yards broad to the perpendicular depth of forty-seven feet eight inches ; whence, dashing against the rocky bottom, it rushes rapidly down, leaving behind it a spray of the purest foam across the river. At the distance of less than half a mile, another of a similar kind is presented. Here a cascade stretches across the whole river, for a quarter pf a mile, with a descent pf fourteen feet seven inches, though the perpendicular pitch is "only six feet seven inches. Fer the space ef pne theusand pne hundred and seventy- seven yards above this cascade, the river descends fifteen feet. Immediate ly abeve this, one of the largest springs in Ameriea falls into the river. Its water is cold, of the most perfect clearness, and of a bluish color, which it preserves, even for half a mile after falling into the Missouri, not withstanding its rapidity. This fountain rises in the plain, twenty-five yards from the river, on the south side. In "its course to the river, it faUs oyer some steep, irregular rocks, with a sudden descent of eight feet perpen dicular, in one part of its progress. The water boils up from among the rocks, and with such force near the centre that the surface seems higher than the earth on the sides of the fountain, which is a handsome turf of green grass. The water js pleasant to the taste, not being impregnated with lime er any adventitious substance. For the space of a mile and one theusand pne hundred and sixty-six yards above the mouth of this spring, the descent of the river is'thirteen feet six inches. During the upper part of its cpurse, this river is- remarkable fer a suc cession of rapids, cascades, and cataracts, and in a cpurse pf abput three miles it has a descent pf np less than three hundred and fifty- two feet. On the Mississippi River are several sets of rapids. One called Les Ra pides des Moines, is eleven miles long, and consists of successive ledges and shoals, extending from shore to shore across the bed of the river. One hundred miles higher up is another, about eighteen miles in length, and consisting pf a continued chain ef rocks, ever which the water flews with turbulent rapidity. About thirty miles from its source, the Mississippi, after winding through a dismal country, covered with high grass meadows, with pine swamps in the distance, which appear to cast a deeper glopm en its borders, is sudden ly pent up in a channel about eighty feet wide, where it has a descent of twenty feet in three hundred yards. This fhll is called Peckagama. Im mediately at the. head of the falls is the first island noticed in the river. It is small, rocky, covered with spruce and cedar, and divides the channel nearly in its centre. St. Anthony's FaUs are situated on the Mississippi river, more than two thousand miles aboveits mouth. Above the falls, the river has a width of five or six hundred yards. Immediately below, it contracts to a width of two hundred yards ; and there is a strong rapid for a considerable distance below. This beautiful spot in the Mississippi is not without a tale to hal- Ipw its scenery, and heighten the interest, which, ef itself, it is calculated to produce. In the narrative of Long's Second Expedition, we find the following romantic stpry, related by an eld Indian, whpse mether was an eye-witness te the transactien: PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 69 ' An Indian of the Dacota nation had united himself early in life to a youthful female, whose name was Ampota Sapa, which signifies the Dark Day; with her he lived happily for several years, apparently enjoying eve ry comfort which the savage life can afford. Their unipn had been bles sed with two children, on whom both parents doated with that depth - of St. Anthony's Falls. feeling which is unknown to such as have other treasures besides those that spring "from nature. The man had acquired a reputation as a hunter, which drew around him many families, who were happy to place them selves under his protection, and avail themselves of such part of his chase as he needed not for the' maintenance of his family. Desirous of strength ening their interest with him, some of them invited him to. fprm a connec tion with their family, observing, at the same time, that a man of his talent and importance required more than one woman to wait upon the nume rous guests whom his reputation would induce to visit his lodge. They as sured him that he would soon be acknowledged as a chief, arid, that, in this case, a second wife was indispensable. '- 'Fired with the ambition nf obtaining high honors, he resolved tp in crease his importance by an union with the daughter of an influential man of his tribe. He had accordingly taken a second wife without ever having mentioned the subject to his former companion ; being desirous, to intro duce his bride into his lodge in the manner which should be least offen sive to the mother of his children, for whom he still retained much regard, he introduced the subject in these words : " You know," said he, " that I can love no woman so fondly as I doat upon you. With regret have I seen ypu pf late subjected te toils which must be oppressive to you, and from which I would gladly relieve you, yet I know no other way of doing so, than by associating with you in fhe household duties, one who shall relieve ypu from the trouble of entertaining the numerous guests, whem my grow ing impprtance in the natien cnllects around me. I have, therefore, re solved upon taking another wife, hut she shall always be subject to ypur control, as. she will always rank in my affectiehs secpnd to you." ' With the utmost anxiety, and the deepest cencern, did his cempamon 70 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. listen to this unexpected proposal. She expostulated in the kindest terms, entreated him with all the arguments which undisguised love and the purest conjugal affections could suggest. She replied to all the objections which his duplicity led him to raise. Desirous of winning her from her opposition, the Indian still concealed the secret of his union with another, while she redoubled all her care to convince him that she was equal to the task imposed upon her. When he again spoke on the subject, she pleaded all the endearments of their past life; she spoke of his former fondness for her, of his regard for her happiness and that of their mutual offspring; she bade him beware of the consequences of this fatal purpose of his; Finding her bent upon withhplding her cpnsent tp this plan, he informed her that all opposition on her part was unnecessary, as he had already se lected another partner, and that if she could not receive his new wife as a friend, she must receive her as a necessary incumbrance, for he had re served that she should be an inmate in his house. ' Distressed at this information, she watched her opportunity, stole away from the cabin with her infants, and fled to a distance where her father was. With him she remained until a party of Indians with whom he lived, went up the Mississippi on a winter hunt. In the spring, as they were returning with their canoes loaded with peltries, they encamped near the Falls. In the morning as they left it, she fingered near the spot, then launched her light canoe, entered into it with her children, and paddled down the stream, singing her death-song. Too late did her friends per ceive it; their attempts to prevent her from proceeding were of no avail; she was heard to sing in a doleful voice the past pleasures which she had enjoyed, while she was the undivided object of her husband's affection; finally her voice was drowned in the sound of the cataract; the current carried down her frail bark with an inconceivable- rapidity ; it came to the edge of the precipice, was seen for a moment envelpped in spray, but never afterwards was a trace of the canoe or its passengers seen. Yet it is stated by the Indians, that often in the morning a voice has been heard to sing a doleful ditty along the edge of the fall, and that it dwells ever on the inconstancy of her husband. Nay, some assert that her spirit has been seen wandering near the spot with her children wrapped to her bosom. Such are the tales' or traditions which the Indians treasure up, and which they relate to the voyager, forcing a tear from the eyes of the most unrelenting.' There are many other falls in the United States, which have been the subject of no extended descriptions, but which would excite admiration in any quarter of the world. In New York, the Great Falls of the Genesee, about half a mile below Rochester, are ninety feet perpendicu lar, and a few rods abpve is anether pf five feet, surmounted by a rapid. On the same river are several other falls. Trenton FaUs are on West Canada Creek, a tributary of the Mohawk, fourteen miles north of Utica; they consist of several grand and beautiful cascades, some of them forty feet in descent. The river here passes through a rocky chasm four miles in length, presenting the greatest variety of cascades and rapids, boiling pool? and eddies. The rock is a dark limestone, and contains abundance of petrified marine shells. Glen's Falls are upon the Hudson, eighteen fl-ileS above ^Saratoga, and are a grand rapid, falling sixty-seven feet in a course of one hundred and seventy yards. Jessup's Falls and Hadley FaUs PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 71 are beautiful cataracts pn the same stream, a few miles abeve. Claverack Falls are upen a stream near the city ef Hudsun; they descend dewn a precipice ef dark rocks into a deep chasm shaded with forest trees. The cataracts near Ithaca comprise four hundred and thirty-eight feet of descent in a mile ; the fall of the Cohoes on the Mohawk is seventy feet. kX Bellows Falls, five miles from the tewn pf Walpole, pn the Connec ticut, the whple descent of the river, in the space of half a mile, is forty-four feet ; and it includes several pitches, ene below anether, at the highest ef which a large rock divides the stream into twp channels, each about ninety feet wide. When the Water is low, the eastern channel is dry, being crossed by a solid rock, and the whole stream falls into the western channel, where, being contracted to the breadth of- sixteen feet, it flaws with astonishing force and rapidity. Abridge has been built over these falls, from which an advantageeus view is had of their interesting and romantic scenery. Seme years ago a canal, over half a mile long,"was dug through the rocks around the falls, for the passage of flat-bottomed boats and rafts. Not withstanding the velocity of the current, salmon used to pass up the fall in great hUmbers. Amoskeag Falls, in the Merrimack, consist of three suc cessive pitches, falling nearly fifty feet. The Housatonic Falls, in the north-west part of Connecticut, are the finest in New England. Source of Passaic Falls. The Passaic Falls, in Paterson, New Jersey, twenty-two miles north west of New York, are highly picturesque and beajjtiful. The river Passaic rises in the northern part of New Jersey, and after a circuitous cpurse, falls into Newark Bay. At the town of Paterson, about twenty miles from its mouth, is the Great Fall, where the river, about one hundred and twenty feet wide, and running with a very . swift current, reaches a deep chasm, or cleft, which crosses the channel, and falls perpen dicularly abeut seventy feet, in one entire sheet. One end of the cleft is closed up, and the water rushes out at the other with incredible rapidity, in an acute angle to its former direction, and is received into a large basin. It thence takes a winding course through the rocks, and spreads again into a very considerable channel. The cleft is from four to twelve feet in breadth, and is supposed to have been^ produced by an earthquake. When 72 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES. this cataract was visited by a late British traveller, the spray refracted two beautiful rainbows, primary and secondary, which greatly assisted iff pro ducing as fine a scene as imagination can conceive. It was also heightened by the effect of another fall, of less magnificence, about ninety feet above. The spirit of utility, in its stern disregard of the picturesque, has diverted the current ef the Passaic inte so many channels for the supply of manu factories, that the cascade is now an object of interest only during the wet season. The Potomac, which forms the boundary between the states of Mary land and Virginia, is navigable to the city of Washington ; above which it is obstructed by several falls, of which the most remarkable are Little Falls, three miles above Washington, with a descent of thirty-seven feet : Great Falls, eight and a half miles further up, with a descent of seventy-six feet ; which haye been made navigable by means of five locks : Seneca Falls, six miles above, descending ten feet : Shenandoah Falls, sixty miles higher up the river, where the Potomac breaks through the Blue Ridge at Harper's Ferry : Houre's Falls, five miles above the Shenandoah. In addition to the cataracts above enumerated, we may notice the Falling Spring, in Bath county, Virginia, which forms a beautiful cascade, stream ing from a perpendicular precipice, two hundred feet high ; and the Tuccoa Fall, in Franklin county, Georgia, which, though one of the most beautiful that can be conceived, is scarcely yet known to geographers. It is one hundred and eighty-seven feet in height, and the water is propelled over a perpendicular rock. When the stream is full, it pours over the steep in one expansive magnificent sheet, amid clouds of spray, on which the pris matic colors are reflected with a most enchanting effect. The cascades of the Catskill Mountains are very romantic and beautiful. The Kaaterskill is formed by the union of two branches, one rising in two lakes, about one and a half miles east of the western cascade, the ether about halfthe distance in a northerly direction. The best view of the western fall is from below, the foliage above being so thick as in a great measure to obscure it. Below the fall the banks of the stream, which are nearly three hundred feet in height, rise almost perpendicularly from the surface of the water. The following description is from the pen of Mr. H. E. Dwight. ' The rocks on each side of the stream project so as partially to eclipse the sides of the fall. They have fallen from time to time, in such a man ner as to form seventeen natural steps, rising one above another. We stationed ourselves on these steps, to enjoy the scenery around us. Befere us the stream fell in a beautiful sheet, exhibiting its transparent waters, when, striking the inclined plane, it rushed dewn with headlong fury, bearing on its surface a foam of silvery whiteness. On the right and left, the banks rose over our heads in silent grandeur, as if on the point of detaching their projecting masses into the ravine where we were standing while below us, the water was visible for about thirty rods, descending in the fprm pf a rapid, when, bending around the pnint of a projectien pf the meuntain, it disappeared from pur view. The spray was sp thick as to make a dense cleud, pn which the sun, shining with great brilliancy, and being nearly vertical, imprinted a perfect rainbow. This bew, which was npt mpre than eight feet in diameter, fermed a circle around us sUghtly PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 73 .elliptical, near the centre of which we stood. As we approached the faU, . the spray thickened, the splendor- of the colors increased, and the shrubs, the rocks, and the water, were tinged with its choicest hues. To complete the view, a small rivulet, caused by the late rains, fell about two hundred feet, in the form of a cascade, down the precipice, on the southern bank of the stream, displaying its crystal waters through the green foliage which adorned it. We remained here enjoying the prospect for some minutes, when, drenched with spray, we reluctantly hade it adieu, with all those emotions which the sublimity and beauty of such a scene weuld naturally awaken. Catskill Falls. ' I visited the eastern cascade immediately after viewing the western fall on the KaaterskiU, when the column of water was swollen to eight or ten times its common size, and shall describe it, as it then appeared. The rock over which the water descends, projects in such a manner that the cascade forms part of a parabolic curve. After striking a rock below, it runs down an inclined plane a few rods in length, when it rushes over another precipice of one hundred feet. The column of water remained entire for two thirds the descent, and its surface was covered with ". rich sparkling foam, which, as it fell, presented to the eye a briUiant emanation. Here it was broken, and formed a continued succession of showers. Large globules of water, of a soft, pearly lustre, enriched with a prismatic reflec tion, shot off in tangents to the curve of the cascade, and being drawn by the attraction of gravitation, united again with the stream. The sun, shining through a clear atmosphere, imprinted on it his glittering rays, appearing like a moving column of transparent snow. The spray, rising to the height of several hundred feet, was continually agitated by a strong wind, which gave birth to a number of rainbows. They were elevated one above the other, and increased in brilliancy towards the base of the cascade, where, as well as at the lower fall, an iris spread its arch of glory, tinging the rocks and fpliage with its brightest cplprs. ' The ground belew these cascades centinued descending at an angle pf forty-five degrees, ferming a hpUow like an inverted cpne, nf one thpusand 10 7 74 BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES feet in depth. This was lined with lofty trees, whose verdant tops, vary ing from the dark hemlock to the. li