EXPLORATION OF THE PINERIES ON THE RUM RIVER.

It was near the end of summer when the outfit was in readiness for my exploring voyage. On the first day of September, 1847, there were seen, by Pierre Bottineau and others, three men, his younger brother, Severre Bottineau, Charles Manock, and myself, paddling in a bark canoe up the east shore of the Mississippi river above St. Anthony falls. When opposite what is now called Boom Island, we were hailed by Pierre from the shore, saying, "How far do you expect to travel in that canoe at this low stage of water? The bottom will be out of the canoe in less than a week." We answered, "To Mille Lacs, the source of Rum river;" and the canoe and party moved on up the Mississippi. This little exploring party's report, the money consequently supplied from the east, and Franklin Steele's perseverance and unlimited will, made it possible to make the improvements on unsurveyed government land. My written report secured the capital from Caleb Cushing and his associates; and his influence in Congress secured the survey of the government land adjoining the falls and including this claim. The discovery by the exploring party of the almost inexhaustible pine timber above the falls of St. Anthony, heralded throughout all the states and Canada, brought immigration from every state, and changed this part of the territory from barbarism to civilization.

When the exploring party went up the Mississippi river, half of the present state of Wisconsin was the hunting ground of the Ojibway Indians, three-fourths of what is now Minnesota was owned by the same people, and all the area of the Dakotas was owned by the Sioux Indians. Since 1847 four states have been carved out of that territory and admitted to the Union.

Returning to the exploring party in the canoe, we find them camped at the mouth of Rum river, with the timber crew that came up the road. This crew of twenty men or more were to advance with the exploring party until the first pine was discovered; and then they were immediately to proceed to hew and bank timber until the return of that party. They pushed on the second day to the head of the rapids, about fifteen miles. The canoe had to be carried a part of the

distance, the water being too shallow to float it. We camped on the bank of the river the second night, with the timber crew, and the third night in a tract of scrub pine, known afterward as the Dutchman's grove, about three miles northwest of the present town of Cambridge. The timber crew I located there.

Our party in the canoe started on up the river to explore it all the way to Mille Lacs and see what could be found. The bottomland was wide; the growth of timber was thick, but wholly of deciduous species, with no pine; and the river was crooked. The mosquito, the gnat, and the moose-fly, met and opposed us. They were first in the fight. The battle commenced early each morning and lasted all day. It was a bravely contested battle; for ten days the blood flowed freely. The enemy contested every foot of ground. The fight on our side was for civilization; on theirs for barbarism. When night came we crawled under the mosquito bar that was set up, where all was protected and secure for sleep. But the men were discouraged with the prolonged struggle each day, and said that it would be better to return and wait until later in the autumn, and that if we continued I would be dead in less than a week; but in the morning the canoe was moving on up the river.

The third day from where we left the timber crew, I saw on the west shore a tributary which I wished to explore. had passed over sixty miles of the meandering river course above the timber camp, and had carried the canoe for miles over jams in the river made by trunks of trees that had been washed and torn out of the bank and had floated down and filled the river. Up to this time no tracts of pine forest had been discovered. On the following morning after coming to this tributary, I started to explore it for pine. On each side, all the country was covered with pine and hardwood for miles away from the stream, as far as it was navigable. It was called the West branch of Rum river. At its mouth is now located the town of Princeton. This branch was well timbered for more than twenty-five miles, as also were all its tributaries. The pine on each side was from three to six miles wide. Its amount could hardly be estimated until the land should be surveyed into townships and sections.

We returned to the canoe and pushed on up the main river, until, about dark, we came to a small stream where we camped. The next day I explored this stream to its source, eight miles or more. There was pine on both shores. There was also pine on each side of the main river. I made it a practice to climb a tall tree every six miles when exploring, and to look from its top across the woods which reached far away in every direction.

A large tributary, the most northern entering from the west, which was afterward called Bradbury brook, had the finest pine I had seen. This brook, in its south and north forks, was navigable for log driving, with pine on both shores.

The pine on the main river reached from the shore, on each side, as far as the eye could see from the top of the highest tree, along all its extent of fifty miles or more from the mouth of the West branch to Mille Lacs. I had seen far more pine than the company expected to find.

Billions of feet of pine that grew upon the shores of Rum river and its tributaries belonged to the red man in 1847, but has since been cut and removed by the civilized paleface, whose capital and influence in Congress obtained from the Indian the title and possession of this land and its timber. When once stripped of the pine forest which was its wealth, the land, formerly the hunting ground of the Indians, ought to revert to its original owners, as the inheritance given them by the Great Spirit. A large part of it is worthless for agriculture, but was a source of sustenance to the red man. Abundance of game, and thousands of bushels of wild rice, together with the sugar made from the sap of the maple trees which are found in abundance, supplied to the simple Ojibway an easy living. The annuities which our government now allows them do not repay half of what they relinquished in giving up their lands to the settler and the lumberman.

When the exploring crew came to the Rice lakes, eight miles from Mille Lacs, the squaws had tied the rice together for threshing, and therefore the canoe could not pass through and had to be taken to the shore. We walked to Mille Lacs, which we found to be a very large body of water, too broad for one standing on the shore to see the land on its farthest side. Here we found a band of Indians and an old chief, sec

ond in authority to Hole-in-the-Day. They had planted small gardens, and seemed like half-civilized people. We were treated as braves and given plenty of game, corn, and potatoes.

On the shores of the Rice lakes, which we had passed, many Indians were encamped. In the lakes, for more than six miles, they were gathering the wild rice. I had never seen that article of food before, and desired to know how it was harvested and prepared for food. When the rice is ready for gathering, it is made into bundles by drawing two or three straws around a bunch and tying them. They make lines or rows of these bunches across the lake; and each family has from two to five rows. Each has a canoe with a blanket spread in the bottom to hold the rice. The canoe is run between two rows by two squaws, and they pull the tops of the bunches of rice over the side of the canoe and pound them with a stick. In this simple way they secure large quantities of this nutritious grain. After it has been winnowed, it is prepared for packing by heating it in camp kettles over a fire until it is parched. The grain then is put into packages for storage, and it will keep for years. The packages, which the Ojibways call mokuks, are made of birch bark, and are pitched like a canoe. They hold from a half bushel to one bushel, and are stored away in the ground for winter, being covered with leaves and old bark.

Fifty-four years have passed since I first dealt with the Indians. In all my experience, they have been found more true and honorable than most of the white men with whom they have come in contact on the frontier.

In our return from this exploration we saw sugar maple woods, where the Indians of Mille Lacs and Rum river make a part of their yearly supply of sugar. I have since seen their sugar camps in the spring in full operation. They use the birch bark for vessels to hold the sap, and it is boiled in their iron camp kettles. The hot syrup is strained through a blanket, and on cooling it granulates and makes finely flavored sugar.

I smoked the pipe of peace with the Mille Lacs chief; and, in compliance with my request, he sent one of his braves with me to receive presents where we had left the canoe. I found everything in readiness to return to the timber camp, which