was in this light that Mr. Calhoun, the present
enlightened Secretary of War, viewed the matter, and it may be said to
constitute a part of his plan for throwing a _cordon_ of advanced posts
in front of the wide area of our western settlements. From expressions
heard on our route, the breaking up in part of the exceedingly
well-quartered garrison of Madison barracks at Sackett's Harbor, N.Y.,
was not particularly pleasing to the officers of this detachment, most
of whom were married gentlemen, having families, and all of whom were in
snug quarters at that point, surrounded as it is by a rich, thriving,
farming population, and commanding a good and cheap market of meats and
vegetables. To be ordered off suddenly a thousand miles or more, over
three of the great series of lakes, and pitched down here, on the verge
of the civilized world, at the foot of Lake Superior, amid Indians and
Indian traders, where butchers' meat is a thing only to be talked about,
and garden vegetables far more rare than "blackberries," was not,
certainly, an agreeable prospect for officers with wives and mothers
with babies. It might, I am inclined to think from what I heard, be
better justified on the grounds of _national_ than of _domestic_ policy.
They determined, however, on the best possible course under the
circumstances, and took their ladies and families along. This has given
an air of gayety and liveliness to the trip, and, united with the
calmness of the season, and the great novelty and beauty of the scenery,
rendered the passage a very agreeable one. The smoothness of the lakes,
the softness and purity of the air, the wild and picturesque character
of the scenes, and the perfect transparency of the waters, have been so
many themes of perpetual remark and admiration. The occasional
appearance of the feather-plumed Indian in his sylph-like canoe, or the
flapping of a covey of wild-fowl, frightened by the rushing sound of a
steamboat, with the quick pulsation of its paddle-strokes on the water,
but served to heighten the interest, and to cast a kind of fairy spell
over the prospect, particularly as, half shrouded in mist, we passed
among the green islands and brown rocks, fringed with fir trees, which
constituted a perfect panorama as we entered and ascended the Straits of
the St. Mary's.

We sat down to our Fourth-of-July dinner on board the Superior, a little
above the Thunder Bay Islands, in Lake Huron, and as we neared the once
sacr