y, we made a short portage through open pine woods.

Fifty yards' walk brought us and our canoe and baggage to the banks of
Queen Anne's Lake, a small sylvan lake through which the whole channel
of the Mississippi passed. A few miles above its termination we entered
another lake of limited size, which the Indians called Pemetascodiac.
The river winds about in this portion of it--through savannas, bordered
by sandhills, and pines in the distance--for about fifteen miles. At
this distance, rapids commence, and the bed of the river exhibited
greenstone and gneissoid boulders. We counted ten of these rapids, which
our guide called the Metoswa, or Ten Rapids. They extend about twenty
miles, during which there is a gradual ascent of about forty feet. The
men got out at each of these rapids, and lifted or drew the canoes up by
their gunwales. We ascended slowly and with toil. At the computed
distance of forty-five miles, we entered a very handsome sheet of water,
lying transverse to our course, which the Indians called Pamidjegumag,
which means crosswater, and which the French call _Lac Traverse_. It is
about twelve miles long from east to west, and five or six wide. It is
surrounded with hardwood forest, presenting a picturesque appearance.

We stopped a few moments to observe a rude idol on its shores; it
consisted of a granitic boulder, of an extraordinary shape, with some
rings and spots of paint, designed to give it a resemblance to a human
statue. We observed the passenger-pigeon and some small fresh-water
shells of the species of unios and anadontas.

A short channel, with a strong current, connects this lake with another
of less than a third of its dimensions, to which I gave the name of
Washington Irving. Not more than three or four miles above the latter,
the Mississippi exhibits the junction of its ultimate forks. The right
hand, or Itasca branch, was represented as by far the longest, the most
circuitous, and most difficult of ascent. It brings down much the
largest volume of water. I availed myself of the geographical knowledge
of my Indian guide by taking the left hand, or what I had occasion soon
to call the Plantagenian branch. It expanded, in the course of a few
miles, into a lake, which I called Marquette, and, a little further,
into another, which I named La Salle. About four miles above the latter,
we entered into a more considerable sheet of water, which I named
Plantagenet, being the site of an old India