ve of our expedition, the
grand objective towards which we bent all our energies. To stand at the
_source_; to look upon the remotest rills and springs which contribute
to the birth of the Great River of North America, to write 'Finis' in
the volume opened by the renowned De Soto more than three hundred years
ago, and in which Marquette, La Salle, Hennepin, La Hontan, Carver,
Pike, Beltrami, Schoolcraft and Nicollet have successively inscribed
their names, were quite enough to revive the drooping spirits of the
most depressed.

"During our encampment on the island Chenowagesic again reminded me that
he had planted corn there many years before, and that his wigwam once
stood near the spot where we had pitched our tents. He also repeated
what he had told me before launching the canoes at Leech Lake that the
region about Lake Itasca was his hunting-ground, and that he was
thoroughly acquainted with all the rivers, lakes and ponds within a
hundred miles. He further said that Paul Beaulieu was in error
concerning the source of the Great River, and led me to conclude that
the primal reservoir was above and beyond Itasca, and that this lake was
simply an expansion of the Mississippi, as are Bemidji, Cass,
Winnibegoshish and several others.

"Fully convinced that the statements of Chenowagesic were entirely
trustworthy, and knowing from past experience that he was perfectly
reliable as a guide, we put our canoes into the water at eight o'clock,
and at once began the work of coasting Itasca for its feeders. We found
the outlets of six small streams, two having well-defined mouths, and
four filtering into the lake through bogs. The upper end of the
southwestern arm is heavily margined with rushes and swamp grass, and it
was not without considerable difficulty that we forced our way through
this natural barrier into the larger of the two open streams which flow
into this end of the lake.

"Although perfectly familiar with the topography of the country, and
entirely confident that he could lead us to the beautiful lake which he
had so often described, Chenowagesic was for some moments greatly
disturbed by the network of rushes in which we found ourselves
temporarily entangled. Leaping from his canoe he pushed the rushes right
and left with his paddle, and soon, to our great delight, threw up his
hands and gave a characteristic Chippewa yell, thereby signifying that
he had found the object of his search. Returning, he seized the