bow of
my canoe, and pulled it after him through the rushes out into the clear,
glistening waters of the infant Mississippi, which, at the point of
entering Itasca, is seven feet wide, and from twelve to fifteen inches
deep.

"Lusty work with our paddles for half an hour brought us to a blockade
of fallen timber. Determined to float in my canoe upon the surface of
the lake towards which we were paddling, I directed the guides to remove
the obstructions, and continue to urge the canoes rapidly forward,
although opposed by a strong and constantly increasing current.
Sometimes we found it necessary to lift the canoes over logs, and
occasionally to remove diminutive sand-bars from the bed of the stream
with our paddles. As we neared the head of this primal section of the
mighty river, we could readily touch both shores with our hands at the
same time, while the average depth of water in the channel did not
exceed ten inches.

"Every paddle-stroke seemed to increase the ardor with which we were
carried forward. The desire to see the actual source of a river so
celebrated as the Mississippi, whose mouth had been reached nearly two
centuries before, was doubtless the impelling motive. In their eagerness
to obtain a first view of the beautiful lake toward which we were
paddling, and greatly annoyed by the slow progress made in the canoes,
my brother and Paine stepped ashore and proposed a race to the crest of
the hill which Chenowagesic told them overhung the lake. To this
proposition of my companions I made objection and insisted that all
should see the goal of our expedition from the canoes. What had long
been sought at last appeared suddenly. On pulling and pushing our way
through a network of rushes similar to the one encountered on leaving
Itasca, the cheering sight of a transparent body of water burst upon our
view. It was a beautiful lake--the source of the 'Father of Waters.'

[Illustration: Lake Glazier--source Of The Mississippi.
Discovered By Captain Glazier, July 22, 1881.]

"A few moments later and our little flotilla of three canoes was put in
motion, headed for a small promontory which we discerned at the opposite
end of the lake. We paddled slowly across one of the purest and most
tranquil sheets of water we had encountered in our voyage. Not a breath
of air was stirring. We halted frequently to scan its shores, and to run
our eyes along the verdure-covered hills which enclose its basin. These
elevations ar