218 FACE OF THE COUNTRY IN MICHIGAN. 



Niles is a small place on the river St Josephs, and said to 

 be twelve or fourteen miles from Lake Michigan. In our 

 route from Detroit, we had passed through the territory of 

 Michigan, in a south-westerly direction, crossing most of the 

 rivers, near their source, which flow into Lakes Erie and Mi 

 chigan ; and I experienced considerable disappointment at the 

 general aspect of the country, which, with the exception of 

 about twenty-five miles next to Detroit, was found to consist 

 of oak openings. The soil is chiefly sand, and exhibits few 

 marks of fertility. The trees are stunted oaks, of about thirty 

 feet in height, and so thinly scattered, that a man may fre 

 quently clear an acre in a day. The surface is gently undu 

 lating, and, from the thinness of the trees, and frequency of 

 streams, lakes, and prairies, highly picturesque. The lakes 

 sometimes assume the character of marshes, and many of them 

 contained small eminences, or islands, covered thickly with 

 trees of a diiferent species from those growing on another, at a 

 few yards distant, or on the margin of the marsh. The district 

 is still very thinly settled ; and in passing along, I wondered 

 what had become of all the people who of late years have been 

 pouring into Michigan from the eastern states, forgetting the 

 extent of territory, and that it has become the common route 

 for settlers moving to the fertile and extensive tracts lying to 

 the south and west of Lake Michigan. The houses, with the 

 exception of those in villages, are mere log-huts. 



We breakfasted at White Pigeon, on the third morning of 

 our journey, at a well-regulated hotel, where some broiled 

 ruffed grouse, called, in the language of the country, prairie- 

 hen, was presented at table, and in praise of which, some of 

 our taciturn fellow-passengers became loquacious. The par 

 ticulars of the discussion may have been highly valuable, but 

 I was too busily employed in displaying my opinions by ac 

 tions, to note down the conversation. 



White Pigeon is a small pretty village, composed of well- 

 painted frame-houses, and in neatness and apparent comfort 

 resembling some of the residences in New England. It is 

 situated on the skirts of White Pigeon prairie, one of the most 

 beautiful and fertile prairies in Michigan, and to which, perhaps, 

 the whole territory is indebted for much of its celebrity. 



