266 



RECREATION. 



point, however, the Hurons and Chippe- 

 was had, through reports brought in by 

 their scouts, divined the intention of the 

 Osakis. Nearly a thousand braves, hide- 

 ous in their war paint, decorated with their 

 brightest feathers and armed with toma- 

 hawks, bows and all the trappings of In- 

 dian warfare, started up the Au Sable in 

 canoes to catch the fleeing Osakis or meet 

 them on their return down the river in 

 case they should attempt to retrace their 

 journey. 



The progress of the Osakis up the swift 

 current of the river was necessarily slow. 

 Their canoes were loaded nearly to the 

 gunwales with provisions and equipment 

 necessary to their long and uncertain voy- 

 age, as well as with the children, the 

 aged, the infirm and other non-combatants. 

 As a result, the runners of the enemy sent 

 out to intercept the Osakis began to ap- 

 pear, in war paint, between the 2 rivers of 

 the Osakis' intended route, some days be- 

 fore the main body of the Osakis reached 

 the proposed portage. Fearful of the gath- 

 ering numbers of the enemy congregating 

 along the upper open waters of the Manis- 

 tee the Osakis abandoned their original 

 plan and determined, if possible, to reach 

 what is now known as the Jordan river, 

 and to go down that stream and through 

 Pine lake to Lake Michigan, through the 

 outlet, at what is now Charlevoix. 



Following up the Au Sable as far as 

 possible the Osakis made the long carry 

 across to the Jordan, and thence down that 

 stream nearly to Pine lake without mishap 

 of any kind, but as they neared Pine lake 

 they were filled with consternation by the 

 report of their advance scouts that the Ot- 

 tawas were gathering in a mighty con- 

 clave at the mouth of the lake, and that no 

 canoe could ever pass there without dis- 

 covery. 



The cause of this great gathering of the 

 Ottawas was to the Osakis unknown, but 

 it seems the Ottawas had discovered the 

 Hurons and Chippewas invading their ter- 

 ritory in pursuit of the fleeing Osakis and 

 had called a council of war to be held at 

 the foot of Pine lake, to meet the invaders 

 and punish them for their audacity in tres- 

 passing on the hunting grounds of the 

 mighty Ottawas. 



The Osakis, on learning of the Ottawa 

 gathering, became well-nigh disheartened, 

 surrounded as they were by the Ottawas 

 on the North and the oncoming Hurons 

 and Chippewas on the East, They had 

 learned, however, that but a few miles 

 West of their position was another body of 

 water, flowing Southwest toward the great 

 lake they were so anxiously striving to 

 reach. If that waterway was not guarded 

 there was still hope. 



Abandoning ail but absolute necessities, 

 they carried those and their canoes across 



the 4-mile strip that divides the South arm 

 of Pine lake from the headwaters of the 

 Intermediate chain and again found them- 

 selves, with new hopes, skimming over blue 

 waters, with bending paddles making merry 

 ripples at the prow of each birchen boat. 

 Their course, after carrying them a few 

 miles North and in the direction of the 

 dread Ottawas, made a bend to the left and, 

 curving itself into a great ox bow, flowed 

 Southwest to the Michigame. Through the 

 ponds and streams of the Intermediate 

 chain passed their silent fleet. As they 

 came out of the narrow current of Clam 

 river on to the waters of Torch lake they 

 saw before them a view which well might 

 rival, in an Indian's eye, the scenes which 

 burst on the vision of the wandering Peri 

 as he gazed in awe and rapture through the 

 opened doors of Paradise. 



Torch Lake! The Indian knew you not by such a 



name, 

 Nor by it can beauties such as thine be told or 



guessed. 

 Torch lake! What mortal tongue dared christen 



you, 

 The child of perfect Nature, with all the charms 



she gives, 

 Blended into one matchless whole? 

 Your waters, green as new-cut emerald; your 



shores, 

 Not ribbed with cruel rocks nor soiled by stagnant 



swamps, 

 But snow white drift of sand which Nature gath- 

 ered from 

 Her treasure depths and sifted with careful hand, 

 That she might make a bed for her bright child 



befitting 

 Its rare beauty! 



Was that plain name suggested by some wanton 

 fisher's light 



That gleamed across your waters through the 

 starless night ? 



Or was it when you caught the morning dawn 



And flashed against the Eastern sky in colors 

 that subdued old Sol 



And made him pause to show his face in rivalry 

 of beauty 



Such as yours? 



Or was it as he left you for the night and turned, 



As I have often seen him do, to give you one 

 more long-drawn kiss, 



Which made you blush like new-born woman- 

 hood 



Beneath the gaze of ardent wooer? 



Yet again, was it when thunders pealed, and the 



wild wind 

 Whipped your waters into seething foam, 

 While the lightning's flash, caught on the crest 



of your unnumbered waves, glittered like 



torches showing them the way ? 

 Was it on some perfect day, when, lying placid, 



you have 

 Been a torch to some poor saddened heart, to 



lead it forth 

 From dark despondency to thoughts of things 



beyond this cruel world, 

 And taught it that the power which set you 

 Like a gem in Nature's coronal, can bring all 



things to pass 

 And change the darkest day to hours of perfect 



bliss? 



With its 18 miles of length, 2 to 3 miles 

 of width and 100 to 300 feet depth of 

 pure spring water, its beach of pure sand, 

 its hills, lying back but a short distance 

 from the shore on either side. Torch lake 

 is certainly the most beautiful sheet of 



