22 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. 9, 1904- 
'mm ToiM§T 
Floating Down the Mississippi. 
rV. — Coccefciog a River 'Watthoose. 
One does not go far down the Great River from 
St. Louis, even in a skiff that demands attention, before 
the mere names of places on the map bring to mind 
those old days when Europe was wondering what to do 
with various portions of the American Continent— al- 
most, but not quite undreaming that the conditions 
would be exactly reversed after a while. I came down 
along the west side of the river, because most of the 
wind storms throw their waves on the east shore, it 
was said, besides the husky bluffs are better company 
for a man than flapping, wind-tossed willows — my eyes 
not very seeing, if open. 
I didn't pay much attention to where I was going, but 
after passing Brickey's Mill dropped down a chute 
behind an island looking for a place to land and camp, 
but there was too much mud, and I ran into what I 
thought was a red clay slough, at the head of which 
there was hissing and pumping, due to Government 
works, as I guessed, not energetically. I tied my skiff 
to a willow tree, stretched my hammock in the boat 
after a bite of grub, and went to sleep — if I hadn't been 
all the while. The wind was blowing next morning 
(Oct. 6, Tuesday), but I pulled out and went on down 
the chutes till I was in the main stream again, hugging 
the bluffs of necessity, for the wind was severe. A few 
miles below were the real Government works, and I 
learned there that I had been behind Bruce's Island, 
and likely enough within sixty rods of Horace Kep- 
hart's camp, of which I had heard at St. Louis. Right 
opposite and two miles from the yon side of the river, 
is what is left of Fort Chartres, which Major Pierre 
Dugue Boisbriant and 100 men built in 1720. I passed 
the real Government Works (Little Rock Landing), 
talking the while to the engineer of pile driver No. 
13, and followed the bank into a chute and soon ar- 
rived at St. Genevieve, of pretty name and interesting 
history. 
It may shock the reader to know it, but about all I 
got there was some potted ham. for one afloat in nar- 
row quarters needs something on which to make a 
noonday lunch, in order not to be obliged to stop and 
cook. The storekeeper, however, was a little man, just 
reveling in prosperity — just bursting with joy and rub- 
bing his hands. "Now what else can I do for the gen- 
tleman?" he asked. "No? But you will come again? 
So? A stranjar? It is so — from the rivare? Ah— 
but you may come some day, and if you do, come in 
and see us. Good day, sir" — ^joyous, polite, although 
his tribe was almost exterminated. 
An individual of impolite appearance — muddv clothes, 
unshaven face and tattered,, said there is lots of money 
in St. Genevieve these days. "You see the railroad 
folks pays whenever you wants it, and cash, so every 
one has money." St. Genevieve has become a railroad 
town, with new buildings and bad whiskey, and enter- 
prise and other things, therefore it isn't a pleasant 
place for dreamers and poets to go to. but that little 
old man with the dry face, its very polite, prosperous 
smile, and that tall girl in black in the bakery across 
the street, with oval face, colorless, of slow motion 
and redeeming eyes — whatever it may be now, St. 
Genevieve is certainly a place with a past that appeals, 
and so of all the French settlements in the valley. 
By the time I was at the foot of the St. Genevieve 
slough, the wind was too strong for me to venture on 
to the river, therefore I tied to a willow till riearly s-un- 
down, when I crossed to the opposite, side in spite of 
the waves that were still running, and in a bayou of 
Moro Island v/ent to sleep in my boat for the night. 
Once I was awakened by the patter of rain drops on 
the painted canvas overhead, but soon slept again. 
After daybreak on the following morning, I came to 
my senses with a start. My canvas hammock was sag- 
ging in water three inches deep — the rain had come 
down in the uncovered bow and flooding aft, wet 
through the heavy canvas to all my bedding and 
clothes, more or less. With the sponge, recommended 
by Mr. Kephart, I bailed the boat, and then when the 
sun came out went down the bayou a few rods, rigged 
a clothes line and dried everything in the wind and sun. 
It was two o'clock or later when I started on, and 
so lovely .was the day that I left my boat to its own 
speed mostly, and ran down into Kaskaskia Bend — the 
one of to-day, not of the steamboat days. Here were 
wide sand bars, with warning ripples indicating shal- 
low water; the caving banks were far to the southwest 
and i northeast. Everything was far away, except a 
flock of wild geese, that were surprised when my boat 
shot out from behind an insignificant bank of caving 
sand. They walked sideways for a rod, then turned 
squar.e away on the run, and up. they went and off to- 
ward the sun, now unaccouiltably near the horizori. 
Everything was stiir far away. Just as a chill breath 
from the coming night struck me, I seized the oars and 
pulled for the bank on the Illinoig sider hoping for a 
sheltered place to sleep, I saw the mouth of a slough, 
fjut to reach it Wfis t<>& hard a im% so I wesi^ 
while the sun touched, then dipped below the horizon, 
leaving a blaze of orange in the sky and along the 
water. But this faded rapidly. As far as I could see 
on both sides were caving banks, save on my left, 
where were dense willows and no inlet or outlet. A 
steamer came to the landing ahead, her lights a-flaring, 
and when she pulled out I went in — it was Men- 
ard's, just above Fort Gage, and looking out upon the 
site of Kaskaskia — "Old Kaskaskia," where now the 
Mississippi flows unresisted. The old town is gone, 
and I thought not worth stopping at— would not have 
save the suddenness of the sunset. As it was, Pierre 
Menard said I might find a place to stay, aiid old Jack 
Stevenson helped me carry my stuff up the bank to the 
warehouse — without a doubt the most interesting ware- 
house on the river. 
A warehouse is a ramshackle building built on the 
bank of the river for the temporary shelter of goods 
landed from steamers. It may stand for years on the 
verge of destruction from floods, and is expected to 
go soon, but whether it stands years or days, it is 
still on the verge. Most of them are mere sheds roofed 
over, but some towns, boasting a paved levee landing, 
have, pretensious, painted affairs, with dapper steam- 
boat agents presiding. Menard's has two rooms that 
will lock, and a shed open to the winds, all in a row. 
The two rooms and their contents make the place in- 
teresting beyond any that can be found on the river. 
There have been three Pierre Menards, the original 
having come from the Province of Quebec to "Post 
Vinsenne" with a letter of introduction to the famous 
merchant Vigo, and rose to so important position as 
that of the first lieutenant-governor of Illinois. It 
was this man's grandson I met at the landing — and 
whose treasures are stored chiefly in the warehouse, 
but many of which have gone to the library of the 
Chicago Historical Society. 
There were seven or eight boxes full of papers and 
documents dating back to the years of the last cen- 
tury but one; the school books of the Ursuline Nun 
Convent of Old Kaskaskia; a few dusty bureaus and 
other furniture brought from France when Kaskaskia 
was young and gay — especially gay; some flint-lock 
pistols, with labels put on them by the Chicago World's 
Fair authorities; saddle bags, steel traps, barrels, old 
iron chests, boxes, old stone seals. Almost the first 
thing I saw was: 
Excha., 1452 Dollrs. Kaskaskia, 30th Jany., 1779. 
Sire At Thirty Days sight of this my first Exchange second 
of same Tenor and Date not paid. Pay to M. Vigo or his Order 
the Sum of One Thousand four Hundred and_ Fifty-two Dollars 
for sundry furnishings to the otate of Virginia and charge the 
same as per former advise from — 
Sire, • 
Your very old and Hum- 
Servant, 
Ge. Clark. 
To Oliver Pollock, Esq., 
New Orleans. 
And to this was added another document dated Dec. 
24, 1834, signed Pierre Menard, reading: 
Inclose yoiis have a Draft favor of M. Vigo for $1452 to plaise 
in Caise I shotild not overtake you to presint to proper office 
for approval. 
More than fifty years after Clark had captured Kas- 
kaskia and the northwest territory, an effort was still 
being made to collect on a note, by which Clark was 
helped to clinch his hold on that land, and this note 
may now be seen by the curious in a warehouse at a 
Mississippi River landing. It is only just to say that 
"it couldn't be found when the society was looking for 
documents here," else it had long since been framed 
and removed far from the diary of Trapper Davis, 
where it now rests,, if .it hasn't fallen out, keeping com- 
pany with a note and photograph that the present 
Pierre picked up in a bottle in June, 1902. This note 
reads: 
Centralia, Illinois, Jan. 28, 1902. 
The Finder of this bottle and letter will please write me a 
letter if convenient. 
I am a young lady, 18 years and a half old, 5% feet high, weigh 
130 pounds: am. fair skinned and have dark curly hair and some 
means. 
Enclosed find my latest picture. I would like to correspond 
with the finder if a yoitng gentleman of some means. 
Yours Resp. 
Minnie M. Duncan. 
This at Kaskaskia! But, as said, the old town is 
gone. In 1844 the great flood began the .destruction of 
the place. Then came 185 1 and 1857, each with phe- 
nomenal high water. Finally, in 1882, the Mississippi 
discovered that the bed of the Kaskaskia was lower 
than its own and came across to it bodily — clear to the 
bluffs on the Illinois side. Kaskaskia, right in the way, 
was finally swept out of existence. 
A new Kaskaskia is there, but I did not see it. The 
Kaskaskia River is goiie — they call it Okaw now, and 
this was the "slough" I saw when out among the sand 
bars with the geese. 
Kaskaskia became a parish in 1721— was the center 
of power and fashion in the upper valley for a hun- 
dred years. St. Genevieve was established in 1755. The 
floods swept one out of existence and a railroad the 
other, , 
The mmh for collectmi somethm| se^tns li^y^ 
afflicted most individuals of the human race. With 
some it shows itself to be a rational, sedate practice 
of securing and holding "uncut editions." Any one can 
appreciate the joy felt by a collector in a book which 
no one has ever read, and never can read without de- 
tracting from its value in his own and other similar 
collectors' eyes. But why the various Pierre Menards 
should have kept newspapers which had been read and 
might be read again, and no one know the difference, 
is a question. The fact remains that there are some 
hundreds of pounds of accessible facts in that old ware- 
house, but which are not to be removed in bulk simply 
because Pierre III. enjoys collecting them himself — in 
a haphazard sort of way. The hunter there is likely 
to flush game of startling varieties, and if he has the 
proper sporting blood will bring away trophies ac- 
cording with his nature and mania for collecting. 
Of course each collector thinks that his particular 
hobby is better than another's. He who shoots game 
and mounts heads for his dining-room and covers his 
floors with peltry, may well say that these are the 
height of interest, for each thing in it is a story of skill 
in woodcraft or of nature, well worth telling always. 
I am quite certain that these people will sympathize 
with me, even if my trophies are stored away in note 
books, and were found in such places as the thickets 
of a warehouse. It seems to me that Thoreau was 
the prince of sportsmen, for he could stand without 
his neighbor's preserve, and, harming no man's feel- 
ings, bring down a vast collection of trophies, useful 
to this day to every man who loves the trees, the 
flowers common in nature and wonders of the wayside. 
He saw at first hand and gathered where no other man 
had seen before — a pioneer. 
About the most interesting things to me in the 
Menard landing warehouse, were some old store ac- 
count books. Pierre I. was a storekeeper, and a few- 
extracts from one of the Kaskaskia store books com- 
pared to some steamer freight bills of seventy years 
later concerning the shipments from this warehouse, 
will tell a story of its own. 
On April 18 twenty-five cents was "paid Indian for 
venison," on the 20th "Paid Seneca for 17 Raccons — 
$4.00," "Paid Gen. Harrison i (raccoon) — & 5 Rabets 
. .50." This was not the Tippecanoe Harrison who be- 
came President of the United States later, but a nephew 
of his, who came to Kaskaskia to look up a tract of 
land which William Henry Harrison had given .him, 
as a letter in the warehouse by the latter of 1833 shows. 
"Bees wax to Merchdze — Paid for 14 lbs to Absolon 
Cox @ 25. .$3.50." "i Deer skin. . .$1.00." "Beef Hides 
to Merchdz — paid for i Hide 19^. .@ 10. .$1.95." "Paid 
John Dowling for one Keg of Pitch del'd to Jannet 
Menard at the Mth. of White River. .$2.00." "Menard 
& Valle, Paid a Seneca woman for shaving skins.. @ 
10. .$17.50; Ditto an other woman for shaving 60 skins 
. .@ 10. .6.00. Ditto 57 skins to an other. .10 5.70." 
April 25. "Menard & Valle to peltry" — some trap- 
per's account: 
186 shaved skins, 3321bs., @ 30 99.60 
125 Raccoons, 1st quality, 25 31.25 
3 wild cats, 1st quality 25 75 
12 raccoons, 2d quality, 16 2-3 2.00 
9 raccoons, 3d quality 12i^ 1.12^ - 
2 otter skins, 2.50 5.00 
. 2 Muskrats and 1 mink, .25 75 
1 Fox inferior, 16 2-3 
4 Prime Bear, 2.00 ..8.00 
3 Prime cubs, 1.00 3.00 
$151.64 
It is plain from this that the spring exports from 
that store were furs, beeswax, pitch for boats, dressed 
deer skins. But my collection of facts is imperfect as 
regards the fall trade. I did not take details about the 
corn, wheat, salted and smoked meats that probably 
made up the bulk of the fall products of the locality. 
Nor can I say that steamers, and not barges, or keel 
boats, carried the most of the freight for this store at 
that time — sad omissions for my collection! But it is 
recorded that Old Pierre Menard though the first 
steamer he saw going up the Mississippi was a saw- 
mill, although he had been lieutenant-governor of the 
State and was a subscriber of the Washington Intelli- 
gencer at this time — as the papers show. 
If I had feome old steamboat bills of lading, they 
would be better for comparison with receipts, some of 
which I have, that were given by the steamers at East 
Kaskaskia Landing— Menard's of to-day. 
On April 25, 1893, the steamer Belle Memphis took 
on at this landing three cases of eggs, i tub of butter, 
I sack of fur — ^^shade of the past! and 3 calves. One 
gathers that the steamer trade is riovv wool, chix 
(chickens), scrap iron, eggs, hogs, sheep, money pack-- 
ages, "said to contain"-^ducks, household goods--- 
some people were moving away— horned cattle, green, 
hides, wheat (in June this begins), whiskey, potatoes— 
that's about all, from Menard's. But across "l calf" 
is written in blue, "Dead or alive. Excpt." This oc 
eurs in regard to several calves bound to commission 
merchants in various places. Being a land where re- 
wards are offered for desperadoes "dead of alive," it 
is a startUng^^ntry. pe»4'^or pve, and'of -"*pal're^ 
