Perea e USL OF Nee Usb iy Ee lelN ul 
National Forest, new in that it was proclaimed a government forest very 
recently, but old in its colorful history. Does the name Tecumseh strike a 
familiar chord in your recollections of American history? It was in this 
region that this valiant Shawnee chief worked among the Indians, attempt- 
ing to unite the tribes of the territory into one great Indian nation, and 
through it to restrict all further encroachments of the white man. He was 
a man of remarkable eloquence and powers of leadership, but while he was 
absent from the area Governor William Henry Harrison defeated his 
Indians and destroyed his model Indian town at the Battle of Tippecanoe, 
1811. This great loss broke the Shawnee ranks, and the survivors fled 
westward, scattered remnants living today in Oklahoma. This mighty 
forest, named after them, is a living memorial to the power and dominance 
which once were the heritage of the Shawnee. The vegetation of the region 
is much like other Illinois mesophytic forests, the chief trees being white 
oaks, sugar and red maple, American and slippery elm, papaw, black cherry, 
sassafras and linden. Red-eyed vireos, crested flycatchers, yellow-billed 
cuckoos, tufted titmice, downy woodpeckers and cardinals make their pres- 
ence known in the forest interior. 
Imagine rounding a bend in the road in northern Tennessee and seeing 
before you a large lake, dotted with stumps of tall trees! Undoubtedly a 
series of puzzling questions would flash into mind immediately. Where did 
those trees come from? How do they happen to be standing in water, much 
of it deep? These were the things I asked myself the first time I laid eyes 
on Reelfoot Lake, Tennessee, and I lost no time in finding the answers. An 
interesting version is furnished in an old legend which says that a wise 
Indian chief once ruled his people at Reelfoot, but the chief’s heart was 
heavy because his only son was born with a deformed foot. The boy 
developed normally except for his gait in walking and running which gave 
him a rolling motion — his people called him Kalopin, meaning “‘reelfoot.” 
Reelfoot loved a maiden of a southern tribe but was told by the girl’s father 
that she could not marry a deformed chief. If he carried her off, the Great 
Spirit would cause the earth to rock and bury his village. Reelfoot dreamed 
of the maiden and wondered if the Great Spirit would do as he said. Finally 
he could restrain himself no longer; he captured his bride and carried her 
home to his village. Great festivities followed, and in the midst of the rites, 
the earth began to reel and rock and crack open, swallowing the tribe com- 
pletely, and covering the site with water. 
The legend has an authentic background, for Reelfoot actually is an 
earthquake lake. The series of severe quakes which formed it occurred in 
1811-12. During this time the land sank from eight to twenty-five feet, 
making a depression that was filled by the waters of the Mississippi River. 
Today the stumps of what was once a dense forest stud the lake, furnishing 
perching posts for countless numbers of American egrets, anhingas, double- 
crested cormorants, and herons, which feed on the fish, frogs and other 
aquatic life. During two hours’ time, I counted one hundred American 
egrets standing in shallow water or on stumps, their shining white plumage 
and yellow bills strikingly beautiful against a background of blue water and 
green cypress on the far shore. 
