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THE
LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF
CAPT. STEPHEN B. HANKS,
FIRST TRIP INTO
THE LOGGING REGIONS
June 11, 1921
St. Croix Falls was only a little village
containing chiefly the employees of the company operating the
mill located there and was on the east side of the river. Not
long after we reached there a boat came up bringing supplies
for winter use. The night after she arrived the men generally
got on a big drunk. They threatened to roll rocks down from
the top of the rocky hills on the boat and destroy her, which
could have been easily done, unless they were given more
drink. Having been given some and refused more they became
ugly and made severe threats but finally compromised on “one
more drink.” They finally lined up and as soon as the first
one was served he fell in behind and an endless chain was
started which soon exhausted the stock on the boat. This was
another object lesson to me and strengthened the aversion I
have always had to the drink habit.
The warehouse was in a pocket blasted
out of the bank, or cliff, and teams could not get down to the
front of it. A tramway or inclined railway, was constructed
reaching from the lower to the higher ground and was some one
hundred and fifty feet long with a rise of about twenty-five
feet and on this a small truck or ear was used to carry the
goods up and down.
The river at this point is known as the
“Dallas of the St. Croix” and is very picturesque and
beautiful. The fall in the river, a little above, is known as
Taylor’s Falls from a man of that name who took a claim
adjoining. It is one of the most remarkable sections of the
country and I would like to describe it, but that is not in my
line. The power of the water is immense and high motion is
everywhere evident. Take for example the wells in the solid
rock which have been ground out large and deep by a hard
boulder being forced around and around by the rapid motion of
the water. This section is now (1905) and has been for some
years a park and is under the jurisdiction jointly of the
states of Minnesota and Wisconsin. I was there recently and
recognized many places where I had been when a boy sixty-five
years ago that were of very great interest to me and are now.
In the Dalles are perpendicular rocks on both sides of the
river, some of them two hundred feet high. On the Wisconsin
side near the upper end a rift in the bluff, that looks as
though it might once have been a water course contains a great
mass of stones from one ten or fifteen tons in weight looking
as though dumped therein for some special purpose. Near by is
a beautiful little lake full of fine fish, where at one time
the company had a mill. Not withstanding the great water
power here there are practically no industries, a small woolen
mill and a grist mill being the only ones in evidence.
Communication with the outer world is no longer by river only,
but by two lines of railroad and a fine bridge spans the river
between the now two prosperous cities of Taylor’s Falls,
Minn., and St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin, both being connected
with well built roads leading in all directions through
prosperous agricultural communities. Above Taylor’s Falls
there is Tuttle’s Falls and farther up Big Falls and still
above a series of rapids some five miles in length. All
there, we understand, are now in the hands of a Power
Development Company, with sufficient land on each side of the
river, and ere long the entire resources of the St. Croix will
be furnishing electricity for power and lights to industries
in its valley as well as many outside of its confines.*
We remained at the falls ten days or
two weeks during which time most of the teams and supplies
were started into the woods. When we left we had one team and
two batteaux,, long rakish and peculiarly shaped boats sharp
and standing high out of the water on each end, and about half
a dozen men. The batteaux were loaded with such supplies as
we still needed. We were to follow along the bank of the
river with the team so that we could be together every night
as our camp outfit was in the bateaux. These boats were
polled along, except in deep water, and when we came to falls
or rapids they were drawn up through the sift water by ropes,
three men warping up with the line and one man in the bow of
one boat and another in the stern of the other one to keep
them off the banks and thus we worked our way along and made
about twelve miles the first day. Just before we went into
camp and while going along under a bluff somewhat higher than
our heads a large deer sprang over us and into the water
closely followed by a big wolf. The wolf sneaked away and we
gave chase to the deer with one of the boats and succeeded in
catching him by the tail. By lifting up his hind quarters his
head was put under water and he was drowned before I knew it,
and we had fresh meat for the trip. The offal, however,
thoughtlessly thrown out not far from our camp, brought the
wolves around that night and it seemed as though they would
eat us up. One team was very much alarmed, but no harm came
to us. The second night we reached the place of an Indian
trader named Connor, a Prussian by birth, who had a squaw wife
and a half dozen or so half breed children, some of them very
nice looking. The next evening we reached the mouth of Snake
river, some sixty-five or seventy miles by river from St.
Croix Falls. Here we met John Morgan, our cook, who was
expecting us and had a delicious stew of red squirrels. There
was a warehouse here and we spent the night in it.
From this point we had to make a
portage to the outlet of Cross lake, into what was called
lower Snake river. This meant the unloading of all our stuff
and hauling it and the boats the entire distance, as the river
is too rapid, from Cross lake to its mouth for navigation, the
fall being some fifty feet.
It took us anyhow two days to make the
portage. Cross lake was some twelve miles in length, north
and south, and a mile or so in width. The outlet of the lake
is near the middle on the east side and the upper reach of the
Snake river empties into the lake nearly opposite the outlet
so that the river practically crosses the lake, hence the
name. On our arrival at the outlet of the lake we took to the
water once more with our boats and their loads were not again
disturbed until we arrived at camp.
A short distance up Snake river from
Cross lake the river is joined by a snail stream the Indians
called Poke---- which a little north, I enlarged into a lake
some five mile long and a mile or so wide, of the same name.
About half a mile above the lake and on the same stream our
camp was located and we arrived there about a week after we
left St. Croix Falls. At the lower end of Pokegenna Lake was
an Indian Mission and just above the – there was an Indian
farm that later on was of great value to us in that it
furnished us with maple sugar, potatoes and some other much
needed articles. |
