Read Motor Matt's Red Flyer; or, On the High Gear Page 22

  REELFOOT LAKE.

  The physical history of Reelfoot Lake, of night-rider fame, is notwithout a certain interest of its own. The lake came into existence asthe result of a series of earthquakes, which began in December, 1811,and continued until June, 1812.

  Some authorities say that the earthquakes merely heaved up a greatridge of land across the path of the Reelfoot River, which runsinto the Mississippi, and that this dam caused the water to back upand broaden out and form a lake; but the favorite account in theneighborhood is to the effect that the ground sank, springs were openedup, neighboring creeks diverted from their course, and the overflowingwater of the Mississippi rushed in during the flood season of thespring of 1812.

  It is said that for an hour and a half the waters of the Mississippiflowed up-hill while filling up the depression caused by theearthquakes. Both accounts likely have this much of truth in them thatthe entire configuration of the ground was changed by the earthquakes.Big Lake, west of the Mississippi, in Arkansas, is said to have beenformed in the same way at the same time.

  Reelfoot Lake is sixteen or eighteen miles long, very irregular inshape, and covers from 35,000 to 40,000 acres of land. It varies inwidth from a mile in some places to four or five miles in others.The northern end is extended by a series of sloughs and bayous intoKentucky.

  The most distinctive feature of the lake's appearance, the featurewhich first impresses and stays longest with the observer's fancy, is acertain grotesque effect, as if a set of crazy men had been operatinga pile-driver there for the last century, for the trunks, stumps, andstark branches of dead trees stick out of it everywhere in desolateparody of some such human handiwork; far below the surface the fishdart among the boles and branches where the squirrels frolicked ahundred years ago.

  There are beautiful spots here and there, but the effect, as awhole, is not beautiful; at its best, when the mist rises and myriadprotruding tree trunks are white and ghostly in the moonlight, it isweird; the general remembrance is of something uncouth. It is a kindof sloven lake that has preferred to sit down with its hair uncombedall day long, but at night it does manage to achieve a touch of wizarddignity.