DELLS OF SIOUX RIVER. Soon after reaching St. Paul our party divided, two of our photographers being instructed to take views of the falls, lakes and river-scenery thereabouts, while the other set out with the camera car, over the Chicago, St. Paul and Omaha Railroad, to Sioux City, and thence by the Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri Valley Railroad to Deadwood. There is nothing of particular interest to entertain the traveler in search of scenic wonders until Iowa is crossed and we reach the Big Sioux River; nor is the immediate district about Sioux City one affording scenery of much importance. But at Dell Rapids, something more than one hundred miles north, we come in contact with some surprises which are without example, save in the Wisconsin River, hereafter to be described. The town derives its name from the remarkable freaks of nature displayed along the river-banks, and known as the Dells, and which are recognized as the safety-valves of the immense water-power at Dell Rapids. This picturesque stretch of fantastic bluffs and eccentric stream is thus described by a writer who recently made the passage in a canoe from Dell Rapids to Sioux Falls. LOVER’S LEAP, DELLS OF THE SIOUX. THE DEVIL’S NOTCH, DELLS OF THE SIOUX. DANGER ROCK, DELLS OF THE SIOUX. “Beginning at a break in the Big Sioux River, on the south bank, opposite the town, at first the Dells present the appearance of a rivulet flowing out of the main body of water, taking a circuitous direction to re-unite with the parent stream some two and one-half miles further along its eccentric course. Yet only in the highest stages of its waters does the Sioux overflow the dam across the aperture between itself and the Dells, and it becomes instantly apparent that it is not from the river that this peculiar branch, which is not a branch, obtains its water supply. Investigation determines that the Dells are fed by invisible springs, indefinite in number and indefinable in volume, which maintain in the bed of this curious stream an average depth of about eleven feet, although a much greater depth is found in various places. As you progress along the banks of the Dells, you notice increasing accumulations of the well-known Big Sioux quartzite, in its dull red and leaden colors; the banks grow more and more precipitous; the rocks are heaped strata upon strata in immeasurable quantities, and take on fantastic shapes and unusual formations; the Dells deepen into a gorge, far down into the bottom of which the waters taking their hues SIGNAL ROCK, ELKHORN CAÑON.—The wild turbulence of nature that distinguishes the scenery in the Black Hills district of Dakota is handsomely represented in this photograph. In Elkhorn CaÑon the walls are some distance apart and only occasionally vertical, but there is rugged, tumultuous chaos in the caÑon that interposed great difficulties to the engineers who built the railroad through it. The bluff on the left of the picture rises to so great a height that from its summit Indians could signal, by means of fire, a distance of nearly one hundred miles, whence its name. CABINET GORGE, DELLS OF THE SIOUX RIVER. Turning back, we resumed our journey northward over the Elkhorn road, and passed through many miles of the most magnificent scenery to be found anywhere on the American Continent. The entire region is mountain infested, and to penetrate it by rail the road is compelled to follow the almost interminable sinuosities of creeks and broken valleys, with tunnels every few miles, and bridges quite as frequent. Through Fan-Tail Gulch the road winds in tortuous ways that sometimes draw grotesque figures, and in one place the road-bed is of the exact shape of a horseshoe, while on both sides of Elk Creek CaÑon there are butting and pinnacled walls that suggest ruins of gigantic cathedrals, or monuments in a graveyard of Titans. Everywhere we turn there is the carving and hieroglyphic writing of the glacier and the volcano that in some age wrestled with the rocks and left them in a confusion of whimsical forms. Particularly is this true of Elk Creek CaÑon, which presents many curious bluffs and isolated shafts of stone, worn into monoliths of oddity by wind and water. NEEDLE POINTS, NEAR HARNEY’S PEAK, BLACK HILLS.—These remarkable formations are prominent among the scenic wonders of the world, and if they were located in some older country and connected with legendary or historical incidents, would attract crowds of admiring tourists from the four quarters of the earth. These whimsical creations of the centuries, exhibiting as they do the severest contortions of nature, are remarkable, even to the point of being almost startling, but they are surrounded by, and are in the midst of, so many other tremendous upheavals, that they do not attract the attention which they deserve. CATHEDRAL ROCK, IN ELK CREEK CAÑON, BLACK HILLS. After passing Piedmont the region is less rugged and gradually falls away into a plain, dotted here and there with buttes of clay, some of them reaching a height of fifty feet, and in the distance resembling large buildings. Fort Meade and Bear Butte are on the right as we make a turn towards the west, then run south, until we enter Deadwood, which lies at the gnarled and bunioned feet of the Hills. We have scarcely been out of a caÑon since leaving Hot Springs, but at Deadwood the granite walls that have become so familiar slope away until they become hills of slate and red clay, which have been denuded of their vestures of pine to supply fuel for the reduction mills. Through one of the last rifts in the walls that confine the track of the railroad a glimpse of Central City is obtained, several miles away, and a few minutes later we roll into the great mining town that is celebrated for its wealth, energy, golden prospects, and as being the place where Wild Bill was killed, and Calamity Jane broke the biggest faro bank in the settlement. Though Deadwood is only sixteen years old, few cities have passed through so many terrible vicissitudes. In 1876 the gold prospectors in the Hills were harried by Indians; then when the district was purchased and active settlement began, gamblers and shady women flocked to the place, considering that every honest person was legitimate prey, until the vigilantes restored order. Building was rapid, so that three years after the miners staked their first claims in the Hills, Deadwood had become a place of 5,000 inhabitants and was rapidly flowering into a great city. Then a dreadful fire broke out, which ravaged and swept the town, leaving scarcely a house uninjured, and nearly every citizen homeless. The loss was estimated at $1,500,000, but in its effects the loss was probably twice that amount. But with that courageous energy which characterizes western settlements, the people went to work to rebuild before even the embers had turned to ashes, and by 1883, Deadwood was a second time showing a metropolitan bud. She had emerged from the crucible, but fate had resolved that she should be subjected to another ordeal. Accordingly, the elements gathered their forces all around upon the mountains and in the gulches. For weeks unprecedented snow-storms bombarded the country and covered it to an extraordinary depth. Then the windows of heaven were opened and the rain descended. Day and night a terrific down-pour continued, followed directly by a flood that struck the town from every direction, and with irresistible might washed nearly every building from its foundation, leaving even small opportunity for the unhappy people to escape to the hills. But though the town was twice destroyed, the citizens lost none of their pluck, and before the cruel waters were fully assuaged they resumed the work of building again on the same twice stricken site, and have so continued until Deadwood is fortified against calamity and is moving on at the head of the procession, with colors flying and drums beating, the capital city of a capital country. THE SUMMIT OF HARNEY’S PEAK, BLACK HILLS.—This famous and picturesque mountain peak derives its name from the gallant old hero, Gen. W. S. Harney, who won fame and glory in the battles of his country with Mexico and the red warriors of the West. It was principally through his firmness, bravery and wisdom, aided by the confidence which the Indians reposed in his integrity, that the hidden treasures and scenic wonders of the Black Hills were delivered up to the white people. It is said that the Indians who formerly occupied this region frequently exchanged gold nuggets and gold bullets for leaden ones of the same weight, so abundant was the yellow metal in some portions of their country—a statement, however, which lacks confirmation. VIEW OF BEAR BUTTE, AT A DISTANCE OF FORTY-SIX MILES FROM THE ROAD, IN FAN-TAIL GULCH. There are many interesting points within a few miles of Deadwood; for aside from the rugged character of the scenery, in the near vicinity are several of the largest wealth-producing mines in the world. The trip to Bald Mountain over the Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri Valley narrow-gauge Road is one filled with pleasure and surprise. The way is almost incomparably winding, and exhibits remarkable examples of engineering skill and enormous investment. In several places the grade is four hundred and thirty feet to the mile, while the curves are said to be of one hundred and fifty feet radius. Passing up such grades and around such sharp turns, it is not so surprising that the train should in one minute be running along lofty benches, apparently in mid-air, over dizzy trestles, and in the next few moments be scurrying through a valley so deep that sunlight rarely ever visits it. North of Bald Mountain, and reached by a stage-line, are Crow Peak, Round-Top Mountain, and the town of Spearfish. This latter place is located on a creek of the same name that goes tumbling through a deep caÑon with vertical, serrated walls, and diversified by roaring cascades and far-leaping waterfalls. Returning to Deadwood, we took the Burlington and Missouri River Railroad south through another long stretch of turbulent scenery, of rushing creeks, darksome gorges, under the shadows of lofty mountains, and by curious formations. Custer Peak is only two or three miles east of the road, and it is the center of a riotous region of broken stone, each one a very mountain of itself. Below, we strike Spring Creek, and go bowling along the valley cut out of the bills by that stream, until Harney’s Peak breaks into view, five miles to the east, and lifts its piney crest into the azure depths 8,000 feet. Hereabout are not only waterfalls, caÑons, creeks, and huge bowlders dashed down from frost-riven peaks, for besides gold and silver, the region is said to abound with tin, that peculiarly elusive mineral which, though often found, seems to always dematerialize after the campaign is over; and though millions have been spent in developing the tin mines near Harney, the product has not yet paid the expense of mining. Three miles south of the peak are the Needles, bold-jutting pinnacles of sandstone that stand high above the bed of Squaw Creek and point their fingers toward the sky. Buckhorn Mountain stands very near the west side of the road, and close to its base reposes the town of Custer, the center of a broken district called Custer Park, famous for its scenery of river, tumultuary and distorted rocks over which a weasel can hardly make its way. A little further south we enter Red CaÑon Creek, where the same general character of eroded and disrupted rocks continues, with occasional exhibitions of oddity exceeding those previously seen in the Hills. Evidently some terrific force has been at work in this uncanny region, for here and there our wonder is excited by extraordinary instances of displacement. Beecher Rocks are comicalities done in stone, but Wedge Rock must wear the garland as the most astounding example of natural tumult in this wonder-region, and which can be better understood by the accompanying illustration, than explained by the bare use of words. HARNEY’S PEAK, BLACK HILLS.—A general view of this famous mountain from the valley where this photograph was taken does not show the wonderful formations of the rocks on its summit and sides so well as closer special views do; but it is sufficiently picturesque to be entitled to a place in this representative work on American scenery. The picture, however, exhibits the extent and magnitude of the mountain, whose head is raised high above the timber line, in the region of perpetual snow. WEDGE ROCK, NEAR CUSTER CITY.—This immense rock, weighing thousands of tons, found a lodgment, where it is photographed, after a terrific plunging descent from near the top of the mountain, whence it was riven by some mighty convulsion. The path of its terrible fall is still discernible, in seams and abrasions on the face of the mountain, and in contemplating it one cannot refrain from regretting that he was not present to witness such an awe-inspiring and dreadful exhibition. It was a scene which might have frightened even the imperturbable gods of the hills. THE HORSESHOE IN ELK CREEK CAÑON. But the country is not only rugged and mountain-spurred; it possesses curiosities even greater beneath the surface than those which diversify the sun-kissed landscape over which we have just passed. On Elk Creek, and entered from the caÑon wall, is Keith’s Crystal Cave, a colossal rent in the mountain bowels, with passages fifteen miles in length. It is beautifully chambered, from which depend the most exquisite crystallizations in the form of stalactites and stalagmites that reflect the torchlight in glorious colors, dancing from column of onyx to pools of pellucid water. But a more remarkable cave than Keith’s is found a little way west of Custer, and twelve miles north of Hot Springs. This marvelous natural excavation is ramified by many passages which have been explored for a distance of sixty-five miles, and the end is not yet. On account of the peculiar respiration of the cave, the air at one time rushing in with great velocity and again being expelled with equal force, it is called the Wind Cave; and no better name can be bestowed, for the cause of this inrushing and regurgitation of air seems to be beyond ascertainment. Like its more northerly cousin, Wind Cave is chambered and adorned with beautiful crystals that shimmer under the glances of the torch and are set aflame with color, with here and there such graceful formations as to suggest studios of monster sculptors. BEECHER ROCKS, NEAR CUSTER CITY. A CHAMBER IN CRYSTAL CAVE, BLACK HILLS.—This wonderful subterraneous chamber is becoming more celebrated in many respects than the famous Mammoth Cave of Kentucky, beautifully photographed and described in later numbers of this work. Crystal Cave has been explored for a distance of sixty-five miles, and the end is not yet discovered. It has a marked peculiarity in its regular respiration or breathing, like a living thing; the air at stated intervals rushes in with great velocity, and is again expelled with equal force. Its chambers are halls of stalactitic splendors, almost rivaling those of the Luray Caverns. THE CHANCEL, CRYSTAL CAVE, BLACK HILLS. Continuing our way southward to the junction of the Wyoming Division, in Fall River county, we turned north on that small branch whose temporary terminus is Merino, at which point a team was engaged to take us to what is truly one of the seven wonders of the world. In our trip of several thousand miles through the mountainous regions of the great West, we had seen and photographed many extraordinary and startling prodigies of nature, so that all sentiment of awe, surprise and admiration had been aroused, but we were now to be confronted by a miracle in stone that confounded and mingled all feelings of wonderment and fascination into stupefaction of bewildered senses. DEVIL’S THUMB, CUSTER PARK, NEAR CUSTER CITY.—This grotesque formation is weird enough to be in fact the thumb, or the toe, or any other member of his Satanic majesty’s supposably ugly and immeasurably immense body. Suggestive of evil power as it may be, the Thumb is surrounded by other petrified imps of darkness, scarcely less uncanny and frightful in appearance, indicative of nature in her wildest mood. THE DEVIL’S CHAIR, ST. CROIX RIVER. We had to travel about twenty-five miles across a fairly level stretch of country before reaching the Belle Fourche River, a main branch of the Cheyenne, on the west bank of which is located this marvelous monument of the ages, which for its astounding size and unaccountable formation is called the Devil’s Tower. Among the Sioux Indians, who have always regarded it with superstitious dread, it is known as the Mateo’s Tepee, signifying the Bear’s Lodge, and was by them supposed to be the haunt of a were-animal, who possessed the power of becoming a bear or man at pleasure. The country within a radius of fifty miles is slightly broken by high table-lands, but there is nothing to indicate any special spasm of nature by which so great a freak might have been formed; yet out of this undulating expanse of landscape suddenly rises a stupendous obelisk of vitrified stone, to the amazing height of eight hundred feet. The base, which measures 326 feet at its longest diameter, is 400 feet above the river-bed, which in turn is 500 feet above sea level. Thus measured, the peak of this amazing tower is 1,700 feet above the sea; no surprise therefore that it is visible for a distance of forty miles. But the wonder which such a colossal shaft naturally excites is immensely increased by the fact that the Devil’s Tower is a composition of huge crystals of basalt, or volcanic rock, which lie in columns some three feet in diameter, and continue unbroken from the base to the peak, giving to it a fibrous appearance. The walls are almost vertical, with a slightly vertical slope, to give it a more graceful contour, and though there are occasional rifts in the sides, no human being, however skilful as a spire-climber, can ever accomplish its ascent. THE DEVIL’S TOWER OF VITRIFIED ROCK, 800 FEET HIGH.—This unparalleled curiosity, the most wonderful formation of the kind in the world, is situated on the bank of Belle Fourche River, in Northeastern Wyoming. It has a base of only 326 feet, and towers to the amazing height of 800 feet above the level plain on which it stands. A full description of this marvelous wonder is given in preceding pages, also an account of the author’s visit to it, when it was specially photographed for Glimpses of America. TEA-TABLE ROCK, WISCONSIN RIVER. The enquiry is irresistible: “What wondrous force created this petrified monster of the Wyoming table-lands?” One plausible answer may be built upon the theory that here, at one time, was the bed of an ocean, a supposition supported by such evidences as the finding of sea-shells and bones of extinct sea-creatures all about over the ground, and deeply embedded in the earth throughout the section. When the waters receded, this inequality, which might have existed as an island, was left as the product of volcanic action. But a yet more reasonable cause may be found in the supposition that along the Belle Fourche was the center of intense volcanic energy sometime during the very remote past, during which period the spot occupied by the tower was a volcano-vent out of which poured lava in such a slow and steady flow that it deposited in basaltic columnar crystals at the apex. Thus gradually it grew in size and height, like many of the formations in Yellowstone Park, until the volcano had expended its force and left this vast monument as an everlasting evidence of its persistence through centuries of activity. But however it was formed, the Devil’s Tower takes a place in the first list of the world’s greatest natural wonders, and it deserves to be much better known than it is. Returning from a long and very wearying ride to the Tower, we again took the Burlington Road, retracing much of the way we had come, and proceeded to Crawford, Nebraska, in order to view two famous curiosities known as Crow Butte and Signal Rock, which are near that town. Fort Robinson post and military reservation are a mile west, on White River, and the country is picturesque with buttes, which rise out of the prairie lands in singular impertinence and unseemliness, while considerable bluffs confine the river. The territory was for many years the scene of bitter strifes between the Sioux and Crow Indians, who reddened nearly every acre of the ground with their blood, and left remembrances of their occupancy and incidents of their adventures in names which they gave to a hundred points in the near vicinity of Crawford. South of the town, about five miles, a conspicuous object in a wide range is Crow Butte, a titanic elevation of stone, nearly two hundred feet in height and several hundred yards in circumference, with vertical walls on all sides except one, in which there is a winding-way by which a horseman may ride to the top. The legend is told that on one occasion a party of Crow Indians were so savagely pursued by their old enemies that they took refuge on the top of Crow Butte, where, though much fewer in number, they so valorously defended the narrow roadway that the Sioux were driven back each time they attempted to gain the summit. Being unable to dislodge them, the Sioux resolved to besiege the Crows until starvation compelled them to surrender. For several days and nights the siege continued, until at length hunger drove the Crows to a desperate expedient. Watching their time, when the night was darkest, they killed some of their ponies, and converting their hides into lariats, lowered one after another of their number to the ground below on the opposite side of the butte, until all but one old Indian had been safely delivered, who was left a while to keep the camp-fire burning. On the following day the old man came down and surrendered himself to the Sioux, and related to them the wonderful means by which his comrades had escaped. Instead of killing him, as might have been expected, on this one occasion the Sioux magnanimously gave him his liberty as a recompense for the loyalty and bravery which he had exhibited. DOME ROCKS IN CUSTER PARK, SOUTH DAKOTA.—In this photograph we have another striking example of the curious and wonderful natural formations of this locality, one of the most remarkable scenic regions in all the world. These rocks seem to have been built by human hands and fashioned with a purpose into all sorts and shapes of grotesque and gruesome figures, and yet it would be impossible for human hands to mold such wonders. Nature, in one of her spasms, brought them forth, and imprinted upon their face the agony of her travail. SQUAW’S CHAMBER, DELLS of the WISCONSIN. Signal Rock is only a short distance from Crow Butte, and is a similar formation, though not nearly so large; and while the summit is nearly as high, it is peaked and not difficult to reach. It derives its name from the use to which it was frequently put by the Indians in previous years, who by means of fire at night were able to signal to their friends as far away as the Bad Lands of South Dakota. The Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri River Road crosses the Burlington at Crawford, and our work of photographing the Black Hills district being completed, the trip back to St. Paul was made, and a junction with other members of the expedition was formed, whose artist labors have already been described. THE NARROWS, DELLS of the WISCONSIN. CASTLE TOWER, DELLS of the WISCONSIN. The twin cities of St. Paul and Minneapolis represent the intrusion of civilization upon the primeval lands of romance, and thus while we admire the imposing wealth and architectural beauties of these great metropoli, we cannot avoid a feeling of semi-regret that they have grown at the expense and sacrifice of some of the most charming natural wonders that first attracted public interest to the vast Northwest. The head of navigation on the Mississippi is unalterably fixed at St. Paul, for above that point the river is a brawling stream, flowing over ledges and rushing through contracted passages lined with bluffs. At Minneapolis are the Falls of St. Anthony, but no longer do these present the furious aspect which once characterized them, for the wild riot of turbulent waters that formerly went dashing over a high brink with a roar that made the shore to tremble, have been harnessed, and are now driven over sloping tables so as to glide softly into the bed below. The channel, too, has been cut and buttressed with masonry, so that the strong right arm of the falls is made a servant of commerce in supplying the motive-power for many immense flouring mills. CROW BUTTE AND SIGNAL ROCK, DAWES COUNTY, NEB.—Crow Butte is a titanic elevation of stone, nearly 200 feet in height and several hundred yards in circumference, located about five miles south of the town of Crawford, in Nebraska. The walls are vertical on all sides except one, where there is a winding way by which a horseman may reach the top. The summit is a natural fortress, where a few well-armed and determined men could hold thousands at bay. A very interesting Indian legend connected with this rock-fortress is related in Glimpses of America, the story no doubt having a good foundation in historical fact. SKYLIGHT CAVE, DELLS OF THE WISCONSIN. The sight-seer turns with feelings of disappointment at the artificial appearance of St. Anthony’s Falls, and seeking the wonders of nature unadorned, drives over to Minnehaha’s sylvan solitudes, but upon which, alas, the encroachments of sacrilegious improvements characteristic of city extension are now apparent. But the voice of its falling waters is still attuned to the rhythm of the poet that sang it into fame. Down through flower-sprinkled meadows purls and gambols a silver stream, slaking the thirst of the linnet and bathing the feet of the dove, until weary of the sunshine it spreads itself over a ledge like a veil of gossamer and drops into the cool shades that welcome its embraces. The Falls of Minnehaha are an example of that coy and quiet comportment which sometimes blushes into notoriety, for no one with less imagery than a poet would discover the sublimity of its aspect, or the artfulness of its graces. It is to Longfellow, therefore, that we owe the immortality with which these laughing waters are invested, and the imperishable fame of Hiawatha, who, while in quest of better weapons CLIFF NEAR MOUTH OF WITCHES’ GULCH. “Paused to purchase heads of arrows Of the ancient Arrow-maker, In the land of the Dacotahs, Where the Falls of Minnehaha Flash and gleam among the oak-trees, Laugh and leap into the valley. There the ancient Arrow-maker Made his arrow-heads of sandstone, Arrow-heads of chalcedony, Arrow-heads of flint and jasper, Smoothed and sharpened at the edges, Hard and polished, keen and costly.” HAWK’S BILL, DELLS OF THE WISCONSIN. But no one with a love for the picturesque can close an eye to the fairy-like beauty of Minnehaha, as it pours over a crescent brink in a sheet of gauze, so thin that the wall behind loses little of its distinctness, and the rocks upon which the water breaks are refreshed like the head of a babe at its christening. A lace curtain is not more delicate, and thistle-down is scarcely more dainty, as the illustration shows. FALLS OF ST. ANTHONY.—The principal historical interest attaching to the Falls of St. Anthony is the fact that they were discovered by the famous priest-explorer, Father Hennepin, in 1680. They no longer present the furious aspect that originally characterized them, for the turbulent waters that once dashed over the precipice with a roar that made the earth tremble have been harnessed and made a part of the requirements of modern invention, until they now glide smoothly down sloping tables to the bed of the river below. The channel has also been cut and buttressed until the banks no longer present the features of scenic interest which a score of years ago they possessed. THE FAIRIES’ RETREAT, Dells of the Wisconsin. The eroding fingers of percolating waters have worn the soft rock behind the fall, until a shelf is formed that extends three or four feet beyond the face of the wall. Visitors may therefore pass under this shelf and look outward through the transparent liquid sheet as it pours in a broad but tenuous stream, not unlike valencienne drapery gently agitated. A pathway leads from the falls down a gracefully embowered ravine to spots so temptingly secluded that maidens never wander there that love does not follow; and so many darts have been hurled at wooing swains in this romantic dell that I am almost persuaded to believe that it was not Hiawatha, but Cupid, who came here to get his arrows. WITCHES’ GULCH, Dells of the Wisconsin. But if Minnehaha is beautiful in spring-time, it is sublime when folded in the crystal arms of winter, a frozen cascade of puffs and snow-balls, hibernating after its season of sporting, awaiting the return of bird, flower and lover. Not far away are lakes of various sizes, like Minnetonka and Great Bear, to which thousands resort when sultry winds blow and the blazing sun of summer-time drives sweltering humanity to such cool retreats. But the beauties of this northern region are not exhausted by lake and waterfall, which though charming, cannot compete for interest with some of the natural marvels that exist in the neighbor State of Wisconsin. WHIRLPOOL CHAMBER, Dells of the Wisconsin. St. Croix River separates the two States and is a stream that exhibits both curious and exquisite formations along many miles of its banks, and but for the vast logging interests which it so admirably serves, penetrating as it does the great pine region, the river would be filled with pleasure-crafts throughout the summer, carrying tourists in and out among its dells and fairy-like grottos. MINNEHAHA FALLS IN SUMMER. ROMANCE CLIFF, DELLS OF THE ST. CROIX RIVER. Minnehaha is one of the smallest of the many beautiful and celebrated waterfalls of America, but it is also the most lovely and poetic. It is like a drapery of lace-work as it pours smoothly and gently over the cliff, keeping time to the merry music of its own laughing waters.—The accompanying photograph of Romance Cliff, on the St. Croix River, is as beautiful in its way as its twin sister of poetic renown, and the two together make pleasant company. SIGNAL ROCK, NEAR CAMP DOUGLAS, WISCONSIN. The bluffs of sandstone are a source of unending surprise, rising out of the water so nearly perpendicular that they defy all effort to scale them, and present a front like the walled cities of ancient times. Nature has not left them undisturbed, either, for their toussled brinks and seared sides show the finger-marks of frost in deep fissures and eccentric cleavages, while here and there fantastic images of stone stand like grim sentinels on commanding ledges, keeping unwearied watch upon the industrious river. Most curious of these erratic formations is the Devil’s Chair, which the Chippewa Indians verily believe was one time the resting-place of his sable majesty, probably when he went fishing. Anyhow, the rock bears the autographs of many adventurous persons who have been there to see. The fishing certainly was very good in this spot before Wisconsin lumbermen filled the stream so full of pine-logs that not even the devil himself could keep his line from fouling. East of the St. Croix is Chippewa River, flowing in the same general direction, but aside from being a pretty stream it has nothing to specially interest tourists, for the banks gently shelve, and where stone appears it is in thin layers, and the shore-line never rises to the dignity of bluffs. But the Chippewa Indians, though now small in numbers, still retain their ancient homes in the vicinity of the stream, which, because of its shallowness, is not used as extensively as the St. Croix for shooting logs to the Mississippi. Though surrounded by a vigorous civilization, these Indians, if we except their clothing, exhibit little change from their original customs and manners of living, subsisting by hunting, fishing, and gathering berries for the neighboring markets. They still make birch-bark canoes, like their forefathers, and in a way, too, that white men do not appear to be able to imitate. Specimens of their deft work are on sale in all the towns of Wisconsin, from which source they derive no little profit. MINNEHAHA FALLS IN WINTER.—If Minnehaha is beautiful in the spring and summer, dressed in its flowing drapery of white, it is sublime when folded in the crystal arms of winter, a frozen cascade of puffs and snowballs, hibernating after its season of festivity, awaiting the return of bird, flower and lover. Not many visitors go there in winter-time, for the north wind is biting cold; but those who do go are rewarded with a vision of loveliness unsurpassed in the realms of romance or fact. Beneath the winter sun it becomes a fairy palace, turreted with columns of alabaster, studded with diamonds and pearls, that sparkle and glow with the iridescent hues of the rainbow. CLEOPATRA’S NEEDLE, DEVIL’S LAKE. In the eastern part of the State, in Howano county, lives a small tribe called the Menomines, who are in what may be called the transition period, for their manner of living is a composite of modern ways and ancient usage and belief. Some of the Menomines appear to be thoroughly civilized, at least so far as outward indications show, while the patriarchs of the tribe remain steadfast in the faith of their fathers. They have lost none of their confidence in the Medicine Man, whose counsel in political affairs is as important as their influence over diseases of the body is pronounced. HORNET’S NEST, DELLS OF THE WISCONSIN. A Medicine Man being questioned as to how the power which he claimed was conferred, answered thus: “My heart told me that I should be a Medicine Man, and I went out upon a mountain and fasted and prayed for two days, awaiting a sign from the Great Spirit. At the end of the second day, as the sun was going to sleep, I saw a great light which blinded my eyes, and heard a noise as of the rushing of many waters. I looked around again, and about me were four animals—a black-tailed deer, a white-tailed deer, a wolf and a buffalo. They all spoke the speech of men. They said that the Great Spirit had heard my prayer and had sent them to me. The animals then took me over the prairies and told me what plants were hurtful and what were good for my people. They told me what diseases of men the good herb would cure, and then they vanished as suddenly as they came. I returned to my people, told the chiefs what I had seen, was made and have since been a Medicine Man.” CLEFT ROCK, DEVIL’S LAKE, WISCONSIN. But the transition from savage superstition to civilized modes is apparent among the Menomines, not only in the adoption of modern clothing, houses, household utensils and Christian ideas; it appears also in the change of their superstitions. They still believe in Medicine Men, and indulge in what is known as the Medicine Dance, but only at the time of the initiation of new candidates for such honors; and their doctors must now be the possessors of more or less medical knowledge, and be able to read and write. The ceremony is too long and tedious to describe, but the most superficial observer cannot fail to detect through it all the influence of contact with civilization. The Ojibways are another remnant of the great Indian tribes of the Northwest, whose homes are in Polk county, in the vicinity of Balsam Lake, a pretty sheet of water in a wild district, where fishing is good and game still fairly abundant. One peculiarity of these Indians is the sacredness with which they regard their dead, and the care they take to preserve the bodies of relatives from violation. They are content to house themselves, even through the severest winters, in the flimsiest structures, which afford very little shelter from the cold, but their dead they carefully wrap in blankets and deposit them in small oblong houses that are made to perfectly exclude rain, snow and cold, except such as may enter by a square little door in one end. These miniature mortuary houses are placed close to the homes of the living, that a better watch may be kept upon them; but what superstitious motive prompts this custom, I have not been able to learn. FOOT AND WAGON BRIDGE OVER THE ST. CROIX RIVER.—This bridge unites the States of Wisconsin and Minnesota, and spans one of the most beautiful views in the celebrated scenic region of the Northwest. The clear water of the river reflects the bluffs and surrounding objects as perfectly as the most costly mirror could, producing a double picture of exquisite loveliness, the reflection being even more beautiful in its softened outlines than the original. The region of the St. Croix is famous the world over, and is justly entitled to the honorable distinction which it holds. CHIPPEWA INDIANS, OF WISCONSIN, BUILDING A BIRCH-BARK CANOE.—Although the Chippewa Indians are now practically civilized, and differ but little in their appearance, dress and manners from the whites, yet they cling with remarkable tenacity to some of their ancient customs, one of which is the building of light bark canoes which glide like zephyrs over the surface of the water. They are very expert in this line of work, some of their little crafts being so artistically finished and ornamented as to arouse the sincere admiration of even the most critical observers. But lightness and speed are their main considerations, mere beauty being held as unimportant and suited only to holiday occasions. WINTER AT NIAGARA. A CANDIDATE FOR MEDICINE MAN BEFORE A COUNCIL OF MENOMINE INDIANS.—The Menomines are a small tribe, living in the eastern part of Wisconsin, who are in what may be called the transition period from savagery to civilization. Some of the younger ones appear to be thoroughly civilized, so far as outward indications go, while the old patriarchs remain steadfast in the faith of their fathers and their confidence in the wisdom and saving powers of the medicine man. But even these have so far advanced, perhaps unconsciously to themselves, that all candidates for this important office are required to be able to read and write, and to possess more or less knowledge of medicines. The ceremony of initiation is an important event in the life of the candidate, and is regarded with a degree of superstition and reverential awe by his friends and relatives. THE SUGAR-BOWL, DELLS OF THE WISCONSIN. Wisconsin is very justly famous for many things: its semi-civilized Indian tribes, its lakes, dense pine forests, and above all for its wondrous scenery, particularly along the Wisconsin River, where wonders the equal of those to be seen in Watkins’ Glen, New York, are met with in rapid succession some six miles north and south of Kilbourn City. It was to Kilbourn City, therefore, that we proceeded, by way of the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul Railroad, to view and photograph the truly marvelous scenery and whimsically erratic formations that characterize that section of the river known as the Dells. The river is deep, but at places so tortuously narrow between projecting elbows of the limestone walls that only such a dimity and fairy-like steamboat as the Dell Queen can thread a passage, and we accordingly committed ourselves to this frail little craft for the trip which is made by tourists first to the Upper Dells, eight miles above the city, and then to the Lower Dells, which are three miles below. For many, many centuries the Wisconsin, probably always a rapid stream, has rasped its soft Potsdam sandstone-bed, and constantly wearing its shore, has finally carved out a way that is fantastically curious. Now the stream rolls laughing along under vertical walls sometimes a hundred feet high, and wrought into the most weirdly grotesque forms imaginable. All along, its capricious course is marked by caves, caverns, grottos, glens, and eccentric pillars of stone that are as humorously dressed as a zany in caps and bells. In making the ascent from Kilbourn City one of the first objects to arrest attention is “Angel Rock,” whose broad stretch of petrified wing is said to guard against intrusion into the spectral haunts that lie beyond. “Swallow’s Fortress” next appears, a perpendicular wall of very great height, and unbroken length of two hundred feet, garrisoned by myriads of swallows that have perforated the face until it looks like the lid of a huge pepper-box. Having passed this castle of many loop-holes, we enter a section where “Romance Cliffs” pays eternal greetings to “High Rock,” with their strange configurations and picturesque statuary; a spot that is favored by speckled trout as it is by lovers. “Chimney Rock” next bursts into view, built up of as many strata as a tower of pan-cakes, which from a distance the chimney somewhat resembles. From the “Gate’s Ravine” there is a splendid sight of “Sturgeon Rock,” which is so perfectly reflected as to appear twice its natural size. Why it is called Sturgeon Rock not even tradition tells us; but it is manifest in many cases that those who bestowed names upon these pictorial surprises were so arbitrary as to be indifferent to appropriateness, like the colored woman who called her first-born Beelzebub, because she heard that some prince bore that name. WINTER CAMP AND BURIAL HOUSE OF OJIBWAY INDIANS.—The Ojibways are a remnant of the great Indian tribes of the Northwest, who live chiefly by fishing and hunting. One of their peculiarities is the sacredness with which they regard their dead, and the care they take to preserve the bodies of friends and relatives from violation. They are content to house themselves, even through the severest winters, in the flimsiest structures, but their dead they carefully wrap in blankets and deposit in small oblong houses so perfectly built as to exclude rain, snow and cold, except such as may enter by a little square door in the end. These miniature mortuary houses are placed close to the abodes of the living, where they may receive loving care and attention. The origin of this really commendable custom is not known, but it is like a similar one in vogue among the Indians of Alaska, which has been described elsewhere in these pages. OCONOMONOC FALLS, WISCONSIN. At a place where the river broadens, and the left shore spreads into a long level covered with willows, while the right bank continues its precipitous career, there is a wide extension-table projecting from the wall which is called “Visor Ledge, of Stand Rock.” This jutting point is admirably designed for a jumping-off place, and it is a matter for surprise that it was not christened Lover’s Leap, like all other similar ledges and shelves that I have seen. Beyond this the river again narrows, and singular efflorescences of stone, like a garden of flowering curios, wrap our attention with questioning surprise. “The Hawk’s Bill” is certain to catch our notice, and equally sure to excite our wonder that it was not called the “Toothless Old Man,” for it does seem that he might make a nut-cracker of his nose and chin. “Black Hawk’s Leap” must be accepted as a poor substitute for the “Lover’s Jump,” but as the latter has no place on Wisconsin River the former name has been applied to a section of pictured wall that is excavated at the base, and in which the gurgle of water is accentuated by echo into ominous noises. This natural excavation is called Black Hawk’s Cave, and is said to have been the place of retreat of a vanquished party of Indians, who were murderously pursued by a large number of their enemies, but memory fails to recall the particulars. A little further beyond is another grotto of still more remarkable formation, called “Cave of the Dark Waters,” and rightly it is named, for the entrance is by a small portal into a commodious chamber whose first most noticeable characteristic is its darkness. The water is deep throughout, and continually suggests the advantages of the cave as a place in which to commit crime, or to kiss your girl while passing through a dark tunnel. BELEAGUERED CASTLE, CAMP DOUGLAS, WISCONSIN.—The scenery about Camp Douglas is weird, sublime and curious. There are formations of odd and fantastic shapes, like the conjurings of a disordered brain, while others lift their rugged sides and castellated peaks into the air with all the grandeur and picturesqueness of “castles on the Rhine.” To this latter class belongs “Beleaguered Castle,” so boldly photographed on this page. Its resemblance to the ruins of some ancient fortification is so striking as to arouse the wonder and admiration of all beholders. The trees that have planted their roots in its sides and along the top of its mimic battlements serve to heighten the resemblance, so that one standing in its presence can hardly divest himself of the belief that he is really viewing the walls of some frowning relic of the warlike past. CAVE OF THE DARK WATERS, LAKE SUPERIOR. It is a positive relief from the oppression which entrance to the Dark Waters Cave produces to be hailed, after emerging, by a sturdy little stone island with a tossing crest of pine, which some Sweet William has named the “Sugar-Bowl.” It is all the more refreshing because islands in the river are exceedingly scarce, and this diversity of landscape is accordingly doubly appreciated. Still further beyond is the “Mouth of Witches’ Gulch,” commanded by picturesque cliffs that show the teeth-marks and lacerations of the gnawing waters. So romantic is the spot, and so inviting the little saucer-shaped beach of white sand, that all the pleasure-boats that ply in the Dells make a landing here and give their passengers opportunity to go on shore and carve their names on the terraced walls. So many persons had been there before us, however, that barely space was found to write a pencil autograph. Another stop is made at “Cold Water CaÑon,” usually dry, but through which the river pours in an impetuous torrent during high water. Hereabout are also glens and other curious excavations, among which is a hollow formation seventy feet high and fifty broad, called the “Devil’s Jug.” Another run of less than a mile brings us to “Steamboat Rock,” an oval island covered with hemlock and mountain cedars, opposite to which a third landing is made, and ascending three flights of stairs to gain the summit of the cliffs, across a stretch of woods, and descending a steep, rocky ledge, we find ourselves at the superlative wonder of the Dells—Witches’ Gulch. Abruptly arriving at the entrance of the gulch, above which 189 feet, in a projecting rock, may be seen the wry, unmistakable features of a tousled old hag, the queen of the witches, so ominously frowning on forms and faces below. Without the slightest exaggeration it certainly is one of the most wonderful, weird and peculiar places on this continent. MINER’S FALLS, LAKE SUPERIOR. WHITE ROCK, LAKE SUPERIOR. The Pictured Rocks of Lake Superior and the scenery adjacent to them are celebrated in art and romance. The former derive their name from the great diversity of colors which they display. They have been worn into strange shapes by frost and storm, and stained by the thousand dyes of nature in every possible variety of arrangement, far beyond the power of words to describe; and this profusion of color and shape is repeated mile after mile, until the tourist is lost in wondering admiration. THE OLD GUARD, NEAR DEVIL’S LAKE, WIS. Entering the gulch, we look up—far up—and catch glimpses of sunlight and see huge pines prostrate and lying from one ledge to another, admonishing us to look well to our going. After many, many windings, we come into “Phantom Chamber,” and in the side of a rocky ledge, scooped out, as if by hand, find a natural basin, and take a drink of the cool spring water gurgling out of the great rock into this hidden Pool of Siloam. In this rocky apartment we ascend a pair of stairs, from under which the stream that meanders through the entire gulch leaps in majestic fall, its roar almost deafening, and spray dashing over us. For thousands of years this little stream—at first, probably, a switch of rainfall on the earth’s surface—has been engaged in wearing this chasm in the sandstone, until now the gorge is seventy-five feet deep, nearly a mile long, and in some places so narrow that a large person can only pass through with difficulty, especially at Fat Man’s (or Woman’s) Misery-point. In several places vast chambers have been formed, at the door-way of one of which a beautiful fall of water leaps down into a deep-cut basin. SPLIT ROCK, DEVIL’S LAKE, WISCONSIN. There are several deep crevasses in the river leading to places of extraordinary beauty and wonder, and which on account of the narrow passage cannot be reached by the little steamboat. Row-boats are therefore provided, by the aid of which we visited a number of these side-attractions. “Skylight Cave” is one of these which, though having a small mouth, widens inside and receives light through a little crevice at the top. It is a cosy little retreat that well repays a visit. FALLS OF ST. LOUIS RIVER. Returning to Kilbourn City, on the following day a trip was made to Taylor’s Glen, which is thus well described by a correspondent: “At the handsome school building on the east side of the village, a rugged path struggles down into an ordinary ‘hollow,’ which farther down and followed, opens into a grand gorge. Every step now reveals scenes and formations beside which all the boasted charms of ‘Watkin’s Glen’ become commonplace. Being neither cave nor valley, but combining all the attractions of both, it winds and twists through immense rocks in a serpentine path. At one point, far overhead, a sheet of daylight slants through a mere rift the rocks. The roof and high-arching walls are frescoed with diamond dew and dripping, drooping mosses and lichens. Groups of strange figures, carved by cataracts, washed by whirlpools ages on ages ago, ape Egyptian gods and mummies of the ancient Orient. Here a crystal spring bursts from a wall of solid stone and goes dancing down over pebbles and ferns. On through an ever-varying pathway filled with kaleidoscope-like enchantment we wandered with awe and admiration, our journey ending at a long, dark tunnel, which looks out, through a wide, cavernous window, upon the river beyond. The Lower Dells, like their companions above the village, have rocky banks, covered with vegetation, and curiously shaped formations no less interesting than the aggregation, a description of which I have but faintly accomplished. One cannot see this truly remarkable, weird, romantic and beautiful section of our land and suppress admiration. Nor will a week suffice for a thorough exploration of the caves, grottos, rocks and ravines hereabouts. Above Witches’ Gulch is a beautiful view of the river, its bluffs and many islands, a fairly comparable Lake George view. A fine drive is had north from Kilbourn to ‘Hornet’s Nest,’ ‘Squaw’s Chamber,’ ‘Luncheon Hall,’ ‘Stand Rock,’ ‘Devil’s Lake,’ and many points of interest farther up the river and in the country in this and adjoining counties.” RAPIDS OF MONTREAL RIVER, NORTH OF LAKE SUPERIOR.—These picturesque rapids are located in the midst of a wooded dell, hemmed in and secluded by surrounding hills from the busy haunts of men. In peace and quiet they laugh and frolic and sing their merry song of rippling waters and dashing fountains through the summer days, and when winter comes they put on a dress of foamy puffs of white that sparkles and glows like a bed of diamonds in the dull rays of the northern sun. GIANT’S CASTLE, NEAR CAMP DOUGLAS. The whole region within a radius of thirty or more miles of Kilbourn City, particularly on the west, is full of natural curiosities, for the district was evidently at one time, in the remote past, the bed of a lake whose swirling waters carved the soft sandstones into many astounding forms, and then were assuaged by some force which geologists fail to explain, leaving these rare monuments of their work behind them. Devil’s Lake, nearby, is the relic of that vast inland sea, which no doubt was a part of the great lakes, on the shores of which are many images of wondrous shapes and size, with many of which interesting legends are connected. Thus “Sacrifice Stone,” in “Wonder Notch,” is popularly believed to be the rock on which an Indian maiden was immolated at an unknown time to propitiate the anger of the Great Spirit, while “Cleft Rock” represents the fury of the devil who, while in a passion over some act of the tribe, rose out of the lake and hurled one of his fiery darts with such poor aim that it did no other damage than split the largest stone on the shore. Cleopatra’s Needle is likewise reputed to be the transformed and geologic remains of a very ancient Indian chief who was punished by the devil for the audacity of attempting to penetrate the mysteries of the lake; while another broken and distorted stone on the front of East Mountain is connected with a similar and indistinct tradition respecting the invidious curiosity of a squaw. But though there is no lack of superstitious beliefs among the few Indians of the district, who respect these queer formations as the relics of their forefathers, there is no more foundation for them than the mere claim that “so it has been told,” for no one has ever heard the particulars. It is a forgotten story. SUGAR-LOAF, MACINAC ISLAND.—Macinac Island is a delightful and picturesque summer resort, located in the Strait of Macinac, which connects Lakes Michigan and Huron. It is only about three miles long by two wide, and is rough and rocky. The natural scenery is charming. The geologist finds mysteries in the calcareous rocks dripping at unexpected angles; the antiquarian feasts his eyes on the Druidical circles of the ancient stones; the invalid sits on the cliff’s edge in the vivid sunshine, and breathes in the buoyant air with delight. The haunted birches abound, and on the crags grow the wild larches beckoning with their long fingers, the most human tree of all. There are many natural curiosities on the island, the most noted being Sugar-Loaf, so beautifully photographed on this page. It is conical in shape, and rises to a height of 134 feet. CHIMNEY AND BEE ROCKS, CAMP DOUGLAS, WISCONSIN. Near the west center of Juneau county, fifteen miles east of the Wisconsin River, is a cross-roads railroad town called Camp Douglas, which is in the midst of a region remarkable for natural curiosities, rivaling those found in the Bad Lands in Wyoming. It is a country of sandstone that exhibits the astonishing results of centuries of water and wind erosions upon what was manifestly once a vast bed of argillaceous clay, that in the process of time was converted into soft stone as the lake dried up. The receding waters gradually wore deep ravines in the sandstone, thus giving birth to rivulets which aided a more rapid change in the bed until it became traversed by numerous streams that in time completely drained the lake. Then the winds began their work of eroding, helped by the sand which they carried, and the result became finally, as we behold it in the Bad Lands, and in Monument Park, Colorado, a large number of towers, domes, pinnacles and other architectural forms. To the more strikingly curious shapes names have been given, as the “Old Guard,” “Giant’s Castle,” “Castle Rock,” “Chimney Rock,” “Signal Rock,” “Beleaguered Castle,” etc., as shown by the illustrations. From Kilbourn City we went to Milwaukee, and thence by the Chicago and Northwestern, and the Minneapolis, St. Paul and Sault Ste. Marie Railroad to St. Ignace, where we took boat for Mackinac Island, a very noted resort in the Straits of Mackinaw. This island is celebrated for its splendid scenery, some of which we photographed, after which we proceeded to Sault Ste. Marie, the seat of government of Chippewa county, Michigan, and noted for having one of the largest and finest ship canals in the world, through which, surprising as the statement appears, a larger daily tonnage passes than the Suez Canal accommodates. One of the sights that are apt to claim the particular attention of visitors now are the new grain-carrying vessels called Whale-backs, which have within the last three years become a feature of our lake commerce. FALLS OF MINER’S RIVER IN WINTER. THE CASCADE IN WINTER, LAKE SUPERIOR. In order to fully realize and appreciate the splendor and marvelous beauty of the Pictured Rocks and the scenery adjacent thereto, they must be seen in winter, when they are dressed in their frosty sheets of ice and snow and ornamented with a thousand pillars of pearly white. It is then that they appear like scenes from fairy-land, as pictured in the fantastic creations of poets and painters. SIGNAL ROCK, CAMP DOUGLAS. In order to observe the shores more clearly, we took one of the Lake Superior Transit Company’s steamers at Sault Ste. Marie for Duluth, a route which gives opportunity for taking photographs of the incomparable pictured cliffs of Superior. But at Marquette, where the steamer lands, a yacht was engaged in which we were able to approach much of the finest scenery that would otherwise have escaped our attention. The range of cliffs to which the name of Pictured Rocks has been given, may be regarded as among the most striking and beautiful features of the scenery of the Northwest, and is well worthy the attention of the artist and the observer of geological phenomena. They may be described, in general terms, as a series of sandstone bluffs extending along the shore of Lake Superior for about five miles, and derive their name from the great diversity of colors they display. They are worn into strange shapes by frost and storm, and stained by a thousand dyes in every possible variety of arrangement, far beyond the power of words to describe, and all this profusion is repeated mile after mile, keeping up the interest by some new prospect of sweeping curve, or abrupt angle, or fantastic form. “The ‘Castle,’ the first of the more striking features of the rocks, bears at a distance a great resemblance to an ancient castle, with walls, towers, and battlements. Further on, a mass of detached rock called the ‘Sail Rock’ comes into view, and so striking is its resemblance to a sloop with the jib and mainsail spread, that a short distance out on the lake any one would suppose it a real boat sailing near the beach. But the principal feature of the rocks is the magnificent cave known as the ‘Grand Portal.’ Let the reader imagine himself in a room 400 feet long by 18 feet wide, and 150 to 200 feet high to the arched roof, bulk of yellow sandstone, seamed with decay, and dripping with water. Shout, and the voice is multiplied a hundred-fold by echoes that reverberate several seconds, sharp, metallic. Here the stratum of gravel rises about fifty feet, while at the castle it is nearly down to the water’s level. The waters are undermining the foundations, and wearing holes everywhere in the support of the walls and the roof. The water in the cave increases in depth as you go out towards the lake, from the bare rocks of the back end to about fifty feet at the opening, and a few rods from the shore it is a hundred feet, or more. The cliff on the west, next to the Grand Portal, is hollowing out, forming an immense cave, increasing every year.” NIPIGON RIVER, FLOWING INTO LAKE SUPERIOR.—Nipigon River and Lake are famous fishing and hunting resorts in the British possessions north of Lake Superior. They are also celebrated for their fine scenery, which attracts many tourists to that region during the summer months. There are numerous rapids in the river, where salmon and trout of a superior quality abound in such quantities as to fully satisfy all lovers of the piscatorial sport who visit this region. SAND ISLAND ARCH, LAKE SUPERIOR. “It is beyond the power of the pencil,” says a recent traveler, “to represent the effect of the reflected light in the roof as seen from the rear. Especially when the sun is toward the west the bright light is reflected from the waves into the cavern, and undulates like a sea of light overhead; a picture in living colors, so tender, so quiet—luminous, pearly grays, bright flashes, cool, high lights, all warmed by the yellow sandstone, dripping with water, on which the effect is thrown.” “At the mouth of Miner’s River the coast makes an abrupt turn to the eastward, and just at the point where the rocks break off and the sand beach begins, is seen one of the grandest works of nature in her rock-built architecture, which is known as ‘Miners’ Castle,’ from its singular resemblance to the turreted entrance and arched portal of some old castle. The height of the advancing mass, in which the form of the gothic gateway may be recognized, is about seventy feet, while that of the main wall forming the background is about one hundred and forty. The appearance of the opening at the base changes rapidly with each change in the position of the spectator, and on taking a position a little to the right of that occupied by the sketcher, the central opening appears more distinctly, flanked on either side by two lateral passages, making the resemblance to an artificial work still more striking. The chapel, if not the grandest, is among the most grotesque of nature’s architecture here displayed. Unlike the excavations before described, which occur at the water’s edge, this has been made in the rock at a height of thirty or forty feet above the lake. The interior consists of a vaulted apartment, which has not inaptly received the name it bears. An arched roof of sandstone, from ten to twenty feet in thickness, rests on four gigantic columns of rock, so as to leave a vaulted apartment of irregular shape, about forty feet in diameter, and about the same in height. The columns consist of finely stratified rock, and have been worn into curious shapes. At the base of one of them an arched cavity, or niche, has been cut, to which access is had by a flight of steps, formed by the projecting strata. The disposition of the whole is such as to resemble, very much, the pulpit of a church; since there is, overhead, an arched canopy, and in front an opening out towards the vaulted interior or the chapel, with a flat tubular mass in front, rising to a convenient height for a desk, while on the right is an isolated block, which not inaptly represents an altar; so that, if the whole had been adapted expressly for a place of worship, and fashioned by the hands of men, it could hardly have been arranged more appropriately. It is scarcely possible to describe the singular and unique effect of this extraordinary structure; it is truly a temple of nature—‘an house not made with hands.’” THE CHAPEL, PICTURED ROCKS, LAKE SUPERIOR.—This curiously carved rock, painted in many colors by the chemicals of Nature’s laboratory, forms a bold and picturesque point on the north shore of Lake Superior. It consists of a vaulted apartment in the rock, thirty or forty feet above the level of the lake. An arched roof of sandstone rests on four natural columns, forming an apartment about forty feet in diameter and the same in height. Within are a pulpit and altar, perfect as if fashioned by the hand of man. It is one of the most curious formations in this celebrated scenic region, and has been often pictured and described. ABODE OF THE GENII, LAKE SUPERIOR. The Pictured Rocks are beautiful and fantastic at all times, but it is in winter that they are sublimely lovely, bewilderingly grand, as photographs taken by Mr. Childs, to whom we are indebted for their use here, will show. The falls of Miners’ River are exquisite when pouring over a brink fringed with greenest foliage, but when held in the vise-like grip of winter they are magnificent almost beyond conception. They are a fitting prelude to the spectatorium of cave wonders near-by, such as the “Abode of the Genii,” which might better be called the “Throne-room of Fairy Stalacta.” The water percolating through the roof of the caverns is frozen into the rarest, daintiest and most exquisite incrustations imaginable, some having the appearance of snow balls, chrysanthemums and lilies, while others reach down their immense crystal points, as if trying to rest their ponderous weight upon the opalescent floor. The “Cave-of-the-Winds” has a splendid entrance, and being shallow in depth is well lighted, so that the ice-covered walls reflect the most gorgeous colors; but the congealed formations, while very beautiful, cannot compare with those that the Genii of the neighbor grotto have appropriated. The splendors of these shores, however, are by no means confined to the caverns, for almost equally curious and charming views are presented by the vertical faces of the snowy cliffs, upon which winter hangs the most magnificent draperies. “The Cascade” is formed by the water flowing over a low bench along the shore, but at many points more curious effects are produced by the fierce lashings of the lake that toss showers of spray high up on the cliffs, where it freezes into shapes peculiarly wonderful and often radiantly beautiful. “Peter’s Pillar” is a curious ice monument formed by a little waterfall that drops through a hole it has worn in the bluff, but about the base are pretty ice terraces and graceful corrugations, the frozen spray cast from the shore-beating waves of the angry lake. CAVE-OF-THE-WINDS, LAKE SUPERIOR. EXTERIOR VIEW OF CAVE-OF-THE-WINDS. The Cave-of-the-Winds presents a royal view of sky and lake, through an archway covered with stalactites, when the observation is taken from within; but its outward appearance is not particularly striking. The cave is shallow in depth and well lighted, so that the ice-covered walls give forth the most gorgeous colors as the reflected rays from the lake fall upon them. BAY OF ISLES, LAKE SUPERIOR. PAD-LOCK ISLAND, LAKE SUPERIOR. “The Grand Portal” is a perforation through an elbow of the palisades, and of such magnitude as to appear like a vast cave, when viewed from an angle. Inside, however, it is seen to be a great tunnel, sufficiently curved to barely admit the sight of a small opening at each end. At this point the cliffs jut into the lake, and in winter they are festooned and royally embellished with lovely ice-forms of every imaginable shape. A formation somewhat similar is seen on “Sand Island” of the Apostle Group, where the beating waves have made an excavation through an arm of the palisades sufficiently large to admit the passage of a row-boat. PRINCESS BAY, LAKE SUPERIOR. THE SEA-ELEPHANT, LAKE SUPERIOR. But for miles the vertical and gleaming white bluffs of sandstone, sometimes resembling the chalk banks of Albion, distinguish the shore line, and exhibit surprising perforations that are frequently large enough to permit a boat to venture out of sight; and naturally they attract large numbers of summer tourists, who find in these caves, like the “Bay of Isles” and “Cave of the Dark Waters,” excellent trout fishing. THE GRAND PORTAL, LAKE SUPERIOR. GRAND PORTALS, FROM THE LAKE. The Grand Portal is the doorway or entrance to a splendid cave in the cliff of the Pictured Rocks. It is in the form of an immense vaulted chamber, with a ceiling nearly one hundred feet high, which has been carved out of the yellow limestone by the restless waves as they are driven in and out by the force of the winds. The sides of the cave are fretted and worn into all sorts of fantastic shapes, presenting a remarkable and exceedingly interesting spectacle. The view from the portal, embracing the adjacent cliffs and a vast expanse of rolling waters, is grand and sublime. THE ICE PALACE AT ST. PAUL IN 1888.—It is hard to believe that this majestic structure, with its frowning battlements, massive walls and wrinkled visage of war, is composed wholly of transparent blocks of ice. It has more the appearance of an impregnable castle, which, outliving the scars and bruises of mediÆval battles and the ravages of time, has come on down into our modern and better era as an example of the architectural ability and requirements of the dark and bloody days of former ages. But it is a castle which requires no resounding thump of the battering-ram or crash of cannon-ball to shatter its walls and break its turrets, for they vanish and melt away into imperceptible vapors under the warm kisses of the virgin spring sun. STORMING THE ST. PAUL ICE PALACE, 1888.—This photograph represents a scene of the grandest and most imposing character. The interior of the palace was brilliantly illuminated, until it shone and sparkled like an immense diamond, while from every tower, turret and battlement many-colored lights blazed and flashed and shot up into the sky until the very heavens seemed to be on fire. On the outside there were batteries of rockets and Roman candles, and flashing meteors that hurled their fiery messengers against the walls of ice, bursting into a thousand brilliant and glowing fragments whose reflection bathed the face of the dark sky in a flood of iridescent light. It was a scene of splendor long to be remembered by those who saw it. PETER’S PILLAR, LAKE SUPERIOR. The wonders of Lake Superior’s shores do not terminate at Duluth, for the walls rise to even a greater height on the north line and are of green sandstone and porphyry, occasionally twelve hundred feet high. The St. Louis River enters the lake from the northwest at Duluth; and though this stream is barely deep enough to float a raft of logs, it runs between lofty banks of the same general character as those which confine the Great Lake. Enormous palisades line the north shore of Superior, whose columns are so symmetrical as to equal the best productions of the sculptor’s art. Pigeon River forms part of the boundary line between Canada and the United States, and is a stream in great repute with sportsmen, and also offers attractions to those who delight in natural scenery of a sublime character. Pigeon Falls is but one of many interruptions in its course towards the lake, the pool formed by the dropping water being a favorite haunt for trout and salmon, while in the numerous lakes near-by are myriads of water-fowls that have their nesting-places on the shores. A few miles toward the east is Nipigon River, another beautiful stream that connects a lake of the same name with Superior. It is somewhat wider than Pigeon River, and its shores are less bluffy; thus the current being less rapid, the stream is diversified by many little islands that are so green with pines, hemlocks and other trees as to look like emerald gems. But all along the north shore are scenes of great beauty, and vast stores of mineral wealth in iron and copper lie only a few feet beneath the surface; yet notwithstanding all these attractions, the region is rarely visited save by Indians and sportsmen. We reached St. Paul, after an absence of nearly one month, and there met our photographer who had gone into the Black Hills in quest of views. Being thus reunited, we started down the Mississippi, but by rail, as the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul Railroad follows the bank as far as La Crosse. Several stops were made, however, in order to catch pictures of Fort Snelling, and the grand bluffs above and below Winona, which for towering magnificence far exceed the hills that render the Hudson famous. Indeed, considering the river from St. Paul to Pepin Lake, the Mississippi’s shores present finer scenery than is to be found along any other navigable stream on either continent. But south of that point the views are rather monotonous until Grafton is reached, where the Piasa Bluffs begin and run along the river for twenty miles, exhibiting not only great vertical height, but curious shapes, and at one point some very ancient Indian picture writings. PIGEON RIVER FALLS, NORTH SHORE OF LAKE SUPERIOR.—The north shore of Lake Superior, and the little rivers which run to its waters, present many surprising and beautiful scenes. One of these is pictured on this page. It is a small sequestered stream, modestly winding its way through shading woods and green meadows, and along by quiet, restful farm-houses, until in a spirit of reckless fun, wholly unexpected of such a demure little rivulet, it suddenly plunges down a precipice with many a laughing leap and merry roar, breaking into a thousand shining sprays that enrapture the senses with their marvelous beauty and evanescent colors. OLD FORT SNELLING, ON THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER.—This grim and grizzled relic of the past is named in honor of a brave soldier, Colonel Josiah Snelling, who served his country faithfully and bravely in many well-fought battles with the Indians in the early part of the present century. When the fort was first erected it was on the uttermost borders of civilization, in the midst of many surrounding dangers, and it served its purpose as a nucleus and protection for the gathering settlements of a later period. |