.V 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY 
 
 From the library of 
 Prof. James McLaren White 
 Presented by 
 Mrs. Edith A. White 
 1934 
 
 49 IT3 
 
 ’ W<oT3a 
 
AMERICA ILLUSTRATED 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 , #». 
 
 J. DAVID WILLIAMS 
 
 THE NEW YORK PRINTING & PUBLISHING COMPANY. 
 
 V 
 
 1879. 
 
• 5^37 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 T 
 
 HE purpose of this work is to make the people acquainted with the superb creations of Nature that 
 distinguish our country above all others. With such an extraordinary richness of material, we regret 
 
 • vr J 
 
 that our attention, owing to the fact that our space is circumscribed through the marvellously low price at 
 
 theless, the great mass of our population have had no adequate conception. Descriptions without illustrations 
 are indeed “ songs without words.” 
 
 Although it can no longer be said of us that we are a people without a history, it must be admitted that 
 many elements of the picturesque, plentiful in other lands, are lacking in this. There are no castles in our 
 midst, whose ruined turrets and crumbled walls, in light and in shade, in sunshine and in storm, have 
 
 furnished, for countless years, food for the artist’s pencil — a picture ever varying yet always the same. 
 Neither, among our innumerable beautiful valleys, are there any in which for generations the landscape has 
 remained absolutely without change, and whose inhabitants, living in cottages of low-browed architecture, 
 depend, not indeed as in the olden time for life and liberty, but even now for social status and, practically, 
 for political representation, upon the will of a few dominant landed proprietors. All these things, with their 
 romantic associations and antique legends, are happily absent from our country. The glory of the historic 
 
 countries is their past. While pointing with a pardonable pride to the great cities we have created, to the 
 countless miles of railroad we have constructed, to the broad rivers we have bridged, and to the enormous 
 chasms over which we have erected viaducts, our glory is yet our future. 
 
 On this continent Nature has, moreover, been so fantastic in many of her works, and has scattered her 
 beauties around with such lavish profusion, that, to the true lover of the picturesque, America presents charms 
 unknown to other lands. The grandeur and vastness of our mountains ; the large featured sublimity of the 
 scenery of many of our rivers — so majestic in the fulness and evenness of their flow ; the great extent of our 
 wonderful underground caverns ; the awfulness of the canons to be found in our western territories — many of 
 which have been but recently, with great difficulty and danger, explored ; the immensity of our lakes — beyond 
 
 all comparison the largest in the world ; the sublime beauty and height of our waterfalls — the greatest in 
 
 volume and nearly the highest in the world ; and, above all, the extraordinary physical phenomena to be 
 found in our Great National Park (the Valley of the Yellowstone), — so extraordinary as to surpass in actual 
 fact the wildest conceptions of the most fantastic imagination ; — all these present a field which surpasses any 
 other in richness of picturesque, and show that Nature has wrought with a bolder hand in this land than 
 in those that boast of an older civilization. 
 
 which this work is published, has necessarily been confined to the most prominent types of scenery. We 
 have, however, endeavored in all cases to select as the subject of our illustrations those landscapes whose 
 names have for years been familiar as household words, but of whose sublime beauty and magnificence, never- 
 
 J. D. W. 
 
 3848 ! 2 
 
CONTENTS AND LIST OF ENGRAVINGS 
 
 TITLE PAGE 
 
 CONTENTS AND LIST OF ENGRAVINGS 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE YELLOWSTONE 
 THE LOWER FALLS 
 THE LOWER CANON 
 THE GRAND CANON 
 CRYSTAL FALLS . 
 
 YELLOWSTONE LAKE 
 
 THE HUDSON RIVER AT WEST POINT 
 
 to 
 
 VIEW OF THE HUDSON FROM THE VICINITY OF WEST POINT . 
 
 NATURAL BRIDGE, VIRGINIA * 
 
 THE NATURAL BRIDGE - 
 
 TRENTON PUGH FALLS, NEW YORK 
 
 PANORAMA OF TRENTON FALLS 
 
 SOUAM LAKE, NEW HAMPSHIRE 
 
 SQUAM LAKE 
 
 THE WHITE MOUNTAINS 
 
 SILVER CASCADE, CRAWFORD’S NOTCH 
 
 MOUNT WASHINGTON AND THE WHITE HILLS 
 
 MOUNT WASHINGTON RAILWAY 
 
 THE DEPOT AND SUMMIT HOUSE, MT. WASHINGTON 
 
 LAKE GEORGE 
 
 ROGER’S SLIDE, LAKE GEORGE 
 
 MAMMOTH CAVE, KENTUCKY . 
 
 THE ENTRANCE 
 
 THE CHURCH . 
 
 THE DEAD SEA 
 
 THE BOTTOMLESS PIT 
 
 MINOT’S LEDGE LIGHTHOUSE, MASSACHUSETTS .... 
 
 MINOT’S LEDGE LIGHTHOUSE 
 
 NIAGARA FALLS 
 
 THE RAPIDS ABOVE THE FALLS 
 
 ON THE ROCKS BELOW THE AMERICAN FALLS 
 
 GRAND VIEW OF THE HORSESHOE (CANADIAN) AND AMERICAN FALLS . 
 
 THE GREAT HORSESHOE CURVE ON THE PENNSYLVANIA R. 
 
 VIEW FROM HORSESHOE CURVE, EARLY MORNING 
 
 SCENE AT ALLEGRIPPUS 
 
 DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER 
 
 THE FALLS OF ST. ANTHONY 
 
 DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER 
 
 THE RAFT 
 
 THE BRIDGE ACROSS THE MISSISSIPPI AT ST. LOUIS 
 
 “WOODING UP” 
 
 THE LEVEE 
 
 REMOVING SNAGS BY DREDGING 
 
 SCENE AT BATON ROUGE DURING THE FLOODS OF 1S74 .... 
 
 HOT SPRINGS AND GEYSERS OF THE YELLOWSTONE . 
 
 THE HOT SPRINGS NEAR GARDINER’S RIVER 
 
 GREAT FALLS OF THE YELLOWSTONE 
 
 BOILING SULPHUR SPRINGS 
 
 HOT SPRING CONE 
 
 R. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
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CONTENTS AND LIST OF ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 GIANT GEYSER 5 g 
 
 CASTLE GEYSER AND FIRE BASIN r g 
 
 THE GROTTO ’ ’ [ 6o 
 
 THE EAST RIVER 61 
 
 GOVERNMENT BUILDINGS ON WARD’S ISLAND 62 
 
 OPENING OF THE SHAFT BENEATH HELL GATE 64 
 
 THE YOSEMITE VALLEY 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE YOSEMITE 
 
 YOSEMITE FALLS 
 
 MIRROR LAKE AND MOUNT WATKINS . 
 
 EL CAPITAN FROM MERCED RIVER . 
 
 BIG TREE 
 
 SARATOGA SPRINGS AND SARATOGA LAKE . 
 
 DUCK SHOOTING ON SARATOGA LAKE . 
 
 A FEEDER TO THE LAKE 
 
 PERCH FISHING ON THE LAKE 
 
 FISHING FROM A SAIL-BOAT 
 
 FAIRMOUNT PARK, PHILADELPHIA . . , 
 
 VIEW IN FAIRMOUNT PARK 
 
 65 
 
 67 
 
 69 
 
 70 
 
 70 
 
 71 
 
 73 
 
 72 
 
 74 
 
 74 
 
 75 
 
 75 
 
 76 
 
 THE REGION OF THE JUNIATA . 77 
 
 IN LEWISTOWN NARROWS 78 
 
 SCENE ON A CREEK EMPTYING INTO LITTLE JUNIATA . 79 
 
 THE LITTLE JUNIATA AT TYRONE 80 
 
 NIAGARA FALLS : PAST AND FUTURE 81 
 
 A NIGHT VIEW OF NIAGARA IN OLDEN TIME 83 
 
 SABBATH-DAY POINT, LAKE GEORGE 85 
 
 VIEW OF SABBATH-DAY POINT, LAKE GEORGE 86 
 
 THE ERIE CANAL 87 
 
 GRAIN-BOAT ON THE ERIE CANAL 88 
 
 BLUFF ON THE ERIE CANAL NEAR LITTLE FALLS go 
 
 IN THE ADIRONDACKS 91 
 
 IN THE WILDS 9 3 
 
 UPPER AUSABLE LAKE 95 
 
 DEER ON LAKE ST. REGIS AT NIGHT 9 7 
 
 THE WONDERS OF THE COLORADO RIVER 99 
 
 DISTANT VIEW OF MOQUI, WITH SHEEP-PENS IN THE FORE-GROUND 101 
 
 ANOTHER VIEW OF MOQUI 103 
 
 THE GRAND CANON 105 
 
 LUMBERING ON THE SUSQUEHANNA 106 
 
 MAKING UP RAFTS ON THE SUSQUEHANNA RIVER 107 
 
 THE HUDSON RIVER 10S 
 
 THE PALISADES 109 
 
 STONY POINT no 
 
 ENTRANCE TO THE HIGHLANDS NEAR NEWBURGH hi 
 
 POUGHKEEPSIE 112 
 
 PROPOSED BRIDGE ACROSS THE HUDSON AT POUGHKEEPSIE 113 
 
 SUNSET ROCK, CATSKILL MOUNTAINS 114 
 
 THE GREAT LAKES AND THEIR GREAT CITIES 115 
 
 MAIN STREET, BUFFALO, OPPOSITE THE CHURCHES 115 
 
 BUFFALO HARBOR, FROM THE BREAKWATER 116 
 
 BUFFALO CREEK, LOOKING OUT 117 
 
 VIEW OF MILWAUKEE BAY, LAKE MICHIGAN 118 
 
 MILWAUKEE RIVER 119 
 
 GRAIN-VESSELS LEAVING CHICAGO ,120 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
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AMERICA 
 
 ILLUSTRATED. 
 
 S)BOO 
 
 THE VALLEY OE THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 other 
 continent ; 
 
 W ITHIN the last 
 three years a won- 
 derful portion of the earth’s 
 surface, of previously hid- 
 den and, indeed, almost 
 unsuspected beauty, has 
 been opened up, by the 
 persevering efforts of a 
 body of explorers, selected 
 from among men of sci- 
 ence and adventure. The 
 Yellowstone Region in the 
 Rocky Mountains is de- 
 scribed by those who have 
 visited it as superior to all 
 wonders of the American 
 and it does, in reality, ful- 
 fil the most extravagant of the suppo- 
 sitions to which its concealed marvels 
 gave rise. For more than sixty years, 
 ever since the existence of a lake, 
 which they held to be the source of 
 the Yellowstone River, was established 
 in 1806 by the celebrated explorers 
 Captains Clarke and Lewis, these 
 marvels were vaguely hinted at and 
 surmised. But the mystery is a mys- 
 tery no longer ; and the official records 
 of the government tell us what the 
 brave men saw who penetrated to the 
 valley, on whose south side are the 
 Wind River Mountains, a snow-clad 
 barrier which no white man had ever 
 crossed (prior to the expedition of Captain Jones in 
 1873, these solitudes were thought impassable); on 
 whose eastern side is the Snowy Mountain Range, and 
 a grand cluster of volcanic peaks ; on whose north side 
 are the Gallatin Range and the vast parallel ridges 
 through which the tributaries of the Missouri pass 
 northward. 
 
 It was the exceptional difficulties which had to be 
 surmounted before the Yellowstone Basin could be 
 reached, that caused exploring expeditions to neglect it 
 for so long a period. The Valley is walled in, as be- 
 fore stated, by almost impassable mountain ranges. The 
 famous western guide, Bridger, declared that a direct 
 
 The Lower Falls. 
 
8 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 route from Lower Wyoming was an absolute impossibility, and that a crow could not fly over it, 
 unless it took provisions along. The first exploring party under Professor Hayden (1870) were 
 compelled to take an exceedingly circuitous route, and to consume much time in following it. They 
 went north in Montana as far as Fort Ellis, and then approached the Park from the upper side, 
 fully four hundred miles out of the direct road. This apparent impassability has been the germ from 
 which grew the marvelous stories told by western hunters and guides, and has made it, in the eyes 
 of the savages, an abode of evil spirits. 
 
 The expedition of Captain Jones, in the summer of 1873, demonstrated, however, that even 
 guides are not infallible, and that Prof. Hayden had unnecessarily lengthened his journey. The 
 Jones party broke camp at Fort Bridger, Wyoming, on June 12th, and proceeded in a north-easterly 
 direction as far as the Valley of the Popo Agie. There the explorers changed their route, proceed- 
 ing northwest to Two-Ocean Pass, and from thence north into the Yellowstone Basin. The most 
 important fact developed by this expedition is that a railroad is practicable through the Wind River 
 Valley across the foot-hills at the base of the Sierra Shoshone Mountains. The country at this 
 point is well watered and timbered, and the soil is very rich — features which distinguish it strongly 
 from the waste and barren regions that surround it. 
 
 The history of the discovery of this region is as follows : “In, 1870, some of the officials and 
 leading citizens of the territory of Montana organized the expedition known as the Hayden Expedi- 
 tion, which, accompanied by a small escort of cavalry, started from Fort Ellis, a frontier military 
 post, beyond which civilization did not then extend, and in thirty days explored the canons of the 
 Yellowstone Valley, and the shores of Yellowstone Lake ; then crossing the mountains to the head- 
 waters of the Madison, they visited the geyser regions of Firehole River, and ascended that stream 
 to its junction with the Madison, along whose valley they returned to civilization, confident that they 
 had seen the greatest wonders on the continent, and convinced that there was not on the globe an- 
 other region where, within the same limits, nature had crowded so much of grandeur and majesty 
 with so much of novelty and wonder.” 
 
 This does not seem to be an exaggerated estimate of the scenes which revealed themselves to 
 this and a second expedition which set out in the following year, led by Colonel Barlow, the chief 
 engineer, and under special orders from General Sheridan ; and starting, as the former expedition 
 had done, from Fort Ellis, ascended Gardiner’s River, and found themselves in a region of hot 
 springs, the deposits from which cover the hillsides with quaint samples of natural architecture, form- 
 ing a fitting introduction to the grander marvels of the valley. The deposit is snowy white, and has 
 the form of a frozen cascade. The springs now in active operation cover an area of one square mile, 
 while three or four miles are occupied by the remains of springs which have ceased to flow. These 
 
 springs had been overlooked by the former ex- 
 ploring party, so that they were actually first dis- 
 covered in 1871, and they have already become the 
 resort of many invalids, who speak highly of the 
 virtues of the waters. They are at a height of six 
 thousand feet above the sea ; and south of them 
 rises a domelike mountain two thousand feet higher, 
 whose summit commands a view of fifty miles in 
 every direction. From this summit the party 
 descended into the Yellowstone Valley, by a path 
 which combines every variety of beauty, boldness, 
 fertility, grandeur, and gloom ; and includes an 
 elevated plateau thirty miles in extent, dotted with 
 groves of pine and aspen, with numerous beauti- 
 ful little lakes scattered throughout its extent, and 
 many springs, which flow down the slopes, and are 
 lost in the vast volume of the Yellowstone. In 
 their passage over this plateau the party came to a 
 terrific rift — a preparation for the incomparable 
 awfulness of the Grand Canon, which lay before 
 them — a rift two thousand feet in depth, with the 
 river rolling in its deeps, over volcanic boulders, in 
 
 The Lower Canon. 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE YELLOWSTONE . 
 
 9 
 
 some places ; and in others, forming fathomless 
 still pools. Small cascades tumble at different 
 points from the rocky walls, and the river appears 
 from the lofty summits a mere ribbon of foam in 
 the immeasurable distance. “ Standing on the 
 brink of the chasm,” writes one of the party, “ the 
 heavy roaring of the imprisoned river comes to the 
 ear only in a sort of hollow, hungry growl, scarcely 
 audible from the depths. Everything beneath has 
 a weird and deceptive appearance. The water 
 does not look like water, but like oil. Numerous 
 fish-hawks are seen busily plying their vocation, 
 sailing high above the waters, and yet a thousand 
 feet below the spectator. In the clefts of the 
 rocks, hundreds of feet down, bald eagles have 
 their eyries, from which one can see them swooping 
 still farther into the depths, to rob the ospreys of 
 their hard-earned trout.” A grand, gloomy, terrible 
 place ; peopled with fantastic ideas, full of sha- 
 dows and turmoil. At the head of this canon is 
 the beautiful cataract which the explorers called 
 the Tower Falls, which, though its sheer fall is 
 four hundred feet, is so hidden away in the dim light of overshadowing rocks and woods, its very 
 voic ’ hushed to a low murmur, that men might pass within half a mile of it, and not dream of its 
 existence. 
 
 But not until the Grand Canon is reached are the wonder and the dread of the region to be 
 realized. Two of the explorers accomplished a descent into its fearful abyss at a point where the 
 chasm is one thousand one hundred and ninety feet deep. Their ascent was most perilous, but the 
 spectacle revealed to them was worth the risk. On entering the ravine, they came to hot springs of 
 sulphur, sulphate of copper, alum, steam-jets in endless variety, some of them of very peculiar form. 
 One of them, that of sulphur, had built up a tall spire, standing out from the slope of the wall like 
 an enormous horn, with hot water trickling down its sides. They descended the channel of the creek 
 for three miles, and were now one thousand five hundred feet below the brink, and after four hours 
 of hard toil, reached the bottom of the gulf, and the margin of the Yellowstone, where they found 
 the water warm, and tasting of alum and sulphur. The river-margin is lined with all kinds of chem- 
 ical springs, some depositing craters of calcareous rock, others mudd ) , black, blue, or reddish water. 
 “ The internal heat,” says Lieutenant Doane, “ renders the atmosphere oppressive, though a strong 
 breeze drives through the canon. A frying sound comes constantly to the ear, mingled with the rush 
 of the current. We had come down the ravine at least four miles, and looking upward, the fearful 
 wall appeared to reach the sky. It was 3 p. m. and stars could be distinctly seen, so much of the 
 sunlight was cut off from entering the chasm. Tall pines on the extreme verge appeared the height 
 of two or three feet. The total depth is probably three thousand feet. There are perhaps other 
 canons longer and deeper than this one, but surely none combining grandeur and immensity with 
 such peculiarity of formation and profusion of volcanic or chemical phenomena.” The geologist of 
 the party, Dr. Hayden, thus reads the history of this tremendous chasm : “ Ages ago, this whole 
 region was the basin of an immense lake. Then it became a centre of volcanic activity ; a vast 
 quantity of lava was erupted, which, cooling under water, took the form of basalt ; volumes of vol- 
 canic ash and rock fragments were thrown out of the craters from time to time, forming breccia as 
 it sunk through the water and mingled with the deposits from silicious springs. Over this were 
 spread the later deposits from the waters of the old lake. In time the country was slowly elevated, 
 and the lake was drained away. The easily eroded breccia along the river channel was cut out 
 deeper and deeper as the ages passed ; while springs, and creeks, and the falling rain combined to 
 carve the sides of the canon into the fantastic forms they now present, by wearing away the softer 
 rock, and leaving the hard basalt and the firmer hot spring deposits standing in massive columns and 
 Gothic pinnacles. The basis material of the old hot spring deposits in silica, originally white as 
 snow, are now stained by mineral waters with every shade of red and yellow — from scarlet to rose 
 
 The Grand Canon. 
 
IO 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 color, from bright sulphur to the daintiest tint of cream. When the light falls on these blended 
 tints, the Grand Canon presents a more enchanting and bewildering variety of forms and colors than 
 human artist ever conceived.” 
 
 Awful as it is to look upwards from the depths of the Grand Canon, it is infinitely more so to 
 gaze downwards from its terrific verge. From the silent horror of the effort, the strong brave men 
 of the exploring party shrank in agony, crawling backward from the edge in undisguised terror, and 
 hardly able to realize their safety. 
 
 The grandeur of the canon is at once 
 heightened and diversified by the mag- 
 nitude and beauty of its Upper and 
 Lower Falls ; the latter are especially 
 striking. The sh^.t of ^vater falls sheer 
 three hundred ?"d fifty feet (with a like 
 height of tLrr bU wall Rising above it), 
 in one unbroxen symmetrical expanse, 
 covered with whfite foar0, while rainbows 
 are formed in the spray from almost every 
 point of view ; ^and the steep roc'ks near, 
 constantly wet with rising mist, are cov- 
 ered with bright green vegetation. The 
 Upper and Lower Falls are only a quarter 
 of a mile apart, the former turning over a 
 precipice one hundred and fifty feet high. 
 The scene at the Lower Falls is grandly 
 beautiful. On either sicfe the walls of 
 the canon rise to a height of nearly a 
 thousand feet,- while fad-below the turbid 
 waters of the stream writhe and eddy 
 along their winding course. Mountain 
 pines cover the steep banks, while here 
 and there the withered trunk of a dead 
 tree extends its white form over the foam- 
 ing waters. You can not approach with- 
 in a hundred yards of the Falls without 
 becoming thoroughly drenched by the 
 continual shower of snowy spray. Far 
 below the Canon continues, seemingly a 
 great fissure that was rent in the solid 
 rock during some volcanic convulsion, 
 leaving on either side the jagged walls of 
 granite and basalt. 
 
 The three principal lakes in the Park are the Yellowstone, Mystic and Shadow. The shape of 
 Yellowstone Lake is exceedingly irregular, and one is constantly surprised at coming suddenly upon 
 broad bays and inlets that extend far into the land. Of this lovely sheet of water, which has, in eleva - 
 tion, but one rival, the South American lake Titicaca, the engineer-in-chief of the Hayden (1870) 
 party, thus eloquently writes : “ Secluded amid the loftiest peaks of the Rocky Mountains, possess- 
 ing strange peculiarities of form and beauty, this watery solitude is one of the most attractive natural 
 objects in the world. Its southern shore, indented with long narrow inlets, not unlike the frequent 
 fiords of Iceland, bears testimony to the awful upheaval and tumultuous force of the elements which 
 resulted in its creation. The long pine-crowned promontories, stretching into it from the base ol 
 the hills, lend new and charming features to an aquatic scene full of novelty and splendor. Islands 
 of emerald hue dot its surface, and a margin of sparkling sand forms its jeweled setting. The winds, 
 compressed in their passage through the mountain gorges, lash it into a sea as terrible as the fretted 
 ocean, covering it with foam.” But it lay before the explorers, when they saw it first, calm and 
 unruffled, the most beautiful object which their toilsome journey had revealed. No fish save trout 
 live in its waters, but they arc thronged with waterfowl ; great fleets of white swans and pelican sail 
 
 Crystal Falls. 
 
over its bosom, and 
 crowd its islets. 
 The great river 
 flows away from it 
 in a deep and easy 
 channel, a quarter 
 of a mile wide ; 
 its superficial area 
 is three hundred 
 square miles . 1 The 
 Lake gives the 
 strongest geologi- 
 cal evidence of hav- 
 ing been, at some 
 remote period, a 
 great inland sea. 
 It is fed by, the 
 mountain snows, 
 and Prof. Hayden 
 reports that his 
 deepest soundings 
 were at three hun- 
 dred feet. The wa- 
 ter is a shade be- 
 tween dark green 
 and blue. 
 
 The descriptions 
 given by Professor 
 Hayden, Captain 
 Jones, Langford, 
 Stevens and others 
 who have been con- 
 nected with vari- 
 ous exploring par- 
 ties, glow with en- 
 thusiasm. They 
 speak in the warm- 
 est language of the 
 grandeur of this 
 remarkable region. 
 Springs are most 
 abundant, and 
 sometimes hun- 
 dreds can be found 
 within the com- 
 pass of a few rods, 
 and hot and cold 
 springs are often 
 seen within a few 
 feet of each other. 
 “ The mountains 
 are Gothic pala- 
 ces, with twelve or 
 fifteen feet ter- 
 races, thousands 
 of times larger 
 
12 
 
 THE HUDSON RIVER A T WEST POINT. 
 
 than any ever attempted by human hands ; cathedrals, some with numerous minarets; enormous 
 castles pitched on the higher hills, which are shaped perfectly like cones, and densely covered with 
 forests of pine, giving their slopes a beautiful green color that contrasts strikingly with the brown 
 tops ; walled gateways from below curved up to the summit ; pavilions surmounting the smaller hills 
 and looking like delightful summer resorts ; fortifications around the bases, arranged sometimes in 
 series, one above the other ; one gigantic and perfectly shaped pyramid, excelling vastly the famous 
 ones of Egypt — all shaped out of dark-brown metamorphic sand and limestone.” 
 
 That portion of the Valley of the Yellowstone which has been set aside for a National Park 
 comprises about 3,500 square miles of territory near the head-waters of the river that gives the region 
 its name. Our attempt at description may be briefly summarized : There are vast gloomy canons 
 through whose gorges rush the waters of numerous mountain streams ; walls of basaltic rock and 
 granite rising in wild grandeur to the height of many hundreds of feet ; placid lakes whose waters 
 present for miles on miles surfaces of glassy smoothness, in strange contrast with the chaotic 
 scenes around them ; wonderful springs that send up unceasingly volumes of gray mud, and geysers 
 and glaciers that surpass those of Iceland. These form a panorama of physical marvels that will be 
 interesting alike to the scientist and the tourist. What Mont Blanc and the Alps have been to the 
 pleasure-seekers of the Old World, the Yellowstone Valley will be to those of the New. Its rugged 
 magnificence will be a never-failing source of inspiration for painter and poet, and when civilization 
 has built cities and marts of trade in the Western wilds that are now but thinly settled, and a thor- 
 ough system of communication has been established between the Eastern sea-ports and all parts of 
 our broad land toward the National Park, wanderers from all over the world will turn their faces 
 hitherward to view Nature in her grandest shrine* 
 
 THE HUDSON RIVER AT WEST POINT. 
 
 S INCE the time when Hendrick Hudson first sailed up the broad stream that bears his name, it 
 has been a river of romance. The graceful prose of Irving has bestowed fame upon the Head- 
 less Horseman and the sleepy good-for-naught Rip Van Winkle, and many poetic recollections 
 cluster about the quiet waters and picturesque banks. The river flows through landscapes of varied 
 beauty, and on either side, as far as the eye can reach, the dark outlines of the Kaatskills and High- 
 lands loom up. The bosom of the stream is dotted with the white sails of yachts and pleasure-boats, 
 and its silence is often broken by the steady paddle-stroke of the stately steamboats that ply be- 
 tween the towns and cities on its shores. Our artist has taken as his subject for illustration the most 
 beautiful and historically the most interesting portion of the river — West Point in the Highlands. 
 
 The history of the spot on which the famous military academy stands is very romantic. Its 
 natural strength made it a valuable site for a fortress, and the Continental Congress ordered the 
 erection of Fort Putnam at a point 598 feet above the level of the river, commanding a view of the 
 surrounding country for many miles. An approach from the Hudson was made well nigh impossible 
 by an almost perpendicular wall of rock, while on the western and south-western side the steep hills 
 formed a strong barrier. A small force could hold the position for a long time against an enemy 
 much superior. Above the fort, on a higher plateau, Fort Clinton and the other fortifications were 
 built, forming altogether one of the most formidable strongholds in the world. 
 
 That this important point came near being treacherously surrendered to the British in 1780, is a 
 familiar fact to readers of American history. It was in command of Benedict Arnold, a man whose 
 dissipation had plunged him deeply into debt, and who was ready to betray his trust for the double 
 purpose of replenishing his purse and gratifying his private revenge. It is well known how nearly 
 he succeeded, and how finally he failed. Major Andre, whom he was to meet to perfect the arrange- 
 ments for the delivery of the fortress, was captured by three American soldiers, and the plot was 
 discovered. 
 
 Washington was to have made a visit of inspection to Fort Putnam and the other redoubts on 
 this side the river, only two or three hours before his discovery of the treason of Arnold, at that 
 moment as he supposed in command at West Point. The commander-in-chief was expected to 
 
VIEW OF THE HUDSON FROM THE VICINITY OF WEST-POINT. 
 
H 
 
 THE NA TURAL BRIDGE IN VIRGINIA. 
 
 arrive the evening before, and had he done so, Arnold would probably never have escaped. Having 
 accidentally met the French minister, M. de Lucerne, at Fishkill, however (eight miles above), he 
 was induced to pass the night there for the purpose of some conference, and set off early in the morn- 
 ing on horseback, sending on a messenger to Mrs. Arnold that himself and suite would be with her 
 to breakfast. Arriving opposite West Point, near a small redoubt called Fort Constitution, Washing- 
 ton turned his horse from the road. Lafayette, who was then in his suite, called out, “ General, you 
 are going in the wrong direction ; you know Mrs. Arnold is waiting breakfast for us.” “ Ah,” 
 answered Washington, “ I know you young men are all in love with Mrs. Arnold, and wish to get 
 where she is as soon as possible. Go and take your breakfast with her, and tell her not to wait for 
 me : I must ride down and examine the redoubts on this side the river.” Two of the aides rode on, 
 found breakfast waiting, and sat down at once with General Arnold and his family. While they 
 were at table, a messenger came in with a letter for Arnold, which announced the capture of Andre, 
 and the failure and betrayal, of course, of the whole conspiracy. Showing little or no emotion, though 
 his life hung upon a thread, he merely said to one of his aides that his presence was required at 
 West Point ; and, leaving word for General Washington that he was called over the river, but would 
 return immediately, he ordered a horse and sent for Mrs. Arnold to her chamber. He then infr ned 
 her abruptly that they must part, possibly forever, and that his life depended on his reaching the 
 enemy’s lines without delay. Struck with h,orror at this intelligence, she swooned and fell senseless. 
 In that state he left her, hurried down stairs, mounted a horse belonging to one of his aides that 
 stood saddled at the door, and rode with all" speed to the bank of the river. A boat with six men 
 was in waiting ; and, pretending that he was going with a flag of truce, he pulled down the stream, 
 and arrived safe on board the Vulture sloop-of-war, lying some miles below. * * * Andre was 
 
 carried to headquarters, and, after a military trial, was executed, notwithstanding the strenuous 
 efforts of the British authorities to save him. Arnold served for a while in the enemy’s army. At 
 the close of the war he went to Europe, where he died in obscurity, shunned by those to whom he 
 had so basely sold his honor. 
 
 The national military academy was established by Act of Congress in 1S02. It is supported by 
 the Government, and the cadets are under no expense for tuition or maintenance ; but they are 
 required to serve in the regular army for a term of years after graduation. The appointments are 
 made by Congressmen, and the candidates for admission must be between the ages of sixteen and 
 twenty-one. The course of study, which is full and thorough in all that relates to a military educa- 
 tion, requires five years for completion. The academy buildings are erected on a plain nearly two 
 hundred feet above the Hudson, and cover an area a mile in circuit. In addition, there is ample space 
 for the practice of gunnery, and the necessary military evolutions. The impression that cadets studied 
 at West Point as a stepping-stone to some other profession seems to have obtained credence abroad. 
 How erroneous was this opinion may be seen from the remarks of a distinguished European critic 
 who has recently enquired into the subject, and who says: “ The point which above all others must 
 strike an observer is the extremely stern military spirit which pervades the whole discipline and 
 teaching. The course is not only longer than at European colleges maintained for similar objects, 
 but is probably more strict and exacting than that of any on the other side ot the Atlantic.” 
 
 For many years West Point was considered a useless expense by the people, and newly elected 
 Representatives were wont to make the system of educating what they called “ military snobs,’ the 
 subject of their maiden speeches in the House ; but the war with Mexico, and especially the war 
 of the Rebellion, gave ample testimony of its value. Gens. Scott, Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, Mit- 
 chell, and many other prominent Union generals graduated there, and the rebel leaders Lee, Pem- 
 berton, Stonewall Jackson, and Johnson, also received from the National Government the military 
 knowledge that enabled them to conduct their armies so well. 
 
 THE NATURAL BRIDGE IN VIRGINIA. 
 
 B EFORE the division of Virginia during the late war, Rockbridge county was one of the cen- 
 tral counties of the State. It received its name from the famous bridge that lies within its 
 confines, with the exception of which remarkable natural curiosity, it contains no attractions for a 
 tourist other than well-cultivated fields and a prosperous farming population. 
 

 
 IP 1 
 
 mwv/, 
 
 WwSKkm 
 
 
 
 WzMV/ 
 
 
 
 THE NATURAL BRIDGE, VIRGINIA. 
 
i6 
 
 THE NATURAL BRIDGE IN VIRGINIA. 
 
 From the middle of the eighteenth century the Natural Bridge has divided, with Niagara Falls, 
 the wonder and admiration of travelers from Europe who have come to view the sublime creations of 
 Nature in the Western World. It spans Cedar Creek, a small stream nearly dry in summer which 
 flows into the James River, and it is apparently a solid rock in the form of an arch. The distance from 
 the water to the nether side of the arch is about two hundred feet, and from that point to the upper 
 side, forty feet ; thus making the height of the bridge two hundred and forty feet. The chasm 
 crossed by it is ninety feet wide. 
 
 The physical causes that combined to form this stupendous structure have been the subject of 
 much discussion among scientific men. The Marquis de Chastellux, a French gentleman of distin- 
 guished attainments, who visited the Bridge in 1781, thus describes it : 
 
 “ It is at the foot of these rocks, on the edge of a little stream which flows under this immense 
 arch, that we must judge of its astonishing structure. There we discover its immense spurs, its 
 back-bendings, and those profiles which architecture might have given it. The arch is not complete ; 
 the eastern part of it not being so large as the western, because the mountain is more elevated on 
 this than on the opposite side. It is very extraordinary that at the bottom of the stream there ap- 
 pear no considerable ruins, no trace of any violent laceration which could have destroyed the kernel 
 of the rock and have left the upper part alone subsisting ; for that is the only hypothesis that can 
 account for such a prodigy. We can have no possible recourse either to a volcano or a deluge, no 
 trace of a sudden conflagration or of a slow and tedious undermining by the water.” 
 
 From the description of the Baron de Turpin, a distinguished French engineer, who made the 
 Bridge an object of special study, and who has Written much on the subject, we subjoin the following : 
 “ The mass o.f rock and stone which loads this arch,” says the baron, “ is forty-nine feet solid on 
 the key of the great centre, and thirty-seven on that of the small one ; and, as we find about the 
 same difference in taking the level of the hill, it may be supposed that the roof is on a level the 
 whole length of the key. It is proper to observe that the live rock continues also the whole thickness 
 of the arch, and that on the opposite side it is only twenty-five feet wide in its greatest breadth, and 
 becomes gradually narrower. The whole arch seems to be formed of one and the same stone ; for 
 the joints which one remarks are the effect of lightning, which struck this part in 1779. The other 
 head has not the smallest vein, and the intrados is so smooth that the martins, which fly around it in 
 great numbers, cannot fasten on it. The abutments, which have a gentle slope, are entire, and, 
 without being absolute planes, have all the polish which a current of water would give to unhewn 
 stone in a certain time. The four rocks adjacent to the abutments seem to be perfectly homogene- 
 ous, and to have a very trifling slope. The two rocks on the right bank of the rivulet are two hun- 
 dred feet high above the surface of the water, the intrados of the arch a hundred and fifty, and the 
 two rocks on the left bank a hundred and eighty 
 
 “We see that these rocks, being of a calcareous nature, exclude every idea of a volcano, which, 
 besides, cannot be reconciled with the form of the bridge and its adjacent parts. If it be supposed 
 that this astonishing arch is the effect of a current of water, we must suppose, likewise, that this 
 current has had the force to break down and carry to a great distance a mass of five thousand cubic 
 fathoms, for there remains not the slightest trace of such an operation.” 
 
 The Baron de Turpin’s scientific attainments were of so high an order that his opinions are 
 always entitled to attention and respect ; but it will be observed that he agrees neither with the 
 elaborate scientific opinions that have been advanced in favor of the theory that it is the effect ot 
 some natural convulsion, nor with the popular conclusion that it was caused by the action ot water 
 through long ages, wearing away the fimestone of which it is formed. Yet the Baron had himself 
 no better theory to advance. The Bridge has also been visited by other European savans, but none 
 of them have been more successful in their attempts at the elucidation of this natural wonder. 
 
 The bridge first became generally known in consequence of the enthusiastic admiration expressed 
 by President Jefferson, who proclaimed its beauties in extravagant terms, and attracted much atten- 
 tion to it. It had been previously visited, however, by several noted Frenchmen, who had written 
 eloquent descriptions of its magnitude and grandeur. 
 
 Like most places of similar interest, the Natural Bridge has its traditions. Far up on its rugged 
 face are cut the initials of General Washington, and above his are those of an adventurous youth 
 who nearly lost his life through his foolhardy determination to place his name above all that had 
 been cut there before. By far the finest view of the bridge is that from its base. Standing there 
 and looking up at its rough uneven sides, one has an opportunity to estimate its real magnitude. 
 
TRENTON HIGH FALLS, NEW YORK. 
 
 i7 
 
 Cedar Creek flows along so quietly that even the suspicion that it was once a roaring torrent, with 
 force sufficient to cut through the vast rock that now hangs over it, seems ridiculous. The distance 
 makes the overhanging trees at the top look like diminutive bushes, while the shrubs that grow from 
 the ledges and clefts are scarcely apparent, except in places where they grow thickly, and then they 
 have the appearance of grass or moss on the face of the rock. The view from the top to the creek 
 below is almost painful, and few can gaze down without becoming dizzy. 
 
 There is a tradition of an English officer who, in 1762, attempted to scale the Bridge. He had 
 visited the place with a party of friends, and notwithstanding their repeated expostulations and 
 warnings he persisted in the venture. He divested himself of his coat and hat, and then, gayly 
 bidding his comrades meet him on the top of the bridge, he began the ascent. By the aid of the 
 bushes and the clefts in the rocks he succeeded in climbing to a ledge one hundred and eighty feet 
 from the base. Here his courage failed him, for the rock above was fatally regular for nearly fifteen 
 feet, and there were no bushes whose roots were imbedded in the stone with sufficient strength to 
 support his weight. Terrified at his danger he began to descend ; but he had proceeded only a few 
 feet when he lost his hold through dizziness, and was dashed to the bottom, in full view of his horror- 
 stricken friends. 
 
 Our illustration of the Bridge was taken in the spring of the year when the melting of the snow 
 and the unusual rain-fall had given Cedar Creek a volume of water it does not at other times possess. 
 As before stated, during the summer, or after a continuance of dry weather, the Creek is nearly dry. 
 
 TRENTON HIGH FALLS, NEW YORK. 
 
 T HERE is no State in the Union that presents a greater variety of attractive scenery than New 
 York. The Hudson, the Highlands, the Catskills and the Adirondacks are in the east and 
 north-east ; Onondaga, Cayuga, Oneida, Mahopac, Chatauqua, Seneca, Owasco, and numerous smaller 
 lakes extend through the central and northern sections ; Erie and Ontario lie on the Canada boundary, 
 and that famous natural curiosity, Niagara Falls, is in the north-west. It is, perhaps, owing to this 
 abundance of noteworthy scenery that the Trenton High Falls in Oneida county are so little known 
 and so much neglected, although there are two large and growing cities in the same county, Rome 
 and Utica, and a great railroad passes within a few miles of the place. These Falls are second in 
 interest only to the Falls of Niagara. They were known to the Indians by the name of Cayoharie, 
 and are formed by the descent of a considerable stream called West Canada Creek, through a 
 ravine of singular formation. Like all mountain streams, the creek is often swollen to a swift and 
 muddy torrent by high rains and spring snows, and runs during the early months of the year over a 
 succession of rocky ledges, falling from one to another to the depth of forty or fifty feet, the whole 
 forming a continuous chain of picturesque cascades. The appearance of the creek has changed 
 somewhat since its first discovery. The constant action of the water has worn through the strata 
 that enclose it, and has materially widened the bed of the stream. Of course, the best time to see 
 the falls is in the spring of the year, but unfortunately at that period they are least accessible. The 
 city of Rome is, however, only fourteen miles distant, and the tourist can choose a fine day to make 
 his visit and be back in town in the evening. The great difficulty lies in traversing the roads. The 
 melted snow runs down from the hills in numberless rivulets, and the mixture of mud and slush 
 underfoot interferes with the pleasure of exploring even the most romantic scenery. Those who 
 desire to thoroughly enjoy the beauties of this picturesque spot should make their head-quarters 
 at the hotel — a very good one — to be found near the Falls. 
 
 Cascades of marvelous beauty are not a rarity in American scenery ; but it is believed that 
 Trenton Gorge has not its counterpart on the continent, at least it has no rival in sublimity on this 
 side of the Rocky Mountains. It is not a mere waterfall or series of waterfalls. It is a gigantic 
 millrace running for three miles between walls of solid rock, Nature’s masonry, twice as high as 
 Trinity steeple, and in many places almost as perpendicular. Through this gorge run the waters of 
 West Canada Creek : now corkscrewing their way through a rocky path, water hewn ; now precipi- 
 tating themselves by a series of cascades into an amphitheatre whose rugged sides of rock are 
 clothed in leafy green ; now flowing in a rapid stream over a bed as smooth, and composed of stones 
 
1 8 
 
 TRENTON HIGH FALLS, NEW YORK. 
 
 as regular and rectangular as those of a city sidewalk ; now pouring over a rocky dam so straight 
 and formal that you instinctively look for a sawmill at its base ; now leaping down a two-storied cas- 
 cade in a series of falls whose wondrous variety of beauty is beyond the power of pen or pencil to 
 describe ; now darting over a bed of rough rocks which throw it into foam and eddies and waves 
 that are like a miniature surf ; now gathering all its volume into one concentrated column and 
 plunging through a narrow gap, beating like a gigantic trip-hammer on the rocky bed beneath ; 
 finally to hurry swirled and twisted and writhed into innumerable forms through a narrow defile, to 
 issue at last in a deep and to the eye an unfathomable pool of treacherous calm at the very edge 
 and mouth of the stony chasm. The gorge is to-day almost exactly what it was when the Indians 
 hunted in these forests and fished in these pools. There is here and there a chain fastened into the 
 rocks to help those of unsteady head or careless feet along the narrowest pathways in the rock. 
 Once we mount a wooden staircase to get around the High Falls. For the rest we might easily 
 imagine ourselves in a desolate wild. Civilization has done its utmost to ruin Niagara. It has only 
 rendered Trenton Gorge accessible. 
 
 Sherman Falls, one of the cascades forming Trenton Falls, furnishes an interesting instance of 
 the action of water upon solid rock. Far back in distant ages, before even the Indians had dis- 
 covered it, the water, hindered in its course b r some obstacle, made here a detour and leaped across 
 the chasm at right angles to its present course. It cut a large amphitheatre in the solid rock upon 
 this side, along which the narrow pathway now runs, and leaping down struck the opposite bank 
 with such prodigious force as to cut a great chasm in the rocks thirty-eight feet in depth, which 
 remains to attest its power in times past, xt has since cut a clearage in the edge of the precipice 
 which before turned it from its straightforward course, and pours through this chasm in one huge 
 pillar of amber water like a gigantic waterspout inverted. The thunder is heaviest here ; the walls 
 rise highest ; the blow upon blow of the great water column are most ponderous ; and here, right 
 athwart the spray that rises in perpetual incense filling the amphitheatre, trembles and dances a 
 rainbow, now in perfect span, now in evanescent fragments, the most fragile and the most exquisite 
 thing in nature. How marvelously this rainbow, by its very contrast, intensifies the impression pro- 
 duced by the thunder of the irresistible waters, and the massive strength of the impenetrable rocks, 
 can hardly be described. Like all great artists, learners in her school, Nature delights in just such 
 strong contrasts. 
 
 At the point in the Falls where the greatest volume of water descends, the rocky walls on either 
 side are much nearer each other than at othx.r places, giving the fall at a distance the appearance of 
 water rushing through a great flood-gate. The waters rush along with an impetuous and unnecessary 
 haste that is thoroughly American — every drop is unmistakably native-born. The walls are almost 
 perpendicular below the Falls, and in many places the sky is scarcely visible from the banks of the 
 creek. There is a ladder built from the base of the great cataract to the plateau above it, and 
 tourists can climb up and view the falls at the spot where the first descent begins. The spectacle 
 here witnessed is more than compensation for the exertion. Near the shore the water forms in 
 whirls and eddies, perpetually changing its hues in the strong sunlight, while further out the torrent 
 rushes over its inclining bed to the edge of the precipice, taking with it every now and then a huge 
 tree that has been torn from its roots far up in the mountains and carrying it like an arrow over the fall. 
 The colors on the trees, the rising mist, the foam here, the amber there of the water, tints of rain- 
 bows that come and go upon the spray, and the song of the wild waters — complete a landscape that, 
 for romance, has few equals. 
 
 The other places of interest are the Alhambra Fall, the head of the ravine through which the 
 Kanata flows, Bora’s Bridge Fall, and the singular formations in the rocky banks known as Rocky 
 Heart and Jacob’s Well. The descriptions given by visitors to this spot, and the fact that it is on 
 the direct route from Buffalo and Niagara, are helping to make it better known and more popular. 
 
 Oneida county, in which the Falls are situated, is a prosperous and well-to-do section ot the State. 
 One of its chief industries is the cultivation of hops, and its fine grazing facilities give encouragement 
 to the raising of cattle and horses. The Oneida Community owns a large section ot land in the 
 county, and visitors to the Falls may thus have an opportunity also of observing the ways ot this 
 peculiar social organization, 
 
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 PANORAMA OF TRENTON FALLS. 
 
20 
 
 SQUAM LAKE.— THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 SOUAM LAKE. 
 
 ANIEL Webster said long ago that New Hampshire was a good State to emigrate from, but 
 
 this does not change the fact that it is a very popular place to summer in, its mountains and 
 lakes having thousands of visitors every year. Squam Lake is in a north-westerly direction from 
 Lake Winnipiseogee, between Carroll and Grafton counties, and has an area of about thirty square 
 miles. Its shores are very picturesque, and, in many places, rocky and mountainous. Our illustra- 
 tion will, perhaps, call to some of our readers, the memory of happy moments spent among the 
 Hampshire hills, far away from the bustle of city life. 
 
 A lake whose surroundings are wild and uncultivated is best seen in the autumn, and we quote 
 from the work of an enthusiastic traveler a description of Squam Lake at that season of the year : 
 
 “ The first severe frost had come, and the miraculous change had passed upon the leaves which 
 is known only in America. The blood-red sugar maple, with a leaf brighter and more delicate than 
 a Circassian lip, stood here and there in the forest like the sultan’s standard in a host — the solitary 
 and far-seen aristocrat of the wilderness ; the birch, with its spirit-like and amber leaves, ghosts of 
 the departed summer, turned out along the edges of the wood like a lining of the palest gold ; the 
 broad sycamore and the fan-like catalpa flaunted their saffron foliage in the sun, spotted with gold 
 like the wings of a lady-bird ; the kingly oak, with its summit shaken bare, still hid its majestic 
 trunk in a drapery of sumptuous leaves, like a stricken monarch, gathering his robe of state about 
 him to die royally in his purple ; the tall poplar, with its minaret of silver leaves, stood blanched 
 like a coward in the dying forest, burdening every breeze with its complainings ; the hickory paled 
 through its enduring green ; the bright berries of the mountain ash, flushed with a more sanguine 
 glory in the unobstructed sun ; the gaudy tulip-tree, the sybarite of vegetation, stripped of its 
 golden cups, still drank the intoxicating light of noonday in leaves than which the lip of an Indian 
 shell was never more delicately tinted ; the still deeper dyed vines of the lavish wilderness, perish- 
 ing with the noble things whose summer they had shared.” 
 
 This is only the forest — the background of the picture, in the foreground lies the lake, its 
 waves glittering like sunlit steel, or changing into all the colors of the rainbow under the glow of the 
 evening sun. Here and there are islands, varying much in size, some being no larger than a tea- 
 table, while in appearance they are equally dissimilar, although all are covered by the most 
 luxuriant vegetation. 
 
 To summer visitors Squam Lake has no ordinary attractions. The White Mountains are not far 
 away, and Lake Winnipiseogee, called by the Indians “ The Smile of God,” is also a pleasant point 
 for a day’s jaunt. Boating, of course, is one of the first amusements. A morning sail on the beauti- 
 ful lake is full of enjoyment. The distant mountains, with the ever-changeful forms of mist around 
 their summits, the trees leaning over the banks of the lake, here and there a diminutive harbor, in 
 which the water is so clear and transparent that the bottom, covered with white and yellow pebbles, 
 can be seen — all these combine to form a varied panorama. A storm on the lake is, however, a 
 matter of more importance than would be supposed from its size. The wind blows a perfect hurri- 
 cane, and the fog and clouds are so dark, that it is difficult to see a clear course ahead. Its 
 proximity to the sea gives it the full force of the winds from the ocean. These are drawbacks, 
 experienced fortunately only in unfavorable weather. 
 
 HL White Mountain range consists of eleven peaks, viz. : Mounts Washington, Clay, Jefferson, 
 
 Adams, Madison, Webster, Jackson, Clinton, Pleasant, Franklin, and Monroe. Of these 
 Mount Washington is the highest, having an elevation of 6,293 feet. The Indian name for these 
 mountains was “ Agiocochook ” which signifies “ the place of the Spirit of the Great Forest,” or, 
 according to Judge Potter, “ the place of the Storm Spirit.” They derive their English name from 
 the fact that for ten months of the year their peaks are white with snow. Owing to the large num- 
 ber of tourists who visit the White Mountains every summer, it has become profitable to cut new 
 roads, and level and grade old ones, so that now the ascent of the mountains is attended only with 
 
 fHE WHITE MOUNTAINS. 
 
SQUAM LAKE, NEW 
 
22 
 
 THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 fatigue and, if perchance a shower should come on, a little discomfort. The principal point of inter- 
 est to the visitor lies in the ascent of Mount Washington. There are several routes to the summit, 
 but the most popular one is from the Glen. 
 
 A drive of eight miles from the village of Gorham along the Peabody River will take the visitor 
 to the Glen House, which stands on a plateau about 830 feet above the Gorham valley. The Glen 
 House is on the lowest ridge of the hill that rises opposite to Mount Washington, which, as its name 
 indicates, stands head and shoulders above the other summits — having no peer. Madison and 
 Monroe come next on the left, and then Jefferson, who appears higher than he is. In a line with 
 Mount Washington on the other side are Adams, Clay, &c. Jefferson’s head seems modeled after a 
 European pattern. It runs up to a sharp point, and wants but accumulated masses of ice to be 
 broken into Alpine angles. 
 
 The distance from the base of the mountain at the Glen to its summit is eight miles, and a car- 
 riage road runs to the very top of the mountain. This road was commenced in 1855 by a chartered 
 corporation under the management of D. O. Macomber, and was finished as far as the Ledge, about 
 four miles from its base, in 1856. The road was not completed until the summer of 1861. Its 
 average grade is twelve feet in one hundred, and 'its steepest grade is sixteen and a half feet in a 
 hundred. The bridle path ascends the mountain in a direct line, while the carriage road winds 
 around the Ledge and up the side, making the distance nearly double. Between the base and the 
 Ledge the road is cut mainly through the forest, and affords no views of mountain scenery, but after 
 this portion of the journey has been passed it runs along the very edge of a deep ravine that divides 
 Mount Washington from Mounts Clay and Jefferson, and the traveler for the rest of the way may 
 enjoy the imposing scenery at its best. 
 
 The path rises over a series of receding plateaus, each of which seems to be the summit as one 
 looks up from below, and it is on account of this feature that Mount Washington fails to show its 
 real height until one is far enough away to obtain a full view of its whole outline. 
 
 From Eastman’s work on the White Mountains we take an account of the tragic termination of 
 three attempts to reach the summit before the present roads were built : “ During the last part of 
 the ascent one will see the pile of stones that marks the spot where Miss Bourne, of Kennebunk, 
 Me., died near midnight, in September 1855, and where her uncle and cousin kept sad watch until 
 dawn. They started in the afternoon, without a guide, to walk to the summit. Night and fog over- 
 took them, and the young lady perished in the chill and darkness among the rocks, but a few rods 
 from the house they were in search of. Quite near, also, is the shelving rock, beneath which the 
 remains of an elderly gentleman from Wilmington, Del., were found in July, 1857. He had attempted 
 to ascend the mountain alone, one afternoon in August of the year before, and must have been over- 
 taken by storm, cold and darkness, when near the summit. His watch and some bank-bills in his 
 vest pocket were found uninjured ; though most of the body, and even part of the skeleton, were 
 gone. A little further below, and at the left of the descending path, the ledge is visible where Dr. 
 Benjamin Ball, of Boston, passed two nights in the snow and sleet of an October storm, alone and 
 without food or covering. He was rescued when nature was about sinking. His feet were frozen 
 and he could not speak. How his life was preserved in such exposure is a marvel. It is equally 
 remarkable that, though his feet were severely frozen, they were saved.” 
 
 Arriving at the top of the mountain the mind recoils within itself through the impotence of its 
 efforts to grasp the infinite and illimitable ideas suggested by the vastness of the scene. The sum- 
 mit of Mount Washington is six thousand two hundred and ninety-three leet above the level of the 
 sea, being the highest point in the United States east of the Mississippi, except some peaks among 
 the Black Mountains in North Carolina, which overtop it by six or seven hundred feet. The 
 summit is entirely bare of vegetation, a vast stone heap, rugged and wild, but too regularly shaped 
 for picturesqueness or sublimity. There has recently been erected here a railroad depot. The 
 view from the apex commands the full circle of the horizon, and Mount Washington appears as an 
 island surrounded by a tumultuous ocean of blue hills. But the adjacent peaks, jagged and bare, 
 divided by valleys of stupendous depth, are yet the most impressive features of the grand pano- 
 rama. 
 
 A horizon of nearly six hundred miles bounds the prospect. “ In the immediate neighborhood, 
 but far below, lie on one side Mounts Clinton, Pleasant, Monroe, and Franklin ; on the other Jeffer- 
 son, Adams, and Madison. On the east and west, openings are visible through which rivers, taking 
 their rise in the mountains, wind their way along the valleys to the lowlands. Far in the distance. 
 
SILVER CASCADE, CRAWFORD’S NOTCH. 
 
THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 chains of hills and mountains, distinct in outline and beautiful in form, arise on all sides, and these 
 are still overtopped by those beyond whose blue summits mingle with the sky, and bound the glori- 
 ous picture. Far to the south, the silvery waters of Lake Winnipiseogee set, as it were, in a frame- 
 work of hills, encounter the eye and relieve and contrast the sombre majesty of the mountains. On 
 
 the west the Green 
 Mountains of Ver- 
 mont, and on the 
 east the mountains 
 of Maine skirt the 
 horizon and seem 
 to support the sky.” 
 The summit of 
 Mt. Washington 
 consists of about 
 an acre and a half 
 of irregular rock, 
 containing scarce- 
 ly a smooth spot. 
 There were for- 
 merly two hotels 
 A there — the Tip- 
 
 3 Top House and 
 
 3 the Summit House 
 
 2 — but they have 
 
 ^ been consolidated. 
 
 Q 
 
 5 Those who desire 
 "g to see all the di- 
 
 * versity of scenery 
 
 •gj which the White 
 
 J Mountains afford 
 
 « would do well to 
 
 a 
 
 ^ make, from this 
 
 g point, for Craw- 
 
 || ford’s Notch ; in 
 
 that respect fol- 
 lowing the exam- 
 ple of the writer, 
 who, descending 
 from the knob of 
 Mount Washing- 
 ton, came presently 
 upon a dark pond 
 fed by the melting 
 snows and over- 
 shadowed by bald 
 and jagged crests 
 of the mountain, 
 presenting alto- 
 gether one of the 
 most striking pic- 
 tures ever seen. No flower blooming on its bleak margin, no living thing rippling its icy bosom, it re- 
 sembled a sullen, deep-set black eye staring eternally upward from its sunless hollow at the unap- 
 proachable glories of the heaven above. The path for several miles led around and over this line of 
 savage crests, in many places steep and dangerous. In time one reaches the line of forest growth — 
 at first appearing a mere thicket of stunted firs, and increasing in size with the descent. The charac- 
 ter of the road also changed. The rugged pavements and steep stairways of loose and angular rocks 
 
THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 25 
 
 Mount Washington Railway. 
 
 had given place to deep-washed gullies. 
 The Notch is a narrow and romantic 
 gorge, walled in by precipitous rocks and 
 mountains of imposing height. Its en- 
 trance resembles a gateway of Cyclopean 
 1 masonry, affording scanty room for the 
 rugged highway, and the passage of a brawling stream, 
 one of the sources of the Saco River. The ride 
 through this wild rift, halting and turning often to admire its savage 
 ruggedness, forms one of the most agreeable reminiscences of 
 our mountain trip. At the end of two miles the pass widens 
 into a regular valley, and the scenery becomes more common- 
 place. 
 
 Silver Cascade, sometimes called the Second Flume, from 
 the deep and narrow gorge through which the waters flow, is about 
 three miles from the Glen. It is a water-chiseled chasm through 
 which a bright stream toils with hoarse murmurings ; while from 
 far above on the mountain, where rocks and fir-trees crown the 
 misty heights, the Silver Cascade comes skipping down like a white-robed undine, hasting to 
 plunge herself in the gulf below. Part of its waters come from Mount Washington through 
 Tuckerman’s Ravine, and the descent is about eighty feet. It flows down a series of rough, rocky 
 steps which widen toward the bottom. 
 
 The Glen Ellis Fall is near the road to North Conway and the Notch. Its descent is sixty feet. 
 Other points of interest in the mountains are Tuckerman’s Ravine ; Willey Slide, named after the 
 unfortunate Willey family, who were buried in a landslide on the night of October 25, 1826 ; the 
 “ Profile,” and the Cascades. 
 
 It is impossible to close this short account of Mount Washington without briefly referring to the 
 triumph which engineering skill has achieved in the construction of the Mount Washington Railway. 
 During the summer season, steam-cars run daily over the track, which passes up the west side of 
 the mountain to the summit. The construction of this railroad is due to the enthusiasm and inven- 
 tive genius of Mr. Sylvester Marsh, of Littleton, New Hampshire. At first it was difficult to con- 
 vince mechanicians of the feasibility of the scheme, and little encouragement was afforded by 
 capitalists until an engine was actually running over a portion of the route. Finally, the necessary 
 funds having been subscribed, the railroad was finished in 1869. It starts from a point 2,668 feet above 
 the sea, and about 3,600 below the summit. The average grade is 1,300 feet, the maximum 1,980 
 feet, to the mile. There are nine curves on the line, varying from 497 to 945 feet radius. The track 
 consists of three rails, the outer four feet seven 
 and one-half inches apart, which sustain the 
 principal weight of the rolling stock, and an 
 inner cog-rail , four inches wide, into which the 
 teeth of the driving-wheel of the engine play, 
 and, as it revolves, the whole engine is made to 
 move, resting on the outer rail. Practically, the 
 operation is accomplished by one cog-wheel 
 working into another. The atmospheric brakes 
 reduce the possibility of accident to a minimum 
 risk, and it is currently believed that the danger 
 involved in traveling on this railroad is not greater 
 than on an ordinary railroad. 
 
 In 1870-71 an expedition, consisting of C. H. 
 
 Hitchcock, State Geologist of New Hampshire, 
 
 J. H. Huntington, in charge of the Observatory 
 upon the mountain, S. A. Nelson, Observer, A. 
 
 F. Clough, and H. A. Kimball, Photographers, 
 and Theodore Smith, Observer and Telegrapher 
 
 for the Signal Service, passed the winter on the The Depot and Summit House, Mount Washington. 
 
26 
 
 THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 top of the mountain, connected with the outside world only by a telegraph wire. Before this date 
 only two of the various attempts made to reach the summit in winter had proved successful. 
 
 We have not space to dwell upon the various difficulties encountered in making the necessary 
 preparations for wintering on the summit, many of which arose from the fact that the expedition was 
 finally organized so late in the season, that before their arrangements were fully completed the trains 
 had ceased to run. But, these matters having previously been attended to, an ascent was made on 
 November 30, 1870. This ascent is so full of dramatic incident, that the reader will pardon us for 
 reproducing it : 
 
 “ The end of the first mile — carrying us up to within one half mile of the limit of wood-growth 
 — found us in tolerable condition ; when a halt for breath and observations discovered to us an ap- 
 proaching storm lying on the Green Mountains of Vermont. It would undoubtedly strike us, but 
 we still hoped we might press on and reach the summit first. The thought of being overtaken by a 
 furious storm on the wintry, shelterless cliffs of Mount Washington, with the night about to enshroud 
 us, was fearfully impressive, and prompted us to our best endeavors. With all the effort we could 
 well muster, we had only advanced a half mile more, carrying us fairly above the wooded region to 
 the foot of ‘Jacob’s Ladder,’ when the storm struck us. There were suddenly wrapped around us 
 dense clouds of frozen vapor, driven so furiously into our faces by the raging winds as to threaten 
 suffocation. The cheering repose of the elements but a moment before had now given place to what 
 might well be felt as the power and hoarse rage of a thousand furies ; and the shroud of darkness 
 that was in a moment thrown over us was nearly equal to that of the moonless night. Compelled to 
 redoubled efforts to keep our feet and make proper advance, we struggled with the tempest, though 
 with such odds against us that we were repeatedly slipping and getting painful bruises. Mr. Kim- 
 ball finding himself too much exhausted to continue this struggle on the track, we all halted in brief 
 consultation. It was suggested that we return to Waumbek Station, an old building a half mile 
 below us, and there try to keep ourselves from freezing by brisk exercise. Mr. Clough emphatically 
 vetoed this as a most dangerous and impracticable proposition, saying that our only hope consisted in 
 pushing upward with all our might. 
 
 “ Here we became separated, three of our party left the railroad track, and Mr. Kimball left 
 behind his luggage in order to continue the ascent. By thus leaving the track we escaped liability 
 to falls and bruises, but found ourselves often getting buried to our waists in snow, and forced to 
 exert our utmost strength to drag ourselves out and advance. We repeatedly called to Mr. Bracy, 
 who had kept on the track, as we supposed, but could get no answer. The roar of the tempest over- 
 came our utmost vocal efforts ; and the cloud of frozen vapor, that lashed us so furiously as it hugged 
 us in its chilling embrace, was so dense that no object could be seen at a distance of ten paces. 
 
 “ Against such remorseless blasts no human being could keep integrity of muscle and remain 
 erect. We could only go on together a little way and then throw ourselves down for a few moments, 
 to recover breath and strength. We had many times repeated this, when Mr. Kimball became so 
 utterly exhausted as to make it impossible to take another step. He called to the others to leave 
 him and save themselves if possible. The noble and emphatic ‘ Never' uttered by the manly Clough, 
 whose sturdy muscle was found ample to back his will, aroused him to another effort. 
 
 “ The two stronger gentlemen, whose habits of life and superior physical powers gave hope of 
 deliverance for themselves, were both immovable in the determination that our fate should be one, 
 let that be what it must. 
 
 “ The situation was one of most momentous peril, especially as to Mr. Kimball, whose exhaustion 
 was now so extreme that he was wholly indifferent to the fate that seemed to impend ; only begging 
 that he might be left to that sleep from whose embrace there was felt no power of resistance. Still 
 there was forced a listless drag onward, mostly in the interests of his companions and in obedience 
 to their potent wills. After this sort we struggled on, a few rods at a time, falling together, between 
 each effort, to rest and gain new strength. At each halt Messrs. Clough and Cheney used their best 
 endeavors by pounding and rubbing Mr. Kimball’s feet and limbs, and in various other ways endeav- 
 ored to promote circulation and prevent freezing. 
 
 “ The last saving device was supplied by a cord which we chanced to have. At one end ot this 
 was made a noose, which was placed in Mr. Kimball’s hand, while the other end was passed over the 
 shoulder of Mr. Clough who tugged along in advance, while Mr. Cheney helped at his side. Most 
 of the last mile was accomplished in this manner.” 
 
 From the following description, a storm on Mount Washington in winter is no slight matter : 
 
LAKE GEORGE . 
 
 27 
 
 “ Sunday , February 5. From one to two a. m. the wind was higher than during the early part 
 of the night. Some of the gusts must have been above 100, possibly 1 10 miles an hour. The tem- 
 pest roared and thundered. It had precisely the sound of the ocean waves breaking on a rocky 
 shore. And the building too had the motion of a ship scudding before a gale. At three a. m., the 
 temperature had fallen to — 59°, and the barometer stood at 22.508, and attached thermometer 62°. 
 Barometer was lowest yesterday at eight a. m., when it was 22.508, and attached thermometer 32 0 . 
 Now, seven a. m., the thermometer indicates — 25 0 , and the wind has fallen to 70. * * The 
 
 valleys are full of stratus clouds ; charged with frost as they are, occasionally sweeping over the 
 summit, they completely cover one in a moment, hair, beard, and clothing ; when the face is exposed 
 it feels like the touch of a hot iron. To breathe this frosty air is very unpleasant. A full inhalation 
 induces a severe coughing fit. Our butter-tubs stand in the outer-room ; this morning we cut a 
 piece of butter for breakfast, using a chisel and hammer ! — it was like cutting into a stone. 
 
 “ Nine a. m. Talked over the events of the past night at the breakfast table, recalling many 
 laughable incidents, and agreeing that we rather enjoyed the night’s experience than otherwise, that 
 it was a sublime affair (having full confidence that the house would stand, the storm had no terrors 
 for us) ; but all things considered, were unanimous in the opinion that once a fortnight was quite 
 often enough for such grand displays of the storm-king’s power. Of all the nights since this party 
 came here the last exceeds every one.” 
 
 LAKE GEORGE. 
 
 T HE number, beauty, and variety of the lakes and lakelets is one of the most striking features 
 of American scenery ; and the Empire State holds within her boundaries a most Benjamin- 
 like share of these pearls of nature. It is needless for her to boast of Cayuga, Pleasant, Piseco, 
 Schroon, Paradox, Champlain, and numberless other delicious scenes, while with fair Horicon alone 
 she may challenge all the earth. This bright gem — gem of purest water — is befittingly set in a sur- 
 rounding of kindred beauties, shedding its effulgence upon the most attractive portion of the most 
 picturesque State in the Union. It is as accessible in all directions as steamers, railways, and roads 
 can make it. And what magnificent modes of access ! The Canadian, dropping down Lake Cham- 
 plain, nods to the Adirondacks on one hand, and to the Green Mountains on the other, as he hastens 
 to pay a morning call ; while the New Yorker glides swiftly through the enchanted fastnesses of the 
 Hudson, and peeps into the gay saloons of Saratoga, as he runs up for a few days’ pleasure-trip. And 
 what cordial and hospitable greeting and entertainment they receive — moral and physical ! What 
 gracious smiles from the hostess, and what dinners and teas from the stewards of her hotels ! 
 
 The Indian, true to that dominant emotion of his heart — a pure and reverent love of Nature — 
 always fervently worshiped at this shrine, and baptized it humbly — in sympathy with its own charac- 
 ter and sentiment — Horicon, or the Silvery Waters ; he called it too Canideriout, or the Tail of the 
 Lake, from its relative position to the proximate waters of Champlain. The French Catholics, 
 equally obeying the specialties of their morale , christened it, in honor of their religious creed, Lake 
 Sacrament ; while the Anglo-Saxon, no less mindful of his highest and holiest love, made it do homage 
 to his egotism, and named it after himself — Lake George ! To this hour, well-a-day ! the voices of 
 poetry and of religion are drowned in the more clamorous cry of human pride and selfishness. 
 
 Who can say what deeds of heroism and horror, of love and hate, the shores and depths of Hor 
 icon may have witnessed in the forgotten ages of the past, when the red man alone was lord and 
 master. What unwritten histories, rich and strange, may lie buried in its sealed waters. Certainly, 
 since its story has found chroniclers, numberless events of classic and historic charm have clustered 
 thick around it. The poet and the romancer have embalmed it in the quaint old rhyme and in win- 
 some story. Brave armies lie under its sods, and its ripples now break over the graves of once gay 
 and gallant fleets. Not a few of the most daring and important events of our Colonial wars, and of 
 our Revolutionary struggle, endear these haunts to the national heart. And it is here that the 
 thrilling scenes of Cooper’s romantic novel “ The Last of the Mohicans" are laid. 
 
 Lake George lies at the head of a valley of the St. Lawrence. Extending southward through 
 Vermont and New York it has a length of thirty-five miles, and an average breadth of betw r een two 
 
28 
 
 LAKE GEORGE. 
 
 and three miles. It is in some parts very narrow, being not more than a mile wide, while its maxi- 
 mum width is not more than four miles. It is noted for the singular transparency of its waters and 
 the great number of islands it contains. It is in the bosom of high hills and surrounded by huge 
 rocks and mountains, and is environed by forests which formerly were well-stocked with deer. The 
 great number of visitors have, however, driven the game away. 
 
 The charm of many of the islands and localities embraced in the view from Caldwell, is pleasantly 
 heightened by associations of historic incident. Diamond Isle was once (who, now watching its 
 peaceful aspect, would ever think it !) a depot for military stores and war-clad bands. Long Point, 
 hard by, in 1757 formed with the shore a harbor for the bateaux of Montcalm. Yonder too are still 
 found the ruins of forts, and other adjuncts of the pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war. 
 Fort William Henry, the most interesting of these relics, was built by the English during their colo- 
 nial wars with the French, in 1755. The history of the construction of this fort contains so much 
 that is of interest that we will be pardoned for making a brief recapitulation of it. 
 
 In 1745, when the French and Indian war was beginning to be pushed with vigor, Lake George 
 became a medium for the water transportation of troops ; but for a long time there was no fighting 
 on its shores. In 1755, General William Johnson — a prominent character in the colonial history of 
 New York — sent out a detachment of twelve hundred men under Colonel Williams to attack the 
 French General Dieskau, who was stationed a few miles east of the lake with an army composed 
 largely of Indians. The disciplined English soldiers were but little acquainted with the Indian 
 method of warfare, and they soon found themselves in an ambuscade. Their commander was killed 
 almost at the first fire, and after a short resistance, they retreated to the main body who were sta- 
 tioned on the lake-shore. The triumphant French general followed, but meanwhile General Johnson 
 had thrown up a breastwork of logs, which enabled his men to fight to more advantage. After a 
 sharp battle of five hours the French were compelled to retreat. General Johnson then erected 
 Fort William Henry on this spot — a fort which became one of the strongholds of the English during 
 the remainder of the war. It was built of logs, filled in with sand, and mounted nineteen cannon 
 and four or five mortars. When Gen. Montcalm led his forces against it, it had a garrison of five 
 hundred men. After a six days’ resistance they were forced to surrender. They yielded on condi- 
 tion that they should be allowed to march out with all the honors of war ; but when the fort was 
 given up, Montcalm found it impossible to check the ferocity of his Indians, and the garrison was 
 massacred in cold blood. On the spot where this tragedy occurred, there is to-day a large summer 
 hotel ; balls and merry-makings are frequent, and the air is often filled with music and laughter where 
 once resounded the war-whoop of the Indian and the death-cries of his victims. 
 
 It is no slight task to determine in which direction here to seek the picturesque — whether in the 
 bosom of the Lake, on the variedly indented shores, or on the overlooking mountain tops. Every- 
 where is abundant and perfect beauty. Our only regret is, as we offer our illustration of Lake George 
 taken in the vicinity of Rogers’ Slide — an illustration which for picturesque beauty is not olten sur- 
 passed — that with our best seekings, we may still appear to the reader too much like the pedant in 
 Flierocles, submitting a brick as a sample of the beauty of his house. 
 
 Rogers’ Slide is a rocky height at one of the narrowest points of the lake. Its name grew out of 
 an incident in the Indian war. A scout named Rogers, who had gained considerable renown tor his 
 daring and skill, was one day pursued by Indians, and fled to this spot. At the edge ot the preci- 
 pice he loosened his snow-shoes, and without changing their position, turned himself about in them 
 and put them on again with the heels in front. He then ran to the southern brow of the rock, and 
 descending through a gorge or ravine to the Lake sped away on the ice. The Indians reached the 
 precipice and saw what seemed to be the tracks of two men who had apparently thrown themselves 
 down the cliff in preference to being captured. On looking over the lake, however, they discovered 
 Rogers fleeing across the ice, and at once their superstition suggested to them that a man who could 
 have descended the cliff in safety must be under the protection of the Great Spirit, and should not, 
 therefore, be harmed. From that time forward it was called “ Rogers’ Slide.” It is with regret that 
 we are obliged to detract from the romance of this little episode by stating that it was subsequently 
 established that Rogers was a notorious braggart. 
 
 The attractions of Horicon will be more perfect when time shall effect the additional infusion oi 
 the picturesque, which will follow the enterprise, opulence, and taste of increasing population. Though 
 now exhibiting all the elements of perfect beauty, she yet bides her time for complete development. 
 She is now, to her sister waters of the Old World, as the untaught forest maiden is to the peerless 
 
ROGER’S SLIDE, LAKE GEORGE 
 
30 
 
 THE MAMMOTH CAVE , KENTUCKY. 
 
 queen of the boudoir and saloon. The refining and spiritualizing hand of art will soon enliven her 
 quieter features, and soften her rougher characteristics. Ruined battlements and legendary shrines 
 may never deck her bluffs and promontories in the mystic veil of romance, but happy cottages and 
 smiling homes of health and content will climb her rude acclivities, and merry summer villas will peep 
 gleefully out of the clustering shrubbery of her lovely isles, bringing to the heart more grateful 
 thoughts and hopes than would the vaunted accessories of older spots, inasmuch as they will whisper 
 of a yet higher civilization and of a nobler life. 
 
 THE MAMMOTH CAVE, KENTUCKY. 
 
 S UBTERRANEAN cham- 
 bers played an important 
 part in the religious rites of the 
 ancients, having been devoted 
 to priestly ceremonies not only 
 among the barbarous nations 
 who then inhabited Northern 
 Europe, and among various sects 
 in India, but also among the 
 classic Greeks. Often of un- 
 known or unexplored depths, 
 they were well calculated to 
 support the superstitions upon 
 which the religions of those days 
 were founded. 
 
 In our day, caverns are inter- 
 esting only for their natural 
 features — their extent, location, 
 and arrangement, and sometimes 
 for the fantastic formations which 
 they contain. Kentucky has 
 more of these natural chambers 
 than any other State in the 
 Union. Many of them are but 
 a few yards in depth, while others 
 extend under the surface many 
 hundreds of feet. During the 
 late war, most of the nitre that 
 was used was obtained from the 
 caves of Kentucky, being found 
 in abundance incrusted on their 
 'walls, from which it is easily 
 detached with a pick. 
 
 Mammoth Cave is the largest 
 yet discovered. It is in Edmon- 
 son county, near Green River, 
 about 130 miles from Lexington 
 The Entrance. j n a south- westerly direction, on 
 
 the road to Nashville, Tennessee. 
 
 It is private property, and extends, it is supposed, ten miles underneath the earth, although owing 
 to the numerous windings no accurate estimate can be made. It contains a great number of stalac- 
 tites of large size and fantastic form, although neither so brilliant nor so beautiful as some which are 
 
THE MAMMOTH CAVE , KENTUCKY. 
 
 3i 
 
 The Church. 
 
 found elsewhere. Two hundred and twenty-six avenues run through it, forty-seven domes adorn it, 
 and there are twenty-three pits in it and many streams. The aggregate length of the various corri- 
 dors is estimated at several hundred miles ; but this is, probably, an exaggeration. 
 
 The scenery in the neighborhood of the cave presents no particular attractions. It lies amid ordi- 
 nary woodland, its entrance being at the further end of a ravine known as Cave Hollow. The 
 declivity leading to it is thirty or forty feet wide, and is formed of abrupt and broken steps. At the 
 bottom rises an arch of rudely piled rocks, overgrown with a mass of tangled vegetation, through 
 which there is a perpetual dropping of water. The cave itself is not, as might be imagined, one 
 spacious hollow, but consists of a multitude of passages, none of which extend more than three 
 miles in any one direction. About one hundred feet from the entrance the progress of the explorer 
 is arrested by a door set in a rough stone wall, which crosses and completely blocks the entrance to 
 the cave. 
 
 Passing through this door, you enter a narrow passage, on the left of which is a wall, built by 
 miners to prevent the loose stones thrown up during their work from falling, and gradually descend- 
 ing a short distance along this passage, you arrive at the great vestibule of the cave. This is an 
 oval-shaped hall, two hundred feet in length by one hundred and fifty feet in width, and fifty-five feet 
 high, with a roof as flat and finished as if it were the work of skilled masons. Two passages open 
 into it at its opposite extremities ; that on the right being known as Audubon Avenue, while the 
 other is the beginning of the main gallery of the cave. The roof of this great chamber consists of 
 a single rock one hundred feet thick, in which the eye can detect no break or interruption. Leaving 
 the Rotunda, and passing down Audubon Avenue, the visitor arrives at a narrow passage winding 
 among loose rocks, which gradually slopes to a descent of seventy or eighty feet, and leads into a 
 spacious oval gallery called the “ Church.” This apartment is sixty-three feet high, and about one 
 hundred feet in diameter. Eight or ten feet above a peculiar formation, which is called the “ Pulpit,” 
 is what is known as the “ Organ Loft” and “ Choir.” Religious services have frequently been per- 
 formed in this temple of nature. 
 
 Near the “ Church” are the ruins of the old nitre works, and some thirty feet higher up is a 
 large cave, connected with which there is a narrow gallery, crossing the main cavern, and losing 
 itself in an opening on the right known as “Gothic Avenue.” In this chamber there are to be seen a 
 
THE DEAD SJL2L 
 
THE MAMMOTH CAVE , KENTUCKY. 
 
 33 
 
 number of stalagmite pillars. The “ Devil’s Armchair” is a large stalagmite column, in the centre of 
 which is a capacious and comfortable seat. 
 
 Returning from “ Gothic Avenue” into the main cave the interest of the visitor increases at every 
 step. At a small distance from the stairs by which he descends is an apartment called the “ Ball- 
 Room,” owing to its singular adaptation for such assemblages. It contains an orchestra fifteen feet 
 high, and equal to the accommodation of a hundred musicians, with a gallery extending back to the 
 level of the high embankment near “ Gothic Avenue,” while the floor is level and smooth for several 
 hundred feet. Further on is the “Giant’s Coffin,” a large rock on the right. At this point the 
 incrustations on the wall begin ; they are of the most fantastic and varied shapes. One hundred 
 yards beyond the “ Coffin” the cave makes a long curve. Here, by means of a Bengal light, a vast 
 amphitheatre may be illuminated, and a scene of weird beauty exposed to view. Opposite to this 
 point is “ Sick-Room Cave,” in which are a row of cabins for the use of invalids, it being supposed 
 that the pure and temperate air of the cave, combined with good accommodations, might afford a 
 cure for pulmonary consumption. 
 
 The Bottomless Pit. 
 
 Next in order is the “ Star Chamber,” which presents a most singular optical illusion. Looking 
 up to the high ceiling the spectator seems to see the firmament itself, studded with stars ; and far off, 
 a comet, with a long, bright tail. In going into the “ Solitary Chambers,” the visitor must crawl 
 upon his hands and knees for fifteen or twenty feet. The “ Fairy Grotto” is distinguished for its 
 great number of stalactites of various sizes. Lighted up by lamps this cave has the appearance of 
 a grove of coral. 
 
 Returning from the Grotto, you re-enter the main cavern, and come next to the “ Temple.” 
 This is an immense vault, covering an area of two acres, roofed by a solid dome of rock one hun- 
 dred and twenty feet high. In the middle of this chamber there is a large mound of rocks rising on 
 one side nearly to the top, and known as the mountain. This dome, however, is eclipsed by the 
 “ Mammoth Dome,” which is four hundred feet high, and is considered one of the most sublime 
 spectacles in the cave. 
 
 The “ River Hall” is a chamber situated at the termination of “ Relief Hall,” through which the 
 
34 
 
 MINOT'S LEDGE LIGHT-HOUSE , MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 visitor must pass on approaching the “ Dead Sea” and the “ Rivers.” The “ Bottomless Pit,” which 
 is situated hereabouts, is one of the most interesting portions of the cave. It is a deep, dark pool 
 in the rocky floor whose depth is unknown. Attempts have been made to sound it, but probably 
 owing to the lack of suitable apparatus, they have been unsuccessful. When the “ Pit” is illumin- 
 ated, its weird surroundings are strikingly brought out. The glare, driving back the shadows a short 
 distance, the walls of rock, on which the flickering light battles with the darkness, and the mouth 
 of the pit below so densely black as to apparently justify its name — all these are the constituents of 
 a scene which strongly impresses the imagination. 
 
 On the left of the cave is a steep precipice, over which you can look down upon the black waters 
 of the Dead Sea eighty feet below. At the foot of the slope flows the river “ Styx,” and in that 
 stream and the “ Echo River” are found the eyeless fish. Beyond the “ Echo River” there is a walk 
 of four miles to Cleveland Avenue, a passage three miles long, seventy feet wide, and ten or fifteen 
 feet high, beyond whose termination no explorers have passed. 
 
 Guides are furnished at the cave, and the visitor dons a peculiar costume, that renders the walk- 
 ing and climbing more comfortable, than otherwise they might be. The Mammoth Cave is owned 
 by Dr. John Crogan, who purchased it for ten thousand dollars. 
 
 MINOT’S LEDGE LIGHT-HOUSE, MASSA- 
 CHUSETTS. 
 
 T HE history of the light-house system in the United States is full of interest. .The first act of 
 Congress relating to it was passed on August 7, 1789, when provision was made that “all 
 expenses which shall accrue from and after the 15th day of August, 1789, in the necessary support, 
 maintenance, and repairs of all light-houses, beacons, buoys, and public piers, erected, placed, or 
 sunk before the passing of this act, at the entrance of or within any bay, inlet, harbor, or port of 
 the United States, for rendering the navigation thereof easy and safe, shall be defrayed out of the 
 Treasury of the United States.” For the sake of having a centralized authority, and to prevent any 
 possible conflict of jurisdiction between the Federal and the State governments, the above act was 
 re-enacted, March 26, 1790, conditionally that “ none of the said expenses shall continue to be so 
 defrayed by the United States after the expiration of one year from the day aforesaid, unless such 
 light-houses, beacons, buoys, and public piers shall in the mean time be ceded to and vested in the 
 United States by the State or States respectively in which the same lie, together with the lands and 
 tenements thereunto belonging, and together with the jurisdiction of the same." From and after 
 this time, Congress has assumed the control of these beneficent aids of navigation. 
 
 Until 1852, our light-house system was the poorest in the world. It was under the charge of the 
 Fifth Auditor, who had other duties to attend to, and was often ignorant of the first principles of 
 light-house construction and maintenance. Complaints for this reason became so numerous that the 
 Government organized a commission to go to Europe and inquire into the management of light- 
 houses there. The result of this inquiry was the establishment of a Light-house Board, consisting 
 of eight officers selected from the navy and the Engineering corps, to whom the entire control of all 
 light-houses, light-ships, beacons and buoys was given. From the organization of this board the 
 great improvement in our light-house system dates ; it may now be said to be unsurpassed. 
 
 There are thirteen light-house districts on the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, and each district has 
 its appropriate officers. The present law requires that a candidate for the position oi Keeper ot a 
 light-house must be over eighteen years old, and able to read and write. No woman is allowed the 
 management of a light, unless by special permission of the department. There are six orders of 
 light in our system. One is designed to give warning of the approach ot land, and the rest are to 
 mark headlands, points in rivers, bays and lakes. There are white and red lights, fixed, revolving, 
 and flash lights ; there are also fixed white lights showing a flash at intervals, and, in some cases, 
 two or three white lights to mark a headland. These differences are valuable in enabling approach- 
 ing ships to distinguish between the various lights, and thus determine for a certainty as to what 
 point they arc approaching. Buoys, too, arc set for the guidance ol seamen. 
 
MINOT’S LEDGE LIGHT-HOUSE, MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
3 6 
 
 MINOT'S LEDGE LIGHT-HOUSE , MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 Minot’s Ledge Light-house, the subject of our sketch, is situated on Minot’s Ledge, a rock off 
 the coast of Cohasset, about eight miles east of south-east of the Boston light, extremely dangerous 
 to vessels sailing toward Boston from an easterly direction. A strong north-east wind would be 
 almost certain to cast them upon the rocks, but for the warning light. The dangers of this point 
 had attracted the attention of ship-owners and mariners many years ago, and in 1847 an appropriation 
 was made by Congress to erect a light-house there. It was determined to build an iron pile struc- 
 ture sustaining at the top a keeper’s dwelling, and above that an illuminating apparatus. The struc- 
 ture was to be in the shape of an octagon, each side at the base measuring nine-and-a-half feet, and 
 the diameter of the circumscribing circle twenty-five feet. Iron piles ten inches in diameter, where 
 they leave the rock, were to be inserted to a depth of five feet, at each of the angles of the octagon 
 and at its centre. The light-house was finished according to this plan in the fall of 1849, but it 
 stood only two years, being swept away with its keeper in the great storm of April, 1851. Money 
 for rebuilding it was appropriated in the year following the disaster, and a new design was agreed 
 upon by the light-house board, and approved by the Secretary of the Treasury in 1855. The base 
 of the present structure is thirty feet in diameter. The stone-work is eighty-eight feet high, and for 
 the lower forty is a solid piece of masonry. It has stood storms that were as severe as the one by 
 which the former light-house was destroyed, and it is now believed to be impregnable. The cost of 
 erecting it was a quarter of a million dollars. 
 
 From an article on the subject of light-houses recently contributed to a magazine by the well- 
 known writer, Mr. Charles Nordhoff, we quote the following interesting facts : “ The lenses used to 
 enforce, concentrate, and direct the higher grades of lights cost various prices, up to eleven or twelve 
 thousand dollars. The lamp of a first-order sea-coast light-house has four concentric wicks, the 
 outer one being four inches in diameter. The oil is pumped up by clock-work or other machinery so 
 as to feed these wicks constantly to their utmost, that they may give out as much light as possible. 
 The Fresnel lens now comes in to save all the rays of light which have thus carefully been created, 
 and to concentrate them and send them forth in that direction only in which they are required. 
 Briefly described, the invention of Fresnel consists in surrounding the lamp by a series of prismatic 
 rings of glass, each different from the others in its angles, but all cut mathematically to such angles 
 that the rays which go above the proper plane and those which fall below shall be bent by refraction 
 and reflection so as to become parallel with the lateral rays. Thus all the rays are saved and sent 
 out in one sheet over the ocean. One of the most important duties of the keeper of a light is to see 
 daily that the light and the lens are upon the exact and proper level. A deviation of only a fraction 
 of an inch might throw the beam of light toward the sky or down toward the base of the light-tower, 
 and thus make it useless to the mariner. 
 
 “ There arc at this time half a dozen electric lights in Europe, but their number is not increasing. 
 They have proved extremely expensive in the maintenance, requiring the use of steam-engines for 
 generating the electricity. It is said that this light, which is, no doubt, more powerful than any 
 other in clear weather, does not penetrate fog so well as the oil light. 
 
 “ Experience has shown our Light-house Board that the best light-keepers are old sailors and 
 soldiers ; and it is its desire, we have been told, that the maimed of those who served in the war for 
 the Union should, where they are physically and mentally competent, receive these places. The 
 petty though important place of light-keeper has too often been made a political prize, and thus 
 the service, which requires permanence, has been injured. In England the light-keeper holds his 
 office for life or good behavior. He begins at a less important light, on a low salary, and is promoted 
 for skill and attention to his duties. 
 
 “ Fog-signals, many of which are required at different points on the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, 
 arc of several kinds. Sonic are steam-whistles, the sound of which is made deeper or louder by 
 being sent through a trumpet ; but the most effective is probably the Siren. This ingenious ma- 
 chine consists of a long trumpet and a steam-boiler. The sound is produced by the rapid revolution 
 past each other of two flat disks pierced with a great number of small holes ; a jet of steam under 
 high pressure is projected against the disks, which revolve past each other more than a thousand 
 times a minute ; as the rows of small holes in the two disks come opposite each other, the steam 
 vehemently rushes through and makes the singular and piercing noise which a Siren gives out. One 
 of these machines costs about $3,500 complete, with its trumpet, boiler, &c.” 
 
 The present pay of light-house keepers varies according to the importance of the light and the 
 responsibility put upon the keeper. The Congressional appropriation covers an average salary ot 
 
window looking out upon the avenue. She stood 
 amid flowers as fresh and green as if it were July instead i 
 of January. The fire in the bright steel grate burned ; 
 cheerily, and the room was cozily warm and comfort- 
 able. 
 
 She was dressed for the street, and she made a very j 
 pretty picture. Her face was bright and piquant, her fig- 
 ure graceful, and her abundant hair carefully and becom- j 
 ingly arranged. But her whole altitude expressed a secret 
 dissatisfaction, and she cast frequent discontented glances 
 at her costume. And yet it was a very pretty one; Ma- 
 dame Dubaney had declared it to be her ideal school-girl's 
 toilet. It was of fine material and exquisite fit, and the 
 girl's Ulster and cap, boots and gloves. were alike neat and 
 stylish. 
 
 She stood slowly buttoning the latter when her mother 
 •entered the room. 
 
 “Katie, do you know the time? You will lose your 
 place in the French class. Listen;' 1 and as she spoke, the 
 clock on the mantel-shelf chimed in clear silver tones ten. 
 “There, child, you ought to be in school now." 
 
 “ I know, mamma, but I have no heart for French this 
 morning.” 
 
 “ I am sorry for that, Katie. What is the matter ? 
 
 The girl was silent a moment, and then, in a low tone, 
 she said, “Mother, can I have a velvet suit made for 
 school ?” 
 
 The answer was prompt and decisive: “Certainly not, 
 my dear. The suit you have on is perfectly appropriate. 
 
 ( should not think of wearing velvet myself, except as an 
 evening or visiting costume. It would be absurd in a 
 school -room.” 
 
 “Clara May has a velvet suit; so have Jenny and Julia 
 Smith ; and Cecile Bradley's is very nearly all velvet. I 
 think that papa can afford it just as well. 
 
 “It is not a question of money, but of good taste and 
 propriety. If you wear velvet as a school-girl, what do 
 you propose to wear when you are a young lady ? 1 am 
 
 sorry you have missed your French in order to make a 
 request so silly. Now, dear, had you not better hurry a 
 little ? Madame disapproves of late pupils. 
 
 Katie took up her books, and went oft with a frown on 
 her pretty face. All the way to Madame" s she was con- 
 sidering how to accomplish her wish. Her grandfather 
 would give her the dress, or her aunt Lucy ; but even then 
 her mother would not permit her to wear it to school, 
 and if she could not wear it in the presence of Clara, May 
 and the Smith girls, there would be no consolation for her 
 in velvet. 
 
 When she reached school her class had finished its re- 
 citation; she had lost her place, and Madame was cross. 
 ICatie to-day was careless of these things. Her mind was 
 occupied with one ambition, a very foolish one, doubtless, 
 but a very important one in her own eyes. 
 
 Never before, either, had Clara May looked so triumph- 
 antly happy and handsome. She had taken Katies place 
 at the head of the class, and the bright winter sun lell 
 upon the girl's fair hair, turning it to gold, and made dark 
 lustres in the folds of the envied black velvet. TheSmiths 
 were awkward, angular girls, and she scarcely envied 
 them costumes which were not in the least becoming. As 
 for Cecile Bradley’s suit, it was liome-vuide. Katie s crit- 
 ical eyes had detected that fatal fault at once. It was 
 Clara May who sat in Katie’s sunshine; for handsome and 
 stylish as Clara was, Katie was certain if she only had a 
 velvet suit she would far eclipse her. 
 
 iris to be tin' belle of the 
 position as it is to young 
 
 was heading an “opposition.” She had declared she 
 would not wear braids because Katie Dawson did. that 
 frizzes suited her better; and frizzes, though still in the 
 minority, held their own against remarks of the most cut- 
 ting kind. 
 
 There is no contest some girls so thoroughly enter into 
 as that of outdressing rivals. The black velvet suit was 
 Clara's last defiance, and Katie was at a loss how to take 
 it up. 
 
 ‘ • I will go and tell Agnes Hilton about it this afternoon. " 
 she thought, and in the mean time she kept a sulky si- 
 lence, equally proof against curiosity and sympathy. 
 
 Agnes was" older than Katie, but they had been compan- 
 ions for years, and now, though Agnes was released from 
 regular school routine, and was “finishing comfortably 
 with private masters, she still regarded Katie as her chief 
 friend and adviser. 
 
 Agnes had a bad cold, and was nursing it in her room. 
 
 A good talk over things with Katie Dawson was just what 
 she liked. She was soon helping Katie to take off her 
 Ulster and cap. and she noticed at once — as it was meant 
 she should — Katie's look of anxious annoyance. 
 
 “What is the matter, dear ?” 
 
 Then Katie drew a large comfortable chair opposite her 
 friend's, and told her all about her school troubles. 
 
 “ I never thought Clara May had any style at all. said 
 Agnes, with the authority of sixteen. 
 
 “Still, the girls copy her, and she is so unbearably inde- 
 pendent. I merely said that frizzes and curls were going 
 out of fashion, and she said pretty things were always in 
 fashion, and that even if they were not, they suited her. 
 and she meant to wear them. Why, you know. Agnes 
 love, if every one was to follow that rule, there would be 
 absolutely no fashions at all. Then." added Katie, after 
 an effective pause — -“then she came to school in a velvet 
 suit, and immediately the Smith girls and Cecile Bradley 
 imitate her.” 
 
 “ Get one still handsomer. 
 
 “ Mother won't hear of it — says it is ridiculous, and un- 
 suitable, and all that. Of course mother can't feel as l do 
 about it, though I remember very well that she would not 
 have diamonds at all unless they were bigger than Aunt 
 Jemima’s.” 
 
 “Could you not get her to buy you a velvet suit for 
 church, and then contrive to wear it once to school, just 
 to show it ? For a general stand-point you could take 
 your mother s argument it sounds sensible. 
 
 •‘I don't think mother would do it. Grandfather 
 might, hut there would be the delay, and very likely t lain 
 ; would say 1 had copied her. " 
 
 “ What color did you say Clara s was : 
 
 “ Black." 
 
 “Oh, that is very common. See here, Katie ; and Ag 
 nes went to her wardrobe, and brought forward a most 
 suggestive box. The two girls bent over its contents in a 
 kind of rapture; Katie could only exclaim, with her pret- 
 ty hands thrown upward, 
 
 ‘ * Violet vet ret /" 
 
 ‘ That is the shade, dear. Now look here;" and the, 
 dress was carefully unfolded. “ Do you see the lini n gs .1 
 They are all of pale violet satin. Do you sec the hunehl 
 of violets worked on the cuff's, collar, and left breast Ah.j 
 it is exquisite! 1 got it last week for Lydia lame's wed- 
 ding. It was the prettiest dross in the church. KaticJ 
 you stay here all night. and wear it to school to morrow 
 morning. You know to-morrow is Wednesday. Th( 
 classes close early l Ar i he mat me. , :ii' jyo'i can say yoij 
 dressed on tha 
 
NIAGARA FALLS. 
 
 37 
 
 six hundred dollars per annum. The keeper of Minot’s Ledge, on the Massachusetts coast, receives 
 $1,000, while some keepers receive but $350. 
 
 The cost of light-houses varies as much as the salaries of the keepers. Some light-houses cost 
 ten thousand dollars ; Minot’s Ledge light cost two hundred and fifty thousand, the building of this 
 structure being attended with great difficulty. General Alexander, who superintended the con- 
 struction of the present tower, was able to get but thirty hours of work done the first year, and 
 one hundred and fifty-seven hours the second. No part of the rock was ever uncovered for more 
 than a few minutes at a time. 
 
 On the Atlantic coast it is the aim of engineers to have the lights as high as is consistent with 
 safety, while on the Pacific coast the high rocks and cliffs compel the erection of the light-houses 
 almost too high for effective use. Point Lomo, at the entrance of San Diego bay, is nearly five 
 hundred feet above the sea. As the Pacific coast is much more foggy than that of the Atlantic, 
 the danger there is that the lights may be obscured by the fog. New light-houses are being con- 
 stantly erected. At the last session of Congress an appropriation was made for the purpose of 
 building forty new light-houses at points to be designated by the Light-house Board. 
 
 The history of light-houses dates from a very early period, as their obvious necessity might lead 
 us to expect. Beacons to aid mariners were, from remote antiquity, common on the shores of the 
 Mediterranean, the Archipelago, the Bosphorus, and the Red Sea, and the famous Pharos of Alexan- 
 dria — whence the French and Italian name of light-house is derived — was accounted one of the 
 seven wonders of the world. The dimensions of this building are not satisfactorily known. Accord- 
 ing to Josephus the light was visible about forty English miles. 
 
 NIAGARA FALLS. 
 
 N EARLY all visitors to Niagara experience a feeling of disappointment at first sight of it, and 
 are inclined to pronounce the descriptions they have read of it exaggerated. Especially is 
 this true when the first view is obtained from the bank of the river on the American side, for only 
 from the Canadian shore, or from the foot-bridge that crosses the river, can the magnificence of the 
 spectacle be properly appreciated. But from whatever point they may be observed, the grandeur of 
 the Falls is more forcibly impressed upon the observer with every view he takes. 
 
 The Niagara river is thirty-three miles long, and is the outlet of Lake Erie. It forms part of the 
 boundary between the United States and Canada, and is the channel by which the waters of the 
 four great lakes flow into the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The rapids of the river are about a mile long, 
 and begin sixteen miles from Lake Erie ; their current is very narrow, and the water flows swiftly 
 over the rocks, constantly growing in velocity and force, until it dashes over the precipice at Niagara. 
 At this point the river attains a width of 4,750 feet, one-fourth of which is occupied by Goat Island. 
 This island divides the cataract into two falls, the American and the Canadian. The latter is known 
 as “ Horseshoe Falls,” from its peculiar shape, and has twice the breadth of the American Fall. 
 
 The Rapids are far from being the least interesting feature of Niagara. There is a violence and 
 a power in their foaming career, which is seen in no other phenomenon of the same class. Standing 
 on the bridge which connects Goat Island with the Main, and looking up towards Lake Erie, the 
 leaping crests of the Rapids form the horizon, and it seems like a battle-charge of tempestuous 
 waves, animated and infuriated, against the sky. No one who has not seen this spectacle of turbu- 
 lent grandeur can conceive with what force the swift and overwhelming waters are flung upwards. 
 The rocks, whose soaring points show above the surface, seem tormented with some supernatural 
 agony, and fling off the wild and hurried waters, as if with the force of a giant’s arm. Nearer the 
 plunge of the Fall, the Rapids become still more agitated ; and it is almost impossible for the spec- 
 tator to rid himself of the idea, that they are conscious of the abyss to which they are hurrying, and 
 struggle back in the very extremity of horror. This propensity to invest Niagara with a soul and human 
 feelings is a common effect upon the minds of visitors, in every part of its wonderful phenomena. 
 The torture of the Rapids, the clinging curves with which they embrace the small rocky islands 
 that live amid the surge, the sudden calmness at the brow of the cataract, and the infernal writhe 
 
38 
 
 NIAGARA FALLS. 
 
 and whiteness with which they re-appear, powerless from the depths of the abyss, all seem, to 
 the excited imagination of the gazer, like the natural effects of impending ruin, desperate resolution, 
 and fearful agony, on the minds and frames of mortals. 
 
 The waters sweep down the rapids with such velocity that as they shoot over the precipice they 
 leap clear from the rocky wall, making a curve behind which the latter is distinctly visible. This 
 
 space between the rock and the waters of the fall is 
 much wider at the bottom, where they strike the 
 river, for the stone there, being loose and shaky, has 
 been hollowed out by their continuous action. On the 
 Canadian side “ The Cave of the Winds ” has thus 
 been formed behind the fall, and visitors, by passing 
 over a rocky and dangerous path, can go beneath the 
 Falls as far as Goat Island. 
 
 There are two ways of making this trip from the 
 Canadian side ; one is by steps which have been built 
 down the face of the wall, and the other is from the 
 tower. Both of these are private property, and their 
 owners will furnish a guide and a suit of oil-cloth to 
 those who wish to descend. The oil-cloth is absolutely 
 necessary, for the spray is like heavy rain, and with- 
 out such protection the visitor will become thoroughly 
 drenched. The path that leads beneath the Falls 
 s is covered with ice far into summer, and is at all 
 times both slippery and perilous, 
 ij The Horseshoe Fall has the appearance of an im- 
 £ mense cylinder turning over and over. Some of the 
 
 & many bazaars for the sale of Indian goods and souve- 
 
 « nirs have towers, and from these a fine view of the 
 'o. cataract may be obtained. Near the American side, 
 ^ Goat Island overhangs the precipice, and shows its 
 |j rocky wall ; and Prospect Point — a fine place to see 
 the Falls at sunrise— hems in the river. 
 
 In the short period during which observations of the 
 Falls have been made by men who are more than 
 passing travelers — a period which extends back no 
 further than to the close of the last century — consider- 
 able changes have been made in it by the fall of masses 
 of rock. In i S i S large fragments became detached at 
 the American fall, and the same thing took place at 
 the Horseshoe Fall ten years later. Old residents of 
 the neighborhood assert that the line of the Falls has 
 in consequence receded fifty yards in forty years ; but 
 as no exact measurements had been taken, this is mere 
 conjecture. In 1842, Prof. James Hall, then State 
 Geologist of New York, caused a careful survey to be 
 taken, and made provision for obtaining the rate of 
 recession hereafter. His published report contained 
 a fac-simile of a view of the Falls taken by Father 
 Hennepin in 1678 ; in this and the accompanying 
 description the cataract had a striking feature, which has since disappeared. This is a third fall 
 from the Canadian side towards the east, across the main fall, caused by a projecting rock, which 
 turned the parted current in this direction. To corroborate the truth of this description, Prof. Hall 
 quotes that of Kalus, a Swedish naturalist, who visited the Falls in 1750, and published the results 
 of his observations in the Gentleman's Magazine a year later. He speaks of a rock having fallen a 
 few years previous to his visit, by which the three falls that had before existed were changed into 
 two, and indicates in an accompanying sketch the spot where it formerly stood. This evidence is 
 
NIAGARA FALLS, 
 
 39 
 
 sufficiently reliable to prove that changes have been and are taking place in these Falls which in time 
 may completely change their appearance and character. 
 
 In the deep gorge 
 
 below the Falls, the 
 current, contracted in- 
 to one-fourth its space, 
 is borne in violent ed- 
 dies and whirlpools 
 along its inclined bed 
 toward Lake Ontario. 
 Notwithstanding the 
 apparent danger, the 
 river is here crossed 
 by small boats, and a 
 little steamer takes 
 passengers nearly to 
 the foot of the cata- 
 ract. 
 
 On each side of the 
 river below the Falls 
 there rises an almost 
 perpendicular wall, and 
 the upper part of the 
 stream can be reached 
 only by means of stair- 
 ways that have been 
 constructed at various 
 points along the banks 
 below. Within two 
 miles of the Falls is 
 the railway suspension- 
 bridge, built by Mr. 
 Roebling in 1855. It 
 is thrown across the 
 gorge at a height of 
 two hundred and fifty- 
 eight feet above the 
 water, and is supported 
 on each bank by tow- 
 ers of solid rock, whose 
 centres are eight hun- 
 dred feet apart. 
 
 Twenty-eight feet 
 below the railway track 
 there is a carriage and 
 foot-road for pedes- 
 trians and vehicles. 
 Besides this, there are 
 two other bridges near 
 Niagara, the new sus- 
 pension-bridge just be- 
 low the Falls, and the 
 
 bridge to Goat Island. 
 
 On the Rocks below the American Falls. 
 
 The descent be- 
 neath the American Fall should be made from Goat Island. Prof. Tyndall at his visit ventured, 
 with his guide, as far under the Fall as it was possible to go. Connected with Goat Island by 
 
FALLS. 
 
THE GREAT HORSESHOE CURVE . 
 
 4i 
 
 a foot-bridge is Lunar Island. A fine view of the Falls may be obtained from either, the Canada 
 Falls being on one side, and the American on the other. There is a ferry which will take 
 the visitor across the river for a quarter of a dollar, and as it ventures quite near the Falls, he can 
 here obtain a good view of the immense volume of water which pours down into the gorge, a distance 
 of one hundred and fifty feet. The gorge itself bears striking indications of having been cut by the 
 water, and scientific investigation has established this to be the true theory. 
 
 The sound of the Fall varies greatly with the wind and the condition of the atmosphere. Ordi- 
 narily it can not be heard more than a quarter of a mile away, while on other occasions, its roar can 
 be distinguished as far as Lake Ontario and across its waters to Toronto, forty-five miles distant. 
 Many of the early visitors to the Falls have recorded that they heard the sound of the waters, 
 twenty-five, thirty, and thirty-five miles away. Close by, it is like a monotonous rumbling not un- 
 like that made by an immense saw-mill, but much deeper and fuller. 
 
 Below the Falls the Niagara river flows swiftly through its walled banks for three miles. It then 
 turns towards the Canadian side, and rushing into a depression in the steep cliff, emerges from it 
 almost at a right angle. This place is known as the whirlpool, and presents the appearance of having 
 been hollowed out by a violent eddy. The river then flows on over an inclined bed until it reaches 
 Lake Ontario. In its short passage of thirty-three miles there is a total fall of 334 feet. 
 
 It is a theory of some scientific men that at one time the drainage of the Lakes was through the 
 various western rivers to the Gulf of Mexico. It is believed that this was changed by a great tidal 
 wave, and that the Erie bank was broken down, and a channel excavated whose bed was lower than 
 the surface of the lake ; and that the water rushing out became the Niagara river. 
 
 THE GREAT HORSESHOE CURVE ON THE PENN- 
 SYLVANIA RAILROAD. 
 
 KlTTANNING Point, on the Pennsylvania Railroad, is about two hundred and forty-two 
 miles from Philadelphia. Five miles eastward is Altoona in the Alleghenies, at an elevation of 
 nearly twelve hundred feet above tide-water. It is from the word alto , referring to this lofty 
 situation, that it receives its name. In 1849 there were three farms where now the city stands ; 
 marshes, swamps, and ponds abounded, and on all sides an impenetrable wilderness extended. 
 There were few or no manufactories or mines, and the coal and iron wealth of the region lay 
 undisturbed in the earth. The railroad company needed a station near this place for the erection 
 of workshops. They selected this site, purchased a farm for ten thousand dollars, laid out a 
 town, and commenced improvements. The owners of the adjoining farms marked off and sold 
 lots, and a city sprang up with marvellous rapidity. Some differences between the farmers who 
 owned the ground on which the future town was to stand produced consequences of an amusing 
 and peculiar character that are to-day apparent in the crooked streets. It took some years to 
 provide attractions of a kind that would keep the more intelligent classes as residents in the city, 
 but churches, schools, and places of amusement came in time, and under the impetus of the 
 liberal spirit displayed by the railroad company Altoona was made to assume an aspect of 
 comfort and prosperity. The railroad company erected and .maintained a good school, supplied 
 the town with its first fire-engine, took the lead in introducing a supply of water, and largely 
 helped in the organization and support of a public library and reading-room. Over one hundred 
 and twenty acres of ground are occupied in the city by the shops, factories, and offices of the 
 railroad, all of which are constructed in a substantial and handsome manner of brick, and arc 
 equipped with the finest tools and machinery that money can buy. 
 
 The scenery in the neighborhood is of the most varied and imposing character, in many 
 places attaining to grandeur. From two high hills on the north and south of the city views of 
 mountain and valley are obtained that extend for miles, and about six miles distant there is a 
 spur of the Alleghenies, called “ Wapsononoc,” from which the eye can sweep the entire valley 
 of the Juniata. When Altoona was first selected for the site of the railroad’s workshops, and 
 
42 
 
 THE GREAT HORSESHOE CURVE. 
 
 for five years thereafter, the ascent across the mountains that here began was made by a process 
 slow, difficult, hazardous, and liable to many interruptions. Part of the way immense 
 locomotives drew the trains up the steep grade, part of the way horses were used, and for 
 another part — the steepest and severest grade of all — the trains were drawn by wire ropes worked 
 by stationary engines. Frequent stops were necessary, derangements of machinery were 
 
 numerous, and wintry storms that swept the mountain sides often made the stoppage of travel an 
 imperative necessity. In 1854, by means of a tunnel, and with the aid of engineering skill of the 
 highest and most admirable order, the road was continued without break over and through the 
 mountains, and trains were enabled to speed without interruption from Altoona westward. 
 
VIEW AT ALLEGRIPPUS, 
 
44 
 
 THE GREAT HORSESHOE CURVE . 
 
 The road rises more than ninety feet to the mile on leaving Altoona. The train leaves the 
 valley further and further below, and rises with every moment to higher and grander prospects. 
 Range on range of mountains leap into view and meet the sky in the hazy distance. At an 
 immense distance underneath are miniature trees and toy cottages, and the traveller seems to 
 leave the earth and penetrate into the clouds. Five miles being left behind, a point is reached 
 where two deep chasms are encountered, to pass which all the resources of engineering art had to 
 be called into requisition. Upon a vast embankment, built in the shape of a horseshoe, the 
 railroad here makes a grand curve whose sides run parallel to each other, so that trains making 
 for the same destination might really appear to be travelling in entirely opposite directions. On 
 one side of the track rise stupendous mountain walls, and on the other descends abruptly the 
 deep chasm of the valley. Kittanning Point is the name given to this spot, so named from an 
 Indian path or trail that crossed the mountain through this gorge. Coal is extensively mined in 
 the neighborhood. 
 
 A short distance beyond this place an easy mountain pass is reached, through which the road 
 continues its ascent steadily until it enters the tunnel that pierces the summit of the Alleghenies. 
 Before reaching the dark gateway which has here been cut through the mountain range, Allegrip- 
 pus is passed— a station from which the vision extends without limit over all the surrounding 
 country. An endless succession of mountains and valleys, dotted with forests, farms, factories 
 and dwellings, rivers and ponds, is spread in varying beauty beneath the enchanted eye. The 
 prospect that the traveller beholds at Allegrippus leaves a lasting impression on his memory. 
 Soon thereafter the tunnel is reached, the summit of the mountain range is penetrated, and then 
 begins a steady and unobstructed descent to the west. 
 
 Among the public buildings of Altoona are eleven churches, an opera-house, large public- 
 school buildings, banking institutions, and four hotels. One of these, the Logan House, named 
 after the famous Indian chieftain, known all over the country as one of the finest hotels in the 
 United States, was opened by the railroad company to accommodate its many travellers, and is a 
 model for houses of its kind. One hundred and twenty-two acres of ground are occupied for 
 business purposes by the Pennsylvania Railroad Company. On this are erected, in addition to 
 the Logan blouse, the passenger station, freight warehouse, offices of the general superintendent 
 of transportation, and many other buildings. These buildings are of brick, substantially con- 
 structed on the most approved plans, and the tools and machinery used in them are the best that 
 can be produced. 
 
 DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER. 
 
 T HE history of the Mississippi is in some respects sufficiently interesting. The expedition of 
 De Soto, by whom it was discovered, was one of the most unfortunate of the many that were 
 set on foot to search for riches in the wilds of the New World ; and the subsequent struggle for the 
 right to navigate the river fills an attractive page in the history of America. Although De Soto was 
 the first white man who gazed upon the Mississippi, the credit of exploring it belongs to Marquette, 
 a Catholic priest, and to Joliet, the Canadian trader. These men descended the Wisconsin river to 
 the Mississippi, and paddled down the latter in light canvas a distance of eleven hundred miles. By 
 virtue of their discoveries France claimed possession of the whole of the Mississippi \ alley, and 
 that region was subsequently called Louisiana, after the king who then reigned. It remained a 
 French province until 1762, when it was ceded to Spain, and continued the property ol that power 
 until the year 1800, when it was ceded back to France. 
 
 During the time that Louisiana was under the dominion of Spain, frequent disputes arose between 
 the United States and the Spanish authorities respecting the right to navigate the Mississippi, which 
 at that time was our western boundary. On two occasions these disputes very nearly provoked a war, 
 while at another time the trouble had taken such a form that the State of Kentucky, having obtained 
 a promise of recognition from Spain and of permission to use the Mississippi ior commercial pui- 
 poses, was on the point of seceding from the Union and of declaring itselt a separate sovereignty. 
 After France had regained possession of Louisiana, the United States Government instructed Mr. 
 
DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER. 
 
 45 
 
 Livingstone, then our minister at Paris, to begin negotiations for the purchase of New Orleans. 
 Napoleon was at that time First Consul of France, and it was one of his favorite projects to colonize 
 Louisiana, and thus counterbalance the influence of the English colonies in the East ; but before his 
 plans had matured, a war arose between England and France. Mr. Livingstone, whose previous 
 negotiations had proved futile, saw his opportunity and again pressed his offer for the purchase of 
 New Orleans, calling attention to a proposition in the London papers, to send 50,000 men to take 
 that fort. Napoleon, fearing that such a step might be taken, sold our Government all the terri- 
 tory between New Orleans and Oregon for $15,000,000. The cession was made in April, 1803. 
 
 Only two generations have passed away since that time, and what a marvelous change has come 
 over the ceded territory. From Minnesota to the Gulf the bank of the great river is covered with 
 cities, factories and plantations, and the wilderness that once extended from its western bank to the 
 Pacific coast, is built up into powerful and flourishing communities. 
 
 The Mississippi takes its rise in Minnesota, 3,160 miles from the Gulf of Mexico, and 1,680 feet 
 above the level of the ocean, lat. 4 7 0 N., long. 95 0 54' W. A little pool fed by the neighboring hills 
 discharges a little rivulet, scarcely a span in breadth, and meandering over sand and pebbles, and 
 blending with it here and there a kindred rivulet, it ripples on, forming a number of basins, until it 
 subsides at last into Itaska Lake. Issuing from the lake it first flows northward through several 
 small lakes, and then in various directions, forming Cass Lake, Lake Winnipeg, and a number of 
 other bodies of water. Finally, directing its course southward, it begins to show promise of becom- 
 ing the mighty river that, at its maturity, commands the admiration of mankind. 
 
 Large steamboats ascend the river from New Orleans to St. Paul, and indeed as far as Fort 
 Snelling, just below the Falls of St. Anthony, and the river is navigable to small steamers for nearly 
 two hundred miles above the Falls. The country beyond the Great Falls, of surpassing beauty and 
 fertility, has within the last twenty years been added to civilization by the great tide of German immi- 
 gration, which has steadily flowed in that direction ; and there is no doubt but that this country, with 
 its natural advantages and the industry of its population, possesses all the elements of a wealthy 
 and powerful commonwealth. In 1848, on the site of the present city of St. Paul, there stood a few 
 log huts ; and across the river the Indian roamed in his wildness and freedom on his own soil. With 
 the development of the country of which it is the capital, has arisen the city of St. Paul, having a 
 population of over twenty thousand, with handsome public buildings, stores and factories. Above 
 St. Paul are the magnificent FAlls of St. Anthony. Here may be seen the sublime spectacle 
 
 The Falls of St. Anthony. 
 
46 
 
 DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER. 
 
 Down the Mississippi. 
 
 of the whole volume of the waters of the Mississippi rushing and foaming along a bed of huge rocks, 
 and falling at one part of the cataract, nearly twenty feet perpendicularly. The tumultuous rapids 
 above and below the Falls, the piles of rock, the swift current and the spray, produce a coup deoil, at 
 once beautiful and imposing. The river is here about six hundred yards in width, and in its descent 
 is divided by Cataract Island. A dam having been constructed from this point to the eastern shore, 
 almost the whole volume of water now rushes through the western channel. On the east side of the 
 cataract is the city of St. Anthony, which, started in 1849, has steadily increased in prosperity, and 
 is now connected, by a suspension bridge, with the city of Minneapolis on the western side. 
 
 The Mississippi and its affluents are noted the world over for their steamboats. These are some- 
 times three hundred feet long, and have three decks. The lower one is for freight, the middle for 
 freight and passengers, and the third (called the “ Hurricane deck”) contains the wheel-house and 
 the sleeping accommodations of the cabin employees. The grand cabin is on the second deck, and 
 extends over the whole of the boat, with the exception of a small space at the bows. It is gorgeously 
 furnished, and is finished in white and gold. The passengers on board are good evidence of the 
 cosmopolitan nature of our population. Immigrants from every country in Europe throng the deck, 
 and in the cabin are seen a strange commingling of the various types of our social life. 
 
 Embarking on board of one of these boats at St. Paul to descend the river, we steam away until 
 we reach Lake Pepin. Everybody knows that Lake Pepin is caused by an expansion of the Missis- 
 sippi River, which gives it for a distance of twenty-five miles all the appearance of a lake. Its 
 breadth here averages three miles. There are no islands in Lake Pepin, but all along its shores are 
 high bluffs of picturesque forms, crowned with shrubbery. High above all the rest looms the bare 
 front of the “ Maiden’s Rock,” grand in nature, and interesting in its romantic associations. It has 
 a sad story to tell to each passer-by ; and as each passer-by always repeats it, we will not be an 
 exception. 
 
DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER. 
 
 47 
 
 Winona, a beautiful girl of Wapasha’s tribe, loved a young hunter, and promised to become his 
 bride. Her parents, like too many in Christian lands, were ambitious, and promised her to a distin- 
 guished young warrior, who had smote manfully the hostile Chippewas. The maiden refused the 
 hand of the brave, and clung to the fortunes of the hunter, who had been driven to the wilderness 
 by menaces of death. The indignant father declared his determination to wed her to the warrior 
 that very day. The family were encamped upon Lake Pepin, in the shadow of the great rock. 
 Starting like a frightened fawn at the cruel announcement, she swiftly climbed to the summit of the 
 cliff, and there, with bitter words, reproached her friends for their cruelty to the hunter and her own 
 heart. She then commenced singing her dirge. The relenting parents, seeing the peril of their child, 
 besought her to come down, and take her hunter-lover for a husband. But the maiden too well knew 
 the treachery that was hidden in their promises, and when her dirge was ended, she leaped from the 
 lofty pinnacle, and fell among the rocks and shrubbery at its base, a martyr to true affection. 
 
 A notable feature of the Mississippi and of its tributaries is the raft. Rafts are masses of float- 
 ing timber which find a ready sale at the numerous saw-mills in the vicinity of New Orleans. The 
 flat-boat (sometimes called “ broadhorn ”) is built of plank, and is sometimes a hundred feet long, 
 and thirty broad. It is rectangular, and sometimes roofed over, and is used to carry the produce of 
 the farmers to the large cities along the river banks. Occasionally a lumberman takes his family 
 with him on board his raft, and it is to be hoped that these civilizing influences will, in the course 
 of time, as in the case of the boatmen on the Erie Canal, do something toward ameliorating the 
 manners of these rude pioneers. 
 
 Among other points of interest, mention must be made of Trempileau Island, a rocky height 
 which rises to an altitude of five hundred and sixty feet. The romantic beauty and picturesqueness 
 of this island amply justifies the poetic name bestowed upon it by the French, who called it “ Mont 
 qui trempe a I'eatl (Mountain which dips in the water). Below this point is the busy city of La 
 Crosse. Here the Valley of the Mississippi increases in width and the hills are lost in the distance. 
 In this part of the river are a great number of small islands which add greatly to the romantic 
 beauty of the scene. Along the shore on each side are scattered towns more or less interested in 
 the transportation of cereals ; but this business is, each succeeding year, becoming in a greater 
 degree monopolized by Dubuque. After a junction with the Wisconsin river we approach Dubuque, 
 the largest commercial city of Iowa. Pursuing our course we at last arrive at the famous Rock 
 
DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER. 
 
 Island, three miles long, 
 and having an area of a 
 thousand acres. Upon 
 this island government 
 has erected arsenals and 
 formidable fortifications. 
 On the east side of the 
 river in Illinois is the city 
 of Rock Island, on the 
 west side, in Iowa, the 
 city of Davenport. The 
 rapids which here extend 
 for a distance of fifteen 
 miles, interfere greatly 
 with navigation, and 
 make it very difficult to 
 ascend the river with 
 heavily - laden freight- 
 boats. Steam-boat men 
 complain bitterly of the 
 railroad draw - bridges 
 which connect the Illi- 
 nois and Iowa shores 
 with Rock Island, and it 
 must in fairness be con- 
 ceded, bearing in mind 
 the natural obstacles 
 that they have to over- 
 come at this point, that 
 this additional impedi- 
 ment presses rather hard- 
 ly on them. 
 
 Between Rock Island 
 and St. Louis there is lit- 
 tle of interest. But what 
 a spectacle is unfolded to 
 our view as we approach 
 the city which is pre- 
 eminently the “ Queen of 
 the Mississippi.” “ The 
 town seems as old as 
 London. The smoke 
 from the Illinois coal has 
 tinged the walls a vener- 
 able brown, and the 
 grouping ot buildings is 
 as picturesque and varied 
 as that of a continental 
 city. From the water 
 side, on ridge alter ridge, 
 rise acres of solidly built 
 houses, vast manufacto- 
 ries, magazines ol com- 
 merce, long avenues bor- 
 dered with splendid resi- 
 dences ; a labyrinth of 
 railways bewilders the 
 
DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI PIPED. 
 
 49 
 
 eye ; and the clang of machinery and the whirl of a myriad wagon-wheels rise to the ear. The 
 levee is thronged with busy and uncouth laborers ; dozens of white steamers are shrieking their 
 notes of arrival and departure ; the ferries are choked with traffic ; a gigantic and grotesque scram- 
 ble for the almost limitless West beyond is spread out before the vision.” 
 
 The first habitations on the site of the present city were erected in 1764, by Laclede Liguest, 
 who, the previous year, had started from the French colony of New Orleans to explore the turbid 
 waters of the Missouri. It does not appear that his expedition was very successful, for he speedily 
 returned from the confluence of the two rivers to St. Louis, the new outpost named after Louis XV., 
 the reigning king of France. Subsequently the whole of the vast territory known as Louisiana was 
 ceded by France to Spain. Notwithstanding the heart-burnings which the occupation of a French 
 city by Spanish soldiers caused, a fusion soon took place, and both parties agreed in heartily hating 
 the English. After many vicissitudes the whole settlement, being a part of what was then known 
 as Louisiana, was, in 1804, annexed to the United States. “ Since the late war,” says a recent 
 writer, “ the town has leaped into a new life, it has doubled its population, its manufactures and its 
 ambition, until it stands so fully abreast of its wonderful neighbor, Chicago, that the traditional 
 acerbity of the reciprocal criticism for which both cities have so long been famous is latterly much 
 enhanced. The city, which now stretches twelve miles along the ridges, branching from the water- 
 shed between the Missouri, the Maramec and the Mississippi rivers, flanked by rolling prairies richly 
 studded with groves and vineyards ; which has many railroad lines pointed to its central depots, and 
 a mile and a half of steamboats at its levee, a thousand miles from the sea ; whose population has 
 increased from 8,000, in 1835, to 450,000, in 1873 ; which has a banking capital of nineteen millions ; 
 which receives hundreds of thousands of tons of iron ore monthly, has bridged the Father of Waters, 
 and talks of controlling the cotton trade of Arkansas and Texas, — is but little like the St. Louis of 
 the days when Col. Stoddard had his headquarters in a rude cottage, and the United States, in his 
 person, had just adopted the infant city.” 
 
 The bridge, of which we furnish an illustration, will have a vast influence on the fortunes of the 
 city. Work was begun on it in January, 1868. The stonework was finished last December, and the 
 superstructure completed in May, 1874. The caisson-work is said to be a marvel of engineering 
 skill, and laid even deeper than that of the Brooklyn Bridge. The eastern abutment rests on a solid- 
 foundation 1 10.6 feet below the surface. The masonry measures 103,000 cubic yards — 39,000 yards 
 more than the famous structure over Menai Straits, in North Wales, England. The centre span is 
 520 feet clear of the piers, and the bridge proper is 1,627 feet long- It accommodates two double 
 railway tracks, foot-walks, street-railway tracks, and a track for ordinary vehicles. The entire cost 
 of the structure was about $11,000,000. It was opened on the 4th of July, 1874, with appropriate 
 ceremonies, amid a grand display of fireworks and oratory. 
 
 The river is the principal highway to all the cities along its banks, and whenever it is closed 
 owing to low water or ice, there is an immediate and severe depression in business. All varieties of 
 boats are seen on the Mississippi. The fine large steamboats, the strong flat-bottomed packets, the 
 cruisers to the Upper Mississippi, and the Missouri barges laden with iron, lead, coal and copper, the 
 huge grain transports, and rafts of every size. When the ice-gorge comes, the boatmen on the 
 Upper Mississippi suffer severely. Property to the value of hundreds of thousands of dollars is 
 often lost at this time. 
 
 The velocity of the current increases below St. Louis, the river having, above the city, received 
 the vast volume of, the Missouri, but the scenery is attended with a degree of sameness that leaves 
 little room for description. Probably at no portion of the three thousand miles of its course is the 
 Mississippi more uninteresting than in the vicinity of Cairo, where the waters of the Ohio River join 
 it. Not by any means a desirable place of abode is Cairo, and the severe description given of 
 it in Dickens’ American Notes is not unmerited. 
 
 “ At length we arrived at a spot so much more desolate than any we had yet beheld, that the 
 forlornest places we had passed were, in comparison with it, full of interest. At the junction of the 
 two rivers, on ground so flat and low and marshy that at certain seasons of the year it is inundated 
 to the house-tops, lies a breeding-place of fever, ague, and death. A dismal swamp, on which the 
 half-built houses rot away ; cleared here and there for the space of a few yards ; and teeming, then, 
 with rank unwholesome vegetation, in whose baleful shade the wretched wanderers who are tempted 
 hither, droop, and die, and lay their bones ; the hateful Mississippi circling and eddying before it, 
 and turning off upon its southern course, a slimy monster hideous to behold. * * * * 
 

 U P. 
 
DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER. 
 
 5i 
 
 “ The decline of day here was very gorgeous ; tingeing the firmament deeply with red and gold, 
 up to the very keystone of the arch above us. As the sun went down behind the bank, the slightest 
 blades of grass upon it seemed to become as distinctly visible as the arteries in the skeleton of a 
 leaf, and when, as it slowly sank, the red and golden bars upon the water grew dimmer, and dimmer 
 yet, as if they were sinking too ; and all the glowing colors of departing day paled, inch by inch, 
 before the sombre night ; the scene became a thousand times more lonesome and more dreary than 
 before, and all its influences darkened with the sky.” 
 
 Mr. Dickens here, by indulging in generalization, like so many other travelers from time imme- 
 morial, did great injustice to the Mississippi. Before its confluence with the Missouri River, its 
 waters are of remarkable purity ; after the junction they contain about three-tenths of sedimentary 
 matter. We hardly need say, too, that the towns of the more northern part of the river are as 
 bright, and as clean and healthy, as any to be found on the surface of our broad land. 
 
 Memphis, the most important port on the Mississippi between St. Louis and New Orleans, pre- 
 sents a remarkably fine appearance from the river. An esplanade, having a width of several hundred 
 feet and bordered with blocks of large warehouses, extends along the bluff in front of the town. It 
 
 The Levee. 
 
 has doubled in population in ten years, and now has forty-five thousand inhabitants. Vicksburg, 
 celebrated for its historic siege, Natchez, and Baton Rouge, the capital of Louisiana, are the other 
 principal river towns. 
 
 To those who have very magnificent conceptions of the Mississippi, founded on mere arithmetical 
 computations of leagues, or vague geographical data, it may be astonishing, but it is nevertheless 
 true, the Mississippi is artificial for many hundreds of miles. Nature has, of course, poured out the 
 waters, but man has made the banks. By a vast system of raised embankments, called levees, the 
 river is constrained to abstain from overflowing the swamps, now drained, and green with wealth- 
 producing crops. During the spring floods the surface of the river is several feet higher than the 
 land on each side, and the steamer moves on a level with the upper stories, or even the roofs of the 
 houses, reminding one of such scenery as could be witnessed in the old days of treckshuyt in Hol- 
 land. The river varies in width from 600 to 1,200 yards, but then it is one hundred and eighty feet 
 deep, and for hundreds of miles it has not less than one hundred feet of water. Thus deeply has it 
 scooped into the rich clay and marl in its course : but as it flows out to join the sea, it throws down 
 the vast precipitates which render the bars so shifting and difficult, and bring the mighty river to 
 
52 
 
 DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI PIPED. 
 
 such a poor exit. Great masses of earth, amounting to thousands of acres in the course of a year, 
 cave in annually and slide into the stream, uprooting great numbers of forest-trees, which float out 
 with the waters, and become the most dangerous obstructions to navigation. They accumulate on 
 sand-bars and in the short bends of the river, and are soon covered by deposits of earth, forming 
 new islands or high swampy land. Others will firmly fasten themselves in the channel and become 
 the perilous “ snag” or the formidable “ sawyer.” A few miles above the wharfs and large levees of 
 New Orleans, the country really appears to be a sea of light green, with shores of forest in the dis- 
 tance, about two miles away from the bank. Near the banks are houses of wood, with porticoes, 
 pillars, verandahs, and sun-shades, generally painted white and green. There is a great uniformity 
 of style, but the idea aimed at seems to be that of the old French chateau, with the addition of a 
 colonnade around the ground story. The levee is as hard and dry as the bank of the canal. 
 
 The spring floods, raising the river from fifty to seventy feet — at low water the stream is com- 
 paratively narrow, and on either side the banks are high and sandy — bring anxious days to the 
 inhabitants. Sometimes the current, wearing away the levee, overflows the country to the extent of 
 thirty miles. The destruction of property caused by these “ crevasses ” is very great. During 
 
 Removing Snags by Dredging. 
 
 the spring of 1874, a considerable portion of the State of Louisiana was under water, owing to one 
 of these crevasses, and thousands of persons were rendered homeless. The destruction of crops 
 and farming utensils made a famine so imminent, that the people were compelled to appeal for assist- 
 ance to Congress and the country at large. This last break is to be traced to the present corrupt 
 government of the State, which, instead of using for its legitimate purpose the money appropriated 
 for the repair of the levees, wasted or stole it.* 
 
 The city of New Orleans extends from the Mississippi river to the shores of Lake Pontchartrain ; 
 but part of this area, being covered by cypress swamps, remains to be filled up. The canals which 
 run from the city to the lake, are very picturesque; those known as Old and New Basin are both 
 navigable, and large steamers pass through them to the lake, and schooners laden with produce and 
 
 * A recent writer in Appleton's Journal argues against the policy of reclaiming lands by closing up the bayous. He 
 contends that the annual overflow of the Mississippi might be prevented by opening the mouths of the bayous, and allowing 
 the surplus waters of the Mississippi to find their way to the lakes, or the Gulf, through them. It is at the bends of the river, 
 where the water strikes the levees with the greatest force, that the bayous take their departure. If, therefore, say those who 
 hold these views, there is a way of limiting the strength of the current during the floods, bv letting the water How off by these 
 channels, and thus materially reducing its volume, the mouths of the bayous should be opened and levees built along their banks. 
 
DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER. 
 
 53 
 
 lumber are towed in and out by mules. The danger of 
 overflow from the Mississippi and the wet, marshy nature 
 of the soil, make good drainage a necessity to the health 
 of the population. Notwithstanding the severe blow 
 which the war gave the commercial interests of the city, 
 it is still one of the first ports of the country. When 
 some of the many plans which have been suggested to 
 make her the outlet for the grain product of the North- 
 west come to be executed, the increase to her business 
 prosperity will be immense. A capacious barge system 
 is at present in operation on the rivers, and an all-rail 
 communication with the two great cities of the North- 
 west will, probably, be established at an early day. The 
 Illinois Central Railroad, by building a line from Jackson, 
 Tenn., to the Ohio river opposite Cairo, will bring the 
 commercial interests of New Orleans in close relation 
 with those of Chicago, and make the journey between 
 the two cities a trip of only thirty six hours. 
 
 The city has two distinct parts — the American quar- 
 ter, and the French. The former is much superior in the 
 width of its avenues and the beauty of its architecture. 
 Among its notable buildings are the St. Charles Hotel, 
 the Academy of Music, the St. Charles Theatre, the 
 Masonic Hall, the Exposition Hall, and the City Hall. 
 The last-named structure is of granite and white marble, 
 built in the Ionic style, with a fine portico and massive 
 granite pillars. There are one hundred and sixteen 
 churches in the city, representing all shades of religious 
 belief ; but the Roman Catholic Church, owing to the 
 French population, is in the majority. 
 
 The cotton trade gives New Orleans much of its pic- 
 turesque vivacity, and contributes largely to its support. 
 It receives most of the cotton crop of Louisiana and 
 Northern Mississippi, of Northern Alabama, Arkansas, 
 and Florida. Between January and May, which is the 
 busy season of the year, the labor is almost unceasing 
 at the Cotton Exchange and in all the prominent ware- 
 houses. Some attention, also, has been given to the 
 manufacture of cotton, and two factories have already 
 been established which are clearing a profit of from 
 eighteen to twenty-five per cent. One of them is located 
 at Beauregard, the other at the penitentiary. 
 
 One of the greatest evils, from which New Orleans 
 suffers, is the enormity of its taxes. Its city debt is 
 estimated at twenty-three millions of dollars, and it is 
 responsible for nearly three-fifths of the State debt of 
 $42,000,000. The consequence of this condition of 
 things, arising from the notoriously corrupt government 
 which has been in power for the last few years, is that 
 the price of real estate has declined fifty per cent. Not- 
 withstanding these adverse influences, the census of 1870 
 gave New Orleans a population of one hundred and 
 ninety-one thousand, an increase of nearly fifty per cent 
 over that of i860. That the city should make any pro- 
 gress at all, in view of these drawbacks, speaks volumes 
 for its natural advantages, and proves it possessed of 
 
 Scene at Baton Rouge during the Floods of 1874. 
 
54 HOT SPRINGS AND GEYSERS OF THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 elements which, if properly appreciated, and in more propitious days, will raise it to the highest 
 commercial importance and prosperity. 
 
 It is a well-known peculiarity of the Mississippi, that, as it approaches its mouth, it grows nar- 
 rower. After passing New Orleans the depth of the river diminishes, and at a distance of one hun- 
 dred miles from the city the stream is lost in the low, marshy lands. Here the current is divided 
 into three channels, which flow through the half-formed soil, and out into the Gulf. Unfortunately 
 for the purposes of navigation the depth in these passes is never great, and varies under the 
 influence of wind and weather. 
 
 HOT SPRINGS AND GEYSERS OF THE 
 
 YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 The Hot Springs near Gardiner’s River. 
 
 N EAR the lower end of the third canon, 
 Gardiner’s River, a mountain torrent, 
 effects a junction with the Yellowstone, and it is 
 up the valley through which this stream flows, a 
 distance of four miles from the point where the 
 two rivers meet, that the famous hot springs are 
 located. It is hardly possible to find words to 
 express the desolation which here exists. Along 
 the valley are strewn boulders of volcanic rock ; 
 and stagnant lakes, from fifty to one hundred 
 feet in diameter, owing their existence to vol- 
 canic action in long gone ages, are scattered here 
 and there. It is necessary to make a divergence 
 of about two miles from the bed of the river, 
 across a most barren and elevated country, to 
 reach the first hot spring. This is six feet wide, 
 and has a depth of two feet, with a temperature 
 ranging from 126° to 132 0 Fahr. Still ascend- 
 ing, but returning toward the river-bed, we reach 
 four other springs, circular in their form, and 
 varying in diameter from six to ten feet. It is in 
 this vicinity that we find the extraordinary de- 
 posits formed by the springs in distant ages, the 
 snowy whiteness of which at once suggested the 
 name of White Mountain Hot Spring, from the 
 remarkable resemblance these deposits bear to 
 a frozen cascade. The deposits cover an area 
 of four square miles, but the springs in active 
 operation are to be found within an area of one 
 square mile. The oxide of iron in the water 
 gives the streams that flow down the White 
 Mountain the most beautiful tints of red, the 
 most exquisite shades of yellow, and the most 
 brilliant green. Falling down the declivity irom 
 one basin to the other, and gradually cooling in 
 its descent, the water becomes at a distance ol 
 five hundred yards from the first spring as cool 
 and clear as spring water. There are hun- 
 dreds of these reservoirs, and the party of Dr. 
 
GREAT FALLS OF THE YELLOWSTONE 
 
56 HOT SPRINGS AND GEYSERS OF THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 Boiling Sulphur Springs. 
 
 Hayden bathed in a great number of them, each individual being able to choose the degree of heat 
 agreeable to him. 
 
 The margins of the basins are beautifully scalloped, and formations of exquisite beauty are en- 
 crusted on them. The wonderful variety of these deposits excited the admiration of the party. 
 The report of Dr. Hayden says, in treating finally of this neighborhood : “But it is to the wonder- 
 ful variety of exquisitely delicate colors that this picture owes the main part of its attractiveness. 
 The little orifices from which the hot water issues are beautifully enameled with the porcelain-like 
 lining, and around the edges a layer of sulphur is precipitated. As the water flows along the valley, 
 it lays down in its course a pavement more beautiful and elaborate in its adornment, than art has 
 ever yet conceived. The sulphur and the iron, with the green microscopic vegetation, tint the 
 whole with an illumination of which no decoration-painter has ever dreamed. From the sides of the 
 oblong mound, which is here from thirty to fifty feet high, the water has oozed out at different points, 
 forming small groups of the semicircular, step-like basins. 
 
 “ Again, if we look at the principal group of springs from the high mound above the middle ter- 
 race, we can see the same variety of brilliant coloring. The wonderful transparency of the water 
 surpasses anything of the kind I have ever seen - in any other portion of the world. The sky, with 
 the smallest cloud that flits across it, is reflected in its clear depths, and the ultramarine colors, more 
 vivid than the sea, are greatly heightened by the constant gentle vibrations. One can look down 
 into the clear depths and see, with perfect distinctness, the minutest ornament on the inner sides of 
 the basins ; and the exquisite beauty of the coloring and the variety of forms baffle any attempt to 
 portray them, either with pen or pencil. And then, too, around the borders of these springs, espe- 
 cially those of rather low temperature, and on the sides and bottoms of the numerous little channels 
 of the streams that flow from these springs, there is a striking variety of the most vivid colors. I 
 can only compare them to our most brilliant aniline dyes — various shades of red, from the brightest 
 scarlet to a bright rose tint ; also yellow, from deep-bright sulphur, through all the shades, to light 
 cream-color. There are also various shades of gree i, from the peculiar vegetation. These springs 
 are also filled with minute vegetable forms, which under the microscope prove to be diatoms, among 
 ,rhich Dr. Billings discovers Palmclla and Oscillara. There are also in the little streams that flow 
 from the boiling springs great quantities of a fibrous, silky substance, apparently vegetable, which 
 vibrates at the slightest movement of the water, and has the appearance ot the finest quality ot 
 cashmere wool. When the waters are still these silken masses becopie incrusted with lime, the 
 delicate vegetable threads disappear, and a fibrous, spongy mass remains, like delicate snow- 
 white coral.” » 
 
 On the way from Mount Washburn to the Upper Falls the party of Mr. Langford came across 
 six or eight boiling springs of great size, which emitted large quantities of sulphurous vapor. “It 
 looked like nothing earthly we had ever seen, and the pungent fumes which filled the atmosphere 
 were not unaccompanied by a disagreeable sense of possible suffocation. Entering the basin cau- 
 tiously, we found the entire surface of the earth covered with the incrusted sinter thrown Irom the 
 
HOT SPRINGS AND GEYSERS QF THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 57 
 
 springs. Jets of hot vapor were expelled through a hundred natural orifices with which it was 
 pierced, and through every fracture made by passing over it. The springs themselves were as 
 diabolical in appearance as the witches’ caldron in Macbeth, and needed but the presence of Hecate 
 and her weird band to realize that horrible creation of poetic fancy. They were all in a state of 
 violent ebullition, throwing their liquid contents to the height of three or four feet. The largest 
 had a basin twenty by forty feet in diameter. Its greenish-yellow water was covered with bubbles, 
 which were constantly rising, bursting, and emitting sulphurous gas from various parts of its surface. 
 The central spring seethed and bubbled like a boiling caldron. Fearful volumes of vapor were con- 
 stantly escaping it. Near it was another, not so large, but more infernal in appearance. Its con- 
 tents, of the consistency of paint, were in constant, noisy ebullition. A stick thrust into it, on being 
 withdrawn, was coated with lead-colored slime a quarter of an inch in thickness. Nothing flows 
 from this spring. Seemingly, it is boiling down. A fourth spring, which exhibited the same physical 
 features, was partly covered by an overhanging ledge of rock. We tried to fathom it, but the 
 bottom was beyond the reach of the longest pole we could find. Rocks cast into it increase the 
 agitation of its waters. There were several other springs in the group, smaller in size, but presenting 
 the same characteristics. 
 
 “ The approach to them was unsafe, the incrustation surrounding them bending in many places 
 beneath our weight, — and from the fractures thus created would ooze a sulphury slime of the con- 
 sistency of mucilage. It was with great difficulty that we obtained specimens from the natural 
 apertures with which the crust is filled, — a feat which was accomplished by one only of our party, 
 who extended himself at full length upon that portion of the incrustation which yielded the least, but 
 which was not sufficiently strong to bear his weight while in an upright position, and at imminent 
 risk of sinking into the infernal mixture, rolled over and over to the edge of the opening, and with 
 the crest slowly bending and sinking beneath him, hurriedly secured the coveted prize.” 
 
 Between the Upper and the Lower Falls and Yellowstone Lake, which is the central gem of that 
 wonderful collection of long-hidden treasures, lies a marvelous region, filled with boiling springs and 
 craters, with two hills, three hundred feet high, formed wholly of the sinter thrown from the adjacent 
 springs ; and at the base of one of them is a cavern whose mouth is seven feet in diameter, from 
 whence a dense jet of sulphurous vapor explodes with a regular report like a high-pressure engine. 
 A few yards off is a boiling spring, seventy feet long by forty wide, the water of which is in unceas- 
 ing agitation ; and in another direction is a boiling alum spring, surrounded with beautiful crystals. 
 No wonder that the first beholders of these things called the various points by names of infernal 
 significance. There are now no true geysers in this group, but in ancient times there were very 
 powerful ones. The steam-vents on the side, and at the foot of these hills, represent the dying 
 stages of this once most active group. 
 
 But the real geyser region is just over the margin of the Yellowstone Basin, on the Firehole 
 River. The valley in which these wonderful phenomena are located is about twelve miles in length, 
 
 Hot Spring Cone. 
 
58 HOT SPRINGS AND GEYSERS OF THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 with an average width of three miles. It is said that there are more of these natural wonders in this 
 small area than can be found in the rest of the world. 
 
 The Firehole River flows from Madison Lake, one of the most beautiful of the many lovely 
 sheets of water in the mountains, and the volume of its waters is increased by the constant acces- 
 sion of mountain torrents, until just before reaching the geyser-basin, it falls over two cliffs, one 
 twenty, and the other fifty feet in height. “ These pretty falls, if located in an Eastern stream, 
 would be celebrated in history and song; here amid objects so grand as to stagger belief, they were 
 passed without a halt.” 
 
 Everybody knows that a geyser is an eruption of water from the earth to a considerable height 
 in the air ; but the power to which we owe these extraordinary manifestations of nature, its means 
 of action and the causes of its intermittent action, are not so generally understood. For a lucid 
 explanation of these phenomena we cannot do better than refer to the disquisition of the learned 
 scientist, Prof. Tyndall, on this subject. The particular geyser whose mechanism and development 
 he investigated, is the Great Geyser of Iceland ; but the principle of the geysers of the Firehole 
 Basin, and of those that have recently been discovered in the celebrated Lake District of New 
 Zealand, and of all similar springs, is the same. 
 
 “ It consists of a tube seventy-four feet deep and ten feet in diameter. The tube is surmounted 
 by a basin which measures from north to south fifty-two feet across, and from east to west sixty 
 feet. The interior of the tube and basin is coated with a beautiful smooth silicious plaster, so hard 
 
 as to resist the blows of a hammer ; and the first question is, 
 how was this wonderful tube constructed — how was this perfect 
 plaster laid on ? Chemical analysis shows that the water holds 
 silica in solution, and the conjecture might therefore arise that 
 the water had deposited the silica against the sides of the tube 
 and basin. But this is not the case : the water deposits no sedi- 
 ment ; no matter how long it may be kept, no solid substance is 
 separated from it. It may be bottled up and preserved for years 
 as crystal, without showing the slightest tendency to form a pre- 
 cipitate. To answer the question in this way would moreover 
 assume that the shaft was formed by some foreign agency, and 
 that the water merely lined it. The geyser basin, however, rests 
 upon a summit of a mound about forty feet high, and it is evident 
 from mere inspection that the mound has been deposited by the 
 geyser. But in building up this mound the spring must have 
 formed the tube which perforates the mound, and hence the con- 
 clusion tnat the geyser is the architect of its own tube. 
 
 “ If we place a quantity of geyser water in an evaporating 
 basin the following takes place : in the centre of the basin the 
 liquid deposits nothing, but at the sides where it is drawn up 
 by capillary attraction, and thus subjected to speedy evaporation, 
 we find silica deposited. Round the edge a ring of silica is 
 laid on, and not until the evaporation has continued a consider- 
 able time do we find the slightest turbidity in 
 the middle of the water. This experiment is 
 the microscopic representative of what oc- 
 curs in Iceland. Imagine the case of a sim- 
 ple thermal silicious spring, whose waters 
 trickle down a gentle inclosure ; the water 
 thus exposed evaporates speedily, and silica 
 is deposited. This deposit gradually elevates 
 the side over which the water passes until 
 finally the latter has to take another course. 
 The same takes place here, the ground is 
 elevated as before, and the spring has to move 
 forward. Thus it is compelled to travel round 
 Giant Geyser. and round, discharging its silica, and deep- 
 
HOT SPRINGS AND GEYSERS OF THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 59 
 
 ening the shaft in which it dwells, until finally, in the course of ages, the simple spring has pro- 
 duced this wonderful apparatus which has so long puzzled and astonished both the traveler and the 
 philosopher.” 
 
 The boiling springs, all in active eruption, with craters from three to forty feet high, are scattered 
 along both banks of the Firehole River ; and as the expedition hurried along, anxious to reach the 
 settlements of Madison Valley, they came in sight of an immense volume of clear, sparkling water, 
 projected into the air to the height of one hundred and twenty-five feet. “ Geysers, geysers ! ” they 
 shouted in concert ; and so they were, this one standing as a sentinel at the mouth of the marvel- 
 filled valley. It spouted at regular intervals nine times during the explorers’ stay, the columns of 
 boiling water being thrown from ninety to one hundred and twenty-five feet at each discharge, which 
 lasted from fifteen to twenty minutes. By a succession of impulses, it seemed to hold the column 
 up steadily in the air for the regular space, the great mass falling directly back into the basin, and 
 flowing over the edges and down the sides in large streams. When the action ceases, the water 
 recedes beyond sight, and nothing is heard but the occasional escape of steam until another exhibi- 
 tion occurs. The description of one of the geysers, of which there are hundreds, suffices for all, as 
 to general features, but the difference in their dimensions is considerable, and the mounds and pro- 
 jecting rims are of various, though always extraordinary beauty. “ The great beauty of the pris- 
 matic colors,” writes Dr. Hayden, “ depends much on the sunlight ; about the middle of the day, 
 
 Castle Geyser and Fire Basin. 
 
 when the bright rays descend nearly vertically, and a slight breeze just makes a ripple on the sur- 
 face, the colors exceed comparison ; when the surface is calm there is one vast chaos of colors, 
 dancing, as it were, like the colors of a kaleidoscope. As seen through this marvelous play of colors, 
 the decorations on the sides of the basin are lighted up with a wild, weird beauty, which wafts one 
 at once into the land of enchantment ; all the brilliant feats of fairies and genii in the Arabian 
 Nights’ Entertainments are forgotten in the actual presence of such marvelous beauty ; life becomes 
 a privilege and a blessing after one has seen and thoroughly felt its cunning skill.” 
 
 Of one, which they called the Castle Geyser, Dr. Hayden writes : “ It is the most imposing forma- 
 tion in the valley, and receives its name from its resemblance to the ruins of an old fortress. The 
 deposited silica has crystallized in immense globular masses, like cauliflowers, or spongiform corals, 
 apparently formed about a nucleus at right angles to the centre. The mound is forty, and the chim- 
 ney twenty feet high, and the lower portion rises in steps formed of thin laminae of silica, an inch or 
 two thick. The base of the crater is three hundred and twenty-five feet in circumference, and the 
 turret is one hundred and twenty-five. At the base of the turret lies a large petrified pine-log, cov- 
 ered with a brilliant incrustation several inches thick.” 
 
 The Grand Geyser is the finest object of the kind yet discovered in the world ; and the variety 
 of these wonderful things is astonishing. Their number is not less than fifteen hundred, but scarcely 
 any two are alike. The explorers’ suspicion that many quiet-looking springs were slumbering gey- 
 sers, was justified by a magnificent surprise. Their camp was roused in the early morning by a fear- 
 
6o HOT SPRINGS AND GEYSERS OF THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 The Grotto. 
 
 fill hissing sound, and the rush of falling water ; and, on looking out, they saw a small crater, three 
 feet in height, with an opening twenty-six inches in diameter, which had hardly excited any notice, 
 playing a perpendicular jet to the height of two hundred and nineteen feet, amid great clouds of 
 steam, and causing the ground to tremble as the heavy body of water fell with tremendous splashes 
 upon the shelly strata below. Huge masses of rock were torn from their places, and borne away into 
 the river-channel. It played steadily for ten minutes. 
 
 The “ Giant Geyser,” writes Lieutenant Doane, “ played several times while we were in the 
 valley, on one occasion throwing constantly for over three hours a stream of water seven feet in 
 diameter, from ninety to two hundred feet perpendicularly, while it doubled the size of the Firehole 
 River.” 
 
 Near the Giant is the Grotto, so named from its curious formation. This geyser plays a volume 
 of water six feet in diameter to a height of sixty feet. The excitement and pleasure of exploring 
 such scenes as those presented by the Upper and Lower Geyser Basins of the Firehole River can- 
 not be exaggerated in imagination. Every moment brought some fresh wonder to light, every hour 
 chronicled a surprise, frequently mingled with awe. The mighty ranges of mountains, the tremen- 
 dous ravines, the awful evidences of the rule of the Fire King (his power slumbering now, indeed, 
 
THE EAST RIVER. 
 
 61 
 
 but still asserted in the geysers and the mud volcanoes, and the impress of this terrible pa ^age, in 
 the dead ages, on the face of nature everywhere around) ; the beautiful rivers, the far-spreading 
 forests, with their noble denizens — elk, buffalo, and deer ; the pine-crowned promontories, and the 
 fair table-lands, which unite to form the exquisite picture of this remote region, six thousand feet 
 above the sea-level, and dating from the Pliocene age, is but the setting of the gem whieh sparkles 
 on the summit of it all — the peerless Yellowstone Lake, the “ Crown of the Continent.” Of this 
 lovely sheet of water we gave a full description, with an illustration, in a preceding part of this volume. 
 
 HE East River is really a part of Long Island Sound, whose water it unites with the Atlantic 
 
 Ocean through New York Bay. Until quite recently it was along its banks that the maritime 
 business of New York was concentrated. With the constant increase in the commerce of the city 
 the occupation of the wharves on the North River became necessary, but a large proportion of 
 the ocean traffic and the bulk of the coasting trade are still conducted on the Eastern side. Leav- 
 ing “ The Battery ” on the left, and sailing up the river, an interesting panorama is spread before 
 the eye. As far as one can follow the windings of the river it is instinct with life and action. Vessels 
 of all kinds, flying the flags of all nations, form a spectacle which is really bewildering. On the 
 wharves are piled up great quantities of merchandise for export or for transport to the interior, and 
 hundreds of men and vehicles move busily about. 
 
 Conspicuous are the great packet-ships which sail between New York and European ports. 
 These lie generally at the wharves of ancient New York, below Wall Street, which was at one 
 time the boundary line of the city, whence it derived its name. Further up the river numerous 
 ferry-boats may be seen plying between New York and Brooklyn. At the present time there are 
 nearly a dozen ferries to Brooklyn and vicinage, all well supplied with good and fast steamboats 
 that have an average burden of four hundred tons. So great is the travel over these vessels that 
 at certain hours of the day they carry nearly a thousand passengers each on a single trip, besides 
 horses and vehicles. 
 
 We have, in a preceding part of this work, described the Brooklyn Bridge, the most conspicuous 
 object on the river. At the foot of Tenth Street is the great Dry Dock, which is said to be the 
 largest of its kind in the world. Ten years of labor and eighty thousand tons of stone were devoted 
 to its construction, and so perfect is its mode of operation, and so great are its power and capacity, 
 that the largest vessel may be lifted out of water and secured for repairs in less than five hours. 
 
 The ferry to Blackwell’s Island is at the foot of Sixty-first Street, which is a narrow strip of land 
 about a mile long, and is the most southerly of the group of islands that have so long been the sites 
 of various important charitable and reform institutions belonging to New York. Blackwell’s Island 
 contains the Workhouse, the Lunatic Asylum, and the Almshouse. Drunkenness and petty offences 
 of all kinds are the principal qualifications for a residence in the first-named institution. It is the 
 newest of the buildings, but certainly the busiest. Previous to its erection, the class of prisoners 
 that now fill it were distributed among the District Prisons, the Penitentiary, the Tombs, and the 
 Almshouse. The northern wing contains the female wards, and the southern wing the male. There 
 are three stories to the main edifice, and the cross-buildings at the end of each wing have four 
 stories and a loft. In these end-buildings are the work-rooms, the reception-rooms, and the officers’- 
 rooms. The main building contains the apartments of the warden and physicians, the kitchen, the 
 laundries, and the church auditory. The structure is of blue stone. There are also several out- 
 houses, in which are the shops, the stable, and the boat-house for the Warden’s and the Resident 
 Physician’s crew. The work-house was originally intended to be a kind of House of Industry, and 
 during the first two years of its existence its occupants were paid for their labor ; this was, however, 
 soon abolished, and it became a penal institution. The majority of the prisoners on the Island are 
 sent there for drunkenness, vagrancy, and assault, and come mostly from the slums of New York. 
 
 In the Lunatic Asylum the patients are mainly from the poorer classes, and are principally 
 women. Mania afflicts more than four-fifths of them, the disease of the remaining fifth being de- 
 mentia, general paralysis or idiocy. Mania includes the violent forms of mental disease as well as 
 
 THE EAST RIVER. 
 
THE EAST RIVER. 
 
 6 3 
 
 confirmed delusions. The building has no rooms stronger than the usual sleeping apartments of a 
 hotel, and the only attempt at security is in the cast-iron sashes of the windows ; and these may be 
 easily broken. The building is well-adapted for the more harmless forms of insanity, but is too 
 insecure for cases where there are dangerous propensities ; while to convicts who feign mental 
 derangement in the hope of escape, the greatest facilities to that end are afforded. 
 
 No description of the East River would be complete without giving some account of the 
 endeavors that have for some years been made for the removal of the dangerous rocks at the poinJ 
 known as Hell Gate, situated just above Blackwell’s Island. Ever since the first settlement of 
 New York, the existence of these rocks has been a thorn in the side of those interested in 
 maritime pursuits, and has absolutely precluded the use of the shorter route by the Sound to large 
 sea-going vessels. Although the direct saving in distance is but fifty miles, practically, allowance 
 being made for the time usually lost by vessels of large burden beating about at Sandy Hook, 
 waiting for high water to cross the bar, their removal would shorten the time consumed on a 
 transatlantic voyage at least one day. 
 
 At Hell Gate a number of islands of rocks lie in the middle of the stream, which is here un- 
 usually strong and violent. This disturbance of the waters is caused by the difference of elevation be- 
 tween the two tidal waves whose waters here come together — one entering from the Sound, the other 
 by way of Sandy Hook. These two waves meet and battle for victory within a space of less than 
 four thousand feet. The eddies and miniature whirlpools which prevail at this point are the con- 
 sequence of this tidal disturbance. 
 
 The following eloquent description by Irving gives some idea of the violence of the current owing 
 to its forcible compression between shouldering rocks and promontories : “ Being at the best of 
 times a very violent and impetuous current, it takes these impediments in mighty dudgeon ; boiling 
 in whirlpools ; brawling and fretting in ripples ; raging and roaring in rapids and breakers ; and, in 
 short, indulging in all kinds of wrong-headed paroxysms. At such times, woe to any unlucky vessel 
 that ventures within its clutches. This termagant humor, however, prevails only at certain times of 
 tide. At low water, for instance, it is as pacific a stream as you would wish to see. But as the tide 
 rises it begins to fret ; at half-tide it roars with might and main, like a bull bellowing for more drink ; 
 but when the tide is full, it relapses into quiet, and for a time sleeps as soundly as an alderman after 
 dinner. In fact, it may be compared to a quarrelsome toper, who is a peaceable fellow enough 
 when he has no liquor at all, or when he has a skinful, but who, when half-seas over, plays the 
 very devil.” The difficulty of making a safe passage of this point was so great that before any 
 attempt was made to improve the channel, a thousand vessels a year were either lost or seriously 
 damaged by running against the rocks. “To steer a vessel through these intricate passages, through 
 which the water runs with such speed, breaks noisily even in the calmest times upon the rocky 
 shores and islands, and whirls in a thousand dizzying eddies, requires,” says the Government surveyor, 
 “ a cool head and a steady hand, even with the superior help of steam. But in a sailing-vessel the 
 greatest skill and self-possession, without a commanding wind, prove insufficient to guard against 
 certain danger.” 
 
 Operations against Hell Gate were not begun before 1851. The first engineer who undertook 
 the gigantic task of clearing the rocks was a M. Maillefert, a Frenchman. This gentleman had been 
 successful in removing the obstruction in the harbor of Nassau and elsewhere. It was found, how- 
 ever, that his plan of operation, which consisted of exploding charges of gunpowder against the rock, 
 was only partially successful in removing masses of projecting rock, and was totally inadequate to 
 displace reefs of solid bed-rock. In brief, M. Maillefert’s plan was only effective when used against 
 small bodies of isolated rock. Nevertheless a considerable improvement in the channel resulted 
 from his labors. 
 
 The civil war caused a suspension of all operations against Hell Gate; but in 1866 General 
 Newton was assigned by the War Department to make a report as to the best means of removing 
 the obstructions. He recommended the direction of all energies toward the main channel. 
 Advertisements containing specifications of the work to be accomplished were issued, but so 
 little was its nature understood that bids were received varying in amount from $38,000 to $500,000. 
 The contract was awarded to the lowest bidder. This gentleman, Mr. Sidney F. Shelbourne, 
 who proposed to work by drilling and exploding the rocks, did little more than make various 
 experiments and demonstrate, at the cost to himself of twenty thousand dollars, the impossibility 
 of certain modes of operation, before the time specified in his contract expired, and the contract 
 was withdrawn. 
 
OPENING OF THE SHAFT BENEATH HELL GATE. 
 
THE YOSEMITE VALLEY. 
 
 65 
 
 Some idea of the nature of the difficulties to be overcome can be formed from the report of Gen. 
 Newton, dated December 19, 1868 : “The removal of rocks in Hell Gate is attended with peculiar 
 difficulty. The current is extremely rapid, so that divers could not be sent down, in most places, to 
 regulate and set the drills, except at slack water. This fact requires that the drill should act inde- 
 pendently of manual assistance, and therefore peculiar and ingenious devices are required. But the 
 more formidable evil is the chance, unavoidable in the long run, of being collided with, from the 
 number of vessels, daily increasing, which frequent this narrow pass.” This latter consideration 
 finally convinced Gen. Newton, that the only way to proceed was to sink a shaft from the shore, and 
 to blow up the roof and its supporting columns by one grand explosion, and afterwards to remove 
 the debris by grappling, or as might be otherwise determined. This plan was adopted with com- 
 plete success, and the final result depends only upon the action of Congress in making the requisite 
 appropriations. 
 
 Nitro-glycerine has been largely used in removing isolated rocks ; but as a description of the 
 various processes used in this great undertaking would absorb much more space than we have at 
 command, we are obliged to content ourselves with giving a brief and incomplete sketch of this 
 interesting work. 
 
 THE YOSEMITE VALLEY. 
 
 W ORDS fail utterly to give any idea of this extraordinary valley. To paint its wonderful forma- 
 tion would tax the imagery of a Voltaire. In its wildest and most fanciful explorations into the 
 realms of dreamland that fantastic imagination fell utterly below the conception of the physical marvels 
 that here abound. In one of his Romans Voltaire did, indeed, foreshadow the existence of a canon 
 on a scale then unknown to mankind. His hero, being, by an adverse combination of circumstances, 
 encompassed by danger on every side, and not knowing whither to sojourn, embarked in a canoe 
 and left his course to the guidance of the broad river’s current. The river-banks, arid in one 
 place and in another covered with flowers, by-and-by closed toward each other, and rose perpen- 
 dicularly toward Heaven, so that it was dark as night on the surface of the water. Still carried on- 
 ward by the current, which now raged and roared against the rocks and swept by them with awful 
 swiftness, he was finally, after passing through inconceivable perils, wrecked in El Dorado, — the 
 phantom kingdom of the gold-loving Spaniards. Here his description panders to the avarice of 
 civilized man, and fails utterly to cope with, or to give even a glimpse of, Nature’s sublime crea- 
 tions. Imagination could not conceive of such stupendous mountains of solid stone as those which 
 rise perpendicularly from the Valley of the Yosemite to the height of five thousand feet — of a cataract 
 having a clear fall of sixteen hundred, and a total fall of over two thousand six hundred feet — or 
 of a magical lake which reproduces the surrounding panorama on its bosom with such distinctness 
 that the reflection can be copied by an art requiring such sharpness of outline as photography. 
 
 The gorge in the Sierra Nevadas, known as the Valley of the Yosemite, is about fifty miles 
 from the town of Coulterville, Mariposa county, California. It is from eight to ten miles long, about 
 two miles wide, and is enclosed by walls of solid granite, varying in precipitous height from two 
 to five thousand feet. They are not uniform in appearance, in some places being rounded or 
 dome-like at the top, while in others they run up into sharp peaks, or assume fantastic forms like the 
 ruins of gigantic castles. At the eastern end, the valley terminates in three canons, through each 
 of which passes a branch of the Merced river (a stream that rises near by and runs through the 
 valley). On account of the great depression of the valley, the streams from the surrounding moun- 
 tains find their way into it, and form marvelous cataracts as they dash down its perpendicular sides. 
 In the spring, when the snow on the mountain sides melts, these streams are almost innumerable ; 
 and even during the dry season there is an abundant supply of water in the valley, keeping its vege- 
 tation fresh and green, in marked contrast with the barrenness of the surrounding country. 
 
 It is singular, remembering for what a length of time California has been occupied by the 
 Spaniards, that the existence of this valley should have remained so long unknown. It was discov- 
 ered in 1851 by an expedition organized by the miners to punish a party of depredatory Indians, who 
 used the valley as a place of safe retreat. Unhappily for them, the pursuit being conducted with 
 
66 
 
 THE YOSEMITE VALLEY. 
 
 energy and boldness, their trail showed the way into their fastness, and, a battle ensuing, they were 
 nearly exterminated. But it was not until 1856, that travel commenced to flow hitherward. Not- 
 withstanding the fact that the State of California, to which the Valley belongs, refuses to grant a 
 lease for a longer term than ten years, a number of hotels, capable of containing from three hundred 
 to three hundred and fifty guests, have sprung up. Mr. Nordhoff in his recent work on this subject 
 strongly advocates the grant of the Valley to a corporation, to be organized with a large capital, for 
 a term of years. In this manner the much-to-be-desired improvements could be effected, and all 
 acts of vandalism prevented. Already bridges have been erected across the Merced River, and 
 exorbitant tolls are exacted. As the tide of travel in the direction of this wonderful and unique 
 locality increases, so will the vexations, restraints, and annoying charges, which are so universal at 
 all places of great resort, be multiplied. 
 
 To give even a brief account of the various interesting sights, would be manifestly impossible in 
 an article of this description. We therefore subjoin a table of the principal physical phenomena. For 
 purposes of comparison let the reader remember that the Palisades of the Hudson River are but 
 six hundred feet in height, and that the Falls of Niagara have a descent of only one hundred and 
 sixty-three feet. 
 
 MOUNTAINS. 
 
 Indian Name. 
 
 Tu-tock-a-mu-la 
 
 Poo-see-nah Chuk-ka 
 
 Pom-pom-pasus. . . 
 Hep-se-tuck-a-nah 
 
 Loya 
 
 Loya 
 
 Ummo 
 
 Patillima 
 
 To-coy-ae 
 
 Hunto 
 
 Tissa-ack 
 Way an. . . 
 
 Signification. 
 Great Chief of the Valley. . 
 .Large Acorn Cache 
 
 Mountains Playing Leap-Frog 
 
 Gone in 
 
 Signal Station 
 
 Signal Station 
 
 Lost Arrow 
 
 ■ Shade to Indian Baby Basket 
 The Watching Eye 
 
 • Goddess of the Valley 
 
 , Pine Mountain 
 
 Cloud’s Rest 
 
 ■ Cap of Liberty 
 
 Mount Star King 
 
 American Name. 
 El Capitan 
 
 ■ Cathedral Rocks 
 
 The Cathedral Spires. 
 
 ■ Three Brothers 
 
 Union Rocks 
 
 ■ Sentinel Rock 
 
 Sentinel Dome 
 
 .Glacier Rock 
 
 . Royal Arches 
 
 .Washington Column 
 
 .North Dome 
 
 .South Dome 
 
 .Mount Watkins 
 
 Height 
 3,300 feet 
 . 2,660 feet 
 .1,800 feet 
 .3,830 feet 
 3,500 feet 
 . 3,043 feet 
 .4,500 feet 
 .3,000 feet 
 3.200 feet 
 , 1,800 feet 
 . 1,875 f eet 
 3,56s feet 
 .4,737 feet 
 ,3,900 feet 
 .6,034 f eet 
 .4,000 feet 
 . 5,600 feet 
 
 Po-ho-no. , 
 Yo-Semite 
 
 Py-wy-ack 
 Yo-wy-ye. , 
 Illilouette. 
 Yo-coy-se. . 
 Loya 
 
 WATERFALLS. 
 
 Cataract. . . 
 
 Night Wind Bridal Veil 
 
 .Large Grizzly Bear Yosemite.. 
 
 First Fall 
 
 Second Fall 
 
 Third Fall 
 
 Sparkling Water Vernal 
 
 Nevada 
 
 The Beautiful South Fork 
 
 Shade to Indian Baby Basket Royal Arch Falls 
 
 Sentinel Falls. . . 
 
 900 feet 
 630 feet 
 2,634 feet 
 , i.6co feet 
 , 600 feet 
 434 feet 
 350 feet 
 700 feet 
 600 feet 
 
 1.000 feet 
 
 3.000 feet 
 
 One of the principal objects of interest, and one of the loveliest waterfalls i^the world, is Bridal 
 Veil Fall, formed by a stream which enters the Valley from the south. It falls from a height of 630 
 feet in a clear symmetrical arch of indescribable beauty ; but, in summer, the creek of which it is a 
 part is no larger than a common mill-stream. The foot of the waterfall is very difficult of access, 
 owing to the almost impenetrable jungle which surrounds it. To reach it, it is necessary to scale 
 huge masses of granite piled up in irregular order. During a certain part of the dry season, how- 
 ever, these difficulties may be avoided, the water being then so low that visitors can walk up the 
 bed of the stream. 
 
 About a mile above the Bridal Veil Fall is the principal section of the northern wall called El 
 Capitan. This stupendous mass of granite rises from the valley to a height ot 3,300 ieet. Although 
 the precipices on each side are ragged and dingy, El Capitan is as bright and smooth as though it 
 had been recently polished, It is nearly two miles broad. In a niche halt way up its side 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE YOSEMITE. 
 
68 
 
 THE YOSEMITE VALLEY. 
 
 there grows a solitary pine-tree. Although there are no indications of any soil near it, nor any 
 visible means by which soil could have been deposited in such a place, the tree seems hardy and 
 thriving. A short distance up the Valley are the Cathedral Rocks. These consist of two columns 
 or spires about 2,660 feet high, which have a gable-shaped rock between them. The cluster has 
 a strong resemblance to the fa9ade of a cathedral, and from this fact is their name derived. We 
 next come to the Sentinel, a remarkable projection in the southern wall, nearly perpendicular, and 
 terminating in sharp peaks far above the general line of the wall, and 4,500 feet above the bed of the 
 valley. Nearly opposite are three peaks known as the Three Brothers, leaning over towards the 
 Valley. The highest of the group is 3,830 feet above the river. 
 
 On the northern side of the Valley, and at a little distance from the Three Brothers, is the great 
 Yosemite Fall, formed by a stream of the same name. The river reaches the valley in three leaps, 
 the wall at this point forming three courses, and leaving a shelf or plateau at the bottom of each to 
 receive the falling water. The upper course is the highest, affording the stream an unobstructed 
 fall of 1,600 feet. It then rushes along until it takes a second leap of 234 feet, and after that another 
 of 400 feet. The height from the top of the fall to the level of the valley is 2,634 feet. The upper 
 fall is considered the highest in the world. Unlike the other cataracts in the valley the hot season 
 does not so diminish the volume of the Yosemite Fall but that at all times of the year a well-defined 
 sheet of water pours over it to the bottom. When the Valley was first explored, it was asserted that 
 a greater cataract than Niagara had been discovered. The two are so widely different in character, 
 however, that no comparison can be made between them. The falls of the Yosemite owe their 
 attraction to the immense height from which the waters descend, and the grand scenery which sur- 
 rounds them ; while Niagara is famous for its immense volume. We quote from the description of 
 a distinguished European writer the following comparison between the scenery here afforded, and 
 some of the most sublime parts of Switzerland: “When we come to the ‘Yosemite Falls’ proper, 
 we behold an object which has no parallel anywhere in the Alps. The upper part is the highest 
 waterfall in the world, as yet discovered, being sixteen hundred feet in height. It reminds me of 
 nothing in the Alps but the avalanches seen falling at intervals down the precipices of the Jungfrau. 
 It is, indeed, a perpetual avalanche of water comminuted as finely as snow, and spreading, as it 
 descends, into a transparent veil, like the train of the great comet of 1S58. As you look at it from 
 the valley beneath, a thousand feet below, it is not unlike a snowy comet, perpetually climbing, not 
 the heavens, but the glorious cliffs which tower up three thousand feet into the zenith above, not 
 unlike a firmament of rock.” 
 
 Below the Falls are two of the most striking views in the whole valley, formed by two huge 
 mountains of bare granite, called the North and South Domes. In an easterly direction from them, 
 and towards the base of the Northern wall there is a valley which branches off from the main one, 
 and is drained by the North Fork of the Merced. A short walk through it brings the tourist to 
 Mirror Lake, a sheet of water about a mile in circumference, and remarkably transparent. The 
 surrounding trees and rocks are reflected in its bosom with such faithfulness that the shadows are 
 almost as distinct and clearly defined as the objects themselves. Standing on its shore, and looking 
 to the south, a full view of the South Dome may be obtained. It is a mountain of rock that rivals 
 I'll Capitan in grandeur. From a base covered with debris of soil and rock, it rises in the air 4,737 
 feet. It is much higher than the Captain, and although it does not present such a large area of 
 perpendicular surface, its sides are almost perfectly straight nearly half the distance down from the 
 summit. The mountain is sometimes called the Semi-Dome, a large portion of the side next to the 
 Valley appearing to have been broken away at some remote period. Efforts have been made to 
 scale it, but they have been futile, and it is to-day generally believed that it is impossible to do so. 
 
 Turning back from the Lake, and entering the canon through which the main branch of the 
 Merced river flows, the same variety of scenery presents itself. Vast masses of rock loom up from 
 the banks of the river on both sides, and huge boulders are scattered around. About two miles up 
 the valley there rises a perpendicular wall which prevents any further progress. Over its top the 
 river falls a distance of nearly 400 feet, forming the Vernal Fall, which by many is considered the 
 most beautiful cataract in the Valley, although some tourists claim that distinction for the Bridal 
 Veil. Against the wall over which the cataract descends, there are placed several flights of dilapi- 
 dated ladder-stairs, up which the visitor may ascend to the top, if he be sufficiently venturesome. 
 On the plateau above, and close to the brink of the precipice, there is a natural parapet of rock, 
 breast-high, over which one can lean with perfect safety, and trace the course of the foaming water. 
 
THE YOSEMITE FALLS 
 
;o 
 
 THE YOSEMITE VALLEY. 
 
 until it strikes the rocks below. In the 
 afternoon, when the sun shines, there 
 may be seen at this fall that beautiful 
 spectacle — a circular rainbow. It is 
 like the simple rainbow, having the 
 same colors, only that it is a complete 
 circle, which dissolves and constantly 
 forms and reforms far below. 
 
 A mile further up the Merced Valley 
 we come to Nevada Fall. This is, in 
 one sense, the largest in the valley, 
 since it presents the greatest body of 
 water falling the greatest distance. It 
 is 700 feet high, and during those sea- 
 sons of the year, when the river is 
 swollen and deep, it shoots clear of the 
 rock, and so descends to the bottom ; 
 but during the dry season it strikes the 
 rock a short distance below the top, and 
 spreads out into a broad sheet of foam. 
 
 The following comparison is made 
 by a gentleman to whom we have before 
 made reference : 
 
 “To return again to the comparison 
 of the sister valleys — the Yosemite and 
 the Lauterbrunnen. The third peculiar 
 feature of the Swiss valley is the parallel 
 precipices on each side, rising perpen- 
 dicularly from one thousand to fifteen hundred feet. They are, indeed, sublime, and where the 
 
 cliff projects, in a rounded form, like the 
 bastions of some huge castle, you might 
 imagine that you beheld one of the 
 strongholds of the fabled Titans of old. 
 But what are they, compared with such 
 a giant as El Capitan, lifting up his 
 square, granite forehead, three thousand 
 three hundred feet above the grassy 
 plain at his feet, a rounded, curving cliff, 
 as smooth, as symmetrical to the eye, 
 and absolutely as vertical, for the upper 
 fifteen hundred feet, as any Corinthian 
 pillar on earth ! What shall we say, 
 when, standing in the middle of a valley 
 more than a mile wide, you know that 
 if these granite walls should fall toward 
 each other, they would smite their fore- 
 heads together hundreds of feet above 
 the valley ! What magnificent domes 
 are those, scarcely a mile apart — the one 
 three thousand eight hundred feet, and 
 the other four thousand five hundred 
 and ninety-three feet in height ! When 
 you stand in the valley of Lauterbrun- 
 nen, and look at the snowy summit of 
 Jungfrau, or ‘Virgin,’ you behold an 
 object eleven thousand feet above you ; 
 
 El Capitan from Merced River. 
 
THE YOSEMITE VALLEY. 
 
 7i 
 
 but your map will tell you that it is five miles distant, and, by a little calculation, you will find 
 that you raise your eyes at an angle of only twenty-three degrees. So at Chamounix, you look up 
 at the snowy dome of Mont 
 Blanc, rising twelve thousand 
 three hundred and thirty feet 
 above you ; but you must re- 
 member that it is six and one- 
 half miles distant from you, 
 and the angle at which you 
 view it is only twenty degrees, 
 while the very sharpest angle 
 at which you can view it is 
 twenty-five degrees. But at 
 Yosemite you need but climb 
 a few rods up the rocks at the 
 base of that granite wall, and, 
 leaning up against it, you may 
 look up — if your nerves are 
 steady enough to withstand 
 the impression that the cliffs 
 are falling over upon you — 
 and see the summits above 
 you, at an angle of nearly 
 ninety degrees ; in other 
 words, you will behold a moun- 
 tain top three thousand feet 
 above you in the zenith." 
 
 The Yosemite Valley is 
 about a mile wide. The soil 
 is diversified ; in some places 
 it is rich, while in others light 
 and stony. Two or three at- 
 tempts at farming have proven 
 that grain and potatoes will 
 grow well there. Timber is 
 abundant, and consists of pine, 
 cedar, fir, and oak, but no- 
 where is the forest dense. In 
 tracts that are somewhat 
 marshy, the grass grows long 
 and green, and cattle and 
 horses are occasionally driven 
 there to pasture from the sur- 
 rounding country. 
 
 The descent into the Val- 
 ley is about three miles in 
 length, and is very steep, al- 
 though in no part impracti- 
 cable to the California horse. 
 
 But whatever the difficulties 
 which attend the visit, the 
 tourist will find the grandeur 
 of the scenery full compensa- 
 tion for all his pains. 
 
 Big Tree. 
 
DUCK 
 
SARATOGA SPRINGS AND SARATOGA LAKE. 
 
 73 
 
 SARATOGA SPRINGS AND SARATOGA LAKE. 
 
 T HERE is not a word in our language more suggestive of gayety, of frivolity, of a total banish- 
 ment of care, than Saratoga. The virtues of its Springs have given it a long-established pre- 
 eminence even among famous watering-places. Not only is it a rendezvous for those butterflies of 
 fashion whose unremitting devotion to the sacred duties of society during the long winter season has 
 told upon their delicate frames, but chiefs of bureaus from Washington, merchant princes from New 
 York, “ speculative ” statesmen from the South, invalids from Europe vainly seeking that health so 
 little valued until lost, English tourists bent on “ doing ” America, literary men representing the 
 journals of the great centres on the alert for the latest rumor or the last scandal, governors of 
 States looking (according to a recent foreign critic*) not at all like governors, fortunate miners 
 from the Territories, lovers hoping that the freedom of the place will give them that opportunity 
 which the routine of city life does not afford — all these, from all parts of this continent and every 
 country in Europe, here meet on one common ground ; with aims and aspirations widely differing, 
 perhaps, but all nominally bent on seeking that dim unreality, pleasure — so much sought after, but 
 so rarely found. 
 
 Saratoga owes its celebrity to the medicinal qualities of its waters. This spot is said to have 
 been visited by invalids as early as 1773 ; but Congress Spring, whose waters are now in the great- 
 est request, was not discovered until 1792, though it had for a long time been known to, and esteemed 
 by, the Indians, who, many years before the Revolutionary War, frequented the High Rock Spring. 
 The springs number about twenty-three or four, and are spread over a tract twelve miles across. 
 After the Congress Waters, which are bottled and shipped to all parts of the world, the springs most 
 in favor and use at Saratoga are the Empire, the Hathorn, the Columbian, the High Rock, the Red, 
 the Pavilion, and Putnam’s. The Excelsior, Minnehaha, Star and Saratoga Springs are also popular. 
 The Empire Spring, the most northerly one in the village, has grown greatly in repute of late years. 
 The Hathorn Spring, which is situated not far from the Empire, is also esteemed for the curious 
 character of the rock from which it issues, and whence it derives its name. This singular rock has 
 been formed by the accumulated deposits of the mineral substances (magnesia, lime, and iron) held 
 in solution by the carbonic acid gas of the springs. The circumference of the rock at the surface of 
 the ground is twenty-four feet and four inches, its height three feet, with an aperture nearly one foot 
 in diameter. The Seltzer Spring is newly opened. All of these waters have been found very bene- 
 ficial in cases of affection of the liver and chronic diseases of the bowels. 
 
 The scenery surrounding the village possesses few, if any extraordinary attractions, excepting 
 Saratoga Lake, of whose beauties we have endeavored to give a faithful word and crayon picture in 
 these pages. The village itself consists chiefly of a single street lined with spacious hotels, board- 
 ing-houses, and the private residences of the stationary population. The first hut was erected in 
 1 773, by Dereck Scowton, and the first frame-house in 1784, by General Schuyler. The streets are 
 gratefully shaded by fine trees, and most of the hotels have spacious grounds tastefully laid out. 
 The Alpha and Omega of the daily Saratoga programme are to drink, to eat, and to criticise your 
 neighbors. A recent writer thus describes it : “ After water drinking and breakfasting, Madame 
 Saratoga sits in silence on the piazza until it becomes too hot, when she retires to dress for dinner. 
 After dinner she drives out or takes forty winks. Then she redresses and sits silently on the same 
 piazza listening to music. About dusk all the leading hotels wake to life. The Grand Union goes 
 to the Congress, the Congress goes to the United States, the United States to the Grand Union, 
 and so on, till the full round is made, and till the fair inmates of every one of the hotels have 
 reviewed the dresses of all their rivals in all the others. Sometimes Saratoga is supposed to dance 
 in the evening, but she never does in reality. The hall rooms are thrown open and illuminated, the 
 orchestras are playing the Madame Angot quadrille and the Blue Danube waltz, but no one dances, 
 except a few boarding-house inmates who smuggle themselves into the hotels.” 
 
 Saratoga Lake is nine miles long, and three miles broad, and is about three miles from Saratoga 
 Springs, and about eight miles west of the Hudson River, which receives its outlet waters under 
 
 * Probably this fastidious gentleman is a descendant of that well-to-do countryman who went to London with no other 
 object than to see the king, George III., and who, on returning to his native village, astonished his neighbors by declaring 
 that the king -was only a man. 
 
74 
 
 SARATOGA SPRINGS AND SARATOGA LAKE. 
 
 the name of Fish Creek. The 
 same stream, before its en- 
 trance into the lake, is called 
 by the sesquipedalian title of 
 Rayaderosseras River. With 
 its pretty maiden name it 
 loses its beauty, and flows 
 forth from its union with the 
 lake, in a dull and murky 
 stream, and so drops slug- 
 gishly into the Hudson. The 
 dimensions of Saratoga Lake 
 dwindle into insignificance 
 when viewed by the side of 
 the great lakes of New York ; 
 but its natural beauties are so 
 many and varied that every 
 year thousands of pleasure- 
 seekers flock to its shores and glide over its 
 tranquil surface in search of game and fish, 
 which abound in great plenty and variety. 
 In the fall of the year duck-shooting is one 
 of the favorite pastimes of the sportsman, 
 and lovers of the piscatory art may be seen 
 trolling for pickerel, or still-fishing for perch, 
 bass, and other kinds of fish, and always with 
 success. It is in the autumn that the beau- 
 ties of Saratoga Lake can be best appre- 
 ciated ; during those “ melancholy days the 
 saddest of the year ” the fairy-like tints of 
 the rich and mellowed foliage on its picturesquely indented banks give it a peculiar, if somewhat 
 sombre, charm. Until recently but slight efforts have been made to improve the natural beauties 
 of the lake. The farms in the vicinity have been in the possession of the families who now 
 own them ever since the first settlement of the country. A more delightful spot for the erection of 
 country residences could not well be found. A stroll among its shores presents to view hills on 
 which charming villas might cluster, each with its own spacious ground and splendid water view ; 
 hollows half shadow, half sunshine, in which a group of rustic cottages might be gathered. Mr. Frank 
 Leslie, the well-known publisher, owns an estate on the borders of the lake, on which he has 
 
 A Feeder to the Lake. 
 
 Perch-Fishing on the Lake. 
 
FAIRMOUNT PARK , PHILADELPHIA. 75 
 
 erected a fine residence, and there are rumors that other wealthy New Yorkers will soon follow his 
 example. The indications are that Saratoga Lake will be better known in the future than the past. 
 
 An old Indian superstition connected with this lake, undoubtedly had its origin in its unusual 
 loneliness and tranquillity. The Mohawks rested in the belief that its stillness was sacred to the 
 Great Spirit, and that, if a human voice uttered a sound upon its waters, the canoe of the unhappy 
 offender would sink to rise no more. An anecdote is related of an Englishwoman, in the early days 
 of the first settlers, who, desiring to cross this lake with a party of Indians, was warned by them 
 before setting out, of the awfulness of the spell. The day was still and dreamy, and the light canoe 
 passed over the glossy water as silently as a feather. When in about the middle of the lake, the 
 woman, wishing to shatter the blind superstition of the red-skins, uttered a loud cry. Instantly the 
 
 Fishing from a Sail-boat. 
 
 countenances of the Indians became clouded, and after a moment’s pause, and in gloomy silence, 
 they drove the light craft like a shadow over the smooth surface. After reaching the shore in safety, 
 and landing the canoe, the woman rallied the Mohawk on his credulity. “ The Great Spirit is 
 merciful, replied the chief scornfully ; “ He knows that a white woman cannot hold her tongue.” 
 
 FAIRMOUNT PARK, PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 It is said that Fairmount Park owes its origin to the necessity of providing the city with 
 pure water in early times. The fairmount Water Works were commenced in 1819 ; the grounds 
 adjacent to them were beautified, and their area was from time to time enlarged until they now 
 occupy two thousand nine hundred and ninety-one acres. 
 
 Fairmount Park is widely celebrated, not only for its wide extent as a public park, but owing 
 to its having been the spot selected as the site of the great Exhibition, which was held there in 
 1876. Its natural beauty, moreover, is said to be unrivalled. Within its widespread area are 
 rocky precipices and grassy plains ; wooded hills and secluded dales ; meandering rivulets and 
 murmuring waterfalls ; extended prospects over city and country ; the placid Schuylkill and the 
 
FAIR MOUNT PARK , PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 76 
 
 picturesque legend-haunted Wissahiclcon. The continuous carriage drive, mostly along the 
 Schuylkill and Wissahickon, extends a distance of over twelve miles, and of this five miles is 
 through the beautiful valley of the last-named stream. This continuous drive, in a circuit almost 
 
 a day’s journey, carries one across the Schuylkill, through tunnels cut in the solid rock ; by 
 mansions made memorable as the homes of such men as the Penns and others who took conspic- 
 uous part in our early history. 
 
THE REGION OF THE JUNIATA. 
 
 77 
 
 THE REGION OF THE JUNIATA. 
 
 T HROUGH the wildest region of 
 Pennsylvania flows as lovely a 
 river as there is in the country. Rising in 
 the Alleghany mountains, the Juniata 
 winds its devious way eastward through a 
 hundred and fifty miles of mountain scen- 
 ery to the Susquehanna, into which it 
 empties. Thirty years ago travelers cros- 
 sing the mountains to the Ohio River were 
 accustomed to make the journey driving 
 slowly in huge wagons along the banks of 
 this river ; to-day the same route is still 
 taken, but it is on the Pennsylvania rail- 
 road ; and a canal and telegraph line 
 bear the railway track company. With 
 this exception in the manner of trans- 
 portation, the spirit of progress has made 
 no material change in the Juniata valley. 
 The inhabitants are mainly stolid old 
 Pennsylvania farmers, who entertain con- 
 tempt for anything new, and to this day 
 prefer the good old-fashioned way of travel- 
 ing to the “ whizz and spit railroads.” 
 For the most part of German descent, they 
 lead a life remarkable for its industry, sim- 
 plicity, and thrift, and most of them are 
 wealthy. 
 
 At its junction with the Susquehanna, 
 the banks of the Juniata command beautiful prospects, whichever way the eye turns. Northward 
 can be traced the placid course of the former river, with its green islands and long low sand-bars. 
 Southward, fertile pastures and staid old farm-houses rise in view, while here and there groups of 
 lazy cattle are feeding on the green grass ; and westward its own blue waters flow with their 
 treasures of surrounding scenery. 
 
 Newport is a little town ten miles up the river. In its neighborhood are fine mountain views and 
 pretty wooded walks along the banks of the canal, and numerous romantic brooks and charming 
 forest nooks and glens. In the vicinity of Millerstown, Mifflintown, and Lewistown — thriving villages 
 situated a little farther up the river — numerous picturesque rivulets and some more pretentious 
 streams come flowing into the valleys. In most of them trout may be captured in abundance, and 
 in the forests an occasional deer may be seen. At Lewistown there is a stream, that is even excep- 
 tionably remarkable for the beauty of its surroundings. The path along its banks is shaded by 
 overhanging trees, and leads past little cascades and several charming old mills and cottages, and oc- 
 casionally an old log-dwelling, with the remains of a capacious fire-place, calling to memory the hardy 
 pioneers who first entered the wilderness of Pennsylvania in dangerous times long ago. And if the 
 tourist be of a romantic nature, he may gather from the old inhabitants rich pages of Indian history 
 and legendary lore. 
 
 Westward from Lewistown is the village of Huntingdon, near the upper waters of the river. 
 Here the character of the country begins to undergo a change. The hills wear a more imposing 
 look, and encroach more and more upon the area of the valley. At Petersburg, the railway which 
 for most of the distance keeps very close to the bank of the river, branches off towards a tributary 
 called the Little Juniata. The tourist may take any of the three routes — the river, the canal, or the 
 railway — and in any event may be assured of sufficient variety and entertainment, though the two 
 former give the best opportunities for studying the character of the country. 
 
78 
 
 THE REGION OF THE JUNIATA. 
 
 Immediately east of the town of Lewistown the Pennsylvania Railroad passes through 
 Lewistown Narrows. The mountains rise abruptly from the river to the height in many places of 
 more than a thousand feet, and their sides are covered generally with a dense forest growth, 
 
 Lewistown Narrows on the Juniata. 
 
 riving an appearance of gloom to the gorge. The water flows peacefully thiough the channel it 
 was curved, reflecting in its bosom the shadows of the carts it conquered in forming a passage. 
 
SCENE ON 
 
 A 
 
 CREEK EMPTYING 
 
 INTO THE 
 
 LITTLE JUNIATA 
 
8o 
 
 THE REGION OF THE JUNIATA 
 
 Going up the river one passes Alexandria, which has the honor of being the social centre of the 
 valley. Beyond Alexandria is a little place called Water Street. Here the canal joins the river, 
 forming what the boatmen call slackwater. This is one of the most picturesque spots in the valley. 
 The hills are of commanding height, and the river road for a few miles lies in their shadow. The 
 mountain sides are in many places marked by the debris of occasional land slides — a feature which 
 is characteristic of much of the Juniata scenery. 
 
 From Water Street we go on twenty or thirty miles to Hollidaysburg, at the base of the Allegha- 
 nies. Here boats and cars were once transported over the mountains through Blair’s Summit Gap 
 by a portage railroad — a work of some magnitude whose construction required much enterprise and 
 skilful engineering. It is forty miles long, and ascends to an elevation of two thousand five hundred 
 and seventy feet. There are ten inclined planes on the route, varying in height from 41 to 5J de- 
 grees, to which the cars were raised by stationary steam-engines ; a tunnel eight hundred and seventy 
 feet long, through the Staple Bend Mountain of the Conemaugh ; and four viaducts — one of which, 
 over the Horse-shoe Bend, is a semicircular arch of eighty feet span. The cost of this road was 
 over two million dollars before the war and the days of paper currency. The necessity for much of 
 this apparatus has since been obviated by the construction of a tunnel. 
 
 At this point the journey westward terminates, and returning to Water Street, a pleasant walk 
 of three miles will take one across the country to the railway at Spruce Creek. Although a new 
 town, this is the most prosperous in the Juniata region. A morning’s ramble into the neighboring 
 country will disclose as fresh and varied a scenery as anybody can desire. In one place is a broad, 
 dew-sprinkled lawn, in another a dense thicket, and again a little waterfall, while the sterner fea- 
 tures of the landscape remind one of the Catskills. 
 
 The central or mountain region of Pennsylvania is nearly two hundred miles in length. On one 
 side of this section of country are the meadow lands of the Atlantic slope, and on the other is the 
 fertile basin of the Ohio. The rich soil of the two latter makes them the grain-producing sections 
 of the State, while the central and mountainous territory furnishes vast stores of anthracite coal and 
 ores of various kinds. It is through the latter region that the Juniata flows. Its surface is marked 
 also by numerous parallel ridges of mountains of the Appalachian chain — among which, nearest to 
 the Eastern section, are the South Mountain, Blue Ridge, and the Kittatinny. Through the lattei 
 the Delaware passes at the celebrated Water Gap, and the Lehigh river at Wind Gap. These 
 
 The Little Juniata — Tyrone in the Distance. 
 
NIAGARA RALLS: PAST AND FUTURE. 
 
 81 
 
 mountain ranges have an average height of a little over a thousand feet, and although they have no 
 element of grandeur, they contain many gems of water and valley scenery. It is in the forty or fifty 
 miles of hill and valley which lie between the Kittatinny and the Susquehanna that the great Penn- 
 sylvanian coal-beds lie. 
 
 ■ 
 
 NIAGARA FALLS: PAST AND FUTURE. 
 
 A PHILOSOPHICAL DISQUISITION BY PROFESSOR TYNDALL. 
 
 W E have now to consider the genesis and proximate destiny of the Falls of Niagara. We may 
 open our way to this subject by a few preliminary remarks upon erosion. Time and intensity 
 are the main factors of geologic change, and they are in a certain sense convertible. A feeble force 
 acting through long periods, and an intense force acting through short ones, may produce approxi- 
 mately the same results. To Dr. Hooker I have been indebted for some samples of stones, the first 
 examples of which were picked up by Mr. Hackworth on the shores of Lyell’s Bay, near Wellington, 
 in New Zealand. They have been described by Mr. Travers in the Transactions of the New Zea- 
 land Institute. Unacquainted with their origin, you would certainly ascribe their forms to human 
 workmanship. They resemble flint knives and spear-heads, being apparently chiseled off into faces 
 with as much attention to symmetry as if a tool guided by human intelligence had passed over 
 them. But no human instrument has been brought to bear upon these stones. They have been 
 wrought into their present shape by the wind-blown sand of Lyell’s Bay. Two winds are dominant 
 here, and they in succession urged the sand against opposite sides of the stone ; every little particle 
 of sand chipped away its infinitesimal bit of stone, and in the end sculptured these singular 
 forms.* 
 
 The Sphinx of Egypt is nearly covered up by the sand of the desert. The neck of the Sphinx is 
 partly cut across, not, as I am assured by Mr. Huxley, by ordinary weathering, but by the eroding 
 action of the fine sand blown against it. In these cases nature furnishes us with hints which may 
 be taken advantage of in art ; and this action of sand has been recently turned to extraordinary 
 account in the United States. When in Boston, I was taken by Mr. Josiah Ouincy to see the action 
 of the sand-blast. A kind of hopper containing fine silicious sand was connected with a reservoir 
 of compressed air, the pressure being variable at pleasure. The hopper ended in a long slit, from 
 which the sand was blown. A plate of glass was placed beneath this slit, and caused to pass slowly 
 under it ; it came out perfectly depolished, with a bright opalescent glimmer, such as could only be 
 produced by the most careful grinding. Every little particle of sand urged against the glass, having 
 all its energy concentrated on the point of impact, formed there a little pit, the depolished surface 
 consisting of innumerable hollows of this description. But this was not all. By protecting certain 
 portions of the surface and exposing others, figures and tracery of any required form could be etched 
 upon the glass. The figures of open iron-work could be thus copied ; while wire-gauze placed over 
 the glass produced a reticulated pattern. But it required no such resisting substance as iron to 
 shelter the glass. The patterns of the finest lace could be thus reproduced ; the delicate filaments 
 of the lace itself offering a sufficient protection. 
 
 All these effects have been obtained with a simple model of the sand-blast devised for me by my 
 assistant. A fraction of a minute suffices to etch upon glass a rich and beautiful lace pattern. Any 
 yielding substance may be employed to protect the glass. By immediately diffusing the shock of 
 
 * “ The stones, which have a strong resemblance to works of human art, occur in great abundance, and of various 
 sizes, from half an inch to several inches in length. A large number were exhibited showing the various forms, which are 
 those of wedges, knives, arrow-heads, &c., and all with sharp cutting edges. 
 
 “ Mr. Travers explained that, notwithstanding their artificial appearance, these stones were formed by the cutting action 
 of the wind-driven sand as it passed to and fro over an exposed boulder bank. He gave a minute account of the manner 
 in which the varieties of form are produced, and referred to the effect which the erosive action thus indicated would have on 
 railway and other works executed on sandy tracts. 
 
 “ Dr. Hector stated that although, as a group, the specimens on the table could not well be mistaken for artificial pro 
 ductions, still the forms are so peculiar, and the edges, in a few of them, so perfect, that if they were discovered associated 
 with human works, there is no doubt that they would have been referred to the so-called ‘ stone-period.’ ” — Extracted prom, 
 the Minutes of the Wellington Philosophical Society , Feb. 9, 1869. 
 
NIAGARA RALLS: PAST AND FUTURE. 
 
 the particle, such substances practically destroy the local erosive power. The hand can bear without 
 inconvenience a sand-shower which would pulverize glass. Etchings executed on glass with suitable 
 kinds of ink are accurately worked out by the sand-blast. In fact, within certain limits, the harder 
 the surface, the greater is the concentration of the shock, and the more effectual is the erosion. It 
 is not necessary that the sand should be the harder substance of the two ; corundum, for example, 
 is much harder than quartz ; still, quartz-sand can not only depolish, but actually blow a hole through 
 a plate of corundum. Nay, glass may be depolished by the impact of fine shot ; the grains in this 
 case bruising the glass before they have time to flatten and turn their energy into heat. 
 
 And here, in passing, we may tie together one or two apparently unrelated facts. Supposing you 
 turn on, at the lower part of a house, a cock which is fed by a pipe from a cistern at the top of the 
 house, a column of water, from the cistern downwards, is set in motion. By turning off the cock, 
 this motion is stopped ; and when the turning off is very sudden, the pipe, if not strong, may be 
 burst by the internal impact of the water. By distributing the turning of the cock over half a second 
 of time, the shock and danger of rupture may be entirely avoided. We have here an example of 
 the concentration of energy in time. The sand-blast illustrates the concentration of energy in space. 
 The action of flint and steel is an illustration of the same principle. The heat required to generate 
 the spark is intense, and the mechanical action being moderate, must, to produce fire, be in the 
 highest degree concentrated. This concentration is secured by the collision of hard substances. 
 Calc-spar will not supply the place of flint, nor lead the place of steel in the production of fire by 
 collision. With the softer substances, the total heat produced may be greater than with the hard 
 ones ; but to produce the spark, the heat must be intensely localized. 
 
 But we can go far beyond the mere depolishing of glass ; indeed, I have already said that quartz 
 sand can wear a hole through corundum. This leads me to express my acknowledgments to Gen. 
 Tilghman, who is the inventor of the sand-blast. To his spontaneous kindness I am indebted for 
 some beautiful illustrations of his process. In one thick plate of glass a figure has been worked out 
 to a depth of three-eighths of an inch. A second plate seven-eighths of an inch thick is entirely 
 perforated. Through a circular plate of marble, nearly half an inch thick, open work of the most 
 intricate and elaborate description has been executed. It would probably take many days to per- 
 form this work by any ordinary process ; with the sand-blast it was accomplished in an hour. So 
 much for the strength of the blast ; its delicacy is illustrated by a beautiful example of line engrav- 
 ing, etched on glass by means of the blast. 
 
 This power of erosion, so strikingly displayed when sand is urged by air, renders us better able 
 to conceive its action when urged by water. The erosive power of a river is vastly augmented by 
 the solid matter carried along with it. Sand or pebbles caught in a river vortex can wear away the 
 hardest rock ; “ pot-holes ” and deep cylindrical shafts being thus produced. An extraordinary in- 
 stance of this kind of erosion is to be seen in the Val Tournanche, above the village of this name. 
 The gorge at Handeck has been thus cut out. Such waterfalls were once frequent in the valleys 
 of Switzerland ; for hardly any valley is without one or more transverse barriers of resisting ma- 
 terial, over which the river flowing through the valley once fell as a cataract. Near Pontresina in 
 the Engadin, there is such a case, the hard gneiss being now worn away to form a gorge through 
 which the river from the Morteratsch glacier rushes. The barrier of the Klrchet above Meyringen 
 is also a case in point. Behind it was a lake, derived from the glacier of the Aar, and over the bar- 
 rier the lake poured its excess of water. Plere the rock being limestone was in great part dissolved, 
 but added to this we had the action of the solid particles carried along by the water, each ot which, 
 as it struck the rock, chipped it away like the particles of the sand-blast. Thus by solution and 
 mechanical erosion the great chasm of the Fensteraar-Schlucht was formed. It is demonstrable 
 that the water which flows at the bottoms of such deep fissures once flowed at the level of what is 
 now their edges, and tumbled down the lower faces of the barriers. Almost every valley in Switzer- 
 land furnishes examples of this kind ; the untenable hypothesis of earthquakes, once so readily 
 resorted to in accounting for these gorges, being now for the most part abandoned. To produce the 
 Canons of Western America no other cause is needed than the integration of effects individually 
 infinitesimal. 
 
 And now we come to Niagara. Soon after Europeans had taken possession of the country, the 
 conviction appears to have arisen that the deep channel of the river Niagara below the falls had 
 been excavated by the cataract. In Mr. Bakewell's “ Introduction to Geology,” the prevalence ot 
 this belief has been referred to ; it is expressed thus by Prof. Joseph Ilenry in the Transactions of 
 
A NIGHT VIEW OF NIAGARA IN OLDEN TIME, 
 
84 
 
 NIAGARA FALLS: PAST AND FUTURE. 
 
 / 
 
 the Albany Institute : “ In viewing the position of the falls and the features of the country round, 
 it is impossible not to be impressed with the idea that this great natural raceway has been formed 
 by the continued action of the irresistible Niagara, and that the falls, beginning at Lewiston, have, 
 in the course of ages, worn back the rocky strata to their present site.” The same view is advocated 
 by Sir Charles Lyell, by Mr. Hall, by M. Agassiz, by Prof. Ramsay, indeed by almost all of those 
 who have inspected the place. 
 
 A connected image of the origin and progress of the cataract is easily obtained. Walking north- 
 ward from the village of Niagara Falls by the side of the river, we have to our left the deep and 
 comparatively narrow gorge through which the Niagara flows. The bounding cliffs of this gorge are 
 from 300 to 350 feet high. We reach the whirlpool, trend to the northeast, and after a little time 
 gradually resume our northward course. Finally, at about seven miles from the present Falls, we 
 come to the edge of a declivity which informs us that we have been hitherto walking on table-land. 
 Some hundreds of feet below us is a comparatively level plain, which stretches to Lake Ontario. 
 The declivity marks the end of the precipitous gorge of the Niagara. Here the river escapes from 
 its steep mural boundaries, and in a widened bed pursues its way to the lake which finally receives 
 its waters. 
 
 The fact that in historic times, even within the memory of man, the fall has sensibly receded, 
 prompts the question, how far has this recession gone ? At what point did the ledge which thus 
 continually creeps backwards begin its retrograde course ? To minds disciplined in such researches 
 the answer has been and will be, at the precipitous declivity which crossed the Niagara from Lewis- 
 ton on the American to Queenston on the Canadian side. Over this transverse barrier the united 
 affluents of all the upper lakes once poured their waters, and here the work of erosion began. The 
 dam, moreover, was demonstrably of sufficient height to cause the river above it to submerge Goat 
 Island ; and this would perfectly account for the finding by Mr. Hall, Sir Charles Lyell, and others, 
 in the sand and gravel of the island, the same fluviatile shells as are now found in the Niagara river 
 higher up. It would also account for those deposits along the sides of the river, the discovery of 
 which enabled Lyell, Hall, and Ramsay to reduce to demonstration the popular belief that the 
 Niagara once flowed through a shallow valley. 
 
 The physics of the problem of excavation, which I made clear to my mind before quitting 
 Niagara, are revealed by a close inspection of the present Horse-shoe Fall. Here we see evidently 
 that the greatest weight of water bends over the very apex of the Horse-shoe. In a passage in his 
 excellent chapter on Niagara Falls, Mr. Hall alludes to this fact. Here we have the most copious 
 and the most violent whirling of the shattered liquid ; here the most powerful eddies recoil against 
 the shale. From this portion of the fall, indeed, the spray sometimes rises without solution of con- 
 tinuity to the region of clouds, becoming gradually more attenuated, and passing finally through the 
 condition of true cloud into invisible vapor, which is sometimes reprecipitated higher up. All the 
 phenomena point distinctly to the centre of the river as the place of greatest mechanical energy, 
 and from the centre the vigor of the Fall gradually dies away towards the sides.- The horse-shoe 
 form, with the concavity facing downwards, is an obvious and necessary consequence of this action. 
 Right along the middle of the river the apex of the curve pushes its way backwards, cutting along 
 the centre a deep and comparatively narrow groove, and draining the sides as it passes them. Hence 
 the remarkable discrepancy between the widths of the Niagara above and below the Horse-shoe. 
 All along its course, from Lewiston Heights to its present position, the form of the Fall was probably 
 that of a horse-shoe ; for this is merely the expression of the greater depth, and consequently greater 
 excavating power, of the centre of the river. The gorge, moreover, varies in width as the depth of 
 the centre of the ancient river varied, being narrowest where that depth was greatest. 
 
 The vast comparative erosive energy of the Horse-shoe Fall comes strikingly into view when it 
 and the American Fall are compared together. The American branch of the upper river is cut at a 
 right angle by the gorge of the Niagara. Here the Horse-shoe Fall was the real excavator. It cut the 
 rock and formed the precipice over which the American Fall tmpbles. But since its formation, the 
 erosive action of the American Fall has been almost nil, while the Horse-shoe has cut its way for 
 five hundred yards across the end of Goat Island, and is now doubling back to excavate a channel 
 parallel to the length of the island. This point, I have just learned, has not escaped the acute ob- 
 servation of Prof. Ramsay. 0 The river bends ; the Horse-shoe immediately accommodates itself to 
 
 * His words are: — “Where the body of water is small in the American Fall, the edge has only receded a few yards 
 
SABBATH-DAY POINT, LAKE GEORGE. 
 
 85 
 
 the bending, and will follow implicitly the direction of the deepest water in the upper stream. The 
 flexibility of the gorge, if I may use the term, is determined by the flexibility of the river channel 
 above it. Were the Niagara above the Fall sinuous, the gorge would obediently follow its sinuosities. 
 Once suggested, no doubt geographers will be able to point out many examples of this action. The 
 Zambesi is thought to present a great difficulty to the erosion theory, because of the sinuosity of 
 the chasm below the Victoria Falls. But assuming the basalt to be of tolerably uniform texture, 
 had the river been examined before the formation of this sinuous channel, the present zigzag course 
 of the gorge below the Fall could, I am persuaded, have been predicted, while the sounding of the 
 present river would enable us to predict the course to be pursued by the erosion in the future. 
 
 But not only has the Niagara river cut the gorge ; it has carried away the chips of its own work- 
 shop. The shale being probably crumbled is easily carried away. But at the base of the fall we 
 find the huge boulders already described, and by some means or other these are removed down the 
 river. The ice which fills the gorge in winter, and which grapples with the boulders, has been 
 regarded as the transporting agent. Probably it is so to some extent. But erosion acts without 
 ceasing on the abutting points of the boulders, thus withdrawing their support and urging them 
 gradually down the river. Solution also does its portion of the work. That solid matter is carried 
 down is proved by the difference of depth between the Niagara river and Lake Ontario, where the 
 river enters it. The depth falls from seventy-two feet to twenty feet, in consequence of the deposi- 
 tion of solid matter caused by the diminished motion of the river.* 
 
 In conclusion, we may say a word regarding the proximate future of Niagara. At the rate of 
 excavation assigned to it by Sir Charles Lyell, namely, a foot a year, five thousand years or so will 
 carry the Horse-shoe Fall far higher than Goat Island. As the gorge recedes it will drain, as it has 
 hitherto done, the banks right and left of it, thus leaving a nearly level terrace between Goat Island 
 and the edge of the gorge. Higher up it will totally drain the American branch of the river; the 
 channel of which in due time will become cultivable land. The American Fall will then be trans- 
 formed into a dry precipice, forming a simple continuation of the cliffy boundary of the Niagara. At 
 the place occupied by the fall at this moment we shall have the gorge enclosing a right angle, a 
 second whirlpool being the consequence of this. To those who visit Niagara a few millenniums 
 hence I leave the verification of this prediction. All that can be said is, that if the causes now in 
 action continue to act, it will prove itself literally true. 
 
 SABBATH-DAY POINT, LAKE GEORGE. 
 
 O N the western shore of Lake George there is a promontory that is famous in the history of the 
 French and Indian warfare, and in the annals of the Indians themselves. It was here that in 
 July, 1756, Lieutenant Corbierie, with a force of fifty Canadians and three hundred Ottawas, lay in 
 ambush. A day and a night they remained on the watch in their bark canoes waiting for the ap- 
 proach of a body of English troops. At break of day they espied their adversaries, numbering some 
 three hundred, drawing nigh in twenty-two barges, in which they had embarked from Fort William 
 Henry the night before. The engagement was entered into with vigor and resolution on both sides, 
 but the French and Indians soon discovered that they could gain no advantage unless they boarded 
 the English boats. The many massacres which had been perpetrated by the savage allies of the 
 French had made them a terror to the English soldiers, and when the latter saw them approach to 
 close quarters, they became panic-stricken, and pulled towards the bank as fast as possible. Some 
 of them even leaped into the water thinking to escape by swimming ashore ; but it was all in vain. 
 The clumsy boats could not outspeed the canoes, and the English were sflon overtaken. In the 
 first part of the conflict all that were captured were massacred without mercy, but at length the 
 Indians began to take prisoners. The number of captives amounted to one hundred and fifty-seven, 
 
 (where most eroded) during the time that the Canadian Fall has receded from the north corner of Goat Island to the inner- 
 most curve of the Horse-shoe Fall .” — Quarterly Journal of Geological Society , May , 1859. 
 
 * Near the mouth of the gorge at Queenston, the depth, according to the Admiralty Chart, is 180 feet ; well within the 
 gorge it is 132 feet. 
 
SABBATH-DAY 
 
THE ERIE CANAL. 87 
 
 one hundred and thirty-one having been killed — twelve only escaping. On the French side, there 
 was no loss at all, and of the Indians one only was slightly wounded. 
 
 At night, the Indians having imbibed large quantities of ardent spirits, became blood-thirsty, and 
 roasted and ate several of their prisoners. A French officer named Roubard, whose tent was placed 
 in the middle of the encampment of the Ottawas, says that the first object which met his eyes on 
 arriving there, was a large fire. Near it were wooden spits fixed in the earth to which was fastened 
 the body of an Englishman. The skin was stripped off, and more than one-half of the flesh was 
 gone, and a few moments later he saw the savages eat of the remaining flesh with avidity. Close at 
 hand they had meantime tied ten of the prisoners as spectators of the scene. 
 
 Two years later Sabbath-Day Point witnessed the encampment of the greatest expedition ever sent 
 against the French and Canadians. The army comprised 6,350 regulars and 9,000 provincials. The 
 fleet consisted of nine hundred bateaux, one hundred and thirty-five whale-boats, numerous rafts for 
 the transportation of the artillery, and two towers highly decorated, each with two mounted cannon. 
 They landed at Sabbath-Day Point on a Sunday — from which incident the place derived its present 
 name. Montcalm was in command at Ticonderoga, and on the day of the landing sent Capt. De 
 Trepezec, with a detachment of three hundred men to prevent the disembarcation, if possible. The 
 attempt was unsuccessful, however, and only fifty or sixty of the French escaped; De Trepezec 
 being himself mortally wounded. The English loss was only twenty-two, but it included Lord Howe, 
 an officer who was much beloved. 
 
 The following day a battalion of Americans advanced to a post within two miles of Fort Ticon- 
 deroga, and the remainder of the army followed them the same night. In the morning it was deter- 
 mined to attempt to carry the fort by storm. The French had fortified it in every way possible, and 
 had, in addition, felled oak-trees for nearly a hundred yards in front of the lines, their branches 
 sharpened and pointing outward. At one o’clock the order was given to attack, and the provincials 
 marched up to the works, received the fire, and then turned aside to make way for the regulars. The 
 troops moved on through the swamps and underbrush, and strove to force the impenetrable barri- 
 cade. A few Highlanders reached the breast-works, but were instantly slain by the enemy’s bayo- 
 nets. All day long the assault was maintained, but in the evening the English were compelled to 
 abandon the field, leaving their dead and disabled behind them. The number of killed and wounded 
 was 1,942. The following day the army re-embarked and returned to Fort William Henry, and the 
 great Abercrombie expedition was at an end. 
 
 — 
 
 THE ERIE CANAL. 
 
 T HE project of digging a canal that would extend to Lake Erie, had been agitated without sub- 
 stantial success at various times previous to 1815. During the latter part of that year, at a 
 public meeting a committee was selected to memorialize the Legislature on the subject. This duty 
 was performed by their chairman, De Witt Clinton, who prepared what is known as the New York 
 Memorial, in which the practicability and advantages of the projected canal were set forth so clearly 
 and forcibly that the opposition to the scheme fell into a minority. Petitions were presented, signed 
 by thousands of citizens throughout the State, praying for an appropriation for the work, and, finally, 
 the Legislature made an appropriation. A Canal Fund was established, special taxes were levied, 
 and the work was commenced. 
 
 On the 4th of July, 1817, the first spadeful of earth was removed from the surveyed route amid 
 the acclamations of a large concourse of persons, who, says one of the chronicles of the day, 
 “ exulted in the past, enjoyed the present, and anticipated the future.” From that time the work pro- 
 gressed rapidly, although it still met with considerable opposition. Governor Clinton was its most 
 devoted friend, and eloquently expatiated on the advantages which agriculture, manufactures, and 
 commerce would derive from it. Indeed, so persistent were his efforts in its behalf, that the canal 
 is still known by the alias of “ Clinton’s Ditch.” 
 
 The western and last section was completed in 1825, eight years after the beginning of the work, 
 and the success of the undertaking was announced by the firing of cannon all along the route. And 
 
88 
 
 THE ERIE CANAL. 
 
 in truth it was a success of which its projectors had reason to be proud. They had constructed an 
 artificial stream three hundred and sixty-three miles long, forty feet wide on the surface, twenty- 
 eight feet at the bottom, and four feet deep, containing eighty-three locks, built of massive stone, of 
 which the chambers are ninety by fifteen feet, and capable of containing boats of more than a hun- 
 dred tons burden. The difficulties that had been overcome on the eastern section of the canal in 
 the neighborhood of Little Falls, were the most formidable of all. In speaking of this section the 
 Canal Commissioners, after pointing proudly to the fact that American skill had done in eighty days 
 what a foreign engineer had estimated would require several years, say : “ None but those who had 
 examined the line previous to the commencement of the work — who had seen the rude and undu- 
 lating surface which is traversed — the rocks which were to be blasted — the swamps and quicksands 
 which were to be made impervious to water — and, in short, the huge masses of rough materials 
 which with uncommon labor were reduced to symmetry and form, can duly appreciate the efforts 
 which it has required to surmount these serious difficulties.” And, in conclusion, they say that “ had 
 this portion of the work been begun originally, while their information respecting the construction 
 of canals was only theoretical, the attempt would have defeated, or at least postponed for a century, 
 the accomplishment of the great work of internal improvement.” 
 
 Grain-Boat on the Erie Canal. 
 
 The difficulties that met the engineers at Lockport — the canal-boats here enter successively five 
 locks, built of solid masonry, which lift the heavy boat, with its two hundred tons of cargo, seventy- 
 five feet in a few minutes — were also of no ordinary kind. They had to cut through three miles of 
 stone, and build the immense locks, which gave the town its name, in the face of numerous and seri- 
 ous obstacles. But they persevered notwithstanding all discouragements ; and, at last, the work was 
 completed. Then came a season of rejoicing that has not been equalled in the history ot the State. 
 The Governor, in the company of prominent officials, and with many distinguished citizens, traversed 
 the canal, starting from Buffalo, the party being conveyed in a fleet of canal-boats, drawn by gayly- 
 caparisoned horses. Along their whole route they received one continual ovation, at every town the 
 municipal authorities being on hand to welcome them and to exchange congratulations. 1 he news- 
 papers of the day teemed with accounts of the ceremonies. The festivities lasted ten days, and 
 were participated in by nearly the whole population of the State. The wildest and most extravagant 
 prophecies were made respecting the vast wealth the canal would attract to New York city. 1 he 
 whole of the West would send their grain products over its waters. Other States would follow the 
 example of New York, and would build tributaries to the great Erie canal. Governor Clinton 
 poured some of the water of Lake Erie into the Atlantic Ocean to commemorate the communication 
 which had been established between them, and the Common Council ol the city ot New \ ork 
 published a huge memorial of the ceremonies attending the final celebration. 
 
 That to-day with long freight-trains rolling daily over the track ot the New York Central Rail- 
 way, almost side by side with the canal, it should still be a very important aid to ireight transporta- 
 
THE ERIE CANAL. 
 
 89 
 
 tion, shows that the enthusiasts of fifty years ago were not altogether wrong as to its importance. 
 When the Spring thaw sets in, and navigation suspended during the Winter is resumed, thousands 
 and thousands of men obtain employment in various capacities on the many boats ; and there is 
 reason to believe that the freight business of the Canal may yet increase immensely. It has been 
 estimated that the total amount of freight transported from the cereal-producing States of the West to 
 the Atlantic sea-board approximates ten millions of tons annually. Of this the Erie Canal carries alone 
 three millions of tons, notwithstanding the fact that the Canal is only open for six months, and that 
 its great rivals, the New York Central Railroad, the Pennsylvania Railroad, and the Baltimore and 
 Ohio Railroad, are in operation the year round. Exclusive of its branches the Erie Canal, from 
 Buffalo to Albany, is 320 miles long, and about 28,000 men and boys are employed in various capaci- 
 ties in operating the boats during the season, and the number of horses and mules used for towing 
 is about 16,000. In the busy season nearly a hundred and fifty boats reach tide-water through the 
 Erie Canal daily, each boat containing more cargo, according to an eminent engineer, than the 
 average railroad train, or more in the aggregate than twenty miles of railroad trains could carry. Yet 
 it has well been said that while the plodding canal-boat attracts no attention, the railroad train 
 creates a sensation in every village through which it passes. Standing in the roadway or sweet 
 meadow land, attention never rests upon the boat that is gliding through the narrow inland water- 
 way ; the extent of the system is rarely dreamed of, so methodical and unobtrusive is it ; but should 
 a delay occur at one of the locks, in twenty-four hours hundreds of boats would accumulate, with as 
 much grain on board as would feed a nation for at least one day. 
 
 A recent writer in Harper s Magazine gives a vivid description of the habits of those engaged 
 in this traffic : “ There is a vivid charm about all migratory people, and in vagabond adventure and 
 vagabond life we find the breadth and color which elevate the commonplace into the romantic. The 
 changing scenes and multifarious experiences stimulate the memory, quicken the eye, and loosen 
 the tongue. Among those whose vagabondage is a necessity, and valuable commercially, are the 
 canal-boat men. In their vessels they have their homes, their wives, and their children. While 
 they are moving toward the sea-board or to the West, babies are born to them, children are schooled, 
 and young men and women are married. A few own homes on shore, and do not allow their wives 
 to accompany them, but most of them have been brought up in a cabin less spacious than a tent. 
 They are cleanly and moral ; the common schools have had no uses for them ; but in wandering 
 from hamlet to hamlet and city to city, they have acquired singularly varied knowledge, and habits 
 at once creditable to themselves and interesting to the observer.” 
 
 Of the life on board the boats and the scenes to be viewed from them, he further remarks : 
 “ From the windows of some cabins floods of hospitable light poured, revealing domestic groups at 
 supper, reading and sewing ; with the voices of men and women mingled the soft, swelling tones of 
 a parlor organ, and the less musical clicking of several sewing-machines. Contentment and tran- 
 quillity rested upon these water-homes, a gentle spirit pervaded them, and though they were ever 
 moving, the bonds within seemed permanent and strong. There was no riotous conduct, little loud 
 talking, scarcely anything stirring but the water rippling about the stern. The inexpressibly deli- 
 cate outlines of the river banks, and the unclouded, infinite vault above, spread their influence over 
 the good and bad, the rough and gentle, of the cortege alike. Mothers were hushing their children 
 to sleep on some decks, and to complete the picture there loomed in evening light a young boatman 
 bending over the side of his own craft to clasp the hand of his sweetheart on another. Shrewd with 
 strangers, among themselves these people are simple and generous. Our captain’s two daughters 
 were his idols, and of his plans to give them pleasure there was no end. The tough old gentleman 
 was little addicted to profitless day-dreaming, but in speaking of his girls his vision expanded and 
 elevated him to the region of the idealist. At sunset on our second evening out, as the sky was 
 lost in seas of golden light, he stood, drawn to his fullest height, on the roof of the cabin, with his 
 head uncovered, and, while his profile was stamped in clear relief on the glowing expanse, he ten- 
 derly spoke to his wife and us, seated below, of the bright future he intended his eldest daughter 
 should have. Unconsciously his attitude and words expressed the glory of paternal affection, and 
 the wisdom and far-looking thoughts which spring from it.” 
 
 “ The purest democracy exists among boatmen ; obedience is necessarily exacted, but other- 
 wise employees have little reverence in the treatment of their superiors. They eat at the same 
 table, and are waited on by the captain’s wife. While the captain was dozing on deck one of his 
 men would coolly take his pipe out of his mouth, and use it himself. His stories were openly winked 
 
CANAL, NEAR LITTLE FALLS. 
 
THE ERIE CANAL. 
 
 9i 
 
 at, and his manner of calking his own deck loudly depreciated in his presence. All was borne with 
 toleration, and retorted to with somewhat uncouth wit but with good-will. Profanity, by-the-bye, is 
 the commonest sin of the boatmen, and they blaspheme in cold blood, without the enthusiasm or 
 scientific precision of the sailor, and without the idiomatic richness of the Californian.” 
 
 “ Before nightfall we had more glimpses of perfect rural scenery : level miles of velvet-like turf, 
 in superb condition, bounded by hills of the gentlest contours ; fields of strong young grain curling 
 and singing at the touch of the evening breeze ; neat homes hedged in with greenery ; and paths 
 winding toward lovely villages in the hazy distance. The landscape is too calm to be distinctively 
 American : it is not rugged, and the colors have little body. Wells of light seem hidden in the 
 foliage, and stream out at every crevice ; it is surely the land of an olden country. 
 
 “ Night on the canal has the enchantment and mystery of the night upon the ocean. Cool 
 breezes sweep over us, and if the horizon is interrupted at all, it is by the graceful lines of some hill 
 that holds the resplendent tints of the declining sun, and lends nobility to the prospect. As the 
 stars gleam out, myriads of fire-flies imitate them on either bank, and flash across the calm surface 
 of the stream, Each boat carries a brilliant lantern in the bow, which disperses a circle of yellow 
 light on the watery track ahead. The tow-lines dip occasionally with a musical thrill into the water, 
 and in advance you may hear the steady thud of the horses’ hoofs on the ground, or the low cry of 
 the driver as he urges them forward. At the stern the helmsman is singing in a plaintive measure, 
 until a lock engages him. His voice is then deepened. ‘ Lock be-l-o-o-w ! ’ he calls to his mate ; 
 ‘ Ste-a-dy, ste-a-a-dy ! ’ to the driver. There is a momentary clatter of feet upon the deck : we rise 
 smoothly to the new level ; the lock lights fade ; quiet again, and we are traveling with the softness 
 of a dream toward the amber morning.” 
 
 The passage of the Canal near Little Falls, of which we give an illustration, under the lofty bluff 
 which springs at this place from the edge of the Mohawk, is one of the most beautiful of the many 
 beautiful features disclosed to the voyager on this great outlet of the West. No traveler sees a 
 greater variety of fine objects within the same distance than the follower of the Canal from Schenec- 
 tady to Buffalo. 
 
 For a long time the introduction of steam on the Canal has been a problem over which many 
 minds have cogitated. The agitation for cheap transportation which has of late convulsed the West, 
 taken in connection with the bids that other Atlantic cities are making to become the entrepot for 
 the shipment of its productions, has directed much attention to this subject. The difficulty has 
 never been merely in the use of steam, for propelling boats, but in the necessity for competing with 
 horse-power in point of economy, and for preventing the waves from washing the banks of the Canal. 
 The State offered a large reward for the invention of a steam-engine that would meet these two 
 obstacles, and in a competitive trial during the Fall of 1873, Mr. Wm. Baxter was awarded the first 
 prize. The official record of the trial trip marks the speed of the Baxter boat at 3 y^-o miles per hour 
 with a consumption of 141^0 pounds of coal per mile, while carrying a load of more than 200 tons 
 in addition to her machinery and fuel. It was estimated by the Commissioners of Award that the 
 adoption of the Baxter boat on the Canal would result in an annual saving of $4,000,000, since 
 freight can be carried at twice the speed for one-half the cost of horse-boats. This is considered a 
 solution of the problem of steam canal-boats, and vastly enhances the importance of the Canal as a 
 part of our system of internal improvements. 
 
 The cities of Buffalo, Rochester, Syracuse, Utica, Rome, Schenectady, and Albany, are on the 
 Erie Canal, and almost entirely by its means is the transportation of heavy freight and grain between 
 these cities and the smaller towns on the line accomplished. One of these long, low and narrow 
 canal-boats will contain from one to two hundred tons of freight ; they are built mainly with a view 
 to strength, and owe their peculiar shape to the small width of the canal. Syracuse is one of the 
 principal towns on the Erie Canal. For many years it has been largely engaged in the manufacture 
 of salt, and the Canal has greatly helped the commercial prosperity of the city in furnishing a cheap 
 medium for the transportation of its staple. The salt-works at Syracuse are comparatively exten- 
 sive, and the shipments from them are very large. Buffalo, which is now a large city, was not 
 much more than a village at the opening of the Canal in 1825. Rochester, Utica, and Syracuse were 
 insignificant country places, while a host of the minor towns that now lie on its banks were not in 
 existence. It may, in truth, be safely said that to the Erie Canal New York owes much of the 
 wealth and prosperity which she to-day enjoys. 
 
92 
 
 IN THE ADIRONDACKS. 
 
 IN THE ADIRONDACKS. 
 
 T HE Adirondack wilderness has of late become a favorite resort, owing to its proximity to 
 settled communities and its many attractions to the sportsman and tourist. The Adirondack 
 region or North Woods, as it is often called, lies between Lakes George and Champlain on the 
 east, and the St. Lawrence river on the north and west. Its area is about equal to that of the 
 State of Connecticut. It reaches northward to the boundaries of Canada, and southward to Boone- 
 ville. The southern part, known as “ Brown’s Tract,” is the least interesting. It lacks the wild 
 landscapes, the numerous lakes, and the lofty mountains of the northern countries, and is tame in 
 comparison. The real wilderness, above the Raquette river, is as primitive and natural as can be 
 imagined. The forests are immense and imposing in their solitude. The axe of the lumberman 
 has made no inroads upon them, and therefore, the vestiges of deserted lumber camps do not, as in 
 the Maine forests, interfere with the picturesqueness of the landscape. The air is clear and bracing, 
 and at all times free from malaria. An artist who has traveled all over Switzerland, and through the 
 Rhine and Rhone regions, says that he has nowhere found scenery which, judged from a purely 
 artistic point of view, combines so many beauties with so much grandeur. It is estimated that 
 a thousand lakelets, many yet unvisited, are walled in by these vast forests of pine and hemlock. 
 The Rev. W. H. H. Murray, to whose enthusiastic descriptions the Adirondacks owe much of their 
 recently acquired celebrity, counted, from the summit of a mountain, forty-four with the naked eye. 
 
 This region has been called the “ Sportsman’s Paradise,” from the fact that most of the sporting 
 can be done from a boat, the whole country being intersected by a chain, or to speak more correctly, 
 by a system of lakes. It is not necessary to undergo long and tiresome tramps through under- 
 growth and brambles, over swamps and morasses, with drooping branches to flap in your face, carry 
 off your hat, or otherwise try your patience : but you glide along the quiet waters of the lakes, or 
 paddle along the windings of the rivers, overhung by the outlying pines, and fringed with water-lilies 
 that mingle their fragrance with the clear mountain air. You save your strength and your temper 
 — and these are very important considerations to amateur sporting-men, whose chief aim is health, 
 recreation, and amusement. 
 
 A guide is indispensable on a trip into the wilderness, and much of the tourist’s pleasure depends 
 upon the man he chooses. So many people now make annual excursions to the Adirondacks that, 
 in the height of the season, a good guide is difficult to obtain. To those who wish to camp out, 
 the necessary provisions are salt, coffee, sugar, condensed milk, &c. ; enough venison and trout 
 can be obtained in the wilderness to satisfy all wants. The favorite season for these excursions 
 is midsummer. The snow has then melted from the mountains, and the climate is dry and delight- 
 ful, the thermometer ranging between seventy and eighty degrees : the water is not very high, and 
 the portages are in good condition. 
 
 Game of the larger kind is plenty. The woods are so unfrequented that the deer have not yet 
 been driven away, but they are no longer to be seen in droves. Trout are plenty everywhere, and 
 at times the water seems almost alive with them. It is also said that amid impenetrable jungles in 
 the most secluded districts more dangerous inhabitants are still established in their hidden lairs : 
 but the only evidence of the panther having frequented these mountains must be looked for in the 
 stories with which the guides beguile away the hours spent around the camp-fire. Black bears and 
 wolves are still numerous in certain districts, but they appear to have concluded a permanent truce 
 with visitors, and are rarely seen on the banks of the lakes, even during the depth of winter, and 
 their chief object seems to be to escape observation and molestation. 
 
 The extraordinary number of mountains (it is said that not less than two hundred distinct peaks 
 can be counted) are the true glory of this region. To quote the imagery ot an accomplished writer 
 to whose work we arc indebted for much information, “they are so compacted that their bases some- 
 times touch. So wildly disjointed and irregular is the system of mountains, it stands as though an 
 ocean tossed by tempest had been suddenly congealed, and these strange heights had in ages follow- 
 ing become clothed and in their right mind.” Many of the passes between these mountains have 
 been only partially explored, but if the present yearly accession to the ranks of the tourists who visit 
 this region continues, the spirit of inquiry and adventure thereby necessarily engendered will doubt- 
 less cause some of these passes to become as famous as certain portions of Switzerland. 
 
M I 
 
94 
 
 IN THE A DIE ONE A CHS. 
 
 From the graphic description of his trip on the lakes given by S. I. Prime in his admirable book, 
 Under the Trees, we subjoin the following. Mr. Prime started from Paul Smith’s Hotel, passed 
 through Spitfire Lake, and then, after traversing a narrow passage, reached St. Regis Lake, the 
 upper. “ This is nearly on the summit of the lake region, 1,500 or 2,000 feet above the sea, its waters 
 flowing off to the north, and the lakes into which we are soon to come discharging themselves east- 
 ward, and then northeasterly into Lake Champlain. A sense of exquisite beauty filled me as the 
 skiff glided gracefully into the midst of this lovely sheet of water. The sun was now well up in the 
 blue, cloudless sky. Many isles lay around on the bosom of the lake. They and the shores were 
 covered with dense pine and spruce trees. The water was like a polished mirror of steel. The 
 islands were reflected. So was the heaven above me. Sometimes over the forest shores the dis- 
 tant ranges of mountains told me there was a world beyond and out of the limits of the bowl in 
 which I was floating. But the lake seemed as a little sea of glass, clear as crystal, brilliant in the 
 sun, skirted with living green, evergreen, and the feeling of the place was that of perfect isolation 
 from ‘ the world and the rest of mankind.’ During all the tour of these and three or four lakes yet 
 to be mentioned, I did not see a boat or the face of a man, or anything to intimate that one had ever 
 entered this charming desert before. No voice, no gun, no bark of a dog in the all-surrounding 
 forest disturbed the deep serenity of the scene. Now and then the scream of a loon, fearfully like that 
 of a human cry, would pierce the ear and increase the stillness as it ceased. But for my guide, who 
 happily was stupid and said nothing, I was the only man there. It was a natural paradise, and I was 
 as solitary as Adam before Eve appeared. Charles V. said of the cathedral of Burgos, such was its 
 beauty, it should be put under a glass case and kept for show. It was almost painful to me that the 
 loveliness of this scene is lost to the world. Why is such a waste of glory here ? The sun shines 
 on nothing more charming to behold. Here it lies, and the summer dies away into winter ; and 
 then the spring clothes it with resurrection beauty again. ' Perhaps the angels see it. But why was 
 so much glory spilled where so few mortals, out of millions, ever see it ? 
 
 “ We touched the southern shore of the lake and stood in the margin of a dense forest, appar- 
 ently impenetrable, certainly gloomy, damp, and cold. Out of the thicket emerged an old man, in 
 many-colored and patched raiment, with long and matted beard and hair, who was not far above his 
 companions of the woods, and this queer old fellow had with him a horse and a sled. Without 
 words, for his business was understood by the guide, who knew where to meet him, the little boat 
 was pulled out of the water and hoisted upon the sled, and we three trudged behind it as the beast 
 drew it along over the damp, swampy way that had been made for this purp~.se. This is called a 
 ‘ carry.’ The old ferryman proved to be a character, a Frenchman, whose first name was Moses. 
 
 “ At the door of the cabin of Moses the Trapper we embarked on Big Clear Pond, a round lake, 
 with no islands in it, and four miles in diameter. The wind had now risen, and as the little skiff 
 danced about merrily, my dull guide sought to entertain me with narrow escapes he had made on 
 former excursions, when he had ladies for passengers, who had been frightened greatly on this very 
 lake, which has a fine sweep for the wind, and easily makes a great swell.” 
 
 Of the Upper Saranac Mr. Prime says : “This is the queen of the lakes. It is nine miles long, 
 with irregular shores, wooded points putting out and making lovely nooks and bays, with frequent 
 isles floating, as it were, on the surface. Some of these islands have traditions hanging around 
 them, and one of them will be pointed out for years to come as the scene of a tragical event that 
 happened upon it this very season. At the close of a very fine day last spring, a man and his wife 
 had rowed out to the island, and were sitting near the shore enjoying the sunset. A gentleman out 
 on the lake with his guide and boat espied something white on the island, and the guide insisted 
 that it was a loon. The gentleman was not satisfied, but the guide took his rifle and fired, killing 
 the woman on the spot. 
 
 “ A map of this wilderness country will show a hundred and more lakes to the west of the one 
 we are now passing through, and weeks as easily as days might be spent in going from one to an- 
 other ; but the journey would become tedious perhaps from sameness. Sweets cloy. This chain of 
 lakes is ‘ linked sweetness long drawn out.’ It is a system of lakes, father than a chain. Raquette 
 Lake is the largest of them all, with a shore of ninety miles, and it is 1,800 feet above the sea, and the 
 Blue Mountain rises east of it 4,000 feet high, with a lake of the same name at its foot, esteemed 
 the Pearl of the Wilderness. Raquette River enters Long Lake, sixteen miles long, and coming 
 out of it, is navigable for thirty miles, and then enters Tupper’s Lake, more celebrated for its pic- 
 turesque beauty than any of the many around it. When the river leaves this lake again, it rolls its 
 
* 
 
 UPPER AUSABLE LAKE. 
 
 
9 6 
 
 IN THE ADIRONDACKS. 
 
 augmented volume out of the wilderness into the fertile fields of St. Lawrence County. Thus the 
 whole length and breadth of this strange country may be traversed by boats so light as to be easily 
 carried on the shoulders of a man.” 
 
 It is apparently a labor of love to describe this region, and this is what the Rev. Murray has to 
 say of it : “ If you go in by way of the Saranacs, do not camp down there, as some do, but pass 
 over Indian Carry through the Spectacle Lake and Ramshorn Creek (sometimes called Stony 
 Creek), into the Raquette river. Then turn up or down, as you please. If you desire to see some 
 of the finest scenery imaginable, pass up the Raquette to Long Lake, and when some two miles up 
 the lake turn your face to the north, and you will behold what is worth the entire journey to see. 
 Then go on and do not camp, until you do so on the southern or western shore of Raquette Lake. 
 Here you will find good sporting and scenery unsurpassed. Build here your central camp, and as 
 soon as you are established go over to what is called the Wood’s Place, and from the knoll on which 
 the house stands, you will see one of the finest water-views in the world. Then visit Terrace Lodge, 
 on an island to the front and left. From thence paddle to Beaver Bay, and you will find a point in 
 it from which you can arouse a whole family of sleeping echoes along the western ridge and the 
 woods opposite. Then go to Constable Point, and quench your thirst in the coolest, sweetest spring 
 of pure water, from which you ever drank. Go next to the southern part of the lake, so hidden 
 behind the islands that no one would suspect what a lovely sheet of water lay beyond, with its two 
 beautiful reaches of softly shining sand, one as white as silver, the other as yellow as gold ; and in 
 the waters which lave the golden, you will find the best bathing in the whole wilderness. Do not 
 leave this region until you have made an excursion to that Lake George in miniature, Blue Moun- 
 tain Lake, and fill your mind with an impression which will remain in memory as one of the sweet 
 and never-to-be-forgotten recollections of life. When you have retraced your progress up, and 
 reached the mouth of Ramshorn Creek, keep on down the Raquette until you have swung round 
 to Big Tupper Lake, and stood on the sloping edge over which the outlet of Round Lake and Little 
 Tupper pours its full tide in thunder and foam ; and if it be not too late in the season, and you 
 know how to use the rod, you will raise, amid the froth and eddies of the falls, some of the largest 
 and brightest-looking trout that ever gladdened a sportsman’s eye. Then, if you are robust and full 
 of pluck, force your way over the four-mile carry between the falls and Round Lake, and, hurrying 
 on through its sluggish waters, do not pause until you enter the narrow secluded stretch of Little 
 Tupper. As you pass out, visit the St. Regis waters, by the way of Big Wolf and Rollin’s Pond and 
 Long Pine, and so circle down to Martin’s.” 
 
 This would make a trip that would take in all the beauties of the Adirondacks. 
 
 The feat known as “ running the rapids” is one that has long been practiced by the boatmen of 
 Canada and the northern part of the United States. Rapids are so numerous in the smaller of the 
 North American streams that if boatmen were compelled to make a circuit of each of them, a voyage 
 would be decidedly laborious ; but they use light canoes and cedar shells, many not drawing over 
 two inches of water, which are peculiarly adapted to the purpose, and with these they “ run the 
 rapids.” The rapids of the Raquette river in the Adirondacks are three miles in length, and so 
 turbulent that, until recently, even the experienced guides would not go over them. It is a stretch 
 of madly-rushing water, save where, at the foot of some perpendicular fall, there is a “ gool ” stud- 
 ded with bubbles, and flecked with patches of froth. The river is full of boulders, among which the 
 water glides smooth and deep, or it dashes with foaming violence against them. At various places 
 the river with great swiftness shoots down steep declivities, and at others pours over perpen- 
 dicular falls. But these waters were safely run by Mr. Murray, who strapped his rifle, rod, and 
 baggage to the bottom and sides of his boat, and prepared everything so that, in case of catastrophe, 
 he could swim ashore, and let his baggage follow him. 
 
 Nearly every one, no matter how little of a sportsman he may be, knows that deer traverse the 
 native forest through what are called “ runs.” These natural pathways, hardly perceptible to un- 
 sophisticated city people, are well known to all the hunters and guides, and always lead to water, to 
 which the instinct of the deer causes it to fly whenever alarmed/. This propensity is a fatal mistake 
 where deer-shooting is pursued in the methodical manner which prevails in the Adirondacks : 
 
 “ The brave, hardy, eager gentlemen from New York and other cities are now prepared to go out 
 the next morning to renew the chase. They go two or three times a week, and as the hunt is 
 attended with great expense, exposure, and fatigue, and many are to share in it, it is just that each 
 should have a fair chance to bag the game and glory of the day. The shore of the lake is laid ofi 
 
LAKE ST. REGIS 
 
9 8 
 
 IN THE A D IR OND A CKS. 
 
 into sections, and each section has its point of observation. These points are a considerable dis- 
 tance asunder, and lots are drawn by which the station of each one going to join the hunt is deter- 
 mined. This allotment is made overnight, that when early morning comes, each brave deer-slayer 
 repairs to his post, and with all the patience he may possess awaits the issue. With him, in a light 
 boat, is the guide, who rows and knows the spot to which his man is assigned. The boat soon 
 reaches the point, and nothing is to be done but to wait, in it or on the shore, as the wary and 
 anxious sportsman pleases. Thus the lake is environed with the watchful picket guardsmen. 
 
 “ In the mean time a real huntsman — a paid and experienced man of the woods — enters the 
 forest, with a leash of hounds, some six or eight, attached to his belt. Well in, he lets off a dog, 
 trained to the service and eager to have a run, who begins at once to run in a circle, widening con- 
 stantly as he seeks to get upon the trail of a deer. The hunter goes on and lets off another dog, 
 and then another, until he has started his whole pack, who, running in circles, scour the whole 
 forest, and seldom fail to scare up a buck. The moment the dog strikes the scent he begins to bark, 
 and the glad sound meets the distant ears of the waiting watchers on the lake. The deer, alarmed, 
 instinctively takes to the water, as the only way to break the trail and deprive the dog of his scent, 
 by which he is keeping up the chase. The noble animal rushes through the forest into the lake to 
 swim across. He is the prize of the boat nearest to which he takes the water. The guide rows in 
 pursuit of him, and being able to row far more rapidly than the poor beast can swim, has no diffi- 
 culty in overtaking him. When he has come so near that the merest bungler with a gun, who could 
 not hit a barn door across the road, can now put the muzzle of the gun into the ear of the animal, if 
 he please, the gallant Nimrod blazes away with his new rifle, lodges the bullet in the brain of the 
 beast, and the work is done. If the deer, however, will not keep still long enough to be shot in this 
 way, the guide takes him by the tail and holds him while the accomplished sportsman shoots him in 
 the head. It sometimes occurs that even then, with the buck thus held by the tail at one end and 
 the rifle in the hands of an excited shooter at another, the ball goes all abroad and the game is not 
 hurt. Then the guide, with an oar or with his own stalwart arms, manages to get the animal’s head 
 under water, and so drowns him. But in the best of the business, it requires the same amount 
 of science, skill, valor, and endurance to kill a deer, that it would to go out to the barn and kill the 
 cow. Give the cow the run of the yard, and it would be more of a feat to bring her down with a 
 rifle than to slay a deer in the Adirondacks.” 
 
 The annoyance from insects is considerable, but even this has been greatly exaggerated. The 
 “ black fly,” a small dark-colored fly about the size of a red ant, is plentiful during the earlier months 
 of the summer, but disappears in July. Its bite, though annoying, is not poisonous, and abundant 
 protection may be found against it. Mosquitoes and gnats are also numerous in some localities, but 
 if care is taken in the selection of the camps, they will not be very troublesome. A headland or a 
 point over the lake, where the wind is felt, or an island, is the best ground for camping, so far as 
 insects are concerned ; but under any circumstances it is a trifling drawback to the healthfulness 
 and enjoyment of life in the woods. The climate is here so genial and constant, and the air is so 
 clear and balmy that even people in the most delicate health may “camp out” without risk. The 
 atmosphere is odorous with pine and cedar and balsam, and free from all impurities. Nevertheless, 
 the most intelligent opinion is that these solitudes are not good places for those unfortunates to visit 
 who are afflicted with consumption : but as a place to recuperate from the insidious diseases that 
 arise from a too intense application to sedentary pursuits, this district is generally conceded to be 
 without a rival. Those of good physical strength, but worn down with brain work, recruit with a 
 rapidity which can only be described as being little short of marvelous. Scarcely any physical exer- 
 tion is required on the trip. Walking is unnecessary during the hunting, fishing, and sight-seeing, 
 all that being done from the boats ; and the visitor is reduced to pedestrianism only when going and 
 coming across the “ carries,” which, in the parts most frequented, are generally short, and with tew 
 exceptions, afford good walking ground. There are some parts, it is true, where no ease-loving 
 tourist dare venture — places where the portages are mere swamps, and the boat and traps must be 
 dragged or carried, while the hardy adventurer is waist-deep in mud and water. But guides have 
 no particular love for such localities, and, unless otherwise expressly directed, will keep at a respect- 
 ful distance from them. 
 
 i 
 
THE WONDERS OF THE COLORADO RIVER. 
 
 99 
 
 THE WONDERS OF THE COLORADO RIVER. 
 
 F ORMED in the southwestern part of Utah by the union of the Green River with the Grand, 
 the Colorado rolls southward through a part of Arizona, into the Gulf of California. There 
 are few streams in the world which are so extraordinary in their formation, and so singular in their 
 history and reputation, or which are characterized by natural scenery at once so peculiar and so 
 sublime. 
 
 Although the river, measured from the source of the Green, is nearly two thousand miles long, 
 and is the largest American tributary of the Pacific, two causes render it to a great extent un- 
 navigable, and will undoubtedly keep it so forever. The first is its excessive decrease in volume 
 during the dry season ; the other is the formation of its bed, by which a thousand impassable bar- 
 riers are presented to the navigator. The stream is marked in many places for long distances by 
 a succession of rapids of extraordinary violence and forbidding hazards, and these alternate in end- 
 less variety with cataracts, whirlpools, and powerful eddies. At one point, the stream has cut its 
 way by the wear of ages through a jutting angle of solid rock, and is sucked with irresistible force 
 through its new channel ; at another, it rushes along a declivity as steep as a house-top with the 
 speed of a locomotive. In some places the river is impassable even to the smallest boats ; as for 
 craft of a greater size, it is altogether useless to think of making any headway with that. Below 
 these obstructions there is to the mouth of the river an unimpeded distance of over six hundred 
 miles, and this during certain seasons can be traversed by steam ; but when the water has fallen, 
 large vessels can get no further than thirty-five miles from the outlet. 
 
 But what is most remarkable about the Colorado and its tributaries, is the extraordinary charac- 
 ter of its rocky banks — its canons. These impart to it the unparalleled scenery for which it is 
 famous, and make it a stream like which there is no other. These canons are over five hundred 
 miles long, the Grand Canon being alone over two hundred. 
 
 The canon is a frequent physical feature of the Pacific and southwestern regions of the United 
 States. It is simply a deep ravine or gulch — an extended fissure in the earth — and is peculiar only 
 in respect to great magnitude and imposing aspect. Canons of enormous depth are found in the 
 vicinity of the Rocky Mountains, and some of the greatest are within view of the cars of the 
 Overland railroad. But there are certainly none more marvelous, in all respects more profoundly 
 impressive, than of the Colorado. 
 
 In these mountain passes the river takes its course between perpendicular banks of solid rock 
 that rise to a stupendous height. We seem to be in the very heart of the earth. On the black 
 waters flowing between their mighty walls there is profoundest gloom. An unearthly chill, an inex- 
 plicable dread, seizes upon the adventurous travelers floating on those dark tides. Perhaps the 
 silence of the grave is about them, or perhaps to their ears is borne from the mysterious unknown 
 ahead, shut out from their view by the cliffs that hem them in, the roar of an untried cataract or a 
 tumultuous rapid. As high as they can lift their eyes only the perpendicular face of rock, seamed 
 by many varied geological strata ; and straight overhead like a blue ribbon suspended far, far above 
 them, a narrow strip of sky. 
 
 From the giddy height above, the spectacle has not less of awful sublimity. Looking down upon 
 the stream below, it is like a band of silver barely a foot wide laid along the bottom of the profound 
 chasm ; or if at night, with the moon’s rays falling between the rocky walls, the whole abyss may be 
 aglow, and a vein of golden splendor seam the earth. 
 
 One of the most impressive of these canons is represented in our illustration. Our two minor 
 illustrations give views of Moqui, one of the stone cities of Arizona, inhabited by the Pueblos or 
 Moquis Indians. This tribe is by some supposed to be descended from the Aztecs, or from their 
 predecessors the Toltecs ; but whatever their origin, their stone towns are certainly unique, and 
 like their religious and social customs and their national or, rather, tribal character, are of much 
 interest. These towns are built upon commanding eminences overlooking the Colorado River, 
 and can be approached only through narrow defiles in the rocks on which they stand. The houses 
 are of mud and stone, two and three stories high. They are entered by ladders reaching to the 
 second story, and when these temporary stairways are drawn up, as they are made to be, each 
 dwelling becomes in truth a castle, and a strong one at that, as was conclusively shown during 
 
*oo 
 
 THE JVONDERS OF THE COLORADO RIVER. 
 
 the Mexican war, it being then found that they were proof against field-artillery. It is supposed that 
 their former inhabitants were a quiet, industrious, agricultural people, who built these curious 
 dwelling-places for protection against wandering tribes of savages. Traces of their existence are 
 found not only along the Colorado, but all over that region, in pottery, fallen houses of stone and 
 adobe, and curious hieroglyphics. 
 
 Many of the stone cities are without populations, like many of the stone houses. They are fallen 
 and deserted relics of a once numerous people — perhaps of a civilization. Of the seven inhabited 
 towns the average population is about three hundred each. Each town has its own chief, and 
 is entirely independent of the others ; but the people are all well-acquainted with each other, 
 associate, and have the same religious faith and social customs. They are peaceable and hospi- 
 table, though not free from some habits which are natural to the savage the world over. Their 
 religious belief is very remarkable, considering their location. Every morning they mount the roofs 
 ff their houses, and turning eastward, render homage to the rising sun. At the same time a 
 number of men, girdled with strings of bells, start off toward the East, and run a mile or so at full 
 speed, while their bells fill the air with a wild jingling ; then they return, the people on the house- 
 tops come down, and the uproar ceases. The reason for this curious usage is a tradition which is 
 extant among them, that on some future day Montezuma will come to them from the sun, and 
 restore their ancient glory. They, therefore, send out an escort every day to receive him, should 
 he happen to make his appearance. Not less singular is their belief that the time of their restora- 
 tion depends upon the condition of their habitations ; and the sooner the latter have fallen into 
 utter natural decay, the sooner will the former arrive. Thus it comes to be a part of their religion 
 to let everything go to rack and ruin. They are even said to have refused aid from the United 
 States Government. 
 
 One curious legend that is said to be extant among them is related in this wise : “ In times long 
 past a woman of superior beauty resided among the neighboring mountains. All the men admired 
 and paid court to her. She received the tributes of their devotion, grain, skins, etc., but gave no 
 favors in return. Her virtue and her determination to remain secluded were equally firm. There 
 came a drought which threatened famine. In their distress the people applied to her, and she gave 
 them corn from her stock, and the supply seemed to be endless. Her goodness was unbounded. 
 One day, as she was lying asleep, a drop of rain fell upon her, and produced conception. A son 
 was the issue, who became the founder of the race that built these cities of stone.” In Oribay, one 
 of the seven towns, an old woman is still said to be living that has the blood of this marvelous being 
 in her veins, and like her progenitor, was once possessed of wonderful beauty. She receives general 
 reverence. 
 
 The town of Moqui which is represented in our illustrations, is situated on a cliff that is at least 
 fifteen hundred feet high. The top of the cliff is wedge-shaped, half a mile long, and at its widest 
 part perhaps two hundred yards across. On the same rock are two others of the stone cities. Water 
 is obtained from reservoirs that have been hollowed out in the surface of the rock ; but these are 
 sometimes exhausted, and it then becomes necessary to go to the foot of the cliff. 
 
 These strange Indian cities are certainly of sufficient interest to be mentioned even in connec- 
 tion with the wonderful Colorado. So different are the Moquis in their customs, character, desires, 
 and belief from the other Indian tribes of that vicinity, that a totally different origin is almost neces- 
 sarily inferred. It is true that their descent from the Aztecs or the Toltecs is not fully established, 
 but it is certain that in their habitations, in their modes of life, and in their traditions there is much 
 to make such a hypothesis probable. And here they live on the bluffs overlooking the Colorado, in 
 their decaying cities, a dying people, and the nearer they come to their extinction, the nearer believ- 
 ing the advent of their redeemer to be, and their restoration to national power and glory. 
 
 The Moquis cities were visited in 1871 by Mr. E. O. Beaman, a member of the expedition that 
 explored the Colorado in that year. The experiences of this expedition are full of vivid interest. 
 For a long time the Colorado, as well as the Green River which helps to form it, had been the sub- 
 ject of the most marvelous stories. In the sixteenth century a Mexican exploring party reported 
 the discovery of a river with banks so steep they could not be scaled or descended, and nine miles 
 high. About one hundred years ago a Spanish priest, who had visited the Colorado, writes that the 
 banks were so high that “ a rock which, when lying in the river and seen from the cliff, appeared no 
 larger than a man’s hand, was found to be, at the water’s level, as large as the cathedral at Seville.” 
 Hunters and miners occasionally contributed to swell still more these exaggerated reports by ac- 
 
THE WONDERS OF THE COLORADO RIVER. ioi 
 
 counts of their own hair-breadth escapes and severe sufferings when lost amid the rocky fastnesses 
 that enclose these streams. In 1867, James White and Henry Strole, two gold-seekers, finding 
 themselves in a country beset by hostile Indians, constructed a raft, and descended the Colorado 
 from a point on the Grand, about thirty miles above its junction with the Green, preferring to en- 
 counter the unknown perils of that voyage rather than the known danger of discovery by the red- 
 skins. They had been only four days under way when Strole was drowned. White then continued 
 
 Distant View of Moqui, with Sheep-pens in the Foreground. 
 
 the voyage, and succeeded in reaching Callville, but only after ten days of the greatest hardship and 
 deprivation. His experiences form a thrilling narrative. 
 
 In 1869 a Government expedition was fitted out under command of Major J. W. Powell for the 
 exploration of the Canons of the Colorado. They reached Callville after many striking adventures ; 
 but not satisfied with the results of their labors, a second expedition was fitted out — also under com- 
 mand of Major Powell— with the purpose of exploring not only the river, but the whole valley of the 
 Colorado. Beginning at the point where the Union Pacific Railroad crosses the Green River, they 
 
102 
 
 THE WONDERS OF THE COLORADO RIVER. 
 
 have already explored a distance of one thousand miles to the end of the Grand Canon ; but the 
 expedition is not yet at an end. To complete their surveys it is supposed will require until the latter 
 part of 1875. 
 
 The expedition was organized at Green River City, Wyoming Territory, in May, 1871, the party 
 consisting of various scientific men and artists, among them the Mr. Beaman before-mentioned, who 
 was a photographer from New York. The boats were three in number, properly provided with 
 water-tight compartments and with other equipments stowed away in rubber sacks, the outfit being 
 calculated to be sufficient for a year and a half. They descended the Green River to the Colorado, 
 and then the latter stream, traversing a distance of six hundred miles, in which there was not less 
 than four hundred rapids, by the 22d day of the succeeding October, at which time they went into 
 winter-quarters. They had prepared themselves for encountering the greatest perils and hardships, 
 nor were they much mistaken in their anticipations. 
 
 On the 2d of June, writes Mr. Beaman, they ran four very difficult rapids in going one mile, 
 and were then forced to land and bail out the boats which were nearly full of water. 
 
 “ After making everything secure again ” — we quote from Mr. Beaman’s journal—" we started 
 out, and soon came to a very sudden bend in the river. The water, having worn a passage far under 
 the rocks, sucked everything into it like a whirlpool. In passing the corner the Nellie Powell (one 
 of the boats) was drawn under by this mighty current force, and capsized. The crew narrowly 
 escaped drowning, but managed to reach the shore without great damage. * * 
 
 “ The Emma Dean also struck the wall, and carried away a rowlock ; but the Cafionita rounded 
 the turn successfully. * * * One mile further on we passed four fearful rapids, through 
 
 which the boats plunged at a terrific rate, each nearly filling with water. The walls of rbck are 
 closing in as if to immure us in a monster tomb, and a certain terror fastens on a man’s vitals as the 
 grim shadows deepen, while yet life itself appears not to fascinate as does that unknown water-track 
 beckoning us on. 
 
 “ Camped at n a.m. for dinner, amid the most awful solitude we could imagine, the walls of the 
 canon rising on either side to the height of two thousand feet. Pulled out again at 1 p.m. ; found the 
 river very rough. Ran one mile, shipping large quantities of water. * * * The current of the 
 
 river is very swift here, running upward of twenty miles an hour.” 
 
 June 5th he writes: ‘‘The day has been full of excitement, not unaccompanied by danger, for 
 we have run twenty fearful rapids in coming six miles. Imagination cannot create an enjoyment so 
 full of nervous dread and daring as the dash through these rapids at the rate of thirty miles an hour. 
 
 “Arrived at Ashley Falls at 3 p.m. Here it was thought best that a ‘genuine portage’ should 
 be made. The boats were accordingly unloaded, and two of them lifted over the cliff, a height of 
 fifty feet, carried about a hundred yards, and then lowered into the river again at the foot of the falls. 
 The Canonita we decided to let go ‘ by the run,’ which she did in fine style, coming out like a duck 
 from the combing wave.” 
 
 Later in the same month two of the party left the boats to take a measurement of certain carbon- 
 iferous cliffs that attracted their attention. Having reached the summit of a rocky height on the 
 river’s edge, and wishing to descend on a side opposite to that by which they had come, they looked 
 for some spot at which they might find a grade sufficiently easy. They proceeded for two miles, the 
 sides of the cliff for all that distance being perpendicular for the first two hundred feet downward. 
 As they proceeded, they rose higher and higher, until at last they were on the highest part ot the 
 canon-walls, two thousand five hundred feet above the level of the river. Here they found a dan- 
 gerous pass which they tried to descend, but after traversing the slope for fifteen hundred feet, they 
 found the descent suddenly changed to a perpendicular for the next thousand feet. They were by 
 this time suffering the pangs of thirst ; it was also growing late, and they had no time to lose, it 
 they would not be overtaken by night amid these pitiless rocks. They finally contrived to reach the 
 river, but it was then nearly sunset, and they had accomplished nothing. There was nothing lot t 
 but to return to camp by the easiest and shortest way. The route by which they had come was 
 much too wearisome and difficult, and so they looked about for some other. They found one that 
 seemed promising, but after a most painful and hazardous ascent of eighteen hundred teet, they 
 found their further progress prevented by a blank wall two hundred feet high. They had no choice 
 but to return to the river the way they had come. Here they endeavored to follow the course ot the 
 river back to camp, “ through thorny underbrush and rose-briers, over cragged rocks, through mud, 
 and often waist-deep in the water, with bleeding hands and exhausted frames.” At ten o’clock even 
 
THE WONDERS OF THE COLORADO RIVER. 
 
 103 
 
 this toilsome march was brought to a stop by a jutting cliff that cut off all further progress. For- 
 tunately it was a bright moonlight night, and presently finding a dry cedar stump, they floated out 
 into the stream with it, hoping to reach camp in that way. 
 
 “ For a short distance they floated admirably ; but, just as they were beginning to congratulate 
 each other upon the success of the undertaking, a roar like that of a rapid fell upon their ears. They 
 knew there was no rapid at that point, having passed it a few days before ; hence what new danger 
 menaced them ? Their anxiety, however, was soon too well justified. A salient angle in the wall 
 
 jutted sharply into the current, causing a whirlpool which they were too near to avoid. Clem was 
 not a good swimmer ; and, as they neared the pool, Mr. Steward became aware that, while the cedar- 
 stub might carry one person through, two trusting to it must be lost ; so, when warned by the in- 
 creasing suction that the time had come, he loosed his hold on the frail support, and trusted to God 
 and his own muscle. The whirling waters seized him, and carried him — how far under he knew not ; 
 but, struggling against the terrible force, he struck for the surface. Several times he came so near 
 as to see a faint line of light, and as many times was drawn under again.” 
 
 Finally, as he was on the point of succumbing, he found himself beyond the reach of the whirl- 
 ing waves, and striking out feebly, reached the surface in quiet water. A little below he saw his 
 
THE WONDERS OF THE COLORADO RIVER. 
 
 104 
 
 companion, the cedar-stub having carried him safely through. He reached this frail support with 
 much difficulty, and the two soon afterward arrived safely in camp. But they had canon experience 
 enough for one day. 
 
 Of all the canons on the Green and the Colorado, the Grand Canon is in every respect the largest. 
 It is over two hundred miles long, and varies in depth from four thousand to seven thousand feet. 
 The stream is here from fifty to five hundred feet wide, and the descent is in some places as much 
 as two hundred feet to the mile. Below the Grand is the Black Canon, which is twenty-five miles 
 long, with banks from one thousand to fifteen hundred feet high. Horseshoe Canon is on the Green 
 River, and is so named from its resemblance to a horseshoe. The walls are of red and yellow sand- 
 stone, perpendicular, and two thousand feet high. At this place there is a dangerous rapid, immense 
 boulders cleaving the stream. The current flows at the rate of twenty miles an hour, and the waves 
 dash wildly six and eight feet high. Red Canon is below the Horseshoe, and is so named from the 
 brilliant color of its walls. Lower down still is Swallow Canon, in which, for a distance of two miles, 
 the walls are lined on both sides of the river with myriads of swallows’ nests. 
 
 Among the most sublime of the canons on the Green River is the Canon of Lodore, named 
 from Southey’s poem, “ How do the Waters come down at Lodore?” “This canon,” writes Mr. 
 Beaman, “ is very narrow at its entrance, being only about one hundred and fifty yards wide. The 
 walls, almost perpendicular, rise to the height of two thousand feet, and, like the Red Canon, are 
 composed of brilliant red sandstone, mottled and rainbow-hued. Occasionally a green cedar or 
 mountain pine is seen clinging to its sides, adding a picturesque beauty to the place. As we de- 
 scended the river, which at this point falls one hundred feet to the mile, the walls rose higher and 
 higher, until at the head of Disaster Falls, fifteen miles further down, they attained an altitude of 
 three thousand feet. Thus shut in by vertical walls, there was no alternative — had we wished it — 
 but to go on. Accordingly on the approach of night we hauled our boats close into the shelving 
 rocks, and prepared to fortify by rest for the running of the most noted and dangerous rapids on the 
 morrow. It was here that, in 1869, Major Powell lost a boat, and nearly her crew. In 1850, a party 
 of six trappers, having accumulated a large quantity of furs at Brown’s Hole, constructed a raft of 
 three ‘ degouts ’ tied together, on which they intended floating down to the Gulf of California. Brave, 
 reckless, and probably not realizing the appalling dangers before them, they sailed down the first few 
 rapids in fine style. When the head of Disaster Falls was reached, instead of landing and recon- 
 noitring, as the roar of the cataract should have advised them to do, they dashed heedlessly along, 
 and were carried over the falls. The raft was, of course, totally wrecked, and lour of the men were 
 drowned. The survivors, one of whom was Jim Bridger, the celebrated trapper and companion of 
 Kit Carson, managed to clamber on to the rocks, and there, inclosed in a living tomb, they spent 
 several weeks, subsisting upon berries, lizards, and snakes, exhausting themselves in efforts to find a 
 way out of the canon ; and, finally, after three months’ wandering, came into an immigrant’s camp, 
 in a famished and almost idiotic condition.” 
 
 Mr. Beaman thus describes a sunrise in the Canon of Lodore: “ It was after the gray of the 
 morning had passed away, and yet before the gates of Aurora had fully opened, that I awoke. The 
 shaggy sides of the canon were yet shadowy and dark, and a light, fleecy cloud of vapor, white as 
 the driven snow, covered the bosom of the river, suspended, yet motionless as the canopy of space 
 into which it was soon to ascend. I thought of ‘ the veil — the silver veil,’ with which the prophet 
 of Khorassan is said to have covered his features, to hide his dazzling brow from the sight oi mortals. 
 Soon the brightening and blushing skies denoted the glorious coming of the sun, and his swift beams 
 began to tinge the peaks of the loftier mountains with golden color, that deepened as the day-god 
 neared the horizon. As the light increased, the vapor in the gulch grew opalescent, and seemed in 
 motion, soft and tenderly agitated as if by the breath of an infant ; then its western edge slowly 
 lifted, and, gradually disclosing the surface of the dark, clear waters, drifted lightly and away until 
 lost in the distant gloom of the eastern hills. A mist, nearly as penetrating as rain, than became 
 apparent and palpable for a brief space, when it broke into billowy masses, and slowly wreathed and 
 curled its way up the canon-walls, lingering in the glens and grottoes far up the mountains, as if 
 reluctant to leave a scene of such witching charm. Now the tops of the mountains began to flame 
 up with volcanic luridness, and in an instant the great radiator rose clearly from its fiery bath, hood- 
 ing every thing with sudden brilliancy and distinctness, and transforming the river at our leet into a 
 stream of molten silver.” 
 
 Four miles below Disaster Falls are the Triplet Falls. They are three in number and distant 
 
GRAND CANON 
 
LUMBERING ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 106 
 
 ,iom each other about a hundred yards. The walls of the canon are here over three thousand feet 
 high, and the scene is extremely impressive and beautiful. Further down we find Dennis’ Cliff, so 
 named after a member of the Powell expedition of 1869, who is supposed to have been killed at this 
 place by Indians. The cliff is nearly four thousand feet high, and at its top ruins have been dis- 
 covered supposed to be those of a Spanish or Indian people. Echo Park is at the junction of the 
 Green and Bear rivers. “ When a gun is discharged at this place,” writes Mr. Beaman, “ total 
 silence follows the report for a moment ; then, with startling suddenness, the echo is heard seem- 
 ingly at a great distance — say five miles to the south, whence it comes back in separate and distinct 
 reverberations, as if leaping from glen to glen. Louder and quicker grows the sound until appar- 
 ently directly opposite, when a full volume of sound is returned ; then once more the echo is heard, 
 like the snapping of a cap, far to the eastward.” 
 
 Split Mountain Canon received its name from Major Powell on account of its remarkable phy- 
 sical features, the river at this point cutting into a mountain some 2,500 feet high, and in places 
 reaching an altitude of 3,500 feet. From the summit there is a fine view of the whole length of the 
 canon extending far into the valley of the Mintah. Near the mouth of this canon are many curious 
 hieroglyphic carvings, representing the elk, deer, buffalo, bearTand various birds, accompanied by 
 other characters evidently illustrative, supposed io be the work of the ancient Aztecs. The Canon 
 of Desolation is noticeable for a dreary waste of sand and rocks as far as the eye can reach. It is 
 followed by Cole’s Canon, the two being together one hundred miles long, and containing one hun- 
 dred and twenty rapids, of which forty are impassable to even the smallest boats. 
 
 But if one wished to enumerate all the scenes on the Colorado from the source of the Green to 
 the outlet of Black Canon, it would require far more space than is now at our command. The points 
 of interest referred to in this sketch are but a small proportion of those that really deserve descrip- 
 tion, while of many hardly any description can be adequate, much less one that is necessarily brief 
 and meagre. To reproduce the beauty and sublimity of many of these scenes is beyond the power 
 of any pen. 
 
 LUMBERING ON THE SUSOUEHANNA. 
 
 T HE Susquehanna River, the pride of Pennsylvania, is formed by the union of its North — 
 sometimes called East — Branch with its West Branch at Northumberland, sixty miles above 
 Harrisburg. Traversing the entire State from north to south, it intersects the rich mining and coal 
 districts for which this section of country is remarkable, and along its banks are well-cultivated 
 fields and prosperous towns. Its picturesque beauty, celebrated in many a poem, is largely due to the 
 numerous islands which so frequently divide the stream, and to the rocky rapids that, at low water, 
 obstruct its navigation. The river is skirted from Harrisburg to Sunbury by the Northern Central 
 Railway, which then follows the bank of the Western Branch as far as Williamsport. Some of the 
 most beautiful of the many lovely views that have made the Erie Railway celebrated above all other 
 routes of travel, are to be obtained while traversing the fifty miles intervening between Cascade 
 Bridge, the point near the border line of New York and Pennsylvania where the track strikes 
 the North Branch of the Susquehanna, and Barton, where it takes its final leave of the river’s 
 sinuosities. 
 
 Had we space, we could without difficulty fill pages with descriptions of the numerous important 
 and interesting towns that lie contiguous to the river. Only four generations have passed away 
 since the reclamation of the lands from the Indians, and yet the landscape, on each side of the 
 river and in every direction, presents to view a scene of peace and of well-cultivated husbandry 
 that more than any other section of this country reminds the traveler of the garden landscapes of 
 England. All the great railroads of the State approach or intersect its waters at one place or an- 
 other, and serve to transport to distant parts — the South, the West, the Metropolis and the Eastern 
 centres — the minerals that are here exhumed from mother earth. All this would form food for many 
 articles, but we are obliged to jealously guard our limited space to the delineation ol the picturesque 
 side of American file. 
 
UP RAFTS ON THE SUSQUEHANNA RIVER. A SCENE ON THE LINE OF THE ERIE RAILROAD 
 
THE HUDSON RIVER. 
 
 iqS 
 
 Timbering furnishes many of the inhabitants that live adjacent to the Susquehanna and its 
 numerous tributaries with an occupation, and as a trade it is not destitute of the chances of adven- 
 ture. If the lumberman be of a philosophic turn of mind, in what speculative reveries may he 
 not indulge, as he adroitly steers his unwieldy flotilla. The plank he treads may support the burly 
 frame of some great English advocate of the rights of the people, or be used in the construction of a 
 desk from which a Bismarck may issue his dictum to the European world. 
 
 The preparations for the trip down the river, though laborious, are often conducted like a frolic. 
 The felling of the trees in mid-winter, the cutting of shingles, and the drawing out on the snow, are 
 employments preferred by the young men to the tamer but less arduous work of the farm-yard ; and 
 in the temporary and uncomfortable shanties, deep in the woods, subsisting often on nothing but 
 pork and whisky, they find metal more attractive than village or fire-side. 
 
 The small streams emptying into the Susquehanna are innumerable ; and eight or ten miles 
 back from the river the arks are built, and the materials of the rafts collected, ready to launch with 
 the first thaw. When the floods come in March, the noise of voices and hammering coming out from 
 the woods above, warn the inhabitants of the villages on tlft river banks of the approach of an ark ; 
 and at the rate of eight or ten miles an hour, the rude structure shoots by the quiet hamlets floating 
 high on the water, manned with a singing and saucy crew, who dodge the branches of the trees, and 
 work their steering-paddles with an adroitness and nonchalance which sufficiently show the character 
 of the class. The numerous sudden bends which the river takes, and from which it derived its name 
 (Crooked River), often puts the steermanship to the test ; and when the leaves are off the trees, it is 
 a curious sight to see the bulky monsters, shining with new boards, whirling around in the swift 
 tddies, and, when caught by the current again, gliding off among the trees, like a singing and swear- 
 ing phantom of an unfinished barn. 
 
 It is a fact not generally known that when a river is rising, the middle is the highest, and vice 
 versa when falling — sufficiently proved by the experience of the raftsmen, who, if they start before 
 the flow is at its top, cannot keep their crafts from the shore. A pent-house, barely sufficient for a 
 man to stretch himself below, is raised on the deck, with a fire-place of earth and loose stone ; and 
 with what provision they can afford, and plenty of whisky, they shove out into the stream. Thence- 
 forward it is vogue la galere ! They have nothing to do all day but abandon themselves to the cur- 
 rent, sing and dance, and take the turn at the steering-oars ; and when the sun sets, they look out 
 for an eddy, and pull in to the shore. The stopping-places are not very numerous, and are well 
 known to all who follow the trade ; and as the river sw’arms with rafts, the getting to land and mak- 
 ing sure of a fastening, is a scene always of great competition. When all is settled for the night, 
 however, and the fires are lit on the long range of the flotilla, the raftsmen get together over their 
 whisky and provender, and tell the thousand stories of their escapes and accidents ; and with the 
 repetition of this, night after night, the whole rafting population along the five hundred miles of the 
 Susquehanna become partially acquainted, and form a sympathetic corps. 
 
 THE HUDSON RIVER. 
 
 ' B ''HERE is no river that is so intimately associated with our history and literature as the North 
 X or Hudson. Many of the most important events of the eight years of Revolution transpired 
 in its vicinity. Irving and Paulding found rich subjects for their pens in its traditions and legendary 
 lore, and a host of the minor poets have sung in enthusiastic rhyme of its placid bosom and beauti- 
 ful banks. 
 
 Independently of all this, however, the river has charms that one need not be versed in history 
 to enjoy, beauties so pre-eminent that they touched the hearts of the practical Dutch navigators, and 
 caused Hendrick Hudson’s secretary to write of it as a “ fair river flowing through a goodly coun- 
 try.” The hazy outlines of the hills limned against the blue sky, the prosperous fields stretching 
 away from the banks as far as eye can reach, the bold promontories that rise up from the water as 
 if to contest the right of passage, and the sudden bends where the river seems almost shut in by the 
 tree-covered hills, — all these combine to form a grand natural panorama ; and while admiring a scene 
 
THE HUDSON RIVER. 
 
 109 
 
 so beautiful that it seems as if all the combinations of Nature could not produce one more lovely, 
 we glide by another in which the blue outlines of the hills seem softer, the rich verdure greener, 
 and the gleam of the crystal current more silvery. The western water-courses do not compare 
 with it : with their strong, muddy currents, and monotonous banks and outlines, they are, indeed, 
 equally serviceable for navigation, but they utterly lack the graceful flow and air of peace and quiet 
 that distinguish the placid Hudson. 
 
 At New York the river possesses the advantage of sudden contrast. It is but a short journey 
 from the crowded docks of the North River, as the Hudson as it flows by the city is called, to scenes 
 of rural life. Almost before we are aware of it, we have passed the wharves in which lie the great 
 ocean steamers, and have left the crowded, ferry-boats and ugly flatboats, with their escorts the noisy 
 tugs, far behind ; but hardly is the uproar and bustle of the city lost in the distance, than before 
 the passengers of the magnificent steamers that ply the Hudson lie the pastoral beauties of the 
 American Rhine. Intermixed with superb villas, the creations of modern wealth, which peep from 
 amid the foliage on Washington Heights, one sees here and there a squarely-built mansion that in 
 its pristine glory belonged to one of the early settlers ; and the yachts and sail-boats, frequently con- 
 taining fair occupants, lend an additional charm to a dolce far niente scene like which there is no 
 other on this continent. 
 
 The Hudson River Railroad skirts the river on the eastern side, and frequently as -the river-boats 
 steam quickly onward on the breast of the incoming tide, one is tempted to believe that the boat 
 can hold its own against its competitor. But the iron-horse rolls forward with a loud reverberation on 
 the river’s edge, and gradually gains until a station stops its victorious progress. The delay thus occa- 
 sioned enables the steamboat to recover its lost ground for a time ; but it is again overtaken and, from the 
 same cause, again gets ahead. At last, however, either the steamer has to make a landing, or a greater 
 distance intervenes between the stations, and the train slowly and gradually disappears in the distance. 
 
 A point that already approaches historic interest is Font Hill, a mile and a half below Yonkers, 
 built by the late Edwin Forrest. Although a thorough American, the great tragedian had a decided 
 fondness for the luxuries of life, and especially admired structures that implied the long possession 
 of wealth. On returning from an English trip, he began the erection of Font Hill. It was built of 
 blue granite, after the plan of an English castle, and has six towers, from which an extensive view 
 of the Hudson may be obtained. In 1838 he took possession, and continued to reside in it until 
 his next visit to England in 1844. The jealousy between Macready and Forrest had by this time 
 culminated in an open quarrel, that became national at least* so far as the dramatic world was con- 
 cerned. Coming home with a heart full of bitterness, and fearing the accusation that he was aping 
 the English nobility, Forrest sold his “castle” to the Roman Catholic Sisters of Charity of the Con- 
 vent of Mount St. Vincent, who erected other buildings and use the whole of them as a school. 
 
 A little above Font Hill is Yonkers, a large and thriving village, about seventeen miles above the 
 metropolis, where many wealthy New Yorkers have located since the increase of railway communica- 
 tion. The country round about is hilly and picturesque. Broad carriage-roads lead from it in 
 nearly all directions, and there are facilities for every variety of sport — boating, fishing, or shoot- 
 ing. The celebrated Philipse Manor Hall is located at Yonkers, and is still kept in good order. 
 It was originally built in 1682, and an addition was made to it in 1745. The building was 
 constructed after a liberal plan. The 
 apartments are all wainscoated, and the 
 ceilings lofty, while the principal cham- 
 ber is frescoed with figures. In this 
 house was born Mary Philipse, whose 
 beauty and prospective wealth capti- 
 vated Washington when he was a young 
 man. The future Commander-in-Chief 
 lingered in her presence as long as eti- 
 quette and his duties would allow, but 
 his exceeding diffidence prevented him 
 from making known to her his passion, 
 and she became engaged to a fellow- 
 officer, named Morris. When the Revo- 
 lution broke out, Morris refused to side The Palisades. 
 
I IO 
 
 THE HUDSON RIVER. 
 
 with the colonists. In the fall of 
 1776, Washington occupied the house 
 so intimately connected with the ro- 
 mance of his youth as his military 
 headquarters. 
 
 Four miles above Yonkers, at Hast- 
 ings, are the most picturesque por- 
 tions of the “ Palisades.” The Pali- 
 sades extend along the western shore 
 of the Hudson from Haverstraw al- 
 most to Hoboken, and are about thirty- 
 five miles in length. They are por- 
 tions of a ridge-rock of trap-rocks, and 
 derive their name from the kind of 
 fortification which they resemble. 
 “ Between Piedmont and Hoboken, 
 these rocks present, for a considerable distance, an uninterrupted, rude, columnar front, from three 
 to five hundred feet in height. They form a mural escarpment, columnar in appearance, yet not 
 actually so in form. They have a steep slope of debris, which has been crumbling from the ridge 
 above during long centuries, through the action of frost and the elements. This ridge is narrow, 
 being, in some places, not more than three-quarters of a mile in width. It is really an enormous, 
 projecting dyke-trap. On the top and among the debris, in many places, is a thin growth of trees.” 
 From the river the aspect of the Palisades is not very inviting. They have a grim, and somewhat 
 forbidding appearance, but now and then one can catch, through occasional breaks in the ridge, 
 glimpses of the beautiful country behind. The highest point of the Palisades is nearly opposite 
 Sing Sing, and rises 666 feet above tide-water. The Hollanders called it by the startling name of 
 Verdrietigh-Hoeck, which being translated, means “Vexatious Point.” It obtained its name from 
 the fact that at this place they were apt to meet with adverse winds, that crossed each other, and 
 made the management of their lumbering vessels very difficult. 
 
 Dobbs’ Ferry, five miles above Yonkers, was an important point during the Revolution. Several 
 of the prominent movements in the Hudson River campaign took place there. Upon a high bank 
 near the railway station, the Americans built fortifications at the beginning of the conflict, and held 
 the place until their defeat by Lord Cornwallis, in October, 1776. Haverstraw, the place where 
 Arnold and Andre met, is but a short distance from this place. 
 
 Sunnyside, the former residence of Washington Irving, is further up the river, about three miles 
 below Tarrytown. Around this place, of which Irving wrote so gracefully, must ever cling the 
 pleasantest of memories. It is reached from the main road by a winding carriage-way that passes 
 through green meadows and shady woodlands, and along the border of a little vale, through which 
 runs a sparkling streamlet that ripples down toward the Hudson until it empties into a little bay a 
 few yards from Sunnyside. Irving’s house was a quaint, old-fashioned cottage, half overrun with 
 ivy, while from the eastern window the river could be seen for a long distance. F'rom a description 
 of the place by Mr. Lossing we extract the following : 
 
 “ I visited Sunnyside and strolled along the brook at the mouth of the glen, where it comes down 
 in cascades before entering the once beautiful little bay, now cut off from free union with the river 
 by the railway. The channel was full of crystal water. The delicate foliage was casting delicate 
 shadows where, at this time, there is half twilight under the umbrageous branches, and the trees are 
 full of warblers. It is a charming spot, and is consecrated by many memories of Irving and his 
 friends, who frequented this romantic little dell when the sun was at its meridian After a while, I 
 climbed its banks, crossed the lane, and wandered along a shaded path to a hollow in the hills filled 
 with water. This pond, which Mr. Irving called the ‘ Mediterranean Sea,’ was made by damming 
 the stream, and thus a pretty cascade at its outlet was formed. It is in the shape of a ‘palm-leaf 
 that comes from the loom. On one side a wooded hill stretches down to it abruptly, leaving only 
 space enough for a path, and on others it washes the feet of gently grassy slopes. This is one ot 
 the many charming pictures to be found at Sunnyside.” 
 
 Mr. Irving died in November, 1859, and was buried in the family burying ground at Tarrytow* 
 His funeral was one of the largest ever known, and was attended by all the literary men of the da 
 and many other distinguished persons. 
 
 Stony Point. 
 
THE HUDSON RIVER. 
 
 1 1 1 
 
 Near Tarrytown is the famous “ Sleepy Hollow.” A stream of water runs through it, which was 
 called by the Indians Pocantecs, signifying a run between two hills. There is an old Dutch church 
 and churchyard at its opening, built in 1690, of brick and stone — the brick being brought over from 
 Holland for the purpose — which would delight an antiquarian. The expenses of its erection were 
 defrayed by F'rederic Phillips. Over its diminutive spire there is a vane in which is cut the mono- 
 gram of its founder, and in the tower hangs the old bell, bearing the inscription in Latin : “ If 
 God be for us, who can be against us ? ” 
 
 Sing Sing is a prosperous village containing about five thousand inhabitants. It is built upon a 
 slope of hills about one hundred and eighty feet above the Hudson, and overlooks Tappan Bay a 
 widening of the river which the early Dutch settlers called a sea. In the upper portion of Sing Sing 
 there is a ravine yet retaining much of the wild and picturesque scenery that must have characterized 
 this section of country before the advent of civilization. Over it flows the Croton river which 
 supplies the city of New York with water. Its channel is of massive masonry lying upon an ellip- 
 tical arch of hewn granite of eighty-five feet span, its keystone being more than seventy feet from 
 the waters of the brook under it. The Croton Aqueduct was a most important improvement, the 
 water of the city having been exceedingly impure and unhealthy. There was, notwithstanding, 
 when the project was first agitated, considerable opposition to passing the appropriation necessary 
 for its construction. Work was begun on the aqueduct in May, 1837, anc ^ progressed rapidly. At the 
 head of the aqueduct a dam was constructed for the purpose of forming a fountain reservoir. “ In 
 the early part of 1841 a flood produced by a protracted rain-storm and melting snows, swept away 
 the dam and carried with it, riverward, a quantity of earth and gravel, sufficient to half fill the beauti- 
 ful Croton Bay. The dam was immediately rebuilt, at a greater altitude, and a lake was produced, 
 almost six miles in length, capable of containing about 500,000,000 gallons of water. It is 166 feet 
 above mean tide-water at New York, and pours into the aqueduct from 40,000,000 to 50,000,000 
 
 Entrance to the Highlands near Newburgh. 
 
I 12 
 
 THE HUDSON RIVER. 
 
 gallons every twenty-four hours. The Croton Aqueduct runs parallel with the Hudson, at the mean 
 distance of half a mile from it throughout its entire length. Its course is marked by culverts and 
 arches of solid masonry, and its line may be observed at a distance by white stone towers, about 
 fifteen feet in height, placed at intervals of a mile. These are ventilators of the aqueduct ; some 
 of them are quite ornamental, while others are simple, round towers, and every third one has a 
 
 square base, with a door by which 
 a person may enter the aqueduct.” 
 This great work was finished in 
 1842, in the autumn of that year. 
 The cost of its erection was about 
 $12,000,000. 
 
 The State Prison is also 
 situated, as is well known, at 
 Sing Sing. It is in the southern 
 part on a group of small hills 
 known as Mount Pleasant. The 
 prison is divided into male and 
 female departments, and both were 
 built by convicts. The modern 
 prison system has been adopted 
 here, and the prisoners are com- 
 pelled to work at various trades 
 instead of being placed in solitary 
 confinement. 
 
 Some distance above Sing 
 Sing is Stony Point, a mass of 
 granite rocks, with occasional 
 patches of ever-green trees and 
 hardy shrubbery. The barrenness 
 of Stony Point makes it unavail- 
 able for agricultural purposes, and 
 the landscape here is almost the 
 same as when the Continentals 
 and British were marching and 
 countermarching over its rocky 
 surface. It is in the form of a 
 peninsula. A light-house, a keep- 
 er's lodge, and a fog-bell stand 
 upon the spot formerly occupied 
 by the old fort. 
 
 To describe in detail the nu- 
 merous points of interest along the 
 Hudson would not only be weari- 
 some, but would require much 
 more space than can be devoted 
 to it here. The entrance to the 
 Highlands, Peekskill, Anthony’s 
 Nose, the Storm King, Constitu- 
 tion Island, West Point, and many 
 other places, are remarkable alike for their extraordinary natural beauty and for their intimate asso- 
 ciation with our early history. 
 
 At the mouth of Wappingi’s Creek, there is a promontory covered with gravel, from which a fine 
 view of the Highlands and the town of Newburgh may be obtained. Newburgh is the oldest settle- 
 ment in Orange county, and many historical associations are clustered around it. The first settle- 
 ment was made by Palatines, who began to erect buildings on the site of the present town in 1709. 
 After the lapse of a few years, the inhabitants became discontented with the spot, divided up, and 
 
THE HUDSON RIVER . 
 
 ”3 
 
 went to different localities. Other settlers supplied their places, however, and the town flourished. 
 The “ Hasbrouck House,” one of the numerous “ Washington Headquarters,” is at this place. It is 
 now the property of the State, and a sum of money is annually appropriated to keep it in good con- 
 dition. It contains a considerable collection of relics of the wars of the country. 
 
 The natural scenery in the vicin- 
 ity of Newburgh is considered by 
 many the grandest on the river. “Be- 
 fore the town is the lofty range of 
 the Fishkill Mountains, on which 
 signal-fires were lighted during the 
 Revolution : and the group of the 
 Highlands, through which the Hud- 
 son flows. These are reflected in a 
 broad and beautiful bay, at all times 
 animated with a variety of watercraft 
 and wild fowl. One of the finest and 
 most comprehensive views of New- 
 burgh Bay may be obtained from the 
 hill, just below Newburgh and Fish- 
 kill railway station, looking south- 
 west. At Newburgh is the eastern 
 terminus of a branch of the New 
 York and Erie Railway, which passes 
 through some very picturesque scen- 
 ery.” 
 
 Poughkeepsie is one of the most 
 beautiful and thriving cities in the 
 State. It is charmingly situated on 
 the eastern bank of the Hudson 
 River, on a high level plateau over- 
 looking the country along the river 
 from the Catskills to the Highlands, 
 and has a population of twenty-five 
 thousand inhabitants, among whom 
 are a large number of distinguished 
 professional and literary gentlemen 
 and many eminent retired merchants. 
 
 It was first settled by the Dutch to- 
 ward the close of the seventeenth 
 century. The building erected by 
 Baltus Van Kleek, in the year 1705, 
 remained standing until 1835. Pough- 
 keepsie is famous for her schools, 
 having eighteen private institu- 
 tions of learning. Among these are 
 the celebrated Vassar Female Col- 
 lege and the Eastman Business Col- 
 lege. The Great Bridge to span 
 the river here for a direct East and 
 West Railroad line will be a mag- 
 nificent structure. To the enterprise 
 and foresight of Mr. Eastman is due 
 the inception of the bridge idea. When this great work of internal improvement is finished, a com- 
 plete revolution will be effected in the transportation of the products of the great manufacturing 
 centres of the East and the mineral regions of Pennsylvania. These can be exchanged without the 
 necessity of the roundabout and expensive journey by way of New York. 
 
 Proposed Bridge across the Hudson at Poughkeepsie. 
 
THE HUDSON RIVER. 
 
 1 14 
 
 About six miles below Hudson, is Oak Hill Station, opposite the mouth of the Catskill river, a 
 stream which flows down from the hills of Schoharie, a distance of nearly forty miles. The scenery 
 in the Catskills is very beautiful. At every turn of the road leading to the mountains, which skirts 
 the margin of a clear stream that is heard oftener than it is seen, the traveler encounters some new 
 scene of loveliness. The mountains rise up abruptly from the plain, dark and solemn, casting their 
 shadows below. The road is very winding, “ and in its ascent along the side of the glen, or more 
 properly magnificent gorge, it is so enclosed by the towering hills on one side, and the lofty trees 
 
 that shoot up on the other, 
 that little can be seen be- 
 yond a few rods, except 
 the sky above, or glimpses 
 of some distant , summit, 
 until the pleasant nook in 
 the mountain is reached, 
 wherein the cabin of Rip 
 Van Winkle is nestled. 
 After that the course of the 
 road is more nearly parallel 
 with the river and the plain, 
 and through frequent vistas 
 glimpses may be caught of 
 the country below, that 
 charm the eye, excite the 
 fancy and the imagination, 
 and make the heart throb 
 quicker and stronger with 
 pleasurable emotions.” Ir- 
 ving’s descriptions and his 
 version of the legend of 
 “ Rip Van Winkle,” have 
 made the Catskills famous. 
 The cabin which is said to 
 have been occupied by the 
 somnolent Rip, is still stand- 
 ing. The scenery through 
 the mountains is majestic 
 and inspiring. The “ Moun- 
 tain House ” is built upon 
 a grand rock-platform near- 
 ly three thousand feet above 
 tide-water, a considerable 
 distance below some of the 
 higher summits, it is true, 
 but yet portions of four 
 States and ten thousand 
 square miles of territory 
 may be seen from it. From 
 the top of the South Moun- 
 tain, three hundred feet 
 above the “ Mountain House,” and of the North Mountain, which is further off and higher, even a 
 more extensive view may be obtained. All through the mountains there are bits of scenery which 
 form the delight of artists. Sunset Rock, an illustration of which is given, is a lovely and pic- 
 turesque scene. At evening, when the tops of the trees are gilded by the radiance of the setting 
 sun, whose red gleam shines through the clouds, giving the sky the appearance of a mingled 
 column of fire and smoke, the beauty of the rock is of so rare a type, that the most practical of men 
 could hardly have failed to give it its present name. 
 
THE GREAT LAKES AND THEIR GREAT CITIES. 
 
 1 15 
 
 Above this point, as is well known, the magnificent and sublime scenery that has marked the 
 course of the Hudson nearly from its mouth, gives place to a landscape, graceful and picturesque 
 indeed, but utterly wanting the bold and imposing aspects characteristic of the lower portion of 
 the river. The great cities of Albany and Troy are situated on it. The river is formed by two 
 small streams flowing from the Adirondack Mountains, one rising in Hamilton, and the other in 
 Essex County, New York, which unite in Warren County, about forty miles from the source of each. 
 There is some very picturesque scenery near the source of the river, but as we have so fully illus- 
 trated and devoted so much space to the Adirondacks, we think a further description unnecessary. 
 
 THE GREAT LAKES AND THEIR GREAT 
 
 CITIES. 
 
 C OMPARATIVELY little is known by Americans of the group of great inland seas — 
 Ontario, Erie, Huron, Superior, and Michigan — which form our northern frontier. Their 
 position being far to the north of the line of western travel is one reason for this ignorance and 
 indifference, and the absolute supremacy of railways in the matter of passenger transportation is 
 another ; but the beauty of their surroundings and their singularity as the only great fresh-water 
 lakes in the world, should have recommended them to the notice of a larger number of tourists. 
 The popular “ route through the lakes” is from Buffalo to some of the cities on Lake Michigan in 
 a steamer. There are five great inland ports on the lakes — Buffalo, Cleveland, Detroit, Milwaukee, 
 and Chicago — and these cities owe their prosperity, nay their very existence, to their being the 
 
 Main Street, Buffalo, opposite the Churches. 
 
 entrepots and distributing centres for the immense freight traffic carried on on the bosom of these 
 great bodies of water. 
 
 Buffalo is situated in the north-eastern corner of New York State on Lake Erie. A mere village 
 before the completion of the Erie canal, it has since grown with almost magical rapidity, and is now 
 one of the most prosperous and beautiful cities in America. As is the case with almost all of the 
 lake ports, the trees have been carefully preserved, and the long shaded avenues give it a most pic- 
 turesque appearance. Two, and sometimes three, rows of elms and other deciduous trees line 
 either side of many of the streets, and to a stranger accustomed to the long and dusty brick pave- 
 ments that characterize the business avenues of most American cities, their effect is both novel and 
 
THE GREAT LAKES AND THEIR GREAT CITIES. 
 
 pleasing. Main street, as its name indicates, is the prin- 
 cipal thoroughfare and centre of the retail trade, and the 
 marked beauty of its church edifices diverts attention 
 from the stately blocks devoted to the service of mam- 
 mon. St. Paul’s Cathedral (Episcopalian) is the architec- 
 tural ornament of the city. Its spire, of solid freestone, 
 almost as high as that of Trinity Church, New York, con- 
 tains a fine set of chimes, which are rung by the only 
 trained band of chime-ringers in the country. Near it is 
 the First Presbyterian Church, a modest structure over- 
 run with ivy, while but a short distance away lies St. 
 Joseph’s Cathedral, which boasts of possessing, with but 
 one exception, the finest chimes in the world. They were 
 purchased at the French World’s Fair, but, through ignor- 
 ance, were so badly hung that much of their effect is 
 lost. 
 
 Delaware, Niagara, Court and Genesee, four streets 
 that cross each other at different angles, are noted for 
 their magnificent residences. A superb system of parks 
 designed by Frederick Faw Olmsted, the architect of 
 Central Park, New York city, is now in course of con- 
 struction, which, when completed, will add very much to 
 the attractiveness of the city. The land taken for park 
 purposes was formerly a common, and consists in all of 
 about five hundred acres, situated in the eastern, north- 
 ern, and western parts. It is proposed to connect these 
 by a boulevard that will run entirely around the upper 
 portion of the city, and thus form a continuous drive of 
 nearly ten miles. 
 
 Fort Porter has hitherto been the pleasure-ground of 
 the city. There is nothing in the fort itself deserving of 
 special mention, but the view from it is superb. Toward 
 Fake Erie are the spires, elevators, and docks of Buffalo, 
 with the long pier on which the new light-house is situated ; 
 beyond is the new breakwater, with its light, reduced by the 
 distance to a mere line drawn across the water : but the 
 centre of attraction in this beautiful landscape is the lake 
 itself in its ever-varying aspects, with its long lines of foam- 
 tipped waves now glistening with blinding brilliancy in the 
 light of the sun, or under the influence of a calm presenting 
 those soft tints of green for which the lakes are remarkable, 
 or again, under the gathering shadows of night, lying dark, 
 ■gloomy, and saturnine. To the right is seen the Canadian 
 shore, and a dark patch of gray locates the ruins of Fort 
 Erie. Further on is the town of Victoria or Waterloo as 
 it is variously called, and down the Niagara river the new 
 International Bridge projects from shore to shore. 
 
 One of the finest and most comprehensive views of 
 Buffalo is the one from the lake, an illustration of which is 
 given. Directly in front, and stretching away oft to the 
 right of us, we see a long pier or breakwater, erected at 
 immense cost, and still incomplete, which protects the 
 front of the city from the treacherous waves of the lake, 
 and forms a wide and spacious harbor, in which a navy 
 might ride. On the nearer end behold one of those eyes, 
 whose glances, scintillating afar, have so often at night 
 
THE GREAT LAKES AND THEIR GREAT CITIES. 
 
 1 1 7 
 
 proved a blessing and a comfort to the storm-tossed mariner ; 
 for this calm, pleasant-looking sheet of water, which is now a 
 mirror, reflecting the white, fleecy clouds floating far above it, 
 can get up, without the slightest apparent effort, storms of the 
 most appalling character. Beyond, on an inner pier, projecting 
 boldly from the mouth of the creek, is another beacon, which 
 guides us directly to the haven we seek. In front of the entire 
 city stretches a sea-wall, behind which, on the right, are shel- 
 tered the immense many-shaped and dingy-brown elevators 
 which betoken the source of the city’s business and wealth ; 
 and on the left, the depots, trestles, manufactories and other 
 adjuncts of trade and commerce. The background is made up 
 of massive business structures and private residences, peeping 
 above the trees ; while the numerous graceful spires rising 
 majestically heavenwards exhibit the good taste with which the 
 city’s accumulated wealth has been spent. 
 
 We embark from Buffalo in one of the numerous steamers 
 that ply the lakes, and, once upon Lake Erie, the first thing that 
 strikes the voyager is the turbidity of its waters, especially near 
 the shores, arising from the shallowness of the lake. For the benefit of those of our readers who 
 may not happen to be statisticians, we may say that Lake Erie, which has a mean length of about 
 two hundred and forty miles, and a breadth ranging from thirty to sixty miles, rarely exceeds, and 
 then only in exceptional places, one hundred and twenty feet in depth. It is to this shallowness that 
 the severity of the storms that visit this lake are attributed, and the paucity of good harbors render 
 them the more dangerous. The only historical fact of interest connected with the lake is the naval 
 battle fought upon its waters, September io, 1813, in which Lieutenant Perry, with a squadron mount- 
 ing but 54 guns, manned by 490 officers and men, vanquished the British under Captain Barclay, 
 who had 63 guns, and 502 officers and men. The whole of the English squadron was captured, and 
 the victory was thus modestly and concisely epitomized by Perry, who, when success was certain, 
 wrote to General Harrison on the back of an old letter resting in his naval cap : “ We have met the 
 enemy, and they are ours — two ships, two brigs, one schooner, and one sloop.” 
 
 To the lover of the picturesque there is much of interest in the islands of Lake Erie, ten or more 
 in number, which lie off Sandusky Bay, having an area varying from 2,800 acres to a mere dot upon 
 the water. These islands are now coming into prominence owing to their adaptability for grape 
 culture. The large steamers on the way up and down the lakes generally pass them in the night, 
 and thus, in order to see them, one must take one of the numerous small craft that ply between 
 Sandusky and the islands. Put-in-Bay Island has gained considerable reputation as a summer resort. 
 It has six hundred inhabitants and two large hotels. Kelley’s Island, the largest of the group, pos- 
 sesses, in addition to its vineyards, valuable quarries of limestone, which supply the furnaces of the 
 vicinity with lime and flux stone. 
 
 The second large port on the lakes is Cleveland, more poetically known as the “ Forest City.” 
 The principal industry of Cleveland is oil-refining, and the refineries of the city have a capacity for 
 stilling fifteen thousand barrels a day. The trade is very profitable, but there is an unusual amount 
 of risk incurred, the danger from fire and explosion being very great. The crude petroleum is 
 brought from the oil-regions of Pennsylvania in long trains of cylinder-shaped cars, that have the 
 appearance of boilers on wheels. It is drawn from the cars to a huge tank through long ranges of 
 pipes, and is there kept until required for use at the stills. The architecture of the city gives out- 
 ward evidence of its prosperity. It would be difficult to find, outside of New York city, an Amer- 
 ican street as beautiful as Euclid Avenue. It is lined for a distance of three miles with large 
 and costly mansions, erected in the middle of extensive grounds ; and the smooth green lawns, 
 the conservatories, and the noble trees lining the sidewalks, give it an appearance of wealth and 
 refinement. 
 
 From Cleveland the lake steamers bound for Lakes Huron and Superior, pass Detroit, the 
 “ City of Straits.” Detroit produces a highly pleasing impression upon the traveler. Though it is 
 said to be one of the oldest towns in the country, it looks fresh, bright and modern. The streets 
 are wide, the squares numerous, and the houses in the business portion of the city lofty and 
 
 Buffalo Creek, looking out. 
 
1 18 
 
 THE GREAT LAKES AND THEIR GREAT CITIES. 
 
 handsome, while the up-town parts of the leading avenues are bordered with handsome private 
 residences, the majority of which are in cosy and shady gardens. There are few American towns 
 
 where trees 
 you see 
 
 and shrubbery are more plentiful. The moment you leave the business quarter 
 all around, which the abundant vapors of the two lakes and the Detroit river 
 
 keep in luxuriant condition. One can, of course, not 
 look for picturesque elements in or about Detroit, the 
 country being flat and full of monotony, relieved only 
 by the large expanses of water. But there is something 
 winningly neat and intensely patriarchal in the little 
 wooden cottages, growing like mushrooms, and pushing 
 the outskirts of the town further and further out into 
 the country. Nearly all of them are painted white, have 
 brightly colored roofs, and a piece of ground planted 
 with shrubs and flowers, the general picture thus ob- 
 taining a bright and shiny touch not frequently to be 
 beheld in more go-ahead communities of this part of 
 the world. 
 
 After Detroit comes Milwaukee, Chicago’s most 
 dangerous rival. Milwaukee is the eastern outlet for 
 the great grain crops of Wisconsin. It has the best 
 harbor on Lake Michigan, and since the Chicago fire it 
 has taken its position as a leading inland port. There 
 was not in the year 1834 a sufficient number of white 
 inhabitants in Milwaukee county to fill the offices neces- 
 sary for its organization : to-day its county-seat has a 
 population of more than one hundred thousand, and its 
 beautiful bay, with its immense and costly breakwater, 
 bears upon its breast a commerce represented by eight 
 thousand arrivals of vessels every year. In grace of 
 curvature, beauty of color, and the boldness of its bluffs, 
 it compares favorably with the finest sheets of water 
 in the world, and is thought to resemble the Bay of 
 Naples. 
 
 Milwaukee is the largest grain market in the world, 
 and the transactions of its Chamber of Commerce 
 amount to over a hundred million dollars a year. The 
 elevators, therefore, are an essential element of the 
 city’s prosperity. Our river illustration shows, in the 
 fore-ground, the oldest elevator in the northwest, a 
 structure as antiquated in its appliances as in appear- 
 ance, but yet substantial enough for years of further 
 service. The shipping and manufacture of iron is also 
 an important interest and one which will, in all probabil- 
 ity, grow so rapidly in the future as to rival the immense 
 business in cereals and produce — the product of the 
 rich and almost untouched mineral regions of the north- 
 west coming naturally to Milwaukee, where it finds a 
 home market, and whence ten tributary railroads carry it 
 to other manufacturing centres. The brewing interest 
 is also largely represented, and so celebrated is its lager 
 beer that it commands the highest price the country over. 
 The natural attractions of Milwaukee are numerous. 
 Lake Michigan stretches out as broad and blue and beautiful as the sea, and washes upon the beach 
 waters of perfect purity. The river above the city is a shady sylvan stream. The high bluffs at 
 the lake shore sink to the river and rise again on the west side, affording charming atmospheric 
 effects and vistas of climbing buildings. The city is principally built of white brick, from which it 
 
THE GREAT LAKES AND THEIR GREAT CITIES. 
 
 119 
 
 derives its title of the Cream City. The country round about is fertile and varied, and full of 
 pleasant rambles. 
 
 The Milwaukee river has nowhere a width exceeding three hundred feet, but it is deep enough for 
 the passage of the largest vessels. It is spanned by drawbridges at about every second street, and 
 passes through the city like a great canal. With its tributaries, the Menomonee and Kinnikinnick, 
 and its extensive system of side cuts, it affords over thirty miles of dockage within the city limits. 
 Spars and sails are seen passing between stately buildings with an effect as curious as would be the 
 spectacle of a ship crossing Broadway at Grand Street. The swinging of the bridges is a momen- 
 tarily recurring excitement, and one not soothing to the temper. 
 
 The population of Milwaukee is made up of different nationalities. The great body of the inhab- 
 itants are Germans ; but Bohemia, Poland, Denmark, Sweden, Ireland, and many other countries 
 are strongly represented. To this confusion of nationalities is due the retention of customs which 
 are usually abandoned by immigrants in their new home. Wooden shoes are seen on the streets ; 
 women wear red stockings and surround their heads with white cloths after the fashion of the Ger- 
 man peasants ; and wedding parties are sometimes seen on Sunday, walking the streets decked with 
 ribbons and flowers. 
 
 From Milwaukee to the Garden City is but a few hours’ pleasant sail, and on our way we meet 
 the long train of heavily laden boats bearing the rich products of the West for Eastern and 
 European markets. Chicago presents the most extraordinary example of rapid and, until the fire, 
 uninterrupted progress of any city in this, or any other country, and to it there exists no parallel in 
 
 Milwaukee River. 
 
 ancient or modern times. There are men now living who recollect the site of the present city as a 
 wet prairie, and in 1830 there were but seventy inhabitants. When, as has been eloquently said, it 
 is remembered that this insignificant nucleus has grown within one generation to over four hundred 
 and fifty thousand, the present local estimate of the city’s population, the question presses for solu- 
 tion — by what magic has this marvelous result been achieved ? What peculiar combination of forces 
 or circumstances has wrought a progress so wonderful and so entirely unparalleled ? 
 
 The story of the settlement of Chicago is thus told in Appleton’s American Encyclopedia : 
 “Under them (the canal commissioners of the Illinois and Michigan canal) James Thompson sur- 
 veyed the town of Chicago, his first map being dated August 4, 1830; it embraced the area of three- 
 eighths of a square mile. In 1831, it contained twelve families, besides the garrison in Fort Dear- 
 born. The town of Chicago was organized August 10, 1833, with five trustees ; it contained 560 
 acres, 550 inhabitants, 29 voters, 175 buildings, and property valued at $60,000; the taxable valua- 
 tion was $19,560, and the first year’s taxes were $48.90. On September 26, 1833, 7,000 Pottawatta- 
 mies assembled there in council, and signed a treaty to remove beyond the Mississippi ; they ceded 
 some 20,000,000 acres to the United States for $1,100,000. Chicago was incorporated as a city 
 March 4, 1837. The first election under the charter was held May 1 following, when W. B. Ogden 
 was chosen mayor. The first census was taken July 1, 1837, when the city contained a population 
 of 4,170’ It was no b however, until 1845 that the city became the entrepot of the immense grain- 
 producing country in the interior. It is well known that the early settlers always chose as their 
 
I 20 
 
 THE GREA T LAKES AND THEIR GREA T CITIES. 
 
 abiding place a suitable loca- 
 tion on some river, whence 
 their products could be floated 
 to market ; and as the means 
 of communication which now 
 make Chicago the Emporium 
 of the West are wholly, as 
 regards communication with 
 the interior, artificial, it is 
 plain that for many years she 
 labored under many disadvan- 
 tages. But civilization ad- 
 vanced with rapid strides and 
 claimed as her own the fertile 
 prairies of Illinois, so that 
 when the pioneers of the net- 
 work of railroads that now 
 intersect the State were built, 
 the great commercial position 
 of Chicago became evident. 
 A new era dawned on the 
 city, and in 1845 the shipments 
 of wheat eastward, which only 
 o commenced in 1842, amount- 
 S ed to 1,000,000 bushels, and 
 O rapidly increased until in 
 a 1866, they reached 65,000,000 
 
 « bushels ! 
 
 © 
 
 ~ The buildings, and parti- 
 | cularly the residences, before 
 £ the fire, were to a great ex- 
 .5 tent constructed of wood, 
 
 a 
 
 $ which was one cause of the 
 conflagration. This terrible 
 calamity must be so fresh to 
 the minds of all our readers 
 that it is hardly necessary to 
 dwell upon it here ; but as 
 this volume will probably find 
 its way to many country read- 
 ers to whom statistics are not 
 always accessible, we subjoin 
 a few facts and figures. “ The 
 total area burnt over, includ- 
 ing streets, was 2,100 acres, 
 or nearly 3-$- square miles ; 
 number of buildings destroyed 
 17,450; persons rendered 
 homeless, 98,500 ; killed, about 
 200. Among the buildings 
 were the court-house, custom- 
 house, and post-office, cham- 
 ber of commerce, gas works, 
 three railroad depots, nine 
 daily newspaper offices, thirty- 
 two hotels, ten theatres and 
 
THE GREAT LAKES AND THETR GREAT CITIES \ 
 
 I 2 I 
 
 nails, eight public schools and several branches, forty-one churches, five elevators containing 
 1,642,000 bushels of grain, and all the national banks but one.” The loss occasioned by the fire 
 amounted in round figures to $200,000,000, of which one-half was covered by insurance ; but owing 
 to the failure of all the local insurance companies, and many companies in other cities, a considerable 
 portion of this amount was not collectable. 
 
 Scarcely a trace now exists of this terrible conflagration, which may be called the most tragic 
 event of modern times. The great fire in Boston swept out of existence property which, in point of 
 mere money value, might compare with, if not rival, Chicago’s terrible loss. But in Boston it was 
 only a loss of business property and merchandise, which, in most instances, was experienced by 
 those who possessed, or had the means of getting, much more ; whereas among the sufferers in 
 Chicago were thousands of clerks and mechanics who had devoted their whole lives to the accumula- 
 tion of their little property, and who not only lost their all, but, for the time at least, having nothing 
 but the clothing they had hurriedly huddled on, were reduced to the acceptance of the charity which 
 was so quickly extended from every quarter. 
 
 The loss was enormous, but capital quickly poured in from abroad and the eastern centres, and the 
 rapidity with which the work of reconstruction was accomplished can be only described as being little 
 short of marvelous. Along Washington, Madison, Monroe, State and Clark streets, and the streets 
 that run parallel with and across them, have since been erected the most superb blocks devoted to 
 business purposes to be found in this, or we think, any other country. Description fails to give any 
 idea of the regularity of design with which the buildings have been erected, and the great width of 
 the streets shows them to great advantage. 
 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
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UNIVERSITY OF ILUNOI9-UR0ANA