AMONG THE WONDERS OF THE BLACK HILLS.
[Illustration: DELLS OF SIOUX RIVER.]
Soon after reaching St. Paul our party divided, two of our photographers
being instructed to take views of the falls, lakes and river-scenery
thereabouts, while the other set out with the camera car, over the
Chicago, St. Paul and Omaha Railroad, to Sioux City, and thence by the
Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri Valley Railroad to Deadwood. There is
nothing of particular interest to entertain the traveler in search of
scenic wonders until Iowa is crossed and we reach the Big Sioux River;
nor is the immediate district about Sioux City one affording scenery of
much importance. But at Dell Rapids, something more than one hundred
miles north, we come in contact with some surprises which are without
example, save in the Wisconsin River, hereafter to be described. The
town derives its name from the remarkable freaks of nature displayed
along the river-banks, and known as the Dells, and which are recognized
as the safety-valves of the immense water-power at Dell Rapids. This
picturesque stretch of fantastic bluffs and eccentric stream is thus
described by a writer who recently made the passage in a canoe from Dell
Rapids to Sioux Falls.
[Illustration: LOVER’S LEAP, DELLS OF THE SIOUX.]
[Illustration: THE DEVIL’S NOTCH, DELLS OF THE SIOUX.]
[Illustration: DANGER ROCK, DELLS OF THE SIOUX.]
“Beginning at a break in the Big Sioux River, on the south bank,
opposite the town, at first the Dells present the appearance of a
rivulet flowing out of the main body of water, taking a circuitous
direction to re-unite with the parent stream some two and one-half miles
further along its eccentric course. Yet only in the highest stages of
its waters does the Sioux overflow the dam across the aperture between
itself and the Dells, and it becomes instantly apparent that it is not
from the river that this peculiar branch, which is not a branch, obtains
its water supply. Investigation determines that the Dells are fed by
invisible springs, indefinite in number and indefinable in volume, which
maintain in the bed of this curious stream an average depth of about
eleven feet, although a much greater depth is found in various places.
As you progress along the banks of the Dells, you notice increasing
accumulations of the well-known Big Sioux quartzite, in its dull red and
leaden colors; the banks grow more and more precipitous; the rocks are
heaped strata upon strata in immeasurable quantities, and take on
fantastic shapes and unusual formations; the Dells deepen into a gorge,
far down into the bottom of which the waters taking their hues from the
sky above them, creep along in almost imperceptible ripples. Overhead,
pile on pile, hangs the rugged quartzite, shelving out over the liquid
blue beneath; in the sides of the rocky banks innumerable swallows build
their nests, while above them shrubbery clings and cacti grow, seemingly
nurtured in a soil of adamant. Perhaps the highest perpendicular point,
from the summits of the overhanging rocks to the waters below, is very
nearly forty-five feet; but so precipitous is the descent, and so
grotesquely wild the aspect, that it is no wonder the majority of
tourists report the height much greater. Descending a fissure, gazing
down which descent seemed impossible, the writer pushed off in a rude
canoe and paddled for some distance under the overshadowing banks. Here,
indeed, looking upward, the impression was intensified, for upheavals
had torn these banks apart and given to them, with whimsical violence,
their strangely weird formations.” Beyond Sioux City the country is
monotonously level until, far in Nebraska, the road rushes into Elkhorn
Cañon and passes for a considerable distance between walls sometimes
vertical, but never very high, and which lack the grandeur and coloring
that characterize those of mountain streams. Emerging from Elkhorn
Cañon, the road runs for a long distance through the Niobrara Valley,
though never close to that stream, until it crosses the river at
Valentine. The southern line of South Dakota lies only a few miles
north, and from Valentine west the road approaches to within twenty-five
miles of the Rose-Bud and Pine Ridge Reservations, and of Wounded Knee,
the scene of the last Indian insurrection, and of Pine Ridge Agency,
where Sitting Bull was killed. Crossing White River at Dakota Junction,
the road turns due north, and passing out of the plains of Nebraska
enters the mountainous country known as the Black Hills, at Buffalo Gap.
On the east are the _Mauvais Terres_, or Bad Lands of South Dakota,
which extend west to the South Fork of Cheyenne River, while towards the
west is the rugous, rough and riotous district known as the Black Hills.
At Buffalo Gap connection is made with a narrow-gauge spur of the main
line of road, which runs southwesterly a distance of fifteen miles and
terminates at the Minnekahta, or Hot Springs. In making this run we pass
through a mighty gorge whose age-swept and vertical walls climb up,
stratum upon stratum, to a height of several hundred feet, and then
break into spear-pointed peaks, called the “Needles.” This is Fall River
Cañon, noted for its spires, parti-colored walls, and beautiful
waterfalls that leap from a hundred brinks into the arms of the rushing
river. That this is a land of gold is not better proved by the fact that
the Black Hills were purchased of the Sioux by the Government in 1876,
at the enormous price of $70,000,000 and support of the Indians for
seven generations, than that the output of the several gold and silver
mines of the district exceeds $100,000,000; verily, a richer land than
Ophir.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
SIGNAL ROCK, ELKHORN CAÑON.—The wild turbulence of nature that
distinguishes the scenery in the Black Hills district of Dakota is
handsomely represented in this photograph. In Elkhorn Cañon the
walls are some distance apart and only occasionally vertical, but
there is rugged, tumultuous chaos in the cañon that interposed great
difficulties to the engineers who built the railroad through it. The
bluff on the left of the picture rises to so great a height that
from its summit Indians could signal, by means of fire, a distance
of nearly one hundred miles, whence its name.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: CABINET GORGE, DELLS OF THE SIOUX RIVER.]
Turning back, we resumed our journey northward over the Elkhorn road,
and passed through many miles of the most magnificent scenery to be
found anywhere on the American Continent. The entire region is mountain
infested, and to penetrate it by rail the road is compelled to follow
the almost interminable sinuosities of creeks and broken valleys, with
tunnels every few miles, and bridges quite as frequent. Through Fan-Tail
Gulch the road winds in tortuous ways that sometimes draw grotesque
figures, and in one place the road-bed is of the exact shape of a
horseshoe, while on both sides of Elk Creek Cañon there are butting and
pinnacled walls that suggest ruins of gigantic cathedrals, or monuments
in a graveyard of Titans. Everywhere we turn there is the carving and
hieroglyphic writing of the glacier and the volcano that in some age
wrestled with the rocks and left them in a confusion of whimsical forms.
Particularly is this true of Elk Creek Cañon, which presents many
curious bluffs and isolated shafts of stone, worn into monoliths of
oddity by wind and water.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
NEEDLE POINTS, NEAR HARNEY’S PEAK, BLACK HILLS.—These remarkable
formations are prominent among the scenic wonders of the world, and
if they were located in some older country and connected with
legendary or historical incidents, would attract crowds of admiring
tourists from the four quarters of the earth. These whimsical
creations of the centuries, exhibiting as they do the severest
contortions of nature, are remarkable, even to the point of being
almost startling, but they are surrounded by, and are in the midst
of, so many other tremendous upheavals, that they do not attract the
attention which they deserve.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: CATHEDRAL ROCK, IN ELK CREEK CAÑON, BLACK HILLS.]
After passing Piedmont the region is less rugged and gradually falls
away into a plain, dotted here and there with buttes of clay, some of
them reaching a height of fifty feet, and in the distance resembling
large buildings. Fort Meade and Bear Butte are on the right as we make a
turn towards the west, then run south, until we enter Deadwood, which
lies at the gnarled and bunioned feet of the Hills. We have scarcely
been out of a cañon since leaving Hot Springs, but at Deadwood the
granite walls that have become so familiar slope away until they become
hills of slate and red clay, which have been denuded of their vestures
of pine to supply fuel for the reduction mills. Through one of the last
rifts in the walls that confine the track of the railroad a glimpse of
Central City is obtained, several miles away, and a few minutes later we
roll into the great mining town that is celebrated for its wealth,
energy, golden prospects, and as being the place where Wild Bill was
killed, and Calamity Jane broke the biggest faro bank in the settlement.
Though Deadwood is only sixteen years old, few cities have passed
through so many terrible vicissitudes. In 1876 the gold prospectors in
the Hills were harried by Indians; then when the district was purchased
and active settlement began, gamblers and shady women flocked to the
place, considering that every honest person was legitimate prey, until
the vigilantes restored order. Building was rapid, so that three years
after the miners staked their first claims in the Hills, Deadwood had
become a place of 5,000 inhabitants and was rapidly flowering into a
great city. Then a dreadful fire broke out, which ravaged and swept the
town, leaving scarcely a house uninjured, and nearly every citizen
homeless. The loss was estimated at $1,500,000, but in its effects the
loss was probably twice that amount. But with that courageous energy
which characterizes western settlements, the people went to work to
rebuild before even the embers had turned to ashes, and by 1883,
Deadwood was a second time showing a metropolitan bud. She had emerged
from the crucible, but fate had resolved that she should be subjected to
another ordeal. Accordingly, the elements gathered their forces all
around upon the mountains and in the gulches. For weeks unprecedented
snow-storms bombarded the country and covered it to an extraordinary
depth. Then the windows of heaven were opened and the rain descended.
Day and night a terrific down-pour continued, followed directly by a
flood that struck the town from every direction, and with irresistible
might washed nearly every building from its foundation, leaving even
small opportunity for the unhappy people to escape to the hills. But
though the town was twice destroyed, the citizens lost none of their
pluck, and before the cruel waters were fully assuaged they resumed the
work of building again on the same twice stricken site, and have so
continued until Deadwood is fortified against calamity and is moving on
at the head of the procession, with colors flying and drums beating, the
capital city of a capital country.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
THE SUMMIT OF HARNEY’S PEAK, BLACK HILLS.—This famous and picturesque
mountain peak derives its name from the gallant old hero, Gen. W. S.
Harney, who won fame and glory in the battles of his country with
Mexico and the red warriors of the West. It was principally through
his firmness, bravery and wisdom, aided by the confidence which the
Indians reposed in his integrity, that the hidden treasures and
scenic wonders of the Black Hills were delivered up to the white
people. It is said that the Indians who formerly occupied this
region frequently exchanged gold nuggets and gold bullets for leaden
ones of the same weight, so abundant was the yellow metal in some
portions of their country—a statement, however, which lacks
confirmation.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: VIEW OF BEAR BUTTE, AT A DISTANCE OF FORTY-SIX MILES FROM
THE ROAD, IN FAN-TAIL GULCH.]
There are many interesting points within a few miles of Deadwood; for
aside from the rugged character of the scenery, in the near vicinity are
several of the largest wealth-producing mines in the world. The trip to
Bald Mountain over the Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri Valley narrow-gauge
Road is one filled with pleasure and surprise. The way is almost
incomparably winding, and exhibits remarkable examples of engineering
skill and enormous investment. In several places the grade is four
hundred and thirty feet to the mile, while the curves are said to be of
one hundred and fifty feet radius. Passing up such grades and around
such sharp turns, it is not so surprising that the train should in one
minute be running along lofty benches, apparently in mid-air, over dizzy
trestles, and in the next few moments be scurrying through a valley so
deep that sunlight rarely ever visits it. North of Bald Mountain, and
reached by a stage-line, are Crow Peak, Round-Top Mountain, and the town
of Spearfish. This latter place is located on a creek of the same name
that goes tumbling through a deep cañon with vertical, serrated walls,
and diversified by roaring cascades and far-leaping waterfalls.
Returning to Deadwood, we took the Burlington and Missouri River
Railroad south through another long stretch of turbulent scenery, of
rushing creeks, darksome gorges, under the shadows of lofty mountains,
and by curious formations. Custer Peak is only two or three miles east
of the road, and it is the center of a riotous region of broken stone,
each one a very mountain of itself. Below, we strike Spring Creek, and
go bowling along the valley cut out of the bills by that stream, until
Harney’s Peak breaks into view, five miles to the east, and lifts its
piney crest into the azure depths 8,000 feet. Hereabout are not only
waterfalls, cañons, creeks, and huge bowlders dashed down from frost-
riven peaks, for besides gold and silver, the region is said to abound
with tin, that peculiarly elusive mineral which, though often found,
seems to always dematerialize after the campaign is over; and though
millions have been spent in developing the tin mines near Harney, the
product has not yet paid the expense of mining. Three miles south of the
peak are the Needles, bold-jutting pinnacles of sandstone that stand
high above the bed of Squaw Creek and point their fingers toward the
sky. Buckhorn Mountain stands very near the west side of the road, and
close to its base reposes the town of Custer, the center of a broken
district called Custer Park, famous for its scenery of river, tumultuary
and distorted rocks over which a weasel can hardly make its way. A
little further south we enter Red Cañon Creek, where the same general
character of eroded and disrupted rocks continues, with occasional
exhibitions of oddity exceeding those previously seen in the Hills.
Evidently some terrific force has been at work in this uncanny region,
for here and there our wonder is excited by extraordinary instances of
displacement. Beecher Rocks are comicalities done in stone, but Wedge
Rock must wear the garland as the most astounding example of natural
tumult in this wonder-region, and which can be better understood by the
accompanying illustration, than explained by the bare use of words.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
HARNEY’S PEAK, BLACK HILLS.—A general view of this famous mountain
from the valley where this photograph was taken does not show the
wonderful formations of the rocks on its summit and sides so well as
closer special views do; but it is sufficiently picturesque to be
entitled to a place in this representative work on American scenery.
The picture, however, exhibits the extent and magnitude of the
mountain, whose head is raised high above the timber line, in the
region of perpetual snow.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
WEDGE ROCK, NEAR CUSTER CITY.—This immense rock, weighing thousands of
tons, found a lodgment, where it is photographed, after a terrific
plunging descent from near the top of the mountain, whence it was
riven by some mighty convulsion. The path of its terrible fall is
still discernible, in seams and abrasions on the face of the
mountain, and in contemplating it one cannot refrain from regretting
that he was not present to witness such an awe-inspiring and
dreadful exhibition. It was a scene which might have frightened even
the imperturbable gods of the hills.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: THE HORSESHOE IN ELK CREEK CAÑON.]
But the country is not only rugged and mountain-spurred; it possesses
curiosities even greater beneath the surface than those which diversify
the sun-kissed landscape over which we have just passed. On Elk Creek,
and entered from the cañon wall, is Keith’s Crystal Cave, a colossal
rent in the mountain bowels, with passages fifteen miles in length. It
is beautifully chambered, from which depend the most exquisite
crystallizations in the form of stalactites and stalagmites that reflect
the torchlight in glorious colors, dancing from column of onyx to pools
of pellucid water.
But a more remarkable cave than Keith’s is found a little way west of
Custer, and twelve miles north of Hot Springs. This marvelous natural
excavation is ramified by many passages which have been explored for a
distance of sixty-five miles, and the end is not yet. On account of the
peculiar respiration of the cave, the air at one time rushing in with
great velocity and again being expelled with equal force, it is called
the Wind Cave; and no better name can be bestowed, for the cause of this
inrushing and regurgitation of air seems to be beyond ascertainment.
Like its more northerly cousin, Wind Cave is chambered and adorned with
beautiful crystals that shimmer under the glances of the torch and are
set aflame with color, with here and there such graceful formations as
to suggest studios of monster sculptors.
[Illustration: BEECHER ROCKS, NEAR CUSTER CITY.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
A CHAMBER IN CRYSTAL CAVE, BLACK HILLS.—This wonderful subterraneous
chamber is becoming more celebrated in many respects than the famous
Mammoth Cave of Kentucky, beautifully photographed and described in
later numbers of this work. Crystal Cave has been explored for a
distance of sixty-five miles, and the end is not yet discovered. It
has a marked peculiarity in its regular respiration or breathing,
like a living thing; the air at stated intervals rushes in with
great velocity, and is again expelled with equal force. Its chambers
are halls of stalactitic splendors, almost rivaling those of the
Luray Caverns.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: THE CHANCEL, CRYSTAL CAVE, BLACK HILLS.]
Continuing our way southward to the junction of the Wyoming Division, in
Fall River county, we turned north on that small branch whose temporary
terminus is Merino, at which point a team was engaged to take us to what
is truly one of the seven wonders of the world. In our trip of several
thousand miles through the mountainous regions of the great West, we had
seen and photographed many extraordinary and startling prodigies of
nature, so that all sentiment of awe, surprise and admiration had been
aroused, but we were now to be confronted by a miracle in stone that
confounded and mingled all feelings of wonderment and fascination into
stupefaction of bewildered senses.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
DEVIL’S THUMB, CUSTER PARK, NEAR CUSTER CITY.—This grotesque formation
is weird enough to be in fact the thumb, or the toe, or any other
member of his Satanic majesty’s supposably ugly and immeasurably
immense body. Suggestive of evil power as it may be, the Thumb is
surrounded by other petrified imps of darkness, scarcely less
uncanny and frightful in appearance, indicative of nature in her
wildest mood.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: THE DEVIL’S CHAIR, ST. CROIX RIVER.]
We had to travel about twenty-five miles across a fairly level stretch
of country before reaching the Belle Fourche River, a main branch of the
Cheyenne, on the west bank of which is located this marvelous monument
of the ages, which for its astounding size and unaccountable formation
is called the Devil’s Tower. Among the Sioux Indians, who have always
regarded it with superstitious dread, it is known as the Mateo’s Tepee,
signifying the Bear’s Lodge, and was by them supposed to be the haunt of
a were-animal, who possessed the power of becoming a bear or man at
pleasure. The country within a radius of fifty miles is slightly broken
by high table-lands, but there is nothing to indicate any special spasm
of nature by which so great a freak might have been formed; yet out of
this undulating expanse of landscape suddenly rises a stupendous obelisk
of vitrified stone, to the amazing height of eight hundred feet. The
base, which measures 326 feet at its longest diameter, is 400 feet above
the river-bed, which in turn is 500 feet above sea level. Thus measured,
the peak of this amazing tower is 1,700 feet above the sea; no surprise
therefore that it is visible for a distance of forty miles. But the
wonder which such a colossal shaft naturally excites is immensely
increased by the fact that the Devil’s Tower is a composition of huge
crystals of basalt, or volcanic rock, which lie in columns some three
feet in diameter, and continue unbroken from the base to the peak,
giving to it a fibrous appearance. The walls are almost vertical, with a
slightly vertical slope, to give it a more graceful contour, and though
there are occasional rifts in the sides, no human being, however skilful
as a spire-climber, can ever accomplish its ascent.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
THE DEVIL’S TOWER OF VITRIFIED ROCK, 800 FEET HIGH.—This unparalleled
curiosity, the most wonderful formation of the kind in the world, is
situated on the bank of Belle Fourche River, in Northeastern
Wyoming. It has a base of only 326 feet, and towers to the amazing
height of 800 feet above the level plain on which it stands. A full
description of this marvelous wonder is given in preceding pages,
also an account of the author’s visit to it, when it was specially
photographed for GLIMPSES OF AMERICA.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: TEA-TABLE ROCK, WISCONSIN RIVER.]
The enquiry is irresistible: “What wondrous force created this petrified
monster of the Wyoming table-lands?” One plausible answer may be built
upon the theory that here, at one time, was the bed of an ocean, a
supposition supported by such evidences as the finding of sea-shells and
bones of extinct sea-creatures all about over the ground, and deeply
embedded in the earth throughout the section. When the waters receded,
this inequality, which might have existed as an island, was left as the
product of volcanic action. But a yet more reasonable cause may be found
in the supposition that along the Belle Fourche was the center of
intense volcanic energy sometime during the very remote past, during
which period the spot occupied by the tower was a volcano-vent out of
which poured lava in such a slow and steady flow that it deposited in
basaltic columnar crystals at the apex. Thus gradually it grew in size
and height, like many of the formations in Yellowstone Park, until the
volcano had expended its force and left this vast monument as an
everlasting evidence of its persistence through centuries of activity.
But however it was formed, the Devil’s Tower takes a place in the first
list of the world’s greatest natural wonders, and it deserves to be much
better known than it is.
Returning from a long and very wearying ride to the Tower, we again took
the Burlington Road, retracing much of the way we had come, and
proceeded to Crawford, Nebraska, in order to view two famous curiosities
known as Crow Butte and Signal Rock, which are near that town. Fort
Robinson post and military reservation are a mile west, on White River,
and the country is picturesque with buttes, which rise out of the
prairie lands in singular impertinence and unseemliness, while
considerable bluffs confine the river. The territory was for many years
the scene of bitter strifes between the Sioux and Crow Indians, who
reddened nearly every acre of the ground with their blood, and left
remembrances of their occupancy and incidents of their adventures in
names which they gave to a hundred points in the near vicinity of
Crawford. South of the town, about five miles, a conspicuous object in a
wide range is Crow Butte, a titanic elevation of stone, nearly two
hundred feet in height and several hundred yards in circumference, with
vertical walls on all sides except one, in which there is a winding-way
by which a horseman may ride to the top. The legend is told that on one
occasion a party of Crow Indians were so savagely pursued by their old
enemies that they took refuge on the top of Crow Butte, where, though
much fewer in number, they so valorously defended the narrow roadway
that the Sioux were driven back each time they attempted to gain the
summit. Being unable to dislodge them, the Sioux resolved to besiege the
Crows until starvation compelled them to surrender. For several days and
nights the siege continued, until at length hunger drove the Crows to a
desperate expedient. Watching their time, when the night was darkest,
they killed some of their ponies, and converting their hides into
lariats, lowered one after another of their number to the ground below
on the opposite side of the butte, until all but one old Indian had been
safely delivered, who was left a while to keep the camp-fire burning. On
the following day the old man came down and surrendered himself to the
Sioux, and related to them the wonderful means by which his comrades had
escaped. Instead of killing him, as might have been expected, on this
one occasion the Sioux magnanimously gave him his liberty as a
recompense for the loyalty and bravery which he had exhibited.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
DOME ROCKS IN CUSTER PARK, SOUTH DAKOTA.—In this photograph we have
another striking example of the curious and wonderful natural
formations of this locality, one of the most remarkable scenic
regions in all the world. These rocks seem to have been built by
human hands and fashioned with a purpose into all sorts and shapes
of grotesque and gruesome figures, and yet it would be impossible
for human hands to mold such wonders. Nature, in one of her spasms,
brought them forth, and imprinted upon their face the agony of her
travail.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: SQUAW’S CHAMBER, DELLS of the WISCONSIN.]
Signal Rock is only a short distance from Crow Butte, and is a similar
formation, though not nearly so large; and while the summit is nearly as
high, it is peaked and not difficult to reach. It derives its name from
the use to which it was frequently put by the Indians in previous years,
who by means of fire at night were able to signal to their friends as
far away as the Bad Lands of South Dakota.
The Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri River Road crosses the Burlington at
Crawford, and our work of photographing the Black Hills district being
completed, the trip back to St. Paul was made, and a junction with other
members of the expedition was formed, whose artist labors have already
been described.
[Illustration: THE NARROWS, DELLS of the WISCONSIN.]
[Illustration: CASTLE TOWER, DELLS of the WISCONSIN.]
The twin cities of St. Paul and Minneapolis represent the intrusion of
civilization upon the primeval lands of romance, and thus while we
admire the imposing wealth and architectural beauties of these great
metropoli, we cannot avoid a feeling of semi-regret that they have grown
at the expense and sacrifice of some of the most charming natural
wonders that first attracted public interest to the vast Northwest. The
head of navigation on the Mississippi is unalterably fixed at St. Paul,
for above that point the river is a brawling stream, flowing over ledges
and rushing through contracted passages lined with bluffs. At
Minneapolis are the Falls of St. Anthony, but no longer do these present
the furious aspect which once characterized them, for the wild riot of
turbulent waters that formerly went dashing over a high brink with a
roar that made the shore to tremble, have been harnessed, and are now
driven over sloping tables so as to glide softly into the bed below. The
channel, too, has been cut and buttressed with masonry, so that the
strong right arm of the falls is made a servant of commerce in supplying
the motive-power for many immense flouring mills.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
CROW BUTTE AND SIGNAL ROCK, DAWES COUNTY, NEB.—Crow Butte is a titanic
elevation of stone, nearly 200 feet in height and several hundred
yards in circumference, located about five miles south of the town
of Crawford, in Nebraska. The walls are vertical on all sides except
one, where there is a winding way by which a horseman may reach the
top. The summit is a natural fortress, where a few well-armed and
determined men could hold thousands at bay. A very interesting
Indian legend connected with this rock-fortress is related in
GLIMPSES OF AMERICA, the story no doubt having a good foundation in
historical fact.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: SKYLIGHT CAVE, DELLS OF THE WISCONSIN.]
The sight-seer turns with feelings of disappointment at the artificial
appearance of St. Anthony’s Falls, and seeking the wonders of nature
unadorned, drives over to Minnehaha’s sylvan solitudes, but upon which,
alas, the encroachments of sacrilegious improvements characteristic of
city extension are now apparent. But the voice of its falling waters is
still attuned to the rhythm of the poet that sang it into fame. Down
through flower-sprinkled meadows purls and gambols a silver stream,
slaking the thirst of the linnet and bathing the feet of the dove, until
weary of the sunshine it spreads itself over a ledge like a veil of
gossamer and drops into the cool shades that welcome its embraces. The
Falls of Minnehaha are an example of that coy and quiet comportment
which sometimes blushes into notoriety, for no one with less imagery
than a poet would discover the sublimity of its aspect, or the
artfulness of its graces. It is to Longfellow, therefore, that we owe
the immortality with which these laughing waters are invested, and the
imperishable fame of Hiawatha, who, while in quest of better weapons
[Illustration: CLIFF NEAR MOUTH OF WITCHES’ GULCH.]
“Paused to purchase heads of arrows
Of the ancient Arrow-maker,
In the land of the Dacotahs,
Where the Falls of Minnehaha
Flash and gleam among the oak-trees,
Laugh and leap into the valley.
There the ancient Arrow-maker
Made his arrow-heads of sandstone,
Arrow-heads of chalcedony,
Arrow-heads of flint and jasper,
Smoothed and sharpened at the edges,
Hard and polished, keen and costly.”
[Illustration: HAWK’S BILL, DELLS OF THE WISCONSIN.]
But no one with a love for the picturesque can close an eye to the
fairy-like beauty of Minnehaha, as it pours over a crescent brink in a
sheet of gauze, so thin that the wall behind loses little of its
distinctness, and the rocks upon which the water breaks are refreshed
like the head of a babe at its christening. A lace curtain is not more
delicate, and thistle-down is scarcely more dainty, as the illustration
shows.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
FALLS OF ST. ANTHONY.—The principal historical interest attaching to
the Falls of St. Anthony is the fact that they were discovered by
the famous priest-explorer, Father Hennepin, in 1680. They no longer
present the furious aspect that originally characterized them, for
the turbulent waters that once dashed over the precipice with a roar
that made the earth tremble have been harnessed and made a part of
the requirements of modern invention, until they now glide smoothly
down sloping tables to the bed of the river below. The channel has
also been cut and buttressed until the banks no longer present the
features of scenic interest which a score of years ago they
possessed.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: THE FAIRIES’ RETREAT, Dells of the Wisconsin.]
The eroding fingers of percolating waters have worn the soft rock behind
the fall, until a shelf is formed that extends three or four feet beyond
the face of the wall. Visitors may therefore pass under this shelf and
look outward through the transparent liquid sheet as it pours in a broad
but tenuous stream, not unlike valencienne drapery gently agitated. A
pathway leads from the falls down a gracefully embowered ravine to spots
so temptingly secluded that maidens never wander there that love does
not follow; and so many darts have been hurled at wooing swains in this
romantic dell that I am almost persuaded to believe that it was not
Hiawatha, but Cupid, who came here to get his arrows.
[Illustration: WITCHES’ GULCH, Dells of the Wisconsin.]
But if Minnehaha is beautiful in spring-time, it is sublime when folded
in the crystal arms of winter, a frozen cascade of puffs and snow-balls,
hibernating after its season of sporting, awaiting the return of bird,
flower and lover. Not far away are lakes of various sizes, like
Minnetonka and Great Bear, to which thousands resort when sultry winds
blow and the blazing sun of summer-time drives sweltering humanity to
such cool retreats. But the beauties of this northern region are not
exhausted by lake and waterfall, which though charming, cannot compete
for interest with some of the natural marvels that exist in the neighbor
State of Wisconsin.
[Illustration: WHIRLPOOL CHAMBER, Dells of the Wisconsin.]
St. Croix River separates the two States and is a stream that exhibits
both curious and exquisite formations along many miles of its banks, and
but for the vast logging interests which it so admirably serves,
penetrating as it does the great pine region, the river would be filled
with pleasure-crafts throughout the summer, carrying tourists in and out
among its dells and fairy-like grottos.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: MINNEHAHA FALLS IN SUMMER.]
[Illustration: ROMANCE CLIFF, DELLS OF THE ST. CROIX RIVER.]
Minnehaha is one of the smallest of the many beautiful and celebrated
waterfalls of America, but it is also the most lovely and poetic. It is
like a drapery of lace-work as it pours smoothly and gently over the
cliff, keeping time to the merry music of its own laughing waters.—The
accompanying photograph of Romance Cliff, on the St. Croix River, is as
beautiful in its way as its twin sister of poetic renown, and the two
together make pleasant company.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: SIGNAL ROCK, NEAR CAMP DOUGLAS, WISCONSIN.]
The bluffs of sandstone are a source of unending surprise, rising out of
the water so nearly perpendicular that they defy all effort to scale
them, and present a front like the walled cities of ancient times.
Nature has not left them undisturbed, either, for their toussled brinks
and seared sides show the finger-marks of frost in deep fissures and
eccentric cleavages, while here and there fantastic images of stone
stand like grim sentinels on commanding ledges, keeping unwearied watch
upon the industrious river. Most curious of these erratic formations is
the Devil’s Chair, which the Chippewa Indians verily believe was one
time the resting-place of his sable majesty, probably when he went
fishing. Anyhow, the rock bears the autographs of many adventurous
persons who have been there to see. The fishing certainly was very good
in this spot before Wisconsin lumbermen filled the stream so full of
pine-logs that not even the devil himself could keep his line from
fouling.
East of the St. Croix is Chippewa River, flowing in the same general
direction, but aside from being a pretty stream it has nothing to
specially interest tourists, for the banks gently shelve, and where
stone appears it is in thin layers, and the shore-line never rises to
the dignity of bluffs. But the Chippewa Indians, though now small in
numbers, still retain their ancient homes in the vicinity of the stream,
which, because of its shallowness, is not used as extensively as the St.
Croix for shooting logs to the Mississippi. Though surrounded by a
vigorous civilization, these Indians, if we except their clothing,
exhibit little change from their original customs and manners of living,
subsisting by hunting, fishing, and gathering berries for the
neighboring markets. They still make birch-bark canoes, like their
forefathers, and in a way, too, that white men do not appear to be able
to imitate. Specimens of their deft work are on sale in all the towns of
Wisconsin, from which source they derive no little profit.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
MINNEHAHA FALLS IN WINTER.—If Minnehaha is beautiful in the spring and
summer, dressed in its flowing drapery of white, it is sublime when
folded in the crystal arms of winter, a frozen cascade of puffs and
snowballs, hibernating after its season of festivity, awaiting the
return of bird, flower and lover. Not many visitors go there in
winter-time, for the north wind is biting cold; but those who do go
are rewarded with a vision of loveliness unsurpassed in the realms
of romance or fact. Beneath the winter sun it becomes a fairy
palace, turreted with columns of alabaster, studded with diamonds
and pearls, that sparkle and glow with the iridescent hues of the
rainbow.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: CLEOPATRA’S NEEDLE, DEVIL’S LAKE.]
In the eastern part of the State, in Howano county, lives a small tribe
called the Menomines, who are in what may be called the transition
period, for their manner of living is a composite of modern ways and
ancient usage and belief. Some of the Menomines appear to be thoroughly
civilized, at least so far as outward indications show, while the
patriarchs of the tribe remain steadfast in the faith of their fathers.
They have lost none of their confidence in the Medicine Man, whose
counsel in political affairs is as important as their influence over
diseases of the body is pronounced.
[Illustration: HORNET’S NEST, DELLS OF THE WISCONSIN.]
A Medicine Man being questioned as to how the power which he claimed was
conferred, answered thus:
“My heart told me that I should be a Medicine Man, and I went out upon a
mountain and fasted and prayed for two days, awaiting a sign from the
Great Spirit. At the end of the second day, as the sun was going to
sleep, I saw a great light which blinded my eyes, and heard a noise as
of the rushing of many waters. I looked around again, and about me were
four animals—a black-tailed deer, a white-tailed deer, a wolf and a
buffalo. They all spoke the speech of men. They said that the Great
Spirit had heard my prayer and had sent them to me. The animals then
took me over the prairies and told me what plants were hurtful and what
were good for my people. They told me what diseases of men the good herb
would cure, and then they vanished as suddenly as they came. I returned
to my people, told the chiefs what I had seen, was made and have since
been a Medicine Man.”
[Illustration: CLEFT ROCK, DEVIL’S LAKE, WISCONSIN.]
But the transition from savage superstition to civilized modes is
apparent among the Menomines, not only in the adoption of modern
clothing, houses, household utensils and Christian ideas; it appears
also in the change of their superstitions. They still believe in
Medicine Men, and indulge in what is known as the Medicine Dance, but
only at the time of the initiation of new candidates for such honors;
and their doctors must now be the possessors of more or less medical
knowledge, and be able to read and write. The ceremony is too long and
tedious to describe, but the most superficial observer cannot fail to
detect through it all the influence of contact with civilization.
The Ojibways are another remnant of the great Indian tribes of the
Northwest, whose homes are in Polk county, in the vicinity of Balsam
Lake, a pretty sheet of water in a wild district, where fishing is good
and game still fairly abundant. One peculiarity of these Indians is the
sacredness with which they regard their dead, and the care they take to
preserve the bodies of relatives from violation. They are content to
house themselves, even through the severest winters, in the flimsiest
structures, which afford very little shelter from the cold, but their
dead they carefully wrap in blankets and deposit them in small oblong
houses that are made to perfectly exclude rain, snow and cold, except
such as may enter by a square little door in one end. These miniature
mortuary houses are placed close to the homes of the living, that a
better watch may be kept upon them; but what superstitious motive
prompts this custom, I have not been able to learn.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
FOOT AND WAGON BRIDGE OVER THE ST. CROIX RIVER.—This bridge unites the
States of Wisconsin and Minnesota, and spans one of the most
beautiful views in the celebrated scenic region of the Northwest.
The clear water of the river reflects the bluffs and surrounding
objects as perfectly as the most costly mirror could, producing a
double picture of exquisite loveliness, the reflection being even
more beautiful in its softened outlines than the original. The
region of the St. Croix is famous the world over, and is justly
entitled to the honorable distinction which it holds.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
CHIPPEWA INDIANS, OF WISCONSIN, BUILDING A BIRCH-BARK CANOE.—Although
the Chippewa Indians are now practically civilized, and differ but
little in their appearance, dress and manners from the whites, yet
they cling with remarkable tenacity to some of their ancient
customs, one of which is the building of light bark canoes which
glide like zephyrs over the surface of the water. They are very
expert in this line of work, some of their little crafts being so
artistically finished and ornamented as to arouse the sincere
admiration of even the most critical observers. But lightness and
speed are their main considerations, mere beauty being held as
unimportant and suited only to holiday occasions.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: WINTER AT NIAGARA.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
A CANDIDATE FOR MEDICINE MAN BEFORE A COUNCIL OF MENOMINE INDIANS.—The
Menomines are a small tribe, living in the eastern part of
Wisconsin, who are in what may be called the transition period from
savagery to civilization. Some of the younger ones appear to be
thoroughly civilized, so far as outward indications go, while the
old patriarchs remain steadfast in the faith of their fathers and
their confidence in the wisdom and saving powers of the medicine
man. But even these have so far advanced, perhaps unconsciously to
themselves, that all candidates for this important office are
required to be able to read and write, and to possess more or less
knowledge of medicines. The ceremony of initiation is an important
event in the life of the candidate, and is regarded with a degree of
superstition and reverential awe by his friends and relatives.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: THE SUGAR-BOWL, DELLS OF THE WISCONSIN.]
Wisconsin is very justly famous for many things: its semi-civilized
Indian tribes, its lakes, dense pine forests, and above all for its
wondrous scenery, particularly along the Wisconsin River, where wonders
the equal of those to be seen in Watkins’ Glen, New York, are met with
in rapid succession some six miles north and south of Kilbourn City. It
was to Kilbourn City, therefore, that we proceeded, by way of the
Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul Railroad, to view and photograph the
truly marvelous scenery and whimsically erratic formations that
characterize that section of the river known as the Dells. The river is
deep, but at places so tortuously narrow between projecting elbows of
the limestone walls that only such a dimity and fairy-like steamboat as
the _Dell Queen_ can thread a passage, and we accordingly committed
ourselves to this frail little craft for the trip which is made by
tourists first to the Upper Dells, eight miles above the city, and then
to the Lower Dells, which are three miles below. For many, many
centuries the Wisconsin, probably always a rapid stream, has rasped its
soft Potsdam sandstone-bed, and constantly wearing its shore, has
finally carved out a way that is fantastically curious. Now the stream
rolls laughing along under vertical walls sometimes a hundred feet high,
and wrought into the most weirdly grotesque forms imaginable. All along,
its capricious course is marked by caves, caverns, grottos, glens, and
eccentric pillars of stone that are as humorously dressed as a zany in
caps and bells. In making the ascent from Kilbourn City one of the first
objects to arrest attention is “Angel Rock,” whose broad stretch of
petrified wing is said to guard against intrusion into the spectral
haunts that lie beyond. “Swallow’s Fortress” next appears, a
perpendicular wall of very great height, and unbroken length of two
hundred feet, garrisoned by myriads of swallows that have perforated the
face until it looks like the lid of a huge pepper-box. Having passed
this castle of many loop-holes, we enter a section where “Romance
Cliffs” pays eternal greetings to “High Rock,” with their strange
configurations and picturesque statuary; a spot that is favored by
speckled trout as it is by lovers. “Chimney Rock” next bursts into view,
built up of as many strata as a tower of pan-cakes, which from a
distance the chimney somewhat resembles. From the “Gate’s Ravine” there
is a splendid sight of “Sturgeon Rock,” which is so perfectly reflected
as to appear twice its natural size. Why it is called Sturgeon Rock not
even tradition tells us; but it is manifest in many cases that those who
bestowed names upon these pictorial surprises were so arbitrary as to be
indifferent to appropriateness, like the colored woman who called her
first-born Beelzebub, because she heard that some prince bore that name.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
WINTER CAMP AND BURIAL HOUSE OF OJIBWAY INDIANS.—The Ojibways are a
remnant of the great Indian tribes of the Northwest, who live
chiefly by fishing and hunting. One of their peculiarities is the
sacredness with which they regard their dead, and the care they take
to preserve the bodies of friends and relatives from violation. They
are content to house themselves, even through the severest winters,
in the flimsiest structures, but their dead they carefully wrap in
blankets and deposit in small oblong houses so perfectly built as to
exclude rain, snow and cold, except such as may enter by a little
square door in the end. These miniature mortuary houses are placed
close to the abodes of the living, where they may receive loving
care and attention. The origin of this really commendable custom is
not known, but it is like a similar one in vogue among the Indians
of Alaska, which has been described elsewhere in these pages.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: OCONOMONOC FALLS, WISCONSIN.]
At a place where the river broadens, and the left shore spreads into a
long level covered with willows, while the right bank continues its
precipitous career, there is a wide extension-table projecting from the
wall which is called “Visor Ledge, of Stand Rock.” This jutting point is
admirably designed for a jumping-off place, and it is a matter for
surprise that it was not christened Lover’s Leap, like all other similar
ledges and shelves that I have seen. Beyond this the river again
narrows, and singular efflorescences of stone, like a garden of
flowering curios, wrap our attention with questioning surprise. “The
Hawk’s Bill” is certain to catch our notice, and equally sure to excite
our wonder that it was not called the “Toothless Old Man,” for it does
seem that he might make a nut-cracker of his nose and chin. “Black
Hawk’s Leap” must be accepted as a poor substitute for the “Lover’s
Jump,” but as the latter has no place on Wisconsin River the former name
has been applied to a section of pictured wall that is excavated at the
base, and in which the gurgle of water is accentuated by echo into
ominous noises. This natural excavation is called Black Hawk’s Cave, and
is said to have been the place of retreat of a vanquished party of
Indians, who were murderously pursued by a large number of their
enemies, but memory fails to recall the particulars. A little further
beyond is another grotto of still more remarkable formation, called
“Cave of the Dark Waters,” and rightly it is named, for the entrance is
by a small portal into a commodious chamber whose first most noticeable
characteristic is its darkness. The water is deep throughout, and
continually suggests the advantages of the cave as a place in which to
commit crime, or to kiss your girl while passing through a dark tunnel.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
BELEAGUERED CASTLE, CAMP DOUGLAS, WISCONSIN.—The scenery about Camp
Douglas is weird, sublime and curious. There are formations of odd
and fantastic shapes, like the conjurings of a disordered brain,
while others lift their rugged sides and castellated peaks into the
air with all the grandeur and picturesqueness of “castles on the
Rhine.” To this latter class belongs “Beleaguered Castle,” so boldly
photographed on this page. Its resemblance to the ruins of some
ancient fortification is so striking as to arouse the wonder and
admiration of all beholders. The trees that have planted their roots
in its sides and along the top of its mimic battlements serve to
heighten the resemblance, so that one standing in its presence can
hardly divest himself of the belief that he is really viewing the
walls of some frowning relic of the warlike past.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: CAVE OF THE DARK WATERS, LAKE SUPERIOR.]
It is a positive relief from the oppression which entrance to the Dark
Waters Cave produces to be hailed, after emerging, by a sturdy little
stone island with a tossing crest of pine, which some Sweet William has
named the “Sugar-Bowl.” It is all the more refreshing because islands in
the river are exceedingly scarce, and this diversity of landscape is
accordingly doubly appreciated.
Still further beyond is the “Mouth of Witches’ Gulch,” commanded by
picturesque cliffs that show the teeth-marks and lacerations of the
gnawing waters. So romantic is the spot, and so inviting the little
saucer-shaped beach of white sand, that all the pleasure-boats that ply
in the Dells make a landing here and give their passengers opportunity
to go on shore and carve their names on the terraced walls. So many
persons had been there before us, however, that barely space was found
to write a pencil autograph.
Another stop is made at “Cold Water Cañon,” usually dry, but through
which the river pours in an impetuous torrent during high water.
Hereabout are also glens and other curious excavations, among which is a
hollow formation seventy feet high and fifty broad, called the “Devil’s
Jug.” Another run of less than a mile brings us to “Steamboat Rock,” an
oval island covered with hemlock and mountain cedars, opposite to which
a third landing is made, and ascending three flights of stairs to gain
the summit of the cliffs, across a stretch of woods, and descending a
steep, rocky ledge, we find ourselves at the superlative wonder of the
Dells—Witches’ Gulch. Abruptly arriving at the entrance of the gulch,
above which 189 feet, in a projecting rock, may be seen the wry,
unmistakable features of a tousled old hag, the queen of the witches, so
ominously frowning on forms and faces below. Without the slightest
exaggeration it certainly is one of the most wonderful, weird and
peculiar places on this continent.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: MINER’S FALLS, LAKE SUPERIOR.]
[Illustration: WHITE ROCK, LAKE SUPERIOR.]
The Pictured Rocks of Lake Superior and the scenery adjacent to them are
celebrated in art and romance. The former derive their name from the
great diversity of colors which they display. They have been worn into
strange shapes by frost and storm, and stained by the thousand dyes of
nature in every possible variety of arrangement, far beyond the power of
words to describe; and this profusion of color and shape is repeated
mile after mile, until the tourist is lost in wondering admiration.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: THE OLD GUARD, NEAR DEVIL’S LAKE, WIS.]
Entering the gulch, we look up—far up—and catch glimpses of sunlight and
see huge pines prostrate and lying from one ledge to another,
admonishing us to look well to our going. After many, many windings, we
come into “Phantom Chamber,” and in the side of a rocky ledge, scooped
out, as if by hand, find a natural basin, and take a drink of the cool
spring water gurgling out of the great rock into this hidden Pool of
Siloam. In this rocky apartment we ascend a pair of stairs, from under
which the stream that meanders through the entire gulch leaps in
majestic fall, its roar almost deafening, and spray dashing over us. For
thousands of years this little stream—at first, probably, a switch of
rainfall on the earth’s surface—has been engaged in wearing this chasm
in the sandstone, until now the gorge is seventy-five feet deep, nearly
a mile long, and in some places so narrow that a large person can only
pass through with difficulty, especially at Fat Man’s (or Woman’s)
Misery-point. In several places vast chambers have been formed, at the
door-way of one of which a beautiful fall of water leaps down into a
deep-cut basin.
[Illustration: SPLIT ROCK, DEVIL’S LAKE, WISCONSIN.]
There are several deep crevasses in the river leading to places of
extraordinary beauty and wonder, and which on account of the narrow
passage cannot be reached by the little steamboat. Row-boats are
therefore provided, by the aid of which we visited a number of these
side-attractions. “Skylight Cave” is one of these which, though having a
small mouth, widens inside and receives light through a little crevice
at the top. It is a cosy little retreat that well repays a visit.
[Illustration: FALLS OF ST. LOUIS RIVER.]
Returning to Kilbourn City, on the following day a trip was made to
Taylor’s Glen, which is thus well described by a correspondent: “At the
handsome school building on the east side of the village, a rugged path
struggles down into an ordinary ‘hollow,’ which farther down and
followed, opens into a grand gorge. Every step now reveals scenes and
formations beside which all the boasted charms of ‘Watkin’s Glen’ become
commonplace. Being neither cave nor valley, but combining all the
attractions of both, it winds and twists through immense rocks in a
serpentine path. At one point, far overhead, a sheet of daylight slants
through a mere rift the rocks. The roof and high-arching walls are
frescoed with diamond dew and dripping, drooping mosses and lichens.
Groups of strange figures, carved by cataracts, washed by whirlpools
ages on ages ago, ape Egyptian gods and mummies of the ancient Orient.
Here a crystal spring bursts from a wall of solid stone and goes dancing
down over pebbles and ferns. On through an ever-varying pathway filled
with kaleidoscope-like enchantment we wandered with awe and admiration,
our journey ending at a long, dark tunnel, which looks out, through a
wide, cavernous window, upon the river beyond. The Lower Dells, like
their companions above the village, have rocky banks, covered with
vegetation, and curiously shaped formations no less interesting than the
aggregation, a description of which I have but faintly accomplished. One
cannot see this truly remarkable, weird, romantic and beautiful section
of our land and suppress admiration. Nor will a week suffice for a
thorough exploration of the caves, grottos, rocks and ravines
hereabouts. Above Witches’ Gulch is a beautiful view of the river, its
bluffs and many islands, a fairly comparable Lake George view. A fine
drive is had north from Kilbourn to ‘Hornet’s Nest,’ ‘Squaw’s Chamber,’
‘Luncheon Hall,’ ‘Stand Rock,’ ‘Devil’s Lake,’ and many points of
interest farther up the river and in the country in this and adjoining
counties.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
RAPIDS OF MONTREAL RIVER, NORTH OF LAKE SUPERIOR.—These picturesque
rapids are located in the midst of a wooded dell, hemmed in and
secluded by surrounding hills from the busy haunts of men. In peace
and quiet they laugh and frolic and sing their merry song of
rippling waters and dashing fountains through the summer days, and
when winter comes they put on a dress of foamy puffs of white that
sparkles and glows like a bed of diamonds in the dull rays of the
northern sun.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: GIANT’S CASTLE, NEAR CAMP DOUGLAS.]
The whole region within a radius of thirty or more miles of Kilbourn
City, particularly on the west, is full of natural curiosities, for the
district was evidently at one time, in the remote past, the bed of a
lake whose swirling waters carved the soft sandstones into many
astounding forms, and then were assuaged by some force which geologists
fail to explain, leaving these rare monuments of their work behind them.
Devil’s Lake, nearby, is the relic of that vast inland sea, which no
doubt was a part of the great lakes, on the shores of which are many
images of wondrous shapes and size, with many of which interesting
legends are connected. Thus “Sacrifice Stone,” in “Wonder Notch,” is
popularly believed to be the rock on which an Indian maiden was
immolated at an unknown time to propitiate the anger of the Great
Spirit, while “Cleft Rock” represents the fury of the devil who, while
in a passion over some act of the tribe, rose out of the lake and hurled
one of his fiery darts with such poor aim that it did no other damage
than split the largest stone on the shore.
Cleopatra’s Needle is likewise reputed to be the transformed and
geologic remains of a very ancient Indian chief who was punished by the
devil for the audacity of attempting to penetrate the mysteries of the
lake; while another broken and distorted stone on the front of East
Mountain is connected with a similar and indistinct tradition respecting
the invidious curiosity of a squaw. But though there is no lack of
superstitious beliefs among the few Indians of the district, who respect
these queer formations as the relics of their forefathers, there is no
more foundation for them than the mere claim that “so it has been told,”
for no one has ever heard the particulars. It is a forgotten story.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
SUGAR-LOAF, MACINAC ISLAND.—Macinac Island is a delightful and
picturesque summer resort, located in the Strait of Macinac, which
connects Lakes Michigan and Huron. It is only about three miles long
by two wide, and is rough and rocky. The natural scenery is
charming. The geologist finds mysteries in the calcareous rocks
dripping at unexpected angles; the antiquarian feasts his eyes on
the Druidical circles of the ancient stones; the invalid sits on the
cliff’s edge in the vivid sunshine, and breathes in the buoyant air
with delight. The haunted birches abound, and on the crags grow the
wild larches beckoning with their long fingers, the most human tree
of all. There are many natural curiosities on the island, the most
noted being Sugar-Loaf, so beautifully photographed on this page. It
is conical in shape, and rises to a height of 134 feet.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: CHIMNEY AND BEE ROCKS, CAMP DOUGLAS, WISCONSIN.]
Near the west center of Juneau county, fifteen miles east of the
Wisconsin River, is a cross-roads railroad town called Camp Douglas,
which is in the midst of a region remarkable for natural curiosities,
rivaling those found in the Bad Lands in Wyoming. It is a country of
sandstone that exhibits the astonishing results of centuries of water
and wind erosions upon what was manifestly once a vast bed of
argillaceous clay, that in the process of time was converted into soft
stone as the lake dried up. The receding waters gradually wore deep
ravines in the sandstone, thus giving birth to rivulets which aided a
more rapid change in the bed until it became traversed by numerous
streams that in time completely drained the lake. Then the winds began
their work of eroding, helped by the sand which they carried, and the
result became finally, as we behold it in the Bad Lands, and in Monument
Park, Colorado, a large number of towers, domes, pinnacles and other
architectural forms. To the more strikingly curious shapes names have
been given, as the “Old Guard,” “Giant’s Castle,” “Castle Rock,”
“Chimney Rock,” “Signal Rock,” “Beleaguered Castle,” etc., as shown by
the illustrations.
From Kilbourn City we went to Milwaukee, and thence by the Chicago and
Northwestern, and the Minneapolis, St. Paul and Sault Ste. Marie
Railroad to St. Ignace, where we took boat for Mackinac Island, a very
noted resort in the Straits of Mackinaw. This island is celebrated for
its splendid scenery, some of which we photographed, after which we
proceeded to Sault Ste. Marie, the seat of government of Chippewa
county, Michigan, and noted for having one of the largest and finest
ship canals in the world, through which, surprising as the statement
appears, a larger daily tonnage passes than the Suez Canal accommodates.
One of the sights that are apt to claim the particular attention of
visitors now are the new grain-carrying vessels called Whale-backs,
which have within the last three years become a feature of our lake
commerce.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: FALLS OF MINER’S RIVER IN WINTER.]
[Illustration: THE CASCADE IN WINTER, LAKE SUPERIOR.]
In order to fully realize and appreciate the splendor and marvelous
beauty of the Pictured Rocks and the scenery adjacent thereto, they must
be seen in winter, when they are dressed in their frosty sheets of ice
and snow and ornamented with a thousand pillars of pearly white. It is
then that they appear like scenes from fairy-land, as pictured in the
fantastic creations of poets and painters.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: SIGNAL ROCK, CAMP DOUGLAS.]
In order to observe the shores more clearly, we took one of the Lake
Superior Transit Company’s steamers at Sault Ste. Marie for Duluth, a
route which gives opportunity for taking photographs of the incomparable
pictured cliffs of Superior. But at Marquette, where the steamer lands,
a yacht was engaged in which we were able to approach much of the finest
scenery that would otherwise have escaped our attention.
The range of cliffs to which the name of Pictured Rocks has been given,
may be regarded as among the most striking and beautiful features of the
scenery of the Northwest, and is well worthy the attention of the artist
and the observer of geological phenomena. They may be described, in
general terms, as a series of sandstone bluffs extending along the shore
of Lake Superior for about five miles, and derive their name from the
great diversity of colors they display. They are worn into strange
shapes by frost and storm, and stained by a thousand dyes in every
possible variety of arrangement, far beyond the power of words to
describe, and all this profusion is repeated mile after mile, keeping up
the interest by some new prospect of sweeping curve, or abrupt angle, or
fantastic form. “The ‘Castle,’ the first of the more striking features
of the rocks, bears at a distance a great resemblance to an ancient
castle, with walls, towers, and battlements. Further on, a mass of
detached rock called the ‘Sail Rock’ comes into view, and so striking is
its resemblance to a sloop with the jib and mainsail spread, that a
short distance out on the lake any one would suppose it a real boat
sailing near the beach. But the principal feature of the rocks is the
magnificent cave known as the ‘Grand Portal.’ Let the reader imagine
himself in a room 400 feet long by 18 feet wide, and 150 to 200 feet
high to the arched roof, bulk of yellow sandstone, seamed with decay,
and dripping with water. Shout, and the voice is multiplied a hundred-
fold by echoes that reverberate several seconds, sharp, metallic. Here
the stratum of gravel rises about fifty feet, while at the castle it is
nearly down to the water’s level. The waters are undermining the
foundations, and wearing holes everywhere in the support of the walls
and the roof. The water in the cave increases in depth as you go out
towards the lake, from the bare rocks of the back end to about fifty
feet at the opening, and a few rods from the shore it is a hundred feet,
or more. The cliff on the west, next to the Grand Portal, is hollowing
out, forming an immense cave, increasing every year.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
NIPIGON RIVER, FLOWING INTO LAKE SUPERIOR.—Nipigon River and Lake are
famous fishing and hunting resorts in the British possessions north
of Lake Superior. They are also celebrated for their fine scenery,
which attracts many tourists to that region during the summer
months. There are numerous rapids in the river, where salmon and
trout of a superior quality abound in such quantities as to fully
satisfy all lovers of the piscatorial sport who visit this region.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: SAND ISLAND ARCH, LAKE SUPERIOR.]
“It is beyond the power of the pencil,” says a recent traveler, “to
represent the effect of the reflected light in the roof as seen from the
rear. Especially when the sun is toward the west the bright light is
reflected from the waves into the cavern, and undulates like a sea of
light overhead; a picture in living colors, so tender, so quiet—
luminous, pearly grays, bright flashes, cool, high lights, all warmed by
the yellow sandstone, dripping with water, on which the effect is
thrown.”
“At the mouth of Miner’s River the coast makes an abrupt turn to the
eastward, and just at the point where the rocks break off and the sand
beach begins, is seen one of the grandest works of nature in her rock-
built architecture, which is known as ‘Miners’ Castle,’ from its
singular resemblance to the turreted entrance and arched portal of some
old castle. The height of the advancing mass, in which the form of the
gothic gateway may be recognized, is about seventy feet, while that of
the main wall forming the background is about one hundred and forty. The
appearance of the opening at the base changes rapidly with each change
in the position of the spectator, and on taking a position a little to
the right of that occupied by the sketcher, the central opening appears
more distinctly, flanked on either side by two lateral passages, making
the resemblance to an artificial work still more striking. The chapel,
if not the grandest, is among the most grotesque of nature’s
architecture here displayed. Unlike the excavations before described,
which occur at the water’s edge, this has been made in the rock at a
height of thirty or forty feet above the lake. The interior consists of
a vaulted apartment, which has not inaptly received the name it bears.
An arched roof of sandstone, from ten to twenty feet in thickness, rests
on four gigantic columns of rock, so as to leave a vaulted apartment of
irregular shape, about forty feet in diameter, and about the same in
height. The columns consist of finely stratified rock, and have been
worn into curious shapes. At the base of one of them an arched cavity,
or niche, has been cut, to which access is had by a flight of steps,
formed by the projecting strata. The disposition of the whole is such as
to resemble, very much, the pulpit of a church; since there is,
overhead, an arched canopy, and in front an opening out towards the
vaulted interior or the chapel, with a flat tubular mass in front,
rising to a convenient height for a desk, while on the right is an
isolated block, which not inaptly represents an altar; so that, if the
whole had been adapted expressly for a place of worship, and fashioned
by the hands of men, it could hardly have been arranged more
appropriately. It is scarcely possible to describe the singular and
unique effect of this extraordinary structure; it is truly a temple of
nature—‘an house not made with hands.’”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
THE CHAPEL, PICTURED ROCKS, LAKE SUPERIOR.—This curiously carved rock,
painted in many colors by the chemicals of Nature’s laboratory,
forms a bold and picturesque point on the north shore of Lake
Superior. It consists of a vaulted apartment in the rock, thirty or
forty feet above the level of the lake. An arched roof of sandstone
rests on four natural columns, forming an apartment about forty feet
in diameter and the same in height. Within are a pulpit and altar,
perfect as if fashioned by the hand of man. It is one of the most
curious formations in this celebrated scenic region, and has been
often pictured and described.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: ABODE OF THE GENII, LAKE SUPERIOR.]
The Pictured Rocks are beautiful and fantastic at all times, but it is
in winter that they are sublimely lovely, bewilderingly grand, as
photographs taken by Mr. Childs, to whom we are indebted for their use
here, will show. The falls of Miners’ River are exquisite when pouring
over a brink fringed with greenest foliage, but when held in the vise-
like grip of winter they are magnificent almost beyond conception. They
are a fitting prelude to the spectatorium of cave wonders near-by, such
as the “Abode of the Genii,” which might better be called the “Throne-
room of Fairy Stalacta.” The water percolating through the roof of the
caverns is frozen into the rarest, daintiest and most exquisite
incrustations imaginable, some having the appearance of snow balls,
chrysanthemums and lilies, while others reach down their immense crystal
points, as if trying to rest their ponderous weight upon the opalescent
floor. The “Cave-of-the-Winds” has a splendid entrance, and being
shallow in depth is well lighted, so that the ice-covered walls reflect
the most gorgeous colors; but the congealed formations, while very
beautiful, cannot compare with those that the Genii of the neighbor
grotto have appropriated. The splendors of these shores, however, are by
no means confined to the caverns, for almost equally curious and
charming views are presented by the vertical faces of the snowy cliffs,
upon which winter hangs the most magnificent draperies. “The Cascade” is
formed by the water flowing over a low bench along the shore, but at
many points more curious effects are produced by the fierce lashings of
the lake that toss showers of spray high up on the cliffs, where it
freezes into shapes peculiarly wonderful and often radiantly beautiful.
“Peter’s Pillar” is a curious ice monument formed by a little waterfall
that drops through a hole it has worn in the bluff, but about the base
are pretty ice terraces and graceful corrugations, the frozen spray cast
from the shore-beating waves of the angry lake.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: CAVE-OF-THE-WINDS, LAKE SUPERIOR.]
[Illustration: EXTERIOR VIEW OF CAVE-OF-THE-WINDS.]
The Cave-of-the-Winds presents a royal view of sky and lake, through an
archway covered with stalactites, when the observation is taken from
within; but its outward appearance is not particularly striking. The
cave is shallow in depth and well lighted, so that the ice-covered walls
give forth the most gorgeous colors as the reflected rays from the lake
fall upon them.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: BAY OF ISLES, LAKE SUPERIOR.]
[Illustration: PAD-LOCK ISLAND, LAKE SUPERIOR.]
“The Grand Portal” is a perforation through an elbow of the palisades,
and of such magnitude as to appear like a vast cave, when viewed from an
angle. Inside, however, it is seen to be a great tunnel, sufficiently
curved to barely admit the sight of a small opening at each end. At this
point the cliffs jut into the lake, and in winter they are festooned and
royally embellished with lovely ice-forms of every imaginable shape. A
formation somewhat similar is seen on “Sand Island” of the Apostle
Group, where the beating waves have made an excavation through an arm of
the palisades sufficiently large to admit the passage of a row-boat.
[Illustration: PRINCESS BAY, LAKE SUPERIOR.]
[Illustration: THE SEA-ELEPHANT, LAKE SUPERIOR.]
But for miles the vertical and gleaming white bluffs of sandstone,
sometimes resembling the chalk banks of Albion, distinguish the shore
line, and exhibit surprising perforations that are frequently large
enough to permit a boat to venture out of sight; and naturally they
attract large numbers of summer tourists, who find in these caves, like
the “Bay of Isles” and “Cave of the Dark Waters,” excellent trout
fishing.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: THE GRAND PORTAL, LAKE SUPERIOR.]
[Illustration: GRAND PORTALS, FROM THE LAKE.]
The Grand Portal is the doorway or entrance to a splendid cave in the
cliff of the Pictured Rocks. It is in the form of an immense vaulted
chamber, with a ceiling nearly one hundred feet high, which has been
carved out of the yellow limestone by the restless waves as they are
driven in and out by the force of the winds. The sides of the cave are
fretted and worn into all sorts of fantastic shapes, presenting a
remarkable and exceedingly interesting spectacle. The view from the
portal, embracing the adjacent cliffs and a vast expanse of rolling
waters, is grand and sublime.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
THE ICE PALACE AT ST. PAUL IN 1888.—It is hard to believe that this
majestic structure, with its frowning battlements, massive walls and
wrinkled visage of war, is composed wholly of transparent blocks of
ice. It has more the appearance of an impregnable castle, which,
outliving the scars and bruises of mediæval battles and the ravages
of time, has come on down into our modern and better era as an
example of the architectural ability and requirements of the dark
and bloody days of former ages. But it is a castle which requires no
resounding thump of the battering-ram or crash of cannon-ball to
shatter its walls and break its turrets, for they vanish and melt
away into imperceptible vapors under the warm kisses of the virgin
spring sun.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
STORMING THE ST. PAUL ICE PALACE, 1888.—This photograph represents a
scene of the grandest and most imposing character. The interior of
the palace was brilliantly illuminated, until it shone and sparkled
like an immense diamond, while from every tower, turret and
battlement many-colored lights blazed and flashed and shot up into
the sky until the very heavens seemed to be on fire. On the outside
there were batteries of rockets and Roman candles, and flashing
meteors that hurled their fiery messengers against the walls of ice,
bursting into a thousand brilliant and glowing fragments whose
reflection bathed the face of the dark sky in a flood of iridescent
light. It was a scene of splendor long to be remembered by those who
saw it.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: PETER’S PILLAR, LAKE SUPERIOR.]
The wonders of Lake Superior’s shores do not terminate at Duluth, for
the walls rise to even a greater height on the north line and are of
green sandstone and porphyry, occasionally twelve hundred feet high. The
St. Louis River enters the lake from the northwest at Duluth; and though
this stream is barely deep enough to float a raft of logs, it runs
between lofty banks of the same general character as those which confine
the Great Lake. Enormous palisades line the north shore of Superior,
whose columns are so symmetrical as to equal the best productions of the
sculptor’s art. Pigeon River forms part of the boundary line between
Canada and the United States, and is a stream in great repute with
sportsmen, and also offers attractions to those who delight in natural
scenery of a sublime character. Pigeon Falls is but one of many
interruptions in its course towards the lake, the pool formed by the
dropping water being a favorite haunt for trout and salmon, while in the
numerous lakes near-by are myriads of water-fowls that have their
nesting-places on the shores. A few miles toward the east is Nipigon
River, another beautiful stream that connects a lake of the same name
with Superior. It is somewhat wider than Pigeon River, and its shores
are less bluffy; thus the current being less rapid, the stream is
diversified by many little islands that are so green with pines,
hemlocks and other trees as to look like emerald gems. But all along the
north shore are scenes of great beauty, and vast stores of mineral
wealth in iron and copper lie only a few feet beneath the surface; yet
notwithstanding all these attractions, the region is rarely visited save
by Indians and sportsmen.
We reached St. Paul, after an absence of nearly one month, and there met
our photographer who had gone into the Black Hills in quest of views.
Being thus reunited, we started down the Mississippi, but by rail, as
the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul Railroad follows the bank as far as
La Crosse. Several stops were made, however, in order to catch pictures
of Fort Snelling, and the grand bluffs above and below Winona, which for
towering magnificence far exceed the hills that render the Hudson
famous. Indeed, considering the river from St. Paul to Pepin Lake, the
Mississippi’s shores present finer scenery than is to be found along any
other navigable stream on either continent. But south of that point the
views are rather monotonous until Grafton is reached, where the Piasa
Bluffs begin and run along the river for twenty miles, exhibiting not
only great vertical height, but curious shapes, and at one point some
very ancient Indian picture writings.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
PIGEON RIVER FALLS, NORTH SHORE OF LAKE SUPERIOR.—The north shore of
Lake Superior, and the little rivers which run to its waters,
present many surprising and beautiful scenes. One of these is
pictured on this page. It is a small sequestered stream, modestly
winding its way through shading woods and green meadows, and along
by quiet, restful farm-houses, until in a spirit of reckless fun,
wholly unexpected of such a demure little rivulet, it suddenly
plunges down a precipice with many a laughing leap and merry roar,
breaking into a thousand shining sprays that enrapture the senses
with their marvelous beauty and evanescent colors.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
OLD FORT SNELLING, ON THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER.—This grim and grizzled
relic of the past is named in honor of a brave soldier, Colonel
Josiah Snelling, who served his country faithfully and bravely in
many well-fought battles with the Indians in the early part of the
present century. When the fort was first erected it was on the
uttermost borders of civilization, in the midst of many surrounding
dangers, and it served its purpose as a nucleus and protection for
the gathering settlements of a later period.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------