CHAPTER VII.OUR JOURNEY THROUGH PICTURESQUE REGIONS OF THE NORTHWEST.

HIGH SIERRAS AND SUSIE LAKE, AN ARM OF LAKE TAHOE.

Winter had been spent in the vernal climate of New Mexico, Arizona and California, and we had so nicely calculated our work that when April arrived we were ready for explorations in northern fields. Accordingly, early in that month, we took our departure from San Francisco, over the California and Oregon Railroad (property of the Southern Pacific), to photograph the natural wonders of the extreme northwest. The road which we had thus selected is one of the most charmingly picturesque in America, abounding as it does with an infinite variety of beautiful valleys, leaping cascades, roaring waterfalls, snow-capped mountains, and abysmal cañons that are wrapped in eternal darkness.

After leaving Sacramento, the route follows the Sacramento Valley, through a marvelously fertile district, cleft by an exquisite stream that bellows, gushes, gurgles and rambles in a devious way from summerless peaks, through blossoming vales, and down mellow meadows, until it drops into the arms of the sea.

UPPER CASCADE OF CHILNUALNU FALLS, YOSEMITE.—It has been said by a distinguished writer that “either the domes or the waterfalls of Yosemite, or any single one of them, would be sufficient in any European country to attract travelers from far and wide. Waterfalls in the vicinity of Yosemite, surpassing in beauty many of the best known and most visited in Europe, are actually left unnoticed by travelers, because there are so many other objects to be visited that it is impossible to find time for them all.” This will doubtless explain why the beautiful cascade photographed on this page is so little known that it is not even described in the leading guide-books. It is one of the most attractive waterfalls in Yosemite, but it has so many neighbors equally beautiful and grander that it is passed by almost unnoticed.

NAJAQUI FALLS, GAVIOTA PASS, CAL.—Gaviota Pass is located in Santa Barbara County, and possesses some of the finest scenery to be found anywhere in the State. The photograph on this page will afford a good idea of the delightful visions to be seen in this region. The falls are neither grand nor majestic, but they are exceedingly beautiful, and the secluded retreat, fringed with ferns and mosses, where but few sounds are heard except the gentle splashing of the constantly falling water, is a place to be sought and loved on a warm summer day.

INTERIOR OF SNOW SHED, SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS.

Beyond Chico, northward, the scenery becomes rapidly more rugged, until we plunge into the Siskiyou range, and apparently become tangled up, so tortuous is the way. Time and again the road overlaps itself in winding up the steeps, leaps across yawning chasms on lofty steel bridges, and dashes into tunnels that for a while appear to lead directly to the center of the under-world. But on every side, where daylight reveals the turbulent landscape, there is much to excite wonder and to lend surprise. A hundred miles before we come abreast of Mount Shasta, the sunlighted head of that mammoth peak glints and glistens with a weirdly grand effect upon the admiring eyes of approaching travelers. There it stands, apparently shifting from one side of the track to the other as we wind around among the gorges and creep up the slopes, but always a chief among mountains and commander among the clouds. Sissons is the nearest station to the giant peak, and here we stopped to make some photographs and gather information. The base of Shasta is exceedingly broad, covering as it does a circumference of seventy-five miles, and its hoary head is lifted up 11,000 feet above the surface, and 14,450 above the sea. The greatest wonder, however, is not in the mountain’s height or size, but in the fact that it is an extinct volcano, whose crater is nearly one mile in diameter and 1,500 feet deep. On one side there is a rift, resembling a broken piece from the rim of a bowl, through which the sea of lava that boiled and seethed in this devil’s caldron many centuries ago, evidently broke and poured a burning flood into the valley, and overflowed a large district of country. This may have been done in one of its expiring throes, for certainly there are no evidences that the volcano has been in activity within the past five hundred years.

“There is a cold gray light upon this mountain in winter mornings, that even to look upon, sends a chill to the very marrow, especially if the snow-banner be flying; yet perhaps at evening tide, when twilight shadows have darkened the valley below, this vast pyramid of hoar frost and storm-swept ridges is transformed into a great beacon light of glory, where the warm mellow light loves to linger; where the richest halos of gold and crimson encircle it with their loving bands; where the last and best treasures of the declining sun are poured out in a wondrous profusion, until it is driven by the night lavenders and grays beyond the horizon; then, the tranquil light of the stars sends shining avenues of silver down its furrowed, hoary slopes; soon there comes out from behind the night, first a faint flash of radiant silver that gleams across the sky and dims the light of the stars, the higher peaks are aflame with St. Elmo fire, and slowly from spire to spire, and from ridge to ridge, this incandescent flood sweeps on until the whole mountain glows and gleams with a light supernatural.”

VIEW OF MOUNT SHASTA FROM SISSONS, CAL.—This view from Sissons is said to be the best obtainable of Mount Shasta. From this point it presents the appearance of a broad triple mountain, the central summit being flanked on the west by a large crater, whose rim is 12,000 feet high. The highest point in the centre is 14,442 feet. Shasta, as a whole, is the cone of an immense extinct volcano, rising with a single sweep from the base to a height of 11,000 feet. It is 338 miles north of San Francisco, and is visible for more than one hundred miles.

SACRAMENTO CAÑON, CALIFORNIA.

Another particularly wonderful natural attraction on the line of this road are the Chalybeate Soda Springs, which furnish an unfailing supply of mineral water, equal to the best that is bottled for the bar and picnic trade. When taken fresh from the spring, it has the appearance of champagne, which, indeed, it resembles in taste; and so strongly charged is the water with carbonic acid gas, that it will hold its flavor as long as any extra-dry wine.

Near these remarkable springs are the Mossbrae Falls, which come sliding over the lofty banks of the Sacramento in sheets of limpid water that look like glass, and have a spread of nearly half a mile. The fall varies in height from fifty to one hundred feet, but is surprisingly beautiful at every point.

After crossing Siskiyou Mountains, the road descends by a spiral way until it strikes Rogue Valley, thence through Grant’s Pass and gains the Willamette Valley, which is a level expanse of exceedingly great fertility. The ride to Portland over the rest of the way is interesting, not so much for the diversity of scenery, as for the scenes of thrift and prosperity which lie on both sides, for the country is a very Eden of productiveness.

Portland, which lies near the junction of the Columbia with the Willamette River, is one of the handsomest cities on earth, situated in one of the most attractive regions that the eye of the traveler ever gazed upon. From a high point in the western suburbs, gained by a cable-road, a view may be had greater than that which Quarantaria offers. To the west broadens the united waters of the two rivers, floating the commerce of this vigorous city to and from the sea. And in the clear atmosphere to the east rise like giants out of a plain the lofty peaks of Hood, St. Helen’s, Adam’s and Ranier, upon whose brows eternal snows beat with fury, and where clouds often settle to rest themselves for a fresh flight. Still beyond are the whitened crests of the Cascade range, reveling in a mad confusion of effort to gain the skies; and wandering through a maze of forest, mountain and gorge, are the Columbia and Willamette, like two long ribbons of burnished silver flung down by the gods to mark a way to wealth.

MOSSBRAE FALLS ALONG THE SACRAMENTO.—These falls are in the Sacramento River, not far from Upper Soda Springs in northern California. They vary in height from fifty to one hundred feet, and have a spread of nearly half a mile up and down the river. The water is so clear and limpid that it resembles great sheets of glass as it pours over the banks, producing a scene of indescribable beauty. The river at this point is very small, as shown by the photograph, but the scenery is of the most delightful character.

SODA SPRINGS, SACRAMENTO CAÑON.

The Willamette River is particularly beautiful in its upper course, where the scenery is almost a counterpart of that along the Rhine, whereas the Columbia becomes charmingly interesting almost from its mouth, and increases in grandeur as the ascent is made. Indeed, it may with truth be declared that scenically considered, the Columbia is the most delightful river that is known to modern geographers. The shores are mountainous, at times shooting up perpendicularly to amazing heights, and composing miles of solid walls; then again dropping away in level stretches covered with forests of pine, spruce and fir-trees; or revealing cañons down which plunge turbulent tributaries, and giddy waterfalls dancing out of the sky and falling in fleecy sheets so far as to dissolve its vapor. Some of the shore walls are of basalt, of fantastic shapes and brilliant with coloring; and not infrequently solitary columns of very great height are seen standing like sentinels along the water edge, such as Castle Rock, Rooster Rock, and the columnar cliffs of Cape Horn.

The Dalles of the Columbia are as famous as the palisades of the Hudson, while in fact they are much more wonderful, and well worth a trip of thousands of miles to see. They occupy about fifteen miles of the river between Celilo and Dalles Station, and are only 130 feet wide, whereas above and below, the bed of the stream is from 2,000 to 2,500 feet wide. As the river is swollen to extraordinary proportions by rain freshets and the melting of snow in the spring-time, it is not a remarkable thing that during such flood periods the water rises suddenly in this narrow cleft as much as sixty, and even seventy feet. The river itself very commonly rises as much as twenty-five feet, even at its widest places, and hence we may imagine what a raging torrent it becomes; but at low-water the Dalles are a succession of cascades of the most beautiful proportions, rolling in sheets of clearest water, over terraces of stone as regular as though they had been laid by the hand of a mason.

STRAWNAHAN’S FALLS, ON SIDE OF MOUNT HOOD.

MULTINOMAH FALLS, OREGON.

The region of Oregon near Portland, and along the Columbia, is rich in scenery of the most beautiful and picturesque character. Far in the distance loom snowy peaks, and the clouds, trees and mountains are reflected in the clear water as in a mirror. Among the most picturesque of all the scenes of this locality are Multinomah Falls, near the railway station of the same name. The water plunges down the astonishing distance of 700 feet, breaking into a ribbon of glittering spray as it falls. A little to the right of the main falls, as seen in the photograph, is another tiny little one, so modest as scarcely to be observed, but loved and admired by tourists equally with its larger sister.

WILLAMETTE FALLS, OREGON.

From the Dalles down, the river plows its way through the Cascade Mountains, which on either side appear like towered battlements, while waterfall after waterfall pour their tribute down the mountain sides to swell the on-flowing stream. Twelve miles below is Memaloose Island, which is the ancient burial place of the Chinook Indians, who held it as a sacred spot, guarded, as they maintained, by spirits of the river. The gorge proper begins twenty miles below the Dalles, and thirty miles further are the cascades, but between these there is an incomparable panorama of grandeur and beauty, for the river is broken by many giant bowlders, around which the swift-rushing water is lashed into fury. Still further below, and around the next interval of six miles, where portage by rail is necessary, the scenery becomes even more exquisite, with islands that are so wind-swept as to be entirely devoid of vegetation, while scores of lovely falls line the river, such as Horse-Tail, a clearly defined stream that pours down a height of 200 feet, and Multinomah, a strip, or veil, of spray, that falls 850 feet perpendicularly. There are, besides these, others almost equally surprising and beautiful, such as Bridal Veil and Oneonta, both of which dash down over cliffs brilliantly green with mosses, and are reflected in their full length in the crystalline river into which they fall, while the soft coloring of bluest sky and blending tints of emerald pines give to the scene an intimation of fairy-land. Just below these, in stately procession, are Castle Rock, that shoots up 1,000 feet; Rooster Rock, a dizzy pinnacle of stone amid-stream; Cape Horn, frowning from shore, and lifting its brow 500 feet above the river, while the Pillars of Hercules, twin shafts of basalt, grand, massive and sublime, act as guardians before this watery realm of wonderland.

DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA, AND MOUNT HOOD IN THE DISTANCE.—The scenery between Portland and Dalles City, along the Columbia, is grand and beautiful in the extreme. Here the river passes through the heart of the Cascade Mountains, and the turbulent waves roar through the narrow channel, confined on either side by cliff-like walls of rock, often rising to the height of 1200 feet or more. At Cascade Locks there are fierce and whirling rapids, with a fall of forty feet, the entire river dashing down twenty feet at a single bound. For a distance of five miles the river is a seething caldron of foam, too dangerous for any kind of navigation to be attempted. The photograph gives a splendid bird’s-eye view of a portion of the Dalles.

NATURAL PILLARS, COLUMBIA RIVER.

Twenty-five miles from the palisades, and reached by means of comfortable stages over a good road, is Mount Hood, one of the loftiest, as well as the most impressive, dead volcanoes to be found anywhere in the world, of which it has been written: “The view from the summit of Hood is one of unsurpassed grandeur, and probably includes in its range a greater number of high peaks and vast mountain chains, grand forests and mighty rivers, than any other mountain in North America. Looking across the Columbia, the ghostly pyramids of Adams and St. Helens, with their connecting ridges of eternal snow, first catch the eye; then comes the silent, lofty Ranier, with the blue waters of Puget Sound and the rugged Olympia Mountains for a background; and away to the extreme north (nearly to H. B. M.’s dominions), veiled in earth mists and scarcely discernible from the towering cumuli that inswathe it, lies Mount Baker. Looking south over Oregon, the view embraces the Three Sisters (all at one time), Jefferson, Diamond Peak, Scott, Pit, and, if it be a favorable day, and you have a good glass, you may see Shasta, 250 miles away. The westward view is down over the lower coast range, the Umpqua, Calapooya, and Rogue River Mountains, with their sunny upland valleys, and away out over the restless ocean. In the opposite direction, across the illimitable plains of Eastern Oregon, to the Azure Blue Mountains; down, almost to the foot of this mountain, ‘rolls the Columbia,’ through the narrow, rugged gorge of ‘The Dalles,’ 250 miles of its winding course being visible. The entire length of the great Willamette Valley, with its pleasant, prosperous towns and gently-flowing river, its broad, fertile farms, like rich mosaics, with borders of dark-green woodlands, is spread out in great beauty under the western slope of Mount Hood.”

THE CRATER OF MOUNT HOOD.

ON THE ROUTE TO CRATER LAKE.

Tourists need not cross the ocean and travel to Switzerland to see wild and grand and splendid mountain scenery, because it can be found in a thousand places in America on a much grander scale than anywhere in the Alps. An evidence of this is seen in the photograph of the crater of Mount Hood, on this page; and all along the Cascade, Rocky and other mountain ranges of our country, similar, and even grander, views can be observed by the thousands. We also present on this page an interesting portrait of our “mountain helper,” in obtaining views forGlimpses of America.

ONEONTA GORGE, COLUMBIA RIVER.

The Columbia is not only famed for its peerless scenery, and as being a main artery in Pacific coast commerce, but it is equally noted as affording the most profitable salmon fishing in the world. Hundreds of people are engaged in this industry, and vast wealth has been amassed by some of the large companies who run immense canneries in connection with the fisheries. At certain seasons the fish appear in such prodigious numbers, on their way up stream to the spawning grounds, that they almost crowd each other out of the water. The most successful way of taking the fish at such times is by the use of wheels attached to the end of a scow, which, being set in motion, scoop them up and deposit them in the boat, and so rapidly that thousands are thus taken in an hour. The fish continue their run up-stream as far as the water will allow, and so determined are they that they perform many amazing feats to gain the headwaters, crossing shoals, darting through the swiftest cascades, and even leaping up and over falls of considerable height. The Indians, familiar with the instincts of the salmon, in the season take great numbers by means of spears, which they cast with astonishing accuracy. A chief fishing place is Salmon Falls, where the river is a mile wide and plunges over a wall fully twenty feet high, extending from shore to shore. Notwithstanding this height, the salmon gather in the whirlpool below and suddenly dart up the falls like a flash of light, their tails waving with such rapidity that they are carried up and over the falls. It is while making these leaps that the Indians spear the fish, killing immense numbers, not only for food, but through sheer wantonness, at times fairly filling the river with the dead beauties.

ROOSTER ROCK, COLUMBIA RIVER.—This grotesque rock, occupying a prominent point in one of the bends of the Columbia River, received its rather inappropriate name from a fancied resemblance to a male chicken. It requires a considerable stretch of the imagination to see where the resemblance comes in, and it is to be hoped the time may come when a more appropriate and picturesque title will be bestowed upon this celebrated curiosity of nature’s creation. Why not call it the Castle of the Columbia? for it certainly looks more like a castle than a rooster.

CASCADES OF THE COLUMBIA.

Before leaving San Francisco, one of our photographers expressed a very great desire to visit Crater Lake, one of the most remarkable bodies of water on the face of the earth, and so urgent were his pleadings, that it was decided he should make the trip, while the rest of the party continued on to Portland, to perform the work of photographing points of interest thereabouts, and on the Columbia River. In pursuance of this arrangement, he left us at a station called Medford, on the Southern Pacific Railroad, and from that place rode over to Jacksonville, capital of Jackson county, Oregon, a distance of five miles, to make his preparations for a journey to the lake. Jacksonville is a town of about 1,000 inhabitants, off the railroad, but on the military road that leads to Crater Lake, some seventy miles distant northeast, and thence to Fort Klamath. It was not difficult to procure necessary conveyance, but for safety it was deemed advisable to pack the cameras on a donkey, probably the surest-footed and most reliable animal that ever submitted back to a burden. Three men accompanied our photographer, with one road-wagon and a light buggy, hauling the necessary camping outfit, and being well prepared, the party started from Jacksonville on the 15th of April, 1891. The road follows Rogue River the entire distance, along which is some very beautiful scenery, and not a few wild gorges, which were photographed. There are a number of post-offices on the way, Deskins being the most northern, beyond which, and for nearly thirty miles, to the lake, there is a wilderness of mountain and cañon, unrelieved by any signs of human habitation. Crater Lake is in the western part of Klamath county, and is in the Klamath Indian reservation, a region that is distinctively volcanic, diversified by lakes, marshes and mountains, with the soil so mixed with scoriæ that it is harsh and unproductive. It was not until noon of the second day that the vicinity of the lake was reached, approach to it being indicated by a bank of clouds that hung over one spot, like a fog gradually lifting, beneath which was manifestly a large body of water. A suitable camping place was soon found, and the tent being set up and dinner disposed of, the work of exploring and photographing the lake was energetically begun. Fortunately, the weather was propitious and the season favorable, for otherwise clambering over so rough a region with the precious burden of delicate cameras would have been next to impossible. The snow falls to very great depths on the high ridge which surrounds the lake, and spring rains are at times so heavy here that the precipitous sides are gashed deeply by the cataracts thus produced.

VIEW OF CRATER LAKE AND WIZARD ISLAND.—This stupendous and marvelous curiosity is located in Klamath County, Ore., and may now be reached by stage from Medford Station on the Oregon branch of the Southern Pacific Railway, a distance of about eighty miles. But when it was visited by the author ofGlimpses of Americaand his photographing party there were no public conveyances, and they were forced to rely upon their own resources. Crater Lake is probably the greatest natural curiosity in the world, as every one will doubtless admit after reading the descriptions in these pages.

AMONG THE CLOUDS ON MOUNT HOOD.

The Klamath Indians have many traditions about the lake, one of which is to the effect that in earlier years it was the haunt of great numbers of water-devils, who watched its shores and drew into its mysterious depths all luckless persons who ventured near its banks. For this reason it was not until recently that any Indian could be prevailed upon, by the promise of however great a reward, to approach near the lake, though they were glad to guide travelers to its vicinity.

The first sight of this marvelous body of water excites unbounded awe and immeasurable wonder. The surface is 6,250 feet above sea level, but notwithstanding this great elevation, it is enclosed by cliffs that rise from 1,000 to 2,000 feet, and the greater part are vertical. At times, viewed from the summit of the walls, both the skies and mountainous surroundings are mirrored in the unrippled surface of the lake, until it is really difficult to distinguish the line of separation between the real and the reflection.

Crater Lake is egg-shaped, being seven miles in length by six in breadth, and in the southwest portion there is an island which rises out of the water to the amazing height of 850 feet. But this is not its only remarkable feature, for the island is circular in shape, with a scant vegetation on its sides, and in the center is a crater known as the Witch’s Caldron, which is 100 feet deep and nearly 500 feet in circumference. Here, then, we have the now smokeless chimney of what was once an active volcano, out of which poured a fiery mass that ran down the steeps and became congealed in the lake, for the base of the island is of ashes and vitrified rocks, evidencing the intense heat which once prevailed within and around it.

SCENE ON COLUMBIA RIVER.

CLIFFS AROUND CRATER LAKE.

The salmon fisheries of the Columbia River constitute one of our most important northwestern industries, and the fish-wheels used in catching the salmon are to be seen at many points, lending a degree of life and activity to what would otherwise, in many instances, be an uninspiring view.—The surface of Crater Lake is 6250 feet above the level of the sea, and yet it is enclosed by cliffs that rise from 1000 to 2000 feet higher still. This will give some idea of the imposing grandeur of the scene. Many of these cliffs are perpendicular from the water’s edge to their summits, so that a stone dropping from the top will fall of its own weight into the lake more than a thousand feet below.

GROTTO IN CRATER LAKE.

On the shore, north of Wizard Island, is a rock that juts up 2,000 feet, and its side is so perpendicular that one standing upon its summit can drop a stone into the lake, nearly half a mile beneath. It is not at all surprising that this wonderful lake should be the subject of much superstitious dread among the Klamaths, and among the traditions and tales which these simple Indians tell is the following: A long time ago, a band of Klamaths, while hunting deer, which have always been abundant in this region, came suddenly upon the lake. They had often traveled over the same district, without discovering either lake or depression, and now, suddenly beholding so large a body of water, surrounded by towering walls, they perceived in it the work of the Great Spirit, but were not able to interpret its significance. All but one of the Indians fled in terror from the place, but the bravest determined, if possible, to ascertain the wishes of the Great Spirit, and, accordingly, he proceeded to the very brink of the lofty walls, and there built a camp-fire, to wait the Spirit’s call. Long he waited, until weary at last he lay down and slept; while he was thus sleeping he had a vision and heard mysterious voices, but he was not able to understand what was said, or to clearly discern the shape or appearance of his unearthly visitors. But as often as he slept he perceived, in his dreams, the indistinct forms of what half-appeared to resemble human bodies, and plainly heard voices, but they were strange tongues. Charmed by these visions, the Indian remained, day after day, and week after week, upon the precipice of the lake, leaving his camp-fire only to slay a deer for subsistence, until at length he descended to the surface of the lake and bathed in its crystal and mysterious waters. Instantly he felt his strength marvelously increased, and thereafter saw that the weird visions of his dreams were inhabitants of the lake, having human forms, but whether they were spirits of good, or devils of evil, he knew not. Familiarity, however, at length made him careless, and on one occasion he caught a fish in the lake, with the intention of using its flesh for food, but no sooner had he killed the fish than a thousand water-devils rose up out of the depths of the lake, and, seizing the unfortunate brave carried him through the air to the top of the cliffs. Here they cut his throat and cast his body headlong into the water, 2,000 feet below, where it was devoured by the angered devils.

PALISADES OF THE COLUMBIA.

THE GREAT GLACIER, CANADIAN PACIFIC RAILWAY.—This fine photograph shows the front wall of the glacier as it plows its way down the mountain side, grinding the rocks into powder and cutting seams and cañons that will stand for centuries as records of its resistless powers. Those who have never seen one of these immense rivers of ice, ever moving and never failing, can hardly appreciate the feeling of awe that is aroused by a near approach to them. There is no other force of nature that so distinctively manifests its irresistible powers.

A FISH-WHEEL ON COLUMBIA RIVER.

The Klamath Indians believed that the water-spirits had not fully satisfied their revenge by this one bloody act, but would similarly destroy any Indian who had the temerity to approach the lake.

Near the base of a cliff on the south side of the lake stands a solitary rock, probably 100 feet high by 200 in length, and nearly the same in breadth, that, while not seen by the present generation of Indians, it is nevertheless known to them, and is a special object of superstitious dread. They consider it as a peculiarly ferocious monster, but are unable to describe its characteristics. It stands in the lake, entirely alone, and about fifty yards from shore. Standing on the cliffs, about five miles to the west and looking across the lake, this strange rock is plainly visible in the sunlight, its rugged peaks reaching aloft, giving it the appearance of a full-rigged ship at anchor. Should a cloud pass before the sun as the shadow strikes the rock it will recede from view as effectually as though it had ceased to exist. This illusion has prompted some one to call the rock the Phantom Ship.

Another equally interesting optical illusion is thus described by W. G. Steel, F.A.G.S., who made an exploration of the lake with a corps of United States surveyors: “One day while at work on the lake, my attention was called to what seemed to be a tall, full-bearded man standing on the southern portion of Llao Rock’s summit. One foot was placed a little forward of the other and the knee slightly, but naturally bent, while before him stood a gun. His hands were clasped over the muzzle as he gazed intently to the north. Just behind him stood a boy, apparently about fifteen years of age. They seemed entirely too natural not to be flesh and blood, and yet persons at that distance would not be visible to the naked eye, as we were two miles out on the lake. Day after day, as our work progressed, their position remained the same, and in the absence of a better excuse, we decided them to be trees.

GREEK CHURCH AT JUNEAU, ALASKA.—The prevailing religion among the natives of Alaska is a mixture of the doctrines of the Greek Church, inculcated by missionaries from Russia, and the ancient totemism of the aborigines. The missionaries wisely concluded that it was better to convert the natives to Christianity, and bring them up to civilization by a gradual process, rather than attempt a sudden transformation; hence the singular combination of the rites of a ludicrous superstition with the beneficent teachings of the Man of Galilee. Mission churches exist at several points in the territory, one of which, a very picturesque building, is finely photographed on this page.

SUMMIT OF MOUNT SAINT HELENS, ABOVE THE CLOUDS.

“It is hard to comprehend what an immense affair it is. To those living in New York City I would say, Crater Lake is large enough to have Manhattan, Randell’s, Ward’s and Blackwell’s Islands dropped into it side by side, without touching the walls, or Chicago or Washington City might do the same. Our own fair city of Portland, with all her suburbs, from City Park to Mount Tabor, and from Albina to Sellwood inclusive, could find ample room on the bottom of the lake. On the other hand, if it were possible to place the lake, at its present elevation, above either of these cities, it would be over a mile up to the surface of the water, and a mile and three-quarters to the top of Llao Rock. Of this distance, the ascent would be through water for 2,000 feet. To those living in New Hampshire, it might be said the surface of the water is twenty-three feet higher than the summit of Mount Washington.”

The shore of Crater Lake has many remarkable indentations of slender arms and beautifully formed bays, and on one side there is a grotto running back some thirty feet and twenty feet inside, spanned by a graceful arch about eight feet high, forming an admirable shelter as well as a curious alcove in the rock, where the water is some twelve feet deep. The lake itself measures a little more than 2,000 feet in depth in places, but soundings show that there are peaks below the surface representing cinder cones, and which once evidently stood high above the surface. The whole lake is thus a reminder of mighty forces and the relic of terrible convulsions. What an immense affair it must have been ages upon ages ago, when, long before the hot breath of a volcano soiled its hoary head, standing as a proud monarch, with its feet upon the earth and its head in the heavens, it towered far, far above the mountain ranges, aye, looked far down upon the snowy peaks of Hood and Shasta, and snuffed the air beyond the reach of Everest. Then streams of fire began to shoot forth, great seas of lava were hurled upon the earth beneath. The elements seemed bent upon establishing hell upon earth and fixing its throne upon this great mountain. At last its foundation gave away and it sank forever from sight. Down, down, down deep into the bowels of the earth, leaving a great, black, smoking chasm, which succeeding ages filled with pure, fresh water, giving to our day and generation one of the most beautiful lakes within the knowledge of man.

TOP OF MUIR GLACIER, ALASKA.

CREVASSE IN MUIR GLACIER, ALASKA.

The Muir is the most celebrated of all the glaciers in the world. It is located in southeastern Alaska, about one hundred miles north of Sitka, and is easily accessible by the California coast line steamers. The two excellent photographs on this page will give a good idea of the wonderful formation and diversified beauties of this immense ice-river, which has been moving steadily down the mountain side for ages past, and will doubtless continue to do so for ages to come.

It may in truth be declared that Crater Lake is one of the grandest points of interest on earth. Here all the ingenuity of nature seems to have been exerted to the fullest capacity to build one grand, awe-inspiring temple within which to live and from which to gaze upon the surrounding world and say: “Here would I dwell and live forever. Here would I make my home from choice; the universe is my kingdom, and this my throne.”

CATHEDRAL ROCK, ON COLUMBIA RIVER.

Our trip up the Columbia, and along the Willamette as far as Willamette Falls, was delightful beyond any one’s ability to describe; but though wonder succeeded wonder, and kept us as under a spell of enchantment, there were other surprises in store which were to hold our interest and even add something to our astonishment. Returning to Portland, we might have carried out our original resolution to take the steamer at that point direct for Alaska, but we very wisely made a change in our plans, by which we proceeded by rail to Vancouver, stopping en route, however, to continue our work of photographing mountains, valleys and glaciers.

Tacoma was our first stop after leaving Portland, and a very beautiful city it is, admirably and commercially situated at the head of navigation in Puget’s Sound. Mount Tacoma appears to be in the very front-yard of the city, so wonderfully clear is the air, though in fact it is forty miles away. The Sound is astir with the white wings of sailing vessels, and streaked with the black trails of ocean-going steamers, while the blue waters are begirt with the dark green of heavy forests, making a picture of almost incomparable beauty. There is romance in the very air, a kind of dreamy vision of the long ago, when this was the happy land of the Siwashes, who come before us again in the pretty legends which linger still upon the lips of this almost extinct tribe. They tell us of a Saviour who once came to them, riding in a copper canoe, out of the bleak desolation of the icy north, and who, first calling all the tribes together, preached to them the gospel of unselfish service and righteousness. He taught them the beatitudes, and was first to declare that man was possessed of an undying spirit, which lived forever, in pleasure or pain, according to the measure of his deserving. The Indians listened with reverent attention until this Saviour exhorted them to live in brotherly unity, one with another, and to avoid all strife, for he who shed human blood would feel the vengeance of the Great Spirit. This teaching so incensed the war-like tribes that they seized the Saviour and nailed his body to a tree, where it remained nine days. Then behold, there came a great storm of hail, accompanied by thunders that rent the earth and leveled the forests. In the midst of this mighty cataclysm of natural forces the Saviour appeared again, resurrected unto full life, and speaking to the winds and the thunders, in an instant the storm was hushed, and a great peace and burst of sunshine bathed the earth. After this the reincarnated Saviour renewed his preaching and continued to teach immortality for many weeks, until at last he ascended to the skies in a cloud.

INDIAN BURIAL HOUSES, NEAR THE TOWN OF JUNEAU, ALASKA.—It is a religious custom among the Indians of Alaska to build houses, more or less pretentious according to the means of the surviving relatives, over the graves of their deceased friends. These houses are then suffered to fall into decay with the lapse of time, like family cemeteries in our own land, until in many instances the ghastly remains are exposed to view. The cemetery photographed on this page is evidently a new one, judging by the neat appearance of the little houses. There is really a beautiful sentiment in this custom, notwithstanding its origin among a heathenish and superstitious people.

BRINK OF SNOQUALMIE FALLS, WASHINGTON.

These same Indians have also a tradition of the deluge, which bears a striking similarity to the Genetic account. They assert that many thousands of years ago a great rain fell upon the earth, such as was never before or since known; that such torrents of water were poured out of the sky that the world became a universal sea, with no spot of dry land anywhere visible. In this all-prevailing flood every human being perished except one man who took refuge on Mount Tacoma. As the water rose, he was driven higher and higher, until at last he reached the summit; but still the sea advanced; it covered the loftiest point of the mountain, then rose above his feet, his knees, and finally reached to his waist, when, to prevent him from being swept away, the Great Spirit turned his feet to stone, and he thus became anchored on the peak. Then the rain ceased, and the waters were gradually assuaged, but the man could not yet move from his position. At last the waters were again within their beds, the fields bloomed, the forests put forth with new life, and the world became musical with song of bird and the lullabies of flowing streams. Then a profound sleep fell upon the man, and while he slept the Great Spirit took a rib from his side, and from it made a beautiful woman. When he woke his feet were no longer stone, but strong with vigor, and at once he started down the mountain; but scarcely had he taken the first step when he saw before him the lovely woman who was given to him for wife. The Great Spirit now directed the couple to the foot of Tacoma, where he had planted a garden, and in this paradise he commanded them to abide and replenish the world.

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