m- /% mmttx ¦ YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Gift of EDWARD LBA MARSH, JR. Yale 193 1 K. WffluW"? JlL oi 9Mbi Fireside . Sketches OF SCENERY AND TRAVEL * O, blessed that child of humanity, happiest man among men, Who with hammer, or chisel, or pencil, with rudder, or plowshare, or pen, Laboreth ever in kindness, through the morning or evening of life, To cheer and enliven the hearth-stone — to still the wild waters of strife. THE CENTRAL MANUFACTURING CO. BATTLE CREEK, MICHIGAN 18 90 Copyrighted 1890, by THE CENTRAL MANUFACTURING CO. (ONTENTS PAGE. ' , PAGE. Acapulco 46 How Good Children Go to Bed . Fannie Bolton \i/l Alaska 47 How Naughty Children Go to Bed Among the Icebergs Capt. Joseph Bates 95 Fannie Bolton 175 A- New Brood Fannie Bolton 165 Arctic, Birds and Animals Eva Bell Giles 66 Inquisitive Jumbo Fannie Bolton 167 Arctic Lands and Peoples Eva Bell Giles 74 Arctic Seasons, The Eva Bell Giles 56 Autumn Hood 170 Keep on Trying 162 Lamp-Light Amusements . . . 180 Land of the Midnight Sun 99 Beautiful Thing, The Fannie Bolton 177 Bell of Justice, The Egbert L. Bangs 165 Midnight Sun, The Eva Bell Giles 58 Better. . Moses Gage Shirley 169 . Block Letter, The. . . . ' W.J. Fairfield 189 ' No RoOM F0R °LD MoTHER ; " ' ' lS9 Object of Polar Research Eva Bell Giles 54 California Big Trees' Rev. J. H. Waggoner 15 Old King Winter's Song 156 Children '. A. R. Watson 162 Our Pearl Mary Steward 173 Chinese in California, The Rev. J. H. Waggoner 23 Rip Van Winkle Christmas Sheaf, The Fannie Bolton 167 Adapted from Washington Irping 149 ' Columbia River. Rev. J. H. Waggoner 32 Robbie's Goat Team S. Isadore Miner 178 Crows' Council, The S. Isadore Miner 154 Rudiments of Drawing W. J. Fairfield 182 Ruined Nest, The S. Isadore Miner 170 Dip in the Brook, A ^S1. Isadore Miner 173 Salt Lake City Rev. J. H. Waggoner 39 Do Thy Little 162 South Sea Islands Fannie Bolton 115 Such Fun 176 Falls of the Yosemite, The Summer Quarters lfi8 Rev. J. H Waggoner 9 First Settler's Story, The.. Will M. Carleton 152 Truants, The Mrs. L. D. A. Stuttle 162 Frightened Kittens, The '.Fannie Bolton 169 Frozen North, The Eva Bell Giles 53 Volcanoes and Earthquakes 91 Warfare in the Ocean 163 General Grant in Siam . .Rev. J. H Waggoner 19 What Next ? _. .Fannie Bolton 173 Gentle Words 162 What Two BoYS DlD Eben E. Rexford 158 Glaciers and Icebergs Eva Bell Giles 62 Whq Are You ? ." . . . _Fannie £ol(on I?I Whom Shall We Thank ? 179 Historical Sketch of. Arctic Discovery Winter Quarters 168 Eva Bell Giles 83 Honest Old Toad, The . . Nellie M. Garabrant 175 Zambesi Falls, Africa 97 5 Illustrations. page. The Old Mill Frontispiece Scenes in Yellowstone Park 7 El Capitan, Yosemite Valley 8 Bridal Vail Fall, Yosemite 9 Yosemite, or High Falls 10 Nevada Fall it Vernal Fall 12 Up Vernal Falls 12 Mirror Lake, Yosemite 13 Section of Big Tree , 16 Picnic Tree 16 Big Tree of California 17 California Redwood 17 Building for Cremating the King of Siam... 18 Great Tower of a Temple in Bang-kok 20 Street, in Chinatown, San Francisco 22 Chinatown, Foot of, Castro St., Oakland, Cal. 25 Chinese Opium Den 26 Interior of a Chinese Temple 28 Chinese Worship in San Francisco 29 Interior of a Chinese Restaurant 31 Cape Horn, Columbia River 35 Mr.. Hood and Portland, Oregon 37 Salt Lake City 38 Temple and Tabernacle, Salt Lake City .40 Early Days of Salt Lake City 42 Fort Douglas and Red Buttes Canyon, near Salt Lake City 43 Brigham Young 44 "Royal Gorge," Grand Canyon of the Arkan sas 45 Map of North America : 49 Map of North Polar Regions 50 Crew of the "Hansa" Dragging their Boats across the Ice 52 Caught in the Ice 55 Advent of Spring in the Polar Regions..... 56 Return of the Arctic Birds 57 Moonlight in the Polar World 59 Aurora Borealis 60 PAGE. Midnight Sun 61 Snow Crystals 62 Ice Flowers 62 Icebergs and Aurora Borealis 63 Among the Bergs — A Narrow Escape 64 Among the Pack-Ice 65 The Auk 66 Puffins 66 Bird Bazaar in Novaia Zemlaia 67 Haunt of the Wild Swan 68 Fight between a Walrus and a Polar Bear. 69 Seals Sunning Themselves on the Ice 70 Face to Face with a Polar Bear 72 A Fox , Trap 73 An Eskimo Family 75 Eskimo Village 76 Eskimo Seal Hunter 77 Eskimo Dogs 78 Sledging in Lapland 80 Kamtschatkan Sledge and Team 82 The Breaking up of the Ice 84 Discovery of the Cairn Containing Frank lin's Papers 89 Saved! 89 Bay of, Naples 91 Eruption of Vesuvius 93 Among the Icebergs 94 Falls of the Zambesi, '^Africa 96 Map of Sweden and Norway 98 Midnight Sun from North Cape 99 Jolster Cascade, Norway 101 Locks in the Gotha Canal, Sweden 103 Upper Falls of Trollhatta I04 Lake Mjosen and Ruins of Hamar Cathedral 105 VoringfOs Xo7 A Wedding. Party io8 Geiranger Cascade ' lc>9 Fishing for Salmon IIO Troldtinderne, in Romsdalen m North Cape 1I3 PAGE. Map of Oceanica 114 Coast Scenes 115 Coral Reef 116 Kakahi Falls, N. Z 117 Coral Reef Overgrown 118 View on Whitsunday Island 118 Coral Grove 119 Shaddock Tree 120 Banyan Tree 121 Pitcher Plant 122 Male and Female Tahitians 123 Native Papuan 124 Warriors of the Samoan Islands 125 A Pah, or Fort ¦ 126 Interior of a Pah 126 Valley of the Waipio 127 Mauna Loa Volcano 128' Valley in Sandwich Islands 129 Sandwich Island Sports 130 Images at Konororaka 131 Bay of Kealakeakua 131 Easter Island 132 'Eggs and Larvae of the , Silk-worm 133 Cocoon 133 Isle of Tahiti. . . .' 134 Capital of Samoan Islands 134 View in Samoa 135 Cottage of John Adams 136 Landing Place, Pitcairn Island 136 Pitcairn Island • • • 137 Lake Wakatipu, N. Z 139 On the West Coast Road ¦ : 140 PAGE. Ancient Tomb 141 Maori Family 142 Maori War Dance 143 Auckland, N. Z 144 Wai-au-au River 145 Volcano of Auapehu 146 Rip Van Winkle 148 Log Cabin of Early Settler 152 Crows 154 Winter Sports 156 Snow Birds 157 At Home Alone 158 A Song without Words 161 The Road to, School 162 The Narwhal 163 A New Brood 164 The Bell of Justice 165 Christmas Sheaf 166 iNQuismvE Jumbo 167 Summer and Winter Quarters 168 School for Cats , '-. 169 The Ruined Nest 170 Owl and Dog. . , 171 A Dip in the Brook 172 Moonlight Scene 173 Good Night 174 Kittens 176 Babe Asleep 177 Robbie's Goat Team , 178 Necessity is the Mother of Invention 179 Shadow Pictures 180, 181 Illustrations in Rudiments of Drawing, .. .182-188 El Capitan, Yosemite Valley. JHE JALLS OF THE jySSEMITE. THERE are four notable falls in Yosemite Val- l,ey^the Bridal Vail, Yosemite, Vernal, and Nevada. As all the "trails" lead into the , valley from the lower or western end, the first to be seen is the Bridal Vail, the most beautiful of all. It is seen from the mountains west of the valley ; admired by passengers all the way down the mountains on the Stockton trail, to the north west. We camped over night exactly opposite to it on the Coulterville trail ; we slept under its lullaby, and greeted the sun at its early call. For a long time we gazed Bridal Vail Fall; Yosemite Valley — 900 Feet. upon it with a good glass, following its waters from -the top to where they were lost in the trees below. This is the only, way in which the hight of these falls can be appreciated. No better de scription of it can be given than is contained in the expressive title — the Bridal Vail. It is truly "a thing of beauty." There is a gracefulness in its flow, an ease in its motion, to which none of the dashing and splashing falls above can approach. But you may exhaust every device, and stretch your imagination to the utmost, and your first view will not be satisfactory. You cannot appreciate the hight of mountain or fall in this wonderful valley, until you have formed a better acquaintance with .them. You must climb these hights before you are prepared to give full credit to the figures which measure them. While I was exploring them, a man arrived on the stage one evening, and he was so strongly impressed with the idea that the stories of their hight were exaggerations, and that he had been deceived, that he left the valley the next morning in disgust, with out, testing the hights for himself. But with real travelers it is different. Standing in full sight of the high falls, of El Capitan, South Dome, Glacier Point, and other noted peaks, a gentleman, a foreigner, said to me: "I am acquainted with all the mountain scenery in Switzerland and Italy, but I never saw any thing as strong as this." Proceeding up the valley, past El Capitan, you come to the settlement, where man has provided for our accommodation. Here are hotels, the store, the grocery, the photograph ' gallery, the telegraph, the school-house, and the meeting-house ; provision for , all our wants. But we turned away from them all ; we avoided the presence of man ; we camped out. We came to enjoy and admire Nature in this her grandest temple. The settlement is located exactly oppo site the high falls, the unrivaled Yosemite. From the point where the water leaps from its channel at the top, to the valley, is 2600 feet, perpendicular. To climb this, a detour is made to the west (left of the view in the picture on the next page), where a zig-zag trail brings you to a natural pass along the mountain side nearly on a level with the foot of the upper fall; When the water is low, you can go to the very 9 you the foot of this fall ; when it is high, you might as well try to explore the inner mysteries of the cy clone. The mist "materializes" around you; the winds rave like a hurricane,; the noise is bewil dering. All this commotion is caused by the fall ing waters ; beyond the reach of their influence all is calm and peaceful. The rock to the left is perpendicular, and of dizzy hight. Another zig zag trail carries you, between the spurs of the mountain, to the top of the fall. The stream has a rapid current, and cannot approach water at the fall nearer than to where the, last tree stands, as the rock is steep, and there is a natural tendency to sway over with the dashing wa ters, and one must not venture too far. The! upper, or high fall, is a great won der in itself. When the snows are fast melting, there is quite a respectable body of water, making a fall of one thousand six hundred feet. It does not break over the edge of the rock, as some falls do; it rushes and leaps over, as the passage above the fall is very steep. As the waters shoot out, they often inclose the air under their folds, and as they join the body farther down, the air breaks through with a loud report resembling that of a small cannon. These sounds greeted our ears at intervals all night long. In the sunshine, viewed from below, these projecting sheets, or rather jets, of water take the most graceful forms, and when they are at the proper hight to give the reflection, they take on the colors of the rain bow, and these hues follow them in their circlings, so that the rainbow itself assumes fantastic shapes. It must all be seen to be realized or appreciated. "The second fall, 400 feet." So says the legend, and so the picture almost makes it appear. It wm^gMpMf&ffl^^z Yosemite, or "High Falls," — 2600 Feet. 10 seems a pity to spoil a tradition so well authen ticated, but as I am bound to tell the truth, it must be done. The " second fall," so called, is a myth — a nonentity. True, the perpendicular dis tance from the top of the high fall to the valley is 2600 feet ; but in this there are but two real falls, together falling a distance of 2200 feet. The intervening water-course between the upper and lower falls, makes a descent of 400 feet, in a series of cascades and slight falls ; but the hori zontal distance trav eled by the stream in making that descent is many times 400 feet. The actual dis tance from the foot of the upper fall to the head of the lower, I do not know. I sup pose it has never been measured, for Mr. Hutchings himself could not give me the desired information ; and what he does not' know about Yosemite Valley is not known ! One opinion we will venture : if the reader had to travel it, over the rocks and through the tangled " chap- parel," he would de-' cide that it is more than a day's journey. It appears to be un approachable. "How d o|, you know.—the reader may ask, "if you did not approach it ? " Eas ily enough. The trail to the foot of the high falls shows that there is considerable distance be tween the two falls. Besides this, I will give as good a solution of the matter as any one can give. The crooked, to-and-fro, stair-way-like trail to the Glacier Point lies nearly opposite the high falls ; the falls are in sight nearly all the way up. Anxious to take the best observations, I started out early, a full hour and a half before the guides start out with their parties. Having an excellent ship glass, I looked at the opposite mountain from every angle and every elevation. The streams were at their highest, and showed to the best ad vantage. I could see the stream between the falls in many places, winding its way among the trees and bushes, always rushing, dashing, foaming, as it made its way over its rocky bed ; but there was no fall worthy of the name in this valley. In a similar manner the Merced River rushes in a con stant foam from the foot of Vernal Falls to the valley, descending a thousand feet or more. But who ever thought of calling it a " fall " of a thou sand feet ? Standing anywhere in the Valley where the Yosemite Falls can "be seen, the distance be tween the upper and lower fall is not appreciated. It appears to be too slight for notice. But the water-course between the two is not seen at all. The visitor to the Yosemite, following the trail, gets no sight of this part of the stream. The only view is from the Glacier Point trail ; and I doubt if any man ever viewed it more carefully and thoroughly from every possible point of observation than I did. You may rest assured, dear reader, that you have now heard the truth—" The second fall is a myth." The Yosemite and Bridal Vail Falls are on "side issues." They are on streams of their own names. But the other two — the Vernal and Nevada — are of larger volume. The Merced River, quite a large stream when the .waters are high, leaps over these passes. The Nevada, Fall is farthest up, being at the extreme south end of the valley. The valley takes a turn just where the settlement is made, the upper part lying nearly south and north, and the lower part about as nearly east and west. The Nevada Fall is 700 feet in hight. Leaving the rocks above in a regular form — as fair as the starting of the Bridal Vail — it appears to strike a slight bench, not far down, which throws it out into a broader sheet, and greatly increases its mad and foamy appearance. No one who has not vis ited it can imagine what is the effect of such a body of water falling 700 feet. The dashing spray sends rainbows whirling in every direction, which seem to break up and scatter in pieces faster than they can dissolve. Rainbow tints were all around me, dashing in every passing gust,, flying in my face, resting upon my eyebrows. The atmosphere was besprinkled with glory, altogether indescribable. I tried in vain to get near to the foot of the fall. There appeared to be no obstruction but that formed by the fall itself— the fierce commotion of the elements. Immediately to the east of this fall is the Cap of Liberty ; a mountain peak 4000 feet above the valley. It is seen in the next picture. Between the fall and this mountain directly behind the trees in this picture, is the trail leading up the mountain to " Cloud's Rest" — the summit of the Nevadas. I have anticipated, inten tionally. Let us now take our start from the settlement, and follow up the Merced River. For some distance it is a peace ful stream. No one would think that it had just come from such boisterous and ex citing scenes. Gradually its placidity' is lost ; it is soon rushing from the rocks, tum bling and foaming con tinuously. Leaving it a little to our left, we come to " Register Rock." Thus far a wagon' track reaches. . But here the pony trail com mences, and here the toll-gath erer formerly had his station. The trail makes a turn to the right, farther from the stream, as near the stream, climbing is impossible. To the left, along the river's side, is a foot trail, leading to the foot of Vernal Falls. My companion Nevada FALL^-700 Feet, chose to take the ponies, while I elected to travel this part on foot, and go directly to the falls. A little way, and the path led to and over a smooth rock, lying at an angle of (probably) forty-five degrees, into which iron pins were set and narrow boards laid thereon, for a path. It is of considerable length, and at considerable distance above the river. It is not difficult to pass over, but one must have a steady nerve and a level head, for a misstep would certainly land him in the raging stream below. The most expert swimmer would stand no chance 11 for his life in a current so rapid and a river-bed so rocky. The Vernal Fall is only 350 feet high — an in considerable hight in these parts. But you can Vernal Fall — 350 feet. approach nearer to it, and therefore can more easily realize its extent and power. When I stood as near to the foot as I could approach, the sun was at the exact angle in the heavens to show a most vivid rainbow across the river. Its beauty was hightened by its nearness, for the river was not very wide between the rocks. Stepping back ward, the bow was lengthened to my view. It retained its position beyond the river, while the ends rested on the water. A few steps farther back, and it had climbed the rocks to my left, the fall being to my right. Continuing to step back ward, I found that it was passing from a bow into, a circle, which was very near the place where I stood. Still receding, it was at my feet, on my feet, as clear and deep in color as it was over the river. Reader, I can write and read this in com parative coolness and quietness, but this was not the state of my feelings in this experience. As I took another step, the perfect circle, rich and in tense in color and clear in outline as any rainbow I ever saw, rested upon my extended arms and in my hands. It was one of the most exciting moments of my life. I was drenched with the spray which was dashing violently against me ; but that I did not heed. I have many times been drenched with water, but the experience of that hour was the one of a life-time, — one which I do not expect to ever have repeated. When the Lord gave to Noah a sign that he would not again destroy the world with a flood, he said : I do set my bow in the cloud." Gen. 9: 13. When John had a vision of the glory of Heaven, and of the throne of the Most High, he said : " And there was a rainbow round about the throne, like unto an emerald." Rev. 4 : 3. Eze- kiel also had visions of the throne of God, and he said: "As the appearance of the bow that is in the cloud in the day of rain, so was the appear ance of the brightness round about." Eze. 1 : 28. Thus there was a peculiar significance in the words of Jehovah calling it " my bow." It belongs to the very throne of God, and so I felt, while the brilliant hues Iky upon my arms, that I was grasp ing in my hands the very radiance of Heaven's glory. If any other visitor to the Yosemite was ever favored with such a view, I never heard of it. But I could not long remain, and I knew that, with the change in the position of the sun, it would soon fade away. The bow might longer remain, but the circle would not. So I prepared to ascend to the top of the fall, for there is no other way to proceed. The moun tain south of the river is much higher than the top of the falls, and it is im possible to climb it. The ascent is made by a stairway, and its position in part ht have been indicated on picture of the falls. A good Up Vernal Falls, representation of the stairway is here given. At the top of this fall there is a wide table of rock, so gradual in its descent that one may easily walk to the water's edge, and to the brink over which the water plunges. The river is very swift in its flow from the Nevada Fall above, to near the top of Vernal Fall. Here it settles into a 12 calm, broad pool, as if the excitements of its jour neyings were over. But its period of rest is short. Suddenly it falls, and continues in its wild career until it reaches the valley proper, and then it re mains a placid stream until it nears the canyon below the valley. As to volume, compared with Niagara, all these falls are almost insignificant- But if Yosemite were at Niagara, it would not, even there, be an object to be despised. While. Niagara- falls less than two hundred feet, Yosemite would pour down upon it from a hight of more than two thousand four hundred feet above it ! Who dare say that Yosemite would not be as great a wonder as it proaches, and the surroundings become more clearly outlined, the lake resembles a body of quicksilver, it appears to be so pure and has such wondrous powers of reflection. South Dome, and the sur rounding woods, are duplicated. If you could play school-boy, and for awhile stand head, the appearance of nature to you be materially changed. South Dome been celebrated as a " pictured rock ; " but it might be, for besides many animals, we saw upon its side a clothes line full of clothes, as clearly as we ever saw one on a Chinaman's roof. And the water caught it away and plunged it down deep into its depths, as if it were not satisfied with the upon your would not has never Mirror Lake — Yosemite Valley. now is if it stood beside Niagara? There could never be any rivalry between them. Each, in its own way, is unrivalled. i Although our purpose embraced a view of these four falls, there are a few objects of special inter est which I will briefly notice. One is Mirror Lake, which is celebrated, not only because it re flects so many grand objects, but because it reflects with such wonderful clearness and beauty. Stand ing at the terminus of the road which leads to the lake — the usual place of observation — South Dome, the highest mountain in the valley, is immediately at our right. Mirror Lake lies close to the base of the Dome, and, in the early morning, when it is uniformly visited by travelers, it is as still and quiet as if it were a mirror in fact. As the sun ap- washing. I never saw a picture of this lake that did full justice to the original. A bunch of wil lows at the water's edge looked as if it were a festoon of green gathered closely in the hand, the branches showing just alike, on either side. The picture here given is one of the best I have ever seen, yet the reflection is less vivid and real than the natural view as I saw it. The second object of deep interest of which I will speak is the famous rock, El Capitan — The Captain. This is a solid rock, though an im mense mountain in itself. The reader must bear in mind that the trees in the picture are near the point of observatiqn, and he must regard the laws of perspective, and not get the idea that their hight bears any relation to that of the mountain. It 13 would probably take from forty to forty-five of the highest trees shown in the picture, standing one upon the other, to reach to the top of El Capitan. I do not know the hight of the trees, but I con sider seventy-five feet a liberal estimate for the hight of any tree in the valley. The mountain being three thousand two hundred feet high, at that estimate it would take forty-five trees and fifty feet over to reach the top of the rock. This will enable the reader to realize somewhat ' the mas- siveness of this rock or mountain. Probably there is no other mountain in the world which gives the beholder such an idea of its solidity and greatness. There are other peaks in sight which rise higher, but they are more pointed, and are broken in outline. This stands out from the range into the valley, nearly perpen dicular on the three sides which are in sight. It will always remain, in the sight and memory of every beholder, El Capitan. The best two views that I obtained of the whole valley were from Eagle Point and Glacier Rock. Better or more general views might, per haps, be obtained from other points, if they were accessible ; but they are not. The most extensive mountain view is had on Sentinel Dome, — an im mense, bare rock, which is not seen from the val ley. One look from almost any point about this wonderful place will readily show why these west ern chains were called the Rocky Mountains. I saw one object of real interest, which can be seen, probably, but a short time in any season. It was a small fall — small in volume only — imme diately below, or to the west of, El Capitan. Only when the waters are at the highest — when the snow is melting fast — is there enough water to be dig nified with the name of a fall. But a body of water which can reach the ground without being entirely dissipated into mist, from a hight of be tween 3000 and 4000 feet, deserves a good name. It was like a piece of ribbon, or more properly, of lace. Falling a thousand feet or more, it struck a curving rock, which did not break the fall or divert it from its downward course, but gently turned its front from the south toward the east, giving it the appearance of drapery gracefully ar ranged. It was a sight to be remembered, the like of which I shall never see again, which few, perhaps, see even there, and which can never be seen anywhere else. I said' I avoided men, in this valley, and sought only to commune with nature. But there is one man who may always be mentioned in connection with this locality. He is Mr. J. M. Hutchings, who has done so much to bring this valley to the sight of the world. He has associated much with the boldest, grandest scenery in nature, but his spirit is as gentle and as genial as that of a child. His gray hairs are no indication of age, for he is as lithe as a boy, and such a heart as his will never grow old. We look upon him almost as a part of Yosemite ! 14 (ALIFORNIA 2)IG JrEES. ST has been said that Californians are wont to do everything on a large scale. And it seems quite natural that it should be so. Nature planned everything on a large scale in California, and her enterprising people are only filling up the picture according to the outline presented to them. If other countries claim as beautiful scenery, as delightful climate, as lofty mountains, as extensive plains, she surely stands unri valed in having the grandest valleys, the highest falls, and the largest trees in the world. At the Centennial Exhibition in Philadelphia, in 1876, there was set up a section of a big tree which, appeared so enormous that many queried whether it was genuine, or whether it was put together of sections of many trees for the occa sion. In January, 1877, in company with a friend who was on the ground when they were cutting down the " Centennial Big Tree," I visited the spot where it stood. After an enjoyable camp in the frosty air at the foot of the mountain, we ascended some 5000 or 6000 feet in a wagon. We camped twice in the mountains before we reached the Big Tree grove. The wagon road leads to lumber mills, which are far up the mountain. Leaving this road, we proceeded on horseback over a trail, sometimes steep, but not difficult. As we neared the redwood grove, the timber increased in size, especially the sugar pines, which were large in diameter and very tall. , At first we found the redwoods scattering, and of only medium size, and the great hight of the pines rendered it difficult to form, by comparison, a just estimate of the hight of the redwoods. As we neared the summit, we found theni more numerous and larger, ranging from eighteen to twenty-five and even thirty feet in diameter. I made it a point to' visit the stump of the tree which was exhibited at Philadelphia. The tree was cut low to the ground, and a recent fire had destroyed the bark, and so marred the edges of the stump that it was not easy to determine its exact size. But from points clearly defined, I made ten steps on its surface, in a direct line across its center. Now let a man of medium size, draw lines ten steps in length across a common center, and around the extreme points draw a rough circle, and you will have a quite correct' diagram of that stump. My companion said that the bark was thirty-two inches thick when the tree was cut. That would increase the diameter of the stump fully five feet. But a dif ference of five feet in the diameter of a tree of that size appears inconsiderable to the eye. To cut the tree in two, after it was fallen, it was. necessary to have a wide space in which to work. Accordingly, two men commenced work on the top of the log, about eight feet apart, or far enough to cut out a length of fence posts ; and as they cut in with saws and axes, they split out the length between them, and thus let themselves down until the tree was cut off. The section taken to the Centennial Exhibition was sixteen feet in length ; the inside was split out, the outer shell only being taken. Of course it had to be split into many pieces, for no known means of transportation could take it in a few pieces. From the inside of this lower section, and from 1;he length taken out in cutting off the log, the projector of the enterprise obtained two thousand fence posts! , How many fence posts, railroad ties, or palings had been made from the tree I could not ascertain. About one hundred feet had been worked up when I was there. It is difficult to form any just idea of the size of these trees in the midst of such surroundings. Everything appears to be immense, and the eye, especially of a transient visitor, or one not ac quainted with such scenes, fails to make a correct comparison. To realize their size you must mount upon a tree as it lies on the ground. A log six teen feet in diameter does not appear to be very large there ; but if you stand upon the top of one, as I did, it appears to be monstrous. And then you can but faintly realize the enormous size of one thirty feet in diameter. Take this for an illustration. Look at a two- 15 story house, the posts of which may be eighteen or twenty feet in length. Then imagine a log lying on the ground beside it, the top of which is Section of Big Tree. even with the ridge of the house. You are almost startled at the thought. But that is not drawing upon the imagination at all. It is a fair repre sentation of a fact. Such a log would hide any ordinary two-story house from the sight. The accompanying picture of a man climbing up the ladder to get upon the log, is by no means an exaggeration. The "Centennial Big Tree," as it was called, was measured when it was cut down, and scaled nearly eight hundred thousand feet of inch lumber to the first limb. At one load a day, it would take a team of four horses more than a year to carry the lumber away. A certain traveler put on record his expressions of astonishment on being shown a meeting-house in California which was made of a single tree ; " from the floor to the ribbed ceiling was once wrapped in the same bark jacket." But it must be remembered that lum bermen never work up "big trees" in the Califor nia sense of the term. A log over eight feet in diameter is too difficult to handle to be profitable for lumber ; the mills cannot work them. Let us make an estimate on this tree. Putting the lum ber at the low figure of 750,000 feet, and allowing five thousand feet to the house, it would build a village of one hundred and fifty houses, sufficient for 750 inhabitants, at an average of five persons to the house. It could have easily been made into comfortable residences for 1000 people. In the same grove I saw one that had long lain upon the ground ; so long that it was impos sible to determine what had been its original size. The s.tump and the lower part of the tree were gone, probably wasted by decay and by fire. Much of that part which was left was hollow. It was deeply bedded in the ground, which had washed into the hollow, so that it was level within and without. Thus a wide floor was formed in side. On each side was a table resting upon Wooden pins let into the tree. In the center was a third table, somewhat wider than the others. This was prepared for picnics. It would accom modate large parties, as at the three tables were four rows of seats. A man rode inside of this, stood up upon his pony, and reached to the top with his gun. You can approximate the hight, by calculating how far he could reach ; and you will thus find that the log was not very large — for that place ! But liberal allowance must be made for that part under the ground. The Picnic Tree. The beauty of these trees cannot possibly be imagined by any one who has not seen them. They ascend with a perfect taper, with as much regularity and symmetry as the most skillfully constructed monument. They present very little of the variety of form found in other trees, but are uniform in their stateliness and grandeur, as if they realized the necessity of a true perpendic ular for such immense bodies. The only diver- 16 ^illl^liiw ^W&t^:^Kil AIM ^^^S flnHHi Big Tree of California. gence from a perpendicular that I observed, was in the case of two trees which rose from, the same base, and separated above the ground. ' The redwood timber has marked peculiarities. It splits even better than chestnut. I have seen thin boards, six to eight inches wide, and ten or twelve feet long, split out of redwood, with no perceptible difference of thickness the whole length. I once split a thin piece off a dry board about four feet long, and it kept its thickness the whole length. But the most characteristic feature is that it does not shrink in seasoning. . When green, it is Tieavy and full of sap, but it is very light when well seasoned. I have seen carpenters work it in inside finishing, in good buildings, when it 2 was so green and wet that stepping on the shav ings would leave a damp place on the floor. It looked like reckless workmanship, but they de clared it would not shrink to injure the joints. They do say, however, that it will shrink a little endwise. There is another tree which, in'this latitude, may also be called typical of California. It is a big tree in its own way. It is the common live oak of the plains, — the tree from which the charming city of Oakland takes its name. In appearance it is all top. Its wide-spreading branches furnish great quantities of fire-wood — the only use to which it is put. The body is too short to be of much conse quence. The tree is never sought for lumber, nor for rails, being too short to be of value forsuchnses. But the trees are beau tiful on ,the plains ; and iii the foot hills, for only there do they grow so as fully to show their beauty. A park of these, seen/ at a distance, so ex actly resembles an orchard of apple- trees, that one can hardly be per suaded that he is not nearing a farmer's home. HIS in. wife; wm ^SSlillllllllllas " California Redwood. pMtllMps Building for Cremating the King of Siam. 0ENERAL gRANT IN ^IAM- jsERHAPS some boy may ask, "Where is Siam ? " Well, take your map of the |3*3Sf world, or better still, of Asia, and we will study it a little. If your map shows longi tude "East from Washington," follow up the lines which mark the degrees until you come to " 170." Now take the line for latitude, marked "10" north of the equator. You will find that these lines cross each other in the Gulf of Siam. Trace up about four degrees north, to the extreme north of the Gulf, and you find, a little to the east, a city named Bang-kok. That is the capital of Siam. Do you know how many degrees there are in a circle, or around the earth? "Three hundred and sixty." Right ; and the half of three hun dred and sixty is one hundred and eighty. Now, how far east from Washington would you have to travel to reach Bang-kok ? " One hundred and seventy degrees, or ten degrees less than half way round the earth." Yes ; and Gen. Grant had gone nearly half way around the earth when he visited that city. Siam is a small kingdom, containing about 190,000 square miles of territory— a little more than California. It lies south of the great Chi nese Empire. The capital is in the low-lands ; so low that the people traverse the city in boats, as they do in Venice. In fact, much of the little kingdom is low, wet land. But as rice is the chief production, the wet land is not so great a detriment to the prosperity of the country as it would be in many others. Of its productions, Zell's Cyclopedia says : — " The vegetable products are sugar, tobacco,, pepper, cotton, coffee, sago, and immense quantities of rice, which may be re garded as the staple of the country. Immense forests of teak and other hard timber grow in all parts, while the value of sandal-, sapan-, rose wood, and other fancy trees obtained here, is very great. Next in abundance is fruit, which is yielded in greater quantity and of richer flavor and not in the Ne 19 than in any country of India." "The wild ani mals of Siam include monkeys in many varieties, antelopes, buffaloes, tigers, leopards, rhinoceroses, elephants, bears, and wild boars." It has many minerals, as gold, silver, tin, and antimony, and an abundance of gems and precious stones. Considering the unusual interest taken in the voyage of Grant by the great kingdoms and em pires of the world, and his anxiety to observe the resources of the great powers, it seemed strange that he should spend time, and undergo perhaps the greatest hardships of his whole journey, to visit such a kingdom as Siam. The trip from the ocean up to Bang-kok was very disagreeable. The weather was warm, or hot, and storms came up without warning. Speaking of this trip a certain writer said : " After the magnificent ovation he had received in England and ,on the Continent, the ostentatious display of this King of a potato patch was irksome." But Gen. Grant hardly considered it in that light. , He was not much affected by the " mag nificent ovation " which he had received. Indeed, he expressed himself as highly gratified with his visit to this small kingdom as with those to great empires. He went to Siam at the urgent solicita tion of the king, a young man of unusual intellect and energy. While the American visitors knew little of Siam or of its ruler, they found to their surprise that he knew all about the United States, and was well acquainted with the life and labors of Gen. Grant. It was. this knowledge of the General that made him so anxious ,to receive a visit from him. An American, who visited Siam some twenty- five years ago, wrote of his visit to a Siamese ruler as follows : " He spoke good English, and spoke it fluently, and knew how, with gentleman ly tact, to put his visitor straightway at his ease. It was hard to believe that I was in a remote and almost unknown corner of the Old world, w. The conversation was such as might take place between two men in a New York parlor. On every side were evidences of an intelligent and cultivated taste. The room in which we sat was decorated with engravings, maps, busts, statuettes. The book-cases were Great Tower of a Temple in Bang-kok. filled with well-selected volumes, handsomely bound. There were, I remember various ency clopedias and scientific works. There was the Abbotsford edition of the Waverly Novels, and a bust of the great Sir Walter overhead. There were two copies of Webster's quarto dictionary, unabridged. Moreover, the king called my par ticular attention to these two volumes, and said : ' I like it very much ; I think it is the best dictionary, better than any English.'" Such statements as these ought to convince us that we do not know more than everybody else, and that there is more of, and in, this world than we have dreamed. At the "State Dinner" given to Gen. Grant, the King made an address in Siam ese, highly complimenting his illustrious visitor, and expressing his great pleasure in receiving him in his capital. Gen. Grant replied, at some length, for him. The first part of his address follows : — "I am very much obliged to Your Majesty for the kind and complimentary manner in which you have welcomed me to Siam. I am glad that it has been my good fortune to visit this country, and to thank Your Majesty in person for your letters inviting me to Siam, and to see with my own eyes your country and your people. I feel that it would have been a misfortune if the programme of my journey had not included Siam. I have now been absent from home nearly two years, and during that time I have seen every capital and nearly every large city of Europe, as well as the principal cities in India, Burmah, and the Malay Peninsula. I have seen nothing that in terested me more than Siam, and every hour of my visit here has been agreeable and instructive." As Gen. Grant was not given to flat tery, and wasted no time in idle words, we can well believe that he was truly gratified with his visit to the diminutive kingdom. To show that the Siamese are not de ficient in a knowledge of the mechanical arts, we here give a description of a pa goda, or temple, in Bang-kok, as well as a picture of its great tower : — "Some two hundred feet high, every inch of its irregular surface glitters with ornaments. Curiously wrought into it are forms of men, and birds, and grotesque beasts, that seem, with outstretched hands and claws, to hold it up. Two-thirds of the way from the base stand four white elephants, wrought in shining porcelain, facing one each way towards four points of the compass. From the rounded summit rises, like a needle, a sharp spire. This was the tem ple tower, and all over the magnificent pile, from 20 the tip of the highest needle to the base, from every prominent angle and projection, there were hanging sweet-toned bells, with little gilded fans attached to their tongues ; so swinging that they were vocal in the slightest breeze. Here was where the music came from. Even as I stood and looked, I caught the breezes at it. Coming from the unseen distance, rippling the smooth surface of the swift river, where busy oars and carved or gilded prows of many boats were flash ing in the sun, sweeping with pleasant whispers through the varied richness of the tropical foliage, stealing the perfume of its blossoms and the odor of its fruits, they caught the shining bells of this great tower, and tossed the music out of them. Was it some dream of Oriental beauty that would presently vanish ? '' But the exterior was nothing to the interior, on which untold wealth was lavished. There are long, corridors of marble shafts, white walls, with gilded eaves and cornices, arched, lined with gold, doors of ebony, pearly gates of iridescent beauty. It is true, you will find also a great image, with out form or proportion, but the decorations are the finest specimens of art, of which the Western world might be proud." As has been said, the present king is a young man. The late king was cremated after his death. A building of great magnificence was erected for this special purpose, upon which between three and four hundred persons were engaged for a period of four moryths. Of this a writer said : — "It would be difficult to imagine a more beau tiful object than this temple was,1 when seen from the opposite side of the river. The style of arch itecture was similar to that of the other temples in Siam ; the roof rising in the centre, and thence running down in a series of gables, terminating in curved points. The roof was covered entirely with scarlet and gold, whilst the lower part of the building was blue, with stars of gold. Below, the temple had four entrances leading directly to the pyre ; upon each side, as you entered, were placed magnificent mirrors, which reflected the whole interior of the building, which was decora ted with blue and gold, in the same manner as the exterior. From the roof depended immense chandeliers, which at night increased the effect beyond description. Sixteen large columns, run ning from north to south, supported the roof. The entire height of the building must have been 1 20 feet, its length about fifty feet, and breadth forty feet. In the centre was a raised platform, about seven feet high, which was the place upon which the urn containing the body was td be placed ; upon each side of this were stairs cov ered with scarlet and gold. "This building stood in. the centre of a piece of ground of about two acres extent, the whole of which ground was covered over with close rat tan-work, in order that visitors might not wet their feet, the ground being very muddy. "This ground was inclosed by a wall, along the inside of which' myriads of lamps were dis posed, rendering the night as light as the day. The whole of the grounds belonging to the ad joining temple contained nothing but tents, under which Siamese plays were performed by dancing- girls during the day; during the night transpa rencies were in vogue." A gentleman who visited Siam not many years since, said : — "There are more than a hundred temples in the city, some of which are small and plain, but some are grand almost 'beyond description. They are ornamented with statues and gilded in the richest manner. The floor of the principal one is covered with mats of silver, and contains relics that are considered of fabulous worth, and are worshiped by thousands. One temple contains a jasper statue of Buddha ; one contains an im mense statue and ancient idol, 167 feet high, in the human form. The toes of this idol are three feet long, and the whole idol is covered with gold. This great idol has a magnificent 'temple erected ' and maintained expressly for it. It is a place where millions have bowed down and worshiped, and where multitudes still worship." The work of missionaries in Siam has, as yet, to all appearance, borne but little fruit; most of the converts are said to be Chinese, But Headly says: "It is a little singular, that while religion has made slow progress, it has done wonders in advancing the. civilization of the people, especially that of the nobles." Another says: "Even if the work of the missionaries should cease to-day. the results accomplished would be of immense and permanent value. They have introduced Christian sqience. They have made a beginning of Christian literature, by the translation of the Scriptures. They have awakened an insatiable appetite for Christian civilization." 21 Street in Chinatown, San Francisco. Jhe (hinese in (alifornia. HE writer of this, when a boy, studied Olney's Geography. In the book was a picture, which was labeled, " Chinese selling rats and puppies for pies." It was a Chinaman with the indispensable bamboo over his shoulders, and the wares of his trade dangling therefrom. This gave me my first impres sions of Chinese common life, and after a lapse of fifty years, and after observations of the Chinese themselves, the ideas of my boyhood have not been greatly modified. The Chinaman in America has become a subject of national interest, and in no part of the United States can he be seen in his native glory as he can in California. The " Chinatown of San Francisco," with its crowded alleys, underground residences and opium dens, its variety of stores, shops, and gro ceries, is the nearest approach to his huddled state in his native land that can be found in America. But you will not get a fair understanding of the habits and character of the Chinese by visiting Chinatown ; there you see but one side of his life. You must follow him to the garden, to the ranch, to the railroad, to the mines, to the lumber woods, to every place where there is work to be done, and where "dollees" may be gathered in. This subject has been aptly called "THE CHINESE PROBLEM." It is indeed a problem— a complex one — which no one can yet fully solve. After the study of a quarter of a century, the mongol in America is al most as completely an "unknown quantity" as the x of the mathematician. But everybody is inter ested in facts, and some of these will here be given. It is beyond dispute that the Chinese have done much to develop the resources of California and ad jacent States and Territories. The former possessor of California, the Spaniard or Mexican, was almost as much a nomad as the native Indian. His wealth consisted of horses and cattle ; and these took good care of themselves in the warm climate and the abundant fields of rich grasses and wild oats. Had their raising involved any labor, he would no doubt have discarded them. From the facts that the summer was without rain, and rthe inhabitants were not cultivators of the soil, United States officers decided and reported that California was not adapted to agriculture. But wherever the China man went, he did much to dispel this illusion. In this respect the contrast between him and his pre decessor is most marked. At the ranch of the Mexican are " mustang " and horned cattle ; while the Chinaman surrounds his cabin with the per- rennial beauty of a fruitful, garden. Wherever he goes — wherever water is available, either above or beneath the surface of the ground, — he makes the desert blossom as the rose. As to his home, — his house, if it can reasonably be called such, — he has less ambition than his Mexican neighbor. His resi dence is the least attractive part of his premises. HIS HOME HABITS. The "Chinee is peculiar" in many respects, and in none more than in his home, habits. Perhaps no other people can crowd so many residents and lodgers into so small a space. In the mild cli mate of California they need but little covering for the night ; and with a block of wood with a single thickness of cloth upon it, for a pillow, they will stow themselves away in tiers like dry goods on the shelves. How they breathe and live is a mystery to all observers. , But when they emerge in droves or swarms, they all come out cleanly in person and clothing— something that I never saw accomplished by any other people crowded together. A certain writer remarked that the peculiar color of the Chinese was attributable to the fact that they never washed themselves! 'This writer had never seen them as they are seen in America, or else he was trying to vie with Gulliver in his state ments. A lady in San Francisco told me that she had learned to respect the Chinese from observing their morning ablutions. She said she never knew any other people to use so much water, and wash themselves so thoroughly. A traveler, who ob served closely and wrote accurately, said: "China town is filthy beyond the Ghetto at Rome, or the Jews' quarter in Jerusalem, but in his own person John is always neat and tidy." How he keeps his person cleanly in the midst of his surroundings, is a mystery to all " outside barbarians." ANOTHER CHINATOWN. Strangers who visit the " Chinatown in San Francisco" verily suppose that they fully under stand the merits, or demerits, of a Chinese town. But that is an illusion that may be easily dispelled. The Chinatown of San Francisco was not always Chinatown. It was not built by the Chinese; they did the filling in, and they did it effectually, but it was once a part of American San Francisco. We will give you a view of a Chinese town which is "all and singular" a typical town. It was built by Chinese ; it is inhabited by Chinese ; no others have ever ventured to invade its precincts. It is located in the beautiful city of Oakland, near the bay. There was, till within a few years, a larger one in the same city, in the vicinity of Grove and Twenty-second streets; but improvements, as well as the health of the neighborhood, demanded its removal. The accompanying picture was taken especially for this book, and may be depended upon as faith fully correct. These buildings give an idea of the Chinaman's residence on the ranch, in the mines, etc. He is intensely practical, he spends neither time nor means for adornments or for vain show. And it must be confessed that such buildings are no ornament to a street, and not to be desired in any respectable neighborhood. THEIR DISPOSITION. On a certain Company's works there were said to be six hundred Chinamen employed. They lived by themselves, and did their own cooking — they always do. For several weeks I was a daily ob server of this company. They were destitute of " home influences '' — there were no women among them — yet, when their day's work was done, they played together as lively as children. But in all that time I never saw a fight, nor a quarrel, nor even what seemed to be a contention, among them. If a like record can be shown for any other people, let it be produced. But this does not prove that they will not fight. They are really dangerous enemies. They have this peculiarity : they are slow to quarrel ; they seem to be very peaceably inclined ; but when they do fight, they fight to kill. I doubt whether a Chinaman ever attacks an adversary unless he in tends, if possible, to take his life. ARE THEY SOBER? As they never appear drunken upon the streets, we might affirm that they are models of temper ance. But it is put as a question, because liquor drunkenness is not the only kind in the world. One of them truthfully said : " Whisky make China man number one fool." It has exactly the same effect on the " Melican man," only the latter is "Aixx" on the list, and does not know enough to let it alone. The Chinaman avoids it. In the observation of half a score of years of San Fran cisco and vicinity, I heard of but one Chinaman reported drunk — I never saw one. The United States Senate sent a Committee to California to investigate the Chinese question, of which Gov. Morton was Chairman. His death pre-, vented a report being made. But it was noticed that the testimony was uniformly against them in the cities, and as uniformly in their favor in the country. The following are the words of a rancher, as given personally to me. He said : " When I commenced farming here, I resolved to have noth ing to do with the Chinese. In harvesting and threshing I had to have a large gang of hands. Saturday night they all went to town and got drunk ; they lay drunk all day Sunday. Monday morning I had to take teams and bring them from the village, and but little was done that day. When I had suffered this as long as I could en dure it, I turned them off and hired a gang of Chinamen, and thereafter my work went on stead ily. They never got drunk, and were always ready for work when the time for work came." Another gave still another reason for refusing to dismiss his Chinese hands, and to accept a gang of white laborers who were recommended as steady men. Said he : "I cannot, I dare not do it. I do not care how steady the men now are ; if a re port comes that new and profitable mines have been opened in the adjoining mountains, they will all desert me, even if it is in the drive of harvest." Of course these things are steadily changing, as a better class of farm laborers is coming to the front. But the ranchers and orchardists affirm that there are quite too many " tramps " in California — " who look for work, hoping not to find it" — to make it possible to dismiss their Chinese help with safety. 24 Chinatown, Foot of Castro St., Oakland, California. OPIUM SMOKING. No ; the Chinaman cannot be called sober. He is addicted to opium drunkenness. We here give a view of an "opium den," not quite as character istic as we could desire ; but will try to make up by the description of one recently seen. Following our guide through an alley in China town, we entered an under-ground room not more than eight feet square, and perhaps seven feet high. The entrance was a narrow door, and besides this there was no opening at all: There were four in our party besides the guide, who directed us to enter and hastily close the door, as they did not believe in ventilation. Here we found several Chi namen ; one was melting the opium on a little rod, H Eks°E1 SfiR^SSife&'^KSSpiiKsgiqilaH 19 "•' -SESIaMSH H ms^M-"^^-: ¦.-.'¦isaflH 9 SsRw^aBHBPr - i^^^^^^^^p^SS^^fe^^SByKiwH psiSKB BMs^^^te^&Si^S^^S^y^^ **^£ 1^1 H^iMnPI HP* ¦-^K^'^^^MK&RKKh jw^fff^ n H^pJ^^^PHizllsjp^^/S/. jj^'^v "j fcff* j!Jfi$B!SS$!i2'x!l- ^f&i ^fc^fr' uffrajWlMti ij^§^^^^^«Rjgff^R^^ff*PM fcjlptfa BltfB^rf *5'W- ' p} TW^^MBHHBW^9lV^WaT%«fi^B jAuJ*""' Smfe^nfl M^^iJMMiB^Sll^iaml^^ ¦t 'fill iStHi Bi 1 ISi lin 1 l»H Haee ¦ehH ¦wufBMivJnraH'^HHl HI ¦ BI 181119 Chinese Opium Den. at a taper which is always kept burning, to charge his pipe. Another was just sinking under its in fluence. A third was lost in entire unconsciousness. A keeper is always present ; whether he received any of the exhilaration from the smoke we did not stay to observe. Our observations were speedily made, and we cheerfully left the room. Why they do not die in such an atmosphere, is beyond my comprehension. The city has laws to restrict the smoking of opium. And here again is something beyond my comprehension. They will let men get drunk and abuse and disgust every one on the street, and maltreat and starve their families ; they will let men puff their filthy tobacco smoke into the faces of inoffensive people, and of gentle ladies, on the street, in the car, and in almost every place where people congregate ; yet if men or women are found smoking opium in a secluded place, where no one can be offended with the effluvia unless be seeks the place, they are arrested and fined. Why is this ? It is, perhaps — it must be — because smok ing tobacco and drinking whisky are American habits, and smoking opium is a Chinese habit. " See ? " Close to this smoking den, and still under ground, we saw a piece of square timber, or what appeared to be such, in the midst of very question able surroundings ; and upon it were a number of rude, movable furnaces, which served for cooking places for numerous families, burrowed down there. The room was low, though somewhat spa cious. It appeared to have been used for the same purpose for a long time, and there was no opening above, nor in any direction, for the escape of the smoke. I thought that ordinary black paint would have relieved the intense, shining black of the ceiling. Still farther underground — farther from any pos sible connection with the outer world — we passed into a room, small and unventilated, where was a Chinese woman, past middle age, who over and over said : " I have lived here twelve years. I have lost my eyes." Over the latter fact we felt like congratulating her ; if she had also lost the organs of smell, she would have been better fitted to reside in such a filthy den. On the " Chinese Question " there is one and only one point on which CALIFORNIANS ARE AGREED; That is, that Chinese immigration ought to be restricted. The cry that " The Chi nese must go ! " is far from eliciting a hearty and general response. Reasons of a temporary nature may cause this cry to be heard in al most every direction, at certain times ; but there are many, in all parts of the country, who refuse to discharge their Chinese help. And this I have found to be the case with those who, for political or other reasons, publicly demanded their entire expulsion from the country. The laws restricting Chinese immigration have been construed very lib erally toward them by the United States Courts ; and this has caused great dissatisfaction in Cali fornia. But they have proved effectual, as the number of Chinese in that State has, beyond doubt, been largely reduced under their operation. 20 Local pressure upon them in certain regions of the country has caused them to gravitate toward " Flis- kee," so that visitors to the city might think their numbers were rather increased ; but such is not the case. The danger which some seem to apprehend, that they will interfere with our institutions and civilization, does not exist. They are not per mitted to become citizens ; their children are not admitted to the public schools ; therefore they have no inducements offered them to obtain, real estate. Among them are very few who are landholders. Placed Under these disadvantages, considering that money has a far higher value in China than it has in t.he United States, we cannot wonder that they carefully hoard their gains, intending to return to their native flowery land. Many wonder that the Chinese are so exceed ingly conservative. The reason is that THEY ARE VERY RELIGIOUS. Although they are mocked as pagans, the basis of their religious views and feelings is not very ' far removed from that of many who have been raised amid better surroundings. Their worship is almost entirely ancestral. They deify their ances tors. It is their belief that innovations, new ways, will prove displeasing to the spirits of their fathe-rs, who are ever hovering about them to help and pro tect them. To us it seems like obstinacy, and folly for the Chinese to reject the evident advan tages afforded by railroads. But it appears dif ferent when it is known that they fear that the noise and clatter of locomotives and trains may frighten or disgust those superior spirits to whom they consider themselves under constant obligation. And their religion is much more of fear than of love or genuine reverence. If, by departing from the customs given them by their ancestors, those worthies should become their enemies, they might thwart them in all their undertakings. The Chi nese are not so unreasonable, or unreasoning, as they appear to the outside world. Like many in more civilized countries, they are consistent with their own errors, and that is as high as they ever look. CHINESE MISSIONS. There are a number of missions carried on by the various churches in San Francisco, Oakland, and other cities, and they are" attended with con siderable success. I have visited their meetings and schools,. and found them interesting. Many deny that there are any true conversions among them. But the denial has this damaging fact to meet : it comes from those who never had a seri ous thought on the subject of conversion ! I never heard the denial come from Christians of any class. And the fact that these converted ones are faith ful to their profession when they return to China, and have to brave the formidable opposition of that country, sufficiently proves that they are genuine and very faithful. Christians. Notwithstanding they are regarded as an igno rant and degraded people, it is probably true that no people on earth can show so_ small a percent age of persons who cannot READ AND WRITE. Those who come to the United States are not generally of the upper class. They are common laborers — some affirm that they are really slaves, yet I never knew one who could not read and write, and cast accounts with speed and accuracy. There ¦may be those in San Francisco who cannot, but they must be rare cases, as it is generally con ceded that they can read and write the characters of their own language. CHINESE WORSHIP. During several years' residence in California, and in many visits to their temples, I saw worship performed only once, and in this I was more fa vored than are most visitors. It is not an easy matter to see this, as they have no stated seasons of worship, nor any general or public meetings for this purpose.- It is an individual matter, each one worshiping at his own choice or convenience. There are a number of Chinese temples in San Francisco. Because these are called "Joss houses," many suppose that Joss is the name of their god. But joss is not the name of any god ; it is the title of all their g.ods. It is the equivalent of our word, god. King and queen are not names, but titles ; George and Victoria are names. God is not the name of any being, but Jehovah is the name of the true God. In a temple which I recently vis ited, were a number of gods, or josses, most of them representing the fears of their worshipers. They were evil beings, to whom offerings were made in order to restrain their malignity ; and if they are as powerful for evil as they are horrid in appearance, the poor Chinese have good grounds for their fears ! The accompanying cut gives a good idea of a Chinese place of worship. With a companion, I entered one. We ascended to the second floor, where we found the room gaudily decorated with carved work and painting. It seemed to me that some of this carving must have taxed the patience of this proverbially patient people. Much of it was very fine, and all in emblematic figures and characters. But it was discolored with the smoke of- incense and tapers which are kept, constantly burning. Soon after we entered, several taps were given on a bell which was out of sight, back of the altar. This bell was not to call the wor- inches in length, which looked as if they had been a limb about two inches in diameter, sawed apart lengthwise. These he threw upon the floor, and marked how they fell. He then bowed his head to the floor, and prayed in a low, yet audible, tone. After this,' he took a vase about six or eight inches deep above the handle, and between two and three inches in diameter. This was filled with split reeds about a quarter of an inch wide, Interior of a Chinese Temple. shiper to his duty, but to call the attention of the god, and to notify him that he was wanted ! We were forcibly reminded of the words of Elijah spoken to the prophets of Baal, found in i Kings 18 : 27. A single worshiper was there. After procuring from the priest some incense sticks and "joss paper" to be burned, he knelt before the altar. He had two pieces of wood about seven quite thin, and probably a foot in length. On each reed, characters (writing) were inscribed. This vase he commenced shaking, and presently, to our astonishment, one of the reeds began to rise, and separating itself from the rest, fell out on the floor. He examined the characters on it, and laid it aside. This whole performance of dropping the sticks, 2S Chinese Worship in San Francisco.— Drawn from Life. praying, and shaking the vase of reeds, he went through three times. Then he arose, and took the three reeds and copied the characters from them on a piece of paper, which he put into his, pocket. This was, we thought, his charm. After this, he burned some more incense and joss paper, and his worship was ended. He then for the first time took notice of us. Bowing to us with a pleasant smile, he went out. And thus we saw in our own country, " The heathen in his blindness, bow down to wood and stone." Some think that for this he should be driven from the country. But these are not they who pity him for his blindness ; they are not Christians who are seeking his welfare. They are those who worship nothing more exalted than silver and gold, whose incense flows from a cigar, and often those who bow at the shrine of Bac chus, and whose temple is a saloon. What would be gained to our " Christian civilization " by driv ing him away because he is a heathen ? He would carry to his own land the idea that the " Melican man's Joss " made his worshipers neither honorable nor humane, and it would be yet- more difficult to reach the hearts of his countrymen with the gospel. They preserve the custom of cramping the feet of female children. The women walk quite easily, probably because they are accustomed to their condition ; but I have seen a little Chinese girl in San Francisco, with arms outstretched, balancing along as if she were walking on an icy pavement. All gave way to her, for the least obstacle would lay her prostrate. " How cruel !" says the lady whose waist is so compressed that she can hardly get her breath. The Chinese womari was right in defending their custom, as compared with that of American women. Said she : " We don't cramp the life." They dwarf the feet. American wo men dwarf the vital organs. A CHINESE RESTAURANT. Anybody may see a Chinese restaurant, but it takes a man of some hardihood to patronize one. The Chinese are unequaled as laundrymen, and they are not excelled as cooks. But if I eat the food prepared by them, I want, it to be in an establish ment where I may be assured that they do not use " rats and puppies for pies." A man said that he partook of a very good soup at a Chinese restaurant, and when he asked of what it was made, the answer was, " lats." This is their way of pronouncing "rats." But 'he said he found no fault, for it was good soup ! But, " every one to his taste." Not every one dares to venture. And yet, why not ? if a " Melican man " can enjoy a hog as a table luxury, why scorn the Chinaman for enjoying his lats ? A rat is as cleanly as a hog. But I would eschew both ; let them chew them who will. \ DIFFERENT CLASSES. It must not be supposed that, when you have explored the labyrinth of Chinatown, and have seen the Chinaman as a laborer in the various pla ces mentioned, you fully understand the Chinese. Besides what you have seen in all these places, there are Chinese merchants in San Francisco, men of wealth and of culture. Chinese students have taken the honors in American Colleges. In di plomacy their public men have proved themselves the equals of those of any nation. As a race, there is no sufficient reason why they should be hated and despised. In the religion of paganism they are unfortunate, and to be pitied ; for it is very evident that they largely lack a moral code which might lead them to a high sense of right and wrong. Yet they have customs of annually settling difficulties, and forgiving debts and injur ies, which might be copied to the profit of any people. The laborers were imported to serve the pub lic improvements, when they could not be served in any other manner. And the resources of Cali fornia' yet to be developed are beyond computa tion. But how the labor problem will be solved there no one can yet predict. We may record facts ; but we may not prophesy concerning the future. 30 Interior of a Chinese Restaurant. (OLUMBIA DRIVER TflP LMOST all young people love to study geog- 7^ raphy, because they love to learn about *s countries and places. When the young are told that they shall have a ride to some village or city that they have never seen, how their faces. brighten ! How they love to visit some mountain or river of which they have read or heard ! The uncle who can tell what he saw when he traveled in, other lands, is, always a welcome visitor among the young folks. And not only the young, but , the old as well, love' to visit new scenes, and to learn concerning those which they cannot visit. Much of the traveling that is done in this mov ing age, is done to gratify this desire to " see the world." ¦ And it is not vain curiosity which prompts to hear, to read, and to travel. It is right for us to learn a.ll that we can concerning this globe upon which we live. The Columbia is a noble river, yet I presume there is no other large river in North America of which so little is known by the great mass of the people. The North Pacific Railroad has brought many to its shores who would never have seen that country if the railroad had not been built. But a railroad does not give a favorable view of river scenery. Besides, the express train passes by a portion of the river in the night, and the San Francisco steamers leave Portland in the night ; so it often happens that the passenger sees barely enough of it to excite his curiosity. My first trip up this river was all made by daylight, and before the railroad was built. And having passed up and down it a number of times, I have had good opportunity to appreciate the river and the scenery. Now if you will take a map of North America, or of the United States, and keep it before you, it will greatly aid you in forming a correct idea of what I am going to tell you. Comparing the eastern and western coasts of the United States, you will notice a great differ ence of outline. The Atlantic coast is fringed -with inlets, bay.s, gulfs, and the mouths of rivers, while the Pacific coast is regularly and smoothly outlined. From San Diego (pronounced De-«-go), in the extreme south-west corner of California, to Vancouver's Island, in British Columbia, there is scarcely a good harbor or safe refuge from the storm, except that of San Francisco, through the " Golden Gate." Looking at the map, you may think the mouth of the Columbia River affords a good refuge from storm, but such is not the case. There is a heavy "bar" at the mouth of the river, which makes it difficult to enter, and in stormy weather, instead of offering a refuge, it is impossible for sailing vessels to enter it. "Crossing the bar" is quite an event to weak- nerved and sea-sick passengers. My first passage over it was in a very narrow propeller which "rolled" in a manner not usual even to that class of vessels. A large majority of the passengers took to their berths very soon after we left San Fran cisco, and did not leave them till we crossed the Columbia bar. The vessel had rocked all the way up the coast, and in crossing the bar it had its last desperate struggle, as if it would have one hearty shake before entering the quiet waters of the river. Everything movable had then to move, and some of the sea-sick ones took the first exercise they had had for several days. It was early dawn, and as the motion of the vessel did not affect me, I was on the upper deck to enjoy the scene and to observe the landmarks. The northern point, on the Washington side, is a bold rock which used to be Cape Disappointment ; but now the disappointment was all mine, for I learned that the Government had changed its name to Cape Hancock. With its former name, it was a sort of geographical landmark to me in my school days. On the south side the shore is sloping sand, and is low for some distance back. It is this sand-bed, running out into the ocean, and across the river, which forms the bar. Were it a rocky reef, it would not be so dangerous, for rocks can be disposed of, but sand cannot be con trolled. Several years ago a large steamer drifted 32 onto the sand and broke up< and eight lives were lost. There is little doubt, however, that that accident might have been avoided, if the person to whose care the vessel was entrusted, had been faithful. On this sand beach is situated Fort Stevens. It faces the river, and is some distance from the ocean. A sand shore is considered a very per manent one, as the waters change it but little ; but in heavy storms the water is driven up to the Fort so as to encroach upon it somewhat. Once over the bar, the vessel is in smooth wa ter. Then the sea-sick ones begin to come on deck. About seven miles brings us to Astoria, where the passengers have the opportunity to take a stroll on the land, and, generally, take a meal while all is quiet. Immediately above the mouth, the river widens out, and so strongly resembles a bay that the first navigators who entered it be lieved that it was only a bay, and did not discover that a river was there. Astoria is an old village, founded by Astor for the Fur Company. There are some new buildings, and considerable business is done, as it is the shipping point for a large extent of country, as well as for most of the salmon-canning establish ments on the river. But the village (I think it is called a city now) is very small for its age. The, principal business of the place is canning sal mon, some large establishments being located here. While we were at the wharf, a tug-boat steamed up with twelve fishing boats which it had gath ered on the river, each one having a quantity of large salmon. At Astoria the shore has changed its form, and hills lie back of the town, coyered with small fir trees. The hills .have the appearance of sand hills, but a walk up their sides shows that there is more clay than sand. All the way up • to the mouth of the Willamette (pronounced Wil- lam-et) the scenery is varied and pleasing. Per haps the effect is hightened to the- traveler in this direction, by the sudden change frorn the ocean voyage. The banks are mostly high, precipitous, and rocky, with frequent small mountain streams, some of them forming beautiful cascades as they dash down to the river. The bottom lands and islands are inconsiderable. On these, there is some variety of timber, which gives them more the a'ppearance of our eastern rivers. Elsewhere, all along the mountain sides and, on their tops, is a continuous covering of fir, which becomes rather monotonous, and detracts from the beauty of the S , 33 view. The lowlands are generally settled, but in very high water are badly overflowed. I have seen houses carried away by the flood. Kalama (accent on second syllable) is just about half way between Astoria and Portland. It is a village built on the mountain and river side, a short distance above the mouth of the Cowlitz River. It is on the Washington side, being the southern terminus of the railroad to Puget Sound. There are few settlements or villages on this part of the river ; the banks are so high and steep that, if there is any settled country back, its trade would seek an outlet somewhere else. As we ap proach the mouth of, the Willamette, the moun tains recede, leaving wider river bottoms. But the 'flood overflows nearly all of them in seasons of very high water. Almost all vessels which enter the Columbia, go up to Portland, which is the largest city in Oregon, and the principal business center for that State, and a large part of Washington Territory. It is about one hundred miles from Astoria, and twelve or fourteen up the Willamette. This river is narrow, but deep as far up as Portland. About twelve miles farther up, stands Oregon City, at the foot. of the Falls of the Willamette. Here are locks, and no vessel can go up the Willamette above this point which cannot pass through these locks. The accompanying picture gives a very good idea of the situation of Portland, and of the coun try to the eastward. The view is taken from the hillside on the west of the city. It does not, however, give a correct idea of the shipping and of East Portland. The wharves are mostly at the lower end of the city, and there vessels are loaded. Not only lumber, but a great amount of wheat is loaded on steamers and merchant vessels here. It seems somewhat strange to see deep-water ves sels coming up this narrow stream, in some places looking as if they were going through the woods, arriving from, and loading for, all parts of the world. This makes Portland a busy place ; some say it is the liveliest business place in all the Pacific coast country. Its natural situation, to all appearances, was not favorable for a business city and shipping place. Full one hundred miles from the ocean, sailing vessels have to be tugged all that distance. Although it stands at the base of a high hill, the ground was low, and the streets had to be filled in to raise them above high water. The first time I visited Portland, our steamer arrived in the night, and she did not make her landing, but an- chored in the stream. This was to prevent the passengers going ashore in the dark. In fact, they could not go ashore, for the shore was far back into the city. If they had attempted to go on shore, they would probably have been drowned, as the passage-ways were on trestle-work put up temporarily. We had to stoop to get into the hotel ; standing on a false floor we registered our names on a desk a little above our knees, and took our breakfast up stairs. But there are laws of trade which are stronger than laws of Congress. In obedience to these both Chicago, and Portland, Oregon, must be built up, and, if necessary, elevated above the natural ground. The latter, as well as the former, has, in part, been raised above its nat ural level. Portland is the starting place for vessels in all directions. Sea-going vessels never go above Port land, and the up-river steamers never go below. Therefore everything is transferred here. Leaving Portland for the Upper Columbia, we find the bottom lands, for a distance above the mouth of the Willamette, more extensive than be low. Not far above the mouth of the Willamette, on the north side of the Columbia, is Vancouver, by far the most beautiful location on the river. To be strictly accurate, we might say it is the only beautiful location on the river. Fort Van couver is just above the village. The land lies sloping toward the river, with level, or nearly level, country back of the river and fort. Not far above Vancouver the land begins to rise to form the Cas cade range of mountains. In this range, on the south side of the river, are the Multnomah Falls. A fine view of these falls is had both from the steamer and the railroad. On the steamer I asked an intelligent fellow-passenger how high those falls were. Considering them a moment, he answered, "Fifty feet." Such are a stranger's ideas of dis tance in that western country. It was somewhat hard for him to believe that they were eight hun dred feet. A nearer view is had on the railroad, the track running so close to them that express trains stop fifteen minutes to let the passengers take a good, look at them. There are two falls — the upper and lower. The upper is about seven hundred and twenty-five feet ; the water, clear as crystal, lands in a charming basin, and runs but a short distance to the lower, which is about seventy-five feet. Railroad passen gers have time to climb to the foot of the upper fall, to view the basin, and, from a rustic bridge, to look down over the lower fall. It is an exceed- 34 ingly pleasant manner fn which to break up the monotony of a ride by railroad. The mountains increase in hight until we reach the Cascades. This is the name of both the mountain range, and of the rapids of the river. At the rapids, on the south or Oregon side, the mountains rise abruptly from the river's bank, to a hight of 3000 feet. On the north side there is a valley which, in some places, is several miles in width. At the foot of the Cascades, on the north side, quite close to the river, is Castle Rock, an isolated rock which towers up eight hundred feet. It was the intention of Jay Cooke to place on its top a sheet of iron, painted to represent the Amer ican flag ; but it was never done. In a more open country it would be a splendid landmark. I have climbed rugged mountains, but as I viewed this rock, I thought that neither ambition nor curi osity could induce me to try to climb its steep sides to such a hight. I do not know that any body ever ascended it. The Cascades (rapids) are six miles in length. . A narrow gauge railroad, on the Washington side, conveys passengers and freight around them. The river is very narrow, sometimes looking like a small stream, except in its boiling and angry appearance. Sometimes the road almost hangs over it, in rounding a rocky point. It is also crooked, and the passage is not only narrow, but very rocky. Here the United States Government is build ing locks and a canal, to enable vessels to go from Portland directly to the Dalles. It is an expen sive work, as it is at the river's side, on the south, and nothing but first-class mason work, the whole distance, would serve any purpose. At the head of the rapids, on an elevated point, is an old block-house, a relic and reminder of the Indian wars. The narrow gauge railroad runs near to it. The interest in this is increased by the information given to passengers, that, "Phil ¦ Sheridan," when a young officer, was once be sieged in it by the Indians. Other houses are still standing near the foot of the rapids, which give evidence of the fighting which was done in this region. Above and near the Cascades is a wonderful curiosity. The river spreads over a shallow place, on which there are stumps of trees, evidently of fir, which shows that the land has been depressed, perhaps from a slide, as fir does not grow on wet bottoms. At the ordinary stage of the river these stumps are seen from the boat. Of course, passengers cannot examine them, but have to trust to information. I was informed that these stumps are still wood above the water, while they are petrified (turned to stone) under the water. I was also told that the State Geologist of Oregon said it is the only place in the world where such a singular combination of wood and stone is found- It is another proof — for such proof is abun dant — that complete petrifaction takes place in a short time. In this range, about forty miles from the river, in Oregon, is Mount Hood, the highest of all the peaks in that part of the country, it being about 15,000 feet high. It is a beau tiful mount, as seen from the river, or from any distant point. It rises with great regu larity, a perfect cone, as seen from most di rections. On the river it shows to better advantage than at Portland. Our picture of "Portland and Mt. Hood" gives a good idea of its appearance from the rising ground back of the city. It looks, as the picture presents it, as if it were in the neighborhood of the city. Strangers there have expressed their intention to take a " Sunday stroll " to Mount Hood and back, not doubting that it was just far enough to afford a pleasant ram ble. Its distance from the city is about forty- five miles. Considering that there is no di rect road to it, and that it is not at the edge of, but some distance in, the mountain range, the reader can judge what kind of a " Sunday stroll " these persons would have had ! It is always covered with snow, and it is a notable landmark in all that country, being plainly seen at a. great distance. On the north side of the river, but more distant, and not quite so high, is Mount St. Helens. The Indians have a tradition that the Cascade range was once entire, shutting in the waters in a large lake or sea to the east ; and that Mounts Hood and St. Helens got mad, and threw stones at each other, thus breaking up the mountains, and opening the river channel through them. It is not diffi cult to imagine that great convulsions of nat ure have wrought such changes. A company who '. ascended Mt. Hood in July, 1876, reported that a crater is found at the top, from which smoke still issues. In many sections of this country, the stones give evidence of the action of fire. As the North Pacific railroad runs on the south side of the river, there is a railroad now on either side of the Cascades. But there is little opportu nity to take observations here on the through line of railroad. Above the Cascades we embark on another boat, which conveys us fifty miles farther, to the Dalles. This is the most beautiful and interesting part of the river. The mountains are on either side, all Cape Horn, Columbia River. the way. The rocks are peculiarly bold, and pre sent an endless variety of shapes : very often they are perpendicular from the water's edge, and so pointed as to show a succession of turrets, looking much like extensive ruins of castles and fortresses. Similar formations are seen on other parts of the river, but not to such an extent as on this. The 35 picture on the preceding page gives a good idea of the general character of the scenery. Here, as in other parts, many cascades, or small falls, are seen, some of them being of considerable hight. The hills, however, decline in hight as we approach the Dalles, for here the Cascade range is ended. Arriving at the Dalles, we find a pleasant little city, doing a considerable business. Its name is "The Dalles," it being one of the very few post- towns in the country which has the article. ¦ Here the railroad takes us around the Dalles, fifteen miles. Formerly, this was the length of the road, but now it is a part of the Northern Pacific. From this point my disappointment was con tinuous. We always form some idea of a country when we hear or read of it ; and my idea of this part of the river, and of the whole country, was as far as possible from the truth. From the de scription of its rocky passes I had supposed that the river was here shut in by the mountains as at the Cascades. But such is not the case. The hills along the river, though often high, do not present the same mountainous appearance ; in fact, they are not mountains, but rocky bluffs, such as are sometimes found even in a prairie country. There is no timber in sight: The Dalles are even narrower than the Cascades, the river running be tween banks of rock, which are perpendicular on both sides ; sometimes it runs in one channel, some times dividing around rocks into two or more chan nels, yet between banks mostly perpendicular. Now the reader will probably get the idea that, as we ride along at the foot of the bluffs, the river must be in sight, as we are all the time elevated above it, and there are no trees or even shrubs to hide it. Neither do we make detours away from it, but follow along the edge of the valley, which lies scooped out below us. And yet there is much of the way in which we catch not even a glimpse of water, so deep and narrow is the channel. If you will look on the map, you will see that the Clark ; Fork, or Columbia River proper, rises in Montana, near the head of the Missouri River. It takes a sweep west and north-west into British Columbia, and then comes down through the whole width of Washington Territory, gathering the waters of many streams in its long course. The Lewis Fork, or Snake River, rises in the borders of Mon tana and Wyoming, passes through Idaho, then North, forming the East iine of Oregon, takes a circuit in Washington Territory, and unites with the other Fork a short distance above the Oregon line. Still other rivers empty into the Columbia after these two main Forks unite. And all the waters from this vast region are gathered within such narrow bounds at the Dalles', that you may look over the treeless valley (not a level plain, but a basin inclining to the center from hill to hill), and there is no appearance of water. There is no wide break as of a river bed ; it is so narrow that you seem to behold every foot of the valley. And it seems difficult to realize that the watefs gathered from so many mountains and plains, in the noble Columbia River, lie unseen almost at your feet. Near the head of the rapids the river is in sight, and there are falls of ten to fifteen feet in hight. Now I have described its usual appearance, in a low or moderate stage of water. In time of a flood it is far different. The river rises high above these narrow passes, forming a large stream in the valley. The fall is so great, and the whole valley is so rocky, that a more tumultuous stream was never seen than the Columbia is in the Dalles in a flood. Here the water will strike a shelving rock with such force as to rise and flow above the waters in other parts of the stream ; again, they bound and recoil, until the waves resemble those of an angry sea. To appreciate the Dalles you must see them in both stages of water — when it is very low and when it is very high. At the head of the Dalles is Celilo station. Formerly all passengers and freight had. to. be trans ferred here, as at the Dalles city below, from rail road to steamer, and from steamer to railroad, ac cording to the destination. Now, passenger steam ers do not regularly run above the Dalles, the railroad taking the travel. The river scenery, above the Dalles, does not resume any of the appearance with which we have become so familiar on the lower parts. There is no more timber in sight, except a few trees along the shores. The banks vary in hight, and are sometimes bold and rocky ; again they are low enough to give a view of the plain far back. The steamer ploughs along from sunrise to sunset, but navigation is really difficult above the Dalles. There are so many rocks in the river, and the current is so rapid, that it takes an expert pilot to avoid running upon them. The land immediately along the river is mostly worthless ; much of it from natural sterility, and some from the impossibility of getting water upon it. There are a few strips of bottom land, settled of course, but they are rare. Umatilla is a village in Oregon, situated on a plain. The river bank 36 slopes gently, but the land is sandy and barren. In the eastern country the land is almost always good along the rivers ; if there is poor land, it is generally found away from the water courses. But here it is the reverse ; the land is poor, sometimes utterly worthless, for a distance of from ten to twenty miles from the river. This makes it dif ficult for the farmer. Except in the places where they can reach the railroad, they have to team a long distance over a sand barren or an alkali des ert, to get their produce to the river. But the railroads have become a great relief to most of the farming country in all northern Oregon. They not only bring the produce to the river, but freight shipped to Portland by rail is saved the tedious transfers at the Dalles and the Cascades, which were formerly unavoidable. At Umatilla is the junction of the Northern Pacific and Oregon Short Line railroads ; the former going east by way of Northern Idaho and Montana, and the latter, by way of Oregon and southern Idaho, connecting with the Union Pacific in Wyoming Territory. Walula is another small village, just above the mouth of the Walla Walla River, and also just above the State and Territorial line. The line strikes the Columbia very near, but below, the mouth of the Walla Walla. Walula is in a most desolate region. It is practically at the head of navigation, and was, until the Northern Pacific railroad was built, the shipping point for all the farming country around the city of Walla Walla. At Walula, old Fort Walla Walla was built by the American Fur Company, in 1820. It was an adobe buildings and part of it is, yet standing. - The United States fort of the same name is about thirty miles from the river, near Walla Walla city. The Columbia makes an abrupt bend at the State line. The main or Clarke Fork comes from the north and north-east all the way from British Columbia. At the State line it takes a course almost directly west, forming the line between Oregon and Washington all the way to its mouth. The Walla Walla comes in from the east. On the south side of the latter stream the land is much better than on the north. From Walula to Whitman Station (the old Mission Station where the "Whitman massacre" took place), which is not far from Walla Walla, there is no land, in the sense in which farmers use the term. It is an extensive bed of alkali dust. If sage brush ever tried to grow upon it, the attempt must have been given up long ago. But in the Walla Walla val ley are numerous mountain streams, and the land changes in quality. There is a good grain-rais ing region, and in many localities fruit is produced in abundance. Above Walula there is no river travel. Be fore the railroads were built, attempts were made to navigate Snake River, but navigation was too difficult to ever become practicable. The general features of the river above Walula are similar to those below it to the Dalles. But the traveler sees very little of it after leaving Walula. The two forks unite a few miles above this place, and soon the railroad crosses the south or Lewis Fork, taking a direct north-east course. From this point it is seen by the traveler only far to the north and east — a mountain stream. ®3§jI3I jpfeisp|iiP Mount Hood and Portland, Oregon. 37 It :' Ih!BPM l^llll^iMBill Salt Lake City. 5a'lt Jake (Tjy. |0 many routes are now open across the continent "that it becomes a matter of some anxiety with most travelers, to determine which to choose. "Take the Rio Grande Route, All passengers allowed to stop pver at Salt Lake City." Thus the bills read, and our party decided to. take this route. It is a truth, that curi osity is attracted toward two classes of objects : those which are strongly recommended, and those which are earnestly opposed. At any rate, the Mormon capital is a subject of interest to all classes of travelers. Although this city takes its name from the Lake, or rather takes the name of the Lake, it is about twenty miles from it. The ground slopes all the way toward the Lake, so that the latter is in full view of the city, especially of the upper or northern part, where the ground rises more ab ruptly. The ground upon which the city stands was originally an alkali plain, bearing only sage brush. It had the appearance of a worthless desert ; irri gation has turned it into fruitful fields, and gardens of flowers. A certain traveler set it down as a blunder on the part of the Mormon leaders in se lecting a site which" would soon turn to a desert, if irrigation were neglected. But this criticism was itself a blunder. , There are thousands upon thousands of acres of the most productive land in > the world, much of it on the Pacific coast, which would be almost worthless without irrigation. The criticism would be more admissible if the author could show any garden or farm which would not turn to a desert or wilderness, if cultivation were neglected. , The Mormons were determined to settle where they could live unmolested, and to every appear-. ance at that day, they found the place in the val ley of the Salt Lake. And as to the feasibility of irrigation, the water is abundant, the descent from the mountain canyon brings it to their doors without the expense of wells or canals, which are necessary in many places where irrigation is as in dispensable as in this city. Besides this, the water is excellent for all uses. In this respect, no city could be more favorably situated. All the lands in this extensive valley, which need irrigation, may be watered by the mountain streams or by the river, called the Jordan. The city was evidently laid out with an eye to its beauty, and for convenient residences, rather than for business purposes. The streets are 132 feet wide, and any amount of shade trees along the Spacious side-walks cannot make it appear crowded, or hide the streets in a general view. The effect is pleasing ; it is certainly a beautiful city. There are few localities or houses in the city which can be of much interest to the reader, al though many would prove points of interest to the visitor. The tithing establishment, where all in the city must go to pay their tithes, the res idences of Brigham Young, and of several of his wives, are sure to be visited ; but a description would be of little interest. The chief interest of the city, and of all Mormondom, centers in " Tem ple Block," and to that we will pay our respects. The temple is not yet finished ; the walls are up full hight, and work is being' vigorously pros ecuted upon the towers. It faces the east ; , the street which it faces is called Temple Street, al though it is also known as Main street. From this, all other streets are reckoned and numbered. The Mormons say that the plan of the Temple was " given by revelation." It will have no au ditorium, or room for promiscuous assemblies; it is not intended for public services, but for the ordinances of the church. No service will be held in it to which " Gentiles " will be admitted. The lower story — partly underground —will contain an extensive baptistry. One of the upper stories will be devoted to "endowment " services. Each part will have its own special use. The building is of solid granite. To obtain this, a narrow-gauge railroad runs to the quarry in the' mountains, some miles up the valley. The walls of the lower story are twelve feet thick ; above that they are nine feet and nine inches thick. This makes a building of great weight and solidity; it was evidently made to stay. It is one hundred feet from the ground to the roof, and the towers will go much higher. It is full of sym bolic representations in every part ; there are so many that it would take a long lecture to explain him, will be submitted to gracefully, for some rea son assigned. Immediately to the west of the temple stands the tabernacle, — an object of even greater interest to the visitor. This is 132 by 232 feet in size— the length being east and west. It is one vast- auditorium, sixty-five feet high in the clear. It is considerably higher on the outside, as it takes an intricate network to support such a dome. Prop erly, the tabernacle has no walls. The dome sits upon forty-four piers, usually called pillars, but piers Temple and Tabernacle, Salt Lake City.* them all, and a very strong memory to retain them. Either between or over the windows, on the out side, one story has stars all the way around ; an other, the moon in its changes ; and another, the sun. The towers on the west side will contain, in gold colors, Ursa Major pointing to the north star. In the latter part of 1885 but one star in the constellation was visible ; the others are added as the towers progress. They expect to have it completed in five years. In this temple are centered the hopes and ex pectations of the Mormons, as it has been " revealed" that Christ will make his personal advent there when it is finished ! As the first temple was lo cated by revelation in Kirtland, Ohio, and the sec ond in Nauvoo, Illinois, while Independence, Missouri, was pointed out as the true Zion ; and all were re signed, in emergencies, for another location at Salt Lake, we may infer that any failure of the Lord to meet the appointment which they have made for best expresses their appearance and workmanship ; they are made of mason work, three by nine feet, with square corners. While the dome sits level, the piers upon which it rests vary in hight from twelve to twenty feet. This difference is owing to the descent of the ground to the west. There are twenty large entrances, each being level with the ground. The pulpit is in the west end, and the descent of the floor is exactly that of the ground, so that every entrance is on the ground — no steps being necessary at any door. By means of these. numerous wide entrances, and the entire absence of steps (except from the gallery, the entrances to which are outside), an audience of 10,000 people, which can comfortably be seated in the house, can leave the building in two minutes. The gallery is 480 feet in length, clear around, and thirty feet wide. It is peculiar in this respect : it is separate from the dome, or main building, ex cept at its entrance on the east, and toward the *Note. — In order that he may understand our pictures, the reader must consider that this view of the temple and tabernacle is from the south-east, while the full-page view of "Salt Lake City" was taken from the north. It is only the western part of the city. The temple stands to the left, east of the tabernacle (not shown). Across the street, still east, is the tithing establishment ; and Brlgham Young's resi dences are in the same block. 40 west end. It does not extend over the west side, this being set apart for the pulpits, the organ, and the choir. This separation from the main part adds greatly to the ventilation below, as the heated air rises back of the gallery, between it. and the wall. The building has no corners ; it is an el lipse. It is lighted by 300 gas jets. The sounding properties of the tabernacle are truly wonderful. Our guide took his position near the south-west corner of the organ, back of the pulpits, while we went to the extreme east end, in the, gallery, and we held a conversation with him in a moderately low tone. Those of our party who were quick of hearing, could distinctly hear him whis per. He rubbed his hand several times over his coat sleeve, and we all heard it plainly. We had heard of its wonderful acoustic properties, but it far surpassed all that we had imagined. Whether these properties were the result of nice calculation, or whether it was a happy chance which afforded them, can hardly be told unless this shall be cop ied. So many public buildings are so very defec tive in this respect, it would be of interest to al most everybody to note the result of an imitation of this tabernacle. The organ has three hundred pipes, and fifty- seven stops. The front towers are forty-eight feet six inches iiigh ; the base is thirty by thirty-three feet. It is worked by watei. The picture which we give is an excellent rep resentation of the temple and tabernacle. This view is from the south-east, the Wasatch Mountains being dimly outlined in the background. Near the south-west Corner of the block is the Assembly Hall, or Chapel, also shown plainly in the picture. It is a good-sized church building, of good appear ance. In this, the smaller meetings are held. To the right of the pulpit, on the ceiling overhead, is a representation of the first temple, in Kirtland ; and on the opposite side, of the second, in Nauvdo. On other parts of the ceiling are allegorical (or mythical) pictures of Joseph Smith receiving the priesthood from the hands of certain of the apostles ! - Directly opposite to the Assembly Hall, on the north-west corner of Temple Block, stands a plain- looking, two-story wooden building. This is the celebrated "Endowment House." Here is where "spiritual marriages" take place. But the Gentiles say that there is where the " Mystery of Iniquity" works. They who have divulged its secrets give it anything but a good reputation. Aside from this, nothing is known of the doings within, as " the saints " cannot be induced to speak of them ; and it is said that all who enter are bound by strong oaths to keep their knowledge secret. Whatever may be thought of the Mormons, or of their religion, it must be conceded by all that there was no small amount of skill and executive ability among those who emigrated from Illinois, Missouri, and Iowa in the dead of winter, and crossed the desert plains and Rocky Mountains, and planted the colony in Salt Lake Valley. It seems strange that they should, under such apparently forbidding circumstances, build a tabernacle which will con veniently seat 10,000, and in which 13,000 were said to have assembled in the Fall of 1885, so per fectly adapted to its purpose, in which every One of so many thousands can hear every word, though spoken in a low tone. Strange that they, iso lated from all manufacturing establishments of every kind, should build a complete and perfect organ, larger than any one in the United States. For when it was built there was not one in the States as large. The journey from the Mississippi to the valley of Salt Lake, under the circumstances, was no ordinary undertaking, and its accomplishment re quired executive ability on the part of the leaders, and persevering endurance on the part of the people — both of men and women. The following is an extract from Rev. Dr. Samuel Manning's article entitled " Amongst the Mormons," in " Amer ican Pictures," being an account of their journey and early settlement of the valley as given by " dne of the most prominent actors " in both the emigration and the settlement : — " It had been revealed to the prophet, and confirmed to Brigham, that the saints were to find a ne.w home far beyond the reach of the United States Government, where they should dwell un disturbed. The precise locality was unknown, and a band of pioneers, consisting of one hundred and forty-four men and four women, were sent on ahead. As they went forward, they selected suit able spots on the line of march, where they broke up the soil, sowed corn, and left some cattle, with a few men to guard them from the Indians. The rest of us were formed into bands to follow in their trail. Some had light wagons, others trav eled on foot, dragging in barrows and hand-carts what few goods, they had saved from the wreck at Nauvoo. We had to march over a thousand miles, through a country without roads and with out inhabitants, except hostile Indians, who plun dered us and killed stragglers whenever they got a chance. We were two years in the wilderness 41 WflS&B. before we arrived at the place of our promised rest. "When we arrived at one of the camping grounds prepared for us by the pioneers, we halted for awhile, reaped the corn, broke up the soil afresh, cast in seed for those who came after us, and then moved on again, taking with us some of the cattle, and leaving behind such as could travel no farther without rest. When the winter came upon us, we dug caves for the women and children, and the men did the best they could to keep them selves from freezing to death. Many died from cold, hunger, thirst, and sickness, or were murdered by the Indians. At last we reached this place. A more desolate, hopeless desert you never saw. over three hundred miles, and returned laden with the goods cast away by the emigrants who could carry them no farther, or who died, leaving them on the road. All sorts of things were brought in — bales of clothing, implements and tools of every kind, wagons, horses, rifles, revolvers. " Up to this time we had plenty of provisions, but no . money. All trade was done by barter. But now the American Government sent down troops to overawe us. They .camped up at Fort Douglas yonder, and had to buy everything they wanted from us, and to do so at our prices. When the troops were withdrawn, they sold back again to us what they did not want, and again had to do so at our prices, so that we made a Early Days of Salt Lake City. The alkali dust flew up in clouds when you kicked it. When we turned the water upon it, you would have said that it would swallow up all the water in the sea without ever becoming a bit the moister. But in a week or two we could see that it would turn out good soil after all. "About three years after our settlement here we had plenty to eat, and our crops were mag nificent. But we were as nearly as possible without clothes, and could not buy any. I was brought down to a pair of tattered pantaloons and a ragged woolen shirt; with no prospect of getting any more. Then came the great rush westward to the Californian gold diggings. Teamsters, worn out and dead beat by the toil and sufferings of the journey, were glad to barter a wagon and four fine eastern horses for a light cart and a pair of little Indian ponies. I bought a pair of pantaloons for a pail of buttermilk. All the fruit and fresh provisions we had to spare were eagerly exchanged for clothing and other luxuries. Our people went back on the trail for good thing of it both ways. , For instance, they supplied sacks, which were worth a dollar apiece, being made of the best double domestic ; we filled them with flour, for which we charged six dollars. When they left, we bought back sacks and flour for a half-a-dollar. That was n't bad trade. By this time we had got well established, and have done well ever since." The city was laid out in blocks, of ten acres each, which gave to each residence a large plat of land for cultivation. Under the influence of a mild climate and by the application of plenty of water, the soil brought forth abundantly, and the trees made a rapid growth. A certain traveler said it reminded him, " at first sight, of Damascus, which is hidden in the same way by the orchards and gardens which surround it." But that impression was, surely, only "at first sight," and hastily taken, for Salt Lake City, with its streets one hundred and thirty-two feet in width, presents an appearance as unlike to that of Damas cus as any in the world. 42 It would seem that there must have been some of the party who selected this site for their future home, who were acquainted with the nature of the soil, and of the benefits of irrigation. It is said that Bridger, the hunter and trapper, who was personally acquainted with all that country, de clared that he would give a thousand dollars for every ear of corn that was raised in the valley. One of the leading "saints," in the emigration from Nauvoo, said: "My faith never faltered, my cpurage never failed, till I emerged from the can yon looking down upon the valley. When I saw it, I said to myself, ' Can this barren, desolate spot railroad between Ogden and Salt Lake City. Tourists have an opportunity presented to them of visiting the lake, and bathing in its waters. A railroad has been constructed from the city to the lake. At the lake terminus, bath houses afford every desired convenience. As an accurate description of the lake, we copy the following from Zell's Cyclopedia : — " It is about 70 miles long, 30 miles in width, , and covers an area of 2100 square miles. Its surface is 4200 feet above sea-level. In' the mid dle of the lake, several islands rise as high as 3250 feet above the level of the water. The isl- Fort Douglas and Red Buttes Canyon, Near Salt Lake City. -be the promised land, the home of the Latter Day Saints ?'" But persevering industry turned it into a very garden, and few places in the "Far West" appear to be more desirable for a comfortable and pleasant residence than the valley of the Great Salt Lake. The original plat of Salt Lake City was made in 1847. That, part of the city which has been laid out since that time, was laid on a different plan. The streets, instead of being eight rods in width, are five rods. We must not leave our notice of this locality without saying something of Salt Lake itself. A good view of the lake is had from either railroad. The Central Pacific runs on its north border. This is low and marshy ; it is a veritable salt marsh, but the islands and mountains around it show from this road. A better view is had on the ands are nine in number ; one of them is twelve miles, and another sixteen miles in length. The water of the lake is so salt as to form one of the purest and most concentrated brines known in the world. It contains 22 per cent, of chloride of sodium, slightly mixed with other salts. This lake, in whose waters no living creature is found, receives from the south, by the Jordan, the waters of the Utah Lake [38 miles distant, south-east], which are fresh, and those of the Weber River from the north, but it has no outlet. It has been called the 'still, innocent Dead Sea;' and, cer tainly, in the quality of the water, and the wild, weird aspect of the surrounding country, the lakes greatly resemble each other. The first mention of the Great Salt Lake was by Baron La Hpntan, in 1689, who did not himself visit it, but who gath ered some notions of it from the Indians west of 43 the Mississippi. It was first explored and de scribed in 1843, by Colonel Fremont." Fort Douglas is three miles from Salt Lake City, in nearly a south-east direction, and is at an elevation of 700 feet above it. The best view of the whole country, valley, lake, and city, that the visitor can obtain may be had about midway between the city and Camp Douglas. The Mormons have no longer a monopoly of Church interests in Salt Lake City. The Bap tists, Presbyterians, Methodists, Episcopalians, and Brigham Young. some other denominations, have church buildings there. As the " Gentile " population of the city is only about 5000, it is probable that all these denominations have been aided by their several missionary societies. It seems unfortunate to have a division of church interests, but under some circumstances the division proves a blessing. Until the mass of professing Christians prove them selves to be more self-denying, less selfish and worldly, than they have since the Church first allied itself to the State, it will not be advisable to let any religious body have a strong control ling influence in the Government. Unless human nature greatly changes, we may expect to see a repetition of the scenes enacted in Utah wherever religion or religious people control the civil power. The union is unscriptural. The State gains noth ing, while the Church loses everything. It leads to ambition and worldliness, and therefore saps the very foundations of godliness. Formerly the dignitaries of the Mormon church held almost despotic sway over the country, and it was unpleasant, to say the least, for opposers of their faith, and especially for those who renounced the faith, to reside there. But the railroad hav ing made it easy to leave the city and the Terri tory, and caused so much travel to and from, and the United States having taken vigorous measures to crush out polygamy, everything is now changed. The city is now kept in peace, and Gentiles walk the streets both day and night, without fear of molestation. SCENES ON THE RIO GRANDE ROUTE. Travelers across the Continent, who wish to visit Salt Lake City, must take the Rio Grande Route, unless they are willing to stop over at Og- den and take a run down to the city. Many used to take that course ; but since the scenery of Central Colorado has been opened to the public by the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad; that route is now generally taken . by those who wish to visit "the city of the saints." While this subject is, before us, we will briefly notice three points of interest on this route. Going from west to east we cross the Wasatch Mountains at an elevation of 7464 feet. After leaving this range the scenery possesses no special interest until we reach Cimmaron. Daylight was just breaking upon us as we arrived at this sta tion. Before us a dark mass loomed up against the sky, having the appearance of a monstrous rock without an opening for our further progress. And it was indeed a rock, into which we ran through the canyon of the Cimmaron, which, a certain writer says, " is so very narrow and ' dark that it deserves no better name than crevice." But a huge crevice it is ! Its dark appearance is ow ing partly to the black color of the rocks, and partly to its being so very narrow, and the rocks so high and perpendicular. Little did the first explorers think that a railroad train would ever crawl through the sinuosities of this narrow de file. This canyon soon runs into the " Black Canyon of the Gunnison," which retains the same general appearance, only it is somewhat wider, as a larger stream passes through it. These canyons seem to be made expressly for use, as their width is graduated to the amount of water that has to pass through them ; and there is no room wasted. The 44 rocks are dark, and impress the beholder with an idea of their solidity and heaviness. They who have visited, the Yosemite Valley will best realize the difference between these rocks and those of most other canyons, by likening them to El Capitan as compared with the peaks on the opposite side of the valley. The train whirls and fairly twists through the narrow gorges, where the way seems continually shut up before us. The passage is so narrow and crooked that we appear to be entirely shut in, as we can see but a short distance either before or behind us. In some parts of this canyon, however, there is variety enough to be pleasing to the view. Especially is this the case in that part where stands the "Currecanti Needle," a mountain of rock terminating in a point, appearing almost iso lated from the mountain as viewed from different, points of observation. Here, the rocks on either side are less dark in appearance, and more broken, than those farther below. Passing the plain on which Gunnison City is situated, we come to Marshall Pass, in some re spects the most interesting piece of mountain climbing by rail that is found in America. This Pass presents a rare and most extensive view of mountain scenery, as well as a great feat of rail road engineering. Turning in every direction, making abrupt curves to take advantage of the shape of the mountain sides, on a grade of 217 feet to the mile, two locomotives keep the train moving steadily upward, until the summit is reached at an elevation of 10,858 feet — an unusual hight for a railroad' station. Not far from the station a snowy peak looks down from a hight of 3000 feet more. The view here is not of canyons and rocky points, but a grand, magnificent sweep of mountain ranges. The snow sheds are short, offer ing no serious obstruction to the view. At one point we could look back over the way we had ascended the mountain, and see six railroad tracks below us at different elevations. Having safely arrived at this great hight, and looking down the other side of the mountains, many of the passengers expressed their fears about the descent ; for on this side the road is as crooked !as on the other, and the grade is the same— 217 feet to the mile. But all fears were soon dis pelled ; the faithful air-brakes held the train under perfect control, and we descended about as slowly as we ascended. This was necessary, for no hu man power or device could stop a train on such a grade, if it should once get under motion at high speed. But the motion was so steady that the most nervous soon felt at ease. Not far from the base of this mountain we" came to the Arkansas River, and soon entered the "Grand Canyon of the Arkansas." And it is well worthy of the name. It is grand beyond all de scription — beyond all conception. At least, no one who is not acquainted with Colorado scenery "Royal Gorge," — Grand Canyon of the Arkansas. and canyons can have any conception of its mag nificence. That rivers should ever find such out lets is a standing marvel. The whole passage is narrow ; the river is a torrent ; the rocks rise ab ruptly from the water's edge and tower thousands of feet over our heads. Each turn presents some new form of projection, and the interest and the wonder' is constantly on the increase. At the "Royal Gorge" we first saw a bridge running par allel with the river over which it is suspended. The water runs at the base of the solid rock, which 45 rises perpendicularly far above it. No ground and no loose rocks are there on which to build the track. To blast a track in this rock would fill up the gorge below, and endanger the track for a long distance. The engineers dug mortices into the rocks on both sides of the river, and erected an arch over it. This arch is made to sustain the bridge, which nestles close against the face of the rock, and bears the train around the point, to where a track can be made. Thus it is a bridge landing us on the same side of the river from which we entered upon it ! Our traveling companions asked us if Yosemite Valley is equal to the Grand Canyon of the Ar kansas. Our answer was, They are so unlike they cannot be compared. No doubt they are both unequaled by any place accessible to travel. The mountains at Yosemite are higher, and the falls are wonderful. The grandeur of the Canyon of the Arkansas is realized because of its narrow ness. Were it half a mile wide it would present a quite different appearance. Both are of surpass ing magnificence, and fill with delight and awe the reverent soul who " looks through nature up to nature's God." a boarding house is unknown A capuJco. I OURTEEN hundred miles from Panama and eighteen hundred miles from San H?r Francisco, lying between the two, in the State of Guerrero, Mexico, is Acapulco, a seaport town of about 4,000 inhabitants. It possesses one of the finest harbors on the Pa cific coast, and at one time, during the Spanish dominion, was the focus of trade from China to the East Indies, and a place of considerable importance. Coming in from sea you pass through a very narrow and crooked channel, and find yourself in a hole in the mountains where the swell of the ocean or strong winds never enter, but there is always a light breeze in the afternoon or evening. During the dry season, which lasts for six months, when one day is like another without variation, from nine o'clock in the morning until two o'clock in the afternoon the sun shines very hot, and people generally keep in-doors. What work is performed is done in the early part of the day and evenings, but it amounts to almost nothing ; indeed, the only labor I have seen performed was that of the washer-women, and as the women never wear anything but a sack and skirt, not much is re quired of them. Such a thing as in Acapulco. the first thing all foreigners do when arriving here is to rent a house and get a native cook^ The houses are only one low story high, built of poles about the size of those used by coopers, with an occasional one four inches thick to support the roof. The poles are stuck in the ground as closely as convenient, and are stayed by poles around the sides, tied on with strings of rawhide or bark, and so firm are they that it is about impossible to shake one down. Poles are used for rafters and ribs, and the whole covered with grass or palm leaves, excepting the space of some four feet from the ground up. These buildings are airy ; as, of course, the breezes pass through at will. They stand in rows and not far apart, indeed, often several are joined together. If fire should get loose, the whole town would go like a powder house, as everything is as dry as tinder ; but conflagrations are not known, a wonder when we consider that they have no stoves or fireplaces, and all their cooking is done on a platform of poles with some dirt on them, say two inches thick. They use no iron ware, earthen vessels constituting their entire outfit. They fry, boil, stew, and bake in these clay utensils, and use the same for carrying water and for other purposes of like character. The Mexicans appear to enjoy life, as nature provides bountifully for them without toil. The men dress in white cotton clothes, and at night roll up in blankets or shawls and lie under trees or anything that will protect them from the dew. From a rough estimate I should judge that every Mexican owns about one hundred hogs and at least half as many dogs, and every one of these, by regular rounds,, passes through my house fifty times a day, and as I have no place to set things except on the ground, it is consid erable of an annoyance to one who takes so much pride in the arrangement of his domestic affairs as myself. Such bathing facilities as are afforded here I never saw before. There is never any surf, and the Water is just the right temperature. A fine, sandy beach, a creek of fresh water going in, so you can have salt or fresh water at pleasure. At Panama the tide rises eleven feet, while here it never rises two feet — hard on the moon theory. The whole country is volcanic, and all the way up from Panama we were in sight of smoking peaks, and sometimes a half dozen were in view. 46 _5\laska. HEN Alaska was purchased by the United States, some were inclined to laugh at Mr. Seward's "purchase of an iceberg." But if the time shall ever come that our Government causes that territory to be explored and surveyed, and encourages emigration in that direction, it will be acknowledged that it was a very profitable in vestment. It was purchased in 1867, and cost us $7,200,000. If you were asked, Which is the largest State or Territory in the United States? most of you would answer, Texas. Before Alaska was pur chased, that answer would have been true. Texas contains 262,290 square miles ; but Alaska, with the islands connected therewith, has an area of more than 500,000 square miles. " Since Alaska was ceded to the United States, considerable information has been collected as to the resources of the less sterile parts of the coun try ; but the central and northern parts of this region are only known as being the inhospitable home of some wandering tribes of Indians and Eskimos." The impression is generally received that Alaska is a very cold country, because it is so far north. But that is not so. Sitka, or New Arch angel, is just about thirteen degrees north of Augusta, Me. ; yet the temperature is never much below freezing in Sitka. Geographers draw lines called isothermal; this means, equal heat. These lines are very crooked ; they do not follow the lines of latitude. The line of latitude which runs through Seattle, or Puget Sound, in Washing ton, runs some distance north of Quebec, in Canada ; but the isothermal line (that is, the line of equal heat) running through Seattle strikes the Atlantic Ocean on our southern coast, as the cold in Seattle is inconsiderable. So with Sitka. Its isothermal line is very far south of its line of lati tude on the Atlantic. But some parts, of Alaska are very cold, for its northern boundary is the Arctic Ocean. " Alaska will never have any great agricultural value. From the great amount of rain and the want of heat, cereals grow, but will not ripen, and vegetables do not thrive. Native grasses and ber ries grow plentifully, but the chief wealth of the country is in its vast forests, in the furs of its wild animals, and in the fish with which its rivers and seas abound." The purchase of Alaska made some wonderful changes in the map of the United States. Before its purchase, San Francisco was nearly at our ex treme western line. But now San Francisco is nearly in the center of the United States, measuring east and west. That is to say, the western line of Alaska is nearly as far west of San Francisco as San Francisco is west of Boston. The young peo ple will find it very interesting, as well as instruc tive, to study the isothermal geography of our country, and to study the geography of Alaska. The following facts in regard to missionary operations in Alaska are abridged from an article by Mrs. Eugene S. Willard, of Juneau, which appeared in the Alaskan of November 30, 1889 : — The Protestant mission in Alaska, before the United States bought the Territory, was that of the Lutheran Church, supported by the Russian Government. This station was established in 1845, at Sitka, not for the natives, but for the Swedes, Finlanders, and Germans in the employ of the Russian-American Fur Company. Its support was withdrawn when the transfer of Alaska to the United States was made, and the minister returned to Europe. Then the meetings ceased. Ten years passed before America's Christians took up the work of evangelization in this vast territory. In August, 1877, the Rev. Sheldon Jackson, D. D., of the Presbyterian Church, visited Alaska, and planted the first mission at Fort Wrangel. Through his instrumentality, largely, six different denominations are now engaged in this work among the natives, and, with but one or two exceptions, have followed the wise plan of 47 settling remote from each other, that each might work to the best advantage. At a number of these missions there are homes, or industrial schools, for native children ; both boys and girls are received as pupils, fed, clothed, cared for, and taught by the missionaries. These homes are supported entirely by the churches in the United States. At Sitka is located the only industrial training- school in the Territory. About 180 pupils have been in attendance the past year. They are received as apprentices, bound to remain until they are of age. As soon as the boys in the home have become domesticated, and have learned to speak, read, and write English, we like to have them go to the training-school, in Sitka, to learn a trade. Three of our first Chilkat boys have been in the Sitka school for some years. They are carpenters. One of these boys, John, before -coming into our home was a slave, as so many orphans are in this country. He had a great longing to go to church, and to school, and had come several times after his mas ter had forbidden his entering the mission housed At last, one stormy winter day, he came to us and told his story. He had heard of the Saviour, he said, and he wanted to know more of God ; he wanted to learn to read his book ; so he had run away from his master, and — wouldn't we take him in ? We told him that we had no means of protecting him from the people's talk ; but if he could endure that, and stay in spite of their threats, we would not allow them to drag him away. He declared that " his heart was very strong to stay, and their talk could not move him." Before many hours his pursuers came in • numbers, crowding into the house like hornets, and there was a stormy time. They would have dragged him out and beaten him without mercy, but that calamity was averted long enough for the boy to slip put of the room, and none of us, friends or enemies, saw him again for two weeks, when his master left the country. Then John came out from his hiding-place a free boy, and oh, what a happy and thankful one ! He had been hidden, succored, and saved by our noble Ann. Ann was about sixteen years of age, the eldest of our home girls, and possessed wonderful strength of character, so that when she became a Christian, she was as a rock, immovable in a righteous cause. She knew no fear in' the way of duty ; and in this case she took no thought for her life. I afterward learned that she had conducted the boy through the back halls and stairways to the gabled attic, where she kept him concealed until danger was past. After each meal she would come to me with, " Mother, may I have more bread and beans on this plate ? " and with the desired permission she disappeared, and I asked no questions, for conscience' sake. But her friends in the village suffered through the suspicion cast upon her, and determining to clear the honor of their tribe, they joined the boy's enemies, and came to the house in a body, demanding the girl. When told that the people, angry and armed, had come for her, she simply lifted up a little prayer, and walked unflinchingly into the mad crowd, where she stood quiet and composed through such a fire as only martyrs have endured. She had brought shame upon her people, and now she must deliver up the boy, tell all she knew about him, or pay for it with her own life. Her relatives were the most violent of all. She listened to the roar of these evil elements without the slightest trace of fear, and whenthey gave her a chance to speak, she did so in almost these words : " My brothers, my heart breaks for your darkness ; your words only grieve me for this — that you do not know the love of God, and that you break his laws, and put his words under your feet. I am ready to die. You cannot hurt me by killing me. You cannot frighten me by threatening to do it. My life has been so full of trouble and pain that God's country will be very dear to me. I am only troubled for you. If you would but believe and follow this good God, how gladly I would give you my life ! " And her face shone, as she spoke, with the glory of Christ-like self-abnegation and love, while the tears streamed silently down, and her hands reached out as her heart's cry had done, toward those strong and darkly passioned men. We never could tell just how it was that,they did not smite her to the earth, as they were about to do, and drag her body out in shame. It seems to us now very like the gospel story, where " they could not lay hands on Him." She was allowed to walk quietly out of the room, and when I found her sometime after, in her own room (the crowd had gone with mutterings and curses), she was praying for her "poor dark people." Ann died only about a year ago, after a short life made long to her by great sorrow and suffering. Her last years were beautifully crowded with work for her people, a number of whom became earnest Christians. Her life and work alone were enough to pay for all the missions in Alaska, if no other fruit were visible. 48 ENGRAVED FOR THIS WORK. Xongi'tude 63 West from 43 Washington 23 ENGRAVED FOR TH18 WORK. " Hitherto shalt thou come, but no farther : and here shall thy proud waves be staid." Crew of the "Hansa" Dragging their Boats Across the Ice. Jhe Jrozen J(orth. ^O you remember the day when the teacher called you and a num ber of your school mates out to the front seat, and told you that you were now old enough to begin to study geography ; and how she wrote on a slip of paper for each of you the name of the new book which you were to have ? What a chattering there was over it at recess, and how proudly you gave that slip of paper to mother, with the teach er's message ! And perhaps she gave you an odd, quick look, as much as to say, " What ! that child old enough to have a geography ? It doesn't seem any time since she was learning to spell cat. How fast they do grow up ! " But, nevertheless, the geography was bought, a little square green book, with a pictured cover. And mother wrote your full name in it with ink, and much against your wishes, put a strong cover over the one, to protect it. But you carried and so .began to study geography. " Oh, that was a long time ago, when I was little," I hear bursting almost indignantly from the lips of some of the boys and girls who read this. Ah ! well, that was not so many years ago after all ; and perhaps sometime you will not feel so bad about being thought "little," but will like best of all memori.es to. think of the days when you were free and happy as the birds and squirrels you chased, and went to school with your bag of books and dinner pail, and were so proud of your new geography - with the green cover ! But be that as it may, I feel quite sure that! one of the ' first things you learned from your new book was that this earth on which we live is round like a ball, " spherical in shape " as the geographies say ; and that through the center, from north to south, extends an imaginary line, the northern end of which is known as the North Pole, and the south ern as the South Pole. It said an "imaginary line," but it was very easy for you to imagine it pretty green it to school, a real pole, sticking out at each end of the earth like the posts on your croquet ground ; but of course you have since learned better, and know that it is because we must have some fixed point to start from, in order to measure distances on the earth's surface, that we have the North Pole, the South Pole, and the Equator, none of which really exist but in the minds of geographers. Well, from the day of your first geography les son, you have had some idea what people meant when they talked of the North Pole, the Polar Regions, and Arctic Lands. You knew they meant the land and seas of the far north ; but though you could point them out on the map, you may have had no very clear idea about the cpuntries or the . people who dwell there. When the cold nips your fingers and ears, you have been heard to say that it was " cold as Green land ; " yet I doubt if you knew how cold it is in some parts of Greenland, or how the poor people have to live in order to protect themselves against their bitter climate, which though it seems so cheerless to us, is home to them. You have heard people talk, and have read some things yourselves, about voyages to these regions of per petual ice and snow, and the terrible sufferings often borne by those who undertook these peril ous journeys ; and you have no doubt wondered why men should choose to go to such a desolate region, when there were so many pleasanter seas upon which they might sail. Perhaps you have asked the question, and being told that they were trying to find the " North-West Passage," were no wiser than before you asked. And now it is to answer some of these ques tions and to give you a better knowledge of these marvelous frozen lands that the following pages are to be written ; for although there are many fine large books about the Arctic lands, the writers have mostly been so wise and learned that they forgot to make their books simple and plain enough so that all, both old and young, might get a clear understanding of the wonders of which they tell. 53 Object of TPolar Research. ^T a certain distance from the North Pole, geographers have drawn an imaginary m circle, which they call the Arctic Circle ; and the land and water lying within it are known as the Arctic Region, or Zone. This circle takes in the most northern portions of the three great continents, — Europe, Asia, and North America, — the greater part of Greenland, and many smaller islands. But if an Arctic cli mate makes an Arctic region, the lands justly bear ing that name extend some distance south of this Arctic Circle of the geographers. So, too, the waters lying within this circle are known by the general name of the Arctic Ocean, or Polar Sea ; but if we include all its gulfs and bays, it certainly reaches south of the Arctic Circle at many points. There are three openings, or gateways, into the Polar Sea. Two of these are from the Atlantic Ocean : one through the northern waters between Norway and Greenland ; the other through Davis Strait. The third leads out of the Pacific Ocean, through Behring Strait. From the time when Cain went forth a wan derer on the face of the earth, down to the pres ent day, there have been wanderers and pilgrims ; and as the ages have passed, this propensity seems to have grown among men. From almost every nation and clime they have seemed filled with a restless desire to sail over seas in search of some new good to themselves. Many of these explorers, though they did not find that for which they first set out, made, discoveries of far greater importance, both to themselves and those who lived after them ; and it is they that we have to thank for what we know of the far regions of the earth. Columbus sought a shorter passage to the East Indies, and he found a new world. Ponce de Leon sailed over far seas in search of the "fountain of immortal youth," and though he found it not, either in the flowery peninsula upon which he chanced to land, or elsewhere, he made for himself a lasting name as a discoverer. Most parts of the earth have now become so well known to mankind that every school-boy, if he will take the trouble to read the books that have been written, may learn more about them than the wisest men knew a hundred or two years ago. It is not strange, however, that the Arctic regions, on account of their extreme cold, should There so long have been the least known to us. 54 has been no lack of zeal to explore this country, but the dangers and difficulties of the voyage have been so great that those who undertook it were either obliged to turn back, or perish by starvation and cold. Indeed, many brave men have found a grave in that lonely land. But others have not been hindered by these warnings from undertaking the same perilous voyage. In spite of the terrible climate, of ice-bergs and ice floes, of hurricanes and driving snow-storms, of hunger and intense suffering, men have bravely pressed their way into this unknown region. A powerful fascination seems to lurk in its frozen wastes and snowy wildernesses ; for we are told that those who have once visited the Arctic world, however great their sufferings, are restless to make new voyages to it. You may well wonder what object men have had in taking such risks, when they knew that they were more than likely never to return to their homes and friends. Well, there have been different reasons for different explorations, but perhaps the first cause has been the search for a shorter passage to the East. You see, in order to sail from the west to the east side of the world ; for instance, from England or France to China, Japan, or the East India Islands, we must take one of two long, tedious routes — either around the Cape of Good" Hope and through the Indian Ocean, or around Cape Horn and across the Pa cific Ocean. By means of the Suez Canal,' lead ing from the Mediterranean Sea into the Indian Ocean, a somewhat shorter, way has been opened, but as it is not suitable for sailing vessels, this route can never be of general use for commerce between the East and the West. Now, according to the size of the country, Eu rope has always had more inhabitants than Asia ; and as these far Eastern lands were very rich in many useful and precious things which the Euro peans desired, they have for centuries been anxious to find a shorter passage to the East. By looking on your map, you will see that, were it possible to sail the Northern seas, the distance would be greatly shortened by crossing the Atlantic and keeping along the northern coast of North Amer ica, and then sailing through Behring Strait, into the Pacific Ocean. And though many brave men have perished in the attempt, one ship did enter the Arctic Ocean through Behring Strait, and ac tually forced its way through ice and snow into the Atlantic. And thus the " North-west Passage," so long sought, though at last discovered, was proved to be entirely useless for the purposes of commerce. By sailing north from the British Isles, through the passage between Norway and Greenland, di rectly across the Arctic Sea, and then south through Behring Strait, one might reach the East Indies and adjoining countries by a still shorter route. This line would not be over 5,000 miles in length, and would bring India, China, and three or four weeks' voyage from So these tried to through Japan within a Great Britain. explorers have find a passage the seas of the Arctic re gions, which for a greater portion of the year are solid ice. It seems a fool ish idea to us, does n't it ? But they have a theory (I think it can scarcely be more, since no one has been there to prove it) that right around the North Pole, lies an open sea of several thousand miles in extent, and free from ice as are the At lantic and Pacific. In this more temperate climate they imagine there are islands, where dwell peo ples who have never seen the face of civilized man. Those who believe thus have some reasons for doing so, but you will not perhaps care to hear them explained just now. They have thought if they could but find a pas sage through the frozen seas which surround this inner sea, the "North-East Passage" would be open before them. But even if some one should succeed in getting through by this passage, the dangers and difficulties of the way would hinder it from being of any practical use to sailors. And in these later days it has been pretty well proved that neither a "North- West" or a "North-East Passage" can ever be opened. Yet the search for them has not been without its g6od results, in the knowledge it has given to the world of these wonderful regions. If early explorers had no doubt have seen- at the start how fruitless their efforts would prove. Other explorers have not sought this new pas sage to the East, but have simply undertaken to reach the North Pole, — some for the mere glory of it, and others that they might bring to light the wonders of this now unknown region. Still others of the bravest. of these explorers have faced the perilous voyage in search of lost comrades who failed to return as expected. In some in stances survivors have been found alive, who must soon have perished, had they not been rescued. In most cases, however, only the dead bodies or a few bones of the missing men, with perhaps some remnants of their clothing or utensils( have been left to tell the story. Yet records, more or less complete, of their adventures and discoveries have often been found en cased in a tin box or bur ied in cairns set up for the purpose, when hope of life had failed the builders. And though from their poor dumb lips none may now break the seal of si lence, they have thus given to the world the most val uable information. They have discovered and named new islands, capes, and bays ; they have explored and surveyed the islands and coast lands of the North ; they have visited the people who dwell in this cheerless region, and learned how they manage to exist in that barren land, — how they build their houses, what they eat and wear, how they fish, hunt, and travel. Some times the natives have treated the white men with cruelty, but more often they have received them kindly, and when shipwrecked and distressed, have taken them into their rude homes, and kept them from starvation till they were rescued, or able to go on their journey, when one of their number would act as guide. Before we are through, you shall be told more particularly in regard to some of the known more about the Arctic world, they would most interesting of these explorations. 55 *ms^^m The Arctic Seasons. HE most southern of the Arctic lands are covered with forests ; but the islands within ** the Arctic circle, and quite a tract back from the coasts of the northern continents, are treeless wastes. These barren lands are known as the "barrens" of North America, and the "tundras" and "steppes" of Siberia and Northern Europe. The cold, bleak winds of the Arctic Sea drive across these lands so fiercely that no trees can grow there. And so it is even in milder climates ; in localities where strong winds blow a greater part of the time, the islands are usually treeless. The Arctic forest regions stretch j^y in an almost unbroken belt three quarters of the way around the earth. This belt is from iooo to 1400 miles in breadth ; though it is not easy to trace an exact boundary between the plains and the forest zone. Where the ground is rolling, and hilly ridges break the force of the icy blasts, the forests creep into the stony, treeless region ; and in other pla ces, where the ocean-winds have a free sweep, the desolate plains strike into the wooded belt. As we advance toward the coast, the trees grow more scattering. These forests are composed mostly of cone-bearing trees, — spruce, pine, fir, larch, etc., — though there are some ash and elder, and along the banks of riv ers and shores of lakes are thick ets of dwarf willows. As you might easily expect from the nature of the climate, these woods are not inhab ited by swarms of animals, or made musical by the songs of birds. It is said that " even the echoes are silent, except when the hoarse wind bears to them the peculiar cry of the reindeer, the howl of the wolf, or the sharp scream of some bird of prey." In the vast dreary pine-forests of Lapland, " the ground, instead of grass, is car peted with dense tufts of the reindeer moss, white as a shower of new fallen snow ; while the trunks and branches of the trees are swollen far beyond of the rock-hair, hanging down in masses, or stretching from tree to tree in long festoons, wav ing with every breath of wind, and making a con tinual low, moaning sound." The opening, lines of Longfellow's "Evangeline" seem a fitting de scription of these lonely forests : " This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers, hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms." It would be hard to imagine a drearier place than the stony, treeless plains, with their bound less swamps. For some eight or nine months of the year they are covered with a deep shroud of snow ; the sun does not shine; the sky is dull and l|j||||§|p m eaag m *v¥K~^". their natural size with huge, dusky funereal branches 56 Advent of Spring in the Polar Regions. dark; and it seems as if an eternal night had come. The reindeer, who have their home in these Arctic lands, take to the forests, and huddle together beneath the trees, for protection from the bitter winds. The harsh yelp of the Arctic fox, or the hooting of a snow owl occasionally breaks the deep silence. The trunks of large trees and even masses of rock are often rent with a loud clang by the intense cold. It does not seem as if peo ple could live at all in such a climate, but the in habitants seem to be so constituted that they can endure cold ; and Nature teaches them how to pr©- tect themselves in ways we should never think of. But life to them is at best little more than a con flict with cold and hunger. About the first of June the short Arctic summer begins, and these gloomy regions are warmed into life for a little while. The sun shines once more, and the 'darkness and gloom and death-like silence have passed away. The ground is continually frozen to a depth of 300 or 400 feet, and during are known. They flourish on rocks, stones, trees, or wherever they can get moisture enough to support them. They lend the beauty of color to many an Arctic scene, which would otherwise be utterly dreary. " Now they are seen like ink- spots on the trunks of fallen trees ; now they are freely sprinkled in white dust over rocks and with ered tufts of moss ; others appear in gray filmy patches ; others again like knots or rosettes of va- The Return of the Arctic Birds. the summer it only thaws three or four feet below the surface. But nowhere has the spell of win ter entirely crushed the life out of all vegetation, for even the farthest northern point which man has reached enjoys its brief summer, when the mosses and lichens spring up from their grave be neath the snow and flourish for a few short weeks. We are told on good authority that upwards of two thousand four hundred different kinds of lichens rious tints ; still others are tufted and shrubby, like miniature trees." Another very curious little plant is found grow ing on the very snow in some of the most north ern Arctic lands, making what has been called by Arctic travelers " red-snow." This was first dis covered by Sir John Ross, in 1808, on a range of cliffs rising about 800 feet above the sea-level, and extending eight miles in length. He says that 57 the surface of the snow-plain, though previously of its usual spotless purity, if crushed by the pres sure of the sledges or the foot-steps of the party, became covered with blood-like or sometimes orange stains. It has been discovered by scien tific men that this peculiar coloring is caused by the little plant before spoken of. By examining the snow under a powerful microscope, it is found to contain a perfect little plant, bearing a tiny red berry, something like a currant berry. When crushed, the little crimson berry of course reddens the snow. If a little of this snow is allowed to melt on a white paper or cloth, it leaves a slight crimson stain. Early in June the Arctic traveler sees with de light the signs of returning spring. Since April the heavy snows have been melting, and now the stems of the willows which border the streams begin to grow green, while the mosses and other hardy plants open their little leaves almost under the very snow, and stand alive in the half-frozen turf, looking as glad of the spring as their more fa vored cousins of the South. The reindeer seek the plains in numerous herds, to feed on the young mosses ; the salmon and sturgeon appear in the streams, whither they come to spawn ; the whirr of wings announces the coming of migratory birds to breed their young, and in their train follow the eagle and hawk and other birds of prey. The cliffs along the coast are alive with the little auk, a water-fowl not larger than a quail ; flocks of stately eider ducks sail into the creeks and sounds ; the graceful terns scream and dart over the sea ; long lines of cackling geese sail in the blue sky overhead ; the walrus and seal sun themselves on the ice, (for there is always ice in the Arctic world), and the streams run with a merry sound. In little patches here and there, where the dark- colored moss absorbs the warm rays of the sun, the most delicate little flowers spring up to glad den the heart of the traveler. Tiny violets set in a back-ground of dark moss, adorn the shel tered hillsides, and many flowers unknown to warmer climates come forth to flourish for a few short weeks only, and then wither in the August winds. Very few of the flowers have any per fume ; nearly all of them smell of the dank moss which forms their bed. Even the butterfly and mosquito put in an appearance, but their days are few ; for this season of warmth is very short, and " when July has passed, the sun begins to sink lower and lower, as if to visit another world, a shadow gradually steals over the sky, winds blow fiercely, ^z 58 and bring with them blinding showers of sleet and icicles; the streams cease their pleasant flow ; the snow mantle rests on the hillsides and valleys ; the birds wing their way to the warm South ; and the Polar world is once more given over to the silence, the loneliness, and the gloom of the long Arctic night." The transition from the Arctic summer to win ter is very sudden, and almost as much so is the change from winter to summer. Of course the farther north we go, the longer and severer the winter and the shorter and cooler the summer ; and the kinds of vegetation to be found vary in the same way. The summer reaches the wooded re gions a little before it does the treeless plains, and so on. The 3/iidrught. Sun. N the part of the earth where we live, the sun goes down at night, and we go to our beds and sleep. In the morning the sun returns, and we arise and go about our /<. work for the day.. But it is not so in these Arctic lands. For a part of the year they have one long night, and during the other part a long day. Sometimes we get very busy either with our work or pleasure, and wish that night would never come and stop us ; and again, we wish the nights might ever be long enough for us to " get our sleep out." I think if we were to spend a year in the Arctic world, we should never make either , of these wishes again ; but ever after be very thankful that we have a day and a night in every twenty-four hours. By August the bleak Arctic winds begin to blow, and the middle of September finds everything again locked in the arms of the frost-king. Each day the sun shines a shorter time, until by the first of November the daylight has entirely disappeared, though it is partially light for a little while at noon. By the first of December total darkness reigns, and no sign remains to show the Arctic dweller that there is a sun in the heavens. The night has in deed come, but what a night ! We know what night is in these temperate lands, — bright, pleasant nights, when the stars shine out in the sky, and the moon sheds its light over tree and stream and hill and dale ; stormy nights, when the clouds hang low and heavy, the rain falls drearily, and the wind rushes through vtfgg the trees and wails around the corners of the house ; the soft, beautiful summer night, so brief that it seems but a pause between the two days ; the sad autumn night, when the winds moan through the naked trees, and blow the fallen leaves about ; the long dark night of winter, with its frosty air and broad mantle of snow over all ! But none of these give us any idea of the long Arctic night, with its great silence. There is no sound of foot-fall or cry of bird or beast ; there are no trees, among the branches of which the wind may moan and sigh. Travelers tell us that both body and mind frozen solitudes she sheds the radiance of her soft light just as faithfully as in our own more favored clime. Wc may. well believe that after twenty days of total darkness the traveler hails with joy the appearance of the moon ; and yet we are told that be fore she has run her ten day's course, he is wearied by the uniform brightness, for there is no change from moonlight to sunlight, as with us. They tell us that moonlight in the Polar world is dif ferent from moonlight anywhere else. Night after night the sky is free from cloud or shadow, and the stars shine out with an intense brightness, wgsm E IS Moonlight in the Polar World. are greatly oppressed by this solitude and lasting darkness. Even the dogs feel it, and often go mad. or die of very fear ; for the poor dumb things cannot understand it at all, nor know that light and life will ever return. Did you ever think how it- would seem to miss the soothing influences of the evening twilight, and the cheering rays of the rising sun, inviting to labor, kindling fresh hope and courage for each day's duties ? Let us be thankful for the morning and the evening, the day and the night ! But though the sun deserts the Arctic world for months together, the moon does not. In those "seeming to cut the air like keen swords. The moonbeams are thrown back with a pale lustre by ice-floe and glacier and snow-drift, and the only relief to the brightness is where the dark cliffs throw a shadow over the landscape. Gloriously beautiful look the snow-clad mountains, as the moonlight pours upon them its serene splendor. The whole scene produces a strange feeling of awe upon the beholder." Dr. Kane, a famous Arctic explorer, wrote in his diary, "For eight days the moon has been making her circuit with nearly unvarying bright ness. She is a glorious object, sweeping her way 59 around the heavens, at all times far above the horizon. This is one of those sparkling nights that bring back the memory of sleigh-bells and songs and glad communings of hearts in lands that are far away." Another thing which adds to the marvels of the Arctic night is the aurora borealis, or " north ern lights," as they are more familiarly called. It generally appears in the form of a luminous arc, or bow, stretching from east to west, but this is believed to be only part of a broad circle of light rising high above the surface of our globe ; the times starting side by side from the arc, they melt into each other, and fling a wierd glare of green over everything. Again, the red overcomes the green ; violet-tinted arrows flash through a broad belt of orange, and countless tongues of white flame, formed of these uniting colors; rush aloft and clasp the skies. And all along the white surface of the frozen sea, upon the mount ain peaks and the lofty cliffs, the light glows and dims, and glows again. But no two displays are ever exactly alike. On some occasions the broad, dome of night seems , all ablaze. Lurid fires, msiS/' lf| The Aurora Borealis. center being over the North Pole. It is easy to see that only a portion of this circle would be visible at any one place on the earth. The au rora borealis may often be seen on winter nights, in temperate climates, but in the Arctic lands, the display is much grander than anything ever seen elsewhere. We shall best describe the aurora in the words of one who has witnessed it in the far North many times. " The color of the light is •chiefly red, but ev ery hue mingles with it. Blue and yellow streamers shoot athwart the lurid fire, and some- 60 fiercer than those which Reddened the skies from burning Troy, flash angrily across the heavens. Invisible 'hands' seem unfurling fiery banners, tt> stream like meteors in the troubled air. A kind of canopy of soft and tranquil light, which is known as the corona, indicates the close of the marvelous exhibition, and soon after its appearance the bright hues begin to die out, and after a little, nothing re mains but a cloudy, whitish haze in those parts of the heavens which but a few minutes before blazed with the mysterious fires of the aurora borealis." By degrees the winter darkness grows less, and the coming of the day is announced by a kind of twilight, which increases more and more as win ter passes into spring. There are signs that Nature is awaking once more to life. The foxes come out upon the hillsides, and gallop hither and thither in search of food. The walrus and seal come oftener to land. At length, early in Feb ruary, broad daylight comes at noon, and the weary explorer rejoices to know that the end is near. On the 18th or 19th of February the sun once more makes its appearance above the southern horizon, and is welcomed as one welcomes a long- lost friend. "At sight of him the flowers bud and bloom, and turn their faces smilingly and gratefully up to him as he wanders over the an- when to sleep ; their eyes are made very sore, and their faces and lips are blistered, by the fierce rays of the sun. It may sound strange to speak of sun-burn in the frigid zone, but travelers tell us that in no other part of the earth are they more annoyed by that ill. The heat of ordinary exercise compels him to throw back the hood of his fur coat, which the temperature of the weather still requires him to wear, although the sun seems to shine so hot. Not only is his face burned, but the entire scalp is affected much as it would be if a bucket of scalding water were poured over his head. A recent explorer makes just this state ment, and says it is no exaggeration. Straw hats would seem to be the proper style of head-dress, The Midnight Sun. cient hills during the short summer. The very glaciers weep tears of- joy at his coming ; and the ice looses its iron grip upon the waters. The reindeer skip gleefully over the mountains to wel come his return, and look longingly ,to him for the green pastures. The sea-fowls, knowing that he will give them a resting-place for their feet upon the rocky islands and cliffs, come to seek the moss-beds which he spreads for their nests ; and the sparrows return with his life-giving rays, and sing their love-songs through the endless day." In March begins the " long day " of the Arctic lands, when for months the sun is never out of sight. This perpetual light is said by those who have experienced it to be even more trying than the. darkness of the long night. They never know rather than fur hoods, but no one appears to think of taking them along on an expedition to the " fro zen North." One never knows when to sleep. The world seems to be all gone wrong, and the traveler grows nervous and restless. Sleep refuses to visit his weary eyelids, his appetite fails, and he feels as if he had watched nights upon nights with the sick. He lies down in broad daylight, and wakens from troubled sleep to see the " midnight sun " shining upon him in all its glory, and shedding a strange halo over the wierd landscape of sea and ice. But he finally learns to take advantage of the new arrangement of things j finds some means to darken his tent when he lies down to rest, which he does during the middle of the day, and pur sues his journey when the sun is lowest. Slaciers and icebergs. LL metals and minerals, if allowed to cool } gradually after being melted, build them- ^*""* selves up into crystals. Sugar, alum, chalk, etc., have the same power. Water is a liquid, to all appearance without form, but when sufficiently cold, it, too, arranges it- the North has been wrought out in obedience to her laws, and is therefore perfect. If a piece of solid ice be put under the rays of a powerful glass, it will be found to be composed of tiny star-crystals, which look almost like flowers. They are even more beautiful than the snow-crystals. In the center of each is a little spot as bright as burnished silver, but it is really only a vacuum, or bubble of air. Snow consists of small particles of ice. Now, if by pressure, we squeeze out the air from thaw ing snow, and bring the little ice-granules into close contact, they freeze together and form solid ice. It is on this principle that glaciers are formed. And what is a glacier ? you may ask. It has sometimes been called a " river of ice." It is not in the Arctic world alone that they exist. The glaciers of the Swiss Alps are wprld renowned ; but perhaps we have often read of them, as of many other things, without under standing really what they are. We may give a general idea of what a glacier is in a very few words, by saying that it is a field or immense mass of ice, or snow and ice, formed in the region of per petual snow, and moving slowly down mountain- Snow Crystals. ^ ' , ¦ slopes or valleys. It usually bears along with it self into crystals of the most varied and beautiful boulders and fragments of rock. No doubt one shapes. When snow falls in calm air, the icy who looks for the first time on one of these huge particles, or flakes, are almost always in the form ice-rivers finds it hard to believe that it is con- of six-pointed stars, though they vary greatly in tinually moving onward with a certain and unre- other respects, it being al most impossible to find any two exactly alike. In the cut are shown various forms of these little snow- crystals, as they appear un der a powerful magnifying glass. What wonderful work is going on in the air during the fall of every snow-shower ! Probably few of us have any idea of the magical beauties locked up in a block of ice. The finest and most skillful works of man, when placed under a microscope, appear coarse and commonplace, if not actually unsightly. But not so with Nature's work. The more it is magnified, the more clearly do its sisting, though gradual, progress. It looks like a beauties and wonders stand out. Every atom of noble river, frozen as it flowed. The poet thus the solid crust which covers the frozen waters of gives, words to his first impressions of the greatest 62 Ice Flowers. of European ice-rivers, the Aletsch Glacier, at the head of the valley of the Rhone. "Torrents, methinks, that had a mighty voice', And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge ! Motionless torrents ! Silent cataracts ! " The glaciers of the Polar regions do not differ materially from those of other • countries. From Icebergs and Aurora Borealis. the mountains in the interior the hardened snows slide into the valleys, and fill them with ice. The glaciers thus formed move steadily downward to ward the sea, although if you were to stand and look at one, you could not see that it moved at all. But they do slide on till they reach the sea, and form immense icy cliffs, or walls of ice, over and out of which streams of water pour, and tor rents leap and dash, during the Arctic spring and summer. The din of these cascades fills the air. There is also a continual roar, or growling sound, as if the mighty mass were about to break forth into an earthquake. It seems like the voice of an imprisoned giant strug gling to be free. Travelers tell us that a great glacier is the sublimest thing in all the Polar world/ — that land of sublime things. There are many great Arctic gla ciers, but probably the two most noted ones are Sermiat- sialik Glacier and Humboldt Glacier, both on the western coast of Greenland, and only about ninety miles apart. These rivers of ice not only reach the sea, but often, if the shore be curved, as in the recess of a bay, push their way out over the sea, sup porting themselves on the sides of the bay and over hanging the water. But the great mass of ice, being no longer supported except at the sides, partially crumbles ; and immense blocks of ice break away, fall into the sea with a noise like thunder, disappear beneath the water, but soon rise again, and after turning over a few times with a great splashing and noise, at last gain their equilibrium, or balance, and float away into the great waters. The blocks, of all sizes and shapes, thus broken off from the gla cier, are called icebergs. A fleet of these great ice-ships setting out to sea must be a glorious sight, especially if lit up by the light of the moon or of the midnight sun. If you place a number of fragments of ice in a basin of water, and cause them to touch each other, they will freeze together where they touch. You can form a chain of such fragments, and then, by taking hold of one end of the chain, draw the whol? 63 after it. Chains of icebergs are sometimes formed in this way in the Arctic seas. Icebergs are formed only in regions where glaciers abound. They are very numerous in Baffin Bay and the gulfs and inlets connected with it ; for the whole interior of the country bordering it is the seat of immense glaciers, which are constantly "shedding off" icebergs. But they do not remain content at home, but as has been said before, immediately set out for sea ; and are often borne by the tide and ocean-c'urrents far from the place of their birth, to gradually melt in the waters of warmer seas. The steamers and ships crossing between Europe and America sometimes meet them on their track. To come into collision with one of them is certain destruction, and it is thought very probable that some of those ships which have left their harbors in safety, but never been heard of since, have per ished from this cause. These bergs, or floating mountains, often rise 250 to 300 feet above the sea, and it has been cal culated that the bulk of an iceberg below the wa ter is eight times that of the' portion rising above it. > They have been found aground in water half a mile deep. They are not only majestic in size, but sublime in appearance. As a chain of them sweeps grandly along, one might easily imagine them to be the sea-washed palaces of a race of giants,' — this a grand cathedral, that a cluster of lofty tow ers ; here a glittering palace, there a dazzling pyra mid. It seems impossible for one who has not visited the Arctic world to get a just idea of the amount of ice upborne on its cold bleak waters. As many as seven hundred bergs have been seen at once in the Polar seas, each as lofty as the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral ; some, as the cross of St. Peter's, at Rome. A veritable fleet of war-vessels sent out by the frost-king to defy those bold in vaders who would pry into the secrets of his realm ! In the course, of the brief Arctic summer the increased heat of the sun so affects the solid ice of the bergs that it becomes undermined and honey combed, or as the sailors call it, "rotten," like a chalk cliff. The ice crumbles from their faces, and falls down into the sea with a roar like can non. Great caverns form in the sides of the bergs, and are filled with pools of water of the most beautiful blue or at other times emerald green tints. Cascades leap from rents in their craggy sides, and the sea water dashing in and out through their icy caves and tunnels makes a sonorous but melancholy sound. Captain Parry, a voyager to the North seas, was once witness of a sublime scene, — the entire dissolution of an enormous iceberg. Though this is something which frequently occurs, it has sel dom been witnessed by human eyes. The berg looked as large as Westminster Abbey, which it greatly resembled in shape, and appeared as if it might well endure " a century of sun and thaw." Yet without any warning it went to ruin before his eyes. " First one tall tower tumbled headlong into the water, starting from its surface an innumerable swarm of gulls ; then another followed ; and at length, after five hours of terrible crashing, not a fragment that rose fifty feet above the water was life ' ; - ' / MS W' ¦ 64 Among the Bergs— A Narrow Escape. left of this mighty cathedral of ice. The sea around became a seething caldron, from the violent plunging of the masses of ice, as they broke and re-broke into a thousand pieces." The ship was fortunate in being far enough away not to be in danger. But though the bergs are sometimes very dan gerous to the mariner, at other times they prove a protection, though he cannot tell at what mo ment his seeming friend may prove a concealed foe. As most of their bulk lies below the wa ter's surface, they are not carried along by the wind, and are able to defy the strongest gale. The waves break against them as against a rock-bound coast, and often the spray is flung over their very summits. And so it happens that the sailors are often glad to bring their ship into the smooth wa- ter under the lee of the berg ; and sometimes the ship is even anchored to it. Yet fastening to an ice berg is liable to be very dangerous, as, if the ice be *' rotten," so slight a thing as the blow of an ax or the discharge of a gun may loosen large pieces of ice, or even split the berg asunder. Then woe to the luckless ship beneath it ! In Melville Bay, Dr. Kane's ship was anchored to an iceberg which protected it from the fury of a violent gale. But he had not long enjoyed its quiet shelter, when " a din of loud crackling sounds was heard above, and small fragments of ice, not larger than a walnut, began to dot the water, like the first big drops of a thunder-shower." Dr. Among the Pack-Ice. Kane and his crew did not long neglect f these warnings ; but they had barely time to cast off, before the berg split asunder, and the whole face fell crashing in ruins where but a few moments before their ship lay at anchor. In winter, the ice from the North Pole descends ¦so far south as to make the coast of Newfoundland almost, if not quite, inaccessible ; it envelops Greenland, sometimes Iceland, and always sur rounds and blocks up Spitzbergen and Novaia Zemlaia. But as the sun returns north, this fro zen expanse, which stretches over several thousands •of square miles, breaks up into enormous masses. These are called ice-fields. Ice-fields twenty or thirty miles across are common in the great North ern Ocean. Sometimes they extend for a hun dred miles or more, so closely and solidly packed 5 65 that there is no opening, even for a boat, between them. The ice which forms them varies in thick ness from ten to forty or fifty feet. At times these immense fields get into motion, and dash against one another with a fury which no words can describe. The waters seethe and foam, as if lashed by a great tempest ; and the creaking, rend ing, cracking, and heaving, as the two ice-fields are hurled against each other, is terrific. You may imagine the fate of a ship caught between these grinding masses. No ship ever built by human hands could resist their pressure ; and many a whaling vessel, navigating among these floating fields, especially in foggy weather, has been thus destroyed. Some have been caught up like reeds, and flung helplessly upon the ice ; others have been overrun by the ice, and buried beneath the broken fragments ; others have been dashed to pieces, and gone down suddenly, with all on board. The records of Arctic expeditions are full of stories of "hairbreadth" escapes from such perils. You must not imagine that an ice-field is a smooth, glassy plain, as level as a meadow. It is, on the contrary, a rugged succession of hollows and hummocks, crossed every now and then by deep fissures, or cracks, in the ice. In many parts it reminds one of a field of rocks closely packed together, and piled up over the dreary space in great heaps and endless ridges, leaving scarcely a foot of level surface. An ice-floe is a detached portion of a field ; large numbers of floes, packed closely toge'ther, form what is called pack-ice; while drift-ice is loose ice in motion, and not so firmly wedged to gether as to prevent a ship from forcing its way through the yielding fragments. The pack-ice is a great hindrance to Arctic exploration, and to be caught in it is sometimes almost as dangerous as to be caught between ice-fields. On one of Captain Parry's voyages to the North, his ship, the Hecla, had been made fast by means of cables . to the land-ice, when a very heavy floe caught her on the broadside, and, being backed by another large body of ice, gradually lifted her stern as if by a wedge. The crew were obliged to veer on the hawsers till the pressure proved so great that the cables snapped. As the sea was too full of ice to allow the ship, to drive, she could only lean over the land-ice, while her stern was lifted out of the water for fully five feet. Just when her destruction seemed certain, a small channel opened up amid the driving ice, and the ship was got "on her feet" in smoother water. .. '- # i *rf • mot ^as short, stout legs, and three completely sJTVCtiC BirdS and ^7\nimalS. webbed toes on each foot. Its plumage is black :HE birds and animals of the Arctic lands might, with very few exceptions, be called aquatic ; as it is from the sea that al most every living thing gets its food. The second definition which the dictionary gives to " aquatic " (frequenting the water) would surely apply to them. The Arctic birds do not The Auk. long winter ; arid glossy, with the exception of a large white patch on each wing. It lives on fish and other things which it finds in the sea. The auks are very numerous in the Polar re gions of both the eastern and the western conti nents. They, too, live by the ocean, and find their food in it. Their heads and backs are glossy black and their breasts pure white. They creep into the rocky cliffs, winding far in through narrow places, that they may hide their eggs from their great enemy, the Arctic fox. Their flesh is said to make a wholesome and delicate meat. They are very tame, and are easily caught. Great numbers of them are destroyed both by sailors and the natives, but they never seem to grow fewer. They spend a great deal of their time on the water, where they appear .much more graceful than on land. These birds are found very far north in the summer. The puffin is a queer looking little bird. Its head seems a good' deal too large for its body. The puffins are great swimmers and divers, but their wings are so short that they do not make much headway at flying. They are near relatives of the auks. Audubon, the great naturalist, gives a vivid picture of an island inhabited by these birds. He says that on every crag or stone stood a puffin, at the entrance of every hole another; and yet the sea and air were ' filled with them. The burrows were alive with young birds of dif ferent ages and sizes ; and clouds of puffins Hew- by him, each one holding a small fish by the head. The island seemed to be perfectly honey-combed with underground passages, over which it was impossible to walk without the risk of falling through at every step. The voices of the young remain in that region during the but as soon as the sun returns in the spring, they begin to appear, and the cliffs along the sea soon swarm with them. Among the first-comers is the dove-kie, or black guillemot, which spends its winters in Labrador, Nor way, and Scotland. The guillemot lays its eggs without any nest, on the bare shelves of the sea-cliffs. Its eggs are very peculiar ; they vary greatly in size and shape, some being small, and others large ; some sharp at one end, and others almost as round as a ball. This bird belongs to the same fam ily as the auk, another Arctic bird, which the sounded beneath his feet like voices from the guillemot considerably resembles. The guille- grave, and the odor was almost unbearable. 66 Puffins. A Bird Bazaar in Novaia Zemlaia. The goosander, or as it is more commonly called, the dun diver, is another Arctic bird, which visits the United States, as well as France, Holland, and Germany, in the winter ; but as the sun goes north, the dun diver returns to Siberia and Kamt- chatka, Iceland, Greenland, and the Arctic shores of North America. It looks a good deal like a goose. Most of its time is spent in the air and on the water, as it is a good flier, and a good swimmer, but an awkward walker. It builds its nest near the edge of the water, of roots, coarse grass, and other such materials, and lines it with down from its own body. In this it lays twelve or fourteen cream-colored eggs, of a long, oval shape. One of the most useful of the ijj(~ Arctic birds, and by no means the j least beautiful, is the eider-duck. BBBjlJllf' 1 It has its summer home , in Lap land, Greenland, Iceland, Spitz- bergen, and along the shores of Baffin and Hudson Bays. In some parts of Iceland it is made a do mestic bird, and great care is taken of it by the natives, who are far more civilized than most of the Northern peoples. The breeding places of the eider-duck in Iceland are mostly private property, and some of them have been for centu ries in the possession of the same families, which owe all their wealth to these birds. Whoever kills one of them is fined as much as thirty dollars of our money; and to steal an egg, or even a pocketful of down is an offense punishable by law. As these domesticated ducks are quite tame, the eider-down is easily collected. The female lines her nest with the most delicate down, which she plucks from her own body. When she has laid her five or six greenish-olive eggs, and begun to sit upon them, the down-collector carefully removes her from the nest, and robs her of both its precious lining and the eggs. The bird then goes patiently at work to line her nest again ; and if she has not enough down on her own body, the male bird supplies the lack. If this second lining is taken away, the poor duck will a third time prepare her nest and lay her eggs ; but if again robbed, she will forsake her nest. Eider down is highly valued, on account of its lightness, elasticity, and warmth. It comes to the market in balls about the size of a man's fist ; but one of these contains three or four pounds of down ; and 68 when opened, and allowed to expand near the fire, it will make a quilt five or six feet square. The down from dead birds is of but little value, as it is no longer elastic. The eider-ducks spend a good deal of time on. the water ; but if a storm threatens, they seek the rocky shore, where they love to breed and rest. The haunts of the wild eiders are much 'sought after, and many risks are often taken in obtaining the down and eggs from their nests among the steep sea-cliffs. The eggs are considered a great deli cacy, and are pickled for winter use. Probably you have all heard the old tradition that the swan at its death-hour sings, for the first time m& •<$8g^ ¦sat -..-The Haunt of the Wild Swan. in its life, a sweet song, — its own dirge. Perhaps, too, you have read the beautiful lines in which the poet Tennyson sets forth this fable ; but they will bear reading more than once : — " With an inner voice the river ran. Adown it floated a dying swan, And loudly did lament — The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul Of that waste place with joy Hidden in sorrow : at first, to the ear The warble was low, and full, and clear ; But anon her awful jubilant voice, With a music strange and manifold, Flowed forth on a carol free and bold — And the creeping mosses and clambering weeds, And the willow branches hoar and dank,- And the wavy swell of the soughing reeds, And the wave-worn horns of the echoing bank, And the silvery marish-flowers that throng The desolate creeks and pools among, Were flooded over with eddying song." But the wild swan's voice, even in its dying hour, has no such musical sweetness as has been imag ined. It is always harsh and discordant, and when it breaks on the silence of the Arctic air, it is almost startling to the ear of the listener. The lakes and streams of Iceland abound with of the other birds which visit the Arctic lands. these beautiful great birds. When , full grown, they measure nearly five feet in length, and some times more than seven feet from the tip of one wing to that of the other. One of them often weighs as much as fifteen pounds. The feathers are all pure white, and next the skin lies a coat of thick fine down. The wild swan is shot or caught for its feathers and down, which are quite valuable. It is found by the salt and brackish waters along the coast, as well as by lakes and streams — sometimes in large flocks and sometimes in single pairs. The female builds her nest of withered leaves and stalks of reeds and rushes, in Fight Between a Walrus and a Polar Bear. lonely and retired places. She lays six or seven large, thick-shelled eggs, which are hatched in about six weeks. Both -parents take great care of the cygnets, as the young swans are called. At the approach of winter they gather in multi tudes, rise high in the air, and sail away for milder lands. Of course these are not all of the Arctic birds ; but some of the principal ones have been described, to give you an idea of all.. You see they are all sea-birds, and their habits a good deal alike. On the shores of Novaia Zemlaia, Spitsbergen,' and other coasts before mentioned, the sea-birds arrive in countless hosts, as soon as the returning sun has broken the long and dreary spell of winter. The narrow rock-ledges on which they gather — where auks and guillemots' assemble in thousands — are sometimes called "bird bazaars." The auks and guillemots, the sea-mew, and the common gull, probably' go farther north than any The wealth of the Northern seas seems almost inexhaustible ; and in this we see the wisdom of the Creator, since in those frozen and desolate lands both the people and animals must get their food almost entirely from the sea. The way in which the ocean-waters teem with life is in strik ing contrast with the nakedness of their bleak shores. In some parts cod-fish are plenty, and supply the inhabitants with a valuable article of food. The capelin, which in May and June abounds in the Greenland waters, is eaten both fresh, and dried or salted down. During its stay the Green- landers are busy preparing it for winter use. The halibut is quite plenty in the seas of the North, and of large size, also the salmon, the lump-fish, the bull-head, and others. The seas, however, grow poorer as we advance toward the Pole, and many important kinds of these fish are not found much north of the Arctic circle. The walrus and seal have their home in the Arctic seas, and seem never to find the climate too cold for them ; for they do not migrate to warmer lands in the winter, as do the birds and fishes. The walrus, or sea-horse, and the seal belong to the same family, and their bodies look a good deal alike. Their heads, however, are very different. In place of two of the front teeth of the walrus are long tusks ; and the upper lip is thickly set with strong, bristly hairs, which are about six inches long, and as thick through as a crow-quill. This great moustache, with the long white, curving tusks, the thick, projecting muzzle, and the fierce, bloodshot eyes, give to the animal a weird and savage look, as it rears its head above the waves. The walrus occasionally leaves the water to take its rest upon the shore or ice ; and the hunter watches for this time to attack it, as its move ments are slow and awkward out of water. They defend themselves against their enemies, of which the Polar bear is chief, with their tusks ; and these they also use in their fierce quarrels with one another. Old animals are often seen with broken tusks, made so by fighting or by climbing over rocks and ice-floes. The flesh of the animal is sometimes eaten, both by the natives and sailors; and its blubber affords considerable oil, though not so much as that of the seal. But the most valuable part of the sea-horse is its tusks, which are very hard, white ivory. The ivory is not so good as that of the elephant, but is much used for false teeth, chessmen, umbrella handles, whis- 69 ties, and other small articles. The tusks of a full-grown walrus are often two feet long, and weigh four or five pounds each. The walrus itself attains to a great size, sometimes measuring twelve or fifteen feet in length. Seals live in herds, more or less numerous, along the frozen shores of the Arctic seas ; and in the caves and caverns of the lonely, deserted coasts they rear their young till they are old enough to take to the water, which they do at or sac, on the head of the male. It grows to the length of seven or eight feet, and is found mostly in the waters of Newfoundland and Greenland. The common seal is a rather handsome animal, with its beautifully mottled skin and large intelli gent eyes. It is easily tamed, and soon becomes very docile. It seems to have a very loving nature, and shows great affection for its human friends. When caught young, it makes a nice pet. Seals of all kinds are much hunted for Seals Sunning Themselves on the Ice. the age of six or seven weeks. There are several different kinds of seals, which differ from one another somewhat in size and habits. The com mon seal, which abounds in the waters about Spitzbergen, is the smallest of them. It measures from four to five feet in length. The Greenland, or harp seal, is larger and fatter, and is distin guished by the changes of color it undergoes before reaching maturity. The bearded seal is sometimes ten feet long, and is known not only by its size, but by its thick, strong moustaches. The hooded seal is so named from a little hood, the sake of their fur and oil, both of which are very valuable. The whale has been called the "sovereign of the Arctic seas," on account of its enormous size. It has for centuries been the object of man's diligent search, on account of its oil and whalebone, or baleen, as it is more properly called. The Northern, or Greenland whale, as those found in the Polar seas are called, is, when fully grown, about sixty or seventy feet in length, and meas ures thirty or forty feet around the body. Its head is remarkably large, being one-third of the '0 entire length of the animal. The jaw opens very far back, and jn a large whale is "about sixteen feet in length,, seven feet wide, and ten or twelve feet in hight, when open." Its lips are five or six feet thick. They do not cover any teeth, but they protect a pair of very formidable jaws. This immense cavern of a mouth is filled with baleen, or whalebone, which is arranged in layers, or plates, along the sides of the mouth, for the purpose of aiding the animal in. obtaining its food, and separating it from the water. The weight of the baleen furnished by a single whale is about one ton. Just beneath the skin the whale is covered with a thick layer of fat, or blubber, from -which the oil is obtained. This layer is never less than several inches in thickness, and some times as much as two feet. It is spoken of by whalers as "the blanket." In a large whale it will weigh from twenty-five to thirty tons. The narwhal, or sea-unicorn, is also found in the Polar seas. It looks some like a whale, but is much smaller, usually measuring but about twenty feet in length. This animal is chiefly interesting because of the tusk, or horn, which grows straight forward from the upper jaw, in a direct line with - the body. The horn is of the hardest, whitest ivory, and measures from six to ten feet in length. A narwhal was once known to drive its tusk 'through the sheathing and deep into the timbers of a ship. But the tooth was snapped by the sudden blow, and remaining in the hole which it made, kept the water from getting into the vessel. Narwhals are quite plenty in the waters about Greenland, Novaia Zemlaia, and Spitzbergen. They are valued for the fine quality of 'both their oil and ivory. A sight which often meets the eyes of the voyager in the Arctic seas is a shoal of dolphins, gambling and leaping, as if in the very heyday of enjoyment. The dolphin somewhat resembles the whale in shape, but is even smaller than the narwhal. The beluga, or white dolphin, attracts attention by the dazzling whiteness of its body and the swiftness of its movements. The black dolphin is also found in the North seas. The dolphin is remarkable for its numerous teeth, the whole number being no less than one hundred and ninety. All bears are good swimmers, and are able to cross .channels of considerable width ; but the Polar, or white bear seems especially formed for traversing the waters and for passing its life among the ice of the Northern regions. It swims and dives with almost as much ease as the seal, and is often found on drifting ice-floes seventy-five or one hundred miles from land. It is an animal of great strength, fierceness, and courage. Even when pierced with many wounds, it will fight in the most desperate manner, using both teeth and claws in the combat, and only yielding the struggle with its life. Sometimes it will run away at sight of a human being ; but at other times it is ex tremely malicious, and will attack a man without any seeming reason. The Polar bear finds its food in the sea, and sometimes shows great cunning in catching its prey. It has been seen to plunge into the water in chase of a salmon, and to return to the surface ¦with the captured fish in its mouth. . If the bear sees a seal sleeping on a piece of ice, it will mark carefully the position of its intended prey, slip quietly into the water, and swim along with only the tip of its nose above water in the direction of the seal. Reaching the floe, it dives beneath it, and comes up at the hole which the seal has prepared for its own ^escape into the water, if necessary. If the seal is on a large floe or field of ice, the bear will* creep along carefully and silently, keeping out of sight all it can behind the hummocks of ice until near enough to spring upon its victim. Yet, as the old adage says, there is many a slip ; and by either of these methods of attack, the bear does not always secure its prize. The great strength of the seal sometimes enables it to fling itself into the water in spite of the bear's efforts to hold it on the floe, and dowri they go together. Sometimes Bruin proves vic torious, owing to mortal injuries which he has inflicted upon the seal before reaching the water ; at other times he may be seen reappearing at another hole in the floe, or clambering up a loose piece of ice, looking very much mortified at his want of success. In the spring, when the baby seals are just taking to the water, is the harvest- time of the bear ; for the mother-seal, in trying to protect her young, often loses her own life as well as theirs. An instance related by Dr. Kane illustrates the great strength and perseverance of these " tigers of the ice." A cache, or depot of provisions, had been left by him at a certain place, and was in tended to supply his party with food on their return journey. It had been built, with great care, of large rocks brought together only by the hard est labor, and was so strongly made in every respect that the builders thought it next to im- 71 possible for their stores to be disturbed. But what was their surprise on returning, to find them all destroyed and scattered abroad. The bears seemed to have found the rocks no obstacle in their way. Not a morsel of pemmican (preserved meat) remained, except in the iron cases, which, •being round, with conical ends, defied both claws and teeth. These they had rolled1 and pawed in every direction, — tossing them about like foot-balls, though they were some eighty pounds in weight. An alcohol-case, strongly iron-bound, was dashed We will now notice some of the , few Arctic animals that make their home on the land. The reindeer is the most important of these, and is as useful to the dwellers in the Polar world as is the camel to those of the Tropical lands. The rein deer stands about four feet and a half in hight. Long, slender, branching horns adorn his head. The upper part of his body is of a brown color, the under part is white ; but as the anirnal ad vances in years, his entire coat changes to a gray ish white, and sometimes to a pure white. It is Face to Face with a Polar Bear. into small fragments ; and a tin can of brandy twisted almost into a ball. The bears' strong claws had pierced the metal, and torn it up as with a chisel. The burglars were too dainty for salt meats, but for ground coffee they had an evident relish. They had broken the bread-barrels into splinters, and devoured the contents. The Polar she-bear shows a strong love for her young, which she will not desert even to save her own life. Explorers relate many interesting and touching stories of the affection manifested between mother-bears and their cubs. by no means a graceful creature ; its joints and hoofs seem too large in proportion to its size ; and as the animal is obliged to lift its' feet high when going , over the snow, its gait is awkward, though it " gets over the ground " very fast. The reindeer is found in the Polar regions of both the old and the new world, and seems to have been especially created to live in that cli mate. He feeds and thrives upon mosses and lichens ; and if they are covered by snow, he will scrape it away with horns, hoofs, and nose, and lay bare the welcome food beneath. But some- 72 as is the case and he is able food, and not is so, for the times the snow and ice are so firmly frozen that the poor animals cannot succeed in digging through it, and so in very severe winters numbers of them sometimes almost or quite starve. But the food of the reindeer digests very slowly, with others of the Arctic animals ; to go for days together without suffer. And well it is that this weather is often so severe as to compel these creatures, for two or three days at a time, to think only of their safety by seeking shelter from the Snow-storms in deep ravines, under lofty cliffs, or beneath thick forest trees. / The greatest enemy of the reindeer is the wolf, which in the Arctic lands is particularly fierce and wary, and it certainly has enough of that character in all parts of the world. Some of these brutes 'are described as "perfect giants," standing nearly four feet at the shoulder, and hav ing a footmark as large as a reindeer's. In winter the reindeer are obliged to keep in herds to avoid the attacks of these savage enemies. It is said to be no uncommon sight in the dark or twilight of the long Arctic night to see a troop of reindeer calmly feeding on the moss which they have laid bare; and surrounded by a troop of wolves sitting on their haunches, uttering the most unearthly howls, but too great cowards to rush in upon their prey when in. numbers. But let a careless deer in any way become separated a little from the others, and the savage brutes will at once mark him, and creep stealthily along between him and the herd till he is cut off from it^then a rush, a shriek, a cranching of bones, a snarling of beasts of prey, and all is over with the poor reindeer. Packs of these Arctic wolves have been known to surround exploring or whaling vessels while in winter quarters in the ice, rendering the night hideous by their howls, and making it unsafe for the crew to leave the ship at any time, unless in companies, and well armed. The. musk-ox is one of the largest of the Polar animals which find their food upon the land. It seems to be half-way between an ox and a sheep. Smaller than the former, and larger than the latter, it resembles both, in its shape and general appearance. The animal is covered with long, thick, shaggy hair, which reaches nearly to the ground, and makes the little creature look, it is said, " like a bale of black wool." It has short, goat-like legs, very bright eyes, and a pair of sharp, "wicked looking" horns. It wanders in small troops over the rocky plains north of the great lakes of North America, and also on the islands lying off the coast of the continent. It is a fierce-tempered animal, and will fight desper ately in defense of itself or mate. It is said by explorers that the wolves will seldom attack one of these plucky little animals, unless it is sick or lame. Its. general habits are much like those of the reindeer, and it lives on mosses and lichens, as they do. Though it is such a clumsy looking creature, the musk-ox is really very active, and able to climb almost as well as a goat. They have been seen making their way, when frightened, up the face of a cliff which men could not climb, and going down the sides of ravines so steep that they were obliged to slide on their haunches much of the1 way. The musk-ox, as his name implies, throws out an odor of musk, and so strong is this A Fox Trap. that the very knife used in cutting up his meat, is scented with the perfume. The Arctic fox, although it does not compare with the animals already mentioned, in importance, is often mentioned in the journals of Arctic ex plorers. It is smaller than the common fox ; has: a sharp nose, and short rounded ears, almost hid den in its fur ; the legs are short, and the tail shorter but more bushy than that of the ordinary fox. In the winter its fur becomes white as snow. Its diet is quite varied, as it lives upon small ani mals, — such as the Arctic hare and the lemming, — fish, shell-fish, all kinds of water-fowl and their eggs, and the refuse of seals left by the Polar bear. Indeed, it is said to hunt in the track of the bear, and so often are they seen in company that some 73 have thought they hunted in couples. But it is not likely that Bruin deigns to notice the poor little fox one way or another, so long as he does not get in his way. The fox can swim as well as the bear, and will cross from island to island in search of prey. Its fur is light and warm, though not very dura- .ble. Yet the little animal is hunted for this fur, as well as for its flesh, which is said to be quite a dainty in the fare of an Arctic navigator. It is, however, both fleet of foot and wary, and is not easily caught in the chase. So traps are often built in order to capture the sly little fellows. The Arctic fox is described by one explorer as "the prettiest and most provoking of living crea tures." One which he vainly chased for fully three hours, was about the size of a domestic cat, round and plump, white as the snow, with a long pointed nose, and a trailing bushy tail, which seemed to be its particular pride. It seemed to enjoy the perplexities of its hunters, as it leaped from rock to rock, or circled round and round them. It rolled and tossed about among the loose drifts of snow, now springing into the air, now bounding away, now stopping short, and cocking its head to one side and lifting one foot, as if listening. At last, tired out with the chase, the hunters returned to their camp, followed by the fox, though always at a safe distance ; and when they last caught sight of him, he was mounted on a rock, uttering his sharp, shrill cry of "Huk! huk ! huk ! " as if mocking them for their defeat. A welcome addition to the meagre fare of an Arctic navigator is furnished by the Arctic hare. Its meat is very white and delicate. As winter approaches, it collects in troops, often of two or three hundred. The Arctic, or Eskimo, dog deserves honorable mention as being of great service both to the in habitants and explorers. He looks considerably like the Arctic wolf. Some of the dogs are black, with white breasts ; some are wholly white ; others are of a reddish or yellowish color ; and many are gray. They are covered with a coarse, thick fur, which is much valued by the natives for making clothing and furnishing their huts. These dogs vary considerably in size and shape, but they all have a pointed nose and short ears. They are famous for their strength, docility, and power of endurance. They were mute, until they learned to bark from Eu ropean dogs on board the discovery ships. We shall have more to say about their usefulness in the foljowing chapter. Arctic £ands and TPeoples. fpUST within the Arctic region, though out- 1 * side the Arctic Circle, lies an island, which, since its discovery in the eighth or ninth century, has been of great interest to both scientific men and explorers. Iceland meas ures about 300 miles at its greatest length, from east to west ; and about 20O miles at its greatest breadth, from north to south. It is some 600 miles from the nearest point of Norway, and 500 miles from the most, northern point of Scot land. Soon after its discovery, by some European sailors, colonies of Norwegians went there to make their home. Christianity was finally introduced; and at last legally established by the government, which in the, tenth century took the form, of a republic. Missions were founded, towns were built, and churches and schools established ; the Icelanders were industrious, and were soon well- known for the extent of their ocean fisheries, and their boldness as sailors. About 932 they dis covered Greenland, and in the latter part of the same century, a portion of the North American coast, which they called " Vineland," little dream ing that it was a great continent. Now, so long as these people were poor and unknown, they were left to enjoy their cold,. bleak land in peace; but when they had begun to pros per and to be heard of for their wealth and ad ventures, the kings of northern Europe began to rub their eyes, and say that it would not do. So in the thirteenth century the island was conquered by Haco, king of Norway, and was no longer independent. After this conquest, much of the old spirit of enterprise seemed to die out. When Norway was united to Denmark, in 1 380, Iceland was included in the bond, and to Denmark it now belongs. The inhabitants of Iceland once num- .bered 100,000, but there are not now much more than half that number. The people, though mostly poor, are noted for their industry, honesty, purity of marais, and a wonderful love of educa tion. In spite of their poverty and adverse cir cumstances, it is uncommon to find an Icelander who cannot read and write. Their language is peculiar to the island, and more like the old Norse than any now spoken. Iceland has some 40,000 square miles of sur face, but only a small portion of this is habitable, all the rest being ice and lava. Quite a portion of the island is occupied by large glaciers, which descend from the wild and desolate mountains of the interior, like frozen torrents, pushing forward into the lowlands and even to the margin of the sea. Iceland has so many volcanoes, that one writer has said that the whole island seemed rest ing on a sea of fire. The largest and best known of these is Mount Hecla, of whose terrible erup- An Eskimo Family. tions much has been said. One lasted six years, spreading ruin over a country which had formerly been the home of a prosperous colony, and bury ing the fields around in a flood of lava and ashes. Clouds of sand and ashes, rising high in air, were blown great distances in all directions, blighting the grass of the field, smothering flocks and herds, and tainting the water of the streams so that the fish died. Even yet Iceland has scarcely recovered from the blow. The climate of Iceland is very variable, and storms of great violence are frequent. The sum mer is moist ; in winter the sky is dark and gloomy, but lighted up at night by the brilliant displays of the aurora borealis. Except a few oats and a kind of wild grass, whose seeds are carefully garnered for food, no grain can be raised ; but potatoes and some kinds of garden vegetables are cultivated during the short summer. Iceland moss, which grows in great ^. ..^ quantities, is much used for food, and is very nu tritious. Meal made from it is used in a variety of ways, and is exported to other countries, where it is considered quite a deli cacy. The most impor tant domestic animal is the sheep, which, with the cow, horse, ox, and dog, were first brought there from Norway. Reindeer roam over the island in large herds. Fish are very abundant on all the coasts, and form a chief support of the inhabitants. Sea birds are very numer ous, but the most useful of these is the eider duck. The present capital and largest town of Ice land is Reikiavik. The better class of its houses are of wood, the others of turf. Few even of the best are more than one story high. There is a stone church capable of seating three or four hun dred ; a college, or school ; a public library ; an ob servatory ; and a print ing office, where newspapers and Icelandic books are printed. The chief prosperity of the place is owing to its excellent harbor and the fish-banks in its neighborhood. On every side of the town stretches a dreary lava plain ; but as the traveler paces the quiet streets, and notices the rows of flower-pots peeping out between white muslin curtains, he is convinced that there are woman- tended homes, even in this bleak land. By far the most numerous people of the Arctic lands are the Eskimos, who seem to be as much the real natives of those deserts of ice and snow to as the Indians were of North America. From Greenland and Labrador, they range over all the coasts of North America, to Alaska. They are the ancient masters of the Arctic wilderness, and all Polar America is their undisputed realm. They confine themselves to the shore, and seldom wan der far inland, or cross extensive seas. Their language and their customs are very nearly the same over all their wide domains. The Eskimos call themselves Inuits, which means simply "men." We natur ally feel like pitying these poor people for the hard fate which places them in one of the dreariest parts of the earth, where only a few mosses and lichens or plants scarcely higher in the scale of creation, can main tain a struggling life ; where land animals and birds are few in number ; and where it would be impossible for human beings to exist, were it not for the food and cloth ing which the ocean waters so generously yield. But this land isp their home, and they probably would not be willing to ex change it for ours. Indeed, some who have been brought here by explorers, have been uneasy until they could return to their own country and people. The Eskimos are rather short of stat ure, but stalwart and broad shouldered. They have narrow foreheads and broad, flat noses. The men have little or no beards ; but the hair of the head is long, straight, coarse, and black. In both sexes the hands and feet are small and well- formed, The dress of the men and women is very nearly alike, the main object in that severe climate being to keep warm, and still have the clothing as light as possible. And though you might not think their style of dress very becoming, we must admit that it is well adapted to their life and climate. They wear two pairs of trousers, the inner of reindeer skin, with the warm, soft hair next the flesh, while the outer pair is of seal-skin. They also wear two jackets made of the same materials as the trousers. The outer one has a large hood which, when drawn up, completely covers the head, and sometimes all the face, except the eyes. Their boots are made of seal-skin, lined with rein deer fur or the soft and downy coats of birds. The outer jacket of the women is usually a little longer than that of the men, and is provided with an extra hood, in which to carry their babies when on a journey. In the summer one of the fur suits is laid aside. Some of the Eskimo belles plait their black and glossy hair with much care and some taste, and tattoo their forehead, cheeks, and chin. ¦ Their boots, as well as those of the young men, are An Eskimo Village. often colored red, blue, yellow, or white trimmed with one of the other colors. An igloo, or Eskimo house, is usually built of snow. The word may mean either "house" or " room," but since their houses never have more than one room, it applies equally well to both. It must be known that the Eskimos are a nomadic, or wandering, people ; and sometimes at points that are regularly occupied during the winter months, igloos are built of stones, with moss piled up around and over them, so that when cov ered by the winter snows, they make very com fortable dwellings. But the ordinary Eskimo re house is made of blocks of snow or ice, which are cut out in regular form with a snow-knife, made of reindeer or musk-ox bones. The builder of an igloo first clears the snow away from a space large enough for his house, leaving the solid ice at the bottom for a floor! The igloo is built in the form of a dome, and is usually about ten or twelve feet in diameter at the base. All cracks and openings are carefully chinked in with loose snow. This work is usually done by the women and children. The builders stand in the inside of the igloo while they work, so that when the dome is done, they are com- An Eskimo Seal-Hunter. pletely walled in.. With the snow-knife a door1 about two feet high is then cut in one side. From this is usually built out a long, low passage way, by which the 'hut is entered, and which keeps out the wind and storm, and lets in air. This open ing is seldom closed except sometimes at night, and then only to keep out the dogs and wolves. Small windows are cut in the sides of the hut, and thin pieces of ice used for glass. Covered passages are often carried from one hut to another. When all is done, the igloo is banked up with snow for several feet, and snow thrown lightly over the whole top. The snow cut out in making the doorway is used to make a wide bank, or shelf, three or four feet high, along one side of the hut ; and this is the family bed, which they call the breck. The house being done, it passes into the hands of the women, who arrange the beds, and put up the lamps for lighting, warming, and cooking. The snow bed is first covered with moss to the depth of several inches, and then with rein deer, bear, or seal skins'. There are more skins sewed together for coverings at night. Couches and seats are made in the same way as the bed, but npt all the igloos have them, the bed being often used for that purpose. The lamps are made of soapstone, and are very much like a clam-shell in shape. They look more like a dish than a lamp to us. They are filled with oil obtained from the blubber of the whale or seal. Along the straight edge of the lamp is a wick made of moss, which burns quite brightly. It is the busi ness of the women to prevent the lamps from smoking, and to keep them supplied with blub ber, large pieces of which are put into the lamp, the heat drawing out the oil. About three inches above the flame, is an oblong pot, also of soapstone, and in this the water for cooking and drinking is melted, and the meat is stewed. Still above this hangs a rack, made of bare rib-bones bound together* crosswise, and on this stockings, mittens, and other garments are laid to dry. There is no other fire but that which the lamps supply, nor is any other needed. Sometimes it gets so warm in the igloo that the water begins to drop from the ceiling. One of the women then makes a ball of snow, and presses against the spot, and perhaps also puts out one of the lamps. When one ball is filled with water, she replaces it with another. During the short summer the Eskimos live in tents made of skins; and it is then that they are very busy laying up stores of food for winter. They depend chiefly upon fishing and hunting. In the spring the opening streams give them a good chance to spear and catch the fish which come there to spawn. Next they go inland to hunt the reindeer, with its young, which are at that time of a tender age, and easily caught. In the spring they also take large quantities of swans, ducks, and geese. In the months of July and August they capture numbers of whales. But probably there is no one animal so useful and in dispensable to the Eskimos as the seal, and its near relative, the walrus ; and they certainly show great patience and skill in catching these animals. Seal-hunting varies with the time of year and the nature of the ice, for they are seldom killed except upon or through the ice. In the warm, still days of spring, they come up through their blow-holes in the ice to enjoy a roll in the snow, or a quiet nap in the sun. They are then killed quite easily. The hunter creeps along on his hands and knees or draws him self along on the ice until he is within easy range, when the shot is fired which, if in the head or neck, puts an end to the poor seal's life. Guns are quite common among the Eskimos, they having ob tained them from time to time of exploring and whaling vessels, in ex change for supplies of meat or furs. But if the hunter has no gun, he must get close enough to kill the seal with a spear. However, unless he chances to catch one of them asleep in the sun, the hunter has to be very slow and cautious in his movements, as the seal has sharp eyes, and seems always on the alert for danger. As the summer advances, the eyes of the seals are so affected by the fierce rays of the sun that they often become nearly blind, and are then much more easily taken. During the winter months they do not come out upon the ice, and so must be hunted through their blow-holes. The blow-hole is a place which the seal gnaws in the ice, so that he may come there when he likes, to get a puff of fresh air. At the hunter's first visit to one of these holes, he simply marks the spot, and builds around it a sort of snow embankment. The second time he comes to wait for the seal, which is often a tedious time. Sometimes the seal comes up within half an hour, and again the hunter will sit by the hole all night long, and sometimes for a day or two. During all this time he must keep perfectly still — that is, he Eskimo Dogs. must not walk around, or move his feet on the ice, or the seal will hear, and be frightened away. In the early spring, the mother-seal, instead of seeking the shore, sometimes builds a shelter, or house, of snow, over a blow-hole ; and here her young are born, and remain until they are old enough to take to the water. This house is called an oglow by the Eskimos. During the season that the young seals are likely to be in these oglows, 78 the hunter breaks in with his heel every hummock of snow he comes across. The poor little seal, which is not wise enough to " run " from its enemy, is then easily killed with a spear, and dragged out upon the ice ; and the hunter waits for the mother, which is never a long time absent from her baby. Walruses are captured in the same way as seals, but as they are quite apt to be found on cakes of loose ice, they are often hunted in boats. They are so strong and large that two hunters generally go together, it being too hard for one man to hold the spear-line. An average-sized walrus weighs about a thousand or twelve hundred pounds ; and when it is remembered that every particle is made useful to the Eskimo, even to the bones, we shall see that one of them is a valuable prize to the captors. The catching of a walrus is generally the occasion of a common feast for the whole Village. It would seem to us that the quantity of wal rus meat^ which the Eskimos take during a season of plenty ought, alone, to keep them above the possibility of winter want ; for they are not idle, but hunt with' scarcely the loss of a day, when the weather is at all suitable. When it storms, they busy themselves in storing away the spoils of previous hunts. For this purpose they dig a pit,/ inside which the jointed meat is stocked, and covered with heavy stones. But in a very cold climate it takes much more food to sustain life than in temperate lands. We are told on relia ble authority that an Eskimo eats on an average eight or ten pounds of meat a day ! When meat is plenty, they often eat four or five times in the course of a day and night. Then, according to their ancient customs, all share the stores in common, and no one family is any better off for its greater industry. A village comfortably pro vided for the winter is very liable to be visited by another colony less fortunate, which according to their laws of hospitality, must be taken in and fed as long as they choose to stay, be it days or weeks. And then there are the dogs, of which each family must have several, to say nothing of those of the visitors. And so it happens not un- frequently that they get out of food, and must go hunting even in severe winter weather, for what ever will satisfy hunger. The Eskimo dogs are very indispensable to their masters. They not only help them in hunt ing, but draw their sledges ; and if you should take a ride in the Eskimo country, it would have to be after a team of dogs ! There are from five to fifteen dogs put in a team, according to the load to be drawn ; but seven or nine is a usual number. The dogs are fastened to the sledge by a harness made either of reindeer or seal-skin. One of the best dogs is always selected as leader, —one which is both intelligent and industrious. He works as if the load was being drawn by him alone, and so sets an example to the others. He goes tugging along in his harness, his head bent over, his mouth open, and tongue lolling out, and with ears ever ready to catch the word of com mand. But these faithful servants are not very kindly used. Their masters beat them severely, and if food happens to be scarce, they must often go for days without a morsel. The Eskimos are fond of riding on the sled while traveling, and so long as there is a spot that can hold one more, will pile on, no matter how heavy the load for the poor dogs. A good team of dogs will draw a load of fifteen hundred pounds at the rate of three or four miles an hour. It is said that these dogs will do more work, with less food, than any other animal in existence. When the hunters start out, they go with a sledge and dogs ; then when they have reached the scene of action, the dogs are let loose, and assist in the hunt. If successful, they must draw home the booty, as well as their masters. Sometimes the dogs are used as pack animals, and carry heavy loads strapped to them. The amount which one of them will thus carry is often more than his own weight. Though so illy used, these poor, creatures show great affec tion for their masters. The Eskimo kayak, or boat, is a long narrow canoe. It is made of a light framework of wood, or seal or walrus bones, and covered water-tight with seal-skin. The top of the boat is also cov ered with skin, leaving only a place in the midr die large enough for the body of the rower. When he has taken his seat, he binds around his waist a sack made of the skins of young seals, so closely that even in a rolling sea the boat remains water tight. In this he darts over the waves like an arrow ; and even if upset, he can speedily right himself and his buoyant skiff. The oomiak, or woman's boat, is also made of a framework cov ered with seal-skins ; but it is not covered on top, and is large enough to hold ten or twelve. There are seats for the women who row, and some times a rude sail made of the entrails of the seal. The women among the Eskimos have a hard life, and are treated as inferiors to the men, which is the custom among most uncivilized peoples. They say it is proper to whip women, " It makes them good." And when one of these powerful Inuits strikes his wife, it is no love tap, but a blow that would stagger a man. Most of them have two wives. There are no wedding cere monies among them., and marriages are usually arranged when the parties are yet children. The dry them at night, while the men sleep. A "good wife" in the eyes of an Eskimo, is one who sleeps but little after a hard day's march, but attends constantly to the articles upon the drying frame, turning them over and replacing the dry with wet ones. She gets up long before any one else is awake, and looks all the clothing over carefully to see what mending is needed. She sits with her feet under her in the Turkish Sledging father of the boy selects a little girl to be his daughter-in-law, and pays her father something, — a snow-knife, a sled, or a dog. When the little wife has got her growth, she goes to live with her husband. When they go on a journey, it is the women and children who must walk, if the load is too heavy. If the dogs become tired, and need help, the women must put on a harness and help them, while the men ride or trudge along by the sled. It is the duty of the women to attend con stantly to the lamps, to melt water for drinking and cooking, and to cook the food. They also turn the wet shoes and stockings inside out and IN Lam-and. fashion, and thus she remains all day long before her lamp, engaged in making clothing, cooking, or other household duties. She is never idle ; when her other tasks are done, she busies herself in ¦ chewing the skins for clothing, to make them pliable. When at work, she lifts up her voice and sings. The tune lacks melody, but not power ; and it is a relief to her weary soul. She is the slave of her husband and children, and is treated to more abuse than affection. The Eskimos do not have magistrates or laws, yet good order usually prevails among them, and quarrels are rare. When difficulties arise, their usual method of settling the dispute is for those 80 concerned to assemble in some igloo, with several of the old men, and talk the matter over, until some settlement is reached. All the women must leave the hut where the talk is to be held. Advice from the older and more experienced is usually taken and acted upon by the younger. When things cannot be settled peaceably in this way, one or the other of the dissatisfied parties usually collects his little store, and goes to ¦ a different settlement to live. In spite, of the hard conditions of their life and the dreariness of the region where they dwell, the Eskimos are a cheerful and good-natured people. They will seldom steal from their own countrymen, as it is considered a great disgrace to be called " a thief ; " but it is no shame for them fo rob the white man. And most of them will do it every time they get a chance, no matter how much he may have done for them. They seem to know little gratitude, and can be trusted only when they are made to understand that any offense of the kind will be severely punished. Greenland, though once peopled wholly by Eskimos, has now quite a number of Danish and Norwegian settlements, mostly on the western coast. Colonies from Iceland began to settle in Greenland soon after its discovery ; but these orig inal settlers perished by a pestilence called the " black death," so that when the country was re-discovered in 1587, there were only a few traces left of the former colonies. Missionary stations and schools have been es tablished for the native Eskimos, and thus many of them have not only been converted to Christian ity, but have been taught to read and write. Those living near the settlements have also learned many of the ways of civilization from1 the Euro peans, and have intermarried with them to some extent. The most northern town of Greenland is Upernavik, on the west coast. It has two or three hundred inhabitants, of which fifty or- more are Danes, a larger number half-breeds, and the remainder .native Greenlanders, or Eskimos. The town contains a governrnent house ; a few shops ; lodging-houses for the Danish officials ; some tim ber houses inhabited by- Danes; huts of stone and turf, and, seal-skin tents, in which the half-breeds and natives live. There is a neat little stone church and a parsonage. All the Danish settlements are much alike, varying but little except in the number of their inhabitants. Jacqbshav'n is noted for being one of the most ancient of the. mission stations in 81 Greenland. Besides a church, it boasts a col lege for the education of natives who wish to be come fitted to teach their countrymen. Before the coming of the missionaries, they had no writ ten language ; but a printing office has lately been put in operation at Godthaab, where printing is done in the Eskimo tongue. Lapland, or the land of the Lapps, is the most northern country of Europe. It is bounded on the north by the Arctic Ocean, east by the White Sea, and in all other parts by Russia, Sweden, and Norway. This country is exposed to the intense cold of a Polar climate, and the mountains are covered with perpetual snow. The greater part of it comes within that wooded zone which was described in a previous chapter. The for ests, consisting of birch, pine, and fir, spread over all the middle and southern part ; but. toward the north the trees disappear, and the country is a dreary plain, covered with heaps of barren rock, with here and there a scanty patch of birchen or willow shrubs and reindeer moss. The Lapps are a nation of dwarfs. The tall est of the men are not above five feet high, and the women are still shorter. But they make up in breadth what they lack in hight, and are very strong and robust. Like the Eskimos, their hair is long, black, and straight, and the men have no whiskers. In winter, which is nearly all the year, they dress in fur clothing, much like the Eskimos ; in summer they wear a kind of coarse woolen cloth. Their diet is almost entirely animal food. Those who dwell along the coast live on fish and the other things , which the Arctic seas afford ; while those who have their homes among the mountains live mostly on the flesh and milk of the reindeer, of which they have large herds. A wealthyi Lapp often owns a thousand or rr.oreof these useful animals. In winter they feed on moss ^arid lichens, and in summer on grass ; and their owners must go from place to place to find them pasture, and very vigilant they must be to keep their herds from the wolves. The reindeer is not only valuable for its milk, flesh, and hide, but it is trained to draw sledges over the snow. These pulks, as the Laplanders call them, are shaped some like a boat. The reindeer will sometimes travel with them, at the fate of ten miles an hour. Little bells are often fastened to the horns of the reindeer, and the animals seem to enjoy their music as much as their masters do.- The Lapps are famous, skaters, and when they do hot wish to go by sledge, they travel from 6 place to place on their skates, or skidas, which When a chief man dies, his friends sacrifice rein- they make of fir-wood and reindeer skin. They deer over his grave after the funeral, and for sev- get over the ground very fast in this way, and eral years following. An image is fashioned to can run down the swiftest wild beasts. The Lapp represent the dead man, and this is kept in his is a great hunter, and will even encounter the tent, and as much respect paid it as to the man bear single-handed The mountain Lapps live in conical tents, cov ered in summer with a coarse cloth, and in win ter with the skins of reindeer and other animals. The huts of the fisher, or shored Lapps are built himself in his life-time. It is undressed and laid in his bed every night, and is put in his seat at every meal. For three years these honors, are kept up, and then the image is buried, from a belief that by that time the body must have de- of sods, and roofed with birch bark. The floors cayed, and lost all recollection of the past. are strewed with branches of fir-tree, and over these are spread skins, on which the family sit and lie. The fire is made of wood, on a large flat stone in the center of the tent or hut, which offers, robbers. A Kamtschatkan Sledge and Tf.am. keeps the place constantly full of smoke. A square opening in the roof serves as chimney, and lets in the light and air — to say nothing of rain and snow. During the winter, the Lapps carry on some trade with the Swedes, bartering skins, furs, dried fish, and venison, for woolen cloth, metals, tobacco, meal, salt, etc. They lead a wan dering life, and have no cities or villages. The Samojedes are the nearest neighbors of the Lapps on the east. Like them, they are a Wandering people ; but they are even less civil ized, and have profited less by the labors of the missionaries sent to them. They roam over the forests and stony tundras of northern Russia and western Siberia, driving their herds of reindeer from the banks of the Khatanga to the icy shores of, the White Sea, or hunting the wild beasts in the dense forests between the Obi and Yenisei rivers. They are a very superstitious people> and have many strange customs among them. These people have a coarse, cruel nature, and are both fierce and cunning. They are shep herds, hunters, traders — and when opportunity - Like the other Arctic peoples, they clothe themselves in furs. They shave off their hair, except one large tuft on the top of the head, which they allow to grow. , The women adorn themselves with a belt of gilded copper, and with glass beads and other such ornaments. The remainder of northern, or Arctic, Siberia is occupied by the Ostiaks, the Jakuts (or Yakouts), and several other tribes of less importance. These, as well as the Samojedes, are all great hunters of the white bear. The Ostiaks and Jakuts * seem to belong to the same gen eral family as the -Samojedes ; but they are more honest and good-natured than they. Their women are sold as wives to the highest bidder, the price varying according to the wealth of her father. Thus the daughter of a rich man sells for fifty reindeer, while the one of a poor man will bring only " half a dozen 'dried fish and a handful of squirrel-skins." We now reach the peninsula of Kamtchatka. Its climate is much milder than that of Siberia, it being affected by the warm breezes from the Pacific Ocean. This country is famous for its fisheries. In the spring, salmon are very plenty in its streams. The coasts swarm in like manner with aquatic birds, which roost and breed in every crag and ledge, in every niche and hollow ; and in the pursuit of these birds and their eggs the natives show great skill and daring. Bare-footed, and without the aid of ropes, they descend the steepest cliffs, which the foaming waters make it impossible to reach from below. The Kamtchat- kan dog is as useful to the natives as is the Eskimo 82 dog to that people. These dog-teams are of great service where horses would be useless, because they would sink in the deep snow ; while the dogs skip along on the light crust, which is not so thick as in Lapland and other colder countries. The Kamtchatkans are much afflicted with small pox, and by the ravages of this disease their numbers are kept reduced so that the whole pop ulation of the peninsula does not usually exceed seven or eight thousand.. All these Arctic peoples suffer, and are strong, in a sense that the poet never thought of when he wrote those lines : — " Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong." Historical Sketch of Arctic Discovery. if*51' S long ago as the reign of Henry VIII., of England, a certain Dr. Robert Thome declared that " if he had facultie to his jj^ will, the first thing he would understande \Z even to attempt, would be if our seas north- warde be navigable to the Pole or no." And we are told that the king, at his desire, "sent two fair ships, well-manned and vict ualled, having in them divers cunning men, to seek strange regions ; and' so they set forth out of the Thames, the 20th day of May, in the nine teenth year of his reign, which was the year of our Lord 1527." Of the particulars of this voy age, however, we have no records, except that one of the ships was wrecked on the coast of New foundland. A second Arctic voyage was under taken by a wealthy London gentleman in 1536, but their ship was also wrecked on the foggy coasts of Newfoundland, where the majority of the crew perished, and the remainder found home ward passage in a French ship. In the reign of Edward VI., through the influence of Sebastian Cabot, another expedition with two ships was fitted out. They were cast away on a desolate part of the Lapland coast, at the mouth of> the river Arzina. They entered the river in September, 1563; and "seeing the year far spent, and also very evil weather, as frost, snow, and hail, as though it had been the deep of winter," they thought it best to winter there. But unaccustomed to the rigors of a Northern winter, and doubtless without sufficient clothing, the brave adventurers perished one by one; and many months afterwards their bleached bones were discovered by some Russian fishermen. About this time a great seaman by the name of Stephen Burrough, sailed in his own ship as far north as Novaia Zemlaia ; but he made up his mind to return, "first, because of the north winds, which blew continually ; second, the great and terrible abundance of ice which we saw with our eyes ; and third, because the nights waxed dark." Some twenty years later, on a bright May morning, Queen Elizabeth waved a farewell to Martin Frobisher and his gallant company, as they sailed down the Thames. They crossed the Atlantic, and reached the coast of Labrador the latter part of July. They discovered a passage which they named " Frobisher Strait," and made the mistake of supposing that it connected the Atlantic with the Pacific. During this voyage they saw some Eskimos, which Frobisher described as " strange infidels, whose like was never seen, read, nor heard of before, with long black hair, broad faces, and flat noses, and ' tawny in color ; wearing seal-skins, the women marked in the face with blue streaks down the cheeks, and round about the eyes." He also found quantities of something which he believed to be gold ore, and carried back the report of fabulous wealth to England. So great was the enthusiasm over his discov eries that a fleet of vessels was fitted out; and, loaded with people and stores, sent out by him to found a colony in his newly-discovered land. He steered for the new-found strait, but arriving there early in June, he found it blocked with ice and icebergs ; and the ship carrying " wooden houses and stores for the colony" was run against by an iceberg, and sunk. The other ships were scattered by a great, storm, and so disabled that when they again got together, they concluded to return to England. This they did, carrying with them loads of the "gold ore," which proved, how ever, to be nothing but dross. But these failures did not take away the at traction from these far Northern seas, with their possibilities of wealth and glory, — the two great prizes which the world has ever sought. In 1585, two vessels were sent out by some private parties, under the command1 of Captain John Davis. He reached the west coast of Greenland, and though in July, so cheerless was its appearance that he named it the " Land of Desolation." Sailing away to the north-west, he discovered and crossed 83 the strait which still bears his name, and then returned to England, where he arrived sometime in September. He afterward went on two other voyages to the North seas. On the ist of May, 1607, Henry Hudson set sail from Greenwich, with the avowed purpose of discovering a passage by the North Pole to China, Japan, and the East Indies, — in other words, the " North-East Passage ", mentioned in an earlier chapter. He first touched land on the cold, grim coast of eastern Greenland. Steering from here to the north-east, he reached the shores of Spitz bergen, where his men picked up various fragments of whalebone, reindeer horns, walrus teeth, and The Breaking Up of the 'Ice. relics of other animals. He explored the west coast of Spitzbergen, but finding so much heavy ice, he concluded to return to England till another season. On his homeward voyage he discovered an island, which he named for himself; but- it was afterward, for some unknown reason, changed to Jan Mayen. The practical result of this voy age was that his account of the quantities of whales and walruses in the Spitzbergen seas led to the establishment of rich and prosperous fish eries, which flourished for two centuries. Hudson afterward made two voyages to the North seas, and on the second of these he discovered the great bay which still bears his name. On this voyage a mutiny arose among his crew, and he, with nine who remained faithful to him, was set adrift on the open sea. So perished the brave explorer, for he was never heard of again. 13 But it would take a large book to tell of all the expeditions which have been sent out to visit the frozen regions of the North. We can only mention some of the most important of them, which will serve to give you a very good idea of the experiences of all. During the years I594--6 two expeditions were sent out by some merchants of Amsterdam, Holland, under the command of William Barents, an enthusiastic sailor of the Northern seas. His object was to find a passage around the northern end of Novaia Zemlaia. During his first voyage he explored the long line of coast from Cape Nassau to the Orange Islands ; and so exact were his calculations that they have been acknowledged as correct by modern explorers. But his men becoming weary of labor which seemed to them to yield no positive result, Barents was obliged to return home. On his second voyage he discovered Bear Island. He reached the coast of Novaia Zemlaia on the 17th of July. And so anxious was he to accomplish his object that he remained north so late as to be shut in by the Polar ice. His vessel was finally driven into a bay on the coast of Novaia Zemlaia, where he and his sixteen followers "were forced, in great poverty, mis ery, and griefe, to stay all the 1 winter." For the heavy pack- ice, drifting into the bay, closed it up, and gathered around the ship, till she was "held fast, as in iron bonds." The crew prepared to en counter the long Arctic night with good heart. With driftwood and some planks from the vessel, they built a hut on the shore, into which they removed all their stores and provisions. They fixed a chimney in the center of the roof; a Dutch clock was set up, which duly struck the weary hours ; and sleeping berths were made along the walls. They suffered much, but endured their sufferings bravely ; and celebrated Christmas with " a little sack of flour, two pounds of meat, and some merry games." The ship's gunner drew the prize, and became King of Novaia Zemlaia, "which is at least two hundred miles long, and lyeth between two seas." Up to the 8th of May the ice was every- 84 where, and their " sad eyes could look forth on no pleasant, or hopeful scene." Then it began to break up, and the weary explorers prepared to tempt the sea once more. Their ship was too much crippled and strained by the ice to be sea worthy, so they strengthened their two boats as best they could, and on the 14th of June quitted the place of their long captivity. Barents drew up in writing a list of their names, with a brief record of their experiences, and left in the wooden hut, With the most of their belongings. He him self was so reduced by sickness, want, and anxiety that he was unable to stand, and had to be car ried into the boat. ( He died a few days after, to the great grief of his comrades, who appreciated his manly character, and relied on his judgment and skill. His grave was beneath the cold Arctic seas. The castaways met with many difficulties from the ice. Sometimes they camped on a floe, and more than once the ice broke up under them, and precipitated some of their number into the sea. They were often obliged to drag their boats long distances over the rough surface of the ice-fields to reach open water. < There are many instances on record of long ocean voyages in open boats, but perhaps none more miraculous in its character than this one — when two small crazy boats sailed the frozen seas for eleven hundred miles, contin ually in danger from icebergs, threatened by bears, and exposed for forty days to the combined trials of sickness, famine, ,cold, and weariness. They reached Lapland toward the last of August, and were cared for by the friendly Lapps. They found passage on a Dutch vessel, and reached home in safety in October, TS97, with no loss of life, except the brave Barents. But a strange, sequel of this voyage remains to be told. No voyager seems to have rounded the north-east point of bleak Novaia Zemlaia after Barents, until 1869, when a Norwegian expedition, under Captain Carlsen, reached Ice Haven, and discovered a rude wooden house standing at the head of the bay. Heaps of bones of seal, bear, reindeer, and walrus, were collected around the hut. It was the winter prison of Barents and his companions, and had evidently never been entered by human foot since they had left it. The cooking-pans stood over the fire-place, the old clock hung against the wall ; there were the books, tools, and weapons, which had been of so much service two hundred and seventy-eight years before! It seemed like a fairy tale. Captain Carlsen succeeded in the undertaking in which Barents perished, — that of sailing entirely around Novaia Zemlaia. William Baffin and Robert Bylot, Englishmen, undertook an Arctic voyage in 161 5, and another the year following. Baffin ascended Melville Bay, and touching the head of the great basin now known by his name, sailed down its western coast. These were very successful voyages, and -opened up the principal north-west channels into the Polar re gions. Numerous others undertook voyages to the Arctic seas, but made no new discoveries of much account ; and for nearly two hundred years the enthusiasm on the subject seemed to have nearly died out. But so much had been said about the " North- West Passage," that in 18 18 the British government determined to make thorough research, and dis cover to a certainty " if there be any such route to the other side of the world." They therefore fitted up an expedition and sent out under the command of Captain Parry. He spent one win ter in the Arctic seas, and returned to England in 4 the autumn of 1820. He had made several im- , portant discoveries, and gained much useful infor mation ; and so well pleased was the government with his efforts that he was sent out on another voyage the year following. In 1824 Parry under took a third voyage, but with less than his usual success. One of his ships, the Fury, was driven ashore by the pressure of the pack-ice, and so damaged that he was obliged to leave her, and remove her crew and stores to the Hecla. On his fourth and last expedition, in 1827, he made the bold attempt of trying to cross the icy sea in light boats and sledges, — taking to the boats when their progress was hindered by water, and using the sledges in crossing the ice-fields. They under went great hardships, and forced their way far north, but were finally compelled by the drifting snow-fields to return to their ships, and sail for England. And still the long-sought passage was not discovered. The same year that Parry was first sent out, the British government also dispatched an over land expedition to ascertain the exact position of the Coppermine River, to descend to its mouth, and to explore the Arctic sea-coast on either hand. The command was given to Lieutenant John Franklin. They were gone two years and a half, and the record of what was accomplished and endured by the members reads like a romance. Franklin afterward went on several Arctic voyages, 8S and so great was his success that he was honored by being made a knight by the British govern ment. It was in the spring of 1845 that Sir John, in command of the Erebus and Terror, with experi enced officers and one hundred thirty-seven picked sea-men, set out on his last voyage to the Polar seas. Two years passed, and no news reached England of Franklin and his companions. And as time passed on, and no tidings came, men first grew anxious, then alarmed ; and it was determined other utensils which had evidently belonged to the ship's crew. In 1854 Dr. Rae, a noted Arctic explorer, obtained of the Eskimos some spoons and other pieces of silver marked with the names of officers of the lost Erebus and Terror. He also learned through them of a large party of " white men " which had been seen on King William's Land, but they had all perished four years before. In the summer of 1857, Captain McClintock gained other valuable information from an old Eskimo woman ; and one of his sledg- Discovery of the • Cairn Containing Franklin's Papers. to search for the missing heroes. Several expe ditions were sent out for this purpose, but they got no news of them. But the wife of Sir John would not rest till she knew the fate of her hus band ; and when her own government gave up the search, she applied for help to other nations. The United States government, as well as private individuals, responded to her appeal ; and more ships were sent to search for the lost explorers. The experiences of some of these expeditions are of thrilling interest in their own right, though they did not accomplish the object of their search. In 1850 the first clue was found of the Frank lin expedition. This was three graves of the lost ones, on Beechey Island, with head-stones, on which the inscriptions were perfectly legible; also part of a tent, scraps of canvas and rope, a rake, and 86 ing parties discovered a cairn on King William's Land, containing a brief account of the Franklin expedition up to the time the ships were aban doned. The record , said that Sir John had died on the nth of June, 1847; and so he escaped the still more terrible trials from which his fol lowers suffered, ere death relieved them. Quite a number of relics were also found in and around the cairn. From time to time additional particulars have been obtained of the sad fate of these lest ex plorers ; and as late as 1879 important informa tion was gained by a searching party sent out by the United States, under command of Lieutenant Frederick Schwatka. They found the skeletons of some of the crew ; and the body of one, Lieu tenant Irving, of the Terror, was found in a grave, and so well preserved that it was sent to his friends in Scotland. The bodies of the others had evidently been torn from their graves by the Eskimos in search of valuables which might be buried with them. Their bones, which lay bleach ing on the sands, were carefully gathered, buried in graves, and fitting monuments set above. Many things valuable as relics were also obtained, and these were sent to the British Admiralty, and added to the collection already brought home by other searching parties. It may be interesting to know that one of the British ships sent out on this search, Captain Robert McClure in command, succeeded in the enterprize in which Franklin perished, — the finding of the " North-West Passage." Though interesting from a geographical point of view, it was satisfactorily proved that the route could never be of any practical use. One of the most interesting of Arctic expedi tions, both in its experiences and results, was that sent out from Boston, in 1853, by the United States government, in search of Franklin. It was under the command of Dr. Elisha Kane. Though he did not succeed in his primary object, he made some remarkable additions to our knowledge of the Polar regions. They reached Rensselaer Bay, on the east coast of Smith's Sound, by the middle of August ; and here their ship was frozen in -by the ice, and they spent the winter. The next summer they made numerous sledging expe ditions, exploring the coast of Greenland as far as the great Humboldt Glacier, and beyond. But the ice did not liberate their vessel, as they expected it would, and they were obliged to spend a second winter in their old quarters, dur ing which they suffered greatly, and barely escaped utter starvation. In May of the second spring of their bondage, they abandoned their ship, which Was still frozen in the ice, and started with sledges and boats homeward. After a journey of eighty-four days and almost untold suffering, they arrived at Upernavik, Greenland, where they were kindly welcomed by the Danes. Dr. Kane reached New York in safety, but the hardships of his Arctic life had been too great for him, and in 1857 the gallant explorer died, in the thirty-seventh year of his age. The story of his Arctic experi ences is of thrilling interest. A German expedition sent out for the purpose of exploration, in 1868, passed through great hard ships. The two ships, the Germania and the Hansa, became separated in the Arctic seas, near Jan Mayen, and the Hansa lost her reckoning. The ship becoming frozen in the ice, was so strained and pressed that the crew dared not under take to winter in it. So they removed their stores to the ice, and built there a hut of the large blocks of coal, which had been brought along to feed the ship's fires. Before this was fairly completed, the Hansa sunk, though they succeeded in saving most of their stores. This was the middle of October, and they remained on their ice-floe till spring, which meanwhile drifted south ward. The 7th of May they took to their boats, which they alternately rowed, and dragged over the broken and hummoeky ice. (See cut, page 52.) They reached Friedrichstal, a mission station of Greenland, on the 13th of June, having been adrift for two hundred days, suffering much from the cold and lack of food. An American expedition, under Captain Charles Francis Hall, sailed from Brooklyn, in the Polaris, in 1871. This vessel reached a point nearer the Pole than any ship before it, although other par ties had gone farther with their sledges ; and Captain Hall, raising an American flag, took pos session of the surrounding region of ice and snow, " in the name of the Lord, and for the President of the United States." This expedition bade fair to be a very successful one ; but before the first winter had really set in, the brave and enthusiastic commander sickened and died, and found a grave beneath the Arctic snows. The crew of the Polaris spent that winter in the ship without serious difficulties. The sum mer came, and passed away ; and still the vessel lay beset among the ice, though it drifted south ward, with the floe in which it was locked. It became evident to the explorers that they would have to spend a second winter in captivity ; and as their ship was already strained, they began to make a store-house for provisions on the ice, in case the ship entirely failed them. As they were engaged in this, suddenly the floe cracked and broke asunder, and the ship drove away into the darkness, leaving nineteen souls on the ice. Among these were two Eskimos, with their wives and children. The piece of the floe on which they were cast was nearly circular, and about four miles in circumference. They had some , provision, two boats, and the two kayacks of the Eskimos. It was on the 15 th of October that they were cast away, and on this cake of ice they remained till April 30th, when they were rescued by a whaling vessel. The record of their adven tures seems almost too wonderful to believe. Without the skillful Eskimos they must certainly have perished from cold and hunger. Just to think of it — more than six months on a cake of ice, amid all the perils of an Arctic winter ! Those who remained on the Polaris when she drifted away, though soon obliged to abandon their ship/ spent a comparatively comfortable and uneventful winter, and found homeward passage the following summer. It seems almost a mira cle that during the whole of this adventurous expe dition, there was no loss of life, except that of Captain Hall. Encouraged by the success of the Polaris in reaching a high northern latitude, the ( British government sent out an expedition in 1875, under command of Captain Nares. Their two vessels, the Alert and the Discovery, were very strongly built, and fitted put with every power and con venience which experience in those icy regions would suggest, and money could supply. Their object was to reach .the North Pole ; but in this they did not succeed, though they did raise the British flag farther north than any one had before penetrated. Though they wintered nearer the Pole than any ship before them, they found so safe a harbor and were so abundantly supplied with everything needful, that the winter was passed in comparative comfort. While on their numerous sledging journeys, they made new explorations, and gained much valuable information. They visited the lonely grave of Captain Hall, of the Polaris, and paid a touching tribute to his mem ory by erecting above his grave a brass tablet, bearing a fitting inscription. Though enduring many hardships, and often in danger, the party reached England in safety, with their vessels. In 1879, Adolf Eric Nordenskjold, a Swedish explorer, sailed in the Vega on an expedition , to the Arctic seas. After a somewhat event ful voyage, he succeeded in the undertaking in which so many have failed, — the finding of a North-East Passage, — making his way along the northern coast of Asia, and entering the Pacific through Behring Strait. There were some pecul iarly favorable conditions, which enabled him to do what so many others had tried in vain to do ; but it was certainly a triumph to have succeeded under any circumstances. So far as any practical use is concerned, however, the route will, be of as little service as the "North- West Passage." There sailed from San Francisco, July 8, 1879, the ship Jeannette, commanded by Captain George DeLong. This expedition was sent out by the United States government, under the patronage of James Gordon Bennett, the wealthy publisher of the New York Herald. Captain DeLong's directions were to ascertain, if possible, the whereabouts of Nordenskjold (who was then making the voyage previously referred to), and give him any help he might need. This duty performed, he was to be free to pursue Polar ex plorations in any direction which he might see fit. He sailed through Behring Strait, into that part of the Arctic Ocean lying north of Asia. The ship was caught in the pack-ice within two months after she left port ; she was frozen in before the end of November, and never came out of the ice again. The account of the two years spent , in the ice has little to make it interesting. On June 12, 1 88 1, the Jeannette having sprung a leak, the crew left her, and encamped on the ice, with their stores. The next day the good ship went to the bottom, and the explorers started out with their five sledges and three boats. At this sea son of the year the ice was covered with deep, slushy snow, which made the traveling slow and difficult. July 4th Captain DeLong wrote in his diary: "Three years ago to-day the Jeannette was chris tened, and many pleasant things were said,. and an ticipations formed, all of which have gone down with the ship. I little thought then that three years afterward would see us all out on the ice, with nothing, accomplished and the story of a lost ship to come back to our well-wishers -at home.' ¦ • • It will be hard to be known hereafter as a man who undertook a Polar expedition, and sunk his ship at the 77th parallel." On the 29th of July the monotony of their jour ney was broken by the discovery of an island, which DeLong named Bennett Island, and took possession of in the name of the United States. They rested here for a day or two, and then went on in their old way. The middle of September found them at the mouth of the Lena River, wandering about, among the net-work of streams which forms its delta. They were weak and weary' from exposure and . lack of food, and the ice was in such a condition that neither boats nor sledges were of any use, and the water was too deep for them to wade. So here- they were hemmed in. DeLong sent on the two strongest men of his party to obtain help, and they thus escaped the fate of those who remained. Relief expeditions were sent, out to the rescue of the lost explorers ; but it was not until the following spring that their dead bodies were found by Engineer Melville, of the United States Navy. Saved ! DeLong's diary and pencil were found by .his side, and in it were entries of the death of all his com pany but two besides himself. The last date was October 30, 1881, which was doubtless the last day of his life, and that of his remaining comrades. Thus mournfully ended an expedition upon which great hopes were set. The latest and by no means the least thrilling Arctic venture was the expedition sent out by the United States, in 188 1, under Lieutenant Greely. As the experience of so many had shown that vessels were very likely to be crushed in the ice during the winter, this party was taken up through Baffin Bay, Davis Strait, and Smith's Sound, and as far north as Lady Franklin's Bay ; and here they were left, with material for a house and abundance of clothing, food, fuel, and other things to make them comfortable, while the ship which had taken them there returned home. Another ship was to. yisit them the following year, with more provisions and clothing, though it was cal culated that they had left them an abundance for four years. The relief vessel sent out the next summer was, however, unable to get farther north than Smith's Sound, on account of the ice, which is in some seasons much more abundant than in others. It left caches of supplies, however, on Littleton Island, near Cape Sabine. In the sum mer of 1883 another expedition was sent out to carry food to the explorers, but one of the ships, the Proteus, was crushed in the ice at the entrance of Smith's Sound, and went down. The Crew took refuge on board the other ship, which was obliged to return without accomplishing the object of the voyage. The Greely expedition was not sent out by the United States government with an ambition to add to its dominions, but solely in the interests of sci ence, " to widen the domain of knowledge, and help us to better know the laws which affect the conditions of life and growth on this planet ; and to throw light upon the great field of Arctic re search." Fort Conger, as their camp was named, was to serve as a base of supplies, from which sledging parties were to make expeditions farther north. This was done with great success, both from a geographical and scientific point of view. Lieutenant Lockwood, in command of one of the exploring parties, on May 13, 1882, reached a point nearer the Pole than any one else has ever yet done. It was, however, only four miles farther north than that gained by the British expedition under Captain Nares, in 1876. In case relief vessels did not reach them before that time, Lieutenant Greel.y's- instructions were to quit Fort Conger at the end of the second summer, and make his way southward. Accord ingly, the party left the station on August 9, 1883. All were then well. They had a steam launch, two whaleboats, and a dingy, all loaded with pro visions. Their dogs and the- salt meats they were obliged to leave behind. The provisions, with the many interesting specimens which they had collected, were placed in their house, which was securely closed. The voyage southward was a perilous one. They were obliged to .abandon two of their boats. , On the 29th of September they reached Cape Sabine, and after much difficulty, succeeded in landing. They found here some caches, of food, but considerable of it was spoiled. Some of it had been left there by Captain Nares, of the Brit ish expedition, 1875. They learned from docu ments left for them the reason the relief ships had not reached them, and also that the main supply of food was to be found on Littleton Island; but this they were unable to reach on account of the condition of the ice in the channel ; and owing to violent gales and strong currents, the ice did not close all winter. - They made out to subsist the winter through on the food they had and the game which they were able to take from time to time. There was one Eskimo in the party, who was of great assistance in hunting. They were obliged to burn their boats for fuel, so could not get the supplies on the island, when the spring made it possible ; and there they starved to death almost in sight of food. For when the relief expedition reached them, June 22, 1884, only seven of the crew of twenty-five were alive, and one of those died on the homeward voyage. In forty-eight hours more, probably not one would have been left to tell the tale of their sufferings, as the sur vivors were only just alive. At the time they were rescued, their food consisted of boiled seal-skin boots cut up fine, and mixed with reindeer moss ; and rock lichens and small shrimps boiled into a soup. The spring had then come, bringing plenty of game, but they had no boats, and, besides, were too sick and weak to hunt. When found, they were, too' fee ble to crawl from under the fallen poles of their tent. The brave commander, Lieutenant Greely, was among the survivors; and when the relief party came in sight, he was reading to his poor com rades, in a feeble voice, the prayers for the dying. How lightly do men talk of glory ; how little do they know what it means ! 90 Mmim -iS^llSffi3i fl^aS^li^WESK.3 USUI l|ifefl 9P B* mm a-ftfe P M 1 /^Bff Yolcanoeg and Earthquakec. BOUT 400 volcanic mountains' are known to exist in various parts of the earth, of which number more BRP® than half have shown signs of activity in modern % times. There are only seven in Europe, and three of these are extinct ; but those that remain, though few in number, are more destructive in their eruptions than those in any other part of the world. Vesuvius, ten miles distant from Naples, is thirty miles in circumference at the base and about 4,000 feet in hight. Its first recorded eruption took place over, 1,800 years ago, (a. d. 79) when the cities of Herculaneum and Pompeii were buried in a black shroud of lava and ashes. The great eruption of T779 was witnessed by Sir William Hamilton, who describes the volumes of "white sulphurous smoke, resembling bales of cotton, exceeding the hight and size of the mountain at least four times, and in the midst stones and ashes were thrown up not less than 2,000 feet." A stupen dous fountain' of fire shot up three times the hight of the mountain, or more than two miles, and by its light the smallest objects could be clearly distinguished at the distance of six miles. Among the 91 ,/ Bay of Naples— Vesuvius in the Distance. huge fragments of lava thrown out was a block 108 feet in circumference and 17 feet high, besides many thousands of smaller pieces. During the early part of the present century the top of Vesu vius had become a rough, rocky plain, covered with lava and stones. By the eruption of 1822 all this was thrown out, and replaced by a vast chasm three miles in circumference and probably 2,000 feet deep. The first glimpse of its drooping smoke-flag as you enter the Bay of Naples from the sea, affords an altogether new sensation. The volcano rises, completely isolated, from a flat, far-reaching plain ringed round by precipitous mountains in the dis tance. It has, clearly risen from the sea, and all the land around it is nothing more than the ac cumulated ashes of its eruptions. Narrow streams of congealed lava course down the sides of the cone, and here and there extend, like rivers of black pitch, far out among the vineyards of the plain. White steam and dusky smoke perpetually pour out in great forcibly-ejected rolls from the small flat platform on the summit. The daily variations of the smoke-jet, now rolling down the side of the cone, now rising far aloft like a pillar, and again stretching like a long flat cloud to the horizon, according to the wind and weather, lend an endless variety to the Neapolitan landscape ; while at night a dim sullen glow, varied at short intervals by bright gleams of fire or by discharges of glowing fragments, keeps alive the expectation of an eruption. In ascending the mountain, you pass by degrees from fertile soil, produced by many centuries of decay, to arid black and gray expanses of slags and, ashes, resembling the barren mounds and blasted Soil that surround great iron furnaces. The fresh lava streams, covered with a solidified and brittle crust, appear like heaps of great black cinders, that slip and shift beneath the feet, clink ing together with a sharp metallic ring. As you approach the summit, you hear a sound like the panting of a gigantic monster ; as you step upon the final platform, you see before you what resem bles an immense wash-tub filled to the brim with black smooth coils of solidified pitch. From its centre, about fifty yards from where you stand, there rises an object like a dust-heap, with a broken, irregular summit, and perhaps a broken valley at one side, giving access to the edge of a great well some thirty feet in diameter, with per pendicular sides sliced down through the tentre of the dust-heap. Up this pit rush steam and dust, 92 and at brief intervals a sudden puff of denser vapor, accompanied by small stones, shoots perpen dicularly high into the air, with a sound like the report of a gun, Cautiously you approach the edge, and venture to look over into the crater. Between the rushing jets of steam, here of snowy whiteness, there stained brown or yellow by min gled ashes, and sometimes black like coaly smoke, you observe that the perpendicular walls are glow ing with a dull red heat, and that some twenty feet below the edge there rise faint tongues of sal mon-colored flame. Such was the appearance of the crater, says a recent traveler, when I first saw it during a tran quil phase. A few days before a great eruption, the summit still preserved the same aspect when I visited it at night ; but it was then impossible to attain the edge of the great well; for it seemed filled with glowing lava vividly reflected from the clouds of vapor ; and at intervals showers of mol ten fragments were shot from its surface, falling over some yards of the only practicable approach. The great eruption was preceded by premonitory symptoms. I heard from Prof. Palmieri's assistant how the increasing frequency and intensity of dis turbances of the special instruments of the observ atory had warned him before daybreak that the crisis had arrived ; how he had walked from the observatory, which stands on a safe, projecting ridge, towards the great cone which forms the active portion of the mountain ; how, as he ap proached its base, he found the ground quaking with the violence of the concussions in the furnace, and cracks opening around him with dangerous frequency and suddenness. A little later several streams of lava broke out where this cracking pro cess had been in, progress, and gave vent, at the foot of the cone, to the whole molten mass which had slowly welled up to the summit. These streams were now gliding down the valleys on either side of the projecting promontory that bears the observatory. The lava welled put of the mountain-side, accompanied by outbursts of gases and vapors that made it dangerous to approach the vent. A few yards from where it first attained the surface, the stream was like liquid treacle, curling over obstacles and around corners, pouring swiftly over ledges in cataracts of fire, and bearing dark blocks of solid lava on its glowing breast. About a mile farther down, the stream was already dark, presenting only scattered red points at intervals, like a heap of cinders freshly raked from a fur- nace. But the pressure of the still molten stream beneath the solidified crust pushed on the cooled .fragments of the surface, so that the mass advanced at its extremity in the form of a broad embank ment of black heaps, slowly but resistlessly pro gressing, with a perpetual clinking sound, caused by the rolling of the higher fragments down the advancing talus, as the pressure of the hidden fluid urged them forward from behind. So little for midable was the aspect of the lava front* that when it had already destroyed the wall on one side of the carriage road, I found the whole stream of sightseers who had come from Naples passing along the narrow channel left between the further wall and the advancing lava, which a few hours later had completely cut the road. About ten , o'clock on a still winter's night of 1857 I was sitting writing on a third floor of one of the great houses that extend along the Chiaja of Naples towards the hill of Posilippo, where the vast masonry foundations of ancient Roman villas project far out" under the clear blue waters of the Mediterranean. Suddenly, with no preliminary warning, I experienced a peculiar sensation of something new and terrible that was passing around me, It was difficult at first to realize what it was. It was not like the vibration of heavy pass ing carts, not like the shaking of a storm, but a rapidly increasing, irresistible movement, as if the earth had been seized and shaken in sport by some Cyclopean hand. All the bells of the house rang /violently. The chandelier above my head swung to and fro like a pendulum. The floors creaked and strained, as though about to start from the walls. The doors seemed ready to fall from their hinges. Although the duration of the shock ap peared considerable to the strained and startled senses, it in reality hardly exceeded eight seconds ; but after a brief interval a second shock succeeded, lasting twice as long, and of such violence that it was estimated by observers that, had it continued only about four seconds longer, the whole of Na- 'pies would have been in ruins. As it reached its climax, I saw the walls bulging out, as if about to fall" inwards upon me, and, unable to bear longer the .protracted suspense of waiting patiently for a catastrophe that seemed inevitable, I made for the arched stone staircase of the house, and, at first with difficulty maintaining my footing on the swaying steps, I reached the street after the vibra tions had died away. The wide Chiaja, extend ing a mile along the shore, and which two minutes earlier had been silent and deserted, was now thronged with a dense crowd, all dressed in white night-clothes, and all hurrying, terror-stricken, to wards the famous church of Posilippo, the favorite shrine of the superstitious Neapolitans. It seemed like a sudden rising of the sheeted dead, throng ing in a moment the streets of the sleeping city. But soon the silence of the terrified crowd was broken by the loud cries of women calling to the patrons of their idolatrous devotion, for mercy and Eruption of Vesuvius. protection. In the southern districts of the Neapolitan kingdom some 15,000 perished in this earthquake, amid the ruins of many villages and towns. The legacy of terror left by earthquakes among superstitious populations, and the difficulty of exact observation when in the utterly helpless expectation of sudden death or mutilation and entombment, has certainly rendered the records of earthquakes, before the invention of self-record ing instruments, peculiarly liable to exaggeration, and encouraged the growth of sensational fables. 93 ~^Wli^mm m fmmmmmKm lllSik^if^ m te* HP 1 II I v "¦I I ) IIHRnaW w Mi MI fc;W »!**« -^^SilfiS^^"'- ¦ '^mm T^mong the Icebergs. |-N a voyage from New York to Archangel, Russia, we discovered a number of islands of ice. This was an unmistakable sign that we were nearing the celebrated banks of New Found- land. A strong westerly gale was wafting us rapidly in our onwar,d course, and as the night set in, we were past this cluster. The fog then be came so dense that it was impossible to see ten .feet 'before 'Us. , Midnight came, and we- were relieved from our post by the captain's watch to retire for four hours. In about an hour from this we were aroused by the dreadful cry from the helmsman, "An island of ice!" The next mo ment came the crash ! When I came to my senses from the blow I received from being tossed from one side of the forecastle to the other, I found myself clinched by Palmer. The rest of the watch had made their escape on deck, and shut down the scuttle. After several unsuccessful attempts to find the ladder to reach the scuttle, we gave up in despair. We placed our arms around each other's neck, and gave up to die. Amid the creaking and rending of the ship with her grappled foe, we could once in a while hear the screams and cries of some of our wretched companions on the deck above us, begging God for mercy. In this agonizing moment the scuttle was thrown open, with the" cry, " Is there any one be low ? " In a moment we were both on deck. I swiftly surveyed our position, — the ship's bow ' partly under a shelf of ice, everything gone but her stern, all her square sails filled with the wind, and a heavy sea rushing her on toward her un yielding antagonist. Without some immediate change, it was evident that our destiny and hers would soon be sealed. With some difficulty I made my way to the quarter-deck, where the captain and second mate were on their knees, begging God for mercy. The chief mate, with as many as could rally around him, were making fruitless efforts to hoist the long boat, which could not have been kept from dashing against the ice for two minutes. Amid the crash of matter and the cry of men, my atten tion was arrested by the captain's crying out, "What are you going to do with me, Palmer?" " I am going to heave you overboard ! " " For God's sake let me alone," he said ; we shall all be in eternity in less than five minutes ! " "I do n't 95 care for that ; you have been the cause of all this ! It will be some satisfaction to me to see you go first !" I laid fast hold of him, and entreated him to let go of the captain, and go with me to try the pump. He readily yielded to my request, and to our utter astonishment the pump sucked ! This unexpected good news arrested the attention of the chief mate, who immediately turned from his fruitless labor, and after a moment's survey of the ship's perilous position, cried out with a sten torian shout, " Let go the top-gallant and the top sail halyards! let go the tacks and sheets ! haul up the courses ! clew down and clew up the top sails ! " Perhaps orders were never obeyed more promptly. The wind thrown out of the sails re lieved the ship immediately, and she broke away from her disastrous position, and settled down upon an even keel, broadside to the ice. We now saw that our strongly-built and gal lant ship was a perfect wreck forward of her fore mast, and that mast, to all appearances, about to go, too ; but what we most feared was, the ship's yards and mast coming, in contact with the ice, in which case the heavy sea on her other side would rush over her deck, and sink us in a few moments. While anxiously waiting for this, we saw that the sea which passed by our stern bpunded against the western side of the ice, and rushed back impetu ously against the ship, thus preventing her from coming in contaot with the ice, and also moved her onward toward the southern extremity of the island, which was so high that we failed to see the top of it from the masthead. In this state of suspense we were unable to de vise any way for our escape, other than that which God in his providence was manifesting to us as above described. Praise his holy name ! "His ways are past finding out." About four o'clock in the morning, while all hands were actively engaged in clearing away the wreck, a shout was raised, "Yonder is the eastern horizon, and it's daylight!" This was indication enough that we were just passing from the western side, beyond the southern extremity of the ice, where the ship's course could be changed by human skill. "Hard up your helm," cried the captain, "and keep the ship before the wind ! Secure the fore mast ! clear away the wreck ! " Suffice it to say that fourteen days brought us safely into the river Shannon, in Ireland, where we refitted for our Rus sian voyage. Falls of the Zambesi, Africa. Zambezi Fa%, A^tea.. *-T seems strange that Africa — old Africa — the home of the human race almost in its infancy ; the land of philosophy, and science, and wealth ; the land of mighty kings and .mighty works ; — it seems truly strange that such a country remains almost unknown. Africa, so closely blended with the history of the world, is almost without a history. For what is that portion known to history, compared to the whole ? View it as we will, Africa is a wonder. Hav ing -a large population, she has yet for ages re mained unknown to the civilized world. Dr. Liv ingstone did more than any other man to open , this continent, and present it to our view ; and following him, young Stanley has done much to acquaint us with this wonder-land. It is now known that her rivers are great, her water -falls magnificent, her valleys and plains vast and pro ductive, and her resources immense. But here we are forcibly reminded of Bishop Heber's hymn : — " Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile. ' ' Her inhabitants are mostly savages, and traveling there is both difficult and dangerous. Dr. Livingstone, sailing down the Zambesi River, came to a very strange fall. He gave it the name of Victoria, and the natives call it SKongwe, but we give it the name of the river in which it is found, as that gives it a location. The description of it we must leave to Dr. Livingstone himself, for it is so unlike any other fall in the world, that it is both difficult to describe 'it, and to understand the description when given. The picture will, however, aid the reader to get an idea of the wonderful scenery. Sailing down the river with his guide, in a canoe, he saw vast columns rising up before him at a distance of five or six miles, which resembled smoke, looking as if large tracts of grass were being burned. Here we let him tell the story : — '" Five columns now arose and, bending in the direction of the wind, they seemed placed against a low ridge covered with, trees ; the tops of the columns at this distance appeared to mingle with the clouds. They were white below and higher up became dark, so as to simulate smoke very closely. The whole scene was extremely beau tiful ; the banks and islands dotted over the river 7 97 are adorned with sylvan vegetation of great vari ety of color and form. " Passing down the center of the stream in the eddies and still places caused by many jutting rocks, brought me to an island situated in the middle of the river, and on the edge of the lip over which the water .rolls. In coming hither there was danger of being swept down by the streams which rushed along on each side of the island ; but the river was now low, and we sailed where it is totally impossible to go when the water is high. But though we reached the is land, and were within a few yards of the spot, a view from which would solve the whole problem, I believe that no one could perceive where the vast body of water went ; it seemed to lose itself in the earth, the opposite lip of the fissure into which it disappeared being only eighty feet dis tant. At least I did not comprehend it until, creeping with awe to the verge, I peered down into a large rent which had been made from bank to bank of the broad Zambesi, and saw that a stream of a thousand yards broad leaped down a hundred feet, and then became suddenly com pressed into a space of fifteen or twenty yards. The entire falls are simply a crack made in a basaltic rock from the right to the left bank of the Zambesi, and then prolonged from the left bank away through thirty or forty miles of hills. " In looking down into the fissure on the right of the island, one sees nothing but a dense white cloud, which at the time we visited the spot, had two bright, rainbows on it., From this cloud rushed up a great jet of vapor exactly like steam, and it mounted 200 or 300 feet high ; there con densing, it changed its hue to that of dark smoke, and, came back in a constant shower, which soon wetted us to the skin. " On the left side of the island we have a good view of the mass of water which causes one of the columns of vapor to ascend, as it leaps quite clear of the rock, and forms a thick unbroken fleece all the way to the bottom. Its whiteness gave the idea of snow, a sight I had not seen for many a day. As it broke into (if I may use the term) pieces of water, all rushing on in the same direction, each gave off several, rays of foam ex actly as bits of steel, when burned in oxygen, gas, give off rays of sparks. The snow-white sheet seemed like myriads of small comets rushing on in one direction, each of which left behind its nu cleus, rays of foam. I never saw the appearance referred to noticed elsewhere." ENHrtAVED rOH THI {and DF THE ]YjmNIGHT ^un. (HROUGH nature we may catch gleamings of the Creator's glory. Everywhere we see the fair creations of his hand ; and although the blight of the curse has rested on wood and stream, that rear their proud heads almost to heaven's gate, — all tell of a power that is infinite and a love that never fails. Wherever we go, there are fresh beauties to The Midnight Sun from North Cape. on hill and vale, for over six thousand years, the admire. But landscapes vary. God did not put heart that listens to nature's undertone is thrilled all the beauty in one place, and leave the rest with awe and reverence. From the tiny insects of the earth barren and unattractive. The vast, that flutter an hour and die, to the lofty peaks grassy plains, the fragrant valleys and woods, the 99 hoary-headed giants, allure us where they are, and a whisper of the Infinite steals over all. The usual route of the tourist is mapped out through England, France, Italy, Germany, and perhaps Switzerland, and of course these are all of great interest to the traveler ; but in the less frequented regions are scenes of beauty and grand eur that rival any in the usual routes. It has been ' said that Norway is a stupendous museum, where the Creator has crowded together some of the wildest and most charming effects of his power. The two countries, or States (for they are ruled by the same king), are very much alike in topo graphical outline. Each is divided into districts, the southern part being low and level, and gradu ally rising as you approach the mountains of the North. Some of the choicest bits of scenery to be found on the globe are displayed in the wild, rocky region of Norway's rugged steeps. The Scandinavian peninsula is intersected by a mountain chain running north and south, or nearly so, with spurs extending east and west, and sometimes rising to a height of 9,000 feet above the sea. The map shows a striking difference between the two main slopes of this intersecting ridge. The eastern side, sweeping down to the gulf of Bothnia and the Baltic, is Sweden, " a land fur rowed and pitted with an unparalleled profusion of rivers and lakes." The western slope, with the northern and southern terminals of the peninsula, is Norway. Sweden abounds in plateaus, lakes, and slow-flowing rivers ; but Norway, from the very nature of the country, is broken and rugged,. its lakes small, and its rivers short and rapid. There are, in fact, two Norways, — one above, a series of detached, irregular masses, bleak, snowy, wind-swept, and heather-grown, inhabited by herdsmen and hunters ; and one below, a ramifica tion of narrow veins of land and water, with fields and forests, highways and villages. The most imposing features of Norwegian scenery are its deep valleys, and its winding, laby rinthine fjords, — valleys of the sea, — in which the characteristics of the valleys of the land are repeated. There is copious rain-fall on the highlands, and during the summer the fierce rays of the sun melt the frozen mass, and send its waters headlong over the rocks to the valleys below. Jolster Cas cade is but one of the many beautiful falls thus formed. The floods from the melting snow which naturally falls more abundantly on the western than the eastern side of the mountains, have no choice but to rage down the steep inclines as roar ing torrents, or topple headlong over precipices, and thereby justify us in designating Norway the " Fatherland of Water-falls." Even the grand and beautiful cascades of the Alps are small and few compared with the rock-leaping torrents and down- thundering rivers of Western Scandinavia. The coast of Norway is deeply indented with fjords. There is nothing continuous,. no five miles' length of similar scenery anywhere. All is so bro ken up by these branches of sea-water and their corresponding upland valleys,' that almost every mile is quite different in character from the mile before. A giant big enough to pick up Scandina via might comb his hair with the southwestern part of the coast.. But few travelers have ever penetrated to the far North. Bayard Taylor and his friend Braisted were the first Americans to visit many parts of this cold, frozen region. But the effort was well repaid, and the world is richer for Taylor's hardi hood ; for he -not only saw the country himself, but he describes his travels so vividly that the reader can almost see the lands and people that he saw. His long journey through Sweden and Lapland was in the dead of winter, when the sun gets so tired that he can barely lift his golden head above the snowy pillows, and finally sleeps through a whole week, leaving the' world to dark ness and the Lapp. The cold then becomes intense, and it would seem that all travel must be suspended ; but these sturdy Norrlanders are as ready as ever to drive the persevering tourist over the crisp fields of snow. Even girls sometimes act as postilions, and endure the cold as well as the men, seeming to derive health and exhilaration from the exer cise. The air is sweet and pure, and full draughts can be easily inhaled, with a delicious sensation of refreshment. But the cold plays some grotesque pranks with the bold traveler who ventures into its domain. Mr.' Taylor says his beard, mous tache, cap, and fur collar became one undivided lump of ice. His eyelashes and eyebrows were. snow-white, and heavy with frost, so that every thing was seen as through a visor barred with ivory. His spirits seemed to rise with the fall of the mercury, and in his journal he exclaims, " This was arctic travel at last ! It was glorious ! The smooth, firm road, crisp and pure as alabaster, over which our sleigh-runners talked with the 100 rippling, musical murmur of summer brooks ; the sparkling, breathless firmament ; the gorgeous, rosy flush of morning, slowly deepening until the orange disk of the sun cut the horizon ; the golden blaze of the tops of the bronze firs ; the glittering of the glassy birches ; the long, dreary sweep of the landscape ; the icy nectar of the perfect air ; the tingling of the roused blood in every vein, all alert to guard the outposts of life against the beseeching cold, — it was superb !" The spectacle that met his eyes as the sun arose, a little after ten, was ex ceedingly fine. The rays of the low sun fell slanting over the snowy land, and touched m mi ¦ € a^sSSk the trees covered with sparkling crystals till they bjazed in gold and orange-brown. " The deli cate purple sprays of the birch, coated with ice, glittered like wands of topaz and amethyst ; and the slopes of virgin snow, stretch ing toward the sun, shone with the fairest saffron." One would naturally expect to find in the land scapes of the far North the sublimity of death and desolation, but he is delighted to see the rarest, the tenderest, the most enchanting beauty. The trees are covered with frost and snow till they resemble " Gothic bronze covered with frozen spray;" and from every rise, thousands of such mimic fountains can be seen, shooting low or high 101 from their pavements of ivory and alabaster. An enchanted wilderness it seems, white, silent, gleam ing, and filled with inexhaustible forms of beauty. Perspective is destroyed by the snow, and the remotest fairy nooks, too lovely and fragile to seem cold, are brought into the foreground. Such is winter in the North of Scandinavia, and in harmony with the country they live in are the sons of this northern clime. Clear-eyed and rosy, strong yet tender, simple, frank," and un sophisticated, they inspire one with honest pride in the human race. " It is exhilarating to see such people — whose digestion is sound, whose nerves are as tough as whipcords, whose blood runs in a strong, full stream, whose impulses are perfectly natural, who are good without knowing it, and who are happy without trying to be so." Taylor's first experience in driving reindeer over the snowy wastes of Lapland is so vivid and amusing that we cannot pass it. So here it is : — " Mr. Wolley sent for his reindeer in the course of the morning, in order to give us a lesson in driv ing. After lunch, accordingly, we prepared our selves for the new sensation. I put on a poesk of reindeer skin, and my fur-lined Russian boots. Ludwig took a pulk also, to assist us in case of need. These pulks are shaped very much like a canoe ; they are about five feet long, one foot deep, and eighteen inches wide, with a sharp bow and a square stern. You sit upright against the stern-board, with your legs stretched out in the bottom. The deer's harness consists only of a collar of reindeer skin around the neck, with a rope at the bottom, which passes under the body, between the legs, and is fastened to the bow of the pulk. He is driven by a single rein, attached to the base of the left horn, and passing over the back to the right hand of the driver, who thrusts his thumb into a loop at the end, and takes several turns around his wrist. The rein is held rather slack, in order that it may be thrown over to the right side when it slips to the left, which it is very apt to do. " I seated myself, took proper hold of the rein, and awaited the signal to start. My deer was a strong, swift animal, who had just shed his horns. Ludwig set off first ; my deer gave a startling leap, dashed around the corner of the house, and made down the hill. I tried to catch the breath which had been jerked out of me, and to keep my bal ance, as the pulk, swaying from side to side, bounced over the snow. It was too late ; a swift presentiment of the catastrophe flashed across my mind, but I was powerless to avert it. In another second I found myself rolling in the loose snow, with the pulk bottom upward beside me. The deer, which was attached to my arm, Was standing still, facing me, with an expression of stupid sur prise (but no sympathy) on- his face. I got up, shook myself, righted the pulk, and commenced again. Off we went, like the wind, down the hill, the snow flying in my face and blinding me. My pulk made tremendous leaps, bounding from side to side, until, the whirlwind suddenly subsiding, I found myself off the road, deep overhead in the snow, choked and blinded, and with small snow drifts in my pockets, sleeves, and bosom. My beard and eyebrows became instantly a white, solid mass, and my face began to tingle from its snow-bath ; but on looking back I saw as white a beard suddenly emerge from a drift, followed by the stout body of, Braisted, who was gathering himself up after his third shipwreck^ " We took a fresh start, I narrowly missing an other overturn as we ascended the slope below.the house ; but on reaching the level of the Muonio I found no difficulty in keeping my balance, and began to enjoy the exercise. My deer struek out, passed the others, and soon I was alone on the" track. In the gray Arctic twilight, gliding noise lessly and swiftly over the snow, with the low huts of Muonioniska dimly seen in the distance before me, I had my first true experience of Lapland traveling." The climax of the northern winter is reached in the day without a sun, when the pale flush of morning deepens into carmine and purple, till the whole heaven is lighted with the sun's coming splendor. Streaks of flame shoot upward, and move along to the westward. By twelve o'clock the sky is almost as brilliant as the sun, itself; but after a few breathless moments the glow begins to fade, the colors changing in reverse order as the sun goes down, and the splendors which heralded the morning a few moments before,, belong to evening now. The inland water-ways of Sweden are unique. By means of the large lakes, and the Gotha canal connecting them, the traveler can go from Stock holm to the North Sea by boat. The whole length of the journey is some three hundred and seventy' miles, but barely fifty miles is actually by canal, the remainder being by sea or along the lakes. 102 It is an interesting journey from first to last, the steamers are lifted till they reach the platform by this Gbtha canal. Leaving Stockholm, we pass through the beautiful Lake Malarn, wind along the coast thickly studded with islands, until we glide out upon the open Baltic. One hour's ride brings us to the point where we enter the canal. We now pass through lakes and canals in quick succession, through fields and forests, round rocky cliffs, past historical castles, churches, and villages. The scenes shift rap idly, and are always as beautiful as varied. "The numerous locks — sev enty-four in all — which have successfully surmounted the great differences of level along the route, are its principal features. In their construction no physi cal difficulties have been suffered to stand in the way. Some of the locks are carried through green meadows and open fields ; others are hemmed in close by mountains, which seem to deny all pas sage ; now a series of eleven are met, and must be slowly ascended, one by one, like a liquid stair case, up which, with infinite pains and patience, that at first towered above their masts. Next, by a daring detour, to avoid the angry torrent and thunderous cascade, a long passage is driven through the solid rock. The most remarkable feat of the last-named class is the gigantic opera tion by which the route avoids the falls of Troll- hatta. The canal has been cut in the side of a mountain of granite, and nine locks are necessary to overcome the difference of level between Lake Wenern above and the Gotha River below, which amounts altogether to some one hundred and twenty feet." The falls of Trollhatta, named from the trolls, or water-witches, contain the greatest volume of water of any falls iSSKiSS^lrtiifi&nlliX*. *n Europe, and in grandeur they are equal to the most famous. They are thus de scribed, by one writer : — " It is not a fall, but a torrent, or rather a mighty river, chafing in a broad, bright ridge of foam for more than three- fourths of a mile, with deafening noise, down the side of a mount ain ; now gushing in one body over a perpendicular ridge, then break ing for a short space through fragments of rock, till it reaches an other brink ; and so from fall to fall, till it sinks into the valley, where it is in one moment as smooth as if it had never been ruffled. These words excite not a spark of the overwhelming emotion the spectator feels as he hears the roar of the, torrent, and feels the solid rock shaking beneath him, — as he sees the waters, now rushing with fury from the brink of the ledge, and the next moment boiling tu- multuously in the vast whirlpool at its base, — ¦ 103 as he tracks those white and sportive masses of spray, filling the whole valley, and equally beauti ful, whether they rise, as when he first saw them, like vapory clouds in the twilight gloom, or sparkle, as when he next beheld them, like drops of gold in the sun." Strangely unemotional must be the spectator who can gaze at the Trollhatta without enthusiasm ! B it passing these, we proceed on our inland voyage, and at last arrive at Christiana, in Nor way. It is fresh spring-time, and our trip through Norway will be in the sweet summer, when the days are as long as the nights have been, and the sun makes up for his laziness by ceaseless vigi lance. Now his bright eye sees every movement of the sturdy Norrlander. One soon learns fashionable habits of life in these northern summers. Like the man whose windows Sidney Smith darkened, and who slept all day because he thought it was night, you keep awake all night because you for^ get that it is not day. Your per ception of time contracts in some mysterious way ; and the sun, setting at eleven, seems to be no later than when it set at seven. " You think you will enjoy the evening twilight an hour or two before going to bed, and lo ! the morning begins to dawn. It seems absurd to turn in and sleep by daylight ; but you sleep, nevertheless, until eight or nine o'clock, and get up but little refreshed with your repose. You miss the grateful covering of dark ness, the sweet, welcome gloom, which shuts your senses, one after one, like the closing petals of a flower, in the restoring trance of the night. The light comes through your eyelids as you sleep, and a certain nervous life of the body that should sleep too, keeps awake and active." At first this per petual sunshine may strike you as being wonder fully convenient ; for you lose nothing of the scen ery, and can read and write as usual. " You never need be in a hurry, because there is time enough for everything. It is not necessary to do your day's work in the daytime, for no night cometh. You are never belated, and somewhat of the stress of life is lifted from your shoulders ; but after a time you would be glad of an excuse to stop see ing, and observing, and thinking, and even enjoy ing. There is no compulsive rest, such as darkness brings, no sweet isolation, which is the best re- MSWmMmmmmum I iiiilB The Upper Falls of Trollhatta. freshment of sleep. You lie down in the broad day, and the summons, Arise ! attends on every opening of your eyes." There are some advantages of this northern summer which Mr. Taylor says have presented themselves to him in rather a grotesque light. " Think what an aid and shelter is removed from crime, how many vices, which can flourish only in the deceptive atmosphere of night, must be checked by the sober reality of daylight ! No assassin can dog the steps of his victim; no burglar can work in sunshine ; no guilty lover can hold stolen interviews by moonlight, — all concealment is removed ; for the sun, like; the 104 itsIIP mMmm >JP mmimmm w z>2o HK w 3> soo Kw 0 SOr « H 11 ¦ l1 ills fftJ I t:1'! '1 I 1,11111, '¦' If \ Im ilnlills eye of God, sees everything, and the secret vices of the earth' must be bold indeed, if they can bear his gaze. Morally, as well as physically, there is safety in light, and danger in darkness ; and yet, give me the darkness and the danger ! Let the patrolling sun go off his beat for a while, and show a little confidence in my ability to be have myself properly, rather than worry me with his sleepless vigilance." The facilities for travel in Scandinavia are very good. Every highway and byway where wheels can run is divided into stages of eight or nine miles in- length, and at the stations the govern ment has provided for change of horses, and ac commodations for tourists, at a fixed price. A driver, who also acts as guide, always accom panies the team. The fjaelds of Norway are elevated table-lands, — wild, rolling upper regiqns of considerable area, surrounded more or less completely by mountain peaks, and their circumference broken by deep- cut gorges and valley-troughs. Here the snow falls during the long winter to a great depth, and the short summer is not long and hot enough to melt it from the more northern fjaelds. So season after season it freezes and thaws, until, partly by this process and partly by its own weight, it be comes a mass of solid ice — a huge glacier, or ice- river. These ice-rivers are constantly moving down ward to the sea ; and though the movement is so slow that it is scarcely perceptible, there is an irresistible power in it. Mountains are riven by the lateral pressure of the glacier, and great rocks are torn from their resting-place, and borne along on its icy bosom. Even the hardest granite op poses no successful resistance to its onward march. There are many of these fjaelds in Norway, Folgefond, Dovre, and File being perhaps the most noted. On the Dovre Fjasld is the splen did Lake Mjosen, the largest in Norway, with the lofty island of Helge on its bosom. The old town of Hamar, on its eastern shore, is of historic inter est, being a place of great importance in early times. It was destroyed by the Swedes in 1567, and now its greatness sleeps in grass-grown streets and crumbling walls. Not far away are the ruins of its ancient cathedral. But the chief interest of Norwegian scenery lies along its zigzag, rock-bound coast. Fjords too numerous to mention pierce the land at every step. Here the deep-cut gorges find their open ing, and rushing rivers from the upland fjaelds pour their foaming waters into the placid sea. Around Hardanger Fjord is some of the wildest and most romantic scenery of the world. Voringfos is one of the most famous water falls in this wonderful land- It is approached by a tortuous pathway up the chasm, which in some places is rendered almost impassable by the debris of fallen rocks that have been hurled down from the peaks above. The torrent is twice spanned by logs, and the ascent grows more difficult as we approach 'the falls, until it is but a zigzag ladder. Yet the horses climb it easily. It seems incredible that horses can make the ascent at an angle of fifty degrees, and that over loose stones, but they do, and never make a false step." Just after crossing the first bridge, one can get a glimpse of the falls through a clean split in the wall of rock, whose dark blue sides, falling sheer three thousand feet, vanish at the bottom in per petual gloom and spray. At last we reach the upper level, the floor of the Hardanger Fjaeld, and approach the cloud of whirling spray that rises above the falls. The great chasm yawns before us ; another step, and we stand on the brink. Gazing down into the black depth, whose rocky sides are wet with eternal spray, we see a splendid rainbow, which forms almost a circle before it melts into the deep gloom below. On one side a little stream falls in one long thread of silver from the summit, " like a plumb-line dropped to measure the two thousand feet." The river itself comes down from the level fjaeld in a torn, twisted, boiling mass, then springs over the brink\ and falls in a single sheet to the bottom, a depth of between eight and nine hundred feet. In height, volume of water, and sublime sur roundings, this fall has no equal. Yet the spec tator, looking down upon it from above, can only guess its majesty and beauty. Previous to 1870, the only approach to the falls was by the path above described ; but in that year a narrow path way was built to its very foot, and the view from this position is much more imposing than from ' above. The Rjukan is another of the beautiful water falls in Norway. It is a miracle of sprayey splen dor, an apparition of unearthly loveliness set in a frame-work of darkness and terror befitting the jaws of hell. " The river first comes into sight a mass of boiling foam, shooting around the corner 106 of a line of black cliffs which are rent for ' its passage, curves to the right as it descends, and then drops in a sin gle fall of five hun dred feet into a hol- ' low caldron of bare black rock. The water is already foam as it leaps from the summit ; and the successive waves, as they; are whirled in the air, and feel the gusts which forever re volve around the abyss, drop into beaded fringes in falling, and go flut tering down like scarfs of the rich est lace. It is not water, but the spirit of water. The bot tom is' lost in a shifting, snowy film, with starry rays of foam radiating from its heart, below which, as the clouds shift, break momentary gleams of perfect emerald light. What fairy bowers of some Northern Undine are suggested in those sudden flashes of silver green ! In that dim profound, which human eye can but partially explore, in which human foot shall never set, what secret wonders may still lie hidden ! And around this vision of perfect loveliness, rise the awful walls, wet with spray which never dries, and crossed by ledges of dazzling turf, from the gulf far below our feet, until, still further above our heads, they lift their irregular cornices against the sky." It was in this fjord that Du Chaillu met a bridal party coming home from the little chapel under the hills, as shown in the cut on the next page. The bride has the seat of honor, with her husband beside her., Her silver crown, rich with filagree wprk, makes her look like a queen. Their boat is followed by others, filled with guests who are going to the marriage feast. Back in the old home the most renowned cooks from the surrounding farm-houses have been baking and broiling and stewing all day, and a sumptuous board is spread in the long dining-room. Here- the guests assemble immediately on their return, and amid plenty and cheer, partake of the soups, fish, puddings, and cakes. Then they retire to another room, and dance until they are exhausted. ' The 107 Voringfos. festivities are kept up one, two, and even three weeks, and then the guests return to their own homes. During this time, presents are made to the happy couple, usually of money, but some times of cattle and horses. Sogne Fjord and Fjaeld, still farther north, are full of characteristic beauty. King Oscar, stand ing upon the icy floor of this glacial table-land, with granite peaks on every side; and the bright noon-day sun glinting the snow-covered plains and heights, exclaimed, "O, what a sight! Now it flashes as the rarest diamond ; now it is as clearly and littleness, and our inability to cope with the silent forces which surround us on every hand. But a snow-cloud, and we are buried ; but a fog, and the slightly marked path is lost forever. We will notice one more fjord, with its sur rounding landscape. The Romsdal is a wide deep chasm, running from Dovre Fjaeld down to the sea, and splitting from tip to base some of the highest mountains in Norway. It has been designated the " valley of a thousand water-falls." Near the mouth of the fjord stands the Romsdalshorn, towering, like an A Wedding Party. transparent as the purest crystal ; now it changes from green to blue, like the most wonderful beryl or sapphire, and all the varying hues are the re flecting giories, the changing shadows, of the fast- floating clouds. All heaven is glowing on the glacier's breast." In the bracing atmosphere of this high alti tude, one feels as if imbued with new life and vigor. Thought and emotion rise with the as cending peaks, and swell with the expanding scene. Here, far away from the busy world be low, we feel almost separated from earthly life, and suddenly placed face to face with the Al mighty Creator. We realize our own weakness 108 enormous steeple, to the height of 5,090 feet. It is so steep that a stone might be thrown from its summit upon a passing cariole on the road at its base. Across the river from Romsdalshorn are the Troldtinderne, or witch crags, a magnificent group of dark, jagged pinnacles, the shattered skeleton of a riven mountain, with miniature glaciers and avalanche tracks at their feet. Farther on, a mighty wall of rock rises to the height of some four thousand feet, All along this rock-wall are great scars, where huge masses of stone have scaled off and thundered down into the river bed. There they lie, cumbering the path of visibl stand a the torrent, and forcing its waters to seethe and foam through the alleys between them. The wagon-road winds around these great rocks, and in some places the road-bed is made by blasting through them. " Here begins the wonderful and con tinuous panorama of water-falls, varying from the long roaring rapids and heavy thundering plunges of the Rauma, which the bottom of the valley, to little silver threads 21 the sky, and vanishing in the sunbeams ere they e ground." vanishing threads are very curious. When the mid- s shining, its rays strike most effectively on the rock- h faces the south. The thread-falls, streaking down >f its heated surface, are actually dissipated into in- por before they can reach the ground. One might irectly under them without getting wet. 109 §§pp Fishing for Salmon. To enumerate the water-falls of the Romsdal , is out of the question. They are down below, up above, on both sides, all along, and every where. Scores of them are visible at once, and < others continually coming into view. The most frequent and characteristic .are those that come from some unseen snow fjaeld, and plunge over the crest on the north side of the valley. It seems, as you gaze up to the ragged edge of rock, that the mountain is rasping the sky, and the torrent pouring out of the blue ether. It bends with glossy smoothness over this topmost ledge, then it is lost. " Presently it reappears, shattered to snowy fragments ; then striking the rock once more, spreads out and tears down the long, rugged slope in white fleeces of shattered water. At every resisting ledge, clouds of spray and mist are dashed forth, the sunlight tinting them here and there with strips of the glorious iris. Then a greater ledge bars its path, and it bounds upward and forward into the free air, bat tered and shattered into mere snowy water-dust, so fine that its resistance to the air nearly balances its gravitation, and it descends with slow, unvary ing speed some few hundred feet more ; then it showers upon another projecting slope" of the rock, spreads into a multitude of little rills, then gathers up its fragments, and rushes under the road to join the Rauma, and share its resting-place in the all- absorbing sea." Such a fall is the Mongefossen, which pitches over the wall of the Mongejura where it is about four thousand feet high. We have been steadily advancing northward, and at last the Arctic Circle is behind us. The days have grown longer and longer, until there is but a shadow of darkness to lure us to sleep. Gradually the shadow fades, and we are in per- 110 Troldtinderne, in Romsdalen. petual daylight. The scenery has undergone a wonderful change since we passed the Arctic Circle. The islands are high and broken, and grouped to gether in fantastic confusion. Between the jagged pinnacles, and through the walls of naked rock, we can trace the same formation in the hills of the mainland ; while in the rear, resting white against the sky, stretches the snowy^ table-land which forms a common summit for all. One of these lofty islands, Torghatten, situated off the coast, and a little south of the Arctic Circle, near Alstenoen, is pierced through by a natural tunnel, sixty feet high at the mouth, and between five hundred and six hundred feet long. It main tains the same size throughout its entire length, and is so straight that those approaching in ves sels can see through it without interruption. In fine weather, vessels anchor here, and enable the tourist to land and examine the famous tunnel. The floor of the tunnel is quite uneven, being strewn with pieces of rock that have fallen from the roof; but the walls are so regular that it seems they must have been chiseled out by some artifi cial means. A little farther north we pass the famous mael strom, — that rapacious whirlpool in the sea, which our geographies told us swallowed up everything that came within its encircling arms. But, like other terrors of bur credulous youth, this has come to be little more than a fable. At certain seasons the winds and ocean currents meet here so as to form a fierce eddy, which it may. be dangerous for small boats to cross, but there is little if any dan ger to large craft well-manned. The Lofoten Islands consist of a maze of irreg ular mountain peaks and precipices, and the pas sage between them is very tortuous. The rocks are mostly bleak, and bare of vegetation, though now and then are dwarf trees and small patches of grass and moss. Most of the coast of Norway is of metamorphic rock, but these islands are of gran ite. They are of all imaginable and fantastic shapes, and in size vary from the low " turtle backs," as the sailors call them, to mountains with peaks that seem to pierce the- sky. " One is bewildered in the attempt to describe such scenery. There is no central figure, no pre vailing character, no sharp contrasts, which may serve as a guide whereby to reach the imagination of the reader. All is confused, disordered, chaotic. One begins to understand the old Norse myth of these stones being thrown by the devil in a vain attempt to prevent the Lord from finishing the world. Grand as they are, singly, you are so puz zled by their numbers and by the fantastic man ner in which they seem to dance around you, as the steamer threads the labyrinth, that you scarcely appreciate them as they deserve. Take almost any one of these hundreds, and place it in land, anywhere in Europe or America, and it would be visited, sketched, and sung to distrac tion." Now Lofoten Isles are passed, then Hammer- fest, and we enter the strait that separates Magero from the mainland. Once more we turn to Bayard Taylor, for a last glimpse of Norway and a first view of the midnight sun : — " It was now eleven o'clock, and Svaerholt glowed in fiery bronze luster as we rounded it, the eddies of returning birds gleaming golden in the nocturnal sun, like drifts of beech leaves in the October air. Far to the north the sun lay in a bed of saffron light over the clear horizon of the Arctic Ocean. A few bars of dazzling orange cloud floated above him ; and still higher in the sky, where the saffron melted through delicate rose-color into blue, hung' light wreaths of vapor, touched with pearly, opaline flushes of pink and golden grey. The sea was a web of pale slate- color, shot through and through with threads of orange and saffron, from the dance of a myriad shifting and twinkling ripples. The air was filled and permeated with the soft, mysterious glow, and even the very azure of the southern sky seemed to shine through a net of golden gauze." "Far to the northeast was Nordkyn, the most northern point of the mainland of Eurbpe, gleam ing rosily and faint in the full beams of the sun ; and just as our watches denoted midnight the North Cape appeared to the westward — a long line of purple bluff, presenting a vertical front of nine hundred feet in height to the Polar Sea. Midway between these two magnificent head lands, stood the Midnight Sun, shining on us with subdued fires, and with the gorgeous color ing of an hour for which we have no name, since it is neither sunset nor sunrise, but the blended loveliness of both, — but shining at the same mo ment, in the heat and splendor of noonday, on the Pacific Isles. This was the midnight sun as I had dreamed it — as I had hoped to see it. "Within fifteen minutes after midnight there was a perceptible increase of altitude, and in less than half an hour the whole tone of the sky had 112 changed, the yellow brightening into orange, and the saffron melting into the pale vermilion of dawn. Yet It was neither the colors nor the same character of light as we had had half aa hour before midnight. The difference was so .slight as scarcely to be described ; but it was the difference between evening and morning. The faintest transfusion of one prevailing tint into another had changed the whole expression of heaven " and earth, and so imperceptibly and miraculously that a new day was already present to our consciousness. Our view of the wild cliffs of Svserholt, less than two hours before, belonged to yesterday, though we had stood on deck, in full sunshine, during all the intervening time. Had the sensation of a night slipped through our brains in the momentary winking of the eyes ? Or was the old routine of consciousness so firmly stereo typed in our nature, that the view of a morning was sufficient proof to them of the pre-existence of a night? Let those explain the phenomenon who can ; but I found my physical senses utterly at war with those mental perceptions wherewith they should harmonize. The eye saw but one unending day ; the mind notched the twenty- four hours on its calendar, as before." North Cape. 113 I F j C ^OUTH ^EA JSLANDS. 'THE IJ3LEJ3 J3HALL WAIT FOR THY LAW.' £N our first study of geography have we not all read with peculiar interest the definition of an island, — "A tract of land surrounded by water"? The little picture of an isolated spot of terra firma, under an ocean of sky, in an ocean of water, was a romantic place that called forth our childish imagination, until it was invested with all that could make it a miniature paradise in the sea. We connected it with adventures, with magical wonders and delights. What was more to our childish wish than a little play-island in the stream, where we could enact the scenes of a ship wreck and a stranded sailor's life ? The cozy sug gestion of the island picture, with its isolation, its plenty, its peace, seemed to satisfy our simple ideas of the thing to be desired, more than did the representations of great cities and continental splendors. We took in the poetry of the island life and beauty, in blissful ignorance of its many realities, concerning which, at that time at least, it was " folly to be wise." Later on we connected island life with such stories as Enoch Arden, who waited on an isle, — "Rich, but the loneliest in a lonely sea ;' where were — "Soft fruitage, mighty nuts, and nourishing roots." " The mountain, wooded to the peak ; the lawns And winding glades high up, like ways to heaven ; The slender coco's drooping crown of .plumes ; The lightning flash of insect and of bird ; The luster of the long convulvuluses That coiled around the stately stems, and ran E'en to the limit of the land, — the glows And glories of the broad belt of the world. " Still later the islands became to us places of luxury, over which the ser pent had left his baleful trail, where heathenism and savagery reigned, and of which we perhaps knew little and cared less. It is little more than four hundred years since the great Pacific, the cradle of the South Sea Islands, was first discovered by Balboa. As he looked westward over its five thousand miles of water, stretching from pole to pole, and took possession of it in the name of the king of Spain, he little dreamed what gems of ocean it contained in its island clusters, or what mighty purposes of Providence began to unfold for the islanders and the world by this first notice of the westering ocean. Magellan was the first to cross it, and, appro priate to his peaceful and successful voyage, he named it the '.' Pacific." It was, however, through the interest awakened by the researches and dis coveries of Cook in the islands of the Pacific in 1768-75, that the world of to-day has come, not only to carry on traffic with the islanders, but to link them into the fellowship of its civilization and Christianity. Though some of the islanders are now able to compensate somewhat by their life and thought for the sacrifices that have been made in their behalf, owing to what Christianity has done for them, thtey were at first but terrible specimens of what the nations that forget God become, whose fpolish hearts are darkened, who change the " glory of the incorruptible God into an* image made like unto corruptible man, and to birds, and f o u r-footed beasts, and creep ing things." Nature about them spoke ever of the Creator, testifying to his eternal power and Godhead ; and yet man, his master-piece,darkened by in gratitude, recognized no sign of his love, realized no aid of his Spirit, conceived no thought of his character. But though the children of the islands had forgotten God, he had not forgotten them. Tennyson writes, — " Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing pur pose runs." And that purpose, from the fall of man in Eden to his restoration to uprightness and Paradise, is that the light of the gospel shall be diffused, until the whole world shall be lightened by its glory. " For this gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in all the world for a witness unto all nations ; and then shall the end come." Therefore the most interest ing thought from which to study the Pacific Islands is their relation to the plan of redemption, to the restoration of the world. Coral Reef, In the islands we find how poor are a people without God, and also how rich they may become with him. Though they are low and degraded,. it is found that the gospel is the power of God unto salvation, lifting, even cannibals to the heights of Christian morality. From all nations, kindreds, tongues, and peoples are to come the host that John saw before the throne, who had washed their robes and made them -white in the blood of the Lamb. What a marvelous change will angels behold and rejoice over in the fallen children of men ! For though we look with pity and horror upon the degradation of these savages, we see in them what we ourSelves would be without divine grace, without the benefits of Christian birth in a Christian land, where the. glory of God has abun dantly shone. Oceanica is the name given by modern geog raphers to the fifth division of the globe, and this is again di vided into Aus tralasia, Malaysia, and Polynesia, taking in all the islands of the Pa cific. Australasia-: includes Austra- lia, Tasmania, New Zealand, Papua, or New Guinea, and many smaller islands. Malaysia in eludes the Moluccas, Philippines, Sumatra, Java, the Sunda Islands, Borneo, Celebes, and a large number of smaller ones. Polynesia includes the Hawaiian Islands, Marquesas, Society Islands, Friendly Islands, Fiji Islands, Caroline and La- drone Islands. Voyaging westward from San Francisco, we should find the Pacific Islands strung along singly, in twos and threes, or in connected groups, until we reach the shores of Asia, the Antarctic, region, or the farther coast of Africa. Their existence is attributed to volcanic dis turbances and to coral formation. Though these \ islands are very numerous, and in many cases widely isolated, it is not likely that any new groups, or even single islands of any size, will hereafter be discovered ; and yet it may be pos- 116 Kakahi Falls, Wanganui River, New Zealand. sible that there are lonely dots of land in the ocean, whose inhabitants, if they be so blessed, little dream of continents where are. hives of humanity with swarming millions of men. There may yet be Alexander Selkirks who can say in solitary dissatisfaction, — " I am monarch of all I survey, J My right there is none to dispute." The islands entitled to the name Polynesia, are of Volcanic, or coral formation. The Sandwich, Marquesas, and Tahitian Islands are volcanic, and composed of basalt. They are termed High Poly nesia, in contrast with Median and Low Polynesia. ' They are richly en dowed by nature with fertile valleys and wild dells, and with a tropical veg etation, while their highest mountain peaks are covered with snow. The Median Polynesian Islands are lower, and seem to be made up of rem nants of coral in the form of carbonate of lime, crystallized by volcanic action. They are exceedingly fertile, abounding in beautiful trees that bear delicious fruits. Low Polynesia is the name given to the islands that are yet in a s.tate of formation, which rise only a few feet above the surface of the sea. Their scenery is necessarily of a very tame and peaceful order, and yet a writer says that within the ring of reefing coral the low, cocoa-nut fringed patch of bread-fruit, herbiscus, and other dwarfed shrubs, makes a novel and attractive picture to him whose life has been spent amid the worry and care of a world foreign to the peaceful spots of the Pacific. The formation of these coral islands is in itself a wonderful ' thing. The coral polyp has been compared to the sea-anemone, living in , a hard dwelling instead of a soft one, and in a colony of millions all united iii a solid mass, instead of re maining isolated, as do the sea-anemone of the shores. It is in Polynesia that the head-quarters of the reef-building polyps are found. The coral animal cannot live when exposed to the sun, so their dwellings are never found higher up than low- water mark. Therefore it is clear that the coral islands have not been lifted above the seaby their originators. The waves carry on the work that the polyps leave unfinished, and dash upon their formations die debris of the sea, until birds find a place for a nest, seeds a. soil for their perpetu ation, and finally man a home for his comfort. A recent writer says : " These coral islands, View on Whitsunday Island. inside and out,' are lovely beyond the power of words to describe. Outsid,e, the wild breakers dash with a violence unknown in our latitudes, 118 and send their spray high over the reef, and, as it falls, forms for the moment many-hued rainbows. The whole coast line is white with dazzling foam,. and the incessent roar of the surf is the one sound from which the ear is never free. Inside, all is calm. Here, in a still lagoon, the delicate and beautifully branched corals spread out undisturbed, and shel ter the myriads of fishes and other animals which nestle among the ever forming thicket." Mr. Farmer writes : "It" is a pleasant thing to Coral Grove. float in a canoe over the shallow parts of these very clear waters on a fine day. Keeping your oars still, you may watch the busy and beauteous, life be- lowj you may see fishes of bright hues playing in and out of the coral stems and branches, seem ing to be glad of a refuge from their enemies in the open sea." The volcanic islands are all south of the equa tor, with the exception of the Hawaiian Archi pelago. Within one hundred and fifty degrees east latitude, in a southeasterly direction, to one hundred and forty degrees west latitude, are in cluded all the islands of Polynesia, except isolated groups, the Marquesas and the Hawaiian. On this ridge are no atolls (low islands). The upper boundary line sharply- divides the volcanic ridge from the atoll valley, — the desert of the Pacific. Southern Polynesia is subject to hurricanes. A line extending south from New Hebrides to Fiji will represent the cyclone track. Samoa is said" to have a cyclone about once in seven years. The volcanic islands are high, and surrounded by coral reefs, except where a river, pouring from the islands, has broken through, mak ing a harbor at its mouth. Active volca noes are found in a few places. In New Britain, New Ireland, Solomon Islands, New Hebrides, and Tonga archipela goes, earthquakes are of frequent occurrence. But most of the craters .of Samoa have immense trees growing in their soil. The soil of the volcanic islands is rich and fertile, and most grand and beautiful scenery adorns them. The climate is so moist in most places that ferns, club mosses, and even small shrubs, grow on the rocks ; and this causes the Pacific isl ands to have an ever green vegetation. A traveler writes a de scription of Tahiti that applies to all Pacific isl ands : " The waving cocoa-palms, the verdant mountains in the -background, the bright green of the orange groves, the drooping fronds of the pandanus-tree, almost dipping into the rolling surges on the beach, and the pretty islet, studded with cocoa-palms, situated in the center of the bay, — all combine to form a delightful landscape. Rambling a short distance inland, no plantations were seen, but the whole island may be termed a garden ; for cocoa-palms, bread-fruit trees, plant ains, and bananas, the vi, or Brazilian plum, and 119 the ohja, or jambo, were growing spontaneously, and bearing fruit. To these, at another season, may be added oranges, pine-apples, shaddocks, and other introduced fruit, which thrive as well as the indigenous plants. Advancing farther toward the mountains, the elegant South Sea chestnut- tree adorned the banks of the streams, together with the luxuri ant vegetation of ferns and other plants, while the brows of the hills were covered with thickets of wav ing bamboos, or dense masses of the lofty mountain plantain-tree, conspicuous for its dark green and broad foliage, and huge clusters of orange-colored fruit ; and the up land slopes, leading to a succes sion of naked crags, were feathered by tall, graceful shrubs, loaded, with odoriferous blossoms." The dammara pines are found in several islands. In Norfolk is a pine that reaches the- height of two hundred feet, and is utilized for making masts. The tamanu of Tahiti is covered with scented white flowers, and the resin is used by the Tahitian women as a per fume. It is also exported ftfr the same purpose. The coral-tree is found, in the Peloponesian Islands, and takes its name from its scarlet blossoms. The blood-wood, tree, whose sap is a sanguine colored fluid, and has been used for mark ing the clothes of convicts for Nor folk Island, is another curious tree. The great Banyan tree, so often used as an illustration of the per petuating influence of good and evil, must also be remarked. But of all trees, most likely to be re membered as a South Sea island delicacy, is the sandle-wood tree, bearing across the oceans the per fume of tropical summers, the essence of every thing rare and odorous. It has shed its grateful aroma around the civilized world, and it is to be regretted that the ruthless manner in which the trees have been treated has made them very scarce in their native soil. "Pity 'tis, 'tis true," that much of this fragrant wood has been burned up 120 in incense to hideous Josses by Chinese devotees and so our boudoirs are deprived of the suggestion its odor would bring of the land of the tropics. The bread-fruit is the chief article of food among South Sea Islanders. They have, besides yams and bananas, taro, from which the famous The Shaddock-Tree. "poi" is made, and all trees and plants of warm climates are growing on the islands. Some of these are perfectly at home, and bud and Abloom as if they had never known another soil. The shaddock, orange, custard apple, guava, mango, tobacco, tamarind, cotton, coffee, indigo, and sugar-cane are among these. For the most part the islanders are vegeta rians, and the variety of fruits from which to choose and the skill used in their preparation, en able them to have a continual feast. But though all trees which are pleasant to the sight and good for food are theirs, the old Adam in them has found a forbidden tree from which to prepare fire-water ; it is the pipermethyscicum. They not only have their intoxicating beverage, like their civilized brethren on the verge of their ocean, but they also have something akin to his tobacco, — the " feld nut, " the fruit of areca calichu. It dis- species of convulvulus, and many other plants. The Tahitian women habitually deck themselves with the flowers of the hibiscus, and the orange- colored floWers of the leis. In the Friendly Islands are found from three to four hundred species of flora. The mammals of the ocean islands are few in number. The European has introduced the pig, dog, goat, horse, ox, ass, sheep, and domestic cat, but they degenerate rapidly in the tropics. In New Guinea is a species of native pig. There are also kangaroos, opossom, and various rats and Banyan-Tree. colors the teeth, and makes the saliva of a blood- red color. This is not more revolting, however, than would be a stream of black tobacco juice from a civilized (?) mouth. There, is a curious tree called " kau-karo" the gum of which, on be ing applied to the flesh, will cause pain like that of a burn. A nettle tree is also found here, whose smoke is almost unendurable, and yet in hope of recovery from leprosy, the Fijians afflicted with this disease will stand in its flames until fainting with pain ; of course it fails to benefit the poor creatures. In New Guinea and the neighboring islands, pitcher plants are, found ; and in New Hebrides, bats. In the Samoan Islands there is a species of dog which is distinguished by his wild, mel ancholy howl. Rats are numerous, and constitute an article of diet with many of the natives. In the margrove forests of Fiji there is a huge bat that measures a yard from wing to wing. In the Samoan Islands the natives make pets of the bats, and in the Savage Islands the vampire bat is esteemed delicate eating. In all the seas around are found whales of various kinds. While other animals are rare, birds and butter flies are numerous. In New Guinea and New Britain are specimens of the cassowary, the largest bird inhabiting the group. Several species of par- 121 rot are found in New Guinea, together with the gorgeously plumed bird of Paradise. Hundreds of land birds and sea fowl abound in and around the islands of Oceanica, among which are the alba- tros, famous in sail ors' superstitions, the petrel, boobees, tropic and frigate- birds. Frigate- birds are' often tamed and made pets of, and have served as mail car riers to missiona ries. Lizards and -crocodiles are found in many islands, and some are very large. The chameleon, that strange creature whose hue changes according to his surroundings, is also found in the Fiji and other islands. This creature has come to have a place in literature as an emblem of certain human spe cies which are the sport of circum stances. Turtles, once adored as gods, are very nu merous. The isl ands are remarkably free from poisonous reptiles ; yet in the water along the shores, large, poi sonous sea snakes are often found, and sharks and other fish abound near the islands. In Fiji there is a Pitcher Plant. strange land-crab that throws stones in the face of its pursuer, climbs trees for nuts, and breaks open the shell to get the meat. A writer says : "The natives capture it by tying a handful of grass around the stem pf the tree. When ' Uga- vule ' sets foot on this, it fancies it has reached the ground, and then, quitting hold of the tree, falls to the ground and is so severely stunned that it can be seized." Fine pearls have been found in the 1 o w archipelagoes, but pearl fisheries, though in contem plation, are as y«t not systematically worked. Cock roaches, spiders, fleas, mosquitoes, and other insect pests, make it- in teresting for the foreigner and the native. The woods are lighted by brill iant butterflies and showers of fire-flies. The natives of Fiji have a queer custom of eating a certain sea worm called pa- lolo. The worm rises from the ocean once a year, and covers the waters near the shore for a few hours. The na tives consider this their harvest-time. They dive in among them, scoop them up by the bushel, and fry and seethe and bake them, and for a month or so revel in this pecul iar delicacy. Last but not least in interest are the natives that inhabit these islands. There are three dif ferent kinds of peo ple inhabiting Poly nesia, the black and brown races, and a mixture of the two. The dark races occupy Australia, the Andaman Islands, portions of the Indian Archi pelago, and Western Polynesia, and have more or less affinity with the natives of South Africa. 122 The brown people are found in Madagascar, the Indian Archipelago, Formosa, Northwestern and Eastern Polynesia, together with New Zealand, and are of Asiatic origin. There are also people who belong to both sections, dark and light. The Polynesians were by no means a savage people when they entered the Pacific Islands, but they have greatly deteriorated since their migra tion, doubtless owing to indolence and the unre strained indulgence of the passions of fallen hu man nature. Old age is honored among them., A youth is not counted a man till he is tattooed. They * have some arts. They make cloth from the fibers of the mulberry, and are elegant workers in wood, fashioning spears, knives, drinking cups, and musical instruments. The"ir musical instru ments are rude, generally consisting of drums, flutes, and trumpets. They were originally polytheists. Their gods were first deified men, although some of them had an idea of the Supreme Being. "The unrestricted or unconditioned being" might well be given as the name of the Samoan Jupiter. Each family had its gods, that were invoked at birth and on special occasions. The islanders have a curious custom of setting apart persons or objects to their gods, under the name or mark, "tabu." This is /« HTP- Male Tahitian. supposed to render them sacred, and any one who is so presumptuous as to treat those thus set apart without reference to this custom, is subject to death. Many of the people believe in the existence of man after death. The abode of the dead is sup posed to be in some subterranean region. War- Female Tahitian. riors only are believed to be preserved as disem bodied spirits. The common people are thought to be devoured by the gods, and annihilated, though some declare that even being eaten by the gods does not destroy the spirit. This pagan faith in the immortality of a certain part of man, no doubt had its origin in the falsehood of the serpent that induced our first parents to eat — " Qf that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world, and /all our woe." Divination with the entrails of animals prevails all over the isles of the Pacific. In many widely s-eparated islands, the chief portion of the mar riage ceremony is the throwing of a white cloth over the bride by the bridegroom or his friends. The Polynesians are at the present day a de caying people, and seem to be destined soon to be numbered with the past. Infanticide, war, human sacrifices, and deteriorating practices have brought the race to the verge of oblivion, into which they would have plunged ere this, perhaps, if they had not been rescued by the arrival of the European reformer. They are indeed as " brands plucked from the burning." Civilization has to a great extent changed all their horrid practices, but the fatal consequences, the sins of the fathers visited upon the generations, are doing their in evitable work of ruin. Disease and disaster, the 123 descendants of vice, are fast undermining the race, and ere long the native element will be lost in the European. The Polynesians are pleasing in appearance, v frank and unembarrassed in their manners, and in the South Sea Islands, both women and men are models of graceful symmetry of form. Many of the women, though not finely beautiful, are luxu riant in their physical charms. A pale complex ion is considered a deformity, and however hand some Europeans may be, they are subjects of , commiseration be cause of their lack of color. The hospitality of the Polynesians is ex tended to strangers as well as to their friends. A native will divide his goods among strangers, and leave himself without property. The Ton gans are especially noted for their hospi tality, although they., are not free from the " horrible taint of cannibalism." Can nibalism is thought to have originated from the offering of human sacrifices, and in times of actual want it may have seemed a necessity, until the value of hu man life was counted little among the isl anders. These peo ple are humorous and cheerful, and though affectionate to their families, they are treacherous and fickle. The Samoans are said to be the most gentle and refined of the isl anders, but the New Zealanders are the nobler and the more intellectual. They are polite and amia ble. Women are not treated as inferiors, and in deed they often hold high rank. One writer says : ¦"The Polynesians are> moreover, very tenacious of rank and hereditary title, and in addressing people of position, a different set of phrases must be used from those employed in speaking to the vulgar herd." They have land laws as definite as those of civilized people. They were without litera ture before the whites taught them letters ,; but although the Polynesians had no literature, they possessed elaborate traditions in prose and poetry, in which was preserved their history and religion. They are superior in most respects to other savage races.' A writer says : " They have a decidedly good opinion of themselves, are religious but not moral, and' have proved to be more easily influ enced by Christianity than almost any other peo ple with whom mis sionaries have come in contact, so that few of them, nomi nally at least, retain their primitive faith." The same author says : "When we ex amine the endless archipelagoes of the Pacific, the problem of the races becomes singularly complex. The Papuans are black, woolly headed, oceanic negroes, and they live in close proximity to straight haired, brown skinned, or even fair complexioned races, speaking totally dif- ferent tongues. While the straight- haired people are evi dently of one origin, the black ones are varied, and speak nu- merous tongues, showing that they have lived long apart, and in localities they now occupy, while the strangers who possess the other lands come from a part of the world where they lived in unison until a- comparatively recent date." New Guinea may be termed the home of the Papuans. From this center they have spread over New Ireland, Admiralty Islands, New Brit ain, the Solomon Islands, Santa Cruz, the New Hebrides, the Loyalty Islands, the New Caledonia, and the Fiji group. Physically they resemble the Native Papuan. 124 Warriors of the Samoan Islands. Africans, having the stiff, frizzy hair, thick lips, Tonga, or Friendly Islands, Samoa, or Navigator and coarse features peculiar to natives of Africa. Islands, Phcenix Islands, Cook Islands, Society Isl ands, Austral Islands, Marque- , sas, Tumotu groups, the Ha waiian or Sandwich Islands, and a few of the Papuan group.' The Polynesians have been and still are inclined to roam. All Oceanic people seem to have been navigators to a great ex tent, and even at the present day they roam about from isl and to island, often making themselves new homes far dis- 1 tant from their former residen ces, the superior races driving the Papuans, into the interior. The Polynesians are supposed to have come originally from the Indian Archipelago, and the a, Pah, or Fort. Papuans from Africa, but of course this is speculative. " Their moral characteristics are cruelty, blood- The first islands we should meet on our voyage thirstmess, and inveterate cannibalism." Arts are across the Pacific from San Francisco would be the few, and women hold a low place among them. Sandwich Islands. At one time this name would They cannot be - compared with other races of Poly nesia. They lack historical poem or legend, and their religion is the lowest Fettishism. The Polynesians proper are intellect ual, and susceptible to moral influences. As a rule they are tall, well propor tioned, and rather' brown than black. Their hair is straight, sometimes inclined' to curl. Their features are somewhat regular, their eyes black, their lips a little thicker than those of Europeans, and their noses short and broad. The Polynesian Islands proper may be consid ered New Zealand, the Kerrnadecs, Easter Islands, mm Interior of 'a Pah. have immediately filled us with visions of canni balism and atrocity ; but although this idea has been so prevalent, the Sandwich Islanders at pres- 126 ent are highly insulted at such an intimation. In 1820 they abandoned paganism, and when the missionaries arrived, were ready to accept the faith of the Bible. There are now and then those who will pray to the great shark god, and to their other deities, but such worship is dying out. For fifty years the influence of the gospel has been dispelling the superstitions of the old belief. At the time of Cook's visit to the Sandwich Islands, The people are good-looking, even without the decoration of their barbarous ornaments. They are indolent, amiable, and weak. The climate, which is one long summer, perhaps has some thing to do with this. There are twelve islands in the Sandwich group, but only eight of them are inhabited. They are of volcanic formation. Two of the greatest active volcanoes in the world are found here, besides the largest extinct crater. Valley of the Waipio. the population was estimated to be 400,000. It is now estimated at 56,897, which includes also about 700 whites and Chinese, From this it is evident that the native element is gradually giving place to the foreign element. The government is now of a very aristocratic character. The customs of other monarchs are aped, and such display of manners and dress is seen among the officials as almost to provoke mirth. A humorist declared that one needed a smoked glass in order to look As might be expected, the islands are very mount ainous. The two highest mountain summits are each 14,000 feet in height. One, Of the most beautiful valleys in Hawaii is the Waipio. It is described as "isolated from the little world of which it forms a part. The whole valley is cool with water-falls. Some are very fine. One bounds in- its first leap 200 feet, and in its second 1,600 feet, though much of its vol ume is fritted away in spray and foam The that one neeaea a smuivcu g^^ *- - upon the dazzling uniforms of the dignitaries of valley has many pleasant kalo, coffee fig, and "f .. castor-oil plantations, and large artificial fish- Hawau. r < 127 ponds, in which hundreds of gold-fish gleam. The river is used as a highway, and the natives float down it in canoes." The central part of Hawaii is a plateau from three hundred to four thousand feet in height, covered with forests. Above the plateau rise four volcanoes, but the one called Mauna Loa, rising thirteen thousand feet, is the most wonder ful volcano in the world, and has a number of craters from which burning lava pours forth in the time of its eruption. A traveler, writing of it, says : "Afar off a long line of vapor indicated the position of the volcano, and all. the afternpon we mountain was illuminated by the glare from the fires below, and the crimson glow extended to a breadth of half a mile or more on either side. "Every fresh burst of the volcano sent forth pillars of dense smoke, which rose' to a great height, followed by huge forks of flame that shot ever higher. The vast black floor which lay beneath us a thousand feet down, and which stretched away to the burning cones, was streaked here and there with scarlet streams of liquid lava, which flowed through the deep fissures that led from the fiery caldron. On our right, and high, above us, the beacon light from the great crater Mauna Loa Volcano. rode through vast fields of lava ; sometimes over high rocks, so broken and slippery that the great est caution was necessary to avoid a dangerous fall ; at other times through acres of volcanic sand so deep that our animals could hardly lift their feet. . . . Across this plain we followed the trail up to the edge of the precipice that formed the wall of the far-famed crater." "The subterranean fires, ever moving in a southerly direction, have abandoned the islands one by one, and now exist in Hawaii, the most southerly of the group. ... At the. opposite ex tremity of the crater, a column of thick white smoke arose, whirling and struggling in enor mous wreaths, and lighted at intervals by sheets of flame. The slight mist still hanging over the was visible, its snowy crown contrasting strangely with the reflection of the fire that burnt with such intensity within it. " The visitors' book afforded great amusement. Each visitor, in turn, had apparently seen a more splendid volcanic display than his predecessor, and had thought fit to write down in the most high-flown language his impressions, invariably accompanied with the most atrocious spelling. Mark Twain had added a capital burlesque on these effusions, a perusal of which might deter these composers from again defacing good writ ing-paper." About sixteen miles from the terminal crater of Mauna Loa is another volcano, Kilauea, which is said to be the largest active volcano in the 128 world. A traveler writes, after beholding it, " The spectacle disclosed could certainly have no parallel. It was terrible. I had heard that visi tors had been known to run away after the first glimpse, and never return, and so appalling is the sight that. I can believe it. Almost immediately beneath us, and inclosed by perpendicular ,walls about one hundred feet in height, was a circular lake of crimson lava, with a diametei' of a quarter of a mile. Its heavy, sluggish waves surged in blind fury against the cliffs, with a muffled roar like the deep mutterings of thunder ; not like the glad sound of the surf as it breaks upon the reef, bled into the burning lake with hideous noises, fearfully hinting that at any moment the rock on which we stood might follow their example. A moment of rest, and then a wild motion stirred the surface. The roar grew louder, sending a thrill of horror through us. Then the entire mass surged to one end of the abyss, and one long wave rolled over the intervening space, and reared itself against the opposite wall, where it broke into a crimson foam. Away to our left a smaller lake was acting in the same diabolical manner, and between the two were several great black cones, or rather pits, as their conical if '¦' ''- ' • ;*SH8iv Wmm .*#•-*¦ - ¦M mm Valley in Sandwich Islands. or the changeful music of the water falling from the high rocks, but like the dull, heavy, suppressed breathings of a chained monster, striving to free itself from the molten torrent that lapped it round. The sound was, indeed, as appalling as the sight. The heat was unendurable for any length of time, in spite of a strong breeze in our favor ; and when the hot sulphur blasts sped past us, sweeping up with a moaning sound over the lake of hell, the scene was as close a resemblance to Dante's 'In ferno,' with the shrieks of dpomed spirits, as Gus- tave Dord, in his most lively imagination, could depict. " The walls of the terrible caldron had been undermined by the raging fire ' billows, and at intervals great stones from the hollow cliffs tum- 9 chimneys had been blown off, leaving yawning holes." The same writer speaks of Honolulu as " a quaint, charming little spot, like a slice of south ern Europe in a tropical setting. Here are two- storied houses, with deep verandas and porticoes, standing in detached gardens filled with brilliant flowers and blossoming shrubs. There are white, dusky streets, shaded by all sorts of tropical trees ; green lawns and cocoa-nut palms ; old walls cov ered with magenta-hued bougainvillias, which outshone the more delicate colors of heliotropes, fuchsias, and geraniums, and the wax-like blos soms of the mami-apple tree. A church spire is occasionally seen peeping out of a grove of mango, tamarind, and india-rubber trees. The scene alto- 129 TO gether is very neat, trim, or derly ; the great drawback be ing that there is not enough of it. " The island is not the splen did paradise of liberty it was a century ago, when the first trav elers were welcomed by splendid girls, who came in all innocence to welcome the strangers with fruits, flowers, and dances. Now the missionaries have changed their morals and their costume, at all events the latter, for they dress — at least many do — in Manchester fashions a few years behind the time ; they carry um brellas, and the men wear paper collars. Most of the Hawaiian women, however, wear only a long, loose garment like a night gown, falling to the feet with out being confined at the waist, and it must be confessed that this robe is very becoming to their dusky beauty. Of course this sun-kissed race has a great fondness for colors and finery, and the effect of the graceful 'holuka' is often spoiled by a once fashionable bon net, trimmed with a profusion of flowers, feathers, and faded ribbon. The fresh flower necklace is often supplemented by a string of glass beads, and lockets, and brooches of false stones. . . "They are not pretty, these Hawaiian women, not many of them at all events, but they have soft, gentle dark eyes, and beautifully shaped little brown hands and feet. They are a well- formed race, and evidently take pride in their personal appearance. . . . How splendidly, too, they all ride,— men and women,— straight as darts, and as much at home in the saddle as they are in the water. All shout as they pass a kindly 'aloha,'— a very expressive word, which is con stantly in their mouths, meaning, ' good morning,' 'how do you do,' 'farewell,' etc., and which, being interpreted, is literally, ' my love to you.' "Amusement is their favorite occupation ; and so, riding, playing, dancing, and talking are the only pursuits practiced with assiduity. It has been said that the formation of habits of in dustry is the only way to civilize a people. In that case the Hawaiians have progresserl like a lift iMiiiisil r:,i 'rjawsmt crab. Their old manufactures . are nearly obsolete; and even their na tive athletic games have been super seded by lazy for eign amusements." Of Kealakeakua Bay the following description has been given : " A flaming palm- fringed shore, with a rich strip of table-land- one thousand five hundred feet above it, a dense tim ber belt eight miles in breadth, and a volcano' smoking somewhere between that and the heavens. . . . It is a region where — " ' Hail or any snow Or ever wind blows loudly.' " Another writer says, " Wind is indeed a thing un known. The scarcely audible whisper of soft airs through the trees morning and evening, rain drops falling gently, and the murmur of drowsy surges far 130 below, alone break the stillness. No ripple ever TO&50 disturbs the great expanse of ocean, which gleams daily gave attention to the culture of the .potent- through the still, dark trees. Rose in the sweet- ates, so that they now rank with other monarchs cool morning, gold in the sweet cool evening, but al , ways dreamy ; and while stars come and go, no larger than a butterfly's wing in the horizon, of ships drifting in ocean currents — dream ing too." This description reminds one of Tennyson's "Lotus Eaters " : — ' ' There is sweet music here that - s softer falls . 3 Than petals from blown roses % on- the grass, | Or night dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in the gleaming pass ; Music that gentler on the spirit lies Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes." The Hawaiians have modeled their institutions after the American style. Schools are numerous, and books and newspapers in their language are Bay of Kealakeakua. Images at Konororaka. of the civilized world. They formed a constitu tion, which became the law of the land, persuaded the king and chiefs to renounce their feudal rights, and obtained for the little Polynesian king dom recognition as a member of the Com munity of Nations. And yet, with all its natural and acquired advantages, a .traveler writes, " This nation . . . has to me the mournful aspect of a shriveled and wizened old man. . . . Nor can I divest myself of the idea that the laugh ing, flower-clad hordes of riders, who make the town gay with their presence, are but like butterflies flutter ing out their short lives in the sunshine." abundant. The early missionaries instructed the Right in the glory of this' beautiful group of isl- Hawaiians in the arts of peace, translated the Bible ands is a colony of lepers. The island of Molo- and otljer books, educated the people, and espe- kai would seem to be the frightful exponent of 131 Hawaiia's former life, the prophecy of its soon to be ended career. Before voyaging farther west, let us take a look at Easter Island, famed for its curious monuments, probably built by ancient people not of Polynesian origin. The workmanship is of a superior order, and some of the statues measure twenty-seven feet in height and eight feet across the shoulders. Some of these monuments were overthrown as early as the time of Cook's researches, and at pres- ion of Spain. The Bonin Islands are just out from the Philippines, and may be considered continental. The Solomon Isles, New Britain, New Ireland, New Hanover, and Admiralty Isles form a connected group. Although small vessels from Australia, and American whalers, visit the place for the .pur pose of procuring tortoise shell, the greatest pru dence has to be exercised ; for it is unsafe to visit the islands, as the natives are cannibals. " Human flesh forms their chief article of diet." In one Easter Island. ent but two or three of them are erect. The plat forms on which they were built are modeled after the Cyclopean style, made of immense stones, and are from thirty to forty feet in length, and from twelve to sixteen feet broad. These images are also found on other islands, and it does not seem at all likely that they were built by scaffolding, but by some gigantic means unknown at present. The Ladrone group is composed of numerous scattered islands little visited. Some of them are inhabited ; others swarm with wild hogs, cattle, and horses. The Robber Islands are under the domin- house in New Ireland, Mr. Brown counted thirty- five human lower jaw-bones suspended from the rafters. The people are Papuans. Almost the only clothing the men wear is a wreath of flowers and a shell. They are thievish, and the word gratitude has no equivalent in their language. But in the face of all this, missions have been established, and converts to Christianity have been gained in, these islands. The New Hebrides consist of a long chain of islands, nearly all of them quite large. They are undermined by subterranean fires, and contain 132 many active volcanoes. Until within the last few years, the islands could not be safely ex plored, but owing to the bene ficial results of missionary sta tions, Europeans and Americans can find a home on the islands. Erurrianga was the island where the missionary Williams was murdered by the natives. These people are far from being good looking ; they are inclined to hilarity, easily fright ened, suspicious, and treacherous. Between the New Hebrides and the Solomon Islands are the Queen Charlotte Islands, which are well-wooded and fertile. New Caledonia lies eight hundred miles from the nearest point of Australia, and one thousand miles from the North Cape of New Zealand., It has mines of iron, copper, nickel, and qobalt. It was taken by the French in 1856 for the establishment of a military and a naval station. It has since been made a convict settlement for the exiled communists. The natives are not fond of work, but fierce and troublesome, and laborers have to be imported from New Hebrides. Noumea, the capital, is quite a French town. Military bands in gay uniform, civilians and their ladies, prome nade in the cool of the evening, but it is probable that in the future, convicts will be the only perma nent foreign settlers. Roads and telegraphs are numerous. Oil-yielding plants are abundant, and the cultivation of the mulberry and silk-worm is carried on with success. The Isle of Pine, and reefs for a hundred miles in length, are inhabited by savages of a malevolent type. There is now a large missionary station on the Isle of Pine. The Loyalty Islands were practically unknown until 1849. Enraged by the atrocities of the san- Eggs AND LARV/E of the Silk-Worm. Cocoon dal-wood traders, the natives were at first unfriendly to the whites, and massacred them by the ship-load ; but now they are falling under the influence of the gospel, and manifestly changing for the bet ter. The islands are claimed by the French. The population is 13,334. The Fiji Islands form an archipelago in the South Pacific Ocean. There are about three hun dred and twelve islands in the group, with an area of 8,034 square miles. Only eighty of the islands are inhabited. The islands are very fertile. All kinds of tropical fruit are abundant. The people are of the Melanesian branch of the Malay family. In 1874 the population numbered 146,000, but fully two-thirds of them were destroyed in 1875 by measles introduced by a British man-of-war. There are now about 1,600 whites on the islands. Missions were estab lished in 1835 by the Wesleyans, and most of the people are now professing Christians. The schools and churches are managed by natives. Most of the people can read and write the native language. There are four newspapers published, one of which is managed by a native. The Roman Catholic Church has made many proselytes. The reve nues of the island, accruing from ex ports, amounted to £38,525 in one year. 133 Fiji shows many signs of advancement, but some things will certainly work against its prosperity. Of the appearance of the capital a traveler writes : Isle of Tahiti. "Liquor stores occupy too prominent a place in it, and the idle, slouchy whites, who are seen all day loafing around them, with still worse-looking na tives, do not appear the most promising element out of which the backbone of a colony can be formed." At one time, cannibalism was prevalent among the Fijians, but it is now on the wane, and will soon be a thing of the past. The Tonga Islands are two hundred and fifty miles from Fiji, and because of their enterprize and intelligence, the natives have been called the Anglo- Saxons of the Pacific. The natives are obliged by law to cultivate cotton. They are a remarkably fine-looking race, and until the annexation of the Fiji Islands by the British, they ruled over the in ferior natives. . They no doubt would have taken full control of Fiji if Great Britain had not relieved them -of the task. Most of the natives are now Christians, but they still dress in their primitive fashion, with the exception that the tapa, or na tive1 cloth, is made from cotton instead of from the beaten fibers of the mul berry. Their homes are lightly con structed of bamboo and palm leaves, shut in by fences made of cocoa-nut fiber and leaves, and shaded by bread-fruit and other tropical trees. The Samoan, or Navigator, Islands contain seventeen islands of habitable proportions. They are of volcanic origin, but reefed with coral. The area of the whole group is 2,650 square miles, with ij|i|j|§j|||fc|i g^s HHMMiflMgi WSmm^M Capital of Samoan Islands, 134 a population of 56,000. The soil is rich, the cli mate fine, and the productions varied and profuse. The animals have all been imported. The people are finely formed, intelligent, and affectionate. Women are respected, and not subjected to ardu ous labor. The London Missionary Society began work here in 1836, and the people have become civilized and Christianized to a great extent. It is probable that the Samoan group will become either a colony of Prussia or a naval station for the fleet belonging to that empire. The maidens wear very artistic head-dresses of natural flowers and ferns. It appears that they have a language of flowers. If a coolness rises between a betrothed pair, the damsel gathers a flower and partially separates it down the center. One half the split flower is intended to represent the lover, and the other his intended, and this sig nifies that, though different bodies, they are united in heart. She then sends the flower to the youth, and if he puts it in his hair, it is a token that he wishes to preserve her favor ; but should he tear View in Samoa. A traveler who visited Samoa in the days of its barbarity, said that his guides were continually gathering banana leaves for new habiliments. He found that they kept tearing off their banana leaf garments to roll into cigarettes, and actually smoked away their clothes. He wished he might as easily dispose of his own, as he found the heat very op pressive and exhausting. He described the flowers as very beautiful, finding among them the hibiscus, white trumpet, pride of Barbadoes, and cape jas- samine, which has a very delicious fragrance. Though there are no mammals, there are fifty dif ferent species of birds of beautiful plumage. He says, "The hand of nature supplies the wants which civilization obtains elsewhere artificially." it apart, it signifies that he desires their separa tion. Two hundred miles north of Samoa is a group of islands peopled by a quiet, undemonstrative race of heathens. Manihiki Islands are found to be a fruitful field for the missionaries. Society Isl ands are six in number, with some minor islands, and form three principalities. The people are energetic, industrious, and excellent ship-builders. They are all professed Christians. Tahiti is the chief of a group in the Peloponesian Archipelago. It has an area of 430 square miles, and a population of 7,000. The island is under the protectorate of France. The scenery is very fine, the climate unsurpassed. The race itself is the 135 most handsome of the oceanic people. The higher classes of natives are well educated. Vices have come in with civilization. The drinking of rum, with its attendant evils and the former corruption, is fast diminishing the population. with their Tahitian wives. It was not until 1808 that an American ship touched the island, and in 1814a British man-of-war came, and then the long- forgotten story of the mutineers was revived in the world. Cottage of John Adams. The Hervey, or Cook, Islands are five hundred miles from Samoa. They are of volcanic origin, and the population numbers about 20,000. Al though missionaries found them very ferocious, they are now nearly all Christianized, and have the Bible and other books translated into their language. The natives of the Austral Islands, numbering about 3,000, are all Christians. The Low Archi pelago consists of eighty-one islands. Most of the islanders profess Christianity. One of the outliers of this group is Pitcairn Isl and. It is out of sight of any other land, a gem of the ocean, girdled by cliffs over one thousand feet in height. It was settled by the mutineers of the "Bounty," a ship sent over by England to procure plants of the bread-fruit tree. Growing dissatisfied with their ship-board restraint, or be coming enchanted with the sirens of Tahiti, a number of the crew mutinied, and to escape capt ure finally settled on this lone island of the sea, The Pitcairners became so numerous that a colony was removed to another island. At the time of their discovery, only one of the mutineers was alive, a man named John Adams. He had sincerely repented of his evil course, and was not only living a model Christian life himself, but by his example and instruction, he was leading the children of t':e deceased mutineers into an upright, Christian life. John Adams died, honored and Landing Place, Pitcairn Island. 136 full of years, in 1839. Great Britain .took the island under its protection in 1839. Since then, Pitcairn has become well known to the world. The people "retain all their pristine innocence, love of England, which they have never seen, and of their English relatives." On no island can the mariner be wrecked with greater safety than on Pitcairn ; for hospitality to a fault and unselfish kindness will be manifested toward the unfortu nate. They are all religious, and very fond of music. The queen of England, hearing of their mu sical taste, has sent them an organ. They believe in woman's suffrage, and both sexes above the age of seventeen cast votes as to who shall be governor of the island. Within the past two years the Pitcairn Island ers have adopted the Seventh-day Adventist faith. The missionary by whom this doctrine was brought to the island gives. the following account of his visit : " I left Oakland for Tahiti. . . . They told me I would have to wait for perhaps a year be fore I could go to Pitcairn, but I did not care for the waiting. After twenty-nine days' sailing we reached Tahiti, where I remained for four weeks. One day it was told me that there was a British man-of-war bound for Pitcairn. On this boat I left Tahiti for the island. I was regarded as the guest of the captain of the man-of-war, and every respect and kindness was shown me. We were thirty-two days in reaching Pitcairn. Early the last Monday morning of our voyage, the little island lay in sight, like a loaf of bread upon the waters, and two boats pushed off from the shore to meet us. In the first one was the governor, and the men came on board strong and fearless. The captain fold the governor that there was a missionary on board who would like to land and stay with them awhile. The governor answered that he would be glad to have him, but that there was a law on the island which prpvided that no one could stay without the unanimous vote of the islanders. The captajn recommended me to them, and every one on board, from officers- to crew, spoke well of me. During the voyage I felt that an angel was by my side, and that the Lord had given me the hearts of all on board. The captain decided that he would lie over for thirty-six hours and give all his crew a chance to say that they had been on Pitcairn Island and seen its inhabitants. . . . " The ascent up between the islands is about as steep as stairs, and we went up to five hundred feet above the sea. On the table-land above we met the women and children. Some one asked, 'What ship is that?' I answered, 'It is a British man-of-war.' 'Who is the captian?' — 'Mr. Hope. Think of the blessed hope, and you will not forget his name.' Soon a young lady came up, and look ing straight at me, said, 'Are you a Christian ?' I said, ' I hope I am.' She did not seem satisfied, and asked again, ' Are you a Christian ? ' I spoke more definitely then, and assured her that I was a Christian. Without a word to the governor or the captain, she walked by my side, and took me directly to her father's house. I mistrusted who she was, and asked Tier name. She was Rosalind Young, the daughter of the pastor of the island. I arranged to stay, over night with the family, and as I had brought my books ashore, I explained the prophecies of the Bible. I had a talk with the principal men of the place, to decide whether they would allow me to stay with them. When the vote was taken, there was not one dissenting voice. The captain supplied me with bread, and other necessities and comforts not to' be found on the island, and after two days sailed away. " I began my work with the islanders by visit ing from house to house, explaining the prophe cies that had long been a mystery to them, and after the interest was aroused I proposed having a Bible reading at Mr. Young's house. A good number came, among them the governor's sister. Brother Young was not present, as he was engaged in teaching school at that hour. By the next day he had become so interested that he dismissed school to attend the reading. After awhile it was necessary to remove to the school-house, on ac count of the increasing attendance. " On the Sabbath (Saturday) I took my Bible, climbed the mountain, and sitting down under a banyan tree, stayed there until almost sundown. When I returned, I told brother Young where I had been, and why. The next day he asked me to oc cupy his pulpit, but I told him I was only a deacon in the Oakland church ; I was not a preacher, and they must not regard me as such. I spoke to them about half an hour from my seat, mostly on the Sabbath question. I could see that they were very much interested, and I said, 'Perhaps we could appoint a meeting for next Sabbath.' The people said they would like to meet at that time, and as the governor consented, the arrangement was made. I talked with the governor meanwhile, and by the next Sabbath he was thoroughly convinced 138 Lake Wakatipu, near Glenorehy, New Zealand. On the West Coast Road, New Zealand. of the truth of this Bible doctrine. The whole isl and met the next Sabbath, and Brother Young preached from Ezekiel 20 : 20. As Brother Young showed the Bible argument for the Sabbath, one after another said, ' I will keep it,' ' I will keep it.' This was their first Sabbath, and from that day to this they have never violated the fourth command ment. " When I had been there five weeks, a trading vessel came along, and as I had held Bible read ings with them on all points of Bible truth, and they seemed thoroughly established, I thought I would better come away than run the risk of stay ing a year or more. " I left books on the island to the amount of twenty-five dollars, and Miss Young was to act as librarian. They did not then have money to pay for them, but they have written since that they have the money now, and three times as much more waiting to be put into the missionary cause." Leaving Pitcairn, we come to the Marquesas Islands. Although the French claim authority over the islands, the people, about 6,000, are "in a state of cruel and sensual heathenism." Their cruelty to the white people is partly due to the treatment they have received from the Spaniards. The Gambier Islands are a small group on the south-east of the Low Archipelago. The scattered 140 isles are in the central portion of Polynesia. Lord Howe Island is, like Pitcairn Island, interesting only because of its history. Its inhabitants num ber twenty-seven, including children. The isl and abounds in rats, mice, and wild pigs, the hunting of which forms the chief amusement. The Kermadecs are small basaltic isles four hundred miles north-east of New Zealand, and of no particular interest. New Zealand is more after the European and American type, both in its natural .environments and in its inhabitants ; for the native element has largely given way before the European. The soil Ancient Tomb. of New Zealand is rich, yet not so rich but that men have to live by the sweat of their brow. Sunshine and shadow, calm and storm, are familiarly alter nated, and the transplanted Englishman scarcely knows the difference between this and his native soil. The climate is of a character to develop ro bust, ruddy men. New Zealand is the name, not of any particular island, but. of a country. It is confined to three large islands, and a number of subsidiary ones. Stewart Island is now sparsely occupied by na tives. At the census in 1878, the population of the whole -islands, exclusive of the forty-five thousand Maori, numbered 414,412. In 1870, New Zealand was more meagerly supplied with railroads than any other civilized country; but in nine years its railroad possessions have extended more widely than those of any other country, in proportion to the population. "The introduction of population was a cardinal feature of the policy adopted by the colonists. ;£ 1,250,000 was expended to assist 93,000 persons to immigrate." The Maori, realiz ing the advantages of civilization, have aided rather than retarded the work. The mere sight-seer is disappointed in New Zealand. One writes that "he sees no animal not familiar to him ; though, of course, should he be a zoologist or a botanist he will not fail to detect a thousand minutiae which do not strike the mind of a layman. The in troduced animals and plants are killing off the native ones, just as the whites are displacing the Maori. ...The birds of New Zealand are more peculiar, though the oma is now only represented by the skeletons and by eggs which are found over the country, though some will have it that they are still in exist ence, — a statement which rests on no foun dation of fact, though there can be but little doubt that these gi gantic birds, twelve or fourteen feet in height, existed in the country long after the Maori race arrived from some of the Polynesian islands, But the parrots, cockatoos, laughing jackasses, native companions, lyre, birds, so characteristic of Australia, find no representa tives in New Zealand. Everything to the freshly arrived traveler looks like the land he has left, supposing he has come, as have most of the colo nists, from England directly by sea." "Every thing is English; the scenery, the color and gen eral appearance of the waters, and the shape of the hills are altogether uh-Australian, and very like that in the West of Ireland and the highlands of Scotland. The mountains are brown and sharp and serrated ; the rivers are bright and rapid ; and the Jakes are deep and blue, and bosomed 141 among the mountains.' If a long-sleeping Briton' could be awakened, and be set down among the southern hills, and told that he was traveling in Galway or Cork, or in the West of Ross, he might easily be deceived, though he knew the nature of these countries well ; but he would feel at once that he was being hoaxed if he were told in any part of Australia that he was traveling among Irish or British scenery." The islands are of volcanic origin, and the coast is much broken. In all the islands there are large plains and excellent pasturage. The poured over the face of the lower precipices, hurl ing with them into the sea, masses of rocks and trunks of trees." The scenery of the coast is de scribed as very delightful, with broken bays and steep mountains. Curious monuments are found in New Zealand, relics of the aborigines, in which are recorded in strange emblems the family history, rank, and re ligion. Taranaki is still held as a native province. It has suffered devastation because of the frequent, fierce wars of the Maori. It abounds in minerals, valuable to the European, but as yet they have Maori Family. streams, though short, overflow with the melting snows, and water the plains. The two principal rivers in the North of New Zealand are Waikato and Wai-au-au. The scenery along their banks is attractive and beautiful. The lower slopes of the mountains around are covered with fine trees, and with a dense and splendid undergrowth. At Milford Sound are waterfalls of 700 and 540 feet, which add to the landscape. A writer says, "During a storm of wind and rain mingled with snow and sleet, which, though it was the middle of summer, raged during three days of our stay, avalanches were often heard thundering down with a roar as of distant artillery from the snow field above, while a multjtucle pf foaming cascades not been accessible, for the Maori king refuses to allow the foreigners to enter it or to have any thing to do with them. The Maori were formerly miserable and dejected ; but from the accompany ing cut, it is evident that a degree of comfort and civilization exists among some of them at least. The land of Taranaki had been bought from the natives with unprofitable trifles, but it was after ward restored to them by the government. The policy of the government, however, worked disas ter to the settlers, and even the natives them selves misunderstood the motives of this action. A land league was formed, out of which grew the frightful war ot i860. The Waikato tribe was de feated, but not subdued, They retreated still J4g I # I Wm f a8 if j j, 'i > 2O ¦K-M 'HPm mmlk I WM ^ i HI '\mL If I I farther into the mountains, and their affection for the Europeans was turned to hatred. They dis carded the teaching of the missionaries, and sought to originate a faith for themselves, — a strange mixture of Bible legends and Maori practices. The natives are rapidly decreasing. In 1842 their number was estimated at 1 14,000 ; now it is esti mated to be 45,000, and even this is said to be exaggerated. Aucklandcomprises nearly one-half of the north ern island. A writer, after describing the many ad- R&tfgs as two thousand men have been engaged at one time in digging for it in the soil. It is thought that there are yet thousands of tons buried beneath the surface. The future prospect for New Zealand is a bright one. From all appearances there is much in store for the colonies, but the increase of the foreigner speaks the decrease of the aborigines. The old Maori stock is dying out, pushed out of the way by the thrifty Briton, and New Zealand is inter esting to us only as any civilized country is. Auckland, New Zealand. vantages of this colony, declares that when the Ma ori have melted away.when the coalmines have been made productive, when the iron is utilized, there is no reason why Auckland should not rival London. Many birds and animals have been imported, and the native birds are becoming extinct. New Zea land never has had many singing birds among its species. The kauri pine grows here abundantly, and is used all over New Zealand, in Australia, and in many of the South Sea Islands. Its gum is also an article of commerce. The gum is dug from the ground, where forests have existed, and as many There is nothing novel about it ; it is simply a new branch on the continental tree, representing characteristics with which we are familiar. A commentator says on this : " The New Zealander among John Bulls is John Bullish. He admits the supremacy of England to every place in the world,1 only he is more English than any Englishman at home. He tells you that he has the same climate, only somewhat, improved ; that it grows the same products, only with somewhat heavier crops ; that he has the same beautiful scenery, only somewhat grander in its nature, and more diversified in de- 144 tail ; that he follows the same pursuits, and acts in the same fashion, but with less misery, less of want, and a more general participation in the gifts of God to his country." Westward from New Zealand, and south of Eastern Australia, is the British colony familiarly known as Van Dieman's \r Land, and associated with all sorts of rogues, felons, and jail-birds. However, these original inhabitants are giving way before a better class, and with a change of population a new name has been given to this land, — that of Tasma nia, and the stain of its past association is being wiped out. On leaving the Pacific Islands, we can but glance back to the spots which are of chief interest to us, — the islands where still ;xist the lately civilized or the still uncivilized brother. The life of these islanders is interesting to us as still holding, something of sim plicity unknown to civiliza tion. And yet "the poetry and luxury of the South Sea Islanders leans entirely toward the natives." One who has written extensively of these islands says : "Life in the islands of the South Sea presents two contrast ing pictures to the traveler, one bright, indolent, and romantic ; the other dark, indolent, and aimless. The former is that of the na tives ; the latter is that of the miserable specimens of the great European races who are continually encountered floating about these islands, desolate and broken, — men who have lost all hope, who have gone so completely to ruin that nothing is left of the wreck but a mere shadow ; men who vegetate rather than live, and who have well-nigh lost all trace of a by-gone civilization. To the brown barbarian a monotonous existence is bliss, and he passes his days lolling about under the branches of the banana trees, and among cocoa- nut groves, which reach along the sea-shore as far as the eye can wander. The white man of the South Sea who has no object but a selfish one, gradually loses the traces of civilization, his corn s' - ' af i*ft;, &|.'|JI n i Mi Volcano of Auapehu, Province of Auckland, N. Z. munity with the busy world, his aspiration to the world beyond, and sinks to something more insipid and disgusting than the native barbarian." The Gospel in All Lands says : " Debased and savage as are the natives of the ocean garden" spots, they yet afford to the scientist and the mis sionary a field of most fascinating study. Pushing or drifting or being driven out from the old cen ters of human society on the main-land, in the 146 course of centuries long past, these children of nature have been stranded upon the drifts of soil, and left behind, forgotten and alone, as the great busy world has grown old and wise and wicked, to work out for themselves, unhelped and unhin dered, the great problem of human life in their own simple and natural way. And they have done it in a way which most effectually em phasizes certain old and much-abused doctrines about the inherent constitutional badness of hu man nature. The final net result and sum total of centuries of undisturbed 'development' in the midst of the most favorable physical conditions, seem to be precisely what' the apostle has pict ured in the opening of the epistle to the Romans — filth, ignorance, stupidity, cruelty, lust, hatred, and bfutality. "Missionary -efforts for these people show most strikingly the truth of the philosophy that the gos pel of Jesus Christ has a marvelous, divinely wise adaptation to the conditions and needs of humanity, in whatever state that humanity is found. With minds unhardened by years of Christian influence and appeals on every hand, and uninstructed in the arts and sciences of civilization, these real heathens, while showing the same enmity to righteousness that other men do, have yet risen up in such num bers at the sound of the gospel, and stepped so quickly to such a high plane of pure, simple, straight forward Christian living as has not been seen among the more cultured people of the earth." Missionary operations are now progressing with active energy among these islands. Twenty-eight missionary ships have cruised on the waters of the Pacific, with no other object than to carry the light of God's word to the islanders. The Sunday-schools of America sent forth the valiant Morning Star, and following their example, Sabbatarians will send forth a ship to herald the gospel of the coming kingdom of Christ. The Gospel in All Lands says : "It is clear that a missionary society should think three times before buying a steamer, and weigh the advantages and disadvantages, the profit and the loss. In the South Seas the steam mission ships have been a universal blessing ; their course from island to island has been marked by a path of light in the waters. " From these islands, so long the abode of igno rance and evil, cruelty and blood-shed, a voice of praise is yet to be raised. The command of God has been given : " Keep silence before me, O isles ; " and this silence is to be followed by the speaking of his law; for the prophet says, "The isles shall wait for his law." Praise shall follow this revelation, for the word comes again, "De clare the Lord's praise in the islands." After this, "The kings of the isles shall bring presents," and " the inhabitants of the isles shall be glad." And from this joy the- word shall be fulfilled which says, " Glorify Ihe Lord God of Israel in the isles of the sea." When the final gathering of the people of God is consummated, from these " pearls of the Pacific" will be gathered "jewels" precious in the sight of the Lord ; for though taken from dark mines of heathenism and savagery, He who sits as a refiner and purifier of silver will refine and polish them, that they may appear reflecting his own image from the diadem of his glory. - 147 Rip Van Winkle. Story of Rip Ycm Winkle.* HOEVER has made a voyage up the Hudson must remember the Catskill w~~ Mountains. They are seen away to the ]> west of the river, swelling up to a noble N hight, and overlooking the surrounding country. At the foot of these mountains the voyager may have noticed the light smoke curling up from a village. It is a little village of great antiquity, having been founded by some of the Dutch colo nists in the days of the good Peter Stuyvesant. There were, till within a few years, some of the houses of the original settlers standing, built of small yellow bricks brought from Holland, having latticed windows and gable fronts, surmounted by weathercocks. In this village, and in one of these very houses, according to the story of the old tradi tion, lived, in the days while our country was yet a province of Great Britain, a simple, good- natured fellow, by the name of Rip Van Winkle. He was a great favorite with all the children of *he village, and whenever he appeared, they would shout for joy. He helped them at their sports, made their playthings, taught them to fly kites and shoot marbles, and told them long stories of ghosts, witches, and Indians. Now, there was one thing for which Rip had a wholesome dislike, and that was work. He would never refuse to assist a neighbor, and was the foremost man at all country frolics, for husk ing Indian corn or building stone fences — in a word, Rip was ready to attend to anybody's business but his own. But as to attending to the wants of his family, and keeping his own farm in order, he found it impossible. In fact, he declared it was of no use to work on his farm ,; it was the most worthless little piece of ground in the whole country ; everything about it went wrong, and would go wrong in spite of him. His fences were continually falling to pieces ; his cow would either go astray, or get among the cabbages ; weeds would grow quicker in his fields than anywhere else ; the ' rain always made a point of setting in just as he had a piece of out door work to do— so that, though the broad lands left him by his father had dwindled down to a few acres — little more than enough for a patch of Indian corn and potatoes — yet it was the worst looking piece of ground in the neighborhood. •Adapted from Washington Irving. Rip Van Winkle, however, was one of those happy mortals who take the world easy, eat white bread or brown, whichever can be got with least thought or trouble, and would rather starve on a penny than work for a pound. If left to himself, he would have whistled his life away, in perfect contentment; but his wife kept continually din ning in his ears about his idleness, his careless ness, and the ruin he was bringing on his family. Morning, noon, and night her tongue was going ; and it must be admitted that the good woman had some cause for her complaints. Times grew worse and worse with Rip Van Winkle as the years rolled, on. For a while he used to console himself, when driven, from home by his wife's tongue, by taking his place with other idle personages of the village, upon a bench before the small inn. Here they used to sit in the shade, of a long lazy summer's day, talking listlessly over village gossip, or telling endless sleepy stories about nothing. But even from this stronghold the unlucky Rip was at length driven ; for one day who should break in upon the tran quility of the assemblage but Dame Van. Winkle, with her sharp tongue, taking them all to task for encouraging her husband in habits of idleness. These visits were repeated until poor Rip was driven almost to despair ; and the only way to escape from the labor of the farm and the clamor of his wife, was to take his dog and gun, and stroll away to the woods. In a long ramble of this kind, on a fine au tumn day, Rip had unconsciously scrambled to one of the highest parts of the Catskill Mount ains. He was after his favorite spoft of squirrel- shooting, and the still solitudes had echoed and re-echoed with the reports of his ¦ gun. Weary with the chase, he threw himself late in the after noon, on a green knoll covered with mountain herbage, that crowned the brow of a precipice. Here he remained until he became -aware that evening was gradually coming on, and realized that it would be dark long before he could reach the village, and gave a heavy sigh at the thought of Dame Van Winkle's anger. Thinking of this, he kept putting off making a start till he finally fell asleep, and slept a long sleep, full of strange dreams and fancies. On waking, he found himself on the green knoll where he had fallen asleep. He rubbed his eyes — it was a bright sunny morning. " Surely," thought Rip, " I have not slept here all night !" He looked around for his gun, but in place of 149 the clean, well-oiled fowling-piece, he found an old, rusty, worm-eaten affair, with the lock falling off. He now suspected that some one had played a trick on him, and robbed him of his gun while he slept. Wolf, too, had disappeared, but he might have strayed after a squirrel or partridge. He whistled after him, and 'shouted his name, but all in vain ; the echoes repeated his whistle and shout, but no dog was to be seen. What was to be done ? The morning was passing, and Rip felt famished for want of his breakfast. He again called and whistled after his dog ; but he was only answered by the caw ing of a flock 'of idle crows, sporting high in air about a dry tree that overhung a steep precipice, and who, secure in their elevation, seemed to look down and mock the poor man's perplexities. He grieved to give up his dog and gun ; he dreaded to meet his wife ; but it would not do to starve among the mountains. As he began to walk, he found himself stiff in the joints, and wanting in his usual activity. "These mountain beds do not agree with me," thought Rip, " and if this frolic should lay me up with a fit of the rheuma tism, a blessed time of it I shall have with Dame Van Winkle." As he approached the village, he met a num ber of people, but none whom he knew, which somewhat surprised him, as he had thought himself acquainted with every one in the country around. Their dress, too, was of a different fashion from that to which he was accustomed. They all seemed to be staring at him. He now entered the skirts of the village. A troop of strange children ran at his heels, hooting at him, and pointing to his long gray beard. The dogs, too, not one of whom he recognized as an old ac quaintance, barked at him as he passed. The very village was altered ; it was larger and more populous. There were rows of houses which he had never seen before ; strange names were over the doors, strange faces at the windows — every thing was strange. His mind now misgave him; He began to think him self and the world around him must be bewitched. Surely this was his native village, which he had left but a day before. There stood the Catskill Mountains ; there ran the silver Hudson at a dis tance ; every hill and dale was precisely as it had always been. Rip was sorely perplexed. It was with some difficulty that he found the way to his own home, which he approached tremblingly, ex pecting every minute to hear the shrill voice of Dame Van Winkle. He found the house gone to decay — the roof fallen in, the windows shat tered, and the doors off the hinges. A half- starved dog, that looked like Wolf, was skulking about it. Rip called him by name, but the cur only snarled, showed his teeth, and ran away. This was the unkindest cut of all. " My very dog," sighed poor Rip, " has forgotten me ! " He entered the house, which, to tell the truth — Dame Van Winkle had always kept in good order. It was empty and forlorn. The deso- lateness overcame him, and he called aloud for his wife and children; the lonely rooms, rang for a moment with his voice, and then all was still again. He now hurried forth, and hastened to his old resort, the village inn ; but it too, was gone. A large wooden building stood in its place, with great gaping windows, some of them broken, and mended with old hats and gowns ; and over the door was painted, " The Union Hotel, by Jonathan Doolittle." Instead of the great tree that used to shelter the quiet little Dutch inn of yore, there now was reared a tall naked pole, with something on the top that looked like a red night-cap, and from it was fluttering a flag, marked with strange stars and stripes. There was, as usual, a crowd of folks about the tavern door, but none that Rip knew. He looked in vain for the sage Nicholas Vedder, with his broad face, double chin, and long pipe, sending forth clouds of smoke, and Van Bummel, the school master, doling forth the contents of an ancient newspaper. The appearance of Rip, with his long grizzled beard, his rusty fowling-piece, his uncouth dress, and the army of women and children which had gathered at his heels, at once attracted the attention of the loungers. One very important looking old gentleman in a cocked hat demanded in an austere tone to know what had brought him there with a gun over his shoulder, and a mob at his heels, and whether he meant to stir up a riot in the village. Poor Rip humbly assured them that he meant no harm, and had merely come there in search of some of his neighbors, who - used to be about the tavern. "Well, who are they?" demanded the old gentleman before mentioned. Rip bethought himself a moment, and inquired, "Where's Nicholas Vedder?" There was silence for a little space, when an old man replied in a thin piping voice, "Nicholas 150 Vedder ? why, he is dead and gone these eight een years. "Where's Brom Dutcher?" said the puzzled Rip. " Oh, he went off to the army in the beginning of the war, and — well, he never came back again." " Where 's Van Bummel, the school-master ? " | " He went off to the wars too, and was a great general ; but he never came back either." Rip's heart died within him at hearing of these sad changes in his home and friends, and finding himself thus alone in the world. He had no courage to ask after any more friends, but cried out in despair, "Does anybody here know Rip Van Winkle ? " " Oh, Rip Van Winkle ! " exclaimed two or three. " Oh, to be sure ! that 's Rip Van Winkle yonder, leaning against the tree." Rip looked, and beheld an exact likeness of himself as he went up the mountain, apparently as lazy, and certainly as ragged. The poor fel low was more puzzled than ever. The man in the cocked hat now asked him again in a more kindly tone who he was, and what was his name. " The Lord only knows," exclaimed Rip, brok enly ; " I am not myself — I 'm somebody else — that's me yonder — no — that's somebody else got, into my shoes — I was myself last night, but I fell asleep on the mountain, and they changed my gun, and everything's changed, and I'm changed, and I can't tell what's my name, or who I am." The bystanders now began to wink at each other knowingly, and there were whispers about taking his gun from him, lest he harm some one. ,At this moment a comely young woman came through the throng to get a look at the old man. The chubby child in her arms was frightened, and began to cry at sight of him. " Hush, Rip," said she, "hush, the old man won't hurt you." The name of the child, the air of the mother, the tone of her voice, all seemed to call up old mem ories in his mind. "What is your name, my good woman?" asked he. "Judith Gardiner." "And your father's name?" "Ah, poor man, his name was Rip Van Win kle ; but it's 'years since he went away from home with his gun, and never has been heard of since —his dog came home without him ; but whether he accidentally shot himself, or was carried off by the Indians, nobody can tell. I was then but a little girl." "And where's your mother?" "Oh, she died only two years ago. She spent her last years at my house. Poor mother, she used to have a sharp tongue of her own ; and after father did not come back, she was ever a blaming herself for driving him away. But I was only a child myself, you see." Rip could contain himself no longer. He caught his daughter and her child in his arms. "I am your father," cried he — "young Rip Van Winkle once, old Rip Van Winkle now ! Does nobody know poor Rip Van Winkle ? " All stood amazed until an old woman, totter ing out from the crowd, put her hand to her brow, and peering under it into his face for a moment, exclamed, " Sure enough, it 's Rip Van Winkle — it is he himself. Welcome home again, old neigh bor. Why, where have you been these twenty long years and more ? " Rip's story was soon told, for the whole time had been to him but as one night. The company broke up, and returned to their homes, talking over the strange affair. Rip's daughter took him home to live with her ; she had a snug, well-fur nished house, and a stout, cheery farmer for a husband, whom Rip remembered as one of the urchins who used to climb on his back. It was some time before he could get into the regular track of gossip, or could be made to un- derstanc] the strange events that had taken place during his sleep, — how that there had been a revolutionary war ; that the country had thrown off the yoke of old England ; and that, instead of being a subject of his Majesty, George the Third, he was now a free citizen of the United States. But Rip was not, and never had been, much of a politician, so the changes of states and empires made but little difference to him. He used to tell his story to everybody who came to the tavern, and every man, woman, and child in the neighborhood knew it by heart. Some always pretended not to believe it, and declared there was something not quite right with Rip's head. But most of the old Dutch inhabit ants gave it full credit, and the story was told as a fact on the bench in front of the old tavern for years after the old man slept with his fathers the sleep that knows no waking. And what right minded person could doubt a story told on such authority ! 151 The Firpt Settler'? Story. 5T ain't the funniest thing a man can do- Existing in a country when it's new ; Nature, who moved in first — a good long while — Has things already somewhat her own style, And she do n't want her woodland splendors battered, Her rustic furniture broke up and scattered, Her paintings, which long years ago were done By that old splendid artist-king, the sun, Torn down and dragged in civilization's gutter, Or sold to purchase settlers' bread and butter. She don't want things exposed from porch to closet, And so she kind o' nags the man who does it. She carries in her pockets bags of seeds, As general agent of the thriftiest weeds ; She sends her blackbirds, in the early morn, To superintend his fields of planted corn ; She gives him rain past any duck's desire — Then maybe several weeks of quiet fire ; She sails mosquitoes— leeches perched on wings — To poiso.n him with blood-devouring stings ; She loves her ague-muscles to display, And shake him up — say every other day , With thoughtful, conscientious care she makes Those travelin' poison-bottles, rattlesnakes ; She finds time, 'mongst her other family cares, To keep in stock good wild-cats, wolves, and bears. Well, when I first infested this retreat, Things to my view looked frightful incomplete ; But I had come with heart-thrift in my song, And brought my wife and plunder right along ; I had n't a round-trip ticket to go back, And if I had there was n't no railroad track ; And drivin' East was what I could n't endure : I had n't started on circular tour. My girl-wife was as brave as she was good, And helped me every blessed way she could ; She seemed to take to eyery rough old tree, As sing'lar as when first she took to me. She kept our little log house neat as wax, And once I caught her fooling with my ax. She learned a hundred masculine things to do ; She aimed a shot gun pretty middlin' true, Although, in spite of my express desire, She always shut her eyes before she 'd fire. She had n't muscle (though she had the heart) In out-door work to take an active part; Though in our firm of Duty and Endeavor She wasn't no silent partner whatsoever. When I was logging, burning, choppm' wood, She 'd linger round and help me all she could, And kept me fresh-ambitious all the while, And lifted tons just with her voice and smile. With no desire my glory for to rob, She used to stan' around and boss the job ; And when first-class success my hands befell, Would proudly say, " We did that pretty well ! " She was delicious, both to hear and see- That pretty wife-girl that kep' house for me. Well, neighborhoods meant counties in those days ; The roads did n't have accommodating ways ; And maybe weeks would pass before she' d see— And much less talk with— any one but me. The Indians sometimes showed their sun-baked faces, But they didn't teem with conversational graces ; Some ideas from the birds and trees she stole, But 'twas n't like talking with a human soul ; , And finally I thought that I could trace A half heart-hunger peering from her face. Then she would drive it back and shut the door ; Of course that only made me see it more. 'T was hard to see her give her life to mine, Making a steady effort not to pine ; 'T was hard to hear that laugh bloom out each minute, And recognize the seeds of sorrow in it. No misery makes a close observer mourn Like hopeless grief with hopeful courage borne ; There 's nothing sets the sympathies to paining Like a complaining woman uncomplaining. It always draws my breath out into sighs To see a brave look in a woman's eyes. ¦Well, she went on as plucky as could be, Fighting the foe she thought I did not see, And using her heart-horticultural powers To turn that forest to a bed of flowers. Tou cannot check an unadmitted sigh, And so I had to soothe her on the sly, And secretly to help- her draw her load ; And soon it came to be an up-hill road. Hard work bears hard upon the average pulse, Even with satisfactory results ; But when effects are scarce, the heavy strain Falls dead and solid on the heart and brain. And when we 're bothered, it will oft occur We seek blame-timber ; and I lit on her ; And looked at her with daily lessening favor, For what I knew she could n't help to save her. And Discord when he once had called and seen us, Came round quite often, and edged in between us. One night when I came home unusual late, Too hungry and too tired to feel first-rate, Her supper struck me wrong (though I '11 allow She had n't much to strike with anyhow) ; And when I went to milk the cows, and found They 'd wandered from their usual feeding ground And maybe 'd left a few long miles behind 'em, Which I must copy if 1 meant to find 'em, Flash-quick the stay-chains of my temper broke, And in a trice these hot words I had spoke : " Tou ought to 've kept the animals in view, And drove 'em in ; you 'd nothing else to do. The heft of all our life on me must fall ; 152 you just lie round, and let me do it all." That speech — it had n't been gone half a minute Before I saw the cold black poison in it ; And I 'd have given all I had, and more, To 've only safely got it back in-door. I'm now what most folks "well to do" would call : I feel to-day as if I'd give it all, Provided I through fifty years might reach And kill and bury that half-minute speech. She handed back no words, as I could hear ; She did n't frown ; she did n't shed a tear ; Half proud, half, crushed, she stood and looked me o'er. Like some one she had never seen before I But such a sudden anguish-lit surprise I never viewed before in human eyes. (I 've seen it oft enough since in a dream ; It sometimes wakes me like a midnight scream.) Next morning, when, stone-faced but heavy-hearted. With dinner pail and sharpened axe I started Away for my day's work, she watched the door, And followed me half way to it or more ; And I was just a-turning round at this, And asking for my usual good-by kiss ; But on her lip I saw a proudish curve, And in her eye a shadow of reserve ; And she had shown — perhaps half unawares — Some little independent breakfast airs ; And so the usual parting didn't pccur, Although her eyes invited me to her ; Or rather half invited me, for she Did n't advertise to furnish kisses free ; You always had — that is, I had to pay Full market price, and go more'n half the way. So, with a short " Good-by," I shut the door, And left her as I never had before. But when at noon iny lunch I came to eat, Put up by her so delicately neat, Choicer, somewhat, than yesterday's had been, And some fresh, sweet-eyed pansies she'd put in — " Tender and pleasant thoughts," I knew they meant - It seemed as if her kiss with me she 'd sent ; Then I became once more her humble lover, And said, " To-night I '11 ask forgiveness of "her." I went home over-early on that eve, Having contrived to make myself believe, By various signs I kind o'knew and guessed, A thunder-storm was coming from' the west. ('T is strange, when one sly reason fills the heart, How many honest ones will take its part : A dozen first-class reasons said 't was right That I should strike home early on that night.) Half out of breath, the cabin door I swung, With tender heart-words trembling on my tongue ; But all within looked desolate and bare : My house had lost its soul, — she was not there ! A penciled note was on the table spread, And these are something like the words it said : "The cows have strayed away again, I fear ; I watched them pretty close ; don't scold me, dear. And where they are I think I nearly know : I heard the bell not very long ago. . . . I' ve hunted for them all the afternoon ; I'll try once more — I think I'll find them soon. Dear, if a burden I have been to you, And have n't helped you as I ought to do, Let old-time memories my forgiveness plead : I 've tried to do my best — I have, indeed. Darling, piece out with love the strength I lack, And have kind words for me when I get back." Scarce did I give this letter sight and tongue — Some swift-blown rain-drops to the window clung, And from the clouds a rough, deep growl proceeded : My thunder-storm had come, now 't was n't needed. I rushed out-door. The air was stained with black : Night had come early, on the storm-cloud's back : And everything kept dimming to the sight, Save when the clouds threw their electric light ; When, for a flash, so clean-cut was the view, I 'd think I saw her — knowing 't was not true. Through my small clearing dashed wide sheets of spray, As if the ocean waves had lost their way ; Scarcely a pause the thunder-battle made, In the bold clamor of its cannonade. And she, while I was sheltered, dry, and warm, Was somewhere in the clutches of the storm ! She who, when storm-frights found her at her-best, Had always hid her white face on my breast ! My dog, who 'd skirmished round me all the day, Now crouched and whimpering in a corner lay ; I dragged him by the collar to the wall, I pressed his quivering muzzle to a shawl — "Track her, ola boy ! " I shouted ; and he whined, Matched eyes with me, as if to read my mind, Then with a yell went tearing through the wood. I followed him as faithful as I could. No pleasure-trip was that, through flood and flame ; We raced with death ; we hunted noble game. All night we dragged the woods without avail ; The ground got drenched — we could not keep the trail. Three times again my cabin home I found, Half hoping she might be there, safe and sound ; But each time 'twas an unavailing care ; My house had lost its soul ; she was not there ! When climbing the wet trees, next morning-sun Laughed at the ruin that the night had done, Bleeding and drenched, by toil and sorrow bent, Back to what used to be my home I went. But as I neared our little clearing-ground — Listen ! — I heard the cow-bell's tinkling sound. The cabin door was just a bit ajar ; It gleamed upon my glad eyes like a star. " Brave heart," I said, " for such a fragile form ! She made them guide her homeward through the storm ! " Such pangs of joy I never felt before. "You 've come ! " I shouted, and rushed through the door. Yes, she had come — and gone again. She lay With all her young life crushed and wrenched away - Lay, the heart-ruins of our home among, Not far from where I killed her with my tongue. The rain drops glittered 'mid her hair's long strands, The forest thorns had torn her feet and hands, And 'midst the tears — brave tears — that one could trace Upon the pale but sweetly resolute face, I once again the mournful words could read, " I 've tried to do my best — I have, indeed." And now I 'm mostly done ; my story's o'er ; Part of it never breathed the air before. 'T is n't over-usual, it must be allowed, To volunteer heart-history to a crowd, And scatter 'mongst them confidential tears, But you '11 protect an old man with his years ; And wheresoe'er this story's voice can reach, This is the sermon I would have' it preach : Boys flying kites haul in their white-winged birds : You can 't do that way when you 're flying words. "Careful with Are," is good advice we know : " Careful with words," is ten times doubly so. Thoughts unexpressed may sometimes fall back dead. But God himself can't kill them when they 're said. You have my life-grief ; do not think a minute 'Twas told to take up time. There 's business in it It sheds advice : whoe'er will take and live it, Is welcome to the pain it costs to give it. Will M. Cakleton. 153 The Qrow^' Qounei]. HE Crows of Crow Hollow were deeply indignant. They held indignation meet- r* ings on every tree and fence corner in the neighborhood, until the air resounded with their shrill "caw, caw," and the spiteful flutter of their ebony wings; and the object of all this veno- .mous hatred, the innocent cause of this gen eral uprising, was Farmer Brown's wind -mill that stood just back of his barn, and just within the boundary of his corn-lot. Now, this par ticular branch of the Crow family i n general had for years made this vicinity their summer resort; and yearly, as re turned the balmy spring, they re turned with it from their winter residence in the South, and by their exemplary industry and pa tience in plying their trade — help- ing Farmer Brown's corn to the surface — they gained an ample livelihood. In years past the family had been small and insignificant, and had 1 i v ed in unostentat i o us style ; but every year had doubled and thribled their numbers, until now they had a regularly organized commu nity, held their heads high, and looked with dis dain upon every other fowl creature in the neighborhood. Men and scare-crows they treated with like contempt, considering the former but a portable species of the latter, and both as a lower order of beings brought into existence for their express^ 154 benefit, one as a dispenser of food which by good picted on every countenance, and at first no one rights was theirs already, the other as a con- had much to say. After awhile they began to venient roosting place, and a sort of observatory talk, and each had some way to suggest for from which they could make plans regarding their ridding themselves of this terrible intruder ; but further cultivation of the land. none of their plans seemed really practicable. At Having thus lost all fear of either, they natur- last the President, who was a wise old Crow, pro- ally considered the surrounding cpuntry their own, posed to call in some of the surviving members and thought it certainly magnanimous in them to allow Farmer Brown and his fellows to become their tenants without payment of rent. Hence it was with deep indignation and injured self-esteem that upon their return from the South one spring, they found that Farmer Brown had erected the largest kind of scare-crow on his corn-lot ; and, moreover, the thing had but one leg, no head to speak of, and four arms, the latter of which it kept in constant motion, as if to hide its deform ities. Such a cawing and flapping of wings as there was. " What an insult ! " cried one. " He shall be punished for this ! " said another. " Does he think we are fools, or have n't cut our eye-teeth yet ? " derisively asked one hot headed young crow; "come on, we'll show him," and with that, away he flew, with several companions, directly into the monster's great, whirl ing arms. Alas ! there was more fluttering of feathers than was counted on, and three black corpses lay stretched on the ground. Dire dismay now filled the remainder of the colony, who, at a short distance, witnessed this sad disaster, and there was a general wringing of claws, and tearing of feathers among them. That decisive measures would have to be taken, was inevitable. The old ones were for council first, but the younger ones for war. " In numbers lies strength" was their motto, and despite the fore bodings and pleadings of their elders, they formed in a compact body, and were off like the wind, intending to carry the foe by storm. The foe carried them, at least four of them, around on its big arms at one revolution, then dropped them, lifeless, by the side of their late com panions. Six. were badly wounded, and, by the way, drew pension for years < afterward as veterans disabled in the Revolutionary War. The remainder beat a hasty retreat, sorrow ful and crest-fallen. Confusion now reigned su preme. At last a council was decided upon, and of the assaulting party, and cross-question them in regard to the conduct of the enemy at the time of the encounter. Accordingly, three young Crows were brought in ; and after placing his glasses securely on the bridge of his nose, the President proceeded to examine them. The ques tions and answers were something as follows : — " Did the enemy retreat when it saw you coming ? " " No, it did not, your Honor." " Did it advance to meet you ? " " No, it stood exactly in the same position from first to last." " Then it has not been known to leave its place to attack any of our number in the field ? " " No, your Honor ; we have been in the field several times since, both to reconnoiter and to obtain food, but it has not appeared to notice us." "Just as I thought," said the wise Crow, as he gravely took off his glasses and polished them on one wing ; " now you may go," turning to the witnesses, who thereupon retreated a short dis tance. " Just as I thought," repeated he. " Now, my opinion is and has been, that if we let that thing alone, it will let us alone. We learn on good authority that it has never been known to move, and for my part I would as soon expect these trees to turn about and chase us, as that. Of course it swings its arms around, but that it can't help ; it is it's nature, and if we get in reach of them, we must expect to get hurt. I believe that if we let it alone, and mind our own business, it will not interfere with ours." Approval beaming on every countenance, the committee adjourned to report to the community, which adopted the report with- every claw up lifted, and ordered it spread on the records. After that the Crow family thrived, and though still a little timid of the wind-mill, per ceiving that it took no notice of them, they finally grew so bold that they daily sought the huge trough at its feet, where the cattle drank, a committee of twenty-five was chosen, with their for their morning ablutions, and to wash down President as chairman, to discuss the matter, and the corn that sometimes stuck in their greedy advise as to future action. . throats. However, they took good care to keep Immediately after the coroner's inquest and the out of the way of its arms and their deadly funeral services, they met in solemn conclave, embrace. clad in the deepest mourning. Grief was de- Moral : Shun evil, and evil will shun you. 155 Old King Winter'? Song. |H, I am the friend of the boys and girls ! 1 I am the fellow they love When there 's plenty of frost on the earth below, And plenty of sunshine above. To me they look for the frozen pond, All ready for skate and slide ; To me they turn with their sleds so swift For a coasting hill so wide. There is snow for the sleigh-rides far and near, And the bells are ringing a chime Of the merriest music in all the world, As a tribute to winter-time. If I kiss the cheeks of the lasses so That they tingle awhile, what then ? I must have my share of the fun before The summer shall come again. I deck the trees with a fringe so bright That they glisten in sun or shade ; And I scatter my snowflakes in the air Till they fill each valley and glade ; And, climbing up to the mountain-top, Each shrub and tree I crown, And I spread the whitest of covers o'er The ground so barren and brown. I 'm hoary-headed and old, I know, But the boys won't care for that ; They 're bound to welcome the jolly old King Who wears the snow-brimmed hat. For I am the friend of the young and strong, And a merry old soul am I When there 's plenty of snow on the frozen ground. And over it all blue sky 1 ]\fo Room for Q\d M°^er. GOING north, madam ? " "No ma'am." " Going south, then ? " "I don't know, ma'am." " Why, there are only two ways to go." " I did n't know. I was never on the cars. I 'm waiting for the train to go to John." " John ? There is no town called John. Where is it?" " Oh, John's my son. He 's out in Kansas, on a claim." , " I am going right to Kansas myself. You intend to visit ? " "No ma'am." She said it with a sigh so heart-burdened that the stranger was touched. "John sick?" "No."The evasive tone, the look of pain in the fur rowed face were noticed by the stylish lady as the gray head bowed upon the toil-marked hand. She wanted to hear her story — to help her. "Excuse me. John in trouble?" " No, no ; I'm in trouble. Trouble my old heart never thought to see." "The train does not come for some time. Here, rest your head on my cloak." " You are very kind. If my own were so, I shouldn't be in trouble to-night." " What is your trouble ? Maybe I can help you." "It's hard too tell it to strangers, but my old heart is too full to keep it back. When I was left a widow with the three children, I thought it was more than I could bear ; but it was n't so bad as this — " The stranger waited till she recovered her voice to go on. - " I had only the cottage and my willing hands. I toiled early and late all the years till John could help me. Then we kept the girls at school, John and me. They were married not long ago. Married rich, as the world goes. John sold the cottage, sent me to the city to live with them, and he went west to begin for himself. He said we had provided for the girls, and they would provide for me now — " Her voice choked with emotion. The stranger waited in silence. " I went to them in the city, I went to Mary's first. She lived in a great house with servants 156 to wait on her — a house many times larger than the little cottage ; but . I soon found there was n't room enough for me — " The tears stood in the lines on her cheeks. The ticket agent came out softly, stirred the fire, and went back. After a pause she continued : — "I went' to Martha's — went with a pain in my heart I never felt before. I was willing to do anything so as not to be a burden. But that was n't it. I found they were ashamed of my bent old body and withered face — ashamed of my rough, wrinkled hands, made sp toiling for them — " The tears came thick and fast now. The stranger's hand rested caressingly on the gray head. " At last they told me I must live at a boarding-house, and they'd keep me there. I could n't say anything back ; my heart was too full of pain. I wrote to John what they were going to do. He wrote right back, a long, kind letter, for me to come right to him. I always had a home while he had a roof, he said. To come right there and stay as long as I lived ; that his mother should never go out to strangers. So I'm going to John. He 's got only his rough hands and his great, warm heart, but there 's room for his old mother, God bless him — :" The stranger brushed a tear from her fair cheek, and waited the con clusion. " Some day when I am gone where I'll never trouble them again, Mary and Martha will think of it all. Some day when the hands that toiled for them are folded and still ; when the eyes that watched over them through many a weary night are closed forever ; when the little, old body, bent with the burdens it bore for them, is 'put away where it can never shame them — " The agent drew his hand quickly before his eyes and went out as if to look for the train. The stranger's jeweled fingers stroked the gray locks, while the tears of sorrow and the tears of sympathy fell together. The weary heart was unburdened. Soothed by a touch of sympathy, the troubled soul yielded to the longing for rest and she fell asleep. The agent went noiselessly about his duties that he might not wake her. As the fair stranger watched, she saw a smile on the care-worn face, i The lips moved. She bent down to hear. ENlittlebrowii^i birds, all in t/^^^r^' a row, Hopping along on top of the snow ; Brave little fellows, who ne'er fly away When the winds become keen, and the ¦ skies become- gray. Where do they hide, and where do they sleep, That safe from Jack Frost they manage to keep ? For down to this spot, as sure as the sun, They come every day when the chickens are done. These uever eat all of their meal up quite clean ; And many sweet morsels the little guests glean ; Till so smooth, and so round, and so plump they have grown, They can laugh at the birds that have far away flown. Now Katie, the cook, who bakes and who brews, Says little brown birds make very good stews. Cruel old Katie ! I'd starve — wouldn't you?— Before I would eat any one of the crew. "I'm doing it for Mary and Martha. They'll take care of me sometime." She was dreaming of the days' in the little cottage, of the fond hopes that inspired her long before she learned, with a broken heart, that some day she would turn, homeless in the world, to go to John. 157 i What Two goyS D^. jjeOU'RE sure you won't be afraid to stay JP alone if we don't get back to-night ?" said ^ Mr. Kent to his two sons, Johnnie and Robert, aged respectively sixteen and four teen, as he helped Mrs. Kent into the lumber wagon, which stood before the door. "Of course not," answered Johnnie, bravely. " I don't see what we should be afraid of, and I 'm sure we are n't cowards, if there is anything to look out for." "No, I know that," answered Mr. Kent, "but two boys like you, though you 're ever so coura geous, would n't stand much of a show with a good, stout man. What I was thinking of was that if they only knew I was gone, whoever stole Johnson's corn might take the opportunity to pay us a visit, and see what they could find. But I guess there ain't any dan ger. Shut up the cows, and see that the chores are done early, and we'll be back to-night, if we possibly can." Mr. Kent clambered into the wagon, and told the oxen to " git up," which they proceeded to do after the slow, cumbrous way peculiar to cattle. " Be sure and tend to the fire," called out Mrs. Kent, as they drove through the "bars" into the road. " I always feel scary about that when I'm gone; boys are so careless." Mr. and Mrs. Kent had started for "mill." "Going to mill" was quite an event in that section of the country in those days. Wheat had to be taken fifteen miles to be ground, and farmers who lived on the frontier, as Mr. Kent did, went only as often as they were obliged to. It generally took two days, as there were no horses, and the roads were bad ; but by getting an early start, and by driving home after dark, the task was sometimes accomplished in a day. Mrs. Kent had not been to town for two years, and as her husband had promised her five bushels of wheat to " trade out," she accompanied him on this expedition to do what seemed to her an ex tensive shopping. Settlers were few and far be tween in those days, in the tract of country where Mr. Kent had located. His nearest neigh bor was some two miles away. This neighbor was the Johnson Mr. Kent had spoken of as hav ing lost some corn. Considerable thieving had been heard of among the settlers, and almost everybody had lost something. As most of them had but little to live on, they had nothing that they could afford to lose, and great excitement was aroused among the pioneers, and everybody was anxious to discover who the thieves were. Johnnie and Rob busied themselves about the house and barn all day. When night came, they attended to the chores, and then began to make their preparations for supper. During the day Johnnie had shot a partridge, and they concluded to roast it. ^mm&WmSaB; 3E ^^^^mm mm Sk n^ns "And we'll have some potatoes and johnny- cake," said Rob, "and that '11 ( be good enough for anybody." Accordingly, they put some potatoes in the ashes of the fire-place and covered them over with hot coals. Then they hung the partridge over the fire, and Johnnie volunteered to keep watch of that, and give it the proper basting which he had heard his mother say roasted fowls always required, if Rob would make the johnny-cake. Rob was willing enough to try his hand at this branch of cookery, but he had some misgivings about his success. However, he went at it, and soon had it baking before the fire in the old tin oven which housewives used in those days. 158 "I tell ycu what, Rob," said Johnnie, as he turned the nicely browning partridge round, "we're going to have a jolly supper. Just smell this partridge, will you ? Ain't it going to be good ?" "I guess 'twill!" answered Rob, whose mouth had been watering for a slice of it for half an hour back. "Ain't it 'most done?" "I guess so," answered Johnnie. "You look at the potatoes, wo n't you ? " Rob scratched away the ashes from the pota toes, and announced that they were done. I ought to have said before that the house was divided into two rooms below. Qne, in front, was a sort of sitting-room, and contained the bed which Mr. and Mrs. Kent occupied, while the boys slept up stairs. Up stairs, also, was Mr. Kent's granary. He had thought it safer to store his wheat and corn in the house. Thieves would be less likely to get to it there without being found out. The second room below was used as a kitchen and dining-room, and it was in this room that the boys were cooking their supper. " There ! " declared Johnnie, at last, " I do b'lieve this bird 's done. You set the table, Rob, and I'll take up the victuals." Just as he said this, the boys started, for they heard steps at the front door. They looked at each other in alarm. Who could their visitors be ? "I'm going to see who it is," said Johnnie, bravely ; " maybe it 's some of Johnson's folks." But their visitors were none "of Johnson's folks," as he discovered on opening the door be tween the two rooms: Two men had come in, and he saw at once that they were strangers. They were rough, brutal looking fellows, and the boys felt that they had anything but pleasant vis itors to deal with. " Where 's your folks ? " demanded the foremost man, as Johnnie looked into the room, "Gone to mill," answered Johnnie. "Why? Do you want to see father ?" "Not much, do we, Elder?" laughed the man who had asked the question. " Wall, not pertickler," answered the one ad dressed as " Elder," with a chuckle. " I 'd like to see some o' that supper I smell, though." "So'd -I," said the other. "See here, you youngsters, when 's your folks comin' back ? " "I don't know," answered Johnnie, from his position in the doorway. "Father said maybe he'd be back to-night, and maybe not." " I guess we Ye safe enough in stayin' to tea," laughed the man. " We 've come to borry some o' that corn you 've stowed away up loft," and here the men chuckled at what they evidently consid ered a highly humorous remark. " Now, while we're gettin' it put up, you just put some o' that meat an' things you 're a-cookin' onto the table, an' we '11 take supper with you. Be spry, 'cause we can 't stay all night, an' we won't have any foolin', you mind that ! " The men went up the ladder leading to the chamber, , and Johnnie N and Rob looked at each other, as if questioning what they should do. " I tell you what. I Wish we had Johnson here," whispered Rob. "Them's the very men that stole his corn, I '11 bet anything." " I wish we could trap 'em some way," said Johnnie, thoughtfully. " Everybody wants 'em took up. Do n't you s'pose we could get 'em into the cellar, Rob ? " " How ? " asked Rob, in an awe-struck tone. " If we take up the ladder, of course they can 't get out if we get 'em down there, can they ? " said Johnnie. "No," answered Rob, "of course not, 'cause it's all stoned up inside, and banked with dirt and logs outside." " Well, now, s'pose" we take up the ladder and put it in the woodshed. Then we can lean the trap door up against the wall and spread this piece of old carpet over the hole, and put some thing heavy on the corners of it, so it 'II look just as if it was spread over a floor. You see this hole where we go down cellar is right square in front of the door they'll have to come in through to eat. Now the minute they step on this car pet, down they'll go, 'cause there ain't anything to hold 'em up, and if we can get 'em down there and shut the trap door over 'em, we 've got 'em sure, and they can't get away." " Yes," answered Rob, somewhat doubtfully, " but what if one of 'em should go down, and the other one didn't ? " " But we 've got to make 'em," said Johnnie ; " you can stand there by the table, pretending you 're at work, and I '11 hide here by the door, and if I see both of 'em ain't a-going down, I'll give 'em a push, and you must pitch in and help me. Will you do it ? " " Of course I will," answered Rob, sturdily, in spite of his misgivings. "We'd better be to work, or they'll be down before we're ready for 'em." They turned the trap-door up against the par tition, then they dragged up the ladder and car- 159 ried it into the wood-shed, then Johnnie laid one or two light, thin strips of pine across the open ing in the floor, and Rob spread the carpet over them. One of their mother's flat-irons on each corner held it out smoothly, so that any one not in the secret would never have supposed that there was no floor under it. "Hark! they're coming!" said Johnnie, tak ing his place behind the door ; " Now, for my sake, Rob, do n't you get scared ; and help me if there 's any trouble. You be there at the table." The men came down the ladder, each one with a bag of corn on his back. "Supper's ready," said Rob, going to the door and standing there until both men were close to him, and one on the heels of the other, to prevent their being far enough apart to make the plan a failure by the hindermost man discovering.the trap his comrade had fallen into before he was into it himself. When they were both On the threshold, Rob stepped one side, and the foremost man put out his foot and supposed he was safe in putting it down. , But when he did so, he discovered his mistake. Down went the carpet and he with it, and his comrade stumbled over him, but clutched at the edges of the opening in such a way that he must have prevented himself from falling into the cellar, where the other had brought up with a terrible thud, and a volley of fearful oaths, if Rob had not seized one of the flat-irons and given him several unmerciful blows about the head, while Johnnie crowded the trap-door down upon him, and threw his whole weight upon it. As he had . nothing to stand upon, and could get no firm hold of anything, he had to let go his clutch and drop after his comrade. The boys dragged the wood- box upon the trap-door, and felt that they had trapped the thieves. " How pale you are ! " said Rob, drawing a long breath. " I did 'nt know I got so excited," answered John nie. "I feel just as weak as a baby, now." "You're sure they can't dig out?" said Rob, as he shuddered at the sound of oaths and curses coming up from the cellar. "Oh yes," answered Johnnie; "you know how many loads of stone we put in the walls, and the logs and dirt outside. They could 'nt get out in a week." The boys had n't much of an appetite for sup per, you may be sure. While they were debating about what it was best to do, they heard a rum ble of wheels at the door, and — "Father's come!" cried Rob, and away both cf them ran. Sure enough, their father had come ! The boys began to tell their adventure in such an excited way that for some time Mr. Kent could n't understand what they were talking about. When he did, he was almost as much excited as they were. " Mercy on us ! We '11 all be killed ! " cried Mrs. Kent, frightened half out of her senses. " I '11 never put foot inside of that house while them men's in that cellar! Dear me ! What did pos sess them boys to do such an awful thing?' I felt just as if something was going to happen ! J know they '11 murder every soul of us before morning ! " But they didn't. Mr. Kent went after Mr. Johnson, and with his assistance the thieves were captured, and taken to the village where Mr. Kent had been to mill. It was found out afterwards, v when they came to trial, that they belonged to a gang of horse thieves, and the corn they had stolen was to feed horses that they had secreted in a swamp not far off. Johnnie and Rob were heroes for a long time after that, and you will hear the story of how they caught the thieves, told in that ' neighborhood now, if you happened to visit it. — Eben E. Rexford. ¦*>-«<*¦— v- All must have heard of the Scotchman who in turn left the session, and the church, and every company of Christians with whom he had associ ated, because they failed to keep up to his stand ard of orthodoxy. On a time the minister asked him if there were no Christians whom he yet es^ teemed orthodox. " None," said he, " but myself and Sandy ; and lately I am growing a little doubtful about Sandy ! " The equal of the above is the following An Edinburgh clergyman found a resident of his par ish who, in reply to questions, answered that he belonged to a certain congregation, but that he and others would not assent to certain views which were accepted by the majority, .and they had therefore formed a secession. " Then you worship with those friends ? " " Well, no ; the fact is, I found there were certain points on which I could " not conform, so I seceded." " Oh, then I suppose you and your wife engage in devotion together at home ? " " Well, not precisely. Our views are not quite in accord, so she worships in that cor ner of the room and I in this." ' 160 WO little sisters, Maud and May, Going to school on a bright spring day ; Two little sun-bonnets shading their eyes( Bright as the stars in the summer skies. Over the fields where the daisies- grow, Lately covered with drifting snow ; Past the cot on the green hillside, Under the shade of the poplars wide ; Over the bridge, where the waters ran ; Past the hut of the "naughty man.'7 Haste, little Maud, aud run, little May ; You must be early at school to-day. Ah-! they arestopping to play, I see, Under the shade of the forest tree. Why ! little Maud, you have lost your book, Watching the fish in the dancing brook 1 See how the minnows' shining eyes Gaze at the book in mute surprise. " Poor little girls ! " they seem to say, " Why did you stop in the grove to play ? "Do you not know that the good Lord sees Two naughty girls 'neath the shady trees ? Haste, little Maud, and run, little May," These are the words that the fishes say. Children. |ES, come little children, With your frolic and your noise, I love your lively prattle, Ye merry girls and boys ! I'll cast my books beside me, And mingle in your glee ; And all life's noisy tumult Will then forgotten be. Ye are my heart's1 bright sunshine, Which chases from my brow The shades of disappointment That gather 'round it now. Man delves in sordid treasure, It holds him in its thralls ; But ye, bright rays of heayen, Make him forget it all. I hear your lisped accents, And catch the struggling words ; Each note is as harmonious As those of warbling birds. Come, let me stroke your tresses I Come, climb upon my knee ! There's room for half-a-dozen, — Come, children, come to me ! Then come, ye happy children I I wait your prattle here ; And, with your soft caresses, My gloomy feelings cheer I I fain would kiss the roses That blossom on your cheeki; 162' They are the1 sweet elixir A wearied spirit seeks. All would fee void of music Without your gladsome noise ; Come, come ye now, and cheer me, Ye laughing girls and boys ! Gentle Word?. gentle word is never lost ; [ Oh, never then refuse one ; It cheers the heart when tempest-tossed, And lulls the cares that bruise one. It scatters sunshine o'er our way, And turns our thorns to roses ; It changes weary night to day, And hope and love discloses. A gentle word is never lost — Thy fallen brother needs it. How easy said ! how small the cost ! With peace and comfort speeds it ! Then drive the shadow from thy cheek^- A smile can well replace it ; Our voice is music when we speak With gentle words to grace it. Keep on Trying! Hf§ is no use of bewailing Wit Our want of success, *^ And all unavailing Our tears of distress. The soul that is cheerful Will struggle through all ; But the heart that is fearful Is fated to fall. Then give over sighing, And cease to complain, But still keep on trying, And trying again ; For courage is ever Half way to the prize, And every endeavor Must fall when hope dies. Do Thy Little, Do thy little — God has made Million leaves for forest shade—: Smallest stars that glory bring. God employeth every thing. Then the little thou hast done — Little battles thou hast won, Little masteries achieved, Little wants with care relieved, , Little words in love expressed, Little wrongs at once confessed, Little favors kindly done, ¦ Little toils thou didst not shun, Little graces meekly worn, Little slights with patience borne—: Those shall crown thy pillowed head, Holy light upon thee shed. Those are treasures that shall rise Far beyond the smiling skies. Warfare in the Ocean. T appears that combats are constantly go-. ing on between members of the animal world, from the smallest insectsj to the largest quadruped upon the land, and from ~ft the little pugnacious stickleback of the raoun- ^ tain stBeams, to the monarchs of the mighty deep. A contest between large animals fills the beholder with a feeling of awe, and no less so is a struggle between the great fishes of the ocean. . The Narwhal. « A Witness of one of these contests says that sword-fish go' in schools like whales, and the attacks are regular sea-fights. "When the two troops meet, as soon as the sword-fish have betrayed their presence by a few bounds in the air, the whales draw together and close up their ranks. The sword-fish always en deavors to take the whale in the flank, either be cause its cruel instinct has revealed to it the defect in the carcass — for there exists near the brachial fins of the whale a spot where wounds are mortal — or because the flank presents a wider surface to its blows. "The sword-fish recoils to secure a greater im petus. If the movement escapes the keen eye of his adversary, the whale is lost, for it receives the blPw of the enemy, and dies almost instantly. But if the whale perceives the sword-fish, at the instant of the rush, by a spdntaneous bound it springs clear of the water its entire length, and falls on 163 its flank with a crash that resounds for many leagues, and whitens the sea with boiling. foam. The gigantic animal has only its tail for defense. It tries to strike its enemy and finish him at a single blow. But if the active sword-fish avoids the fatal tail, the battle becomes more terrible. The aggressor springs from the water in his turn, falls upon the whale and attempts, not to pierce, but to saw it with the teeth that garnish its weapon. The sea is stained with blood ; the fury of the whale is boundless. The sword-fish harasses him on every side, finaljy kills him and then flies to other victories. "Often the sword-fish has not time to avoid the ' tail of the whale, and con tents itself with presenting its sharp saw to the flank of the gigantic animal which is about to crush 'it; it "then dies like Maccabaesus, smothered beneath the weight of the elephant of the ocean. Finally the whale gives a few last bounds in the air, drag ging its assassin in its flight perishing as it kills the mon ster of which it was the victim." The fish in the picture with the formidable looking weapon on his upper jaw is a native of the Arctic seas, and when full grown, is from twenty to thirty feet long. The sword-fish de scribed in this article belongs to a different family than the narwhal, inhabits the waters of the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea, and is from ten to sixteen feet long. " Handsome is that handsome does, — hold up your heads, girls ! " was the language of Primrose in the play when addressing her daughters. The worthy matron was right. What is good-look ing, as Horace Smith remarks, but looking good ? Be good, be womanly, be gentle, — generous in your sympathies, heedful of the well-being of all around you ; and, my word for it, you will not lack kind words of admiration. Loving and pleas ant associates will gather about you. % Hew grood. Well, there is our brown, speckled Biddie. Cluck ! cluck ! Did ever a hen have more magical luck ? See, every white egg that she laid in her nest Has legs, wings, and eyes, and a yellow gold vest. Down there in the nest are some white broken things, Who 'd have thought that those shells held such darling, cute wings ? No wonder brown Biddie is putting on airs ; Those wonderful darlings are every one hers, And where are there chickens with them that can match ? Just hear how she plucks while they 're trying to scratch. Can't you hear Biddie laugh in that jubilant cluck ? Did ever a hen have more magical luck ? There they go peeping round her and right in her way, Like wee babes I saw round a mother one day. And now as she digs out a g'rain or a bug, Slje kicks one chick over. A hen-kiss and hug Makes the place well that hurts. "There, do n't cry, pet," says she, And they 're all just as happy again as can be. And now a gold grasshopper hops o 'er the green ; _ Was a livelier chase ever heard of, or seen ? There flutters brown Biddie. But O deary me ! , What terrible chickens these chickens must be ; For after the chase they are fighting each other, And the grasshopper's gobbled by a sister and brother ! All day," from the earliest gleam of the sun Till his fiery course through the heavens is run, These good, bad, cute chickens are right on the leap, And all day, like the crickets, they chirp and they peep. "But they're good when' they 're sleeping, the dear little things," • Saysbrown Biddie. cuddling them under her wings. Then brown Biddie's eyes close, and open, and close. The care of a riidther only mother heart knows. " But it's very sweet care," says brown Biddie. '¦' Sleep; sleep, My own downy chicks, with your musical peep.' And~under her wings are the live little eggs, But all you can see are the slim, yellow legs. Arn't you glad that brown. Biddie hatched out these bright things, With their soft, downy coats, bright eyes, and cute, wings ? Why ! the whole family 's; glad as they give them rare pick ings. And are proud as can "be of the brood of new chickens. The JJell of Justice. There was a king, long years ago ; His name, historian doth not know. He lived beneath Italian skies, A noble monarch, just and wise. That he might- serve his people well, In a high tower he hung a bell. He who was wronged had but to ring The bell of justice, for the king Was bound to make the humblest prayer , The subject of his royal care. At, first men rung it every day. Rotted at last the rope away, And, growing shorter by degrees, - Swayed lightly to each passing breeze. For many a month it idle hung, No longer needed. No one rung "For justice ; men had learned to fear, And dreaded now the bell to hear. At length a. wandering grape-vine clung Tight to the rope that idle hung, And firmly held it, sweetly grasped, As if one hand another clasped. A starving horse, turned out to die, One summer day was passing by ; And browsing' where the grape-vine hung, The bell of justice loudly, rung. - Straightway a royal herald came, And saw the horse,, half-starved and lame. - He told the king who rung the bell, The monarch answered : " It- is well. The brute for justice doth appeal ; For starving brutes I pity feel. Go seek his owner out for me, And tell him this is our decree : • Long as he lives this horse must fare On oats and grass of his. Beware ! If he again for justice call, My wrath shall on his owner fall." Would God to-day there were a bell ' That brutes could ring, and thereby tell The .story of their cruel wrongs, And win the justice that belongs _ To every creature, great and- small;! For God, their Maker, loveth all. - Egbert L. Bangs. 165 The Christmas Sheaf. The Christmas gbeaf. In the far away lands, at Christmas tide, When the snow falls soft and white, All over the landscape, far and wide, Like a mantle dazzling bright, The good God puts in the hearts of men To provide for his little warblers then. ,-' Within, by the fireside warm and bright, The children laugh and play, And dance in the beautiful fireside light Oa the merry Christmas day ; He writes in his books a recompense, even For the deed that 's done to the birds of heaven. Inquisitive Jumbo. Shall I tell you all about Jumbo ? He was n't a bad dog, but then He acted like some little girls' and boys, / And, yes, like some women and men ; For he stuck his nose into matters, you se< Where his nose was never intended to be. And without the birdies fold the wing, And eat of the Christmas sheaf, and sing. For early on Christmas everywhere, From the gable of, every.roof, A sheaf of oats is upreared in air, And held for the birds aloof ; And the singers who found no crumb to eat, Flock to the gables with praises sweet. In the land oi the North, mid the Alpine snows, This beautiful gift is given ; And all the winter a blessing knows For bestowing the good of heaven ; And God and the angels smile, I know, That the birds find food through the time of snow. And does it impoverish these fair lands To give out the Christmas sheaf ? Ah !no ; for God fills the bountiful hands, And keepeth the kind from grief. One; day his dear little master Went down to the lily pond ; He filled a basket with lilies, And with other things he found. Here Jumbo found it, and in a minute He thought he would see what on earth was in it. He pawed it over and over, Found something, he knew not what, But it pinched him all of a sudden, And poor little Jumbo was caught ; For both of his furry, funny front paws Were tight in the vice of a water-crab's claws. Then how he did howl, till his master Came' running to see his plight ; And he laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks, And declared that it served him right. And have n't you found that you often are caught When you meddle with things that concern you not? , 167 Summer Quarters. JLEEK coat, eyes of fire, jj Four paws that never tire, i That's puss. After ball, reel, or string, Wild as any living thing, That's puss. In the larder, stealing meat, Patter, patter, little feet, That's puss. Climbing tree, and catching bird, Little twitter nevermore heard, That's puss. Winter Quarters. Bound and round, after tail, Fast as any postal mail, That's puss. Black as night, with talons long, Scratching, which is very wrong, That's puss. Curled up, like a ball, On the door-mat in the hall, That's puss. Killing fly, rat, or mouse, As it runs about the house, That's puss. Old Tab White keeps a school for cats, And teaches the sci ence of catching rats, And turns out kittens of such swift skill That they gain a fame for the 'rats they kill ; And they never need ¦ be without a home, Like vagrant- cats that have to roam. But old Tab White has her troubles, you see, For the kits are frightened as they can be; And in spite of her mewing, and scold ing and coaxing, They seem to think that she's only a hoaxing, And will not believe that the row of rats Are- at their wit's end with their fright at the-cats. Well, how will it ever turn out, I wonder ! Will the kittens come down, and the rats go under ? Or will old Tab White have to kill and eat them, And take sll the kit tens home and beat them ? Or will they to-day learn their , trade, these cats, And get their diplo mas for catching rats ? 'The Frightened Rittens. Did ever you see such a school of cats Actually frightened at six small rats ? Quite disgusted is old Tab White, At the ridiculous kittens' fright. "Meow, meow, meow!" she assures them all They need not fear, for the rats are, small. fetter. Better to smile while we live, than frown ; Better to love than to gain renown. Better to comfort some aching heart, Than to do in battle a warrior's part. Better some narrow path to tread, Than a highway ending in shame and dread. 169 FOBS?*6 The Ruined Ne§t. MAMMA, do come here, I beg ! See what some naughty boys have done; They've found the sparrows' nest of eggs, And they have broken every one. And when I to the window ran, At first it frightened them away. But afterward, I came so still It scarcely frightened them a bit : I'd lean across the window-sill, And they would hop right on to it. And when the twigs and moss were laid, I threw them down a lock of hair ; They built right in this shady nook, Close by my window-ledge, you see ; And every morning when I'd look, The father-bird would sing for me. I saw them when they first began To build the nest, one warm, bright day ; See what a pretty stripe it made, Just like a sunbeam lying there. When next I looked into the nest, Five cunning little eggs I found. Here 's one still in it, and the rest, You see, are scattered on the ground. 170 She sat upon them hour by hour, While he sat swinging on a bough. This climbing rose-bush formed her bower, But that is also broken now. I used to feed them from my hand, But now they look with frightened eyes, As if they could not understand ; Just hear, how pitiful their cries ! What sorrow fills each tiny breast ! What terror trembles in each wing ! Who could have spoil'd their pretty nest, And done this cruel, wicked thing ? I know that God will not be pleased To have them rob a ^poor bird's nest, Because he made them, and 1 'in sure That he who made them loves them best. The Bible says that from above He looks, and notes each sparrow's fall; Then if he thus his creatures loves, We should not harm them, great or small. Autumn. The autumn is old ; The sear leaves are fly ing; He hath gathered up gold, . And now he is dying : Old age, begin sighing I The year's in the wane; There is nothing adorn ing; ^; The night has no eve, | And the day has no] morning ; Cold winter gives warn ing. The rivers run chill ; The red sun .is sinking ; And 1 am grown old, And life is fast shrinking ; Here's enow for sad thinking ! — HOOD. K^si W>bo Rre You ? An old owl sat up in a hole in the rock, And a doggie came by and gave him a shock, But which was most frightened, I hardly can tell; For one gave a "bark that was almost a yell, And the other cried out at the doggie's "boo-hoo," "Too-hoo! too-hoo! who, whp; who are you?" I do n't think they stopped long to talk by the way ; For the dog did not think of a thing he could say, And the owl seemed determined that doggie should go, So he took to his heels with his head very low, And went yelling on with a mighty "boo-hoo," While the owl cried out after, "Too-hoo, who are you?' 171 m^ BBPSmK That's Good ! % D*P in the U™oV{. When childhood's scenes before me rise, — At twilight oft they will, — Oi all, my memory, quickest flies To the brook beneath the hill. I see it sparkling on its way Beneath the summer sun ; I hear it singing still its lay — Journey and lay ne'er done. Again I loiter slowly home Beside the rippling brook, Stop at the old-time resting place, All in a quiet nook"; ; And kneeling on the reedy brink, I cool my heated brow — Sweet memories, like summer rain, Come and refresh e'en now. Could I but tread that path again, As once in boyhood's glee, Could I but lave within the brook, And shake its bright drops free, — '¦.. ' If memory can so cool/ my brow, - ' And ease this throbbing pain, 1 A dip beneath its sparkling wave, Would make me young again. \0hat Hext? Dear eyes looking up, would you look me through To -find what my heart has next for you ? 'T is a sermon, dear, and you 've given me the text . From your own sweet lips, and it reads, "What next ?" "What next ? " you gave it with a merry ring ! What will the hours of the future bring ? What the past has brought in your brow unvext I read, " No sorrow, sweet joys ; what next ? " Your glad eyes smile into tender eyes. You know love holds you a ,sweet surprise, And never a moment your heart 's perplexed, You are bold to ask for the unknown " next." But my little darling, there will come years When the "next" is darkness, and sorrow, and tears ; ~ When your hands are weary, your mind perplext, And your heart half afraid to ask, " What next ? " Never fear, dear eyes ; as you look in mine, Look steadfast into the Face Divine. , He has stilled the ocean when tempest vext ; Can calm thy sea, and He knows what 's next. Though the way grows dreary, and shadows gloam, Be sure He is leading toward heaven thy home ; Stretch your hand to Jesus, and all unvext You may leave to His wisdom the beautiful " next." ©ur Pearl. A little babe, With dimples in her cheek, ' Espied the moon ; And straight her hands did seek To grasp the gem, So small and bright it seemed, And all so near Amid the blue it gleamed. A shadow fell Across her fair, sweet face, As though a cloud Had drifted o'er the place Where hung the moon ; Her wee hands faltering fell Down by her side, And o'er her eyes a spell Stole ; awed and still, She watched its stately rise In the deep blue ; Then, in her baby eyes, Turned upward to Her mother, a question rose ; But what she thought Her angel only knows. " Think not the good, Th.3 gentle deeds of mercy thou hast done Shall be forgotten all ; the poor, the prisoner, The fatherless, the friendless, and the widow, Who daily own the bounty of thy hand, Shall cry to heaven, and pull a blessing on thee. 173 gow Good Gnildren Qo to J^ed. Some children go to bed at night With happy hearts and faces bright, Content to lay their playthings by Until the morrow lights the sky ; They smile, although their mamma said, " Come, dears, 'tis time to go to bed, 'Tis time to say good night." With loving, gentle look and way, They kneel at mam ma's lap to pray ; And e'er they close their eyes in sleep, Th ey pray the Father's love to keep, And then with lips pursed up, they kjss Each love one, as they sweetly lisp, ' ' Sweet dreams ; good night." How sweet they look upon the stair ! The candle light up on their hair, As looking back they give once more Their good night greeting as before. ' ' Ah, . what a light they take away ! How we should miss their mirth and play If 'twere the last good night ! " And in the room be low, papa Sits' talking on with dear mamma. How dear they are ! their words so sweet It gives them pleasure to repeat. And what a light they leave upon Their loved ones' hearts when day is gone, With such a fond good night ! And by and by mamma steals nigh, With shaded candle, where they lie, And kisses soft their little hands, While near her papa comes and stands ; "God keep them safe and pure and white For many and many a morning's light ! " "Amen," they say, "good night." 174 gow naughty Gbildren Qo to &ed. There were three little children of whom 'twas said That they never were ready to go to bed. "Why, we are not chickens -to close our eyes As soon as the sun goes down the skies. Old, folks stay up, and I 've heard them say That children in bed were out of the way. It 's a cruel thing," cried Master John, And all the children agreed thereon. Now tell me truly, truly, true, Are these little children at all like you ? Do you grieve mamma, and tease her so, And fade your cheeks and spoil your eyes, And store for your future a world of woe, And sorrow, and discontent, and sighs ? For, dear little children, I've heard it said That early to rise and early to bed Would make a man healthy and wealthy and wise, Insure him long life and a pair of good eyes. .So that very same night, when their mamma said, "It's time that my children were all in bed," John grumbled and growled, "That 's just the way, A fellow never can finish his play." , "O, dear ! I 've just fitted a dress for dolly, And I'm not the least sleepy or tired," cried Polly. And little Phil echoed, " To bed so early ! " And shook his head till the ringlets curly , Bobbed over his brow in a golden glory. " No, mamma, please tell me a 'tory About a puss wif boots on her feet, And dive me sugar and bread to eat." "Very well, my children," the mamma said, "You may all stay up, don't go to bed. John, .have your play out, and you, Miss Polly, Complete the dress you 've begun for dolly ; Here's bread for Phil, and I'll tell you the story Of the life of puss in the allegory." But Phil's head drooped with its weight of gold E'er half of the tale of the puss was told, And Polly opened her mouth to yawn At half-past-nine, likewise did John. So mamma kissed them and went away And woke them in time for school next day. John pouted and snarled, and Polly cried, And the breakfast didn't taste good beside. ' And brave little Phil got grievous hurts, And cried and fretted at mamma's skirts. Said John, " The teacher was dreadfully cross ; The boys were rude at pitch and toss ; The lessons were hard, and O dear me, I don't see why I was born," said he. Said Polly, ' ' I -made my best friend mad, And this is the very worst day I've had In all my life." And mamma said, "You went an hour too early to bed ; Stay up till the rose from your cheek has fled, — Till your eyes are dim in your aching head." And Polly and John looked up in surprise And saw there were tears in their mamma's eyes. The {^onest Old ^oad. Oh, a queer little chap is the honest old toad, A funny old fellow is he ; Living under the stone by the side of the road, 'Neath the shade of the old willow tree. He is dressed all in brown from his toe to his crown, Save his vest, that is silvery v/hite. He takes a long nap in the heat of the day, And walks in the cool, dewy night. v "Yaup, yaup," says the frog, From his home in the bog, But the toad, he says never a word ; ' He tries to be good, like the children who should Be seen, but never be heard. When winter draws near, Mr. Toad goes to bed, And he sleeps just as sound as a top ; But when May blossoms follow the soft April showers, He comes out with a skip, jump, and hop. He changes his dress only once, I confess, Every spring ; and his old, worn-out coat, With trousers and waistcoat, he rolls in a ball, And stuffs the'whole thing down his throat. " K-rruk, k-rruk," says the frog, From his home in the bog, But the toad he says never a word ; He tries to be good, like|the children who should Be seen, but never be heard* His legs they are long, and he leaps when he walks, Outstepping us all at a bound ; He wears both his eyes on the top of his head, — Queer place for one's eyes to be found. You may think him a fright, and of course you are right, But his ugliness I would defend ; For he dines on the bugs that destroy the sweet flowers. He 's the gardener's assistant and friend. "Yaup, yaup," says the frog, From his home in the bog, But the toad, he says never a word ; He tries to be good, like the children who should Be seen, but never be heard. 175 ucb fun ! Five little pussy cats, Brim full of fun, Hiding in the tall grass, Playing in the sun. Found the parlor door open, Fine summer day, No one in sight, so they Had their own sweet way. Everywhere they scampered, Peering in the nooks, Jumping on the table, Tumbling over books. Having just a fine time, Till Bridget, come to sweep, Hustled all the cats out In a little heap. 176 - 188 Jhe J3lock (etter. IT is a prevalent idea that talent of a special order is required to do free-hand lettering. It certainly requires aptitude, application, and practice tp become an expert at it, but any pne who has learned to write a passably leg ible hand, and will follow the directions given in these pages, devoting an hour each day to practice, may in a week or two be able to do plain letter ing, which would be of valuable service to a per son engaged in almost any business. A beginner will do best to practice on a black board, but this not being at hand, a- lead pencil and paper will answer. A fair quality of Manilla wrapping paper is excellent for this purpose, and is, easily obtained. The Egyptian, or block letter, is of all letters the most .used in advertisments, — signs, play-bills, hand bills, bulletin-boards, etc., — not only on account of its , simplicity, and beauty, but because of the ease with which it may be read. Where it is used, " they Twho run may read." It is also the easiest letter to make, and when its principles are once mas tered, Will give one a wide range of both plain and ornamental lettering, as well as making it easy to learn all other styles of letters. The hlock letter unmodified has all of its lines of a uniform thickness, and is devoid of any curves. The letter £ is a good example. The modified block letter allows great variation as to form, and can be contracted or extended laterally or perpendicularly according to the space it is desired to fill, as E [ 31 [ £n ciE£l When, however, there is enough room, and the space does not require a " spread," the medium block letter should be used, as it is the true type of block letter, and the most perfect in proportions. The hight of the letter being determined, it is divided into five equal parts, which represent five spaces ; therefore we may say all letters are five spaces high. A fifth of the hight of the letter, or the width of one space, gives the proper width of the face line of the letter. Having determined the required length of letter, the beginner should lay off his spaces on the black-board or paper, with a ruler or chalk-line. If the letters are to be five inches high, draw six horizontal parallel lines, with a space of one inch between them. The hight of the letters is thus divided into five spaces, the top and bottom lines making the top and bottom boundaries of the letters to be made. The width, or, thickness, of the face line of the letters should be one-fifth the hight of the letters, which is in this case one inch. The width of letters is not uniform, as is their hight. We have wide, narrow, and- intermediate letters. The broadest letters in the alphabet are |y| and W \ They are full width or square letters, the width and hight being equal. On the other hand, | is the narrowest letter, being only one fifth as wide as it is high : hence we call it a one- fifth letter. The balance of the alphabet we class together for convenience as three-fifth letters, the width being three-fifths of the hight. J and \_ however, are a little less than three-fifths in width, while A g K, anc* R, are somewhat wider, as correctly represented in the diagrams. We will now take up each letter separately, and form it according to the principles already given. is a little over three-fifths in width. Its perpendicular center being de termined, its face lines are easily made. Its horizontal face line is formed in the space next to the bottom. Some sign writers put a little lower than this. it is three-fifths in width, its lower half being a little larger than the upper, in order to make it a well- balanced letter. Notice the an gles, and take care to make them as in the example here given. is a three-fifths letter, and easily made. It represents the letter 0 with a section taken out at one side. Make the lower half a little larger than the upper, so, that it will balance well. is a three-fifths letter, its first third being made of the letter jj and the balance of two-thirds of the letter Q, is a three-fifths letter. To the perpendicular • face line | are added three horizontal face lines running to the left, the lowest one reaching to the end of the - third perpendicular space, the upper one a little short of this, and the middle one not quite across the second space. is a scant three-fifths, and is formed like F with the bottom horizontal face line left off. is made the same as Q with the addition of a horizontal spur to the last part of the lower half. is a three-fifths letter, and is form ed by the use of the letter | in the first and third perpendicular spaces, connected by a face line running between on the middle horizontal space. is a one-fifth letter. It should be made a trifle wider at the bottom than at the top. is scarely three-fifths in width, wkh its crook turned to the left. is a little more than three-fifths in width. It is formed from the letter | the upper oblique face line joining it a little below the mid dle. The lower oblique face line is less slanting than the upper one, which it joins at the middle perpendicular space. is scant three-fifths in width. It is formed like the letter | with a hori zontal face line, running to the right in the bottom space. is a square letter, being five-fifths wide. It is formed by the use of the letter | in the first and last perpendicular spaces, joined at the top by the oblique face lines shaped like a V, Be careful in forming the point where the oblique lines come together at the bottom of the letter. < It is a common fault to get this angle too broad, or obtuse. is three-fifths in width, and is formed by the use of the letier | in the first and third perpendicu lar spaces, the two being joined by the one oblique face line, as shown in the illustration. The lower triangular space must be a little larger than the upper, so that the letter may look balanced. is a three-fifths letter, and is formed on the boundaries of the space allotted to it, with the corners cut off, as illustrated. Take care t» have its base a little heavier than its top. P is a three-fifths letter of easy outline, formed like upper part of letter gi is formed like Q and at its lower right hand corner is attached a stem, giving it its character, and making it almost a four-fifths letter- is a three-fifths letter. It is formed from the letter p with a stem ap pended, as shown. 190