veritable prince among hills. It was at one time called Rainier, after a
British lord, but the Indian name has generally prevailed.

Tacoma has been described by many tourists as a rival to the most
vaunted peaks of the Swiss Alps. As will be seen from the illustrations,
which are remarkably good ones, there is a dim mistiness about the
mountain. When the light is poor, there is a peculiar, almost unnatural,
look about the cloud-topped peak. When the clouds are very white, the
line of demarcation becomes faint in the extreme, and it is very hard to
distinguish one from the other. Sometimes, for days together, the
mountain is literally cloud-capped, and its peak hidden from view. Those
who are fortunate enough to be able to appreciate the awful and unique
in history, never tire of gazing upon Tacoma. They are glad to inspect
it from every side. Some call it a whited sepulchre. There was a time
when it was anything but the calm, peaceful eminence of to-day. Every
indication points to the fact that it was once among the most active
volcanoes in existence.

There is a town, or rather city, of the same name as the mountain. This
is situated on Commencement Bay. It is under the very shadow of the
great mountain of which we have spoken, and which seems to guard it
against foes from inland. Fifteen years ago it was a mere village, of
scarcely any importance. It has rapidly grown into a town of great
importance. In 1873 the Northern Pacific Railroad Company decided to
make it the western terminus of their important system. This resulted in
renewed life, or rather in a genuine birth to the place, which now has a
population of 40,000 people, and is an exceedingly wealthy and
prosperous city. The Tacoma Land Company, ably seconded by the railroad,
has fostered enterprise in this place in the most hearty manner, and now
some of the large buildings of the town, of the very existence of which