above, the river seems more an archipelago than anything else. Islands
of all sizes and shapes, wooded and embowered with a great variety of
shrubs and vines, so that in springtime they seem like emeralds set in
this "flashing silver sea;" and when summer is ended, and the frost-king
has come, they are robed in royal splendor--in crimson and purple and
gold--seeming to be the fanciful and marvellous homes of strangest
fairies, who, during this season of enchantment hold, it is said, at
midnight, high carnival on the islands of this upper and beautiful
river. Be that as it may, they certainly add to the attractions of a
sail along this "Father of Waters," and give picturesqueness to the
landscape which, before seeing, we had not credited with so much of
interest and beauty as we found it to possess.

A couple of hours' additional steaming brings us to the lofty peaks
standing on the left of the river, one of which, from the resemblance of
its crest to the crown of England, has given rise to the names of
Victoria and Albert. They are over five hundred feet in height, and
believed to be the tallest of any of the cliffs along the river. Beyond,
on the right, stands boldly the lone sentinel of Mountain Island, at the
base of which is the small village of Trempeleau, where a moment's halt
is made, and the wheels of the great ship splash through the water
again, all tremulous with nervous energy and pent-up power as they bend
slowly to their slavish labor; and, the only labor that man has any
right to make a slave of is that with iron arms and metallic lungs. He
may compel these to work and groan and sweat at every pore with honor to
himself and the added respect of all mankind.

A few miles further and the city of