--Advancement of the
West.--The towns of Wabasha and Reed's Landing.--Lake Pepin and Maiden's
Rock.--Romantic story.--An old fort.--Lake City and Frontenac.--Red Wing
and Hastings.--Red Rock.

The first landing in Minnesota, going up the river, is made at

BROWNSVILLE,

a very small village, nestled close in under the hillside, and
overshadowed by the high bluffs which seem to threaten its existence,
and would quite exterminate it should land-slides ever become possible
with these silicious limestone battlements. Beyond being an outlet for
surplus products of the back country, it has no importance and no
attractions. The traveller is now one hundred and thirty miles above
Dubuque, one of the points of embarkation for those from the East who
visit the State by the way of the river. If the sail is made by daylight
between these places, most suggestive impressions are made on the mind
of the immense area of Iowa; for, while constantly expecting soon to
catch a glimpse of "Dakota Land," you are all day baffled by the
presence of this intervening State, which, somehow, seems determined to
travel with you up the river, and, by its many attractions, woo you to
residence and rest.

The fertile fields of Wisconsin, on the other hand, do not seem at all
obtrusive, since you expect them on your right soon after leaving
Dunleith; and, when the city of

LA CROSSE

comes in view, its bright aspect of industrial life, its busy streets,
spacious warehouses, fine shops, and thronging commerce, challenge our
love of the good and beautiful in civilized life. Indeed, this handsome
and prosperous city is one of the most pleasant and interesting places
which attract the traveller's attention along the two thousand miles of
this navigable river.

Many, in coming to the "Northwest" by the way of Chicago, travel as far
as La Crosse by rail, where abundant opportunities are had for steam
transportation to St. Paul, and all intervening towns.

The islands have now so multiplied that here, and for some distance
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
fairi