rs
not mountainous, came to high words, and during their altercation broke
the bridge down; falling into the river, this colossal Rialto became a
dam, and ever since that day the upper river has been backed to its
present level, submerging vast tracts of country far above its original
bed.

I notice that excellent geological authorities are willing to treat this
legend respectfully, as containing in symbols the probable key to the
natural phenomena. Whether the original course of the Columbia at this
place was through a narrow _canyon_ or under an actual roof of rock, the
adjacent material has been at no very remote date toppled into it to
make the cataract and alter the bed to its present level. Both Hood and
St. Helen's are volcanic cones. The latter has been seen to smoke within
the last twelve years. It is not unlikely that during the last few
centuries some intestine disturbance may have occurred along the axis
between the two, sufficient to account for the precipitation of that
mass of rock which now forms the dam. That we cannot refer the cataclysm
to a very ancient date seems to be argued by the state of preservation
in which we still find the stumps of the celebrated "submerged forest,"
extending a long distance up the river above the Falls.

At the foot of the cataract we landed from the steamer on the Washington
side of the river, and found a railroad-train waiting to do our portage.
It was a strange feeling, that of whirling along by steam where so few
years before the Indian and the trader had toiled through the virgin
forest, bending under the weight of their canoes. And this is one of the
characteristic surprises of American scenery everywhere. You cannot
isolate yourself from the national civilization. In a Swiss _chalet_ you
may escape from all memories of Geneva; among the Grampians you find an
entirely different set of ideas from those of Edinburgh: but the same
enterprise which makes itself felt in New York and Boston starts up for
your astonishment out of all the fastnesses of the continent. Virgin
Nature wooes our civilization to wed her, and no obstacles can conquer
the American fascination. In our journey through the wildest parts of
this country, we were perpetually finding patent washing-machines among
the _chaparral_,--canned fruit in the desert,--Voigtlander's
field-glasses on the snow-peak,--lemon-soda in the _canyon_,--men who
were sure a railroad would be run by their cabin within ten yea