The narrow gorge, the sawtooth, the great rock 

 islands and the dizzying depths that nature has thrown 

 in his path enough to completely discourage a milder 

 stream but excite him to wilder hilarity. He tosses 

 whole trees about those jagged rocks like splinters. It 

 seems as though all old Neptune's famous " hoary 

 locks" had been shorn for the nonce and given to this 

 crazy old river. Down, down he goes, leap after leap, 

 mile after mile, leaving his old shore lines great tower- 

 ing cliffs on either side. 



The traveler who ventures into that narrow gorge is 

 bewildered by the mighty roar of the dashing flood. 

 Thousands of Minnesotans travel far to other lands to 

 see a less impressive sight, and know not what they 

 have at home. 



Nor is all this beauty hard to see. An old railroad 

 embankment furnishes the basis for a first-class road. 

 The cuts and fills made years ago have lost their ugly 

 lines. Age has blotted out the last traces of construc- 

 tion, and the mossy banks running down to the very 

 borders of the driveway make it appear like a natural 

 valley, placed for some peculiar unknown purpose on a 

 steep side hill. The sound of the automobile is drowned 

 in the savage roar of the river, and the traveler floats 

 uncannily through that fairyland. 



Hardwoods studded with spruce and pine, a maze of 

 color when the autumn artist has gotten in his work, 

 open up into vistas on either side, now showing the 

 raging river far below, and now a quiet fern-carpeted 

 dell right near at hand. Elysian little trails invite you 

 into this enchanted wood as though to lead you to some 

 fairy trysting place, only to surprise you with a sud- 



6 



