CROW BUTTE AND SIGNAL ROCK, DAWES COUNTY, NEB.—Crow Butte is a titanic elevation of stone, nearly 200 feet in height and several hundred yards in circumference, located about five miles south of the town of Crawford, in Nebraska. The walls are vertical on all sides except one, where there is a winding way by which a horseman may reach the top. The summit is a natural fortress, where a few well-armed and determined men could hold thousands at bay. A very interesting Indian legend connected with this rock-fortress is related in GLIMPSES OF AMERICA, the story no doubt having a good foundation in historical fact. ] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Illustration: SKYLIGHT CAVE, DELLS OF THE WISCONSIN.] The sight-seer turns with feelings of disappointment at the artificial appearance of St. Anthony’s Falls, and seeking the wonders of nature unadorned, drives over to Minnehaha’s sylvan solitudes, but upon which, alas, the encroachments of sacrilegious improvements characteristic of city extension are now apparent. But the voice of its falling waters is still attuned to the rhythm of the poet that sang it into fame. Down through flower-sprinkled meadows purls and gambols a silver stream, slaking the thirst of the linnet and bathing the feet of the dove, until weary of the sunshine it spreads itself over a ledge like a veil of gossamer and drops into the cool shades that welcome its embraces. The Falls of Minnehaha are an example of that coy and quiet comportment which sometimes blushes into notoriety, for no one with less imagery than a poet would discover the sublimity of its aspect, or the artfulness of its graces. It is to Longfellow, therefore, that we owe the immortality with which these laughing waters are invested, and the imperishable fame of Hiawatha, who, while in quest of better weapons [Illustration: CLIFF NEAR MOUTH OF WITCHES’ GULCH.] “Paused to purchase heads of arrows Of the ancient Arrow-maker, In the land of the Dacotahs, Where the Falls of Minnehaha Flash and gleam among the oak-trees, Laugh and leap into the valley. There the ancient Arrow-maker Made his arrow-heads of sandstone, Arrow-heads of chalcedony, Arrow-heads of flint and jasper, Smoothed and sharpened at the edges, Hard and polished, keen and costly.” [Illustration: HAWK’S BILL, DELLS OF THE WISCONSIN.]