[Illustration: BELEAGUERED CASTLE, CAMP DOUGLAS, WISCONSIN.—The scenery about Camp Douglas is weird, sublime and curious. There are formations of odd and fantastic shapes, like the conjurings of a disordered brain, while others lift their rugged sides and castellated peaks into the air with all the grandeur and picturesqueness of “castles on the Rhine.” To this latter class belongs “Beleaguered Castle,” so boldly photographed on this page. Its resemblance to the ruins of some ancient fortification is so striking as to arouse the wonder and admiration of all beholders. The trees that have planted their roots in its sides and along the top of its mimic battlements serve to heighten the resemblance, so that one standing in its presence can hardly divest himself of the belief that he is really viewing the walls of some frowning relic of the warlike past. ] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Illustration: CAVE OF THE DARK WATERS, LAKE SUPERIOR.] It is a positive relief from the oppression which entrance to the Dark Waters Cave produces to be hailed, after emerging, by a sturdy little stone island with a tossing crest of pine, which some Sweet William has named the “Sugar-Bowl.” It is all the more refreshing because islands in the river are exceedingly scarce, and this diversity of landscape is accordingly doubly appreciated. Still further beyond is the “Mouth of Witches’ Gulch,” commanded by picturesque cliffs that show the teeth-marks and lacerations of the gnawing waters. So romantic is the spot, and so inviting the little saucer-shaped beach of white sand, that all the pleasure-boats that ply in the Dells make a landing here and give their passengers opportunity to go on shore and carve their names on the terraced walls. So many persons had been there before us, however, that barely space was found to write a pencil autograph. Another stop is made at “Cold Water Cañon,” usually dry, but through which the river pours in an impetuous torrent during high water. Hereabout are also glens and other curious excavations, among which is a hollow formation seventy feet high and fifty broad, called the “Devil’s Jug.” Another run of less than a mile brings us to “Steamboat Rock,” an oval island covered with hemlock and mountain cedars, opposite to which a third landing is made, and ascending three flights of stairs to gain the summit of the cliffs, across a stretch of woods, and descending a steep, rocky ledge, we find ourselves at the superlative wonder of the Dells—Witches’ Gulch. Abruptly arriving at the entrance of the gulch, above which 189 feet, in a projecting rock, may be seen the wry, unmistakable features of a tousled old hag, the queen of the witches, so ominously frowning on forms and faces below. Without the slightest exaggeration it certainly is one of the most wonderful, weird and peculiar places on this continent.