Like many other places in this vast region, the site of Milwaukee owes its discovery to one of the band of French missionaries, who, with devotion and courage never surpassed even by the chivalrous explorers who cast such a glory over the flag of France for nearly two centuries, made their way amongst hostile Indians, carrying the Cross in their hands, through forest, prairie, and mountain, descended rivers and navigated lakes, in the futile attempt to civilise and Christianise the Red Man. The Indians used the indent in the shore where Milwaukee stands as the centre of their permanent settlements. They were established there when the first traders came, and La Framboise, who left some record of his adventures amongst them, began his intercourse in the way which has signalised the early relations of the white to the red man but too often. Nevertheless, the whites and Indians got on exceedingly well for many years. The former were French, or French half-breeds. The French generally agree better with the natives than the British and British-Americans. In 1820, however, a man named Juneau was the only white settler, and it was not till 1831 that he obtained a grant from the Indians of the whole of the ground on which Milwaukee now stands. Two gentlemen named Kilbourn and Walker (names perpetuated in the city) settled and established commercial relations with the people and traders of the outlying regions. As an American writer says,--"The town, which has sprung up like Jonah's gourd, grew up partly on a sand-hill and partly in a mud-hole, one being cut down to fill the other up, because men found they could accumulate wealth there." Chicago, down south, had started in formidable competition, but Milwaukee was not to be beaten. It built its quays and store-houses, and projects its piers and jetties, harbour of refuge and docks. You look round and find it hard to believe that not half a century ago the site of this city was described as "an utter wilderness, a howling, untutored, worthless stretch of forest and prairie." Elevators tower aloft; the marsh has been drained, and is now a maze of canals and slips. The buildings in the city are in strong contrast, in the air of propriety and exquisite cleanliness, to the river on which it is built. This appears much due to the material--a light-coloured brick--largely used in the houses. There is a coquetry in the local architecture. The genius of the American architect in woodwork is varied. It deals in pinnacles, gables, verandahs, porticoes, eaves, and quaintly coloured fronts; and where the proprietor has not indulged in brick or stone, he has availed himself of paint, generally blue or slate colour, to decorate the exterior. The number of detached residences, standing in their own grounds amidst garden-plots and plantations, suggests wealth and comfort. The trees of the forest have been spared, and if the axe has been applied it has been wielded with judgment.