Here we see the broad, treeless plains stretching away in the distance, earth and sky blending, like the sailor’s morning welcome in the calm of mid-ocean. Yonder the rolling approaches to the foothills, green with grasses and decked with flowers of a thousand hues. There the foothills themselves, the bodyguards and picket sentinels of the great ranges, ever on duty as the trusted soldier on the tented field. These supports to the great backbone of the continent are as varied in their conformation and consistency as are the comprehensions of the human mind. One is the perfection of symmetry, when viewed from any quarter, its sides smooth and inviting from base to apex; another, rock piled upon rock, craggy projections here, cavernous depths there, walls perpendicular and walls hanging over; stones smoother by the action of the elements on their surfaces, or shaped into all manner of grotesque forms by these same elements, as their composition is uniform or conglomerate in character. Then come the mountains, the giants in nature, rearing their proud heads far into the etherial blue, and from their vantage ground wearing a smile that reaches out and gladdens the earth in its lower fields; the dew drops from the mountains, gathered there while the storm king reigned, are the joy, the life of the plains below. Raised from the lower depths by the strong pulsations of nature, these mountain ranges cross the state from south to north, with diverging spurs to the east and west, forming a network of mountains, slopes, valleys and plains. On yonder peak rests the snows of centuries, a robe of whiteness, unspotted by the changing rays of the sun, unsullied by the tornado’s sweep, and secure from the cyclonic embrace of electric combinations. Down the sides of this cloud-piercing pile the pine tree grows in sturdy thrift, and from the shady nooks spring babbling brooks that dance and sing their way to the Platte and the Yellowstone, whence they wander on to lose their identity in tropical seas. The placid beauty of the plains, the enchanting, soul-inspiring and matchless grandeur of the Platte canyon, the sublimity of Yellowstone Park, the playground of the gods, afford a variety of scenery so entrancing that the mind is satisfied and the soul is filled to overflowing.