Mining is an important pursuit, rugged brows smile with independent richness. Moss-bearded ledges of the precious metal run into the heart of the Cascades. The Index districts teem with mineral wealth, and Lake Chelan shines with doubtless yields. Iron ore rests in the bosom of the Sound country from the green feet of old Rainier to the dashing waves of the Pacific. As you cross the divide for Eastern Washington, you find paying veins running in different directions. Coal is a natural consequence, which in no manner puzzles the minds of geologists. From days of yore luxuriant vegetation has robed plains and valleys to impenetrable density. The death of rich forests has built beds of astonishing thickness, and the formation of coal has resulted to a marked degree. [Illustration: A MINER AT HIS CABIN.] Agriculture and horticulture invite attention. The rolling prairies between the Rocky and the Cascades are especially adapted for the raising of cereals. Wheat yields from 50 to 75 bushels per acre, oats from 100 to 125, rye from 60 to 80. Irrigation has been practiced with wonderful success around Wenatchee. The feasibility of applying nature itself is remarkable. Here and there meander silvery streams of clear water, which are made to spread over fertile tracts of land at any time, and to any part wanted. No longing for showers to quench and sweeten the thirsty soil bothers the farmer in this section. Irrigation is so easily practiced, and the crops thus raised are so enormous, may it be grain or fruit, that the eastern agriculturist cannot conceive our natural advantages. Why linger on the hungry prairies of the east, freezing your lives out, when opportunities like these are extended to you? Here you can get a pleasant home, for a small trifle, where the air is mild and soothing, where the soil is rich and easily cultivated. The Sound country is equally productive. Ay, inexhaustible. The Washington fruit is known the world over for quality and quantity. Magnificent orchards adorn every farm, and the smaller ranches, too, enjoy the presence of wealthy apple, pear and plum trees. When you throw your eye upon Puget Sound, and behold the fleet of fish barges, rolling upon her briny breast, a reminiscence of the coast of Norway steals into your soul. Cohorts of men, mostly Scandinavians, resort to the waves for subsistence. Herring and salmon throng the water in rich abundance. Shoals of the latter race along the shores, fighting their way up streams to spawn. Some become savory prey for bears, cougars and wolves, others die a respectable death, or return to their natural abode--the ocean. The halibut plays master among the smaller species, and grows fat at their diminution. He cares nothing for streams or shallow bays, but gambols friskily amidst the salty billows. [Illustration: MINING SCENES ON THE GREAT NORTHERN, NEAR INDEX, WASHINGTON.]