Norman remained a while to look at a large raft which his mother had called him to see. There were twenty men upon it; some of them with red shirts, and another wrapping a white blanket around him. There was a shed where one man was cooking the dinner, and a board table in front for their meals. A gentleman said that a raft of that size was worth about seven thousand dollars. There were a number of rafts floating by this western shore. One misses the white sails of the Hudson on the Mississippi, where rafts, and steamboats, and an occasional sail-boat, are the only craft on its waters. There were ravines running up among the hills, and near the shore were layers of white stone piled regularly as if laid in mortar. Castellated bluffs peeped out from the encircling verdure, and low islands, covered with willows, were emerging from the recent floods. From behind one of these the steamer Northern Light appeared, her bright golden star on a back ground of green. After dinner the aspect of things brightened. The clouds rolled away, and the clear blue sky appeared in its soft beauty. The eastern now became the most interesting side; noble bluffs were seen far above the lofty oaks and maples, like some ancient towers, the strongholds of the former lords of the soil. The town of Guttenbay is on a table land at the foot of one of these bluffs, and beyond it a range of rounded hills, softly rising above wooded islands. “O look!” said Helen Lisle, “at that beautiful rainbow in the spray.” It was no fleeting vision, but all the afternoon the radiant bow, with its hues of blended brightness, afforded them a beautiful object for contemplation. “See those trees,” cried Norman; “they look as if they were running a race down hill.” In crossing from the east to the west side they passed an island shaped like a bowl, the center filled with water, and a broad green brim. M’Gregor’s landing is a small busy town of one long street, there being no place for another in the narrow ravine. The street was filled with wagons, and many passengers landed to go out on the rich prairies of Iowa, to which this ravine leads. There is a noble view of the broad river and its wooded islands, in crossing to _Prairie du Chien_ on the east side. Norman was amused at seeing three dogs on this prairie, the first he had seen on the shores of the river. The town derives its name from a family of Fox Indians, who formerly lived there, and were known by the name of Dogs. The fort, though now deserted, looked very finely with its white walls, and its pleasant site, commanding the far reaches of the Mississippi, and the prairie opening into the interior. [Illustration: No. 666. PRAIRIE DU CHIEN.] “Keokuk used to live here, Norman; do you remember the story you were reading about him?”