THE BLUFFS OF GREEN RIVER, UTAH.—If the traveler should come suddenly in front of the towering bluff to the right, with its striped and pillared front, it would require no great stretch of the imagination for him to conclude that he was sailing up the ancient Nile and viewing the ruins of Thebes or some other of the great cities that flourished with life and commerce many centuries ago, but now sit in solemn silence contemplating the glory of the dead past. This scene is a very striking one, and the splendid photograph does it full justice. It stands on the printed page just as nature made it, solemn, grand and silent. There is something really sphinxlike in the wrinkled front of the large bluff in the foreground.
MOYEA FALLS, IDAHO.
“Not quite so massive is the picture as is Niagara, but it has more lights and shades and loveliness, as though a hand more divinely skilled had mixed the tints, and with more delicate art had transfixed them upon that picture suspended there in its rugged and somber frame. As one watches, it is not difficult to fancy that, away back in the immemorial and unrecorded past, the angel of love bewailed the fact that mortals were to be given existence in a spot so forbidding, a spot that, apparently, was never to be warmed with God’s smile, which was never to make a sign through which God’s mercy was to be discerned; that then omnipotence was touched, that with His hand He smote the hills and started the great river in its flow; that with His finger He traced out the channel across the corpse of that other river that had been fire, mingled the sunbeams with the raging waters, and made it possible in that fire-blasted frame of scoria to swing a picture which should be, first to the red man and later to the pale races, a certain sign of the existence, the power, and the unapproachable splendor of Jehovah.
“And as the red man, through the centuries, watched the spectacle, comprehending nothing except that an infinite voice was smiting his ears, and insufferable glories were blazing before his eyes; so, through the centuries to come, the pale races will stand upon the shuddering shore and watch, experiencing a mighty impulse to put off the sandals from their feet, under an overmastering consciousness that the spot on which they are standing is holy ground.
