monotony of repose, however, for, though at rest, the cowboy keeps watchful eye. His sombrero shields his face from the sun, as he looks out across the plains to where his herd is grazing. Perhaps he watches lest the silhouette of an Indian should move across the distant sky. His pistol is ready at his side, but in this hour of repose he has no need of it. The lariat hangs from the pommel of his saddle, but the strong arm which can wield it so well is relaxed and inert.
"The Blizzard" tells with picturesque strength the story of the lone prospector and his pony caught in the fury of a fierce storm. One can feel the sharp onset of the gale as it twists the horse's mane and blows the grizzled beard of the prospector in wavering strands. Crouched in the shelter of the pony, the man has thrown down his pick and the other implements of his work, giving his whole power of re- sistance to the wrath of the storm. The stress and intensity of this figure will be sure to strike a chord of remembrance in the breast of many an old prospector who will visit the Exposition during the summer.
The "Indian Buffalo Dance," while it can scarcely be called artistic in idea, is virile and striking. Four Indians, in various degrees of frenzy, are celebrating the buffalo dance. One stands upright, firm and strong, poised on one foot ready to swing into the next step. At his left, executing a wild fandango, is a second brave bedecked with the hide of a slaugh- tered bufi^alo. Behind, one is fiercely beating a tom tom. At the right crouches a fourth. Tlie faces of the Indians are interesting studies. The red man of the wilds is there in all his untamed savagery before yet the pale face has invaded his domain.
No less eminent a critic than Lorado Taft, of Chicago, has said of Mr. Borg- lum: "His work is only begun, but it gives promise of a new and virile inter- pretation of the magnificent 'Epic of the West'; of an art of national flavor, yet distinctly individual, which will be en- joyed long after the cowboys have fol- lowed the wild red men over the 'long trail' into the dim land of legend and song."
The statues of Captains Meriwether Lewis and William Clark, which stand at either end of the balustrade at the top of
MISS ALICE COOPER. The sculptor of the statue
of Sacajawea, the Indian girl who acted as
guide to Lewis and Clark one hundred
years ago.
the Grand Stairway, near the Sacajawea statue, are full of historic interest.
Captain Lewis, who was called one of the handsomest men of his time, is de- picted tall, lithe, intrepid and fearless. His right hand grasps the flintlock mus- ket, his trusty companion; his left is extended, palm downwards, as if some new cause for wonderment or admiration had been discovered. Or it may be a gesture of paciflcation. Two knapsacks he car- ries, one perhaps for the papers and field glasses that were so necessary a part of his equipment. A sword swings at his side and a powder horn hangs with the knapsack from his shoulder.
Captain Clark is garbed in leathern coat and leggings which are fastened with leathern strings and ornamented with heavy leather fringe. A look of liigh, calm resolve shines from his face, and the equable temper of a lawgiver — such a look as one might expect on the face of the man who for years in later life, from the Council Hall in St. Louis, dispensed justice to tribes of Indians throughout all the West.
The statue of Captain Lewis was mod- eled by Charles Lopez, a Mexican by birth, but a pupil of the American sculp- tor J. L. A. Ward and subsequ
