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The Hood River Glacier, Hood River, OR., September 26, 1902, page 4

NATURE ON MEMALOOSE ISLAND
Max McClay in Portland Telegram

Memaloose island has been the center of attraction for many years on account of being the burial ground of the Indian dead for centuries whose numbers we do not know, but it has a demand upon the scientist and scholar by reason of certain natural conditions that can truly be called wonderful. Small in size, it is great in interest, for probably no spot in the world within the area of scarcely five acres can present so many natural wonders of this; no place can man see such curious and varied conditions as here.
The surface of the island is indeed strange and rare. Here is a sandy beach of but few feet in length, there a little cove where row boats may anchor in safety from the rushing waters on every side, and above all of this towers in a precipitous wall of jagged rocks, so high and steep that man cannot surmount them. Nature seemed to have placed it in there as a barrier between the landing place and the sacred burial ground upon its summit. Over on the Washington side of this wall a narrow defile leads to the top like a stairway cut out from the solid rock. It is the only approach to the height above, and is known as the "Silent Pass," for up this natural stairway the Indian dead were carried to their final resting place. Nature has done a curious piece of work in chiseling out this narrow pass and carpeting it with strands of fine white sand. The whole island shows the wonderful works of nature, but the most wonderful work of all is the little body of water at the base of the cliff, called Lake Lanora.
To the casual observer it presents nothing strange and wonderful. The water, clear as crystal and cool at all times, looks the same as the wild, tumbling water of the Columbia only a few feet away, but standing on the narrow bank of rock that separates it from the river, one will almost deny his vision. The lake is higher than the river. When the water is high in the river it washes over the rocky walls of the lake and fills it to overflowing, but as the water precedes no longer fills the rocky pool, and then the wonder begins. While the river becomes lower, the lake remains the same. Just so high, so cool and clear. In July the water in the lake stands six or seven feet above the water in the river, and at the dry season it is from 15 to 20 feet higher. Those who are frequent visitors to the island say that the water never varies in height, and George Chamberlain of Mosier, who knows the island as well as he knows his plum orchard, stands as authority and sponsor for this curious fact. He has visited the island in all seasons, and says that he has been there when the lake water was surely 20 feet above the water of the river. The shores of the lake are solid rock, as though nature had placed it there to be the wonder of man for ages, and one side of the wall is but a few inches wide, and looks as though at any moment it might give away and the little lake break with its entire force into the river blow.
Soundings have been made, and at places the water is many hundreds of feet deep. At the Washington side there is a narrow beach of sand, making it a miniature reproduction of the great lakes that are the wonder of man on account of their size. Lake Lanora is less than a hundred feet long and fifty feet wide, but what it lacks in size it easily makes up in interest. What causes this no one can tell. How it happens that this little body of water, surrounded on all sides by the river, remains the same height during the year round, but with no apparent inlet or outlet, is a study for science. That its waters are not from the river, which flows but a few feet away, is without question, but whence does it supply comes? It shows what wonders nature can work, and of them all Lake Lanora is the greatest, for where can one stand upon a narrow wall of rock and see on one side the waters less than a foot beneath his feet, and peaceful as a summer day; while on the other side, many feet below, the angry waters lash a rocky shore?
On the west end of the island is another curious work of nature. It is a well of perhaps 15 feet in depth, cut out of the solid rock. Its top is perfectly round and nearly six feet across, while its bottom breaks through the side of the cliff by an oblong opening that is about three feet long and two feet high. During the low water it is simply a shaft in the solid rock that presents but little interest, except in the wonder of its construction, but when the water is high and beats in angry billows against the cliff, the water enters at the bottom of the well and plays in fantastic ways upon the sides. Now rolling up like the water in the gauge of a steam engine, now breaking in beautiful sprays on every projection, and leaping up over the sides as though impatient at its narrow bounds. In the sunlight is a well of sparkling diamonds, kissing back the sunbeams in varied radiations. When the waters are the lowest sand creeps in and fills the mouth and invades the playground of the waters; but each summer the river rises and the dashing billows wash the sand away, sometimes throwing it up through te top of the well and spreading it on the bleak rocks around.
On the west side the island spreads out as though to greet the passenger in its rough, rocky arms as he sail up the river. On each side the headland tapers off to a narrow point. At the north point the incessant breaking of the waters has worn a tunnel through the narrow promontory. At low water the opening is visible, and looks like the yawning mouth of a great monster, and the billows played hide and seek along its rough sides. The opening is about 10 feet high and 20 feet wide, and is rather arched in shape. It extends through the point for a distance of about 50 feet, coming out on the Washington side. At low water a boat can pass through here and come out into the sunlight making an inspiring ride through a tunnel made by nature's wonder-working hands.
The tunnel is straight, and about the same height and width for the entire distance. That the constant wash of water and tireless work has worn this pass through the solid rock is a pleasing realization of what incessant work will do. Although it has taken centuries to accomplish the task, the waters laugh and dance as though at play, now that their work is done. Cool? Yes, no work can be cooler or sweeter, when the sun is burning hot on the rock above, than resting the oars in the passage and breathing the spray-laden air that sweeps through in ceaseless motion. Gloomy? Why, no; the place is so pleasant that one forgets the gruesome sights above his head and sits for hours in happy thought that nature has done all this during sunshine and rain; working it when days are long and weary, and the hot sun drives man from his toil. The cool wind refresh his him and reluctantly he guides the boat out into the hot sun and beyond.
But the wonders do not cease. After leading the tunnel at the west opening, one can moor the boat on a sandy reef and sees just ahead of him another opening not quite as high, but nearly as wide. This is the opening to the cave that runs in an arched direction from a point on the west side of the cliff to the other side of this promontory. This, too, is the result of an incessant play of water, but presents a pleasing contrast to the tunnel less than 300 feet away. Its opening is triangular in shape, and rough and jagged, not like the clear masonry work at the opening of the tunnel.
For a distance the cave goes straight into the solid rock, then it takes a turn to the left and comes out on the other side with an opening much smaller than the other, leaving a height of about two feet and a width of four. It traverses a distance of over fifty feet, going almost under the granite shaft erected to the memory of Vic Trevitt. The fine white sands have been washed in to make a floor as soft and pleasant as one could want. The sun never penetrates into the cave, but leaves the sand refreshingly cool and a boon to the hot, weary traveler. Where else can one have a tunnel ride amid cool breezes and dancing waters, and then lie down to rest upon the cool sand in a rocky cave, but a few feet away?
The island itself in high water is a bold, ragged rock standing out of the water, dividing the mighty channel into two almost equal channels, but at the low season it stretches out in broad sandbars and its rocky height stands like the ruins of an ancient castle. The sand is light and the wind is constantly shifting it from place to place. One day the relics of the almost extinct tribes of red men are seen glistening in the sun, while the next day they are buried in heaps of sand. On the east end is a drift of sand, where it has fallen down over the precipitous side, into which one will sink; being a contrast, yet a reminder of the snow drifts of the cold northern climes.
On the Oregon shore, high up on the side of the rough mountain, is a natural curiosity which is associated with the island in name only. It is Memaloose Castle. It is an exact likeness to a ruined castle, and four towers still climb into the air as though trying to lift their heads above the background of green in mute observation by those who pass. At the base of these towers are heaps of broken rock resembling the crumbled walls of a once-pretentious edifice. The resemblance is complete, and of all places where nature has tried to reproduce the destructible works of man in bold contrast to her own a indestructible productions, this is the most striking. What wonders cannot nature build?