I d f-) ..~~~~~~~~~~~~. MP% I ] 'g It i 4 .F i c,.. BLYOND THE WEST; CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF TWO YEARS' TRAVEL TN TILAT OTHER HALF OF OLR GIRAT CONTIENT!A BEYOND THE OLD AVEST, ON THE PLAINS, IN ttE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, AND PIC'rUR ESQUE PARKS OF COLORADO. ALSO, CARACTERISTIC FPA:TURES OF NEW MEX'ICO, ARIZONA, WYO MING, MONTANA, IDAHO, EASTERN AND WESTERN ORF GON, UTAH, NEVADA, AND T.IE SUNSEP LANX% CALIFORNIA T.'[lE EN[) OF TIE WEST. ITS PREEENT CON)ITION, PEOPLt,!iESOURC,3, SOIL, CLIMATE, MOU,NTAIN RANGES, VALLEYS, DESERTS, MORMONS, GREAT SALT LAKE, A.ND OlTI!ER INtLAND WATERS, TE GREA,T CONTINENTAL RAILROAD, qt~Rt WITTH TIIE RMX.KAkBLE MI.-NitAL DEPOSITS, AND MOST WONDER ~t'" NATURAL. CENERY IN THE WORLD, BOTH "TE.RTAINING AND INSTRUCTIVE. B3Y GEORGE W. PINE. FO URTI iEDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED. BUFAA O,, V.l PUBLiSHED AN4D PkRINTED B YBAA-ER, yOANES - CO. 220 & 222 WASHINGT'ON STREE'RT. I873. I i i i i i i i r I { [ .-4. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by GEORGE W. PINE, In the oMce of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. i i PREFACE. Twenty odd years ago, little was known of that somewhat mysterious part of our continent, lying far beyond our ideas of the Old West, except as the far-off land of the Indian, the hunter and trapper, the furs and the home of the buffalo. One great blank bookmostly without a preface-with a few scratches, here and there only, on the title page: But how diligently and understandingly the types were made, set up and electrotyped, within a few years past. We see the now unabridged edition, bound in a style more useful than ornamental, (not yet gilt edged,) but nicely sprinkled and held together with the great civilizeriron rails. As all the families of men have an interest in the occupation and development of this, now our New West, everybody wants a volume of this-Nature's remarkable edition. To supply a demand which now exists for cheap, comprehensive and reliable information, with regard to that other half of our great continent, lying beyond the Old West, this work has been prepared and is. now placed before the reading community. In the spring of I865, the author found himself on the west bank of the Missouri River, at Atchinson, seated in an -6 overland stage for the Pacific. I-Havlng made exten sire travels in various parts of the country during the season, he took the steamer from San Francisco to Panama, and from Central America to New York. A year and a half of home life, in thle picturesque and historic Valley of the Mohawk, had served only to increase a desire to revisit these vast and interesti'ng regions; so full of geographical and historical information; so replete with scenes of wonder and beauty; sublime, yet ugly; magnificent, yet rough; beautiful, yet mean; which can be found in no other country-somewhat of the kind the Grecian poets gave a local habitation on the northern coast of Africa, as peculiarly the unknown land of mysteries. "Here they placed the delightful gardens of Hesperides, whose trees bore apples of pure gold; there dwelt the terrible Gorgon, whose snaky tresses turned all things into stone; there the invincible Hercules wrestled and overthrew the mighty Antaeus; there the weary Atlas supported the ponderous arch of Heaven on.his stalwart shoulders." This poetical effusion, unbridled as it is, has a counterpart in many places through this other part of our country. The many peculiarly interesting objects, its wonderful formations; its mysteries, scattered everywhere on the surface, and also imbedded in the granite hills, furnish abundant material to interest the c(urious, and to demand cf the intelligent traveler, I i I i I I - PREFACE. and the most scientific, the profoundest knowledge and remain mysteries still. Also, Nature's great banking systems, in the deep recesses of the mountain ranges, where the precious metals are deposited quite past finding out by human intelligence. Indeed, very much of the country is yet Nature's wide-spread blank book, to be filled up by future generations. With all our facilities of travel and general information, it must be a long tinme before our people can have an adequate conception of these vast regions of our goodly heritage. No traveler's pen can properly describe many of the objects presented here. The reader can have at most but the best efforts of an honest purpose. Again: In the early spring of 1867, we crossed the muddy Missouri at Omaha, and viewed with renewed pleasure the great, shining face of the setting sun, as it went down behind the Rocky Mountains. The steamship of the desert was now ready to start on the world's highway- the change was an agreeable one, after my previous experience-but the road was finished only two hundred and fifty miles at the end of which the old stage was ready to impress upon our mind and body more firmly the hard experience ot time gone by. I had seen just enough of this other half of our remarkable continent, to increase a desire to largely extend my travels and become more acquainted with the general clharacteristic features of the couintry. i i i 7 I i I PREFACE. The substance of the knowledge thus acquired dur ing these travels, is now offered to the reader-in as condensed a form as the limits of this book permitted hoping that you will be interested in its contents, and your knowledge of the country enlarged; if so, the object of the author will have been accomplished, and his years of travel and deprivation, away from civilization much of the time, will have been amply rewarded. We have not designed to make a connected travel, to fill up valuable space with the multiplicity of little domestic matters, which are constantly occurring while journeying in the oriental way, as those have done who have written their travels over this country. We haye purposed to give substance, rather than lengthy descriptions; to abbreviate sufficiently to make a book that would come within the means of all who wish to read. Not, however, unconscious of inability to do justice to such an undertaking, I leave the work to secure the favor which earnest endeavor ever receives from a discriminating public. HERKIMER, August, i870. i i i i I I V-i AUTHOR. PAGe PORTRAIT OF AuTHOR,........ ronti SUMMIT TUNEL SIERRAS,..... 849 OMAHA, 4................ 40 MONTGOMERY CITY AND MOUNT LNCOLN,... 8 BUFFALO HUNT,.,..... 186 BEAVER SPRINGIrNG A TRAP,..........168 INDIAN MEDICIM IAE,...,... 268 BEAR TAKnG MEAT FROM UNDER TIE HEAD OF TEM HUNTER,......., ~..,280 BRIGHEAM YOUNG,.............810 MORMON TAERNACL,............ 822 LAKE TAHOE,..............882 SACRAMENTO,..... 888 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. MAMMOTH TREE, 83 FT. DIAMETER AND 450 FT. HIG 3 FOOT OF T YO. SEMITE,.-..0 Yo SEMITE FALLS,........... GEYSER' SPRINGS HOTEL,'. WITCH'S CALDRON,. ~.... CRYSTAL CHAPEL,..... THE PULPIT,....... SEA LIONS AND THEIR YOUNG UPON A LARGE ROCK TVI ENTRANCE OF SAN FRANCISCO BAY,. PELICAN ISLAND, OPPOSITE GOLDEN GATE,. i I i I il i 1 I i i I i i viii 899 409 413 420 422 442 448 . 468 .Finis. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS,.......... CHAPTER II. THE DISCOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENTo,. CHAPTER III. LTS FIRST SETTLEMENT,......... CHAPTER IV. WHERE IS THE WEST?.......... CHAPTER V. riE NORTH-WEST PASSAGE DISCOVERED,... CHAPTER VI. OMAHA AND NEBRASKA,.......... CHAPTER VII. THE PLAINS,............ CHAPTER VIII. DENVER CITY,............. CHAPTER IX. THE MOUNTAIN RANGES,.......... CHAPTER X. 4SOOT OF PIIm'S PEAK,........ CHAPTER XI. rE ROAD TO SOUTH PARK,...... PAGB 13 16 38 44 48 49 51 56 58 00 77 x CONTENTS. CHAPTER XII. MOUNT LINCOLN.............. 85 CHAPTER XIII. THE MIDDLE PARK,.........90 CHAPTER XIV. TIfE NORTH PARK......... 97 CHAPTER XV. COLORADO'S MINING RESOURCES,... 101 CHAPTER XVI. AGRICULTURAL RESOURCES OF COLORADO,.,. 111 CHAPTER XVII. CLIMATE OF COLORADO,....... 116 CHAPTER XVIII. NEW MEXICO GENERALLY........119 CHAPTER XIX. TE B UFFALOES,..... 10 CHAPTER XX. ARIZONA BOUNDARIES, EARLY HISTORY, PHYSICAL L.dPECT, AGRICULTURAL AND MINERAL RESOURCES,..149 CHAPTER XXI. TRAPPING BEAVER,............ 167 CHAPTER XXII. FROM DENVER TO CHEYENNE,......... 17; CHAPTER XXII1. WYOMING TERRITORY-HER LEGISLATURE TiE FIRST TO EXTEND TO WOMAN THE ELECTIVE F'RANCHISe,. 179 CHAPTER XXIV. MONTANA, AGRICULTURAL AND MINING RESOURCES, HISTO RY AND CLIMATE,.......... 188 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXV. IDAHO, SHOSHOiNEE FALLS, BOISE CITY, IDAHO CITY, OWY IIBEE QUARTZ MILLS, AND CHARACTERISTIC FEATURES OF THE COUNTRY,............ 201 CHAPTER XXVI. EESTERN OREGON, SOIL, CL_MATE, RESOURCES AND ERAL FEATURES... CHAPTER XXVII. WEStrERN OREGON, PORTLAND, WALLAMET RIVER AND VAL LEY, ITS UNUSUAL PEODUCTIVENESS, HEAVY FORESTS, EXTENSIVE FSHEIRIES, CLIMATE, SCENERY, COLUMBIA RIVER................. 224 CHAPTER XXVIII. THE LOUISIANA PURCHASE1, CHAPTER XXIX. INDgAN TRIBES, CHARACTER AND HABITS,. CHAPTER XXX. INDIANS MAKE A RAID ON THE ROAD, A WEEK AT ELKHORN STATION, THE HUNTER AND TRAPPER, INCIDENTS IN HIS LIFE,.......... 271 CHAPTER XXXI. THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE, CHURCH BUTE, UP AND OVER THE WILDERNESS OF MOUNTAIN RANGES, UPON THE SUMMIT, DOWN THE PACIFIC SLOPE, REMARKABLE ROCK FORMATIONS, ECHO CANYON, WEBER VALLEY, MORMON SETTLEMENTS,.......290 CHAPTER XXXII. TEE UNION PACIFIC COMPANY, EARLY HISTORY, CONSTRUC TION AND COMPLETION,... CHAPTER XXXIII. THE CENTRAL PACIFIC COMPANY, ORIGIN AND CONSTRUC TION,.......... i . 211 . 251 . 256 . 341 847 xii C()NTENTS. CHAPTER XXXIV. CONNECTING TEE TWO ROADS......... 8351 CHAPTER XXXV. NEVADA, MINES AND MINING, AGRICULTURAL PRODUCTS AND PHYSICAL ASPECTS,........... 353 CHAPTER XXXVI. JOURNEY TO THE HOT SPRINGS, ROAD TO SALT MARSH, AND A MOUNTAIN OF SALT,...........375 CHAPTER XXXVII. SIERRA NEVADA IMOUNTAINS, LAKE TAHOE, DONNER LAKE, SUFFERING OF EMIGRANTS, SACRAMENTO,...382 CHAPTER XXXVIII. FLOWERS,.............................390 CHAPTER XXXIX. MAMMOTH TREE GROVE,. -.,......896 CHAPTER XL. YOSOMITE VALLEY,..............407 CHAPTER XLI. A VISIT TO THE GEYSERS,........... 419 CHAPTER XLTI. THE QUICKSILVER MINE, THE LARGEST IN THE WORLD,.424 CHAPTER XLIII BIRI)'S-EYE VIEW OF CALIFORNIA,... 448 I I BEYOND THE WNVEST. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY. eader, we introduce you to our new book, n ou will be sufficiently interested to read it and not fall out along the way, out of sleep of temper, before the journey is accom Although some of its pages may seem unng, yet the varied and important subjects d to the traveler all over the great plains a tain ranges of the western half of our new tiuch as to command the careful investiga11 our people. Much of the country iv so lly made up, composed of such a variety ial, and the native tribes which inhabit it so mysterious, that it is impossible for the pen to put upon paper such descriptions as tile careful reader an adequate knowledge of of our contineit, which is destined to be a a iid very important place oln the now glorie of this c,)ullItry. If by writing this book i I i I I I I I s -*-**GOP i I. I 11 ous utiir 1. I . BEYOND THE WEST. the information of the reader has been enlarged-. stimulated to more fully understand and appreciate this goodly heritage of ours, the primary object cf the writer will have been accomplished, and his long mountain wanderings, away from civilization, will not have been to no purpose, but amply rewarded. This may, with some propriety, be called the traveling era, and it is interchanges of individual acquirements which make up and characterize, to some extent, this present age. With the present increased facilities for travel, everybody, together with his wife and family, are acquiring traveled knowledge. Indeed, if all travelers do not write a big book, it is not for want of interesting material out of which to make it, or the lack of ability, (at least in their own estimation,) but on account of an over load of more pressing businessa want of time. Those who have time and money may visit whatever country and places they may wish to see, but they are very few when compared with the whole. Most people have their traveled information brought to them in their own homes while performing their various vocations, for a small consideration they have at command the traveler's accumulated knowledge which perhaps he has spent years of hardship, deprivation and peril to acquire While it is desirable that all our people should in 14 INTRODUCTORY. form themselves, make a familiar acquaintance witht the Old World, yet how much more important that all should become, somewhat at least, familiar with their own native Republican land first. There are very many who travel for years in foreign climes who have never seen any part of the great western half of the American continent. All such of our readers are cordially invited to take our humble conveyance and go with us by rail, by wagon occasionally, by pack horse and mule, and many times by packing ourselves; as some portions of the road is inaccessible to any four-footed animal, it can be attained only by the persevering traveler on foot. Many of the most remarkable places would be missed if not made in this way, where the natural elements long centuries ago have done their wonderful work -beautiful, yet rough; magnificent, yet ugly; and as a writer said of Moscow, "Magnificent, yet mean" a I 115 CHAP TER II. THE DISCOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. Kind reader, as our outfit (always familiar on the borders of civilization, beyond which the traveler must carry everything he needs on the journey) as yet is so incomplete, and being far away from an outfitting centre, we are quite unprepared to start on the long travel before us, consequently you are invited first to go with me through an address on the Discovery of the American Continent; after which, should we be in good humor with each other and ourself, we will give our friends and relatives a long farewell for the next year and a half and begin our travel beyond the old West and where the new begins, and journey towards the setting sun to where that great luminary seems to retire for the night-far out iu the Pacific Ocean. Our theme includes a most prominent period in human affairs-is full and rich with interesting useful thought. The discovery of America and the circumstances with which it is surrounded may be considered one of the most extraordinary events in the annals of the world. As memory binds together time's different peri I I I I i II I I I I I)ISCOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CON'TINENT. ods, we stop to linger around this most wonderful of histories. Strange, indeed, that this great conti nent should have lain undiscovered for so many cen turies, but the mass of malnkind had made but little improvement over the darkness of the middle ages. The navigators of those times felt themselves safe only as they crept along the frequented coast. But to turn their little insecure vessels boldly to the West-to embark upon an unkntown ocean,i not be lieved to have an outer shlore, to pass that bourne from wh'ch no traveler had ever returned, and fromn which experience had not taught that any mariiner could return-was beyond their feeble comprehensions; but the fullness of time had come. The Empires of the first and oldest portions of the human famni]ly must flourish and fall before the great seals of creation are broken. They must show what they could do for the amelioration of the human race, before Providence unlocks the great mystery of His mysterious creation. A noble man, who can go out boldly and with con fidence, on untrodden, unknown regions, either on sea or land, is like the great luminary when compared to a small planet. The magnanimous Ruler of the Universe seems to bind up great events in the lives of some men. Those individuals who stratify the space of time i i 17 - -~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ BEYt)i s,' t Yt Wi-:. between the beginning and end of mortal llfe the fullest, with the very best material for working days, and furnishes the parlors in their bosoms with that kind of furniture which has not gone out of fashion for the last eighteen hundred years-not like some in these more favored times, who send their cards to church whilst they remain at homeare the property of time, and their names, of right,, outight to be engraven on the record of every age and in every clime-living members of the world's best order of nobility. LTe is a strong man, with a vigorous brain, that can pull out as a telescope its intellectual powers and lift the uncertain thick, dark vail which hides distance and see the end. Hie is truly a great man who can look through the age in which he lives, make excursions into the unknown future and hunt up the distant hiding places of creation. Providence seems to have hbld thlis great heritage of America for a new home, upon which to establish more securely than had been done in the Old World the ennobling and underlying principles of a highet civilization, where the different races of mankind could have a home, and worship him according to the dictates of an enlightened judgment, freed from eastern human restraints. Send off the mind, that great mystery of our being, over the solid, much I i i z is DISCOVEIY OF TI[E AMERICAN CONTINENT trodden Appian way, intto the regions of the past and bring a sympathizing spirit back to view to go with us to discover our then unknown land. Discovery is the peculiar subject of our hero —the chosen theater of his intellectual dominion. A great soul has arrived on earth, fashioned after a model none but an Almighty hand could make, whose life is to change the old channel of the hluman race. Nature mysteriously brintigs upon the theater of the world at times mysterious men to accomplish some of her great purposes. Sometimines a great soul seems to come forth like an exhalation from the interior of the earth. Columbus educated himself for his business, this made })imi strong and decided in his opinions. Formidable difficulties beset him from the first, such aS 1}0 other man could have overcome at that time. His far-reaching purpose looked through the twilight of his day and imparted to his acts a perseverance that no obstacles could impede, a true man whom no prosperity could intoxicate, no disappointment discourage-having a large supply of the indispensable article called energy divine; a boldness of determination that never hesitated when the judgment was decided; a deep love for Christianity; an incorruptible integrity; a love for faithful duty that never grew cold. Columbus had impressed on his mind the real image of a new 19 BEYOND THE WEST. country in the West. No old nurse or son of Escu lapius was skillful enough to keep the image asleep in such a lodging place. This gate purpose to life, his mind had long flowed and made a deep channel in this direction. The marvelous tenacity with which he clung to the object he had set in his heart is without a parallel, and will go down through the long tracks of time. No obstacles can stop a lofty plurpose, or outward darkness quench the light of a great, a noble soul, undismayed by difficulties, unchanged by change of fortune. Although everything grew dark and discouraging around him, he slhowed the same unaltered purpose. His penetrating vision. ranged through the whole horizon of possibilities to seek a gleam of hope beyond the (daltrk clouds about him, to illumine his desires. Though everything grew dark and darker around him, he showed the same unaltered purpose. He had established in his own mind some of the now settled principles of astronomy that the earth is a globe, capable of being circumnavigated. This fruitful truth revealed itself to the intelligence of Colurrmbus as a practical fact-an original idea with him-ffor it had not, at that time, been incorporated into the general intelligence of the age in which he lived-an illustrious example of the connection of s(cientific theory with great practical results. He i I I I 20 DISCOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. inferred the existence of a continent in the Western Hemisphere, by considering the necessity of a counterbalance to the land in the Eastern. Hlis reflection and knowledge enabled him to dis cover the constructive principle, that the All-Wise Maker of this, our globe, had properly balanced it. You see the necessity-a wise omnipotent arrangement by the great master-mind-that there must be an equilibrium for the purpose of revolving. We have here intellect scientifically trained into system; not the dreams of a brain put into action by ever-shifting, half-formed thought. The impressed image knocked constantly at the door of enlightened reason to be let loose and discover the New World. After the great discoverer matured his plan he never spoke in doubt, but with as much certaintty as if his eyes had beheld his darling object. Like a firm rock that in mid-ocean braves the war of whirlwinds and the dash of waves, he read, as lie supposed, his contemplated discovery, as foretold in holy writ: that the ends of the( earth were to be linked together, and that the magnificent work of Providence, through the mystic tissue of the universe, would in time interweave all the human family with the thread of universal Christianity, and wrap up the nations in its broad folds. Consequently we find him supplicating, in tones of humiliation, the i I i 21 BEYOND THE WEFT. different thrones of Europe; traveling on foot, having all his worldly goods with him; despised by the pretended philosophers, laughed at by the ignorant, and trifled with by the arrogance of ministers and their dependents. But he was independent, at the same time dependent; never compromised himself or his principles a right with a wrong. Perhaps he lived at that distant period in sight of independence, as near the Fourth of July as many in these more favored times. Ultimately he obtained an interview with the Court of Spain, who favored his plans enough to call together the most of the scientific professors, that he might have an opportunity to lay his plans before them. At this time Spain was at the summit of her greatness, and had her greatest men. When explaining his plans of discovery to the philosophers, and that the earth is a revolving globe, which might be traveled round from east to west, "Why!" said they, "what a mystical theory, contradicted by every step we take upon the broad, flat earth which we daily tread beneath our feet." To them it was visionary, a vast nothingness. They came together with doubt in both hands-could not travel out of their old stratified beliefs. To assert that there were inhabitable lands on the other side of the globe, would be to maintain that i i i 22 DISCOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. there were people not descended from Adam, as it was impossible for them to have passed the intervening ocean. Some of his learned hearers were convinced by his powerful reasoning, and all were warmed by his eloquence, but opposed his plan and object, and his long cherished enterprise swung far back into the co)d regions of unbelief and unpopularity. The great truth rejected, lay discouraged at their feet, believing, as they did, that the old rusty lantern of the past in their hands threw light on all the distant corners of creation. Nevertheless, the great fact had a living home in the capacious mind of Columbus-the home growth of his own intellectclothed with warm and living thought. He picked lp and put together his oft broken hopes, and gathered up again his energies for another effort. "Where ignorance is bliss,'tis folly to be wise." Consequently we find him supplicating the different thrones of Europe, at a time when kings considei ed themselves the wisest of mortals upon earth. Eight een years of weary negotiation had failed to procure for Columbus the sanction and aid of a government, -eighteen years of despairing solicitations and weary with long journeyings. Amid all his trying circumstances he never consented to compromise his superior manliness, or accept of any terms not I I i i i 23 BEYOND THE WEST. strictly honorable to himself, and worthy of his magnanimous purpose. Hlis wonderful perseverance under such opposing circumstances during those long and gloomy years, will descend in the undying archives of time. Finally, the penetrating vision and magnanimity of Queen Isabella resolved to favor the undertaking, and requested that Columbus might be sent to her. Yet she hesitated, knowing that her husband, who would be "Lord and Master," opposed the enterprise, and that the royal treasury was nearly drained by long and expensive war. But with true woman's earnestness of purpose and grandeur (,f soul, she said: " I undertake the enterprise for my owni (crown, regardless of an opposing husband or anything else, and will p)le(lge my jewvels to raise the necessary funds." Hle who will oppose "Woman's Rights" (whenl right) hathi no soil in his heart for the growth of just antd liberal principles. Let us take through tic ekets-not to cross the Continent-but the great ulikuown ocean spread out by God arouiid the globe, not to separate, but to unite the Hluman Fiamily, beiiig the only means of intercourse between regions so distant. We go beyond the then known limits of thie world to discover and make known to the Old World the New. Leaving behind our agreeable homes, with all their happy surroundings, our ex f I I I ii 24 DISCOVERY OF TIHE AMERICAN CONTINENT. panded ard expansive country, homes of healthful millions-the growth of Columbus' genius-we see the master spirit foreshadowing the mighty enterprise, carefully and systematically arranging his business, preparing his little fleet to "quit the still shore for the troubled wave," and brave the perils of unknown seas. All arrangemenits completed, three small caravels, or fishing boats, a hundred and twenty men, we behold the great leader, the grayhaired sire, with eye intent, and on the visioned future bent, go forth on his towering ambition, the compass his only pilot, the constellated heavens liis only chart, to realize that magnificent conception in which his creative mind had planted the germs of a New World; passing rapidly from the then crowded hive of the Old World, like a meteor, to the wonder-stricken gaze of man, now broken away from the limits of the Old World and launched into the untrodden regions of the mysterious ocean and the unknown future-the polar star his watch tower, and the crystal eyes of heaven to guide him. IHe trai-veled away from the then dull mass of mankind on the strong vehicle of a well-balanced, penetrating intellect towards that undiscovered country (as all supposed) fr,)m which no traveler returns. Leaving fanmily, fi'iends, country, all the home-rooted ties that hover in the humIan l,eart, behind-every thing be 25 e BEYOND THE WEST. fore him chaos, mystery aid peril-onward and on ward he measured off the long and weary road over the bosom of the heretofore trackless waters, with that perseverance that knew nothinrg short of the .accomiplishment of his grand object, with a crew long before discouraged, and threatening to send him Jonah-ward if he would not return. Others could see no morning beyond the night that enveloped them, while he rose higher as others sank in despair, moving serener the greater the agitation became around him, exhibiting a reserved power equal to any emergency. The vivid remembrance of his sacred promise, of long years of exposure and hardship, began to travel through his brain like sharp lightning through the heavens. Many a daylight dawned and darkened; others stood far down in the cold waters of unbelief; all seemed wrecked on the chilly banks of trouble, while he turned his aching eyes to the West to catch a parting kiss of the setting sin. The dark clouds, as of a long arctic night, seemed to settle down upon his long cherished enterprise. All his fond anticipations now seemed soon to be wrecked on the chilly banks of utter disappointment. Everything was inside the circle of a few hours, (for he had agreed to return if land was not discovered within a given time.) Hiis before warm hopes ran cold and 26 DISCOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CONTINEN,NT. gathered at his heart. The streams of life within him gave signs of woe-that all was lost. Loudly blew contending tempests on his devoted head great troubles at hand and none to help. All seem(ed lost and far away from their native land. "Return," return," went over the then wilderness of waters. Columbus' lengthened shadow over the boundless waters moved beneath the silvery-curtained clouds, lost and left in loneliness, deep waters and difficulties thick all around, each moment big with trouble. He rode on contention and directed the storm when hope had turned to despair in every heart but his. But his great undertaking shall be finally accomplished because written on mid-face of heaven, where all the world might see it. There are occasions in which a great soul lives years of wrapt enjoyment in a moment. His great soul then caught the treasure it through life had sought. His darling object was fixed in the capacious recesses of his mind. That eye, that life which had long lived in the unknown West to the Old World, saw a far off moving light. As the hands on the immutable clock in the ethereal dome marked the long hours of that never-to-be-forgotten night, when the Old World first saw the New, moved slowly on time's face to hlim. First of all we behold the great discoverer of Amer I I i I I i 27 BEYOND THiE WEST. ica standing on his storm-shattered bark, the shades of night having fallen on the sea-vet no man sleeping. The dashing billows of alternate hope and despair rolled through and convulsed his own troubled bosom. Extending forward his weatherbeaten form, straining westward his anxious eyes until Hleaven at last granted him a momenft of rapturous delight, and seemed again to fill the world with new delight-with joy and gladness in blessing his vision with the sight of the before unknown world. The great elemental mystery of a New World was settled. Land swelling up from the great ocean, clothed in the habilimients of nature's richest beauty; glorious morning sunshine playing in the green tops of trees; spring abroad among the branches; homes for happy life sitting in the distant valleysof perpetual green; a beautiful island, as if direct from nature's great mirror and dressing room, magnificent and beautiful, fuill of tropical fruit, like a continental orchard. Upon landing Columbus threw himself upon his knees, kissed our common mother earth, returned thanks to God, followed by all his companions, ardent in their expressions of repentance and admiration. Then and there the first Christian bent the knee to thank the Sovereign Ruler and Maker of the universe for the extension of the earth. He then N I 28 DISCOVERY OF'THE AMEtRICAN CONTINENT. struck a chord that vibrated anew around the innermost heart of the Old World, and pulsated for the first time around the earth-held up the mirror which shows every-soul its own face. That morning, like the morning of creation, stood forth an additional world as to mankind, in the presence of her family, the twin sister of the Eastern Continent, as sisters of one house are alike, looking up through her tears, raising her head high above the surrounding mighty waters. Thus addressed Colurtmbus: "I have sought you-have been looking far away over the broad ocean since the great I Am said,' Let the waters be gathered together into one place, and let dry land appear."' Then I came up from the innermost caverns of the deep waters, and in my unimproved home I welcome you, notwithstanding the deep breathing of subterranean life and the natural elements have changed my once smooth, unwrinkled cheek of girlhood, and left deep and wide century furrows on my face. Yet I welcome you, for by your instrumentality my old constitution will be made to smile with youth and beauty. I will watch over and be kind to you and yours, will exercise parental care, and we part not. "Whom God joins together shall never be severed," through all the crooked ways and dark paths the human family haLve to tread(. With a warm, pul 29 I BEYOND THE WEST. sating heart I will give the exuberant bosom of a common mother to all the families of men who will come unto me. With arms extended, and with welcome hands, I will take my legitimate children and nourish them upon my capacious bosom, for they will appreciate my blessings, and draw from me that best of life that maketh children men, intelligent anrid free, grow great, prosperous and happy in my approving smiles. I will add to thie jeweled diadem of the Old World a central star, around which in time all the old crowned continents will revolve and bathe in my radiating light, and happy life will look where I live for higher types of life, from the Arctic circle to the tropics, from the rising of the sun to the going down of the same. The old rhl-eumatic, life-destroying systems of extending empire and propagating religion by fire and sword through rivers of human blood, trampling tihe f,-irest field in every century into bloody mire by mighty atrmies, here found an antidote, a heart felt counteracting influence, in our more congenial soil for working life. The gray-.haired customs of the people in the old countries, shut up like oysters in themselves, crawled out of their century-worn shell into a better life. This the strongest wedge that ever split the knotty block of blind intolerance. This the heavy weight which 30 DISCOVERY oF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. pulled old empires down. Inquisition can never more seal thy lips, thou new civilization; mrore eilightenment; upward and onward around the universe. The art of printing being discovered about this time, the storehouses of antiquity were opened to the world-the accumulated minds of the past had a "Rip Van Winckle" resurrection and came forth from dusty alcoves, and again spoke to living, acting men. The old, grown together, matted web of ages, woven far back in the dark chambers of the past, began to untwist-and the great Reformation about that time aroused a new, upward and onward movement in all human affairs. From that time there arose a more liberal knowledge —a before unknown light penetrated the twisted meshes of human imperfections, and began to cast off the scale of crushed habit and to develop a better growth of the nobler, the higher part of intelligent existence. The old empires of men were soon to plant in this new laend tlhe elements of the highest civilization the world had yet known. The human heart began to vibrate anew; the sharp edge of independent thought and action struck quick and deep, to plant the germs for a more enlightened empire in our rich and beautiful but unsubdued land. You have, no doubt, heard of Young America. He is fasliionably built, high-fid. I 31 A I.. 1,.. I.-. -.I.I II 1 BEYOND THlE W ET. high hearted, but gets the dyspepsia in his neck-tie and the reputation of being headstrong, because he carries his head on his shoulders instead of under his arm, and feels the pulse-beatintgs of the world's mighty heart. The dictates'of silent nature would rebuke us were I to leave the great discoverer here-would call us ungrateful. We pass that period of his life which shows how soon a change may come over life's resplendent day, caused by the inhumanity of a usurping commissioner. When the noble-minded Isabella heard how he had been inhumanly treated and the royal authority abused, her large heart filled withli mingled sympathy and indignation, for he had been sent from the land he discovered to the Court of Spain in irons. When he saw sympathizing tears in the eyes of his open-handed, warm-hearted Queen, lie fell at her feet. There is a gilded cord of sympathy running through, and throwing its folds about the citadel of life in every bosom that vibrates with music to faithful duty and repeated kindness-kniting, as with golden fingers, a silken web around troubles. Columbus made other discoveries and exploratious which were perilous and lengthy; so that wheii he ultimately arrived in Spain, his patroness hlaving finish-ed her earthly work, his income io()t F i 32 I DISOOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CONTNENT. 33 having been paid, he had no home but an inn; and poor, with health impaired by his long and weary care, he soon found his earthly end approachin I. le put in order all his worldly affairs, and made arrangements to have the Holy Sepulchre rescued from the infidels. He left none of life's duty unperformed. He made Christianity a centre around which all things took their place. With a few devoted friends about him, his great soul traveled to another clime -went to the Eternal Father's home to rest, full of honors and full of years, leaving this our country as his enduring monument. He had done enough of this world's hard work, contended manfully with the vicissitudes of human life. He acquired his honors contending, not on. battle's crimsoned field, but against poverty, hardship and remarkable circuimstances amid the opposition of his fellow menl. Ilis life furnishes an illustrious example for men iwho will come out from the self-same bog-trot all the year round, and assume the execution of high undertakings and the fulfillment of a noble purpose. He never stood on the narrow ridge of self, but graded it down to a proper level. He never sought wealth, but developed himself to the service of mankind. "Then I pray thee write him as one who loved his fellow men." A wrong trembled like a guilty thing, surprised in his presence, for he stood on the i BEYOND THE WEST. heights of honor, and virtuous acts always felt his fostering hand. He seemed to have been designed to fill up a great vacancy in the round of usefulness high Heaven bestows. A great man, indeed, who has the eternal principles of true manliness in his very being, who can say I am a man in all the noble thoughts which that word conveys-nothing that is human is foreign to me. I represent philanthrophy and morality not in a stolen coat. Genius and unflinching resolves, when concentrated upon one object, seldom fail to accomplish magnificent results. You see the grateful nation for whom he had labored bearing his remains to the land he first discovered, and on the transfer of that island to the French in 1795 we again see them bearing his remains to Cuba and depositing them in the great Cathedral at Havana, in the wall on the right side of the grand altar, with all the national display due to departed greatness, amid the city's roaring cannon and surge of men. You will remem ber that he was sent home degraded, in ignominious chains, from this very port from which his remains were taken. But posterity, ever just to true greatness, thus verifies the great principle that a life filled with commendable merit never fails to be rewarded by the commendation and applause of posterity; or as the acorn drops to earth unseen, let I'll...., 1 1 I 34 I DISCOVERY OF TIE AMERICAN CONTINENT. Time's unearthing hand castoff its shell, when the real life within comes forth and we behold the trunk, the branches, the foliage, the solid oak. True meritreal greatness-outlives calumny and receives its glorious rewards in the admiration of after ages. Considering the time in which he lived, he was l:ke our own greatest of men-who was "first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen,"the embodiment of honor, the repository of justice. They drank largely of the stream of life that ever flows through the Eternal City, bearing in their bosoms the crown jewels of immortality. But few lives are bound closer together with sealed gold. The one gave to the world the American Continent, a new home for the nations; the other planted deep in our land Republican Government, the germs of true happiness, and unfurled truly "Freedom's banner," wrapped us up in its silken folds, and left the trophies of enduring fame down in the deep recesses of our national heart. Their deeds of lofty purpose will hang on the ends of time, covered with wreaths of immortal honor. As certain products of the earth are the natural growth of peculiar soils at particular times, so some men emanate almost necessarily out of certain conditions of civilization, from the culminating point of producing causes, and stand forth as the representatives of the times in which they live. I 4 35 BEYOND THIE WEST. We admire and praise that individual who answers best the great end for which he was created. We admire that tree, that vine which bears fruit the most rich and abundant. That star which is most useful in the heavens is the one we admire the most. We have in the character of our subject a representative man-fully developed and meritorious, but long since enrolled among the noblest of the dead. Rest in peace, great Columbus, thy fame circles the temple of memory high up. Thy name will ever be mentioned with honor; it is like that of a household idol in the nation's citadel of life, and will be handed down with reverence, will live as long as there is an American race living in waving fields, with groves of happiness between. Far be it from my purpose to adorn our subject with a chaplet plucked from the domain of others, when we say his far-reaching intelligence, his noble character, is a full pattern for any age and country. Ile wears not borrowed honors; he will ever receive the grateful respect of a grateful people. Go back to the old empires, examine the honored names, the benefactors of earlier days; turn ovei the records of Ancient Greece; review the books of mighty Rome; summon back the honored dead of every age; and where, among the race of morta] men, shall one be found who has been a greater ben 36 DISCOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. efactor to mankind than Columbus. His tomb, (,f' right, belongs to this country, and we believe the time will come when hlis remains will be a sacred deposit in our land without their being removed. That the American Eagle will spread her life-giving wings of better life over that queen gem of all the islands, her feet resting upon a noble monument, a tribute honorable to parent and child, designed by the grateful hearts, upraised by the willing hands of American citizens a monument to a world's benefactor-the great, the immortal Columbus. "Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, ' What writest thou!' The vision raised its head And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answer'd' The names of those who love the Lord. And is mine there?' said Abou.' Nay, not so,' Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low But cheerily still, and said,'I pray thee, then Write me as one who loves his fellow-men.' The angel wrote and vanished. The next night It came again with a great wakening light, And show'd the names whom love of God had bless'd And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest." i I 37 I CHAPTER III. ITS FIRST SETTLEMENT. The discovery itself of the American Continent may properly be regarded as the most extraordinary event in history. In this, however, as in other events, familiarity blunts our conceptions and time dulls the sharp edge of our perceptions. Yet the more I have meditated, the more I have investigated, and become familiar with the wonderful circumstances with which it is clothed; its magnitude increases with every successive contemplation. That a continent as large as Europe and Africa united, extending on both sides of the equator, lying between the Western shores of Eirope and Africa and the Eastern shore of Asia, with numerous intervening islands, stopping places on the road of discovery, should have been undiscovered for five thousand years is a mystery beyond human comprehension. It would seem that the All-Wise Ruler of the human family must first see what the nations of the Old World could do, towards establishing Ii, great humanity upon earth, before the dark curtain which hid its last hope is lifted up. The old intolerant civilization, when weighed in the eternal balances of high Heaven, was found wanting. On the ..1...... i ITS FIRST SETTLEMENT. first day of August 1620, a few care-worn Eniglish subjects exiled themselves from Delf Haven, in Holland, to encounter the then dreaded perils of the Atlantic and the still greater uncertainties of their proposed settlement on the edge of the New World. In coming to this country, our fathers contempla ted a safe retreat across the sea where they could worship God according to the dictates of their own conscience. Judging from the primitive compact sigDed on the 11th of November, 1620, on board the Mayflower, before they landed in Provincetown harbor, after their very precarious voyage, evidently shows a decided intention to establish a government on the basis of equality-to unite in their code religiori and liberty, morals and law. The Pilgrims were actuated by that principle which has given the first impulse to the great movements of the modern world, " God and Liberty." They had the imperfections of humanity. Those exalted principles were combined with human weakness. They were mingled with the prejudices and errors of age, country and sect; sometimes intolerent, yet always reverent and sincere. When pressing their wishes to the government and enlisting the favor of some good men to assist them in their new undertaking, they put forth the following as their principle reason: I. i I 39 BEYOND THE WEST. "We do verily believe and trust that the Lord is with us, unto whom and whose service we hlave given ourselves in many trials, and that Hle will graciously prosper our endeavors, according to the simplicity of our hearts." Men who can put forth such words with sincerity, and who have embarked in a just cause, are almost sure to succeed. They may not live to gather the fruits of their own planting; others may build, but they have laid the foundation. Entertaining such views, the body was raised above weakness; it nerved the humble to withstand the frowns of power; it triumphed over the prison and the scaffold, over all kinds of suffering and deprivation; it gave also manly courage to tender and delicate women. Whatever may be said for or against the motives our Pilgrim fathers had in coming to the New W'orld to found a colony, they did plant deep in the fruitful soil the living principles of republican gov ernment for the admiration of mankind. Two hundred and fifty years has now passed away since this faitllful colony landed upon our shore. We love to go back to our infancy and follow up the settlement of the country; to see the wilderness and the frowns of savage nature give way to homes of civilized life. The log house of the frontier settler first built on the shore of the Atlantic moved slowly but steadily, con i I i t 40 i I ITS FIRST SETTLEMENT. quering hostile nature towards the setting sun, compelling the cabin of the trapper and the wigwarn of the savage to change their homes farther and still farther to the West, and then beyond the Great West, where we now find men planting towns and cities, making governments and doing all other acts and things requisite to the establishment of healthy and prosperous homes. The natives are not wholly alone in their would be savage glory, for civilization has established itself across and over the continent, and they must conform or be ultimately annihilated. Every obstacle must be removed that is in the way of the extension of this growing family of great and prosperous States in the West. "Behind the squaw's light bark canoe The Steamer and Railroad rocks and raves, And city lots are staked for sale Above old Indian graves. I hear the tread of pioneers, Of nations yet to be; The first low wash of waves where soon Shall roll a human sea. The rudiments of Empire here Are plastic yet and warm, The chaos of a mighty world Is rounding into form. Who can or will presume to assign limits to our growth or dare to compute the time table of our railway progress, or lift the curtain that hides the 41 BEYOND THE WEST. crowded great events of the coming century. The noble work now established across the continent will go on. We indulge in the bright vision of healthful progress all over our land, from the first headland our progenitors saw on the Atlantic coast to the last promontory on the Pacific, which receives the parting kiss of the setting sun. Kind reader, the only apology I have to give you for the unusual length of these articles, is their importance to us, also to the whole family of man. We too often forget (not that we are ungrateful) the beginnings of what we now are. It becomes the children of noble progenitors to turn back occasionally the well-filled pages of time, pass to where they had a parentage, where the underlying principles were established from which a nation has grown by steady steps, great and prosperous at home, and sent back to the old world the healthful influence of a better civilization, in which every soul has an interest, and can breathe freer wherever the atmosphere of heaven has worked a pair of human lungs. "'Tis yours to judge how wide the limits stand between a great and happy land, from ocean to ocean." Now that freedom is established all over the land, we have no more cause of war, and peace has come to stay. We shall have prosperous continentalen 42 ITS FIRST SETTLEMENT. terprise from the cold North (as we now go there) to the sunny South-one government, one noble destiny. "The Pilgrim spirit has not fled; It walks in noon's bright light, And it watches the bed Of our glorious dead With the holy stars by night I And it watches the bed Of the brave who have bled, And shall guard this wide-spread shore Till the waves of the bay Where the Mayflower lay Shall form and rise no more." i I i I 43 CHAPTER IV. WHERE IS THE WEST? The first settlers upon Massachusetts Bay, after exploring the country for twenty miles "out West," reported the fact with great surprise, and boasted that the soil was tillable for that entire distance. This book is styled Beyond the West, for the reason that what is generally understood by the great productive West, seems to stop this side of the geographical centre of the continent North and South. Nature has drawn the line of demarkation between them. The central rivers of the continent-the Mississippi aLrd Missouri-form, to some extent, the boundary. The continental centre is about half way between the Missouri river and the base of the Rocky Mountains. West of this the whole country to the Pacific is so differently made up as to be quite another country, as to the natural productions and climate. Consequently, what we mean when we speak of the Old West does not belong to this other New West. This has distinctive characteris tic features peculiar to the country, quite different from the Atlantic side. "WHERE THE WEST Is.-Chicago is no longer a WIHERE IS THE WEST? western, but is an eastern city. It is only 900 miles to the Atlantic coast, while it is 2,350 miles to the Pacific coast. Dividing the Union into east, centre and west, the eastern division will embrace all the States lying east of the Mississippi river; the central, all the States and Territories between the Mississippi and the Rocky Mountains; and the western, all the States and Territories between the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific coast. Somewhat the largest of these three great divisions is the central. Anrid, astonishing as it may appear to those who have not examined the map carefully, the territory lying west of the Rocky Mountains contains as many square miles as the territory east of the Mississippi river, notwithstanding this comprises eleven bouthern, all of the so-called'Eastern' and'Central' States, and all of the old'Northwest.' The completion of the Pacific Railway has changed the central, and moved the west 1,200 miles toward the setting sun. The actual west consists of California, Oregon, Washing on, Nevada, Arizona, Utah, Montana, Wyoming, and the major portion of Colorado and New Mexico. It is hard to realize the truth that Chicago is an eastern city, and that Illinois is not even a central, but is an eastern State. Omaha, which has always been regarded as on the western verge of the'Fal West,' is in fact 150 miles east of the center of the i 45 BEYOND THE WEST. Union I" Consequently we can with propriety style this book Beyond the Old West. I hope that no American citizen will let an opportu ni ty pass to make the trans-continental journey; with. out it, no one can have an extended knowledge of his own country, of the great extent of our domain, our wonderful resources and our future destiny. Chicago is the gathering-in point of Railroads. She is the center of railway commerce, East and West, and may now be called an Eastern city, which a few years ago was very far to the West; for the star of empire has left her far -behind to the full enjoyment of home enterprise and home comforts. Whether the traveler to the West from New York goes by New York Central, Erie, or by Michigan Southern or Michigan Central, leaving at the same time, he is carried into Chicago almost at the same moment, a thousand miles journey. From Chicago to Omaha, where begins the Pacific Railroad, is five hundred miles, through Northern Illinois and Central Iowa by the Chicago and Northwest'ern Railway, crossling the Mississippi River about half way. Two more roads further South will soon be finishedRock Island and Burlington —which will give Chicago and Omaha three separate lines nearly direct. Omaha has also communication with the great commer cial city of St. Louis by the road down the Mlissouri River to St. Joseph and Kansa, City. ,t6 WtiE-RE IS TIIE WEST - It seems, however, strange that Railroads should go before civilization. Yet it is so with the Pacific, giving more ease and luxury to travelers than any other road in Europe or America, more comfortable and luxurious accommodations for railway travel than anywhere else in the world. This results from the country through which it runs. We find on no other railways as yet so elegant and ease-giving carriages as the refreshment and sleeping cars offered travelers on this new highway of nations; all the accommodations of a first class hotel upon wheels. They are the invention of Mr. Pullman, who will ever receive the grateful thanks of a grateful traveling public. iHe has associated his name with one of the greatest improvements in railroad travel. These jars are owned by companies and added to tihe trains of railroad companies by special agreement. Additional charges are required of passengers who occupy them, in proportion to the amount of room taken, but about on a par with the charges of a good hotel for meals and lodgings. To enjoy and appreciate these cars, a party of about twenty should charter the exclusive use of one, with which to make the continental pleasure trip to the Pacific. Start ing from the Atlantic cities in a Pullman home, the journey across the continent to San Francisco may be made with a pleasure and comfort unequaled heretofore in all the trjveler's dreams. a 47 CHAPTER V. THE NORTHWEST PASSAGE DISCOVERED. Many have been the expeditions fitted out by the old countries and this, to explore the ice-bound regions of the Arctic Seas. Many noble men went out with an old Roman hardihood into these unknown Northern Seas of ice and darkness, to meet the only enemy with which they felt themselves mated. Their long years of perilous and difficult adventure in these inhospitable regions stand foremost among the heroic achievements of mankind. The most noted expedition was that of Sir John Franklin in 1845 with 135 selected men, not one of whom ever returned; but all wont to explore the vast ocean from whose bourne no traveler returns. These explorations prove, beyond all doubt, that if there is a northwest passage to India, or any other place, it'is very much iced up, and is a much more uncertain road to travel than Jordan. But it was reserved for the last part of this nineteenth century to discover and make the only practical highway of iron to India, or any other place in that neighborhood, If it were not for the ferry at the Pacific end, it would, no doubt, push itself directly there. Hlowever, as it is, humanity is brought nearer together; the old East has moved toward a better reconstruction of humanity. d I __ _______ ______ ~~~__ ~ OMAHA. 7, i OlklAI-IA. CHIIAPTER VI. OMAHA AND NEBRASKA. Omaha, the principal city in Nebraska, rises symmetrically from the west bank of the Missouri. You see its majesty of location a(nd its already extended improvement at one view. It being the starting place and headquarters of the Pacific Road, has imparted to the city a wonderful development) and it has now a population of 1 8,000.. It has also the river at its command) navigable for two thousand miles in either direction, with the principal workshops of the Railroad and the lines from the other parts of the country centering around it to make their transshipments. This place is destined to become one of our great interior cities. A bridge will soon be built across the river to Council Bluffs; then the same cars can go back and forth from one end of the continent to the other. A considerable portion of Nebllaska presents g'ood inlducements to the settler. For more than two hundred rmiles it is washed by the tributaries of the Platte arid Missouri. For some two hundred miles wvest fi()m'the river the land is somewhat rollitig, well watered and pIleity of wood. Tills portionl of tlhe state is being settled rapidly; well cul I i I I I i i I iI 1: i i II i i 1 1 i i i i i ii I i BEYOND THE WEST. tivated farms are constantly in view, and all look healthy and prosperous as a people can who are contending anew with the unsubdued rough elements of nature. But the humble habitation of the emigrant is passed, and nature for the present, has limited his settlement in this direction. - i I I 50 (..CHAPTER VIL THE PLAINS. ' We cross the prairie as of oid The pilgrims crossed the sea, To make the West as they the East The household of the free?' Here we must wait till the rivers and streams which gather in the melted snows in summer on this slope of thle Rovky Mounntains are damned and made to irrigate this otherwise unproductive soil, as to cereals, fruit and vegetables. But thie native grass is strong and nutritious, und( pasturage is uibouIl(ded; if it were not so, the countless herds of buffalo would not have fattened and roamed these plains for unnumbered centuries. This country would laugh now to be called by the opprobrious name of "American desert." But the Railroad has killed, for the present, whatever cultivation these plains had received during the time of slow movitig emigration, stage travel and prairie schooner freightinig. The ranches and stations which were supported by this travel through the country are now abandoned, for the cars carry everybody and everythii)g. They -were the out-posts of civilization, but now the old roads are abandoned and the settlers have lost their improvements, being obliged for better protection ...... .1......1-1........ - --.. - -. - - -1 - - I.-., 11 - I I- -.1 I.., "- .. —. I.....". I ".... -..... I i I t i I t i I BEYOND THIE wEST. to move back or ahead, or gather at the railroad stations. They are the victims of a higher development; the iron-tongued locomotive calls them back to receive that prominent enterprise which she carries -,lotig with her through the country for the settler. I noticed that one ('lass of the original inhabitants of this region remained in their old homes with out fear or favor, careless and unconcerned as if there had been no change ill their land. The prairie dog villages or settlements with their traditional colnpanions remained as of old. He stood erect on the threshold of his castle, his own picket and scoutt, enjoyilng the world as of old, like a gentleman a.d philosopher. An Lonest real estate dealer, he condducts his business upon the principle that iihabitants are requisite to make a city, anid never defr'tu(1s unsuspecting victims; always jovial, frolics merrily wvith his fellows in the warm sun, makii)gf seeinilgly, his litfe a party of pleasure. There is a beliet that the prairie dog willingly gives the owl and rattlesnake a home in his subterranean house. I was informed by an oldt hunter and trapper tlhroug,h the couintry, who had good opportunities of observwttion, that the prairie dog consents to share lIis abode with these ill-assorted denizens through his iinability to avoid it. Their villages are on the naked plains, where there is neither rock for I el ik i I I I i 15 ) i i I I I i I i i -i 1I i I I II i i I II i TIHE PLAINS. the rattlesnake nor shade for the winking e es of the owl. These idle and impudent foreigners in trude and appropriate to themselves the labors of the industrious little animal which provides himself wvith a cool shelter from the burning sun, and a comfortable home to shelter him from the storm. Wheniever they are driven to seek refuge firom sun or storm, they enter unceremoniously and take possession. Aly now friend mountain man also informed me that the rattlesnake, when other food was not conveniently obtained, would appropriate to himself a young prairie dog, and that the owvl waits at the doer of its appropriated (without leave) domicil to nab a wandering mouse that might come tha,t way, instead( of goiing after it as an honest owl should do. Hovwever, they seem friends, for I su1ppo(Se the vwould(-be lord and master of the household dare not be other wise for fear of ready vengeance. I have seen him wieien do)mestic troubles seemed to rack his little red dlo,gish constitution, when it was easy to imagina hie lo(oked( a lecture, each sparkling eye a sermon. Around their burrows the earth is heaped up 18 or 20 inches, from the top of which the occupants de. light to survey what is going on in the community. They feed at night, are very shy, and when shot, unless killed outright, will tumble back into their hole. -.1 i .1I I 'I .i I I i i i i 5119) BEYOND THE WEST. Their flesh is tender, rich and juicy, which in such a country is often very desirable. They are often found many miles from any water; some conjecture that they dig subterranean wells, others that they live without. drinking; daring winter they remain torpid, shut in their subterranean hduse, and when they come out it is a sure indication of warmer weather. A remarkable sameness is observable in the topography and geological features of thede elains, presenting a great contrast between the rich green prairies of Illinois, Iowa, Missouri and a por;ion of Kansas. "Away, away, from the dwellings of men, To the wild deer's haunt and the buffaloes glen." No active, living town now marked the lonesome plain to beat and throb from life's great business vein. The vision wanders over the boundless expanse, stretching all around to the horizon. The traveler startles at the thrilling sensation, the illimitable freedom; his mind and body both seem to have entered another country, expanded as tihe boundless imagery that is spread in distance around him. After many days and weary nights of travel, in tile dim outline of distance to the northwest was seien Long's Peak, clearly defined against ominous la4,: k clouds, more than a hundred( miles all. I 5 -1 THE PLAINS. Next is seen Pike's Peak; at length the whole west er!) horizon seems bounded with clearly defined mountain ranges, towering up, standing against the sky, large, massive and sublime, having the appearance of low clouds more than mountains. i i I iI L t 55 CHAPTER VIII. DENVER CITY. Denver City is pleasantly located under the shadow of the mountains, on the South Platte; is substantially built of brick and wood; has good hotels, banks, a United States Mint, some fine blocks of buildings, and is the business centre of a large section of country. The town is settled down and is much more substantial now than when I visited it before. It has lived through its first and fickle days, when drinking and gambling reigned supreme, when "to be or not to be" was the all-absorbing question with those owning real estate and doing business. The prob. lem is now solved. Denver is a fixed fact-has all the elements in and around her to become a prosperous, wealthy city. Her central location, contiguous to the mountains and the plains in this section of the State, gives her an agreeable climate the whole year-gives her the outgo and the income of all the mining districts. Denver' is also the principal market for all the agricultural productions of the farming counties; also the central place for travel to and from the mountain mining regions; also north to the Railroad and south to New Mexico. With i i i i. I i i i I t I i DENVER CITY. these local facilities, and with an enterprising, intel [ig,ent population already of about five thousand, growing from within and without, and not wholly by importations, it will soon have the Pacific Railroad on the St. Louis route, connecting her with the branch of the Central that comes down from Cheyanne, giving her ample railroad advantages. i i I 57 t CHAPTER IX. THE MOUNTAIN RANGES. Here, from the door of our hotel, we contemplate In woI(derful grandeur the mountain ranges, nature's maglnificent panorama, such as never feasted the hard-earned glories of human effort, equaled only by the Great Artist-face to face with God's wonlerful yet beautiful handiwork. The continental mountains dwell here in magnificclit proportions, extend themselves in reckless luxuriance of conscious greatness, and intivite the nation to. her for strength, for wealth, for the most Iealthful recreation. They may truthfully be called ViLe Mother Mountains of the continent. Starting from an elevation on the plains of over five hundred feet, these mountains go up eight, ten, eleven and twvelve hundred feet above the sea level. Peaks are scattered every where. This hight, indeed, they are the mountain ranges. They do not form a line, as cending from one and descending to another valley, but are many lines fold(led together and resting on each other in remarkable confusion, the range that divides the waters that flow to the Atlantic from those going to the Pacific. "The divide" runs MOUNTAIN RA-GES. very irregular, making quarter and half circles, and then returning to its mission as a north and south line. Within its leviathan folds are other divides, making other feeders of the same river, and other ranges with peaks as high as the parent among them all, occasionally, as if weary with perpendicularity, give way to plains, withi all the characteristics of plains outside the mountain rDanges; and then the added pleasure of having little mountains of their own to make more interesting the landscape, while up and around them are stationed the old grand patriarchal sires, to guard and enfold what are known as the Parks. I i i i i i i I .5 II) C(HAPTER X. ASCENT OF PIKE'S PEAK. As none of the Rocky Mouttain Peaks have such universal notority over the country as Pikers Peak, although not ascending it myself, I have thought proper to give A. D. Richardsoti's description of his party's ascent, for the benefit of the general reader. The distance from Colorado to the summit of Pike's Peak as the bird flies, is five miles, by the nearest practicable route about fifteen. A Colorado gentleman who had once made the trip, became our guide, philosopher, and comrade. Early in the morning, escorted by a party o(f friends, we rode to the Fountain Qui Bouille, stopping for copious draughts of that invigorating water. A mile further, the canyon became impracticable for vehicles, so that carriages turned back and we began our pedestrian journey. Like Denver and Golden City, our starting point was higher above sea-level than the summit of Mount Washington. Six athletic miners, ranch-men and carpenters who chanced to be going up that morning, led the caravan. Our own party of five, in single file, brought up the rear. We were each I I ASCENT OF PIKRVS PEAK. d with a stout cane and a drinking cup. The were ill bloomer costume, withbroad-rimnmed( t liglht satchels suspended from their belts. T uappy trio of men in thick boots and heavy shirts. witlout coats or waistcoats, carried rs, knives, and hatchets, and bent under their acks of provisions and blankets. My own i twenty-one pounds and I thought full twentyundred before the weary journey was ended. teep narrow canyon, unmarked by any trail, a d in smooth precipitious rocks, impassable quadruped less agile than a mountain goat. he bottom of the gorge, a brook leaped and s over the rock in a stream of silver. The king hills were thickly studded with shrubs nd tall trees of piie, spruce and fir. Wild i, hops, and clustering purple berries grew sion. Talley abt-)ounds in gems (,f beauty, " po(.ket of poetry in velvet anid gold." ade our noon camp at one of these, wh'cll ause the heart of an artist to sing with joy. rook, first appearing in view under a natural ridge above us, comes tumbling down in a of stow white foam, torn into sparkling by the jutting rocks, and is lost among the h ulders at our feet. An irregular mass of I i t t i I IC i I " i i C) I Il i II i I I I I II I i I i I I i I i I i Ii II i BEYOND THIE WEST. granite rises upon one side more than a hundred feet, and on the other bank the singing waters are shaded by tall pines and blue-tipped firs. Between and beyond their dark branches, a gray cone-shaped hill, bare of tree or shrub, stands in the back ground against a wonderfully blue and pellucid sky. A lively shower soon recalled us to the practical, when it was discovered that our whisky, through defective corking, had escaped from the bottles. It might prove a serious loss in case of great exhaustion; but after boiling our tin-cups of tea by a fire of branches we started on. The afternoon climb was still along the canyon, sinking knee deep into the gravelly hill; clutching desperately at friendly bushes to keep from falling backwards, and toiling upon hands and knees over wet, slippery rocks. At four o'clock, cold and weary, we encamped where ou. advanced party had already halted. Supper was prepared and eaten before a glorious fire of tree trunks; then the deep woods resounded with laughter and song. But long before midnight we all slept, watched by the sentinel stars which haste not, nor rest not, but shine on forever On the second morning we made hasty toilets with the brook for a mirror, and consumed our fried pork, biscuit, and cups of tea while sitting upon logs. We continued through two rugged canyons, with a 62 ASCENT OF PIKERS PEAK. smooth grassy valley between. Many of the mountains are streaked with broad bare tracks, left by land slides. Vast masses of disintegrated granite are piled upon each other in dreary wastes. One huge stone chair overlooks a little kingdom of mountain and valley, but the Titan who sat upon it was long ago dethroned in one of nature's terrible convulsions, which uprooted hills, and scattered granite boulders like pebbles. The burdens already hung like millstones about our necks. I began to comprehend the emotions of a pack mule, and to wonder whether a man to carry twenty-seven pounds of blankets up Pike's Peak, did not belong to the long-eared species himself. A cold rain set in, and at noon, drenched and shivering, we encamped under a shelving rock. We kindled a fire and dined upon a rabbit which had sur: rendered unconditionally to a revolver. The only true philosophy of getting wet is to get soaked. Moist clothing brings a hesitating discomfort, but in feeling that every thread is drenched there is a desperate satisfaction. So we went forth in the driving rain, and feasted upon ripe raspberries, which grew so abundantly that one could satisfy his appetite without moving. Then we returned to camp tiho roughly saturated, and throughout the afternoon mad( 63 BEYtON-D TIlE WEST. sorry essays at reading and whist playing. Early in the evening our robust Colorado friends, who had gone a mile beyond us, passed by onl their return, having given up the trip as too severe. We gathered an ample supply of wood. The dead pines, of(ten six inches in diameter and thirty feet high, Nveie easily overturned; their brittle roots snapping like pipe steins. As the fire was our only solace, we piled on logs until the -ed flames leaped high tid chaseud Iie 1ttieK darkness away. Four of us huddled under the rock, while the fifth, as the least of two evils, sat grimly in the open air, wrapped in his blanket and broodinig upon destiny. The rain became very violent, and the natural roof sloping unfortunately in the wrong direction, showered the water upon us in melanch(ily profusion. After many dismal jests about our dreary situation, one by one mn co-tenants dropped asleep. My own latest recollection of that procrutstean bed was at eleven o'clock, wlenr I was wooit;g the drowvsy god with my legs in .i mund puddle, a sharp rock piercing amy ribs, and a stream of waiter pourilig down my back. At midnight my friends arose, for the air had grown very clill, and sought our great log fire. After elIjo(yilJiA for a few minutes the comforts of its red flaii,eS. L comfort mitigated by the peltitg rain, wrapp)ing myself agailn in a wet blanket, and creepilg -,;s fir i t i I I i :t 17 ii I r —I i I 64 II I i I i I ii I i i I i I ii I i i i i - i i i II I ill 'i i i i I 11 i I 11,i i i I i I i ! i I i i i i 1 1 i I I!1 1! I i 11 i ii i i i. II' ASCENT OF PIKEIS PEAK. as possible under the rock, I soon slept soundly. At daylight when I awoke they were still out in the driving rain, sitting before the flmrnes in glowing contemplation, like Marius amid the riiiis. On the third morning we breakfasted morosely, sore and stiff in every joint. Less than half the journey was accomplished, and we had but one day's provisions remaining. One of the ladies had worn through the soles of her shoes in several places, and both were wet, chilled and exhausted, but they would not for a moment entertain the idea of turning back. By seven o'clock we were again climbing the slippery rock. The rain ceases, the breaking clouds once more tuin forth their silver linings "And genial morn appears, Like pensive beauty smiling through her tears." Behind, at our feet, stretches an ocean of pure white cloud, with mounDtain summits dotting its vwst surface in islands of purple and crimson. Before us towers the stupendous peak. In the genial sunlight we begin to feel the comfort of dry clothing for the filst time in twenty-four hours, and press cheerfully on. The hills, swept for miles and miles by vast conflagrations, are black, and bristling with the tall, dead trunks of pine and fir, like the multitude of masts in a great harbor. I i f i i I i i I 65 BEYOND THTE WEST. The valleys are shaded by graceful aspens, whIose leaves quiver in the still air, and carpeted by luxurianit grass rising to our chins, and variegated with flowers of pink, white, blue and purple. Fallen tree trunks abound, held by their broken limbs three or four feet above the ground. Climbing over them is very laborious, and tears to shreds the meager skirts of the ladies. The bloomer costume is better than full drapery. But for this trip women should don trousers. After five hours climbing slippery rocks, we dine luxuriously in a raspberry path, drinking tea fromn our cups and water from a sprinig. Thus far our journey has been only among foothills. Now we reach the base of the peak itself, and climb wearily up the rocky canyon whiclh extends from base to summit. The thin air makes breathing very difficult. At five o'clock we encamped, utterly exhausted, with wild eyes and flusleid faces which excited fears of fever and delirium. The ladies fell asleep the instant we stopped, and one of the mnasculines sank upon the ground. Two of us,tarted for water down the stream bed ten yards distant, but found it dry as Sahara. So we limped down the gorge for half a mile, and in more than an hour reached camp again, each bearing two cups. My companion had barely strength to articulate that he i i i i 66 0 ASCENT OF PIKELS PEAK. would only repeat the waik to save his dearest friend from dying. I succeeded in gasping out an injunction to take precious care of the costly fluid, and we lay down utterly exhausted. But the strong tea, as usual, revived us all, and we started on just as the clouds broke, revealing the rnouIJtaiI)s ar(nd vast gieen prairies far behind us, a dream of beauty. Two of the party suddenly yielded to illness, accompanied by vomiting fits, and reaching the verge of vegetation we encamped for the night. As we rolled ourselves in blankets upon the ground beside our roaring fire, another shower drenched us, and then turned to hail. At nine o'clock our guide reaped the harvest of his exposure and fatigue in distress ing rheumatism, which drove him from his earth bed, and held him writhing in pain during the night, but disappeared with daylight's return. On the fourth morning ice was lying thick about our camp. All the party wore a lean and hungry look, but our scanty larder allowed to each only a little hiacuit, a bit of meat as large as a silver dollar, and an ample draught of tea. At ive o'clockl we left our packs behind and resutmed the march. In climbing Mount Washington the vegetation grades down regularly from tall pines to stunted cedar shrubs with trunks five or six inches thi(k, and -branchesnotmore than three feet high,running along like grape vi,)eq. I 67 I BEVoNI) TIlE WEST Pike's Peak affords a sharp contrast. We started in a dense forest of pines and firs, but vegetation ceases so abruptly that in ten minutes we stood upon the open, barren mountain side, with no green thing about us except a few flowers and beds of velvety grass among the rocks. The remainder of the as cent is very abrupt. We followed the line, which in the distance had appeared like a path, but now proved a gaping gorge a mile in width. The summit seemed very near, but we toiled on and on for hours up the sharp bight. The thin air made it impossible to go more thali a hundred feet without pausing for breath; but among the grand scenery we forgot our fatigue and remembered our weariness no more. The ladies, imbued with new life, could only finid expression in singing the old hymn: "This is the way I long have sought, And mourned because I found it not. Tufts of wood indicated the lhanits of mouintain sheep. an animal of unequaled agility. Hle leaps incredible distances down the rocks, and is even reputed to strike upon his broad horns, which re ceive the most violent concussions without injury. The sky assumed a deeper, richer blue, and the fields of ice and snow began to enlarge., Even here hun(ireds of tulip-shaped blossoms of faint yellow, ili-lgled with purple, opened their meek eyes beside . I I 1.. , I.. - 111. 1.l".. I. " I.. I.,.. ".., I.,., - -... I I... 58 ASCENT OF PIKE'S PEAK. the freshly-fallen snow! It was worth all our toil to see the cheek of June, with its purple flush, nestle among the silver locks of December. Finally the last flower and blade of grass were left behind and only rocks and snow ahead. It became difficult to avoid falling asleep during our brief pauses. Just below this we turned southward to look down a tremendous chasm known as the " Crater." It is half a mile wide, nearly circular, inclosed by abrupt walls of rock, and -fully twelve hundred feet deep. Creeping to the verge of the dizzy hight, while our comrades clung to us with desperate clasp to save us from tumbling over, we dislodged huge rocks into the abyss. Down they leaped, bounding from ledge to ledge, striking sparks and scattering showers of fire, with great crash and roar, that came rolling up to us like peals of thunder long after they were out of sight. One overhanging rock affords to the spectator, lying flat upon his face, an excellent view of the yawning gulf, though its uncomfortable tumbling disquiets his nerves. At last, just before noon, passing two banks of snow which have lain unmelted for years, perhaps for centuries, we stood on the highest poilt of Pike's Peak. The ladies of our party, one a native of Boston, the other of Derry, N. H., were the first of their sex who ever set fio,)t up,on the simimit. I i i I ,I iI i I I BEYOND. THE WEST. Pike's Peak was named in h()onor of General Zebu. lon M. Pike, a gallant young officer, who discovered and ascended it in 1806, while at the head of an ex ploring expedition sent by Jefferson's administ rationi A few years later, before he had reached the p,rime of life, he fell in the defence of his country's flag, at the battle of Toronto. The summit embraces about fifty acres. It is oblong and nearly level, composed wholly of angular slabs and blocks of disintegrating granite. We found fresh snow several inches deep in the interstices, but the August sun had melted it all from the surface. We were fortunate in having a clear day, which gave us the view in its full sublimity. Eastward for a hundred miles, our eyes wandered over dim dreary prairies, spotted by dark shadows of the clouds aind the deeper green of the prairies, intersected by faint gray lines of road, and emerald threads of timber along the streams, and banded on the far horizon with a girdle of gold. At our feet, below the now insignificant mountains up which we had toiled, stood Colorado, a confused city of Liliputs, and our own carriage with a man standing near it. Further south swept the green timbers of the Fountaine Qui Bouille, the Arkansas and the Hluerfano, and then rose the blue Spanish Peaks of New Mexico a hundred miles distant. Eight or teii miles away i 70 ASCENT OF PTKF,S PF AK. two little gems of lakes were set among the rugged mountains holding shadows of the rocks and pines in. their transparent waters. Far beyond a group of tiny lakelets-(eyes of the landscape) glittered and sparkled in their dark surroundings like a cluster of stars. Toward the north we could trace the timber of the Platte for seventy miles, almnost to Denver. To the west, the South Park and other amphitheaters of rich 1oral beauty, gardens amid the utter desolation of the mountains, were spread thousands of feet below us, and beyond, peak upon peak, until the pure white wall of the Snowy Range rose to the infinite blue of the sky. North, south, and west swept one vast wilderness of mountains of diverse forms and mingling colors, with clouds of fleecy white, sailing aerial among theirscarred and rugged summits. We look upon four territories of the Union, Kan sas, Nebraska, Utah, and( New Mlexico, and viewed regions watered by four great rivers of the continent, the Platte, Arkansas, Rio Grande and Colorado; tributaries respectively of the Missouri, the Mississippi, the Gulf of Mexico and the Gulf of California. Upon the north side of the peak a colossal plowshare seeinms to have been driven down from the summit to the base, its gaping furrow visible seventy miles away, and deep enough in itself to burv at mour-tain of i I i i 71 I BEYOND THE WEST. considerable pretensions. Such enormous chasms the armies of the Almighty must have left in heaven when to overcome Luiciferand his companions, "From their foundations loosening to and fro, They plucked the seated hills with all their load, Rocks, waters, woods, and by the shaggy tops, Uplifting, bore them in their hands." At the gorge's head, some enterprising fellow had posted a railway hand-bill, which, with finger pointing directly down the gulf, asserted in glaring capitals, "shortest and best route to the east." It seemed impossible to grow weary of the wonderful picture, but my companions, though wrapped in heavy blankets were shivering with the cold. So we iced and drank a bottle of champagne which a Colorado friend had thrust into one of the packs, and then like more ambitious tourists placed a record in the empty bottle, which was carefully re-corked and buried under a pile of stones. We spent a few minutes in school boy pass-time of snow balling; then, after two hours upon the summit, we reluctantly commenced the descent, for living without eating was becomirg a critical experiment. Our guide, weakened by the hard journey, missed his foothold, falling uponl a jagged rock. Fortunately the metalic case of his spy-glass saved him from a fractured rib, and after lying upon the rocks for a few minutes he came limping down with the rest. In descending, 72 I ASCENT OF PIKERS PEAK.I the rarity of the atmosphere did not retard us, but we found climbing down quite as exhausting as climbing up, and a raspberry diet is not invigorating. At five o'clock we reached the last night's camp, glad to break our twelve hours' fast with ample cups of tea and homeopathic fragments of bread and meat. After a brief halt we hastened on down the ledges and over tree-trunks. When we sat upon a log for a little rest, one of the ladies appeared utterly exhausted. We asked if we should not camp until morning that she might recruit? She could not articulate a single word, but shook her head with indignant vigor. Again pressing on, an hour later we kindled a fire, went to bed, or rather to blankets, and we were instantly asleep. On the fifth morning when we awoke, only that expressive colloquialism which the fire companies have added to the vernacular could describe our condition; we were "played out." We swallowed our last provisions, a morsel of mneat and a tablespoonful of crumbs each. The unfailing tea measurably restored us, but in our exigency we would gladly have exchanged it for the cup which cheers and does not intoxicate. We descended by a new routte over hill sides, crossed and recrossed by tracts of grizzly bears, and through canyons surprising us constantly with a 73 BEYOND THE WEST. new wealth of beauty, which we were hardly in con dition to appreciate. After journeying five or six hours, we experienced, not the gnawing of hunger, but that irresistible faintness which the Irishman so exactly described as "a sense of goneness." Endeavors to talk and think of other matters were fruitless, the "odorous ghosts of well remembered dinners" would stalk unbidden through the halls of memory, and iii vain we sought to "Cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast." At noon we halted by tihe cascade which had so enchanted us on our first day's march, and slhpt for an hour under the shading pines. Then we (3houldered our packs for the first time and hobbled on down the canyon. At four o'clock our guide, who was a few yards in advance, suddenly came upon our waiting carriage. Now that the strain was over, the nerves of the ladies instantly relaxed. One received the intelligence with a shower of tears-the other with hysteric laughter. In a moment we were surrounded by Colorado City friends, wlho, alarmed at our protracted absence, were out in several parties, armed with stimulants and provisions, searching for us among the toot-hills. Two hours later we reached the town. My corn I 74 ASCENT OF PIKE'S PEAK. panions, with haggard cheeks and blood-shot eyes. seemed but shadowy suggestions of their former selves. Each of the ladies had lost just eigl)ht pounds of flesh in less than eight days. One, whose shoes were cut through by sharp rocks early on the jourr)ey, had been walking for three days with portions of her bare feet striking upon the stones, gravel and snow. We were soon clothed and in our right minds, and eating heartily. No lasting inconvenience was experienced from the trip, except the most ravenous and uncompromising hunger which continued at intervals for the next two weeks. If "he is well paid who is well satisfied," the journey was far the most remunerative any of us had ever taken. This Peak is surrounded by several ranges of mountains rising gradually from the plain, with large and small valleys between, so that a carriage can only get within four or five miles of the base of the mountain proper. A party wishing to make the ascension ought to take pack horses; then they can get over all the space from Colorado City to the main ascent with little difficulty, and the party being vigorous, can then gain the peak'without excessive fatigue, and the tourist will experience no inconvenience, "no evil will theInce ensue," but a pleasure in making it. I was informed by a party who had t i II i I i 7.,5 BEYOND THE WEST. made the ascent, that they managed in this way: left their horses at the base of the mountain, made the ascent, remained on the summit two hours and returned to their horses the same day. These were of course experienced mountain men, and could go up and over more mountains in a single day than a party like the one described could in four or five. This was my experience when I first went to these mountains, it was all I could do to look up to some of them, and have a kind of weak-kneed, cushionedchair, feather-bed country atmosphere faint-hearted ness. But after a few months, getting the lungs adjusted to the pew atmosphere, and the additional strength of mountaineer life, brought down these before formidable mountain peaks, within the ability and strength of mortals here below. We have given the ascent of two principal mountains that the reader might have a full knowledge of their piled up magnificence, nature's pyramids. .1 -...;. ". I -. ... I I.-.. 76 0 CHAPTER XI. TIE ROAD TO SOUTH PARK. You are invited to go with me to South Park, something over a hundred miles from Denver, passing over one of the most interesting roads which penetrate the mountains. The pleasant valleys, with their sleepless meandering crystal streams, covered with green buffalo grass, mingled with wild flowers, the easy divide, the gentle slope of the low foot-hills, pictured with small groves of trees having a very heavy foliage, together with the remarkable rock and earth formations, presenting the appearance of extreme old age, arranged by the operative elements of nature, during long centuries, into beautiful architectural grandeur; remarkable specimtel)s of detached rock in the monument region, towers and pyramids hundreds of feet high, scattered thickly over hundreds of acres, in the midst of large tiees, together with the smaller pillars, statues, pagan idols, cardinals, friars, picturesque large and small cottages, Siamese twins, and a numberless variety of images. may be detected among them, differing in color and shape, preselitii,,g a scene of unusual beauty and magniifi I -11 I I BEYOND TIIE WESI'. cenice-some located upon hills, like great temples built by human hands. One is known as Table lUock, another Castle Rock, and another as Signal Rock, from signal fires vwhich the Ii(tianrs formerly built upon it. Capital R)ck takes the form of a strong fortification, with massive walls and arched gateways, let out to the slow but strong and sure hands of time, and being taken down made an un svstematic mass of ruins. They culminate in huge walls at the south, known as the gardens of the gods. Enormous columns of red rock rise perpen dicularly for three hundred feet. Through this natural gateway we passed into a beautiful enclosure, walled up on every side by very high mountainstruly a garden for the gods. One isolated rock has a cave eight feet by sixty, and seventy feet in hight, with walls smooth and seamless. They challenge the admiration of the beholder-impress upon him the idea of a great mountain cemetery, such as Egyptian kings never built to perpetuate ignorant ambitionii. Then, too, the deep canyon, with mountaim walls onl either side, and its sparkling waters. Here truly are " books in the rulnning tbrooks,' if history be true. The view from the entrance to the Park is a landscape of arcadiatii beauty. Magnificenit evergreen mountain slopes within the range of vegetable life, with naked tops above, iinternally i- 6 THE ROAD T') SO)UTII PARK. br(oken into valleys, divided into low ridges, a variety of hot and cold sulphur springs, healthful f;,r bathing; rich salt springs, wild game and fili, togethet with an agreeable climate during the summer season, makes this park $ source of pleasure and profit in a country such as this. The prospecting miners' discoveries in and about it for gold, have been quite successful. Much placer mining in many of the valleys has amply rewarded the labor of the persevering miner. Consequently roads have been made through it and settlements about it-many of them almost abandoned after the mines were worked out. Few places offer m(,re remarkable combinations of plains and mountains; they come towards each other and mingle like an affectionate family in beautiful association. Wide fields of prairie open out before the eye, upraise the vision, and magnificent snowy mountains carry the sight to the clouds. Between these scenes of natural beauty are gently rolling hills, thick diversified groves, clear and beautiful brooks, blending nearly all the delightful panorama of natural grand scenery that hill and dale, mountain and plain, winter and summer, snow and vegetation, trees and rocks, transparent lakes and waste can present in comparison, not from one place, but from da)'s journey to day's journey, ever changing in beautiful alliances I I I i 79 BEYOND THE WEST. An intelligent miner told me that nearly all this park was rich in gold-would pay from three to four dollars per day to wash it over. But I hope it will]] iiot be done, at least till after every body has visited these mountains and parks, for the business leaves great waste in its track. "The San Louis Park" lies along and around the Arkansas and its tributaries in Southern Colorado and Northern New Mexico, and is the largest and, perhaps, the most varied of the series of great parks. It centers about a grand lake, and is rich alike in agriculture and mineral promise. "The Indians have robbed us of our promised peep into its lines, and we know it only by its kinship to those we have visited, and the enthusiastic description of those to whom it is familiar." The South Park, however, is a favorite place for very many Coloradians, and others, perhaps, on account of more easy access, and its attraction more generally known. The salt works here, from which the country is supplied with that necessary article for domestic use, and for mining, is largely manufactured; also the hot springs, boiling up from the ground, very strongly impregnated with soda. O[)e has a basin three feet in diameter, rising from the midst of a seeming great rock, like the Hiigh Rock Spring, Saratoga, through which a large body i I I i i I i I II I I i 8v THE ROAD TO SOUTH PARK. of water gushes up with great force. Coloradiaiis and others mix their flour in this water, without soda or salaratus, making light and good bread. When mixed with tartaric acid and lemon juice, it will foam like champagne, and is as agreeable as any that can be had at an artificial soda fountain. It is said to possess desirable medicinal properties; and the location, combining so many objects of interest and grandeur, will, when the railway is made, be a pleasant summer resort in the alluring park. It lies closely in the lap of the mountains; AMount Lincoln on the northwest to keep sentinel, and protect it from destructive storms, and feed it from its melting snows; while Pike's Peak on the southeast shadows it from the heated rays of the sun. Notwithstanding the great elevation of these parks, the traveler has in summer very agreeable sunshine and an exhilarating atmosphere. Here vegetation grows much higher up than it does in other parts of the country. In the White MounItains vegetation stops at an elevation of five thousand feet. But here the mountain ranges begin to lift themselves up out of the plains at that altitude, and some kinds of grain and vegetables grow heire at seven and eight thousand feet above sea level. These now romantic parks were long centuries ago walled in mountain seas. The road by which i I - I 81 I BEYOND THE WEST. they departed to the oceans, when the man)date went forth, calling the waters together, are cleairly marked, leaving unmistakable evidence, snacii as oceanic waters alwa3s leave behind. There can be no doubt but that ocean water once covered this country, for sea shells and various kinds of fishes, and small animals are found here petrified, such as are only found in salt water. Smrne have been found here ten thousand feet above the level of the sea. Do you suppose that the oceans ever covered this continent to such a hight? I cannot but think that the ocean once covered all this country, and when the great upheaval took place the mountain ranges were brought forth from under the ocean, and that these great parks were originally dammed up mountain seas, and that in time they made a channel through the Iow divides and went back to their mother ocean-leaving in their places the fossil remains, the garden of the "gods and the fountains that boil." The little miners' town of Montgomery is almost hid in the northernmtost part of South Park, under the divide which separates it from Middle Park; the easiest and much the best place to go from one to the other. I would advise all who wish to do so to go this way and not by the way of Gray's Park which is much more tedious and accomplished only by hard labor. 4 I I I i I I I i I 82 t THE ROAD) TO SOUTH PARK. I had now been iL the mountains sufficiently to learn fromn personal experience that these towering edifices of tnature, though grand and majestic to the eye of tlfe passing traveler, assume still greater proportions of magnitude when one attempts to ascend them. "As on through life's journey we go, day by day, There are two whom we meet at each turn of the way, To help or to hinder, to bless or to ban, And the names of the two are " I can't," and " can," "/' ca't" is a dwarf, a poor, pale, puny imp, His eyes are half blind, and his walk is a limp; He stumbles and falls or lies writhing with fear, Though dangers are distant, and succor is near. "Ian"' is a giant; unbending he stands; There is strength in his arms and skill in his hands; He asks for no favors; he wants but a share Where labor is honest and wages are fair. "I can't"' is a sluggard, too lazy to work; From duty he shrinks, every task he will shirk; No bread on his board, and no meal in his bag; His house is a ruin, his coat is a rag. "I ca" is a worker; he tills the broad fields, And digs from the earth all the wealth which it yields. The hum of his spindles begins with the light, And the fires of his forges are blazing all night. "Icaet" is a coward, balf fainting with fright; At the first thought of peril, he slinks out of sight; Skulks and hides till the noise of the battle is past, Or sells his best friends and turns traitor at last. "I can" is a hero, the first in the field; Thtiough others may falter, he never will yield; HIe makes the long marches, hle deals the last blow, His charge is the whirlwind that scatters the foe. ... I,.,.,-.- ". 83 BEYOND THE WEST. How grandly and nobly he stands to his trust, When, roused at the call of a cause that is just, He weds his strong will to the valor of youth, And writes on his banner, the watchword of truth! Then up and be doing! the day is not long; Throw fear to the wines, be patient and strong! Stand fast in your place, act your part like a man, And, when duty calls, answer promptly, "Ican." i ii i i iII i I i I 84 I i I Ill I II II iI ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~II~ I\\\\Ii~~~~~~~~[Ii/; I I ii I~~~~~~~~~~ (~~~~4~~I (~~~C. l'iiIii i a CHAPTER XII. MOUNT LINCOLN. Ilaving procured aguide, we left the picturesque little town of Montgomery in the early morning, and slowly wound our way from the habitation of man up through the thick forest, where nature's great heart beat strong amid the trees until we reached the limit of timber, where the trees dwindled to dwarfs a foot in hight, with trunks six to eight inches through, having long, low branches lying on the ground, twisted into contortions by the storms which pass over them; then came a few blades of grass to the acre, little scattering flowers, very small in leaf and blossom, red, white and blue; next came moss and lichens, the last condensed expression of nature, which termiuated at the snow line. Here the field of granulated snow and ice began to enlarge; soon all kinds ol life were left behind-oronly loose-lying rocks, intermingled with snow and ice in wild confusion. Passing a small lake in the side of the mountain, which, as I was informed, had evei been covered with ice, thawing enough in summer only to loosen the ice a little from the sides, and stopping often to rest the lungs, tired of their expaiisioi .I I: I i BEYOND THE WEST. in ih;litng the light air, the heart and lungs now worked as they never did before, shaking our very bodies in their hurry to keep tp with their work to get even with the air. After climbing over blocks of granite, volcanic rocks, fragments of quartz and lava piled up in the wildest confusion, quite exhausted we reached the summit, and sat down upon the very crest and devoured the little we had brought for the inner man-15,000 feet above sea level, 2,000 feet higher than LonIg's Peak, and 3 000 feet higher than Pike's Peak. The suminit terminates in a small space, about an acre of loose rocks and ice. "This was the way I long had sought." I never realized such poverty of language as when I stood upon that commanding peak. The scene is more than a recompense for the travel-the most magnificent view in all my mountain wanderings. It takes a place beside the few natural wonders of the world. Such wonderful sweep of distalice, such sublime combination of hight, breadth and depth, such welcome to the immortal thought, uplifting mortal lit tleness almost into the presence of God I "The world, how far away it seemed, and God, how near!" We can easily fancy the geItius of solitude sitting f I ages on that desolate mountain peakl, recording upon its strong, stotiy tablets iiic(utI,te(1 centuries 86 MOUNT LINCOLN. of desolation. Its sides are precipitous and rent with deep, dark chasms hundreds of feet deep, into which the light of day never penetrates. Few ever beheld a more magnificent prospect, seldom equaled, and excelled by none-a wilderness of mountain ranges. Colorado is before you; the magnificent parks as seen from here, with their undulating hills, transparent brooks and lakes, enclosing slopes of forests, green pastures, together with "Lo I the poor Indian," who, I presume, here sees truly the Great Spirit in the clouds and hears him in the winds, and the wild animals that live in them-presenting a view of unsurpassed extent and varied beauty, worth a journey across the plains. You look over Long's Peak north to Dacotahb; you survey the hills of Utah to the west, stretching far away toward the golden shores of the Pacific; you look over Spanish Peaks south into New Mexico, and turning to the east your vision wanders over Pike's Peak, to where the extend(ed plains appear to be spread out like a great ocean, and seem to rise ip like the bosom of the deep, ever conscious of its own immensity. Here the Atlantic and Pacifit Oceans met, and here they parted-the ridge poleof the continent north and south, once the dividing line between Kansas and Utah. Here are centered the white fiolds of fo)ur separating moun S7 BEYOND THE WEST. tail) r:lnges, ranges of eternal snow. Here the great rivers, the Platte, Arkansas, Colorado, the Rio Grande and the Blue, sired by the eternal hills and wedded with the sea flowing to the two oceans, rising together, go off east and west towards the rising and the setting sun, begin their journey in the eternal stnows of the dividing range. From its sides these great rivers take their beginning with which to feed both oceans, whose waves age on age have rolled to meet these mighty streams. As we were about to return, a huge black cloud came hastily over the mountain tops from the west, anid soon piercing blasts of wind shrieked among the rocks, and snow darkened the air when we began our return. We soon became charged with electricity, so that our hair seemed full of bees, and sparks flew from the ends of our fingers with a hissii)g sound. Lightning danced around and over the rocks, and played about us, quite blinding the sight. We felt like "fleeing before the Lord,>' but as our bodies were charged equally with the mountain, there wvas no danger. There is a sublime grandeur in these elements as they are presented here. I was reminded of that remarkable interview between man and his Maker, when, amid thundering and lightning, and a fearful quaking of the mountain, He gave to his chosen peo i I i I t 88 MOUNT LINCOLN. people the tables of his law. Black clo)uds rolled over each other a mile or more below us like great monsters in the ethereal ocean. We remained till the freezing air and the rapidly falling snow (as it was in July) chilled us, when we began to return. Slowly feeling our way down th ough the clouds, we retraced the tedious hard-going way to the valley, and gained the town in early evening, having traveled about sixteen mil(es. In honor of the President, under whose administration the territory had been organized, the peak was a few years ago named "Mount Lincoln." Let other States erect their monuments to perpetuate the name and great deeds of the noble dead. Colo rado has this monumental mountain, more enduring than brass and loftier than the pyramids. Storms may sweep over it, quartz mills may stamp their iron feet beneath its shadow, tunnels may pierce its sides, and the mineral wealth of centuries be poured out into the treasury of the world, but its foundations will remain unmoved. Its base is clothed in nature's beautiful wreath of evergreen, while its top reaches so near the heavens as to attain the spotless purity of eternal white. 89 I CHAPTER XIII. THE MIDDLE PARK. As we have said, Montgomery is the easiest place to reach this park, only a single divide between them, which is easily traveled over with wagors, as a very good road was made along the mountain side a few years ago, to bring quartz down from the other side of the range. Starting right early in the morning from tlhe town, the summit was soon reached, and we stood where the waters of the Atlantic and Pacific start off almost from our feet. I would advise all pleasure travelers to visit this place. The picturesque landscape, the two parks as seen from here, present a view hardly to be surpassed, if ever equaled, even in Switzerland or in the mountains of New Hampshire; no traveler's pen would presume to properly describe it; must be seen to be appreciated-the isolated presence of majestic nature. Our road lay from here down the Blue river sixteen miles to Breckenridge-the first six or seven we passed over one immense snow field. With our early start in the morning we were able to get over on the crust; whereas, had we waited till near mid. THE MIDDLE PARK. d ty, it would have been passed with much hardship after the crust melted. some mountain men have snow shoesabout ten feet loiJg, turned up a little in front, with a place in the center for the foot; with these and a stick about the same length, to hold one end ii the hand and drag the other on the snow for bracing, they travel over these snowv fields with ease and rapidity. The valley is narrow, descends for sixteen miles, somtie places but a little wider than the river, with mountain peaks going up sharply on either side, clothed in snow. This coulntry confounds the almanacs, makes July January, and January July-reverses the seasons, and then reverses them back again. All the different seasons of the year are represented at one place here, within the limits of a single view. While we were in South Park, our bodily man was cared for, among the various mining townsbut now on leaving Breckenridge, reluctantly however. as spring supplies had not then arrived, we were obliged to set up house keeping for ourselves aid family, the highly romantic and heroic mode of eating and sleeping one's self. But as "man wants but little here below," a coffee pot, frying pan, jackknite and a pair of blankets is a fair setting out in this country, for the most respected and wealthy, for i i i 0 91 BE,YOND THE WEST. those that move in the best society. Being thus furnished and supplied, we go out somewhat aftei tlhe manner of the "prodigal soni"-being well down in the park, having come down hill all the way for sixteen miles, and yet it is eight thousand feet above sea level. This park is large enough to make a New England State, is the summer home of some of the Indian tribes; in winter they move further south. No grain or vegetables can be grown here on account of the altitude. This park is much more broken into hills and winding valleys than the other, its frequent irregularities and ranges of hills break the plain and changes from bottom land to light, cold gravelly upland, with bunch grass in places. Slow moving streams and quick streams alternate; further away -re ranges thickly wooded, and still further on are the ranges which bound the park and enclose it in eternal snowvs. The sun is warm, and some of the valleys are rich with grass, yet the tourist seems to breathe in the prevailing impression of a certain kind of stintedness. It is found in the earth, in the leaf; in the grass, and hangs around the mountains. The altitude is such as to make all kinds of vegetation dwarfish. An abundance of good grass in the lower valleys and along Grand River in summer, where ... 1. . I a 92 THE MIDDLE PARK. animnals will not only live, but they grow fat upon it, which is the only real use this park will give the white man, but it is the Eden of the Ute Indiars; here they can extend their arms and thank God for the freedom of their existence. Here in the midst of the mountains, unmolested, where wild game and fish are within their reach, away from any path of civilization, they continue to live as the free children of nature. In a romantically pleasant spot I found about a hundred lodges, a village of the Ute Indians, on the bank of Grand River, near the Hot Spring. The dogs were the only party that gave us a fighting greeting. We knew them friendly, and I had had experience enough with them to know that once in their village, on their hospitality, all danger was passed while with them. Begging and good fellowship was manifest everywhere, always "heap hungry," ever begging. Yet mountain and streams are at your disposal, should they be needed. They never forget to ask for (tea cup) biscuit, they will exchange any thing they have for this or flour. As I intend to devote a chapter in this work to the red man and his family I leave them for the present. The Hot Springs of this park are the principal attraction, together with good hunting and fishing, and with an unusually healthy air, makes it an I 93 BEYOND THE WEST. inviting resort for the pleasure seeker and the invalid. They are a curiosity and a virtue, are now a considerable resort for Coloradians and others in the summer season, and when a more practicable road is mlade to them, the park will be a young mountain Saratoga. We found quite a number of visitors here and there is no time during the summer months when no one is there. On the hillside, some way up from the Grand River, these springs boil up in several places commingling together a short distance below, unite in one stream, flow over an abrupt place about twelve feet high, into a little round pond below, which unite and make a natural bathing house. The water seems at first scalding hot, and often at first drives the bather out, supposing himself a little scalded, but by putting in first a hand, then the ai m and other parts of the body a little at a time, you soon get accustomed to tlhe heat and the fall, and the experience is uiiusually exhilarating. The invigorating effects are remarkable; no lassitude, no unpleasant feelings as is experienced after an ordinary hot bath elsewhere. These springs are all different, both as to heat and composition; each has its peculiarities, but no unpleasant sensation is felt even by invalids coming from one into the other. Visitors usually enjoy this lhealthful luxury twice a day, morning and evening. I 94 TIIE MIDDLE PARK. during their stay here; making the old grow younIger and the younger more joyous. The experience is very exhilarating; after a hard day's work a bath will cause one to forget the burthens of the day, the effect on the body is so restorative. The Indians believe them to have wonderful curative properties, and resort to them not only to cure themselves, but also their sick horses. The waters resemble and taste very much like those at Sharon Springs; sulphur, soda and iron are deposited about them in quantity; the principal difference being, these are hot, those cold; their medicinal properties, I presume, quite the same. There are many rare and valuable stones found herepetrifactions, jaspers and crystals are scattered all about, but the celebrated "moss-agate patch" lies a dozen miles away over the river where this beautiful crystalization is found all around. There are many objects in this park that invite the traveler to prolong his stay, none more so than the delicious trout with which the river and streams abound. Antelope are here in large numbers, but the buffalo does not frequent these inner mountain parks. We prolonged our stay here beyond the time we intended, and gratefully and regretfully we took a long lingering look behind at the Hot Springs as I I. I -...... 1. i II.-,,., 1. 1. -11 I; ., I 'I I i I i I I I I I I I i 95 BEYOND THE W vin.. we go over to the Boulder Pass, and leave the fascinating park, to be remembered as a "joy for ever." Soon we pass over low hills, through valleys, into a succession of woods and open spaces as we gradually ascend the mountains, affording fine views of portions of the park. The road goes zigzag round and over the mountain ranges, sometimes through rough seams in the mountain sides, where fire and water seemed to have been at work in time past, to overturn red, brown and gray rocks; nature everywhere convulsed and broken from her original beds and form, as if here was the great supply warehouse and workshop of creation. A few hours travel over them brought us to the foot-hills along the plains, and we again wel. come the new materials in the landscape, for we can look once more far away over the plains to the east, towards home and friends. I i I iI i i I 96 CHAPTER XIV. NORTH PARK. The North Park is separated from the one we have just left by a hii(h cross range of the main mountains. This park extends up to the northern line of Colorado to within a few miles of the Pacific Railroad. It is very much diversified, internally broken, and more wild and unfrequented than the others. Its soil is colder, as its elevation is higher -less fertility and less vegetation. Every kind of vegetable gro:vtli looks as though it was struggling against the frowns of nature. It gives tothe wolves, antelopes, bears, deers and smaller wild animals a more secure home than the more frequented parks.' below. They lhave but few enemies here, save the red men, and them only in summer; old winter and the bears have undisputed possession during that season. Throughl and out of this park flow the head-waters of the North Platte. Its streams are full of trout, while its sage brush give protection to the numerous sage hens, and the hillsides are sprinkled with buffalo and bunch grass for the numerous deer.. Those who desire excessive wild life can find it here i i BEYOND THE'WEST. unbroken; they will have the original principles in their fullness. If a party of six or more, wishiug to spend the summer in the mountains, would rendezvous at the railroad early in June with a traveler's mountain outfit, and begin their journey in the north end of this Park, they would have a summer's romantic enjoyment that would truly be a life-long pleasure. I can not imagine a travel in Europe or this country that would give more satisfaction, more varied knowledge, more wonderfiul unlike experiences of unalloyed pleasure, than to start from the north part of the North Park and go through the who,le line of these incarcerated mountain parks, a distance of more than five hundred miles from San Louis Park, below the Arkans's in New Mexico. This journey could be made leisurely during the summer months, and those who want to have a summer vacation, I am certain would have no cause to regret having made this travel. All of it will be so different from our home experiences, and you will fee} so independent and regardles.of time, (or being fi~xd up in a conventional hotel, with freedom for thought and action, looseness, and let loose to go unbridled to the outer world, only to return with established health and increased knowledge. But you will lose some little homne notions, for which your wife would be thankful, (hliould you be troubled with 98 NORTH PARK. such a necessary evil.) You will take no thought of what you shall have for dinner, or as to what you are to wear, but take whatever you have and be thankful. I fo)und in Middle Park Pr fessor Powell, of Illinois, at the head of a scientific explo(ring expedition. The party was made lup of a (l)zel or more young men, interested in various departments of natural science, giving their time and labor for the enterprise, and for the benefits they expected to derive from it —information anid health. They were spending the summer in the parks and mountains adjoining, taking notes with barometer and thermometer, and collecting all the vegetable productions, animals, birds and fish. The field of observation and investig,ation undertaken by this enterprise is important to the scientific world. They have before them an almost unbounded field of study in physical geography, geology and natural history, as they in tend to explore the great western division of Colorado, now comp)aratively unknown. But few have crossed it! Adventurous miners have penetrated into some of its valleys, but it has no real popula tion, anid is unknown as much or more so than any other part of our country The mountain ranges lean down through it into the great interior bosom of the farther southwest, instead of breaking off, af i i i it 99 ,-I E0 iYONI) TIHE WEST. they do, abruptly oni the easterni side. Tile rivers Grand, White, G'een and the Genison, the head sources of'the great Colorado, dash furiously through it, often imprisoned in unapproachable canyons, then flow through wide and grassy valleys in the south. We hear of rich mines and ba,ins of broken and ruined mountains, of great conflicts of nature, and many a strong faith in ungotten wealth I have heard expressed as to this section; but it has yet to be explored; it has no fixed history. No doubt it is more broken, less interesting and less important than the middle and eastern divisions. The explorations now being made through this almost unknown land will add largely to our knowledge of wh'at it contains and how it is made up. This, by far the largest and most important industrial interest, has been referred to incidentally, only while rambling over the country, preferring to give you in one article, in a condensed form, my impressions and knowledge obtained while here.. 100 CIHAPTER XV. COLORADO'S MINING RESOURCES. As a mining country Colorado dates from 1.858. III the summer of that year a few prospecters from Kansas and Georgia explored the country up the Arkntsas river. When more than two hundred miiles from the nmountains they discovered in small quantities loose gold on some of the bars of the stream, increasing as they followed up the river. They explored the country around Pike's Peak, and found in some places gold in paying quantities; going northward, along the base of the mountains, finding the precious metal in different places, as far as the mouth of Cherry Creek, where Denver now is. Here they found it in larger quantity and of fi)e quality. These parties, returning in the'fall, gave publicity to their discoveries. Mole bills mag — nified into gold mountains. The excitemetlt spread rapidly over the country, and the next season a large emigration of Pike's Peadkers moved in that direction. Soon other rich developments were made, the excitement increased, and emigration moved rapidly towards the new Eldorado of the West. From that time to the present mining has been prosecuted with i I BEYOND THE WEST. vtLying success. Like rich mining countries every where, it has been the scene of extravagant hopes, a'id also the scene of extravagant disappointments. M ny7 have realized all or more than their best hopes, while others, and far the larger number, have been wonderfully disappointed. The country, however, has now lived through her most trying and precarious early existence. When wild speculation ruled supreme, everybody lived, or desired to do so, on their wits, instead of honest labor, to make their "pile," no matter how ruled the day. "Wherever God erects a house of prayer The devil always holds a chapel there, And'twill be found upon examination, The latter has the largest congregation." The people here are very much mixed. All tihe States, and every important place in them are represented, and all are engaged( in the same absorbi),g subject of conversation. Thie seat of empire, iii traveling to this country, changed its base from soul to money-getting. Gold before breakfast, tt breakfast and after breakfast, together witli a good show of blossom rock all day and specimens in the evening. I don't care if I do; I will take mine clear; I will have sugar inl mine. Mountain mining life, soon rubs off the veneering of good home ilflu ences, and we see of what materiMl menii are male. I 102 COLORADO'S MINING RESOURCES. There is a savage fascination in Rocky Mountain lite, in its isolation, l'wlessness and danger. The law of self-preservation is strong in the mountains. "Keep up your heart to-day, for to-morrow you may die," is the motto of a true mountain man. Sundays are as good as other days-no better. First that which is natural, then that which is spiritual." Miners and mountain men remember the Sabbath day only to keep it jolly; few even would send their cards to church, while they would not go themselves. This results from the migratory and unsettled character of the people away from the restraining and humanizing influence of home association. But she has lived through that uncertain era when "to be or not to be," was all unsolved problem. The loose surface washings of uncertainty have run off with uncertain and unskilled labor, and they are coming down to the "bed rock" of stability-more permanent prosperity. Central City, located in a narrow defile in the mountains, unshapely and straggling as if built to order and accidentally dropped between the close mountains' while being conveyed to its destination, is the center of mining. The most important developments have been made here, rich quartz leads were early discovered, together with some rich gulch mining, which gave the place at an early day! a large( I I I(,)3 BEYOND THE WEST. population and prosperity, aiid it is now nearly as large as Denver. The first mnills to crush quartz aInd work the ore were erected and put in operation here, anid they have continued work the most of the time, giving to their owners a liberal return for their mroney, some largely so. This place, Empire, and Georgetowii in South Clear Creek Valley, seem te be directly on the mineral quartz belt of this part of the mountains; richer and better paying leads have been found on this range than any other place in Colorado. Nearly all the stamp mills on this range are working, and more are being erected; after waiting for more efficient processes for reducig the ores, their owvle,rs hstve put them in operation, somewhat simplified, using more economy in their working. About one hundred and thirty mills are working, producing near forty-five thousand dollars gold per week, at a cost for mining and milling of about two-thirds. The discovery and opening of rich silver mines near Georgetown; imparted new confidence to miners and capitalists; mills are being built, and the place promises to be the most successful mining locality in the country; the head center of silver mining. The ores from the leading mines average from one hundred toeight hundred per ton. Two mills are now working at Georgetown on silver ores; o()ne works the second class ore, that which will i 104 COLORADO'S MINING RESOURcCErS. give about two hundred dollars a ton by stamping, and then amalgamating with quicksilver, at a cost of from sixty to seventy dollars per ton. The other, smelting works, in which to treat the higher grades of ore, at a cost of something over a hundred dollars a ton. This establishment buys most of the ore it reduces from the miners; either process save from seventy to ninety per cent. of the assay value of the ore. These processes, however, are so imperfect that some of the best ore is now sent east for treatment. The Equator mine is one of the prize mines here, and sends its highest grade ores all the way to Newark, N. J., for reduction. The superior yield obtained under the superior and economical managemenrt more than pays the freight, which is forty dollars per ton. Georgetown now has a population of about three thousand, and the best hotel in the country. It is one of the places that every tourist should visit; partly for its Silver miles, partly because the road to it up South Clear Creek is through one of the most interesting sections of the mountains, and partly that it is the starting point for the ascension of Gray's Peaks. The traveler can go up to the top of that mountain and back to Georgetown between breakfast and supper; and if he will not take lhis tour by the Stiake and BlIIue( Rivers to the ibid,!le of 105 BEYOND THE WEST. South Ptik, hI( should certainly mak thi, excursioD from Georgetown. Central City,li(d its neighbor hood are much less interesting to the mere pleasure traveler. That town, with four or five thousand inhabitants is crowded into a narrow gulch rather than a valley, torn with floods and dirty with the debris of mills and mines that spread themselves over everything. Scattered about in Boulder district, on the Snake, over on the Upper Arkansas, up among the gulches of the South Park hills, are a few more quartz mills, some in operation and others not; but the principal business of quartz mining is done in the sections I have named, in Gelpin and Clear Creek counties. Mill City, Empire, and Idaho are villages in this section, with their mines and mills, doing a little something, struggling to prove their capacity, but hardly in a single case making money; partly because of the poverty of the ore, but chiefly because it is refractory, and will not yield up its possessions to any known or reasonably cheap process. Time, patience, and cheaper labor wvill bring good results out of many of these investnlelnts, but others will have to go to swell the great number of failures that stand confessed all over this, as all over every other mining country. The other form of mining, known as gulch n~i;f;i,t 106 COLORADO' S MINING RESOURCES. or dirt washing, is increasing again, and has employed full three hundred meol this season. Fifty to seventy five of these are at work in Clear Creek and Boulder valleys; but the great body of them are scattered through Park, Lake, and Summit counties, on the Snake and other tributaries of the Blue River, on the Ut,per Platte in South Park, and on the Upper Arkansas and its side villeys. They have averaged twelve dollars a diay to a man; but the season for this kind of mining is less than half the year, in some places, because of ice and snow; in most for lack of water. The business is now resumed in a more systematic, intelligent, and economical way; labor is cheaper, miners are satisfied with more moderate returns, and there is hardly any limit to these valleys and banks under the hills and along the rivers, whose sides and gravel hold specks of gold in sufficient quantity to pay for washing over; but I pray it may never be done while I live to come to these m,ountains and parks, for gold washing leaves a terrible waste behind. In the granite district of the Upper Arkansas, quartz gold is found in simple combination, "free" as in California, which can be mined and reduced for eight to ten dollars a ton, while it yields from fifty to one hundred dollars; but these are ores from near the snrfaice, and it is yet a problem whether they 107 BEYOND THE WEST. will not change on going down in the veins, as in other Colorado mines, and become refractory and impossible of working at a profit, by any known pro. cess. There is apparently )o litnit, in fact, to the growth of the mineral wealth of Colorado, for the business is now taken hold of in the right way, pursued for the most part on strictly business principles, and every year must show improvements in the ways and means of mining and treating the ores. The mountains are just full of ores, holding filfteen to fifty dollars worth of the metals per ton, and the ()Ily question as to the amount to be got out, is one of labor and cost, as compared with the profits of other pursuits. Colorado has not been as great a placer mining country as California. Here quartz fiills must do the work; here quartz mines are more extensive and richer than those of California, less j'rt(e gold. Tblle great mountain deposits are almost unattached; whereas, in California free goid is found very extensively. Doubtless, all the detached gold found is derived from the disintegration of quartz leads. The mines of Colorado are very extensive and rich. What is needed most is some cheaper process by which to save the gold, and cheaper labor; together with properly organized companies, honestly and judiciously managed, will receive amnple return for the capital invested. I O'S COLORAI)OIS MINING RESOURCES. te several vtr' C,,ol t I(t s mi linig life, n from her minos a(-l shipped east, an ess than two millions of gold in any one om that up to eight and ten millions in With such results, under such circumo will presume to estimate the future is to flow from this country. hat quartz-crushing machinery processes late for the reduction of the rich ores here deposited and that capital is re down in the mines and bring up the t ures of the eternal hills, is now thoroughly The time is now at hand, since the of the railway, when these hills and illeys will amply reward labor and capital, the cherfutl gift of valuable shining Te munutains were found to be too valuable left for the exclusive -,cenpation of tlie e must give place to a more useful lifeintelligent labor. The fullness of time th them. The desirable, usefuil treasures on were not to be forever useless, their deposits forever unlocked. But Greece By Troy, and Rome Carthage, and the tionrs of the north, Rome, and they too , or be absorbed in their turn; if they Ir I I 109 I I i "I''Ll - - -I" 1- 11",114,.- -: -:I' , I "I 11, CHIIAPTER XVL AGRICULTURAL RESOURCES OF COLORADO. On my first visit to this country in i865, after extensive traveling over it, I came to the conclusion that this country was not by nature agricultural, and could not be made so, by the well applied labor of the husbandman. Then Denver stood naked on the plain, not even a lonely tree to shade it from the sun, neither a home garden, and the whole surrounding country one great barren waste, except for pasturage. But the almost wonderful change that had been made between my first and second visits, only a few short years, compelled me to quite change my first impressions. Extensive water ditches had been made from the mountains to the city, affording the best of water for the use of the place, and also for irrigating a large section of land between the city and the mountains, before almost worthless; but now there are large fields of grain ripening to the harvest, together with all the varieties of vegetables, defying in their large growth the before frowns of unreclaimed nature. Now shade trees (so necessary to comfort here,) are growing in their strength and beauty, and gardens and dooryards made green with I I i I I 1 1 BEYOND THE WEST. grass, and gardens filled with usefiul and necessary vegetables. As agriculture is the under stratum upon which all other interests rest-the "philosopher's stone," to which all must come for their very existence-I viewed this land's resurrection with unusual interest and pleasure. Colorado is so located as to form a substantial center in the grand constitutional formation of States; she contains to a large extent the stiffening of the continent. Located as she is in the center of the vast region, bounded by the Mississippi Valley on the east, the Pacific Ocean on the west, British America on the north, and Mexico on the south, the continental mountain ranges stand up here in their majestic proportions; spreading themselves round with a conscious greatness and a wantonness of power. Colorado's gold, silver, lead, zinc, iron and copper, are hid away under their huge shadows. They send forth fountains of the purest water, that forces itself in many directions through the interior of the continent. capable of supplying a wealth of agriculture in the valley and on the plain hardly to be anticipated. On the bottom lands, along the streams, grain and vegetables may be successfully grown without irrigation, of which the streams offer good facilities for successfull, remunerative farming, while the liig),,'r I I I I iI i I i 112 I AGRICULTURAL RESOURCES OF COLORADO. 113 !.,nds must be supplied with water during their summer growth, to insure a crop. Occasionally a good crop of grain, wheat, barley and oats can be harvested along the foothills without irrigation; th's only when the season is termed wet, and is uncertain. The bottom lands are a rich alluvial deposit, brought down from the mountains, and when properly cultivated will give an astonishing vegetable growth of the grains, except corn (the hot nights that corn loves are not felt here,) and succulent plants, in quantity and quality somewhat unusual for large growth and excellent quality. The higher lands or plains are composed of a coarse sandy loam, rich in phosphates, washed down from the mountains, and are but little used as yet, except for pasture. The agriculture along the base of the mountains north, between the Pacific Railroad at Cheyenne and Denver, is the development almost wholly of about two years, and is now nearly one half that of the whole State. South, in the Arkansas and Rio Grande valley, thie farming and the population are older, going back to before the gold discoveries. This is the Mexican section, and was formerly a part of New Mexico. Its agriculture is quite extensive, but con ducted indifferently and ol0 a rough scale, and it is only the remarkable fertility of the soil that permits I t I i BEYOND THE WEST. it to be profitable, for the people are indolent, ignorant and degraded Mexicans. The simple and eco nomical habits of these people, together with the productiveness of the soil, make them quite rich. Some of the large farmers are wealthy. Corn grows here, as the liights -ire warmer. I was told there had been raised here over 300 bushels to the acre. Colorado offers good inducements to the emigrant farmer. The Cache-a-la Paudre is the most northern valley of Colorado, and finds a market at Cheyenne; it has 200,000 acres of tillable lands, of which but comparatively little is yet in use; and its lands can be made very productive; is near a good market; hlolds out large inlucements for farming enterprise; well applied labor is most sure to be rewarded here, perhaps not more so than in many other places. As a grazing., stock-raising country, Colorado pre. sents unlimited advantages. Grasses are abundant on the mountain sides, in the valleys, all along and over the low ranges as they shade off down to the plains; the animals can roam at will, and a single man can tend a large herd. Nature does the haying, cures the grass standing in July and August, and animals not only live but fatten upon the dried grass in the low valleys during thie winter months. Most of the plains are not properly a worthless desert, but are nature's great continental pasture ground. I I 114 AGRICULTURAL RESOURCES OF COLORADO. 115 National and individual wealth will yet be found in the grazing capabilities of these plains, spread out as they are, from five to six hundred miles across, and about fifteen hundred miles in length, from Montana to Mexico. The time is now not far distant when the shepherd will be tending his flocks on the plains, and herds of cattle will take the place of nature's men, and the herds of buffalo which are their support. They will have no further occasion to extend their arms, in praise and gratitude to the Great Spirit in the sun, for the freedom of their existaece on this big clearing. The Indians are nowv the only hindrance to the easy and profitable farm inig business here. When the country can be made safe, as against their depredations, the energetic capitalist will find here a large field for his cattle and sheep, not literally upon a "thousand hills," but scattered over the extended and extensive plains; not only a source of wealth to him, but also to Colorado and the country at large. Though the red man has rights, which the white man's government is bound to respect, yet to allow him longer to hold possession of this otherwise profitable region would be a great sacrifice even for a Christian to make. CHAPTER XVII. THE CLIMATE OF COLORADO. Lifb is fresher to all after being lifted up here from five thousand to twelve thousand feet above sea level. I would say to Americans, come here and make a more familiar acquaintance with America, among the central ranges of the continental mountairis, the mountains in perfection and the mountains in ruin; in notorious great liberal parks with their wonderful and varied, bold, attractive beauty; in the wedded majestic rolling hills with m ajestic plain, under pure and unclothed skies, and in this ilivigorating atmosphere lies the pleasure ground and health giving home of the nation. The imposing influence on mind and body has no equal elsewhere. An atmosphere so pure that the eye seems to take in all space, and so dry and exhilarating that life dances at every pore. You go about as on easy wings, light-hearted, having partaken freely at the fountain of pure health, spread over these hills and plains by a liberal hand. Fresh meat cut in strips in summer, and whole quarters in'winter, and hung up), will cure without salting, so that it may be t,,ken to atly part of the globe without injury. I saw some I i THIE CLIMATE OF COLORADO. perisonis. supposed to be hopelessly consumptive, able only to travel in wagons, lying upon feather beds, who, after crossing the plains and living in the mounitains a while, recovered, so that they enjoyed a comfortable degree of health for years after. High regions and invigorating air, away from salt water, seems to be precisely what is needed. The climate varies with the altitude, and is salubrious and invigorating at any highlit; if it were not so, the gold hunter would have been more sadly disappointed, considering the labor and exposure to which he was-subjected. The settler here seldom suffers in acclimation, he will generally become rejuvenated-endowed with a new stock of constitutional vigor. Lung diseases, which in low countrv climates are so common and often so fatal, are almost surely cured ili this hitgh arid arid atmosphere. I was told that in some sections, it was so healthy that a man had to be killed to start a burying-ground. These mountain ranges send forth great fountain,s of health in exhilarating air, in natutre's great fountains of wonderful beauty.'They may indeed hold out inducements for all to come to them for wealth, for invigorating health, for relief and restoration. They may with propriety be called the Mother Mounta-ins. The climate of that portion lying east of the mountains is delightful and healthy. Thie frosts come I I i 117 BEYOND THE WEST. early in the autumn and conititiue fir into spring' but they are not severe. On the plains the snows are never sufficient to prevent cattle from thriving and fattening on the nutritious grass, dried up and cured, standing for fall and winter use. 1.18 CHAPTER XVIII. NEW MEXICO GENERALLY. This territory, containing about 122,000 square miles, three times larger than New England, was a part of Old Mexico previous to 1846; hence its name. At the close of the Mexican war, it came legally into the possession of our government. In 1848, at the settlement of the war, the Mexican title to the land was extinguished, and it came fully into the possession of the United States. Since then settlements have been (quite large as to agriculture, stockraising and mining. These interests are now growing large, but being so far inland, away from all the markets with the outer world, are restricted wholly to home demand, as it would not pay them to team their surplus eight hundred to a thousand miles away t(c a market; but when the Southern Pacific Railway shall be completed across this country, opening out to the farming interest a ready and profitable market, then it will present unusual advantages for settlement. The great Overland Stage Route, established by John Buiitterfield and others, across the continent, ran through this entire territory and fixed a line of i I I i ii i I i r I i BEYOND THE WEST. civilization, which has branched off to some extent through the country, fnd kept in various ways towards settlement. Thie seed thus planted is growing up into-the harvest. TV general surface of the country is uneven, badly b,()ken. The stupendous Rocky Mountain ranges tower up in all their cot,tinental magnificence, cross the territory from north to south, together with intersecting cross ranges, making some very interesting parks; the most noted of which is the San Louis, in the north part, rich in varied beauty and resources, and many remarkable features not characteristic of the other great parks further north. The mountain ranges make also many large and fertile valleys. The most important of these is the RioGrande,which is the principal stream of the territory, and is navigable in places for a distance of 1..80o miles; starting in a deep canyon, plowed out of the granite rock on the side of "Mount Lincoln," in the eternal snows of the central range, and crossing the whole tet ritory of New Mexico, from lor'tlh to south. You will recollect that it was along this river that the Mexican war commenced with the UnJited States, by conflicts between the Mexican army, under the command of General Ampudia and the army under General Taylor. i i i i i i I ..i 120 NE,W MEXICO GENERALLY. This valley is from one to fifteenl miles wide, is capable of supporting a population large enough for a small State. The bottom lands are remarkably productive; also the lowv sloping foot-hills, with a light gravelly soil, when irrigated and properly tilled, give a growth of almnost any crop put upon them, that will fill a mountain valley home with enough and to spare, with comparatively little labor, for both the soil and climate unite in a remarkable degree to assist those who turn its rich furrows to the sun, and put in the seed. As the season for vegetation is very long, often two crops are grown in one year from the same land. Vegetation through all this country makes a much more rapid growth than it does in the more northern States. As there is but little rain here during the year, scarcely no winter in the low valleys, and the almost constant sunshine, with a proper system of judicious irrigation, these valleys will produce, and can be depended upon like a hot-bed. But eleven years ago, this large territory was acquired by the United States. At that time the Ranchers cultivated the land on original principles, such as, I suppose, was used when "Adam delved with a hoe, remarkable only for its antedeluvian existence; a wooden plow made of a forked tree, such as was used on the plains of Syr-a, and in Persia, t I 121 BEYOND THE WEST. such as may now be seen in the Agricultural Hall at Albany, together with a wooden tooth drag, com pleted the implements of the most wealthy farmers. His farming tools showed no improvement upon those of his Aztec forefathers. Instead of our threshing machines, some of them were treading out their wheat with horses and oxen, as did the Israelites three thousand years ago; others were pounding it out with long clumsy poles upon the ground. At that time the country was occupied wholly by the low greaser Mexicans, who were jammed so full of the law of gravitation they could never get above the ground, a composition of negro and Mexican, and a few quarter civilized Indians more, that were as wild and ugly as some of their hunting grounds. New Mexican settlements have a remarkably old look. The adobe buildings, with small narrow windows, low doors and Hat roofs, suggest "The events Of old and wonderous times, Which dim tradition interruptedly teaches." About a hundred miles south-east of Santa Fe are saline lakes, or salt marshes, supplying the whole territory with salt; near them are found the ruins of a city, the remains of an aqueduct several miles long. walls of churches, Castilian coats of arms, probably a silver mining town destroyed two centuries 122 NEW MEXICO GENERALLY. ago, when the natives drove out or killed all the inhabitants. In the south-west corner, on the San Juan River, Colorado (then in Mexico) is found some remarkable ruins. One of these deserted human bee-hives was five hundred feet long, enclosed with a wall a foot thick, and thirty feet high, of solid stone, and six stories high. Nearly three hundred years ago Spanish Missionaries found in New Mexico Indians who raised cotton, manufactured cloth, and lived in towns with streets, having dwellings like the present Pueblos Indians. The founders of these towns were of that remarkable order, whose unflagging energy and4)erfect organization achieved such conquests over all that country. Remains of old Jesuit Missions are scattered through California, Arizona, New Mexico, Old Mexico, and Cential America. This vast region of country was converted to the old Roman faith, by life.long labor of this society, and not by the over-enthusiasm of Cortez and his robbers, who hurled the native idols to the ground, to replace them with the cross. The Santa Fe Cathedral is a high adobe edifice with effigies of the Saviour and the Virgin, with life-size paintings of these scenes hanging on the walls. In Taos there is a building of Indian origin, which 123 BEYOND THE WEST. tradition says was built three centuries ago. Tile streets, like those of Santa Fe and other places, are crooked and narrow, and like most townrs of the kind, are usually filled with "Mexican" car riages. The donkey, about as large as a yearling colt, serves for mule, horse, ox, cart and barouche. He staggers like a runaway hay stack, under immense loads of grass and corn-stalks. He brings from the mountains immense piles of wood for fuel. He transports baggage and provisions of all kinds, generally over the mountains and plains of the whole country; indeed he is the commercial thoroughfare every where. One man will pack a number of them, called a packing train, and transport, often heavy articles, hundreds of miles; but very few wheeled vehicles in the country, those few are owned by Americans. The Mexican has, from the first, carted all his crops from the field to his cabin on the backs of these little animals; few of them in their own country ever had a harness upon them. These small animals will take a load nearly as heavy as themselves over long mountain ranges, following each other, in Indian file, through the narrow trail, over most difficult and dangerous places, apparently with little fatigue. Their endurance is quite remarkable. The interior country is so destitute of wagon roads, that there is no other way by whicn trade can be carried ()I between the settlements. 124 NEW MEXICO GENERALLY. Here, at Taos, the celebrated mountaineer and guide settled to crown a youth of labor, with an age ot ease, at the age of fifty. His wife, an intelligent Spanish woman, with a family about him, he retired like many other great men, on his farm, pleasantly located on Taos River, a crystal mountain stream, where his numerous horses, mules and cattle would serve him thankfully for giving them so goad a home. He is a Kentuckian by birth, of most excellent natural abilities, but of very limited education; readi)g with difficulty, and writing very little beyond his owni name. However, he speaks several lapguages fluently; English, French, Spanish and several Indian tongues, acquired orally. His long life of many years, away fromin civilization, as hunter, trapper, and guide, had not deprived him of the natural insti nets of a gentieman; honorable and simple-hearted, beloved by Americans, Mexicans and Indians. When he guided General Fremont, on his long and perilous expeditions, he held a lieutenant's commission in our army. Hle was-made a Brigadier General of Volunteers during the rebellion, and after the war took command of a fort in New Mexico. But our people having gone there of late for the purpose of settlement, to become agriculturists, miners and traders, have introduced among these benighted people the implements of a better civilization, a higher standard of farm life. I i I I i I 125 II i I I. BEYOND THE WEST. The middle and southern portion of the territory contain large quantities of exceedingly rich land, adapted to the cultivation of cotton, sugar, tobacco, corn, sweet potatoes, peaches, fruit and vegetables, The soil and climate is such as to grow in perfection all that can be grown in the middle States; together with many of the tropical fruits. The north and the southseemto meet each other here in friendly em brace, neither of them appear to be strayed or stolen from their native homes. As soon as the country can be made safe to the settler and his property, as against the wandering tribes of Indians, few places offer more inducements for the emigrant than this, as to fertility of the soil and climate. Here he may select almost any of the different branches of farming, and if he does his part (not very well) he is sure to succeed beyond his first expectations. The red men here, who have a light sprinkling of higher life, live in communities, and cultivate the soil, raise remarkably good crops for their very limited knowledge, and equally limited means to do it with, or rather their squaws do it for them. These original inhabitants have been very hostile to settlers and miners, making life and property un, safe; driving from the country both Americans and M(xicans. But since it changed owners, military 126 NEW MEXICO GENERALLY. posts have been established in differents parts of the territory, restraining the red men, and giving better security to those who are there, and teaching the savages by some hard experiences, that they must conform to the new dispensation, or go to the hunting grounds of their mysterious medicine. The prin.,,ai damagetheyn ow do, is to run off stock, whichl can hardly be guarded sufficiently to prevent such thefts; however, there is but very little of it now, as compared with a few years ago, and soon, no doubt life and property will be safe in any part of the territory. The mining interests of New Mexico can hardly be overestimated. Various parts of the country have been prospected for the precious metals with good results. Rich placer diggings have been found in many places along the rivers and mountain streams, as yet imperfectly worked. Near the Placer Mountains the whole soil seems to be mixed with the precious metal, and it is believed by some, who have carefully exami'ned'this district, that if science and capital was brought to its development, it would be one of the richest gold producing regions in the world. Gold in quartz veins has been found in some of all the mountain ranges of the territory, in quantity and richness that will give large returns when pro i I I i i i i I I i I I 127 I its development, it would be one of the riche'st gold producing regions in the world. Gold in quartz veins has been found in some of all the mguntain ranges of the territory, in quantity and richness that will give large returns when pro BEYOND TIIE WEST. perly worked. Some of the mines have been in. differently worked at times for over two hundred years by the Spaniards and Mexicans. The Santa Rita Mines are known to halve been worked centuries ago. The precious metals, gold, silver, copper, iron and zinc, are known to be vely liberally distributed in large quantities over the country. Wherever they have been developed to any extent they have given evidence of richness and permanence, and the farther they have been sunken upon the more profitable they have been. In the mountains surrounding the old trading town of Santa Fe, where the miners were somewhat protected from the Indians, they have taken out large quantities of silver. There can be no doubt but that New Mexico will become one of the very best mining sections of this country. The climate favors work remarkably. Tile whole year is much more favorable to these interests here than farther noieth. The old people of Mexican towns look older than in any other country. There is a local proverb that this region is so healthy that the oldest inhabitants never die; but lean, attenuated and wrinIkled, like Egyptian mummies, dry up ultimately an(t ire blown away. The climate varies with the altitude, and is very I I I I i i i I I 4 128 i i I i i P,~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NEW MEXICO GENERALLY. healthful at any hight. Santa Fe, the capital and business metropolis, is situated on a plain, or rather in a great mountain bowl roof above the level of the sea, and has a delightful summer climate, and is the highest town in the United States of any importance, while the mountains near, whose peaks are always covered with sl{)w, rise to a hight of 1,200 feet. In the middle and southern portions of the territory the whole year is agreeable; the change of seas(:),s are not any more tlh.n is agreeable and congenial to health and comf)rt. Tihe sky is generally clear aInd the atmosphere dry. Pulmonary complaints are not known. The diseases are few; none but those ()ccasionally contracted by lyiiig too much out on t!le open ground in winter. Stock-raising here, as in Northern Texas, is the most profitable source of income, the whole country being adapted to this branch of husbandry. Very large flocks of sheep are raised, and also large nuttihers of mules, to supply the demand North for theim. Large portions of thie high plains, low hills and v. l leys are covered with nutritious grasses, sufficielnt for the p sturage of millions of animals the whole year, as they require )no more care in winter than in summer. i i i .i i 111,19 CHAPTER XIX. THE BUFFALOES. The buffaloes have been driven from the more central portions of the country north down here on the plains and in the valleys, where they have now congregated, as a last resort, more largely than in any other part of the country. Here they are at home; Nature's munificence supplies all their wants. Here life to them is a round of pleasure, as of old, while they grow large and fat for their butchers. They have here an immense country lying between the Rio Grande and Texas, and traversed by large mountains, intersected by cross ranges, little in habited, affording them better protection than any other place. Here they had their early buffalohood. The first authentic account we have of them is from this part of the country. Distant as it is from the sea, the adventurous Spaniards penetrated it at an early day. Coronado speaks of having traversed the country north of the Gila, occupied by the Puebla Indians, and pushed his way eastward beyond the Rio Grande to the country of the buffalo, and he is the first who speaks of that animal, which he calls "a I I i I i THE BUFFALOES. new kind of ox," wild and fierce, with which they supplied themselves with meat, and killed four score the first day. Here the destructive slaughter began, which has been followed up, age after age, till now they are congregated in a few somewhat out of the way places to await their sure destruction. Occasionally, when passinig over a mountain range, we would come unexpectedly upon a herd of these noble animals feeding in the valley, generally along a meandering mountain stream, where buffalo life seemed replete with happiness; some grazing, some lying down and sleeping, others having their buffalo plays, and still others rambling among the low, grassy foot-hills-altogether forming a landscape, when once seen, never to be forgotten. Here, alone in their glory, free from danger, (probably in their own estimation,) w\hl,e a party of men are on the ridge, stripping themselves and their horses of all uinecessary appendages which miight hinder their rtnning; hats and (,oats are taken off, ammunition pouches laid down, prepared cartridges placed in a ready pock. et, and guns loaded, the party mount their restless steeds and they start for the onset. The horses, accustomed to the business, appear to enter into the enthusiasm with as much spirit as the riders themselves, champing their bits, ears erect, eyes dancing in their heads, and fixed oin the game in the i I I II i 131 1BEYOND > T l,E W'FSJr. valley. When all are ready, the party Inove carefully and slowly down a long ravil)e to within a short distance of the unsuspecting herd before being discovered. This brought the party near their game, and the start was close. All seemed to fly over the extended bottom land in a cloud of dust, which was raised by their many hoofs. The party diashed along through the thundering, concentrated mass, as they swept away firom their view. I stretched my eyes in the direction where they had so suddenly disappeared, and nothing could be seen but the cloud of dust they had left behind them. The party did not follow the herd over a mile when they had killed a half dozen fat young cows, shot through the heart at full speed. This was all they could pack to the miner's camp, and was more than a supply for the time. They are seldom killed now faster than the meat is needed for present use, either by white men or Indians. Their scarcity and great utility in this country is beginning to be appreciated. "But, Monsieur Labordett, you promised to tell me about the buffalo hunt at'Missouri Lake."' ' That isn't much to tell. It war putty much like other buffalo hunts. Thar war a lot of us trap pers happened to be at Nez Perce and Flathead village in the fall, when they war going to kill winter meat, and as thur hlunt lay in the dire.tie)s we i, l32 THE BUFFALOES. war going, we joined in. The old Nez Perce chief, Kow-e-so-te, had command of the village, and we trappers hlad to, b y him, too. We started off slow; nobody war allowed to go ahead of camp. '4In this manner we caused the buffalo to move on before us, but not to be alarmed. We war eight or ten days traveling from the Beaverhead to MAissouri Lake, and by the time we got thar the whole plain around the lake war covered with buffalo, and it war a splendid sight! "In the morning the old chief harangued the men of his village, and ordered us all to get ready fior the surround. About nine o'clock every man war mounted, and we began to move. "That war a sight to make a man's blood warnm! A thousand men, all trained hunters, on horseback, carrying their guns, and, with their horses, ),finted in the highest of Indian fashi()n. WeV advanced until within about half a mile of the herd; then the chief ordered us to deploy to the right and left until the wings of the column extended a long way, and advanced again. "By this time the buffalo war all moving, and we had come within a hundred yards of them. Kow-eso-te then gave us the word and away we went pellmell. Heaven, what a charge! What a rushing and roaring! men shooting, buffalo bellowing and trampling until the eEarth -hoin,k uder them. I 133 .BEYOND) TilE WEST. "It war the work of an hour to slay two thousand, or perhaps three thousand animals. When the w,)Irk wr over we took a survey of the field. Hiere and there and everywhere layed the slain buffalo. Occasionally a horse with a broken leg war seer, or a man with a broken arm, or maybe he had fiied worse and had a broken head. "Now came out the women of the village to help us butcher and pack up the meat. It war a bi, job, but we were not long about it. By night the camp war full of meat and everybody merry. Bridger's camp, which war passing that way, traded with the village for fifteen hundred buffalo tongues, the tongues being reckoned a choice part of the animal. And that is the way we helped the Nez Perces hunt buffalo." "But when you were hunting for your own subslstence in camp you sometimes went out in small parties." "Oh! yes, it war the same thiig on a smaller scale. One time Kit Carson arid myself and a little Frenchman named Marteau, went to run buffalo on Powder River. When we come in sight of the band it war agreed that Kit and the Frenchman should do the runniing and I should stay with the pack mules. The weather war very cold, and I did not like my part of the duty much. i I I 1-34 TIlE BUFFALOES. ' The Frenchman's horse couldn't run, so I lent him mine. Kit rode his own; not a good buffalo horse either. In running, my horse fell with the Frenchlman and nearly killed him. Kit, who couldn't make his horse catch, jumped off and caught mine and tried it again. This time he came up with the band and killed four fat cows. ' When I came up with the pack mules I asked Kit how he came by my horse. He explained, and wanted to know if I had seen anything of Marteau; said my horse had fallen with him, and, he thought, killed him.' You go over the other side of yon hill and see,' said Kit. "What'll I do with him if he is dead," said I. "Can't you pack him to camp." "Pack h-l, said I. I should rather pack a load of meat." Waal," said Kit, " I'll butcher if you'll go over atid see, anyhow." "So I went over and found the dead man learing his head on his hand and groaning: for he war pretty bad hurt. I got him on his horse, though, after a while, and took him back where Kit war at work. "We soon finished the butchering job and started back to camp with ouT wounded Frenchman and three loads of tat meat." I I I i 1 i i I ii I i It 135 BEYOND THE WEST. "You were not very compassionate towards each other in the mountains.' "That war not our business. We had no time for such things. Besides, live men war what we wanted; dead ones war of no account." It would often seem to me that live men were also of little accouit, by the wanton recklessness with which it was often taken. To the unsophisticated, the savage way by which real or imaginary injuries were redressed often by these veterans of the mountains, would freeze up any warm, sympathetic heart. These men get so in the habit of killing that it seems but little to them whether a man or a buffalo is killed. It is the object of mountain men to keep their hearts "big," and not to remember the miserable fate of some of their comrades. While meditating one day upon the certain fate that awaits the buffaloes, I strolled unconsciously away and wrote thus: "It is generally supposed and familiarly said that a man falls into a reverie; but I seated myself in a shade a few minutes and resolved to force myself into one, and for this purpose I laid open a small pocket map of North America, and excluding my thoughts from every other object in the world, I s(,on succeeded in producing the desired illusion. This little chart over which I benit was seen in all its parts, I I 136 m?T-'h-,-Th -_ _ BUFFALO IIUNT. 4 'IT, THE BUFFALOES. as nothing but the green and vivid reality. I was lifted up as upon all imaginary pair of wings, which easily raised and held me floating in the air, from whence I could behold beneath me the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans, the great cities of the East, and the mighty rivers. I could see the blue chain of the great lakes at the North, the Rocky Mountains, and beneath them, and near their base, the vast and almost boundless plains of grass, which were speckled with the grazing bands of buffaloes." "The world turned gently round and I examined its surface. Continent after continent passed under my eye, and yet, amidst them all, I saw not the vivid green that is spread like a carpet over the Western wilds of nmy own country. I saw not elsewhere in the world the myriad herds of buffaloesmy eyes scanned in vain, for they-were not-a)and when I turned again to tbe wilds of my native land, I beheld them all in motion! For the distance of several hundred miles from north to south they were wheeling about in vast columns and herds. Some were scattered aid ran with furious wildness; others lay.dead; others were pawing the earth for a hiding place; some were sinking down and dying, gushing out their life in deep-drawn si'ghs; and others were contending in furious battle for the life they possessed and the grfound they stood upion. They had long since as I I I 137 BEYOND TIIE WEST. sembled from the thickets and the secret haunts ol the deep forest into the treeless and boundless plains, as the place for their safety. I could see in an hundred places, amid the wheeling bands,- and on their skirts and flanks, the leaping wild horse darting among them. I saw not the arrows, nor heard the twang of the sinew-bows that sent them, but I saw their victims fall; on other steeds that rushtled along their sides, I saw the glistening lances which seemed to lay across them I Their blades were blazing in the sun, till dipped in blood, and then I lost them. In other parts (and there were many) the vivid flash of fire-arms was seen; their victims fell, too, and over their dead bodies hung, suspended in air, little clouds of whitened smoke, fromn under which the flying horsemen had darted forward to mingle again with and deal death to the trampling throng." "So strangely were men mixed (both white and red) with the countless herds that wheeled and eddied about, that all below seemed one vast extended field of battle. Whole armies, in some places, seemed to blacken the earth's surface; in other places regiments, battalions, wings, platoons, rank and file and "Indian file," all were in motion, and death and destruction seemed to be the watchvord amongst them. In their turmoil they sent up I I 138 THE BUFFALOES. great clouds of dust, and with them came the mingled din of groans and trampling hioofs, that seemed like the rumbling of a dreadful cataract or the roaring of distant thunder. Alternate pity and admiration harrowed up in my bosom and in my brain ma'ry a hidden thought, and amongst them a few of the beautiful notes that were once sung a.d exactly in point. Quadrupedante putrum sonitu quatit ungula campurn. Even such was the diii of these quadrupeds of these vast plains. Arnd from the craggy cliffs of the Rocky Mountains were seen descending itito the valley the myriad Tartars who had not horses to ride, but before their well-drawn bows the fattest of the herd were falling. Hundreds and thousands were strewn upon the plains; they were fla-tyed, and their reddened carcasses left, and about theIn bands of wolves and dogs and buzzards were seen devouring them. Contiguous, and in sight, was the distant and feeble smoke of wigwams and villages, where the skins were dragged and dressed for white meii's luxury! where they were all sold tor whisky, and the poor Indians laid drunk and were cryilig. I cast my eyes into the towns and cities of the, East, and there I beheld buffalo robes hanging at almnost every door for traffic; and I saw also the curli,g smoke of a thousand stills, and I said, Oh! insatiable man, is thy awvarice suclh? wouldst thou 13',l I BEYOND THE WEST. tear the skin from the back of the last animal of this noble race, and rob thy fellow man of his meat, and for it give him poison?" It is rathe — a melancholy contemplation for one who has traveled in these realtns7 seen, and can appreciate, these very useful, noble animals in all their pride and glory, once spread over the country from the Atlantic Ocean to the Rocky Mountains, now congregated in the oniy place left on the continent for them, and there rapidly wasting away; we must come to the irresistible conclusion that its species is soon to be extinguished. I imagined that if it were possible for some protecting power of government to preserve in their pristine beauty, and wildness, in a magnificent park-one of those of which we have spoken-where the world could see, for ages to come, the buffalo and his joint tenant. the Indian, in his wild attire, on his native pony, with bow and lance, galloping -amid a herd of elk, buffalo and antelope, what beautiful and interesting specimens of the native aInimals they would be for America to preserve in one of the great national parks here in the mountains, where her refined (itizens, and the world in future ages, might view with delight both man'and animal, in all the wildness of their native beauty. It is not a pleasant thought to anticipate the pe. 4h 140 THE BUFFALOES. distant, when the last of the e the inmprovident rapacity of en, leaving mluch of their new )cked ald ud )peopled for future alo' is heavy, full of clumsiness he antipo(des of the incarnate e swift moving antelope, they ntrast; especially so when seen stick their ramrods in the chief on it and' then secrete nsuspecting antelope, with a other Eve, circles nearer and y the well directed bullet. No armarkable curiosity than this; ill run rapidly off and then come tuainrtance of those by whom The wolves are said to chase enabling a fresh putrsuer to weary one every time they pass eetness falls a victim to cune soon furnishes a meal for the n nlng, an tne anelopt + hlungry pack. I i' I.... I l t 1 I I I - i I I I 141 I I i i Ii CHAPTER XX. ARIZONA-BOUNDARIES EARI,Y HISTORY- PHYSICAL ASPECTS-AGRICULTURAL AND MINERAL RESOURCES. This is among the oldest settled countries on the Pacific slope. Less is known of Arizona and the neig,hboring State of Sonora than any other portion of our South-Western Territories. It is bounded on the north by Nevada and Utah, on the east by New Mexico, and on the west by the Colorado River, which separates it from California, and embraces an area of nearly 121,000 square miles. Arizona, to be properly appreciated, must be considered as a whole; known as the " Gasden Purchase," or as the Colorado River District, gives but a very limited idea of its territory; which is necessary to a proper understanding of its varied and extensive capabilities, and to a proper appreciation of its prospects. The early history of this territory is that of Old Mexico; settlements were made along the Gila River and in some other places by the Jesuit Missionaries from the lower provinces in 1687 Many towns were established and settled quite rapidly. The reports of the rich mineral wealth of the new country, cauiied for the time a large emigration. Tn 1710 re I I ARIZONA. newed discoveries were made and consequent in. crease of population. Then began a more general conquest of the country, both by the Jesuits and the Spanish Government. They continued to occupy the territory up to 1757, when their enslavement of the natives became so oppressive and cruel, that the Apache Indians, together with some of their more northern wilder neighbors, rebelled against their cruel task-masters, and killed and drove from the country all the other inhabitants. From that time till it was purchased by the United States, settlement was very limited on account of these unfriendly natives, as life and property had no protection in the country. Civilization of course disappeared, and at the time of the purchase the territory contained scarcely any white population. The remains of that civilization may be seen in deserted ranches and adobe houses in towns and villages, in a system of agriculture and mining. We now find about the country the early footsteps of that higher civilization which is now to spread itself over that country to stay, and bring to life and usefulness the locked up treasures of the mountains, and make the valleys bring forth abundantly for the use of all. I The territory is quite accessible from Los Angelos, on the Pacific coast, across California, and is re i II I i II 143 i I i i if i i ii i i i iII iI i I i i ii II i i I i I 1i i I i II i i I i BE,YO(-)ND TIlE WEST. markably well timbered and watered. The upper branches of the Colorado penetrate the whole northern portion, while the Gila River with its several large branches extends through the southern part, giving unusually fine advantages for cultivating the soil and stock-raising. The settlements here are largely Mexican; having been mostly made since the U,ited States acquired the territory, and as the lands are owned under American title many of them are becoming thorough ly Americanized, exhibit better traits of character, more industrious, better behaved and show strong symptoms of constitutional and mental improvement. When these people, inferior physically and mentally, come in contact and live with our people, they readily adapt themselves to the improved conditions of life With which they find themselves surrounded. Quite a large emigration from the Pacific coast, mostly from California, is centering here mostly for mining purposes; but many intend a permanent settlement, believing the country as a whole combined as much or more real advantages than any other, having the soil and climate of the southern portion of California. When it shall have railroad advantages with San Francisco and the East, and become entirely safe as against Indian depredations, those coming here as tillers of the soil. iniiiers,ir i i I I 1 1 i I i i I 144 i i i i i II I i I i I i i iii t I I I i i I Ii ARIZONA. tradeis' will never regret the choice they htve made. It is supposed) and I believe correctly, that the Rio Grande valley offers settlemenrt to 50,0,00 people, within the Arizona boundaries. West of this the country is broken, a sucession of table lands moderately ascend(ling for nearly a hundred miles to the Sierra Madre Mountains; {rotn there gently descendinrg until they reach the Gulf of Cati fornia-about 500 miles. The country south of the Gila River has two well defined ranges of mountains, known as the Chir aca-heei and Santa Rita. They, are the prolongati,n of those r,inges wshich lhave yielded silver so largely, northward in Nevada atid extend southward in So) nora, Chihunihua and Durang, which have givel millions of silver for centuries past to astonish tile world by their massive returns of the precious ores. Arizona has now beei prospected and developed( sufficiently to prove, beyond a peradventure. tlhtt her mines of gold, silver and copper are extensive, eligibly located, well defined, and as far as worked, exceedingly rich. They are mostly found in regular formation of trap and porphyritic rocks, and undisturbed by volcanic,action. The ores are more easily worked than in some other places, and can be more inexpensively reduced. Silver is never found detached like gold, but is found only in the original -'I'll I. —- -I... t I I I i I 'I I I i i I I 'i II I II II 'i i 1416 i BEYOND THE WEST. quartz-lead formation. Experienced miiners and skilled metallurgists,who had examined portiones of the mining region, were confident that mines would be found here richer and more extensive than they have been found in Nevada, with better facilities for working them. Some very good placer mining was discovered in 1863, and some considerable free gold washed out. Enough has already been mined, and different sections prospected, to make it certain that thisbranch of mining will be no small business of the country. Irrigation, as in the country north and east, is necessary to agriculture. The bottom lands are fertile and will compare favorably with the best anywhere. The season for cultivation is long; indeed, it is nearly the whole year. Fruits blossom in February and March, and nature generally is in her summer costume. Cotton, wheat, corn, barley, tobacco, grapes, peaches, and all the variety of vegetables grow and yield largely. There is a native Mexican grape here, grown largely in the Rio Grande valley, wv.hich has few superiors anywhere, arid is introduced largely in California both for home use and for wine. R. C. McCormick, Secretary of the Territory, after traveling over the country extensively, speaks of its agricultural capabilities in the following language: i I II I I I I I i, I i I II I i I 1.46 ARIZONA. "' While it has much barren and desolate country, I undertake to say that no mineral region belonging to the United States-not excepting California has, in proportion to its extent, more arable, pas. ture, and timber lands. Those who have asserted to the contrary have been either superficial and limited in their observations, or wilfully inaccurate in their statements." All that portion of Arizona lying above the Gila River has a delightful climate. (Below the heat is oppressive in summer.) Never excessively hot, with moderately cool summer nights, it offers more inducements to those who desire more genial skies than those of the North and East. Snow never lies in winter and seldom falls. Frost is unusual, though the nights are sometimes quite cold, but not freezing. The climate is nearly that of the lower portion of California. Being farther inland, there is less humidity in the air passing over it; but the breezes, sweeping inland from the Pacific coast, cools the summier heat and makes it warmer in winter, impartinig to it largely the climate of the former, of which you have heard so much, if never enjoyed. That my readers may have a fuller understanding of the relative advantages of different sections of the territory, I have thought proper to speak of it, I i I i 147 BE Y E()ND THE WEST. as the Territorial Legislature organized and divide(] it into four counties, naming them after four lea(]ing tribes of Indians residing within its boundaries. As the Secretary, of whom I have spoken, has given a more accurate description than I could hope to make, I give it ini his own language: PIMA COUNTY. This county is bounded on the east by the line ot the Territory of New Mexico; on the north by the middle of the main channel of the Gila River; on the west by the line of 113 deg. 20 min. west longitude, and on the south by the Sonora line. The seat of justice is established at Tucson. Pima County embraces all of "the Gadsden Purchase" within the territorial lines, excepting the small portion west of 113 deg. 20 min. west longi tude, which is in Yuma County, and is the best knowi portion of Arizona. This comes from its early settlement, the development of its mines, and the extensive travel through its length during the running of the Southern or Butterfield Overland Mail. Its silver mines are among the richest upon the continent. Some of them have been worked for centuries, and if they have not constantly yielded a large return, it has been niore from a lack of prudexit mttitiagerment or the incursions of hlostile Indiaiis, f I i i I 148 ARIZONA. than from any defect in the quality or quantity of the ore, or in the facilities for extracting and working the same. The ores are chiefly argenrtiferous galena, and are best adapted to smnelting. Tile copper mines of Pima County are surprisingly rich, yielding in some instances as high as ninety per cent. of pure copper. The ores are chiefly red oxydes and gray sulphurets. Wood and water, if not immediately at hand, m-,y usually be had at a convenient distance. The S.rinta Rita Mountains have fine pine forests, and between Tubac and San Xavier is a timber district some miles in width, extending from the Santa Cruz River to the base of the mountains. The timber is rmesquit, and of a large size; for railroads and mining purposes it is well adapted, and must be of incalcula,le v.ilue; for building purposes it is too hard and crooked. Thie cotton word is foiiuid on the margin of all streams; it is of rapid growth, and well adapted for building. The adobe, or sunburnt brick, is, h(,wever, t-he favorite building material. It is easily and inexpensively made, and, laid in thick walls, furnishes an enduring and comfortable house, better suited to tie climate thatl any other. The agricultural and pasture lands of Pima County are very extensive. The valleys of thie Gila, the. Santa Cruz, the San Pedro, and other strearlis, are I I 149 BEYOND THE WEST. exte1,,sive(, and equal in fertility to a,ny agricultural districts of the ULited States. The San Pedro valley, over one hundred miles in length, is, perhaps, the best farminig district south of the Gila River. The Sonsita valley, which opens into the Sanr.a Cruz near Calabaras, is some fifty miles long. In each of these valleys there is an abundance of water for irrigation, and both whites and Indians have raised large crops with little labor. The table lat)ds of Pima County are covered with a short and luxurious grass, upon which immerse herds of cattle have been and still may be raised; and the grazing districts include many of the mountain ravines as well as the lesser hills, where gramura grass is found in abundance, and which is greedily eaten by horses, mules, sheep, and horned cattle. This grass is very nutritious, and even when dry and parched by the summer heat, is eagerly sought after by the animals. Tucson, the principal settlement of Pima County, is in the Santa Cruz valley. It was a prominent station upon the Butterfield route. Of late years it has beei miuch improved, and the recent opening of several rich mines in close proximity to the towii, will give it increased business and importance. Its po)pulattion is largely Spanish, an(l the samne tiiay be said of' all the settleme'its in thlis c,(llnty. Other i i I i i ii i I Ii i 150 ARIZONA. towns in the mining districts south of Tucton and Tubac, and on the Gila River, are becoming of consequence as the agricultural and mineral development of the country progresses. Their growth is somewhat retarded, as is the prosperity of the whole country, for the want of an American port upon the Gulf of California, by which iJoute goods and machinery might be speedily and economically received. The great oversight of the United States in the failure to acquire such a port when it might have been had without difficulty or expense, is keenly and constantly deplored; and it is the hope of every one living in or interested in Southern Arizona, that our government will, by negotiation (if comin)g events do not afford other means,) soon secure either the port of Libertad or Guaymas, or both. Indeed, the geographical relations of the State of Sonora to Arizona, and our access to the Pacific, are such that its acquisition seems little less than a matter of duty. From Libertad, it is but one hundred and fifty miles to the mining regions of the lower portions of Pima County; and from Guaymas, the distance is about three hundred miles; both roads are easy, and supplied with grass and water. The transportation of mining supplies from Los Angelos or Fort Yuma, as is now necessary in order to escape the heavy duties imposed in Sonora, although entirely practicable, I i I i i 151 BEYO.ND THE WEST. involves mtach mrore o(verl(,t1d travel, and consequently incereased delay and exCper)se. YUMA COUNNY. This county is bounded 0on the east by the line of 113 deg. 20 min. west longitude, on the north by the middle of the main stream of the Santa Maria, to its juI,ctionr with Williams' Fork; thence by the middle of the main channel of said stream to the junction of the Coloracio River; on the west by the main channel of the Colorado, and on the south by the Sonora line. The seat of justice is established at La Paz. Of the two counties upon the Colorado, (Yuma and Moiave,) this has at present the largest population. Until 1862, it was comparatively utiknown for any distanc'e above Fort Yuma; indeed, the Colorado had barely been explored. The discovery in 1858, of gold on the Gila River, about 20 miles from its junction with the Colorado, attracted considerable attention, and prompted the laying out Gila City; but it was not until 1862 that emigration started up the Colorado. At that date the finding of rich placers at Chimney Peak, 20 miles above Fort Yuma, and at various points from 8 to 20 miles back of the site of the present town of La Paz, 110 miles from the fort, drew a large number of mi I 1, 152 ARIZONA. 153 rers aind pr(specters from California and Sonora. The subsequent discovery of multitudinous silver and copper mines upon and adjacent to the river, in what are now known as the Yuma, Castle Dome, Sil ver, Eureka, Weaver, Chimehuiva, and La Paz min ing districts; and the opening in 1863 of the interior country (Central Arizona,) have given it an activity and importance second to that of no portion of the Territory..x \ its settlements are all upon the river. La Paz, the chief of these, is a busy commercial town of adobe buildings, with a population about equally American and Spanish. It has some stores tlalt would not do discredit to San Francisco, and enjoys a large trade, extending up and down the river and to Central Arizona. Castle Dome, Mineral City, and Olive City, all upon the CO)lorad (o, between Fort Yama and La Paz, are mining towns yet small, but destined to become of consequence as the depots of mining districts of great richness, which cannot long remain undeveloped. The s'lver ores of Yuma County are mostly argentiferous galena. Those of Castle Dome district, 40 miles above Fort Yuma, according to Prof. Blake, are found in a vein stone of fluor spar. The same authority reports the copper ores as nearly all containing silver and gold; some of which give forty per cent. of copper yield at the rate of sixty ounces of silver to the ton. 6 I i I I BEYOND TIIE WEST. A quicksilver mine discovered near La PI,z is at tracting considerable attention in San Francisco. The fa-ce of Yuma County is for the most part mnountainous and barren, although the Colorado bot tom, and occasional valleys, are fertile, and the India)', h-,v,' fine crops. Wood sufficient for fuel and for present miniling operations is found in the mountain ravines and along the streams. A main highway from the Colorado to Central Arizona starts from La Paz, and is one of the smoothest natural roads I have ever seen. Its course to the Hassayampa River (110 miles,) is almost an air-line, and in the whole distance there is nothing to obstruct the passage of the frailest vehicle or of the heaviest train. It lacks a sufficiency of water and of grass for animals, and a company chartered by the Legis. lature is taking steps to provide wells and feeding stations. The road will connect at La Paz with that from San Bernardino, which is smooth, with but lit tle sand, and aiready provided with tainks and sta tions. The whole distance from San Bernardino tr) Prescott, the capital of the Territory, is less than 350 miles. Emigrants from California to Central Arizona travel by these roads, or by those of about the same length from San Bernardino to Fort Mojave, and from there to Prescott. Sixty miles from La Paz, on the road to Prescott I ARIZONA. are the Hlarcuvar Mountains, which contain numerous valuable copper lodes, and the Penhatchapet Mountains, wherein very rich gold quartz has been found. MOJAVE COUNTY. This county is bounded on the east by the linle of 113 deg. 20 miD. west longitude; on the north by the parrallel of 37 deg. north latitude; on the west by the line of the State of California and the middle of the main channel of the Colorado River, and on the south by Williams' Fork and the main channel of the Santa Maria River above its junction with the latter stream. The seat of justice is established at Mojave City. This county lies directly north of Yuma County and is of the same general character. Ascending the Colorado, the first point of interest is Williams' Fork, the southern line of the county. It is the largest tributary of the Colorado, and has its rise in the interior country almost as far east as Prescott. It is not navigable, but usually has a good body of water. Some of the richest copper mines in the territory are neair to its banks, and have already been extensively and profitably worked. Quantities of the ore sent to Swansea have given a larger return than was expected, and it is clevtrly demonstrated that it will pay to ship to that place, or to Boston, if reduction works cannIot be reached at' nearer poiiit. i 155 0 BEYOND THiE WEST. A road along Williams' Fork and its tributary, the Santa Matria, leads to Prescott, but it will need cotnsiderable work to be made popular' A company was chartered by the Legislature to improve it. In the opinion of Capt. Walker, the veteran pioneer of Central Arizona, and of others, the junction of Williams' Fotrk and the Colorado is the natural and best point for a large town or city; and a town named Aubry has been laid out there. Fort Mojave, upon the Colorado, 160 miles above La Paz, is a noted point, and one of the longest occupied in the territory by the whites. Within a mile of the fort is Mojave City, a sprightly town laid out and chiefly built by the California volunteers stationed at the fort for two or three years past. There are some good agricultural lands in the vicinity, and gardens abound. The visit of the chief of the Mojave Indians (Ireteba) to New York and Washington in 1863-'4, gave him such an exalted opinion of the white man and the power of tte Gei' eral Government, that he has not ceased to urge his people to the most friendly relations, and to habits of industry and enterprise. At Mojaye, as at La Paz and Fort Yuma, there is a well-regulated ferry across the Colorado, with scows calculated to convey wagons and stock. Hardyville, nine miles above Mojave, upon the t56 ARIZONA. lorado, is a young, but active and hopeful settlent. It has a large trade from the quartz mining tricts around it, and even from the Wauba Yuma trict, 40 miles in the interior, and from Prescott, capital, 160 miles inland. Recently the Utah people have flocked to Hardye for their annual supplies, finding it much easier n to go, as heretofore, to San Bernardino and Los gelos. The mines of the several districts contiguous to jave and Hardyville, and of Eldorado Canon, 60 es further up the river, are among the most noted 1 promising in the newly-known portions of Ariza. The ledges are many of them very large; t ores, both of gold and silver, the latter predomiting, are surprisingly rich. Considerable money already been expended in opening the lodes; or two mills are in operation, and others are concted for. Immediately upon the river there is a drth of wood, but a supply may be had from the Sramento and Wauba Yuma districts, and from the gas, 30 miles north of El Dorado Canon, or from Buckskin Mountains, 100 miles north. Rafted don the river, it would cost but little more than for cutting. Some mountains 60 miles above El Do ro Canon, and within six miles of the river, contain t in beautiful transparent crystals, and of the finest ality. ___ __ j I II I I I i I .1 I I i I I I I I i I I I 157 I i i i I i' i i i i I i i i i i i I Ii qti i 158 BEYOND THE WEST. The navigation of the Colorado above E1 Dorado Canon has only been attempted (excepting by Ives) since the Mormon trade began to attract attention and to assume importance. It has been ascertained by trial that steamboats may ascend at all seasons to a point 100 miles north of Ilardyville, and less than 400 miles from Great Salt Like City, by a road over which goods may be hauled without difficulty. At this point upon the river, a town named Callville is just begun. It will be the depot for Utah, and of course more convenient than Hardyville. Callvillf is but a little more than 100 miles south of St. George, a thrifty Mormon town close upon the Arizona line, if not within the Territory, and from which place, and the fertile district about it, supplies of cheese, but ter, vegetables and fruit, have already found their way to the mining districts of El Dorado Canon, Hardyville and Mojave. The Colorado is the largest river between the Mississippi and the Pacific, and the only navigable stream in Arizona. Its position between the Territory and California, its connection with the Gulf anid the Pacific, the vast mineral wealth of its banks, and the important trade of Arizona and Utah, make it a most valuable highway, and one to the navigation of which careful attention should be given. With a constantly changing channel, a swift current, and a bed of f iI I I I I I I I I i II i I ARIZONA. 159 | .,.,I quicksand, it requires experience, patience and skill, to conduct the steamers with safety. These are necessarily of light draft, and limited accommodation tor freight. It is believed that those now in use may, by remodeling, be greatly improved in speed and capacity, and that freight may be delivered at much less cost of time and money than is now required. In the upper part of the river are a few obstructions, for the removal of which a small appropriation has been asked from Congress. The present rates of freight are from two to three cents per pound from San Francisco, to towns as high up the river as La Paz, and four cents to Hardyville; probably six to Callville. Ore is carried to San Francisco for from $20 to $25 per ton. This is considerably cheaper than transportation can be had by the roads across California. As yet there is only an irregular line of sailing vessels from San Francisco to the mouth of Colorado, (one hundred miles below Fort Puma,) and upon an average three weeks are consumed in making the voyage. With a line of propellers, as projected, this time might be be reduced to a week or ten days. YAVAPAI COUNTY. This county is bounded on the east by the line of the Territory of New Mexico; on the north by the I I I 1 i i i i i II i I I I II i i i I i BEYOND THE WEST. parallel of 37 deg. north latitude; on the west by the line of 113 deg. 20 mi. west longitude, and on the south by the middle of the main channel of the Gila River. The seat of justice is established at Prescott, which is also the capital of the Territory. Yavapai County embraces a part of Arizona as yet unknown to the map makers, and in which the Territorial officers arrived hard upon the heels of the first white inhabitants. Until 1863, saving for a short distance above the Gila, it was even to the daring trapper and adventursomno gold-seeker a terra incognita, although one of the richest mineral, agricultural, grazing and timber divisions of the Territory, and abundantly supplied with game. Yavapai County is nearly as large as the State of New York. The Verde and Salinas Rivers, tributaries of the Gila, which run through its centre, abound in evidences of a former civilization. ilere are the most externsive and impressive ruins to be found in the Territory-relics of cities, of aqueducts, acequias and canals; of mining and farming operations, and of other employments, indicating an industrious and enterprising people. Mr. Bartlett refers to these ruins as traditionally reported to him, to show the extent of the agricultural population formerly supported here, as well as to furnish an argumtnent to sustain the opinion that this is olie of the nmost desirable po-i i I i II i i i i i I i i i i L60 i i ii i I i i i i ti i i i I I I i i 1 I i I i I i i II I ARIZONA. tions for an agriculttrral settlement of any between thle Rio Grande and the Colorado. The same au tlhority says a district north of and immediately con tiguous to'the Gila River is, par excellence, the finest agricultural district in our territories lying iti the same latitude, between Eastern Texas and the Pa cific-for the great extent and richness of the soil; the abundance and excellence of the water; the cot tonwood timber for building purposes; the fine quar ries of stone in the adjacent hills, and for the facili ty with which it may be approached from every quarter. The district in question lies at the junction, and in a measure forms the delta of the Salinas and Gila Rivers. It lies but a little above the bed of the river, and might be, in consequence, easily irrigated. The arable bottom land is from two to four miles in width, and is overgrown with mesquit; while on the river's margin grow large cottonwoods. The river is from eighty to one hundred and twenty feet wide, from two to four feet deep, and both rapid and clear. I these respects it differs from the Gila, which is sli ggish and muddy for two hundred miles. A portion of the Gila valley is occupied by two tribes of Indians, noted for their good traits-the Pimas and Maricopas. The lands cultivated extend from sixteen to twenty miles along the river, center i-. I i I i I i II II I I i I I I 1, 161 I BEYOND THE WEST. ing at the Pima villages. Irrigating canals conduct the water of the Gila over all the district. The Indians raise wheat, corn, millet, beans, pumpkins and melons, in great abundance. They also'raise a superior quality of cotton, from which they spin and weave their own garments. There is a steam grist mill at the,Pima villages, and a large quantity of excellent flour is annually made. I have no doubt that the Gila bottoms alone afford arable land sufficient to raise food for a densely-populated State. But these are by no means all of the agricultural lands of Yavapai County. The Val de Chino, so called by Whipple, where Fort Whipple was first established, and the territorial officers first halted, is nearly one hundred miles in length, and abounds in tillable and pastural lands. The valley of the Little Colorado, on the 35th parallel, is large and well adapted to cultivation. There are numerous other valleys near to Prescott, and the road from the Colorado River, via Mojave and Hardyville, to that place, is described by a recent traveler as being "for over a hundred miles of the way a prairie country that would compare with the best in the world for grazing, and with most of the Western States for agriculture." In timber lands Yavapai County exceeds all others in the territory. Beginning some miles south i iI i I II il i i i I I i L62 ARIZONA. of Prescott, and running north of the San Francisco Mfoutain, is a forest of yellow pine, interspersed with oak, sufficient to supply all the timber for building material, for mining, and for fiuel that can nt)e required for a large population. At a distance of forty miles north of the Gila River, Yavapai County becomes mountainous, and on every side are mines of gold, silver and copper. The placer diggings upon the Hassayampa, the Agua Frio, Lynx Creek, and other streams in this region, now known as Central Arizona, were first found by the explorers, Capts. Walker and Weaver, in 1863. They entered the country simultaneously, though without concert of action, one comining from the Gila and one from the Colorado. In the same year the quartz lodes attracted attention, and people flocked to the district from all quarters. The territorial officers, then on the Rio Grande en route for the territory, were induced to turn westward, via the 35th parallel or Whipple route, and make a personal examination of the country. The investigations of Governor Goodwin, who spent some months in travel over the territory, going as far south as the Sonora line, and east to the Verde and Sa-liiias, convinced him that this promised to be a most important and populous section, and here he concluded to convene the first Legislative Assembly. I i I i 163 IBEYOND TiE WEST. Prescott, the capital, is in the heart of a mining district, second, in my judgment, to none upon the Pacific coast. The surface ores of thirty mines of gold, silver and copper, which I had assayed in San Francisco, were pronounced equal to any surface ores ever tested by the metallurgists, who are among the most skillful and experienced in the city, and, so far as ore has been had from a depth, it fully suistains its reputation. The veins are large and boldly defined, and the ores are of varied classes, usually such as to be readily and inexpensively worked, while the facilities for working them are of a supe rior order. At the ledges is an abundant supply of wood and water; near at hand are grazing and farming lands, and roads may be opened in every direc. tion without great cost. The altitude is so great that the temperature is never oppressively warm; the nights, even in midsummer, are refreshingly cool and bracing. The ascent from the river by the roads from La Paz and MIojave is so easy, that with the small amount of work already done upon the same, the heaviest machinery may be readily transported. The distance by either road is about one hundred and sixty miles and the charge for freight from six cents to eight cents per pound. Contracts may now be made for the delivery of machinery at Prescott from San Francisco, via the Colorado, for ten cents per pound. II I I I I I I i I i I l h4 ARIZONA. Prescott is built exclusively of wood, and inhab ited almost entirely by Americans, mainly from Cali fornia and Colorado. Picturesquely located in the pine-clad mountains, it resembles a town in North. ern New England. The first house was erected in June last, and now the town has some hundreds of inhabitants, and the country for fifty miles about, including a dozen mining districts and farming valleys, is largely taken up by settlers. The valleys will, it is thought, produce good crops without irrigationi, as the rains in this region are frequent and heavy. The Territorial Government is now permanently established, giving to all the protection of the laws, as far as it is possible to do so. Those who are within the somewhat settled se(tions row have all the protection necessary for life ald property. Prescott, the capital, is situated near the center of the territory; it has a printing establishment, churches and schools, and is something of a city onl the plain upon which it stands. It was the principal home station of the Butterfield Overland stages by the Santa Fe route to San Francisco. Being eligibly located on the north branch of the Gila River, and having direct communication with the Pacific coast by a good wagon road to Los Angelos, gives it a business prominence which will be largely in I. I il 1 C)5 BE'YOND TIlE WEST,r. creased as facilities are extended and the country more improved. The law here regulating the location, ownership (aod development of mining lands, is the best devised on the subject, and ought to be adopted in other mining territories. I would most respectfully urge my readers wlho are fortunate enough to be in San Francisco, to take the coast steamer and go down to Los Ange]os, and visit for a trifling expense a very interesting section of the lower part of California, the great Colorado River and Western Arizona. To miss seeing this important part of the coast would be too great a sacrifice for the traveler to rmake. 4 I I 166 I CHAPTER XXI. TRAPPING BEAVER. While traveling through some of the mountain ranges where, thickly wooded along the streams, my attention was often attracted by the work of these mysterious animals, for they had been very numerous in favorable locations for them during many years past, notwithstanding the many traps. set for them by skillful hands. Most of them have been caught, but their works do not follow them. They are remarkably shy, seldom seen by daylight, and have such a keen sense of hearing, that nothing can approach near enough to see them before they disappear under the water. When at Albany a short time since, I visited for the first time since my return the Agricultural Rooms, and saw there several very good specimens of their work, recently obtained, to perpetuate their skill and labor. I examined them with more than ordinary interest, having seen and investigated much of their rather remarkable works. These animals have been numerously found in all these mountain regions, and have been trapped in all possible ways for their valuable furs, which hap I II I I III ii BEYOND TII E WEST. been no inconsiderable profit to the trapper and the trader in time past. While.r a placer minilig town on the Arkansas River, I mret an old mo(ultain trapper, now mining and tra-)ping occasionally, freom whom I obtained the substance of the followinrg article, which is so com plete that I hav.Le thought it might not be uninteresting to the reader. The beaver is caught usually with an ordinary steel trap weighing about five pounds; a chain is attached to it a few feet long, having a snivel and ring at the end, which revolves around what is called a float-a dry piece of wood. The trap is placed in shallow water about six inches deep, when the float is attached to the chain, and driven firmly into the ground, so that the beaver cannot pull it out. A small twig, dipped in musk or ecastor, is used for bait, and is suspended directly over the set trap. The trapper returns to the bank and throws water over his tracks, to wash out any footsteps or scent by which the beaver would be frightened, then remains in the stream for some distance b)efore he wades out. Care must be taken to place the bait just where the beaver will spring the trap wlhen reaching it. Should the bait stick be placed highl tlte hind foot will be caught, if low the fore foot. The trap must be firmly fixed, and at the proper disttnce from the shore, for if the beaver I I I I i I i I i Ii .i I i i 168 I I \ II 'I tII~~~~~~~~~~~'I ~ ~ ~ r I I -~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ P II~~~~~~~ I I ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~~~I; , l ",, I TRAPPING BEAVER. 169 can get out of the water with the trap he will at once eat off his leg to escape. The way in which the beavers construct their dam and make their lodge has been considered among the wonders of the animal instinct. Some have claimed for the little creature more, no doubt, than belongs to it, yet its sagacity is somewhat wonderful. It certainly does know how to make the water of a stream rise to a given level by placing obstructions across the chanIel to back up the water. It is not true, however, that it can always fall a tree in the proper direction for this purpose. I saw very many lodged, which they had ate off, but generally lay in the direction of the water; but trees generally along the banks of streams take the direction of the water by gravitation. When they are successful-get a tree down in where they want it-they take their places along the body of it, like good wood-choppers, and begin to take off the logs the various lengths required for their dam-,regard being had as to their being able to remove it where needed. When put in place, they secure it with sticks, stones and mud. The work is commenced when the water is low, and continued as it rises, until the desired height is attained. They manifest some very good engineeriIg. The dam is not only built of the. requisite i I I i I BEYOND THE WEST. height and strength, bit its shape is suited to the place and the stream in which it is built. Should the water be sluggish, and little current, the dam is straight; if turbulent, the dam is constructed of a convex form-the better to resist the current, made much thicker and stronger, where the action of the water is the greatest. After many years, the water being spread over a large space, often filled up by yearly accumulations, seeds take root in the new made ground, and the old beaver dam becomes a green meadow, or thickets of young trees. The beaver subsists on the bark of young trees; and when laying up a winter supply, all the workers in the community unite their labors of selecting, cutting up and carting the strips to their common store-house under water. "The beaver has two incisors and eight molars in each jaw; and empty hollows where the camine teeth might be. The upper pair of cutting teeth extend far into the jaw, with a curve of rather more than a semicircle; and the lower pair of incisors form rather less than a semicircle. Sometimes, one of these teeth gets broken, and then the opposite tooth continues growing until it forms a nearly complete circle. The chewing muscle of the beaver is strengthened by tendons in such a way as to give it great power. But mnre is needed to enable the beaver to i 170 TRAPPING BEAVER. eat wood. The insaiivation of the dry food is provided for by the extraordinary size of the salivary glands. "Now, every part of these instruments is of vital importance to the beavers. The loss of an incisor involves the formation of an obstructive circular tooth; deficiency of saliva renders the food indigestible; and when old age comes, and the enamel is worn down faster than it is renewed, the beaver is no longer able to cut branches for its support. Old, feeble and poor; unable to borrow, and a,shamed to beg, he steals cuttings, and subjects himself to the penalty assigned to theft. Aged beavers are often found dead with gashes in their bodies, showing that they have been killed by their mates. In the fall of 1864, a very aged beaver was caught in one of the dams of the Esconawba River, and this was the reflection of a great authority on the occasion, one Ahshe-goes, an Ojibwa trapper:'Had he escaped the trap, he would have been killed before the winter was over, by other beavers, for steal'ng cuttings.' "When the beavers are about two or three years old, their teeth are in the best condition for cutting. On the Upper Missouri, they cut the cotton tree and the willi,w bush; around Hfdson's Bay.anrd Lake Siperior, iii addition to the willow they cut the,))rlar ad(, llmple, hemlock, spruce and pine. Thle cutting 171 BFYOND THE WEST. is round and round, and deepest upon the side on which they wish the tree to fall. Indians and trappers have seen beavers cutting trees. The felliug of a tree is a family affair. No more than a single pair, with two or three young ones, are engaged at a time. The adults take the cutting in turns-one gnawing and the other watching; and occasionally a youngster trying his incisors. The beaver whilst gnawing, sits on his plantigrade hind legs, which keep him conveniently upright. When the tree begins to crackle, the beavers work cautiously; and when it crashes down, they plunge into the pond, fearful lest the noise should attract an enemy to the spot. After the tree-fall comes the lopping of the branches. A single tree may be winter provision for a fiamily. Branches five or six inches thick, have to be cut into proper lengths for transport, and are then taken home." The lodge is usually five or six feet in diameter, -tid about half as high; dome-shaped, with thick, strong walls, and communicate with the shore by subterranean passages, below where the water freezes in winter. Their lodges are made to accommodate a family, and each has its own bed, properly placed round the walls. Their domestic life is one of order and neatness-a place for everything, and, everything in its place. After eating, the dishes are I I i I I i 172 TRAPPING BEAVER. w:"shed up-unusual for the coluntry! The sticks that have been stri )ped ari carefully packea up and carried out, either to repair their damn, or be thrown into the stream. During the summer months the beavers leave their winter home and travel about the streams, occasionally making quite long journeys. Should any remain at home they are the mothers of little families. About the first of September the community return home and begin their preparations for the responsible duties of the long winter months. This habit, like that of the crowning work of creation, has exceptions. There are a certain few individuals, who have no families, make no damrn, do no work, and never live in family lodges, but live by themselves, oyster-like, in a shell in subterranean recesses-idlers, and the trappers call them "bachelors!" Several of them are sometimes found in one abode, which the trappers denominlate "bachelor's hall." They are more easily taken, and the trapper is always glad to come upon their habitations. The season for trapping beaver is spring and fall. Should the business be continued in winter, they are captured by sounding on the ice until an opening is discovered, when the ice is removed and the opening closed up. Returning to the bank, search is made to find the subterranean passage and trace it I t I i I II II I i I I I I i I t I iI I I i i i 173 I i i i I I I t I I I t II I II I BEYOND TIIE WEST. to the lodge, and by watching succeed in catching the animal on some of its travels between the water and the land. This is seldom resorted to, only when urged by famine to take them for food. Sometimes, several members of a beaver family are trapped in succession, when the survivors become very shy, and can't be "brought to medicine," to use a trapper's phrase. Then the trapper gives up the use of bait, and carefully conceals his traps in the paths of the community. The beaver now approaches these carefully, and sometimes springs them with a stick; other times, the trap is turned bottom upwards, by the same means; sometimes he drags them away and conceals them in the mud. When this occurs, the trapper gives up the strife of ingenuity, shoulders his traps and leaves, thus confessing that he is not "up to beaver." f f t 174 CHAPTER XXII. FROM DENVER TO CHEYENNE. Having completed our travels, aid given as lengthy a description of that more southern section of our country as our space will permit, we return again to this place, and begini our more northern wanderings. Being now hardened by journeyings and out-door life, in pure air, we can easily anticipate twenty hours' pleasure under warm sun and the agreeable coolness of evening, and the most brilliant starlight, equaled only in any other land, but never surpassed. Tile skies send down their greatest beauty through the thin, pure air of evening, new and very interesting to those who come here the first time. While waiting for the branch road to be completed from Cheyenne to Denver, we travel this hundred miles in a stage coach. Could it be done wholly by daylight nothing would be more agreeable. The road lies along the base of the mountain ranges, through low foot-hills, over rolling plains, divided occasionally by a vigorous mountain stream mingling with the plain below, with lines of trees marking their course from the mountains to the gently-sink I I I I i i i i I i i i i II i i i i II I I I iI i i iI i i i I i I BEYOND THE WEST. ing thirsty plains towards tile wide-reaching eastern horizon. On the west, old grim mountains topped with rock and snow; to the east, the unending plains, with an occasional cabin, and scattered herds of cattle and a few horses to relieve its majestic sameness and indicate the presence of civilized settlement. There is a magnificent out-doorness in the constant change of scene,which no smaller or differently made up landscape can give. The road presents to the traveler varied and constati t views of remarkable interest. The green graiss. the wild flowers, and the many other ranges one towering high behind the other until the great central is boldly brought to view, spread along with perpetual snow, together with the ocean of plain, the several large streams coming down frogn the mountain canyons, mingling with the plain below, making the otherwise barrenness to blossom and bring forth abundantly. About every ten or twelve miles we change horses; the driver announces his approach to a station either by- day or nright with a war-hoop, which "must be heard to be appreciated." It is certainly startling to unaccustomed ears. Every thirty or forty miles is a home station and a "square meal." Dinner, supper and breakfast are very muchl alike; the only real difference is in the pt)rice. But we missed, quite willinugly, the othier kintd of " honoe stations'" we en I i I 176 ii i i I i ii i 11 f i I II i II I i i i i i iI II i i i i i i ii iII I i 11 1 i FROM DENVER TO CHEYENNE. countered through here in our "Across the Conti nent" two years before. The accommodations were largely improved. No longer a single-roomed turf cabin floor such as nature offers; only half-spoiled bacon; miserable poor bread; often without butter or milk or any kind of vegetables; and if you are not pleased, or "doin't like these, help yourself to mus tard," at two dollars a meal. But now the traveler finds here a more substantial home, surrounded with good home supplies. Occa sionally we satdown to good beef and ham, a variety of vegetables, good bread and butter, pies, canned fruits, tea and coffee and other luxuries which the country afforded for half the former price, without the edges of the "squareness" of the meal rubbed off. The first rough fight, with all the elements of savage nature, had given place to more comfortable accommodations. There are several large and interesting streams which cross our road, in fording one of which we were obliged to exercise our swimming ability, while those who could not,, held on to the floating coach. The stream was very much swollen from the melting snows in the mountains. The lead mules when about midway of the stream turned their faces towards the driver, and became en.tangled in the larness, and the wheel team so much so, by turnit)g I i i I I i I i i I .1 I I i I I i I I I I 177 BEYOND TlHE WEST. short round threw the stage quite over on one side, and the body of it nearly filled with water, so that those inside found it quite necessary to make a very hasty exit outside to find breathing room. As the current was quiite strong, all were carried down st ream some distance before rea hing the shore. Soon, LIowever, all were out without injury save a thor fugh drenching; but the hot sun and unusually dly air very soon dried wet clothing. The team and stage out, we are soon on our way again. With this little experience we approached the other young river across the road with more precaution, the St. Vrains. Here everything was removed from the stage, piled on a little flat raft and ferried across the stream, andthen three persons at a time. After baggage and passengers were over the horses were swam over, and a long rope tied to the end of the stage tongue, when a team drew it to the opposite shore. From the middle of June to August, during the beginning of the warmest weather, when the accumulated snows in the mountains begin to melt, these streams become much enlarged, and are quite rapid. while at other times they are crossed with ease and safety. Sometimes too great risks are taken. i i i I I I I i I i' I 178 CHAPTER XXIII. WYOMING TERRITORY. This comparatively newv territory, was mostly ta ken from the southern part of IMontana, and is about as large as Colorado, and lies wholly within the moun tain ranges. Bounded by the Rocky Mountains on the west, and the various ranges of the Black Hills starting from its southern border, penetrate the en tire territory to the Northeast. It had a few years ago an infant organization as a territory, with but a very little population-more to give a few aspirants place and profit, than necessity. It had neither agriculture nor mining; consequently, no population previous to building the Railway, which has now imparted to it settlement, and some notoriety. The new railroad town of Cheyenne is the ornly settlemeut of any importance, and is the Capitol of the Territory, situated a little out from the mountains on the naked plain, six thousand feet above sea level. It has already assumed an air of permanency, and taken on the hopes of promise. After" Hell," as the end town of the railroad was called, moved on it, was a very important question, whether to be or not to be-whether the place was truly anything or noth i i r i I i i I i BEYOND THE WEST. ing. The problem is now settled in her favor. Situated at the end of the plains, at the front of the mountains, the railroad must halve extensive shops here. It is the central point of divergence to all the southern country, and the railroad to Denver makes its connection with the main line here. Ultimately, the St. Louis Pacific Railroad will, as Congress ha. directed, make a connection with this branch. Cheyenne has now over three thousand inhabitants who are settling down into soberness and permanent work. Two daily papers are asking for support. Some good church buildings are already erected. Permanent buildings of brick and stone have already taken tihe place of canvass and boards for building materials. Hotels, stores, restaurants and many other kinds of business, are quite largely represented-ready to respond to all human appetites, tastes and needs. Most of this territory can never be used for agricultural purposes, on account of its unevenness. Yet there are some valleys which offer very good advantages, though quite limited for so large a territory, that will support at least a small farming population. The North Platte crosses the entire territory, west and east, winds through the mountains, forming some good bottom lands, rich and fertile. Farthler north are the Cheyennie, Powder and Big Horn Rivers, alld I iso 6 WYOMIN G TERRITORY. their tribut,i'ie;s i)wvi rig iit rtli to the Yellow Stone, waterilig a large portion of this territory. But its past history is mostly that of the hunter and trap per; and what it will do. or is capable of doing, is among the unknown things of tihe future. H)wever, she can rely upon Northern Colorado for a supply of all her material wants. The large and productive valleys not fir soni,h, watered by the Oache-ala Pul(re, St. Vrains, Big Thompson, Little Thompson, Boulder and Clear Creek, will be glad to find a ready market at Clihey enlje for their large surplus produce. We would almost be criminally guilty, should we omit, in this place, to inform a certain class of lady readers, who sometimes lecture even in public, (but we presume more often in private,) to convince their lawmakers that they are not clothed with " inalienable rights;" tllht their would-be master bridles their liberty. The philanthropic Territorial Legislature of Wyoming, fully appreciating "Womenr's Rights" by uiderstanding the many wrongs they were obliged to endure in all this great and otherwise freedom-loviDg land, were the first in this great interest to extend to woman the elective franchise. The law here gives both sexes the same rights as to voting; and that class of ladies who truly wish to enjoy such privileges, can very soon (with the prese,iit traveling fa I I 181 BEY()ND T'IE' EST. cilities) not only see. but be lntTded( in a short time safely in this promised land to them, where they sit, if' nGt uinder a fig tree. under the lengthened shadows of the mountains, in the fullness of that great ballot power which makes and ulnmakes States and Empires. Incidentally we would also say, that most of these humane legislators are traveling the road of life alone, as is also most of the large-llearted men in this country; and those single ladies who come here to have their rights (denied them at home) will, on coming here, be more fillly persuaded that it is not good always to live alone, more especially among a class of such men who are the first to offer them all the civil and political privileges they possess. The wholesome laws which will hereafter govern VWyoming will be, no doubt, made of golden material, and will, to a large extent, make up for her rugged mountains and unproductive surface. 11 I i I I i i I i i i i i 182 CHAPTER XXIV. MONTANA —NING, AGRICULTURAL RESOUCES, HISTORY AND CLIMATE. This territory was formerly a part of Idaho, but after gold was discovered here, and mining towns grew up, and settlement began, it was found that the immense mountain rainges embraced in the limits of Idaho formed such barriers to past legislative communication and intercourse-the East from the West-that a division of the territory was de manded, and granted by Congress in 1864, setting off all the country lying east of the summit of the Bitter Root Mountain range, and erecting the present territory of Montana, the largest territory of the United States, covering an area of considerably more than 201,000 square miles. Previous to 1860, when gold was discovered here, very little was known of this immense territory except as the mountain man's home, for hunting and trapping, on the head waters and streams of the several branches of the Missouri, which, like the limbs of a tree, reach in all directions through the entire territory, giving water communication with the east as far as Fort Benton, just a)ove the great Miss,luri Fall.. Thte Yell,),, Stone, I I iI I' I i i I I lI I I i il BEYOND THE WEST. together with its large tributaries, water the southern section, giving the miner and agriculturistgood advantages. Down in the deep valley of Grasshopper Creelwe find the little mining town of Bannack, so name f'rom a savage tribe. Here began the settlement of AlMontana in 1861, in the southwest corner of the territory. Placer diggings of unusual richness were discovered here, giving as high as fifty dollars per day to the man. Excitement ran unbridled; miners and others flocked in from all directions; the little gulch soon held within its narrow hive two thousand people. The place soon went through the first lessons which such wild mining excitements usually undergo: drinking saloons without nurnmber, densely crowded; gambling tables were musical with ringing coin and shining with yellow dust; theaters, which seem to be indigenous in mining regions, were crowded; whisky fifty cents a drink, and champagne onily twelve dollars per bottle. But these, like other mines of the kind, were soon exhausted-worked out-and the inhabitants thereof pass on to another Eldorado. Now the place is a good representation of the very many we had seen in other mining sections of the country, a gloomy succession of deserted brush and dirt cabins and log houses, in the midst of I' I i i i I 184 MONTANA. which stood a gallows, as if proud of the good service it had rendered to the injured people. For a long time almost the first out-door look of the people was towards this court of justice, to see if some reprobate had not the punishment due his many crimes. No other mining country suffered so severely by desperate baiids of outlaws as this. Every new rich mnining region attracts thieves and murderers-brings to,)gether the very worst elements, out of which the worst kind of humanity is made, and sooner or later purges itself through the terrible vengeance of Lynch law. After hundreds of homicides and robberies the Vigilants organized, captured and executed many of the worst desperadoes, and sent out of the country many others. With this salutary wtarning to the surviving cutthroats, life and property became a little more secure. The County Sheriff who erected this gallows was,Haman-like, hung upon it himself for murder and robbery. Virginia City, the present metropolis of Montana, wNas established in 1862, after the Bannack mines were worked out. It is the largest settlement of the territory, sixty-five miles north of Bannack, situated in Fairweather gulch, on Alder Creek, and lies along the irregular winlding stream for a distance of ten miles. This gulch has yielded for a distance of I I i I I 185 I i i I i BEYOND THIE WEST. thirteen miles more gold than any other place of equal extent on the continent. It is now wholly cut to pieces with shafts, ditches and tunnels, and as miners say, worked out. But the place commands a large Southern trade, and also from the surrounding country, together with many remunerative quartz mines, which are worked by companies, giving the place more permanency and prosperity than usually belong to mining towns. One hundred and twenty miles north is Helena, the legitimate offspring of Virginia, as is Virginia of Bannack. Unusual rich mines were prospected here, and the town of Helena at once grew up. The productive mines, and the general business of the country East and.North, enabled it to put on the air of permanence and prosperity. It soon became the supply town for th9 rich placer mines of the Blackfoot country, and has, no doubt, a prosperous future from its geographical position, and will become one of the principal cities, if not the principal city, of the territory. Montana has produced the largest nugget of gold yet found in this country, and has yielded more treasure in proportion to the amount of work done than any other placer mining country on the continent, and its quartz veins promise to average as well, or better, than those of many other regions. 186 MONTANA. On account of the remoteness and inaccessibility of the country, lying far north, in the very center of the mountains, makes labor expensive and very difficult to transport the heavy machinery to some of the interior mines. Many companies in the East have erected quartz mills in various districts, and generally are being well rewarded. As we have said, Montana covers a large territory-eight hundred miles from east to west, by about three hundred from north to south, and is well named, being wholly within the mountains. It contains several large basins, and unnumbered valleys, through which flow many rivers and smaller tributaries, in which the permanent settler and the miner find, and build up homes of plenty and surround themselves with the comforts of an Eastern home; and getting prices for their products which would be almost fabulous in more accessible countries. While snow lies heavy upon the mountains, cattle fatten on the bunch grass of the valleys. Summei and wintter are next-door neighbors. Heire we often find the greenest vegetation and deep snow less than a mile apart. Those who have made themselves more thorough ly acquainted with Montana, agree in pronouncing it a delightful mountain country, containing all the social and political elements out of wlhich to make a I i I i 187 0 BEYOND THE WEST. great commonwealth. Wherever the precious met als are largely found, either in rock or loose earth they soon work out the miracles of our portable civ ilization. Towns hastily spring up in the wilderness, and cities among the mountains-taking shinilng treasures from granite hills, and rescuing fruitful fi(rms from lonely valleys. Our wild mining regions are ever full of interest to the thoughtful traveler. Their early prospecters have braved savage Indians, and equaily savage nature; endured all kinds of deprivations, hard work, long banishment from the comforts of civilized life, home and friends. That spirit who can see nothing in this beyond the grasp of gold, is poor indeed. With a commendable ambition for pecuniary success, it blends that marvelous element in our national life, which has in a few years carried our freedom and our flag from the central continental rivers to the Pacific. But as gold hunters are not alwa) s to be credited, by those who have no interest in their favorite region, we ignore their statements, and give the opinion of one who had no other business, only to eplore it. The Rep,rt of Gov. Stevens, on the Northern Pacific Railroad, to start from St. Paul and connect with the head of navigation on the Columbia, at Fort Walla-Walla, the reader will find interesting' I I 188 0 MONTANA. If the voyageur traveling over this country, w r route he takes, be asked what sort of a cour 3, he will tell you, an excellent country for t g-wood, water, and grass everywhere. But e of the Spokane extends nearly to its mouth, some miles south of the river. The Spoka name of the main stream to its junction witth ur d' Alene river, whence its name is given ller tributary coming from the north, the Co Alene being the main stream. One of the X utiful features of tho Coeur d' Alene river ntry is the Coeur d' Alene lake, which is en ed in the midst of gently sloping hills, cove h a dense forest growth; the irregularity of n, and the changing aspect of the country al i akes it one of the most picturesque scenes in ntry. The Coeur d' Alene river itself has tr es flowing fromn near the main divide of the Root, the most considerable of which is the eph's river, which has a general parallel di twith the Coeur d' Alene, and is about twt es south of it. The whole valley of the Coeur d' Alene and e, is well adapted to settlement, abounding ber for building and for fires, exceedingly ered, and the greater portion of the land are Nth of the Great Plain —that is, from the Spoh I I I I I i i I I II 1.89 I i I i r I i I II I I I Nor i i I ane I I II I BEYOND THE WEST. to thie 0th parallel east of the main Columbia-the country for the most part is densely wooded, although many valleys and open places occur, some of them nlow occupied by settlers, and all presenting advan tages for settlement. Down Clarke's Fork itself, there are open patches of considerable size; and so on the Kootenai River. North of the Spokane is a large prairie, known as the Coeur d' Alene prairie, through which the trail passes from Walla-Walla to Lake Pend d' Oreille. This prairie contains some six hundred square miles. * * * * * * * "It is the country, therefore, between these two great backbones of the Rocky Mountains, which I now wish to describe; and especially will I first call attention to that beautiful region whose streams, flowing from the great semicircle of the Rocky Mountains before referred to, pass through a delightful grazing and arable country, and find their confluence in the Bitter Root River, opposite Hell, Gate. From Big Hole Prairie, on the south, flows the Bitter Root River, which has also a branch from the southwest, up which a trail is muchi used by Iindians and voyageurs passing to the Nez Perce country and Walla-Walla. The Bitter Root Valley, above H'ellGate River, is about eighty miles long, and from three to ten in width, having a direction north and south from the sources of the Bitter Root River to .I I iI i I i I I .i i 19(.) I MONTANA. its junction with the Hell-Gate. Besides the outlet above mentioned, (omitted here,) towards the Koos kooskia, which is the most difficult, it has an excellent wagon-road communication at its head, by the Big Hiole Pass to Jefferson's Fork, Fort Hall, and other points southward, as well as by the Hiell-Gate routes to the eastward. From its lower end, at the jurnction of the HIell-Gate, it is believed the Bitter Root River is, or can be made, navigable for small steamers for long distances, at least, thus affording an easy outlet to its products in the natural direction. Hell-Gate (Pass) is the debauche of all the considerable streams which flow into the Bitter Root, eightyfive miles below its source at the Big Hole divide. The distance from Hlell-Gate to its junction with the Bitter Root is fifteen miles. It must not be understood from the term Hell-Gate, that here is a narrow passage with perpendicular bluffs; on the contrary, it is a wide, open and easy pass, in no case being less than half a mile wide, and the banks not subject to overflow. At Hell-Gate is the junction of two streams; the one being the Hell-Gate River, and the other the Big Blackfoot River. The HellGate itself drains the semicircle of the Rocky Mountains, from parallel 45 deg. 45 min., to parallel 46 deg. 30 min., a d'stance on the divide of eighty miles. The upper waters of this river connect with Wisdom i I i i i I I I I i I 191 iI i i i I i ii iI i I i i i i B3EYOND THE VEST. River, over a low and easy divide, across which Lieut. Mullan with his party moved on Dec. 31, 1853. "Moving down this valley fifteen miles, we come to a most beautiful prairie known as the Deer Lodge, a great resort for game, and a favorite resting place for Indians-mild through the winter, and affording inexhaustible grass the year rouiid. There is a remarkable curiosity in this valley-the Boiling Springs-which have been described by Lieut. Mullan. This Deer Lodge Prairie is watered by many streams; those coming from the east, having their sources also in the Rocky Mountain divide, and those coming from the west in the low, rolling and open country intervening between the Hell-Gate and Bitter Root Rivers. " The Little Blackfoot, which has been referred to, is one of the most important streams on the line of communication through this whole mountain region. It has an open, well-grassed and arable valley, with sweet cotton-wood on the streams, and pine generally on the slopes of the hills; but the forests are quite open, and both on its northern and southern slopes there is much prairie country. The Little Blackfoot River furnishes two outlets to the country to the east. It was the southern one of these passes, connecting with the southern tributary of the Prickly Pear Creek, that Mr. Tinkham passed over in 1853. fiad I i i i fI II "' - - -, - - - " 192 II ii I i i i I 1 i I I I ii i i ii II i i 1 i i iI I i I i i I ii MONTANA. determined a profile of the route. It was also pass ed over by Lieut. Mullan on his trip from the Mus cle Shell, in 1853; but the northern pass was first discovered by Lieut. Mullan when he passed over it with a wagon from Fort Bentonrl, in March, 1854. There is another tributary of the Little Blackfoot flowing into it below the point where Lieut. Mullan struck it with his wagon, which may furnish a good pass to the plains of the Missouri. Its advantages and character were described to him by the Indians. "Passing down the Hell-Gate River, from the mouth of the Little Blackfoot, we come to several tributaries flowing fiom the south. Flint Creek, one of them, is a large stream, up the valley of whi(-h there is a short route to the Bitter Root Valley, in a direction west-southwest from its junction with HellGate. On these rivers are prairies as large as the Deer Lodge Prairie, and the whole country between the Deer Lodge Prairie due west to the Bitter Root Valley Consists of muich more of prairie than of forest land. "The Hell-Gate River is thus seen to he one hundred and thirty miles long, flowing for sixty miles through the broad and fertile Deer Lodge Prairie, which is estimated to contain eight hundred square miles of arable land. Then, taking a direction more transverse to the mountain, opens its valley, contin i I I I I I i. I r-I I I 1i i I i i I I i I I I i ll i I 193 BEYOND THE WEST. ues fi'om two to five miles wide, until its junction with the Big Blackfoot, at Hell Gate; after w1i.'.~.it widens out to unite with the valley of the Bitter Root. On this part of it there are at least one hundred and fifty square miles of fine arable land, and as much grazing prairie on the adjoininig hills. * "Passing from the Hell-Gate to the Flathead River, we cross over this spur by a low divide, going through the Coriacan defile, and coming upon the waters of the Jocko River. The height of this divide, above the Hell Gate, is 560 feet; and above the Flathead River, at the mouth of the Jocko, is 650() feet. From this divide, a view of surpassing beauty, looking northward, is presented to the beholder. He sees before him an extraordinarily wellgrassed, well-watered and inviting country. On the east are the divides, clothed with pine, separating the Jocko and its tributaries from the streams running into the Big Blackfoot, and into Flathead Lake. To the North, the Flathead Lake, twenty-five miles long and six miles wide, is spread open before you with extensive prairies beyond; and on the West, sloping back from the banks of the Flathead River, a mingled prairie and forest country is seen. Here, in a compact body, is one of the most promising countries in this whole region, having -t least 2,000 square miles of arable land. I i I I I l I i I I t i 194 1, I I I i i.' i i. I I I l I i I i i i MONTANA. Below the Lake, the Flathead River flows, follow ing its windings some fifty miles, to its junction with the Bitter Root, where the united streams assume the name of Clark's Fork. In this distance it is 100 to 200 yards wide, and so deep as to be fordab)le with difficulty at low water, its depth beinig thlree feet in the shallowest places. Its current is rapid, and there is a fall of fifteen feet, five miles below the lake. About eighteen miles below the lake, it l eceives a considerable stream froim the northwest, called Hot Spring Creek. In its valley, and around it, is also a large extent of fine land. Nearly o(pposite, a small stream runs in from the East, anid another from tlhe same side ten miles below, by which tlhere are routes to the upper part of Big Blackfoot Valley. None of the branches of Clarke's Fork above the junction, can be considered navigable; but the river itself, (Flathead,) with the exception of the rapids and falls below the lake, wvhich may be passed by a short c,tnal, gives a nravigationrl of at least seventy-five miles to the head of Flathead Lake. * * * * * * * * About one hundred and thirty miles above the mouth of Clarke's Fork, is the Pend d'Oreille or Kalispelum Lake, which is a beautiful sheet of water about forty-flve miles in length, formed by the dila. tion of the river. The river is sluggish and wide i i I i I i I 195 BEYOND TH]E WEST. for some twenty six miles below the lake, where rapids occur during low water. Steamboats could ascend from this point to a point nine miles above the lake, or eighty miles in all. At high water they could ascend much farther. Between the Cabinet (twenty-five miles above the lake) and a point seventy-five miles below the lake, (a total distance of one hundred and forty miles,) the only obstacle which occurs is where the river is divided by rocky islands, with a fall of six and a-half feet on one side. The valley of Clarke's Fork is generally wide, arable, and inviting settlement, though much of it is wooded. * * * * * * * * * From the divide of the Rocky Mountains to the divide of the Bitter Root Mountains, there is an intermediate region, over one-third of which is a cultivable area; and a large portion of it is prairie country, instead of a wooded or mountain country. The following estimate gives in detail the areas of arable land, so far as existing information enables it to be computed: In the region watered by the Bitter Root River and its tributaries, not including HellGate, the prairie region may be estimated at three thousand square miles; in that watered by the HellGate and its tributaries, including the whole country south and west to the Bitter Root, but not including tie Big Blackfoot, there is a prairie region of two i i 196 i i I I i i I I i I i I i I I I I II i i i i MONTANA. thousand five huiidred square miles; in that watered by the Big Blackfoot and its tributaries, the prairie region is one thousand three hundred square miles. The country watered by the Flathead River, down to its junction with the Bitter Root, and thence down Clarke's Fork to the Cabinet, has a prairie region of two thousand five hundred square miles. The country watered by the Kootenai has two thousand square miles of prairie. Thus we have, in round numbers, eleven thousand three hundred square miles of prairie land. The whole area of the mountain region, (from the divide of the Rocky Mountains to the divide of the Bitter Root, and from 45 deg. 30 min. to 49 deg.) is about thirty thousand square miles; and it will be a small estimate to put tile arable land of the prairie and the forest at twelve thousand square miles. Thus, the country in the Forks of the Flathead and Bitter Root, stretching away east above the Blackfoot Canyon, is mostly table land, well watered and arable; arid on all these tribitaries-the Bitter Root, the Hell-Gate, the Big Blackfoot, the Jocko, the Hot Spring River, the Maple River, and the Lou-Lou Fork itself-the timberland will be found unquestionably better than the prairie land. It will not ba, it; the immediate bottom or valley of the river whlere farmers will find their best locations, but on the smaller tributaries I i I I i I I I I 1 97 BEYOND THE WEST. some few miles above their junction with the main stream. The traveler passing up these rivers, and seeing a little tributary breaking out in the valley, will, on going up it, invariably come to an offen and beautiful country. The observer who has passed through this country often; who hats had with him intelligent men who have lived in it long; who urnderstands intercourse with the Indians, and knows how to verify information which they give him, will be astonished at the conclusions which he will reach in regard to the agricultural advantages of this country, and it will not be many years before the progress3 of settlemerts will establish its superiority as aX1n agricultural regi(l).." Thie prediction of the late distinguished explorer is about to be realized, more rapidly perhaps than he had ever contemplated. Though owing its rapid settlement to the discovery of mines of gold and silver, Montana Territory is destined to retain a large proportion of its adventurous population, and to invite permanent settlers by the greatness of her varied resources, for besides the precious metals, her valleys abound in the more common and useful materials of marble, limestone, cinnabar, copper, sanrdstone, lead, plumbago, iron, coal, and the best of timber for lumbering purposes. Add to these a most healthful and delightful climate, alid the I I I I I I t i i i i i i 198 MONTA NA. I)most agre(eable scenery, and there is nothing left to desire which should constitute a happy home for thousands of hardy emirl-ant,. THE CLIMATE OF MONTANA. The first remark of those who have not properly considered the matter, is, that a railroa.d so far north would be in wvinter obstructed by snows, which the re,l facts contradict, and will convince the intelligent reader that of two roads, the Central and the Northern, the latter would not be as liable to Snow blockade as the former. The altitude of the Rocky Mountains in the latitude of Montana is two thousand feet less than it is on the line of the Central Road. The climate is modified and softened by the warm winds that come fromn the warm plains of the southwest over the hot springs of a lirge section of volcanic country in its southern part. Another modifying circumstance is the isothermal line which sweeps across it and takes its course westwardly to Puget's Sound, which has an aItnual temperature of 50 deg., thus settling the question of climate. Thlere is, however, another fact in this connection in favor of Montana. If the reader has noted the fact, he has observed that the hunters and trappers of the Rocky Mountains never wintered down or about the South Pass, but their favorite wintering grounds were upon the Yellow Stone, or upon some of the I I I i i I I i I I I 'i i I II i i i I II I. i I i I I I I i 199 BEYOND THE WEST. affluents of the Missouri, nearly east of the Pass, selected for the Northern Road. It wats here the mountain men found grass and sweet cottonwood for their animals, and it was in this more northern country where game resorted for food during the winter snows in large herds At Fort Benton, in Northern Montana, noted for being a trading post of the American Fur Company, which has an elevation of 2,662 feet above sea level, their horses and cattle, of which they had large numbers, were never housed or fed in winter, lb)ut obtained their own living without difficulty. Thbe facts hardly sustain the general impression that tlhe winter in this region has more snow, and is colder tnan in the more central ranges farther south. I i II i z i I i I I ii i 200 CHAPTER XXV. IDAHO-SHOSHONEE FALLS-BOISE CITY-IDAHO CITY -OWYHEE QUARTZ MILLS-CHARACTERISTIC FEATURES OF THE COUNTRY, &C. This territory, since the division which now comDrises Idaho, (an Indian word, signifying "the gem of the mountains,") lies wholly on the Pacific side of the Rocky Mountains, the water-shed forming its easterly boundary, and dividing the head waters of tune Columbia from the head waters of the Missouri. The road from Salt Lake City is the same to Montana or Idaho as to Bear River Junction, a distance of one hundred and forty miles. There roads branch northwest and northeast. Taking the left branch, the traveler very soon finds himself in Idaho, surrounded with vast rolling wastes of sand deserts, sage brush and volcanic debris scattered profusely over the country. The old granite rocks had been boith literally and truly turned inside out by subterranean forces far down in the deep bowels of the earth. This portion of the territory is interesting only for the magnificently broken surface and uninbabitableness, dreary and forbidding for the uses of civilized life. A few half-starved, degraded Utes st I i I II i I i I BEYOND THE WEST. still wander about this forbidding tract, sometimes painted in true old Indian style with pulverized red chalk, giving them a more hideous and repulsive appearance than savages generally. The stage stations are built of blocks of lava pierced with holes, for the use of arms to repel Indian warfare. Through all this great country every man's cabin is truly his castle, and he himself must defend it. The comnas-plant, with little blue flowers and small brown leaf, with a bulb like an onion, is found here, which the Indians dig and subsist on during the winter. Some of the ravines were quite covered with a plant called kinnikinic, a species of the real tobacco plant, which, in its young growth, it resembles largely. Tile Indians and others, when out of other tobacco, use this as a very good substitute for the cultivated kind; when dried and pulverized, it has the aroma of the noxious weed. Some distance east of the road is the great Comas prairie, rich and easy of irrigation from the mountain which encloses it, as the Mahlad River threads;ft,, and like Humboldt and Carson, after running hundreds of miles, sinks like the waters of Damascus. We were anxious to visit Shoshonee Patlls, of Snake River, but four miles west of the road station, which few white men Lad seen previous to 1867, and I I 202 IDAHO. is two hundred and sixty-five miles from Salt Lake City. The Indians call it Poh-chu-lak-a-the gift of the Great Spirit, and, like the red pipe stone quarry, was too sacred a place to be contaminated by white men; consequently their vigilance in guarding it. A party had been to see it a short time before, accompanied by a few soldiers at the station. One of these consented to accompany us. The Rix miles were made in an hour and a half over sand and sage brush. The vapor arising from it can be seen from the road when there is no wind. In this pure morning air, where the discharge of a pistol will make a report as great as a small cannon in low country atmosphere, sound in this high mountain country is conveyed as though made by a silvertongued bell hung high up in the ethereal dome. We started in early morning, and had not proceeded far before the low, deep roar of the falls were heard, and pillars (not of a great Roman Pantheon) were rising up, but of clouds, or rather the blending of them from the troubled waters down in the deep caverns of rock. The mirage, before the sun is up, is as much to be admired as the waterfall, a mirage more wonderful than any I had witnessed in all my desert and mountain wanderings, surpassing an ordinary desert mirage as much as the splendors of an arctic night excel the clouds of a summer day. We i 203 BEYOND THE WEST. gized and admired the clouds of vapor as they rolled over and through each other, changing in form and color, blending more than the colors of the rainbow; but a matchless combination of the roughest, to the most refined shades, celestial islands floating in mid air. As we were lost in admiration, the eastern horizon began to take on yellow and purple; the great round faced luminary, imparting light and warmth, began ta%end her streams of use and beauty between two sentinel mountains on the east, the "Gateway of the Day" here truly; but we had another last view, and all evaporated like a fascinating dream. Could an artist have placed it upon canvass? But who can "gild refined gold or paint the lilly? Who can paint the mountains, the seas or the skies?" Who will presume to fix limits upon the wonders of universal and prolific nature, or place boundaries upon the Divine love which permeates and suffuses it? Going down some distance upon a second precipice, we were where a good view of the falls and river could be had. Looking down about five hundred feet, the river looked as peaceful as a summer sun. Not far above, the falls are in full view. The stream is divided into several channels by small islands of rock coming together, and uniting their strength before taking the swift, dizzy plunge of at least two I I i I 204 IDAHO. hundred and fifty feet into the foaming caldron un der quick moving clouds of spray. The fall itself takes the appearance of one unbroken sheet of white satin, ititerspt rs d with myriads of shining drops; a fall of snow set full of jewels. The real depth of the chasm belittles all human efforts, from which rises such pearly mnist, hiding from mortal eyes the secrets of its boiling heart. This fall is seldom equaled. Not all hight, like Yosem'ite, nor all breadth and power like Niagara and the Great Falls of the Missouri, but, to some extent, combines the three. It has excavated for itself a channel deep down in the primary rook, very much like Trenton Falls, of which I was somewhat reminded. Could these several falls be put together and made one, with an immense caldron for a body of water to fall into, as when the creek is high the resemblance would be good by changing the slate to granite. Trees of heavy foliage hang over the deep-worn chasm, some small ones on the sides of the precipice, driving their fibrous toes into every little crevice, and almost into the very rock, to obtain a scanty subsistence. Perhaps the old Indian Chief Shoshonee, after whom the falls were named, might, if he were livitig, give its earlier life, while he was taking vapor baths and sm(-okiI)g his pipe by its magic-totled mut I I i II I i I II I I I i i I II i I I I I i I I t i I i I i I t I I i 205 I. i Ii I i i i ii i I i I I i I i I t i i i Ii i I i I I I I i BEYOND THE WEST. sic. About twenty-five miles down the river, in a deep canyon, with volcanic walls three hundred feet high, there pours out through the side some distance frotm the bottom twenty or more large streams, some as large round as a common barrel, lashed into spray as they leap down jutting rocks at the bottom, form itig a stream nearly a hundred feet wide-sup posed to be the resurrection of the Mahlad River which was buried while alive in the Comas plain fifty miles away. Boise City, located at the head of navigation through the Columbia and Snake rivers, is the capital as well as the commercial metropolis of Idaho. It is a trading, not a mining town, in the level valley of Boise river-a valley fifty miles long by about six wide, with agricultural pretensions. It will grow wheat, barley, and all the variety of vegetables, enough to supply a large population. The broad, level, treeless streets, with their low warehouses, little cottages, log cabins and stage coaches, wagons, speculators, miners, farmers and Indians, reminds one of a border settlement, a kind of portable caravansary, not uncommon along the borders of civilization. The principal mining centers and farming interests of Idaho are located within a hundred miles of Boise, which secures to it the monopoly of the general hbuiness of the tarr;tforv. I I i I II i ii I i I I I i I i i i 206 i 11 1 i I II II i i . i I I I i I II i t i i I II i IDAHO. Boise Basin, northeast ninety miles, is a mountain bowl twenty-five miles in diameter, anId contains some good quartz-bea,ring ledges, but is principally known as one of the richest placer mining districts. This saucer-like basin seemed to have been the receptacle for the shining gold, coming along distance in all directions through the mountain ranges, which gave it unusual richness. A few miles from here, in the mountains, is Idaho City, containing a large mining population, and the center of several rich quartz districts, with mills for the reduction of the ore, the cause and life of the settlement, giving to the place permanence and future prosperity. The richest lead mining district yet discovered in the territory is seventy-five miles southwest of Owyhee, itself a straggling town, or rather towns, among the mountain tops; but the district is extensive, and embraces some of the r'chest leads and many gulch mining districts. It has been more largely developed, being more accessible and the first discovered. The placers were worked out, but the place is so rich in quartz that she can afford to lose the other kind of mining. But few districts in any of the mountains are more wonderfully piled up and broken by subterranean fires than this, which, no doubt, is the cause of its unusually rich mountain mines. I II II - I i 2()'l o i I i i i i i I i i i I i i i i i I i i i i I I I i i i i i I i I I I I i iI i i i -11. -....... BEYOND THE WEST. Ruby City lies nearly in the bottom of a canyon, with overlooking mountain summits of one and two thousand feet. War Eagle stands sentinel over all these peaks, and is the richest, and in some respects the most wonderful deposit of ore yet discovered in ail our mining country. This mountain, like the great Comstock Lode in Nevada, will add millions of dollars to the world's treasure. Large quartz mills are erected here, owned by companies in New York, Boston and Providence. The first mill, put in working order, cost seventy thousand dollars, and in less than its first fifty working days, yielded ninety thousand dollars in bullion. The leads contain both gold and silver-usually, about one quarter silver. Mills that can work ore up to within twenty per cent.'of what it will assay, is considered good work in any kind of ore. This ore is easily reduced; a single stamp will crush from two to two and a half tons per day. Some Chinamen find remunerative employment, by panning out the "tailings," after the mills have exhausted their skill to extract the gold from it. Many grinding processes and laboratory theories have been gotten up which worked wonders, when on exhibition in New York, but practically in the mines are worthless. Idaho machinery is firom California. San Franciscomade quartz mills, a specialty from the first, are far i i I i,I I i iI 'iII i ii i i 11-'.."....",,... I . I I,- I 208 i i I i i I i i I i I I ii i i i i i i 1 i i i I I t I1 !I IDAHO. in tdvance in all improvements which are properly a success, of any made east of the mountains. Here, as in all our large qu'artz regio)ns, the larger portion of capital invested has been lost through incompetency, recklessness and bad mtnanagemnent, by buying worthless mines at ruinous prices, and expending immense sums in the construction of mills, before ascertaining whether they had paying ore to justify the very heavy expenditure. The high hopes and golden dreams of very many good companies have been badly wrecked on these before unheeded and unguarded rocks in the mining business. But enterprises, conducted with as much caution and careful judgment as is exercised in any other successful, legitimate business, will generally be largely rewarded. Quartz mining, however, has now only lived through a few ot its infant years; but with its good start, will grow year by year, until it is one (,f the leading national interests, and holds out favorable inducements to the discriminating use of indust,ry and capital. The early history and discovery of gold in Idaho is that of Montana. Far away from civilization in unknown mountains-amid hostile Indians-the first prospecters pushed steadily forward, for many long and lonely months, after the fi,-st discovery of gold in 1862. After its richness was demonstrated. the t i I I 209 I iI i i II i I I I i I I I i z I I II i II I I I I i I. I BEYOND THE WEST. region libored under unusual disadvantages., being so veriy remote for all business purposes anid ni mountain roads over which to transport machinery requisite for its development. But time, and the prospect of getting a "golden fleece," (although ma ny went out after wool and came back shorn,) the obstacles have been overcome, and Idaho is one of our best mineral States; but can never be an agricultural region, on account of its remarkable uneven. ness and want of water for irrigation. But its grazing capacity is very good. Herds of cattle and sheep will find an abundance of nutritious grass at all seasons of the year. Though the winters are long, and sometimes severe, yet the average temperature is milder than that of Illinois. The climate is healthy, and softened by the milder breezes coming in from the Pacific, which is the case with much of the country lying west of the Rocky Mountains. I i 210 CHAPTER XXVI. EASTERN OREGON - SOII - CLIMATE- RESOURCES AND GENERAL FEATURES. A day's stage-ride from Boise City, the tourist crosses the Snake River into Oregon, without noticing any remarkable change, save crossing the geographical line which the river makes a little more prominent, as it runs north through the rather beautiful, deep valleyv-forming a very natural, running boundary line between two great territories. As usual, we are among barren mountains, relieved occasionally by a growth of evergreen trees, upon their otherwise naked slopes; sand plains, with their usual productions; a few patches of bunch grass to the acre, with the usual presence of that indigenous, prolific shrub, wild sage. In the Blue Mountains, we crossed thle Round Prairie, thirty miles by about thirteen, as level as a lake or a house floor, symmetrically enclosed by almost perpendicular, smooth mountain walls-the solid and beautiful masonry of Nature. It seems to be the bed of an old lake, re minding one of the rich, black loam of Iowa, unusual for the country, producing an abundance of excellent grass, good wheat and barley, and some of the i BEYOND THE WVEST. h'arly vegetables, but too high alnd cold for corn Near one side is a hot sulpl-ur spring —a great boil ing caldron, covering an acre. Ilalf a century ago, Lewis and Clark found and noted this interesting and beautiful, hid-away mountain oasis, while hunting for the head waters of the Columbia. From a high cross range one can look back upon the extended, yellow-colored desert Valley of the Snake, for a hundred miles, and ahead to Walla Wall a. Now upon the highest range of the Blue Mountains, we pass down on their Pacifle slopes; the change is agreeable. Nature begins to put on an improved appearance; everything puts on a look fresher and newer than before. The deep mountains, whose evergreen forests revealed picturesque landscapes and the elements of more civilization, began to fix one's appetite for some almost indispensable common things elsewhere-of which, having been deprived, were unusually agreeable, especially that which makes near neighbors of the outer and inner world, the newspaper. "We may live without poetry, music or books, We may live without conscience, and live without heart We may live without friends, we may live without books, But civilized man cannot live without cooks." We cross the head of the Umatela River Vailley, whose head-waters and southern tributaries flow I I I 212 i I I i i i i i iI i I 1lI EASTERN OREGON. though a delightful country, suitable for cultivation or grazing. Here were the. famous pastures of the Nez Perce Indian chief, whose band of horses nutmbered sometimes two thousand head. Down among the foot-hills, signs of better life and cultivation increase-become more apparent to the Walla Walla Valley, where the settler can gather about his humble home beauty and fertility. This is a large and productive valley, and is now quite largely populated with a healthy farming interest. Wheat, barley, oats, corn, fruit and vegetables, grow largely. The town of Walla Walla, at the head of navigation on the Columbia, is a place of commercial inmportance-it being the principal supplying place of Eastern Oregon, Northern Idaho, and the eastern part of Washington Territory. Besides, it is in the centre of an excellent grazinig country, where grass and water are abundant, with a climate dry and healthful; short winters and long summers. Eastern Oregon embraces all that portion of Oregon lying east of the Cascade Mountains, known in California as the Sierra Nevada, and was for a long time supposed to be a desert country, unblased in any essential way for the use of civilized man. More particularly so, when the emigration to this fir off land came over-land fr,)m the old States and Ter I 2113 BEYOND THE WEST. ritories, in the far off east and more southern States arrived at the South Pass of the Rocky Mountains with animials more than half exhausted and inefficient supplies, to enter upon a country more rugged and inhospitable-against which, from the ignorance of the country, they had failed to prepare themselves. They found now more obstacles to be overcome-a different climate from any they had ever experienced-agreeable in summer in the mountains, buit excessively hot and dry on the plains. The little coolness in the air in the morning atmosphere, soon gave way as the sun mounted higher and still higher-the heat increasing in intensity, until the great plain palpitated with radiated heat, and the horizon flickered almost like a fl;ame. —when the burning heavens met the equally burning earth Their road often led them long distances over bare rocks, reflecting the heat of a cloudless sky-over hot, burning sands, and unusually heavy for their teams-over alkali deserts, which they knew not how to avoid. They would, of necessity, beconime somewhat disheartene(d by long and weary travel, and the unforeseen difficulties which fell in their way, quite unprepared to appreciate even the occasional oasis which beautified the desert, and imparted new life to them and their taithful animals. My heart rejoiced matiy times to see the pt)or, I i I i II I I i I I 214 BASTERN OREGON. almost famished oxen, after traveling with heavy loads a long summer day, and often longer, to find one of these God-giving places. Their appreciative thankfulness, with eyes dancing in their sockets, literally laughing all over, I could understand more fully the request of the great Webster, when he ordered his man to drive his oxen up that he might see their honest faces once more before he died; so that when they had set foot within the ever beautiful verdant valleys west of the Cascade Mountains, the brown-colored hills and forbidding plains now of Idaho and Eastern Oregon were remembered only as "that God-forsaken country." However, some emigrants were intelligent enough to observe as they passed evidences of extensive mineral deposits, but never looked bforward to seeing this region, in their estimation, occupied, and its mineral wealth filling up the treasury of the world; and, least of all, did they foresee that some of this unblessed country would ever be what can now be seen in many of its fertile valleys, "blossoming like the rose." Such is Eastern Oregon. However, there is a very great disproportion between the good and bad land in this portion of the State. There are many mountain ranges-alkali plains, that would make better soap than wheat and sage deserts. There is no hope for the alkali, but 215 I BEYOND TH E WEST. some of the sage land canl be reclaimedwhere there is water, and made somewhat productive. Eastern Oregon, Eastern Washington and Idaho have the same general aspect of country. The northerly portions are heavily timbered, but below the 47th parallel and between the Cascade Mountains and the divide of the Rocky Mountains, the country is made up of mountain ridges, high rolling plains mostly destitute of timber, and table lands, where lakes and marshes may sometimes be found. But a small part of this great region can ever be made productive, for the want of irrigation, but is valuable for stock-raising purposes. The Blue Mountains cross Eastern Oregon oblique ly, and form the water-shed between the waters which flow into the Columbia and those which floes east into the lakes, of which the Kalamath is the largest. These several lakes, with their surrouldings, are somewhat remarkable. Hills thrown carelessly around in all directions, covered with despeiately burnt rock and scoria, the hideous chasinm3, sharp, pyramidal, needle-shaped rocks of its basaltic mountains, its mysterious reservoirs of water, its lakes of salt and hot springs in the midst of alkali plains, seem to fix it for a country uninhabitable b3 civilized man, and the home of the fowl, and the marauding Intdians after a successful raid into th, I I i I I I i i 216 EASTERN OREGON. distant settlements. Explorations already made are sufficient to demonstrate the fact that Eastern Oregon, like Idaho and Montana, contains a mineral wealth of gold, silver, copper, lead, cinnabar and plumbago, which will give it prominence and a coming prosperity. Notwithstanding human life, through all this isolated great country, is like a gambler's moneymighty uncertain-the hard, uncomfortable way of travel, the deprivations and sleepless nights; yet there seems to be an indescribable something, I must confess, that attaches one to it, invites the sunburnt, and sometimes from broadcloth to buckskin traveler, to prolong his, perhaps, already too long wanderings. It is not difficult for one who has spent some time in any of these mountain regions, to realize the reluctance with which old mountain men leave this kind of uncivilized life. Once at Walla Walla, the past is only of memory, and the ready and willing steamer is ready to take you on down the Columbia, "Through forest dark, and mountains rent in twain," to the bosom of its great mother, the ocean, whose blue waves have rolled in for unnumbered centuries to welcome this savage yet magnificent river. It extends its long arms northerly to British America, and far up in the Rocky MIlountains through Idaho; I I i I I i r i I 217 i BEYOND THE WEST. also it gathers up the northern waters of Nevada and Utah. The Owyhee, the Boise, the Payette, the Salmon and the Clearwater are all tributaries of the southern branch, the Snake. Wallulee, situate a little below the junction, is beautifully located, and is a place of commercial importance, where mining outfits are procured and large supply trains leave for the distant mines. Should the business of the upper country increase, as there is every reason to believe it must, the place will grow large and prosperous. The banks of the Columbia here are low, having the samne general appearance, running through a great sandy plain. Nothing is in sight from the steamer's deck but expanded rolling plains, with scattered bunch grass. Back a dozen miles or more timber is visible, and farther back in the mountains heavy forest is in abundance for lumbering purposes. For sixty miles of the ninety down to the rapids, not a single tree is visible, except such shrubs as grow oil the sand bars and islands. Not far above Celilo (the head of the rapids) comes in the Des Chutes River, rapid and wide at its entrance; also, twenty miles up, the John Day River comes in by a high-walled entrance, which quite hides its approach. After these large accessions, the Columbia assumes her great power down the I 218 EASTERN OREGON. rapids. Above this point the smaller boats only can navigate. A railroad portage carries everything from here sixteen miles to Dalles, below the cataract. The river for some distance above Celilo is rapid and lashed to foam. A prominent feature here is an immense warehouse a thousand feet long, built aeon an incline to accommodate boats at the different stages of the water. From here the hurry of the water is most desperate, like that above the great fall of Niagara. It dashes over towering rocks, driving itself into wild excitement. The rapidity of its flow for such a larige body of water, compressed between high walls, seems to be, and no doubt is, rounded up in the middle of the channel, so that it appears to go down on either side. Most of the distance the railroad is close along the river, in view of its rapids and whirlpools. The enormous sand drifts, ever changing with the summer winds, cause the Railroad Company much trou ble and expense to remove, and is also annoying to travelers who desire to see the country. Men are constantly employed the whole distance to prevent the road from being buried alive bythe desperate sand winds which drive during the summer over this upper country. Dalles is a prosperous business town of importance on the Columbia, alid has some pretensions of 21 0 BEYOND THE WEST. becoming the terminus of a branch Pacific Railway. The country about Dalles has a remarkabt)le wvildness and singularity. You have ail about evidences of that period when the country was one great field of molten rock and liquid fire; rocks burnt and worn by the elements into horizontal terraces or massive perpendicular columns and sharp-pointed peaks hewn and seamed in every direction. This is an interesting region; the worn basaltic rock makes impressions on the mind and memory of the beholder not soon forgotten. The word Dales signifies thought, and was applied to this place by the early French voyagers to describe the narrow channel through which the river is forced at this place. From Dalles Bierstadt painted his " Mount Hood." "Upon Mount Hood I stood, And with rapt gaze explore The valley, and that patriot band Upon Columbia's shore." The grand old mountain can be seen for a hundred miles along the river, rising from the backbone of the Cascade Range. This, like Vesuvius and Etna, has formed for itself a cone-shaped mountain on the top of the range, and has thrown up from its crater a wonderful pile of scoria, ashes and other debris piled mountain upon mountain. The northern side, tha.t of the river, has large quantities of I I I II 220 EASTERN OREGON. never-melting snowv, and in warm weather Hood River comes down cold from the melted snows of the mnight) mountain. Its bight has been variously estimated fromi f)lurteen to fifteen thousand feet. It has been agitated by an occasional eruption simultaneously with earthquakes at Sail Francisco. Yet it stands the same old watch-tower now that it did many years ago when this strong, rapid, high-walled and low-walled river, fifty years ago, carried the yearly "brigade" of the Hudson Bay Comnpany, bringing the annual accumulation of their hunting and trapping from the interior country and Canada. A- few years later it-looked down from its cloud-capp -d crest upon the Astor Expedition, suffering all but d ath itself while crossing the ranges under its long shadow in the cold and deep) snows of the mountain ranges in winter. But twenty years ago, in its self same majesty, it saw the yearly immigrations to Oregon arriving at D.lles, traveled, destitute and sick, late in the fall, slowly anid anxiously passing down the river amid fearful rapids to the settlements. It also saw many boatmen and immigrants dashed to pieces in rapids and swallowed up in maddeniied whirlpools, with the feeble means they had to float over some of its inhospitable surface. These were among the hazards and uncertainties of pioneer life; but nowv the traveler can oilly dream of those early i II I I I I I i I I I 221 l i i i I i I iI i I II i i I I 1I 1 i i i I iI I ii i I i II I I ii i BEYOND TIIE WEST. times while he gazes from the deck of a fine steamer with every want fully supplied. Ascending the river from Dalles, the country becomes more rolling, but quite barren, to the low foot-hills of the Cascade Range, when the heavy foiests (as in California on the same range,) are brought out, as there, in greatness and beauty-then the very mountains themselves -and when the Cascades are reached you are in the heart of the mountains. The "Cascades" are several miles of rapids where the river forces itself through the very heart of the mountains. These are passed also by a railway portage. The river seems shut back here, forming a beautiful bay, with two small islands and heavily wooded shores. Little above this bay is a sunken forest a mile or two long and a half mile wide, mostly covered by the waters of the river. This would seem to be the resting place for the great waters before rushing headlong through and down the irar ]row gorge. These few miles of railway, located just above and along the struggling waters, furnish views seldom equaled anywhere. The hight and picturesque grandeur of the mountains above the rapids is so great, and one feels his littleness,(as in Yosemite, which we shall visit,) that any description we could give would be as nothing. It cannot be describedit can only be felt. Place half a dozen Hliglilands r, I i 222 I EASTEliN OREGON. 223 of the noble Hudson together, raise the little shrubs to mighty trees, and you may begin the comparison. Seldom one can find in so short a distance more to challenge admiration and receive more completeness of impressions. e i I I i i i i II i iII I I i 1 i i i i i I I iI I II ~-v- CHAPTER XXVII. WESTERN OREGON-PORTLAND-WALLAMET RIVER AND VALLEY-ITS UNUSUAL PRODUCTIVENESS-HEAVY FORESTS-EXTENSIVE FISHERIES-CLIMATE AND SCENERY-COLUMBIA RIVER. The mountains past the Oregon side of the Co]umbia for some distance gradually lower, are heavily wooded and more fertile, indicating the approach to the Valley of the Wallamet, while the shore on the Washington side is more abrupt and broken. The old historical station of the Hudson Bay Col pany on the Washington side, Vancouver, is beautifully located, commanding a fine view of the river, mountains and country. It is the headquarters of the Military Department of Oregon. A little distance below, on the opposite side, is the upper branch of the Wallamet River; while the lower or larger portion joins its noble flood farther down, embracing a fertile island of several miles in length, upon which the Hudson Bay Company's people established the first farming in Oregon. At the upper mouth of the stream, are a number of small islands, as if to keep back the clear and sparkling waters, causing them to take many devious ways, as if reluctant to come forth all at once, to join its grand II II II i .I i I I I i I I i i i i i i i I I i 1i i i i I i i i i 1 i i i i i i i i 1 i1 WESTERN OREGON. er neighbor, and be recognized no mrore individn,tl ly. These embowered islands, the distant river, valley and bluffs of the Wallamet at the south, and the backed up, heavily wooded mountains to the east, together with the snowy slopes of Hood and St. Helen, standing majestically, making a view of mingled( beauty and sublimity. A very pleasant sail from here to Portland. The city was in its infancy ordained to be called Boston, but the Maine man saved it from that fate, only by the tossing of a copper, which fell head upthat representing the allegiance of the Maine man to his native hotne. Portland is yet young and simple-hearted-" feels its oats," but its dignity mnore —looks as if made for all the working days of the week, and is also considerably dressed up for Sundays. The streets are broad and level, tree-lined, with the very best, wide side-walks, which are almost indispensable here, oi, account of the excessive mud during the rainy season. The houses are well back from the road atnd streets; and have beautiful gardens, with lawns of most lovely, velvety grass. The city never gets out of the woods. To the west of it stretch very heavy forests. North of it to the Columbia, are miles of dense wilderness. East, on the opposite side of the river, are also mighty woods; while south, along the i I I I 225 i I I II it iI Ii i i i 4'I i i i i 'i I I ii i II BEYOND THE WEST. Wallamet for many miles, are large trees marsh;,tel Iup the hill side and overtopped in the gorges, cavid absorbing the very sunlighit in their stately masses; while those near the road seem bending down to the very roadside to see who comes so quietly, over the smooth, sandy road, into their ancient solitude. Portland lies in the real heart of Western Oregon. The almost inaccessible Cascade Mountain ranges, rulning north and south, form a very natural division of Oregon, making an Eastern and Western Territory. That portion of the State west of the mountains, is embraced in three large valleys-the Wallamet, Umpqtua, and the Rouge River, together with a narrow strip of land lying on the coast, with the Columbia River for a northern boundary. The Coast Mountains and the Cascades, quite inaccessible on the east, make of necessity a geographical division of the State. The territory lying between these two ranges, is divided by three transverse mountain ranges separating the valleys, of which the Wallamet is much the largest and most productive. The Wallamet River, like most others of this country, is troubled with falls. Twenty-five miles from 'ts mouth are falls furnishing the largest water power in the State. Above the falls, the water forms a large basin, and is smooth until within a half-mile of i i i t i I 2 20 1-1 WESTERN OREGON. the falls, when it quickly comes together, rapidly in. creases its momentum until in great haste it turns back upon its self-forming turbulent eddies, until driven forward it makes a last desperate plunge of twenty-five feet into a maddened whirlpool. The spray dashed up, fo)rms a beautiful rainbow, and also cools the hot air of summer at Oregon City-on the rocky bluff at this place. This interrupted navigation of the river has been mostly overcome by the Boat Company, and the portage is easily made. The company excavated a canal and basin along the east side, so that their boats come so near together that the passengers atid freight have only to cross the warehouse to be transferred. The whole length of this river is not far from a hundred and seventy-five miles, and the extent of the valley is in the neighborhood of one hundred and twenty-five miles long, by from sixty to eighty in width, having many tributary streams. Wallamet Valley is principally prairie land, waiting only the husbandman's plowshare and scattering the seed, to reward him liberally in large harvests. For several miles from the Coltlumbia, the forests of fir, pine, yew and cedar, are very dense on the higher lands back; while the river bottom lands are covered with a large growth of oak, ash, maple, cottonwood and willow; but farther southward the timber 227 BEYOND THE WEST. becomes less, and goes back into the foot hills and moulltains, until the country opens out in large and beautiful rolling prairies. Not like the immense flat plains of Illinois, but more like the undulating "oak openings" of Wisconsin. Low ranges of hills divide it, covered thinly with oak, low and spreading like those in Sacramento Valley and at Achapulco, trunks glowed in orange and green limbs, having a long, gray, hanging moss swinging in the summer wind, as if celebrating the mildness and beauty of the country. The soil is of a dark gray color; calcarious, sandy loam; is mellow, and ordinarily suffers but little from drouth; is especially adapted to cereals, and grows vegetables and the hardy fruits, but not so largely as the more alluvial soil formed along the rivers and streams. These prairies furnish grass in abundance for hay, but not in such quantity or quality as the lower lands of the rivers and streams. But grass is everywhere to be found more or less away fioom the heavy timber, and that when cleared makes the very best grass land of the country. The general formation of the country govern men in their selection of agricultural pursuits. The grain farmer will settle in the valleys, while the fruit-groxwer will go to the low foot-hills, and the sheep-raiser will go higher up among the hills with his sheep t, the mountains. The dairyman seeks those places I I I I 2:.',, 4 WESTERN OREGON. where grass is the most abundant during the ye,-i, and where the climate favors most the making of b)utter and cheese. As already intimated, Western Oregon-lying between the Cascade Mountains allt the coast range-is one general valley, containing as much good farming land as would make a State of the size of Connecticut, besides two other valleys, having a large amount of good agricultural land, and a greater proportion of mountains, but superior fior grazing and fruit-growing; while the lower valley has some of California's reputation for mining. No one can travel through Wall:imet Valley without being impressed with its varied beauty and almost wonderful fertility. Some have pronounced it the most beautiful valley in America. This is claim. ing too much for it; yet it can be placed among tlhe largest and best, of which our extended country has so many. The beauty of this is made up in agreeable intermixture of level and rolling prairies, with ranges of low hills, pictured with heavy green forests, maniy gliding, winding rivers skirted with the finest trees, and in the majesty of the mountains which gi, rd it from the heat ot eastern deserts, and the cold of the Arctic seas. Its fertility and beauty are manifested in the magnificent fo)rests which enbellish all the surrounding hills in everlasting green; also in the grassy [ledn w]ic;, year ait ter yeLr clothe II I I I i I 229 BEYOND THE WEST. une valley with renewed, beautiful verdure, and also in the mniny waving, gollden harvest fields which are now interspersed among the universal green. Nature is prolific. The soil and climate invite labor with almost a sure promise of reward, on account of the uniformity of the seasons by which the maturing of crops become a certainty. The produc. tion of wheat must, as it has been, be one of the principal productions of the State. Oregon "has the largest compact body of good wiheat land on the Pacific slope, which, surrounded and intermingled with never-failing water power, makes the WIllaImet Valley adapted by nature for the cheap manufacture of breadstuffs." Wiile WVestern Oregon is so very prolific in agri. cultural productions, its timber and lumbering resources are equally as much so. The principal timn ber used for lumber are the firs and cedars. ThIese grow beside the streams and on the mountain ranges, affording excellent facilities for milling and for exporting lumber. Along the Columbia river from Dalles to its mouth, a distance of two hundred miles, ire dense forests of very large trees which make the hest of lumber. Much of it finds a market in San Francisco and the Sandwich Islands. No finer fisheries are to be found than here. From t:le highest mountain torrent, filled wsith delicious i i i i 1. I i i i i I i I I i i 1 I I i i i i . 12 30 WESTERN OREGON. speckled trout, to the largest rivers and the ocean bays, all its waters are quite alive with fish. The ocean bays furnish cod, sturgeon, carp, flounders, perch, herring, crabs and oysters. All the rivers along the coast furnish salmon-the largest are taken in Columbia. They ascend the river twice a year-in May and October. My presence among the Indians did not interrupt their fine and abundant fishery. An enormous basket was fastened to a projecting rock, and the finest fish of the Columbia, as.if by fascination, cast themselves by dozens into the snare. Seven or eight times during the day it was examined, and each time was found to contain two hundred and fifty salmon. The Indians, meanwhile, were seen on every projecting rock, piercing the fish witli the greatest dexterity. They who do not know this Territory, may accuse me of exaggeration when I affirm, that it would be as easy to count the pebbles so profusely scattered on the shores, as to sum up the different kinds of fish which this western river furnishes for man's support; as the buffalo of the north, and the deer from north to east of the mountains furnish daily foiod for the inhabitants of those regions, so do these fish supply the wants of the western tribes. One may form some idea of the quantity of sal I I I I 231 BEYOND THE WEST. i,)Il adnd other fish, by remiarkilg the time they as cetid the rivers. All the tribes inhabiting the shores choo-)se favorable locations; atid not only do they find nitritment during the season, but, if diligent, they dry, and also pulverize and mix with oil, a sufficienJt quantity for thle rest of the year. Incaleu!able shoals of salmon ascend to the river's source,;nd there die in shallow water. Great quantitied of trout and carp follow them, and regale themse!-ves on the spawn deposited by the salmon in holes and still water. The following year the young salmon descend to the sea, and I have been told (I cannot vouch for the authenticity) that they never return until the fourth year. Six different species are found in the Columbia. What is yon object which attracts the eye Of the observing traveler who ascends Columbia's waters, when the summer sky In one soft tint calm nature's clothing blends, As glittering in the sunbeam down it floats, 'Till some vile vulture on its carcass gloats. 'Tis a poor salmon, which a short time past, With thousands of her finny sisters came, By instinct taught, to seek and find at last The place that gave her birth; there to rem ain 'Till nature's offices had been discharged, And fry from out the ova had emerged. Her winter spent amongst the sheltered bays Of tht)e salt sea, where numerous fish of pray, With appetite keen. the number of her days Wo(uld soon have put an end to, could but they HTIve caught her; but, as they could not, she, Sp,)ing having come, resolved to quit the se,. I 232 WESTERN OREGON. And moving with the shoal along the bay, at length She reached the outlet of her native river; There tarried for a little to recruit her strength, So tried of late by cold and stormy weather, Sporting in gambols o'er the banks and sands, Chasing the tiny fish trequenting the-e in bands. But ah! how little thought this simple fish The toils and perils she was yet to suffer, The chance she ran of serving as a dish For hungry white man or for Indian's supper, Of enemies which the stream abounds, When lo! she's by fisher's net surrounded. Partly conscious of her approaching end, She darts with m eiteori swiftess to and fro, Striking the firail meshes within which she's penned, Whlich bids defiance to her stoutest blow. To smaller compass by degrees the snare is drawn, When with a leap she clears it and is gone. Once more at large with her companions, now Becoming more cilltious froIl her late escape, She keeps in dieper water, and thinks how Foolish she was to get in such a scrape, As mounting further up the stream, she vies With other fish, in catching gnats and flies. And as she on her way did thus enjoy Life's fleeting moments, there arose a panic Amongst the stragglers, who at length deploy Around their elder leaders quick as magic; While she, unconscious of the untimely rout, Was by a hungry otter singled out. Vigorous was the chase-on the marked victim shot Through the clear water, while in quick pursuit Followed her amphibious foe, who scarce had got Near enough to grasp her, when with turns acute, And leaps and( revolutions, she so tried the otter, He gave up the lhunt Witli merely having bit her. II I I 233 BEYOND THE WEST. Scarce had she recovered fromn her weakness, when An ancient eagle of the bald head kind, Winging his dreary way to'ards some lone glen, Where was her nest, with four plump eaglets lined, Espied the fish, which he judged quite a treat, And just the morsel for his little ones to eat. And sailing in spiral circles o'er the spot Where lay his pray, then hovering for a time To take his wary aim, he stooped and caught His booty, which he carried to a lofty tree, Upon whose topmost branches he first adjusted His awkward load ere with his claws he crushed it. ' Ill is the wind that blows no person good;' So said the adage, and as luck would have it, A huge gray eagle out in search of food, Who just had whet his hunger with a rabbit, Attacked the other, and the pair together In deadly combat fell into the river. Our friend, of course, made off when she'd done falling, Some sixty yards, and well indeed she might, For ne'er, perhaps, a fish got such a mauling Since Adam's time, or went up such a bight Into the air and come down helter-skelter, As did this poor production of melter. All this, with many other dangers, she survived, roo manifold in this short space to mention; So we'll suppose her to have now arrived Safe at the Falls, without much more detention Than one could look for, where so many liked her Company, and so many Indians spiked her. And here a mighty barrrier stops her way, The tranquil water finding in its course Itself beset with rising rocks, which lay As though they said,'return ye to your source,' Bursts with indignation, fury, from its bondage, now Rushes in foaming torrents to the chasm below. I 231 I WESTERN OREGK)N. The persevering fish then at the foot arises, Laboring with redoubled vigor,'mid the surging tide, And finding by her strength she vainly strives To overcome the fiood, though o'er and o'er she tried, Her tail taken in her mouth, and bending like a bow, That's to full compass drawn, aloft herself doth throw. And springing in the air, as would a silver wand, That blended end to end, and upwards cast, Headlong she falls amid the showering waters, and Gasping for breath, against the rocks is dashed. Again, again she vaults-again she tries, And in one last and feeble effort-dies." Our space will not allow of a detailed account of the very large variety of articles which this valley is capable of producing. All the grains grow and produce abundantly, never yet having failed, and are of the best quality. The same is true of such fruits as apples, pears, plums, cherries, currants, and all the varieties of berries. The prospecter has discovered in Western Oregon gold, silver, copper, iron, lead and coal in reasonable quantities, and although this country is especially adapted to agricultural and pastoral pursuits, the present indications are that its mineral wealth makes it almost certain that the miner's pick, as well as the farmer's plough, must furrow the face of mother earth, west of the Cascade Mountains. CLIMATE OF WESTERN OREGON. The climate here has shown itself to be a healthy one during the long residence of some of the early 235 BEYOND THE WEST. missionaries and settlers. There does not seem to be any natural causes for the encouragement of dis ease, if we except the tendency to rheumatic difficul ties occapionally, as in San Francisco, which are caused by the cold winds from the ocean sweeping inland to the arid plains. These winds are a healthy provision of nature, and impart to the country a climate free from pestilential diseases; but it is necessary for those who have delicate constitutions, to protect themselves against the rapid change of temperature which is sometimes caused by the winds from the sea sweeping in suddenly, displacing the warm air of the valleys. However, with proper care to the manifest laws of health, the bodily man. can hardly find a better climate for health and development. The nights are always cool, and sleep, "nature's sweet restorer," becomes a regular refreshment. The winters are monotonous and somewhat disagreeable on account of the almost constant rain. The Californians call these Wallamet neighbors "web-footed," but we did not see the web; jesting at their lack of enterprise, meaning that the wet climate has made them aquatic, while they reply that they are solvent, and do not borrow money at two and three per cent. a month to buy champagne with. I 236 WESTERN OREGON. The sumrmers are delightful; the temperature o the day is agreeable, the air bright and clea warmer ini the after part of the day than in th morning,'nd falling again to coolness in the evening Sultriness, such as we sometimes experience in ou home country, is never found in these region The greatest heat in summner never has that debi tating effect which the summer heat sometimes he in the Atlantic State(s. It was remarked by farm ers here that their cattle can endure more woe under the hot sun of summer, with less exhaustio than they could in the States from which the came. The climate of the coast country is more moi and cooler than the country lying back to the eas ward, on account of:ts nearness to the sea. Th soil is black and rich, (like that about Chicago supporting an immense growth of vegetation. Te prairie places are covered with good grass; als the hillsides with a very heavy growth where te forests are not too heavy. The temperature of the coast counties is low than that of the interior, and is more uniform. Th fogs from the sea in summer and the rains in wi ter serve to keep the grass in excellent condition th year round. With these natural favorable circut stances, together with some others, this would see I I i I I II i i. i I i I I I 237 I i i I i i i I i II I i i i 1, I 11I i I 1 . i f I i i e III I t II -i .L i i If F I, I 4 BEYOND THIE WEST. to be the most favorable country for dairying-in deed, the best on the Pacific coast, as the valleys of the interior are the granaries. Could some of our Herkimer County daiirymen transfer their fine mrrilking hlerd(s to these valleys and hills of perpetual green-one luxuriant pasture year after year-with their present knowledge of the business, it would be to them a promised land flow ing with milk (if not honey). Truly they would find here a goodly heritage-no dreary winter one half the year to consurnme the products of the other half. Nature here in the coast counties is constantly re newing herself; and with proper industry and management (if a failure occurred it could not be charged to the account of the country) would constantly pour her treasures in the lap of the intelligent and industrious dairyman. While we view with commendable pride the cities, villages and towns, growing great and prosperous, surrouuded by liberal and generous fertility, supplying every want and luxury, we feel as though we would be rebuked should we leave Oregon, more especially the Wallamet Valley, without drop ping a few thoughts in commemoration of- the early emigration across the continent. Coming here, as they did, so far away fi-romrn their friends and native land, in a country claimed and occupied (whlich is I 2.38 WESTERN OREGON. nine te'iths of the lawv) by a foreign go take upon themselves the deprivations of the way and settlement, is unp the history of America, and, perhaps, i Aside from any right we had to Orego discovery, exploration, cession and conti possession of the country was needed to title indisputable. Nothing was comp it, and this the early immigrants to Or in favor of the nation, in the presence and subjects of a princess claiming to exercised, a sovereign jurisdiction over able to crush out the rising colony, eitl or by refusing them such supplies in th condition as were indispensable to thei They occupied the extraordinary and anomalous position of a people who, wit either renounced their country, or bee by it, were nevertheless without one. We have already said all and more t intended to say of New England sho mind runs unbridled, and we are dwellin than fond reverence upon the history or fathers, who established a State without lasting (we hope) than the rock upon disembarked. The heart of the philan patriot swells with just and honorabl I I I I i, i I I I I I I iI!i i i i i I I I I I I I 2i3) I', I I i thropist and i e pride and i 240 BEYOND THE WEST. ! I4 gratitude to a watchfil and guiding Providence, as he reads the story of the settlement of Jamestown, and notices so many selfsacrifices, hardships and suffering endured with an unusual degree of the most heroic fortitude. But as memory picks up and binds together the exhausting journey of many months, dangers and perils, exposed to hostile In dian tribes over arid deserts and bleak mountains, I am compelled, as we stand here now and survey this beautiful and rich country, to express the opinion that all history, both ancient and modern, may be challenged to furnish an instance of colonization more replete with difficulties overcome, fraught with more discouragements sustained and submitted to, as those which characterize the settlement of the beautiful and productive valley of the Wallamet. After several years of negotiations, which resulted in the final adjustment of the territorial controversy, to the neglect and injury of the settlers, a treaty was concluded and signed at Washiiigton, Juine 15, 1846, and ratified at London, July 17, of the same year. The appearance on the Columbia of the United States ship Stark, the same year, cheered the hearts of the settlers, and upon seeing the stars and stripes displayed, they were greeted by the spontaneous' shouts of a people whose hearts were filletd with a I i i i 1 1 I i i 1I :Ii i Ii I i iI iI iII I .I i I i .11 I i t i' i I I iI 1 I i I II i II i i I I L- - - '..-. I... WESTERN OREGON. thousand glorious recollections which clustered around and covered, as it seemed to them, the em blet- of their nrow new country's nationality onl the Pacific coast. SCENERY. Nowhere west of the Mississippi, can a country ale foun.d where tile general scenery is so varied and magnificent as in Oregon. The massive Rocky Mountains to the east; the steeper slopes of the Cascale Mountain ranges in the centre, and the coast range on the west, covered tar up thleir ragged sides with magnificent forests, while between tihem are rolling prairies, extensive plains and embowered lakes; unnumbered, long, wide and beautiful rich valleys, enhancing the appearance ()f grandeur and varied beauty; enhanced by the mauy magnificent rivers arid mountain stre-tms, which glide from mountain calnyons and glens in every direction, bearing onl thteir ceaseless flow the elements of prosperous cornmlnerce, productiveness and beauty. Whlen once upon the summit of the Cascade Mountains, thrown together in extraordinary confusion, the traveler's toil is repaid "In one view he may embrace the rugged steeps of the Green Mountainrs the blue, wooded slopes of the Alleghanies, and the ice-crowned peaks of thle Alps; the volcanic piles of tile Andes; the broad platteau of Brazil; the fertile -1 I 7 i I i i i i i I I 'I I I -i I I ,I I i I i ii i I 1 i l i 241 BEYOND THE WEST. prairies of the Upper Mississippi, and the la(wn)s, groves and copses of the sunnySouth. To the eastward he beholds an immense platteau or elevated plain, relieved at distant intervals by spurs from the monltain chains, and slopinig gently in different directions towards the various streams which, wending their way through mountain gorges to the ocean, or to some silent lake, drain the eastern portion of the State. To the west he surveys a country diversified by great rivers and small streamlets; by tall mountains and deeply ermbosomed vales; by gentle undulations and precipitous, high-walled canyons; by dark-frowning forests of pine and fir, spruce and cedar, which the eye fails to penetrate; and natural gardens, all carpeted over with luxuriant grasses, redolent with odors of wild flowers, and full of the music of winged choristers." This chain of mountains has 0so many larTe streams rushing over precipitous cliffs, leaping from fall to fall, and dashing and foamin)g over rocky beds-hence the characteristic name-Cascade. Many curious formations are found in the tops of the Rocky and Cascade Mountains, remarkable lakes, (you will recollect we mentioned one while ascending Mount Lincoln,) small mountains of cinders, as if fresh from the volcanic forge, sea shells and corals. One of these Mountain Lakes is thus described by a gentleman who visited it: I i I I I I 242 WkSTE ItN OREGON. "Upon rising the slope bounding the lake, the first impression made upon your mind is one of disappointment-it does not come up to your expectations, but this is only momentary. A seconid look, and you begin to comprehend the majestic beauties of the scenery spread out before you, and you sit down on the brink of the precipice, and feast your eyes on the remarkable grandeur. Your thoughts wander back thousands of years to the time when, where now is a placid sheet of water there was a lake of fire, throwing its cinders and ashes in every direction. The whole surroundings prove this lake to be the crater of an extinct volcano. The appearance of the water in the basin, as seen from the top of the mountain, is that of a vast circular sheet of canvas, upon which some painter had been exercising his art. Tile color of the water is blue, but in very many different shades, and, like the colors in variegated silk, continually changing. Nowv, a spot will be dark blue, almost approaching black; in the next moment it will change to a very pale blue, and it is continually changing from onie shiide to another. "I cannot account for this changeableness, as the sky was perfectly clear, anid it could not have been caused by any shadows. There was, Lovowever, a gentle breeze, which caused a ripple of the waters; this maty account for it. At first sight, a person would I I i i i i I I I I I I i I iI i i I i I 243 i ii i ii i i I I I I BEYOND THE WEST. nriot estimate the surface of the water to be more than two or three hundred feet below the summitof the surrounding bluffs, aind it is only after a steady look almost perpendicularly down into the water, that you begin to comprehend the distance. In looking down into the lake, the vision seems to stop before reaching the bottom; and, to use a common expression, you have to look twice before reaching the bottom. Heretofore, it has been thought by those who have visited the lake, that it was impossible to get to the water; and this was also my impression at first sight, and I should have been contented to remain on the summit, and view its beauties from that point, without attempting to get to the water; but Sergeant Stearns and Mr. Ford, who, after gazing a while from the top, disappeared over the precipice. and in a few minutes were at the bottom near the water's edge, where no human being ever stood before. Their shouts induced Mr. Coats and myself to attempt the feat, which is in fact only perilous it imagination. "A spring of water bursts out of the mountain near the top, on the side where we were, and by following down the channel which the water has maide,.a good footing may be established all the way down. Ill all probability, this is the only place in the whole circumference where the lake is accessible, althougli I I I I i t i i I i i i I 244 WESTERN OatEGON. Sergeant Stearns clambered around the lake foel a short distance, and ascended to the sunmmit by a d(ifterent route frotn the one we descended-yet he does not think he could go down where he came up. Tile water in the lIke is as clear as a crystal, and is about the samtue temperature as the well water iii Rogue River Valley. "We saw no fish of any kind, nor even insects in the water. The only thing we saw that indicated that there are fish in the lake was a kitigfi,her. In ascending, I measured the distance as well as I c(,ud, from point to point, by the eye, and conclude that it is from seven to eight hundred feet perpendicular, from the water to the summitof the bltiff. Tile l,ke seems to be very nearly circular, and is from sevenr to eighlt miles in diameter; and, except at two or three points, the bluff is about the same altitut(le. Near the western shore of the lake is an island about oie-half mile in diameter, upo)in which theie is considerable timber growing.'he island is not maore than a quarter of a mile from the western slioi'e of the lake, and its shape is a frustrum of a cone; the top seems to be depressed, and I think there is a small crater in the center of the island. I think a path could be made from the summit to the water's edge, at the western edge of the lake, for the formation seems to be entirely pomice stone at that poili)t, I I i I i I I I I I 24,) i I I I i I BEYOND THE WEST. and to sI(>t)e to the water's edge at a less angle than any othier place around the lake. At this point a boat could be safely let down to the water by a rope. "I do not know who first saw this lake, nor do I think it should be named after the discoverer.' Sergeant Stearns and Peyton Ford are the first white iuen who ever reached its waters; and if named af ter any person, should be named after them. But as I do not believe a more majestic sheet of water is to be found upon the face of the globe, I propose the name'Majesty.' It will be visited by thousands hereafter, and some person would dn well to build upon its banks a house where visitors could be entertained, and to keep a boat upon its waters, that its beauties might be seen to a better advantage." A railroad is now being built through the Wallamet Valley, called the Oregon Central. This road is intended to connect the Columbia River with San Francisco Bay, and will form a link in that o)ther great line of railway which is so much needed, and which will soon be constructed, connecting Lake Superior and Puget Sound with that Bay. As Editors sometimes say, before going to press, I learned that this Northern Road is already begun, and that a few hundred men are now at work on the eastern end. On account of Portland capital, the Oregon Central has been commenced at that place. But it will I I I I I I I I i i I I 2 In p I WESTERN OREGON. not long be the Northern terminus-it is situated too far from the Columbia River. A point for the Oregon Central is naturally on the Columbia, where it will connect by ferriage with a road down the Cowelitiz Valley from Puget Sound, making an unbroken line of road through Washington, Oregon and California, to San Francisco. The direction of the Oregon Central is as yet undecided, whether to take the road over the Calapooga, Umpaga and Siskiyon Mountainsdirectly southward, and open up the other two large valleys in Oregon, or to commence and take it through an easy pass through the Cascade Mountains, and then south. over a nearly level country to the head waters of the Sacramento. This would be the cheapest, and could be made to connect with the Union Pacific, while the other could take in its course some of the most desirable country in the State. Efforts are also being made to get a branch road from the Union Pacific to c,)nnect the upper Columbia at Dalles, Um,atilla or WVallamet. No part of our territory needs a railroad mole than Montana and Idaho, which this road would give them, and they are willing to lend their material aid to any company to get easier communication with the outer world. France, England and Spain had beeni looking tbfor --- qi i I i 247 BEYOND THE WEST. the great "River of the West" f,)r a hundred years. At the very time when Yankee enterprise was heading its little vessel through the white breakers at the mouth of the long sought river, Vancouver, at the head of an English exploring expeditioni, wats scanning the coast not far away. declaring that there was no such river. Lucky man was Captain Gray, of the ship Columbia, from Boston. His stout heart and adventurous character must have grown large with anticipation and dread as he ran for the "opening," and drove his vessel into the boisterous, rolling flood straight through the real channel and came out on the beautiful bay, twenty-five miles by six, which the river forms at its mouth, in 1792, the first keel which had ever plowed its waters. He ascended the ri.ver to the Cascades, and on his return found the British explorer, who had ascended the river one hundred miles to the place now bearing his name, Vancouver. This tjr many years was tile principal post of the Hudson Bay Company, on the Pacific, where one of their ships arrived annually with their supplies, and took away the furs and whatever else was obtained during the year to be sent home. Thus began the commerce of our Western coast, which now whiteIs every sea. This magnificent bay is enIcased by high hills, loaded I I i i I i 4 1 I i i I I vI Iil 248 WESTERN OREGON. heavily with great forests, broken by projecting highlands, making other smaller bays through which ran streams, whose valleys were far away among the hills. At the farthest limit of vision to the east, through a dark ridge Sowed down the wide and deep majestic river, whose emination and course was as yet a far away mystery; but it was evident, by the large quantity of water, that it drained an immense inland country. With the foaming brakers behind, and smooth waters before him, he had nothing to do but to wonder and admire as he sailed the greatest river of the West one hundred and forty miles to the Cascades." If he fully realized the importance of his discovery to the world, his heart must have dis tended with generous pride, and he a happy man, while he glided over the waters of the majestic river. The blue Columbia, sired by the eternal hills And wedded with the sea, O'er golden sands, tithes from a thousand rills, Rolled in lone majesty. Through deep ravine, through burning, barren plain, Through wild and rocky strait, Through forest dark and mountain rent in twain Toward the sunset gate. While curious eyes, keen with the lust of gold, Caught not the informing gleam, These mighty brakers age on age have rolled To meet this mighty stream.n. I i I i i I I f I 249 BEYOND THE WEST. Age after age these noble hills have kept The same majestic lines; Age after age the horizon's edge been swept By fringe of pointed pines. Summers and winters circling came and went, Bringing no change of scene; Unresting, and unhastening, and unspent, Dwelt nature here serene. Till God's own time to plant of Freedom's seed, In this secluded soil, Deigned forever unto blood and greed, But blessed to honest toil. Be mine the dreams prophetic. shadowing forth The things that yet shall be, When through the gate the treasures of the North Flow outward to the sea." 250 CHAPTER XXVIII. THE LOUISIANA PURCHASE. The Louisiana Purchase from Napoleon was made by President Jefferson in 1803, for fifteen millions of dollars. It included the present State of Louisi. an'a and the entire country west of the Mississippi, between the Spanish possessions on the south and British America on the north, more than half of the present area of the United States. We had value received then; got more for our money than the recenrt purchase of Alaska. Comment is unnecessary. Shortly after the purchase, in obedience to an act of Congress, the President sent Lewis and Clark, officers in the United States army, to explore the vast and unknown region which he had added to the now seemingly small republic. The principal purpose of the expedition was, however, to ascertain thle possibility of a road across the continent, the inspection of the pioneer movement for a Pacific railway. They outfitted at the then little French town of St. Louis. Steadily, but slowly ascending the Missouri to its sources in the Rocky Mountains, they with much difficulty crossed the i i I I I I i BEYOND THE WEST. ranges to the head waters of the Columbia and followed it to the ocean..It was a remarkable undertaking at the time, full of the wildest romance adti adventure over the then untrodden continent by white men. The little band were scouts of the grand army now after the " Golden Fleece." and the conquest of half a hemisphere-the armly of civiliza tion. The adventurous explorers traveled along rivers in rafts, and in small boats of their'own construction, sometimes propelled by sails, oars and towlines, and upon the land on horseback and on foot. They were the first white men to see the Great Falls of the Missouri and go through the gateways of the great mounIDtains, aI)d to discover and explore the great River of the West, pass all its whirlpools and rapids to its inhospitable entrance with the sea. After an absence of over two years they once mnore returned to the place from whence they started, but not as they went out, neatly shaven awtl in broadcloth; they looked at themselves, and the inhabitants gazed at them, who had long been given up as dead; deceived at first sight by their clothing of skins and swarthy faces, supposing them to be the wildest of all the Indians. R'p Van Winkle's resurrection, both a- to himself and his old neighbors, evaporates into thin air at the first warmn i 252 I'HE LOUISIANA PURCHASE. ry-)s of the early mot-tling suin, when compared with the wonderful achievement of these resurrected men from an untknown savage land. Going o,ut they made the distance from the mouth of the Missouri to the month of the Columbia, four thousand one hundred and thirty-four miles. Tihe' returned by a nearer route, shortening it to three thousand five hundred miles. Clark was a Kentuckian, belonging to a family of the first settlers, whose familiarity with Indian warfare and character especially fitted him for this undertaking. He was the military director, while Lewis applied himself principally to scientific investigation. Subsequently Clark was made Brigadier General, Governor of Missouri Territory, an.d Superintendent of Indian Affairs under President Monroe. He held the last position until his death in St. Louis, in 1838. Lewis was a native of YViginia, had been in the army, and afterwards Private Secretary to President Jefferson. In 1809 hbe was appointed Governoi of Missouri Territory. He found that quiet life unendurable, and fell by his own hand at a Tennessee inn, at the early age of thirty-five. The unflinching perseverance and daring of these explorers, saeit forth in obedience to the first nrational instinct, wlhich has now culminated in that _~ ~~~~~~~. -'fI -. -I I I i I I II f Ii t 2-t. i I I I II I i I i I i i I i I I I I i I I iI r BEYOND THE WEST. magnificent work, thie Tirans-Continental Railway, then excited the warm enthusiasm of their country men. The government recognized and appreciated their services by giving them important public offices, and Congress maae iarge grants of public land to each. It would seem right for an appreciative people who are ever ready to reward real merit and ap preciate faithful service, to erect a suitable monu ment at some eligible point on the Pacific Railway, to perpetuate in a substantial way the first practical steps of this remarkable achievement. Their re port describes the Great Falls of Missouri as being two thousand five hundred miles from St. Louis, within the limits of the territory, (now Montana,) just where it has since been found-a sublime spectacle, which, since the creation, has been lavishing its magnificence upon a desert unknown to civilization. Lewis found the river three hundred yards wide, *down among precipitous rocks, with the water falling eighty feet. On the north the current was broken by jutting rocks, and its spray rose in great snowy clouds arched with rainbows. The stream here is a series of descents in about thirteen miles of cascades and rapids, having a fall of three hundred and eighty feet. The upper fall is forty feet, I I I I I I 254 THE LOUISI.kNA PUR[CHASE and extends across the river in a haltf'circle. It is picturesque and beautiful. At its base are several small falls of three and four yards, while the banks on either side close in and form a deep gorge a thousand feet below the barren plain. These very high walls of yellow sandstone give impressiveness to the swiftly falling stream. The enraged river dashes over the lower Great Falls, like Niagara, vailed in snowy foam. The abrupt banks, the dazzling interesting rainbows, together with the immense volume of water, will make these falls a favorite with tourists when.good facilities are made to reach them. i I I I I i 255 I i i I i i i I i i i INDIAN TRIBES, C4HAACTERP, AND HABITS. 257 We have reserved what we thir,k proper to say as to the natives,~to be given together in a sin,le chapter, rather than to give scattered items ai(st incidents which present themselves to ton ists tr(quently while in the land of these original inh,.b-i tants. ituch has been written of the North Amnericant Indian-perhaps too much-and while his defiant character, his wild, natural roving existence, and his unhappy fate have somewhat inspired the historian and the poet, his simple habits, desires and sentiments have had a charm for the philosopher. Yet, we believe, had Fernimore Cooper lived, and had the varied experience with these people of nature which some of his elder brothers have had, the world would have been saved a very large load of a little fict and a wonderful amount of fiction. Subjects of far-fetched narrations, embellished with the most choice words and beautiful thoughts, ofteni with words that breathe and thoughts that burn, after being stripped of such veneering and varnish are very diminutive when seen and known in their own home. The far-fetched beauty and greatness evaporates in light mist. Thus it is with the Western Indians, when we go where they are, and aim,)st live with them. While their simplicity excites oiur sympathy, the truth colpels ine to ask, What a.n I i 'i I I I II I i I I i II i i :i I "I ii I I i 1 I ii I i I i INDIAN TRIBES, CHARACTEP., AND HABITFS. 257 We have reserved what we thirk proper to say as to the natives,*to be given together in a sie chapter, rather than to give scattered items ald incidents which present themselves to ton i.ts tr(et quently while in the land of these original inh;-,i tants. Aiuch has been written of the North American InIdian-perhaps too much-and while his defiant character, his wild, natural roving existence, and l-is unhappy fate have somewhat inspired the historican and the poet, his simple habits, desires and se,itiments have had a charm for the philosopher. Yet, we believe, had Fenrimore Cooper lived, and had the varied experience with these people of nature which some of his elder brothers have had, the world would have been saved a very large load of a little fbct and a wonderful amount of fiction. Subjects of far-fetched narrations, embellished with the most choice words and beautiful thoughts, ofteni with words that breathe and thoughts that burn, after being stripped of such veneering and varnish are very diminutive when seen and known in their own home. The far-fetched beauty and greatness evaporates in light mist. Thus it is with the Western Indians, when we go where they are, and almost live with them. While their simplicity excites our sympathy, the truth compels me to ask, What cai,l I , 1. - - - - - 1.- I-....... I i 'I. l i i I i i i l i i l i iI i I II I iI II i ii l i i I i BEYOND THE WEST. life mean to them? What are their joys and sorrows, their fears? hopes and ambitions? What real benefit are they to the world for being in it? All their desires seeIn to be centered in one, and that in a voracious appetite. He seems to know nothing but his stomach-to get all he can and devour it. The Indian judges all things by material results; and when he heeds the teachings of Christianity, it is to better his physical, rather than his spiritual condition, for of the latter he has a very feeble conception-only so far as he can better his animal existence. Hence, his attentiveness to the white man's preaching about his wonderful religion, while the Indian desired such a material Heaven, as he could imagine from his earthly experience. Heaven was to him a land of plenty; therefore, the most he could desire was to go where there would be none oif his bodily wants unsupplied. This reasoning is natural; the bodymust be supplied by civilization, before the wants of the soul can be developed and appreciated, for it is the unchangeable law of Nature and of God. Into this error the Missionaries fell, who went early among the Indian tribes of the Mountains. They taught religion first, and every day matters of life afterward-and failure was the result. My experiences with these people were both unpleasant and agreeable. A little unpleasant, and al I I I I l I I I 258 INDIAN TRIBES, CHARACTER AND HABITS. 259 so a little dangerous, when they came down upon us on the plains a few miles above Julesburg. The spectacle presented, as they came at full speed on horseback, painted, their long bushy hair flying straight out behind, with bedaubed faces, armed, brandishing their ready guns, and yelling in old Indian style-wild and hideous as it was possible for even Indians to look-was one which would strike with a palsy, at least, the inexperienced heart and arm. What could four poorly armed men, with one woman and two children (our coach load) do against a band of warriors like these in full fighting trim? They evidently intended to have headed us off, taking advantage of location; but they either did not get to their chosen place as soon as they intended, or we passed along the mountain faster than they calculated; for when they rose on the crest of the range, we had passed a little above them, so that they were obliged-to follow us, anid the race was one for life. In this case the race was truly with the swift, as they had the battle all on their side. We had six large, fine horses, fleet, fat and strong, with a good smooth road after passinig the place where they designed to head us off. The race was short, but one of great speed. We gained an adobe residence about a mile and a half ahead, strongly fortified by an outrr wall, where we were sccure-not, however, as we l I I l I I B,EYOND IHE WEST. started, for one of tlhe party was no more-a welldirected bullet from an Indianm rifle went through his breast, and death was instantaneous. He was riding the telegraph operator's horse, in the rear of the stage, while the telegrapher was on the seat with the driver, wishing to send by him some busi ness to Denver. The Indians came dashing down so suddenly, he not seeing them as soon as the eagleeyed driver, who was on the constant lookout for them, was cut off from escape. This capture gave them a good suit of clothes, a fine horse, a rifle, two horse pistols and a full set of telegraph instruments. We had seen on the opposite side of the Platte dui-ing the previous day, several small parties of Indians back in the foot-hills, and at one pllace theyt dasbed down, surrounded a freighter's oxen who had stopped close on the bank of the river and turned the cattle out to feed for noon, and hastily drove them back in the mountains, and left him alone withl his wagons and yokes. We continued on till we came to a small collection of men in the road, who informed us that the whole stage load coming east had been killed but a little while before. The Indians had secreted them selves in an abandoned station of the stage company wviere they were not discovered until the fatal volley was fired, and the iImmortal spirits traveled to I 7 i I i 260 INDIAkN TiIBEIS CHAttACTEit AND HABITS. 261 (-Lothler world. They detiuded thle b,)dies, scalped them, took the hors,es and such portions of the Liruess and coach trimmings as they wanted, and left ahll tire rest lying on the ground. We had a.-. hr,-t consultation as to what was best t,, be done, and concluded to return back to the station six mikes, and remain over night, which we did, Starting next morning, we had,ne i-t[)I.lt five miles, when they came upon us. Had our stage arrived at their murderous place first, we would have been their victims instead of the other load, as they! ad chosen a place nearly where the two stages pass each other. We could not stand many scenes like this; yet I do not design to undertake to put up on paper such a gloomy, heart-sickening description. But the deep impressions made then and there, will live as long as those who beheld it, and they will be thankful that it was not themselves. This is but one of the close chances of life, whi(chl travelers were con stantly taking while journeying about the country at this time. It is not my purpose to trouble the reader with any more narrow escapes of life, which were eucoIun tered during the two years and over, that I was in and about the country. Several times, the two-edg ed sword seened to be suspended with a single hair over my head. Yet, thanks be to God vwho gave me I I I i i BEYOND THE WEST. the victory, I escaped unscathed, and left the country with much stouter health than I had ever had before. Thlere is one element in Indian character which I am quite persuaded has been misunderstood or falsely represented; that is 7zroism. Instead of having a commendable patriotic courage, which demands of us respect, he has an unfeeling, savage, brutal, stoical insensibility, to confound which with commendable heroism would be to destroy the distinction between the civilized and the savage. Would any one dignify with the name of heroism the conduct of the Spartan boy, who having stolen the fox, concealed it under his clothes till it ate into his body, rather than betray the theft. This is the kind of courage for which the Indian has received so much unmerited praise. They do not anywhere, from Mexico to the British Possessions, seem to have any of the better feelings of a common humanity notwithstanding the many opportunities some of them have had. There are some few exceptions, but I speak of them generally. A person is among portions of the scattered tribes from the time he enters this far West country, more or less, till he leaves it. A few hang about every place where there is any chance to pick up a subsistence. They are friendly when not on thl)e war path, and a person I I t 262 INDIAN TRIBES, CHARACTER AND HABITS. 263 takes no risk meeting or being with them. Ever begging, ever hungry, self is all the world and all there is of it to him. We have sometimes thought that if he had been where a certain other individual was, he would have swallowed the whale instead of the whale swallowing him. My acquaintance and observation while with several tribes of these children of nature, has been such as to cause me not to yield implicitly to the exaggerations of romance, and those traits which the license of song has assumed, will, in most instances, disappear before the scrutiny of real unbiased investigation. The savage-like Falstaff is by nature a coward; also treacherous, cruel and filthy. To show fear is to sharpen his appetite for blo(od. A determined coolness confounds and awes him when anything will. He will never stand up before determined courage, and never make an attack unless he has a decided advantage in position, Bradock-like and usually in numbers. The inhuman masacre in 1847 of Dr. Whitman, wife and children, together with many others, at the Waiilatput Mission, now in Northern Idaho, is but one of many heartrending bloody tragedies which the faithful missionaries have suiffered while endeavoring to give them the principles of a better life. We have selected Dr. Whitman's case as a specimen only for what haq 0 .1 I . BEYOND THE WEST. been re-enacted so often from early time to the presetit. This devout and faithful disciple, together with his amiable wife, had labored with these natives, and been a father and mother to themn for elevei long years, and the very ones they had taken in the Mission, and almost into the family, when the dreadful time came were among the first brutes to dip their hands in the blood of their benefactors. Doubtless, the reader remembers the horrible tragedy enacted at this mission, together with others in Northern Oregon about this time. There seemed to be a combination among the tribes to drive or exterminate the whites from their country, as they claimed. A detailed narration of the horrors of the Waiilatput massacre, together with the individual sufferings of the captives whose lives were saved, would fill at volume as large as this. It is my purpose to give these people only a passing notice, and to give a few characteristic features as they impressed themselves upon my mind, and then leave them. As to the Indians' moral nature, that is nearly alike everywhere, with few exceptions; all are cruel and treacherous. His gospel is literally the "gospel of blood." "An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth." Vengeance is his first commandment, and indeed so is the Chlristian's whole di-calog'le. I I I I 1, I 'i I' 264 INDIAN TRIBES, CHARACTER AND HABITS. 265 " er the general name of Blackfeet are comled several tribes, such as the Surcies. tle i, the Blo,d Indians, and the Gros Ventries rairies, who roam about the southern branches Yellow Stolne and Missouri Rivers, together me other tribes further north. The bands g the Wind River Mountains, and the courncent, at the time we are treating, were Gros of the Prairies, which are not to be conl with the Gros Ventres of the Missouri, who bout the lower part of the river, and are r to the white men. This hostile oand keeps he head waters of the Missouri, and numbers nine hundred fighting men. Once in the of two or three years they abandon their u odes and make a visit to the Arapahoes ot t ansas. Their route lies either through the ountry and the Black Hills, or through the the Nez Perces, Flatheads, Bannacks and lees. As they enjoy the r favorite state of y with all these tribes, their expeditions re o be conducted in the most lawless and prestyle; nor do they hesitate to extend their ings to any party of white men they meet ,llowing their trail, hovering about tlheir waylaying and dogging the caravans of the aders a,d murdering the solitary trapper. L______ - -- I .1 I preben Pigeons of'the P of the with so infestin trv adia Veintres founded I,-eep a friendly about t about course usual a the Ark Crow c lands of Sho-,hon hostilit f)rone t datory inaraudi witli, p free t,r BEYOND THE WEST. The consequences are frequent and desperate fights between them and the mnountaineers-in the wild defiles and fastnesses of the Rocky Mountains. Such were the Blackfeet, nor has their disposition changed but very little to this day, as many Montana miners know to their sorrow. While in the Middle Park, Colorado, there where encamped on the head waters of the Colorado a tribe of Utes, between five and six hundred, where were "Mongrels, puppies, whelps and hounds, And curs of low degree," who are quite peaceful and long suffering towards the whites; consequently I could go among and be with them with safety and freedom. I had the satisfaction to witness here one of those mysterious exhibitions of a "medicine man" over one of his dying brothers. Their first prescriptions are roots and herbs, of which they have quite a variety of species, and when these have failed their last resort is "medicine" or mystery. These professional gentlemen are of the highest order in their tribes, and some acquire skill in the medicinal world and large honors in their nation. In this case the old Indian was rapidly approaching his final end, and was nearly expiting, when the great "medicine man" appears in his strange and wonderful dress. I 266 INDIAN TRIBES, CHARACTER AND HABITS. 267 conjured up and fabricated during many life times of practice, and is the wildest and most fantastic that can be imagined, in which he envelops himself and makes his last visit to his dying patient, performing over and about him a numberless amount of charms in a mysterious way. But it was the decree of the Great Spirit that his patient should die, and it was beyond his mysterious efforts to save him, although he was supposed to know everything from the "Cedar of Lebanon to the hissop upon the wall.' To make a "medicine man" or doctor is very much alike in most tribes, and to qualify him to be a son of Esculapeus and practice his profession, he must take the discipline of their medical college, which is similar to some preachers in making a convert. A general camp meeting is held for several nughts, during which ai e various performancds, such as d ancing, hopping, screaching, incantations, extreme bodily exercises and nervous excitement,, sufficient to make many patients instead of a doctor. The constitution of the native is a strong one, and is capable of great physical endurance. Ultimately, 'however, one or more are overcome with superhu' man power which enters into him at that time, and instead of making him a saint, he is only a superstitious or mysterious Indiati doctor. He /1 BEYOND THE WEST. is not yet fully qualified; he must attend many courses of lectures, go through many mysterious performances before he is graduated aI)d allowed to heal the sick, to prophesy, dream dreams, and give victory to his people. In that great characteristic of all ancient andi mnodern civilization in which other barbarians hlave not been so deficient, brave as he might be in battle, skillful as he might be in the chase, stoical as he mnight be under the most cruel torture, he will im pose upon his squaw (wife) the most menial services; would give her censure, and sometimes blows, instead of acts of assistance and words of affection. Those tribes that had been long since favored with a sprinkling of civilization seem to have not profited in the least as it regards the treatment of their females, all slaves. The fabulous stories of civilization had not changed their simple hearts in this regard. The Indian by nature is lordly and tyranilical in his treatment of women, often beating them unmercifully, and sometimes those not of their own household. The tourist, through any of the tribes over the country, will often see these degraded females packed with all their worldly effects, (and perhaps some of the younger members of the family also) u)on;I her back when moving, while her great lord t 268 4~>m ~> ~ -~ ~( ~ ~ - ~ INDIAN MEDICINE MAN. Ee 1DIA\~'t1i'+lh. CHARiACTER AND HABITS. 269 a-nd Iiclian minster, unencumbered, save his gun or bow and arrows, walks as ptoudlvy as one having a little brief authority and monarch of all he surveyed. Oite would suppose that the Indian husband, when judged by the high and humane standard of Christianity, is to his wife like an island with a stream of cold water flowing around him-not a part of the main land of domestic happiness. The Inrdian's lordliness and oppression to their females I am persuaded is not caused from thl)e want of native affection, but from legendary habit. Theyseem tothiL)k it right, as a matter of course, having never knownii differently. They never can be made to paddle their Indian canoe kindly on that stream which runs sleepless night and day, gliding through the beautiful Teelinritig meadow of a higher, intelligent, Christianized domestic life, such as is expressed in the folowing stanzas: Thou art on my bosom sleeping, Gentle trusting wife of mile; And mine eyes are fondly keeping Love's unwavering watch o'er thine! Hushed shall be my very breath, While thy clear heart slutmbereth. Sleepest thou as slept in Eden, Slept in beauty holy Ea - Ere her soul with grief was laden — re her bosom could deceive; Wife! may thou thus ever be('liet' H t(t guile unknown to thee. I I I tI I I i I I I I I I -- i I i I. l i I I I BEYOND THE WEST. Clasped upon thy gentle bosom, Now thy white hands gently rest, Even as leaves around the blossom Of a slumb'ring rose are prest; Blossom of my life thou artThine, dear love, a rose-bud heart. Round thy neck my arm is wreathing Softly to thy lips I bow; And the perfume of thy breathing Plays upon my bending brow. Gentle wife! that fragrance breathes, From the sweetness of thy soul. i I I I I i i .i 270 CIAPTER XXX. l CHIAPTER XXX. = INDIANS MAKE A RAID ON THE ROAD-A WEEK AT ELK HORN STATION-THE HUNTER AND TRAPPER INCIDENTS IN HIS LIFE. As usual, the Indians had made a dash on the road the first of the season-in June, 1867-and more des perate than any before. The line was broken up for sixty miles ahead, the stations burned. the stage stock drawn off, and all killed that did not make their escape. We were obliged to remain a week at a stage station near old Fort Hallack, in the northern part of Colorado, before a sufficient number of men were collected to undertake an advance. The Stage Company employ, through this out of the way portion of the road, hunters whose business it is to furnish meat for a certain number of stations. They are either hired, or sell the meat by the pound to them. Where we stopped, " Elkhorn Station," was one of these hunters, by the name of Anderson, who furnished within himself a goo I spec;m nti, the very material ot which the heroes of the wilderness, mountains, traps and hunts, are made. Like Kit Carson, all bone and muscle-a kind of grayhound constitution. Hie was one of those who had trapped and hunted about and over the country for many years, i i i, i I i I i iI I zi i i i I II i i i i i i I BEYOND THE WEST. Ild not, or would not live awayi from the wi(ld the m(i n te ans. was one of those few survivors of that someaysterious class of old mountaineers which d in our imaginations more than reality; who king cy(-lopedi(ls of almost mysterious escapes citing a(iventnu res-unhounud volumes of travdent and ro)mn,nce. Buffalo hunts; desperate ters with) grizzly bears; remarkable wandern ong the mountains when lost; without food; lous endura,ince and hlairdships; hand to hand in in dcaily fights with Indians-but hlie even deen captured after so many hairbreadth esrom oitwvnrdl enemies. ike m;,,y others of the kind, had been suse to the (harms of these dusky beauties of ains artd plains, had set up for himself a wiekys family Imal. This is the only authority acdged l)y ai old mountaineer. She usually conin the lodge, (log house nowv,) regardless of d's bluster ou:side. He was the traveler's can Fiur Company, and I took gree,t ple-asure ting his cabin, as he hal a retentive men0old rela,te the most interesting portions oi his in life —while we at the East roamed the y in imagination, only as tlhat great cou)ltry b the Wels vwhere the fiur trader went for his I i i i i I i I I I I I I I I I I 272 ci)uiitr I)eN,orid i - - ELKHORN STATION. pelriy, and the home of the adventurous trapper and Indians. When meat was needed, he would take his horses-one to ride, and the other with a hunter's pack saddle, so made that quarters of meat could be hung' up)on it-and go far away in the mountains for ells and antelope, and never return without meat. I asked him how it was possible for him to escape the Indians? He said he always traveled on high ground, on the ridges, that he could better see his game and enemies; never allowed himself to be ambushed, and that the red-skins had long since learned, that to attack an old hunter, where he had a chance, was sure death to some of their number. A true mountain-man, he said, repudiated fear; he wcmoll fight, even against superior numbers, for the Indian~; had both fear and respect for a man who had deter mined courage-who asked no quarter, and wouldl neither give it to others. "Why," said he, "I oirce made over a hundred of the brave Blackfoot Indians run." "I How could that be possible?" I asked. "It was a year when the coppered devils were unusually hostile, and took the top of the head off of every white man they could catch. When out huntinrg on a fleet hlorse, I suddenly came upon a war party of them. I turned and ran, and they all chased me!" Trappers usually ge to the lea(Ld of streams, fair up I i i II I I i I i I I I i i I i I I i I I i I BEYOND THE WEST. in the mountains early in the fall, where they begin their trapping, and descend the stream as the weath er becomes colder, and fit)ally winter in the valley. There are three kinds of trappers. The genuii)e free trapper regards himself as superior to the other two. He owned his own horses, traps, arms and ammunition, and all the appliances appertaining to the business. He took whatever route he thought offered the best success; hunted and trapped wherev er he pleased; traded with whoever offered highest prices for his furs; dressed gaily in the style of the country; moved in the first society, and occasionally one of this highest order of nobility had been lucky enough to spring his trap and catch an Indian wife. Should the free trapper have a wife, she went with the camp to which he attached himself, furnished with one of the best horses, elegantly equipped (in their style) and dressed in the best goods the country afforded-unusually ornamented with beads, red ribbons, buckskin fringes and feathers. She was truly Fifth Avenue society, both in her own estima tion, and also in the eyes of her tribe, and saved her from that slavish drudgery to which she would have been subjected, had she been the wife of an Indian. Another class of free trappers, who were furnished with their outfit by the company for whomn they trapped, were obliged to agree to a certain stipula I I I i I i I II i I I i II I I 11 iI i II I I, I i i II I I II i I I I II t i i i i1 i 274 ii t i1,I I ELKHORN STATION. ted price for their furs, before the trapping and hunting commenced. The hired trapper by a company was regularly indentured-bound to hunt and trap faithfully for his employers, and to do anything else required of him in the field and camp-to do every duty-a man servant. I had a curiosity to know what was done with the peltry while they were trapping and mrnoving long distances over the country. Where a sufficient amount has been obtained, a pit is dug in the ground six or seven feet deep; then a drift is made at the bottom under the solid earth, where a room is exca. vated of sufficient size to hold the furs, in which they are placed, and the apartrnent is closed up; then the hole is filled with earth, and all traces of digging removed. These catches are the only store-house of the hunter. Having to remain here at the station so long, I took especial care to make the acquaintance of the hunter-now my friend; but who prided himself, most of all, otl lhaving been a "mountain man," and in relating the most striking incidents of his huntiag and trapping life, from Mexico to British America, and the Mississippi to the Pacific. The daring and reckless side of a story, is the only one dwelt upon in narrating his and other's hardships and daring deeds, and narrow escapes of life, which he is I I i I I i i i I i i i i I BEYOND THE WEST. nlOw ready to declare was only so much pastime. He did not, in his romantic and interesting narrations-extending over many years in these then dist(int and lawless wilds-attempt to disguise the fact, that he had done as a mountain man, "those things which he ought not to have done, and left undone those things which he ought to have done." Upon examining my notes taken at the time, with the aid of memory, a few incidents in the history of this kind of life will be given, to "tell the tale as 'twas told to me." After a camp is organized, and is on the march, a military discipline is observed; a leader is chosen,known as a "Booshway," whose business it is to take the supervision-look after the condition of the whole camp; who goes in advance of the column. Near himn is a led mule, of known speed and trustworthiness; he is the portable office of the company; carries the books, papers and the agreements with their men. Then follow the pack animals, each bearing three packs, snugly fastened, so as not to slip in traveling. These are in charge of men called camp-keepers. The trappers and hunters have two horses or mules each-one to ride and the other to take their traps. Should there be women or cl ildren in the caravan, tile)y are all1 mounted. I' the oountry is safe, the car-avani mnoves carelessly aiid stometities scattered. I I I I i 2'i 6 I i i i I i I i I i i i i i i I I i I iI ii i ELKHORN STATION. But should danger!)( a),,)r,heided the who move in compact column, fully prepared to re attack which couldtl be made agaiiist them. tie Booshway," as he( is called, )riigs up the the party, whose business is to see to the or condition of the camp, and that nothing is hIind on the way. When it is time to camp night the leader stops, anld selects a space wh be devoted to himself, in its center. The oer fast as they arrive form a circle, the last ma ing up the rear to see that all are there. 1 mals are quickly unpacked and turned out t being guarded, but when night approaches t brought within the circle aind picketed, by a stake in the ground, to which a rope is f The men are then divided into messes, as in ry camp. That part of camp business wh sisted of eating was not one of very much cc tion, where the only article of food is meat raw ed or dried. At a specified time, all is camp, and the guard only is awake. During the night, the officer of the guar the guard a chlallerige, "All's well!" which is ed by all, "Alls well!" At daylight, after mnian has galloped at a distance aroul d the c see if all is safe, the horses are turned out closely guarded; after which, they are dri 'i I I L 'i i i i I i 277 iI i i i I i I i I I i i i I i i i I I II I am p, t,,) to feed, vel'i up, I i -..i I i Th F278 BEYOND THE WEST. repacked, the mene. mounted, atid the moves off in the usu};l ord(lei. In a wiLtr mritt tl)e lea(](er aiid the second man oc the same positions. Other regulations ar The business of the trapper during thl tral i,ping is onily to trap and look after his and when he returns at night he takes to the clerk, where they are counted an his credit. The camp mrelli take off th prepare them for packiiig.'While t camnp there are six persons to each lodg pers and two camp-keepers; consequent, plers are well cared for, h:iviiig but l aside from occasionally hunting for WVhjeli thle huliters return with a quanti om it is deposited in front of the Booshw and the second man cuts it in pieces, or be dorie. When the men comne they backs to the pile, and the "smaller Boos t a piece, and holding it up, asks: "Wh this?" The man answering says, " Num fifteen, meaning his lodge. The num i c:lled to colme for the mneat. In thii hl'iid way the meat is distributed, and wvici) ic iust be satisfactory to all. A gull is never fired in camp ulnder stacees sholt,f, ~an Iidial) attaick. TI I I iI I i I I i i i i I I I i I I II i i i i I ti I II i I I I. ,gtjy circum- i I ie guns are i i i i - i ELKHORN STATION. regularly inspected, like those of a well regulated army, and any lack of care in this regard is followed by a fine, and is charged to the account of the careless camp-keeper. When the camp breaks up in the spring, the skits used during the winter for lodges being thoroughly dried and smoked by lodge fires, they do not shrink by water like new hides, and are cut up and made into moccasins. This is an important condition, as trappers are very much in the water. A new hide would shrink after becoming dry, so that it would be useless for this purpose without being soaked eachtime after becoming dry. The trapper, for the same reason, is obliged to remove the bottom of his buckskin breeches and replace them with blanket leggings, which he wears during the trapping season. Life in the Rocky Mountains at this time (1836) was one constant battle ground, and a rigid military discipline had to be constantly maintained. Constant vigilance all over the country was truly the price of life and property. The frequent incidents of a trapper's life filrnishes material which needs little embellishment to make interesting narrations, both to while away the winter evening in the camp, and to somewhat astonish the far away reader in his secure and happy home. i i I I I I I i i i i I i I i I i i i i i I I i BEYOND THE WEST. The winter rendezvous of the American Fur Cornpany this winter was on the Yellow Stone River, where it makes a long turn to the south and east, enclosing a large prairie covered with good gras;s, having extensive cotton wood bottoms, a favorite place of the Company's to make their winter encampment. Outr hunter made up one of this caImp, and while out trapping with two others on one of the branches of the river, a somewhat interesting adventure befell the little party. Having killed a fat buffalo cow in the afternoon, they cut out the most choice parts, made a camp in a small grove, partook liberally of their meat, the remaining store of choice pieces were divided and placed, after the manner of hunters, under their heads, betaking themselves to their blanket couches for the night, while the snlow was falling about and over them. Being now filled with the creature comfort, their ever ready gun beside them, no Indians or wild animals disturbed nature's sweet restorer," sleep. Our hero trapper was awakened about daylight by something walking over him heavily and snuffing about his head, with familiarity and a most insulting freedom. It was not long before his Yankee powers of guessinig determined who the early morning intruder might be. It was disagreeably certain that aln old grizzly bear, whose keen i I i I I I i Ii I I I i i i 280 I i i i I i I i I i iI i i i i I i , ie I i I I I i I i i G MEAT FROM UNDER TIlE IHEAD OF THIE IHUNTER. I ELKHORN STATION. senses had enabled him to discover the presence of fresh meat in that locality. "You may be sure,' says Anderson, "that I kept very quiet while the bear helped himself to some of my buffalo meat and went a little way off to eat it. But," said he," one of the men raised up and back came the bear. Down went our heads under the blankets, and I kept mine covered pretty snug while the beast took another walk over the bed, but finally went off again to some little distance. Mitchell then wanted to shoot, but I said, no! noI hold on or the brute will kill us sure! When the bear heard our voices, back he run again and jumped on the bed as before. I'd have been happy to have felt myself sinking ten feet tinder ground while that bear promenaded over and around us I However, he couldn't quite make out our style. and finally took fright and ran off down the mountain. Wanting to be revenged for his impudence, I went after him, and seeing a good chance,. shot him dead. Then I took my turn of running over him awhile." Anderson was with the American Fur Company another winter, when they went into winter camp on the Snake River, (now in Idaho,) which was one of the coldest he had ever experienced in the mountains. Fuel was difficutlt to obtain, and a supply of [neat still more so. The buffalo had been driven in -1 i i i i I I! 281 11 1 II i i i i i ii I . II ~282 ~ BEYOND THE WEST. the fall east of the mountains, and other game was scarce. Often a party of hunters would be out for dlays without finding any more meat than they needed for their own subsistence. The trappers are all hunters when in winter ren dezvous. On one of these hunting expeditions that winter, the party consisted of Anderson and three more hunters. They had been out more than a week without killing anything of consequence, and had ascended a mountain over frozen snow, hoping to find some mountain sheep. As they clambered along under a ledge of rocks, they came to a place where there were impressions on the snow of grizzly bear feet. On looking round they discovered an opening in the rocks, revealing a cavern, into which the tracks lead. (This, no doubt, was Candlemas Day.) The bear had come out of its winter home, made a short circle and returned. The hunters hes- itated, knowing it was doubtful as to how it could be secured. After a short consultation one proposed to go on the rock above and shoot him, if any one would go in the cavern and drive it out. " I'm your man," said Anderson. "And I, too!" said another, while the third one declared himself as brave as the others and prepared to follow. On entering the cave, whlich was sixteen or twenty a,_ __ _ L ELKHORN STATION. feet square, and high enough to stand erect in, inste'd of one, three bears were visible. They were standing, the largest one in the middle, with their eyes staring at the entrance, but quietly greeting the hunters only with a low growl. Finding that there was a bear apiece tn be disposed Qf, the hunters kept close to the wall and out of the stream) of light from the entrance, while they advanced a little way cautiously towards their game, wvhich, however, seemed to take no notice of them. otter manceuvering a few minutes to get nearer, Anderson finally struck the large bear on the head with his wiping-stick, when it immediately moved off and ran out of the cave. As it came out the man on the ledge shot, but only wounded it, and it came rushing back, snorting and running around in a circle, till the well directed shots from all three killed it on the spot. Two more oears now remained to be disposed of. The successful shot put them in high spirits, and they began to hallo and laugh, striking the next largest bear; he also ran out. and was soon shot by the man outside. By this time their guns were reloaded, the men growing more elated, and Claymore declaring they were "all Daniels in the lion's den, and no mistake." This and similar expressions he constantly vocifer(ted awhile they drove out the thlird ard smaller bear. As it I I I 283 I Thi BEYOND THE WEST. reached the cave's mouth three simultaneous shots put an end to the last one, when Anderson's excitement knew no bounds. "Daniel was a humbug," said he. "Daniel in the lions' den Of course it wvas winter, and the lions were sucking their paws! Tell me no more of Daniel's exploits. We are as good Dan'els as he ever dared to be. Hurrah for these Daniels!" With these expressions, and plaIying many antics by way of rejoicing, the delighted Anderson finally danced himself out of the "lion's den," and set to work with the others to prepare for a return to camp. Sleds were soon constructed out of the branches of the mountain willow, and on these light vehicles the fortunate find of bear meat was soon conveyed to the hungry camp below. After this somewhat remarkable exploit our now established hunter, in language more strong than elegant, remarked that the Scripture Daniel was a very small affair as compared to himself and associ ates. When the camp broke up in the spring they came down on Green River, trapping and hunting, and worked their way down through Utah to the Colorado River in tho fall, where they remained during the trapping season, and then passed down i I .i iI I I I ii i i ELKHORN STATION. 2 8 through Arizona to New Mexico and wintered on the Gil,,t.d the'Rio Grande R,ivers. In the spring they started north to trap on the head waters of the many streams in South and Middle Parks, Colorado. While the camp was on its way, Kit Carson, Ande.son and Mitchel, together with three Inrdian trappers, started on a hunt east of Rio Grande River. When they were about a hundred miles from camp, crossing an open country, a plain, they discovered a large band of Indians mounted, and coming towards them. They were in the Camanche country, and knew full well what to expect if taken prisoners. They took a hasty observation 6f their foes, and full two hundred Camanches, with their warriors in front, mounted on fleet horses, armed with spears and battle-axes,going like the wind over the prairie. their feather head-dresses flying back in the breeze, could be clearly seen in that clear air, imparting a thrill of fear mingled with admiration. The first moment, the look; the second, to devise some way, of escape. To run was useless; their swift steeds would soon overtake them, and then there would be no hope. No protection was at hand; no woods or ravine as in the'mountains. Carson exchanged a few words and said: "We must kill our mules!" There is a chance for life until the breath is out of the body, is the rule of true mountain imeii like these. I i I i I i III II i I II t i I i I I i I i' I BEYOND THE WEST. To the ground they sprang, placing the seven of them, in a circle, cut their throa in an instant with their keen hunting k held them in their places till each animal Then hastily throwing up what dirt they c their hands and knives, they made themsel -a hole for each man to stand in, with a ( for a breastwork. Soon the Camanehes and made a dash on i hem, the great med in advance, gesticulating and making a noise with a little rattle which he shook The whooping and brandishing of weapon dash of the charge, was at least somewhat it But the little garrison in its mule for usually mulish and did not waver; but th che horses did. They could not be made upon th- bloody carcasses of the mules, enough for them to throw a spear into th tion. This was just what the trappers had re They were determined, yet much excited remarkably exposed situation. It was arre but three should fire at a time, the other serving their fire till the empty guns reloaded. Each one was to select his man every shot. This they did. Their horses be urged upon the slaughtered mules. nor I. eal a fortifica lied upon. d by their anged that three re could be and kill at s could not 1i The three! _.. I I I i i I I i.i i ir i I I' i i i i II I 286 i i iI i iI i i i i i i i I I i i i i I i i i II i ii i i i i i i i 1 i ELKHORN STATION. 28' whites fired first, and the medicine man and two other Camanches fell. When a medicine man is killed the others retire, hold a council, and appoint another, for without I their' medicine" they could not expect success in battle. The warriors retired, while their women came up and carried off the dead. After devoting a little time to bewailing the departed, another chief was appointed to the head place, and another furio,us charge was made with the same results as before. Three more warriors bit the dust, while the spears of their brethren, attached to long hair ropes by which they could be withdrawn, fell short of reaching the men in the fort. Again ai,d again the Camnanches made a fruitless chargelosing, as often as they repeated it, three warriors, eilher dead or wounded. Three successive times that day, the head chief, or medicine-man, was killed; and when that happened, the heroes in the fort got a little time to breathe. While the warriors held a council, the women took care of the wounded and slain. As the women approached the fort to carry off the fallen warriors, they mocked and reviled the little band of trappers, calling themrn' women" for fighting in a fort, and resorting to the usual Irndian ridicule and gasconade. Occasionally, also, a warrior raced at full speed past -~~~~ ~~~Th___ — ~~~~~~~~~~ II i i i i i i I I I I I I i i i i i 1 1I i Ii i I iI I i .1 i I BEYOND THE WEST. the fort, apparently to take observations. Thus the battle continued through the entire day. It was terrible work for the trappers. The burning sun of the plains shone on them, scorching them to faintness. Their faces were begrimmed with powder and dust, their throats parched, and tongues swollen with thirst, and their whole frames aching from their cramped positions, as well as the excitement and fatigue of the battle. But they dared not relax their vigilance for a moment. They were fighting for their lives, and they meant to win. At length the sun set on that bloody and wearisome day. Forty-two Camanches were killed, and several more wounded, for the charge had been repeated fifteen or twenty times. The Indians drew off at nightfall to mourn over their dead and hold a council. By this time they must have realized that their medicines were not etfective, and came to the conclusion that the trapper's medicine possessed wonderful killing properties! When sable night had spread its shadows over the embattled and now memorable mule-fort, the six heroes who had contended successfully against a hundred brave Camanches, took each his blanket and his gun, "thaikful for the bridge that carried them safe over," they gave a hasty good-by to dead mules and packs, and started on their return to camnp. _______ _____ ___________ _______- my jmy i I I I I I I i i I I I i1 i1 i I II Ii; iI I I iI I I II I li 11 iI II i i I i I I 1I 1! II I i 288 ELKHORN STATION. I)During many years of out-door life of toil, watchfulness and peril, the mountain trapper had acquired the habit, like the Indians, that when he had a journey to perform, or was going onl express business, he would take a dog-trot, and travel all day ili that gate. On this occasion, the six escaping from a deadly enemy for life, ran all night, and found no water for seventy miles —when, ultimately, they came to a clear mountain stream, their thankfulness equalled their necessity-" for," says Anderson, "thirst is the greatest suffering I ever experienced. It is far wvorse than hunger or pain." They remained here, rested and renewed their ex hausted energies, and went on without hindrance, until they arrived at camp, in that beautiful spot iil the Rocky Mountains, now called South Par,k;;nd here we leave them, glad to know that, after their remarkable escape with their lives and hardships, the)are safely in this agreeably romantic spot in the mountains. i 289 i I .i I i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i I I I i CHAPTER XXXI. fRE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE CHURCH BUTE-UP AND OVER A WILDERNESS OF MOUNTAIN RANGES UPON THE SUMMIT-DOWN THE PACIFIC SLOPE-RE MARKABLE ROCK FORMATIONS-ECHO CANYON-WEBER VALLEY-MOR MON SETTLEMENTS. I am here; there is no mistake about that, with one of the very best pro.pects of my remaining for some time to come. Day after day, here, close under the high, broad mountains, among the childhills about "Elkhorn Station,"' the battle was renewed, not with Indians, but with mosquitoes. It would seem that they had been whetting their needles on a smooth mountain peak hard by, anticipating our stay. Washington Irving iilfbrmq us that a certain people in early timne, on thle Hu(lson River, all fell to smoking to hide their little settlement from Yankee depredations, and have them pass on without being discovered; in which they were sulccessful, so completely did they envelop the town with the smoke of their large, well-filled pipes. When we enveloped ourselves in a cloud of sm(o e the enemy's forces would fall balk, but as so(on as our smoked forms came ouit to view, mountaiuts that I i 11 i II i I I I I ii I I II I t i i;, i [ 'I., I -7 THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. rival Switzerland and skies of Italian beauty, the battle would be fought over again; perhaps more blood would be shed than before. The enemy's forces camne on, like the Goths and Vandals, from the mountains in numbers which could not be overcornme. when we would retreat in "good order" to the smudge. Remaining here was more troublesome than fighting Indian. — at least in imagination, but a very little less dangerous. Although we were obliged to remain here so long, and no escape, I was reminded of the time when Kansas waus "'bleeding" even unto death, and de manded of all good people a generous liberality. A latrge, good-looking man entered, as one having authority, a negro's barber shop in a certain place known a. Kansas, to be shaved. After the barber had performed after the manner of the craft, the gentleman was about to leave, when he informed the barber that he was the Governor and would pay by the quarter. "You bes Gob'iiter ob Kansas?" "Yes." " Well, I'd rader dese gob'ners would pay by de shieve, becase dey run off so mighty sudden." Somewhat so with "mine host," or rather hostess; she thought we had better pay by the meal, and we had just two dollars less money every time we left i II I I I I 291 I i I i I BEYOND THE WEST. her bread and elk meat feast. These were the only articles that remained with us, like the mosquitoes, to the last. If her husband managed his affairs out doors as profitably, they must now be well set up in business. After remaining here six days, a sufficient number was collected, with part of a company of United States Cavalry, to make an advance into the enemy's country. The army wagons being loaded with supplies for man and beast, with two stages, we packed our baggage hastily, (two blankets and a jack-knife,) and the young army went bravely forward, two days and one night, before passing the brake, without seeing the shadow of an Indian; but their works were manifested in various places in dead men and burnt stations. All the station-keepers and soldiers were massacred that did not escape. The men in two stations defended themselves in their log houses till night and then made their escape. Their boatd *doors were perforated with bullet holes, like a skimmer, by the Indian rifles. The difficulty past, we resume our journey from the Territory of Wyoming far up in the Rocky Mountains. Here are many interesting and quite remarkable earth and rock formations, arranged b\ time and the work of the natural elements into architectural grandeur; some quite beautiful. Churcl i I i I I I I i I I I I i I I 292 i ii I ii I II i I i I i I I i i i i i ;I i ,1 I I i I Ii I i I t i tI tI I i III i i i i F - -____ - ------ _____ —- -- - THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. Bute is an unsliapely mountain of b hundreds of feet high, covered partl posed sandstone, while other portio appearance of a vast cathedral in a badly ruined greatness; solid and c] small and large towers, smooth and st mids, whole and broken; recesses hold figures. Time's pitiless elements h this soft rock a wonderful variety of rious and interesting. None of the accounts of travel see scribe the many remarkable peculi mountains, (neither do I think they and those general characteristics w tainous regions have in common. A the road the tourist is introduced equally strange and remarkable. No tion can picture the piled-up ma wildness that may be seen in trav most desolate and yet most interest our continent; a panorama of grand beauty such as pen and pencil can ne As we pass on up towards the more the nights grow very c,ld, while tie like an Italian summer. While pas of these ranges the cold was severe, look down upon a sunny valley wa I I iI iI I I I I I i I I I I i I i I i 293 i i I I i I i i iI 1 I I I" I i i I i i i 1 i I I i I i i i i I I I - i i i i I i i i i i i I 0 central ranges i e day would be I I sing over,4oi-ne when we could rm with genial - i I i - II i -i I i - I, 294 BEYOND THE WEST. heat, a-iid also look up to the eternal sho's vwhich crowned the neighboring mountain. High, rugged, naked mountains towered up on either side into a region where all, save the voice of the storm, is silent; where all is cold and desolate; where the lliglher slopes of the mountains are covered with the white mantle of perpetual snow, and cover their heads wA.ti th tle clouds. Their naked sides are covered with volcanic rocks, a substance resembling the sl]ig formed in iron furnaces bla ted out by subterraneous fires. At length we attained the most desolaite part of the road. The hills seemed iron and the heavelns brass; all those sources of utility and beauty which, from their beiiig so generally diffused through liberal nature, are generally considered as things, of course were over this region omitted. The mountains on either side of the road presented a scene that lihed bIeen cheered by the beauty of no vegetation since the waters of the deluge had subsided and the dove left the old patriarch's window not to return. As we slowly ascended the dividing range the mountain ranges seemed to lower as we approached the summit, and when upoln the divide, nine ljun-idred feet above sea level, there were no1 ranges above us, but mountain peaks seemned tfo penetrate the clouds on eitlher lialti(l. Lai-ge fiel(ids of snow i i i I I I I i I I i I I i i i I II I i i i i 0 i I I i I II I THE ROAD FIROM CHEYENNE. came nearly to the wagon road, a few steps on either side. A party could take an old fashioned snowballing in July. But of this youthful diversion we wanted but little here bel,w, nor wanted that little long. We made a stop for some time on the very summit, to enjoy the extensive view, and see the melted snow run along the mountain on either side towards the two oceans. Two little rivulets rising within a few rods of each other, starting off towards the rising and the setting sun, begin their long journey inr the eternal snows of the dividing range with which to feed both oceans. Amid the surrounding grand desolation there are elements of unusual interest and beauty. the piled-up magnificence of the wilderness of mountain ranges, with their many sentinel watchl-towers overlooking and defending, with parental solicitude, the smaller and more dependent members of the great family; the cloudless sky, the clear, exhilarating and balmy air,bringing objects far remote near, while a few wild flowers were contending at our feet, under adverse circumstances, for a scanty subsistence. Altogether, the view presents unusual completeness of extent and varied majestic beauty unsurpassed. Many monntain peaks can be seen towering up into a region where all save the voice of the storm is silent; where all is ever cold and desolate; where they wrap (lround( I i I I I I I I I I i I I I i i I i iI I I I BEYOND THE WEST. them the white mantle of perpetual snow and covei their heads with the clouds. Many of these peaks are torn and furrowed to their center, and sonme times cleft asunder from top to bottom. What meditated thoughts come to us as we stand here and view these mountain summits! Century after cen tury upon their naked heads has rested the closed hand of silence, unimpressible both to summer sun. shine and rigid winter's strength. We were fortunate to attain the Pass eariy in the forenoon, (one of those beautifill days in early summer of which this country has so many,) enabling us to fully enjoy the magnificent views-ample compensation for a long stage journey. To those accustomed to the heavy air of the low country, no correct judgment can be formed as to distance. We were permitted here to supply ourselves with late papers and magazines, they being thickly scattered upon the ground-a verification of the old saying, that there is no loss without gain. The stage had been attacked by Indians a short time before, a few miles from here; but they succeeded in gaining the summit, when their horses were exhausted, and they stopped, taking the mnails and baggage, with which they made themselves a fort, and lay down in it. There being five ot them, well armed with rifles, breech-loa(ders, they were able to make a good de i -- I I i I I I I I I i 1I i i I i I i I I i i I i 296 I i ii f I i I i il cha i, THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. fense. The Indians dare not come and take their chances with them, but crawled up the steepest part of the hill. near enough to shoot their arrows up, and have them drop into the little fortification; but they were harmless. The driver, however, was kill ed before gaining the place, and the superintendent of that division was on the seat with him, and at once took the lines, and thus saved the lives of the others. As we pass on down the Pacific slope, the land scape presents a more changeable view. From the higher ranges could be seen mountain slopes of vai — ous hue, doffed with low bushy evergreen shrubs streaked with snown, almost hid in the distance amid fleecy clouds. But at length a few green valleys could be seen, and nature began to put on an increas ed wreath of vegetation, indicating our approach to the great basins and valleys of Utah. Our road has for a few miles objects of interest, goes between two ranges of precipitous hills of soft sandstone formation, and presents some very inter esting and curious shapes, which, when viewed in the distance, are remarkable imitations of magnifi cent works of art in ruins: ,! {.~"I Atho Aods _ie fai._!_r_!eos aright, Soon after the great moon rose over the eastern i 1, I I I I 297 I L BEYOND THE WEST. mountains, we came to the ruins. Here may be seen the old Cathedral and tlhe Palace; there -the new; some streets having on either side once magnificent I)locks of buildings and lofty domnes, sublime in their proportions, grand in the outline of architecture, an ancient city in ruins, with its walls, terraces, castles and magnificent porticos. Occasionally, an old column and a crumbling pedestal may be seen, as though long since abandoned by the owners, and the work let to the destroying hand of time, to be taken down into an unsystematic mass of ruins; also, a remarkable variety of monuments and statuary, of humanity and animals. No place can be found having a greater variety of the kind, or of more magnificence. O ver and through these remarkable imitations of departed greatness, as one is compelled to imagine them, where "Distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountains in its azure hue." It reminds one forcibly of some of the once great cities of the Old World, which are now amongst the rubbish of the past. It was with some difficulty that we could divest our mind that these were not the hard work of human hands, and no one left to tell the passing traveler the story of their former greatness or present ruin. We pass mountain ranges. low divides; cross and go down the beds of departed riv I I II I I I 298 i THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. ers, with rough and smooth walls, sometimes one and two thousand feet high, through Echo Canyon. This deep, narrow opening through the mount;iil is about twenty miles in length, and is in some places arched by overhanging small trees arnd rocks. This canyon has many very striking features like the Cascades of Oregon, which would amply repay the traveler to incommode himself to visit. The many Mormon fortifications, now in a bad state of preservation, on the bluffs and in caverns on the sides of the mountains, remind the traveler of the time when Johnson's army was marching on the Sainted City. The Mormons fortified this deep callyon to give battle to their invaders-a Gibraltar of defense in and of itself. We enter a productive valley, dotted with cultivated fields and greensward, having a clear, beautiful river, where the comforts of civilizatioli were present. The ct)ntrast was unusually agreeable, liaving been so long away from such pleasalnt inJdications of our home life. The country through which we have passed, although grand and majestic to look upon, is almost A barren land, save wild sage and cactus, the naked mountains, dreary ashen hills of earth, immenise wastes, white with alkali, the grounr.d parched and ullied, a country more varied but as barren as the I I I i I I i 299 I i I I ---- I BEYOND THE WEST. deserts of Sahara. Dropping down here from the mountains, we found a Mormon dignitary surrounded with many blessings, (not in disguise.) Some of them were living and moving, while others were the wealth of a productive soil. We soon had unmistakable evidence of the latter-the first truly "square ineal," without even the edges taken off, for two weeks. His youngest, black-eyed and black-haired wife, done the honors of the table, equally well as we done honor to her bountiful repast. The driver informed us that his churchship was very destitute just then; some of his former helpmeets had left him, and he could then boast of but three. From his cheerfulness, I thought he classed them among such blessings as brighten when they leave. A Mormon farming community has settled along the valley, giving evidences of an humble prosperity on their farms, while their little one-story adobe houses show unmistakable evidences of that kind which the good elderly lady had, who it is said once lived in a Shoe! Beyond is a larger house; a richer man lives there; three doors to his residence. He is favored with three wives only; where the man can afford it, each wife has her separate apartment. Still further on, is one still more wealthy; he has a large story-and-a-half adobe house, where he lives i i i II i II I I i I I i 300 ii i I i i i Ii i i i iI i I I i i I I I PHE ROAD' FPROM CHEYENN.E. with but one of his wives —two small one-story square adobe houses on either side of him-a wife and family in each. He has only five wives. Through the country, one can generally tell if these lords of the plough have more than one wnife, by such indications. These men must be Saints, or they could never control so many wives, when we often find it difficult, and sometimes even dangerous to control even one. The afternoon ride in the valley is remarkably interesting. At evening, we cross a very high range into another valley and canyon, when in the early morning we ascend another long hill and stop, get out and survey the country before us. In the very bosom of the mountains, at our feet is ati extensive and beautiful valley, one of the most picturesque in the mountains. The gently flowing, sparkling waters of the modern Jordan, making towards the great lake, are before us, more precious than all the waters of old Demascus to these people. Many other flashing streams are coming from their hiding places far away in the mountains, to contribute their wealth of beauty and fertility to the valley. As far as the vision can extend, north and soutlr, stretched the green valley, spotted with fields of grain, fruit and gardens, with herds of horses and cattle, and its skimmingt lakes, bounded ultimately by a wall of I I i-i i1 i i i iII i i i i i i I 301 i I ii I i i i i 1 i. i i i 1 1 1 i1 i ; II I i .i i .I i BEYOND TiHt WEST. mountain. The valley is bounded on with lofty mountain slopes, green at the gray, their highest summits white with et combining in one matchless view summ ter, the sunny skies of Italy, and the fr of Switzerland. We look down upon a p ple, and a city equally peculiar, differe ways than one from any other in our wid land. A stranger standing here would, down upon the City of Great Salt Lake, what peculiar people live here. The uu lic erections and cloistered homes of chur ries, would readily excite his curiosity from here offers both a beautiful and view, built by a people in whose history romance of remarkable falnaticism, and t of sufferitJg; while you are indignant ov sumption of religion, you are in admirat tonishment over their industry. On the gentle slope of the mountain, u area of table land before us, is the mount a now large -Ind beautiful city. The four miles in length-run east and west south..They are each eight rods wide, fectly straight each way. On either si street runs a stream of the purest mou and rows and double rows of a variety of I I I I i I i 1i i I II i i,I i i i i i 11 1 i i I .i i i i i ii I I I i i i i iO2 iI ii i I II ii i i I I I I i i i i I i. , north and and are per- I de of every Ii ntain water, i, Ii ,,Iiade trees' II II i THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. are growing luxuriantly along every water-course. To stand here and look down upon the mans sparkling rivulets running in all directions along the streets, it would seem some of them were runing up hill; but nevertheless they are hastily glid ing through every street in the town. The cityis laid out so as to have just ten acres in each square, and these are subdivided into eight squares, so as to give one and one quarter acre to each house. These little home lots are all made into gardens, full of trees bearing a large variety of fruits, such as apples, pears, peaches, two and three varieties of plums, apricots and cherries, and under the heavy growth of trees are planted all the common var.eties of vegetables growing in perfection under their shade Should the garden plot be in the urban part of the city, just over the fence from the enclosure is nothing but parched, barren sand and tilec ever present sage, and his own now beautiful and truitful grounds were the same four years before. Every garden is watered as required by a small stream turned from the street on the higher part of the lot. Thie abundant and constant supply of water makes a very heavy vegetable growth. Among this dense shrubbery is the environed lwelling house, made of adobe brick, i. e., clay unburnt. The bricks are four times larger than our F" i i I i I ii iI i i i i iI i t I i i l i i I i I . ii I i i:i I I I .1 i i i i i i i I I I I i i i i i L BEYOND)'IHE WEST. common brick, and are of gray color. The houses are mostly one story high and present a comfortable appearance. In one of these ten acr.e squares rises up a remarkable building, oval in shape, and covered with ote glittering metalic dome two hundred and seventy-one feet long, one hundred and seventy feet wide and seventy feet high. This entire area has not a single inner support; is one unbroken space. This immense building is the new Tabernacle-the church. This lot is enclosed by a heavy'wall of masonry, and is entered on two sides through heavy double gates, and has but two erections. The other building in the enclosure is the unfinished Temple. We also look down upon another walled-in ten acre lot on the opposite side of the street, where the autocrat, not of all the Russias, but of all the chosen "Latterday Saints," resides with his numerous family of both great and small. Here is the Lion House, so named from having that animal in bronze over the entrance; also the Beehive House, (the Mormon emblem of industry.) These are rather blocks of buildings. In this enclosure, are all the Church Tithes buildings and the school house of Brigham Young, no children are permitted to attend it but his own. Here Brigham Young's ambition "climbs his little ladder," and Mormon genius "plumes his half-fledged wings." i I I I i I i I I I I I I I i j ii i 3()4 i i I ,ii i II I I i i i . i ii I I i i i i i i i i i i i I i I I i I i i I I i i i i i ii 1 i I i I THE ROAP FROM CHEYENNE. The school register bore the names of fifty odd pupils, all his own sons and daughters; but there were not ever thirty present, all looking as healthy,. bright and intelligent as any other school I ever visited. Children seem indigenous here; they are in the houses and on the streets, and you wonder, till you recollect that they are the only growth of the soil-without irrigation. Along the business streets these acre and a quarter squares are still divided, and the streets present rows of compact buildings like any other city. We have given but a fewof the most prominent features of this center of Mormonism a city and a people unlike any other in some regards in the world. The city has a population of about twenty thousand, Mormons and'"Gentiles," as they call everybody who are not of their faith. As we stand overlooking the city and the extended sweep of country, under the yellow skies, in the soft, hazy atmosphere covering everything in "robes of azure hue," we can't but feel that we are in a goodly heritage, a visioned land, as the Saints claim it to be. It truly is; after coming from dreary, barren mountains and naked deserts, from unusual natural poverty so long, we stand here on the eastern range, high above the valley, and view tte most beautiful spot on which the sun ever shone. Thus t i i i 305 i i i i I i I i I I I iI I i I i i I i II BEYOND THE WEST. BEYOND T-lE WEST. i 306. BEYOND THE WEST. 11 it seemed to us. We ask ourself, can this be the desert which only a few years ago was a twin sister to that just described, full of alkali, salt, sand and wild sage-all poverty. We are ready to ask, what master mind established, laid out this city of the desert, and made it the mountain Eden what it ie at this time. But as we look away over the country we learn that this is only one among many evidences of the workings of a shrewd master mind. We discover one hundred and thirty cities and villages planted among the mountain valleys, four hundred miles to tLe southward and two hundred in the opposite way, and in all about one hundred thousand people. The estimated amount of expenditure for canals, aqueducts and small water courses is ten millions, five hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollars. Ninety four thousand acres are cultivated by irrigation. giving to the government, or rather Brigham Young, an annual water rentage of two hundred and seventy thousand dollars. Nothing can be raised in Utah without constant and careful irrigation. With it everything is grown in abundance. The use of water as a fertil izer is'much greater than we ill this land of showers have comprehended. For thousands of years irrigation has made the country along the river Nile :the garden of the world. I 1: I I I I I I I 'k k I i i I i I I I I i I I i I ii t i i IIi Ii i ; i I t i I i I i THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. To supply Salt Lake City with an abundance of water they went back in the snowy mountain ranges a distance of forty miles, dug a canal, with lateral ditches, making in all nearly a thousand miles of water course concentrating in a small river before arriving at the city. But during the time of irrigation, after the parched earth has been supplied, you go below the city and see the little brook which seems to say: "I am what is left of the great mountain stream after the city has drank all that it wants." Wherever a mountain'stream can be found they bring it down in the valley, and is made the means of a settlement. After water is available the rest is easy; build a cayote house, which one man can do in a day, then set up housekeeping and begin farmhing. A cayote house is a small cellar dug in the ground with a few boards placed up over the hole as a roof. The now poor farmer occupies this until his farm ~never to exceed forty acres by their law) enables him to build one of adobe brick. There is through all this country a horizontal rather than a perpendicular agriculture adapted to irrigation. There is no place on our continent where such extensive works of irrigation have been made and in use as those in the Great Salt Lake Basin, by an isolated and an outcast people. Hei'e are at least in all one hundred and twenty thousand I I I I I i I I 307 i I i i i i ii I i I BEYOND THE WEST people, who not only live themselves, but export largely their agricultural produce, which is sustained by irrigation alone. Wherever a watered valley can be found in Utah, (the name of an Indian tribe, meaning those who dwell in the mountains,) and there are many creep ing up among the mountains a long, long way, there you will find the humble, industrious, uncomplaihing Mormon settler, earning a living in the way most congenial to his nature by cultivating the soil. All of them are plain; most of them are extremely so, as might be expected in a very humble people. They bear the impress of poverty, hard work and poor living from their youth up. Yet, as a people, they have no doubt bettered their condition physically, if not mentally, by coming here. Here is a community gathered from almost the uttermost parts of the earth, mostly foreigners, from the lowest, most ignorant strata of society in Eu rope. They are from England, Norway, Sweden, and many from Denmark, and a few of our owes people, cemented together, presenting a very good outward fusion, making them seemingly united, dif fering from all other people in government, domestic life and religion. These industrious and economical conglomerated people have taken from the most fortidding frowns of forbidding nature a country I I I i i i I 308 i i I i i i i i I I i i tI i II i i I THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. -nd converted it into fruitful fields, filling homes with plenty and gladness. The summer here is about eight months long, and dry; the winters are mild and open; the fall of snow is light in the valleys and heavy on the mountains. This, like all the mountain country, is one of the healthiest that can be found. In such an atmosphere lung and throat diseases have no chance. Sad experience has shown the folly of sending consumptives to the tropics. The invigorating air of high, dry regions, away from salt water, has proven to be the most healthful. Salt Lake City is on the commercial line across the continent, and holds a future in it. The invalid and the pleasure seeker can now pack their trunks, step aboard the cars, and in a few days arrive for a season at this mountain Saratoga, with pleasure, and if in pursuit of health, with profit. The hot Mineral Springs here have much curative virtue. The bathing is delicious, invigorating, cleansing and softening the skin to the texture of a child, and is said to be a sure cure for rheumatic cripples, and a restorative for scrofula and consumptive diseases. You see here several of these hot springs boiling up like a heated reservoir; one spouting up a column of boiling water as large round as a man's body: some moderately warm and less active, while others ~_-___ __~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ t I I I I I I I I I I I I I I - I I I I i i 309 I i i I I I i i ii i I i i i i i I II L L 310 BEYOND THE WEST. are cool. but all of the same chemical composition. An analysis of the water gives the following re sult:-Carbonate of lime, per oxide of iron, lime, chlorine, soda, magnesia and sulphulric acid It is slightly charged with hydro-sulphuric acid gas and with carbonic acid gas, and is a mineral water having valuable properties belonging to Saline Sulphur Springs; usual temperature 10()2~ Fah.; sulplihur pro dominating, like the spring at Sharon and Richfield, but less odorous. The sulphurous smell and great clouds of steam and mist rising, w'th a back-grounrd of purple mountains, would have been declared by the ancients as the very largest mouth of Tartaruis. Salt Lake valley has its own svstemi of rivers and lakes, different in some respects from any other. "The entire great Utah Basin is divided by smaill ranges of mountains about two thousand feet high, formring,, valleys from ten to fifteen miles across. They slope imperceptibly toward the centre, where a water course runs to some adjacent valley, or into some marshy place. One well known portion of this region is the noted Death Valley, s- called firom the fact, that in 185(-), a large train of emigrants en route to California, became discontented with their Mormon guide, and a portion of them decided to pilot for themselves. After traveling three days they reached the val I I, I I I i I I I i some marsbv place. One well known portion of this region is the noted Dt —ath Valley, s-) called fi-om the fact, that in 185(-), a large train of emigrants en route to California, became discontented with their Mormon guide, and a portior. of them decided to pilot for themselves. After travelin- three days they reacfied the val i 1~~ I I 'DKIO0 IKIIDHf THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. ley, which is some fifty miles long by thirty in breadth, lower than the sea level, and entirely destitute of water, encircled by mountains, up whose steep sides it is impossible to ascend except at two points. It is devoid of vegetation, and the shadow of a bird or wild beast never darkens its white, glaring sand. Tlhe little band of emigrants, comprising twenty families, were deceived by a treacherous mirage that promised water; but on reaching the centre of this vale of desolation, their eyes rested only on the glaring sands bounded by the scorched peaks. Around the valley they wandered. One by one the men died, and the panting flocks stretched themselves in death'under the burning sun. Can any one question the appropriateness of the name ever since applied to it-the Valley of Death? In marked contrast to thi s dreaded region, is the beautiful Valley of the Virgin, nestling in the Black Ridge range at the southern ridge of the Great Basin of Utah. The encircling mountains rise to an elevation of twelve hundred feet, with numerous peaks passing above the limit of perpetual snow. From their summit Lou look down upon a vast extent of country, with its hillsides and valleys, plains and glens; while the Virgin River is seen rounding its course along the foot of the range many miles I, i I i i I i I i I i I t i I I I I 311 i I i i I i i II I iI i i I i III I I I BEYOND THE WEST. now overflowing a valley, here gliding beneath overhanging cliffs, leaping from rock to rock, and then in grand cascades rolling off granite ledges in sheets of feathery foam, on its way to joiln the Colorado. In the dim vista appear rugged peaks rising tumultuously heavenward, tinted by the sunshine that streams through the mighty ravines and hollows, fillingg them with lines of silvery light and purple shade. A large portion of the Black Ridge range consists of bare rock, but there are districts covered with soil and a good growth of pine trees. There are several passes in the range; the best, called the Harmony, leading to St. George, the chief town of Southern Utah. The climate is so mild and genial, that the fig, olive, grape and cotton thrive. The hottest season is from the middle of June to July, when the thermometer ranges from 95 to 120 degrees at noon. Frost lasts from November to March; but snow is rare, and ice never exceeds a thin film. Beyond the enchanting valley are the remarkable mud volcanoes, located below the sea level in the Colorado desert; and if the waters of the ocean could break the intervening mountain barriers, they would be lost to sight. They are situated in a most desolate country, covering a space of a quarte' of a mile long and an eighth wide. This area is one mass of soft mud, through which steam and water are con I i i I I I 'I I I I t I I i II I' I 312 i I i I I I I I I I i I' i l THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. atantly escaping, making a noise that can be heard ten miles; and rising vapor forms clouds that are visible at a greater distance. In some places the steam rises steadily with a hissing, roaring, sputtering noise; in other spots it bursts out with an explosion, throwing the mud a hundred feet into the air. There are places where the mud rises in huge bubbles, and bursts as if boiling with intense heat; while in other portions regular cones, varying in shape from sharp points to little mounds, have been formed. There are boiling springs which eject their water fifty feet high; others are merely large basins several hundred feet across, in which a lead-colored paste is continually boiling. Their margins are encircled by incrustations and arborescent concretiouls of lime and deposits of sulphur. They are well worth a visit, though an excursion to them is attended by serious hardships. Among other objects of note are the Summit Soda Springs, situated seven miles soutth of the line of the Central Pacific Railroad in Summit Valley, between Lake Tahoe and Donner Lake. With the exception of the Yosemite, there is not in all the Sierra Nevada a spot of wilder magnificence or beauty. The road that leads to them runs through a continuli S4lCCeSsio n iof nitlir-l beauties of forests, glades, strtanamlets and m(,untains i i I iI I I I I i I i I 313 i iI I F- — ______ ______ BEYOND THE WEST. The springs are near the head waters of the American River, one of the most beautiful of mountain streams, that forms a series of cascades near the source. The lofty peaks of the Sierra loom up in all directions, divided by precipitous canyons, which shelter dense forests of lofty evergreens. The miiineral water is most agreeable and apetizit)g, possessing great medicinal virtues in the cure of affections of the digestive organs. The springs can be reached without fatigue by invalids; and the rough log cabin, now the only house, will be replaced this season by a neat hotel, erected by the railroad company. The marvelous beauties of this wild region will make it the funure Saratoga of the Pacific." The little mountain ocean-" Salt Lake"-is what the Indians call Medicine, or Mystery, has elements peculiar to itself. It is sixty miles long, by from twenty to thirty wide-has no outlet; but two large rivers, the Jordan and Bear, flowing into it, together with many other large mountain streams, which, during the rainy season, causes the lake to rise several feet, but the power of evaporation and' absorption soon establishes an equilibrium between the loss and supply of waters in this country. This is the highest large body of salt water in the world, is very transparent, excessively salt, and forms one of the most concentrated brines known. No animal or vegeta w I I I I F II I I II I i II I I I .I I I I 314 i I I I i I THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. ble life can be found in it. Everything in the water is incrusted with salt-the want of vegetable matter for food must necessarily exclude all kinds of animated life. Everything about the lake is largely covered with salt. It is crystalized from the spray of the waters, and is found abundantly on its shores, on twigs and shrubs. The shores in the summer season, where shallow, are incrusted in pure salt suitable for table use, and shallow arms of the lake present beds of clean salt for miles. Some places have large, deep beds of salt, where it can be taken up by the wagon load for use. The water is so buoyant, that if a person assumes a sitting position, he will not sink below the shoulders. Swimming in it is difficult, on account of keeping the lighter parts of the body in the water. I never left a place more reluctantly-could have spent days of investigation upon the fascinating, transparent water of this remarkable lake, with both profit and pleasure. There is one other body of water in the world like this-the climate and country somewhat similar. Go with me to Bible land, where was once the renowned cities of Sodom and Gomorah, hid forever from human vision-the monuments of that dreadful anger which the crimes of the guilty had provoked! The beautiful and productive valley, with all its I I I .1 i i I I i i i I I i . I 315 i I BEYOND THE WEST. busy life, of pride, wealth and arrogance, defying the Almighty power, went down; the river Jordon flowed in to stay. The Dead Sea was made 1.300 feet below the Mediterranean-the lowest body of salt water in the world. An eminent traveler says: "He lay like a cork upon its surface." The mystery has been solved. The specific gravity of water being 1,000, this is 1,211, a degree of density unknown in any other but Salt Lake. As the people here are the Saints, in these latter days, they will not be the subjects of Almighty punishment, like the last named. Brigham Young is a great man, I answer, when asked about him. No one can doubt this, who is acquainted with Utah as it now is, and recollect what it was when first settled by him. He is a man of much shrewdness-far-seeing; has thought much and mingled much; observed closely the various workings.of practical life, and is a man of the highest executive ability-would have succeeded in any branch of a business life he might have undertaken. Personally, hlie treated me with liberality and kindness, as the Mormons do all those who visit among them, and do not make themselves obnoxious by undue interference with them. In a rambling conversation with Brigham Young, I referred to Joseph Smith, as not having an unspotted reputation when It I i I I i I I i 316 i i I I I II i .I i i i i i 1 1 i I i I SUNDAY IN SALT LAKE CITY. hle lived in my State —not a good citizen. " The Gen tiles," he said, "know nothing as to our religion; they vilify my people; that to notice them, would be too great a sacrifice for a man to make. I never embrace any man in my religion; but, Brother Smith, (they always address each other as brother and sister-) established a religion that will save us, if we embrace it." Nothing but a strong religious conviction (be that right or wrong) could harmonize such opposite, con flicting human elements, and subvert the plainest principles of our common nature. SUNDAY IN SALT LAKE CITY. ,R. EDITOR:-I am reminded of the promise made you in my last letter, to give a Sunday in this place with the self-styled Latter Day Saints. Sunday is a day here where business places are closed. They are a peculiar people-zealous in good work for the only Church, in their inflated imaginations-that in,, to keep unspotted from the world a peculiarly favored few of the human family. The day is observe(] and respected, as far as a stranger can see about the city with decorum, amongst all the inhabitants thereof. All seem to put themselves on Sabbath day behavior, at least on the streets. The chosen people of God axe coming From the East and the Wesft, the North and the South-from i I I I t i I I i I 317 t i I i i i I I i i i i i i iI i i i i I i i I i I 1 i I I i i i i iI I i 1 i i i I i i I I . i I i i i i;ii it ~ BEYOND THE WEST. the uttermost parts of the city, and some from the adjoining country-to the Tabernacle. Brigham Young will preach at two o'clock. As there are no church-going bells in this Mormon consecrated land, I availed myself of the advice Mr. Beecher gave to strangers desirous of findiPg his church, "to follow the crowd." Service is in the old Tabernacle, which will accommodate about two thousand persons. I went early and got a seat; but soon the house became crowded, the entrances filled, and many outside that could not gain admittance. These are truly a church-going people, whose God is Brigham Young, and the Sainted Joseph Smith their Bible-the only truly blessed on earth, and to be blessed in Heaven. The audience are sorted-all the women occupy the two rows of seats through the centre, and the men on either side. The choir are at one end of the house with the organ; while at the other there is erected a gallery capable of seating one hundred aind fifty or more of the great men, with a small modest looking pulpit in the centre. There the Bishops, the Twelves and Seventys, and all the inspired Prophets and Apostles discourse wise counsel, look demurely, and pronounce heavenly blessings upon their dev,)ted, bigoted, deluded, ignorant followers. The choir sing a hymn, then preaching begins, and the sacrament is administered at the same time. ,' l. i I. I i i ii 318 i I I i I I I I I i i i i I i i I 1 11 i i i t i I i i I I I i - I I SUNDAY IN SALT LAKE CITY. Real work now goes on, the hardest of which is the preaching. Several loaves of bread are cut in slices and piled upon large platters, on a table in front of the pulpit, where it is broken in small pieces by a few men, and put in baskets. Several men take and pass them through the audience as seated. After all are served, a number of large pitchers are filled with water and refilled until all are supplied, when the sacramental service is finished. This is repeated every Sabbath in a wholesale way, to give the sacrament to between two and three thousand persons during the time of preaching. They are open-communion; everybody can partake if lihe wishes. The preaching is more after the order of a political convention in the States than Church worship. No text is taken, but any one of the priesthood gets up and says what he pleases-speaks his own thoughts in his own language, in his own way; perhaps several will talk during one meeting. Their sermons, (if I may call them by that name,) are of a business character; indeed, they use the day for business instruction and direction of the coming week, the every day matters of life, what they must do, and what they must not do, to make themselves united, prosperous and strong; to combat and resist the wickedness of the gentile world. Brigham deprecated severely the dissenters from the Church; ~ _ _ __ i e. II - t tI i. I i i I II i i :-" I) I ii i i i I iI i I ii I i i I I II i' i iI i i I II f i I I Ii i' I i' Iii i I I i I I I i I.I I I i i" i; I i i I , iiiI i BEYOND IHE WEST, called them some names that would iiot look well or paper; instructed his people not to trade with or give their money to any but their own brotherhood, even if they were obliged to pay much more. If they did, he said, they should not go to Heaven, as the Sainted Priesthood would be there to testify against them; that the Almighty had directed, guided and prospered them in the midst of these naked, unproductive mountains, in the valleys of which the great God was gathering to himself a few of the faithful from all the different families of man, through whom he would save and bless ultimately a few of all the different races of the human family. The others would all be lost at the judgment day, as Joseph Smith and he (Brigham) and Jesus Ghrist would be there to judge a sinful world. 1 looked over the assembled multitude with the intention of doing them justice, and truth compels me to say that it is very seldom so many nationalities can be brought together, where the animal more largely predominated, and less of the intellectual. Some of the language that went out over the sacred altar did not conform to any religious or grammatical standard of the English language with which your humble correspondent is acquainted. They are a heterogeneous community, mostly of the working class from the old countries, bigoted, and con trolled by a few more intelligent leaders. I i i i I I I I I. 32t) I II i i i ii i i i i i I i I I i i I i i I I I I i i i i I i II I i I i i I SUNDAY IN SALT LAIKE CITY. Brigham Young rules all things in Hleaven above anal in the Earth beneath as to Mormondom; all things are measured and controlled by his Church standard. There was no other Church in Utah until within a few weeks. Rev. Mr. Foot, an Episcopal clergyman from New York, came here and estab lished the Church with good promise of success. Mr. Foot is a young man of commanding ability, well calculated to plant the Church and make it successful, even among these bigoted people. But there are a few good church people here, and many others who are not in communion with the Saints, who give this Church their presence and support, and will give it permanent prosperity. The Mormon Church is now receiving a large revenue annually, as one-tenth of all that the ground produces; of all that every man or woman raises by labor, by trade, by mechanics, or in any other way; not one-tenth of the net income, but one-tenth part of whatever human industry and skill produces is used for that purpose. The church property is located in a ten acre lot, enclosed with a wall laid up in solid masonry twelve feet high, with large, double gates as entrances. The new Tabernacle is now nearly completed; is one of the largest and finest erections in this country; is capable of accommodating ten thousand people; covers the most groI)d] I 321 i I i i i i i II -i i i i i I I I BEYOND THE WEST. without inside supports of any other building. A large number of cut stone columns are, first built about twenty-five feet apart, the space between to be filled with large folding doors, to open in summer and close inll winter. The superstructure is one of the most perfect specimens of architecture that can be found anywhere; its amplitude and beauty demands admiration. The largest organ in the world, as they say, is now being built for their use here. The foundation to their Temple is finished, and if completed according to the beginning and plan, will be a magnificent erection. The hard earnings of a poor, ignorant and bigoted community are here piled up, layer upon layer, stone upon stone heavenward, worthy of a better expenditure, to gratify the aspiration and perpetuate the ignominious name and fame of a great selfstyled patriarch and potentate. We envy not the man who has no better monu ment to go down to posterity (in these times) than to build Egyptian Pyramids out of the hard earnings of the poor working man, like some of the kings of the old world, who supposed they had a divine right to pile up, if they chose, all the rest of mankind to make themselves a road to get into heaven. Salt Lake City, July 5, 1867. G. W. P. It would seem that something good can come even out of Nazareth. The following effusion was Ii I I i I I I I i I t-i 1, %:&2 tI f I tI t i II i i 1, i i I I 41 fI 11. 1, ilI i i MORMON TABERNACLE AND ENDOWMENT HOUSE. v ,4..... D I~t g. I MORMON SETTLEMENTS. written by a Salt Lake City poetess, on the receipt of the telegraph news of the assassination of President Lincoln Every home and hall was shrouded, Every thoroughfare was still, Every brow was darkly clouded, Every heart was faint and chill. O! the inky drop of poison In our bitter draught of grief! 0! the sorrow of a nation Mourning for its murdered chief. Strongest arms were closely folded, Most impassioned lips at rest; Scarcely s,eemtd a heaving motion In the nation's wounded breast. Tears were frozen in their sources, Blushes burned themselves away, Language bled through broken heart threads, Lips had nothing else to say. Yet there was a marble sorrow In each still face, chiselled deep, Something more than words could utter, Something more than tears could weep. O! the land he loved will miss him, Miss him in its hour of need! Mourns the nation for the nati,n, Till its tear-drops inward bleed. The government of the Mormons bears a resemblance to that of Turkey. Mahomet, the founder of Mahometan religion, was subject to epileptic fits which furnished him with convenient opportunities for communications with the "Spirit Land," in which he received new chapters to be added to the Koran i I I I i I I I I I 40 BEYOND THE WEST. justifying him in what he wished to undertake. We might with propriety substitute Brigham Young's name here for Mahomet's, as he professes to receive from a divine source an authorization to do whatever his false professorship may desire, and thus proselyte a poor, ignorant multitude of followers. While speaking of these eratic people we are reminded of the domestic relaqions of Turkey, the government of which is an absolute monarchy. S(-) also is the Mormon Church rule, Or Brigham Young's government, which is taken from their Koran, and is altogether oriental. The supreme government of "Latter Day Saints" seems to consist of a President and Prophet united, who is Brigham Young, a revelator and the vicegerent of heaven. He has three chief counselors associated with him, then twelve apostles, then bishops enough to have one in each town and village. The bishop is judge, jury, ruler, alcalde, teacher, preacher, magistrate, and perhaps store-keeper, manufacturer, farmer, or hotel-keeper of the village. Then there are several subordinate officers under the control of the bishop, omnis homo. Young makes all the appointments, and manages generally to get the right man in the right place for him. Iii Tuirkey the Sultan is supreme, uniting in hss I i I I I i I i -4 321 I MORMON SETTLEMENTS. person the highest spiritual dignity with the supreme secular authority. He makes the laws, but is not in any way subject to them. The Sultan is not a crowned monarch, but girds on the sword of Osman, and is sworn to defend the religion of Ma. homrnet. Brigham Young also took up the Mormon's slaughtered prophet's sword, where it was stricken from his hand, and is (at least in his own estimation) appointed of Heaven, and sworn by his followers to maintain and perpetuate the religion of their more modern Mahomet. The Koran of Turkey properly gives the Sultan but four wives, but the Sultan gives it a liberal construction, and takes as many as his fancy dictates. Brigham Young gives his Koran a very liberal construction, and also takes as many wives as his fancy dictates. The lives of the women of an imperial harem is monotonous, one unvarying round of dressing, walking in the pleasure grounds and attending dances, where "music arose with its volup. tuous swell," being wholly prohibited from mingling with the world outside of their prison house. Not so with Brigham Young's wives; they are self-sup. porting as far as it is possible for them to be. He is a great utilitarian; all his family must be industrious and economical. His wives each have separate i I i I i i I 32 -) .I I I I I I I i i i BEYOND THE WEST. apartments, take care of their own household, and are, to a large extent; separate families. Here, as in Turkey, the grandees, the great officers of Church and State, and all whose wealth will admit of it, have their seraglios. Here a marriage ceremony is performed each time a man takes a wife; but nmarriage, as uinderstood by a Christianized people, has no place in Turkey. Mr. Young's family does not n',mber more than a few hundred, while that of the reigning Sultan amounts to as many thousands. By the religion of Mahomet and Young, women are not considered as having souls of the same grade as men, and are admitted into His paradise on high only as men take them along. We have thus briefly run a few parallels between these two systems, not for the purpose of favoring either, but because they are in many ways so much alike, and leave the good Christian reader to make his own conclusions as to the unnatural, unholy practices of these people-forbidden of God and common humanity. Such a domestic life is like an island with a stream of cold water flowing all around it-not a part of the mnain land, fragrant with the holy associationjs of one father and one faithful mother. If thou hast crushed a flower, The root may not be blighted; If thou hast quenched a lamp, I I I I I i I I i I I 326 MORMON SETTLEMENTS. Once more it may be lighted; But on thy heart, or on thy lute, The string which thou hast broken, Shall never in sweet sound again Give to thy touch a token I If thou hast loosed a bird, Whose voice of song could cheer thee, Still, still he may be won From the skies to warble near thee; But if up on th e troubl ed s ea Thou hast thrown a gem unheede d, Hope not that the wind or wave shall bring The treasure back when needed! If thou hast bruised a vine, The summer's breath is healing, And its cluster yet may glow Through the leaves their bloom revealing; But if thou hast a cup o'erthrown With a bright draught filled-oh! never Shall the earth give back that lavished wealth To cool thy'parched lip's fever! The heart is like that cup, If thou waste the love it bore thee, And like that jewel gone, Which the deep will not restore thee; And like that string of harp or lute Whence the sweet sound is scatteredGently, oh I gently touch the chords, So soon forever shattered!" We are ready to acknowledge that it is difficult to give our impressions of these-the Latter Day Saints-with feelings evenly balanced. We had out prejudices before going among them, and with difficulty could they be wholly overcome; yet we tried i II II t i I I I II I I I I III I iI I i I II i ir iI i, i i i 327 I i Ii i I BEYOND THE WEST. to get right impressions-to see and know them as they are ia their own land, and in their own homes, as individuals, as families, and as a great people; the government of which is a despotism, the most perfect union of Church and State in the world-inflexible in its exactions, omnipresent in its watchfulness, foresighted in its plans and unscrupulous in getting means to attain its ends. One rece'ves the impression that Brigham Young is general proprietor-owns everything, the real estate, the industry, machinery, animals, and all the Mormons. Indirectly he does, because he has no superior power on earth-is a prophet. inspired of Heaven; can do no wrong; is too superhuman to be questioned; being President and Governor, gives him the power of handling the property as best suits his purpose. He is the embodiment of irresponsible power, such as is dangerous and despotic, in any mortal man's hands. Hiis position is such, that if he does not violate numan nature, and take from honest toil and honesty enongh to enrich himself beyond all other men, it is not for lack of opportunity, or authority, or inducement to take it, for he holds in the eyes of his people all the authority that heaven and earth can bestow upon him-he alone is prophet and king! Not a man, among all his subjects, dares to dis 1 1 Ii I I i i I I I i I i 328 i i I i I i i i i , i I I i i i I i I ! i I I I i i I iI i i I I MORMON SETTLEMENTS. d his orders. Notwithstanding this would-be "I am" power, who has enriched himself beany other man in this country, from the hard of an ignorant multitude of followers, yet I r confess that much good has been done, in gaththe poor from various parts of the land; unitern m together; making them earn a better living they ever had before; and as much, if not more c ation than they had before coming here. iwing these people in the light of the high civon which charaterizes our people of the presay, we must regard the Mormon system as insufe licentiousness. This heavy, dark cloud of a light, which they spread over themselves, seems scute, and almost covers up that which, under circumstances, would receive the enthusiastic of all good people, for what they have done ds developing our country under so many adcircumstances. ese people must be under the influence of a ftsm, remarkable for this enlightened age, whien believe that the Prophet Smith, in 1826, found depth of the earth, brass plates that had been for many centuries, by a perpetual miracle in tate of New York, town of Palmyra-that the were so ancient that no one but he, the miracly endowed, could decipher the wonderful lan i I I i i i i i I I i i i 329 i I I I i ii i i I i I i the S plates iiiousl BEYOND THE WEST. guage. Yet, they were found in a rough box, such as is used for common window glass. This was a bigger thing than even the "Cardiff Giant." Smith interpreted the plates, with a stone in his hat, (perhaps it was the Stone Giant, for he was found in that neighborhood 1) while another man wrote down the revelation-which made the Book of Mormon. Nothing but a remarkable fanaticism could entertain such material; every principle of humanity and common sense is outraged by its sacrilegious pretensions. The leading principle of their faith and practice does not seem to have been on the miraculous plates; but Joseph Smith, subsequently, had a revelation authorizing and establishing plurality of wives, as the perfection and crowning work of their religion, while he was at Nauvoo, in 1843. This new and everlasting covenant, he said, was instituted before the foundation of the world, and was given him to establish the fullness of his glory: "And verily, verily, I say unto you, (Smith,) that whatsover you seal on earth, shall be sealed in Heaven! and whatsoever you bind on earth in my name and by my word, saith the Lord, it shall be eternally bound in Heaven; and whosesoever sins you remit on earth shall be remitted eternally in the heavens; and whosesoever sins you retain on earth, shall be retained in Heaven." Such an assunmption of superhuman pow I I I i I I i I 'i i I i II II 830 I MORMON SETTLEMENTS. er can be entertained only by a person filled with feverish fanaticism Plurality of wives, more especially with the officers of the Church, seems to be the ground work of their faith, and they pride themselves on the number they have, and cal) be made to live with them reconciled, and be peaceful, rival wives. They, like the Indians owning horses, seem to feel their superiority, and that they are to be good and holy men: receive honor in proportion to the number they have. We were informed that Young had three daughters, the wives of one man. By no way can you learn how many wives Brigham Young has, if he knows himself; but it is said he does not always know his own children. How a man can support several wives is a matter of li-ttle wonder, when we Gentiles are obliged to work in season and out of season sometimes to give even one a liberal support. But they say their wives are self-supporting-they sew, make gloves and mittens, knit, dry a large variety of fruit, can peaches and other fruits, put up garden seeds, spin and weave, (not street yarn!) but always doing something that will give at least a little return. Then, too, as a community, they do not change their bonnets and dresses-have rich silks, furs, gold watches, with each change of the season, like the ladies of the olter world. They are no doubt hav I I I 331 BEYOND TIIE WEST. ing as comfortable, and perhaps a better living, most of them, than they ever had before they were Mor, mons. They had an humble origin-have had a very humble, degraded life-have no wants beyond those imperatively demanded by nature. While the Government will not, we lope, persecuite a hundred thousand people by making war ul)on their homes, yet they cannot be received into the community of States, as long as such a system prevails among them, for in that event all the leaders would be fit subjects Tor the Penitentiary I Mormonism is a dark spot on our now clear-shining sky of a free civilization-a perversion of the real affections of the human heart-mockery of the family relation-a ludicrous perversion of true religion. The past history of these people shows beyond all question that their peculiar institution cannot be sustained. When surrounded by a high standard of civilization, it must either go down or travel to some uninhabited country. While they were almost hid away from the outer world, in their mountain valley home, life was prosperous with them, and their favorite plurality system grew in proportion to their prosperity, till now it presents a strong front; but how long it can now maintain its present strength is uncertain. They could, while isolated, maintain their unholy L I I i i I 332 i i I i I i i I i i i I I i i I i MORMON SETTLEMENTS. system; but now, when the iron track has climnbed over the mountains, and is fastened at their very doors, it will no doubt let darkness out and light in. The influence of that same civilization from which they fled years ago, is again in their midst-which will, most assuredly, in time bring all enemies under* its feet. As for the threatenings of Brigham Young, that he will oppose the United States Government as much as he pleases, is talk only. He has had too much experience, and is shrewd enough not to fortify another Echo Canyon to oppose our soldiers. Above the Sainted City, on a plateau in the foot hills, is "Camp Douglass," filled with brave United States troops, commanded by a gentlemanly and brave General. A little army of observation com-rn mands the city, exercising a potent political and moral restraining power upon the despotic rule of the Mormon Church-giving protection to all men and women who desire the safe shelter of the National flag. After our recent terrible conflict to re6stablish the supremacy of our Government, Young very well knows that rebellion would be utter ruin-that the very first attempt of resistance to this Government would recoil and crush him. While they were shut away in this deep valley, by thousands of miles of dreary mountains and great deserts they could( maintain their diabolical institution. But the great I I I I I I I i i i II iI i i i i i i tI i iII ii i i II 333 i i I i i i II I II i i II i II II i i I ii, I ii II i I BEYOND THE WEST. lroads have brought the world to them as of old, d they must now compete for commerce and busi 3s, as they are no longer able to keep them away high-handed laws. We can see no great brilliant future for Mormons. This, like all unnatural, unholy mushroom-isms, er a brief existence, must die and be buried-nody but its own votaries cares how. The dictates, instincts of every unbiased heart's past experice; the general spirit of our country; our great ilization, and the teachings of religion, hold out tir hands to remove this dark.page from our Nanal history. The sooner Brigham Young receives another crown revelation, that polygamy is no longer to be toleted, the better. We were in several families ile in Salt Lake City; where there were from two eight wives; but it was seldom I could see more it one about the house; the others would dodge, d keep where they could not be seen, as if conous of their degradation in the presence of stranrs. One can easily see that they are victims of ep shame, and who would rejoice at deliverance, twithstanding her sainted lord's preaching to make r believe that her forced life is sanctioned by reli n, and that her heaven will be happy only in prortion as she conforms to his wishes, and is obedi f i I I i 334 I I i I i i i I i i i i i ii iI I f i i i i I de no he gio I i Po I Ii THE CONTINENTAL RAILROADS. ent to his requirements. God created in the fullness of perfection, one man and one woman in Eden, and gave them to each other. These, with their children, make the family-the home. Whoever pretends to be wiser, or wickeder than this, will find himself contending against the immutable laws which the Supreme Ruler has established for the guidance of his children. During my stay here, I found much to admire, many to.respect-communed with pleasure and profit before its remarkable natures THFE CONTINENTAL RAILROADS-THE MIDLAND ROUTE AGREED UPON BY CONGRESS. Our space will not permit of more than a brief ref er,nce to the origin, history and completion of thi great enterprise. But a few years ago it required six months to make the journey from any of the out fitting places along the Missouri River to California with oxen or mule teams. The emigrant crept along a few miles per day, under the scorching sun, ove the plains, in a cloud of alkaline dust which his tean made-a long journey of terrible suffering, to men and animals, from exposure, hard labor, hunger and thirst. Should the emigrant be unfortunate, and b caught out in winter, it would take five months long er, with sufferings and dangers increased. Notwith standing the remarkable deprivations and suffering i i I I I I i I i i i i i i 335 II i I i i i I t i II i t I i tI ii i t i I i I i II ii i ii i s BEYOND THE WEST which must necessarily be endured over a great part of this overland route, yet the first ten years after gold was discovered in California, it gained a population three times as large as the Nation did the firsi sixty-eight years after the landing of the Pilgrims. Such was the love of shining gold! Twentythree years ago, when General Fremont was exploring these desolate regions, there was a Welshman at Dubuque, Iowa, by the name of Plumb, who talked and wrote as to the practicability of making a railroad from the Great Lakes to Oregon and the Pacific. He was an engineer by business and profession. When he first agitated the subject, there'were but few railroads in the country-very little population beyond Ohio. The seeds of the now great city of Chicago were then just planted in the centre of a vast unoccupied prairie. Then tra-) pers and tribes of Indians seemed to own all the territory west of the Mississippi. Here lay comparatively an unknown land of two thousand three hulldred miles, across which Plumb's railroad, more a dream than a reality, was to be built. He never relinquished this his favorite plan, and lived long enough to see his early dream made into reality. In 1846, Asa Whitney came out with strength and ability, advocating the construction of a railway from the Mississippi to Puget Sound; but he could not I I i i i i i i i I i 336 I i -- ----- I -—. THE CONTINENTAL RAILROADS. obtain either entcouragement or aid, and his project failed. Thomas H. Benton, twenty years ago, advocated and urged this work upon the country, with an eloquence worthy of the man. Would that we had space to quote some of his own beautiful language, in his address before the first National Convention, held at St. Louis, in 1819, to consider the subject of a railroad to the Pacific. Hon. Thomas Allen, of Pittsfield, made the call for this Convention, addressed to the people. He wrote also the address of the Convention to the Nation-also the Memorial to Congress, urging them to donate land and bonds. His plan was ultimately adopted, and was the basis upon which the Pacific Railroads were built. Benton introduced the first bill in Congress on this subject, and pleads that the Nation shall construct the road from the Missouri to the Pacific. He went further, stood higher, than any of his associates in his able speach; he goes back three centuries and a half, and views Columbus searching for the East by traveling West. He finds him stopped by a Continent which he discovered-yet his great thought —" find the East by going West"-ohas never died. Franklin, Kane, and many other navigators, sacrificed their lives in attempting to solve the problem. But it seemed to be left for our people and this Republic to accomplish the far-seeing I II i I I .I 337 I I I iI i I i I I j II iI I i If I i i I BEYOND THE WEST. purpose of Columbus, by establishing a world'! way over a Continent, transforming the shi a railroad car, which day by day, and ever is launched on the plains, towards the mou westward. This steam car ship of the deser forth in its majesty and strength each day, fre with more valuable material, more intellect any ship that ever circumnavigated the globe This was not the" baseless fabric of a vision the penetrating mind of Benton. He saw in i agination the iron horse pulling its train of den with the productions of the world, and course whistle our praise and breathe in its cious lungs our enterprise over desert plai a mountains vast across this great Continent. Our recent war seems to have more fully d; ed the great necessity of this work, althoug routes had been thoroughly surveyed; yet th ernment was not prepared to undertake the enterprise. Congress had appropriated tw dred and fifty thousand dollars. In all, ten s were made, from the far South to the extreme and published in several large volumes, illus by drawings. After a very careful comparisn investigation of these several reports by Cc the middle route was decided upon and adopt The surveying party, which we will now L ____ ____________ i i i i.. .i i I II I i I L-I i :i . —, -,4...-, i -- i i, I il 1,11 I i l' / I 1 i cI 1 I I t 338 1. f I i I I i I I I i I I iI i I velop. h the e Gov great o hun. urve,ys North, strafed on and ngress, ed. join iD THE CONTINENTAL RAILROADS. imagination, start at Omaha, on the Missouri River, nine hundred and eight feet above tide water, pass ing through the valley of the Platte River, crossing it once, till they reach the highest summit of the Bocky Mountains, eight tlhousand four hundred and twenty-four feet above the ocean. This is the highest point in all the survey; but the rise has been so gradual, that you can't realize that you are on the summit of the Continent. You now pass over what is mostly a desert plateau, four hundred and twenty-one miles to Echo Canyon, from five thousand to sever thousand five hundred feet elevation. You begin to understaled what a desert means. It is a plateau, once the bottom of an ocean, heaved up by volcanic agency, while here and there in it is a sharp, thrusting up of rocks in ridges, looking as if they belonged to some world worn out and left. Passing through that wonderful place, Echo Canyon, you now enter another plateau, about five hundred miles in extent, but ribbed with naked mountains, rising from five thousand to seven thousand feet. This second and last plateau brings you to the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Where you cross over this lofty ridge, at the pass near Doner Loke, is seven thousand and sixty-two feet above the sea. You must now descend two thousand five hunrdred and seventeen feet in the next fi' I I I i i i i i I I I I I I I I 1, 339 i I i I 11 i I I BEYOND THE WEST ty miles. In the next ninety-eight miles you must descend six thousand nine hundred and sixty-six feet more. You are now over and in the valley of the Sacramento. This was the path marked out when Congress passed the Pacific Railroad Bill, to connect the Atlantic and the Pacific. i i I I i i i I i II i iI I I i i i 340 C[APTER XXXII. THE UNION PACIFIC COMPANY-EARLY HISTORY-CON STRUCTION AND COMPLETION. The Union Pacific Company owns from Omaha to Promontory-l,085 miles. This Company is a New York organization, composed of about a dozen men, practically, who have built the road and own the most of it. They had the work done by contractthat is, a company within a company, and the profits upon construction have been very large. The immense amount of materials piled upon the river bank at Omaha, indicate the great work. The thousands of men, teams, ties, rails, and the many appliances, cover the bank for miles. The great cast iron tubes are also there, seventy feet long and eight feet in diameter: one to be placed below low water-mark and the other above it, properly ftastened together. They are to be placed upright, all the water pumped out, and then filled with solid( masonry. They are eighteen in number, and are to be used in constructing the great bridge over the Missouri, estimated to cost two million dollars. At first everything must be done with men and teams, as no railroads are built to Oi-taha; even I I I I i I I BEYOND THE WEST. their locomotives have to be drawn on wagons one hundred and fifty to two hundred miles. Each mile requires six hundred tons of rail and two thousand six hundred and fifty ties. Roads in this part of the country average but one thousand seven hundred to the mile. These were collected and brought from long distances to Omaha, and then drawn upon wagons on the line of the road. It is said there were as many as six thousand teams employed at one time hauling materials on the road; but after the first twenty-five or thirty miles was completed a locomotive was placed upon the track to take forward materials. Thomas C. Durant had energetic associates, but he was the central motive power. Having been a large railroad builder and operator, he engaged largely in the enterprise during the early, uncertain years of the war. He furnished firom his private means the larger portion of the first resources. He had built western roads before, over the prairies, in advance of settlements, and had learned how they take along with them population and business. After he completed the first two or three hundred miles of the road it became evident that large profits would be realized Then the few men composing the company had no more trouble to obtain all the means needed to complete the work. The expenses were I I i I i I I 342 THE UNION PACIFIC COMPANY. enormous, yet the road was very rapidly pushed forward. Everything, workmen, and a wonderful amount of materials, bad to go forward upon one track. With the wonderful amount of means and energy used in forwarding the construction of this road, no obstacles could be presented which were not readily overcome. The unusual strange camp life of the workmen was more like a large advancing army than railroad makers. A train of cars containing provisions, cooking apparatus, and beds, or rather blankets, for fifteen to eighteen thousand men; also tents like those of an army, all accompany the working multitude, each night having a different home. The ground was graded usually fifty miles ahead of the track-layers, when they would put down the sleepers, and when all was ready four rails were drawn from the cars, laid and spiked fast in a minute. Thus the gradually advancing mixed multitude pushed on the great work, beyond laws and officers, and away from thie restraints of civilized society. When a place was selected for a new terminus sixty or eighty miles ahead, the gamblers, the desperadoes, the State Prison graduates, and the most profligate men and women congregate, lay out the tent city, open their rum shops, gambling houses and hellhouses. Eighteen thousand men receiving four dollars a dav and board, money was abundant, and this i t i. I I i I i I I I I' t I I I I 343 i i, i'I i iI 'i I iII I i BEYOND THE WEST. traveling "Hell," as it was called, obtained more than their share of the profits on construction. Murder and lawlessness became so common that the workmen were obliged, in self-defence, to organize vigilance committees and exercise their own laws. They would mark these desperate fellows, and when any one had done enough to hang him he would be waited upon by a committee. They would send an armed band into his gambling or drinkinghouse, march him away, give him a jury trial, allow him a few hours to prepare for death, and before morning he was hanged. As many as a dozen have been thus suspended in a single camp in one night. The most of those they hanged were murderers. The halter was the only punishment the villains dreaded. When an inquiry was made after one thus disposed of, they would answer: "I understand he broke his neck in climbing a tree." Aniotler feature, uInprecedented in making railroads, was, that the printing press traveled with the working trains, and daily papers were issued. This was a kind of portable business village, and would have drug shops, restaurants, whisky saloons, and all kinds of goods. For this privilege the occupalnts would pay fifteen hundred or two thousand dollars to the railroad company for ground sufficient upon which to place their tent. The road was driveln i i i i i I 344 THE UNION PACIFIC COMPANY. forward, summer and winter, with an energy unprecedented; gradually rising up ninety-two feet to the mile from Cheyenne to the summit of the Rocky Mountains, when a road is made through and they pass onward. No railroad could have been successful through this woodless country if coal had not been found suitable for the locomotive. But fortunately, here in the mountains, it has been found so near the track that it can almost be shoveled into the cars. It is soft, and of a middling quality, which is good for the engine. No section of country could be more destitute of wood. On the whole road from Omaha there is not a tree on the route. The first one stands marked, "The Thousand Mile Tree I" In the construction of the railroad, Brigham Young took a large contract to do the grading for the track, fifty miles each way from his people, hoping thus to keep his "Saints" the more secluded and draw money into his settlement, or more especially into his own possession. This gave him a favorable opportunity to let out the emigrant to work, and thereby get back the money he had advanced for his passage, as all emigrants bind themselves to refurnd ths mone as soon as they cank+ obai t. was work I I 345 BEYOND THE WEST. were no murders, no fighting, no drunkenness. There is but one place in Mormondom where intoxicating liquors are publicly sold, and that individual pays over seven thousand dollars a year for the privi. lege. I I I i i I I I I I i I I i I i 346 I CHAPTER XXXIII. THE CENTRAL PACIFIC COMPANY-ORIGIN AND CON STRUCTION. The men who first undertook the construction of the California portion of this continental line were Charles Crocker, Stanford and Huntington. On the anniversary of the battle of New Orleans in 1863, a year and a half earlier than work was begun at Omaha, the ground was broken at Sacramento. Governor Stanford shoveled the first dirt from a wagon, where the road was to commence. Now having made a beginning, the many difficulties to be provided for, seeming almost insurmountable obstacles, which must be overcome, required much ability and an unconquerable energy that no obstacles would stop. For hundreds of miles on the level plains, nature had done most of the grading; but foot-hills, larger hills, and the worst mountain ranges for the railroad on the continent must be penetrated. Some mountains were soft and sliding, in the rainy season nearly impassable, while others were rock, so hard that it seemed impossible to drill them. The rails, and much of the materials, must be shipped from New York, and go all the way BEYOND TUE WEST. round Cape Horn, a distance of nineteen thousand miles. There was at one time thirty odd vessels pushing their road around Cape Horn, loaded with locomotives, rails and other articles for this road. Among the heavy forest of the Sierra Nevadas were a quarter of a hundred saw mills, making for the road six hundred and twenty-five thousand feet of lumber daily. A thousand men were engaged daily to supply the mills with logs. Their axes were the first echoes of civilization that rang through this part of the mountains and caused the mighty woods to lie down and make a road for the nations. The mountains, nearly inaccessible, gave forth timber and stone, with a remarkable liberality. The two roads laid down generally seven hundred tons of iron daily during the working days. One road laid over ten miles of rail in a single day and the other one laid eleven. Eight thoust nd Chinamen were employed, and the road could not have been built as soon, nor as cheaply, had it not been done by these people. They proved to be the most profitable workmen for the company. Among them all there were no murders, no use for vigilance organizations, no disturbances, no whisky shops, and consequently no drunkenness. These heathenish children set a good example for those building the other road. The road goes slowly up the mountains. If I I 348 THE CENTRAL PACIFIC COMPANY. eet one they can neither climb over nor go h; therefore, -around and up it the track ill a point is reached high enough to move on the opposite ridge of another mountain ery high trestled work. In one place the es six miles round a mountain and makes but ead; they come to solid granite mountains w ust be blasted away, and the track clings to des', or a tunnel is driven through them. are fifteen tunnels, which united would to six thousand two hundred and sixty-two D the sides of the great mountain dashes the aters of the American River, a mere brookle the surrounding mountains rise till their e covered with perpetual snows. Nearly h er the eternal snows is the little "Summit ' about a mile in length by half the distance and looks as if it had moved away from a ngenial sunshine to spend a summer amid , desolate rocks, volcanic mountains and snows. Then comes the long tunnel through emit range, through rock as hard as porphyry, Ild be blasted only by glycerine, seven thouet above sea level. The track now climbs he mountain side; where the rock is the very kind of granite the excavations were made I I i I fI I 1. I I I I i I 349 I Ii hardest .1 1. BEYOND THE WEST. with great difficulty. The fifteen tunnels are the best evidence of the rocks. The mountains climbed to the home of eternal winter, and a road for the steam horse made through their tops; so that when seen in August, at a distance, the tunnels look like a hole made through a great snow bank with gray lining. Here among the highest of the Sierras, where the avalanches slide, are the sheds, made strong that the snow may pass over. Where the snow falls from twenty to thirty feet deep, are sheds supported by large, round tree-trunks placed securely beside the track, and supporting a double roof made of inch boards, so that the snow falls on either side away from the track. These sheds are now about forty miles in length and answer a good purpose. The mountains passed, we came to one of Nevada's everlasting white alkali deserts, forty miles wide, when the road reaches the Humboldt flats. where the grade is not difficult to build the road the balance of the way. The Pacific is the best built road. The Union is the longest and began later. When we consider the unparalleled shortness of time in which the work was done, they are monutments of remarkable achievement in this nineteenth century. I I i i i i II i r II 'l, i I I I I 350 i I I II I I' I i II I i I t II i II I I I i i I i I I i i i I I iI i CHAPTER XXXIV. CONNECTING THE ROADS. We are now on a high plateau, surrounded by forbidding mountains-except for their greatness. A headland rises boldly before us; it is "Promontory Point." Engines and trains from the East and West, with a forest of flags, stand facing each other. A small space as yet-has no track. The man Evans, who had furnished the Central Company two hundred and fifty thousand ties, and who had furnished the first tie laid, now was there with the last, a good specimen of California laurel, which was properly put in place, and then removed and preserved. At a given time, the master spirits of the two roads met; then came workmen from the East, and Chi.tnamen from the West, bearing the last ties and rails. A few boards set up is the Telegraph office. Arrangements have been made with all the Telegraph offices in the country, so as to have them coniected. At the appointed time, the last tie is put in place, and before the rails are laid, the telegraph sends over the country, "Are you all ready?" Back comes I I I i i I II I I I I I I II I' 1-1 —-; —----- -. i i I I I I ii i i 1. i. i 11I ,i i I 1 I' ! a i i II BEYOND THE WEST. the reply, "All ready." The telegraph then says, "At the third tap, it will be finished." "We undeRstand," say the officers. Prayer is made to consecrate the great work, thanking God for having lifted up this great Continent, and for endowing man with such great ability, to complete so great a work. Now the last rail is laid and fastened. A wire is coiled around a silver hammer, and the President of the Central Pacific taps the head of the golden spike, which announced to the country that the work was done-the roads were united. In three minutes telegrams came back from the cities: "The bells are ringing and the people rejoicing." This mountain wedding occurred May 10th, 18C,9. There were about three thousand people present at the ceremony; but the whole Nation were also pres ent to "Rivet the last Pacific rail With a silver hammer and a golden nail; Now the rising and the setting sun Shall see the East and West are one. State linked with State, with iron bands Our Unio)n shall be one forever." i r i i I — I i i 352 DISTANCES. New York to Omaha...........................1,479 miles. UNION PACIFIC LINE. Miles. ,Omaha to Hazard......... 522 Omaha to Othoe........5.. 5 2 Omaha to Granite Canyon. 536 Omaha to Buford........2O a S r. 542 Omaha to Shery lan 2O o....... 549 Omaha to Red Butte...... 564 Omaha to Fort Sanders... 2571 Omaha to Laramie........ 572 Omaha to Wyoming........3 586 Omaha to Cooper's Lake...3 598 Omaha to Lookout.......3O a G ni 604 Omahi to Miser......... 615 Omaha to Rock Creek..... 622 Omaha to Como.......... 637 Omaha to Medicine Bow.. 644 Omaha to Carbon t...... 653 ,Omaha to St. Mary's....... 657 :Omaha to Simpson....... 658 Omaha to Percy......... 665 Omraha toDan a........... 672 Omaha to Benton......... 694 )Omaha to Rawlins........ 709 'Omaha to Separation...... 721 Omaha to Creston........ 738 Omaha to Wash-a kie.... 750 Omaha to Red Desert..... 759 Omaha to Table Rock..... 770 Omaha to Bitter Creek... 783 Omaha to Black Buttes... 792 iOmaha to Point ot Rocks..- 8()3 ,Omaha to Salt Weils...... 818 Omaha to Rock Springs.... 829 Omaha to Green River.... 844 :Omaha to Bryan.... 858 ::Omaha to Granger, Utah.. 874 :Omaha to Church Buttes.. 885 "Omaha to Carter.......... 901 ,Omaha to Bridget....... 912 ,Omaha to Piedmont...... 925 :Omaha to Aspen...... 937 ,Omaha to Evanston....... 952 ,Omaha to Wasatch......... 963 :Omaha to Echc City..... 986 :Omaha to Ogden........ 10:0 I (Branch to Salt Lake City, 40 {miles.). Miles Omaha to Summit Sidney, Nebraska.............. 4 Omaha to Papillion........ 12 Omaha to Elkhorn........ 2b Omaha to Valley............... 35 Omaha to Fremont...........4Om 46 Omaha to North Bend..... 61 Omaha to Shell Creek... 75 Omaha to Columbus......91O Omaha to Jackson......... 99 Omaha to Silver Creek.... 109 Omaha to Clark........... 12( Omaha to Lone Tree.... 1R81 Omaha to Chapman...... 142 Omaha to Grand Island.. 153 Omaha to Pawnee....... 161 Omaha to Wood River.... 172 Omaha to Gibbon........ 182 Omaha to Kearney......... 191 Omaha to Stevenson...... 201 Omaha to Elm Creek...... 211 Omaha to Overton........ 220 Omaha to Plum Creek 2O h op t.... 230 Omaha to Coyote........ 240 Omaha to Willow Island.. 250 Omaha to Warren........ 260 Om[aha to Brady Island... 268 Omaha to McPherson........4 O 277 Omaha to Nortlh Platte...4 291 Omraha to O'Fallons......, m. 307 Omaha to Alkali.......... 322 Omaha to Roscoe.......... 332 Omaha to Ogallala........ 341 Omaha to Big Spring..... 360 Omaha to Julesburg....... 377 Omaha to Lcdge Pole..... 396 Omaha to Sidney......... 414 Omaiha to Potter.......... 433 Omaha to Antelope....... 451 Omaha to Bushinell...... 463 Omaha to Pine Pluff....... 478 Omaha to E:Ebert........ 484 Omaha to Hillside......... 49q Omaha to Archer......... 50 Omaha to Cheyenne, Wg.. 51(Branch to Denver, 110 miles, i iI I I y. i 353 i i i i I BEYOND THE WEST. CENTRAL PACIFIC LINE. Miles., Miles. Ogden to Brigham City, Ogden to Humboldt...... 491 Utah......21.O.... Ogden to Humboldt Bridge 491 Ogden to Corinne, (Bear Ogden to Browns......... 513 City)................... 24:Ogden to Humboldt Lake. 516 Ozden to Promontory City. 53iOgden to White Plains... 525 Ozden to Monument Point. 80;Oglden to Mirage........ 532 Ogden to Red Dome Pass. 104 Ogden to Hot Springs.... 540 Ogden to Terrace Point... 124:Ogden to Desert........550 Ogden to North Point of Ogden to Two Mile Station 557 Desert................. 136Ogden to Wadsworth..... 559 Ogden to Passade Creek. 158;Ogden to Clarks.......... 574 Ogden to North Pass, Ne- Ogden to Camp No. 37,... 586 vada................... 184Ogden to Reno. 593 Ogden to Pequop Pass.... 202'(Branch to Virginia City, 17 m.) Ogden to Independence:Ogden to Verdi............. 603 Springs............... 207:Ogden to Camp No. 24.... 619 Ogden to Humboldt Wells 222:Ogden to Boca, California. 620 Ogden to Denver......... 242:Ogden toTrukee.......... 628 Ogden to Peko............ 258 Ogden to Summit........ 642 Ogden to Osino........... 2680Ogden to Cisco..........656 Ogden to Elko............ 278 Ogden to Emigrant Gap... 664 Ogden to Moleen........... 290:Ogden to Blue Canyon... 670 Ogden to Carlin....... 3t)1 Ogden to China Ranch.... 672 Ogden to Palisade.......... 10Ogden to Shady Run..... 674 Ogden to Cluro........... 321.Ogden to Alta............ 679 Ogden to Be-o-wa-we..... 329'Ogden to Dutch Flat...... 681 Ogden to Shoshone...... 389 Ogden to Gold Run... 683 Ogden to Argenta......... 350 Ogden to C. H. Mills...... 689 Ogden to Nebur.......... O58 Ogden to Colfax.......... 693 Ogden to Battle Mountain. 367 Ogden to N. E. 6ils..9... 699 Ogden to Stonehouse..... 381 Ogden to Clipper Gag.... 705 Ogden to Iron Point...... 394 Ogd n to Auburn......... 711 Ogden to Golconda....... 405 Ogden to Newcastle...... 716 Ogden to, Tule........... 41'Ogden to Reno.......... 722 Ogden to Winnemucca.... 422:0Oden to Rocklin........ 726 Ogden to Rose Creek.... 432 Ogden to Junction........ 730 Ogden to Raspberry Creek 443.Ogder to Antelop e........ 733 Ogden to Mill City....... 454) Ogden to Arcade........... 740 Ogden to Rye Patch...... 474'Ogden to Sacramento........ 748 Ogden to Sacramento................. 748 miles. Sacramento to San F'rancisco.......... 120 mile. NEW YORK TO SAN FRANCISCO.....3..,377 miles. ~i.____ _ iI i i I II II i F — i i i 354 i i i iI i I i i i i I i I I il", i I I i I I i i iI i I I I i 11 I i iI I I11 II CONNECTING THE ROADS. Now the National Mountain Wedding over, the last link is supplied, and the Continent is bound to gether with iron rails, and the distance around the globe shortened, so that now the long journey call be made in three months, bringing the Nations o)f the world much nearer to each other.' You leave New York by steam to Liverpool; by steam on land you spin through France; by steam you go from France on the water to Alexandria; from Alexandria, on rail, steam takes you to Suez; from Suez to China or Japan, on water, by steam; from China to San Francisco, by steam; and now overland, by rail, to New York." This earth-born civilizer pushes its way among and through the most enlightened Nations of the earth. England, with her unti'ing industry-aggressive, massive, a true representative of the old Roman civilization. France, the umpire of taste, the creator of fashion, a workshop of the beautiful. Egypt, a land that ever has been an unsolved problem. Chlina, with her never movable half-civilization waiting her time; and India expecting the English people to do more for her than she can do for herself. And next comes our goodly heritage, the New World, working out for all the people of the Old World the great problem of self-government-freedom for all, individual responsibilities, aspirations and achie,vements. I i ,l I i I 355 BEYOND THE WEST. Wherever these lines of rapid communication traverse a country, God establishes a superior civilization, and the shuttles seem to start anew, to weave the habi.iments of which all people must wear-the religion of the earth-and here along this "highway of Nations," are gathered the wealth, the population, the intelligence, working thought, power to plan and power to do the best which the world possesses. By means of this steam power, the heaviness of olden times is beginning to be arrested, by constant contact with that which is more vigorous and healthful. William IH. Seward said, when that road shall have been extended to the Pacific Ocean, disunion will be rendered forever afterwards impossible. There will be no fulcrum for the lever of Treason to rest upon. There seemed to be special eras in the world's history; also, in the advancement of the human family. Our time is the day for making the earth smaller, by creating speed, making all the nations around the globe more neighborly; a broth: erhood practically saying: " Prepare ye the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway, for our God and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed." Everybody desires to know bow the Continental Rai'road is built, befitting or betraying the remark-. able endowments of Congress. Well, with a qualification, as well as new roads I I i I II I II 3 - 6 II II i i I i,iI I I i I I I I . I. I i CONNECTING THE ROADS.3 ire generally built in this country; as goao( consistent with such haste; the ties are la] put closer than the eastern roads; the rails sylvania iron, and as good as the iron consci those men permitted. In portions of the road, reconstructions a sary, and should be made; not properly a wooden bridges and culverts should be reb stone; embarikments need widening; ma] curves should be straightened, and grades ev But these reconstructions and improvements will be made. The road has been compl will prove such a mine of wealth to its owr they should be held by the public and the ment to a strict performance of all their obl No national improvement was ever so libe dowed; none was ever so rapidly built. ernment aid was given, in ignorance of the of the woik. The cost was much less than pected. Congress voted sixteen thousand per mile of plain country; thirty-two thou Jars per mile of more difficult work, and fo thousand dollars per mile of the higher and mountains passed over. Nearly two-third entire line is thlroug,h "plain" country; yet, description, only about one-third was so The average government grant was thirty I I i I I I 357 I i i i i i I i ii I I i i I i I I counted. thousand I i i i i I i i i BEYOND THE WEST. dollars per mile, and the companies first mortgaged bonds, which had a ready sale, and doubled this amount as the cash capital for the construction of the road, or sixty thousand dollars per mile. But the actual cost has not probably been in excess of the government bounty alone. After equipment, it did not cost over forty thousand dollars a mile. This would give the owners a net cash profit, on construction and opening the road, of thirty-four million of dollars. But more than this: The company own the capita] stock of the road, and also own half the lands on either side their tracks for a width of,twenty miles. This has been one of the most gigantic speculationrs on the American Continent; and it is hoped that no other Railroad Company will ever receive such government aid as this has. But the great work is done-the great need-atid only by such magnificent liberality could the country have the Continental Railway so soon-a large addition to our Nationality, to (,ur Commerce, to our Wealth, that will be in a few years worth the cost. As the Pacific Railroad is now, and will be for some time to come, an interesting subject in our American history, is our justification for this article upon it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 3 I I I I I i i II I I 358 i I i I i I i i II II i i i i i I i i I L — ij CHAPTER XXXV. NEVADA-MINES AND MINING-AGRICULTURAL PRO DUCTS-PHYSICAL ASPECTS. Passing from this great inland basin of Utah from Mormon development, we travel over an unusually frowning, barren, alkali, ever-present sage brush country, seemingly useless, except to hold the continent together and teach patience to travelers, a distance of three hundred and seventy-five miles to Austin, the center of mining in Eastern Nevada, as Virginia City is in the Western. These two are the most conspicuous and representative places of silver mining on the Pacific coast or on the continent. Austin is the metropolis, the business center for a very large mining section north, east and south, for bundreds of miles, where the distant mining camps obtain supplies and transact their principal business. The town is built near the center of Reese River valley, on the east side, and like most mining towns, is straggling, crowded in a canyon between high, ashen, treeless, naked mountains, towering up hundreds of feet high on either side the principal thoroughfare. Tunnels, shafts, ditches, and various other excavations. with immense piles of granite i -C i I I 'i i i i i i I 1 i I i I i I IIi I i Ii .1 I BEYOND THE WEST. and reddish earth, show the persevering industry of the minters-like a prairie dog village, magnified from mole-hills to mountains. Several large quartz mills are located here, owned by companies in the Eastern States; some very expensive, costing over two hundred thousind dollars. But few of them have as yet been remunerative to their owners. Some never started on the work for which they were built. Most mining companies thii)nk that when they can get a mill their fortunes will be made. Here lies the disappointments and the heavy losses to very many who make mining investments. They discover when too late that they have done their first work wheie they should have done their last-began at the wrong end of the business. No individual or company, if they know their interest, will think of erecting a quartz mill until their mine or mines in the vicinity are sufficiently developed to insure paying nmill work. Mining is an uncertain business, and those who build expensive mills without first getting out paying ore enough to pay for erecting a mill, are very likely to be ultimately disappoirnted, and their imaginative fortune not realized. Expensive mills can now be seent about tl'e country rottin)g down for want of paying ore to work. Maniy nmills have b)een built where the prospects at the time were favorable, but after the I i II I i I i i i i 360 i i i i I I i .1 i I I i i II i.I I I I I I I I II I I II I I face ore was workeo 1 the mills remain i hvy loBs and remove 361 1 sur an( heo l enc ran lea not car inv int iind out larg frot real The gol( find rich the mu, pro The at e lati man wotls one todcieacnfdn ulc ric. Th r sntdfiutt eue oto LL _ II I f I I I NEVADA. i I warm summer morning. When a mine is sunken a few hundred feet, if it be a good one, a stationary engine is so placed, and the requisite machinery made so that the workmen are let down and drawn up the shaft hundreds of feet with safety and rapidity. A shaft is commonly four by six feet in the clear, so that a small car can be let down, in which the ore is placed at the bottom of the mine, and raised to the surface, placed on its track, and run off to the "dump pile." Should some of the ore be poor, experienced men sort it, and throw out all that will not pay milling expenses. A straight shaft is generally put down on a lead; and if rich or paying quartz is found, the lead is drifted upon-that is, side cuts made from the shaft along on the lead, when the ore so obtained is wheeled to the shaft and hoisted. Where the distance is long, a car track is put down in the mine, which is more convenient than to wheel it. There is a fascination and much information in studying the quarrying, and the various processes requisite for the proper reduction of gold and silver ore. The construction of a great steam mrnill, with its very heavy, somewhat complicated machinery, working out yellow bars or shining bricks daily, is of much interest. The quartz is deposited in front of the stamps, on a solid floor, where it is broken by a small I I i II I I i I i i I I I I i i 362 BEYOND TM WEST. I i I i I ~ NEVADA. stoiie hammer into small pieces; then it is shovelled into the feeders or stamp bed, where the great iron stamps, weighing from five to eight hundred pounds each, hammer away day and night, rising and falling sixty times a minute, making the building tremble while they crush the rock to powder —making the surrounding hills resonant with the heavy music, every echo from which says-" bullion!" We do not mean the hydra-headed stamps of Uncle Sam, which produce other and different notes, but the crushing music of the mill stamps, every blow from which has a silvery ring. The pulp, if free from base metals, is now put into amalgamating pans, with quicksilver and plenty of warm water, in which the whole is agitated, the refuse material passes off in the water, while the quicksilver collects the precious metal into,- mass of shining amalgum, which is put into a fire-retort of iron, with a pipe allowing the fumes of quicksilver to escape, which is condensed into cold water to be again used. The metal in a rough state is now taken to an assayer, where it is melted and run into bricks or bars, of the precious metals, with the fixed value stamped upon it. The process seems simple, which takes heavy, worthless-looking ore, and transforms it into glowing gold and shining silver. Yet, this philosopher's stone has been discovered only by I I I I i I 363 i i I I i I I BEYOND THE WEST. unusual toil, great skill and almost endless experimenting. Silver ore is quarried, broken and crushed, very nearly as gold quartz. When ores of either kind are found in combination with baser metals, after being finely crushed, it must be roasted in large ovens, un til the corroding substances are burnt away, before quicksilver will take up the desirable part. Silver mining, like all that is montey, is very uncertain. A miner may have a claim today, giving promise of a fortune, and he could sell it for a hundred thousand dollars, but to-morrow the quartz may stop, or the lode may be cut off. He may, perhaps, find it again, after excavating the min- a hundred or three hundred feet, and he may never find it. In hunting for it, he may expend all his means, and more, without finding it, and he finds himself a poor man, but not discouraged. He packs himself, and off he rushes to find another claim. He may find and prospect a hundred, and not find silver in pay. img quantities. If my observition and experience be correct, not one lead in a hundred contains ore in quantities to even pay for working. An experienced man can take from almost any lead a few speci. mens which will assay rich, while it would be worthless for working. These are the kind of very rice mines, the product of which have been so often sen' I i I i I I I I I I i I i i I I i I i i i i 364 i I i I I i NEVADA. to New York and the East, as very many men have learned by dearly bought experience, first and last. The mining business is like a lottery, where there is thousands of blanks to one prize. The first discovery of silver at Austin was made l y a pony express rider in July, 1862. The information soon spread, excitement ran high, and the usual rush of miners, speculators, traders, mechanics, and all manner of gamblers followed. The townr was rapidly built up, went through the trying or deal of infant mining camps, and finally settled down into a substantial mining and commercial city. There are no villages in this country; every place is either a city or a camp; consequently many places spoken of here as cities, we would call small villages or settlements. All the heavy machinery had to come from C(ali (fornia; also supplies were hauled by teams three hundred miles and upwards up the Sierras and over the desert, at a cost of from eight to ten cents per pound. The railroad is eighty miies north of the city. A good wagon road through Reese River valley connects it with the railroad on the Humboldt Flats. This valley is the largest and most productive valley in Eastern Nevada; it is nearly a hundred miles long by from five to ten miles wide, lying between I II i--i II I i I i i i t 1I i 3 6"-') i i i i i I I t i i i i I i. i i 1 i i IIi i : I ii I I I I Ii i;I i I BEYOND THE WEST. two parallel mountain ranges running north and south, and having on either side many mining dis tricts. Reese River is something of a stream, starting from the snowy ranges sixty-five miles south of Austin, and runs through the entire valley north, losing its identity in the sink of the Humboldt. The river sinks some ten miles south of the city and travels in subterranean passages about twenty miles, then comes to the surface again and goes on in the usual way. Ranching is quite profitable in the valley; barley is usually a heavy crop and commands a good price for feed. Some other kinds of grain are grown, and all the varieties of the hardier vegetables are grown successfully. But a very small amount of the land in the valley can be cultivated for the want of sufficient water to irrigate. Here, as elsewhere in this country, the amount of land cultivated depends wholly on the amount of water which can be obtained. No fruit has been grown here of any kind. The apple trees we saw growing (only in one place) in the valley looked unpromising; Evidently they were not at home here. The nights are too cold in early spring, which destroys the fruit buds. The valley is five thousand feet above the sea, and the I i i i ti i i iI I 866 I i i I i i I I i i I i i I i i I I i i I I I i i Ii i I i i i i i i i i I i i 11I i i ii I II i I i I I i i NEVADA. town six thousand feet; the air is light; physical exercise causes shortness of breath. Those wearing artificial teeth are troubled tod keep them in the mouth, so light is the atmospheric pressure. Austin has a population of a little more than four thousand people, and no hotels, in the American sense, but lodging houses, with restaurants often quite distant-often in another part of the town. All business transactions here, since the suspension f specie, has been done on a gold basis; if greenbacks are used it is at coin rates. Hlere we first meet Pacific Coast life and enterprise. A number of new kitnds of people are herethe Mexican. with his pack mules; the Celestials, doing nearly all the domestic labor of the town; also several other nationalities, largely represented, making the population much more mixed —some dressed in their national costume. Cbntinuing westward by coach from Austin, we cross Reese River valley, and enter upon one of Nevada's poorest ashen deserts. The disagreeableness of the alkine dust, as of old, envelops horses, vehicle and occupants, a distance of three hundred and twenty miles; but these are now among the rubbish of the past, only to be occasionally remembered. Most mining towns are thrown loosely along some tortuous ravine; but Virginia City, for a time tlhe -i -I' I i ii i i i I !, ii I i i I. I I I ": I i i i - i I I I: I i I,I iI i ii I i i i iI 4 i I i i II i i II II i ii i i BEYOND q HE WEST. only metropolis of Nevada, looks as if it had grown half way up the side of the mountain, near the limit of vegetation. I suppose a more forbidding. dreary, desolate spot exists not on the face of the globe, than the site of Virginia City, as it was in 1859. Notaliving thing green on the barren desert waste, if you except a few, very few stunted cedar bushes, and Hiorace Gree ley's everlasting sage brush, interspersed by now and then-say, perhaps, ten to the acre-solitaiy blades of grass; in short, not one attractive, but many repulsive features. Yet, on this naturally miserble spot, whose only redeeming, yet all powerful feature was the mineral hidden beneath its surface, has in a little over four years, risen a magnificent city, rivalling many even very prosperous ones on the Atlantic slope, of ten or even twenty years growth. The locality is forbidding, treeless and verdureless; and sometimes it would seem that all the storm winds of Heaven were let loose together, by the rapidity with which they sweep through the citysometimes reminding those pedestrians who stand on slippery places, that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. Two prospecters in pursuit of gold, discovered here ill 1859 a vein.of dark-colored ore, which, being assayed, proved to be silver. .In unusual rush for the somewhat remarkable re II I iI I i i i i i I I I i 368 I i 1 I i i i i 0 i I I i I i i I i i i i NEVADA. gion began; the mine being rich, a city sprung up like Jonah's gourd-not upon a hill, but on the side o' one which cannot be hid. The city is built over its wealth; consists in one very unusual deposit of ore, the celebrated Comstock Ledge, which has proven to be one of the most remarkable deposits of the kind on the Continent-unknown any where else in the world-more a wonderful blow-up or deposit, than a lead. We go down its shafts many hundred feet; meander through the many drifts on the different levels of the main shaft; saw the toiling miner st work. There are hundreds of men down here, but the place is so vast you hardly see half a dozen together. You hear a little rumble, and suddenly meet a loaded car, a miner shoving it, his candle stuck in his hat or in an upright of his car; or you come hastily upon two or three men running from a blast which they have just fired; or you hear the picks of a gang down the passage, but you cannot see a man in the gross darkness. When one has stumbled along many hundred feet in various directions, and when the little basins have thoroughly wet one's feet, and the percolating streams have soaked head and shoulders. we are quite willing to go back to daylight and civilization. We examined the extensive subterranean timber 11.,... i 1I I I Ii 369 I i i I 4 BEIYOND THE WEST. ing of the mine to prevent its caving, and the nma chinery requisite to do the inmenlse work. It {s estimated that there is more lumber under the town than in the whole City of Virginia above ground. The deposit is from thirty to eighty feet wide, much of it loose, requiring only shoveling up. Some of the richest of the ore has been) sent to Swansea, in Wales, for crushing. These mills guarantee to ex tract all the silver, to the full amount of scientific assay; whereas no mills in the State will agree to return more than eighty per cent. of the assay. The quartz here is more easily reduced than any other in Nevada-it being free from corroding substances, sulch as the sulphates, pyrites of iron, arsenic, &c.; does not require roasting, like the ore at Austin and most other mining districts, which make about half difference in the milling expenses. The Gold Cur ry Company took from their claim-within a space of five hundred and fifty feet in length by less than five hundred in depth-Fifteen Million Dollars. Tlie i stamps put in opertion here have given larger re turns than in any other mining region on this Conti nent. The Comstock has a constitution of its own, different from most silver mines, but has an increas itig and varying richness, like other mines. A body of ore small at the surface may, at a great er or less depth, expand to a great size-and vice r~~~~~~~ I II i II i I I I 370 il I I i i i t i I I II NEVADA. versa. The geological formation of this hill and lead is as singular as its rich ore is rare. Such a formation is very advantageous for mining, as the ore is in vast quantity, pure and rich, and easily mined. The exhaustion of the mine is almost a matter of impossibility, and none now living will see it accormplished. Here began the first silver mining in the United States. This is the continental belt ot the metalliferous deposits, is of vast extent and richness, is about three hundred miles wide, and establishes its geological connection with the historic mines of Mexico and Peru, and extends as far north as the persevering miner has yet prospected. Precisely on this line in the Mexican States, are the great silver mines, which have been worked for three and a half centuries by the Spaniards-furnishing'the world with large quantities of silver coin and bullion. This is but a portion of that vast region of tile precious metals, extending along the volcanic formation, from the Andes in South America, to the Cascade Mountains in Oregon. The principal mineral wealth of the world has been found in the mountain ranges which look out over the Pacific Ocean. Nevada is justly called the" Silver State," although her mining is yet in its infancy. The yield is enormous. In the short space of ten years, she has climb, K-___ .371 BEYOND THE WEST. ed from frowning deserts and forbidding mountains, by silver steps, to a prominent position in the eyes of the world and in the hearts of the American people. These mines will not always go begging; but until they are made productive, they must be suppliant at the throne of capital. It should be remembered that silver mines, unlike tho,se of gold, require long. continued labor and much capital properly expended, before they yield up their shining treasure. Silver is never found detached like gold. The metal being wholly confined in fossiliferous quartz rock, has to be ground and elaborately worked in costly mills before it can be made available. Geologists agree that quartz leads had their origin far down in the bowels of the earth, and were forcibly ejected from beneath through openings formed by some violent convulsion of nature in the old granite rocks. These crevices are detected, and traced from surface indications. The treatment of galena silver quartz, which is found largely in Mexico and Arizona, and some places in Nevada, is very different from the other kinds; the ore requires -smelting instead of stamping. The largest establishment for working this kind of,re, I visited at Oreanna, on the Humboldt Flats. The ore here conItained such a large percentage of lead, that it wou'd form a solid mass when st,-imriy I I II1,I I[ Ii i —i i i i I .I 3 i') i I i i I i i i i i i i ii I i i II I Ii I i i I i i I I1,I I II I II I I I I I 1. I i II I i! i I N. EVADD. Thie smelting furnaces are built ve used in our iron froundries. Ch fuel. After a fire-is started, alte ore and coal are put into the f melted, is drawn out like molter and lead together, which is mold pig-iron. The only real difficulty in this separating the small amount of si mense quantities of lead, as the two hundred and fifty dollars in sE lead. It was not separated here, erable cost to San Francisco fo lead is very pure, equal to the be on the line of the railroad, affordi and cheaper freight. The comp realize largely from the investm mining is much cheaper than cru ly give larger return for the montd The Silver Mines of Nevada c and important source of the weal But ten years have elapsed (scar this kind of ninirg) since the mines, and the yield is greater at any other country-Mexico not e Many desire to know the mee mine. A person supposing he hia I i i t i I I i i I I if'i ,i i I i i ii I I I i i 373 II I i I i i j i I i i i i i i i iI ii I iscovery, o t ese i this time than of I I xcepted. I tbo.d of securing-a s discovered a lead, i I Ii I I I I | 34 4 BEYOND THE WEST. sinks what is termed a prospecthole upon it; writes a notice setting forth the fact, that the individuals whose naimnes are signed to the notice, claims a certain llumber of feet on the ledge (giving it some name) in either direction from the prospect, and within ten days thereafter gets the notice recorded. by the Recorder of Claims of the Mining District, together with a description of the lead, and where and how located. This is the primary source of title to all mines, and answers the same purpose as our deeds of real estate-can be transferred only by recorded deeds, properly acknowledged before a competent officer. The mining laws of all districts give thle locator of a lead fifty feet of land on either side of his ciaimrn, for the purpose of erecting machinery if lie wishes, and to do general work upon it. Most districts require the owner of a lead to do a specified amount of labor onl his claim per month, or forfeit it; where others can, as it is termed, "jump it." I i I I II I I I I I i iI I I i I I I I i I i i II I f iI i I . iI i t: I'i i i ii . i i I i I I CHAPTER XXXVI. JOURNEY TO THE HOT SPRINGS. We left the Overland Stage road at Cold Spring station and started for a journey to the Sink of the Humboldt, distant one hundred and twenty miles to the northward. Our road conducted us over a very dry, forbidding region, of which Nevada has so much; a sand and rocky desert all the way. Nothing could be seen of vegetable growth but the ubiquitous sage, and that only at long distances. The first half day we traveled twenty-four miles, to Indian Spring, where we found a small quantity of watei', as if trying to hide itself away in a little pool at the foot of a mountain. No more than enough could be had at a time than to supply a team and a couple of men. Here was our dining hotel, the traveler's very hospitable home. We were the onr)ly proprietors for the time. A little dry fuel was soon collected, coffee boiled, bacon in the f'rying-paii, and bread on hand. The table-cloth (a newspaper) was laid for two, and we sat down upon the table which nature furnished, to rather a young feast, when we consider the poverty stricken country. Somewhat rested, and our horses recruited with a few L_ I I I I I i I i i I I I i I i I i i i I tI i I I .i I i I I i I I I BEYOND THE WEST. blades of alkali grass about the spring, bult with more barley, with which we had supplied ourselves at twelve cents per pound, coin, we resumed our journey and traveled twenty miles to the Hiot Springs, and camped for the night. The traveler's heart re joices when he comes to one of these life-giving places, nearly famished with heat and thirst. No one can appreciate the suffering to people and animals which often occurs while traveling over portions of this country in summer. We stop on the way to examine a salt marsh, of which the State has several. This is the largest and the purest salt. Here, in a basin, between the mountain ranges, is about ten acres, covered with coarse salt-quite a good article-nature's salt works. Planks are laid down, and men, with wheelbarrows, shovel it up where found the thickest and the best, and wheel it out where wagons can take on a load. It is put in coarse sacks of a hundred pounds or more each, and sent off for family use and for quartz mills, as but little ore can be successfully treated without it. Very much of the quartz miining would be a failure were it not that this indispensable article is found largely in this mining part of the continent. Freighters were here loading for the distant mines of Idaho and Montana. Large quantities are carted over the country friom here in i - - I I -.......... I -. I I i I I I I I ii I l 37(i I i I i i II i i iI i I I I i i I I I I I I I I i i i i i i i i I JOURNEY TO THE HOT SPRINGS. all directions. Where salt is removed from the bed brine again fills the place, and in a few days, during the summer, evaporation is so great that salt is soon formed as before, ready to be removed again. For the purpose of saying all that we design to on this subject here, we will digress, and i)trodnce you to a mountain of salt about two hundred and thirty miles from here, in the southern part of Nevada. It is between four and five miles in length and nearly six hundred feet in hight, with an un known depth. It is pure and crystaline, and does not deliquesce on being exposed to the atmosphere, but is more like rock, requiring blasting to remove it from the very solid mass, whence it is taken in large blocks, and is as transparent as so mutch glass. The world could be supplied from here if it could be transported; but it is a long way inland-located in a wilderness-an object for the admiration of the traveler and the inspection of the scientific. There is but one other known place on the globe where salt is found in such a state of purity in quantity, and that is in Poland. Should any of my readers desire to see a specimen of it, they can do so by calling on me. But to return to the Hot Springs. There is about a dozen of these (aldrons filled with water, but not I I f I I .II II i I i i Ii 11 ,1 i 11 i1 ii ;I iii I, I I! . ii I tI i ii i .i I I i i i i i i III I iI 1i i .I I I . I I - L-. BEYOND THE WEST. run nrlg over. In one we found water cool enough to drink; another tepid, in which we had a delicious renovating bath; another moderately hot, but not scalding to hold the hand into it. Others were so hot that we tied some meat to a string and boiled it ii) a very short time. There being no soi1 of Vulcan present, and one of our wagon tires was in a favorable way to come off, we attached a rope to it, and also gave the wheel a good boiling, which answered us as well as a blacksmith for the journev. Washerwomen would have no trouble to supply themselves with ready water here to do a very big washing, and men would not be driven so far away froIn home as they sometimes are on that ever to be remembered day. These springs vary in width from five to thirty feet in diameter. Some are shallow; others no doubt are very deep, being supplied far down in the earth. We spread our blankets amongst the boiling pools and had a delightful sleep. The steam and gas arising, together with the warm earth, warmed the air and invited repose. It was unusually interesting at early morning to observe the ascending columns of steam which at that time arose in clouds to a great bight as the day seemed to kindle behind the eastern mountains, andi as the sun ascended over I I i I I I I i I i i i I I I I I I i I I i i i I 378 I I I i I i I I I i i I JOUL'NEY TO THE HOT SPRINGS. them they appeared to rise from beds of flame and to put sheets of fire upon their majestic wrial heads. We continue on over the country where universal desolation was stamped upon all around. It would almost seem in some places that nature herself had quite expired, so remarkable was the sterility and dreariness. A hot, yellow haze hung upon distant objects, while a sort of dazzling, glittering heat seemed to surround everything near at hand. Some of the road was too dreary to be spoken of-yellow sand, with a few rocks rising above the plain, with an occasional cluster of artemisia. The bitter imprecations of manya maddened and almost frenzied emigrant were poured out with startling energy and emphasis upon this treache.rous portion of the country, as many thousands of the bones of their poor animals were scattered all across this forty miles of burning sun, waterless, alkali, Humboldt Flat. I found no place on the Overland Route where the emigrant had left so much along the way to remind one of these plains of death to their animals, and a consequent loss of other propertyv, when "Hopes and fears in more than equal balance laid,' while they toiled on amid great suffering. We traveled some distance along this old emigrant road and then turned south to Humboldt River, then I I I ,.I i I i I I I I i 379 BEYOND THE WEST. followed it down to near the Sink and crossed over to the Carson River, (named after the celebrated Carson, guide and mountain man,) passed round to the south side of the Sink and returned to the stage road again. These two great rivers, flowing eastward from the Sierras, form a large lake on the desert called the Sink, as they are both lost in this, their reservoir. The railroad runs on the south side of it, and the country has been considerably taken up, and is beginning to be' settled by an agricultural people, as the lake furnishes irrigating facilities, and the country for some distance is favorably located for the business. It was supposed by the first settlers of Nevada that The country must be infinitely rich in minerals, because worthless for anything else; but experience has proven that the many before desert valleys have large agricultural capacity by the introduction of water, and the State will become self-supporting, but her leading interest will be silver mining. Carson City, the capital of the State, is pleasantly located in Carson Valley, sixteen miles from Virginia, under the shadow of the Sierras. Carson Valley is the largest and most productive farming region of the State, and is now capable of supporting a large population and supplying other sections to some extent. iI I I i I I I I I I i - I I . II I i I II 380 .i I I I I I i i I I i I I i JOUPRNEY TO THE HOT SPRINGS. Nevada is prolific in hot springs. One near Virginia, a mile long, following the course of a little brook, has sulphur water boiling under ground, breaking through in some places and throwing up jets of waer and steam. At one place a fountain rises from the ground several feet high, making a sound like a high-pressure steamer; consequently all the waters are named the "Steamboat Springs." The water is similar to the Sulphur Springs at Salt Lake, possesses curative virtue, and is quite efficacious in rheumatism. The Indians reverence these springs. They believe that the Great Spirit troubles the waters by breathing in them, and they make propitiatory ofrirings to this supposed invisible deity. I I I I II I I I II i i.1 i I I i i II i I i iII i i t i t 381 I t i i I I I Ii I I CHAPTER XXXVII. SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS-LAKE TAHOE-DONNER LAKE-SUFFERING OF EiMIGRANTS-SACRAMENTO. After having been so long on the interior desert plains and forbidding mountains, from majestic forests and nature's growing beauties, we confronted with renewed pleasure in the ride up the mountains a succession of delights and pleasures, thirteen miles from Carson to Lake Tahoe. The surging of the Pacific breeze through the massive trees of magnificent size and beautiful form, the ".AXolean Harp" of the mighty forest, came like sweet music laden with recollections of home and friends. The air was sweet with fresh perfumes, the eye beheld green valleys, and feasted on new mountains of rock and lower hills covered with dense evergreens, when we arrived at the Glenbrook House, beside the most beautiful sheet of water (as some have said) in the United States. Tahoe is said to be the highest lake on the globe, navigated by a steamboat, (a little pleasure steamer for the use of guests of the house) as it is already becoming a pleasure resort of Californians in sum. mer. The cool, healthful air, magnificent scenery, I "' " i i I i i iI I i i I ii I i I i i I i i I i I i I I i .I i I II i i i i I i I I LAKE TAHOE. 1, SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS. together with an unlimited supply of delicious laike trout, make the place one of pleasure and health. Thie lake is twenty-four miles long, and is from twelve to fifteen wide, and six thousand two hundred and eighteen feet above the sea; walled in by mountain ranges thousands of feet high, with peaks standing as sentinels, reflecting their majestic greatness in the transparent water. It seemrns as crystaline as if' the water were air. Substances of a small size can be seen with distinctness on the bottom at a depth of a hundred feet. In places it has been found to be sixteen hundred feet deep. The irriegular line dividing the green of the shallow waters f'ar)i tle blue of the depths is clearly marked. Thie shores are mostly covered by shining black sand. The line crosses the lake, dividing the Gold(len and the Silver State, and is a place of unsurpasse(d magnificence and beauty, only fifteen miles from the railroad, which makes it quite accessible for those wishing to visitit. No one who can will regre-t seeing this brightest jewel in the mountain co, onet There are several small lakes in the mountains about here which ale not less than seven thousan(i feet above the ocean). Lake Comio is oI)e literally amongst the tops of the mountains, fourteen in miles long and nine miles wi(ne, and walled in by volcanic debris. I I i I I I I i i ;1i i i ii I I i ii i i iI'i : i Ii iI i i i t: I i 1 i i i i i 'i)' 8 3 i I I I i i i I iI i i i BEYOND HDE WEST As the traveler now on the Sierra Nevada looks fromn the swiftly moving, pleasure.giving cars, he will see a beautiful little lake on the north side of the track, about sixteen hundred feet below him, serene, blue and beautiful, five miles long by one wide. It is " Donner Lake." Here, nearly twentyone years ago, an emigrant train of fifty men and thirty women and children, encamped on the shore of this lake late in the fall, under the leadership of a man by the name of Donner. A very heavy fall of snow, said to have been twenty feet in depth, shut them in the canyon and prevented their advance or retreat. As their cattle died they ate them to the very last piece of their hide. Then starvation came upon them with maddening power; they could scarcely wait for one of their unfortunate number to die before the body was consumed. From cabin to cabin exchanges of parts of the human body were made, and a return to be given when the next one died. I was informed that one of the women is now living who ate her own husband. For the benefit of the believer and the unbeliever in dreams, we give the following: During this time, as we are told, there lived near San Francisco an old hunter. He dreamed that there was such an emigrant party starving and dNy — i i i I i iI i I t I I i I II 384 I I:. I I SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS. i,g in the mountains. So firmly was he impressed with the dream, that next day he went twenty odd miles to see another old hunter. In describing his dream, he pictured the place so plainly that the hunter recognized it as being the place afterwards known as Donner's Lake. They organized a small party and started immediately, through the deep snows, and found the party-exactly according to the dream-and thirty out of the eighty were rescued, though some of them were badly frozen and crippled for life. During this terrible time they became so besotted, that when found, with parts of their undevoured friends around them, like wild animals that have once tasted human flesh, they had to be literally forced away from this kind of living, and most reluctantly took the food which their deliverers brought. It is said that one of them was found cooking human flesh, besmeared with its blood after he had been supplied. It was supposed he had committed murder in order to have one more feast. As we looked down from the beautiful cars, with every want supplied and every wish anticipated, upon that historic and picturesque spot in the summer, where these poor emigrants suffered all that humanity could suffer, and died in such a heart-sickening way, we could not release ourself from the sad im I I I I i I i i I I I I .1 I I f i I i t ii 385 i II i BEYOND THE WEST pression which this in,st terrible ileiiu in the history of those times -,made upOn the mind. Crossing the summit, we were atmonig bare, granite peaks of white, gray and brown. The minjestic Sierras rear their snrow-capped summits, where king winter holds his eternal court. Their long sides, furrowed with dark, deep canyons, through which bright-glowini)g rivulets leap down the abrupt mountain-sides, carrying to life and nature ill the plain below the tribute of that icy court above. They remind one of the beautiful conceit of the Spanish poet, that a brook is the laugh of the mountain. We pass along amid granite walls on the vast mountain sides, hundreds of feet above and below us, some places so upright that from the summit a stone could have been dropped hundreds of feet upon our heads; while we could look thousands of feet down the nearly perpendicular side below us. Among the many objects of grandeur and beauty which feasted our eyes as we passed down the Pacifice slope, through the most magnificent forest of pine, red-wood and firs in the world, we beheld fifteen hundred feet below us a silvery section of the American River, with delicious green grass sloping down to it on all sides, with the most perfect symmetry. As seen through the massive trees, it presented the rarest picture in a tree-frame of unrivaled ver I I I II t I I i I I I! i i I l I t t i I i i I i I i 1 1 i ii i I: i i i i i 1 1 1 386 i I I II i i I I i i i, I Ii i i iI 1 i I i i i, i i I i i ii i : i I I . i i I I i i i I i I i I i i SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS. dure. No part of our journeying over the Conti nent gave richer or greater variety of experience, more grand beauty of landscape, more extraordina, ry knowledge, more pleasure than over these remarkable mountain ranges. We pass the vast and lofty mountains; we are among the beautifully rounded foot-hills in the bewitching valleys that sleep beneath these lofty mountains, within whose dark recesses is earth's banking-house; within them are hidden the sleeping gold and silver, a mineral wealth which no one will presume to estimate. Already from them have been carried away millions of shining gold, which has entered all the avenues of trade, and brought independence to many a before poor home. But California may bid adieu to those who were lured to her by dreams of sudden fortune-to the golden days of the past-as she has built upon the sure foundations of exhaustless agricultural resources an empire to endure while there shall be seed time and harvest. The mountain streams. which a few years ago the gold hunter conducted among the lower hills to wash out grains of gold, are now applied to the parched earth, and give certain return in streams of wine and rich harvests. After our long travels over mountain and desert, these pleasant valley-homes, embowerod with trees, i I i I "a 8 7 BEYOND THE WEST. festooning vines and flowers, seemed more wonderfully beautiful than ever before. Another kind of beauty and wonder now feasted our eyes, among the western foot-hills of the Sierras-once more among life's common beauties and blessings-every-day comforts, where the symmetrical hills were clothed with a wealth of trees, shrubs and grass, sloped down to the mountain brook into the bottom of the valley, presenting landscape pictures of unrivaled extent and verdure. A few hours' ride on the iron-horse took us to Sacramento, the head of tide water, on the river of the same name, one hundred and twenty miles above its mouth. The sutmmit line of the Sierras from here is seventy-five miles east of the city; and in winter the snow-capped mountains can be seen for a distance, stretching two hundred miles from north to south. We had not lost sight of the snowy mountains, only at short intervals, for over a year, since we first saw them sixteen hundred miles back on the plains before reaching Denver. Sacramento is the Capital of the State, and the new State Buildings, which are now completed, are imposing, and do honor to the enterprising people of the Golden State. Although the city has been repeatedly nearly destroyed by conflagrations aind submerged by freshets-which hindered to some ex i ~_ i II I I I I I I I I I i i i I i ii i i i i 388 i I I i I I II I I i II i I I I II I I I SACRAMENTO. ?'.. I I SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS. tent the early growth of the place-yet the city went on increasing in wealth and population, so that now it is the second city on the Pacific coast. Levees now protect the city from overflow, like those of New Orleans, and the grade is mostly changed, to afford sure and permanent protection. The city is beautifully shaded, though quite warm in summer; is agreeable, and contains much to admire of wealth and culture; lures every visitor by its profusion of fruit, hanging with blushing cheeks under shelter of the trailing vines, while they pencil their summer romances up to and over the eaves of the houses. ifi: ' I I I iI I I I 1389 iI i i I II iI ,i, II I I I I I I CHAPTER XXXVIII. FLOWERS. We found no place West of the Missouri River, with such a wealth of blooming and luxuriant beau ty of flowers and trailing vines as Sacramento. The city is made attractive by the gratification which their presence affords. We had companionship with such a floral Eden no where else in all our travel as here. The place seems to be located where Nature is wonderfully lavish in her remarkable growth of life's pleasures and necessities. In our extended journeyings, occasionally would be found in little park openings on mountain sides near last year's snows, in valleys and on desert plains, a variety of wild flowers, many times on sandy wastes, where nothing else could grow but the wild sage. Yet, during the season of them, on the plains and in all the great interior mountain country, flower gardens quite beautiful may be seen in their isolation and simplicity, scattered among them in different stages of growth and decay, in June, July and August. In the mountains and parks of Colorado, we found a large variety of small flowers and roses, such as buiittercups, dandelions, larkspurs, hairbells, painter's I I i 1I 1 .I .I FLOWERS. brush and blue gentian, with their various companions of spring, summer and fall, improving every hour of sunshine in their brief lives. They looked as happy and emitted their little fragrance as freely, as though they were in the midst of civilization. Bltiue and yellow are the principal colors-several varieties of the former-round and trumpet-shaped blossoms pendant on stalks; again a similar-shaped flower still smaller; a little round flower in pink and white, known only here, and of a yellow hue. There are babies and grand-babies of the sun-flower family in every shade. Somne of these are about the size of a tea-saucer, with a centre stem of richest red, with deep yellow leaves hanging away from it-each color the very concentration of itself, as if dyed at tlhe original fountain head. We found the hair-bell at home everywhere, standing alone on the mountain sides, occasionally at an elevation of eleven or twelve hundred feet, as well as in the valleys and guarded parks, in its glory among all its rivals; but the fringed gentian is more particular-grows only in low, rich giound. The painter's brush, so called here, stands distinct on a single low stalk, about three inches in length, and one inch in thickness of flower or diameter in every shade of red, from deepest crimson to pale pink, and in straw colors from white to lemon. The most attractive I I i I i I I i i 391 I I i -i i I i 1, I i I III -I I II I -1 I I BEYOND THE WEST. flower I noticed in the Rocky Mountains, was colum bine, generous but delicate, of pure white, exquisite in form and coloring. The traveler will find amid the almost utter deso lation of desert and mountain over this country, nature's little gardens of floral beauty, the ground white, red and purple, pocket editions of poetry in velvet and gold, modestly turning up their beautiful little faces to the sun, which must fall silently and unobserved, in coming time as in the past. If my space permitted, I should be glad to give a full de scription of these many little beauties, for the bene fit of my flower-learned readers. High up on the mountains, where nothing can grow but the mosses, these are covered with a variety and richness of flowers, with white, blue and pink blossoms. - No large section of country can be found, even in these vast regions, so barren as not to have a flower. In the poorest portions would be sometimes found a wealth of flowers-the otherwise naked sand-gravel nearly carpeted in places with these little flowers, presenting their smiling faces to the scorching sun. This wealth of flowers has strength, but not coarse ne-s. The colors are more deep and delicate than those in our flower gardens; and, although frosts -nay freeze them every night on the mountains, yet -,- - - --- - I.. li I -.. 1... - .-.. -.. 1. 1. I I i I t 392 ,'I - I 11I iI i I II i i I i I i I i II I i I i i I t i I 1I I i iI i I I II i.I II.11 1 t i i I I II II i i WyL - FLOWERS. 39:j~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~\~~~~~~~~~~ the dryness of the air preserves them through the season, and they continue on growing and flowering until winter freezes them out. Many species of Cactus are found in Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona, which are quite beautiful when in flower. Ill the two latter places they groe very large, and horses sometimes get the sharp thorns in their ankles, and are ruined in consequence. But ir. California, they grow eight anid ten feet high-a wonderful size for the kind. There is also another plant found extensively through these same countries, known as the soapplant, grows very stout, and has a long tap-root, enabling it to grow in the dryest country; has wide, long, thick leaves, possesses soapy properties, and is used in the absence of the real article for washing purposes. Flowers abound in all directions in Portland. Acres of verbenas, geraniums, fuchsias, mignonette tube roses, coronations, superb lilies, and many othei kinds, together with English ivies overrunning house fronts, trumpet flowers and columbine, seem to cover everything. The houses were steeped in the fragrance of the roses and odorous vines that crawl in over every door and window sill. The city is a wealth of floral beauty seven months of the year. The profusion and intenseness of this i I i I I I I I i i i I i i i i i l, 1 I i i I I i i i iI i ili i i I FLOWERS. 3 9' i i i 1 1 ! i, I i i i I BEYOND THE WEST. flora] life seems not so much the adornments of the place as it is of Portland. But the cities of California and pleasant valley homes, embowered with trees, flowers and festooning vines, are more to be admired, more wonderfully beautiful than can be found elsewhere on this continent. Here the lemon verbena is a hot house plant; there it is a bush several feet high. Here you will see an oleander beautifying a parlor; there you will find hundreds of bunches in some yards in full blossom among what looks like showers of roses. No one can visit this sunset land without feeling the magic influence of flowers steal ing insensibly over him. "God might have bidden the earth bring forth Enough tor great and small, The oak tree and the cedar tree Without a flower at all. We might have had enough, enough For every want of ours, F'or luxury, medicine, and toil And yet have had no flowers. The ore within the mountain mine Requireth none to grow; Nor doth it need the lotus-flower To make the river flow. The clouds might give abundant rain, The nightly dews might fall, And the herb that giveth life to man Might yet have drunk them all. Then wherefore, wherefore were they made, All dyed with rainbow light: All fashioned with exquisite grace, Upspringing day and night: L - I I i I i i I I I 394 i i i i I I FLOWERS. Blooming in valleys green and low, And on the mountains high, And in the silent wilderness, Where no man passes by? Our outward life requires them not, Then wherefore had they birth? To minister delight to man, To beautify the earth: To comfort man-to whisper hope, Whene'er his faith is dim; For who so careth for the flowers Will much more care for him "' ,i I ;1, :11 :i t .i II i , I -I 395 CI:APTER XXXIX. MAMMOTH TREE GROVE. It is easy to doubt or disbelieve the traveler who describes objects which he has seen that are unlike our own experience; he may have been credulous and imposed upon, or wishing to make himself a hero, is tempted to exaggerate. I am now about to write of the most stupendous vegetable growth, and no doubt the oldest existing upon the globe, the truth of w'ich I hope will be tested hereafter by many of my readers. On our way over the mountains, through the very heavy forest, we stopped to measure some trees beside the road. The first and largest one we.,had seen measured eighteen feet in circumference, but as we passed on a few miles we came to one which measured twenty-two teet in circumference. Then we saw many more equally as large, whose bight was from two hundred and fifty to three hundred feet. These are the common sugar pines of the region, which became very celebrated on account of their remarkable growth, before the discovery of the "Big Trees" of Californlia ill 1852; a hunter havimg wounded a bear, which he followed to these most I I I i I I i i i i I i i I I ll I I i i i i i i i MAMMOTH TREE GROVE. 397 wonvrderful trees, then made it known. While he gazed in astor,shment his wounded bear escaped, and he returned to camp. His story was received with laughter and derision. But soon after, on another hunting excursion, he led several of his companions over mountains and through gorges, till they were among "the big trees," and were convinced of the truthfulness of their companion. No visitor of California should fail to see these trees. They have attracted pilgrims from the Old World, and their fame has already gone over the globe, and titled men and ladies have viewed them with wonder. There seems to be no convincing theory of their origin; century-looking minerets, towering up in grand unconsciousness, impressing the beholder with the feeling of a growth, long ago, of some other world. In fact there's nothing that keeps its youth, So far as I know, but a tree and truth." These sequoia gigantea are the world's patriarchs. Some botanists place their origin back (f human history. By counting the concentric circles in a tree, we found some of the largest trees to count three thousand, making them as many years old. No one can estimate the age of the largest at less than eighteen hundred years. Perhaps their youth I iII I i i I i I i I i I i i i 1 i I i i i i i i i iII i i i f BEYOND THE WEST. saw the humble carpenter of Judea, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, despised and rejected of men. On arriving at the trees you find a beautiful piece of moist, rich table-land four thousand five hundred feet above sea level, two thousand feet of which is made in the last few miles of the road. The grove is a place exceedingly beautiful-a grand old forest away from the world's highway, in the midst of the mountain tops of the Sierras, in central Calaveras county, is the most accessible, and the most beautiful of any of the big tree groves in California. From Stockton, at the head of steamboat navigation, it is in a staight line 70 miles to the trees; but by the stage road, through Copperopolis, 75 miles. This is the route taken from San Francisco and the Bay region to reach the grove. The traveler, on arriving at the Grove iHotel, will find himself surrounded with the comforts of a good traveler's home, which invites him to stop his wanderings for a time to receive the enjoyments this remarkable place presents. Many of these trees, perhaps a quarter in the grove, will measure twenty-five feet in diametervery many that are thirty feet, and I measured several that were thirty-three feet in diameter. Nearly in front of the hotel one of the largest trees was I I I II I i i I i i I i i i I i ii i i I i i I I II II i i II ii iI i I I I i i i ii i I 398 ... -- . - II ,- I.1..- - 11.1 - -.,- -. I... - i t,. I MAMMOTH TREE, 33 FT, DIAMETER, 450 FT. HIGH. Ql, i tI i8 MAMMOTH TREE GROVE.: (:)9 ,.y felled in 1854, which was perfectly sound the NNhole distance through, thirty-three feet. Five men worked twenty-five days with pump augers, before they could get it'down. The stump is five feet from the ground, has a house built over it, and easily accommodates four quadrille sets of dancers, musicians, and a few spectators at a time. Theatrical performances have been held upon it, and a few years ago a newspaper, The Big Tree Buletin, was printed there. Near the stump lies a section of the trunk twentyfive feet in diameter and twenty feet long, which you can mount only by wood steps, twenty-eight in number, and long ones too. About thirty feet of the trunk has been taken out to supply visitors with canes and other specimens of the wood. Beyond lies the immense trunk as it fell, measuring 302 feet from the base of the stump to its extremity. Upon this was situated a bar-room and ten-pin alley, stretching along its upper surface for a distance of eighty-one feet, affording ample space for two alley beds side by side. If you wish to get an idea of the diameter of this tree, measure off thirty-three feet, and see where there is a room as large as the diameter of that tree. About eighty feet fi om this stump stands the "Two Sentinels," each over 300 feet high, and the larger i i i i i II I i I I I I I i ' Ii i i i i I i i iI i I i i - i i i - i i i. i i i i i i I i I i 1I i BEYOND T'HE WEST twenty-three feet in diameter. The carriage road approaching the hotel passes directly between them. Starting from the hotel for the walk that visitors usually take, we soon came to the first cluster of tile sequoias, and were named respectively in 1865, U. S. Grant, W. T. Sherman and J. B. McPhersoti -after three leading Generals of the Union Army. A short distance from these is the "Pride of the Forest." It is eighteen feet in diameter and three hundred feet high-one of the healthiest and noblest trees in the forest. Near by stands "Phil Sheridan," a stout, graceful tree, three hundred feet high, and near this lies the "Miner's Cabin," which was blown down a few years ago by a terrific gale in 1860. It is three hundred and nineteen feet long and twenty-one and a half feet in diameter. About two hundred feet east of the "Miner's Cabin" brings us to the "Three Graces," a group of three trees close together, regarded by many as the most beautifill cluster in the grove. A little distance from these stands "Andrew Johnson," so named in the summer of 1865. Making this tree a central point of observations we have several magnificent trees within a short distance; one bearing the name of that Philanthropic English '1 1 Flrenct "1,gvtnT 1 " "1 aoh nm I,....-y I I I i i i i 4OU i I I i i i i i MAMMOTH TREE GROVE. State;" another named "W. H. Seward;" and also one named "W. C. Bryant," so named by a lady adrnmirer of that distinguished poet. Inr the center of the grove is a tree two hundred and eighty feet high, seventeen feet in diameter, singularly hollowed out by fire, and named "Pluto's Chimney." The "chimney" made by the fire exte ds from the ground ninety feet upwards. Near this tree is the "Quartette" cluster, the highest of which is two hundred and twenty feet; a few yards from these is a very healthy young tree two hundred and eighty feet high, named by a San Francisco lady, "America." Its constitution appears vigorous and healthy. It has been well named. Two large trees, one on the right, the other on the left of the path, nearly opposite, are" California" and "Broderick." The next tree is " Henry Ward Beecher," two hundred and eighty feet high and fourteen feet in diameter. A few steps farther brings us to the "Fallen MAonarch,".which has to all appearances been down for centuries. It is still eighteen feet in diameter, though much of the wood has been washed away by time. What is left is sound. But the upper half or two-thirds, which struck the earth with greeat force in its fall, has all disappeared, and trees a century old are growing where it struck. This tree I i I I I i i i i i I I I I i I" I I I I I I i i I .0 401 I II i i I i I Ii2EYNTHWET muthv enoeihe ude ethg n twnyfv eti imtr . I II I I I II i I I t 1, I i I I I I iI II i i i I MAMMOTH TREE GROVE. ed base of the "Father of the Forest," the scene is grand and beautiful. The Father long since laid his body on the ground. Yet, stupendous in his ruin, he measures one hundred and twelve feet in circumference at the base, and can be traced three hundred feet. Where the trunk was broken by falling against another tree, it here measures sixteen feet in diameter, and according to the average taper of the other trees, must have been four hundred and fifty feet in hight when standing. A hollow cavity extends through the trunk two hundred feet-large enough for a person to ride through on horseback! Walking upon the trunk, and looking from its uprooted base, the mind can hardly conceive its dimensions; while on either side tower his giant sons and daughters, forming the most impressive scene in the forest. Next we come to a cluster of three trees, named "Starr King," "Richard Cobden" and John Bright." "Starr King" is the highest standing tree in the grove, three hundred and sixty-six feet. "Daniel O'Connell" and "Edward Everett" stand next. They are young trees, eight or nine hundred years old, and very vigorous. Near the "Father" are "James King," of William. "Keystone State," "Sir John Franklin," "Dr. Kane," and the "Century," so named after the "Century 40'a I BEYOND THE WEST Club," of New York, of which Bryant is President. Close to these stand three of the largest size trees, the "Keystone," "Lafayette" and "F. F. Low." "Hercules" stretches his huge body across the path. This was the largest tree standing in the grove until'62, when during a severe storm it fell. It is three hundred and twenty-five feet long and ninety-nine feet in circumference. When standing, this tree leaned about sixty feet from perpendicular. Most all of them have nearly a perfect equilibrium. "Joseph Hooker," "Humboldt," and some smaller trees, stand together on the slope of the hill, near 'the broken top of "Hercules." Not far from these lies the "Old Maid," which fell towards her friend, the "Old Bachelor," in 1865, badly broken to pieces, while he looks as healthy and unconcerned as though no misfortune had befallen his friend. The "Siamese Twins," "Daniel Webster," "Granite State," "Old Republican,"" Henry Clay," "Andrew Johnson," " Vermont,': " Empire State," "Old Dominion," "George Washingtonu.' and "Uncle Tom's Cabin," are all first class trees, from twenty to thirty feet in diameter, and from two hundred and fifty to three hundred and twenty.five feet in hight. All the trees named have a small slab of white maible, with the name engraven thereon, fastened to the truiJk about twenty feet from t be roiit rd. t I i I I 404 i i. I I i I I ;I i i i i i i i I .I MAMMOTH TREE GROVE. In this grove observation will detect a number of young trees, say from ten to three hundred years old, and from forty to two hundred feet high. They are growing finely and promise, barring accidents of wind and fire, to be well brought up middle-aged trees of their kind, in about a thousand or fifteen hundred years. Many of these trees have been badly injured by the Indians building their fires against them in former years. We are indignant at the stupidity which could see nothing in those trees but a big back-log for their fires. These trees are the only living monu connect us with olden time. Perhaps Rome was planted on the hills, certainly ] any man imagined this Continent, thes trees were lifting their noble forms in the mountain solitudes, to be ready for eyes appreciate them in the Nineteenth Centu "These giant trees, in silent majesty, Like pillars stand'neath heaven's mighty doe 'Twould seem that, perched upon their topme With outstretched finger, man might touch th Yet, could he gain that hight, the boundless s Were still as far beyond his utmost reach As from the burrowing toilers in a mine; Their age unknown, into what depths of time Might Fancy wander sportively, and deem Some monarch father of this grove set forth His tiny shoot, when the primeval flood Receded from the old and changed earth. If I I I I i i I i -iiI I I I 11I i i I - i ii 1 i i i iI i ii II i i i I i I i Ii. I i 405 I I I I i I i i i i iI i I i I iI iI I II iI I i . iI i I I I I i I II BEYOND THE WEST. Perhaps, coeval with Assyrian kings, His branches in dominion spread! From age To age his sappling heirs with empires grew, When Time those patriarch's leafy tresses strewed Upon the earth; when Art and Science slept, And ruthless hordes drove back Improvement's stream, Their sturdy head-tops throve, and in their turn Bose when Columbus gave to Spain a world. How many races, savage and refined, Have dwelt beneath their shelter! Who shall say? (If hands irreverent molest them not.) But they may shadow mighty cities, reared E'en at their roots, in centuries to come, Till with the everlasting hills they bow When time shall be no longer." Never before had we seen long centuries of timE stamped upon trees; never before did we so fully appreciate such forms of greatness, and grandeur that humbles; never before had we stood beside living age, so wonderfully embodied. One feels as though he expected to see the mighty Power that has upheld these wonders visible upon them. I would advise all travelers who are in San Francisco, or have an opportunity to send for them. to procure somne photographs of the Big Trees. Thiey will, on your possessing them, become a source of much el)joyment. I I I i i i I I I i I I i -406 t I I I I i, i II I11 I i I i CHAPTER XL. YOSEMITE VALLEY. Leave the city of San Francisco in the evening oat for Stockton, a beautiful sail while it is day nd you are on deck, and arrive at Stockton at six 'clock next morning. Fxom here there are tvwo outes to the valley by stage-one to the north to he Caleveras big tree grove, and the other more to he south. But I am at Mr. Perry's comfortable otel, among the giant trees, and leave in the mornmg and go to " Murphy's Camp;" dine and press on, rossing the rapid Stonislous River and remarkable mountain gorges to Sonora, amid the amazing relics of the miners. Remaining here over night, in the morning pass on through the " Chinese Camp," cross Tuolumne River, ascend and descend mountains, till you arrive at Harding's Ranch, where you must take he saddle. Now get the best horse you can, and with a guide start off, with good courage, for an unusual hard lay's ride in the saddle. We have a hard-riding, but very sure-footed animal, when we leave the world's hard-trodden highway and enter the forests, ame-,nd vast mountains, go through gorges and down I i I i I i i I I I I. I I I I PA A BEYOND THE WEST. long ridges, admire myriads of the most beautiful trees the eye ever saw, pass over leads of snow on the highest mountains for miles, (in mid-summer,) then perhaps through parks of Nature's planting. We move on, seldom faster than a walk, till we have had twenty-five long, weary miles' ride, when we look down from the summit of the mountain-three thousand feet into a valley-which is four thousand and seventy-five feet above the sea. About two hundred miles easterly from San Fran. cisco, and not far from the summit of the snowcapped Nevada Mountains, are some of the most remarkable depressions, gorges and canyons ever found. While we are looking down the most wonderful one of them all, we pause, admire, and hold our breath. The place is so unlike any other in matchless grandeur, that we feel the pulse-beatings of Omnipotent power. We are looking east, and at our right hand is an opening through immense perpendicular walls, only wide enough for a foaming river to dash out. The canyon looks as if the great mountains had just opened to let the river through, and you almost expect to see them come together again. Very high up, between the rock walls over the valley, is suspended in mid-air the thinnest possible veil of mist caused by the falling waters. This is "Yosemite Valley." I I I ii i I I I .i I I I I i I I I I I I I I I i I I I 408 i I I I I. i i i i i I I I I 131G TRE GROU.~~~~~~~~~~~ I I FOOT OF TRAIl, YO-SEMIFE. -j XI,~ 1,/ YOSEMITE VALLEY. We begin to descend; the hill is so steep that the path must be zigzag, and so fearful to unsteady nerves that you must walk the most of the distance. Sometimes the path crosses a mountain stream, furiously dashing along its rock-worn channel, now on the very brink of frightful precipices, where. should a single misstep be made out of the way on the precipitous side, one would full, in some places, two thousand feet before stopping. We have now come down three thousand feet in two and a half miles, over numberless loose rocks and ledges and turbulent water, (where the faithful horse's legs ought to be well insured,) to tLe bottom of the valley, about eight miles long, and from a half to one mile wide, with a crystal river, the "Merced," (daughter of the eternal snows farther east,) from fifty to seventy feet wide, and from eight to twelve feet deep, and falling some fifty feet during its passage in the valley. No adequate description of the place can be given, such as will give you a correct idea of its unsurpassed wonders of admiration. Like some few remarkable places in nature, it must be seen to be appreciated. Imagine yourself in a canyon, inaccessible save at one place, with massive perpendicular walls lifted up a mile high, eight miles long and half a mile wide, and you have a basin a mile deep, while the I I I I -1 I I I i I I I I IIi i I 409 I I i i iiI i. iIi I II i i! ii Ii i I I 1 i 11 il i i i i I I I i I I 0 BEYOND THE WEST. country outside of these nature-rmasoned walls is at least a mile higher. This rocky basin has been slowly assuming its present form for many long centuries past. Some miles east of the head of the basin lie the great mountain ranges, where snows annually fall and melt. The waters wear a channel till they find the head of this, their reservoir, and then dash themselves down into it. Also other rivers (there are no creeks in this country as with us) are formed, push away the barriers and leap headlong into the basin. The rains and the frosts assist the many streams to wear away the rocks on all sides, till the hardest portions are left perpendicular or rounded over into polished domes, or standing in spires, like those of an old cathedral. The debris of the rocks washes down in the course of time, and forms piles from two to four hundred feet high, and making a soil at the bottom of the basin. Thus it is gradually filled up, the river is raised, trees and grass grow, and so we Dow find it-the walled picturesque valley-whose sides are all rock, which, we are told, that if these rocks should fall together at the same moment and come together in the middle, there would be an arch over the valley a half a mile high; but who can realize it? There is nothing but the dome of heaven by which to make comparison. I I i I 'I i i I I I I I i II i I I 410 I II I BRIDAL VAIL FALLS. I!-,. I YOSEMITE VALLEY. Should you look at the trees, two hundred feet high,-, they look like shrubs. We have no means by which to measure distance. to tell one thousand feet from three thousand feet. We feel a disappointment that things in the valley appear small when they are of unusual size. We are now in the western end of the valley going east, the waters of the river meeting us. We find, as we move up tle valley, ten high summits on the sides, quite prominent, peculiar and dissimilar. We also find several large streams dashing down in different places, and smaller ones, that come down like satin ribbons. It is July, when the snows are rapidly melting, the streams falling, and the falls the grandest of the year. The first one we come to is "Tall and Slender Fall," which first creeps, then rushes down the face of rocks three thousand three hundred feet. We gaze at the ribbon on the rock, then the stream we cross, and are surprised at the amount of water coming down ii) that little stream. As we go on up the valley we behold a might) pyramid rising up on our left-the "Great Chief of the Valley"'-three thousand three hundred feet high, top-fiat and naked. We stand at its base and gaze upon it, perpendicular for tw,, thousand feet, fetling that the great mass is ready to fall upon us I 411 6 BEYOND THE WEST. but it is so solid and hard that you soon feel, however, that it might be the corner-stone of a world. Nearly opposite, on the south side of the valley, is "Bridal Vail," a most exquisitely beautiful sheet of water, falling nine hundred and fifty feet, dashing and foaming, throwing out showers of snowy rockets as it falls into its great rocky caldron; properly called the "Bridal Vail," from its flowing, featherygauze-like covering, as though trying to conceal the blushing face and form of beauty. The stream is large, and out of the much spray that is caused by dashing down upon the boulders the sun weaves and hangs over the abyss the most beautiful rainbows. A little distance from here are the "Three Graces," large masses of rocks standing far up into the clouds, and farther on are the "Cathedral Spires," which, at so great a distance. look not much larger than men, but they are hundreds of feet high. Next come the great " Cathedral Rocks," having the appearance of round watch towers of some vast building. Passing on we come to the "Three Brothers," three mountain summits, very remarkable, which are not easily described, but when seen will never be I I' I I I i i I I I i I I I -—, I I 112 I I i I I A .t YO-SEMITE FALLS. Il i i. YOSEMITE VALLEY. f)rgotten. On the opposite side of the valley are tie "Three Sisters," most graceful in beauty, a. i chiseled by human hands. We are now in the ceutre of the valley going east * On our left are Yosemite Falls, divided into three falls-the first, sixteen hundred and fifty feet perpendicular; the second four hundred and fifty, aI)d the third six hundred and forty feet. Yo Sem-i-te is thel Indian name now given to the valley, and means Grizzly Bear. Opposite these falls is "Sentinel Rock," three thousand two hundred and seventy five feet high. At the base of this wonderful rock, is " Heeching's Hotel," where all who visit here must stay, and where All will be made comfortable and happy with such a host and hostess in such a place. Here you hear, day and night, the roar of the greatest waterfall in the world, as to distance. We get up at night to admire and never get weary contemplating its mnagnificence. I was told that in winter the spray freezes and piles up till there is a hollow pillar hundreds of feet high, which, when the spring floods come, struggles with giant power fo;r a time, but soon loses its stronghold, the ice mountains give way, and falls into fragments, when the cataract begins again its thundering song for another year. This foaming river, pouring down the first falls nine times higher I I I i I I I 413 I I I I I I I I BEYOND THE WEST. ms to the eye from the bottom of ot more than two f,ur wide at the o be over forty feet. The river bridge is forty feet wide and over we go up towards the head, the o two canyons, through which the he Merced run, uniting at the foot which has the appearance of pushey between them. right hand canyon, following up along its boiling, leaping water, till rnal Falls," where the spray soon e skin, while the most beautiful lithovering and playing around us. ot of the falls, two thousand feet re we entered the valley These the largest of all as to quantity of sing over three hundred and fifty ire ascended by a mysterious looked to the perpendicular side of the e appearance of hanging in the air. es of steel, you may go up safely yourself on courage, otherwise you dertake it. the river half a mile to "Nevada dred feet high, the most beautiful beheld. It unites the power and adt b CoDgra tulate :had better not un We now go up Falls," seven hun, waterfall I ever 1 i i i II i 414 i I 1i 1 1 i I i I I i i iII I i i I i i. i i i i Ii I I i i I II I i i I f I SOUTH DOME. I, YOSEMITE VALLEY. majesty of Niagara with much more outline of beauty. I am quite sure that it cannot be equaled on the face of the globe for marvelous beauty. In the opposite canyon is another fall, six hundred feet, which anywhere else would be celebrated for its magnificence and beauty. There are several more lofty "summits" not mentioned, such as" Cap of Liberty," "Mount Starr King," and "North and South Domes." The "North Dome" is three thousand seven hundred feet high. Near it stands Washington's Column, strong and lofty. The South Dome is the most remarkable-was once, no doubt, the shape of an egg, the big end up-and by some convulsion of Nature, this solid rock was split in two-one-half left standing nearly perpendicular, four thousand five hundred and eighty feet, nearly a mile high. The other half was, no doubt, dashed down to the bottom of the canyon, now buried out of sight, but damming the river and making the beautiful little lake we now find-the transparent waters of which are Nature's mirror, reflecting with an accuracy and beauty these remarkable mountains which can hardly be excelled. It is properly named "Mirror Lake," and is much admired. Early in the morning a thin haze covers the valley, and slowly moves up the mountain sides, as the I i I I I I i I iI1 i I I 415 f i i Ii I i I i i I I I . i BEYOND THE WEST. streams of the brilliant sunlight from an unclouded sky come pouring through the openings in the moun tain tops, illuminating long belts of mists which ex tend across the valley, and are lost among the rocks and foliage. Numberless little white clouds are sep arated from the misty curtain-are creeping up the mountain side among the projecting spurs-each fol lowing the other in their upward flight, and each eaten up by the sun with astonishing rapidity, as they pass above the shadow cast across the lower half of the valley. But as the sun slowly rises, the valley is filled with a peculiarly cool, gray hazemuch like our Indian Summer haze "doubly refined." There are interspersed among meadows of rich green grass in various portions of the valley, groves of trees of immense size and wonderful picturesqueness, not showing in any place the mark of an axe, or anything to alter this valley from what it was when the eye of man first looked into it. Wherever we are, we can't but feel and realize that we are in a strange region, wholly unlike any other place, in grandeur, sublimity and beauty-the sublimest page in all the great book of Nature-the most remarkable specimens of the stupendous masonry of Nature on the globe. By an act of Congress, this valley has been taken from the public domain for a National Park, and ced I I I I I i ii I i i I -. i i 416 i I I I i i Ii i I iI i I I I II 1 II .1i i I I I II i ii i ii I i II i I I I II i I i i I I I i i I I iI ii i I I PONO INDIAN POUNDING ACORNS. ~'.!. I I YOSEMITE VALLEY. ed to the State of California, on condition that it be kept as such. As it now is, Nature is everywhere, and Art nowhere. Here I saw the Pono Indians, the simple children as of told, with their bows, and arrows with flint heads; their food mostly acorns pounded in a rock hollowed out perhaps centul ies ago for the same purpose; their furniture willow baskets; cooking by heating stones, and throwing them when heated into the water; their faces tattooed and painted, and their enjoyments nothing above those of the animal. I hope the time will never come when Art will be sent here to improve Nature. This marvelous place invites every one who possibly can to admire its surrounding cascades and mountain peaks; its beautiful sheets of water, falling thousands of feet unbroken; its projecting rocks, columns of yellow granite into the valley rising perpendicularly thousands of feet. Imagination fondly stops to trace the unwritten, undescribed, wild grandeur of that remarkably interesting valley. Future generations shall tune their song to the music of thy waterfalls, and catch anew the inspiration of early time in the refreshing shades of thy romantic groves amid the wonderful Nature. Every one while visiting California, who possi,ly can, should see this place. No one will regret the expense and fatigue in order to do it. Having once p I i i i I 1 4 ... ', -,...-, ,,, ,." 417 iI i i ii I i i I 1i II iI I. i i I i I I I i i II i I i i I i I i i. i i i I I I i I I i I i i !I , I I i i I I c ---- -- BEYOND THE WEST. seen this hiding retreat in the great mountains-one of the very few wonders of the world, and by no means the least-it will be a "joy forever."' I would recommend that you take time enough. The interest increases with each successive contemplation, and you will most certainly desire to go again. ; I i t 418 4 CHAPTER XLI. A VISIT TO THE GEYSERS. The journey to and from the big trees and Yose mite is the hardest one the traveler in California is called upon to make, but will give you pleasure, sat isfaction and peace of mind the rest of your life. We return to San Francisco, and after resting a few days make a hasty excursion to the Geysers. We take the steamboat, pass over the bay, take the cars, through the productive and beautiful Napa Valley, and stop at Calistoga, a beautiful town, with environed cottages, surrounded by various springs, some boiling hot, others of various degrees of heat, and a number of sulphur springs. We took an early ride next morning of twenty miles to the base of a great mountain, "Foss Station," so named after its owner-no small institution himtelf. He is an uneducated New Englander, enlowed with qualities which makes him a marked man. But he harnesses his six horse team to an open wagon, and we are off, winding our way up the mountain five thousand feet high, till we come to a ridge nearly two miles long and perfectly straight, just possilily wide enough to let the wagon run on I ii BEYOND a IE WEST, its edge, though to see it ahead looks as if we were riding on an earth-collared rail, appropriately called the " Camel's Back." Down this ridge the horses dash at break neck speed. Should the wheels vary a foot either side, we would go down several hundred feet among the rocks. But stage-driving in this country is truly a science, and over it we pass, and are to descend nearly two thousand feet in two miles, to the canyon below. The horses dash down upon the quickest gait, and after making thirty-five short turns, a failure at any one of which would have cost us our lives, we are just eleven minutes in coming down to the bottom. Such rapid driving down such a road causes one to hold his breath and throb with excitement, thinking that whoever takes it hereafter must be a fool or crazy. We are now in a deep canyon, on either side of which the majestic mountains rise three thousand feet and over. No mountains can exceed their symmetrical beauty. A large trout stream runs through the canyon, clear, cold and beautiful. We cross this brook at right angles and enter another canyon, which is the home of the Geysers. The Geysers were originally discovered in Iceland, and the word is Icelandic, meaning driving, urgent; because a Geyser is ever throwing up water or mud and wa I I i I I 1, I i Il il I I 420 i t I I i i i I i i i I i i i i I i i i i ~~~-7"~; 4 GEYSERt SPRINGS H-OTE~L. ,r,,.,'. . I A VISIT TO THE GEYSERS. ter. We at once realize that we are ix region; the earth burns our feet, and th suffocates us. The surrounding atmosph with the fumes of sulphur, nitric acid, al unpleasant smells you can imagine. A feet a stream of alum boils out, but a fe f that perhaps is another of nitric acid, or of salts, or soda, or pure sulphur, or sul or ammonia. A little distance off is a deep caldron, i boiling a fluid dark as ink. It is ap called the "Devil's Inkstand." I made the time with that ink, and have used it as it was taken from the manufactory. enough to be patented, as compared other kinds. Near this is the " Witches quite large, demon-like, black, boiling, spouting. It is said to be fathomless. Next we come to the "Steamboat," w spouts and roars high in the air, like let steam when a large steamboat stops.. tance from this is the "Devil's Tea-ket the steam intervals, and where, as if g confinemept, you almost expect to see th spirits of the Evil One come forth next. to be standing on the threshold of the i gions. Thrust a stick in the ground any team will rush out. Lm -__ I I ii I I I II i iII 11 421 I i i i i i t I i I i i I - i One seems i i infernal re- i i i where and i ,i i I iI ii I i i BEYOND THE WEST. We can compare the place to nothing. more appropriate than the very worst description of hell. It is known as the "Pluton Canyon.' The steam, the heat and the offensive smell of the chemicals soon makes your head growdizzy, and feel a shortness of breath, and you must hasten away or it would kill you. From what I had learned before my visit to the Geysers. I had supposed they were of volcanic origin, and that the wonderful heat was caused by fire, perhaps, far down in the earth, and that they were vents, or safety valves, for the internal fires. On examination, I was soon convinced that my opinions were not well founded, but were all wrong; that they are not at all volcanic, but Nature's great chemiical laboratory. We four(nd here quantities of iron, causing the inky water, alum, ammonia, nitric acid, sulphuri, acid, sulphur, epsom salts, and acid water of various kinds. Onte, wheii sweetened, makes good lemonade. Auother spring is said to be remarkable in its goo] effects as an eye water. Somre of these springs have an urrnusual degree of hleat-from a hundred and fifty to two hundred degrees by the thermometer. Fill these vast mountain depths with these several chemicals, and let down thle water upon them, and the pheniomena which is f)und here will be produced. I I i I I I I II I. I i I 422 'I i I I i i I i i 1. I i I WITCH'S CALDRON-GEYSERS. I-.. VISIT TO THE GEYSERS. The whole region is a subterranean treasury.of chemistry. There is no place in the world where borax is fbund so pure, and in such quantity, as in the bottom of Clear Lake, not far from here. A few men can get several tons a day of beautiful crystalized borax. Some future day, no doubt, science will come to this now mysterious region, and uncover these hidden treasures in unusual quantities for materials to be used for the good of man, and that which now seems to be the breathing holes of the regions infernal, are the means by which God shows his children where to find these chemicals. There is no doubt, sulphur enough in this locality to supply this nation with gunpowder, and ink enough in the Devil's Inkstand to supply the world. I could not look upon the Geysers otherwise than a vast chemical repository, where these minerals have been thrown together by changes which have taken place in the earth, and that water has broken in, and coi) tinues to run in among them under their covering. I I I 423 &VISIT TO THE GEYSERS. The whole region is a subterranean treasury of chemistry. There is no place in the world where borax is fbund so pure, and in such quantity, as in the bottom of Clear Lake, not far from here. A few men can get several tons a day of beautiful crystalized borax. Some future day, no doubt, science will come to this now mysterious region, and uncover these hidden treasures in unusual quantities for materials to be used for the good of man, and that which now seems to be the breathing holes of the regions infernal, are the means by which God shows his children where to find these chemicals. There is no doubt, sulphur enough in this locality to supply this nation with gunpowder, and ink enough in the Devil's Inkstand to supply the world. I could not look upon the Geysers otherwise than a vast chemical repository, where these minerals have been thrown together by changes which have taken place in the earth, and that water has broken in, and coi) tinnes to run in Prnong them under their covering. i I 1 423 I THE QUICKSILVER MINE. mand from one having authority, "all aboard," hur ries us to our seats, and we soon enter an avenue of old poplar trees, that extends from Santa Qlara to San Jose, which were planted many years ago by and for the convenience of the two Missions. On either side of this avenue are environed taste ful cottages, flourishing farms, orchards laden with more tempting fruit than our mother Eve had to tempt Adam with, which are supplied with water from artesian wells. Arriving in San Jose, we find a very pleasant and Ii interesting agricultural city, with unusual tempta. tions of fruit, trailing vines and flowers; one of the neatest, best dressed-up places we had visited. It seemed to wear Sunday clothes every day. Remain ing here over night, we have a very interesting ride of fourteen miles next morning, through an ever green grove of oaks and broad-spreading branches of the sycamore trees, till we find ourselves partaking heartily of the delicious waters of the soda springi .at the romantic place of New Almaden, about sixty. five miles from San Francisco. It is of a wild and weired appearance; looks as though there might "some good come out of Nazareth," from among the broken and piled up mountains. Up over the smaller hills, three miles from the town, are the mines, nine hundred and fifty feet perpendicular height. >,,~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I i I i I I 425 BEYOND THE WEST. This mine has a history of its own, which-is some what curious. It was known for ages by the Indi. ans, who worked it for tke paint it contained, with which they ornamented their persons; and for that purpose it had become a valuable article of exchange with other tribes on the Pacific Coast. Some twenty-five years ago, a Mexican cavalry of. ficer met some Indians painted with vermilion, which he knew they had obtained from the cinnabar, or quicksilver ore. He succeeded, by bribery, to get the Indians to show him the place. Tht-e mines are on a cross range of the coast range of mountains. The Indians had dug over sixty feet into the mountain, when white man first saw it, with their wooden sticks, probably the work of centuries. Quite a number of skeletons were found in a passage where life had been lost by the caving in of the rocks and earth. It was supposed for some time that the ore contained gold, or at least silver, and was treated accordingly, without success, when a Mexican made a small smelting furnace, filled it with the ore and applied fire at the bottom, when he soon found by the pernicious effects of the fumes on his person, that he had wholly mistaken the composition of the ore-that he had caught a tiger-that it was quicksilver ore. Upon this discovery, a large English and Mexican I I I I .426 THE QUICKSILVER MINE. company was organized to work the mine. Thbey commenced operations on a large scale in 1847, and expended up to June, 1850, Three Hundred and Eigh ty-Seven Thousand Dollars more than their receipts! During that year, a new process was discovered by one of the workmen, a blacksmith, which proved to be a successful treatmentof the ore-when the company constructed fourteen smelting furnaces upon the same principle. The process of extracting the quicksilver from the cinnabar is quite simple. The company have a brick building two hundred feet long, with a furnace iil one end, which is filled with cinnabar and covered securely up. A fire is then made in the furnace, from which, through a perforated wall of brick on the opposite side, the fumes, which are quicksilver in the form of vapor, pass into the condensing rooms. There are thirteen in number, divided by thick walls, each room eighteen feet high and fifteen wide, with an opening of a foot the whole length of the partition at the top of one, and at the bottom of the other. Through these openings, the fumes alter nately going over one wall and under the next, through all the thirteen compartments, so that when it reaches the last room it is wholly condensed, and the floor being on an incline, the quicksilver runs to the lower end of the ro)om, thence through a pipe I 42,-i -- BEYOND THE WEST. into a trougb that extends the whole length of the building, where it empties into a large circular caldron. From this it is dipped into strong iron flasks, in quantities of seventy-five pounds. Each flask must have an iron cap, stongly screwed on; and they must not be full, or the quicksilver will, on exposure to the sun, ooze through the iron. It is now ready foi)r market, and is sent all over the world; some goes to China, and comes back in vermilion paint. This greatestof quicksilver mines gives the metal that enables the miners on the Pacific Coast to gath er together such large amounts of gold and silver, to strengthen all the avenues of trade. After the very large expenditure the company made, the mine has returned it to them ten-fold, and is now the best paying mine on the Coast. The ore bed is about two miles wide, and the ore contains from fifteen to forty per cent. of metal. The profits of the company are now half a million dollars annually; while their expenses are about half a million dollars. Now, let us go up to the mine, nine hundred and forty feet above the base of the mountain and the reducing works. The distance is a mile, and yet under a burning sun, to travel it on foot, one would be willing to make an affidavit that it was nearer three. Hlaving arrived at the mine, we pause to look around us. For a very long sweep of distance, nothing is I I II I i I.i I i i I i I I iI II iI i ii i I THE QUICKSILVER MINE. seen lut the tops of successive mountain ranges, with some towering sentinel peaks, looking down up. on the beautiful Valley of the San Juan, with the Coast Range nearly lost in the distance. About us are immense piles of debris, and ore from the mine, and a settlemaent hard by composed of the famnilies and lodging cabins of the miners. The process of working the mine has been truthfully described by another, L. A. Downer, that we intrndace to the reader. In 1850 a tunnel was commenced in the side of the mountain, in a line with the yard, and which has already been carried to the distance of one thousand one hundred feet, by ten feet wide and ten feet high, to the crown of the arch, which is strongly roofed with heavy timber through out its whole length. Through this the rail track passes, the car receiving the ore as it is brought on the backs of carriers from the depths below, or from the hights above. The track being free, we will now take a seat on the car and enter the dark space. Not an object is visible save the faint torchlight at the extreme end and a chilling dampness seizes on the frame, so suddenly bereft of warmth and sunshine. This sensation cloes not continue as we descend into the subterranean cavern below. And now comes the wonders, as well as the dangers, of the undertaking. By i I 1,I i I I i I I I II 11 I i I i I 429 I i i i i I I i I I I I.I I k II i i I I I i II BEYOND THE WEST. the light of a torch, wve pass through a damp pas. sage of some length, a sudden turn bringing us into a sort of vestibule, where, in a niche at one side, is placed a rude shrine of the tutelary saint. or protectress of the mine, (Nucetft Senora de Guadalupe,) be fore which lighted candles are kept constantly burn. ing, and before entering upon the labors of the day or night, each man visits thtis shrine in devotion. You descend a perpendicular ladder, formed by notches cut into a solid log, perhaps twelve feet; then turn and pass a narrow corner, where a fr'ghtful gulf seems yawning to receive you. Carefully threading your way over the narrowest of footpaths, you turn into another passage, dark as night, to descend into a flight of steps f()rme(l in the side of a cave, tread over some loose stones, turn around, step over arches, down into another passage that leads into many dark and intricate windings and descendings, or chambers supported by but a column of earh; DOW stepping this way, then that, twisting and turning, all tending down, down to wnhere, through the darkness of midnight, one can discern the faint glimmer which shines like Shakespeare's good deeds in a naughty world, anq which it seems impossible one can ever reach. We were shown a map giving the subterranean topography of this mine; and truly, the crossings i I I 430 TH E QUICKSILVER MINE. and recrossings, the windings and intricacies of-the labyrinthine passages could only be compared to the streets of a dense city, while nothing short of the clue furnished Thesus by Ariadne, would insure the safe return into day of the unfortunate pilgrim who should enter without a guide. The miners are all Mexicans, and have named the different passages after their saints, and run them off as readily as we do the streets of a city; and after exhausting the names of all the saints in the calendar, have com-menced on different animals-one of which is not inaptly called E1 Elefante. Some idea of the extent and number of these passages may be formed when we state, that sixty pounds of candles are used by the workmen in twenty-four hours. Another turn brings s upon some men at work; one stands upon a P..ingle plank high above us in an arch, and he is drilling into the rock above him, for the purpose of placing a charge of powder. How he can maintain his equilibrium is a mystery to us: yet no accident of consequence has as yet happened in the mine. These men work in companies-one set by night, another by day, alternating week about. These underground miners are short-lived, showing conclu. sively how essential light and air are to animal as well as vegetable life. With a sigh and a shudder we step aside to allow a set of laborers to pass. I I I 431 -- - ~;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There they come up and up from almost intermin able depths; each one as he passes, panting and pufil-)g and wheezing like a high-pressure steamboat, as with straining nerve and quivering muscle he staggers under the load which nearly bends him doub le.'Ihose are the t~ nateras, carrying the ore from the mine to deposit it in the cars. The ore is placed in e flat leather bag, with a band two inches wide that passes around the forehead, the weight restiDg along the shoulders and spine. Two hundred pounds oft' rough ore are thus borne up flight after flight of perpendicular steps-now winding thriough deep caverns, or threading the most tortuous passages; again ascending passages that have a poor apology for steps, where one unwary step would plunge him beyond a possibility of human life. Not always, however, do they ascend; they sometimes come from above, yet we should judge the daTnger and toil i(, be nearly as great in one case as in the other. Thirty trips will these men make in one day from the lt(weubt depths. We will now follow these hardy Mexicans, as they loa( the car with the contents of thleir EYE VIEW OF CALIFORNIA. These large estates will, no doubt, soon be divided up for the good of the many. The Japanese; eve purchased large sections of land here, f,r the purp[,,se of cultivating the mulberry and m king silk. They are, no doubt, the most skillful silk growers in tI e world.. The climate and soil is supposed to le admirably adapted to the business. They also de s i, to undertake the cultivation of the tea plant. Every kind of grape known on the earth's surface will glow here in perfection. Along the Golden Belt, in the foot-hills of the Nevadas, the whole length of the State is a volcanic belt from thirty to forty miles wide, which is exact1- adapted to the wants of the vine. The' west coast range has also become celebrated for the fruitfuliiess of the vine. In Sonoma Valley are some of the largest vineyards. The State now produces over seven millions gallons of wine annually, and thie increase of vine is at least' two millions a year. California is, no doubt, the greatest wine growing region in the world. Her wines have'already become celebrated, and have a reputation over the world for their superior quality. When the thousands were rushing to California by land and water after shining gold. nobody expected to stay only long enougn to obtain the desired treasuro. Nobody supposed the soil could be made to I 457 BEYOND THE WEST. produce anything. Consequently this more important blaiJch of industry was for a long time neglected. But timue passed on; necessity and the usual quick observation and the adaptation of our people to circumstances, soon learp,e t,hem that they were not only in a golden land, Jut also in the midst of a region unequaled in the world for agricultural productiveness. California is about eight hundred miles long by two hundred wide. It has two parallel mountain ranges its whole length. Much of it.s so ieeep and broken that cultivation is impossible. Yet it is supposed the State can support a population of twenty millions by her (wn resources. A wise Providence seems to have reserved the Pacific slope of this continent till the Eastern portion had become settled, and Hiis institutions established and proven before it should become a great part of our inheritance, and give to the people of the crowded hives of the Orient more comfortable homes. San Francisco is, by her geographical position, by her capital and enterprise, the Elect City of the Pacific Coast, as New York is on the Atlantic; and nothing but earthquakes can prevent her prosperous growth-at least, nothing above ground. The entrance from the Pacific, through the Golden Gate I 7 458 BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF CALIFORNIA. to the Bay, is directly east; then you turn to.the south around the Peninsula, at the end of which the city is located, on the before-mentioned desolate sandhills, having one of the most capacious and safest harbors, large enough to receive the ships of all the oceans of the world. Within a few years the forbidding hills have been graded down, and the low places filled up, till now we see a great city having one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, with architecture superior to many eastern cities-nothing looks young or unfinished. You are surprised at seeing a city looking so old and finished. Capital centered here and found profitable investment. The city has several miles of very expensive wharfage now built, and steamship lines for China, Japan, Sandwich Islands and Oregon. She is now a great commercial and manufacturing city. San Francisco is not as agreeable in the summer as the cities farther inland, but makes compensation by having the most enjoyable winter. During the summer the much heated, rarified air back from the coast rises, causing the setting in of a strong breeze from the ocean, which pushes through the Golden Gate, hurries and scurries through San Francisco filled with dust, more especially during the middle of the day when the heat is the strongest. This steady, pervading wind inland from the 459 BEYOND THE WEST. ocean, cools the otherwise unendurable heat in the valleys, and gives to California her agreeable summer season. While the isothermal line on the Atlantic slope sweeps down from the ice-bound Arctic seas, freezing and covering the land with deep snows; whereas on the Pacific slope in winter the wind currents are from the equatorial regions north, warming the coast country, so that while we are frozen down they are ploughing and sowing, to grow the best wheat in the world. The warm breezes from the south give to California her mellow and most agreeable winter season. Probably owing to the climate, children here have the fairest, fullest and greatest physical development. No where else can they be found developing such a physical manhood. It can hardly be other wise, where children can live out in the open air the most of the year, and have a thousand incentives to effort. There will grow uLp in this country a race of men, physically, such as has no where else been found. There is one kind of human element in Califoruia, of too much importance to this country to be passed unnoticed. When the discovery of the gold mines went out over the eastern world, the packed, starving multitudes of ancient China saw some deliverance, and soon thousands of themn were scattered over Califor 460 BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF CALIFORNIA. nia, digging gold and doing various other kinds of work, doing nearly all the domestic work of the country-and doing it weU-the very best substitute for female labor. Their labor was indispensabte from the very first. Had it not been for them, California could not have been made the great State she is to-day-they and the country were benefited by their coming. When the railroad was to be built they stood ready to do the work by thousands. The better they are known, the more their labor is demanded. They seem to be contented and happy here. Yet, not one of them has signified his intention to become a citizen, notwithstanding the State imposes a tax on him for mining, of four dollars a month, which he could save if he were a citizeti. The longer I remained among them, the more favorably was I impressed with their usefulness. There is such an amount of human life in China, that many of them live half starved from generation to generation, and become diminutive-not larger than the average of our females. Yet John, (they are called by that name here,) is quite strong, enduring, active, quick to learn, quick to imitate, mild in disposition, kindly disposed, industrious, willing, economical-can live on very little, and will use that little to the very best advantage for himself or for his employer. A certain class, mostly foreigners I I I I I I 461 BEYOND THlE WEST. themselves, declared that the Chinaman should not come here; but they might as well go down to the Golden Gate and order the tide to'stay out, with the Pacific Ocean behind it. Nothing can keep back the starving population in China, from going where there is plenty of labor. Labor will go where it is needed and paid the best-this is in accordance with immutable laws. They are now doing nearly all the work in the California factories, at one dollar per day, and they have proven to be superior workmen. Their labor is needed-let them come. But some say they will come here in such numbers as ultimately to control the country. I have no fears of this. The Anglo Saxon race having founded and made this country what it is, with their original traits of character to control, to govern, will never transfer the control of this country to another race. No other people in the world would or could have gone on the Pacific Coast, and established themselves, made governments and planted their home institutions so peacefully, so permanently, so pros perously. Our people truly, in their quiet way, are the most successful colonizers of the earth. No nation is so sure to impress itself on malnkin.d, upon whatever it undertakes, as ours; and I have no misgivings as to the power which will control this country in the future as in the past. There are other -162 BItD S EYE VIEW OF CALIFORiNqa. places, we have not space to notice, in California, which the traveler should not fail to visit. He should by all means take the steamer at San Francisco, down the coast, and get an idea of Lower California, the land of the angels, a region of country larger than any one of the New England States, as yet but little developed; where are the fertility, the beauty, (as God made it,) the fields of the tropics, where enterprise will find many sources of wealth; where wealth may sleep in the lap of beauty; a country which can be made a garden fair as Eden. Here are the refreshing rains at all seasons of the year; the land of sunshine and showers, giving a constant, luxuriant, vegetable growth the whole year. Here the strawberry plant yields its fruit every month of the year. Here nature seems to have concentrated more of that which goes to make up the sum total of the comforts of human life, than anywhere else in our sunset land. Life here is one continuous summer, without excessive heat; the cool sea breeze comes in to cool the heat, while the warm breezes from the south drives winter far away. Those who go to the Pacific Coast to find new homes, will find this region healthful and of the great. est fertility. We know of no place where nature has been more liberal; where more can be obtained with so little effort. Everything seems generous — liberal to a remarkable deg(ree. 463 BEYOND THE WEST. Previous to the Mexican war, we knew Galifornia only by name-a far-off, unknown land; but little this side of where the sun goes down in the great ocean-which tribes of degraded Indians occupied; while her great mountain ranges, with their majestic forests stood sentinel, while the extensive and beautiful valleys were listening to hear the tread of coming footsteps, from the East and the West, for another people were on the way, whose indomitable energy would soon move out imbecility, and the country begin the fulfillment of her destiny-but not till fearful battles had been fought was the question settled as to who should own the land of gold. The American flag, as usual, triumphed, which gave confidence and safety to all nations. Soon after followed the discovery of untold wealth. Excitement ran unbridled. Such a rush for golden land is unparalleled. The new born had no infant life or youth, but stood up full grown before Congress for admission as a State. California came-the fairest daughter of the Pacific-with her garments trimmed with gold; none could refuse her-not ore. As the result, we soon have a full-grown State, not fully developed, but meritorious, and the Republic extended between the two oceans. The wonderful productiveness of the mines gave confidence arid held t'e Government steady, as her i i I i i I I i 461 BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF CALIFORNIA. paper credit extended during our late war, unparalleled in the annals of the human race. The great fact was before the people, that untold treasure of gold and silver was laid away until called for in our Pacific land, on the surface and beneath the ground, which gave hope when all seemed lost, by the convulsions of cruel war. But as time passes, government credit grows stronger; the Old Ship moves on steadily to her moorings again, because she is balasted with gold. The discovery of gold in California gave a stimulous to every department of business, advanced civilization at home and abroad, and stirred up oid nations to seek more comfortable homes, by having more profitable employment. An overruling Providence has a time for all things. The discovery of the valuable metals on the Pacific Coast seems so timely-just when mankind could be made richer without becoming vain-just when the world needed more coin the most; when people could have everything better; when they could have eilver dishes, and not be as proud as our ancestors were with their shining pewter. After the before unknown treasures of the Pacific part of the Continent were made known, the world seemed to rise up for a new race in human progress; the foundation of human comforts and enjoyments were largely extended, and the world moved ahead 465 BEYOND THE WEST. within the last twenty years in Christian civilization farther than in any previous century. Nature has done much to make this sunset land of ours a home for the different families of men, and give her a place among the other States of the Union of so much importance. We see a great future for this part of our land-far-reaching in results to the hbumnan family, for both hemispheres. Here the people from the East and from the West meet-here they iunite their interests. It would seem to be the plan o)f Infinite Wisdom, to bring the more feeble races of men here through the Ocean Gateway, where they might learn His purposes, and have the benefit of a higher civilization. There is no nationality on earth so certain to impress itself upon weaker races, as the American. Christianity and civilization, those twin sisters of a birth divine, which started where Eden bloomed, have been marching together all through the ages, and all round the globe into this t'air land, the utmost part of the West. Here, on ti is western margin of the globe, our people have found a heritage which rivals the land of promise, as described by the Pr(ophet: "A land of brooks, of water, of fountains and depths, that spring out of the valleys and hills; a land of wheat and barley, and vines and fig trees, at.d pomegranates; a land of oil, olive and honey; a land in which thou i i I' I i I I i i II iiI i I i II i i I i i i i I i iI I i ii 466 BIRD'S EYE VIEW OF CALIFORNIA. shall eat bread without scarceness; thou shalt' not lack anything in it; a land whose stones are iron, and out of whose hills thou mayest dig brass," a delinea tion of California, the offspring of Divine appoint ment. Asia first saw the Star of Empire take its way westward, when it illumed the pride of Babylon and Ninevah, and the Kingdom of Darius. Europe next grew radiant in its beams, when it gleamed on the darkness of Greece and Rome, and lit up the modern powers in its rich effulgence. Then it traveled across the ocean, to pour its greatest and latest splendor down upon America with a pervading glory, ever spreading oil across the Continent, until its mission was accomplished, and it fell on California-the Empire of the West. The remembrance of many scenes and experiences in our travels over this other half of our heritage, will ever form one of the pleasant memories of life. No country more grand, varied and magrificent-a union of that which is great and imposing-when seen as God made it. We terminate our travel with enlarged views of the Pacific part of our country. I would that you, kind reader, and all our people, could worship before its remarkable Nature-without it none can have an adequate knowledge of this country-of our extend I i 467 BEYOND THE WEST. ed domain; of our developed and undeveloped re sources; of the future home of millions, bound together by a comm)n interest of Divine love and human brotherhood, from Ocean to Ocean; but one great Nation, one G()vc(rnjlent, one Glorious Flag, one Noble Destiny ''~ .1 i 468 SEA LIONS AND THEIR YOUNG, J \) Al 1: ; i i APPENDIX. CLIMATE OF THE PACIFIC COAST. The causes of the peculiar (unlike elsewhere) climates of our western coasts are still not wholly known. Careful investigations of the Government geographical surveys in the mountain ranges, and the observations of Government officers on the coast and at the military stations, have given us some important facts which aid somewhat in explaining them; but we shall have to wait a few years the basis of a "Science of Climate" for the Pacific coast, before they can be satisfactorily explained. That which is the most essential isas yet the least known and deter mined-the marine currents of the Pacific Oceanwhich have a vast influence in determining the climates of its coasts. Every intelligent traveler will be convinced that there is a mysterious something in the climate of this coast, which is remarkably bracing and invigorating, which cannot be properly explained by its equability, its temperature, or its dryness. Whether it is occasioned by that fortunate mixture of oceanic and continental climates which characterizes this coast, or from iiidiscovered causes, future investigation must determine. I I i i i i I i I i i i i I i i i i i i I i i I I I APPENDIX. .In this brief account of the climates of thre Pacific coast, we shall only attempt to give the facts which are known, but as yet have not been put together. The general impression.of intelligent people in the Atlantic States is, that the Northern Pacific coast is a most disagreeable, cold, half-barren region, possessing little or no capacities for production or de velopment, which is far from the truth. Our northern possessions on the Pacific, and of British America, and a vast tract lying eastward and extending far to the north, are capable of producing the ordinary grains and fruits of a temperate climate, and support a large population, as much so as any part of Northern Europe. Starting as far north as Alaska, where the mean annual temperature is ,2 deg., the same as that of the north coast of Locke Superior, and is several degrees farther to the Noi h, and yet equally as warm, should we come down to Sitka, (from which the ice used in California Hs brought,) we have the summer of Norway, (55 deg. nean); and crossing the coast mountains to the intevior country, more especially on the plains, we have precisely in its latitude the sunny summer of France (65 deg. mean.) There is an immense region in this part of the continent, stretching as far as 60 deg. north latitude, beyond Alaska, capable of producing the bread grains. ii I I i I I i iI iI i I I i I i I i I i I I i I ii I I I i I I i iI iI 470 CLIMATE OF' THE PACIFIC COAST. Should we still go northward, above the latitude of Alaska and north of the southernmost part of Greenland, we find a section of country near the McKenzie River so mild in climate as to have the summer of Ireland, (60 deg. mean.) This agreeable summer climate extends from this region southward till it reaches Puget's Sound, and passes on to Los Angelos in Lower California, at the latitude of Africa, for a distance of 1,500 miles north and south. This very remarkable range of a cool and mild summer (57 to 60 deg.) for such a distance, spread over a coast, is unknown elsewhere in the world. It is evident that the isothermals are north and south, instead of east and west. Still, we must remember that along the whole coast, between the coast ranges and the mountains of the interior, are belts of climate which are considerably different from one another. Should we go south to British America, in the latitude of H.udson's Bay and Scotland, we have the summer of Fi'rance (65 deg. mean.) This belt of agreeable summer climate, though interrupted by the Ro,k.k Mountains, we will find inside the coast ranger lif we reach Lower California; or, as if from Scotland to Africa, one belt of delicious summer extending across Europe. Starting in the latitude of Puget's Sound, east f i iI i: .11 I iI I i i II I i i i 471 APPENDIX. ward of the mountains, in British America, we have the summer of Southern France and Northern Italy (70 deg. mean.) This uniformity of climate is interrupted by cross mountain ranges, and begins again in the latitude of Astoria, and extends down through Oregon and Central California, to the latitude of Northern Africa. This is the region, in its central portion, of the vine, the fi.g and the olive. Puget's Sound has, on its northern coast, the climate of Ireland and England- throughout the year, or an annual temperature of 50 deg. mean. Southern California, including a region above the Gulf of California, for several- hundred miles, has the mean annual temperature of Northern Africa, (70 deg.) Again, if we consider the climates of the South, we have the summer temperature of Algeria (80 deg.) prevailing through the California Peninsula. We meet with a formidable temperature in the Arizona Desert. One valley near the Colorado and the Gila has the summer of the hottest districts of Africa, (90 deg. mean,) and sometimes enjoys a temperature hardly surpassed anywhere, —the therniometer at times indicating 116 deg. in the shade, and averaging over 100 deg. for a month at a time. Our observations, thus far, are those of summer; but if we examine the winter temperature, we discover that the winter of Ireland,Ell)gl'ind, Western I 472 I 7;&-Y~-fyThfl-~__ PELICAN ISLAND. ) CLIMATE OF THE PACIFIC COAST. France, Northern Italy, and Asia Minor, (40'deg. mean,) commences at Vancouver's and goes down through Western Oregon, following the mountain ranges down through California. San Francisco enjoys the winter climate of Charlestoll, (50 deg. mean.) The climate changes but very little inside the coast range all the way down to the lower Colorado River. The most remarkable feature of the California coast climate, is its equability. rhe range of temperature in winter, for four years of observation, was 4 deg. The range in San Francisco, between January and July, was only 8 deg. while in Washington, for the same period, it was 44 deg. The cool air from the ocean, through what may be called the keyhole of the State, the "Golden Gate," diffuses itself through the country in all directions. I have felt this breeze, regularly every mornilig at about 11 o'clock, far amid the Sierras, a hundred'miles away, in valleys facing the west. In and about San Francisco, it is the constant incoming wind which modifies and makes the remarkable eqability of climate Thick clothes are necessary the whole year, and yet many families never have a fire in their grates during the entire year. Hlowever warm the day begins, about 10 o'clock, every person is glad of thick clothing. The suimll,er is considered th)e mrst unpleasant season. The I 473 APPENDIX. winter is quite like an English summer, sho-wery out delightful. The'wind currents from the sea begin in the morning and gradually increase till midday, anrd attain their maximum force between two and three o'clock P. M., afterward dying away to a per fect calm at sunset. Soon after, the atmospheric currents begin to come down from ttie snow-capped Sierras towards the ocean, imparting to the nights an agreeable and exhilarating coolness, for at night the land rapidly cools while the sea retains its nor mal temperature. Several valleys north of San Francisco, in the coast range, such as Sonoma, Napa,P'eteluma, and others, all the way up to the Russian River, have a most delightful cl'imate. The sun is warm, but in the afternoon the sea breeze from the Golden Gate tempers the atmosphere, and the evenings and nights are very agreeable. The country' most resembling California in climate is Syria; and yet that favored land, though abounding in the most delicious grapes, has never made a first class wine. The excessive heat and rarefication of climate in California seems to intensify the essential oils, which are the base of odors, and thus produce the agreeable flavor whicl distinguishes the wines of this favored region. All odors and oils ate strengthenied by this wonderful climate, which, with the application of water. I 474 CLIMIATE OF THE PACIFIC (OAST. makes one great hot-bed and pleasure ground of the earth, as is granted by a bountiful Nature to the hand of man. There is no climate in Europe or the Eastern States, and very few soils, that are like those of California. The conditions are essentially different, and what would be adapted to our circuimstances might be unadapted to these. Such is the wonderful quality of nature here, and the remarkable energy of our people in this invigorating climnate, that they undertake and imagine beforehand. however inexperienced they maybe, that they know it all; consequently many disappointments are the result of too hasty efforts. With a sun as of Italy, a coast wind cool, and an air as crisp and dry as that of the high Alps, people work on without much relaxation or excessive fatigue, and can accomplish as much as double the number elsewhere. The temptation for men to over-exercise is excessive; they have none of those necessary resting spells which the "heated terms" on the Atlantic require of our hard-working citizens, and fewer of the necessary vacations which Nature enforces in the diseases of our changeable climate. We have often thought that if an intelligent student of Nature, from our Atlantic slo(pe, were suddenly dropped down, blindfolded, on the Pacific coast, in valley or on mountain, he w,,nld know as i I 475 APPENDIX. soon as be could look around, that he was not on this coast or in Europe, but in a different country from either-the Pacific west combining the elements of several countries, blended agreeably together, making a soil and climate as near perfection for the use of man as he can attain without enervation. In all countries, of all human conditions next to civilization and its advantages, the most important is climate; perhaps for individual happiness, it is more essential than all other material circumstances. Examining further the particular characteristics of the Pacific climates, a remarkable feature is the variety of climates within a breadth of 200 miles in California. One may be enjoying a very pleasant June on the coast, say with a mean temperature of 57 deg.; he may travel east in some places not more than 150 miles, and pass through several successive belts of climate, corresponding with the summers of France Northern Italy, Spain and Algeria, and at Fort Miller he encounters a mean temperature of 108 deg., the heats of interior Africa. Then again, he has but to travel a few miles to the snows and frosts of the Sierras; so that within a breadth of two hundred miles one will experience almost every belt of the world's climate. Again, comparing the temperature of places on the Pacific with European, we discover that San 476 0 CLIMATE OF THE PACIFIC COAST. Francisco has the annual temperature of Bordeaux and of Constantinople, but with much more uniformity of climate. Its spring, about 54 deg., is milder than that of any other city, except Cardiz or Lisbon. Its summer (69 and 57 deg.) is less warm, and its winter season more genial, than that of Bordeaux, Madrid, or Constantinople. Monterey has the annual temperature of Toulouse or Cardiz. Los Angelos, which has a spring equal in warmth (74 deg.) to the summer of Madrid, has an autumn (56 deg.) as moderate as that of Southern France. The climate of California, taking the year through, is a dry one; the summer, from the middle of May till November, being usually without rain, and the winter is only what may be called a showery season. The annual rain-fall is about 22 inches, which is nearly the same as that of Syria and Paris, while that of the Atlantic coast reaches 42 inches. The annual rain-fall increases steadily up the coast. At Fort Yuma the -,in-fall is only 3.15 inches, and also on the southern coast of Lower California. Farther up the coast, at Los Angelos, the fall is 9.7 inches; at San Diego, 10.43; at Fort Vancouver, Oregon, 47.38; at Astoria, 86.35; and at Sitka, 89.94 inches. Frost seldom penetrates the ground anywhere near this coast, and it never snows at Astoria; and, be it remembered, this place is in the same latitude of I I I 477 APPENDIX. the Lake Superior region and the frozen' C,ist (,f New Brunswick. But as we proceed inland, greater extremes of heat and cold are experienced. It is to the elevation, in fact, that the great differences of climate are due in this region. Sixty miles east of Portland, in the Cascade Mountains, it is cold and snowy when there is a warm rain at this place. Snow falls on the high Coast Mountains of Oregon and Washington, while on either side of them there is a heavy growth of perpetual verdure. The climate of the valleys, plainrs and mountains of our Pacific West is such that it is easy to find almost every modification of heat and cold, moisture and dryness, by seeking certain altitudes or depressions more or less distant from the sea. The sunny valleys of Italy or the glaciers of Switzerland are alike accessible all the year. The currents of cold air drives down like a great river, overflowing its banks and spreading itself over the whole country, drives down from the Rocky Mountains, Sierras and Cascades, till it joins the milder currents from the Pacific, and diffuses over the whole country a mild, healthy, invigorating and useful climate. The traveler from the eastern coast will be peculiarly impressed with the purity of the California atmosphere; hlie will wonder and look about him to discover tile causes of such physical 4.8 CIL.IMATE OF THE PACIFIC COAST. intoxication, such unusual,buoyancy of spirits,'such exhilaration and pleasure, anywhere away from the Coast, as to sleep out in "the open air" with the greatest comfort, by rolling himself in blankets and "t,urning in" on the sand or under a tree. Many laboring men in the country still keep. up this old camping habit. While examining the phenomena of the peculiar climates on the Pacific coast, we meet with this difficulty, (as we have before intimated,) the want of a thorough observation of the facts, a proper investigation of the causes. The controlling cause is, without doubt, the remarkable ocean currents that set in on that coast, but as yet how little is known of these. We know this much, however, that in summer a large body of cool water comes down from the Arctic regions along the coast of Brtish Ameri. ca, Oregon and California. This great body of cool water is coldest near the shore; consequently, the heavy nightly for which covers the coast and pours in through the opening in the coast mountains at Sap Francisco, enveloping that city nightly. In winter the water along the coast is about three degrees warmer than in summer, and is much higher than the temperature of the land, which, without doubt, is one of the principal causes of the agreeable winter season along the coast country. I 479 APPENDI,X. In the summer months when the sun's-rays are more vertical, the great plains and deserts of Eastern Oregon, Idaho, Montana, Nevada and California become heated and the air rarefied; the great body of colder atmosphere from the neighboring ocean begins to drive itself into the rarefied spaces, causing that constant sea gale which, pouring over the coast ranges, cools the interior country. But for this, under a semi-tropical sun, destitute of rain, the inner country would be another Sahara desert. But again, as the sun's rays in winter become less vertical, and the interior cooler, at the same time the ocean (froin some unexplained cause) being warmer, the sea winds cease, and the coast is warmer in winter than in summer. The southeast. and southwest winds in winter being in milder temperature, from the ocean, than that of the land, are at once condensed, and the rainy season ensues. When the sun returns northward again it reverses this, and the dry season follows. But why so much more rain in Oregon during the year than iil California and Washington, and with such southeast winds? The cause of this is not wholly clear; but by the return trades in summer, and the atmosphere being milder than on the California coast, the air less highly rarefied, the winds less violent and more warm, and therefore more easily condensed, gives Oregon much more 480 CLIMATE OF THE PACIFIC COAST rain throughout the year. But what all the peculi arities of climate are in Western Oregon, to cause such excessive rain there, when there is such a want of it on either side, is yet to be investigated and explained. The Pacific ranges along the whole coast naturally fore iterior climates peculiar to each location, different from that of the sea-board. The further the interior from the influence of the sea air, and the nearer to the reflected heat from the sides of the mountain ranges, the hotter they become. Some places where the sun's rays are concentrated by hillsides, and the sea breeze is shut off, we find a temperature that surprises us. As at Fort Yuma, where the air is wholly from interior deserts, and the latitude quite south, we have one of the hottest regions known in the world. We also find interior regions quite northward, having the heat of the tropics from the same cause. All other oceans are feeble in their importance, when compared with that remarkable body of water which tempers and controls the interesting (somewhat unexplainable) climate of the Pacific coast-essentially its own, and has no exact correspondence elsewhere in the world. Many people in the older States, since the completion of the Continental Railway, are asking themselves the question, whither they can go to better I ii I 481 APPENDIX. their condition. To all such I would say, do nob content yourself in the less favored regions in the center of the continent, but press forward (if you are energetic) to that country-the Pacific coast-where the climate is the very air of labor; where the amazing natural resources, the wonderful richness and beauty of its soil and, climate, makes the greatest treasure (to those who know how and are willing to find it) we have in our own territory. I have mentioned before the South of California and the sunny and fertile region of Los Angelos and Santa Barbra. A combitiation. of circumstances point to this region as undoubtedly the ipost desirable part of the Pacific coast for the emigrant. I fully believe that a colonial emigration of Yankees to that portion of:the State could and would make this region one of the gardens of.the world. They would soon have their "cattle on a thousand hills," as once of Palestine, and the shepherds leading their flocks on the hills of Los Angelos, as once of Judea. Here they would have the best climate, amid oranges, lemons;- almonds, figs, olives, the rarest vines, and the largest enervating influence of climate that the Anglo Saxon has ever enjoyed The Jewish law describes no more favored land than this, into which the children of Israel were promised and led. While traveling through those vast regions east (of i I I I I 482 I i, CLIMATE OF THE PACIFIC COAST. 483 ! the Rocky Mountains, I have been often reminded of the old Bible descriptions of nature and scenery in Judea as applicable here. There are many striking resemblances between our Pacific coast and Syria; indeed the country seems an American Palestine, where everything is peculiar and somnewhat original. It seems another country, separated by barriers-the ocean on one side and mighty mountains on the other-from the civilized world. We can now look forward to no very distant pe riod, when our Imperial Union will have here an em pire of millions, the leading community of the world, on the American shores of the Paicific. The influence of climate and circumstances are such in this new world of ours, that we can now begin to see growing up in a remote future a mix ture of races, different from each of its elements, physically and intellectually, such as no other coun i trv has yet developed. If vou. kind reader, are still in good humor with ] vcyurself, a.nd on the loevel with me, after our long o l i Ii I .I i ri t:i i I I I