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BEYOND THE WEST; 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF TWO YEARS’ TRAVEL IN THAT OTHER HALF * 
 
 OF OUR GREAT CONTINENT FAR BEYOND 
 
 THE OLD WEST, 
 
 ON THE PLAINS, IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, AND PICTURr 
 ESQUE PARKS OF COLORADO. 
 
 ALSO, 
 
 CHARACTERISTIC FEATURES OF NEW MEXICO, ARIZONA, WYO¬ 
 MING, MONTANA, IDAHO, EASTERN AND WESTERN ORE¬ 
 GON, UTAH, NEVADA, AND THE SUNSET LAND, 
 
 CALIFORNIA THE END OF THE WEST. 
 
 ITS PRESENT CONDITION, PEOPLE, RESOURCES, SOIL, CLIMATE, 
 MOUNTAIN RANGES, VALLEYS, DESERTS, MORMONS, GREAT 
 SALT LAKE, AND OTHER INLAND WATERS, THE 
 
 GREAT CONTINENTAL RAILROAD, 
 
 TOGETHER WITH 
 
 THE REMARKABLE MINERAL DEPOSITS, AND MOST WONDER¬ 
 FUL NATURAL SCENERY IN THE WORLD, BOTH 
 ENTERTAINING AND INSTRUCTIVE. 
 
 BY GEORGE W. PINE. 
 
 SECOND EDITION , RE VISED AND ENLARGED . 
 
 UTICA , N. Y.: 
 
 PUBLISHED AND PRINTED BY T. J. GRIFFITHS , 
 
 EXCHANGE BUILDINGS, 
 
 1871 , 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by 
 GEORGE W. TINE, 
 
 In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 •TEHEOTYFED BY 
 
 W I-T - HtrOHBS, 
 24 Liberty St., Utica. 
 
/ 
 
 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 book— 
 
 0 
 
 mostly 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 civilizer— 
 iron 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—Na¬ 
 ture’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 be¬ 
 yond the Old West, this work has been prepared and 
 is-now placed before the reading community. In the 
 spring of 1865, the author found himself on the west 
 bank of the Missouri River, at Atchinson, seated in an 
 
IV’ 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 overland stage for the Pacific. Having made exten¬ 
 sive 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 the picturesque and 
 historic Valley of the Mohawk, had served only to 
 increase a desire to revisit these vast and interesting 
 regions; so full of geographical and historical infor¬ 
 mation ; so replete with scenes of wonder and beau¬ 
 ty ; sublime, yet ugly; magnificent, yet rough; beau¬ 
 tiful, yet mean; which can be found in no other coun¬ 
 try—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 Hespe- 
 rides, whoSe trees bore apples of pure gold; there 
 dwelt the terrible Gorgon, whose snaky tresses turn¬ 
 ed all things into stone; there the invincible Hercu¬ 
 les 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 coun¬ 
 terpart in many places through this other part of our 
 country. The many peculiarly interesting objects, 
 its wonderful formations; its mysteries, scattered ev¬ 
 erywhere on the surface, and also imbedded in the 
 granite hills, furnish abundant material to interest 
 the curious, and to demand of the intelligent traveler, 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 v 
 
 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 hu¬ 
 man 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 time 
 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 ob¬ 
 jects presented here. The reader can have at most 
 but the best eiforts 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 jdown 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 expe¬ 
 rience ot time gone by. I had seen just enough of 
 this other half of our remarkable continent, to in¬ 
 crease a desire to largely extend my travels and be¬ 
 come more acquainted with the general characteristic 
 features of the country. 
 
 - : --—-— 
 
VI 
 
 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 permit¬ 
 ted—hoping that you will be interested in its con¬ 
 tents, and your knowledge of the country enlarged; 
 if so, the object of the author will have been accom¬ 
 plished, 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 con¬ 
 stantly occurring while journeying in the oriental 
 way, as those have done who have written their trav- 
 els over this country.. 
 
 We have purposed to give substance, rather than 
 lengthy descriptions; to abbreviate sufficiently to 
 make a book that would come within the means ol 
 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. 
 
 AUTHOR. 
 
 Herkimer, August, 1870. 
 
I 
 
 Portrait of Author, .... 
 Summit Tunnel Sierras, .... 
 
 Omaha,. 
 
 Montgomery City and Mount Lincoln, 
 
 Buffalo Hunt,. 
 
 Beaver Springing a Trap, 
 
 Indian Medicine Man, .... 
 Bear Taking Meat from Under the Head 
 
 Hunter, . 
 
 Brigham Young,. 
 
 Mormon Taeernacle, .... 
 
 Lake Tahoe, ,. 
 
 Bacramento, . . • • 
 
 Page 
 Frontispiece. 
 . . 849 
 
 . . 49 
 
 . 85 
 
 . . 136 
 
 . 168 
 
 . 268 
 
 OF THE 
 
 . . 280 
 
 . 310 
 
 . 322 
 
 . 382 
 
 . 388 
 
VIII 
 
 LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Mammoth Tree, 83 Ft. Diameter and 450 Ft. High, 399 
 
 Foot of Trail—Yo-Semite,.409 
 
 Yo- Semite Falls, .. 413 
 
 Geyser'Springs 1 Hotel,’ > . . 480 
 
 Witch’s Caldron,.422 
 
 Crystal Chapel, .... ... 442 
 
 The Pulpit,. 443 
 
 Sea Lions and their Young upon a Large Rock— 
 
 The, Entrance of San Francisco Bay, . . . 468 
 
 Pelican Island, Opposite Golden Gate, . . Finis. 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Mount Lincoln,. 
 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The Middle Park,. 
 
 90 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The 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. 
 
 The Buffaloes, ... ... 
 
 13Q 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Arizona Boundaries, Early History, Physical A spect, 
 
 Agricultural and Mineral Resources, . . 14£ 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Trapping Beaver,.1G7 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 From Denver to Cheyenne,.175 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Wyoming Territory—Her Legislature the First to 
 Extend to Woman the Elective Franchise, . 179 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Montana, Agricultural and Mining Resources, Histo¬ 
 ry and Climate,.183 
 
I\ 
 
 I 
 
 CONTENTS. Xi 
 
 •i 
 
 CHAPTER XXY. 
 
 Idaho, Shoshonee Falls, Boise City, Idaho City, Owy¬ 
 hee Quartz Mills, and Characteristic Features 
 op the Country,.201 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Eebtern Oregon, Soil, Climate, Resources and Gen¬ 
 eral Features. . . 211 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Western Oregon, Portland, Wallamet River and Val¬ 
 ley, its Unusual Peoductiveness, Heavy Forests, 
 Extensive Fisheries, Climate, Scenery, Columbia 
 River,.224 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The Louisiana Purchase, . . 251 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Indian Tribes, Character and Habits, .... 256 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Indians make a Raid on the Road, A Week at Elkhorn 
 Station, TnE 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. 
 
 The Union Pacific Company, Early History, Construc¬ 
 tion and Completion, ..341 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 The Central Pacific Company, Origin and Construc¬ 
 tion, .347 
 
 / 
 
/ 
 
 
 • 
 
 xil CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Connecting the two Roads,.851 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Nevada, Mines and Mining, Agricultural Products 
 and Physical Aspects,.359 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 • 
 
 Journey to the Hot Springs, Road to Salt Marsh, and 
 a Mountain of Salt,.375 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 Sierra Nevada Mountains, Lake Tahoe, Donner Lake, 
 
 Suffering of Emigrants, Sacramento, . . .382 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Flowers.390 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 Mammoth Tree Grove,. - ,.39G 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Yosomite Valley,.. . . 407 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 A Visit to the Geysers,.419 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 Tns Quicksilver Mine, the Largest in the World, . 424 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII 
 
 Bird’s-eye View of California, . . . 448 
 
BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 -- 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 Kind reader, we introduce you to our new book, 
 hoping you will be sufficiently interested to read it 
 through and not fall out along the way, out of sleep 
 and out of temper, before the journey is accom¬ 
 plished. Although some of its pages may seem un¬ 
 interesting, yet the varied and important subjects 
 presented to the traveler all over the great plains 
 and mountain ranges of the western half of our new 
 West is such as to command the careful investiga¬ 
 tion of all our people. Much of the country is so 
 wonderfully made up, composed of such a variety 
 of material, and the native tribes which inhabit it 
 are still so mysterious, that it is impossible for the 
 traveler’s pen to put upon paper such descriptions as 
 will give the careful reader an adequate knowledge of 
 this half of our continent, which is destined to be a 
 peculiar and very important place on the now glori¬ 
 ous future of this country. If by writing this book 
 
14 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 the information of tlie reader has been enlarged—• 
 stimulated to more fully understand and appreciate 
 this goodly heritage of ours, the primary object cJ 
 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 famity, are 
 acquiring traveled knowledge. Indeed, if all trav¬ 
 elers do not write a big book , it is not for want of inter¬ 
 esting 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 business— 
 a want of time. Those who have time and monej 
 may visit whatever country and places they may 
 w T ish 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^ 
 accumulated knowledge which perhaps he has spenl 
 years of hardship, deprivation and peril to acquire 
 While it is desirable that all our people should in 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 15 
 
 form themselves, make a familiar acquaintance with 
 * 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 for¬ 
 eign 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 wag¬ 
 on 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 bo 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 
 a3 a writer said of Moscow, “ Magnificent, yet mean ” 
 
 % 
 
t 
 
 \ 
 
 ♦ 
 
 CHAPTER 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 ns, 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 rela¬ 
 tives 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 in 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 cir¬ 
 cumstances with which it is surrounded may be con¬ 
 sidered one of the most extraordinary events in the 
 annals of the world. 
 
 As memory binds together time’s different peri- 
 
DISCOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. 17 
 
 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 mankind 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 unknown ocean, not be¬ 
 lieved to have an outer shore, to pass that bourne 
 from which no traveler had ever returned, and from 
 which experience had not taught that any mariner 
 could return—was beyond their feeble comprehen¬ 
 sions ; but the fullness of time had come. The Em¬ 
 pires of the first and oldest portions of the human 
 family 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, be¬ 
 fore 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 com- . 
 pared to a small planet. 
 
 iThe 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 
 
 
IS BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 between the beginning and end of mortal life 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 home— 
 are the property of time, and their names, of right, 
 ought to be engraven on the record of every age 
 and in every clime—living members of the world’s 
 best order of nobility. 
 
 He 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. He 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 held this 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 higher 
 civilization, where the different races of mankind 
 _ could havo a home, and worship him according to 
 
 the dictates of an enlightened judgment, freed from 
 eastern human restraints. Send oft’ the mind, tlial 
 great mystery of our being, over the solid, much 
 
DISCOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. 19 
 
 trodden Appian way, into the regions of the past 
 and briDg 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 hu¬ 
 man race. Nature mysteriously brings upon the 
 theater of the world at times mysterious men to ac¬ 
 complish some of her great purposes. Sometimes a 
 great soul seems to come forth like an exhalation 
 from the interior of the earth. Columbus educated 
 himself for his business, this made him strong and 
 decided in his opinions. Formidable difficulties be¬ 
 set him from the first, such as no other man could 
 have overcome at that time. His far-reaching pur¬ 
 pose looked through the twilight of his day and im¬ 
 parted 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 hesi¬ 
 tated 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 
 
DISCOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. 21 
 
 inferred the existence of a continent in the Western 
 Hemisphere, by considering the necessity of a 
 counterbalance to the land in the Eastern. 
 
 His 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 arrange¬ 
 ment 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 im¬ 
 pressed 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 cer¬ 
 tainty 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 he 
 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 uni¬ 
 verse, would in time interweave all the human family 
 with the thread of universal Christianit} 7 ", and wrap 
 up the nations in its broad folds. Consequently we 
 find him supplicating, in tones of humiliation, the 
 
22 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 different thrones of Europe ; traveling on foot, hav¬ 
 ing 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. 
 
 Ultimatelv 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 
 niight 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 ex¬ 
 plaining 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 wo 
 daily tread beneath our feet.” To them it wa3 vis¬ 
 ionary, 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 
 
DISCOVERY OP THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. 
 
 23 
 
 there were people not descended from Adam, as it 
 was impossible for them to have passed the inter¬ 
 vening 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 
 cold 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 homo in the capacious mind of Co¬ 
 lumbus—the home growth of his own Intellect— 
 clothed with warm and living thought. He picked 
 up and put together his oft broken hopes, and gath¬ 
 ered 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 considered 
 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 
 
24 : BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 strictly honorable to himself, and worthy of his 
 magnanimous purpose. His 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 near¬ 
 ly drained by long and expensive war. But with 
 true woman’s earnestness of purpose and grandeur 
 of soul, she said : “ I undertake the enterprise for my 
 own crown , regardless of an opposing husband or 
 anything else, and will pledge my jewels to raise 
 the necessary funds.” 
 
 He who will oppose “Woman’s Bights” (when 
 right) hath no soil in his heart for the growth of 
 just and liberal principles. Let us take through 
 tickets—-not to cross the Continent—but the great 
 unknown ocean spread out by God around the globe, 
 not to separate, but to unite the Human Family, be¬ 
 ing the only means of intercourse between regions 
 so distant. We go beyond the then known limits of 
 the world to discover and make known to the Old 
 World the New. Leaving behind our agreeable 
 homes, with all their happy surroundings, our ex* 
 
 / 
 
DISCOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. 25 
 
 panded and expansive country, homes of healthful 
 millions—the growth of Columbus’ genius—we see 
 tbe master spirit foreshadowing the mighty enter¬ 
 prise, 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 arrangements completed, 
 three small caravels, or fishing boats, a hundred and 
 twenty men, we behold the great leader, the gray¬ 
 haired sire, with eye intent, and on the visioned 
 future bent, go forth on his towering ambition, the 
 compass his only pilot, the constellated heavens his 
 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. He 
 traveled 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) from which no traveler returns. Leaving 
 family, friends, country, all the home-rooted ties that 
 hover in the human heart, behind—every thing be- 
 
BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 2G 
 
 fore him cliaos, mystery and 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 nothing short of the 
 accomplishment 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 agi¬ 
 tation became around him, exhibiting a reserved 
 power equal to any emergency. The vivid remem¬ 
 brance of his sacred promise, of long years of ex¬ 
 posure 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 sun. The dark clouds, 
 
 | 
 
 as of a long arctic night, seemed to settle down upon 
 his long cherished enterprise. All his fond antici¬ 
 pations 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.) His before warm hopes ran cold and 
 
DISCOVERT OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. 27 
 
 « 
 
 gathered at liis 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 seemed 
 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. lie 
 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 accom¬ 
 plished because written on mid-face of heaven, 
 where all the world might see it. There .are occa¬ 
 sions in which a great soul lives years of wrapt 
 enjoyment in a moment. IJis 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 
 him. 
 
 First of all we behokbthe great discoverer of Amer- 
 
2S BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 \ 
 
 ica standing on liis storm-shattered bark, the shades 
 of night having fallen on the sea—yet no man 
 sleeping. The dashing billows of alternate hope and 
 despair rolled through and convulsed his own 
 troubled bosom. Extending forward his weather¬ 
 beaten form, straining westward his anxious eyes 
 until Heaven at last granted him a moment of rap¬ 
 turous 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 habiliments 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, full 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 admi¬ 
 ration. 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 
 
I-- - 
 
 DISCOVERY OF THE ATI ERIC AN CONTINENT. 29 
 
 struck a chord that vibrated anew around the inner¬ 
 most 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 pres¬ 
 ence 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 Colum¬ 
 bus : “ 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, notwith¬ 
 standing 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 wel¬ 
 come you, for by your instrumentality my old con¬ 
 stitution will be made to smile with youth and 
 beau*ty- 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 have to tread. With a warm, pul- 
 
30 
 
 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 wel¬ 
 come 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 
 and free, grow great, prosperous and happy in my 
 approving smiles. I will add to the 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 rheumatic, 
 life-destroying systems of extending empire and 
 propagating religion by fire and sword through 
 rivers of human blood, trampling the fairest field in 
 every century into bloody mire by mighty armies, 
 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 
 
DISCOVERY OP THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. 31 
 
 pulled old empires down. Inquisition can never 
 more seal tby lips, thou new civilization; more en¬ 
 lightenment; upward and onward around the uni¬ 
 verse. The art of printing being discovered about 
 this time, the storehouses of antiquity were opened 
 
 p 
 
 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, wo¬ 
 ven 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 imperfec¬ 
 tions, 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 em¬ 
 pires of men were soon to plant in this new land the 
 elements of the highest civilization the world had 
 yet Juiown. 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 fashionably built, high-fed, 
 
32 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 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-beatings 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 
 with 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, 
 he fell at her feet. There is a gilded cord of sym¬ 
 patic running through, and throwing its folds about 
 the citadel of life in every bosom that vibrates with 
 music to faithful duty and repeated kindness—knit- 
 ing, as with golden fingers, a silken web around 
 troubles. 
 
 Columbus made other discoveries and explora¬ 
 tions which were perilous and lengthy; so that 
 when he ultimately arrived in Spain, his patroness 
 having finished her earthly work, his income not 
 
DISCOVERY OF TIIE AMERICAN CONTINENT. 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 approaching. He 
 put in order all his worldly affairs, and made arrange¬ 
 ments 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 circum¬ 
 stances amid the opposition of his fellow men. Ilis 
 life furnishes an illustrious example for men who 
 will come out from the self-same bog-trot all the year 
 round, and assume the execution of high undertak¬ 
 ings 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 
 
34 
 
 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 concen¬ 
 trated upon one object, seldom fail to accomplish 
 magnificent results. You see the grateful nation for 
 whom he had labored bearing his remains t-o 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 ignomin¬ 
 ious chains, from this very port from which his re¬ 
 mains 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 pos¬ 
 terity; or as the acorn drops to earth' unseen,let 
 
DISCOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. 35 
 
 Time’s unearthing hand cast off its shell, when the real 
 life within comes forth and we behold the trunk, the 
 branches, the foliage, the solid oak. True merit— 
 real greatness—outlives calumny and receives its 
 glorious rewards in the admiration of after ages. 
 Considering the time in which ho lived, he was like 
 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 bau- 
 n'cr,” 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 Yangon 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 culmina¬ 
 ting point of producing causes, and stand forth as the 
 representatives of the times in which they live. 
 
36 
 
 BEYOND THE 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 represent¬ 
 ative man—fully developed and meritorious, but long 
 since enrolled among the noblest of the dead. Rest 
 in peace, great Columbus, thy fame circles the tem¬ 
 ple 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. He wears not borrowed hon¬ 
 ors ; 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 over 
 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 mortal 
 men, shall one be found who has been a greater ben- 
 
DISCOVERY OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. 37 
 
 efactor to mankind than Columbus. His tomb, of 
 right, belongs to this country, and we believe the 
 time will come when his 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 bene¬ 
 factor—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 hi3 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, 4 1 pray thee, then 
 Write me as one who loves his fellow-men.’ 
 
 The a-ngel 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.” 
 
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 investiga¬ 
 ted, and become familiar with the wonderful circum¬ 
 stances with which it is clothed ; its magnitude in¬ 
 creases with every successive contemplation. That 
 a continent as large as Europe and Africa united, 
 extending on both sides of the equator, lying be¬ 
 tween the Western shores of Europe and Africa 
 and the Eastern shore of Asia, with numerous in¬ 
 tervening islands, stopping places on the road of 
 discovery, should have been undiscovered for five 
 thousand years is a mystery beyond human compre¬ 
 hension. It would seem that the All-Wise Ruler of 
 the human family must first see what the nations ol 
 the Old World could do, towards establishing His 
 great humanity upon earth, before the dark curtain 
 which hid its last hope is lifted up. The old intol¬ 
 erant civilization, when weighed in the eternal bal¬ 
 ances of high Heaven, was found wanting. On the 
 
ITS FIRST SETTLEMENT. 
 
 39 
 
 first day of August 1620, a few care-worn English 
 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 
 signed on the 11th of November, 1620, on board the 
 Mayflower, before they landed in Provincetown har¬ 
 bor, after their very precarious voyage, evidently 
 shows a decided intention to establish a government 
 on the basis of equality—to unite iu their code re¬ 
 ligion and liberty, morals and law. The Pilgrims 
 were actuated by that principle which has given 
 the first impulse to the great movements of the mod¬ 
 ern world, “ God and Liberty They had the im¬ 
 perfections of humanity. Those exalted principles 
 were Combined with human weakness. They were 
 mingled with the prejudices and errors of age, coun¬ 
 try and sect; sometimes intolerent, yet always rev¬ 
 erent and sincere. When pressing their wishes to 
 the government and enlisting the favor of some 
 good men to assist thorn in their new undertaking, 
 they put forth the following as their principle 
 
 reason : 
 
40 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 “ We do verily believe and trust that the Lord is 
 with us, unto whom and whose service we have 
 given ourselves in many trials, and that He 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 pow¬ 
 er ; 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 
 World to found a colony, they did plant deep in the 
 fruitful soil the living principles of republican gov 
 eminent for the admiration of mankind. Two hun¬ 
 dred and fifty years has now passed away since this 
 faithful 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- 
 
 
OMAHA. 
 

ITS FIRST SETTLEMENT. 
 
 41 
 
 quering hostile nature towards the setting sun, 
 compelling the cabin of the trapper and the wig¬ 
 wam 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 it¬ 
 self 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 Itailroad 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 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
42 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 crowded great events ot 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 im¬ 
 portance to us, also to the whole family of man. We 
 too often forget (not that we are ungrateful) the be¬ 
 ginnings of what we now are. It becomes the child¬ 
 ren 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 heav¬ 
 en has worked a pair of human lungs. 
 
 “ ’Tis yours to judge how wide tbe 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 continental en- 
 
ITS FIRST SETTLEMENT. 
 
 43 
 
 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! 
 
 And it watches the bed 
 Of the brave who have bled, 
 
 Aud shall guard this wide-spread shore 
 Till the waves of the bay 
 Where the Mayflower lay 
 Shall form and rise no more.” 
 
 % 
 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 W 
 
 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 rea¬ 
 son that what is generally understood by the great 
 productive West, seems to stop this side of the geo¬ 
 graphical centre of the continent North and South. 
 Nature lias drawn the line of demarkation between 
 them. The central rivers of the continent—the Mis- 
 
 * 'v 
 
 sissippi and Missouri—form, to somp 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 
 w r e 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 
 
/ 
 
 WHERE IS THE WEST? 45 
 
 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, 
 ad the States and Territories between the Mississippi 
 and the Rocky Mountains ; and the western, all the 
 States and Territories between the Rocky Moun¬ 
 tains and the Pacific coast. Somewhat the largest 
 of these three great divisions is the central. And, 
 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 Southern, 
 all of tho so-called ‘Eastern’ and ‘Central’ States, 
 and all of tho 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, Wash¬ 
 ington, 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 ‘Fai 
 West,’ is in fact 150 miles east.of the center of the 
 
46 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 Union !” Consequently we can with propriety style 
 
 this book Bevond the Old West. 
 
 %> 
 
 I hope that no American citizen will let an opportu¬ 
 nity pass to make the trans-continental journey; with¬ 
 out it, no one can hare an extended knowledge of 
 his own country, of the great extent of our domain, 
 our wonderful resources and our future destiu}\ 
 
 Chicago is the gathering-iu 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 en¬ 
 joyment 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 hun¬ 
 dred miles, through Northern Illinois and Central 
 Iowa by the Chicago and Northwestern Railway, 
 crossing the Mississippi River about half way. Two 
 more roads further South will soon bo finished— 
 Rock Island and Burlington—which will give Chicago 
 and Omaha three separate lines nearly direct. Oma¬ 
 ha has also communication with the great cominer 
 cial city of St. Louis by the road down the Missouri 
 River to St. Joseph and Kansas City. 
 
WHERE IS THE WEST • 
 
 47 
 
 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 car¬ 
 riages 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 travel¬ 
 ing public. He has associated his name with one of 
 the greatest improvements in railroad travel. These 
 cars are owned by companies and added to the 
 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 appre¬ 
 ciate 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 Irancisco may 
 be made with a pleasure and comfort unequaled 
 heretofore in all the traveler’s dreams. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE NORTHWEST: PASSAGE DISCOVERED. 
 
 Many have been the expeditions fitted out by the 
 old countries and this, to explore the ice-bound re¬ 
 gions 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 no¬ 
 ted expedition was that of Sir John Franklin in 1845 
 with 135 selected men, not one of whom ever return¬ 
 ed ; but all went 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 neighbor¬ 
 hood. If it were not for the ferry at the Pacific 
 end, it would, no doubt, push itself directly there. 
 However, as it is, humanity is brought nearer to¬ 
 gether 5 the old East has moved toward a better 
 reconstruction of humanity. 
 

 
 
 ^ 1 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OMAHA AND NEBRASKA. 
 
 Omaha, the principal city in Nebraska, rises sym¬ 
 metrically from the west bank of the Missouri. You 
 see its majesty of location and its already extended 
 improvement at one view. It being the starting 
 place and headquarters of the Pacific Road, has im¬ 
 parted to thexfity a wonderful development, and it has 
 now a population of 18,000. It has also the river at 
 its command, navigable for two thousand miles in 
 either direction, with the principal work-shops of 
 
 the Railroad and the lines from the other parts of 
 » 
 
 the country centering around it to make their trans¬ 
 shipments. 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 Nebraska presents good 
 inducements to the settler. For more than two 
 hundred miles it is washed by the tributaries of the 
 Platte and Missouri. For some two hundred miles 
 west from the river the land is somewhat rolling, 
 well watered and plenty of wood. This portion 
 of the State is being settled rapidly; well cul- 
 
 
 
50 
 
 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 ele¬ 
 ments of nature. But the humble habitation of the 
 emigrant is passed, and nature for the present, has 
 limited his settlement in this direction. 
 
 / 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE PLAINS. 
 
 “ We cross the prairie as of old 
 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 gatherin the melted snows in summer on this 
 
 slope of the Rocky Mountains are damned and made 
 
 / 
 
 to irrigate this otherwise unproductive soil, as to 
 cereals, fruit and vegetables. But the native grass 
 is strong and nutritious, and pasturage is unbound¬ 
 ed ; 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 moving emi¬ 
 gration, stage travel and prairie schooner freighting. 
 The ranches and stations which were supported by 
 this travel through the country are now abandoned, 
 for the cars carry everybody and everything. 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 
 
52 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 to move back or ahead, or gather at the railroad 
 stations. They are the victims of a higher develop¬ 
 ment; the iron-tongued locomotive calls them back to 
 
 i 
 
 receive that prominent enterprise which she carries 
 along with her through the country for the settler. 
 I noticed that one class of the original inhabitants 
 of this region remained in their old homes without 
 fear or favor, careless and unconcerned as if there 
 had been no change in their land. The prairie dog 
 villages or settlements with their traditional com¬ 
 panions remained as of old. He stood erect on the 
 threshold of his castle, his own picket and scout, 
 enjoying the world as of old, like a gentleman and 
 philosopher. An honest real estate dealer, he con¬ 
 ducts his business upon the principle that inhabit¬ 
 ants are requisite to make a city, and never defrauds 
 unsuspecting victims ; always jovial, frolics merrily 
 with his fellows in the warm sun, making, seeming¬ 
 ly, his life a party of pleasure. There is a belief 
 that the prairie dog willingly gives the owl and 
 rattlesnake a home in his subterranean house. 
 
 I was informed by an old hunter and trapper 
 through the country, who had good opportunities of 
 observation, that the prairie dog consents to share 
 his abode with these ill-assorted denizens through 
 his inability to avoid it. Their villages are on 
 the naked plains, whero there is neither rock for 
 
 i 
 
 k 
 
THE PLAINS. 
 
 53 
 
 the rattlesnake nor shade for the winking eyes of 
 the owl. These idle and impudent foreigners in¬ 
 trude and appropriate to themselves the labors of 
 the industrious little animal which provides himself 
 with a cool shelter from the burning sun, and a 
 comfortable home to shelter him from the storm. 
 Whenever they are driven to seek refuge from sun 
 or storm, they enter unceremoniously and take pos¬ 
 session. 
 
 My now friend mountain man also informed me 
 that the rattlesnake, when other food was not con¬ 
 veniently obtained, would appropriate to himself a 
 young prairie dog, and that the owl waits at the door 
 of its appropriated (without leave) domicil to nab a 
 wandering mouse that might come that way, instead 
 of going after it as an honest owl should do. How¬ 
 ever, they seem friends, for I suppose the would-be 
 lord and master of the household dare not be other¬ 
 wise for fear of ready vengeance. I have seen him 
 when domestic troubles seemed to rack his little red 
 doggish constitution, when it was easy to imagine 
 he looked 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, un¬ 
 less killed outright, will tumble back into their hole. 
 
54 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 ; during winter they remain 
 torpid, shut in their subterranean house, 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 these 
 plains, presenting a great contrast between the rich 
 green prairies of Illinois, Iowa, Missouri and a por* 
 tion 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 ex¬ 
 panse, stretching all around to the horizon. The 
 traveler startles at the thrilling sensation, the illim¬ 
 itable freedom ; his mind and body both seem to 
 have entered another country, expanded as the 
 boundless imagery that is spread in distance around 
 him. 
 
 After many days and weary nights of travel, in 
 the dim outline of distance to the northwest was 
 seen Long’s Peak, clearly defined against ominous 
 black clouds, more than a hundred miles ahead. 
 
 I 
 
THE PLAIN'S. 55 
 
 Next is seen Pike’s Peak ; at length the whole west¬ 
 ern horizon seems bounded with clearly defined 
 mountain ranges, towering up, standing against the 
 sky, large, massive and sublime, having the appear¬ 
 ance of low clouds more than mountains. 
 
 * 
 

 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 sub¬ 
 stantial now than when I visited it before. It has 
 lived through its fast 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 pros¬ 
 perous, wealthy city. Her central location, contigu¬ 
 ous 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 princi¬ 
 pal 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 
 
DENVER CITY. 
 
 57 
 
 these local facilities, and with an enterprising, intel 
 ligent 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 Chey¬ 
 enne, giving her ample railroad advantages. 
 
 \ 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN RANGES. 
 
 Here, from the door of our hotel, we contemplate 
 in wonderful grandeur the mountain ranges, nature’s 
 magnificent panorama, such as never feasted the 
 hard-earned glories of human effort, equaled only 
 by the Great Artist—face to face with God’s won¬ 
 derful yet beautiful handiwork. 
 
 The continental mountains dwell here in magnifi¬ 
 cent proportions, extend themselves in reckless 
 luxuriance of conscious greatness, and invite the 
 aation to her for strength, for wealth, for the most 
 healthful recreation. They may truthfully be called 
 the 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 
 twelvo 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 folded 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 KANGES. 59 
 
 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, with all the characteristics of 
 plains outside the mountain ranges ; 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. 
 
 ' • • 
 
 • / 
 
 t* 
 
 L 
 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 ASCENT OP PIKE’S PEAK. 
 
 As none of the Rocky Mountain Peaks have such 
 universal notority over the country as Pike’s Peak, 
 although not ascending it myself, I have thought 
 proper to give A. D. Richardson’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 of 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 morn¬ 
 ing, led the caravan. Our own party of five, in 
 single file, brought up the rear. We were each 
 
/ 
 
 ASCENT OF PIKE’S PEAK. 61 
 
 provided with a stout cane and a drinking cup. The 
 ladies were in bloomer costume, with broad-rimmed 
 hats and light satchels suspended from their belts. 
 The unhappy trio of men in thick boots and heavy 
 woolen shirts, without coats or waistcoats, carried 
 revolvers, knives, and hatchets, and bent under their 
 heavy packs of provisions and blankets. My own 
 weighed twenty-one pounds and I thought full tweuty- 
 seven hundred before the weary journey was ended. 
 
 The steep narrow canyon, unmarked by any trail, 
 abounded in smooth precipitious rocks, impassable 
 for any quadruped less agile than a mountain goat. 
 Along the bottom of the gorge, a brook leaped and 
 splashed over the rock in a stream of silver. The 
 overlooking hills were thickly studded with shrubs 
 of oak and tall trees of pine, spruce and fir. Wild 
 cherries, hops, and clustering purple berries grew 
 in profusion. 
 
 The valley abounds in gems of beauty, “ pocket 
 editions of poetry in velvet and gold.” 
 
 We made our noon camp at one of these, which 
 would cause the heart of an artist to sing with joy. 
 
 The brook, first appearing in view under a natural 
 stone bridge above us, comes tumbling down in a 
 cascade of snow white foam, torn into sparkling 
 fringes by the jutting rocks, and is lost among the 
 huge boulders at our feet. An irregular mass of 
 
62 
 
 BEYOND THE 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 be¬ 
 yond 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 de¬ 
 fective 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 our advanced party had already 
 halted. Supper was prepared and eaten before a 
 glorious fire of tree trunks; then the deep woods re¬ 
 sounded 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 
 
ASCENT OF PIKE’S PEAK. 63 
 
 smooth grassy valley between. Many of the moun¬ 
 tains 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 moun¬ 
 tain and valley, but the Titan who sat upon it was 
 long ago dethroned in one of nature’s terrible con¬ 
 vulsions, 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 him¬ 
 self. 
 
 A cold rain set in, and at noon, drenched and shiv¬ 
 ering, we encamped under a shelving rock. We kin¬ 
 dled 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 des¬ 
 perate 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 tho 
 roughly saturated, and throughout the afternoon made 
 
64 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 sorry essays at readiDg and whist playing. Early in 
 the evening our robust Colorado friends, who had 
 gone a mile beyond us, passed by on their return, 
 having given up the trip as too severe. We gath¬ 
 ered an ample supply of wood. The dead pines, 
 often six inches in diameter and thirty feet high, 
 were easily overturned; their brittle roots snapping 
 like pipe stems. As the fire was our only solace, 
 we piled .on logs until the red flames leaped high 
 and chased file thiciv 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 brooding upon destiny. The rain 
 became very violent, and the natural roof sloping 
 unfortunately in the wrong direction, showered the 
 water upon us in melancholy profusion. After many 
 dismal jests about our dreary situation, one by one 
 my co-tenants dropped asleep. My own latest recol¬ 
 lection of that procrustean bed was at eleven o’clock, 
 when I was wooing the drowsy god with my legs in 
 a mud puddle, a sharp rock piercing my ribs, and a 
 stream of water pouring down my back. At mid- 
 night my friends arose, for the air had grown very 
 chill, and sought our great log fire. After enjoying 
 for a few minutes the comforts of its red flames, 
 a comfort mitigated by the pelting rain, wrapping 
 myself again in a wet blanket, and creeping as far 
 
ASCENT OF PIKE’S PEAK. 65 
 
 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 flames in glowing 
 contemplation, like Marius amid the ruins. 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 ha'd worn through the soles of her 
 shoes in several places, and both were wet, chilled 
 aud exhausted, but they would not for a moment en¬ 
 tertain the idea of turning back. 
 
 By seven o’clock w r e were again climbing the slip¬ 
 pery rock. The rain ceases, the breaking clouds 
 once more turn 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 mountain summits dotting its vast 
 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 
 first 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. 
 
66 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 The valleys are shaded by graceful aspens, whose 
 leaves quiver in the still air, and carpeted by luxuri¬ 
 ant 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 from 
 our cups and water from a spring. 
 
 Thus far our journey has been only among foot¬ 
 hills. Now we reach the base of the peak itself, 
 and climb wearily up the rocky canyon which extends 
 from base to summit. The thin air makes breathing 
 very difficult. At five o’clock we encamped, utterly 
 exhausted, with wild eyes and flushed faces which 
 excited fears of fever and delirium. The ladies fell 
 asleep the instant we stopped, and one of the mas¬ 
 culines sank upon the ground. Two of us started 
 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 
 
— 
 
 ASCENT OF PIKE’S PEAK. 67 
 
 would only repeat the walk to save his dearest friend 
 from dying. I succeeded in gasping out an injunc¬ 
 tion 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 mountains and vast green . 
 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 vegeta¬ 
 tion we encamped for the night. As we rolled our¬ 
 selves 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. xVll the party wore a lean and hungry 
 look, but our scanty larder allowed to each only a 
 little biscuit, a bit of meat as large as a silver 
 dollar, and an ample draught of tea. At five o’clock 
 we left our packs behind and resumed the march. 
 
 In climbing Mount Washington the vegetation 
 grades down regularly from tall pines to stunted 
 cedar shrubs with trunks five or six inches thick, 
 and branches not more than three feet high, running 
 along like grape vines. 
 
68 BEYOND THE 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 impossi¬ 
 ble to go more than 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 find 
 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 haunts of mountain 
 sheep, an animal of unequaled agility. He leaps 
 incredible distances down the rocks, and is even 
 reputed to strike upon his broad horns, which re 
 ceive tho 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¬ 
 dreds of tulip-shaped blossoms of faint yellow, 
 mingled with purple, opened their meek eyes beside 
 
ASCENT OF PIKE’S PEAK. 
 
 09 
 
 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 tumb¬ 
 ling 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 point 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 foot upon the summit. 
 
Pike’s Peak was named in honor of General Zebu- 
 Ion 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 administration 
 A few years later, before he had reached the prime 
 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 and 
 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 Foun- 
 taine Qui Bouille, the Arkansas and the Huerfano, 
 and then rose the blue Spanish Peaks of New Mexico 
 a hundred miles distant. .Eight or ten miles away 
 
> 
 
72 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 considerable pretensions. Such enormous chasms 
 the armies of the Almighty must have left in heaven 
 when to overcome Lucifer and his companions, 
 
 “ From tlieir 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 Colo¬ 
 rado 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 becoming a critical experiment. Our guide, 
 weakened by the hard journey, missed his foothold, 
 falling upon 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, 
 
1 
 
 ASCENT OF PIKE’S PEAK. 
 
 73 
 
 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 tip on 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 re¬ 
 cruit? She could not articulate a single word, but 
 shook her head with indignant vigor. Again press¬ 
 ing 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 meat and a table¬ 
 spoonful of crumbs each. The unfailing tea measur¬ 
 ably 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 route over hill sides, 
 crossed and recrossed by tracts of grizzly bears, and 
 through canyons surprising us constantly with a 
 
74- BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 1 
 
 * 
 
 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.” Endeav¬ 
 ors 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 in vain we sought to 
 
 “ Cloy the hungry edge of appetite 
 
 By bare imagination of a feast.” , 
 
 At noon we halted by the cascade which had so 
 enchanted us on our first day’s march, and slept for 
 an hour under the shading pines. Then we should¬ 
 ered 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, who, alarmed at our protract¬ 
 ed absence, were out in several parties, armed with 
 stimulants and provisions, searching for us among 
 the foot-hills. 
 
 Two hours later we reached the town. My com 
 
- ASCENT OF PIKE’S PEAK. 75 
 
 panions, with haggard cheeks and blood-shot eyes, 
 seemed but shadowy suggestions of their former 
 selves. Each of the ladies had lost just eight 
 pounds of flesh in less than eight days. One, whose 
 shoes were cut through by sharp rocks early on the 
 journey, had been walking for three days with por¬ 
 tions 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 uncompromis¬ 
 ing hunger which continued at intervals for the next 
 two weeks. If “he is well paid who is well satis¬ 
 fied,” 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 incon¬ 
 venience, “ no evil will thence ensue,” but a pleasure 
 in making it. 1 was informed by a party who had 
 
76 
 
 BEYOND TTTE 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, cushioned- 
 chair, feather-bed country atmosphere faint-hearted¬ 
 ness. But after a few months, getting the lungs ad¬ 
 justed to the new 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 moun¬ 
 tains that the reader might have a full knowledge 
 of their piled up magnificence, nature’s pyramids. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 •THE ROAD TO SOUTH PARK. 
 
 You are invited to go with me to South Park, 
 something over a hundred miles from Denver, 
 passing over on$ of the most interesting roads 
 which penetrate the mountains. 
 
 The pleasant valleys, with their sleepless mean¬ 
 dering 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 forma¬ 
 tions, presenting the appearance of extreme old age, 
 arranged by the operative elements of nature, dur¬ 
 ing long centuries, into beautiful architectural 
 grandeur ; remarkable specimens of detached rock 
 in the monument region, towers and pyramids hun¬ 
 dreds of feet high, scattered thickly over hundreds 
 of acres, in the midst of large trees, 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, 
 presenting a scene of unusual beauty and magnifi 
 
78 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 cence—some located upon bills, like great temples 
 built by human hands. One is known as Table 
 Rock, another Castle Rock, and another as Signal 
 Rock, from signal fires which the Indians formerly 
 built upon it. Capital Rock 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¬ 
 systematic 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 mountains— 
 truly 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 
 
 k . 
 
 the idea of a great mountain cemetery, such as 
 Egyptian kings never built to perpetuate ignorant 
 ambition. Then, too, the^deep canyon, with moun¬ 
 tain walls on either side, and its sparkling waters. 
 Here truly are <l books in the running brooks,” if his¬ 
 tory be true. The view from the entrance to the 
 Park is a landscape of arcadian beauty. Magnifi¬ 
 cent evergreen mountain slopes within the range of 
 vegetable life, with naked tops above, internally 
 
I 
 
 
 
 
 L 
 
 THE ROAD TO SOUTH PARK. 79 
 
 broken into valleys, divided into low ridges, a va¬ 
 riety of hot and cold sulphur springs, healthful for 
 bathing ; rich salt springs, wild game and fish, to- 
 
 f 
 
 gether with an agreeable climate during the summer 
 season, makes this park a 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 
 ot 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 more remarkable combination 
 of plains and mountains ; they come towards each 
 other and mingle like an affectionate family in beau¬ 
 tiful association. Wide fields of prairie open out 
 before the eye, upraise the vision, and magnificent 
 sgowy mountains carry the sight to the clouds. Be¬ 
 tween 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 vscenery 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 day’s journey to day’s journey, ever 
 changing in beautiful alliances. 
 
 , ■* \ % 
 
 
 
 
 / 
 
80 
 
 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 
 not be done, at least till after every body has visit¬ 
 ed 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 tho enthusiastic de¬ 
 scription 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 gener¬ 
 ally known. The salt works here, from which the 
 country is supplied with that necessary article for 
 domestic use, and for mining, is largely manufac¬ 
 tured ; also the hot springs, boiling up from 
 the ground, very strongly impregnated with soda. 
 One has a basin three feet in diameter, rising from 
 the midst of a seeming great rock, like the High 
 Rock Spring, Saratoga, through which a large body 
 
THE ROAD TO SOUTH PARK. 81 
 
 of water gushes up with great force. Coloradians 
 and others mix their flour in this water, without so¬ 
 da 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 pleas¬ 
 ant summer resort in the alluring park. It lies 
 closely in the lap of the mountains ; Mount Lincoln 
 on the northwest to keep sentinel, and protect it 
 from destructive storms, and feed it from its melt¬ 
 ing snows ; while Pike’s Peak on the southeast shad¬ 
 ows 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. Hero 
 vegetation grows much higher up than it does in 
 other parts of the country. In the White Moun¬ 
 tains vegetation stops at an elevation of five thou¬ 
 sand 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 here 
 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 
 
82 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 they departed to the ocean, when the mandate went 
 forth, calling the waters together, are clearly marked, 
 leaving unmistakable evidence, such as oceanic 
 waters always 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 ani¬ 
 mals are found here petrified, such as are only found 
 in salt water. Some 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 up¬ 
 heaval 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 low 
 divides and went back to their mother ocean—leav¬ 
 ing 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 northernmost 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. 
 
THE ROAD TO SOUTH PARK. 83 
 
 I had now been in the mountains sufficiently to 
 learn from personal experience that these towering 
 edifices of nature, though grand and majestic to the 
 eye of the passing traveler, assume still greater pro¬ 
 portions 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 “ 1 can't ,” and “ can." 
 
 “ I can'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. 
 
 “ I can" is a giant; unbending he stands; 
 
 Theie 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. 
 
 11 1 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. 
 
 . “/ can" 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. 
 
 “7 can't" is a coward, half 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. 
 
 “/ can" is a hero, the first in the field; 
 
 Though others may falter, he never will yield ; 
 
 He makes the long marches, he deals the last blow, 
 
 His charge is the whirlwind that scatters the foe. 
 
84 
 
 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, “ I can'' 
 
MONTGOMERY CITY. —MOUNT LINCOLN. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 / r : - . , , * t ( , * 
 
 MOUNT LINCOLN. 
 
 Having procured a guide, 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 expres¬ 
 sion of nature, which terminated at the snow line. 
 Here the field of granulated snow and ice began to 
 enlarge ; soon all kinds of life were left behind—only 
 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 stop¬ 
 ping often to rest the lungs, tired of their expansion 
 
86 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 in inhaling the light air, the heart and lungs now 
 worked as they never did before, shaking our very 
 bodies in their hurry to keep up 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 ex¬ 
 hausted 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 Long’s Peak, and 3,000 
 feet higher than Pike’s Peak. The summit termi¬ 
 nates in a small space, about an acre of loose rocks 
 and ice. 
 
 “ This was the way I long had sought.”j 
 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 magnifi¬ 
 cent view in all my mountain wanderings. It takes 
 a place beside the few natural wonders of the world. 
 Such wonderful sweep of distance, such sublime 
 combination of bight, breadth and depth, such wel¬ 
 come to the immortal thought, uplifting mortal lit¬ 
 tleness almost into the presence of God ! 
 
 “ The world, Jjow far away it seemed, and God, how near!” 
 
 - 
 
 We can easily fancy the genius of solitude sitting 
 for ages on that desolate mountain peak, recording 
 upon its strong, stony tablets uncounted centuries 
 
MOUNT LINCOLN. 87 
 
 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, trans¬ 
 parent brooks and lakes, enclosing slopes of forests, 
 green pastures, together with “Loathe 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 un¬ 
 surpassed extent and varied beauty, worth a journey 
 across the plains. You look over Long’s Peak north 
 to Dacotah ; you survey the hills of Utah to the west, 
 
 s 
 
 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 extended 
 plains appear to be spread out like a great ocean, 
 and seem to rise up like the bosom of the deep, ever 
 conscious of its own immensity. Here the Atlantic 
 and Pacific Oceans met, and here they parted—the 
 ridge pole of the continent north and south, once the 
 dividing line between Kansas and Utah. Here are 
 centered the white folds of four separating moun- 
 
8S 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 tain ranges, ranges of eternal snow. Here tlie 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, ris¬ 
 ing together, go off east and west towards the rising 
 and the setting sun, begin their journey in the eter¬ 
 nal snows of the dividing range. Prom 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, 
 and soon piercing blasts of wind shrieked among 
 the rocks, and snow darkened the air when wo be¬ 
 gan 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 hiss¬ 
 ing 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 
 was 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- 
 
MOUNT LINCOLN. 
 
 89 
 
 people the tables of his law. Black clouds 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 through the clouds, we 
 retraced the tedious hard-going way to the valley, and 
 gained the town in early evening, having traveled 
 about sixteen miles. 
 
 In honor of the President, under whose adminis¬ 
 tration 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 founda¬ 
 tions 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. 
 
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 wagons, 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 the 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 ma¬ 
 jestic nature. 
 
 Our road lay from here down the Blue river six¬ 
 teen 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 PAEK. 91 
 
 day, it would have been passed with much hardship 
 after the crust melted. Some mountain men have 
 
 * * 9 * 
 
 snow shoes about ten feet long, 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 in the hand and drag the other on the snow for 
 bracing, they travel over these snow fields with ease 
 and rapidity. 
 
 The valley is narrow, descends for sixteen miles, 
 some places but a little wider than the river, with 
 mountain peaks going up sharply on either side, 
 clothed in snow. 
 
 This country 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 towns— 
 but now on leaving Breckenridge, reluctantly how¬ 
 ever, as spring supplies had not then arrived, we 
 were obliged to set up house keeping for ourselves 
 and 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, jack¬ 
 knife and a pair of blankets is a fair setting out in 
 this country, for the most respected and wealthy, for 
 
BEYOND TIIE WEST. 
 
 92 
 
 those that move in the best society. Being thus 
 furnished and supplied, we go out somewhat after 
 the manner of the “ prodigal son”—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 ir¬ 
 regularities 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 
 are ranges thickly wooded, and still further on are 
 the ranges which bound the park and enclose it in 
 eternal snows. The sun is warm, and some of the 
 valleys are rich with grass, yet the toiyist seems to 
 breathe in tlie prevailing impression of a certain kind 
 of etintedness. 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 Ioiver 
 valleys and along Grand River in summer, where 
 
THE MIDDLE PARK. 
 
 93 
 
 animals 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 Indians; 
 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 th$ir 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 
 thefr village, on their hospitality, all danger was 
 passed while with them. Begging and good fellow¬ 
 ship was manifest everywhere, always “ heap hungry,” 
 ever begging. Yet mountain and streams are at 
 your disposal, should they bo 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 at¬ 
 traction, together with good hunting and fishing, 
 and with an unusually healthy air, makes it an 
 
 s 
 
94 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 inviting resort for the pleasure seeker and the in¬ 
 valid. They are a curiosity and a virtue, are now a 
 considerable resort for Coloradians and others in the 
 summer season, and when a r more practicable road 
 is made 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 aim and other parts of the body 
 a little at a time, you soon get accustomed to the 
 heat and the fall, and the experience is unusually 
 exhilarating. The invigorating effects are remark¬ 
 able; no lassitude, no unpleasant feelings as is ex¬ 
 perienced 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 
 healthful luxury twice a day, morning and evening, 
 
1 
 
 r—“—~ _ — 
 
 THE MIDDLE PARK. 95 
 
 during their stay here; making the old growyounger 
 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 here; 
 petrifactions, jaspers and crystals are scattered all 
 about, but the celebrated “ moss-agate patch” lies a 
 dozen miles away over the river where this beauti- 
 ful'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 r&gretfully we took a 
 long lingering look behind at the Hot Springs as 
 
96 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 we go over to the Boulder Pass, and leave the fasci¬ 
 nating 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 footdiills 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. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 NORTH PARK. 
 
 The North Park is separated from the one we 
 have just left by a high 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 growth looks as though it was struggling 
 against the frowns of nature. It gives to the wolves, 
 antelopes, bears, deers and smaller wild animals a 
 more secure home than the more frequented parks 
 below. They have but few enemies here, save the 
 red men, and them only in summer ; old winter and 
 
 the bears have undisputed possession during that 
 
 / 
 
 season. 
 
 Through 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 numer¬ 
 ous 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 
 
98 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 unbroken; they will have the original principles in 
 their fullness. If a party of six or more, wishing to 
 spend the summer in the mountains, would rendez¬ 
 vous 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 wonderful unlike experi¬ 
 ences of unalloyed pleasure, than to start from the 
 north part of the North Park and go through the 
 whole line of these incarcerated mountain parks, a 
 distance of more than five hundred miles from San 
 Louis Park, below the Arkansas in New Mexico. 
 This journey could be made leisurely during the 
 summer months, and those who want to have a sum¬ 
 mer 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 regardless of time, or being 
 fixed up in a conventional hotel, with freedom for 
 thought and action, looseness, and let loose to go un¬ 
 bridled to the outer world, only to return with 
 established health and increased knowledge. But 
 you will lose some little home notions, for which your 
 wife would be thankful, (should you be troubled with 
 
NORTH TARK. 
 
 99 
 
 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 found in Middle Park Professor Powell, ot Illi- . 
 nois, at the head of a scientific exploring expedi¬ 
 tion. The party was made up of a dozen or more 
 young meu, interested in various departments of 
 natural science, giving their time and labor for the 
 enterprise, and for the benefits thoy expected to 
 derive from it—information and health. They were , 
 spending the summer in the parks and mountains 
 adjoining, taking notes with barometer and ther¬ 
 mometer, aud collecting all the vegetable produc¬ 
 tions, animals, birds and fish. The field of observation 
 and investigation undertaken by this enterprise is 
 important to the scientific world. They have before 
 them an almost unbounded fiold of study in physical 
 geography, geology and natural history, as they in 
 tend to explore the great western division of Colo¬ 
 rado, now comparatively unknown. But few have 
 crossed it! Adventurous miners havo penetrated 
 into some of its valleys, but it has no real popula 
 tion, and is unknown as much or more so than any 
 other part of our country. The mountain range? 
 lean down through it into the great interior bosom 
 of the farther southwest, instead of breaking off, as 
 
100 EEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 they do, abruptly on the eastern side. The rivers 
 Grand, White, Green 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 basins 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 what it con¬ 
 tains 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 ar¬ 
 ticle, in a condensed form, my impressions ,and 
 knowledge obtained while here. 
 
CHAPTER XY. 
 
 Colorado’s mining resources. 
 
 As a mining country Colorado dates from 1858. 
 In the summer of that year a few prospecters from 
 Kansas and Georgia explored the country up the 
 Arkansas river. When more than two hundred 
 miles from the mountains 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 
 fine quality. These parties, returning in the fall, 
 gave publicity to their discoveries. Mole hills mag¬ 
 nified into gold mountains. The excitement spread 
 rapidly over the country, and the next season a large 
 emigration of Pike’s Peakers moved in that direction. 
 Soon other rich developments were made, the ex¬ 
 citement increased, and emigration moved rapidly 
 towards the new Eldorado of the West. From that 
 time to the present mining has been prosecuted with 
 
102 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 varying success. Like rich mining countries every 
 
 where, it has been the scene of extravagant hopes, 
 
 and also the scene of extravagant disappointments. 
 
 Many have realized all or more than their best 
 
 hopes, while others, and far the larger number, have 
 
 # 
 
 been wonderfully disappointed. The country, how¬ 
 ever, 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 the 
 States, and every important place in them are rep¬ 
 resented, and all are engaged in the same absorbing 
 subject of conversation. The seat of empire, in 
 traveling to this country, changed its base from 
 soul to money-getting. Gold before breakfast, at 
 breakfast and after breakfast, together with 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 in mine. Mountain mining 
 life, soon rubs off the veneering of good home influ¬ 
 ences, and we see of what material men are made. 
 
COLORADO'S MINING RESOURCES. 103 
 
 There is a savage fascination in Rocky Mountain 
 life, in its isolation, lawlessness and danger. 
 
 The law of self-preservation is strong in the moun¬ 
 tains. “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 whicluis 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 uncer¬ 
 tain era when “ to be or not to be, 5 ' was an unsolved 
 problem. The loose surface washings of uncertain¬ 
 ty 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 develop¬ 
 ments 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 
 
BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 104 
 
 population and prosperity, and it is now nearly as 
 
 large as Denver. The first mills to crush quartz and 
 
 work the ore were erected and put in operation here, 
 
 and they have continued work the most of the time, 
 
 giving to their owners a liberal return for their 
 
 / 
 
 money, some largely so. This place, Empire, and 
 Georgetown in South Clear Creek Yalley, seem to 
 he 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 reduc¬ 
 ing the ores, their owners have put them in opera¬ 
 tion, somewhat simplified, using more economy in 
 their working. About one hundred and thirty mills 
 ' are working, producing near forty-five thousand dol¬ 
 lars gold per week, at a cost for mining and milling 
 of about two-thirds. The discovery aud 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 success¬ 
 ful mining locality in the country; the head center 
 of silver mining. The ores from the leading mines 
 average from one hundred to eight hundred per ton. 
 Two mills are now working at Georgetown on silver 
 ores; one works the second class ore, that which will 
 
/ 
 
 COLORADO’S MINING RESOURCES. 105 
 
 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 manage¬ 
 ment more than pays the freight, which is forty dol¬ 
 lars 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 mines, 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 his 
 tour by the Snake and Blue Rivers to the Middle of 
 
106 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 South Park, he shonld certainly make this excursion 
 from Georgetown. Central City and 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 be¬ 
 cause 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 will bring good results 
 out of many of these investments, 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 mining 
 
COLORA-DO’S MINING- RESOURCES. 
 
 107 
 
 or dirt washing, is increasing again, and has em¬ 
 ployed full three hundred men 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 Upper Platte'in South Park, and on the Up¬ 
 per Arkansas and its side valleys. They have 
 averaged twelve dollars a day 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 re¬ 
 sumed in a more systematic, intelligent, and econo¬ 
 mical 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 comp 
 to these mountains 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 surface, and it is yet a problem whether they 
 
108 
 
 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 no limit, in fact, to the 
 growth of the mineral wealth of Colorado, for the 
 business is now taken hold of in the right way, pur¬ 
 sued 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 fifteen 
 to fifty dollars worth of the metals per ton, and the 
 only 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 
 mills must do the work; here quartz mines are more 
 extensive and richer than those of California, less 
 free gold. The great mountain deposits are almost 
 unattached; whereas, in California free gold 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 ample 
 return for the capital invested. 
 
Colorado’s mining resources. 109 
 
 During the several years of Colorado’s mining life, 
 she has taken from her mines and shipped east, an¬ 
 nually, not less than two millions of gold in any one 
 year, and from that up to eight and ten millions in 
 some years. With such results, under such circum¬ 
 stances, who will presume to estimate the future 
 wealth that is to flow from this country. 
 
 The fact that quartz-crushing machinery processes 
 
 v 
 
 are inadequate for the reduction of the rich ores 
 which are here deposited, and that capital is re¬ 
 quired to go down in the mines and bring up the 
 hidden treasures of the eternal hills, is now thoroughly 
 established. The time is now at hand, since the 
 completion of the railway, when these hills and 
 mountain valleys will amply reward labor and capital, 
 by yielding the cheerful gift of valuable shining 
 
 bars. 
 
 These mountains were found to be too valuable 
 to be longer left for the exclusive occupation of the 
 red man. He must give place to a more useful life— 
 to working intelligent labor. The fullness of time 
 had come with them. The desirable, useful treasures 
 of this region were not to be forever useless, their 
 mysterious deposits forever unlocked. But Greece 
 must destroy Troy, and Rome Carthage, and the 
 powerful nations of the north, Rome, and they too 
 must perish, or be absorbed in their turn; if they 
 
: j 
 
 110 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 suffer themselves to be left behind on tue upward 
 and onward march of a higher and more noble civil¬ 
 ization which was soon to dawn upon this world. 
 
 * 
 
r 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 AGRICULTURAL RESOURCES OF COLORADO. 
 
 On my first visit todhis country in 1865, after ex¬ 
 tensive 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 surround¬ 
 ing country one great barren waste, except for pas¬ 
 turage. 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 unre¬ 
 claimed nature. Now shade trees (so necessary to 
 comfort here,) are growing in their strength and 
 beauty, and gardens and dooryards made green with 
 
112 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 grass, and gardens filled with useful and necessary 
 vegetables. As agriculture is the under stratum 
 upon which all other interests rest—the “ philoso¬ 
 pher’s stone,” to which all must come for their very 
 existence—T viewed this land’s resurrection with un¬ 
 usual interest and pleasure. 
 
 Colorado is so located as to form a substantial cen¬ 
 ter 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 hero in 
 their majestic proportions; spreading themselves 
 round with a conscious greatness and a wantonuess 
 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, capablo 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 irri¬ 
 gation, of which the streams offer good facilities for 
 successful, remunerative farming, while the higher 
 
 ____. -t - J 
 
AGRICULTURAL RESOURCES OF COLORADO. 113 
 
 lands 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 foot-hills without irrigation; this 
 only when the season is termed wet, and is uncer¬ 
 tain. The bottom lan^s are a rich alluvial deposit, 
 brought down from the mountains, and when properly 
 cultivated will give ad 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 tLie 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, the 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 on a rough scale, and it is 
 only the remarkable fertility of the soil that permits 
 
114 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 it to be profitable, for the people are indolent, igno¬ 
 rant 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 'nights are 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; 
 holds out large inducements 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 the winter months. 
 Most of the plains are not properly a worthless des¬ 
 ert, but are nature’s great continental pasture ground. 
 
AGRICULTURAL RESOURCES OF COLORADO. 115 
 
 National and individual wealth will y$t be found 
 in the grazing capabilities of these plains, spread 
 out as they are, trom 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 ex- 
 istance on this big clearing. The Indians are now 
 the only hindrance to the easy and profitable farm* 
 ing 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 OP COLORADO. 
 
 Life 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 moun¬ 
 tains, 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 majestic plain, 
 under pure and unclothed skies, and in this invigo¬ 
 rating 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 foun¬ 
 tain 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 taken 
 to any part of the globe without injury. I saw some 
 
 I 
 
THE CLIMATE OF COLORADO. 117 
 
 persons, supposed to be hopelessly consumptive, ablo 
 
 0 
 
 only to travel in wagons, lying upon feather beds, 
 who, after crossing the plains and living in the moun¬ 
 tains a while, recovered, so that they enjoyed a com¬ 
 fortable degree of health for years after. High 
 
 regions and invigorating air, away from salt water, 
 
 * 
 
 seems to be precisely what is needed. 
 
 • 4 
 
 The climate varies with the altitude, and is salu¬ 
 brious and invigorating at any hight; 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 constitu¬ 
 tional vigor. Lung diseases, which in low country 
 climates are so common and often so fatal, are almost 
 surely cured in this high and 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 fountains of 
 health in exhilarating air, in nature’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 Mountains. 
 
 The climate of that portion lying east of the moun¬ 
 tains is delightful and healthy. The frosts come 
 
118 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 early in the autumn and continue far 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. 
 
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 settle¬ 
 ments have been quite large as to agriculture, stock- 
 raising and mining. These interests are now grow¬ 
 ing 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 to 
 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 Butterfield and others, across the continent, 
 ran through this entire territory and fixed a line of 
 
120 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 civilization, which has branched off to some extent 
 through the country, and kept in various ways to- 
 wards settlement. The seed thus planted is growing 
 up into the harvest. 
 
 The general surface of the country is uneven, 
 badly broken. The stupendous Rocky Mountain 
 ranges tower up in all their continental 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 fer¬ 
 tile valleys. The most important of these is the 
 Rio Grande, which is the principal stream of the ter¬ 
 ritory, and is navigable in places for a distance of 
 1,800 miles; starting in a deep canyon, plowed out 
 of the granite rock pn the side of “ Mount Lincoln,” 
 in the eternal snows of the central range, and cross¬ 
 ing the whole territory of New Mexico, from north 
 to south. 
 
 You will recollect that it was along this river 
 that the Mexican war commenced with the United 
 States, by conflicts between the Mexican army, under 
 the command of General Ampudia and the army 
 under General Taylor. 
 
 ( 
 
NEW MEXICO GENERALLY. 121 
 
 This valley is from one to fifteen miles wide, is 
 capable of supporting a population large enough for 
 a small State. The bottom lands are remarkably 
 productive; also the low sloping foot-hills, with a 
 light gravelly soil, when irrigated and properly till¬ 
 ed, give a growth of almost 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 
 Vallejos will produce, and can be depended upon like 
 a hot-bed. 
 
 But eleven years ago, this large territory was ac¬ 
 quired 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 ex¬ 
 istence ; a wooden plow made of a forked tree, such 
 as was used on the plains of Syria, and in Persia, 
 

 
 
 122 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, wittr small narrow win¬ 
 dows, low doors and flat 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, pro¬ 
 bably a silver mining town destroyed two centuries 
 
 
 
 — 
 
e 
 
 NEW MEXICO GENERALLY. 123 
 
 ago, when the natives drove out or killed all the in¬ 
 habitants. 
 
 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 Mission¬ 
 aries found in New Mexico Indians who raised 
 cotton, manufactured cloth, and lived iD towns with 
 streets, having dwellings like the present Pueblos 
 Indians. The founders of these towns were of that 
 remarkable order, whose unflagging energy and per¬ 
 fect organization achieved such conquests over all 
 that country. Remains ot old Jesuit Missions are 
 scattered through California, Arizona, New Mexico, 
 Old Mexico, and Central 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 
 
124 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 tradition says was built three centuries ago. The 
 streets, like those of Santa Fe and other places, 
 are crooked and narrow, and like most towns 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 im¬ 
 mense 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 lead nearly as heavy as themselves 
 over long mountain ranges, following each other, in 
 Indian file, through the narrow trail, over most dif¬ 
 ficult 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 
 on between the settlements. 
 
'I -- 
 
 NEW MEXICO GENERALLY. 125 
 
 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 hdrses, mules and cattle would 
 serve him thankfully for giving them so good a home. 
 He is a Kentuckian by birth, of most excellent na¬ 
 tural abilities, but of very limited education; read¬ 
 ing with difficulty, and writing very little beyond 
 his own name. However, he speaks, several lan¬ 
 guages fluently; English, French, Spanish and several 
 Indian tongues, acquired orally. His long life of 
 many years, away from civilization, as hunter, trapper* 
 and guide, had not deprived him of the natural in¬ 
 stincts of a gentleman; honorable and simple-hearted, 
 beloved by Americans, Mexicans and Indians. When 
 he guided General Fremont, on his long and peril¬ 
 ous expeditions, he held a lieutenant’s commission 
 in our army. He 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. 
 
126 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 The middle and southern portion of the territory 
 contain large quantities ot 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 
 soutliseemto 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 
 Mexicans. But since it changed owners, military 
 
NEW MEXICO GENERALLY. ^ 127 
 
 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 hunt¬ 
 ing grounds of their mysterious medicine. The prin¬ 
 cipal damage they now do, is to run off stock, which 
 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 be¬ 
 lieved by some, who have carefully examined’ 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- 
 
128 
 
 BEYOND THE 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 have been worked centu¬ 
 ries ago. The precious metals, gold, silver, copper, 
 iron and zinc, are known to be very liberally distri¬ 
 buted in large quantities over the county. Wher¬ 
 ever 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. Thero can be no doubt 
 but that Ne\v Mexico will become one of the very 
 best mining sections of this country. The climate 
 favors work remarkably. The whole year is much 
 more favorable to these interests here than farther 
 north. 
 
 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 inhab¬ 
 itants never die; but lean, attenuated and wrinkled, 
 like Egyptian mummies, dry up ultimately and are 
 blown away. 
 
 The climate varies with the altitude, and is very 
 
 . i 
 
NEW MEXICO GENERALLY. 
 
 129 
 
 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 snow, 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 seasons 
 are not any more than is agreeable and congenial to 
 health and comfort. The sky is generally clear and 
 the atmosphere dry. Pulmonary complaints are not 
 known. The diseases are few ; none but those oc¬ 
 casionally contracted by lying too much out on the 
 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 num¬ 
 bers of mules, to supply the demand North for them. 
 Large portions of the high plains, low hills and val¬ 
 leys are covered with nutritious grasses, sufficient 
 for the pasturage of millions of animals the whole 
 year, as they require no more care in winter than in 
 summer. 
 
 
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 buffalo- 
 hood. 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 ho is the 
 first who speaks of that animal, which he calls “ a 
 
 i , • • 
 
 l... Z - -- ~ 
 
THE BUFFALOES. 
 
 131 
 
 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 passing over a mountain range, 
 we would come unexpectedly upon a herd of these 
 noble animals feeding in the valley, generally L 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,) wime a party of men arc on the 
 ridge, stripping themselves and their horses of all un¬ 
 necessary appendages which might hinder their run¬ 
 ning; hats and coats 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 on the game in the 
 
132 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 valley. When all are ready, the party move carefully 
 and slowly down a long ravine to within a short dis¬ 
 tance of the unsuspecting herd before being dis¬ 
 covered. 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 dashed 
 along through the thundering, concentrated mass, 
 as they swept away from 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 win¬ 
 ter meat, and as thur hunt lay in the direction we 
 
 i 
 
THE BUFFALOES. 
 
 133 
 
 war going, we joined in. The oldNez Perce chief, 
 Kow-e-so-te, had command of the village, and we 
 trappers had to obey him, too. We started off 
 slow; nobody war allowed to go ahead of camp. 
 
 “ In 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 Mis¬ 
 souri Lake, and by the time we got thar the whole 
 plain around the lake war covered with buffalo, and 
 it Avar a splendid sight! 
 
 “ In the morning the old chief harangued the men 
 of his village, and ordered us all to get ready for 
 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 warm! 
 A thousand men, all trained hunters, on horseback, 
 carrying their guns, and, with their horses, painted 
 in the highest of Indian fashion. We 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 Avar all moving, and Ave 
 had come Avithin a hundred yards of them. Koav-o- 
 so-te then gave us the Avorcl and away Ave Avent pell- 
 mell. Heaven, Avhat a charge! What a rushing 
 and roaring ! men shooting, buffalo belloAving and 
 trampling until the earth shook under them. 
 
 
134 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 “ It war the work of an hour to slay two thousand, 
 or perhaps three thousand animals. When the 
 work war over we took a survey of the field. Here 
 and there and everywhere layed the slain buffalo. 
 Occasionally a horse with a broken leg war seen, or 
 a man with a broken arm, or maybe he had fared 
 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 big 
 
 job, but wo were not long about it. By night the 
 
 camp war full of meat and everybody merry. 
 
 ♦ 
 
 Bridgets camp, which-war passing that way, traded 
 with the village for fifteen hundred buffalo tongues, 
 the tongues being reckoned a choice part of the an¬ 
 imal. And that is the way we helped the Nez 
 Perces hunt buffalo.” 
 
 “ But when you were hunting for your own sub¬ 
 sistence in camp you sometimes went out in small 
 parties.” 
 
 “ Oh ! yes, it war the same thing on a smaller 
 scale. One time Kit Carson and m} T self and a lit¬ 
 tle Frenchman named Marteau, went ,to run buffalo 
 on Powder River. When Are come in sight of the 
 band it Avar agreed that Kit and the Frenchman 
 should do the running and I should .stay Avith the 
 pack mules. The weather Avar \ T ery cold, and I did 
 not like my part of the duty much. 
 
THE BUFFALOES. 
 
 135 
 
 “ 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 
 Frenchman 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—1, said I. I should rather pack a load 
 of meat.” 
 
 “ Waal,” said Kit, “ I’ll butcher if you’ll go over 
 and see, anyhow.” 
 
 “ So I went over and found the dead man leaning 
 his head on his hand and groaning, for he war pret¬ 
 ty 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 iob and started 
 
 back to camp with our wounded Frenchman and three 
 
 % 
 
 loads of fat meat.” 
 
136 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 •“ You were, not very compassiouat.e 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 account, by the wanton recklessness with 
 which it was often taken. To the unsophisticated, 
 the savage way by which real or imaginary inju¬ 
 ries were redressed often by these veterans of the 
 mountains, would freeze up any warnc^ sympathetic 
 heart. These men get so in the habit of killing that 
 it seems but little to them whether a man or a buf¬ 
 falo 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 soon suc¬ 
 ceeded in producing the desired illusion. This lit¬ 
 tle chart over which I bent was seen in all its parts, 
 
 t 
 
-—-—- -- * _ 
 
 
 THE BUFFALOES. 137 
 
 as nothing but the green and vivid reality. I was 
 lifted up as upon an 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 speck¬ 
 led with the grazing bands of buffaloes.’ 7 
 
 “ The world turned gently round and I examined 
 its surface. Continent after continent passed un¬ 
 der my eye, and yet, amidst them all, I saw not the 
 vivid green that is spread like a carpet over the 
 Western wilds of my own country. 1 saw not else¬ 
 where in the world the myriad herds of buffaloes— 
 my eyes scanned in vain, for they were not—and when 
 
 1 turned again to the wilds of my native land, I be¬ 
 held them all in motion! For the distance of several 
 hundred miles from north to south they were wheeling 
 about in vast columns and herds. Soi^e were scattered 
 and 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 sighs; and others were contending in 
 furious battle for the life they possessed and the 
 ground they stood upon. They had long since as 
 
 
 
 
138 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 sembled from the thickets and the secret haunts of 
 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 dart¬ 
 ing 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 rushed 
 along their sides, I saw the glistening lances which 
 seemed to lay across them! 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, from 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 ex¬ 
 tended 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 watch¬ 
 word amongst them. In their turmoil they sent up 
 
THE BUFFALOES. 
 
 139 
 
 great clouds of dust, and with them came the min¬ 
 gled din of groans and trampling hoofs, that seemed 
 like the rumbling of a dreadful cataract or the roar¬ 
 ing of distant thunder. Alternate pity and admira¬ 
 tion harrowed up in my bosom and in my brain many 
 a hidden thought, and amongst them a few of the 
 beautiful notes that were once sung and exactly in 
 point. Quadrupedante patrum sonitu quatit ungvLa 
 campum. Even such was the din of these quadru¬ 
 peds of these vast plains. And from the craggy 
 cliffs of the Rocky Mountains were seen descending 
 into 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 
 flayed, and their reddened carcasses left, and about 
 them 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 men’s luxury! where they were all sold 
 for whisky, and the poor Indians laid drunk and were 
 crying. I cast my eyes into the towns and cities of 
 the East, and there I beheld buffalo robes hanging 
 at almost every door for traffic; and I saw also the 
 curling smoke of a thousand stills, and I said, Oh ! 
 insatiable man, is thy avarice such ? wouldst thou 
 
140 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 rather a melancholy contemplation for one 
 who has traveled in these realms, seen, and can ap¬ 
 preciate, 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 only place left on the con¬ 
 tinent 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 beautymnd 
 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 spe¬ 
 cimens of the native animals they would be for 
 America to preserve in one of the great national 
 parks here in the mountains, where her refined citi¬ 
 zens, 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- 
 
 » 
 
 ( 
 
THE BUFFALOES. 
 
 IT 
 
 141 
 
 riod, which is not far distant, when the last of the 
 buffalo shall fall before the improvident rapacity of 
 both white and red men, leaving much of their new 
 feeding grounds unstocked and unpeopled for future 
 ages. While the buffalo is heavy, full of clumsiness 
 and awkward, just the antipodes of the incarnate 
 ease and grace of the swift moving antelope, they 
 present a pleasing contrast; especially so when seen 
 near each other. 
 
 Hunters sometimes stick their ramrods in the 
 ground, tie a handkerchief on it and then secrete 
 themselves. The unsuspecting antelope, with a 
 curiosity as fatal as mother Eve, circles nearer and 
 nearer imtil he falls by the well directed bullet. No 
 animal has a more remarkable curiosity than this ; 
 when first seen they will run rapidly off and then come 
 back to make the acquaintance of those by whom 
 they, were frightened. The wolves are said to chase 
 them in a circle, thus enabling a fresh pursuer to 
 take the place of the weary one every time they pass 
 the starting point; fleetness falls a victim to cun¬ 
 ning, and the antelope soon furnishes a meal for the 
 hungry pack. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ARIZONA—BOUNDARIES — EARLY 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 neigh¬ 
 boring 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 Colora¬ 
 do River District, gives but a very limited idea of 
 its territory ; which is necessary to a proper under¬ 
 standing 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 re¬ 
 ports of the rich mineral wealth of the new country, 
 caused for the time a large emigration. In 1710 re* 
 
! 
 
 AKIZOJSTA. 143 
 
 ft 
 
 n«wed 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. Civ¬ 
 ilization of course disappeared, and at the time of 
 the purchase the territory contained scarcely any 
 white population. 
 
 The remains of that civilization may be seeu in 
 deserted ranches and adobe houses in towns and vil¬ 
 lages, in a system of agriculture and mining. Wo 
 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 use¬ 
 fulness the locked up treasures of the mountains, 
 and make the valleys bring forth abundantly for the 
 use of all. 
 
 The territory is quite accessible from Los Ange¬ 
 los, on the Pacific coast, across California, and is re- 
 
1 u 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 markably well timbered and watered. The upper 
 branches of the Colorado penetrate the whole north¬ 
 ern 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 United 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 readi¬ 
 ly adapt themselves to the improved conditions of 
 life with which the) 7 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 com¬ 
 bined 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, miners or 
 
ARIZONA. 
 
 146 
 
 traders, will never regret the choice they have 
 made. It is supposed, and I believe correctly, that 
 the Rio Grande valley offers settlement to 50,000 
 people, within the Arizona boundaries. West of 
 this the country is broken, a succession of table 
 lands moderately ascending for nearly a hundred 
 miles to the Sierra Mad re Mountains ; from there 
 gently descending until they reach the Gulf of Cali¬ 
 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 prolongation 
 of those ranges which have yielded silver so largely, 
 northward in Nevada and extend southward in So¬ 
 nora, Chihuahua and Durang, which have given 
 millions of silver for centuries past to astonish the 
 world by their massive returns of the precious ores. 
 Arizona has now been prospected and developed 
 sufficiently to prove, beyond a peradventure, that 
 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 undis¬ 
 turbed by volcanic action. The ores are more easi¬ 
 ly 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 
 
146 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 quartz*leacl formation. Experienced miners and 
 skilled metallurgists,who had examined portions 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 sec¬ 
 tions prospected, to make it certain that .this branch 
 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; in¬ 
 deed, it is nearly the whole year. Fruits blossom in 
 February and March, and nature generally is in her 
 summer costume. Cotton, wheat, corn, barley, to¬ 
 bacco, grapes, peaches, and all the variety of vege¬ 
 tables grow and yield largely. There is a native 
 Mexican grape here, grown largely in the Rio 
 Grande valley, which has few superiors anywhere, 
 and is introduced largely in California both for home 
 use and for wine. 
 
 R. C. McCormick, Secretary of the Territory, af¬ 
 ter traveling over the country extensively, speaks 
 of its agricultural capabilities in the following lan¬ 
 guage : 
 
 i 
 
ARIZONA. 147 
 
 “ 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 in¬ 
 ducements to thtose 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 summer heat and makes it warmer in 
 winter, imparting 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, 
 
148 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 as the Territorial Legislature organized and divided 
 it into four counties, naming them after four lead¬ 
 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 hopo to 
 make, I give it in his own language : 
 
 PIMA COUNTY. 
 
 This county is bounded on the east by the line of 
 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 longi¬ 
 tude, and on the south by the Sonora line. The seat 
 of justice is established at Tucson. 
 
 Pima County embraces all of “ the Gadsden Pur¬ 
 chase” 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 known 
 portion of Arizona. This comes from its early set¬ 
 tlement, the development ol its mines, and the ex¬ 
 tensive travel through its length during the running 
 of the Southern or Butterfield Overland Mail. Its 
 silver mines are among the richest upon the con¬ 
 tinent. Some of them have been worked for cen¬ 
 turies, and if they have not constantly yielded a 
 large return, it has been more from a lack of pru¬ 
 dent management or the incursions of hostile Indians, 
 
ARIZONA. 
 
 149 
 
 than from any defect in the quality or quantity of 
 the ore, or in the facilities for extracting and work¬ 
 ing the same. Tiie ores are chiefly argentiferous 
 galena, and are best adapted to smelting. The cop¬ 
 per 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 ox- 
 ydes and gray sulphurets. 
 
 Wood and water, if not immediately at hand, may 
 usually be had at a convenient distance. The Santa 
 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 mes- 
 quit, and of a large size; for railroads and mining 
 purposes it is well adapted, and must be of incalcu¬ 
 lable value; for building purposes it is too hard and 
 crooked. The cotton wood is found on the margin 
 of all streams; it is of rapid growth, and well adapt¬ 
 ed for building. The adobe, or sunburnt brick, is, 
 however, the favorite building material. It is easily 
 and inexpensively made, and, laid in thick walls, 
 furnishes an enduring and comfortable house, better 
 suited to the climate than any other. 
 
 The agricultural and pasture lands of Pima County 
 are very extensive. The valleys of the Gila, the 
 Santa Cruz, the San Pedro, and other streams, are 
 
150 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 extensive, and equal in fertility to any agricultural 
 districts of the United States. The San Pedro val¬ 
 ley, over one hundred miles in length, is, perhaps, 
 the best farming district south of the Gila Piver. 
 The Sonsita valley, which opens into the Santa 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 lands of Pima County are covered with 
 a short and luxurious grass, upon which immense 
 herds of cattle have been and still maybe raised; 
 and the grazing districts include many of the moun¬ 
 tain 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 been much improved, and the recent opening 
 ol several rich mines in close proximity to the town, 
 will give it increased business and importance. Its 
 population is largely Spanish, and the same may be 
 said of all the settlements in this county. Other 
 
 I 
 
I 
 
 ARIZONA. 
 
 151 
 
 towns in the mining districts south of Tucton and 
 Tubac, and on the Gila River, are becoming of con¬ 
 sequence as the agricultural and mineral develop¬ 
 ment 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 route goods and ma¬ 
 chinery might be speedily and economically receiv¬ 
 ed. 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 everyone 
 living in or interested in Southern Arizona, that our 
 government will, by negotiation (if coming events do 
 not afford other means,) soon secure either the port 
 of Libertad or Guaymas, or both. Indeed, the geo¬ 
 graphical relations of the State of Sonora to Arizona, 
 and our access to the Pacific, are such that its acqui¬ 
 sition 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 du¬ 
 ties imposed in Sonora, although entirely practicable, 
 
152 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 involves much more overland travel, and consequent' 
 
 | : 
 
 ly increased delay and expense. 
 
 YUMA COUNTY. 
 
 This county is bounded on 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 
 junction with Williams’ Fork; thence by the middle 
 of the main channel of said stream to the junction of 
 
 II. . 
 
 the Colorado River; on the west by the main chan¬ 
 nel of the Colorado, and on the south by the Sono¬ 
 ra line. 
 
 The seat of justice is established at La Paz. Of 
 the two counties upon the Colorado, (Yuma and Mo¬ 
 jave,) this has at present the largest population. 
 Until 1862, it was comparatively unknown for any 
 distance 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- 
 
AHIZONA. 
 
 153 
 
 ners and prospecters 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. As yet its settlements are all upon the 
 river. La Paz, the chief of these, is a busy commer¬ 
 cial town of adobe buildings, with a population about 
 equally American and Spanish. It has some stores 
 that would not do discredit to San Francisco, and en¬ 
 joys a large tThde, extending up and down the river 
 and to Central Arizona. 
 
 Castle Dome, Mineral City, and Olive City, all up¬ 
 on the Colorado, 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 silver ores of Yuma County are mostly argen¬ 
 tiferous 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. 
 
154: BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 A quicksilver mine discovered near La Paz is ai 
 tracting considerable attention in San Francisco. 
 
 The face of Yuma County is for the most part 
 mountainous and barren, although the Colorado hot 
 tom, and occasional valleys, are fertile, and the Indi¬ 
 ans have fine crops. Wood sufficient for fuel and 
 for present mining operations is found in the moun¬ 
 tain ravines and along the streams. 
 
 A main highway from the Colorado to Central Ar¬ 
 izona starts from La Paz, and is one of the smoothest 
 natural roads I have ever seen. Its course to the 
 Etassayampa 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 Sau Bernardino, which is smooth, with but lit 
 
 t 
 
 tie sand, and already provided with tanks and sta¬ 
 tions. The whole distance from San Bernardino to 
 
 Prescott, the capital of the Territory, is less than 350 
 miles. Emigrants from California to Central Arizo¬ 
 na 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 
 

 
 AJRIZONA. 155 
 
 are the Harcuvar Mountains, which contain numer¬ 
 ous valuable copper lodes, and the Penhatchapet 
 Mountains, wherein very rich gold quartz has been 
 found. 
 
 MOJAVE COUNTY. 
 
 1 
 
 This county is bounded on the east by the line of 
 
 113 deg. 20 min. 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 near 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 clearly 
 demonstrated that it will pay to ship to that place, 
 or to Boston, if reduction works cannot be reached 
 at a nearer point. 
 
 ' 
 
 
 
156 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 A road along Williams’ Fork and its tributary, the 
 Santa Maria, leads to Prescott, but it will need con¬ 
 siderable 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 Wil¬ 
 liams’ Fork and the Colorado is the natural and best 
 point tor 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 oc¬ 
 cupied 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 volun¬ 
 teers 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 lnm such an exalted 
 opinion of the white man and the power of the Gen‘ 
 eral Government, that he has not ceased to urge his 
 people to the most friendly relations, and to habits 
 of industry and enterprise. 
 
 At Mojave, as at La Paz and Fort Yuma, there is 
 a well-regulated ferry across the Colorado, with 
 scows calculated to convey wagons and stock. 
 
 Ilardyville, nine miles above Mojave, upon the 
 
ARIZONA. 
 
 157 
 
 Colorado, is a young-, but active and hopeful settle¬ 
 ment. It has a large trade from the quartz mining 
 districts around it, and even from the Wauba Yuma 
 district, 40 miles in the interior, and from Prescott, 
 the capital, 160 miles inland. 
 
 Recently the Utah people have flocked to Hardy- 
 ville for their annual Supplies, finding it much easier 
 than to go, as heretofore, to San Bernardino and Los 
 Angelos. 
 
 The mines of the several districts contiguous to 
 Mojave and Hardyville, and of Eldorado Canon, 60 
 miles further up the river, are among the most noted 
 and promising in the newly-known portions of Ari¬ 
 zona. The ledges are many of them very large ; 
 the ores, both of gold and silver, the latter predomi¬ 
 nating, are surprisingly rich. Considerable money 
 has already been expended in opening the lodes; 
 one or two mills are in operation, and others are con¬ 
 tracted for. Immediately upon the river there is a 
 
 dearth of wood, but a supply may be had from the 
 * 
 
 Sacramento and Wauba Yuma districts, and from the 
 Vegas, 30 miles north of El Dorado Canon, or from 
 the Buckskin Mountains, 100 miles north. Rafted 
 down the river, it would cost but little more than for 
 the cutting. Some mountains 60 miles above El Do¬ 
 rado Canon, and within six miles of the river, contain 
 salt in beautiful transparent crystals, and of the finest 
 quality. 
 
% 
 
 158 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 The navigation of the Colorado above El, 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 Hardyville, and less than 
 400 miles from Great Salt Lake 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. Callville 
 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, Har¬ 
 dyville and Mojave. 
 
 The Colorado is the largest river between the Mis¬ 
 sissippi and the Pacific, and the only navigable stream 
 in Arizona. Its position between the Territory and 
 California, its connection with the Gulf and the Pa¬ 
 cific, 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 bo given. With a constant¬ 
 ly changing channel, a swift current, and a bed of 
 
ARIZONA. 
 
 150 
 
 quicksand, it requires experience, patience and skill, 
 to conduct the steamers with safety. These are ne¬ 
 cessarily of light draft, and limited accommodation 
 for 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 re¬ 
 quired. In the upper part of the river are a few 
 obstructions, for the removal of which a small appro¬ 
 priation 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 Fran¬ 
 cisco for from $20 to $25 per ton. This is consider¬ 
 ably cheaper than transportation can be had by the 
 roads across California. As yet there is only an ir¬ 
 regular 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 reduc¬ 
 ed 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 
 
160 
 
 BEYOND THE 'WEST. 
 
 parallel of 37 deg. north latitude; on the west by 
 the line of 113 deg. 20 min. 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 Ter¬ 
 ritorial 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 adventursome gold-seeker a terra 
 % 
 
 incognita , although one of the richest mineral, agri¬ 
 cultural, grazing and timber divisions of the Territo¬ 
 ry, 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 Gi¬ 
 la, which run through its centre, abound in eviden¬ 
 ces of a former civilization. Hero are the most ex¬ 
 tensive and impressive ruins to bo found in the Ter¬ 
 ritory—relics of cities, of aqueducts, acequias and 
 canals ; of mining and farming operations, and of oth¬ 
 er emplo} r ments, indicating an industrious and enter¬ 
 prising 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 argument to sustain the 
 opinion that this is one of the most desirable posi- 
 
ARIZONA. 161 
 
 tions for an agricultural settlement of any between 
 the Rio Grande and the Colorado. The same au¬ 
 thority says a district north of and immediately con¬ 
 tiguous to the Gila River is, par excellence, the finest 
 agricultural district in our territories lying in tho 
 same latitude, between Eastern Texas and tho 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 ovory 
 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 riv¬ 
 er, 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. 
 In these respects it differs from the Gila, which is 
 sluggish and muddy for two hundred miles. 
 
 A portion of the Gila valley is occupied by two 
 tribes of Indians, noted for their good traits—tho Pi- 
 mas and Maricopas. The lands cultivated extend 
 from sixteen to twenty miles along the river, center- 
 
162 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 ing at the Pima villages. Irrigating canals conduct 
 the water of the Gila over all the district. The In¬ 
 dians raise wheat, corn, millet, beans, pumpkins and 
 melons, in great abundance. They also raise a su¬ 
 perior 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 suffi¬ 
 cient 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 Avas 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 35tli parallel, is large and 
 Avell 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 Avay a prairie 
 country that Avould 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 oth¬ 
 ers in the territor}*. Beginning some miles south 
 
ARIZONA. 1G3 
 
 of' Prescott, and running north of the San Francisco 
 Mountain, is a forest of yellow pine, interspersed 
 with oak, sufficient to supply all the timber for 
 building material, for mining, and for fuel that can 
 oe required for a large population. 
 
 At a distance of forty miles north of the Gila 
 River, Yavapai Co'unty 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 coming 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 ter¬ 
 ritory, were induced to turn westward, via the 35th 
 parallel or Whipple route, and make a personal ex¬ 
 amination 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 Yerde and Salinas, convinced 
 him that this promised to be a most important and 
 populous section, and here ho concluded to convene 
 the first Legislative Assembly. 
 
164 
 
 BEYOND THE 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 sus¬ 
 tains 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 farm¬ 
 ing 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 Mojave 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. 
 
ARIZONA. 
 
 165 
 
 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 val¬ 
 leys, is largely taken up by settlers. The valleys 
 will, it is thought, produce good crops without irri¬ 
 gation, 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 sections now have all 
 the protection necessary for life and 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 on 
 the plain upon which it stands. It was the princi¬ 
 pal home station of the Butterfield Overland stages 
 by the Santa Pe route to San Francisco. Being eli¬ 
 gibly 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- 
 
166 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 creased as facilities are extended and the country 
 more improved. 
 
 The law here regulating the location, ownership 
 and development of mining lands, is the best de¬ 
 vised on the subject, and ought to be adopted in 
 other mining territories. 
 
 I would most respectfully urge my readers who 
 are fortunate enough to be in San Francisco, to take 
 the coast steamer and go down to Los Angelos, 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 make. 
 
 
* 
 
 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 numer¬ 
 ous 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 dis¬ 
 appear 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 has 
 
1G8 
 
 BEYOND TIIE WEST. 
 
 been no inconsiderable profit to the trapper and the 
 trader in time past. 
 
 While in a placer mining town on the Arkansas 
 River, I met an old mountain trapper, now mining 
 and trapping occasionally, from whom I obtained the 
 substance of the following article, which is so com¬ 
 plete that I have thought it might not be uninter¬ 
 esting 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 
 castor, is used lor 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 
 j frightened, then remains in the stream for some dis¬ 
 tance before ho wades out. Care must be taken to 
 place the bait just where the beaver will spring the 
 trap when reaching it. Should the bait stick be 
 placed high the hind foot will be caught, if low the 
 fore foot. The trap must be firmly fixed, and at the 
 proper distance from the shore, lor if the beaver 
 
TRAPPING BEATER. 
 
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 wonder¬ 
 ful. It certainly does know how to make the water 
 of a stream rise to a given level by placing obstruc¬ 
 tions across the channel 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 gen- 
 ei’ally lay in the direction of the water; but trees 
 generally along the banks of streams take the direc¬ 
 tion 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 engineer¬ 
 ing. The dam is not only built of the requisite 
 
170 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 height and strength, but 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 con¬ 
 structed 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 ofi 
 young trees; and wh^n 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 canine 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 rath¬ 
 er less than a semicircle. Sometimes, one of these 
 teeth gets broken, and then the opposite tooth con¬ 
 tinues growing until it forms a nearly complete cir¬ 
 cle. The chewing muscle of the beaver is strength¬ 
 ened by tendons in such a way as to give it great 
 power. But more is needed to enable the beaver to 
 
TRAPPING BEAVER. 
 
 171 
 
 eat wood. The insalivation of the dry food is pro¬ 
 vided 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 indiges¬ 
 tible ; 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 ashamed 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 Escqnawba River, and this was the re¬ 
 flection of a great authority on the occasion, one Ah- 
 she-goes, an 0jibwa trapper : ‘ Had he escaped the 
 trap, he would have been killed before the winter 
 was over, by other beavers, for stealing cuttings. 7 
 
 “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 willow bush ; around Hudson’s Bay and Lake Su¬ 
 perior, in addition to the willow they cut the poplar 
 and maple, hemlock, spruce and pine. The cutting 
 
172 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 is round and round, and deepest upon the side on 
 which they wish the tree to fall. Indians and trap¬ 
 pers have seen beavers cutting trees. The felling 
 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 be¬ 
 gins 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 family. 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 Qr six feet in diameter, 
 and about half as high ; dome-shaped, with thick, 
 strong walls, and communicate with the shore by 
 subterranean passages, below where the water free¬ 
 zes in winter. Their lodges are made to accommo¬ 
 date 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 
 
TRAPPING BEAVER. 173 
 
 washed up—unusual for the country! The sticks 
 that have been stripped are carefully packed up and 
 carried out, either to repair their dam, or be thrown 
 into the stream. 
 
 During the summer months the beavers leave their 
 winter home and travel about the streams, occasion¬ 
 ally making quite long journeys. Should any re¬ 
 main at home they are the mothers of little families. 
 About the first of September the community return 
 home and begin their preparations for the responsi¬ 
 ble duties of the long winter months. This habit, 
 like that of the crowning work of creation, has ex¬ 
 ceptions. There are a certain few individuals, who 
 have no families, make no dam, do no work, and nev¬ 
 er live in family lodges, but live by themselves, oys¬ 
 ter-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 denominate “ bachelor’s hall.” 
 They are more easily taken, and the trapper is al¬ 
 ways 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 open¬ 
 ing closed up. Returning to the bank, search is 
 made to find the subterranean passage and trace it 
 
174 
 
 BEYOND THE 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 
 1 gives up the strife of ingenuity, shoulders his traps 
 and leaves, thus confessing that he is not “up to 
 beaver.” 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 FROM DENVER TO CHEYENNE. 
 
 Having completed our travels, and 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 begin our more northern 
 wanderings. Being now hardened by journey- 
 ings and out-door life, in pure air, we can easily an- 
 * ticipate twenty hours’ pleasure under warm sun and 
 the agreeable coolness of evening, and the most bril¬ 
 liant starlight, equaled only in any other land, but 
 never surpassed. The skies send down their great¬ 
 est 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 drees marking 
 their course from the mountains to the gently-sink- 
 
 L 
 
176 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 ing thirsty plains towards the 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 set¬ 
 tlement. There is a magnificent out-doorness in the 
 constant change of scene,which no smaller or different¬ 
 ly made up landscape can give. The road presents to 
 the traveler varied and constant views of remarkable 
 interest. The green grass, 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 from the mountain canyons, mingling 
 with the plain below, making the otherwise barren¬ 
 ness to blossom and bring forth abundantly. 
 
 About every ten or twelve miles wo change horses; 
 the driver announces his approach to a station either 
 by day or night 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. 7 ' Dinner, sup¬ 
 per and breakfast are very much alike ; the only 
 real difference is in the price. But we missed, quite 
 willingly, the other kind of “ homo stations 77 we en- 
 
 
FROM: DENVER TO CHEYENNE. 177 
 
 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 
 x milk or any kind of vegetables; and if you are not 
 pleased, or “ don’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 sat down 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 w r as very much swollen from the melting 
 snow's in the mountains. The lead mules when, 
 about midway of the stream turned their faces to¬ 
 wards the driver, and became entangled in the har¬ 
 ness, and the wheel team so much so, by turning 
 
 I 
 
17S 
 
 BEYOND THE 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 quite strong, all were carried down 
 stream some distance before reaching the shore. Soon, 
 however, all were out without injury save a thorough 
 drenching ; but the hot sun and unusually dry 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 } T oung river across the road with more precau¬ 
 tion, the St. Yrains. Here everything was removed 
 from the stage, piled on a little flat raft and ferried 
 across the stream, and then 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 oppo¬ 
 site shore. 
 
 From the middle of June to August, during the 
 beginning of the warmest weather, when the accu¬ 
 mulated 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. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 WYOMING TERRITORY. 
 
 This comparatively new territory, was mostly ta¬ 
 ken from the southern part of Montana, and is about 
 as large as Colorado, and lies wholly within tho moun¬ 
 tain ranges. Bounded by tho 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 ag¬ 
 riculture 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 only set¬ 
 tlement 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- 
 
180 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 ing. The problem is now settled in her favor. Sit¬ 
 uated at the end of the plains, at the front of the 
 mountains, the railroad must have 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 has 
 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 the 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 agri¬ 
 cultural purposes, on account of its unevenness. Yet 
 there are some valleys which offer very good advan¬ 
 tages, 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. Farther north 
 are the Cheyenne, Powder and Big Horn Rivers, and 
 
WYOMING TERRITORY. 
 
 181 
 
 their tributaries flowing north to the Yellow Stone, 
 watering 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 the future. However, 
 she can rely upon Northern Colorado for a supply of 
 all her material wants. 
 
 The large and productive valleys not far south, 
 watered by the Oache-a la Pudre, St. Vrains, Big 
 Thompson, Little Thompson, Boulder and Clear 
 Creek, will be glad to find a ready market at Chey¬ 
 enne 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 law-makers 
 that they are not clothed with “ inalienable rights; ” 
 that their would-be master bridles their liberty. 
 
 The philanthropic Territorial Legislature of Wy¬ 
 oming, fully appreciating “ Women’s Rights” by un¬ 
 derstanding the many wrongs they were obliged to 
 endure in all this great and otherwise freedom-lov¬ 
 ing land, were the first in this great interest to ex¬ 
 tend 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 priv¬ 
 ileges, can very soon (with the present traveling fa- 
 
182 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 cilities) not only see, but be landed in a short time 
 safely in this promised land to them, where they 
 sit, if not under a fig tree, under the lengthened 
 shadows of the mountains, in the fullness of that 
 great ballot power which makes and unmakes 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-hearted men in 
 this country; and those single ladies who come here to 
 have their rights (denied them at home) will, on com¬ 
 ing here, be more fully 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 Wy¬ 
 oming will be, no doubt, made of golden material, 
 and will, to a large extent, make up for her rugged 
 mountains and unproductive surface. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 MONTANA—MINING, 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 ranges embraced in the lim¬ 
 its of Idaho formed such barriers to past legis¬ 
 lative 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 terri¬ 
 tory 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 direc¬ 
 tions through the entire territory, giving water com¬ 
 munication with the east as far as Port Benton, just 
 above the great Missouri Falls. The Y ellow Stone, 
 
184 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 together with its large tributaries, water the south¬ 
 ern section, giving the miner and agriculturist good 
 advantages. 
 
 Down in the deep valley of Grasshopper Creek 
 we find the little mining town of Bannack, so named 
 from a savage tribe. Here began the settlement oi 
 Montana in 1861, in the southwest corner of the ter¬ 
 ritory. 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 les¬ 
 sons which such wild mining excitements usually 
 undergo: drinking saloons without number, densely 
 crowded; gambling tables were musical with rifiging 
 coin and shining with yellow dust; theaters, which 
 seem to be indigenous in mining regions, were 
 crowded; whisky fifty cents a drink, and champagne 
 only 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 
 

 
 * 
 
 MONTANA. 185 
 
 which stood a gallows, as if proud of the good ser¬ 
 vice it had rendered to the injured people. For a 
 long time almost the first out-door look of the peo¬ 
 ple 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 se¬ 
 verely by desperate bauds of outlaws as this. 
 Every new rich mining region attracts thieves and 
 murderers—brings together the very worst elements, 
 out of which the worst kind of humanity is made, 
 and sooner or later purges itself through the ter¬ 
 rible vengeance of Lynch law. After hundreds of 
 homicides and robberies the Vigilants organized, 
 captured and executed many of the worst despera¬ 
 does, and sent out of the country many others. 
 With this salutary warning to the surviving cut¬ 
 throats, life and property became a little more se¬ 
 cure. 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, 
 was established in 1862, after the Bannack mines 
 were worked out. It is the largest settlement of 
 the territory, sixty-five miles north of Bannack, sit¬ 
 uated in Fairweatlier gulch, on Alder Creek, and lies 
 along the irregular winding stream for a distance of 
 ten miles. This gulch has yielded for a distance of 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
186 BEYOND THE 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 tho 
 place more permanency and prosperity than usually 
 belong to mining towns. 
 
 One hundred and twenty miles north is Helena, ihe 
 legitimate offspring of Virginia, as is Virginia of Ban- 
 nack. 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 perma¬ 
 nence and prosperity. It soon became the supply 
 town for the 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 ter¬ 
 ritory. 
 
 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 conti¬ 
 nent, and its quartz veins promise to average as 
 well, or better, than those of many other regions. 
 
MONTANA. 
 
 187 
 
 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 terri¬ 
 tory—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 con¬ 
 tains several large basins, and unnumbered valleys, 
 through which flow many rivers and smaller tribu¬ 
 taries, 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 winter are next-door neighbors. Here 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 which to make a 
 
18S 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 shining 
 treasures from granite hills, and rescuing fruitful 
 farms from lonely valleys. 
 
 Our wild mining regions are ever full of interest 
 to the thoughtful traveler. Their early prospecters 
 have braved savage Indians, and equally savage na¬ 
 ture ; 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 suc¬ 
 cess, it blends that marvelous element in our nation¬ 
 al 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 always to be credited, 
 by those who have no interest in their favorite re- 
 gion, we ignore their statements, and give the opin¬ 
 ion of one who had no other business, only to ex¬ 
 plore it. The Report of Gov. Stevens, on the North¬ 
 ern Pacific Railroad, to start from St. Paul and con¬ 
 nect with the head of navigation on the Columbia, at 
 Fort Walla-Walla, the reader will find interesting : 
 
MONTANA. 
 
 189 
 
 “ If the voyageur traveling over this country, what* 
 ever route he takes, be asked what sort of a country 
 it is, he=will tell you, an excellent country for trav¬ 
 eling—wood, water, and grass everywhere. But the 
 pine of the Spokane extends nearly to its mouth, and 
 for some miles south of the river. The Spokane is 
 the name of the main stream to its junction with the 
 Coeur d’ Alene river, whence its name is given to a 
 smaller tributary coming from the north, the Coeur 
 de’ Alene being the main stream. One of the most 
 beautiful features of the Coeur d’ Alene river and 
 country is the Coeur d’ Alene lake, which is embo¬ 
 somed in the midst of gently sloping hills, covered 
 with a dense forest growth ; the irregularity of its 
 form, and the changing aspect of the country about 
 it, makes it one of the most picturesque scenes in the 
 country. The Coeur d’ Alene river itself has tribu¬ 
 taries flowing from near the main divide of the Bit¬ 
 ter Root, the most considerable of which is the St. 
 Joseph’s river, which has a general parallel direc¬ 
 tion with the Coeur d’ Alene, and is about twenty 
 miles south of it. 
 
 “The whole valley of the Coeur d’ Alene and Spo¬ 
 kane, is well adapted to settlement, abounding in 
 timber for building and for fires, exceedingly well 
 watered, and the greater portion of the land arable. 
 North of the Great Plain—that is, from the Spokane 
 
190 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 to the 49th 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 
 now 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 7 Alene prairie, 
 through which the trail passes from Walla-Walla to 
 Lake Pend d 7 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 Moun¬ 
 tains 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 much used by Indians 
 and voyageurs passing to the Nez Perce country and 
 Walla-Walla. The Bitter Root Valley, above Hell- 
 Gate 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 
 
MONTANA. 
 
 191 
 
 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 
 Hole Pass to Jefferson’s Fork, Fort Hall, and other 
 points southward, as well as by the Hell-Gate routes 
 to the eastward. From its lower end, at the junc¬ 
 tion of the Hell-Gate, it is believed tke Bitter Root 
 River is, or can be made, navigable for small steam¬ 
 ers for long distances, at least, thus affording an ea¬ 
 sy outlet to its products in the natural direction. 
 Hell-Gate (Pass) is the debauche of all the consider¬ 
 able streams which flow into the Bitter Root, eighty- 
 five miles below its source at the Big Hole divide. 
 The distance from Hell-Gate to its junction with the 
 Bitter Root is fifteen miles. It must not be under¬ 
 stood from the term Hell-Gate, that here is a nar¬ 
 row. passage with perpendicular bluffs ; on the con¬ 
 trary, it is a wide, open and easy pass, in no case be¬ 
 ing 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 Hell- 
 Gate itself drains the semicircle of the Rocky Moun¬ 
 tains, from parallel 45 deg. 45 min., to parallel 46 
 deg. 30 min., a distance on the divide of eighty miles. 
 The upper waters of this river connect with Wisdom 
 
1^2 
 
 UEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 River, over a low and easy divide, across which 
 Lieut. Mulian 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 afford¬ 
 ing inexhaustible grass the year round. There is 
 a remarkable curiosity in this valley—the Boiling 
 Springs—which have been described by Lieut. Mul- 
 lan. 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 Bit¬ 
 ter 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 general¬ 
 ly 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, and 
 
MONTANA. 
 
 193 
 
 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 Benton, 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 from the south. Flint Creek, one 
 of them, is a large stream, up the valley of which 
 there is a short route to the Bitter Root Valley, in a 
 direction west-southwest from its junction with Hell- 
 Gate. 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 much more of prairie than of for¬ 
 est land. 
 
 “ The Hell-Gate River is thus seen to be one hun¬ 
 dred 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- 
 
194 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 ues from two to five miles wide, until its junction 
 with the Big Blackfoot, at Hell-Gate ; alter which, it 
 widens out to unite with the valley of the Bitter 
 Root. On this part of it there are at least one hum 
 dred and fifty square miles of fine arable land, and 
 as much grazing prairie on the adjoining hills. * 
 “Passing from the Hell-Gate to the Flathead Riv¬ 
 er, 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 di¬ 
 vide, 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 be¬ 
 holder. He sees before him an extraordinarily well- 
 grassed, well-watered and inviting country. On the 
 east are the divides, clothed with pine, separating 
 the Jocko and its tributaries from the streams run¬ 
 ning 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 at least 2,000 
 square miles of arable land. 
 
MONTANA. 195 
 
 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 fordable 
 with difficulty at low water, its depth being three 
 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 re¬ 
 ceives a considerable stream from the northwest, 
 called Hot Spring Creek. In its valley, and around 
 it, is also a large extent of fine land. Nearly oppo¬ 
 site, a small stream runs in from the East, and an¬ 
 other from the same side ten miles below, by which 
 there 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, which may be pass¬ 
 ed by a short canal, gives a navigation of at least 
 seventy-five miles to the head of Flathead Lake. 
 
 * * * -x- -x- * * * 
 
 About one hundred and thirty miles above the 
 mouth of Clarke’s Fork, is the Pend d’Oreille or Ka- 
 lispelum Lake, which is a beautiful sheet of water 
 about forty-five miles in length, formed by the dila¬ 
 tion of the river. The river is sluggish and wide 
 
* 
 
 196 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 I 
 
 for some twenty-six miles below the lake, where rap¬ 
 ids occur during low water. Steamboats could as¬ 
 cend 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 seven¬ 
 ty-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. 
 
 * • * * -s * * * * 
 
 * s 1 
 
 From the divide of the Rocky Mountains to the 
 divide of the Bitter Root Mountains, there is an in¬ 
 termediate region, over one-third of which is a cul¬ 
 tivable area; and a large portion of it is prairie 
 country, instead of a wooded or mouutain 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 Bit¬ 
 ter Root River and its tributaries, not including Hell- 
 Gate, the prairie region may be estimated at three 
 thousand square miles ; in that watered by the Hell- 
 Gate and its tributaries, including the whole country 
 south and west to the Bitter Root, but not including 
 the Big Blackfoot, there is a prairie region of two 
 
MONTANA. 
 
 197 
 
 thousand five hundred square miles ; in that water¬ 
 ed by the Big Blackfoot and its tributaries, the prai¬ 
 rie 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 thou¬ 
 sand 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 
 
 • i 
 
 square miles ; and it will be a small estimate to put 
 the arable land of the prairie and the forest at twelve 
 thousand square miles. Thus; the country in the 
 Forks.of the Flathead and Bitter R6ot, stretching 
 away east above the Blackfoot Canyon, is mostly ta¬ 
 ble land, well watered and arable ; and on all these 
 tributaries—the Bitter Root, the Hell-Gate, the Big 
 Blackfoot, the Jocko, the Hot Spring River, the Ma¬ 
 ple River, and the Lou-Lou Fork itself—the timber- 
 land will be found unquestionably better than the 
 prairie land. It will not bo in the immediate bot¬ 
 tom or valley of the river where farmers will find 
 their best locations, but on the smaller tributaries 
 
198 
 
 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 open and 
 beautiful country. The observer who has 
 through this country often; who has had with him 
 intelligent men who have lived in it long; who un¬ 
 derstands 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 coun¬ 
 try, and it will not be many years before the progress 
 of settlements will establish its superiority as an ag¬ 
 ricultural region.”' 
 
 The 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 met¬ 
 als, her valleys abound in the more common and 
 useful materials of marble, limestone, cinnabar, cop¬ 
 per, sandstone, lead, plumbago, iron, coal, and the 
 best of timber for lumbering purposes. Add to 
 these a most healthful and delightful climate, and the 
 
 passed 
 
MONTANA. 
 
 199 
 
 most agreeable scenery, and there is nothing left to 
 desire which should constitute a happy home for 
 thousands of hardy emigrants. 
 
 THE CLIMATE OF MONTANA. 
 
 The first remark of those who have not properly 
 considered the matter, is, that a railroad so far north 
 would be in winter obstructed by snows, which the 
 real facts contradict, and will convince the intelli¬ 
 gent 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 thou¬ 
 sand feet less than it is on the line of the Central 
 Road. The climate is modified and softened by the 
 warm winds that come from the warm plains of the 
 southwest over the hot springs of a large 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 annual temperature of 
 50 deg., thus settling the question of climate. There 
 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 
 
200 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 affluents of the Missouri, nearly east of the Pass, 
 selected for the Northern Road. It was here the 
 mountain men found grass and sweet cotton-wood 
 lor 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 Com¬ 
 pany, 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, 
 but obtained their own living without difficulty. 
 The factB hardly sustain the general impression that 
 the winter in this region has more snow, and is 
 colder fnan in the more central ranges farther 
 south. 
 
-v 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 IDAHO—SHOSHONEE FALLS—BOISE CITY—IDAHO CITY 
 —OWYHEE QUARTZ MILLS—CHARACTERISTIC 
 FEATURES OF THE COUNTRY, AC. 
 
 This territory, since the division which now com¬ 
 prises 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 
 toe Columbia from the head waters of the Missouri. 
 The road from Salt Lake City is the same to Mon¬ 
 tana 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, sur¬ 
 rounded with vast rolling wastes of sand deserts, 
 sage brush and volcanic debris scattered profusely 
 over the country. The old granite rocks had been 
 both literally and truly turned inside out by subter¬ 
 ranean forces far down in the deep bowels of the 
 earth. This portion of the territory is interesting 
 only for the magnificently broken surface and unin¬ 
 habitableness, dreary and forbidding for the uses of 
 civilized life. A few half-starved, degraded Utes 
 
202 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 In¬ 
 dian warfare. Through all this great country every 
 man’s cabin is truly his castle, and he himself must 
 defend it. 
 
 The comas-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 
 wintei’c Some of the ravines were quite covered 
 with a plant called kinnikinie, a species of the real 
 tobacco plant, which, in its young growth, it resem¬ 
 bles largely. The 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 it, and like Hum¬ 
 boldt and Carson, after running hundreds of miles, 
 sinks like the waters of Damascus. 
 
 We were anxious to visit Shoshonee Falls, of 
 Snake River, but four miles west of the road station, 
 which few white men had seen previous to 18GT, and 
 
» IDAHO. 
 
 208 
 
 is two hundred and sixty-five miles from Salt Lake 
 City. The Indians call it Poh-clm-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 guard¬ 
 ing it. A party had been to see it a short time be¬ 
 fore, accompanied by a few soldiers at the station. 
 One of these consented to accompany us. The six 
 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 silver- 
 tongued bell hung high up in the ethereal dome. 
 
 We started in early morning, and had not pro¬ 
 ceeded 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 ihe waterfall, a mirage 
 more wonderful than any I had witnessed in all my 
 desert and mountain wanderings, surpassing an or¬ 
 dinary desert mirage as much as the splendors of an 
 arctic night excel the clouds of a summer day. We 
 
 i 
 
204 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 gazed 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 to send her streams of use and beauty 
 between two sentinel mountains on the east, the 
 “ Gateway of the Day 7 ’ here truly; but we had an¬ 
 other last view, and all evaporated like a fascinating 
 dream. Could an artist have placed it upon can¬ 
 vass? Bnt who can “gild refined gold or paint the 
 lilly ? Who .can paint the mountains, the seas or the 
 skies ? 77 Who will presume to fix limits upon th^ 
 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 
 
IDAHO. 
 
 205 
 
 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, interspersed 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 mist, hiding from mortal eyes the 
 secrets of its boiling heart. This fall is seldom 
 equaled. Not all hight, like Yosemite, 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 rock, 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 preci¬ 
 pice, 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 liv¬ 
 ing, give its earlier life, while he was taking vapor 
 baths and smoking his pipe by its magic-toned mu- 
 
 / 
 
206 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 
 from 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¬ 
 ing 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 capi¬ 
 tal as well as the commercial metropolis of Idaho. 
 It is a trading, not a mining town, in the level val¬ 
 ley 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 car¬ 
 avansary, not uncommon along the borders of civil¬ 
 ization. 
 
 The principal mining centers and farming inter¬ 
 ests of Idaho are located within a hundred miles of 
 Boise, which secures to it the monopoly of the gen¬ 
 eral business of the territory. 
 
I 
 
 IDAHO. 2U7 
 
 Boise Basin, northeast ninety miles, is a mountain 
 bowl twenty-five miles in diameter, and contains 
 some good quartz-bearing ledges, but is principally 
 known as one of the richest placer mining districts. 
 This saucer-like basin seemed to have been the re¬ 
 ceptacle for the shining gold, coming along distance 
 in all directions through the mountain ranges, which 
 gave it umisual 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 fu¬ 
 ture 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 
 richest leads and many gulch mining districts. It 
 has been more largely developed, being more acces¬ 
 sible 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 won¬ 
 derfully piled up and broken by subterranean fires 
 than this, which, no doubt, is the cause of its un¬ 
 usually rich mountain mines. 
 
208 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 com¬ 
 panies in New York, Boston and Providence. The 
 first mill, put in working order, cost seventy thou¬ 
 sand 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 China¬ 
 men find remunerative employment, by panning out 
 the “ tailings,” after the mills have exhausted their 
 skill to extract the sxold 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 from California. San Francisco- 
 made quartz mills, a specialty from the'first, are far 
 
 4 
 

 
 IDAHO. 209 
 
 in advance in all improvements which are properly 
 a success, of any made east of the mountains. 
 
 Here, as in all our large quartz regions, the larger 
 portion of capital invested has been lost through in¬ 
 competency, recklessness and bad management, by 
 buying worthless mines at ruinous prices, and ex¬ 
 pending 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 suc¬ 
 cessful, legitimate business, will generally be large¬ 
 ly rewarded. Quartz mining, however, has now on¬ 
 ly lived through a few of its infant years ; but with 
 its good start, will grow year by year, until it is one 
 of the leading national interests, and holds out favor¬ 
 able inducements to the discriminating use of indus¬ 
 try 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 first discovery of gold 
 in 1862. After its richness was demonstrated, the 
 
A 
 
 210 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 region labored under unusual disadvantages, being 
 so very remote for all business purposes, and ne 
 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 agri¬ 
 cultural 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 sea¬ 
 sons 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 coun¬ 
 try lying west o f the Rocky Mountains. 
 
* 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 EASTERN OREGON — SOIL — CLIMATE — RESOURCES AND 
 GENERAL FEATURES. 
 
 A day's stage-ride from Boise City, the tourist 
 crosses the Snake River into Oregon, without notic- 
 ing any remarkable change, save crossing the geo¬ 
 graphical line which the river makes a little more 
 prominent, as it runs north through the rather beau¬ 
 tiful, deep valley—forming a very natural, running 
 boundary line between two great territories. As 
 usual, we are among barren mountains, relieved oc¬ 
 casionally by a growth of evergreen trees, upon their 
 otherwise naked slopes; sand plains, with their usu¬ 
 al productions; a few patches of bunch grass to the 
 acre, Xvith the usual presence of that indigenous, 
 prolific shrub, wild sage. In the Blue Mountains, 
 we crossed the Round Prairie, thirty miles by about 
 thirteen, as level as a lake or a house floor, symmet¬ 
 rically 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 excel¬ 
 lent grass, good wheat and barley, and some of the 
 
212 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 Hard} 7 ' vegetables, but too high and cold for corn 
 Near one side is a hot sulphur spring—a great boil 
 ing caldron, covering an acre. 
 
 Half a century ago, Lewis and Clark found and 
 noted this interesting and beautiful, hid-away moun¬ 
 tain 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 Yalley of the 
 Snake, for a hundred miles, and ahead to Walla Walla. 
 Now upon the highest range of the Blue Mountains, 
 we pass down on their Pacifie 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 ev¬ 
 ergreen 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 depriv¬ 
 ed, 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 Yalley, 
 whose head-waters and southern tributaries flow 
 
I 
 
 EASTERN OREGON. 213 
 
 though a delightful country, suitable for cultivation 
 or grazing. Here were the famous pastures of the 
 Nez Perce Indian chief, whose band of horses num¬ 
 bered 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 naviga¬ 
 tion on the Columbia, is a place of commercial im¬ 
 portance—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 grazing 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 Ore¬ 
 gon 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, unblessed in 
 any essential way for the use of civilized man. 
 More particularly so, when the emigration to this far 
 offiand came over-land from the old States and Ter- 
 
214 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 ritories, in the far off east and more southern States 
 arrived at the South Pass of the Roc^y Mountains 
 with animals 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 experienc¬ 
 ed—agreeable in summer in the mountains, but ex¬ 
 cessively hot and dry on the plains. 
 
 The little coolness in the air in the morning at¬ 
 mosphere, soou 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 flame—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, become 
 somewhat disheartened by long and weary travel, 
 and the unforeseen difficulties which fell in their 
 way, quite unprepared to appreciate even the occa¬ 
 sional oasis which beautified the desert, and impart¬ 
 ed new life to them and their faithful animals. 
 
 My heart rejoiced many times to see the poor, 
 
EASTERN OREGON. 
 
 215 
 
 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 or¬ 
 dered 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 beau¬ 
 tiful verdant valleys west of the Cascade Moun¬ 
 tains, 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 forward to seo- 
 ing 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 bo what can 
 now be seen in many of its fertile valleys, “blos¬ 
 soming like the rose.” Such is Eastern Oregon. 
 However, there is a very great disproportion be¬ 
 tween the good and bad land in this portion of the 
 State. There are many mountain ranges—alkah 
 plains, that would make better soap than wheat and 
 sage deserts. There is no hope for the alkali, but 
 
216 
 
 BEYOND TEiE WEST. 
 
 some of the sage land can be reclaimed where 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 valua¬ 
 ble 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 flow 
 east into the lakes, of which the Kalamatli is the 
 largest. These several lakes, with their surround¬ 
 ings, are somewhat remarkable. Hills thrown care¬ 
 lessly around in all directions, covered with despei* 
 ately burnt rock and scoria, the hideous chasm;!, 
 sharp, pyramidal, needle-shaped rocks of its basal¬ 
 tic 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 by 
 civilized man, and the home of the fowl, and the 
 marauding Indians after a successful raid into tin 
 
EASTERN OREGON. 
 
 217 
 
 distant settlements. Explorations already made are 
 sufficient to demonstrate the fact that Eastern Ore¬ 
 gon, 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 iso¬ 
 lated great country, is like a gambler’s money— 
 mighty 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 sun¬ 
 burnt, 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 real¬ 
 ize 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 Mountains through Idaho; 
 
 \ 
 
218 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 im¬ 
 portance, 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 everj^ reason to believe it must, the place 
 will grow large and prosperous. 
 
 The banks of the Columbia here are low, having 
 the same 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 pur¬ 
 poses. For sixty miles of the ninety down to the ra¬ 
 pids, not a single tree is visible, except such shrubs 
 as grow on the sand bars find islands. 
 
 Not far above Celilo (the head of the rapids) comes 
 in the Des Chutes River, rapid and wide at its en¬ 
 trance; 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 
 
EASTERN OREGON. 219 
 
 rapids. Above this point the smaller boats only can 
 navigate. A railroad portage carries everything 
 from here sixteen miles to Dalles, below the cata¬ 
 ract. 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 
 upon an incline to accommodate boats at the differ¬ 
 ent 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 large body of water, com¬ 
 pressed 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 aud whirlpools. The 
 enormous sand drifts, ever changing with the sum¬ 
 mer 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 by the desperate 
 sand winds which drive during the summer over 
 this upper country. 
 
 Dalles is a prosperous business town of impor¬ 
 tance on the Columbia, aud has some pretensions of 
 
220 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 becoming the terminus of a branch Pacific Railway. 
 The country about Dalles has a remarKable wildness 
 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 de¬ 
 scribe 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.” 4 
 
 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 de¬ 
 bris piled mountain upon mountain. The north¬ 
 ern side, that of the river, has large quantities ol 
 
( 
 
 EASTERN OREGON. 
 
 221 
 
 never-melting snow, and in warm weather Hood 
 River comes down cold from the melted snows of 
 the mighty mountain. Its hight has been variously 
 estimated from fourteen to fifteen thousand feet. It 
 has been agitated by an occasional eruption simul¬ 
 taneously with earthquakes at San 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 Company, 
 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-cap- 
 p id crest upon the Astor Expedition, suffering all but 
 death itself while crossin'g 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 Dalles, traveled, destitute and 
 sick, late in the fall, slowly and 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 maddened 
 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 now the traveler can only dream of those early 
 
222 
 
 BEYOND THE 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 forests (as in California on 
 the same range,) are brought out, as there, in great¬ 
 ness and beauty—then the very mountains them¬ 
 selves—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 nar¬ 
 row gorge. These few miles of railway, located 
 just above and along the struggling waters, furnish 
 views seldom equaled anywhere. The liight and pic¬ 
 turesque 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 described— 
 it can only be felt. Place half a dozen Highlands 
 
EASTERN 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. 
 
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¬ 
 lumbia 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 Com¬ 
 pany on the Washington side, Vancouver, is beauti¬ 
 fully 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 low¬ 
 er 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 es¬ 
 tablished the first farming in Oregon. At the up- 
 ,per mouth of the stream, are a number of small isl¬ 
 ands, as if to keep back the clear and sparkling wa¬ 
 ters, causing them to take many devious ways, as if 
 reluctant to come forth all at once, to join its grand- 
 
WESTERN OREGON. 
 
 225 
 
 er neighbor, and bo recognized no more individual* 
 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. Hel¬ 
 en, 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 up— 
 that representing the allegiance of the Maine man 
 to his native home. 
 
 Portland is yet young and simple-hearted—“feels 
 its oats,” but its dignity more—looks as if made for 
 all the working days of the week, and is also consid¬ 
 erably dressed up for Sundays. The streets are 
 broad and level, tree-lined, with the very best, wide 
 side-walks, which are almost indispensable here, on 
 account of the excessive mud during the rainy sea¬ 
 son. The houses are well back from the road and 
 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 
 
226 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 Y/allamet for many miles, are large trees marshaled 
 up the hill side and overtopped in the gorges, and 
 absorbing the very sunlight 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, 
 running north and south, form a very natural division 
 of Oregon, making an Eastern and Western Territo¬ 
 ry. That portion of the State west of the moun¬ 
 tains, is embraced in three large valleys—the Wal- 
 lamet, Umpqua, and the Rouge River, together with 
 a narrow strip of laud 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 sepa¬ 
 rating the valleys, of which the Wallamet is much 
 the largest and most productive. 
 
 The Wallamet River, like most others of this coun¬ 
 try, is troubled with falls. Twenty-five miles from 
 : ts mouth are falls furnishing the largest water pow¬ 
 er in the State. Above the falls, the water forms a 
 large basin, and is smooth until within a half-mile of 
 
WESTERN OREGON. 
 
 227 
 
 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, forms 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 and 
 freight have only to cross the warehouse to be trans¬ 
 ferred. The whole length of this river is not far 
 from a hundred and seventy-five miles, and the ex¬ 
 tent of the valley is in the neighborhood of one hun¬ 
 dred and twenty-five miles long, by from sixty to 
 eighty in width, having many tributary streams. 
 
 Wallamet Valley is principally prairie land, wait¬ 
 ing only the husbandman’s plowshare and scattering 
 the seed, to reward him liberally in large harvests. 
 For several miles from the Columbia, the forests of 
 fir, pine, yew and cedar, are very dense on the high¬ 
 er lands back ; while the river bottom lands are cov¬ 
 ered with a large growth of oak, ash, maple, cotton¬ 
 wood and willow; but farther southward the timber 
 
228 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 becomes less, and goes back into the foot-hills and 
 mountains, 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 coun¬ 
 try. The soil is of a dark gray color; calcarious, 
 sandy loam; is mellow, and ordinarily suffers but lit¬ 
 tle 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 qual¬ 
 ity as the lower lands of the rivers and streams. But 
 grass is everywhere to be found more or less away 
 from 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-grow¬ 
 er will go to the low foot-hills, and the sheep-raiser 
 will go higher up among the hills with his sheep to 
 the mountains. The dairyman seeks those place? 
 
WESTERN OREGON. 
 
 229 
 
 where grass is the most abundant during the year, 
 and where the climate favors most the making of 
 butter and cheese. As already intimated, Western 
 Oregon—lying between the Cascade Mountains and 
 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 for 
 grazing and fruit-growing: while the lower valley 
 has some of California’s reputation for mining. 
 
 No one can travel through Wallamet Yalley with¬ 
 out being impressed with its varied beauty and al¬ 
 most 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 the 
 largest and best, of which our extended country has 
 so many. The beauty of this is made up in agreea¬ 
 ble intermixture of level and rolling prairies, with 
 ranges of low hills, pictured with heavy green for¬ 
 ests, many gliding, winding rivers skirted with the 
 finest trees, and in the majesty of the mountains 
 which guard it from the heat ol eastern deserts, and 
 the cold of the Arctic seas. Its fertility and beauty 
 are manifested in the magnificent forests which em¬ 
 bellish all the surrounding hills in everlasting green; 
 also m the grassy plain which year after year clothe 
 
230 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 ine valley with renewed, beautiful verdure, and also 
 in the many waving, golden harvest fields which are 
 now interspersed among the universal green. Na¬ 
 ture 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 ma¬ 
 turing 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 wheat land on the Pa¬ 
 cific slope, which, surrounded and intermingled with 
 never-failing water power, makes the Wallamet Val¬ 
 ley adapted by nature for the cheap manufacture of 
 breadstuffs.” 
 
 While Western Oregon is so very prolific in agri¬ 
 cultural [productions, its timber and lumbering re¬ 
 sources are equally as much so. The principal tim¬ 
 ber used for lumber ai’e the firs and cedars. These 
 grow beside the streams and on the mountain ran¬ 
 ges, affording excellent facilities for milling and for 
 exporting lumber. Along the Columbia river from 
 Dalles to its mouth, a distance of two hundred miles, 
 are dense forests of very large trees which make the 
 best 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 
 the highest mountain torrent, filled with delicious 
 
WESTERN OREGON. 
 
 231 
 
 speckled trout, to the largest rivers and the ocean 
 bays, all ito 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 tak¬ 
 en 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 enor¬ 
 mous 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 ev¬ 
 ery projecting rock, piercing the fish with the great¬ 
 est 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 food 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- 
 
232 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 moil and other fish, by remarking the time they as¬ 
 cend the rivers. All the tribes inhabiting the shores 
 choose favorable locations; and not only do they find 
 nutriment during the season, but, if diligent, they 
 dry, and also pulverize and mix with oil, a sufficient 
 quantity for the rest of the year. Incalculable shoals 
 of salmon ascend to the river’s source and there die 
 in shallow water. Great quantities of trout and 
 carp follow them, and regale themselves 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 the salt sea, where numerous fish of pray, 
 
 With appetite keen, the number of her days 
 Would soon have put an end to, could but they 
 Have caught her; but, as they could not, she, 
 
 Spring having come, resolved to quit the sea. 
 
WESTERN OREGON. 
 
 233 
 
 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 frequenting there in bands. 
 
 But ah ! how little thought thi3 simple fish 
 The toils and perils she was yet to suffer, 
 
 The chance she ran of serving as a dish 
 Tor 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 dart3 with meteoric swiftness to and fro, 
 
 Striking the frail meshes within which she’s penned, 
 Which 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 cautious from her late escape, 
 
 She keeps in deeper water, and thinks how , 
 
 Foolish she was to get in such a scrape, I 
 
 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, 
 
 Wa3 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 hunt with merely having bit her. 
 
234 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 Scarce had she recovered from 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. 
 
 ‘ HI 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 hight 
 Into the air and come down helter-skelter, 
 
 As did this poor production of melter. 
 
 All this, with many other dangers, she survived, 
 
 Too 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. 
 

 
 WESTERN OREGON. 285 
 
 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 flood, 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 teeble effort—dies.” 
 
 Our space will not allow of a detailed account ot the 
 very large variety of articles which this valley is ca¬ 
 pable of producing. All the grains grow and pro- 
 duce 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 
 
 
 *1 
 
I 
 
 236 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 occasionally, 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 ne¬ 
 cessary for those who have delicate constitutions, to 
 protect themselves against the rapid change of tem¬ 
 perature 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 devel¬ 
 opment. The nights are always cool, and sleep, 
 “ nature’s sweet restorer,” becomes a regular refresh¬ 
 ment. 
 
 The winters are monotonous and somewhat disa¬ 
 greeable 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 w T et cli¬ 
 mate 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. 
 
WESTERN OREGON. 
 
 237 
 
 The summers are delightful; the temperature of 
 the day is agreeable, the air bright and clear; 
 warmer in the after part of the day than in the 
 morning, and falling again to coolness in the evening. 
 Sultriness, such as we sometimes experience in our 
 home country, is never found in these regions. 
 The greatest heat in summer never has that debili¬ 
 tating effect which the summer heat sometimes has 
 in the Atlantic States. It was remarked b}^ farm¬ 
 ers here that their cattle can endure more work 
 under the hot sun of summer, with less exhaustion, 
 than they could in the States from which they 
 came. 
 
 The climate of the coast country is more moist 
 
 Mg 
 
 and cooler than the country lyirig back to the east¬ 
 ward, on account of its nearness to the sea. The 
 soil is black and rich, (like that about Chicago,) 
 supporting an immense growth of vegetation. The 
 prairie, places are covered with good grass ; also 
 the hillsides with a very heavy growth where the 
 forests are not too heavy. 
 
 The temperature of the coast counties is lower 
 than that of the interior, and is more uniform. The 
 fogs from the sea in summer and the rains in win¬ 
 ter serve to keep the grass in excellent condition the 
 year round. With these natural favorable circum¬ 
 stances, together with some others, this would seem 
 
238 BEYOND THE 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 dairymen 
 transfer their fine milking herds to these valleys and 
 bills 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 consume 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 con¬ 
 stantly 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 pros¬ 
 perous, surrounded 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 from their friends and native 
 land, in a country claimed and occupied (which is 
 
WESTERN OREGON. 
 
 239 
 
 nine-tenths of the law) by a foreign government, to 
 take upon themselves the deprivations and dangers 
 of the way and settlement, is unparalleled in 
 the history of America, and, perhaps, in the world. 
 Aside from any right we had to Oregon resting on 
 discovery, exploration, cession and contiguity, actual 
 possession of the country was needed to make that 
 title indisputable. Nothing was complete without 
 it, and this the early immigrants to Oregon settled 
 in favor of the nation, in the presence of the rulers 
 and subjects of a princess claiming to exercise, and 
 exercised, a sovereign jurisdiction over the country, 
 able to crush out the rising colony, either by force, 
 or by refusing them such supplies in their destitute 
 condition as were indispensable to their existence. 
 They occupied the extraordinary and every way 
 anomalous position of a people who, without having 
 either renounced their country, or been renounced 
 ]by it, were nevertheless without one. 
 
 We have already said all and more than we first 
 intended to say of New England shores, but the 
 mind runs unbridled, and we are dwelling with more 
 than fond reverence upon the history of our pilgrim 
 fathers, who established a State without a king, more 
 lasting (we hope) than the rock upon which they 
 disembarked. The heart of the philanthropist and 
 patriot swells with just and honorable pride and 
 
240 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 gratitude to a watchful aud guiding Providence, as 
 
 i 
 
 he reads the story of the settlement of Jamestown, 
 and notices so many self-sacrifices, 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 aud survey 
 this beautiful and rich country, to express the opin¬ 
 ion 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 
 w r as concluded and signed at Washington, June 15, 
 1846, and ratified a!t 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 filled with a 
 
WESTERN OREGON. 241 
 
 thousand glorious recollections which clustered 
 around and covered, as it seemed to them, the em¬ 
 blem of their now new country’s nationality on the 
 Pacific coast. 
 
 SCENERY. 
 
 Nowhere west of the Mississippi, can a country be 
 found where the general scenery is so varied and 
 magnificent as in Oregon. The massive Rocky Moun¬ 
 tains to the east; the steeper slopes of the Cascade 
 Mountain ranges in the centre, and the coast range 
 on the west, covered far up their rugged sides with 
 magnificent forests, while between them are rolling 
 prairies, extensive plains and embowered lakes; un¬ 
 numbered, long, wide and beautiful rich valleys, en¬ 
 hancing the appearance of grandeur and varied beau¬ 
 ty ; enhanced by the many magnificent rivers and 
 mountain streams, which glide from mountain can¬ 
 yons and glens in every direction, bearing on their 
 ceaseless flow the elements of prosperous commerce, 
 productiveness and beauty. 
 
 When once upon the summit of the Cascade Moun¬ 
 tains, thrown together in extraordinary confusion, 
 the traveler’s toil is repaid. “ In one view he may 
 embrace the rugged steeps of the Green Mountains ; 
 the blue, wooded slopes of the Alleghanies, and the 
 ice-crowned peaks of the Alps; the volcanic piles of 
 the Andes; the broad platteau of Brazil; the fertile 
 
242 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 prairies of the Upper Mississippi, and the lawns, 
 groves and copses of the sunny South. To the east¬ 
 ward he beholds an immense platteau or elevated 
 plain, relieved at distant intervals by spurs from the 
 mountain chains, and sloping gently in different di¬ 
 rections towards the various streams which, wend¬ 
 ing 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 diver¬ 
 sified by great rivers and small streamlets; by tall 
 mountains and deeply embosomed vales; by gentle 
 undulations and precipitous, high-walled canyons; by 
 dark-frowning forests of pine and fir, spruce and ce¬ 
 dar, 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 so many large streams 
 rushing over precipitous cliffs, leaping from fall to 
 fall, and dashing and foaming 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 ascend¬ 
 ing Mount Lincoln,) small mountains of cinders, as 
 if fresh from the volcanic forge, sea shells and cor¬ 
 als. One of these Mountain Lakes is thus described 
 by a gentleman who visited it: 
 
WESTERN OREGON. 
 
 243 
 
 “ Upon rising the slope bounding the lake, the first 
 impression made upon your mind is one of disap¬ 
 pointment—it does not come up to your expecta¬ 
 tions, but this is only momentary. A second look, and 
 you begin to comprehend the majestic beauties 
 of the scenery spread out before you, aud 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 appear¬ 
 ance 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 exercis¬ 
 ing his art. The color of the water is blue, but in 
 very many different shades, and, like the colors in 
 variegated silk, continually changing. Now, 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 one shade to another. 
 
 “ I cannot account for this changeableness, as the 
 sky was perfectly clear, and it could not have been 
 caused by any shadows. There was, however, a gen¬ 
 tle breeze, which caused a ripple of the waters; this 
 may account for it. At first sight, a person would 
 
I 
 
 
 244 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 not estimate the surface o 5 f the water to be more 
 than two or three hundred feet below the summit of 
 the surrounding bluffs, and 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 expres¬ 
 sion, you have to look twice before reaching the bot¬ 
 tom. 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 Ser¬ 
 geant 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 be¬ 
 fore. Their shouts induced Mr. Coats and myself 
 to attempt the feat, which is in fact only perilous in 
 imagination. 
 
 “ A spring of water bursts out of the mountain near 
 the top, on the side where we were, and by follow¬ 
 ing down the channel which the 'water has made, a 
 good footing may be established all the w r ay down. 
 In all probability, this is the only place in the whole 
 circumference where the lake is accessible, although 
 
 * 
 
 
 — 
 
WESTERN OREGON. 
 
 245 
 
 Sergeant Stearns clambered around the lake for a 
 short s distance, and ascended to the summit by a dif¬ 
 ferent route from the one we descended—yet he does 
 not think he could go down where he came up. The 
 water in the lake is as clear as a crystal, and is about 
 the same temperature as the well water in Rogue 
 River Yalley. 
 
 “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 kingfisher. In 
 ascending, I measured the distance as well as I could, 
 from point to point, by the eye, and confclude that it 
 is from seven to eight hundred feet perpendicular, 
 from the water to the summit of the bin If. The lake 
 seems to be very nearly circular, and is from seven 
 to eight miles in diameter; and, except at two or 
 three points, the bluff js about the same altitude. 
 Near the western shore of the lake is an island about 
 one-half mile in diameter, upon which there is con¬ 
 siderable timber growing. The island is not more 
 than a quarter of a mile from the western shore 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 forma¬ 
 tion seems to be entirely pomice stone at that point, 
 
246 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 and to slope to the water’s edge at a less angle than 
 any other 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. Ser¬ 
 geant Stearns and Peyton Ford are the first white 
 men 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. 7 It will be visited by thousands 
 hereafter, and some person would do well to build 
 upon its banks a house where visitors could be en¬ 
 tertained, 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 in- 
 tended to connect the Columbia River with San Fran¬ 
 cisco Bay, and will form a link in that other 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 some¬ 
 times say, before going to press, I learned that this 
 Northern Road is already begun, and that a few hun¬ 
 dred men are now at work on the eastern end. 
 
 On account of Portland capital, the Oregon Cen¬ 
 tral has been commenced at that place. But it will 
 
/ 
 
 WESTERN OREGON. 247 
 
 not long be the Northern terminus—it is situated too 
 far from the Columbia River. A point for the Ore¬ 
 gon Central is naturally on the Columbia, where it 
 will connect by ferriage with a road down the Cow- 
 elitiz Yalley from Puget Sound, making an unbroken 
 line of road through Washington, Oregon and Cal¬ 
 ifornia, to San Francisco. 
 
 The direction of the Oregon Central is as yet un¬ 
 decided, whether to take the road over the Calapooga, 
 Umpaga and Siskiyon Mountains directly 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 desira¬ 
 ble country in the State. Efforts are also being made 
 to get a branch road from the Union Pacific to con¬ 
 nect the upper Columbia at Dalles, Umatilla or Wal- 
 lamet. 
 
 No part of our territory needs a railroad more 
 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 been looking for 
 
24S BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 the great “ River of the West” for 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 expedition, was 
 scanning the coast not far away, declaring that there 
 was no such river. 
 
 Lucky man was Captain Gray, of the ship Colum¬ 
 bia, 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 beau¬ 
 tiful 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 river 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 for many years was the 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 ob¬ 
 tained during the year to be sent home. Thus 
 began the commerce of our Western coast, which 
 now whitens every sea. 
 
 This magnificent bay is encased by high hills, loaded 
 
WESTERN OREGON. 249 
 
 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 flowed 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. 
 
 *i 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. 
 
250 
 
 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.” 
 
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¬ 
 ana 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 re¬ 
 cent purchase of Alaska. Comment is unneces¬ 
 sary. 
 
 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 yast and unknown region which he had added 
 to the now seemingly small republic. The principal 
 purpose of the expedition was, however, to ascer¬ 
 tain the possibility of a road across the continent, 
 the inspection of the pioneer movement for a Pa¬ 
 cific railway. They outfitted at the then little 
 French town of St. Louis. Steadily, but slowly as¬ 
 cending the Missouri to its sources in the Rocky 
 Mountains, they with much difficulty crossed the 
 
I 
 
 252 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 ranges to the head waters of the Columbia and fol¬ 
 lowed it to the ocean. It was a remarkable under¬ 
 taking at the time, full of the wildest romance and 
 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 con¬ 
 quest of half a hemisphere—the army of civiliza¬ 
 tion. 
 
 The adventurous explorers traveled along rivers 
 in rafts, and in small boats of their own construc¬ 
 tion, sometimes propelled by sails, oars and tow- 
 lines, 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 mountains, and 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 
 more returned to the place from whence they 
 started, but not as they went out, neatly shaven and 
 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 cloth¬ 
 ing of skins and swarthy faces, supposing them to 
 be the wildest of all the Indians. Rip Van Win¬ 
 kle’s resurrection, both as to himself and his old 
 neighbors, evaporates into thin air at the first warm 
 
THE LOUISIANA PURCHASE. 
 
 253 
 
 rays of the early morning sun, when compared with 
 the wonderful achievement of these resurrected 
 men from an unknown savage land. 
 
 Going out they made the distance from the mouth 
 of the Missouri to the mouth of the Columbia, four 
 thousand one hundred and thirty-four miles. They 
 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 war¬ 
 fare and character especially fitted him for this un¬ 
 dertaking. He was the military director, while 
 Lewis applied himself principally to scientific in¬ 
 vestigation. Subsequently Clark was made Briga¬ 
 dier General, Governor of Missouri Territory, and 
 Superintendent of Indian Affairs under President 
 Monroe. He held the last position until his death 
 in Stc Louis, in 1838. 
 
 Lewis was a native of Virginia, had been in 
 the army, and afterwards Private Secretary to Pres¬ 
 ident Jefferson. In 1809 he was appointed Governor 
 of Missouri Territory. He found that quiet life un¬ 
 endurable, 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, sent forth in obedience to the first na- 
 tional instinct, which has now culminated in that 
 
254 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 magnificent work, the Trans-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 made large 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 spec¬ 
 tacle, which, since the creation, has been lavishing 
 its magnificence upon a desert unknown to civiliza¬ 
 tion. 
 
 Lewis found the river three hundred yards wide, 
 down among precipitous rocks, with the water fall¬ 
 ing 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 hun¬ 
 dred and eighty feet. The upper fall is forty feet, 
 
THE LOUISIANA PURCHASE. 
 
 255 
 
 and extends across the river in a half-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 thou¬ 
 sand 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 inter¬ 
 esting rainbows, together Avith the immense volume 
 of water, will make these falls a favorite with tour¬ 
 ists when good facilities are made to reach them. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 INDIAN TRIBES, CHARACTER AND HABITS. 
 
 [ The reader will now have observed that we have 
 made the two wings of our great Western country 
 from the eastern central base of the Rocky Moun¬ 
 tains, while it yet remains for us to return and take 
 up our travel through the middle portion from where 
 
 r 
 
 we diverged. 
 
 From the quiet way which we have journeyed 
 over these regions, you may have supposed that all 
 danger from within by the red man of the plains arid 
 mountains was averted, which is quite the reverse. 
 The traveler on his tour through such a country has 
 but little time to write. It is as much as he can well 
 do to tl look out for his scalp, and for something to 
 eat.” Impressions, however, of the strongest kind 
 are indelibly made by the changing incidents of 
 savage life, and a mind that can ruminate upon them 
 will ever find abundant materials clinging to it for 
 endless entertainment, and to write when he gets 
 back, to unfold the web which the shuttle of the 
 mind has woven with the thread of thought in the 
 loom of memory over the soul, lifting the contem¬ 
 plative mind up to the Great Creator. 
 
INDIAN TRIBES, CHARACTER AND HABITS. 257 
 
 We have reserved what we think proper to say 
 as to the natives, to be given together in a single 
 chapter, rather than to give scattered items and 
 incidents which present themselves to tourists fre¬ 
 quently while in the land of these original inhabi¬ 
 tants. 
 
 Much has been written of the North American 
 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 senti¬ 
 ments have had a charm for the philosopher. Yet, 
 we believe, had Fennimore 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 
 fact and a wonderful amount of fiction. 
 
 Subjects of far-fetched narrations, embellished with 
 the most choice words and beautiful thoughts, often 
 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 West¬ 
 ern 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 can 
 
258 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 life mean to them? What are their joys and sor¬ 
 rows, their fears, hopes and ambitions? What real 
 benefit are they to the world for being in it? All 
 their desires seem to be centered in one, and that 
 in a voracious appetite. He seems to kuow noth¬ 
 ing but his stomach—to get all he can and devour 
 it. The Indian judges all thiugs 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 con¬ 
 ception—only so far as he can better his animal ex¬ 
 istence. Hence, his attentiveness to the white man’s 
 preaching about his wonderful religion, while the In¬ 
 dian desired such a material Heaven, as he could im¬ 
 agine 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 of his 
 bodily wants unsupplied. This reasoning is natur¬ 
 al ; the body must be supplied by civilization, be¬ 
 fore the wants of the soul can be developed and ap¬ 
 preciated, 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 Moun¬ 
 tains. They taught religion first, and every day mat¬ 
 ters of life afterward—and failure was the result. 
 
 My experiences with these people were both un¬ 
 pleasant and agreeable. A little unpleasant, and al- 
 
INDIAN TRIBES, CHARACTER AND HABITS. 250 
 
 eo 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 In¬ 
 dian 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, tak¬ 
 ing 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 calcula¬ 
 ted; 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, and 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 passing the place where they de¬ 
 signed 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 out¬ 
 er wall, where we were secure—not, however, as we 
 
260 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 started, for one of the party was no more—a well- 
 directed bullet from an Indian 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 eagle- 
 eyed 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 
 during the previous day, several small parties of In¬ 
 dians back in the foot-hills, and at one place they 
 dashed 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 with 
 his wagons and yokes. 
 
 We continued on till we came to a small collec¬ 
 tion 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, 
 where they were not discovered until the fatal vol¬ 
 ley was fired, and the immortal spirits traveled to 
 
INDIAN TRIBES, CHARACTER AND HABITS. 261 
 
 another world. They denuded the bodies, scalped 
 them, took the horses and such portions of the har¬ 
 ness and coach trimmings as they wanted, and left 
 all the rest lying on the ground. 
 
 We had a short consultation as to what was best to 
 be done, and concluded to return back to the station 
 six miles, and remain over night, which we did, 
 Starting next morning, we had gone about 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 had 
 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, which 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 encoun¬ 
 tered during the two years and over, that I was in 
 and about the country. Several times, the two-edg 
 ed sword seemed to be suspended with a single hair 
 over my head. Yet, thanks be to God who gave me 
 
262 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 the victory, I escaped unscathed, and left the coun¬ 
 try with much stouter health than I had ever had 
 before. «. 
 
 ty 
 
 There is one element in Indian -character which I 
 am quite persuaded has been misuiiclerstood or falsely 
 represented; that is heroism. 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 pickup a subsistence. They 
 are friendly when not on the war path, and a person 
 
I 
 
 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 sev¬ 
 eral tribes of these children of nature, has been such 
 as to cause me not to yield implicitly to the exag¬ 
 gerations of romance, and those traits which the 
 license of song has assumed, will, in most instances, 
 disappear before the scrutiny of real unbiased in¬ 
 vestigation. The savage-like Falstaff is by nature a 
 coward; also treacherous, cruel and filthy. To show 
 fear is to sharpen his appetite for blood. A deter¬ 
 mined coolness confounds and awes him when any¬ 
 thing will. He will never stand up before deter- • 
 mined 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 suffered while endeavoring to give them the 
 principles of a better life. We have selected Dr. 
 Whitman’s case as a specimen only for what has 
 
264 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 been re-enacted so often from early time to the 
 present. 
 
 This devout and faithful disciple, together with 
 his amiable wife, had labored with these natives, 
 and been a father and mother to them for eleven 
 long years, and the very ones they had taken in the 
 Mission, and almost into the family, when the dread¬ 
 ful 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 a 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 Christ¬ 
 ian’s whole decalogue. 
 
INDIAN TRIBES, CHARACTER AND HABITS. 265 
 
 “ Under the general name of Blackfeet are com¬ 
 prehended several tribes, such as the Surcies, the 
 Pigeons, the Blood Indians, and the Gros Yentries 
 of the Prairies, who roam about the southern branches 
 of the Yellow Stone and Missouri Rivers, together 
 with some other tribes further north. The bands 
 infesting the Wind River Mountains, and the coun¬ 
 try adjacent, at the time we are treating, were Gros 
 Ventres of the Prairies, which are not to be con¬ 
 founded with the Gros Ventres of the Missouri, who 
 keep about the lower part of the river, and are 
 friendly to the white men. This hostile oand keeps 
 about the head waters of the Missouri, and numbers 
 about nine hundred fighting men. Once in the 
 course of two or three years they abandon their 
 usual abodes and make a visit to the Arapahoes of 
 the Arkansas. Their route lies either through the 
 Crow country and the Black Hills, or through the 
 lan-ds ol the Nez Perces, Flatheads, Bannacks and 
 Shoshonees. As they enjoy their favorite state of 
 hostility with all these tribes, their expeditions are 
 prone to be conducted in the most lawless and pre¬ 
 datory style; nor do they hesitate to extend their 
 maraudings to any party of white men the}^ meet 
 with, following their trail, hovering about their 
 camps, waylaying and dogging the caravans of the 
 free traders and murdering the solitary trapper. 
 
INDIAN TRIBES, CHARACTER AND HABITS. 267 
 
 4 
 
 ♦ 
 
 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, per¬ 
 forming; over and about him a numberless amount 
 of charms in a mysterious way. But it was the de¬ 
 cree 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 con¬ 
 vert. A general camp meeting is held for several 
 nights, during which are various performances, such as 
 dancing, 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 Indian doctor. He 
 
268 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 is riot yet fully qualified; lie must attend many 
 courses of lectures, go through many mysterious 
 performances before he is graduated and allowed to 
 heal the sick, to prophesy, dream dreams, and give 
 victory to his people. 
 
 In that great characteristic of all ancient and 
 modern civilization in which other barbarians have 
 not been so deficient, brave as he might be in battle, 
 skillful as he might be in the chase, stoical as he 
 might 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, in¬ 
 stead 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 fe¬ 
 males, all slaves. The fabulous stories of civiliza¬ 
 tion had not changed their simple hearts in this 
 regard. The Indian by nature is lordly* and tyran¬ 
 nical in his treatment ot 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) 
 upon her back when moving, while her great lord 
 
INDIAN MEDICINE MAN. 
 
INDIAN TRIBES, CHARACTER AND HABITS. 269 
 
 and Indian master, unencumbered, save bis gun or 
 bow and arrows, walks as proudly as one having a 
 little brief authority and monarch of all he surveyed. 
 One would suppose that the Indian husband, when 
 judged by the high and humane standard of Chris¬ 
 tianity, 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 Indian’s 
 lordliness and oppression to their females I am per¬ 
 suaded is not caused from the want of native affec¬ 
 tion, but from legendary habit. They seem to think 
 it right, as a matter of course, having never known 
 differently. They never can be made to paddle their 
 Indian canoe kindly on that stream which runs sleep¬ 
 less night and day, gliding through the beautiful 
 reclining meadow of a higher, intelligent, Christian¬ 
 ized domestic life, such as is expressed in the fol- 
 owing stanzas: 
 
 Thou art on my bosom sleeping, 
 
 Gentle, trusting wife of mine; 
 
 And mine eyes are fondly keeping 
 Love’s unwavering watch o’er thine ! 
 
 Hushed shall be my very breath, 
 
 While thy clear heart slumbereth. 
 
 Sleepest thou as slept in Eden, 
 
 Slept in beauty holy Eve— 
 
 Ere her soul with grief was laden— 
 
 Ere her bosom could deceive ; 
 
 Wife ! may thou thus ever be— 
 
 Grief and guile unknown to thee. 
 
BEi'OND 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 art— 
 
 Thine, dear love, a rose-bud heart. 
 
 Round thy neck my arm is wreathing- 
 Softly to thy lip3 I bow; 
 
 And the perfume of thy breathing 
 Plays upon my bending brow. 
 Gentle wife ! that fragrance breathes, 
 From the sweetness of thy soul. 
 
CHAPTER 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 bad 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 Uallack, 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 whoso business 
 it is to furnish meat for a certain number of stations. 
 They are either hired, or sell tho 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 good specimen, the very 
 material of which the heroes of the wilderness, moun¬ 
 tains, traps and hunts, are made. Like Kit Carson, 
 all bone and muscle—a kind of grayhound constitu¬ 
 tion. He was one of those who had trapped and 
 hunted about and over the country for many years, 
 
 N 
 
272 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST, 
 
 and could not, or would not live away from the wild 
 life in the mountains. 
 
 He was one of those few survivors of that some- 
 what mysterious class of old mountaineers which 
 traveled in our imaginations more than reality; who 
 are walking cyclopedias of almost mysterious escapes 
 and exciting adventures—unbound volumes of trav¬ 
 el, incident and romance. Buffalo hunts; desperate 
 
 # v 
 
 encounters with grizzly bears; remarkable wander¬ 
 ings among the mountains when lost; without food; 
 miraculous endurance and hardships; hand to hand 
 wounds in deadly fights with Indians—but he even 
 had been captured after so many hairbreadth es¬ 
 capes from outward enemies. 
 
 He, like many others of the kind, had been sus¬ 
 ceptible to the charms of these dusky beauties of 
 mountains and plains, had set up for himself a loieky- 
 up, as a family man. This is the only authority ac¬ 
 knowledged by an old mountaineer. She usually con¬ 
 trolled in the lodge, (log house now,) regardless of 
 her lord’s bluster outside. He was the traveler’s 
 American Fur Company, and I took great pleasure 
 in visiting his cabin, as he had a retentive memo¬ 
 ry, could relate the most interesting portions of his 
 mountain life—while we at the East roamed the 
 country in imagination, only as that great country 
 beyond the West where the fur trader went for his 
 
ELKHORN STATION. 
 
 273 
 
 peltry, and the home of the adventurous trapper and 
 Indians. 
 
 When meat was needed, he would take his hor¬ 
 ses—one to ride, and the other with a hunter’s pack- 
 saddle, so made that quarters of meat could be hung 
 upon it—and go far away in the mountains for elk 
 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 am¬ 
 bushed, and that the red-skins had long since learn¬ 
 ed, 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; ho would 
 fight, even against superior numbers, for the Indians 
 had both fear and respect for a man who had deter¬ 
 mined courage—who asked no quarter, and would 
 neither give it to others. “ Why,” said he, “ 1 once 
 made over a hundred of the brave Blackfoot Indians 
 run.” “ How could that be possible ?” I asked. “ It 
 was a year when the coppered devils were unusual¬ 
 ly hostile, and took the top of the head off of every 
 white man they could catch. When out hunting on 
 i a fleet horse, I suddenly came upon a war party of 
 them. I turned and ran, and they all chased me /” 
 
 m 
 
 Trappers usually go to the head of streams, far up 
 
 I 
 
 1 .— - 
 
274 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 finally winter in the valley. 
 
 There are three kinds of trappers. The genuine 
 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 coun¬ 
 try 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 furnish¬ 
 ed with their outfit by the company for whom they 
 trapped, were obliged to agree to a certain stipula- 
 
ELKHORN STATION. 275 
 
 ted price for their furs, before the trapping and hunt¬ 
 ing 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 moving 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 apartment 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, on having been a “ mountain man,” and 
 in relating the most striking incidents of his hunt¬ 
 ing and trapping life, from Mexico to British Amer¬ 
 ica, 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 dar¬ 
 ing deeds, and narrow escapes of life, which he is 
 
276 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 dow ready to declare was only so much pastime. 
 He did not, in his romantic and interesting narra¬ 
 tions—extending over many years in these then dis¬ 
 tant 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 bu¬ 
 siness it is to take the supervision—look after the 
 condition of the whole camp; who goes in advance of 
 the column. -Near him is a led mule, of known speed 
 and trustworthiness; he is the portable office of the 
 company; carries the books, papers and the agree¬ 
 ments with their men. Then follow the pack ani¬ 
 mals, 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 children in the caravan, 
 they are all mounted. If the oountry is safe, the 
 caravan moves carelessly, and sometimes scattered. 
 
ELKHORN STATION. 277 
 
 But should danger be apprehended, the whole party 
 move in compact column, fully prepared to resist any 
 attack which could be made against them. A “ lit- 
 tie Booshway,” as he is called, brings up the rear of 
 the party, whose business is to see to the order and 
 condition of the camp, and that nothing is left be¬ 
 hind on the way. When it is time to camp for the 
 night the leader stops, and selects a space which is to 
 be devoted to himself, in its center. The others, as 
 fast as they arrive form a circle, the last man bring¬ 
 ing up the rear to see that all are there. The ani¬ 
 mals are quickly unpacked and turned out to grass, 
 being guarded, but when night approaches they are 
 brought within the circle and picketed, by driving 
 a stake in the ground, to which a rope is fastened. 
 The men are then divided into ^nesses, as in milita¬ 
 ry camp. That part of camp business which con¬ 
 sisted of eating was not one of very much complica¬ 
 tion, where the only article of food is meat raw, roast¬ 
 ed or dried. At a specified time, all is quiet in 
 camp, and the guard only is awake. 
 
 During the night, the officer of the guard gives 
 the guard a challenge, “All’s well!” which is answer¬ 
 ed by all, “ All’s well!” At daylight, after a horse- 
 
 f 
 
 man has galloped at a distance around the camp, to 
 see if all is safe, the horses are turned out to feed, 
 closely guarded; after which, they are driven up, 
 
278 BEYOND THE WEST.v 
 
 repacked, the men mounted, and the train |again 
 moves off in the usual order. In a winter encamp¬ 
 ment, the leader and the second man occupy about 
 the same positions. Other regulations are observed. 
 
 The business of the trapper during the season of 
 trapping is only to trap and look after his two horses, 
 and when he returns at night he takes his beavers 
 to the clerk, where they are counted and placed to 
 his credit. The camp men take off the skins and 
 prepare them for packing. While they are in 
 camp there are six persons to each lodge, four trap¬ 
 pers and two camp-keepers; consequently the trap¬ 
 pers are well cared for, having but little to dp 
 \aside from occasionally hunting for the camp. 
 When the hunters return with a quantity of meat 
 it is deposited in front of the Booshway’s lodge, 
 and the second man cuts it in pieces, or causes it to 
 be done. When the men come they turn their 
 backs to the pile, and the “ smaller Booshway” takes 
 a piece, and holding it up, asks: “Who will have 
 this?” The man answering says, “Number ten,” or 
 fifteen, meaning his lodge. The number is then 
 called to come for the meat. In this impartial 
 blind way the meat is distributed, and it is a way 
 which must be satisfactory to all. 
 
 A gun is never fired in camp under any circum¬ 
 stances short of an Indian attack. The guns are 
 
 * 
 
- - —,—- 
 
 J 
 
 ELKHORN STATION. 279 
 
 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 care¬ 
 less camp-keeper. 
 
 When the camp breaks up in the spring, the skins 
 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 
 each time 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. Con¬ 
 stant vigilance all over the country was truly the 
 price of life and property. 
 
 The frequent incidents of a trapper's life fur¬ 
 nishes 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. 
 
280 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 The winter rendezvous of the American Fur Com¬ 
 pany 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 grass, 
 having extensive cotton wood bottoms, a favorite 
 place of the Company’s to make their winter, en¬ 
 campment. Our hunter made up one of this camp, 
 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 snow 
 was falling about and over them. Being now filled 
 with the creature comfort, their ever ready gun be¬ 
 side them, no Indians or wild animals disturbed 
 “ nature’s sweet restorer,” sleep. 
 
 Our hero trapper was awakened about day¬ 
 light 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 guessing determined who the 
 early morning intruder might be. It was disagree¬ 
 ably certain that an old grizzly bear, whose keen 
 
TEAR TAKING MEAT FROM UNDER 
 
 4 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 V 
 
 ■ 
 
 <. 
 
 
 
 ♦ 
 
 t 
 
 - 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 
 
 
ELKHORN STATION. * 281 
 
 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! no! 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 un¬ 
 der ground while that bear promenaded over and 
 around us! 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 im¬ 
 pudence, 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 moun¬ 
 tains. Fuel was difficult to obtain, and a supply of 
 meat still more so. The buffalo had been driven in 
 
282 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 tbe fall east of the mountains, and other game was 
 scarce. Often a party of hunters would be out for 
 days 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 pro¬ 
 posed 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 de¬ 
 clared himself as brave as the others and prepared 
 to follow. 
 
 On entering the cave, which was sixteen or twenty 
 
ELKHORN STATION. 
 
 283 
 
 feet square, and high enough to stand erect in, in¬ 
 stead 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 to be dis¬ 
 posed of, 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, 
 which, however, seemed to take no notice of them. 
 After manoeuvering 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 ot 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 bears now re¬ 
 mained 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 vociferated 
 while they drove out the third and smaller bear. As it 
 
284 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 reached the cave’s month three simultaneous shots 
 put an end to the last one, when Anderson’s excite¬ 
 ment knew no bounds. “ Daniel was a humbug,” 
 said he. “Daniel in the lions’den! Of course it 
 was winter, and the lions were sucking their paws ! 
 Tell me no more of Daniel’s exploits. We are as 
 good Daniels as he ever dared to be. Hurrah for 
 these Daniels!” 
 
 With these expressions, and playing 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 the fall, where they remained 
 during the trapping season, and then passed down 
 
ELKHORN STATION. 
 
 285 
 
 through Arizona to New Mexico and wintered on 
 the Gila and the Rio Grande Rivers. 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, An¬ 
 derson and Mitchel, together with three Indian 
 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 Canaanche country, and 
 knew full well what to expect if taken prisoners. 
 They took a hasty observation of their foes, and 
 full two hundred Camanckes, 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! ,J 
 There is a chance for life until the breath is out of 
 the body, is the rule of true mountain men like these. 
 
286 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 To the ground they sprang, placing their mules, 
 seven of them, in a circle, cut their throats almost 
 in an instant with their keen hunting knives, and 
 held them in their places till each animal fell dead. 
 Then hastily throwing up what dirt they could with 
 their hands and knives, they made themselves a fort, 
 —a hole for each man to stand in, with a dead mule 
 for a breastwork. Soon the' Camanches came up 
 and made a dash on them, the great medicine man 
 in advance, gesticulating and making a desperate 
 noise with a little rattle which he shook violently. 
 The whooping and brandishing of weapons, and the 
 dash of the charge, was at least somewhat impressive. 
 
 But the little garrison in its mule fort was un¬ 
 usually mulish and did not waver; but the Caman- 
 che horses did. They could not be made to charge 
 upon the bloody carcasses of the mules, nor neai 
 enough for them to throw a spear into the fortifica¬ 
 tion. 
 
 This was just what the trappers had relied upon. 
 They were determined, yet much excited by their 
 remarkably exposed situation. It was arranged that 
 but three should fire at a time, the other three re¬ 
 serving their fire till the empty guns could be 
 reloaded. Each one was to select his man and Jull at 
 every shot. This they did. Their horses could not 
 be urged upon the slaughtered mules. The three 
 
I 
 
 ELKHORN STATION. 287 
 
 whites fired first, and the medicine man and two 
 other Camanches fell. 
 
 When a medicine man is killed the others retire, 
 hpld a council, and appoint another, for without 
 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 de¬ 
 parted, another chief was appointed to the head 
 place, and another furious 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 
 and again the Camanches made a fruitless charge— 
 losing, as often as they repeated it, three warriors, 
 either dead or Avounded. 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 ap¬ 
 proached the fort to carry off the fallen warriors, 
 they mocked and reviled the little band of trappers, 
 calling them “ women ” for fighting in a fort, and re¬ 
 sorting to the usual Indian ridicule and gasconade. 
 Occasionally, also, a warrior raced at full speed past 
 
 V 
 
/ 
 
 288 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 burn¬ 
 ing sun of the plains shone on them, scorching them 
 to faintness. Their faces were begrimmed with pow- 
 der and dust, their throats parched, and tongues 
 swollen with thirst, and their whole frames aching 
 from their cramped positions, as well as the excite¬ 
 ment and fatigue of the battle. 
 
 But they dared not relax their vigilance for a mo¬ 
 ment. 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 ef¬ 
 fective, and came to the conclusion that the trap¬ 
 per’s medicine possessed wonderful killing proper¬ 
 ties ! When sable night had spread its shadows over 
 the embattled and now memorable mule-fort, tho six 
 heroes who had contended successfully against a hun¬ 
 dred brave Camanches, took each his blanket and 
 his gun, “ thankful 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 camp. 
 
ELKHORN STATION. 
 
 289 
 
 During many years of out-door life of toil, watch¬ 
 fulness and peril, the mountain trapper had acquir¬ 
 ed the habit, like the Indians, that when ho had a 
 journey to perform, or was going on express busi¬ 
 ness, he would take a dog-trot, and travel all day in 
 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 great¬ 
 est suffering I ever experienced. It is far worse 
 than hunger or pain.” * 
 
 They remained here, rested and renewed their ex¬ 
 hausted energies, and Avent on without hindrance, 
 until they arrived at camp, in that beautiful spot in 
 the Rocky Mountains, now called South Park; and 
 here we leave them, glad to know that, after their re¬ 
 markable escape with their lives and hardships, they 
 are safely in this agreeably romantic spot in the 
 mountains. 
 
t 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE EOAD FROM CHEYENNE—CHURCH BUTE—UP AND 
 OYER A WILDERNESS OF MOUNTAIN RANGES—UPON 
 THE SUMMIT—DOWN THE PACIFIC SLOPE—RE¬ 
 MARKABLE ROCK FORMATIONS—ECHO 
 CANYON—WEBER VALLEY—MOR¬ 
 MON SETTLEMENTS. 
 
 1 am here; there is no mistake about that, with 
 one of the very best prospects of my remaining 
 for some time to come. Day after day, here, close 
 under the high, broad mountains, among the child- 
 hills about “T^chorn^Station,” the battle was re¬ 
 newed, not with Indians, but with mosquitoes. It 
 would seem that they had been whetting their nee¬ 
 dles on a smooth mountain peak hard by, anticipating 
 our stay. Washington Irving informs us that a 
 certain people in early time, on the Hudson 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 suc¬ 
 cessful, so completely did they envelop the town 
 with the smoke of their large, well-filled pipes. 
 When we enveloped ourselves in a cloud of smoke 
 the enemy’s forces would ■ fall back, but as soon as 
 our smoked forms came out to view, mountains that 
 
THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. 
 
 291 
 
 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 came on, like the Goths and Vandals, from the 
 mountains in numbers which could not be overcome, 
 when we would retreat in “good order” to the 
 smudge. Remaining here was more troublesome 
 than fighting Indians—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 was “ bleeding” even unto death, and de¬ 
 manded of all good people a generous liberality. A 
 large, good-looking man entered, as one having au¬ 
 thority, a negro’s barber shop in a certain place 
 known as 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 Gobbler ob Kansas?” 
 
 “ Yes.” 
 
 “ Well, I’d rader dese gobblers would pay by do 
 shave, 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 
 
 292 BEYOND THE WEST, 
 
 her bread and elk meat feast. These were the only 
 articles that remained with ns, 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 num¬ 
 ber 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 sup¬ 
 plies 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 board 
 doors were perforated with bullet holes, like a skim¬ 
 mer, 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 by 
 time and the work of the natural elements into archi¬ 
 tectural grandeur; some quite beautiful. Church 
 
I 
 
 THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. 293 
 
 Bute is an unshapely mountain of bare gray earth, 
 hundreds of feet high, covered partly with decom¬ 
 posed sandstone, while other portions present the 
 appearance of a vast cathedral in all conditions of 
 badly ruined greatness; solid and crumbling walls, 
 small and large towers, smooth and sculptured pyra¬ 
 mids, whole and broken; recesses holding sculptured 
 figures. Time’s pitiless elements have worked in 
 this soft rock a wonderful variety of forms, both cu¬ 
 rious and interesting. 
 
 None of the accounts of travel seem fully to de¬ 
 scribe the many remarkable peculiarities of these 
 mountains, (neither do I think they ever can be,) 
 and those general characteristics which all moun¬ 
 tainous^ regions have in common. At every turn in 
 the road the tourist is introduced to new views 
 equally strange and remarkable. No man’s imagina¬ 
 tion can picture the piled-up magnificence and 
 wildness that may be seen in traveling over this 
 most desolate and yet most interesting portion of 
 our continent; a panorama of grandeur and varied 
 beauty such as pen and pencil can never reproduce. 
 As we pass on up towards the more central ranges 
 the nights grow very cold, while the day would be 
 like an Italian summer. While passing over some 
 of these ranges the cold was severe, when we could 
 look down upon a sunny valley warm with genial 
 
S294 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 heat, and also look up to the eternal snows which 
 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 £ 
 higher slopes of the mountains are covered with the 
 white mantle of perpetual snow, and cover their 
 heads with the clouds. Their naked sides are cov¬ 
 ered with volcanic rocks, a substance resembling 
 the slag formed in iron furnaces blasted out by sub¬ 
 terraneous fires. At length we attained the most 
 desolate part of the road. The hills seemed iron 
 and the heavens brass; all those sources of utility 
 and beauty which, from their being so generally 
 diffused through liberal nature, are generally con¬ 
 sidered as things, of course were over this region 
 omitted. The mountains on either side of the 
 road presented a scene that had been cheered by the 
 beauty of no vegetation since the waters of the 
 deluge had subsided and the dove left the old patri¬ 
 arch’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 upon the divide, nine hun¬ 
 dred feet above sea level, there were no ranges 
 above us, but mountain peaks seemed to penetrate 
 the clouds on either hand. Large fields of snow 
 
THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. 
 
 295 
 
 came nearly to the wagon road, a few steps on either 
 side. A party could take an old fashioned snow¬ 
 balling in July. But of this youthful diversion we 
 wanted but little here below, 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 in the eternal snows of the dividing range 
 with which to feed both oceans. Amid the surround¬ 
 ing grand desolation there are elements of unusual 
 interest and beauty: the piled-up magnificence of 
 the wilderness of mountain ranges, with their many 
 sentinel watch-towers overlooking and defending, 
 with parental solicitude, the smaller and more de¬ 
 pendent 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 circum¬ 
 stances, for a scanty subsistence. Altogether, the 
 view presents unusual completeness of extent and 
 varied majestic beauty unsurpassed. Many moun¬ 
 tain 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 around 
 
N 
 
 296 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 them the white mantle of perpetual snow and cover 
 their heads with the clouds. Many of these peaks 
 are torn and furrowed to their center, and some¬ 
 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 ot silence, unimpressible both to summer sun¬ 
 shine and rigid winter’s strength. 
 
 We were fortunate to attain the Pass early in the 
 forenoon, (one of those beautiful days in early sum¬ 
 mer of which this country lias so many,) enabling us 
 to fully enjoy the magnificent views—ample com¬ 
 pensation for a long stage journey. To those accus¬ 
 tomed 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 sum¬ 
 mit, when their horses were exhausted, and they 
 stopped, taking the mails and baggage, with which 
 they made themselves a fort, and lay down in it. 
 There being five of them, well armed with rifles, 
 breech-loaders, they were able to make a good de- 
 
THE ROAD PROM CHEYENNE. 
 
 297 
 
 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. Prom the 
 higher ranges could be seen mountain slopes of vari¬ 
 ous hue, doffed with low bushy evergreen shrubs 
 streaked with snow, almost hid in the distance amid 
 fleecy clouds. But at length a few green valleys 
 could be seeu, 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: 
 
 “If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright, 
 
 Go visit it by the pale moonlight.” 
 
 Soon after the great moon ro3o over the eastern 
 
298 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 mountains, we came to the ruins. Here may be seen 
 the old Cathedral and the Palace; there the new; 
 some streets having on either side once magnificent • 
 blocks of buildings and lofty domes, 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 col¬ 
 umn 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 remarka¬ 
 ble variety of monuments and statuary, of humanity 
 and animals. No place can be found having a great¬ 
 er variety of the kind, or of more magnificence. 
 Over and through these remarkable imitations of 
 departed greatness, as one is compelled to imagine 
 them, where 
 
 “ Distance lends enchantment to the view, 
 
 And rohes the mountains in its azure hue.” 
 
 It reminds one forcibly of some of the o*oce 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 great¬ 
 ness or present ruin. We pass mountain ranges, low 
 divides; cross and go down the beds of departed riv- 
 
THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. 299 
 
 era, with rough and smooth walls, sometimes one and 
 two thousand feet high, through Echo Canyon. 
 
 This deep, narrow opening through the mountain 
 is about twenty miles in length, and is in some pla¬ 
 ces arched by overhanging small trees and 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 can¬ 
 yon to give battle to their invaders—a Gibraltar of 
 defense in and of itself. 
 
 We enter a productive valley, dotted with culti¬ 
 vated fields and greensward, having a clear, beauti¬ 
 ful river, where the comforts of civilization were 
 present. The contrast was unusually agreeable, hav¬ 
 ing been so long away from such pleasant indications 
 of our home life. 
 
 The country through which we have passed, al¬ 
 though grand and majestic to look upon, is almost 
 a barren land, save wild sago and cactus, the naked 
 mountains, dreary ashen hills of earth, immense 
 wastes, white with alkali, the ground parched and 
 gullied, a country more varied but as barren as the 
 

 ✓ 
 
 300 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 ev¬ 
 idence of the latter—the first truly “ square meal,” 
 without even the edges taken off, for two weeks. 
 r His youngest, black-eyed and black-haired wife, done 
 the honors of the table, equally well as we done hon¬ 
 or to her bountiful repast. 
 
 The driver informed us that his churchship was 
 very destitute just then; some of his former help¬ 
 meets 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 prosperi¬ 
 ty 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 
 
rHE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. 
 
 301 
 
 with but one of his wives—two small one-story square 
 adobe houses on either side of him—a wife and fam¬ 
 ily in each. He has only five wives. 
 
 Through the country, one can generally tell if 
 these lords of the plough have more than one wife, 
 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 in¬ 
 teresting. 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 
 an extensive and beautiful valley, one of the most 
 picturesque in the mountains. The gently flowing, 
 sparkling waters of the modern Jordan, making to¬ 
 wards 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 apd fertility to the valley. As 
 far as the vision can extend, north and south, stretch¬ 
 ed the green valley, spotted with fields of grain, fruit 
 ^ and gardens, with herds of horses and cattle, and its 
 skimming lakes, bounded ultimately by a wall of 
 
302 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 mountain. The valley is bounded on either side 
 with lofty mountain slopes, green at the base, then 
 gray, their highest summits white with eternal snow, 
 combining in one matchless view summer and win¬ 
 ter, the sunny skies of Italy, and the frozen snows 
 of Switzerland. We look down upon a peculiar peo¬ 
 ple, and a city equally peculiar, different in more 
 ways than one from any other in our wide and broad 
 land. A stranger standing here would, on looking 
 down upon the City of Great Salt Lake, ask at once 
 what peculiar people live here. The unusual pub¬ 
 lic erections and cloistered homes of church dignita¬ 
 ries, would readily excite his curiosity. The city 
 from hero offers both a beautiful and a romantic 
 view, built by a people in whose history there is the 
 romance of remarkable fanaticism, and the romance 
 of suffering; while you are indignant over their as¬ 
 sumption of religion, you are in admiration and as¬ 
 tonishment over their industry. 
 
 On the gentle slope of the mountain, upon a largo 
 area of table-land before us, is the mountain home of 
 a now large and beautiful city. The streets are 
 four miles in length—run east and west, north and 
 south. They are each eight rods wide, and are per¬ 
 fectly straight each way. On either side of every 
 street runs a stream of the purest mountain water, 
 and rows and double-rows of a variety of shade trees 
 
THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. 
 
 303 
 
 are growing luxuriantly along every water-course. 
 To stand here and look down upon the many 
 sparkling rivulets running in all directions along 
 the streets, it would seem some of them were rim¬ 
 ing up hill; but nevertheless they are hastily glid¬ 
 ing through every street in the town. The city is 
 laid out so as to have just ten acres in each square, 
 and these are sub-divided 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 varieties 
 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 en¬ 
 closure is nothing but parched, barren sand and the 
 ever present sage, and his own now beautiful and 
 fruitful 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. The abundant and constant supply of water 
 makes a very heavy vegetable growth. 
 
 Among this dense shrubbery is the environed 
 dwelling house, made of adobe brick, i. e., clay un¬ 
 burnt. The bricks are four times larger than our 
 
304 BEYOND THE 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 acre squares rises up a 
 remarkable building, oval in shape, and covered with 
 one 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 numer¬ 
 ous 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.” 
 
THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. 
 
 305 
 
 The school register bore the names of fifty odd 
 pupils, all his own sons and daughters; but there 
 were not over 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 few of 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 li 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 east¬ 
 ern range, high above the valley,and view the most 
 beautiful spot on which the sun ever shone. Thus 
 
306 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 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 is 
 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 the southward and two hundred in the op¬ 
 posite way, and in all about one hundred thousaud 
 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 aro 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 in this land of show¬ 
 ers have comprehended. For thousands of years 
 irrigation has made the country along the river Nile 
 the garden of the world. 
 
X. 
 
 THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. 307 
 
 To supply Salt Lake City \yitli 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 ill a small river be¬ 
 fore arriving at the city. But during the time of 
 irrigation, after the parched earth has been sup¬ 
 plied, 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 wator is available 
 the rest is easy; build a cayote house, which one man 
 can do in a day, then set up housekeeping and be¬ 
 gin farming. 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 theii 
 law) enables him to build one of adobe brick. 
 
 There is through all this country a horizontal 
 rather than a perpendicular agriculture adapted tc 
 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. Hero 
 are at least in all one hundred and twenty thousand 
 
 l 
 
308 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, uncomplaining 
 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 physi¬ 
 cally, 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 own 
 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 economi¬ 
 cal conglomerated people have taken from the most 
 forbidding frowns of forbidding nature a country 
 
I 
 
 THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. 
 
 309 
 
 and 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 atmos¬ 
 phere lung and throat diseases have no chance. 
 Sad experience has shown the folly of sending con¬ 
 sumptives 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 col¬ 
 umn of boiling "water as large round as a man's body ;' 
 some moderately warm and less active, while others 
 
S10 
 
 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 sulphuric 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 102° Fah.; sulphur pre¬ 
 dominating, like'the spring at Sharon and Richfield, 
 but less odorous. The sulphurous smell and great 
 clouds of steam and mist rising, with a back-ground of 
 purple mountains, would have been declared by the 
 ancients as the very largest mouth of Tartarus. 
 
 Salt Lake valley has its own system of rivers and 
 lakes, different in some respects from any other. 
 
 “The entire great Utah Basin is divided by small 
 ranges of mountains about two thousand feet high, 
 forming 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 no¬ 
 ted Death Valley, so called from the fact, that in 1850, 
 a large train of emigrants en route to California, be¬ 
 came discontented with their Mormon guide, and a 
 portion of them decided to pilot for themselves. 
 
 After traveling three days they reached the val- 
 
THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. 
 
 311 
 
 ley, which is some fifty miles long by thirty in 
 breadth, lower than the sea level, and entirely des¬ 
 titute 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, glar¬ 
 ing sand. 
 
 The 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 glar¬ 
 ing 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 this 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 you look down upon a vast ex¬ 
 tent of country, with its hillsides and valleys, plains 
 and glens; while the Virgin River is seen rounding, 
 its course along the foot of the rauge many miles- 
 
312 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 now overflowing a valley, here gliding beneath over¬ 
 hanging cliffs, leaping from rock to rock, and then in 
 grand cascades rolling off granite ledges in sheets of 
 feathery foam, on its way to join the Colorado. In 
 the dim vista appear ragged peaks rising tumultu¬ 
 ously heavenward, tinted by the sunshine that streams 
 through the mighty ravines and hollows, filling 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 sea¬ 
 son 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 quarter of a 
 
 * 
 
 mile long and an eighth wide. This area is one mass 
 of soft mud, through which steam and water are con- 
 
THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. 313 
 
 etantly 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, sputter¬ 
 ing noise; in other spots it bursts out with an explo¬ 
 sion, 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 en¬ 
 circled by incrustations and arborescent concretions 
 of lime and deposits of sulphur. They are well 
 worth a visit, though an excursion to them is attend¬ 
 ed by serious hardships. 
 
 Among other objects of note are the Summit Soda 
 Springs, situated seven miles south 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 contin¬ 
 uous succession of natural beauties of forests, glades, 
 streamlets and mountains* 
 
314 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 The springs are near the head waters of the Amer¬ 
 ican 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 min¬ 
 eral water is most agreeable and apetizing, possess¬ 
 ing great medicinal virtues in the cure of affections 
 of the digestive organs. The springs can be reach¬ 
 ed without fatigue by invalids; and the rough log 
 cabin, now the only house, will be replaced this sea¬ 
 son by a neat hotel, erected by the railroad compa¬ 
 ny. The marvelous beauties of this wild region will 
 make it the future Saratoga of the Pacific.” 
 
 Tlie 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, dur¬ 
 ing 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 trans¬ 
 parent, excessively salt, and forms one of the most 
 concentrated brines known. No animal or vegeta- 
 
THE ROAD FROM CHEYENNE. 315 
 
 * 
 
 ble life can be found in it. Everything in the wa- 
 
 > 
 
 ter is incrusted with salt—the want of vegetable mat¬ 
 ter for food must necessarily exclude all kinds of ani¬ 
 mated 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 shoul¬ 
 ders. Swimming in it is difficult, on account of keep¬ 
 ing 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, trans¬ 
 parent 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 some¬ 
 what 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 
 
316 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 grav¬ 
 ity 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 punish¬ 
 ment, 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 high¬ 
 est executive ability—would have succeeded in any 
 branch of a business life he might have undertaken. 
 
 Personally, he treated me with liberality and kind¬ 
 ness, as the Mormons do all those who visit among 
 them, and do not make themselves obnoxious by 
 undue interference with them. In a rambling con¬ 
 versation with Brigham Young, I referred to Joseph 
 Smith, as not having an unspotted reputation when 
 
SUNDAY IN SALT LAKE CITY. 317 
 
 he lived in.my State—not a good citizen. “ The GeD 
 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 em¬ 
 brace any man in my religion; but, Brother Smith, 
 (they always address each other as brother and sis¬ 
 ter,) established a religion that will save us, if wo 
 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. 
 
 Mr. 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 tho 
 only Church, in their inflated imaginations—that in, 
 to keep unspotted from the world a peculiarly favor¬ 
 ed few of the human family. The day is observed 
 and respected, as far as a stranger can see about tho 
 city with decorum, amongst all the inhabitants there¬ 
 of. All seem to put themselves on Sabbath day be¬ 
 havior, at least on the streets. 
 
 The chosen people of God are coming from the 
 East and the West, the North and the South—from 
 
318 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 9 
 
 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 finding 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 be¬ 
 came crowded, the entrances filled, and many out¬ 
 side 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 aro at one end of the 
 house with the organ; while at the other there is 
 erected a gallery capable of seating one hundred and 
 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 devo- • 
 ted. bigoted, deluded, ignorant followers. 
 
 The choir sing a hymn, then preaching begins, 
 and the sacrament is administered at the same time. 
 
SUNDAY IN SALT LAKE CITY. 319 
 
 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 re¬ 
 peated 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 he 
 wishes. The preaching is more after the order of a 
 political convention in the States than Church wor¬ 
 ship. No text is taken, but any one of the priest¬ 
 hood 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 re¬ 
 sist the wickedness of the gentile world. Brigham 
 deprecated severely the dissenters from the Church; 
 
 * 
 
320 BEYOND THE WEST, 
 
 called them some names that would not look well on 
 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 Christ 
 wmuld be there to judge a sinful tvorld. 
 
 I 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 nationali¬ 
 ties 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 gram¬ 
 matical standard of the English language with which 
 your humble correspondent is acquainted. They 
 are a heterogeneous community, mostly of the work- 
 • ing class from the old countries, bigoted, and con¬ 
 trolled by a few more intelligent leaders. 
 
SUNDAY IN SALT LAKE CITY. o21 
 
 t 
 
 Brigham Young rules all things in Heaven above 
 and in the Earth beneath as to Marmondom; all 
 things are measured and controlled by his Church 
 standard. There was no other Church in Utah un¬ 
 til 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 suc¬ 
 cessful, 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 largo 
 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 humap industry and skill produces is 
 used for that purpose. The church property is lo¬ 
 cated 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 accommo¬ 
 dating ten thousand people; covers the most ground 
 
/ 
 
 322 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 in winter. The superstructure is one of 
 the most perfect specimens of architecture that can 
 be found anywhere; its amplitude and beauty de¬ 
 mands 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 as¬ 
 piration and perpetuate the ignominious name and 
 fame of a great self-styled 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 earn¬ 
 ings 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 man¬ 
 kind 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 
 
 
 i 
 
MORMON TABERNACLE AND ENDOWMENT HOUSE. 
 

 
MORMON SETTLEMENTS. 
 
 325 
 
 written by a Salt Lake City poetess, on the receipt 
 of the telegraph news of the assassination of Presi¬ 
 dent 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! 
 
 O ! the sorrow of a nation 
 Mourning for its murdered chief. 
 
 Strongest arms were closely folded, 
 
 Most impassioned lips at rest; 
 
 Scarcely seemed a heaving motion 
 In the nation’s wounded breast. 
 
 Tears were frozen in their sources, 
 
 Blushes burned themselves away, 
 
 Language hied 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 nation , 
 
 Till its tear-drops inward bleed. 
 
 The government of the Mormons bears a resem¬ 
 blance 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 
 
324 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 
 
 • t 
 
 do whatever his false professorship may desire, and 
 thus proselyte a poor, ignorant multitude of follow¬ 
 ers. 
 
 While speaking of these eratic people we are re¬ 
 minded of the domestic relations of Turkey, the 
 government of which is an absolute monarchy. So 
 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 reve- 
 lator 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. 
 
 In Turkey the Sultan is supreme, uniting in his 
 
MORMON SETTLEMENTS. 325 
 
 person the highest spiritual dignity with the su¬ 
 preme 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¬ 
 homet. 
 
 Brigham Young also took up the Mormon’s slaugh¬ 
 tered prophet’s sword, where it was stricken from 
 his hand, and is (at least in his own estimation) ap¬ 
 pointed 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 Yoimg gives his Koran a very liberal 
 construction, and also takes as many wives as Ids 
 fancy dictates. The lives of the women of an im¬ 
 perial 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 indus¬ 
 trious and economical. His wives each have separate 
 
326 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 apartments, take care of tlieir 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 mar¬ 
 riage, as understood by a Christianized people, has 
 no place in Turkey. 
 
 Mr. Young’s family does not number 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 prac¬ 
 tices 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 main land, fragrant with the holy associa¬ 
 tions 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, 
 
MORMON SETTLEMENTS. 
 
 327 
 
 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! 
 
 % 
 
 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 upon the troubled sea 
 Thou hast thrown a gem unheeded, 
 
 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 scattered— 
 
 Gently, oh! 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 om 
 prejudices before going among them, and with diffi¬ 
 culty could they be wholly overcome; yet we tried 
 
328 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 to get. right impressions—to see and know them as 
 they are in 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—in¬ 
 flexible in its exactions, omnipresent in its watch¬ 
 fulness, foresighted in its plans and unscrupulous in 
 getting means to attain its ends. 
 
 One receives the impression that Brigham Young, 
 is general proprietor—owns everything, the real es¬ 
 tate, the industry, machinery, animals, and all the 
 Mormons. Indirectly he does, because he has no supe¬ 
 rior power on earth—is a prophet, inspired of Heav¬ 
 en; can do no wrong; is too superhuman to be ques¬ 
 tioned; 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. 
 
 His position is such, that if he does not violate 
 
 human nature, and take from honest toil and honesty 
 ’ t . • 
 
 enough to enrich himself beyond all other men, it is 
 
 not for lack of opportunity, or authority, or induce¬ 
 ment to take it, for he holds in the eyes of his peo¬ 
 ple all the authority that heaven and earth can be¬ 
 stow upon him—he alone is prophet and king! 
 
 Not a man, among all his subjects, dares to dis- 
 
MORMON SETTLEMENTS. 329 
 
 regard his orders. Notwithstanding this would-be 
 great “ I am” power, who has enriched himself be¬ 
 yond any other man in this country, from the hard 
 labor of an ignorant multitude of followers, yet I 
 freely confess that much good has been done, in gath¬ 
 ering the poor from various parts of the land; unit¬ 
 ing them together; making them earn a better living 
 than they ever had before; and as much, if not more 
 civilization than they had before coming here. 
 
 Viewing these people in the light of the high civ- 
 yization which charaterizes our people of the pres¬ 
 ent day, we must regard the Mormon system as insuf¬ 
 ferable licentiousness. This heavy, dark cloud of a 
 dark night, which they spread over themselves, seems 
 too obscure, and almost covers up that which, under 
 other circumstances, would receive the enthusiastic 
 praise of all good people, for what they have done 
 towards developing our country under so many ad¬ 
 verse circumstances. 
 
 These people must be under the influence of a fa¬ 
 naticism, remarkable for this enlightened age, when . 
 they believe that the Prophet Smith, in 182G, found 
 in the depth of the earth, brass plates that had been 
 there for many centuries, by a perpetual miracle in 
 the State of New York, town of Palmyra—that the 
 plates were so ancient that no one but he, the mirac¬ 
 ulously endowed, could decipher the wonderful lan 
 
830 
 
 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!) while another man wrote 
 down the revelation—which made the Book of Mor¬ 
 mon. Nothing but a remarkable fanaticism could 
 entertain such material; every principle of humanity 
 and common sense is outraged by its sacrilegious pre¬ 
 tensions. The leading principle of their faith and 
 practice does not seem to have been on the miracu* 
 lous 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 institu¬ 
 ted before the foundation of the world, and was given 
 him to establish the fullness of his glory: “ And ver¬ 
 ily, 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 whose¬ 
 soever sins you retain on earth, shall be retained in 
 Heaven.” Such an assumption of superhuman pow- 
 
MORMON SETTLEMENTS. 
 
 331 
 
 er can be entertained only by a person filled with 
 feverish fanaticism. 
 
 Plurality of wives, more especially with the offi¬ 
 cers of the Church, seems to be the ground work of 
 their faith, and they pride themselves on the num¬ 
 ber they have, and can be made to live with them 
 reconciled, and be peaceful, rival wives. They, like 
 the Indians owning horses, seem to feel their superi¬ 
 ority, 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 little wonder, when we Gentiles are 
 obliged to work in season and out of season some¬ 
 times 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 outer world. They are no doubt hav- 
 
332 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 hope, perse¬ 
 cute a hundred thousand people by making war upon 
 their homes, yet they cannot be received into the 
 community of States, as long as such a system pre¬ 
 vails among them, for in that event all the leaders 
 would be fit subjects for the Penitentiary! 
 
 Mormonism is a dark spot on our now clear-shin¬ 
 ing 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 reli¬ 
 gion. The past history of these people shows be¬ 
 yond all question that their peculiar institution can¬ 
 not be sustained. When surrounded by a high stand¬ 
 ard of civilization, it must either go down or travel 
 to some uninhabited country. While they were al¬ 
 most hid away from the outer world, in their moun¬ 
 tain 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 
 

 MORMON SETTLEMENTS- 333 
 
 system; but now, when the iron track has climbed 
 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¬ 
 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 reestab¬ 
 lish the supremacy of our Government, Young very 
 well knows that rebellion would be utter ruin—that 
 the very first attempt of resistance to this Govern¬ 
 ment 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 
 
BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 O Q A 
 
 oo*± 
 
 railroads have brought tho world to them as of old, 
 and they must now compete for commerce and busi¬ 
 ness, as they are no longer able to keep them away 
 by high-handed laws. 
 
 We can see no great brilliant future for Mormon- 
 ism. This, like all unnatural, unholy mushroom-isms, 
 after a brief existence, must die and be buried—no¬ 
 body but its own votaries cares how. The dictates, 
 the instincts of every unbiased heart's past experi¬ 
 ence; the general spirit ol our country; our great 
 civilization, and the teachings of religion, hold out 
 their hands to remove this dark page from our Na¬ 
 tional history. 
 
 The sooner Brigham Young receives another crown¬ 
 ing revelation, that polygamy is no longer to be tol¬ 
 erated, the better. We were in several families 
 while in Salt Lake City, where there were from two 
 to eight wives; but it was seldom I could see more 
 than one about the house; the others would dodge, 
 and keep where they could not be seen, as if con¬ 
 scious of their degradation in the presence of stran¬ 
 gers. One can easily see that they are victims of 
 deep shame, and who would rejoice at deliverance, 
 notwithstanding her sainted lord’s preaching to make 
 her believe that her forced life is sanctioned by reli 
 gion, and that her heaven will be happy only in pro¬ 
 portion as she conforms to his wishes, and is obedi 
 
r 
 
 THE CONTINENTAL RAILROADS. 335 
 
 ent to his requirements. God created in the full¬ 
 ness of perfection, one man and one woman in Eden, 
 and gave them to each other. These, with their chil¬ 
 dren, make the family—the home. Whoever pre¬ 
 tends 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 pleas¬ 
 ure and profit before its remarkable nature. 
 
 THE CONTINENTAL RAILROADS—THE MIDLAND ROUTE 
 AGREED UPON BY CONGRESS. 
 
 Our space will not permit of more than a brief ref¬ 
 erence to the origin, history and completion of this 
 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, over 
 the plains, in a cloud of alkaline dust which his team 
 made—a long journey of terrible suffering, to men 
 and animals, from exposure, hard labor, hunger and 
 thirst. Should the emigrant be unfortunate, and be 
 caught out in winter, it would take five months long¬ 
 er, with sufferings and dangers increased. Notwith¬ 
 standing the remarkable deprivations and sufferings 
 
336 
 
 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 popu¬ 
 lation three times as large as the Nation did the first 
 sixty-eight years after the landing of the Pilgrims. 
 Such was the love of shining gold! 
 
 Twenty-three 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 tbo 
 now great city of Chicago were then just planted in 
 the centre of a vast unoccupied prairie. Then trap¬ 
 pers and tribes of Indians seemed to own all the ter¬ 
 ritory west of the Mississippi. Here lay compara¬ 
 tively an unknown land of two thousand three hun¬ 
 dred miles, across which Plumb’s railroad,* more a 
 dream than a reality, was to bo 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 
 
THE CONTINENTAL RAILROADS. 337 
 
 obtain either encouragement or aid, and his project 
 failed. Thomas H. Benton, twenty years ago, advo¬ 
 cated 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 lan¬ 
 guage, in his address before the first National Con¬ 
 vention, 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 Con¬ 
 gress 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 Bast by traveling West. He finds him stop¬ 
 ped by a Continent which he discovered—yet his 
 great thought—“ find the East by going West’ 7 —has 
 never died. Franklin, Kane, and many other navi¬ 
 gators, sacrificed their lives in attempting to solve 
 the problem. But it seemed to be left for our peo¬ 
 ple and this Republic to accomplish the far-seeing 
 
338 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 purpose of Columbus, by establishing a world’s high¬ 
 way over a Continent, transforming the ship into 
 a railroad car, which day by day, and every day, 
 is launched on the plains, towards the mountains 
 westward. This steam car-ship of the desert goes 
 forth in its majesty and strength each day, freighted 
 with more valuable material, more intellect than 
 any ship that ever circumnavigated the globe. 
 
 This was not the “ baseless fabric of a vision,” with 
 the penetrating mind of Benton. He saw in his im¬ 
 agination the iron horse pulling its train of cars la¬ 
 den with the productions of the world, and in its 
 course whistle our praise and breathe in its capa¬ 
 cious lungs our enterprise over desert plains and 
 mountains vast across this great Continent. 
 
 Our recent war seems to have more fully develop¬ 
 ed the great necessity of this work, although the 
 routes had been thoroughly surveyed; yet the Gov¬ 
 ernment was not prepared to undertake the great 
 enterprise. Congress had appropriated two hun¬ 
 dred and fifty thousand dollars. In all, ten surveys 
 were made, from the far South to the extreme North, 
 and published in several large volumes, illustrated 
 by drawings. After a very careful comparison and 
 investigation of these several reports by Congress, 
 the middle route was decided upon and adopted. 
 
 The surveying party, which we will now join iD 
 
THE CONTINENTAL RAILROADS. 339 
 
 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 
 Rocky Mountains, eight thousand four hundred and 
 twenty-four feet above the ocean. This is the high¬ 
 est 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 seven thousand five hundred feet elevation. You 
 begin to understand 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 Can- 
 yonj you now enter another plateau, about five hun¬ 
 dred miles in extent, but ribbed with naked moun¬ 
 tains, 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 Lake, is seven thousand and sixty-two 
 feet above the sea. You must now descend two thou¬ 
 sand five hundred and seventeen feet in the next fif- 
 
340 
 
 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. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE UNION PACIFIC COMPANY—EARLY HISTORY—CON¬ 
 STRUCTION AND COMPLETION. 
 
 The Union Pacific Company owns from Omaha to 
 Promontory—1,085 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 contract— 
 that 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 bo placed below low 
 water-mark and the other above it, properly fastened 
 together. They are to be placed upright, all the 
 water pumped out, and then filled with solid ma¬ 
 sonry. They are eighteen in number, and are to be 
 used in constructing the great bridge over the Mis¬ 
 souri, estimated to cost two million dollars. 
 
 At first everything must be done with men 
 and teams, as no railroads are built to Omaha; even 
 
342 
 
 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 large¬ 
 ly in the enterprise during the early, uncertain years 
 of the war. He furnished from his private means 
 the larger portion of the first resources. He had 
 built western roads before, over the prairies, in ad¬ 
 vance 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 bo 
 realized. Then the few men composing the com¬ 
 pany had no more trouble to obtain all the means 
 needed to complete the work. The expenses were 
 
THE UNION PACIFIC COMPANY. 343 
 
 enormous, yet the road was very rapidly pushed 
 forward. Everything, workmen, and a wonderful 
 amount of materials, had 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 con¬ 
 taining 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 yrere 
 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 the 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 hell- 
 houses. Eighteen thousand men receiving four dol¬ 
 lars a day and board, money was abundant, and this 
 
344 
 
 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 drinking- 
 house, 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.” 
 
 Another feature, unprecedented in making rail¬ 
 roads, 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 occupants 
 would pay fifteen hundred or two thousand dollars 
 to the railroad company for ground sufficient upon 
 which to place their tent. The road was driven 
 
THE UNION PACIFIC COMPANY. 345 
 
 forward, summer and winter, with an energy unpre¬ 
 cedented; 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 !” 
 
 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 re¬ 
 fund this money as soon as they can obtain it. I 
 was informed that among over a thousand men who 
 worked on the railroad from the Mormons, there 
 
346 
 
 ff 
 
 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. 
 
J 
 
 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 difficul¬ 
 ties to be provided for, seeming almost insurmounta¬ 
 ble 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 grad¬ 
 ing; but foot-hills, larger hills, and the worst moun¬ 
 tain 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 
 
348 
 
 BEYOND THE 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 lor 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 thousand 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 profita¬ 
 ble workmen for the company. Among them all 
 there were no murders, no use for vigilance organi¬ 
 zations, no disturbances, no whisky shops, and con¬ 
 sequently no drunkenness. These heathenish chil¬ 
 dren set a good example for those building the other 
 road. The road goes slowly up the mountains. If 
 
 
 
 
 
 
THE CENTRAL PACIFIC COMPANY. 
 
 340 
 
 they meet one they can neither climb over nor go 
 through; therefore, around and up it the track 
 winds till a point is reached high enough to move 
 across on the opposite ridge of another mountain 
 over very high trestled work. In one place the 
 road goes six miles round a mountain and makes but 
 one ahead; they come to solid granite mountains 
 which must be blasted away, and the track clings to 
 their sides, or a tunnel is driven through them. 
 There are fifteen tunnels, which united would 
 amount to six thousand two hundred and sixty-two 
 feet. 
 
 Down the sides of the great mountain dashes the 
 head waters of the American River, a mere brook¬ 
 let, while the surrounding mountains rise till their 
 tops are covered with perpetual snows. Nearly 
 hid under the eternal snows is the little “ Summit 
 Valley,’’ about a mile in length by half the distance 
 across, and looks as if it had moved away from a 
 more congenial sunshine to spend a summer amid 
 broken, desolate rocks, volcanic mountains and 
 eternal snows. Then comes the long tunnel through 
 the summit range, through rock as hard as porphyry, 
 and could bo blasted only by glycerine, seven thou¬ 
 sand feet above sea level. The track now climbs 
 along the mountain side; where the rock is the very 
 hardest kind of granite the excavations were made 
 
350 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 with great difficulty. The fifteen tunnels are the 
 best evidence of the rocks. The mountains climbed 
 to the homo 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 tho 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 Neva¬ 
 da's everlasting white alkali deserts, forty miles 
 wide, when the road reaches tho Humboldt flats, 
 where the grade is not difficult to build the road 
 tho balance of tho way. 
 
 The Pacific is the best built road. Tho Union is 
 tho longest and began later. When wo consider the 
 unparalleled shortness of time in which tho work was 
 done, they are monuments 'of remarkable achieve¬ 
 ment in this nineteenth century. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 CONNECTING THE ROADS. 
 
 We are now on a high plateau, surrounded by for¬ 
 bidding 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 
 Chinamen 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 Tele¬ 
 graph offices in the country, so as to have them con¬ 
 nected. 
 
 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 V Back comes 
 
352 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST, 
 
 the reply, “All ready.” The telegraph then says, 
 “ At the third tap, it will be finished.” “ We under¬ 
 stand,” say the officers. Prayer is made to conse¬ 
 crate the groat work, thanking God for having lift¬ 
 ed 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 re¬ 
 joicing.” 
 
 This mountain wedding occurred May 10th, 18C9. 
 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 tho East and West are one. 
 
 Stale linked with State, with iron bands 
 Our Union shall he one forever.” 
 
DISTANCES 
 
 353 
 
 New York to Omaha..1,479 miles. 
 
 UNION PACIFIC LINE. 
 
 Miles; Miles. 
 
 Omaha to Summit Sidney, iOmaha to Hazard. 522 
 
 Nebraska. 4|Omaka to Ottoe. 528 
 
 Omaha to Papillion.... 12;Qmaha to Granite Canyon. 536 
 
 Omaha to Elkhorn. 28;Omaha to Buford. 542 
 
 Omaha to Valley. SojOmaha to Sherman. 549 
 
 Omaha to Fremont. 46!Omaha to Red Butte. 564 
 
 Omaha to North Bend. GliOmaha to Fort Sanders... 571 
 
 Omaha to Shell Creek. ... 75|Omaha to Laramie. 572 
 
 Omaha to Columbus. 91:Omaha td Wyoming. 586 
 
 Omaha to Jackson. 99;Omaha to Cooper’s Lake. 
 
 598 
 
 Omaha to Silver Creek. 
 
 109;Omalia to Lookout. 604 
 
 Omaha to Clark. 120:Omaka to Miser.615 
 
 Omaha to Lone Tree. lSljOmaha to Rock Creek. 622 
 
 Omaha to Chapman. 142: Omaha to Como. 637 
 
 153!Omaha to Medicine Bow. 
 
 Omaha to Grand Island. 
 
 Omaha to Pawnee. 161|Omaha to Carbon. 
 
 644 
 653 
 
 Omaha to Wood River— 172'Omaka to St. Mary’s. 657 
 
 Omaha to Gibbon. 182!Omaha to Simpson. 658 
 
 Omaha to Kearney. 191jOmaha to Percy. 665 
 
 Omaha to Stevenson. 201jOmaha to Dana. 672 
 
 Omaha to Elm Creek_... 211iOmaha to Benton. 694 
 
 Omaha to Overton. 220jOmaha to Rawlins. 709 
 
 Omaha to Plum Creek_ 230!Omaha to Separation. 721 
 
 Omaha to Coyote. 240;Omaha to Creston. 738 
 
 Omaha to Willow Island.. 250:Omaha to Wash-a-kie. 750 
 
 Omaha to Warren. 260iOmaha to Red Desert. 759 
 
 Omaha to Brady Island... 268!Omaha to Table Rock. 770 
 
 Omaha to McPherson. 277|Omaha to Bitter Creek... 783 
 
 Omaha to North Platte.. . 291IOmaha to Black Buttes... 792 
 
 Omaha to O’Fallons. 307|Omaha to Point ot Rocks.. 803 
 
 Omaha to Alkali. 322:Omaha to Salt Wells. 818 
 
 829 
 
 Omaha to Roscoe. 332IOmaha to Rock Springs, 
 
 Omaha to Ogallala. 341|Omaha to Green River. 
 
 844 
 
 Omaha to Big Spring. 360!Omaha to Bryan. 858 
 
 Omaha to Julesburg. 377|Omaha to Granger, Utah.. 874 
 
 Omaha to Lodge Pole. 396:Omaha to Church Buttes.. 885 
 
 Omaha to Sidney. 414:Omaha to Carter. 901 
 
 Omaha to Potter. 433jOmaha to Bridger. 912 
 
 Omaha to Antelope. 451jOmaha to Piedmont. 925 
 
 Omaha to Bushnell. 463;Omaha to Aspen. 937 
 
 Omaha to Pine Pluff. 473!Omaha to Evanston. 952 
 
 Omaha to Egbert. 484;Omaha to Wasatch.. 963 
 
 Omaha to Hillside. 496!Omaha to Echo City. 986 
 
 Omaha to Archer. 508 Omaha to Ogden.1030 
 
 Omaha to Cheyenne, Wg.. 516! (Branch to Salt Lake City, 40 
 (Branch to Denver, 110 miles.);miles.) 
 
 T 
 
354 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST, 
 
 Ogden to Monument Point. 
 Ogden to Red Dome Paes. 
 Ogden to Terrace Point... 
 Ogden to North. Point of 
 
 CENTRAL PACIFIC LINE. 
 
 Miles.! Miles. 
 
 Ogden to Brigham City, jOgden to Humboldt. 491 
 
 Utah. 21 jOgden to Humboldt Bridge 491 
 
 Ogden to Corinne, (Bear jOgden to Browns. 513 
 
 City). 24:Ogden to Humboldt Lake. 516 
 
 Ogden to Promontory City. 53jOgden to White Plains... 525 
 
 SOjOgden to Mirage. 532 
 
 lOljOgden to Hot Springe. 540 
 
 124;Ogden to Desert. 550 
 
 jOgden to Two-Mile Station 557 
 
 Desert. 136:0gden to Wadsworth. 559 
 
 Ogden to Passade Creek . 15S:Ogden to Clarks. 574 
 
 Ogden to North Pass, Ne- jOgden to Camp No. 37- 586 
 
 vada. 184jOgden to Reno. 593 
 
 Ogden to Pequop Pass_ 202j(Branch to Virginia City, 17 m.) 
 
 Ogden to Independence jOgden to Verdi. 603 
 
 "Springs. 207jOgden to Camp No. 24_ 619 
 
 Ogden to Humboldt Wells 222jOgden to Boca, California. 620 
 
 Ogden to Denver. 242jOgden to Trukee. 628 
 
 Ogden to Peko. 258jOgdcn to Summit. 642 
 
 Ogden to Osino. 2G8jOgden to Cisco. 656 
 
 Ogden to Elko. 278jOgden to Emigrant Gap... 664 
 
 Ogden to Moleen. 290jOgden to Blue Canyon... 670 
 
 Ogden to Carlin. 301jOgden to China Ranch.... 672 
 
 Ogden to Palisade. 310jOgden to Shady Run. 674 
 
 Ogden to Cluro. 321jOgden to Alta. 679 
 
 Ogden to Be-o-wa-we. 329jOgden to Dutch Flat 
 
 Ogden to Shoshone. 339jOgden to Gold Run.. 
 
 Ogden to Argenta. 3oOjOgden to C. H. Mills 
 
 Ogden to Nebur. 358;Ogden to Colfax. 
 
 Ogden to Battle Mountain 
 
 681 
 
 683 
 
 689 
 
 693 
 
 699 
 
 705 
 
 367jOgden to N. E. Mills... 
 
 Ogden to Stonehouse. 381jOgden to Clipper Gag. 
 
 Ogden to Iron Point. 394jOgden to Auburn. 711 
 
 Ogden to Golconda. 405|Ogden to Newcastle,. 716 
 
 Ogden to Tule. 41fijOgden to Reno. 723 
 
 Ogden to Winnetnucca_ 422jOgden to Rocklin. 726 
 
 Ogden to Rose Creek. 432jOgden to Junction. 730 
 
 Ogden to Raspberry Creek 443jOgden to Antelope. 733 
 
 Ogden to Mill City. 450jOgden to Arcade. 740 
 
 Ogden to Rye Patch. 474] Ogden to Sacramento. 748 
 
 Ogden to Sacramento. 748 miles. 
 
 Sacramento to San Francisco. 120 miles. 
 
 New York to San Francisco . 3,377 miles. 
 
-:- 1 
 
 CONNECTING THE ROADS. 355 
 
 Now the National Mountain Wedding over, tbe 
 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 can 
 be made in three months, bringing the Nations of 
 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 Franco on the water to Alexandria; from Alex¬ 
 andria, 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 untiring industry—aggressive, 
 massive, a true representative of the old Roman civ¬ 
 ilization. France, the umpire of taste, the creator 
 of fashion, a workshop of tho beautiful. Egypt, a 
 land that ever has been an unsolved problem. Chi¬ 
 na, 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—free¬ 
 dom for all, individual responsibilities, aspirations 
 and achievements. 
 
356 BEYOND THE WEST, 
 
 Wherever these lines of rapid communication trav¬ 
 erse a country, God establishes a superior civiliza¬ 
 tion, and the shuttles seem to start anew, to weave 
 the habiliments 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 con¬ 
 tact with that which is more vigorous and healthful. 
 William H. 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 how the Continental 
 Railroad is built, befitting or betraying the remark¬ 
 able endowments of Congress. 
 
 Well, with a qualification, as well as new roads 
 
 
I 
 
 ! 
 
 CONNECTING THE ROADS. 357 
 
 are generally built in this country; as good as was 
 consistent with such haste; the ties are larger, and 
 put closer than the eastern roads; the rails are Penn¬ 
 sylvania iron, and as good as the iron consciences of 
 those men permitted. 
 
 In portions of the road, reconstructions are neces- 
 
 • 
 
 sary, and should be made; not properly ballasted; 
 Avooden bridges and culverts should be rebuilt with 
 stone; embankments. need widening; many short 
 curves should be straightened, and grades evened up. 
 But these reconstructions and improvements no doubt 
 will be made. The road has been completed, and 
 Avill prove such a mine of Avealth to its owners, that 
 they should be held by the public and the govern¬ 
 ment to a strict performance of all their obligations. 
 No national improvement was ever so liberally en¬ 
 dowed; none was ever so rapidly built. The gov¬ 
 ernment aid Avas given, in ignorance of the real cost 
 of th'e work. The cost Avas much less than was ex¬ 
 pected. Congress voted sixteen thousand dollars 
 per mile of plain country; thirty-two thousand dol¬ 
 lars per mile of more difficult Avork, and forty-eight 
 thousand dollars per mile of the higher and rougher 
 mountains passed over. Nearly two-thirds of the 
 entire line is through “ plain ’ 7 country; yet, from the v 
 description, only about one-third was so counted. 
 The average government grant Avas thirty thousand 
 
358 
 
 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 tor 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 construc¬ 
 tion and opening the road, of thirty-four million of 
 dollars. 
 
 But more than this: The company own the capital 
 stock of the road, and also own half the lands on ei¬ 
 ther side their tracks for a width of twenty miles. 
 
 This has been one of the most gigantic specula¬ 
 tions 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—and only by such magnifi¬ 
 cent liberality could the country have the Conti¬ 
 nental Railway so soon—a large addition to our Na¬ 
 tionality, to our Commerce, to our Wealth, that will 
 be in a few years worth the cost. 
 
 As the Pacific Railroad is now, and will bo for 
 some time to come, an interesting subject in our 
 American history, is our justification for this article 
 upon it. 
 
_ 
 
 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 bold the con¬ 
 tinent 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 
 hundreds of miles, where the distant mining camps 
 obtain supplies and trausact their principal busi¬ 
 ness. 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 
 
 
360 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 and reddish earth, show the persevering industry 
 of the miners—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 ex¬ 
 pensive, costing over two hundred thousand 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 think 
 that when they can get a mill their fortunes will be 
 made. Hero 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 devel¬ 
 oped to insure paying mill work. Mining is an un¬ 
 certain business, and those who build expensive 
 
 t 
 
 mills without first getting out paying ore enough 
 to pay for erecting a mill, are very likely to be ul¬ 
 timately disappointed, and their imaginatire fortune 
 not realized. Expensive mills can now be seen 
 
 t 
 
 about the country rotting down for want of paying 
 ore to work. Many mills have been built where the 
 prospects at the time were favorable, but after the 
 
 
NEVADA. 
 
 3G1 
 
 surface ore was worked out no more could be found, 
 and the mills remain idle, or are taken down at a 
 heavy loss and removed to some other district. 
 
 Companies often send out incompetent, inexperi¬ 
 enced agents, who spend their money, either igno¬ 
 rantly or otherwise, to little purpose, and often mis¬ 
 lead those who furnish the money, and know little or 
 nothing of the mining business. No one can be too 
 careful here at the East about making any mining 
 investment based on the representations^of other 
 interested parties. Those who do so are fortunate, 
 indeed, if they ever see their money returned with¬ 
 out interest. Quartz mills that pay usually give 
 large returns to the owners, and those are heard 
 from in the East, and are used as make-ways for the 
 many worthless ones to deceive a confiding public. 
 There is some truth in the old saying, that it takes a 
 gold mine to work a silver mine, and sometimes to 
 find one. 
 
 The Austin silver mines are narrow, but generally 
 rich. The ore is not difficult to reduce. Most of 
 the leads are so narrow that some of the wall casing 
 must be removed to get working room. A large 
 proportion of the inhabitants work under ground. 
 The town looks quite deserted during the day; but 
 at evening, the miners seem to come forth like exha» 
 lations from the earth, or like bees from a hive of a 
 
362 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 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 rapid¬ 
 ity. 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 rais¬ 
 ed to the surface, placed on its track, and run off to 
 the “dump pile.” Should some of the ore bo 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 wheel- 
 
 / 
 
 ed 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 mill, with its 
 very heavy, somewhat complicated machinery, work¬ 
 ing 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 
 

 " 
 
 
 NEVADA. 3G3 
 
 stone 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, ev¬ 
 ery echo from which says—“ bullion!” 
 
 We do not mean the hydra-headed stamps of Un¬ 
 cle 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 in¬ 
 to 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 a mass 
 of shining amalgum, which is put into a fire-retort 
 of. iron, with a pipe allowing the fumes of quicksil¬ 
 ver 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 trans¬ 
 forms it into glowing gold and shining silver. Yet, 
 this philosopher’s stone has been discovered only by 
 
 1 
 
 
 
364 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 unusual toil, great skill and almost endless experi¬ 
 menting. 
 
 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 money, is very un¬ 
 certain. A miner may have a claim to day, giving 
 promise of a fortune, and he could sell it for a hun¬ 
 dred 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 mine 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¬ 
 ing quantities. If my observation and experience 
 be correct, not one lead in a hundred contains ore in 
 quantities to even pay for working. An experienc¬ 
 ed man can take from" almost any lead a few speci¬ 
 mens which will assay rich, while it would be worth¬ 
 less for working. These are the kind of very rid 
 mines, the product of which have been so often sen* 
 
NEVADA. 365 
 
 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 
 by a pony express rider in July, 1862. The informa¬ 
 tion soon spread, excitement ran high, and the 
 usual rush of miners, speculators, traders, mechanics, 
 and all manner of gamblers followed. The town 
 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 Cali¬ 
 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 miles 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 val¬ 
 ley in Eastern Nevada; it is nearly a hundred miles 
 long by from five to ten miles wide, lying between 
 
866 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 two parallel mountain ranges running north and 
 south, and having on either side many mining dis¬ 
 tricts. 
 
 I 
 
 Reese River is something of a stream, starting 
 from the snowy ranges sixty-tive miles south of 
 
 i 
 
 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; bar¬ 
 ley 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 bo cultivated for the want 
 of sufficient water to irrigate. Here, as elsewhere 
 in this country, the amount of land cultivated de¬ 
 pends 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 
 
 
NEVADA. 
 
 367 
 
 town six thousand feet; the air is light; physical 
 exercise causes shortness of breath. Those wearing 
 artificial teeth are troubled to keep them in tho 
 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 auother part of the town. 
 All business transactions here, since the suspension 
 of specie, has been done on a gold basis; if green¬ 
 backs are used it is at coin rates. 
 
 Here we first meet Pacific Coast life and enter¬ 
 prise. A number of new kinds of people are here— 
 the Mexican, with his pack mules; the Celestials, do¬ 
 ing nearly all tho domestic labor of the town; also 
 several other nationalities, largely represented, mak¬ 
 ing the population much more mixed—some dress¬ 
 ed in their national costume. 
 
 Continuing westward by coach from Austin, we 
 cross Reese River valley, and enter upon one of Ne¬ 
 vada’s poorest ashen deserts. The disagreeableness 
 of the alkine dust, as of old, envelops horses, vehicle 
 and occupants, a distance of three hundred and twen¬ 
 ty 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 the 
 
368 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST, 
 
 only metropolis of Nevada, looks as if it Lad 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. Not a living thing 
 green on the barren desert waste, if you except a 
 few, very few stunted cedar bushes, and Horace Gree¬ 
 ley’s everlasting sage brush, interspersed by now 
 and then—say, perhaps, ten to the acre—solitary 
 blades of grass; in short, not one attractive, but ma¬ 
 ny repulsive features. Yet, on this naturally miser- 
 ble spot, whose only redeeming, yet all powerful fea¬ 
 ture 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 At¬ 
 lantic slope, of ten or even twenty years growth. 
 
 The locality is forbidding, treeless and verdure¬ 
 less; and sometimes it would seem that all the storm 
 winds of Heaven were let loose together, by the ra¬ 
 pidity with which they sweep through the city— 
 sometimes reminding those pedestrians who stand 
 on slippery places, that we are fearfully and wonder¬ 
 fully made. Two prospecters in pursuit of gold, dis¬ 
 covered here in 1859 a vein of dark-colored ore, 
 which, being assayed, proved to be silver. 
 
 An unusual rush for the somewhat remarkable re- 
 
 I 
 
NEVADA. 
 
 369 
 
 gion began; the mine being rich, a city sprung up 
 like Jonah’s gourd—not upon a hill, but on the side 
 of 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 re¬ 
 markable deposits of the kind on the Continent—un¬ 
 known any where else in the world—more a wonder¬ 
 ful blow-up or deposit, than a lead. 
 
 We go down its shafts many hundred feet; mean¬ 
 der through the many drifts on the different levels 
 of the main shaft; saw the toiling miner at work. 
 
 There are hundreds of men down here, but the 
 place is so vast you hardly see half a dozen togeth¬ 
 er. 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 day¬ 
 light and civilization. 
 
 We examined the extensive subterranean timber 
 
370 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 ing of the mine to prevent its caving, and the ma¬ 
 chinery requisite to do the immense work. It is 
 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 shaveling 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 tree from corrodiug substances, 
 such 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. The 
 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¬ 
 ing and varying richness, like other mines. 
 
 A body of ore small at the surface may, at a great¬ 
 er or less depth, expand Jto a great size—and vice 
 
NEVADA. 371 
 
 versa. The geological formation of this hill and lead 
 is as singular as its rich ore is rare. Such a forma¬ 
 tion 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 im¬ 
 possibility, and none now living will see it accom¬ 
 plished. Here began the first silver mining in the 
 United States. 
 
 This is the continental belt of 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'tho world with largo quan¬ 
 tities of silver coin and bullion. 
 
 This is but a portion of that vast region of the 
 precious metals, extending along the volcanic forma¬ 
 tion, from the Andes in South America, to, the Cas¬ 
 cade 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 enor¬ 
 mous. In the short space of ten years, she has climb- 
 
372 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 
 those 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 fos- 
 siliferous quartz rock, has to be ground and elabo¬ 
 rately 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 open¬ 
 ings 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 ere, I visited at Oreanna, on the Humboldt Flats. 
 The ore here contained such a large percentage of 
 lead, that it would form a solid mass when stamped 
 
NEVADA. 373 
 
 The smelting furnaces are built very much like those 
 used in our iron froundries. Charcoal is used for 
 fuel. After a fire is started, alternate quantities of 
 ore and coal are put into the furnace; and when 
 melted, is drawn out like molten iron—the silver 
 and lead together, which is molded somewhat like 
 pig-iron. 
 
 The only real difficulty in this kind of mining is, 
 separating the small amount of silver from such im¬ 
 mense quantities of lead, as there was only about 
 two hundred and fifty dollars in silver to the ton of 
 lead. It was not separated here, but sent at consid¬ 
 erable cost to San Francisco for separation. The 
 lead is very pure, equal to the best, as the works are 
 on the line of the railroad, affording better facilities 
 and cheaper freight. The company will, probably, 
 realize largely from the investment. This kind of 
 mining is much cheaper than crushing, and general¬ 
 ly give larger return for the money invested. 
 
 The Silver Mines of Nevada constitute the great 
 and important source of the wealth of the State. 
 
 But ten years have elapsed (scarcely a beginning in 
 this kind of mining) since the discovery of these 
 mines, and the yield is greater at this time than of 
 any other country—Mexico not excepted. 
 
 Many desire to know the method of securing a 
 mine. A person supposing he has discovered a lead, 
 
 ) 
 
374 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 sinks what is termed a prospect-hole upon it; writes 
 a notice setting forth the fact, that the individuals 
 whose names are signed to the notice, claims a cer¬ 
 tain number 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 wdiere 
 and how located. 
 
 This is the primary source of title to all mines, and 
 answers the same purpose as our deeds of real es¬ 
 tate—can be transferred only by recorded deeds, 
 properly acknowledged before a competent officer. 
 The mining laws of all districts give the locator of 
 a lead fifty feet of land on either side of his claim, for 
 the purpose of erecting machinery if he wishes, and 
 to do general work upon it. Most districts require 
 the owner of a lead to do a specified amount of labor 
 on his claim per month, or forfeit it; where others 
 can, as it is termed, “jump it.” 
 

 
 
 
 • \ 
 
 \ 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 JOURNEY TO THE HOT STRINGS. 
 
 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 ubiqui¬ 
 tous 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 water, 
 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 only;, 
 proprietors for the time. A little dry fuel was soon 
 collected, coffee boiled, bacon in the frying-pan, 
 and bread on hand. The table-cloth (a newspaper) 
 was laid for fvvo, and wo sat down upon the table 
 which nature furnished, to rather a young feast, when 
 we consider the poverty-stricken country. Some¬ 
 what rested, and our horses recruited with a few 
 
 
 
 
 
376 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 blades of alkali grass about the spring, but 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 Hot 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 por¬ 
 tions 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 wheel¬ 
 barrows, shovel it up where found the thickest and 
 the best, and wheel it out where wagons can take on 
 a load. It is putin 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 min¬ 
 ing would be a failure were it not that this indispens¬ 
 able 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 from here in 
 
JOURNEY TO THE HOT SPRINGS. 377 
 
 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 introduce 
 you to a mountain of salt about two huudred and 
 thirty miles from here, in the southern part of Ne¬ 
 vada. 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 much 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 caldrons filled with water, but not 
 
378 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 running over. In one we found water cool enough 
 to drink; another tef}id, 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 
 in a very short time. There being no son of Vul¬ 
 can 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 an¬ 
 swered us as well as a blacksmith for the journey. 
 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 
 from 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 si4pplied 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 hight as the day seemed to kindle behind the 
 eastern mountains, and as the sun ascended over 
 
- 
 
 
 
380 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 be¬ 
 ginning to be settled by an agricultural people, as 
 the lake furnishes irrigating facilities, and the coun¬ 
 try 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 Vir¬ 
 ginia, 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.. 
 
JOURNEY TO THE HOT SPRINGS. 
 
 381 
 
 Nevada is prolific in hot springs. One near Vir¬ 
 ginia, 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 wa¬ 
 ter 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.' 5 The water is 
 similar to the Sulphur Springs at Salt Lake, possesses 
 curative virtue, and is quite efficacious in rheuma¬ 
 tism. 
 
 The Indians reverence these springs. They be¬ 
 lieve that the Great Spirit troubles the waters by 
 breathing in them, and they make propitiatory of¬ 
 ferings to this supposed invisible deity. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS—LAKE TAHOE—DONNER 
 
 LAKE—SUFFERING OF EMIGRANTS—SACRAMENTO. 
 
 After having been so long on the interior desert 
 plains and forbidding mountains, from majestic for¬ 
 ests’ 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 Pa¬ 
 cific breeze through the massive trees of magnificent 
 size and beautiful form, the “ xEolean Harp" of the 
 mighty forest, came like sweet music laden with re¬ 
 collections 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 ever¬ 
 greens, 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, 
 
SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS. 
 
 383 
 
 together with an unlimited supply of delicious lake 
 trout, make the place one of pleasure and health. 
 The lake is twenty-four miles long, and is from twelve 
 to fifteen wide, and six thousand two hundred aud 
 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 seems as crystaliue 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 irregular lino 
 dividing the green of the shallow waters from the 
 blue of the depths is clearly marked. The shores 
 are mostly covered by shining black sand. 
 
 The line crosses the lake, dividing the Golden and 
 the Silver State, and is a place of unsurpassed mag¬ 
 nificence and beauty, only fifteen miles from the 
 railroad, which makes it quite accessible for those 
 wishing to visit it. No one who can will regret 
 seeing this brightest jewel in the mountain coronet. ’ 
 
 There are several small lakes in the mountains 
 about here which are not loss than seven thousand 
 feet above the ocean. Lake Como is one literally 
 amongst the tops of the mountains, fourteen miles 
 
 long and nine miles wide, and walled in by volcanic 
 
 \ 
 
 debris. 
 
384 
 
 \ 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 As the traveler now on the Sierra Nevada looks 
 from the swiftly moving, pleasure-giving cars, lie 
 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 twenty- 
 one 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 ad¬ 
 vance or retreat. As their cattle died they ate them 
 to the very last piece of their hide. Then starva¬ 
 tion 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 hus¬ 
 band. 
 
 For the benefit of the believer and the unbeliever 
 in dreams, we give the following: 
 
 During this time, as wo are told, there lived near 
 San Francisco an old hunter, lie dreamed that 
 there was such an emigrant party starving and dy- 
 
SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS. 385 
 
 i'Jg 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, ho pictured the place so plainly that the 
 hunter recognized it as being the place afterwards 
 known as Ponner’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 res¬ 
 cued, though some of them wer.e 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 bo literally 
 forced away from this kind of living, and most re¬ 
 luctantly 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 com¬ 
 mitted 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 human¬ 
 ity could suffer, and died in such a heart-sickening 
 way, we could not release ourself from the sad im- 
 
386 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 pression which this most terrible item in the history 
 of those times made upon the mind. 
 
 Crossing the summit, we were among bare, gran¬ 
 ite peaks of white, gray and brown. The majestic * 
 Sierras rear their snow-capped summits, where king 
 winter holds his eternal court. Their long sides, 
 farrowed with dark, deep canyons, through which 
 bright-glowing rivulets leap down the abrupt moun¬ 
 tain-sides, carrying to life and nature in the plain be¬ 
 low 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 up¬ 
 on 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 Pacific 
 slope, through the most magnificent forest of pine, 
 red-wood and firs in the world, we beheld fifteen hun¬ 
 dred 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- 
 
SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS. 
 
 387 
 
 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 re¬ 
 markable mountain ranges. Wo pass the vast and 
 lofty mountains; we are among the beautifully round¬ 
 ed foot-hills in the bewitching valleys that sleep be¬ 
 neath these lofty mountains, within whose dark re¬ 
 cesses is earth’s banking-house; within them are hid¬ 
 den the sleeping gold and silver, a mineral wealth 
 which no one will presume to estimate. 
 
 Already from them have been carried aw*ay mil¬ 
 lions of shining gold, which has entered all the ave¬ 
 nues 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 resour¬ 
 ces 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 ap¬ 
 plied 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, embowered with tjjees, 
 
388 BEYOND THE WEST, 
 
 festooning vines and flowers, seemed more wonder¬ 
 fully 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 com¬ 
 forts, 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 valloy, 
 presenting landscape pictures of unrivaled extent 
 and verdure. 
 
 A few hours’ ride on the iron-horse took us to Sac- 
 ramenfb, the head of tide water, on the river of the 
 same name, one hundred and twenty miles above its 
 mouth. Tho summit 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 tw'o 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 tho plains be¬ 
 fore reaching Denver. 
 
 Sacramento is tho Capital of the State, and the 
 now 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 and 
 submerged by freshets—which hindered to some ex- 
 
SACRAMENTO. 
 
SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS. 
 
 389 
 
 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 af¬ 
 ford sure and permanent protection. 
 
 The city is beautifully shaded, though quite warm 
 in summer; is agreeable, and contains much to ad¬ 
 mire 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. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 FLOWERS. 
 
 We found no place West of the Missouri Riv<er, 
 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 t 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 gar¬ 
 dens quite beautiful may be seen in their isolation 
 and simplicity, scattered among them in different sta¬ 
 ges 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 
 buttercups, dandelions, larkspurs, liairbells, painter’s 
 
FLOWERS. 
 
 391 
 
 brush and blue gentian, with their various compan¬ 
 ions of spring, summer and fall, improving every hour 
 
 * 
 
 of sunshine in their brief lives. They looked as hap¬ 
 py and emitted their little fragrance as freely, as 
 though they were in the midst of civilization. Bine 
 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 grtmd-babies of the sun-flower family in 
 
 every shade. Some of these are about the sizo of a 
 
 , ■» 
 
 tea-saucer, with a centre stem of richest red, with 
 deep yellow leaves hanging away from it—each col¬ 
 or the very concentration of itself, as if dyed at the 
 original fountain head. 
 
 We found the hair-bell at home everywhere, stand¬ 
 ing 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 partic¬ 
 ular—grows only in low, rich ground. 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 
 
392 
 
 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, lor 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 vari¬ 
 ety 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¬ 
 ness. The colors are more deep and delicate than 
 those in our flower gardens; and, although frosts 
 may freeze them every night on the mountains, yet 
 
FLOWERS. 
 
 393 
 
 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. In the two latter places they grov very 
 large, and horses sometimes get the sharp thorns in 
 their ankles, and are ruined in consequence. But ir. 
 California, they grow eight and ten feet high—a 
 wonderful size for the kind. 
 
 There is also another plant found extensively 
 through these same countries, known as the soap- 
 plant, grows very stout, and has a long tap-root, en¬ 
 abling 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 fra¬ 
 grance 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 
 
394 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 floral 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 else¬ 
 where 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 ior 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, 
 
 For luxury, medicine, and toil 
 And yet have had no flowers. 
 
 The ore within the mountain mine 
 Requireth nope 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, 
 
 UpspringiDg day and night: 
 
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 1” 
 
 / 
 
CHAPTER 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 which 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 be¬ 
 side the road. The first and largest one we had 
 seen measured eighteen feet in circumference, but 
 as we passed on a lew miles we came to one which 
 measured twenty-two feet 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 ol the re¬ 
 gion, which became very celebrated on account of 
 their remarkable growth, before the discovery of 
 the “Big Trees” of California in 1852; a hunter hav¬ 
 ing wounded a bear, which he followed to these most 
 
f 
 
 MAMMOTH TREE GROVE. 307 
 
 wonderful trees, then made it known. While he 
 gazed in astonishment his wounded bear escaped, 
 and ho 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 cf 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 
 
BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 398 
 
 saw the humble carpenter of Juclea, a man of sor- 
 rows and acquainted with grief, despised and re¬ 
 jected of men. 
 
 On arriving at the trees you find a beautiful piece 
 of moist, rich table-land four thousand five hundred 
 
 t 
 
 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 beauti¬ 
 ful of any of the big tree groves in California. 
 
 From Stockton, at the head of steamboat naviga¬ 
 tion, 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 Hotel, will 
 find himself surrounded with the comforts of a good 
 traveler’s home, which invites him to stop his wan¬ 
 derings 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 diameter— 
 very many that are thirty feet, and I measured sev¬ 
 eral that were thirty-three feet in diameter. Nearly 
 in front of the hotel one of the largest trees was 
 
MAMMOTH TREE GROVE. 399 
 
 *: i 
 
 felled in 1854, which was perfectly sound the whole 
 
 < * 
 
 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 
 x ground, has a house built over it, and easily accom¬ 
 modates four quadrille sets of dancers, musicians, 
 and a few spectators at a time. Theatrical perform¬ 
 ances have been held upon it, and a few years ago 
 a newspaper, The Big Tree Bulletin , was printed 
 there.* 
 
 Near the stump lies a section of the trunk twenty- 
 five 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 from this stump stands the “Two 
 Sentinels,” each over 300 feet high, and the larger 
 
I 
 
 400 
 
 BEYOND THE 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 the 
 sequoias, and were named respectively in 1865, 
 U. S. Grant, W. T. Sherman and J. B. McPherson 
 —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 no¬ 
 blest 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 beautiful cluster in the grove. 
 
 A little distance from these stands “Andrew John¬ 
 son,” so named in the summer of 1865. Making 
 this tree a central point of observation, we have 
 several magnificent trees within a short distance; 
 one bearing the name of that Philanthropic English 
 lady, Florence “ Nightingale another named “ Bay 
 
MAMMOTH Tit EE GROVE. 
 
 401 
 
 State;’ 7 another named “ W. H. Seward;” and also 
 one named “W. C. Bryant,” so named by a lady ad¬ 
 mirer of that distinguished poet. 
 
 In the center of the grove is a treo 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 nds 
 from the ground ninety feet upwards. 
 
 Near this tree is tho “ 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 ap¬ 
 pears vigorous and healthy. It has been well named. 
 
 Two large trees, one on tlio right, the other on 
 the left o| tho 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 tho “ Fallen 
 Monarch,” 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 tho upper half 
 or two-thirds, which struck the earth with great 
 force in its fall, has all disappeared, and trees a 
 century old are growing where it struck. This tree 
 
402 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 must have been over three hundred feet high and 
 twenty-five feet in diameter. 
 
 Fifty paces from this is a cluster of twelve trees, 
 in size of the second class, averaging fifteen feet in 
 diameter and two hundred and eighty feet in hight. 
 One eighteen feet in diameter and three hundred 
 and twenty feet high, named “Abraham Lincoln;’’ 
 and others named “ Gen. Wadsworth,” “ Uncle Sam,” 
 “ Union,” &c. 
 
 The “ Mother of the Forest,” has been stripped of 
 her bark for upwards of one hundred and sixteen 
 feet from the ground, which was sent to England. 
 It is of course dead, and the top limbs are beginning 
 to fall. Near the top a small tree has taken root in 
 the body of the “ Mother,” and is apparently intent 
 on coming to something. 
 
 This tree is three hundred and twenty-seven feet 
 high; and without the bark seventy-eight feet in 
 circumference. 
 
 A few rods from this is “ Gen. Sutter,” which, di¬ 
 viding thirty feet from the ground, forms two dis¬ 
 tinct trees', each two hundred and eighty feet high. 
 
 Also, near this is the “ Trinity”—three trees grow¬ 
 ing from one trunk. The circumference below the 
 divergence is sixty feet. 
 
 One hundred feet from “ Longfellow,” brings us 
 amidst the family group. Standing near the uproot- 
 
MAMMOTH TREE GROVE. 
 
 408 
 
 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 circum¬ 
 ference 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 diam¬ 
 eter, 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 up¬ 
 rooted base, the mind can hardly conceive its dimen¬ 
 sions; 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’Con¬ 
 nell” 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 
 
 / 
 
404 
 
 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 i f; three hundred and twenty-five feet long and 
 nmety-nLie feet in circumference. When standing, 
 this tieo leaned about sixty feet from perpendicular. 
 Most (li 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, bad¬ 
 ly broken to pieces, while he looks as healthy and 
 unconcerned as though no misfortune had befallen 
 his friend. The “Siamese Twins,” “Daniel Web¬ 
 ster,” “Granite State,” “ Old Republican,” £ ‘Henry 
 Clay,” “Andrew Johnson,” “Vermont,” ££ Empire 
 State,” “Old Dominion,” “George Washington.”and 
 “Upcle Tom’s Cabin,” are all first-class trees, from 
 twenty to thirty feet in diameter, and from two hun¬ 
 dred and fifty to three hundred and twenty-five feet 
 in hight. All the trees named have a small slab of 
 white marble, with the name engraven thereon, fast¬ 
 ened to the trunk about twenty feet from the ground. 
 
MAMMOTH TREE GROVE. 
 
 405 
 
 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 hun¬ 
 dred 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 stu¬ 
 pidity which could see nothing in those trees but a 
 big back-log for their fires. 
 
 These trees are the only living monuments that 
 
 connect us with olden time. Perhaps before Old 
 
 Rome was planted on the hills, certainly long before 
 
 any man imagined this Continent, these youthful 
 
 trees were lifting their noble forms in these far-away 
 
 mountain solitudes, to be ready for eyes that would 
 
 appreciate them in the Nineteenth Century. 
 
 “■These giant trees, in silent majesty, 
 
 Like pillars stand ’neath heaven’s mighty dome; 
 
 ’Twould seem that, perched upon their topmost branch, 
 With outstretched finger, man might touch the stars. 
 
 Yet, could he gain that hight, the boundless sky 
 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. 
 
406 
 
 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 
 Hose 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 bad we seen long centuries of tim€ 
 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 Fran¬ 
 cisco, or have an opportunity to send for them, to 
 procure some photographs of the Big Trees. They 
 will, on your possessing them, become a source of 
 much enjoyment. 
 
CHAPTER XL. 
 
 YOSEMITE VALLEY. 
 
 Leave the city of San Francisco in the evening 
 boat for Stockton, a beautiful sail while it is day 
 and you are on deck, and arrive at Stockton at six 
 o’clock next morning. From here there are two 
 routes to the valley by stage—one to the north to 
 the Caleveras big tree grove, and the other more to 
 the south; But I am at Mr. Perry’s comfortable 
 hotel, among the giant trees, and leave in the morn¬ 
 ing and go to “ Murphy’s Camp;” dine and press on, 
 crossing 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 musttako 
 the saddle. 
 
 Now get the best horse you can, and with a guide 
 start off, with good courage, for an unusual hard 
 day’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, 
 ascend vast mountains, go through gorges and down 
 
408 
 
 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 snow¬ 
 capped Nevada Mountains, are some of the most re¬ 
 markable 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 match¬ 
 less grandeur, that we feel the pulse-beatings of Om¬ 
 nipotent power. We are looking east, and at our 
 right hand is an opening through immense perpen¬ 
 dicular 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 possi¬ 
 ble veil of mist caused by the falling waters. This 
 is “ Yosemite Valley.” 
 
YOSEMITE VALLEY. 
 
 409 
 
 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, furi¬ 
 ously 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 pre¬ 
 cipitous side, one would fall, 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 the 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 cor¬ 
 rect 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 
 
 ,$■ * j 
 
 wide, and you have a basin a mile deep, while the 
 
YOSEMITE VALLEY. 
 
 411 
 
 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 go¬ 
 ing east, the waters of the river meeting us.. We 
 find, as we move up the 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 in that little stream. 
 
 As we go on up the valley we behold a mighty 
 pyramid rising up on our left—the “ Great Chief 
 of the Valley”—three thousand three hundred feet 
 high, top-flat and naked. Wo stand at its base and 
 gaze upon it, perpendicular for two thousand feet, 
 feeling that the great mass is ready to fall upon us; 
 
412 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 but it is so solid and hard that you soon feel, how¬ 
 ever, 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 foamiDg, throwing out showers of snowy rock¬ 
 ets as it falls into its great rocky caldron; properly 
 called the “ Bridal Vail,” from its flowing, feathery- 
 gauze-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 rain¬ 
 bows. 
 
 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 
 vSpires,” 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 wo come to the “ Three Brothers,” 
 three mountain summits, very remarkable, which are 
 not easily described, but when seen will never be 
 
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i 
 
 * 
 
 L 
 
 \. «• 
 
 T 
 
 
 K 
 
 vK.' 
 
 • , • • , :t 
 
 > 
 
 k 
 
 k 
 
 s 
 
TO-SEMITE FALLS. 
 
YOSEMITE VALLEY. 
 
 413 
 
 forgotten. On the opposite side of the valley are 
 the “ Three Sisters/’ most graceful in beauty, as if 
 . chiseled by human hands. 
 
 We are now in the centre of the valley going east. 
 On our left are Yosemite Falls, divided into three 
 falls—the first, sixteen hundred and fifty feet per¬ 
 pendicular; the second four hundred and fifty, and 
 the third six hundred and forty feet. Yo-Sem-i-te is 
 the Indian name now given to the valley, and means 
 Grizzly Bear. 
 
 Opposite these falls is “ Sentinel Rock,” three thou¬ 
 sand two hundred and seventy-five feet high. At 
 the base of this wonderful rock, is “ Heeching’s Ho¬ 
 tel,” whero all who visit here must stay, at)d 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 ad¬ 
 mire and never get weary contemplating its magnifi¬ 
 cence. I was told that in winter the spray freezes 
 and piles up till there is a hollow pillar hundreds 
 Pf feet high, which, when the spring floods come, 
 struggles with giant power for 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 dow-n the first falls nine times higher 
 
414 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 than Niagara, seems to the eye from the bottom of 
 the valley to be not more than two feet wide at the 
 top, but is said to be over forty feot. The river 
 made by it at the bridge is forty feet wide and over 
 seven deep. As we go up towards tho head, the 
 valley divides into two canyons, through which the 
 two branches of the Merced run, uniting at the foot 
 of the great bluff, which has the appearance of push¬ 
 ing down the valley between them. 
 
 We ascend the right hand canyon, following up 
 the river on foot along its boiling, leaping water, till 
 we come to “ Vernal Falls,” where the spray soon 
 drenches us to the skin, while the most beautiful lit¬ 
 tle rainbows are hovering and playing around us. 
 We are at the foot of the falls, two thousand feet 
 higher than where we entered the valley. These 
 magnificent falls, the largest of all as to quantity of 
 water, are something over three hundred and fifty 
 feet high, which are ascended by a mysterious look¬ 
 ing ladder, fastened to the perpendicular side of tho 
 rock, which has the appearance of hanging in the air. 
 If you have nerves of steel, you may go up safely 
 and congratulate yourself on courage, otherwise you 
 had better not undertake it. 
 
 We now go up the river half a mile to “Nevada 
 Falls/’ seven hundred feet high, the most beautiful 
 waterfall I ever beheld. It unites the power and 
 
YOSEMITE VALLEY. 
 
 415 
 
 majesty of Niagara with much more outline of beau¬ 
 ty. I am quite sure that it cannot he 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 ’ 7 not mentioned, such as “ Cap of Lib¬ 
 erty,” “Mount Starr King,” and “North and South 
 Domes.” 
 
 The "North Dome” is three thousand seven hun¬ 
 dred feet high. Near it stands Washington’s Col¬ 
 umn, 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 Na¬ 
 ture, 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 Na¬ 
 ture’s mirror, reflecting with an accuracy and beau¬ 
 ty 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 val- 
 ley, and slowly moves up the mountain sides, as the 
 
416 
 
 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 haze— 
 much like our Indian Summor 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 picturesque- 
 ness, 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, wo can’t but feel and realize 
 that wo 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 ma¬ 
 sonry 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- 
 
YOSEMITE VALLEY. 
 
 417 
 
 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 old, with their bows, and ar¬ 
 rows with flint heads; their food mostly acorns pound¬ 
 ed in a rock hollowed out perhaps centuries 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 paint¬ 
 ed, 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 possi¬ 
 bly can to admire its surrounding cascades and moun¬ 
 tain peaks; its beautiful sheets of water, falling thou¬ 
 sands of feet unbroken; its projecting rocks, columns 
 of yellow granite into the valley rising perpendicu¬ 
 larly 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 inspira¬ 
 tion of early time in the refreshing shades of thy ro¬ 
 mantic groves amid the wonderful Nature. 
 
 Every one while visiting California, who possibly 
 can, should see this place. No one will regret the 
 expense and fatigue in order to do it. Having once 
 
418 
 
 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 inter¬ 
 est increases with each successive contemplation, 
 and you will most certainly desire to go again. 
 
CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 A VISIT TO THE GEYSERS. 
 
 Tho 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 him- 
 nelf. He is an uneducated New Englander, en¬ 
 dowed with qualities which makes him a marked 
 man. But ho harnesses his six-horse team to an 
 open wagon, and we are off, winding our way up tho 
 mountain five thousand feet high, till we come to 
 a ridge nearly two miles long and perfectly straight, 
 just possibly wide enough to let the wagon run on 
 
420 
 
 BEYOND THE WESTc 
 
 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 hun¬ 
 dred 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 can¬ 
 yon below. The horses dash down upon the quick¬ 
 est gait, and after making thirty-five short turns, a 
 
 •r 
 
 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 here¬ 
 after must bo a fool or crazy. m 
 
 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 sym¬ 
 metrical 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- 
 
/ 
 
A VISIT TO THE GEYSEKS. 
 
 421 
 
 ter. We at once realize that we are in a strange 
 region; the earth burns our feet, and the air nearly 
 suffocates us. The surrounding atmosphere is filled 
 with the fumes of sulphur, nitric acid, and all other 
 unpleasant smells you can imagine. At our very 
 feet a stream of alum boils out, but a few feet from 
 that perhaps is another of nitric acid, or some kind 
 of salts, or soda, or pure sulphur, or sulphuric acid 
 or ammonia. 
 
 A little distance off is a deep caldron, up which is 
 boiling a fluid dark as ink. It is appropriately 
 called the “ Devil’s Inkstand.” I made my notes at 
 the time with that ink, and have used it since, just 
 as it was taken from the manufactory. It is good 
 enough to be patented, as compared with many 
 other kinds. Near this is the “ Witches’ Caldron,” 
 quite large, demon-like, black, boiling, raging and 
 spouting. It is said to be fathomless. 
 
 Next we come to the “ Steamboat,” where steam 
 spouts and roars high in the air, like letting off the 
 steam when a large steamboat stops. A little dis¬ 
 tance from this is the “ Devil’s Tea-kettle,” where 
 the steam intervals, and where, as if groaning in 
 confinement, you almost expect to see the demoniac 
 spirits of the Evil One come forth next. One seems 
 to be stauding on the threshold of the infernal re¬ 
 gions. Thrust a stick in the ground anywhere and 
 steam will rush out. 
 
422 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 We can compare the place to nothing more ap¬ 
 propriate 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 grow dizzy, 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 ori¬ 
 gin, 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, 1 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 chem¬ 
 ical laboratory. »•. 
 
 We found here quantities of iron, causing the 
 inky water, alum, ammonia, nitric acid, sulphuric acid, 
 sulphur, •epsom salts, and acid water of various kinds-. 
 One, when sweetened, makes good lemonade. An¬ 
 other spring is said to be remarkable in its good 
 effects as an eye water. 
 
 Some of these springs have an unusual degree of 
 heat—from a hundred and fifty to two hundred de¬ 
 grees by the thermometer. Fill these vast mountain 
 depths with these several chemicals, and let down 
 the water upon them, and the phenomena which is 
 found here will be produced. 
 
WITCH’S CALDRON—GEYSERS. 
 

CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 THE QUICKSILVER MINE—THE LARGEST IN THE WORnD. 
 
 Presuming, kind reader, that you are yet a stran¬ 
 ger to many of the various interesting places and 
 scenes in wonderful and beautiful California—conse¬ 
 quently, if you will bear me company, we will go to 
 the source of theAlmaden mines, and be fellow-trav- 
 ers, at least in imagination, and desire to enjoy our¬ 
 selves—let us say “ good-bye ” to our many cares, as 
 we did to our friends, and leave them behind us with 
 the city. 
 
 It is one of California’s most beautiful Summer 
 days, when we take the stage on the Plaza, San 
 Francisco, go rattling over pavements and rumbling 
 over wood planking of the streets southward toward 
 the beautiful and very productive Santa Clara Val¬ 
 ley. On wo go, beyond the limits of the city, roll¬ 
 ing ovor hills, and then we are traveling in the val¬ 
 ley amid nature’s prodigality—passing farms and 
 way-side houses, where we use our best endeavors to 
 bribe the coachman to wait still longer for us to buy, 
 bog or steal those cherry-cheeked and luscious-look¬ 
 ing and tasting pears, which grow amid the shadows 
 of the old Mission Church. But the superlative com- 
 
THE QUICKSILVER MINE. 425 
 
 maud 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 Clara 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 
 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 spring* 
 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. 
 
42G 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 tbe 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. The mines are 
 on a cross range of the coast range of mountains. 
 
 The Indians had dug over sixty feet into the moun¬ 
 tain, when white man first saw it, with their wood¬ 
 en sticks, probably the work of centuries. Quite a 
 number of skeletons were found in a passage whore 
 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 quick¬ 
 silver ore. 
 
 Upon this discovery, a large English and Mexican 
 
 A 
 
I 
 
 THE QUICKSILVER MINE. 
 
 427 
 
 company was organized to work the mine. They 
 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 
 
 I 
 
 be a successful treatment of the ore—when the com¬ 
 pany'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 in 
 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 room, thence through a pipe 
 
428 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 into a trough that extends the whole length of the 
 building, where it empties into a large circular cal¬ 
 dron. 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 
 for market, and is sent all over the world; some goes 
 to China, and comes back in vermilion paint. 
 
 This greatest of 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 w r ide, 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 un¬ 
 der a burning sun, to travel it on foot, one would be 
 willing to make an affidavit that it was nearer three. 
 Having arrived at the mine, we pause to look around 
 us. For a very long sweep of distance, nothing is 
 
THE QUICKSILVER MINE. 
 
 429 
 
 % 
 
 seen but 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 settlement hard by composed of the families 
 and lodging cabins of the miners. 
 
 The process of working the mine has been truth¬ 
 fully described by another, L. A. Downer, that wo 
 introduce to the reader. In 1850 a tunnel was com¬ 
 menced 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 
 th'e 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 sud¬ 
 denly bereft of warmth and sunshine. This sensa¬ 
 tion does not continue as we descend into the sub¬ 
 terranean cavern below. And now comes the won¬ 
 ders, as well as the dangers, of the undertaking. By 
 
430 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 the light of a torch, wo 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 protec¬ 
 tress of the mine, (Nuceta Senora de Guadalupe ,) be¬ 
 fore which lighted candles are kept constantly burn¬ 
 ing, and before entering upon the labor^ of the day 
 or night, each /man visits this 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 fright¬ 
 ful 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 formed 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 col¬ 
 umn of earh; now steppiug this way, then that, 
 twisting and turning, all tending down, down to 
 where, through the darkness of midnight, one can 
 discern the faint glimmer which shines like Shake¬ 
 speare’s good deeds in a naughty world, and which it 
 seems impossible one can ever reach. 
 
 We were shown a map giving the subterranean 
 topography of this mine; and truly, the crossings 
 
THE QUICKSILVER MINE. 431 
 
 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 af¬ 
 ter 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 commenced 
 on different animals—one of which is not inaptly 
 called El Elefante. Some idea of the extent and 
 number of these passages may be formed when wo 
 state, that sixty pounds of candles are used by the 
 workmen in twenty-four hours. Another turn brings 
 us upon some men at work; one stands upon a single 
 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 Iiq can maintain his equi¬ 
 librium is a mystery to us; yet no accident of con¬ 
 sequence has as yet happened in the mine. 
 
 These men work in companies—one set by night, 
 another by day, alternating week about. These un¬ 
 derground 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. 
 
432 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 There they come up and up from almost intermin- 
 able depths; each one as he passes, panting and 
 puffing 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. These are the tenateras , carrying the ore from the 
 mine to deposit it in the cars. The ore is placed in 
 b flat leather bag, with a band two inches wide that 
 passes around the forehead, the weight resting along 
 the shoulders and spine. Two hundred pounds of 
 rough ore are thus borne up flight after flight of per¬ 
 pendicular steps—now winding through deep cav¬ 
 erns, or threading the most tortuous passages; again 
 ascending passages that have a poor apology for 
 steps, where one unwary step would pluDge him be¬ 
 yond a possibility of human life. Not always, how¬ 
 ever, do they ascend; they sometimes come from 
 above, yet we should judge the danger and toil to be 
 nearly as great in one case as in the other. Thirty 
 trips will these men make in one day from the low¬ 
 est depths. 
 
 Wo will now follow these hardy Mexicans, as they 
 load the car with the contents of their sacks, and run 
 after it with shouts of laughter, as the change from 
 the mine to the warm sunshine is most inspiriting; 
 and when they have reached the end of the track 
 they handle the great lumps of ore scarcely without 
 
THE QUICKSILVER MINE. 
 
 433 
 
 an effort. The ore deposited, another set of labor¬ 
 ers engage in separating the large lumps, and in re¬ 
 ducing them to a small size for the furnace. 
 
 These men receive wages that seem to bo just and 
 liberal, yet such is their improvidence, that no mat- 
 ter how much they earn, they are no better off at 
 the end of the month than they were at the begin¬ 
 ning. The Mexicans are the most impracticable peo¬ 
 ple in the world—going on as their ancestors did be¬ 
 fore them—firmly believing in the axiom that “suf¬ 
 ficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” What the 
 production of this mine will be is impossible to fore¬ 
 see; but if quicksilver maintains its present high 
 price, this company no doubt will have a fortune. 
 
 “The interesting dedicatory ceremonial of‘Bless¬ 
 ing the Mine/ is a custom of long standing in min¬ 
 ing Catholic countries, especially among those peo¬ 
 ple who speak the Spanish language. Without it, 
 workmen would feel a religious dread, and conse¬ 
 quently a timid reluctance to enter upon their daily 
 labors, lest some accidental mishap should befall 
 them from such an omission. After this has been 
 duly performed, great care is taken to erect a shrine, 
 be it ever so rude, at some convenient point within 
 the mine, to some favorite tutelary saint or prptec- 
 tress, whose benediction they evoke. Before this 
 phrine each workman devoutly kneels, crosses him- 
 
434 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 self, and repeats bis Ave Maria, or Paternoster, pri 
 or to entering upon tbe duties and engagements 
 of the day. At this spot candles are kept burning 
 both by day and night, and the place is one of sa¬ 
 cred awe t o all good Catholics. The blessing- and 
 dedication of a mine is, consequently, an era ot im¬ 
 portance, and one not lightly to be passed over or 
 indifferently celebrated. 
 
 “ On the morning of the day set apart for this cer¬ 
 emony, the Mexican children flock in from the sur¬ 
 rounding country, in anticipation of a general holi¬ 
 day, to begin at an early hour. Of course, at such 
 a time, the proprietor sends out invitations to those 
 guests he is particularly desirous should be present 
 to do honor to the occasion. Arriving in procession 
 at the entrance of the mine, the Catholic curate per 
 forms mass, and formally blesses the mine, and all 
 persons present, and all those who may work in it. 
 - After the ceremonies outside are concluded, they all 
 repair to the inside of the mino, where the Father 
 proceeds to sprinkle holy water and to bless it.” 
 
 After such dedicatory services, tho miner has but 
 little fear that anything dangerous will overtake 
 him, and he toils on fearlessly, with tho utmost confi¬ 
 dence that “ whatever is, is right;” whether it bo 
 Mabomedan idolatry, or the noonday light of true 
 Christianity. 
 
THE QUICKSILVER MINE. 
 
 435 
 
 THE MAMMOTH CAYE. 
 
 As this remarkable curiosity is connected with a 
 (good road, from San Andress to the Big Trees, here¬ 
 tofore described, the traveler will have but little 
 trouble when visiting them, to also improve the op¬ 
 portunity to see this cave—second, perhaps, in inter¬ 
 est to none on the Continent—its wonderful charac¬ 
 ter, its many remarkable features, its great magnitude 
 and wonderful formations, every visitor to the Big 
 Trees ought to see. 
 
 When nature steps out of her usual course to 
 make anything very beautiful, or very wonderful, 
 it is not unreasonable to expect that men and wo- 
 ' men generally will be gratefully willing to go out of 
 their way to see it. It is true, that many men love 
 money more than nature; others love nature more 
 than money; and yet often feel too poor, almost, to 
 gratify that love. Others have become so much ha¬ 
 bituated to the same stool in the counting-house, the 
 same old chair in the office, the same familiar stand¬ 
 ing-place in the store, and the same spot in the work¬ 
 shop, mine or field, that nothing short of an earth¬ 
 quake or revolution could induce them to turn aside 
 from the well-worn highway of business habit, to 
 see anything beyond themselves and their business 
 routine. In their eyes it is the Alpha and Omega 
 of life—the beginning and end of all things; yea, of 
 
436 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 life itself. Unfortunately, habit unfits them for any¬ 
 thing beyond the man-machine. 
 
 The blue sky, the bright sunshine, the flower-car¬ 
 peted earth, the foliage-clocked trees, the moss-grown 
 caverns, the mighty hills, or .the forest-form harps 
 touched by the fingers of the wind and playing their 
 grand old anthems of praise, have an inviting and 
 suggestive voice that man was made for enjoyment 
 as well as duty; for happiness as well as business; 
 and the probability is apparent, that the godlike fa¬ 
 cilities bestowed upon him,enabling him to hold com¬ 
 munion with the beautiful and ennobling, the sub¬ 
 lime or wonderful, would not have been if man were 
 not expected to be something loftier than a mere 
 humdrum business machine. 
 
 Nature sometimes turns over some new and won¬ 
 derful pages in her glorious old volume, and discov¬ 
 ers to men such morsels as the groves of mammoth 
 ytrees, the Yo Semite, the Geysers, the Natural Bridg¬ 
 es and' Caves, and more recently the Alabaster Cave 
 of El Dorado County. 
 
 On such occasions, there are many persons who 
 will find time to open their sight-seeing eyes, and 
 take a glimpse, if only to say they have seen them, 
 lest they should be deemed behind the age, or out of 
 fashion; but there are others again, and their name 
 is legion, who admire, yea, almost worship, the beau- 
 
THE MAMMOTH CAVE. 437 
 
 Wul, tlie grand, the astonishing, from the handful of 
 soil that put out so many varieties of rare and fra¬ 
 grant flowers and luscious fruits, to the vast cathe¬ 
 dral-formed arches, and intricate draperies of stone, 
 produced by chemical agencies and mystical combi¬ 
 nations in one or more of nature’s great labaratories 
 beneath the surface of the earth. With the latter 
 class, it is always a pleasure to be in company, as a 
 pleasure shared is always doubled; besides, kindred 
 spirits have a happy faculty of reproduction denied 
 to others. 
 
 This cave was accidentally discovered Dy somo 
 men a few years ago, employed to excavate a place 
 for a lime kiln in El Dorado Valley, along the turn¬ 
 pike road; when, upon the removal of some loose 
 rock, a large aperture was visible, sufficiently large 
 for them to enter. They procured candles, and be¬ 
 gan at once their explorations, and soon found that 
 California had another remarkable wonder—a very 
 large and beautiful cave, both curious and interest¬ 
 ing. On our first entrance, we descended about fif¬ 
 teen feet gradually to the centre of a room which is 
 one hundred by thirty feet. At the north end there is 
 the most magnificent pulpit, in the Episcopal Church 
 style, that man has ever seen. It seems that it is, 
 and should be, called the “ Holy of Holies.It is 
 completed with the most beautiful drapery of alabas- 
 
438 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 ter sterites, varying from all colors,' from white to 
 pink-red, overhanging the beholder. Immediately 
 under the pulpit there is a beautiful lake of water, 
 extending to an unknown distance. We thought 
 this all; but, to our great admiration, on arriving at 
 the centre of the first room, we saw an entrance to 
 an inner chamber, still more splendid, two hundred 
 by one hundred feet, with the most beautiful alabas¬ 
 ter overhanging in every possible shape of drapery. 
 Here stands magnitude, giving the instant impres¬ 
 sion of a power above man, grandeur that defies de¬ 
 cay, antiquity that tells of ages unnumbered, beau¬ 
 ty that the touch of time makes more beautiful, use 
 exhaustless for the service of men, strength imper¬ 
 ishable as the globe, the monument of eternity, tho 
 truest earthly emblem of that everlasting, unchanga- 
 ble and irresistible Majesty, by whom and for whom 
 all things were made. 
 
 As soon as this interesting discovery was circula¬ 
 ted abroad, the people flocked in from all the min¬ 
 ing settlements, to visit the newly discovered cave. 
 The owner began immediately to make accommoda¬ 
 tions and prepare it for the reception of tho public, 
 by building a hotel and placing a largo number of 
 lamps, at different points, to illuminate the various 
 apartments. 
 
 At the entrance is a door, which is carefully lo<ck- 
 
THE MAMMOTH CAVE. 
 
 439 
 
 ed when no one is within. Upon entering w^e de¬ 
 scend a few steps, and enter a room twenty-five feet 
 in length, by about twenty feet in width, and from 
 six to twelve feet in height. Here is a desk, upon 
 which is a book—“ Coral Cave Register.” 
 
 This book was presented by some gentlemen who 
 believed that “ Coral Cave” would be the most ap¬ 
 propriate name, as a greater proportion of the orna¬ 
 ments are stalactites, being like beautifully frozen 
 mosses, or fine coral. Passing along another pas¬ 
 sage, we come to the enchantment. Before us is a 
 broad, oddly-shaped and low-roofed chamber, about 
 one hundred and twenty feet in length by seventy 
 feet in breadth, and ranging from four to twenty feet 
 in height. Bright, coral-like stalactites hang down 
 in irregular rows and in almost every variety of 
 shape and shade—from milk white to cream color— 
 standing in inviting relief to the dark arches above, 
 and the frowning butraces on either side; while low, 
 broad redges, some almost black, others of a reddish 
 brown, stretch from either side, [between which the 
 space is ornamented with peculiar coloring that re¬ 
 sembles a grotesq kind of graining. Descending 
 toward the lift, we approach one of the most beau¬ 
 tiful stalactite groupesin this apartment. 
 
 Some of these are fine pendants—no larger than 
 pipe-stems—tubular, and from two to five ^feet in 
 
410 
 
 BEYOND the west. 
 
 length. Threo or four there were over eight feet 
 long; but the early admitted Vandals destroyed or 
 carried them off. Others resemble the ears of white 
 elephants, (if such an animal could be known to nat¬ 
 ural history,) while others again present the appear¬ 
 ance of long and slender cones, inverted. By exam¬ 
 ining this and other groups more closely, we ascer¬ 
 tain that at their base are numerous coral-like ex¬ 
 crescences of great beauty; here, like petrified moss, 
 brilliant and almost transparent; there, a pretty fun« 
 giis, tipped with diamonds; yonder, like miniature 
 trees, which, to accommodate themselves to circum¬ 
 stances, have grown with their tops downward. In 
 other places are apparent fleeces of the finest Merino 
 wool or floss silk. Leaving these, by turning to the 
 right, we can ascend a ladder and see other combi¬ 
 nations of such mysterious beauty as to highly gratily 
 and repay us. Hero is the loftiest part of the cham¬ 
 ber. Leaving this, you arrive at a large statagmite 
 that resembles a tying-post for horses, and which 
 has been dignified or mystified by such names as 
 “ Lot’s Wife,” (if so, she was a very dwarf of a woman, 
 ds its altitude is but four feet and two inches, and 
 its circumference at the base, threo feet and one 
 .inch,) “Hercules Club,” “Brodignag’s fore-finger,”&c. 
 
 Passing on over a small rise of apparently snow- 
 congealed or petrified floor, wo look down into an 
 
TEE MAMMOTH CAVE. 
 
 441 
 
 immense cavernous depth, where the roof is covered 
 with icicles and coral, and whose sides are draped 
 with jet. In one of these awe-giving solitudes is 
 suspended a heart that, from its size, might be im¬ 
 agined to belong to one of a race of human giants. 
 
 On one side of this, is an elevated and nearly level 
 natural floor, upon which a table and seats have been 
 temporarily erected for the convenience of choris¬ 
 ters, or for public worship. 
 
 It would have gratified us beyond measure to have 
 heard these “ vaulted hills” resound, by symphonies 
 of some grand anthem from Mozart, or Haydn, or 
 Mendelssohn. Many of the pendant harps would 
 have echoed them in delicious harmonies,from cham¬ 
 ber to chamber, and carried them around, from roof 
 to wall, throughout the whole of these rock-formed 
 vistas. TVo must not linger horo too long, but enter 
 other little chambers, in whose roofs are formations 
 that resemble streams of water that have been ar¬ 
 rested in their flow and turned to ice. In another 
 a perfectly formed, but from one point of view and 
 from another, the front of a small elephant’s head. 
 
 A beautiful bell-shaped hollow, near here, is called 
 “Julia’s Bower.” Advancing along a narrow, low- 
 roofed passage, we emerge into the most beautiful 
 chamber of the whole suite, entitled “The Crystal 
 Chapel.” It is impossible to find suitable language 
 
442 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 or comparisons with which to describe this magnifi¬ 
 cent spot. From the beginning we have felt that we 
 were almost presumptuous in attempting to portray 
 these wonderful scenes; but, in the hope of induc¬ 
 ing others to see with their natural eyes, the sights 
 
 x 
 
 that we have seen, and enjoy the pleasure that we 
 have enjoyed, we entered upon the task, even though 
 inadequately, of giving an outline—nothing more. 
 Here, however, we confess ourself entirely at a loss. 
 
 Miss Needham, a young lady visitor, has succeed¬ 
 ed in giving an admirable idea of this sublime sight 
 in an excellent drawing made upon the spot, which 
 wo have engraved and herewith present to the read¬ 
 er. The sublime grandeur of this imposing sight, 
 fills the soul.with astonishment, that swells up from 
 within as though its purpose was to make the be¬ 
 holder speechless ; the language of silence being the 
 most fitting and impressive, when puny man treads 
 the great halls of nature, the more surely to lead 
 him humbly from these, to the untold glory of the 
 Infinite One, who devised the laws and superintend¬ 
 ed the processes which brought such wonders into 
 being. After the mind seems prepared to examine 
 the gorgeous spectacle somewhat in detail, wo look 
 upon the ceiling, if we may so speak, which .is en¬ 
 tirely covered with myriads of the most beautiful 
 etone icicles—long, large and beautiful. A Between 
 
K 
 
 CRYSTAL CHAPEL IN ALABASTER CAVE* 
 
THE MAMMOTH CAYE. 443 
 
 those are squares or pannels, the mulli-ons or bars of 
 which seem to be formed of diamonds ; while the 
 pannels themselves resemble the frosting upon win¬ 
 dows in the very depths of winter—and even these 
 are of many colors—that most prevailing being of a 
 light, pinkish cream. Moss, coral, floss, wool, trees 
 and many other forms, adorn the interstices between 
 the larger of the stalactites. At the farther end is 
 one vast mass of rock, resembling congealed water, 
 apparently formed into many falls and little hillocks, 
 in many instances connected by pillars with the roof 
 above. Deep down and underneath this is the en¬ 
 trance by which we reached this chamber. 
 
 At our right stands a large stalagmite, dome-shap¬ 
 ed at the top, and covered with beautiful, undulating 
 and wavy folds. Every imaginary gracefulness pos¬ 
 sible, to the most curiously arranged drapery, is here 
 
 visible, “carved in alabaster,'’ by the Great Archi- 
 
 « 
 
 tect of the Universe. 
 
 This is named the “Pulpit.” In order to exam 
 ine this object with more minuteness, a temporary 
 platform has been erected, which, although deti ac¬ 
 tive of the general effect in our opinion, affords a 
 nearer and better view of all these remarkable ob- 
 jects in detail. , 
 
 This spectacle, as well as the others, being bril¬ 
 liantly illuminated, the scene is very imposing, and 
 
444 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 reminds one of the highly wrought pictures of the 
 imagination, painted in such charming language and 
 with such good effect in such words as the “ Arabi- 
 an Knights.” 
 
 Other apartments, known as the “Picture Galle¬ 
 ry,” &c., might detain us longer ; but, as they bear 
 a striking resemblance in many respects to other 
 scenes already described, we must take our leave, in 
 
 v 
 
 the hope that we have said enough to enlist an in* 
 creased attention in favor of this, another California 
 wonder. 
 
 The traveler will find the railway ride from Sac- 
 ramento to Falsom a pleasant one; from there, by 
 stage, ten miles over rolling hills, with picturesque 
 scenery, to the cave; the guides obliging, and tho 
 place one of the most remarkable and imposing, full 
 of Nature’s wondrous works. We say' to every vis¬ 
 itor in the State, “ Go and see it.” A place of such 
 unusual beauty and grandeur, is, indeed, “ a joy for¬ 
 ever.” 
 
 As the travel is now made quick and easy, from 
 the East to the Pacific, people will doubtless visit 
 this land of wonders by thousands yearly, and see 
 with their own eyes, the remarkable places we have 
 described in this brief work. We should like to 
 give the various routes to them, but tfney are almost 
 as numerous as tho different roads that Christians 
 
THE MAMMOTH CAVE. 445 
 
 take to their expected Heaven. We have given the 
 principal ones only; and after having noticed the 
 following unanswerable argument of a celebrated 
 divine to the uncharitable members of his church, 
 shall close t>ur description of them, and leave many 
 more wonderful places, of which this country has so 
 many, unnoticed: 
 
 V 
 
 “There was a Christian brother, a Presbyteri¬ 
 an, who walked up to the gate of the New Jeru¬ 
 salem and knocked for admittance, when an angel 
 who was in charge, looked down from above and in¬ 
 quired what he wanted. ‘To come in/ was the an¬ 
 swer. ‘Who and what are you?’ ‘A Presbyteri¬ 
 an.’ ‘ Sit on that seat there.’ This was on the out¬ 
 side of the gate, and the good man feared that he 
 had been refused admittance. Presently arrived an 
 Episcopalian, then a Baptist, then a Methodist, and 
 so on, until a representative from every Christian 
 sect had made his appearance, and were alike order¬ 
 ed to take a seat outside. Before they had long 
 been there,” continued the good man, “a loud an¬ 
 them broke forth, rolling and swelling upon the air, 
 from the choir withiu, when those outside immedi¬ 
 ately joined in the chorus. ‘ Oh!’ said the angel, 
 as he opened wide the gate, ‘I did not know you 
 by your names ; but you have all learned one song. 
 Come in—come in! The name you bear, or the way 
 
416 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 by which von come, is of little consequence, com¬ 
 pared with your being here at all.’ ” 
 
 “ Where rose the mountains, there to him were friends; 
 Where rolled the ocean, thereon was his home.. 
 
 Where a blue sky and glowing clime extends 
 He had the passion and the power to roam. 
 
 The desert, forest, cavern, breaker’s foam, 
 
 Were unto him companionship.” 
 
 As there are many who throng tho highway of 
 elevating and refining pleasure, in Spring and Sum¬ 
 mer, to feast the eye and enjoy the beautiful, we are 
 ready to say, but few countries possess more to ad¬ 
 mire and improve the knowledge of the traveler, 
 than California. Her towering mountains on either 
 side, with her wide-spread valleys between, carpet¬ 
 ed most of the year with flowers; her remarkable 
 waterfalls’; her foaming mountain cataracts; her 
 rushing rivers ; her beautiful lakes ; her heavily 
 timbered forests ; her gently rolling hills, covered 
 with blooming shrubs, and trees, and wild flowers ; 
 her deposits of the precious metals; her mines of 
 agricultural wealth contained in the soil; her Mount 
 Diabalo ; her Mount Shasta ; her great natural caves 
 and ridges ; her mammoth trees ; her geysers ; her 
 quicksilver mines; her inspiring, picturesque Yo 
 Semite, give a voiceless invitation to the traveler to 
 look upon her and admire. 
 
 When the Committee of Wavs and Means reports 
 
THE MAMMOTH CAVE. 
 
 447 
 
 itself, financially and otherwise, prepared, to under¬ 
 take the continental journey—in order to fully enjoy 
 it, we must leave the “peck of troubles,” and the 
 thousand and one things entirely behind—have none 
 but genial-hearted companions, a sufficient supply 
 of personal patience, good humor, forbearance, and 
 not be in a hurry. 
 
CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 We are nowin about the center of the State, north 
 and south, returning from the remarkable place de¬ 
 scribed in the previous chapter, and stand on the 
 Nevadas surveying this strange country. To the east 
 lie the extended alkali deserts, no doubt once the 
 bottom of an inland sea, thrown up with this moun¬ 
 tain range at some distant period by volcanic pres¬ 
 sure. 
 
 As we look north and south we see the ridges and 
 the broken peaks along which many volbanoes once 
 blazed. Here we have most plainly an immense 
 country of volcanic origin, now sustaining remarka¬ 
 ble forests, without which the great railroad could 
 not have been built. 
 
 But we are going west. We see a belt twenty 
 miles wide from where we are of magnificent forests. 
 In this belt are the sugar pines, some nearly three 
 hundred feet high, and the “ Big Trees.” No finer 
 timber than that which grows on this strip can bo 
 found. Next to this is a belt some forty miles wide, 
 beginning in British Columbia, which is known as 
 the Golden Belt, and is also celebrated as the most 
 
BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OF CALIFORNIA 449 
 
 wonderful fruit-bearing region. Here tlie peach, the 
 pear, the apple, the cherry, the nectarine, the al¬ 
 mond, the pomegranate and the fir yield most abun¬ 
 dantly. Here also the grapes grow and bear 
 abundantly—almost beyond belief. We believe a 
 more remarkable belt of the same extent cannot be 
 found anywhere on the face of nature. 
 
 As we go through these belts we see the mountains, 
 hills and valley, spotted with cattle and sheep paths, 
 near enough together to let these natural engineers 
 appropriate the wild oats. Here in the hills grow 
 that wild fruit, the manzanita (or little apple) which 
 the Indians gather to give a relish to their dry 
 acorns. Here, beneath the lofty mountain ranges, 
 in their productive and beautiful foot-hills and in 
 their bewitching valleys, sleeps the gold yet to be 
 found. There we look off over the great Sacramento 
 Valley and the Coast Range of mountains, where the 
 great ocean is kissing their b^se. On the western 
 slope of these mountains, amid the fogs, is found that 
 remarkable tree, the “ redwood,” from which boards 
 are often made six feet wide. It is a species of ce¬ 
 dar, and is used more for building purposes than all 
 other kinds of wood in the country. 
 
 Still beyond, in the ocean are several islands, some 
 the home of birds, from which large quantities of 
 eggs are taken to the city. Others, inhabited by 
 
450 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 that nncouth monster the sea-lion—weighing-, when 
 full grown, from two to five thousand pounds. We 
 saw on the rocks, not far from the shore, many of 
 these awkward creatures basking in the sun—some 
 appear pugnacious and very noisy. 
 
 Some of the islands furnish superior advantages 
 for keeping large flocks of sheep, growing the very 
 best of wool. I was told that one man had a flock 
 of two hundred thousand. 
 
 The coast range of mountains holds the great Pacific 
 in its place, or rather several ranges of these moun¬ 
 tains, parallel with each other. This range is from 
 two to ten thousand feet high, and from thirty to 
 forty miles wide. Between this and the Nevada 
 mountain ranges lies the great Sacramento Valley , 
 about five hundred miles long by fifty wide. 
 
 This now valley no doubt was once a great inland 
 ocean, which in process of time broke through the 
 coast range in the centre of the State, by wearing a 
 channel into the ocean over a mile wide. This open¬ 
 ing is known as the “ Golden Gate.” Why this nar¬ 
 row gorge, from the bay to the ocean, should receive 
 
 * 
 
 this name long before the discovery of gold, was a 
 study, for it had nothing to do with the discovery of 
 gold. I could get no other theory than this : As the 
 coast is approached from the ocean, the entrance has 
 the appearance of opening, like a gate; and as we 
 
BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OP CALIFORNIA. 451 
 
 look in through the heavy fog which fills the open¬ 
 ing, we see the yellow sunlight resting upon the 
 fog, brilliant and golden—concentrated in the nar¬ 
 rowest part of the channel, where the fort stands— 
 looking in the fore part of the day like a great pillar 
 of fire hanging over the gate, and hence the name. 
 Subsequent discoveries and developments in the coun¬ 
 try, have shown it truly to be a Golden Gate—the 
 entrance to untold treasure. 
 
 Near the equator in the Pacific, as in the Atlantic, 
 starts a river in the ocean. It flows up the coast 
 of China, till it gets to Behring’s Straits; into these 
 it rushes and melts the icebergs, so that there are 
 none in the Pacific. In doing this, it becomes very 
 cold, and turns down in the direction of our coast. 
 It goes to the Alentian Islands, where a part is de¬ 
 flected and makes towards the Sandwich Islands, 
 making temperate what otherwise would be unin¬ 
 habitable. A part of this now immensely chilled 
 river flows down along the coast of Oregon and 
 California. As these colder waters come near the 
 coast, they are forced up to the surface and chill the 
 vapors in the air, condenses them, and in the night 
 cause a heavy fog, which hangs along the coast of 
 California. Why does not this sea-fog cover the 
 land? Because it never rises over one thousand 
 feet; and as the coast mountains are much higher 
 
452 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 than this, they keep it back. But at the Golden 
 Gate, where there is an opening, having a chance, it 
 does roll in every day and envelops San Francisco 
 from about the middle of the afternoon till towards 
 nine o'clock in the morning. 
 
 The inquiry has often been made, Why this unu¬ 
 sual fog in and about the city, and no where else in¬ 
 side the coast range? But there is another reason 
 why the fog does not go in and possess the land. 
 The great valley spoken of is the laboratory of tho 
 State. There the sun comes down in its strength, 
 and the heated, thirsty air rises, and drinks up all 
 the moisture the ocean can send inland, long before 
 it can become a rain-cloud. But there are unseen 
 mists coming in from the ocean during the summer, 
 as the wind always blows from the west at that sea¬ 
 son of the year. This more heated atmosphere min¬ 
 gles with the colder, which drives down over the 
 snowy Nevadas, making the nights always cool, and 
 refreshing to man or beast. 
 
 The stranger, on visiting California, is somewhat 
 bewildered. He finds everything different from what 
 he expected, or ever saw before. He seemed to have, 
 either designedly or accidentally, alighted on another 
 different country, where Nature has conspired to 
 confound and enjoy his confusion. 
 
 How different from the Atlantic States. Here the 
 
BIRD’s-EYE VIEW OP CALIFORNIA. 453 
 
 winds change oftener than we have days. There 
 they blow in one direction six months of the year, and 
 then the opposite for the other six months. Here, 
 while the earth is frozen down and covered by deep 
 snows, there they have no winter, and are plowing 
 and sowing the seed, to grow unto the early harvest 
 the finest of wheat. Here we have storms and show¬ 
 ers ; there they have no rain in summer—only in win¬ 
 ter. Here our trees lose their foliage; there they 
 wear their green covering the whole year. Here 
 we have the thick greensward ; there they have no 
 turf. Here the farmer, with much labor and care, 
 harvests his hay and grain ; there he cuts hay only 
 for the market, and threshes his hundreds, and per¬ 
 haps thousands, of acres of wheat in the field, throw 
 down the bags behind the machine to lie until want¬ 
 ed for market, confident that neither storms or dews 
 will injure them. Here we have several kinds of 
 wood, out of which implements and tools can be 
 made; there they have no tree suitable for making 
 a wagon, a plow or an axe-helve. Here everything 
 is small when compared to the wonderful vegetable 
 growth there—so much so, that one is tempted to 
 doubt his own eyes. Between the spurs of the Coast 
 Range are many beautiful and productive valleys, 
 from ten to a hundred miles long. As we stand od 
 the mountains, and look down into the Napa, the 
 
\ 
 
 
 454 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 Sonoma, the Russian and the Santa Clara Valleys, they 
 have the appearance of lakes changed into land. 
 
 These valleys are so favorable to the sun that ev¬ 
 erything grows and matures very early. The farm¬ 
 ers here harvest their crops about the middle of 
 May. The refreshing winds which climb over the 
 Coast Range sweep over these valleys, and also fan 
 the foot-hills of the Nevadas. Generally, from about 
 the first of May to November, there is no rain or 
 dew in California. 
 
 The grains have all ripened; the grass has dried 
 up where it grew, full of seed, making rich pasture, 
 for there is no part of the year when animals fatten 
 so much as upon what we would call the worthless 
 grass in the field, but full of nourishment then. 
 The ground becomes parched, and rests till the fall 
 rains. We must wait till winter, when we are deep 
 in the snows, to see this Pacific land fresh, luxuriant 
 and beautiful. February is their month of beauty, 
 as June is with us. Upon the uplands, during the dry 
 summer, without water vegetation dies. With wa¬ 
 ter, we see a fertility, a beauty unequaled, and hard¬ 
 ly to be imagined. Consequently, the windmill eve¬ 
 ry where, is an indispensable part of every house, fur¬ 
 nishing water for the family, the gardens and for the 
 animals usually. The value of the ranch is increas¬ 
 ed very much by having a stream of water upon it. 
 
455 
 
 BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 It is interesting to notice how things will adapt 
 themselves to circumstances. The trees and vege¬ 
 tables here have a long tap-root, which penetrates 
 the soil far down after moisture—enabling it to grow 
 without rain a longer time. Providence seems to so 
 constitute everything in this world as to draw its 
 sustenance and natural life from the earth, directly 
 or indirectly. It is evident that all the human fam¬ 
 ily, all the animal creation, all the fishes and all the 
 insect world, are “ served by the field.” 
 
 Nature furnishes materials, and it is for man to 
 appropriate and improve them, to turn nature’s 
 wastes into gardens of utility and beauty. The popu¬ 
 lation a country can feed and clothe, depends on her 
 capabilities of soil and climate, and not on what her 
 mines will yield. 
 
 We have no other State which has so great a va¬ 
 riety of soil and climate as California, and no State 
 which will produce such a large variety of pro¬ 
 ducts. All that is grown in the temperate zone or 
 in the semi-tropical climate will grow here, of su¬ 
 perior size and quality. The soil and climate is so 
 generous, that the same amount of labor.will give 
 larger returns than anywhere else. Apples and 
 pears are often gathered the second year from plant¬ 
 ing the seed. 
 
 The rapidity of growth here will astonish an East- 
 
456 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 ern traveler. Here we see beets that will weigh 
 over a hundred pounds each; onions at least ten 
 inches across the top; cabbages weighing eighty 
 pounds, .and the smaller vegetables in proportion-. 
 Fruit is raised so easily that it has a low market. 
 The cars that come up from the Santa Clara Yalley 
 bring to San Francisco several tons of strawberries 
 daily, and this most delicious fruit is in the market 
 every month in the year. 
 
 The potato will give two annual crops, and such 
 potatoes ! One would suppose they were at least 
 two years in growing. 
 
 The long, dry summer allows the farmer to har¬ 
 vest his wheat and barley when he chooses, which 
 are ripe the last of May or the first of June; but 
 do not injure by shelling or otherwise by standing 
 after ripening, as with us. 
 
 There are many overgrown estates in California „ 
 which are injurious to the prosperity of any country. 
 
 I visited one in San Joaquin Yalley, near Stockton, 
 of some twenty thousand acres, sixteen thousand of 
 which was in wheat that year. To prepare the 
 ground the owner had nine hundred horses plowing 
 at the same time. Should he get an average crop 
 the sacks to put it in would cost him at least thirty 
 thousand dollars. Some stock-raisers have estates 
 large enough to keep a hundred thousand head of 
 cattle upon them and large flocks of sheep. 
 
BIRDSEYE VIEW OP CALIFORNIA. 457 
 
 These large estates will, no doubt, soon be divided 
 up for the good of the many. The Japanese have 
 purchased large sections of land here, for the pur¬ 
 pose of cultivating the mulberry and making silk. 
 They are, no doubt, the most skillful silk growers in 
 the world. The climate and soil is supposed to be 
 admirably adapted to the business. They also de¬ 
 sign to undertake the cultivation of the tea plant. 
 Every kind of grape known on the earth’s surface 
 will grow here in perfection. 
 
 Along the Golden Belt, in the foot-hills of the Ne- 
 vadas, the whole length of the State is a volcanic 
 belt from thirty to forty miles wide, which is exact¬ 
 ly adapted to the wants of the vine. The west coast 
 range has also become celebrated for the fruitful¬ 
 ness of the vine. In Sonoma Valley are some of the 
 largest vineyards. The State now produces over 
 seven millions gallons of wine annually, and the in¬ 
 crease 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 be¬ 
 come 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 treas¬ 
 ure. Nobody supposed the soil could be made to 
 
458 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 produce anything. Consequently this more im¬ 
 portant branch of industry was for a long time 
 neglected. But time passed on; necessity and 
 the usual quick observation and the adaptation of 
 our people to circumstances, soon learn 0 ' 1 them that 
 they were not only in a golden land, out also in the 
 midst of a region unequaled in the world for agri¬ 
 cultural productiveness. 
 
 California is about eight hundred miles long by 
 two hundred wide. It has two parallel mountain 
 ranges its whole length. Much of it' is so frCeep and 
 broken that cultivation is impossible. Yet it is sup¬ 
 posed the State can support a population of twenty 
 millions by her own resources. 
 
 A wise Providence seems to have reserved the 
 Pacific slope of this continent till the Eastern por¬ 
 tion had become settled, and His institutions estab¬ 
 lished 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 prosper¬ 
 ous growth—at least, nothing above ground. The 
 entrauce from the Pacific, through the Golden Gate 
 
• BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OP CALIFORNIA. 459 
 
 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 sand¬ 
 hills, 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 for¬ 
 bidding 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 ar¬ 
 chitecture 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 profit¬ 
 able investment. The city has several miles of 
 very expensive wharfage now built, and steamship 
 lines for China, Japan, Sandwich Islands and Ore¬ 
 gon. She is now a great commercial and manufac¬ 
 turing 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 strong¬ 
 est. This steady, pervading wfind inland from the 
 
460 BEYOND THE WEST, 
 
 4 
 
 ocean, cools the otherwise unendurable heat in the 
 valleys, and gives to California her agreeable sum¬ 
 mer season. While the isothermal line on the At¬ 
 lantic slope sweeps down from the ice-bound Arc¬ 
 tic 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 fro¬ 
 zen down they are ploughing and sowing, to grow 
 the best wheat in the world. 
 
 The warm breezes from the south give to Califor¬ 
 nia her mellow and most agreeable winter season. 
 Probably owing to the climate, children here have 
 the fairest, fullest and greatest physical develop¬ 
 ment. 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 up in this country a race 
 of men, physically, such as has no where else been 
 found. There is one kind of human element in Cal¬ 
 ifornia, 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 multi¬ 
 tudes of ancient China saw some deliverance, and 
 soon thousands of them were scattered over Cali for- 
 
461 
 
 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 ivell —the very best substitute 
 for female labor. Their labor was indispensable 
 from the very first. Had it not been for them, Cal¬ 
 ifornia 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 hap¬ 
 py 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 dol¬ 
 lars a month, which ho could save if he were a citi¬ 
 zen. 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, en¬ 
 during, 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 
 
462 
 
 BEYOND THE 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 num¬ 
 bers as ultimately to control the country. I have no 
 fears of this. The Anglo Saxon race having founded 
 and made this country wliat it is, with their original 
 traits of character to control, to govern, wfill 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 them¬ 
 selves, 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 na¬ 
 tion is so sure to impress itself on mankind, upon 
 whatever it undertakes, as ours; and I have no mis¬ 
 givings as to the power which will control this coun¬ 
 try in the future as in the past. There are other 
 
BIRDSEYE VIEW OP CALIFORNIA. 
 
 463 
 
 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 coun¬ 
 try larger than any oue 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 coun¬ 
 try 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 sum¬ 
 mer, 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 degree. 
 
464 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 Previous to the Mexican war, we knew California 
 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 majes¬ 
 tic 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 an¬ 
 other 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 af¬ 
 ter followed the discovery of untold wealth. Ex¬ 
 citement 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 Con¬ 
 gress for admission as a State. California came—the 
 fairest daughter of the Pacific—with her garments 
 trimmed with gold ; none could refuse her—not one. 
 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 and held the Government steady, as her 
 
' 
 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OP CALIFORNIA. 465 
 
 paper credit extended during our late war, unparal¬ 
 leled 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 convul¬ 
 sions of cruel war. But as time passes, government 
 credit grows stronger ; the Old Ship moves on stead¬ 
 ily to her moorings again, because she is balasted 
 with gold. The discovery of gold in California gave 
 a^timulous to every department of business, advanc¬ 
 ed civilization at home and abroad, and stirred up 
 old nations to seek more comfortable homes, by hav¬ 
 ing 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 
 silver 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 
 
 
 . 
 
466 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 within the last twenty years in Christian civiliza¬ 
 tion farther than in any previous century. 
 
 Nature has done much to make-this sunset land of 
 ours a homo 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 ill results to the hu¬ 
 man family, for both hemispheres. Here the people 
 from the East and from the West meet—here they 
 unite their interests. It would seem to be the plan 
 of 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 
 fair land, the utmost part of the West. 
 
 Here, on this western margin of the globe, our peo¬ 
 ple have found a heritage which rivals the land of 
 promise, as described by the Prophet: “ A land of 
 brooks, of water, of fountains and depths, that spring 
 out of the valleys and hills; a land of wheat and bar¬ 
 ley, and vines and fig trees, and pomegranates ; a 
 land of oil, olive and honey; a land in which thou 
 
BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OP CALIFORNIA. 467 
 
 shall eat bread without scarceness; thou shalt not 
 lack anything in it; a land whose stones are iron, and 
 outot 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 mod¬ 
 ern powers in its rich effulgence. Then it traveled 
 across the ocean, to pour its greatest and latest splen¬ 
 dor down upon America with a pervading glory, ever 
 spreading on across the Continent, until its mission 
 was accomplished, and it fell on California—the Em¬ 
 pire of the West. 
 
 The remembrance of many scenes and experien¬ 
 ces 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 magnificent—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* 
 
468 
 
 BEYOND THE WEST. 
 
 ed domain ; of our developed and undeveloped re¬ 
 sources ; of the future home of millions, bound to¬ 
 gether by a common interest of Divine love and hu¬ 
 man brotherhood, from Ocean to Ocean; but one 
 great Nation, one Government, one Glorious Flag; 
 one Noble Destinf, 
 

 
 # 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 CLIMATE OF THE PACIFIC COAST. 
 
 The causes of the peculiar (unlike elsewhere) cli¬ 
 mates 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 im¬ 
 portant 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 is as yet the least known and deter 
 mined—the marine currents of the Pacific Ocean— 
 which have a vast influence in determining the cli¬ 
 mates 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 fortu¬ 
 nate mixture of oceanic and continental climates 
 which characterizes this coast, or from undiscovered 
 causes, future investigation must determine. 
 
470 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 In this brief account of the climates of the 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, pos¬ 
 sessing 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 pro¬ 
 ducing the ordinary grains and fruits of a temperate 
 climate, and support a largo population, as much so 
 as any part of Northern Europe. Starting as far north 
 as Alaska, where the mean annual temperaturo is 
 32 deg., the same as that of the north coast of Lake 
 Superior, and is several degrees farther,to the Noi th ; 
 Mnd yet equally as warm, should we come down to 
 Sitka, (from which the ice used in California is 
 brought,) we have the summer of Norway, (55 deg. 
 nean); and crossing the coast mountains to the inte¬ 
 rior country, more especially on the plains, we have 
 precisely in its latitude the sunny summer of 
 France (G5 deg. mean.) There is an immense re¬ 
 gion in this part of the continent, stretching as far 
 as GO deg. north latitude, beyond Alaska, capable of 
 producing the bread grains. 
 
CLIMATE OP THE PACIFIC COAST. 
 
 471 
 
 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 Af¬ 
 rica, for a distance of 1,500 miles north and south. 
 This very xemarkable range of a cool and mild sum¬ 
 mer (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 ran¬ 
 ges 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 Hudson’s Bay and Scotland, we have the 
 summer of Prance (65 deg. mean.) This belt of 
 agreeable summer climate, though interrupted by 
 the Rocky Mountains, we will find, inside the coast 
 ranges rid we reach Lower California; or, as if from 
 Scotland to Africa, one belt of delicious summer ex¬ 
 tending across Europe. 
 
 Starting in the latitude of Puget’s Sound, east- 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 472 
 
 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 inter¬ 
 rupted 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 fig and the olive. 
 
 Puget’s Sound has, on its northern coast, the cli¬ 
 mate 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 tem¬ 
 perature hardly surpassed anywhere,—the ther¬ 
 mometer 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 Ave examine the winter temperature, we dis- 
 cover that the winter of Ireland, England, Western 
 
1 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 
 474 
 
 winter is quite like an English summer, showery but 
 delightful. The wind currents from the sea begin 
 in the morning and gradually increase till midday, 
 and 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, Peteluma, and 
 others, all the way up to the Russian River, have 
 a most delightful climate. 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 which 
 distinguishes the wines of this favored region. 
 
 All odors and oils are strengthened by this won¬ 
 derful climate, which, with the application of water^ 
 
CLIMATE OP THE PACIFIC COAST. 475 
 
 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 circum¬ 
 stances might be unadapted to these. Such is the 
 wonderful quality of nature here, and the remark¬ 
 able energy of our people in this invigorating cli¬ 
 mate, 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 re¬ 
 laxation or excessive fatigue, and can accomplish as 
 much as double the number elsewhere. The temp¬ 
 tation for men to over-exerciso 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 stu¬ 
 dent of Nature, from our Atlantic slope, were sud¬ 
 denly dropped down, blindfolded, on the Pacific 
 coast, in valley or on mountain, he would know as 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 476 
 
 soon as lie 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, mak¬ 
 ing 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 civiliza¬ 
 tion and its advantages, the most important is cli¬ 
 mate; 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 tho 
 world’s climate. 
 
 Again, comparing the temperature of places on 
 the Pacific with European, we discover that San 
 
r 
 
 CLIMATE OF THE PACIFIC COAST. 477 
 
 Francisco has the annual temperature of Bordeaux 
 and of Constantinople, but with much more uni¬ 
 formity 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 Bor¬ 
 deaux, 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 rain-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 
 
47S 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 the Lake Superior region and the frozen coast of 
 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, plains 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 depres¬ 
 sions 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 ; he will wonder aud look 
 about him to discover the causes of such physical 
 
-Ml— - - - ■ ■■■ - . , - —--- ' ^ 
 
 I-- ~ 
 
 CLIMAXK OF THE FACIFIC COAST. 470 
 
 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 
 “turning in” on the sand or under a tree. Many 
 laboring men in the country still keep up this old 
 
 camping habit. 
 
 1 ... 
 
 While examining the phenomena of the peculiar 
 climates on the Pacific coast, we meet with this dif¬ 
 ficulty, (as wo have before intimated,) the want of a 
 thorough observation of the facts, a proper investi¬ 
 gation of the causes. The controlling cause is, with¬ 
 out 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 sum¬ 
 mer 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 fog which covers the coast and pours 
 in through the opening in the coast mountains aq 
 San Francisco, enveloping that city nightly. In 
 winter the water along the coast is about three de¬ 
 grees 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 agree¬ 
 able winter season along the coast country. 
 
480 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 In the summer months when the sun’s rays are 
 more vertical, the great plains and deserts of East¬ 
 ern 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, caus¬ 
 ing 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 verti¬ 
 cal, and the interior cooler, at the same time the 
 ocean (from some unexplained cause) being warmer, 
 the sea winds cease, and the coast is warmer in win¬ 
 ter 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 con¬ 
 densed, 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 in California and Wash¬ 
 ington, 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 
 
CLIMATE OF THE PACIFIC COAST 481 
 
 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 ex¬ 
 plained. 
 
 The Pacific ranges along the whole coast naturally 
 forir uterior climates peculiar to each location, dif¬ 
 ferent 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 hill¬ 
 sides, and the sea breeze is shut off, we find a tem¬ 
 perature that surprises us. As at Fort Yuma, where 
 the air is wholly frotn 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. Alb other oceans are feeble in their 
 importance, when compared with that remarkable 
 body of water which tempers and controls the inter¬ 
 esting (somewhat unexplainable) climate of the Pa¬ 
 cific coast—essentially its own, and has no exact cor¬ 
 respondence elsewhere in the ^vorld. 
 
 Many people in the older States, since the com¬ 
 pletion of the Continental Railway, are asking them¬ 
 selves the question, whither they can go to better 
 
482 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 their condition. To all such I would say, do not 
 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 ama¬ 
 zing natural resources, the wonderful richness and 
 beauty of its soil and climate, makes the greatest 
 treasure (to those who know how and are w 
 find it) we have in our o\yn territory. 
 
 I have mentioned before the South of California 
 and the sunny and fertile region of Los Angelos and 
 Santa Barbra. A combination of circumstances point 
 to this region as undoubtedly the most 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 or¬ 
 anges, 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 thau this, into 
 which the children of Israel were promised and led. 
 While traveling through those vast regions east of 
 
 illing to 
 

 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 betwoen 
 our Pacific coast and Syria ; indeed the country 
 seems an American Palestine, where everything is 
 peculiar and somewhat original. It seems another 
 country, separated by barriers—the ocean on one 
 
 side and mighty mountains on the other—from the 
 civilized w r orld. 
 
 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 Pacific. 
 
 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¬ 
 try has yet developed. 
 
 If you, kind reader, are still in good humor with 
 
 * 
 
 yourself, and on the level with me, after our long 
 journeyings, we will now'part on the square. 
 
 /