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 WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 BY 
 ELEANOR TAYLOR CHANDLER 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY 
 1914 
 

 Copyright, 1914, by 
 Eleanor Taylor Chandler 
 
 Published December, 1914 
 
 Press of 
 
 The John C. Winston Company 
 
 Philadelphia 
 
 DEC IB 1914 
 
 ©a.A38795G 
 too/ 
 
To 
 My Father 
 
 It is with love that I dedicate this 
 Httle book to the one who has 
 made everything possible for me, 
 giving me not only love but com- 
 panionship throughout my life. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 This little book is written in the 
 hope that those less fortunate, who 
 feel within themselves the tremendous 
 longing to know of God's wonderful 
 works of Nature but have never been 
 able to be near and see, may enjoy 
 the experiences I have had. 
 
 Everything is true; everything 
 was seen and felt by me, but no 
 descriptions written by man can ever 
 equal the tremendous work done by 
 Nature at the hands of God. 
 
 [7] 
 
PREFACE 
 
 I do not profess to write. My 
 one aim is to try to give my friends 
 a little pleasure, and possibly to con- 
 vey a little of the pleasure and 
 happiness I have had in my short 
 life. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. Ranching in Wyoming ... 13 
 
 II. Through the Yellow- 
 stone on Horseback ... 29 
 
 III. The Canadian Rockies 
 
 and Alaska 45 
 
 IV. California and the Grand 
 
 Canyon 63 
 
 L'Envoi 83 
 
 [9] 
 
RANCHING IN WYOMING 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 Ranching in Wyoming 
 
 T the age of eight- 
 een, when Hfe is 
 sweet and beautiful, 
 when a girl looks 
 through rose-col- 
 ored glasses and 
 sees naught but 
 beauty, I was told 
 that I was to spend the summer on 
 a ranch. Can anyone imagine the 
 feelings of joy I had on having such 
 news imparted to me on a bright 
 Spring morning! Having a longing 
 for the freedom of prairies, the feel 
 
 I3l 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 of a good horse, and to see the vast 
 expanse of country, I was lost in 
 joyful anticipation. 
 
 The little ranch was located out- 
 side of Sheridan, Wyoming, at the 
 foot-hills of the Big Horn mountains. 
 The train ride was rather uninter- 
 esting and very long and tiresome, 
 so when the conductor called "Sheri- 
 dan!" at the end of three days, we 
 were more than glad to step off the 
 train, for we were throbbing with 
 thoughts of the new experiences 
 ahead of us. 
 
 Sheridan is a typical Western town, 
 one long, wide, main street running 
 through it, shops on both sides filled 
 with inviting Indian baskets, Navajo 
 
 [14] 
 
IN WYOMING 
 
 blankets and pottery made by the 
 Red Men. Perhaps next door will 
 be a shop where tobacco, riding ap- 
 parel, saddles and bridles are sold. 
 A few doors below will be what is 
 commonly termed a saloon, with a 
 half dozen or more cowboys loitering 
 lazily outside, most picturesque in 
 their cowboy hats, spurs and chaps. 
 We had a ride of eighteen miles from 
 the village to the ranch. I can now 
 remember my first view of the 
 prairies! Dear reader, unless you 
 have seen and known that vast 
 expanse of country, I am afraid you 
 will not be able to feel with me that 
 sense of smallness and loneliness 
 all in one that I experienced with my 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 first view. The sun had just set, 
 leaving an after-glow of many soft 
 colors fading one into another, and 
 peeping over the horizon the full 
 moon was slowly rising, giving to that 
 world a radiance such as she gives 
 nowhere else. It was truly beauti- 
 ful, and as we dashed along driven 
 by a cowboy in a coach drawn by six 
 western horses, hearing no sounds 
 but the soft pounding of their unshod 
 hoofs, and an occasional crack of the 
 long lash, I surely thought it was all 
 a dream. 
 
 But fortunately I soon woke to 
 realization, for as the coach swung 
 around the corner and the driver 
 threw the reins to a waiting cowboy, 
 
 fi6] 
 
IN WYOMING 
 
 we heard for the first time in hours 
 the sound of human voices. The 
 arrival of the coach means a great 
 deal, so midst many cheers the 
 people of the ranch with one rush 
 were there to greet us. 
 
 The ranch house was small and of 
 frame structure, very important look- 
 ing for a ranch and more common- 
 place than I in my prism-colored 
 glasses had imagined it. A quarter 
 of a mile from the house were rows of 
 tiny log cabins where the men slept, 
 while near the house were huge tents 
 arranged as living quarters for the 
 women. In view of the house were 
 the corrals where the horses were 
 brought in each evening from the 
 
 17 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 prairies, to be fed, watered and 
 saddled. Surrounding the corrals 
 were the outhouses. 
 
 The country itself was not flat and 
 uninteresting, but exceedingly roll- 
 ing, for we were in what is termed 
 the land of buUes. 
 
 Never shall I forget my first 
 dinner there, or what the Westerners 
 termed supper, for we had dinner in 
 the middle of the day, as I after- 
 wards learned. Being only eighteen, 
 as I have already said, I had the 
 vanity of any other girl of that age, 
 and decided to look my very prettiest 
 that first night on the ranch, so out 
 of my trunk came — as I thought — 
 my most becoming little red silk 
 
IN WYOMING 
 
 frock. With all the assurance in the 
 world, and all the pomp, glory and 
 dignity that my five feet two gave 
 me, I walked in to the dining-room. 
 After a moment of absolute silence, 
 one cowboy jumped up from his 
 chair crying: ** Three cheers for the 
 dresser." In one second it seemed 
 to me that no Roman conqueror ever 
 heard more noise or demonstration 
 on his victorious return from the wars 
 than this poor little frightened girl 
 on her entrance into a dining-room 
 in a little red dress. Such a lesson 
 it was, too! For ever after a flannel 
 shirt, khaki skirt and leggins were 
 worn, and the vanity as well as the 
 red dress had to be locked away. 
 
 [19] 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 My life there for the first month 
 was spent largely in riding over the 
 prairies. I never grew tired of the 
 easy motion of my horse, but if I 
 felt more in the humor for life I had 
 a horse saddled that fairly flew. 
 
 Each night we would ride six 
 miles for the mail, returning home 
 in either the starlight or moonlight; 
 and how wonderful it was, too, to 
 feel the soft breezes blowing gently 
 against one's face, to feel the easy 
 motion of a good horse, and to look 
 up and see millions of stars staring 
 down — no sign of life — nothing but 
 endless miles of undulating country. 
 And as one brings his horse to a 
 standstill at the top of a small hill or 
 
 [20] 
 
IN WYOMING 
 
 butte, a feeling comes slowly stealing 
 over — a feeling of goodness, of big- 
 ness, of contentment, and a feeling 
 of absolute trust in something more 
 powerful than ourselves. I have 
 had that feeling many, many times 
 while riding along in the moonlight, 
 for the solitude and beauty of the 
 night bring us nearer to better and 
 higher things. 
 
 One interesting experience was on 
 the Fourth of July when a party of 
 us had our horses saddled and rode 
 fourteen miles to a little village where 
 they were to celebrate the Fourth ot 
 July with riding competitions and 
 races. I remember the little village 
 so welL for it boasted of two hundred 
 
 l2i] 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 people and could hardly be called a 
 village, it was so small. We were 
 the only Easterners there; cowboys 
 with their families and some without 
 them had ridden miles and miles, and 
 such an interesting picture they made, 
 too, and how they could ride! In the 
 competition the man who could stay 
 on a bucking horse the longest won 
 fifty dollars. It was a fight between 
 man and beast for supremacy. Each 
 showed superb stubbornness and 
 strength, and each only gave in to the 
 other when that will had been con- 
 quered. 
 
 We were looked over so many times 
 and labelled ''tenderfoot" by so 
 many cowboys in their superior way. 
 
IN WYOMING 
 
 that I felt that we had afforded them 
 considerable amusement. 
 
 A circus in the West is very inter- 
 esting, too, for the poor souls seldom 
 ever see human beings outside of 
 their own families, so when a circus 
 arrives in a place like Sheridan, 
 families start days ahead and drive 
 miles and miles, never tiring as long as 
 they have the thought of excitement, 
 fellowship and diversion in mind. 
 
 One day a party of eight of us 
 started for a sixty-mile ride into the 
 foot-hills of the Big Horn mountains. 
 We left very early in the morning, 
 just after the sun had risen, and 
 jogged along easily, stopping at the 
 different ranches to rest and for 
 
 [23] 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 refreshments. As we started up the 
 winding mountain I can see even now, 
 after nine years, the wonderful pano- 
 ramic view of the country for sixty 
 miles around. The light of the 
 prairies and sunset mingling together 
 made a peculiar softness, such as I 
 had never seen before nor since. 
 We spent the night in a tiny log 
 cabin nestled in the mountains, and 
 how good the grouse tasted, and 
 what a wild feeling there was, for we 
 heard the cry of the distant coyotes, 
 and an occasional growl of a hungry 
 bear, making us glad that we were 
 under the shelter of a roof, frail as 
 it was. Our ride back the next day 
 was rather interesting, as on the way 
 
 [24] 
 
IN WYOMING 
 
 we saw a polo game between cow- 
 boys. It was hard to follow the 
 riders, for they all looked alike in 
 their chaps, and their horses dashed 
 by with such rapidity that the men 
 were lost to our eyes in the mass of 
 players, horses and mallets. 
 
 With thirty miles still ahead of us, 
 much to our regret we left the 
 polo game and turned our horses 
 towards home. And such a ride 
 as the last fifteen miles was! The 
 sun had set, and long ere we 
 reached the ranch our only guide was 
 the moon. In all her glory, she 
 bathed us in her rays of silver and 
 made the world a hushed, hallowed 
 place of beauty. 
 
 25 
 
THROUGH THE YELLOW- 
 STONE ON HORSEBACK 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 Through the Yellowstone on 
 Horseback 
 
 E have all of us 
 heard of Colonel 
 Cody, or *^ Buffalo 
 Bill," yet I feel 
 there are few who 
 know that out in 
 Wyoming there is 
 a little village 
 called Cody, from which leads a 
 wonderful trail of ninety-three miles 
 to the entrance of the Yellowstone 
 Park, founded and named by Colonel 
 Cody. It is a trail of wondrous 
 
 29 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 beauty, of wildness and of untiring 
 interest to those who are fortunate 
 enough to have traveled over it and 
 to have been received into the arms 
 of Nature. For there Nature reigns 
 supreme ! 
 
 Our outfit consisted of cowboys, 
 six-horse wagons carrying our tarps 
 or sleeping-bags, several wagons 
 filled with cooking utensils and food, 
 and twenty wildly enthusiastic peo- 
 ple waiting impatiently for new ex- 
 periences to begin. 
 
 After much delay the outfit finally 
 started. I can see now how slowly 
 the train of horses and people crept, 
 how the village began to fade, how 
 the country began to become more 
 
 [30] 
 
THE YELLOWSTONE 
 
 mountainous and wild, and how at 
 last we found ourselves lost to all 
 things but those made by God. 
 
 I remember so well our camp that 
 first night. We halted beside a 
 little stream. The horses were soon 
 unsaddled, the cooking utensils un- 
 packed, the fire began flaming and 
 soon the delicious odor of food came 
 to us. To anyone after a forty- 
 mile ride nothing could be more 
 welcome, nothing could make one 
 forget the aches and pains more 
 quickly than the sight of a huge fire, 
 the delicate perfume of the burning 
 wood and the actual sight of food. 
 I am sure no one has forgotten that 
 first meal, and how good it tasted. 
 
 I31I 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 Supper being over, now we could 
 find heart to fully appreciate the 
 wonderful novelty of our new life. 
 The big fire was still burning brightly, 
 the stars had come out one by one, 
 and '*Day, like a weary pilgrim, had 
 reached the western gate of Heaven, 
 and Evening stooped down to un- 
 loose the latchets of his sandal 
 shoon." Evening brings quiet and 
 repose. As its shadows fall, birds 
 and animals seek their shelter, and 
 even inanimate Nature seems to 
 compose itself to rest. And so we 
 rested! Mother Earth received our 
 tired bodies, and with the mountain 
 standing guard, the little stream 
 drowsily flowing by, and the soft air 
 
THE YELLOWSTONE 
 
 murmuring a lullaby, we fell into 
 the land of dreams! 
 
 We awoke next morning much 
 refreshed with the night's rest in the 
 open air. The smell of fried eggs and 
 bacon was soon wafted on the air, and 
 even though the sun had barely- 
 reached our sheltered glade, we got 
 up eagerly, went to the running 
 stream, and after dashing ice-cold 
 water on our faces were ready for 
 whatever the day held. Breakfast 
 being over the horses were lassoed 
 and put in a temporary corral where 
 saddles and bridles would be adjusted. 
 Then with the breaking up of camp 
 the day's ride would commence. 
 On we rode through this strange, 
 
 33 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 wild mountain country. Ever fol- 
 lowing the Shoshone river, ever in 
 sight of snow-capped mountains, ever 
 finding with each turn of the trail 
 some new and wonderful works of 
 Nature. And so each day brought 
 its wonderments, and night brought 
 its rest and beauty, until we suddenly 
 found ourselves at the entrance of 
 the Yellowstone, but so wonderful 
 had been our ride that we were fully 
 prepared for all that the Park held 
 for us, if such a thing as being "pre- 
 pared" is possible. 
 
 Can I ever find words in my very 
 small vocabulary to picture in full 
 the Yellowstone Park! Can I ever 
 make you see the geysers that play 
 
 34 
 
THE YELLOWSTONE 
 
 so miraculously! Could I ever de- 
 scribe the wonderful colors of the 
 canyon! Could I produce the feel- 
 ings within you that must come to 
 each and everyone as they gaze on 
 the effervescent earth! I am afraid 
 not, for it is something beyond 
 human description and human un- 
 derstanding. 
 
 The name "Yellowstone" origi- 
 nated with the Indians, from the 
 yellow cliffs of the Grand Canyon, as 
 it was translated Roche Jaune (Yel- 
 low Rock) by early French traders. 
 The reservation is fifty-five miles 
 east and west by sixty-five miles 
 north and south, embracing nearly 
 three million acres. Thousands of 
 
 35 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 elk, deer, mountain sheep, antelope, 
 buffalo, bear and smaller animals, 
 and myriads of birds and water fowl 
 have the government protection. 
 There are also over two hundred 
 miles of trout streams, which give 
 much pleasure to the angler. 
 
 For two weeks we rode exploring 
 this wonderland of the world with 
 its beautifully colored pools, basins 
 and terraces, mountains of sulphur 
 and volcanic glass, stupendous water- 
 falls, and thousands of natural curi- 
 osities. 
 
 We would often stop by a running 
 stream and take a sulphur bath, 
 and what a queer sensation it was 
 to bathe in natural hot water coming 
 
 [36] 
 
THE YELLOWSTONE 
 
 from the bowels of the earth! The 
 geysers were perhaps the most inter- 
 esting, for who can really understand 
 why at a certain time a volume of 
 scalding water will be thrown at a 
 height of from 20 to 250 feet, at 
 intervals varying from one hour to 
 fourteen days! 
 
 The canyon! The mere name brings 
 to my mind a marvelous and bril- 
 liantly colored landscape where one 
 sits for hours watching its ever 
 changing colors without tiring. 
 
 And so we wandered on from day 
 to day in this fairyland, ever seeing 
 new and wonderful things, visiting 
 Old Faithful, Mammoth Springs, 
 HelFs Half Acre, Prismatic Lake, 
 
 37 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 and other geysers too numerous 
 to name. 
 
 One night when the whole camp 
 was sleeping, and the dying embers 
 of our fire were the only signs of life, 
 we were rudely awakened from our 
 slumbers by a man's loud call for 
 help. Instantly the camp changed 
 from quiet to uproar. Lanterns 
 were being flashed here and there, 
 each one was asking the other what 
 it all meant, and finally we found 
 that one of the men had been dragged 
 from his sleeping-bag by a huge 
 grizzly bear! The beast had been 
 attracted by the smell of our supper 
 and so had wandered in search of 
 food, finding a man to his liking in 
 
 [38] 
 
THE YELLOWSTONE 
 
 place of bacon. Fortunately the 
 cries of a human voice scared the 
 beast off, but not before he had left 
 his deadly tooth-marks in the shoul- 
 der of his victim. It may not be 
 necessary to add that sleep for the 
 rest of the night was abandoned, 
 especially by the woman, for who 
 knows a bear's powers of discrimi- 
 nation } 
 
 Never can those days of wandering 
 be erased from my mind, for I can 
 close my eyes and instantly they 
 will come floating to me, carrying 
 me back until I can feel my little 
 horse under me as we rode through 
 this wild country in rain, hail, snow 
 and finally bathed in sunshine and 
 
 [39] 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 warmth. Then will come the night, 
 with its glorious skies, its mysteri- 
 ous hours of solitude and wildness, its 
 camp-fire and the memory of each 
 face as the flames illuminated it 
 while we sat listening to the stories 
 of Indians, poachers and outlaws. 
 Little did we realize that we were 
 surrounded by men of a type who 
 years ago were among the worst of 
 the men who gambled, who killed, 
 and thought nothing of God's laws. 
 How often I hear that call of the 
 wild! How often I long to live 
 through those happy care-free days 
 again! And so out in that vast 
 West the life of freedom calls ; Nature 
 is holding out her arms to those who 
 
 [40] 
 
THE YELLOWSTONE 
 
 would be embraced; she will whisper 
 again her innermost secrets to those 
 who will respond. 
 
 Are those voices for me? Are 
 they calling me to live again those 
 dream days? 
 
 41 
 
THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 
 AND ALASKA 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 The Canadian Rockies and Alaska. 
 
 AN anyone imagine 
 any two more allur- 
 ing names? The 
 Rockies bring to 
 one's mind moun- 
 tains of insurmount- 
 able heights and 
 glaciers; Alaska, an 
 uncivilized country, snow moun- 
 tains and gold. These are the 
 things we had to look forward to; 
 these were the things we dreamed 
 about long ere we started our journey. 
 Our trip out was most interesting, 
 
 45] 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 as we went over the Great Lakes to 
 Duluth, and from there to St. Paul, 
 where the train for Banff was boarded. 
 
 After a day's ride on the Canadian 
 Pacific over endless miles of prairies, 
 through quaint little western villages, 
 stopping at " Moose Jaw" and " Med- 
 icine Hat," we arrived at Banff. 
 
 Europe has its Switzerland, famed 
 throughout the civilized world for 
 the splendor of its mountain scenery, 
 but to me the paradise of mountains 
 is in the Rockies in the western part 
 of Canada. 
 
 '* Climb the mountains and get 
 their good tidings. Nature's peace 
 will flow into you as sunshine into 
 trees. The winds will blow their 
 
 46 
 
CANADIAN ROCKIES 
 
 own freshness into you, and the 
 storms their energy, while cares will 
 drop off like autumn leaves." There 
 "Banff, the Beautiful," is situated. 
 Mountains that roll and stretch 
 away as far as the eye can reach in 
 all directions, try to hide the little 
 village from view. 
 
 From Banff we boarded the train 
 again for Laggon, or Lake Louise. 
 The beauty of this lake no words can 
 describe, for it is certainly a master- 
 piece among Nature's works. At 
 every hour of the day, with every 
 sunset, with each night the colors 
 ever change. At the end of the lake 
 slants a huge glacier, which is fed 
 by perpetual snows. Surrounding 
 
 [47] 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 the little lake are mountain peaks of 
 snow at the height of ten to twelve 
 thousand feet. To add to the pic- 
 ture a lovely chateau stands at the 
 end. We were so interested in the 
 servants there, as they were all 
 Japanese and three times a day they 
 would change their costume of lovely 
 blue silk to perhaps pink or laven- 
 der. Truly it was a place of beauty 
 and color, and truly the author 
 spoke in this little verse: 
 
 "Lakes of gray at dawn of day, 
 In soft shadows lying; 
 Lakes of gold with gems untold 
 On thy bosom glowing. 
 Lakes of white, 
 At holy night 
 Glowing in the moonlight.'* 
 
 [48] 
 
CANADIAN ROCKIES 
 
 Leaving Lake Louise much to our 
 regret we once again boarded the 
 train for Glacier. Never have I seen 
 such wonderful scenery as that we 
 passed through. Caverns, moun- 
 tains, streams, wildness of every 
 description, surrounded us. For miles 
 we ran along the famous Kicking 
 Horse River, and as we passed the 
 Great Divide a feeling of not being 
 able to grasp all that this wildness 
 meant seemed to creep through our 
 very souls. 
 
 Glacier is so shut in on all sides 
 by tremendous mountains that one 
 feels as though nothing exists the 
 other side of them. As one alights 
 from the train instantly a feel- 
 
 49 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 ing of rest and peace creeps over 
 one. The trees, the streams, 
 and even the mountains speak 
 "rest." 
 
 The glacier is gigantic, and how the 
 sun shining on this huge piece of ice 
 makes hundreds of ghstening colors! 
 How at night the moon and stars 
 look down and see their faces in the 
 glassy surface. 
 
 Our ride by train from Glacier to 
 Victoria was one of continuous 
 beauty. At Ducks we looked out of 
 the window of our compartment, and 
 there standing guard was a sentinel 
 with a double-barreled shotgun. 
 The train ahead of ours had been 
 robbed, and several people killed, 
 
 [50] 
 
CANADIAN ROCKIES 
 
 so one can imagine our feelings the 
 rest of the night. 
 
 From Victoria we took a boat to 
 Vancouver across Puget Sound. Was 
 I in a responsive mood; was it Mt. 
 Hood, the indomitable snow-clad 
 peak on which the sun sought to 
 reflect his golden splendor, or could 
 it be possible that each day as the 
 sun set such colors were visible? 
 Whatever it may have been, moun- 
 tain, air or sun, I have never for- 
 gotten how lovely the whole picture 
 was. And here at Vancouver we 
 boarded the ''Spokane,'' which was 
 to take us into the land of mystery, 
 of unrelenting Nature and of golden 
 Alaska. 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 As I stood and realized for the 
 first time that I was in Alaska, two 
 verses of "The Land God Forgot" 
 came to my mind : 
 
 "The lovely sunsets flame and die, 
 The giant valleys gulp the night, 
 The monster mountains scrape the sky, 
 Where diamond stars are diamond bright. 
 
 So gaunt against the gibbous moon, 
 Piercing the silence velvet piled, 
 A lone wolf howls his ancient rune — 
 The fell arch-spirit of the wild." 
 
 And lonely it truly was, but wonder- 
 ful. 
 
 Alaska with her splendid invigo- 
 rating climate; Alaska with her 
 magnificent distances, her towering 
 
 52 
 
CANADIAN ROCKIES 
 
 snow-capped mountains, her majes- 
 tic rivers, her fields of gold, her 
 fisheries; Alaska, in the shadow of 
 the midnight sun, with her glaciers 
 and icebergs, held us spellbound! 
 
 The first stop of the cruise was 
 Metlakatla, the village of Indians. 
 There this little colony has been 
 taught, has become civilized and 
 been made a partner of the white 
 men. Kasaan was a deserted village 
 where nothing but totem poles stood, 
 and interesting they were too, for 
 they are the Indian family trees. So 
 picturesque are the villages in this 
 country of the North, for there all is 
 quiet and peaceful, as there are no 
 sounds of trains, trams, horses or 
 
 l53] 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 motors which fall discordant on our 
 ears. Here the village is nestled at 
 the foot of towering mountains which 
 gradually slope down to the water's 
 edge. There the air is always fresh, 
 no smoke from factories, no asphalt 
 pavements, nothing to mar the 
 beauty of the quaint little village. 
 
 The houses are of low wooden 
 structure and practically open on to 
 the one boarded street of which the 
 inhabitants brag. The shops add an 
 uncivilized atmosphere too, for here 
 can be bought nothing but the 
 roughest materials, miners' outfits, 
 and fishing-tackle too varied to name. 
 
 Often we would see the owner sit- 
 ting outside on a wooden box whit- 
 
 54 
 
CANADIAN ROCKIES 
 
 tling, or perhaps playing with a 
 httle cub which had been brought 
 down from the mountain, while wait- 
 ing for trade. 
 
 And to add to the picturesque 
 beauty one can see numerous fishing- 
 smacks lying at anchor or under full 
 sail slowly creep out to sea where they 
 find more fish than our imagination 
 is capable of grasping. 
 
 Two weeks we spent in visiting 
 these strange, unthought-of villages, 
 stopping at Skagway, Sitka and Ju- 
 neau, the capital. Each little village 
 is striving to be more civilized ; each 
 shows slow progress, and each is a 
 busy little world in itself that must 
 be respected. Douglas is the loca- 
 
 155] 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 tion of the famous Treadwell Mines 
 and was more than interesting. 
 We also visited many fisheries and 
 canneries, for which Alaska is famous. 
 One morning, while cruising from, 
 one village to another, I put my head 
 out of my port-hole and found we 
 were surrounded on all sides by 
 icebergs, but as they were the first 
 I had ever seen, I was lost in admira- 
 tion and wonder, consequently never 
 realized the real danger until later; 
 but having a good captain no harm 
 befell us. When our steamer would 
 stop for coal, we would go up in the 
 mountain streams for trout. That 
 is the wonderful country for fish — 
 the streams were alive with them. 
 
 56 
 
CANADIAN ROCKIES 
 
 and often we would catch a salmon 
 too. 
 
 One of the most interesting trips 
 was the ride up the famous "White 
 Pass," or entrance to the Klondike, 
 where had streamed an army of men 
 seeking gold. What tales of horror, 
 of suffering, and at the same time 
 of joy, could that Pass tell! It was 
 a ride on a strange little railroad 
 through the clouds until the summit 
 of the mountain was reached. How 
 beautiful, how uncivilized it all was! 
 
 The next day we saw Muir Glacier 
 for the first time. This gigantic 
 mass of blue ice with its dangerous 
 crevasses, which has taken human 
 life so relentlessly, extends over one- 
 Is?] 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 hundred and fifty square miles. We 
 walked for several miles over this 
 moving ice, and terrible but fascinat- 
 ing it was, too. The guide showed 
 us many places where men had met 
 death by falling through the parted 
 ice and had been helpless at the 
 hands of Nature, the all-powerful. 
 There had been many walks we had 
 all enjoyed much more, I am sure, and 
 I know we were all glad to step off 
 this glacier in safety. 
 
 For centuries this glacier has been 
 steadily rolling, steadily gathering 
 the melting ice and snow from season 
 to season, never ceasing. 
 
 And so after many days spent in 
 this country of wildness and beauty 
 
 [58] 
 
CANADIAN ROCKIES 
 
 where one feels the freshness of day, 
 sees the long shadows linger well 
 into night, and at last night gradually 
 fall upon us, we turned toward Van- 
 couver. How unhappy we all were 
 to leave Alaska, for had she not 
 given us the beauty of her sunsets, 
 had she not thrilled us with her 
 stupendous beauties, had she not 
 given us nights when the heavens 
 seemed to be on fire with their 
 radiance! 
 
 We felt she had only told us a few 
 of her wonderful secrets, and so 
 many were still waiting to be told. 
 
 Few of us ever think of that coun- 
 try so far away; but theie, with its 
 thousands of islands, its beautiful 
 
 59 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 bays, its calm inland seas, its bears 
 and other wild animals, its gold 
 fields and its people, exists a country 
 of the far North full of romantic 
 legends and full of wildness and of 
 life. 
 
 60 
 
CALIFORNIA AND THE 
 GRAND CANYON 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 California and the Grand 
 Canyon 
 
 FTER days spent in 
 the cold unrespon- 
 sive beauty of Alaska, 
 can you imagine how 
 our souls reached out 
 and drank in the 
 warm golden sunshine 
 of California, the land of sunshine, 
 of flowers and of love ! One imagines 
 that sadness never could live in this 
 country. There happiness must 
 surely be, for the name California 
 is magical. There the moon is 
 
 ^hdlA^Lj 
 
 63 1 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 brighter, the stars are more numer- 
 ous, and the soft smell of orange 
 blossoms comes faintly to us. With 
 every breath we felt as though we 
 were breathing in romance. Uncon- 
 sciously pictures of adventure, of red 
 roses, and of beautiful faces would 
 float before our eyes as we sat listen- 
 ing to the faint tinkle of guitars and 
 the soft voices singing, '*0 Sole Mio." 
 San Francisco and Los Angeles 
 were very much like eastern cities, 
 but Santa Barbara was lovely, for 
 there we were on the broad, blue 
 Pacific ocean. Each afternoon we 
 would ride through avenues of beau- 
 tiful palm, cypress and pepper trees 
 and others too numerous to name. 
 
 64] 
 
CALIFORNIA 
 
 There flowers grow in profusion 
 too, for each Httle face of flowerland 
 seems to be prettier and of more 
 dehcate shading than its neighbor. 
 
 At Del Monte we took the famous 
 seventeen-mile ride. For some 
 strange reason the Pacific ocean 
 seems bluer and more beautiful than 
 the Atlantic. On this ride we felt 
 it more. Perhaps it was the rugged 
 beauty of the coast, perhaps it was 
 the dazzling sunshine, or perhaps it 
 was the wonderful coloring of land 
 and sea that was there harmon- 
 ized. 
 
 Rugged the coast was, and strange 
 it was to see seals lying or crawling 
 over the rocks. They are becoming 
 
 5 165 ] 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 more nearly extinct each year owing 
 to blasting farther up the coast. 
 
 Pasadena is a dream place in it- 
 self, for it is at the foot of Mt. Lowe 
 in the Sierra Madre mountains, and 
 has a view in every direction of 
 unequaled beauty. The soft balmy 
 air at any time of year is of course 
 one of the greatest features. 
 
 One afternoon we took a trip up 
 Mt. Lowe. After a ride up of three 
 thousand feet in a funicular, we 
 thought it would be impossible to 
 see anything more wonderful, but 
 after our climb we took an electric 
 car which took us for five miles over 
 twenty-five bridges, each giving us a 
 dizzy sight of the earth beneath, and 
 
 [66J 
 
CALIFORNIA 
 
 around one hundred and twenty 
 dangerous curves, which made us 
 quiver from fright. Should there be 
 one shp of anything, the car would 
 drop thousands of feet into eter- 
 nity. 
 
 It is truly a remarkable piece of 
 engineering. And this little car with 
 each turn gave us a view of the 
 wildest, most uncivilized of moun- 
 tains. 
 
 We saw the sun set as we came 
 down from our dizzy height, and the 
 full moon rose from behind the 
 mountain. The whole picture was 
 one of glory and one never to be 
 forgotten. 
 
 Two hours from Los Angeles spent 
 
 67] 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 in a small steamer brought us to 
 Santa Catalina Island. This is an 
 island of wondrous beauty, com- 
 posed of mountain ranges, peaks, 
 deep canyons and level stretches of 
 lowlands. 
 
 It was supposed to have been dis- 
 covered in 1542, and of course popu- 
 lated by Indians. 
 
 There we take a glass-bottomed 
 boat and look down into a depth of 
 a hundred feet. What a strange 
 but busy world do we see! There 
 are fish of all kinds swimming 
 around and marvelous gardens of 
 water life. If one cares for fishing 
 at Santa Catalina Island in the 
 Pacific ocean, a larger and greater 
 
 [68] 
 
CALIFORNIA 
 
 variety can be caught than in any 
 other place in the world. 
 
 We took the train for Riverside 
 at Los Angeles, and after a three- 
 hour ride arrived at a most fascinat- 
 ing little city, for here the avenues 
 are of cypress and palm trees; flow- 
 ers are everywhere and one forgets 
 that any kind of a material life is 
 lived. 
 
 The hotel where we stayed was 
 once an old monastery. Each eve- 
 ning at sunset the bells would ring 
 for prayers as they did when monks 
 lived in the mission house. 
 
 We visited a large ostrich farm, 
 which was interesting, and on our 
 way we passed through many orange 
 
 [691 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 and grape-fruit groves. How fra- 
 grant the blossoms were, too! 
 
 California is a country having 
 natural beauty, romance and pro- 
 gressiveness at the same time that no 
 other country has. Few have ever 
 been there who have not loved it, 
 and few have not felt the life, fra- 
 grance and beauty of it all. 
 
 From Riverside we took the Cali- 
 fornia Limited for the Gand Canyon 
 of Arizona. We look over these 
 endless miles of prairies as the train 
 travels swiftly through this waste and 
 wonder if this vastness and solitude 
 ever ceases. Is there any wonder 
 that people go mad for want of 
 companionship, for out there the 
 
 70 
 
CALIFORNIA 
 
 prairies give nothing. They take 
 the life and soul out of the poor 
 human beings who must live there, 
 and it is no wonder that the asylums 
 are filled with men and women unable 
 to stand burning sands and a life 
 of solitude. 
 
 We see many Indians as we pass 
 through Needles and other villages. 
 They come up to the car window and 
 try to sell their pottery, blankets and 
 baskets. And I must say that the 
 Indian woman who had her little 
 papoose tied to her back was very 
 apt to sell a blanket so that the 
 purchaser might have a chance to 
 admire the little Indian baby. 
 
 After this long and hot train ride 
 
 71 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 we arrived at the Grand Canyon. 
 Why should I try to tell you my 
 feelings when I gazed at the canyon 
 for the first time? Why should 
 I attempt to describe to you the 
 marvelous beauty of it when others 
 have failed ? How could one possibly 
 find words enough to make anyone 
 see or feel this greatest work of 
 Nature, or of God ! For nowhere in 
 this world does a canyon exist with 
 such colors, such size and such won- 
 derments! There is but one Grand 
 Canyon ! 
 
 We rode little burros down six 
 thousand feet to the Colorado River, 
 and as my little beast took the first 
 turn of our dizzy, narrow trail I 
 
CALIFORNIA 
 
 thought the heart had gone from my 
 body so frightened was I. When my 
 equihbrium had been restored and I 
 reahzed that I was still alive instead 
 of lying dead thousands of feet 
 below, I tried to grasp the scene 
 around me. Not the most fervid 
 pictures of a poet's fancy could 
 transcend the glories revealed in the 
 depths of the canyon ! Inky shadows 
 and the golden splendors of the sun 
 beating against the red and yellow 
 sides of the canyon but half make 
 the marvelous vision complete. On 
 down, down we rode over the" Bright 
 Angels'' trail, over the *' Corkscrew," 
 where we had to dismount owing 
 to the narrow and steep trail, until 
 
 73 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 the Colorado River was reached. 
 Such pigmies we were, of such Httle 
 consequence here in this chaotic 
 under-world, a boding, terrible thing 
 and yet never a flower more exqui- 
 sitely beautiful. As we rode up the 
 trail we felt as though we were in a 
 dream, for the sun was low in the 
 west, the canyon was enveloped 
 in a rosy-tinted hue shading to a 
 mysterious purple shadow, and the 
 moon lent her silver rays, making 
 a soft radiance of indescribable 
 beauty. 
 
 No one can see the Grand Canyon 
 in one view, for months and months 
 could be spent exploring this gigantic 
 work, and even then powerless we 
 
 [74] 
 
CALIFORNIA 
 
 would be to shake off the charm of 
 this "Titan of chasms." 
 
 Colorado Springs, Pike's Peak and 
 the Garden of the Gods were still 
 left for us to see, but with the spell 
 of the canyon still enveloping us it 
 was with little enthusiasm that we 
 boarded the train. Twenty-four 
 hours more of prairies, sand dunes, 
 cacti and wilderness through Arizona 
 brought us finally to Colorado 
 Springs. 
 
 On stepping off the train naturally 
 the first question is which is Pike's 
 Peak.^ For here we were surrounded 
 on all sides by snow-capped moun- 
 tains, but when it has been pointed 
 out to us once, it is never forgotten. 
 
 75 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 We take the cog-wheel road at 
 Manitou for our ride above the 
 clouds — up Pike's Peak. For ninety 
 minutes the little engine chugs up 
 and up through little glens that soon 
 emerge into canyons, verdured hills 
 that soon disappear and leave the 
 big bleak peak a towering monument. 
 Vistas open everywhere. The air 
 grows chilly, windows must be shut 
 down and wraps are quickly sought. 
 As we step out of the car what a sight 
 greets our eyes ! What magnificence, 
 what immensity sweeping in all di- 
 rections! The world is now before 
 us! Spread out is a mighty pano- 
 rama. Eighty miles away Denver 
 can be recognized. Cripple Creek, 
 
 [76] 
 
CALIFORNIA 
 
 Goldfield and many other mining 
 districts can be seen, while protruding 
 their ghstening crests above the 
 clouds, spreading out their sheets 
 of perpetual snow can be seen many 
 mountain peaks. It was a sight 
 never to be forgotten! 
 
 Pike's Peak is often termed *'The 
 Monument of the Continent." No 
 term could be more fitting, for 
 serene and bold it has stood through- 
 out the cycles of time; and still it 
 stands, giving to those who seek, a 
 joy seldom -experienced in one's life. 
 
 Fascinating, untiring of interest 
 and beauty, are the drives from 
 Colorado Springs, especially through 
 the *' Garden of the Gods,'' for here 
 
 77 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 stand rock formations of every kind, 
 here the imagination plays, here 
 one seeks to fathom the secrets of 
 the "silent." 
 
 Helen Hunt Jackson, the famous 
 writer of California romances, is 
 buried in a beautiful spot outside of 
 Manitou. She was only one of 
 thousands who knew, felt and under- 
 stood the natural beauty, the clear 
 invigorating air, and the fascination 
 of loving the West. 
 
 And now at Colorado Springs we 
 realized our days of travel were over. 
 We realized that the realities of all 
 we had seen were to become memor- 
 ies — for we came east by way of 
 Chicago. 
 
 [78] 
 
CALIFORNIA 
 
 After these years that have passed, 
 the scenes, experiences, sunsets, 
 moonhght nights and wonderments 
 of all that vast West still live with 
 me. I can see and feel it all now as 
 I did then, and I know throughout 
 the years to come nothing will 
 change. A strange influence the 
 West casts over me, one that can not 
 be shaken. I know those who have 
 been where I have, have experienced 
 the same feeling of thanksgiving to 
 God for making this world of ours 
 such a place of beauty. 
 
 1 79 
 
L'ENVOI 
 
L'ENVOI 
 
 HERE is Alaska with 
 her snow-capped 
 mountains; the Can- 
 adian Rockies that 
 speak wonderment in 
 themselves, and Cal- 
 ^ ifornia the land of 
 
 perpetual sunshine, and the whole 
 vast West that gives to us all that 
 we are able to grasp, and yet not 
 far from here is a tiny island in the 
 Susquehanna River which gives to 
 the heart more actual joy. There 
 are no snow-capped mountains, there 
 are no glaciers, there the sun does 
 not always shine, but Love's Island 
 
 83 1 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 and the free life that is there Hved 
 makes us feel and know that over- 
 powering Nature is not needed. There 
 softness of beauty reigns, and looking 
 towards the west at sunset it seems 
 that the hills are bathed in golden 
 splendor, and that the earth must 
 surely be on fire, so magnificently 
 does the sun sink to rest. 
 
 There life drifts by as the river 
 flows, and a life of freedom is lived 
 far from artificialities. We are wa- 
 kened each morning by the many 
 different song birds; we peep out of 
 our tents and see the sun shining 
 brightly on the river, and we feel very 
 glad to be alive and to be so close 
 to Nature. 
 
 [84] 
 
UENVOI 
 
 We know we have a good day's 
 fishing before us, so breakfast is soon 
 over and we step into our flat-bot- 
 tomed boats with the assurance of 
 success and superstition of all true 
 fishermen. We soon start slowly 
 away, being poled by a picturesque 
 looking "pusher'' standing in the 
 stern. The whole picture reminds 
 one of Venice and the gondola, 
 except these men must be even more 
 expert than the gondolier, for the 
 river is full of rocks that seem to hide 
 their noses from us, and unless the 
 ** pusher" is careful he will very 
 unexpectedly take a most undigni- 
 fied fall into the river. 
 
 Finding a current which promises 
 
 85I 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 bass, our line is baited with a little 
 catfish who demonstrates his dislike 
 for a hook, and wiggling with all his 
 might is thrown overboard as a 
 dainty morsel for Mr. Bass. Then 
 comes the real pleasure and excite- 
 ment when the reel goes hurr, burr 
 and we feel the bass strike. To a 
 fisherman is there a song sweeter than 
 the song of the reel! Is there any- 
 thing more exciting than playing a 
 bass and finally after a good fight 
 landing your prize! What does the 
 fisherman care if his hopes and 
 aspirations fall a few pounds short 
 in reality compared to his imagina- 
 tion after the first strike! To the 
 really good fisherman hours of wait- 
 
 [86] 
 
UENVOI 
 
 ing mean nothing, for even one catch 
 is enough to compensate. 
 
 "A three-pound pull, and a five-pound bite, 
 An eight-pound jump, and a ten-pound fight, 
 A twelve-pound bend to your pole — but, 
 
 alas ! 
 When you get him aboard he's a half-pound 
 
 bass.'' 
 
 The bass in the Susquehanna River 
 are even more gamey than elsewhere, 
 owing to the rocky bottom, for there 
 the fish play hide-and-seek with the 
 bait among the rocks. 
 
 We return to our little island with 
 a string of fine bass, varying from 
 one-half to three pounds, and of 
 course with stories of ''the might 
 
 87] 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 have beens" and the '*fish that 
 weighed many pounds" that got 
 away. 
 
 One day when we had been out 
 since daybreak, and the fish had 
 refused to bite for some strange 
 reason, leaving us very downcast at 
 the thought of going empty handed, 
 we had a very strange experience. 
 We had just pulled up anchor and 
 had gone but a short distance, 
 heading for our island, when with 
 one leap a bass weighing three 
 pounds jumped in our boat. This 
 story has been listened to many times 
 with patience by a good listener 
 and a fellow sympathizer, but I am 
 afraid seldom believed; but as I 
 
 [88] 
 
UENVOI 
 
 was there and was sufficiently scared 
 by the sudden appearance of the 
 fish, I know it to be true. 
 
 That night the bass are cooked 
 for dinner, and how dehcious they 
 taste, for after a day spent on the 
 water our appetite seems to grow. 
 Then afterwards, if the moon is shin- 
 ing, we are poled up the river and 
 float down with the tide. 
 
 What beauty and what rest do 
 those nights bring! No sound but 
 the farewell notes of a bird, an 
 occasional croak of a frog, and the 
 lapping of the water against our 
 boat. What softness in the air, and 
 how brilliant the stars! What a 
 delightful and lazy life to lead as 
 
 [89] 
 
WESTERN MEMORIES 
 
 over everything is drawn a veil of 
 beauty, and we sink into a reverie 
 of delight: 
 
 ''The river forever flows singing along, 
 The rose on its bank stoops down to its 
 
 song, 
 The flower as it listens unconsciously dips 
 Till rising wave glistens and kisses its lips, 
 But why the wave rises and kisses the rose, 
 And why the rose stoops for those kisses, 
 
 who knows, 
 For away flows the river, but whither, who 
 
 knows — who knows." 
 
 And so with each visit to Love's 
 Island the same feeling of good 
 sportmanship, rest and congeniality 
 comes. This place of fairy beauty 
 never grows tiresome, and those who 
 
 [90] 
 
UENVOI 
 
 have been fortunate enough to have 
 known it can always look back with 
 naught but happiness and longing, 
 for real life and the joy of living 
 never die on ** Love's Island/' 
 
 [91 1 
 
M^ 107 B9 
 
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 L /.•J^.*<='o .**\.::^',\. /.•i^^'^°o 
 
 
 
 

 
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 <^^ 
 
 
 
 
 ECKMAN 
 
 ^DERY INC. 
 
 ^ NOV 89 
 
 ^^ N. MANCHESTER, 
 S^ INDIANA 46962