picfUResQO e ^lksk^ WOODAKI/ • SCENIC ROUTE TO MT. MC KINLEY NATIONAL PARK AND INTERIOR ALASKA / The Midnight Sun J-u 'Vb JLa/) "Ben-My-Chree" Fort Hamlin, one of the stopping places, has its am- otion with the gold rush for here at that time freight the bst steamer from the mouth of the Yukon was iloaded and held for the winter, as these steamers could n, W son h^forPtheriyer froze. In the spring, mat tim( The thrc Tl buil It is seen take the thoi Caribou in Yukon River, Photographed from Dawson Steamer mportant town of the niddle Yukon, gives )pportunity for a de- ightful stroll past neat og houses with flow- rs indoors and out. mmm. View from Atlin Inn, Showing^ /-35>> ■^l Is m m ^^ v m m An Alaska Totem *t»- The Encircl bridge, whatever one may wish in the way of prese Imusements. Yet from its windows you see one Jnost glorious scenic spectacles, this old world t Ind from its doors you step into an enchanting pr little town. The streets of the village are wic grassy, in reality winding roads powdered witl powers, among them being bluebells exquisite ii lizure shade, and wild roses with pink buds thai \ ravishing color scheme, the biggest and pinkesi found the world over, said Burbank, lupines, and - 1 — T n lii-t-lp chnns and homes hang pricele: THE ROUTE TO ALASKA - - ...yuniain Scenerv PICTURESQUE ALASKA A JOURNAL OF A TOUR AMONG THE MOUNTAINS, SEAS AND ISLANDS OF THE NORTHWEST, FROM SAN FRANCISCO TO SITKA S ABBY JOHNSON WOODMAN ^jbTgy^Lg^ ^Ui^Ml|^ BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY <€fie fitocrsiDe Press, Cambridge 1S93 y 4> h -y C u^ o 2 >* JBmSaj 9qi q}iA\ uoi}D9uuod uj •z9preA uiojj SuqiBS , ttqmos q}iM 'pjBMgg }B p9}Braun aq asiMa^q Abui , u 9Ai}BUJ9:qB siqx 'P BOJ U B H B^SB^y 9qj, B ! A l SBOD | uo pjBMag 04 ujnrpj q;iM 's^uBqjiBjj 01 auiod }Bqi . j sgjiqouiomB Suisn 'zap^B^ }B j9uib9}s sqi SuiABgj apBui 9q osre ubd bjjsbiv joij9}ui o} du} aqx •pjBMag uiojj SuqiBs pjBA\q}nos qiiM BAopjoQ )3^Biimi aq abui 41 jo 'BAopjoQ uiojj Suqres pjbav 10s q^iM 'pjBMag }B pgrreraiui aq Abui ^jnoj, ipa TOx""* 3TIT '390000 T ~»T"»TOTT-r ->m »T A » A ^t-» t<-»/-^ >""" LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGB Map of Alaska Route . . Facing Title. Totem Poles in Indian Graves, Fort Wrangell . . . 139 Juneau 145 Floating Ick, Takou Inlet .... 149 Muir Gl\cier 157 Sitka 165 Note. The above illustrations are from photographs taken by W. H. Partridge, of Boston. PICTURESQUE ALASKA I. MOUNT SHASTA AND THE PASS OF SISKIYOU. April 5, 1888. We started from San Francisco at 3.30 p. m., and crossed the ferry to Oakland, where we joined a party of tourists going to Oregon. As we followed the shore of the beautiful Bay of San Fran- cisco, northward to San Pablo, and thence bending eastward toward Port Costa, we looked out over the brown water to the pretty islands, the boats, ships, and steam- ers, some incoming from Portland and other northern cities, and others outward bound for San Diego and intervening ports. We caught just a glimpse of the " Golden Gate," and saw the white walls of pretty villas and towns on the farther shore ; realizing in one comprehensive view some- 10 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. thing of the magnitude and exceptional beauty of that finest of all harbors on the Pacific coast. -At Port Costa our train was conveyed on an immense ferry-boat across the Sac- ramento River, at its entrance into the Bay at Benicia, the naval station of San Francisco. Here the river mingles its thick brown waters with the clear tides of the ocean, after passing through Suisun Bay, a broad shallow, with a marshy bot- tom, where the thick copper-colored water idly laps upon a muddy beach. Great beds of last year's rushes stand bristling and rustling in the breeze, stub- bornly waiting for a new growth to sup- plant and crowd them into the slime be- low. As we advance up the valley of the Sacramento, it presents to our eyes a plain of verdure, broken now and then by a small pool, in which wild ducks are floating like so many lilies, as, at first sight, we thought they were. Great flocks of black- birds rise from the fields of grain and sweep around like cloud shadows, softly floating down and fading from our sight, as they lose themselves again and again in the rich verdure. MOUNT SHASTA. I I Scenes shift as we go on, like the views in a vast panorama. The great, level val- ley stretches far out toward the east, as our route takes us farther from the river ; and over it we see white sails gleaming against the sky, looking as if they were navigating the green fields which lie be- tween, rather than the muddy waters of the Sacramento River beyond. Now, the wheat fields give place to brown marsh lands, upon which many herds of cattle and horses are seen. I counted thirty horses in one small group, and soon passed another, at least four times as large. Droves of black pigs are seen at intervals, wallowing and fattening in grass as high as their shoulders. There are no signs of feeding or care for them, any more than for the cattle and horses. We arrive at Suisun at six o'clock p. m. It seems a smart little town, but sits upon a dead level of marsh land, and must be a sufferer from occasional inundations of the Sacramento Valley. Soon after leaving Suisun, we find the grain fields are being ploughed ; buttercups are seen, and cultiva- tion is going on everywhere about us. But few trees are grown here. As I look about 12 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. upon either side of our way, I can see but three groups ; these are all eucalyptus trees, which cluster about and shade the farmhouses. Following the grain fields, comes an- other ranch, devoted mainly to cattle and sheep. The different herds and flocks are divided by rail fences. Ranch follows ranch upon all sides, each with its gener- ous group of farm-buildings, all painted white, and shaded by tall eucalyptus trees. They stand at regular distances from each other, and are very picturesque in the pre- vailing greenness of this portion of the valley. Next comes the town of Elmira, which I note as a " goaty place," from the fact that these are the first goats I have seen in Northern California. A white church spire rises above the group of eucalyptus trees, and an immense windmill stares us in the face as we pass it, like a rising sun in a child's picture book. Elmira is as yet a town of but small importance. Again a long stretch of distance, a low level of vivid green, with groups of home- steads, ranches enclosed by rail fences, wherein horses, cows, and black pigs roam MOUNT SHASTA. 13 at will, make up this by no means unpleas- ing section of the panorama, and then an- other change of scene. A vineyard, with grape-leaves as large as the palm of my hand, showing the Sacramento Valley to be the banner section, as far as warmth and early vegetation is concerned, of northern California. Four teams of six horses each are next seen, breaking the sods of a large area for grain. A team upon each of the four sides has enclosed a large green space by a wide strip of broken ground, and upon this space of many acres are corralled by the rich brown earth a beautiful herd of forty or fifty cows, red, black, white, and speckled, all feeding upon the rank green grass as if intent upon saving it from the ploughshare. West of us is a long line of hills, which rise higher above the level of the valley as they extend northward, and terminate in the geyser region, or rather merge into the mountains about the gey- sers, dividing this from Napa and other small valleys round about it. In every other direction the valley meets the level horizon without a single elevation to break the perfect line, fertile and beautiful. 14 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. We reach Dixon just as the sun appears to rest for an instant upon a mountain level, and then to drop below it in a flood of its own golden light. Dixon is a pretty place of low frame houses, with a sprink- ling of enterprising brick blocks, enough to give this valley town a tone of smart- ness. We stop but a few minutes for a passing train and then pass on. Again are repeated the broad fields of wheat and barley, the detached groups of white farm- houses, some large and tasteful, the beau- tiful herds of speckled cattle, the ebony pigs and animated horses galloping over the wide spaces, — and all included in one grand comprehensive view as I turn my eyes over the broad reaches of the valley. Now come the umber tints of the broken ground, the sear stubble of last year's grain fields, half-eaten ricks of dry grass, and the green bronze hues of the sprout- ing barley fields, all in quick and pleasing succession. No prairie, in w r hat was once our West, ever equalled in thrift and love- liness the beautiful valleys of California. Passing on between another great herd of speckled cattle upon one side, and a multitude of horses, mingled with calves MOUNT SHASTA. 1 5 of all ages, from six months to two years, upon the other, we next arrive at a decided change in the scenes about us. We reached Davisville after crossing a stream of considerable size flowing toward the Sacramento River. The town is small ; one village church in the midst of a few small houses is all it can boast of architec- ture; it sits in the midst of a large tract of the valley given to the cultivation of fruit. Large vineyards, interspersed with or- chards of various fruits, all pink and white with bloom, brighten and gladden us like a rosy dawn in the silver twilight of the morning. After leaving the vineyards and orchard lands of Davisville, the mountains which had bounded our vision on the west dis- appeared, and the low level everywhere began to grow marshy. Buttercups cov- ered large areas like a "cloth of gold," and shallow pools of water grew in size reflect- ing the soft hues of the twilight, while the small tufts and patches of green which dotted their surfaces looked like jewels in their brilliant setting. We arrived at the city of Sacramento in the evening, and consequently saw but little of its surround- 1 6 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. ings. We had passed over ninety - two miles of our journey to Oregon by day- light. During the following night we trav- elled one hundred and seventy-two miles farther, and reached the head of the lower Sacramento Valley at the town of Redding early on the morning of April 6th. I saw glimpses of our northward jour- ney all through the night. We passed over level spaces and made occasional stops at towns along our route, but I could see nothing of the aspect of the country. We left the green levels behind us at Redding, and entered upon a region of rug- ged and uncultivated nature. I looked from my window, and for a moment im- agined myself travelling among the hills of New Hampshire, so like to them was the scene about us. We soon came once more to the Sacramento River. Not the brown, muddy Sacramento of the previous day, but a river whose water is white and pure as crystal, tinted like Niagara, a full, swift stream, and feathered from quill to tip like the full, fluff plume of an ostrich. We began to ascend its wild and ro- mantic canon at about six in the morning, and the beautiful river for more than three MOUNT SHASTA. I? hours presented to our delighted admira- tion such a series of lovely scenes as it is seldom one's good fortune to behold. They followed so close, each complete in itself, alike and yet so distinctly different, it was hard to distinguish one as more delightfully charming than another. With but two or three exceptions, where for a few rods the river took a level sweep around some projecting spur of the hills, or obstructing boulder in its course, it was a swift succession of sparkling rapids and foamy white cascades, from the point where we entered its ravine at Middle Creek to where our road turned from it to ascend the Big Bend, which trails its wind- ing way up a height of 530 feet to the sta- tion of McLoud. I thought, when we entered the canon of the Sacramento in the early morning, that I would make a note of every lovely scene presented in our progress, and so continue my journal of our journey as I began it on leaving San Francisco. For the first half hour there seemed to be lack- ing a bit of color, perhaps an autumn tint, to perfect the loveliness of the wild beauty of the scenery, and I pictured the Poca- 1 8 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. hontas of my imagination, with her painted bow and quiver, and her wampum-fringed garments of many hues, standing airily poised upon this jutting point, or with moccasined feet leaping over the white cascade from yonder green but moss-grown pine, which bridged the rushing stream. It was not long, however, before I came to feel and know that this is no sylvan brook to pose and " laugh for our delight," but rather that the wonderful skill and energy of man had opened our way amid these wild and sublime solitudes of Nature, and disclosed to our gaze one of her great throbbing arteries, the fountain of whose bounding and exhaustless flow was in the mighty heart of Shasta ; that this bound- ing and resistless flow was for the blessing of the happy sunlit valleys which surround his feet, causing them to bring forth bud and bloom and verdure and abundant fruitage. At 8.30 in the morning we passed the Lower Soda Springs. There is one large hotel and several cottages for the conven- ience of those who come for the benefit to be derived from drinking the waters. A few rods farther on, and I caught a distant MOUNT SHASTA. 1 9 flitting sight of Shasta, and I clapped my hands and called out, " Shasta ! Shasta ! " that all might share in my delight. The town of Dunmuir stands upon a small flat area, and has several quite extensive brick repair shops belonging to the California and Oregon Railroad, with a dozen or per- haps more small dwellings clustered about, a grocery, a hotel, and the "Star" printing- office, — quite a good show for a mountain town 2271 feet above the level of San Francisco, remote from all centres of en- terprise, connected only with the outside world by the railroad and an old discon- tinued stage route. Still the cascades swept down in dancing curves and showers of white foam, and still we toiled on, close upon the way whence they came. At Dunmuir we exchanged our engine for two that were both larger and better equipped for the labor which was before them. Our road is cut into the sides of banks and hills and mountains, all the way, as close to the edge of the stream as it is possible to go, and sometimes overhanging it upon bridge and trestle. I turned for a backward look and saw 20 PrcTURESQUE ALASKA. the river tumbling and racing down a direct course of two or three hundred rods, be- tween tall dark firs and pines, a narrow strip of the blue sky above, and the water white and full of life-like motion below, flashing and sparkling in the yellow sun- light, which darted down in flecks and streamers through the solemn shadows of the trees. It was a scene of beauty, wild and fascinating, which it will long be a de- light to us to recall ; so satisfying to our anticipations of what this journey would re- veal to us that we both at once exclaimed, " Now I wish that G. and M. and P. were with us to share and enjoy this wonderful and delightful journey." We came immediately after to where the river seemed to pause in its wild course, at the foot of a great moss-covered boulder, from behind which it swept in one strong, graceful curve, its color bright as liquid emerald. Rounding the corresponding curve along the bank, we came full upon Mossbrae Falls. Unnumbered small streams of ice-cold water, from the frozen caverns of Mount Shasta, burst at once from cushions of deep green moss, the growth of ages, which MOUNT SHASTA. 21 lay piled upon the top of a high precipice overhanging a lovely pool below. They came tumbling and foaming down its moss- grown side with sylvan glee and frantic leaps ; now white as snow, and when the sunlight caught and seemed to hold it in a golden net, it flashed and shone as irides- cent as the bow of heaven. Some shot down in gauzy veils, and some, like minia- ture Niagaras, poured down their little vol- umes to the pool and rose in bubbling haste to join the stream below. The music of all these sparkling rills was like the chiming of distant bells. Why were they not sweet songs of joy ? A wild rejoicing of the long imprisoned waters for their advent to the light of day, the soft airs of heaven, the freshness and beauty of earth, the strength of the resistless river, and the boundless life of the mighty ocean, — a lovelier scene can hardly be imagined. Were I an artist, I would never again touch paint to canvas until I could stand by Moss- brae Falls. Another bend of the river, and we cross it upon a fine arched bridge of stone, when our porter points to a high cliff of stone and gravel on our right, and gravely tells us, there lies our way. 22 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. The river winds about so abruptly here, forming two right angles between its rocky walls, in the distance of not more than a hundred feet, that I saw no way of egress from the labyrinth in which we seemed to be. Cliffs to the right and left, and high walls in front of and behind us, seemed to shut us completely in from outward space. Still the river kept us company, and where that went, thence we had come, and whence that came, there we must find our way. We had passed through many spurs of the mountains, which had barred our pro- gress, by tunnels ; some short, and some quite long ;• always to be welcomed from their darkness by the glad surprise of the river, which seemed to flow the swifter for our coming. We crossed and recrossed it eighteen times upon picturesque bridges and trestles, some arched, some of stone, and some of timbers, rustic and airy, as the places might require. We were near to its icy sources and its volume of water was sensibly diminished, but the picturesque- ness was a constantly increasing character- istic from the moment when w r e entered the mountain canon until we were obliged MOUNT SHASTA. 2$ to turn from its ever-varying and fascinat- ing course. Looking up the ravine as we left the river upon our left, we caught glimpses of the wild rocky places where the water springs to light from hidden fountains ; we realized that we were peeping into the primeval solitudes of nature. Yet not a solitude, but the wild and lovely haunt of all wild creatures which roam and rejoice in the crags and fastnesses of these lofty pyramids of Nature ; haunts, like Caledo- nia's, " Stern and wild, Fit nurse for a poetic child." Making a sharp turn in our course, we entered among the pine forests and began our ascent to McLoud. Still we were fol- lowing the course of the river, but upon a rising track and with its current. We were going toward the south, but soon made another complete tack to the north, and again ran parallel with and against the flow of the river, having "boxed" both it and the compass, in passing over the Big Bend of the railway. Looking down upon our track, we saw the river far below where we had crossed and recrossed it so 24 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. many times in its sinuous course, and, upon a terrace intervening between it and our present position, the long stretch of rail parallel to it and us, which marked the passage of our first ascent. Making our third tack upon the mountain, we took a southeasterly course and came upon a level area, at an altitude of 3400 feet, called Strawberry Valley. Here was the town or station of McLoud. Strawberry Valley is a cleared area of many acres — taking its name from the abundance of wild strawber- ries which in their season are found there. McLoud is a lumbermen's settlement, as the great quantities of sawed lumber and wood attest. There were fifteen or twenty small, box-like houses, shanties, and huts, the abodes of lumbermen. None were in camp, however, as for some reason busi- ness seemed suspended and the camp de- serted. From Strawberry Valley we still ascended, catching now and then a sight of great Shasta, which was so fleeting and phantom-like that we could hardly restrain our impatience until we should come in full view of its regal majesty. Crossing a very high and fragile-looking trestle, which bridged a deep gulch between MOUNT SHASTA. 2$ two heights, we came to a point where a momentary view of Shasta's southern side was presented to our unobstructed sight. Upon our left was a long range of snowy mountains rising 9000 feet above the sea, known as Scott Mountains. Farther back toward the southwest were the strangely beautiful Castle Rocks. We saw these upon our left when we passed the Lower Soda Springs ; at the same time we got our first sight of Mount Shasta, and the greater wonder eclipsed the lesser. Castle Rocks are a weird and fantastic combination of peaks, turrets, pinnacles, and towers, whose black and jagged sur- faces assume all sorts of fantastic shapes, and give play to fancies of the wildest imaginings. There is little chance for won- der that the Indians peopled these inacces- sible fastnesses with mountain sprites and dire hobgoblins. Across the airy trestle, and up the farther height, we came upon a broad and fertile plateau, over which we sped between lofty pines and firs, intently watching for every glimpse that came to us of the great White Shasta. Here we came to Acme, a little town upon the top of the mountain up which 26 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. we had been winding our way for more than an hoar. We found at Acme several large sawmills in active operation, many very good board houses, and immense quan- tities of lumber of all descriptions piled promiscuously about on every side, await- ing shipment to southern ports for the building up of future cities. Passing on and out from the town of the lumbermen, we arrived at Sissons, at 10.30 a. m., and left our train for breakfast at the station. Sissons is the town, the hotel, and the station 1 from which the ascent of Shasta is made. And here Mount Shasta stood in solemn majesty before us, not more than twelve miles distant. But not the Shasta I had longed so much to see. This was Mount Shasta with broad shoulders, like great white wings extending far out upon either side. It looks high and massive and grand, but not the Mount Shasta before whose sublime majesty I had expected to bow down in reverence, tremulous with awe and admiration. At the left of the hotel, and apparently quite near to it, rises Muir Mountain, or 1 All in one and beneath one broad roof. MOUNT SHASTA. 2J Black Butte, as the natives call it, 6500 feet above the sea-level, and 3000 feet above Strawberry Valley. It is a reddish- brown volcanic mountain, very peaked and extremely interesting in its appearance. It rises immediately from the level of the valley, and looks, as it really is, of much more recent birth than other mountains round about it. It is said that " Shasta was cold and dead many an age before the fires in Muir Mountain were kindled." It is to all appearances utterly naked, not a sign of vegetable growth exists upon it, from base to topmost peak. Castle Mountains, a continuation of Castle Rocks, are to the west of Sissons and in full view, a long, high chain of snowy peaks and pinnacles. Near them rises the lofty triple summit of Trinity Mountain. The situation of Sissons is peculiarly in- teresting to us for its affording us, in the hour which we spent after breakfast in walking up and down the wide and long plank walk before the hotel, an opportunity of observing its grand and magnificent mountain scenery, — gigantic Shasta in front of us, and Muir, Scott, Castle, and Trinity standing so near behind us. 28 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. As we left Sissons we had Mount Shasta on our right and all the time in full view. We marked with wonder and admiration its variety of shapes, as revealed by our pro- gress. When just south of it, the moun- tain stands like a massive pyramid with a sharp spur upon its left ; a little beyond, and it is winged, as we saw it at Sissons ; then with clustered peaks ; soon the peaks are seen in line, and the summit is a per- fect level, cutting the blue sky like a mighty crystal wedge. We arrive at Edgewood, situated in Shasta Valley, seventeen miles from Sis- sons and four hundred feet lower, where are a few two-story frame buildings and a small church. Fields are cleared and cul- tivated, but the land is very stony. Where the stones lie undisturbed in a natural state, the ground is literally covered with them. They are all small, none of them more than a foot in diameter, and most of them very much smaller. They lie entirely free upon the surface of the soil, which is good, and look as if they had fallen in a recent shower, as hail-stones lie thick and loose after a sudden storm. The space covered by these stones is circumscribed, MOUNT SHASTA. 29 neither far nor wide ; they are volcanic, and some one said they had lain where we saw them ever since the Black Butte burst asunder the bonds of Earth and arose to take his place among her mighty giants. Next appeared beside our route an old- fashioned one -story cottage, unpainted, save by storm and wind, with shed, barn, and cow yards, just like those we often see nestled snugly among the hills of Vermont and New Hampshire. Two or three acres of cultivated land about it, with all of Shasta Valley for pasturage, make a homestead in this far northwest which reminds us for- cibly of the rural homes among our New England hills. Still farther on in the val- ley we came to a place on our way where Mount Shasta, the Shasta of our imagina- tion, that which we have all the while been hoping to see, stood full before us. Its awful height, its immaculate whiteness, its strength and immeasurable magnitude, and the broad, far stretch of its massive base, — all impressed me with a power equalled only by the awful presence of El Capitan. That Mount Shasta is sublime and ma- jestic, far above all others that I have seen in California, I feel and know. What may 30 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. be the power of the lofty mountains of this far northwest to supplant Shasta as the mightiest of all, I cannot tell. I wish I could express how it appears to me. It looks so pure, so free, so silent, — so of the world and yet so far above it. The shadows lying upon the nearer mountains and hills are very beautiful, but all things pale and sink in the contemplation of incomparable Mount Shasta. Still descending gradually, we left the fertile slopes and pasture lands of Shasta Valley and came to a large, full river, the second in size in California. Klamath River flows down from Klamath Lakes, and takes in its course the waters of three other rivers, which bear the names of the mountains from whence they flow, Shasta, Scott, and Trinity. We crossed the Klamath near the town of Hornbook, and crossing also the narrow Klamath valley at right angles, we could see but little of it until we began our ascent upon the northern side. I then looked down the long stretch of the river vale and saw the broad Klamath flowing placidly down between the green sides of the valley, which almost seemed the river's banks, so MOUNT SHASTA. 3 I near they approached it upon either side. So great was the contrast between the Klamath, broad and beautiful as it was, and the wild and exciting dash of the Sac- ramento, that it seemed like giving milk for wine, and I could not "enthuse" over it after drinking so freely of the wine of admiration from the streams which flow from the vaulted caverns that underlie the icy domes of Mount Shasta. The ascent of Siskiyou Mountain lay before us. We toiled slowly up the steep grade, our engines panting like living crea- tures under the strain of our heavy train. We still could see Mount Shasta's tower- ing height, the snowy pinnacles of Castle Mountains, and the shining spires of Trin- ity, while east of us and high above loomed the strange volcanic pillar known as Pilot Rock. It stands like an immense granite tower, 6000 feet in height, upon the bound- ary line between California and Oregon ; and it looks down from either side of the Cascade Range upon wondrous scenes of mountains, vales, and rivers. Its promi- nence made it one of the most valuable watch-towers during our Indian wars in the early settlement of Oregon and California. 32 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. Coles is the last town upon our route in California. The fir-trees of Oregon have been seen mingled with the pines all along the Shasta region. At Coles they became quite con- spicuous. They are tall and stately trees, not spreading in their growth, but compact and shapely, with bark the color of that of the Scotch pine. The grade is still more steep and our progress is more labored as we slowly move up between deep cuts of gravel and flinty stone. We are following in the same rough pathway which General Fremont marked through this wild country of trackless forests before the days of civil engineering. It is very interesting to think of him and his toilsome marches over these wild mountains and through these great hidden valleys, while we are reposing com- fortably in our palace cars and taking our " ease in our own hired houses." This journey so full of peril to him, which he travelled in weakness and with fear of hos- tile Indian, so little time ago, is to-day for us filled with delight, security, and comfort. For a novelty, we reached a point not long after lunch where the way, though wild, was uninteresting ; at least there was 7777± PASS OF SISKIYOU. 33 nothing to excite our wonder or admiration. I observed a well-travelled highway, leading somewhere, — I did, however, " wonder " where it led. We are never in all this broad land beyond the region of some sign of civilization. The highway, I am told, was the old stage road to Oregon before the completion of the railroad over the Sis- kiyou mountains. This Oregon and California Railroad is a continued surprise to us. Such feats of engineering as have been accomplished are really marvellous. The old stage road over Siskiyou measured the distance of ten miles. The railroad makes the passage of the mountain, connecting the termini of the two roads, by a series of tacks and zigzags which measure eighteen miles in its ascent and descent of steep mountain grades. Again and for the last time we see gigantic Shasta. It towers far above all intervening objects, an immense billow of white in the southern sky. One more broad curve and we have at- tained the summit of Siskiyou. I see the two powerful engines belching great clouds of smoke and marching sturdily upward, subduing height and distance with their 34 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. determined strokes. I look backward and mark the line of our road as it lies plainly visible in every part below us. The whole side of the mountain is terraced by five long lines of track, doubling back and forth and winding upward to its top. We crossed a very high trestle over a deep and dark gulf, and soon entered a tunnel under the peak of Siskiyou Mount, 3300 feet long. From the darkness of the mountain, which was so still and solemn as to oppress us, we slowly came into the light of the outer world, glad to be disen- tombed. We stopped at Siskiyou at an elevation of 4135 feet. The fir-trees all about the station are very tall ; many of them have been blasted by fire, and lum- bermen have done their part to add to the extravagant waste of these stately forests. The town consists of a small station, a freight-house, one small dwelling, and a woodpile. There is also another frame building which may be mansion or work- shop. All are new and well painted. Evi- dently the town belongs to the railroad corporation. From Siskiyou, we begin our winding descent on the northern side of the moun- THE PASS OF SISKIYOU. 35 tain. We pass between a heavy growth of the Oregon firs, tall, light, and graceful in their tapering height, straight as an Indian arrow but seared and blackened by forest fires. We double on our track, and look- ing southward far clown in the deep valley we behold the very road upon which we came before we began our zigzag ascent of the mountain. We turn northward again, and now see another winding road, far down upon the opposite side of Siskiyou. It weaves back and forth, lower and lower, — each terrace cut by a deep wood-grown gulch, which reaches from the top of the mountain straight down to its base, in the beautiful valley below. Every terrace has its airy, web-like tres- tle, one below another, spanning the fear- ful gulch beneath. These structures look strangely frail and insecure, as we realize that over them all our train must pass before we reach the great basin-like val- ley which lies so far below us. We pro- ceeded more slowly in our descent, as the danger of accidents is greater than in the ascent. The valley of Rogue River lies below us 36 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. • like a great amphitheatre of woodland, vale, and river. The view of it from the top of the mountain was extremely beautiful. High mountains rose all around it, lifting their varying shapes against the sky ; many of them are white with snow ; some peaked and pinnacled, and some like castle walls, with domes and turrets. Within these lay the softer lines of foot-hills, which enclosed the valley like the ornate rim of the deep and lovely basin. Our point of observation was on a level with the snow line on the mountains opposite, which are apart of the great Cascade range of Oregon. As we descended, now east then west, over trestles and through tunnels, the great basin of the valley became broken into hills and depressions, forming an undulating surface over all the area, which had looked as level and soft as a shaven lawn ; and the tall pine and fir trees, which had looked to us like bristling blades of grass, began to assume their proper stature, rising two and three hundred feet above the soil which nourished them. Coming nearer to the level of the valley, our train halted at a water tank. We have THE PASS OF SISKIYOU. 37 a sense of relief that the fearful tension upon our nerves is almost over for the day, and a feeling of thankfulness and grateful appreciation toward our two faithful en- gines comes into my heart, which I almost "ong in some occult way to convey to them. They have proved so responsive to com- mand, so worthy of trust and confidence > that they almost seem to be sentient crea- tures. I take a real pleasure in seeing them filled to overflowing with the pure sw^et water which flows so musically down in little rills and miniature cascades from the mountain spring above us. A little below the fountain comes a wide area of several acres, where the waste stones and gravel of the excavated ledges and tunnels on the road above have been clumped by the laborers into an ugly gulch. On this area is Chinatown. The tents of the Chinamen, without whom these feats of engineering would never have been real- ized, stand close and thick, like the wig- wams of an Indian village. Behind them, on the edge of their acres, overlooking the ravine, are all the various implements of their labor, save the broken and dismantled ones, of all descriptions, which lie heaped 38 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. in indiscriminate confusion at the bottom of the ravine. We left the rugged heights of the moun- tains behind us, and came down into the lovely fertile valley of Rogue River, among green pastures and cultivated fields and budding trees. Soon appear cosy homes in the midst of gardens and blooming orchards of peaches, apricots, and cherries. Cows are feeding on the green hill-slopes, and live- oaks are standing thick about us ; but all are destitute of foliage save that of the " accursed mistletoe," which hangs in heavy clusters so thick upon the leafless boughs that at a first glance they seem to be clothed in their natural foliage. Poor trees, I never see them thus without a feeling of sad and regretful sympathy ; for the mistle- toe is but a deadly vampire, and the tree it fastens upon is doomed to slow decay. Upon the eastern side of the valley flows Ashland Creek, a tributary of Rogue River. Although some distance from our train, we know its course by the pretty homesteads upon its banks. They stand all along the stream, among fields of grain, some green and others newly sown. In every instance THE PASS OF SISKIYOU. 39 there was a large peach orchard near by, a solid mass of deep rich bloom. Ashland is a pretty town in a fine farming district. The fertile uplands across the river reach far up on the green foot-hills, with grazing lands beyond extending to their wooded top. Farm follows farm, bearing unmistakable evidence of the thrift and prosperity of their owners, until we arrive at Medford. It is the second town at which we have stopped in Oregon, and here we dine at the station. There is a small brick church surrounded by a neat and pretty village> all new and evidently the railroad centre of Rogue River valley. As we leave Medford behind us in the early twilight, we pass a wood-crowned eminence close upon our right, and look out upon a broad open space. The wooded hill which we had passed seemed the northern terminus of the line of white hills which had hemmed in the valley on the east, and passing through the break made by the river in their continuity, we could look back of them toward the high moun- tains of the lower Cascades. We saw Mount Pitt ; it rose, a perfect 40 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. pyramid in form and immaculate as a white drift, 9000 feet in height. About one third of its height from the base was covered by a growth of evergreens, so scattered, how- ever, that they only thinly veiled the snowy surfaces beneath them. The rest of the mountain had not a blot or shadow to mar its whiteness. Exactly east of us, and much nearer, stood a bare, truncated mountain much resembling Round Mountain in Mexico. Upon its top there must be a beautiful table-land, doubtless the feeding ground of the vast herds of wild mountain sheep which once abounded here. Immediately beyond this, and still nearer to us, rises Table Rock. This is indeed a " Round Table " about which the spirits of earth and air might hold high revels. It rises gradually in a circular form for sev- eral hundred feet, from which height there shoots up a solid perpendicular wall of dark gray stone for many hundred feet more, without a visible break or seam in any part of it. There are portions of it which are grooved like gigantic fluted columns, adding much to the harmonious symmetry of the massive mountain table. It is quite THE PASS OF SISKIYOU. 4 1 destitute of trees or verdure of any kind and about half a mile in diameter. The river broadens beyond Table Rock into a mirror-like lake, which beautifully reflects the mountains and the skies above them ; then it contracts, and flows in a deep still current along the base of a high, thickly wooded range of hills, which grow more dense and sombre as the twilight deepens. The valley narrows rapidly. Hills meet hills upon either side, all darkly cov- ered with the tall firs of Oregon, and parted only by the swiftly flowing river and the narrow ledge upon which our train glides on into the darkness of the night. This is Grant's Pass, a fascinating place in the deep twilight. What must it be in the clear light of day ? Our fancies can well imagine the playful shadows and the flecks of sunlight which darken and illu- mine the beautiful river, whose rapid flow through the narrow pass breaks into lovely cascades white as the icy fountains whence they came. Through Grant's Pass we passed over, during the night of the 6th, about two hundred miles of our journey. April 7. We awoke in the valley of the Willamette River. It is a fertile grain- 42 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. bearing region, much resembling the Sac- ramento valley, and is fast changing from pasturage to wheat cultivation. There are still widely scattered flocks of sheep and herds of cattle, but they are not frequent enough to give one the idea of large num- bers. Mount Hood appears distinct and rosy in the morning light. To .the southeast, in a long dark mountain chain of the Cascade Range, is another fine pyramidal mountain, rising high above its fellows. Its great height indicates that it is covered with snow, although it now looks dark and frowning as it towers over lesser heights, ail white in the morning sunlight. Doubt- less it is Mount Jefferson, so situated as not to give us a direct reflection of the sun. Mount Hood is white as marble ; and high above the clouds and massive ; but it fails to give me that impression of entire completeness, that breadth and height of sublimity and awful majesty, which seems to be incorporate in Mount Shasta, going out from it to the beholder with an abun- dant sense of satisfaction. When I took my last look at Mount Shasta, I felt like THE PASS OF SISKIYOU. 43 "Simeon" ; I had seen its glory, and felt the fulness of its majesty. We passed through the city of Salem, stopping but a few minutes, and went down the valley until we came to the falls of the river at Oregon City. The "Fall" of the full stream over the heaped and ledgy rocks, which here form a precipice of per- haps twenty feet, is a very pretty feature in the somewhat monotonous flow of the river. These Falls are situated about fifte^n miles above Portland, and Oregon City came very near to being the most important city of this northwestern State. Some trivial in- terest turned the tide of settlement to the site of Portland, resulting in the founding and building up of a great and beautiful city there. II. MOUNT HOOD, MOUNT TACOMA, AND PUGET SOUND. We arrived at Portland at ten o'clock this morning, and obtained good accommo- dations at the Esmond House, thanks to our kind friend, Mr. Cofran of San Fran- cisco, who bespoke for us every care and attention while we remained there, until April 13th. Portland is a pretty city upon the Willamette River, about twelve miles from its confluence with the Columbia River. It stands upon a narrow strip of level area on the west bank of the Wil- lamette, along which it extends for several miles, reaching back upon the slopes of the " Heights " behind the city. These are two very high precipitous bluffs called "The Heights," from the tops of which a wide extent of the surrounding country can be seen, to the east and north, embrac- ing that region of the State traversed by the picturesque Cascade range of mountains. MOUNT HOOD. 45 By the courtesy of our friend Mr. Edwin M. Arthur, a banker of Portland, we were afforded the rare pleasure of several drives with him, behind a spirited pair of sorrel horses, to the summits of the lower and the upper Heights. On both occasions the air was delight- fully clear and warm, and balmy with the odors of the sweet firs of Oregon. Wild flowers were blooming all along our way. Dandelions as large as dinner plates, fresh and shining in the dew, sent up thick clus- ters of yellow blossoms, and multitudes of the lovely wild currant shrubs stood upon all sides literally shrouded in robes of pink bloom, shading from the most delicate rose tints to the deepest hues. Little boys came out from the narrow footpaths leading into the recesses of the hills, their hands filled with great bunches of wild trillium, or wake-robin, — a far prettier name for the lovely wildlings. It looked very strange to recognize these flowers growing wild upon the " Heights," and in full blossom on the 1 2th of April, when we knew that in our sunny garden in Massachusetts the green foliage had hardly broken the soil above them. 46 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. An abrupt turn in the steep ascent turned our eyes away from every attrac- tion in our immediate neighborhood to the great white mountains in the distance. Thenceforth, to the summit of the Height, we could behold nothing but the stately mountains of Oregon. Arriving there, such a scene of tran- scendent beauty and grandeur, such a rare combination of city and country, rivers and valleys, hills and woodlands, and towering mountains, reaching far from the south across the cast to the mountains of Wash- ington Territory on the north, we may never behold again. Almost beneath us lay the beautiful city of Portland, with the broad Willamette, spanned by airy bridges, and dotted with ships and boats of all descriptions, at her feet. Across the river, upon the fine roll- ing upland were the lovely groves and white villas of East Portland ; and beyond, but a few miles distant, flows the noble Columbia, at this part of its course nearly parallel with the Willamette. East of the Colum- bia is a broken chain of blue-wooded hills, many of them frosted with snow, beyond which rise the great earth-born giants, MOUNT HOOD. 4/ Mount Hood, Mount St. Helens, Mount Adams, and Mounts Tacoma and Jefferson. These last two are so far away that we can only see their white summits gleaming distinct and sharp above the intervening mountains against the sky. Mount Hood is magnificent in his serene grandeur, his sharp angular top shining like lustrous pearl in the level sunbeams. As the shadows deepen toward his broad, tree-covered base, the light takes a rosy hue, shading down in deeper tints to a solemn purple among the misty mazes of the foot-hills below. St. Helens rises on our left, graceful and peerless in her beauty as a stately bride. Her white mantle of spotless purity falls over her head and drapes gracefully down her sides like a soft-flowing raiment of white wool. Mount Adams rises from behind a grizzly mountain ridge, a double-headed giant, broad and massive as if he bore the " eter- nal years of God" upon his forehead; cleft from the crown of his head down deep into his heart, he rises stern and implacable to Time and the elements. Tacoma, from its distance, is a sugges- 48 PICTURESQUE ALASKA. tion rather than an assertion of height, and Mount Jefferson rises above a distant chain of mountains almost as pointed as an arrow head, and white as alabaster. The three mountains which have thus far stood in preeminent grandeur before us, are Mount Shasta, Mount Hood, and St. Helens. " There is a glory of the Sun, and a glory of the Moon, and another glory of the Stars." As we descended from the Heights down the rough zigzag road, but little better than the old trail which it once was, we had a fine bird's-eye view of the city below us. Its broad and well-paved streets, with their long lines of shade and ornamental trees and shrubs, just bursting into leaf and blos- som ; its many handsome and often palatial residences, with their richly shaven lawns and hedges and rare shrubs ; its ornate and costly churches ; its large, numerous, and tasteful public buildings ; its great business blocks and crowded wharves ; its busy ve- hicles and street cars running in every direction, — all impress us forcibly with an appreciation of the rapid growth, the wealth and importance of this " Queen City " of our great " Northwest." To-morrow morning: we shall leave Ore- MOUNT TACOMA AND PUGET SOUND. 49 gon behind us, as we go northward on our journey to Tacoma in Washington Terri- tory. It is a lovely State, and very desir- able for residence. Were I called upon to- night to choose the location of my " five acre lot " on this Pacific coast, I should de- cide, without any hesitation, upon one of .the many pleasant spots about the city of Portland. The winters here are mild and delightful, the seasons have the same di- versity as in New England, with less ex- tremes of either heat or cold. The country is very fertile, the surface undulating, the rivers large and navigable, and the people refined, cultivated, and very hospitable. April 13. We left Portland late on the morning of the 13th, taking the railway train for Tacoma, Washington Territory. There was a heavy fog over the river and the surrounding country, entirely hiding the mountains from our view. It soon be- gan to dissipate, and gradually one after another of the cloud-like peaks and domes of the mountains came from the mists and filled our gaze for the time to the exclusion of everything else. I saw the Willamette flowing mirror-like along our way, between green banks and lovely hill-slopes, with 5