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diff --git a/326-h/326-h.htm b/326-h/326-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8a03ce3 --- /dev/null +++ b/326-h/326-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9208 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Steep Trails, by John Muir</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 5%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +p.caption {font-weight: bold; + text-align: center; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Steep Trails, by John Muir</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Steep Trails</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: John Muir</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September, 1995 [eBook #326]<br /> +[Most recently updated: July 15, 2022]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Judy Gibson and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STEEP TRAILS ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="cover" /> +</div> + +<h1>Steep Trails</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by John Muir</h2> + +<h2>California • Utah • Nevada • Washington<br/> +Oregon • The Grand Cañon</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" > + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#pref01">EDITOR’S NOTE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap00">Steep Trails</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">I. Wild Wool</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">II. A Geologist’s Winter Walk</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">III. Summer Days at Mount Shasta</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">IV. A Perilous Night on Shasta’s Summit</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">V. Shasta Rambles and Modoc Memories</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">VI. The City of the Saints</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">VII. A Great Storm in Utah</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">VIII. Bathing in Salt Lake</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">IX. Mormon Lilies</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">X. The San Gabriel Valley</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">XI. The San Gabriel Mountains</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">XII. Nevada Farms</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">XIII. Nevada Forests</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">XIV. Nevada’s Timber Belt</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">XV. Glacial Phenomena in Nevada</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">XVI. Nevada’s Dead Towns</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">XVII. Puget Sound</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">XVIII. The Forests of Washington</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">XIX. People and Towns of Puget Sound</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">XX. An Ascent of Mount Rainier</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">XXI. The Physical and Climatic Characteristics of Oregon</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">XXII. The Forests of Oregon and their Inhabitants</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">XXIII. The Rivers of Oregon</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap24">XXIV. The Grand Cañon of the Colorado</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap25">Footnotes:</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus01"></a> +<img src="images/img01.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="mountain_sheep" /> +<p class="caption">Mountain Sheep<br/> +(<i>Ovis nelsoni</i>)<br/> +From a drawing by Allan Brooks</p> +</div> + +<h2>Illustrations</h2> + +<table summary="" > + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus01">Mountain Sheep (<i>Ovis nelsoni</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus02">TISSIACK FROM GLACIER POINT: TENAYA CAÑON ON THE LEFT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus03">MOUNT SHASTA AFTER A SNOWSTORM</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus04">AT SHASTA SODA SPRINGS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus05">IN THE WAHSATCH MOUNTAINS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus06">SEGO LILIES (<i>Calochortus Nuttallii</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus07">SAN GABRIEL VALLEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus08">THE SAGE LEVELS OF THE NEVADA DESERT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus09">MOUNT RAINIER FROM THE SODA SPRINGS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus10">THE OREGON SEA-BLUFFS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus11">CAPE HORN, COLUMBIA RIVER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus12">THE GRAND CAÑON AT O’NEILL’S POINT</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="pref01"></a>EDITOR’S NOTE</h2> + +<p> +The papers brought together in this volume have, in a general way, been +arranged in chronological sequence. They span a period of twenty-nine years of +Muir’s life, during which they appeared as letters and articles, for the +most part in publications of limited and local circulation. The Utah and Nevada +sketches, and the two San Gabriel papers, were contributed, in the form of +letters, to the <i>San Francisco Evening Bulletin</i> toward the end of the +seventies. Written in the field, they preserve the freshness of the +author’s first impressions of those regions. Much of the material in the +chapters on Mount Shasta first took similar shape in 1874. Subsequently it was +rewritten and much expanded for inclusion in <i>Picturesque California, and the +Region West of the Rocky Mountains</i>, which Muir began to edit in 1888. In +the same work appeared the description of Washington and Oregon. The charming +little essay “Wild Wool” was written for the <i>Overland +Monthly</i> in 1875. “A Geologist’s Winter Walk” is an +extract from a letter to a friend, who, appreciating its fine literary quality, +took the responsibility of sending it to the <i>Overland Monthly</i> without +the author’s knowledge. The concluding chapter on “The Grand Cañon +of the Colorado” was published in the <i>Century Magazine</i> in 1902, +and exhibits Muir’s powers of description at their maturity. +</p> + +<p> +Some of these papers were revised by the author during the later years of his +life, and these revisions are a part of the form in which they now appear. The +chapters on Mount Shasta, Oregon, and Washington will be found to contain +occasional sentences and a few paragraphs that were included, more or less +verbatim, in <i>The Mountains of California</i> and <i>Our National Parks</i>. +Being an important part of their present context, these paragraphs could not be +omitted without impairing the unity of the author’s descriptions. +</p> + +<p> +The editor feels confident that this volume will meet, in every way, the high +expectations of Muir’s readers. The recital of his experiences during a +stormy night on the summit of Mount Shasta will take rank among the most +thrilling of his records of adventure. His observations on the dead towns of +Nevada, and on the Indians gathering their harvest of pine nuts, recall a phase +of Western life that has left few traces in American literature. Many, too, +will read with pensive interest the author’s glowing description of what +was one time called the New Northwest. Almost inconceivably great have been the +changes wrought in that region during the past generation. Henceforth the +landscapes that Muir saw there will live in good part only in his writings, for +fire, axe, plough, and gunpowder have made away with the supposedly boundless +forest wildernesses and their teeming life. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +W<small>ILLIAM</small> F<small>REDERIC</small> B<small>ADÈ</small> +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Berkeley, California<br/> +<i>May</i>, 1918 +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap00"></a>STEEP TRAILS</h2> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>I. Wild Wool</h2> + +<p> +Moral improvers have calls to preach. I have a friend who has a call to plough, +and woe to the daisy sod or azalea thicket that falls under the savage +redemption of his keen steel shares. Not content with the so-called subjugation +of every terrestrial bog, rock, and moorland, he would fain discover some +method of reclamation applicable to the ocean and the sky, that in due calendar +time they might be brought to bud and blossom as the rose. Our efforts are of +no avail when we seek to turn his attention to wild roses, or to the fact that +both ocean and sky are already about as rosy as possible—the one with +stars, the other with dulse, and foam, and wild light. The practical +developments of his culture are orchards and clover-fields wearing a smiling, +benevolent aspect, truly excellent in their way, though a near view discloses +something barbarous in them all. Wildness charms not my friend, charm it never +so wisely: and whatsoever may be the character of his heaven, his earth seems +only a chaos of agricultural possibilities calling for grubbing-hoes and +manures. +</p> + +<p> +Sometimes I venture to approach him with a plea for wildness, when he +good-naturedly shakes a big mellow apple in my face, reiterating his favorite +aphorism, “Culture is an orchard apple; Nature is a crab.” Not all +culture, however, is equally destructive and inappreciative. Azure skies and +crystal waters find loving recognition, and few there be who would welcome the +axe among mountain pines, or would care to apply any correction to the tones +and costumes of mountain waterfalls. Nevertheless, the barbarous notion is +almost universally entertained by civilized man, that there is in all the +manufactures of Nature something essentially coarse which can and must be +eradicated by human culture. I was, therefore, delighted in finding that the +wild wool growing upon mountain sheep in the neighborhood of Mount Shasta was +much finer than the average grades of cultivated wool. This FINE discovery was +made some three months ago<a href="#linknote-1" +name="linknoteref-1"><sup>[1]</sup></a>, while hunting among the Shasta sheep +between Shasta and Lower Klamath Lake. Three fleeces were obtained—one +that belonged to a large ram about four years old, another to a ewe about the +same age, and another to a yearling lamb. After parting their beautiful wool on +the side and many places along the back, shoulders, and hips, and examining it +closely with my lens, I shouted: “Well done for wildness! Wild wool is +finer than tame!” +</p> + +<p> +My companions stooped down and examined the fleeces for themselves, pulling out +tufts and ringlets, spinning them between their fingers, and measuring the +length of the staple, each in turn paying tribute to wildness. It WAS finer, +and no mistake; finer than Spanish Merino. Wild wool IS finer than tame. +</p> + +<p> +“Here,” said I, “is an argument for fine wildness that needs +no explanation. Not that such arguments are by any means rare, for all wildness +is finer than tameness, but because fine wool is appreciable by everybody +alike—from the most speculative president of national wool-growers’ +associations all the way down to the gude-wife spinning by her +ingleside.” +</p> + +<p> +Nature is a good mother, and sees well to the clothing of her many +bairns—birds with smoothly imbricated feathers, beetles with shining +jackets, and bears with shaggy furs. In the tropical south, where the sun warms +like a fire, they are allowed to go thinly clad; but in the snowy northland she +takes care to clothe warmly. The squirrel has socks and mittens, and a tail +broad enough for a blanket; the grouse is densely feathered down to the ends of +his toes; and the wild sheep, besides his undergarment of fine wool, has a +thick overcoat of hair that sheds off both the snow and the rain. Other +provisions and adaptations in the dresses of animals, relating less to climate +than to the more mechanical circumstances of life, are made with the same +consummate skill that characterizes all the love work of Nature. Land, water, +and air, jagged rocks, muddy ground, sand beds, forests, underbrush, grassy +plains, etc., are considered in all their possible combinations while the +clothing of her beautiful wildlings is preparing. No matter what the +circumstances of their lives may be, she never allows them to go dirty or +ragged. The mole, living always in the dark and in the dirt, is yet as clean as +the otter or the wave-washed seal; and our wild sheep, wading in snow, roaming +through bushes, and leaping among jagged storm-beaten cliffs, wears a dress so +exquisitely adapted to its mountain life that it is always found as unruffled +and stainless as a bird. +</p> + +<p> +On leaving the Shasta hunting grounds I selected a few specimen tufts, and +brought them away with a view to making more leisurely examinations; but, owing +to the imperfectness of the instruments at my command, the results thus far +obtained must be regarded only as rough approximations. +</p> + +<p> +As already stated, the clothing of our wild sheep is composed of fine wool and +coarse hair. The hairs are from about two to four inches long, mostly of a dull +bluish-gray color, though varying somewhat with the seasons. In general +characteristics they are closely related to the hairs of the deer and antelope, +being light, spongy, and elastic, with a highly polished surface, and though +somewhat ridged and spiraled, like wool, they do not manifest the slightest +tendency to felt or become taggy. A hair two and a half inches long, which is +perhaps near the average length, will stretch about one fourth of an inch +before breaking. The diameter decreases rapidly both at the top and bottom, but +is maintained throughout the greater portion of the length with a fair degree +of regularity. The slender tapering point in which the hairs terminate is +nearly black: but, owing to its fineness as compared with the main trunk, the +quantity of blackness is not sufficient to affect greatly the general color. +The number of hairs growing upon a square inch is about ten thousand; the +number of wool fibers is about twenty-five thousand, or two and a half times +that of the hairs. The wool fibers are white and glossy, and beautifully spired +into ringlets. The average length of the staple is about an inch and a half. A +fiber of this length, when growing undisturbed down among the hairs, measures +about an inch; hence the degree of curliness may easily be inferred. I regret +exceedingly that my instruments do not enable me to measure the diameter of the +fibers, in order that their degrees of fineness might be definitely compared +with each other and with the finest of the domestic breeds; but that the three +wild fleeces under consideration are considerably finer than the average grades +of Merino shipped from San Francisco is, I think, unquestionable. +</p> + +<p> +When the fleece is parted and looked into with a good lens, the skin appears of +a beautiful pale-yellow color, and the delicate wool fibers are seen growing up +among the strong hairs, like grass among stalks of corn, every individual fiber +being protected about as specially and effectively as if inclosed in a separate +husk. Wild wool is too fine to stand by itself, the fibers being about as frail +and invisible as the floating threads of spiders, while the hairs against which +they lean stand erect like hazel wands; but, notwithstanding their great +dissimilarity in size and appearance, the wool and hair are forms of the same +thing, modified in just that way and to just that degree that renders them most +perfectly subservient to the well-being of the sheep. Furthermore, it will be +observed that these wild modifications are entirely distinct from those which +are brought chancingly into existence through the accidents and caprices of +culture; the former being inventions of God for the attainment of definite +ends. Like the modifications of limbs—the fin for swimming, the wing for +flying, the foot for walking—so the fine wool for warmth, the hair for +additional warmth and to protect the wool, and both together for a fabric to +wear well in mountain roughness and wash well in mountain storms. +</p> + +<p> +The effects of human culture upon wild wool are analogous to those produced +upon wild roses. In the one case there is an abnormal development of petals at +the expense of the stamens, in the other an abnormal development of wool at the +expense of the hair. Garden roses frequently exhibit stamens in which the +transmutation to petals may be observed in various stages of accomplishment, +and analogously the fleeces of tame sheep occasionally contain a few wild hairs +that are undergoing transmutation to wool. Even wild wool presents here and +there a fiber that appears to be in a state of change. In the course of my +examinations of the wild fleeces mentioned above, three fibers were found that +were wool at one end and hair at the other. This, however, does not necessarily +imply imperfection, or any process of change similar to that caused by human +culture. Water lilies contain parts variously developed into stamens at one +end, petals at the other, as the constant and normal condition. These half +wool, half hair fibers may therefore subserve some fixed requirement essential +to the perfection of the whole, or they may simply be the fine boundary-lines +where and exact balance between the wool and the hair is attained. +</p> + +<p> +I have been offering samples of mountain wool to my friends, demanding in +return that the fineness of wildness be fairly recognized and confessed, but +the returns are deplorably tame. The first question asked, is, “Now +truly, wild sheep, wild sheep, have you any wool?” while they peer +curiously down among the hairs through lenses and spectacles. “Yes, wild +sheep, you HAVE wool; but Mary’s lamb had more. In the name of use, how +many wild sheep, think you, would be required to furnish wool sufficient for a +pair of socks?” I endeavor to point out the irrelevancy of the latter +question, arguing that wild wool was not made for man but for sheep, and that, +however deficient as clothing for other animals, it is just the thing for the +brave mountain-dweller that wears it. Plain, however, as all this appears, the +quantity question rises again and again in all its commonplace tameness. For in +my experience it seems well-nigh impossible to obtain a hearing on behalf of +Nature from any other standpoint than that of human use. Domestic flocks yield +more flannel per sheep than the wild, therefore it is claimed that culture has +improved upon wildness; and so it has as far as flannel is concerned, but all +to the contrary as far as a sheep’s dress is concerned. If every wild +sheep inhabiting the Sierra were to put on tame wool, probably only a few would +survive the dangers of a single season. With their fine limbs muffled and +buried beneath a tangle of hairless wool, they would become short-winded, and +fall an easy prey to the strong mountain wolves. In descending precipices they +would be thrown out of balance and killed, by their taggy wool catching upon +sharp points of rocks. Disease would also be brought on by the dirt which +always finds a lodgment in tame wool, and by the draggled and water-soaked +condition into which it falls during stormy weather. +</p> + +<p> +No dogma taught by the present civilization seems to form so insuperable an +obstacle in the way of a right understanding of the relations which culture +sustains to wildness as that which regards the world as made especially for the +uses of man. Every animal, plant, and crystal controverts it in the plainest +terms. Yet it is taught from century to century as something ever new and +precious, and in the resulting darkness the enormous conceit is allowed to go +unchallenged. +</p> + +<p> +I have never yet happened upon a trace of evidence that seemed to show that any +one animal was ever made for another as much as it was made for itself. Not +that Nature manifests any such thing as selfish isolation. In the making of +every animal the presence of every other animal has been recognized. Indeed, +every atom in creation may be said to be acquainted with and married to every +other, but with universal union there is a division sufficient in degree for +the purposes of the most intense individuality; no matter, therefore, what may +be the note which any creature forms in the song of existence, it is made first +for itself, then more and more remotely for all the world and worlds. +</p> + +<p> +Were it not for the exercise of individualizing cares on the part of Nature, +the universe would be felted together like a fleece of tame wool. But we are +governed more than we know, and most when we are wildest. Plants, animals, and +stars are all kept in place, bridled along appointed ways, <i>with</i> one +another, and <i>through the midst</i> of one another—killing and being +killed, eating and being eaten, in harmonious proportions and quantities. And +it is right that we should thus reciprocally make use of one another, rob, +cook, and consume, to the utmost of our healthy abilities and desires. Stars +attract one another as they are able, and harmony results. Wild lambs eat as +many wild flowers as they can find or desire, and men and wolves eat the lambs +to just the same extent. +</p> + +<p> +This consumption of one another in its various modifications is a kind of +culture varying with the degree of directness with which it is carried out, but +we should be careful not to ascribe to such culture any improving qualities +upon those on whom it is brought to bear. The water-ousel plucks moss from the +riverbank to build its nest, but is does not improve the moss by plucking it. +We pluck feathers from birds, and less directly wool from wild sheep, for the +manufacture of clothing and cradle-nests, without improving the wool for the +sheep, or the feathers for the bird that wore them. When a hawk pounces upon a +linnet and proceeds to pull out its feathers, preparatory to making a meal, the +hawk may be said to be cultivating the linnet, and he certainly does effect an +improvement as far as hawk-food is concerned; but what of the songster? He +ceases to be a linnet as soon as he is snatched from the woodland choir; and +when, hawklike, we snatch the wild sheep from its native rock, and, instead of +eating and wearing it at once, carry it home, and breed the hair out of its +wool and the bones out of its body, it ceases to be a sheep. +</p> + +<p> +These breeding and plucking processes are similarly improving as regards the +secondary uses aimed at; and, although the one requires but a few minutes for +its accomplishment, the other many years or centuries, they are essentially +alike. We eat wild oysters alive with great directness, waiting for no +cultivation, and leaving scarce a second of distance between the shell and the +lip; but we take wild sheep home and subject them to the many extended +processes of husbandry, and finish by boiling them in a pot—a process +which completes all sheep improvements as far as man is concerned. It will be +seen, therefore, that wild wool and tame wool—wild sheep and tame +sheep—are terms not properly comparable, nor are they in any correct +sense to be considered as bearing any antagonism toward each other; they are +different things. Planned and accomplished for wholly different purposes. +</p> + +<p> +Illustrative examples bearing upon this interesting subject may be multiplied +indefinitely, for they abound everywhere in the plant and animal kingdoms +wherever culture has reached. Recurring for a moment to apples. The beauty and +completeness of a wild apple tree living its own life in the woods is heartily +acknowledged by all those who have been so happy as to form its acquaintance. +The fine wild piquancy of its fruit is unrivaled, but in the great question of +quantity as human food wild apples are found wanting. Man, therefore, takes the +tree from the woods, manures and prunes and grafts, plans and guesses, adds a +little of this and that, selects and rejects, until apples of every conceivable +size and softness are produced, like nut galls in response to the irritating +punctures of insects. Orchard apples are to me the most eloquent words that +culture has ever spoken, but they reflect no imperfection upon Nature’s +spicy crab. Every cultivated apple is a crab, not improved, <i>but cooked</i>, +variously softened and swelled out in the process, mellowed, sweetened, spiced, +and rendered pulpy and foodful, but as utterly unfit for the uses of nature as +a meadowlark killed and plucked and roasted. Give to Nature every cultured +apple—codling, pippin, russet—and every sheep so laboriously +compounded—muffled Southdowns, hairy Cotswolds, wrinkled +Merinos—and she would throw the one to her caterpillars, the other to her +wolves. +</p> + +<p> +It is now some thirty-six hundred years since Jacob kissed his mother and set +out across the plains of Padan-aram to begin his experiments upon the flocks of +his uncle, Laban; and, notwithstanding the high degree of excellence he +attained as a wool-grower, and the innumerable painstaking efforts subsequently +made by individuals and associations in all kinds of pastures and climates, we +still seem to be as far from definite and satisfactory results as we ever were. +In one breed the wool is apt to wither and crinkle like hay on a sun-beaten +hillside. In another, it is lodged and matted together like the lush tangled +grass of a manured meadow. In one the staple is deficient in length, in another +in fineness; while in all there is a constant tendency toward disease, +rendering various washings and dippings indispensable to prevent its falling +out. The problem of the quality and quantity of the carcass seems to be as +doubtful and as far removed from a satisfactory solution as that of the wool. +Desirable breeds blundered upon by long series of groping experiments are often +found to be unstable and subject to disease—bots, foot rot, blind +staggers, etc.—causing infinite trouble, both among breeders and +manufacturers. Would it not be well, therefore, for some one to go back as far +as possible and take a fresh start? +</p> + +<p> +The source or sources whence the various breeds were derived is not positively +known, but there can be hardly any doubt of their being descendants of the four +or five wild species so generally distributed throughout the mountainous +portions of the globe, the marked differences between the wild and domestic +species being readily accounted for by the known variability of the animal, and +by the long series of painstaking selection to which all its characteristics +have been subjected. No other animal seems to yield so submissively to the +manipulations of culture. Jacob controlled the color of his flocks merely by +causing them to stare at objects of the desired hue; and possibly Merinos may +have caught their wrinkles from the perplexed brows of their breeders. The +California species (<i>Ovis montana</i>)<a href="#linknote-2" +name="linknoteref-2"><sup>[2]</sup></a> is a noble animal, weighing when +full-grown some three hundred and fifty pounds, and is well worthy the +attention of wool-growers as a point from which to make a new departure, for +pure wildness is the one great want, both of men and of sheep. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>II. A Geologist’s Winter Walk<a href="#linknote-3" +name="linknoteref-3"><sup>[3]</sup></a></h2> + +<p> +After reaching Turlock, I sped afoot over the stubble fields and through miles +of brown hemizonia and purple erigeron, to Hopeton, conscious of little more +than that the town was behind and beneath me, and the mountains above and +before me; on through the oaks and chaparral of the foothills to Coulterville; +and then ascended the first great mountain step upon which grows the sugar +pine. Here I slackened pace, for I drank the spicy, resiny wind, and beneath +the arms of this noble tree I felt that I was safely home. Never did pine trees +seem so dear. How sweet was their breath and their song, and how grandly they +winnowed the sky! I tingled my fingers among their tassels, and rustled my feet +among their brown needles and burrs, and was exhilarated and joyful beyond all +I can write. +</p> + +<p> +When I reached Yosemite, all the rocks seemed talkative, and more telling and +lovable than ever. They are dear friends, and seemed to have warm blood gushing +through their granite flesh; and I love them with a love intensified by long +and close companionship. After I had bathed in the bright river, sauntered over +the meadows, conversed with the domes, and played with the pines, I still felt +blurred and weary, as if tainted in some way with the sky of your streets. I +determined, therefore, to run out for a while to say my prayers in the higher +mountain temples. “The days are sunful,” I said, “and, though +now winter, no great danger need be encountered, and no sudden storm will block +my return, if I am watchful.” +</p> + +<p> +The morning after this decision, I started up the cañon of Tenaya, caring +little about the quantity of bread I carried; for, I thought, a fast and a +storm and a difficult cañon were just the medicine I needed. When I passed +Mirror Lake, I scarcely noticed it, for I was absorbed in the great +Tissiack—her crown a mile away in the hushed azure; her purple granite +drapery flowing in soft and graceful folds down to my feet, embroidered +gloriously around with deep, shadowy forest. I have gazed on Tissiack a +thousand times—in days of solemn storms, and when her form shone divine +with the jewelry of winter, or was veiled in living clouds; and I have heard +her voice of winds, and snowy, tuneful waters when floods were falling; yet +never did her soul reveal itself more impressively than now. I hung about her +skirts, lingering timidly, until the higher mountains and glaciers compelled me +to push up the cañon. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus02"></a> +<img src="images/img02.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="TISSIACK" /> +<p class="caption">TISSIACK FROM GLACIER POINT: TENAYA CAÑON ON THE LEFT</p> +</div> + +<p> +This cañon is accessible only to mountaineers, and I was anxious to carry my +barometer and clinometer through it, to obtain sections and altitudes, so I +chose it as the most attractive highway. After I had passed the tall groves +that stretch a mile above Mirror Lake, and scrambled around the Tenaya Fall, +which is just at the head of the lake groves, I crept through the dense and +spiny chaparral that plushes the roots of the mountains here for miles in warm +green, and was ascending a precipitous rock front, smoothed by glacial action, +when I suddenly fell—for the first time since I touched foot to Sierra +rocks. After several somersaults, I became insensible from the shock, and when +consciousness returned I found myself wedged among short, stiff bushes, +trembling as if cold, not injured in the slightest. +</p> + +<p> +Judging by the sun, I could not have been insensible very long; probably not a +minute, possibly an hour; and I could not remember what made me fall, or where +I had fallen from; but I saw that if I had rolled a little further, my mountain +climbing would have been finished, for just beyond the bushes the cañon wall +steepened and I might have fallen to the bottom. “There,” said I, +addressing my feet, to whose separate skill I had learned to trust night and +day on any mountain, “that is what you get by intercourse with stupid +town stairs, and dead pavements.” I felt degraded and worthless. I had +not yet reached the most difficult portion of the cañon, but I determined to +guide my humbled body over the most nerve-trying places I could find; for I was +now awake, and felt confident that the last of the town fog had been shaken +from both head and feet. +</p> + +<p> +I camped at the mouth of a narrow gorge which is cut into the bottom of the +main cañon, determined to take earnest exercise next day. No plushy boughs did +my ill-behaved bones enjoy that night, nor did my bumped head get a spicy cedar +plume pillow mixed with flowers. I slept on a naked boulder, and when I awoke +all my nervous trembling was gone. +</p> + +<p> +The gorged portion of the cañon, in which I spent all the next day, is about a +mile and a half in length; and I passed the time in tracing the action of the +forces that determined this peculiar bottom gorge, which is an abrupt, +ragged-walled, narrow-throated cañon, formed in the bottom of the +wide-mouthed, smooth, and beveled main cañon. I will not stop now to tell you +more; some day you may see it, like a shadowy line, from Cloud’s Rest. In +high water, the stream occupies all the bottom of the gorge, surging and +chafing in glorious power from wall to wall. But the sound of the grinding was +low as I entered the gorge, scarcely hoping to be able to pass through its +entire length. By cool efforts, along glassy, ice-worn slopes, I reached the +upper end in a little over a day, but was compelled to pass the second night in +the gorge, and in the moonlight I wrote you this short pencil-letter in my +notebook:— +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +The moon is looking down into the cañon, and how marvelously the great rocks +kindle to her light! Every dome, and brow, and swelling boss touched by her +white rays, glows as if lighted with snow. I am now only a mile from last +night’s camp; and have been climbing and sketching all day in this +difficult but instructive gorge. It is formed in the bottom of the main cañon, +among the roots of Cloud’s Rest. It begins at the filled-up lake basin +where I camped last night, and ends a few hundred yards above, in another basin +of the same kind. The walls everywhere are craggy and vertical, and in some +places they overlean. It is only from twenty to sixty feet wide, and not, +though black and broken enough, the thin, crooked mouth of some mysterious +abyss; but it was eroded, for in many places I saw its solid, seamless +floor.<br/> + I am sitting on a big stone, against which the stream divides, and goes +brawling by in rapids on both sides; half of my rock is white in the light, +half in shadow. As I look from the opening jaws of this shadowy gorge, South +Dome is immediately in front—high in the stars, her face turned from the +moon, with the rest of her body gloriously muffled in waved folds of granite. +On the left, sculptured from the main Cloud’s Rest ridge, are three +magnificent rocks, sisters of the great South Dome. On the right is the +massive, moonlit front of Mount Watkins, and between, low down in the furthest +distance, is Sentinel Dome, girdled and darkened with forest. In the near +foreground Tenaya Creek is singing against boulders that are white with snow +and moonbeams. Now look back twenty yards, and you will see a waterfall fair as +a spirit; the moonlight just touches it, bringing it into relief against a dark +background of shadow. A little to the left, and a dozen steps this side of the +fall, a flickering light marks my camp—and a precious camp it is. A huge, +glacier-polished slab, falling from the smooth, glossy flank of Cloud’s +Rest, happened to settle on edge against the wall of the gorge. I did not know +that this slab was glacier-polished until I lighted my fire. Judge of my +delight. I think it was sent here by an earthquake. It is about twelve feet +square. I wish I could take it home<a href="#linknote-4" +name="linknoteref-4"><sup>[4]</sup></a> for a hearthstone. Beneath this slab is +the only place in this torrent-swept gorge where I could find sand sufficient +for a bed.<br/> + I expected to sleep on the boulders, for I spent most of the afternoon on +the slippery wall of the cañon, endeavoring to get around this difficult part +of the gorge, and was compelled to hasten down here for water before dark. I +shall sleep soundly on this sand; half of it is mica. Here, wonderful to +behold, are a few green stems of prickly rubus, and a tiny grass. They are here +to meet us. Ay, even here in this darksome gorge, “frightened and +tormented” with raging torrents and choking avalanches of snow. Can it +be? As if rubus and the grass leaf were not enough of God’s tender +prattle words of love, which we so much need in these mighty temples of power, +yonder in the “benmost bore” are two blessed adiantums. Listen to +them! How wholly infused with God is this one big word of love that we call the +world! Good-night. Do you see the fire-glow on my ice-smoothed slab, and on my +two ferns and the rubus and grass panicles? And do you hear how sweet a sleep- +song the fall and cascades are singing? +</p> + +<p> +The water-ground chips and knots that I found fastened between the rocks kept +my fire alive all through the night. Next morning I rose nerved and ready for +another day of sketching and noting, and any form of climbing. I escaped from +the gorge about noon, after accomplishing some of the most delicate feats of +mountaineering I ever attempted; and here the cañon is all broadly open +again—the floor luxuriantly forested with pine, and spruce, and silver +fir, and brown-trunked libocedrus. The walls rise in Yosemite forms, and Tenaya +Creek comes down seven hundred feet in a white brush of foam. This is a little +Yosemite valley. It is about two thousand feet above the level of the main +Yosemite, and about twenty-four hundred below Lake Tenaya. +</p> + +<p> +I found the lake frozen, and the ice was so clear and unruffled that the +surrounding mountains and the groves that look down upon it were reflected +almost as perfectly as I ever beheld them in the calm evening mirrors of +summer. At a little distance, it was difficult to believe the lake frozen at +all; and when I walked out on it, cautiously stamping at short intervals to +test the strength of the ice, I seemed to walk mysteriously, without adequate +faith, on the surface of the water. The ice was so transparent that I could see +through it the beautifully wave-rippled, sandy bottom, and the scales of mica +glinting back the down-pouring light. When I knelt down with my face close to +the ice, through which the sunbeams were pouring, I was delighted to discover +myriads of Tyndall’s six-rayed water flowers, magnificently colored. +</p> + +<p> +A grand old mountain mansion is this Tenaya region! In the glacier period it +was a <i>mer de glace</i>, far grander than the <i>mer de glace</i> of +Switzerland, which is only about half a mile broad. The Tenaya <i>mer de +glace</i> was not less than two miles broad, late in the glacier epoch, when +all the principal dividing crests were bare; and its depth was not less than +fifteen hundred feet. Ice streams from Mounts Lyell and Dana, and all the +mountains between, and from the nearer Cathedral Peak, flowed hither, welded +into one, and worked together. After eroding this Tanaya Lake basin, and all +the splendidly sculptured rocks and mountains that surround and adorn it, and +the great Tenaya Cañon, with its wealth of all that makes mountains sublime, +they were welded with the vast South, Lyell, and Illilouette glaciers on one +side, and with those of Hoffman on the other—thus forming a portion of a +yet grander <i>mer de glace</i> in Yosemite Valley. +</p> + +<p> +I reached the Tenaya Cañon, on my way home, by coming in from the northeast, +rambling down over the shoulders of Mount Watkins, touching bottom a mile above +Mirror Lake. From thence home was but a saunter in the moonlight. +</p> + +<p> +After resting one day, and the weather continuing calm, I ran up over the left +shoulder of South Dome and down in front of its grand split face to make some +measurements, completed my work, climbed to the right shoulder, struck off +along the ridge for Cloud’s Rest, and reached the topmost heave of her +sunny wave in ample time to see the sunset. +</p> + +<p> +Cloud’s Rest is a thousand feet higher than Tissiack. It is a wavelike +crest upon a ridge, which begins at Yosemite with Tissiack, and runs +continuously eastward to the thicket of peaks and crests around Lake Tenaya. +This lofty granite wall is bent this way and that by the restless and weariless +action of glaciers just as if it had been made of dough. But the grand +circumference of mountains and forests are coming from far and near, densing +into one close assemblage; for the sun, their god and father, with love +ineffable, is glowing a sunset farewell. Not one of all the assembled rocks or +trees seemed remote. How impressively their faces shone with responsive love! +</p> + +<p> +I ran home in the moonlight with firm strides; for the sun-love made me strong. +Down through the junipers; down through the firs; now in jet shadows, now in +white light; over sandy moraines and bare, clanking rocks; past the huge ghost +of South Dome rising weird through the firs; past the glorious fall of Nevada, +the groves of Illilouette; through the pines of the valley; beneath the bright +crystal sky blazing with stars. All of this mountain wealth in one +day!—one of the rich ripe days that enlarge one’s life; so much of +the sun upon one side of it, so much of the moon and stars on the other. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>III. Summer Days at Mount Shasta</h2> + +<p> +Mount Shasta rises in solitary grandeur from the edge of a comparatively low +and lightly sculptured lava plain near the northern extremity of the Sierra, +and maintains a far more impressive and commanding individuality than any other +mountain within the limits of California. Go where you may, within a radius of +from fifty to a hundred miles or more, there stands before you the colossal +cone of Shasta, clad in ice and snow, the one grand unmistakable +landmark—the pole star of the landscape. Far to the southward Mount +Whitney lifts its granite summit four or five hundred feet higher than Shasta, +but it is nearly snowless during the late summer, and is so feebly +individualized that the traveler may search for it in vain among the many rival +peaks crowded along the axis of the range to north and south of it, which all +alike are crumbling residual masses brought into relief in the degradation of +the general mass of the range. The highest point on Mount Shasta, as determined +by the State Geological Survey, is 14,440 feet above mean tide. That of +Whitney, computed from fewer observations, is about 14,900 feet. But inasmuch +as the average elevation of the plain out of which Shasta rises is only about +four thousand feet above the sea, while the actual base of the peak of Mount +Whitney lies at an elevation of eleven thousand feet, the individual height of +the former is about two and a half times as great as that of the latter. +</p> + +<p> +Approaching Shasta from the south, one obtains glimpses of its snowy cone here +and there through the trees from the tops of hills and ridges; but it is not +until Strawberry Valley is reached, where there is a grand out-opening of the +forests, that Shasta is seen in all its glory. From base to crown clearly +revealed with its wealth of woods and waters and fountain snow, rejoicing in +the bright mountain sky, and radiating beauty on all the subject landscape like +a sun. Standing in a fringing thicket of purple spiraea in the immediate +foreground is a smooth expanse of green meadow with its meandering stream, one +of the smaller affluents of the Sacramento; then a zone of dark, close forest, +its countless spires of pine and fir rising above one another on the swelling +base of the mountain in glorious array; and, over all, the great white cone +sweeping far into the thin, keen sky—meadow, forest, and grand icy summit +harmoniously blending and making one sublime picture evenly balanced. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus03"></a> +<img src="images/img03.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="MOUNT SHASTA" /> +<p class="caption">MOUNT SHASTA AFTER A SNOWSTORM</p> +</div> + +<p> +The main lines of the landscape are immensely bold and simple, and so regular +that it needs all its shaggy wealth of woods and chaparral and its finely +tinted ice and snow and brown jutting crags to keep it from looking +conventional. In general views of the mountain three distinct zones may be +readily defined. The first, which may be called the Chaparral Zone, extends +around the base in a magnificent sweep nearly a hundred miles in length on its +lower edge, and with a breadth of about seven miles. It is a dense growth of +chaparral from three to six or eight feet high, composed chiefly of manzanita, +cherry, chincapin, and several species of ceanothus, called deerbrush by the +hunters, forming, when in full bloom, one of the most glorious flowerbeds +conceivable. The continuity of this flowery zone is interrupted here and there, +especially on the south side of the mountain, by wide swaths of coniferous +trees, chiefly the sugar and yellow pines, Douglas spruce, silver fir, and +incense cedar, many specimens of which are two hundred feet high and five to +seven feet in diameter. Goldenrods, asters, gilias, lilies, and lupines, with +many other less conspicuous plants, occur in warm sheltered openings in these +lower woods, making charming gardens of wildness where bees and butterflies are +at home and many a shy bird and squirrel. +</p> + +<p> +The next higher is the Fir Zone, made up almost exclusively of two species of +silver fir. It is from two to three miles wide, has an average elevation above +the sea of some six thousand feet on its lower edge and eight thousand on its +upper, and is the most regular and best defined of the three. +</p> + +<p> +The Alpine Zone has a rugged, straggling growth of storm-beaten dwarf pines +(<i>Pinus albicaulis</i>), which forms the upper edge of the timberline. This +species reaches an elevation of about nine thousand feet, but at this height +the tops of the trees rise only a few feet into the thin frosty air, and are +closely pressed and shorn by wind and snow; yet they hold on bravely and put +forth an abundance of beautiful purple flowers and produce cones and seeds. +Down towards the edge of the fir belt they stand erect, forming small, +well-formed trunks, and are associated with the taller two-leafed and mountain +pines and the beautiful Williamson spruce. Bryanthus, a beautiful flowering +heathwort, flourishes a few hundred feet above the timberline, accompanied with +kalmia and spiraea. Lichens enliven the faces of the cliffs with their bright +colors, and in some of the warmer nooks of the rocks, up to a height of eleven +thousand feet, there are a few tufts of dwarf daisies, wallflowers, and +penstemons; but, notwithstanding these bloom freely, they make no appreciable +show at a distance, and the stretches of rough brown lava beyond the +storm-beaten trees seem as bare of vegetation as the great snow fields and +glaciers of the summit. +</p> + +<p> +Shasta is a fire-mountain, an old volcano gradually accumulated and built up +into the blue deep of the sky by successive eruptions of ashes and molten lava +which, shot high in the air and falling in darkening showers, and flowing from +chasms and craters, grew outward and upward like the trunk of a knotty, bulging +tree. Not in one grand convulsion was Shasta given birth, nor in any one +special period of volcanic storm and stress, though mountains more than a +thousand feet in height have been cast up like molehills in a night—quick +contributions to the wealth of the landscapes, and most emphatic statements, on +the part of Nature, of the gigantic character of the power that dwells beneath +the dull, dead-looking surface of the earth. But sections cut by the glaciers, +displaying some of the internal framework of Shasta, show that comparatively +long periods of quiescence intervened between many distinct eruptions, during +which the cooling lavas ceased to flow, and took their places as permanent +additions to the bulk of the growing mountain. Thus with alternate haste and +deliberation eruption succeeded eruption, until Mount Shasta surpassed even its +present sublime height. +</p> + +<p> +Then followed a strange contrast. The glacial winter came on. The sky that so +often had been darkened with storms of cinders and ashes and lighted by the +glare of volcanic fires was filled with crystal snow-flowers, which, loading +the cooling mountain, gave birth to glaciers that, uniting edge to edge, at +length formed one grand conical glacier—a down-crawling mantle of ice +upon a fountain of smouldering fire, crushing and grinding its brown, flinty +lavas, and thus degrading and remodeling the entire mountain from summit to +base. How much denudation and degradation has been effected we have no means of +determining, the porous, crumbling rocks being ill adapted for the reception +and preservation of glacial inscriptions. +</p> + +<p> +The summit is now a mass of ruins, and all the finer striations have been +effaced from the flanks by post-glacial weathering, while the irregularity of +its lavas as regards susceptibility to erosion, and the disturbance caused by +inter- and post-glacial eruptions, have obscured or obliterated those heavier +characters of the glacial record found so clearly inscribed upon the granite +pages of the high Sierra between latitude 36 degrees 30 minutes and 39 degrees. +This much, however, is plain: that the summit of the mountain was considerably +lowered, and the sides were deeply grooved and fluted while it was a center of +dispersal for the glaciers of the circumjacent region. And when at length the +glacial period began to draw near its close, the ice mantle was gradually +melted off around the base of the mountain, and in receding and breaking up +into its present fragmentary condition the irregular heaps and rings of moraine +matter were stored upon its flanks on which the forests are growing. The +glacial erosion of most of the Shasta lavas gives rise to detritus composed of +rough subangular boulders of moderate size and porous gravel and sand, which +yields freely to the transporting power of running water. Several centuries ago +immense quantities of this lighter material were washed down from the higher +slopes by a flood of extraordinary magnitude, caused probably by the sudden +melting of the ice and snow during an eruption, giving rise to the deposition +of conspicuous delta-like beds around the base. And it is upon these flood-beds +of moraine soil, thus suddenly and simultaneously laid down and joined edge to +edge, that the flowery chaparral is growing. +</p> + +<p> +Thus, by forces seemingly antagonistic and destructive, Nature accomplishes her +beneficent designs—now a flood of fire, now a flood of ice, now a flood +of water; and again in the fullness of time an outburst of organic +life—forest and garden, with all their wealth of fruit and flowers, the +air stirred into one universal hum with rejoicing insects, a milky way of wings +and petals, girdling the newborn mountain like a cloud, as if the vivifying +sunbeams beating against its sides had broken into a foam of plant-bloom and +bees. +</p> + +<p> +But with such grand displays as Nature is making here, how grand are her +reservations, bestowed only upon those who devotedly seek them! Beneath the +smooth and snowy surface the fountain fires are still aglow, to blaze forth +afresh at their appointed times. The glaciers, looking so still and small at a +distance, represented by the artist with a patch of white paint laid on by a +single stroke of his brush, are still flowing onward, unhalting, with deep +crystal currents, sculpturing the mountain with stern, resistless energy. How +many caves and fountains that no eye has yet seen lie with all their fine +furniture deep down in the darkness, and how many shy wild creatures are at +home beneath the grateful lights and shadows of the woods, rejoicing in their +fullness of perfect life! +</p> + +<p> +Standing on the edge of the Strawberry Meadows in the sun-days of summer, not a +foot or feather or leaf seems to stir; and the grand, towering mountain with +all its inhabitants appears in rest, calm as a star. Yet how profound is the +energy ever in action, and how great is the multitude of claws and teeth, wings +and eyes, wide awake and at work and shining! Going into the blessed +wilderness, the blood of the plants throbbing beneath the life-giving sunshine +seems to be heard and felt; plant growth goes on before our eyes, and every +tree and bush and flower is seen as a hive of restless industry. The deeps of +the sky are mottled with singing wings of every color and tone—clouds of +brilliant chrysididae dancing and swirling in joyous rhythm, golden-barred +vespidae, butterflies, grating cicadas and jolly rattling +grasshoppers—fairly enameling the light, and shaking all the air into +music. Happy fellows they are, every one of them, blowing tiny pipe and +trumpet, plodding and prancing, at work or at play. +</p> + +<p> +Though winter holds the summit, Shasta in summer is mostly a massy, bossy mound +of flowers colored like the alpenglow that flushes the snow. There are miles of +wild roses, pink bells of huckleberry and sweet manzanita, every bell a +honey-cup, plants that tell of the north and of the south; tall nodding lilies, +the crimson sarcodes, rhododendron, cassiope, and blessed linnaea; phlox, +calycanthus, plum, cherry, crataegus, spiraea, mints, and clovers in endless +variety; ivesia, larkspur, and columbine; golden aplopappus, linosyris<a +href="#linknote-5" name="linknoteref-5"><sup>[5]</sup></a>, bahia, wyethia, +arnica, brodiaea, etc.,—making sheets and beds of light edgings of bloom +in lavish abundance for the myriads of the air dependent on their bounty. +</p> + +<p> +The common honeybees, gone wild in this sweet wilderness, gather tons of honey +into the hollows of the trees and rocks, clambering eagerly through bramble and +hucklebloom, shaking the clustered bells of the generous manzanita, now humming +aloft among polleny willows and firs, now down on the ashy ground among small +gilias and buttercups, and anon plunging into banks of snowy cherry and +buckthorn. They consider the lilies and roll into them, pushing their blunt +polleny faces against them like babies on their mother’s bosom; and +fondly, too, with eternal love does Mother Nature clasp her small bee-babies +and suckle them, multitudes at once, on her warm Shasta breast. Besides the +common honeybee there are many others here, fine, burly, mossy fellows, such as +were nourished on the mountains many a flowery century before the advent of the +domestic species—bumblebees, mason-bees, carpenter-bees, and +leaf-cutters. Butterflies, too, and moths of every size and pattern; some +wide-winged like bats, flapping slowly and sailing in easy curves; others like +small flying violets shaking about loosely in short zigzag flights close to the +flowers, feasting in plenty night and day. +</p> + +<p> +Deer in great abundance come to Shasta from the warmer foothills every spring +to feed in the rich, cool pastures, and bring forth their young in the +ceanothus tangles of the chaparral zone, retiring again before the snowstorms +of winter, mostly to the southward and westward of the mountain. In like manner +the wild sheep of the adjacent region seek the lofty inaccessible crags of the +summit as the snow melts, and are driven down to the lower spurs and ridges +where there is but little snow, to the north and east of Shasta. +</p> + +<p> +Bears, too, roam this foodful wilderness, feeding on grass, clover, berries, +nuts, ant eggs, fish, flesh, or fowl,—whatever comes in their +way,—with but little troublesome discrimination. Sugar and honey they +seem to like best of all, and they seek far to find the sweets; but when hard +pushed by hunger they make out to gnaw a living from the bark of trees and +rotten logs, and might almost live on clean lava alone. +</p> + +<p> +Notwithstanding the California bears have had as yet but little experience with +honeybees, they sometimes succeed in reaching the bountiful stores of these +industrious gatherers and enjoy the feast with majestic relish. But most +honeybees in search of a home are wise enough to make choice of a hollow in a +living tree far from the ground, whenever such can be found. There they are +pretty secure, for though the smaller brown and black bears climb well, they +are unable to gnaw their way into strong hives, while compelled to exert +themselves to keep from falling and at the same time endure the stings of the +bees about the nose and eyes, without having their paws free to brush them off. +But woe to the unfortunates who dwell in some prostrate trunk, and to the black +bumblebees discovered in their mossy, mouselike nests in the ground. With +powerful teeth and claws these are speedily laid bare, and almost before time +is given for a general buzz the bees, old and young, larvae, honey, stings, +nest, and all, are devoured in one ravishing revel. +</p> + +<p> +The antelope may still be found in considerable numbers to the northeastward of +Shasta, but the elk, once abundant, have almost entirely gone from the region. +The smaller animals, such as the wolf, the various foxes, wildcats, coon, +squirrels, and the curious wood rat that builds large brush huts, abound in all +the wilder places; and the beaver, otter, mink, etc., may still be found along +the sources of the rivers. The blue grouse and mountain quail are plentiful in +the woods and the sage-hen on the plains about the northern base of the +mountain, while innumerable smaller birds enliven and sweeten every thicket and +grove. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +There are at least five classes of human inhabitants about the Shasta region: +the Indians, now scattered, few in numbers and miserably demoralized, though +still offering some rare specimens of savage manhood; miners and prospectors, +found mostly to the north and west of the mountain, since the region about its +base is overflowed with lava; cattle-raisers, mostly on the open plains to the +northeastward and around the Klamath Lakes; hunters and trappers, where the +woods and waters are wildest; and farmers, in Shasta Valley on the north side +of the mountain, wheat, apples, melons, berries, all the best production of +farm and garden growing and ripening there at the foot of the great white cone, +which seems at times during changing storms ready to fall upon them—the +most sublime farm scenery imaginable. +</p> + +<p> +The Indians of the McCloud River that have come under my observation differ +considerably in habits and features from the Diggers and other tribes of the +foothills and plains, and also from the Pah Utes and Modocs. They live chiefly +on salmon. They seem to be closely related to the Tlingits of Alaska, +Washington, and Oregon, and may readily have found their way here by passing +from stream to stream in which salmon abound. They have much better features +than the Indians of the plains, and are rather wide awake, speculative and +ambitious in their way, and garrulous, like the natives of the northern coast. +</p> + +<p> +Before the Modoc War they lived in dread of the Modocs, a tribe living about +the Klamath Lake and the Lava Beds, who were in the habit of crossing the low +Sierra divide past the base of Shasta on freebooting excursions, stealing +wives, fish, and weapons from the Pitts and McClouds. Mothers would hush their +children by telling them that the Modocs would catch them. +</p> + +<p> +During my stay at the Government fish-hatching station on the McCloud I was +accompanied in my walks along the riverbank by a McCloud boy about ten years of +age, a bright, inquisitive fellow, who gave me the Indian names of the birds +and plants that we met. The water-ousel he knew well and he seemed to like the +sweet singer, which he called “Sussinny.” He showed me how strips +of the stems of the beautiful maidenhair fern were used to adorn baskets with +handsome brown bands, and pointed out several plants good to eat, particularly +the large saxifrage growing abundantly along the river margin. Once I rushed +suddenly upon him to see if he would be frightened; but he unflinchingly held +his ground, struck a grand heroic attitude, and shouted, “Me no fraid; me +Modoc!” +</p> + +<p> +Mount Shasta, so far as I have seen, has never been the home of Indians, not +even their hunting ground to any great extent, above the lower slopes of the +base. They are said to be afraid of fire-mountains and geyser basins as being +the dwelling places of dangerously powerful and unmanageable gods. However, it +is food and their relations to other tribes that mainly control the movements +of Indians; and here their food was mostly on the lower slopes, with nothing +except the wild sheep to tempt them higher. Even these were brought within +reach without excessive climbing during the storms of winter. +</p> + +<p> +On the north side of Shasta, near Sheep Rock, there is a long cavern, sloping +to the northward, nearly a mile in length, thirty or forty feet wide, and fifty +feet or more in height, regular in form and direction like a railroad tunnel, +and probably formed by the flowing away of a current of lava after the +hardening of the surface. At the mouth of this cave, where the light and +shelter is good, I found many of the heads and horns of the wild sheep, and the +remains of campfires, no doubt those of Indian hunters who in stormy weather +had camped there and feasted after the fatigues of the chase. A wild picture +that must have formed on a dark night—the glow of the fire, the circle of +crouching savages around it seen through the smoke, the dead game, and the +weird darkness and half-darkness of the walls of the cavern, a picture of +cave-dwellers at home in the stone age! +</p> + +<p> +Interest in hunting is almost universal, so deeply is it rooted as an inherited +instinct ever ready to rise and make itself known. Fine scenery may not stir a +fiber of mind or body, but how quick and how true is the excitement of the +pursuit of game! Then up flames the slumbering volcano of ancient wildness, all +that has been done by church and school through centuries of cultivation is for +the moment destroyed, and the decent gentleman or devout saint becomes a +howling, bloodthirsty, demented savage. It is not long since we all were +cavemen and followed game for food as truly as wildcat or wolf, and the long +repression of civilization seems to make the rebound to savage love of blood +all the more violent. This frenzy, fortunately, does not last long in its most +exaggerated form, and after a season of wildness refined gentlemen from cities +are not more cruel than hunters and trappers who kill for a living. +</p> + +<p> +Dwelling apart in the depths of the woods are the various kinds of +mountaineers,—hunters, prospectors, and the like,—rare men, +“queer characters,” and well worth knowing. Their cabins are +located with reference to game and the ledges to be examined, and are +constructed almost as simply as those of the wood rats made of sticks laid +across each other without compass or square. But they afford good shelter from +storms, and so are “square” with the need of their builders. These +men as a class are singularly fine in manners, though their faces may be +scarred and rough like the bark of trees. On entering their cabins you will +promptly be placed on your good behavior, and, your wants being perceived with +quick insight, complete hospitality will be offered for body and mind to the +extent of the larder. +</p> + +<p> +These men know the mountains far and near, and their thousand voices, like the +leaves of a book. They can tell where the deer may be found at any time of year +or day, and what they are doing; and so of all the other furred and feathered +people they meet in their walks; and they can send a thought to its mark as +well as a bullet. The aims of such people are not always the highest, yet how +brave and manly and clean are their lives compared with too many in crowded +towns mildewed and dwarfed in disease and crime! How fine a chance is here to +begin life anew in the free fountains and skylands of Shasta, where it is so +easy to live and to die! The future of the hunter is likely to be a good one; +no abrupt change about it, only a passing from wilderness to wilderness, from +one high place to another. +</p> + +<p> +Now that the railroad has been built up the Sacramento, everybody with money +may go to Mount Shasta, the weak as well as the strong, fine-grained, succulent +people, whose legs have never ripened, as well as sinewy mountaineers seasoned +long in the weather. This, surely, is not the best way of going to the +mountains, yet it is better than staying below. Many still small voices will +not be heard in the noisy rush and din, suggestive of going to the sky in a +chariot of fire or a whirlwind, as one is shot to the Shasta mark in a booming +palace-car cartridge; up the rocky cañon, skimming the foaming river, above +the level reaches, above the dashing spray—fine exhilarating translation, +yet a pity to go so fast in a blur, where so much might be seen and enjoyed. +</p> + +<p> +The mountains are fountains not only of rivers and fertile soil, but of men. +Therefore we are all, in some sense, mountaineers, and going to the mountains +is going home. Yet how many are doomed to toil in town shadows while the white +mountains beckon all along the horizon! Up the cañon to Shasta would be a cure +for all care. But many on arrival seem at a loss to know what to do with +themselves, and seek shelter in the hotel, as if that were the Shasta they had +come for. Others never leave the rail, content with the window views, and cling +to the comforts of the sleeping car like blind mice to their mothers. Many are +sick and have been dragged to the healing wilderness unwillingly for body-good +alone. Were the parts of the human machine detachable like Yankee inventions, +how strange would be the gatherings on the mountains of pieces of people out of +repair! +</p> + +<p> +How sadly unlike the whole-hearted ongoing of the seeker after gold is this +partial, compulsory mountaineering!—as if the mountain treasuries +contained nothing better than gold! Up the mountains they go, high-heeled and +high-hatted, laden like Christian with mortifications and mortgages of divers +sorts and degrees, some suffering from the sting of bad bargains, others +exulting in good ones; hunters and fishermen with gun and rod and leggins; +blythe and jolly troubadours to whom all Shasta is romance; poets singing their +prayers; the weak and the strong, unable or unwilling to bear mental taxation. +But, whatever the motive, all will be in some measure benefited. None may +wholly escape the good of Nature, however imperfectly exposed to her blessings. +The minister will not preach a perfectly flat and sedimentary sermon after +climbing a snowy peak; and the fair play and tremendous impartiality of Nature, +so tellingly displayed, will surely affect the after pleadings of the lawyer. +Fresh air at least will get into everybody, and the cares of mere business will +be quenched like the fires of a sinking ship. +</p> + +<p> +Possibly a branch railroad may some time be built to the summit of Mount Shasta +like the road on Mount Washington. In the mean time tourists are dropped at +Sisson’s, about twelve miles from the summit, whence as headquarters they +radiate in every direction to the so-called “points of interest”; +sauntering about the flowery fringes of the Strawberry Meadows, bathing in the +balm of the woods, scrambling, fishing, hunting; riding about Castle Lake, the +McCloud River, Soda Springs, Big Spring, deer pastures, and elsewhere. Some +demand bears, and make excited inquiries concerning their haunts, how many +there might be altogether on the mountain, and whether they are grizzly, brown, +or black. Others shout, “Excelsior,” and make off at once for the +upper snow fields. Most, however, are content with comparatively level ground +and moderate distances, gathering at the hotel every evening laden with +trophies—great sheaves of flowers, cones of various trees, cedar and fir +branches covered with yellow lichens, and possibly a fish or two, or quail, or +grouse. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus04"></a> +<img src="images/img04.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="SODA SPRINGS" /> +<p class="caption">AT SHASTA SODA SPRINGS</p> +</div> + +<p> +But the heads of deer, antelope, wild sheep, and bears are conspicuously rare +or altogether wanting in tourist collections in the “paradise of +hunters.” There is a grand comparing of notes and adventures. Most are +exhilarated and happy, though complaints may occasionally be +heard—“The mountain does not look so very high after all, nor so +very white; the snow is in patches like rags spread out to dry,” +reminding one of Sydney Smith’s joke against Jeffrey, “D—n +the Solar System; bad light, planets too indistinct.” But far the greater +number are in good spirits, showing the influence of holiday enjoyment and +mountain air. Fresh roses come to cheeks that long have been pale, and +sentiment often begins to blossom under the new inspiration. +</p> + +<p> +The Shasta region may be reserved as a national park, with special reference to +the preservation of its fine forests and game. This should by all means be +done; but, as far as game is concerned, it is in little danger from tourists, +notwithstanding many of them carry guns, and are in some sense hunters. Going +in noisy groups, and with guns so shining, they are oftentimes confronted by +inquisitive Douglas squirrels, and are thus given opportunities for shooting; +but the larger animals retire at their approach and seldom are seen. Other gun +people, too wise or too lifeless to make much noise, move slowly along the +trails and about the open spots of the woods, like benumbed beetles in a +snowdrift. Such hunters are themselves hunted by the animals, which in perfect +safety follow them out of curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +During the bright days of midsummer the ascent of Shasta is only a long, safe +saunter, without fright or nerve strain, or even serious fatigue, to those in +sound health. Setting out from Sisson’s on horseback, accompanied by a +guide leading a pack animal with provision, blankets, and other necessaries, +you follow a trail that leads up to the edge of the timberline, where you camp +for the night, eight or ten miles from the hotel, at an elevation of about ten +thousand feet. The next day, rising early, you may push on to the summit and +return to Sisson’s. But it is better to spend more time in the enjoyment +of the grand scenery on the summit and about the head of the Whitney Glacier, +pass the second night in camp, and return to Sisson’s on the third day. +Passing around the margin of the meadows and on through the zones of the +forest, you will have good opportunities to get ever-changing views of the +mountain and its wealth of creatures that bloom and breathe. +</p> + +<p> +The woods differ but little from those that clothe the mountains to the +southward, the trees being slightly closer together and generally not quite so +large, marking the incipient change from the open sunny forests of the Sierra +to the dense damp forests of the northern coast, where a squirrel may travel in +the branches of the thick-set trees hundreds of miles without touching the +ground. Around the upper belt of the forest you may see gaps where the ground +has been cleared by avalanches of snow, thousands of tons in weight, which, +descending with grand rush and roar, brush the trees from their paths like so +many fragile shrubs or grasses. +</p> + +<p> +At first the ascent is very gradual. The mountain begins to leave the plain in +slopes scarcely perceptible, measuring from two to three degrees. These are +continued by easy gradations mile after mile all the way to the truncated, +crumbling summit, where they attain a steepness of twenty to twenty-five +degrees. The grand simplicity of these lines is partially interrupted on the +north subordinate cone that rises from the side of the main cone about three +thousand feet from the summit. This side cone, past which your way to the +summit lies, was active after the breaking-up of the main ice-cap of the +glacial period, as shown by the comparatively unwasted crater in which it +terminates and by streams of fresh-looking, unglaciated lava that radiate from +it as a center. +</p> + +<p> +The main summit is about a mile and a half in diameter from southwest to +northeast, and is nearly covered with snow and <i>névé</i>, bounded by +crumbling peaks and ridges, among which we look in vain for any sure plan of an +ancient crater. The extreme summit is situated on the southern end of a narrow +ridge that bounds the general summit on the east. Viewed from the north, it +appears as an irregular blunt point about ten feet high, and is fast +disappearing before the stormy atmospheric action to which it is subjected. +</p> + +<p> +At the base of the eastern ridge, just below the extreme summit, hot sulphurous +gases and vapor escape with a hissing, bubbling noise from a fissure in the +lava. Some of the many small vents cast up a spray of clear hot water, which +falls back repeatedly until wasted in vapor. The steam and spray seem to be +produced simply by melting snow coming in the way of the escaping gases, while +the gases are evidently derived from the heated interior of the mountain, and +may be regarded as the last feeble expression of the mighty power that lifted +the entire mass of the mountain from the volcanic depths far below the surface +of the plain. +</p> + +<p> +The view from the summit in clear weather extends to an immense distance in +every direction. Southeastward, the low volcanic portion of the Sierra is seen +like a map, both flanks as well as the crater-dotted axis, as far as +Lassen’s Butte<a href="#linknote-6" +name="linknoteref-6"><sup>[6]</sup></a>, a prominent landmark and an old +volcano like Shasta, between ten and eleven thousand feet high, and distant +about sixty miles. Some of the higher summit peaks near Independence Lake, one +hundred and eighty miles away, are at times distinctly visible. Far to the +north, in Oregon, the snowy volcanic cones of Mounts Pitt, Jefferson, and the +Three Sisters rise in clear relief, like majestic monuments, above the dim dark +sea of the northern woods. To the northeast lie the Rhett and Klamath Lakes, +the Lava Beds, and a grand display of hill and mountain and gray rocky plains. +The Scott, Siskiyou, and Trinity Mountains rise in long, compact waves to the +west and southwest, and the valley of the Sacramento and the coast mountains, +with their marvelous wealth of woods and waters, are seen; while close around +the base of the mountain lie the beautiful Shasta Valley, Strawberry Valley, +Huckleberry Valley, and many others, with the headwaters of the Shasta, +Sacramento, and McCloud Rivers. Some observers claim to have seen the ocean +from the summit of Shasta, but I have not yet been so fortunate. +</p> + +<p> +The Cinder Cone near Lassen’s Butte is remarkable as being the scene of +the most recent volcanic eruption in the range. It is a symmetrical truncated +cone covered with gray cinders and ashes, with a regular crater in which a few +pines an inch or two in diameter are growing. It stands between two small lakes +which previous to the last eruption, when the cone was built, formed one lake. +From near the base of the cone a flood of extremely rough black vesicular lava +extends across what was once a portion of the bottom of the lake into the +forest of yellow pine. +</p> + +<p> +This lava flow seems to have been poured out during the same eruption that gave +birth to the cone, cutting the lake in two, flowing a little way into the woods +and overwhelming the trees in its way, the ends of some of the charred trunks +still being visible, projecting from beneath the advanced snout of the flow +where it came to rest; while the floor of the forest for miles around is so +thickly strewn with loose cinders that walking is very fatiguing. The Pitt +River Indians tell of a fearful time of darkness, probably due to this +eruption, when the sky was filled with falling cinders which, as they thought, +threatened every living creature with destruction, and say that when at length +the sun appeared through the gloom it was red like blood. +</p> + +<p> +Less recent craters in great numbers dot the adjacent region, some with lakes +in their throats, some overgrown with trees, others nearly bare—telling +monuments of Nature’s mountain fires so often lighted throughout the +northern Sierra. And, standing on the top of icy Shasta, the mightiest +fire-monument of them all, we can hardly fail to look forward to the blare and +glare of its next eruption and wonder whether it is nigh. Elsewhere men have +planted gardens and vineyards in the craters of volcanoes quiescent for ages, +and almost without warning have been hurled into the sky. More than a thousand +years of profound calm have been known to intervene between two violent +eruptions. Seventeen centuries intervened between two consecutive eruptions on +the island of Ischia. Few volcanoes continue permanently in eruption. Like +gigantic geysers, spouting hot stone instead of hot water, they work and sleep, +and we have no sure means of knowing whether they are only sleeping or dead. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>IV. A Perilous Night on Shasta’s Summit</h2> + +<p> +Toward the end of summer, after a light, open winter, one may reach the summit +of Mount Shasta without passing over much snow, by keeping on the crest of a +long narrow ridge, mostly bare, that extends from near the camp-ground at the +timberline. But on my first excursion to the summit the whole mountain, down to +its low swelling base, was smoothly laden with loose fresh snow, presenting a +most glorious mass of winter mountain scenery, in the midst of which I +scrambled and reveled or lay snugly snowbound, enjoying the fertile clouds and +the snow-bloom in all their growing, drifting grandeur. +</p> + +<p> +I had walked from Redding, sauntering leisurely from station to station along +the old Oregon stage road, the better to see the rocks and plants, birds and +people, by the way, tracing the rushing Sacramento to its fountains around icy +Shasta. The first rains had fallen on the lowlands, and the first snows on the +mountains, and everything was fresh and bracing, while an abundance of balmy +sunshine filled all the noonday hours. It was the calm afterglow that usually +succeeds the first storm of the winter. I met many of the birds that had reared +their young and spent their summer in the Shasta woods and chaparral. They were +then on their way south to their winter homes, leading their young full-fledged +and about as large and strong as the parents. Squirrels, dry and elastic after +the storms, were busy about their stores of pine nuts, and the latest +goldenrods were still in bloom, though it was now past the middle of October. +The grand color glow—the autumnal jubilee of ripe leaves—was past +prime, but, freshened by the rain, was still making a fine show along the banks +of the river and in the ravines and the dells of the smaller streams. +</p> + +<p> +At the salmon-hatching establishment on the McCloud River I halted a week to +examine the limestone belt, grandly developed there, to learn what I could of +the inhabitants of the river and its banks, and to give time for the fresh snow +that I knew had fallen on the mountain to settle somewhat, with a view to +making the ascent. A pedestrian on these mountain roads, especially so late in +the year, is sure to excite curiosity, and many were the interrogations +concerning my ramble. When I said that I was simply taking a walk, and that icy +Shasta was my mark, I was invariably admonished that I had come on a dangerous +quest. The time was far too late, the snow was too loose and deep to climb, and +I should be lost in drifts and slides. When I hinted that new snow was +beautiful and storms not so bad as they were called, my advisers shook their +heads in token of superior knowledge and declared the ascent of “Shasta +Butte” through loose snow impossible. Nevertheless, before noon of the +second of November I was in the frosty azure of the utmost summit. +</p> + +<p> +When I arrived at Sisson’s everything was quiet. The last of the summer +visitors had flitted long before, and the deer and bears also were beginning to +seek their winter homes. My barometer and the sighing winds and filmy +half-transparent clouds that dimmed the sunshine gave notice of the approach of +another storm, and I was in haste to be off and get myself established +somewhere in the midst of it, whether the summit was to be attained or not. +Sisson, who is a mountaineer, speedily fitted me out for storm or calm as only +a mountaineer could, with warm blankets and a week’s provisions so +generous in quantity and kind that they easily might have been made to last a +month in case of my being closely snowbound. Well I knew the weariness of +snow-climbing, and the frosts, and the dangers of mountaineering so late in the +year; therefore I could not ask a guide to go with me, even had one been +willing. All I wanted was to have blankets and provisions deposited as far up +in the timber as the snow would permit a pack animal to go. There I could build +a storm nest and lie warm, and make raids up and around the mountain in +accordance with the weather. +</p> + +<p> +Setting out on the afternoon of November first, with Jerome Fay, mountaineer +and guide, in charge of the animals, I was soon plodding wearily upward through +the muffled winter woods, the snow of course growing steadily deeper and +looser, so that we had to break a trail. The animals began to get discouraged, +and after night and darkness came on they became entangled in a bed of rough +lava, where, breaking through four or five feet of mealy snow, their feet were +caught between angular boulders. Here they were in danger of being lost, but +after we had removed packs and saddles and assisted their efforts with ropes, +they all escaped to the side of a ridge about a thousand feet below the +timberline. +</p> + +<p> +To go farther was out of the question, so we were compelled to camp as best we +could. A pitch pine fire speedily changed the temperature and shed a blaze of +light on the wild lava-slope and the straggling storm-bent pines around us. +Melted snow answered for coffee, and we had plenty of venison to roast. Toward +midnight I rolled myself in my blankets, slept an hour and a half, arose and +ate more venison, tied two days’ provisions to my belt, and set out for +the summit, hoping to reach it ere the coming storm should fall. Jerome +accompanied me a little distance above camp and indicated the way as well as he +could in the darkness. He seemed loath to leave me, but, being reassured that I +was at home and required no care, he bade me good-bye and returned to camp, +ready to lead his animals down the mountain at daybreak. +</p> + +<p> +After I was above the dwarf pines, it was fine practice pushing up the broad +unbroken slopes of snow, alone in the solemn silence of the night. Half the sky +was clouded; in the other half the stars sparkled icily in the keen, frosty +air; while everywhere the glorious wealth of snow fell away from the summit of +the cone in flowing folds, more extensive and continuous than any I had ever +seen before. When day dawned the clouds were crawling slowly and becoming more +massive, but gave no intimation of immediate danger, and I pushed on +faithfully, though holding myself well in hand, ready to return to the timber; +for it was easy to see that the storm was not far off. The mountain rises ten +thousand feet above the general level of the country, in blank exposure to the +deep upper currents of the sky, and no labyrinth of peaks and cañons I had +ever been in seemed to me so dangerous as these immense slopes, bare against +the sky. +</p> + +<p> +The frost was intense, and drifting snow dust made breathing at times rather +difficult. The snow was as dry as meal, and the finer particles drifted freely, +rising high in the air, while the larger portions of the crystals rolled like +sand. I frequently sank to my armpits between buried blocks of loose lava, but +generally only to my knees. When tired with walking I still wallowed slowly +upward on all fours. The steepness of the slope—thirty-five degrees in +some places—made any kind of progress fatiguing, while small avalanches +were being constantly set in motion in the steepest places. But the bracing air +and the sublime beauty of the snowy expanse thrilled every nerve and made +absolute exhaustion impossible. I seemed to be walking and wallowing in a +cloud; but, holding steadily onward, by half-past ten o’clock I had +gained the highest summit. +</p> + +<p> +I held my commanding foothold in the sky for two hours, gazing on the glorious +landscapes spread maplike around the immense horizon, and tracing the outlines +of the ancient lava-streams extending far into the surrounding plains, and the +pathways of vanished glaciers of which Shasta had been the center. But, as I +had left my coat in camp for the sake of having my limbs free in climbing, I +soon was cold. The wind increased in violence, raising the snow in magnificent +drifts that were drawn out in the form of wavering banners blowing in the sun. +Toward the end of my stay a succession of small clouds struck against the +summit rocks like drifting icebergs, darkening the air as they passed, and +producing a chill as definite and sudden as if ice-water had been dashed in my +face. This is the kind of cloud in which snow-flowers grow, and I turned and +fled. +</p> + +<p> +Finding that I was not closely pursued, I ventured to take time on the way down +for a visit to the head of the Whitney Glacier and the “Crater +Butte.” After I had reached the end of the main summit ridge the descent +was but little more than one continuous soft, mealy, muffled slide, most +luxurious and rapid, though the hissing, swishing speed attained was obscured +in great part by flying snow dust—a marked contrast to the boring +seal-wallowing upward struggle. I reached camp about an hour before dusk, +hollowed a strip of loose ground in the lee of a large block of red lava, where +firewood was abundant, rolled myself in my blankets, and went to sleep. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning, having slept little the night before the ascent and being weary +with climbing after the excitement was over, I slept late. Then, awaking +suddenly, my eyes opened on one of the most beautiful and sublime scenes I ever +enjoyed. A boundless wilderness of storm clouds of different degrees of +ripeness were congregated over all the lower landscape for thousands of square +miles, colored gray, and purple, and pearl, and deep-glowing white, amid which +I seemed to be floating; while the great white cone of the mountain above was +all aglow in the free, blazing sunshine. It seemed not so much an ocean as a +land of clouds—undulating hill and dale, smooth purple plains, and +silvery mountains of cumuli, range over range, diversified with peak and dome +and hollow fully brought out in light and shade. +</p> + +<p> +I gazed enchanted, but cold gray masses, drifting like dust on a wind-swept +plain, began to shut out the light, forerunners of the coming storm I had been +so anxiously watching. I made haste to gather as much wood as possible, +snugging it as a shelter around my bed. The storm side of my blankets was +fastened down with stakes to reduce as much as possible the sifting-in of drift +and the danger of being blown away. The precious bread sack was placed safely +as a pillow, and when at length the first flakes fell I was exultingly ready to +welcome them. Most of my firewood was more than half rosin and would blaze in +the face of the fiercest drifting; the winds could not demolish my bed, and my +bread could be made to last indefinitely; while in case of need I had the means +of making snowshoes and could retreat or hold my ground as I pleased. +</p> + +<p> +Presently the storm broke forth into full snowy bloom, and the thronging +crystals darkened the air. The wind swept past in hissing floods, grinding the +snow into meal and sweeping down into the hollows in enormous drifts all the +heavier particles, while the finer dust was sifted through the sky, increasing +the icy gloom. But my fire glowed bravely as if in glad defiance of the drift +to quench it, and, notwithstanding but little trace of my nest could be seen +after the snow had leveled and buried it, I was snug and warm, and the +passionate uproar produced a glad excitement. +</p> + +<p> +Day after day the storm continued, piling snow on snow in weariless abundance. +There were short periods of quiet, when the sun would seem to look eagerly down +through rents in the clouds, as if to know how the work was advancing. During +these calm intervals I replenished my fire—sometimes without leaving the +nest, for fire and woodpile were so near this could easily be done—or +busied myself with my notebook, watching the gestures of the trees in taking +the snow, examining separate crystals under a lens, and learning the methods of +their deposition as an enduring fountain for the streams. Several times, when +the storm ceased for a few minutes, a Douglas squirrel came frisking from the +foot of a clump of dwarf pines, moving in sudden interrupted spurts over the +bossy snow; then, without any apparent guidance, he would dig rapidly into the +drift where were buried some grains of barley that the horses had left. The +Douglas squirrel does not strictly belong to these upper woods, and I was +surprised to see him out in such weather. The mountain sheep also, quite a +large flock of them, came to my camp and took shelter beside a clump of matted +dwarf pines a little above my nest. +</p> + +<p> +The storm lasted about a week, but before it was ended Sisson became alarmed +and sent up the guide with animals to see what had become of me and recover the +camp outfit. The news spread that “there was a man on the +mountain,” and he must surely have perished, and Sisson was blamed for +allowing any one to attempt climbing in such weather; while I was as safe as +anybody in the lowlands, lying like a squirrel in a warm, fluffy nest, busied +about my own affairs and wishing only to be let alone. Later, however, a trail +could not have been broken for a horse, and some of the camp furniture would +have had to be abandoned. On the fifth day I returned to Sisson’s, and +from that comfortable base made excursions, as the weather permitted, to the +Black Butte, to the foot of the Whitney Glacier, around the base of the +mountain, to Rhett and Klamath Lakes, to the Modoc region and elsewhere, +developing many interesting scenes and experiences. +</p> + +<p> +But the next spring, on the other side of this eventful winter, I saw and felt +still more of the Shasta snow. For then it was my fortune to get into the very +heart of a storm, and to be held in it for a long time. +</p> + +<p> +On the 28th of April 1875 I led a party up the mountain for the purpose of +making a survey of the summit with reference to the location of the Geodetic +monument. On the 30th, accompanied by Jerome Fay, I made another ascent to make +some barometrical observations, the day intervening between the two ascents +being devoted to establishing a camp on the extreme edge of the timberline. +Here, on our red trachyte bed, we obtained two hours of shallow sleep broken +for occasional glimpses of the keen, starry night. At two o’clock we +rose, breakfasted on a warmed tin-cupful of coffee and a piece of frozen +venison broiled on the coals, and started for the summit. Up to this time there +was nothing in sight that betokened the approach of a storm; but on gaining the +summit, we saw toward Lassen’s Butte hundreds of square miles of white +cumuli boiling dreamily in the sunshine far beneath us, and causing no alarm. +</p> + +<p> +The slight weariness of the ascent was soon rested away, and our glorious +morning in the sky promised nothing but enjoyment. At 9 a.m. the dry +thermometer stood at 34 degrees in the shade and rose steadily until at 1 p.m. +it stood at 50 degrees, probably influenced somewhat by radiation from the +sun-warmed cliffs. A common bumblebee, not at all benumbed, zigzagged +vigorously about our heads for a few moments, as if unconscious of the fact +that the nearest honey flower was a mile beneath him. +</p> + +<p> +In the mean time clouds were growing down in Shasta Valley—massive +swelling cumuli, displaying delicious tones of purple and gray in the hollows +of their sun-beaten bosses. Extending gradually southward around on both sides +of Shasta, these at length united with the older field towards Lassen’s +Butte, thus encircling Mount Shasta in one continuous cloud zone. Rhett and +Klamath Lakes were eclipsed beneath clouds scarcely less brilliant than their +own silvery disks. The Modoc Lava Beds, many a snow-laden peak far north in +Oregon, the Scott and Trinity and Siskiyou Mountains, the peaks of the Sierra, +the blue Coast Range, Shasta Valley, the dark forests filling the valley of the +Sacramento, all in turn were obscured or buried, leaving the lofty cone on +which we stood solitary in the sunshine between two skies—a sky of +spotless blue above, a sky of glittering cloud beneath. The creative sun shone +glorious on the vast expanse of cloudland; hill and dale, mountain and valley +springing into existence responsive to his rays and steadily developing in +beauty and individuality. One huge mountain-cone of cloud, corresponding to +Mount Shasta in these newborn cloud ranges, rose close alongside with a visible +motion, its firm, polished bosses seeming so near and substantial that we +almost fancied that we might leap down upon them from where we stood and make +our way to the lowlands. No hint was given, by anything in their appearance, of +the fleeting character of these most sublime and beautiful cloud mountains. On +the contrary they impressed one as being lasting additions to the landscape. +</p> + +<p> +The weather of the springtime and summer, throughout the Sierra in general, is +usually varied by slight local rains and dustings of snow, most of which are +obviously far too joyous and life-giving to be regarded as storms—single +clouds growing in the sunny sky, ripening in an hour, showering the heated +landscape, and passing away like a thought, leaving no visible bodily remains +to stain the sky. Snowstorms of the same gentle kind abound among the high +peaks, but in spring they not unfrequently attain larger proportions, assuming +a violence and energy of expression scarcely surpassed by those bred in the +depths of winter. Such was the storm now gathering about us. +</p> + +<p> +It began to declare itself shortly after noon, suggesting to us the idea of at +once seeking our safe camp in the timber and abandoning the purpose of making +an observation of the barometer at 3 p.m.,—two having already been made, +at 9 a.m., and 12 m., while simultaneous observations were made at Strawberry +Valley. Jerome peered at short intervals over the ridge, contemplating the +rising clouds with anxious gestures in the rough wind, and at length declared +that if we did not make a speedy escape we should be compelled to pass the rest +of the day and night on the summit. But anxiety to complete my observations +stifled my own instinctive promptings to retreat, and held me to my work. No +inexperienced person was depending on me, and I told Jerome that we two +mountaineers should be able to make our way down through any storm likely to +fall. +</p> + +<p> +Presently thin, fibrous films of cloud began to blow directly over the summit +from north to south, drawn out in long fairy webs like carded wool, forming and +dissolving as if by magic. The wind twisted them into ringlets and whirled them +in a succession of graceful convolutions like the outside sprays of Yosemite +Falls in flood time; then, sailing out into the thin azure over the precipitous +brink of the ridge they were drifted together like wreaths of foam on a river. +These higher and finer cloud fabrics were evidently produced by the chilling of +the air from its own expansion caused by the upward deflection of the wind +against the slopes of the mountain. They steadily increased on the north rim of +the cone, forming at length a thick, opaque, ill-defined embankment from the +icy meshes of which snow-flowers began to fall, alternating with hail. The sky +speedily darkened, and just as I had completed my last observation and boxed my +instruments ready for the descent, the storm began in serious earnest. At first +the cliffs were beaten with hail, every stone of which, as far as I could see, +was regular in form, six-sided pyramids with rounded base, rich and +sumptuous-looking, and fashioned with loving care, yet seemingly thrown away on +those desolate crags down which they went rolling, falling, sliding in a +network of curious streams. +</p> + +<p> +After we had forced our way down the ridge and past the group of hissing +fumaroles, the storm became inconceivably violent. The thermometer fell 22 +degrees in a few minutes, and soon dropped below zero. The hail gave place to +snow, and darkness came on like night. The wind, rising to the highest pitch of +violence, boomed and surged amid the desolate crags; lightning flashes in quick +succession cut the gloomy darkness; and the thunders, the most tremendously +loud and appalling I ever heard, made an almost continuous roar, stroke +following stroke in quick, passionate succession, as though the mountain were +being rent to its foundations and the fires of the old volcano were breaking +forth again. +</p> + +<p> +Could we at once have begun to descend the snow slopes leading to the timber, +we might have made good our escape, however dark and wild the storm. As it was, +we had first to make our way along a dangerous ridge nearly a mile and a half +long, flanked in many places by steep ice-slopes at the head of the Whitney +Glacier on one side and by shattered precipices on the other. Apprehensive of +this coming darkness, I had taken the precaution, when the storm began, to make +the most dangerous points clear to my mind, and to mark their relations with +reference to the direction of the wind. When, therefore, the darkness came on, +and the bewildering drift, I felt confident that we could force our way through +it with no other guidance. After passing the “Hot Springs” I halted +in the lee of a lava-block to let Jerome, who had fallen a little behind, come +up. Here he opened a council in which, under circumstances sufficiently +exciting but without evincing any bewilderment, he maintained, in opposition to +my views, that it was impossible to proceed. He firmly refused to make the +venture to find the camp, while I, aware of the dangers that would necessarily +attend our efforts, and conscious of being the cause of his present peril, +decided not to leave him. +</p> + +<p> +Our discussions ended, Jerome made a dash from the shelter of the lava-block +and began forcing his way back against the wind to the “Hot +Springs,” wavering and struggling to resist being carried away, as if he +were fording a rapid stream. After waiting and watching in vain for some flaw +in the storm that might be urged as a new argument in favor of attempting the +descent, I was compelled to follow. “Here,” said Jerome, as we +shivered in the midst of the hissing, sputtering fumaroles, “we shall be +safe from frost.” “Yes,” said I, “we can lie in this +mud and steam and sludge, warm at least on one side; but how can we protect our +lungs from the acid gases, and how, after our clothing is saturated, shall we +be able to reach camp without freezing, even after the storm is over? We shall +have to wait for sunshine, and when will it come?” +</p> + +<p> +The tempered area to which we had committed ourselves extended over about one +fourth of an acre; but it was only about an eighth of an inch in thickness, for +the scalding gas jets were shorn off close to the ground by the oversweeping +flood of frosty wind. And how lavishly the snow fell only mountaineers may +know. The crisp crystal flowers seemed to touch one another and fairly to +thicken the tremendous blast that carried them. This was the bloom-time, the +summer of the cloud, and never before have I seen even a mountain cloud +flowering so profusely. +</p> + +<p> +When the bloom of the Shasta chaparral is falling, the ground is sometimes +covered for hundreds of square miles to a depth of half an inch. But the bloom +of this fertile snow cloud grew and matured and fell to a depth of two feet in +a few hours. Some crystals landed with their rays almost perfect, but most of +them were worn and broken by striking against one another, or by rolling on the +ground. The touch of these snow-flowers in calm weather is infinitely +gentle—glinting, swaying, settling silently in the dry mountain air, or +massed in flakes soft and downy. To lie out alone in the mountains of a still +night and be touched by the first of these small silent messengers from the sky +is a memorable experience, and the fineness of that touch none will forget. But +the storm-blast laden with crisp, sharp snow seems to crush and bruise and +stupefy with its multitude of stings, and compels the bravest to turn and flee. +</p> + +<p> +The snow fell without abatement until an hour or two after what seemed to be +the natural darkness of the night. Up to the time the storm first broke on the +summit its development was remarkably gentle. There was a deliberate growth of +clouds, a weaving of translucent tissue above, then the roar of the wind and +the thunder, and the darkening flight of snow. Its subsidence was not less +sudden. The clouds broke and vanished, not a crystal was left in the sky, and +the stars shone out with pure and tranquil radiance. +</p> + +<p> +During the storm we lay on our backs so as to present as little surface as +possible to the wind, and to let the drift pass over us. The mealy snow sifted +into the folds of our clothing and in many places reached the skin. We were +glad at first to see the snow packing about us, hoping it would deaden the +force of the wind, but it soon froze into a stiff, crusty heap as the +temperature fell, rather augmenting our novel misery. +</p> + +<p> +When the heat became unendurable, on some spot where steam was escaping through +the sludge, we tried to stop it with snow and mud, or shifted a little at a +time by shoving with our heels; for to stand in blank exposure to the fearful +wind in our frozen-and-broiled condition seemed certain death. The acrid +incrustations sublimed from the escaping gases frequently gave way, opening new +vents to scald us; and, fearing that if at any time the wind should fall, +carbonic acid, which often formed a considerable portion of the gaseous +exhalations of volcanoes, might collect in sufficient quantities to cause sleep +and death, I warned Jerome against forgetting himself for a single moment, even +should his sufferings admit of such a thing. +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly, when during the long, dreary watches of the night we roused from a +state of half-consciousness, we called each other by name in a frightened, +startled way, each fearing the other might be benumbed or dead. The ordinary +sensations of cold give but a faint conception of that which comes on after +hard climbing with want of food and sleep in such exposure as this. Life is +then seen to be a fire, that now smoulders, now brightens, and may be easily +quenched. The weary hours wore away like dim half-forgotten years, so long and +eventful they seemed, though we did nothing but suffer. Still the pain was not +always of that bitter, intense kind that precludes thought and takes away all +capacity for enjoyment. A sort of dreamy stupor came on at times in which we +fancied we saw dry, resinous logs suitable for campfires, just as after going +days without food men fancy they see bread. +</p> + +<p> +Frozen, blistered, famished, benumbed, our bodies seemed lost to us at +times—all dead but the eyes. For the duller and fainter we became the +clearer was our vision, though only in momentary glimpses. Then, after the sky +cleared, we gazed at the stars, blessed immortals of light, shining with +marvelous brightness with long lance rays, near-looking and new-looking, as if +never seen before. Again they would look familiar and remind us of stargazing +at home. Oftentimes imagination coming into play would present charming +pictures of the warm zone below, mingled with others near and far. Then the +bitter wind and the drift would break the blissful vision and dreary pains +cover us like clouds. “Are you suffering much?” Jerome would +inquire with pitiful faintness. “Yes,” I would say, striving to +keep my voice brave, “frozen and burned; but never mind, Jerome, the +night will wear away at last, and tomorrow we go a-Maying, and what campfires +we will make, and what sunbaths we will take!” +</p> + +<p> +The frost grew more and more intense, and we became icy and covered over with a +crust of frozen snow, as if we had lain cast away in the drift all winter. In +about thirteen hours—every hour like a year—day began to dawn, but +it was long ere the summit’s rocks were touched by the sun. No clouds +were visible from where we lay, yet the morning was dull and blue, and bitterly +frosty; and hour after hour passed by while we eagerly watched the pale light +stealing down the ridge to the hollow where we lay. But there was not a trace +of that warm, flushing sunrise splendor we so long had hoped for. +</p> + +<p> +As the time drew near to make an effort to reach camp, we became concerned to +know what strength was left us, and whether or no we could walk; for we had +lain flat all this time without once rising to our feet. Mountaineers, however, +always find in themselves a reserve of power after great exhaustion. It is a +kind of second life, available only in emergencies like this; and, having +proved its existence, I had no great fear that either of us would fail, though +one of my arms was already benumbed and hung powerless. +</p> + +<p> +At length, after the temperature was somewhat mitigated on this memorable first +of May, we arose and began to struggle homeward. Our frozen trousers could +scarcely be made to bend at the knee, and we waded the snow with difficulty. +The summit ridge was fortunately wind-swept and nearly bare, so we were not +compelled to lift our feet high, and on reaching the long home slopes laden +with loose snow we made rapid progress, sliding and shuffling and pitching +headlong, our feebleness accelerating rather than diminishing our speed. When +we had descended some three thousand feet the sunshine warmed our backs and we +began to revive. At 10 a.m. we reached the timber and were safe. +</p> + +<p> +Half an hour later we heard Sisson shouting down among the firs, coming with +horses to take us to the hotel. After breaking a trail through the snow as far +as possible he had tied his animals and walked up. We had been so long without +food that we cared but little about eating, but we eagerly drank the coffee he +prepared for us. Our feet were frozen, and thawing them was painful, and had to +be done very slowly by keeping them buried in soft snow for several hours, +which avoided permanent damage. Five thousand feet below the summit we found +only three inches of new snow, and at the base of the mountain only a slight +shower of rain had fallen, showing how local our storm had been, +notwithstanding its terrific fury. Our feet were wrapped in sacking, and we +were soon mounted and on our way down into the thick +sunshine—“God’s Country,” as Sisson calls the Chaparral +Zone. In two hours’ ride the last snowbank was left behind. Violets +appeared along the edges of the trail, and the chaparral was coming into bloom, +with young lilies and larkspurs about the open places in rich profusion. How +beautiful seemed the golden sunbeams streaming through the woods between the +warm brown boles of the cedars and pines! All my friends among the birds and +plants seemed like <i>old</i> friends, and we felt like speaking to every one +of them as we passed, as if we had been a long time away in some far, strange +country. +</p> + +<p> +In the afternoon we reached Strawberry Valley and fell asleep. Next morning we +seemed to have risen from the dead. My bedroom was flooded with sunshine, and +from the window I saw the great white Shasta cone clad in forests and clouds +and bearing them loftily in the sky. Everything seemed full and radiant with +the freshness and beauty and enthusiasm of youth. Sisson’s children came +in with flowers and covered my bed, and the storm on the mountaintop banished +like a dream. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>V. Shasta Rambles and Modoc Memories</h2> + +<p> +Arctic beauty and desolation, with their blessings and dangers, all may be +found here, to test the endurance and skill of adventurous climbers; but far +better than climbing the mountain is going around its warm, fertile base, +enjoying its bounties like a bee circling around a bank of flowers. The +distance is about a hundred miles, and will take some of the time we hear so +much about—a week or two—but the benefits will compensate for any +number of weeks. Perhaps the profession of doing good may be full, but every +body should be kind at least to himself. Take a course of good water and air, +and in the eternal youth of Nature you may renew your own. Go quietly, alone; +no harm will befall you. Some have strange, morbid fears as soon as they find +themselves with Nature, even in the kindest and wildest of her solitudes, like +very sick children afraid of their mother—as if God were dead and the +devil were king. +</p> + +<p> +One may make the trip on horseback, or in a carriage, even; for a good level +road may be found all the way round, by Shasta Valley, Sheep Rock, Elk Flat, +Huckleberry Valley, Squaw Valley, following for a considerable portion of the +way the old Emigrant Road, which lies along the east disk of the mountain, and +is deeply worn by the wagons of the early gold-seekers, many of whom chose this +northern route as perhaps being safer and easier, the pass here being only +about six thousand feet above sea level. But it is far better to go afoot. Then +you are free to make wide waverings and zigzags away from the roads to visit +the great fountain streams of the rivers, the glaciers also, and the wildest +retreats in the primeval forests, where the best plants and animals dwell, and +where many a flower-bell will ring against your knees, and friendly trees will +reach out their fronded branches and touch you as you pass. One blanket will be +enough to carry, or you may forego the pleasure and burden altogether, as wood +for fires is everywhere abundant. Only a little food will be required. Berries +and plums abound in season, and quail and grouse and deer—the magnificent +shaggy mule deer as well as the common species. +</p> + +<p> +As you sweep around so grand a center, the mountain itself seems to turn, +displaying its riches like the revolving pyramids in jewelers’ windows. +One glacier after another comes into view, and the outlines of the mountain are +ever changing, though all the way around, from whatever point of view, the form +is maintained of a grand, simple cone with a gently sloping base and rugged, +crumbling ridges separating the glaciers and the snowfields more or less +completely. The play of colors, from the first touches of the morning sun on +the summit, down the snowfields and the ice and lava until the forests are +aglow, is a never-ending delight, the rosy lava and the fine flushings of the +snow being ineffably lovely. Thus one saunters on and on in the glorious +radiance in utter peace and forgetfulness of time. +</p> + +<p> +Yet, strange to say, there are days even here somewhat dull-looking, when the +mountain seems uncommunicative, sending out no appreciable invitation, as if +not at home. At such time its height seems much less, as if, crouching and +weary, it were taking rest. But Shasta is always at home to those who love her, +and is ever in a thrill of enthusiastic activity—burning fires within, +grinding glaciers without, and fountains ever flowing. Every crystal dances +responsive to the touches of the sun, and currents of sap in the growing cells +of all the vegetation are ever in a vital whirl and rush, and though many feet +and wings are folded, how many are astir! And the wandering winds, how busy +they are, and what a breadth of sound and motion they make, glinting and +bubbling about the crags of the summit, sifting through the woods, feeling +their way from grove to grove, ruffling the loose hair on the shoulders of the +bears, fanning and rocking young birds in their cradles, making a trumpet of +every corolla, and carrying their fragrance around the world. +</p> + +<p> +In unsettled weather, when storms are growing, the mountain looms immensely +higher, and its miles of height become apparent to all, especially in the gloom +of the gathering clouds, or when the storm is done and they are rolling away, +torn on the edges and melting while in the sunshine. Slight rainstorms are +likely to be encountered in a trip round the mountain, but one may easily find +shelter beneath well-thatched trees that shed the rain like a roof. Then the +shining of the wet leaves is delightful, and the steamy fragrance, and the +burst of bird song from a multitude of thrushes and finches and warblers that +have nests in the chaparral. +</p> + +<p> +The nights, too, are delightful, watching with Shasta beneath the great starry +dome. A thousand thousand voices are heard, but so finely blended they seem a +part of the night itself, and make a deeper silence. And how grandly do the +great logs and branches of your campfire give forth the heat and light that +during their long century-lives they have so slowly gathered from the sun, +storing it away in beautiful dotted cells and beads of amber gum! The +neighboring trees look into the charmed circle as if the noon of another day +had come, familiar flowers and grasses that chance to be near seem far more +beautiful and impressive than by day, and as the dead trees give forth their +light all the other riches of their lives seem to be set free and with the +rejoicing flames rise again to the sky. In setting out from Strawberry Valley, +by bearing off to the northwestward a few miles you may see +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“...beneath dim aisles, in odorous beds,<br/> +The slight Linnaea hang its twin-born heads,<br/> +And [bless] the monument of the man of flowers,<br/> +Which breathes his sweet fame through the northern bowers.” +</p> + +<p> +This is one of the few places in California where the charming linnaea is +found, though it is common to the northward through Oregon and Washington. +Here, too, you may find the curious but unlovable darlingtonia, a carnivorous +plant that devours bumblebees, grasshoppers, ants, moths, and other insects, +with insatiable appetite. In approaching it, its suspicious-looking +yellow-spotted hood and watchful attitude will be likely to make you go +cautiously through the bog where it stands, as if you were approaching a +dangerous snake. It also occurs in a bog near Sothern’s Station on the +stage road, where I first saw it, and in other similar bogs throughout the +mountains hereabouts. +</p> + +<p> +The “Big Spring” of the Sacramento is about a mile and a half above +Sisson’s, issuing from the base of a drift-covered hill. It is lined with +emerald algae and mosses, and shaded with alder, willow, and thorn bushes, +which give it a fine setting. Its waters, apparently unaffected by flood or +drouth, heat or cold, fall at once into white rapids with a rush and dash, as +if glad to escape from the darkness to begin their wild course down the cañon +to the plain. +</p> + +<p> +Muir’s Peak, a few miles to the north of the spring, rises about three +thousand feet above the plain on which it stands, and is easily climbed. The +view is very fine and well repays the slight walk to its summit, from which +much of your way about the mountain may be studied and chosen. The view +obtained of the Whitney Glacier should tempt you to visit it, since it is the +largest of the Shasta glaciers and its lower portion abounds in beautiful and +interesting cascades and crevasses. It is three or four miles long and +terminates at an elevation of about nine thousand five hundred feet above sea +level, in moraine-sprinkled ice cliffs sixty feet high. The long gray slopes +leading up to the glacier seem remarkably smooth and unbroken. They are much +interrupted, nevertheless, with abrupt, jagged precipitous gorges, which though +offering instructive sections of the lavas for examination, would better be +shunned by most people. This may be done by keeping well down on the base until +fronting the glacier before beginning the ascent. +</p> + +<p> +The gorge through which the glacier is drained is raw-looking, deep and narrow, +and indescribably jagged. The walls in many places overhang; in others they are +beveled, loose, and shifting where the channel has been eroded by cinders, +ashes, strata of firm lavas, and glacial drift, telling of many a change from +frost to fire and their attendant floods of mud and water. Most of the drainage +of the glacier vanishes at once in the porous rocks to reappear in springs in +the distant valley, and it is only in time of flood that the channel carries +much water; then there are several fine falls in the gorge, six hundred feet or +more in height. Snow lies in it the year round at an elevation of eight +thousand five hundred feet, and in sheltered spots a thousand feet lower. +Tracing this wild changing channel-gorge, gully, or cañon, the sections will +show Mount Shasta as a huge palimpsest, containing the records, layer upon +layer, of strangely contrasted events in its fiery-icy history. But look well +to your footing, for the way will test the skill of the most cautious +mountaineers. +</p> + +<p> +Regaining the low ground at the base of the mountain and holding on in your +grand orbit, you pass through a belt of juniper woods, called “The +Cedars,” to Sheep Rock at the foot of the Shasta Pass. Here you strike +the old emigrant road, which leads over the low divide to the eastern slopes of +the mountain. In a north-northwesterly direction from the foot of the pass you +may chance to find Pluto’s Cave, already mentioned; but it is not easily +found, since its several mouths are on a level with the general surface of the +ground, and have been made simply by the falling-in of portions of the roof. +Far the most beautiful and richly furnished of the mountain caves of California +occur in a thick belt of metamorphic limestone that is pretty generally +developed along the western flank of the Sierra from the McCloud River to the +Kaweah, a distance of nearly four hundred miles. These volcanic caves are not +wanting in interest, and it is well to light a pitch pine torch and take a walk +in these dark ways of the underworld whenever opportunity offers, if for no +other reason to see with new appreciation on returning to the sunshine the +beauties that lie so thick about us. +</p> + +<p> +Sheep Rock is about twenty miles from Sisson’s, and is one of the +principal winter pasture grounds of the wild sheep, from which it takes its +name. It is a mass of lava presenting to the gray sage plain of Shasta Valley a +bold craggy front two thousand feet high. Its summit lies at an elevation of +five thousand five hundred feet above the sea, and has several square miles of +comparatively level surface, where bunchgrass grows and the snow does not lie +deep, thus allowing the hardy sheep to pick up a living through the winter +months when deep snows have driven them down from the lofty ridges of Shasta. +</p> + +<p> +From here it might be well to leave the immediate base of the mountain for a +few days and visit the Lava Beds made famous by the Modoc War. They lie about +forty miles to the northeastward, on the south shore of Rhett or Tule<a +href="#linknote-7" name="linknoteref-7"><sup>[7]</sup></a> Lake, at an +elevation above sea level of about forty-five hundred feet. They are a portion +of a flow of dense black vesicular lava, dipping northeastward at a low angle, +but little changed as yet by the weather, and about as destitute of soil as a +glacial pavement. The surface, though smooth in a general way as seen from a +distance, is dotted with hillocks and rough crater-like pits, and traversed by +a network of yawning fissures, forming a combination of topographical +conditions of very striking character. The way lies by Mount Bremer, over +stretches of gray sage plains, interrupted by rough lava slopes timbered with +juniper and yellow pine, and with here and there a green meadow and a stream. +</p> + +<p> +This is a famous game region, and you will be likely to meet small bands of +antelope, mule deer, and wild sheep. Mount Bremer is the most noted stronghold +of the sheep in the whole Shasta region. Large flocks dwell here from year to +year, winter and summer, descending occasionally into the adjacent sage plains +and lava beds to feed, but ever ready to take refuge in the jagged crags of +their mountain at every alarm. While traveling with a company of hunters I saw +about fifty in one flock. +</p> + +<p> +The Van Bremer brothers, after whom the mountain is named, told me that they +once climbed the mountain with their rifles and hounds on a grand hunt; but, +after keeping up the pursuit for a week, their boots and clothing gave way, and +the hounds were lamed and worn out without having run down a single sheep, +notwithstanding they ran night and day. On smooth spots, level or ascending, +the hounds gained on the sheep, but on descending ground, and over rough masses +of angular rocks they fell hopelessly behind. Only half a dozen sheep were shot +as they passed the hunters stationed near their paths circling round the rugged +summit. The full-grown bucks weigh nearly three hundred and fifty pounds. +</p> + +<p> +The mule deer are nearly as heavy. Their long, massive ears give them a very +striking appearance. One large buck that I measured stood three feet and seven +inches high at the shoulders, and when the ears were extended horizontally the +distance across from tip to tip was two feet and one inch. +</p> + +<p> +From the Van Bremer ranch the way to the Lava Beds leads down the Bremer +Meadows past many a smooth grassy knoll and jutting cliff, along the shore of +Lower Klamath Lake, and thence across a few miles of sage plain to the brow of +the wall-like bluff of lava four hundred and fifty feet above Tule Lake. Here +you are looking southeastward, and the Modoc landscape, which at once takes +possession of you, lies revealed in front. It is composed of three principal +parts; on your left lies the bright expanse of Tule Lake, on your right an +evergreen forest, and between the two are the black Lava Beds. +</p> + +<p> +When I first stood there, one bright day before sundown, the lake was fairly +blooming in purple light, and was so responsive to the sky in both calmness and +color it seemed itself a sky. No mountain shore hides its loveliness. It lies +wide open for many a mile, veiled in no mystery but the mystery of light. The +forest also was flooded with sun-purple, not a spire moving, and Mount Shasta +was seen towering above it rejoicing in the ineffable beauty of the alpenglow. +But neither the glorified woods on the one hand, nor the lake on the other, +could at first hold the eye. That dark mysterious lava plain between them +compelled attention. Here you trace yawning fissures, there clusters of somber +pits; now you mark where the lava is bent and corrugated in swelling ridges and +domes, again where it breaks into a rough mass of loose blocks. Tufts of grass +grow far apart here and there and small bushes of hardy sage, but they have a +singed appearance and can do little to hide the blackness. Deserts are charming +to those who know how to see them—all kinds of bogs, barrens, and heathy +moors; but the Modoc Lava Beds have for me an uncanny look. As I gazed the +purple deepened over all the landscape. Then fell the gloaming, making +everything still more forbidding and mysterious. Then, darkness like death. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning the crisp, sunshiny air made even the Modoc landscape less +hopeless, and we ventured down the bluff to the edge of the Lava Beds. Just at +the foot of the bluff we came to a square enclosed by a stone wall. This is a +graveyard where lie buried thirty soldiers, most of whom met their fate out in +the Lava Beds, as we learn by the boards marking the graves—a gloomy +place to die in, and deadly-looking even without Modocs. The poor fellows that +lie here deserve far more pity than they have ever received. Picking our way +over the strange ridges and hollows of the beds, we soon came to a circular +flat about twenty yards in diameter, on the shore of the lake, where the +comparative smoothness of the lava and a few handfuls of soil have caused the +grass tufts to grow taller. This is where General Canby was slain while seeking +to make peace with the treacherous Modocs. +</p> + +<p> +Two or three miles farther on is the main stronghold of the Modocs, held by +them so long and defiantly against all the soldiers that could be brought to +the attack. Indians usually choose to hide in tall grass and bush and behind +trees, where they can crouch and glide like panthers, without casting up +defenses that would betray their positions; but the Modoc castle is in the +rock. When the Yosemite Indians made raids on the settlers of the lower Merced, +they withdrew with their spoils into Yosemite Valley; and the Modocs boasted +that in case of war they had a stone house into which no white man could come +as long as they cared to defend it. Yosemite was not held for a single day +against the pursuing troops; but the Modocs held their fort for months, until, +weary of being hemmed in, they chose to withdraw. +</p> + +<p> +It consists of numerous redoubts formed by the unequal subsidence of portions +of the lava flow, and a complicated network of redans abundantly supplied with +salient and re-entering angles, being united each to the other and to the +redoubts by a labyrinth of open and covered corridors, some of which expand at +intervals into spacious caverns, forming as a whole the most complete natural +Gibraltar I ever saw. Other castles scarcely less strong are connected with +this by subterranean passages known only to the Indians, while the unnatural +blackness of the rock out of which Nature has constructed these defenses, and +the weird, inhuman physiognomy of the whole region are well calculated to +inspire terror. +</p> + +<p> +Deadly was the task of storming such a place. The breech-loading rifles of the +Indians thrust through chinks between the rocks were ready to pick off every +soldier who showed himself for a moment, while the Indians lay utterly +invisible. They were familiar with byways both over and under ground, and could +at any time sink suddenly out of sight like squirrels among the loose boulders. +Our bewildered soldiers heard them shooting, now before, now behind them, as +they glided from place to place through fissures and subterranean passes, all +the while as invisible as Gyges wearing his magic ring. To judge from the few I +have seen, Modocs are not very amiable-looking people at best. When, therefore, +they were crawling stealthily in the gloomy caverns, unkempt and begrimed and +with the glare of war in their eyes, they must have seemed very demons of the +volcanic pit. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Jack’s cave is one of the many somber cells of the castle. It +measures twenty-five or thirty feet in diameter at the entrance, and extends +but a short distance in a horizontal direction. The floor is littered with the +bones of the animals slaughtered for food during the war. Some eager +archaeologist may hereafter discover this cabin and startle his world by +announcing another of the Stone Age caves. The sun shines freely into its +mouth, and graceful bunches of grass and eriogonums and sage grow about it, +doing what they can toward its redemption from degrading associations and +making it beautiful. +</p> + +<p> +Where the lava meets the lake there are some fine curving bays, beautifully +embroidered with rushes and polygonums, a favorite resort of waterfowl. On our +return, keeping close along shore, we caused a noisy plashing and beating of +wings among cranes and geese. The ducks, less wary, kept their places, merely +swimming in and out through openings in the rushes, rippling the glassy water, +and raising spangles in their wake. The countenance of the lava beds became +less and less forbidding. Tufts of pale grasses, relieved on the jet rocks, +looked like ornaments on a mantel, thick-furred mats of emerald mosses appeared +in damp spots next the shore, and I noticed one tuft of small ferns. From year +to year in the kindly weather the beds are thus gathering beauty—beauty +for ashes. +</p> + +<p> +Returning to Sheep Rock and following the old emigrant road, one is soon back +again beneath the snows and shadows of Shasta, and the Ash Creek and McCloud +Glaciers come into view on the east side of the mountain. They are broad, +rugged, crevassed cloudlike masses of down-grinding ice, pouring forth streams +of muddy water as measures of the work they are doing in sculpturing the rocks +beneath them; very unlike the long, majestic glaciers of Alaska that riverlike +go winding down the valleys through the forests to the sea. These, with a few +others as yet nameless, are lingering remnants of once great glaciers that +occupied the cañons now taken by the rivers, and in a few centuries will, +under present conditions, vanish altogether. +</p> + +<p> +The rivers of the granite south half of the Sierra are outspread on the peaks +in a shining network of small branches, that divide again and again into small +dribbling, purling, oozing threads drawing their sources from the snow and ice +of the surface. They seldom sink out of sight, save here and there in the +moraines or glaciers, or, early in the season, beneath the banks and bridges of +snow, soon to issue again. But in the north half, laden with rent and porous +lava, small tributary streams are rare, and the rivers, flowing for a time +beneath the sky of rock, at length burst forth into the light in generous +volume from seams and caverns, filtered, cool, and sparkling, as if their +bondage in darkness, safe from the vicissitudes of the weather in their youth, +were only a blessing. +</p> + +<p> +Only a very small portion of the water derived from the melting ice and snow of +Shasta flows down its flanks on the surface. Probably ninety-nine per cent of +it is at once absorbed and drained away beneath the porous lava-folds of the +mountain to gush forth, filtered and pure, in the form of immense springs, so +large, some of them, that they give birth to rivers that start on their journey +beneath the sun, full-grown and perfect without any childhood. Thus the Shasta +River issues from a large lake-like spring in Shasta Valley, and about two +thirds of the volume of the McCloud gushes forth in a grand spring on the east +side of the mountain, a few miles back from its immediate base. +</p> + +<p> +To find the big spring of the McCloud, or “Mud Glacier,” which you +will know by its size (it being the largest on the east side), you make your +way through sunny, parklike woods of yellow pine, and a shaggy growth of +chaparral, and come in a few hours to the river flowing in a gorge of moderate +depth, cut abruptly down into the lava plain. Should the volume of the stream +where you strike it seem small, then you will know that you are above the +spring; if large, nearly equal to its volume at its confluence with the Pitt +River, then you are below it; and in either case have only to follow the river +up or down until you come to it. +</p> + +<p> +Under certain conditions you may hear the roar of the water rushing from the +rock at a distance of half a mile, or even more; or you may not hear it until +within a few rods. It comes in a grand, eager gush from a horizontal seam in +the face of the wall of the river gorge in the form of a partially interrupted +sheet nearly seventy-five yards in width, and at a height above the riverbed of +about forty feet, as nearly as I could make out without the means of exact +measurement. For about fifty yards this flat current is in one unbroken sheet, +and flows in a lacework of plashing, upleaping spray over boulders that are +clad in green silky algae and water mosses to meet the smaller part of the +river, which takes its rise farther up. Joining the river at right angles to +its course, it at once swells its volume to three times its size above the +spring. +</p> + +<p> +The vivid green of the boulders beneath the water is very striking, and colors +the entire stream with the exception of the portions broken into foam. The +color is chiefly due to a species of algae which seems common in springs of +this sort. That any kind of plant can hold on and grow beneath the wear of so +boisterous a current seems truly wonderful, even after taking into +consideration the freedom of the water from cutting drift, and the constance of +its volume and temperature throughout the year. The temperature is about 45 +degrees, and the height of the river above the sea is here about three thousand +feet. Asplenium, epilobium, heuchera, hazel, dogwood, and alder make a +luxurious fringe and setting; and the forests of Douglas spruce along the banks +are the finest I have ever seen in the Sierra. +</p> + +<p> +From the spring you may go with the river—a fine traveling +companion—down to the sportsman’s fishing station, where, if you +are getting hungry, you may replenish your stores; or, bearing off around the +mountain by Huckleberry Valley, complete your circuit without interruption, +emerging at length from beneath the outspread arms of the sugar pine at +Strawberry Valley, with all the new wealth and health gathered in your walk; +not tired in the least, and only eager to repeat the round. +</p> + +<p> +Tracing rivers to their fountains makes the most charming of travels. As the +life-blood of the landscapes, the best of the wilderness comes to their banks, +and not one dull passage is found in all their eventful histories. Tracing the +McCloud to its highest springs, and over the divide to the fountains of Fall +River, near Fort Crook, thence down that river to its confluence with the Pitt, +on from there to the volcanic region about Lassen’s Butte, through the +Big Meadows among the sources of the Feather River, and down through forests of +sugar pine to the fertile plains of Chico—this is a glorious saunter and +imposes no hardship. Food may be had at moderate intervals, and the whole +circuit forms one ever-deepening, broadening stream of enjoyment. +</p> + +<p> +Fall River is a very remarkable stream. It is only about ten miles long, and is +composed of springs, rapids, and falls—springs beautifully shaded at one +end of it, a showy fall one hundred and eighty feet high at the other, and a +rush of crystal rapids between. The banks are fringed with rubus, rose, plum +cherry, spiraea, azalea, honeysuckle, hawthorn, ash, alder, elder, aster, +goldenrod, beautiful grasses, sedges, rushes, mosses, and ferns with fronds as +large as the leaves of palms—all in the midst of a richly forested +landscape. Nowhere within the limits of California are the forests of yellow +pine so extensive and exclusive as on the headwaters of the Pitt. They cover +the mountains and all the lower slopes that border the wide, open valleys which +abound there, pressing forward in imposing ranks, seemingly the hardiest and +most firmly established of all the northern coniferae. +</p> + +<p> +The volcanic region about Lassen’s Butte I have already in part +described. Miles of its flanks are dotted with hot springs, many of them so +sulphurous and boisterous and noisy in their boiling that they seem inclined to +become geysers like those of the Yellowstone. +</p> + +<p> +The ascent of Lassen’s Butte is an easy walk, and the views from the +summit are extremely telling. Innumerable lakes and craters surround the base; +forests of the charming Williamson spruce fringe lake and crater alike; the +sunbeaten plains to east and west make a striking show, and the wilderness of +peaks and ridges stretch indefinitely away on either hand. The lofty, icy +Shasta, towering high above all, seems but an hour’s walk from you, +though the distance in an air-line is about sixty miles. +</p> + +<p> +The “Big Meadows” lie near the foot of Lassen’s Butte, a +beautiful spacious basin set in the heart of the richly forested mountains, +scarcely surpassed in the grandeur of its surroundings by Tahoe. During the +Glacial Period it was a mer de glace, then a lake, and now a level meadow +shining with bountiful springs and streams. In the number and size of its big +spring fountains it excels even Shasta. One of the largest that I measured +forms a lakelet nearly a hundred yards in diameter, and, in the generous flood +it sends forth offers one of the most telling symbols of Nature’s +affluence to be found in the mountains. +</p> + +<p> +The great wilds of our country, once held to be boundless and inexhaustible, +are being rapidly invaded and overrun in every direction, and everything +destructible in them is being destroyed. How far destruction may go it is not +easy to guess. Every landscape, low and high, seems doomed to be trampled and +harried. Even the sky is not safe from scath—blurred and blackened whole +summers together with the smoke of fires that devour the woods. +</p> + +<p> +The Shasta region is still a fresh unspoiled wilderness, accessible and +available for travelers of every kind and degree. Would it not then be a fine +thing to set it apart like the Yellowstone and Yosemite as a National Park for +the welfare and benefit of all mankind, preserving its fountains and forests +and all its glad life in primeval beauty? Very little of the region can ever be +more valuable for any other use—certainly not for gold nor for grain. No +private right or interest need suffer, and thousands yet unborn would come from +far and near and bless the country for its wise and benevolent forethought. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>VI. The City of the Saints<a href="#linknote-8" name="linknoteref-8"><sup>[8]</sup></a></h2> + +<p> +The mountains rise grandly round about this curious city, the Zion of the new +Saints, so grandly that the city itself is hardly visible. The Wahsatch Range, +snow-laden and adorned with glacier-sculpted peaks, stretches continuously +along the eastern horizon, forming the boundary of the Great Salt Lake Basin; +while across the valley of the Jordan southwestward from here, you behold the +Oquirrh Range, about as snowy and lofty as the Wahsatch. To the northwest your +eye skims the blue levels of the great lake, out of the midst of which rise +island mountains, and beyond, at a distance of fifty miles, is seen the +picturesque wall of the lakeside mountains blending with the lake and the sky. +</p> + +<p> +The glacial developments of these superb ranges are sharply sculptured peaks +and crests, with ample wombs between them where the ancient snows of the +glacial period were collected and transformed into ice, and ranks of profound +shadowy cañons, while moraines commensurate with the lofty fountains extend +into the valleys, forming far the grandest series of glacial monuments I have +yet seen this side of the Sierra. +</p> + +<p> +In beginning this letter I meant to describe the city, but in the company of +these noble old mountains, it is not easy to bend one’s attention upon +anything else. Salt Lake cannot be called a very beautiful town, neither is +there anything ugly or repulsive about it. From the slopes of the Wahsatch +foothills, or old lake benches, toward Fort Douglas it is seen to occupy the +sloping gravelly delta of City Creek, a fine, hearty stream that comes pouring +from the snows of the mountains through a majestic glacial cañon; and it is +just where this stream comes forth into the light on the edge of the valley of +the Jordan that the Mormons have built their new Jerusalem. +</p> + +<p> +At first sight there is nothing very marked in the external appearance of the +town excepting its leafiness. Most of the houses are veiled with trees, as if +set down in the midst of one grand orchard; and seen at a little distance they +appear like a field of glacier boulders overgrown with aspens, such as one +often meets in the upper valleys of the California Sierra, for only the angular +roofs are clearly visible. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus05"></a> +<img src="images/img05.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="THE WAHSATCH MOUNTAINS" /> +<p class="caption">IN THE WAHSATCH MOUNTAINS</p> +</div> + +<p> +Perhaps nineteen twentieths of the houses are built of bluish-gray adobe +bricks, and are only one or two stories high, forming fine cottage homes which +promise simple comfort within. They are set well back from the street, leaving +room for a flower garden, while almost every one has a thrifty orchard at the +sides and around the back. The gardens are laid out with great simplicity, +indicating love for flowers by people comparatively poor, rather than +deliberate efforts of the rich for showy artistic effects. They are like the +pet gardens of children, about as artless and humble, and harmonize with the +low dwellings to which they belong. In almost every one you find daisies, and +mint, and lilac bushes, and rows of plain English tulips. Lilacs and tulips are +the most characteristic flowers, and nowhere have I seen them in greater +perfection. As Oakland is pre-eminently a city of roses, so is this Mormon +Saints’ Rest a city of lilacs and tulips. The flowers, at least, are +saintly, and they are surely loved. Scarce a home, however obscure, is without +them, and the simple, unostentatious manner in which they are planted and +gathered in pots and boxes about the windows shows how truly they are prized. +</p> + +<p> +The surrounding commons, the marshy levels of the Jordan, and dry, gravelly +lake benches on the slopes of the Wahsatch foothills are now gay with wild +flowers, chief among which are a species of phlox, with an abundance of rich +pink corollas, growing among sagebrush in showy tufts, and a beautiful +papilionaceous plant, with silky leaves and large clusters of purple flowers, +banner, wings, and keel exquisitely shaded, a mertensia, hydrophyllum, white +boragewort, orthocarpus, several species of violets, and a tall scarlet gilia. +It is delightful to see how eagerly all these are sought after by the children, +both boys and girls. Every day that I have gone botanizing I have met groups of +little Latter-Days with their precious bouquets, and at such times it was hard +to believe the dark, bloody passages of Mormon history. +</p> + +<p> +But to return to the city. As soon as City Creek approaches its upper limit its +waters are drawn off right and left, and distributed in brisk rills, one on +each side of every street, the regular slopes of the delta upon which the city +is built being admirably adapted to this system of street irrigation. These +streams are all pure and sparkling in the upper streets, but, as they are used +to some extent as sewers, they soon manifest the consequence of contact with +civilization, though the speed of their flow prevents their becoming offensive, +and little Saints not over particular may be seen drinking from them +everywhere. +</p> + +<p> +The streets are remarkably wide and the buildings low, making them appear yet +wider than they really are. Trees are planted along the sidewalks—elms, +poplars, maples, and a few catalpas and hawthorns; yet they are mostly small +and irregular, and nowhere form avenues half so leafy and imposing as one would +be led to expect. Even in the business streets there is but little regularity +in the buildings—now a row of plain adobe structures, half store, half +dwelling, then a high mercantile block of red brick or sandstone, and again a +row of adobe cottages nestled back among apple trees. There is one immense +store with its sign upon the roof, in letters big enough to be read miles away, +“Z.C.M.I.” (Zion’s Co-operative Mercantile Institution), +while many a small, codfishy corner grocery bears the legend “Holiness to +the Lord, Z.C.M.I.” But little evidence will you find in this Zion, with +its fifteen thousand souls, of great wealth, though many a Saint is seeking it +as keenly as any Yankee Gentile. But on the other hand, searching throughout +all the city, you will not find any trace of squalor or extreme poverty. +</p> + +<p> +Most of the women I have chanced to meet, especially those from the country, +have a weary, repressed look, as if for the sake of their religion they were +patiently carrying burdens heavier than they were well able to bear. But, +strange as it must seem to Gentiles, the many wives of one man, instead of +being repelled from one another by jealousy, appear to be drawn all the closer +together, as if the real marriage existed between the wives only. Groups of +half a dozen or so may frequently be seen on the streets in close conversation, +looking as innocent and unspeculative as a lot of heifers, while the masculine +Saints pass them by as if they belonged to a distinct species. In the +Tabernacle last Sunday, one of the elders of the church, in discoursing upon +the good things of life, the possessions of Latter-Day Saints, enumerated +fruitful fields, horses, cows, wives, and implements, the wives being placed as +above, between the cows and implements, without receiving any superior +emphasis. +</p> + +<p> +Polygamy, as far as I have observed, exerts a more degrading influence upon +husbands that upon wives. The love of the latter finds expression in flowers +and children, while the former seem to be rendered incapable of pure love of +anything. The spirit of Mormonism is intensely exclusive and un-American. A +more withdrawn, compact, sealed-up body of people could hardly be found on the +face of the earth than is gathered here, notwithstanding railroads, telegraphs, +and the penetrating lights that go sifting through society everywhere in this +revolutionary, question-asking century. Most of the Mormons I have met seem to +be in a state of perpetual apology, which can hardly be fully accounted for by +Gentile attacks. At any rate it is unspeakably offensive to any free man. +</p> + +<p> +“We Saints,” they are continually saying, “are not as bad as +we are called. We don’t murder those who differ with us, but rather treat +them with all charity. You may go through our town night or day and no harm +shall befall you. Go into our houses and you will be well used. We are as glad +as you are that Lee was punished,” etc. While taking a saunter the other +evening we were overtaken by a characteristic Mormon, “an umble +man,” who made us a very deferential salute and then walked on with us +about half a mile. We discussed whatsoever of Mormon doctrines came to mind +with American freedom, which he defended as best he could, speaking in an +excited but deprecating tone. When hard pressed he would say: “I +don’t understand these deep things, but the elders do. I’m only an +umble tradesman.” In taking leave he thanked us for the pleasure of our +querulous conversation, removed his hat, and bowed lowly in a sort of Uriah +Heep manner, and then went to his humble home. How many humble wives it +contained, we did not learn. +</p> + +<p> +Fine specimens of manhood are by no means wanting, but the number of people one +meets here who have some physical defect or who attract one’s attention +by some mental peculiarity that manifests itself through the eyes, is +astonishingly great in so small a city. It would evidently be unfair to +attribute these defects to Mormonism, though Mormonism has undoubtedly been the +magnet that elected and drew these strange people together from all parts of +the world. +</p> + +<p> +But however “the peculiar doctrines” and “peculiar +practices” of Mormonism have affected the bodies and the minds of the old +Saints, the little Latter-Day boys and girls are as happy and natural as +possible, running wild, with plenty of good hearty parental indulgence, +playing, fighting, gathering flowers in delightful innocence; and when we +consider that most of the parents have been drawn from the thickly settled +portion of the Old World, where they have long suffered the repression of +hunger and hard toil, the Mormon children, “Utah’s best +crop,” seem remarkably bright and promising. +</p> + +<p> +From children one passes naturally into the blooming wilderness, to the pure +religion of sunshine and snow, where all the good and the evil of this strange +people lifts and vanishes from the mind like mist from the mountains. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>VII. A Great Storm in Utah<a href="#linknote-9" name="linknoteref-9"><sup>[9]</sup></a></h2> + +<p> +Utah has just been blessed with one of the grandest storms I have ever beheld +this side of the Sierra. The mountains are laden with fresh snow; wild streams +are swelling and booming adown the cañons, and out in the valley of the Jordan +a thousand rain-pools are gleaming in the sun. +</p> + +<p> +With reference to the development of fertile storms bearing snow and rain, the +greater portion of the calendar springtime of Utah has been winter. In all the +upper cañons of the mountains the snow is now from five to ten feet deep or +more, and most of it has fallen since March. Almost every other day during the +last three weeks small local storms have been falling on the Wahsatch and +Oquirrh Mountains, while the Jordan Valley remained dry and sun-filled. But on +the afternoon of Thursday, the 17th ultimo, wind, rain, and snow filled the +whole basin, driving wildly over valley and plain from range to range, +bestowing their benefactions in most cordial and harmonious storm-measures. The +oldest Saints say they have never witnessed a more violent storm of this kind +since the first settlement of Zion, and while the gale from the northwest, with +which the storm began, was rocking their adobe walls, uprooting trees and +darkening the streets with billows of dust and sand, some of them seemed +inclined to guess that the terrible phenomenon was one of the signs of the +times of which their preachers are so constantly reminding them, the beginning +of the outpouring of the treasured wrath of the Lord upon the Gentiles for the +killing of Joseph Smith. To me it seemed a cordial outpouring of Nature’s +love; but it is easy to differ with salt Latter-Days in +everything—storms, wives, politics, and religion. +</p> + +<p> +About an hour before the storm reached the city I was so fortunate as to be out +with a friend on the banks of the Jordan enjoying the scenery. Clouds, with +peculiarly restless and self-conscious gestures, were marshaling themselves +along the mountain-tops, and sending out long, overlapping wings across the +valley; and even where no cloud was visible, an obscuring film absorbed the +sunlight, giving rise to a cold, bluish darkness. Nevertheless, distant objects +along the boundaries of the landscape were revealed with wonderful distinctness +in this weird, subdued, cloud-sifted light. The mountains, in particular, with +the forests on their flanks, their mazy lacelike cañons, the wombs of the +ancient glaciers, and their marvelous profusion of ornate sculpture, were most +impressively manifest. One would fancy that a man might be clearly seen walking +on the snow at a distance of twenty or thirty miles. +</p> + +<p> +While we were reveling in this rare, ungarish grandeur, turning from range to +range, studying the darkening sky and listening to the still small voices of +the flowers at our feet, some of the denser clouds came down, crowning and +wreathing the highest peaks and dropping long gray fringes whose smooth linear +structure showed that snow was beginning to fall. Of these partial storms there +were soon ten or twelve, arranged in two rows, while the main Jordan Valley +between them lay as yet in profound calm. At 4:30 p.m. a dark brownish cloud +appeared close down on the plain towards the lake, extending from the northern +extremity of the Oquirrh Range in a northeasterly direction as far as the eye +could reach. Its peculiar color and structure excited our attention without +enabling us to decide certainly as to its character, but we were not left long +in doubt, for in a few minutes it came sweeping over the valley in a wild +uproar, a torrent of wind thick with sand and dust, advancing with a most +majestic front, rolling and overcombing like a gigantic sea-wave. Scarcely was +it in plain sight ere it was upon us, racing across the Jordan, over the city, +and up the slopes of the Wahsatch, eclipsing all the landscapes in its +course—the bending trees, the dust streamers, and the wild onrush of +everything movable giving it an appreciable visibility that rendered it grand +and inspiring. +</p> + +<p> +This gale portion of the storm lasted over an hour, then down came the blessed +rain and the snow all through the night and the next day, the snow and rain +alternating and blending in the valley. It is long since I have seen snow +coming into a city. The crystal flakes falling in the foul streets was a +pitiful sight. +</p> + +<p> +Notwithstanding the vaunted refining influences of towns, purity of all +kinds—pure hearts, pure streams, pure snow—must here be exposed to +terrible trials. City Creek, coming from its high glacial fountains, enters the +streets of this Mormon Zion pure as an angel, but how does it leave it? Even +roses and lilies in gardens most loved are tainted with a thousand impurities +as soon as they unfold. I heard Brigham Young in the Tabernacle the other day +warning his people that if they did not mend their manners angels would not +come into their houses, though perchance they might be sauntering by with +little else to do than chat with them. Possibly there may be Salt Lake families +sufficiently pure for angel society, but I was not pleased with the reception +they gave the small snow angels that God sent among them the other night. Only +the children hailed them with delight. The old Latter-Days seemed to shun them. +I should like to see how Mr. Young, the Lake Prophet, would meet such +messengers. +</p> + +<p> +But to return to the storm. Toward the evening of the 18th it began to wither. +The snowy skirts of the Wahsatch Mountains appeared beneath the lifting fringes +of the clouds, and the sun shone out through colored windows, producing one of +the most glorious after-storm effects I ever witnessed. Looking across the +Jordan, the gray sagey slopes from the base of the Oquirrh Mountains were +covered with a thick, plushy cloth of gold, soft and ethereal as a cloud, not +merely tinted and gilded like a rock with autumn sunshine, but deeply muffled +beyond recognition. Surely nothing in heaven, nor any mansion of the Lord in +all his worlds, could be more gloriously carpeted. Other portions of the plain +were flushed with red and purple, and all the mountains and the clouds above +them were painted in corresponding loveliness. Earth and sky, round and round +the entire landscape, was one ravishing revelation of color, infinitely varied +and interblended. +</p> + +<p> +I have seen many a glorious sunset beneath lifting storm clouds on the +mountains, but nothing comparable with this. I felt as if new-arrived in some +other far-off world. The mountains, the plains, the sky, all seemed new. Other +experiences seemed but to have prepared me for this, as souls are prepared for +heaven. To describe the colors on a single mountain would, if it were possible +at all, require many a volume—purples, and yellows, and delicious pearly +grays divinely toned and interblended, and so richly put on one seemed to be +looking down through the ground as through a sky. The disbanding clouds +lingered lovingly about the mountains, filling the cañons like tinted wool, +rising and drooping around the topmost peaks, fondling their rugged bases, or, +sailing alongside, trailed their lustrous fringes through the pines as if +taking a last view of their accomplished work. Then came darkness, and the +glorious day was done. +</p> + +<p> +This afternoon the Utah mountains and valleys seem to belong to our own very +world again. They are covered with common sunshine. Down here on the banks of +the Jordan, larks and redwings are swinging on the rushes; the balmy air is +instinct with immortal life; the wild flowers, the grass, and the +farmers’ grain are fresh as if, like the snow, they had come out of +heaven, and the last of the angel clouds are fleeing from the mountains. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>VIII. Bathing in Salt Lake<a href="#linknote-10" name="linknoteref-10"><sup>[10]</sup></a></h2> + +<p> +When the north wind blows, bathing in Salt Lake is a glorious baptism, for then +it is all wildly awake with waves, blooming like a prairie in snowy crystal +foam. Plunging confidently into the midst of the grand uproar you are hugged +and welcomed, and swim without effort, rocking and heaving up and down, in +delightful rhythm, while the winds sing in chorus and the cool, fragrant brine +searches every fiber of your body; and at length you are tossed ashore with a +glad Godspeed, braced and salted and clean as a saint. +</p> + +<p> +The nearest point on the shoreline is distant about ten miles from Salt Lake +City, and is almost inaccessible on account of the boggy character of the +ground, but, by taking the Western Utah Railroad, at a distance of twenty miles +you reach what is called Lake Point, where the shore is gravelly and wholesome +and abounds in fine retreating bays that seem to have been made on purpose for +bathing. Here the northern peaks of the Oquirrh Range plant their feet in the +clear blue brine, with fine curbing insteps, leaving no space for muddy levels. +The crystal brightness of the water, the wild flowers, and the lovely mountain +scenery make this a favorite summer resort for pleasure and health seekers. +Numerous excursion trains are run from the city, and parties, some of them +numbering upwards of a thousand, come to bathe, and dance, and roam the flowery +hillsides together. +</p> + +<p> +But at the time of my first visit in May, I fortunately found myself alone. The +hotel and bathhouse, which form the chief improvements of the place, were +sleeping in winter silence, notwithstanding the year was in full bloom. It was +one of those genial sun-days when flowers and flies come thronging to the +light, and birds sing their best. The mountain ranges, stretching majestically +north and south, were piled with pearly cumuli, the sky overhead was pure +azure, and the wind-swept lake was all aroll and aroar with whitecaps. +</p> + +<p> +I sauntered along the shore until I came to a sequestered cove, where +buttercups and wild peas were blooming close down to the limit reached by the +waves. Here, I thought, is just the place for a bath; but the breakers seemed +terribly boisterous and forbidding as they came rolling up the beach, or dashed +white against the rocks that bounded the cove on the east. The outer ranks, +ever broken, ever builded, formed a magnificent rampart, sculptured and +corniced like the hanging wall of a bergschrund, and appeared hopelessly +insurmountable, however easily one might ride the swelling waves beyond. I +feasted awhile on their beauty, watching their coming in from afar like +faithful messengers, to tell their stories one by one; then I turned +reluctantly away, to botanize and wait a calm. But the calm did not come that +day, nor did I wait long. In an hour or two I was back again to the same little +cove. The waves still sang the old storm song, and rose in high crystal walls, +seemingly hard enough to be cut in sections, like ice. +</p> + +<p> +Without any definite determination I found myself undressed, as if some one +else had taken me in hand; and while one of the largest waves was ringing out +its message and spending itself on the beach, I ran out with open arms to the +next, ducked beneath its breaking top, and got myself into right lusty +relationship with the brave old lake. Away I sped in free, glad motion, as if, +like a fish, I had been afloat all my life, now low out of sight in the smooth, +glassy valleys, now bounding aloft on firm combing crests, while the crystal +foam beat against my breast with keen, crisp clashing, as if composed of pure +salt. I bowed to every wave, and each lifted me right royally to its shoulders, +almost setting me erect on my feet, while they all went speeding by like living +creatures, blooming and rejoicing in the brightness of the day, and chanting +the history of their grand mountain home. +</p> + +<p> +A good deal of nonsense has been written concerning the difficulty of swimming +in this heavy water. “One’s head would go down, and heels come up, +and the acrid brine would burn like fire.” I was conscious only of a +joyous exhilaration, my limbs seemingly heeding their own business, without any +discomfort or confusion; so much so, that without previous knowledge my +experience on this occasion would not have led me to detect anything peculiar. +In calm weather, however, the sustaining power of the water might probably be +more marked. This was by far the most exciting and effective wave excursion I +ever made this side of the Rocky Mountains; and when at its close I was heaved +ashore among the sunny grasses and flowers, I found myself a new creature +indeed, and went bounding along the beach with blood all aglow, reinforced by +the best salts of the mountains, and ready for any race. +</p> + +<p> +Since the completion of the transcontinental and Utah railways, this +magnificent lake in the heart of the continent has become as accessible as any +watering-place on either coast; and I am sure that thousands of travelers, sick +and well, would throng its shores every summer were its merits but half known. +Lake Point is only an hour or two from the city, and has hotel accommodations +and a steamboat for excursions; and then, besides the bracing waters, the +climate is delightful. The mountains rise into the cool sky furrowed with +cañons almost yosemitic in grandeur, and filled with a glorious profusion of +flowers and trees. Lovers of science, lovers of wildness, lovers of pure rest +will find here more than they may hope for. +</p> + +<p> +As for the Mormons one meets, however their doctrines be regarded, they will be +found as rich in human kindness as any people in all our broad land, while the +dark memories that cloud their earlier history will vanish from the mind as +completely as when we bathe in the fountain azure of the Sierra. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>IX. Mormon Lilies<a href="#linknote-11" name="linknoteref-11"><sup>[11]</sup></a></h2> + +<p> +Lilies are rare in Utah; so also are their companions the ferns and orchids, +chiefly on account of the fiery saltness of the soil and climate. You may walk +the deserts of the Great Basin in the bloom time of the year, all the way +across from the snowy Sierra to the snowy Wahsatch, and your eyes will be +filled with many a gay malva, and poppy, and abronia, and cactus, but you may +not see a single true lily, and only a very few liliaceous plants of any kind. +Not even in the cool, fresh glens of the mountains will you find these favorite +flowers, though some of these desert ranges almost rival the Sierra in height. +Nevertheless, in the building and planting of this grand Territory the lilies +were not forgotten. Far back in the dim geologic ages, when the sediments of +the old seas were being gathered and outspread in smooth sheets like leaves of +a book, and when these sediments became dry land, and were baked and crumbled +into the sky as mountain ranges; when the lava-floods of the Fire Period were +being lavishly poured forth from innumerable rifts and craters; when the ice of +the Glacial Period was laid like a mantle over every mountain and +valley—throughout all these immensely protracted periods, in the throng +of these majestic operations, Nature kept her flower children in mind. She +considered the lilies, and, while planting the plains with sage and the hills +with cedar, she has covered at least one mountain with golden erythroniums and +fritillarias as its crowning glory, as if willing to show what she could do in +the lily line even here. +</p> + +<p> +Looking southward from the south end of Salt Lake, the two northmost peaks of +the Oquirrh Range are seen swelling calmly into the cool sky without any marked +character, excepting only their snow crowns, and a few weedy-looking patches of +spruce and fir, the simplicity of their slopes preventing their real loftiness +from being appreciated. Gray, sagey plains circle around their bases, and up to +a height of a thousand feet or more their sides are tinged with purple, which I +afterwards found is produced by a close growth of dwarf oak just coming into +leaf. Higher you may detect faint tintings of green on a gray ground, from +young grasses and sedges; then come the dark pine woods filling glacial +hollows, and over all the smooth crown of snow. +</p> + +<p> +While standing at their feet, the other day, shortly after my memorable +excursion among the salt waves of the lake, I said: “Now I shall have +another baptism. I will bathe in the high sky, among cool wind-waves from the +snow.” From the more southerly of the two peaks a long ridge comes down, +bent like a bow, one end in the hot plains, the other in the snow of the +summit. After carefully scanning the jagged towers and battlements with which +it is roughened, I determined to make it my way, though it presented but a +feeble advertisement of its floral wealth. This apparent barrenness, however, +made no great objection just then, for I was scarce hoping for flowers, old or +new, or even for fine scenery. I wanted in particular to learn what the Oquirrh +rocks were made of, what trees composed the curious patches of forest; and, +perhaps more than all, I was animated by a mountaineer’s eagerness to get +my feet into the snow once more, and my head into the clear sky, after lying +dormant all winter at the level of the sea. +</p> + +<p> +But in every walk with Nature one receives far more than he seeks. I had not +gone more than a mile from Lake Point ere I found the way profusely decked with +flowers, mostly compositae and purple leguminosae, a hundred corollas or more +to the square yard, with a corresponding abundance of winged blossoms above +them, moths and butterflies, the leguminosae of the insect kingdom. This +floweriness is maintained with delightful variety all the way up through rocks +and bushes to the snow—violets, lilies, gilias, oenotheras, wallflowers, +ivesias, saxifrages, smilax, and miles of blooming bushes, chiefly azalea, +honeysuckle, brier rose, buckthorn, and eriogonum, all meeting and blending in +divine accord. +</p> + +<p> +Two liliaceous plants in particular, <i>Erythronium grandiflorum</i> and +<i>Fritillaria pudica</i>, are marvelously beautiful and abundant. Never +before, in all my walks, have I met so glorious a throng of these fine showy +liliaceous plants. The whole mountainside was aglow with them, from a height of +fifty-five hundred feet to the very edge of the snow. Although remarkably +fragile, both in form and in substance, they are endowed with plenty of +deep-seated vitality, enabling them to grow in all kinds of places—down +in leafy glens, in the lee of wind-beaten ledges, and beneath the brushy +tangles of azalea, and oak, and prickly roses—everywhere forming the +crowning glory of the flowers. If the neighboring mountains are as rich in +lilies, then this may well be called the Lily Range. +</p> + +<p> +After climbing about a thousand feet above the plain I came to a picturesque +mass of rock, cropping up through the underbrush on one of the steepest slopes +of the mountain. After examining some tufts of grass and saxifrage that were +growing in its fissured surface, I was going to pass it by on the upper side, +where the bushes were more open, but a company composed of the two lilies I +have mentioned were blooming on the lower side, and though they were as yet out +of sight, I suddenly changed my mind and went down to meet them, as if +attracted by the ringing of their bells. They were growing in a small, nestlike +opening between the rock and the bushes, and both the erythronium and the +fritillaria were in full flower. These were the first of the species I had +seen, and I need not try to tell the joy they made. They are both lowly +plants,—lowly as violets,—the tallest seldom exceeding six inches +in height, so that the most searching winds that sweep the mountains scarce +reach low enough to shake their bells. +</p> + +<p> +The fritillaria has five or six linear, obtuse leaves, put on irregularly near +the bottom of the stem, which is usually terminated by one large bell-shaped +flower; but its more beautiful companion, the erythronium, has two radical +leaves only, which are large and oval, and shine like glass. They extend +horizontally in opposite directions, and form a beautiful glossy ground, over +which the one large down-looking flower is swung from a simple stem, the petals +being strongly recurved, like those of <i>Lilium superbum</i>. Occasionally a +specimen is met which has from two to five flowers hung in a loose panicle. +People oftentimes travel far to see curious plants like the carnivorous +darlingtonia, the fly-catcher, the walking fern, etc. I hardly know how the +little bells I have been describing would be regarded by seekers of this class, +but every true flower-lover who comes to consider these Utah lilies will surely +be well rewarded, however long the way. +</p> + +<p> +Pushing on up the rugged slopes, I found many delightful seclusions—moist +nooks at the foot of cliffs, and lilies in every one of them, not growing close +together like daisies, but well apart, with plenty of room for their bells to +swing free and ring. I found hundreds of them in full bloom within two feet of +the snow. In winter only the bulbs are alive, sleeping deep beneath the ground, +like field mice in their nests; then the snow-flowers fall above them, lilies +over lilies, until the spring winds blow, and these winter lilies wither in +turn; then the hiding erythroniums and fritillarias rise again, responsive to +the first touches of the sun. +</p> + +<p> +I noticed the tracks of deer in many places among the lily gardens, and at the +height of about seven thousand feet I came upon the fresh trail of a flock of +wild sheep, showing that these fine mountaineers still flourish here above the +range of Mormon rifles. In the planting of her wild gardens, Nature takes the +feet and teeth of her flocks into account, and makes use of them to trim and +cultivate, and keep them in order, as the bark and buds of the tree are tended +by woodpeckers and linnets. +</p> + +<p> +The evergreen woods consist, as far as I observed, of two species, a spruce and +a fir, standing close together, erect and arrowy in a thrifty, compact growth; +but they are quite small, say from six to twelve or fourteen inches in +diameter, and bout forty feet in height. Among their giant relatives of the +Sierra the very largest would seem mere saplings. A considerable portion of the +south side of the mountain is planted with a species of aspen, called +“quaking asp” by the wood-choppers. It seems to be quite abundant +on many of the eastern mountains of the basin, and forms a marked feature of +their upper forests. +</p> + +<p> +Wading up the curves of the summit was rather toilsome, for the snow, which was +softened by the blazing sun, was from ten to twenty feet deep, but the view was +one of the most impressively sublime I ever beheld. Snowy, ice-sculptured +ranges bounded the horizon all around, while the great lake, eighty miles long +and fifty miles wide, lay fully revealed beneath a lily sky. The shorelines, +marked by a ribbon of white sand, were seen sweeping around many a bay and +promontory in elegant curves, and picturesque islands rising to mountain +heights, and some of them capped with pearly cumuli. And the wide prairie of +water glowing in the gold and purple of evening presented all the colors that +tint the lips of shells and the petals of lilies—the most beautiful lake +this side of the Rocky Mountains. Utah Lake, lying thirty-five miles to the +south, was in full sight also, and the river Jordan, which links the two +together, may be traced in silvery gleams throughout its whole course. +</p> + +<p> +Descending the mountain, I followed the windings of the main central glen on +the north, gathering specimens of the cones and sprays of the evergreens, and +most of the other new plants I had met; but the lilies formed the crowning +glory of my bouquet—the grandest I had carried in many a day. I reached +the hotel on the lake about dusk with all my fresh riches, and my first +mountain ramble in Utah was accomplished. On my way back to the city, the next +day, I met a grave old Mormon with whom I had previously held some Latter-Day +discussions. I shook my big handful of lilies in his face and shouted, +“Here are the true saints, ancient and Latter-Day, enduring +forever!” After he had recovered from his astonishment he said, +“They are nice.” +</p> + +<p> +The other liliaceous plants I have met in Utah are two species of zigadenas, +<i>Fritillaria atropurpurea, Calochortus Nuttallii</i>, and three or four +handsome alliums. One of these lilies, the calochortus, several species of +which are well known in California as the “Mariposa tulips,” has +received great consideration at the hands of the Mormons, for to it hundreds of +them owe their lives. During the famine years between 1853 and 1858, great +destitution prevailed, especially in the southern settlements, on account of +drouth and grasshoppers, and throughout one hungry winter in particular, +thousands of the people subsisted chiefly on the bulbs of the tulips, called +“sego” by the Indians, who taught them its use. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus06"></a> +<img src="images/img06.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="SEGO LILIES" /> +<p class="caption">SEGO LILIES<br/> +(<i>Calochortus Nuttallii</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p> +Liliaceous women and girls are rare among the Mormons. They have seen too much +hard, repressive toil to admit of the development of lily beauty either in form +or color. In general they are thickset, with large feet and hands, and with +sun-browned faces, often curiously freckled like the petals of <i>Fritillaria +atropurpurea</i>. They are fruit rather than flower—good brown bread. But +down in the San Pitch Valley at Gunnison, I discovered a genuine lily, happily +named Lily Young. She is a granddaughter of Brigham Young, slender and +graceful, with lily-white cheeks tinted with clear rose, She was brought up in +the old Salt Lake Zion House, but by some strange chance has been transplanted +to this wilderness, where she blooms alone, the “Lily of San +Pitch.” Pitch is an old Indian, who, I suppose, pitched into the settlers +and thus acquired fame enough to give name to the valley. Here I feel uneasy +about the name of this lily, for the compositors have a perverse trick of +making me say all kinds of absurd things wholly unwarranted by plain copy, and +I fear that the “Lily of San Pitch” will appear in print as the +widow of Sam Patch. But, however this may be, among my memories of this strange +land, that Oquirrh mountain, with its golden lilies, will ever rise in clear +relief, and associated with them will always be the Mormon lily of San Pitch. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>X. The San Gabriel Valley<a href="#linknote-12" name="linknoteref-12"><sup>[12]</sup></a></h2> + +<p> +The sun valley of San Gabriel is one of the brightest spots to be found in all +our bright land, and most of its brightness is wildness—wild south +sunshine in a basin rimmed about with mountains and hills. Cultivation is not +wholly wanting, for here are the choices of all the Los Angeles orange groves, +but its glorious abundance of ripe sun and soil is only beginning to be coined +into fruit. The drowsy bits of cultivation accomplished by the old missionaries +and the more recent efforts of restless Americans are scarce as yet visible, +and when comprehended in general views form nothing more than mere freckles on +the smooth brown bosom of the Valley. +</p> + +<p> +I entered the sunny south half a month ago, coming down along the cool sea, and +landing at Santa Monica. An hour’s ride over stretches of bare, brown +plain, and through cornfields and orange groves, brought me to the handsome, +conceited little town of Los Angeles, where one finds Spanish adobes and Yankee +shingles meeting and overlapping in very curious antagonism. I believe there +are some fifteen thousand people here, and some of their buildings are rather +fine, but the gardens and the sky interested me more. A palm is seen here and +there poising its royal crown in the rich light, and the banana, with its +magnificent ribbon leaves, producing a marked tropical effect—not +semi-tropical, as they are so fond of saying here, while speaking of their +fruits. Nothing I have noticed strikes me as semi, save the brusque little bits +of civilization with which the wilderness is checkered. These are +semi-barbarous or less; everything else in the region has a most exuberant +pronounced wholeness. The city held me but a short time, for the San Gabriel +Mountains were in sight, advertising themselves grandly along the northern sky, +and I was eager to make my way into their midst. +</p> + +<p> +At Pasadena I had the rare good fortune to meet my old friend Doctor Congar, +with whom I had studied chemistry and mathematics fifteen years ago. He exalted +San Gabriel above all other inhabitable valleys, old and new, on the face of +the globe. “I have rambled,” said he, “ever since we left +college, tasting innumerable climates, and trying the advantages offered by +nearly every new State and Territory. Here I have made my home, and here I +shall stay while I live. The geographical position is exactly right, soil and +climate perfect, and everything that heart can wish comes to our +efforts—flowers, fruits, milk and honey, and plenty of money. And +there,” he continued, pointing just beyond his own precious possessions, +“is a block of land that is for sale; buy it and be my neighbor; plant +five acres with orange trees, and by the time your last mountain is climbed +their fruit will be your fortune.” He then led my down the valley, +through the few famous old groves in full bearing, and on the estate of Mr. +Wilson showed me a ten-acre grove eighteen years old, the last year’s +crop from which was sold for twenty thousand dollars. “There,” said +he, with triumphant enthusiasm, “what do you think of that? Two thousand +dollars per acre per annum for land worth only one hundred dollars.” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus07"></a> +<img src="images/img07.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="SAN GABRIEL VALLEY" /> +<p class="caption">SAN GABRIEL VALLEY</p> +</div> + +<p> +The number of orange trees planted to the acre is usually from forty-nine to +sixty-nine; they then stand from twenty-five to thirty feet apart each way, +and, thus planted, thrive and continue fruitful to a comparatively great age. +J. DeBarth Shorb, an enthusiastic believer in Los Angeles and oranges, says, +“We have trees on our property fully forty years old, and eighteen inches +in diameter, that are still vigorous and yielding immense crops of fruit, +although they are only twenty feet apart.” Seedlings are said to begin to +bear remunerative crops in their tenth year, but by superior cultivation this +long unproductive period my be somewhat lessened, while trees from three to +five years old may be purchased from the nurserymen, so that the newcomer who +sets out an orchard may begin to gather fruit by the fifth or sixth year. When +first set out, and for some years afterward, the trees are irrigated by making +rings of earth around them, which are connected with small ditches, through +which the water is distributed to each tree. Or, where the ground is nearly +level, the whole surface is flooded from time to time as required. From 309 +trees, twelve years old from the seed, DeBarth Shorb says that in the season of +1874 he obtained an average of $20.50 per tree, or $1435 per acre, over and +above the cost of transportation to San Francisco, commission on sales, etc. He +considers $1000 per acre a fair average at present prices, after the trees have +reached the age of twelve years. The average price throughout the county for +the last five years has been about $20 or $25 per thousand; and, inasmuch as +the area adapted to orange culture is limited, it is hoped that this price may +not greatly fall for many years. +</p> + +<p> +The lemon and lime are also cultivated here to some extent, and considerable +attention is now being given to the Florida banana, and the olive, almond, and +English walnut. But the orange interest heavily overshadows every other, while +vines have of late years been so unremunerative they are seldom mentioned. +</p> + +<p> +This is pre-eminently a fruit land, but the fame of its productions has in some +way far outrun the results that have as yet been attained. Experiments have +been tried, and good beginnings made, but the number of really valuable, +well-established groves is scarce as one to fifty, compared with the newly +planted. Many causes, however, have combined of late to give the business a +wonderful impetus, and new orchards are being made every day, while the few old +groves, aglow with golden fruit, are the burning and shining lights that direct +and energize the sanguine newcomers. +</p> + +<p> +After witnessing the bad effect of homelessness, developed to so destructive an +extent in California, it would reassure every lover of his race to see the +hearty home-building going on here and the blessed contentment that naturally +follows it. Travel-worn pioneers, who have been tossed about like boulders in +flood time, are thronging hither as to a kind of a terrestrial heaven, resolved +to rest. They build, and plant, and settle, and so come under natural +influences. When a man plants a tree he plants himself. Every root is an +anchor, over which he rests with grateful interest, and becomes sufficiently +calm to feel the joy of living. He necessarily makes the acquaintance of the +sun and the sky. Favorite trees fill his mind, and, while tending them like +children, and accepting the benefits they bring, he becomes himself a +benefactor. He sees down through the brown common ground teeming with colored +fruits, as if it were transparent, and learns to bring them to the surface. +What he wills he can raise by true enchantment. With slips and rootlets, his +magic wands, they appear at his bidding. These, and the seeds he plants, are +his prayers, and by them brought into right relations with God, he works +grander miracles every day than ever were written. +</p> + +<p> +The Pasadena Colony, located on the southwest corner of the well-known San +Pasqual Rancho, is scarce three years old, but it is growing rapidly, like a +pet tree, and already forms one of the best contributions to culture yet +accomplished in the county. It now numbers about sixty families, mostly drawn +from the better class of vagabond pioneers, who, during their rolling-stone +days have managed to gather sufficient gold moss to purchase from ten to forty +acres of land. They are perfectly hilarious in their newly found life, work +like ants in a sunny noonday, and, looking far into the future, hopefully count +their orange chicks ten years or more before they are hatched; supporting +themselves in the meantime on the produce of a few acres of alfalfa, together +with garden vegetables and the quick-growing fruits, such as figs, grapes, +apples, etc., the whole reinforced by the remaining dollars of their land +purchase money. There is nothing more remarkable in the character of the colony +than the literary and scientific taste displayed. The conversation of most I +have met here is seasoned with a smack of mental ozone, Attic salt, which +struck me as being rare among the tillers of California soil. People of taste +and money in search of a home would do well to prospect the resources of this +aristocratic little colony. +</p> + +<p> +If we look now at these southern valleys in general, it will appear at once +that with all their advantages they lie beyond the reach of poor settlers, not +only on account of the high price of irrigable land—one hundred dollars +per acre and upwards—but because of the scarcity of labor. A settler with +three or four thousand dollars would be penniless after paying for twenty acres +of orange land and building ever so plain a house, while many years would go by +ere his trees yielded an income adequate to the maintenance of his family. +</p> + +<p> +Nor is there anything sufficiently reviving in the fine climate to form a +reliable inducement for very sick people. Most of this class, from all I can +learn, come here only to die, and surely it is better to die comfortably at +home, avoiding the thousand discomforts of travel, at a time when they are so +heard to bear. It is indeed pitiful to see so many invalids, already on the +verge of the grave, making a painful way to quack climates, hoping to change +age to youth, and the darkening twilight of their day to morning. No such +health-fountain has been found, and this climate, fine as it is, seems, like +most others, to be adapted for well people only. From all I could find out +regarding its influence upon patients suffering from pulmonary difficulties, it +is seldom beneficial to any great extent in advanced cases. The cold sea winds +are less fatal to this class of sufferers than the corresponding winds further +north, but, notwithstanding they are tempered on their passage inland over +warm, dry ground, they are still more or less injurious. +</p> + +<p> +The summer climate of the fir and pine woods of the Sierra Nevada would, I +think, be found infinitely more reviving; but because these woods have not been +advertised like patent medicines, few seem to think of the spicy, vivifying +influences that pervade their fountain freshness and beauty. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>XI. The San Gabriel Mountains<a href="#linknote-13" name="linknoteref-13"><sup>[13]</sup></a></h2> + +<p> +After saying so much for human culture in my last, perhaps I may now be allowed +a word for wildness—the wildness of this southland, pure and untamable as +the sea. +</p> + +<p> +In the mountains of San Gabriel, overlooking the lowland vines and fruit +groves, Mother Nature is most ruggedly, thornily savage. Not even in the Sierra +have I ever made the acquaintance of mountains more rigidly inaccessible. The +slopes are exceptionally steep and insecure to the foot of the explorer, +however great his strength or skill may be, but thorny chaparral constitutes +their chief defense. With the exception of little park and garden spots not +visible in comprehensive views, the entire surface is covered with it, from the +highest peaks to the plain. It swoops into every hollow and swells over every +ridge, gracefully complying with the varied topography, in shaggy, ungovernable +exuberance, fairly dwarfing the utmost efforts of human culture out of sight +and mind. +</p> + +<p> +But in the very heart of this thorny wilderness, down in the dells, you may +find gardens filled with the fairest flowers, that any child would love, and +unapproachable linns lined with lilies and ferns, where the ousel builds its +mossy hut and sings in chorus with the white falling water. Bears, also, and +panthers, wolves, wildcats; wood rats, squirrels, foxes, snakes, and +innumerable birds, all find grateful homes here, adding wildness to wildness in +glorious profusion and variety. +</p> + +<p> +Where the coast ranges and the Sierra Nevada come together we find a very +complicated system of short ranges, the geology and topography of which is yet +hidden, and many years of laborious study must be given for anything like a +complete interpretation of them. The San Gabriel is one or more of these +ranges, forty or fifty miles long, and half as broad, extending from the Cajon +Pass on the east, to the Santa Monica and Santa Susanna ranges on the west. San +Antonio, the dominating peak, rises towards the eastern extremity of the range +to a height of about six thousand feet, forming a sure landmark throughout the +valley and all the way down to the coast, without, however, possessing much +striking individuality. The whole range, seen from the plain, with the hot sun +beating upon its southern slopes, wears a terribly forbidding aspect. There is +nothing of the grandeur of snow, or glaciers, or deep forests, to excite +curiosity or adventure; no trace of gardens or waterfalls. From base to summit +all seems gray, barren, silent—dead, bleached bones of mountains, +overgrown with scrubby bushes, like gray moss. But all mountains are full of +hidden beauty, and the next day after my arrival at Pasadena I supplied myself +with bread and eagerly set out to give myself to their keeping. +</p> + +<p> +On the first day of my excursion I went only as far as the mouth of Eaton +Cañon, because the heat was oppressive, and a pair of new shoes were chafing +my feet to such an extent that walking began to be painful. While looking for a +camping ground among the boulder beds of the cañon, I came upon a strange, +dark man of doubtful parentage. He kindly invited me to camp with him, and led +me to his little hut. All my conjectures as to his nationality failed, and no +wonder, since his father was Irish and mother Spanish, a mixture not often met +even in California. He happened to be out of candles, so we sat in the dark +while he gave me a sketch of his life, which was exceedingly picturesque. Then +he showed me his plans for the future. He was going to settle among these +cañon boulders, and make money, and marry a Spanish woman. People mine for +irrigating water along the foothills as for gold. He is now driving a +prospecting tunnel into a spur of the mountains back of his cabin. “My +prospect is good,” he said, “and if I strike a strong flow, I shall +soon be worth five or ten thousand dollars. That flat out there,” he +continued, referring to a small, irregular patch of gravelly detritus that had +been sorted out and deposited by Eaton Creek during some flood season, +“is large enough for a nice orange grove, and, after watering my own +trees, I can sell water down the valley; and then the hillside back of the +cabin will do for vines, and I can keep bees, for the white sage and black sage +up the mountains is full of honey. You see, I’ve got a good thing.” +All this prospective affluence in the sunken, boulder-choked flood-bed of Eaton +Creek! Most home-seekers would as soon think of settling on the summit of San +Antonio. +</p> + +<p> +Half an hour’s easy rambling up the cañon brought me to the foot of +“The Fall,” famous throughout the valley settlements as the finest +yet discovered in the range. It is a charming little thing, with a voice sweet +as a songbird’s, leaping some thirty-five or forty feet into a round, +mirror pool. The cliff back of it and on both sides is completely covered with +thick, furry mosses, and the white fall shines against the green like a silver +instrument in a velvet case. Here come the Gabriel lads and lassies from the +commonplace orange groves, to make love and gather ferns and dabble away their +hot holidays in the cool pool. They are fortunate in finding so fresh a retreat +so near their homes. It is the Yosemite of San Gabriel. The walls, though not +of the true Yosemite type either in form or sculpture, rise to a height of +nearly two thousand feet. Ferns are abundant on all the rocks within reach of +the spray, and picturesque maples and sycamores spread a grateful shade over a +rich profusion of wild flowers that grow among the boulders, from the edge of +the pool a mile or more down the dell-like bottom of the valley, the whole +forming a charming little poem of wildness—the vestibule of these shaggy +mountain temples. +</p> + +<p> +The foot of the fall is about a thousand feet above the level of the sea, and +here climbing begins. I made my way out of the valley on the west side, +followed the ridge that forms the western rim of the Eaton Basin to the summit +of one of the principal peaks, thence crossed the middle of the basin, forcing +a way over its many subordinate ridges, and out over the eastern rim, and from +first to last during three days spent in this excursion, I had to contend with +the richest, most self-possessed and uncompromising chaparral I have ever +enjoyed since first my mountaineering began. +</p> + +<p> +For a hundred feet or so the ascent was practicable only by means of bosses of +the club moss that clings to the rock. Above this the ridge is weathered away +to a slender knife-edge for a distance of two or three hundred yards, and +thence to the summit it is a bristly mane of chaparral. Here and there small +openings occur, commanding grand views of the valley and beyond to the ocean. +These are favorite outlooks and resting places for bears, wolves, and wildcats. +In the densest places I came upon woodrat villages whose huts were from four to +eight feet high, built in the same style of architecture as those of the +muskrats. +</p> + +<p> +The day was nearly done. I reached the summit and I had time to make only a +hasty survey of the topography of the wild basin now outspread maplike beneath, +and to drink in the rare loveliness of the sunlight before hastening down in +search of water. Pushing through another mile of chaparral, I emerged into one +of the most beautiful parklike groves of live oak I ever saw. The ground +beneath was planted only with aspidiums and brier roses. At the foot of the +grove I came to the dry channel of one of the tributary streams, but, following +it down a short distance, I descried a few specimens of the scarlet mimulus; +and I was assured that water was near. I found about a bucketful in a granite +bowl, but it was full of leaves and beetles, making a sort of brown coffee that +could be rendered available only by filtering it through sand and charcoal. +This I resolved to do in case the night came on before I found better. +Following the channel a mile farther down to its confluence with another, +larger tributary, I found a lot of boulder pools, clear as crystal, and +brimming full, linked together by little glistening currents just strong enough +to sing. Flowers in full bloom adorned the banks, lilies ten feet high, and +luxuriant ferns arching over one another in lavish abundance, while a noble old +live oak spread its rugged boughs over all, forming one of the most perfect and +most secluded of Nature’s gardens. Here I camped, making my bed on smooth +cobblestones. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning, pushing up the channel of a tributary that takes its rise on +Mount San Antonio, I passed many lovely gardens watered by oozing currentlets, +every one of which had lilies in them in the full pomp of bloom, and a rich +growth of ferns, chiefly woodwardias and aspidiums and maidenhairs; but toward +the base of the mountain the channel was dry, and the chaparral closed over +from bank to bank, so that I was compelled to creep more than a mile on hands +and knees. +</p> + +<p> +In one spot I found an opening in the thorny sky where I could stand erect, and +on the further side of the opening discovered a small pool. “Now, +<i>here</i>,” I said, “I must be careful in creeping, for the birds +of the neighborhood come here to drink, and the rattlesnakes come here to catch +them.” I then began to cast my eye along the channel, perhaps +instinctively feeling a snaky atmosphere, and finally discovered one rattler +between my feet. But there was a bashful look in his eye, and a withdrawing, +deprecating kink in his neck that showed plainly as words could tell that he +would not strike, and only wished to be let alone. I therefore passed on, +lifting my foot a little higher than usual, and left him to enjoy his life in +this his own home. +</p> + +<p> +My next camp was near the heart of the basin, at the head of a grand system of +cascades from ten to two hundred feet high, one following the other in close +succession and making a total descent of nearly seventeen hundred feet. The +rocks above me leaned over in a threatening way and were full of seams, making +the camp a very unsafe one during an earthquake. +</p> + +<p> +Next day the chaparral, in ascending the eastern rim of the basin, was, if +possible, denser and more stubbornly bayoneted than ever. I followed bear +trails, where in some places I found tufts of their hair that had been pulled +out in squeezing a way through; but there was much of a very interesting +character that far overpaid all my pains. Most of the plants are identical with +those of the Sierra, but there are quite a number of Mexican species. One +coniferous tree was all I found. This is a spruce of a species new to me, +<i>Douglasii macrocarpa</i>.<a href="#linknote-14" +name="linknoteref-14"><sup>[14]</sup></a> +</p> + +<p> +My last camp was down at the narrow, notched bottom of a dry channel, the only +open way for the life in the neighborhood. I therefore lay between two fires, +built to fence out snakes and wolves. +</p> + +<p> +From the summit of the eastern rim I had a glorious view of the valley out to +the ocean, which would require a whole book for its description. My bread gave +out a day before reaching the settlements, but I felt all the fresher and +clearer for the fast. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>XII. Nevada Farms<a href="#linknote-15" name="linknoteref-15"><sup>[15]</sup></a></h2> + +<p> +To the farmer who comes to this thirsty land from beneath rainy skies, Nevada +seems one vast desert, all sage and sand, hopelessly irredeemable now and +forever. And this, under present conditions, is severely true. For +notwithstanding it has gardens, grainfields, and hayfields generously +productive, these compared with the arid stretches of valley and plain, as +beheld in general views from the mountain tops, are mere specks lying +inconspicuously here and there, in out-of-the-way places, often thirty or forty +miles apart. +</p> + +<p> +In leafy regions, blessed with copious rains, we learn to measure the +productive capacity of the soil by its natural vegetation. But this rule is +almost wholly inapplicable here, for, notwithstanding its savage nakedness, +scarce at all veiled by a sparse growth of sage and linosyris<a +href="#linknote-16" name="linknoteref-16"><sup>[16]</sup></a>, the desert soil +of the Great Basin is as rich in the elements that in rainy regions rise and +ripen into food as that of any other State in the Union. The rocks of its +numerous mountain ranges have been thoroughly crushed and ground by glaciers, +thrashed and vitalized by the sun, and sifted and outspread in lake basins by +powerful torrents that attended the breaking-up of the glacial period, as if in +every way Nature had been making haste to prepare the land for the husbandman. +Soil, climate, topographical conditions, all that the most exacting could +demand, are present, but one thing, water, is wanting. The present rainfall +would be wholly inadequate for agriculture, even if it were advantageously +distributed over the lowlands, while in fact the greater portion is poured out +on the heights in sudden and violent thundershowers called +“cloud-bursts,” the waters of which are fruitlessly swallowed up in +sandy gulches and deltas a few minutes after their first boisterous appearance. +The principal mountain chains, trending nearly north and south, parallel with +the Sierra and the Wahsatch, receive a good deal of snow during winter, but no +great masses are stored up as fountains for large perennial streams capable of +irrigating considerable areas. Most of it is melted before the end of May and +absorbed by moraines and gravelly taluses, which send forth small rills that +slip quietly down the upper cañons through narrow strips of flowery verdure, +most of them sinking and vanishing before they reach the base of their fountain +ranges. Perhaps not one in ten of the whole number flow out into the open +plains, not a single drop reaches the sea, and only a few are large enough to +irrigate more than one farm of moderate size. +</p> + +<p> +It is upon these small outflowing rills that most of the Nevada ranches are +located, lying countersunk beneath the general level, just where the mountains +meet the plains, at an average elevation of five thousand feet above sea level. +All the cereals and garden vegetables thrive here, and yield bountiful crops. +Fruit, however, has been, as yet, grown successfully in only a few specially +favored spots. +</p> + +<p> +Another distinct class of ranches are found sparsely distributed along the +lowest portions of the plains, where the ground is kept moist by springs, or by +narrow threads of moving water called rivers, fed by some one or more of the +most vigorous of the mountain rills that have succeeded in making their escape +from the mountains. These are mostly devoted to the growth of wild hay, though +in some the natural meadow grasses and sedges have been supplemented by timothy +and alfalfa; and where the soil is not too strongly impregnated with salts, +some grain is raised. Reese River Valley, Big Smoky Valley, and White River +Valley offer fair illustrations of this class. As compared with the foothill +ranches, they are larger and less inconspicuous, as they lie in the wide, +unshadowed levels of the plains—wavy-edged flecks of green in a +wilderness of gray. +</p> + +<p> +Still another class equally well defined, both as to distribution and as to +products, is restricted to that portion of western Nevada and the eastern +border of California which lies within the redeeming influences of California +waters. Three of the Sierra rivers descend from their icy fountains into the +desert like angels of mercy to bless Nevada. These are the Walker, Carson, and +Truckee; and in the valleys through which they flow are found by far the most +extensive hay and grain fields within the bounds of the State. Irrigating +streams are led off right and left through innumerable channels, and the +sleeping ground, starting at once into action, pours forth its wealth without +stint. +</p> + +<p> +But notwithstanding the many porous fields thus fertilized, considerable +portions of the waters of all these rivers continue to reach their old +deathbeds in the desert, indicating that in these salt valleys there still is +room for coming farmers. In middle and eastern Nevada, however, every rill that +I have seen in a ride of three thousand miles, at all available for irrigation, +has been claimed and put to use. +</p> + +<p> +It appears, therefore, that under present conditions the limit of agricultural +development in the dry basin between the Sierra and the Wahsatch has been +already approached, a result caused not alone by natural restrictions as to the +area capable of development, but by the extraordinary stimulus furnished by the +mines to agricultural effort. The gathering of gold and silver, hay and barley, +have gone on together. Most of the mid-valley bogs and meadows, and foothill +rills capable of irrigating from ten to fifty acres, were claimed more than +twenty years ago. +</p> + +<p> +A majority of these pioneer settlers are plodding Dutchmen, living content in +the back lanes and valleys of Nature; but the high price of all kinds of farm +products tempted many of even the keen Yankee prospectors, made wise in +California, to bind themselves down to this sure kind of mining. The wildest of +wild hay, made chiefly of carices and rushes, was sold at from two to three +hundred dollars per ton on ranches. The same kind of hay is still worth from +fifteen to forty dollars per ton, according to the distance from mines and +comparative security from competition. Barley and oats are from forty to one +hundred dollars a ton, while all sorts of garden products find ready sale at +high prices. +</p> + +<p> +With rich mine markets and salubrious climate, the Nevada farmer can make more +money by loose, ragged methods than the same class of farmers in any other +State I have yet seen, while the almost savage isolation in which they live +seems grateful to them. Even in those cases where the advent of neighbors +brings no disputes concerning water rights and ranges, they seem to prefer +solitude, most of them having been elected from adventurers from +California—the pioneers of pioneers. The passing stranger, however, is +always welcomed and supplied with the best the home affords, and around the +fireside, while he smokes his pipe, very little encouragement is required to +bring forth the story of the farmer’s life—hunting, mining, +fighting, in the early Indian times, etc. Only the few who are married hope to +return to California to educate their children, and the ease with which money +is made renders the fulfillment of these hopes comparatively sure. +</p> + +<p> +After dwelling thus long on the farms of this dry wonderland, my readers may be +led to fancy them of more importance as compared with the unbroken fields of +Nature than they really are. Making your way along any of the wide gray valleys +that stretch from north to south, seldom will your eye be interrupted by a +single mark of cultivation. The smooth lake-like ground sweeps on indefinitely, +growing more and more dim in the glowing sunshine, while a mountain range from +eight to ten thousand feet high bounds the view on either hand. No singing +water, no green sod, no moist nook to rest in—mountain and valley alike +naked and shadowless in the sun-glare; and though, perhaps, traveling a +well-worn road to a gold or silver mine, and supplied with repeated +instructions, you can scarce hope to find any human habitation from day to day, +so vast and impressive is the hot, dusty, alkaline wildness. +</p> + +<p> +But after riding some thirty or forty miles, and while the sun may be sinking +behind the mountains, you come suddenly upon signs of cultivation. Clumps of +willows indicate water, and water indicates a farm. Approaching more nearly, +you discover what may be a patch of barley spread out unevenly along the bottom +of a flood bed, broken perhaps, and rendered less distinct by boulder piles and +the fringing willows of a stream. Speedily you can confidently say that the +grain patch is surely such; its ragged bounds become clear; a sand-roofed cabin +comes to view littered with sun-cracked implements and with an outer girdle of +potato, cabbage, and alfalfa patches. +</p> + +<p> +The immense expanse of mountain-girt valleys, on the edges of which these +hidden ranches lie, make even the largest fields seem comic in size. The +smallest, however, are by no means insignificant in a pecuniary view. On the +east side of the Toyabe Range I discovered a jolly Irishman who informed me +that his income from fifty acres, reinforced by a sheep range on the adjacent +hills, was from seven to nine thousand dollars per annum. His irrigating brook +is about four feet wide and eight inches deep, flowing about two miles per +hour. +</p> + +<p> +On Duckwater Creek, Nye County, Mr. Irwin has reclaimed a tule swamp several +hundred acres in extent, which is now chiefly devoted to alfalfa. On +twenty-five acres he claims to have raised this year thirty-seven tons of +barley. Indeed, I have not yet noticed a meager crop of any kind in the State. +Fruit alone is conspicuously absent. +</p> + +<p> +On the California side of the Sierra grain will not ripen at much greater +elevation than four thousand feet above sea level. The valleys of Nevada lie at +a height of from four to six thousand feet, and both wheat and barley ripen, +wherever water may be had, up to seven thousand feet. The harvest, of course, +is later as the elevation increases. In the valleys of the Carson and Walker +Rivers, four thousand feet above the sea, the grain harvest is about a month +later than in California. In Reese River Valley, six thousand feet, it begins +near the end of August. Winter grain ripens somewhat earlier, while +occasionally one meets a patch of barley in some cool, high-lying cañon that +will not mature before the middle of September. +</p> + +<p> +Unlike California, Nevada will probably be always richer in gold and silver +than in grain. Utah farmers hope to change the climate of the east side of the +basin by prayer, and point to the recent rise in the waters of the Great Salt +Lake as a beginning of moister times. But Nevada’s only hope, in the way +of any considerable increase in agriculture, is from artesian wells. The +experiment has been tried on a small scale with encouraging success. But what +is now wanted seems to be the boring of a few specimen wells of a large size +out in the main valleys. The encouragement that successful experiments of this +kind would give to emigration seeking farms forms an object well worthy the +attention of the Government. But all that California farmers in the grand +central valley require is the preservation of the forests and the wise +distribution of the glorious abundance of water from the snow stored on the +west flank of the Sierra. +</p> + +<p> +Whether any considerable area of these sage plains will ever thus be made to +blossom in grass and wheat, experience will show. But in the mean time Nevada +is beautiful in her wildness, and if tillers of the soil can thus be brought to +see that possibly Nature may have other uses even for <i>rich</i> soils besides +the feeding of human beings, then will these foodless “deserts” +have taught a fine lesson. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>XIII. Nevada Forests<a href="#linknote-17" name="linknoteref-17"><sup>[17]</sup></a></h2> + +<p> +When the traveler from California has crossed the Sierra and gone a little way +down the eastern flank, the woods come to an end about as suddenly and +completely as if, going westward, he had reached the ocean. From the very +noblest forests in the world he emerges into free sunshine and dead alkaline +lake-levels. Mountains are seen beyond, rising in bewildering abundance, range +beyond range. But however closely we have been accustomed to associate forests +and mountains, these always present a singularly barren aspect, appearing gray +and forbidding and shadeless, like heaps of ashes dumped from the blazing sky. +</p> + +<p> +But wheresoever we may venture to go in all this good world, nature is ever +found richer and more beautiful than she seems, and nowhere may you meet with +more varied and delightful surprises than in the byways and recesses of this +sublime wilderness—lovely asters and abronias on the dusty plains, +rose-gardens around the mountain wells, and resiny woods, where all seemed so +desolate, adorning the hot foothills as well as the cool summits, fed by +cordial and benevolent storms of rain and hail and snow; all of these scant and +rare as compared with the immeasurable exuberance of California, but still +amply sufficient throughout the barest deserts for a clear manifestation of +God’s love. +</p> + +<p> +Though Nevada is situated in what is called the “Great Basin,” no +less than sixty-five groups and chains of mountains rise within the bounds of +the State to a height of about from eight thousand to thirteen thousand feet +above the level of the sea, and as far as I have observed, every one of these +is planted, to some extent, with coniferous trees, though it is only upon the +highest that we find anything that may fairly be called a forest. The lower +ranges and the foothills and slopes of the higher are roughened with small +scrubby junipers and nut pines, while the dominating peaks, together with the +ridges that swing in grand curves between them, are covered with a closer and +more erect growth of pine, spruce, and fir, resembling the forests of the +Eastern States both as to size and general botanical characteristics. Here is +found what is called the heavy timber, but the tallest and most fully developed +sections of the forests, growing down in sheltered hollows on moist moraines, +would be regarded in California only as groves of saplings, and so, relatively, +they are, for by careful calculation we find that more than a thousand of these +trees would be required to furnish as much timber as may be obtained from a +single specimen of our Sierra giants. +</p> + +<p> +The height of the timberline in eastern Nevada, near the middle of the Great +Basin, is about eleven thousand feet above sea level; consequently the forests, +in a dwarfed, storm-beaten condition, pass over the summits of nearly every +range in the State, broken here and there only by mechanical conditions of the +surface rocks. Only three mountains in the State have as yet come under my +observation whose summits rise distinctly above the treeline. These are +Wheeler’s Peak, twelve thousand three hundred feet high, Mount Moriah, +about twelve thousand feet, and Granite Mountain, about the same height, all of +which are situated near the boundary line between Nevada and Utah Territory. +</p> + +<p> +In a rambling mountaineering journey of eighteen hundred miles across the +state, I have met nine species of coniferous trees,—four pines, two +spruces, two junipers, and one fir,—about one third the number found in +California. By far the most abundant and interesting of these is the <i>Pinus +Fremontiana</i>,<a href="#linknote-18" +name="linknoteref-18"><sup>[18]</sup></a> or nut pine. In the number of +individual trees and extent of range this curious little conifer surpasses all +the others combined. Nearly every mountain in the State is planted with it from +near the base to a height of from eight thousand to nine thousand feet above +the sea. Some are covered from base to summit by this one species, with only a +sparse growth of juniper on the lower slopes to break the continuity of these +curious woods, which, though dark-looking at a little distance, are yet almost +shadeless, and without any hint of the dark glens and hollows so characteristic +of other pine woods. Tens of thousands of acres occur in one continuous belt. +Indeed, viewed comprehensively, the entire State seems to be pretty evenly +divided into mountain ranges covered with nut pines and plains covered with +sage—now a swath of pines stretching from north to south, now a swath of +sage; the one black, the other gray; one severely level, the other sweeping on +complacently over ridge and valley and lofty crowning dome. +</p> + +<p> +The real character of a forest of this sort would never be guessed by the +inexperienced observer. Traveling across the sage levels in the dazzling +sunlight, you gaze with shaded eyes at the mountains rising along their edges, +perhaps twenty miles away, but no invitation that is at all likely to be +understood is discernible. Every mountain, however high it swells into the sky, +seems utterly barren. Approaching nearer, a low brushy growth is seen, +strangely black in aspect, as though it had been burned. This is a nut pine +forest, the bountiful orchard of the red man. When you ascend into its midst +you find the ground beneath the trees, and in the openings also, nearly naked, +and mostly rough on the surface—a succession of crumbling ledges of lava, +limestones, slate, and quartzite, coarsely strewn with soil weathered from +them. Here and there occurs a bunch of sage or linosyris, or a purple aster, or +a tuft of dry bunch-grass. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus08"></a> +<img src="images/img08.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="THE SAGE LEVELS OF THE NEVADA DESERT" /> +<p class="caption">THE SAGE LEVELS OF THE NEVADA DESERT</p> +</div> + +<p> +The harshest mountainsides, hot and waterless, seem best adapted to the nut +pine’s development. No slope is too steep, none too dry; every situation +seems to be gratefully chosen, if only it be sufficiently rocky and firm to +afford secure anchorage for the tough, grasping roots. It is a sturdy, thickset +little tree, usually about fifteen feet high when full grown, and about as +broad as high, holding its knotty branches well out in every direction in stiff +zigzags, but turning them gracefully upward at the ends in rounded bosses. +Though making so dark a mass in the distance, the foliage is a pale grayish +green, in stiff, awl-shaped fascicles. When examined closely these round +needles seem inclined to be two-leaved, but they are mostly held firmly +together, as if to guard against evaporation. The bark on the older sections is +nearly black, so that the boles and branches are clearly traced against the +prevailing gray of the mountains on which they delight to dwell. +</p> + +<p> +The value of this species to Nevada is not easily overestimated. It furnishes +fuel, charcoal, and timber for the mines, and, together with the enduring +juniper, so generally associated with it, supplies the ranches with abundance +of firewood and rough fencing. Many a square mile has already been denuded in +supplying these demands, but, so great is the area covered by it, no +appreciable loss has as yet been sustained. It is pretty generally known that +this tree yields edible nuts, but their importance and excellence as human food +is infinitely greater than is supposed. In fruitful seasons like this one, the +pine nut crop of Nevada is, perhaps, greater than the entire wheat crop of +California, concerning which so much is said and felt throughout the food +markets of the world. +</p> + +<p> +The Indians alone appreciate this portion of Nature’s bounty and +celebrate the harvest home with dancing and feasting. The cones, which are a +bright grass-green in color and about two inches long by one and a half in +diameter, are beaten off with poles just before the scales open, gathered in +heaps of several bushels, and lightly scorched by burning a thin covering of +brushwood over them. The resin, with which the cones are bedraggled, is thus +burned off, the nuts slightly roasted, and the scales made to open. Then they +are allowed to dry in the sun, after which the nuts are easily thrashed out and +are ready to be stored away. They are about half an inch long by a quarter of +an inch in diameter, pointed at the upper end, rounded at the base, light brown +in general color, and handsomely dotted with purple, like birds’ eggs. +The shells are thin, and may be crushed between the thumb and finger. The +kernels are white and waxy-looking, becoming brown by roasting, sweet and +delicious to every palate, and are eaten by birds, squirrels, dogs, horses, and +man. When the crop is abundant the Indians bring in large quantities for sale; +they are eaten around every fireside in the State, and oftentimes fed to horses +instead of barley. +</p> + +<p> +Looking over the whole continent, none of Nature’s bounties seems to me +so great as this in the way of food, none so little appreciated. Fortunately +for the Indians and wild animals that gather around Nature’s board, this +crop is not easily harvested in a monopolizing way. If it could be gathered +like wheat the whole would be carried away and dissipated in towns, leaving the +brave inhabitants of these wilds to starve. +</p> + +<p> +Long before the harvest time, which is in September and October, the Indians +examine the trees with keen discernment, and inasmuch as the cones require two +years to mature from the first appearance of the little red rosettes of the +fertile flowers, the scarcity or abundance of the crop may be predicted more +than a year in advance. Squirrels, and worms, and Clarke crows, make haste to +begin the harvest. When the crop is ripe the Indians make ready their long +beating-poles; baskets, bags, rags, mats, are gotten together. The squaws out +among the settlers at service, washing and drudging, assemble at the family +huts; the men leave their ranch work; all, old and young, are mounted on +ponies, and set off in great glee to the nut lands, forming cavalcades +curiously picturesque. Flaming scarfs and calico skirts stream loosely over the +knotty ponies, usually two squaws astride of each, with the small baby midgets +bandaged in baskets slung on their backs, or balanced upon the saddle-bow, +while the nut baskets and water jars project from either side, and the long +beating-poles, like old-fashioned lances, angle out in every direction. +</p> + +<p> +Arrived at some central point already fixed upon, where water and grass is +found, the squaws with baskets, the men with poles, ascend the ridges to the +laden trees, followed by the children; beating begins with loud noise and +chatter; the burs fly right and left, lodging against stones and sagebrush; the +squaws and children gather them with fine natural gladness; smoke columns +speedily mark the joyful scene of their labors as the roasting fires are +kindled; and, at night, assembled in circles, garrulous as jays, the first +grand nut feast begins. Sufficient quantities are thus obtained in a few weeks +to last all winter. +</p> + +<p> +The Indians also gather several species of berries and dry them to vary their +stores, and a few deer and grouse are killed on the mountains, besides immense +numbers of rabbits and hares; but the pine-nuts are their main +dependence—their staff of life, their bread. +</p> + +<p> +Insects also, scarce noticed by man, come in for their share of this fine +bounty. Eggs are deposited, and the baby grubs, happy fellows, find themselves +in a sweet world of plenty, feeding their way through the heart of the cone +from one nut chamber to another, secure from rain and wind and heat, until +their wings are grown and they are ready to launch out into the free ocean of +air and light. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>XIV. Nevada’s Timber Belt<a href="#linknote-19" name="linknoteref-19"><sup>[19]</sup></a></h2> + +<p> +The pine woods on the tops of the Nevada mountains are already shining and +blooming in winter snow, making a most blessedly refreshing appearance to the +weary traveler down on the gray plains. During the fiery days of summer the +whole of this vast region seems so perfectly possessed by the sun that the very +memories of pine trees and snow are in danger of being burned away, leaving one +but little more than dust and metal. But since these first winter blessings +have come, the wealth and beauty of the landscapes have come fairly into view, +and one is rendered capable of looking and seeing. +</p> + +<p> +The grand nut harvest is over, as far as the Indians are concerned, though +perhaps less than one bushel in a thousand of the whole crop has been gathered. +But the squirrels and birds are still busily engaged, and by the time that +Nature’s ends are accomplished, every nut will doubtless have been put to +use. +</p> + +<p> +All of the nine Nevada conifers mentioned in my last letter are also found in +California, excepting only the Rocky Mountain spruce, which I have not observed +westward of the Snake Range. So greatly, however, have they been made to vary +by differences of soil and climate, that most of them appear as distinct +species. Without seeming in any way dwarfed or repressed in habit, they nowhere +develop to anything like California dimensions. A height of fifty feet and +diameter of twelve or fourteen inches would probably be found to be above the +average size of those cut for lumber. On the margin of the Carson and Humboldt +Sink the larger sage bushes are called “heavy timber”; and to the +settlers here any tree seems large enough for saw-logs. +</p> + +<p> +Mills have been built in the most accessible cañons of the higher ranges, and +sufficient lumber of an inferior kind is made to supply most of the local +demand. The principal lumber trees of Nevada are the white pine (<i>Pinus +flexilis</i>), foxtail pine, and Douglas spruce, or “red pine,” as +it is called here. Of these the first named is most generally distributed, +being found on all the higher ranges throughout the State. In botanical +characters it is nearly allied to the Weymouth, or white, pine of the Eastern +States, and to the sugar and mountain pines of the Sierra. In open situations +it branches near the ground and tosses out long down-curving limbs all around, +often gaining in this way a very strikingly picturesque habit. It is seldom +found lower than nine thousand feet above the level of the sea, but from this +height it pushes upward over the roughest ledges to the extreme limit of tree +growth—about eleven thousand feet. +</p> + +<p> +On the Hot Creek, White Pine, and Golden Gate ranges we find a still hardier +and more picturesque species, called the foxtail pine, from its long dense +leaf-tassels. About a foot or eighteen inches of the ends of the branches are +densely packed with stiff outstanding needles, which radiate all around like an +electric fox- or squirrel-tail. The needles are about an inch and a half long, +slightly curved, elastic, and glossily polished, so that the sunshine sifting +through them makes them burn with a fine silvery luster, while their number and +elastic temper tell delightfully in the singing winds. +</p> + +<p> +This tree is pre-eminently picturesque, far surpassing not only its companion +species of the mountains in this respect, but also the most noted of the +lowland oaks and elms. Some stand firmly erect, feathered with radiant tail +tassels down to the ground, forming slender, tapering towers of shining +verdure; others with two or three specialized branches pushed out at right +angles to the trunk and densely clad with the tasseled sprays, take the form of +beautiful ornamental crosses. Again, in the same woods you find trees that are +made up of several boles united near the ground, and spreading in easy curves +at the sides in a plane parallel to the axis of the mountain, with the elegant +tassels hung in charming order between them the whole making a perfect harp, +ranged across the main wind-lines just where they may be most effective in the +grand storm harmonies. And then there is an infinite variety of arching forms, +standing free or in groups, leaning away from or toward each other in curious +architectural structures,—innumerable tassels drooping under the arches +and radiating above them, the outside glowing in the light, masses of deep +shade beneath, giving rise to effects marvelously beautiful,—while on the +roughest ledges of crumbling limestone are lowly old giants, five or six feet +in diameter, that have braved the storms of more than a thousand years. But, +whether old or young, sheltered or exposed to the wildest gales, this tree is +ever found to be irrepressibly and extravagantly picturesque, offering a richer +and more varied series of forms to the artist than any other species I have yet +seen. +</p> + +<p> +One of the most interesting mountain excursions I have made in the State was up +through a thick spicy forest of these trees to the top of the highest summit of +the Troy Range, about ninety miles to the south of Hamilton. The day was full +of perfect Indian-summer sunshine, calm and bracing. Jays and Clarke crows made +a pleasant stir in the foothill pines and junipers; grasshoppers danced in the +hazy light, and rattled on the wing in pure glee, reviving suddenly from the +torpor of a frosty October night to exuberant summer joy. The squirrels were +working industriously among the falling nuts; ripe willows and aspens made +gorgeous masses of color on the russet hillsides and along the edges of the +small streams that threaded the higher ravines; and on the smooth sloping +uplands, beneath the foxtail pines and firs, the ground was covered with brown +grasses, enriched with sunflowers, columbines, and larkspurs and patches of +linosyris, mostly frost-nipped and gone to seed, yet making fine bits of yellow +and purple in the general brown. +</p> + +<p> +At a height of about ninety-five hundred feet we passed through a magnificent +grove of aspens, about a hundred acres in extent, through which the mellow +sunshine sifted in ravishing splendor, showing every leaf to be as beautiful in +color as the wing of a butterfly, and making them tell gloriously against the +evergreens. These extensive groves of aspen are a marked feature of the Nevada +woods. Some of the lower mountains are covered with them, giving rise to +remarkably beautiful masses of pale, translucent green in spring and summer, +yellow and orange in autumn, while in winter, after every leaf has fallen, the +white bark of the boles and branches seen in mass seems like a cloud of mist +that has settled close down on the mountain, conforming to all its hollows and +ridges like a mantle, yet roughened on the surface with innumerable ascending +spires. +</p> + +<p> +Just above the aspens we entered a fine, close growth of foxtail pine, the +tallest and most evenly planted I had yet seen. It extended along a waving +ridge tending north and south and down both sides with but little interruption +for a distance of about five miles. The trees were mostly straight in the bole, +and their shade covered the ground in the densest places, leaving only small +openings to the sun. A few of the tallest specimens measured over eighty feet, +with a diameter of eighteen inches; but many of the younger trees, growing in +tufts, were nearly fifty feet high, with a diameter of only five or six inches, +while their slender shafts were hidden from top to bottom by a close, fringy +growth of tasseled branchlets. A few white pines and balsam firs occur here and +there, mostly around the edges of sunny openings, where they enrich the air +with their rosiny fragrance, and bring out the peculiar beauties of the +predominating foxtails by contrast. +</p> + +<p> +Birds find grateful homes here—grouse, chickadees, and linnets, of which +we saw large flocks that had a delightfully enlivening effect. But the +woodpeckers are remarkably rare. Thus far I have noticed only one species, the +golden-winged; and but few of the streams are large enough or long enough to +attract the blessed ousel, so common in the Sierra. +</p> + +<p> +On Wheeler’s Peak, the dominating summit of the Snake Mountains, I found +all the conifers I had seen on the other ranges of the State, excepting the +foxtail pine, which I have not observed further east than the White Pine range, +but in its stead the beautiful Rocky Mountain spruce. First, as in the other +ranges, we find the juniper and nut pine; then, higher, the white pine and +balsam fir; then the Douglas spruce and this new Rocky Mountain spruce, which +is common eastward from here, though this range is, as far as I have observed, +its western limit. It is one of the largest and most important of Nevada +conifers, attaining a height of from sixty to eighty feet and a diameter of +nearly two feet, while now and then an exceptional specimen may be found in +shady dells a hundred feet high or more. +</p> + +<p> +The foliage is bright yellowish and bluish green, according to exposure and +age, growing all around the branchlets, though inclined to turn upward from the +undersides, like that of the plushy firs of California, making remarkably +handsome fernlike plumes. While yet only mere saplings five or six inches thick +at the ground, they measure fifty or sixty feet in height and are beautifully +clothed with broad, level, fronded plumes down to the base, preserving a strict +arrowy outline, though a few of the larger branches shoot out in free +exuberance, relieving the spire from any unpicturesque stiffness of aspect, +while the conical summit is crowded with thousands of rich brown cones to +complete its beauty. +</p> + +<p> +We made the ascent of the peak just after the first storm had whitened its +summit and brightened the atmosphere. The foot-slopes are like those of the +Troy range, only more evenly clad with grasses. After tracing a long, rugged +ridge of exceedingly hard quartzite, said to be veined here and there with +gold, we came to the North Dome, a noble summit rising about a thousand feet +above the timberline, its slopes heavily tree-clad all around, but most +perfectly on the north. Here the Rocky Mountain spruce forms the bulk of the +forest. The cones were ripe; most of them had shed their winged seeds, and the +shell-like scales were conspicuously spread, making rich masses of brown from +the tops of the fertile trees down halfway to the ground, cone touching cone in +lavish clusters. A single branch that might be carried in the hand would be +found to bear a hundred or more. +</p> + +<p> +Some portions of the wood were almost impenetrable, but in general we found no +difficulty in mazing comfortably on over fallen logs and under the spreading +boughs, while here and there we came to an opening sufficiently spacious for +standpoints, where the trees around their margins might be seen from top to +bottom. The winter sunshine streamed through the clustered spires, glinting and +breaking into a fine dust of spangles on the spiky leaves and beads of amber +gum, and bringing out the reds and grays and yellows of the lichened boles +which had been freshened by the late storm; while the tip of every spire +looking up through the shadows was dipped in deepest blue. +</p> + +<p> +The ground was strewn with burs and needles and fallen trees; and, down in the +dells, on the north side of the dome, where strips of aspen are imbedded in the +spruces, every breeze sent the ripe leaves flying, some lodging in the spruce +boughs, making them bloom again, while the fresh snow beneath looked like a +fine painting. +</p> + +<p> +Around the dome and well up toward the summit of the main peak, the snow-shed +was well marked with tracks of the mule deer and the pretty stitching and +embroidery of field mice, squirrels, and grouse; and on the way back to camp I +came across a strange track, somewhat like that of a small bear, but more +spreading at the toes. It proved to be that of a wolverine. In my conversations +with hunters, both Indians and white men assure me that there are no bears in +Nevada, notwithstanding the abundance of pine-nuts, of which they are so fond, +and the accessibility of these basin ranges from their favorite haunts in the +Sierra Nevada and Wahsatch Mountains. The mule deer, antelope, wild sheep, +wolverine, and two species of wolves are all of the larger animals that I have +seen or heard of in the State. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>XV. Glacial Phenomena in Nevada<a href="#linknote-20" name="linknoteref-20"><sup>[20]</sup></a></h2> + +<p> +The monuments of the Ice Age in the Great Basin have been greatly obscured and +broken, many of the more ancient of them having perished altogether, leaving +scarce a mark, however faint, of their existence—a condition of things +due not alone to the long-continued action of post-glacial agents, but also in +great part to the perishable character of the rocks of which they were made. +The bottoms of the main valleys, once grooved and planished like the glacier +pavements of the Sierra, lie buried beneath sediments and detritus derived from +the adjacent mountains, and now form the arid sage plains; characteristic +U-shaped cañons have become V-shaped by the deepening of their bottoms and +straightening of their sides, and decaying glacier headlands have been +undermined and thrown down in loose taluses, while most of the moraines and +striae and scratches have been blurred or weathered away. Nevertheless, enough +remains of the more recent and the more enduring phenomena to cast a good light +well back upon the conditions of the ancient ice sheet that covered this +interesting region, and upon the system of distinct glaciers that loaded the +tops of the mountains and filled the cañons long after the ice sheet had been +broken up. +</p> + +<p> +The first glacial traces that I noticed in the basin are on the Wassuck, +Augusta, and Toyabe ranges, consisting of ridges and cañons, whose trends, +contours, and general sculpture are in great part specifically glacial, though +deeply blurred by subsequent denudation. These discoveries were made during the +summer of 1876-77. And again, on the 17th of last August, while making the +ascent of Mount Jefferson, the dominating mountain of the Toquima range, I +discovered an exceedingly interesting group of moraines, cañons with V-shaped +cross sections, wide neve amphitheatres, moutoneed rocks, glacier meadows, and +one glacier lake, all as fresh and telling as if the glaciers to which they +belonged had scarcely vanished. +</p> + +<p> +The best preserved and most regular of the moraines are two laterals about two +hundred feet in height and two miles long, extending from the foot of a +magnificent cañon valley on the north side of the mountain and trending first +in a northerly direction, then curving around to the west, while a +well-characterized terminal moraine, formed by the glacier towards the close of +its existence, unites them near their lower extremities at a height of +eighty-five hundred feet. Another pair of older lateral moraines, belonging to +a glacier of which the one just mentioned was a tributary, extend in a general +northwesterly direction nearly to the level of Big Smoky Valley, about +fifty-five hundred feet above sea level. +</p> + +<p> +Four other cañons, extending down the eastern slopes of this grand old +mountain into Monito Valley, are hardly less rich in glacial records, while the +effects of the mountain shadows in controlling and directing the movements of +the residual glaciers to which all these phenomena belonged are everywhere +delightfully apparent in the trends of the cañons and ridges, and in the +massive sculpture of the neve wombs at their heads. This is a very marked and +imposing mountain, attracting the eye from a great distance. It presents a +smooth and gently curved outline against the sky, as observed from the plains, +and is whitened with patches of enduring snow. The summit is made up of +irregular volcanic tables, the most extensive of which is about two and a half +miles long, and like the smaller ones is broken abruptly down on the edges by +the action of the ice. Its height is approximately eleven thousand three +hundred feet above the sea. +</p> + +<p> +A few days after making these interesting discoveries, I found other +well-preserved glacial traces on Arc Dome, the culminating summit of the Toyabe +Range. On its northeastern slopes there are two small glacier lakes, and the +basins of two others which have recently been filled with down-washed detritus. +One small residual glacier lingered until quite recently beneath the coolest +shadows of the dome, the moraines and névé-fountains of which are still as +fresh and unwasted as many of those lying at the same elevation on the +Sierra—ten thousand feet—while older and more wasted specimens may +be traced on all the adjacent mountains. The sculpture, too, of all the ridges +and summits of this section of the range is recognized at once as glacial, some +of the larger characters being still easily readable from the plains at a +distance of fifteen or twenty miles. +</p> + +<p> +The Hot Creek Mountains, lying to the east of the Toquima and Monito ranges, +reach the culminating point on a deeply serrate ridge at a height of ten +thousand feet above the sea. This ridge is found to be made up of a series of +imposing towers and pinnacles which have been eroded from the solid mass of the +mountain by a group of small residual glaciers that lingered in their shadows +long after the larger ice rivers had vanished. On its western declivities are +found a group of well-characterized moraines, cañons, and <i>roches +moutonnées</i>, all of which are unmistakably fresh and telling. The moraines +in particular could hardly fail to attract the eye of any observer. Some of the +short laterals of the glaciers that drew their fountain snows from the jagged +recesses of the summit are from one to two hundred feet in height, and scarce +at all wasted as yet, notwithstanding the countless storms that have fallen +upon them, while cool rills flow between them, watering charming gardens of +arctic plants—saxifrages, larkspurs, dwarf birch, ribes, and parnassia, +etc.—beautiful memories of the Ice Age, representing a once greatly +extended flora. +</p> + +<p> +In the course of explorations made to the eastward of here, between the 38th +and 40th parallels, I observed glacial phenomena equally fresh and +demonstrative on all the higher mountains of the White Pine, Golden Gate, and +Snake ranges, varying from those already described only as determined by +differences of elevation, relations to the snow-bearing winds, and the physical +characteristics of the rock formations. +</p> + +<p> +On the Jeff Davis group of the Snake Range, the dominating summit of which is +nearly thirteen thousand feet in elevation, and the highest ground in the +basin, every marked feature is a glacier monument—peaks, valleys, ridges, +meadows, and lakes. And because here the snow-fountains lay at a greater +height, while the rock, an exceedingly hard quartzite, offered superior +resistance to post-glacial agents, the ice-characters are on a larger scale, +and are more sharply defined than any we have noticed elsewhere, and it is +probably here that the last lingering glacier of the basin was located. The +summits and connecting ridges are mere blades and points, ground sharp by the +glaciers that descended on both sides to the main valleys. From one standpoint +I counted nine of these glacial channels with their moraines sweeping grandly +out to the plains to deep sheer-walled névé-fountains at their heads, making a +most vivid picture of the last days of the Ice Period. +</p> + +<p> +I have thus far directed attention only to the most recent and appreciable of +the phenomena; but it must be borne in mind that less recent and less obvious +traces of glacial action abound on <i>all</i> the ranges throughout the entire +basin, where the fine striae and grooves have been obliterated, and most of the +moraines have been washed away, or so modified as to be no longer recognizable, +and even the lakes and meadows, so characteristic of glacial regions, have +almost entirely vanished. For there are other monuments, far more enduring than +these, remaining tens of thousands of years after the more perishable records +are lost. Such are the cañons, ridges, and peaks themselves, the glacial +peculiarities of whose trends and contours cannot be hid from the eye of the +skilled observer until changes have been wrought upon them far more destructive +than those to which these basin ranges have yet been subjected. +</p> + +<p> +It appears, therefore, that the last of the basin glaciers have but recently +vanished, and that the almost innumerable ranges trending north and south +between the Sierra and the Wahsatch Mountains were loaded with glaciers that +descended to the adjacent valleys during the last glacial period, and that it +is to this mighty host of ice streams that all the more characteristic of the +present features of these mountain ranges are due. +</p> + +<p> +But grand as is this vision delineated in these old records, this is not all; +for there is not wanting evidence of a still grander glaciation extending over +all the valleys now forming the sage plains as well as the mountains. The +basins of the main valleys alternating with the mountain ranges, and which +contained lakes during at least the closing portion of the Ice Period, were +eroded wholly, or in part, from a general elevated tableland, by immense +glaciers that flowed north and south to the ocean. The mountains as well as the +valleys present abundant evidence of this grand origin. +</p> + +<p> +The flanks of all the interior ranges are seen to have been heavily abraded and +ground away by the ice acting in a direction parallel with their axes. This +action is most strikingly shown upon projecting portions where the pressure has +been greatest. These are shorn off in smooth planes and bossy outswelling +curves, like the outstanding portions of cañon walls. Moreover, the +extremities of the ranges taper out like those of dividing ridges which have +been ground away by dividing and confluent glaciers. Furthermore, the +horizontal sections of separate mountains, standing isolated in the great +valleys, are lens-shaped like those of mere rocks that rise in the channels of +ordinary cañon glaciers, and which have been overflowed or pastflowed, while +in many of the smaller valleys <i>roches moutonnées</i> occur in great +abundance. +</p> + +<p> +Again, the mineralogical and physical characters of the two ranges bounding the +sides of many of the valleys indicate that the valleys were formed simply by +the removal of the material between the ranges. And again, the rim of the +general basin, where it is elevated, as for example on the southwestern +portion, instead of being a ridge sculptured on the sides like a mountain +range, is found to be composed of many short ranges, parallel to one another, +and to the interior ranges, and so modeled as to resemble a row of convex +lenses set on edge and half buried beneath a general surface, without +manifesting any dependence upon synclinal or anticlinal axes—a series of +forms and relations that could have resulted only from the outflow of vast +basin glaciers on their courses to the ocean. +</p> + +<p> +I cannot, however, present all the evidence here bearing upon these interesting +questions, much less discuss it in all its relations. I will, therefore, close +this letter with a few of the more important generalizations that have grown up +out of the facts that I have observed. First, at the beginning of the glacial +period the region now known as the Great Basin was an elevated tableland, not +furrowed as at present with mountains and valleys, but comparatively bald and +featureless. +</p> + +<p> +Second, this tableland, bounded on the east and west by lofty mountain ranges, +but comparatively open on the north and south, was loaded with ice, which was +discharged to the ocean northward and southward, and in its flow brought most, +if not all, the present interior ranges and valleys into relief by erosion. +</p> + +<p> +Third, as the glacial winter drew near its close the ice vanished from the +lower portions of the basin, which then became lakes, into which separate +glaciers descended from the mountains. Then these mountain glaciers vanished in +turn, after sculpturing the ranges into their present condition. +</p> + +<p> +Fourth, the few immense lakes extending over the lowlands, in the midst of +which many of the interior ranges stood as islands, became shallow as the ice +vanished from the mountains, and separated into many distinct lakes, whose +waters no longer reached the ocean. Most of these have disappeared by the +filling of their basins with detritus from the mountains, and now form sage +plains and “alkali flats.” +</p> + +<p> +The transition from one to the other of these various conditions was gradual +and orderly: first, a nearly simple tableland; then a grand <i>mer de glace</i> +shedding its crawling silver currents to the sea, and becoming gradually more +wrinkled as unequal erosion roughened its bed, and brought the highest peaks +and ridges above the surface; then a land of lakes, an almost continuous sheet +of water stretching from the Sierra to the Wahsatch, adorned with innumerable +island mountains; then a slow desiccation and decay to present conditions of +sage and sand. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>XVI. Nevada’s Dead Towns<a href="#linknote-21" name="linknoteref-21"><sup>[21]</sup></a></h2> + +<p> +Nevada is one of the very youngest and wildest of the States; nevertheless it +is already strewn with ruins that seem as gray and silent and time-worn as if +the civilization to which they belonged had perished centuries ago. Yet, +strange to say, all these ruins are results of mining efforts made within the +last few years. Wander where you may throughout the length and breadth of this +mountain-barred wilderness, you everywhere come upon these dead mining towns, +with their tall chimney stacks, standing forlorn amid broken walls and +furnaces, and machinery half buried in sand, the very names of many of them +already forgotten amid the excitements of later discoveries, and now known only +through tradition—tradition ten years old. +</p> + +<p> +While exploring the mountain ranges of the State during a considerable portion +of three summers, I think that I have seen at least five of these deserted +towns and villages for every one in ordinary life. Some of them were probably +only camps built by bands of prospectors, and inhabited for a few months or +years, while some specially interesting cañon was being explored, and then +carelessly abandoned for more promising fields. But many were real towns, +regularly laid out and incorporated, containing well-built hotels, churches, +schoolhouses, post offices, and jails, as well as the mills on which they all +depended; and whose well-graded streets were filled with lawyers, doctors, +brokers, hangmen, real estate agents, etc., the whole population numbering +several thousand. +</p> + +<p> +A few years ago the population of Hamilton is said to have been nearly eight +thousand; that of Treasure Hill, six thousand; of Shermantown, seven thousand; +of Swansea, three thousand. All of these were incorporated towns with mayors, +councils, fire departments, and daily newspapers. Hamilton has now about one +hundred inhabitants, most of whom are merely waiting in dreary inaction for +something to turn up. Treasure Hill has about half as many, Shermantown one +family, and Swansea none, while on the other hand the graveyards are far too +full. +</p> + +<p> +In one cañon of the Toyabe range, near Austin, I found no less than five dead +towns without a single inhabitant. The streets and blocks of “real +estate” graded on the hillsides are rapidly falling back into the +wilderness. Sagebrushes are growing up around the forges of the blacksmith +shops, and lizards bask on the crumbling walls. +</p> + +<p> +While traveling southward from Austin down Big Smoky Valley, I noticed a +remarkably tall and imposing column, rising like a lone pine out of the +sagebrush on the edge of a dry gulch. This proved to be a smokestack of solid +masonry. It seemed strangely out of place in the desert, as if it had been +transported entire from the heart of some noisy manufacturing town and left +here by mistake. I learned afterwards that it belonged to a set of furnaces +that were built by a New York company to smelt ore that never was found. The +tools of the workmen are still lying in place beside the furnaces, as if +dropped in some sudden Indian or earthquake panic and never afterwards handled. +These imposing ruins, together with the desolate town, lying a quarter of a +mile to the northward, present a most vivid picture of wasted effort. Coyotes +now wander unmolested through the brushy streets, and of all the busy throng +that so lavishly spent their time and money here only one man remains—a +lone bachelor with one suspender. +</p> + +<p> +Mining discoveries and progress, retrogression and decay, seem to have been +crowded more closely against each other here than on any other portion of the +globe. Some one of the band of adventurous prospectors who came from the +exhausted placers of California would discover some rich ore—how much or +little mattered not at first. These specimens fell among excited seekers after +wealth like sparks in gunpowder, and in a few days the wilderness was disturbed +with the noisy clang of miners and builders. A little town would then spring +up, and before anything like a careful survey of any particular lode would be +made, a company would be formed, and expensive mills built. Then, after all the +machinery was ready for the ore, perhaps little, or none at all, was to be +found. Meanwhile another discovery was reported, and the young town was +abandoned as completely as a camp made for a single night; and so on, until +some really valuable lode was found, such as those of Eureka, Austin, Virginia, +etc., which formed the substantial groundwork for a thousand other excitements. +</p> + +<p> +Passing through the dead town of Schellbourne last month, I asked one of the +few lingering inhabitants why the town was built. “For the mines,” +he replied. “And where are the mines?” “On the mountains back +here.” “And why were they abandoned?” I asked. “Are +they exhausted?” “Oh, no,” he replied, “they are not +exhausted; on the contrary, they have never been worked at all, for +unfortunately, just as we were about ready to open them, the Cherry Creek mines +were discovered across the valley in the Egan range, and everybody rushed off +there, taking what they could with them—houses machinery, and all. But we +are hoping that somebody with money and speculation will come and revive us +yet.” +</p> + +<p> +The dead mining excitements of Nevada were far more intense and destructive in +their action than those of California, because the prizes at stake were +greater, while more skill was required to gain them. The long trains of +gold-seekers making their way to California had ample time and means to recover +from their first attacks of mining fever while crawling laboriously across the +plains, and on their arrival on any portion of the Sierra gold belt, they at +once began to make money. No matter in what gulch or cañon they worked, some +measure of success was sure, however unskillful they might be. And though while +making ten dollars a day they might be agitated by hopes of making twenty, or +of striking their picks against hundred- or thousand-dollar nuggets, men of +ordinary nerve could still work on with comparative steadiness, and remain +rational. +</p> + +<p> +But in the case of the Nevada miner, he too often spent himself in years of +weary search without gaining a dollar, traveling hundreds of miles from +mountain to mountain, burdened with wasting hopes of discovering some hidden +vein worth millions, enduring hardships of the most destructive kind, driving +innumerable tunnels into the hillsides, while his assayed specimens again and +again proved worthless. Perhaps one in a hundred of these brave prospectors +would “strike it rich,” while ninety-nine died alone in the +mountains or sank out of sight in the corners of saloons, in a haze of whiskey +and tobacco smoke. +</p> + +<p> +The healthful ministry of wealth is blessed; and surely it is a fine thing that +so many are eager to find the gold and silver that lie hid in the veins of the +mountains. But in the search the seekers too often become insane, and strike +about blindly in the dark like raving madmen. Seven hundred and fifty tons of +ore from the original Eberhardt mine on Treasure Hill yielded a million and a +half dollars, the whole of this immense sum having been obtained within two +hundred and fifty feet of the surface, the greater portion within one hundred +and forty feet. Other ore masses were scarcely less marvelously rich, giving +rise to one of the most violent excitements that ever occurred in the history +of mining. All kinds of people—shoemakers, tailors, farmers, etc., as +well as miners—left their own right work and fell in a perfect storm of +energy upon the White Pine Hills, covering the ground like grasshoppers, and +seeming determined by the very violence of their efforts to turn every stone to +silver. But with few exceptions, these mining storms pass away about as +suddenly as they rise, leaving only ruins to tell of the tremendous energy +expended, as heaps of giant boulders in the valley tell of the spent power of +the mountain floods. +</p> + +<p> +In marked contrast with this destructive unrest is the orderly deliberation +into which miners settle in developing a truly valuable mine. At Eureka we were +kindly led through the treasure chambers of the Richmond and Eureka +Consolidated, our guides leisurely leading the way from level to level, calling +attention to the precious ore masses which the workmen were slowly breaking to +pieces with their picks, like navvies wearing away the day in a railroad +cutting; while down at the smelting works the bars of bullion were handled with +less eager haste than the farmer shows in gathering his sheaves. +</p> + +<p> +The wealth Nevada has already given to the world is indeed wonderful, but the +only grand marvel is the energy expended in its development. The amount of +prospecting done in the face of so many dangers and sacrifices, the innumerable +tunnels and shafts bored into the mountains, the mills that have been +built—these would seem to require a race of giants. But, in full view of +the substantial results achieved, the pure waste manifest in the ruins one +meets never fails to produce a saddening effect. +</p> + +<p> +The dim old ruins of Europe, so eagerly sought after by travelers, have +something pleasing about them, whatever their historical associations; for they +at least lend some beauty to the landscape. Their picturesque towers and arches +seem to be kindly adopted by nature, and planted with wild flowers and wreathed +with ivy; while their rugged angles are soothed and freshened and embossed with +green mosses, fresh life and decay mingling in pleasing measures, and the whole +vanishing softly like a ripe, tranquil day fading into night. So, also, among +the older ruins of the East there is a fitness felt. They have served their +time, and like the weather-beaten mountains are wasting harmoniously. The same +is in some degree true of the dead mining towns of California. +</p> + +<p> +But those lying to the eastward of the Sierra throughout the ranges of the +Great Basin waste in the dry wilderness like the bones of cattle that have died +of thirst. Many of them do not represent any good accomplishment, and have no +right to be. They are monuments of fraud and ignorance—sins against +science. The drifts and tunnels in the rocks may perhaps be regarded as the +prayers of the prospector, offered for the wealth he so earnestly craves; but, +like prayers of any kind not in harmony with nature, they are unanswered. But, +after all, effort, however misapplied, is better than stagnation. Better toil +blindly, beating every stone in turn for grains of gold, whether they contain +any or not, than lie down in apathetic decay. +</p> + +<p> +The fever period is fortunately passing away. The prospector is no longer the +raving, wandering ghoul of ten years ago, rushing in random lawlessness among +the hills, hungry and footsore; but cool and skillful, well supplied with every +necessary, and clad in his right mind. Capitalists, too, and the public in +general, have become wiser, and do not take fire so readily from mining sparks; +while at the same time a vast amount of real work is being done, and the ratio +between growth and decay is constantly becoming better. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap17"></a>XVII. Puget Sound</h2> + +<p> +Washington Territory, recently admitted<a href="#linknote-22" +name="linknoteref-22"><sup>[22]</sup></a> into the Union as a State, lies +between latitude 46 degrees and 49 degrees and longitude 117 degrees and 125 +degrees, forming the northwest shoulder of the United States. The majestic +range of the Cascade Mountains naturally divides the State into two distinct +parts, called Eastern and Western Washington, differing greatly from each other +in almost every way, the western section being less than half as large as the +eastern, and, with its copious rains and deep fertile soil, being clothed with +forests of evergreens, while the eastern section is dry and mostly treeless, +though fertile in many parts, and producing immense quantities of wheat and +hay. Few States are more fertile and productive in one way or another than +Washington, or more strikingly varied in natural features or resources. +</p> + +<p> +Within her borders every kind of soil and climate may be found—the +densest woods and dryest plains, the smoothest levels and roughest mountains. +She is rich in square miles (some seventy thousand of them), in coal, timber, +and iron, and in sheltered inland waters that render these resources +advantageously accessible. She also is already rich in busy workers, who work +hard, though not always wisely, hacking, burning, blasting their way deeper +into the wilderness, beneath the sky, and beneath the ground. The wedges of +development are being driven hard, and none of the obstacles or defenses of +nature can long withstand the onset of this immeasurable industry. +</p> + +<p> +Puget Sound, so justly famous the world over for the surpassing size and +excellence and abundance of its timber, is a long, many-fingered arm of the sea +reaching southward from the head of the Strait of Juan de Fuca into the heart +of the grand forests of the western portion of Washington, between the Cascade +Range and the mountains of the coast. It is less than a hundred miles in +length, but so numerous are the branches into which it divides, and so many its +bays, harbors, and islands, that its entire shoreline is said to measure more +than eighteen hundred miles. Throughout its whole vast extent ships move in +safety, and find shelter from every wind that blows, the entire mountain-girt +sea forming one grand unrivaled harbor and center for commerce. +</p> + +<p> +The forest trees press forward to the water around all the windings of the +shores in most imposing array, as if they were courting their fate, coming down +from the mountains far and near to offer themselves to the axe, thus making the +place a perfect paradise for the lumberman. To the lover of nature the scene is +enchanting. Water and sky, mountain and forest, clad in sunshine and clouds, +are composed in landscapes sublime in magnitude, yet exquisitely fine and +fresh, and full of glad, rejoicing life. The shining waters stretch away into +the leafy wilderness, now like the reaches of some majestic river and again +expanding into broad roomy spaces like mountain lakes, their farther edges +fading gradually and blending with the pale blue of the sky. The wooded shores +with an outer fringe of flowering bushes sweep onward in beautiful curves +around bays, and capes, and jutting promontories innumerable; while the +islands, with soft, waving outlines, lavishly adorned with spruces and cedars, +thicken and enrich the beauty of the waters; and the white spirit mountains +looking down from the sky keep watch and ward over all, faithful and changeless +as the stars. +</p> + +<p> +All the way from the Strait of Juan de Fuca up to Olympia, a hopeful town +situated at the head of one of the farthest-reaching of the fingers of the +Sound, we are so completely inland and surrounded by mountains that it is hard +to realize that we are sailing on a branch of the salt sea. We are constantly +reminded of Lake Tahoe. There is the same clearness of the water in calm +weather without any trace of the ocean swell, the same picturesque winding and +sculpture of the shoreline and flowery, leafy luxuriance; only here the trees +are taller and stand much closer together, and the backgrounds are higher and +far more extensive. Here, too, we find greater variety amid the marvelous +wealth of islands and inlets, and also in the changing views dependent on the +weather. As we double cape after cape and round the uncounted islands, new +combinations come to view in endless variety, sufficient to fill and satisfy +the lover of wild beauty through a whole life. +</p> + +<p> +Oftentimes in the stillest weather, when all the winds sleep and no sign of +storms is felt or seen, silky clouds form and settle over all the land, leaving +in sight only a circle of water with indefinite bounds like views in mid-ocean; +then, the clouds lifting, some islet will be presented standing alone, with the +tops of its trees dipping out of sight in pearly gray fringes; or, lifting +higher, and perhaps letting in a ray of sunshine through some rift overhead, +the whole island will be set free and brought forward in vivid relief amid the +gloom, a girdle of silver light of dazzling brightness on the water about its +shores, then darkening again and vanishing back into the general gloom. Thus +island after island may be seen, singly or in groups, coming and going from +darkness to light like a scene of enchantment, until at length the entire cloud +ceiling is rolled away, and the colossal cone of Mount Rainier is seen in +spotless white looking down over the forests from a distance of sixty miles, +but so lofty and so massive and clearly outlined as to impress itself upon us +as being just back of a strip of woods only a mile or two in breadth. +</p> + +<p> +For the tourist sailing to Puget Sound from San Francisco there is but little +that is at all striking in the scenery within reach by the way until the mouth +of the Strait of Juan de Fuca is reached. The voyage is about four days in +length and the steamers keep within sight of the coast, but the hills fronting +the sea up to Oregon are mostly bare and uninviting, the magnificent redwood +forests stretching along this portion of the California coast seeming to keep +well back, away from the heavy winds, so that very little is seen of them; +while there are no deep inlets or lofty mountains visible to break the regular +monotony. Along the coast of Oregon the woods of spruce and fir come down to +the shore, kept fresh and vigorous by copious rains, and become denser and +taller to the northward until, rounding Cape Flattery, we enter the Strait of +Fuca, where, sheltered from the ocean gales, the forests begin to hint the +grandeur they attain in Puget Sound. Here the scenery in general becomes +exceedingly interesting; for now we have arrived at the grand mountain-walled +channel that forms the entrance to that marvelous network of inland waters that +extends along the margin of the continent to the northward for a thousand +miles. +</p> + +<p> +This magnificent inlet was named for Juan de Fuca, who discovered it in 1592 +while seeking a mythical strait, supposed to exist somewhere in the north, +connecting the Atlantic and Pacific. It is about seventy miles long, ten or +twelve miles wide, and extends to the eastward in a nearly straight line +between the south end of Vancouver Island and the Olympic Range of mountains on +the mainland. +</p> + +<p> +Cape Flattery, the western termination of the Olympic Range, is terribly rugged +and jagged, and in stormy weather is utterly inaccessible from the sea. Then +the ponderous rollers of the deep Pacific thunder amid its caverns and cliffs +with the foam and uproar of a thousand Yosemite waterfalls. The bones of many a +noble ship lie there, and many a sailor. It would seem unlikely that any living +thing should seek rest in such a place, or find it. Nevertheless, frail and +delicate flowers bloom there, flowers of both the land and the sea; heavy, +ungainly seals disport in the swelling waves, and find grateful retreats back +in the inmost bores of its storm-lashed caverns; while in many a chink and +hollow of the highest crags, not visible from beneath, a great variety of +waterfowl make homes and rear their young. +</p> + +<p> +But not always are the inhabitants safe, even in such wave-defended castles as +these, for the Indians of the neighboring shores venture forth in the calmest +summer weather in their frail canoes to spear the seals in the narrow gorges +amid the grinding, gurgling din of the restless waters. At such times also the +hunters make out to scale many of the apparently inaccessible cliffs for the +eggs and young of the gulls and other water birds, occasionally losing their +lives in these perilous adventures, which give rise to many an exciting story +told around the campfires at night when the storms roar loudest. +</p> + +<p> +Passing through the strait, we have the Olympic Mountains close at hand on the +right, Vancouver Island on the left, and the snowy peak of Mount Baker straight +ahead in the distance. During calm weather, or when the clouds are lifting and +rolling off the mountains after a storm, all these views are truly magnificent. +Mount Baker is one of that wonderful series of old volcanoes that once flamed +along the summits of the Sierras and Cascades from Lassen to Mount St. Elias. +Its fires are sleeping now, and it is loaded with glaciers, streams of ice +having taken the place of streams of glowing lava. Vancouver Island presents a +charming variety of hill and dale, open sunny spaces and sweeps of dark forest +rising in swell beyond swell to the high land in the distance. +</p> + +<p> +But the Olympic Mountains most of all command attention, seen tellingly near +and clear in all their glory, rising from the water’s edge into the sky +to a height of six or eight thousand feet. They bound the strait on the south +side throughout its whole extent, forming a massive sustained wall, flowery and +bushy at the base, a zigzag of snowy peaks along the top, which have +ragged-edged fields of ice and snow beneath them, enclosed in wide +amphitheaters opening to the waters of the strait through spacious +forest-filled valleys enlivened with fine, dashing streams. These valleys mark +the courses of the Olympic glaciers at the period of their greatest extension, +when they poured their tribute into that portion of the great northern ice +sheet that overswept the south end of Vancouver Island and filled the strait +with flowing ice as it is now filled with ocean water. +</p> + +<p> +The steamers of the Sound usually stop at Esquimalt on their way up, thus +affording tourists an opportunity to visit the interesting town of Victoria, +the capital of British Columbia. The Victoria harbor is too narrow and +difficult of access for the larger class of ships; therefore a landing has to +be made at Esquimalt. The distance, however, is only about three miles, and the +way is delightful, winding on through a charming forest of Douglas spruce, with +here and there groves of oak and madrone, and a rich undergrowth of hazel, +dogwood, willow, alder, spiraea, rubus, huckleberry, and wild rose. Pretty +cottages occur at intervals along the road, covered with honeysuckle, and many +an upswelling rock, freshly glaciated and furred with yellow mosses and lichen, +telling interesting stories of the icy past. +</p> + +<p> +Victoria is a quiet, handsome, breezy town, beautifully located on finely +modulated ground at the mouth of the Canal de Haro, with charming views in +front, of islands and mountains and far-reaching waters, ever changing in the +shifting lights and shades of the clouds and sunshine. In the background there +are a mile or two of field and forest and sunny oak openings; then comes the +forest primeval, dense and shaggy and well-nigh impenetrable. +</p> + +<p> +Notwithstanding the importance claimed for Victoria as a commercial center and +the capital of British Columbia, it has a rather young, loose-jointed +appearance. The government buildings and some of the business blocks on the +main streets are well built and imposing in bulk and architecture. These are +far less interesting and characteristic, however, than the mansions set in the +midst of spacious pleasure grounds and the lovely home cottages embowered in +honeysuckle and climbing roses. One soon discovers that this is no Yankee town. +The English faces and the way that English is spoken alone would tell that; +while in business quarters there is a staid dignity and moderation that is very +noticeable, and a want of American push and hurrah. Love of land and of privacy +in homes is made manifest in the residences, many of which are built in the +middle of fields and orchards or large city blocks, and in the loving care with +which these home grounds are planted. They are very beautiful. The fineness of +the climate, with its copious measure of warm moisture distilling in dew and +fog, and gentle, bathing, laving rain, give them a freshness and floweriness +that is worth going far to see. +</p> + +<p> +Victoria is noted for its fine drives, and every one who can should either walk +or drive around the outskirts of the town, not only for the fine views out over +the water but to see the cascades of bloom pouring over the gables of the +cottages, and the fresh wild woods with their flowery, fragrant underbrush. +Wild roses abound almost everywhere. One species, blooming freely along the +woodland paths, is from two to three inches in diameter, and more fragrant than +any other wild rose I ever saw excepting the sweetbriar. This rose and three +species of spiraea fairly fill the air with fragrance after a shower. And how +brightly then do the red berries of the dogwood shine out from the warm +yellow-green of leaves and mosses! +</p> + +<p> +But still more interesting and significant are the glacial phenomena displayed +hereabouts. All this exuberant tree, bush, and herbaceous vegetation, +cultivated or wild, is growing upon moraine beds outspread by waters that +issued from the ancient glaciers at the time of their recession, and scarcely +at all moved or in any way modified by post-glacial agencies. The town streets +and the roads are graded in moraine material, among scratched and grooved rock +bosses that are as unweathered and telling as any to be found in the glacier +channels of Alaska. The harbor also is clearly of glacial origin. The rock +islets that rise here and there, forming so marked a feature of the harbor, are +unchanged <i>roches moutonnées</i>, and the shores are grooved, scratched, and +rounded, and in every way as glacial in all their characteristics as those of a +newborn glacial lake. +</p> + +<p> +Most visitors to Victoria go to the stores of the Hudson’s Bay Company, +presumably on account of the romantic associations, or to purchase a bit of fur +or some other wild-Indianish trinket as a memento. At certain seasons of the +year, when the hairy harvests are gathered in, immense bales of skins may be +seen in these unsavory warehouses, the spoils of many thousand hunts over +mountain and plain, by lonely river and shore. The skins of bears, wolves, +beavers, otters, fishers, martens, lynxes, panthers, wolverine, reindeer, +moose, elk, wild goats, sheep, foxes, squirrels, and many others of our +“poor earth-born companions and fellow mortals” may here be found. +</p> + +<p> +Vancouver is the southmost and the largest of the countless islands forming the +great archipelago that stretches a thousand miles to the northward. Its shores +have been known a long time, but little is known of the lofty mountainous +interior on account of the difficulties in the way of explorations—lake, +bogs, and shaggy tangled forests. It is mostly a pure, savage wilderness, +without roads or clearings, and silent so far as man is concerned. Even the +Indians keep close to the shore, getting a living by fishing, dwelling together +in villages, and traveling almost wholly by canoes. White settlements are few +and far between. Good agricultural lands occur here and there on the edge of +the wilderness, but they are hard to clear, and have received but little +attention thus far. Gold, the grand attraction that lights the way into all +kinds of wildernesses and makes rough places smooth, has been found, but only +in small quantities, too small to make much motion. Almost all the industry of +the island is employed upon lumber and coal, in which, so far as known, its +chief wealth lies. +</p> + +<p> +Leaving Victoria for Port Townsend, after we are fairly out on the free open +water, Mount Baker is seen rising solitary over a dark breadth of forest, +making a glorious show in its pure white raiment. It is said to be about eleven +thousand feet high, is loaded with glaciers, some of which come well down into +the woods, and never, so far as I have heard, has been climbed, though in all +probability it is not inaccessible. The task of reaching its base through the +dense woods will be likely to prove of greater difficulty than the climb to the +summit. +</p> + +<p> +In a direction a little to the left of Mount Baker and much nearer, may be seen +the island of San Juan, famous in the young history of the country for the +quarrels concerning its rightful ownership between the Hudson’s Bay +Company and Washington Territory, quarrels which nearly brought on war with +Great Britain. Neither party showed any lack of either pluck or gunpowder. +General Scott was sent out by President Buchanan to negotiate, which resulted +in a joint occupancy of the island. Small quarrels, however, continued to arise +until the year 1874, when the peppery question was submitted to the Emperor of +Germany for arbitration. Then the whole island was given to the United States. +</p> + +<p> +San Juan is one of a thickset cluster of islands that fills the waters between +Vancouver and the mainland, a little to the north of Victoria. In some of the +intricate channels between these islands the tides run at times like impetuous +rushing rivers, rendering navigation rather uncertain and dangerous for the +small sailing vessels that ply between Victoria and the settlements on the +coast of British Columbia and the larger islands. The water is generally deep +enough everywhere, too deep in most places for anchorage, and, the winds +shifting hither and thither or dying away altogether, the ships, getting no +direction from their helms, are carried back and forth or are caught in some +eddy where two currents meet and whirled round and round to the dismay of the +sailors, like a chip in a river whirlpool. +</p> + +<p> +All the way over to Port Townsend the Olympic Mountains well maintain their +massive, imposing grandeur, and present their elaborately carved summits in +clear relief, many of which are out of sight in coming up the strait on account +of our being too near the base of the range. Turn to them as often as we may, +our admiration only grows the warmer the longer we dwell upon them. The highest +peaks are Mount Constance and Mount Olympus, said to be about eight thousand +feet high. +</p> + +<p> +In two or three hours after leaving Victoria, we arrive at the handsome little +town of Port Townsend, situated at the mouth of Puget Sound, on the west side. +The residential portion of the town is set on the level top of the bluff that +bounds Port Townsend Bay, while another nearly level space of moderate extent, +reaching from the base of the bluff to the shoreline, is occupied by the +business portion, thus making a town of two separate and distinct stories, +which are connected by long, ladder-like flights of stairs. In the streets of +the lower story, while there is no lack of animation, there is but little +business noise as compared with the amount of business transacted. This in +great part is due to the scarcity of horses and wagons. Farms and roads back in +the woods are few and far between. Nearly all the tributary settlements are on +the coast, and communication is almost wholly by boats, canoes, and schooners. +Hence country stages and farmers’ wagons and buggies, with the whir and +din that belong to them, are wanting. +</p> + +<p> +This being the port of entry, all vessels have to stop here, and they make a +lively show about the wharves and in the bay. The winds stir the flags of every +civilized nation, while the Indians in their long-beaked canoes glide about +from ship to ship, satisfying their curiosity or trading with the crews. Keen +traders these Indians are, and few indeed of the sailors or merchants from any +country ever get the better of them in bargains. Curious groups of people may +often be seen in the streets and stores, made up of English, French, Spanish, +Portuguese, Scandinavians, Germans, Greeks, Moors, Japanese, and Chinese, of +every rank and station and style of dress and behavior; settlers from many a +nook and bay and island up and down the coast; hunters from the wilderness; +tourists on their way home by the Sound and the Columbia River or to Alaska or +California. +</p> + +<p> +The upper story of Port Townsend is charmingly located, wide bright waters on +one side, flowing evergreen woods on the other. The streets are well laid out +and well tended, and the houses, with their luxuriant gardens about them, have +an air of taste and refinement seldom found in towns set on the edge of a wild +forest. The people seem to have come here to make true homes, attracted by the +beauty and fresh breezy healthfulness of the place as well as by business +advantages, trusting to natural growth and advancement instead of restless +“booming” methods. They perhaps have caught some of the spirit of +calm moderation and enjoyment from their English neighbors across the water. Of +late, however, this sober tranquillity has begun to give way, some whiffs from +the whirlwind of real estate speculation up the Sound having at length touched +the town and ruffled the surface of its calmness. +</p> + +<p> +A few miles up the bay is Fort Townsend, which makes a pretty picture with the +green woods rising back of it and the calm water in front. Across the mouth of +the Sound lies the long, narrow Whidbey Island, named by Vancouver for one of +his lieutenants. It is about thirty miles in length, and is remarkable in this +region of crowded forests and mountains as being comparatively open and low. +The soil is good and easily worked, and a considerable portion of the island +has been under cultivation for many years. Fertile fields, open, parklike +groves of oak, and thick masses of evergreens succeed one another in charming +combinations to make this “the garden spot of the Territory.” +</p> + +<p> +Leaving Port Townsend for Seattle and Tacoma, we enter the Sound and sail down +into the heart of the green, aspiring forests, and find, look where we may, +beauty ever changing, in lavish profusion. Puget Sound, “the +Mediterranean of America” as it is sometimes called, is in many respects +one of the most remarkable bodies of water in the world. Vancouver, who came +here nearly a hundred years ago and made a careful survey of it, named the +larger northern portion of it “Admiralty Inlet” and one of the +long, narrow branches “Hood’s Canal,” applying the name +“Puget Sound” only to the comparatively small southern portion. The +latter name, however, is now applied generally to the entire inlet, and is +commonly shortened by the people hereabouts to “The Sound.” The +natural wealth and commercial advantages of the Sound region were quickly +recognized, and the cause of the activity prevailing here is not far to seek. +Vancouver, long before civilization touched these shores, spoke of it in terms +of unstinted praise. He was sent out by the British government with the +principal object in view of “acquiring accurate knowledge as to the +nature and extent of any water communication which may tend in any considerable +degree to facilitate an intercourse for the purposes of commerce between the +northwest coast and the country on the opposite side of the continent,” +vague traditions having long been current concerning a strait supposed to unite +the two oceans. Vancouver reported that he found the coast from San Francisco +to Oregon and beyond to present a nearly straight solid barrier to the sea, +without openings, and we may well guess the joy of the old navigator on the +discovery of these waters after so long and barren a search to the southward. +</p> + +<p> +His descriptions of the scenery—Mounts Baker, Rainier, St. Helen’s, +etc.—were as enthusiastic as those of the most eager landscape lover of +the present day, when scenery is in fashion. He says in one place: “To +describe the beauties of this region will, on some future occasion, be a very +grateful task for the pen of a skillful panegyrist. The serenity of the +climate, the immeasurable pleasing landscapes, and the abundant fertility that +unassisted nature puts forth, require only to be enriched by the industry of +man with villages, mansions, cottages, and other buildings, to render it the +most lovely country that can be imagined. The labor of the inhabitants would be +amply rewarded in the bounties which nature seems ready to bestow on +cultivation.” “A picture so pleasing could not fail to call to our +remembrance certain delightful and beloved situations in old England.” So +warm, indeed, were the praises he sung that his statements were received in +England with a good deal of hesitation. But they were amply corroborated by +Wilkes and others who followed many years later. “Nothing,” says +Wilkes, “can exceed the beauty of these waters and their safety. Not a +shoal exists in the Straits of Juan de Fuca, Admiralty Inlet, Puget Sound or +Hood’s Canal, that can in any way interrupt their navigation by a 74-gun +ship. I venture nothing in saying there is no country in the world that +possesses waters like these.” And again, quoting from the United States +Coast Survey, “For depth of water, boldness of approaches, freedom from +hidden dangers, and the immeasurable sea of gigantic timber coming down to the +very shores, these waters are unsurpassed, unapproachable.” +</p> + +<p> +The Sound region has a fine, fresh, clean climate, well washed both winter and +summer with copious rains and swept with winds and clouds that come from the +mountains and the sea. Every hidden nook in the depths of the woods is searched +and refreshed, leaving no stagnant air; beaver meadows and lake basin and low +and willowy bogs, all are kept wholesome and sweet the year round. Cloud and +sunshine alternate in bracing, cheering succession, and health and abundance +follow the storms. The outer sea margin is sublimely dashed and drenched with +ocean brine, the spicy scud sweeping at times far inland over the bending +woods, the giant trees waving and chanting in hearty accord as if surely +enjoying it all. +</p> + +<p> +Heavy, long-continued rains occur in the winter months. Then every leaf, bathed +and brightened, rejoices. Filtering drops and currents through all the shaggy +undergrowth of the woods go with tribute to the small streams, and these again +to the larger. The rivers swell, but there are no devastating floods; for the +thick felt of roots and mosses holds the abounding waters in check, stored in a +thousand thousand fountains. Neither are there any violent hurricanes here, At +least, I never have heard of any, nor have I come upon their tracks. Most of +the streams are clear and cool always, for their waters are filtered through +deep beds of mosses, and flow beneath shadows all the way to the sea. Only the +streams from the glaciers are turbid and muddy. On the slopes of the mountains +where they rush from their crystal caves, they carry not only small particles +of rock-mud, worn off the sides and bottoms of the channels of the glaciers, +but grains of sand and pebbles and large boulders tons in weight, rolling them +forward on their way rumbling and bumping to their appointed places at the foot +of steep slopes, to be built into rough bars and beds, while the smaller +material is carried farther and outspread in flats, perhaps for coming wheat +fields and gardens, the finest of it going out to sea, floating on the tides +for weeks and months ere it finds rest on the bottom. +</p> + +<p> +Snow seldom falls to any great depth on the lowlands, though it comes in +glorious abundance on the mountains. And only on the mountains does the +temperature fall much below the freezing point. In the warmest summer weather a +temperature of eighty-five degrees or even more occasionally is reached, but +not for long at a time, as such heat is speedily followed by a breeze from the +sea. The most charming days here are days of perfect calm, when all the winds +are holding their breath and not a leaf stirs. The surface of the Sound shines +like a silver mirror over all its vast extent, reflecting its lovely islands +and shores; and long sheets of spangles flash and dance in the wake of every +swimming seabird and boat. The sun, looking down on the tranquil landscape, +seems conscious of the presence of every living thing on which he is pouring +his blessings, while they in turn, with perhaps the exception of man, seem +conscious of the sun as a benevolent father and stand hushed and waiting. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap18"></a>XVIII. The Forests of Washington</h2> + +<p> +When we force our way into the depths of the forests, following any of the +rivers back to their fountains, we find that the bulk of the woods is made up +of the Douglas spruce (<i>Pseudotsuga Douglasii</i>), named in honor of David +Douglas, an enthusiastic botanical explorer of early Hudson’s Bay times. +It is not only a very large tree but a very beautiful one, with lively +bright-green drooping foliage, handsome pendent cones, and a shaft exquisitely +straight and regular. For so large a tree it is astonishing how many find +nourishment and space to grow on any given area. The magnificent shafts push +their spires into the sky close together with as regular a growth as that of a +well-tilled field of grain. And no ground has been better tilled for the growth +of trees than that on which these forests are growing. For it has been +thoroughly ploughed and rolled by the mighty glaciers from the mountains, and +sifted and mellowed and outspread in beds hundreds of feet in depth by the +broad streams that issued from their fronts at the time of their recession, +after they had long covered all the land. +</p> + +<p> +The largest tree of this species that I have myself measured was nearly twelve +feet in diameter at a height of five feet from the ground, and, as near as I +could make out under the circumstances, about three hundred feet in length. It +stood near the head of the Sound not far from Olympia. I have seen a few +others, both near the coast and thirty or forty miles back in the interior, +that were from eight to ten feet in diameter, measured above their bulging +insteps; and many from six to seven feet. I have heard of some that were said +to be three hundred and twenty-five feet in height and fifteen feet in +diameter, but none that I measured were so large, though it is not at all +unlikely that such colossal giants do exist where conditions of soil and +exposure are surpassingly favorable. The average size of all the trees of this +species found up to an elevation on the mountain slopes of, say, two thousand +feet above sea level, taking into account only what may be called mature trees +two hundred and fifty to five hundred years of age, is perhaps, at a vague +guess, not more than a height of one hundred and seventy-five or two hundred +feet and a diameter of three feet; though, of course, throughout the richest +sections the size is much greater. +</p> + +<p> +In proportion to its weight when dry, the timber from this tree is perhaps +stronger than that of any other conifer in the country. It is tough and durable +and admirably adapted in every way for shipbuilding, piles, and heavy timbers +in general. But its hardness and liability to warp render it much inferior to +white or sugar pine for fine work. In the lumber markets of California it is +known as “Oregon pine” and is used almost exclusively for spars, +bridge timbers, heavy planking, and the framework of houses. +</p> + +<p> +The same species extends northward in abundance through British Columbia and +southward through the coast and middle regions of Oregon and California. It is +also a common tree in the cañons and hollows of the Wahsatch Mountains in +Utah, where it is called “red pine” and on portions of the Rocky +Mountains and some of the short ranges of the Great Basin. Along the coast of +California it keeps company with the redwood wherever it can find a favorable +opening. On the western slope of the Sierra, with the yellow pine and incense +cedar, it forms a pretty well-defined belt at a height of from three thousand +to six thousand feet above the sea, and extends into the San Gabriel and San +Bernardino Mountains in Southern California. But, though widely distributed, it +is only in these cool, moist northlands that it reaches its finest development, +tall, straight, elastic, and free from limbs to an immense height, growing down +to tide water, where ships of the largest size may lie close alongside and load +at the least possible cost. +</p> + +<p> +Growing with the Douglas we find the white spruce, or “Sitka pine,” +as it is sometimes called. This also is a very beautiful and majestic tree, +frequently attaining a height of two hundred feet or more and a diameter of +five or six feet. It is very abundant in southeastern Alaska, forming the +greater part of the best forests there. Here it is found mostly around the +sides of beaver-dam and other meadows and on the borders of the streams, +especially where the ground is low. One tree that I saw felled at the head of +the Hop-Ranch meadows on the upper Snoqualmie River, though far from being the +largest I have seen, measured a hundred and eighty feet in length and four and +a half in diameter, and was two hundred and fifty-seven years of age. +</p> + +<p> +In habit and general appearance it resembles the Douglas spruce, but it is +somewhat less slender and the needles grow close together all around the +branchlets and are so stiff and sharp-pointed on the younger branches that they +cannot well be handled without gloves. The timber is tough, close-grained, +white, and looks more like pine than any other of the spruces. It splits +freely, makes excellent shingles and in general use in house-building takes the +place of pine. I have seen logs of this species a hundred feet long and two +feet in diameter at the upper end. It was named in honor of the old Scotch +botanist Archibald Menzies, who came to this coast with Vancouver in 1792<a +href="#linknote-23" name="linknoteref-23"><sup>[23]</sup></a>. +</p> + +<p> +The beautiful hemlock spruce with its warm yellow-green foliage is also common +in some portions of these woods. It is tall and slender and exceedingly +graceful in habit before old age comes on, but the timber is inferior and is +seldom used for any other than the roughest work, such as wharf-building. +</p> + +<p> +The Western arbor-vitæ<a href="#linknote-24" +name="linknoteref-24"><sup>[24]</sup></a> (<i>Thuja gigantea</i>) grows to a +size truly gigantic on low rich ground. Specimens ten feet in diameter and a +hundred and forty feet high are not at all rare. Some that I have heard of are +said to be fifteen and even eighteen feet thick. Clad in rich, glossy plumes, +with gray lichens covering their smooth, tapering boles, perfect trees of this +species are truly noble objects and well worthy the place they hold in these +glorious forests. It is of this tree that the Indians make their fine canoes. +</p> + +<p> +Of the other conifers that are so happy as to have place here, there are three +firs, three or four pines, two cypresses, a yew, and another spruce, the +<i>Abies Pattoniana</i><a href="#linknote-25" +name="linknoteref-25"><sup>[25]</sup></a>. This last is perhaps the most +beautiful of all the spruces, but, being comparatively small and growing only +far back on the mountains, it receives but little attention from most people. +Nor is there room in a work like this for anything like a complete description +of it, or of the others I have just mentioned. Of the three firs, one (<i>Picea +grandis</i>)<a href="#linknote-26" name="linknoteref-26"><sup>[26]</sup></a>, +grows near the coast and is one of the largest trees in the forest, sometimes +attaining a height of two hundred and fifty feet. The timber, however, is +inferior in quality and not much sought after while so much that is better is +within reach. One of the others (<i>P. amabilis</i>, var. <i>nobilis</i>) forms +magnificent forests by itself at a height of about three thousand to four +thousand feet above the sea. The rich plushy, plumelike branches grow in +regular whorls around the trunk, and on the topmost whorls, standing erect, are +the large, beautiful cones. This is far the most beautiful of all the firs. In +the Sierra Nevada it forms a considerable portion of the main forest belt on +the western slope, and it is there that it reaches its greatest size and +greatest beauty. The third species (<i>P. subalpina</i>) forms, together with +<i>Abies Pattoniana</i>, the upper edge of the timberline on the portion of the +Cascades opposite the Sound. A thousand feet below the extreme limit of tree +growth it occurs in beautiful groups amid parklike openings where flowers grow +in extravagant profusion. +</p> + +<p> +The pines are nowhere abundant in the State. The largest, the yellow pine +(<i>Pinus ponderosa</i>), occurs here and there on margins of dry gravelly +prairies, and only in such situations have I yet seen it in this State. The +others (<i>P. monticola</i> and <i>P. contorta</i>) are mostly restricted to +the upper slopes of the mountains, and though the former of these two attains a +good size and makes excellent lumber, it is mostly beyond reach at present and +is not abundant. One of the cypresses (<i>Cupressus Lawsoniana</i>)<a +href="#linknote-27" name="linknoteref-27"><sup>[27]</sup></a> grows near the +coast and is a fine large tree, clothed like the arbor-vitae in a glorious +wealth of flat, feathery branches. The other is found here and there well up +toward the edge of the timberline. This is the fine Alaska cedar (<i>C. +Nootkatensis</i>), the lumber from which is noted for its durability, fineness +of grain, and beautiful yellow color, and for its fragrance, which resembles +that of sandalwood. The Alaska Indians make their canoe paddles of it and weave +matting and coarse cloth from the fibrous brown bark. +</p> + +<p> +Among the different kinds of hardwood trees are the oak, maple, madrona, birch, +alder, and wild apple, while large cottonwoods are common along the rivers and +shores of the numerous lakes. +</p> + +<p> +The most striking of these to the traveler is the Menzies arbutus, or madrona, +as it is popularly called in California. Its curious red and yellow bark, large +thick glossy leaves, and panicles of waxy-looking greenish-white urn-shaped +flowers render it very conspicuous. On the boles of the younger trees and on +all the branches, the bark is so smooth and seamless that it does not appear as +bark at all, but rather the naked wood. The whole tree, with the exception of +the larger part of the trunk, looks as though it had been thoroughly peeled. It +is found sparsely scattered along the shores of the Sound and back in the +forests also on open margins, where the soil is not too wet, and extends up the +coast on Vancouver Island beyond Nanaimo. But in no part of the State does it +reach anything like the size and beauty of proportions that it attains in +California, few trees here being more than ten or twelve inches in diameter and +thirty feet high. It is, however, a very remarkable-looking object, standing +there like some lost or runaway native of the tropics, naked and painted, +beside that dark mossy ocean of northland conifers. Not even a palm tree would +seem more out of place here. +</p> + +<p> +The oaks, so far as my observation has reached, seem to be most abundant and to +grow largest on the islands of the San Juan and Whidbey Archipelago. One of the +three species of maples that I have seen is only a bush that makes tangles on +the banks of the rivers. Of the other two one is a small tree, crooked and +moss-grown, holding out its leaves to catch the light that filters down through +the close-set spires of the great spruces. It grows almost everywhere +throughout the entire extent of the forest until the higher slopes of the +mountains are reached, and produces a very picturesque and delightful effect; +relieving the bareness of the great shafts of the evergreens, without being +close enough in its growth to hide them wholly, or to cover the bright mossy +carpet that is spread beneath all the dense parts of the woods. +</p> + +<p> +The other species is also very picturesque and at the same time very large, the +largest tree of its kind that I have ever seen anywhere. Not even in the great +maple woods of Canada have I seen trees either as large or with so much +striking, picturesque character. It is widely distributed throughout western +Washington, but is never found scattered among the conifers in the dense woods. +It keeps together mostly in magnificent groves by itself on the damp levels +along the banks of streams or lakes where the ground is subject to overflow. In +such situations it attains a height of seventy-five to a hundred feet and a +diameter of four to eight feet. The trunk sends out large limbs toward its +neighbors, laden with long drooping mosses beneath and rows of ferns on their +upper surfaces, thus making a grand series of richly ornamented interlacing +arches, with the leaves laid thick overhead, rendering the underwood spaces +delightfully cool and open. Never have I seen a finer forest ceiling or a more +picturesque one, while the floor, covered with tall ferns and rubus and thrown +into hillocks by the bulging roots, matches it well. The largest of these maple +groves that I have yet found is on the right bank of the Snoqualmie River, +about a mile above the falls. The whole country hereabouts is picturesque, and +interesting in many ways, and well worthy a visit by tourists passing through +the Sound region, since it is now accessible by rail from Seattle. +</p> + +<p> +Looking now at the forests in a comprehensive way, we find in passing through +them again and again from the shores of the Sound to their upper limits, that +some portions are much older than others, the trees much larger, and the ground +beneath them strewn with immense trunks in every stage of decay, representing +several generations of growth, everything about them giving the impression that +these are indeed the “forests primeval,” while in the younger +portions, where the elevation of the ground is the same as to the sea level and +the species of trees are the same as well as the quality of the soil, apart +from the moisture which it holds, the trees seem to be and are mostly of the +same age, perhaps from one hundred to two or three hundred years, with no +gray-bearded, venerable patriarchs—forming tall, majestic woods without +any grandfathers. +</p> + +<p> +When we examine the ground we find that it is as free from those mounds of +brown crumbling wood and mossy ancient fragments as are the growing trees from +very old ones. Then perchance, we come upon a section farther up the slopes +towards the mountains that has no trees more than fifty years old, or even +fifteen or twenty years old. These last show plainly enough that they have been +devastated by fire, as the black, melancholy monuments rising here and there +above the young growth bear witness. Then, with this fiery, suggestive +testimony, on examining those sections whose trees are a hundred years old or +two hundred, we find the same fire records, though heavily veiled with mosses +and lichens, showing that a century or two ago the forests that stood there had +been swept away in some tremendous fire at a time when rare conditions of +drouth made their burning possible. Then, the bare ground sprinkled with the +winged seed from the edges of the burned district, a new forest sprang up, +nearly every tree starting at the same time or within a few years, thus +producing the uniformity of size we find in such places; while, on the other +hand, in those sections of ancient aspect containing very old trees both +standing and fallen, we find no traces of fire, nor from the extreme dampness +of the ground can we see any possibility of fire ever running there. +</p> + +<p> +Fire, then, is the great governing agent in forest distribution and to a great +extent also in the conditions of forest growth. Where fertile lands are very +wet one half the year and very dry the other, there can be no forests at all. +Where the ground is damp, with drouth occurring only at intervals of centuries, +fine forests may be found, other conditions being favorable. But it is only +where fires never run that truly ancient forests of pitchy coniferous trees may +exist. When the Washington forests are seen from the deck of a ship out in the +middle of the sound, or even from the top of some high, commanding mountain, +the woods seem everywhere perfectly solid. And so in fact they are in general +found to be. The largest openings are those of the lakes and prairies, the +smaller of beaver meadows, bogs, and the rivers; none of them large enough to +make a distinct mark in comprehensive views. +</p> + +<p> +Of the lakes there are said to be some thirty in King’s County alone; the +largest, Lake Washington, being twenty-six miles long and four miles wide. +Another, which enjoys the duckish name of Lake Squak, is about ten miles long. +Both are pure and beautiful, lying imbedded in the green wilderness. The rivers +are numerous and are but little affected by the weather, flowing with deep, +steady currents the year round. They are short, however, none of them drawing +their sources from beyond the Cascade Range. Some are navigable for small +steamers on their lower courses, but the openings they make in the woods are +very narrow, the tall trees on their banks leaning over in some places, making +fine shady tunnels. +</p> + +<p> +The largest of the prairies that I have seen lies to the south of Tacoma on the +line of the Portland and Tacoma Railroad. The ground is dry and gravelly, a +deposit of water-washed cobbles and pebbles derived from +moraines—conditions which readily explain the absence of trees here and +on other prairies adjacent to Yelm. Berries grow in lavish abundance, enough +for man and beast with thousands of tons to spare. The woods are full of them, +especially about the borders of the waters and meadows where the sunshine may +enter. Nowhere in the north does Nature set a more bountiful table. There are +huckleberries of many species, red, blue, and black, some of them growing close +to the ground, others on bushes eight to ten feet high; also salal berries, +growing on a low, weak-stemmed bush, a species of gaultheria, seldom more than +a foot or two high. This has pale pea-green glossy leaves two or three inches +long and half an inch wide and beautiful pink flowers, urn-shaped, that make a +fine, rich show. The berries are black when ripe, are extremely abundant, and, +with the huckleberries, form an important part of the food of the Indians, who +beat them into paste, dry them, and store them away for winter use, to be eaten +with their oily fish. The salmon-berry also is very plentiful, growing in dense +prickly tangles. The flowers are as large as wild roses and of the same color, +and the berries measure nearly an inch in diameter. Besides these there are +gooseberries, currants, raspberries, blackberries, and, in some favored spots, +strawberries. The mass of the underbrush of the woods is made up in great part +of these berry-bearing bushes. Together with white-flowered spiraea twenty feet +high, hazel, dogwood, wild rose, honeysuckle, symphoricarpus, etc. But in the +depths of the woods, where little sunshine can reach the ground, there is but +little underbrush of any kind, only a very light growth of huckleberry and +rubus and young maples in most places. The difficulties encountered by the +explorer in penetrating the wilderness are presented mostly by the streams and +bogs, with their tangled margins, and the fallen timber and thick carpet of +moss covering all the ground. +</p> + +<p> +Notwithstanding the tremendous energy displayed in lumbering and the grand +scale on which it is being carried on, and the number of settlers pushing into +every opening in search of farmlands, the woods of Washington are still almost +entirely virgin and wild, without trace of human touch, savage or civilized. +Indians, no doubt, have ascended most of the rivers on their way to the +mountains to hunt the wild sheep and goat to obtain wool for their clothing, +but with food in abundance on the coast they had little to tempt them into the +wilderness, and the monuments they have left in it are scarcely more +conspicuous than those of squirrels and bears; far less so than those of the +beavers, which in damming the streams have made clearings and meadows which +will continue to mark the landscape for centuries. Nor is there much in these +woods to tempt the farmer or cattle raiser. A few settlers established homes on +the prairies or open borders of the woods and in the valleys of the Chehalis +and Cowlitz before the gold days of California. Most of the early immigrants +from the Eastern States, however, settled in the fertile and open Willamette +Valley or Oregon. Even now, when the search for land is so keen, with the +exception of the bottom lands around the Sound and on the lower reaches of the +rivers, there are comparatively few spots of cultivation in western Washington. +On every meadow or opening of any kind some one will be found keeping cattle, +planting hop vines, or raising hay, vegetables, and patches of grain. All the +large spaces available, even back near the summits of the Cascade Mountains, +were occupied long ago. The newcomers, building their cabins where the beavers +once built theirs, keep a few cows and industriously seek to enlarge their +small meadow patches by chopping, girdling, and burning the edge of the +encircling forest, gnawing like beavers, and scratching for a living among the +blackened stumps and logs, regarding the trees as their greatest +enemies—a sort of larger pernicious weed immensely difficult to get rid +of. +</p> + +<p> +But all these are as yet mere spots, making no visible scar in the distance and +leaving the grand stretches of the forest as wild as they were before the +discovery of the continent. For many years the axe has been busy around the +shores of the Sound and ships have been falling in perpetual storm like flakes +of snow. The best of the timber has been cut for a distance of eight or ten +miles from the water and to a much greater distance along the streams deep +enough to float the logs. Railroads, too, have been built to fetch in the logs +from the best bodies of timber otherwise inaccessible except at great cost. +None of the ground, however, has been completely denuded. Most of the young +trees have been left, together with the hemlocks and other trees undesirable in +kind or in some way defective, so that the neighboring trees appear to have +closed over the gaps make by the removal of the larger and better ones, +maintaining the general continuity of the forest and leaving no sign on the +sylvan sea, at least as seen from a distance. +</p> + +<p> +In felling the trees they cut them off usually at a height of six to twelve +feet above the ground, so as to avoid cutting through the swollen base, where +the diameter is so much greater. In order to reach this height the chopper cuts +a notch about two inches wide and three or four deep and drives a board into +it, on which he stands while at work. In case the first notch, cut as high as +he can reach, is not high enough, he stands on the board that has been driven +into the first notch and cuts another. Thus the axeman may often be seen at +work standing eight or ten feet above the ground. If the tree is so large that +with his long-handled axe the chopper is unable to reach to the farther side of +it, then a second chopper is set to work, each cutting halfway across. And when +the tree is about to fall, warned by the faint crackling of the strained +fibers, they jump to the ground, and stand back out of danger from flying +limbs, while the noble giant that had stood erect in glorious strength and +beauty century after century, bows low at last and with gasp and groan and +booming throb falls to earth. +</p> + +<p> +Then with long saws the trees are cut into logs of the required length, peeled, +loaded upon wagons capable of carrying a weight of eight or ten tons, hauled by +a long string of oxen to the nearest available stream or railroad, and floated +or carried to the Sound. There the logs are gathered into booms and towed by +steamers to the mills, where workmen with steel spikes in their boots leap +lightly with easy poise from one to another and by means of long pike poles +push them apart and, selecting such as are at the time required, push them to +the foot of a chute and drive dogs into the ends, when they are speedily hauled +in by the mill machinery alongside the saw carriage and placed and fixed in +position. Then with sounds of greedy hissing and growling they are rushed back +and forth like enormous shuttles, and in an incredibly short time they are +lumber and are aboard the ships lying at the mill wharves. +</p> + +<p> +Many of the long, slender boles so abundant in these woods are saved for spars, +and so excellent is their quality that they are in demand in almost every +shipyard of the world. Thus these trees, felled and stripped of their leaves +and branches, are raised again, transplanted and set firmly erect, given roots +of iron and a new foliage of flapping canvas, and sent to sea. On they speed in +glad, free motion, cheerily waving over the blue, heaving water, responsive to +the same winds that rocked them when they stood at home in the woods. After +standing in one place all their lives they now, like sight-seeing tourists, go +round the world, meeting many a relative from the old home forest, some like +themselves, wandering free, clad in broad canvas foliage, others planted head +downward in mud, holding wharf platforms aloft to receive the wares of all +nations. +</p> + +<p> +The mills of Puget sound and those of the redwood region of California are said +to be the largest and most effective lumber-makers in the world. Tacoma alone +claims to have eleven sawmills, and Seattle about as many; while at many other +points on the Sound, where the conditions are particularly favorable, there are +immense lumbering establishments, as at Ports Blakely, Madison, Discovery, +Gamble, Ludlow, etc., with a capacity all together of over three million feet a +day. Nevertheless, the observer coming up the Sound sees not nor hears anything +of this fierce storm of steel that is devouring the forests, save perhaps the +shriek of some whistle or the columns of smoke that mark the position of the +mills. All else seems as serene and unscathed as the silent watching mountains. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap19"></a>XIX. People and Towns of Puget Sound</h2> + +<p> +As one strolls in the woods about the logging camps, most of the lumbermen are +found to be interesting people to meet, kind and obliging and sincere, full of +knowledge concerning the bark and sapwood and heartwood of the trees they cut, +and how to fell them without unnecessary breakage, on ground where they may be +most advantageously sawed into logs and loaded for removal. The work is hard, +and all of the older men have a tired, somewhat haggard appearance. Their faces +are doubtful in color, neither sickly nor quite healthy-looking, and seamed +with deep wrinkles like the bark of the spruces, but with no trace of anxiety. +Their clothing is full of rosin and never wears out. A little of everything in +the woods is stuck fast to these loggers, and their trousers grow constantly +thicker with age. In all their movements and gestures they are heavy and +deliberate like the trees above them, and they walk with a swaying, rocking +gait altogether free from quick, jerky fussiness, for chopping and log rolling +have quenched all that. They are also slow of speech, as if partly out of +breath, and when one tries to draw them out on some subject away from logs, all +the fresh, leafy, outreaching branches of the mind seem to have been withered +and killed with fatigue, leaving their lives little more than dry lumber. Many +a tree have these old axemen felled, but, round-shouldered and stooping, they +too are beginning to lean over. Many of their companions are already beneath +the moss, and among those that we see at work some are now dead at the top +(bald), leafless, so to speak, and tottering to their fall. +</p> + +<p> +A very different man, seen now and then at long intervals but usually +invisible, is the free roamer of the wilderness—hunter, prospector, +explorer, seeking he knows not what. Lithe and sinewy, he walks erect, making +his way with the skill of wild animals, all his senses in action, watchful and +alert, looking keenly at everything in sight, his imagination well nourished in +the wealth of the wilderness, coming into contact with free nature in a +thousand forms, drinking at the fountains of things, responsive to wild +influences, as trees to the winds. Well he knows the wild animals his +neighbors, what fishes are in the streams, what birds in the forests, and where +food may be found. Hungry at times and weary, he has corresponding enjoyment in +eating and resting, and all the wilderness is home. Some of these rare, happy +rovers die alone among the leaves. Others half settle down and change in part +into farmers; each, making choice of some fertile spot where the landscape +attracts him, builds a small cabin, where, with few wants to supply from garden +or field, he hunts and farms in turn, going perhaps once a year to the +settlements, until night begins to draw near, and, like forest shadows, +thickens into darkness and his day is done. In these Washington wilds, living +alone, all sorts of men may perchance be found—poets, philosophers, and +even full-blown transcendentalists, though you may go far to find them. +</p> + +<p> +Indians are seldom to be met with away from the Sound, excepting about the few +outlying hop ranches, to which they resort in great numbers during the picking +season. Nor in your walks in the woods will you be likely to see many of the +wild animals, however far you may go, with the exception of the Douglas +squirrel and the mountain goat. The squirrel is everywhere, and the goat you +can hardly fail to find if you climb any of the high mountains. The deer, once +very abundant, may still be found on the islands and along the shores of the +Sound, but the large gray wolves render their existence next to impossible at +any considerable distance back in the woods of the mainland, as they can easily +run them down unless they are near enough to the coast to make their escape by +plunging into the water and swimming to the islands off shore. The elk and +perhaps also the moose still exist in the most remote and inaccessible +solitudes of the forest, but their numbers have been greatly reduced of late, +and even the most experienced hunters have difficulty in finding them. Of bears +there are two species, the black and the large brown, the former by far the +more common of the two. On the shaggy bottom-lands where berries are plentiful, +and along the rivers while salmon are going up to spawn, the black bear may be +found, fat and at home. Many are killed every year, both for their flesh and +skins. The large brown species likes higher and opener ground. He is a +dangerous animal, a near relative of the famous grizzly, and wise hunters are +very fond of letting him alone. +</p> + +<p> +The towns of Puget Sound are of a very lively, progressive, and aspiring kind, +fortunately with abundance of substance about them to warrant their ambition +and make them grow. Like young sapling sequoias, they are sending out their +roots far and near for nourishment, counting confidently on longevity and +grandeur of stature. Seattle and Tacoma are at present far in the lead of all +others in the race for supremacy, and these two are keen, active rivals, to all +appearances well matched. Tacoma occupies near the head of the Sound a site of +great natural beauty. It is the terminus of the Northern Pacific Railroad, and +calls itself the “City of Destiny.” Seattle is also charmingly +located about twenty miles down the Sound from Tacoma, on Elliott Bay. It is +the terminus of the Seattle, Lake Shore, and Eastern Railroad, now in process +of construction, and calls itself the “Queen City of the Sound” and +the “Metropolis of Washington.” What the populations of these towns +number I am not able to say with anything like exactness. They are probably +about the same size and they each claim to have about twenty thousand people; +but their figures are so rapidly changing, and so often mixed up with counts +that refer to the future that exact measurements of either of these places are +about as hard to obtain as measurements of the clouds of a growing storm. Their +edges run back for miles into the woods among the trees and stumps and brush +which hide a good many of the houses and the stakes which mark the lots; so +that, without being as yet very large towns, they seem to fade away into the +distance. +</p> + +<p> +But, though young and loose-jointed, they are fast taking on the forms and +manners of old cities, putting on airs, as some would say, like boys in haste +to be men. They are already towns “with all modern improvements, +first-class in every particular,” as is said of hotels. They have +electric motors and lights, paved broadways and boulevards, substantial +business blocks, schools, churches, factories, and foundries. The lusty, +titanic clang of boiler making may be heard there, and plenty of the languid +music of pianos mingling with the babel noises of commerce carried on in a +hundred tongues. The main streets are crowded with bright, wide-awake lawyers, +ministers, merchants, agents for everything under the sun; ox drivers and +loggers in stiff, gummy overalls; back-slanting dudes, well-tailored and shiny; +and fashions and bonnets of every feather and color bloom gayly in the noisy +throng and advertise London and Paris. Vigorous life and strife are to be seen +everywhere. The spirit of progress is in the air. Still it is hard to realize +how much good work is being done here of a kind that makes for +civilization—the enthusiastic, exulting energy displayed in the building +of new towns, railroads, and mills, in the opening of mines of coal and iron +and the development of natural resources in general. To many, especially in the +Atlantic States, Washington is hardly known at all. It is regarded as being yet +a far wild west—a dim, nebulous expanse of woods—by those who do +not know that railroads and steamers have brought the country out of the +wilderness and abolished the old distances. It is now near to all the world and +is in possession of a share of the best of all that civilization has to offer, +while on some of the lines of advancement it is at the front. +</p> + +<p> +Notwithstanding the sharp rivalry between different sections and towns, the +leading men mostly pull together for the general good and +glory,—building, buying, borrowing, to push the country to its place; +keeping arithmetic busy in counting population present and to come, ships, +towns, factories, tons of coal and iron, feet of lumber, miles of +railroad,—Americans, Scandinavians, Irish, Scotch, and Germans being +joined together in the white heat of work like religious crowds in time of +revival who have forgotten sectarianism. It is a fine thing to see people in +hot earnest about anything; therefore, however extravagant and high the brag +ascending from Puget Sound, in most cases it is likely to appear pardonable and +more. +</p> + +<p> +Seattle was named after an old Indian chief who lived in this part of the +Sound. He was very proud of the honor and lived long enough to lead his +grandchildren about the streets. The greater part of the lower business portion +of the town, including a long stretch of wharves and warehouses built on piles, +was destroyed by fire a few months ago <a href="#linknote-28" +name="linknoteref-28"><sup>[28]</sup></a>, with immense loss. The people, +however, are in no wise discouraged, and ere long the loss will be gain, +inasmuch as a better class of buildings, chiefly of brick, are being erected in +place of the inflammable wooden ones, which, with comparatively few exceptions, +were built of pitchy spruce. +</p> + +<p> +With their own scenery so glorious ever on show, one would at first thought +suppose that these happy Puget Sound people would never go sightseeing from +home like less favored mortals. But they do all the same. Some go boating on +the Sound or on the lakes and rivers, or with their families make excursions at +small cost on the steamers. Others will take the train to the Franklin and +Newcastle or Carbon River coal mines for the sake of the thirty- or forty-mile +rides through the woods, and a look into the black depths of the underworld. +Others again take the steamers for Victoria, Fraser River, or Vancouver, the +new ambitious town at the terminus of the Canadian Railroad, thus getting views +of the outer world in a near foreign country. One of the regular summer resorts +of this region where people go for fishing, hunting, and the healing of +diseases, is the Green River Hot Springs, in the Cascade Mountains, sixty-one +miles east of Tacoma, on the line of the Northern Pacific Railroad. Green River +is a small rocky stream with picturesque banks, and derives its name from the +beautiful pale-green hue of its waters. +</p> + +<p> +Among the most interesting of all the summer rest and pleasure places is the +famous “Hop Ranch” on the upper Snoqualmie River, thirty or forty +miles eastward from Seattle. Here the dense forest opens, allowing fine free +views of the adjacent mountains from a long stretch of ground which is half +meadow, half prairie, level and fertile, and beautifully diversified with +outstanding groves of spruces and alders and rich flowery fringes of spiraea +and wild roses, the river meandering deep and tranquil through the midst of it. +On the portions most easily cleared some three hundred acres of hop vines have +been planted and are now in full bearing, yielding, it is said, at the rate of +about a ton of hops to the acre. They are a beautiful crop, these vines of the +north, pillars of verdure in regular rows, seven feet apart and eight or ten +feet in height; the long, vigorous shoots sweeping round in fine, wild freedom, +and the light, leafy cones hanging in loose, handsome clusters. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps enough of hops might be raised in Washington for the wants of all the +world, but it would be impossible to find pickers to handle the crop. Most of +the picking is done by Indians, and to this fine, clean, profitable work they +come in great numbers in their canoes, old and young, of many different tribes, +bringing wives and children and household goods, in some cases from a distance +of five or six hundred miles, even from far Alaska. Then they too grow rich and +spend their money on red cloth and trinkets. About a thousand Indians are +required as pickers at the Snoqualmie ranch alone, and a lively and merry +picture they make in the field, arrayed in bright, showy calicoes, lowering the +rustling vine pillars with incessant song-singing and fun. Still more striking +are their queer camps on the edges of the fields or over on the river bank, +with the firelight shining on their wild jolly faces. But woe to the ranch +should fire-water get there! +</p> + +<p> +But the chief attractions here are not found in the hops, but in trout-fishing +and bear-hunting, and in the two fine falls on the river. Formerly the trip +from Seattle was a hard one, over corduroy roads; now it is reached in a few +hours by rail along the shores of Lake Washington and Lake Squak, through a +fine sample section of the forest and past the brow of the main Snoqualmie +Fall. From the hotel at the ranch village the road to the fall leads down the +right bank of the river through the magnificent maple woods I have mentioned +elsewhere, and fine views of the fall may be had on that side, both from above +and below. It is situated on the main river, where it plunges over a sheer +precipice, about two hundred and forty feet high, in leaving the level meadows +of the ancient lake basin. In a general way it resembles the well-known Nevada +Fall in Yosemite, having the same twisted appearance at the top and the free +plunge in numberless comet-shaped masses into a deep pool seventy-five or +eighty yards in diameter. The pool is of considerable depth, as is shown by the +radiating well-beaten foam and mist, which is of a beautiful rose color at +times, of exquisite fineness of tone, and by the heavy waves that lash the +rocks in front of it. +</p> + +<p> +Though to a Californian the height of this fall would not seem great, the +volume of water is heavy, and all the surroundings are delightful. The maple +forest, of itself worth a long journey, the beauty of the river-reaches above +and below, and the views down the valley afar over the mighty forests, with all +its lovely trimmings of ferns and flowers, make this one of the most +interesting falls I have ever seen. The upper fall is about seventy-five feet +high, with bouncing rapids at head and foot, set in a romantic dell thatched +with dripping mosses and ferns and embowered in dense evergreens and blooming +bushes, the distance to it from the upper end of the meadows being about eight +miles. The road leads through majestic woods with ferns ten feet high beneath +some of the thickets, and across a gravelly plain deforested by fire many years +ago. Orange lilies are plentiful, and handsome shining mats of the kinnikinic, +sprinkled with bright scarlet berries. +</p> + +<p> +From a place called “Hunt’s,” at the end of the wagon road, a +trail leads through lush, dripping woods (never dry) to Thuja and Mertens, +Menzies, and Douglas spruces. The ground is covered with the best moss-work of +the moist lands of the north, made up mostly of the various species of hypnum, +with some liverworts, marchantia, jungermannia, etc., in broad sheets and +bosses, where never a dust particle floated, and where all the flowers, fresh +with mist and spray, are wetter than water lilies. The pool at the foot of the +fall is a place surpassingly lovely to look at, with the enthusiastic rush and +song of the falls, the majestic trees overhead leaning over the brink like +listeners eager to catch every word of the white refreshing waters, the +delicate maidenhairs and aspleniums with fronds outspread gathering the rainbow +sprays, and the myriads of hooded mosses, every cup fresh and shining. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap20"></a>XX. An Ascent of Mount Rainier</h2> + +<p> +Ambitious climbers, seeking adventures and opportunities to test their strength +and skill, occasionally attempt to penetrate the wilderness on the west side of +the Sound, and push on to the summit of Mount Olympus. But the grandest +excursion of all to be make hereabouts is to Mount Rainier, to climb to the top +of its icy crown. The mountain is very high<a href="#linknote-29" +name="linknoteref-29"><sup>[29]</sup></a>, fourteen thousand four hundred feet, +and laden with glaciers that are terribly roughened and interrupted by +crevasses and ice cliffs. Only good climbers should attempt to gain the summit, +led by a guide of proved nerve and endurance. A good trail has been cut through +the woods to the base of the mountain on the north; but the summit of the +mountain never has been reached from this side, though many brave attempts have +been made upon it. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus09"></a> +<img src="images/img09.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="MOUNT RAINIER FROM THE SODA SPRINGS" /> +<p class="caption">MOUNT RAINIER FROM THE SODA SPRINGS</p> +</div> + +<p> +Last summer I gained the summit from the south side, in a day and a half from +the timberline, without encountering any desperate obstacles that could not in +some way be passed in good weather. I was accompanied by Keith, the artist, +Professor Ingraham, and five ambitious young climbers from Seattle. We were led +by the veteran mountaineer and guide Van Trump, of Yelm, who many years before +guided General Stevens in his memorable ascent, and later Mr. Bailey, of +Oakland. With a cumbersome abundance of campstools and blankets we set out from +Seattle, traveling by rail as far as Yelm Prairie, on the Tacoma and Oregon +road. Here we made our first camp and arranged with Mr. Longmire, a farmer in +the neighborhood, for pack and saddle animals. The noble King Mountain was in +full view from here, glorifying the bright, sunny day with his presence, rising +in godlike majesty over the woods, with the magnificent prairie as a +foreground. The distance to the mountain from Yelm in a straight line is +perhaps fifty miles; but by the mule and yellowjacket trail we had to follow it +is a hundred miles. For, notwithstanding a portion of this trail runs in the +air, where the wasps work hardest, it is far from being an air line as commonly +understood. +</p> + +<p> +By night of the third day we reached the Soda Springs on the right bank of the +Nisqually, which goes roaring by, gray with mud, gravel, and boulders from the +caves of the glaciers of Rainier, now close at hand. The distance from the Soda +Springs to the Camp of the Clouds is about ten miles. The first part of the way +lies up the Nisqually Cañon, the bottom of which is flat in some places and +the walls very high and precipitous, like those of the Yosemite Valley. The +upper part of the cañon is still occupied by one of the Nisqually glaciers, +from which this branch of the river draws its source, issuing from a cave in +the gray, rock-strewn snout. About a mile below the glacier we had to ford the +river, which caused some anxiety, for the current is very rapid and carried +forward large boulders as well as lighter material, while its savage roar is +bewildering. +</p> + +<p> +At this point we left the cañon, climbing out of it by a steep zigzag up the +old lateral moraine of the glacier, which was deposited when the present +glacier flowed past at this height, and is about eight hundred feet high. It is +now covered with a superb growth of <i>Picea amabilis</i><a href="#linknote-30" +name="linknoteref-30"><sup>[30]</sup></a>; so also is the corresponding portion +of the right lateral. From the top of the moraine, still ascending, we passed +for a mile or two through a forest of mixed growth, mainly silver fir, Patton +spruce, and mountain pine, and then came to the charming park region, at an +elevation of about five thousand feet above sea level. Here the vast continuous +woods at length begin to give way under the dominion of climate, though still +at this height retaining their beauty and giving no sign of stress of storm, +sweeping upward in belts of varying width, composed mainly of one species of +fir, sharp and spiry in form, leaving smooth, spacious parks, with here and +there separate groups of trees standing out in the midst of the openings like +islands in a lake. Every one of these parks, great and small, is a garden +filled knee-deep with fresh, lovely flowers of every hue, the most luxuriant +and the most extravagantly beautiful of all the alpine gardens I ever beheld in +all my mountain-top wanderings. +</p> + +<p> +We arrived at the Cloud Camp at noon, but no clouds were in sight, save a few +gauzy ornamental wreaths adrift in the sunshine. Out of the forest at last +there stood the mountain, wholly unveiled, awful in bulk and majesty, filling +all the view like a separate, new-born world, yet withal so fine and so +beautiful it might well fire the dullest observer to desperate enthusiasm. Long +we gazed in silent admiration, buried in tall daisies and anemones by the side +of a snowbank. Higher we could not go with the animals and find food for them +and wood for our own campfires, for just beyond this lies the region of ice, +with only here and there an open spot on the ridges in the midst of the ice, +with dwarf alpine plants, such as saxifrages and drabas, which reach far up +between the glaciers, and low mats of the beautiful bryanthus, while back of us +were the gardens and abundance of everything that heart could wish. Here we lay +all the afternoon, considering the lilies and the lines of the mountains with +reference to a way to the summit. +</p> + +<p> +At noon next day we left camp and began our long climb. We were in light +marching order, save one who pluckily determined to carry his camera to the +summit. At night, after a long easy climb over wide and smooth fields of ice, +we reached a narrow ridge, at an elevation of about ten thousand feet above the +sea, on the divide between the glaciers of the Nisqually and the Cowlitz. Here +we lay as best we could, waiting for another day, without fire of course, as we +were now many miles beyond the timberline and without much to cover us. After +eating a little hardtack, each of us leveled a spot to lie on among lava-blocks +and cinders. The night was cold, and the wind coming down upon us in stormy +surges drove gritty ashes and fragments of pumice about our ears while chilling +to the bone. Very short and shallow was our sleep that night; but day dawned at +last, early rising was easy, and there was nothing about breakfast to cause any +delay. About four o’clock we were off, and climbing began in earnest. We +followed up the ridge on which we had spent the night, now along its crest, now +on either side, or on the ice leaning against it, until we came to where it +becomes massive and precipitous. Then we were compelled to crawl along a seam +or narrow shelf, on its face, which we traced to its termination in the base of +the great ice cap. From this point all the climbing was over ice, which was +here desperately steep but fortunately was at the same time carved into +innumerable spikes and pillars which afforded good footholds, and we crawled +cautiously on, warm with ambition and exercise. +</p> + +<p> +At length, after gaining the upper extreme of our guiding ridge, we found a +good place to rest and prepare ourselves to scale the dangerous upper curves of +the dome. The surface almost everywhere was bare, hard, snowless ice, extremely +slippery; and, though smooth in general, it was interrupted by a network of +yawning crevasses, outspread like lines of defense against any attempt to win +the summit. Here every one of the party took off his shoes and drove stout +steel caulks about half an inch long into them, having brought tools along for +the purpose, and not having made use of them until now so that the points might +not get dulled on the rocks ere the smooth, dangerous ice was reached. Besides +being well shod each carried an alpenstock, and for special difficulties we had +a hundred feet of rope and an axe. +</p> + +<p> +Thus prepared, we stepped forth afresh, slowly groping our way through tangled +lines of crevasses, crossing on snow bridges here and there after cautiously +testing them, jumping at narrow places, or crawling around the ends of the +largest, bracing well at every point with our alpenstocks and setting our +spiked shoes squarely down on the dangerous slopes. It was nerve-trying work, +most of it, but we made good speed nevertheless, and by noon all stood together +on the utmost summit, save one who, his strength failing for a time, came up +later. +</p> + +<p> +We remained on the summit nearly two hours, looking about us at the vast +maplike views, comprehending hundreds of miles of the Cascade Range, with their +black interminable forests and white volcanic cones in glorious array reaching +far into Oregon; the Sound region also, and the great plains of eastern +Washington, hazy and vague in the distance. Clouds began to gather. Soon of all +the land only the summits of the mountains, St. Helen’s, Adams, and Hood, +were left in sight, forming islands in the sky. We found two well-formed and +well-preserved craters on the summit, lying close together like two plates on a +table with their rims touching. The highest point of the mountain is located +between the craters, where their edges come in contact. Sulphurous fumes and +steam issue from several vents, giving out a sickening smell that can be +detected at a considerable distance. The unwasted condition of these craters, +and, indeed, to a great extent, of the entire mountain, would tend to show that +Rainier is still a comparatively young mountain. With the exception of the +projecting lips of the craters and the top of a subordinate summit a short +distance to the northward, the mountains is solidly capped with ice all around; +and it is this ice cap which forms the grand central fountain whence all the +twenty glaciers of Rainier flow, radiating in every direction. +</p> + +<p> +The descent was accomplished without disaster, though several of the party had +narrow escapes. One slipped and fell, and as he shot past me seemed to be going +to certain death. So steep was the ice slope no one could move to help him, but +fortunately, keeping his presence of mind, he threw himself on his face and +digging his alpenstock into the ice, gradually retarded his motion until he +came to rest. Another broke through a slim bridge over a crevasse, but his +momentum at the time carried him against the lower edge and only his alpenstock +was lost in the abyss. Thus crippled by the loss of his staff, we had to lower +him the rest of the way down the dome by means of the rope we carried. Falling +rocks from the upper precipitous part of the ridge were also a source of +danger, as they came whizzing past in successive volleys; but none told on us, +and when we at length gained the gentle slopes of the lower ice fields, we ran +and slid at our ease, making fast, glad time, all care and danger past, and +arrived at our beloved Cloud Camp before sundown. +</p> + +<p> +We were rather weak from want of nourishment, and some suffered from sunburn, +notwithstanding the partial protection of glasses and veils; otherwise, all +were unscathed and well. The view we enjoyed from the summit could hardly be +surpassed in sublimity and grandeur; but one feels far from home so high in the +sky, so much so that one is inclined to guess that, apart from the acquisition +of knowledge and the exhilaration of climbing, more pleasure is to be found at +the foot of the mountains than on their tops. Doubly happy, however, is the man +to whom lofty mountain tops are within reach, for the lights that shine there +illumine all that lies below. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap21"></a>XXI. The Physical and Climatic Characteristics of Oregon</h2> + +<p> +Oregon is a large, rich, compact section of the west side of the continent, +containing nearly a hundred thousand square miles of deep, wet evergreen woods, +fertile valleys, icy mountains, and high, rolling wind-swept plains, watered by +the majestic Columbia River and its countless branches. It is bounded on the +north by Washington, on the east by Idaho, on the south by California and +Nevada, and on the west by the Pacific Ocean. It is a grand, hearty, wholesome, +foodful wilderness and, like Washington, once a part of the Oregon Territory, +abounds in bold, far-reaching contrasts as to scenery, climate, soil, and +productions. Side by side there is drouth on a grand scale and overflowing +moisture; flinty, sharply cut lava beds, gloomy and forbidding, and smooth, +flowery lawns; cool bogs, exquisitely plushy and soft, overshadowed by jagged +crags barren as icebergs; forests seemingly boundless and plains with no tree +in sight; presenting a wide range of conditions, but as a whole favorable to +industry. Natural wealth of an available kind abounds nearly everywhere, +inviting the farmer, the stock-raiser, the lumberman, the fisherman, the +manufacturer, and the miner, as well as the free walker in search of knowledge +and wildness. The scenery is mostly of a comfortable, assuring kind, grand and +inspiring without too much of that dreadful overpowering sublimity and +exuberance which tend to discourage effort and cast people into inaction and +superstition. +</p> + +<p> +Ever since Oregon was first heard of in the romantic, adventurous, hunting, +trapping Wild West days, it seems to have been regarded as the most attractive +and promising of all the Pacific countries for farmers. While yet the whole +region as well as the way to it was wild, ere a single road or bridge was +built, undaunted by the trackless thousand-mile distances and scalping, +cattle-stealing Indians, long trains of covered wagons began to crawl wearily +westward, crossing how many plains, rivers, ridges, and mountains, fighting the +painted savages and weariness and famine. Setting out from the frontier of the +old West in the spring as soon as the grass would support their cattle, they +pushed on up the Platte, making haste slowly, however, that they might not be +caught in the storms of winter ere they reached the promised land. They crossed +the Rocky Mountains to Fort Hall; thence followed down the Snake River for +three or four hundred miles, their cattle limping and failing on the rough lava +plains; swimming the streams too deep to be forded, making boats out of +wagon-boxes for the women and children and goods, or where trees could be had, +lashing together logs for rafts. Thence, crossing the Blue Mountains and the +plains of the Columbia, they followed the river to the Dalles. Here winter +would be upon them, and before a wagon road was built across the Cascade +Mountains the toil-worn emigrants would be compelled to leave their cattle and +wagons until the following summer, and, in the mean time, with the assistance +of the Hudson’s Bay Company, make their way to the Willamette Valley on +the river with rafts and boats. +</p> + +<p> +How strange and remote these trying times have already become! They are now dim +as if a thousand years had passed over them. Steamships and locomotives with +magical influence have well-nigh abolished the old distances and dangers, and +brought forward the New West into near and familiar companionship with the rest +of the world. +</p> + +<p> +Purely wild for unnumbered centuries, a paradise of oily, salmon-fed Indians, +Oregon is now roughly settled in part and surveyed, its rivers and mountain +ranges, lakes, valleys, and plains have been traced and mapped in a general +way, civilization is beginning to take root, towns are springing up and +flourishing vigorously like a crop adapted to the soil, and the whole kindly +wilderness lies invitingly near with all its wealth open and ripe for use. +</p> + +<p> +In sailing along the Oregon coast one sees but few more signs of human +occupation than did Juan de Fuca three centuries ago. The shore bluffs rise +abruptly from the waves, forming a wall apparently unbroken, though many short +rivers from the coast range of mountains and two from the interior have made +narrow openings on their way to the sea. At the mouths of these rivers good +harbors have been discovered for coasting vessels, which are of great +importance to the lumbermen, dairymen, and farmers of the coast region. But +little or nothing of these appear in general views, only a simple gray wall +nearly straight, green along the top, and the forest stretching back into the +mountains as far as the eye can reach. +</p> + +<p> +Going ashore, we find few long reaches of sand where one may saunter, or +meadows, save the brown and purple meadows of the sea, overgrown with slippery +kelp, swashed and swirled in the restless breakers. The abruptness of the shore +allows the massive waves that have come from far over the broad Pacific to get +close to the bluffs ere they break, and the thundering shock shakes the rocks +to their foundations. No calm comes to these shores. Even in the finest +weather, when the ships off shore are becalmed and their sails hang loose +against the mast, there is always a wreath of foam at the base of these bluffs. +The breakers are ever in bloom and crystal brine is ever in the air. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus10"></a> +<img src="images/img10.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="THE OREGON SEA-BLUFFS" /> +<p class="caption">THE OREGON SEA-BLUFFS</p> +</div> + +<p> +A scramble along the Oregon sea bluffs proves as richly exciting to lovers of +wild beauty as heart could wish. Here are three hundred miles of pictures of +rock and water in black and white, or gray and white, with more or less of +green and yellow, purple and blue. The rocks, glistening in sunshine and foam, +are never wholly dry—many of them marvels of wave-sculpture and most +imposing in bulk and bearing, standing boldly forward, monuments of a thousand +storms, types of permanence, holding the homes and places of refuge of +multitudes of seafaring animals in their keeping, yet ever wasting away. How +grand the songs of the waves about them, every wave a fine, hearty storm in +itself, taking its rise on the breezy plains of the sea, perhaps thousands of +miles away, traveling with majestic, slow-heaving deliberation, reaching the +end of its journey, striking its blow, bursting into a mass of white and pink +bloom, then falling spent and withered to give place to the next in the endless +procession, thus keeping up the glorious show and glorious song through all +times and seasons forever! +</p> + +<p> +Terribly impressive as is this cliff and wave scenery when the skies are bright +and kindly sunshine makes rainbows in the spray, it is doubly so in dark, +stormy nights, when, crouching in some hollow on the top of some jutting +headland, we may gaze and listen undisturbed in the heart of it. Perhaps now +and then we may dimly see the tops of the highest breakers, looking ghostly in +the gloom; but when the water happens to be phosphorescent, as it oftentimes +is, then both the sea and the rocks are visible, and the wild, exulting, +up-dashing spray burns, every particle of it, and is combined into one glowing +mass of white fire; while back in the woods and along the bluffs and crags of +the shore the storm wind roars, and the rain-floods, gathering strength and +coming from far and near, rush wildly down every gulch to the sea, as if eager +to join the waves in their grand, savage harmony; deep calling unto deep in the +heart of the great, dark night, making a sight and a song unspeakably sublime +and glorious. +</p> + +<p> +In the pleasant weather of summer, after the rainy season is past and only +occasional refreshing showers fall, washing the sky and bringing out the +fragrance of the flowers and the evergreens, then one may enjoy a fine, free +walk all the way across the State from the sea to the eastern boundary on the +Snake River. Many a beautiful stream we should cross in such a walk, singing +through forest and meadow and deep rocky gorge, and many a broad prairie and +plain, mountain and valley, wild garden and desert, presenting landscape beauty +on a grand scale and in a thousand forms, and new lessons without number, +delightful to learn. Oregon has three mountain ranges which run nearly parallel +with the coast, the most influential of which, in every way, is the Cascade +Range. It is about six thousand to seven thousand feet in average height, and +divides the State into two main sections called Eastern and Western Oregon, +corresponding with the main divisions of Washington; while these are again +divided, but less perfectly, by the Blue Mountains and the Coast Range. The +eastern section is about two hundred and thirty miles wide, and is made up in +great part of the treeless plains of the Columbia, which are green and flowery +in spring, but gray, dusty, hot, and forbidding in summer. Considerable areas, +however, on these plains, as well as some of the valleys countersunk below the +general surface along the banks of the streams, have proved fertile and produce +large crops of wheat, barley, hay, and other products. +</p> + +<p> +In general views the western section seems to be covered with one vast, evenly +planted forest, with the exception of the few snow-clad peaks of the Cascade +Range, these peaks being the only points in the landscape that rise above the +timberline. Nevertheless, embosomed in this forest and lying in the great +trough between the Cascades and coast mountains, there are some of the best +bread-bearing valleys to be found in the world. The largest of these are the +Willamette, Umpqua, and Rogue River Valleys. Inasmuch as a considerable portion +of these main valleys was treeless, or nearly so, as well as surpassingly +fertile, they were the first to attract settlers; and the Willamette, being at +once the largest and nearest to tide water, was settled first of all, and now +contains the greater portion of the population and wealth of the State. +</p> + +<p> +The climate of this section, like the corresponding portion of Washington, is +rather damp and sloppy throughout the winter months, but the summers are +bright, ripening the wheat and allowing it to be garnered in good condition. +Taken as a whole, the weather is bland and kindly, and like the forest trees +the crops and cattle grow plump and sound in it. So also do the people; +children ripen well and grow up with limbs of good size and fiber and, unless +overworked in the woods, live to a good old age, hale and hearty. +</p> + +<p> +But, like every other happy valley in the world, the sunshine of this one is +not without its shadows. Malarial fevers are not unknown in some places, and +untimely frosts and rains may at long intervals in some measure disappoint the +hopes of the husbandman. Many a tale, good-natured or otherwise, is told +concerning the overflowing abundance of the Oregon rains. Once an English +traveler, as the story goes, went to a store to make some purchases and on +leaving found that rain was falling; therefore, not liking to get wet, he +stepped back to wait till the shower was over. Seeing no signs of clearing, he +soon became impatient and inquired of the storekeeper how long he thought the +shower would be likely to last. Going to the door and looking wisely into the +gray sky and noting the direction of the wind, the latter replied that he +thought the shower would probably last about six months, an opinion that of +course disgusted the fault-finding Briton with the “blawsted +country,” though in fact it is but little if at all wetter or cloudier +than his own. +</p> + +<p> +No climate seems the best for everybody. Many there be who waste their lives in +a vain search for weather with which no fault may be found, keeping themselves +and their families in constant motion, like floating seaweeds that never strike +root, yielding compliance to every current of news concerning countries yet +untried, believing that everywhere, anywhere, the sky is fairer and the grass +grows greener than where they happen to be. Before the Oregon and California +railroad was built, the overland journey between these States across the +Siskiyou Mountains in the old-fashioned emigrant wagon was a long and tedious +one. Nevertheless, every season dissatisfied climate-seekers, too wet and too +dry, might be seen plodding along through the dust in the old +“49style,” making their way one half of them from California to +Oregon, the other half from Oregon to California. The beautiful Sisson meadows +at the base of Mount Shasta were a favorite halfway resting place, where the +weary cattle were turned out for a few days to gather strength for better +climates, and it was curious to hear those perpetual pioneers comparing notes +and seeking information around the campfires. +</p> + +<p> +“Where are you from?” some Oregonian would ask. +</p> + +<p> +“The Joaquin.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s dry there, ain’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I should say so. No rain at all in summer and none to speak of in +winter, and I’m dried out. I just told my wife I was on the move again, +and I’m going to keep moving till I come to a country where it rains once +in a while, like it does in every reg’lar white man’s country; and +that, I guess, will be Oregon, if the news be true.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, neighbor, you’s heading in the right direction for +rain,” the Oregonian would say. “Keep right on to Yamhill and +you’ll soon be damp enough. It rains there more than twelve months in the +year; at least, no saying but it will. I’ve just come from there, plumb +drownded out, and I told my wife to jump into the wagon and we should start out +and see if we couldn’t find a dry day somewhere. Last fall the hay was +out and the wood was out, and the cabin leaked, and I made up my mind to try +California the first chance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if you be a horned toad or coyote,” the seeker of moisture +would reply, “then maybe you can stand it. Just keep right on by the +Alabama Settlement to Tulare and you can have my place on Big Dry Creek and +welcome. You’ll be drowned there mighty seldom. The wagon spokes and +tires will rattle and tell you when you come to it.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right, partner, we’ll swap square, you can have mine in +Yamhill and the rain thrown in. Last August a painter sharp came along one day +wanting to know the way to Willamette Falls, and I told him: ‘Young man, +just wait a little and you’ll find falls enough without going to Oregon +City after them. The whole dog-gone Noah’s flood of a country will be a +fall and melt and float away some day.’” And more to the same +effect. +</p> + +<p> +But no one need leave Oregon in search of fair weather. The wheat and cattle +region of eastern Oregon and Washington on the upper Columbia plains is dry +enough and dusty enough more than half the year. The truth is, most of these +wanderers enjoy the freedom of gypsy life and seek not homes but camps. Having +crossed the plains and reached the ocean, they can find no farther west within +reach of wagons, and are therefore compelled now to go north and south between +Mexico and Alaska, always glad to find an excuse for moving, stopping a few +months or weeks here and there, the time being measured by the size of the +camp-meadow, conditions of the grass, game, and other indications. Even their +so-called settlements of a year or two, when they take up land and build +cabins, are only another kind of camp, in no common sense homes. Never a tree +is planted, nor do they plant themselves, but like good soldiers in time of war +are ever ready to march. Their journey of life is indeed a journey with very +matter-of-fact thorns in the way, though not wholly wanting in compensation. +</p> + +<p> +One of the most influential of the motives that brought the early settlers to +these shores, apart from that natural instinct to scatter and multiply which +urges even sober salmon to climb the Rocky Mountains, was their desire to find +a country at once fertile and winterless, where their flocks and herds could +find pasture all the year, thus doing away with the long and tiresome period of +haying and feeding necessary in the eastern and old western States and +Territories. Cheap land and good land there was in abundance in Kansas, +Nebraska, Minnesota, and Iowa; but there the labor of providing for animals of +the farm was very great, and much of that labor was crowded together into a few +summer months, while to keep cool in summers and warm in the icy winters was +well-nigh impossible to poor farmers. +</p> + +<p> +Along the coast and throughout the greater part of western Oregon in general, +snow seldom falls on the lowlands to a greater depth than a few inches, and +never lies long. Grass is green all winter. The average temperature for the +year in the Willamette Valley is about 52 degrees, the highest and lowest being +about 100 degrees and 20 degrees, though occasionally a much lower temperature +is reached. +</p> + +<p> +The average rainfall is about fifty or fifty-five inches in the Willamette +Valley, and along the coast seventy-five inches, or even more at some +points—figures that bring many a dreary night and day to mind, however +fine the effect on the great evergreen woods and the fields of the farmers. The +rainy season begins in September or October and lasts until April or May. Then +the whole country is solemnly soaked and poulticed with the gray, streaming +clouds and fogs, night and day, with marvelous constancy. Towards the beginning +and end of the season a good many bright days occur to break the pouring gloom, +but whole months of rain, continuous, or nearly so, are not at all rare. +Astronomers beneath these Oregon skies would have a dull time of it. Of all the +year only about one fourth of the days are clear, while three fourths have more +or less of fogs, clouds, or rain. +</p> + +<p> +The fogs occur mostly in the fall and spring. They are grand, far-reaching +affairs of two kinds, the black and the white, some of the latter being very +beautiful, and the infinite delicacy and tenderness of their touch as they +linger to caress the tall evergreens is most exquisite. On farms and highways +and in the streets of towns, where work has to be done, there is nothing +picturesque or attractive in any obvious way about the gray, serious-faced +rainstorms. Mud abounds. The rain seems dismal and heedless and gets in +everybody’s way. Every face is turned from it, and it has but few friends +who recognize its boundless beneficence. But back in the untrodden woods where +no axe has been lifted, where a deep, rich carpet of brown and golden mosses +covers all the ground like a garment, pressing warmly about the feet of the +trees and rising in thick folds softly and kindly over every fallen trunk, +leaving no spot naked or uncared-for, there the rain is welcomed, and every +drop that falls finds a place and use as sweet and pure as itself. An excursion +into the woods when the rain harvest is at its height is a noble pleasure, and +may be safely enjoyed at small expense, though very few care to seek it. +Shelter is easily found beneath the great trees in some hollow out of the wind, +and one need carry but little provision, none at all of a kind that a wetting +would spoil. The colors of the woods are then at their best, and the mighty +hosts of the forest, every needle tingling in the blast, wave and sing in +glorious harmony. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“’T were worth ten years of peaceful life, one glance at this +array.” +</p> + +<p> +The snow that falls in the lowland woods is usually soft, and makes a fine show +coming through the trees in large, feathery tufts, loading the branches of the +firs and spruces and cedars and weighing them down against the trunks until +they look slender and sharp as arrows, while a strange, muffled silence +prevails, giving a peculiar solemnity to everything. But these lowland +snowstorms and their effects quickly vanish; every crystal melts in a day or +two, the bent branches rise again, and the rain resumes its sway. +</p> + +<p> +While these gracious rains are searching the roots of the lowlands, +corresponding snows are busy along the heights of the Cascade Mountains. Month +after month, day and night the heavens shed their icy bloom in stormy, +measureless abundance, filling the grand upper fountains of the rivers to last +through the summer. Awful then is the silence that presses down over the +mountain forests. All the smaller streams vanish from sight, hushed and +obliterated. Young groves of spruce and pine are bowed down as by a gentle hand +and put to rest, not again to see the light or move leaf or limb until the +grand awakening of the springtime, while the larger animals and most of the +birds seek food and shelter in the foothills on the borders of the valleys and +plains. +</p> + +<p> +The lofty volcanic peaks are yet more heavily snow-laden. To their upper zones +no summer comes. They are white always. From the steep slopes of the summit the +new-fallen snow, while yet dry and loose, descends in magnificent avalanches to +feed the glaciers, making meanwhile the most glorious manifestations of power. +Happy is the man who may get near them to see and hear. In some sheltered camp +nest on the edge of the timberline one may lie snug and warm, but after the +long shuffle on snowshoes we may have to wait more than a month ere the heavens +open and the grand show is unveiled. In the mean time, bread may be scarce, +unless with careful forecast a sufficient supply has been provided and securely +placed during the summer. Nevertheless, to be thus deeply snowbound high in the +sky is not without generous compensation for all the cost. And when we at +length go down the long white slopes to the levels of civilization, the pains +vanish like snow in sunshine, while the noble and exalting pleasures we have +gained remain with us to enrich our lives forever. +</p> + +<p> +The fate of the high-flying mountain snow-flowers is a fascinating study, +though little may we see of their works and ways while their storms go on. The +glinting, swirling swarms fairly thicken the blast, and all the air, as well as +the rocks and trees, is as one smothering mass of bloom, through the midst of +which at close intervals come the low, intense thunder-tones of the avalanches +as they speed on their way to fill the vast fountain hollows. Here they seem at +last to have found rest. But this rest is only apparent. Gradually the loose +crystals by the pressure of their own weight are welded together into clear +ice, and, as glaciers, march steadily, silently on, with invisible motion, in +broad, deep currents, grinding their way with irresistible energy to the warmer +lowlands, where they vanish in glad, rejoicing streams. +</p> + +<p> +In the sober weather of Oregon lightning makes but little show. Those +magnificent thunderstorms that so frequently adorn and glorify the sky of the +Mississippi Valley are wanting here. Dull thunder and lightning may +occasionally be seen and heard, but the imposing grandeur of great storms +marching over the landscape with streaming banners and a network of fire is +almost wholly unknown. +</p> + +<p> +Crossing the Cascade Range, we pass from a green to a gray country, from a +wilderness of trees to a wilderness of open plains, level or rolling or rising +here and there into hills and short mountain spurs. Though well supplied with +rivers in most of its main sections, it is generally dry. The annual rainfall +is only from about five to fifteen inches, and the thin winter garment of snow +seldom lasts more than a month or two, though the temperature in many places +falls from five to twenty-five degrees below zero for a short time. That the +snow is light over eastern Oregon, and the average temperature not intolerably +severe, is shown by the fact that large droves of sheep, cattle, and horses +live there through the winter without other food or shelter than they find for +themselves on the open plains or down in the sunken valleys and gorges along +the streams. +</p> + +<p> +When we read of the mountain ranges of Oregon and Washington with detailed +descriptions of their old volcanoes towering snow-laden and glacier-laden above +the clouds, one may be led to imagine that the country is far icier and whiter +and more mountainous than it is. Only in winter are the Coast and Cascade +Mountains covered with snow. Then as seen from the main interior valleys they +appear as comparatively low, bossy walls stretching along the horizon and +making a magnificent display of their white wealth. The Coast Range in Oregon +does not perhaps average more than three thousand feet in height. Its snow does +not last long, most of its soil is fertile all the way to the summits, and the +greater part of the range may at some time be brought under cultivation. The +immense deposits on the great central uplift of the Cascade Range are mostly +melted off before the middle of summer by the comparatively warm winds and +rains from the coast, leaving only a few white spots on the highest ridges, +where the depth from drifting has been greatest, or where the rate of waste has +been diminished by specially favorable conditions as to exposure. Only the +great volcanic cones are truly snow-clad all the year, and these are not +numerous and make but a small portion of the general landscape. +</p> + +<p> +As we approach Oregon from the coast in summer, no hint of snowy mountains can +be seen, and it is only after we have sailed into the country by the Columbia, +or climbed some one of the commanding summits, that the great white peaks send +us greeting and make telling advertisements of themselves and of the country +over which they rule. So, also, in coming to Oregon from the east the country +by no means impresses one as being surpassingly mountainous, the abode of peaks +and glaciers. Descending the spurs of the Rocky Mountains into the basin of the +Columbia, we see hot, hundred-mile plains, roughened here the there by hills +and ridges that look hazy and blue in the distance, until we have pushed well +to the westward. Then one white point after another comes into sight to refresh +the eye and the imagination; but they are yet a long way off, and have much to +say only to those who know them or others of their kind. How grand they are, +though insignificant-looking on the edge of the vast landscape! What noble +woods they nourish, and emerald meadows and gardens! What springs and streams +and waterfalls sing about them and to what a multitude of happy creatures they +give homes and food! +</p> + +<p> +The principal mountains of the range are Mounts Pitt, Scott, and Thielson, +Diamond Peak, the Three Sisters, Mounts Jefferson, Hood, St. Helen’s, +Adams, Rainier, Aix, and Baker. Of these the seven first named belong to +Oregon, the others to Washington. They rise singly at irregular distances from +one another along the main axis of the range or near it, with an elevation of +from about eight thousand to fourteen thousand four hundred feet above the +level of the sea. From few points in the valleys may more than three or four of +them be seen, and of the more distant ones of these only the tops appear. +Therefore, speaking generally, each of the lowland landscapes of the State +contains only one grand snowy mountain. +</p> + +<p> +The heights back of Portland command one of the best general views of the +forests and also of the most famous of the great mountains both of Oregon and +Washington. Mount Hood is in full view, with the summits of Mounts Jefferson, +St. Helen’s, Adams, and Rainier in the distance. The city of Portland is +at our feet, covering a large area along both banks of the Willamette, and, +with its fine streets, schools, churches, mills, shipping, parks, and gardens, +makes a telling picture of busy, aspiring civilization in the midst of the +green wilderness in which it is planted. The river is displayed to fine +advantage in the foreground of our main view, sweeping in beautiful curves +around rich, leafy islands, its banks fringed with willows. +</p> + +<p> +A few miles beyond the Willamette flows the renowned Columbia, and the +confluence of these two great rivers is at a point only about ten miles below +the city. Beyond the Columbia extends the immense breadth of the forest, one +dim, black, monotonous field with only the sky, which one is glad to see is not +forested, and the tops of the majestic old volcanoes to give diversity to the +view. That sharp, white, broad-based pyramid on the south side of the Columbia, +a few degrees to the south of east from where you stand, is the famous Mount +Hood. The distance to it in a straight line is about fifty miles. Its upper +slopes form the only bare ground, bare as to forests, in the landscape in that +direction. It is the pride of Oregonians, and when it is visible is always +pointed out to strangers as the glory of the country, the mountain of +mountains. It is one of the grand series of extinct volcanoes extending from +Lassen’s Butte <a href="#linknote-31" +name="linknoteref-31"><sup>[31]</sup></a> to Mount Baker, a distance of about +six hundred miles, which once flamed like gigantic watch-fires along the coast. +Some of them have been active in recent times, but no considerable addition to +the bulk of Mount Hood has been made for several centuries, as is shown by the +amount of glacial denudation it has suffered. Its summit has been ground to a +point, which gives it a rather thin, pinched appearance. It has a wide-flowing +base, however, and is fairly well proportioned. Though it is eleven thousand +feet high, it is too far off to make much show under ordinary conditions in so +extensive a landscape. Through a great part of the summer it is invisible on +account of smoke poured into the sky from burning woods, logging camps, mills, +etc., and in winter for weeks at a time, or even months, it is in the clouds. +Only in spring and early summer and in what there may chance to be of bright +weather in winter is it or any of its companions at all clear or telling. From +the Cascades on the Columbia it may be seen at a distance of twenty miles or +thereabouts, or from other points up and down the river, and with the +magnificent foreground it is very impressive. It gives the supreme touch of +grandeur to all the main Columbia views, rising at every turn, solitary, +majestic, awe-inspiring, the ruling spirit of the landscape. But, like +mountains everywhere, it varies greatly in impressiveness and apparent height +at different times and seasons, not alone from differences as to the dimness or +transparency of the air. Clear, or arrayed in clouds, it changes both in size +and general expression. Now it looms up to an immense height and seems to draw +near in tremendous grandeur and beauty, holding the eyes of every beholder in +devout and awful interest. Next year or next day, or even in the same day, you +return to the same point of view, perhaps to find that the glory has departed, +as if the mountain had died and the poor dull, shrunken mass of rocks and ice +had lost all power to charm. +</p> + +<p> +Never shall I forget my first glorious view of Mount Hood one calm evening in +July, though I had seen it many times before this. I was then sauntering with a +friend across the new Willamette bridge between Portland and East Portland for +the sake of the river views, which are here very fine in the tranquil summer +weather. The scene on the water was a lively one. Boats of every description +were gliding, glinting, drifting about at work or play, and we leaned over the +rail from time to time, contemplating the gay throng. Several lines of ferry +boats were making regular trips at intervals of a few minutes, and river +steamers were coming and going from the wharves, laden with all sorts of +merchandise, raising long diverging swells that make all the light pleasure +craft bow and nod in hearty salutation as they passed. The crowd was being +constantly increased by new arrivals from both shores, sailboats, rowboats, +racing shells, rafts, were loaded with gayly dressed people, and here and there +some adventurous man or boy might be seen as a merry sailor on a single plank +or spar, apparently as deep in enjoyment as were any on the water. It seemed as +if all the town were coming to the river, renouncing the cares and toils of the +day, determined to take the evening breeze into their pulses, and be cool and +tranquil ere going to bed. +</p> + +<p> +Absorbed in the happy scene, given up to dreamy, random observation of what lay +immediately before me, I was not conscious of anything occurring on the outer +rim of the landscape. Forest, mountain, and sky were forgotten, when my +companion suddenly directed my attention to the eastward, shouting, “Oh, +look! look!” in so loud and excited a tone of voice that passers-by, +saunterers like ourselves, were startled and looked over the bridge as if +expecting to see some boat upset. Looking across the forest, over which the +mellow light of the sunset was streaming, I soon discovered the source of my +friend’s excitement. There stood Mount Hood in all the glory of the +alpenglow, looming immensely high, beaming with intelligence, and so impressive +that one was overawed as if suddenly brought before some superior being newly +arrived from the sky. +</p> + +<p> +The atmosphere was somewhat hazy, but the mountain seemed neither near nor far. +Its glaciers flashed in the divine light. The rugged, storm-worn ridges between +them and the snowfields of the summit, these perhaps might have been traced as +far as they were in sight, and the blending zones of color about the base. But +so profound was the general impression, partial analysis did not come into +play. The whole mountain appeared as one glorious manifestation of divine +power, enthusiastic and benevolent, glowing like a countenance with ineffable +repose and beauty, before which we could only gaze in devout and lowly +admiration. +</p> + +<p> +The far-famed Oregon forests cover all the western section of the State, the +mountains as well as the lowlands, with the exception of a few gravelly spots +and open spaces in the central portions of the great cultivated valleys. +Beginning on the coast, where their outer ranks are drenched and buffeted by +wind-driven scud from the sea, they press on in close, majestic ranks over the +coast mountains, across the broad central valleys, and over the Cascade Range, +broken and halted only by the few great peaks that rise like islands above the +sea of evergreens. +</p> + +<p> +In descending the eastern slopes of the Cascades the rich, abounding, +triumphant exuberance of the trees is quickly subdued; they become smaller, +grow wide apart, leaving dry spaces without moss covering or underbrush, and +before the foot of the range is reached, fail altogether, stayed by the drouth +of the interior almost as suddenly as on the western margin they are stayed by +the sea. Here and there at wide intervals on the eastern plains patches of a +small pine (<i>Pinus contorta</i>) are found, and a scattering growth of +juniper, used by the settlers mostly for fence posts and firewood. Along the +stream bottoms there is usually more or less of cottonwood and willow, which, +though yielding inferior timber, is yet highly prized in this bare region. On +the Blue Mountains there is pine, spruce, fir, and larch in abundance for every +use, but beyond this range there is nothing that may be called a forest in the +Columbia River basin, until we reach the spurs of the Rocky Mountains; and +these Rocky Mountain forests are made up of trees which, compared with the +giants of the Pacific Slope, are mere saplings. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap22"></a>XXII. The Forests of Oregon and their Inhabitants</h2> + +<p> +Like the forests of Washington, already described, those of Oregon are in great +part made up of the Douglas spruce<a href="#linknote-32" +name="linknoteref-32"><sup>[32]</sup></a>, or Oregon pine (<i>Abies +Douglasii</i>). A large number of mills are at work upon this species, +especially along the Columbia, but these as yet have made but little impression +upon its dense masses, the mills here being small as compared with those of the +Puget Sound region. The white cedar, or Port Orford cedar (<i>Cupressus +Lawsoniana</i>, or <i>Chamæcyparis Lawsoniana</i>), is one of the most +beautiful of the evergreens, and produces excellent lumber, considerable +quantities of which are shipped to the San Francisco market. It is found mostly +about Coos Bay, along the Coquille River, and on the northern slopes of the +Siskiyou Mountains, and extends down the coast into California. The silver +firs, the spruces, and the colossal arbor-vitæ, or white cedar<a +href="#linknote-33" name="linknoteref-33"><sup>[33]</sup></a>(<i>Thuja +gigantea</i>), described in the chapter on Washington, are also found here in +great beauty and perfection, the largest of these (<i>Picea grandis</i>, Loud.; +<i>Abies grandis</i>, Lindl.) being confined mostly to the coast region, where +it attains a height of three hundred feet, and a diameter of ten or twelve +feet. Five or six species of pines are found in the State, the most important +of which, both as to lumber and as to the part they play in the general wealth +and beauty of the forests, are the yellow and sugar pines (<i>Pinus +ponderosa</i> and <i>P. Lambertiana</i>). The yellow pine is most abundant on +the eastern slopes of the Cascades, forming there the main bulk of the forest +in many places. It is also common along the borders of the open spaces in +Willamette Valley. In the southern portion of the State the sugar pine, which +is the king of all the pines and the glory of the Sierra forests, occurs in +considerable abundance in the basins of the Umpqua and Rogue Rivers, and it was +in the Umpqua Hills that this noble tree was first discovered by the +enthusiastic botanical explorer David Douglas, in the year 1826. +</p> + +<p> +This is the Douglas for whom the noble Douglas spruce is named, and many a fair +blooming plant also, which will serve to keep his memory fresh and sweet as +long as beautiful trees and flowers are loved. The Indians of the lower +Columbia River watched him with lively curiosity as he wandered about in the +woods day after day, gazing intently on the ground or at the great trees, +collecting specimens of everything he saw, but, unlike all the eager +fur-gathering strangers they had hitherto seen, caring nothing about trade. And +when at length they came to know him better, and saw that from year to year the +growing things of the woods and prairies, meadows and plains, were his only +object of pursuit, they called him the “Man of Grass,” a title of +which he was proud. +</p> + +<p> +He was a Scotchman and first came to this coast in the spring of 1825 under the +auspices of the London Horticultural Society, landing at the mouth of the +Columbia after a long dismal voyage of eight months and fourteen days. During +this first season he chose Fort Vancouver, belonging to the Hudson’s Bay +Company, as his headquarters, and from there made excursions into the glorious +wilderness in every direction, discovering many new species among the trees as +well as among the rich underbrush and smaller herbaceous vegetation. It was +while making a trip to Mount Hood this year that he discovered the two largest +and most beautiful firs in the world (<i>Picea amabilis</i> and <i>P. +nobilis</i>—now called <i>Abies</i>), and from the seeds which he then +collected and sent home tall trees are now growing in Scotland. +</p> + +<p> +In one of his trips that summer, in the lower Willamette Valley, he saw in an +Indian’s tobacco pouch some of the seeds and scales of a new species of +pine, which he learned were gathered from a large tree that grew far to the +southward. Most of the following season was spent on the upper waters of the +Columbia, and it was not until September that he returned to Fort Vancouver, +about the time of the setting-in of the winter rains. Nevertheless, bearing in +mind the great pine he had heard of, and the seeds of which he had seen, he +made haste to set out on an excursion to the headwaters of the Willamette in +search of it; and how he fared on this excursion and what dangers and hardships +he endured is best told in his own journal, part of which I quote as +follows:— +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +October 26th, 1826. Weather dull. Cold and cloudy. When my friends in England +are made acquainted with my travels I fear they will think that I have told +them nothing but my miseries.... I quitted my camp early in the morning to +survey the neighboring country, leaving my guide to take charge of the horses +until my return in the evening. About an hour’s walk from the camp I met +an Indian, who on perceiving me instantly strung his bow, placed on his left +arm a sleeve of raccoon skin and stood on the defensive. Being quite sure that +conduct was prompted by fear and not by hostile intentions, the poor fellow +having probably never seen such a being as myself before, I laid my gun at my +feet on the ground and waved my hand for him to come to me, which he did slowly +and with great caution. I then made him place his bow and quiver of arrows +beside my gun, and striking a light gave him a smoke out of my own pipe and a +present of a few beads. With my pencil I made a rough sketch of the cone and +pine tree which I wanted to obtain and drew his attention to it, when he +instantly pointed with his hand to the hills fifteen or twenty miles distant +towards the south; and when I expressed my intention of going thither, +cheerfully set about accompanying me. At midday I reached my long- wished-for +pines and lost no time in examining them and endeavoring to collect specimens +and seeds. New and strange things seldom fail to make strong impressions and +are therefore frequently overrated; so that, lest I should never see my friends +in England to inform them verbally of this most beautiful and immensely grand +tree, I shall here state the dimensions of the largest I could find among +several that had been blown down by the wind. At three feet from the ground its +circumference is fifty-seven feet, nine inches; at one hundred and thirty-four +feet, seventeen feet five inches; the extreme length two hundred and forty-five +feet.... As it was impossible either to climb the tree or hew it down, I +endeavored to knock off the cones by firing at them with ball, when the report +of my gun brought eight Indians, all of them painted with red earth, armed with +bows, arrows, bone-tipped spears, and flint knives. They appeared anything but +friendly. I explained to them what I wanted and they seemed satisfied and sat +down to smoke; but presently I saw one of them string his bow and another +sharpen his flint knife with a pair of wooden pincers and suspend it on the +wrist of his right hand. Further testimony of their intentions was unnecessary. +To save myself by flight was impossible, so without hesitation I stepped back +about five paces, cocked my gun, drew one of the pistols out of my belt, and +holding it in my left hand, the gun in my right, showed myself determined to +fight for my life. As much as possible I endeavored to preserve my coolness, +and thus we stood looking at one another without making any movement or +uttering a word for perhaps ten minutes, when one at last, who seemed to be the +leader, gave a sign that they wished for some tobacco; this I signified they +should have if they fetched a quantity of cones. They went off immediately in +search of them, and no sooner were they all out of sight than I picked up my +three cones and some twigs of the trees and made the quickest possible retreat, +hurrying back to my camp, which I reached before dusk. The Indian who last +undertook to be my guide to the trees I sent off before gaining my encampment, +lest he should betray me. How irksome is the darkness of night to one under +such circumstances. I cannot speak a word to my guide, nor have I a book to +divert my thoughts, which are continually occupied with the dread lest the +hostile Indians should trace me hither and make an attack. I now write lying on +the grass with my gun cocked beside me, and penning these lines by the light of +my <i>Columbian candle</i>, namely, an ignited piece of rosin-wood. +</p> + +<p> +Douglas named this magnificent species <i>Pinus Lambertiana</i>, in honor of +his friend Dr. Lambert, of London. This is the noblest pine thus far discovered +in the forests of the world, surpassing all others not only in size but in +beauty and majesty. Oregon may well be proud that its discovery was made within +her borders, and that, though it is far more abundant in California, she has +the largest known specimens. In the Sierra the finest sugar pine forests lie at +an elevation of about five thousand feet. In Oregon they occupy much lower +ground, some of the trees being found but little above tide-water. +</p> + +<p> +No lover of trees will ever forget his first meeting with the sugar pine. In +most coniferous trees there is a sameness of form and expression which at +length becomes wearisome to most people who travel far in the woods. But the +sugar pines are as free from conventional forms as any of the oaks. No two are +so much alike as to hide their individuality from any observer. Every tree is +appreciated as a study in itself and proclaims in no uncertain terms the +surpassing grandeur of the species. The branches, mostly near the summit, are +sometimes nearly forty feet long, feathered richly all around with short, leafy +branchlets, and tasseled with cones a foot and a half long. And when these +superb arms are outspread, radiating in every direction, an immense crownlike +mass is formed which, poised on the noble shaft and filled with sunshine, is +one of the grandest forest objects conceivable. But though so wild and +unconventional when full-grown, the sugar pine is a remarkably regular tree in +youth, a strict follower of coniferous fashions, slim, erect, tapering, +symmetrical, every branch in place. At the age of fifty or sixty years this +shy, fashionable form begins to give way. Special branches are thrust out away +from the general outlines of the trees and bent down with cones. Henceforth it +becomes more and more original and independent in style, pushes boldly aloft +into the winds and sunshine, growing ever more stately and beautiful, a joy and +inspiration to every beholder. +</p> + +<p> +Unfortunately, the sugar pine makes excellent lumber. It is too good to live, +and is already passing rapidly away before the woodman’s axe. Surely out +of all of the abounding forest wealth of Oregon a few specimens might be spared +to the world, not as dead lumber, but as living trees. A park of moderate +extent might be set apart and protected for public use forever, containing at +least a few hundreds of each of these noble pines, spruces, and firs. Happy +will be the men who, having the power and the love and benevolent forecast to +do this, will do it. They will not be forgotten. The trees and their lovers +will sing their praises, and generations yet unborn will rise up and call them +blessed. +</p> + +<p> +Dotting the prairies and fringing the edges of the great evergreen forests we +find a considerable number of hardwood trees, such as the oak, maple, ash, +alder, laurel, madrone, flowering dogwood, wild cherry, and wild apple. The +white oak (<i>Quercus Garryana</i>) is the most important of the Oregon oaks as +a timber tree, but not nearly so beautiful as Kellogg’s oak (<i>Q. +Kelloggii</i>). The former is found mostly along the Columbia River, +particularly about the Dalles, and a considerable quantity of useful lumber is +made from it and sold, sometimes for eastern white oak, to wagon makers. +Kellogg’s oak is a magnificent tree and does much for the picturesque +beauty of the Umpqua and Rogue River Valleys where it abounds. It is also found +in all the Yosemite valleys of the Sierra, and its acorns form an important +part of the food of the Digger Indians. In the Siskiyou Mountains there is a +live oak (<i>Q. chrysolepis</i>), wide-spreading and very picturesque in form, +but not very common. It extends southward along the western flank of the Sierra +and is there more abundant and much larger than in Oregon, oftentimes five to +eight feet in diameter. +</p> + +<p> +The maples are the same as those in Washington, already described, but I have +not seen any maple groves here equal in extent or in the size of the trees to +those on the Snoqualmie River. +</p> + +<p> +The Oregon ash is now rare along the stream banks of western Oregon, and it +grows to a good size and furnishes lumber that is for some purposes equal to +the white ash of the Western States. +</p> + +<p> +Nuttall’s flowering dogwood makes a brave display with its wealth of show +involucres in the spring along cool streams. Specimens of the flowers may be +found measuring eight inches in diameter. +</p> + +<p> +The wild cherry (Prunus emarginata, var. mollis) is a small, handsome tree +seldom more than a foot in diameter at the base. It makes valuable lumber and +its black, astringent fruit furnishes a rich resource as food for the birds. A +smaller form is common in the Sierra, the fruit of which is eagerly eaten by +the Indians and hunters in time of need. +</p> + +<p> +The wild apple (<i>Pyrus rivularis</i>) is a fine, hearty, handsome little tree +that grows well in rich, cool soil along streams and on the edges of beaver +meadows from California through Oregon and Washington to southeastern Alaska. +In Oregon it forms dense, tangled thickets, some of them almost impenetrable. +The largest trunks are nearly a foot in diameter. When in bloom it makes a fine +show with its abundant clusters of flowers, which are white and fragrant. The +fruit is very small and savagely acid. It is wholesome, however, and is eaten +by birds, bears, Indians, and many other adventurers, great and small. +</p> + +<p> +Passing from beneath the shadows of the woods where the trees grow close and +high, we step into charming wild gardens full of lilies, orchids, heathworts, +roses, etc., with colors so gay and forming such sumptuous masses of bloom, +they make the gardens of civilization, however lovingly cared for, seem +pathetic and silly. Around the great fire-mountains, above the forests and +beneath the snow, there is a flowery zone of marvelous beauty planted with +anemones, erythroniums, daisies, bryanthus, kalmia, vaccinium, cassiope, +saxifrages, etc., forming one continuous garden fifty or sixty miles in +circumference, and so deep and luxuriant and closely woven it seems as if +Nature, glad to find an opening, were economizing space and trying to see how +may of her bright-eyed darlings she can get together in one mountain wreath. +</p> + +<p> +Along the slopes of the Cascades, where the woods are less dense, especially +about the headwaters of the Willamette, there are miles of rhododendron, making +glorious outbursts of purple bloom, and down on the prairies in rich, damp +hollows the blue-flowered camassia grows in such profusion that at a little +distance its dense masses appear as beautiful blue lakes imbedded in the green, +flowery plains; while all about the streams and the lakes and the beaver +meadows and the margins of the deep woods there is a magnificent tangle of +gaultheria and huckleberry bushes with their myriads of pink bells, reinforced +with hazel, cornel, rubus of many species, wild plum, cherry, and crab apple; +besides thousands of charming bloomers to be found in all sorts of places +throughout the wilderness whose mere names are refreshing, such as linnaea, +menziesia, pyrola, chimaphila, brodiaea, smilacina, fritillaria, calochortus, +trillium, clintonia, veratrum, cypripedium, goodyera, spiranthes, habenaria, +and the rare and lovely “Hider of the North,” <i>Calypso +borealis</i>, to find which is alone a sufficient object for a journey into the +wilderness. And besides these there is a charming underworld of ferns and +mosses flourishing gloriously beneath all the woods. +</p> + +<p> +Everybody loves wild woods and flowers more or less. Seeds of all these Oregon +evergreens and of many of the flowering shrubs and plants have been sent to +almost every country under the sun, and they are now growing in carefully +tended parks and gardens. And now that the ways of approach are open one would +expect to find these woods and gardens full of admiring visitors reveling in +their beauty like bees in a clover field. Yet few care to visit them. A portion +of the bark of one of the California trees, the mere dead skin, excited the +wondering attention of thousands when it was set up in the Crystal Palace in +London, as did also a few peeled spars, the shafts of mere saplings from Oregon +or Washington. Could one of these great silver firs or sugar pines three +hundred feet high have been transplanted entire to that exhibition, how +enthusiastic would have been the praises accorded to it! +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless, the countless hosts waving at home beneath their own sky, beside +their own noble rivers and mountains, and standing on a flower-enameled carpet +of mosses thousands of square miles in extent, attract but little attention. +Most travelers content themselves with what they may chance to see from car +windows, hotel verandas, or the deck of a steamer on the lower +Columbia—clinging to the battered highways like drowning sailors to a +life raft. When an excursion into the woods is proposed, all sorts of +exaggerated or imaginary dangers are conjured up, filling the kindly, soothing +wilderness with colds, fevers, Indians, bears, snakes, bugs, impassable rivers, +and jungles of brush, to which is always added quick and sure starvation. +</p> + +<p> +As to starvation, the woods are full of food, and a supply of bread may easily +be carried for habit’s sake, and replenished now and then at outlying +farms and camps. The Indians are seldom found in the woods, being confined +mainly to the banks of the rivers, where the greater part of their food is +obtained. Moreover, the most of them have been either buried since the +settlement of the country or civilized into comparative innocence, industry, or +harmless laziness. There are bears in the woods, but not in such numbers nor of +such unspeakable ferocity as town-dwellers imagine, nor do bears spend their +lives in going about the country like the devil, seeking whom they may devour. +Oregon bears, like most others, have no liking for man either as meat or as +society; and while some may be curious at times to see what manner of creature +he is, most of them have learned to shun people as deadly enemies. They have +been poisoned, trapped, and shot at until they have become shy, and it is no +longer easy to make their acquaintance. Indeed, since the settlement of the +country, notwithstanding far the greater portion is yet wild, it is difficult +to find any of the larger animals that once were numerous and comparatively +familiar, such as the bear, wolf, panther, lynx, deer, elk, and antelope. +</p> + +<p> +As early as 1843, while the settlers numbered only a few thousands, and before +any sort of government had been organized, they came together and held what +they called “a wolf meeting,” at which a committee was appointed to +devise means for the destruction of wild animals destructive to tame ones, +which committee in due time begged to report as follows:— +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +It being admitted by all that bears, wolves, panthers, etc., are destructive to +the useful animals owned by the settlers of this colony, your committee would +submit the following resolutions as the sense of this meeting, by which the +community may be governed in carrying on a defensive and destructive war on all +such animals:—<br/> + Resolved, 1st.—That we deem it expedient for the community to take +immediate measures for the destruction of all wolves, panthers, and bears, and +such other animals as are known to be destructive to cattle, horses, sheep and +hogs.<br/> + 2d.—That a bounty of fifty cents be paid for the destruction of a +small wolf, $3.00 for a large wolf, $1.50 for a lynx, $2.00 for a bear and +$5.00 for a panther. +</p> + +<p> +This center of destruction was in the Willamette Valley. But for many years +prior to the beginning of the operations of the “Wolf Organization” +the Hudson’s Bay Company had established forts and trading stations over +all the country, wherever fur-gathering Indians could be found, and vast +numbers of these animals were killed. Their destruction has since gone on at an +accelerated rate from year to year as the settlements have been extended, so +that in some cases it is difficult to obtain specimens enough for the use of +naturalists. But even before any of these settlements were made, and before the +coming of the Hudson’s Bay Company, there was very little danger to be +met in passing through this wilderness as far as animals were concerned, and +but little of any kind as compared with the dangers encountered in crowded +houses and streets. +</p> + +<p> +When Lewis and Clark made their famous trip across the continent in 1804-05, +when all the Rocky Mountain region was wild, as well as the Pacific Slope, they +did not lose a single man by wild animals, nor, though frequently attacked, +especially by the grizzlies of the Rocky Mountains, were any of them wounded +seriously. Captain Clark was bitten on the hand by a wolf as he lay asleep; +that was one bite among more than a hundred men while traveling through eight +to nine thousand miles of savage wilderness. They could hardly have been so +fortunate had they stayed at home. They wintered on the edge of the Clatsop +plains, on the south side of the Columbia River near its mouth. In the woods on +that side they found game abundant, especially elk, and with the aid of the +friendly Indians who furnished salmon and “wapatoo” (the tubers of +<i>Sagittaria variabilis</i>), they were in no danger of starving. +</p> + +<p> +But on the return trip in the spring they reached the base of the Rocky +Mountains when the range was yet too heavily snow-laden to be crossed with +horses. Therefore they had to wait some weeks. This was at the head of one of +the northern branches of the Snake River, and, their scanty stock of provisions +being nearly exhausted, the whole party was compelled to live mostly on bears +and dogs; deer, antelope, and elk, usually abundant, were now scarce because +the region had been closely hunted over by the Indians before their arrival. +</p> + +<p> +Lewis and Clark had killed a number of bears and saved the skins of the more +interesting specimens, and the variations they found in size, color of the +hair, etc., made great difficulty in classification. Wishing to get the opinion +of the Chopumish Indians, near one of whose villages they were encamped, +concerning the various species, the explorers unpacked their bundles and spread +out for examination all the skins they had taken. The Indian hunters +immediately classed the white, the deep and the pale grizzly red, the grizzly +dark-brown—in short, all those with the extremities of the hair of a +white or frosty color without regard to the color of the ground or +foil—under the name of hoh-host. The Indians assured them that these were +all of the same species as the white bear, that they associated together, had +longer nails than the others, and never climbed trees. On the other hand, the +black skins, those that were black with white hairs intermixed or with a white +breast, the uniform bay, the brown, and the light reddish-brown, were classed +under the name <i>yack-ah</i>, and were said to resemble each other in being +smaller and having shorter nails, in climbing trees, and being so little +vicious that they could be pursued with safety. +</p> + +<p> +Lewis and Clark came to the conclusion that all those with white-tipped hair +found by them in the basin of the Columbia belonged to the same species as the +grizzlies of the upper Missouri; and that the black and reddish-brown, etc., of +the Rocky Mountains belong to a second species equally distinct from the +grizzly and the black bear of the Pacific Coast and the East, which never vary +in color. +</p> + +<p> +As much as possible should be made by the ordinary traveler of these +descriptions, for he will be likely to see very little of any species for +himself; not that bears no longer exist here, but because, being shy, they keep +out of the way. In order to see them and learn their habits one must go softly +and alone, lingering long in the fringing woods on the banks of the salmon +streams, and in the small openings in the midst of thickets where berries are +most abundant. +</p> + +<p> +As for rattlesnakes, the other grand dread of town dwellers when they leave +beaten roads, there are two, or perhaps three, species of them in Oregon. But +they are nowhere to be found in great numbers. In western Oregon they are +hardly known at all. In all my walks in the Oregon forest I have never met a +single specimen, though a few have been seen at long intervals. +</p> + +<p> +When the country was first settled by the whites, fifty years ago, the elk +roamed through the woods and over the plains to the east of the Cascades in +immense numbers; now they are rarely seen except by experienced hunters who +know their haunts in the deepest and most inaccessible solitudes to which they +have been driven. So majestic an animal forms a tempting mark for the +sportsman’s rifle. Countless thousands have been killed for mere +amusement and they already seem to be nearing extinction as rapidly as the +buffalo. The antelope also is vanishing from the Columbia plains before the +farmers and cattlemen. Whether the moose still lingers in Oregon or Washington +I am unable to say. +</p> + +<p> +On the highest mountains of the Cascade Range the wild goat roams in +comparative security, few of his enemies caring to go so far in pursuit and to +hunt on ground so high and dangerous. He is a brave, sturdy shaggy mountaineer +of an animal, enjoying the freedom and security of crumbling ridges and +overhanging cliffs above the glaciers, oftentimes beyond the reach of the most +daring hunter. They seem to be as much at home on the ice and snowfields as on +the crags, making their way in flocks from ridge to ridge on the great volcanic +mountains by crossing the glaciers that lie between them, traveling in single +file guided by an old experienced leader, like a party of climbers on the Alps. +On these ice-journeys they pick their way through networks of crevasses and +over bridges of snow with admirable skill, and the mountaineer may seldom do +better in such places than to follow their trail, if he can. In the rich alpine +gardens and meadows they find abundance of food, venturing sometimes well down +in the prairie openings on the edge of the timberline, but holding themselves +ever alert and watchful, ready to flee to their highland castles at the +faintest alarm. When their summer pastures are buried beneath the winter snows, +they make haste to the lower ridges, seeking the wind-beaten crags and slopes +where the snow cannot lie at any great depth, feeding at times on the leaves +and twigs of bushes when grass is beyond reach. +</p> + +<p> +The wild sheep is another admirable alpine rover, but comparatively rare in the +Oregon mountains, choosing rather the drier ridges to the southward on the +Cascades and to the eastward among the spurs of the Rocky Mountain chain. +</p> + +<p> +Deer give beautiful animation to the forests, harmonizing finely in their color +and movements with the gray and brown shafts of the trees and the swaying of +the branches as they stand in groups at rest, or move gracefully and +noiselessly over the mossy ground about the edges of beaver meadows and flowery +glades, daintily culling the leaves and tips of the mints and aromatic bushes +on which they feed. There are three species, the black-tailed, white-tailed, +and mule deer; the last being restricted in its range to the open woods and +plains to the eastward of the Cascades. They are nowhere very numerous now, +killing for food, for hides, or for mere wanton sport, having well-nigh +exterminated them in the more accessible regions, while elsewhere they are too +often at the mercy of the wolves. +</p> + +<p> +Gliding about in their shady forest homes, keeping well out of sight, there is +a multitude of sleek fur-clad animals living and enjoying their clean, +beautiful lives. How beautiful and interesting they are is about as difficult +for busy mortals to find out as if their homes were beyond sight in the sky. +Hence the stories of every wild hunter and trapper are eagerly listened to as +being possibly true, or partly so, however thickly clothed in successive folds +of exaggeration and fancy. Unsatisfying as these accounts must be, a +tourist’s frightened rush and scramble through the woods yields far less +than the hunter’s wildest stories, while in writing we can do but little +more than to give a few names, as they come to mind,—beaver, squirrel, +coon, fox, marten, fisher, otter, ermine, wildcat,—only this instead of +full descriptions of the bright-eyed furry throng, their snug home nests, their +fears and fights and loves, how they get their food, rear their young, escape +their enemies, and keep themselves warm and well and exquisitely clean through +all the pitiless weather. +</p> + +<p> +For many years before the settlement of the country the fur of the beaver +brought a high price, and therefore it was pursued with weariless ardor. Not +even in the quest for gold has a more ruthless, desperate energy been +developed. It was in those early beaver-days that the striking class of +adventurers called “free trappers” made their appearance. Bold, +enterprising men, eager to make money, and inclined at the same time to relish +the license of a savage life, would set forth with a few traps and a gun and a +hunting knife, content at first to venture only a short distance up the beaver +streams nearest to the settlements, and where the Indians were not likely to +molest them. There they would set their traps, while the buffalo, antelope, +deer, etc., furnished a royal supply of food. In a few months their pack +animals would be laden with thousands of dollars’ worth of fur. +</p> + +<p> +Next season they would venture farther, and again farther, meanwhile growing +rapidly wilder, getting acquainted with the Indian tribes, and usually marrying +among them. Thenceforward no danger could stay them in their exciting pursuit. +Wherever there were beaver they would go, however far or wild,—the wilder +the better, provided their scalps could be saved. Oftentimes they were +compelled to set their traps and visit them by night and lie hid during the +day, when operating in the neighborhood of hostile Indians. Not then venturing +to make a fire or shoot game, they lived on the raw flesh of the beaver, +perhaps seasoned with wild cresses or berries. Then, returning to the trading +stations, they would spend their hard earnings in a few weeks of dissipation +and “good time,” and go again to the bears and beavers, until at +length a bullet or arrow would end all. One after another would be missed by +some friend or trader at the autumn rendezvous, reported killed by the Indians, +and—forgotten. Some men of this class have, from superior skill or +fortune, escaped every danger, lived to a good old age, and earned fame, and, +by their knowledge of the topography of the vast West then unexplored, have +been able to render important service to the country; but most of them laid +their bones in the wilderness after a few short, keen seasons. So great were +the perils that beset them, the average length of the life of a “free +trapper” has been estimated at less than five years. From the Columbia +waters beaver and beaver men have almost wholly passed away, and the men once +so striking a part of the view have left scarcely the faintest sign of their +existence. On the other hand, a thousand meadows on the mountains tell the +story of the beavers, to remain fresh and green for many a century, monuments +of their happy, industrious lives. +</p> + +<p> +But there is a little airy, elfin animal in these woods, and in all the +evergreen woods of the Pacific Coast, that is more influential and interesting +than even the beaver. This is the Douglas squirrel (<i>Sciurus Douglasi</i>). +Go where you will throughout all these noble forests, you everywhere find this +little squirrel the master-existence. Though only a few inches long, so intense +is his fiery vigor and restlessness, he stirs every grove with wild life, and +makes himself more important than the great bears that shuffle through the +berry tangles beneath him. Every tree feels the sting of his sharp feet. Nature +has made him master-forester, and committed the greater part of the coniferous +crops to his management. Probably over half of all the ripe cones of the +spruces, firs, and pines are cut off and handled by this busy harvester. Most +of them are stored away for food through the winter and spring, but a part are +pushed into shallow pits and covered loosely, where some of the seeds are no +doubt left to germinate and grow up. All the tree squirrels are more or less +birdlike in voice and movements, but the Douglas is pre-eminently so, +possessing every squirrelish attribute, fully developed and concentrated. He is +the squirrel of squirrels, flashing from branch to branch of his favorite +evergreens, crisp and glossy and sound as a sunbeam. He stirs the leaves like a +rustling breeze, darting across openings in arrowy lines, launching in curves, +glinting deftly from side to side in sudden zigzags, and swirling in giddy +loops and spirals around the trunks, now on his haunches, now on his head, yet +ever graceful and performing all his feats of strength and skill without +apparent effort. One never tires of this bright spark of life, the brave little +voice crying in the wilderness. His varied, piney gossip is as savory to the +air as balsam to the palate. Some of his notes are almost flutelike in +softness, while others prick and tingle like thistles. He is the mockingbird of +squirrels, barking like a dog, screaming like a hawk, whistling like a +blackbird or linnet, while in bluff, audacious noisiness he is a jay. A small +thing, but filling and animating all the woods. +</p> + +<p> +Nor is there any lack of wings, notwithstanding few are to be seen on short, +noisy rambles. The ousel sweetens the shady glens and cañons where waterfalls +abound, and every grove or forest, however silent it may seem when we chance to +pay it a hasty visit, has its singers,—thrushes, linnets, +warblers,—while hummingbirds glint and hover about the fringing masses of +bloom around stream and meadow openings. But few of these will show themselves +or sing their songs to those who are ever in haste and getting lost, going in +gangs formidable in color and accoutrements, laughing, hallooing, breaking +limbs off the trees as they pass, awkwardly struggling through briery thickets, +entangled like blue-bottles in spider webs, and stopping from time to time to +fire off their guns and pistols for the sake of the echoes, thus frightening +all the life about them for miles. It is this class of hunters and travelers +who report that there are “no birds in the woods or game animals of any +kind larger than mosquitoes.” +</p> + +<p> +Besides the singing birds mentioned above, the handsome Oregon grouse may be +found in the thick woods, also the dusky grouse and Franklin’s grouse, +and in some places the beautiful mountain partridge, or quail. The white-tailed +ptarmigan lives on the lofty snow peaks above the timber, and the prairie +chicken and sage cock on the broad Columbia plains from the Cascade Range back +to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. The bald eagle is very common along +the Columbia River, or wherever fish, especially salmon, are plentiful, while +swans, herons, cranes, pelicans, geese, ducks of many species, and water birds +in general abound in the lake region, on the main streams, and along the coast, +stirring the waters and sky into fine, lively pictures, greatly to the delight +of wandering lovers of wildness. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap23"></a>XXIII. The Rivers of Oregon</h2> + +<p> +Turning from the woods and their inhabitants to the rivers, we find that while +the former are rarely seen by travelers beyond the immediate borders of the +settlements, the great river of Oregon draws crowds of enthusiastic admirers to +sound its praises. Every summer since the completion of the first overland +railroad, tourists have been coming to it in ever increasing numbers, showing +that in general estimation the Columbia is one of the chief attractions of the +Pacific Coast. And well it deserves the admiration so heartily bestowed upon +it. The beauty and majesty of its waters, and the variety and grandeur of the +scenery through which it flows, lead many to regard it as the most interesting +of all the great rivers of the continent, notwithstanding the claims of the +other members of the family to which it belongs and which nobody can +measure—the Fraser, McKenzie, Saskatchewan, the Missouri, Yellowstone, +Platte, and the Colorado, with their glacier and geyser fountains, their famous +cañons, lakes, forests, and vast flowery prairies and plains. These great +rivers and the Columbia are intimately related. All draw their upper waters +from the same high fountains on the broad, rugged uplift of the Rocky +Mountains, their branches interlacing like the branches of trees. They sing +their first songs together on the heights; then, collecting their tributaries, +they set out on their grand journey to the Atlantic, Pacific, or Arctic Ocean. +</p> + +<p> +The Columbia, viewed as one from the sea to the mountains, is like a rugged, +broad-topped, picturesque old oak about six hundred miles long and nearly a +thousand miles wide measured across the spread of its upper branches, the main +limbs gnarled and swollen with lakes and lakelike expansions, while innumerable +smaller lakes shine like fruit among the smaller branches. The main trunk +extends back through the Coast and Cascade Mountains in a general easterly +direction for three hundred miles, when it divides abruptly into two grand +branches which bend off to the northeastward and southeastward. +</p> + +<p> +The south branch, the longer of the two, called the Snake, or Lewis, River, +extends into the Rocky Mountains as far as the Yellowstone National Park, where +its head tributaries interlace with those of the Colorado, Missouri, and +Yellowstone. The north branch, still called the Columbia, extends through +Washington far into British territory, its highest tributaries reaching back +through long parallel spurs of the Rockies between and beyond the headwaters of +the Fraser, Athabasca, and Saskatchewan. Each of these main branches, dividing +again and again, spreads a network of channels over the vast complicated mass +of the great range throughout a section nearly a thousand miles in length, +searching every fountain, however small or great, and gathering a glorious +harvest of crystal water to be rolled through forest and plain in one majestic +flood to the sea, reinforced on the way by tributaries that drain the Blue +Mountains and more than two hundred miles of the Cascade and Coast Ranges. +Though less than half as long as the Mississippi, it is said to carry as much +water. The amount of its discharge at different seasons, however, has never +been exactly measured, but in time of flood its current is sufficiently massive +and powerful to penetrate the sea to a distance of fifty or sixty miles from +shore, its waters being easily recognized by the difference in color and by the +drift of leaves, berries, pine cones, branches, and trunks of trees that they +carry. +</p> + +<p> +That so large a river as the Columbia, making a telling current so far from +shore, should remain undiscovered while one exploring expedition after another +sailed past seems remarkable, even after due allowance is made for the cloudy +weather that prevails hereabouts and the broad fence of breakers drawn across +the bar. During the last few centuries, when the maps of the world were in +great part blank, the search for new worlds was fashionable business, and when +such large game was no longer to be found, islands lying unclaimed in the great +oceans, inhabited by useful and profitable people to be converted or enslaved, +became attractive objects; also new ways to India, seas, straits, El Dorados, +fountains of youth, and rivers that flowed over golden sands. +</p> + +<p> +Those early explorers and adventurers were mostly brave, enterprising, and, +after their fashion, pious men. In their clumsy sailing vessels they dared to +go where no chart or lighthouse showed the way, where the set of the currents, +the location of sunken outlying rocks and shoals, were all unknown, facing fate +and weather, undaunted however dark the signs, heaving the lead and thrashing +the men to their duty and trusting to Providence. When a new shore was found on +which they could land, they said their prayers with superb audacity, fought the +natives if they cared to fight, erected crosses, and took possession in the +names of their sovereigns, establishing claims, such as they were, to +everything in sight and beyond, to be quarreled for and battled for, and passed +from hand to hand in treaties and settlements made during the intermissions of +war. +</p> + +<p> +The branch of the river that bears the name of Columbia all the way to its head +takes its rise in two lakes about ten miles in length that lie between the +Selkirk and main ranges of the Rocky Mountains in British Columbia, about +eighty miles beyond the boundary line. They are called the Upper and Lower +Columbia Lakes. Issuing from these, the young river holds a nearly straight +course for a hundred and seventy miles in a northwesterly direction to a plain +called “Boat Encampment,” receiving many beautiful affluents by the +way from the Selkirk and main ranges, among which are the Beaver-Foot, +Blackberry, Spill-e-Mee-Chene, and Gold Rivers. At Boat Encampment it receives +two large tributaries, the Canoe River from the northwest, a stream about a +hundred and twenty miles long; and the Whirlpool River from the north, about a +hundred and forty miles in length. +</p> + +<p> +The Whirlpool River takes its rise near the summit of the main axis of the +range on the fifty-fourth parallel, and is the northmost of all the Columbia +waters. About thirty miles above its confluence with the Columbia it flows +through a lake called the Punch-Bowl, and thence it passes between Mounts +Hooker and Brown, said to be fifteen thousand and sixteen thousand feet high, +making magnificent scenery; though the height of the mountains thereabouts has +been considerably overestimated. From Boat Encampment the river, now a large, +clear stream, said to be nearly a third of a mile in width, doubles back on its +original course and flows southward as far as its confluence with the Spokane +in Washington, a distance of nearly three hundred miles in a direct line, most +of the way through a wild, rocky, picturesque mass of mountains, charmingly +forested with pine and spruce—though the trees seem strangely small, like +second growth saplings, to one familiar with the western forests of Washington, +Oregon, and California. +</p> + +<p> +About forty-five miles below Boat Encampment are the Upper Dalles, or Dalles de +Mort, and thirty miles farther the Lower Dalles, where the river makes a +magnificent uproar and interrupts navigation. About thirty miles below the +Lower Dalles the river expands into Upper Arrow Lake, a beautiful sheet of +water forty miles long and five miles wide, straight as an arrow and with the +beautiful forests of the Selkirk range rising from its east shore, and those of +the Gold range from the west. At the foot of the lake are the Narrows, a few +miles in length, and after these rapids are passed, the river enters Lower +Arrow Lake, which is like the Upper Arrow, but is even longer and not so +straight. +</p> + +<p> +A short distance below the Lower Arrow the Columbia receives the Kootenay +River, the largest affluent thus far on its course and said to be navigable for +small steamers for a hundred and fifty miles. It is an exceedingly crooked +stream, heading beyond the upper Columbia lakes, and, in its mazy course, +flowing to all points of the compass, it seems lost and baffled in the tangle +of mountain spurs and ridges it drains. Measured around its loops and bends, it +is probably more than five hundred miles in length. It is also rich in lakes, +the largest, Kootenay Lake, being upwards of seventy miles in length with an +average width of five miles. A short distance below the confluence of the +Kootenay, near the boundary line between Washington and British Columbia, +another large stream comes in from the east, Clarke’s Fork, or the +Flathead River. Its upper sources are near those of the Missouri and South +Saskatchewan, and in its course it flows through two large and beautiful lakes, +the Flathead and the Pend d’Oreille. All the lakes we have noticed thus +far would make charming places of summer resort; but Pend d’Oreille, +besides being surpassingly beautiful, has the advantage of being easily +accessible, since it is on the main line of the Northern Pacific Railroad in +the Territory of Idaho. In the purity of its waters it reminds one of Tahoe, +while its many picturesque islands crowned with evergreens, and its winding +shores forming an endless variety of bays and promontories lavishly crowded +with spiry spruce and cedar, recall some of the best of the island scenery of +Alaska. +</p> + +<p> +About thirty-five miles below the mouth of Clark’s Fork the Columbia is +joined by the Ne-whoi-al-pit-ku River from the northwest. Here too are the +great Chaudiere, or Kettle, Falls on the main river, with a total descent of +about fifty feet. Fifty miles farther down, the Spokane River, a clear, dashing +stream, comes in from the east. It is about one hundred and twenty miles long, +and takes its rise in the beautiful Lake Coeur d’Alene, in Idaho, which +receives the drainage of nearly a hundred miles of the western slopes of the +Bitter Root Mountains, through the St. Joseph and Coeur d’Alene Rivers. +The lake is about twenty miles long, set in the midst of charming scenery, and, +like Pend d’Oreille, is easy of access and is already attracting +attention as a summer place for enjoyment, rest, and health. +</p> + +<p> +The famous Spokane Falls are in Washington, about thirty miles below the lake, +where the river is outspread and divided and makes a grand descent from a level +basaltic plateau, giving rise to one of the most beautiful as well as one of +the greatest and most available of water-powers in the State. The city of the +same name is built on the plateau along both sides of the series of cascades +and falls, which, rushing and sounding through the midst, give singular beauty +and animation. The young city is also rushing and booming. It is founded on a +rock, leveled and prepared for it, and its streets require no grading or +paving. As a power to whirl the machinery of a great city and at the same time +to train the people to a love of the sublime and beautiful as displayed in +living water, the Spokane Falls are unrivaled, at least as far as my +observation has reached. Nowhere else have I seen such lessons given by a river +in the streets of a city, such a glad, exulting, abounding outgush, crisp and +clear from the mountains, dividing, falling, displaying its wealth, calling +aloud in the midst of the busy throng, and making glorious offerings for every +use of utility or adornment. +</p> + +<p> +From the mouth of the Spokane the Columbia, now out of the woods, flows to the +westward with a broad, stately current for a hundred and twenty miles to +receive the Okinagan, a large, generous tributary a hundred and sixty miles +long, coming from the north and drawing some of its waters from the Cascade +Range. More than half its course is through a chain of lakes, the largest of +which at the head of the river is over sixty miles in length. From its +confluence with the Okinagan the river pursues a southerly course for a hundred +and fifty miles, most of the way through a dreary, treeless, parched plain to +meet the great south fork. The Lewis, or Snake, River is nearly a thousand +miles long and drains nearly the whole of Idaho, a territory rich in scenery, +gold mines, flowery, grassy valleys, and deserts, while some of the highest +tributaries reach into Wyoming, Utah, and Nevada. Throughout a great part of +its course it is countersunk in a black lava plain and shut in by mural +precipices a thousand feet high, gloomy, forbidding, and unapproachable, +although the gloominess of its cañon is relieved in some manner by its many +falls and springs, some of the springs being large enough to appear as the +outlets of subterranean rivers. They gush out from the faces of the sheer black +walls and descend foaming with brave roar and beauty to swell the flood below. +</p> + +<p> +From where the river skirts the base of the Blue Mountains its surroundings are +less forbidding. Much of the country is fertile, but its cañon is everywhere +deep and almost inaccessible. Steamers make their way up as far as Lewiston, a +hundred and fifty miles, and receive cargoes of wheat at different points +through chutes that extend down from the tops of the bluffs. But though the +Hudson’s Bay Company navigated the north fork to its sources, they +depended altogether on pack animals for the transportation of supplies and furs +between the Columbia and Fort Hall on the head of the south fork, which shows +how desperately unmanageable a river it must be. +</p> + +<p> +A few miles above the mouth of the Snake the Yakima, which drains a +considerable portion of the Cascade Range, enters from the northwest. It is +about a hundred and fifty miles long, but carries comparatively little water, a +great part of what it sets out with from the base of the mountains being +consumed in irrigated fields and meadows in passing through the settlements +along its course, and by evaporation on the parched desert plains. The grand +flood of the Columbia, now from half a mile to a mile wide, sweeps on to the +westward, holding a nearly direct course until it reaches the mouth of the +Willamette, where it turns to the northward and flows fifty miles along the +main valley between the Coast and Cascade Ranges ere it again resumes its +westward course to the sea. In all its course from the mouth of the Yakima to +the sea, a distance of three hundred miles, the only considerable affluent from +the northward is the Cowlitz, which heads in the glaciers of Mount Rainier. +</p> + +<p> +From the south and east it receives the Walla-Walla and Umatilla, rather short +and dreary-looking streams, though the plains they pass through have proved +fertile, and their upper tributaries in the Blue Mountains, shaded with tall +pines, firs, spruces, and the beautiful Oregon larch (<i>Larix brevifolia</i>), +lead into a delightful region. The John Day River also heads in the Blue +Mountains, and flows into the Columbia sixty miles below the mouth of the +Umatilla. Its valley is in great part fertile, and is noted for the interesting +fossils discovered in it by Professor Condon in sections cut by the river +through the overlying lava beds. +</p> + +<p> +The Deschutes River comes in from the south about twenty miles below the John +Day. It is a large, boisterous stream, draining the eastern slope of the +Cascade Range for nearly two hundred miles, and from the great number of falls +on the main trunk, as well as on its many mountain tributaries, well deserves +its name. It enters the Columbia with a grand roar of falls and rapids, and at +times seems almost to rival the main stream in the volume of water it carries. +Near the mouth of the Deschutes are the Falls of the Columbia, where the river +passes a rough bar of lava. The descent is not great, but the immense volume of +water makes a grand display. During the flood season the falls are obliterated +and skillful boatmen pass over them in safety; while the Dalles, some six or +eight miles below, may be passed during low water but are utterly impassable in +flood time. At the Dalles the vast river is jammed together into a long, narrow +slot of unknown depth cut sheer down in the basalt. +</p> + +<p> +This slot, or trough, is about a mile and a half long and about sixty yards +wide at the narrowest place. At ordinary times the river seems to be set on +edge and runs swiftly but without much noisy surging with a descent of about +twenty feet to the mile. But when the snow is melting on the mountains the +river rises here sixty feet, or even more during extraordinary freshets, and +spreads out over a great breadth of massive rocks through which have been cut +several other gorges running parallel with the one usually occupied. All these +inferior gorges now come into use, and the huge, roaring torrent, still rising +and spreading, at length overwhelms the high jagged rock walls between them, +making a tremendous display of chafing, surging, shattered currents, +counter-currents, and hollow whirls that no words can be made to describe. A +few miles below the Dalles the storm-tossed river gets itself together again, +looks like water, becomes silent, and with stately, tranquil deliberation goes +on its way, out of the gray region of sage and sand into the Oregon woods. +Thirty-five or forty miles below the Dalles are the Cascades of the Columbia, +where the river in passing through the mountains makes another magnificent +display of foaming, surging rapids, which form the first obstruction to +navigation from the ocean, a hundred and twenty miles distant. This obstruction +is to be overcome by locks, which are now being made. +</p> + +<p> +Between the Dalles and the Cascades the river is like a lake a mile or two +wide, lying in a valley, or cañon, about three thousand feet deep. The walls +of the cañon lean well back in most places, and leave here and there small +strips, or bays, of level ground along the water’s edge. But towards the +Cascades, and for some distance below them, the immediate banks are guarded by +walls of columnar basalt, which are worn in many places into a great variety of +bold and picturesque forms, such as the Castle Rock, the Rooster Rock, the +Pillars of Hercules, Cape Horn, etc., while back of these rise the sublime +mountain walls, forest-crowned and fringed more or less from top to base with +pine, spruce, and shaggy underbrush, especially in the narrow gorges and +ravines, where innumerable small streams come dancing and drifting down, misty +and white, to join the mighty river. Many of these falls on both sides of the +cañon of the Columbia are far larger and more interesting in every way than +would be guessed from the slight glimpses one gets of them while sailing past +on the river, or from the car windows. The Multnomah Falls are particularly +interesting, and occupy fern-lined gorges of marvelous beauty in the basalt. +They are said to be about eight hundred feet in height and, at times of high +water when the mountain snows are melting, are well worthy of a place beside +the famous falls of Yosemite Valley. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus11"></a> +<img src="images/img11.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="CAPE HORN, COLUMBIA RIVER" /> +<p class="caption">CAPE HORN, COLUMBIA RIVER</p> +</div> + +<p> +According to an Indian tradition, the river of the Cascades once flowed through +the basalt beneath a natural bridge that was broken down during a mountain war, +when the old volcanoes, Hood and St. Helen’s, on opposite sides of the +river, hurled rocks at each other, thus forming a dam. That the river has been +dammed here to some extent, and within a comparatively short period, seems +probable, to say the least, since great numbers of submerged trees standing +erect may be found along both shores, while, as we have seen, the whole river +for thirty miles above the Cascades looks like a lake or mill-pond. On the +other hand, it is held by some that the submerged groves were carried into +their places by immense landslides. +</p> + +<p> +Much of interest in the connection must necessarily be omitted for want of +space. About forty miles below the Cascades the river receives the Willamette, +the last of its great tributaries. It is navigable for ocean vessels as far as +Portland, ten miles above its mouth, and for river steamers a hundred miles +farther. The Falls of the Willamette are fifteen miles above Portland, where +the river, coming out of dense woods, breaks its way across a bar of black +basalt and falls forty feet in a passion of snowy foam, showing to fine +advantage against its background of evergreens. +</p> + +<p> +Of the fertility and beauty of the Willamette all the world has heard. It lies +between the Cascade and Coast Ranges, and is bounded on the south by the +Calapooya Mountains, a cross-spur that separates it from the valley of the +Umpqua. +</p> + +<p> +It was here the first settlements for agriculture were made and a provisional +government organized, while the settlers, isolated in the far wilderness, +numbered only a few thousand and were laboring under the opposition of the +British Government and the Hudson’s Bay Company. Eager desire in the +acquisition of territory on the part of these pioneer state-builders was more +truly boundless than the wilderness they were in, and their unconscionable +patriotism was equaled only by their belligerence. For here, while negotiations +were pending for the location of the northern boundary, originated the +celebrated “Fifty-four forty or fight,” about as reasonable a +war-cry as the “North Pole or fight.” Yet sad was the day that +brought the news of the signing of the treaty fixing their boundary along the +forty-ninth parallel, thus leaving the little land-hungry settlement only a +mere quarter-million of miles! +</p> + +<p> +As the Willamette is one of the most foodful of valleys, so is the Columbia one +of the most foodful of rivers. During the fisher’s harvest time salmon +from the sea come in countless millions, urging their way against falls, +rapids, and shallows, up into the very heart of the Rocky Mountains, supplying +everybody by the way with most bountiful masses of delicious food, weighing +from twenty to eighty pounds each, plump and smooth like loaves of bread ready +for the oven. The supply seems inexhaustible, as well it might. Large +quantities were used by the Indians as fuel, and by the Hudson’s Bay +people as manure for their gardens at the forts. Used, wasted, canned and sent +in shiploads to all the world, a grand harvest was reaped every year while +nobody sowed. Of late, however, the salmon crop has begun to fail, and millions +of young fry are now sown like wheat in the river every year, from hatching +establishments belonging to the Government. +</p> + +<p> +All of the Oregon waters that win their way to the sea are a tributary to the +Columbia, save the short streams of the immediate coast, and the Umpqua and +Rogue Rivers in southern Oregon. These both head in the Cascade Mountains and +find their way to the sea through gaps in the Coast Range, and both drain large +and fertile and beautiful valleys. Rogue River Valley is peculiarly attractive. +With a fine climate, and kindly, productive soil, the scenery is delightful. +About the main, central open portion of the basin, dotted with picturesque +groves of oak, there are many smaller valleys charmingly environed, the whole +surrounded in the distance by the Siskiyou, Coast, Umpqua, and Cascade +Mountains. Besides the cereals nearly every sort of fruit flourishes here, and +large areas are being devoted to peach, apricot, nectarine, and vine culture. +To me it seems above all others the garden valley of Oregon and the most +delightful place for a home. On the eastern rim of the valley, in the Cascade +Mountains, about sixty miles from Medford in a direct line, is the remarkable +Crater Lake, usually regarded as the one grand wonder of the region. It lies in +a deep, sheer-walled basin about seven thousand feet above the level of the +sea, supposed to be the crater of an extinct volcano. +</p> + +<p> +Oregon as it is today is a very young country, though most of it seems old. +Contemplating the Columbia sweeping from forest to forest, across plain and +desert, one is led to say of it, as did Byron of the ocean,— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Such as Creation’s dawn beheld, thou rollest now.” +</p> + +<p> +How ancient appear the crumbling basaltic monuments along its banks, and the +gray plains to the east of the Cascades! Nevertheless, the river as well as its +basin in anything like their present condition are comparatively but of +yesterday. Looming no further back in the geological records than the Tertiary +Period, the Oregon of that time looks altogether strange in the few suggestive +glimpses we may get of it—forests in which palm trees wave their royal +crowns, and strange animals roaming beneath them or about the reedy margins of +lakes, the oreodon, the lophiodon, and several extinct species of the horse, +the camel, and other animals. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the fire period with its darkening showers of ashes and cinders and +its vast floods of molten lava, making quite another Oregon from the fair and +fertile land of the preceding era. And again, while yet the volcanic fires show +signs of action in the smoke and flame of the higher mountains, the whole +region passes under the dominion of ice, and from the frost and darkness and +death of the Glacial Period, Oregon has but recently emerged to the kindly +warmth and life of today. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap24"></a>XXIV. The Grand Cañon of the Colorado</h2> + +<p> +Happy nowadays is the tourist, with earth’s wonders, new and old, spread +invitingly open before him, and a host of able workers as his slaves making +everything easy, padding plush about him, grading roads for him, boring +tunnels, moving hills out of his way, eager, like the Devil, to show him all +the kingdoms of the world and their glory and foolishness, spiritualizing +travel for him with lightning and steam, abolishing space and time and almost +everything else. Little children and tender, pulpy people, as well as +storm-seasoned explorers, may now go almost everywhere in smooth comfort, cross +oceans and deserts scarce accessible to fishes and birds, and, dragged by steel +horses, go up high mountains, riding gloriously beneath starry showers of +sparks, ascending like Elijah in a whirlwind and chariot of fire. +</p> + +<p> +First of the wonders of the great West to be brought within reach of the +tourist were the Yosemite and the Big Trees, on the completion of the first +transcontinental railway; next came the Yellowstone and icy Alaska, by the +northern roads; and last the Grand Cañon of the Colorado, which, naturally the +hardest to reach, has now become, by a branch of the Santa Fé, the most +accessible of all. +</p> + +<p> +Of course, with this wonderful extension of steel ways through our wildness +there is loss as well as gain. Nearly all railroads are bordered by belts of +desolation. The finest wilderness perishes as if stricken with pestilence. Bird +and beast people, if not the dryads, are frightened from the groves. Too often +the groves also vanish, leaving nothing but ashes. Fortunately, nature has a +few big places beyond man’s power to spoil—the ocean, the two icy +ends of the globe, and the Grand Cañon. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus12"></a> +<img src="images/img12.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="THE GRAND CAÑON AT O’NEILL’S POINT" /> +<p class="caption">THE GRAND CAÑON AT O’NEILL’S POINT</p> +</div> + +<p> +When I first heard of the Santa Fé trains running to the edge of the Grand +Cañon of Arizona, I was troubled with thoughts of the disenchantment likely to +follow. But last winter, when I saw those trains crawling along through the +pines of the Coconino Forest and close up to the brink of the chasm at Bright +Angel, I was glad to discover that in the presence of such stupendous scenery +they are nothing. The locomotives and trains are mere beetles and caterpillars, +and the noise they make is as little disturbing as the hooting of an owl in the +lonely woods. +</p> + +<p> +In a dry, hot, monotonous forested plateau, seemingly boundless, you come +suddenly and without warning upon the abrupt edge of a gigantic sunken +landscape of the wildest, most multitudinous features, and those features, +sharp and angular, are made out of flat beds of limestone and sandstone forming +a spiry, jagged, gloriously colored mountain range countersunk in a level gray +plain. It is a hard job to sketch it even in scrawniest outline; and, try as I +may, not in the least sparing myself, I cannot tell the hundredth part of the +wonders of its features—the side cañons, gorges, alcoves, cloisters, and +amphitheaters of vast sweep and depth, carved in its magnificent walls; the +throng of great architectural rocks it contains resembling castles, cathedrals, +temples, and palaces, towered and spired and painted, some of them nearly a +mile high, yet beneath one’s feet. All this, however, is less difficult +than to give any idea of the impression of wild, primeval beauty and power one +receives in merely gazing from its brink. The view down the gulf of color and +over the rim of its wonderful wall, more than any other view I know, leads us +to think of our earth as a star with stars swimming in light, every radiant +spire pointing the way to the heavens. +</p> + +<p> +But it is impossible to conceive what the cañon is, or what impression it +makes, from descriptions or pictures, however good. Naturally it is untellable +even to those who have seen something perhaps a little like it on a small scale +in this same plateau region. One’s most extravagant expectations are +indefinitely surpassed, though one expects much from what is said of it as +“the biggest chasm on earth”—“so big is it that all +other big things—Yosemite, the Yellowstone, the Pyramids, +Chicago—all would be lost if tumbled into it.” Naturally enough, +illustrations as to size are sought for among other cañons like or unlike it, +with the common result of worse confounding confusion. The prudent keep +silence. It was once said that the “Grand Cañon could put a dozen +Yosemites in its vest pocket.” +</p> + +<p> +The justly famous Grand Cañon of the Yellowstone is, like the Colorado, +gorgeously colored and abruptly countersunk in a plateau, and both are mainly +the work of water. But the Colorado’s cañon is more than a thousand +times larger, and as a score or two of new buildings of ordinary size would not +appreciably change the general view of a great city, so hundreds of +Yellowstones might be eroded in the sides of the Colorado Cañon without +noticeably augmenting its size or the richness of its sculpture. +</p> + +<p> +But it is not true that the great Yosemite rocks would be thus lost or hidden. +Nothing of their kind in the world, so far as I know, rivals El Capitan and +Tissiack, much less dwarfs or in any way belittles them. None of the sandstone +or limestone precipices of the cañon that I have seen or heard of approaches +in smooth, flawless strength and grandeur the granite face of El Capitan or the +Tenaya side of Cloud’s Rest. These colossal cliffs, types of permanence, +are about three thousand and six thousand feet high; those of the cañon that +are sheer are about half as high, and are types of fleeting change; while +glorious-domed Tissiack, noblest of mountain buildings, far from being +overshadowed or lost in this rosy, spiry cañon company, would draw every eye, +and, in serene majesty, “aboon them a’” she would take her +place—castle, temple, palace, or tower. Nevertheless a noted writer, +comparing the Grand Cañon in a general way with the glacial Yosemite, says: +“And the Yosemite—ah, the lovely Yosemite! Dumped down into the +wilderness of gorges and mountains, it would take a guide who knew of its +existence a long time to find it.” This is striking, and shows up well +above the levels of commonplace description, but it is confusing, and has the +fatal fault of not being true. As well try to describe an eagle by putting a +lark in it. “And the lark—ah, the lovely lark! Dumped down the red, +royal gorge of the eagle, it would be hard to find.” Each in its own +place is better, singing at heaven’s gate, and sailing the sky with the +clouds. +</p> + +<p> +Every feature of Nature’s big face is beautiful,—height and hollow, +wrinkle, furrow, and line,—and this is the main master-furrow of its kind +on our continent, incomparably greater and more impressive than any other yet +discovered, or likely to be discovered, now that all the great rivers have been +traced to their heads. +</p> + +<p> +The Colorado River rises in the heart of the continent on the dividing ranges +and ridges between the two oceans, drains thousands of snowy mountains through +narrow or spacious valleys, and thence through cañons of every color, +sheer-walled and deep, all of which seem to be represented in this one grand +cañon of cañons. +</p> + +<p> +It is very hard to give anything like an adequate conception of its size; much +more of its color, its vast wall-sculpture, the wealth of ornate architectural +buildings that fill it, or, most of all, the tremendous impression it makes. +According to Major Powell, it is about two hundred and seventeen miles long, +from five to fifteen miles wide from rim to rim, and from about five thousand +to six thousand feet deep. So tremendous a chasm would be one of the +world’s greatest wonders even if, like ordinary cañons cut in +sedimentary rocks, it were empty and its walls were simple. But instead of +being plain, the walls are so deeply and elaborately carved into all sorts of +recesses—alcoves, cirques, amphitheaters, and side cañons—that, +were you to trace the rim closely around on both sides, your journey would be +nearly a thousand miles long. Into all these recesses the level, continuous +beds of rock in ledges and benches, with their various colors, run like broad +ribbons, marvelously beautiful and effective even at a distance of ten or +twelve miles. And the vast space these glorious walls enclose, instead of being +empty, is crowded with gigantic architectural rock forms gorgeously colored and +adorned with towers and spires like works of art. +</p> + +<p> +Looking down from this level plateau, we are more impressed with a feeling of +being on the top of everything than when looking from the summit of a mountain. +From side to side of the vast gulf, temples, palaces, towers, and spires come +soaring up in thick array half a mile or nearly a mile above their sunken, +hidden bases, some to a level with our standpoint, but none higher. And in the +inspiring morning light all are so fresh and rosy-looking that they seem +new-born; as if, like the quick-growing crimson snowplants of the California +woods, they had just sprung up, hatched by the warm, brooding, motherly +weather. +</p> + +<p> +In trying to describe the great pines and sequoias of the Sierra, I have often +thought that if one of these trees could be set by itself in some city park, +its grandeur might there be impressively realized; while in its home forests, +where all magnitudes are great, the weary, satiated traveler sees none of them +truly. It is so with these majestic rock structures. +</p> + +<p> +Though mere residual masses of the plateau, they are dowered with the grandeur +and repose of mountains, together with the finely chiseled carving and modeling +of man’s temples and palaces, and often, to a considerable extent, with +their symmetry. Some, closely observed, look like ruins; but even these stand +plumb and true, and show architectural forms loaded with lines strictly regular +and decorative, and all are arrayed in colors that storms and time seem only to +brighten. They are not placed in regular rows in line with the river, but +“a’ through ither,” as the Scotch say, in lavish, exuberant +crowds, as if nature in wildest extravagance held her bravest structures as +common as gravel-piles. Yonder stands a spiry cathedral nearly five thousand +feet in height, nobly symmetrical, with sheer buttressed walls and arched doors +and windows, as richly finished and decorated with sculptures as the great rock +temples of India or Egypt. Beside it rises a huge castle with arched gateway, +turrets, watch-towers, ramparts, etc., and to right and left palaces, obelisks, +and pyramids fairly fill the gulf, all colossal and all lavishly painted and +carved. Here and there a flat-topped structure may be seen, or one imperfectly +domed; but the prevailing style is ornate Gothic, with many hints of Egyptian +and Indian. +</p> + +<p> +Throughout this vast extent of wild architecture—nature’s own +capital city—there seem to be no ordinary dwellings. All look like grand +and important public structures, except perhaps some of the lower pyramids, +broad-based and sharp-pointed, covered with down-flowing talus like loosely set +tents with hollow, sagging sides. The roofs often have disintegrated rocks +heaped and draggled over them, but in the main the masonry is firm and laid in +regular courses, as if done by square and rule. +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless they are ever changing; their tops are now a dome, now a flat +table or a spire, as harder or softer strata are reached in their slow +degradation, while the sides, with all their fine moldings, are being steadily +undermined and eaten away. But no essential change in style or color is thus +effected. From century to century they stand the same. What seems confusion +among the rough earthquake-shaken crags nearest one comes to order as soon as +the main plan of the various structures appears. Every building, however +complicated and laden with ornamental lines, is at one with itself and every +one of its neighbors, for the same characteristic controlling belts of color +and solid strata extend with wonderful constancy for very great distances, and +pass through and give style to thousands of separate structures, however their +smaller characters may vary. +</p> + +<p> +Of all the various kinds of ornamental work displayed—carving, tracery on +cliff faces, moldings, arches, pinnacles—none is more admirably effective +or charms more than the webs of rain-channeled taluses. Marvelously extensive, +without the slightest appearance of waste or excess, they cover roofs and dome +tops and the base of every cliff, belt each spire and pyramid and massy, +towering temple, and in beautiful continuous lines go sweeping along the great +walls in and out around all the intricate system of side cañons, +amphitheaters, cirques, and scallops into which they are sculptured. From one +point hundreds of miles of the fairy embroidery may be traced. It is all so +fine and orderly that it would seem that not only had the clouds and streams +been kept harmoniously busy in the making of it, but that every raindrop sent +like a bullet to a mark had been the subject of a separate thought, so sure is +the outcome of beauty through the stormy centuries. Surely nowhere else are +there illustrations so striking of the natural beauty of desolation and death, +so many of nature’s own mountain buildings wasting in glory of high +desert air—going to dust. See how steadfast in beauty they all are in +their going. Look again and again how the rough, dusty boulders and sand of +disintegration from the upper ledges wreathe in beauty for ashes—as in +the flowers of a prairie after fires—but here the very dust and ashes are +beautiful. +</p> + +<p> +Gazing across the mighty chasm, we at last discover that it is not its great +depth nor length, nor yet these wonderful buildings, that most impresses us. It +is its immense width, sharply defined by precipitous walls plunging suddenly +down from a flat plain, declaring in terms instantly apprehended that the vast +gulf is a gash in the once unbroken plateau, made by slow, orderly erosion and +removal of huge beds of rocks. Other valleys of erosion are as great—in +all their dimensions some are greater—but none of these produces an +effect on the imagination at once so quick and profound, coming without study, +given at a glance. Therefore by far the greatest and most influential feature +of this view from Bright Angel or any other of the cañon views is the opposite +wall. Of the one beneath our feet we see only fragmentary sections in cirques +and amphitheaters and on the sides of the out-jutting promontories between +them, while the other, though far distant, is beheld in all its glory of color +and noble proportions—the one supreme beauty and wonder to which the eye +is ever turning. For while charming with its beauty it tells the story of the +stupendous erosion of the cañon—the foundation of the unspeakable +impression made on everybody. It seems a gigantic statement for even nature to +make, all in one mighty stone word, apprehended at once like a burst of light, +celestial color its natural vesture, coming in glory to mind and heart as to a +home prepared for it from the very beginning. Wildness so godful, cosmic, +primeval, bestows a new sense of earth’s beauty and size. Not even from +high mountains does the world seem so wide, so like a star in glory of light on +its way through the heavens. +</p> + +<p> +I have observed scenery-hunters of all sorts getting first views of yosemites, +glaciers, White Mountain ranges, etc. Mixed with the enthusiasm which such +scenery naturally excites, there is often weak gushing, and many splutter aloud +like little waterfalls. Here, for a few moments at least, there is silence, and +all are in dead earnest, as if awed and hushed by an earthquake—perhaps +until the cook cries “Breakfast!” or the stable-boy “Horses +are ready!” Then the poor unfortunates, slaves of regular habits, turn +quickly away, gasping and muttering as if wondering where they had been and +what had enchanted them. +</p> + +<p> +Roads have been made from Bright Angel Hotel through the Coconino Forest to the +ends of outstanding promontories, commanding extensive views up and down the +cañon. The nearest of them, three or four miles east and west, are +O’Neill’s Point and Rowe’s Point; the latter, besides +commanding the eternally interesting cañon, gives wide-sweeping views +southeast and west over the dark forest roof to the San Francisco and Mount +Trumbull volcanoes—the bluest of mountains over the blackest of level +woods. +</p> + +<p> +Instead of thus riding in dust with the crowd, more will be gained by going +quietly afoot along the rim at different times of day and night, free to +observe the vegetation, the fossils in the rocks, the seams beneath overhanging +ledges once inhabited by Indians, and to watch the stupendous scenery in the +changing lights and shadows, clouds, showers, and storms. One need not go +hunting the so-called “points of interest.” The verge anywhere, +everywhere, is a point of interest beyond one’s wildest dreams. +</p> + +<p> +As yet, few of the promontories or throng of mountain buildings in the cañon +are named. Nor among such exuberance of forms are names thought of by the +bewildered, hurried tourist. He would be as likely to think of names for waves +in a storm. The Eastern and Western Cloisters, Hindu Amphitheater, Cape Royal, +Powell’s Plateau, Grand View Point, Point Sublime, Bissell and Moran +Points, the Temple of Set, Vishnu’s Temple, Shiva’s Temple, Twin +Temples, Tower of Babel, Hance’s Column—these fairly good names +given by Dutton, Holmes, Moran, and others are scattered over a large stretch +of the cañon wilderness. +</p> + +<p> +All the cañon rock-beds are lavishly painted, except a few neutral bars and the +granite notch at the bottom occupied by the river, which makes but little sign. +It is a vast wilderness of rocks in a sea of light, colored and glowing like +oak and maple woods in autumn, when the sun-gold is richest. I have just said +that it is impossible to learn what the cañon is like from descriptions and +pictures. Powell’s and Dutton’s descriptions present magnificent +views not only of the cañon but of all the grand region round about it; and +Holmes’s drawings, accompanying Dutton’s report, are wonderfully +good. Surely faithful and loving skill can go no farther in putting the +multitudinous decorated forms on paper. But the <i>colors</i>, the living +rejoicing <i>colors</i>, chanting morning and evening in chorus to heaven! +Whose brush or pencil, however lovingly inspired, can give us these? And if +paint is of no effect, what hope lies in pen-work? Only this: some may be +incited by it to go and see for themselves. +</p> + +<p> +No other range of mountainous rock-work of anything like the same extent have I +seen that is so strangely, boldly, lavishly colored. The famous Yellowstone +Cañon below the falls comes to mind; but, wonderful as it is, and well +deserved as is its fame, compared with this it is only a bright rainbow ribbon +at the roots of the pines. Each of the series of level, continuous beds of +carboniferous rocks of the cañon has, as we have seen, its own characteristic +color. The summit limestone beds are pale yellow; next below these are the +beautiful rose-colored cross-bedded sandstones; next there are a thousand feet +of brilliant red sandstones; and below these the red wall limestones, over two +thousand feet thick, rich massy red, the greatest and most influential of the +series, and forming the main color-fountain. Between these are many +neutral-tinted beds. The prevailing colors are wonderfully deep and clear, +changing and blending with varying intensity from hour to hour, day to day, +season to season; throbbing, wavering, glowing, responding to every passing +cloud or storm, a world of color in itself, now burning in separate rainbow +bars streaked and blotched with shade, now glowing in one smooth, all-pervading +ethereal radiance like the alpenglow, uniting the rocky world with the heavens. +</p> + +<p> +The dawn, as in all the pure, dry desert country is ineffably beautiful; and +when the first level sunbeams sting the domes and spires, with what a burst of +power the big, wild days begin! The dead and the living, rocks and hearts +alike, awake and sing the new-old song of creation. All the massy headlands and +salient angles of the walls, and the multitudinous temples and palaces, seem to +catch the light at once, and cast thick black shadows athwart hollow and gorge, +bringing out details as well as the main massive features of the architecture; +while all the rocks, as if wild with life, throb and quiver and glow in the +glorious sunburst, rejoicing. Every rock temple then becomes a temple of music; +every spire and pinnacle an angel of light and song, shouting color +hallelujahs. +</p> + +<p> +As the day draws to a close, shadows, wondrous, black, and thick, like those of +the morning, fill up the wall hollows, while the glowing rocks, their rough +angles burned off, seem soft and hot to the heart as they stand submerged in +purple haze, which now fills the cañon like a sea. Still deeper, richer, more +divine grow the great walls and temples, until in the supreme flaming glory of +sunset the whole cañon is transfigured, as if all the life and light of +centuries of sunshine stored up and condensed in the rocks was now being poured +forth as from one glorious fountain, flooding both earth and sky. +</p> + +<p> +Strange to say, in the full white effulgence of the midday hours the bright +colors grow dim and terrestrial in common gray haze; and the rocks, after the +manner of mountains, seem to crouch and drowse and shrink to less than half +their real stature, and have nothing to say to one, as if not at home. But it +is fine to see how quickly they come to life and grow radiant and communicative +as soon as a band of white clouds come floating by. As if shouting for joy, +they seem to spring up to meet them in hearty salutation, eager to touch them +and beg their blessings. It is just in the midst of these dull midday hours +that the cañon clouds are born. +</p> + +<p> +A good storm cloud full of lightning and rain on its way to its work on a sunny +desert day is a glorious object. Across the cañon, opposite the hotel, is a +little tributary of the Colorado called Bright Angel Creek. A fountain-cloud +still better deserves the name “Angel of the Desert +Wells”—clad in bright plumage, carrying cool shade and living water +to countless animals and plants ready to perish, noble in form and gesture, +seeming able for anything, pouring life-giving, wonder-working floods from its +alabaster fountains, as if some sky-lake had broken. To every gulch and gorge +on its favorite ground is given a passionate torrent, roaring, replying to the +rejoicing lightning—stones, tons in weight, hurrying away as if +frightened, showing something of the way Grand Cañon work is done. Most of the +fertile summer clouds of the cañon are of this sort, massive, swelling cumuli, +growing rapidly, displaying delicious tones of purple and gray in the hollows +of their sun-beaten houses, showering favored areas of the heated landscape, +and vanishing in an hour or two. Some, busy and thoughtful-looking, glide with +beautiful motion along the middle of the cañon in flocks, turning aside here +and there, lingering as if studying the needs of particular spots, exploring +side cañons, peering into hollows like birds seeding nest-places, or hovering +aloft on outspread wings. They scan all the red wilderness, dispensing their +blessings of cool shadows and rain where the need is the greatest, refreshing +the rocks, their offspring as well as the vegetation, continuing their +sculpture, deepening gorges and sharpening peaks. Sometimes, blending all +together, they weave a ceiling from rim to rim, perhaps opening a window here +and there for sunshine to stream through, suddenly lighting some palace or +temple and making it flare in the rain as if on fire. +</p> + +<p> +Sometimes, as one sits gazing from a high, jutting promontory, the sky all +clear, showing not the slightest wisp or penciling, a bright band of cumuli +will appear suddenly, coming up the cañon in single file, as if tracing a +well-known trail, passing in review, each in turn darting its lances and +dropping its shower, making a row of little vertical rivers in the air above +the big brown one. Others seem to grow from mere points, and fly high above the +cañon, yet following its course for a long time, noiseless, as if hunting, +then suddenly darting lightning at unseen marks, and hurrying on. Or they +loiter here and there as if idle, like laborers out of work, waiting to be +hired. +</p> + +<p> +Half a dozen or more showers may oftentimes be seen falling at once, while far +the greater part of the sky is in sunshine, and not a raindrop comes nigh one. +These thundershowers from as many separate clouds, looking like wisps of long +hair, may vary greatly in effects. The pale, faint streaks are showers that +fail to reach the ground, being evaporated on the way down through the dry, +thirsty air, like streams in deserts. Many, on the other hand, which in the +distance seem insignificant, are really heavy rain, however local; these are +the gray wisps well zigzagged with lightning. The darker ones are torrent rain, +which on broad, steep slopes of favorable conformation give rise to so-called +“cloudbursts”; and wonderful is the commotion they cause. The +gorges and gulches below them, usually dry, break out in loud uproar, with a +sudden downrush of muddy, boulder-laden floods. Down they all go in one +simultaneous gush, roaring like lions rudely awakened, each of the tawny brood +actually kicking up a dust at the first onset. +</p> + +<p> +During the winter months snow falls over all the high plateau, usually to a +considerable depth, whitening the rim and the roofs of the cañon buildings. +But last winter, when I arrived at Bright Angel in the middle of January, there +was no snow in sight, and the ground was dry, greatly to my disappointment, for +I had made the trip mainly to see the cañon in its winter garb. Soothingly I +was informed that this was an exceptional season, and that the good snow might +arrive at any time. After waiting a few days, I gladly hailed a broad-browed +cloud coming grandly on from the west in big promising blackness, very unlike +the white sailors of the summer skies. Under the lee of a rim-ledge, with +another snow-lover, I watched its movements as it took possession of the cañon +and all the adjacent region in sight. Trailing its gray fringes over the spiry +tops of the great temples and towers, it gradually settled lower, embracing +them all with ineffable kindness and gentleness of touch, and fondled the +little cedars and pines as they quivered eagerly in the wind like young birds +begging their mothers to feed them. The first flakes and crystals began to fly +about noon, sweeping straight up the middle of the cañon, and swirling in +magnificent eddies along the sides. Gradually the hearty swarms closed their +ranks, and all the cañon was lost in gray bloom except a short section of the +wall and a few trees beside us, which looked glad with snow in their needles +and about their feet as they leaned out over the gulf. Suddenly the storm +opened with magical effect to the north over the cañon of Bright Angel Creek, +inclosing a sunlit mass of the cañon architecture, spanned by great white +concentric arches of cloud like the bows of a silvery aurora. Above these and a +little back of them was a series of upboiling purple clouds, and high above +all, in the background, a range of noble cumuli towered aloft like snow-laden +mountains, their pure pearl bosses flooded with sunshine. The whole noble +picture, calmly glowing, was framed in thick gray gloom, which soon closed over +it; and the storm went on, opening and closing until night covered all. +</p> + +<p> +Two days later, when we were on a jutting point about eighteen miles east of +Bright Angel and one thousand feet higher, we enjoyed another storm of equal +glory as to cloud effects, though only a few inches of snow fell. Before the +storm began we had a magnificent view of this grander upper part of the cañon +and also of the Coconino Forest and the Painted Desert. The march of the clouds +with their storm banners flying over this sublime landscape was unspeakably +glorious, and so also was the breaking up of the storm next morning—the +mingling of silver-capped rock, sunshine, and cloud. +</p> + +<p> +Most tourists make out to be in a hurry even here; therefore their days or +hours would be best spent on the promontories nearest the hotel. Yet a +surprising number go down the Bright Angel Trail to the brink of the inner +gloomy granite gorge overlooking the river. Deep cañons attract like high +mountains; the deeper they are, the more surely are we drawn into them. On +foot, of course, there is no danger whatever, and, with ordinary precautions, +but little on animals. In comfortable tourist faith, unthinking, unfearing, +down go men, women, and children on whatever is offered, horse, mule, or burro, +as if saying with Jean Paul, “fear nothing but fear”—not +without reason, for these cañon trails down the stairways of the gods are less +dangerous than they seem, less dangerous than home stairs. The guides are +cautious, and so are the experienced, much-enduring beasts. The scrawniest +Rosinantes and wizened-rat mules cling hard to the rocks endwise or sidewise, +like lizards or ants. From terrace to terrace, climate to climate, down one +creeps in sun and shade, through gorge and gully and grassy ravine, and, after +a long scramble on foot, at last beneath the mighty cliffs one comes to the +grand, roaring river. +</p> + +<p> +To the mountaineer the depth of the cañon, from five thousand to six thousand +feet, will not seem so very wonderful, for he has often explored others that +are about as deep. But the most experienced will be awestruck by the vast +extent of huge rock monuments of pointed masonry built up in regular courses +towering above, beneath, and round about him. By the Bright Angel Trail the +last fifteen hundred feet of the descent to the river has to be made afoot down +the gorge of Indian Garden Creek. Most of the visitors do not like this part, +and are content to stop at the end of the horse trail and look down on the +dull-brown flood from the edge of the Indian Garden Plateau. By the new Hance +Trail, excepting a few daringly steep spots, you can ride all the way to the +river, where there is a good spacious camp-ground in a mesquite grove. This +trail, built by brave Hance, begins on the highest part of the rim, eight +thousand feet above the sea, a thousand feet higher than the head of Bright +Angel Trail, and the descent is a little over six thousand feet, through a +wonderful variety of climate and life. Often late in the fall, when frosty +winds are blowing and snow is flying at one end of the trail, tender plants are +blooming in balmy summer weather at the other. The trip down and up can be made +afoot easily in a day. In this way one is free to observe the scenery and +vegetation, instead of merely clinging to his animal and watching its steps. +But all who have time should go prepared to camp awhile on the riverbank, to +rest and learn something about the plants and animals and the mighty flood +roaring past. In cool, shady amphitheaters at the head of the trail there are +groves of white silver fir and Douglas spruce, with ferns and saxifrages that +recall snowy mountains; below these, yellow pine, nut pine, juniper, +hop-hornbeam, ash, maple, holly-leaved berberis, cowania, spiraea, dwarf oak, +and other small shrubs and trees. In dry gulches and on taluses and sun-beaten +crags are sparsely scattered yuccas, cactuses, agave, etc. Where springs gush +from the rocks there are willow thickets, grassy flats, and bright, flowery +gardens, and in the hottest recesses the delicate abronia, mesquite, woody +compositae, and arborescent cactuses. +</p> + +<p> +The most striking and characteristic part of this widely varied vegetation are +the cactaceae—strange, leafless, old-fashioned plants with beautiful +flowers and fruit, in every way able and admirable. While grimly defending +themselves with innumerable barbed spears, they offer both food and drink to +man and beast. Their juicy globes and disks and fluted cylindrical columns are +almost the only desert wells that never go dry, and they always seem to rejoice +the more and grow plumper and juicier the hotter the sunshine and sand. Some +are spherical, like rolled-up porcupines, crouching in rock-hollows beneath a +mist of gray lances, unmoved by the wildest winds. Others, standing as erect as +bushes and trees or tall branchless pillars crowned with magnificent flowers, +their prickly armor sparkling, look boldly abroad over the glaring desert, +making the strangest forests ever seen or dreamed of. <i>Cereus giganteus</i>, +the grim chief of the desert tribe, is often thirty or forty feet high in +southern Arizona. Several species of tree yuccas in the same desert, laden in +early spring with superb white lilies, form forests hardly less wonderful, +though here they grow singly or in small lonely groves. The low, almost +stemless <i>Yucca baccata</i>, with beautiful lily flowers and sweet +banana-like fruit, prized by the Indians, is common along the cañon rim, +growing on lean, rocky soil beneath mountain mahogany, nut pines, and junipers, +beside dense flowery mats of <i>Spiræa cæspitosa</i> and the beautiful +pinnate-leaved <i>Spiræa millefolia</i>. The nut pine (<i>Pinus edulis</i>) +scattered along the upper slopes and roofs of the cañon buildings, is the +principal tree of the strange dwarf Coconino Forest. It is a picturesque stub +of a pine about twenty-five feet high, usually with dead, lichened limbs thrust +through its rounded head, and grows on crags and fissured rock tables, braving +heat and frost, snow and drought, and continuing patiently, faithfully fruitful +for centuries. Indians and insects and almost every desert bird and beast come +to it to be fed. +</p> + +<p> +To civilized people from corn and cattle and wheat-field countries the cañon +at first sight seems as uninhabitable as a glacier crevasse, utterly silent and +barren. Nevertheless it is the home of the multitude of our fellow-mortals, men +as well as animals and plants. Centuries ago it was inhabited by tribes of +Indians, who, long before Columbus saw America, built thousands of stone houses +in its crags, and large ones, some of them several stories high, with hundreds +of rooms, on the mesas of the adjacent regions. Their cliff-dwellings, almost +numberless, are still to be seen in the cañon, scattered along both sides from +top to bottom and throughout its entire length, built of stone and mortar in +seams and fissures like swallows’ nests, or on isolated ridges and peaks. +The ruins of larger buildings are found on open spots by the river, but most of +them aloft on the brink of the wildest, giddiest precipices, sites evidently +chosen for safety from enemies, and seemingly accessible only to the birds of +the air. Many caves were also used as dwelling-places, as were mere seams on +cliff-fronts formed by unequal weathering and with or without outer or side +walls; and some of them were covered with colored pictures of animals. The most +interesting of these cliff-dwellings had pathetic little ribbon-like strips of +garden on narrow terraces, where irrigating water could be carried to +them—most romantic of sky-gardens, but eloquent of hard times. +</p> + +<p> +In recesses along the river and on the first plateau flats above its gorge were +fields and gardens of considerable size, where irrigating ditches may still be +traced. Some of these ancient gardens are still cultivated by Indians, +descendants of cliff-dwellers, who raise corn, squashes, melons, potatoes, +etc., to reinforce the produce of the many wild food-furnishing +plants—nuts, beans, berries, yucca and cactus fruits, grass and sunflower +seeds, etc.—and the flesh of animals—deer, rabbits, lizards, etc. +The cañon Indians I have met here seem to be living much as did their +ancestors, though not now driven into rock-dens. They are able, erect men, with +commanding eyes, which nothing that they wish to see can escape. They are never +in a hurry, have a strikingly measured, deliberate, bearish manner of moving +the limbs and turning the head, are capable of enduring weather, thirst, +hunger, and over-abundance, and are blessed with stomachs which triumph over +everything the wilderness may offer. Evidently their lives are not bitter. +</p> + +<p> +The largest of the cañon animals one is likely to see is the wild sheep, or +Rocky Mountain bighorn, a most admirable beast, with limbs that never fail, at +home on the most nerve-trying precipices, acquainted with all the springs and +passes and broken-down jumpable places in the sheer ribbon cliffs, bounding +from crag to crag in easy grace and confidence of strength, his great horns +held high above his shoulders, wild red blood beating and hissing through every +fiber of him like the wind through a quivering mountain pine. +</p> + +<p> +Deer also are occasionally met in the cañon, making their way to the river +when the wells of the plateau are dry. Along the short spring streams beavers +are still busy, as is shown by the cottonwood and willow timber they have cut +and peeled, found in all the river drift-heaps. In the most barren cliffs and +gulches there dwell a multitude of lesser animals, well-dressed, clear-eyed, +happy little beasts—wood rats, kangaroo rats, gophers, wood mice, skunks, +rabbits, bobcats, and many others, gathering food, or dozing in their +sun-warmed dens. Lizards, too, of every kind and color are here enjoying life +on the hot cliffs, and making the brightest of them brighter. +</p> + +<p> +Nor is there any lack of feathered people. The golden eagle may be seen, and +the osprey, hawks, jays, hummingbirds, the mourning dove, and cheery familiar +singers—the black-headed grosbeak, robin, bluebird, Townsend’s +thrush, and many warblers, sailing the sky and enlivening the rocks and bushes +through all the cañon wilderness. +</p> + +<p> +Here at Hance’s river camp or a few miles above it brave Powell and his +brave men passed their first night in the cañon on the adventurous voyage of +discovery thirty-three<a href="#linknote-34" +name="linknoteref-34"><sup>[34]</sup></a> years ago. They faced a thousand +dangers, open or hidden, now in their boats gladly sliding down swift, smooth +reaches, now rolled over and over in back-combing surges of rough, roaring +cataracts, sucked under in eddies, swimming like beavers, tossed and beaten +like castaway drift—stout-hearted, undaunted, doing their work through it +all. After a month of this they floated smoothly out of the dark, gloomy, +roaring abyss into light and safety two hundred miles below. As the flood +rushes past us, heavy-laden with desert mud, we naturally think of its sources, +its countless silvery branches outspread on thousands of snowy mountains along +the crest of the continent, and the life of them, the beauty of them, their +history and romance. Its topmost springs are far north and east in Wyoming and +Colorado, on the snowy Wind River, Front, Park, and Sawatch Ranges, dividing +the two ocean waters, and the Elk, Wahsatch, Uinta, and innumerable spurs +streaked with streams, made famous by early explorers and hunters. It is a +river of rivers—the Du Chesne, San Rafael, Yampa, Dolores, Gunnison, +Cochetopa, Uncompahgre, Eagle, and Roaring Rivers, the Green and the Grand, and +scores of others with branches innumerable, as mad and glad a band as ever sang +on mountains, descending in glory of foam and spray from snow-banks and +glaciers through their rocky moraine-dammed, beaver-dammed channels. Then, all +emerging from dark balsam and pine woods and coming together, they meander +through wide, sunny park valleys, and at length enter the great plateau and +flow in deep cañons, the beginning of the system culminating in this grand +cañon of cañons. +</p> + +<p> +Our warm cañon camp is also a good place to give a thought to the glaciers +which still exist at the heads of the highest tributaries. Some of them are of +considerable size, especially those on the Wind River and Sawatch ranges in +Wyoming and Colorado. They are remnants of a vast system of glaciers which +recently covered the upper part of the Colorado basin, sculptured its peaks, +ridges, and valleys to their present forms, and extended far out over the +plateau region—how far I cannot now say. It appears, therefore, that, +however old the main trunk of the Colorado may be, all its widespread upper +branches and the landscapes they flow through are new-born, scarce at all +changed as yet in any important feature since they first came to light at the +close of the Glacial Period. +</p> + +<p> +The so-called Grand Colorado Plateau, of which the Grand Cañon is only one of +the well-proportioned features, extends with a breadth of hundreds of miles +from the flanks of the Wahsatch and Park Mountains to the south of the San +Francisco Peaks. Immediately to the north of the deepest part of the cañon it +rises in a series of subordinate plateaus, diversified with green meadows, +marshes, bogs, ponds, forests, and grovy park valleys, a favorite Indian +hunting ground, inhabited by elk, deer, beaver, etc. But far the greater part +of the plateau is good sound desert, rocky, sandy, or fluffy with loose ashes +and dust, dissected in some places into a labyrinth of stream-channel chasms +like cracks in a dry clay-bed, or the narrow slit crevasses of +glaciers—blackened with lava flows, dotted with volcanoes and beautiful +buttes, and lined with long continuous escarpments—a vast bed of +sediments of an ancient sea-bottom, still nearly as level as when first laid +down after being heaved into the sky a mile or two high. +</p> + +<p> +Walking quietly about in the alleys and byways of the Grand Cañon city, we +learn something of the way it was made; and all must admire effects so great +from means apparently so simple; rain striking light hammer blows or heavier in +streams, with many rest Sundays; soft air and light, gentle sappers and miners, +toiling forever; the big river sawing the plateau asunder, carrying away the +eroded and ground waste, and exposing the edges of the strata to the weather; +rain torrents sawing cross-streets and alleys, exposing the strata in the same +way in hundreds of sections, the softer, less resisting beds weathering and +receding faster, thus undermining the harder beds, which fall, not only in +small weathered particles, but in heavy sheer-cleaving masses, assisted down +from time to time by kindly earthquakes, rain torrents rushing the fallen +material to the river, keeping the wall rocks constantly exposed. Thus the +cañon grows wider and deeper. So also do the side cañons and amphitheaters, +while secondary gorges and cirques gradually isolate masses of the +promontories, forming new buildings, all of which are being weathered and +pulled and shaken down while being built, showing destruction and creation as +one. We see the proudest temples and palaces in stateliest attitudes, wearing +their sheets of detritus as royal robes, shedding off showers of red and yellow +stones like trees in autumn shedding their leaves, going to dust like beautiful +days to night, proclaiming as with the tongues of angels the natural beauty of +death. +</p> + +<p> +Every building is seen to be a remnant of once continuous beds of +sediments,—sand and slime on the floor of an ancient sea, and filled with +the remains of animals,—and every particle of the sandstones and +limestones of these wonderful structures to be derived from other landscapes, +weathered and rolled and ground in the storms and streams of other ages. And +when we examine the escarpments, hills, buttes, and other monumental masses of +the plateau on either side of the cañon, we discover that an amount of +material has been carried off in the general denudation of the region compared +with which even that carried away in the making of the Grand Cañon is as +nothing. Thus each wonder in sight becomes a window through which other wonders +come to view. In no other part of this continent are the wonders of geology, +the records of the world’s auld lang syne, more widely opened, or +displayed in higher piles. The whole cañon is a mine of fossils, in which five +thousand feet of horizontal strata are exposed in regular succession over more +than a thousand square miles of wall-space, and on the adjacent plateau region +there is another series of beds twice as thick, forming a grand geological +library—a collection of stone books covering thousands of miles of +shelving, tier on tier, conveniently arranged for the student. And with what +wonderful scriptures are their pages filled—myriad forms of successive +floras and faunas, lavishly illustrated with colored drawings, carrying us back +into the midst of the life of a past infinitely remote. And as we go on and on, +studying this old, old life in the light of the life beating warmly about us, +we enrich and lengthen our own. +</p> + +<p> +THE END +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap25"></a>Footnotes:</h2> + +<h3>[by the editor of the 1918 original of this text]:</h3> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-1" id="linknote-1"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> This essay was written early in +1875. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-2" id="linknote-2"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-2"><sup>[2]</sup></a> The wild sheep of California are +now classified as <i>Ovis nelsoni</i>. Whether those of the Shasta region +belonged to the latter species, or to the bighorn species of Oregon, Idaho, and +Washington, is still an unsettled question. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-3" id="linknote-3"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-3"><sup>[3]</sup></a> An excerpt from a letter to a +friend, written in 1873. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-4" id="linknote-4"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-4"><sup>[4]</sup></a> Muir at this time was making +Yosemite Valley his home. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-5" id="linknote-5"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-5"><sup>[5]</sup></a> An obsolete genus of plants now +replaced in the main by <i>Chrysothamnus</i> and <i>Ericameria</i>. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-6" id="linknote-6"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-6"><sup>[6]</sup></a> An early local name for what is now +known as Lassen Peak, or Mt. Lassen. In 1914 its volcanic activity was resumed +with spectacular eruptions of ashes, steam, and gas. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-7" id="linknote-7"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-7"><sup>[7]</sup></a> Pronounced Too’-lay. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-8" id="linknote-8"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-8"><sup>[8]</sup></a> Letter dated “Salt Lake City, +Utah, May 15, 1877.” +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-9" id="linknote-9"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-9"><sup>[9]</sup></a> Letter dated “Salt Lake City, +Utah, May 19, 1877.” +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-10" id="linknote-10"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-10"><sup>[10]</sup></a> Letter dated “Lake Point, +Utah, May 20, 1877.” +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-11" id="linknote-11"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-11"><sup>[11]</sup></a> Letter dated “Salt Lake, +July, 1877.” +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-12" id="linknote-12"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-12"><sup>[12]</sup></a> Letter dated “September 1, +1877.”] +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-13" id="linknote-13"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-13"><sup>[13]</sup></a> Letter written during the first +week of September, 1877. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-14" id="linknote-14"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-14"><sup>[14]</sup></a> The spruce, or hemlock, then +known as <i>Abies Douglasii</i> var. <i>macrocarpa</i> is now called +<i>Pseudotsuga macrocarpa</i>. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-15" id="linknote-15"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-15"><sup>[15]</sup></a> Written at Ward, Nevada, in +September, 1878. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-16" id="linknote-16"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-16"><sup>[16]</sup></a> See footnote 5. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-17" id="linknote-17"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-17"><sup>[17]</sup></a> Written at Eureka, +Nevada, in October, 1878. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-18" id="linknote-18"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-18"><sup>[18]</sup></a> Now called <i>Pinus +monophylla</i>, or one-leaf piñon. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-19" id="linknote-19"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-19"><sup>[19]</sup></a> Written at Pioche, Nevada, in +October, 1878. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-20" id="linknote-20"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-20"><sup>[20]</sup></a> Written at Eureka, Nevada, in +November, 1878. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-21" id="linknote-21"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-21"><sup>[21]</sup></a> Date and place of writing not +given. Published in the <i>San Francisco Evening Bulletin</i>, January 15, +1879. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-22" id="linknote-22"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-22"><sup>[22]</sup></a> November 11, 1889; Muir’s +description probably was written toward the end of the same year. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-23" id="linknote-23"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-23"><sup>[23]</sup></a> This tree, now known to botanists +as <i>Picea sitchensis</i>, was named <i>Abies Menziesii</i> by Lindley in +1833. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-24" id="linknote-24"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-24"><sup>[24]</sup></a> Also known as “canoe +cedar,” and described in Jepson’s <i>Silva of California</i> under +the more recent specific name <i>Thuja plicata</i>. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-25" id="linknote-25"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-25"><sup>[25]</sup></a> Now classified as <i>Tsuga +mertensiana</i> Sarg. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-26" id="linknote-26"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-26"><sup>[26]</sup></a> Now <i>Abies grandis</i> Lindley. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-27" id="linknote-27"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-27"><sup>[27]</sup></a> <i>Chamæcyparis lawsoniana</i> +Parl. (Port Orford cedar) in Jepson’s <i>Silva</i>. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-28" id="linknote-28"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-28"><sup>[28]</sup></a> 1889. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-29" id="linknote-29"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-29"><sup>[29]</sup></a> A careful re-determination of the +height of Rainier, made by Professor A. G. McAdie in 1905, gave an altitude of +14,394 feet. The Standard Dictionary wrongly describes it is “the highest +peak (14,363 feet) within the United States.” The United States Baedeker +and railroad literature overstate its altitude by more than a hundred feet. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-30" id="linknote-30"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-30"><sup>[30]</sup></a> Doubtless the red silver fir, now +classified as <i>Abies amabilis</i>. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-31" id="linknote-31"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-31"><sup>[31]</sup></a> Lassen Peak on recent maps. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-32" id="linknote-32"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-32"><sup>[32]</sup></a> <i>Pseudotsuga taxifolia</i> +Brit. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-33" id="linknote-33"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-33"><sup>[33]</sup></a> <i>Thuja plicata</i> Don. +</p> + +<p> +<a name="linknote-34" id="linknote-34"></a> +<a href="#linknoteref-34"><sup>[34]</sup></a> Muir wrote this description in +1902; Major J. W. Powell made his descent through the canyon, with small boats, +in 1869. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +Note from the transcriber: +</p> + +<p> +A phrase Muir uses that readers might doubt: “fountain range,” by +which he means a mountainous area where rain or snow fall that is the source of +water for a river or stream downslope. So it is not a typographical error for +“mountain range”! Another odd phrase is “(something) is well +worthy (something else)” rather than “well worth” or +“well worthy of.” He uses this at least twice in this +work.—jg +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STEEP TRAILS ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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