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 _San Francisco
Evening Bulletin_ 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 _Picturesque California, and the Region
West of the Rocky Mountains_, 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 _Overland
Monthly_ 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 _Overland Monthly_ without the
author’s knowledge. The concluding chapter on “The Grand Cañon of the
Colorado” was published in the _Century Magazine_ in 1902, and exhibits
Muir’s powers of description at their maturity.
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 _The Mountains of California_ and
_Our National Parks_. Being an important part of their present context,
these paragraphs could not be omitted without impairing the unity of
the author’s descriptions.
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.