Transcriber's Note: Captions have been added to some illustrations. The
spelling has been harmonized. Obvious printer errors have been repaired.
[Illustration: ALASKA-YUKON-PACIFIC EXPOSITION, SEATTLE.
Main Building, General View.]
[Illustration: JOHN EDWARD CHILBERG.
Vice President, The Scandinavian American Bank,
Seattle Washington.
President, Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition,
June 1st to October 16, 1909.]
TO MY SCANDINAVIAN FRIENDS, NOW RESIDENTS OF THE PUGET SOUND COUNTRY:
Ten years have now elapsed since the "Scandinavians on the Pacific" was
published, and inasmuch as I now have the opportunity of inserting a few
pages, outlining in brief some of the changes that are manifest since
the publication of the book, I deem it proper to do so.
"Scandinavians on the Pacific" was my first literary effort. Some of
the verses contained in the book were written in a hasty manner, hence
found it advisable to rewrite them, coining them into better and more
uniform metre, and later they appeared in my book of poems, "Echoes from
Dreamland," which may be found in the Seattle Public Library, in the
library of the University of Washington, and in the libraries of Eastern
universities and colleges.
The opportunity of outlining the interesting changes that have taken
place in that period, and being enabled to make the addition a part of
the original book, comes to me by the generous suggestion of Mr. F. P.
Searle, Manager of the Ballard Office of The Scandinavian American Bank,
Ballard Station, Seattle, Washington, as it is Mr. Searle's intention to
present the book to all of his Scandinavian customers and friends.
In the year 1899, while completing the history contained in the
original part of this book, I could not have conceived of the wonderful
changes that have been made throughout the whole Northwest, and more
particularly in the City of Seattle. During the time I was writing the
book, one of my very pleasant headquarters was The Scandinavian American
Bank, then located at the corner of First Avenue and Yesler Way, in the
building that is now occupied by the State Bank of Seattle, and it
is a source of a great deal of satisfaction to me, that with a few
exceptions, all the officers and employees of The Scandinavian American
Bank are still with the grand institution, which has developed from a
very modest bank of that date, into one of the largest and most
successful banking institutions in the State of Washington.
First in my mind is Mr. Andrew Chilberg, to whom I dedicated this book,
and mentioned at the time that he was President of the bank, and can
still make the statement that he occupies the same honored position;
also Mr. James F. Lane, Cashier, and quite a number of the old time
employees. Mr. A. H. Soelberg, however, is now connected with the State
Bank of Seattle, in the capacity of Vice President and Cashier.
It is not my intention to confine the additional pages wholly to The
Scandinavian American Bank; but the associations were so pleasant, that
it naturally comes to my mind in a very vivid way, and before I leave
the subject entirely, I wish to speak of John Edward Chilberg, who at
the time the book was published, was known only as being an energetic
business man, in common with a great many others then residing in
Seattle. He is now the Vice President of The Scandinavian American Bank,
and the most of his success has been to the benefit of Seattle, as it
was through his foresight and faith in the future development of this
city that he brought about the erection of the first sky scraper,
which is the Alaska Building, and the present home of the Scandinavian
American Bank, and it was through his energy that such a large
proportion of Alaska's resources were obtained for Seattle.
In looking at his picture, as one of the Chilberg family, representing
four generations, which is found on page 48, it would indeed be a shrewd
judge of appearances that could have foreseen the success that this man
has made for himself, and for Seattle.
Without going into details of the many enterprises that he was
identified with, which represent some of the finest improvements in
Seattle, I will close my autobiographical sketch of Mr. Chilberg, by
calling attention to the successful way that he managed the affairs of
the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition, as President of that successful
Fair, and all Scandinavians residing in this wonderful part of the
United States, can feel justifiably proud of the fact that it was a
descendant of their race who had so much to do with the wonderful
improvements that have been evidence in Seattle during the past ten
years, and it is indeed a pleasure for me to place his picture at this
day and date along with those of other prominent Scandinavians.
One of the most wonderful changes in Seattle is the gigantic regrade
work, which in a short time will so change the topography of the city,
that residents who left the city ten years ago, would on their return,
have hard work in locating old land marks. I understand that to take the
United States as a whole, this city is one of the best advertised cities
west of Chicago, and one cannot visit any other city without being made
aware that the majority of the people know all about Seattle. Of course
these reports must be of recent date, as the "Alaska-Yukon-Pacific
Exposition" was the real advertising factor, as it certainly was the
most grandly arranged, and most successful fair that it has ever been my
privilege to see.
As I look through this book, written so many years ago, I am made aware
of the old time citizens who have been called Home, yet feel that
all who have not had opportunity to read the early history of the
Scandinavians in this part of the country, will derive a great deal of
pleasure in being able to refresh their memories, and to those
Scandinavians who have recently settled in this part of the country, the
book will no doubt be the means of many re-unions of friendship formed
in other parts of the world.
In concluding this short sketch, permit me to add "Greetings from Puget
Sound," a poem which I wrote some months ago, and which was published on
a post card, and copyrighted by The Scenic Library Company.
THOS. OSTENSON STINE.
GREETINGS FROM PUGET SOUND.
Land and sea united greet us,
Greeting all in words sublime;
And with magic touches lift us,
On the sunny wings of time.
Over hills and laughing waters
Plumage songsters hang and soar;
From their hearts with gladness panting
Greetings ever shake and pour.
In the distance mellow cloudlets
Float around the old Rainier,
Mixing with his locks of silver
In the balmy atmosphere.
And we hear Snoqualmie yonder
Calling, calling, loud and free.
In a voice which shakes with welcome
He is calling to the sea.
From the mountain's snow-clad bosom
Brooklets winding seaward sing;
And the silver-braided wildwoods
Tingle with the joy of spring.
Breezes playing with the sea-nymphs
Kiss the wooded land with glee,
And the golden shore is warbling
With the music of the sea.
Morning steals serenely on us,
Melting in from east to west,
And the diamonds on the water,
Burning, leap from crest to crest.
When the sun departs in Westland
Firs and pines in silence weep;
Fold their flaming wings in slumber
To the music of the deep.
Mountains looking seaward charm us
On the shore of Puget Sound;
Cataracts with music fill us,
Breezes waft the fragrance round.
Hillocks green and valleys blooming
And the diamond-studded sea
Laugh and sing with salutation
In a strain of harmony.
Rivers, lakes and orchards laden
Mingle with the fields of gold,
And the fir and spruce and hemlock
In their verdure wealth unfold.
Mountains hold the treasure tempting,
And the valleys ever green
Teem with blooms of inspiration
By the sun-kissed shore serene.
--Thos. Ostenson Stine.
Copyright, 1909, by The Scenic Library Co.
PRESS OF
DENNY-CORYELL COMPANY
SEATTLE, WASH.
ERRATA.
Page 33, sixth line from bottom, should be _its briny breast_, not her
briny breast.
Page 46, third line from bottom, should be slaughter, not staughter.
Page 68, under the cut should be _Dr. Eiliv Janson_, not Eliiv.
Page 86, thirteenth line from top, should be _the 31st of May, 1889_,
not 1894.
Page 93, tenth line from top, should be _examen_, not examin.
Page 115, third line from top (in some of the copies), should be
_successful_, not sucsessful.
Page 132, second paragraph are too many commas.
Page 134, third line, second paragraph, should be _Solor_, not Sotor.
Page 196, under the cut (in a few copies) should be _Fairhaven_, not
Fairhavan.
Page 199, twelfth line (in a few copies) should be _reconnoitered_, not
reconnitered.
Page 208, second line from bottom, should be _legislature_, not
legislation.
SCANDINAVIANS ON THE PACIFIC,
PUGET SOUND.
BY
THOS. OSTENSON STINE, B. S.
P. O. Box 599, Seattle, Wash.
AN EVENING ON PUGET SOUND.
A vocal stretch of sapphire glow,
A sunset radiance of melted gold,
Where silvery ripples softly laugh,
Making music the whole night through.
In a livery of green thy banks proudly stand,
The weeping pine and mocking hemlock
Lay shadows on thy starry breast,
Where loving breezes play.
High in the clouds rear the snow-capped sentinels,
Listening to thy melancholy chimes,
At their feet smile the lilies,
And through the deep blue sail the sea-gulls.
Copyright, 1900.
[Illustration: ANDREW CHILBERG.]
TO
ANDREW CHILBERG,
Consul for Sweden and Norway and President of the Scandinavian American
Bank of Seattle,
As a Token of Respect for Your Friendship and Your Integrity of
Character,
I Dedicate this Volume.
THOS. O. STINE.
[Illustration: DR. IVAR JANSON.
An Eminent Surgeon of Seattle.]
PREFACE.
On solicitation of prominent Scandinavian-Americans, a year ago, I
undertook to write a volume or two, entitled, "Scandinavians on the
Pacific." At the launching of this idea an untold number rallied around
me with sweet tongues, but many who pretended to furnish historical data
fabricated delusive smiles of impertinent selfishness. Others, however,
have been frank in ushering kind assistance. The author is indebted to
the following gentlemen for willing advice and information: John Blaauw,
Editor of Tacoma Tidende, Tacoma; George Bech, Author of "Hæng Ham,"
etc., Seattle; Rev. T. J. Moen, Fairhaven, and N. P. Leque, Stanwood.
T. O. S.
[Illustration: WONDERFUL SCENE ON THE GREAT NORTHERN
IN CASCADE MOUNTAINS.]
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION.
CHAPTER I.
The Pacific Coast.
CHAPTER II.
The First Scandinavian Pioneers.
CHAPTER III.
Scandinavians in Seattle--Pioneers and Prominent
Citizens.
CHAPTER IV.
Scandinavians in Seattle--Societies--Press--Prominent
Citizens--Churches.
CHAPTER V.
Scandinavians in Ballard.
CHAPTER VI.
Scandinavians in Tacoma.
CHAPTER VII.
Scandinavians in Tacoma--Societies--Press--Prominent
Citizens--Churches.
CHAPTER VIII.
Scandinavians in Everett.
CHAPTER IX.
Scandinavians at Stanwood.
CHAPTER X.
Scandinavians in Stillaguamish Valley.
CHAPTER XI.
Scandinavians at Cedarhome.
CHAPTER XII.
Scandinavians in Skagit Valley.
CHAPTER XIII.
Scandinavians in Bellingham Bay.
CHAPTER XIV.
Scattered Scandinavian Communities--Poulsbo and
Other Places.
[Illustration: A SCENE IN THE NORTH PACIFIC.]
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Anderson, C. G. W. 76
Anderson, J. F. 184
Anderson, Graebert 94
Anderson, Oscar 78
A Group of Representative Ladies 12
Arntson, J. M. 120
A Scene of Pioneer Life 39
A Rustic Bridge 106
Another Scene of the Wenatchee 29
A Puget Sound Cedar 23
A Miner at His Cabin 32
A Musician on Skagit River 194
A Scene in the Washington Woods 31
A Scene in the Harbor of Seattle 51
A Scene in the North Pacific 10
An Island near Whatcom 25
Bank, Scandinavian American 53
Bennie, Jr., D. G. 153
Bech, George 92
Blaauw, John 129
Bull, Prof. Olof 110
Chilberg, Andrew, Frontispiece
Christensen, Lars and Wife 204
Crogstad, Andrew N. 186
Crogstad, Mrs. Wilhelmina A. 187
Coltom, M. O. 155
Church, N. D. Baptist 99
Church, N. D. Lutheran 95
Church, Swedish M. E. 96
Church, Swedish Baptist 98
Church, Stanwood, N. D. L. 144
Eggan, James 90
Engquist, Frank 104
Enger, T. T. 135
Elvrum, L. P. and Wife 137
Everett in Its Infancy 139
Fishing in Bellingham Bay 198
Foss, Louis 191
Hanson, L. G. and Wife 180
Hansen, Hans 84
Hals, John I. 164
Hals' Shingle Mill 163
Hevly, E. A. 161
Hallberg, P. A. 80
Janson, Dr. Eiliv 68
Janson, Dr. Ivar, Frontispiece
Johnson, Iver 159
Johnson, Rev. John 97
Johnson, John 102
Knudson, Knud 149
Knatvold, H. E. 112
Langland, S. S. 72
Leque, N. P. 141
Logging Family Standing on a Cedar Stump 167
Lindberg, Gustaf 122
Lundberg, A. 74
Mining Scenes 34
Moldstad, N. J. 193
Mt. Baker 196
Mt. Rainier 108
Mt. Index 21
Morling House 182
Nelson, N. B. 63
Nicklason, G. 175
Nogleberg, John 82
Nogleberg's Studio 81
Orphans' Home 207
Ox Logging 133
Pacific Lutheran University 132
Prestlien Bluff 166
Pioneers Among Wild Beasts 169
Quevli, Dr. C. 114
Ranch, Jorgen Eliason's 202
Residence of Olaf Rydjord 151
Residence of N. M. Lien 150
Rosling, Eric Edw. 118
Rynning, Dr. J. L. 116
Rude, H. P. and Family 59
Rialto Block 64
Stanwood L. M. Sangkor 145
Stanwood Creamery 152
Samson, S. 124
Sandahl, C. N. 70
Sandegren, T. 131
Steamer Advance 206
Soelberg, Axel H. 66
Skagit River 18
Snoqualmie Fall 27
The Cedarhome School 172
The Norman School 165
Thompson, S. A. 147
The Baltic Lodge 85
The 17th of May Committee 88
The Chilberg Family 48
The Wild Wenatchee 28
The University of Washington 36
Walters, Carl O. 178
Western Washington Native Snowshoe Hare 181
Wonderful Scene on the G. N. 8
[Illustration: A GROUP OF REPRESENTATIVE LADIES.
Miss Anna Myhre--Seattle
Miss Minnie Anderson--Fir
Miss Lottie Stromberd--Seattle
Miss Bertha Korstad--Silverdale
Miss Augusta Stromberd--Seattle
Miss Emma Sandstrom--Seattle
Miss Martha Anderson & Miss Henrietta Klackstead--Seattle
Miss Petra & Emma Halverson--Tacoma]
INTRODUCTION.
Viking brave on land or sea,
Dauntless hero of liberty,
While ages hang on bearded clay,
Among the great thy name shall sway.
Chroniclers shall paint thee in shades resplendent,
Thy fame as the pine shall sway independent,
Nations shall rise from lethargy old
To tune the feats of the Norsemen bold.
Suns of the South reflect thy rays,
They breathe thy prowess on wild-flying sprays,
But their light shall wane with ages to come,
The stars of the future shall pale proud Rome.
The foam-crest brine thy daring spells,
Thy wings have climbed impetuous swells,
In tempests wild o'er main afar,
Thy only guide the burning star.
Iceland and Greenland hast thou found,
With valor to thy honor crowned,
The Faroes in the salty deep,
And others that in the ocean sleep.
Thy scepter has on Sicily swayed,
Thy brawny arms with Albion played,
And Normandy to thy venture shines,
With royal courts and eglantines.
Beyond the sea maid's unkempt hair,
Lay forests rich and jewels rare,
Undreamt by kings of fame and power,
"For the shore," shouts Leif,
"spite storm and shower."
_Vinland_ for the Norseman brave,
The honor he to his country gave,
Born with thee, an unknown strand,
America, sweet freedom's land.
_From "An Ode to the Land of the Vikings."_--_Stine._
The author does not aim to lift the Scandinavians into an air of
ungained merit, he does not aim to clothe them with undeserved encomium,
but seeks to paint their dues in a straightforward way, thoughtless of
sailing the sea of hyperbole, or entering any strait of unearned
exploit.
In order, however, to give the reader a clear conception of the spirit,
the intrepidity, the characteristic worth of the northern peoples, my
pen cannot refrain from plowing into the annals of the past. History is
plain and authentic on the subject, and the same chivalric blood ebbs
through the veins of the Vikings today as of yore. They have shared and
do share the burdens of adventure, discovery and colonzation. They have
nurtured their sons and daughters with patriotic zeal, and unfurled to
their love the folds of freedom. They have braved the foam-crest waves
minus compass and sympathy--stars of night and sun of day guided them
over the traceless billows. Their dauntless sails have wafted in sun and
storm from shore to shore and woven together distant climes.
From the dawn of navigation and soldiery the Scandinavians have evinced
skill and dexterity, filled with a whim to roam, see and conquer. They
were, perhaps, sometimes rough in their daring expeditions, but always
actuated with a will to plant the scepter of liberty and to raise the
standard of civilization.
In 860 the valorous Naddodd discovered Iceland, and fourteen years later
a republic form of government was established, which flourished four
centuries. In 984 Erik The Red discovered Greenland, and in the name of
his native country, Norway, took possession of the frozen territory, and
unfolded to the breeze the banner of liberty.
"To the West! To the West!" thought Leif Erikson, son of Erik The Red,
"spite waves and breakers," and in the year 1000 pointed the bow of
his bark for the shore of America, landed at Helluland, now known as
Newfoundland. He reconnoitered the coast as far south as Massachusetts,
and christened the New World, _Vinland_.
Not here do the Vikings stop. In 1002 Thorwald Erikson set sail
for Vinland, spent three years exploring the green-clad banks of
New England with zealous desire to unveil to his countrymen the
characteristic features of the new possession. In a collision with the
Skrællings (Indians) his precious life was blown out, the first European
to succumb to the arrows of the red race.
Not here do their voyages for the New World cease. The sagas plainly
picture their pilgrimages across the howling waste for Vinland in 1005,
1007, 1011, 1121, 1347.
True, the Scandinavians have been heroes on sea, but no less so on
land. King Gustavus Adolphus, of Sweden, poured his life blood on the
battlefield of Lutzen, not for military glory, but to liberate millions
of innocent souls from the fire of tyranny, the poisonous hands of the
chief of superstition, the narrow-minded Philip II., of Spain. He was
not only a military genius but the father of his people, a benefactor of
humanity.
In 1638 a company of Swedes colonized in the New World, who made the
hills and forests of Delaware ring with the music of their picks and
axes. As years rolled by emigration started from Sweden, Norway and
Denmark. The wilderness of America was their object, the building of
homes their love. They braved the interior, fought the lion and the
bear, conquered the frowning forests and subdued the spreading prairies.
First huts of logs and sods, then quaint dwellings rose to mark their
energy. Fields and gardens smiled, school-houses reared the air, and
happy lads and lasses pranced their way to school to drink freely from
the fountain of knowledge. Home, sweet home echoed from rocks and trees.
The frontier was their chance, and thither they steered their lots. They
knew how to swing the axe and use the hoe, climb mountains and make
themselves contented in the most hazardous exposure.
What to them the soft pillow? when a stone was near at hand. They slept
under the blue sky and drank health from the floating clouds. A home for
my son and daughter, or my sweetheart, gave them fresh courage. Not
only a home, but a pleasant home in a congenial clime, where the heaven
smiles serenely, where the rose-bud bursts and thrives the year round.
Thunder and cyclones had shaken their tranquility. More peaceful air,
tired of the friction and disagreement in the upper regions, and fire
that seems eager to eat the whole firmament. Away from the boisterous
thunderbolts which make it a business to blast and burn every cloud. "To
the West! Sweet Westland!" rolled in their souls, where the air is pure,
where the birds sing, where the scenery is grand.
To the West! Sweet Westland! where freedom reigns,
Where forests clothe the untrod plains,
And flowers and fragrance blow
Beneath peaks of crystal snow.
Sweet Westland! broad and free,
How I love to dwell in thee!
Where jeweled brows look o'er the lea,
And rhyming streams leap down to the sea,
Where man is himself and courts no king,
And axes swords, and bloodless swing.
Sweet Westland! broad and free,
How I love to dwell in thee!
To the West! Sweet Westland by the sea,
Where music swells the wooded lea,
Where work is plenty and wealth to gain
In clearing land and planting grain.
Sweet Westland! broad and free,
How I love to dwell in thee!
THE AUTHOR.
[Illustration: SKAGIT RIVER NEAR SEDRO-WOOLLEY.]
THE PACIFIC COAST.
CHAPTER I.
High and noble stands the Rocky, looking downward, where jeweled brows
hang, where silvery waves make music on the deep, or the sea maid shakes
her streaming locks. As early as 1513 the brave Balboa hurled his
exploring eyes over the watery waste and in the name of Spain declared
the discovery of the mighty ocean. But, alas! the valorous Spaniard
received only scoff and scorn for his adventure and hardship, and at
last the cold world saw fit to lead him to the judgment block for the
unknown depth beyond.
A later date, in 1592, Juan de Fuca, a Greek pilot, in the service of
Spain, discovered the beautiful strait which bears his name, the gateway
to the picturesque Puget Sound. In 1789 Captain Kendrick, an American
explorer, was reconnoitering along the Pacific coast, entered the Strait
of Fuca, steered his boat into the Strait of Georgia and Queen Charlotte
Sound, and depicted the characteristic features of the land-locked
waters. In 1804 the United States government sent the Lewis and Clark
expedition across the Rocky to ascertain more minutely as to the climate
and the feasibility for settlement.
When the country was explored, and a sprinkling of pioneers had spread
themselves in the most favorable localities, tidings of the complication
between our government and Great Britain reached them. War clouds were
hanging in the air prognostic of determining the ownership of their
terra firma. An amicable settlement, however, was brought about and the
present boundary between Washington and British Columbia was fixed.
A petition was sent to Congress praying for closer relationship in the
Union, and in 1853 the Territory of Oregon was organized. The flux of
immigration fast settled the attractive sylva on the Sound and the
rolling prairies east of the Cascades. The Territory being too large,
and the country north of Columbia was sliced off and made to struggle
for itself. The promoters of the scheme were vigilant and got things to
move their own way, and after all, they didn't do anything worse than to
give this vigorating child of Uncle Sam the ever-cherished appellation
_Washington_.
MY WASHINGTON.
Beautiful Evergreen, home of the free,
Sunshine of my fancy thee,
Where fragrance swells the breeze,
And freedom rings from rocks and trees.
My Washington, sweet gem of the sea,
Land of the future, and home of the free.
I love thy peaks in twilight hue,
In silver rays rear to my view,
I love thy brooks, thy laughing fjord,
Thy waving fields in grain of gold.
My Washington, sweet gem of the sea,
Land of the future, and home of the free.
I love thee, my land, I'll serve thee true,
I'll look for thy wants, I'll be with you,
Through sun and storm my heart is thine,
Sweet hills of fir and vine.
My Washington, sweet gem of the sea,
Land of the future, and home of the free.
We've plenty of soil, silver and gold,
Aye, fields and forests of wealth untold,
Only our hearts for thee could rise,
Of thee I sing, my paradise.
My Washington, sweet gem of the sea,
Land of the future, and home of the free.
[Illustration: MOUNT INDEX--ON THE GREAT NORTHERN LINE, WASHINGTON.]
The scenery of Washington is grand and inviting. The Cascade runs
through the bosom of the state, cutting her in twain, and throws his
rugged spurs into Oregon and California. The majestic Rainier rears
through the clouds to a height of 14,444 feet, wearing a hood of
perpetual snow, which changes to a verdant fringe as it runs downward,
clothing his feet with evergreen. Mount Adams has pushed his head upward
12,902 feet, and Baker has reached an elevation of 10,814, while St.
Helen stopped 9750 feet above sea level.
To the westward is a less conspicuous attraction, the Coast Range, which
skirts the ocean and varies in height from 3000 to 4000 feet. Between
these mountain ranges sweeps a fertile basin, carpeted with an
unparalleled forest, fir, cedar, spruce and hemlock rise skyward to a
skeptical giddiness. Some stretch their forms 300 feet into the air.
Logs are piled upon one another, sleeping like angry mammoths at the
feet of gigantic trees. The more tender offsprings shoot up between
these lazy monsters, and some take delight to grow on their decaying
frames.
Into the fleecy clouds the noble firs stand,
Their austere forms spread shadows on the strand,
And music floats on high,
From silvery waves to the sky.
Where tender shoots in gladness smile
On moss-bearded logs in pile;
Abreast with flowers they grow and sway
In sisterhood from day to day.
[Illustration: A PUGET SOUND CEDAR.]
The fjords of Norway are sublime, and Puget Sound is equally so. What
can be more soul-stirring and soul-inspiring than a merry sheet of water
rippling for hundreds of miles into a land of verdure, making sweet
music day and night? What can be more angelic and soothing to the soul
than the songs of the waves? Where can you find more poesy than in the
pearl-set crests rolling like melted gold upon gilded pebbles? A
clittering, clattering steal through the air, even in the calm of night
dulcet strains come to cheer the ear. A soft whisper seems to spring
from every flower. The forest is alive with melodies, hills and
mountains echo back the harps of the deep.
[Illustration: AN ISLAND NEAR WHATCOM.]
Sing loud ye waves of dancing pearls,
Leap frisk ye winds from heaven's throat,
For the jeweled strand,
Melodious land.
Laugh ye fir, spruce and hemlock,
Play ye breezes with their wings,
In freedom's air,
In sun so fair.
Smile ye flowers in gladness free,
I kiss your lips and love you true,
Sweet daisies mellow,
In coats of yellow.
Burst ye rose-buds to a fresh-born day,
And drink from heaven's eye serene,
Sweet beams of rainbow tint,
Emblems of God, I weep and wait.
Lift high your heads ye stately hills,
Scatter smiles where music floats,
By the opal sea,
The land of the free.
[Illustration: SNOQUALMIE FALL.
By courtesy of the Great Northern.]
Rivers and falls are no less sublime than the Sound, and compare in
grandeur with the famous streams and cataracts of Switzerland and
Scandinavia. The Columbia ranks with the most picturesque rivers in the
world, being of great value to commerce, fleets of steamers ride on its
bosom day and night with merchandise from foreign climes, and grain,
fruit and other produce raised west of the Rocky. Snoqualmie, Snohomish,
Skagit and others are also navigable and invite the attention of
wonder-seekers.
[Illustration: THE WILD WENATCHEE AND THE GREAT NORTHERN
IN TUMWATER CANYON.]
Snoqualmie fall is one of nature's masterpieces, and bespeaks grandeur
and sublimity. The water shoots into the air, tumbles down a royal
precipice, whirls, foams and splashes, fills heaven with thunder and the
soul with awe and admiration. The Tumwater fall is likewise grand and
awe-inspiring, stunning in music and bewitching in scenery.
[Illustration: ANOTHER SCENE OF THE WENATCHEE AND THE GREAT NORTHERN
IN TUMWATER CANYON.]
Storms seldom visit the Pacific, and thunder rarely finds a rich medium
in the balmy clouds. But, terror! when a storm is propagated on yonder
deep, and sets the ocean boiling and shivering up shallow bays, and
springs into the forest like an unchained demon, then the whole heaven
shakes and trembles. Firs and cedars tumble like dead giants, knocking
each other to the ground in the fashion of heartless heathens. Blasts
upon blasts swell through the air and roll along the mountain ridges not
dissimilar to Jove's chariot.
Ay, you speak of awe and fright when a prairie fire gets sway on the
Central Plain, but when the guest of good and evil gains access to
the Washington forest in the month of August or September a hell is
witnessed similar to that painted by ranting trumpeters. Flames rise
skyward and with the aid of winds set the trees flaring and howling as
in the clutches of a thousand devils.
The fertility of the Pacific forest is something incredulous, the
quantity and quality of lumber produced are astounding to all not
familiar with this country. Even a conservative estimate would make many
curious speculators drunk with figures.
In the State of Washington forests spread over thirteen million acres of
land. West of the Cascades is a stretch of ten million, clothing hills
and dells from Canada to Columbia river with valuable fir, cedar,
spruce, pine, hemlock and tamarack, while on the east side three million
acres of forest land are scattered along the rivers and mountain slopes.
Saw mills and shingle factories are being kept busy the year round. More
than one billion feet of lumber are turned out annually and shipped to
all parts of the globe. The shingle industry is something phenomenal.
Factories are whistling and piping everywhere throughout the cedar
districts, and thousands of men find lucrative employments.
[Illustration: A SCENE IN THE WASHINGTON WOODS.]
Mining is an important pursuit, rugged brows smile with independent
richness. Moss-bearded ledges of the precious metal run into the heart
of the Cascades. The Index districts teem with mineral wealth, and Lake
Chelan shines with doubtless yields. Iron ore rests in the bosom of the
Sound country from the green feet of old Rainier to the dashing waves of
the Pacific. As you cross the divide for Eastern Washington, you
find paying veins running in different directions. Coal is a natural
consequence, which in no manner puzzles the minds of geologists. From
days of yore luxuriant vegetation has robed plains and valleys to
impenetrable density. The death of rich forests has built beds of
astonishing thickness, and the formation of coal has resulted to a
marked degree.
[Illustration: A MINER AT HIS CABIN.]
Agriculture and horticulture invite attention. The rolling prairies
between the Rocky and the Cascades are especially adapted for the
raising of cereals. Wheat yields from 50 to 75 bushels per acre, oats
from 100 to 125, rye from 60 to 80. Irrigation has been practiced with
wonderful success around Wenatchee. The feasibility of applying nature
itself is remarkable. Here and there meander silvery streams of clear
water, which are made to spread over fertile tracts of land at any time,
and to any part wanted. No longing for showers to quench and sweeten the
thirsty soil bothers the farmer in this section. Irrigation is so easily
practiced, and the crops thus raised are so enormous, may it be grain
or fruit, that the eastern agriculturist cannot conceive our natural
advantages. Why linger on the hungry prairies of the east, freezing your
lives out, when opportunities like these are extended to you? Here you
can get a pleasant home, for a small trifle, where the air is mild and
soothing, where the soil is rich and easily cultivated.
The Sound country is equally productive. Ay, inexhaustible. The
Washington fruit is known the world over for quality and quantity.
Magnificent orchards adorn every farm, and the smaller ranches, too,
enjoy the presence of wealthy apple, pear and plum trees.
When you throw your eye upon Puget Sound, and behold the fleet of fish
barges, rolling upon her briny breast, a reminiscence of the coast of
Norway steals into your soul. Cohorts of men, mostly Scandinavians,
resort to the waves for subsistence. Herring and salmon throng the water
in rich abundance. Shoals of the latter race along the shores, fighting
their way up streams to spawn. Some become savory prey for bears,
cougars and wolves, others die a respectable death, or return to their
natural abode--the ocean. The halibut plays master among the smaller
species, and grows fat at their diminution. He cares nothing for streams
or shallow bays, but gambols friskily amidst the salty billows.
[Illustration: MINING SCENES ON THE GREAT NORTHERN,
NEAR INDEX, WASHINGTON.]
All the gold and silver in the bowels of the earth, and all the
glittering nuggets shining on her bosom did not ruffle the serenity, or
affect the wonted vagrancy of the Indians. To them the forest was a
nuisance and the saw mill a scarecrow. The singing brook was worthless
and the rolling river valueless, save as mothers of trout. They had no
love for higher aspiration, no instinct for advancement, no aim to
better their condition, no foresight to provide against the pitiless
influence of cold or heat, no sagacity, no frugality, no thought of
tomorrow, no pile of subsistence for a rainy day or helpless age,
troubled their minds. Life was to them a ceaseless dream of nothingness.
Superstition was their god and pride, reason a casual stranger which
rooted not in their souls.
What has changed this sad drudgery of the Indians to a social
commonwealth? What has spurned the fiend of superstition to a shameful
death? What has invited reason and common sense to dwell peacefully
in our hearts? What has lifted the world from the thorny plane of
priesthood? What has wrested from the priestly hand the scepter of
government? Our forefathers knew it and provided for its development.
The pioneers of Washington had tested it, and prescribed it for
the coming generations. The log schoolhouse rose to their sweet
recollection of childhood days, then a frame building, then a brick
edifice. High schools were established, a state university was erected,
normal schools were founded, an agricultural college and school of
science was built.
[Illustration: THE UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON.]
THE FIRST SCANDINAVIAN PIONEERS.