GRAND CAÑON; THE CARNIVAL OF THE GODS
"_What time the gods kept carnival!_"
EMERSON
"_The earth grew bold with longing
And called the high gods down;
Yea, though ye dwell in heaven and hell,
I challenge their renown.
Abodes as fair I build ye
As heaven's rich courts of pearl,
And chasms dire where flood like fire
Ravage and roar and whirl._
"_Come, for my soul is weary
Of time and death and change;
Eternity doth summon me--
With mightier worlds I range.
Come, for my vision's glory
Awaits your songs and wings;
Here on my breast I bid ye rest
From starry wanderings._"
HARRIET MONROE
One takes the wings of the morning and arrives at the uttermost parts
of the earth to find--the Grand Cañon, the scenic marvel of the entire
world.
Only to the poet's vision is the Grand Cañon revealed; only to the
poet's touch do its mighty harmonies respond. For this sublime
spectacle is as vital as a drama enacted on the stage, only its acts
require the centuries and the ages in which to represent themselves.
Whatever one sees of the Grand Cañon,--it matters not from what
commanding view of vision or vista, one sees only an infinitesimal
point. It is the Carnival of the Gods. "Prophets and poets had wandered
here," writes Harriet Monroe, "before they were born to tell their
mighty tales,--Isaiah and Æschylus and Dante, the giants who dared
the utmost. Here at last the souls of great architects must find
their dreams fulfilled; must recognize the primal inspiration which,
after long ages, had achieved Assyrian palaces, the temples and
pyramids of Egypt, the fortresses and towered cathedrals of mediæval
Europe. For the inscrutable Prince of builders had reared these
imperishable monuments, evenly terraced upward from the remote abyss;
had so cunningly planned them that mortal foot could never climb and
enter to disturb the everlasting hush. Of all richest elements they
were fashioned,--jasper and chalcedony, topaz, beryl, and amethyst,
fire-hearted opal, and pearl; for they caught and held the most
delicate colors of a dream and flashed full recognition to the sun.
Never on earth could such glory be unveiled,--not on level spaces of
sea, not on the cold bare peaks of mountains. This was not earth; for
was not heaven itself across there, rising above yonder alabaster marge
in opalescent ranks for the principalities and powers?... In a moment
we stood at the end of the world, at the brink of the kingdoms of peace
and pain. The gorgeous purples of sunset fell into darkness and rose
into light over mansions colossal beyond the needs of our puny unwinged
race. Terrific abysses yawned and darkened; magical heights glowed with
iridescent fire."
If one pauses for a moment with any sense of obligation to himself
to gain some _rationale_ of this cañon; if for a moment he turn from
rhapsody and ecstasy and the dream of poet and painter to grope after
statistical estimates, what does he find? One comparison is that,--
"If the Eiffel Tower, which with a height of almost a thousand feet
is the tallest structure in the world, were placed at the bottom of
the cañon in its deepest part, five more towers just like the first
would have to be piled on top of one another to reach the rim of
the plateau."
And again:
"Could the cañon be filled in for a building site, it would furnish
room enough for fifty New York cities. Indeed, it would have an
area of sixteen thousand square miles, equal to the whole of
Switzerland, or the states of Massachusetts, Connecticut, Delaware,
and Rhode Island combined."
Statistical comparisons are, at best, a necessary evil which, once
confronted, need not companion one further. It is beauty, it is
sublimity, not mathematical assurances, that really lays hold on life.
The inexplicable impressions made by this spectacle are mirrored in
the following words:--
"As I grew familiar with the vision I could not quite explain its
stupendous quality. From mountain tops one looks across greater
distances and sees range after range lifting snowy peaks into the
blue. The ocean reaches out into boundless space, and the ebb
and flow of its waters have the beauty of rhythmic motion and
exquisitely varied color. And in the rush of mighty cataracts
are power and splendor and majestic peace. Yet for grandeur
appalling and unearthly; for ineffable, impossible beauty, the
cañon transcends all these. It is as though to the glory of nature
were added the glory of art; as though, to achieve her utmost, the
proud young world had commanded architecture to build for her and
color to grace the building. The irregular masses of mountains,
cast up out of the molten earth in some primeval war of elements,
bear no relation to these prodigious symmetrical edifices mounted
on abysmal terraces and grouped into spacious harmonies which give
form to one's dreams of heaven. The sweetness of green does not
last forever, but these mightily varied purples are eternal. All
that grows and moves must perish, while these silent immensities
endure."
The majestic panorama dominates every detail of daily life. As when in
Bayreuth for the Wagner music-dramas alone, every other consideration
is subordinated to these, so in life in El Tovar, on Bright Angel
Trail, one's hours for sleep and for any daily occupations are
held strictly amenable to "effects" in the mysterious splendor of
the Titanic underworld. To see the cañon under the full moon; to
see it when all the pinnacles of rock are leaping in rose-red flame
under a sunrise; to see it in a dream of twilight as the purple
canopy falls,--all these hours,--all hours are made for the magical
transformations. With every breath of change of the atmosphere this
celestial beauty changes. One is hardly conscious as to the special
ways and means by which he finds himself in an enchanted world,--
"From the shore of souls arrived?"
It is very possible. Nor does he know how--or when--he shall depart.
The past is effaced, and the future recedes into some unformulated
atmosphere. Life, a thousand lifetimes, concentrate themselves in the
present. A supreme experience has always this peculiarity,--that it
bars out all the past and all the future. When one is on the Mount of
Transfiguration, he is not scrutinizing the pathway by which he came
nor that by which he may descend.
Even if one has seen the Grand Cañon before, he is surprised to find
how absolutely newly created it is to him when its haunting magic
draws him back. No enshrined memory can compare with the reality. In
seeing the Petrified Forest one checks it off as a thing accomplished
for life. It is definite. The great logs of agate and jasper and
chalcedony lie on the ground as they have lain for perhaps thousands of
ages. It is a wonder--the seventh wonder of the world, if one pleases
and--the paradise of geologists, but it is unchanging. Not so the
Grand Cañon. The cañon is a perpetual transformation scene. Its color
effects rival those of an electric fountain under the full play of the
spectroscope. It is rose, purple, amber, emerald, pearl gray, pale
blue, scarlet--according to atmospheric states. One leaves it in the
late afternoon with the rocky towers and pinnacles and battlements all
in glowing scarlet, seen through a transparent air. He steps out upon
the broad hotel piazzas an hour later and, behold, the uncalculated
spaces of the cañon are filled with a half-transparent blue mist which
envelops all the curious sandstone formations that gleam in pale rose
and opal tints through this thin blue mist, and assume wraith-like
shapes. Major Powell well said, that really to see the Grand Cañon, a
year is necessary. Yet just as truly may it be said that even for two
days it is worth crossing the continent to enjoy this most marvellous
of spectacles. Only the scientist and the specialist dream of seeing it
in anything like completeness. For the tourist and traveller a range of
twenty miles is quite sufficient to disclose its representative beauty.
A day's drive by the stage to Grandview Point, Hance's Trail, and
Moran's Point is easily made between nine and five o'clock. A drive
of two or three miles in the opposite direction will include Rowe's
and O'Neil's points. One day will allow the adventurous tourist to "go
down the trail." Still, after doing all these things, the best of all,
it may be, is to live into the atmosphere. To draw one's chair out on
the broad balcony of the new and beautiful hotel, El Tovar, and sit and
dream and gaze and wonder, and wonder and gaze and dream, is, perhaps,
the greatest joy one can have in all the time passed here, especially
if the solitude can be the solitude _à deux_. No joy, no interest, is
of much consequence until or unless it is sympathetically shared. As a
_décor de scène_ the Grand Cañon is unrivalled. The magic and mystery
of all the universe broods over its Titanic spaces.
[Illustration: GRAND CAÑON, FROM GRAND VIEW POINT]
The air is the most bracing, exhilarating, and exquisite imaginable.
The great rolling mesas covered with pine forests are more than
seven thousand feet above the sea, and their exhilarating and tonic
properties are beyond description. The entire atmosphere is fragrant
with the pines. Throat and chest are bathed in balm and healing. There
can hardly be any difficulty with the bronchial and breathing mechanism
that cannot find its cure here. And the charm, the utter enchantment of
living on this rainbow-tinted cañon, a mile and a half deep, thirteen
miles across at this "Bright Angel" point (and this is its narrowest
place), the joy of life is to steep one's self in the atmosphere
of enchanting loveliness; and this perpetual play of color is an
experience that finds no interpretation in language.
On first alighting from the branch of the Santa Fé that runs from
Williams, Arizona, to Bright Angel, at the head of Bright Angel Trail
on the Grand Cañon,--a three hour's ride of transcendent beauty among
the purple peaks of the San Francisco mountains,--on first stepping
from the train up the terrace to the beautiful "El Tovar" built on the
very rim of the cañon, one objects strenuously to entering the hotel.
His eye has caught the Vision,--a "celestial Inferno bathed in soft
fires?" or the "Promised Land?" or the mystical vision that John saw
on the Island of Patmos? The hotel would, presumably, remain; but this
spectacle,--what can it be save a mirage, one never seen before on
earth and perhaps not to be too confidently anticipated in Paradise?
Would such a picture remain? Can one safely leave a sunset which is all
a miracle of splendor while he goes in to dine? Can he safely turn away
from the heavens when a young moon at night is winging her way down the
sky and expect to find her midway in the heavens? And could one safely
leave this most marvellous scene of all while he should bestow himself
in his rooms?
"Would the Vision there remain?
Would the Vision come again?"
Could it be, in the very nature of things, any more permanent than any
other momentary revelation of an enchanted hour that would fade
into the darkness as night came on, like the splendor of a sunset, the
color-scheme of a rainbow, or the glory and the freshness of a dream?
[Illustration: ZIGZAG, BRIGHT ANGEL TRAIL, GRAND CAÑON, ARIZONA]
Instead, the Grand Cañon prefigures itself to one as an apparition,
and while he may gaze upon it under all changing lights of dawn, of
noonday, of sunset--and of moonlight--he cannot come to any realization
that it is there all the time. His room in the hotel may look out into
it and over it; and, waking in the night, he rises and leans out of his
window to see if it is still there. One does not expect a vision of
the New Jerusalem, a palpitating, changing, flaming, throbbing sea of
color--in its rose-reds, its greens, its amber, gold, and purple--to
remain like a field or a forest. It seems a thing of conditions,
visible at one moment, vanished, perchance, the next.
Think of a chasm a mile and a half deep, from thirteen to eighteen
miles wide, and as long as from Boston to New York--two hundred miles!
Think of it again as not merely a deep, dark chasm, but as filled with
the most wonderful architectural effects in the sandstone formations
which simulate Chinese pagodas, temples, altars, cathedrals, domes,
and towers so perfectly that one is incredulous of the fact that their
shaping is nature's work alone. Add to this the color scheme, now an
intense royal purple, again flashes of rose and green and ivory and
a rare blue; or again a "nocturne" in silvery gray, with hints of
lingering rose and amber shimmering in the air. Until within a few
years the Grand Cañon was so inaccessible as to quite account for
the general ignorance of this most wonderful scenic phenomenon in
our country, and, indeed, with no exaggeration be it said, the most
wonderful in the entire world. Twenty Yosemites might be thrown into
it and make no impression; and as for Niagara, it would be a mere tiny
waterfall in comparison.
In the trail leading downward into the cañon the first level is just
five times the height of St. Peter's in Rome, or the Pyramids of Cheops.
[Illustration: A CLIFF ON BRIGHT ANGEL TRAIL, GRAND CAÑON]
From the brink one looks down a mile and a half into towers and
pinnacles; one looks across eighteen miles in the widest place;
and one looks up and down its tortuous length, as its complicated
system of cañons revealed themselves as far as the eye could see
either way. One gazes, not into a deep, dark cleft, a Titanic royal
gorge, but on and into a sea of color and a wealth of architectural
wonders,--cathedrals, towers, mosques, pinnacles, minarets, temples,
and balconies exceeding in variety of design, in extraordinary beauty
of grouping and splendor of color, anything of which one could dream,
even in his most enchanted moments. The red sandstone, the brilliant
white of the limestone luminous under the setting sun, the green of
pine trees or of copper rocks, the gray and ochre tints of gravel and
fallen rocks and débris, the soft, deep purple mist enveloping all
as an atmosphere in which all these architectural marvels seemed to
swim--the strange, unearthly splendor of it all--holds one under a
fascination that can neither be analyzed nor described. This, then, is
"El Grande Cañon de la Colorado." One stands speechless, breathless,
as if transported to some other planet. Suddenly all life--everything
that floated in memory--seemed confused, unreal. Was the past (whose
running series of incident and event and circumstance already seemed
vague) a dream, and was this the reality? Or had there never been any
reality in life before? Was this a dream, wrought under some untold
spell of enchantment? Would one hear the water nixies chanting their
refrain if he listened? Or was this scene of Titanic grandeur the abode
of Wagner's gods and heroes? One watched for the sacred fires to flame
on Brunhilde's rock and for Siegfried to appear. One saw the ship which
had borne Tristan on his ill-starred voyage, and the garden where the
lovers confessed their intense and instant love, and the fatal potion
scene rises before him; and again he is lost in rapt ecstasy as the air
seems filled with the passionate drama of Lilli Lehmann and Alvarez.
For let Ternina and other younger women come and go in the Wagner
music-drama, and yet where will that absolute perfection of dramatic
action, that passionate exaltation of emotion, ever again attend and
invest any singer as they invest and are identified with Lilli Lehmann?
"The Fairest enchants me,
The Mighty commands me."
In this most sublime of all earthly spectacles there are aërial
landscape effects as delicate and evanescent as a cloud-wreath, or as
a fog that advances, wraith-like, to melt away into dissolving views.
"The region is full of wonders and beauties and sublimities that
Shelley's imaginings do not match in the 'Prometheous Unbound,'" wrote
Charles Dudley Warner.
If the world realized the marvellous effects of this very Carnival
of the Gods, the infinite spaces of the Grand Cañon itself could not
contain all who would eagerly throng to behold it. The statistical
record of the increase of visitors is rather interesting. In 1900 there
were eight hundred and thirteen; the succeeding year, six thousand
eight hundred and eighty-three; while in 1903 the number increased
to nearly one hundred and twenty-eight thousand. Since that date the
number of visitors has multiplied itself after the fashion of compound
interest. The establishment of all the conveniences and comforts, not
to say luxuries, of modern travel may be one of the most potent factors
in this increase of visitors. Until within five years the Grand Cañon
could only be reached by a stage ride of seventy miles through the
Coconino Forest,--whose dim gray twilight reminds one of the forests
of Fontainebleau,--and which drive, however romantically beautiful,
was attended with too great terrestrial discomfort to commend it to
general public service. Until 1906 the hotel accommodations, also,
while offering a modest comfort, were essentially primitive; while
now the superb new Harvey hostelry, "El Tovar," built at a cost of a
quarter of a million dollars (and the Harvey name is a synonym in the
West for everything admirable in dining cars, refreshment stands, and
hotels), insures to every traveller any degree of luxurious comfort he
requires. Even the man who, after visiting all the enchanted points in
the Land of Enchantment, in its prehistoric period of twenty years ago
before Pullman cars climbed the mountain peaks and the Waldorf-Astoria
type of hotels sprang up, the man who, after a trip through these
wonders of the world, returned to New York and declared that he would
rather see an electric bell and a bath than all the grandeur between
Pike's Peak and the Pacific, would now be fully reconciled to Western
sojourns. He would find his electric bell and his bath to be as much a
matter of course as in Fifth Avenue, besides also finding that there
were spectacles,--as that of the Garden of the Gods, Cheyenne Cañon,
the Petrified Forests, the Grand Cañon, and the Los Angeles electric
trolley system (which quite deserves to rank with the modern "Seven
Wonders" of the world), and which Fifth Avenue by no means provided for
her votaries. In fact, "El Tovar" is so inclusive of comfort as to be
fairly a feature of the cañon, commanding, on one side, a magnificence
of prospect without parallel in the world in the mighty chasm on
whose brink it stands, on the other side the fragrant Coconino pine
forest,--the largest belt of pine timber in the United States, and
which has been made a government forest reservation.
There is now a project to erect a memorial to Major John W. Powell, the
pioneer explorer of the Grand Cañon, to be placed on the rim at the
head of Bright Angel Trail at El Tovar. This most fitting plan to honor
the name of the great scientist and explorer whose research contributed
the first authoritative knowledge of the cañon is the thought of the
American Scenic Association, which will petition Congress to grant the
requisite appropriation. No monument to human greatness could be more
ideally placed than this to perpetually repeat to every visitor and
sojourner the name of the explorer who successfully achieved the most
startling and heroic journey in all history,--that made through the
complete extent of the Grand Cañon.
It was in 1869 that Major Powell, with four boats and nine men,
inaugurated this expedition, starting from Green River City in Utah.
He was dissuaded and importuned in the most urgent way by those
most familiar with the region not to attempt the feat. The Indians
especially insisted that no boat could live in any one of the score of
rapids to be passed. There was also a tradition that for some hundreds
of miles the river lost itself in the earth, and Major Powell and his
men would thus be imprisoned within a Titantic fortress from which
escape would be impossible. But men of destiny do not hesitate when
they are led to great achievements. Major Powell set out on May 24,
1869, with his nine men and four boats, and landed on August 3, with
four men and two boats, at the mouth of the Virgin River, after having
sailed the boiling torrent of the Colorado River, at the bottom of the
cañon, for more than a thousand miles. Mr. C. A. Higgins characterizes
this feat as "the most wonderful geological and spectacular phenomenon
known to mankind."
The first authentic knowledge of the existence of the Grand Cañon
dates back to August of 1540, when the Spanish friar, Alvar Nuñez,
after years of romantic wanderings among the pueblos of the Southwest,
returned to Mexico with tales of this mighty chasm. Coronado, who
had discovered the Seven Cities of Cibola (of which now only Zuñi
remains), ordered Garcia Lopez to take a band of men and Indian guides
and search for this chasm, which he succeeded in discovering; with the
more difficulty, surely, in that one has to gain its very rim before he
has hardly an intimation of its proximity. The spectacle of the cañon
always presents itself as a sudden surprise. It was not, however, until
1884 that, by the building of the great transcontinental line, the
Santa Fé, the Grand Cañon became accessible. Then for some twenty years
it was reached, as has already been noted, by stage from Flagstaff.
Now one can travel in his sleeper without change from Chicago to El
Tovar, and thousands of tourists annually visit the extraordinary
scene. Not the least of the interesting data regarding the cañon is
this gulf of more than three hundred years that divides its discovery
from its taking rank as the most phenomenal scenic resort of the world.
The mills of the gods grind slowly. The visitors to the Grand Cañon
present singularly cosmopolitan groups, there being hardly a country in
the world that is not represented at some time during the year.
For the cañon has all seasons for its own. It is almost as much of
an object of winter as of summer pilgrimage. One season is found, on
the whole, to be almost as enjoyable here as another. It is cool in
summer, and it is warm and sunny in winter. Sometimes there is a fairy
snowfall, but hardly more lasting than a spring frost, and when it
comes it only adds another flitting variety to the stupendous scene.
With untold tons of the water of the Colorado River pouring itself in
torrents through the bottom of the cañon, all the water used for the
table, for toilet, and for laundry purposes has to be brought from a
distance of a hundred and twenty miles, and twenty thousand gallons are
in daily use. An electric-light plant furnishes brilliant illumination.
The Hopi House, built in imitation of an Indian pueblo, with a group
of quaintly garbed Hopi Indians within in attendance, is a curiosity;
and besides the Hopis there are Navajos and Supais coming to sell their
handiwork,--that of pottery, silver ornaments, blankets, and baskets.
Cataract Cañon, forty miles from El Tovar, is the home of the Supais,
and it is a place that well repays visiting for an entirely new point
of view of the vast cañon that it affords. There are peaceful Indians
to be seen daily riding their horses through the pine woods, journeying
from El Tovar to Grand View, to "Hance's Trail," to "Moran's Point,"
and other localities, to sell or barter their wares. One old Indian
who seems to roam about alone has developed an ingenious manner of
procuring food when he is hungry. He enters the hotel office and seeks
the proprietor himself, recognizing with unerring instinct that this
gentleman's liberal endowment of sympathy and unfailing generosity
never permits him to "turn down" a request for aid. The wily old savage
seeks him out and makes conspicuous overtures of his affection.
"You is heap my son; pale face heap my son!" the dusky visitor
declares, and when this assurance is emphasized to the proprietor he
realizes that it means he is "heap my son" because his visitor is
hungry. These outbursts of devotion occur only when the old Indian is
at his wits' end to know where to procure something to eat. Once fed he
is off, and thinks no more of the man whom he assured that he was "heap
my son" until hunger again assails him and stimulates his parental
affection.
So the little trifles and pleasantries of the _comédie humaine_
assert their place in the general life even on the rim of the sublime
spectacle of the Carnival of the Gods.
For more than two hundred miles the cañon offers its innumerable
panoramas, no one ever duplicating that of another. There are thousands
of cañons in it--it is a complicated system of colossal cañons. Every
wall is an aggregation of hundreds of walls. Every pinnacle is formed
of hundreds of pinnacles. When the sun shines in splendor on the
vermilion walls, the glory is almost beyond what man can bear. When
from the trail below a star seems to float in the air and rest on the
verge of the cliff, what words can convey any image of this ineffable
beauty?
The cloud-effects are another of the phases of faëry. A rain creates a
panorama of clouds creeping out of one cañon and flying into another,
all "as if they had souls and wills of their own," says Major Powell;
and he adds, "In the imagination the clouds belong to the sky, and when
they are in the cañon the skies come down into the gorges and cling to
the cliffs and lift them up to immeasurable heights, for the sky must
still be far away; thus they lend infinity to the walls." The cañon
mirrors the color and the state of the sky as water does. This is one
of the most curious facts connected with it. "Yet form and color do not
exhaust all the divine qualities of the Grand Cañon," continues Major
Powell; "it is the land of music. The river thunders in perpetual
roar, swelling in floods of music when the storm-gods play upon the
rocks, and fading away in soft and low murmurs when the infinite blue
of heaven is unveiled.... The adamant foundations of the earth have
been wrought into a sublime harp upon which the clouds of heaven play
with mighty tempests or with gentle showers."
Major Powell, the explorer and practically the modern discoverer of the
cañon, remains its most complete interpreter. His journal narrating
that remarkable voyage through the Colorado River in a region "more
difficult to traverse than the Alps or the Himalayas," is fairly an
epic in American literature. He had the vision of the painter and the
heart of the poet. He felt that infinitely complex variety of the
cañon, and he read its sublime inscriptions on a scroll not made with
hands. He pictures one feature especially that has hardly been touched
by other writers,--that of the perpetually changing aspects. "One
moment as we looked out over the landscape," he writes, "the atmosphere
seemed to be trembling and moving about, giving the impression of an
unstable land: plains and hills and cliffs and distant mountains seemed
vaguely to be floating about in a trembling, wave-rocked sea; and
patches of landscape would seem to float away and be lost, and then
reappear.... The craggy buttes seem dancing about.... The sun shone
in splendor on the vermilion walls. Shaded into green and gray when
the rocks were lichened over, the river filled the channel from wall
to wall, and the cañon opened like a beautiful doorway to a region of
glory. But at evening, when the sun was going down and the shadows were
settling in the cañon, the scarlet gleams and roseate hues, blended
with tints of green and gray, slowly changed to sombre brown above and
black shadows crept over them from below.... Lying down, one looked
up through the cañon and saw that only a little of the blue heavens
appeared overhead,--a crescent of blue sky with but two or three
constellations peering down upon us. Soon I saw a bright star that
appeared to rest on the verge of the cliffs overhead, and, as it moved
up from the rock, I almost wondered that it did not fall, and indeed it
appeared as if swayed down by its own weight. The star appeared to be
_in_ the cañon, so high were the walls."
So the wonderful story of Major Powell's runs on of these atmospheric
phenomena of the cañon, effects that
"... give to seas and sunset skies
Their unspent beauty of surprise."
It is from Bright Angel Trail that the Grand Cañon is the most
accessible. Parties of men and women, mounted on sure-footed burros,
go down this trail with their guides--apparently under the special
protection of the bright angels of the celestial host, as no accident
has ever, thus far, occurred. Prof. George Wharton James notes, in his
invaluable work on the Grand Cañon,[5] that this trail was originally
used by the Havasupai Indians and that the rude irrigating canals that
conveyed water from an adjacent spring to a so-called Indian Garden
in the near vicinity are still to be seen. The view from the head of
Bright Angel Trail is one of vast extent and a peculiar sublimity.
Buddha Temple is a colossal pile that rises in isolated grandeur,
and near it is Buddha Cloister. An impressive tower of rock rising
in the cañon bears the honored name of Agassiz. Isis Temple and the
Temple of Brahma are within the range of the eye from this point.
The perfectly transparent air, and that absence of aërial vibration
that characterizes the atmosphere of Arizona, conspire to invest all
distance with magic illusion. Looking across the thirteen miles of the
cañon's abyss from Bright Angel Trail, the opposite rim hardly seems
farther away than the distance of three or four city blocks. Isis
Temple is said to be as great in mass as the mountainous part of Mt.
Washington, and the summit of Isis looks down six thousand feet into
the depths of a chasm, the ledges on the side being "as impracticable
as the face of Bunker Hill Monument."
It is a noticeable fact, and one which the general reader may regard
with quiet amusement, that all the writers who even attempt to allude
to the Grand Cañon quote copiously from each other; and this is the
almost inevitable instinct of each, in order to reinforce himself with
authority for statements which, to those who have not themselves gazed
upon this Carnival of the Gods, would sound incredible even to the
verge of the wildest extravaganza. Major Powell's vivid transcription
of his thrilling journey through the cañon, sailing through the
boiling, rushing river whose torrents constantly threatened to engulf
his boats,--Major Powell's transcription stands for itself alone;
it was not only the pictured scenes of a writer, but the scientific
report of an official government explorer; but since this,--and from
Major Powell's narrative every writer invariably quotes,--since this,
the writers quote from each other; they use each other's statements
as evidence which they cite in order to support their own statements
regarding a marvel so unspeakably phenomenal that the most literal and
statistical description reads like an Arabian Nights romance. Then,
too, the array of pen-pictures is interesting. A writer who coined
wonderful descriptive phrases is Mr. C. A. Higgins. Of the silent
transformations of the cañon when it "sinks into mysterious purple
shadow" he said: "The far Shinumo Altar is tipped with a golden ray,
and against a leaden horizon the long line of the Echo Cliffs reflects
a soft brilliance of indescribable beauty, a light that, elsewhere,
surely never was on sea or land. Then darkness falls," he continues,
"and should there be a moon, the scene in part revives in silver light
a thousand spectral forms projected from inscrutable gloom; dreams of
mountains, as in their sleep they brood on things eternal." Others who
have written of the Grand Cañon are: Harriet Monroe, whose poet's pen
is dipped in the colors of an artist's palette; George Wharton James;
and Mr. Charles S. Gleed, a distinguished lawyer of Topeka, who thus
described the Cañon's wonders:
"Surrendering our minds to the magic spell of that mighty chasm,
what pictures troop before us! Yonder see Gibraltar, giant sentinel
of the Mediterranean. There on long ledges are St. Peter's
and St. Paul's, Niagara, the Pyramids, and the Tower of Pisa.
Bracketed beyond are the great parliament houses of the world.
Down below behold in life size the lesser mountains of our own
land,--Washington, Monadnock, Mansfield, Lookout, and a thousand
others. See in the distance a million colored pictures of the Alps,
the Adirondacks, and the Sierras. On endless shelves, this way and
that, behold the temples and cathedrals, the castles and fortresses
of all time. See vast armies, the armies of the ages, winding up
the slopes, and great navies manoeuvring in the mirage-like
distance. Here, indeed, the giant mind of Dante would have found
new worlds to conquer; and Homer would have dreamed new dreams of
gods and men, love and war, life and death, heaven and hell."
Hamlin Garland, in one of his prose-poems, has said:
"The clouds and the sunset, the moonrise and the storm, will
transform it into a splendor no mountain range can surpass. Peaks
will shift and glow, walls darken, crags take fire, and gray-green
mesas, dimly seen, take on the gleam of opalescent lakes of
mountain water. The traveller who goes out to the edge and peers
into the great abyss sees but one phase out of hundreds. If he is
fortunate, it may be one of its most beautiful combinations of
color and shadow. But to know it, to feel its majesty, one should
camp in the bottom and watch the sunset and the moonrise while the
river marches from its lair like an angry lion."
Robert Brewster Stanton, a civil engineer whose original work has
brought him prominently before the scientific world, followed Major
Powell's explorations, twenty years later, with a surveying company of
his own organization,--and Mr. Stanton is, indeed, the only explorer
who has made the continuous journey the entire length of the Colorado
River which Major Powell navigated for a thousand miles. It was in May
of 1889 that Mr. Stanton and his men initiated this daring feat, and
of one phase of the appearance of the cañon Mr. Stanton's glowing,
eloquent pen recorded:
"Those terrifying, frowning walls _are moving, are changing_! A new
light is not only creeping over them, but is coming out from their
very shadows. See those flattened slopes above the dark sandstone on
top the granite; even at this very moment they are _being colored_ in
gorgeous stripes of horizontal layers of yellow, brown, white, green,
and purple.
"What means this wondrous change? Wherein lies this secret of the great
cañon?
"After living in it and with it for so many weeks and months, I lost
all thought of the great chasm as being only a huge rock mass, carved
into its many intricate forms by ages of erosion. It became to me what
it has ever since remained, and what it really is,--a living, moving,
sentient being!
"The Grand Cañon is not a solitude. It is a living, moving, pulsating
being, ever changing in form and color, pinnacles and towers springing
into being out of unseen depths. From dark shades of brown and black,
scarlet flames suddenly flash out and then die away into stretches of
orange and purple. How can such a shifting, animated glory be called 'a
thing'? It is a being, and among its upper battlements, its temples,
its amphitheatres, its cathedral spires, its monuments and its domes,
and in the deeper recesses of its inner gorge its spirit, its soul,
the very spirit of the living God himself, lives and moves and has its
being."
Mr. C. M. Skinner, of the "Brooklyn Eagle," impressively wrote:
"... After the sky colors, too, have faded, you are about to turn
away, lingering, regretting, when--again, a wonder; for new colors,
deep, tender, solemn, flow up along the painted walls, as night
brims out of the deep. The bottom grows vague and misty, but each
Walhalla is steeped in purple as soft as the bloom of grapes.
When day is wholly gone and the cañon has become to the eye a mere
feeling or impression of depth and space, walk out on some lonely
point. The slopes, thirteen miles away, are visible as gray walls,
distinct from the black cliffs, and on the hither side the trees
are clear against the snow. No night is absolute in blackness, but
as we look it seems as though the cañon was lighted from within.
It is an abyss of shadow and mystery. There is a sadness in the
cañon, as in all great things of nature, that removes it from human
experience. We have seen the utmost of the world's sublimity, and
life is fuller from that hour."
All these and many other transcriptions of its glory form a picture
gallery which each lover of the Grand Cañon prizes as among his
choicest possessions. Thomas Moran, the artist, has painted many
scenes from the cañon, one of these paintings having been placed in
the Capitol in Washington, where it is the object of the admiration
and the wonder of the endless procession of visitors who throng the
nation's centre. Painter and poet and prophet make their pilgrimages
to this one stupendous Marvel of Nature. To the prophets and the poets
of every century and every age it flashes its responsive message; and
the worshipper at the shrine of this Infinite Beauty, this sublimest
Majesty, can but feel, with Mr. Higgins,--that poetic lover of the vast
Southwest, the lover of music and literature and art and nature, whose
beautiful life on earth closed in 1900, but whose charm of presence
still pervades the scenes he loved and memorialized,--with this lofty
and poetic recorder of nature one can but say of the Grand Cañon:
"Never was picture more harmonious, never flower more exquisitely
beautiful. It flashes instant communication of all that architecture
and painting and music for a thousand years have gropingly striven to
express. It is the soul of Michael Angelo and of Beethoven."
* * * * *
In retrospective glance over a very midsummer night's dream of
the ineffable glory and beauty of wanderings from Pike's Peak to
the Pacific there stands out to the mental vision one treasured
possession whose loveliness exceeds that of all scenic landscape;
which is more luminous and crystal clear than the luminous atmosphere
of beautiful Colorado or glowing Arizona; which is more enduring in
its changelessness than even the Petrified Forests or the mighty
precipices of the Grand Cañon; which is invested with all the etherial
splendor of that brilliant young city which the Spanish conquerors
knew as _Pueblo de la Reine de los Angeles_: which is as sacred in its
nature as are the sacred legends of the Holy Faith of St. Francis.
This treasured possession is that of the friendships formed during
this enchanted journey; of the generous kindness, the bountiful
hospitality; the exquisite courtesy and grace constantly received
from each and all with an unfailing uniformity, including those in
widely varying relations and pursuits; those who, according to outer
standards, are the more, or the less, fortunate in power, resources, or
development,--the treasured possession of all this sweet and gracious
friendliness is imperishable; and in this priceless and precious gift,
which is not only a treasure for the life that now is, but also for the
life which is to come, is there crystallized all the charm of summer
wanderings in the Land of Enchantment.
INDEX
INDEX
Acoma, New Mexico, 183;
theory of its origin, 184;
its antiquity, 185;
rivalry between it and Laguna, 185, 186;
Charles F. Lummis on, 186, 187.
Adamana, the gateway to the Petrified Forests of Arizona, 270;
origin of its name, 270;
the simple life at, 274, 275.
Adams, the Hon. Alva, 117, 118;
quoted, 118, 119, 120.
Agriculture in Colorado, 130, 131;
in New Mexico, 204, 205.
Albuquerque, New Mexico, 196;
excursions from, 196;
a "smart" town, 200;
characteristics of, 201.
Ames, Rev. Dr. Charles Gordon, on civilization, 162.
Arizona, sights of, 4, 228, 229, 239, 257, 258, 267, 268;
a treasure land, 9;
visited by the Spaniards, 214;
a land of magic and mystery, 228, 254, 255;
its resources, 230, 255;
irrigation in, 230, 231, 246;
rainfall in, 230, 279;
its attractions for men of science, 231, 232;
flora of, 232;
cacti of, 233;
grasses of, 234;
climate of, 234, 235, 256;
as a health resort, 234, 235;
meaning of the name, 236;
history of, 236;
separation from New Mexico, 236, 237, 252;
rivers of, 240, 251;
capital of, 243;
towns of, 251;
safety of property in, 251;
citizens of, 252, 254;
festivity of the "Snake Dance," 258, 259, 260, 261;
the "Painted Desert" of, 263, 264, 265, 266;
Petrified Forests of, 270;
desert of, 284, 285.
Bear Creek Cañon, 89.
Bell, the Hon. John C., and the Gunnison Tunnel, 111.
"Ben Hur," where written, 219.
Boston woman characterized, 23.
Brooks, Bishop Phillips, on the superhuman, 181;
quoted, 216.
California, Southern, features of, 9.
Campbell, Rev. Frederick, on Glenwood Springs, 96, 97.
Campbell, Prof. H. W., on "dry farming," 129, 130.
Cañon Diablo, Arizona, 289, 292.
Caruthers, William, on resources of Cripple Creek, 77.
"Cathedral Rock," 74, 75, 81.
Cheyenne Cañon, 65, 66, 67;
Helen Hunt Jackson on, 65.
Cliff-dwellings of Southern Colorado, 114, 115, 116;
bill in Congress for preservation of, 114, 115;
opinions concerning, 116;
at Flagstaff, Arizona, 286.
Colorado, splendors of, 14, 139;
a second Italy, 15, 97;
people of, 16;
woman suffrage in, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29;
developed a demand for specialists, 33;
employment in, 33;
revenue of, 34;
railways of, 37, 40, 99;
C. B. Knox on the future of, 39;
Major Pike's description of, 63;
has larger percentage of American population than any other Western
state, 88;
waterfalls of, 104;
irrigation of, 110, 111, 119, 126, 127, 133, 134, 141, 145, 146, 151;
yachting in, 111, 112, 113;
mountain climbing in, 113, 114;
agriculture in, 130, 131;
ranching in, 132;
"trip round the circle" journey described, 134, 135, 136, 137, 138;
engineering feats in, 138;
park systems of, 139;
industries of, 139, 140, 141;
stone-quarrying in, 142, 143;
mineral resources of, 143, 144, 147;
population of, 147;
progress of, 148;
towns of, 148;
northern, 149;
coal-fields of, 150;
fruit cultivation in, 151;
labor in, 152, 153;
forests of, 153, 154;
sport in, 155;
public school system in, 173;
literature and art in, 177;
its future, 178, 180, 181.
----, pioneers of, 157-181;
contrasted with the Pilgrim Fathers, 158;
"Denver Republican" on, 158;
their unselfishness, 159, 160, 163;
environment of, 162, 163;
Nathan Cook Meeker, 164-176.
Colorado College, 85, 86, 87.
Colorado Fuel and Iron Company, 124, 125, 126.
Colorado River, Arizona, 240;
Prof. N. H. Newell on, 240, 241, 242.
Colorado Springs, gateway to Pike's Peak district, 51;
climate of, 52;
excursions from, 52;
as a tourist centre, 57;
summer and autumn in, 83;
the town described, 84;
life at, 84, 85;
founded by General Palmer, 85;
buildings of, 88;
park system of, 89, 91.
Commencement ceremonies in East and West contrasted, 86.
Cripple Creek, towns of, 75, 76;
gold resources of, 75, 76, 77;
mines of, 76;
character of miners in, 77, 78;
favorite excursion from, 78, 79.
Denver, 15;
metropolis of the West, 16;
climate of, 16, 44;
its buildings, 17, 18, 19;
residential district of, 17;
the Capitol, 18;
City Park, 18, 19;
homes of, 19;
telephone service of, 21;
women of, and politics, 22, 23, 25;
election frauds in, 28;
smelteries of, 34;
growth of population, 37;
future of, 38;
City Arch, 40, 41, 42;
spirit of the city, 42;
enterprise of, 43;
an early opinion of, 43;
a convention city, 45;
Art League of, 46;
institutions of, 46;
education in, 46, 47;
churches of, 47;
life in, 48;
should replace Washington as capital of the Union, 48, 49;
electrical supply in, 106.
Denver and Rio Grande Railway, 99;
scenery on, 100.
"Denver Republican, The," quoted, 147;
on the pioneers of Colorado, 158.
"Dry Farming" system, discovered by Prof. H. W. Campbell, 129;
Professor Olin on benefits of, 131;
extent of, in Eastern Colorado, 131;
success of, in New Mexico, 204.
Eliot, Rev. Dr. Samuel A., quoted, 86, 87.
Emerson, Ralph Waldo, quoted, 25, 51, 63, 94, 104, 157, 182, 228, 268,
270, 275, 296, 311.
Estes Park, Colorado, 155.
"Fairy Caves" of Colorado, 98, 100, 101.
Fellows, Professor, surveys for the Gunnison Tunnel, 109, 111.
Flagstaff, Arizona, 286;
its antiquities, 286;
the Lowell Observatory at, 287, 288.
Franciscans, mission churches of, 191, 209, 210;
their labors, 208, 216, 217.
Frost, Colonel Max, on old New Mexico, 187-193;
his influence in New Mexico, 225;
his career, 226;
Secretary of the Bureau of Immigration, 227.
"Garden of the Gods," Colorado, 91, 92;
gateway to, 91, 92.
Garland, Hamlin, on the Grand Cañon, 333, 334.
Gilbert, Prof. G. K., studies Meteorite Mountain of Arizona, 290, 293,
294.
Gleed, Charles S., on the Grand Cañon, 333.
Glenwood Springs, Colorado, 94;
its mineral springs, 94, 95;
bathing at, 95, 96, 97;
Rev. Frederick Campbell on, 96;
hot cave of, 97;
"Fairy Caves" of, 98, 99, 100, 101;
scenery at, 99.
Grand Cañon, 4;
scenic marvels of, 311, 312, 314, 315, 317, 319, 321;
Harriet Monroe on, 312, 313;
compared with the Eiffel Tower, 313;
area of, 313, 319, 328;
always revealing new beauties, 316;
atmospheric effects of, 316, 318, 319;
approach to, 318, 325, 326, 330;
architectural effects of, 319, 320, 328;
Charles Dudley Warner on, 322;
visitors to, 322;
hotels of, 323;
proposed memorial to Major John W. Powell, 324;
earliest discovery of, 325;
the Hopi House at, 326;
Indians of, 327;
Major Powell's journal of his exploration of, 329, 330, 332;
Prof. George Wharton James on, 331;
eulogies of, by C. A. Higgins, 332, 337,
by Charles S. Gleed, 333,
by Hamlin Garland, 333,
by Robert Brewster Stanton, 334,
and by C. M. Skinner, 335;
paintings of, by Thomas Moran, 336.
Grand Caverns of Pike's Peak, 68, 69;
memorial to General Grant in, 69.
Grand Lake, Colorado, 112;
its yacht club, 112.
Grand River, the, 101.
Grant, General, memorial to, in Grand Caverns, 69.
Greeley, founding of, 164, 169, 171, 172;
constitution of, 172;
population of, 173;
educational establishments of, 173;
churches of, 174;
buildings of, 175;
life in, 175;
the Meeker Memorial Library, 175.
Greeley, Horace, and Colorado, 168.
"Greeley Tribune, The," on irrigation, 127, 128;
foundation of, 174.
Grenfell, Helen, record of, 27.
Gunnison River, Colorado, 107, 108;
plan to divert, 108.
Gunnison Tunnel, 108, 109, 110.
Hammond, the Hon. Meade, and the Gunnison Tunnel, 111.
Higgins, C. A., on the Grand Cañon, 332, 337.
Hosmer, Harriet, on travelling by night, 12.
Howe, Julia Ward, quoted, 161.
Irrigation in Colorado, 107, 110, 111, 119, 125, 126, 127, 128, 133,
134, 141, 145, 146, 151;
in New Mexico, 203, 204;
in Arizona, 230, 231, 246;
in California, 302, 307, 308.
Jackson, Helen Hunt, quoted, 65.
James, Prof. George Wharton, on Californian missions, 210;
on Indian life in Arizona, 261, 262, 263;
on the "Painted Desert," 264, 265;
home of, at Pasadena, 305, 306;
his love of the desert of the Southwest, 306, 307;
on the Grand Cañon, 330.
Kansas City, 13.
Kearny, General Stephen W., occupies Santa Fé, 218, 219;
memorial to, 218;
quoted, 218.
Kirley, the Hon. Joseph H., on Arizona, 251.
Knox, C. B., on Colorado, 39, 40.
Lacey, Representative, on the Mesa Verde cliff-dwellings, 115, 116.
Laguna, New Mexico, 185, 186.
Las Vegas, New Mexico, 199;
hot springs of, 199, 200;
its attractions, 202.
Lindsay, Judge, on woman suffrage, 27, 28, 29.
Lookout Mountain, Colorado, 102, 103;
scenery on the ascent of, 103.
Los Angeles, the "boom" of, 229, 300, 301;
trolley system of, 299, 303;
lighting of, 300;
its parks, 301;
public library of, 301;
climate, 302;
irrigation in, 302, 307;
life of, 303, 304, 310;
population of, 307;
as a centre for excursions, 308;
idealism of, 309;
Pacific School Osteopathy at, 309;
churches of, 309, 310.
Lowell Observatory, 6, 268, 276, 287, 288.
Lowell, Professor Percival, 287.
Manitou, 67, 68, 104;
mineral springs of, 67.
Manitou Park, 64, 65.
Maricopa County, 243, 244.
Mars, photographs of, taken at Lowell Observatory, 287, 288, 289.
Mead, Prof. Elwood, on irrigation, 144, 145.
Meeker family, 164, 165.
Meeker, the Hon. Nathan Cook, 165;
his career, 165, 166;
his visit to the West, 167;
Horace Greeley encourages him to establish a colony in Colorado, 168;
founds the town of Greeley, 169;
his work among the Indians, 169, 170;
massacred, 170.
Meeker, town of, 170, 171.
Mendoza, expeditions organized by, 213, 236.
Meredith, Ellis, 79;
her literary work, 80;
her ode to the "Short Line," 81.
"Mesa, the Enchanted," ascent of, 184;
described, 184.
Mesa Verde, cliff-dwellings of, 115, 116;
Representative Lacey on, 115, 116.
Meteorite Mountain, Arizona, 290;
theory of origin, 290, 291, 293, 295;
discovery of diamonds in, 290;
description of, 291, 292;
experiments of Dr. Foote relating to, 295.
Monroe, Harriet, on the "Painted Desert," 263;
quoted, 311;
on the Grand Cañon, 312, 313.
Montezuma Well, Arizona, 257.
Monument Park, 91.
Monument Valley, 91.
Moran, Thomas, paintings by, of the Grand Cañon, 336.
Mount Massive, ascent of, 113, 114.
Mountain climbing in Colorado, 113, 114.
Muir, John, discovers a new Petrified Forest of Arizona, 277.
Munk, Dr. Joseph A., on the cacti of Arizona, 232, 233;
on Arizona as a health resort, 234, 235.
Murphy, the Hon. N. O., opinions on the union of Arizona and New
Mexico, 253, 254.
New Mexico, features of, 8;
climate of, 13;
a land of surprises, 182;
its mixed population, 182;
scenery of, 183;
ruins of, 183;
its ancient civilization, 187-193;
Franciscan mission churches of, 191;
archæology of, 193;
its progress in modern ideas, 194;
French expedition to, 195;
compared with Algiers, 195;
hotels in, 195;
resources of, 196, 197, 198;
irrigation in, 203, 204;
railroads of, 203;
opportunities in, 204;
fruit growing in, 205;
mineral wealth of, 205;
under Spanish rule, 214;
records of, 217;
Historical Association of, 220.
Newberry, Dr., on Arizona, 267.
Newell, Prof. N. H., on the Colorado River, 240, 241, 242.
Newspapers of the Southwest, 122;
"Greeley Tribune" quoted, 127;
"Denver Republican" quoted, 147, 158;
"The New Mexican," 225;
"The Eagle" of Santa Fé, 227.
Night, charm of travelling by, 11, 12;
at Pike's Peak, 55, 56.
Nizza, Friar Marcos de, missionary labors of, 208;
expedition of, 213.
Oñate, Juan de, founds Santa Fé, 214.
"Painted Desert," The, of Arizona, 261-266;
Prof. George Wharton James on, 262, 264;
Harriet Monroe on, 263.
Pajarito Park, New Mexico, 187.
Palmer, General William J., founds Colorado Springs, 85;
benefactor of the state, 89, 90, 93;
residence of, 90.
Pasadena, California, 304;
home of Prof. George Wharton James at, 305, 306.
"Pathfinders and Pioneers," Governor Alva Adams on, 118, 119, 120.
Patterson, Senator, career of, 31, 32.
Petrified Forests, the, of Arizona, 270;
a visit to, 271, 278, 279;
atmospheric effects in, 272, 273, 283;
towns in neighborhood of, 276;
metropolis of, 277;
discovery by John Muir, 277;
difficulties of visiting, 279;
three in number, 279;
area of, 279;
antiquities of, 281, 282;
preservation of, insured by the Government, 282;
the marvel of the geologist, 283;
an arid region, 284.
Phillips, Stephen, quoted, 15.
Phoenix, capital of Arizona, 243;
a tourist centre, 243;
attractions of, 245;
winter in, 245;
school system of, 252.
Pike, Major (afterwards General) Zebulon Montgomery, discovery by, 59;
his ascent of Pike's Peak, 60;
his career, 61, 62;
diary of, 62, 63.
Pike's Peak, region of, 4;
gateway of, 51;
winter at, 51;
the mountain described, 52, 53, 54;
sunsets at, 54, 55;
at night, 55, 56;
cogwheel railway of, 56;
ascent of, 57, 58;
its souvenir daily paper, 57;
summit of, 58;
discovery of, 59;
centenary of discovery celebrated, 64;
favorite excursion in vicinity of, 64.
Pilgrim Fathers, contrasted with the Colorado pioneers, 158.
"Point of Rocks," Arizona, 238.
Powell, Major John W., explores the Grand Cañon, 324, 325;
journal of his expedition, 329, 330.
Prescott, in Arizona, 237;
mines of, 237;
the "Point of Rocks" near, 238;
surrounding country, 238.
Prince, the Hon. L. Bradford, on New Mexico, 218.
Pueblo, 116, 117;
home of Governor Alva Adams in, 117;
its amenities, 121, 123;
club-house of, 121;
climate of, 122;
library of, 122;
plant of the Colorado Fuel and Iron Company at, 124, 125, 126.
Ranching in Colorado, 132.
Raton, New Mexico, 198.
Routt County, mineral wealth of, 39.
Salpointe, Most Rev. Dr. J. B., archbishop of New Mexico, 210.
Salt River Valley, Arizona, 230, 244, 247;
its mammoth dam, 231;
fruit-rearing in, 247.
Salton Sea, the, 242.
Salton Sink, the, 242, 243.
San Xavier, mission church of, 215, 217.
Santa Fé, consecrated by holy memories, 207;
founded by Oñate, 209, 214;
centre of archdiocese, 210;
church of San Miguel, 209, 211;
visit of Diego de Vargas to, 211;
buildings of, 212;
inhabitants of, 212;
oldest town in the United States, 214;
occupied by General Stephen W. Kearney, 218;
governed by General Lew. Wallace, 219;
"Ben Hur" written at, 219;
old palace of, 220;
society in, 220, 221;
precious stones in vicinity of, 221;
chapel of San Rosario, 221, 222;
history of, 223;
buildings of, 223.
Santa Monica, California, 303.
Seeman Tunnel, the, 35;
claims reached by, 36.
"Short Line" trip, Colorado, 4, 7, 70, 71, 72;
homes along the railway, 74;
hand-car journey on, 79, 80, 81;
Ellis Meredith's ode to, 81.
Skinner, C. M., on the Grand Cañon, 335, 336.
"Snake Dance, The," in Arizona, 258, 259, 260, 261.
Southwest, scenic attractions of, 4-14;
characteristics of life in, 10;
travelling facilities of, 11, 12;
gateway of, 13.
Stanton, Robert Brewster, on the Grand Cañon, 334, 335.
Stone, Lucy, and the emancipation of women, 24.
St. Peter's Dome, railway up, 4;
excursion to, 64;
ascent of, 71, 73;
view from, 72, 74.
Sugar, cultivation of, in Colorado, 139, 140, 141, 150.
Teller, the Hon. Henry M., career of, 30.
"Temple Drive," a favorite excursion in Pike's Peak region, 64.
Tennyson, Lord, quoted, 3.
Thayer, Mrs. Emma Homan, 102;
her "Wild Flowers in Colorado," 102.
Tonto Basin, mammoth dam at, 246, 248, 249, 250;
entailed the destruction of the town of Roosevelt, 247, 250.
Vaca, Cabeza de, expedition of, 213.
Vargas, Diego de, visits Santa Fé, 211, 221;
his vow to the Virgin Mary, 222.
Wallace, General Lew., governor of New Mexico, 219;
writes "Ben Hur" at Santa Fé, 219.
Walsh, Thomas F., on Colorado and Philippine interests, 140, 141, 142.
Warner, Charles Dudley, on the Grand Cañon, 322.
Washington, may give place to Denver as the capital of the Union, 49.
Water-power, in Colorado, and electricity, 104, 105, 106, 107.
Webster, Daniel, on the worthlessness of the West, 179.
Whitman, Walt, quotation from, 158.
Woman suffrage, 23, 24, 25;
in Colorado, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29;
Judge Lindsay on, 27, 28, 29.
Yachting in Colorado, 111, 112, 113.
Zumacacori, mission church of, 215.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The Life Radiant: Little, Brown, & Company, 1903.
[2] The Old Santa Fé Trail: The Story of a Great Highway, 1897. The
Macmillan Company.
[3] In and Out of the Old Missions of California, by George Wharton
James. Little, Brown, & Co., Boston, 1905.
[4] Arizona Sketches, by Joseph A. Munk, M.D. The Grafton Press, New
York.
[5] In and Around the Grand Canyon, by George Wharton James. Little,
Brown, and Co. 1900.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:
Text in italics is surrounded with underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Archaic and variable spelling as well as inconsistencies in hyphenation have been preserved.