CHAPTER I_In the Oregon Country Out-Doors in Oregon, Washington, and California Together with some Legendary Lore, and Glimpses of the Modern West in the Making

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_By George Palmer Putnam_

The Southland of North America

(_See Announcement at Back of this Volume_)

[Illustration: The Columbia River Valley and Mount Adams

In the

Oregon Country

Out-Doors in Oregon, Washington, and California

Together with some Legendary Lore, and

Glimpses of the Modern West in

The Making

George Palmer Putnam

Author of "The Southland of North America" etc.

With an Introduction by

James Withycombe

Governor of Oregon

With 52 Illustrations

G. P. Putnam's Sons

New York and London

The Knickerbocker Press

1915

GEORGE PALMER PUTNAM

The Knickerbocker Press, New York

* * * * *

Dedicated to

THE EMBLEM CLUB

* * * * *

[Illustration]

INTRODUCTION

When one has lived in Oregon for forty-three years, and when one's

enthusiasm for his home increases year after year, naturally all that is

said of that home is of the most vital interest. Especially is it

acceptable if it is the outgrowth of a similar enthusiasm, and if it is

well said.

For a considerable span of time I have been reading what others have

written about the Pacific Coast. In the general western literature, it

has seemed to me, Oregon has never received its merited share of

consideration. Just now, with the Expositions in California attracting a

worldwide interest westward, and with the Panama Canal giving our

development a new impetus, it is especially appropriate that Oregon

receive added literary attention. And it is reasonable to suppose that

the stranger within our gates will find interest in such literature,

provided it be of the right sort, just as Oregonians must welcome a

sound addition to the State's bibliography, written by an Oregonian.

So, because I like the spirit of the following pages, admire the method

of their presentation, and deeply desire to promote the success of all

that will tend toward a larger appreciation of Oregon's possibilities, I

recommend this book to the consideration of dwellers on the Pacific

Coast, and those who desire to form acquaintance with the land it

concerns.

[Illustration: hand written signature]

_Governor of Oregon._

SALEM, OREGON,

_January 20th, 1915._

PREFACE

Often enough a preface is an outgrowth of disguised pretentiousness or

insincere humility. Presumably it is an apology for the authorship, or

at least an explanation of the purpose of the pages it introduces.

But no one is compelled to write a book; and, in truth, publishers

habitually exert a contrary influence. It is a fair supposition,

therefore, when a book is produced, that the author has some good reason

for his act, whether or not the book itself proves to be of service.

Among many plausible apologies for authorship, the most reasonable is,

it seems to me, a genuine enthusiasm for the subject at hand. If one

loves that with which the book has to do the desire to share the

possession with readers approaches altruism. In this case let us hope

that the enthusiasm, which is real, and the virtue, which is implied,

will sufficiently cloak the many faults of these little sketches, whose

mission it is to convey something of the spirit of the out-of-door land

they picture--a land loved by those who know it, and a land of limitless

welcome for the stranger who will knock at its gates.

The Oregon Country, with which these chapters are chiefly concerned, has

been the goal of expeditioning for a century and a quarter. First came

Captain Robert Gray in 1792, by sea. Meriwether Lewis and William Clark,

twelve years later, tracked 'cross country from the Missouri to the

mouth of the Columbia. In 1810, the Astor expedition, under Wilson and

Hunt, succeeded, after hardships that materially reduced the party, in

making its way from St. Louis to the Columbia and down the river to the

mouth, where was founded the town of Astoria. Finally, after a

half-century of horse-and-wagon pioneering, the first railroads spanned

the continent in 1869. But the Union Pacific and Central Pacific were

more the concern of California than of Oregon, for the Northwest had no

iron trail to link it with the parent East until in 1883 the Northern

Pacific Railway, under the leadership of Henry Villard, reached

Portland.

So Oregon was discovered by sea and land, and finally, as highways of

steel replaced the dusty trails of the emigrants, she has come into her

own. From within and without she has builded, and what she has done for

her sons, and offers to her settlers, has established a place for her in

the respectful attention of the world.

Now, in the year nineteen hundred and fifteen, a new era is dawning for

Oregon and for all our Western Coast, through fresh enterprise, this

time again by sea. The waters of the Atlantic and Pacific have been

joined at Panama, our continental coast line, to all intents and

purposes, being made continuous, and the two Portlands, of Oregon and

Maine, become maritime neighbors. Our East and our West have clasped

hands again at the Isthmus, and comparative strangers as they are, there

is need for an introduction when they meet.

Not strangers, perhaps; better brothers long separated, each unfamiliar

with the attainments and the developed character of the other. The

younger brother, the Westerner, has from the very nature of things

changed most. His growth, in body, mind, and experience, is at times

difficult for the Easterner to fathom. A generation ago, he was such an

immature fellow, so lacking in poise, in accomplishments, and even in

certain of those characteristics which comprise what the East chooses to

consider civilization; and his country, compared with what it is to-day,

was so crudely developed.

The Easterner this year is the one who is coming to his brother of the

West, because of the Canal, the Expositions celebrating its completion,

and an immediate inclination to "see America first" impressed upon our

public for the most part by the present war-madness of Europe.

It would be rank presumption for any one person to pretend to speak a

word of explanation to that visitor on behalf of the Coast. As a fact,

no explanation is required; the States of the Pacific are their own

explanation, and their people must be known by their works. Secondly,

the Coast is such a vast territory that what might be a reasonably

intelligent introduction to one portion of it would be utterly

inapplicable elsewhere.

So this little book does not undertake to present a comprehensive

account of our westernmost States, or even of the Oregon Country. It is

intended simply to suggest a few of the many attractions which may be

encountered here and there along the Pacific, the references to which

are woven together with threads of personal reminiscence pertaining to

characteristic phases of the western life of to-day. For the stranger it

may possess some measure of information; it should at least induce him

to tarry in the region sufficiently long to secure an impression of the

byways as well as of the highways. For the man to whom Oregon,

California, or Washington stands for home, these pages may contain an

echo of interest--for we are apt to enjoy most sympathetic accounts of

the things we love best. But for visitor or resident, or one who reads

of a country he may not see, the chief mission of these chapters is to

chronicle something of their author's enthusiasm for the land they

concern, to hint of the pleasurable possibilities of its out-of-doors,

and, mayhap, to offer a glimpse of the new West of to-day in the

preparation for its greater to-morrow.

G. P. P.

BEND, OREGON,

December 25, 1914.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Some of the material in this book has been printed in substantially the

same form in _Recreation_ whose Editor has kindly sanctioned its further

utilization here.

For the use of many photographs I am indebted to the courtesy of

officials of the Oregon-Washington, and Spokane, Portland and Seattle

railways.

G. P. P.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I.--"OUT WEST" 1

II.--THE VALLEY OF CONTENT 9

III.--THE LAND OF LEGENDS 19

IV.--THE LAND OF MANY LEAGUES 37

V.--HOW THE RAILROADS CAME 54

VI.--THE HOME MAKERS 64

VII.--ON OREGON TRAILS 76

VIII.--UNCLE SAM'S FORESTS 90

IX.--A CANOE ON THE DESCHUTES 105

X.--OLYMPUS 116

XI.--"THE GOD MOUNTAIN OF PUGET SOUND" 130

XII.--A SUMMER IN THE SIERRAS 153

ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

THE COLUMBIA RIVER VALLEY AND MOUNT

ADAMS _Frontispiece_

"THE MAN FROM BOISE DESCRIBES GOD'S

COUNTRY IN TERMS OF SAGEBRUSH AND

BROWN PLAINS" 2

"THE PALOUSE DWELLER PICTURES WHEAT

FIELDS." THE GRAIN COUNTRY OF EASTERN

WASHINGTON 2

From a photograph by Frank Palmer, Spokane,

Wash.

A WESTERN MOUNTAINEERING CLUB ON THE

HIKE 6

From a photograph by Kiser Photo Co., Portland, Ore.

ALONG THE WILLAMETTE 12

MOUNT SHASTA 12

From a photograph by Weister Co., Portland, Ore.

MOUNT HOOD FROM LOST LAKE 20

Copyrighted photo by W. A. Raymond, Moro, Ore.

NATIVES SPEARING SALMON ON THE COLUMBIA 22

COASTING ON MOUNT HOOD 22

From a photograph by Weister Co., Portland, Ore.

THE PACIFIC 24

ALONG THE COLUMBIA. "GROTESQUE ROCKS

RISE SHEER FROM THE RIVER'S EDGE" 24

CELILO FALLS ON THE COLUMBIA 28

THE NORTH ABUTMENT OF THE BRIDGE OF THE

GODS 28

WHERE THE OREGON TRUNK RAILWAY CROSSES

THE COLUMBIA. "THE RIVER ROLLS BETWEEN

BANKS OF BARRENNESS" 30

COLUMBIA RIVER. THE LAND OF INDIAN

LEGENDS 30

THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA 32

From a photograph by Weister Co., Portland, Ore.

ALONG THE COLUMBIA RIVER. "A REGION OF

SURPASSING SCENERY" 34

CENTRAL OREGON TRAVEL IN THE OLD DAYS 38

A CENTRAL OREGON FREIGHTER. "YOU WILL

FIND THEM EVERYWHERE IN THE RAILLESS

LAND, THE FREIGHTERS AND THEIR TEAMS" 38

IN THE DRY-FARM LANDS OF CENTRAL OREGON.

"SERRIED BY VALLEYS, WHERE THE GOLD OF

SUN AND GRAIN, AND VAGRANT CLOUD

SHADOWS, MADE GORGEOUS PICTURINGS" 42

CROOKED RIVER CANYON, NOW SPANNED BY A

RAILROAD BRIDGE 56

IN THE DESCHUTES CANYON. "THE RIVER

WINDS SINUOUSLY, SEEKING FIRST ONE, AND

THEN ANOTHER, POINT OF THE COMPASS" 56

ALONG THE CANYON OF THE DESCHUTES 62

IRRIGATION--"FIRST, PARCHED LANDS OF SAGE;

THEN THE FLOW" 68

IRRIGATION--"NEXT, WATER IN A MASTER

DITCH AND COUNTLESS MAN-MADE RIVULETS

BETWEEN THE FURROWS" 68

"IT WAS A VERY TYPICAL STAGECOACH" 70

IN THE HOMESTEAD COUNTRY 70

A VALLEY OF WASHINGTON. "THE BIG WESTLAND

SMILES AND RECEIVES THEM ALL" 74

From a photograph by Frank Palmer, Spokane, Wash.

A TRAILSIDE DIP IN A MOUNTAIN LAKE 78

"SLIDING DOWN SNOW-FIELDS IS FUN, THOUGH

CHILLY" 78

ON THE TRAIL IN THE HIGHLANDS OF THE

CASCADES 80

"A SKY BLUE LAKE SET LIKE A SAPPHIRE IN

AN EMERALD MOUNT" 80

THE TRAILS ARE NOT ALL DRY-SHOD 84

"OUR TRAIL WOUND BENEATH A FAIRY FOREST" 84

AN OREGON TRAIL 86

From a Photograph by Kiser Photo Co., Portland, Ore.

"PACKING UP" AT A DESERTED RANGER

STATION 96

USING THE FOREST FIRE TELEPHONE AT A

RANGER STATION 96

AN OREGON TROUT STREAM 100

From a Photograph by Raymond, Moro, Ore.

CANOEING AND DUCK SHOOTING MAY BE

COMBINED ON THE DESCHUTES 108

ON A BACKWATER OF THE DESCHUTES 108

ALONG THE DESCHUTES, THE "RIVER OF FALLS."

"IT ROARS AND RUSHES, IN WHITE-WATERED

CASCADES" 112

"CANOEING IS THE MOST SATISFACTORY METHOD

OF TRAVEL EXTANT" 118

THE PACK TRAIN ABOVE TIMBER LINE 118

From a photo by Belmore Browne

"THE HUMES GLACIER, OVER WHICH WE WENT

TO MOUNT OLYMPUS" 128

"OUR NATURE-MADE CAMP IN ELWHA BASIN" 128

THE "GOD MOUNTAIN" OF PUGET SOUND 132

"THE LIVE OAKS OF BERKELEY'S CAMPUS" 156

From a photograph by Wells Drury, Berkeley, Cal.

LOOKING ACROSS THE CLOUDS TO MOUNT

ADAMS FROM THE FLANKS OF RAINIER 156

"WE GLORIED IN THE SHEER MIGHTINESS OF

EL CAPITAN" 158

"A VAST FLOWER GARDEN MAINTAINED ENTICINGLY

BY DAME NATURE" 160

LIGHT AND SHADOW IN YOSEMITE 160

SUNRISE AT HETCH-HETCHY 164

THE GOVERNMENT ROAD THAT LEADS TO

MOUNT RAINIER 164

In the Oregon Country

CHAPTER I

"Out West"

"What is the most pronounced difference between East and West?" A

Bostonian once asked me that. I was East after a year or two of

westerning, and he seemed to think it would be easy enough to answer

off-hand. But for the life of me I could find no fit reply. For a time

that is--and then it struck me.

"Everyone is proud of everything out West," said I. "Local patriotism is

a religion--if you know what I mean."

You who have lived on the Pacific Slope will understand. You who have

visited the Pacific Slope will half-understand. Did you ever hear of a

New Jersey man fighting because his town was maligned? You never did!

Have you yet encountered a York State small-town dweller who would

devote hours to proving that his community was destined to outdistance

all its neighbors because God had been especially good to it--and ready

to back his boast to the limit? No indeed! Yet most of us have seen

Westerners actually come to blows protecting the fair name of their

chosen town, and I know scores of them who can, and will, on the

slightest provocation, demonstrate that their particular Prosperity

Center is the coming city of destiny.

In short every Westerner is inordinately proud of his town and his

country. On trains you hear it, in hotel lobbies, on street corners. The

stranger seated at your side in the smoking compartment regales you with

descriptions of his particular "God's Country." If ever there was an

overworked phrase west of the Missouri, it is that, and the inventor of

a fitting synonym should reap royal rewards, in travelers' gratitude if

nothing else. The man from Boise describes "God's Country" in terms of

sagebrush and brown plains; the Palouse dweller pictures wheat fields,

mentioning not wind storms and feverish summer mercury; the

Californian sees his poppy-golden hills; the eyes of the Puget Sound

dweller are bright with memories of majestic timber and broad waterways,

unclouded by any mention of gray rain; the man from Bend talks of

rushing rivers and copper-hued pines, his enthusiasm for the homeland

unalloyed by reference to summer dusts; the orchard owner of Hood River

or Wen-atchee has his heaven lined with ruddy apples, and discourses

amazing figures concerning ever-increasing world market for the product

of his acres; he who hails from the Coast cities, whose all-pervading

passion is optimism, weaves convincing prophecies of the golden future.

And so it goes. Each for his own, each an enthusiast, a loyal patriot, a

rabid disciple. Eastern travel acquaintances produce the latest

photograph of their youngest offspring, but the Westerner brings forth

views and plats of his home town; no children of his own flesh are more

beloved.

Yes, truly, it is a bore. The thing is overdone. There is too much of

it. And yet--well, it is the very spirit of the West, a natural

expression of the pride of creation, for these men of to-day are

creating homes and towns, and doing it under fiercely competitive

conditions. They have builded upon their judgment and staked their all

upon the throw of fortune. They are pleased with their accomplishments

and vastly determined to bend the future to their ends. It is arrogance,

no doubt, but healthy and happy, and the very essence of youthful

accomplishment. And its very insistency and sincerity spell success, and

are invigorating to boot.

[Illustration: "The Palouse dweller pictures wheat fields." The grain

country of eastern Washington

From a photograph by Frank Palmer, Spokane, Wash.]

[Illustration: "The man from Boise describes God's country in terms of

sagebrush and brown plains"]

The old differences between East and West are no more, of course. Except

for a trifle more informality under the setting sun, clothes and their

wearing are the same. The Queen's English is butchered no more

distressingly in California than in Connecticut. Proportionately to

resources, educational opportunities are identical. Music and the arts

are no longer strangers where blow Pacific breezes, nor have they been

for decades. The West is wild and woolly no more, railroads have

replaced stagecoaches, fences bisect the ranges, free land is almost a

thing of the past. Yet, withal, existence for the peoples of the two

borders of our continent is not cast in an identical mold.

"Back East" residents are apt to regard the West as a land of

curiosities, human and natural. "Out West" dwellers are inclined to be

supercilious when they mention the ways of the Atlantic seaboard.

All statements to the contrary notwithstanding, East is East, and West

is West, no matter how fluently they mingle. The difference between them

is not to be defined by conversational metes and bounds. It is not

merely of miles, of scenery, or of manners, or even of enthusiasm. It

is, in fact, quite intangible, and yet it exists, as anyone who has

dwelt upon both sides of our continent realizes. Aside from the

trivialities--which are wrapt up in such words as "culture," "custom,"

"precedent," and the like--the fundamental, explanatory reason for the

intangible differences is one of years. Most of the West is buoyantly

youthful, some of it blatantly boyish. Much of the East is in the prime

of middle age, some of it senile. Naturally the East is inclined to

conservative pessimism--an attribute of advancing years--and the West to

impulsive optimism.

Do not foster the notion that the term "extreme" West really applies,

for it doesn't. The West, as I have seen it, is too nervous, socially

speaking, to dare extremes. It is too inexperienced to essay

experiments, too desirous of doing the correct thing. While it wouldn't

for the world admit the fact, socially it is quite content to keep its

intelligent eyes on the examples set back East, and even then its

replica of what it sees is apt to be a modified one.

If this bashfulness holds good socially, it emphatically does not

commercially. For in things economic there is far more dash and daring,

and bigness of conception and rapidity of realization in Western

business affairs than in those of the East. Opportunity is knocking on

every hand, and those who think and act most quickly become her lucky

hosts. The countries of the West are upbuilding with a rapidity for the

most part inconceivable to Europe-traveled Easterners, and affairs move

at a lively pace, so that the laggards are left behind and only the

able-bodied can keep abreast of the progress. And with all the dangers

of the happy-go-lucky methods, the pitfalls of the inherent gambling

that lies beneath the surface of much of it, Western business life

undoubtedly offers the favored field for the young man of to-day who

has, in addition to the normal commercial attributes, the ability to

keep his head.

[Illustration: A Western mountaineering club on the hike

From a photograph by Kiser Photo Co., Portland, Ore.]

Greeley's advice was never sounder than to-day; revised, it should read:

"Come West, young man, and help the country grow."

The start has just been made. Perhaps the days of strident booms are

over (let us trust so), and it may be that the bonanza opportunities are

for the most part buried in the past, together with the first advent of

the railroads, the discoveries of gold, and the exploitation of

agriculture, which gave them birth. But the West is getting her second

wind. The greater development is yet to come; the Panama Canal, with

quickened immigration, manufacturing, and a more thorough-going

cultivation of resources than ever in the past, spell that. What has

gone before is trivial and inconsequential in comparison with what is to

come. Pioneering is along different lines than in the old days, but it

still is pioneering, and the call of it is as insistent for ears

properly tuned.

I hear the tread of pioneers

Of cities yet to be,

The first low wash of waves where soon

Will roll a human sea.

The waves have wet the shores, but their true advance has scarce begun.

In the Oregon Country Out-Doors in Oregon, Washington, and California Together with some Legendary Lore, and Glimpses of the Modern West in the Making · 第 1 / 12 章