In one of these big drives we came to a little stream called Bitter

Creek, that flowed noiselessly down a ravine; and the first impulse was

joy. But when we got to the bank we found a notice stuck up warning us

to not let stock drink for the water was poisonous. It was as white as

milk with alkali; and we wondered if we had not struck the land that

flows with milk and honey--however, we saw no honey around. The horses

wanted to drink, but we carefully kept them from it. Taking a cup, I

resolved to taste the stuff, poison or no poison. I took but a little

sip, and was satisfied; for it was so strong that the skin came off my

lips and tongue wherever the water touched.

We came to the mountains at dark, and following a road that branched off

down a deep gulch to the right we traveled about two miles and opened

into a little basin covered with rich, green grass, and where the pure,

cool water bubbled from the foot of the mountain and ran off down the

hollow, glittering in the bright moonlight. Having just come out of the

scorching sands, and not having had a drink of good water for several

days, the camp was to us delightful; and the ponies, after quenching

their thirst from the crystal stream, rolled themselves upon the soft

lawn and went to grazing the tender grass as though well contented.

There were several other outfits there also; and by one of the wagons a

splendid, large, dark-bay stallion lay dead. The horse was very dry when

he came to Bitter Creek, and in spite of all warning his owner let him

drink; and though he took but a few swallows of the ugly water it did

the work.

We stayed here the next day to recruit our team, and killed a fine large

deer that came to drink at the water below; and the following morning

we took our last draught from the cool waters, and rather reluctantly

left the beautiful Antelope Springs to climb up the side of the mighty

mountain to the west. We wound slowly up the steep side, and it was

nearly night before we reached the top. When once there we could see for

miles around over the rugged, barren peaks and the dry, sandy plains of

Bitter Creek. The timber was but dwarfy bushes; the air was light and

cool, and the clouds swept by our feet along the crest of the mountain,

being sometimes so thick as to hide objects but a few yards away. We

looked down the other side, and it appeared to be miles to the bottom;

for the pines in the valley below looked like little twigs on a

hazel-brush. We descended but a short way when we came to a pretty

spring and stopped for the night; for our horses were very tired. The

next day at noon we reached the bottom; and as we looked back it seemed

as though we had come directly down from the heavens.

Here stood what is called Quakenasp Mountain; and from a cliff away up

in its side sprung a stream of clear water which came tumbling down over

the rocks like a cataract. We had heard this mountain spoken of as

being a great place for game; so, being remarkably fond of hunting, we

concluded to stop and try our hand. There were great chasms in the

mountain-side, and these were filled with thick growths of

quakenasp-trees and bushes, down among which the water flowed and where

the game harbored.

Leaving the Goodrich brothers in camp, Doc. and myself each strapped a

blanket upon his back, and, taking our big rifles, we started up the

mountain. We saw some sign, but no game until we reached the top.

Looking down the other side we saw a little branch running down a deep

hollow, and we descended. Here the banks were all cut up with the sharp

hoofs of the deer and elk, and the print of a single Indian moccasin

could be seen in the soft sand at the brink. The slopes were all covered

with sage-brush as thick as a man’s leg and as high as his breast, with

here and there a little pine-tree. I often think of it to-day as the

wildest-looking place I saw in all my travels.

Our camp lay just over the mountain, about four miles away; and as the

darkness was already gathering we concluded to stay here till morning

and shoot the game as it came to the water. So, wrapping ourselves in

our blankets, we lay down among the sage-brush at the roots of a little

pine sapling that stood on the bank of the stream and were dozing

sweetly when the piercing howl of a wolf, that appeared to be trailing

us down the mountain-side, broke the deep silence and roused us from our

slumbers. Almost instantly howling began in every glen and on every

hill-side; and the shrill notes echoed down the valley in which we lay.

We had always kept a fire when in bad wolf-countries before; but

thinking that there was no danger here we had avoided fire on account of

the game. And it was even dangerous to start a fire here among the dry

sage-brush without first carefully clearing a place; for, should the

fire break out, we would surely perish in the flames. What was to be

done must be done quickly, for the brush was crashing at our very sides

and the deafening cries rang in our ears. Fire-arms against such numbers

was a feeble defense; and there being no other tree that could be

reached in time, we both sprung into the slender sapling that we knew

was too weak to bear us up, just getting out of the way when several

large wolves reached the tree. Doc. being the lightest went up first,

and I stayed as close to the bottom as I could to take off as much

weight as possible. But, just as we had anticipated, the tree was too

weak; and, bending over, Doc. was left within six feet of the ground, so

that we were both almost within reach of our hungry foes. Thicker and

thicker they came and louder and louder they howled until they looked

like a large flock of sheep, and we could not hear each other speak.

They became so ravenous that they would spring up and clash their

foaming jaws together, sometimes within a few inches of us, and now and

then catching parts of our clothing, and blowing their warm breath in

our faces. It was a critical moment; and had that tree been high enough

I would have climbed up to the moon. But it was the best we could do;

and with our knives in our hands we struck them in the head as they

jumped up. The prey was so near that they lost themselves in anxiety and

rage, and would spring at the tree and gnaw like mad maniacs. This I was

careful to stop with a shot or two from my six-shooter; for should the

tree be weakened in the least we knew very well that it would make but

little difference to us who got to be president of the United States.

We fought them off in this way for several hours, and until there were

many killed and great numbers wounded. All of a sudden--as though their

attention had been attracted by something else--they ran off, howling,

down the stream. This was our opportunity; and leaping quickly to the

ground we grabbed our rifles and ran for another and larger tree that

stood two hundred yards away. We got about half way when we found that

they were coming back; and then there was a race for life. We thought

that the sage-brush were thicker than we had ever seen them; and it

appeared as though the tree were a mile off. On we went, lunging,

leaping, and falling, and the howling became too near to sound nice. The

tree is but a few yards away, yet the brush are rattling at our very

heels and the angry growl is plain to our ears.

The tree is reached, and we each spring for a limb and draw ourselves up

out of the very mouths of our enemies. For a moment we are safe. But,

great horror! Just at that moment Doc.’s limb broke, and he fell back

among the enraged throng. He alighted upon his feet, however, and

leaving his rifle fall and throwing his blanket from his shoulder the

attention of the wolves was slightly diverted, and, quick as a cat, he

sprung for another limb; but before he could draw himself out of the way

several large fellows firmly fastened their fangs in the legs of his

pants, and I thought the show was about over with him. They howled and

raged and tore, with their game in their very jaws; but Doc. held to the

limb with a death-grip, until I shot the wolves that held him down, and,

drawing himself safely up, he heaved a long sigh of relief and appeared

to be surprised to find that his legs and feet were all there, with but

a few light scars.

We were now safe; but the wind turning cold about midnight, our couch in

the tree was very unpleasant, indeed. The pack appeared to be bound to

have meat, and stayed round the tree, howling and gnawing, until near

daylight, when they began to disperse, and the noise died away among the

rifts and gorges. When all was quiet and the night was done we stepped

to the ground much relieved. The tree was terribly torn, and the ground

and brush all around were smeared with blood and foam. We found twenty

large wolves lying dead among the sage-brush, with wounds from knife

and bullet. Great pools of blood stood here and there, and the blankets

were hanging in shreds on the brush. We had had wolf-calls several

times; but that was the most disagreeable call we had ever experienced.

We did not think it worth our while to look for game in that part after

such a night of carousing, so taking our rifles we started up over the

mountain for camp. We got near the top, when hearing a racket among the

crags and bushes near by, we dodged behind a large rock and prepared for

the oncome. Soon a large elk dashed from a deep gorge, and started off

down the mountain-side, closely pursued by several great wolves. Quickly

resting our rifles against the rock, we sent our lead upon the elk; and

with a jerk of the head and a high leap in the air, he fell dead among

the rocks, and the wolves ran off in fright. It was the largest of the

species that I had ever seen, and the tips of its great horns were five

feet apart. Taking the tongue and saddle, we went down into camp and

found everything all right. We then had breakfast; and the soft flesh

was delicious. I shall never forget that night, and shall ever feel

thankful that our new comrades were left at camp; for otherwise, with

their inexperience, the result would certainly have been bitter to our

little camp.

Well, we were now ready, and again rolled on, crossing over a dry,

barren belt of country, and at length arrived at Green River, a little

town situated on the banks of a stream from which it takes its name. At

this place the stream is one hundred and fifty yards wide, and the

water, as indicated by the name, is really of a light-green color. It is

also very clear and deceiving, and rolls so rapidly that it is

considered a very dangerous stream. The evening that we arrived there

was a man upon the opposite shore with a large herd of horses that he

had raised in Idaho, and which he was driving East. They persistently

refused to enter the water; but after repeated attempts they were

started in. Seeing them drifting far down the stream, he swam his horse

in below, intending to keep them up. He was known to be an expert

swimmer; but the herd drifted against him, and in some way getting

dismounted, he was borne down beneath the surface; and the fishes that

sport beneath the green waters are probably to-day playing around his

white frame. His wife and two children witnessed the terrible sight from

the bank, and were almost distracted with grief; but the mad waters

rolled on, and they were widow and fatherless.

There was a whole gang of miserable-looking Arkansas emigrants, with

their ox-teams, and old wagons with tops patched with dish-rags, old

hats, etc., stopping upon the bank, and thinking themselves unable to

pay the ferryman’s bill of three dollars per wagon, were debating what

to do to get beyond. The price _was_ exorbitant; and finding the

ferryman a very independent gentleman, I jumped on a pony and rode into

the stream to try its depth. The waters were very clear, and I found the

depth to be very irregular,--some places being very deep, and others but

three and four feet. I was very careful in picking my route and marking

it by objects upon the bank, and at length went back for the wagon. We

passed ropes under the bed and lifted it up to the top rings in the

standards, and after putting the stoutest horse on the upper side, and

tying a couple of stones to the axles, we drove in. This was an anxious

moment for the Arkansas emigrants, who lined themselves upon the bank

like a lot of mud-turtles in a morning-sun, and watched every turn. We

got off the route a little a few times, and the horses could hardly keep

their feet in the deep water, but we arrived safely beyond. A loud cheer

went up from the Arkansas side just as we landed; and though the

ferryman became very clever, and offered his services very reasonably,

the oxen were yoked, the little ones loaded up, and in they came in our

course. It was an interesting sight, and we stayed to see it. The oxen

refused obedience, and were hard to manage in the deep waters, and

several times some of the wagons drifted into deep places and the water

came up in the bed, driving the big fat corn-fed girls to the

side-boards to cry for help; and the number of little fellows, as they

stuck their unkempt heads out from under the cover of many colors,

looked like eagles’-nests floating on the water. The old he-Arkansaws,

however, stayed by the teams, and one by one they wound up on the bank.

When they were all safely landed, it was amusing to see the old fellows

going around their wagons as though looking if any were missing, while

the little ones jumped out in the sand and sported around in the sun

like little wet dogs.

We then moved on, and the next day camped at the edge of a pretty

forest. The following notice was stuck up on a tree: “Warning! Three

hundred Indians in this vicinity.” We kept a sharp lookout; and though

we saw some of them, we had no trouble.

We were now traveling on the old California emigrant-road; and every few

miles we would find stones or boards stuck up at the road-side with

almost obliterated inscriptions of “Dora Sires, killed by Indians,” or,

died of fever, etc., etc.,--some of the dates being as far back as 1850.

We chatted with several old Forty-niners in our rounds, and they told us

many interesting incidents in their journey through the wide, wild

regions. They say they used to go in large companies for their

protection against savages and wild beasts. And to maintain order among

themselves, they took their judges and lawyers along, and summary

justice was meted out to the offenders as they went along. Sometimes the

sentence was death; and in this case the prisoner dangled from the limb

of a tree by the road-side.

Passing along we came to Evanston, a little town on the Union Pacific

Railroad, and near the Utah line. Here we entered Echo Canon, down

through which ran the railway--in fact this being the only way the

insurmountable heights can be crossed. This canon is far noted for its

grandeur, which in no case has been exaggerated. After we had gone down

into it a few miles, we found the walls almost perpendicular, and from

eight hundred to one thousand feet high; and the great eagles that flew

from crag to crag above our heads looked as small as swallows. Upon

speaking here the volume was greatly increased, and an ordinary

conversation echoed far down the canon. Hence the name, “Echo Canon.”

There is a little stream running in at the mouth of the canon, and being

fed all the way down by springs that roll their waters from the cliffs

above, it increases to quite a creek. At some places the canon is very

narrow, and the stream taking up nearly the whole way, the rail and

wagon roads are forced to wind along the side of the mountains, often

several hundred feet above. The road at these places has required a

great deal of labor to make it passable, and is so narrow that should a

wheel get six inches out of the way, team, wagon and all would roll down

the steep side and be dashed to pieces against the crags and pines, and

finally thud in the waters far below. There are places all along, a mile

or two apart, where teams can pass, and it is the duty of each outfit to

keep a guard ahead; but in case outfits _do_ meet, one wagon has to be

taken apart to let the other pass. Fierce contests sometimes arise as to

who shall undo. At these places look out for the toll.

There are many of these great gulches and canons in the mountains, and

much of mountain-travel is done over lofty, dangerous roads. Sometimes

the track winds around the mountain several times, and then runs along

the crest for several miles; and to look down into the swimming space,

the dark, deep passes appear like ways into the center of the earth. I

have often--through curiosity--climbed above timber-line upon the side

of the mountain, where all was bleak and rocky, and looked down the

steep, pine-decked slopes. There are often rocks weighing many tons just

hanging on the steep sides, and can be pried loose with little effort;

and it is amusing to start them down the mountain-side and see them mow

the pines as though they were straw, leaving a swath like a reaper, and

thudding heavily in the grassy hollows below. At lonely places in some

of the roads that run through dark, deep canons, there are bridges built

over streams and gorges by private individuals, who live in little forts

by the way and extort the most exorbitant rates for crossing over. They

are always well armed, and travelers are forced to pay; for there is no

way to get around, and to travel back over the steep, rocky road they

can not think of. There is, however, once in a while a person who

understands the mountain tricks; and when _they_ come this way there are

some lively times in the narrow passes; and doubtless many a man has

sent up his soul from the rifts among the rocks by these lonely

mountain-bridges.

All persons _en route_ for the Pacific by way of the Union Pacific

should keep a sharp lookout for Echo Canon and view its grandeur, as the

train winds slowly down between its towering walls.

Coming to Echo City, a little mining-town in the canon, we branched off

up Weber Canon, then up Silver Creek Canon toward Park City, where the

Ontario Mine, the largest and richest silver-mine in Utah, is situated.

When we were yet twelve miles off, the stream that comes down from the

mines through the canon was so impregnated with rubbish from the mines

and quartz-mill, as to be unfit for use and to have a silver cast. Hence

the name, “Silver Creek.” Winding up the steep, rough canon, we at

length came to Park City,--which is but a few little log and board

shanties stuck among the rocks against the mountain,--and learned that

it was just a half mile up to the main mine. The way was up a gorge that

was so steep and rough as to be almost inaccessible; and when we arrived

we were tired and our team was well jaded. We did not like to leave them

below. Here stood a large frame building; and in this the shaft was

sunk. The shaft is about six feet square, and there was a large engine

to work the windlass to let the miners up and down to and from work, and

also to haul up the quartz. We found the superintendent to be a very

clever gentleman; and he promised us that if we would wait till noon,

when the miners had gone to dinner, he would let us down the shaft. This

we gladly assented to, and we were accordingly let down into the bowels

of the earth, five hundred feet. Here we found several chambers

branching out, each high as a man’s head, and ten or twelve feet square.

Four large engines were standing here for the purpose of pumping out the

water should a vein be struck. Engineers stand ready at their posts; for

they say water often bursts in the mine in such quantities as to cut off

the escape of the miners should there be no pumps. This, then, is what

is called flooding the mines. The metal is in hard rocks, called quartz;

and these rocks run in veins through the earth, usually two or three

feet square. Sometimes the veins run near the surface, and at other

times, as in this case, far below. Old experienced miners can generally

tell when there is metal below. The ceiling is very heavily timbered up,

and torches were hung all around. The miners have torches fixed on their

caps. The leads in this step had run out, but there was another shaft

running down still a hundred feet deeper, where the miners were working;

but we were not permitted to go there. After the foreman had shown us

all around, he gave each of us a piece of quartz as big as a fist, and

we all stepped upon the elevator to go up. The light at the top of the

shaft looked like a star. All ready, and the foreman pulled a rope

which rang a bell up by the engineer, and away we shot up the dark

shaft, and soon stood in daylight. There is a saw-mill here, and the

engines are fired with wood. There are several other shafts in the

surrounding hills; but this is the main one. Four bars of silver, worth

two millions of dollars, were sent to the mint at one time from this

place.

We now went down to the quartz-mill that stood at the foot of the

mountain. This is an immense structure; and the pounding and roaring of

the ponderous machinery can be heard a long way off. We were permitted

to go all through this mill; and though the dust and noise were very

disagreeable, we took a careful look at everything. The quartz is thrown

into a huge, long trough, and is mashed by powerful iron stampers that

are worked up and down by machinery. It is then thrown in at the top of

a big furnace; and at a certain time an iron-cart is run under the

furnace-grate, and the red metal is stirred down. It is dumped out close

by to cool. This is very hot work; and the men doing it wear sponges

over their mouths and nostrils to save their lungs. There is then an

apartment with a platform about four feet high upon either side, with

steps leading up. Upon either platform there are six tubs, two feet high

and four feet in diameter. A small stream of water runs from pipes into

each tub, in which some kind of machinery whirls round. The dust, as it

comes from the furnace, is thrown into these tubs, and the clean metal

comes out below, looking like quicksilver, and floats in pans upon a

strong fluid solution. When the pans are full it is skimmed off, and

then melted and run into bars. This process of melting is called

smelting.

There are different _kinds_ of mines. The _quartz_-mine, already spoken

of, where the metal, like fine sand, is mixed all through hard rock; the

_placer_-mine, where the metal is found among gravel and sand; and the

_sluice_-mine, where the metal is in the bed and on the banks of a

stream. Of course, some are very rich, while others are so poor that it

does not pay to work them.

The sand and gravel from the placer-mine are hauled to water, and there

the metal is washed out. This is called panning, and is spoken of as

panning out “rich” or “poor.”

In the _sluice_ or _gulch_ mine the men dig the dirt into the water and

mash up the clods, throw out the stones, etc., and the dirt all washes

down while the metal sinks to the bottom. When there is considerable on

the bottom, the stream is turned and the gold is taken up, put in

troughs, and washed out as in placer-mines.

There is great gold and silver excitement in the mountains all the time,

and many fortunes have been made, while, on the other hand, many have

been lost.

There are companies in the mountains who employ miners who wish to

prospect--and have nothing to go on--upon these conditions: They will

furnish picks and shovels and grub stakes, and if the miners strike

anything they are to give half to the company. The expenses of the

company in these bargains are not very heavy; and many of them have made

large fortunes from a pick and shovel and the little sack of provisions

that they hung upon the back of an old, crippled miner.

It takes a great deal of money to work a mine payingly, especially a

_quartz_-mine; and often a poor miner is compelled to sell a rich find

for very little. Rich companies watch these opportunities, to take the

advantage.

In the summer-season, when the snows are melted down, parties of one,

two, and three persons, with tools and provisions packed on

burros,--and sometimes on cattle,--are roaming all through the

mountains,--down the slopes and up the gorges, from the pine-forests

below to the barren, snow-capped peaks above,--toiling in the day-time

and by moonlight, greedy and anxious for gold.

There are many inexperienced persons going into the mountains every year

to prospect; and though the old miners have many tests and a great

knowledge as to the sign of ore, a greenhorn often makes a find in his

very tracks; for the old miner passes over, depending greatly on his

ability to tell almost at sight, while the greenhorn comes along turning

every curious-looking stone and digging wherever anything glitters. The

following are a few such instances: In the year 1878 two brothers named

Sisson, living at Granada, were at Pueblo court as witnesses. They

testified in the forenoon, and taking a pick and shovel, in the

afternoon, they started out among the hills toward Pike’s Peak to

prospect. When they were four or five miles from town their attention

was attracted by the peculiar color of the rocks and gravel on the slope

of a little hill; and though they knew nothing whatever about _mining_,

they thought there must be metal there. So with pick and shovel they dug

away, and by the moonlight they still worked. In the morning they were

satisfied that they had struck rich ore, though they had dug but eight

feet deep. One of them stayed there and the other went to town to

report. That very evening the boys were offered twenty thousand dollars

for their find. This place had been trod over many times, and the pick

and spade had turned the soil on all the surrounding slopes.

One of the best mines at _Leadville_, also, was discovered by a poor,

ignorant Swiss, who took his tools on his back, to make or break. Some

miners, while prospecting among the hills, were attracted by fresh dirt,

and going to the place they found the old Swiss sitting in the bottom of

a hole seven or eight feet deep, with his head upon his hands, and so

weak that he could hardly stand. He had run out of grub, and, knowing

that he had made a find, he was afraid to leave it lest some other

person should get _possession_; and thus he was starving to death. This

proved to be an immense fortune for the old fellow; and, wiser than

_most_ miners, he was content to take good and let better alone; and he

sailed for his motherland, where the crystal lakes nestle in the Alpine

folds, there to rest and enjoy his treasure.

Finds are continually being made; but the fortune comes so suddenly that

the miner, like the gambler, usually spends freely, and is anxious to

try his luck still further. Claims are often jumped by other parties,

and some bitter fighting is sometimes done; for if there is one thing

besides a man’s own life that he will shed his blood for, it is the

glittering gold.

Miners receive from five to seven dollars per day, and furnish their own

tools. It is certainly hard and dangerous work to dig in the mine so far

below, and thus seeing but little sunlight the whole season through;

but, strange to say, there are men who have crippled and ruined

themselves in the dark gold-dens, and though hobbling on crutches are

not yet content to live anywhere _but_ where the pick rings against the

rocks, and the exciting cry of gold is heard.

Whenever the cry of a rich find is raised, it goes like wild-fire

through the mountain-towns, and often far out, and people rush like

maniacs to the scene--some to mine, some to haul, etc. Whether the alarm

is true or false, numbers arrive at the scene. There are persons having

good teams watching these breaks, and as soon as the first cry is raised

they load their wagons with tobaccos, liquors, flour, feed, shoes,

blankets, etc., etc., and hastening to the ground they cut down some

pines and stake off a claim, and build a little store-house. They get

their own prices for goods; and should the cry be _false_, he can easily

sell out to persons who come to _see_; but should the find be _rich_, he

has his store-house where he can make his _fortune_. Besides, the vein

might run under his very claim. Persons are making _fortunes_ at this

to-day; and Leadville is an example. Persons who staked off their little

claims among the trees on the mountain-side when the discovery was first

made, can to-day count their wealth in large pieces of silver and gold.

Park City is forty miles from Salt Lake; and anxious to see the great

historical valley, as well as the home of a people who are the world’s

curiosity, we pulled out in that direction.

CHAPTER III.

View of Salt Lake Valley and City--Tabernacle--History of the

Mormons--Joe Smith--Came to Kirtland, Ohio--Brigham Young

Converted--Located at Independence, Missouri--Located at Nauvoo,

Illinois--Joe and Hiram Smith Killed--Emigrated to Council

Bluffs--Came to Salt Lake--Trouble with the Government--Mormon

Theology.

Winding down a deep gulch, through which runs a mountain-stream, we came

out upon the plateau that overlooks the great Salt Lake Valley from the

south. It is a scene of rare natural beauty. Beyond and across, the

plain spreads out from five to ten miles, with pretty farm-houses and

herds of cattle. To the north it was lost in the dim distance,--the

whole flat almost as a floor and sparkling with irrigating canals, and

walled upon either side by hills that mount to the snow-line, and out

from which flow the cool, sparkling waters that make this once-desert

valley blossom under the hand of industry.

The city, but a short way to the north, is regularly and handsomely laid

out, with many fine buildings, and is filled with thick gardens of

trees and flowers that give it a fairy-land aspect. No internal city of

the continent lies in such a field of beauty.

Water is conveyed from a mountain-stream down to the city by a canal;

and bright, sparkling pools course freely and constantly down its paved

gutters upon either side of every street, keeping the shade-trees alive

and growing, supplying drink for animals and water for household

purposes, and delightfully cooling the summer-air.

The trees, at the proper season, are almost always loaded with the

finest fruit; and the soil is favorable to the small grains. Forty and

fifty bushels of wheat to the acre is an ordinary crop; and it is said

that over _ninety_ bushels have been raised.

No one seems poor. No beggar is seen in the streets. No prostitute lives

here; and there are but few saloons in town. When a drunken man is seen,

he is almost invariably a miner or a soldier. The people are far more

civil and quiet than is usual in these western parts.

Great Salt Lake is a very great curiosity. It is about one hundred and

forty miles long and from seventy to eighty wide, and is a vast

collection of brine. The water seems to be saturated with salt to its

utmost capacity of holding it in solution, indicating the neighborhood

of great deposits of mineral salt. Where the wind dashes the water upon

the beach the salt collects in such quantities as to be conveniently

shoveled into carts for domestic use. It is also procured by

evaporation--five bucketfuls of water leaving one of salt.

The lake encompasses several islands, with high, mountainous peaks,

among the largest of which is Church Island, situated so near the

eastern shore as to be accessible for grazing purposes, for which it is

extensively used. The air is wonderfully pure and bright. Rain seldom

falls in the valley, though storms occur in the mountains almost daily.

A cloud comes up in the western hills, rolls along the crest and

threatens the city with a deluge, but then breaks into wind and showers,

and seems to run along the hill-tops and sail away eastward into the

snowy range.

While delighted to find the people all apparently so well circumstanced,

we were also amused at their many curious peculiarities. There is one

block in the city called “Temple Block.” This is surrounded by a high

and powerful stone wall. Inside of this wall stands the mighty granite

temple (yet unfinished), and also the tabernacle. The tabernacle is

built of _adobes_ made from the blue clay from the mountain-foot. It is

round, about eighty feet in diameter, with walls about thirty feet high.

It is splendidly seated, and has a large gallery. There are large double

doors all around, leaving columns of wall about ten feet between the

doors. In warm weather these doors are all thrown open, and the building

is a cool, delightful place. At one end stands the next to the largest

pipe-organ in the world; next is a beautiful platform, which the band

and choir of about seventy-five persons occupy; then comes the large,

decorated, and comfortable chair in which the president sits; then the

long sofa for the twelve apostles; then the pulpit for the ministers;

and then comes the congregation, who usually throng the house. The choir

is composed of cultured and beautiful singers; and sweeter music than I

heard in that old tabernacle never met my ears. After the preaching is

done and the songs are sung, the president arises and prophesies, and

the apostles cry out, “Amen.” The fictitious Mormon Bible that they

claim was found by Joe Smith in Mormon Hill has been changed and

modified from time to time, and to-day they preach from nearly the same

Bible as ours. They have services every Sabbath; and all finding it

possible, from the tottering infant to the aged and gray, gather in to

hear the word and listen to the prophecies. They take sacrament every

Sabbath; but water is used instead of wine. I was in one of their

thronged congregations when the cup went around, and when it reached me

my delight at the thought of getting a good big swallow of old Mormon

wine was blighted by a cup of something that I had been drinking ever

since I was a drinker. Nevertheless, it went pretty well in warm

weather. We happened to be there when the body of Rev. Joseph Stanley--a

Mormon missionary who was killed in Georgia--arrived for interment, and

we had the pleasure of hearing the services. The sixth chapter of the

Revelation of St. John was read, and the text was taken from the

thirty-fourth verse of the twenty-third chapter of St. Matthew. The

remarks were all tinged with vindication; and the prophet indulged

freely in threatening wrath upon their opposers. There were about

fourteen thousand people present, and the strong language of the

dignitaries excited them to such a degree that I tried to look just as

much like a Mormon as possible.

There is a large church-building in which to store away the property

belonging to the church; and from the poorest maiden at the wash-tub to

the wealthiest merchant of the city, one tenth of everything that is

made must be surrendered to the church. It is amusing to see how

cheerfully the farmers trot off to the store-house with every tenth

bushel of apples, or load of hay, or grain. This store is managed and

run by the dignitaries, who dispose of the grains and fruits, and handle

the silver and gold. And not being compelled to ever produce a

balance-sheet, nor any account whatever, they have the funds entirely in

their own fingers; and hence their fine mansions and flowery beds of

ease. The poor ignorant dupes submit to all this, and appear to think

that they are paving their way into heaven by lavishing luxuries upon

their priesthood.

At the other end of the valley stands the city of Ogden, which is about

half as large as Salt Lake City, and not nearly so beautiful. About one

fifth of the persons here are not Mormons, while at the other end there

are very few who do not nestle in the folds of the church. The Central

Pacific Railroad passes through Ogden, and sends off a branch called the

Utah Central down to Salt Lake City.

The lake lies several miles from the city, and there are several fine

bathing-houses on its shores. These are reached by narrow-gauge

railroads; and during the bathing-season great loads of gleeful boys and

girls can be seen most every evening riding down to the beach to bathe.

The rise of Mormondom has been so miraculous, and their superstitions

are so curious and numerous, that a brief sketch of their career from

the finding of the Bible by Joe Smith, together with a part of their

theology, may be in place here, and will doubtless be interesting to

many of my readers. The following is what, with care and pains, I have

been able to collect from interviews, records, and other sources:

Joe Smith, jr., the putative father of Mormonism and the Church of

Latter-day Saints, was born in Sharon, Windsor County, Vermont, December

13, 1805. When he was seventeen years old he found a curious stone in

the dirt thrown from a well. It was the shape of a child’s foot, of a

whitish, glassy appearance, though opaque, and resembling quartz. He

thought a great deal of the stone, and asserted the gift and power with

it at his eyes of revealing things past and things to come. The

discoveries soon became too dazzling for his eyes in daylight, and he

had to shade his vision by looking at the stone in his hat. There are

fools in all ages; and Joe had his believers, who often came to him to

find out where lost or stolen property was. He always charged; and

though there was no reality in his pretentions, he succeeded in keeping

the eyes of certain dupes covered. He would tell them where there was a

large chest of money buried, and get them to digging, and _he_ would

stand by with his stone; but every time, just as they were almost to the

treasure, the enchantment would be broken by some one speaking, or

otherwise, and though he never found any money, they still believed. He

made his dupes believe that while he was engaged in secret prayer in the

wilderness an angel appeared and told him that all his sins had been

forgiven, and proclaiming further that all the religious denominations

were believing false doctrines; that none of them were acceptable of God

as of his church and kingdom; and also promising him that the true

doctrine and fullness of the gospel should at some future time be

revealed to him. He was told that the American Indians were a remnant of

the Israelites; that their prophetic records regarding the last days

were buried at a certain spot; that this spot was made known him, and

him only, and that if he kept faithful he should be the chosen prophet

to translate them to the world. A short time afterward he had another

astonishing vision; and he was commanded, upon a secretly-fixed day and

hour, to go alone to a certain spot revealed to him by an _angel_, and

there take out of the earth a metallic book of great antiquity, which

was of immortal importance to the world, and which he said was a record

of mystic letters of the long-lost tribes of Israel; that no human being

besides himself could see it and live, and that the power to translate

it to the nations of the earth was given to him only as the chosen

servant of God.

Smith’s dupes and relations gave the report a wide circulation; and

accordingly, when the appointed hour came, assuming his practical air of

mystery, he took in his hand his money-digging spade and a large napkin,

and went off alone into the solitude of the forest. In three hours he

returned with his sacred charge concealed within the folds of the

napkin. He again warned his friends of the fatal consequences of looking

at it, and a strong chest was procured and the charge kept under lock

and key. He said that as he was digging for the treasure, he was

confronted by ten thousand devils, gathered there with their menacing,

sulphurous flame and smoke, to deter him from his purpose. The sacred

treasure was never seen by mortal eyes save those of the anointed.

About the year 1826 it became expedient to have a new revelation. The

veritable existence of the book was certified to by eleven witnesses of

Smith’s own choosing; and wonderful stories and predictions followed in

regard to the future light and destiny of the world. The spot from

whence the book is said to have been taken is on the summit of a hill at

Manchester, New York, which has ever since been called Mormon Hill. The

book, after the new revelation, was represented by Smith and his echoes

as consisting of metallic leaves or plates resembling gold, bound

together by three rings running through one edge of them and opening

like a book. Smith translated the book and a certain school-master did

the writing; and the new Bible went to print in the summer of 1830.

Here was the organization of the first Mormon Church. Though great

efforts and impositions had been practiced upon the people, the scheme

was generally ridiculed and the converts were few and of the most

ignorant of the race; and Smith coming to realize that a prophet was

without honor in his own country, he, with his most fanatic followers,

began to talk of going on a mission into the western country to convert

the Lamanites (meaning the Indians). In the year 1830 or 1831 they

started on their western expedition, stopping at Mentor, Ohio, where

lived a few Mormon converts.

Near this place is _Kirtland_, where they began a series of meetings;

and one hundred persons were added to the fold in a short time.

Kirtland, from about this period, became the head-quarters of the

Mormons, where their church and colony were thoroughly organized and

temporarily established.

The next interest was to disseminate to the people the newly-revealed

latter-day religion. The system of missionary labor was put in active

requisition. The cause was pressed with zeal and effect. The trumpet of

“the true gospel” was sounded to the gentiles. The superstitious and

ignorant were captivated, and respectable men and women quaked amid the

scenes. Conversions were multiplied and multitudes rushed into the new

Zion as if believing the last days were at hand in sober verity. Thus

was the Mormon Church matured and the colony of the saints speedily

enlarged.

At length, finding himself surrounded and sustained by large and

increasing numbers,--including some persons of ample pecuniary

means,--Smith tried a bold venture upon their credulity in his own

behalf. This was a revelation which he communicated to his disciples, to

the effect that they should “immediately build a house for the prophet,

in which he might live and translate.” It was in 1832 or 1833; and the

command was cheerfully accepted and obeyed.

Another revelation, alike successful, shortly followed, commanding that

“my chosen Joseph shall not labor for a living.” Though the impostor was

scorned by intelligent people, his followers regarded him as almost

deserving of adoration; and he was enabled to revel in whatever luxury

was most agreeable to his vulgar taste and ambition. His power was now

next to omnipotent in Mormondom.

Brigham Young was converted and joined the Mormons at Kirtland in the

year 1833. Like Smith, he was a native of Vermont, being his senior by

four years. Brigham was shrewd, bold, and resolute, possessing an almost

intuitive knowledge of men. He soon attracted the attention of his

brethren, whom he swayed by his strong, electric will, and was

recognized as a man born to rule. He was soon ordained one of the quorum

of twelve apostles that had been organized. He preached with success;

and from that day till his death his influence and power among the

Mormons was resistless.

Smith was constantly receiving new revelations; and at length he

discovered that those who had property were to pay all their surplus

money into the hands of the bishop for the building of Zion, for the

benefit of the priesthood, and to pay the debts of the presidency of the

church. “And ever _after_ those who shall thus tithe shall pay one tenth

of all their interests annually; and this shall be a standing law unto

them forever for my holy priesthood, saith the Lord.” This revelation

was also received and cheerfully obeyed. A temple was erected at

Kirtland at a cost of fifty thousand dollars, by contributions in money

and labor obtained from the saints through the resistless power of

Smith’s revelation process.

Mormonism, however, became distasteful to the unconverted people of

Ohio, and particularly disgusting to the inhabitants near Kirtland.

People were familiar with the source and history of the golden-bible

scheme, and scorned the impostor Smith beyond public tolerance. Smith

now saw the necessity of another shift, and Jackson County, Missouri,

was chosen for the new abode. A large tract of land was purchased here,

and a town-site was laid out and called Independence. A division of the

Mormons moved here, and the work of up-building was vigorously

prosecuted in the year 1834. In 1836 the Mormon population consisted of

about fifteen hundred, and the town was well advanced and business and

printing-houses were established.

Trouble arose here again with the citizens outside of the church, and

the saints were accused of stealing cattle and other property and of

being connected with counterfeiting gangs and various other criminal

offenses. A meeting of the surrounding citizens was called to consider

the subject of ridding themselves of the source of their annoyance, and

it was resolved to expel the Mormons from the state. Riotous scenes

followed, and several persons were killed. The state militia was called

out. Smith armed his followers and determined to resist any reprimand

whatever. But they were too weak; and the Prophet Joseph and his brother

Hiram, with some forty others of the party, were imprisoned in the

county jail. This ended the struggle; and the Mormons finally agreed

with the state authorities that they would permanently leave the state.

General Clark, commanding the militia in this affair, dispatched to

Governor Boggs, in 1838, as follows: “There is no crime, from treason

down to petit larceny, but these people, or a majority of them, have

been guilty of; all, too, under the counsel of Joe Smith, jr., the

prophet. They have societies formed under the most binding covenants and

horrid oaths to plunder, burn, and murder, and divide the spoils for the

use of the church.”

The governor answered that the ringleaders of the rebellion should be

made an example of; and, if necessary to the public peace, the Mormons

should be exterminated or expelled from the state.

The Mormons could no longer withstand the tide of opposition, and they

concluded to quit Missouri with all haste. Their condition was now equal

to the scattered tribes of their Babylonish ancestors, and before the

close of the year 1839 they had all left Missouri,--some returning to

Ohio; but the body, crossing the river into Illinois, established

themselves in Hancock County, at a place which they called Nauvoo. In

1840 Nauvoo became the chief seat of Mormonism; and they were generally

welcomed by the people of the surrounding country as persecuted exiles.

Smith, seeing the sympathy in their behalf, took advantage of the

situation and urged his doctrine; and vast numbers were converted.

Meantime Young and others had been sent as foreign missionaries to

spread the gospel, and had received vivid encouragement in the East. In

the year 1841 Young shipped several hundred of the faithful from

Liverpool to New York, for the promised land; and organizations were

left in England, Scotland, and Wales.

Nauvoo sprung up; Mormonism was more than itself again; and things went

on smoothly. Smith had another vision, and was told that the saints

should build for him a fine house. This command, like all other

communications from the same source, was accepted as of heavenly

authenticity. By his tithing process he had amassed a fortune estimated

at a million of dollars; and he now reveled in luxury, played the

gentleman, weighed two hundred and twenty pounds, had forty wives, and

his children could not be enumerated with any accuracy.

The revelation in favor of polygamy, however, was for years withheld as

a secret from all but the _dignitaries_ of the church. This

interpolation of polygamy into what had been received by the disciples

of Mormonism as their established religious system caused great

embarrassment in the church--for it was repugnant to the teachings of

Smith’s own Bible; and being also by the law of Illinois declared

bigamy, and punishable by heavy fine and imprisonment in the

penitentiary, the trouble was still augmented. The Illinois people were

intolerant and restive in view of the vices and criminalities in various

forms ascribed to the latter-day hypocrites. They were necessarily the

sources of ill feeling and bitter hate between the communities, and from

this time forward there was found no peace for the wicked. Charges of

licentiousness, adultery, seduction, theft, dishonesty, and crimes in

greater variety than ever were brought against the doomed leaders and

their bigoted followers. Slander suits were commenced on one side and

criminal proceedings were instituted on the other; and litigation

followed litigation _pro_ and _con_.

Attempts to arrest Smith and other dignitaries of the church were

resisted by military power. The charge of treason was brought against

the offending saints. Mormon defense against the Illinois authority was

persisted in, and General Joe Smith, and his brother Hiram, at the head

of the Nauvoo legion, opposed the state militia which had been called

out to enforce obedience to the law. The aspect was threatening; and the

governor, anxious to avoid the terrible slaughter impending, proposed to

the Smiths a surrender as prisoners to the sheriff and the disbandment

of the legion, as their only course of safety for their own lives and

for their city. This proposal was at length acceded to--the governor

promising them protection against violence from the excited populace on

their way to the jail and during their imprisonment. Accordingly, the

legal arrests were made; and the Smiths, with Elder John Taylor and Dr.

Richards, were conveyed to the Carthage jail. Pursuant to the governor’s

stipulation, the jail was placed under a military guard to protect the

prisoners against the known existence of an avengeful feeling,

particularly existing on the part of those whose domestic sanctums were

alleged to have been invaded by the cruel doctrine of polygamy. The

prisoners were in the jail but a few days when the guard was reduced by

desertion, and in the afternoon of the 24th of June, 1844, the remnant

of the guard were overpowered by a mob two hundred disguised and armed

men, bent upon summary vengeance for their wrongs. The doors were burst

open, the inmates were fired upon, and the Smiths were killed, Elder

Taylor severely wounded, and Dr. Richards escaped to tell the tale.

Great excitement prevailed, and Nauvoo was in commotion. The governor

hastened to the scene, and measures were taken to prevent a general

attack. He was incensed because the pledge he gave to the prisoners had

been violated, and told the Mormons to defend themselves in the best way

until he could send them protection. But further violence was happily

averted. The immediate effect upon the Mormons of this appalling

assassination, was to throw a halo of glory around his character as a

martyr who had sealed with his blood the truth of his divine

pretensions. The soil of Mormonism had been fertilized by the blood of

the Smiths, and a church founded in falsehood and hypocrisy has been

strengthened, if not perpetuated, by its supporting influence. Indeed,

it is rational to believe that but for the opportunity thus afforded to

fasten in enslaved, superstitious minds the impression of “martyrdom” of

their patron saint, Mormonism would ere this have had its everlasting

fall.

Brigham Young was ambitious and very shrewd; and standing very high in

the estimation of his people, he was now unanimously elected to the

presidency of the church, and maintained a despotic sway. In the course

of a year or two, the people of Illinois determined to drive the whole

tribe from the state; and seeing the necessity, Young and his counsel

decided to send a company to seek a new home in the West. The

emigration commenced in February, 1846, and in August they arrived at a

selected place upon the unoccupied prairies near Council Bluffs. Here

they remained in tents during the next winter. Here the news of the

Mexican War reached them; and Young apprehending ultimate conflict with

the Mexican authorities, deemed it essential to be on good terms with

the United States. Quick to perceive his opportunity, he sent an agent

to Washington to tender a battalion to the Government. It was accepted,

and Young received twenty thousand dollars from the Government for his

services.

Young, with a company of followers, then went upon another exploring

expedition; and selecting Salt Lake valley for the location of their

future Zion, the saints were all informed, and in the year 1847 four

thousand Mormons arrived in the valley.

Young had not yet been accepted by the church as prophet, seer, and

revelator, in the full celestial sense, as was the martyr Smith; and as

soon as re-organization was secured, he called a meeting to consider the

matter. He arose and solemnly professed communication with the spirit

of Prophet Joseph; and going through with a series of impressive

mimicries of his predecessor in his peculiar style of adroitness, he

completely convinced his audience, and ever since this successful

experiment it is believed that the mantle of Joseph fell upon Brigham;

and by a vote he was declared the “Prophet of the Lord.”

Utah Territory was organized by act of Congress in the year 1850, and

Young received the United States appointment of territorial governor for

Utah. Large accessions of emigrants, sent forward by missionaries,

rapidly increased the Mormon numbers in Salt Lake; and in the year 1853,

the corner-stone of the temple at Salt Lake City was laid. About two

thousand people were present, and the ceremonies were in the highest

style of Mormon grandeur. Governor Young made the leading address on the

occasion, saying that the saints were about to make their third attempt

to build a temple to the Lord, and asking his followers to pay their

tithes in cheerful promptitude, promising God’s blessing on them who do

his will. He declared that the very ground where he stood had been

revealed to him for seven years past as the place where the temple

should stand. The building is an immense structure, and is calculated to

seat eighteen thousand people. It is being built of granite taken from

the mountain at the side of the valley, and is yet unfinished. It is a

magnificent structure, of which the saints are very proud.

Soon anti-Mormons began to settle in the valleys east of the Sierra

Nevada for the purposes of mining and stock-raising; and the Mormons

becoming alarmed, determined to expel them _vi et armis_. Both parties

armed and fortified themselves; but the Mormons soon saw their folly and

gave up the scheme. Trouble is, however, continually brewing between the

Mormons and anti-Mormons wherever they meet; and that they will never

and can never live together in peace under one government is inevitable.

The conflict that took place between them in Ohio, Missouri, Illinois,

and Iowa, and is now going on in Utah, ought to be enough to convince

any intelligent man of this fact. The Mormons _themselves_ acknowledge

it; and so long as they adhere to their present belief,--that an

absolute theocracy is the only government under which they _can_ and

_should_ live,--they never will be loyal to our government and

countrymen; and hence their hostility to our institutions and people,

and their inflexible devotion to their own. Their settlements lie in the

great pathway which leads to the Pacific country, and they have been

standing a lion in the path,--_encouraging_ the savages, if not _aiding_

them, in immigrant massacres. The Mormons had become so insolent that it

was thought best in 1857 to send troops to Utah with the civil officers

appointed to that territory.

In 1863, Stephen H. Harding was appointed governor of Utah. Congress

passed an act to punish and prevent the practice of polygamy in the

territories; and they, considering the act unconstitutional, refused to

obey it as law. Governor Harding declaring in favor of the act, the

pent-up fires of saintly wrath now broke forth. A meeting was again

called, and in his enthusiastic way Young denounced Governor Harding as

a black-hearted abolitionist, and asking his people if they would

recognize him as their _governor_. And being answered no, that _he_ was

their governor, he said, “Yes, I am your governor; and if he attempt to

interfere in my business, woe, woe be unto him.” A committee was

appointed to wait upon the governor and request him to resign his office

and leave the territory. In reply, Harding said that as this was a land

of prophecy, he too would prophesy. “If, while in the discharge of my

duties, one drop of my blood be shed by your ministers of vengeance, it

will be _avenged_; and not one stone nor _adobe_ in this city will be

left upon another, I have now done, and you understand me.”

No acts of violence followed, and terms of mutual conciliation were

effected. This is Utah, and these are the Mormons. From year to year

there is trouble; and at the _present_--Brigham Young having died

several years ago--there is contention between the Government and the

Nauvoo legion.

The theology of the saints is subject to change, by revelation, at the

caprice of the prophet. The following is part of what they believe:

There are many gods of both sexes; but to us there is but one God--the

Father of mankind and Creator of the earth. God is in the form of man.

He has a body of spiritual matter. He resides in the center of the

earth, near the planet Kolob. This planet revolves on its axis once in a

thousand of our years, and one revolution of the Kolob is a day to the

Almighty. The Holy Spirit is a subtile fluid like electricity, and

pervades all space. By its agency all miracles--which are simply the

effects of the operation of natural laws--are performed. The Holy Spirit

is communicated by the laying on of hands of one of the authorized

priesthood, and the recipient is then enabled to perform wonders

according to his gift,--some having the gift of prophecy, some of

healing, some of speaking in unknown tongues, etc. There are three

heavens--the telestial, the terrestrial, and the celestial. The

telestial and terrestrial heavens are to be occupied by the various

classes of persons who have neither obeyed nor rejected the gospel. The

celestial or highest heaven is reserved for those who received the

testimony of Jesus and were baptized. The earth, as purified and refined

after the second coming of Christ, is to be the final habitation of

those entitled to the glories of the celestial kingdom. Jerusalem is to

be rebuilt; and Zion, or the New Jerusalem, is to be built in Jackson

County, Missouri, from whence the saints were expelled in 1833. There is

a fourth class of persons, who shall go into everlasting punishment with

the devil and his angels. They are those who sin against the Holy

Ghost. The gospel that all people must obey to gain a place in the

celestial heaven is: First, they must believe in Jesus Christ as the Son

of God and in his authorized priesthood; second, they must repent of

their sins; third, they must be baptized by immersion for the remission

of their sins; and fourth, they must receive the laying on of hands for

the gift of the Holy Ghost. “God, having become nearly lost to man,

revived his work by revealing himself to Joe Smith and conferring upon

him the keys of everlasting priesthood, thus making him the mediator of

the new dispensation, which is immediately to precede the second coming

of Christ.” All those who recognize the divine authority of Smith and

are baptized are the chosen people of God, who are to introduce the

millennium and to reign with Christ a thousand years.

There are many secrets in the organization which the saints are sworn to

keep under heavy penalty, it is said; but this is a sketch of them, and

is as good and full an account as I am able to give to be consistent

with my purpose.

CHAPTER IV.

We Leave Salt Lake--Reach the Sierra Nevada Slopes--Tunnels,

Gorges, etc.--Reach California--Sacramento--San Francisco--Hotel

Runners--Fruits--Palace Hotel--Chinese--Dennis Kearney and

Party--De Young-Kalloch Tragedy--Chinese Bakers--California

Climate--Ships--Golden Gate--Woodward Garden--Portland,

Oregon--Washington Territory--Sail for Santa Barbara and Los

Angeles--Prescott, Arizona--Meet General Fremont--Big Trees--Return

to Ohio.

We camped in Salt Lake valley nearly three weeks, and our stay had been

so agreeable that it appeared to us but a day. We now concluded to sell

our outfit and take passage on the train for California, the land of

gold. The property was soon sold and tickets were purchased, and we

stepped aboard. Our new team snorted and its breath curled gracefully

upward, and we moved smoothly up the valley near the beach of the great

salt sea. We had been toiling up the rocky sides and rolling down the

barren slopes so long that we had become somewhat used to slow, plodding

travel, and were delighted with the ease and speed with which we were

now winding our way toward the Pacific shores.

We soon passed out from between the towering, snow-capped walls, and

crawling along the hill-sides we soon came upon a dry, sandy desert

where ofttimes a spire of grass could not be seen for several miles. The

little lakes and streamlets lay miles apart, and their brinks were all

powdered with alkali while their waters were as bitter as the essence of

gall. The whole face of the plain was covered with thick, spraddling

sage-brush, which stood in the sands like saplings in a new forest; but

not even the smallest animal or insect nestled or sung among the limbs.

A strong puff of wind roars over the desert, and the sand rises in the

air and looks like a great column of light colored smoke. Where the

brush stand in thick clumps the sand lodges; and the brush sprouting out

every year, the drift grows to a large mound. As we passed along they

glistened in the bright sunlight on either side of the way.

There are section-houses built at the end of every division of the road,

and large, powerful wind-pumps roll the water into the tanks from far

below the burning sand. The section-hands stay in these houses; and

their necessaries are brought them by the company. These hands are

usually Chinamen; and passing them at noon they will be found seated in

the sand around a pot of rice, greedily eating their _only_ food.

Near many of these tanks small parties of Indian squaws, girls,

papooses, and some old men, of the Shoshone and Winnemucca tribes, were

wallowing in the sand, with nothing but a few skins stretched over the

tops of the brush to shelter them from the blazing orb; and when the

engine stopped to take water these filthy creatures would run along each

side of the train and ask for biscuits. Many travelers have their lunch

along; and the beggars seldom fail to get their arms filled from the

open windows.

When the train was in motion there was a breeze; but in every direction

the heat curled and dangled upward from the scorching sands like rays

from a fiery furnace. It was a dreary, lonesome ride; and we sat by the

windows peering out over the little sand-mounds that rose in the

distance until the pine-covered slopes of the Sierra Nevadas broke the

monotony, and the breath of the mountain wafted through the open car.

How delightful to be among the pretty green trees again, and to get a

draught from the clear, cool waters that roll out from the

mountain-rocks where the little conies sport among the crags.

We had often heard of the great tunnels and snow-sheds, and the mighty

fills along the Central Pacific line. We were now actually _observing_

the famous pass-way; and there was no part of our journey that presented

such a vast amount of interesting and beautiful scenery. Sometimes we

would wind along the steep side of the mountain, far above the tops of

the trees in the valley below; and to look out and see the crystal

waters gush from the bluff and dash down over the rocky precipices and

lash into foam among the pines is grand beyond mention.

Soon the conductor comes through the car, ordering all heads and arms to

be drawn in and the windows and doors closed, and warning the passengers

not to get frightened. Then a flutter goes through the car, and the

timid breathe short and quick. What is to happen? All of a sudden the

light is eclipsed, the timid females shriek wildly, and we are winding

through the dark, narrow tunnel, far into the mountain. It is dark as

midnight. The rolling of the car-wheels roars like thunder, and the

smoke from the engine pours in through every crevice. At length we

suddenly dart into the light again. A din of relief goes through the

car, the windows are thrown up, and everybody is anxious to look back at

the dismal tunnel. As the front cars are winding around the valleys and

over the gorges, and the rear cars are coming out of the mountain, the

train looks like a huge serpent crawling from its gloomy den. Now we

come into a mighty cut, where the prints of the pick and shovel are seen

in the hard earth, and the great walls on either side are left rough

with the blast; and now we run over a fill, and the steady heads look

out into the swimming space. These are the scenes for many miles; and

when considering the immense amount of labor it must have required to

pierce the mountains of rock and fill up the almost bottomless gorges, a

person is forced to exclaim, “Wonderful, wonderful man!”

There are the most beautiful trees growing upon the slopes; and in spite

of the efforts of the Government to save the timber upon its vacant

lands, saw-mills are buzzing in almost every

[Illustration]

gorge, and the finest lumber is shipped to the East and West. Fortunes

have been made at this, and they are being made to-day in spite of the

penalty. There are also numerous mines along the way. At some places the

whole mountain appears to have been turned upside down, and the muddy

waters slush down the rocky rifts.

Our train was heavily loaded, and two engines were required at some

places to haul us up the mighty grades; and the puffing of the powerful,

six-wheel drivers echoed loudly down the canons. Trains are compelled to

run very slow here; and bands of robbers sometimes board them, and,

under cover of revolvers and guns, rob the crew.

We at length left the Sierra Nevadas to the east and ran out upon the

plains of California--the beautiful, level land of gold. We had now

reached the famous wheat country,--where it is said single farmers

sometimes raise ten and fifteen thousand acres,--and were sailing

through the renowned delightful and healthy climate. As we rolled over

the level plain, where we could see for many miles in any direction, the

platforms and windows were crowded with persons all anxious to view the

great California, whose veins are gold, and whose influence has lain

many human bodies among the rifts and gulches of the bleak and lonely

mountains. Much of the country is unfenced; and when otherwise, the

fields usually contain many hundred acres. At many places along the

track there are large uncovered platforms built up, and thousands of

bushels of grain lay there in sacks ready for shipment. They say they

never put their grain in barns, but thrash it in the fields and haul it

to the platforms, sometimes leaving it there for several weeks and

months before shipping; for there is no danger of rain until the wet

season sets in. The grain is all headed.

The road being so level and straight, the train flew swiftly along; and

we soon saw the spires and steeples of the capital city glittering in

the distance. Coming into Sacramento the train stopped for refreshments;

and before the wheels stopped rolling the cars were boarded by swarms of

hotel-runners, who almost tried to force the passengers to go with them

to their different hotels. Some of our comrades went along; but we had

heard of the great numbers and extreme insolence of the runners of

Sacramento and San Francisco, and from the looks of them they were but a

gang of thieves, so we concluded to hunt our own hotels and tend to our

own _business_.

Sacramento is a lovely place, with pretty, wide streets, many of which

are made cool and delightful by large willows standing along either

side, and whose green, limber branches meet above and droop over the

way. The capitol is a large building, and in shape and color resembles

the White House.

From here we again renewed our journey, and at last entered the city of

Oakland, on the shore of the briny bay. The dry deserts and rugged

mountains had been crossed, and we were finally looking upon the home of

the tide, where the sea-gull sports upon the waves.

Frisco (San Francisco) lies across the bay--a distance of about eight

miles--from Oakland, and there are large steam-ferries continually

passing back and forth. We went aboard the ferry; and the trip was so

pleasant that we thought we would like to cross the ocean. Several

runners came over to Oakland to talk with the passengers as they crossed

the bay; but on reaching the Frisco shore, I swear I never saw the like,

and it would be impossible to describe the scene. There must have been

seventy-five runners there from the different hotels, all anxious to

take you to a good house. There were sometimes several from one house,

and their busses were all backed up in a row. As soon as the ferry

touched the wharf these fellows rushed wildly on board, crying out the

name of their hotels and grabbing the luggage from the hands of the

passengers, and endeavoring to drag them to their hacks. Sometimes a

couple get hold of the person, and a couple get hold of his luggage,

each wanting to take him and his property in different directions; and

then there is a time. His clothes are sometimes torn almost off him, his

satchel is torn to pieces, and he finds himself perfectly helpless in

the hands of the mob; for if he lets go and goes to strike, some one

will run off with his property. There is always a great crowd of people;

and in the surging and crowding, and high excitement, many pockets are

picked, and much luggage is lost by the owner not following the snatcher

as he runs off for the hack. The boys run down each others hotels, one

saying, “They don’t have anything but rotten fish to eat at that house;”

another saying, “They have lousy beds at that house;” and another

warning all persons not to go to either for they are robbers, and they

will charge five dollars per day when they have you fast. Now, to see

several of these fellows all pleading earnestly with a plain old

conscientious farmer who takes everything for the truth is entirely too

funny. He first looks at one and then at the other, not knowing which

one to trust. We were well fixed; for some of us could carry the luggage

while the others knocked down the runners. The better way is to get the

name of some good hotel before you get there, and then look for the ’bus

and make for it. In any case, persons should securely fasten their

luggage to them with ropes.

The surface is level for a couple of hundred yards back from the bay,

and it then ascends sharply to the top of a high ridge running parallel

with the bay. The surface is barren, and the sand is deep and soft. On

this level strip and against this steep, sandy hill stands the great

city of San Francisco. The house-foundations are all laid deeply, to get

below the sand; and the streets are all paved with several layers of

round rocks, with nothing to smooth the surface. There is nearly always

a pretty strong wind stirring, and the streets have to be kept perfectly

clean. For this purpose large street-sweepers are drawn over the road by

horses every day, and sprinkling is done besides. The riding and

driving over these rocks is very disagreeable; and the horses do not

usually last very long. To see them drawing their great loads up the

steep hill-side, slipping, sliding, and straining every nerve, and

sometimes falling upon their knees on the stones, is an ugly sight

indeed. The large wholesale houses all have heavy trucks; and many of

the finest teams I ever saw were hauling these trucks.

There is an immense quantity of the very largest and finest fruits

raised in California every year. I believe I have seen as many grapes,

pears, peaches, and melons in the streets of San Francisco in one day as

there are raised in the State of Ohio in a whole year. I have seen

several millions of fine melons lying in a single heap. There are

several mammoth fruit-stores here, and hundreds of bushels, during the

season, are daily loaded upon the ships for other countries. I might

also add that, though California fruits are large and beautiful, much of

it lacks the flavor of eastern fruits,--perhaps from the fact that

during its growth it gets no rain but depends solely on the heavy dew

for its nourishment.

There are street-cars on almost every street; and they are run up and

down the incline by engines stationed at the top of the hill. It is very

pleasant riding up and down here, and the cars are full on almost every

trip.

Though there are some very large, fine buildings, the city is very

ordinary on this score, there being also many little old shanties stuck

here and there all through the place. The Palace Hotel is the finest

building in the city, and is said to be the largest hotel in the world.

It is built of beautiful polished stone, is seven stories high, contains

seven hundred and twenty-five rooms, and takes up a whole square,

fronting upon every side. In the center of the building there is a round

space of about twenty yards in diameter running from the bottom to the

top; and there are walks all around this from each story. Persons are

let up and down here by elevators. There is a large, beautiful rockery

all decorated with lovely flowers in the center of this space; and the

clear, cool water from a pretty fountain is thrown high in the air and

descends softly and refreshingly upon the tender roses and mossy rocks.

There is a grand archway leading into this area from one of the

streets, and carriages are driven through this and around the beautiful

rockery where the air is fragrant with the sweet breath of the flowers.

Guests are thus lifted into and out of their carriages always in the

dry. The house is in all respects a _perfect_ structure, and is

furnished with the finest and most costly furniture. The rates are from

five to ten dollars per day; though good boarding can be had in the city

for from four to six dollars per week. Here is where General Grant and

party put up when they reached San Francisco in their trip round the

world. The other principal houses are the Baldwin, Franklin, Central

Pacific, and Hotel Rhein.

There are great numbers of saloons, gambling-houses, and variety-shows,

and whole gangs of the very lowest prostitutes in the city. A large

proportion of the inhabitants are the rakings of many nations; and I

feel very sure that there is not another city sitting upon the shores of

the Pacific Ocean of more notorious lewdness and low vices than this

place.

We heard much about the Chinese, and had seen a few; but here were

thousands of them, of every shape and size. The business-houses on each

side of one of the streets for a half mile through the city are almost

exclusively occupied by them. Their business ranges from the theater

down to the poultry-pen. This street is called China Street.

Very few of the Chinamen have brought their wives over with them, and

the females who _are_ here are nearly all prostitutes; so the men do

their own cooking and washing. They are nearly all good at this,

however; and I have learned that they are taught to do this in their

native land. It appears that none of them come to this country with the

intention of staying, but intend only to make little fortunes and then

take it back to China; and it is said that the bones of every deceased

one are sent home for interment. They are therefore very economical, and

live almost exclusively on rice and cooked fish. The former they have

shipped from China by the wholesale, and the latter they catch

themselves; so that grub costs them very little.

At meal-time groups of from six to twelve gather round a large pot of

rice and a great dish of cooked fish and take their meals. Each person

is provided with a cup, and two little sticks, about the size of a

lead-pencil, which they hold in their fingers like a bone-rattler holds

his bones. The rice is dipped into the cup and the cup is placed to the

lips; and as they rake the rice into their mouths with the sticks it

makes an observer think of playing the jew’s-harp. Now and then they

reach over and clamp a piece of fish between the sticks. And they appear

to relish this food as much as though it were the richest delicacy.

At night they gather in squads and crouch together upon the floor like

hogs. They have but a few blankets for beds. By living in this way their

expenses are consequently very light; and the poor, laboring white man

is underbidden in his labor, while the slaving washer-woman is driven

from her tub by this heathen competition.

The sorrowful consequences of Chinese competition can never be realized

until once observed. Some say it is right,--that what one human lives

on, another should be able to. But I say shame on the person who would

ask, or even wish to see his fellow-man live as do these vile, filthy,

heathen competitors. We boast of our land and Government as being the

pride of the world, the asylum of the oppressed, the home for the weary,

where labor is fairly rewarded, and where human happiness is not all

drowned by the necessary cares of life. To ask this competition is to

ask our laboring brothers to live as the subjects of the most wicked

tyrant on the earth, and our poor sisters as she who comes down the

foreign hill-side with a great load upon her head, knitting on the way.

There are about fifty thousand in the city; and every ship from China

brings more to the shore. It is needless to say that the laboring

classes are indignant at the outrage, and that the city is constantly in

the wildest commotion. In their part of the town they have dark secret

excavations in the earth, entered by trap-doors and narrow passes, and

in here are their opium-dens, and gambling-hells, and prostitution

apartments. No ray of sunlight ever reaches these cells; and the fumes

of filth and crime ooze out of the crevices like smoke from a kiln.

There are some back streets in which it is not safe to travel after

dark; and the air is contaminated with the most loathsome, contagious,

and dangerous diseases. Some of these low places have been broken up by

the police; but they have never been able to find half of them.

There are three political parties in California--the Republican,

Democratic, and the Workingmen’s Party of California (W. P. C.)--the

latter led by Dennis Kearney. We were there during the campaign of 1879,

and more excitement I never saw. The only issue was the Chinese

question; and each candidate would hop upon a wagon or store-box every

night, and cry out, “Elect me, and the Chinese with their leprosy shall

be driven from the state. Vote for me, and I will make hell a paradise,”

etc., etc. The W. P. C. is composed of the vile dregs of almost every

nation; and decency and manhood are not to be found in its ranks. Dennis

Kearney is a rash, illiterate, blood-thirsty fiend, whose regular

business is draying--an occupation he is only calculated for; and to see

this mob parading the streets, with Chinamen stamped upon their banners

in all horrible positions, shouting, profaning, and declaring open

violence to the Chinese and all persons who speak for them, is enough to

disgust man with his fellow-kindred. The question is worthy of

agitation; but violence is not the instrument with which to cure the

evils of a civilized world. Kearney is bold, rash, and ambitious; and

these are the qualities admired by such people as belong to the W. P. C.

It is wonderful, the influence this man has over his followers.

Most persons know about the DeYoung-Kalloch tragedy; and the _truth_ is

as follows, for I was there and saw the shooting: DeYoung was the editor

of the _Chronicle_ (a Republican paper), and I. M. Kalloch was a

minister--a smart man, but one whose religion was as transient as the

morning dew, and who, wishing a political benefit, stepped from the

sacred altar into the polluted ranks of Kearney’s howling mob. He was

nominated for mayor of the city, and went about agitating and

encouraging his party to violence in the strongest language. He abused

the leaders of other parties in bitter phrases; and upon one occasion

referred to DeYoung as a lousy bastard, nursed and reared in the lap of

a prostitute, and whose life was poison to San Francisco. DeYoung got to

hear of the infamous charges made against his poor old mother, whose

body was laid in the grave, and, unable to control his temper, he hired

a _coupe_ and negro to drive him to Kalloch’s house, and sent in for him

to come out, saying that a lady wished to see him. As he came near the

_coupe_, DeYoung flung open the door and fired upon him, one ball

passing into his body and another into his groins. He fell. But before

DeYoung could finish his work a mob turned over the _coupe_ and jerked

him out; and but for the brave police, he would have been mangled beyond

recognition in a few minutes. DeYoung was bound over in bail of twenty

thousand dollars, to answer the charge of shooting with intent to kill;

but before he was tried he was killed by his victim’s son. I. M. Kalloch

recovered from his wounds, and, having been elected, served the city as

mayor.

DeYoung was murdered by young I. S. Kalloch as follows: One evening, a

little after twilight,--after I. M. Kalloch was sound and well, and was

tilling his office,--DeYoung came from his home and entered his office;

but before he got behind the desk, I. S. Kalloch, who had been prowling

around the building watching his opportunity, rushed through the door

and fired upon his victim. His first two shots took slight effect; and

DeYoung was behind his desk and had his own pistol raised when a third

ball from his assailant entered his mouth and laid him dying upon the

floor at the feet of his brother Michael. The murderer was seized and

put in jail, and the Workingmen’s Party called a meeting at the Sand

Lots and had a grand jollification over the result; and extravagant

eulogiums were heaped upon young Kalloch, who was so brave and who

served his party so well. He had his trial; and though clearly guilty of

murder in the first degree, and deserving of blackest torture known to

the law, he was acquitted on the ground of self-defense. His party was

overjoyed at the result, and loading him in a carriage they pulled him

by hand all over the city.

Charles DeYoung was a bitter partisan, and made use of extravagant

language from the stump, but I. M. Kalloch was infinitely worse; and

though the latter made a low, cowardly assault upon a poor old woman

whose body was returning to the dust from whence it came, and should

have been stoned from the stand, DeYoung was certainly not justified in

his shooting at the time he did it, and should have been punished; but

it was clearly not the part of the Kallochs, who came down out of the

pulpit and placed themselves at the head of the ranks of an indecent

mob, to administer it. Excitement was running high at the time DeYoung

shot Kalloch, and the Chinese, knowing that they were the cause of the

trouble, were daily expecting an outbreak. When the report of the pistol

was heard, and people rushed to and fro, Chinatown was in a stir; and

every little old back shed and kitchen-roof was covered with Chinamen

with shot-guns and big rocks, fully expecting an attack, and determined

to fight it out. Such jabbering one never heard. Terror reigned supreme,

and mobs of indecent, beastly wretches ran through the streets crying

for violence and mob-law. A meeting of the party was called to determine

what to do; and in the afternoon several thousand people assembled at

the Sand Lots--a couple of lots just outside the corporation, where the

sand is very deep, and where the W. P. C.’s held their meetings. The

assembly was addressed by several of the leaders. Whenever a man would

get up and did not talk straight “hang,” he was jerked down and the mob

would yell like tigers; but when a speaker would cry for blood, and

pollute the very air with profanity, the hearts would beat quick and the

eyes glisten. There were several guns and pistols glistening in the

crowd, and for awhile things looked a little like hanging; and the party

being in a majority in the city, it could have been accomplished. But

about the time the resolution was to be adopted a dispatch was received

from Kearney (who was away), asking them to wait until he arrived. By

this time the jail was surrounded by a strong military guard, and the

violence was not attempted.

Such is W. P. C., and such is the true history of the DeYoung-Kalloch

troubles. I have, perhaps, dwelt longer upon this subject than I have

been justified in doing; but I was so utterly disgusted with the beastly

actions of these villains, and so fully impressed with the violence

threatened to justice, and the danger into which a government is plunged

where illiteracy takes the throne, that I could not refrain.

When it was known that the Grant party were to stop in the city, the

citizens began to prepare for a grand reception. But Kearney called a

meeting of his followers and denounced the Republican party in severest

epithets. He called General Grant its leader, and denounced him as a

tyrant who was seeking the power of the nation, and told his men not to

turn out in the parade, but while they were marching through the streets

they would meet at the Sand Lots and burn General Grant in effigy. The

speech took great effect on the party, and it looked as though it would

be hardly safe for the general to come to the city. Several of the

good, resolute citizens waited upon Kearney and told him that if he ever

attempted to carry out his threats his body would be pierced with a

thousand bullets. The warning was sufficient; and on the arrival of the

party, Kearney and his minions were quiet; and the Republican party

fired thirty salutes from the Sand Lots in honor of the greatest general

on earth.

We were in the city on election-day; and such a time I never saw. The

Ohio boys who talk of political excitement ought to have been there.

There were eighty special police appointed, and on nearly every corner

there was a fight. Three men were shot, several were wounded, and the

station-houses were crowded. The W. P. C.’s carried the city, but the

state went Republican.

The Chinese question is a cloud hanging over California; and what the

result will be can not be told. Surely some modification of the

Burlingame treaty is needed as badly as a protection tariff. There are

about fifty thousand in the city of Frisco, and they are scattered in

almost every city in the state. Large societies are organized, and all

joiners pledge themselves not to employ Chinese labor; and though many

join, some of the big employers work to their own interests, and employ

those who can be got the cheapest, be they Chinamen or not. Many of the

large hotels and bakeries employ Chinese; and more beautiful bread,

biscuits, and pies than they turn out were never seen. The secret of

their success has been discovered, however, and they have been driven

off in some places. They fill their mouth with warm water, and with a

peculiar _whist_ they blow it out in sprays as fine as the morning mist,

over the dough while kneading. In this way the dough is worked and

rolled in good order, and then placed in the oven. When it is of a

delicate brown it is drawn out, a lump of butter is melted in the mouth

and then blown over it, and the crust becomes soft as sponge. To persons

with calloused stomachs, or to those who are ignorant of the process, it

is perfectly delicious. As for us, we did not choose to eat spit, be it

native or imported. The laundry-men dampen their clothes in the same

way; and when several are at work in the same house they make almost as

much noise as the cylinder-cocks on a steam-engine, and you can hear

them clear out on the street.

California is noted for its beautiful, even climate. There are two

seasons--the wet and the dry. The former sets in about November first

and continues until about April first. During this season it rains

almost every day, and the sun is hidden sometimes for several weeks at a

time; and except in the mountains, it seldom gets cold. During the dry

season there is no rain, and crops are nourished by the heavy dews. This

is the reason corn does no good here. The summers are usually warm. The

temperature has been known to reach 120°, and little birds have been

seen to drop suffocated from the trees. The mornings and evenings of the

warmest days are usually so cool, from the sea-breeze, that fire is

comfortable and persons can sleep under a pair of blankets. It is

usually about ten o’clock before fog clears away sufficient to let

through the rays of the sun. Of course there is some difference between

the climate of the northern and the southern parts of the state.

The ocean, to us, was the subject of great attraction; and we loved to

sit upon a bluff at the beach and see the tide come rolling in and hear

it roar as the briny spray was lashed up against the rocky shores and

tossed back into foam, and see the multitudes of ships anchored in the

bay, whose rigging looked like a vast net-work.

We saw ships here nearly five hundred feet long, which drew twenty-three

feet of water and were twenty feet out of the water. To see these great

ships going out and coming in is a grand sight indeed. As they plow

through the water the brine is churned into foam and the waves roll

several feet high behind them, and the surface is left disturbed far in

the rear. It is pleasant to see a ship from a foreign port draw up to

the wharf and hear the warm greetings of friends. The wharf is all lined

with persons,--many anxious to see some one,--and when the planks are

thrown out they rush on board; and to see the warm embraces and

affectionate salutes of dear friends whom the briny waves rolled between

for perhaps several years is enough to hurry the blood in one’s veins

and lift his heart high in his bosom. But, on the other hand, oh! how

sorrowful to see friends part. The ship is loaded and the time is set

for starting; and persons taking passage gather on board; and their

friends sit by their sides talking and telling messages to carry to

friends beyond. The minutes fly like seconds, and the time comes nearer

and nearer; and at length the order is given to draw in the planks.

Quivering lips are then touched and trembling hands are shaken, and with

a sorrowful “Good-by” those not going rush ashore. The planks are drawn

in, the moorings are cut loose, the great ship is hauled out into the

open bay by a tug-boat, and when she is whirled about and her bow

pointed toward the Golden Gate the cannon is fired, the great wheel

begins to roll, and the great monster, looking like a planet upon the

waves, moves gracefully away. Then comes the affecting scene. Friends

stand upon the beach waving their handkerchiefs, and as they see the

dearest on earth glide out of sight upon the treacherous waves vent is

given to strongest grief, and heart-rending sighs waft out upon the

ocean breeze.

I have witnessed some touching scenes, one of which I shall not soon

forget. I was at the wharf when the great ship Australia was whirled

about, her cannon discharged, and she started for the island from which

she took her name; and I saw the scene. There was one aged woman whose

only son was on board; and she stood upon the shore and sobbed as if her

heart would break as he rode away. When the ship faded in the distance

she fainted away and was carried off. Oh! what great necessity must

have forced that son abroad, or what a hard and cruel heart he must have

had to grieve his poor old mother’s heart and drown her cries in the

briny waves. How I thought of the great Washington, who gave up his

voyage because of his good mother’s grief.

We were not satisfied with looking over the waters, but we were anxious

to ride the waves. Accordingly we hired a plunger, about twenty feet

long, with a mast about twelve feet high and a single sail; and though

we were all greenhorns upon the waters, we pushed into the bay. We

thought we would take a fish; so we got tackling, bought three

fish-worms for twenty cents, and dragged our lines behind the boat. We

started early in the morning when the wind was low and the tide was

running out; and we sailed merrily away.

The Golden Gate is about six miles up the bay; and we glided among the

tugs and schooners and around the great anchored steamers, and at length

reached the gate. Here the bay narrows, and the entrance to the open sea

is about half a mile wide. On either side the rough, barren bluffs rise

several hundred feet high; and numbers of big government guns planted

upon the crests look down over the gateway.

We launched out into the sea and for our first time rode upon the king

of waters. The breeze was favorable, and we shot along until the beach

was left in the dim distance. We then concluded we were far enough. As

far as the eye could reach the waters idly tossed; and the mist hung

over the sea like smoke over a burning prairie. The sea-gulls rocked

upon the waves, the spirt-whales rose to the surface and blew the brine

far into the air, and the dark sea-lions rose to utter their loud roars

and then disappear again among the waves.

Our sail out was very pleasant; but the wind had now grown strong, and

being directly against us on our return--with our little knowledge of

sailing--we were in bad quarters. We tossed about, and several times

came near upsetting. We had to jerk down the sail, and at length learned

to manage the rudder and to zigzag the boat; and about twilight we

glided back through the gate into the bay. The wind was now roaring over

the sea, and the waves rolled and tossed and churned it into foam; and

it seemed to me that every time we came down we were going clear under.

We here turned with the breeze again, and shot down through

[Illustration: SAN FRANCISCO BAY.]

the bay, with the tide, like an arrow. We ran down among the other

vessels at the harbor and were lashed up against their sides and tossed

helplessly about until eight o’clock, when we came up to the shore. We

had not caught a fish, and boat-riding had ceased to be pleasant. The

owner was very anxious about his boat; for he said he had lost several

boats by greenhorns taking them out and getting capsized and sinking

them. God knows we were as anxious to bring the boat in safely as he

was.

We had often thought and talked about swimming to the shore from wrecks

on the ocean; but since we saw the waters we think swimming is but a

faint hope; for when the breeze is so light that it is hardly noticeable

the waters toss a foot high, and when the wind blows a little they roll

several feet high, and at no time is the surface still and smooth.

The tide goes out every morning and comes in every evening; and it is

delightful to sit upon the beach when the pale beams of the sinking sun

are kissing the waves, and see it come rolling in. Ridges of water about

three feet high, reaching from right to left as far as the eye can reach

and about one hundred yards apart, chase each other to the shore; and as

they strike upon the breakers the spray is lashed high against the rocky

beach and roars like a forest hurricane. I have sat here for hours, lost

in reflection; and the spell was only broken by the falling of the

twilight veil.

There are persons here who make their living by fishing; and almost

every day they set out for the mouth of the Sacramento River or the

southern neck of the bay, and at night come back with their boats loaded

with the most beautiful fish. I have seen sturgeon four feet long, and

with heads as large as a man’s.

There is yet another place of which I must speak in connection with

Frisco, and that is Woodward’s Garden, a place noted for its beauty and

known by everybody for miles around. It is situated on a hill about a

mile south of the city, and is surrounded by a high, strong fence and a

thick growth of tall cedars. It contains about four acres, and is

decorated with the most beautiful firs, cedars, and drooping willows;

and great fountains toss their cool, sparkling waters high in the air

and fall it into nice, large ponds, where sport almost all kinds of

aquatic animals and fowls.

There are several pretty passes under the hills and some lovely caves

through which course streamlets of clear, cool water. In the walls of

these caves are arranged large glass cases through which the water

bubbles and in which nestle, among pretty pieces of coral, the most

beautiful fishes of all shapes and colors. Some have no eyes; and others

have such curious shapes that it takes close observation to find the

head or even to tell whether they are animate objects.

There are several fine, large buildings in the garden, and one of the

finest museums I ever passed through. Birds of the most gaudy plumage,

from every climate of the earth, sing and croak among the little trees

in their fine, large cages, and the air was laded with their sweet,

merry songs.

There is also an elegant theater, and lunchrooms; and there are several

entertainments given here each week. On the whole, I suppose there is

not a more beautiful, interesting, and instructive place on the

continent. All persons visiting California should by all means go to see

this great museum. Great crowds gather into the garden almost every

day,--especially Sunday,--and the admission being twenty-five cents

there must be thousands of dollars taken in every year; though it must

also take a vast amount to keep up the place. There are so many

subterranean passages and high, curious galleries that it takes a half

day to examine all the beauties and curiosities; and strangers will

miss half them unless they hire a guide to take them through.

We had now traveled every street and fully acquainted ourselves with the

great city of San Francisco, and had made excursions out through the

country for miles around, so we determined to take a trip up to Oregon

and Washington Territory to see the brag countries of the north-west.

There is great competition between these points; and though the regular

fare is ten dollars, there was just then a big war between the

ship-lines. While one was charging no fare, the other was transporting

passengers free and boarding them besides. This was a very good time to

go to Portland; so we boarded the steamer Oregon, which glided out upon

the waters and steered for the north.

The distance is five hundred miles; and in four days we sailed into the

mouth of the Columbia River. The river is very wide and deep here, and

the current is very strong; but we steamed up to where the Willamette

empties in from the south, and then cast anchor and in boats sailed down

to Portland, and to Salem, the capital of the state.

The Willamette valley is a rich and beautiful country, and, I suppose,

the greatest wheat-field on the continent. Much other grain is also

raised. Low mountains hem the valley on either side, and the slopes are

covered with the most beautiful large timber.

Portland and Salem are both pretty cities; and though small now, the

rich Willamette soil promises to make them large and active cities in

the future.

We now sailed back to the Columbia and up to Walla Walla, a little town

on the Columbia shore in the eastern part of Washington Territory, where

the Snake River brings in its waters. Here is also a beautiful, level,

valley country, and settlers are rearing their cabins in every

direction. Walla Walla has as glittering a prospect as any other upon

the Pacific slope, though its day may be far in the future.

We had seen heavy forests, but Washington Territory beats anything on

this score that we ever saw. The very richest soil is covered with trees

from three to six feet over, and standing so closely together that a ray

of sunshine scarcely ever gets through the tangled branches. What has

been cleared proves to be very productive; but, oh, my! the clearing.

Why, it would take a man nearly a life-time to clear himself a farm; for

even when the trees are felled and burned, the great rooty stumps are so

thick that no farming can be done until they are grubbed and blasted

out. This will necessarily be slow work; but I prophesy for this country

a bright future. There are numbers of saw-mills buzzing in the forests,

and much of the finest lumber is shipped down to the coast cities; but

timber being also good all along the Pacific slopes, the lumber business

is not very profitable. There are many of the straightest, smoothest,

and tallest saplings here that were ever seen, and great numbers are cut

down every year for ship-masts.

Imported stock is bred here in great herds; and numbers of the very

largest and finest horses are sold and sent out from here every year.

The climate is the greatest drawback to the country. Like in California,

there is a wet and a dry season; but the former lasts about six months

or more, during which time it rains almost constantly, and settlers say

the sun is hidden sometimes for several months. The streams then

overflow, and persons can fish all over their farms--and some fine white

salmon and other varieties are caught. Moss grows all over the roofs of

the buildings, and hangs from the forest-limbs clear down to the ground.

During this season persons do not pretend to do much but fish and float

logs; but when the dry season sets in the weather is delightful, and it

is as pretty a country to live in as lies between the oceans.

When we were ready to go south again we found that the Republican (one

of the competitors between Portland and Frisco) had been wrecked, and

the Oregon line was now charging its own rates; and the fare for our

return was sufficient to make up for our free ride.

We ran out of the mouth of the Columbia, and had not gone far when we

hove in sight of the stranded Republican, reeling upon the rocks. The

wind was high, and the waves were lashing up against her sides; and she

was heaving and groaning, while most of her rigging had been torn away

by the gale. She proved a total wreck; and several lives were lost.

There was great excitement about the matter, and the captain was

strongly accused of being bought off by the other line, and purposely

driving her awreck; for it was shown that on the night of the accident

the wind was very high and the sea was rolling terribly, and the sailors

pleaded with the captain to go ashore before dark, or else ran out

farther on the ocean out of danger from the breakers. But he was

heedless, and the consequence was that in the darkness of the night they

were driven upon the bars.

Well, we ran down to the south, most of the time in sight of land, until

we again reached Frisco, and from there we again embarked for Santa

Barbara, on the southern coast of California, a distance of about two

hundred miles.

We now reached the most delightful spot on earth, where winter never

comes, but where the bright summer lasts the whole year round. The cool

fall winds were now blowing in the central and northern states, and the

bitter frosts were clipping the leaves from the forest-trees; but here

the soft zephyrs were breathing calmly, and the tender foliage of the

trees and plants was green and fresh as in the month of May, while the

air was laded with the breath of the lovely flowers and delicious

fruits. The rich oranges, lemons, and figs, which are considered such

delicacies in the East, were here hanging upon the native bush, and we

went forth and plucked them in all their natural beauty. How lovely!

What a paragon of beauty! A life here would be but a continuous summer’s

day.

The country around Los Angeles, which lies a little to the south, is a

perfect Eden, and the city is a perfect gem; and persons seeking a peer

for paradise, where December is pleasant as May, should journey to

California and anchor in the sweet, sunny South, where the breath of

heaven fans the shore.

From here we went down the Southern Pacific Railroad, and branched off

to Prescott, the capital of Arizona. Here we met the great General John

C. Fremont, the daring explorer who served the Government so nobly

between the years 1842-8, by his exploits through the bleak, lonely

mountains and wild lands of the savage, and whose talent the nation has

felt and acknowledged. He was born in South Carolina in the year 1813,

and though his great name was once in every mouth on the Atlantic slope,

and even sung in the national campaign of 1856, the orient has almost

forgotten her son and servant, whose lips have touched the waters of

every river between the shores, and whose hairs have grown gray in her

service; and far beyond the Mississippi he is to-day governing the

dismal, desert territory of Arizona, his youth gone, glory flown, and

naught but his insignificant gubernatorial salary to guard poverty from

his door.

The climate here is intensely hot, and the surface is dry and sandy.

General Fremont thinks that a portion of the territory could be flooded

from the Pacific, and thereby be made productive; and his scheme has

been presented to congress.

They were just building the Southern Pacific Railroad through here when

we were there, and, from the intense heat and burning sands, it was

found impossible to work at it except about three or four months in the

year. The road is, however, now finished, and the Union Pacific has a

rival in the route across the continent.

On our return back to Frisco we went up a branch of the Central Pacific,

and ran out on the stage to the big trees upon the Sierra Nevada slopes.

We had stood in the forests in Ohio, and looked up at the great oaks and

called them mammoths; but great glory! here was a whole forest in a

single tree. The trunks are from ten to fifteen feet in diameter, with

summits reared so high that they appear to sweep the sky as they are

swayed to and fro by the upper currents; and away up among the spreading

boughs nestle and scream the great eagles, looking like sparrows. The

stage-route runs clear through the forest, and right by the largest

trees, which rear their heads to the enormous height of three and four

hundred feet, and right through the hollow trunk of the king of the

forest, which fell in a storm some years ago. Some idea can be formed of

the immensity of this tree when I tell you that the driver keeps his

seat and a four-horse stage-coach runs lengthwise through its body with

perfect ease. People are living in some of the trees, and have doors and

windows cut out; and some very fair-looking two-story houses are made

with these natural walls. Many of the trees have been felled, and it is

found that all the largest are but shells. One was cut down, divided

into sections, and taken to the Centennial. The most interesting part of

our journey was the curling route among these towering Pacific

monuments; and all tourists to the West, wishing to see the curiosities

of the world, should not fail to ride out among the wonders upon the

Sierra Nevada slopes.

We now returned to Frisco and prepared to return to Ohio. We sailed

across the bay, and, taking a last long look over the tossing sea, we

bid the waves good-by, and then rattled along over the iron trail of the

Union Pacific, reaching home safe and sound, when the snow-flakes were

flying in the wintry air of 1879. How unnatural all things appeared!

Where are the great hills which used to almost barrier the public way?

Why, the roads are almost smooth as a floor. Where are the big fields

that it used to take days to plow, and the great forests through which

we used to hunt? All appear but garden-spots, and fit for the spade

instead of the plow; and the woods are too small for a home for even the

squirrel or wood-chuck. All efforts to see the old homestead as in years

gone by are vain. The towering peaks of the Rockies, and the steep,

stony slopes of the Green Horns can not be banished from my mind, and

the great world of level prairie is too fresh in my memory.

I have been home now some time; and to this day farms are but gardens

and the hills are as clods. Like experience can only prove the effect. I

have roamed through twenty states and territories, and have in a measure

satisfied that desire which was the source of my boyish dreams. The

adventure is but familiar talk, and the wild chase is but common

exercise. But how much better am I off than he who is content without

travel? I now only _realize_ how wonderful is the world and its

workings, and how much there is that I never _shall_ see. Travel is

prone to disturb content; and discontent is the greatest enemy to the

human mind. Of course, this is directed to persons who travel to satisfy

the mind; for they whom circumstances crowd from home show pluck and

shrewdness in careful prospecting. I can assure you that I have seen a

great deal, and much that I never wish to see again. And if in this

brief work I have succeeded in giving my readers even a limited idea of

the country through which I passed, I feel sure that they will relieve

me of my responsible undertaking; for it is by far too much for these

few pages.

WHO SHOULD GO WEST.

Since I arrived from my tour through the West scarcely a day passes that

there are not some persons, from almost every occupation and position in

life, interrogating me as to the chances and prospects in the West. A

general answer can not be given, for circumstances vary. Though I can

not be as general and emphatic in my advice as was the great Horace

Greeley when he said, “Young man, go west and grow up with the country,”

I _can_ say from real experience and practical observations that for

_some_ toward the Pacific there is wealth. I emphasize the word

“_some_;” for there are dispositions that will never prosper in this

noted, novel land.

It should be remembered that going west from Ohio is not going west from

New York; for the splendid forests, the beautiful, rich valleys, and the

great commercial advantages fade quickly before the emigrant when he

leaves the Mississippi and marches toward the western sea. When the

Missouri is once crossed, the great American stage is then entered upon,

where the plays are different and numerous and where the shrewdest men

are actors. Instead of the honest peasant, grubbing and planting by his

little cabin in the dense forest, there are the trickster, the knave,

the thief, each playing his faithful part. Business is all swept along

by the wave of excitement,--as can be collected from the present

work,--and under such circumstances there are very many who can not

stand prosperity. Wages are always good. Money is usually made easy; and

the result of such conditions is only too well known. Fine dress is not

required, and money is plenty. For him who has enough control over

himself to take advantage of the situation there is a glittering

prospect. There are persons on the prairies and in the mountains to-day

who are gathering money like leaves in autumn.

I have tried to describe the country as it is; and my readers of

different occupations can draw conclusions and choose localities for

themselves. But my advice to those who are comfortably nestling in the

folds of civilization, where the church-bell strikes, where the

school-houses dot the land, and where utter want is ever barred, is,

Stay where you are; educate your children and be content with good. To

those who have no money,--especially those who have families,--I will

say, For God’s sake stay where help is near and charity abounds; for I

assure you that I have _seen_ the _destitute_ in a strange land.

Of course, there are beautiful lands in parts of several states and

territories, where good farms can be had, and where, some time in the

future, the steeples of great cities will glitter in the sunlight. There

is, undoubtedly, an opening here for the agriculturist; but emigrants

must expect to find the country new, the facilities and accommodations

scarce, and the neighbors poor. To be safe, they should always have

sufficient capital to run them a year or two. I have known persons to

drift west with the excitement and arrive in a splendid land without a

cent, as though expecting to find bread upon the bushes, crops ready to

harvest, and wealthy neighbors. The first year’s crop failed because of

insects, drought, or some other peculiarity of the western prairie, and

their condition was then more deplorable than the poorest from whence

they came.

There are persons who make it a business to accommodate the unfortunate

settlers with money; but the security is mortgage on property, and the

interest is usually two per cent per month, or twenty-four per cent per

year, and some are obliged to pay fifty per cent. Borrowed money never

fails to produce a crop; but the _soil_ may _fail_, and produce is also

of poor sale. From this hint warning consultations can be drawn, and

persons with families should take heed.

To the agriculturalist I can speak favorably of Kansas, Nebraska (page

40), and eastern Dakota; but should the _Indian Territory_ be opened to

settlement (as it will soon be), _there_ is the place to fly, for it is

acknowledged the hot-bed of the West. Emigrants will find it convenient

if prepared with a mess-box as described (page 94). For cattle and sheep

business on a big scale, go to Kansas, Colorado, and New Mexico (page

168). For health-giving and delightful summer-resorts (and I might here

add that there are thousands dying in the East to-day who would be hale

and hearty in the West), I can speak highly of Manitou Springs,

Colorado (page 258-264), and also Las Vegas Hot Springs, New Mexico. The

latter are twenty-two in number, and beautifully located about four

miles above the pretty city of Las Vegas. They have an altitude of six

thousand four hundred feet--the elevation which has made Colorado such a

favorite resort for those affected with pulmonary complaints--with a

decided advantage over some of the northern resorts as to latitude and

health-giving climate. The character of the water is similar to that of

the famous Hot Springs of Arkansas, as shown by the following chemical

analysis made by Prof. Hayden, United States geologist:

---------------------+-------------+-------------+--------------

CONSTITUENTS. |SPRING NO. 1.| NO. 2 | NO. 3

---------------------+-------------+-------------+--------------

Sodium carbonate | 1.72| 1.17| 5.00

Calcium carbonate }| 1.08| 10.63| 11.43

Magnesium carbon’te }| | |

Sodium sulphate | 14.12| 15.43| 16.21

Sodium chloride | 27.26| 24.37| 27-34

Potassium | Trace| Trace| Trace

Litheium | Strong trace| Strong trace| Strong trace

Silicid acid | 1.04| Trace| 2.15

Sodium | Trace| Trace| Trace

Bromine | Trace| Trace| Trace

Temperature | 130°F| 123°F| 123°F

---------------------+-------------+-------------+--------------

This showing speaks volumes to those familiar with thermal springs.

Their waters are of a superior medicinal character. The climate is not

bleak nor harsh in winter, and is very bracing and pleasant in summer.

The plateau upon which they are located may be considered the great

sanitarium in this country for lung-diseases. Prominent Boston gentlemen

have purchased and improved the property; and every visitor is

delighted.

Now, in conclusion, I will again assert that there are splendid

opportunities for persons of most classes and occupations. But I almost

hesitate to advise young men to go there (page 221); for, as was said,

all is excitement. The society is bad, and vices are so numerous (202)

that many persons will fall under such circumstances; and such a fall is

grieving many a good parent to-day.

Work can be had on the prairie or in the mountains at any time in the

summer-season; and wages are always good. But to succeed, you must be

firm, resolve to resist the evils, and be not led astray. Take care of

your earnings, and you can save money.

I have been as elaborate in my description as space will permit, and

upon facts stated my readers may rely and base their actions. Whatever

my ideas taken from this volume may be, I assure you that my chosen

profession and peculiar situation are all that keep me from following

the sun in his course to-morrow.

For I know full well

That the future will tell

The advantages hidden

In the now rude West.

THE END.