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Author of "A Look Upward" "To Bear Witness" etCc 





718 AND 720 Broadway 

Copyright, 1890, by Susie C. Clark 



American Printing and Engraving Co. 
so Arch Street, Boston 



I. Departure 5 

II. Through Canada to Chicago 10 

III. Across the Plains to Santa Fe 15 

IV. Over the Desert to Paradise 20 

V. Pasadena 24 

VI. PsAADENA — Its Environs 30 

VIL Los Angeles — Santa Monica' 36 

VIII. Santa Barbara 41 

IX. Riverside 48 

X. San Diego 54 

XI. En Route 62 

XII. San Francisco = . . 71 

XIII. Oakland 81 

XIV. The Rainy Season 87 

XV. Sonoma County 93 

XVI. The Lick Observatory . . , 99 

XVII. Santa Cruz — Monterey in 

XVIII. To the Yo Semite 119 

XIX. In the Valley 132 

XX. Homeward Bound 144 

XXI. Salt Lake City 153 

XXII. The Scenic Route 163 

XXIII. How We Spent Memorial Day 172 

XXIV. The Home Stretch 183 





CERTAIN dear little lady, who was so un- 
fortunate (though she might not agree with 
our representation of the case) as to marry a naval 
officer, and consequently spent her days migrating 
from one port to another, on the eastern, western, 
or southern shores of our repubUc, according to 
the transient location of her husband's ship, that 
she might gain occasional glimpses of the glitter- 
ing shoulder-straps and brass buttons of her truant 
lord, once gave to us as her profound conviction, 
this maxim : " If you want to be uncomfortable — 

travel !'' 

We could not gainsay her then, but can see 
plainly enough now, that the confession ranked 
her as one who has never placed herself under the 
espionage of those successful managers, Messrs. 
Raymond and Whitcomb, who make of travelling 
a science and an art, whose trains furnish every 
feature of a home but its usual stationary quality, 


and this is not always one to be desired. Human 
as well as vegetable growth is often encouraged 
by the process of transplanting, and removal in 
this instance is accomplished so deftly, skillfully 
and delightfully that the wrench of leaving one's 
native soil is scarcely felt, even though the new 
habitat is the width of a continent distant, and 
active life is resumed in a new world, a new 
climate, and under sunnier skies than the rock- 
bound coast of dear old New England affords. 

But California is much nearer Boston than it 
was in '49. The journey thither is hardly now 
considered much of a trip. The Raymonds cer- 
tainly leave you no anxiety in regard to it, and 
little to do but to fold your arms and be taken 
care of. The start is made from the station at the 
foot of Causeway street, which structure seems a 
relic of some feudal age, and makes a refreshing 
oasis to the artistic eye amid the square, stiff, red 
walls of its democratic surroundings. Its stern 
exterior and battlemented towers, with its moat 
and draw-bridge might have served as a castle 
of the Norman conqueror, although his outposts 
of defence were not adorned by such mazy net- 
work of electric wires. 

The Fitchburg's straight and narrow path runs 
through classic ground ; Cambridge, earliest home 
of letters, name indissolubly connected with 
memories of Longfellow, Agassiz, Holmes, Gray, 


and a score of lesser lights, Cambridge, which also 
holds the deserted hearthstone, and the friends 
who waft, we know, a strong God-speed ; Belmont, 
long the home of Howells ; Waverley, whose 
ancient oaks and Beaver brook are immortalized 
in Lowell's limpid verse; Waltham, making time 
for half the world ; and Concord, 

" Where first th' embattled farmers stood, 
And fired the shot heard round the world,' 

the opening of that history, written in the nation's 
heart-blood, whose second chapter is marked by 
the granite shaft which rises from Charlestown's 
hill. Fair Walden's placid wave recalls the gentle 
soul who built a lodge upon its shore and learned 
his lessons in Nature's school. The tall hemlocks 
and whispering pines that fringe its banks, chant 
no requiem in our ears for the departed great — 
Emerson and Hawthorne, Thoreau and Alcott — 
whose fellowship they have enjoyed, but murmur 
thanks that some there are in every age who 
understand their song and interpret all their 
mystic lore in words that our duller ears can 

Darkness begins to settle as we enter the lovely 
Deerfield valley, veiling the winding river and 
diversity of hill and glen, the grace of outline and 
brilliancy of autumnal foliage. But here the cour- 
teous conductor invites us to the dinine^ car, where 


attentive liveried waiters present us with a 7neim 
that might well engage the attention of the most 
fastidious epicure. 

Later on, our commodious section is converted 
into a tempting couch, and just as we are compos- 
ing ourselves to rest thereon, no less secure in the 
protection which never faileth than we would be 
in the familiar home-nest, a parting glance of in- 
quiry toward the outside world reveals a giant 
mountain wall directly athwart our path. Even our 
iron horse pauses for the moment, as if dismayed, 
then with two or three exultant neighs plunges 
straight onward, for the giant opes his heart and 
lets us in. Mind has conquered matter, as it 
always must, being its parent. Ten minutes or 
more are required for the gloomy passage, but 
what do those ten minutes represent } What years 
of patient toil, and herculean obstacles overcome, 

. " Ere first the locomotive wheels 

Rolled thro' the Hoosac tunnel bore." 

First projected in 1825, the tunnel was discussed 
in legislative halls for a quarter of a century, was 
laid repeatedly on the table and partially forgotten, 
only to be revived, for the matter — like Banquo's 
ghost — would not down. A royal road to the 
West was the coming need, and in 185 1 the work 
was begun. The State appropriated $2,000,000, 
but the actual expense was ten times that amount, 


besides the cost of many brave souls who here 
found sepulchre. 

After bustling, noisy North Adams, with its 
ever clanging bells, has been left behind, the 
silence of slumber reigns in our narrow borders, 
while with ever increasing pace we speed onwards, 
finding ourselves at early dawn, or late starlight, 
in the region between Syracuse and pretty Roch- 
ester, a country whose lazy canal-boats mock the 
demands of our modern commerce, and where the 
sun rises gloriously in the northwest, or so it 
seemed from the sightly observatory of a Pullman 

And the evening and the morning were the first 
day ! 




IT has been said that the Raymonds always give 
their patrons more than they agree to, and 
therefore their California excursionists were not 
surprised on the second day out to be taken 
through London and Paris before proceeding on 
their American tour. But travelling in foreign 
countries has its disadvantages. For instance, we 
are nothing if not literary. Correspondence with 
friends at home is a trade well followed in our 
midst, and at every stopping place mail boxes are 
eagerly sought for, in which to deposit these 
friendly greetings. At Hamilton, Canada, a most 
enticing letter-box was seen, and a lady of the 
party who shall be nameless, was delegated to 
skip across the intervening tracks with a freight 
of postal cards. On the way thither, the thought 
that she was in Canada bid her pause, but recall- 
ing that the same cards when mailed in Boston 
reached Canada in safety she thought it a poor 
rule that would not work both ways, so she 


slammed the iron lid sharply down on the van- 
ished treasures only to hear at her elbow: 

" They won't go ! " 

*' Won't go? And why?" 

Explanations followed, and at this juncture a 
sleepy Canadian shuffled up and offered to put 
extra stamps on the whole batch when the collec- 
tor should arrive. Gratefully, the lady took from 
her Durse some brand new pennies, bright and 
glittering as gold pieces, but the man removed 
neither hand from his pocket to receive the same. 
Then she tried him on some this-year nickels, but 
with an extra puff of his old clay pipe he grunted 
out : 

"They're no use to me." 

Growing exasperated, she next sought for dimes, 
ten cent's worth of pure silver the world over, but 
the provoking individual was still unmoved. Here 
the incensed American citizen made a stand. She 
assured him in good strong English, which at least 
he did have the grace to take, that his miserable 
Canadian dimes were in very bad odor with us ; 
the Post Offices wouldn't take them, the West End 
conductors refused to look at them, and that her 
dimes were the only legitimate dimes in good and 
regular standing, but just here the courteous agent 
of the party, who unlike the average policeman, 
is always round when wanted, appeared on the 
scene and straightened out the matter beautifully. 


At twilight of our long Canadian day we were 
ferried across the St. Clair river to Michigan, and 
the stars and stripes once more waved over the 
brave and the free. We even fancied that the 
American bird clapped his wings and crowed with 
especial zest and fervor upon our entrance next 
morning into boisterous, rampant Chicago. 

And where in all this fair land is there anything 
just like Chicago — so masterful, rich and proud — 
the young Leviathan of the West ,'' Rising from 
her cleansing fires in massive, stately grandeur, 
she uses the heroic scale of measurement in her 
every expression of life. She builds her ware- 
houses by the mile, her palaces cover leagues. 
She is already making confident preparation, to 
hold here the World's Fair of 1892. For, she 
reasons, what would the trans-atlantic visitor know 
of the wondrous length and breadth of our coun- 
try if he landed in New York, and saw only the 
Exposition t 

The beautiful Lincoln Park, with its Lake 
boulevard, hopes to add ere that date still another 
to its many attractions in an artificial drive across 
the water, 800 feet from shore, parallel with the 
Park. Wealth is plentiful, merchants princely, 
and Western hearts generous. A new statue was 
placed in the Park, a week ago, a bronze figure of 
De La Salle, a discoverer of hardly less note than 
Columbus, for did he not discover Chicaffo } It is 


supposed that this brave French explorer was the 
first white man to set his foot, 209 years ago, 
upon the soil now covered by the great metropolis, 
or in the Indian village which then occupied its 

The Park visitor can hardly fail to visit the tank 
of sea-lions, as his attention is drawn thither by 
the constant, hideous barking noise with which 
these unpleasant, slimy creatures seek to relieve 
their rudimentary minds. One cannot help the 
query aii bono while gazing on these strange use- 
less connecting links in the great chain of life. It 
is as if Nature paused, in sportive mood, while 
ascending the ladder of creation to use up waste 
material, the refuse of more decided types, of fish, 
and dog and ape. The imprisoned germ of a soul 
which vitalizes the shapeless lump we call sea-lion 
is certainly very restive under its present imper- 
fect expression. It writhes uncomfortably, and 
yearns impatiently for its next higher transmigra- 
tion, which, we know, will surely come. 

Chicago's Public Library occupies commodious 
quarters on the top floor of the city's magnificent 
Court House, with many stations in various other 
districts. The streets of Chicago are noticeably 
more uncleanly and filled with refuse than the 
thoroughfares of a certain thrifty New England 
city we could mention, but the visitor who dared 
to comment on this state of affairs was assured 


with considerable hauteur that there is so much 
more business done, here than in Boston that it 
would be impossible to keep the streets so tidy. 
Dear, insignificant little Boston ! Though so far 
away, we love her still. 




FROM Chicago, our course lies straight as the 
crow flies across the prairie State ot Illinois 
and through its acres upon acres of corn fields, to 
Rock Island and the Mississippi. This noble 
river, broad, placid and beautiful, is crossed at sun- 
set, while it still reflects the sky's warm glow in its 
every ripple. Its sister river, the Missouri, reach- 
ed at daybreak the next morning, is more churlish. 
Yellow, tawny and turbulent, she veils her unlove- 
liness with a fog so dense that her width can hardly 
be discerned from the height of the bridge, and 
Kansas City on its rugged bluffs is entirely blotted 
out. Indeed the precipitous heights on which the 
place seems perched, are so exaggerated by this 
deceptive haze that we now credit the legend of a 
cow who here fell out of a pasture and broke her 

From this point onward we enter upon the plains 
and cross many leagues of level, unfertile, but to 
unaccustomed eyes, most interesting stretch of 
country. Its chief vegetation consists of clumps 


of sage brush and huge cacti, bristling with light 
yellow blossoms, its chief inhabitants prairie-dogs, 
so-called, though the term seems a misnomer, for 
the little creatures hop like rabbits, are nearer the 
color of rats, and not so large as a gray-squirrel. 
The little conical-shaped mounds which form their 
dwellings (though hardly higher than the ant-hills 
in this strange land), form prominent features in 
the landscape, showing a singular absence of the 
sense of danger, or need of protection, common to 
all animals in their native state. 

Herds of cattle are occasionally seen, though 
what they can find on this yellowish grey soil by 
which to support life is a mystery. That some 
have failed in the struggle for existence, bleached 
bones and skeletons along our path sadly testify. 
A stray emigrant train, drawn by patient oxen, 
threads tediously the old Indian trail, and in the 
distance, on our Western boundary, is a back- 
ground of snow-capped mountains, the Spanish 
peaks, the Custar range, and at Trinidad the adja- 
cent and awe-inspiring Fisher's Peak. It seems a 
few rods away, but we are assured it is 14 miles 
distant by actual measurement, such is the decep- 
tive brilliancy of this glorious air. We are fa- 
vored with many different views of this Gibraltar- 
like fortress as we skirt its borders, and, dividing 
our attention on the other side is another lofty 
eminence, surmounted by a monument, and known 


as Simpson's Rest, for here one of the old pio- 
neers was buried at his earnest request. Later in 
the day, we approach Wagon Mound, a summit of 
solid rock, up which the American soldiers with 
ropes once dragged their provision wagons when 
surrounded by Mexicans, only to meet slow starva- 
tion, surrender and pitiless massacre. Every 
point of interest in our course is carefully empha- 
sized by our ever vigilant porter, who seems to be 
a walking cyclopaedia of information, whose good 
nature is boundless, and whose patience threatens 
to eclipse that of Job, for did that ancient worthy 
ever stand the exacting test of a sleeping car } 

Then, leaving these heights, we ride for miles 
and yet other miles, without a tree or rock in 
sight, the land level as if it had been rolled, until 
it reaches and touches the distant sky. Just 
before twilight we reach Las Vegas Hot Springs, 
and here we become still further the recipients of 
the Raymond generosity, for a telegram from 
Boston directs that after spending a few hours at 
the Springs, (to test the boiling waters and climb 
to the turret of the pretty hotel, a veritable Hall 
of Montezuma, to enjoy the charming view), we 
are to be treated to a side trip not down in the 
bill, and move on during the night to Santa Fe, 
that we may spend Sunday in that quaint old 
town, the oldest in the country, for it ante-dates 
St. Augustine by some years, the Spaniards find- 


ing a settlement here in 1542, and calling the 
people pueblos, or villagers, to distinguish them 
from the native tribes. 

Who can ever forget a Sabbath spent in Santa 
Fe ? Even now in its freshness it seems like an 
impossible dream of the middle ages. We were 
first invited to Fort Marcy at 9, to witness Guard 
Mount (whatever that is), and inspection of guns, 
the soldier who owned the cleanest one being 
appointed boss of the squad for the day. (This is 
not a strict quotation from Hardee.) A very fine 
band is stationed here, and gave excellent selec- 
tions of sacred music, greatly appreciated by their 
impromptu audience. 

We next visit the Cathedral at the hour of mass, 
feeling as if we belonged to another race than that 
of the devout worshippers here assembled, while 
still realizing that we are all children of the same 
Infinite Father. The women all wore black shawls 
over their heads, gathered under the chin with a 
peculiar grasp of the left hand. We then seek 
the little Presbyterian church established here 
and attend its service, after which we stroll about 
the narrow streets, designed only for donkey 
travel, or burros, as the tough little creatures are 
called, these primitive thoroughfares boasting no 
sidewalks but are lined with low adobe houses, 
whose unattractive exteriors are often a mask to 
conceal the home within, the pleasant court-yard 


with its verdure, upon which the living rooms 
open. We look up occasionally at the stars and 
stripes waving over the fort to convince ourselves 
that the Atlantic does not roll between us ^nd 
home, for the town seems like a leaf from old 
Spain, certainly like nothing American, or pro- 

In the plaza, a park in the centre of the town, 
stands a monument to the bravery of those sol- 
diers who fell fighting the rebels, the only inscrip- 
tion which includes that word " rebel," in the 

The Ramona school for the education of Indian 
children, under the auspices of the A. M. A., is 
located here, as also a governmental school, and 
the University of New Mexico. The Territorial 
Capitol building is very fine. 

But the most interesting thing we learned at 
Santa Fe was that in a low building fronting on 
the plaza, erected in 1581, Gen. Lew Wallace, 
for some time Governor of New Mexico, penned 
his famous "Ben Hur." No wonder that he de- 
scribed Jerusalem scenery and characteristics so 
accurately, for its every quaint and ancient feature 
here abounds, even to the mountains that are 
round about Jerusalem, surmounted by the peak, 
12,000 feet above the sea, which never, in winter 
or in summer, doffs its eternal crown of snow. 




PASSING from New Mexico into Arizona dur- 
ing the night, the tourist opens his eyes 
when the next morning dawns, upon a still wider 
stretch of plains, on longer areas of sterile waste, 
until he feels ready to exclaim : " Is there no end 
to this country ? " And yet the monotony never 
becomes wearisome to this merry party, who sel- 
dom fail to pour tumultuously out onto the plat- 
form of every little station where we stop to take 
on water or ice, and if time permits, the town is 
invaded, stores visited, shanties inspected that 
often bear signs of disproportionate size, labelled 
"Palace Hotel," " Big Lunch, 5 cts.," or "Aunt 
Hannah's Pioneer Store," this proprietress being, 
she affirms, a Boston lady, who having kept the 
store 53 years, is desirous of selling out and re- 
turning to her native city, a decision of which our 
Eastern capitalists on the lookout for investments, 
should become cognizant. Most of the towns in 
this far West are lighted at evening by electric 


lights, they have cable, or electric cars, an example 
which some Eastern cities have since followed. 

At noon, the wild Canon Diablo is passed, an 
utterly barren gorge of rocks and on the iron 
bridge which crosses it, the train pauses a little 
longer than some weak nerves prefer that all may 
inspect this natural wonder. And now the San 
Francisco mountains rear their heads across our 
horizon, and the scene grows wilder. Flag-Staff 
is passed (so-called because on an adjacent peak. 
Gen. Fremont hoisted the American flag), and 
here also is a quarry of red stone used by Los 
Angeles builders. Then for some time we wind 
around Williams' Mountain, a grand height, with 
the tombstone to the old pioneer whose name it 
bears, plainly visible on its summit, and just before 
nightfall we thread our narrow, tortuous course 
around Johnson's canon, a dangerous chasm, whose 
precipitous depths, and jagged outlines, as viewed 
from our narrow perch on the mountain's side, we 
are glad to leave behind. 

"The Needles," a narrow pass, which with the 
Colorado river forms the boundary line between 
Arizona and California are passed at midnight, 
together with the eastern portion of the Mojave 
desert, but there is desert enough to hold out into 
another day, and still wider, sandy, barren, alka- 
line plains greet our waking eyes, salt lying in 
places white as a hoar frost, the only attempt at 


vegetation being occasional clumps of low bushes 
of dusty-miller white, and others of a waxy livid 
green, forming a most effective contrast. Beauty 
never forgets her earth-child anywhere, under any 
circumstances. But in the desert, we sympathize 
with the pauper child who exclaimed on first view- 
ing the ocean : '' I niver saw enough of anything 
at onct, before." We begin to speculate as to the 
possibility of a terminus to this road. Two 
straight parallel lines, we recall, never meet at any 
given point, and the iron rails we tread are of this 

But sterility reigns only without. Far too reg- 
ularly the announcement is made that '^ Lunch," 
or "Dinner is now ready in the dining-car"; a 
summons often greeted with a look of comical 
dismay that expresses: "have we got to go 
through that ordeal so soon again }'' For the pre- 
siding genii of that dining-car might well be 
arrested for cruelty to animals, so abundantly do 
they provide the choicest viands to this indolent, 
un-exercised, over-fed, pampered freight of live- 

At noon we begin our ascent of the Sierra 
Madre range of mountains, rising 215 feet to the 
mile amid the sublimest scenery on every side, 
until we reach at the summit, Cajone Pass, which 
is grand beyond description, and begin our descent 
toward the San Bernardino valley, or as some one 



calls it — God's own country. As wc proceed, new- 
growths excite our surprise and wonder ; yucca 
palms as large as good-sized apple trees, the 
prickly-pear cactus of immense size, bearing a 
fruitage of pears, which are here sent to market ; 
later on, as we approach civilization, plumes of 
pampas-grass, century plants that have blossomed 
and still bear aloft their huge crests, 60 to 80 feet 
high, with many new flowers and plants whose 
names we have yet to learn. 

Speculation has been rife all day as to what time 
we shall ''get in," as if we were on shipboard 
in a trackless waste of water, instead of an ocean 
of land ; the passage of an eastward-bound over- 
land train is calculated upon, as to what time 
it left Los Angeles, and now the hour of separa- 
tion for this jolly family approaches. Maps and 
chattels are collected, autographs exchanged, fare- 
wells are waved to a carload of tourists that leaves 
us for the Redlands, a fruit-bearing district, of 
whose fertility and rapid growth we have heard 
such frlowine: accounts from some of its residents, 
our pleasant travelling companions, most of them 
New England people of sterling worth ; we also 
take leave of another coterie, who branch off into 
the Pomona valley, and at dusk, we too alight upon 
"the crown of all the valley," fair, unrivalled 




CALIFORNIA is not all a Paradise, for we 
have traversed miles of dreary, barren 
waste within her borders, but if there is an Edenic 
garden on earth, one fit for the occupancy of the 
primeval pair, that spot is Pasadena. It is true 
we know not what awaits us in other portions of 
this Golden State, but we are constantly meeting 
people who having tried a residence in all other 
localities, return delightedly to this beautiful San 
Gabriel valley. 

Along its northern borders stretches the Sierra 
Madre range of mountains, a barrier that effectu- 
ally protects the city nestling at its feet from 
every rude, cold blast, and adds to it yet another 
blessing, that of pure water, the principal supply 
coming from Devil's Gate, though one would 
naturally look for fire from this source rather than 
cooling springs. The charm also of grandeur and 
sublimity, Pasadena by this proximity, does not 
lack. With David, we "lift our eyes unto the 
hills," for we cannot help it. They entice us, 
they appal us, they command our reverence, they 


invite our ever changing admiration by their shift- 
ing phases. Severe in outhne, seamed with 
gorges, and chasms, producing thus a strange 
wrinkled effect as if some Titan hand held aloft a 
vast drapery that thence fell naturally in seam, 
and crease, and fold ; almost barren of vegetation, 
seemingly unwooded, though we are assured that 
impenetrable forests exist in some of their wild- 
est depths, but in compensation for this softening 
charm of New England hills, the loftier Sierras 
veil themselves in shadowy mists and vapors, they 
play hide seek with fleecy clouds, that drift across 
their breasts and lurk in their deep valleys, while 
still rearing aloft their hoary heads into the clear 
blue ether which envelopes them with a light that 
was never seen before on sea or land, while 
grander than all, old '' Baldy" smiles down on the 
fertile valley from his realm of snow. Cruel 
mothers (madres), these jagged peaks have proved 
to many venturesome climbers, nearly a dozen 
people having perished here in the last three 
years, in sight of home, being lured into some 
chasm, or death-trap, from which there was no 

On a lofty summit of the range, known as 
Wilson's Peak, has been recently established the 
Southern Pacific Observatory, for which Messrs. 
Alvan Clark and Sons, are manufacturing what it 
is expected will prove the largest lens in the world. 


Sixteen years ago last summer (in 1873), a little 
colony from Indiana emigrated westward to select 
a location for a new home in the then barren wilds 
of California. Arriving in Los Angeles in August, 
they thoroughly examined localities in San Diego 
and San Bernardino counties, but finally selected 
the present site of Pasadena as offering the 
greatest advantages of soil, water and scenery, and 
the world now applauds the wisdom of their choice. 
But when our pioneers first settled here, in all this 
region now teeming with fertility and luxuriance 
of fruitful growth on every hand, not a tree exist- 
ed, save two or three live-oaks, and the whole 
plateau was one sheet of flame under the reign of 
the golden poppy, so common in California. 

When a name for the little colony was sought, 
that of Indianpla was discussed as indicative of its 
origin, but to the late Dr. T. B. Elliot is due the 
suggestion of Pasadena, an Iroquois word signify- 
ing the " Crown of the Valley," a title which by 
every right it holds. 

With a rapidity of cultivation almost incredible 
to Eastern experience, the town is now one vast 
garden and orange grove, though this latter desig- 
nation seems to us a misnomer. A ''grove" to 
New England ears suggests a spontaneous growth 
of tallish trees which cast a shade upon the green- 
sward, or tangled underbrush beneath. There is 
no shade in an orange orchard, and if there were. 


we could not walk therein, for no grass is allowed 
to grow, as in our apple orchards. The ground is 
kept constantly plowed and irrigated. The trees, 
set twenty to thirty feet apart, diamond-wise, are 
short and bushy, and very handsome. Their 
foliage of dark rich glossy green is tipped on all 
out-lying branches with a new growth of lightest 
marine green, producing a weird effect of contrast, 
and on these showy banners, white fragrant 
blossoms appear, while at the same time, hanging 
thickly in the dense heart of the tree is the golden 
ripening fruit, making one of the most beautiful, 
picturesque objects that Nature, even in this her 
most lavish workshop, can produce. 

The eucalyptus tree, a native of Australia, 
abounds here, and is a rapid grower, although it 
reveals much indecision of purpose, as to whether 
it will prove itself first cousin to the willow or 
the poplar, two and often three distinct types of 
leaves, in shape and color, appearing on the same 
tree. It invariably begins existence in a different 
frame of mind from that which maturer reflection 

And who shall describe that graceful, airy 
growth, that sensitive plant aspiring skyward, 
known as the pepper-tree 1 Each leaf a pendant 
fern, of the most delicate spring green, massed to- 
gether in luxuriant clusters, and drooping a little 
like the weeping-willow though not so much, while 


hanging from every finger-tip are long graceful 
racemes of small crimson berries, of green ones 
just forming, or of delicate sprays of greenish- 
white blossoms, all on dress-parade at once, and 
emitting a spicy, pungent odor that makes a walk 
beneath their shade most agreeable. Marengo 
avenue in this city, as well as many other pleasant 
drives, are lined with these beautiful pepper-trees 
of such advanced growth that their branches meet 
in a graceful arch over the street, which forms 
a vista in perspective almost too weird in its love- 
liness to belong to this mundane sphere. 

Miles of low cypress hedge, that lends itself so 
readily to any device of the pruner's knife, to 
arches, gateposts surmounted by urns, vases, or 
baskets with graceful handles, adorn or enclose 
handsome residences everywhere. And of the- 
flowers one hesitates to speak unless the pen 
could be dipped in rainbow dye. Climatic con- 
ditions being here so perfect and so exceptional, 
only the lightest frost two or three times a year 
being ever ex^^erienced, no fires necessary in an 
ordinary season, even at Christmas, open doors 
and seats on the veranda being enjoyable save at 
evening or early morn, plants of all kinds have 
nothing else to do but grow without ceasing, 
missing thus the customary experience of their 
Eastern sisters who are seized by the nape of their 
slender necks just as they get into the mood of 


growing and are hustled into a close room, stifled 
with foul gas, and often sit with their feet in cold 
water eight months out of twelve. It is a wonder 
that they ever reward us with fragrant blossoms. 
Growing on then, year after year, it is no wonder 
that geraniums and rosebushes here become trees 
bristling with brilliant petals, that fuschias and 
lantanas grow beyond recognition, that arbutilons 
above our heads swing their myriad bright bells 
upon the air, that smilax spontaneously reaches 
the eaves, that ivy-geraniums cover stone walls, 
arbors, anything their delicate fingers can twine 
around, that heliotropes grow trunks that bid fair 
to rival that of an elephant, that dense flower- 
crowned hedges of callas mark boundary lines, 
that — that — in short, that Nature having lost all 
run of seasons, and her usual methodical habits of 
alternate rest and action, runs madly riot, being 
drunken with new wine — the wine of the elixir of 




THE chief criticism we have heard of Pasadena 
is that there is not enough of it. But we 
have found it too wide in extent, its attractions 
too numerous to speedily exhaust. Day after day 
we thread its thoroughfares, or take its intersect- 
ins: Hnes of horse or mule cars ; we drive into the 
adjoining country, but our list of unvisited lions is 
still a long one. We make no allowance in our 
delightful excursions for unfavorable weather, 
since day after day the sky is as clear as if it had 
been swept, the sun warm as June, making out- 
side wraps unnecessary, and yet while basking in 
this sunshine which knows no shadow, Pasadena 
reports no case of sunstroke, no mad-dogs, or 
thunder showers. Its people are mostly of East- 
ern birth and thence, it goes without saying, most in- 
telligent, while possessing that warm, open-hearted 
cordiality so characteristic of this genial clime, a 
spirit too often crowded out by the nervous ten- 
sion of our own work-a-day atmosphere. 

One of the first out-lying attractions to command 
our attention is naturally ''The Raymond," and 


one uses the word ''command" advisedly, for it is 
like a city set upon a hill ; it cannot be hid, cannot 
be forgotten, as its fine proportions are always in 
sight from any point. Built upon a bold promon- 
tory, evidently designed from the foundation of 
the world for its occupancy, an exhilarating climb 
or winding drive brings us to its, at present, inhos- 
pitable doors, for this grand hotel does not open 
until late in November, but its wide verandas, glist- 
ening in their spic-and-span attire of new paint in- 
vite the promenader to enjoy a view from every side 
which can hardly be surpassed in any land. And 
when surfeited with the grandeur that is remote, 
with the charm of rugged mountain and fertile 
valley, one turns enraptured to the beauty that is 
near at hand, for surrounding the hotel is a broad 
esplanade bordered with perpetually blooming 
flowers, with clambering vines that embower the 
entrances, with strange new foliage exciting fresh 
wonder and inquiry, until the luxuriance of this 
encircling garden ripples over its boundaries and 
runs down every path and avenue and rolling lawn 
of this green hillside. The goddess. Flora, holds 
royal court on this noble crest, and she drapes her 
myriad retinue with a thousand glorious dyes. 
Brilliancy, color and fragrance are everywhere at 
high tide. 

Extending our drive beyond ''The Raymond," 
through fertile ranches, given largely to orange, 


lemon and grape culture, the grapes being grown 
in European fashion, untrellised, and trimmed 
close to the ground, we soon reach the quiet little 
town of Alhambra, whence through a level avenue 
whose wide-reaching orange groves are fringed 
with waving pepper trees, we pass on through an 
almost dry river bed to the old San Gabriel Mis- 
sion, the fourth established in Upper California 
(in 1 771) by the Franciscan fathers, when banished 
from Spanish provinces. The present building, 
the ttiird one erected here, is a long narrow struc- 
ture of massive stone walls adobe-covered, with 
ten buttresses of brick, being intended for defense 
as well as worship, with a quaint bell-tower, and 
stairway of brick on the outside leading to the 
choir gallery. The windows are few and small, 
and placed very near the roof. An unlaundered, 
but very intelligent priest showed us through the 
interior which is adorned with full length portraits 
of the apostles, ''genuine Murillos " (so he said), 
every one of them, painted by the artist as models, 
not as church property, and donated from the 
royal galleries at Madrid by Ferdinand and Isa- 
bella, (though not delivered till the reign of Charles 
v.), for the express purpose of assisting in the con- 
version of the wild Indian tribes through object 
lessons that could appeal to the eye. 

The little Mexican village of San Gabriel is a 
most uncanny place. One breathes more freely 


when its one narrow street with its encroaching 
low adobe hilts, has been passed. Its swarthy in- 
habitants have no vocabulary in common with our 
own save the one word " Meeshun," and a twitch of 
the arm in the right direction. We know they 
are the very same who helped to fell the timber 
when the sanctuary was built, for nothing ever 
could change here. The place was born old, so 
old that Cain might have found his wife in this 

A most interesting place to visit, at the other 
side of Pasadena, is the Ostrich farm, this "hand- 
some " climate proving favorable to their success- 
ful culture. Three birds have been raised here 
from babyhood that are now fourteen months old 
and seven or eight feet high ; the rest of the 
brood are Australian emigrants and can rest their 
chins on a nine foot pole, although but four years 
old, and no ostrich reaches his full growth till he 
attains the age of seven years. Strange ballet- 
dancer kind of a bird, as awkward in pose as a 
novice in her first tights, and yet moving with a 
certain majestic dignity of bearing that is ''very 
like " a camel. The carriage of the long ungainly 
neck also, and the construction of the foot reveals 
this early companionship of the desert. How in- 
teresting are these connecting links in the great 
chain of life, links forged by the marvellous wis- 
dom and diversity of the Creative Mind. 


The ostrich has a clear liquid dark eye, as large 
as a calf's though with far more expression, which 
displays a peculiar scintillating flash ; he has a 
broad flat head, a beak of generous proportions, 
short tongue and no teeth, and when a dozen pair 
of these piercing eyes, from the top of long, sway- 
ing, animated lamp-wicks hover in the air above 
and around you, or examine your hat-trimming as 
well as your hands for stray kernels of corn, the 
effect is rather startling. It is likewise most amus- 
ing to see them fill their mouths with water from 
the tank, then slowly raise their heads to allow it to 
run down the yard or more of gullet, its passage 
being plainly visible to the attentive observer. 
What would not the gourmand give for an organ 
of taste thus elongated ? 

Feeling doubtless that they were on exhibition, 
with their reputation at stake, a few of the birds 
showed their paces, flapped their wings, and exe- 
cuted a pas seul, with a strange mixture of awk- 
wardness and grace that was suggestive of nothing 
more than Dixie as *'The Flower Girl." 

The kindly old gentleman who has the troupe in 
charge gave much valuable information concern- 
ing the birds, and corrected many mistaken 
opinions regarding themo They are plucked of 
their feathers about twice a year, or once in seven 
months, they lay about ten or twelve eggs in a 
season, which are invariably hatched by the sun 


shining upon their sand covered nests, as the birds 
rarely sit upon them. They are moreover, staunch 
metaphysicians, for they are never ill, and no 
disease ever attacks them. Their only weakness 
is a sensible preference for hot weather. If ex- 
posed to cold, they are simply found dead the next 
morning. They make no fuss about it, but quietly 
step out in search of a warmer clime. 

No letter from Pasadena ever omits to extol this 
locality as a health resort. The present notice 
must therefore remain incomplete, for we who are 
enfranchised from bondage to the flesh, whose 
real habitat is the realm of spirit, recognize no 
East or West, no favorable or unfavorable physical 
conditions, being freed therefrom, and dwelling, in 
any land, "forever with the Lord" of all health 
and wholeness. 




IN the early and prosperous days of the Spanish 
Mission in California, soldiers were stationed 
at the various sanctuaries whose service it was to 
forcibly capture converts from the native tribes 
and awe them into submission, indeed it is re- 
corded of one worthy father, who was very skillful 
in the use of the lasso, that " riding at full gallop 
into an Indian village, he would select his man as 
a slave-driver would his human chattel, he would 
lasso him, drag him to the Mission, tie him up and 
whip him into subjection, baptize him. Christianize 
him (?) and set him to work, all within the space 
of one hour ; then away for another, without rest, 
such was his zeal for tJie conversioii of mfidehy 

What wonder that such *' conversions " resulted 
in the degradation and ultimate extinction of these 
tribes, for, savage foes as they proved to other 
assailants, they strangely enough made little re- 
sistance to these peremptory measures of the holy 
fathers. Superstition holds such potent sway over 
the untutored mind. 


Eventually it became necessary to provide some 
place of residence where the Mission soldiers who 
had so valiantly served their time, and who still 
desired to remain in this country, might retire 
with their families. For this purpose an order 
dated at San Gabriel Mission, August 26, 1781, 
was issued by the Governor of California — Felipe 
de Neve — directing the establishment of a pueblo, 
or town, upon the site lately occupied by the 
Indian village, Yang-na. This new town was to 
be under the especial patronage and fostering pro- 
tection of ''Our Lady, the Queen of the Angels," 
and to be known by her name. La Pueblo de la 
Reina de los Angeles, a title since shortened to 
the City of the Angels, or Los Angeles. 

Situated in a level plain of wide extent, with 
high mountain ranges at her back, and an ocean at 
her feet, while on either hand stretches the most 
extensive fruit-bearing country in the world, how 
could this fair city fail to thrive and flourish and 
grow as if indeed all good angels smiled upon her.-* 
She numbers to-day 80,000 inhabitants, and her 
rniles of broad level avenues are filled with fine 
buildings and noble residences that might serve 
as architectural models, including a City Hall and 
Post Office of which she may well be proud ; they 
abound with granite blocks, hotels and stores 
stocked as choicely as the emporiums of our 
Eastern merchants, indeed we have seldom visited 


a more enterprising, stirring, energetic, and wide- 
awake city. It seems destined to become the 
second metropolis of this extensive coast, and 
being situated 500 miles nearer the tropics than 
San Francisco, in a climate and amid natural sur- 
roundings that are faultless, it must remain a 
favorite place of residence. 

It uses the adjacent port of San Pedro for its 
already extensive commerce with Alaska, Mexico, 
and the islands of the sea, but a favorite beach- 
resort, thirteen miles distant, is Santa Monica, 
where an enjoyable day can be spent. It was 
here that we first sighted the broad Pacific. 
Balboa must look to his laurels, we too have 
discovered it. And it is like the Atlantic 
as are two halves of an orange. There is 
the same uneasy restlessness, and tumultuous 
heaving and throbbing of its mighty heart, the 
same ceaseless moan and sob and wail, the 
embodiment of everything that is sad, dreary, 
cruel, and pitiless, its miserere possibly for the 
many brave souls it has dragged down and 
crushed with greedy embrace. Obedient to the 
same attractions, paying court to the same fickle 
lunar dame, whether in coquettish mood she 
veils her face or illuminates these watery depths 
with the broad fulness of her radiant beams, the 
Pacific, like her ocean twin, beats time in regular 
rhythm to the anthem of the universe, with her 


advancing and retreating tides that roll in white- 
teethed breakers on the same sandy floor, or chase 
the receding feet that venture too boldly upon 
their domain. 

But looking landward we at last mark a dif- 
ference. The Nantaskets and Reveres of our 
Atlantic coast boast no mountains like this 
Santa Monica range which runs down one arm of 
the little bay quite to the water's edge. Their 
sweet breath likewise fills all the air. The briny, 
fishy odor which our olfactories can recall is to 
a landsman most blessedly conspicuous by its 
absence. The usual barren waste of beach-resorts, 
their scanty verdure, the puny spindling trees 
that struggle bravely to eke out a half-existence 
are here replaced by an adjacent garden whose 
boundary hedges are a thick mass of blooming 
Marguerites, whose taller growths are date-palms, 
banana trees, and magnolias bearing their huge 
white waxen flowers upturned to the sun, inviting 
the bees, the butterflies, and humming-birds to 
bathe, at will, in their chalices of fragrant nectar. 

Shells of new varieties abound here, and there 
is one other oddity noticeable. Old Sol has lost 
his bearings, Hke everything else, in this land of 
topsy-turvy. We have been accustomed, in re- 
garding the ocean at mid-day, to have the sun and 
the long lane of light which he casts upon the 
wave, and which every separate ripple delights to 


catch a little of and run away with, on our right 
hand. Here he had the effrontery, as we face the 
Pacific, to offend our sense of fitness by pouring 
forth all his glory upon our left hand, and seems 
to guide his course directly toward the East. If 
we turn about and get him in the right quarter of 
the heavens, the ocean is behind us ; our mariner's 
compass is de-polarized, and at last we realize that 
we have indeed crossed the continent. 

The little town of Santa Monica close by, boasts 
a pleasant park, an extensive ostrich farm, and 
three miles away in a verdant plain, occupying 
three spacious red-roofed buildings, is the Soldiers' 
Home, whose inmates have so dearly bought the 
comforts they now enjoy. A farmer whom we 
pass is ploughing with three mules abreast, a large 
blue heron flies startled from a reedy swamp, 
strange looking creature with his long legs and 
bill to float in the air, other unfamiliar voices war- 
ble in our ears, mocking-birds call to us from 
their leaf -embowered nests, while warm, fragrance- 
laden breezes efface the memory of bare, leafless 
trees and chilling blasts which we have known 
at this season. In this land "where everlasting 
spring abides, and never-fading flowers," we won- 
der if indeed 'it can be November anywhere. 




FROM earliest childhood the praises of Santa 
Barbara, more than of any other spot in 
California have been chanted in our ears ; it has 
been pictured as the most favored haunt of Flora 
and Pomona, the chosen resort of poet and artist 
who find in its golden, dolce far niente atmosphere 
that inspiration sought in vain in harsher climes. 
It has offered health to the invalid, peace to the 
restless and broken in spirit, wealth to the in- 
vestor, a perpetual delight to the visiting traveller, 
such as no other locality can, because forsooth, 
there is but one Santa Barbara in the world. Ex- 
travagant anticipations are rarely realized. Per- 
haps we had expected too much, or it was unfor- 
tunate that we did not visit this spot prior to our 
acquaintance with Pasadena, the contrast to that 
city's immaculate neatness and lavish cultivation 
being here so marked. 

Yet charms Santa Barbara undoubtedly pos- 
sesses of a very high order. Its climate is perhaps 
without a parallel. Unlike many other southern 


resorts which omit winter from their calendar, it 
omits summer also, so that there is almost no 
change of seasons. Its placid resident does not 
spend six months of every year in preparing for 
the remaining semester, as in less favored New 
England. He knows neither torrid days nor frigid 
nights ; the wear and tear of life is reduced to a 
minimum, likewise it would seem its zest and high- 
est achievement. Mercury seldom ranges higher 
than our average summer days, and never drops to 
the freezing point. The most tender flowers bloom 
perpetually, unless forced to rest by being de- 
prived of irrigation. Fruits of all kinds are always 
ripe. Strawberry short-cake was served in the 
waning days of November, also green peas, and 
tomatoes from a plant seven years old, that had 
borne continually. Oh yes, a climate that can 
lead the world we cheerfully concede to Santa 

It is also "beautiful for situation," covering the 
pleasant slope from the base of the Santa Ynez 
mountains, which form its picturesque background, 
down to the lovely Bay, not unlike the Bay of 
Naples in contour, whose misty horizon line is 
broken twenty miles away by three verdant islands, 
one of them being used as a ranch by the largest 
sheep owners in the world. There is also here a 
pretty curving beach, too rocky however for com- 
fortable bathing, with a swiftly-running surf that 


one can stand to his heart's content to enjoy, but 
there is no opportunity to sit and list to the wild 
wave's roar, for a brief moment. No hotel is 
erected within sight or sound of the beach, no 
platform, no toboggan-slide, not even a pop-corn 
stand. One can stand, or wade in the deep sand, 
and then walk away at his leisure. Here again we 
heartily wish that some wiser heads than our own 
would inform us why the air of this coast refuses to 
hold any saline particles in solution. In approach- 
ing the Atlantic shores one inhales its briny 
breath, while still some miles inland. Here, wdth 
a mighty ocean at our very gates, there is no sug- 
gestion of even moisture in the atmosphere, and 
yet its breezes must temper the torrid heats we 
should otherwise expect in this latitude. 

Santa Barbara is a city of one street, leading 
straight as an arrow from the terminus of its long 
ocean pier (where steamers pause daily en route to 
San Diego or San Francisco), for two miles out 
toward the mesas, or foot hills. This unshaded 
thoroughfare has a fine smooth asphaltum floor, 
making a pleasant cleanly, though noisy driveway, 
whose borders are devoted almost wholly to busi- 
ness. Leading from this main street are short 
side avenues where pretty residences abound, 
though far less attention is paid here to the adorn- 
ment of grounds than in the Eden to which our 
eyes have been recently accustomed. The Arling- 


ton sits pleasantly in its park of palms and flowers, 
and at one private residence we saw ten varieties 
of the passion-flower ; at another twenty-two 
kinds of palm trees. Everything is possible in the 
way of floral culture, but the resident seems tired. 
This place, like every other in southern Cali- 
fornia, has had its boom, and energy is at low ebb 
under the collapse of Fortune's bubble. 

Of the 8000 inhabitants which Santa Barbara 
boasts, the foreign element in its population is, at 
present, very large, about a dozen swarthy Mexi- 
can faces being met to that of every white man. 
This brings a rough, rowdy, surly atmosphere to 
the promenade most unwelcome, indeed quite un- 
bearable to the spiritually sensitive. In fact, here 
as elsewhere the lady pedestrian is the observed 
of all observers. Woman usually drives, (a span 
at that), and like Jehu driveth furiously, or she 
rides. Equestrian exercise, for both sexes, is be- 
gun we should judge at the tender age of three 
years, and thereafter steadily followed at a break- 
neck pace. One gentleman here owns a saddle 
upon which by his order $4000 of Mexican coins 
has been affixed. Single equipages are the excep- 
tion in California. Horses must be more plenty 
here than in Mass., for grocers, butchers, milk- 
men, even the John Chinamen, in collecting for 
their laundries, almost invariably drive a span. 

The old Mission Church of Santa Barbara is 


the best preserved and finest of its kind in the 
country. It is still occupied by holy padres who 
hold services regularly. Founded as it v^as, Dec. 
4, 1786, which happened to be the feast-day of the 
somewhat obscure saint Barbara (a daughter of 
Dioscurus, in ancient Bithynia, beheaded by her 
father because of her persistent allegiance to the 
Christian faith), her name was given to this Mis- 
sion and to the Presidio, the first old town, or 
fortress, which was 1000 feet square, enclosed by 
a high adobe wall. The walls of the church are 
eight feet in thickness, and we heard rumors of a 
garden in the rear of the sanctuary to which the 
appreciative eye and contaminating presence of 
woman is never admitted. There is also a cem- 
etery, originally intended for the burial of Indian 
converts. The Indian population was once very 
large in this region, and no locality is richer in 
Indian relics. To this day the place is very 
slightly tinctured with the flavor of Uncle Sam's 
dominions, for when we offered to a fruit dealer 
an ordinary one dollar greenback, it was greeted 
with shouts of merriment, a thorough examination 
on all sides of the paper legal tender, with an 
amused estimate of how long a time had elapsed 
since the recipient had seen ** one of them things 

The surrounding views are very fine, and to 
enjoy one of the loveliest panoramas this mundane 


sphere can offer, we drove to the hot springs seven 
miles away, situated in a wild precipitous gorge of 
the Santa Ynez range, where twenty-eight springs 
gush forth from the face of perpendicular sand- 
stone cliffs, at a temperature of from 120 to 130 
Fahrenheit, no two fonts in this strange laboratory 
of Nature being impregnated alike, some so strong 
of sulphur as to be yellow in tint, while others are 
of pure arsenic. Leaving our carriages here, we 
walk thence a mile or more to the summit of 
Lookout, or Lone Mountain, by a narrow trail 
whose tangled undergrowth is the southern-wood, 
or the *'old man " of our country gardens. 

We reach the peak suddenly at last with a 
surprise that no exclamation can exhaust. Before 
us the glassy bay, beyond the illimitable depths of 
the broad, calm Pacific, at our feet and on either 
side the loveliest of valleys. Santa Barbara on 
the right is a delight to the eye, while on our left 
stretch the fertile fields of Carpinteria, and of 
Montecito, where we have viewed the largest grape 
vine in the world (measurements become tire- 
some), of Summerland, where the Spiritualists of 
this coast have founded a colony, on to Buenaven- 
tura, where was established a still earlier Mission, 
while behind and around us and them rise a suc- 
cession of jagged peaks, that make of our own 
hardly-won height, a pigmy in comparison. We 
look down into fruit orchards, into acres of pampas- 


grass whose snowy plumes are here cultivated for 
the market, we trace the shining rails of what 
seems from this altitude a toy railway in its course 
along the beach for thirty miles ere it is lost 
between mountain walls in its five hour's search 
for Los Angeles. And along its narrow path, at 
frequent intervals, and often in most forbidding 
environments, are scattered sparse clusters of 
hamlets, whose occupants we fancy must often 
voice the song of Arne : 

" What shall I see if I ever go 
Over yon mountains high ? ' 




PASADENA has a twin, and her name is Riv- 
erside. They are both "in verdure clad" 
right royally, and possess many attributes in com- 
mon, resembling each other more closely perhaps 
in age, in rapid growth, and many minor charac- 
teristics than any other two cities of California. 
Pasadena is much the larger place ; and while con- 
ceding to it a superior situation, a beauty of adorn- 
ment, and a home-like charm found nowhere else, 
we must grant to Riverside the palm of fruit-cul- 
ture. The acme of orange-fruitage is certainly 
attained here, both in extent and in quality. The 
orchards are indeed "groves," the trees being so 
large and full as to completely overshadow and 
hide the residences, which we know exist some- 
where in their green depths. 

Riverside is situated in San Bernardino County, 
seven miles from Colton. This county, by the 
way, is the largest in the United States. Within 
its borders fifteen States the size of " little Rhody " 
could be placed without crowding. The Santa 


Ana river runs through the neighborhood, hence 
the name — Riverside — chosen for the settlement 
in 1 87 1, when the gigantic scheme for irrigation 
was begun. The soil of Riverside is a red clay 
mixed with sand — washed probably from the 
mountain, — a most unpromising, sterile-looking 
soil, but needing evidently only a little scratching 
and a plentiful supply of water to prove itself 
especially adapted to fruits of all kinds. Ener- 
getic labor was not lacking in the early settlers of 
this happily chosen locality, and their canal system 
of irrigation challenges the admiration of every 
visitor. The river above the town was tapped, and 
two cemented canals constructed, twelve and four- 
teen miles long, ten to twenty feet wide, from 
which sub-canals (100 miles of them) surround 
every block, with gateways through which the 
water can be admitted to the grounds from the 
main artery, at pleasure. 

Water is never allowed at the immediate base 
of an orange tree. Furrows are ploughed five or 
six feet from the trunk of each tree, and two or 
three feet apart, making perhaps three furrows 
between each row of trees, these furrows all con- 
necting with each other throughout the grove, 
for miles in length, so that when the water is 
admitted from the outer surrounding channel, as 
it is once in thirty days during the summer, it 
flows gently round in little rills, where it can be 


best appropriated by the young rootlets. The 
system is perfect, and the results correspondingly 
rich. Over 900 car-loads of golden fruit were 
shipped from Riverside last year, and it is 
expected the crop will reach 1,200 car-loads this 

Lemons, olives, apricots, and pomegranates are 
also extensively grown, and raisin culture is an 
important feature of Riverside industry, a quarter 
of a million dollars accruing last year from this 
product alone, which is of a quality to compete 
most favorably with foreign importations. The 
White Muscat grape is cultivated for this purpose, 
and if the printer renders the word Mascot, the 
mistake would not be a bad one, for such it has 
proved to many a lucky owner. The vines are 
planted about three feet apart, giving 660 vines to 
the acre, they are trimmed back to the dry stump 
each fall, and require comparatively little care. 
After the grapes are picked they are spread, while 
still in the field, in so-called sweat-boxes, though 
they do not really sweat. • The moisture of the 
grape permeates the mass, softening the stems, 
and after two or three days they are sorted into 
three different grades of excellence, dried, win- 
nowed, and packed ; and most interesting is it to 
watch one or two hundred girls, with deft fingers 
arranging the layers in boxes ready for shipment. 

Riverside is some seven miles long and two or 


three miles wide. It abounds in enticing walks 
and shady drives, the perennially green pepper 
trees drooping in graceful arches everywhere. 
Each block contains two and a half acres, near the 
centre of which the resident rears his home, and 
sitting there on his pleasant veranda allows the 
sun to do his work for him, or waits for its golden 
beams to be absorbed by the numberless trees 
around him, until they hang with golden balls and 
his good fortune is assured. Less attention is 
given here to floral embellishment than at Pasa- 
dena, although pretty gardens are very numerous, 
and masses of verbenas often border the curb- 
stones. We notice another peculiarity of this 
California atmosphere. It not only fails to retain 
the briny odor of the sea, but does not readily 
transmit the fragrance of flowers. A certain 
gauge of humidity, or density of the air seems 
necessary to encourage this subtle floral charm. 
How intoxicating in our New England gardens is 
the sweet breath of even one hehotrope, or one 
stalk of tuberose ! Here one has to approach the 
lusty growth and mammoth petals closely to in- 
vite their familiar fragrance. Tuberoses grow 
on and on, at their own sweet will ; as soon 
as the flowers of one bulb have passed, another 
stalk springs up to take its place. 

The show-card of Riverside is of course Mag- 
nolia Avenue, the finest drive it is claimed in the 


world. To reach it, however, a drive of three 
miles from our pleasant quarters at the Glenwood 
is necessary. Back of Riverside as at Pasadena 
is an arroyo, or valley, 40 feet deep and a quarter 
of a mile wide. Crossing this, we reach a portion 
of the town known as Brockton square, because 
its residents are all natives of that thriving city 
of Mass. Next comes a strip of Government 
land, a mile wide, and then the tract named by 
some New York investors, Arlington, through 
which the beautiful avenue runs. Its width of 
132 feet is divided into a double drive by a mag- 
nificent continuous row of pepper-trees through 
its centre. On either side, and between the 
drives and the 20 feet wide promenades, is a 
varied growth of trees and palms, evergreens, the 
eucalyptus, which unless trimmed grows 8 to 15 
feet in height every year, the beautiful gravilia, 
and at the four corners of each intersecting ave- 
nue, a magnolia tree. Extend this vista, flecked 
with its enchanting lights and shades, its sun- 
beams crossed by waving branches, for ten miles. 
Imagine on its outer borders a thick green hedge 
which encloses residences that here find frontage, 
or orange groves that are simply endless in every 
direction, their glossy green boughs weighed down 
with their wealth of ripened fruit, and one can 
readily believe it all seems too lovely to be true, 
like an illusion of some magician's wand. 


Yet a few miles away, overlooking this valley, 
rise the San Bernardino mountains which mark the 
boundary line between fertility and sterility. 
Janus-like they stand, looking down on one side 
upon all this verdure and wonderful productive- 
ness, on the other side upon 23,000 square miles 
of desert waste stretching eastward and north- 
ward in alkaline plains, sulphur deposits, and arid 
barren sands. 

''Lo, these are parts of His ways; but the 
thunder of His power, who can understand? He 
setteth an end to darkness, and searcheth out all 




THE bay of San Diego, which forms one of 
the finest natural harbors in the world, was 
first discovered by Don Sebastian Viscaino, Nov. 
lo, 1602. He surveyed its waters two days later, 
which date happened to be the 260th anniversary 
of the death of San Diego, St. James de Alcala. 
The great explorer therefore christened his newly- 
found prize with the name of this patron saint, a 
choice approved and adopted by the Mission estab- 
lished here sixty years later, the earliest of the 
eighteen Missions founded in California, and the 
only one to accept a nomenclature already provided. 
Built in 1769, it was destroyed by an unexpected 
attack from the Indians in 1775 ; rebuilt in 1776, 
its only foe thereafter was the gentler but no less 
relentless destroyer — Time. It lies to-day a 
crumbling ruin, its roof fallen in, its arches open 
to the sky, its bells (which were cast in Spain) 
removed to the old village, six miles distant, where 
they hang suspended from a cross-beam, in the 
open air. 


This Old Town, as it is called, the original San 
Diego, four miles north of the present city, is a 
most interesting place to visit, as being the site of 
the first white settlement in California, and one of 
the oldest in the Republic. It bears an impress 
of age and decay which is quite pathetic. A 
modern Indian school is fostered here, there is a 
store or two, and a motor car-runs through its one 
street twice a day, creating a little ripple in the 
prevailing stagnation, but otherwise it is filled 
with ruins of old adobe huts, of roofless jagged 
walls slowly dropping to pieces, as the numerous 
gophers burrow beneath them, or the harmless 
lizards dart in and out of each sunny crevice. One 
feels a veritable Rip Van Winkle in Old Town. 
Some of these lowly dwellings are still occupied, 
their doorways screened by smilax, or a dense 
thatching of the California morning-glory, whose 
large sky-blue blossoms climb in luxuriant masses 
to the ridge-pole, their white centres gleaming like 
myriad stars. 

Overlooking the village, on Presidio Hill, is the 
half-obliterated embankment which marks the out- 
line of Fort Stockton, a relic of stormier days. 
And a still more interesting link of modern remi- 
niscence is the long low building fronting on the 
plaza designated by Mrs. Helen Hunt Jackson as 
the one in which Ramona was married. It was in 
Old Town that the gifted authoress heard the sad 


story of the maiden whose life she utilized for her 
romance, though it was a lady of Temecula whose 
first name suggested its title. We entered the 
deserted structure, and passed through its wide 
hall to the courtyard upon which its every room 
opens, the doors standing ajar, as if the rightful 
occupants would soon return. The exterior of 
the building was originally plastered but patches 
of the white plaster dropping away, exposes to 
view the brown adobe mud of-its foundation walls. 
The roof is of the Spanish tiling which somewhat 
resembles large broken flower-pots, the convex and 
concave layers facing each other in even rows. 
One feels a sad pity for the homeless bride, who 
had fled so far from that Camulos ranch, lying 
away to the north of Los Angeles, and who knew 
not what further trials awaited her in the future, 
but happily love makes every burden light. 

The modern city of San Diego is regularly laid 
out with broad avenues, suitably numbered and 
lettered, and very level, excepting on its northern 
boundary where Florence Hill rises somewhat ab- 
ruptly, crowned with fine residences. Its stores 
have an Eastern look, and the prices of goods are 
very reasonable. Its people are pleasant and affa- 
ble, and many are of New England birth. The 
chief natural charm of San Diego is undoubtably 
its equable climate, its uniform spring-like temper^ 
ature, in summer or in winter ; added to this, 


there is a buoyancy, a remarkable uplifting quality 
in the atmosphere. One does not feel that he 
weighs an ounce in San Diego, although the scales 
show a steady upward-going tendency. There are 
sea-turns and breezes occasionally, but these are 
tempered by the peninsula which lies between the 
Bay and the Ocean — fair Coronado. 

And one attempts the description of this excep- 
tionable seaside-resort most reluctantly, for it 
must be seen and felt to be thoroughly appre- 
ciated. With a temperature that allows fruits of 
tropical and temperate zones to ripen side by side, 
with a bay and an ocean on either hand, its beach 
one of the finest in the world, its surf magnificent, 
and with a radiant sunlit atmosphere that no pen 
can ever portray, or brush transmit, what wonder 
that this location was chosen for that Aladdin's 
palace — the Hotel del Coronado, the largest on 
the globe. It is a unique structure, with an archi- 
tectural style of its own, stretching itself easily 
and gracefully over seven acres of ground, enclos- 
ing thus a courtyard where rare flowers bloom be- 
neath the dashing spray of fountains, and palms 
shade the walks that lead thither from the draw- 
ing and music rooms, from rotunda and many pri- 
vate dining-rooms that border this garden. When 
at evening electric lights shed their glamour o'er 
the scene, touching the verdure with such livid 
brilliancy, when choice music adds its charm to the 


soft air, when fair forms picturesquely dad, fioat in 
and out from light to shadow, we realize that child- 
hood's dreams of fairy-land were all true and are 
now realized. Rumors reached our celibate ears of 
wonderful bridal suites in unvisited regions of this 
vast place that are dreams of Oriental splendor, 
but we gained or coveted no nearer acquaintance 
with their white and golden elegance. Besides 
this hotel, a thriving little town has sprung up on 
the peninsula in the last three years, with an os- 
trich farm, and pleasant little parks. Communica- 
tion with the main land is by ferry-boat. 

Many delightful trips can be enjoyed from 
San Diego, one to Lakeside, a mountainous district 
in the Cajone canon, another to Ensenada, Mex- 
ico, by steamer, or, the Mexican border can also 
be reached by a twenty-mile ride in an open 
motor-car along the Bay to National City (a stir- 
ring place which still shows many evidences of a 
mushroom growth), through its suburbs, where 
olives are extensively cultivated, and from which 
diverges the road to Sweetwater Dam, the city's 
reservoir, thence across a desolate country given 
over to cacti of various kinds and grease-wood 
bushes, whose oily roots are sought for fuel, to 
Tia Juana where one can visit the Government 
building and be officially stamped, or drive to 
the monument marking the boundary line be- 
tween California and Mexico. Smoking seems 


a necessary assistance to respiration with the 
average Mexican, and driving or lounging, his 
chief occupation. We saw no drivers however 
who irreverently tried to show Almighty God 
how to make a horse, for both manes and tails 
remained in the pristine beauty and usefulness 
for which their Creator designed them. The 
swarthy citizen returns our morning saluta- 
tion with a Frenchy '' ne comprends pas'' gesture 
and the one word " Mexicano," albeit with gleam- 
ino- teeth and the o-race of a courtier. But Nature 

o c 

has a language which is universal. As Harry 
French in the Himalaya mountains heard with 
delight a rooster crow in unmistakable English, so 
we can testify that the wind sighs through the 
harp-strings of a stunted Mexican pine, with a real 
New Hampshire twang. 

But one of the most charming spots to visit in 
the vicinity of San Diego, and one which the pub- 
lic has heard far too little about is La Jolla (pro- 
nounced La Holya, and signifying The Hole), on 
the Pacific coast north of the city. The route 
thither lies through Old Town, where we view 
asain the mouldering embers of a life above whose 
erave no resiirsrain will ever be written, we see the 
two lofty date palms planted by the padres over 
lOO years ago, their 370 olive trees of the same 
age being also in good bearing condition, and, 
turnino: westward reach the coast at Pacific 


Beach, four miles from La Jolla, whence a me- 
andering carriage road leads to this natural curi- 

The i^recipitous clay cliffs at this point are not 
only serpentine in outline, affording shelter to 
numerous bays and inlets, but they are cut by the 
action of the waves into caves, grottos and arches 
in which the surf holds high carnival, though at 
low tide the visitor can pass under fantastic nat- 
ural bridges into these weird rocky caverns. Far 
grander however is it to sit on some high ledge 
above the tumult when the breakers are at their 
height, and watch them assail our fortress with 
deafening roar. Sometimes two rollers from op- 
posite directions will strive to enter at once the 
cave beneath us, reverberating through the rocky 
chambers with an explosion like artillery, then 
after a moment's space, the spray and foam are 
thrown back into the outer air and high above our 
heads, transfixed there for a brief instant by a 
beautiful rainbow's arch, as if the sea-nymph 
whose home the rude waves had so roughly in- 
vaded, resentful of such intrusion, had tossed 
back a handful of her jewels after the retreating 

Indeed, color is everywhere dominant at La 
Jolla. Bright red and crimson mosses are washed 
up on the sand ; the shells, even the minutest, are 
of brilliant tints, the water while verv clear is in 


places a mosaic of blue and nile-green patches, 
while gold-fishes of lusty size turn up their gleam- 
ing scales to catch and reflect the sunshine. The 
sky is of the bluest and tenderest tone. The 
rarified air is so invigorating, so fresh and fragrant 
that we deliberately tasted of one opaline wave to 
make sure that we were looking upon an ocean of 
brine. One trophy from La Jolla which we 
especially prize is a shark's ^gg that had been 
washed up on the rocks, black as india-rubber and 
spirally convoluted like a shell. Spouting whales 
are frequently observed from one promontory of 
this beach. 

Returning from a day spent at this delightful 
spot, we reach San Diego just as the sun is 
sinking behind Point Loma, whose white light- 
house is clearly outlined against the crimson back- 
ground, a brilliancy which touches the myriad 
windows of the Coronado with flame, and is 
reflected in the placid waters of the bay, when, 
suspended above the horizon, in mirage, (a phe- 
nomenon common to this luminous locality), 
appears a three-masted ship with every sail set, 
being towed by an energetic tug into some shore- 
less harbor of the upper air. 




AFTER every enjoyable trip through southern 
Cahfornia, one naturally returns again and 
again to peerless Pasadena, which like a sweet- 
voiced siren woos and attracts us, potently and 
irresistibly. Certainly no enchantress owns more 
willing captives, for Pasadena seems lovelier than 
ever since the recent showers have clothed her 
hills and lawns with richest verdure, and fringed 
her orange boughs with tassels of lightest emerald 
greeuo The old walks and drives offer fresh de- 
lights, while new ones still invite us. We visit 
the garden of Mrs. Dr. Carr, a lady well known as 
a botanist, who has collected in her extensiv^e 
grounds a specimen of almost every tree, shrub, or 
flower known to temperate or tropical climes. On 
her lawn stands a large camphor tree, a cedar of 
Lebanon, (worthy to have been chosen by Solo- 
mon's builders), an Oregon cedar from the 
Columbia river valley, a red-wood, a variety of 
pines, palms, bananas with ripening bunches of 
fruit and curious blossoms suspended therefrom, 
while in another corner are persimmon trees 


whose branches are breaking under their weight 
of luscious fruitage. The view from these grounds 
also of the city, the valley, and cloud-wreathed 
mountain range is exceedingly beautiful. 

Pasadena has also, at present, an added attrac- 
tion. The Raymond is open and its first winter 
occupants have arrived. The eminence on which 
the hotel so grandly stands, and the sloping sides 
of this charming height have received the last 
touch of adornment which cultivated taste and 
ingenuity could devise. Masses of color form ef- 
fective contrasts everywhere, while beyond the 
garden beds, springing up from the lawn, are 
oleanders, double daturas and, azaleas willing to 
blossom out of doors as well as under glass roofs, 
interspersed with slender evergreens which cast 
dark slanting shadows over the alfalfa which 
forms much of the green sward in this latitude. 
And at evening, when darkness veils all this love- 
liness, the hillside presents a new phase of beauty 
which can be seen for miles around. Electric 
lights line every path and drive, winding about 
from base to summit like wandering fireflies, 
which with the lighted windows of the hotel re- 
mind us of that piece of pyrotechnic display fre- 
quently given on Boston Common, Fourth of July 
nights, called the illuminated Beehive, from which 
swarming bees dart out into the air and return on 
fiery wing. 


But the warm afternoon's glow flooded the hill 
when we ascended to the open portals of this 
famous house, pausing as we went to admire the 
magnificent roses, the heliotrope trees so lavish of 
their purple bloom as to veil therewith their leaves, 
stopping often to wonder over some strange plant 
or new flower, turning even when the broad 
veranda is reached to gaze with glistening eyes 
upon the rare beauty of the more distant land- 
scape, until half-reluctantly we seek the hitherto 
coveted pleasure of entering this charming place. 
And of course when once within the spacious 
portals the first thing we behold is the genial 
presence of Mr. Merrill, with ''Crawford's" so 
plainly written all over his rotund personality. 
How natural he looks ! And so strong is the 
power of association that instantly that part of us 
which is not anchored is whisked away to that 
grand old Notch among the White Hills, around 
which cluster so many pleasant memories. How 
desolate it must be to-day, swept by chilling blasts, 
with deep snows drifting about the closed doors 
and shutters and pleasant paths. Do those lovely 
cascades leap and splash and lash themselves into 
foam when no human eye beholds, no heart 
responds to their wild beauty 1 Do those moun- 
tain brooks ripple and purl and chatter in never- 
ending play, or has the Frost-king laid his icy fingers 
upDn their breasts and stilled their merry frolic ? 


But the strains of other music, the fragrance of 
calla lilies grouped in vases near, recall us to a 
sunnier land as we are led from the rotunda into 
the reception room, thence through the ladies' 
billiard parlor and reading room into the long draw- 
ing room where the usual orchestral concert, given 
each afternoon and evening, is in progress. The 
musicians are grouped about the grand piano, 
about which rests a large pyramid of chrysanthe- 
mums ; ladies sit around the room with their em- 
broideries and fancy work, gentlemen drop their 
newspapers to toy with their glasses and listen to 
the choice programme, while the warm June (we 
mean December) sunshine casts long slanting 
beams through this beautiful room. Across the 
corridor is the spacious ball-room, with its little 
stage and proscenium arch for the dramatically 
inclined. This room is frescoed with very bold 
design in natural tints of brake ferns, palms, and 
cannas, which lend a most effective adornment to 
the place. Natural flowers fill every table, nook 
and vase, in tasteful combinations. They are 
placed as an appetizing feature upon every table 
in the dining-room, where the silver and dainty 
napery form a most effective background for floral 
display, as indeed they prove for the strawberries 
and cream served in mid-winter at the Raymond 
with the matutinal meal. 

If winter were one long jDlaytime hour, how 


pleasant, how restful to loiter here, but other 
scenes invite us, new duties await us on the 
Northern coast. Therefore most regretfully we 
break one by one the meshes of the enchantress' 
net, and speed our way onward, beholding with our 
last yearning glance on one side the train, the new 
white mantle which the night has spread upon the 
loftiest peaks of the Sierra, while flashing past 
our window on the other hand is golden fruit 
growing ever larger and of brighter hue, with a 
goodly crop of windfalls bestrewing the ground 
beneath. How long would they thus remain, if 
the street gamins we have known should invade 
this land ? 

The route from Los Angeles to San Francisco 
runs through a sparsely settled, unpopulous but 
very picturesque region. The character of the 
scenery may be inferred from the fact that the 
railway pierces some thirty tunnels, so grudgingly 
do the mountain spurs relinquish the right of way. 
The passage through the longest of these tunnels, 
at San Fernando, requires nearly as much time as 
does our own Hoosac, though not quite two miles 
long, as for some reason, (perhaps from the shelv- 
ing character of the rock hereabouts), the utmost 
care and the slowest pace of our iron steed is en- 
forced. In direct contrast to these rocky walls 
which hem us in so closely, we next traverse the 
western corner of the great Mojave desert, a level 


sandy plain, not wholly devoid of vegetation, for 
here the yucca palm abounds, utilized we hear by 
a London firm for the manufacture of printing 
paper. Then as the darkness settles we enter a 
spur of the Sierra Nevada range and the scenery 
becomes grand and awe-inspiring. It is a singu- 
lar fact that time-tables are made up in this coun- 
try with especial design, it would seem, to pass by 
the most interesting feature of every journey after 
nightfall, when there is no good reason why the 
train should not start out earlier. Consequently 
the grandeur of Tehachapi summit was gained by 
our two panting locomotives just as every berth 
was made up and their owners were expected to 
occupy them. Perish the thought! We had 
heard of that triumph of railway engineering 
known as the Loop, and were determined at any 
cost to see it or — die ! So, impressing a railway 
official and his big lantern with an all-consuming 
desire to inspect this part of the country just once 
more himself, we, under his escort traversed six 
open and very breezy platforms, and five cars filled 
with the oddest shaped sleeping human bundles, 
to the rear end of the long train where we hung 
on to the brake-wheel (realizing as never before 
what a non-conductor of heat iron is) and thence 
for several miles, we were lost to all but the sub- 
limity of this wild mountain pass. 

We could look up, up until the stars seemed 


lower than the topmost trees, we looked down into 
chasms and ravines that made our narrow ledge 
upon the mountain's breast seem a most precarious 
footing. How deep and solemn the shadows be- 
neath us, how soft and silvery the young moon's 
light upon the crests, illuminating also our narrow 
course, while a lesser luminary, the kind lantern, 
answered more questions than it had ever thought 
of before. Doubtless it will avoid a Yankee in 
future as it would a cyclone. 

But the Loop .'' Well, it was longer than we ex- 
pected, being some three or four miles in circum- 
ference, therefore the curve was very gradual. 
The loop is necessary because the grade of two 
adjacent defiles is of such different elevation, that 
the only way to pass from one to the other is by 
this little detour, the train in returning crossing 
its own track by a tunnel underneath the road-bed 
just passed over. 

From this point onward we found one of the 
roughest bits of railway travel we ever experi- 
enced. We had to keep awake and hold on to re- 
main in our berths. Precipitation into the aisle 
seemed momentarily imminent. Perhaps we 
missed the vestibule cars to which we have of late 
been accustomed, which reduces the friction of 
travel to a minimum. But we were not left with- 
out other Raymond provision for our comfort, even 
though travelling alone. Long ago in that Boston 


office, these managers knew that we should need 
on this journey both supper and breakfast, conse- 
quently a coupon entitling us to each repast was 
found bound into our russia-leather, gilt-edged 

Soon after daybreak, as we leave Lathrop, (this 
town bearing the maiden name of the wife of ex- 
Gov. and Senator Leland Stanford), we cross the 
San Joaquin river, the first river we have seen in 
California that has not been bottom side up, the 
sandy river-bed alone visible. The land is level 
as a prairie and beautifully verdant. Woods are 
occasionally seen which give a home feature to the 
landscape, although the growth is chiefly live-oak 
and eucalyptus. Green hills arise on the horizon 
as we near our destination, double-peaked Mount 
Diablo claims our admiration, a portion of San 
Francisco bay is skirted, and soon we alight, not 
in the metropolis as we had a right to expect, but 
in Oakland, whence we embark in a commodious 
ferry-boat and finish our journey by water. Could 
anything be more incongruous } To approach San 
Francisco from Boston by ploughing the blue 
waters of the bay and landing at the city's water- 
front, exactly as if we came from Japan ! Is this 
not sailing under false pretences .'' In vain we are 
told that San Francisco is a peninsula, that the 
bay runs around it so completely that approach to 
it by land is impossible. We are still unrecon- 


ciled. Isn't Boston a peninsula ? And would not 
a visitor from Chicago feel outraged if he were 
obliged to reach the Hub by way of Hull ? 




SO magnificent a harbor as San Francisco Bay, 
one in which the combined navies of the 
world might easily find commodious anchorage, 
demanded as a natural sequence that a populous 
and cosmopolitan city should be built upon its 
shores. The fact that the site chosen for the city 
was a succession of hills and ridges proved no in- 
surmountable obstacle. We had heard that San 
Francisco was built upon one hundred hills. We 
have not counted them, but do not believe the 
number overestimated. And such hills ! The 
usual comparison ''steep as the roof of a house*' 
does only partial justice to their acute incline. 
Nothing could climb some of them it would seem 
but a cat or a squirrel, and yet up their successive 
and thickly settled terraces mount steadily and 
speedily the cable cars with which the city is com- 
pletely honeycombed in every direction, naught 
but the tops of their roofs being visible to the ob- 
server at the foot of the hill. And, reaching the 
summit, the cars pitch almost perpendicularly 


downward as a fly descends the walls of a room, 
or as a ship dips into the trough of a heavy sea, 
only to mount a higher and steeper hill beyond, 
continuing this see-sawing, 

" Now we go up, up, up-y ; 
And now we go down, down, down-y," 

style of locomotion for miles all over the city. 
Exaggeration here is an impossibility, for it is all 
so utterly incredible, even while we gaze. To 
quote from a Santa Barbara stage driver : '' What's 
the use of lying about this country, when the 
truth is more than any one can believe .'' " 

And on these precipitous heights and the ap- 
proaches leading thereto stand magnificent pal- 
aces, residences of the elite, the supplies for 
which, as well as their building materials must 
have been obtained, we naturally infer, by air-line 
from some other planet, since the streets on these 
upper terraces are grass-grown from curb to curb, 
except where it is cut by the cable track. These 
homes of wealth and refinement surround them- 
selves often with beautiful grounds and gardens 
which flourish marvellously in this etherealized air, 
while from these summits the views of the bay and 
ocean and of the great city which stretches like a 
vast amphitheatre below us, are surpassingly 

Many of these hills have been leveled to fill up 
as many valleys, swamps and ravines, (so master- 


fully does the mind of man tr.umph over all obsta- 
cles), and the business portion of the city is 
therefore broad and level, with plenty of room m 
its marts of trade, in its wide avenues and on its 
pavements for everybody, at the busiest hour. 
We have seen no blockades, no crowdmg, no 
pushing or jostling, and, although this statement 
will hardly be credited in suburban Boston, no cars 
in which human beings are packed like cattle m 
the shambles. One can ride without being trodden 
under foot, or being sat upon, without carrying the 
weio-htof one neighbor's bundles upon his knee, or 
the°print of another's elbow in his side for an hour 
or two after reaching his destination. And yet 
what a noisy, tumultuous, wide-awake city it is, for 
it never sleeps. It is always up and dressed, it 
we arise at the "wee sma' hours ayant the twal , 
and look from our casement into the street below, 
we see stores open, houses brilliantly lighted, 
cable-cars with clanging alarm-bell whizzmg by, 
merry strollers whistling under our window, strains 
of distant music in the air, and the same features 
of activity that belong to daylight. Observance of 
the Sabbath is quite an obsolete custom, perhaps 
because of the foreign mixture in the population. 

The richness of the city and the lavish display 
of its wealth cannot fail to impress the visitor 
Such wonderful shop-windows, the like of which 
Boston, even at her holiday season, never dreamed, 


for San Francisco seems the nautilus to secrete 
the pearls of the sea, to gather to herself the 
choicest treasures of every market and every land. 
Even thus have brave souls and noble characters 
from many nations contributed to her greatness, 
whose names she appropriately immortalizes in 
the nomenclature of her streets. One familiar 
with the early history of her pioneer days feels the 
blood quicken in his veins as he reads the names 
of Fremont and Taylor, of the army, Montgomery, 
Stockton and Dupont, of the navy, Sutter, How- 
ard, Leavenworth, Jones, Vallejo, Larkin and 
Geary, the first postmaster, and first agent au- 
thorized by the P. O. Dept. to bring mail to the 
Pacific coast, later chosen alcalde, an office similar 
to that of mayor. It was in a churchyard on 
Geary street that the sacred dust was laid, so dear 
to many Boston hearts, the form once vitalized 
and enshrined by the matchless spirit of Thomas 
Starr King. The city ordinance forbidding buri- 
als in the city's precincts was set aside in this in- 
stance that the sight of his tomb might recall as a 
daily inspiration his valued words and work. But 
as the old church has now withdrawn to a more 
quiet locality, the treasured ashes have been also 
tenderly removed to another resting place, which 
is still however within the city limits. 

And of Chinatown — that ulcer gnawing at the 
city's heart — this deponent speaketh not. It 


occupies a large tract of one of the best portions 
of the city. We have passed through its most 
civiHzed and cleanliest corner, where are the shops 
filled with strange and often valuable curios, much 
sought after by Eastern visitors. But of the 
opium dens, two and three stories below the level 
of the street, leading from alleys two feet wide 
only to be ^threaded under the protection of the 
police, of the theatres whose performances some- 
times last twelve hours, and of other abodes of 
filth and vermin, the profoundest ignorance would 
seem the greater bliss. If one has a retentive 
memory let him be careful what pictures he hangs 
among her cherished treasures, selecting only 
those whose permanent companionship will be a 
pleasure. As well eat tainted meat as contact 
from motives of curiosity alone, impure malarial 
mental atmospheres. 

The trip to the Cliff House and its attendant 
attractions is a deservedly popular one. The 
hotel occupies a rocky promontory on the coast 
outside the Golden Gate, upon which and the Fort 
that guards this open portal we look down as we 
wind our tortuous course about the bluffs. The 
heights above the Cliff House are occupied by the 
private grounds of Mr. Adolph Sutro, and are 
thrown freely open for the public to enjoy. A 
distinguishing feature of this extensive garden 
and park is the abundance of statuary with which 


it is peopled, both classic and comic. Opposite 
the hotel, a stone's throw from the precipitous 
face of the cliff are the small rocky islands upon 
which a squirming, writhing mass of seal-skin 
cloaks in the rough lay drying in the sun. This 
is the natural habitat of these semi-aquatic crea- 
tures and a law has been passed, forever preserv- 
ing them from injury. Least lovely of Nature's 
large family, and certainly most uncomfortable, 
their hideous wailing and barking are the bane of 
the place, for this caterwauling never ceases day 
or night, but greatly increases in stormy weather. 
The beach below the cliff is very gradual in its 
slope towards the water which makes a magnifi- 
cent surf and rapid breakers. 

Returning to the city, a visit can be paid en 
route to Golden Gate Park, an enclosure of over a 
thousand acres, which only a few years ago was an 
utterly barren sand bank, but has now been 
magically transformed into a paradise. Its trees 
are so thickly planted that at times one seems in 
an impenetrable forest, the winding drives and 
paths lead the eye such a short distance before 
reaching the vanishing point. The landscape 
gardening, the ornamental beds in quaint designs 
have also this advantage, that they are made for 
the whole year and not for a brief summer's day. 
The extensive conservatories (for which the valu- 
able collection of the late James Lick furnished 


the nucleus) are filled with the choicest botanical 
treasures of the entire world. Floating on one of 
its miniature lakes, beside our white pond-lily in 
lavish bloom, we noted the mammoth leaves of the 
Victoria Regia, or Amazon water-lily. Statues to 
Garfield and Halleck stand in the Park, also a 
handsome memorial to Francis Scott Key, the 
author of our ''Star Spangled Banner." 

The Presidio, a military reservation of 1500 
acres, occupies a lovely spot on the northern 
outskirts of San Francisco, just within the Golden 
Gate, and on the margin of the bay. The fortified 
island of Alcatraz is here a near neighbor, and 
some invalid members of its garrison were spend- 
ing, on the occasion of our visit, a comfortable 
convalescence in the Presidio hospital. The 
officers' homes were exceedingly pleasant, being 
surrounded by lawns and gardens, and a little park 
whose serpentine paths were outlined with cannon 
balls. The quarters assigned to the horses of the 
cavalry and artillery were most comfortable, and 
the private soldier and guardian of our peace 
seemed to have no duty on hand more arduous 
than a game of base-ball. 

The Spanish /^^i'n'i- who, in California's early 
days so industriously and zealously planted their 
Missions at every point whose occupancy seemed 
of importance in the success of their purpose to 
christianize the land and to awe the native tribes 


into submission, showed most excellent judgment 
in the selection of sites. The mission edifices 
were always situated where the land was most 
fertile and always removed some distance from 
the coast, although such selection must often have 
added many weary miles to the lonely journeys of 
the fathers in their visits to widely separated 

The Mission Dolores of San Francisco however 
(built in 1776), was not so far removed from the 
bay as it now seems, since so much land has been 
reclaimed from the sea by man's device and neces- 
sity, in fact, in a recent excavation for a cellar on 
Montgomery street, quite in the business heart of 
the city, the hulk of a sloop was found which had 
originally sunk at its moorings at the dock. A 
visit to the old Spanish quarter, with its relics of 
early settlement, offers vivid contrast to the lofty 
edifices of more modern sections. The sanctuary 
itself is the smallest we have seen of its kind and 
very quaint in its exterior. It is of considerable 
length though low in height, and its facade, of 
greyish plaster is very narrow with two short pil- 
lars on either side, and in niches in the pediment 
above the entrance are hung three small bells. 
Its roof is of the semi-cylindrical tiling, the floor 
of earth and the whole structure presents a very 
singular and foreign appearance. Adjoining it is 
an ancient burial o-round where some of the earlier 


settlers were entombed, but its present appearance 
is one of dilapidation and neglect. On the other 
side of the old Mission rises the Catholic church 
now used, a brick edifice with cheery interior, its 
walls hung with pictured object-lessons, necessary 
perhaps for the untutored mind before it has 
grown to apprehend spiritual truth, a needed step 
in the spiral stairway sloping God-ward. 

Back of this old settlement rise the mission 
peaks from whose heights a new idea of the city's 
vast extent can be obtained. Near at hand a few 
adobe walls still stand ; from thence the human 
tide swells on and stretches far and wide until its 
highest crest is reached on Nob Hill, where rise 
the palaces of the Floods, the Crockers, Stanfords 
and others to whom life has proved a financial suc- 
cess. One can almost see how the city grew and 
crystallized into its present form, which is still but 
a prophecy of its future greatness. 

As an easy stepping stone from the Spanish 
regime to the days of the Argonauts, the forty- 
niners, one naturally turns aside to visit the 
beautiful building erected by the Society of 
Pioneers, and its relic-hall, where are collected not 
alone Indian and natural curiosities peculiar to 
California, but trophies from the entire world. 
Occupying a prominent place is the portrait of 
John W. Marshall, who on Jan. 19, 1848, first dis- 
covered gold in California, at Sutter's Mill, 


Colonna, near Sacramento, and, preserved in a 
glass case is a fac simile of the valuable nugget 
which he found. On the wall hangs also a still 
more interesting relic — the Bear Flag — which 
marks the first attempt to Americanize California, 
or to wrest it from Mexican control and make of 
it an independent Republic. The flag was first 
raised June 14, 1846, was kept flying with great 
effort for twenty-seven days, and lowered July 
nth, to be gladly replaced by the stars and stripes 
as then authorized by the U. S. government, be- 
tween whom and Mexico war had been declared. 
The flag is of white unbleached cotton a yard long, 
with a four-inch border of red flannel. In the 
upper left-hand corner is a lone star, in the centre 
a grizzly bear, rampant, these designs being ex- 
ecuted without artistic excellence, in Venetian red 
and Spanish brown from some wheelwright's shop, 
while underneath in ink are the words CALI- 
FORNIA REPUBLIC. The name California 
was originally a fancy title given by the obscure 
Spanish author of a novelette, to the imaginary 
territory lying northward of Mexico, as vaguely 
reported by Cortes on his return to the court of 




SIX miles from San Francisco, as the sea-gull 
flies, across the pleasant waters of the bay, 
stands the beautiful city of Oakland, with Alameda 
and Berkeley on either side. Oakland has been 
called the city of residences (or in slang parlance, 
Frisco's bedroom), and it wears the title appropri- 
ately. It has a diurnal population of about 
65,000, and while possessing a thriving little 
business centre of its own, its wide level streets 
are chiefly occupied by beautiful villas and homes. 
The gardens which surround them remind us at 
this winter season of Pasadena taking a nap, and 
an opossum kind of nap too, a partial rest with 
one eye open, for Nature never sleeps in this 
wondrous land. Everywhere rose bushes are 
bristhng with buds that await only a few more 
days of sunshine to expand, magnolias promise 
even earlier unfoldment, and the callasare already 
in their prime ; indeed Oakland seems pre- 
eminently their chosen home, for every yard dis- 
plays its abundant share of these snowy, man> 


moth flowers. And we note here such variety of 
trees from the native live-oak, (whose abundance 
christened the city), the locust and cottonwood, to 
the ornate, feathery -leaved acacia, in its many sub- 
divisions, the mustard, fig, cypress, and number- 
less varieties of palms. We counted fifteen new 
specimens of trees and shrubs which we had 
never seen before, in one short walk, and were 
obliged to remain in ignorance as to their proper 
classification, for the resident, to the manor born, 
never knows, and doesn't even know that he does 
not know. Repeatedly we have asked the rightful 
owner and proprietor of a garden the name of a 
prominent flowering shrub, and then watched his 
changes of expression from surprise at the query 
to amazement and chagrin at the discovery that he 
cannot give you the desired information, a frank 
confession of his ignorance, and resolve that he 
will soon ascertain, but — he never will. The 
Californian type of mind is not of an inquiring 
nature. In its font of ideas there are few interro- 
gation points. It is so much easier to take things 
for granted. We recently discovered a new and 
beautiful tree with dark, rich, glossy foliage, 
springing up from the sidewalk, so we took our 
stand beneath it, Casabianca-like, with a Spartan 
resolve that, come one, come all, this tree should 
flee from its firm base as soon as we, until we 
discovered its name, and there we stood, cour- 



teoiisly inquiring of every passer-by, the thick, the 
thin, the short, the tall, of childhood and old age, 
all of whom, with true Western cordiality, regretted 
to the depths of their kind hearts that they were 
unable to serve us in some way, but alas, they 
couldn't unless they could, could they ? One lady 
confessed to having lived opposite the tree for a 
dozen years, she knew a tree stood there, but had 
"never thought," what kind of a tree it was, so, as 
we couldnt spend the night in the street, we at 
last moved on, as ignorant as before. 

The social atmosphere of Oakland is genial, 
quiet, restful and receptive to the advanced 
thought of the day. For this and many other 
reasons the traveller is induced to cast anchor in 
this calm haven and taste the rare pleasure of a 
long sojourn in this lovely place, indeed a life-sen- 
tence could be delightfully served out, here. The 
climate, while not so mild in winter as southern 
resorts, knows no sultry weather in mid-summer. 
Its sky is often blue and serene when a small 
hurricane is blowing through the streets of the 
larger city across the bay. There is a beautiful 
lake in the eastern part of Oakland surrounded by 
handsome villas, and in every direction there are 
the most enticing walks and drives, one of espe- 
cial charm leading out to Piedmont, situated as its 
name implies, on the foot-hills of the Contra Costa 
range. A more magnificent view than the one ob- 


tained from this height can hardly be imagined. 
Oakland lies at our feet like a crescent moon ; just 
beyond, Alameda stretches her long arm into the 
blue bay ; on the further shore of this broad ex- 
panse of waters, San Francisco sits on her many 
hills, while others still higher -rise behind her. 
From our vantage ground we can look straight 
through the Golden Gate, in whose royal portals 
the white masts of coming and departing vessels 
are tipped with flame in the light of the setting 
sun, which makes a long lane of glory between 
the green islands of this inland sea. What peace 
rests upon it ! What diverse craft here find an- 
chorage ! At present there are Her Britannic 
Majesty's flag-ship Swiftshire, our own Charles- 
ton, in virgin white from stem to stern, a French 
man-of-war, and the Chinese mail steamer, to- 
gether with sloops, whalers, ferry-boats and tugs 
innumerable, plying busily in every direction. 

And as we gaze, thought reverts to two depart- 
ures which these calm waters have recently wit- 
nessed. In the early hours of a smoky morning 
as we sat reading in the cabin of a ferry, a sudden 
shriek from our whistle, followed by a succession 
of piercing toots brought us to our feet to see what 
disaster was pending, when behold, close at hand 
lay the Japan steamer, Oceanic, with a tug at her 
side receiving on board a small piece of woman- 
hood which then sped away for the Oakland mole, 


where a special train awaited the arrival of Nelly 
Bly. A narrow strip of marsh land was all 
which the fair traveler beheld of this glorious 
neighborhood, in her race against time and the 
advertising interests of her enterprising employ- 
ers, but then — she will return. 

The other young woman, who with a different 
kind of bravery stepped on board the Australia at 
high noon, bound for the Sandwich Islands, goes 
to return no more. The brick walls of San Fran- 
cisco as they vanished from her gaze, comprised 
the last large city which Sister Rose Gertrude 
(Miss Fowler) will probably ever see, as her self- 
imposed exile among the lepers is for life. 

A cloud of smoke which is seldom lifted hangs 
above San Francisco, but tree-embowered, garden- 
fringed, flower-crowned Oakland invites the admir- 
ing eye to linger long and tenderly upon all her 
verdant beauty, her broad level streets and beauti- 
ful homes. We heartily voice the apostrophe of 
that strange genius, poet, and large-hearted man, 
Joaquin Miller, who from his almond-grove on a • 
contiguous height looks down upon this fair city 
and craves no other retreat : 

"Thou Rose-land ! Oak-land, thou mine own ! 

Thou Sun-land ! Leaf-land ! Land of seas 
Wide crescented in walls of stone ! 

Thy lion's mane is to the breeze ! 
Thy tawny, sun-lit lion steeps 
Leap forward as the lion leaps ! 


* * * 

Be this my home till some fair star, 

Stoops earthward and shall beckon me ! 
For surely Godland lies not far 

From these Greek heights and this great sea. 
My friend, my lover, trend this way; 
Not far along lies Arcady." 




WE have heard that the difference between 
the wet and the dry season in Cahfornia 
is that in summer it never rains, but sometimes 
does, while in winter it is expected to rain, but 
usually does not. In Southern California we 
found it the prevalent custom of the elements 
to rain at night and clear off brightly each morn- 
ing, but this particular rainy season has dis- 
counted the memory of the oldest inhabitant, 
and broken California's record for 30 years. We 
are glad to have seen it, and to know what '' a hard 
winter" is like, in this locality. We have been 
amused when reference has been made here to the 
tough weather for it is nothing more than we are 
accustomed to, the year round, in New England. 
There, we never enjoy week after week, month 
succeeding month of perpetual unclouded sun- 
shine, as it is the rule to expect in this golden 
land. Consequently, when a series of showers 
follow one another here, or two or three rainy 
days occur in one week, the wet weather is be- 
yond precedent. But the rain is never frozen, 


there are no snow drifts to wade through with 
chilled toes and frost-bitten ears, no chilling 
blasts, no leafless trees, or seared lawns. Flow- 
ers bloom on, and green ivy runs rampant over 
fences, door-posts, and arches. 

In higher altitudes of this broad state, where the 
rain has been frozen, in the mountain jDasses and 
gorges of the Sierra, where snow and ice have held 
potent sway, the winter that is now passing will 
long be remembered. For seventeen days we had 
no communication with the Eastern states. Water 
in one form made a barrier, which all the force of 
water in its most potent form could not overthrow. 
It was a contest between ice and steam with 
myriad snow-flake battalions as daily re-enforce- 
ment for the enemy. The victory was finally won 
by the strong sinewy muscle of brawny arms with 
a resolute will to direct them. 

And now the winter, or the rainy season is con- 
sidered past. The voice of the spring is already 
heard, the hills that surround San Francisco and 
Oakland are assuming the most delicate tints of 
emerald green. Daily, as we watch them, we see 
this living tide creep higher and higher up the 
slopes, and dip down into the numberless dimples 
and dales of the verdant range, reflecting the light 
at such different angles, holding also such wealth 
of shade that the effect is that of a huge chame- 
leon. Wild flowers begin to appear abundantly. 


Large bunches of fragrant violets are seen on the 
street, and the beautiful acacia trees, of which 
there are countless varieties, are a mass of bril- 
liant bloom. All this is very unlike Februarys 
which we have known, and prevents our fullest 
commiseration with the natives over the hardest 
winter they have ever experienced. Fields of 
wild mustard have donned their yellow caps, 
showing also varieties with white and with laven- 
der blossoms. The prevalence of yellow however, 
in all wild flowers is very noticeable. Symbol of 
light — God's first-born — it is also the color- 
emblem of Wisdom. Blue, which symbolizes 
Truth, is rarest in the floral kingdom, as indeed 
is its correspondence in a world so rife with error 
that it has not yet solved Pilate's old query : 
^' What is truth." 

The winter has afforded us in this neighborhood 
two new years' celebrations, one arranged and de- 
creed by old Father Thomas and the other al- 
manac makers, which was observed in regular 
Fourth of July fashion, with fish-horns and bells 
and parties of young people going from house to 
house and singing the night away under friendly 
windows ; the other (decided by the new moon) 
occurred a fortnight later, in Chinatown, with a 
great popping of fire-crackers and explosive bombs, 
with decorations and an unearthly din, called by 
courtesy music, with much feasting and social 


interchange, the Chinese women for this one day 
in all the year throwing off the yoke of abject 
slavery — think of that my free-born (unmarried) 
sisters — and looking exactly as if they had just 
stepped from off a fan. Mongolian gents were 
seen with light pea green silk trousers belted 
in at the ankle, a pink tunic and blue sleeveless 
jacket outside of all. It is safe to assert that the 
passage of Time was appropriately observed. 

Since that festive date, our great and glorious 
United States government has shown its valor 
and prowess by deliberately strangling the life out 
of one half-witted little Chinaman, too foolish to 
understand the nature of his crime, or the justice Q) 
of his sentence, his only remark on hearing the 
verdict being " Me go back Chinee, all samee." 
Following the execution, scores of little news- 
boys at an age which should exemplify the inno- 
cence of childhood, were employed to shout 
.through the streets every detail of the revolting 
spectacle, which brutal and degrading recital sows 
in susceptible hearts the seeds of a harvest of 
crime which this country will inevitably some day 
reap. No murder, judicial or otherwise, ever en- 
courages righteousness of thought or action. 

The first excursion party to register at the 
Palace Hotel from Pasadena, recently arrived and 
report a charming winter at The Raymond, where 
everything is done for the amusement and enter- 


tainment of its patrons. Especially was this true 
of the merry Christmas tide. On Christmas eve 
a tree was prepared on the little stage of the large 
auditorium. A real live Santa Claus came down 
from his polar retreat, and drove his sleigh and 
span of real Shetland ponies into and around the 
brilliantly lighted ball-room, gay with its decora- 
tions and the festive toilettes of the lords and 
ladies there assembled. Alighting at the foot of 
the tree, he summoned two silver-winged fairies to 
his side, and through their fleet aid, distributed a 
beautiful gift to every guest, after which dancing 
and feasting were enjoyed to a late hour. Every 
evening during that week and the next had its 
well-arranged programme of games, tableaux, con- 
certs and hops. 

These newly-arrived friends gave fragrant proof 
that the orange and lemon groves of Pasadena are 
now in blossom. The buds of the lemon are 
quite mauve in tint, although the open flower is as 
snowy white as its more popular sister. 

Everywhere in California at all seasons, the 
Eastern visitor notes with surprise the abundance 
of time which the resident has on his hands. How 
plainly we recall the nervous tension, pressure, 
and strain of that Boston atmosphere, the con- 
stant endeavor to crowd a few more duties into an 
already over-full day, in this easy-going land where 
nothing and nobody ever hurries, where even the 


business world does not bestir itself to break its 
fast until an hour which the New England house- 
wife would pronounce " shiftless," when even the 
cobbler who is needed to adjust one's boot-heel 
cannot be found on duty till midway of the fore- 
noon. We doubt if a doo- ever causfht a cat in this 
latitude ; we certainly have never seen one try. 
Perhaps they are too courteous, a quality so 
marked in their exceedingly polite owners. 

The same air of elegant leisure characterizes the 
management here of the postal department. King 
Wanamaker's business requires no haste in this 
country. A letter recently mailed in San Fran- 
cisco to a friend three or four streets away, was 
delivered after an interval of two days and nights. 
Mail seems to be regarded with supreme indiffer- 
ence by the resident, who would accept the receipt 
of an important letter to-morrow, as complacently 
as to-day. In two southern cities in this State 
where papers and pamphlets have accumulated 
beyond the convenience of the carriers, they (the 
papers, not the carriers) have been deliberately 
burned in open bonfire, or dumped into th2 bay, 
a disregard for private preference, or the import- 
ance of current literature, which the transient 
tourist takes unkindly. 




IT is less in the large cities, where specimens of 
every nation, clime and tongue, with all con- 
ceivable amalgamations compose their cosmo- 
politan element, than in the outlying districts, 
the fertile valleys, or old mining sections, that 
typal California can best be studied. The next 
county north of San Francisco, comprising the 
Russian river and other valleys, is a vast garden 
in its productiveness, while it abounds in grand 
and picturesque scenery. It is a great fruit-bear- 
ing region, and its chief industries are the canning 
of fruits and the manufacture of wines. 

To visit this valley we take a little steamer at 
her dock in San Francisco and sail up the bay 
along the city's water front, past cannon-bristling 
Alcatraz, in sight of the Presidio, crossing the road- 
way to the Gate through which* the bland wind 
blows fiercely and the rough waves rock our boat 
like a cradle, still on by the little bay village of 
Saucelito, a veritable Downer's Landing for pic- 
nickers and yachtsmen, though unlike the latter 


resort it is built up and down the steep sides of a 
green hill ; on the other hand passing the military 
station on Angel island, most perfect in all its ap. 
pointments even to the little white-spired church 
half discernible above the tree-tops, until we reach 
Tiburon where we take the train to continue our 
delightful journey by land. 

The first stopping-place of note is San Rafael, 
the Nahant for Frisco's wealthy merchants. It is 
a pretty place, with its fine residences almost hid- 
den by tall trees, and its large and handsome 
Hotel Rafael. From this point the ascent of 
Mount Tamalpais can be made, an imposing sum- 
mit which rears its head 2000 feet above the bay 
and commands a wide-extended view of land and 
ocean, of cities, towns and sister mountain heights. 
From this point, after the eclipse of four tunnels 
of considerable length, we emerge into the verdant 
Russian river valley of Sonoma county, and skirt 
its graperies, now trimmed back to the stump 
though soon to become fields of luxuriant foliage, 
blossom and fruit, we pass almond orchards in 
fullest pink and white bloom, wild oak groves 
whose branches are hung with long festoons of 
Southern moss, hill-sides covered with a thick 
growth of the evergreen mazanita and madrona 
trees, while back of these rise the higher coast 
range and the Napa mountains. 

At Petaluma, so many homes are surrounded 


with acacia trees in flower, each illumined by the 
warm western sun, that the town seems a mass of 
woolen yellow snowballs as we speed by. Large 
huge mills are here, and a very rich territory sur- 
rounds the place whose products have a double 
egress to the world's commerce, since a narrow 
inlet from San Pablo bay affords sloop navigation 
to this point. 

We do not pass through Sonoma, where a U. S. 
garrison was maintained until 185 1, and at which 
place the Bear Flag was raised. On the occasion 
of a recent Fourth of July celebration, the original 
flag was taken from its glass-case in the Pioneers' 
hall in San Francisco, was carried to Sonoma, 
where attached to a piece of the old pole it was 
once more flung to the breeze. One imagines that 
the old grizzly, so crudely represented on the ban- 
ner must wonder what has become of all his com- 
panions, once so common in this region, during 
his long Rip Van Winkle nap. The stars and 
stripes were first hoisted by Gen. Fremont at 
Monterey, July 7th 1846, from which date the 
commercial history of the state begins. 

Santa Rosa, which holds the county seat, is the 
prettiest town in this vicinity. It claims a popu- 
lation of 10,000, and has an interesting legend 
connected with its christening. Soon after the 
founding of the Mission of San Rafael in 1847, 
Friar Amorosa started forth in search of natives 



whom he could by force of arms convert to the 
true faith. He met with only one stray Indian 
maiden, who was wandering alone near the site of 
the present town. This girl was seized by the 
zealous Father, dragged by that exponent of mus- 
cular Christianity to an adjacent creek and forci- 
bly baptized as Santa Rosa. Her tribe aroused 
by the outcry, and not duly appreciating this en- 
ergetic effort for her sanctification, obliged the de- 
vout proselyter to flee to the shelter of the Sonoma 
mission, and history is silent concerning the future 
career of the dusky heathen maid, save that her 
pretty name was given to the settlement which 
soon arose in this locality. 

Healdsburg, the next place of importance, a 
sleepy little town, is situated at the fork of Rus- 
sian river and Dry Creek, a tributary whose turbu- 
lent flow at this season belies its name. There is 
here a pretty wooded eminence, named Fitch 
mountain for one of the early settlers, and more 
imposing heights beyond skirt the horizon. The 
extinct volcano of Mt. St. Helena, 4,850 feet high, 
though situated in Napa county is a prominent 
landmark, and bears evidence by the ermined 
mantle which now drapes its shoulders that its 
once fiery heart is cold and still, yet lava deposits 
in various sections of the valley give silent witness 
of former activity. On its summit also can be 
found sea-shells and other tokens of a submarine 


experience which it has known, whose details no 
pen will ever describe. 

Another height is known as Geyser Peak, at 
whose base are found the only geysers in Cali- 
fornia. To visit these we continue our journey 
northward to Cloverdale, whence a long stage- 
drive over a mountain road too narrow for the 
passage of but one vehicle, except in rare instances, 
(at which points we naturally share the solicitude 
of the old lady who wanted to. turn out and wait 
until a team came by), conveys us to our destina- 
tion. Whether this terminus can be called Para- 
dise or Purgatory, we have not determined. 
Grandeur and beauty of scenery above and round 
about us ; below a wild mountain gorge whose 
trail can be followed a mile or more, or as far as 
the soles of one's boots can endure the unw^onted 
temperature of mother earth, whose usually placid 
breast throbs, and trembles, mutters, moans and 
puffs in tumultuous unrest. We have never seen 
her in this mood before. Her gnomes are in re- 
bellion, or are holding high carnival with elfish 
imps from some nether world. But their frolic is 
less boisterous than it was some years ago, their 
natural ebullition having been quelled by the 
visiting vandals who have dropped stones in these 
natural craters and tunnels, and thus diverted the 
upheaval into other channels. 

In some of these geysers, large stones and 


Sticks are blown aside like bits of paper. Some 
eject only vapor, others have a regular pulsating 
action like machinery, notably one known as the 
devil's grist-mill. There is also the witches' caul- 
dron, and the devil's ink-stand, filled with the 
blackest liquid, often borne away in vials by tour- 
ists to inscribe their names therewith upon the 
hotel register. There are springs and basins of 
every color, temperature, taste, smell and chem- 
ical property. There are gentle moans and loud 
explosions, quiet and forceful eruptions, and every 
manner of expression of Nature's forceful energy. 

There is also in Sonoma county a petrified for- 
est, the trees lying in two tiers over a tract a mile 
in extent, the largest single tree measuring 6^ feet 
in length by 1 1 feet in diameter. When found, 
they were covered with volcanic ashes and atoms 
of silica. 

Large stories are told in this region of the days 
when agricultural interests were sacrificed to those 
of mining, and the prosy occupation of farming 
found few adherents, when gold dust became the 
most plentiful commodity and three dollars worth 
of it was often paid for a watermelon, seven dollars 
for an onion (!) and a similar price for a quart of 
potatoes. To this day vegetables are far scarcer 
than fruit. 




WHY San Jose should be known pre-eminently 
as the Garden City in this land of gardens, 
or why it should wear that distinctive title was not 
quite clear to our minds until we remembered it 
received this christening before Pasadena was 
born, and also until we saw this productive Santa 
Clara valley where, it is estimated, there are more 
fruit orchards than in any other county of equal 
area in the republic. It is also a great centre for 
strawberries, and for vegetables of all kinds ; 
indeed, the land for miles around is one vast 

The road leading thither from San Francisco 
runs through a fertile territory now in its fairest 
dress, the cultivated fields climbing far up the 
hillsides, the young grain making delicate shades 
of contrast in the chromatic scale of green, while 
near at hand our course passes through extensive 
olive and almond groves. Cherry orchards also 
abound, their leaves so lusty in size and thickness, 
the trees so altered in manner of growth by early 


and systematic pruning, from the scraggy shapes 
we remember that they almost defy recognition. 

The city of San Jose (pronounced San Hosay) 
has numerous attractions, and is regarded as the 
Yankee town of the West, so many Eastern peo^ 
pie having settled here. It was founded Nov. 29, 
1777, by 15 people, and was once for a short time, 
the capital of the state. It is now an educational 
centre, the State Normal School occupying here 
27 acres of lawn and flowers, with roses in fullest 
bloom climbing its brick walls. Located here also 
are the Santa Clara (Catholic) College, the Con- 
vent of Notre Dame, and the University of the 
Pacific. Business also thrives and it is proposed 
eventually to cut a canal through to this point, to 
advance the commercial interests of this fruitful 
region by giving increased outlet for its valuable 
products. We heard the usual story of one potato 
that was dug in this vicinity, which made further 
excavation unnecessary for the cellar of the house 
erected on its site, and as California houses very 
rarely possess a cellar of any description, we gave 
ready credence to the flattering tale. As a rule, 
both potatoes and apples are here inferior to those 
grown on Eastern farms. 

The visitor to San Jose receives the welcome of 
an expected guest at the Hotel Vendome which 
though smaller than other noted hostelries of this 
state, is perhaps thereby the more cheery and 


home-like. One feels on entering as if he had 
always lived there and was in no haste to move on. 
This home-like atmosphere, impossible to describe, 
but so potently sensed, is still further enhanced by 
a natural environment which is charming and rest- 
ful. The hotel, which is a handsome building of 
modified Gothic architecture, its facade divided by 
projections into five sections, edged by broad 
verandas, sits in a pretty park where the sun 
plays hide and seek with the shadows which the 
trees cast on the velvet lawn, while the air is soft 
and balmy as June. The tree trunks are covered 
to the upper branches with a thick green mass of 
clinging ivy, and at their base, seats are placed to 
enhance the comfort of the loiterer. 

There are delightful drives in this vicinity, one 
to the Willows, a resort named for the trees which 
here abound in a beauty and luxuriance of foliage, 
a richness of emerald tint, an airy grace in the car- 
riage of their flowing draperies which we have 
never seen them wear before. There is also the 
suburb of Santa Clara with its ancient mission, 
reached by a shady drive through the Alameda, 
which is Spanish for a road bordered by tall trees. 

But the chief attraction of San Jose is of course 
Mount Hamilton with the Lick Observatory upon 
its summit, and a visit thither is an experience 
unique and delightful beyond description, a pleas- 
ure never thereafter to be forgotten. 



Money is an excellent commodity, if its posses- 
sor owns with it a generous heart and an unselfish 
desire to benefit humanity. In various sections ^ 
of this neighborhood we have met evidences of 
James Lick's benevolence, but his greatest gift, 
the crowning act of his life was the bequest of 
$700,000 for this valuable contribution to modern 
science. In his early life, while accumulating in 
So. America the nucleus of his large fortune, he 
became associated with a Spanish priest who in 
their out-door life, deeply interested the prospec- 
tive millionaire in the study of astronomy, and 
then and there was formed in the mind of this 
reticent young man, the resolve to provide hitherto 
unparalleled advantages for the advancement of 
this noble science. It may be that his most ec- 
centric economy had this noble end in view, as 
indeed that early disappointment, in his only 
affaire du cceiir with the miller's daughter, was 
conducive to an unencumbered estate, with whose 
disposal no legal claimant could interfere. 

Mount Hamilton is situated between two ridges 
of the Coast range, in a locality and at an altitude 
most favorable for observation and study of the 
heavens. To mount to its summit and descend in 
one day and night, usually conveys to the tourist 
an idea of excessive fatigue, and people are often 
slaves to their expectations. They saturate their 
minds with thoughts of weariness, place anxious 


sentinels on the outposts of their consciousness to 
watch for its first approach, and these fears are 
consequently realized. Those travellers, on the 
contrary, who are so in harmony with Nature that 
her grand and beautiful lessons serve as a perpet- 
ual tonic, filling the mind so full of gladness that 
it cannot hold thoughts of physical suffering, hap- 
pily escape this painful bondage. The ascent of 
Mt. Hamilton is one prolonged feast of enjoyment, 
and a constant surprise. We had heard that the 
road which winds its tortuous course along these 
mountain ridges had been built at the expense of 
^80,000 and seven years of time, that it was mac- 
adamized all the way, and was everywhere wide 
enough for the passage of two teams, but we were 
not prepared to rise to an altitude of 4,448 feet 
without ascending even one hill, without climbing 
even one steep grade where the strained muscles 
and panting struggles of our four horses should 
make painful draughts upon our sympathies. Ev- 
erything unpleasant is eliminated from this most 
perfect mountain drive. 

Starting at noon from San Jose and reaching its 
suburbs, we gradually wind about the lowest foot- 
hills and along their slopes, rising at times about 
six feet in one hundred until this beautiful Santa 
Clara valley is unrolled beneath us like a rare 
mosaic of brilliant color and graceful outline. The 
fields are thickly dotted with flowers, the California 


poppy predominating ; Flower of Gold, the Mexi- 
cans called it, known to our Eastern gardens as 
Escholtzia, from a General bearing that name, 
who landed at Monterey on the first ship which 
entered that bay. But in our small cultivated 
clumps we cannot catch the satiny sheen which 
forms a chief charm in the masses of these flowers 
which the wind sweeps over. As we ascended, 
the type of wild flowers changed, each family true 
to its own habitat, rarely found above or below 
its own chosen limits, and mostly new acquaint- 
ances in the floral kingdom, though we recognized 
varieties of delphinium, and of cyclamen. 

While still enjoying this beautiful valley view, a 
sudden turn in our winding course hides it from 
sisfht and we see it no more. Neither is that 
white dome on the far distant summit which is 
our goal, any longer visible. A city set on a hill 
can be hid by more adjacent peaks, and for a long 
hour we are hemmed in by gorges and wooded 
heights that afford a constant variety of wild and 
romantic scenery until Smith's Creek is reached, 
where a little mountain inn provides refreshment 
for the hungry traveller. From this point the 
Observatory, which seems to withdraw itself far- 
ther and farther away as we pursue, is in an almost 
perpendicular position above us, and still seven 
miles away, but easily and gracefully that marvel- 
lous road curves round and round across the face 


of the mountain like a piece of serpentine braid, 
until nearer the summit it encircles the height 
three times, and even on the final grade reaches 
only the incline of thirteen feet to a hundred. 

We drove up to the door of this imposing tem- 
ple of science just before seven, in time to see a 
glorious sunset, and to catch its reflection from 
San Francisco Bay, miles to the north of us. 
Still farther northward on a clear winter's morn- 
ing, Mt. Shasta is visible, as well as other king- 
doms of this world and the glory of them. The 
visitor to the Observatory can always be sure of a 
hospitable welcome and painstaking effort for his 
entertainment, even though the kind hosts must 
find it wearisome to answer the same queries and 
repeat so often the same explanations and informa- 

Saturday evening is set apart each week as the 
only opportunity for the public to gaze through 
the great 36-inch telescope, hitherto the largest in 
the world, though we hear its bigger brother is 
even now in the skillful hands of the Messrs. 
Clark. To have reception night happen on the 
first quarter of the moon, (the most favorable 
time for observation) and under a perfectly clear 
sky was our rare good fortune. Passing from the 
vestibule, we entered the large dome with a feel- 
ing of awe, as if we stood in the presence of roy- 
alty, for towering far above us was the monster 


steel tube with its giant eye poised aloft, scanning- 
searchingly the mysteries of unfathomed space. 
We could not help also a feeling of neighborly 
kinship for the glass which by some occult and 
mysterious method reached such perfection in 
distant Cambridge, away down there at the foot 
of Brookline street, where the crooked Charles, in 
uncertain mood flows both ways, lapsing lazily 
back and forth in its allegiance to the sea. We 
even congratulated this most-worshipful-grand- 
master lens on having exchanged the pungent 
marsh odor of that locality for the pure ether of 
this heaven-kissed height. 

Wonderful was it to see the mammoth dome re- 
volve with such ease under the direction of the 
presiding genii of the place, who with skillful 
touch also directed the telescope toward our satel- 
lite which held that evening high court in heaven. 
And how did it look } Well, very like its photo- 
graph, with much the unnatural whiteness and 
flowery appearance of plaster-of-paris, honey- 
combed as it is with volcanic craters. W^e, of 
course, improved this auspicious occasion to look 
intently for the man in the moon, but it must 
have been his night out, for we failed to discover 

Leaving this lunar audience chamber we de- 
scended to the crypt below, where is the ma- 
chinery which under hydraulic pressure furnishes 



the power to move the dome. It was a gruesome 
place, its darkness only partially penetrated by our 
one lantern, and here, in the massive brick ma- 
sonry which supports the telescope and dome, is 
the tomb of James Lick. Strange mausoleum ; 
a resting-place austere, peculiar and unique as was 
his life, but what more fitting monument than this 
princely instrument which rises from his breast, 
the culmination of a life-long purpose, like the 
aloe's mighty stem which blossoms late, but over- 
tops all lowlier growths. Shall not this king of 
telescopes serve also as cenotaph for another noble 
man and devotee of science, even that revered son 
of Cambridge — Alvan Clark } 

We next visited the smaller dome where the 
12-inch telescope was focused upon the planet 
Saturn, and the kind and patient professor gave a 
running commentary on all the marvels which we 
saw. Most beautiful of all the heavenly bodies, 
especially serene fair Saturn seemed to-night with 
six of her attendant moons visible, and her golden 
rings casting deep shadows upon the planet, from 
the light of that same sun which also outlined the 
mountain peaks upon the moon's surface, and 
which we had seen disappear so recently from our 
horizon, although we caught its last luminous 
beams from the roof of this observatory, the 
highest point we have ever reached. The build- 
ing is constructed with double walls of brick to 


secure evenness of temperature, and the bricks 
were made from a clay bed found fortunately near 
the summit. 

Other wonderful instruments here abound. 
There are comet-seekers, earthquake-recorders, 
the transit instrument, which furnishes that uncer- 
tain quantity — time, for the whole Pacific coast, 
as far east as Ogden ; there is the delicate Merid- 
ian Circle instrument for determining the latitude 
and longitude of stars, and many more. We 
listened with breathless interest to our young 
chaperon's delineation of these marvels, we nod- 
ded (we hope) in all the right places, and dragons 
shall never draw from us the confession whether 
or not our intelligent comprehension of their 
intricate mechanism is perfect and complete. 
Photography is also a feature here, and the long 
corridors are lined with most interesting solar and 
planetary views. 

When at last our visit to this enchanting place 
was ended and we stood on the broad door-stone 
ready for departure, can we ever forget the scene 
outspread before us } Above, the wide expanse 
of star-lit heavens, though from our lofty perch it 
seemed less above us than a part of us. At the 
horizon shy Mercury, so rarely seen by city resi- 
dents, shone with ruddy glow accompanied by the 
paler lustre of our well-known Venus. Opposite, 
majestic Orion kept up his eternal chase after 



Taurus, the Pleiades hung nearer the zenith, while 
the moon's gentle radiance silvered the whole 
atmosphere and the great world of mountain, 
valley, and forest, lying calm and silent at our 
feet ; it outlined the path our descending course 
must take, and how merrily we bowled along its 
almost parallel terraces, turning 366 sharp curves 
under the trained eye and practiced hand of a 
driver in whom we placed implicit trust. 

But how that road did hold out, to be sure ! 
Leaving the summit at 8.30, stopping only once 
to change horses, alighting here for a brief mid- 
night stroll, (and for a most congenial interview 
with the wayside dog) we beheld as we neared the 
valley a new scene of beauty, a sea of fog beneath 
us, which under the magical touch of moonlight, 
seemed a frozen sea of ice, the dark outlines of the 
foot-hills serving as capes and promontories 
around which the white billows had congealed. 
We could readily imagine that our charioteer had 
transported us to the North pole, (we thought we 
discerned one end of it from the lofty perch we 
had just left) but as we descended, fair Luna 
slowly drew a misty veil across her face, it 
thickened until we saw her no more, or the 
electric lights on the towers of San Jose. But 
terra firma was reached, and at i a. m. we entered 
the Vendome, where a delicious and dainty lunch 
awaited us, a refreshing sleep, after which we 


awoke, without a vestige of fatigue, to the calm 
beauty of Sabbath morning, and to the heartfelt 
thanksgiving that a new treasure was henceforth 
hung in memory's priceless gallery. 




THE narrow-gauge route, leading from San 
Jose to the city of the Holy Cross, runs 
through the Santa Cruz mountains, indeed at 
times through the bowels of the earth, long tun- 
nels being a feature of this road, but for the major 
portion of the journey, the scenery is both grand 
and picturesque. We look skyward for the tops 
of the loftiest peaks, gaze down into wild gorges 
many feet below us, send quick glances into the 
canons which we hurry by, and gain many charm- 
ing perspectives both ahead and behind our wind- 
ing path. The mountain slopes are at this time 
literally purple with the plentiful wild lilac which 
makes soft contrast with the fresh ferns and dark 
pines towering above them. From the valleys, 
narrow paths lead up to our level, made by the 
feet of burros who carry on their backs and sides 
huge loads of wood from the clearings below to 
the waiting freight cars. 

Five miles this side of Santa Cruz the road 
skirts the edge of the Big Tree grove, and here 


we alight, for although these are not the noted 
big trees of the Mariposa and Calaveras groves, 
they are a most interesting group and well repay 
a visit, especially as they possess an historical 
association, being the old camping ground of Gen. 
Fremont, and the hollow base of one of these 
monarchs, which still bears his name, he for some 
time made his head-quarters. 

The redwood tree is found from the Oregon 
line to the Santa Cruz mountains. North of 
these boundaries is the Oregon cedar, south of 
this point, the Monterey cypress is indigenous. 
The redwood's manner of growth is to send up a 
multitude of surrounding shoots which eventually 
unite with the parent stem whose great size is 
thus due to conglomeration. All stages of this 
process can be observed in a stroll through the 
twenty or more acres of this natural temple. The 
largest single tree, known as Giant, is some twenty 
feet in diameter, its height is 300 feet, and its cir- 
cumference is paced by thirty-seven masculine 
strides. In one of the Three Sisters, standing 
side by side, a stove is placed for the use of pick- 
nickers to this resort, but a majority of the trees 
are not hollow, being still it would seem in the 
freshness of youth. Alone and apart from his 
fellows towers Daniel Webster, a single tree, but 
less interesting than the groups of trees which 
spring from one base. The finest of these bears 


the incongruous name of Col. Ingersoll's Cathedral 
and consists of eight central trunks, surrounded 
by ten smaller ones, all united to a point above 
the ground that makes a climb to some of their 
numerous intersections only moderately easy. 
Another group of brothers has received the name 
of Young Men's Christian Association, and one 
more recently christened is known as Pres. Harri- 
son, in which his wife is quite as large as he, and 
little baby McKee stands close by. The foliage 
of the redwood is very like our hemlock, only that 
it is borne higher aloft. There is a pleasant and 
interesting undergrowth in the grove, including 
yellow violets, and a new variety of white violet, 
with deep crimson eyes. 

The curving line of the Bay of Monterey is 
nearly duplicated by the mountain range 20 miles 
inland, and in this pleasant sunny strip of terri- 
tory, Santa Cruz is situated. It is a quiet sea- 
coast town, with pretty residences and gardens, 
and attractive shops which display shells, delicate 
mosses, and other treasures of the sea. There are 
two miles of beautiful beach within the city limits, 
and in the cliffs beyond, the first sculptor, Nep- 
tune has carved grottoes and natural bridges, which 
richly reward a drive thither, although this natural 
curiosity does not equal the beauty of La Jolla on 
the San Diego shore. Congress has been recently 
petitioned to provide a breakwater for this pleas- 


ant bay, that vessels may here find safe and com- 
modious anchorage. On certain days a little 
steamer crosses from Santa Cruz to Monterey, but 
to skirt the coast's crescent outline by rail is a 
three hours' journey. 

The lethargic little town of Monterey is the 
quaintest place we have visited since Santa Fe. 
It is one of the towns where we have to rouse 
ourselves occasionally to make sure we are not 
dreaming. The locality was first "discovered" in 
1602, when Vizcaino landed here and took posses- 
sion of the country in the name of Philip III. of 
Spain, naming it in honor of the Viceroy of Mex- 
ico, Caspar de Zuniga, Count of Monterey, who 
was projector of this northern cruise. Over 160 
years later, still prior to our birth as a nation, the 
hitherto unbroken silence of this primitive region 
was stirred by another inscription on history's 
page, the founding of the old Carmel Mission by 
Father Serra, president of the band of Franciscan 
missionaries. The mills of the gods grind slow, 
but with unerring purpose toward the advance- 
ment of the race and the survival of the fittest. 
So Monterey at last witnessed the Franciscan 
downfall, and eventually the first establishment in 
California of U. S. authority. Gen. Fremont fling- 
ing to the breeze in July, 1846, from a flag-staff 
still preserved, that emblem of progress and free- 
dom, the stars and stripes. Many of Monterey's 



residents are still of Spanish blood and their 
homes bear that distinctive national type, many 
being built of adobe and in some instances sur- 
rounded by high walls, which roses clamber over. 
The old one-story Spanish theatre still stands, 
though now used as a storehouse. 

Two miles beyond Monterey, upon a promon- 
tory of the bay, stands pine-shaded Pacific Grove, 
originally selected as the annual camp-ground of 
the Methodist-Episcopal conference, but so de- 
lightful did the site prove that a town of two 
square miles has since sprung up with hotels, 
schools, and a thriving population, greatly in- 
creased in summer by the anniversary exercises 
of various societies of all denominations. 

But the tourist is not drawn to this locality by 
any of these attractions. He comes chiefly and 
solely to visit the Hotel del Monte, in comparison 
with which everything else sinks into insignifi- 
cance. One approaches the description of this 
charming place with reluctance, realizing his utter 
inability to do it justice, the meagre inadequacy 
of the most unabridged vocabulary of adjectives 
to portray its loveliness. However free a rein be 
given to the reporter's superlative pen, exaggera- 
tion is still impossible. This world in itself known 
as Del Monte, is situated a mile and a quarter this 
side of Monterey in a natural forest of pines and 
live-oaks, this environment suggesting its name, 


the word moiite in Spanish being appHed to either 
forest or mountain, so that the title is Hterally 
Hotel of the Forest. The building alone is beau- 
tiful, with its wide rambling fagade, its long an- 
nexes on either side with their gracefully curved 
connecting corridors, and makes with its floral 
surroundings, the fairest of pictures, when viewed 
in chance sections through some opening in the 
tree branches as we ramble through the grounds. 
Within, the hotel is far more cosy than a place of 
such vast extent is apt to be ; its reading and 
writing-room might serve as a family library, its 
drawing-room is most inviting and restful. The 
dining-room is more imposing, being large enough 
to seat 500 people, and its table-service of white 
frosted silver, suitably engraved '' El Monte," — 
The Forest — is of the finest description. There 
is not an unpleasant room in the house, and every- 
where an almost painful neatness prevails. And 
ah ! what sleep comes to the traveller here ! The 
nights are a blank, a refreshing plunge in Lethean 
oblivion until the birds with enticing call lure us 
to an early walk beneath the umbrageous shades 
which they have chosen to inhabit. The mocking- 
bird is common here, also the blue jay with his 
jaunty comb. 

Setting forth to explore these wondrous grounds, 
whose outer boundaries we may not hope to fathom, 
a wrong direction can hardly be taken, nor is there 



possibility for its attractions to become monotonous. 
There is everywhere such variety of charm, such 
novelty, brilliancy and beauty. The diversity of 
floral display has no limit. There are ribbon beds 
and borders where every separate plant has its 
hair parted exactly in the middle, and not an eye- 
lash is suffered to grow astray. There are more 
tangled plats where brilliant effects are produced 
by masses of contrasting colors. There are places 
set apart exclusively for rose culture, others for 
camelia japonicas ; in one bed we counted fifty 
different varieties of calceolaria, each one hand- 
some enough to exhaust a dozen exclamation 
points, and there is one large section devoted en- 
tirely to the culture of cacti of all kinds, many of 
them displaying the oddest most oriental-looking 
blossoms. All of these 126 acres of cultivated 
garden are heightened in charm by intervening 
stretches of beautiful green lawn, by lofty trees 
wreathed with ivy garlands, and from whose 
branches green moss hangs pendant, while masses 
of flowering myrtle surround their base. A maze 
is planted in the ground, formed of tall cypress 
hedges, from which if the explorer ventures too 
far he is liable to call lustily for assistance in 
emerging. Another feature is a large lake, the 
" Laguna del Rey " (Lake of the King) with a 
pleasant drive about it, bordered all the way by 
shrubs and . the silvery plumes of pampas-grass ; 


boats are also provided for the guest to float at 
will on these placid waters. 

Space fails to enumerate all the attractions of 
this sylvan retreat, but among them, and one of 
the proper things to do is to take the Seventeen- 
mile Drive, a road that includes a succession of 
beautiful views, both inland and of the ocean, also 
a visit to Monterey, Pacific Grove and the Carmel 
Mission. Inspiring scenes all, but on returning 
to the winding, shady avenues of the Del Monte 
we experience a fresh delight which is almost a 
surprise that the place is so surpassingly lovely. 
Can anything else compare with it } Does any- 
thing like it exist on this planet } Can even 
Paradise be fairer ? If so, we hope the angel of 
Life, whom men call Death, will not tarry too 




TO spend a season in California and not visit 
the valley of the Yo Semite is to witness the 
play of Hamlet with the omission of its title-role. 
To go or not to go ? That was the question. It 
was an easy matter to decide, the trip seemed an 
easy thing to accomplish ; the very affable agent 
of the Berenda route thither, at his office in San 
Francisco, makes of the journey by his glowing 
rhetoric an enjoyable pastime, he smooths every 
difficulty from the tourist's path, allows him to 
select. the seat he prefers in the photographed 
stage-coach with its three spans of prancing steeds. 
He paints the scenery with masterly touch, 
portrays the unprecedented grandeur of the 
waterfalls after this winter of unusual severity, 
unblushingly declares the existence of new cat- 
aracts, and other remarkable features never known 
before in the memory of man, with other fictions 
of his fertile imagination which leaves our pre- 
vious hesitancy and doubt as to the advisibility of 
so early a visit to the mountains without a leg to 


stand upon. If he had asked us to sign away our 
entire fortune we should not have demurred, and 
certainly the mere bagatelle of the ticket's com- 
pensation it was quite a condescension for him to 
relieve us of. The stage fare is only $50.00 for 
the round trip (a slight discount being made to 
Raymond and Whitcorab proteges) ; $7.00 more 
pays the railway transit to and from the stage 
terminus, and as to the slight incidentals - — but 
let us herewith draw a veil. 

The start is made from San Francisco at sunset 
on the Los Angeles train which however drops us 
at midnisfht on a side track at Berenda. The 
cessation of motion, with the noise and jerks of 
disconnecting the car arouses the traveller who 
after waiting an hour or two for something else to 
happen, lapses into uneasy slumber only to be 
again disturbed by the arrival of the engine which, 
with the customary snorting and explosive puffs, 
attaches itself to take us to Raymond, by which 
recent growth of the railroad, the stage route has 
been cheated of twenty miles. 

From this point the tourist sacrifices all further 
personal choice of his comfort, or hours of rest 
and action. He is no longer a free agent. Fore- 
ordination and pre-destination absolute are the 
rules of his being, the only authority recognized 
in this locality being the supreme omnipotence of 
the Yo Semite Stage and Turnpike Company. It 


arranges his down-sitting and uprising and regu- 
lates his thoughts afar off, for no bullet is ever 
sped from the muzzle of a gun with surer aim, 
more unswerving purpose, or with much greater 
speed than the tourist is propelled in and out of 
that Valley. Especially is this true of the rising 
hour. Accordingly we must be up and dressed 
after our broken night, with every toilet detail 
finished by 6 a. m., when the matutinal appetite 
must also be on deck ready for action, for it is 
thenceforth necessary that the traveller eat his 
dollar's worth at irregularly appointed intervals. 

Breakfast over, the/<?//r-horse stage drives up to 
receive its load and we eye it askance. We have 
heard from friends who had made prior visits to 
the Valley, of the comfortable stages used on this 
route, of their canopied tops that serve as much 
needed screen from the rays of California's sun. 
Earlier specimens of the genus stage may have 
been comfortable ; we occupied one of a newer 
style. The canopy was there, in fact we made 
caput-al acquaintance with it at certain points in 
our ride quite as often as we tested the springs ij) 
of the seat. The stage had four seats, the back- 
seat upholstered with enamelled-cloth all the way 
down ; the middle seat with its minimum amount 
of motion ; the front seat, easier than the rear but 
with a restricted range of view ; and the much 
coveted seat with the driver, hot and sunny but 



having the advantage of a wide spread landscape 
and the most entertaining conversation of the 
charioteer who is always a stuffed encyclopaedia of 
information, of stories and legends, some of them 
perhaps having a shadowy foundation of truth. 
The drivers are as a rule careful, obliging and 
good-natured, all rules of course being marked by 
exceptions. The horses are well fed, well taken 
care of, are in good flesh despite their daily toil, 
and are frequently changed ; they are all duly and 
appropriately christened. Type-setter, Pile-driver 
and Charley Ross being members of our team. 
The coaches — perhaps we mentioned these vehi- 
cles before but the subject is a fertile one — are 
strong and thoroughly well-made in their running 
gear, comfort being sacrificed here to substan- 
tiality, but their interior is crude, cheaply fin- 
ished, with no provision even of straps suspended 
from its roof to steady the helpless passenger. A 
good smart Yankee would renovate these vehicles 
with many comfortable and helpful appurtenances. 
At present, they are most unbearable even when 
standing still. 

But we load into this commodious lumber- 
wagon and set forth by a narrow circuitous moun- 
tain road, in an atmosphere radiant and redolent 
with purity, brilliancy and all sweet odors. The 
breath of the hills is blown to us, the blossoms of 
the valley waft upward their fragrance. Gradu- 


ally we rise, winding round sloping hillsides, from 
whose vantage ground we look down into verdant 
fields and charming valleys. Unfamiliar wild 
flowers line the roadside with many old favorites 
including several varieties of lupin, blue and pink 
and white, the vermilion painted cup, and vivid 
mountain pink, large bushes of the wild white 
lilac, and of the buckeye bearing aloft their white 
panicles as do our horse chestnuts at home ; and 
here also we made our first acquaintance with the 
mariposa lily, or butterfly tulip, in white and 
lemon and deep yellow with large brown spots on 
each of the three leaves forming its fragile cup. 
On and still on we wind, soon gaining glimpses 
of snow-capped mountains so far away on the 
horizon that we cannot conceive our course in- 
cludes those distant heights, that any route not 
threaded by steam could include so long a trip, 
but we learn that those misty summits com- 
prise only the first ''divide"; the first night of 
our journey being spent beyond those snowy 
peaks. At our second change of horses, we pass 
a quartz mill where the mountain has been tun- 
nelled for the precious ore and the fair face of 
nature has been frequently scarred by the pros- 
pector's spade as he for a time follows a false lead. 
We pass the lively Fresno river and also an artifi- 
cial log-flume built on tall trellises for 55 miles to 
convey timber from the wooded hills down to 

124 ^'"^^ ROUND TRIP 

marketable levels. Some of the hills which we 
pass have a peculiar topography being ridged 
lengthwise by a series of undulating swells, divided 
by parallel hollows about 20 feet apart, as if the 
hillside had once served as a leviathan graveyard. 
At our fourth change of horses — Grant's Sulphur 
Springs — we stop to enjoy the generous lunch 
awaiting us, and a short rest. 

Our afternoon's task is to climb by slow and 
painful degrees to the summit of Chow-chilla 
jDcak, near which as we reach it, a wonderful view 
is obtained of the San Joaquin valley, (the light 
sedge grass giving it the appearance of a vast 
desert), of the Coast range beyond, and of one little 
dark spot, so far away as to be almost invisible, 
which is pointed out as the Raymond we left — 
when } Can it be only tJiis morning that we started, 
that but a half day has intervened between us and 
civilization, since the possibility was ours of occa- 
sionally looking upon a human habitation } But 
soon, nearer the height, we have a diverting 
novelty in the form of snow-drifts as high as the 
top of our coach, though the road-bed is bare. 

The summit is reached joyfully, for now we 
begin the descent into the valley where our day's 
journey will end. But such a descent ! The 
stage it seems is behind time, the driver's reputa- 
tion must be preserved even at the expense of the 
necks or limbs of his passengers, and so the 


horses, breathless from their long hard pull, are 
given free rein, are not checked even at the 
murderous water-bars, or at the rough places 
where the wheels wallow in the soft mud to their 
hubs and the coach oscillates correspondingly. 
What matters it that the weary, worn, and sore 
human freight are thrown violently from side to 
side, or against the roof, until their necks are 
well-nigh dislocated, what if their breath is beaten 
from their bodies by severe and incessant jounc- 
ing, until the only thought of the hour is the 
promise of salvation to them who endure unto the 
end, with also the firm resolution if life is spared 
to reach home (which now seems doubtful) that 
we will advise everbody to postpone their visit to 
the Yo Semite until they get to heaven and can 
look down. We recall the remark of a dear lady 
who declared that she was never so near her 
Maker as when in the Valley. We certainly never 
expect to be so near Purgatory again as when on 
our journey thither. Other friends had assured 
us that the surrounding scenery as we rode along 
would make us forget every discomfort. The 
scenery is doubtless grand hereabouts, the mon- 
archs of this forest among the noblest specimens 
we have ever seen. We remember gaining fugi- 
tive glimpses, as we came down to the seat occa- 
sionally, of several trees reeling and swaying 
across our spasmodic vision like tipsy revellers, 


but we neglected to speak of them, knowing our 
tongues would be severed in the attempt. We 
shall long remember the descent of Chow-chilla as 
a needless outrage perpetrated upon innocent vic- 
tims. But our discomforts safely ended at night- 
fall when we drove up to the Wawona Hotel to 
receive the courteous attention, the cleanly rooms, 
and excellent table always provided by those 
excellent men, the Washburn brothers. The 
wonder is to find anything to eat so far away from 
market, or depot. 

The sleep of the righteous visits every pillow at 
Wawona, a baptism of health and strength like- 
wise descends as if from the mountains that sur- 
round on every side this cup-like vale, the alchemy 
of this rare elixir sweetens the sorely-tried dispo- 
sition of the disgusted traveller and (as a natural 
consequence) restores to freshness the storm- 
tossed frame. What luxury it would be to lie in 
the early dew-fragrant dawn and let the restful- 
ness and calm soak in to one's consciousness but — 
we are bought with a price and our purchasers are 
pro tern, our masters. We must therefore be 
awakened at five, breakfast at six, and with 
dread and trembling mount another coach for the 
drive thence into the Valley where we are due at 
2 P.M. Will it, at last, we wonder compensate us 
for all this misery 1 We have ceased to ask re- 
garding distances, for miles mean nothing here. 



Among the fictions of the trip is the statement 
that the stage-ride is one of sixty miles. Invert 
the six to approach nearer the truth. And how 
do they measure miles in these mountains ? We 
learned this from our truthful ij) driver. A pack 
of grayhounds are loosed and allowed to run until 
they drop dead from exhaustion, at which point 
the first mile stake is placed, a fact which no 
visitor to the Valley can ever gainsay. 

But the ride of to-day is a great improvement 
upon that of yesterday. Our driver is careful and 
compassionate, the road is in better condition and 
the scenery is much grander and less monotonous. 
Following for a time the south fork of the Mer- 
ced, we begin to wind about and ascend the last 
barrier which lies between us and our goal, reach- 
ing a height of over 6000 feet, gaining along the 
way, from Lookout and other points, wild grand 
views of deep gorges far, far below us through 
which the winding river cuts its way between the 
mountains. Around us is an almost unbroken 
forest of sugar pine, and yellow pine with its 
alligator-leather trunk, while every dead branch 
and twig is swathed with moss of living green, 
so kindly does our mother Nature heal every 
wound, and transform death into beautiful life. 
Light growths are few, though it is still early for 
flowers and ferns, but we see an occasional speci- 
men of the wonderful crimson snow -plant. The 


Manzanita hangs full of pinkish waxen blossoms, 
its branches so twisted and crooked that every 
bush is searched in vain for a stem straight enoug:h 
to serve as a cane. This wood works up very 
beautifully for ornamental veneering. 

At our second change of horses about noon, we 
take the opportunity to run down the road ahead 
of the coach, for a restful change, we inspect the 
watering trough, the road, the trees which here 
allow such restricted range of view, when, speed- 
ing on lest the fresh horses overtake us too soon, 
suddenly, as if the planet had dropped from 
beneath our feet, the trees disappeared on our 
right, the sky rolled itself backward like a scroll 
to give space to a vast army of peaks and domes 
and mountains of granite, a double row, the ver- 
dant gorge between, and we realized with a gasp 
that was almost pain, that we were looking upon 
the marvellous Valley. We stood on Inspiration 

Majestic, solemn, awe-some in the massive 
sweep of its gigantic contours, in the wonderful 
stillness, the immovable calm that broods above 
it, as if here it was that God rested "on the 
seventh day from all that He had created and 
made, the heavens and all the host of them." 
There are some moments, some experiences that 
come to us which are untranslatable in any human 
speech, and this was one. Stirred to the inner- 



most depths of our being, where reverence and 
humility stand side by side, we resolved, realizing 
our impotence, never to commit the sacrilege of 
attempting to describe this master-piece of the 
Creator, and we never will. Let it be written 
alone on tables of stone. 

How long we might have stood there had not 
the coach arrived to pick us up, we cannot say. 
The driver kindly dissected the grand spectacle 
for us, letting us down easily to ordinary levels of 
thought and feeling, and explained that the mas- 
sive buttress on the left was El Capitan ; on our 
right were the Three Graces, in the farthest dis- 
tance, the North, and South or Half-Dome, as if 
our stunned and bewildered consciousness could 
take cognizance of compass-points ; over there was 
Cloud's Rest, so-called because clouds often hover 
upon it when other spots in the Valley are clear. 
The white ribbon let down several hundred feet 
from one of these heights is we learn Bridal Veil 
Fall, only to be enjoyed from a nearer view where 
its misty drapery floats airily and gracefully as the 
wayward zephyrs frolic with its gossamer meshes, 
and especially when the afternoon sun-beams, 
floodmg it with their prismatic dyes, make of it a 
vision of loveliness too fair for earth. A smaller 
fall high up on the mountain's face is disrespect- 
fully known as "■ The Widow's Tear " because, 
being supplied by melting snows, it dries up in six 



weeks. On the opposite side of the Canon are 
Cascade falls, and the delicate pleasing Ribbon 
fall, such airs and graces do these stern ledges 
assume, such beauty do they clothe themselves 
withal. This lightness tempers somewhat, as 
does this minute particularization of these varied 
features, the deep emotion, the painful tension 
which the sublimity and grandeur of the scene 
inspires. Never again do we expect to read so 
clearly in terrestrial language the mighty impress 
of the Almighty Hana, the tracing of the Infinite 
Sculptor. It was with a positive relief at last that 
we turned our backs upon the mighty gorge and 
followed the serpentine trail down the last steep 
slope to the Valley's floor. A seven-mile drive still 
lay between us and the hospitable doors of the 
Stoneman House, but with its genial proprietor, 
Mr. J. J. Cook, as fellow-passenger, we were nat- 
urally in no undue haste to end our journey. 

What a drive it was ! What a revelation of our 
own insignificance, of our utter incapacity to take 
in such immensity with the faintest approach to 
due appreciation, or the folly of attempting to 
adapt our little two-foot rule of measurement 
to this gigantic scale. For instance, the driver 
pauses to point out a minute green twig just 
above a heap of talus, on the side of El Capitan. 
After careful inspection we at last discern some- 
thing which might serve as a doll's Christmas 



tree, whereupon we are asked to believe that by 
actual measurement the tree is 125 feet high. 
We stop again to admire the grand old Sentinel, 
the majestic Cathedral Spires, pausing longest at 
the foot of the Bridal Veil whose cool breath sug- 
gested to the Indian the baleful influence of an 
evil spirit, Po-ho-no, which name was given to 
this vision of indescribable beauty. The cataract 
feeds three streams which here seek the river, the 
beautiful river of Mercy (Merced) which, flowing 
through its entire length, is not the least charm 
of the Valley. Indeed were it not for this clear, 
limpid stream, and the beautiful green meadows 
with which it surrounds itself, the rich growth 
which it feeds, the austere and massive grandeur 
of the Valley would be well-nigh unbearable. 

As it is, the first mental impression and one not 
lifted until the second day, is that of overwhelm- 
ing sadness. The burden of isolation oppresses 
us. Heaven itself is not so far away as are we 
from every mundane interest or association. If 
these stern gray ledges were not quite so high, if 
their magnificent proportions could be toned down 
just a little nearer our comprehension, if the cata- 
racts were less tremendous in their daring leaps. 

Ah verily, what is man that Thou art mindful 
of Him, or the son of man that Thou visitest him 
with such revelation of Thy matchless glory, 
Thy Creative Majesty .? 




THE location of the pretty Stoneman House, 
built by the State, is well chosen. Almost 
the entire length of the Valley must be threaded 
to reach it, and when there, the visitor is sur- 
rounded by most attractive points of interest. On 
the left. Glacier point rises 7000 feet ; on the right 
are the Royal Arches and Washington Tower, 
while the grand Yo Semite fall makes its three 
gigantic leaps apparently but a stone's throw dis- 
tant, although if one wishes to make nearer ac- 
quaintance with its varied phases of beauty and 
decides to stroll down the road until he comes 
opposite to this mighty cataract, he will continue 
to stroll for some time and approach no nearer to 
its base than when it proved such an irresistible 
magnet from his seat on the hotel veranda. A 
beautiful view can be obtained from the rear of 
Barnard's hotel, and at this point the majestic 
roar, with the bomb-like explosions peculiar to this 
fall are constantly heard. It is a fascination of 



which one never tires to watch this ceaseless mo- 
tion, this never-wearied activity, which approaches 
the Goethean ideal of '' unhasting, unresting," for 
in all these cataracts and cascades there is a sug- 
gestion of laziness in their descent, until one re- 
members the unrealizable height which their 
waters span. They seem in no hurry to leave 
those solemn heights and join the chattering river, 
they indulge in little side-escapades, shoot out a 
rocket here and there, take time to clothe their 
watery sheen with concealing mists and vapors, 
but the great heart within beats in true rhythm 
to Nature's mighty laws, and the key-note of their 
grand symphony is in ascending scale like the 
" Hallelujah " chorus : '' For the Lord God Om- 
nipotent reigneth." 

On the hither side of the Yo Semite is the 
Indian Canon up whose steep sides and rocky 
debris the Yo Semite tribe escaped when pursued 
by the Mariposa recruits, in May 185 1, on the occa- 
sion of the first entrance to the valley of any 
white man. The depth of this defile, its rough 
and jagged features are wonderfully revealed when 
the morning sun manages to smuggle a few of 
his gilded beams into the wild gorge. In winter 
the Valley's allowance of sunlight is but two hours 
long. The name Yo Semite, as is well known, 
signifies a great grizzly bear, not from any resem- 
blance which the gorge bears to this animal, but 



because of a successful encounter in prehistoric 
times, of a young chief with one of these monsters, 
whom the athlete slew, though unarmed, save 
with the dead limb of a tree. To perpetuate this 
deed of prowess, the name of the animal was 
given as a title of honor to the young brave, was 
transmitted to his children, and thus eventually to 
the tribe which occupied the valley when it was 

Speaking of sunrises reminds every Valley 
visitor at once of the marvellous experience at 
Mirror lake. It is doubtful if anywhere on the 
planet there is a lovelier spot than this crystal 
sheet of liquid purity, at the base of Mt. Watkins 
especially in the early dawn when it is still, as the 
Indians called it, a " sleeping water," and not a 
ripple has as yet disturbed its dreamless rest. It 
is a visible expression of 

" The peace at the heart of Nature, 
The light that is not of day." 

Clear-cut as a cameo, the mighty peaks pene- 
trate these watery depths, 4000 to 6000 feet below 
us, their scars and clefts repeating themselves with 
such startling vividness that effects not noticeable 
through the medium of the air are plainly dis- 
cerned through the limpid wave. Some discol- 
oration s on a crag a mile perhaps above us are a 
train of cars and engine in that illusive nether 
world. A clothes-line with the washing all hung 



out SO early in the morning, is the most realistic 
thing imaginable. Entranced we stand on the 
margin of this crystal floor watching the marvel- 
lous picture, noting its soft contrasts of light and 
shade play about those gigantic cliffs beneath that 
wondrous distant sky ; we gaze longingly as an ex- 
iled Peri might stand outside the gates of Para- 
dise, and yearn in vain to enter. But now a won- 
derful scene opens. A faint flush glorifies the 
world at our feet, a golden dart pierces its azure 
calm, another of roseate hue thrills and warms the 
scene, gilding each massive outline with a lumi- 
nous halo, and now quicker and faster the radiant 
beams shoot over the slopes of yon granite moun- 
tain in the nadir realm, until the first curve of the 
great luminary is seen, higher and higher it mounts 
till the sun has gloriously risen and dimmed that 
enchanted world whose denizens we were. Again 
and again, as we seek a new position on the mir- 
ror's edge, is the scene repeated, while we reso- 
lutely turn the back of our head toward the zenith 
where one generally looks for solar displays, and 
gaze down, down thousands of feet, it would seem, 
into the visionary and unreal. How like it is to 
our mortal experience, where the reflection is all 
that our dull eyes discern, where we turn con- 
stantly away from the real and the true, the life 
that is spirit, for the glamour of its shadow, which 
must ever fade from our perception, as the Sun of 


Truth dawns upon our spiritual consciousness. 

The trips which can be made in the Valley are 
legion, and a week, at least should be devoted to 
them, though in this connection it might be well 
to advise the tourist to ''put money in his purse" 
for to quote from a witty commentator, " Man 
brought nothing into this world, and if he stays 
long in the Yo Semite Valley, it is certain he will 
carry nothing out." All that the hotels and Stage 
Co. do not get, the wily livery man will. The 
trails to Glacier Point, Eagle Peak and Upper Yo 
Semite are at the date of our early visit not yet 
open (the emphatic ten-days-old statement of the 
affable agent in San Francisco to the contrary, 
notwithstanding), but the most satisfactory and 
beautiful of all the excursions (we speak neces- 
sarily from limited experience) is that to Vernal 
and Nevada falls. 

The trail from Tis-sa-ack bridge along Grizzly 
Peak, though hewn out of solid rock is almost 
wide enough for a carriage, and yet our well- 
trained steed prefers a footing so close to the 
edge that we seem to hang far over the steep 
precipice, but we do not« demur. We remember 
that he knows far more about his business than 
we ever shall, and that if we are born to be hung 
or drowned we cannot possibly suffer harm on this 
winding stair. The Mohammedan fatalism would 
really be an excellent travelling companion, or 


rather that perfect trust which casteth out every 
fear, and never under any circumstances knows a 
shadow of trembling. In entering this grand 
canon, we leave the Yo Semite behind, having 
Glacier Pt. one of its boundaries, at our back, the 
beautiful little Illilouette fall high up towards the 
clouds on our right, towering ledges on either 
side, and at their base the main current of the 
Merced river struggling over its rocky bed. We 
soon approach a bridge spanning the noisy stream 
and turning to cross it, that vision of beauty, the 
Vernal fall bursts suddenly, dazzlingly upon our 
view in the near distance, and takes our most ardent 
expectancy by surprise. Gladly we dismount at 
Register rock and clamber over and around moist 
boulders to approach nearer the foot of this crys- 
tal torrent as far as Lady Franklin Rock to which 
point, in 1863, that lady was carried in a chair. 
Tho Fall is not very hospitable in its welcome, it 
will not allow us to reach the '' ladders " by which 
it is possible to climb to its highest level, for it 
drenches us and drives us back by a spray so 
dense as to be blinding and almost suffocating. 

Returning, we again mount and thread a zig-zag 
trail backward, forward, and upward, this eques- 
trian procession forming three or four tiers across 
the face of the mountain, each row being far above 
the next lower, when at last reaching the highest 
point, in a twinkling that takes one's breath away. 



the marvellous grandeur of the Nevada fall, and 
that handsome dome, the Cap of Liberty, bursts 
at once upon our enraptured gaze. There is some- 
thing very imposing about this isolated height. 
It is unique and singular, both in shape and char- 
acteristics. It appeals strongly to the apprecia- 
tion of the beholder, and aroused in us a far 
deeper emotion than did El Capitan ; we could 
never tire of studying its grand proportions. We 
turn aside here to visit the top of the Vernal fall, 
where leaning over a huge stone buttress, a nat- 
ural balustrade, we look adown its wide expanse 
of emerald water and diamond spray tangled and 
broken into rainbows far below, a scene never to 
be forgotten. The river here is wonderful in its 
mad haste, its cascades and whorls and wild up- 
ward tossings, its. Silver Aprons and Emerald 
Pools. We followed the course upward, our 
beauty-loving hearts unable to absorb fast enough 
the wealth of varied grandeur that surrounds us, 
until we reach the foot of Nevada fall, an appro- 
priate climax to a day on which we have touched 
tide-water of rarest enjoyment. 

Beautiful beyond suggestion, grandest, most 
fascinating object in all the Valley, we could sit 
for hours and watch its changeful flow. The 
whole Merced river here falls over a mountain wall 
617 feet high, although the water seems less to fall 
than to resolve itself into froth and foam, and float 


out upon the air, to wave silvery banners here and 
there and then pierce them with flying rockets, so 
rarely repeating the same effects that the ob- 
server appreciates the appropriateness of the In- 
dian title which means ''meandering," though 
this is the last word one would expect to find in a 
savage vocabulary. 

" Now shining and twining, 

And pouring and roaring, 

And glittering and frittering, 

And gathering and feathering. 

And whitening and brightening. 

And quivering and shivering, 
And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing, 
And so never ending, but always descending, 
Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending, 
All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar, 
And this way the water comes down at Lodore." 

A house has sprung up here (Snow's), we hardly 
know how, unless it grew through a new law of evo- 
lution peculiar to this land of wonders. It was not 
yet open, so we spread our lunch upon an adjacent 
rock and quaffed nectar from the clouds, feasting 
our eyes meanwhile (the truest refreshment) on 
that lovely veil of silver sheen, suspended across 
the mountain's breast, on whose enchanting grace 
we hope sometime again to look. 

Morning in the Yo Semite Valley ! What a rare 
experience to return from the realm of spirit and 
take up again our physical instrument amid such 


sublimity of environment, to renew once more our 
conscious connection with the material world 
within the hidden fastnesses of these eternal hills! 
What a solemn hour it should prove, what new 
baptism it must impart, to strengthen the soul for 
all sterner duties which await us ! Is the hour 
such ? Alas, no ; repose is an unknown quantity 
in this region. Even the border land of dream- 
life is invaded by the hurrying and skurrying of 
departing guests, and when at last our time ar- 
rives, the porter's prompt reveille upon our door 
puts a speedy end to contemplation, or devotion. 
At no stage of the Yo Semite trip is an early de- 
parture less imperative than for the drive from the 
Stoneman House to Wawona, consequently with 
strange masculine inconsistency, the hour fixed by 
the ''Turnpike" Medes and Persians is the earli- 
est of them all. At quarter of six, with valises 
packed, and breakfast bolted, our four-horse team 
(Star and Keno, Girl and Sullivan, who lacks as 
yet the diamond belt of his godfather) stand paw- 
ing the ground at the door. We mount and hurry 
down the Valley, striving to impress indelibly 
upon our memories its every feature, we pass from 
its portals, climb again to the summit, jounce 
down the other side, and reach Wawona at one. 
The mid-day repast is immediately served and 
without a moment's opportunity even for custom- 
ary ablutions, we are loaded into an open vehicle, 



far easier than the stage however, and are driven 
away to the Mariposa grove of Big Trees, a spot 
we have longed to visit, but the Frost King hav- 
ing prolonged his reign to this unprecedented 
date, the snow still lies too deep for the custom- 
ary drive through the excavated heart of the living 
tree, Wawona. The Grizzly Giant, claimed to be 
the largest tree in the world, is 33 feet in diameter 
and nearly 100 in circumference. Standing 
against its mammoth proportions the plumpest 
person in our party looked a child, this being 
the only way to assist the eye to a true meas- 
urement and realization of the tree's enormous 

These Sequoia gigantea are a slightly different 
species from the redwood of the Santa Cruz 
region, which are classified as the Seqtioia semper- 
virens. Their generic name was chosen to per- 
petuate the memory of Sequoyah, a Cherokee 
chieftain of remarkably advanced mind, he having 
invented an alphabet of eighty-six characters that 
his tribe might have a written language, the system 
being still in use. Our national heroes are duly 
remembered in the christening of the grove, 
with some of our scientists and poets. One tree 
known as the Telescope, allows a range of vision 
125 feet upwards, its hollow trunk having been 
burned out, but sap enough still flows through the 
shell to support foliage. Many of the trees are 



thus marked by the ravages of fire. The grove is 
not composed wholly of these giant trees, the 
growth being chiefly of different varieties of pine, 
whose size elsewhere would seem worthy of note, 
and the showy white blossoms of the dog-wood are 
also plentiful. 

The succeeding night is spent at Wawona, a 
place with attractions of its own, the beautiful 
Chil-noo-al-na falls being near by, with other 
pleasant mountain excursions. The studio of 
Thomas Hill located here is an interesting place 
to visit, its gallery of art-treasures being freely 
open to all. The return journey to Raymond held 
less of the terrors which beset our entrance to this 
mountain pass, for the road had been put in excel- 
lent order by the faithful efforts of the road-com- 
missioners aided by the warm dry breath of old 
Sol. But he was a little too ardent in his glances 
that afternoon. The heat for many long hours 
was intolerable, we had a foretaste of the dust 
which smothers the tourist of a later date, and 
when at twilight the Raymond inn dawned upon 
our horizon, with some real Pullman cars awaiting 
us near by, the sentiment of the party could only 
vent itself in the devout doxology ''Praise God 
from whom all blessings flow." 

One of the most graceful things ever said of the 
Yo Semite was inscribed on the hotel register by 
James Vick, whose name is enshrined in the heart 



of all flower-lovers the country over. ''The road 
to Yo Semite, like the way of life, is narrow and 
difficult, but the end, like the end of a well-spent 
life, is glorious beyond the highest anticipation." 
But far more practical, is the declaration of Hon. 
Thomas Scott of the Penn. Central R.R. "If my 
business interests lay upon this coast, I would 
build a railroad to this truly marvellous valley 
within one year from this date." 

This truly is the need of the hour. The " mar- 
vellous valley " is too far away. Candor compels 
us to confess (for we *' cannot tell a lie ") that the 
trip thither is the most inhuman experience in the 
world. With a railway built even half way to its 
ponderous doors, the Canon of the Great Grizzly 
Bear must long remain the Mecca of every traveler, 
the shrine at which all devotees of Nature will 
reverently bow. 

144 '^^^ ROUND TRIP 



WHAT a glorious journey it is to sweep across 
our American continent from the Pacific 
coast to Atlantic shores, to climb over two mighty- 
mountain ranges, cross a wide desert, to skirt the 
borders of inland seas both salt and fresh, to be 
ferried over rapidly-coursing rivers by boat or 
bridge, to whiz along prairies that are granaries 
vast enough for a world's supply, to cross thus a 
galaxy of states and territories with a portion also 
of Her British Majesty's dominions, and to enjoy 
all this from the luxurious environment of a palace- 
car, where choice viands are served with clock-like 
regularity, — what a rich experience it is ! Can 
one ever reahze the tremendous extent of this 
country, or its wonderful resources, its mineral 
and agricultural wealth until he views it thus from 
shore to shore ? And when to other comforts is 
added the Raymond espionage which means the 
absence of all care as to the detail of the long 
journey, when with a vigilance that neither slum- 
bers nor sleeps the '/ubiquitous Lyon" numbereth 


his wayward flock by name and suffereth not a 
trunk to go astray without his watchful notice, 
with what peace we lay us down and sleep, only 
to wake to the lightness and freedom of another 
halcyon day. 

A possibly envious friend once said teasingly 
'*no one who has any brains ever travels with the 
Raymonds", recognizing thus the freedom from 
anxious personal supervision which such excur- 
sionist enjoys. Blessed then are the brainless 
ones, or those who having used their brains to 
good purpose have earned now the right to such 
reposeful recreation. Brains do not lie fallow 
while travelling. Plentiful opportunities occur for 
storing the mind with valuable information, every 
hour suggesting new thought, broadening the 
range of mental vision, which is all the clearer 
because not absorbed in petty cares concerning 
that which is least. 

On a warm sunshiny afternoon near the close 
of May 1890, after a long and delightful sojourn 
in this fair Western land, we at last with great 
reluctance turn away from the Golden Gate and 
set our faces eastward. The calm blue waters of 
the bay seem loth to ripple their last farewell, for 
through inlet and cove they merge into San Pablo 
bay and thence to Napa creek, where Vallejo is 
seen four miles away, opposite to Mare island, an 
important western naval station, a verdant spot, a 


rendezvous for roses and trailing vines and leafy 
shades which embower the officers' pleasant homes 
and make brilliant the hospital grounds. In the 
stream near 'by is anchored Admiral Farragut's 
flag-ship, the Hartford, disabled now and roofed 
over to prevent further ravages of the elements. 

At this point we reach Port Costa and our 
course changes for before we are aware our entire 
train with one other and their two powerful en- 
gines are quietly transferred to the largest ferry- 
boat in the world — the Solano. Of course every 
one is on deck at once, for who ever knew a Ray- 
mond tourist to remain in his own car one moment 
after it became stationary, although with equal 
alacrity he melts from sight like the dew in his 
obedient response to the first call "all aboard." 
Some twenty minutes are consumed in crossing 
the Straits of Carquinez, and at Beniciawe resume 
our long landward journey, until at dusk we reach 
California's capital — Sacramento — where our 
accommodating intinerary allows us a stop-over of 
a night and half-day. 

In only eight instances in our Republic is the 
capital of a state its metropolis and the capital of 
California is not its most attractive city. The 
portion devoted to residences is charming, and 
great attention is paid to floral adornment. We 
have never seen magnolia trees in fuller wealth of 
bloom than they here display, and contrasting with 



them is the bright green foliage and vivid pink 
of the pomegranate. Broad streets intersect each 
other at right angles but the main business por- 
tion of the city wears an old-time look, which be- 
speaks its record of mining days, the early rendez- 
vous as it was of westward bound emigrants, the 
first settlement to greet the eyes of weary wander- 
ers over the plains. Many of the buildings are 
still Mexican in type, with broad verandas across 
their second story, and bearing the marks of age 
and delapidation. The sidewalks are of wood, and 
so much raised above the street level as to require 
a bridge of sharp descent and ascent at each street 
corner. Cleanliness is not a feature of this part 
of the city, however noticeable in more favored 

The Capitol building sits grandly in its beauti- 
ful park and leaves nothing to be desired in its 
architecture or ornamentation. Its senate-cham- 
ber and assembly hall contain full length portraits 
of California's governors, the corridors and stair- 
ways are adorned with paintings illustrating early 
scenes in the phenomenal history of the state, 
while in the rotunda on the first floor is seen that 
notable piece of statuary, Columbus before Isa- 
bella, these two figures of heroic size, together 
with the kneeling page of the Queen, being 
carved from one solid block of marble by Larkin 
G. Mead, and presented by D. G. Mills to the 


State of California. As we gaze admiringly upon 
this work of art we cannot restrain the wish that 
the fair Isabella could have foreseen the magni- 
tude of the cause to which she pledged her jewels, 
or the marvellous growth which would spring from 
that tiny seedling planted by her hopeful hand ; 
that her woman's soul could have seen its faith 
justified, and have read her own record in the 
history of nations, could have known that she would 
be thus immortalized, sitting here enthroned in this 
marble paved temple with the warm golden light 
from its open portals touching her face and form 
with a glory that is almost life. 

Art has in Sacramento another chosen home. 
A valuable collection has been donated by Mrs. 
Charles B. Crocker, who also built in her own 
grounds the handsome building which holds these 
treasures of painting and sculpture. The many 
rare gems which are here so attractively placed 
would require more time to properly appreciate 
and enjoy than we have at our command, but we 
still carry away many delightful remembrances to 
enrich future thought. In the position of honor 
in the main hall, beneath a massive painting of 
Yo Semite, rests the tie of California laurel and 
four iron rails which formed with the golden spike 
the last connecting links in that narrow shining 
bridge which spans a continent, to whose comple- 
tion the efforts of Mr. Crocker lent such valuable 


assistance. It was at Promontory, near Ogden 
where the Central Pacific R. R. building east and 
the Union Pacific hastening westward finally met, 
May 10, 1869. 

*' Where two Engines in our vision 
Once have met, without collision." 

" What was it, the Engines said 
Pilots touching — head to head, 
Facing on the single track 
Half a world behind each back ? " 

♦' What it was the Engines said, 
Unreported and unread, 
Spoken slightly through the nose, 
With a whistle at the close," 

only Bret Harte heard, and translated for our 
duller comprehension and certainly no recent date 
has chronicled an event of greater importance, of 
vaster moment to the nation. 

Leaving Sacramento at noon and threading the 
orchards and vineyards that encompass her about, 
passing beyond this smiling valley toward the foot 
hills where we view many traces of hydraulic min- 
ing (a method now forbidden by law, lest the hills 
themselves be washed away, and the lowlands be- 
come unfertile, the rivers unnavigable), we com- 
mence with keen anticipation the ascent by day- 
light of the Sierra Nevada mountains, two strong 
engines with labored breath attempting the up- 
ward o^rade. 


If friends at home should try to mentally locate 
us now, probably the last point at which the wild- 
est imagination could place us would be rounding 
Cape Horn ; and yet this is the first experience 
we are called upon to enjoy. On a high promon- 
tory of the first range we ascend, a narrow shelf 
has been pecked away from the rocky heart of the 
mountain (at first by men suspended by ropes from 
the summit), now daily used as the main highway 
of this large railway system, and exactly on the 
sharpest curve of the cape we pause for some 
minutes in mid-air to enjoy the wondrous scene 
unrolled beneath us. Hundreds of feet below, a 
deep verdant gorge, through which the muddy 
American river winds like a tiny thread, wide and 
turbulent as it doubtless is, if true to its title, 
leading the eye by graceful twist and turn, out 
from these lofty confines to other chasms beyond. 
Turning from this dizzy height, we have just time 
to press the wild azaleas which find room to grow 
on this sterile point, when we stop for orders at 
Blue Canon. And why ''Blue".? Is the river 
that rises here bluer than other mountain streams, 
albeit the waters of the little brook are so clear 
and pure that we delightedly fill our drinking cups 
at its brim and gather the spearmint which bor- 
ders its edge, or is the name given because of this 
bluish afternoon haze that floods both sides of the 
canon, our track here as in many other places 



following the outline of the letters U and V 
and Z. 

But just as we grow enthusiastic over these 
beautiful Sierra, rushing from side to side of the 
car in response to some neighbor's frantic appeal 
to "look," presto, change! and there comes a 
blank. Darkness profound hems us in, and the 
fact dawns upon us that we are in a snow shed ; 
and we leave it only to enter another, and another, 
tunnel alternating with snow shed for over forty 
miles of oblivion. How tired we all grew as the 
hours wore on of the long eclipse, how aggravating 
to catch occasional glimpses, through cracks be- 
tween the boards, of beautiful landscapes around 
us only to lose them before they were discerned. 
How cold was the breath of those deep snow 
drifts, some of them the accumulation it would 
seem of a score of years, how pityingly we recalled 
the sufferings of those poor travellers imprisoned 
here during last winter's blockade, how we shouted 
with relief and joy when at last the radiant sun 
streamed in upon us, just after the lovely Donner 
Lake, of saddest history had been passed. Soon 
after we reach Truckee, a rough little lumber town, 
where we are side-tracked, and after a ramble 
about the place, the inspection in its round-house 
of the giant rotary snow-plough which did such 
valiant service a few months ago (although but 
for those despised snow-sheds, the invention of 


Mr. Crocker, and built at an average expense of 
;^ 10,000 a mile, all the snow-ploughs in the world 
could not keep open that narrow mountain path), 
we are lulled to sleep by the splash and roar of 
Truckee's riotous river, and rest until the matin's 
peal of the "regular" train which arrives at day- 
break, at whose heels we continue our journey. 





HE region between Truckee, the last town in 
_ Calif'ornia, and Reno, the first of note in 
Nevada is exceedingly picturesque. The eastern 
spurs of the Sierra still surround us, the merry 
little river, with its cascades and whirlpools and 
wild current which almost mock our speed, is our 
constant companion. Unlike most streams the 
Truckee is borne full grown as it flows only from 
the fresh water Lake Tahoe to the saline basm of 
Pyramid Lake, 97 miles distant, draining the one 
and supplying the other without altering the char- 
acteristics of either. While still revelling m its 
boisterous beauty, feeling the spirit of its frolic, a 
white post beside the track marks our passage ot 
the State Line, and California is now behind us, 
our pleasant experience within its borders but a 

Fair golden state, farewell ! We turn our faces 
eastward and hasten away but we leave our hearts 
behind, oh gracious princess, to whom all won- 
drous gifts have been vouchsafed that thou m 


turn mayest lavish them upon each idle comer. 
Ours too forever are thy mountain chains, and ver- 
dant valleys, thy desolate gorges and fruit-laden, 
rose-smothered gardens, thine awful canons, cata- 
racts and winding rivers, desert, plain and city, all, 
all are ours in blessed memory. May the joys you 
have showered upon the strangers within your 
gates return upon you and yours a thousand-fold. 
We go reluctantly, still turning back to waft a 
warm farewell. Bill Nye says truly that while 
many go to California, but few return. We sur- 
mise also that not a few who do return resolve to 
go again at their earliest opportunity. A year's 
residence in this part of our Republic is well nigh 
fatal to one's allegiance to other localities, so 
potent and irresistible is California's subtle charm. 
No greater contrast could be imagined than the 
scenery afforded by our first and second day's 
travel. When Reno and its pink sand-verbenas 
are left behind, we enter upon the desert and trav- 
erse its level wastes through the entire day and 
night, although even here the monotony is re- 
lieved by many interesting features. Snow-clad 
mountains are almost constantly in sight from a 
greater or less distance. Frequently along our 
course what seems to be a little dust-eddy, a cy- 
clone in miniature, reveals the existence of boiling 
springs and their steaming escape-valves. At 
Humboldt, where we alio:ht at noon, the arid soil 


has been converted into a refreshing Httle oasis of 
green grass and splashing fountain, and here, two 
Piute squaws bring to the station a much-swathed 
and basket-imprisoned pappoose who is further 
fettered by a cotton-cloth veil which can only be 
lifted to reveal the charms beneath on presenta- 
tion, by the curious, of a nickel, but when one of 
the numerous cameras on board the train was fo- 
cused on the group from a car window, the party 
fled precipitately, sharing doubtless the old super- 
stition that a certain portion of one's life is taken 
to make a portrait. At Elko however, a degener- 
ated chieftain in the attire of civilization was 
found who expressed a willingness to stand and 
have his picture taken all day for fifteen cents. 

At Palisade, the last place of interest passed 
before nightfall, some very picturesque scenery is 
enjoyed, the precipitous rocks on either side being 
sprinkled with a yellowish moss which resembles 
copper veining. At this point also a narrow- 
gauge road diverges to Eureka, where is located 
the richest gold mine in Nevada. We awake next 
morning in sight of that strange phenomenon, 
America's Dead Sea, skirting its borders until we 
approach Ogden, the terminus of four important 
railway systems, a city whose beautiful situation 
we did not have time to inspect as we turn aside 
here to visit the Mormon Saint's Rest — Salt 
Lake City. 


Perhaps no point in our long journey is re- 
garded with a more curious interest than is the 
capital of Utah. Its strange history, its religion, 
built upon only nine commandments of the Deca- 
logue, its long defiance of U. S. laws, with other 
unusual features increase one's natural desire to 
see this strange land. In our first drive about 
the city it was easy to decide that its beauty had 
been over-rated. We had heard of wide shaded 
streets with a gently purling river of pure water 
from the mountains, bordering every curb-stone. 
We found a swiftly-flowing muddy current in one 
gutter only of many of the streets, we found wide 
thoroughfares, it is true, but they were untidy, 
rough and ill-kept, and the sidewalks were in no 
cleanlier condition. The trees were almost wholly 
of the white locust species, which being now in 
full flower added a needed touch of grace and 
beauty to the city, which was also bathed in a 
clear radiant mountain atmosphere imparting a 
peculiar brilliancy to the sky. A perpetual inspi- 
ration is the Wasatch range of snowy peaks, which 
overlook the city and whose altitude of 13,000 feet 
it is difficult to realize, being ourselves now nearly 
5000 feet above the level of the sea. 

Driving first to the Temple enclosure, we visit 
the Tabernacle, a plain, oblong structure that will 
seat 8,000, and has twenty double doors of exit. 
After inspecting its interior, its large organ made 


of native woods, and testing its hard, uncushioned 
seats, we ascended to the gallery at the extreme 
end of the building opposite the pulpit platform 
(where behind the desk are three or four rows o 
seats for different orders of the priesthood, and 
semi-circular accommodation for the Tabernacle 
choir), and were then treated to an exhibition of 
the excellent acoustic qualities of the building a 
common brass pin when dropped upon a table 
near the pulpit being distinctly heard over 200 
feet away, a whisper was clearly audible, though 
we strongly suspect this acoustic feat was possible 
only at that especial angle, or between those two 
opposite points, for we noticed a disturbing echo 
when sitting on the side of the sanctuary, and the 
ceiling was hung with a multitude of very dust.y, 
brown and faded cedar festoons and garlands, 
placed there on the occasion of a 24th of July cele- 
bration, (the anniversary of the Mormon arrival in 
this place), and these now musty decorations are 
allowed to still remain because it was found they 
so greatly improved the acoustic properties of the 

^^ Within the high stone wall by which this Tem- 
ple block is surrounded, stands also the Assembly 
Hall, a handsome structure, used for worship m 
winter, into which we Gentiles were not admitted, 
neither gained we entrance to the imposmg granite 
Temple, begun twenty-five years ago and still in- 


complete, although nearly two millions of dollars 
have been expended upon it. The streets bounding 
this Temple block are named East Temple, West, 
North, and South Temple, the succeeding parallel 
avenues being First and Second East, or North, a 
method of designation which leads to many per- 
plexing complications, for when the visiting pedes- 
trian, upon inquiry, is told that he is now at the 
corner of Fourth South and East Sixth, he begins 
to lose all interest in localities. 

We drove through the main business street 
where is the Zion's Co-operative Mercantile Insti- 
tute and other stores, we turned aside into a pleas- 
ant avenue which leads to Prospect Hill where a 
fine view of the city and surrounding country can 
be obtained, we passed the tithing-house, the 
Gardo House, which is the Mormon White House, 
the present incumbent of the presidential office 
always residing there, we saw the Bee-Hive, the 
residence of some of Brigham Young's sons, the 
home where several of his widows reside, the small 
enclosure within the city limits devoted to the 
prophet's sepulture, and that of his wives, the line 
of accommodation being drawn at their numerous 
progeny. One house was pointed out as belong- 
ing to a man with two wives and 38 children, 
whereupon our party began to estimate the num- 
ber of shoes this patriarch would buy each spring 
and autumn, multiplied by the number of years of 



juvenile dependence, but the decimals increased 
so fast, that the problem became wearisome. 

We passed under the Eagle Gate, saw Rose 
Cottage, the beautiful residence of an English 
Mormon widow, also the homes of several pen- 
sioned wives, as since the recent action of Con- 
gress, no Mormon is allowed to visit any save his 
first wife, under penalty of arrest. Polygamy is 
now dead, the Endowment House is razed to the 
ground, property peculiar to their plural rites has 
been confiscated, but the sad and demoralized 
fruits of the long reign of error are still painfully 
apparent. We have never seen such lack of intel- 
ligence in human faces, or countenances so utterly 
devoid of expression of any kind, as on the women 
and children of this Mormon kingdom. That 
feminine snap of the eye and carriage of the head 
common to the woman who has a mind and will of 
her own and claims the right to its exercise, we 
did not once discover outside the ranks of their 
Eastern visitors. We met no Mormon child who 
was capable of answering a question, though one 
whom we pleasantly accosted was introduced to 
our notice by an attendant as " Sadie Cannon, the 
fourth wife's child, you know." 

In the afternoon we were treated to an excur- 
sion by rail to Salt Lake, 17 miles from the city, 
stopping at Garfield Beach where a handsome 
Pavilion has been erected in the water a short 


distance from the shore, and there are numerous 
bathing houses. Many of our party improved this 
opportunity to test a novel experience, that of 
bathing in water so buoyant that to sink is impos- 
sible, the Lake holding 17 per cent of salt, over 
the 3 or 4 percentage of the Atlantic brine. As 
the bathing suits provided here are of the bright- 
est hue, the blue waters presented a peculiar 
kaleidoscopic appearance, as these gayly attired 
cork dolls floated, bobbed, or writhed in most un- 
usual positions. It is a beautiful Lake, about 80 
miles long by 50 wide, with large islands in the 
near distance, Antelope being 10 miles long and 
3000 feet wide. These waters were first navigated 
by Gen. Fremont in 1842, by Capt. Stansbury in 
1850 whose name is given to one of the islands. 
Numerous fresh water streams pour constantly 
into this strange basin without in the least affect- 
ing its saline quality, and the Lake has no visible 
outlet. It supports no life save a tiny shrimp or 
insect, not so large as a New Jersey mosquito. 
The surrounding sterile-looking shores abound in 
new and beautiful wild-flowers. 

It was with the greatest interest that we sought 
the Mormon Tabernacle on Sunday afternoon to 
attend its service, although (perhaps to our shame) 
the spirit of universal brotherhood sank as low in 
our soul's barometer as it did in Chinatown, albeit 
we resolutely looked only for that which was good 


and commendable, realizing that a spirit of criti- 
cism should find no place in any house devoted to 
praise and worship of the Infinite One. The ob- 
servance of the Sacrament is a feature of every 
service, bread and water being passed in silver 
cake-baskets and flagons from hand to hand, we 
likewise assisting, though the rite is not observed 
in silence, for as the deacons and their assistants 
pass through the vast audience, the delivery of the 
sermon still goes on. The speakers alternate each 
Sabbath, an elder being chosen from the various 
districts in turn. Prof. Talmadge whom it was 
our chance to hear, is a young and very smart 
man, but for his morbid religious bias. He 
ranted a little, and even accused the U. S. govern- 
ment of arraigning itself against the only church 
of Christ, but in a Christian spirit exhorted his 
hearers to show their worth by their submission 
and obedience, making the pertinent suggestion 
that perhaps they had not so far outgrown the re- 
membrance of the persecutions and sufferings 
of Nauvoo to be entrusted with power which 
might lead to a desire for revenge. He asserted 
that if the U. S. government knew what it was 
doing it would desist, as the hand of the Lord had 
always been extended to protect this church in 
every danger that threatened her. 

Much of the discourse was lost, or overpowered 
by the superior lung capacity of hungry and un- 


comfortable children whose wails were unre- 
strained. What is the use of acoustic excellence 
in a building when it is filled with such a large 
proportion of '' Utah's best crop " who squall and 
lunch by turns ? The habit of attendance on reli- 
gious worship is one early inculcated evidently by 
the Mormon church. The singing was excellent, 
the responsive anthem carrying us back to Peace 
Jubilee days. 

Salt Lake City at present is having a boom. 
The Gentile immigration is very large, the streets 
are thronged, the city's unattractive hotels are 
crowded, and there is a spirit of prophecy in the 
air that Mormonism is on the wane, its record a 
memory of the past, and not a power of the 




REFRESHED by this break in our journey, 
glad to have had this opportunity, yet in- 
wardly resolving never to visit Salt Lake City 
again, on Monday morning we gladly start onward, 
though we do not immediately leave Mormondom 
behind, for all through the valley of the river Jor- 
dan, (which strangely enough runs into this salt 
Dead Sea from the fresh Utah Lake, which corre- 
sponds in the devout minds of the Latter Day 
Saint to the Sea of Tiberius, making of this local- 
ity a veritable Zion intended for his occupancy), 
we pass through many Mormon settlements and 
see plentiful proof, not of miraculous divine inter- 
vention, but that clear pluck and faithful toil have 
coaxed these waste places to laugh into harvests 
and to blossom as the rose. The Jordan is a 
muddy, unlovely stream, not so wide but that we 
could cast a stone to its farther bank. 

We have entered upon the course of the Denver 
and Rio Grande R.R., known as the grandest 
scenic line in the world, and it wears these laurels 


deservedly, although to enjoy this wonderful pano- 
ramic display the tourist (until the wide track now 
building, is completed) has to exchange his com- 
modious section, or private drawing-room in a 
palace-car for the less comfortable, inconvenient 
narrow-gauge sleepers, whose upper berth is 
placed so near the ceiling that it is suggestive of 
nothing else than the top-drawer of a receiving 
tomb, while the motion of the car at this altitude 
is something like that which is used in the manu- 
facture of egg-nog. And still the rich experience 
of the next three days amply repays every discom- 
fort. For how many years, when such possibility 
seemed a Utopian dream, have we longed to view 
the grandeur of the Rocky mountains, the back- 
bone of our continent, how often in fancy have we 
penetrated their wild defiles and mighty canons, 
or climbed their stupendous heights ; and now this 
coveted opportunity is ours to enjoy; we are to 
taste the pleasant fruit which we have craved, 
indeed without fatigue or effort, it drops into our 

After leaving the valley of the Jordan, we fol- 
low Spanish Fork to a pass in the Wasatch range 
known as Soldier Summit, and soon approach the 
gateway to this gigantic land, a veritable Castle 
Gate, two massive buttressed pillars advancing 
from the cliffs to hold watch and ward before 
these sacred precincts, not exactly opposite each 



other though apparently so as we approach them, 
and our ''special" train stops here to do them rever- 
ence. We alight and gaze in wonder upon their 
geometrical proportions and rich coloring, these 
isolated heights seeming still more impressive as 
we leave them in the distance, for they appear to 
draw nearer to each other, after having so charily 
allowed us room to pass. We now enter upon 
Castle Canon, a marvellous region where are the 
Book Cliffs, so-called perhaps because the 'ridges 
of parti-colored rocks lie in even layers, like the 
successive leaves of a book. But such wonderful 
fantastic shapes no book ever assumed. Would 
we could read their ancient record, so boldly writ- 
ten in hieroglyphic cypher, for surely some Titan 
horde once occupied these lordly castles and kept 
watch for coming foe from these sightly towers. 
How impregnable are their fortifications ! Note 
that palace in ruins, how grand its proportions, 
how extensive its surrounding walls ! Resem- 
blances to such structures we have seen in rock 
formations many times before, but surely no sem- 
blance these. They are too evidently the work of 
man, the citadels of a race of giants. And the 
rich veining of color which is such a feature of this 
entire region, is here at its height, exciting con- 
stant outbursts of glorious surprise. Later on, 
the cliffs which for several miles have towered 
near our windows, recede some distance where we 


view them less minutely but in more extended 
range, which gives the effect of fair cities whose 
domes and turrets, and battlements reflect on their 
red outlines the glow of the setting sun. Ah ! if 
we could preserve forever a vivid picture of this 
scene, so that we could shut our eyes at any time 
and still behold it. If it might never grow dim or 
be crowded from our consciousness. We grow al- 
most jealous of the glory to-morrow holds, which 
may efface from our fleeting memories the tran- 
scendent message of to-day. 

From Green River, which we leave at dark, we 
enter upon a barren uninteresting territory which 
we are glad to pass over during sleeping hours. 
We awake on the Uncompahgre Plateau and after 
breakfast at Cimarron Creek we take the roofless 
observation-car to better enjoy one of the most 
soul-inspiring rides the world affords, a run of sev- 
eral miles through the Black Canon of the Gunni- 
son. Who can describe this mighty gorge } Our 
wildest conception of its solemn grandeur, its stern 
features, which the secluded light serves to 
heighten, is eclipsed by this massive reality. 
Even our recent experience in the Yo Semite can- 
not dull the edge of our amazement and delight. 
Far from it. This sublime caiion cannot suffer by 
comparison with any other of Nature's master- 
pieces. It is true the Yo Semite walls rise a 
thousand or two feet higher than these, but this 


chasm is so much narrower that the effect of 
height is even greater. The human eye does not 
measure rods and roods with accuracy when the 
scale is elevated skyward. Then again the Yo 
Semite granite is of pale uniform gray. These 
giant ledges present such variegated strata, so 
many brilliant effects contrast with the sombre 
dark surface, alternating with grandeur of outline, 
peak behind peak, separated by jagged intersect- 
ing canons, far above our capacity to discern from 
this lowly road-bed unless we had eyes in the top 
of our heads ; for the hinge in our neck proves in- 
adequate to the excruciating demand upon it. But 
a beautiful object to admire on our own level is 
the impetuous sea-green Gunnison river, which 
rushes noisily by our side, exhibiting strong marks 
of impatience and dissatisfaction with the limits of 
its narrow confines. 

While still in the depth of the Canon, a peculiar 
obelisk arises on the farther side of the river bank 
which we recognize as the Currecanti Needle, and 
here we are allowed to alight, and gather vari-col- 
ored rocks for souvenirs, while our special artists 
(all of them) photograph the Needle, and other 
imposing features of these encircling walls. As 
we move on, we gain fleeting glimpses of cascades 
that leap down the mountain sides, one of especial 
beauty bearing the name of Chipeta falls in honor 
of the wife of Ouray, a chieftain of the Ute 


tribe, who was friendly to the early settlers. 
We reach Gunnison at noon, realizing for the 
first time that we are now iru Colorado, an en- 
chanted land, of which Joaquin Miller writes : 
'-' Colorado, rare Colorado ! Yonder she rests ; 
her head of gold pillowed on the Rocky moun- 
tains, her feet in the brown grass, the boundless 
plains for a play-ground ; she is set on a hill 
before the world and the air is very clear so that 
all may see her well." We seek one of her 
highest pillows this afternoon. Although quite 
surfeited with grandeur and would fain defer 
another feast, we now approach the main range 
of the Rockies and are to mount and cross the 
lofty summit known as Marshall Pass, so called 
because its former toll-man bore that name. Our 
train is divided into -two sections which then pro- 
ceed to chase each other up one winding stair 
after another (by a grade 211 feet in a mile), 
often losing sight of each other in some of the 
sharp bewildering curves of the mountain's breast, 
but soon revealed by the black breath and am- 
bitious snortings of our iron steeds, who with 
sonorous pantings and hollow groans sturdily push 
their way upward over still steeper grades, along 
deeper wilder precipices (a most exciting experi- 
ence), making a dash through an occasional snow- 
shed, until at last the Summit is reached and we 
look down upon other summits, or hob-nob with 


loftier peaks across the way, realizing now what 
the aeronaut's experience must be, or how the 
world looks over the rim of a balloon. And a 
very grand beautiful world it is. 

We pause at this altitude of over two miles 
above the sea, where some of our frisky ones en- 
gage in a snowballing match with the handsome 
brakeman, who easily whips the whole crowd, or 
drives them to the shelter of glass windows. 
Others of the party remembering that people on 
mountain heights are frequently scant of breath, 
anticipating in advance the possibility of being 
themselves similarly affected, watching narrowly 
as they near the height, to see how they feel now, 
really affect the regularity of the heart's pulsation. 
No organ responds more quickly to the slightest 
mental excitement and anxiety, on any level, but 
life has its centre and its source in far other alti- 
tudes than that compassed by physical elevation, 
or mundane topography. And if born a little 
above the level of the fishes, why should it seri- 
ously affect us to get so far away from the sea } 
We live always as spirits in a world of spirit, and 
the more we realize this, the greater freedom do 
we enjoy from the dominion of time-worn preju- 
dices, fears and beliefs. 

The descent of this grand mountain is very 
beautiful, so zig-zag in its course that two and 
three tiers of track are always visible, the severed 



halves of our train from opposite sides of a canon, 
going frequently in different directions, fluttering 
a shower of white handkerchiefs in friendly greet- 
ing. At Salida, a bustling little town we spend 
the night, with the roar of the swiftly-flowing 
Arkansas as lullaby. This stop is necessary that 
we may not lose in the darkness our next scenic 
display, the Royal Gorge, the further extremity of 
the Grand Canon of the Arkansas bearing this 
title, and right royal it is. Not a third as long as 
the Black Canon, the tension upon the beholder's 
power to absorb is less prolonged, and yet its per- 
pendicular walls and minarets measure a greater 
height, and so much more obstreperous and grasp- 
ing is the Arkansas river than the Gunnison, that 
it grudges even the narrow shelf we have been 
hitherto glad to accept, or force from the over- 
hanging rocks for our passage, for in one place a 
hanging bridge, parallel with the stream, has been 
suspended from an iron framework forged into the 
ledges which form opposing walls of this Grand 
Canon, a triumph of railway engineering. Here 
too we alight, but a few gasps of admiration are 
all of which our over full souls are now capable ; 
we have already enjoyed too much for fitting ap- 
preciation of this grand scene. We have over- 
loaded our mental stomachs, and digestion is 
thereby impaired. 

Emerging from our last mountain pass, we see 


at Canon City the guarded walls of the State 
Penitentiary, and speed on to Pueblo, from whence 
our track for a time lies between the Fort Scott 
and Gulf R. R. and the Atchison, Topeka and 
Santa Fe, the line upon whose rails we skirted this 
country when bound westward. Since then what 
rare experience has been ours ; one that forms an 
abiding treasure, to be enshrined in our heart of 
hearts forever. We make a quick run to Colo- 
rado Springs, a place of especial charm (though 
possessing no springs), with glorious views sur- 
rounding it, with Pike's Peak, draped always with 
ermine far down his royal shoulders, as a per- 
petual magnet for every aspiring eye. On a side- 
track, six miles away, is Manitou, a romantic little 
hamlet among the mountains, and it can never 
become a very large one. The heights do not 
recede far enough, the prongs by which the eternal 
hills brace themselves extend almost within the 
village streets, but what charm does this expres- 
sion of the "Great Spirit " wear, to what wonders 
does it hold the key. How grateful is the sweet 
calm that broods above it, how refreshing this 
pure, rarified air, how gladly we exchange the 
restricted confines of our narrow-gauge cars for a 
whole room, a real bed, a trunk full of untravelled- 
stained garments, and a blessed three days' rest. 




THE display of festooned bunting over the 
veranda of the CHff House, in the early 
morning, was not a necessary reminder of the 
tender associations connected with the day, for 
already, thought had flown to a dear grassy mound 
far away which we would gladly have crowned with 
fairest flowers had such rite been essential to 
express the heart's true remembrance, but happily, 
neither time nor distance, nay, not death itself can 
separate soul from soul, or prove a barrier to 
interchange of loving faithful thought. 

We had been treated to a mountain thunder 
shower the previous afternoon of several hours' 
duration with hail, and wind, and general blackness, 
save on Pike's Peak's hoary summit, where a dense 
snow storm raged. This temporary confinement 
within doors had so abridged our hours for sight- 
seeing that visits to several points of interest 
must be crowded into this charming day. We first 
walked through the town and inspected its tempting 
little stores, where are displayed the wealth of the 



Rockies, their ores, agates, crystals and gems, 
wrought into most attractive shapes and designs 
for souvenirs, or gifts to friends at home, a bewil- 
dering array, from which any eye not color-blind 
must have to turn away, to resist its fascinations. 
At the Pavilion, near the Cliff House is an espe- 
cially large collection, and here also are the 
Manitou and Navajo mineral springs with near by 
the soda and mineral baths, which some find so 
refreshing. A short mile away are the famous 
iron mineral springs, of varied properties and a 
champagne-like effervescence. 

At eight A.M. we start on our first drive in a 
three-seated carriage, as comfortable as any easy 
chair in a lady's parlor, taking the trail up through 
Ute Pass, this being the route used by the Ute 
tribe of Indians in going to and from their reser- 
vation. A short distance after passing the Rain- 
bow falls, our path leaves the road and begins to 
climb the steep height which rises on our right, a 
.sharp incline which affords us, as we ascend, some 
beautiful mountain views, and makes us acquainted 
with two heathen deities, Gog and Magog, or with 
two pinnacles of rocks thus christened. Before we 
are aware we have reached the mouth of the Grand 
Caverns, one of Manitou's notable "lions." 

There is always an element of the weird and 
supernatural about a cave to creatures formed to 
live in the air and sunshine. To the timid occurs 

174 ^^^ ROUND TRIP 

the natural uneasiness lest the entrance hole close 
up behind them, or the guide lose his way, the 
weight of darkness oppresses them, the remem- 
brance of those appalling tons of granite that 
intervene between them and the mountain's sum- 
mit, while others feel a potent fascination, an irre- 
sistible desire to go on and on, to explore each 
narrow passage way, to delve still deeper into the 
bowels of the earth. A little distance goes a 
great way under ground ; a few feet are easily 
stretched, when measured by new sensations, into 
half a mile. These Grand Caverns were acci- 
dentally discovered in 1881, by Mr. George W. 
Snider, while tracking a deer which here unac- 
countably disappeared. Four years later, after 
the cave had been thoroughly explored and cleaned 
of loose stones and debris, he opened it to the 
public. Though not extensive, it is an interesting 
cave and one of the roomiest, safest, the least 
uncanny and pokerish of any cave we ever visited. 
It is divided into three sections, the entrance to 
each one beginning near the outer world, so that 
visitors can end their explorations at any time. 

Equipped with lanterns we follow our guide 
through Canopy Avenue to Alabaster and Stalac- 
tite Halls, our footing dry, the temperature warm 
and pleasant, the avenues wide with one excep- 
tion, where the narrow tortuous corridor is named 
appropriately the Denver and Rio Grande, which 



includes on its route a Jail and a Bridal Chamber; 
(no comparisons need be drawn, as the two exca- 
vations in this instance are situated widely apart). 
The Bridal Chamber is the finest room in the 
cave, though the descent leading to it is steep, 
slippery and difficult. But here are wondrous 
formations and we catch the process of their 
growth, stalactites being seen bearing a tiny glis- 
tening drop which has trickled through this rocky 
ceiling from some unseen spring above us. Near 
by is a whole waterfall apparently crystallized, or 
congealed while still flowing. Animals' heads 
and other realistic shapes abound, a flock of snowy 
sheep are grazing near, and as fitting climax to 
this rural scene a large old-fashioned churn is seen 
with dasher complete. 

But the greatest wonder of the whole cave is 
its natural Organ. The largest chamber is known 
as the Opera House, a lofty concert hall with two 
well defined galleries in its upper recesses which 
our lanterns dimly reveal, and somewhere in the 
darkness beyond, a torch and a voice discovers the 
presence of a man in the upper loft who calls our 
attention to a group of long, curving ribbon sta- 
lactites, on which has been discovered a musical 
scale, slightly flattened in its lower register, but 
clear in its upper notes, and truly remarkable in 
every way. The organist, striking with two little 
sticks at different points upon the suspended 


Stalactites played several tunes, responding gra- 
ciously to encores from his enthusiastic audience 
in the pit. Cauliflower and lily pads seemed to 
grow out of the rocky floor at our feet, and the 
only piece of artificiality in this natural wonder 
was a monument to Gen. Grant formed of loose 
stones, begun on the day of his funeral and now 

It is customary in connection with a visit to the 
Grand Caverns to walk over to the lovely Cave of 
the Winds, situated on the other side of the same 
height, but we postponed this pleasure that we 
might devote more time to the Garden of the 
Gods, three or four miles distant. This wonderful 
spot is not happily named. A garden implies 
culture ; this large tract retains its own simple 
grandeur, untrammelled and unvexed by the hand 
of improvement. It might once have served as 
Council Chamber of some primeval deities, whose 
ruined abbeys and cathedrals spires remain to 
excite our admiration. The play-ground of tricksy 
fairies must have been close by, as these red 
sandstone exclamation points on the face of nature 
have assumed the most grotesque shapes, which 
space fails us to enumerate. Even such steady 
going animals as bears and seals here indulge in a 
game of peek-a-boo ! The entrance to this strange 
territory is fitly called Mushroom Park, as the 
rocks standing here have the effrontery to take 


on the ephemeral shape of toad-stools, which no 
rock with correct ideas of propriety would think of 
doing, especially as they are taller than the shrubs 
which grow around them. Just here we pass the 
huge balanced rock on its meagre pivotal base and 
the deer's head so clearly outlined on the opposite 
side of the narrow passage. But the grandest 
feature of the place is the colossal gateway with 
its lonely sentinel always on guard. Through 
these magnificent portals we gain from the other 
side an enchanting view of Pike's Peak beyond, 
contrasting so exquisitely in its graceful slope 
with these abrupt perpendicular bulwarks, as also 
its lovely white sheen in the noonday glare, with 
its canopy of tenderest blue, intensifies the deep 
red of the cliffs and the rich green of the sur- 
rounding foliage. The scene is almost beyond 
any fiction which imagination might paint. At 
the base of these red cliffs is a white gypsum bed 
where material is obtained for the manufacture of 
the pretty white spar ornaments. "Rare Colo- 
rado" indeed! Such a wondrous land as it is, 
so diverse in its manifestations, so fertile ni 

A mile or more beyond this point is the beauti- 
ful residence and grounds of Gen. Palmer, the 
father of the Denver and Rio Grande R. R., where 
these strange formations also abound. It is called 
Glen Eyrie because an eagle chose to build his 


nest on the high ledge of an overhanging cH£f, oc- 
cupying it until some miscreant last summer shot 
the noble bird. 

The trip to Cheyenne Canon and mountain, on 
whose summit was buried the form of Helen Hunt 
Jackson, usually consumes a whole day, as a road 
on the farther side of the mount winds nearly to 
its apex, but if only a half-day can be devoted to 
this drive, then a steep and almost impossible 
climb is necessary to reach the height. Not de- 
terred thereby, on returning from our morning ex- 
cursion at twelve, we start again at one, for the 
peak which forms a prominent feature of the land- 
scape for miles around. Passing through Colo- 
rado City, the oldest town in the state, and its first 
capital, where an effort is now being made to lo- 
cate the State Soldiers' Home, we diverge from 
Colorado Springs, whose lovely precincts, parks 
and broad shaded streets we enter later, and soon 
reach the woody pass which leads to the Cheyenne 
foot-trail, of the South Canon. 

Alighting here, three determined damsels of the 
persistent, resolute type (they were not grown in 
Salt Lake City) set forth in the face of a 
threatened shower to climb the rugged path. The 
distance is called a mile and a half, but the 
Yo Semite scale of measurement is evidently used 
here. For a long three-quarters of a mile the road 
is one which it is a luxury to tread, running beside 


and frequently crossing a beautiful mountain brook, 
which splashes over its pebbles and babbles socia- 
bly in our ears, while our eyes are directed else- 
where, to the steep gray walls that rise so high 
on either hand that we feel a little as if we had 
been dropped into a well. We wish it were not 
necessary to hurry through this majestic aisle, that 
we could linger here, a suggestion freely offered 
as advisable by discouraged returning parties who 
warn us to attempt no higher level, for the ascent 
is impossible. We leave these faint-hearted ones 
behind and press on, until, as the walls of the 
canon seem to close across our path, we turn a 
rocky corner and are instantly ushered into the 
glorious presence of the Seven Falls, one above 
the other, climbing to a point so much higher than 
our present low station can trace that we can 
readily believe the topmost fount must be the 
hand of Jupiter Pluvius himself. But even the 
lowest one is alone well worth coming so far to 
see. It is such an original fall, it leaps in so many 
different directions, carves out successive stairs for 
itself, throws its spray so far from these rocky 
shelves, and it makes such a noise about it that 
conversation is impossible while we stand on the 
slender little bridge at its feet. . 

Leading up to this chasm which the Falls leap 
down, a narrow wooden stairway has been affixed 
to the side of the mountain's breast, directly over 


the rushing torrent, a dizzy-looking cobwebby af- 
fair, but nothing daunted we begin the ascent, 
passing almost through the spray of these succes- 
sive cataracts, getting nearer and nearer the 
clouds, over 300 of these ladder rounds being 
mounted, till we reach the point where the steep- 
est climbing begins. It is on this level that Helen 
Hunt's summer cottage was erected. Here we 
meet several sturdy masculine trampers who warn 
us to "■ try not the pass," reporting *' the toughest 
climbing ever attempted," it "did not pay," it was 
"a mile further," with other kindly advice, and to 
reenforce their suggestions the black cloud which 
had been hovering above us threatened a drench- 
ing, but the gently descending drops proved grate- 
ful to our heated faces, and it soon passed over. 
*' Excelsior " was the motto of the undaunted 
three, and onward and upward they pressed. The 
face of the mountain here is very nearly perpen- 
dicular, a stable foothold being almost impossible 
to secure. Like the historic frog getting out of 
the well, progress backward is often more rapid 
than the ascent gained. A bush to which we can 
cling occurs only semi-occasionally but in one 
place of especial difficulty, a short stair is. placed, 
with a chain as handrail. Stopping here to look 
about us, we note what an exhilarating tonic is 
this pure mountain ether. A moment or two re- 
stores the pristine freshness with which we started. 


At last, after one of the steepest grades, we 
clamber over the mountain's brow and stand erect 
on its summit, whence a level winding path con- 
ducts us to the oblong pile of stones under which 
rests the dust of one unknown in mortal ex- 
pression, but spiritually dear to all. 

*' O soul of fire within a woman's clay ! 
Lifting with slender hands a race's wrong, 
Whose mute appeal hushed all thine early song, 
And taught thy passionate heart the loftier way, — 
What shall thy place be in the realm of day? 
What disembodied world can hold thee long, 
Binding thy turbulent pulse with spell more strong?" 

A few faded garlands lay upon the cairn, to 
which we tenderly and reverently added, as our 
Memorial Day offering, a few wild roses and mul- 
berry blossoms picked by the toilsome wayside. 
But how sadly we noted the desecration by the 
autograph fiend of this sacred place. Even upon 
the small pine tree in whose bark was cut. the 
simple '^H. H.", other insignificant initials crowd 
it too closely. The memorial stones upon the 
grave are used to hold down the fluttering auto- 
graphs and pencilled sentimentality of unknown 
visitors, while surmounting the pile, an unsightly 
worm-eaten slab of wood is placed to bear the 
inscription of an entire family. Is there no 
reverence in the American mind, no idea of the 
eternal fitness of things } If this prominence of 


the personality could only be suppressed, this 
undue assertion of the self-hood. Could there be 
no lesson learned here of loftier principle, of un- 
selfish devotion to the interests of others, as 
exemplified in this faithful worker's life, that while 
standing here could make of this privilege a future 
inspiration for nobler effort in humanity's service? 
If one's name might be inscribed in the grateful 
heart of the lowliest brother, what in comparison 
this paltry scar upon the face of notoriety ? And 
why need this desecration remain? Is there no 
one near who loves this dear lady, with authority 
to remove these disgraceful features ? 

The spot is beautiful, the view therefrom won- 
derfully grand. We look dozvn the Cheyenne 
Seven Falls now, we look over and into Colorado 
Springs and the mountain range beyond. This 
grand summit must have lent inspiration to the 
authoress who it is said often used to come here 
to write, and therefore expressed the wish that 
this might be her burial place. We may never 
stand here again, and do not care to, but we know 
through the law of sympathy and love, that as we 
aspire upward, even as we have surmounted this 
difficult height, we shall one day behold the face 
of this true worker, fair, shining as the sun. 




WE were to leave Manitou for Denver on the 
morrow, and as we sought our pillows 
after our over-full day and reviewed all that we 
had enjoyed in this delightful place, only one re- 
gret assailed us ; the Cave of the Winds remained 
unvisited, as well as the charming little Williams' 
Canon leading to it through serpentine walls of 
rock. But might we not still accomplish the lat- 
ter, although the hour of our departure was an 
early one, and the entrance to the Cave a mile and 
a half away ? Of course it would not be open, but 
we could at least see its location. Therefore, after 
the refreshing oblivion which visits one in these 
mountain retreats, we shook off the fetters of Mor- 
pheus before the sun had left his bed, we emerged 
into a world not yet awake, and with keenest de- 
light immediately lost ourselves in the winding 
curves, and ins and outs of this picturesque pass, 
the walls converging so closely in places that a 
carriage has barely room to pass, the peaks seem- 
ing almost to meet overhead. 


Was ever before such morning walk enjoyed? 
The shadows of the night had so recently lifted 
from these deep recesses that they seemed freshly 
created, the tinted pillars and cornices that stand 
out so boldly from these cavernous cliffs show a 
heightened color, a richer pink and cream and ver- 
milion, from their fresh bath in mountain dew. 
Even the air is azure-tinted, an atmosphere that 
does not wait to be inhaled, but seems to breathe 
itself into and through each pore and fibre of our 
being. What an hour of rapture ; what a constant 
study of form and color ! What excitement to 
thread just one more of the many curves in our 
road, to see what lies beyond it. 

Wlien a mile is passed we reach unexpectedly a 
little house on a bank above the road — any human 
habitation looking so incongruous in these wild 
surroundings — where it seems the guide to the 
Cave we sought keeps old bachelor's hall. This 
gentleman had just arisen as we passed, and think- 
ing we might wish to visit the natural wonder 
under his charge, and would be disappointed to 
find its barriers closed, quietly slipped his untasted 
breakfast into a basket and followed us with the 
kind offer, which went straight to our hearts, to 
open the cavern in advance of usual hours, for our 
especial benefit, although we learned he would 
reap no financial benefit thereby, his salary being 
assured in any case. How many would thus have 


sacrificed personal comfort and convenience for 
strangers in whom he had no interest and would 
never see again ? Evidently the law of kindness 
and unselfishness is fostered in this region. 

We chatted along this beautiful canon for 
another half-mile when, a little to our dismay, we 
arrived opposite to the entrance of the Cave, but 
we were on terra firma, the cavern's mouth was 
half way to heaven, being situated in the perpen- 
dicular face of the cliff, over 300 feet above us. 
Steep trails alternating with flights of stairs led 
upward, but would we have time to ascend before 
the breakfast hour } We resolved to attempt it, 
remembering we could eat when Manitou and its 
glories were left behind. 

We found this Cave of the Winds a diamond 
edition, gilt-edged and illustrated, of all the caves 
it has been our fortune to examine, not that it is 
smaller than any other, but so choice and exquisite 
in its minute details. Quaint little stairways lead 
from one elevation to another and crooked by- 
paths turn abruptly in an unexpected direction. 
Its architecture is intricate and copyrighted. We 
could not visit all of its thirty or more chambers, 
our time being necessarily so limited, but the 
excavation known as Dante's Inferno deserves 
especial mention for the little imps and satyrs of 
Satanic suggestion are as delicate as an ivory 
carving. The vegetable garden near by is a fruit- 


ful one, abounding in carrots, turnips, beets, and 
sweet potatoes natural enough to eat. One aisle 
of exceeding beauty was encrusted on its ceiling 
and sides with exquisite coral fret-work and floral 
crystallizations whose finely cut petals our kindly 
guide revealed more distinctly by a magnesium 
light. Strange trick of nature to expend such 
lavish workmanship within this dark recess, 
hidden so long from every eye. Our chaperon 
will never know what a rare pleasure he conferred 
upon us, or how deeply we appreciate it, and as wc 
can never return such favor to him, we will pass it 
on to his neighbor at every opportunity. 

The motto on Denver's escutcheon should read 
"Thrift, thrift, Horatio!" for this spirit of busi- 
ness enterprise, of energetic push permeates the 
very air. It is a wonderful city when one remem- 
bers its rapid growth, its present wealth and pros- 
perity. Yet nowhere is there any evidence of 
hasty formation, there is no sham veneering. 
Great attention has been devoted to the building 
of substantial structures, Denver profiting per- 
haps by the lessons wide-spread conflagrations in 
sister cities have taught her. Even the beautiful 
dwellings and villas are all of brick or stone, a 
wooden house of any description being difficult to 
find. Denver's Court House and the Capitol, 
now in process of erection, are among the finest 


buildings in the country. The Trinity (M. E.) 
church, the largest house of worship, is a beautiful 
edifice, it has a magnificent organ and possesses 
also the innovation of private boxes on the gallery 
floor, which theatrical suggestion grates a little 
unpleasantly when seen in a house of worship 
until we learn they are intended for the use of 
invalids, who can thus recline while listening to 
the sermon. Fine residences creep out on to the 
prairie almost outside the city limits, surrounded 
by green lawns, with the occasional addition of a 
snow-ball bush, this shrub seeming to comprise 
Denver's sole floricultural idea. It is a flowerless 
city and seems especially so with California's 
gardens still in mind, but remembering the effort 
of which even the lawns are the fruit, recalhng 
from what sterile soil the place has been so 
recently evolved, we wait confidently for the next 
chapter in the city's record, when art and adorn- 
ment receive the same attention given to com- 
mercial prosperity. 

The second day of our stay in Denver is devoted 
to a trip to Silver Plume including a descent if de- 
sired into the mine, a dark, damp, drippy, disa- 
greeable place where silver is not lying around 
loose as some had supposed, though veinings of 
the ore are shown. Lunch is partaken at George- 
town, a pretty place not quite above the clouds, 
and the mountain scenery which surrounds it, as 


well as the entire ride through Clear Creek Canon, 
where the track makes a complete loop and paral- 
lels itself many times, is among the grandest yet 

This detour is our last, and for the first time we 
feel as if we had started for home. We spend the 
entire next day crossing the broad verdant prai- 
ries of Nebraska, reaching Omaha at sunset and 
its sister city on the hither side of the Missouri — 
Council Bluffs — a few moments later. Iowa is 
not skirted in darkness, for we chance to en- 
counter a severe electric storm, which happened 
to be travelling in the same direction we were tak- 
ing, and so kept us company the entire night, with 
incessant flashes, the roar of heaven's artillery, and 
the patter of descending torrents upon the car- 
roof. The goblins of the air were all abroad in 
wildest mood that night. We were glad to be a 
passenger rather than the engineer, whose ex- 
ceeding vigilance and caution we could plainly 
sense as he felt his way onward. We heard on 
the morrow of several narrow escapes ; the ex- 
press train following us had encroached a little 
too closely on our time, a cloud burst washed 
away a long stretch of track which we had just 
passed over, but the providence which never 
faileth justified our perfect trust in its pro- 

The sight of the broad bosom of the Father of 


Waters when the radiant morning dawned, moved 
our party to sing 

" One wide river, 
One more river to cross," 

and recalled the child's query why the Father of 
Waters should not be called Mister-sippi. Soon, 
with surprise we note how like New England 
becomes the type of scenery in Illinois. Even the 
embankments beside the road bristle with wild 
columbine and have shady groves for background. 
We are speeding now as the comet flies, approach- 
ing Chicago no nearer than Blue Island Junction, 
dashing across a section of Indiana, losing Michi- 
gan and most of Canada in the night, and pausing 
only to take breath for a long day at Niagara. 

Will this marvel of the world seem disappoint- 
ing to us, we wonder, do we remember it correctly, 
will it have shrunken in comparison with the 
grandeur we have recently witnessed.? Ah no! 
Niagara is forever a fresh surprise, it is like 
nothing else but its own marvellous, stupendous 
self. A recent storm has muddied the Falls and 
only the sharpest curve of the horse-shoe bend 
retains that shimmering, translucent, impossible 
green. The river will work itself clear again in a 
day or two ; meanwhile it gave new effects of lace 
fret-work and sparkling frost-like garniture over 
the contrasting foam-beaten brown. The immense, 
incredible volume of water that pours over this 



irregular brink can only be appreciated from the 
river's lower floor, or at the slight elevation pro- 
vided by the little steamer Maid of the Mist, 
which at a safe distance allows the visitor, clad in 
w§.ter-proof garments, to view the marvellous spec- 
tacle. To think of a Republic that contains a 
Niagara, a Yo Semite, and a California ! God 
bless her! 

Our last night en route is bounded by Buffalo and 
North Adams. Only three hours lie between us 
and Boston, only the insignificant little state of 
Massachusetts to cross, her longest way, to be sure, 
but such a trifle in comparison with the continent. 
But where have we seen a fairer state, where lovelier 
rural scenes in this rarest month of all the year — 
fresh, leafy June t Graceful New England elms 
are swaying green pennons across village streets, 
brooding over time-honored homesteads, or shad- 
ing pleasant door-yards ; broad, generous barns 
hold the stored wealth of these fertile farms ; white 
spired churches point heavenward, surrounded by 
plentiful little graveyards (so seldom seen in newer 
countries) ; soon we reach the Deerfield river ; the 
broad Connecticut ; modest Wachusett, home-like 
and dear, though humble ; lovely woods in sprucest 
foliage with brand new floor-cloth of curling ferns 
and violets blue ; how beautiful it all is, how rap- 
idly the revolving wheels carry us nearer, still 
nearer home. 



And now the " Home agains " and " Home, 
sweet homes " have all been sung, the good byes 
and friendly wishes have been exchanged, for dear 
old Boston is in sight and excitement reigns. 
How unchanged it seems ; how unconscious it 
looks of our long absence or the importance of our 
return. We begrudge the customary pause at the 
draw-bridge, while we devour the familiar piers, 
the ships that are imprisoned here, we look over 
to other bridges that span this tidal Charles, and 
ride on towards the Fitchburg's wide open doors, 
pass under its octagonal grey towers, and like John 

" Nor stop till where we did get up 
We do again get down." 

The same irregular crooked streets, the same 
narrow pavements where we jostle everybody's el- 
bows, and try to go both sides of the people we 
meet. But bless us, how clean they all are ! 
What immaculate linen ; what spotless mozcchoirs! 
The company we have kept for the last day or two 
has prepared us for nothing like this. The Ray- 
mond lingerie must be a little off-color. 

But how sincerely we pity the people who have 
not been to California. We often wonder that 
those who travel habitually turn always to the Old 
world, before gaining any acquaintance with the 
New ; why cross a stormy ocean, a boisterous 
channel, and foreign countries by rail and dili- 


gence to see — Mount Blanc, for instance, when 
there are wonderful Alps and Apennines at our 
own doors waiting to be interviewed ; and where 
in all Europe are there waterfalls to be compared 
with our own beautiful cataracts and cascades ? 
Then there are the stay-at-home people who can 
afford to travel and do not, those who are satisfied 
that their own little hamlet is a good enough place 
to live in ; to such we would respectfully suggest 
that they can never view their own surroundings 
correctly until the same are seen through the pros- 
pective of distance. Only snails and turtles carry 
their shells on their backs. A word of advice also 
to those who think they cannot afford such seem- 
ing luxury ; viz : resolve you will travel and that 
determination will put forces into action which will 
eventually project the desired result. You become 
a magnet to attract the opportunity. Meanwhile, 
economize to this end. Wear last year's hat an- 
other season, turn your dresses inside out, upside 
down — anything for the glory which shall be re- 
vealed to you, anything to give your soul this priv- 
ilege of widening its borders, of building ** statelier 
chambers," enriching its store of present knowl- 
edge, and future accumulation of blessed memo- 
ries. Money invested in that bank never suffers 
default, it pays perennial interest at compound 
rates, and saves your sons-in-law the trouble of 
spending the fruits of your life-long toil. 



If you want to be happy, healthy and wise, if you 
want to polish down the sharp angles of narrow 
selfish interests or morbid slant, if you want to grow 
into the image and likeness of the Creator of this 
beautiful world, which in all its glory is but a 
shadow of the real Home of the Soul, then — travel ! 


All Traveling Expenses Inclnded. 



the: pacific coast. 

taining library and reading room, barber shop, and bath room) used on transcon- 
tinental journeys. 

Parties leave Boston, New York, and Philadelphia each year during the 
month of 

SEJPTEMBEK— For The Xellowstone Xational Psirb, The 
Pacific Xorthwest and California, with visits to St. Paul, Minneapolis. 
Tacoma, Seattle, Pnget Sound, The Columbia River, San Francisco, and all the 
principal points of interest in Central and ISouthern California, with a 
return via Las Yegas Hot Springs, Kansas City, Niagara Falls, etc. 

OCTOBER TOURS to The Pacific Coast via The North- 
ern Pacific Route and The Pacific Xorthwest, and also via Chi- 
cago, Kansas City, and The Atchison, Topeka ct Santa Ee Route through Kan- 
sas, Xew Mexico, and A.rizona. 

Both the September and October trips oifer the opportunity of making an 
Aittumn Excursion to California, and a sojt)urn throughout the winter in South- 
ern or Central California. 


To the health and pleasure resorts of Southern and Central California. 
A Choice of TWO ROUTES for the westward journey, and FOUR ROUTES 

Visits in California to Redlands, San Bernardino, Riverside, San Diego, and 
the magnificent Hotel Del Coronado, Los Angeles, Ihe elegant Raymond Hotel at 
East Pasadena, Redondo Beach, Santa Barbara, San Francisco, San Jose. Santa 
Cruz, the beautiful Hotel Del Monte at Monterey, Mount Hamilton, San Rafael, 
and other points of interest. 

Independent Tickets covering every expense both going and returning, 
and giving entire freedom of movement while in California, and also in making 
the homeward journey, can be supplied; also hotel coupons for board for long or 
short sojourns at the principal hotels in Southern and Central California. 


All Traveling £xi>eii!-ie!!i Iiioliided. 

Sprli Trip to California and Coiorado, 


A Tour of Sixty-two I>a,ys Aerosiis the Continent, with visits 
to the most picturesque Regions of the Rocky :Mountains,inchiding the grand canons 
and gorges of Colorado, The Marshall Pass, Manitou and Glenwood Springs,' etc. ; 
also to the most attractive Points on the Pacific Coast, including Redlands, River- 
side, San Diego, Los Angeles, Pasadena, Redondo Eeach, Santa Barbara, San Fran- 
cisco, Santa Cruz, Monterey, San Jose, the Summit of Mount Hamilton, San 
Rrtfael, etc. Different routes going and returning, with numerous side trips and 
halts by the way. The journey made in a magnificent train of Vestibuled 
Pullman Palace C^ars, with Pullman Palace Dining-Car. 

Caliiornia and tlie Pac ific Nortliwest, 

Annual Spring Tour Across the Continent and through the 
Pacific Northwest, with visits to Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, Califor- 
nia, the ]Mount Shasta Region, Oregon, Washington, the Picturesque Columbia 
River, Puget Sound, IJritish Columbia, Idaho, ^Montana, North Dakota, Minne- 
sota, and The Yellowstone iWational Park. A magnificent train of 
Veslibnled I'ullinan I'alace Cars, including Pullman Palace Dining-Cars. 

A GrrantI Excursion of Seventy-Five ]>ays. 


Parties leave Boston, New York, and Philadelphia in «Janiiary, Feb- 
ruary, and March of each year for an extended tour through Old Mexico, 
with visits to its chief cities and places of historic aiul pictui-esque interest, 
including Zacatecas, Aguas CaJientes, Leon, Silao, (iuanajuato, Queretaro, 
Toluca, Orizaba, Puebla, the Pyramid of Cholula, Tlaxcala, Guadalajara, Chi- 
huahua, the grand scenic points on the Mexican Railway, and the City of 

The January and February Excursions make a subsequent trip through the 
most delightful regions of the Pacific Coast, and homeward through Utah, Colo- 
rado, and the Grand Canons, Gorges and Passes of the Rocky Mountains, with 
visits to Riverside, San Diego, Coronado Beach, Redondo Beach, Pasadena, Los 
Angeles, Santa Barbara, Monterey, Santa Ch'uz, San Jose, San Rafael, San Fran- 
cisco, Salt Lake City, Manitou Springs, Denver, Niagara Falls, etc. 

Tickets can also be supplied for the return from California via the Mount 
Shasta Route to Portland, Or., The Columbia River, Puget Sound, Tacoma. 
Seattle, and the Northern Pacific Route, including The Yellowstone National 

The March Excursion is A Orand Tour of Forty I>ay» 
tlirough the Southern States and 3i;exico, omitting California, and 
returning via New Mexico, including a visit to Las Vegas Hot Springs. 

All Mexico parties are limited in numbers, and travel in A'/pr/^/w^ Trains of 
PaUiiiaii Vestibuled Palace Cars, ivitli P nil man Palace Dining-Cars and Com- 
posite Cars (barber shop, bathroom, lilji-ary, etc.). Special train schedules every- 
where, so as to take in the most picturesque scenery by daylight. 


All Xfi»voliii}E Kxpoiises 1iii'lii«le4l. 


I.eavinK San Francisco in February. 





Trips te pepubAR eastern resorts. 

During the months of July, August. September and October there are a 
series of excursions to the leading mountain, river, lake, seashore, aiul sprilig 
resorts of New Kngland, Canada, New York, rennsylvania, Maryland, and Vir- 
ginia, with visits to the ^Vhite ^louutains of New Ilanipshire, Adirondack Moun- 
tains of New York. Ulue Uidge of Maryland, Hudson Kiver. St. Lawrence lUver 
and Rapids, Sagnenay River, :Montreal. Qnebee. Saratoga, Lake George. Lake 
Chaniplain. Lake Placid, Lake Memphremagog, 3Ioosehead Lake, Bras d'Or Lakes, 
Cape Breton Island. :Mauch Chunk. ^Vatkins CUen, Niagara Falls. Trenton Falls. 
The Thousand Islands. Ausable Chasm, Isles of Shoals, Mount Desert. New 
Brunswick. I'rince Edward's Island. Nova Scotia, Old Orchard Beach. Tlie Battle- 
rield of Ciettysburg, Blue Mountain House. Old Point Comfort. Natural Bridge 
of Virginia, Luray Caverns, Harper's Ferry, Richmond, Washington, etc. 

Send for descriptive circulars designating trips desired. 



PHILADELPHIA OFFICE: 111 SOUTH NINTH ST. (under Continental Hotel). 
CHICAGO OFFICE: 103 SOUTH CLARK ST., cor. Washington Street. 


LONDON OFFICE: 142 STRAND, W. C. henry gaze 4 son, 
European Agents for Raymond's American Kxcursions. 


For Southern California, Charles C. Haroixc, 138 South Si)ring 
Street, Los Anjieles. Thk Raymond, East Pasadena. 

Lios Angeles Office, 138 South Sprinti- Street, F. \V. Thompson., A<ient. 

San Francisco Offices, 2G .Montp)Uiory Street, Room G, Cakuoll 
lIiTciiiNs, Anient; and also 36 Montgomery Street (cor. Sutter St.), 
Clinton Jones, Agent. 

Portland (Or.) Office, 83 First Street, Charles Kennedy, Agent. 

C 310 88 





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