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Storyland to Sunset Seas 






The a. H. Pugh printing Co., 


Copyright. 1895, by H. S. Kneedler. 




Chapter I.— A Parting Look at New Orleans— The River Scene, Quaint Life— 
The " Sunset Limited "— Ofif for the Pacific Coast— The Bayou des AUemands 
and its Traditions — Gibson and the Indian Mounds 7 

Chapter IL — Morgan City and its Peculiar Industries— Fort Star, Oneonta Park 
and the Baron Natili — Plantation Homes upon the Teche 21 

Chapter III.— The Great Salt Mine of Petit Anse— Its Geology and History— 
Where Tabasco Sauce is Made — The Islands of the Gulf Coast — The Prairie 
Home of the Acadians — An Ideal Home 27 

Chapter IV. — New Iberia and St. Martinsville— Ex-Lieutenant Governor 
Mouton and the Narrative of Early Acadian Occupancy — Glimpses of Life in 
the Bayou Region in the Early Part of the Century — A Land of Fertile Prom- 
ise, as the Settler has Discovered 37 

Chapter \'.— Traditions of La Fitte, the Pirate of the Gulf, that Adhere to the 
Region Traversed — Exploits about Lafayette and on the Mermentau and 
Calcasieu — Diggmg for Buried Treasure — Playing on Popular Credulity 41 

Chapter VI.— Crowley and Lake Charles — A Life Romance that Runs Back to 
the French Rebellion m Canada — The Thrifty City that has Grown up where 
once the Rio Hondo Claims Excited Interest — A Pioneer's Reminiscence — The 
Sulphur Mine 47 

Chapter VII. — In the Great Pine Districts of Western Louisiana and Eastern 
Texas — The Original Forests of the Continent — How the Lumber Interests 
have been Developed — The Emigration of an Industry 51 

Chapter VIII. — From the Texas Border to San Antonio — Sour. Lake — Thrifty 
Towns upon the Way — A Word About the Road You Travel Over — The Busy 
Commercial Center of Houston — The Colonel Relapses into Statistics 55 

Chapter IX. — San Antonio, the Gem City of the Southwest — Its Ancient 
Missions — The Alamo — In the Mexican Quarter — The Cuno Vender Appears — 
The Birth of the Opal 7. 61 

Chapter X— On to Devil's River — The Home of the Mocking Bird— The Land 
of Promise when Water is Used— The Arid Region of the Continent— Plant 
Life of the Plains — Sabinal and its Kaoline Deposits— Uvalde — Cline and its 
New Industry — Spofford, the Junction Point for Mexico 69 

Chapter XL— Del Rio and the Springs of San Felipi— FertiUty of the Soil 
Demonstrated — A Sulphur Water — Duval West's Hunting Story— Along the 
Banks of the Rio Grande, with Mexico in Sight — Devil's River— Santa Rosa 
Mountains— Rarity of the Atmosphere— The Old Stage Routes Across the 
Plains— The Great Pecos Bridge— A Girl's Intrepidity— The Fortitude of a 
Mexican Teamster 75 

Chapter XII.— Roy Bean and Langtry— " The Law West of the Pecos"'— Anec- 
dotes of an Erratic Jurist in Adapting Law to the Requirements of the Fron- 
tier : Divorces People, Fines Dead Men for Carrying Concealed Weapons, and 
Knows no Law that Makes it a Crime to Kill a Chinaman 8i 

Chapter XIII.— The Detectives of the Wilderness— Where Hold Ups used to 
Occur— Silver Mines— A Woman's Courage and Affection— Down the Le Sano 
Pass— Paisano. the Summit of the Sunset Route, elevation 5,082 feet — Sierra 
Blanca and the Howard Massacre 9' 




Chapter XIV. — El Paso and the Ancient Mexican Town of Ciudad Juarez— 
The Thrilhng Early Life of the Place — Crossing the Plains when the Apaches 
were Raiding— The Old Church and its Venerable Priest— The Smelter- 
Monuments on the National Boundary Line 99 

Chapter XV.— Across New Mexico — The Mirage— Possibilities and Wealth of 
the Territory — The Climate — Early Court Incident— The Spanish Discoverers 
— Deming — Through Stein's Pass into Arizona — Cochise's Head upon the 
Mountain Top— Cacti and its Uses — Benson, the Junction Point for Guaymas 
and Tombstone — Cieneta River Canon — Vails and its Bat Caves 107 

Chapter XVI. — Tucson and the Ancient Mission of San Xavier — A City with a 
Wild Past and Thrifty Present— Warm Valleys where Corn Tassels in a Month 
— The Imposing Church under the Shadow of the Rincon Mountains — The 
Indian School — Papago Reservation — Lost Civilizations of Arizona— The Casa 
Grande Ruins and the Vast Irrigating Canals — Maricopa, the Junction Point 
for Phoenix— The Painted Rocks of the Gila River — A Gila Monster — Lost 
Mines — Yuma and its History 115 

Chapter XVII. — First Glimpses of California — The Colorado Desert — Two Hun- 
dred and Sixty-three Feet Below Sea Level — Bubbling Mud Volcanoes — Salton 
and its Great Salt Sea — Nomads of the Desert— Indio, the Vidette of Verdure- 
clad California — San Gorgonio Pass — The Snow Peaks of San Jacinto and San 
Bernardino — Some Figures about California and a Bit of History — The Climate 
— Redlands — Riverside and San Bernardino — A Veteran Politician 129 

Chapter XVIII. — Los Angeles, its Flower-embowered Homes and Busy Com- 
mercial Life — Fremont's Ride to Monterey— Santa Monica and its Surf Bath- 
ing — Soldiers' Home and Ostrich Farms — Up the Great Incline Railway to Mt. 
Lowe — Pasadena— Port Los Angeles — San Pedro and the Fair Island of Santa 
Catalina — The Growler Feels Badly — An Ocean-hemmed Paradise 143 

Chapter XIX. — Up the Main Line Through the Tehachapi Pass and the San 
Joaquin Valley to San Francisco — The San Fernando Tunnel — How Banning 
Drove Over the Line — Saugus, the Junction Point for Santa Barbara — The 
Soledad Canon — A Bit of Mojave Desert — Wealth and Extent of the Great San 
Joaquin Valley— The Wild Flowers — Irrigation Canals and Lumber Flumes — 
Berenda and the Yosemite — First Glimpses of the Bays — Looking Out Through 
the Golden Gate 155 

Chapter XX. — San Francisco — The Story of a Great Capital's Growth Told in 
Brief — The Golden Gate Park— rBuffaloes and Grizzly — Seal Rocks and Sutro 
Heights — A Vision of Far Isles — An Inspection of the Curious Sights and Out- 
of-the-Way Places of Chinatown — The Stores, Artisans, Street Life, Opium 
Dens. Underground Dives, Theatre, Joss House and Restaurant— Pen Picture 
of a Sail About the Bay 167 

Chapter XXI. — On the Way to Portland and the Columbia River via the Shasta 
Route, with a Long " Side Trip" to Ogden and Salt Lake— The Valley of the 
Sacramento— Castle ICrags, Mossbrae Falls. Soda Springs— The Climb up the 
Mountain and the Vision of Shasta— Over the Siskiyous into Rogue River Val- 
ley — Portland — Across the Sierras — The Snow Sheds— Reno and the Truckee 
River— Sink of the Humboldt— Indians by the Way— Ogden— Salt Lake and 
its Sights 179 

Chapter XXII. — Down the Coast Line to Santa Barbara — Stanford University— 
The Santa Clara Valley— San Jose— Mt. Hamilton and the Lick Observatory- 
Over the Narrow Gauge to Santa Cruz — The Big Trees and San Lorenzo River 
Caiion— The City by the Sea— Monterey and the Great Del Monte— Its Won- 
derful Gardens and Drives— Paso del Robles and its Hot Springs— Over the San 
Lucia Range to San Luis Obispo — Pacific Coast Railway and Stage Ride— 
Pismo Beach— Santa Barbara and its Venerable Mission— Along the Surf Line 
to Saugus— And the Girl says "Yes" ^ 193 


MOST of us are egotists — and none more so than he whose pretense 
makes him a good listener. So all of us profess, in a general way, a 
knowledge of our own land. Yet few of us really do know any part of it 
well, and it is akin to vanity to put forth the claim. 

Now this modest brochure is the recital of some of those things which 
one may see and learn on a trip from New Orleans to the Pacific Coast over 
the lines of the Southern Pacific Company. Every traveler will note points 
of interest and learn many new facts appealing particularly to him which have 
been overlooked or ignored here. But when you grow critical, remember 
that the author was not writing merely for " our set," nor endeavoring to 
supply an encyclopedia. 

All this would be dreadfully dry reading if put in the form of prosaic 
narrative, so it has been told in dialogue to break the monotony, and the 
characters introduced have a purpose related to the facts which are sought 
to be brought out. Nor do the people go to bed at conventional hours, as 
in most well-regulated books of travel ; for if they did, the continuity of 
the narrative would be broken, and, like the Persian prince who travels on 
the enchanted carpet, you might miss much of interest while they slept. 

The description takes you where the road leads — from the quaint his- 
toric city of New Orleans through the bayou region of Louisiana, where 
summer Imgers and poetry is the hand-maiden of romance, across the sugar 
and rice and cotton country, into the cathedral aisles of the vast pine 
forests. Then beyond, where the great plains of Texas reach to far-off sky 
lines, through quaint towns and cities, where foreign speech and manners 
mingle with our Anglo-Saxon civilization. By the pillared Canon of the 
Rio Grande the way leads, and past the sepulchral cleft which the Pecos has 
worn in the bosom of the earth. On farther yet are the dim blue mount- 
ains and cacti-covered, tradition-fraught plains of New Mexico and Ari- 
zona ; the sand-girdled Gila and the implacable, mysterious Colorado that 
steadfastly rolls to its union with the California Gulf. Then comes the 
wonderland of the Pacific Coast — the jeweled, flower-begirt valleys and 
snow-clad peaks of California; the glint of azure skies and sapphire seas; 
of vine-clad hills and rose-embowered homes amid encircling groves of 
olive and of orange. Up the great San Joaquin Valley you go, and down 
the coast line, with many places of interest on the way to claim attention. 


There is a tour of San Francisco, with pen pictures of its points of interest ; 
a suggestion of the beauties to be seen on a run up the valley of the mad 
Sacramento ; close skirting Shasta's rugged sides ; the passage of the Sis- 
kiyous, down Rogue River Valley to Portland and the majestic Columbia. 
Then, too, the story takes you eastward beyond the Sierras, by Donner's 
Lake, the wild Truckee River, the mysterious sink of the Humboldt, and to 
Ogden and Salt Lake City, lying close by the Dead Sea of America. 

The temptation is to be discursive, because there is so much that appeals 
to one by reason of its novelty and charm. But if the writer had cultivated 
such microscopic fidelity, this book would have been expanded into many 
volumes, and you, my reader, would have put the work aside until the 
prospective leisure of old age afforded opportunity to read it. So, in spite 
of its shortcomings, the free-hand sketch is better for our uses, and if it 
shall serve the purpose of inducing you to widen your mental perspective 
by seeing those things it suggests and describes in the wonderland of our 
country, it shall have accomplished its purpose. And in that hope it goes 
forth with its message. 

The Author. 




THE Girl insisted on going out on the bow of They take a 
the boat. The Growler said something about ft'New\^riea 
the fresh spring breeze from the Gulf and possible 
twincres of rheumatism, but the Girl poohooed it. 

The Colonel struck his umbrella sharply 
on the deck and said, " Confound it, sir, 
you're out of the rheumatic latitudes now, 
sir," and we all went forward to get a 
last glimpse of the great yellow river, the 
ship-lined levees and the encircling 
city of the crescent. Spire and 
tower and frowning sugar refineries, 
implacable grain elevators and 
smoky oil mills, with their flanking 
of cotton sheds and blanket-like 
expanse of roofs beyond, great low- 
lying steamers and pennant-be- 
decked ships that made one's 
thought run to far off seas and j 

conjured up visions of busy spin- its exports and j 

. - imports are j 

dies in Lowell and Leeds and Man- more than | 

, 1 1 n r 1 ;,ooo per I 

Chester, where the fleece of southern annum. i 

fields is woven into snowy fabrics ; ! 

white river steamers that are the I 

STATUE OF GEN. JACKSON IN NEW ORLEANS. carrlcrs of commercc on many a ; 

thousand miles of swift river and placid bayou in the great Valley of the j 

AMssissippi ; brown-canvased luggers manned by brawny Italians who ply ; 

their trade as oyster-men and fishermen upon the gulf, dusky stevedores , j 

who, with weird song, lighten their labor and link the traditions of far-off j 

times in African jungles to the melody of to-day's toil as they roll corpulent I 

7 1 



The Girl grows 

The Growler's 
first growl. 

defense by the 

hogsheads of sugar or bulging bales of cotton-so the panorama of the 
city, with its harmonious and incongruous details, blended and softened by 
distance, was merged into one composite picture that grew softer and fainter 
as the great transfer boat crossed toward the Algiers shore. 

"Good-bve, old city," said the Girl, radiantly. "I love your quaint old 
streets and shops and piazza-befrilled French homes, and most of all your 
French opera and your rare abundance of summer goods, for," she added, 
pensively, "there is no place in the world where one can buy so many and 
such beautiful things for warm weather wear. Why, the organdies and 
muslins and dimities — " 

" It's a great pity we don't all wear petticoats," broke in the Growler, 

with dyspeptic irony. " For my 
part I can't imagine what 
there is to admire 


about the place. It's as poky as a village in Flanders, and it must be as 
hot as the tropics in the summer." 

"There you go again," replied the Colonel. " I don't want to bore you 
with statistics, but you have not seen as much of this old city as I have, nor 
studied it as closely. Why, confound it, sir, you find no end of fault with 
our English or Gallic cousins who come over to the United States, make a 
flying trip from New York to San Francisco, and go home in three months 
to write a book upon our social conditions. But here you are, after spend- 
ing three days in a very cursory inspection of the city, passing peremptory 
judgment upon it. You have only seen the surface, and mighty little of 


that Of course it gets warm in summer, but I can prove by any well- Not the same 

. , r -Ki ^^^ town. 

regulated thermometer that it don t get as hot as it does north of Mason 
and Dixon's line. It has nine months of the most delightful weather in the 
world, and when you are courting pneumonia every time you put your nose 
out of doors, the balm of its sunshine and the ozone of its breezes would 
mean prolonged life and health to you. The New Orleans you persistently 
keep in mind is the New Orleans you read about when you were a boy. How cities 
That city is fast disappearing — and confound it, sir, I'm more than half 
sorry it is, for it was a mighty good place in many respects. But now 
foreign capital is supplementing local wealth in building here the great 

modern metropolis justified by its loca- 
* ■* tion and commercial 



importance. Sites for great commercial centers are not deliberately chosen 
beforehand and cities built to order. 

"Thev are the unlooked for expansion of trade conditions, of which Thecityof 

-' ' • J 1 to-day IS up to 

their founders could ordinarily have no adequate conception, or are devel- date, 
oped by the necessities of a commerce which forced their location to some 
readily accessible distributing point. The New Orleans of your vision w^is 
a ragged town of hideously inadequate streets, dilapidated street cars 
drawn by deliberately moving mules, — a town where sanitary conditions 
were neglected, where business was carried on in a leisurely fashion, and 
people were content to do pretty much as their fathers and grandfathers 
had done. Hut the New Orleans of to-day has a couple of hundred miles 
of street paved with granite from the hills of New Hampshire and Massa- 
chusetts, it has a hundred and fifty miles of electric street railway, it will Audits , 

' -' commerce is 

soon have one of the most wonderful sewage systems in the world, and its out of sight, 
cleanliness is already ainjily i^rovided for. Its new hotels are thoroughly 



modern, as are its great shops. Its musical and dramatic interests are 
catered to by the best talent of the world. The homes that have spread with 
wonderful rapidity of late years over large areas to the westward have con- 
verted great districts into charming places of residence. Its business is 
with the whole world. The railways that radiate from it and the hundreds 
of steam and sailing craft that tie to its twelve miles of docks carry goods 
to its customers all over the great Mississippi Valley, and bring their 
wealth-producing raw products in to reship them to 
every seaport of importance in the world. Great 
as it has been in the past, it will be greater in 


But its future 
is its own. 

the future, for now it links with its traditions of chivalry and hospitality, 
and to the romance of its history, all the spirit and enterprise that modern 
methods and accumulating wealth hold forth as an incentive to progress in 
industry and comfort in living. It will be more potent in the years to come 
than it has been in the past, for it appeals both to the investor, the man of 
affairs who has the foresight to see its expanding opportunities for wealth- 
getting, and to the pleasure seeker of the North who flies to it to discover 
in its cosmopolitan life and Latin graces the relaxation he needs, and llnds 
here, too, the invigoration of a climate as seductive as the shores of the 
Mediterranean. Tired of the rigor of those merciless northern winters, the 
^vhy weofthe tourist will comc here in increasing numbers, to find in this delightful city, 
with its historic and romantic memories, or along the pine-fringed, island- 

North like it. 



off his pins. 

girdled gulf coast, the surcease from physical discomfort which a snow- 
mantled, blizzard-invested northern climate implies. \\'hy — " 

The Colonel had forgotten how closely the transfer had been getting to Almost shaken 
the Algiers shore while he talked, and just at this point, as its broad prow 
swung against the dock head, he was almost jostled off his feet. I steadied 
him and said : 

" I'm with you, in all you say, my dear Colonel, and you haven't put it a 
jot too strongly. It's the only city in the Union 
that isn't like every other city, and I 
hope that it will never get s< 
big or so modern 
that it will lose 
its distinctive 

1,\V ORLE.\NS. 

characteristics. If its French quarter is ever abolished and its old shops ukestheoid 
wiped out, its Cathedral modernized and its picturesque population smoothed 
and smothered by the process of assimilation, I'll stop running down here 
for a month every winter, and not even the gaiety and glamor of Mardi 
Gras shall tempt me." 

"Yes, you will," replied the Ciirl, emphatically; "you would keep on Ah! a tender 
coming just the same, and continue to bore us as usual by persistently 
singing the praises of its oysters and fish and gumbo." 

" Have no alarm," said the Growler, who seemed determined to have the 
last word ; " the charming results of assimilation will have no perceptible 
effect, young man, upon the characteristic elements of the population which 
you admire. In a hundred years from now your alleged picturesque darkey 




The pessimist 
refuses to be 

The "Sunset 
Limited " 
awaited them. 

For the first 
time the ladies 
have a loung- 
ing parlor of 
their own. 

will be as careless of to-morrow, and every whit as ragged and vocal, and 
your Italian fisherman will wear the same blue shirt and red bandanna, live 
on the same diet of claret and hard bread, and return to his beloved Italy 
with his savings, as he does now ; and if you are here at that time to prowl 

about your old shops and continue 
eaten hangings and cracked china, 
of attack by the same fleas that now 

The Colonel was about to reply, 
boat jostled into her berth, the 
our luggage and started for the 
awaiting to bear us toward the far 
at night. 

On the track, awaiting us, stood 
solid vestibuled train of Pullman 
ers the 2,489 miles between New 
seventy-five hours. "You must 
the world," the Colonel had said, 
length. Back of the massive, 
tion car — a baggage com 
bath-room and toilet acces 
in the center, and 
ing-room in the rear 
was in quartered oak, 
fawn-colored plush, 
invited to restfulness, 
desk equipped with all 
tempted one to pursue 
ence. Through the 


the lee monument in new 

to buy rickety old furniture, moth- 
I doubt not you will be the object 
voraciously await the unwary." 
but he didn't have time. The big 
gates were opened, we all seized 
train that seemed to be impatiently 
off sea where the sun goes to rest 

the splendid "Sunset Limited," the 

cars, which, in its swift flight, cov- 

Orleans and San Francisco in 

see the finest up-to-date train in 

and we walked through its entire 

restless engine was the combina- 

partment in front, barber shop, 

series with luxurious fittings 

smoking and loung- 

end. The woodwork 

the upholstering in 

Wide wicker chairs 

while a commodious 

epistolary accessories 

neglected correspond- 

vestibule we stepped 


into the Ladies' parlor, the whole width of the compartment car, the 
forward apartment of which was a commodious lounging-room for the use 
of ladies, who thus, for the first time on any railway, enjoy the same priv- 
ileges as the men. The windows at the sides are of plate glass, so generous 
in size that no part of the fleeting landscape is obscured. The great com- 
fortable chairs, like the hangings and curtains, were upholstered in slate- 
green plush ; the woodwork of the car was in rich vermilion wood, trop- 
ically soft and warm in its coloring. Seven drawing-rooms followed, each 
capable of occupancy singly or en suite; each complete in itself. In these 
the harmonious colors of the blue, olive and maroon plush harmonized 
with the mahogany, vermilion and curly walnut of the wood finish. Still 
beyond these were ample toilet-rooms. Then through two sumptuous ten- 
section slee])ing cars we went. Each of these had double drawing-rooms, 
together with snuiking compartments and toilet-rooms for gentlemen and 



saloon and toilets for ladies. The bodies of the cars were in vermilion 
wood and fawn-colored plush ; the drawing-rooms in red plush with white 
mahogany wood work. Last of all was the dining car in quartered oak, 
with individual chairs at the mahogany tables, potted plants in artistic 
alcoves, and a sheen of snowy linen, glistening silver and cut-glass every- 

"This train," said the Girl, with a little gasp of delight as she settled Theciri 

speaks her 

herself, "is certainly the exemplification of all that is the outgrowth of mind about the 
modern luxury. The Wilton carpets one treads, the artistic folds of the train, 
draperies, the satiny finish of rare woods, the polish of the brass and silver, 
the bevel of the plate glass windows — all the little things that satisfy one's 
esthetic sense as well as the greater that minister to one's comfort — from the 
harmony of color that i:)leases the eye to the menu that satisfies the palate. 




and the setting apart of a drawing-room that gratifies the vanity and minis- 
ters to the comfort of womankind — all contribute to the pleasure of the 
transcontinental tourist by the Sunset Route. And while you men are 
getting shaved in your wheeled barber shop or lounging in your smoking- 
room, we women now have a drawing-room all our own, wherein we can 
peruse a well-selected library, pursue our music, or write our letters on the 
daintiest of stationery furnished by the Southern Pacific Company at escri- 
toires so adjusted that the oscillation of the train cannot affect them. It's 



Settling for the 

an affluent home on wheels, that's what it is, and I predict the ladies will 
show their appreciation of the delicate compliment paid them." 

The wise traveler, with a long journey in prospect, settles himself in his 
car as soon after he gets into it as possible. Taking possession of his own 
berth, he disposes his belongings about him with a view to having available 
those in most demand. The Colonel, who sat with the Girl on the right, 
arranged his luggage as the porter brought it in. His walking stick and 
umbrella, his small traveling case with toilet accessories, and his corpulent 
leather grip were put out of the way. Then he laid a time table and a few 
pocket maps and a book or two carefully on the seat beside him. The Girl 
had tucked back a stray lock or two that the river breeze had playfully 
disengaged, adjusted her jaunty hat, smoothed out her gloves and composed 
herself bv the window. The Growler and 

He didn't need I had the 
much baggage 

then. seats oppo 


site, and when 
the train started the 
former was remark- 
ing that no one had 
any business to travel 
with as much luggage 

as I had, tho' there were only two grips, an umbrella, a portable camera, 
an overcoat and a few minor articles. 

" I've traveled across this country with nothing but a blanket, a rifle and 
a frying pan, before the railroad was built," he remarked. 

"You've added to your equipage of late years," I replied, glancing 
scornfully at the numerous satchels which now accompanied him. 

The long train was moving swiftly out of the yards, jnist the big shop 
with its oval front mantled in clinging ivy, jolting over switches and hurrying 



by long lines of freight cars. Now we catch a glimpse of the elevators, off for the 
the river with its double fringe of shipping, and the dark masses of the city 
beyond. The picture is but for a moment and the train rattles through 
Gretna, and in a little time is in a path cut through the great cypress for- 
ests. Here the foliage lu.xuriates and runs riot. The trees are draped in 
the long, silvery Spanish moss; vines twine like interminable serpents and The German 
swing from limb to limb; the ground is carpeted with a thousand shrubs. 
Now and again it opens into meadowy vistas where the succulent grasses 
seem to invite to fat pasturage. Presently the train is crossing a bridge, 
and to the right and left the windings of a deep waterway sinuously lead 
into the distance. There are overhanging trees and boats moored to the 
shore, and a darkey is pensively fishing. 

"The Bayou des Allemands," remarked the Growler. "I once met a 
most interesting character when I was exploring on this stream some years 


ago — old Felix Roux, an Acadian hunter and fisherman, a man who has 
lived his life close to Nature and as much away from the haunts of men as 
possible. He knows every voice of the forest and every denizen of the 
water, and is himself known throughout all this region. He has never had 
a photograph taken, and if you could get a shot at him with your camera it 
would be worth a hundred such things as you will snap it on." 

"■A very interesting region this, too," chimed in the Colonel; "we will premonitions 
soon be in the land of the .Acadians, and when we are I shall tell you of theAcadians. 
some I know." 

"Oh, I want to know all about them," said the Girl 

" I've re-read 



He calls 
a chestnut. 

The exploits 
of an early 
Napoleon of 

Evangeline specially in preparation for this part of the trip, and I want to 
learn all about those dear romantic people." 

"Heaven preserve us from that threadbare story!" said the Growler. 
" If ever there was a chestnut, that is. One can't mention the Acadians 
without having some one come naively to the fore with a quotation from 
Evangeline. Goodness knows, the people are interesting enough of them- 
selves, both in their historic past and quaint present, without lugging in 
that lachrymose fiction." 

"You're horrid — there isn't a particle of romance in your soul," replied 
the Girl. " If it hadn't 
been for EvangeHne I'd 
like to know who would 
ever have heard of the 

" To me," spoke 
the Colonel, "the 
Bavou d es 


A 1 1 e m a n d s 
recalls some- 
thing of 
early history. 
You may, 

perchance, remember that notorious scoundrel — that Napoleon of finance 
of the eighteenth century — John Law, the Scotch gambler, who, taking 
advantage of the depleted condition of the French treasury at the 
beginning of the reign of Louis XV, organized the Banque Royale, and, 
under the title of 'the Company of the West,' secured a concession to 
control all the trade of this vast Mississippi Valley. The Chevalier 
d'Arensbourg, who had been aide-de-camp to Charles XII of Sweden, 
and who had entered the French military service after the defeat of the 
Swedish king at Poltava, was sent to this country by Law in charge of 
some 230 families of colonists, principally from Alsace. When Law's 



schemes went to smash, aiul he tied from Paris one stormy December night bui they staid, 

- 1 , .. • 1 ■ TT- ■ 1 . ■ , .. , ami are here 

to nnd satety m exile in Venice, the emigrants were completely discouraged yet. 
and prepared to return home. But Bienville induced them to remain, and 

presented each 

family with a 
t r a c t of land 
fronting on the 
river above New 
Orleans. That 
part of the river 
is still known as 
'La Cote des 
Allemands' (the 
German Coast), 
and the generic a notable 

, family history. 

name has ex- 
tended to the 



bayou and to the other geographical features of the country." 

"And their descendants live hereabouts to this day?" I asked. 

"Scattered all through this section," replied the Colonel. "The Chevalier 
d'Arensbourg, who led them here, was the head of a large and honorable 
line of direct and collateral descendants, and some of the great families of 
Louisiana — like the Delhommer — trace their lineage directly back to him. He fails intoi 
It is an interesting fact, and one not generally known, that Mrs. Lincoln, mooc"'^'^^° 
the wife of Abraham Lincoln, was related to the family, her 
brother having married a direct descendent of the Chevalier." 

The Colonel continued to talk for some time about the 
old families of Louisiana, and as great sugar plantations, 
which now succeeded the cypress forests, were passed, almost 
each one seemed to recall to him some anecdote or historic 
incident or suggestive reminiscence which linked the lovingly 
dwelt-on past with the present. "The old places have 
changed hands," he said, " and new blood and new methods 
have come in with the new conditions which the war implied. 
But all this region of Southwest Louisiana is a fertile garden 
and in the near future every acre of it will be under tillage. 
Down along the border of the gulf between the Mississippi 
and the Sabine rivers there is perhaps five thousand square 
miles of sea marsh. It is largely subject to tidal overflow, is 
intersected by innumerable bayous and arms of the sea, and 
is covered with tall rank grass from which rise occasional islands The wonderful 

ri' iTi . !• 1T11 /. ,1, sweep of the 

of live oak. It is the sportsman s paradise, and jack there (the Colonel sea marsh. 




glanced at me affectionately) could find finer fishing than he ever dreamed where sport 
of elsewhere. Every variety of fish known to the gulf is to be caught, while han/fn ha^d 
bear and deer, ducks and geese are to be had in abundance. That Kansas 
man who bought a million acres of it at a single stroke, not long since, knew 
what he was about, and he didn't buy it for hunting purposes, either. It is 
one of the finest winter cattle ranges in the world. The soil is incredibly 
rich, made so by the decomposition of marine shells, dead fish and the salt 
overflows of the gulf. In the years to come the oyster, terrapin and shrimp 
industries will make the whole coast of incalculable value, and give profit- The same as 
able employment to thousands of men as it now does in Maryland and other ^nd'^uch^^ 

"Ah, those terrapin I" said tlie Growler, musingly, his face rela.xing into 
something like a smile. 

"Not the genuine diamond-backs'" I asked, incredulously. 

"The same," responded the Growler; "the genuine article, as you find 

them in the Delaware and 
Chesapeake. If we had time 


THK HKIUGK AUHOS?- Illl .\ 1 v H A 1- A I..A \ .\ Al M<lki..\.N <> 11 V 

to stop over at Morgan City you could sample some, for thousands are 
shipped from there annually. Besides, the Baron Natili has successfully 
propagated them in his artificial ponds near the depot." 

"We'll be there presently," said the Girl, who was consulting a map. 
" This is Gibson." 

"Gibson?" queried the Growler. " There are some remarkable Indian Remainsofa 
mounds near Fandel's saw mill over there. I don't know much about arch- Gibson, 
aeology, but Dr. Joseph Jones, of New Orleans, has matie an exhaustive 
study of them and finds them of great interest." 

"But look here, Colonel," I said ; "you were sidetracked ni your descrip- 
tion of this section of Louisiana ; there is not much sea inarsli to ht seen 
from here." 

"No, and you won't see any of it from the cars," replied the Colonel, 
"it lies off there to the south. The Southern Pacific line runs through a 
superbly fertile prairie country which, as you will see, deepens into great 



It isn't a desert pine forests Oil the western edge of the state. The farms are given over 
means^^'^"^ to sugar, cotton and rice, while corn, oats, potatoes, beans, etc., grow lux- 
uriantly, as do all the semi-tropic and temperate fruits. The resources of 
this country have attracted, of late years, thousands of settlers from the 
North, and tho' I have 


people have to 
work here too. 

traveled extensively among them, I have yet to find one who is dissatisfied 
or who would wish to return to his old home. No profitable crop grows 
here without labor — I haven't yet found the place where it does — but I 
believe the rewards of well directed industry are larger here, and the life of 
the agriculturist more endurable, than in any other place in the Missis- 
sippi Valley." 




COMIN' into J 

Morgan (jty. sah," said that prince of porters, John 

"So we are," remarked the Growler. "By the way. notice the old a Monument 
earthwork here on the left, just as we run into town. It is known as Fort °*^'*'^''"- 
Star, and it has a unique place in history. There have been more extensive 
and more important intrenchments — tho' this is by no means small or unin- 
teresting. Here, July 4, 1893, a great popular demonstration took place, 
the stars and stripes were run up on the old fort, saluted by the roar from 
ancient Confederate guns and by the Washington Artillery of New Orleans. 
That historic and honorable body performed a memorable deed that day, 
when, under command of its veteran Colonel, John B. Richardson, it rededi- 
cated the old fort to the age of peace." 

The Girl came over to our side to see the fort, which was but a hundred 
yards away — a star-shaped earthwork, the sloping walls rising thirtv feet 
above the level of the encompassing ground. 

The Southern Pacific Company restored the old works to their original a wt of history 

J... i..^! -^ 11^1 t T- and a touch ot 

condition some years ago, and mounted upon its walls the guns from rort seutiment. 
Chene, which was located eight miles away, at the junction of the bayous 
Boufe and Chene. 

To-day this is one of the few perfect relics of the great war. Built by 
the Federal forces early in the struggle, it was in 1863 garrisoned by 3,000 
infantry, mostly colored regiments. Late in that year Captain Blair, of the 
Eighteenth Louisiana, brought his forces across the river in sugar coolers, 
for want of better transports, attacked the town in the rear and captured 
it. The garrison took shelter on the gunboats in the river and escaped. 
The Confederates soon abandoned the place and the Federal forces occupied 
it until the close of the war. Then it was given over to decay until restored 
in "93, and dedicated to the age of peace by a touching ceremony of jxitri- 
otic purport. 

"What a beautiful little park," exclaimed the Girl, rapturously, still she likes one- 
looking out of the window on our side of the car. "and see the steamshijis 
and the river beyond." 

"The park," said the Growler, "is the creation of Baron Natili, who has 




Steamer line 
to the Texas 

Of course you 
recognize the 

charge of the Southern Pacific and Morgan line business at this point. 
The Colonel is an old personal friend of the Baron and can tell you stories 
about him by the hour. As to the park, it makes a spot of beauty in what 
was once a desert place, and is named 'Oneonta' in honor of the birth- 
place of the president of the system, C. P. Huntington. Over on the other 
side of the track is a zoological garden. The steamers you see at the 
wharf are those of the Morgan line, belonging to the Southern Pacific road, 
and running from here to Brownsville, Texas. Their fleet of river steamers 
and barges navigate the Teche and its affluents, and bring down huge 

River ancf Ber- 
wick Bay. 

quantities of sugar and cotton, and carry in return the supplies which the 
plantations consume. But let us go out on the platform for a few moments. 
There are a good many things worth seeing." 

When we alighted from the car we found the Colonel, who had preceded 
us, talking to a stout, handsome, gray-whiskered gentleman. They were 
too much engrossed with each other to notice us, and we strolled to the 
end of the platform. Before us was a splendid body of water sweeping 
majestically under the long iron railway bridge on its stately way to 
the gulf. 

"The Atchafalaya," said the Crowlcr, "which here so widens that it is 
called Berwick Ikiy. The river is something like half a mile wide and a 


hundred feet deep at this point. Thirty miles below it empties into the 
gulf. Nine miles above it receives the waters of the Teche." 

"What a beautiful plantation," said the Girl, looking up the river to a 
great white house embowered in trees and flanked by a huge sugar house 
and rows of white cabins in the "Quarters." 

"That is 'Fairview,' the home of J. N. Pharr," responded the Growler, some typical 
"and across here," lie continued, turning to look down the stream, "you Soraes.'°" 
can just catch a glimpse of another typical place, 'Avoca' — meaning, 'the 
meeting of the waters.' for it stands on a point where Bayou Chene enters 
Bayou Boufe. All about are lovely places worthy of this paradise. The 
roads here are waterways, to use a Hibernianism, for this whole section is 
intersected by an intricate system of bayous, — deep, narrow, navigable 
streams which are to the country what the canals are to Venice. It would The mystery of 

1 T • 1 1 1' 1 • • , ■ ■ 11 1 Ih*^ waterways. 

take a man a lifetune to learn all their sinuous combinations, and then there 
would be a iew left over that he had not discovered. Capt. T. L. Morse, 
who has command of the S. P. fleet here, comes about as near knowing 
them as any man that ever held a wheel." 

"Why, those great white banks I have been looking at are oyster 
shells," I said, pointing up to where huge white mounds marked the river 
front of the town. 

"Yes," replied the Growler, "millions of the finest oysters in the world they "shuck" 

' , , . , ^ , , . Ill 1 f-n, 1 the unresisting 

are annually shipped from the packing establishments here. T hese luggers bivau-e. 
tied to the bank are engaged in the trade. The bivalves are brought from 
inexhaustible beds out in the gulf, a sloop carrying from 125 to 250 barrels, 
which bring a dollar a barrel at the factories. It requires from a week to 
two weeks for the lugger to make a trip, and it is work that enlists a hardy 
set of men, for it is often hazardous as well as arduous. The fish industry Hut the 

, . ,1 1 •, '11 • ^1 ,.1 .. i" „»• bcwhiskered 

IS also an important one, tho it will surprise you to learn that veiy tew ot catfish is 

the splendid salt-water fish which could be taken here in infinite variety profitable, too. 

and abundance are in demand. The humble but toothsome catfish, caught 

in great quantities in Grand Lake, some thirty miles above, are shipped to 

consumers all over Te.xas, Kansas, Missouri, Louisiana and Arkansas. It is 

an interesting study for one to follow even so humble an occupation from 

its source to its conclusion — to see the primitive fishermen in their cabin 

boats on the lake hauling in their seines, the tugs of the dealers collecting 

from them the spoils of their endeavor and towing the fish down in 

huge floating crates, and finally to watch the expert dressers prepare them 

for shipment at the rate of one a minute. ' 

"Skin and dress a catfish in a minute?" I said, incredulously. 

"In a minute and less," replied the Growler ; "and these are not the 
sort of fish vou caught on your pin-hook when a bov, either. The darkey our colored 

'^ -' ' ." I 1 1 iv KiKtht-r IS at 

expert will seize a twenty-five-pound catfish, swing it up on a hook, lop olt home here. 



its fins, slip its skin off in three pieces, and have it disemboweled and its 
head and tail chopped off before the fish really knows what is the matter. 
There used to be another fiourishiny^ industry here in the collection and 
shipment of alligator hides, but the supply is pretty well exhausted and the 
demand is not now so great. At one time as many as thirty thousand 
hides were shipped from here annually. IJut there goes the l)ell, and we 
had better get back in our car." 

"Where's papa?" said the Girl, looking around. 

"Oh, he'll take care of himself," responded the Growler. 

In fact the Colonel and his friend were wringing each other's hands 
affectionately. "Take care of yourself," the Colonel shouted, as he swung 
himself on the step. "Good-bye, old boy, God bless you," the gray-whis- 
kered gentleman on the platform responded enthusiastically, waving his 

"A most royal gentleman," quoth the Colonel radiantly, as he sat down. 
"A man among a million — a scholar with the soul of 
an artist, the courtesy of a Chesterfield, of infinite wit 
and resource, and unfailing industry in setting the 
world a lesson of the best companionship." 

"Who was it. Colonel .'' " I asked. 

"Randolph Natili," was the response; "by unani- 
mous consent and deservedly dubbed 'The Baron,' 
who, for seventeen years, has had charge of the 
Morgan Line and Southern Pacific business at this 
point. Some time I'll tell you of the Baron's won- 
derful collection of Old Masters and the romance 
of discovery that attaches to some of his pictures, as, 
for instance, to that one known as the Venus Ana- 
dyomene by Domenico Feti, which was discovered in an Italian lodging- 
house in New Orleans, or that other, a Madonna, believed to have been the 
last one painted by Titian, on the order of Philip II of Spain, and long 
lost. And when I tell you of the pictures I'll not forget to tell you of 
some of the pranks the Baron has played, for the stories of his practical 
jokes would fill a book, and would be incredible if they were narrated 
of any one else than Randolph Natili. What would you think, for instance, 
of a man who could deceive the whole city of New Orleans by palming off 
a couple of Chinese laundrymen as court dignitaries from China, and 
holding a popular levee for them at the French Opera House, where 
a performance was stopped to give them a public reception ; or of a 
man who, on first meeting a lady in her home, would simulate a fit 
and fall in her arms, with apparently just enough consciousness left 
to gurgle an appeal for champagne, which was promptly administered, 

An affectionate 

Natili owns 
some pictures. 


But he will be 
.IS the practical 



A touch of jeal- 
ousy, perhaps. 

This is the way 
into the Teche 

Glimpses in 
the Land of 

You get it all in 
this way. 

or to do any of a hundred equally amusing things which I could recall 
from memory as the e.xploits of this man who is beloved by all 
who know him, who is equally at home in any of our great cities, and 
whose acquaintanceship belts the globe." 

" He's awfully nice looking," said the Girl. 

" He's a grandfather," replied the Growler, with a grim smile of satis- 

"So this is the way you go to get into the famous Teche," I remarked 
tentatively, to avoid a clash which seemed imminent between the Girl and 
the Growler. 

"The best way," replied the Colonel. "There are others but they are 
long and tedious. By this route a short ride of eighty miles from New 
Orleans brings one to Morgan City, where steamers can be taken and the 
trip made in a couple of days with every concomitant of comfort. Leaving 
out all the element of poetic romance, with which Longfellow has environed 
this waterway, it is one of the most enjoyable outings imaginable, and the 
tourist who fails to take it when he gets as far as New Orleans does himself 
a serious injustice. The Teche country is ' The Sugar Bowl ' of Louisiana. 
Past the beautiful old towns of Pattersonville, Franklin, Jeanerette, New 
Iberia and St. Martinville, it takes its way — a deep and narrow bayou — 
lined with splendid plantations, great manorial homes, quaint negro quar- 
ters, huge sugar houses. Here and there it is spanned with odd wooden 
bridges which are swung back by hand to give passage to the steamer. The 
live oaks almost meet overhead at times, and the boat brushes the foliage 
on the banks as it passes. Here and there wide cane fields stretch out as 
far as one can see, or vistas intervene where pensive cattle graze in wood- 
environed meadows. If your captain happens to be a man like Capt. R. H. 
Allen, a veteran in the service, he will invest every mile of the trip with 
interest by pointing out some feature of historic or romantic note, and the 
novelty and charm of the journey will be recalled with gusto for years to 



I WISH," said the Colonel meditatively, "we had time to drop off at xewiberiaand 
New Iberia and run over to the salt mine." the salt mine. 

" Never went through before without doing it," said the Growler. " Ah, 
there is your traditional Southern home — the best of its famous class — 
where wealth is the companion of culture, and hospitality is gilded by every 
refinement of good taste. Talk about your perfect places of abode — well, 
it is complete." 

" I have heard papa talk about it so often," said the Girl, " but it seemed 
so far away I never paid much attention to it ; now I want to know all 
about it." 

"You'll never know all about it until you go there," responded the 
Growler. " This is a case where words are inadequate to do the subject 

"Well, tell me about the salt mine, anyhow. Colonel," I ventured. 

"Avery's Island, or Petit Anse, meaning ' Little Goose,' as it was origin- PetitAnseand 
ally called," responded the Colonel, after some moments of thought, " is Isiands^*^ *^°^^* 
one of five so-called islands upon the gulf coast, south of New Iberia. 
They are not now islands in the present sense, but rather knolls that rise 
from the level of the surrounding marshes. On the other hand, they are 
indeed such, from the fact that they are surrounded by narrow bayous. 
Belle Isle, Cote Blanche, Weeks, and Jefferson's, or Orange Island, are the 
others of the group. Their geology is peculiar, but Avery's is the most 
remarkable of the five. I have its history from Capt. Dudley Avery, the 
present owner, whose family has held possession of it for three genera- 
tions. Under Spanish grants running back to 1765 it was originally par- 
celled out to a number of holders. After the early French voyageurs came Here's its 
the Acadians, and later the Spanish settlers from the Iberian peninsula. first°t?meand* 
On the abolition of slavery in New Jersey in the beginning of the century, source"^'"^' 
John C. Marsh, the grandfather of the present owner, came south with his 
slaves. He bought out John Hayes, who was the first actual settler, having 
located on the island in 1791, and Jesse McCall. Mr. Marsh at once began 
clearing up a plantation, for at that time the entire island was heavily 
wooded. Salt springs were known to e.xist before then, the discovery 




How the salt 
came to be first 

It's a 

thing to 
depend upon 
water as a 
beverage, you 
see ! 

having been made by John Hayes in 1795. At that time Hayes was a 
youth living with his mother, who was of Pennsylvania Dutch ancestry. 
Young Hayes made his discovery by accident. He had been out hunting, 
had killed a fine buck, and was carrying it home on his shoulders. The 
day was warm, and when he came to a clear, beautiful spring under a great 
oak, he threw the deer up in the forks of a tree and stooped to get a drink. 
He was chagrined to find the water intensely salt. When he reached 
home he told his mother of the incident. Now salt was a very scarce com- 
modity in those days, and the old lady shrewdly realized that the saline 
fluid might be made available for domestic use. She accordingly dis- 
patched the boy for a jug full of the water, boiled it down and obtained the 
salt. In this way the family continued to get their supply of the article. 
Mr. Marsh pursued the practice after he obtained possession, and during the 
War of 181 2-14 wells some twelve or sixteen feet deep were sunk and the 
water boiled. The planter continued this primitive practice until 1828, all 
the time clearing the land and cultivating sugar cane. In the year men- 
tioned the price of salt was so low and the difficulty of getting it to market 
from the island so great that it did not pay to manufacture it, and opera- 


tions were abandoned. The existence of the salt wells became almost a 
Saitwas worth tradition until 1861, when the price of salt was $11.00 a barrel in New 
money then Orleans. In December of that year John Avery, a brother of Capt. Avery, 
and then a youth of seventeen, asked his father to allow him to repair the 
old kettles and begin again the manufacture of salt. The request was wil- 
lingly granted, and the boy soon had his crude plant in operation. He was 
able to make ten barrels per day, and could sell it readily on the ground 
for $9.00 per barrel. The profits were tempting, and young Avery was 



fired with an ambition to increase his output. So he took the kettles from The ancient 
an old sugar house and set up a much larger plant. But he then discovered th^'front'ftl*' 
that his capacity was greater than the supply of brine; the flow of the moment, 
spring was not sufficient to keep the kettles going. At this juncture an old 
darkey, Bill Odell, who had been one of the original slaves brought by Mr. 
Marsh from New Jersey, and who lived until about 1892, came forward and 
related that there had once been another well, at the bottom of which a 
pork barrel had been sunk as a curbing. The well had been filled up years 
before, but Bill remembered the place and pointed it out. On digging at 

the spot the old barrel was discovered as 

the ancient slave had predicted, but the 

well was dry. Young Avery determined 

to go deeper in the hope 


of Striking the flow of water, and while so engaged, at a depth oi about The great 

^ ' o o T 1 deposit 

sixteen feet, one of the workmen reported that he had struck a stump that laid bare, 
covered the entire bottom of the well. Mr. Avery himself went down, and 
with a pick managed to dislodge a piece of the 'stump,' which, when he 
took it to the surface and washed it, proved to be pure rock salt; so pure, 
in fact, that all analysis show it to be ninety-eight per cent pure chloride 
of sodium. Various shafts were at once sunk in the neighborhood and the 
great mass of solid rock-salt uncovered ; the old process of evaporation 
was of course abandoned, and the mining of the article begun." 

"The discovery must have created somewhat of a sensation when salt 
was so scarce," I remarked. 



There were 
millions in 
sight, as Col. 
Sellers would 

It was a 
bonanza for the 

A big business 
boom was on 
at once. 

Had enough 
Slock on hand 
to start a paper 

The Federals 
make a call at 
the salt works. 

Some of the 
people who 
tackeled it. 

"It did," replied the Colonel; "it at once attracted the attention of the 
whole country as the South was in great need of salt, and as soon as the 
Confederate government heard of the find it dispatched a special agent. 
Major Broadwell, to the island, and he negotiated a contract with D. D. 
-Vvery, the father of the present owner, by which a certain part of the 
property was set aside to be worked by the Confederate government for the 
supply of the army. The several states were deeply interested, too, and 
Alabama, Georgia and Mississippi sent commissioners who made similar 
arrangements that their people might be provided for. A scene of great 
activity ensued. Many hundreds of men were at work, and at times as 
many as 500 wagons loaded with the product left the island in a day. 
Some of these ox-drawn wagons made long trips into Texas and northward, 
while a great deal of salt was hauled to the Atchafalaya river, thence 
shipped to Vicksburg by boat and from there distributed by rail. So great 
was the rush that all else on the island was abandoned. A magnificent 
crop of cane was left uncultivated and uncut in the fields. The price was 
fixed at $9.00 per barrel, gold basis, and remained at that until after the 
close of the war." 

" And what a bonanza that would have been if the owner had only 
demanded gold or turned his Confederate money into something of perma- 
nent value," said the Growler. 

"Unfortunately, he didn't," continued the Colonel, "and when the Con- 
federacy succumbed he had $3,000,000 of this worthless paper on hand. 
In .April, 1863, the Hebrews of Houston offered him a dollar in gold for 
each three dollars in paper, because they could use it for the purchase of 
cotton, but he unfortunately declined. Even 2,000 bales of cotton, which 
the Confederate government had given him in part payment, and which was 
stored on the Red River, was, through the complicity of dishonest officials, 
lost to him." 

" It's a wonder the Federals didn't try to capture the salt works," said 
the Girl. 

" They did," responded the Colonel. " When Banks moved up the Teche 
in 1863 he drove the Confederates out, and destroyed the salt works. A 
brigade was sent down from New Iberia for that purpose, but after they left 
repairs were instituted and the work went on. The process of getting out 
the salt at that time was entirely different than at the present ; the deposit 
would be uncovered over a space of thirty or forty feet square and the salt 
taken out of the bottom. Now shafts are sunk and galleries run as in any 
mine. In 1868 a St. Louis firm, Choteau & Price, took hold of the work. 
They sunk a shaft and opened the main galleries on the first or upper level. 
Later the American Salt Co., of New York, leased the property and worked 
the mine very extensively. They dug a canal through the marsh to the gulf 


and secured the twelve mile branch of the Southern Pacific, which had by 
that time been extended from Morgan City to New Iberia and beyond. 
Later, under a royalty, the present company, Myles & Bro., of New Orleans, 
control the output and operate the property." 

" But isn't the supply likely to be exhausted ?" 1 asked. 

"Not during your lifetime, young man," the Growler replied, with a Notukeiyto 
tinge of sarcasm. "The deposit is known to be half a mile square, and has s^'^*""*"""- 
been bored into to a depth of 1,200 feet without touching bottom. That's 
pure, solid salt. Let's figure." The Growler extracted a pencil from his 
pocket and looked about for something to " figure " on. I gave him a card. The Growler 
"The salt weighs 140 pounds to the cubic foot," he began. " Now suppo>e fancy°figuring. 
we say it is only 800 feet thick, tho' we know it to be half again as thick, 
and it may be a mile. But we'll take half a mile square and 800 feet deep." 
The Growler knit his brows and figured. "Give me another card." he said 
presently. I handed him one and he labored for a few minutes longer, then 
breathed a sigh of relief and said : 

"Well, on that basis we have 1,609,432,346 tons of salt in sight. Do you 
think there is any likelihood of its running short ? " 

I had nothing to say, but presently the Girl, who had been engaged in 
meditation for an unusually long period, remarked : 

"Well, what I want to know is how the salt got there." 

"Just what a lot of other curious people who are not content to accept The green- 
Nature's pranks and practical jokes as they find them, but must go poking fisfup^a stump, 
about to discover how the old dame played them, have been wanting to 
know," responded the Growler. " It's all guess work. But the most reason- 
able theory is that during the Eocene period, when a great sea stretched 
over all this region, the present mine was an enclosed lagoon. Through 
some process the salt water it contained was evaporated, the lake was again 
filled, again evaporated, and so on, each successive stage depositing a strata How the salt 
of salt, until the lagoon was filled. Then came a great overflow from the lueied'^at. 
northward which brought a deposit of soil and left it there like a big blanket 
over the salt. At some period there was a convulsion of Nature which 
crumpled the whole mass. There were probably successive overflows at 
long intervals of time, for there are evidences of prehistoric occupation, 
many of which are now among the treasures of the Smithsonian Institution. Prehistoric 
A basket, woven of rushes, was found fifteen feet below the surface, with a sau"too." ^ 
great oak growing over it. Successive stratas of broken pottery seem to 
show that perhaps prehistoric man reverted here during long ages to get 
salt. But the most interesting finds have been in the direction of animal 
life. Preserved by the proximity of the salt these relics are of inestimable 
value to the blue-goggled scientists, who have had all their preconceived 
and cob-webbed theories knocked into smithereens bv them. The fossil 



The sloth, the remains of the sloth and tapir were found on the island before it was known 
IrjJ-yein^pickie^ they had ever existed on this continent, Later, their remains were found on 
the Brazos. The skeleton of the mastodon was unearthed sixteen feet below 
the surface, and among the bones, preserved by the salt, were the masti- 
cated remains of his last meal — the succulent ends of cane, etc. Professor 
Marsh examined the jaw and teeth of the horse which were taken out at a 
It was the first similar depth, and pronounced, them as belonging to the Equus Fraternus, 
or ' Friendly horse,' closely resembling the equine as we know him to-day. 
And yet we have not even a tradition of the animal existing on this conti- 
nent prior to the Spanish invasion. Near the remains of the horse was found 
a hickory nut so perfectly 

of its kind. 

This is not a 
fish storj'. 

How it looks 
down in the 

preserved that it showed 
the marks of a squirrel's 
teeth as freshly cut as 
tho' he had but just 
dropped it from a 
tree-top." i 


" You are sure 
it wasn't a chest- 
nut, are you ?" I 
asked. But the 
Growler only looked at me scornfully and continued : 

"There is a deposit of lignite on the island eighteen feet thick, large 
beds of fine fire clay, kaoline in small quantities, and mineral salts are 
believed to exist, though as yet none have been found." 

"What does a salt mine look like, anyhow?" the Girl asked; "is it any- 
thing like a coal mine?" 

"I shall never forget my visit to the Avery's Island mine," the Colonel 
responded, meditatively. "The exploit was no less beautiful than novel. 
We were dropped down a shaft i8o feet deep. The first workings were loo 
feet below the surface, but have been abandoned, owing to the existence of 
surface water, due to a fracture of the roof while blasting, for dynamite is 
used to get the salt out. From the lower level great galleries radiate, of a 
uniform width of eighty feet and a height of sixty feet. For a quarter of 



a mile they stretch out in cavernous recesses like colossal ice caves. The 
walls glisten with a bluish radiance as the lights of the workmen fall upon 
them. Beneath one's feet the white salt crunches like frost. Far off in 
the black depths the ruildy tapers of the miners twinkle, and the figures 
dimly moving about are like those of gnomes busy with some supernatural 
task. It is weird and spectral. Suddenly a dozen sticks of dynamite are 
ignited, and a blue radiance lights up the abysmal caverns. The walls 
glow in a green sheen like the impalpable light of an arctic aurora. A 
million diamond-like crystals flash from roof and floor. It is all a colossal 
fairy scene, and infinitely more dazzling and superb and inspiring than any- 
thing the mind could conjure up. Then the lights go out, and the Pluto- 
nian darkness, with its occasional glint of cold blue color, and the flitting 
red lamps that glimmer grewsomely, move one with a touch of the spectral 

spirit of Dante and the weird 

legends of the Inferno. Vougo 

back to the surface to see 

A fairj' scene 
and the 
all in one. 


the salt crushed 
and sifted into 
grades, and to 
learn that the 
crystalized cubes 
that look like per- 
fect squares of 
transparent glass 

an inch on each angle, are used by the northern packers to cap the barrels 
of pork designed for export, and, indeed, to get a deal of useful information 
from all the courteous attendants." 

"What a wonderful place it is," said the Girl. 

"You haven't heard of half its wonders," replied the Growler. "The Thats where 

, they make 

pepperly Tabasco sauce which you find on tables all over the world, and Tabasco sauce, 
which those of us who eat soups and oysters regard as indispensable, is 
made on the island, and on the island only. It has a history quite as 
romantic as the sauce is ' hot.' " 



The Growler 
gives the youth 
a rap. 

"Give US the histon-," 1 said, "but spare us any more hickory nuts of 
the Eocene period." 

" If you do not know more at the end of this trip than you do at pres- 
ent," replied the Growler, with dignity, " it will not be my fault. The 
Tabasco pepper is a native of the state of that name in Mexico. It is as 
high tempered as are the natives of that region. In fact it is the very con- 
centration of all that is demoniacal in pepper. When our troops returned 
from the Mexican campaign, one of them, who was a friend of Mr. Mcll- 
henny, a member of the Avery family residing on the island, brought that 
gentleman some of these peppers. The plant was cultivated on the island 
for a number of years and the product employed simply for domestic use. 

Something of 
the histor5- of a 
famous sauce, 
now for the 
first time put 
in print. 

They are little, 
but, Oh, my ! 


Mansell White, a well-known gentleman of New Orleans, for a number of 
years made, for the use of himself and friends, a very fine sauce, the chief 
ingredients of which were bird's-eye and Chili peppers. At the close of the 
war this source of supply was cut off, and Mr. Mcllhenny began making 
what has come to be known as Tabasco sauce. He had been a refugee in 
Texas, and during his absence the cultivation of the pepper had been neg- 
lected and only a few wild plants had by chance survived in a neglected 
hedge where birds had dropped the seeds. Gradually as the fame of the 
sauce spread and the demand for it increased, Mr. Mcllhenny engaged in 
its manufacture commercially until now twenty-five acres are given over to 
its culture, and from 75,000 to 125,000 plants are set out. It requires much 
care and patience. The seed is sown in March, and the young shoots set 
out in April. They are protected from the early chill winds by spreading 
moss over them until strong enough to stand the weather. The picking 
begins early in September and lasts until the first killing frost." 

"Are they like our mangoes?" asked the Girl. 

" Not at all," replied the Growler ; " they are from half an inch to an 
inch long, very slender and very red. Besides they do not hang pendant 
on the branches of the plant, but stand upright as though conscious of their 
strength. After being picked when dead-ripe they are packed in barrels of 



stuff is made. 

Strong brine and can be kept indefinitely. When wa-ited fur use they are 
macerated, the mucilaginous pulp, which is pure pepper, is extracted and 
with the addition of a preservative is bottled ready for the market. The How the hot 
seeds and pulp which form the residue are ground up and sold as a flavor- 
ing condiment for soups. The sauce has won three gold medals — at New 
Orleans in '84, and at Chicago and Atlanta in '93. 

" Quite a place where the residents can find their own supplies of pepper 
and salt," I said. 

" And their own sugar and cotton, fruits, grains and vegetables," replied 


the Growler. "Where they raise their own beef and pork and mutton, kill 
deer and bear in their own cane brakes, and can catch the finest fish in 
abundance, or shoot wild ducks and geese and snipe by myriads with little 
effort. In fact it's an ideal place, reached by a half hour's ride over the 
great marshes. Then the land begins to grow higher ; oak covered iiills 
rise on either side of the track, the highest point reaching an altitude of 
180 feet. There are 3,000 acres of arable land besides I don't know how 
much timber. Picturesque valleys and miniature plateaus are surrounded 
or hemmed in by these billowy hills. The great oak trees have stood for 
hundreds of years bedecked with trailing veils of moss and the tendrils of 
wild vines. On the southeast side of the island is the sugar plantation and 
the home of Capt. Avery. On the southwestern edge, on an elevation of 
100 feet, the home of the other members of the family. The art and litera- 

Au independ- 
ent family of 



And the island 
is as near a 
paradise as we 
get them. 

The original 
home of the 

All of which 
arouses the 
enthusiasm of 
the Girl. 

ture of three generations of culture are gathered here, in a mansion where 
presidents, poets and statesmen have been guests. From its broad piazzas 
one can look off through the cathedral arches of the great trees to what 
seems is the very edge of the planet. To the south and west the salt 
marshes stretch in infinite expanse that rests the eye. Slender bayous like 
tangled strands interlace in a confused skein. Far out is a glimpse of 
azure where Vermilion Bay throws its arm about the marsh to woo it to 
the billowy gulf beyond. On the west 'Orange Island,' the home of Joseph 
Jefferson, rises like a blue mound from the sea of undulating marsh grass. 
To the west and north is the original home of the Acadians, those simple 
folk whose lives are prose, but whose history is poetry and pathos. On 
Grege, Carline, Vermilion and Petit Anse prairies, bounded by Avery's 
Island on the east, Vermilion on the west, and New Iberia on the north, 
are the descendants of those original settlers who fled before a military 
mandate from their Acadian homes on the far northeast coast and trans- 
planted to a sunny land the simple ways of thought and life they held a 
century ago." 

"Good, good," cried the Girl, clapping her hands ; "you're just lovely, if i 
you are a Growler, and you ought to write a book or a poem, or deliver a j 
lecture, or — or— something of that sort." J 



" T T ERE'S a thrifty town of the new school grown out of the old," said 
1 1 the Colonel, as the train drew up to the station at New Iberia. 
" It ought to be a good town, for it is in the center of the richest agricultural 
section in the world — the very heart of the sugar lands of Louisiana. 
From the depot to Bayou 'I'eche is only a few blocks. The town is built 
between these two arteries of its commerce. To all the characteristics of 
old time comfort it adds a stirring life of manufacture and trade. From 
here one can run down on the branch line to Abbeville a town, which com- 
bines an ancient air of (juaintness with much of 
modern thrift." 

" F5ut now that we are right in the land of the 
Acadians, I want to hear something about them," 
said the Girl. 

"And so do I," I chimed in, "about their past 
and their present." 

' \N'ell," said the Growler, "I'll let the Colonel 
do most of the talking, for he has seen more of 
them than I have, but before he begins I'll tell 
you of a very delightful interview 1 had with a 
splendid representative of the race the last time 
I went over the road. I refer to the Hon. C. H. 
Mouton, who was Lieutenant-Governor of Louisiana, 1S55-58. during the 
governorship of Robert C. Wickliff. Mr. Mouton, who is now nearly 
seventy-three years of age, lived at Lafayette, which was earlier called 
Vermilionville, until about twelve years ago, when he niov'ed to St. Mar- 
tinsville, where he now resides. He has practiced law for upwards of 
half a century. Imagine a tall, straight old gentleman, with clear-cut, 
intellectual face and bright gray eyes, and you have a picture of my subject. 
The vigor of his intellect has been in no wise impaired by the years that 
have come and gone. In talking with him of the Acadians Mr. Mouton 
said that among the original settlers of this section were the Moutons, 
Herberts, Duhons, Trahans, Le Blancs and Broussards. I recall that he 

also told me that in his family there was a tradition that the real name of 


New Iberia, 
125 miles from 
New Orleans. 



A bit of 





The Mouton 
family have a 
tradition of 
the real 


sons to the 

A prolific 

They traveled 
in this vp-ay 
before the days 
of "The Sunset 

And it was a 
slow process, 
too. as you can 
see by this. 

Longfellow's Evangeline was Emmeline Labiche, and that, as preserved in 
this legend, the story of her life corresponded in the main with the story 
of Longfellow's Evangeline. Mr. Mouton's maternal grandmother, whose 
name was Robichead, came to this section of Louisiana in 1765. Her 
journey from Acadia was not one a woman would be likely to take now- 
adays, for she came as far as Baltimore by vessel, and from there to New 
Orleans on foot. She married in the parish of St. Martin an ex-surgeon 
of the French army, named Bordea. They had three daughters; one of 
these married John Mouton, who became the father of the chivalrous 
Alexandre Mouton, United States Senator, and in 1S42 Governor of 
Louisiana; one married David Guidry, and one a man named Castille, and 
later, after his death, the heroic Colonel Alcibiades de Blanc, of St. Mar- 
tinsville, who became a distinguished Confederate commander, and after- 
wards served on the supreme bench of the state. Besides the John Mouton 
referred to, there was another brother, and from these two sprang the 
hundreds of Moutons who fill the Vermilionville country. As an evidence 
of the rapidity of the growth of the family, Mr. Mouton told me that he 
had himself fourteen children, and that when the widow of Edward 
Mouton died a few years ago, she was mourned by three living children 
and ninety-seven grandchildren. You will pardon this genealogical digres- 
sion. I have narrated it because it throws some light on one of the oldest 
and most numerous of the original Acadian families in all this part of 

" Now to give you a glimpse of life in those times as related to me by 
Mr. Mouton. All was wild prairie when his grandfather opened his store, 
for he was engaged in trade with the Choctaw Indians, who then filled the 
country. They were a peaceable race, and had not been spoiled by the 
white man's whisky as our present Indians have been. Once a year his 
grandfather would load a flatboat with peltries and other products, with 
flour and sausages and meats to provide them on the way, and with his 
family and his negro servants would voyage to New Orleans to replenish his 
stock and enjoy the diversions of the city. It was a trip that consumed a 
month or two, and was, of course, a great event in the domestic life. The 
traders who did business at what is now known as Washington, but which 
was then known by the less euphonious name of Niggertown, because of its 
large population of free colored people, had an even more arduous task to 
reach the city. Their flatboats went down the Bayou Court a Blanc, to the 
Atchafalaya River, from there to Butte a la Rose and into Grand River, 
and along that stream to Indian Village on Bayou Plaquemine. From 
Indian Village to the Mississippi it was nine miles against the current, and 
the boats were ' cordelled,' or drawn up by ropes from the craft to the bank. 
The rope would be fastened to a tree on the shore and the boat "drawn up 


to it, and the operation repeated again and again until the distance was 
covered. Sometimes a capstan was fixed on the boat and oxen used to 
draw it up. From the mouth of the bayou the boats were floated down on 
the broad bosom of the Mississippi to New Orleans. A round trip by this 
now almost forgotten route not infrequently consumed five and six months. 
Mr. Mouton also told me the family traditions of La Fitte, but I'll reserve 
that until later, and let the Colonel tell you more about the Acadians, 
because we will soon be out of their country, while we have La Fitte with 
us from the time we leave New Orleans until we get past Lake Charles, so 
he'll keep, you know." 

" How the Acadians were expelled from what we now know as Nova Acadian 
Scotia in 1755," said the Colonel, "is an old story. The more humanitarian not'enoughto 
thought of our day regards it as an act of tyranny and brutality. The con- ^^^'■>'>°"- 
science of that time could easily excuse it on the ground of military neces- 
sity, because, tho' the Acadians were practically English subjects, they per- 
sistently declined to take the oath of allegiance to the Crown, and were 
regarded as a perpetual menace to the perpetuity of the colony. However, 
under the governorship of Charles Lawrence, they were summarily deported 
after the confiscation of their estates, stock and garnered crops — the accu- 
mulations of a century and a half of industry. Scattered far and wide 
throughout the American colonies, many of them made their way to Louisi- Thevknewa 
ana, to be under the protection of France. But in this they were dis- IThentheysaw 
appointed, for Spain had but just acquired control. However, they were 
kindly received and provided for. They settled in what is now St. James 
parish and scattered largely through the Attakapas country, populating 
most generally what are the present parishes of St. Landry, Acadia, Vermil- 
ion, Lafayette, St. Martin and Iberia. Here they live to-day much as their 
forefathers lived on the Basin of Minas and the Prairie of Grand Pre. Their simple 

,.,^ ,1 • 1 iTr 1 1," 1- wavs of living 

U 1th a few notable exceptions, they are indifferent to the appeals of ambi- and homely 

tion and to the allurements of affluence. Their homes are simple cottages, 

very plainly furnished with the bare necessities of living. Their fare is 

frugal in the extreme. Among the masses education is neglected. The 

Acadian French, with the Creole patois, is their language. They marry at a 

very early age and set up housekeeping in a modest cot, where the absence 

of furniture is soon made up by a numerous progeny. Honest, industrious 

as needs be to supply their own simple necessities, and religious to a 

degree, they have few wants ami fewer cares, and if their women do most 

of the work, the men are kept rea^^onably busy rolling cigarettes for their 

own consumption. They preserve but one industry peculiar to themselves. 

and this is in the weaving of cottonades from the nankeen cotton which The primitive 

they grow. The fiber of this nankeen cotton is of a brownish golden color, peculiar to the 

Woven by the women upon hand-looms in their own homes, a durable and p^°p ^' 



Didn't know- 
how to make 
the most of 

At this 
juncture a 
came in. 

Average vahie 
of products to 
the acre, S20. 

pleasing fabric is produced in a variety of patterns. Up to the time of the 
Exposition of 1884 in New Orleans the industry was in a state of decadence, 
but Mrs. Sarah Avery Leeds, who took an active interest in the preserva- 
tion of the handicraft and the welfare of the simple people, devoted herself 
to encouraging the humble workers, and through the agency of the Chris- 
tian Woman's Exchange of New Orleans directed attention to and found a 
market for their wares. The people might all have been possessed of 
wealth had they been reasonably industrious and acquisitive. They took 
possession of a paradise, and for a hundred years and more were content to 
find a frugal living. A few years ago the adventurous northerner, restless 
and discouraged by the severity of his climate, came and looked at the 
country. S. L. Gary, who came down to Jennings from Iowa, saw all its 
possibilities and began telling the world of them. He found the land could 
be bought for a dollar or two an acre. The natives lassoed long-horned 
cattle, shot razor-backed hogs, planted the same seed over and over again, 
and were serene in the enjoyment of what a couple of acres poorly cultivated 
would produce. The northerner was discouraged by what the natives said 
of the country, for they averred he'd starve. Nevertheless he pinned his 
faith to Gary, came and brought his relatives and friends, and now they 
own, populate and make productive some hundreds of thousands of acres. 
He found a fertile soil awaiting intelligent treatment. There were no 
stumps or stones to test his patience. He could get good water at from 
ten to twenty feet through clay. Bermuda and Japanese clover grew to 
perfection. Sugar cane yields twenty tons to the acre, rice ten barrels, 
worth $3.00 per barrel. Hardy vegetables, like radishes, turnips, lettuce 
and cabbage, grow all winter. Figs and oranges thrive and are profitable. 
Poultry and stock are at home. With an average altitude of say seventy- 
five feet, an evenly distributed rainfall of fifty-five inches, a death rate the 
lowest of any of the states (8 to the 1000), and an immunity from a score of 
diseases the northerner dreads, it is no wonder that thousands of northern 
people have come and are annually coming to Southwest Louisiana, and 
supplanting by magnificent estates the limited and poorly cultivated 
'patches' of the Acadian. There are homes here for the millions who in 
the East and North are looking about for opportunity to better their condi- 
tion, and, thank goodness, they are beginning to realize it." 





VERY waterway we cross and all the bayous and harbors on the where 

traditions of 

gulf coast to the south of us, from Barataria Bay to the Sabine the piratical 
River, are redolent with traditions of La Fitte, the pirate of the gulf," said 
the Colonel. " 1"he Mermentau, which we cross just beyond Crowley, and 


the Calcasieu, at Lake Charles, are peculiarly fraught with local legends of 
the freebooter's presence, and whether he ever visited them or not, their 
banks have been liberally dug up by the treasure-seeker, and the stt)ries of 
his visitations are cherished with wonderful tenacity." 

" And more unwarranted fiction of the yellows-backed variety has been 
written ab<nit La Fitte than any other character that we have ever had in 
evidence," remarked the Growler, savagely. 

"The more I come to know of La Fitte the more respect I have for The pirate had 
him," replied the Colonel. "Of course I don't admire his character, but," 
he added, musingly, "he had his good points. It seems a pity that history 
should cruelly rob our cherished pirate of so many of the ferocious charac- 


his good points 


teristics that appealed to our youtuful but sanguinary imagination. Instead 
of being the rollicking and reckless sailor we pictured him, he was merely a 
shrewd blacksmith, doing business in the early part of the century at a little 
shop on Bourbon street in New Orleans. The unsettled condition of the 
Where the times in which he flourished made his subsequent career possible. FoUow- 

freebooter got . , . . ^ . . ,_,..,„ -,^ jr.-L 

in his fine mg the cession of Louisiana to the United States, France and bpain became 
embroiled in war. Then the United States of Colombia declared their 
independence of Spain. In the first of these struggles privateers commis- 
sioned by the French authorities at Martinique and Guadalupe swarmed 
upon the gulf and Caribbean Sea to prey upon the Spanish commerce. 
Colombia took its cue from this example, and invited privateers to outfit at 
Carthagena and sail under her flag for the same purpose. A surprising 
number of excellent people who esteemed themselves eminently respectable 
Avhen the engaged in this very profitable industry. The line between the privateers- 

hadtowaikThe man and the pirate is necessarily an elusive one, for with a little practice 
plank. ^^^ former finds it extremely difficult to distinguish between the vessel 

which is his legitimate prey and the rich merchantman of any other nation- 
ality. Jean La Fitte, the blacksmith, became one of the active and intelli- 
gent agents in New Orleans of the gulf privateersmen, for it was obviously 
important that, after capturing a vessel laden with goods, its cargo should 
be disposed of to achieve the rewards of their industry. By degrees he 
acquired influence and eminence among them, until in 1813-14 we find him 
the undisputed leader, with a fortified post on Barataria Bay, a large fleet, 
hundreds of men under his command, and an organization so complete that 
Butfiuaiiythey its ramifications extended all over the country. In spite of the protests of 
|ave a i e ^^^ reputable citizens of New Orleans, and of repeated efforts to bring him 
to justice, it was not until 1814 that an expedition dislodged him, captured 
and confiscated the accumulated plunder and effectually scattered the 
band, and this final demolition of the coterie grew out of La Fitte's indig- 
nant rejection of the overtures of the English who sought to enlist his aid 
in their descent on the country, and which overtures he communicated to 
the state authorities, at the same time protesting his loyalty to the govern- 
ment and denying the charges of piracy brought against him. But if La ' 
Fitte was not the bold freebooter we used to believe him, there was cer- 
tainlv enough of piracy connected with the men of his fleet and the opera- 
tions of his vessels to stock every bay and bayou with traditions that will for centuries to come." 
A brisk "And that they were slavers, too, I have no doubt," added the Growler, , 

bra^ck1:?rgoes. " for Ex-Lieut. (iovernor Mouton. of whom I told you, related to me incidents j 
in the experience of his own family which go to prove it. La Fitte was often ', 
reported to l)e at the mouth of tlic Mermentau, and vessels of his fleet 
ascended the river and disjiosed of slaves to the planters. Mr.- Mouton's ■ 




father had owned two slaves bought in this way. One time when hunting 
in the canebrake not more than two miles from the present site of Lafay- 
ette, the elder Mouton had been startled by a wild clamor among the hounds 
ahead of him. Spurring his horse through the brush he came upon a party 
of twenty slaves, men and women, in charge of one of the pirates named 
Gamble. They were absolutely without clothing and terribly frightened by 
the uproar of the dogs. At another time, in the same vicinity, (iambie was 
taking a party of slaves northward in the winter time. He had them in an 
ox cart, and they had no protection from the weather, were naked ami 
almost starved. One night there was a heavy frost and several of the 
unfortunate blacks died from the unwonted inclemency of the weather. 
The penalty on slaving was so heavy that the 
greatest caution was exercised in disposing of 
the Africans, and a purchaser never really knew 
of whom he bought his slave. The Mermentau 
and Calcasieu rivers were favorite retreats for 
the slaver, but once when Gamble ran his 
schooner into the Nezpiguie, he had to sink it 
to avoid capture, and one can still pick up on 
the spot, iron pots, broken crockery, and other 
relics of the destroyed vessel. Mr. Mouton had 
(jften heard his father and other older men talk 
of meeting 'Gamble,' 'Paul Clustine,' 'Corse,' 
'Triest,' and others of the lieutenants of La 
Fitte. I was interested in Mr. Mouton's telling 
me that he had owned one of these original 
slaves so brought in, and he described his 
character as being very admirable. He said 
that the idea of whipping him had never sug- 
gested itself to any one, and that it was no unusual thing for the black to 
'take the stick' to the white children when they offended him." 

"And did La Fitte really bury any of his treasure about here?" asked 
the Girl. 

" I should not like to invest much on the strength of such a speculation," 
replied the Growler, "tho' there are plenty of people who are satisfied that 
pots of gold are planted indiscriminately along the gulf coast and its trib- 
utary bayous. I don't believe La Fitte buried any, or he would have taken 
it with him when he sailed away in 1817 to find a place of refuge. If he 
did take it it is lost, for the noted privateer and his vessel went down in a 
terrible storm. However, the gulf coast has been pretty well explored antl 
excavated, and people still have a try at it from time to time. Fitful lights 
glow on the banks of these bayous at night, and mysterious parties go forth 

Slaves in the 
cane where 
now is. 

It was a 
business that 

niLI. ODKH,, 

The old darkey 
stood on his 

Hunting for La 
Fitte's buried 



These are the 
fellows who 
buy gold 
bricks and 
buck the three- 
man, too. 

He had $700.00 
worth of faith. 

But these 
fellows really 
made a haul. 


their industry. 

Slaves were 
cheap, but 
monej- was 

with time-Stained charts to seelc treasure trove. The most barefaced impos- 
tures are practiced on the innocent, too. I remember an incident that 
occurred near Crowley. Not long since an affable fellow visited the farm 
of a rich and intelligent settler who lived on the Bayou Queue de Tortue, 
near there. He had a divining-rod that would invariably and remorselessly 
point to hidden gold ; and he confidentially gave the farmer the address of 
the party in Denver who made and sold them for $700.00. Of course he 
had made a fortune in a short time by its use. The gullible agriculturist 
engaged him to look for La Fitte's treasure, first testing the power of the 
rod bv burying in the garden a lot of jewelry belonging to his wife, while 
the man with the divining-rod was in the house. The fellow with the rod 
went right to the spot, a feat of divination doubtless due to successful 
peeping through some convenient crack or window. Then the search for 
the piratical treasure began. After several days the rod began to ' work '. 
At this juncture the 'diviner' suddenly announced that he had to leave. 
The farmer 'laid out,' as he described it, in the woods for a week, fully 
convinced that the rod had located a barrel of gold, and that its owner 
proposed to return by stealth and appropriate it. This project the farmer 
determined to thwart, and as he said ' he'd kill that 'ere feller ef he tried to 
rob him.' Then he came into Crowley, mortgaged his place for $700.00, 
and sent the cash to Denver to get a divining-rod." 

" And did he get it ? " I asked. 

"Oh, yes." replied the Growler; "but I haven't heard that he has found 
anything with it yet," 

" There is one place where I believe treasure has been found," chimed in 
the Colonel, " and that is on the Calcasieu below Lake Charles. There is 
living in that flourishing town a very old and very intelligent man by the 
name of Jacob Ryan, whose present home looks out over the beautiful little 
lake. He came to Calcasieu Parish in 181 7, when he was a child of one 
year, his father settling at Rose Bluff, twelve miles below the present site of 
the town. There were few settlers in the country then, and those few were 
Acadians engaged in raising stock. All the country belonged to the parish 
of St. Landry. The people were poor and money was scarce. Taxes were 
a sixteenth of one per cent, with low rates of valuation. Directly after 
Mr. Ryan's father moved to this place the United States gunboat Bull Dog, 
Captain Ferrygood, came into the river and lay there a long time, so that 
the pirates had no chance. Before that a good deal of traffic was carried 
on in slaves and contraband goods, but Ryan, to whom I have talked, scoffs 
at the idea that La Fitte ever made it much of a headquarters. There was 
little market for the slaves brought in by the slavers, and they were taken 
through to the Red River country where the planters had more means. 
The slaves sold for from $250.00 to $300.00. But this was a gaod deal of 



money to a man who could only get $10.00 for a cow and calf, or $1 2.00 for a 
steer. .Still some were bought by people there, and at least one of these yet 
lives, known as Guinea Nigger Thomp.son. .Some of the settlers also received 
slaves in payment for service in helping to run the darkies through. Hut 
the search for the La Fitte treasure began early and has lasted ever since. 
In 1830 two men, Moore and Queen, were reported to have found three 
thousand doubloons in an old iron pot on Keogh's Island. They reached The lucky 
there on a small schooner which they hired from its owner, a man named [heiTfinTon 
Kelsey, and he sailed it for them. They worked according to the directions *''*^ ^'^'<^"s*«"- 
of a chart which they possessed. Kelsey helped them a little in their dig- 
ging, but one day they sent him to the garrison at Lake Charles to get some 
supplies. When he returneil with the schooner they came on board with 
two corpulent saddle-bags so heavy that they could 

scarcely lift them. They 
then told Kelsey they 


had determined to abandon the search, and on arrival at Lake Charles hired Found 
Louis Reon and James Pithon to take them to Opelusas. Pithon and Reon silence the 
noticed the heavy saddle-bags. Both Moore and Queen came back several tr^easure^'^'° 
weeks later, spent the remainder of their days in Lake Charles,, lived in '"" '"^■ 
idleness and always seemed to have plenty of money. Neither of them 
ever revealed the source of their wealth or the result of their search. Queen 
died of yellow fever some years afterwards, and Moore was blown up in a 
steamboat explosion while returning from a visit to a brother in Kentucky." 

" But how did the gold get there ? " I asked. 

"Mr. Ryan said it was hidden by a party of pirates who were chased Howthegoid 
into the river by a government cutter in 181 2 or '13. The water was too 
shallow for the cutter to follow ttie light draft schooner and she stood off 
the entrance ; after a council the ])irates buried the treasure and attempted 
to slip past the cutter, one demurred and elected to take his chances in the 

got there. 



marsh. After the schooner sailed he stood on the shore and watched the 
cutter overtake and sink her, and every man captured was hung to the yard- 
Became a good arm. The pirate, lucky enough to consider discretion and the swamp the 
deathbed and better part of valor, made his way to New Orleans, was taken ill and before 

gave the thing 

away. __ , ,- _,^ - -. 


dying gave a chart of the place to Moore and Queen for a consideration 
sufficient to make his last hours comfortable. Now Ryan is a hard-headed 
old fellow not given to illusions, and while he says he has never been able 
to trace down any other discoveries, he believes that in this case the find 
was genuine." 



WELL, thi 
"For, 1 

this section is certainly one redolent of romance," I said. Aiisortsot 
between the pathos and tragedy of French and Spanish stock, 
exploration and settlement, the story of the Acadians, the melodramatic 
career of La Fitte and his followers, and the chivalrous exploits of the 
people on many occasions, it would be difficult to find a locality of more 
graphic interest." 

*' While the stories of exploits of great bodies of men fill a larger place 
in the eyes of the world, I have always had a fondness for the extraordi- 
nary in family history and the tragedy of individual careers," replied the 
Growler; "and you can often find the capacity for noble deeds and stirring 
action under the most unassuming exterior. There could be no romance 
of greater interest nor any more dramatic recital penned than the stories 
that could be culled from the family histories of this section of Louisiana. 
For instance, here is Crowley, which we have passed while we talked. 
From here the Eunice branch runs northward through a section of wonder- 
ful beauty and fertility, which invites the settler by every promise that can 
appeal to his ambition or his comfort. Crowley is a new town, built up crowiey, a 
since 1887 by the remarkable enterprise of the Duson Brothers. The land class of 
was then worth from $1.00 to $4.00 per acre. They laid out the place, 
built a big schoolhouse, got people to come there, secured the county seat, 
and now they have a flourishing town and the land is worth $30.00 an acre. 
Their career shows the wonderful influence of great personal enterprise, 
and their family history embalms one of those remarkable romances I have 
spoken about. Their father, Cornelius Duson, as he was known in Louisi- Thtsiorj-ot 
ana, was born at Point Levis, on the St. Lawrence River, in Canada, in 1S19. 
He was the youngest of a family of six sons, and the only one who, when 
the French rose against the English in 1837, sided with the rebels. 
Through the influence of a lifelong companion, S. Lombert, young Duson, 
as we will call him, joined the French revolutionists. This caused a dis- 
agreement with his family, and he left home saying they would never hear 
of him again until the grass was growing on his grave. With a party of 
nine other patriots he started up the Ottawa River to enlist the woodmen 
and trappers in the cause, but the whole party fell into the hands of the 


a patriot. 



The jailer 
don't indulge 

taken by a party of English soldiers, 
them killed, others recaptured, but Duson, 
wounded in the thigh 
ball, managed to 
pursuers, hid 


English. Duson escaped, but the others were imprisoned at Ottawa. Our 
hero determined to effect their release, and took up his residence in the 
town, cultivated the acquaintance of the turnkey, and sought to get him 
intoxicated. Failing in this, the jailor's suspicions were aroused, and he 
ordered young Duson to leave the jail. With a pretense of complying the 
enough to lose youthful revolutionist picked his hat up off the floor, and with it a stick of 
IS wits. wood, with which he felled the jailor, took his keys, released the imprisoned 

patriots^ and all started to cross the river at Kingston. They were over- 

s o m e of 
thou g h 
by a rifle- 
elude h i s 
_.. ■ '.V^- in the hut 

< , "^r of a wood- 

man until 
well enough 
to travel, and then made 
his way to Boston, finally 
settling on the Mermen- 
tau River in the parish of St. 

"The English offered a reward 

for his capture, dead or alive, but 

in peaceful security he married, 

reared his family and amassed a 

competence. He told his family 

many incidents of his early life, of 

his people and friends in far-off 

Canada, but he never told them that 

the name of Duson was not his real name. It was evident that he intended 

Never revealed to reseive this revelation until his last hour, but the opportunity for making 

his name. ° the confcssion never came, as death overtook him suddenly and while away 

from home in 1857. In 1884 his two elder sons, C. C. and W. W. Duson, 

made a visit to Canada, and hunted out the places of which their father had 

so often spoken. They could find no one who remembered him. At last 

they searched out the aged companion of his youth, S. Lombert, but he said 

he had never known any one by the name of Duson. The visitors insisted, 

and related the incidents of their parent's childhood, his association with 

Lombert, and gave the Christian names of their father's brothers. Then the 

The ancient feeble old man burst into tears, and rising to his feet with an eft'ort exclaimed, 

thefact.^*^^ ^ * No. no, I scc it all now. Your name is not Duson, but McNaughton. 

Let me lead you t(j your people.' .\nd thus the family was reunited and 



the fact brought to light that the youth who had cast his fortunes with the 
French cause, though he was of Scotch- Irish stock, had changed his name, 
and for twenty years had maintained his secret and kept tu the letter the 
vow that his family should not hear of him until the grass grew on his grave." 

The Colonel and the Growler retired to the smoking compartment for a 
time. The Girl was engrossed with a magazine, and I looked out of the 
window at the wide prairies that open out to the horizon, dotted with com- 
fortable looking homes, and fringed with blue masses of trees which mark Thepraine 
with cypress, hickory, ash. oak and gum, the margins of the bayous. The s^!!thw^t 
landscape recalls that of Northwest Iowa, or of Minnesota, with the possi- 
ble difference that it is much better wooded. Presently great pine trees 
began to appear, growing more dense as the train sped on until the wide 
forest stretched on either hand and we could look off through cool 
vistas of green as through the pillared colonnades of some great temple 
whose fretted arches let in the sifted sunlight, and through whose airy roof 
the mocking birds and finches fluttered with a revelry of song and color. 

As the train ran into a station where the air was vocal with the urgent 
appeals of hackmen, and where every indication pointed to the activities of a 
flourishing city, the Colonel and the Growler returned, and the former said : Lakecharies, 

"This is Lake Charles — the best town on the road between New Orleans pJoplelikc^'o 
and Houston. It is essentially a northern city, with a population of some 
7,000 people. Well built, with plenty of enterprise, fine stores and business 
blocks, an ideal climate and every accessory to add comfort to living, it is 
no wonder it is growing rapidly, and that people like to come here. Its 
location on one of the most beautiful lakes in the country — a body of clear 
deep water, two and a half miles long and about as wide, through which 
flows the Calcasieu River on its way to the gulf — is admirable. The river 
from the lake to the gulf is broad and deep, affording uninterrupted navi- 
gation, and the present Government improvements to the harbor at its 
mouth will make it a splendid anchorage for craft of any draft. Lake 
Charles is the capital of a parish which is as large as the State of Delaware 
or the Kingdom of Denmark. The accomplishments of its people are The 
marvelous when one recalls that as late as the declaration of independence of threescore 
bv Texas, both Mexico' and the United States laid claim to the territory ^'^^" 
lying between the Calcasieu — or Hondo, as it was then called — and the 
Sabine River. The settlers who came here were given titles to 640 acres. 
Up to as late as twenty years ago these claims, called Rio Hondo claims, 
could sometimes be bought for a few dollars. The lake, and later the town, 
were named for Charles Sallier. a Swiss, who settled there in 1S16. The 
early settlers were a social and law-abiding class, who thought nothing of 
visiting a neighbor or going to a dance twenty miles away. .Marriage cere- 
monies were at first regarded as lu.xuries because at that time it was a 



Pioneering had journev of loo miles to Opclousas where a license could be procured. The 
its^pieasures, ^^j.^.^^ ^^ley raised were driven through the swamps to New Orleans. But in 
spite of these pioneer discouragements the population mcreased, and 
to-day the people look back with pride upon the achievements of the past." 
As the train drew away from the station, skirted the head of the lake, 
and plunged into the pine woods beyond, the Growler said : 
" The sulphur mine is but ten miles beyond." 
"What sulphur mine?" asked the Girl. 
"There is a very remarkable deposit of sulphur at the point indicated," 


The sulphur was the reply. " Petroleum of an excellent quality for lubricating purposes 
fieids^^^™'^"'" has been struck at the same place. The oil region extends over some 
200,000 acres, and on the coast, thirty miles from the sulphur borings, it is 
poured out upon the gulf waters in quantities sufficient to cover several 
square miles. The sulphur strata is sixty feet in thickness, but it was long 
protected by several beds of quicksand overlying it. In vain fortunes were 
spent trying to sink shafts for the purpose of reaching and mining the 
product. But at last the Standard Oil i)eople purchased the property, and 
sent down an expert, who drove a tubing into the strata, and by pumping 
down water is enabled to pump the mineral up. As far back as 1820 the 
settlers knew of the existence of petroleum, and they resorted to the places 
where it oozed from the ground as a black and pasty mass to gather it, 
tho' their only use for it was to grease the axles of their wagons and to 
protect their implements froni rust." 

Early known 
but little used 



LVKE CHARLES, Louisiana, and Beaumont, Texas, are the eastern and Lumber 
^ western boundaries of the denser of those great pine districts which southwestern 
fringe the Calcasieu, Sabine, Neches and Trinity rivers. The Southern EasteirT*^" 
Pacific runs through this splendid timber belt for a distance which may be ^"^' 
appro.ximately set down as two hundred and fifty miles, and at the towns 
named and others, the tourist catches a glimpse of the great mills which 
annually transform rough logs into hundreds of millions of feet of mer- 
chantable lumber. At no other points in the world are the operatioiLs con- 
ducted upon a vaster scale. The capacity of the great mills is fabulous, 
their machinerv is of the latest design, and with a single circular they often 
cut from 100,000 to 120,000 feet per day. Two hundred varieties of valu- 
able timber are at their disposal, tho' the yellow pine is by far the most 

" Did you ever go into a large modern sawmill? " the Growler asked me. 

I replied in the negative, and he said : 

" It is a sight you would not be likely to forget. Rafted down from ihe xhe way they 
the place where it is cut, the great logs lie in booms, a chain drags them '^" "'^ °^^' 
into the mill, where steel fingers toss them on a sliding table. With incon- 
ceivable rapidity they are thrown backward and forward against the great 
circular saw which goes through them as tho' they were so much butter. 
The three or four colored experts, who stand on this platform and operate 
the levers that control the log, work like demons and look like them, as 
thev are dashed to and fro through the cloud of sawdust. The roar of the 
machinery, the terrible gnawing of the saw, the mad plunging of the log. 
all make up a scene of indescribable interest, and unconsciously one's 
thoughts are directed to the innumerable processes by which the needs of 
civilized man are ministered to." 

When the train stopped at Orange a portlv gentleman boarded the car. rheUimber- 

'' 1 • J 1 '"311 boards 

The Colonel rose and greeted him as an old acquamtance, and introduced the train, 
him to the rest of us as Mr. Henry J. Lutcher. " Mr. Lutcher has been so 
closely identified with the development of the lumber interests here that he 
can tell us something that will be of interest, I know," said the Colonel, 



after that gentleman had explained that he was going over to Houston on a 
brief business trip. 

"If I did that, I should have to tell you my own experience," replied 
Mr. L. 

'• It will doubtless be instructive," the Colonel said. 

"Well," replied the lumber king of Orange, "up to the time I was six- Andsketches 

. , ^ , ^ , , . , . the Tiistorj' of a 

teen years of age Mame was the great source of supply for lumber m this great industry, 
country. Monopolies soon secured control of the output, for shrewd men 
came to realize its value. Then the Adirondacks were taken possession of, 
and later, in the early '50s, the timber on the Susquehanna and in the Alle- 
gheny region was levied upon. By ICS65, Williamsport. Pa., which was my 
home, had become the great 
lumber center of the country. 
I can recall 
the long 
trains of 
w a cr o n s 

that, carrying this product, went west by what was known as the 'Cherry 
Tree' route, across the headwaters of the Susquehanna. Then with cheap 
freights on the lakes Michigan became pre-eminently the source of supply. 
In 1S77 I had a mill at Williamsport, but recognized that to achieve any 
large measure of success one must have the advantage of cheap stumpage 
and profit by the increase of values." 

"And how was your attention directed to this then far-off point?" 
inquired the Growler. 

"Almost by chance, if not entirelv so," replied Mr. Lutcher. '* I was Likedrawing 

■ ' - ,, ... a prize in a 

talkmg the matter over one day with my parter, who fully agreed with me. lottery. 
'But where shall we go?' he asked. I happened to look down into the 
waste-basket which stood beside my desk, and my eye fell on the word 
'Texas' in a newspaper. I picked the sheet up, and it contained a map of 



Original forest 
of the 

Timber in this 
runs as high as 
30,000 feet to 
the acre. 

the Sabine River and a reference to its timber supply. At once the 
thought of putting up mills and wing dams on these streams struck me. 
Both my partner and I made a trip to Washington to consult the Texas 
congressmen, and Judge Ragan told us the finest timber on earth was 
in Eastern Texas. We came south early in 1877, found the railroad only 
■built as far east as Beaumont, took horses and spent five or six weeks in the 
great forests. We went up the western side of the Sabine and were 
delighted ; but when we crossed at Bird's Ferry and came down on the 
Louisiana side, we found the finest body of timber that I had ever seen. 
Later I looked upon what I believe was the original forest of this valley, on 
the Red River, in Cataboola and Wind parishes, where the trees were all 
three and one-half to four feet in diameter, but of so great an age that they 
were rotten at the heart. Of this Sabine River timber we bought great 
tracts at $1.25 an acre, but not until I instituted an investigation and 
found that the total Texas consumption of lumber was about 70,000,000 
feet, of which at least 40,000,000 feet was imported. The largest mill in 
the state had at that time a capacity of 10,000 feet per day. In the spring 
of that same year I landed with a mill which had a capacity of 100,000 feet 
per day, and put it up and begun operations in three months. People 
thought we were crazy, but," Mr. Lutcher added, with a smile, " we were 
not, and to-day ships leave the Sabine Pass carrying lumber to Europe and 
all South American countries." 




H.AT a funnv name for a station!" said the Girl, consulting a 
What is it ? " I asked. 
Sour Lake." 
It has the merit of being expressive," replied the Colonel. "Seven Heres the 

. • r- place for your 

miles off the line of the road, and connecting with trains by stage, is Sour complexion. 
Lake itself, so named because of the quality of its water and the soil upon 
its margin. The water and'mud baths here have wonderful curative prop- 
erties in cases of skin disease, and perhaps in other ailments. In the hands 
of parties who had the money and enterprise to provide more modern and 
adequate accommodations and better facilities for reaching the lake, it 
would develop into a noted health resort. At present it is not so widely 
known as its merits warrant, but it is destined to become a Mecca for cer- 
tain classes of invalids." 

From the Sabine to San Antonio there are a succession of thrifty towns 
which bespeak local prosperity and enterprise. The roadway itself is a 
delight to the tourist. Like the equipment of the trains and the service of 
the employes, it is a very near approach to perfection. There is in all the a modest word 

'^•'' ^ ^ ^ ^ . ..,-, about the road 

country no more superb roadbed than that which the trains of the Southern you travel over. 
Pacific traverse in their flight from the Crescent City to the Golden Gate. 
Ballasted with rock, the greatest attention has been bestowed upon the per- 
manence of its construction. The tourist may stand for hours upon the 
rear platform of the train, anywhere across the wide plains of Texas or 
Arizona, and see the same long, even, substantial line of rock ballast stretch- 
ing out behind, each stone apparently laid with scrupulous care. At regular 
intervals are attractive and commodious section-houses, neat in the glory of 
bright paint and immaculate whitewash, each with its trim garden plot about 
it and the refreshing green of near-by trees. At the station-houses bits of 
garden brighten the landscape, and the sunset symbol of the company is 
conspicuously wrought in stone to diversify some otherwise waste place. 

It was near Crosby, eighty-four miles west of the Louisiana line, that the 
battle of San Jacinto was fought April 12, 1836, and the independence of 
Texas practically secured. 




We all know that Texas is a big state. We have heard that since we 

toddled to school in early infancy. But we are apt to forget just how great 

an empire it is. Even when we recall that it is 800 miles from east to west, 

Just to give you and 750 north and south, it does not give us so clear an idea as to remember 

a faint idea of , . , ^ , .. . , . , . . _- 

the size of that either of these distances is almost equivalent to a journey from New 


York to Chicago, or from 
Orleans, or from 
to Salt Lake City, 
times as large as 
New York. It 
is two hundred 
and eleven 

Chicago to New 

San Francisco 

Texas is eleven 

the State of 


times the size of Rhode Island. It has four hundred and eleven miles of 
coast line ; its navigable rivers equal those of any other five states, and 
within the 265,780 square miles of its domain are 9,500 miles of railroad. 
The value of its agricultural and manufactured products reach the sum of 
$185,000,000, and it has a permanent school fund of $100,000,000. We 
think of it as an agricultural state, but it has vast deposits of coal, iron, 
copper, gypsum, rock salt, asphaltum, mica, granite and petroleum. The 
resources of its great forests are almost as inexhaustible as those of its rich 
soil, which affords the greatest diversity of crops in abundant reward to 
the farmer. 

When our party reached Houston we all got out at the big and bustling 



Station to look at the beautitul park and get a momentary msight mto the Houston, 362 

1- IT r ^u » " miles from 

busy hfe of the town. New Orleans. 

"This is, in my judgment, the future great city of this part of the 
country," said the (irowler. " Named for a man whose life history is as 
strange as the phantasies of a delirium, it has become the center of a sub- 
stantial and expanding commerce. Sam Houston was a brilliant and brave 
man. who had the distinction of being a renowned soldier, the governor of Named for the 

^ ^ ^ If , 1 T-> ■ 1 r m^ , • hero of San 

two States, a member of congress and the President of 1 exas when it jacmto. 
achieved its independence through the decisive blow which he struck in the 
battle of San Jacinto where he annihilated the Mexican army. The only 
blot upon his reputation — and whether that was one or not we can only 
guess — was his strange abandonment of his wife and career in Tennessee 
and his alliance with the Cherokee Indians. What , motives impelled 

him. or what crisis prompted to 
he never told, and perhaps we 
not guess." 

" At any rate a great and 
growing city has sprung 
up here in sixty years," 
replied the Colonel. 
"The fortv thousand 

so extreme an act 
had better 


people who live here a thrifty giant 

, . J among our 

to-day enjoy every ad- cities, 
vantage of municipal 
life. The pines that 
fringe it about are the 
western sentinels of 
the great forests we 
have been passing 
throuo-h. Wide reaches 


of primeval oak, in the somber drapery of the Spanish moss, are near at 
hand, interspersed with sycamore, pecan, hickory, ash and cypress. Here 
the magnolia grandiflora attains a luxuriance I know not of anywhere 
else. It is but forty miles by air line to the gulf, and the summer heats 
are cooled and winter chill dissipated by the equable breezes that blow 



from that great body of water. The city is at the head of tide- water on 
Buffalo Bayou, which has from ten to twenty-three feet of water between 
this point and the gulf. But, as the great railway center of the state, it is 
pre-eminent as a receiving and distributing depot, for eleven trunk lines 
enter here. I could 

give you some statis- 1 

tics which might be 
useful if you did not 
think them dry." 

" (iive us the statis- 
tics. Colonel," I said. 

•' But not too many, 
papa," the Girl adde 


"A woman rarely 
sees the advantage of 
figures," the Colonel 
commenced, referring 
to a little book he car- 
ried, "but they convey 
facts in a condensed 
way as no other form 
of statement possibly 
can. For instance, it is easy enough to announce that the climate of a TheCoionei 
particular place is equable, but it conveys a more rational impression when the'tempfation 
I say that the average temperature in Houston in summer is 80° and in fewg^i^res 
winter 60°. The actual valuation of property would probably be consider- 
ably above fifty millions of dollars. As a cotton market Houston outranks 
all the other cities of the Southwest, being exceeded only by New Orleans 
in point of receipts. Upon the floor of its cotton exchange can be found 
English, French and German dealers, as well as local buyers who represent 
foreign houses. The receipts of the staple are in excess of 400,000 bales 
per year. It will soon be a great rice center as well. Her lumber trade 
amounts to over $15,000,000 per annum, and the extent of her miscellaneous 
manufacturing can be understood when I say that there are about two 



But what she 
wanted to 
know was — 

hundred establishments, with a total invested capital exceeding $4,000,000 
and an output of over $7,000,000, and giving employment to more than 
5,000 employes. The great machine and car shops employ 2,000 men. The 
jobbing trade of the city reaches throughout the entire Southwest and is esti- 
mated at $30,000,000 a year. As a final summing up of these few random 
figures, I might say that the volume of business transacted in the local 
clearing house is about $250,000,000 per year." 

"Well," said the Girl, with a sigh of relief, "I'm glad you didn't go into 
the subject any more fully, and I don't remember a single one of your old 
totals. What I want to know is, what kind of a place is it to live in ? " 

" I'm sure I scarcely know how to answer," replied the Colonel, who was 
somewhat disconcerted at the effect his statistics had produced upon his 
daughter. " It's a very charming city, with a compact, handsomely built 
business center, and lovely residence streets stretching into delightful sub- 
urbs. It has the finest system of electric street railways, electric lights, 
and water and sewage systems you will find anywhere. There are a great 
many delightful places of resort about the city, and its people are cultivated 
and hospitable. Now what else could I say?" 

"Not a thing," said the Girl, laughingly; "you have done splendidly, 
papa, and in spite of your dry statistics I believe I wouldn't mind living in 




IT was part of our plan to stop over a day in San Antonio. The San Antonio, 
, , , , 1 ■ 1 1 1 •' II • 1 57' miles from 

Growler had protested that it would be just as well to go right New Orleans, 

through as to devote but a day to the most beautitul city in all the long feet.^ '"" 

stretch of country between New Orleans and Los Angeles, but the Colonel, 

while he acquiesced in all the Growler said as to the fascinations of the 

place, protested that it was much better to make a hurried inspection than 

to see nothing. 

'• \\'e will lose no time," said he, and putting this resolution into prac 
tice, he had a carriage at the door of our hotel almost as soon as the affable 
clerk had assigned us to our rooms. 

" Where away ? " he inquired. 

" To the Missions ! " exclaimed the Girl. 

\\'e assented, and the driver whipped up his horses. 'I'hrough the paved on the way to 

' ' ' . . . ' the Missions. 

business streets lined with handsome stores, past the exquisite little plaza 
that, like a gem, is set down in the heart of the city ; the white stone 
government building, with its romanes(iue architecture, its mediitval tower 
and bold-angled turret, and its row of arches and arcades that belie the 
accusation that federal architecture is a failure ; and then on into the 
suburbs, through tree-embossed cottages, we rode. Then the highway 
crept sinuously into the country, taking its way through cool and pretty 
bits of woodland and across the pebbly beds of running streams, until the 
gray, severe walls of the Mission of the Conception came into view two The 

_ . ^ ..,,.., Conception is 

miles from the plaza, i he general plan is that of a cruciform church, joined the first, 
on the south by the monastery and sacristy buildings. Above the square 
double doors is a triangular facade, and in angular spaces a Latin legend 
invokes homage to the Mission patroness and princess. On each corner of the 
western end is a square tower, but the bells that once hung in them are gone. 

" It must have been gorgeous long ago," said the Growler, pointing with 
his cane to the front of the edifice. '' One can still discover traces of the 
gaudy yellow frescoes representing dressed stones, ornamented with red 
and blue quartrefoil crosses." 

As we drove on the Colonel pointed out the spot, near the crossing of 




whereabiow the San Antonio River, where was fouofht in iS^S the first battle for Texas 

was struck for o ^^ 

freedom. uidependence. 

" The Mission of San Jose, the oldest and richest of them all," he said, 
as the second ruin came in sight. " It was completed March 5, 1731. The 
grand fagade, at the main entrance, shows what cunning workmen were the 
priests, for it is a delicate piece of carving, rising in pillared arch from the 
foundation, and culminating above in a wreath of acanthus-like curves and 
conchoids. On either side were statues of saints, and above a representa- 
tion of the Immaculate Conception. The massive doors were of native 
cedar, with panels of mesquite carved in high relief." 

We climbed the steep winding stairway made of self-supporting slabs of 
oak that led into the tower at the southwest corner, and looked out over the 
scene at our feet. All about the old Mission, with its range of cloisters and 
cells, was silent. The deserted and crumbling walls were spectral. In 
December, 1868, the falling of the main dome and roof made wreck of this 
fair place. 

Still two miles farther, and near by the San Juan ford of the river, the 
Mission of San Juan de Capistrano, named for a Franciscan friar born in 
Capistrano, Italy, in 1386, came into view. One bell still swings in the 
pierced arch high above the 
eastern wall. The almost 
entirely obliterated 

Looking off 
from the tower 
of San Jose. 

scoes convey but little 
ea o f their once great 

THE C.'i.THEnRAL IN SAN ANTONIO. i . V 4. ' v 1 1 

beauty, but m the glory- 

The rewards of days of the cliurch they were famous far and wide, yet now even the name 

such. of the artist whose brush wrought them is forgotten. About the old walls is 

a cluster of Mexican huts where children plav and men lounge about smoking 

cigarettes. Directly across the river is an old adobe saloon, where a gaudy 

sign announces the cock fight that takes place every Sunday. 



The Mission of San Francisco de la Espada is the last of the chain 
extending southward. This was the first camping ground of the Texas 
army, and it was here that Stephen F. Austin took command of the forces. 
Forty years ago the church was almost a complete ruin when Father 
Boucher, the little French padre, came to lead the devo- 
tions of the scat- /l^ ,^ <^ -— ^,^^ tered tlock. He worked as 

iir- 1 1 • y'- Si ^UB^*^ ■•<jC~'*^ 1 1 1 well as taught 

With his own ><->.<* .^KBt^ »*i ^*^'>^^v hands he and preached. 


restored it, and while he has been pastor and schoolmaster, he has likewise 
been carpenter and stonemason. 

As we turned to drive back to the city by a different way, the Colonel 
looked out over the landscape and said : "What devotion and self-renun- 
ciation all this labor stands for. These Franciscans came into the wilder- 
ness and bound its then uttermost parts to the world by their chain of 
Missions, and hemmed the fringe of civilization upon the ragged garment 
of savagery." 

"And this is civilization!" replied the Growler, pessimistically, as we 
passed the splendid buildings of the State Insane Asylum. 

" Vcs, this is civilization, if you will," the Colonel responded; "a luimani- whatwereaiiy 

1- 1 ^i..i-ii^i'i 1 need is more of 

tarian socialism where man recognizes that he is his brother s keeper and them. 
cares for him in the time of his distress." 

Just before reaching the city we came to the Army post — Camp Sam 
Houston — occupying an eligible site of 162 acres overlooking the city. Its 
extensive buildings of stone, its wide sweep of perfectly level parade- 
ground, and the high and graceful clock tower which rises from the quad- 
rangular plaza, make it an interesting place for the visitor. 

"This is the new — now for the old!" exclaimed the Colonel. "Here 



The Alamo and 
its sacred 

Begun as a 
church in 1716, 
occupied as a 
military post 
in 1718. 

is the substantial beauty of structure and the suggestiveness of modern 
power— the visible sign of a great nation. Now let us go to where a few 
old walls make hallowed ground to those who venerate the heroism of men 
who could die for a principle." 

" The Alamo ? " I asked. 

"The Alamo!" the Colonel responded. "If deeds of daring sanctify 
the soil that witnesses them that should be to every American one of the 
sacred places of the land." 

We soon alighted in front of the old church and entered its broad portal. 
A hundred and seventy-nine years have elapsed since its foundations were 


begun. Its early history would be filled with the interest of tradition were 
it not for the fact that one glorious deed of sacrifice dwarfs all that went 
before. Here on March 6, 1S36, one hundred and eighty-one citizen- 
soldiers, untrained to war, fought more than twenty times their number, and 
scorning to retreat deliberately chose to die. The fight began February 23d, 
when the Mexican army under Santa Anna began the assault. The attack 
was continued day and night, and each time the Mexican column was hurled 
back with frightful loss. Each day witnessed supreme examples of heroism 
on the part of the beleagured men. One of the most inspiring of these was 
the sacrifice of James Butler Bonham, a native of South Carolina, and the 
friend of Colonel Travis, who commanded the Alamo forces. He had been 
sent to F'annin and the government with appeals for aid, which were unavail- 
ing. On March 2d, he reached, on his return, a hill overlooking the scene 
of the siege, accompanied by two companions. Realizing the situation these 
associates saw no necessity for further progress, and demanded of Bonham 
that they retire. The reply of Boniiam immortalizes him. He said, " I will 



report the result of mv mission to Coloiif 1 1 ravis. He expects it of nic. I The bloodshed 

,,,.,". ... 1111 that ijlorified 

have to tell him there is no prospect ot reinforcements, that he has but to the oui church, 
die in defend ini^ his cause, aiul tliat I come to tlie with him." Then bukling 
farewell to iiis companions, mounted on a creani-culoreil horse, throuirti the 
lines of the enemy and amid \ »■■ dU. :» '' 
showers of bullets, this ,i4'allant Ij ^,V' \ 
son of South Carolina rode to his * ~ Rt.W;^ . •> 
death. The .<2:ates of the fortress 
opened to receive him, and he 
presented himself to his chief, the 
noblest incident in history of stern 
adherence to solemn duly without 
reganl to person. ()n the morn- 
ing of the 6th of .March a general 
assault took place. Slowly the 
noble Te.xans were driven back 
until inside the church they made 
their last stand. No quarter was 
asketi, none granted. Each 
Te.xan died desperately, in hand- 
to-hand conflict with overpower- 
ing numbers. Col, James Bowie, 
sick and unable to rise, was bay- 
oneted in his bed. Col. David 
Crockett died amid a circle of 
slaugiilered foes. Travis fell 
upon the wall where he was giv- 
ing inspiration to his men. When 
the last Te.xan died the tloor was 
nearly ankle-deep in blood, and ghastly corpses were heaped everywhere. By Every mau 

. ^ . 1,1- -111 -11 '^ ^\ t ' died fighting, 

order of Santa Ana the bodies were piled in heaps and burned. On the andnoneasked 

, . ,iiirr> -^ • -i- ^^1^ for quarter. 

monument to these immortal dead I exas writes an inscription so great that 
it makes the heart stand still : "Thermopylie had its messenger of defeat — 
the Alamo had none." 

Our partv scattered after this. The Growler said he was going out to 
San Pedro S[)rings to see the park and the menagerie, but I suspected that 
he had in mind the excellences of the fann)us San Antonio beer, rather than 
any desire to study zoology or seek communion with nature. 

The Colonel and the Girl started out to visit the great C'athetlral of San The cathedral 
Fernando on the military pla/a. It was begun in 1734 and reconstructed 
in large part in 1S68. It contains the beautiful old altar rescued from the 
ruins of the Mission of San Jose. 




As for myself 1 strolled idly about the city, charmed by its architecture, 
its modern bustle and life, the intense cleanliness of the city, which in part 
is due to the white stone and creamy brick so generally used in its buildings, 
and in part to its excellent sanitary care. The San Antonio River, a deep. The city and its 
narrow stream, whose water is a wonderful turquois-blue, winds in and out rfJer.^ 
all through the city, spanned by fifteen or sixteen bridges. Then I looked 
in at the splendid new county court house and city hall, leisurely strolled 
through the residence streets lined with handsome houses, embowered in a 
wealth of shrubbery and perfumed by the flowers that riot on the lawns. 
And finally I drifted back to the San Antonio Club, whose luxurious quar- 
ters overlooking the delightful plaza are a joy forever to the clubman. 

That evening we did what all tourists do — made a trip through the 
Mexican quarter of the town. We had seen their houses, or jacals of stone 
and adobe or of mud and sticks ; we had seen the people in picturesque 
groups in their doorways, but in the evening on Milam Square we found 
them in the characteristic attitudes of idleness. Here long tables were scenes in the 
spread, illuminated by large mediaeval-looking lanterns stuck upon posts, quarter"of the 
and spread with chili-concarne, tamales, frijoles, enchiladas, chili verde and " ^ 
tortillas, so hot with cayenne pepper that a mouthful feels like a mustard 



plaster to an .\merican stomach. Dark-eyed and gaily dressed girls, or 
witch-like old crones generally preside at the tables, though sometimes a 
man who looks like a Sicilian brigand is doing the honors and taking in the 

When, late at night, tired but triumphant, we returned to the hotel, the 
Girl displayed her purchases of the afternoon. "I was foolish enough to 


The old take lier into Meyer's curio store," the Colonel sciid, "and you see the 

gentleman's i .. -im i i ■ ^r • i • i " ■ i -i 

pocketbook result. 1 he result was a big Mexican sombrero, trimmed with silver 
braid. ''Isn't it swagger," the Girl said, holding it up triumphantly. Then, 
there were wax figures, horned toads, a gaily colored serapa, some filagree 
silver work and a half dozen opals that held scintillating red and green fires 
in their bosoms. "Aren't they lovely," said the Girl rapturously,, as she 
moved them about that the light might fall upon them. 
"But they are stones of bad omen." said the Growler. 
"Pshaw, I'm not superstitious." replied the Girl, with a toss of her head. 
"I don't think there will be any bad luck about them, if papa consents to 
have one or two of them set in diamonds." 

"You have heard how Ella Wheeler Wilcox accounts for "The Birth of 
the Opal ? " I asked, and, for fearsome one would too readily assent. I quoted 
the poem ; 

The Sunbeam loved the Moonbeam 

And followed her high and low. 

But the Moonbeam fled and hid her head, 

She was so shy — so shy. 

The Sunbeam woed with passion. 

Ah, he was a lover bold. 

And his heart was afire with a mad desire 
• For the Moonbeam pale and cold. 

She fled like a dream before him. 

Her hair was a shining sheen. 

And O ! that fate would annihilate 

The space that lay between. 

Just as the day lay panting 

In the arms of the twilight dnn 

The Sunbeam caught the one he sought 

And drew her close to him. 

And out of his warm arms startled 

And stirred by love's first shock 

She sprang afraid like a trembling maid 

And hid in a niche of rock. 

But the Sunbeam followed and found her 

And led her to love's own feast, 

And they were wed on that rocky bed 

And the dying day was their priest. 

And lo ! the beautiful Opal. 

That rare and wondrous gem, 

Where the Moon and Sun blend into one 

Is the child that was born to them. 



" A -^l^< >CK1 Nci-l!l Rl) sang under my window this morning," said the 
Ix. (iirl. W'e were bowling along westward of San Antonio, and the 
broad prairies swept to the horizon outside of the car. 

■'This is a great country for mocking-birds," replied the Cirowler. Native haunts 
"There is a belt fifty miles north and as much south of San Antonio where songster, 
they seem to be at home. There is a peculiar fact which 1 learned while 
camping in this section on hunting trips, and that is that the mockuig-bird 
preempts his farm." 

"Come, come, Growler," I said ; "this is too much." 

" It is true, just the same," was the response. "Each mocking-bird has 
his own range, which will supply berries enough to last him until spring. 
The boundaries of the tract are determined with as much accuracy as a 
mining prospector locates his claim. It varies from say fifty to a hundred 
yards square. The mocking-bird defends this possession jealously. He Hes a selfish 
takes his position in the top of the highest tree or bush when not feeding, 
and woe to the * tramp ' bird that seeks to 'squat' upon his premises. On 
the first alarm he is in the air ready to fight and pursue the intruder until 
he drives him away. He is a selfish fellow, too, and in the winter turns his 
mate out of house and home to look for a range of her own, lest his food 
supply prove inadequate." 

"You spoke about the hunting. Is it good in Texas?" I asked. 

"There are plenty of deer as well as (juail and other game birds, while 
jack-rabbit shooting is good sport," was the reply. "Of course coyotes, what the 
wolves and fo.xes don't count, but you can find bear and panther if you fi?u[s^'n Texas, 
know where to look for them. I5ut for the fisherman there is equal attrac- 
tion, for from the trout streams to the home of the tarpon all along the 
gulf coast, and particularly at Rockport and Corpus Christi, one can get all 
the amusement desired." 

"What a country for stock," .said the Colonel, meditatively, as he looked 
out of the window where the high level plain — or Llano Alto, as the Mexi- 
cans call it — grown thick with its peculiar herbage, but looking dry and 
barren in places, was inanimate except for here and there a herd of cattle. 




Water will 
make it bloom 
as the rose. 

The arid 
regions oi 

through here. Two milli(Mi of our young || 
ijority every year. They want homes of ■ 

"With water it will bloom as the rose," replied the Growler, "and some 
day there will be great farms all thi 
men and women reach their maj( 
their own. The naturally watered lands will soon be exhausted, or too high 
for struggling industry to acquire. In California, in Utah and in Arizona 
we have seen the desert converted into a garden by artificial application of 
water. It will be so here. Few people really realize how great is the scope 
of arid country in the United 

" I will confess 1 
do not," I said. ^^' 



• ■■*. ^ .r^ 

'**^*^'^ "It is half the 

whole country." 
'• Not so much as 
that, surely," I an- 
swered, in surprise. 

" Yes," said the Growler, 
"it is really half of all 
America, excepting Alaska. It can be defined in this way: If you com- 
mence on the ninety-seventh meridian, on the west end of the Gulf of 
Mexico, and run north to the British Possessions, then run a thousand miles 
west to the one hundred and fifteenth meridian, at the east line of Idaho, 
dropping down one hundred miles, then run west to the top of the Cascade 
Mountains, in Washington, one hundred miles from the Pacific coast ; then 
turning south, run along the top of the Cascade Mountains until you get j 
forty miles below San Francisco, then turn west and run to the Pacific coast j 
and follow that coast down to Old Mexico, then turning follow along the j 
north line of Old Mexico down the Rio Grande and around to the place of 
beginning, you will have gone around arid America, and you will have gone 
around a tract of country half as big as all the United States. In the settle- 
ment of arid America, as it was commenced in 1854, we never asked what ] 
the country was when we set foot upon it, and it is only within the last few 
years that we have come to admit to the world that Western Kansas, Western 
Nebraska, the Dakotas, one-third part of Texas and Western Oklahoma, ' 
and all of the great region extending from the warm waters of the gulf to . 



the British Possessions, cannot be settled and cannot support a population 
in peace and happiness unless it be reclaimed by irrigation. Now," con- 
tinued the Growler, " this bit of country has cost us a lot of money. We 
paid first to Old Mexico, in 1848, $15,000,000 for New Mexico and Cali- 
fornia. We afterward paid Old Mexico $10,000,000 for the 45,000 square 
miles embraced in what is known as the Gadsden Purchase. We afterward 
paid Texas $10,000,000 for releasing her claims to that portion of New 
Mexico which lies east of the Rio Grande. It strikes me that the Govern- 
ment, having invested so much, should put in a few more millions to 
develop it, and make this vast area 
the home of the contented and 
prosperous millions who could be 
supported here." 

"Well," said the Colonel, "if 
the Government is not doing very 
much, private enterprise is. And 
as we shall see before we get 
through with this trip, it has made 
a garden out of Southern Califor- 
nia, and has progressed favorably 
in the same direction with respect 
to many points in Texas, Arizona 
and New Mexico." 

" But there seems to be a good 
deal of verdure out on those 
plains," I said. 

" Yes," replied the Colonel, 
"the soil is so rich that grass 
grows with the slightest encour- 
agement. Cattle in vast numbers 
graze here and find abundant pas- 
turage. Besides that there are 
some forage plants peculiar to the 
soil and climate. For instance, 
there is the grease plant, which, 
even when green, burns as tho' saturated with kerosene. The Siempre Viva 
or Plant of Eternal Life, or resurrection plant, as it is variously called, often 
has the appearance of being dead, but opens up in water, and becomes green 
and thrifty even after years. The most peculiar growth is that which is 
called the loco plant. It comes out in the early spring before the grass 
sprouts, and when cattle eat it a species of insanity seizes them. It 
affects horses in the same way, and the plainsmen describe the mania by 

A good many 
millions of 
acres that cost 
lis a great 
many millions 
of dollars. 

Private enter- 
prise is taking 
the matter in 


peculiar to the 
Texas plains. 

J :rr 

1 5^ I 

«>\ ' 


saying they see gliosis. The sympionis indicate a sort of liallucination, 
such as the inebriate is seized with when we say he has dehrium tremens." 

".Sabinal will be the seat of an imi)ortant enterprise some day," remarked sabinai, 642 

^1 ,, , , , . , , . „. ^ -1 r 1' 1 miles west of 

the Lolonel. as the tram passed that station. " r ifty miles from here there are New Orleans, 
very extensive deposits of a high grade of kaoline. Several thousand dol- and asphalt 
lars have already been spent by St. Louis parties in prospecting and opening 
it, and tho' the rough and mountainous country in which it is situated, 
and its remoteness from railroads, are discouraging factors, I look for its 
]3roritat)le development in the future. Four miles from here an asphalt 
mine is l)eing opened up. The whole country is full of this valuable min- 
eral, and it is only a (luestion of time when it will be profitably worked. I 
also understand that silver-bearing ore has been discovered in paying cjuan- 
tities near the town." 

" In reference to the arid lands we were talking about awhile ago," said the 
Growler, as the train drew up to the station of Uvalde, twenty-three miles 
beyond Sabinal, " I am reminded of a big irrigating project which is now 
approaching completion here. The Uvalde Irrigation, Manufacturing and 
Water Co., of which Capt. B. F. Buzard is president, owns 25,000 acres of uvaidesbig 
land lying north and south of the Southern Pacific track between the scheme. 
Nueces River on the west and the Leona River on the east. Like all the 
land in this part of Texas, the soil is very fertile. The irrigation scheme 
contemplates the drawing of water from the Nueces River at a point on 
the hills about twenty miles north of the town. The river there, tho' for 
the most part fed from great springs, presents all the aspects of a mountain 
torrent, having a fall of about twenty feet to the mile. Here a dam has 
been built, and through cement-lined canals and wooden flumes the water 
is carried over the land. There is water enough available to irrigate more 
than 80,000 acres. Assuming that one cubic foot of water per second will Millions in 

1 1 • • 1 /- 1 tr. • ) water and 

irrigate 350 acres, and that it is worth for that purpose $1,000 per miners homes forthe 
inch, or $50,000 per cubic foot as estimated in California, the present com- ^^ 
pany at one-fifth of this estimate will be able to supply $2,500,000 worth of 
water per annum. Their plan is to sell their irrigated lands in small par- 
cels to actual settlers, and I regard it as one of the methods which are so 
important to the development of our country." 

"All these places have something more than local interest," chimed in cune, 6S2 miles 

1-1 1 XT 1 • ,,■ r ■ .1-1 T ■ . • west of New 

the Cohjnel. " Now, here is Cline, for instance. 1 o the ordinary tourist it Orleans; 

1 ,• T^-i r • ^ ' ^ ■ ^ ^ elevation 1,007 

does not suggest anything. But it is the seat of a very important interest, feet, its new 
The Litho-Carbon Rubber Co., whose stock is chiefly held by New York """'^''^ • 
capitalists, owns some 17,000 acres of land five and a half miles southeast 
of the station. This land contains vast deposits of a new mineral discov- 
ered four years ago, and called by the geological department at Washington 
Litho-Carl)on. The company has expended upwards of $200,000 in the 



The rock gives 
forth a paint 
compound and 

An original 
and ingenious 

Ho! for Mexico 
and its curious 
cities and 

last couple of years in putting up an extraction plant and mastic works. 
The bitumen which is extracted from the rock finds a ready market among 
the paint and varnish manufacturers in this country and Europe, and the 
present capacity of this plant has recently been increased from fifty tons 
per week to eighty tons per day. The company also makes a compound 
for rubber and an insulating material for electric wires and electrical 
machinery. The mastic plant is a distinct business, the product 
being extensively used for laying sidewalks and 
roadways in cities. During the past year the 
company contracted for several thousand tons t^ 
put upon the streets of Houston. 
The daily capacity of this plant 
is fifty tons. The rock deposit 
crops up above the soil on the 
company's property and is easily 
mined, six charges of dynamite 
dislodging some 200 tons. In ap- 
pearance the rock is similar to 
bituminous limestone. The ex- 
traction is made with oil, under a 
very ingenious process patented by the company. So far as the plant is 
concerned it would be a model one in any of our great industrial centers 
as well as out here on the Texas plains, for it has its own arc and incan- 
descent electric lights, a ten-ton ice plant, comfortable quarters for its sev- 
enty-five employes, and every facility for profitably doing business." 

Spofford, 705 miles west of New Orleans, is the junction point for 
Mexico, the Southern Pacific running a through sleeping car service via 
Spofford to the City of Mexico. " It is a most delightful trip," said the 
Growler. "The Mexican International is struck at Eagle Pass, and one 
goes via Torreon. Coming from the west the tourist takes the Mexican 
Central at El Paso. The service throughout is excellent, the roads and 
their equipment perfect, and the novelty of the people one meets and the 
sights one sees are a large reward for the small cost and additional time 
consumed. It's a wonder to me that more of our people do not make the 
tour through Mexico, where so much that is quaint and interesting invites 
them. At every station one sees groups of natives full of picturesqueness. 
The landscape is a great pleasure, for even the flat-topped mountains are 
different from anything we have, and the old towns with their domed cathe- 
drals are like cities in Palestine." 





" ir~\EL RIO !" said the Girl, " tliat lias a Spanish sound." 
J__>/ "I like the old name of the place best," responded the Colonel; Del Rio, 741 

T^,--rTii iri- 1 t r niiles west of 

"it was San relipi. 1 here are some wonderful springs a mile northeast of New Orleans, 
the town. They burst from the foot of low, rocky hills, and so great is springs^of san 
their flow that, besides furnishing water for the town and the railroad, for ^ *^*' 
ice factory, cotton gins and grist mills, and irrigating 3,000 acres of land, 
a great volume runs to waste in a swift, bold stream that flows toward the 
Rio Grande. There are abundant deposits of red and yellow ochre a mile 
east of town, and a thorough geological survey will doubtless reveal other 
mineral wealth." 

"The system of irrigation here proves what can be done in this soil and what can be 
climate," remarked the Growler. "Something like 8,000 or 10,000 acres getwateron°" 
are in cultivation. The soil is a rich loam and produces all sorts of fruits, '^"'^°' ' 
vegetables and grains. I have seen sixty bushels of corn, or one and a half 
bales of cotton, or four hundred bushels of potatoes grown to the acre. It 
is a great grape district, the Lenore or Black Spanish grape flourishing with 
almost unexampled luxuriance, producing as high as 20,000 pounds to 
the acre. A great deal of wine is made here, and sells at $1.00 per gallon 
when new." 

"Isn't there a mineral spring hereabouts, too?" I asked. 

"Yes," said the Growler, " on the southern limits of the town there is a a spring for 
famous mineral well, of which Prof. Everhart made the following statement : thenItionf.° 
' So far as my own experience goes, there is only one sulphur water in the 
state that possesses all the qualities of a first-class water, and that is 
one found at Del Rio. This water stood for over six weeks in my labora- 
tory without losing appreciably any of its properties. Taking everything 
into consideration, it stands at the head of any sulphur water found in the 
United States, and is probably equal to any found elsewhere in the world." 

" I never think of Del Rio without recalling the hunting story that Duval oneof Dmai 
West, of San Antonio, tells. West is as truthful as most lawyers, and I really yarns^ "" '"^ 
think he believes this," .said the Colonel. " He says that a couple of years 
ago a party, of which he was one, went by way of Del Rio for a hunting 




trip into Mexico. Their chosen ground was on the Sabinas River, eighty- 
miles south of this point, where deer, turkey and the wild Mexican hog are 
plentiful. A very wealthy New Orleans cotton broker, whom we will call 
Jones because that was not his name, was in the party. After leaving Del 
Rio, they traveled for two days over a very dry and dusty plain. There was 
not a tree in sight and scarcely a blade of grass. The cotton broker lost 
heart, and said to Comstock, an Englishman who was in the party, and who 
X had never been known to kill anything, 
AT^^ 'Comstock, I'll bet vou ,.-^" 


Took big odds $i,500-00 to $i.oo that you do not shoot a deer to-morrow.' The bet was of 
sport!^''* ^ course taken. Then J(^nes said to ancjther meml)er of the party who was a 
fairly good sportsman, ' T will bet you $i,ogo.oo to $i.oo that you don't kill a 
deer to-morrow,' and to ^^'est, '1 will bet you !Jj!5oo.oo to $r.oo that you do not 
kill a tleer to-morrow.' 'J'hese bels were taken, and to the guide who was a 
famous shot, and who hatl been talking a great deal about the superb turkey 
sht)Oting, he said, 'I will bet you |tioo.oo to $i.oo you don't get a turkey.' 
That night they reached the hunting grounds, and bright and earlv the next 
morning each member of the party went forth, determined, if possible, to win 
the big purses hung up as incentives to success. West said that after tramp- 
ing for five or six miles he got a good shot at a doe at one hundred yards, 
took deliberate aim and blazed away. The doe fell and disappeared over a 
little swale in the ground. Confident that he had killed it he walked up 
leisurely only to find when he reached the place that the wounded animal 
had escaped. That was llie oiil)- shot that he got that day. Comstock fired 
point-blank at a deer at sixty yards and missed it. He protested that if it 
had not been for the nervousness produced by the consciousness of the bet, 
he would have killed his game ; but he matle a clean miss. The other 
member of the ]')arty got a good shot at a deer but also missed. The guide 

West was sure 
he was a 


was the only one who did not see any game, so that tho' they killed plenty of 
deer and turkey during every other day of their stay, Jones who stood to 
lose over $3,000.00 as against a winning of $4.00, took in all tiie bets." 

Six miles beyond Del Rio the roatl enters a cutting and begins to skirt 
the bank of the Rio (Irande. At times the waters of the river wash the 
siielf of stone upon which the track is laid. On the right the great wall of 
gray rock rises in castellated turrets, sometimes projecting in roof-like 
masses that overhang the track. Here and there, from the cavernous 
mouths of caves, great tlocks of swallows and bats issue forth as the train 
clatters by. With affrighted cries they circle about for a time and then 
retreat into the dark and mysterious recesses again. Off to the left arc the 
misty blue mountains of Mexico. Here the two republics confront each 
other belligerently and with the menace of stern granite walls, while between 
the placid river flows. Ten miles beyond, and Devil's River, an affluent of 
the Rio Grande, is crossed. Its crystal clear waters abound in trout that 
tempt the sportsmen. After crossing the river the train runs through 
Seminole Cave Caiion. Here again the great primeval rocks rise like the 
buttressed walls of a castle in Lombardy. They are honeycombed with 
caves, the interior walls of which are daubed in places with paint and 

But Jones took 
in all the 

Caves on the 
banks of the 
Rio Grande. 

X good place 
for scientists 
and ,\paches. 


marked by indecipherable hieroglyphics. In these caves the roaming l)ands 
of Apaches once sought shelter when too closely pursued by the troops, and 
were wont to lie in secure hiding while the soldiers were mystified bv their 
sudden disappearance. 

When Comstock is reached, the Santa Rosa Mountains can be seen, The 
towering blue and bold, seventy miles away in Mexico. Here one begins Mountains* 



to realize the purity and rarity of the atmosphere on these high plains. How the eye is 

The eye acquires a power lost to it in other latitudes. That hill over there 

is thirty miles away, but you would aver that it was only five at most. To 

the foot of those bluffs is twenty miles, but if you relied upon vision you 

would say you could walk to them in half an hour. Continuallv one is 

deceived by this foreshortening of distance. 

" We start upon a trip from New Orleans to San Francisco with indifference The old stage 
now." said the Growler, "but it was very different when I used to go over the continent, 
the route before the railway was built. I have crossed here when the stage 
line was in operation, and it followed a route but a few miles north of the 
road at this point. We had six and eight mule teams and covered the six 




hundred and thirty miles from San Antonio to El Paso in six days, which 
was not slow for that mode of conveyance. The fare per passenger was 
i$4o.oo, and he carried his own life insurance, an extra-hazardous policy for 
the insurance companies, too, for the Apaches made things lively. You can 
imagine how a man felt after six days and nights in a stage. Why. he could 
fall down and sleep anywhere." 

"It was a little expensive traveling, too; was it not ?" I inquired. 

"The last time I came that way," replied the Growler, "was on the 
eastern trip. It was by sea from San Francisco to Santa Monica, $14.00; 
thence to Los Angeles by rail, $1.00; from Los Angeles to Yuma by rail, 
$23.00. There I took the old Southern Pacific mail stage line of Kerens 
and Mitchell to Mesilla, N. M., and by way of Tucson and El Paso to San 
Antonio, the total fare by stage being something over $200.00." 



The Pecos 
bridge, one of 
the highest in 
the world. 

Patty and her 

Let his arm be 
burned off 
and never 

The Pecos bridge, one of the most remarkable structures of the kind in 
the world, is crossed just beyond Comstock. Its long steel spans, the mid- 
dle one 185 feet in length, look like spider webs against the great depths it 
crosses. The bridge is 2,184 f^^t long and 321 feet above the bed of the 
river, which far below winds like an azure ribbon through its steep walled 
chasm of rock. 

Mr. J. R. Moorehouse, a former paymaster of the Pennsylvania Railroad 
system, lives on the east bank of the Pecos, and has an extensive sheep 
ranch. His young daughter, Patty, used to ride her mustang across the 
narrow footway of the bridge, a feat so perilous that the railway company 
finally put up a wire fence to prevent the hazardous undertaking. 

"One of the most superb evidences of fortitude took place in Howard's 
Well Caiion. forty miles north of here, in 1S76," said the Colonel, musingly. 
"The occasion was one of those plains tragedies which were all too frequent 
up to that date. A long Mexican wagon train was making its way north- 
ward when it was attacked by Apaches in Howard's Well Canon. The men 
were overpowered and most of them killed, the survivors tied to the wagon 
wheels, and the train rifled and the wagons set on fire. Only one man escaped 
to tell the story — a Mexican teamster, who had been shot through the breast. 
As he lay upon the ground feigning death, an Apache brave, who was going 
about convincing himself that the slaughter was complete, kicked him 
toward the fire. The Mexican's hand fell among the blazing embers. To 
have moved would have been to have invited death, and he lay there and 
let his hand and arm shrivel to a cinder. When the Indians rode away he 
crawled for ten miles to a ranch and told the storv of disaster." 





HE train drew up to the little station where a big brown tank awaited Langtry, 806 
to refresh the thirsty engine. The conductor said we would have Ne"orie™ns. 

ten minutes, and we stepped out on the platform. The stony hills swept 
away on the right and left, opening before us into narrow valleys toward 
which the shining rails led. Half-encircling the little group of houses was 
the deep Canon of the Rio . Grande, a precipitous cleft 

in the ground, where y\ 


the walls have a sheer fall of two hundred feet from the level of the mesa to 
the bed of the river. Across to the right, fifty yards away, was a low, 
broad, white frame building, with a shaky veranda in front and a roof that 
sloped flatly to the eaves. A big black bear, in an iron-barred cage, paced 
restlessly to and fro. Over the front of the saloon, for such it was, a big 
sign flaunted, bearing the legend, "The Jersey Lily." 

"Well," said the Girl, deliberately, as she cast her eye over the landscape 
and finally fixed them on the little cluster of houses ; " it would be hard to 
find anything of interest about this place." 

The Colonel chuckled and replied: "This is one of the most interesting The home of 
points on the line. It is the home of one of the most original characters of^theprc^^* 




Pen picture 
the "Jedge. 

A recital of 
frontier life. 

the frontier has given birth to — Roy Bean, by courtesy and reason of his 
office called the Judge, and known throughout Texas as 'The law west 
of the Pecos.' There he is now." 
of A rather stout man of perhaps si.xty years came out of the door of 

•' The Jersey Lily " and stood upon the porch watching the train. He was of 
medium height. As he took off an old sombrero a splendidly shaped head, 
covered with an unkempt shock of gray hair, was visible. His bearded face 
was kindly, and had manifestly been handsome in his early manhood. He 
wore a check shirt open at the throat and a pair of trousers supported by a 
single suspender. 

" Take a good look at the Judge," said the Growler, affectionately; " you 
will never see another man like him." 

When we had resumed our seats and the train was speeding on, I 
reminded the Colonel of his promise to tell us something of Judge Bean, 
and he answered : 

"The whole story of Roy Bean's life is a recital of frontier exploit. It 
seems far away to us because the times that made it possible have passed 
forever. No quainter, __— — — — __ more original or self- 
assertive ^..-^ — ~~~"~-— <.^ character 


ever lived, and none who has drawn a larger stock of common sense f-rom the 
hard school of experience. In the history of the southwest frontier he will fill 
an important niche. Roy is a Kentuckian, born in 1829, but moving to 
Independence, Missouri, soon after. When sixteen he made a trip to Santa 
Fe, and in 1846 went into Mexico with General Donaphan. From then on, 
for forty years, his life was one of wild adventure. How he was first 


arrested for shooting a Mexican, who tried to rob his brother's store in 
Chihuahua, his novel-Hke adventures in El Paso, Tucson and other points, 
would fill a book. Finally after running a gambling saloon and dance 
house in 1850-51, at San Gabriel Mission, near Los Angeles, and selling 
whisky at the Peno Alto mines in Arizona, he drifted back to Texas, and 
during the war freighted cotton from Allerton, the terminus of the first 
little railroad in the state, to Lodi, Eagle Pass and Brownsville, bringing opened a 
on his return trips supplies for the Confederate government. When the bec°a°me^a 
Southern Pacific was being built across these plains he was prompted to open p"ace^° * ^ 
a saloon and follow the camps. He first located at a place east of the 
Pecos, to which he gave the name of Vinegerone. Here he piled up rock 
walls, stretched a canvas awning across for a roof and sold whisky to the 
thirsty laborers. Here, too, he began his celebrated judicial career. Gam- 
blers flocked in and there was so much shooting and such a rapid increase 
in the population of the little cemetery, that the contractor in charge of 
the works wrote to Governor Ireland and had Roy commissioned as a jus- 
tice of the peace, and a company of rangers detailed to assist him. From 
then on Roy's course was marked by those extraordinary decisions which 
are notorious, and I have sat by the hour, and the Growler there has, too, 
and listened to Roy tell about them, while we shook with laughter at each 
ludicrous result." 

"Tell us some of them," I said; "I should like to know by what pro- 
cesses the Judge has achieved such fame." 

" Tell the Chinaman story," said the Colonel, turning to the Growler. 

"When there were six thousand Chinamen working along here building Found no 
the road," was the response, " it was pretty difficult to hold them in check. nmd'eVa^* 
They were divided off into gangs and over each of these subdivisions there chTnaman.*"* 
was a white boss. One day the Chinamen in one gang made an assault upon 
the foreman, who retaliated by shooting and killing a Celestial. Another 
white employe, who had a pique at the man who had done the killing, pre- 
ferred a charge against him before Justice Roy Bean. The rangers were 
sent out and duly arrested him. That afternoon a large party of white 
men from the camp, heavily armed, rode over and demanded an immediate 
trial of the prisoner, their intention being to release him in the event the 
court did not. Roy told them that the inquiry would be held the next 
afternoon, and invited them to picket their horses and to make themselves 
at home in the meantime. They proceeded to do so, with the expected 
result that they spent a great deal of money in Roy's saloon. The next 
day that able jurist convened court, and taking his position on the counter 
in his saloon, where he always sits v/hile conducting the trial of a case, 
announced with great dignity that he had carefully studied the statutes but 
that the most diligent search failed to show that it was a crime to kill a 



Fined a dead 
man for 




Didn't mind 
people, either. 

Chinaman; that if any one could show him where it was made a misdemeanor 
to take the life of a Chinaman he would hold the accused, but that otherwise 
he should be compelled to discharge him — and discharge him he did." 

*' He rendered a verdict at a coroner's inquest which is also historic," 
said the Colonel. "While the Pecos bridge was in course of construction, 
one of the men fell from it and was killed. Roy was summoned to view 
the remains, and in examining the person of the deceased to find possible 
clews to his identity, he discovered a small revolver and a time-check for 
$40.00 which was 
good to bearer. The 
Judge impaneled a 
jury, who listened to 
the evidence a n d 
promptly brought in 
a verdict of acci- 


denial death. The 
spectators started 
to disperse, but Roy 
called them to order, 
and said: ' This is 
not all, gentlemen. 
The deceased came 
to his death by accident, but there is another matter to be attended to. 
I find upon the body a revolver and forty dollars. Now it is contrary to 
the laws of Texas, and to the peace and dignity of the state, to carry con- 
cealed weapons. I therefore confiscate the pistol and fine the deceased forty 
dollars for this breach of law.' and he coolly pocketed the proceeds, and 
laughs about it to this day." 

" I never remember but one instance where the Judge's decisions brought 
him into conflict with the higher authorities," remarked the Growler. "He 
had married two Mexican couples- — and, by the way, in all this region they 
won't have anybcKly but him perform the ceremony. In a month or two 
they came back, and said they could not agree and wanted to 'swap ' wives. 
Roy listened to the recital of their marital woes, and then with a pretense 



of some sort of ceremony declared them divorced. Then he collected $15.00 
from each released husband and they started away, the women simply 
changing protectors and evidently designing to cling to the new spouse. 
But Roy called them back and declared that this would not do ; that it was 
contrary to law, and that they must be remarried under the new assign- 
ment. He performed the double ceremony and charged each one an The higher 
additional $5.00. When Judge T. A. Falvey of El Paso, who is upon the approve, 
bench of this judicial district, heard of the affair, he wrote to Roy and 
said, ' It is all right this time, but, for God's sake, don't divorce any more 
couples.' " 

" I used to know a young telegraph operator who was employed at 
Langtry," continued the Growler, "and once he got into trouble with a 
Mexican citizen, and apprehending that Roy did not like him and might fix a 
severe punishment, hurriedly left for Sanderson, v-j^^fe*. The Mexi- 
can swore out a warrant, but the guilty party 
was gone. Roy strolled down to the agent and /*^ 


asked him what had become of the operator. He told him he had fled Roy refuses to 
for fear of punishment. 'Pshaw,' said Roy, 'have him come back, I'll take wlrranJ^*^ 
care of him.' The young fellow reappeared the next day and the Mexican 
at once sought out Roy and demanded his arrest, but that dignitary gravely 
informed him that the first warrant having been returned unsatisfied, the 
constable not being able to serve it, a second warrant could not be issued, 
as the law declared that a man could not twice be put in jeopardy of his 
life. Another of the Judge's favorite and profitable methods of inflicting 



His favorite 
punishment is 
popular with 
the natives. 

Roy are bitter rivals 

But he insists 
that the guilty 
shall buy their 
beer of him. 

The Judge 
enjoys the 
joke, too. 

punishment is to fine the convicted party, where the offense is not grave, a 
couple of dozen bottles of beer, which, of course, are bought and paid for 
on the spot at the rate of fifty cents each. There is a Mexican by the name 
of Torreone who runs an opposition saloon in Langtry, and naturally he and 

Some time ago Torreone 
was arrested by a fellow- 
citizen whom he had as- 
saulted. He demanded 
a trial by jury, and 
after a good deal of 
effort enough men 
were mustered 
up to compose 
the panel. 
When the evi- 
dence was all in 
they deliber- 
ated for some 
time and finally 
returned a ver- 
dict of guilty, 
and fixed the 
fine at two doz- 
en bottles of 
beer. Elated 
at getting off so 
easily the prisoner 
sprang up and said, 
'AH right, boys, 
come over to my 
place and have the 
beer.' 'No you 
don't,' responded 
Judge Bean, 
promptly and firm- 
ly. 'The_ fines im- 
posed in this yere court are paid right here, and don't you forget it,' and he 
compelled the discomfited Torreone to patronize his bar, and pay the full 
retail price, too." 

"There are a hundred incidents of this kind I could relate," said the 
Colonel meditatively, "and all of them have the advantage of being abso- 
lutely true. Absurd as they seem, and as they are, they are based upon 




the same principles of law that actuated Solomon — good common sense. 

Roy Bean's court is a product of the country, and his decisions are adapted 

to the necessities of the life about him. Nobody enjoys the recital of these 

legal comedies more than Roy himself, and the twinkle in his eye as he 

quaintly narrates them shows his own keen appreciation of humor. One of 

the best stories of Roy Bean's early career is told by Major Horace Bell, in 

his book entitled 'Reminiscences of a Ranger,' published some fifteen years 

ago, and dealing with the California life of the 50's. At that time Roy 

was running his saloon at the San Gabriel Mission, and it was one of the 

toughest of its class. On one Sunday some three thousand people had 

gathered around the old Mission to amuse themselves in various ways. The 

list of amusements included a horse race, monte games and cock fights. It 

was a rough assemblage, the most of the crowd being Americans, all des- An incident 

perate fellows, who cared nothing for killing a man. While the celebration iife^*^^'^^ 

was at its height a smooth-faced young man, of exceedingly polite and 

graceful demeanor, rode up. dismounted and entered the saloon kept by 

Roy. The new comer leaned against the bar and carelessly surveved the 
scene. While quietly looking on he was roughly accosted by a ruffianly 
looking man, who, taking a position directly in front of the young fellow, 
and surveying him from head to foot, said, with a contemptuous grin : 

" 'Well, whar in hell did you come from?' 

" ' I ! ' replied the young man in a pleasant voice , ' why, I just arrived 
from Los Angeles.' 

" 'You weren't raised thar, war ye?' asked the bully. 

" ' No ; I came from New York.' 

" ' I jest don't know whar New York is ; I reckon it's way up north some- 
whar, whar you pries the sun up with a hand-spike.' 



'"The sun never sets in New York,' was the response. 

''The quiet demeanor of the young man enraged the bully, and he be- The wiidwoif 
came still more overbearing, declaring himself to be the 'Wild Wolf of the Arkansas. 

'" I was the bloodiest man in the Cherokee Nation,' said he; 'lama 
half-breed Cherokee, I am, and I belong to the Ridge party. I killed three 
Mexicans on my way out here. I killed a soldier at Fort Yuma, and I have 

been here three weeks and ain't killed anybody yet. I'm going to give He announces 

J ■> -I o o jjjg intention to 

these Mexicans a chance to have a funeral, and if you open your mouth do some killing 
I'll kill you.' 

" 'Please, sir, don't bury me alive,' said the young man, ironically. 
" ' Be keerful, stranger ; I shoot, cut and kill, I do.' 
"Roy was watching the proceedings from behind the bar. His sympa- 
thies were all with the young man, and quietly slipping up to him he placed 
a small derringer in his hand. The youth turned his hand so as to secrete the 
weapon, and when the bully again continued his insulting remarks and 
threats he coolly looked at him, and said : 

"'You are not dangerous, and I don't think you will hurt me.' 
"This caused the storm to break forth, and the bully jumped up, and, 
cracking his heels, cried out to the crowd : 



The youth did 
not seem 

But found he 
had struck 
the wrong 

And the cigar 
goes up his 

" 'Get out of the way, I'm going to shoot.' 

"A general rush was made for the doors, and, as the desperado reached 
to draw his pistol, the young man with a quick movement placed the barrel 
of the derringer, which he had been holding in his hand, against the breast 
of the bully, and said in a firm tone : 

" ' My dear sir, hold up your hands, or I will kill you.' 

"The bully found that he had met his master, and mechanically obeyed 
the command. 

" ' Now,' said the young man, * unbuckle that belt and let your six-shooter 
fall,' which command was obeyed without a murmur. 

"'Now take a position at that corner of the room,' continued the young 
fellow, pointing to the place indicated. The cowed bully obeyed, and his 
conqueror picked up the six-shooter and calling for a cigar quietly lighted 
it. The crowd was watching the scene with mute wonder. After thoroughly 
lighting the cigar, keeping a drop on the bully all the time, he walked up 
to his cowed victim, and thrusting the pistol in his face, said : 

" ' Hold your hands behind your back : I'm going to stick the fiery end 
of this cigar in your nose, and you must let it remain until it goes out. If 
you flinch or attempt to take it out, I'll make a funeral for these Mexicans.' 

"This threat was put into execution, and stepping back to the bar, the 
young hero said : 

"'Gentlemen, resume your games ; there will be no further trouble,' still 
keeping a deadly aim on the bully. 

"'My name is Joe Stokes, and I can whip any man in California who 
don't like me. I like to lay for such soft snaps as 'The Wild Wolf of the 
Arkansas.' ' 

"The young hero then went out, and mounting his horse, rode off amid 
the wild cheers of the crowd. This was a brother of Ed Stokes of New 






ROM Langtry to El Paso every foot of the way seemed to suggest The landscape 
something of romantic interest connected with the pioneer Hfe of the westernTexas. 

country to the Colonel or to the Growler. The wide sweep of verdure-clad 
or barren landscape, the rugged near-by butts or far-off blue chains of 
towering mountains, the presence of a frontier fort, with its trim buildings 

lAlsAI.NO r.\^S. .SUMMIT UT' 1 lU, .sLNbl.l KUUIL.. 

and flying colors, everything revived incidents that added an element of 
acute interest to the journey. 

" They have all the train robberies up north now, but we used to have a 
few down here in the early days of lawlessness," said the Colonel when we 
reached Samuels. "The train robbers soon gave up the business though, 
because through this part of the country it was too easy to catch them." 

"I should think they could get away very readily on these great plams 
and among these mountain fastnesses," I said. 

'' Not at all," was the reply. " Throughout all this country the presence Men become 

. , .,',.., skilled in the 

of a Stranger creates comment, and every movement is closely scrutinized art of 
by a people given to the most minute observation. The man himself, the 
clothes he wears, his accoutrements and the horse he rides — every peculiar- 
ity is made mental note of. Thus it is easy to trace him. Cattlemen and 




Windy Smith 
taken by 

A wild chase 
after the 

prospectors are always wandering about on the plains or in the mountains, 
and the solitary life they lead develops an acuteness of observation and a 
shrewdness of deduction which would put a detective to the blush. Now a 
bold hold-up occurred just a mile east of Samuels a few years ago Horse- 
shoes were placed on the track, and when the engine began bumping over 
them, of course the engineer put on the brakes. The bandits raided the 
express car where 'Windy' Smith was in charge. 'Windy' was a brave 
fellow, and had killed two robbers who attacked his car the year before ; 
but he was taken by surprise, and his safe relieved of $3,600. He was so 
chagrined that he resigned at once and left the service of the Wells-Fargo 
Co. Immediately after securing the booty the men, John Flynt, Jack Wel- 
lington, Tom Fields and Jim Lansford, fled across the Rio Grande. Pur- 
sued by a party of rangers under Capt. Frank Jones, they recrossed, bury- 
ing the money at a camp near BuUis Crossing. The chase lasted some 
three weeks, and finally the robbers were overtaken in the spurs of the Sra. 
Charrote Mountains in Crockett county. A running fight took place. 
Flynt, the leader, had declared that , . he would never be taken alive and 


refused to surrender. His horse was shot under him, and as he fell to the 
ground a bullet struck him in the heart. Raising himself on his elbow as 
he lay dying upon the ground, he put his own pistol to his headland blew 
out his brains. He was buried where he fell. Wellington's horse was shot 
under him and he dodged behind a rock. Twice he leveled his pistol and 
took aim at Jones, who dashed in pursuit of him, but each time he dropped 
the weapon without firing, saying afterwards that ' tho' a robber and a 
thief, ht' was not a murderer and could not take life.' The three men were 



captured, and are now serving life sentences in the United States peniten- 
tiary at Detroit. There was a mystery about the robbery which has never 
been cleared up. The footprints of five men and five horses were found. 
One of the human footprints showed a very small foot. Lansford, who 
turned state's evidence, protested that there were only four in the gang, but 
the rangers hold to this day that there was a fifth person who, for some 
unknown reason, was shielded and escaped." 

" Marathon is another place with a history," remarked the Colonel. 
" Bv the wav, thev have struck some 

Capture of the 
robbers by the 

Marathon, 939 
miles from 
New Orleans ; 
altitude, 4,042 

N ,i,{t.'.x miohtv rich silver mines 

^^'*^-.-- ; in Mexico, about eighty miles 

southwest of here. The ore 


IS brought across the Rio 
Grande at Boquells, by team to Marathon, shipped thence in bond to Eagle 
Pass, and from there to Monterey where it is smelted." 

" But that isn't the history, is it, papa ? " asked the Girl. 

" No, the story I had in mind deals with the courage and devotion of a Thestor>'ot 

a woman s 

woman," replied the Colonel. "W. T. Henderson, who formerly lived here, courage and 

1 1-1 11- rr.1 devotion. 

was extensively engaged in the stock business. 1 here was great temptation 
to smuggle cattle or horses across the Rio Grande, because, while steers in 
this country might be worth $20.00 a head, in Mexico they could be bought 
for six or seven dollars. It was the same with horses. There was a duty 
of something like $15.00 a head, and a man was making money pretty fast 
who could run them over without encountering the custom-house authorities. 
The river forms the frontier for 1,300 miles, and while the revenue officers 
and river guard are vigilant and brave, there are not enough of them to 
form an effectual cordon. In October, 1893, Henderson was arrested for 
having eighty-seven head of smuggled horses in his possession. I should 
not like to say, of course, that he knew they were smuggled, but anyhow 
he was sentenced to two years in Kings county prison in New York. Just 


before his conviction at El Paso for the offense referred to, his wife was the 
heroine of a remarkable exploit. She had been a school teacher in Mara- 
shewas thon before her marriage, and in addition to being a bright and cultivated 

agun. ^ ^* woman, was very 'handy,' as they say hereabouts, with a Winchester. Hen- 
derson and one of his Mexican cowboys were on the other side of the river, 
herding some cattle, when thirteen soldiers of the sister republic, detailed 
to protect certain American ranchmen there, who were enemies of Hender- 
son, made an atack upon that gentleman, and drove him into a canon in 
the mountains. Here the pursued held the soldiers at bay for a time, but 
finding his ammunition running low, the vaquero slipped out, evaded the 
soldiers, and rode to Marathon, where he notified Mrs. Henderson of the 
situation. The Mexican was too much exhausted to return, and she took 
Anightrideoi a supply of ammunition and started alone to her husband's rescue. She 
the rescue. " rode the eighty miles, mostly by night, joined her husband, and together 
they fought and put to flight the thirteen soldiers, and escaped to their 
The summit of From Paisano to Marfa the road runs through the beautiful Le Sano 
Route.^gs^t Pass of the Santa del Muerto Mountains for fourteen miles. Paisano is the 

New^oHeans. summit of the Sunsct Route, glorying in an altitude of 5,082 feet. The 
whole pass varies but little from this high altitude. On either hand the 
precipitous bluffs rise at an acute angle thirteen hundred feet higher. 
Their steep sides are covered with a dense growth of live oaks that makes 
a shimmering carpeting of living green all the year. The scenery is 
In the Van exquisitc throughout the entire distancc. From Marfa to Sierra Blanca — 
ey. ,.jjj.^g^y miles — the line follows the great Van Home Valley. The spurs of 
the Eagle Mountains are on the left — the Caresas or Santa del Muerto's 
on the right — and the valley, maintaining an average width of twenty 
miles, is as level as a floor, the elevation above the sea being 4,512 feet at 
the highest point and 4,012 at the lowest. The soil is as fertile as any in 
the world, but the absence of water makes it unproductive. At Fay, almost 
A deep well. midway of the valley, the Southern Pacific sank a well to a depth of 2,012 
feet, but secured even then a very indifferent flow of the much sought fluid. 
This is the favorite grazing ground of the antelope, and often herds of them 
can be seen from the car window. 
Sierra Blanca. "Sierra Blanca, just east of which is the monument marking the 120th 

and the murder . ,. . , , . . i ■ i . i i • • i 11 

of Howard. meridian of west longitude, is associated with the historic tragedy which 
culminated with the mas.sacre of Charley Howard and others, in December, 
1877," remarked the (Irowler. "It was an atrocity that will never be for- 
gotten throughout all this region. Howard had achieved a good deal of 
distinction and had been judge of the Twentieth judicial district. He had 
necessarily incurred political and other enmities. His bitterest enemy was 
a prominent Italian named Cardise, who had defeated him as delegate to the 



constitutional convention of 1876. Their animosity culminated in a shoot- 
ing affray in Schut's store, in El Paso, in which Cardise was killed. This 
would not have aroused the populace of the country had it not been for 
another circumstance. North of Sierra Blanca are extensive salt lakes to 
which the Mexicans had been in the habit of resorting for generations. 
Howard had acquired control of the adjacent property and objected to the 
natives running over it. They were very bitter ^^■^^SmSSP^-^ on this 

account. After the killing of Cardise, Howard x^:ya^'^ <?^-y-g^??gi|^»^\ went 
to Mexico for a time, and when he 
returned on his way to attend court at 
Fort Davis, he learned, after passing 
San Elizario, that a large party of Mexi- 
cans had assembled for the purpose of 
waylaying him. He turned back to San 
Elizario, which we will pass twenty 
miles east of El Paso, and sought the 
protection of a company of rangers 
stationed there. The Mexicans pur- 
sued Howard, and gathered in the town 
five or six hundred strong. Howard and 
the rangers retreated to the corral and 
held their assailants at bay for four or 
five days, a desultory fight being kept up 
all the time. During this time Charley 
Ellis, a resident of the place who had 
not retreated to the corral, was caught, interior of the old church at juarez. 
killed and his body thrown into a well where it was found many days after- 
ward. At the end of five days communication was established between the 
two forces, and on the promise that their lives should be spared the 
beleaguered party surrendered. Disregarding their pledge the Mexicans at 
once proceeded to a viva-voce trial of their prisoners to determine whether 
they should be executed or not. The verdict in Howard's case, the first one 
to be tried, was death, and he was immediately led to a stone wall and 
ridtlletl witli bullets. A Mexican named Desedario Appadoca sprang forward 
as he fell, and placing his bare foot upon the dead man's breast, aimed a 
blow at his throat with a macheta for the purpose of cutting his head off, but 
the stroke was misdirected, and Appadoca's great toe was cut off instead. 
John McBride was the next man tried. When he surrendered the Mexicans 
had taken $1 1,000 which was in his possession. He was condemned to death, 
and after being jeered at when he reminded them of the promised protec- 
tion, he indignantly exclaimed: 'Shoot, then, damn you, and shoot high.' 
The shots from the first volley struck him in the abdomen, and he called 

Shot his 

Brought to 
bay at San 

Imposing the 
death sentence 
by popular 

" Shoot, damn 
you, and shoot 


out: 'Shoot higher, you infernal cowards.' The next volley piercetl his 
breast, but as he lay upon the ground, torn by a score of bullets, he raised 
himself a little and pointed to his head. A blaze of rifles followed, and at 
last he was dead. Charlie Atkinson was next shot to death, and then, sick 
of the cruel slaughter, the Mexican leader checked his atrocious followers, 
and declared that if another life was taken it should be his. The Mexicans 
dispersed soon after, most of them crossing to their native soil, and though 
several hundred indictments were returned none of the murderers were 
ever brought to trial." 

"Oh, how horrible!" said the Girl. "And do these awful things happen yet ?" 
"Oh, no," replied the Growler; "they belong to the past of the country. They belong to 
before society had become organized. This was the history of all new ^^^ o"?ago. 
countries. To-day life is as safe in Texas as anywhere, and a man can 
travel all over it unarmed and secure." 

"While we are on the subject," said the Colonel, "it was just fifteen An eariv 
miles north of the little station of Fay that the Graham family was mur- massacre 
dered by the Victorio band of Apaches in June, 1880. Mr. and Mrs. "^^*^ ^^ 
Graham were in a wagon train and on their way to Silver City, then in the 
heyday of its prosperous boom. They, with their wagons, were cut off 
from the rest of the party and killed in Bass' Canon, named after Sam Bass, 
a famous Texas outlaw of early days. General Grierson, in command of 
the 10th Cavalry, took up the pursuit of the Apaches, and on August 2d 
had a fight with them at the eighteen-mile water-hole west of Eagle 
Springs. During the night the redskins broke camp and escaped, heading 
for the Guadalupe Mountains, in whose fastnesses they would have been 
comparatively safe from pursuit. But General Grierson, by a forced night 
march, headed them off and drove them across the Rio Grande at Fort 
Quitman. A month later the Mexican troops fell upon the band and anni- 
hilated them. After the Indians had been tlriven into Mexico, Major J. R. 
Livermore, in command of Troop K of the 8th Cavalry, operating with 
General Grierson, did some engineering work in this part of Texas, and 
among other things measured, in September, 1880, the peak which bears The measuring 

, . ^ , .' , . . . . , ,^ • of Livermore's 

his name, and which it so conspicuous, towering over against the Quitman Peak. 
Mountains, seen beyond Sierra Iilanca. It is the highest on the Sunset 
Line, rising to a height of 8,200 feet. 

" Here's Malone Station ; come out on the platform, and see the horse- 
shoe curve," said the Colonel. 

The horseshoe is one of the most remarkable pieces of engineering on The great 
this ])art of the road. On the wild sweep of broken and mountain-hemmed curve near 
l^laiii it describes an almost complete circle — a ten-degree curve with a one 
per cent grade all the way. It is a mile arountl, and after forming the loop 
is less than two hundred yards between tracks. 



Where the 
Mission grape 

Ysleta and its 
quaint Indian 

A tradition 
and an 

For fifty miles on each side of El Paso is a country susceptible, with irri- 
gation, of the highest cultivation. It is the natural home of the Mission 
grape, which from the peculiarities of soil and atmosphere and climate here 
takes on a flavor equaled by no other grown elsewhere. These grapes 
were originally brought from Spain by the early Catholic priests, and have 
flourished here ever since. Much wine was once made in the region, but 
now so great is the demand for the product for table use that almost all are 
shipped for that purpose as they ripen. The average altitude of the district 

is 3,700 feet, but beside the vine, all varieties of 
fruit, including quinces, peaches and pears, grow 
to perfection. 

At Ysleta, a quaint town of adobe houses set 
down in broad green fields and shady orchards, an 
ancient irrigating system shows what can be done 
with even primitive agricultural methods. Here 
lives the remnant of an old tribe of Indians be- 
longing to the Pueblos, maintaining their language, 
Catholic in their belief, but preserving their ancient 
traditions in spite of the innovation in their faith, 
and celebrating, with weird rites and spectral 
fires upon the mountain tops, the season of harvest 
and of sowing. They keep to themselves, and 
will take no part in any mining, tho' credited with 
a knowledge as to the location of rich and virgin 
veins. The story goes that when the Spaniards 
conquered Mexico, the forefathers of these Indians 
of Ysleta were among the natives who were confined in the silver mines and 
compelled to work, ill fed and oppressed by a slavery that was the death of 
thousands. After the Spaniards were driven out, the aborigines entered 
into a compact never to show a mine to any one nor to work in one them- 
selves. They even filled with dirt and rocks the old shafts which were the 
scenes of their sufferings, and planted trees and cacti over them to hide all 
traces of their existence. And the traveler who looks out of his window at 
the bronzed and stolid faces in the fields must wonder whether under those 
grim and expressionless features is hidden a memory of their wrongs and 
the secret of wealth locked up in the somber hills that buttress- the world 






UNDER the shadow of iVIt. Franklin, and with the blue peaks of the 
Organ, Hueco and Guadalupe Mountains grimly guarding it on 
the north and east, and the Sierra Madre standing like a wall far off to the 
south — girdled about by the turbid Rio Grande, and fringed with a scat- 
tered tracery of low adobes — El Paso stands as the .«^i»*_ 
western gateway to Mexico. Across the river is the old 
Mexican town of Ciudad Juarez, or Paso del Norte, 
as it was set down in the geographies of our boy- 
hood. In its ancient church built more than three 
hundred years ago, and dedicated now to the Lady 
of Guadalupe, the worshipers come and go as they 
have for ten generations, kneeling or crouching 
picturesquely upon the puncheon floor, in the dim 
light and before the tinseled altar with its twink- 
ling tapers. On the rude walls are the pictures 
of saints, and above is the ceiling of wondrously 
carved logs that were carried in on the backs of 
burros. Overhead in the squat tower, surmounted 
by a tall cross, the clamor of harsh bells rings out, 
to be softened into faint melody as the sound is borne to the fields beyond, 
where the humble tiller of the soil looks up from his work to reverently 
cross himself. Here, for sixty years, Cour Ortiz has said mass and done 
good deeds of charity among his simple flock, and with his kindly face will 
greet you heartily, if you go that wyy. 

There is a wonderland all about El Paso that the uninformed tourist 
wots not of. Indeed, it is yet a sealed book, but to the few. To the north 
and northeast, in New Mexico, are wild mountam chains with snow-capped 
summits, twelve thousand feet in height, clad to the verdure line with the 
long-leaf yellow pine, with spruce and cedar, junij^er and oak. Game 
abounds, and the swift streams are filled with trout. It is a region wonder- 
fully rich in mineral, with vast deposits of gypsum, gold, silver, lead, copper, 


El Paso, the 
gateway to 
Mexico, 1,194 
miles from 
New Orleans. 


Is the ancient 
church of 

The fruitful 
land you do not 
see from the 



Wealth locked 
up in the 

Don't think of 
El Paso as a 
slow place. 

You can have 
any kind of 
time you want. 

nickel, coal, salt, crystalized borax, sulphur, etc. Under the spurs of the 
Sacramento Mountains, Tiffany, the New York jeweler, owns a turquois 
mine so rich that two men working in it sixty days each year bring to the 
surface $25,000.00 worth of the precious stone, and for the rest of the year, 
lest the market be overstocked, the mine remains locked up. In the shel- 
tered valleys of this region fruits and every field product grow abundantly. 
One hundred and twenty-five miles southwest, in the Valley of Corralltas, 
in the Sierra Madres, is another region of wealth, where the richest silver 
and copper veins await development. Of this region, of which El Paso is 
the commercial center, comprising the states of Chihuahua, Soiiora and 
Durango, in Mexico, and of Arizona and New Mexico, in the United States,. 
Humboldt said it included the greatest and most varied mineral deposits in 
the world. 

El Paso, with its present population of 11,000, was first connected with 
the world by rail when the Southern Pacific reached there May 13, 1881. 
It is now the most progressive, substantial and enterprising city between 
San Antonio and the coast, and the progress of its past is only a foreshad- 
owing of the greatness of its future. Everything about it is modern, its 
superb business blocks, handsome Federal building, its homes, its shops and 
stores, its municipal administration. And in addition to all this, it has the 
best climate in the world for people suffering from pulmonary affections. 

The only thing perplexing about El Paso is the time. It has four brands 
of time, and the citizen takes his choice. They used to have four or five 

other varieties, but so many people became insane 
in the attempt to keep their 
watches right and 


meet a[)|)uintnients that now they have only four. Between New Orleans 
and El Paso Central time is adhered to, Pacific time from there west. The 
difference is two hours, so if you arrive at El Paso at 11. 15 A. M. and wait 
there an hour and three-quarters, you still get away at 11.00 A. M., and 
experience no delay. Then there is local time and Mexican time besides. 

This Valley of the Rio Grande, of which El Paso is a little north of the 
center, extends from Rincon to the Quitman Mountains — a distance of 190- 

EL PASO. 101 

miles, and with an average width of three. At present it has a population Thevaiieyof 
of about sixty thousand people. With irrigation its fine alluvial soil will Grande, 
support millions. There are several propositions for more extensive irri- 
gating schemes than are now used. 

We were all glad that our train stopped here long enough for the Colonel 
to introduce us to Judge J. F. Crosby, who fortunately happened to be at 
the station, and we were glad to chat with him about the early life of the 

"This was all known as Ponce's ranch when I came here in May, 1852," The story of 
remarked the Judge. "It was the property of a somewhat distinguished time^s^*^^ 
Mexican named Ponce de Leon. A few Americans had preceded me, drift- 
ing here after the close of the Mexican War when General Sterling Price 
and Colonel Donaphan had marched through here. The old adobe buildings 
of the hacienda were clustered close to where the Southern Pacific depot 
now stands. Franklin Kuntz had bought the ranch in 1850, but failed to 
pav for it. and after the death of Ponce, in 1857, the estate was purchased 
bv W. T. Smith. In the same year I was elected Judge of all the territory 
lying west of the Pecos River. In 1859 I organized a syndicate of St. Louis The real-estate 

• 1 11 1 1 • 1 rr r ■ ' i ryi mail appears 

parties, bought the estate and laid ori forty acres in town lots. 1 he coming onthescene. 
on of the war balked our financial venture for the time, but in spite of all 
vicissitudes the place throve." 

" Pretty rough in those days, was it not. Judge ? " I asked. 

"Well," said the Judge, with a sly glance at the Girl, " I was married in Abndaitour 

„, ,." .,.' ^ . _ , . for your life. 

Austin in 1856, and it required a journey of sixty-five days for my seventeen- 
year-old bride and myself to reach home." 

"What a wedding trip! " exclaimed the Girl. 

" Yes, and it was one made exciting by the constant menace of hostile 
Apaches, as well as irksome by the cruel jolting of the wagons." was the 
reply. "Between the years 1852 and 1862 I crossed the plains twenty-two 
times, and never made the trip in less than fifty days. Now you think noth- 
ing of going from New Orleans to San Francisco on the ' Sunset Limited ' 
in seventy-seven hours, with sumptuous palace cars at your disposal, a perfect 
cuisine, library, barber shop and smoking compartments; you go to bed vourscaipis 
when you feel disposed and get up when you please, knowing that perfect traveTnow.^ 
service to satisfy all needs awaits you, but we had the rough experience of 
jolting wagons or stages, camp-fire cooking, constant menace from warlike 
Indians, and often a scarcity of palatable water." 

"How did you keep in touch with the outside world ? " I asked. 

" Fairly well," replied the Judge. "We did not then seem to need the Thisistheway 
daily telegraphic report. The first mail service we had brought in the mail from the rest ot 
every two months. Then it was made monthly, and finally, at the break- ^ 
ing out of the war. made semi-weekly from San Antonio to Fort Smith. 



The mail route — by stage, of course — was from Sail Antonio to Fort 
Clarke, then to Fort Hudson, on Devil's River, thence to Fort Lancaster, 
near where the Southern Pacific now crosses the Pecos, then up that stream 
and westerly to Fort Stockton, then on to Fort Davis, ten miles from the 
present site of Marfa, then to Fort Quitman, San Elsiana, Fort Bliss and 
El Paso. Six or eight guards were carried on the mail coaches and the 
passengers, who were all armed, were expected to take their turn at guard 


duty. In 1852 there was not a human habitation from Fort Clarke, 130 
miles west of San .\ntonio, to El Paso. The Apaches, Comanches and 
Mescalero Indians roamed the plairts, and no one went beyond the outskirts 
of the settlements without the menace of massacre." 

" But there must have been plenty of business of some sort here to draw 
Americans," I ventured. 

"An immense traffic grew up," was the reply. "Long wagon trains 
came in from Independence, Missouri, over the Santa Fe trail. These were 
loaded with dry goods, groceries and hardware, and here met the equally 
extensive .shipments of bullion and other products of Mexico. It was not 
unusual for a single store to sell $100,000 worth of goods in a day, and 
Money was the money was actually more plentiful than any of the commodities demanded 
^^mnfod'Uy^^"* in daily living. We paid fifty cents per pound for coffee, sugar and rice; 
twenty-five cents a yard for calicoes and domestics, and twenty dollars a 
pair for boots." 

" What was the character of your population then. Judge ?" I asked. 
Thefeiiow "Border outlaws were numerous and vicious, for when the vigilance 

wasthfre" committees drove them out of California thev sought this as neutral ground. 



They did not steal, were deferential to women and lenient with men of 
family, but shooting and killing affrays were of daily occurrence, and mur- 
derers were seldom, if ever, convicted ; for it was an understood principle 
that as each man knew what was likely to occur and went prepared, he con- 
stituted a law unto himself. Yet, even in that lawless era, property was so 
secure and honor so highly esteemed that there was not a safe in the coun- 
try, and mortgages were unknown. The failure to pay a debt or meet an 
obligation, when it matured, was tantamount to ostracism and compelled 
the defaulter to leave." 

" There is a fact in Judge Crosby's life which should be remembered," was with the 
said the Colonel, reflectively; ''because it is a curious circumstance, and five'years ^^ ^' 
perhaps a unique one. He was the attorney of the Southern Pacific Rail- bum.^''^^^ 
way Company thirty-five years before it was built." 

The Judge smiled, and replied : "That is true, and the circumstance is 
a peculiar one. The Southern Pacific was the first of the transcontinental 
railways to be projected. The proposition took shape durnig the adminis- 
tration of Franklin Pierce, in 1853, when Jefferson Davis was Secretary of 
War. The latter took much interest in it, and Senators Rusk and Houston 
were its earnest advocates. The company was organized in New York, 
and John C. Fremont was sent to France to float the bonds. In the Te.xas 



legislature of 1854, of which I was a member, a charter was granted, Levy 
S. Chatfield, of New York, the president of the company, being in Austin 
to help influence the members. After the close of the session I was 
employed as attorney for the road at El Paso, and instructed to investigate 
the probable resources of the country tributary to the line. For this pur- 
pose I made an extensive trip into Mexico, as well as through Arizona and 
New Mexico, and duly forwarded my report to the capitalists interested. 
A controversy over the bond issue, and the coming on of the war, delayed 



Time squared 
the account. 

An Indian 
fighter with a 

Where the 
boundary line 

The Santa F6 

A pleasant 
walk of 2,000 

the actual work of construction and led to the disorganization of the orig- 
inal company, but twenty-five years later, in 1870, I was instrumental in 
helping to build the old 'I'exas & New Orleans R. R. from Houston to the 
Sabine River, and it afterwards became a link in the great Southern Pacific 
system as it exists to-day." 

"There is a typical frontiersman," said the Girl, pointing to a bronzed, 
wiry looking man who had just ridden up to the depot. 

"That," said the Growler, " is George Herold, one of the noted Indian 
fighters of the West. You can find many men like him hereabouts, and 
their lives would read like romances of the most vividly yellow-backed 
order. He spent twenty years as a scout and Indian fighter, part of the 
time employed by the United States, and part by the Mexican government. 
He has been shot a dozen times. He was present at the fight in which 
Victorio was killed in the Custac Mountains, two hundred miles southwest 
of El Paso. In that memorable encounter ninety-eight Indians were killed 
and ninety-four captured, and the most desperate band of Apaches thus 
quieted. Herold was the first man to reach Victorio after he fell, and took 
his scalp, which he carried to the City of Mexico, where the government 
paid him $250 for it, as they did for all Indian scalps at that time. He 
scouted after Geronimo twice, and was with Lieutenant Finley at the time 
of his capture." 

Three miles out of El Paso, set down among the sand bluffs, is the great 
smelter of the Consolidated Kansas City Smelting and Refining Co., and but 
a little further on one catches sight, in the river bottom and on the distant 
hilltop, of the first and second of those stone monuments which mark the 
boundary between the two countries, and which are set down every few 
miles from here to the Pacific Ocean. 

" No more graphic story of suffering could be written," said the Colonel, 
"than that which was enacted hereabouts in 1841. Under the presidency 
of Mirabeau B. Lamar, of the Texas republic, an expedition, composed of 
some 350 adventurers, was fitted out at Austin, then the extreme western 
limit of settlement, to establish trade relations with the people in this sec- 
tion. Texas claimed the country, and so did Mexico. The expedition, 
after suffering untold hardships, and being subject to continuous harassing 
of the Indians until their number was reduced to two hundred, fell into the 
hands of the Mexicans, who marched them to the City of Mexico, more 
than two thousand miles away, where the survivors were imprisoned. The 
horrors of that march are indescribable. P>efore starting on their long 
journey the prisoners were paraded on the plaza of the little town of San 
Miguel, and two of their number shot as a sort of object-lesson. These 
poor fellows were compelled to kneel and be shot in the back, by a file of 
soldiers at six paces. One of them, Howland by name, had his ear and a 



portion of his clieek cut off by a sword, and, though bloody and disfigured, showed them 

111 11 1 • 1 1 ' T T 1 1 1 ' 1 ■ 1 lio^' 3 man 

walked proudly to his death. He was thus murdered while protesting could die. 
against the indignity of dying 'face to rear,' but with a firm 'good-bye. 
boys,' upon his lips. 

" The story of the weary tramp to Paso del Norte (now El Paso), with its 
accompaniment of brutalities, the lack of food and clothing, of hunger, 
would be long in telling. These ^,^ 


almost entirely upon the charity of the noble women of the country through 
which they passed for food and succor. The crowning atrocities of the 
creature Salazar, who was in command of the guard, were perpetrated to the 
northeast of where the Southern Pacific Railroad crosses the Rio Grande, 
and during the few days marches before arriving at El Paso. A man named Tooktheirears 

T^ ,-irr- 1 ■ TT- rr 1 as vouchers. 

Earnest died of latigue and starvation. His ears were cut oft and care- 
fully preserved, as evidence of the fact that he had not escaped. 

"Shortly afterwards something even more horrible occurred. A tall 
Tennesseean, by the name of McAllister, had sprained his ankle, and was 
besides so exhausted and footsore as to be incapacitated from further 
marching. McAllister declared his inability to proceed on foot. Salazar 
drew his sword and peremptorily ordered him to hurry on ; and this when 
there were half a dozen led mules, upon either of which he could have 
placed the unfortunate man. Again McAllister, pointing to his swollen and 
inflamed ankle, declared himself unable to walk. Once more the blood- 
thirsty savage, pointing to the main body of the prisoners, ordered the 
cripple to hurry forward and overtake them. He could not. 'Forward,' Murdered 
said Salazar, now wrought up to a fit of frenzy; ' Forward, or Ell shoot you couidn'twaik. 
on the spot.' 

'' 'Then shoot,' replied McAllister, throwing off his blanket and exposing 
his breast; 'and the (juicker the better.' 

" Salazar took him at his word, and a single ball sent as brave a man as 
ever trod the earth to eternitv. His ears were then cut ot'f his shirt and 



Knocked his 
brains out this 

pantaloons stripped from him, and his body thrown by the wayside as food 
for the wolves. 

"Another man named Golpin, a merchant, who had joined the expedi- 
tion with a small amount of goods, was shot by the rear guard for no other 
reason than that he was too sick and weak to keep up. 

" Yet another instance : A man named Griffith, who had been wounded 
by the Indians, too lame and weak to go further, sank down. A soldier 
told him to rise. He made a last feeble but ineffectual effort, casting an 
imploring look at the soldier, and while doing so the miscreant knocked his 
brains out with a musket. His blanket was torn from him, as the reward 
of his murderer, his ears cut off, and he was thrown by the roadside, another 
feast for the buzzards and wolves. These atrocities are facts testified to by 
more than two hundred witnesses. 

And such as 
these made 


'•'A few miles out from El Paso, about where the smelter now stands, 
yet -another poor devil succumbed to the hardships. His body was stripped, 
Salazar taking his usual voucher as evidence of his not having escaped. 

"Arriving in El Paso, or rather* Paso del Norte, now known as Juarez, 
the prisoners were treated by the whole population with exceeding kindness. 
Salazar was removed from the command and imprisoned. The journey 
from El Paso to the City of Mexico was, as compared with the horrors 
endured before, but an evening promenade." 



- — TN a few minutes after leaving the smelter the Across New 

' ^^^^^^^^ X train passes over the iron bridge of the Rio 

^^vHHH^|L. Grande, and the tourist is in New Mexico, across 
m '^^^5^^ "-'^^ southwestern corner of which the road runs 

If "i / ^mk '^'^^ some 250 miles. For a long time the track 

T^i \ ' y ''Wm follows closely the windings of the river, amid 
blue lines of hills, while far-off high peaks stand 
like solitary sentinels. Then yellow and white 
sand plains intervene, clad in scant verdure of 
cacti, spear-grass and mesquite. 
A NATIVE OF THE COUNTRY. " What a bcautlf ul lake ! " exclaimed the 

Girl, suddenly. " See its little islands and the 
fringe of cool-looking trees along the shore." 

The Colonel laughed softlv. "You will see charming lakes from now on The mirage 

. shows up. 

at intervals until we get across the desert of the Colorado, well mto Cali- 
fornia," said he. " They are such stuff as dreams are made of. There is 
no water here, no dreamy isles, no fringe of foliage, nothing but the desert 
sands and the palpitating air that makes the illusion. Your lake is a 
mirage, and you will see many such." 

"The people scarcely know what the possibilities of the territory are," a territory 

1.1 ^ 1 '/,-r-r 1-- • ^ -ix-n- few know 

remarked the Growler. "Her hmits comprise some seventy-eight million much about. 

acres, and the population is perhaps two hundred thousand. It has great 

valleys, susceptible of the highest cultivation, and its fruit and live-stock 

interests are as extensive as its mining and timber industries. The wool 

clip of 1894 was over twelve million 'pounds, the coal fields are extensive, 

the timber districts vast and profitable. Besides, it is a land of blue skies 

and sunshine, where in winter it is not uncomfortably cool in the sun and in 

summer never disagreeably warm in the shade, where the dryness of the 

climate is not intermittent but perpetual, and the average relative humidity a climate that 

^ . , . ... .is death to 

is from twenty-nine to forty-three per cent, agamst sixty-nme per cent in microbes. 
Boston and seventy-three per cent in Buffalo. Practically the climate is the 
same as Arizona, where, in the Salt River Valley, the average spring tem- 




as humorous a 
Pioneer justice A Mexican whom 

in Donna Ana 

he was well 


The attorney 
makes a grave 

rather touchy 
man whom 

perature is 70", summer go'^, autumn 73°, winter 56°; highest ever recorded, 
115°, lowest 22°, average annual 72°." 

" We are just now in Donna Ana county," said the Colonel. " It extends 
from the boundary line almost to Deming, and was for a good many years 
a pretty wild region. There was a trial here /at one time which had about 

denouement as I recall. 
I will call Dorengo, as 
related and his kin are 
about him yet, killed a 
\ he had forbidden to 
meet his daughter ; just 
took a double-barreled 
shotgun and went into a 
neighbor's house, where 
the young fellow was 
sitting with the girl on 
his lap, and blew the top 
of his head off. Colonel 
Rynerson was prosecut- 
ing attorney at the time, 
and Colonel Fountain 
was employed by the 
defense, thus putting the 
two leading criminal lawyers 
against each other in a bat- 
tle royal. 
" Colonel Fountain soon found 
that if he relied on facts and evi- 
l „ dence to clear or even postpone the 
fate of his client, he would be 'up a 
tree,' so he cast about for other means 
of getting his man off, but apparently 
to no purpose. 

"At last the day of the trial came, 
and the court-room was crowded. The 
examination of the witnesses- for the 
prosecution was over, and Colonel Fountain arose and addressed the court. 
Said he: ' May it please the court, if any one had told me that an attorney 
of the standing and reputation of Colonel Rynerson would stoop so low for 
the sake of the paltry praise that might come to him for the conviction of 
my poor client here as to browbeat and intimidate my witnesses, suborn 
others — I say it bolcjly — and thus procure the absence of any testimony 




which might be used in our favor, I should have repelled the accuser and 
his accusation with scorn, but here I stand without a witness to-day, and 
the attorney for the prosecution knows why.' 

"With that Colonel Rynerson sprang to his feet shouting: 'It's a d — d 
lie,' and leaped at Colonel Fountain. 

" Both men were old frontiersmen and ex-officers of the famous California 
Legion, who had each gained fame for personal bravery during the war, and 
had added to their reputation for courage in the turbulent years that suc- 
ceeded the close of the conflict, and every one in the court-room was on 
tiptoe to see the two men come together, for they knew that blood would 
flow. The sheriff and his deputies crowded between them and pandemo- 
nium reigned for a time, when Colonel Fountain was heard addressing the 
court. Quiet was in a measure restored, and the Colonel said : 

"'Your honor, I am at a loss to understand the violent language and the 
threatening attitude of the attorney for the prosecution toward me, as I am 
not conscious of having said anything calculated to provoke any such 

"' In the name of Jupiter Ammon, if such charges as you just made were 
not sufficient provocation, what would you think would be, you infernal 
hound?' roared Colonel Rynerson. 

"'May it please the court,' replied Colonel Fountain, 'I think your honor 
will bear me out in , , what I am about to say ; that 

It is prompUy 
resented and 
bloodshed is 

Feigns a 


and the 


is, I made no charges against Colonel Rynerson. So far from it was I 
that I stated that if any one had brought such accusations agai^ist him I 
should have indignantly refused to listen, and I further started to say that 
I was without a witness for the defense to-day, and the prosecution was 
aware of the fact that it was simply because we had none to bring, and that 
we would rest our case and rely upon the mercy of the court, when Colonel 



But the 
prisoner had 

Rynerson sprang up and interrupted me and all this uproar began. I am : 

sure if anything I said has unintentionally on my part wounded the feelings ] 

of Colonel Rynerson, he will accept my sincere regrets and count it unsaid.' j 

"Colonel Rynerson declared himself fully satisfied with the explanation I 
made by Colonel Fountain, who also expressed his own regret at having 

been touched so easily, hoping his words, used in the heat of passion, would I 

be forgotten. The case was then taken up, and as Colonel Fountain arose j 

to announce formally that the case for the defense would rest, the Judge i 

Aset of curious 

and early 


cried : '\\here is the prisoner?' All eyes turned to the dock, but it was 
empty. There is a statutory provision in New Mexico that no man shall be 
brought to trial in irons. He must be absolutely free in the court-room, 
subject only to the vigilance of the officers. 

" During the intense excitement, when every eye was straining in the 
direction of the belligerent attorneys, the prisoner had quietly walked out 
of the room, and by a strange coincidence found a fast horse awaiting him, 
and by a set of similar coincidences, he found such a horse about every five 
miles until the Mexican border and safety were reached. 

" Rynerson always said that was one of the shrewdest legal moves he ever 
knew of being resorted to." 

" Didn't you tell me the old Spaniards explored this region in a very 
early day, papa?" asked the Girl. 

''Yes, and we have in our whole national area no section more fraught 
with picturesque adventure. About 1530, when Nuno de Guzman was gov- 


ernor of New Spain, word was first given to the world of this region. It 
was called the country of the Seven Cities, and was reputed to be fabulously 
rich. Guzman tried to explore it and dismally failed. Then eight years 
later Alvar Nunes Cabeza de Baca and three companions, survivors of the 
unfortunate expedition of Navarez for the conquest of Florida, wandered 
overland to Culiacan, bringing tidings of the region. In 1540 came 
Coronado, with whose name all the region is associated, and from whose Theremainsof 
explorations we have learned so much of its early life. He came with three 
hundred adventurous cavaliers and eight hundred friendly Indians, 
and spent a couple of years campaigning through the region, sub- 
duing the belligerent natives, establishing posts and writing in his 
reports a very fair account of things as he discovered 
them. He found, in the great pueblos then existing, 
an industrious race who raised maize, beans, cotton 
and pumpkins, wove their own clothing, made pottery, 
lived under a well-regulated social order, and were 
disposed towards the customs of civilization. From 
then on the story of the country was linked with the 
narrative of Spanish conquest. Greed for the pos- 
session of its rich mines overreached itself, and the ^ child of destiny. 
natives were continually revolting and driving their oppressors out. After 
the region fell into the possession of the United States under the Gadsden 
Purchase a new' era dawned, and to-day its resources are bemg developed 
by a far-sighted and energetic race, who are building here a great common- 

Beyond Deming — an advantageously situated point, with branch lines Deming, 1,283 

1" -vT 1 1 r--i' 1 .-1, miles from 

northeast to Nutt and northwest to Silver — is the same succession of high New Orleans 

plains with scant vegetation. Water is easily obtained, but not always feet^ '°^ '''^^'* 

good, a strong alkali impregnation sometimes destroying its palatability. 

At Deming, however, splendid water is found at a depth of forty feet. At 

Lordsburg the railroad draws its supply from the mountains, piping the 

useful fluid for a distance of more than four miles. Beyond Lordsburg 

the road bisects Playes, Animas and San Simon Valleys, and between san simon 

o • . T, , IT , ,• • Valley and 

Stems Pass and Vanarman crosses the line into Arizona. The rugged stein's Pass 
grandeur of the scenery at Stein's Pass is refreshing. The bold crags rise 
on the right in pinnacles of red rock, seamed and disjointed by the weather- 
wear of centuries. On the left the valley opens out with receding lines of 
purpling hills that grow fainter and fainter upon the far horizon. Looking 
off across San Simon Valley one sees in the far southwest, where the sky-line 
meets the earth, the outlines of a great face turned upward. The profile 
is called "Cochise's Head," and has long been a landmark. Cochise was the 
greatest of that long line of Apache chiefs whose fame upon the border lin- 



Those herds ot 
cattle graze 

Cacti— the 
fruit and 
timber of the 

gers in traditions of their subtlety and cruelty. With a Napoleonic regard 
for strategy, and with an absolute knowledge of the mountain fastnesses he 
inhabited, he combined a marvelous control of the people he ruled. Over 
beyond the range, whose rocky profile outlines his face against the sky, is 
a great cavern where the scattered remnants of his tribe yet resort to 
invoke with weird ceremony the spirit of their great leader, and amid wild 
incantations renew the allegiance which once, in their days of power, gave 
them undisputed possession of a wide region. 

" Looks dry, don't it ? " I said, as the train bowled along. 
"Looks that way," replied the Growler, "but it isn't. Here, at San 
Simon, is the center of a vast cattle interest. The San Simon Cattle Com- 
pany alone has a herd of 75,000 head. Back in 
all these valleys there is good grazing, the nutri- 
tious gama grass growing everywhere. Off there 
to the south, in the Chiricahua Mountains — 


great piles of syenite, paleozoic strata and porphyry — was the favorite 
rendezvous of the latest bad Apache Indian, the Arizona Kid, to whose 
door all the depredations of stray scoundrels has been laid." 

" ^V'hat wonderful cacti ! " exclaimed the Girl, enthusiastically. "How 
lu.xuriantly it grows, and how many varieties there are of it ! " 

"Gives the landscape a weird and grewsome sort of appearance, don't 
it?" I said. 

"A very useful plant, too," spoke the Colonel. 

" Useful ? " asked the Girl. " Why, it's only an ornament, isn't it ? " 

"Yes, with the ladies of the North who cultivate a little bulb for years, 
and are excessively proud of ihe prickly growth if it assumes the propor- 
tions of a cocoanut. Hut iicre it is quite different. You see that big 
sahaura ?' 



We looked quickly out of the window to where a great cacti reared its 
stunted head forty feet in the air — a sturdy, branchless, bulbous growth. 

"That," continued the Colonel, "is only one of some sixty or seventy TheCoionei 
varieties of the family. It bears in its season a large white flower, that ofthemany.*^ 
opens like a chestnut, and has inside a red, flesh-like pulp, of which the 
Mexicans and Indians are very fond. It has a sweetish, insipid flavor. The 
stalks of the sahaura are divided through their length by strong white ribs, 
which the natives use as beams for the roofs of their houses. Of the other 
members of the cacti family which you will see, is the cholla, a bush-shaped 
plant covered with white spines ; the bisnaga, low and round, and contain- 
ing no woody fiber. The spines with which the bisnaga are covered are 
barbed like a fish hook, and woe to the unwary who gets them into his flesh. 
The Mexicans cut the white pulp of the plant into small pieces, boil them 
in sugar and obtam a confection of which they are very fond. The datil Fmit and flour 
grows to a height of five or six feet, with branches that diverge at right '^^y^^^''- 
angles. Its fruit resembles a cucumber, and contains a black seed which 


the Indians grind for flour. The petella is the greatest of the fruit pro- 
ducers — you will frequently see it with twenty stems springing from a 
single root. The — " 

"Never mind, papa," the Girl broke in; "I'm sure I couldn't remember 
any more. What place is this ?" Benson, 1,458 

"Benson," replied the Colonel, a little stiffly. " It is the junction of the New Orleans. 
New Mexico & Arizona and the Arizona (\: Southeastern railroads. The ^-^^^^^^ '°" 3,578 



Canon of the 

Vails and its 
guano filled 

former runs down to Nogales, where it connects with the Sonora R. R. for 

Guayamas, and the latter runs out to the celebrated 
Copper Queen mine." From here Tombstone, the 
most famous, or shall we say notorious, town in 
all the Southwest, is reached. 

"I have always thought this a pretty bit of 

scenery," the Growler said, calling our attention 

to the Cieneta River Canon, twenty-four miles east 

of Tucson. We agreed with him, for, as the train 

whirled along the brink of the deep 

narrow gorge we could look down 

to where its turbid waters boiled far 


" Near the little station of Vails," 
the Colonel remarked, "is a curious 
dimensions filled with guano. It 
home of myriads of bats since time 
and a great deposit of fertilizer has 
The cave was opened some three or 
and a company organized to make 
some reason the venture was not 
prosecuted, and natives of new mexico. after about seventy-five car loads 
had been forwarded to Los Angeles and San Francisco operations were 

cave of great 
has been the 
four years ago 
shipments. For 





H ! we should stop here," the Growler said, as the train, passing the Tucson, 1,506 

miles from 

Territorial Universit}- and Indian School on the right, ran into the New Orleans. 
station at Tucson. " It is the quaintest old place you will find in the United {eet.^ ion 2,390 
States. The fringe of trees over there marks the windings of the Santa 

Cruz River. The mountains to the north 

and east are 


the Santa Catalina's and Rincon's, and those to the northwest the Tortola's. 
Thank goodness, the train schedule gives us time enough to get a glimpse 
of the queer place, even if we cannot spend a few days here, which would 
well repay us." 

It would not be far wrong to put down the population of Tucson at The first 

-T^u 1 • r ■ r • A • u I- impressii 

7,000. i here is a large infusion of progressive Americans, who have the place 
carried into the commercial life of the town an aggressive spirit of enter- 
prise, extended its trade into Mexico, planted manufacturing industries, 
and given it the comforts of modern municipal life. But all the bizarrie 
characteristics of quaintness adhere to it. The narrow streets are lined 




Second oldest 
city in the 
United States. 

invasion and 

The ancient 
Mission of San 
Xavier de Bac. 

with buildings whose architecture often seems mediaeval. In the residence 
portion the stolid fronts of adobes give the passer-by no idea of the ample 
and luxuriously furnished apartments within, where everything that culti- 
vated taste can suggest adds to the luxury of living. 

" What an awfully old place it must be ?" the Girl remarked 

"Well, I should say so," the Colonel replied ; "we only have one older 

in the whole country — Santa Fe. Some historians claim a settlement here 

as early as 1560. It was a Spanish and Mexican presidio, or fortified town. 

In the center was the universal plaza, surrounded by a high wall, against 

which all the 
wall was some 
resist attack 
their assailants 
Later, a fort 

houses were built, so as to face the square. The 
four feet higher than the roofs, so the natives could 
from their safe vantage point, shooting down upon 
while themselves in a measure protected, 
built outside the walls, and separate 
the presidio, gave further protection. In 
the Americans took the town, but 
"7'-''^ the fort too strong for them. In the 
of the California gold excitement 
the place became a sort of half-way 
house for immigrants from the 
South. After the war Amer- 
icans began to drift in in 
increasing numbers, and it had 
all the elements of a frontier 
camp. Soldiers, teamsters and 
* miners soaked themselves with 
the fiery poison of the mescal 
shops, and were ready for any 
deviltry. The Apaches made 
life miserable for those who 
ventured outside of the walls, or, 
rather, did not give them a 
chance to be miserable for very long 
when once they got hold of them.'' 
"And don't forget the old Mis- 
sion," the Growler remarked, sen- 

"What! more old Missions?" said the Girl. 

"Nine miles south of here is what I consider the most interesting mis- 
sion in the country," replied the Colonel; "the Mission of San Xavier. 
The best authority goes to show that the original building was constructed 
in 1690. The present structure, which occupies the same site and is prob- 



Santa Cms 

that line the Saiua Cruz River— so valicy 

ably an enlargement of the former, was begun in 176.S and finished main 
years later. The Jesuit map of 1698, which is recognized as wonderfully 
accurate, marks a mission here." 
•' Did you ever visit it ?" I asked. 

" Yes, I drove over one delightful day in early spring, through the fertile Fertility of the 
and cultivated fields 
fertile that /^ 

in seven- 
teen days, 
are p u t 
on the 

FT. l;n\\Il, 


table in less than three weeks from the 
seed, and corn tassels in a month. 
Why, these valleys are merely vast 
canons that have been filled with the debris carried down in past ages. In 
the Santa Rosa Valley borings 520 feet deep go down all the way through 
rich soil mixed with bowlders." 

"Come back to the Mission, papa," said the Girl, who saw that the 
Colonel was wandering from the subject. 

"Oh. yes. Well, as I was saying, I drove down through these fields, and Mexicans and 
across the higher plains, beyond where the road winds through low hills mecion^he 
covered with forests of giant sahaura. Here you pass sombreroed Me.xi- ""''■ 
cans with trains of loaded burros, or driving flocks of sheep, and Indian 
women carrying on their backs great loads of pottery of their own manu- 
facture. By and by the reservation of the Papago Indians is reached, their 
village of squat reed wigwams scattered over the j^lain near by the church. 
The great edifice itself seems solemn and imposing in that wide landscape, 
where the Sierreta, Rincon and St. Catalina mountains hem it about. On The Mission as 

a low, rocky, cone-shaped hill, just back of the church, a high wooden cross 
stands, outlined against the sky. The church, built of brick, is of Saracenic 

it is t(Mlay. 



V^ I. 

the six 

■ . n e of 


architecture. The front is covered with rich ornamentation in tanciful 
patterns, and a lofty bell-tower rises at each corner, one capped by a dome. 
Over the rear chapel is a large dome also. Off to the side stretches the 
cloisters, and here two sweet-faced, gentle Sisters of Charity, leaving the 
cities of the east, which were their homes, have immured themselves to teach 
two-score brown-faced Indian children. The interior of the church is in 
the form of a Latin cross, the foot being to the south, in which direction 
the edifice faces. The main altar is at the north end. The walls are 
covered with frescoes, once garish perhaps, but now subdued by time, until 
their tints blend into a harmonious color scheme. Four large paintings 
represent the Annunciation, the Visitation of the Virgin to Hli/.abeth, the 
Nativity of Christ and the Adoration of the Magi. The altar work and all 
the cornices are done in cement, as are also 
arched ceilings overhead, the main 
which is fifty feet above the floor. 
In fact, the whole mission, in all its 
details of decoration and architec- 
ture, is complete, and the edifice 
would be an ornament in any 

''I have heard the Papagos 
have always been the friends of 
the whites," I said. 

"So they have," replied the 
Growler, " and they ought to 
have some credit for it; there 
are about 600 of them living 
on the reservation the Colonel 
just mentioned. They cultivate 
a little land, and when the 
Apaches were killing the white 
settlers hereabouts, they were 
most of the fighting, and chasing 
warlike tribe on all occasions. But generation ok thk sorrnwrsT all this 
country was settled by an earlier race than any of the present Indians." 

" How do you know ? " 

"The cliffs all through these Arizona mountains are covered with hiero- 
glyphics and pictographs. The Salt and Gila River valleys are full of old 
ruins of early occupancy. There are artificial mounds hundreds of feet 
long, extensive canals for irrigating purposes, and vast debris— all a class 
of work the present races are unfamiliar with. The most wonderful— or at 
least the best known of all these ruins— lies three hours by stage north of 

Teaching ihe 
papijuso of the 

The art of 
altar waUs. 

The: friends of 
the whites for 
?oo years. 

that h.Tve 
come and 



The ruins of 
the Casa 

The ancient 
system of vast 

The remote 
age in which 
they lived. 

the station of Casa Grande (65 miles west of Tucson). Father Niza, who, 
in 1539, visited the country, heard of these ruins, which were then regarded 
with awe and veneration by the native tribes. Coronado's people visited 
them in 1540, and since then many explorers have come and gone, and left 
descriptions to tell us what they were and are. As they exist to-day they 
still show ^, the towering adobe walls that once are believed to 

have -' f^JI^HS. been seven stories in height. 

^' J 


Some of the rooms 
were thirty and forty feet long. 
Archreol();rists and ethnologists have puzzled over these ruins for ages. 
To-day, with their remains of great irrigating ditches all about them, they 
present a hard nut for scientists to crack. However, we must stand amazed 
at the extent of these ruins. One of these great canals tapped the Salt 
River on the south side near the mouth of the Verde. For three and a 
half miles it passes through an artificial gorge in the Superstition Moun- 
tains, cut out of the solid rock to a depth of a hundred feet. After passing 
the mountains it divides into four branches whose aggregate length is 120 
miles, independent of the distributing ditches. This system of canals irri- 
gated 1,600 square miles of country. The engineering is perfect." 

" And isn't there a trace of these people that would give us a clue to 
them ?■ " 

"Not even a tradition," was the reply. "We only know that at a period 
fixed by scientists as 2,000 years ago, the Bradshaw Mountains were active 
volcanoes, and the lava making its way through Black Cailon flowed into 
these canals. Still later, a great deluge flowed over McDowell Mountains, 
segregating their granite sides and depositing their wash over the upper 
valley and the canals to a depth of from three to five feet. This gives us 
testimony as to the age of these vast works, but it tells us nothing of the 



millions of people who must have on. c iived here in a high state of civil- 

" What in the world do people go to Europe to find ancient civilizations 
for, when they can get them right here at home? " exclaimed the Girl. 

" Because it is a fad," said the Growler. " It's all right to go t<. Europe, why ao. >u>ow 
of course, but it makes me have 'that tired feeling' when I see people ^nto"fir^f 
rushmg over there who have no adequate knowledge of their own country. 
There isn't any thing in history more fascinating than the story of the con- 
quest of this very region we are traveling through. There is a dramatic 
recital of Spanish occupancy reaching back 2S0 years beyond the Guada- 
lupe-Hidalgo treaty of '46. The gold and silver hungry Madrid govern- Thcromance 
ment was pretty nearly pushed out by the Indian outbreak of 1S02. the s^ni'-^ 
Mexican revolution twenty years later, and the Apache uprising of 1827. «^p»°^ 
The country became a wilderness almost, until from 1S45 to i860 hardy 
settlers forced their way into the rich valleys, established homes and begen 
developing again the resources of the 

country. Tl^^.^ our war 


on, protec- 
HE CASA GRANDK RciNs IN ARIZONA tlon was wlthdnuvn, the 

Apaches swooped down, and it took ten years to undo their work and begin 
again the building of a commonwealth. Now here's an empire as large as 
the six New England states with New York thrown in. Its climate, Arizona as it u 
scenery and fauna are so varied that they appeal to every interest. All 
the semi-tropical plants grow in the southern valleys, while the peaks of its 
northern mountains are clad in perpetual snow. Here is the awe-inspiring 
Cafion of the Colorado, the greatest and most mavelous cleft in the 
mountains of the world. You can see a petrified forest here, with the Thcireasur« 
trees congealed into stone, rearing their rugged trunks fifty and seventy wonderland. 



Connection for 

feet in the air. What 
else does man want 
than that which he 
can fmd in Arizona ? 
It is rich in mines, in 
timber, grazing land, 
soil for fruit culture, 
the best climate to 
be found any- 
where. T h e 
wealth of the 
territory is 
more than 

a hundred mil- 
lions of dol- 
lars, and is in- 
creasing with won- 
derful rapidity as people 
are coming to know its lim- 
itless resources." 

At Maricopa theSouthern 
Pacific makes connection 
with the Maricopa & PhcLMii.x 
Railroad, reaching that city 
after a run of thirty-five 



miles through a region which, beyond Tempo, wears all the aspect of an old 
and thrifty agricultural region.'^'^°"'l'T\'''''.'^'' ^^"^"'^ •' fortunately situated, or whether the ThcsaUR.v« 
bait River Valley has been made by it," said the Colonel, "but I do know ''""'^ 
that It IS in the center of some of the greatest irrigation schemes that have 
been undertaken ^^ r^ ,., , , 

. , , ^.'^^^ r — -^ in our age. It used 

to be that ...--'^djSH^ / ^->-^ 

"'•• consump- 

tive had 
to himself. H e 
climate gave him 
but of late years 
and fruit-raiser 


l'h(vni.\ all 
went there and the 
life and health, 
t h e agriculturist 
and the bee-keeper 

have crowded him pretty closely, so that now you find the thrifty modern 
city set down among groves of orange and lemon and plum and apricot 
and peach trees that make a paradise out of all that beautiful vallev, so 
that men find there not only health but wealth." 

"There's the first station name that recalls the Aztecs," I said, when we 
reached Montezuma. 

"We have Montezuma himself right north of us, in the Estrella Moun- Mountain 
tains," said the Colonel. "There is a mountain top clearly cut in the M*M^ie2°uma. 
image of a man, and the Indians say it is Montezuma asleep, and that some 
day he will awaken to gather his people together in the empire of which 
the hidalgos robbed him." 

"Why is this place called 'Painted Rocks' .'" I asked. 

"Just because some very celebrated painted rocks are scattered along painted rocks 
the Gila River near here," replied the Cirowler. "The characters on the Riw.^*^ 
rocks are not really painted, but engraved with some coarse instrument, by 
which the soft and rather thin coating of oxide of manganese was scraped 
off. The stones themselves are hard bowlders, of entirely different char- 
acter from the partially decomposed granite of which the small peak upon 
which they rest is constituted. \or, indeed, are the adjacent mountain 



The Gila 

ranges composed of any similar material. I presume they were carried 
there by the energetic action of water at a remote period. The inscriptions 
probably commemorated some battle or other important event pertaining to 
intertribal relations. 
The strangest thing 
about the rocks is that 
a magnetic compass 
placed on top of one 
of them ver- 
tically over 
its center of 
gravity is un- 


disturbed in its polarity, but this fact is nearly reversed when the compass 
is placed near the ends. It was while examining them that I first saw a 
Gila monster." 

"What in the world is a Gila monster?" asked the Girl. 

"An overgrown variegated lizard, to which all sorts of deadly attributes 
used to be ascribed, but which has been unjustly accused," was the reply. 
" It is certainly a most hideous creature, sometimes almost three feet long, 
sluggish, puffy, and with a frightful mouth." 

" Perhaps it was from Arizona Montezuma drew some of his treasure," 
I said. 

"Well, we know that a good many million dollars have been taken out 
since his time anyhow. It would set your mind ablaze to listen to the stories 



of lost mines of fabulous richness, whicli every expccis lu nnd j-abieioMoit 
some day. One of the most famous of Arizona's 'lost mines' was the '"*°" 
Planchas de Plata, or planks of silver. A Yaqui Indian first made the mine 
known, and the Spanish records show that some five tons of silver were actu- 
ally taken out near the surface of the ground, the silver being found in large 
sheets of pure metal, reputed to weigh, in some instances, more than a ton. 
The Madrid government seized this fine lot of virgin ore. appropriated it 
as the property of the crown, and declared the mine confiscated to the same 
end, and this summary proceeding naturally discouraged operations to such 
an extent that the mme was abandoned and subsequently forgotten." 

Following close and closer the Valley of the Gila, our way to Vuma winds Along the 
down from an altitude of 2,390 feet at Tucson to 140 at the bank of the Yumf'^"*** 
Colorado Riv- 
er, a distance 
of 250 miles. 
Always moun- 
tains are with- 
in sight or 
near by — 
now the Su- 

town of 
banks of that 
has cut its way 


Lunas Ne- 
gras. Through 
patchesof des- 
ert, and by .An- 
telope Peak, 
the Southern 
leads until the white 
\"uma is reached on the 
mysterious Colorado, which 
through its great mountain 

gorge to mingle its waters with those of the California Gulf. Peyond the 

big airy station, with its green expanse of garden, you will see the fort -like 

walis of the territorial penitentiary crowning a low eminence. Your train TheCoiorada^ 

steps right at the river bank, and the other end of the long steel bridge beyond. 

]E'«!lK3»rSS»-— -Ti 


V <« 



rests on the soil of California. Steamboats that ply up and clown the tnrl)id. 
swift-flowing stream are anchored to the bank, and at the station you will 
always find a picturesque group of the Yuma Indians, whose reservation is 
just across the river. Their copper-colored faces glow with stripes of ver- 
milion and green paint laid on in fanciful patterns, and tht-y wear gay fab- 
rics that heighten |^^^^ ^'u^. lustrous 
blacknessof their ^K^Pt^... eyes and hair. 

dream, and you r ^tJSi^SBn will pay him a 

wares ni<t j^^m^vjK^^-r -sa-jist--. -^ the 

chance to talk 
a counterpart of 
greatest Indian 
age, and who 
feared through 
Y u m a the 

chieftain of any 

made the Yumas 

all the land. At 

atmosi")here in- 

Vutna Indiaas 
one finds at 
the depot. 

A glimpse 

spires you, it is so dry and so surcharged with ozone. The sky is surroundings, 
a clear blue — the atmosphere as translucent as a jewel. The moun- 
tain tops — Castle Domes, the Chimney Peak, the Purple Hills. Cargo 
Muchacho — tower all around. Your mind is diverted alike by the story of 
the wild past of the place — its romance of Indian and frontier times — and 
by its busy present. As early as 1771 a detachment of Franciscan friars 
settled opposite the present site of the town and sought to Christianize the 
aborigines. However, the Indians made it so decidedly hot for them that 
they were glad to get away — that is, the few left alive after the natives got 
through. Then came the gold fever and a ferry was established. The 
government built a fort, the town spread, and afterward the railway came. 



In its early 

What a little 
water will do. 

Here the temperature has reached ii8° in the shade, but no one has ever 
been known to be sunstruck. The Southern Pacific has large interests in 
the place, which is an important division headquarters, maintaining ex- 
tensive yards and depot of supplies, ice house, water works that furnishes 

and it 

the town as well as the trains, a reading-room for 
etc. A large irrigating scheme is being worked out, 
should be profitable, for here the orange, lime and 
lemon, cotton, the fig and pomegranate, grape, 
olive, date, plum, apricot and sugar-cane grow 
profitably. Wheat, barley and corn are the 
staple field products, and vegetables thrive 
all the year round with an abundance un- 
known elsewhere. It is in the center of a 
rich gold, silver and lead region, where the 
mines have been long and remuneratively 
worked, for here the granite ribs of the 
mountains, like the alluvial carried down by 
the Gila and Colorado, is affluent in the ele- 
ments of wealth. But the traveler looks impatiently beyond, for there 
California, with all the interests that lay hold of us, awaits the guest who 
comes to share in the prodigal pleasures that it pours out. 



ch.\1'ti:k xvii. 





S this California?" said the Girl, with a strong atccnt on the 

We had left Yuma behind us, and were traversing a region of absolute First ^jUmpse 
desert. A thin herbage scantily covered the waste of sand. The mountain "'' ^*'''''"'""- 
chain upon the right looked bare and bald. 

■'No," replied the Colonel, "this is only a little bit of California. We 
are crossing the Colorado Desert, and beyond here an hour or two's ride 
will bring us into the paradise you have thought so much about. But you 
will see wonders on this bit of desert you never dreamed of. perhaps. 
Beginning at Flowing Well and continuing sixty-one miles, the railroad 
passes over what was once the bed of an ancient sea. It has left the water »c,o« ,La irvc, 

I 1 11 1 /- 1 • inthcbfdolan 

mark upon the hills to show where for ages its surf-ime beat upon their ancient ocean, 
granite walls. From Flowing Well, which is five feet above sea-level, to 
Volcano Springs, a distance of ten miles, we drop to 225 feet below the tide- 
line. At Salton we reach the lowest point — 263 feet — and from then on 
we climb upwards until at a point some two miles beyond Indio the level is 
again reached. It is supposed that once the Gulf of California e.xtended 
up and flowed all over this region, and there is an ancient tradition that 
once this section was fertile and populous, the seat of a great city, the cap- 
ital of a race that has disappeared." 

"What sort of a place is Volcano Springs?" I asked. 

"Quite remarkable in its way," replied the Colonel. " I'here is a per- 
petual mirage in view, which spreads a beautiful lake off to the south. 
From the windows of the car you can see many mud volcanoes or springs, the mud 
which bubble up to a height of from five to twenty feet. They are cone- voican?*** 
shaped, and very curious, tho' dangerous to approach, owing to the thin- ^p""^- 
ness of the earth crust about them. Venturesome explorers have been 
badly burned by breaking through this crust in the attempt to examine 
them too closely. Sulphur, soda and salt impregnate the mud discharged, 
and some of the springs emit a strong odor of sulphur gas and send up 
d'scolored bubbles, which, as they burst, discharge little pnPs of bluish 




Great place for 
a sanitarium, 

smoke. There are also circular pools filled with water, and, like the aiud 
springs, some of these are cold and others hot." 
" Does the volume of the flow vary ? " I asked. 

"It is greater in summer than in winter I have been told," was the 
response. ■> 

"A good place for a sanitarium I should think," remarked the Girl. 
"All this old sea-bed would be a good place for a sanitarium," replied 

the Growler. ^^.^-"^ ~~-~--~_ " I'^idio already has a wonderful 

reputation ^.^"^""''''^ ^^''-'V^ as a favorable resort for consump- 

tives, y^ ^S. I have known men who came 

)ut to points along here 
what certainly appear- 
ed to be the last 
stages of phthisis, 
and w'ho recovered. 
The desert is a rain- 
less and cloudless 
region, with but six- 
teen or seventeen per 
cent of humidity in 
the atmosphere, and 
that atmosphere 
charged with chlo- 
rine gas arising from 
its immense fields of 
salt. These elements 
have restored many 
to health who had 
long despaired of re- 

We watched with 
wonder the mud vol- 
canoes at the place of 
•that name, and the 
Colonel and the 
Growler entertained 
us with stories of 
Death's VaUey far to 
.\N .\Ri/.o.\A MOUNTAIN RAviNK. thc nortii oi iiere, 

Death's Valley where the great borax mines are situated, where emigrants have oftentimes 
and^the borax pg^jg^^g^i^ ^^j ^^^^^^ prospectors Still seck for the mythical Peg-Legged 

Smith or Gunsight mines. 


There are prospectors who constantly roam all through thi.s section/' Nomads of the 
said the Growler. "I've sat by the hour and listened to tiieir yarns and ***""' 
there is nothing they like better than to get hold of a tenderfoot and prevail 
on him to grub-stake them for a sixty or ninety-day prospecting tour. This 
is a veritable picnic for these nomads of the desert. A hundreii dollar> will 
buy a couple of bronchcjsand a stock of fl„ur, coffee, sugar, pork and beans. 


Then they go off into the mountains, liiul a quiet sj'jring. and grow fat while 
they loaf about. When the provisions are gone they return with some 
pieces of ore picked up at a mine, tell a few fairy stories about a rich ledge 
or a big vein, and 'strike' the tenderfoot for another stake to develop it. 
These men know the desert as no one else possibly can, because thev spend 
their lives upon it, and while others would perish they are acquainted with 
every water-hole, and can get along with as little of that fluid as a canu-l." 

"Beg pardon," said the Colonel ; "but here is .Salton. and we must get 
out and take a look at the salt sea." 

To the south of the railway track, a couple of miles away, lies the 
remarkable salt lake — a sheet of snowlike whiteness that glistens in the 
sun. It is thirty miles long and ten miles wide. So clear is the air that 
you look across it and would swear the further shore was not more than 
two miles away. It is a vast marsh, fed by thousantis of springs that rise, 
perhaps, in the far-off mountains, and whose waters are rapidly evaporated 
as they reach the surface, leaving over the whole lake or marsh a white 
expanse of pure salt that sparkles like a vast rippled field of ice. The 
marsh is seventeen feet lower than the rest of the vallev, and is thus a 

" Working" 
the Kullible 

Salton, the 
lowest spot on 
the continent, 
i.S^i miles 
from New- 

The KTcat sea 
of salt. 



How the saline 
fields are 

When the 
flooded all the 

Got a new pair 
of lungs and 
will help 

natural sink or basin. The salt is packed and shipped upon a large scale, 
extensive works having been erected. A portable railway runs out three 
miles from the shore-line, and here a steam plow gathers the white harvest, 
which is earned to the mill on cars, ground and put in packages for mar- 
keting. The company, whose interests are looked after on the ground by 
Vice-President and General Manager J. W. Durbrow, has a capacity for 

taking off eight hundred tons per day and for stor- 
ing twelve thousand tons. As Nature replaces the 
salt as rapidly as it is gathered, the supply is inex- 
haustible. The work is done by Cahuilla Indians, 
who live in a little village near the station. They 
endure the blinding glare and excessive heat of 
the salt sea as no other laborers could, and are 
faithful and industrious. It was upon Salton 
that the eyes of the world were turned in 
June, 1891, when the Colorado, breaking its 
banks below Yuma, backed up through the low 
valleys until it flooded all this region. There 
was vast agitation among the wise men then, for 
ley professed a belief that the alleged sea might 
e permanent, and the climate of the whole 
gion undergo a consequent change. But the 
ry desert air took the water in hand, and it 
absorbed the prospective sea in a very few 
months, so that the coyote soon came back 
and the horned toad took possession of 
his lair again. 

" I knew Durbrow when he came here 
first, eight or nine years ago, an almost help- 
less consumptive," said the Colonel. "Now 
he is as well and strong as anybody. That 
is what the climate has done for him. If he 
can, by sinking an artesian well, find good 
water, he proposes to put up a hotel at this 
point, specially adapted for persons suffering from pulmonary complaints. 
He has prepared a plan for a house with hollow tile walls, through which 
cold air can be pumped, and supplied to the rooms, so as to maintain an 
equable temperature at night. In the daytime he says his patients must 
be kept out in the air. At present the water is all brought in here ; that 
which flows from the springs being too saline for use. The railway company 
hauls water cars, to supply its engines, across the arid stretch." 

" To see the splendor of this region you should be here on a moonlight 


I-IKST GLIMl'SIiS ()!• ( Al.II . .RMx. 

^ii' '\s -main k (I 

tr. "anil see tin. 

laciiuo, eleven thousand five hun- D.*rn.Bd 

teet. anil San Hcrnardinc,. ten cOl^rido'^'' 

thousand feet, glorified by the ""*" 

wliite light, while their vast black 

shadows rearh far 

V >-:>, out over the illumi- 

"\s- ^ nated width of the 

plain ; or be here to 

rise with 

'^ the sun and 

of the 
great ba- 
salt ridges glow 
redder and red- 
der with the fire 
of the coming 
day, while all the 
colors of the spec- 
trum mingle in the 
cloudless sky." 

A few miles 
farther on w - 
reached Indio— a 
verdure-clad gem 
set down as a vi- 
detteupon the out - 
skirts of fertilr 
California. Here 
an abundance of 
good water ap- 
plied to the soil has [j 
created an oasis so f 
productive that :; 
grape vine made a 
growth of thirty- 
six feet in a year. 
Just bevond Indio 

puosrtxrroRS and an olu olive mill, caluorma. 

the road traverses the San llur-onio Pass throu-h the San Bernardino 



Range, and reaches an altitude of 2,560 feet. All about are rugged clifTs of 
syenite, and gneiss and basalt, that in Miocene times were thrust skyward, 
while the eye catches the foamy spume of a mountain torrmt tli.n wvirl. 
beside the track and is lost among the cliffs. 

While we were still admirmg the rugged scenery, the l.irl turned lu the 
Colonel, and said : 

" It seems to me you should have a little something to tell us about 
California. Here we are now on the threshold of it, and if you have any 
particularly poky information it would be a good time to give it to us." 

The Colonel looked aggrieved. "I am sure," he said, "that I have 
dealt very leniently with you. The trouble st-enis to be that you alwavs 

want a sort of 
earamel enlij^ht- 
tnment. In other 

Iiidio. the 

vidcllc of 
vcnliirr I lad 

A word about 
the state. 

Difficultir* of 
ftu^ar coating 
dr>' facts 


words, you want mighty little and you want that little sugar-coateil. 1 low m 
the world do you think any one could condense the history and resources of a 
great and diversified commonwealth like this into a few words? To these 
shores first came Cabrillo, a Portuguese navigator, who sailcil under the Span- 
ish flag. That was in 1542. Then fifty-four years later came Sebastian 
ino, and after him, in 1769, Junipero Sierra, and planted the first mission at ^^Hy Spanish 
what is now Old Town. The different Catholic orders had been importun- 



The Dons took 
things easy 

Then the 
"Gringos " 

ing the crown for authority to establish missions for a long time, and at 
last, to balk Russia, which threatened to occupy the country, Carlos III 
sent out a military command and after them followed the zealous priests. 
How the colony, if such it could be called, drifted on would be a very long 
story. By the year 1800 the sixteen padres had 13,500 Indian converts, 
and many of these had been tramed to useful pursuits, and were fairly 
skilled in handicraft. The Spanish settlers did little to develop the country. 
They had great 
herds of cattle ' ^^'f^'JW^^SSJ^'^'^'W 

Treasures of 
mine and field. 

and horses, but the 
cultivation of the soil 
was neglected, and civilization 
did not materially progress. In 
August, 1833, the Mexican congress 
passed the order of secularization, 
and the missions, which had been gain- 
ing wealth at the rate of more than 
two million dollars per year, lasped into 
a condition bordering on ruin, as we find 
so many of them to-day. After this date 
came the thrilling story of American oc- 
iN i....> .^:^..i■.l.).^,. cupancy, the gold fever of the .Argonauts, 

and the later developments of the agricultural resources. The California 
of to-day has a length of 770 miles and a breadth of 330. It has fifty 
million acres of arable land and twenty million of forest." 

" Having produced over a billion and a quarter dollars in gold, it is no 
wonder it is a rich state, with the largest per capita wealth in the Union," 
I said. 

"Yes, but its wealth is in its fields and orchards," replied the Colonel. 
"It raises more than fortv million bushels of wheat, fifteen million bushels 


of barley, seventy million pounds of raisins, thirty million pounds of pruiH-h. 
and eight thousand carloads of oranges ; wine, twenty million gallons ; heet- 
sugar. twenty-six million pounds; wool, forty million pounds: hops, forty- 
five thousand bales ; petroleum, six hundred thousand barrels ; olive (iil. 
four thousand five hundred gallons, and a multitude of other products for 
export and home consumption. Everything grows here. It affords any 
sort of climate and every possible soil, and its waste places neetl onlv water 
to transform them into orchards and gardens. It has hundreds of square 
miles covered with orchards of citrus fruits, which make its valleys so 
beautiful that, to the eastern tourist, they seem like a vision of Hesperides." 

"But, after all, its climate is its chief attraction." I said. 

" As one can readilv understand when one knows that the eastern tourists wii.,t cMcm 

1 . 1 ,- Ml- 1 11 1 II .. lonrists pav for 

who wmter here spend some five million dollars in the state annually, climate. 

said the Growler. "That shows appreciation of climate. Some of them 

have a wrong idea of it. They think if ^hey get anywhere in California 

they are safe. They do not pause to consider that the great state runs 

through many degrees of latitude, with every range of temperature and 

humidity made possible by high mountain chains, deep valleys, sea-coast 

and plain. But there are certain peculiar features which obtain all over the 

state. In the first place, the division of the year into two sea.sons — a dry 

and rainy one — is the most marked general characteristic of the Califor- 

nian climate. But as one goes further north, the rains are found to begin 

earlier and last longer ; while on the other hand, the southeastern corner of ^hmatras you 

*> hiul il here. 

the state is almost rainless. Again, the climate of the Pacihc coast along 
the whole length is milder and more uniform than that of the states in a 
corresponding latitude east of the mountains. Thus, we have to go as far 
north as Sitka, in latitude 57. to find the same mean yearly temperature as 
that of Halifax, N. S., in latitude 44° 39'. And in going south along the variations 

.- I » 1 1 c producea by 

coast, we observe that the mean temperature ot Los Angeles ami ban U-ai 
Diego is six or seven degrees less than that of Charleston and Vicksburg, '"p°'^'1' ^ 
which are nearly in the same latitude, and situated one on the Atlantic 
coast, the other on the Mississippi River. But. in atldition. we notice that 
the means of summer and winter are much nearer the mean of the year in 
California than in the east. Thus, comparing Washington and San Fran- 
cisco, we have : 

Mean ot Mean ol Mean ol 

Year. SuinnuT Winter. 

San Francisco 5^- ^- 5'- 

Washington 56.07 76-3 3^05 

" This condition of things is not so marked as we advance into the interior si|imucrand 
of California, but everywhere in the state the winters are comparatively 
mild, and the heat of summer is much less disagreeable in its effects, because 
the air is exceedinglv dry and the evaporation proportionately rapid." 




" Enough of speculation and deduction," exclaimed the Colonel, as the jeweUofthe 
Growler paused. " Here we are at Redlands Junction. Redlands is the vaUcy^"" 

younger and easternmost of those three jewels of the Santa Ana Valley 

the other two being Riverside and San Bernardino. Its growth has been 
wholly since 1887, and yet it now has almost four thousand acres of orange 
orchards. In eight years it has developed from nothing into a town of 
paved streets, sewered, lighted by electricity, and adorned by handsome Redlands. 
homes and every public improvement. The other two towns are reached 
by a motor line in a ride of a few minutes from Colton. The three towns 
form a triangle. Their charms are well nigh equal. The pioneer settlers 
located at Riverside in 1871. Then it was a desert. Now it has 7,500 
people, and the assessed valuation is upwards of $6,000,000. You have all 
heard of Magnolia Avenue in Riverside — that broad thoroughfare which Riverside, 
for ten miles is lined with magnolia, pepper, palm and euca- 
lyptus trees, and flanked by ten thousand acres of mag- 
nificent orange groves. The hard-graveled road rings 
^^^pBUL^ under your horse's feet, and the homes that line this 

f^mUK^M/ i- ^' 1^' ^~ great highway are worthy 

J^ "^>.,Z_ \ f ~ ' ■ of their surroundings. The 

A-Mum; nil '-imi lunric homi-: 


extensive irri- 
gating systems which 
have made this desert 
blossom now furnish water for twenty-five' thousand acres of land. The city 
of San Bernardino, which has an altitude of a thousand feet, was originally 
a Mormon town, planned after Salt Lake City. Long since the Mormons 
lost their hold and went back to Utah, and now successive avenues fringed 
with hedges and feathery palms, and lined by great orchards, nestling 
affluent homes, bespeak prosperity. The business center of the city is 
substantially built, and everything indicates order and progression. These 
three towns are the fit representatives of the great orange indu.stry, and I 
have never known any one who visited here who did not feel a longing 



to take up his residence in some one of iliem. and enjoy the delights ot liv- 
ing under such attractive conditions." 

"While we are running through this land of perpetual bloom, 1 am An anecdote of 
reminded of an amusing story my friend Horace Hell used to tell, of a time "''> '•"'•*'*=^ 
when everything was very different," remarked the (Irowler. " It was a 
true incident, occurred right here, and will give you an illustration of the 
social order of early California. There was in the early 50's a doctor who 
had come to California with Stevenson's pioneer regiment. He was a 
useful character, who soon won local distinction as a Democratic politician 
and filled suiKiry municipal offices. In the Presidential canvass of 1S52, 
the twtj parties. Whig and Democrat, were warmly arrayed one against the 
other. The Democratic outlook was good except in one particular i)recinct, 
that of Jurupa — and it is here proper to say that Los Angeles county at that 
time embraced all the territory of San Bernardino, the division having been The field ot 
made in 1854. Old Louis Roubideau.x was the lord of Jurupa, that is, he "i'^'^"°"*- 
owned and occupied the Jurupa Rancho, and he was a Whig, and could not 
be won over in any way. The case seemed hopeless, ami the Doctor was 
sent out with his saddle-bags full of Democratic tickets to act as a forlorn 
hope in the cause. Then and the.e was where the transcendent genius of 
the embryo politician cropped out. Abt)Ut half way from Jurupa, which 
was then a mditary post, to San Bernardino was situated the most beautiful 
little settlement I ever saw. It was called ' Agua Mansa,' meaning gentle -AjruaMansa." 

, ,.,... . X - , r ■ 1 « place of unso- 

watei, and was composed entirely ot emigrants from New Mexico, number- phisticaied 
ing some two hundred souls — simple, good souls they were, too : primitive 
in their style of living, kind and hospitable to strangers, rich in all that went 
to make people happy and content, never having been, up to that time, vexed 
by the unceremonious calls of the tax collector, owing allegiance to none 
save the simple, kind-hearted old priest who looked after their spiritua' 
wellfare. In the winter of 1862 a tlood in the Santa Ana River swept away 
their houses, gardens, orchards, vineyards, in fact all of their splendid 
agricultural lands, leaving nothing save a hideous plain of black boulders 
and cobble-stones to mark the place where once stood this modern minia- 
ture Eden. 

"There must have been at least fiftv voters at Agua Mansa, which had The wiiy 

, . ' , , .^ , • politician 

been designated as the voting place tor the Jurupa precinct. So to thi> arrivtsomhe 


place hied the noble Doctor as the avaunt courier of American civilization, 
to give this primitive people their first lesson in tlie mysteries of citizenship. 
"The Doctor was a New Yorker, and may have had past experience in 
the management of elections. In this instance he not only proved himself 
an adept, but a perfect master of the business. Arriving at Agua Mansa, His religious 

,., ,. II- irri'ii devotion 

he dismounted, tied his hungry mustang, divested himself of his leatiier inanifested 
Mexican leggings and jingling spurs, and with the sacred saddle-bags on 



his arm, with solemn step and downcast eyes, he bent his way to the little 
adobe church that stood on a mound in the center of the village. Arriv- 
ing at the door he piously uncovered, reverently crossed himself, entered 
The old priest and prostrated himself in front of the little altar, and was then and there 
trap/'^ ° ^ discovered by the simple old priest, who sprinkled him with holy water and 
offered him sweet words of consolation. Within the next hour the Doctor 
informed the priest that his piety (the priest's, not the Doctor's) had a world- 
wide fame, and that in the distant land of New York the sacred name of 
Friar Juan of Agua Mansa was a household word among all good Catho- 
lics, and he, the Doctor, had made a pilgrimage hither to invoke the prayers 
of the saintly Juan for the repose of the soul of his mother (the Doctor's 
mother, not the priest's), at which period the Doctor slipped a 'slug' into 
the palm of the astonished Juan. 

"Suffice it to say that prayers and masses were the order of the day, and 
on the following morning, at the breakfast table, the Doctor informed the 
priest that an election would be held on that day for President of the United 
States ; that one candidate, General Scott, was a great heretic, and was the 
tyrant who made war on the Catholics of Mexico ; and that it would be a 
greatcalamity to the Catholic world should Scott be elected; that Pierce, the 
other candidate, was a good Catholic, and if elected would build Catholic 
churches all over the world, and that it therefore behooved them, as good 
Catholics, to see that Agua Mansa cast its vote for Pierce. And Agua Mansa 
did, under the pious instructions of the saintly Juan, subject to the satanic 
Doctor, vote early and all day for the Democratic candidate, to the great 
chagrin of old Louis Roubideaux, who felt, for the first time, that he had 
lost his influence with the gentle people of Agua Mansa." 

And the people 
vole solidly for 
his candidate. 





FROM now on the road was through the gic.ii orange district — pa^i »•a^t u,, ..i.i 
Pomona and through the San Gabriel Valley where is the Mission oabric"/' ^^ 
which Padres Somera and Cambon established in August, 1771. Under the 
very shadow of its chapel General Kearney defeated the Mexican forces in 
his memorable battle. The Girl was in a continuous ecstacy of delight, 
and she went into raptures over the beautiful views from the window. The 
Colonel was pointing out the different varieties of fruit, and explaining 
something of their cultivation and profit. Even the Growler wore a com- 
placent look — a sort of " Isn't-it-all-I-toId-you " air. In an hour or two — 
in the very midst of our enjoyment of it all — the train ran into the env.rtms 
of a city, and presently came to a standstill in a great cool depot — the AndimoLos 
Arcade at Los Angeles. As we were driven through the busy streets, with imies^rom 
their tall modern buildings, their hurry of electric cars and bustle of com- 
merce, the Colonel said : 

"Looking now at this metropolis of 75,000 people 11 i> pn.-u_\ iiard iu 
realize that it was a thriving pueblo when the Franciscan Fathers estab- 
lished their Mission in 1781. The name given to it ' The Pueblo de la Reina 
de los Angeles/ or town of the queen of the angels — bespoke the impression 
the early beauty of the place made upon its founders. Here, in 1S22, the 
first American came, brought as a prisoner. In 1835 the place became the 
capital of California, and in August, 1846, Commodore Robert F. Stockton 
and Maj. John C. Fremont marched in and raised the stars and stripes on 
Fort Hill. When, in 1847. Fremont became Governor he established his 
headquarters here. It was from here he made his famous mustang ride to tik- city before 
Monterey — a round trip of a thousand miles, which he covered in just eight 
and a half days — an average of nearly one hunilred and twenty-five miles 
per day. Through the first stormy years, when lawlessness was more or less 
prevalent, the town grew by gradual accretions of a more desirable class, 
and with the usual adventurous circumstances attending the building of a 
citv, it increased in importance until when in 18S1 it celebrated its centen- 
nial thirty thousand people were in line. From then on the growth of the 


it was a citv 



Now it is city was rapid and its improvement marked. To-day its limits comprise an 

todTte^^'" "^ area of thirty-six square miles, through which flows the Los Angeles River. 
The municipality controls a very extensive irrigating plant as well as a 
system for the supply of water for domestic purposes. In every element 
that goes to make up city life, it is not surpassed by any place in the 
countrv. The cleanliness of its well-paved streets, the architecture of its 
busmess center, and the charm of its residence thoroughfares, where hedges 

Easy to get 

Plans for 
seeing things. 


of calla lilies supplant fences, and great rose trees hide roofs and walls and 
clamber in a clinging mass over porches — all make up a picture which can- 
not anywhere be duplicated." 

During the two or three days that we spent there we found our time 
fully occupied. The extensive cable and electric lines make all parts of the 
city and the adjacent suburbs easily accessible. The parks, the gardens, 
the places of public amusement, kept us busy in our tour of sight-seeing. 

Then, one evening, when the Colonel said : " Now we must prepare to 
visit a few of the points of interest about here." we were ready to hear what 
else there possibly could be more interesting than that which we had seen. 

"In the first place," he continued, deliberately, "Los Angeles is the 
center of a great many attractions, and it is the strategic base to move on 
them, from which the tourist naturally makes headciuarters. As we came 
past Riverside, Redlands and San Bernardino, and will stop and visit them 
on our way back, we need not make a special trip there now, tho' they are 
points which every traveler will wish to inspect. But we will take a run 
over to I'asadena and Mt. Lowe ; go down to Santa Monica, over to Santa 
Catalina Island, and on our way northward will slip over to Santa Barbara. 
If we had time we would take a run down to San Diego and Coronado 
Beach, which are reached from here by an easy run of a few hours." 

'' Thai's a list of attractuMis that no other point can offer," said the 

IN nil-: cnv oi- iii 



Growler. "The most sublime mountain scenery and a ride up to it on the 
steepest railway in the world, a s^limpse of one of the j,'reatest piers ever 
constructed, and a dip in the surf of the Pacific at a place where you can 
take a header in the breakers all the year round without discomfort ; a 
thirty-mile sail over the bluest of seas, and an island harbor at the end of 
the ride which would delight any lover of nature." 

" Let's have the surf-bath first ! " cried the (iirl. 

"All right ; then it's Santa Monica we go to," replied the Colonel. - It's 
only a run of an hour and it's almost due west of here. I'he Southern 
Pacific runs frequent trains to Port Los Angeles, just beyond, where it has 
its big wharf, and does an innnense excursion business." 

We went down to Santa Monica the next day, visiting the soldiers' home 
and the famous ostrich farm on the way. At Santa Monica the train runs 
into a flower-bespangled park, while just beyond the sea beats upon a wide 
beach of white sand. The ride, all the way down, is through the rural 
beauties of the orange country. The shore line of the bay has a graceful 
sweep. In the summer the ..;t^\ /x^ cool winds from the 

northwest are \ I ^''"'"^^•s^ diverted by the 

Sierra Santa 



>>anta Monica 
.111(1 its K'^at 

a billowy range '\^|2K^f^^^'^'^^$|S^Hf ^' 

of coast mountains ^^^BSa/^^dgt/j^SBIf/m lying along the northern 
shore. Hencetheocean ^^^^^H^H^^>^ =^^v^" is long and gentle, 
and the breakers are ^^^^BRe?---''''^^ never annoying. There are 
beautiful eucalyptus scknes .n ..os jrroves. and the streets of the 
old town are lined with trees, while the admirable Hotel .Arcadia, with 
every concomitant of elegant comfort, stands upon the beach with a 
perpetual invitation to guests to linger for a time. There is besides 
the unexcelled surf bathing, a great bath-house where huge pools invite 
those who refuse the ruder play of the waves. C.athering shells and moss, 
bathing in the surf, and visiting the great Southern Pacific wharf, at Port 
Los .Angeles, 4,600 feet long, that curves out into the turcjuois waters, occu- 
pied our time. The wharf is a huge structure, with coal bunkers that will 
hold more than 8,000 tons, depot buiUlings aiul freight sheds that will 

Di lights of the 
sra side. 



Pasadena and 
Mt. Lowe. 

Into Rubio 

DiflBculties of 



Up the Great 
Incline, where 
the grade is 62 
per cent. 

accommodate the longest trains. The next day was given over to Pasadena 
and Mt. Lowe. Pasadena, the gem of the San Gabriel Valley, with its 
twelve thousand people, nestles between the Sierra Madre Range and the 
Puente Hills. Here, where once the indolent dons had their ranches and 
the jovial friars cared for the docile Indians, the Anglo-Saxon has built a 
beautiful city. Here wild flowers bespangle the fields, and rugged old trees 
of native growth mingle with the orchards of orange, lemon and olive. 
Here the clouds only obscure the sun on fourteen days of the year, 
and the mean of the thermometer is 59°. Winter does not exist and 
summer is not a season to be dreaded. The homes all wear an air of 
cheerful content and plenty, while many of them bear evidence of the 
wealth of their occupants. The newly opened line of the Southern Pacific 
soon carried us from Los Angeles to and through Pasadena, and the electric 
line toolc us into Rubio Caiion, named for the venerable padre of the Mis- 
sion of San Buenaventura. The line winds about the base of the hills, 
higher and higher, crossing gorges and through deep cuts in the spurs that 
jut out. At the foot of the Great Incline we alighted and walked up Rubio 
Canon, half a mile or more. 

"I'm out of breath ! " the Girl exclaimed. 

" Shall we go back ? " the Colonel asked. 

" No, indeed, it is too lovely — I want to see it all," was the response. 

The pathway leads through deep gorges, where the gray and mossy walls 
rise on each side to shut the canon in. We are following up a mountain 
brook that dashes madly along. In places the way is blocked by a sheer 
precipice, over which the stream falls in foamy spray, but here wooden steps 
clinging to the precipice makes progress possible. 

" Every bit of this timber was carried in here on the shoulders of men," 
says the Growler. 

At last we turn an abrupt angle of the rock wall, and before us a silvery, 
veil-like mist of water falls from a hundred feet or more above. At our 
feet is a pool so clear that every shining grain of sand at its bottom is visible. 
All about the tall cliffs hem us in, their cool black faces blotched with green 
mosses. After standing in silent admiration for a long time, we turn and 
retrace our steps. 

" I never will go up there," said the Girl, firmly, as we stood at the foot of 
the Great Incline ready to take the car. 

" It is perfectly safe, my dear, or I would not trust you to it," replied the 
Colonel, persuasively. 

"This," said the Growler, craning his neck to look up to where the track 
disappeared over the hill ahead, " is what Count Commodensky, imperial 
superintendent of the military roads of Russia, pronounced tfie most won- 



1 a ifiiglii c>t j.ooc It 


derful engineering feat he had seen anywhere, li 
makes a direct ascent of over 1,300 feet." 

By the time the conductor called "all aboard." we had taken our places Thctartfor 
in the open car, which is so arranged that the seats are always on a level. Mounutn.*^*^ 
regardless of the steep grade. There was a signal by wire to the motor- 
house on the mountain, the long steel cable tightened and we moved 
upward. At every foot the panorama of seamed ami ruijurd nKtuntain grew 
beneath us, and then we caught glimpses ^^^ of tlic 

great valley that spread below, with /^ ^\ its 

clustering houses and 
its shining reser- 
voirs. When we 
stepped out on 
the plateau at 
the top, where 
a commodious 
hotel awaited 
us, it was to 
have an unex- 
ampled pano- 
rama unfold- 
ed at our feet, for here one looks off across the intervening valleys to the far The paniram* 
Pacific, and sees the islands whose green heights rise from the waves thirty bciow 
miles off shore. Field and garden and orchard are lying below like the 
squares of a vast checker-board ; and one waits on the wide verandas or 
walks along the edge of the high ridges to rest the eye upon this changeful 
picture of delight. 

'• Well, I know there is nothing more beautiful than this I " said the Girl, at 

" It is only one of the wonders California is so prodigal in." was the 
Colonel's reply. '* Vou will .'^ay that same thing a hundred times before we 
leave the state." 

"That's the trouble!" chimed in the Growler. "There is so much to ^Ycx'^ranl"'''' 
see and admire. It's like looking at good pictures. A few of them delight good things 
one, and you can restfuUy enjoy them, but when you visit a great gallery 
crowded with superb canvases the senses become dulled and one grows 

•• Well, well," responded the Colonel, "never fear, we won't see half the 
wonders of California, try as we will, and each place is so different in its 
beauty or its character of novelty from all the others that there is not much 
chance of getting tired." 

On up the mountain, to the very summit of tail Mt. Lowe, an electric 



San Pedro 

Off lor Santa 



A paradise in 
the Pacific. 

Cabrillo spied 
it out in 1542. 

railway runs — a marvelous piece of construction, which, at times, juts out 
from the sheer face of a precipice, while one looks out of the car window 
into chasms thousands of feet deep. 

We took the train for San Pedro the next morning, and another ride of 
sixty minutes landed us at the pretty little seaport town with its island- 
sheltered bay and its white lighthouse. The steamer was awaiting us and 
as we went on the upper deck, the Growler looked about ecstatically, and, 
with a genuflexion of his arm toward the sea, exclaimed : 

"Ah, this is something like it — nothing like the sea to brace you up, my 
boy ! Why, this trip will make us all feel younger." 

" How far out is it to Santa Catalina, the isle of summer, you have been 
talking about so much, papa ? " the Girl asked, looking a little timorously at 
the long ocean swell outside. 

"It lies about nineteen miles off the "coast," the Colonel replied, "and far 
enough south of here to make the voyage one of almost thirty miles. But 
don't be alarmed ; you know you are on the Pacific now." 
" How much of an island is it ? " I asked. 

"Well, say twenty-three miles long, with a breadth of from eight miles to 

half a mile. Its hills rise to a 
height of three thousand feet, 
and they shelter lovely valleys, 
woodlands, and in fact a great 
diversity of natural scenery. 
James Lick bought the island 
liom the Government in 1864 
for $12,000 and made a mighty 
good bargain. It is now owned 
by the Banning Brothers of Los 
Angeles, and is one of the most 
resorts on the whole coast." 
course its discovery was due to the old 
navigators?" I said; "they seem to have 
monopoly of discovery in the South and 

replied the Colonel. "Cabrillo, when 
looking for the mythical Straits of 
came upon Santa Catalina in September, 
1542. Cabrillo died on one of the islands of the Santa Barbara channel ; but 
his pilot, Ferrello, has left a diary which tells us that a large Indian village 
was located on what is now known as Avalon Bay on the south sid^ of the Cata- 
lina. Doubtless Drake, Woods, Rogers, Sherlocke, and the buccaneers who 
were much in evidence shortly afterwards, all visited the place, but it was not 




until sixty years later, when the expedition wliich Philip III sent out under 
Sebastian Vizcaino landed there an<l s^ave it its nam.-, tliat we hear much 


of it. The large native population deserteil, at the instigation o' the 
Franciscan fathers, about the middle of the last century." 

"And more's the pitv," said the Cirowler ; "for they left a lovely home tik- natives 

,-,,■■■, , ' I I'l- !•■' 1 >javc up a good 

and a life of independence to take up peonage under their religious task- thing, 
masters. But the island shows ample evidence of an older civilization, and 
one which presents a good many problems to the ethnologist." 

"Well, don't let's have any problems," exclaimed the (iirl : " the sea and 
the day are too delightful." 

It was, indeed, a charming day, and for a quarter century an annually 



growing throng of tourists have been singing the praises of the voyage. 

The sea is wimpied in great billowy undulations that shade off in every 

range of color — from turquois, as you look over the side of the vessel, to 

emerald, where heaven clasps it far away. White sea-gulls follow close 

behind the steamer, or sweep ahead and over it in long graceful curves of 

flight. In the water you discern great masses of kelp that some far-off The wytge to 

storm has dislodged from ocean caves perhaps a thousand fathoms deep. 

Flying fish rise in swift flight and skim the surface for a hundred yards 

until their gossamer wings fail them and they fall back into their element. 

There was just enough sea to be exhilarating, and we were all somewhat 

surprised to notice the Growler rise a little shakily from his chair just as 




the island was coming well mto view and say, with the aspect of a man who 
is going to keep his secret if he dies for it : 

" Excuse me, please; I will go down on the lower deck and look over the 

" Don't look over the side," said the Girl, airily; " vou might tall over, you 

The Growler 



"I have no intention of looking over the side," replied the Growler, with 
pale dignity. "I have been to sea too often to indulc:e in anv such tom- 

"The Growler's sea-sick," said the Girl, heartles^-ly ; •woni wi- lease 

him, tho'." 

" Don't be too sure you won't be in the same condition yourselt," replied 

her father. 



The little town of Avalon clusters close under the encircling hills upon Avaion and iu 

hcItrr^d bay. 

the sheltered bay of the same name. On either liand the bold [iromontories 
push themselves out into the sea, and offer a front of rock to the great 
billows that beat against them. 15ehintl and on either siile of the scattered 
^' the hills slope sharply, with here and there a nodding tree, 
t the vivid green of thick grass and the brilli- 
flowers. The boats of the fishermen are drawn 
lie white strand, and on the beach their nets are 
spread. The shells they gather upon the Cata- 
lina shores are wonderful in their variety, and 
more wonderful in the diversity of their color- 

" It all seems like a pretty bit of stage- 
setting," said the Girl, delightedly, as the 
A steamer drew close to the dock. 

"\N'hat an ideal place it is. to 
be sure I "' 

The Growler was standing paie, but 

, , 111 resolute I 

on the lower deck when we starchy, 
prepared to disembark. He 
looked pretty pale, and there 
was a sad, far-away gleam in 
I tried to be jocose, and e.\- 
" Nothing like a sea trip to 
one up, eh ! makes us feel 
don't it?" But our comrade 
humor for badinage, and he re- 
" There are certain conditions 
system when the oldpst sailor 
uncomfortable, but — " 

his eyes, 

was in no 
plied : 
of the 
is apt to feel^ 
He did not's^' 
glad of it, for I; 
I knew he felt 

JN C.\ 1 .^MN A 1--I \N1> 

have time to hnish anil I was Thcynii 

, , , , wanted to stay. 

I really pitied the Growler, and 
badlv. Hut we were at the dock. 

and while we walked up to the hotel the Girl chatted away at a rate which 
soon smoothed thin-s over. It was four or five days we could induce 
the Growler to start on the return trip. The Clirl sided with him and wanted 
to stay and it did no good for the Colonel to protest that we would not get 
back home in a vear unless we cut our sight-seeing shorter, and it was only 
when I intimated that he was afraid of the return voyage to San Pedro that he 
showed a willingness to go. That touched his vanity. I confess I was m 
no hurry to leave mvself, for after we took the famous coach ride from 
Avalon to the isthmus, through Middle Ranch Cafton, winding about the 



Sports of the 

The island 

Treasures of 
the sea and air. 

Cabrillo Range, under the shadow of the Peaks of Orizaba and Viscaino, 
there was plenty to occupy our time. We tried to catch a jevv-fish, but 
didn't succeed. However, we had no end of sport with yellow-tail— the 
salmon of these waters — and caught barracuda, rock-bass, white-fish, 
grouper and tuna enough to supply the hotel. The Growler and I spent a 
day in the mountains in chase of the agile mountain goat, which here 
abounds. It was a long tramp, but it had its rewards, for we bagged a fine 
specimen. We both caught sight of him at the same time, and made a long 
detour to crawl up within rifle shot. He stood like a sentinel guarding a 
little flock that was feeding in a hollow below. The Growler and I both 
fired at the same time, and the goat, with a high bound in the air, fell dead. 
A shot had struck him just back of the left shoulder. I protested that I 
had killed him, but the Growler said he knew it was his shot because he 
always fired for the left shoulder when hunting big game. To settle the 
matter we agreed to have the head mounted and give it to the Girl as a 
souvenir of the trip. 

Everything tempted us — the gray rocks covered with sea anemones of 
varied colors, and with star-fish hiding in the crannies ; the jelly-fish which, 
in bulky mass or long glass-like tendrils, floated in on the tide ; the brown 
pelicans that haunt the shore with lumbering flight ; the loon, and gulls, and 
eagles. So it was small wonder that we saw the fair shores of Santa Catalina 
fade, and the mists, that distance drops like a curtain, hide the island head- 
lands from our sight. 



" T 'VE got a better plan for seeing California." the ('olonel announced 
i the night before we left Los Angeles. 

Of course we were all attention at once, for we knew the C."ol(jnel would 
devise the best methods for systematic sight-seeing. 

"The main line of the Southern Pacific," he continued. " runs the full Southern 

.... Pacific lines In 

length of the state, entering at its northern line and leaving it at the south- California. 
east corner, traversing the entire central part of the commonwealth. It also 
has a coast line, which runs south from San Francisco, and soon to be 
connected at Elwood with the present road from that point to Saugus on 

N A l.\I.Ti-(lKNI.\ 0--TKK1I lAKM 

the main line. The many branches of the system which diverge from these 
principal lines, without speaking of the Union Pacific to Ogdcn, make every 
point of California readily accessible. Now we will go up on the main line 
to San Francisco, perhaps take a run up to Portland. Oregon, out to Salt 
Lake, Utah, and when we are ready to come home we will return via the 
coast line. In this way we shall save doubling back over the same road and 
will see the whole country." 





advantages of 
a great system. 

Through the 
San Fernando 

Driving over 
the trail before 
the railroad 
was built. 

"Couldn't be better," said the Growler. " Now that's the advantage of 
this great system. It is so e.xtensive that it reaches every point of interest, 
making the very best of connections and being in the hands of our friends, 
as it were, all the time. ' 

Leaving Los Angeles the road follows for a time the bank of the 
beautiful river, and then commences its -w ...----r --^^ r^ 

climb of the valleys of the Los Angeles «L^' ' ^-"^ 

and San Fernando until, twenty-si.x miles 


from the city, 
and 1,200 
feet above it, 
or at an alti- 
tude of 1,469 

feet, it goes through the great San Fernando tunnel in the range of that 
name. The tunnel is 6,967 feet long. Across here the old Mexican pack- 
trail led, and in the years before the railroad had projected its daring feat 
long strings of burros, loaded with the products of the country, wended 
their devious way through the mountain defile. When Fort Tejon was 
established, the firm of Alexander & Banning, pioneer stage operators of 
Los Angeles, determined to run a six-horse stage over the old trail. People 
i:)ronounced the project visionary and no driver could be found who would 
assume the responsibility. Then Phineas Banning himself declared that 
he would drive the stage and prove that the road was practicable. So one 
day in December, 1854, found him seated on the box at the summit of 
the San Fernando. His six panting mustangs were covered with foam, and 
his nine passengers looked at the seemingly sheer precipice of hundreds of 
feet which was before them, and chose to walk. But nothing could terrify 
Banning. With a crack of the whip and a tightening of the rejns, he 
urged his trembling mustangs forward. They gave a tug and the stage 
started down the mountain side — rackety, crash, bang, it went, sometimes 
the horses ahead of the stage, and sometimes the stage ahead of the horses, 



iiicif wf were saugu»,ihc 

jiiiictiou point 
fur Santa 

until it landed in a thicket of chaparral at the foot of old San Fernando, a 
wild conglomeration of harness, coach, mustangs, and Banning. " Didn't 1 nrK..iij,crc 
tell you so, gentlemen," the driver e.vclaimed, as he extricated himself from J"" ""■»•"« 
the wreck. "A beautiful descent; far less difficult than I anticipated. I 
intended that staging to Fort Tejon and Kern River should be a success, 
and, you see, my judgment was correct." .And ^.-k^^^^ Banning was 
right, for later on the road was improved to such '\J||^^^^ an extent that 
staging was not attended by imminent risk to V^IHB ncckandlimb. 

" This is where we wcjuld leave the main 
going direct to Santa Barbara," said 
the (irowler, when Saugus, thirty-two 
miles from Los Angeles, was 
reached. " It is the junction with 
the Santa Barbara branch and a 
delightful run. But we will come 
down on the coast line and see 
it all, here reaching the main 
line again on our return." 

Beyond Saugus the line follows 
for the most part the Soledad Caiion ||r 
through the San Gabriel Range, with 
the headwaters of the Santa Clara 
close at hand, until at Alpine it enters ■ 
ernmost corner of the Mojave Desert. ^ 
vation is greater (twenty-seven hun- 
than the Colorado Desert, but it wears 
same aspect. Here the yucca palm grow^, 
seem to the ordinary tourist as tho' it had no 
add to the dreariness of the scene, it is made 
English firm who manufacture from it 

quality of printing paper. One .sees " but little of Thc^Mojave 

the great desert which stretches off to the west far into .Vrizona and 
Nevada. There are thrifty looking towns at intervals, and at Mojave a 
junction is formed with the .Atlantic cV Pacific Railway. 

" I want you all to be on the alert now," said the Colonel, when the road 
began winding along Cache Creek and among the spurs of the Tchachapi 
Range. " This mountain chain was long the serious barrier which prevented 
access by railroad to the southern part of the state, and one of the most 
remarkable triumphs of railway engineering ever achieved in any part of 
the world is just ahead of us. North of the summit, which has an elevation 
of 3,964 feet, a group of mountain peaks and vast crags belonging to the 
terminating southwestern spur of the Sierra Nevada disputed the advance 

the west- XhrouRh 


1 he ele- 


tired feet) 

much the 

and tho' it might 

other use than to 

available by an 

an excellent 


The I'assol 








of the steel higluvay. but by a series of complex and bewildering *>..,... and 
finally by actually making a turn where the road crosses itself at the famous 
'Loop,' the pathway was made." 

"There was a hardy class of settlers here in early days, and antelope and 
deer were abundant and. indeed, may be yet in the 
.'* "^ small valleys and romantic canons scattered throutrh 

the range; the forests of pine and s|)reading oaks 
and groves of evergreen giving them safe retreat. 
while the many springs and brooks afford delightful 
camping grounds under the shelter of rugged crags. 
During the dark days of the civil war a desperado 
named Mason collected about him a gang of cut- 
throats who robbed and murdered all who failed to 
pay them tribute. They made the Pass their head- 
(juarters, and terrorized the country until Mason was 
killed by one of his own men, when the organization 
was broken up and a good many of the members 
expiated their crimes on the gallows." 

"The scenery is too beautiful to listen to those 
horrid stories," said the Girl. " Every view from the 
window is different — now a glimpse of a venlant 
valley through great canon walls, and now a dashing brook or a colossal 
mountain mass that makes one feel subdued." 

"Impossible !" replied the Growler. "Certainly nothing could have that 
effect upon a woman." 

"Well, the trip to Catalina had that effect upon you," retorted the (lirl. 
and the Growler subsided. 

Now we entered the great San Joaquin WiUey, that vast basin bounded 
on the east by the Sierra Nevada, and on the west by the Coast Range, a 
great arable plain seventy miles wide, and stretching four hundred and 
eighty miles north and south, from Mt. Shasta to Tehachapi I'ass. Watered 
by the Sacramento and its tributaries in the north, and by the San Joatiuin 
and King's rivers ami their tributaries in the south, sheltered by its 
mountain chains, and with a variety of soil and climate found nowhere else, 
it is the granary of the Pacific coast and one of the great fruit centers of the 
world. The six counties into which the lower 250 miles of the valley are 
divided would each make a state larger than Connecticut, individually 
capable of supporting, as its commercial center, a city of more than 50,000 
people. The average rainfall of this section is ten inches, but agriculture is 
expedited by irrigation on a stupendous scale, the main canal alone of one 
system tapping the Merced River is over twenty-seven miles long, ten feet 
deep, one hundred feet wide at the top antl seventy feet at the bottom. Its 

The Unoos 
" Loop 

It wai a 

ThrouRh the 
Oreat Sau 

The granary 
and vineyard 
of the coast. 




carrying capacity is 3,400 cubic feet per second. This canal, which is but coio*«i 
one of many in this immense valley, was constructed at a cost ..f $3,242,000 iTh?™!^' 
to benefit the territory in its wide neighborhood. 

The temperature of this section rarely falls below 30 . The fertility 
of the soil is amazing, and the profits of agriculture almost beyond 
credulity. Here are orange groves producing eight hundred dollars per 
acre per annum, and blackberry and strawberry gardens yielding to their 
owners up to $1,500 per acre. The vineyards and fruit orchards are Kvemhiug on 
measured by miles square, and their great size corresponds with the almost • ••^•^'^ •***«• 
fabulous yearly revenues derived from them. Among them are scattered 
edifices which resemble the suburban homes of capitalists rather than farm 
houses, which they are — the homes of the owners. 

The local attractions have naturally drawn hither a large number of 


wealtln- people, including many high class and enterprising English : and 
the money spent by such settlers has enhanced the value of neighboring as 
well as their own property. 

rhenomenal natural advantages, industrious development, sagacious The homes it 

'^ . offers. 

expenditure, such are the elements that have made o( the San Joaquin 
Valley a picture of prosperity, whether seen as a sea of green in early 
verdure or glistening with the brown richness of harvest time. 

As the train ran on mile after mile through this wide sweep of fields, 
the Girl broke forth in exclamations of delight. 



The field 
flowers of 



"Oh, what wild flowers! " she exclaimed. "Why the fields are carpeted 
with them! " 

While the train stopped at a station I got out, and gathered an armful to 
bring in to her, and the Colonel said : 

"This is the land of flowers as well as fruits, you know. The poppy, or 
eschscholtzia Californica, is the flower emblem of the state. Its petals are 

larger than your hand, a bright yellow 
shading off into a brilli"ant orange at 
the center. It is in evidence every- 
where, with a 
range from 
]..:'• '^, gold to 




and glorifying 

alike their 

genus and the 

fields where 

they grow. Then there is the violet and the primrose, the sweet-clover that 

ranges from yellow to purple and rose, and the wild geranium, the blue 

larkspur and the scarlet silene. Mingling with the green of the fields they 

make a vivid carpeting that would delight Pan and his attendant satyrs in 

their sylvan revels." 

Talking thus we passed on our way many thrifty towns and cities, the 
Colonel and the Growler indulging in a friendly rivalry as to which should 
give us the most useful information. 

At Bakersfield the Colonel said : " The people of Kern county, of which 
this is the prosperous capital, have turned a river on their farms, for they 
have made Buena Vista Lake a storage reservoir for water, and diverted 

SAN J(>A(jriN V A I. LEV. 


Kern River from its natural bed and compelled it to pour its waters on their 

When we reached Fresno the Growler took a hand and remarked: " Now FresDo.ndiu 
here's a good city, a railroad center and a manufacturing point. From here fnurcitl*"* 
comes one-half of California's enormous crop of raisins. They will soon be 
shipping 4,000,000 boxes a year and it isn't any wonder, for ten and fifteen 
tons of grapes to the acre is nothing unusual hereabouts. A little way 
eastward, in the same county, are vast forests of pine, spruce, hemlock and 
cedar, among which are scattered many specimens of the sequoia gigantea, 
those giants of the forest which attain a diameter of from twenty-five to 
forty feet and grow to a height of five hundred feet sometimes. Vou 
should see how- they bring the timber down from the mountain forests into 
the mills at Madera, which is our next stop." 

'• How do they do it ? " I asked. 

" Well, the timber is cut up in the mountains, and of course a long way off LogKingby 
the railroad. Ordinary means of transportation would not be available, so a 

V-shaped wooded flume has been constructed. . — . • . . The one 

running to Madera is the longest in the 
world, sixty miles. A torrent of (^ 
water pours through 



it and the logs are floated down it. The water not only transports the logs, 
but it furnishes power for the mill which cuts them up and for a number of 
other industries, and is finally made to serve a good purpose in irrigating a 
large area of land." 

" But don't the logs stick sometimes," I queried. 



The millions 
locked up in 
the forests. 

" I never heard of them doing so/' was the reply. " You would not think they 
would stick at anything if you saw them come down. It is with a rush that 
would send them right through a brick block. The flume has a carrying 

capacity of 350,000 
an idea of 

feet per day. Just to give you 

the timber resources of 

it is well to state that a 

estimate of Fresno 

county's timber interests, 

n the basis of 

ten dollars per thousand, °^ ''°'' ""■'" ''*^' francisco. j^ eighty million dollars." 
At Berenda, three hundred and four miles from Los Angeles and less 
than two hundred miles from San Francisco, the Colonel said : 

"This is the junction point for Raymond, beyond which lies the 
Yosemite and the Mariposa big trees, the veritable Garden of the Gods. 
It is but a short rail ride to Raymond, and from there by stage into the 
wonderland of the Yosemite, that great cleft in the Sierras, over whose 
creation scientists have vainly puzzled for so long. The floor of the valley 
is four thousand feet above the sea level, and its towering walls rise five 
thousand feet higher, in sublime massiveness like El Capitan — the fit corner- 
stone on which to set a world — or in spire-like peaks as at the Cathedrals. 
All about are great earth masses, Mt. Dana, Tenaya Peak, South Dome, 
Cloud's Rest, and a score of others, from ten to fourteen thousand feet high. 
Its waterfalls are like veils of mist dropping from their great heights of a 
thousand and sixteen hundred feet ; its pellucid lakes and the brawling 
Merced River, its still forests, all these things have been sung by a host of 
poets, dwelt on lovingly by many writers and made famous on canvas by 
artists like Bierstadt, Hill, and Hertzog. In the Mariposa Grove are 450 

SAN jDAtjllN \Al.l.hV 


of the sequoia gigantea, where specimens of trees thirty feet in diameter 
and three hundred feet tall are not uncommon." 

So we drifted on, crossing presently the San Joaquin River after leaving Dr.w,nR 
Lathrop, where the main line swings to the left while a branch continues "'" 
on to Stockton and Sacramento. Before long we look off across wide 
meadows where the rank water-grass grows. A pleasant, moist, saline odor 
steals into the air, which tells of the near-by ocean, and then we see the 
white sails of moving craft, whose hulls we cannot discern, sunk in the 
devious waterways that are hidden from us by the lush growth of waving 
tule. Presently the glint of blue water comes to us, and before many 
minutes Suisun Bay breaks upon our vision 
and San Joaquin is but a little way back of us 

The delta of the Sacramento Byihc»hore» 

of Suuun and 

The line hugs the coast san p«bio 
closely now all the way into Oakland, the little waves sometimes lapping 
the roadway almost beneath the car windows. Constantly the waterscape 
is changing — always it is lovely. At the Straits of Carquinez, through 
which the waters of Suisun Bay discharge themselves into San Pablo and 
hence into San Francisco's broad harbor, we find a line of tall-masted ships ships that 

1 1 1 1 1 11 1 1 • 'I'l 1 11- 1 carrv the bread 

and black-hulled steamers lymg. 1 hey are the gram carriers loading wheat stuffs t<. the 
from the monster elevators of the Southern Pacific Comjiany to carry it to '"^ 
all parts of the world. At Port ("osta you can get a glimpse of the largest 
ferry boat in the world. It is used to carry trains in their flight to 
Sacramento and Ogden. On the other side of the bay. on the shelving pon costa and 
promontory, is the old town of Benicia, which once hopefully anticipated 
commercial and politi- 
cal greatness. At San 
Pablo station, as we 
skirt the bay of that 
name, we look across to 
the harbor of San Fran- 
cisco and out through 
the portals of the Gol- 
den Gate to where the 
broad Pacific stretches 
to the Orient. It is a 
glorious vision, look at 
it when you w-ill — in 
the dim light of early 
morning, the glow of 

afternoon, when it is gilded by the splendor of the sunset, or mysteriously 
veiled in the shadows of the gathering dusk. To the right is the rocky jieak 
of Alcatraz Island, crowned with frowning guns and the gloomy walls of 
the military prison. On the left Goat Island, with its white buoy station 




The vision of and light-housc, while beyond it rises Telegraph Hill, with the crowding 
Ga%° ^" city pressing all about it — to the water front and farther back than the 
eye can follow toward the great park and the cliffs beyond. And while 
you are drinking in all the beauty and majesty of the splendid panorama, 
the train sweeps into the outskirts of Oakland and down the whole length 
of the mile-long pier to where the huge ferry waits to carry you to the place 
of your hopes, to the city where all that is picturesque and fascinating in 
AndthicisSan anomalous ways of living and traits of national life invite to sight-seeing 

Francisco. i ^ i i • ,. o t7 

and study and enjoyment — San trancisco. 




ON the manv hills that give to it pic- san j-ranciKt*. 
iiiresqueness and variety, San rran- s<|u«rr miirs; 

' pij|iiilatii>n 

Cisco clambers back from the tlock line front- 350..,. From 

New orleanH 

ing the bay where the earners of its com- 1,41,9 mil" 
merce lie, toward the beautiful park of 
the C'.olden Gate that stretches well 
to the westward where the great 
white sand dunes lead to the ("liff 
House and Sutro Park. The 
promontory on which the city 
stands is swept in summer by 
the winds from the west and 
southwest, and in winter by 
those that blow from the south- 
east and north. It is but little 
colder in winter than in sum- 
mer, the mean of the temper- 
ature being from 55^ to 57". 
Invariably the trade wind 
springs up in the morning, and 
tho' the C.irl was distressed by 
its want of consideration for 
milinery, we all agreed that it 
and invigorating. 

realize that this great center hail The^^^ ^.^^ 
within a short lifetime, ' ex- meiuofa 

her hair and 

was refreshing 

"Who could 

i t s inception 

claimed the .oss-housk and i-ortim: ni.i.i k. 

cable cars on our wav to the Cliff House and C.olden Gate Park. "1 he obscure 
little Spanish village of Verba Buenaof ,835 has become the great metropolis 
ofsixtv years later? There were probably not five hundred people here when, 
in Tanuarv 1S48. James W. Marshall made his gold discovery, forty-five 

C'oionel, as we sat on one of the 


iles northeast of Sacramento. 

Then the current of immigration turned 



Days of its 
early growth. 

in which it is 

this way, and in the last ten months of 1849 nearly 40,000 people landed 
here. The story of its turbulent early years, of the prodigal richness of the 
mines and placers that flowed a stream of wealth in here to make men mad, 
of the five great fires that nearly annihilated it, of the fluctuations that 
made stagnation follow eras of activity — but always led to more enduring 
prosperity ; of its millionaires, its sand-lot disturbances, its Chinese agita- 
tion ; these things are matters of common knowledge, for, in a peculiar 
sense, all men have had their thoughts turned to San Francisco, and so 
people who come here for the first time are not surprised either at the 
splendid solidity of the city, its great enterprises or its cosmopolitan life, 
yet the vividness of the charm and novelty of its individuality impress us at 
the beginning and we never quite escape it." 

" Does it differ materially from any other great city in those respects, 
Colonel ?" I asked. 

"Very materially," was the response. "Where will you find another 
Chinatown, for instance — a foreign city, where the natives dress and live in 

every essential respect just as they do at 
ime — in the heart of a thoroughly 


American city. In my judgment Chinatown is the greatest show-place 
in the country — it is worth a trip across the continent to see it any time. 
Golden Gate Park — tho' it is one of the most beautiful in the world 
— does not, perhaps, differ so radically from any other great public 
pleasure ground. But when you think that it has been created upon what 
twenty-five years ago were bare and shifting sand dunes, the fact impresses 
you. The city street-life takes its coloring from the cosmopolitan character 
of the population, and this infusion of many nationalities and tastes runs 
into all its public life — the diversity and degree of its restaurants, the 



Characters one sees on the streets and about the wharves, its amusements, 
etc. But thes-e things you will learn for yourselves better than I can tell 


"1 think it is so delightful to see all thuse (lower sellers about the Lotta 
Fountain," said the Girl. "Where else could one ^^et an armful of ros,-s ..^ 
sweet peas for twenty-five cents?" 

^Well, here is where you will see tlowcr>,' rc-nuirked mc i.nnvler, a> wc 

alighted at the park entrance 
and strolled in. The band 
was playing in the pa- 
vilion, and a great 
wd was listening 
with manifest 

Praturcs uf a 

O.jMcn 'late 
FarW I. coo 
acre* 'jf 

IN 1.1UN V IliW.N 

enjoyment to the excellent music. W'e listened, too, for a little tune, and 

then went on to view some of the beauties of the place — the impressive 

statuary, the great aviaries with their fairy host of Hitting birds, native 

and e.xotic, that here have so wide a range, with running streams of water 

and trees that nod above close thickets that they do not know they are 

captive, and fly about or rear their young in all the abandon of outdoor life; 

the deer glen, where elk and antelope browse complacently ; the great cage, Buffalo and 

where is the monster grizzly bear — now so fallen from his high estate that captmu" 

he opens his great jaws for expected morsels of candy ; the park, where a 

herd of buffalo graze and shake their massive, shaggy heads in simulated 

ferociousness ; the parks and sylvan solitudes, where the feathery fronds of 

lace-like ferns hide in the crevices of dripping rocks, or bright-hued flowers 

lure one to trespass the injunction not to pick them. 



CliflF House, 
Seal Rocks and 
Sutro Park. 

The seals are 



From here we went out to the Cliff House, and, walking up the winding 
roadway cut into the rugged face of the promontory, stood watching the great 
sea-lions that swarmed upon the rocks just off shore. 

"It wouldn't be hard to get a sealskin coat here," said the Girl. "Any- 
body could go out there and capture a seal." 

"No, they couldn't," replied the Growler. "The authorities take good 


care of those fellows, and tho' the fishermen complain that they eat the 
salmon the people are too fond of their pets to permit them to be -harmed. 
You wouldn't find another city that could invite you to come and see its 
seals in their native element like this." 

Strolling through the sightly Sutro Gardens that crown the cliff, we sat 
down finally, overlooking the blue ocean. 


" I see islands far out there," said the Ciirl. 

"I used to be able to," her father replied, "but my eyes are not as The und-* 
strong as they once were. The islands are those of the Farallones, the ^st °'^'*'' 
veritable ' land's end ' of America, and they are good places for the mariner 
to keep away from in bad weather." 

" I'm so anxious to see Chinatown that I don't want to risk postponing 
it by enjoying this lovely view another minute," said the Girl. 

" Not to-night ; I am tired," said the Colonel. 

"It don't matter — you must go," replied his daughter, inexorably, sheinsut* 
" You've been talking Chinatown to me ever since I could walk, and now I chrnat'own 
want to see it." =*'""" 

It goes without saying that she had her way — the Girl generally does — 
and that night found us strolling down Uupont Street in charge of a 
"guide," a wholly useless personage, unless one wants to see more of the she saw the 
seamy side of Mongolian life than he would care to open to the view of the but n^^the' 
ladies of his acquamtance. "I want to see it all," the Girl announced, and 
she really believes to this day that she saw it all, tho' a sly twinkle is dis- 
cernible in the Growler's eye when she mentions it, and I suspect there 
were a good many things the guide did not show us on that or subsequent 
occasions. But, goodness knows, some of them were bad enough. 

For three blocks after you reach the confines of Chinatown, below Cali- where the 

/••r- .T-v -fi-.i .....1 If ciirii I dealers 

forma Street, Dupont is lined with stores given up to the sale of wares keep 
from the Flowery Kingdom. You can buy anything — from silk embroid- 
eries to tea, and from carved ivory to cloisone and satsuma ware. There 
is such a variety of things, and they all seem so cheap, when the Mongolian 
gets down to the bottom of his sliding scale of prices, that one is tempted 
to buy everything in sight. I pitied the Colonel, for the Girl made heavy Thecoionei 
drafts on his e.xchequer, but he stood it like a stoic, and, as the Growler man"^ 
remarked, "he never even whimpered." 

The streets we wandered through were thronged with Chinamen — the 
poorer classes dressed in cotton blouses over their wide trousers, the mer- 
chants in softly ru.stling silks or shiny black cambric jackets, in whose 
ample folds they looked like grotesque manikins. From the little conical 
caps, surmounted with a scarlet knot of braided cord, to the slipshod san- 
dals in which they shuffled along the pavements, their apparel was quaintly 
striking, and as they stood in little groups at the corners or hurried along 
intent on business, the tenor of their conversation or the salutations they street scenes 

, ,,,•/--. »i. » » 4" in Chinatown. 

exchanged were those one would hear in Canton or upon the streets ot 
Hong Kong. Now and again a woman toddled by. her mincing gait made 
unsteady by the high convex shoes she wore, her well oiled black hair fan- 
tastically braided and coiled; or olive-tinted infants, just old enough to walk, 
perhaps, yet perfect fac-similes of their elders in all the details of their cos- 


A I.oitK AKiil 1 SAN FRAN'CISCO. IT;) 

tumes, would cause the Girl to exclaim, "Well, if they are not the ciiiining- 
est little things '. — wouldn't I like to take one home, tho'." 

We went into a drug store where the most conspicuous object m the what the 
window was a featherless chicken in a bottle of blood-stained alcohol — a {;'\J';^""'=»^ '° 
sovereign remedy, this, for certain affections we were told. The almond- 
eyed pharmacist was compounding a prescription which would have fiiltrd a 
half-peck measure when he got all the ingredients together — a handful of 
moss from one box, and a double handful of bark from another, a piece of 
reindeer horn, the leg of a frog, a few choice dried beetles and a multitude 
of other stuff, all to be boiled and the resulting litpiid administered to the 
unfortunate patient. 

The C.iii was interested enough in the grocery stores, where were Thetui-biuot 
displayed dried batsextended upon sticks, and rats smoked until they looked Ltw-c'^'**^^'^ 
like attenuated slices of well cured bacon ; curious roots grown in China 
and various preparations imported from the same "^ ^ i~^^ 

far-off home to tempt the Celestial epicure to in- j if- *'§\M 

dulgence — I say she was interested in all this and " — * ' 
in the narrow and crowded little shops where all 
sorts of handicraft were carried on — in the sil- 
versmiths and shoemakers and pipe repairers who 
prosecuted their avocations at wee benches in the 
street with supreme indifference to the passing 
throng — but when the odors from an underground 
restaurant were wafted to her nostrils she took her 
nose firmly in her hand and quickened her gait. 

She was vastly edified, and somewhat mystified "^ '^"'^''' ' '"■ -"'-^■^^'*^^^" 
to boot, bv the fortune-teller who, sitting in his stuffv little room, with rhtr prophecy 
the mvsterious symbols of his craft upon the walls and the odor of burnmg the mark, 
incense hovering about him, told her " past and future," with creditable 
accuracv, as to the past anyhow. Then a peep into the Chinese theatre. At the lUeatre 

, " , 111 1 ■ • ,- >t was had 

where we sat upon the stage and watched the actors whose mimicry ot enough, 
emotion struck us as even more ludicrous than the infernal din of the 
orchestra that thumped and shrieked at intervals. From here the guide led Ras pickers' 
us into the underground dens and noisome alleys, where squalor lurks and oprumaeii*.^ 
vice hides itself in the gloom of out-of-the-way places. 

"Oh, this gives me the shivers!" exclaimed the Girl, in an awe-struck 
whisper, as she raised her skirts to keep them off the filthy lloors. "We'll all 
be murdered ; I know we will." 

We were groping down a dimly lighted alley, with tall walls all where they 
about us, the stain of years upon them, and overhanging balconies of wood " leinpe. 
that seemed on the eve of tumbling down. Then we turned into a stone- 
paved area, went down a couple of tlights of rickety steps and through a 





She wanted to 
get out then.iD 

111 the 



passage-way, at the end of which a sputterhig lamp gave faint light. 
Through a door and we were in an opium den where the air was heavy and 
blue with the pungent odor and fumes of the narcotic. On the low couches 
men lay in trance-like stupor that was the counterfeit of death, or in the 
stolidity of waning consciousness puffed uncertainly at their long pipes, 
while they held the bowl over the flame of small tapers, or worked with 
nervous manipulation the little globules of black paste to make it ready for 
the drowning of their senses. 

"Let's go out," said the Girl ; "I don't want to see any more of it — I 
can't breathe in here." 

" And yet," said the Growler, " white women do come to these hideous 
dens and 'hit the pipe,' in the inelegant vernacular of the habit." 

Through underground rooms, where men herded like cattle and with less 
of the instinct of cleanliness than the beast of the field, we went, seeing the 
old blind woman who, with a room full of cats, inhabits a miserable hole 


under the very street ; now looking on at greedy-eyed gamblers who, with 
fierce guttural ejaculations of rage or gratification, watched the turn of the 
cards, and again picking our way past groups that huddled in corners to 
divide the spoil gathered in ash heaps And the choice morsels rescued from 
refuse barrels. 


"To the joss-house and the restaurant, and then to the hotel and t<> 
bed," said the Colonel at last. 

" I've seen all of this locality I want to," said the Girl ; " but I'm coming 
to Chinatown to look through the stores every night we stay here, and I 
think some of these Chinese merchants are just as nice as they can be." 

There are half a dozen joss-houses in Chinatown, but the one we visited wiu-reihe 
on this first night was the temple of Kwan Kung, on the west side of woM,Tp false 
Waverly Street, between Clay and Sacramento. The guide explained that it ^"^^ 
was in connection with the Ning Yeung Company, the richest and most 
powerful Chinese guild in California. The entrance bears the inscription, 
" Purify thyself by fasting and self-denial," and the walls of the staircase 
are covered with thousands of slips of red paper that bear the names of 
adherents who have posted them that they may be borne in kindly 
remembrance by their deity. The walls are hung with emblazoned banners, 
and covered with purple and crimson tablets and rich embroideries. The Kwan Kung s 
pagentry of royal courts in the far East is recalled by elaborate carvings, gorgeous^™'* 
and there are stands of spears and battle axes, while brass dragons and ^^"^^ 
bronze bells and great metal bowls, and images of gods are everywhere. 
Beyond the splendid altars, with their costly service of urns and vases and 
censers, enthroned in an odor of incense, is the image of Kwan Kung, the 
god of war, the flower of the chivalry of far Cathay. 

" He isn't very handsome, is he ?" remarked the Girl, irreverently, as she it did not 
gazed upon the hideous features and the seated figure decked in all the "evcrence^"^ 
finery of gorgeous apparel. 

" And wouldn't the wind play havoc with those whiskers ? " replied the 
Colonel, pointing to the jetty hirsute that swept over the bosom of Kwan 
even unto his waist. 

It was only a few steps round to the restaurant where we designed taking The Chinese 

, , ■ , n 111 • ^ restaurant. 

tea — a spacious apartment on the third floor, approached by an imposing 
staircase. Carved dragons amid intricately wrought foliage — all done in 
ebony — formed a frieze around the walls ; colored lanterns shed a soft glow 
over the apartment, which was reflected back from the gorgeous scrolls of 
golden embroidery on the walls. The chairs and tables were of ebony. 
inlaid with pearl. 

•'This tea," said the Growler, balancing one of the delicate little cups, 
" is the perfumed, flowery pekoe. The aroma is delicious." 

"So is the flavor," said the Girl; "but what is this?" 

"Rice cake," was the reply; "and these are 'lichee' nuts in this saucer. Fiowerypekoe 
»•, . , . • ",- 1 • 1 1 ..1 and a few- 

Here s a confectiou — strips of cocoanut, melon rind and other preserves minor 

of a like character. I confess I'm not fond of them myself." 

"With due notice we could have had a genuine Chinese banquet here," 

said the Colonel, " the bill of fare would have doubtless included shark's 



not realized. 

Nob Hill and 
other sights. 

fins and bird-nest soup, pickled eggs and spiced duck heads direct from 
China, varnished pig and a few other delicacies of the kind, with sweet- 
meats first to cloy the appetite and 'sham shu ' or rice brandy to give 
piquancy to the gastronomic revelry." 

" I think you and the Growler could eat anything," remarked the Girl ; 
" but as for me I'm too tired to even think, and I propose that we take the 
shortest way to get to bed." 

It would require too much time to tell all we saw in San Francisco — the 
palatial homes of the millionaires on Nob Hill, the mammoth in the 
Academy of Sciences, the Mint, the great collection of the State Mining 
Bureau, where one can profitably spend hours; the theatres and gardens, the 
Board of Trade display, etc. We went down one day to see the starting of 
a China steamer, an event which is always significant and interesting to the 
stranger. There is all the ordinary bustle attendant upon such an occasion, 
and in addition to this there is the scramble of departing Chinamen to get 
on board. They must have their identification papers examined by the 
custom's officers, who sit at a Ion- '"""" table and inspect 

them one by one. Then 
they run the gauntlet of the 
representa- ^ 
lives of 

Sailing of a 
China steamer. 

''- mf^ 



the Six Companies, to whom they exhibit the proofs that all their dues are 
paid and that they owe nothing to these organizations, which, for a certain 
fixed amount, have perhaps defrayed their passage out here, agreed to care 
for them if ill and ship their bones back home should they di^ abroad. 
These preliminaries disposed of they go on board, preempt a bunk in the 
quarters set apart for them and jirepare for the long voyage ahead. 

And before we left the city we " did " Oakland and Berkeley and Alameda, 



and visited the great navy yard at Mares Island, and saw where the iron Mecca oi the 
men-of-war are built up the bay, and visited the fishermen's dock where the "*"»'"'■''»■"'««• 
luggers lie and the swarthy fisher-folk mend their nets and talk in the 

accent of many tongues; and ^. ^""-^—.^ ^hen we drove 

down to Fort Mason and ^^^""^ ^"""^'-s.,^^ the Presidio, 

where '^^ ^ \^ the army 


The guardians 
of the harbor. 

posts are situated, with cozy homes for the officers and comfortable quarters 
for the men, and where grim-visaged War, as represented by frowning para- 
pets and big black guns, is hidden under the green of shorn lawns and the 
shade of many trees. 

And finally, on the last day of all, when the Colonel was well nigh out 
of patience with our repeated postponement of the date of departure, we 
took a sail on the bay. 

"You could spread Rhode Island down in San Francisco Bay and have The panorama 
plenty of room left," said the Growler. "It's the finest harbor in the country, bay***^*** 
with an admirable entrance, plenty of room for the navies of the world, and 
depth to float any ship and leave a few fathoms under her keel. Coming in 
from the Golden Gate it spreads southward to within a few miles of San 
Jose and Santa Clara, with the bay cities of Oakland, Alameda and Berkeley 
opposite its entrance, occupying there a portion of the old San Antonio 
Rancho, which was in 1820 granted to Luis Maria Peralta. Northward and 
eastward it stretches off into San Pablo and Suisun bays, with hundreds of 
miles of connecting straits and rivers all about." 

From the Heads we came down through the Golden Gate, where the great sailing in 
modern guns were being mounied on an eminence, as a warning to hostile Head! * * 



The bay 
extends 25 
miles north 
and 40 miles 
south of the 
city, and has 
an average 
width of 8 

Far vistas 

The vision of a 
land that flows 
with milk and 

fleets, should such, perchance, approach with a menace to the safety of the 

As we sailed swiftly inward the wide expanse of dancing water and far- 
off shore unfolded like a scroll. Here to the right was the green garden of 
the Presidio, and just beyond the jutting headland of Fort Mason, with its 
vine-clad cottages perched on the shrubbery-hung cliff. Beyond the 
massed buildings with their cobwebby network of cable railways climbing 
the steep incline. Off to the left was Sausalito and Tiburn hiding back of 
Angel Island, with tall Mt. Tamalpais in the background. Before us were 
the grim wave-girt walls of Alcatraz, with seaward pointed guns. The 
coloring of the water you will see nowhere else, for it partakes of the 
wonderful transparency of the sunlight and the opalescent atmosphere and 
the azure of the sky. The hues drift and shade into each other continually, 
and the creamy crestings of the waves are but a satiny frill upon the 
changeable greens and blues of the expanding flood. When we got upon a 
line between Alcatraz and Goat Island we could look northward to where 
the sister bays led off beyond Red Rock and San Quentin ; across to the 
growing centers of population that spread toward the foot-hills of Mt. 
Diablo, and south along the shining, shimmering pathway flecked by white 
sails and skimming gulls that soared and dipped to where the water kissed 
the sky this side of the vast Valley of the Santa Clara. Around us were ten 
thousand happy homes that nestled among the foliage of perpetual bloom ; 
tall city spires and streets that ran between grim blocks of brick and stone 
like white lanes ; mountain peaks and hill tops guarding with jealous care 
the sheltered valleys that lay within their strong embrace ; and the soft 
breeze that blew — no less than the sunlight that was over and about us — 
brought to mind a prophecy of the olive orchards and the vine-clad steeps, 
the ripening peach and orange and the waving fields of dimpling grain, that 
make this the capital of what to the elder seer athirst upon Judean plains 
was the veritable vision of the land that flowed with milk and honev. 






HERE IS a poignant grief in recalling the heartlessness of publishers it is thus the 

• , , , ,• , , ,• • good things 

who inevitably compel struggling authors to condense or eliminate go. 

the very best of their throbbing thoughts. 

Thus the narrator finds the 
limitations of his space 
forcing him to draw his 
recital of a transconti- 
nental journey to a close 
and tell in brief of the 
two trips our party made 
from San Fran- 
cisco before 
starting home — 
the one to Port- 
land, O r egon, 
"•=i travel i n g 

slowly over 

what is ■ • «•.•.:..,-' "■'' 
known as the beauti- 
ful "Shasta Route"— 
the other to Ogden and 
Salt Lake City on the 
Central Pacific division. 


We got away from ban 
Francisco on the evening train, and while we slept were hurried up through 
the great Valley of the Sacramento, through the capital of the state, and by 






From San 
Francisco to 
the distance is 
90 miles. 

many thrifty cities and towns. Here there are immense grain fields, luxuri- 
ant orchards and vineyards where the world's wine supply will some day 
be grown. Marysville is the center of great hydraulic mining enterprises, 
whereby hills were torn down and washed away to get at their gold; Chico, 
where General Bidwell's __— — ___^^^ extensive orchards demon- 
strate the possibilities .^^-"""''^ ^~~""-^»-,.,,^^_^^^that await the fruit 
grower; Red ^^ ^^^\^^Bluff, where 
lumber X ■ ^\ is floated 

There is plenty 
to be seen all 
the way. 

The glory of 
the upper 

The railroad 
crosses it 
rightccii times. 


from the distant mountain sides to meet the needs of commerce, and a 
score of other points well worth seeing, until at Redding we got up to find 
the Sacramento River winding close to the track. Now for eighty miles 
the scenery was a perpetual delight. About us were the Shasta and Mc- 
Cloud mountains and the road follows a narrow rift that winds deviously 
through them. .-Xlways the Sacramento is alongside — now on the right 
hand and now on the left — a stream of infinite beauty. It is a mad moun- 
tain torrent that grows wilder and more impetuous as you near its head- 
waters far up toward the timber-line of Shasta. Over its rocky bed, ob- 
structed by massive black bowlders, it churns itself into foam. It dashes 
furiously against granite walls that impede its progress, or swirls in green 
eddies beneath the protecting (lanks of cliffs where deep pools invite the 
angler to the finest trout fishing. The road crosses and recrosses it 
eighteen times in all before we finally leave it far up in the higher ranges. 

"There are ragged peaks for you! " I said, as the train stopped. 

" And look at that green dell, and the beautiful house !" said the Girl. 



''Castle Crags — a naked ritlge of granite," remarked the Growler. Th«.-castie 
"That far high peak is 6,ioo feet high and it towers more than 4,000 feet 
above the river bed. The Crags belong to the Trinity Range, a spur of the 
Sierra Nevadas, and the dividing line between Shasta and Siskiyou counties 
crosses them. Col. Hastings was the first owner of Soda Springs ranche 
back in 1844. Since then the Indians and miners and hardy trappers have 
had their day, and there have been bloody battles and ambuscades and 
solitary duels that the world will never know of. Now the tavern of Castle 
Crags invites the dilettante to spend his hours of idleness here, in the 
enjoyment of the finest hunting and fishing to be found anywhere and the 
revelry of a climate unsurpassed. And now for the Soda Springs." 

It would be a thankless task to attempt a description of Mossbrae Falls Mossbrae Faiu 
and Shasta Soda Springs. Imagine a great mountain canon with pine clad soda springs. 
sides that reach hundreds on hundreds of feet above your head. At the left 
the dashing river — on your right a sheet of water that pours across the face 
of a cliff hung with the green tendrils of dense moss. And a little way 
beyond are the Soda Springs — the sharp hillside 
broken bv rills that toss madlv down from far 


heights, while in places jets of water 

spout up eighty or a hundred feet and fall in plume-like showers of glisten- 
ing spray. 

"It isn't really soda water?" the Girl asked, incredulously. 

"Get out and see," replied the Growler, and we did, drinking deep from carbonated 
the stone-walled spring under the pavilion. The pure carbonated and that you buy. 
ferruginous water was as cold as though it flowed from the icy heart of the 

"I think this is the most beautiful spot on earth," said the Colonel, as 



The climb to 

At Sisson the 
best view is to 
be had. 

we walked slowly back to the train. "There is every element that could 
add charm to the landscape. Four and a half miles from here, at eigh- 
teenth crossing, we will part company with the Sacramento. The elevation 
there is |HHH^^^^HH^^HIH||^^|HB 2,SiS feet, and we enter 
upon the ^^^^^^^^^P^^^^^^^^^^^^H' mountain climb in 

The road swings about 
and runs for five and a 
ich the next station — 
lis distance we have 
lundred and thirty feet, 
'he scenery is impress- 
ive. Through black tun- 
nels the way winds, 
now on the edge 
of dizzy gorges, 
where far below 
the deep caiion 
yawns. The grade 
is two and a half 
feet to the hun- 
dred, and grows 
even steeper be- 
fore you drop into 
the valleys of Ore- 
gon that await you. 
The building of 
the road through 
this colossal bar- 
rier was a vast un- 
dertaking, deemed 
an engineering 
and financial im- 
possibility for a 
longtime. But the 
two powerful loco- 
motives draw us steadily upward until at Sisson the great view of Shasta 
breaks upon us in all its majesty. Fourteen thousand four hundred and 
forty feet it lifts itself, the vast old volcanic pile. At its base the dense 
chapparel clusters with spruce and pine and cedar, sentinel-like, towering 
above the lower growth. Then come the firs, the stunted tree stalks and 
the scant litchen that encroach upon the l^ald peak. Above, about the 
great extinct crater, the crown of snow lies glowing in the sunlight. 





The longest observed lines in the world were taken from the summit of Ba>«r of ionK«t 

Shasta to connect the lines of the main triangulation, of the coast and 
geodetic surveys— from Mt. Shasta to Mt. St. Helena, one hundred and 
ninety miles as the crow tlies. On the summit Capt. A. F. Rodgers set up 
the geodetic monument twenty years ago — an iron column carried up in 
sections on the backs of Indians. It is from Sisson that parties start to 
make the ascent of Shasta. In talking about the feat, the Growler said: 

" The trail is up through the great lava trough off there on the right. 
The distance from snow or timber line to Thumb Rock (a sharp projection 
on the crest of the south flank of the mountain) is between four and five 

KfiKlrtic line 
in the worUl. 

How ihe ascent 
is nia<le. 


II AS I \ Ror riv 

kelic of the 
oUl volcanic 

miles ; from Thumb Rock to the summit, three-quarters of a mile ; from 
there to Shastina or Crater Peak on the north, say a mile and a half. 

"A relic of the ancient volcanic fires is to be found a few hundred feet 
below the main summit, in the shape of a hot steam solfatara. The ascent 
is not dangerous, and to persons in sound health and possessing will-power 
not very difficult ; yet quite a large percentage of starters never reach the 
highest point, the reason, no doubt, being that the sensations produced by 
severe exercise in high altitudes are sometimes alarming. The general rule 
is to leave Sisson about noon, or in time to reach the upper camp by 
nightfall, to which point there is a good saddle trail. .\n early start is 
made the following morning, while the snow crust is strong, and after from 
six to eight hours of tramping, the summit is reached. The view from the The panorama 
crown, it is needless to observe, is one of boundless sublimity: the Modoc 

from the top. 



Mountain tops 
like tents all 

The beauties 
of the 

lava beds, the giants of the Southern Cascade Range, the Siskiyou, Salmon 
and Scott ranges, Castle Crags and the deep gorge of the Sacramento, 
Lassen's Peak and the receding snowy shafts of the Sierra on the south, 
and on the east a far-reaching panorama of mountain, lake and forest. 
The eye is gorged with visions of grandeur and magnificence. The time 
to climb the old peak is from the first of June to the last of September." 

All the way down the long plateau of Strawberry Valley we watched the 
great pinnacle whose majestic summit was eleven thousand feet above us. 
Off to the west were the Scott Mountains whose main cloud cap gives birth to 
three rivers. To the north is Black Butte or Muir's Peak. In the south- 
west the serrated columns of Castle Crags rise above their setting of pine. 

On the Siskiyous the grade reaches one hundred and seventy-four feet 
to the mile, and from Gregory to Ashland is a continuous succession of 
awe-inspiring pictures. Up and ^^.-'-— ^' —^ — ^ up the road 

climbs to the summit, and ^-'"""'^ ^ ^^^ then it creeps 

sinuously down the great 

turning on 





again until you look from yuur 

window to see 

Ten pouiiils of 
air on the 

three lines of rails on successive looking into kogue rivick val- steps of the 

. , , , „,, LEY FROM THK SISKIYOUS. . , ■ , 

mountain side below. 1 here are wide chasms 

spanneil by trestles, from whose clear heights one looks off over the tops 
of tall pines to the Valley of the Rogue River spread beneath. When the train 
stops at Ashland and one of the engines is detached, inspectors tap the car- 
wheels and feel them furtively, while the engineer, in his blue overalls, says: 
" It takes ten pounds of air on the brakes comin' down there, and some- 
times the wheels are rt-d-hot when we get to the bottom." 



" There are many tempting things about Rogue River Valley," said the 
Colonel. " It is not only a sheltered and fertile garden spot, but it has 
natural wonders singular to it. Of course you know that it was up in the 


north end of it that 'Old Joe Lane' fought the Indians and pretty nearly j^J^^^e Rogue 
wiped them out. From Medford you can reach by team Crater Lake, lying 
on the summit of the 
Cascade Range. 
Here is a 


great cup hollowed out of the primeval rock, eight thousand feet above th- 
ieve! of the sea. It is twenty miles in circumference and a mile deep, and is 
half full of the purest water you ever saw. The walls of rock rise to a sheer 
hei^i-ht of from one to two thousand feet above the surface. The Klamath 



Indians have a superstition that no member of their tribe can look upon this 

lake and live." 

Througli the Umpqua and Calapooya mountains into the Valley of the 

Williamette, down whicli stream we follow — past Oregon City, where the 

wide white fall of tumbling water charms us, ami at last into Portland we 

s I c a m — I'orilanil, 
with its mountain-set- 
ting ami its near-by 
Columbia that rolls 
majestically to the 
sea. capable of carry- 
ng any commerce on 
Its broad bosom, and 
hiding in its depths 
the vast wealth of the 
salmon fisheries. Hu- 
man vision never rest- 
ed on a fairer spot for 
a city — a plateau be- 
side the Williamette, 
where the great busi- 
ness center stands, 
with its perpetual tes- 
timony of wealth and 
enterprise, and rising 
into the thorough- 
fares of homes that 
climb to the overlook- 
ing heights. Off in 
the distance three 
snow-clad peaks raise 
their \vi d e- f a me d 
brows dauntlessly — 
Mt. St. Helen, Mt. 

MAIDEN HAIR FALLS, MCAR PORTLANO, OUKCON. ^^ ^^ .^ j^^ ^ jj „ ^j ^[^ 

Ranier. From here the Southern Pacific tourist may easily run over to Taco- 
ma and Seattle, the twin emporiums that stand guard over Puget Sound, there 
to take a steamer voyage of a night over the most entrancing of waters to Vic- 
toria and Vancouver, to tread the soil of Her Britannic Majesty. Or he can 
find nearby Portland enough of sight-seeing to occupy many days— on the 
Columbia River, which for si.xty miles above, to the Dalles, runs through 
colossal cliffs that dwarf the Palisades of the Hudson into insignificance: 
where waterfalls eight humlred feet high loss their milky veils into the air ; 

By the 
into Portland. 

Where the city 
is built. 

The Sound 
invites one. 

Cp and 
<lown the 
Wonderland of 
the Columbia. 



The 833 mile 
trip from San 
Francisco to 

In the warm 
sheltered by 
the Sierras 

where islands of curious form rise, pine-begirt, from the swift, broad river; 
seeing the salmon fishers, whose slow wheels compel the river current to do 
their work. Or on the lower reaches toward Astoria he can visit the great 
canneries and see the fleet of iisher-boats that sail out across the treacherous 
bar to make capture of the silver-armored fish. 

Nor was our trip to Ogden and Salt Lake a whit less filled with vivid 
interest and the novelty of new sensations awakened by the changing scenes 

upon the way. The 
building of this line 
in I S63-9 completed 
the first of the great 
transcon ti nen tal 
railways, made pos- 
sible the vast de- 
velopment of the 
Pacific Coast. 

and awakened new inspiration 

.iKi.1,1 scicNK AND pntLie iuiiLDiN(;s IN t li TO Ugh out t hc natlou . The march 

OGDEN, UTAH. ^^ empire took its way across the 

inland realm, which Lewis and Clark and Bonneville and the argonauts of 

'49 had found so strange and terrible. 

In the warm valleys beyond Sacramento the orchards of olive and 
orange sleep, with every fruit and flower of the Mediterranean zone finding 
a congenial home, while but a little way beyond the pine-clad Sierras are 
dotted by crystal lakes. At Bucklin we are two hundred and forty-nine 
feet above the sea, and now the road begins its ascent of the mountains, 
for the elevation rises swiftly until at Summit, one hundred and ninety-five 

TO (){;i)EX AM) SAl.r LAKF. 


miles from San Francisco, we are seven thousand and seventeen feet above 
tide water. Off from Colfax one may take the narrow gauge into Grass Val- 
ley and Nevada City, where deep mining can best be seen and where the 
rich quartz ledges seem inexhaustible. Between Colfax and Cisco, thirty- 
eight miles, the ascent is thirty-five hundred and twelve feet. Whirling The snow 
through the snow sheds, catching glimpses of Donner Lake, lying like a great oJiinc's uke. 
sapphire in its pine setting among the clustering crags. .At the summit we 
got out to have a snow-balling bout in the tunnel-like sheds. 

At Truckee, the Growler said : 

"This is the favorite point of departure for fishermen who seek Donner, The 


Tahoe, ^^ ebber and the other lakes, or the innumerable trout streams within paradise. 
a radius of a few miles. Vou should eat these trout, fresh from their cold 
element, broiled in camp style, to know what a fish can taste like." 

Then the road begins its long descent of the mountains, with tlu- serene 
handiwork of the Creator all about — the great buttresses of rock carved in 
every fantastic shape — the fir-clothed steeps whose bold heads are lost in 
the clouds, the mountain streams that swirl and eddy madly beside the 
track or are lost like metallic threads at the bottom of profound abysses in 
canons into v.'hose precipitous depths you look for a 

fleeting y^" ^^ instant as 

the jOS S^ J^^ k i-.i.^^..^ L^ s ..^<^ train 



goes by. At Reno you feel as tho' you had reached the lowlands again, but 
the elevation is forty-four hundred and ninety-seven feet, and the great plateau 
varies little from this for six hundred miles — until you reach the end of the 
road at Ogden. Reno is the thriftiest citv in Nevada. The commercial me- Reno. Nevada, 

'' , .. - and the 

tropolis — made beautiful by the Truckee River that divides the town — the Truckee 
loveliest stream upon the continent, if we except only the upper Sacramento. 
"There's another thing we can't afford to miss but must," said the 



Colonel. "The trip to Carson and tlie great lionanza muies upon the famous Thebig mines 

Comstock Lode at Gold Hill and \'irginia City. 
"Is this the point of departure ?" 1 inquired. 

"Yes," was the reply. "It is only a run of a few hours through a 
country the like of which you will never see elsewhere. Toward the end 

of the line, at 

Virginia City, 

the road winds 

a bout the 


^ tops, on 

some ot 

'' the 

of the 



heaviest /% 
until you look 

upon the great takes tahob and donnkr 

'Camps' which have, in something like thirty vears, added four hundred mil- 
lion dollars in gold and silver to the wealth of the world. To make the descent 
into one of these mines, dropping, say eighteen hundred feet — tho' some 
have been worked as deep as thirty-three hundred feet — and then explore a 
part of the vast underground city which has been excavated, the galleries 
where the heat is so intense that men could not work in them but for the 
constant supply of air pumped in under great pressure ; the Sutro tunnel 
that pierces the mountains for a distance of five miles to drain the mines, 
labyrinthine passages which lead forbiddingly in every direction — is indeed 
an experience never to be forgotten, but one made wholly agreeable by the 
courtesy of all you meet." 

There were picturesquely dressed but sore-eyed Indians at Reno, and 
from now on a little group of them appeared at each station almost — the 


world, where 
the precious 
metals hide. 

Fiutes and 






old crones begging, the men standing about with an expression of stolid 
indifference. They ride without money and without price on the trains of 
the Central Pacific, confining themselves to flat cars or the platforms of 
passenger coaches, however. Wadsworth is the point of departure for the 
Pyramid I.ake region, and beyond this the great sage brush desert reaches out. 
On the gray hills juniper grows, but it disappears as you get farther east- 
ward. There is plenty to attract attention, however — the sink of the Hum- 
rbo"[t^tife"sink boldt River where it loses itself in the desert sands; the lake of the same name, 
Humboldt lying in a region which once, science declares, was made fertile by copious 

rains after the great sea that covered it had subsided ; the sharp hewn hills 
of blue, and the clear high table-lands, until Ogden is reached, with its stir of 
metropolitan life, and but a few miles beyond, Salt Lake City, near by the 
Dead Sea of America. 

Here the traveler finds much to interest. He wants to see the Bee Hive 
house and the grave of Brigham Young, the great Salt Lake itself, the 
splendid temple with its airy angel on the topmost pinnacle, the tabernacle 
where the thousands of Latter Day Saints congregate to hear their laws 
expounded, and the huge choir sing; ^ g^sai— "^^Bafci ^ ^^ the govern- 
mentpostupontheoverlooking ^^li^^^ ^^^W hill, and, 

above all, the city itself, with JT ^V its one 

The City of 
the Saints by 
the Dead Sea 
of Utah. 

hundred and 
thirty-two-foot wide streets, 
shaded with swaying trees 
and flanked by flowing water 
PALISADES oi- Tin-; HUMBOLDT. brought lilthcr from its far- 

off sources in the hills. It is a city with every modern charm set down in what 
was a desert when Brigham Young and his enthusiasts came upon it in their 
pilgrimage, and one who looks upon it has a startling awakening as to what 
courage and labor can accomplish upon these great plains of our arid region. 







HKN we turned our faces homeward after weeks of wandering, we Down the 
took the Coast line of the Southern Pacific. " You have seen the 

garden and the granary of the world in our tour through California," said 
the Colonel ; " now you will get a glimpse of Elysium. The Coast division 
runs through a section which to California is what the rest of the state is to 
the blizzard-haunted Dakotas. It's a little nearer perfection than any other 
portion of the slope." 

" Every body talks so much about the great hotels that I don't believe 
there's a thing to be seen all the way down to Saugus but big resorts," said 
the Girl, saucily. 

"Wait and see," replied the (irowler, and straightway relapsed into 

The Southern Pacific's Coast division is the only road having a depot Through the 
and running directly into the city of San PVancisco. Starting from the thedty.^"^ 
Townsend Street station the train winds out through the city and over the 
low hills, which, rib-like, jut across the isthmus, ^^'e pass the great ceme- 
teries, wisely set well out from the tenements of the living, and presently 
are in the Santa Clara Valley, passing suburban towns, where handsome 
residences, hidden in great clumps of foliage, suggest how affluence has 
added art and lu.xury to the comforts of the country. 

"There is a beautiful drive which one can take, starting say from San MenioPark 
Mateo or Menlo Park," remarked the Colonel, "and leading through the fiouaires!' 
loveliest of highways past the houses of some of the great millionaires. 
They have been generous in expending their millions upon their homes and 
in the grounds about them, and have carried the art of the landscape gar- 
dener to its highest perfection. 

"The Spring Valley Water Works, located in this county, supply the Adamthat 
greater portion of the water consumed in San Francisco, and the dam which 
holds the gathered stock is one of the remarkable things of the kind in the 
world — two hundred and si.\ty-five feet high." 

Just beyond here, at Mayfield, is the Stanford University, with an 




The Stanford 

endowment of twenty million dollars from Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford. 
Created but a few years ago, it already ranks as one of the foremost schools 
of the world, and in no essential other than its architec- 

ture does it differ from any great 
/ institution of learning. The 

buildings conform to the 
climatic conditions* 
^ and are ar- 

ranged with 
a view to 

mostly one 
story, with 


Be sure and 
pronounce this 

tile roofs, and wholly harmonious in design and the details of construction. 
" To me this is the jewel of the whole coast," said the Colonel, that even- 
ing, as we sat upon the broad veranda of the sumptuous flower-begirdled 
Vendome in San Jose. " I know no lovelier place than this to which the 
San Ho-say." Spanish soldiers first came with their families as a protection to the Santa 
Clara Mission in 1777. Subsecjuent generations have confirmed the good 
taste of those first settlers and have built here a city distinguished for its 
costly and imposing public and private buildings. The people who live 
here like to call this the 'Athens of the Pacific Coast,' because it is the seat 
Thevaiieyof of SO many placcs of learning, but I like it for the activity of its business 

the Santa 

Clara. life, the charm of its shaded and well kept streets and for the beauty of all 

its environments. Off there a few miles is the richest quicksilver mine in 
the world, the famous Almeden. The level vallev and the foot-hills which 



rise upon either side are the homes of the contented Iruit-grower and 
farmer, who find them inexpressibly productive." 

"For a little while after the meeting of the Legislature of 1849 San Jose 
was the capital of the state," spoke the Growler, reminiscently. "and it has 
kept on growing ever since with no apparent regret that Sacramento won 
its statesmen away from it." 

At seven o'clock the next morning we were off to Mt. Hamilton and the 
Lick Observatory. F. H. Ross, Sr., was there himself to see the passengers of 
his stage line get under way. And Frank Ross, Jr., was there, too. Every- 
body who visits Mt. Hamilton — and everybody who visits San Jose does — 
knows the Ross family, and it is wonderful how their courtesy and care has 
impressed itself upon those who have made that ideal journey. Well, they 
bundled us into the long, comfortable stage, gave a few parting instructions 
to the driver " to be sure and point out" such and such a feature, of the way- 
side. The grizzled Jehu nods a gruff but kindly promise to care for us, 
cracks his long whip over the heads of the leaders, and we are off. Now 
we rattle through the streets, down miles of shady avenue on Alum Rock 
Highway and then into the foothills, up which we wind amid orchards and 
vinevards until at Grand \'iew House the panorama of the Santa Clara 

Mt HatniUoD 
and I.ick 

Sta>;e ride 
across the 

Valley is laid before 


held hi s 

" O If 
tains, and 
Sierra Mo- 

i/w/'f : 

us. The Girl was in ecstacies, the 

complacent, and the Colonel, as he 

hat in his hand, said : 

there are the Gavilan Moun- 

here the Santa Cruz and there the 

rena. That silvery sheen far off is 

San Francisco Bav." 

Below us the valley 
lay like a vast checker- 
board with the city in 
the middle distance — 

i^f" the deep brown of the new 
^:% plowed fields harmonizing with 
'I '"ikiiSfP the vivid greens of the expanses 
, ^ -^/•''i^' I ' V where young grain waved and 
y^""'-" j^il^^Ca!?*. with the darker shadings of 
the budding orchards. Then 
the road wound down into 
Hall's Valley, up again around Cape Horn and into Santa Ysabel Caiion. 
Then the seven mile climb of Mt. Hamilton begins. More than three 
hundred times the road turns upon itself — winding now on the brink of great 
gorges, and again zig-zagging through narrow caiions or on the wide shelf 
of sloping hillsides beneath which the landscape unrolls and the eye looks 

The view of 
the valley 




Like a bit of 
some other 

Things that 
one recalls. 

off over the valley and woodland and low-lying pasture with the great white 
dome above, seemingly as evanescent and unreachable as the pot of gold at 
the end of the rainbow. At last we are at the summit, beside the world- 
known institution which that stolid, reserved man, James Lick, created by 

his bequest 
of seven 
t h ousand 

" There's 
about all 
this," said 
the Girl, 
v\ h e n the 
guide had 
shown us 


and we stood ^' ^'l^^g£^jm 

again upon i- 

the wide portico 

in front of the mam 

building. " It don't 

seem as tho' it really belonged 

to the earth and was of things earthly. 

"I feel like a boy who has had a hard lesson at school," I replied. " I 
remember that the dome containing the great thirty-six-inch equatorial has a 
diameter of seventy-five feet and weighs a hundred and thirty tons; that it, 
like the great fifty-six foot telescope could be moved by a child. I can 
recall how the earthquake register works, and something about the meridian 
circle, the photographic telescope, and even have a faint recollection of the 
horizontal photo-heliograph, but that's absolutelv the limit.'' 




" But none of us will forget the toml) of James Lick," replied the The 
Colonel. " As I stood before the simple slab that covered the mausoleum j^m«'uck.°^ 
in the base of the great telescope where his ashes sleep. I felt tiiat nobler 
burial or greater monument could no man have, and that the kings of earth 
might envy the sluewtl old miller who had builded for himself a tomb so 

The next mornnig we took the narrow gauge to Santa Cruz. Tlie ride 


is one which rivals anything upon the Shasta division or over the Sierras, 
for tho' the mountain groups are not so massive the effects are equally fine. 
The line follows a mountain gorge so deep and sinuous and narrow that 
there is just room for the roadway and a brawling brook that boisterously 
disputes every inch of the way. At the big trees we left the train to drive To the big 
over with M. C. Hopkins, the tourist stage man of Santa Cruz, who awaited santa cru? 
us. One spends an hour, with admiration that merges into wonder, in the 
great grove of Powder Hill Canon, where the sequois sempervirens grow. 
These colossal forest giants that spring three hundred feet skyward, and 
measure sometimes twenty feet in diameter, awe one. There is a reveren- 
tial silence that steals u])on the consciousness like the recollection of the 
lullaby your mother crooned in the eventides of long ago. antl one feels that, 
indeed, these were the trees among which God's first temiiles were. Then uown the 

. , . Canon of the 

the six-mile drive to Santa Cruz is one of infinite delight. 1 he wav is san Lorenzo 

* River 

through the Canon of the San Lorenzo River. Hundreds of feet below the 
river dashes — a white ribbon, foam-flecked and mad witli the revelrv of 



Early Spanish 
visitors made 
note of it. 


near-by commingling with the sea. On each side the sheer cHffs rise, or 
pine- clad slopes that seem too steep for mountain goat to climb. 

When Juan Cabrillo came in 1542, he noted the wooded mountains that 
rose back of where Santa Cruz now stands. Sir Francis Drake made men- 
tion of the place and so did Viscaino, but it was not until 1791 that Padres 
Salazar and Lopez established the Mission of the Holy Cross. If we should 
travel "due east " 
of Santa Cruz, we 
would pass say 
seventy-five miles 
south of St. Louis, 
would strike St. / 
Vincent, the 
extreme / 
point of 


then south 

of Seville, 

n d but a 

little north of 

(libr altar, while 

Nice and Cannes 

and Mentone and 

-Jt all the famous Ri- 

ON THE liliACH .•VT SA.NTA CRUZ. ■ 1 1 1 • 

viera would lie 
four hundred miles to the north of the direct line pursued. 

Beyond where the town lies under the shelter of the mountains and 
stretches towards the sea, the wide blue Pacific expands. Toward the 
north the shore line rises into cliffs, where the breakers have worn caves 
and natural archways, into which the long rollers crash with reverberant 
boom and the lashings of spray. To the south, where the sightly and 
homelike Sea Beach Hotel stands in its bankings of flowers, the shelving 
white beach of the bay sweeps like the curved blade of a scimiter. 


"And now for Del Monte," exclaimed the Girl. "What times we'll have Ah: it u Dei 

^1 I I T> I. ■ r 11 Monte, at last. 

there ! — why, 1 ve been wantmg to see it for years. 

"There is no danger of our discounting your enjoyment by talking of 
it," said the Colonel ; "it will be all that you e.xpect. We could have come 
down here via Carnadero and the Cafion of the Pajaro had we been disposed 
to have missed Santa Cruz." 

" Well, it 's near Monterey, isn't it ? " I asked. 

"Just a mile," was the reply, "and a strange old town it is, founded by oidiownof 
the Spanish long before Shakespeare wrote. It became the birthplace of 
the commonwealth of California. The old mission, which stands near by, 
was established in 1770. Here Commodore Jones planted the American 
flag in 1842, and Fremont was succeeded by Commodore Sloat in 1846. 
But however quaint and interesting the old town is, the modern art which 
has fashioned the great pleasure-ground there has given it more fame. The 
ocean does not bite deeply into the land. The great Del Monte stands in a 
grove of ancient oaks but a few hundred vards from the surf-line. North- Thecedarsand 

. " . 1 /•- 1 ^^*^ seasons. 

ward the splendid beach spreads, affording a drive ecjual to that at Galves- 
ton. To the south and west, where the peninsula reaches out, the coast is 
wild and rocky. On the peninsula the Santa Lucia Mountains find their 
northern terminus, and here the pines grow, a species resembling the cedars 
of Lebanon. In the summer the soft trade winds blow in from the far 
northern ice fields, tempered by the Japan current, which brings the balm of 
Asia to our shores. In the winter the winds come from the south, with 
their tropic heats cooled by the great expanse of sea over which they 

"But Del Monte, and its gardens and drives!" exclaimed the Girl, 

"Oh, those are things you must see to appreciate," was the suave reply. 

If vou care to get at the old Spanish significance of the name of the Local 

•^ ° I c significance 

Hotel Del Monte you will find it means " Hotel of the Forest. It was very ofthename. 

wise to preserve in its nomenclature the characteristics of the place, for 

the oaks and pines of incalculable age, among which it is set, possess 

a perennial charm. Gnarled and distorted, voluptuous with abundant 

glaucous foliage, grotesque in whimsical distortion, or aggressive in their 

serene and implacable individuality, the hoary oaks cluster thick, while .\ncientoaks 

among them are the dignified, symmetrical and shadowy pines, with the pines"" 

exudations of their balsam, the fragrance of their breath and the crooning 

of their boughs, in whose harp-like melody the storm and the summer 

zephyr sound their requiem or iheir vesper hymn. The great hotel, where 

five hundred guests may find a home, stands in the midst of a garden of a 

hundred and twenty-six acres — a garden that would experience no lessened 

dignity in a competition with those of Kew or Kensington. All the year 

TIIROUC.II Tin; ,sAI.INA>. 2(»1 

round myriads of flowers bloom and run riot in the glory of color and The luxuriance 
fragrance. From every country in the world and every tropic they have "'"'*'* s^""*^"*- 
been gathered, and scientific hybridization in the extensive propagating 
houses has evolved unique varieties of great beauty. 

What a delight it all was! How we lost ourselves in the cypress maze, The maze, the 
roamed on the Laguna del Rey. or '-Lake of the King;" studied with great drivl^' 
renewed interest the hundreds of curious fauna that grow in the Arizona 
garden, reveled in the sylvan delights of the seventeen-mile drive, where 
every phase of scenic effect reveals itself ; bathed in the breakers on the 
beach or in the great pools of the enclosed, glass-covered, palm-decorated 
bathhouse. The days drifted by in the enjoyment of it all, until there 
came the poignant realization that there was a limit to our time, and we 
left it regretfully and with many inward promises that wc should come 

Now down through the Salinas V'allev our way led, the molten thread southward by 

r I ■ 1 r t ■ 'rr>i ^ 1 Ihe Salinas. 

of the river near by most of the time. The names of the stations were 
imbued with the euphony of their Spanish derivation that gave a liquid 
softness to their pronunciation, even in the speech of the brakeman whn 
bawled them in at the car door. 

"This means 'The Pass of the Oaks,'" the Colonel said, when the Paso del Robies 
brakeman called "Paso del Robies," shortly after he had pointed out the springs, 
old Mission of San Miguel. " It is a good place to come to," he added, 
pointing up to the great hotel in its setting of encompassing lawn. The 
hot sulphur and mud baths here have a world-wide fame, and for the cure 
of rheumatism and a score of other diseases are unsurpassed. Indeed, this 
is a region of springs. There is one of sand not far, off with a temperature 
of one hundred and forty-si.\ degrees, soda and white sulphur, and an iron 
or chalybeate spring. 

"And there are plenty of things to interest a well person, too," chimed Things to be 

• , ■ ■. r T. seen near by. 

in the Growler. "It is any easy drive over to Morro Bay, on the coast. 
The Adelaide quicksilver mines are near ; so, too, are the Painted Rocks, the 
trout fishing of Santa Rosa creek, the great prune orchards, the glens and 
canons of the mountains, the diversified landscape of the ranches and the 
oak-clad valleys and hillsides that stretch away in every direction." 

"This whole country is Nature's wonderland," said the Colonel, as we overthe 
stood on the rear platform of the car, approaching San Luis Obispo. The san'mis 
line is another marvelous piece of railway construction as it scales the 
Santa Lucia Range. Within a few miles there are seven tunnels, the longest 
a mile and a quarter. Swinging down from the last declivity the road makes 
a ten per cent curve with a grade of one hundred and sixty feet to the mile. 
The climb over these heights is of continuous interest. The clouds seem not 
far off, and below, far, far down in the depths of green caiions, or upon the 




Pismo Beach 
and other 

A spread for 
any one. 

Treasures of 
the hills. 

distant hillsides, one sees the white trail of the old stage road winding ser- 

"San Luis is a place to be remembered," the Colonel continued, -'per- 
haps not because it is a pretty town or the seat of the old mission merely, 
but because of all its environments. Twenty miles away, through the love- 
liest of mountain drives — where you see ^^.^-— — ~~ — ~-*..,.,^ flowing 
gas and' sulphur wells, or mountains of 
bituminous rock so skillfully com- 
pounded in 
the labora- 
tory of na- 
ture that it 
only needs 

Beach, the most magnificent sweep of sand in the world, twenty miles long, 
hundreds of feet wide and hard as a floor." 

"And what clams one can gather there," said the Growler, with a remi- 
niscent twinkle in his eye. "Each tide brings in thousands of them, of a 
flavor I have never known equaled. Some day great summer resorts will 
make this beach known to every lover of the sea." 

" Why, you can find anything in these hills," continued the Growler. 
"Cinnabar, quicksilver, silica, chromium, asphaltum, gold, silver, iron, cop- 



per, coal and alabaster. Vast fortunes arc auaiuni^ develojjnit-nt. N(j\v, if 
I was younger I " 

" Younger," said the Girl ; "why, you dear old creature, I wouldn't want 
you to be a day younger.'' 

" No, I suppose not," replied the Growler, with a pretense of sadness. 

The Southern Pacific line is being built through from San Luis Id join 
the Santa Barbara division. .Already it is some thirty or forty miles beyond, 
but one can take the Pacific Coast Railway, which e.vtends from San I.uis to 
Los Olivos, through a region of romantic beauty, and at Los Olivos boarii nycoa.stiine 
a stage for a ride of forty miles across the mountains to Santa Barbara, sa ma Barbara. 
The drive is one to be made by every tourist, for it is over the rugged 
summits of the mountains, with visions of the far Pacific and its jewel-like 
islands, of wooded hillsides and fertile valleys in between. And when the 
coach rolls into Santa Barbara there is the final reward of an unrivaled 
and a splendid scene. 'Ihree hundred and fifty years of romance and the 
pathos of many life tragedies cling about this lovely spot, where now 
handsome modern homes and wide paved streets and busy shops hem in 
the great grav mission, where the cowled monks walk the stone corridors 

&AN t.TMS o:'.:.TPO. 

with whisnerin<r footsteps and guard with zealous care their prim garden This little bit 

' '^ ' ... of paradise at 

where no woman dare enter. Here (lowers not everywhere, and there is agiance. 
music that is echoed from bower-ensconsed villas to rakish yachts and 
white men-of-war that lie at anchor in the offing. The annual average 
temperature is 72° and neither summer sun nor winter chill ever comes 
to enervate or affright the happy mortal who tarries here beneath the 
embrace of the Santa \'nez. 

Al lllli SANTA liARHARA Ml- 



Beyond here on our 'vay to Saugus the track follows close to the sea-line 
for miles and miles — carved now and again out of the very face of the rocky 
bluff at whose feet the green surges beat ant! churn themselves into foam. 
Then a little way anil we come to places where pure bitumen (jozes from the 
ground, and further on run for an hour or more through an orchard-dotted 
valley, where every landscape that meets the eye is a pastoral miniature, as By the sea to 
perfect as color and grouping and the fertile master-mind can make it. ■ ""*^"'*- 
And when we catch the train at Saugus and the porter disposes the luggage 
in our section in the New Orleans car, and our faces are turned toward the 
east once more, the Girl looks out of the window with something of sadness 
as she says : 

"It has all been like a pleasant dream, and — and Jack and I will take it Not the least 

, .,, " important 

all over agam some day, won t we? result of the 

And I squeezed the dear Girl's hand a little l)it harder than need be, 
perhaps, and whispered. "On our wedding trip." 

'r4ii 10 



This book is DUE on the last date stamped below 




DEC 2 1969 

Three wefHJtgrTt^atfttlf P 

receipt — Non-RenewabJi ■* LX*^ t^ 

8EC 519(>S 

Form L-0 


r?7ot Kneedler 

storyland to 
sunset seas. 

OCT i '^ ^^^ 

'^786 .K73t 


L 009 549 886 1