Chapter IV

We Leave Salt Lake--Reach the Sierra Nevada Slopes--Tunnels,
Gorges, etc.--Reach California--Sacramento--San Francisco--Hotel
Runners--Fruits--Palace Hotel--Chinese--Dennis Kearney and
Party--De Young-Kalloch Tragedy--Chinese Bakers--California
Climate--Ships--Golden Gate--Woodward Garden--Portland,
Oregon--Washington Territory--Sail for Santa Barbara and Los
Angeles--Prescott, Arizona--Meet General Fremont--Big Trees--Return
to Ohio.

We camped in Salt Lake valley nearly three weeks, and our stay had been so agreeable that it appeared to us but a day. We now concluded to sell our outfit and take passage on the train for California, the land of gold. The property was soon sold and tickets were purchased, and we stepped aboard. Our new team snorted and its breath curled gracefully upward, and we moved smoothly up the valley near the beach of the great salt sea. We had been toiling up the rocky sides and rolling down the barren slopes so long that we had become somewhat used to slow, plodding travel, and were delighted with the ease and speed with which we were now winding our way toward the Pacific shores.

We soon passed out from between the towering, snow-capped walls, and crawling along the hill-sides we soon came upon a dry, sandy desert where ofttimes a spire of grass could not be seen for several miles. The little lakes and streamlets lay miles apart, and their brinks were all powdered with alkali while their waters were as bitter as the essence of gall. The whole face of the plain was covered with thick, spraddling sage-brush, which stood in the sands like saplings in a new forest; but not even the smallest animal or insect nestled or sung among the limbs. A strong puff of wind roars over the desert, and the sand rises in the air and looks like a great column of light colored smoke. Where the brush stand in thick clumps the sand lodges; and the brush sprouting out every year, the drift grows to a large mound. As we passed along they glistened in the bright sunlight on either side of the way.

There are section-houses built at the end of every division of the road, and large, powerful wind-pumps roll the water into the tanks from far below the burning sand. The section-hands stay in these houses; and their necessaries are brought them by the company. These hands are usually Chinamen; and passing them at noon they will be found seated in the sand around a pot of rice, greedily eating their _only_ food.

Near many of these tanks small parties of Indian squaws, girls, papooses, and some old men, of the Shoshone and Winnemucca tribes, were wallowing in the sand, with nothing but a few skins stretched over the tops of the brush to shelter them from the blazing orb; and when the engine stopped to take water these filthy creatures would run along each side of the train and ask for biscuits. Many travelers have their lunch along; and the beggars seldom fail to get their arms filled from the open windows.

When the train was in motion there was a breeze; but in every direction the heat curled and dangled upward from the scorching sands like rays from a fiery furnace. It was a dreary, lonesome ride; and we sat by the windows peering out over the little sand-mounds that rose in the distance until the pine-covered slopes of the Sierra Nevadas broke the monotony, and the breath of the mountain wafted through the open car. How delightful to be among the pretty green trees again, and to get a draught from the clear, cool waters that roll out from the mountain-rocks where the little conies sport among the crags.

We had often heard of the great tunnels and snow-sheds, and the mighty fills along the Central Pacific line. We were now actually _observing_ the famous pass-way; and there was no part of our journey that presented such a vast amount of interesting and beautiful scenery. Sometimes we would wind along the steep side of the mountain, far above the tops of the trees in the valley below; and to look out and see the crystal waters gush from the bluff and dash down over the rocky precipices and lash into foam among the pines is grand beyond mention.

Soon the conductor comes through the car, ordering all heads and arms to be drawn in and the windows and doors closed, and warning the passengers not to get frightened. Then a flutter goes through the car, and the timid breathe short and quick. What is to happen? All of a sudden the light is eclipsed, the timid females shriek wildly, and we are winding through the dark, narrow tunnel, far into the mountain. It is dark as midnight. The rolling of the car-wheels roars like thunder, and the smoke from the engine pours in through every crevice. At length we suddenly dart into the light again. A din of relief goes through the car, the windows are thrown up, and everybody is anxious to look back at the dismal tunnel. As the front cars are winding around the valleys and over the gorges, and the rear cars are coming out of the mountain, the train looks like a huge serpent crawling from its gloomy den. Now we come into a mighty cut, where the prints of the pick and shovel are seen in the hard earth, and the great walls on either side are left rough with the blast; and now we run over a fill, and the steady heads look out into the swimming space. These are the scenes for many miles; and when considering the immense amount of labor it must have required to pierce the mountains of rock and fill up the almost bottomless gorges, a person is forced to exclaim, “Wonderful, wonderful man!”

There are the most beautiful trees growing upon the slopes; and in spite of the efforts of the Government to save the timber upon its vacant lands, saw-mills are buzzing in almost every

gorge, and the finest lumber is shipped to the East and West. Fortunes have been made at this, and they are being made to-day in spite of the penalty. There are also numerous mines along the way. At some places the whole mountain appears to have been turned upside down, and the muddy waters slush down the rocky rifts.

Our train was heavily loaded, and two engines were required at some places to haul us up the mighty grades; and the puffing of the powerful, six-wheel drivers echoed loudly down the canons. Trains are compelled to run very slow here; and bands of robbers sometimes board them, and, under cover of revolvers and guns, rob the crew.

We at length left the Sierra Nevadas to the east and ran out upon the plains of California--the beautiful, level land of gold. We had now reached the famous wheat country,--where it is said single farmers sometimes raise ten and fifteen thousand acres,--and were sailing through the renowned delightful and healthy climate. As we rolled over the level plain, where we could see for many miles in any direction, the platforms and windows were crowded with persons all anxious to view the great California, whose veins are gold, and whose influence has lain many human bodies among the rifts and gulches of the bleak and lonely mountains. Much of the country is unfenced; and when otherwise, the fields usually contain many hundred acres. At many places along the track there are large uncovered platforms built up, and thousands of bushels of grain lay there in sacks ready for shipment. They say they never put their grain in barns, but thrash it in the fields and haul it to the platforms, sometimes leaving it there for several weeks and months before shipping; for there is no danger of rain until the wet season sets in. The grain is all headed.

The road being so level and straight, the train flew swiftly along; and we soon saw the spires and steeples of the capital city glittering in the distance. Coming into Sacramento the train stopped for refreshments; and before the wheels stopped rolling the cars were boarded by swarms of hotel-runners, who almost tried to force the passengers to go with them to their different hotels. Some of our comrades went along; but we had heard of the great numbers and extreme insolence of the runners of Sacramento and San Francisco, and from the looks of them they were but a gang of thieves, so we concluded to hunt our own hotels and tend to our own _business_.

Sacramento is a lovely place, with pretty, wide streets, many of which are made cool and delightful by large willows standing along either side, and whose green, limber branches meet above and droop over the way. The capitol is a large building, and in shape and color resembles the White House.

From here we again renewed our journey, and at last entered the city of Oakland, on the shore of the briny bay. The dry deserts and rugged mountains had been crossed, and we were finally looking upon the home of the tide, where the sea-gull sports upon the waves.

Frisco (San Francisco) lies across the bay--a distance of about eight miles--from Oakland, and there are large steam-ferries continually passing back and forth. We went aboard the ferry; and the trip was so pleasant that we thought we would like to cross the ocean. Several runners came over to Oakland to talk with the passengers as they crossed the bay; but on reaching the Frisco shore, I swear I never saw the like, and it would be impossible to describe the scene. There must have been seventy-five runners there from the different hotels, all anxious to take you to a good house. There were sometimes several from one house, and their busses were all backed up in a row. As soon as the ferry touched the wharf these fellows rushed wildly on board, crying out the name of their hotels and grabbing the luggage from the hands of the passengers, and endeavoring to drag them to their hacks. Sometimes a couple get hold of the person, and a couple get hold of his luggage, each wanting to take him and his property in different directions; and then there is a time. His clothes are sometimes torn almost off him, his satchel is torn to pieces, and he finds himself perfectly helpless in the hands of the mob; for if he lets go and goes to strike, some one will run off with his property. There is always a great crowd of people; and in the surging and crowding, and high excitement, many pockets are picked, and much luggage is lost by the owner not following the snatcher as he runs off for the hack. The boys run down each others hotels, one saying, “They don’t have anything but rotten fish to eat at that house;” another saying, “They have lousy beds at that house;” and another warning all persons not to go to either for they are robbers, and they will charge five dollars per day when they have you fast. Now, to see several of these fellows all pleading earnestly with a plain old conscientious farmer who takes everything for the truth is entirely too funny. He first looks at one and then at the other, not knowing which one to trust. We were well fixed; for some of us could carry the luggage while the others knocked down the runners. The better way is to get the name of some good hotel before you get there, and then look for the ’bus and make for it. In any case, persons should securely fasten their luggage to them with ropes.

The surface is level for a couple of hundred yards back from the bay, and it then ascends sharply to the top of a high ridge running parallel with the bay. The surface is barren, and the sand is deep and soft. On this level strip and against this steep, sandy hill stands the great city of San Francisco. The house-foundations are all laid deeply, to get below the sand; and the streets are all paved with several layers of round rocks, with nothing to smooth the surface. There is nearly always a pretty strong wind stirring, and the streets have to be kept perfectly clean. For this purpose large street-sweepers are drawn over the road by horses every day, and sprinkling is done besides. The riding and driving over these rocks is very disagreeable; and the horses do not usually last very long. To see them drawing their great loads up the steep hill-side, slipping, sliding, and straining every nerve, and sometimes falling upon their knees on the stones, is an ugly sight indeed. The large wholesale houses all have heavy trucks; and many of the finest teams I ever saw were hauling these trucks.

There is an immense quantity of the very largest and finest fruits raised in California every year. I believe I have seen as many grapes, pears, peaches, and melons in the streets of San Francisco in one day as there are raised in the State of Ohio in a whole year. I have seen several millions of fine melons lying in a single heap. There are several mammoth fruit-stores here, and hundreds of bushels, during the season, are daily loaded upon the ships for other countries. I might also add that, though California fruits are large and beautiful, much of it lacks the flavor of eastern fruits,--perhaps from the fact that during its growth it gets no rain but depends solely on the heavy dew for its nourishment.

There are street-cars on almost every street; and they are run up and down the incline by engines stationed at the top of the hill. It is very pleasant riding up and down here, and the cars are full on almost every trip.

Though there are some very large, fine buildings, the city is very ordinary on this score, there being also many little old shanties stuck here and there all through the place. The Palace Hotel is the finest building in the city, and is said to be the largest hotel in the world. It is built of beautiful polished stone, is seven stories high, contains seven hundred and twenty-five rooms, and takes up a whole square, fronting upon every side. In the center of the building there is a round space of about twenty yards in diameter running from the bottom to the top; and there are walks all around this from each story. Persons are let up and down here by elevators. There is a large, beautiful rockery all decorated with lovely flowers in the center of this space; and the clear, cool water from a pretty fountain is thrown high in the air and descends softly and refreshingly upon the tender roses and mossy rocks. There is a grand archway leading into this area from one of the streets, and carriages are driven through this and around the beautiful rockery where the air is fragrant with the sweet breath of the flowers. Guests are thus lifted into and out of their carriages always in the dry. The house is in all respects a _perfect_ structure, and is furnished with the finest and most costly furniture. The rates are from five to ten dollars per day; though good boarding can be had in the city for from four to six dollars per week. Here is where General Grant and party put up when they reached San Francisco in their trip round the world. The other principal houses are the Baldwin, Franklin, Central Pacific, and Hotel Rhein.

There are great numbers of saloons, gambling-houses, and variety-shows, and whole gangs of the very lowest prostitutes in the city. A large proportion of the inhabitants are the rakings of many nations; and I feel very sure that there is not another city sitting upon the shores of the Pacific Ocean of more notorious lewdness and low vices than this place.

We heard much about the Chinese, and had seen a few; but here were thousands of them, of every shape and size. The business-houses on each side of one of the streets for a half mile through the city are almost exclusively occupied by them. Their business ranges from the theater down to the poultry-pen. This street is called China Street.

Very few of the Chinamen have brought their wives over with them, and the females who _are_ here are nearly all prostitutes; so the men do their own cooking and washing. They are nearly all good at this, however; and I have learned that they are taught to do this in their native land. It appears that none of them come to this country with the intention of staying, but intend only to make little fortunes and then take it back to China; and it is said that the bones of every deceased one are sent home for interment. They are therefore very economical, and live almost exclusively on rice and cooked fish. The former they have shipped from China by the wholesale, and the latter they catch themselves; so that grub costs them very little.

At meal-time groups of from six to twelve gather round a large pot of rice and a great dish of cooked fish and take their meals. Each person is provided with a cup, and two little sticks, about the size of a lead-pencil, which they hold in their fingers like a bone-rattler holds his bones. The rice is dipped into the cup and the cup is placed to the lips; and as they rake the rice into their mouths with the sticks it makes an observer think of playing the jew’s-harp. Now and then they reach over and clamp a piece of fish between the sticks. And they appear to relish this food as much as though it were the richest delicacy.

At night they gather in squads and crouch together upon the floor like hogs. They have but a few blankets for beds. By living in this way their expenses are consequently very light; and the poor, laboring white man is underbidden in his labor, while the slaving washer-woman is driven from her tub by this heathen competition.

The sorrowful consequences of Chinese competition can never be realized until once observed. Some say it is right,--that what one human lives on, another should be able to. But I say shame on the person who would ask, or even wish to see his fellow-man live as do these vile, filthy, heathen competitors. We boast of our land and Government as being the pride of the world, the asylum of the oppressed, the home for the weary, where labor is fairly rewarded, and where human happiness is not all drowned by the necessary cares of life. To ask this competition is to ask our laboring brothers to live as the subjects of the most wicked tyrant on the earth, and our poor sisters as she who comes down the foreign hill-side with a great load upon her head, knitting on the way. There are about fifty thousand in the city; and every ship from China brings more to the shore. It is needless to say that the laboring classes are indignant at the outrage, and that the city is constantly in the wildest commotion. In their part of the town they have dark secret excavations in the earth, entered by trap-doors and narrow passes, and in here are their opium-dens, and gambling-hells, and prostitution apartments. No ray of sunlight ever reaches these cells; and the fumes of filth and crime ooze out of the crevices like smoke from a kiln. There are some back streets in which it is not safe to travel after dark; and the air is contaminated with the most loathsome, contagious, and dangerous diseases. Some of these low places have been broken up by the police; but they have never been able to find half of them.

There are three political parties in California--the Republican, Democratic, and the Workingmen’s Party of California (W. P. C.)--the latter led by Dennis Kearney. We were there during the campaign of 1879, and more excitement I never saw. The only issue was the Chinese question; and each candidate would hop upon a wagon or store-box every night, and cry out, “Elect me, and the Chinese with their leprosy shall be driven from the state. Vote for me, and I will make hell a paradise,” etc., etc. The W. P. C. is composed of the vile dregs of almost every nation; and decency and manhood are not to be found in its ranks. Dennis Kearney is a rash, illiterate, blood-thirsty fiend, whose regular business is draying--an occupation he is only calculated for; and to see this mob parading the streets, with Chinamen stamped upon their banners in all horrible positions, shouting, profaning, and declaring open violence to the Chinese and all persons who speak for them, is enough to disgust man with his fellow-kindred. The question is worthy of agitation; but violence is not the instrument with which to cure the evils of a civilized world. Kearney is bold, rash, and ambitious; and these are the qualities admired by such people as belong to the W. P. C. It is wonderful, the influence this man has over his followers.

Most persons know about the DeYoung-Kalloch tragedy; and the _truth_ is as follows, for I was there and saw the shooting: DeYoung was the editor of the _Chronicle_ (a Republican paper), and I. M. Kalloch was a minister--a smart man, but one whose religion was as transient as the morning dew, and who, wishing a political benefit, stepped from the sacred altar into the polluted ranks of Kearney’s howling mob. He was nominated for mayor of the city, and went about agitating and encouraging his party to violence in the strongest language. He abused the leaders of other parties in bitter phrases; and upon one occasion referred to DeYoung as a lousy bastard, nursed and reared in the lap of a prostitute, and whose life was poison to San Francisco. DeYoung got to hear of the infamous charges made against his poor old mother, whose body was laid in the grave, and, unable to control his temper, he hired a _coupe_ and negro to drive him to Kalloch’s house, and sent in for him to come out, saying that a lady wished to see him. As he came near the _coupe_, DeYoung flung open the door and fired upon him, one ball passing into his body and another into his groins. He fell. But before DeYoung could finish his work a mob turned over the _coupe_ and jerked him out; and but for the brave police, he would have been mangled beyond recognition in a few minutes. DeYoung was bound over in bail of twenty thousand dollars, to answer the charge of shooting with intent to kill; but before he was tried he was killed by his victim’s son. I. M. Kalloch recovered from his wounds, and, having been elected, served the city as mayor.

DeYoung was murdered by young I. S. Kalloch as follows: One evening, a little after twilight,--after I. M. Kalloch was sound and well, and was tilling his office,--DeYoung came from his home and entered his office; but before he got behind the desk, I. S. Kalloch, who had been prowling around the building watching his opportunity, rushed through the door and fired upon his victim. His first two shots took slight effect; and DeYoung was behind his desk and had his own pistol raised when a third ball from his assailant entered his mouth and laid him dying upon the floor at the feet of his brother Michael. The murderer was seized and put in jail, and the Workingmen’s Party called a meeting at the Sand Lots and had a grand jollification over the result; and extravagant eulogiums were heaped upon young Kalloch, who was so brave and who served his party so well. He had his trial; and though clearly guilty of murder in the first degree, and deserving of blackest torture known to the law, he was acquitted on the ground of self-defense. His party was overjoyed at the result, and loading him in a carriage they pulled him by hand all over the city.

Charles DeYoung was a bitter partisan, and made use of extravagant language from the stump, but I. M. Kalloch was infinitely worse; and though the latter made a low, cowardly assault upon a poor old woman whose body was returning to the dust from whence it came, and should have been stoned from the stand, DeYoung was certainly not justified in his shooting at the time he did it, and should have been punished; but it was clearly not the part of the Kallochs, who came down out of the pulpit and placed themselves at the head of the ranks of an indecent mob, to administer it. Excitement was running high at the time DeYoung shot Kalloch, and the Chinese, knowing that they were the cause of the trouble, were daily expecting an outbreak. When the report of the pistol was heard, and people rushed to and fro, Chinatown was in a stir; and every little old back shed and kitchen-roof was covered with Chinamen with shot-guns and big rocks, fully expecting an attack, and determined to fight it out. Such jabbering one never heard. Terror reigned supreme, and mobs of indecent, beastly wretches ran through the streets crying for violence and mob-law. A meeting of the party was called to determine what to do; and in the afternoon several thousand people assembled at the Sand Lots--a couple of lots just outside the corporation, where the sand is very deep, and where the W. P. C.’s held their meetings. The assembly was addressed by several of the leaders. Whenever a man would get up and did not talk straight “hang,” he was jerked down and the mob would yell like tigers; but when a speaker would cry for blood, and pollute the very air with profanity, the hearts would beat quick and the eyes glisten. There were several guns and pistols glistening in the crowd, and for awhile things looked a little like hanging; and the party being in a majority in the city, it could have been accomplished. But about the time the resolution was to be adopted a dispatch was received from Kearney (who was away), asking them to wait until he arrived. By this time the jail was surrounded by a strong military guard, and the violence was not attempted.

Such is W. P. C., and such is the true history of the DeYoung-Kalloch troubles. I have, perhaps, dwelt longer upon this subject than I have been justified in doing; but I was so utterly disgusted with the beastly actions of these villains, and so fully impressed with the violence threatened to justice, and the danger into which a government is plunged where illiteracy takes the throne, that I could not refrain.

When it was known that the Grant party were to stop in the city, the citizens began to prepare for a grand reception. But Kearney called a meeting of his followers and denounced the Republican party in severest epithets. He called General Grant its leader, and denounced him as a tyrant who was seeking the power of the nation, and told his men not to turn out in the parade, but while they were marching through the streets they would meet at the Sand Lots and burn General Grant in effigy. The speech took great effect on the party, and it looked as though it would be hardly safe for the general to come to the city. Several of the good, resolute citizens waited upon Kearney and told him that if he ever attempted to carry out his threats his body would be pierced with a thousand bullets. The warning was sufficient; and on the arrival of the party, Kearney and his minions were quiet; and the Republican party fired thirty salutes from the Sand Lots in honor of the greatest general on earth.

We were in the city on election-day; and such a time I never saw. The Ohio boys who talk of political excitement ought to have been there. There were eighty special police appointed, and on nearly every corner there was a fight. Three men were shot, several were wounded, and the station-houses were crowded. The W. P. C.’s carried the city, but the state went Republican.

The Chinese question is a cloud hanging over California; and what the result will be can not be told. Surely some modification of the Burlingame treaty is needed as badly as a protection tariff. There are about fifty thousand in the city of Frisco, and they are scattered in almost every city in the state. Large societies are organized, and all joiners pledge themselves not to employ Chinese labor; and though many join, some of the big employers work to their own interests, and employ those who can be got the cheapest, be they Chinamen or not. Many of the large hotels and bakeries employ Chinese; and more beautiful bread, biscuits, and pies than they turn out were never seen. The secret of their success has been discovered, however, and they have been driven off in some places. They fill their mouth with warm water, and with a peculiar _whist_ they blow it out in sprays as fine as the morning mist, over the dough while kneading. In this way the dough is worked and rolled in good order, and then placed in the oven. When it is of a delicate brown it is drawn out, a lump of butter is melted in the mouth and then blown over it, and the crust becomes soft as sponge. To persons with calloused stomachs, or to those who are ignorant of the process, it is perfectly delicious. As for us, we did not choose to eat spit, be it native or imported. The laundry-men dampen their clothes in the same way; and when several are at work in the same house they make almost as much noise as the cylinder-cocks on a steam-engine, and you can hear them clear out on the street.

California is noted for its beautiful, even climate. There are two seasons--the wet and the dry. The former sets in about November first and continues until about April first. During this season it rains almost every day, and the sun is hidden sometimes for several weeks at a time; and except in the mountains, it seldom gets cold. During the dry season there is no rain, and crops are nourished by the heavy dews. This is the reason corn does no good here. The summers are usually warm. The temperature has been known to reach 120°, and little birds have been seen to drop suffocated from the trees. The mornings and evenings of the warmest days are usually so cool, from the sea-breeze, that fire is comfortable and persons can sleep under a pair of blankets. It is usually about ten o’clock before fog clears away sufficient to let through the rays of the sun. Of course there is some difference between the climate of the northern and the southern parts of the state.

The ocean, to us, was the subject of great attraction; and we loved to sit upon a bluff at the beach and see the tide come rolling in and hear it roar as the briny spray was lashed up against the rocky shores and tossed back into foam, and see the multitudes of ships anchored in the bay, whose rigging looked like a vast net-work.

We saw ships here nearly five hundred feet long, which drew twenty-three feet of water and were twenty feet out of the water. To see these great ships going out and coming in is a grand sight indeed. As they plow through the water the brine is churned into foam and the waves roll several feet high behind them, and the surface is left disturbed far in the rear. It is pleasant to see a ship from a foreign port draw up to the wharf and hear the warm greetings of friends. The wharf is all lined with persons,--many anxious to see some one,--and when the planks are thrown out they rush on board; and to see the warm embraces and affectionate salutes of dear friends whom the briny waves rolled between for perhaps several years is enough to hurry the blood in one’s veins and lift his heart high in his bosom. But, on the other hand, oh! how sorrowful to see friends part. The ship is loaded and the time is set for starting; and persons taking passage gather on board; and their friends sit by their sides talking and telling messages to carry to friends beyond. The minutes fly like seconds, and the time comes nearer and nearer; and at length the order is given to draw in the planks. Quivering lips are then touched and trembling hands are shaken, and with a sorrowful “Good-by” those not going rush ashore. The planks are drawn in, the moorings are cut loose, the great ship is hauled out into the open bay by a tug-boat, and when she is whirled about and her bow pointed toward the Golden Gate the cannon is fired, the great wheel begins to roll, and the great monster, looking like a planet upon the waves, moves gracefully away. Then comes the affecting scene. Friends stand upon the beach waving their handkerchiefs, and as they see the dearest on earth glide out of sight upon the treacherous waves vent is given to strongest grief, and heart-rending sighs waft out upon the ocean breeze.

I have witnessed some touching scenes, one of which I shall not soon forget. I was at the wharf when the great ship Australia was whirled about, her cannon discharged, and she started for the island from which she took her name; and I saw the scene. There was one aged woman whose only son was on board; and she stood upon the shore and sobbed as if her heart would break as he rode away. When the ship faded in the distance she fainted away and was carried off. Oh! what great necessity must have forced that son abroad, or what a hard and cruel heart he must have had to grieve his poor old mother’s heart and drown her cries in the briny waves. How I thought of the great Washington, who gave up his voyage because of his good mother’s grief.

We were not satisfied with looking over the waters, but we were anxious to ride the waves. Accordingly we hired a plunger, about twenty feet long, with a mast about twelve feet high and a single sail; and though we were all greenhorns upon the waters, we pushed into the bay. We thought we would take a fish; so we got tackling, bought three fish-worms for twenty cents, and dragged our lines behind the boat. We started early in the morning when the wind was low and the tide was running out; and we sailed merrily away.

The Golden Gate is about six miles up the bay; and we glided among the tugs and schooners and around the great anchored steamers, and at length reached the gate. Here the bay narrows, and the entrance to the open sea is about half a mile wide. On either side the rough, barren bluffs rise several hundred feet high; and numbers of big government guns planted upon the crests look down over the gateway.

We launched out into the sea and for our first time rode upon the king of waters. The breeze was favorable, and we shot along until the beach was left in the dim distance. We then concluded we were far enough. As far as the eye could reach the waters idly tossed; and the mist hung over the sea like smoke over a burning prairie. The sea-gulls rocked upon the waves, the spirt-whales rose to the surface and blew the brine far into the air, and the dark sea-lions rose to utter their loud roars and then disappear again among the waves.

Our sail out was very pleasant; but the wind had now grown strong, and being directly against us on our return--with our little knowledge of sailing--we were in bad quarters. We tossed about, and several times came near upsetting. We had to jerk down the sail, and at length learned to manage the rudder and to zigzag the boat; and about twilight we glided back through the gate into the bay. The wind was now roaring over the sea, and the waves rolled and tossed and churned it into foam; and it seemed to me that every time we came down we were going clear under. We here turned with the breeze again, and shot down through

the bay, with the tide, like an arrow. We ran down among the other vessels at the harbor and were lashed up against their sides and tossed helplessly about until eight o’clock, when we came up to the shore. We had not caught a fish, and boat-riding had ceased to be pleasant. The owner was very anxious about his boat; for he said he had lost several boats by greenhorns taking them out and getting capsized and sinking them. God knows we were as anxious to bring the boat in safely as he was.

We had often thought and talked about swimming to the shore from wrecks on the ocean; but since we saw the waters we think swimming is but a faint hope; for when the breeze is so light that it is hardly noticeable the waters toss a foot high, and when the wind blows a little they roll several feet high, and at no time is the surface still and smooth.

The tide goes out every morning and comes in every evening; and it is delightful to sit upon the beach when the pale beams of the sinking sun are kissing the waves, and see it come rolling in. Ridges of water about three feet high, reaching from right to left as far as the eye can reach and about one hundred yards apart, chase each other to the shore; and as they strike upon the breakers the spray is lashed high against the rocky beach and roars like a forest hurricane. I have sat here for hours, lost in reflection; and the spell was only broken by the falling of the twilight veil.

There are persons here who make their living by fishing; and almost every day they set out for the mouth of the Sacramento River or the southern neck of the bay, and at night come back with their boats loaded with the most beautiful fish. I have seen sturgeon four feet long, and with heads as large as a man’s.

There is yet another place of which I must speak in connection with Frisco, and that is Woodward’s Garden, a place noted for its beauty and known by everybody for miles around. It is situated on a hill about a mile south of the city, and is surrounded by a high, strong fence and a thick growth of tall cedars. It contains about four acres, and is decorated with the most beautiful firs, cedars, and drooping willows; and great fountains toss their cool, sparkling waters high in the air and fall it into nice, large ponds, where sport almost all kinds of aquatic animals and fowls.

There are several pretty passes under the hills and some lovely caves through which course streamlets of clear, cool water. In the walls of these caves are arranged large glass cases through which the water bubbles and in which nestle, among pretty pieces of coral, the most beautiful fishes of all shapes and colors. Some have no eyes; and others have such curious shapes that it takes close observation to find the head or even to tell whether they are animate objects.

There are several fine, large buildings in the garden, and one of the finest museums I ever passed through. Birds of the most gaudy plumage, from every climate of the earth, sing and croak among the little trees in their fine, large cages, and the air was laded with their sweet, merry songs.

There is also an elegant theater, and lunchrooms; and there are several entertainments given here each week. On the whole, I suppose there is not a more beautiful, interesting, and instructive place on the continent. All persons visiting California should by all means go to see this great museum. Great crowds gather into the garden almost every day,--especially Sunday,--and the admission being twenty-five cents there must be thousands of dollars taken in every year; though it must also take a vast amount to keep up the place. There are so many subterranean passages and high, curious galleries that it takes a half day to examine all the beauties and curiosities; and strangers will miss half them unless they hire a guide to take them through.

We had now traveled every street and fully acquainted ourselves with the great city of San Francisco, and had made excursions out through the country for miles around, so we determined to take a trip up to Oregon and Washington Territory to see the brag countries of the north-west.

There is great competition between these points; and though the regular fare is ten dollars, there was just then a big war between the ship-lines. While one was charging no fare, the other was transporting passengers free and boarding them besides. This was a very good time to go to Portland; so we boarded the steamer Oregon, which glided out upon the waters and steered for the north.

The distance is five hundred miles; and in four days we sailed into the mouth of the Columbia River. The river is very wide and deep here, and the current is very strong; but we steamed up to where the Willamette empties in from the south, and then cast anchor and in boats sailed down to Portland, and to Salem, the capital of the state.

The Willamette valley is a rich and beautiful country, and, I suppose, the greatest wheat-field on the continent. Much other grain is also raised. Low mountains hem the valley on either side, and the slopes are covered with the most beautiful large timber.

Portland and Salem are both pretty cities; and though small now, the rich Willamette soil promises to make them large and active cities in the future.

We now sailed back to the Columbia and up to Walla Walla, a little town on the Columbia shore in the eastern part of Washington Territory, where the Snake River brings in its waters. Here is also a beautiful, level, valley country, and settlers are rearing their cabins in every direction. Walla Walla has as glittering a prospect as any other upon the Pacific slope, though its day may be far in the future.

We had seen heavy forests, but Washington Territory beats anything on this score that we ever saw. The very richest soil is covered with trees from three to six feet over, and standing so closely together that a ray of sunshine scarcely ever gets through the tangled branches. What has been cleared proves to be very productive; but, oh, my! the clearing. Why, it would take a man nearly a life-time to clear himself a farm; for even when the trees are felled and burned, the great rooty stumps are so thick that no farming can be done until they are grubbed and blasted out. This will necessarily be slow work; but I prophesy for this country a bright future. There are numbers of saw-mills buzzing in the forests, and much of the finest lumber is shipped down to the coast cities; but timber being also good all along the Pacific slopes, the lumber business is not very profitable. There are many of the straightest, smoothest, and tallest saplings here that were ever seen, and great numbers are cut down every year for ship-masts.

Imported stock is bred here in great herds; and numbers of the very largest and finest horses are sold and sent out from here every year. The climate is the greatest drawback to the country. Like in California, there is a wet and a dry season; but the former lasts about six months or more, during which time it rains almost constantly, and settlers say the sun is hidden sometimes for several months. The streams then overflow, and persons can fish all over their farms--and some fine white salmon and other varieties are caught. Moss grows all over the roofs of the buildings, and hangs from the forest-limbs clear down to the ground. During this season persons do not pretend to do much but fish and float logs; but when the dry season sets in the weather is delightful, and it is as pretty a country to live in as lies between the oceans.

When we were ready to go south again we found that the Republican (one of the competitors between Portland and Frisco) had been wrecked, and the Oregon line was now charging its own rates; and the fare for our return was sufficient to make up for our free ride.

We ran out of the mouth of the Columbia, and had not gone far when we hove in sight of the stranded Republican, reeling upon the rocks. The wind was high, and the waves were lashing up against her sides; and she was heaving and groaning, while most of her rigging had been torn away by the gale. She proved a total wreck; and several lives were lost. There was great excitement about the matter, and the captain was strongly accused of being bought off by the other line, and purposely driving her awreck; for it was shown that on the night of the accident the wind was very high and the sea was rolling terribly, and the sailors pleaded with the captain to go ashore before dark, or else ran out farther on the ocean out of danger from the breakers. But he was heedless, and the consequence was that in the darkness of the night they were driven upon the bars.

Well, we ran down to the south, most of the time in sight of land, until we again reached Frisco, and from there we again embarked for Santa Barbara, on the southern coast of California, a distance of about two hundred miles.

We now reached the most delightful spot on earth, where winter never comes, but where the bright summer lasts the whole year round. The cool fall winds were now blowing in the central and northern states, and the bitter frosts were clipping the leaves from the forest-trees; but here the soft zephyrs were breathing calmly, and the tender foliage of the trees and plants was green and fresh as in the month of May, while the air was laded with the breath of the lovely flowers and delicious fruits. The rich oranges, lemons, and figs, which are considered such delicacies in the East, were here hanging upon the native bush, and we went forth and plucked them in all their natural beauty. How lovely! What a paragon of beauty! A life here would be but a continuous summer’s day.

The country around Los Angeles, which lies a little to the south, is a perfect Eden, and the city is a perfect gem; and persons seeking a peer for paradise, where December is pleasant as May, should journey to California and anchor in the sweet, sunny South, where the breath of heaven fans the shore.

From here we went down the Southern Pacific Railroad, and branched off to Prescott, the capital of Arizona. Here we met the great General John C. Fremont, the daring explorer who served the Government so nobly between the years 1842-8, by his exploits through the bleak, lonely mountains and wild lands of the savage, and whose talent the nation has felt and acknowledged. He was born in South Carolina in the year 1813, and though his great name was once in every mouth on the Atlantic slope, and even sung in the national campaign of 1856, the orient has almost forgotten her son and servant, whose lips have touched the waters of every river between the shores, and whose hairs have grown gray in her service; and far beyond the Mississippi he is to-day governing the dismal, desert territory of Arizona, his youth gone, glory flown, and naught but his insignificant gubernatorial salary to guard poverty from his door.

The climate here is intensely hot, and the surface is dry and sandy. General Fremont thinks that a portion of the territory could be flooded from the Pacific, and thereby be made productive; and his scheme has been presented to congress.

They were just building the Southern Pacific Railroad through here when we were there, and, from the intense heat and burning sands, it was found impossible to work at it except about three or four months in the year. The road is, however, now finished, and the Union Pacific has a rival in the route across the continent.

On our return back to Frisco we went up a branch of the Central Pacific, and ran out on the stage to the big trees upon the Sierra Nevada slopes. We had stood in the forests in Ohio, and looked up at the great oaks and called them mammoths; but great glory! here was a whole forest in a single tree. The trunks are from ten to fifteen feet in diameter, with summits reared so high that they appear to sweep the sky as they are swayed to and fro by the upper currents; and away up among the spreading boughs nestle and scream the great eagles, looking like sparrows. The stage-route runs clear through the forest, and right by the largest trees, which rear their heads to the enormous height of three and four hundred feet, and right through the hollow trunk of the king of the forest, which fell in a storm some years ago. Some idea can be formed of the immensity of this tree when I tell you that the driver keeps his seat and a four-horse stage-coach runs lengthwise through its body with perfect ease. People are living in some of the trees, and have doors and windows cut out; and some very fair-looking two-story houses are made with these natural walls. Many of the trees have been felled, and it is found that all the largest are but shells. One was cut down, divided into sections, and taken to the Centennial. The most interesting part of our journey was the curling route among these towering Pacific monuments; and all tourists to the West, wishing to see the curiosities of the world, should not fail to ride out among the wonders upon the Sierra Nevada slopes.

We now returned to Frisco and prepared to return to Ohio. We sailed across the bay, and, taking a last long look over the tossing sea, we bid the waves good-by, and then rattled along over the iron trail of the Union Pacific, reaching home safe and sound, when the snow-flakes were flying in the wintry air of 1879. How unnatural all things appeared! Where are the great hills which used to almost barrier the public way? Why, the roads are almost smooth as a floor. Where are the big fields that it used to take days to plow, and the great forests through which we used to hunt? All appear but garden-spots, and fit for the spade instead of the plow; and the woods are too small for a home for even the squirrel or wood-chuck. All efforts to see the old homestead as in years gone by are vain. The towering peaks of the Rockies, and the steep, stony slopes of the Green Horns can not be banished from my mind, and the great world of level prairie is too fresh in my memory.

I have been home now some time; and to this day farms are but gardens and the hills are as clods. Like experience can only prove the effect. I have roamed through twenty states and territories, and have in a measure satisfied that desire which was the source of my boyish dreams. The adventure is but familiar talk, and the wild chase is but common exercise. But how much better am I off than he who is content without travel? I now only _realize_ how wonderful is the world and its workings, and how much there is that I never _shall_ see. Travel is prone to disturb content; and discontent is the greatest enemy to the human mind. Of course, this is directed to persons who travel to satisfy the mind; for they whom circumstances crowd from home show pluck and shrewdness in careful prospecting. I can assure you that I have seen a great deal, and much that I never wish to see again. And if in this brief work I have succeeded in giving my readers even a limited idea of the country through which I passed, I feel sure that they will relieve me of my responsible undertaking; for it is by far too much for these few pages.

WHO SHOULD GO WEST.

Since I arrived from my tour through the West scarcely a day passes that there are not some persons, from almost every occupation and position in life, interrogating me as to the chances and prospects in the West. A general answer can not be given, for circumstances vary. Though I can not be as general and emphatic in my advice as was the great Horace Greeley when he said, “Young man, go west and grow up with the country,” I _can_ say from real experience and practical observations that for _some_ toward the Pacific there is wealth. I emphasize the word “_some_;” for there are dispositions that will never prosper in this noted, novel land.

It should be remembered that going west from Ohio is not going west from New York; for the splendid forests, the beautiful, rich valleys, and the great commercial advantages fade quickly before the emigrant when he leaves the Mississippi and marches toward the western sea. When the Missouri is once crossed, the great American stage is then entered upon, where the plays are different and numerous and where the shrewdest men are actors. Instead of the honest peasant, grubbing and planting by his little cabin in the dense forest, there are the trickster, the knave, the thief, each playing his faithful part. Business is all swept along by the wave of excitement,--as can be collected from the present work,--and under such circumstances there are very many who can not stand prosperity. Wages are always good. Money is usually made easy; and the result of such conditions is only too well known. Fine dress is not required, and money is plenty. For him who has enough control over himself to take advantage of the situation there is a glittering prospect. There are persons on the prairies and in the mountains to-day who are gathering money like leaves in autumn.

I have tried to describe the country as it is; and my readers of different occupations can draw conclusions and choose localities for themselves. But my advice to those who are comfortably nestling in the folds of civilization, where the church-bell strikes, where the school-houses dot the land, and where utter want is ever barred, is, Stay where you are; educate your children and be content with good. To those who have no money,--especially those who have families,--I will say, For God’s sake stay where help is near and charity abounds; for I assure you that I have _seen_ the _destitute_ in a strange land.

Of course, there are beautiful lands in parts of several states and territories, where good farms can be had, and where, some time in the future, the steeples of great cities will glitter in the sunlight. There is, undoubtedly, an opening here for the agriculturist; but emigrants must expect to find the country new, the facilities and accommodations scarce, and the neighbors poor. To be safe, they should always have sufficient capital to run them a year or two. I have known persons to drift west with the excitement and arrive in a splendid land without a cent, as though expecting to find bread upon the bushes, crops ready to harvest, and wealthy neighbors. The first year’s crop failed because of insects, drought, or some other peculiarity of the western prairie, and their condition was then more deplorable than the poorest from whence they came.

There are persons who make it a business to accommodate the unfortunate settlers with money; but the security is mortgage on property, and the interest is usually two per cent per month, or twenty-four per cent per year, and some are obliged to pay fifty per cent. Borrowed money never fails to produce a crop; but the _soil_ may _fail_, and produce is also of poor sale. From this hint warning consultations can be drawn, and persons with families should take heed.

To the agriculturalist I can speak favorably of Kansas, Nebraska (page 40), and eastern Dakota; but should the _Indian Territory_ be opened to settlement (as it will soon be), _there_ is the place to fly, for it is acknowledged the hot-bed of the West. Emigrants will find it convenient if prepared with a mess-box as described (page 94). For cattle and sheep business on a big scale, go to Kansas, Colorado, and New Mexico (page 168). For health-giving and delightful summer-resorts (and I might here add that there are thousands dying in the East to-day who would be hale and hearty in the West), I can speak highly of Manitou Springs, Colorado (page 258-264), and also Las Vegas Hot Springs, New Mexico. The latter are twenty-two in number, and beautifully located about four miles above the pretty city of Las Vegas. They have an altitude of six thousand four hundred feet--the elevation which has made Colorado such a favorite resort for those affected with pulmonary complaints--with a decided advantage over some of the northern resorts as to latitude and health-giving climate. The character of the water is similar to that of the famous Hot Springs of Arkansas, as shown by the following chemical analysis made by Prof. Hayden, United States geologist:

---------------------+-------------+-------------+-------------- CONSTITUENTS. |SPRING NO. 1.| NO. 2 | NO. 3 ---------------------+-------------+-------------+-------------- Sodium carbonate | 1.72| 1.17| 5.00 Calcium carbonate }| 1.08| 10.63| 11.43 Magnesium carbon’te }| | | Sodium sulphate | 14.12| 15.43| 16.21 Sodium chloride | 27.26| 24.37| 27-34 Potassium | Trace| Trace| Trace Litheium | Strong trace| Strong trace| Strong trace Silicid acid | 1.04| Trace| 2.15 Sodium | Trace| Trace| Trace Bromine | Trace| Trace| Trace Temperature | 130°F| 123°F| 123°F ---------------------+-------------+-------------+--------------

This showing speaks volumes to those familiar with thermal springs. Their waters are of a superior medicinal character. The climate is not bleak nor harsh in winter, and is very bracing and pleasant in summer. The plateau upon which they are located may be considered the great sanitarium in this country for lung-diseases. Prominent Boston gentlemen have purchased and improved the property; and every visitor is delighted.

Now, in conclusion, I will again assert that there are splendid opportunities for persons of most classes and occupations. But I almost hesitate to advise young men to go there (page 221); for, as was said, all is excitement. The society is bad, and vices are so numerous (202) that many persons will fall under such circumstances; and such a fall is grieving many a good parent to-day.

Work can be had on the prairie or in the mountains at any time in the summer-season; and wages are always good. But to succeed, you must be firm, resolve to resist the evils, and be not led astray. Take care of your earnings, and you can save money.

I have been as elaborate in my description as space will permit, and upon facts stated my readers may rely and base their actions. Whatever my ideas taken from this volume may be, I assure you that my chosen profession and peculiar situation are all that keep me from following the sun in his course to-morrow.

For I know full well
That the future will tell
The advantages hidden
In the now rude West.

THE END.