These negroes being constantly in the habit of deserting travellers on the route, and stealing their baggage whenever the opportunity presents itself, I was particularly careful not to lose sight of my attendant.

"A few miles further on, I again found myself on a stone road, said to have been paved by Cortes to facilitate the pa.s.sage of his troops from the Atlantic to the Pacific coast; and, although I have travelled rougher and steeper routes in Lower California, I cannot say that I have ever encountered such a combination of petty difficulties and annoyances. The road is, for the greater part, barely wide enough to admit of one mule pa.s.sing with its packs, the sides forming steep embankments, composed chiefly of rich clay, out, in many places, of large rocks, through which a pa.s.sage had evidently been cut with great labor. But little of the country can be seen on either side, owing to the height of these embankments; but now and then the traveller obtains a glimpse of dense thickets, and occasionally of undulating hills, the summits of which are covered with a deep perennial green.

The recent rains having poured in torrents down the steep sides of the road, every cavity and crevice was filled with water and mud. Owing to the nature of the soil, and the constant traffic across the route from the time it was originally cut through, innumerable stones and flags had sunk considerably below the level of their original position; whilst a few had retained their places, as if to serve as stepping-stones to the traveller over the wet and mud. It is a task of incessant and wearying exertion, however, even for those who are mounted on mules, to avoid floundering into some of these pitfalls and quagmires at every step they make.

"The mules themselves are, as I have already stated, so worn-out, and broken-down, that it requires the utmost vigilance and care on the part of their riders to prevent them dropping, and precipitating them into the mire. In order to guard as much as possible against this contingency, whenever ladies travel this route, they are obliged to discard the side-saddle, and resort to a less feminine style of equitation. I overtook a party of about twenty persons on the road, amongst whom was a married lady on her way to the States; and I watched her rather curiously, to observe how she got over the difficulties that beset her. Being fortified with that article of male attire, the figurative possession of which is said to denote domestic ascendency, she thought it inc.u.mbent upon her, I suppose, to display all the courage and nerve that should properly be encased in it.

Several times, when I fancied that both she and her mule were on the point of being capsized, she recovered herself with admirable presence of mind, and seemed to enjoy the risk exceedingly.

"As to myself, I floundered on as well as I could with a mule tottering beneath me from sheer exhaustion, and sinking every minute up to his knees in mud. It seemed to me that we were making little or no progress; and I became thoroughly tired and disheartened. I do not know any temptation, however powerful, that would again induce me to encounter the never-ending series of difficulties and annoyances that laid in wait for me at every step; and I must candidly own, that even the force of female example, of which I had so merry a specimen before me, did not at all shame me into a less impatient endurance of them.

"The negroes whom I met on their way to and from Panama excited my astonishment, from the amount of physical exertion which they seemed capable of undergoing. With their legs and feet bare, and nothing but a cloth around their loins, they carried enormous burdens on their backs, stepping from stone to stone with wonderful strength and dexterity. These poor creatures must lead the most wretched and laborious of all the painful modes of existence to which their race is condemned; and not even long habit, or their peculiar physical construction, can divest it of its distressing character in the eyes of a stranger. They all bear, on their hard and wrinkled faces, the stamp of overtaxed strength; but they seemed content with their lot, and will, doubtless, regret the formation of a better route, as tending to depreciate the value of their services. Notwithstanding the toilsome and laborious nature of their occupations, however, the carriers of Panama are the hardiest and most muscular race to be seen here; for the rest of the population, both white and black, are of comparatively sickly and diminutive appearance.

"Moving somewhat like a ship in a storm, rising and sinking alternately at stern and bow, surmounting first one huge stone, then a deep mud hole, then another stone, and then a small lake, my mule and myself at last reached Crucis in the evening, the whole distance traversed not being above twenty miles."[16]

The town of Crucis is a place very similar to Gorgona, but not so large. The houses are built of cane and plastered with mud. No attention is given to arrangement, and but a small portion is so constructed as to bear any resemblance to a street. The climate is unhealthy, and travellers from the United States make as short a stay there as possible. Doubtless, with the increase of travel, the character of the town and its accommodations will improve; but the heat and humidity of the atmosphere, particularly just after the rainy season, cause a great deal of injury to the health of people from the United States, and will prevent any considerable settlement of Anglo-Saxons in the town.

Panama, the terminus of the varied and difficult route across the Isthmus, is situated on the sh.o.r.e of an extensive and beautiful bay.

It contains about eight thousand inhabitants, most of whom are negroes. Being one of the old Spanish towns, upon the decline of the Spanish power, the place fell into decay. The houses are generally of stone or brick, two and three stories in height, whitewashed or covered with a coat of plaster, and are invariably surrounded by a balcony protected from sun and rain by the roofs of the houses extending over them. The town is regularly arranged, the strait and narrow streets intersecting each other at right angles. The substantial character of the buildings as well as the evidences of neglect and decay, strike the traveller at the same time. A wall was built by the Spaniards, around the portion of the town nearest the bay, but at least one half of the population reside beyond its limits, and it is in a dilapidated state. A venerable, decayed, but still imposing cathedral; a grand _plaza_, or open common--a general characteristic of Spanish built towns; several churches, partly in ruins; the ruins of the College of Jesuits, which cover a large extent, and of two monasteries, of which the walls and bells alone remain; and the frowning walls and towers of the battery, fronting the bay, are the princ.i.p.al features of the town of Panama. Since the commencement of the emigration to California, a number of Americans have established hotels and eating-houses in the town, and good accommodations are, therefore, to be obtained by travellers.

The atmosphere at Panama is particularly injurious to people from the northern climes, and great care must be taken by travellers during their stay at that place. It is best to avoid eating fruit altogether; but, if indulged in, it should be in very inconsiderable quant.i.ties.

Exposure to the mid-day sun is a frequent cause of sickness among the travellers, and should be avoided, as well as exposure to the rain.

During the rainy season, the _vomito_ is often prevalent among the inhabitants of Panama, and is generally a fatal disease; but there is a great deal less travel across the Isthmus during that season, on account of the sickliness of the climate and the difficulties of the route. A sort of bilious fever and dysentery are the most common forms of disease among travellers from the north; but both may be avoided by proper care.

From Panama, steamships of superior size and accommodation, convey pa.s.sengers to San Francisco. Starting from the front of the city, the beautiful bay, with its semi-circular sh.o.r.es skirted with green foliage and inclosed with high mountains, and the lofty islands of Flamingo, Perico, Taboga, and others, present themselves to the view.

At the island of Taboga, all the vessels that come into the bay obtain their supplies, and the Pacific Mail Steamship Company have established their depot for coal, &c., on its sh.o.r.es. After obtaining all the necessary supplies the steamship moves out of the bay, rounding Point Mala. The voyage upon the Pacific, with all its variety of incident and scenery, then commences. The princ.i.p.al annoyance of travellers is the almost intolerable heat of the sun and furnaces of the steamship united. Water-spouts and different species of whale are frequent sights. North of the Gulf of Tehuantepec, the steamer nears the land, and the bold mountain coast of Mexico breaks upon the view, and, at night, the pa.s.sengers enjoy a view of the glaring light produced by the burning volcano of Colima; though the volcano itself is but imperfectly seen being at the distance of ninety miles from the vessel. Soon after this fades from the view, the islands off the town of San Blas appear, and an immense white rock, isolated from the sea, serving as a lighthouse to ships steering for the port. At San Blas, the steamships remain some time, to obtain supplies of coal, fresh fruits, and provisions. These indispensables having been procured, the vessel proceeds upon her voyage. Cape Corientes next appears, and, soon afterwards, the entrance to the Gulf of California is approached; and then, Cape San Lucas, the extreme southern point of California, with its mountains and rocky sh.o.r.es, is hailed by the traveller as the first portion of the "promised land" that greets his sight. Pa.s.sing along the western coast of the peninsula, the island and bay of Magdalena appear, with sh.o.r.es three or four thousand feet above the sea. Next, the towering ridges of Cerros Isles are pa.s.sed, and the bold, rocky sh.o.r.es of the peninsula are in continual view. The change of the temperature of the air is generally keenly felt by those who do not take care to provide against it. Within a few days after leaving Panama, the thermometer falls from 95 to 55, and such a change must have an injurious effect, if additional clothing is not put on to meet it.

The first portion of Upper California, or, the "Golden Land," which presents itself to the voyagers, is the Ceronados, two high, round-topped rocks off the port of San Diego. Then the beautiful, semi-circular harbor is entered, and if wanting, supplies are obtained from the town. From the harbor of San Diego, the vessel proceeds along the coast of California, and the towering peaks of the coast range of mountains, engage the attention. The high promontory of St. Vincent is pa.s.sed, and then the open bay of Monterey is entered, and pa.s.sengers are either let off the steamer or taken aboard as necessity may occasion. From Monterey the steamer keeps along the coast, and mountainous sh.o.r.es alone meet the view, until the voyagers come in sight of the Farallones, two large detached rocks at the southern side of the entrance to the bay of San Francisco. Then the Golden Gate, as the strait or entrance is called, is entered by the steamer, and the perpendicular cliffs and hills upon each sh.o.r.e afford matter for wonder. The strait is about three miles long, and from one to two miles broad. As the vessel reaches its terminus, the great bay of San Francisco opens to the view, looking like a miniature ocean. Bird Island, Wood Island, Angel Island, with the beautiful little bay of Sancelito, successively meet the gaze, and very soon the steamer is anch.o.r.ed, having reached her destination. Such is the Isthmus route to the "gold region." It is the shortest route, or the one which occupies the least time in traversing, presents great variety, and upon the whole, its beauties and pleasures outnumber the difficulties and annoyances.

THE OVERLAND ROUTE.

We now proceed to give the general character and direction of that which is considered the best land route to California, and which is the most travelled by emigrants. The princ.i.p.al advantage possessed by this route may be stated in a few words. It is the shortest route to the bay of San Francisco and the gold region. The Indians upon the route are friendly and very few acts of hostility have been committed.

The trail is plain and good where there are no physical obstructions.

To these must be added the certainty of the emigrants reaching their place of destination, in good season; which will not exist, if new and unexplored routes are attempted. The greatest calamities and sufferings have been endured by those who have either taken an entirely different route, or deviated from the line which we will describe. Advice concerning the time of starting, preparations, &c., will be interspersed in the description.

The starting point, and the general rendezvous for emigrants, is the town of Independence, Missouri, situated about six miles from the Missouri River, on the south side of it. This town has been, for many years, the princ.i.p.al outfitting point for the Santa Fe traders, and contains about two thousand inhabitants. Emigrants should be at the starting place by the 20th of April, and start upon their journey as soon thereafter as the gra.s.s will permit. The outfit of companies of emigrants would be too tedious to mention, and as it varies considerably, from differences of means and taste, a description would hardly be accurate. But there are certain things which are indispensable to those who take this route, and these we will mention.

With respect to wagons and teams, the lightest wagon that can be constructed of sufficient strength to carry 2,500 pounds weight, is the vehicle most desirable. This can be drawn by three or four yokes of oxen, or six mules; oxen are usually employed for this purpose.

Pack mules can only be employed by parties of men; but the journey can be made in great deal less time with mules than with oxen. The provisions taken by the companies, consist mainly of flour, bacon, coffee, and sugar; besides these indispensables, there is rice, crackers, salt, pepper, and other luxuries of light weight. As to the quant.i.ty necessary, that may be determined by considering the length of the route and the average number of miles which the emigrants travel per day. From Independence to the first settlement in California, which is near the gold region, it is about two thousand and fifty miles--to San Francisco, 2,290 miles. Oxen teams travel about fifteen miles per day upon an average. At that rate, it would require one hundred and thirty-one days to reach the first settlement in California. Allowance should be made for stoppages by accident.

Every man should be provided with a good rifle, a pair of pistols, with a quant.i.ty of ammunition, and a bowie knife and hatchet, in his belt. A set of carpenter's tools is also necessary.

Starting from Independence, and travelling a few miles over a good road, the first prairie opens upon the view. This is called the Blue Prairie, and presents a surface undulating and clothed with rich verdure. In crossing this prairie, violent storms often overtake the emigrants, and to those who have not been accustomed to it, the scene during the storm is terrifically grand. Fourteen miles travel upon the prairie brings the emigrants to the "Blue Creek," which is fordable, except after a heavy rain. Fording the creek and crossing the timbered bottom of the stream, another magnificent prairie is entered, which is beyond the Missouri line, and within the Indian territory. Sixteen miles travel over this beautiful plain brings the emigrant to Indian Creek, the banks of which usually serve for a place of encampment. The prairie offers the best pasturage for cattle; but constant watching is necessary to keep them from straying away and returning to the settlements. From Indian Creek, the emigrants proceed across the prairie, along the Santa Fe trail, for about fifteen miles, and then leave it, turning off to the right hand. Crossing several deep ravines, which are very difficult of pa.s.sage in rainy weather, the emigrants arrive on the banks of the Werkarusa Creek. This is another favorite place of encampment, groves of trees being on each side of it. From this creek, the route is over the high-rolling prairie, upon a smooth and hard trail. The want of water is the only annoyance that is experienced by the travellers, and a long day's journey is necessary to bring them to the nearest creek--a branch of the Kansas River. The banks of the creek are steep, and considerable toil is requisite to cross it.

The crossing of the Kansas River is the next difficulty to be met.

There is a regular ferry about five miles from where the emigrants cross the tributary creek. At that place the river is never more than two hundred yards wide, even after heavy rains. The wagons are placed in boats, owned by the Indians, and transported to the opposite sh.o.r.e for the sum of one dollar per load. The oxen and horses are compelled to swim across. Following the trail for about three miles, a place of encampment, on the banks of Soldier Creek, is reached. The soil in the neighborhood of the Kansas is luxuriantly productive, and the most refreshing verdure meets the eye along the trails from that river to Soldier Creek. The route is then pursued over a flat plain--boggy in some places--for several miles, till another creek is reached, the banks of which are steep, and this, as in other cases, make its crossing a matter of great toil. The trail then runs over a high, undulating country, presenting every variety of scenery, as far as Black Paint Creek, near which are two Kansas Indian villages. The Kansas are a friendly tribe, and if they were not, they are not powerful enough to attack large parties of emigrants. They are somewhat disposed to pilfer whatever they can conveniently, and require close watching.

After crossing the creek, the trail is followed through a fertile valley, across Hurricane Creek, which is somewhat difficult of pa.s.sage, and then over an open and rolling prairie, broken by small branches and ravines. Many places, convenient for encamping, are to be found on the route, some of which have springs of pure cold water.

Farther on, the ground becomes more broken, and Vermilion Creek, a large and rapid stream, is reached. Its banks are steep, and its fording very toilsome and difficult. Between this creek and the Big Blue, there is neither wood nor water to be obtained, and therefore, it is customary for the emigrants to fill their casks at this place.

The ground between the two streams, a distance of ten miles, is more broken than any upon the former part of the route, and on arriving at the Big Blue, a steep descent is made to the low, bottom lands near the river. The usual width of the Big Blue is about a hundred yards, at which time alone it is fordable. It becomes much swollen by heavy rains, and very rapid in its current.

Arising from the bottom of the Big Blue River, the emigrants are again upon the high and undulating prairie. Every variety of scenery is presented to the view, and springs of water, issuing from the cliffy banks of the small branches and ravines, and shaded by groves of trees offer many places for rest and refreshment. Fourteen miles from the Big Blue, one of its tributaries, exceedingly difficult to cross with large wagons and teams, is met with. After pa.s.sing it, the trail runs over a smooth inclined plane for the distance of twelve miles, to another encamping place for emigrants, upon the banks of a small creek. From that creek there is a gradual ascent for the distance of about fourteen miles, and then a beautiful valley, through which flows a small stream, meets the eye of the wearied emigrants, and offers groves of oak to serve for places of rest. Then there is another gradual ascent, through a country which is more sandy and less fertile than any met with upon the former part of the route, for more than twenty miles. The Little Blue is then reached, and the train continues along up the banks of the stream for the distance of about fifty miles; the road being dry and firm, except in a few ravines. The trail then diverges from the stream to the right, ascending over the bluffs, into the high table land of the prairie, and continues to ascend gradually until the bluffs overlooking the valley of the Platte River, are reached. The soil along this part of the trail is sandy, and the gra.s.s rather scarce; but water can be obtained at several places.

The Platte River is about one hundred and fifty yards in breadth where the trail reaches it. The current is sluggish and turbid, and the water is very shallow. The trail continues along the banks of the river, the course of which is nearly from west to east, and the road is all that could be wished for travelling. The bluffs which skirt the valley present considerable variety, and as the route is continued, they become more elevated and broken. The soil of the valley becomes less fertile and the vegetation is thin and short. After traversing the valley of the Platte for the distance of one hundred and thirty miles, the trail crosses the river and continues along the northern bank of the south fork for about twelve miles, when it diverges from the stream to pa.s.s over the prairie to the north fork. The distance from the south to the north fork of the Platte, by the emigrant trail, is about twenty-two miles, without water. The country between the two streams is high and rolling. The soil is poor, the gra.s.s short, and no trees or shrubs are visible. The trail descends into the valley of the north fork of the Platte, through a pa.s.s known as Ash Hollow. There is but one steep or difficult place for wagons in the pa.s.s, and in the valley will be found a spring of pure cool water. At this place, there is a sort of post office, where letters are left by emigrants, with requests that they shall be taken to the States by those who pa.s.s this way.

For several miles from Ash Hollow the trail pa.s.ses over a sandy soil, which is very soft, but which afterwards becomes firmer. The scenery then presents the aspect of barrenness and desolation. Sand and rocks are all that meet the view for many miles. The landscape then a.s.sumes a greener and more refreshing appearance, and groves of trees relieve the emigrants from pursuing their way any farther during the day.

Farther on, the well-known landmark, called the "Chimney Rock," which can be seen at a great distance, is met by the emigrants. It is composed of soft rock, and is several hundred feet high. The scenery in the neighbourhood of the rock is very remarkable and picturesque.

There are a number of rocky elevations which present the appearance of vast temples and pyramids, with domes and spires partially in ruins.

Over a sandy soil, the trail is pursued for about twenty miles, the surrounding scenery being of the most sublime and singular character.

Near a remarkable rocky conformation, called "Scott's Bluff," the trail leaves the river, and runs over a smooth valley in the rear of the bluff. It there ascends to the top of the dividing ridge, from which the Rocky Mountains can be seen. Descending from the ridge, it pa.s.ses over a barren country, broken by deep chasms and ravines, for about twelve miles, when Horse Creek is reached. From that creek, the trail is followed to the Platte River, where a place for encampment is found, though the gra.s.s is very indifferent. Continuing for several miles through a barren country, the trail is followed to "Fort Bernard," a small building, rudely constructed of logs, used as a trading-post. Eight miles farther on, is Fort Laramie, or Fort John, as it is sometimes called. This fort has been the princ.i.p.al trading-post of the American Fur Company. It is situated in the Laramie River, near its junction with the Platte, and is six hundred and seventy-two miles from Independence. The building is quadrangular, and is constructed of _adobe_, or sun-dried bricks. Its walls are surmounted by watch-towers and its gate is defended by two bra.s.s swivels.

From Fort Laramie, the trail continues on through a broken country, to the Platte River, a distance of twenty miles. Crossing a small creek which empties into the Platte, it proceeds through the dry bed of one of its branches, over a deep sand for six or eight miles, and reaches the summit of a high ridge. From thence it descends into a narrow valley, through which flows a small stream of pure water. Another ridge of hills is then ascended, and a wild, desolate, but picturesque scene is presented to the view. Numerous lofty mountain peaks, barren rocks, and a vast prospect of low conical hills are the princ.i.p.al features. Through a country, the princ.i.p.al features of which are of this description, the trail is followed, and the monotony of the journey is only relieved by an occasional stoppage at a refreshing spring of water. The trail gradually ascends towards the summit of the Rocky Mountains, and the country becomes more broken and sterile, till it reaches Beaver Creek, a tributary of the Platte. There the gra.s.s and water are good, and the wood is abundant. The country exhibits every indication of fertility upon the trail leading from Beaver Creek, and pure and limpid streams are frequent, until the Platte River is again struck and followed upon its southern bank, for the distance of about eighteen miles. The river is then forded, and the trail ascends the high bluffs overlooking the valley, and proceeds over several miles of table-land till the valley of the Platte is again reached. At this point, the trail finally leaves the Platte, and, ascending the bluffs on the right, pa.s.ses over an arid plain diversified with immense piles of rocks, deep ravines and chasms, and presenting a wide-spread sterility and desolation, for the distance of forty miles. Water is to be obtained in very small quant.i.ties and at few places on this part of the trail, and, therefore a scarcity should be provided for before leaving the Platte. At the end of that distance, the trail descends into a small valley, where spring water can be obtained and some refreshing shade. Ascending from this valley, the trail gradually ascends to the summit of a dividing ridge, from which a view of the Sweet.w.a.ter River Mountains can be obtained.

Descending from the ridge, a small stream, the gra.s.sy banks of which serve for an encampment, is soon reached. Farther on is a well-known landmark among the mountains, called Independence Rock. It is an isolated elevation, composed of ma.s.ses of rock, about one hundred feet in height, and a mile in circ.u.mference, standing near the northern bend of the Sweet.w.a.ter River, and between the ranges of mountains which border the valley of that stream.

The trail proceeds up the Sweet.w.a.ter River, and pa.s.ses a remarkable fissure in the Rocky Mountain wall, which is called the Devil's Gate.

The fissure is about thirty feet in breadth, and the perpendicular walls on each side of the channel of the stream which flows through it, are nearly three hundred feet high. The trail leaves the river about twelve miles from where it first strikes it, and then returns to it after traversing about sixteen miles. It again diverges from the river and crosses a broken and arid plain, which presents but few signs of vegetation. Pa.s.sing through a gap between two ranges of granite mountains, the first view of the Wind River Mountains is obtained. The trail then proceeds through a narrow valley several miles in length, the surface of which is white with an alkaline efflorescence, and then returns to the Sweet.w.a.ter River. Continuing up the valley of the Sweet.w.a.ter, occasionally leaving the bank of the stream and pa.s.sing over the rolling and barren tablelands, it crosses two small creeks which present good places for encampment. Several miles farther on, the trail crosses the Sweet.w.a.ter River, and then leaves it finally, making a gradual ascent to the South Pa.s.s of the Rocky Mountains, or the dividing ridge which separate the waters of the Atlantic and Pacific.

After the summit of the ridge is reached, the trail pa.s.ses two or three miles over a level surface, and then descends to the spring, well known to emigrants as the "Pacific Spring." The water from this spring is emptied into the Colorado River of the West, which river empties into the Gulf of California. This Pacific Spring is two miles west of the South Pa.s.s, and nine hundred and eighty-three miles from Independence, Missouri.

From the Pacific Spring, the trail pa.s.ses over an arid, undulating plain, in a west-by-north course, for about twenty-eight miles, when the "Little Sandy" River, a branch of the Green or Colorado River, presents itself, and furnishes the first water after leaving Pacific Spring. From the Little Sandy River, the trail pa.s.ses over a plain of white sand or clay, and within twelve miles reaches the Big Sandy River, and pa.s.ses along it for about eighteen miles, and then strikes off and crosses the Green River, or Colorado of the West. This river is shallow and only about seventy yards broad. The trail then continues down the Green River a short distance, and then, making a right angle, ascends the bluffs bordering the valley of the stream, in nearly a west course. The country then becomes still more broken and barren, and the trail ascends gradually to the summit of a ridge, from which it descends to the banks of the Black Fork, a tributary of the Green River. This Black Fork is crossed several times upon the route, but is not more than sixty yards wide and is very shallow. The trail leaves it to cut off the bends and then returns to it. The scenery along this part of the route is interesting, but the soil is frightfully sterile. Diverging from the stream the trail pa.s.ses over a barren plain with no vegetation upon it except the wild sage, so common even in the most sterile country, and then pa.s.ses through a bottom of gra.s.s, offering a good place for an encampment.

Near this place is Fort Bridger, a small trading-post established by a Mr. Bridger. The buildings are two or three rudely constructed log cabins, and they are situated in a handsome fertile bottom, on the banks of a small stream. This fort is about eleven hundred miles from Independence, Missouri. From Fort Bridger, many parties anxious to explore the country, take the route by way of the south end of the great Salt Lake. But the scarcity of water and the other difficulties encountered in crossing the sterile plains and the great Salt Desert should be sufficient to deter emigrants with families from taking that direction. Oxen could not travel fast enough from one watering-place to another, and must necessarily perish from thirst. Besides, the route is but poorly defined, and may be wandered from very easily.

The trail of the old route, and the one taken by most of the emigrants, leaves Fort Bridger, and pursues a north-westerly course, through the Bear River valley, which it leaves at a remarkable landmark called Sheep Rock, and crossing a dividing ridge reaches Fort Hall, by the valley of the Portneaf River. This fort was established by the Hudson Bay Company, and it is the seat of a considerable trade in furs with the Indians and trappers. From Fort Hall the trail continues on till it reaches the valley of Mary's River. There a tolerably fertile soil and refreshing vegetation greets the eye of the travel-worn emigrant. The trail crosses the river five or six times in as many miles, in order to take advantage of the narrow bottoms made by the windings of the stream. The bottom is skirted by very high ranges of mountains to where the trail leaves it, and turning to the right ascends over low, gravelly hills. Descending from the summit of a ridge of hills, it pa.s.ses through a valley where good gra.s.s and water can be obtained--the valley containing several springs of pure cold water. Emerging from this valley through a narrow gap, the trail pa.s.ses into another still more extensive, and pursues a south-westerly direction for about twenty miles, keeping near the margin of Mary's River. A succession of low hills are crossed, and another valley is reached. During the journey through these valleys, the emigrants are exposed to the fiery rays of the sun, and the hot winds from the desert are very oppressive. The trail then follows the course of the river in a direction nearly north-west, through valleys, or plains of great extent, and mountainous defiles, occasionally following a bend of the river towards the south-west. The greater portion of these valleys is barren, but there are frequent fertile spots near the boiling springs. The only Indians met on this part of the route are the diggers, and they do not possess the power to do much harm, if they even were hostile; but they are friendly. The want of water is the princ.i.p.al annoyance.

Pa.s.sing over the desolate valleys and hills that border Mary's River, the trail descends into a large circular basin, in which a place for encamping is found, but with little water. From this basin, it crosses some considerable elevations and then a totally barren plain ten miles wide. Beyond this, water and gra.s.s of tolerable quality are soon found; and there, if possible, a supply should be obtained sufficient to last for a long day's journey. Rounding the base of a mountain, the trail takes a south-west course, across a totally barren plain. No sign of the river, or the existence of any water is exhibited. Near the southern edge of the plain, which is twenty miles in extent, some pools of standing water are found, and the place is known as the "Sink of Mary's River." From these pools to the Truckee, or Salmon Trout River, the distance is forty-five miles. The trail is followed over the hills of ashy earth, in which the mules often sink to their bellies, and over a ground dest.i.tute of any vegetation, except occasional clumps of wild sage. A ridge of mountains is then ascended by an easy inclined plain, and a view of the distant range of Sierra Nevada is obtained on reaching the summit. The intervening valley presents as barren a prospect as the country immediately preceding it.

Descending into it, numerous boiling springs are found, which often serve to delude the thirsty emigrants. But by damming up the streams which flow from them, the water may be cooled, and, although impregnated with salt, sulphur, and magnesia, it may quench the thirst. The phenomenon of mirage is frequently presented to the view of the emigrants, and it very often a.s.sumes the appearance of things unknown to that desert region, such as lakes, cascades, and foaming and tumbling waters. About twelve miles from the springs, a ridge of sandy hills, running across the valley, is ascended, and then an elevated plain of about ten miles in extent is crossed by the trail.

Over this plain the travelling is very laborious--the sand being very deep. But at length the Truckee River is reached, and water, gra.s.s and trees, larger than any upon the former part of the route for five hundred miles preceding, greet the wearied and thirsty emigrant.

The Truckee River is about fifty feet in breadth with a shallow but rapid current of clear water. The bottom land is exceedingly fertile, and game is sometimes to be obtained in its neighborhood. The trail crosses the Truckee very frequently, in its winding course, but the country being agreeable, this is not considered toilsome by the emigrant, after traversing the barren plains in the vicinity of Mary's River. The course of the Truckee is nearly from the south-west to the north-east, and in some places it pa.s.ses between very high mountains, affording scarcely room for travellers to pa.s.s. Sometimes the trail is followed through fertile valleys and then over barren hills and rocky pa.s.ses till the summit of a gap in the mountains is reached, and a pleasant valley opens to the view, offering a fine place for encampment. The trail then turns to the left, and proceeds in a southerly direction, crossing the Truckee several times, until the Truckee Lake breaks upon the view. This small sheet of water is surrounded by lofty mountains, except upon the side where its outlet flows from it. The trail strikes the sh.o.r.e of the lake at its eastern end, and continues around its north-eastern side over a very difficult, boggy road. Having reached the upper end of the lakes, the trail leaves the sh.o.r.e on the right hand, ascends over some rocky hills, and, crossing some deep ravines and swampy ground, arrives at the base of the crest of the Sierra Nevada. Then comes the ascent of the steep pa.s.s--a work of difficulty and danger. The mules are compelled to leap from crag to crag, and, when heavily laden, are often precipitated backward in climbing the almost perpendicular rocks.

Having attained the summit of the pa.s.s, the view is inexpressibly grand and comprehensive. A mile journey upon the top of the mountain brings the traveller to a small lake, surrounded by good gra.s.s, which is often used as a place of encampment. Leaving the lake on the right hand, the trail descends over the rocky ground for a few miles, and then enters a beautiful valley about five miles long. Through this valley, which is called the Yuba valley, by the emigrants, flows the Yuba River, a tributary of the Feather River, and the scene of considerable gold digging and washing. This is the commencement of the gold region, and after their journey through the wilderness, here the emigrants greet the "promised land." From this point to Sacramento city, the great terminus of the overland emigration, it is about sixty miles; but the trading post of Yuba, Johnson's ranche, Vernon, and the other posts, offer convenient intermediate resting places.

We have thus sketched the general character of the princ.i.p.al overland route to California, and have followed the trail of the emigrant over all the difficulties and obstacles which present themselves upon the route. That there are portions of the journey which are productive of considerable suffering, and which demand stout hearts and strong const.i.tutions to meet them, is not to be doubted. But they are few compared with the dangers to be encountered by deviating from the particular trail whose course we have followed. The want of water is the princ.i.p.al source of annoyance towards the lake part of the route, but this occurs in few places. The longest distance to be travelled without finding water, is about forty-five miles--from the "Sink" of Mary's River to Truckee River, and this may be prepared for. It is a matter of great importance, that the delay upon the route should be as little as possible. Great suffering and many deaths have been caused by delaying too long at different camping places. It should be made an urgent duty to get over as much ground every day as possible, and to keep in the old trail.

The overland route which we have sketched, and the route by way of Chagres and Panama, are the two routes by which most of the California emigrations had proceeded; but there are others projected, and some have been followed. Many persons have proceeded to California through Mexico; but the difficulty and delay in the matter of pa.s.sports, and the opposition of the Mexicans to armed parties of another country pa.s.sing their territory, must prove weighty objections to any such route. Another has been projected, and will probably be opened. It is a route across the territory of Nicaragua, in Central America. This will be the shortest and most convenient route to the gold region, and will absorb the greater portion of the travel thither; but the overland route will always be taken by those who have been accustomed to a country life, or have a thirst for adventure. It presents the greatest variety of scenery--some of it of a character not to be seen elsewhere; and affords opportunities for studying nature in all her visible forms; and, though attended with toils and dangers, which will daunt the feeble, it possesses the strongest attractions for the lovers of variety, and the hardy adventurer who has confidence in his own powers of endurance.

FOOTNOTES:

[14] Diary of a Physician in California, by James L. Tyson, M.D.

[15] Diary of a Physician in California, by James L. Tyson, M.D.

[16] Personal Adventures in California, by W. Redmond Ryan.

CHAPTER XII.

RECENT EVENTS.