Lady's Life in the Rocky Mountains , livre ebook

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pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. Lake Tahoe- Morning in San Francisco- Dust- A Pacific mail-train- Digger Indians- Cape Horn- A mountain hotel- A pioneer- A Truckee livery stable- A mountain stream- Finding a bear- Tahoe.

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	27 septembre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819928676
Langue	English

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A LADY'S LIFE
IN THE
ROCKY MOUNTAINS
Isabella L. Bird
Introduction by
Ann Ronald
University of Nevada, Reno
To My Sister,
to whom
these letters were originally written,
they are now
affectionately dedicated.
Introduction, by Ann Ronald
LETTER I
Lake Tahoe— Morning in San Francisco— Dust— APacific mail-train— Digger Indians— Cape Horn— A mountain hotel— Apioneer— A Truckee livery stable— A mountain stream— Finding abear— Tahoe.
LETTER II
A lady's “get-up”— Grizzly bears— The “Gem of theSierras”— A tragic tale— A carnival of color.
LETTER III
A Temple of Morpheus— Utah— A “God-forgotten” town—A distressed couple— Dog villages— A temperance colony— A Coloradoinn— The bug pest— Fort Collins.
LETTER IV
A plague of flies— A melancholy charioteer— The FootHills— A mountain boarding-house— A dull life— “Being agreeable”—Climate of Colorado— Soroche and snakes.
LETTER V
A dateless day— “Those hands of yours”— A Puritan—Persevering shiftlessness— The house-mother— Family worship— A grimSunday— A “thick-skulled Englishman”— A morning call— Anotheratmosphere— The Great Lone Land— “Ill found”— A log camp— Badfooting for horses— Accidents— Disappointment.
LETTER VI
A bronco mare— An accident— Wonderland— A sad story—The children of the Territories— Hard greed— Halcyon hours—Smartness— Old-fashioned prejudices— The Chicago colony— Good luck—Three notes of admiration— A good horse— The St. Vrain— The RockyMountains at last— “Mountain Jim”— A death hug— Estes Park.
LETTER VII
Personality of Long's Peak— “Mountain Jim”— Lake ofthe Lilies— A silent forest— The camping ground— “Ring”— A lady'sbower— Dawn and sunrise— A glorious view— Links of diamonds— Theascent of the Peak— The “Dog's Lift”— Suffering from thirst— Thedescent— The bivouac.
LETTER VIII
Estes Park— Big game— “Parks” in Colorado—Magnificent scenery— Flowers and pines— An awful road— Our logcabin— Griffith Evans— A miniature world— Our topics— A nightalarm— A skunk— Morning glories— Daily routine— The panic— “Waitfor the wagon”— A musical evening.
LETTER IX
“Please Ma'ams”— A desperado— A cattle hunt— Themuster— A mad cow— A snowstorm— Snowed up— Birdie— The Plains— Aprairie schooner— Denver— A find— Plum Creek— “Being agreeable”—Snowbound— The grey mare.
LETTER X
A white world— Bad traveling— A millionaire's home—Pleasant Park— Perry's Park— Stock-raising— A cattle king— TheArkansas Divide— Birdie's sagacity— Luxury— Monument Park—Deference to prejudice— A death scene— The Manitou— A loose shoe—The Ute Pass— Bergens Park— A settler's home— Hayden's Divide—Sharp criticism— Speaking the truth.
LETTER XI
Tarryall Creek— The Red Range— Excelsior—Importunate pedlars— Snow and heat— A bison calf— Deep drifts—South Park— The Great Divide— Comanche Bill— Difficulties— Hall'sGulch— A Lord Dundreary— Ridiculous fears.
LETTER XII
Deer Valley— Lynch law— Vigilance committees— Thesilver spruce— Taste and abstinence— The whisky fiend— Smartness—Turkey Creek Canyon— The Indian problem— Public rascality— Friendlymeetings— The way to the Golden City— A rising settlement— ClearCreek Canyon— Staging— Swearing— A mountain town.
LETTER XIII
The blight of mining— Green Lake— Golden City—Benighted— Vertigo— Boulder Canyon— Financial straits— A hard ride—The last cent— A bachelor's home— “Mountain Jim”— A surprise— Anight arrival— Making the best of it— Scanty fare.
LETTER XIV
A dismal ride— A desperado's tale— “Lost! Lost!Lost! ”— Winter glories— Solitude— Hard times— Intense cold— A packof wolves— The beaver dams— Ghastly scenes— Venison steaks— Ourevenings.
LETTER XV
A whisky slave— The pleasures of monotony— Themountain lion— “Another mouth to feed”— A tiresome boy— An outcast—Thanksgiving Day— The newcomer— A literary humbug— Milking a drycow— Trout-fishing— A snow-storm— A desperado's den.
LETTER XVI
A harmonious home— Intense cold— A purple sun— Agrim jest— A perilous ride— Frozen eyelids— Longmount— The pathlessprairie— Hardships of emigrant life— A trapper's advice— The LittleThompson— Evans and “Jim. ”
LETTER XVII
Woman's mission— The last morning— Crossing the St.Vrain— Miller— The St. Vrain again— Crossing the prairie— “Jim's”dream— “Keeping strangers”— The inn kitchen— A reputed child-eater—Notoriety— A quiet dance— “Jim's” resolve— The frost-fall— Anunfortunate introduction.
Letter I
Lake Tahoe— Morning in San Francisco— Dust— APacific mail-train— Digger Indians— Cape Horn— A mountain hotel— Apioneer— A Truckee livery stable— A mountain stream— Finding abear— Tahoe.
LAKE TAHOE, September 2.
I have found a dream of beauty at which one mightlook all one's life and sigh. Not lovable, like the SandwichIslands, but beautiful in its own way! A strictly North Americanbeauty— snow-splotched mountains, huge pines, red-woods, sugarpines, silver spruce; a crystalline atmosphere, waves of therichest color; and a pine-hung lake which mirrors all beauty on itssurface. Lake Tahoe is before me, a sheet of water twenty-two mileslong by ten broad, and in some places 1, 700 feet deep. It lies ata height of 6, 000 feet, and the snow-crowned summits which wall itin are from 8, 000 to 11, 000 feet in altitude. The air is keen andelastic. There is no sound but the distant and slightly musicalring of the lumberer's axe.
It is a weariness to go back, even in thought, tothe clang of San Francisco, which I left in its cold morning fogearly yesterday, driving to the Oakland ferry through streets withside-walks heaped with thousands of cantaloupe and water-melons,tomatoes, cucumbers, squashes, pears, grapes, peaches, apricots—all of startling size as compared with any I ever saw before. Otherstreets were piled with sacks of flour, left out all night, owingto the security from rain at this season. I pass hastily over theearly part of the journey, the crossing the bay in a fog as chillas November, the number of “lunch baskets, ” which gave the car thelook of conveying a great picnic party, the last view of thePacific, on which I had looked for nearly a year, the fiercesunshine and brilliant sky inland, the look of long RAINLESSNESS,which one may not call drought, the valleys with sides crimson withthe poison oak, the dusty vineyards, with great purple clustersthick among the leaves, and between the vines great dusty melonslying on the dusty earth. From off the boundless harvest fields thegrain was carried in June, and it is now stacked in sacks along thetrack, awaiting freightage. California is a “land flowing with milkand honey. ” The barns are bursting with fullness. In the dustyorchards the apple and pear branches are supported, that they maynot break down under the weight of fruit; melons, tomatoes, andsquashes of gigantic size lie almost unheeded on the ground; fatcattle, gorged almost to repletion, shade themselves under theoaks; superb “red” horses shine, not with grooming, but withcondition; and thriving farms everywhere show on what a solid basisthe prosperity of the “Golden State” is founded. Very uninviting,however rich, was the blazing Sacramento Valley, and very repulsivethe city of Sacramento, which, at a distance of 125 miles from thePacific, has an elevation of only thirty feet. The mercury stood at103 degrees in the shade, and the fine white dust was stifling.
In the late afternoon we began the ascent of theSierras, whose sawlike points had been in sight for many miles. Thedusty fertility was all left behind, the country became rocky andgravelly, and deeply scored by streams bearing the muddy wash ofthe mountain gold mines down to the muddier Sacramento. There werelong broken ridges and deep ravines, the ridges becoming longer,the ravines deeper, the pines thicker and larger, as we ascendedinto a cool atmosphere of exquisite purity, and before 6 P. M. thelast traces of cultivation and the last hardwood trees were leftbehind. [1]
[1] In consequence of the unobservedomission of a date to my letters having been pointed out to me, Itake this opportunity of stating that I traveled in Colorado in theautumn and early winter of 1873, on my way to England from theSandwich Islands. The letters are a faithful picture of the countryand state of society as it then was; but friends who have returnedfrom the West within the last six months tell me that things arerapidly changing, that the frame house is replacing the log cabin,and that the footprints of elk and bighorn may be sought for invain on the dewy slopes of Estes Park.
I. L. B.
(Author's note to the third edition, January 16,1880. )
At Colfax, a station at a height of 2, 400 feet, Igot out and walked the length of the train. First came two greatgaudy engines, the Grizzly Bear and the White Fox, with theirrespective tenders loaded with logs of wood, the engines withgreat, solitary, reflecting lamps in front above the cow guards, aquantity of polished brass-work, comfortable glass houses, andwell-stuffed seats for the engine-drivers. The engines and tenderswere succeeded by a baggage car, the latter loaded with bullion andvaluable parcels, and in charge of two “express agents. ” Each ofthese cars is forty-five feet long. Then came two cars loaded withpeaches and grapes; then two “silver palace” cars, each sixty feetlong; then a smoking car, at that time occupied mainly by Chinamen;and then five ordinary passenger cars, with platforms like all theothers, making altogether a train about 700 feet in length.
The platforms of the four front cars were clusteredover with Digger Indians, with their squaws, children, and gear.They are perfect savages, without any aptitude for even aboriginalcivilization, and are altogether the most degraded of the ill-fatedtribes which are dying out before the white races. They were allvery diminutive, five feet one inch being, I should think, aboutthe average height, with flat noses, wide mouths, and black hair,cut straight above the eyes and hanging lank and long at the backand sides. The squaws wore their hair thickly plastered with pitch,and a broad