A VIEW IN THE CASCADES.
The Cascade Range of mountains extends from Southern Oregon through Washington Territory, away to the northward in British Columbia. In width, from east to west, it varies from fifty to one hundred miles. It is the most densely-timbered range on the continent, and yet is one of the highest and most rugged. It may not possess so many ragged, shapeless crags and dark cañons as the Rocky Range, and yet everyone who has ever traversed both accords to the Cascades the distinction of being the equal, in picturesqueness and grandeur, of the Rockies, or, in fact, of any other range in the country. As continental landmarks, Mounts Pitt, Union, Thielson, Jefferson, Hood, Adams, St. Helens, Tacoma, Baker, Stuart, Chiam, Douglass, and others are unsurpassed. Their hoary crests tower to such majestic heights as to be visible, in some instances, hundreds of miles, and their many glaciers feed mighty rivers upon whose bosoms the commerce of nations is borne. Mount Jefferson is 9,020 feet high; Mount Adams, 9,570; Mount St. Helens, 9,750; Mount Baker, 10,800, Mount Hood, 11,025, and Mount Tacoma, 14,444. There are many other peaks that rise to altitudes of 7,000 to 9,000 feet, and from these figures one may readily form something of an idea of the general height and beauty of the Cascade Range. The foot-hills are generally high, rolling, and picturesque, and so heavily timbered that in many places one cannot see a hundred yards in any direction. Higher up the range, however, this heavy timber is replaced by smaller trees, that stand farther apart, and the growth of underbrush is not so dense; consequently, the labor of travel is lightened and the range of vision is extended. The geological formation in the Cascades is varied. Igneous rock abounds; extensive basaltic cliffs and large bodies of granite, limestone, sandstone, etc., are frequently met with, and nearly all the table-lands, in and about the foot-hills, are composed of gravel drift, covered with vegetable mold. The Cascades may be explored with comfort later in the fall than the Rockies or other more eastern ranges, the winter setting in on the former much later than on the latter, although the winter rains usually come in November. September and October are the most pleasant months for an outing in the Cascades.
ONEONTA GORGE, COLUMBIA RIVER, OREGON.
* * * It was late in October when my wife and I started from Chicago for a tour of a month among the bristling peaks of the Cascades and the picturesque islands of Puget Sound. A pleasant ride of fifteen hours on the Wisconsin Central Railroad to St. Paul, and another of three days and nights on the grand old Northern Pacific, brought us face to face with the glittering crests and beetling cliffs that were the objects of our pilgrimage. As the tourist goes west, the first view of the range is obtained at the Dalles of the Columbia river, from whence old Mount Hood, thirty-five miles distant, rears its majestic head high into the ethereal vault of heaven, and neighboring peaks, of lesser magnitude, unfold themselves to the enraptured vision. As the train whirls down the broad Columbia river, every curve, around which we swing with dazzling speed, reveals to our bewildered gaze new forms of beauty and new objects of wonder. So many descriptions of the scenery along this mystic stream have been written, that every reading man, woman, and child in the land must be familiar with it, and I will not repeat or attempt to improve upon any of them. To say the most extravagant representations are not exaggerated, is to speak truly, and no one can know how beautiful some of these towers and cliffs are until he has seen them.
The train arrived at Portland, that old and far-famed metropolis of the North Pacific coast, at half past ten o'clock in the morning, and after twenty-four hours pleasantly spent in viewing its many points of interest and the snow-covered mountains thereabouts, we again boarded the Northern Pacific train and sped toward Tacoma, where we arrived at six o'clock in the evening. Here we passed another day in looking over a booming Western city, whose future prosperity and greatness have been assured by its having been chosen as the tide-water terminus of the Northern Pacific Railway. Tacoma is situated on Commencement Bay, an arm of Puget Sound, and has a harbor navigable for the largest ocean steamships. The vast forests of pine, fir, and cedar, with which it is surrounded, give Tacoma great commercial importance as a lumbering town, and the rich agricultural valleys thereabout assure home production of breadstuffs, vegetables, meats, etc., sufficient to feed its army of workingmen. Rich coal fields, in the immediate neighborhood, furnish fuel for domestic and manufacturing purposes at merely nominal prices. All the waters hereabouts abound in salmon, several varieties of trout and other food-fishes, while in the woods and mountains adjacent, elk, deer, and bears are numerous; so the place will always be a popular resort for the sportsman and the tourist. The chief attraction of the city, however, for the traveler, will always be the fine view it affords of Mount Tacoma. This grand old pinnacle of the Cascade Range, forty-five miles distant, lifts its snow-mantled form far above its neighbors, which are themselves great mountains, while its glacier-crowned summit rises, towers, and struggles aloft 'til——
"Round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head;"
and its crown is almost lost in the limitless regions of the deep blue sky.
From the verandas of the Tacoma House one may view Mount Tacoma until wearied with gazing. The Northern Pacific Railway runs within fifteen miles of the base of it, and from the nearest point a trail has been made, at a cost of some thousands of dollars, by which tourists may ascend the mountain on horseback, to an altitude of about 10,000 feet, with comparative comfort; but he who goes above that height must work his passage. There are several men who claim the distinction of being the only white man that has ever been to the top of this mountain. Others declare that it has been ascended only twice; but we have authentic information of at least three successful and complete ascents having been made. Indian legends people the mountain with evil spirits, which are said to dwell in boiling caldrons and yawning caverns—
"Calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire,
And airy tongues that syllable men's names."