Before sketching one of these hills, I ascended it and clambered up the rock, which varied from six to eight feet in height. Here, among some bushes, I saw a smoke arising, and on one of the shrubs hung an Indian's cap and his lance. I approached the spot, and suddenly found myself in the presence of a large, fat squaw, who lay basking in the sunshine, clad in the habiliments which nature had given her, with the addition of a very slight substitute, for that leafy garment which was once the fashion at a very remote period in the world's history. Two little dusky cherubs sat near her, and the partner of her joys and sorrows lay on the ground at a little distance, enjoying a comfortable siesta. It was a charming picture of contented indolence, and I have seen more than one lazy white man, who would have coveted their enjoyment.
I attempted to enter into conversation with the lady, and asked her if she had some baskets to sell. She made no reply, but, with becoming modesty, though with no affectation of haste, took up her blanket that lay near her, and half veiled her charms from my admiring gaze. Finding her disinclined to talk, I left her, descended the hill, made my sketch, and continued my walk.
March 6, 1875. With an Indian for a guide, I visited a fine water-fall in a solitary place among the mountains. On our return, my guide conducted me to a rancherie, consisting of half a dozen wigwams. As we approached them, the dogs barked, the children screamed, the old women drew on their blankets, and the naked girls retreated behind the cabins. An old man and an old woman sat quietly on their haunches, and a young man lay sick and squalid on the ground beside a bed of embers that were kept alive at his head. My guide sat down beside them without any ceremony, and they all preserved a profound silence during several minutes, as if they were offering up a silent prayer to the Great Spirit for the recovery of the invalid. At the end of this ceremony, they became talkative, the young man ate the remains of a lunch I had brought with me, and the old man begged two bits, (for these Indians, like all others, are inveterate beggars) when we proceeded on our journey.
May 29, 1859. A rude dug-out having been brought up the river, I crossed over in it, and walked to the foot of the fall. A dense spray prevents a near approach to the fall, which comes down in a perpendicular descent, until within a hundred feet of the bottom, when it strikes a projecting rock, and dashes off in a shower of spray. I speak of the lower fall only, for the cataract is divided into three portions, the upper portion coming down perpendicularly; the middle portion being a wild rapid, in a deep, dark, and fearful canyon, in which the stream falls four hundred feet, and then drops down six hundred feet further to the base of the great wall, making an aggregate of more than half a mile.
The view upward from the foot of the fall is particularly impressive. The middle fall of four hundred feet, is entirely hid from the sight, and such is the immense height of the whole, that the space occupied by this middle fall seems dwindled to a few feet, and the spectator can scarcely realize that such a fall does, indeed, exist. But the view of the fall from this near approach is more than impressive, it is sublime; and the spectator finds himself overwhelmed with a feeling of intense awe, as he looks upward and beholds the foaming, roaring water pouring down, as it were, from the very depths of heaven,
"So wild and furious in its sparkling fall,
Dashing its torrents down, and dazzling all;
Sublimely breaking from its glorious height,
Majestic, thundering, beautiful and bright."