From San Francisco we made a trip to the Mariposa Grove, and the Yosemite valley. We traveled by rail to a small station nearest the grove. Then by stage we rode to the terminus of the line. From there we went but a short distance to the grove. This majestic survivor of the forest has been so often been described that details are not necessary. We measured the trees, and rode on horseback nearly one hundred feet through one of the fallen monsters. We also attempted to form a ring with hands and arms extended around one of these trees, but our party was not numerous enough to encircle it. I felt a sense of insignificance when I realized the long life of some of these trees, estimated to span forty generations of men, and still in health and strength. We returned to the stage station and again mounted our horses and mules for the perilous adventure of a descent into the Yosemite valley. It so happened that Mr. Bell, the keeper of the station, was a former resident of Bellville, in Richland county, Ohio, in which I live. He knew me well, and his wife I knew as the daughter of a leading farmer of that county. I thought I might utilize this acquaintance by asking him to see that I was well mounted to descend to the valley. Much to my surprise a spirited horse, well accoutered, was brought out for Colonel Scott, and a shaggy short-legged mule, with a California saddle and a common but stout bridle, was brought out for me. I felt that Bell had disregarded the obligation of "auld acquaintance," but said nothing.
My mount started at the heels of the cavalcade in a steady walk, but I noticed he was sure-footed, and that, at the end of two or three weary hours, he had passed most of the party and soon after was close in the wake of Colonel Scott. In the meantime, I had noticed that I was the subject of merriment. My feet were in close proximity to the ground. The length of my legs was out of proportion to that of the legs of the mule. When we came to descend the mountain, however, at an angle of nearly forty-five degrees, on a very narrow path, I found that my mule could turn the bends of the track, and, by a peculiar gathering of his feet, could slide down difficult places, while Colonel Scott, on his already jaded horse, was troubled and worried. He dismounted when the path widened and asked me to go ahead. He then followed me, leading his horse. After that, I made up my mind that my Richland county friend had not failed me in my hour of need.
As for the scenery through which we were passing, no language could describe it. We saw, four thousand feet below, a beautiful little valley about half a mile wide at the widest part, with what appeared to be a very small stream dancing along from side to side of the valley, and surrounded by precipitous mountains in every direction. The eye and mind can now vividly recall the picture of the scenes than around me. My mule had my confidence, but I feared lest some fatal mishap might befall some of my companions, and especially I feared for a lady who ventured the journey, but she fortunately displayed pluck and coolness, and at the end of the day we all arrived at the hut in the valley safe and sound, but very weary. Since that time, I understand that a good road has been made up the valley, by which tourists can enjoy the grandest scenery in nature, without the risk we took.
We enjoyed a hearty supper of plain food, and a sound sleep on corn- husk mattresses. The next day we explored the valley, and enjoyed the changing views of near and distant mountains. These have often been described, but they can only be appreciated by a personal visit. We left the valley by another route to the north, and reached the railroad by a different line of stages.
Returning to San Francisco, we took the boat for San Diego, stopping, on the way, at Santa Barbara and San Pedro. From this place we drove to Los Angeles, then a typical Mexican town of great interest. The good people hoped for the railroad, but Colonel Scott expected the road of which he was president would be able to reach San Diego.
Our arrival at San Diego was an event of interest to the few people of that town. We inspected the remarkable harbor and the surrounding country. It was apparently a good site for a great city. Fresh water was the great want and rain-falls were rare, but it was claimed that an ample supply of water could be had from the hills. The real obstacle to that site, as a terminus for the railroad, was the mountains east of San Diego, which, upon a survey, were found to be extremely difficult, and this turned the route to Los Angeles, over natural passes and through the beautiful region of San Bernardino.
We returned, by boat, to San Francisco, and soon after turned our way eastward. We stopped at Reno, and went by rail to Carson City, the capital of Nevada. It was then an embryo town. From there we went to Lake Tahoe, one of the finest bodies of water on the earth. Its clear, cold waters filled a natural basin in the midst of the Nevada range of mountains, which was supplied by the melting snows. We then returned to Carson City, ascended, by rail, an inclined plane of high grade, to Virginia City. Most of the party descended into the mines, but I was prevented from doing so by an attack of neuralgia, a complaint from which I never suffered before or since, caused, as it was said, by the high altitude and thin air. Here I met several natives of Ohio, who had sought their fortunes in the far west. They were very kind to the party and to myself. It got to be a common remark, that Ohio has everything good in the west. I could answer that they all seemed to deserve what they had. I was disposed to be proud of them and of my native state, but soon after, on the way east, we heard of an atrocious murder committed by two Ohio men. This turned the tables on my native state, and I was compelled to confess that bad men came from Ohio as well as from other states; but, if so, Ohio people excelled in the atrocity of their crimes as well as in the excellence of their merits!
Our next stopping place was at Salt Lake City. Whatever opinion we may have of the religious creed and dogmas of the Mormons, we cannot deny the industry and courage of that sect in building up a city in a wilderness where natural conditions seemed to forbid all hope of success in such an enterprise. And yet there it was, a well-ordered city laid out with squares, avenues, streets, and reservations for schools, churches and other public uses, with water introduced in great abundance. All the needs of city life were provided, such as stores, markets and shops. We were invited by the delegate to Congress, from Utah, to call on Brigham Young, and did so. He was a large, well-built man, then about sixty years old. He took great interest in the enterprise of Colonel Scott and seemed familiar with all the railways built or projected in the western country. There was nothing in his conversation or manner that indicated the "crank," nor did he exhibit any of the signs of a zealot or fanatic. He made no allusions to his creed or the habits of his followers and betrayed no egotism or pride. He has died since but the organization he left behind him is still in existence, and the Mormon faith is still the creed and guide of the great body of those who followed Brigham Young into the wilderness, and of their numerous descendants. It is to be hoped that the government and people of the United States will let the Mormons severely alone, allowing them to believe what they will, and to do in the way of worship what they choose. In this way only can their confidence in alleged revelations be shaken, and Mormonism will disappear among the many vain attempts of humanity to explore the mysteries of life and death. Persecution never weakens delusions, nor disturbs faith, however ignorant and groundless.
From Salt Lake our party went to Cheyenne and thence to Denver. This city was growing rapidly and was plainly destined to be the principal center of the mineral development of several states. I had, on a previous trip, visited the interesting region of the "Garden of the Gods," Colorado Springs and Pike's Peak. Our party left Denver for home. On the long stretch via Kansas City, St. Louis and Indianapolis we saw nothing new, as we were traveling over familiar ground. It was early in September, when corn, the great western staple, was approaching maturity, and the earth was giving forth its increase. We were crossing the largest and perhaps most fertile valley of the world. All of it had been redeemed from nature and the Indians, within one hundred years. During our trip we had passed through great cities, prosperous towns and amidst wonderful scenery. All of the route except through the Yosemite valley was passed over in a palace car. The ocean voyage was in a steamboat even more luxurious then the palace car. All this rapid development did not satisfy the desire of Colonel Scott and Mr. Walters. Their minds were occupied with vast railroad projects, some of which were accomplished before their death. I also had my dreams but they related to public policies rather than internal improvements and some of these have been realized.
I was awakened one bright morning in September and told that the car was in Ohio. This was enough to drive sleep from my eyelids. I looked out upon the rich lands of the Miami valley, the comfortable homesteads on every farm, the fat cattle and herds of sheep, the broad fields of yellow corn, and every sign of fertility. All these, and perhaps a little admixture of state pride, led me to say that, after all, the people of Ohio need not go beyond the bounds of that state with any hope to improve their condition or to secure a better opportunity for a happy life. I soon parted with my friends with sincere regrets, for in our journeyings we were in truth a happy family.