Two miles above this lake, the Columbia runs through a narrow, rocky channel. This place is called the Lower Dalles. The shores are strewn with immense quantities of fallen timber, among which still stand heavy and impenetrable forests. Thirty-five miles above is the Upper Dalles; the waters are crowded into a compressed channel, among hanging and slippery rocks, foaming and whirling fearfully.[48] A few miles above this place, is the head of navigation, “The Boat encampment,” where the traders leave their bateaux, in their overland journeys to Canada.[49] The country from the upper lake to this place, is a collection {237} of mountains, thickly covered with pine, and spruce, and fir trees of very large size.
Here commences the “Rocky Mountain portage,” to the navigable waters on the other side. Its track runs up a wide and cheerless valley, on the north of which, tiers of mountains rise to a great height, thickly studded with immense pines and cedars, while on the south are seen towering cliffs, partially covered with mosses and stinted pines, over which tumble, from the ices above, numerous and noisy cascades. Two days’ travel up the desolate valley, brings the traveller to “La Grande Cote,” the principal ridge. This you climb in two hours. Around the base of this ridge, the trees, pines, &c., are of enormous size; but in ascending,[50] they decrease in size, till on the summit they become little else than shrubs.
On a table land of this height, are found two lakes a few hundred yards apart; the waters of one of which flow down the valley just described, to the Columbia, and thence to the North Pacific; while those of the other, forming the Rocky Mountain River, run thence into the Athabasca, and thence through Peace River, the Great Slave Lake, {238} and McKenzie’s River, into the Northern Arctic Ocean. The scenery around these lakes is highly interesting.[51] In the north, rises Mount Browne, sixteen thousand feet, and in the south, Mount Hooker, fifteen thousand seven hundred feet above the level of the sea. In the west, descends a vast tract of secondary mountains, bare and rocky, and noisy with tumbling avalanches. In the vales are groves of the winter-loving pine. In the east roll away undulations of barren heights beyond the range of sight. It seems to be the very citadel of desolation; where the god of the north wind elaborates his icy streams, and frosts, and blasts, in every season of the year.
Frazer’s River rises between latitudes 55° and 56° north, and after a course of about one hundred and fifty miles, nearly due south, falls into the Straits de Fuca, under latitude 49° north. It is so much obstructed by rapids and falls, as to be of little value for purposes of navigation.[52] The face of the country about its mouth, and for fifty miles above, is mountainous and covered with dense forests of white pine, cedar, and other evergreen trees. The soil is an indifferent vegetable deposit six or seven inches in depth, resting on a stratum of sand or {239} coarse gravel. The whole remaining portion of the valley is said to be cut with low mountains running north-westwardly and south-eastwardly; among which are immense tracts of marshes and lakes, formed by cold torrents from the heights that encircle them. The soil not thus occupied, is too poor for successful cultivation. Mr. Macgillivray, the person in charge at Fort Alexandria, in 1827, says:[53] “All the vegetables we planted, notwithstanding the utmost care and precaution, nearly failed; and the last crop of potatoes did not yield one-fourth of the seed planted.” The timber of this region consists of all the varieties of the fir, the spruce, pine, poplar, willow, cedar, cyprus, birch and alder.
The climate is very peculiar. The spring opens about the middle of April. From this time the weather is delightful till the end of May. In June the south wind blows, and brings incessant rains. In July and August the heat is almost insupportable. In September the whole valley is enveloped in fogs so dense, that objects one hundred yards distant cannot be seen till ten o’clock in the day. In October the leaves change their colour and begin to fall. In November, the lakes, and portions of the rivers are {240} frozen. The winter months bring snow. It is seldom severely cold. The mercury in Fahrenheit’s scale sinks a few days only, as low as ten or twelve degrees below zero.
That part of Oregon bounded on the north by Shmillamen River,[54] and on the east by Oakanagan and Columbia Rivers, south by the Columbia, and west by the President’s Range, is a broken plain, partially covered with the short and bunch grasses; but so destitute of water, that a small portion only of it, can ever be depastured. The eastern and middle portions of it are destitute of timber—a mere sunburnt waste. The northern part has a few wooded hills and streams, and prairie valleys. Among the lower hills of the President’s Range, too, there are considerable pine and fir forests; and rather extensive prairies, watered by small mountain streams; but nearly all of the whole surface of this part of Oregon, is a worthless desert.
The tract bounded north by the Columbia, east by the Blue Mountains, south by the forty-second parallel of north latitude, and west by the President’s Range, is a plain of vast rolls or swells, of a light, yellowish, sandy clay, partially covered with the short and bunch grasses, mixed with the prickly {241} pear and wild wormwood. But water is so very scarce, that it can never be generally fed; unless, indeed, as some travellers, in their praises of this region, seem to suppose, the animals that usually live by eating and drinking, should be able to dispense with the latter, in a climate where nine months in the year, not a particle of rain or dew falls, to moisten a soil as dry and loose as a heap of ashes. On the banks of the Luhon, John Days, Umatalla, and Wallawalla Rivers[55]—which have an average length of thirty miles—without doubt, extensive tracts of grass may be found in the neighbourhood of water; but it is also true that not more than a fifth part of the surface within twenty-five miles of these streams, bears grass or any other vegetation.
The portion also which borders the Columbia, produces some grass. But of a strip six miles in width, and extending from the Dalles to the mouth of the Saptin, not an hundredth part bears the grasses; and the sides of the chasm of the river are so precipitous, that not a fiftieth part of this can be fed by animals which drink at that stream. In proceeding southward on the head waters of the small streams, John Days and Umatalla, the face of the plain rises gradually {242} into vast irregular swells, destitute of timber and water. On the Blue Mountains are a few pine and spruce trees of an inferior growth. On the right tower the white peaks and thickly wooded hills of the President’s Range.
The space south-east of the Blue Mountains is a barren, thirsty waste, of light, sandy, and clayey soil—strongly impregnated with nitre. A few small streams run among the sand hills; but they are so strongly impregnated with various kinds of salts, as to be unfit for use. These brooks empty themselves into the lakes, the waters of which are salter than the ocean. Near latitude 43° north, the Klamet River rises and runs westerly, through the President’s Range.[56] On these waters are a few productive valleys; westwardly from them to the Saptin the country is dry and worthless.