Midnight found us still employed, but we reluctantly ceased our labors and withdrew. Without unnecessary ceremony we wrapped our blankets about us, laid down beneath the stars, and slept the sleep of the just until 3 o'clock, when the dulcet notes of a coyote called us to the business of the day. Preparations were quickly made for the journey, and at daylight we were on our way to Grant's Pass, where we arrived at 9 o'clock P.M.
OUR MOUNTAINS IN WAR.
It is a curious fact that the home of Liberty has always been in the mountains. The reason for this is, that Nature intervenes every barrier to prevent conquests, and shields the native mountaineer from onslaughts of a foreign foe. The ringing words, "Make way for Liberty," could never have become immortal had it not been for a mountain pass. The memory of William Tell would not now be cherished by liberty-loving Swiss, were it not for the friendly crags of the Alps that sheltered him. Here in the Northwest we are blessed with a wonderful mountain range, extending from California through Oregon and Washington to British Columbia.
For beauty, grandeur and extent it has no superior; while as a field of defense, it simply stands unparalleled, and is rich in minerals, agriculture and commerce. Located at from forty to a hundred miles apart are the following mountain peaks, covered with perpetual snow: Baker, Rainier, Adams, St. Helens, Hood, Jefferson, Three Sisters, Pitt and Shasta. From each of these, convenient points of prominence are visible in the Coast Range, one or more of which in turn are visible from every harbor and city as far south as San Francisco. In case of a foreign war it is one of the possibilities of the Oregon Alpine Club to organize a sort of Signal Corps, say five hundred men, each of whom would be thoroughly familiar with every pass, crevasse and crag in the mountains where detailed for service. With a liberal supply of provisions and ammunition on each peak, scarcely anything short of a pestilence could dislodge them. What could a foreign army do around Mt. Hood, for instance, with fifty resolute men well armed and equipped on the summit.
It has been but a few years since the entire force of the United States Army was successfully defied by Captain Jack and a dozen Indians in the Lava Beds; and yet we have here every advantage of the Lava Beds, to which is added precipices to the north, east and west, while to the south a narrow passage would permit men to ascend, but it is necessary to cut every step in the ice; while directly across the base of this precipitous glacier, a crevasse extends, of unknown depth, which varies in width from three to forty feet, according to the season. It is needless to say that every wounded member of the assaulting party would pay the penalty with his life, for the slightest misstep would hurl him into the crevasse where "moth doth not corrupt and where thieves do not break through and steal." Now for the point of this article. Give to the corps a liberal supply of heliographs and instruct the men how to use them. In this way a perfect system of communication can be established by which messages can be sent from point to point in an instant. Say, for instance, that a hostile fleet was lying at Victoria and a descent on San Francisco was planned. From a spy within the enemy's lines, the party on Mt. Baker gathers full particulars, and immediately informs San Francisco of the contemplated attack, giving full particulars, including number of ships, men and guns.
NIGHT ON THE SUMMIT OF MOUNT RAINIER.
Monday, August 14, 1889, Mr. J. Nichols, of Tacoma, and the writer, left Tacoma for Mt. Rainier, determined, if possible, to reach its highest point.
The provisions, blankets, alpine stocks (a hickory staff seven feet long with a steel point at one end), alpine ax and all that was necessary in making the ascent easy, were taken from Tacoma, while pack horses were procured at Yelm, a station twenty-five miles south of Tacoma, and from which the trail leads eastwardly to Mount Rainier. It first follows river bottoms, then mountains, ridges and river bottoms again, while an occasional fording of the glacial stream, lends interest to the ever-changing scenes. We aimed at the end of each day to camp where feed could be obtained for hard working horses. Darkness coming on as we reached the first ford, left in some doubt the exact location of the crossing, so camp was made on the bank of the river with nothing but oats for our tired horses. Daylight found us fording the river, which had risen during the night about ten inches, making it quite exciting as the foaming water splashed the horses' sides, and wet our feet and ankles.