The captain’s purpose was to select a suitable site for a camp which would in all probability be more permanent than we had yet made. He was quite familiar with Deer Valley, as I have already stated, and had in mind a location which on other occasions he had marked as an excellent place in which to build a city. In a short time we arrived at this place and commenced an examination of the surroundings. We all readily agreed that the captain’s judgment was good and, after viewing the land from many points, unanimously decided to recommend it to our company as a proper place to establish our camp.
We were about four miles from Snake river. The valley at this point was somewhat over five miles wide, walled in by table lands on either side. These table lands were high elevations with level summits covering many square miles of fertile but dry lands. They sloped from the summits through a succession of three shelves, each quite level, down toward the valley, and thence the valley inclined gently toward the river bed. The stream itself flowed at the bottom of a deep gully and its banks were prettily fringed with box elder trees. The table lands, their sloping sides, the shelves and the broad area of the valley down to the fringe of box elder trees, presented at this season of the year a beautiful sight.
All was dressed in the verdure of the rich grasses which make the highlands and lowlands of Idaho famous as the grazing grounds of those great herds of cattle which abundantly assist in feeding the world. There were a few trees in places on the slopes of the highlands, and a hillock which was proposed as the location of our camp, contained quite a grove. But except for these, and the fringe of box elders along the river bank, the entire area was quite open. The stream at this time came tumbling down the valley at a furious rate, the incline being quite pronounced. Looking up the valley we saw the giant mountains on whose majestic tops the snow remained unmelted, and whose lower sides were black with the foliage of the forest of yellow pine.
We found here a rancher who claimed to be the owner of some three hundred and twenty acres of land which he had attempted to reclaim by means of a rather crude irrigating ditch which conducted the water of the stream from a point above to a portion of his ground. He claimed also to have washed some gold from the sand taken from the bed of the creek. The man had lived in the valley for ten years, but was evidently neither a man of enterprise nor much intelligence. He had once possessed a considerable herd, but had lost it at the gaming table in some of the camps, and was poor and anxious to get away into the “diggings” up in the mountains. He was able to give some information of value to us, and offered to sell us the ranch and about a hundred acres of land which he held under the placer mining laws of the United States, for two dollars an acre.
We were occupied in making these observations when, about two hours after our arrival, the wagons and their escort reached a point on the road near the house (it was scarcely more than a hut) of the old rancher. The captain and myself immediately rode over and directions were given to proceed to the hillock, where the grove of young trees already mentioned offered an inviting shelter, and go into camp. Accordingly the entire company went thither, the teams were unharnessed, the horses were picketed, some tents were pitched and the men were soon to be seen engaged in conversation in little groups, some standing on elevations which offered a commanding view, others moving to various parts of the valley, and others still, lying down and making observations while they rested. The farmers were particularly industrious, looking over old Hacket’s ranch.
As the afternoon of this memorable first day wore to its close the men all returned to camp, where those to whom the duty of preparing meals had been assigned had prepared a feast somewhat more elaborate than usual, and one of them reminded us that this was the first feast on the site of our new town and that the anniversary of this day would hereafter be a feast day for years to come. The prophecy was hailed with approval and the evening was given up to feasting and speaking, just as has been customary on this anniversary ever since.
After the meal was finished we gathered together under one of the largest trees in the grove and called upon those who were known to be speakers to address us. Among others the company called on me and I proposed that, as we were to have a city, whether it be established on the spot or in some other place, and as our city must have a name, that we proceed to give it a name forthwith. To this one of the company, Albert Ortz, a German, objected, for the reason that our sheep and cattle men, as well as four of our commoners, being in charge of the herds which had not yet arrived, ought to be allowed to take part. To this I replied that our action would not be binding, if we selected a name, and we could regard the selection now as merely informal. This was satisfactory and Ortz withdrew his objection. I then called for names to be voted on. Three only were submitted. Alpha, because it was the first of its kind; Co-opolis, the city of co-operators, and Omega, which Dr. Pinder proposed, because, he said rather facetiously, our co-operative city was about the last hope which labor had left for justice in this world. The vote was then taken and resulted in a large majority for Co-opolis. It is as well to say here that afterward our absent members voted unanimously to approve this name, and the city was so christened.
While this was going on the captain had said nothing and, I observed, did not even vote. He had been sitting somewhat apart from the rest of the company with a half-pleased but yet serious look upon his face. I had come to understand him very well, and knew that he felt grave apprehensions for the success of this movement, and now I made no doubt that he was feeling the responsibility which rested upon each member of the colony.
“Brothers,” said I, “I notice that our captain is serious when he should be gay. I, for one, vote that the captain give an account of himself.”
Everybody called for the captain.