After breakfast Joe Preston, a young man about twenty, who had just entered the Industrial Army, in the Transportation department, but who had a holiday also, came over and said that he had been to the precinct kitchen and had all the edibles put up for the trip and that Miss Woodberry was ready to go whenever I was. He took the motorcycle from the shed back of the house, adjusted the storage battery, and conducted the vehicle around to the front door. I entered and a minute later we were at the door of the Preston cottage, where we found the entire party, Miss Woodberry among the rest, waiting with their vehicles. The formalities of an introduction over I assisted Miss Woodberry to her place and seating myself by her side we started away, the rest of the party following.
Our destination was the lake made by damming the waters of Deer River and flowing about two hundred acres of land in the canyon where the stream emerges from the mountains. We called it Canyon Lake and laid out a park around it, which at that time was not completed, but gave promise of much beauty. It was my intention to ascend the divide south of the city, pursue the road which ran along the slope and take in the scenery which delighted the eye from that elevation. So we followed the asphalt pavement as far as it went in that direction and then rolled along the smoothly macadamized country driveway. The Co-opolitans of that day were very proud of their roads and spent much time and labor upon them. They were all wide, smooth and well shaded and accommodations for drinking both for man and beast—horses were still in use for drawing heavy burdens at that time—were provided from the big flume and the reservoirs of our system of irrigation.
The lady by my side was enthusiastic over all she saw and so bright and unaffected were her remarks and exclamations that, before we had gone very far, I began to enjoy her society. She was not a remarkably handsome person, but she had what I suppose my female acquaintances would call “style.” That, of course, was a matter of dress, all of which had its effect on me as fashion intended, but none of which I could describe. In a general way I could see that she had a jaunty hat full of bright-colored artificial flowers, a loose-fitting white waist and a gown of some blue material. Her form was tall and rather slender, her hair auburn, her features somewhat pronounced, but intellectual, her mouth indicated firmness, but was in an everlasting conspiracy with a pair of large blue eyes to express all that is bright and sunny in the feminine character.
She had one of those faces, in which no feature was above criticism, but upon which so many happy thoughts and kindly emotions were continually expressing themselves, that criticism was as soon forgotten as made, and once forgotten was never recalled. I was seized, as we walked together, with a great desire to show her novel or beautiful scenes, and to tell her what I knew. I never enjoyed anything so much as the varying expressions of her face, always intelligent, always pure, always gentle, and withal full of strong character. It was evident that she had read much, seen many places and had a clear understanding. But it was also apparent that she was in search of the pure, the beautiful, the good, and she was altogether like what she sought. One most remarkable fact about her was that although a Bostonian she did not insist that Boston should be the sole subject of conversation.
After an hour’s journey from the city, moving rapidly along the levels, swiftly down the inclines and slowly up the steep road which ascended to the divide, we reached the place which I have always considered the best from which to view Co-opolis. Here our party halted for a time, remaining in our carriages and discussing the many objects of interest. The mountains, black and threatening, looked down upon us as if with sullen displeasure, and beyond the wild wastes of treeless and houseless valleys, far to the south, rose the weird forms of the Seven Devils, presiding over a kind of a golden Hades. But it was not the mountains nor the wilderness which attracted us mostly.
Before us lay the garden of brotherly love, in whose bosom nestled the fair city of Co-opolis. That city was indeed a picture of peace and loveliness, with all its great public buildings, its wide streets, its artificial lakes and magnificent urban parks. I pointed out the buildings and parks to my lady companion and took much pleasure in giving her brief historical sketches of several of them. But even Co-opolis, with all its artificial beauty, was not the greatest object of interest. The valley itself, subjected to the most thorough cultivation to which the most approved methods could reduce it, lay before us “as fair as the garden of the gods upon the slopes of Eden.” Directing our attention to the north we saw the silvery expanse of Canyon Lake glistening in the sun. Along both the northern and southern slopes of the valley extended the finely constructed ditches and flumes conducting the waters of the lake to many different reservoirs, where they were stored and distributed when occasion demanded.
I explained, what was a fact, that the rainfall in this region had increased to such an extent since the valley became inhabited and cultivated that for two years the supply of water had been comparatively little used in irrigation. But irrigation assured us our crops and there was no danger that a drought would ever destroy them. Eighty thousand acres constituted our cultivated farm. I pointed out the apple, peach and pear orchards and vineyards and spoke of the promise these orchards and vineyards gave of a large supply of fruit in perhaps another year. I showed the corn, wheat and potato fields, the vegetable gardens and the extensive hothouses, and explained that at times three thousand members of our Industrial Army were engaged on the farm.
We could also see the numerous sheds constructed in sheltered places, for the sheep and cattle which our shepherds and herders attended on the ranges, and the large barns here and there in which the harvests were stored and kept. The fields and ranges had produced in the last two years an enormous surplus. This surplus, however, the Brotherhood in the nation had taken or it had been distributed at the instance of the Brotherhood among the new colonies which it had established throughout the state.
My companion asked me the wealth of the colony, and my answer was that its buildings could not be constructed in any competitive eastern city for less than $15,000,000.00, but that they probably cost an amount of labor estimated by our standards at $4,500,000.00. The 80,000 acres of land, to which the Association had title, were worth $50.00 per acre at least, or $4,000,000.00. The personal property, consisting of machinery, stocks of goods, sheep, cattle, horses, wagons, tricycles, bicycles, motorcycles and farm products, were worth $8,500,000.00 and the water right, irrigating ditches, electric railroads, gas and electric plants, water system for the city, heating system and public utilities which brought or could be made to bring a revenue, were produced by the labor of the Industrial Army, without an outlay of much cash, and were worth at least $5,500,000.00. All this has been created by labor in five years, and, of course, the value of the city lots is not estimated.
Yet the mere fact that 15,000 people lived on these lots was sufficient to give them an enormous value if they were to be sold for cash. Indeed, I think the lots in the city at that time wore worth $4,000,000.00 as an investment, based upon their rental values.