Free Distribution of FrÉmont's Reports—Latter Day Saints—Murder of a Prophet—Brigham Young Guides Saints to the Wilderness—The State of Deseret—California the Golden—Massacre at Mountain Meadows—Old Jacob, the Mormon Leatherstocking—Steam on the Lower Colorado—Old Jacob Finds the Crossing of the Fathers—Circumtouring the Grand Canyon—Solitudes of the Colorado—Last of the Wilderness Problems—Powell Solves it by Masterful Courage—The Iron Trail—The End and the Beginning.

The reports FrÉmont made of his several expeditions were so striking and so important that Congress ordered thousands of copies to be printed for free distribution. They formed the beginning of the long series of invaluable volumes the Government since that day has so wisely and so lavishly published. First to present drawings of new plants and fossils as well as to give accurate details of geography, they serve to mark FrÉmont as the scientific Pathfinder. Botanical specimens were classified by Torrey; paleontological by Hall, and comment on the excellence of their work is unnecessary. Altogether these expeditions of FrÉmont began a new period in Wilderness exploration—the period of scientific examination. He has been much criticised, but it was he who broke the way for the numerous Government expeditions which followed and which reflect much credit on the intelligence and generosity of Congress. Few governments have ever fostered the scientific spirit with a better grace or to so full an extent, and FrÉmont was partly responsible for this commendable attitude. Through his enthusiastic labours the Far West began to be more clearly understood than ever before. He took no pessimistic view of the resources of the Wilderness as Pike and Long had done, but was rather inclined to the other side. It seems notable that he should so commandingly have stepped into the vast field at a moment coincident with the collapse of beaver trapping as a business; an industry which, as we have seen, was responsible for the breaking of all the main trails of the Wilderness, and for searching out every important secret save that of the hidden fury of the Colorado. Not only had the beaver been practically exterminated, but the bison was on the decline.[105] Those beyond the mountains suffered nearly to the point of annihilation in the exceptionally heavy snows of the winter of 1842-43.

The Great Salt Lake, enshrined in the snowy mountains and resembling the Dead Sea of Palestine, strongly appealed to the imagination of a new sect which was to have a great effect on the Wilderness, a sect which in 1830 began its development, and notwithstanding vigorous and often bloody opposition or possibly because of it, augmented steadily its power. Those who adopted this new creed were commonly called Mormons though they designated themselves as "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints." The cult, like others which have prospered, was originated by a very poor and rather despised individual, Joseph Smith, near Palmyra, New York. By his followers, Smith was believed to possess supernatural powers as a seer and prophet. He had political ambition also, for in 1844, he "published an address to the people of the United States on the powers and policy of the general government and offered himself as a candidate for the office of President." Out of his visions and inspirations grew the now famous Book of Mormon, purporting to relate the history of the original people of the Western World, the Amerinds, or "Indians," descendants by its authority of some of those who were dispersed and lost to history by the confusion of tongues at the Tower of Babel. In Mormon belief it supplements the Holy Bible, which they hold to be the history of the Eastern World as well as the Divinely inspired Word. Thus they have the Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Book of Doctrine and Covenants and a book of guidance called Pearl of Great Price. First success was due to Sidney Rigdon.

After a number of migrations in search of the proper spot whereon to found the New Jerusalem, the Mormons were attracted by reports of the Great Salt Lake, lying in Mexican territory, and in some degree duplicating the topography of the Holy Land. Having much difficulty with their neighbours, they were desirous of isolating themselves, and to them the region of the Salt Sea of the Wilderness seemed the promised land. Their Prophet Joseph had been murdered in cold blood, June 27, 1844, in Carthage jail, whither he had been taken from his Mormon town of Nauvoo, Illinois, having there, on the advice of the Governor, surrendered himself for trial on charges preferred by his opponents. The Mormons resolved then to move bodily to the valley of the American Dead Sea, wild and forbidding though it seemed. A thousand miles of separation from their antagonists, by what was then believed to be irreclaimable desert, was a condition they desired and doubtless they believed that once established on that foreign soil behind a barrier of mountain ranges, they would there be able to develop their institutions unmolested. No mind then foresaw the rapid exploration and settlement of the Wilderness which has taken place.

Brigham Young, the new leader who succeeded Smith, was possessed of unusual executive ability and clear judgment, though with a limited school education. But no amount of book knowledge could have replaced the qualities with which he was born. Possessing such a commander; with a martyred prophet in the background; with "persecution" unlimited; the Mormons were equipped for sectarian as well as for civil progress. Add to all this the suggestion of the Holy Land found in the country of their choice, and the State of Deseret, as they wished to call it, was in a position to appeal strongly to those who were looking for salvation in some new form.[106]

It was not till July, 1847, they were able in numbers to reach the Salt Lake, and doubtless the dry, barren, region appeared discouraging. But Brigham Young, who followed a little later, had not begun this move blindly. His astute mind had shown him that irrigation by means of the mountain torrents would transform into gardens the arid plains, exactly as had been done in that dreamland of the Wilderness, the Rio Grande Valley. At first the devotees of the Mormon faith had a severe time, starvation was close to their thresholds, but perseverance, grit, and industry gradually conquered the antagonism of nature and the once forbidding valley was presently offering the Latter Day Saints abundance; Salt Lake City became a centre of order and prosperity. Other portions from this as a base were brought under cultivation and the soil was rendered prolific. It must be acknowledged that these people were Wilderness breakers of high quality. They not only broke it, but they kept it broken; and instead of the gin mill and the gambling hell, as corner stones of their progress, and as examples to the natives of white men's superiority, they planted orchards, gardens, farms, schoolhouses, and peaceful homes.[107] There is to-day, no part of the United States where human life is safer than in the land of the Mormons; no place where there is less lawlessness. A people who have accomplished so much that is good, who have endured danger, privation, and suffering, who have withstood the obloquy of more powerful sects, have in them much that is commendable; they deserve more than abuse, they deserve admiration, no matter what may have been their shortcomings in the earlier stages of their career.

The fortunes of the Mexican War, which the Mormons helped to decide for the American arms, as far as they were able, soon threw them again within the jurisdiction of the United States, and eventually, in place of their desired State of Deseret, Congress established the Territory of Utah, and made Brigham Young first governor, an appointment which should never have been made if the Mormons were as bad a people as by some was maintained. By it the Government really sanctioned the Mormon creed.

Besides the Mormons other sects pushed into the Wilderness. The Methodists and Presbyterians were early in Oregon, the first under the Lees and the second under Whitman. The Catholics also began missionary work in that quarter, and their chief worker was Father De Smet, whose name is forever welded into the history of the Wilderness, by his earnest labours for one thing, but more particularly by his careful observation and the records which he made of all he saw. He went everywhere in the northern parts of the Wilderness, always welcome, always doing good, and never in danger. More ought to be related here concerning his career, but the limits of this volume prevent.

Meanwhile the settlers in California startled the sleepy atmosphere of the old Mission rÉgime; yet the region was so inaccessible from the East that few ventured to go there. But Fortune was holding something in reserve. A blindfold was on all eyes; no one could see the future indicated by the discovery of gold near San Fernando Mission. It had been washed out as early as 1841, but only in a small way, and it was not till one day in 1849, when nuggets were found in repairing a mill race on Sutter's ranch at the mouth of the American River, that the blindfold was dropped and the people saw. In a general way this was the end of what may be termed the FrÉmont period and the beginning of another, which was to have a tremendous influence upon the destinies of the Wilderness. Emigrants crossed the oceans; they crossed the Wilderness; they came from round the globe by thousands and by thousands again, to wash from the golden soil of California their everlasting fortunes. It became a stampede.

There were two routes from the East. One, the northern, by the Oregon Trail, and the other, the southern, by way of the Santa FÉ Trail, both starting from Westport, now Kansas City. A few years before they had started from Independence, some miles farther east. The Oregon Trail was followed as far as Fort Bridger,[108] a post established by the famous trapper of that name, on Ham's Fork in Green River Valley, 1843, and also as far as the great bend of Bear River, when the immigrants made for Salt Lake and thence by way of the Humboldt to and over the Sierras; or south about on the trail of Escalante and Jedediah Smith, till it struck the old Wolfskill (Spanish) Trail, which was then followed down the west side of the Wasatch Range to the Mountain Meadows on the head of the Santa Clara, across the Beaver Dam Mountains, down the Virgin nearly to the Colorado, and then across southern California. From Santa FÉ two routes were open; one by way of the Gila and the other northward over Wolfskill's trail, the "Old Spanish Trail," to Green River at Gunnison Valley, and then across the mountains to join the other trail coming down from Salt Lake not far from the present town of Nephi. The northern route by the Humboldt was the one most travelled. The interesting incidents connected with these trails and the California gold rush would fill a volume. There were battles, scalpings, starvation, captivity, and privations of all kinds. Sometimes a whole family was destroyed at one blow, as in the case of Oatman, who had ventured on without company. He was attacked by Apaches on the Gila, the slaughter being speedy and, as the murderers thought, complete, excepting two daughters, whom they sold to the Mohaves. A son, however, recovered sufficiently to escape. One of the daughters died; the other was discovered five years later by Henry Grinell, and was bought by him from her Mohave owners and sent to her brother in Los Angeles.[109]

Another affair which stirred the outer world a few years after this, 1857, was the "Mountain Meadows Massacre." Just at this moment, owing to a quarrel between the Federal Government and Brigham Young, a small army under Colonel Albert Sydney Johnston, famous later as a Confederate leader, was sent in a half-hearted and futile way against the Mormons. This move was a great error on the part of the authorities, and it hardly appears as if they were in earnest. Either a well-equipped, powerful army should have been sent that could have reduced the Mormons if they had done anything deserving such treatment, which appears not to have been the fact, or they should have been dealt with by arbitration and argument as free-born citizens of the United States. The army operations were a ridiculous fiasco, but nevertheless gave the Mormons ground for the assertions that they were invincible. A caravan of one hundred and fifty people from the Arkansas-Missouri region was now on its way from Salt Lake to California by the southern trail. Between people from that region and the Mormons there had always been bitter feeling, and it was now aggravated by the presence of the threatening army and by contemptuous taunts which the immigrants are said to have freely spread along their route, accompanied by vile epithets. It is also said that they stole fowls and other property and abused those who remonstrated. The result was that when they reached Mountain Meadows, where they intended, as was the custom, to rest before starting on the more difficult journey beyond, they were attacked by a number of natives and Mormon fanatics. The attack was a local matter and had no authority then or afterwards from the officials of the Church. The immigrants were well armed and made a good fight, believing the attacking party to be natives all. When the Mormon participants appeared on the scene and told the Gentiles if they would lay down their arms the Mormons would guarantee safe exit from the valley, they accepted the proposition as an honourable one; they were anxious to spare their wives and children further exposure. They went forth, therefore, in confidence, but as they neared the south end of the valley the miscreants, as treacherous as the lowest savage, violated without compunction their pledge. The immigrants were coolly butchered, for they were now helpless. Only a few little children were spared, and John D. Lee, the leader of the Mormon villains, perpetrated, according to account, crimes unspeakable in connection with murder of the most cold-blooded character.

A pile of stones was reared on the spot where the bodies were buried, and as one looks down upon it to-day from the waggon-road, which runs somewhat farther up the slope than at that time, the grim spectres of Death and Dishonour appear still to hover above the scene of blood; where savages were put to shame in an exhibition of terrible depravity. A dismal pall seems to pervade the once pure valley and doubtless always will. At the north end the cutting of floods in the stream-bed has destroyed a large part of the tillable soil, and springs that once flowed abundantly have disappeared. Several houses stand there, but they have a forlorn and dilapidated appearance. The hand of Fate has laid a blight on the place, and it will yet be many a long year before that awful tragedy will not live again as the traveller passes over the fatal road. No Mormon I have ever met thought for a moment of excusing the action of the fanatics who led the massacre. On the contrary, it has always been unequivocally condemned.

Even Lee was at least ashamed of the part he played, and he tried to persuade me in 1872 that he was innocent, that he attempted to prevent the crime, and that he had wept when he found it was to be done. Yet immediately after the event he admitted to other Mormons that he had taken part. He was "cut off" from the Church and for years lived an outlawed life in the most inaccessible places, but he was caught and, in 1877, executed at the scene of his hideous deed. The massacre was most unlucky for the Mormons, as the world refused to believe that it was not secretly sanctioned. Unfortunately for the poor immigrants one man who probably could have saved them, and who certainly would have tried desperately to do it, was absent from his home at the Meadows at that time, being on his way to Salt Lake. This was Jacob Hamblin, the Leatherstocking of Utah, or "Old Jacob," as he was familiarly called when I knew him some fourteen years after the massacre. On another occasion when a fanatic, stationed on the Muddy to assist immigrants, concluded to kill a man, and said to Jacob, "This man must go up," Jacob answered, "If he does I go up first, mark that," and the man went free and never knew his danger; for it would have been a reckless nature that would have dared to oppose the wrath of Old Jacob.

Had he been at Mountain Meadows on that awful day he would have saved the immigrants or would have died with them.

Old Jacob was a remarkable character, and must hold a place in the annals of the Wilderness beside Jedediah Smith, Bridger, the Sublettes, and the rest of that gallant band. But he differed in one respect from every one of them; he sought no pecuniary gain, working for the good of his chosen people, always poor and seeming to have no ambition for riches. Honest, slow and low of speech, keen of perception, quick of action, and with admirable poise and judgment, Old Jacob was one of the heroes of the Wilderness, and one of the last of his kind. Long ago I tried to persuade him to tell me for publication the story of his life, but he then intended to write it himself. Afterwards it was brought out by the Church in the "Faith Promoting Series."[110]

In 1855 the Mormons had progressed far enough into the southern Wilderness to settle on the Santa Clara near the Virgin, and in 1861 they founded St. George, now the principal town of that wide region. They also settled at Grafton and several other places up the Virgin which winds its way through a series of bounding cliffs that rival those of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado.[111]

As yet few white men since Escalante, in 1776, had crossed the great canyon barrier of the Colorado between the mouth of the Virgin and Gunnison Valley on Green River, a distance of about six hundred miles as the river runs. Escalante had hunted out the fording-place of the Utes, some miles above the mouth of the Paria, the only place in all that stretch where fording is possible even at the lowest stage of water, which occurs in the autumn and winter. The trapper, Richard Campbell, as early as 1840, perhaps as early as 1827, knew of the Crossing of the Fathers, as it was called because of Escalante's venture, and he also knew that a trail from ZuÑi went there, but whether he had crossed is not clear. James O. Pattie had travelled along near the canyon edge for a considerable distance and finally reached Grand River, but his route is obscure, for his narrative gives few details of this important part of his remarkable journey from the mouth of the Gila to the head of the Yellowstone in 1826. When the Mormons reached southern Utah the whole length of the Green and Colorado from Green River Valley to the mouth of the Virgin was mainly unbroken Wilderness, only the extreme upper portion having been entered by trappers and the lower part, except the crossing of a few persons at the Escalante ford, was a complete blank. Ashley had made no record of what he saw in Red Canyon, and his voyage there was forgotten. Meek's trip through Lodore on the ice was likewise forgotten, and several other futile attempts to solve the mystery of the Colorado were vague memories in the minds of the trapper fraternity. Bridger and Carson had been near the upper canyons from time to time, and once Bridger attempted to explore the Green by following along the land, but soon gave it up for lack of water. He and his companions could see the river, but they could not get down to it. E. L. Berthoud, the engineer, in 1861 also made an attempt, but gave it up after one day for the same reason. There was, indeed, only one way to fathom the secrets of this river, and that was to start above with good boats and go down on the tide; but as yet no man had appeared with sufficient nerve and good judgment to make a successful attempt at it.

In 1861 Berthoud and Bridger explored a road from Denver to Salt Lake by way of Middle Park, crossing the Green near the mouth of the Uinta. This road was for the Overland Stage Company. Owing to the Civil War the project was abandoned, but a regiment of California volunteers marched this way from Salt Lake to Denver. The distance was 413 miles;[112] and there was small record of the features of the Wilderness through which the road ran. From the mouth of the Colorado at the Gulf of California up to within a short distance of Fort Yuma Lieutenant Derby, of the Topographical Engineers, made an examination in 1851, and later that same year George A. Johnson came to the mouth with supplies for Yuma, constructing there some flatboats for the purpose of transporting the cargo to the fort. The Gila at this time was the southern boundary in this quarter of the United States, but complications having arisen over an ill-defined portion of the line a new treaty was negotiated by Gadsden in 1853, by which, for a consideration of ten million dollars paid to Mexico, the boundary was placed where it is now. The mouth of the Colorado was not included, though navigation privileges were granted. The mouth of the river is of no value to Mexico and ought to be purchased by the United States, although the difficulty of navigation renders it of comparatively small importance.

In order to arrive at the Yuma post, situated at the mouth of the Gila, a steamer adapted to this kind of navigation was brought by sea from San Francisco by Turnbull. This was to ply between the fort and the Gulf at the mouth of the Colorado. She was named Uncle Sam, and it was only a few months before she struck a snag and went to the bottom. The power of the river, the immense quantity of sediment brought down and shiftingly deposited by every slack current, the earthquakes, and the fierce tidal bore, rendered navigation anything but easy. Turnbull gave up, but Johnson took the contract for transporting the fort supplies from the Gulf and soon had a new steamer in service, the General Jesup. This was followed by a second, the Colorado, one hundred and twenty feet long. Johnson became familiar with every bar and current and for years continued skilfully to operate his boats. He knew the history of that locality as perhaps no other man could know it.[113]

In 1851 Sitgreaves reconnoitred the country about on the trail of Garces, and in 1854 Whipple, also for the Government, explored along the 35th parallel. The mighty gorges carved through the great plateau prohibited north and south travel, for they were well-nigh impossible to cross except at the one or two places mentioned. A mountain range of equal length and of the greatest magnitude would not have offered so tremendous an obstacle. In 1857 E. F. Beale surveyed a waggon-road along the 35th parallel for the Government, and Johnson, in his steamer, the General Jesup, went up from Yuma early in January, 1858, to ferry Beale across on his return from California. Before meeting Beale, Johnson pushed his steamer experimentally on up the river to the head of Black Canyon, the highest point attainable by steamers under the most favourable conditions. He did this to expressly anticipate the exploration planned by Lieutenant Ives, of the Topographical Engineers, who, the month before, December, 1857, had landed at the mouth of the river with sections of a steamboat, The Explorer, built in Philadelphia, with which he intended to find the head of navigation and also map the river. Ives conducted this survey with skill and accuracy, and while Johnson's manoeuvre took from him the distinction of first ascent, nevertheless he remains the first explorer of the river in this region. He went to the foot of Black Canyon with his steamer and thence to the head of Black Canyon with a small boat. He visited the Grand Canyon at the mouth of Diamond Creek, the Havasupai Canyon, and also the Moki Towns. His report is a model of graceful diction, but many of the illustrations are preposterous. In 1866 Captain Rodgers took the steamer Esmeralda, ninety-seven feet long, drawing three and a half feet of water, up to Callville, not far below the mouth of the Virgin.

The Mormons were desirous of opening a road to communicate with the region east and south of the Colorado, especially that the "Lamanites" might be able to come from there and receive endowments in the temple of St. George according to prophecy. Brigham Young directed Jacob Hamblin to undertake this journey, and in the autumn of 1857 went with a party under the guidance of a native to the Ute Ford, or Crossing of the Fathers, where Escalante had broken the way eighty-one years before. Successfully traversing this difficult passage, possible only at a very low stage of water, he and his eleven companions reached the Moki Towns in safety. Nearly every autumn after this saw Jacob wending his way to the same region, but not always without disaster. In 1860 the party was turned back south of the river and one of their number, young Smith, killed by the Navajos. In 1862 Jacob tried another route to reach the same locality, going to the Colorado by way of the Grand Wash, south-westerly from St. George. At the river they built a boat and safely passed over. Then they went south and east below the great chasm to the San Francisco Mountains, suffering greatly for water in that arid region. Crossing the Little Colorado they finally arrived at the towns of the Mokis. But on the return Jacob followed his original route by way of the Crossing of the Fathers, and was thus the first white man to circumtour the Grand Canyon. The next year he went again by the Grand Wash trail, touched at Havasupai Canyon, and arrived once more among the friendly Mokis, three of whom had accompanied him back to Utah on the last trip. On this 1863 journey he was accompanied by Lewis Greeley, a nephew of Horace Greeley, who had come down from Salt Lake with letters from Brigham Young. It was not till six years later that a crossing was made at the mouth of the Paria, now Lee Ferry, still the chief, I might almost say, the only available crossing between Grand Wash and Gunnison Valley. Jacob Hamblin was the first to go that way. The river is deep and a raft or boat is necessary to transport goods.

In seeking a hiding-place John D. Lee found this point desirable and settled there early in 1872, building a log cabin and cultivating some ground. He began the ferry by helping several persons across the river, the first being J. H. Beadle, who had written a severe denunciation of him. Lee told me he discovered Beadle's identity, but I have forgotten exactly how. Lee called the place "Lonely Dell," and it was a name well applied, for the precipices of naked rock rose high on every side, and about a hundred miles separated the locality from Kanab, the nearest settlement of any consequence.

Though the canyons of the Colorado had now been crossed midway of the great six-hundred-mile stretch, and farther north near Green River Valley had far back in the century been penetrated to a limited extent, almost nothing was actually known about them. Even at the most favourable points approach to the brink was extremely difficult, and descent to the water generally impossible. On each side the country was for many miles forbidding wilderness, for the journeys of the trappers, where they had penetrated, had left no impression. It was as if no white man had ever looked upon it. They were thus the final great problem of the Wilderness. A stout heart was required to launch forth into their unfathomed mystery, particularly as by this time numerous tales of underground channels, fearful cataracts, and chasms impossible of passage, went the rounds of the camp-fires. For a time the Civil War withdrew attention from Western exploration, but when it was ended one of the officers, who had gone through the weary four years, and who wore in consequence an armless right sleeve, turned his attention once more to his scientific studies, and finally found himself, in 1867, exploring in the Parks of Colorado. Here he learned of the wonderful and forbidding canyons of the great river, saw some of the minor tributary gorges, and also met and employed a rare mountaineer, Jack Sumner, also a veteran of the Civil War. Sumner says he suggested to Powell the descent of the canyons. At any rate, Powell became enthused with a desire to explore this remnant of the original Wilderness, and Sumner was a more than willing companion in the scheme. Organising an expedition Powell started from Green River Station, Wyoming, in the same valley where the early trappers had so often made their rendezvous, and which had also been the resting-place for the California pioneers. He was a geologist and his experienced eye and quick judgment doubtless soon disclosed to him the probable nature of the interior of the canyons; the probability that no insurmountable obstacle existed to prevent his triumphant descent through the whole series. But while he believed the canyon mystery could be solved he went at it with no spirit of bravado. With him it was serious, scientific business, solely for the purpose of determining the geologic and geographic character of the mighty gorges in which the river lost itself. As the difference between the altitude of Green River Station and that of the mouth of the Rio Virgin was known to be some five thousand feet, there was clearly room for realisation of all the fantastic tales of the mountaineers.

On May 29, 1869, with four staunch boats built in Chicago, manned by nine men besides Powell, the party set forth on the swift current from Green River, Wyoming. They were soon deep in the fastnesses of the canyon wilderness where the plunging river roared defiance. As has before been mentioned Ashley had passed through Red Canyon, one of the first of the great gorges. Meek in winter on the ice had gone through Lodore and the gorges just below it, and a party of trappers had been wrecked in Lodore in attempting the descent. The latter made their way to Salt Lake, where they worked on the temple which the Mormons had begun. This canyon of Lodore had disaster in store for Powell too. One of the boats was wrecked, though fortunately not a man was injured; but the accident produced trouble, as Powell blamed some of the men for blundering, and they blamed him for failing to signal in time.

When they reached Wonsits Valley one of the men, Goodman, who was in the wreck, decided that he had had enough of this river and made his way across country to the Uinta Agency. The precipices soon closed in again to form the ninety-seven miles of the Canyon of Desolation,[114] immediately followed by thirty-six miles now called Gray Canyon before an opening occurred. This opening was Gunnison Valley, through which Wolfskill in 1830 had led the way, breaking the "Spanish Trail" to California. It is from this point downward for six hundred miles that no opening occurs in the cliffs that bound the river. They become higher or lower, slightly farther apart or nearer together, and there are lateral canyons and minor breaks, of course, but there is no valley along the river, and in places for miles on either side the surface of the country is only barren sandstone. The cliffs reach altitudes of three, four, and five thousand feet above the water of the river. In these great depths men are as completely shut away from the world as if they were in the very bowels of the globe.

After passing through Labyrinth and Stillwater canyons the Powell party found themselves at the mouth of Grand River, which entered the main stream in a canyon thirteen hundred feet deep, and they were at the same time in the head of another great gorge, later named Cataract Canyon. Any one who follows their trail will admit the appropriateness of this title. The length is forty-one miles, the walls reach an altitude of twenty-seven hundred feet at the highest, and in some of the bends are so straight as to give an impression of overhanging the spectator's head as he peers aloft from his boat to the sky so far above. At least that was the impression I received. The verticality of the rocks was greater to my eye here than at any other point. For some distance the declivity of the river bed is the sharpest on the whole course, and this with the narrowness of the canyon began to disturb Powell and lead him to fear that some of the stories of impassable falls might be true. Fortunately no insurmountable obstruction was encountered, and they swept triumphantly on through Narrow Canyon and Glen Canyon to the head of Marble, the real beginning of the greatest gorge of all, at the point where Jacob Hamblin crossed a month or two later in the same year, and which to-day is known as Lee Ferry.

Now there was before the party the greatest continuous chasm on the globe, Marble-Grand, almost three hundred miles in length as the river flows. Here they met with the hardest work and greatest danger. They became worn out; food grew scarce, for accidents and wetting had reduced too rapidly the original supply. Then it seemed as if they could not proceed, and the men who had been wrecked in Lodore were not reconciled. Another joined them and, discontented, the three refused to attempt a particularly bad rapid. They climbed to the plateau and were killed by the natives not far from Mount Dellenbaugh. The others, nerving themselves for a desperate struggle, passed the bad place, swept on through more, and emerged triumphant the next day, at noon, August 29, 1869, at the mouth of the Grand Wash, and the end of the Grand Canyon. The victory was won—the last problem of the Wilderness was broken!

From this point down the river was known. Jacob Hamblin with several others had passed from here by boat to Callville, and thence to the sea Ives had explored as already noted.

It was a dramatic triumph over the angry and rock-walled stream which for three hundred and twenty-nine years, since the Spanish captain, Cardenas, first looked into the deeps of the Grand Canyon, had defied mankind. Powell and his men were nearly exhausted by starvation-diet and exposure, but the exhilaration of success sustained them, and help was near. Brigham Young, hearing rumours of disaster to the expedition, had sent instructions to some Mormons at the mouth of the Virgin to keep a sharp watch for wreckage and to render any assistance possible, and also for extra food to be taken there. The day after emerging from the great gorge they came to these men, Asa and his two sons, and enjoyed abundance of food and the sight once more of friendly faces from the outer world. The following day Bishop Leithead and two or three other Mormons arrived in a waggon with more supplies, including some fine melons, and the explorers were treated with every kindness.

Powell left the river here, but Jack Sumner and the others, except Walter Powell, went on down by river to Yuma where Sumner and Andrew Hall wintered, going the next year to the Gulf, the first and, so far as I have heard, the only human beings ever to accomplish the entire voyage from Green River Valley to tidewater. Sumner was a born trapper, hunter, and prospector, and at last accounts was still roaming the mountains engaged in these pursuits, another of those extraordinary characters that belong to the original Wilderness and will never live again. He knew Bridger, Baker, Carson, and others intimately and had met FrÉmont and Bonneville.[115]

When Powell, with his brother Walter, arrived at St. George he went immediately to the post-office eager to get the mail he had directed to be sent to this point.

"By whose authority," indignantly exclaimed the postmaster, "do you come here asking for Major Powell's mail—Major Powell is dead."

"By the best authority in the world," returned the Major. "I am Major Powell."

"But Major Powell is dead," reiterated the official. Something then about the ragged, haggard man shook his confidence. He said: "What evidence have you?"

"This," replied the Major, holding up the empty sleeve. "I left this arm at Shiloh." He got the mail.

Powell would hardly have been able so speedily and successfully to accomplish this feat had it not been for an event which was contemporaneous,—the construction of a transcontinental railway. This enabled him easily to place strong boats and supplies on the banks of Green River. His great voyage, which marks the end of the Wilderness, and the completion of the railway, marking the beginning of an entirely new epoch, occurred the same year. The rivers of the Wilderness were not available for practical transportation. Those east of the Backbone were circuitous and for the most part too shallow for boats of much draft; those west were torrential. Hence the necessity of the Iron Trail. In the search for the best route for such a trail to bind the Hudson to the Golden Gate a great many admirable surveys were made. Every one of the expeditions was profoundly interesting and intimately connected with Wilderness breaking, but it is not practicable here to describe them.

The route finally selected was up the Platte, across Green River Valley, to Salt Lake, down the Humboldt, and over the Sierra Nevada to Sacramento and San Francisco. The idea of putting a railway through the Wilderness was early conceived, but owing to numerous obstacles and difficulties as to route to be followed and as to finances, although the numerous surveys were made, nothing definite was done. As far back as 1850 Senator Benton, of Missouri, introduced a bill authorising portions of road to be constructed with gaps where it was supposed a line was not possible. In 1853 Congress appropriated $150,000 for six surveys to be executed by the War Department. The next year $190,000 more were appropriated for three additional surveys. It is thus apparent that Congress appreciated the importance of a line through the Wilderness which should bring the Pacific Coast with its now rapidly developing interests closer to the seat of Government. In the dissension which began to rend the country concerning the slavery question and State rights, there was danger of secession in that direction as well as at the South. The military importance of such a railway was beyond discussion. General Sherman, who knew the conditions thoroughly and had gone in 1846 to California, declared the Government could well afford to build the whole line and would make money by the operation, as it was indispensable for the transportation of troops and supplies.

In July, 1862, Congress, though burdened with the terrific war problem, passed the Pacific Railway Bill authorising the construction of a continuous line from the Missouri River to the Pacific Ocean. Two private companies were then formed to build this line—the Union Pacific for the eastern part and the Central Pacific for the western. These companies were to receive Government aid as follows: 1. A free right of way 400 feet wide. 2. An issue of Government bonds amounting to one half the cost of the road. 3. An absolute gift of ten alternate sections of land per mile (12,800 acres) on each side of the line. 4. Privilege of using coal, iron, etc., from the region through which building operations extended. 5. To receive on completion of continuous sections of 20 miles the bonds of the United States as follows: A. Between the Missouri River and eastern base of mountains, about 650 miles, $16,000 a mile. B. Across the Rocky Mountains, 150 miles, $48,000 a mile. C. Across the Great Basin, $32,000 a mile. D. Across the Sierra Nevada, 150 miles, $48,000 a mile. E. To San Francisco, about 120 miles, $16,000 a mile.

The Government also obliged itself to extinguish the title of Amerinds to all lands donated. The State of California assumed the interest for twenty years on $1,500,000 of the Central Pacific bonds, assistance estimated as the equivalent of $3,000,000 in gold. San Francisco gave $400,000 and Sacramento donated 30 acres of land. The aggregate of land given to the two companies was ten million acres. Thus it seems that the Government practically paid for the whole line. It would have been better if it had built the road without the intervention of the companies. About two miles a day was made in track building, then considered rapid work. The chief contractor was J. S. Casement, and William Dodge was chief engineer. The workmen lived in trains which were pushed ahead as fast as the road advanced and were supplied with plenty of rifles and ammunition for protection against the Sioux and other roaming tribes. These hovered about like vultures, choosing opportune moments for attack. The assistant engineer, P. T. Browne, with his party, was fired on sixty miles west of North Platte. They fought for about two hours against seventy-five natives. Browne was killed.

Sometimes the Amerinds destroyed the track, captured trains, killed engineers, firemen, brakemen, and telegraph linemen. They also would destroy the telegraph line and carry off the wire. In fact, they were a constant terror and menace. But when denouncing them nobody remembers the swindles perpetrated on them in former years, nor the bad whiskey which impoverished them and brutalised them and won their furs for a bagatelle. Their attitude was largely the result of the earlier treatment they had received from the whites, as well as of all the bad white blood which had been infused into the tribes. One of the worst affairs was the Plum Creek massacre. William Thompson, an Englishman, a telegraph man, was sent out with a party of five to hunt up a break. They started about nine o'clock one evening and when they reached the place a pile of ties was discovered on the track for the purpose of wrecking a supply train nearly due. Barely had this discovery been made when Thompson and his men were attacked by the enemy. They fired back and then ran. One of the natives on a horse pursued Thompson, shot him through the arm, and then knocked him down with a clubbed rifle. Next he stabbed him in the neck to finish him, and immediately began the operation of removing Thompson's scalp. As Thompson was far from dead the prospect was not agreeable, but a movement would have brought death. His only chance was to keep quiet and let the work go on, and he was able to do this notwithstanding the pain. But when the scalp was jerked loose he thought his whole head was off, and then felt as if a red-hot iron had been passed over his crown.

The native tucked the scalp in his belt and mounting rode hastily away, but in doing so dropped the scalp and its owner picked it up. Thompson was obliged to remain quiet while the band piled more ties on the track. Presently he heard the distant rumble of the train. It was impossible to do anything to prevent the wreck. In a few moments the cars were piled in a heap. The engineer and fireman were shot and scalped; the train was ransacked by the light of a huge fire. A barrel of whiskey was opened and all got drunk. When daybreak came they set the whole wreck on fire and gleefully danced around it. When they were finally gone from the scene Thompson crawled away and at length reached Willow Island station, where a rescuing party found him. People came from all around to see his ghastly baldness. He was taken to a hotel where a doctor dressed his wound. "In a pail of water was his scalp, about nine inches in length and four in width, somewhat resembling a drowned rat as it floated curled up on the water." Such were the incidents due to the wild tribes which constantly harassed the builders of this iron trail.

But these savages were little worse than those who composed a large part of the population of each terminus. They had different methods, that was all. Whiskey flowed free and drunkenness was, as usual with our European race, the great recreation. Gambling dives and grog shops made up a large part of the mushroom town that grew up at each official end of the track. All manner of people, like birds of prey, flocked to these places to secure a share of the money paid to the workers, who were numbered by thousands. Some buildings were fairly substantial, but there were many that were merely board sides with a canvas roof. Others were "dugouts," that is, holes in the ground roofed over with sticks and earth; in a side hill if possible. There were large numbers of tents. Where there were vertical clay banks along a dry water course, or a stream, these were burrowed into near the top, a square chamber being made seven or eight feet long, five or six high, and four or five deep, the outer side being closed by a blanket or canvas hung from the upper edge. Rents were high and any shelter at all was valuable.

From time to time, as progress of the line demanded, the official terminus was moved on. From Grand Island it jumped to North Platte, then to Julesburg, then to Cheyenne, and so on, in some cases leaving a permanent town of considerable proportions behind. In the case of Cheyenne a city of five thousand sprang out of nothing, and there were three newspapers; but in some instances the advance left behind only a wreck looking as if a tornado had swept that way. Remnants of old clothes, boards, straw, broken furniture, thousands of tin cans, empty bottles, etc., strewed the ground in all directions. At Green River a number of adobe houses were built, the ruins of which were still standing at the time of my first visit to that locality in 1871. Even two or three miles up the track I found dugouts and a large amount of wreckage to remind one of the late "prosperity." The life at these places had all the most vicious qualities of our civilization, and few of its good ones. There were no policemen, and the state of disorder may be imagined. It was a feverish nightmare of horrors, in striking contrast to the sobriety of the life the Mormons brought to the Wilderness.

Three years after the beginning of the great work, which it was thought would require ten, the day came when the ceremony was to be performed that should complete the engineering triumph. On May 10, 1869, two engines at Promontory Point, Utah, were brought head to head, a half-world at each back, as Bret Harte said, only a small space intervening, where the crowd gathered to witness the driving of the last spike which should bring far seas together and mark an end and a beginning. There was a prayer by the Reverend Doctor Todd. The last tie, of California laurel, beautifully polished and bearing on one side a silver plate with names of officers engraved upon it, was then laid. Two rails were next placed opposite each other, one for the Union, the other for the Central Pacific. Following this was a presentation of spikes on the part of California, Nevada, and Arizona. Governor Stanford responded for the Central Pacific, and General Dodge for the Union Pacific. With a silver hammer for driving the last spike, presented by the Union Express Company, Governor Stanford stood on the south rail, while Dr. Durant, to drive another, stood on the north one. At a signal that the telegraph was ready these spikes were driven, the last one, the golden spike of the Central Pacific, being connected with the telegraph so that the strokes of Stanford's hammer were repeated all over the country, and at the final blow "done" was sent to the waiting world. The crowd cheered; Dr. Durant and Governor Stanford shook hands. Telegrams of congratulation were received. General Dodge, the engineer in chief, and Jack and Dan Casement, the chief contractors, were the heroes of the hour. The work was finished.

The operation of building this line partly belongs to the romantic period of Breaking the Wilderness, but when that last spike of gold was sent home and the engines met upon the rails a new and different epoch began. Scarcely less fascinating, up to this moment, have been its events, but this volume is not for them. The trail of the iron horse, which would annihilate the vast distances of the Wilderness, where the life blood of so many had softened the way, was an accomplished fact. The new era was at hand. Europe and Cathay stood at last face to face, in the midst of that once "northern mystery" which was the dream of the gold-hunting conquistadore. The Seven Cities of Cibola had long ago vanished, but the rich cities of the Republic were building in their place, and wealth beyond the wildest imagination of the early adventurers was now to flow from every corner of the broken Wilderness.