THE NEW ZEALANDER ABROAD.

Otago Witness, Issue 1854, 3 June 1887, Page 11

THE NEW ZEALANDER ABROAD.

NOTES ON A SIX MONTHS' HOLIDAY

TOUR ROUND THE WORLD.

(By W. M'H.)

No. JX.

Utah. Valley— Provo— Utah Lake — Wasatch Mountains — Price River Canon — Castle Gate— The Foothills of the Rockies— Black Canon of the, Gunnison — Marshall Pass, ll.OOOft-Salida— Leadville— The Cannibal of the Rocky Mountains — Sabbath Desecration in America.

On leaving Salt Lake City, we journey southward; passing en route several smelting furnaces busy with the abundant ores of the Rocky Mountain mining regions ; then on through fine agricultural country, watered by the river Jordan, one of the many copious streams empyting their pelucid waters into the Great Salt Lake. Presently we leave Salt Lake Valley behind and enter Utah Valley, making a short halt at Provo, the second city of Mormondom. Before us stretches a beautiful valley, fair as a picture, fertile as a garden/ having a lovely fre6h-water lake in tbe centre, the source of the river Jordan, and it is one of the natural wonders of this region that such a fresh-water gem as Utah Lake exists so close to the borders of the Great Salt Lake. The one so sparkling aud full of life and motion, the other a waveless, colourless, inert dead sea with no known outlet, and yet into whose capacious bosom constantly pours year after year (and probably has poured for . ages past) hundreds of fresh water streams without in any way increasing its volume or reducing its brackishness; truty a mysterious, unsolved problem of nature. Provo is' surrounded with fine orchards, and fruit of all sorts is plentiful and cheap. A sad-faced, apologetic-toned Mormon on the train informs us that Utah Valley contains almost as many Mormons as Salt Lake ; that he himself came out with the early pioneers 33 years ago, has one wife and 12 children, does not believe in polygamy — never did (but is evidently so well kept under by the ruling elders that he is almost afraid to express an opinion) — agrees that the great majority of Mormons would be glad if polygamy were officially renounced to-morrow, but says those in power will stick to it as long as there is a shot in the locker. Our informant, as a lad, helped his father to drag a handcart containing the family goods and chattels right away from Missouri to Utah, a trifle of 1200 or 1500 miles ! That tramp prematurely saddened him, and he has remained sad ever since, the memory of it still lingers after 33 'years, and will probably continue to stay by him for the next 333 years, unless, indeed, he is previously gathered to his forefathers and other relatives, an event not altogether improbable, as the poor fellow seemingly enjoys but indifferent health.

On leaving Provo, we turn eastward once more, and strike straight into the Wasatch Mountains through " Spanish Fork Canon," and the " Red Narrows," then climb up the " Soldier Canon" to the summit of the range, and thence along wooded heights, until late in the afternoon we descend into "Price River Canon," where we strike the trail followed by the United States troops under General Johnson, on their return home after overawing the quasirebellion among the Mormons some years ago. The scenery, hitherto commonplace, now improves with every mile traversed, the gorge becomes narrower, and the sides higher and steeper until finally, and before dashing out into the open level plain beyond, our panting engine draws up for all too brief a space beneath the shadows of the guardian rocks at

"Castle Gate," the justly celebrated entrance of the " Price River Canon." " Castle Gate "consists of too immense castellated pillars of red-coloured rock standing out from the surrounding heights, side by side, like giant sentinels, with barely room for the railway track and brawling river to run between. It is a wonderfully grand freak of nature, and is said to resemble in many respects the famous gateway to the " Garden of the Gods," Manitou Park. I alight, and with the other passengers almost succeed in dislocating my neck craning up at the pinnacled heights 500 ft above our heads. The Castle Gate township consists of one house, a small neat log cabin, nestling under the overhanging, stupendous crags, and made cheerful in its loneliness, by the sound of childish laughter and the constant patter of many little feet at play. Looking back as we leave, the high, precipitous, castellated cliffs extending from either side of the " gate " assume in the gathering twilight most fantastic shapes, and but little imagination is required to conjure up many steepled churches or cathedrals, with here and there an imposing palace, or much tnrretted baronial castle. Next morning we enter the State of Colorado,

and after passing through some fairly good country, strike the Gunnison river at Delta; following down the river past Montrose (another frontier town) we ascend the " foothills of the Rockies, and cross the " Cedar Divide," obtaining glimpses of good scenery on our way, but nothing of a very startling character. Besides the grand chain of towering mountain tops constituting the great " Continental Divide," the Rocky Mountain territory extends for hundreds of miles westward, embracing many minor ranges — "foothills," as they are called — and a large extent of level country, table lands, &c. Descending the Cedar Divide we pick up the Gunnison once more, and follow that river down one of the grandest canyons of the Rocky Mountains and one of the wildest gorges ever penetrated by the engineering skill of man; indeeed, while rushing through mile atter mile of the

mack Canon of the Gunnf son, one is lost in wonder and amazement, not so much at the work itself — you have no eyes for that — but at the originality and bold daring of the man who first proposed to lead a railway where few people would have dreamt of leading a mountain goat, and blast out a ledge along a winding chasm 2000 ft deep, and already occupied with a roaring mountain torrent. The scenery of the Black Canon cannot be portrayed in words, its sublime grandeur holds you spellbound, and inspires similar feelings to those experienced when steaming under the majestic cliffs of Milford Sound, or looking up from under the descending waters of Niagara ; here is what a railway leaflet says about it : — " Although the walls of the Black Canon of the Gunnisou are dark-hued enough to give the place its name, still they are of red sandstone in many places, and from their crevices and.on their tops shrubs, cedars, and pinous grow in rich abundance. The river has a dee"p, sea-green colour, and is followed to Cimarron creek, up which the road continues, still through rocky depths, to open country beyond. The Black Canon never tires,

never becomes commonplace. , Here a waterfall starts from a dizzy height, is dashed into fragments by lower terraces, and tossed by^ the winds, reaches the river in fine white spray; there another cataract leaps clear of the walls, and thunders unbroken on the ground beside us. In the cliffs are smaller steams, which trickle down and are lost in the river below. At times tbe canon narrows, and is full of sharp curves, but again has long, wide stretches, which enable one to study the steep crags that tower heavenward two or three thousand feet. Ourrecanti Needle, the most abrupt and isolated of these pinnacles, has all; the grace and symmetry of a Cleopatra obelisk. It is redhued from point to base, and stands like a grim sentinel, watchful of the canon's solitudes. At the junction of the Gunnison and the Oimarron a bridge spans the gorge, from which the beauties of the canon are seen at their best. Sombre shades prevail ; the streams fill the space with heavy roars, and the sunlight falls upon the topmost pines, but never reaches d own the dark red walls. Huge boulders lie scattered about, fitful winds sweep down the deep clefts, Nature has created everything on a grand scale, 'detail is supplanted by magnificence, and the place is one appealing to our- deepest feelings. It greets us as a thing of beauty, and will remain in our memory a joy forever. Long ago the Indians of the region built their council fires here. By secret paths, always guarded, they gained these fastnesses and held their grave and sober meetings. The firelight danced across their swarthy faces to the cliffs encircling them. The'red glow lit up with Rembrandt tints the massive walls, the surging streams and clinging vines. They may not have known the place had beauties, but they realised its isolation, and; fearing nothing in their safe retreat, spoke boldly of their plans."

After crossing a considerable stretch of level country we arrive, about midday, at the foot of Rocky Mountains proper, and ere long are climbing the steep height* of that

Grand Continental Divide. For some distance we follow the windings ef a small creek, and clitnb along the wooded slopes of a pleasant valley, then our steep roadway becomes steeper, and the sharp curves sharper and more serpentine; presently we halt, and our long heavy train is divided into two sections, a couple of ' additional powerful locomotives are hitched on (making four in all), and the ascent of " Marshall Pass " begins in earnest. Away down, two or three thousand feet below, a silver streak winding among the green marks the course of the stream so lately left behind, while up skyward sharp zigzag lines on the face of im-passable-looking cliffs denote our wonderful track ahead. So acute are the angles of the zigzag that the two divisions 'of the train pass and repass each other again and again, the one perhaps a hundred feet above the other, and going in exactly opposite direction. Higher, and still higher we climb, the engines groaning laboriously under the ponderous load; half way up a coupling gives way, and, -with a shriek of triumph, our leading engine bolts up the track alone, but is speedily curbed and brought back subdued and panting. Still our way is upward, and our motto •' Excelsior !" , Now winding round knobby peaks in a sort of corkscrew fashion, and anon scaling perpendicular heights, each succeeding turn|opening out a grander vista, a more extensive view, until, finally, we draw up for a brief halt under an enormous snowshed on the very summit of " Marshall Pass," IO,BSBft Above the Level of the Sea!

Alighting, we are speedily outside the shed, and what a scene is presented ! Stretched away out below out feet — for we dominate all else around-— 50 and 60 miles on either hand lie a succession of mountain tops and pinnacled summits, a sea of granite billows heaped together in wild confusion—upland slopes and undulating parks, granite heights, tall and gaunt, overlooking deep and pleasant green valleys; here a taugled forest, and there an open, grassy glade; above and around us the sun is shining brightly, while away ybnder in the distance a thunderstorm breaks on the Jweather-beaten peaks of a rival height, everywhere a boundless prospect, everywhere a glorious view of surpassing magnificence and endless variety.

Descending the eastern slopes of Marshall Pass we follow down a peculiarly narrow romantic looking glen, and halt at Salida on the banks of the Arkansas river, a turbulent mountain stream, murky with the " tailings " of a thousand mining claims above, In'croesing the Rocky Mountains it sometimes occurs, that in the higher altitudes, travellers experience more or less uncomfortable sensations, and although I do not myself notice anything unusual, tho highly rarefied atmosphere unfortunately proves fatal to a consumptive passenger patient in one of the carriages behind, who breathes his last as we glide down the mountain slopes to Salida, leaving his widow — poor disconsolate soul — to pursue her journey, both now and hereafter alone.

Salida is the junction of a branch line to Leadville, one of the magic cities of the, West, and probably one of the most rapidly built towns in the world. Only some four or five years ago the very locality of Leadrille was unknown, today it is a full blown city of some four or five thousand inhabitants, with town hall and municipal institutions, opera houses, and theatres, smelting furnaces, and throbbing workshops, everything denoting a bustling and prosperous community. As the name indicates, Leadville has been born of the mineral wealth of the Rockies, and is situated amid some of the richest finds of lead ore in the country. We had reason to know all about Leadville long before we saw the Rockies ; away back at Ogden, in the Salt Lake Valley we were joined by the "Leadville Drummers," a band of a dozen or 14 kettledrummers returning from the G.A.R. demonstration at 'Frisco, and once when we halted, these drums were aired for the delectation of the gaping crowd around the railway station. Thereafter — for half & mile roundverbal communication was entirely suspended, no human voice could make itself heard above the awful din — everthinghad to be conducted by signs, many choleric passengers went off into convulsions, while the unhappy railway officials seemed like distracted performers at a dumb pantomime! It was the first time many of us had heard the undiluted music ( !) of a drum band, and we took solemn oath together it would be the last, even if we had to strangle the performers in cold blood. " •

On alighting at Salida we find the town ringing with the story of Al Packer, the " Cannibal of the Rocky. Mountains," who passed through here yesterday on his way for trial at Denver. The story of Packer closely resembles that of the lugubrious " Mate of the Nancy, brig," the only difference— really a small one — being that while the one was a humorous fiction the other is a horrible reality. Shortly the story is this : In the fall of the year a party of five miners are prospecting away up in one of the wild canyons of the Rockies, when the winter snows come down suddenly and seal them up hermetically for three or four months. In the' spring one — Alfred Packer — walks forth alone. For a long time Packer is very reticent,

but by-and-bye, in his cups, he drop 3 remarks which engender suspicion, suspicion begets inquiry, and- inquiry research ; until finally and in the end Packer, while denying .the - crime of murder, confesses to having devoured most of his. companions. When halted here yesterday for' breakfast he was. asked what he would; have to eat, and in a spirit of brutal bravado ; replied, " Give me a couple of roasted babies." (I fancy that I subsequently saw in the papers that Packer was sentenced to seven years' imprisonment, but am not certain.) Sabbath Desecration.' , Although it is Sunday afternoon, business in Salida goes on much as usual; the shops 'are nearly all open, and blue-sbirted, guni-oooted typical diggers lounge out and in" the widely open liquor saloons. This undesirable 1 state of things is not, however, confined to; Salida, which, being but a rough, brand new mining camp in the heart of 'the! Rocky Mountains has some palliating excuses to offer, but is more or less characteristic of all the American towns, big and little. (In San Francisco, as elsewhere, all the cigar shops — and their name is legion— are open on Sunday, and most of the fancy goods,* confectioners, fruiterers, and such like drive a brisk trade during the afternoon and evening; indeed in some streets*. Sunday afternoon and evening is only distinguishable from others by the extra' number of loungers promenading the footpaths and filling the sidewalks. Baseball, the national game of the Yankee (almost identical "with " rounders "), oan only, apparently, be properly played upon a Sunday, a" great many of the principal matches being fixed for that day, and ordinary practice of the game universally indulged in, while flaming posters on every hoarding announce trotting races and baseball matches, excursions and picnics for Sunday afternoons, with comic operas, theatres, and other entertainments to' fill up the Sabbath evening. This combined with the over-reaching " smartness " of Yankee' trader, large or smail, in every branch of business seems to be the besetting sin of the American people.