A correspondent of the San Francisco Alta, who has been traveling in the southwestern portion of our state, speaks very highly of its resources, and says:
    There is no portion of this coast that possesses so great and varied riches as Southern Oregon--climate, soil, timber, mineral wealth and inexhaustible water power--convenient to the coast. The climate is mild and temperate--never subjected to drought, having sufficient rain, yet rarely too much. Short crops seldom or rarely occur. The soil is very rich and fertile, yielding rich returns to the agriculturist. Rogue River Valley, in the vicinity of Jacksonville, cannot be surpassed for the culture of most varieties of grape, and for the peach no country can surpass, even if they can equal it. Wheat at this time could not be sold for twenty cents per cental. There being no demand, immense tracts were thrown open to stock or fed off in the fields. From the upper valley to the mouth of the river immense deposits of mineral crop out--copper, chrome and iron--extensive ledges of variegated marble and limestone. There are no serious hindrances to the construction of a
to Klamath Lake; but that country is in Oregon. The capability of that portion of the state, when developed, would give ten times the support to a road than is now given by the Willamette, as the latter can only furnish the agricultural products of that valley for the support of a road. Again, all the intervening country between the coast to the upper valley on the north side of the river is clothed with the most luxuriant pasturage, capable of supporting innumerable herds of sheep, the wool of which could be manufactured immediately upon the line of the road. I am informed by a reliable gentleman that there is a large deposit of coal upon a creek called Shasta Costa, one mile from the river, being six feet thick, and where pieces solid and firm, undecomposed, lie in the creek, weighing from five to ten hundred pounds, broken off of the ledge. Rogue River runs nearly a due east course from the ocean to its source, and on nearly a direct line from the coast to Jacksonville. The south side of the river is heavily timbered with yellow fir and sugar pine, the latter very abundant in the upper portions of the valley. On Galice Creek, emptying into the river miles from the coast and contiguous to the river, a fabulous
has been recently discovered, machinery for the working of which has been purchased recently in San Francisco, and by the time you receive this, will be on the ground. The river and its tributaries have yielded annually large amounts of the precious metals. I will say, before leaving this portion of the state, that did it belong to California, it would have been far in advance of what it is now; it would have been connected with the coast by a railroad; its varied resources developed, thereby opening up industries now unthought of. In passing up that river last fall, I was astonished at the number and extent of the copper and chrome ledges and mineral indications. The country south of the river becomes more rugged and mountainous. At the mouth of the river are two extensive
both having done well the past season. Of the entrance, I cannot say much in its favor. It will answer for vessels of the class required for the shipment of their fish, but can be of no importance as a lumbering port, not admitting vessels of sufficient size for that trade.
    The coast north of the river is principally adapted to sheep-raising, the grass remaining green the entire year, having sufficient sheep to consume the feed, and may be said to be overstocked. As you approach Port Orford the face of the country changes. You then enter the cedar belt, with heavy detached bodies of live oak. The creek bottoms are very rich with heavy growths of laurel (or myrtle, as it is called there); also large maple, with every variety of grain, well adapted for furniture. I should have stated that all the bottoms on Rogue River have the same varieties.
    Having read the piece published in the Alta, two years since, of "When and where shall we have a breakwater," I took a thorough look, and as far as able examined from all sides, weighed all advantages and disadvantage of the place, and will now give you in brief my views in regard to
    Of course I entered into an examination of the depth of water, etc. The place is, I will say, situated on high, dry ground; the harbor can only be seen to advantage by going out on the extreme south point of the "Heads" forming the western side of the harbor, having 20 feet elevation above the present town. From that point all the roadstead lies spread out before you, certainly presenting the most capacious and pretty roadsteads I have seen on our coast, surpassing Monterey in every respect. The "Heads" is as beautiful a piece of land as there is on the coast, surrounded with the most picturesque scenery I have met with, giving one of the finest views. A little north of west lies the vast reef of Cape Blanco, the broad channel between the cape and reef opening to its full breadth to the northwest, the lighthouse upon the cape, seven miles distant, in full view. On the east side of the harbor, distant four miles, is the beautiful sugarloaf "Humbug" Mountain, rising nearly perpendicular from the bay 1,800 feet, with Bald Mountain overlooking it 2,400 feet high. Immediately at the foot of the "Heads," or the north extreme, called "Lover's Leap," is spread out a beautiful lake, filled with trout (two of us having caught 138 in two hours), having five fathoms of water through its whole extent, with hard, firm and bold banks 25 feet above the water level of the lake and 30 above the ocean. The "Heads" are 350 feet high, perpendicular, on east, south and west; they overlook Cape Blanco, together with the extensive plateau lying between them and Coquille River.
    There is no opening through the mountains directly east, therefore no east winds, the winds being from either the north, west or south. I should think for domestic trade no breakwater would be required; but if heavy ships, loading for foreign ports, some protection would indispensable owing to the length of time required to discharge ballast and to take in cargoes. It appears to me that a harbor of refuge is absolutely necessary for the safety of vessels and the growing commerce of the coast, destitute as it is of harbors, and Port Orford, from its geographical position and its great and easy accessibility, possesses paramount claims beyond any place I have seen on the coast.
Oregonian, Portland, February 18, 1875, page 1  Reprinted from the Alta California of February 8, 1875, page 1


    Editor of the Observer--After preparing, my pony and I set out for the mines situated on Rogue River. After riding past green wheat fields, clumps of evergreen pine, and white farm houses for sixty miles, I reached the new Eldorado of the West. These mines are situated in a wild and rugged mountain range near the Pacific Ocean. The already celebrated "Yank Ledge" is seen, where Rogue River has worn a chasm five hundred feet deep through the rocks. This ledge is one hundred and thirty-eight feet wide and has been traced for twenty miles; thus making it the largest mass of gold and silver in the world. Hundreds of miners are prospecting the mountains--loud blasts can be heard, now and then, like artillery, and horsemen, foot-men and mule-men are still arriving. Far up on the mountain trails, I saw the trains of pack-mules winding through the lofty pines and gigantic cedars--the jingle of the bells on the lead mules--the shouts of the drivers sound strangely, while your correspondent sits astride of his skeleton pony. I tell you, Mr. Editor, the scene is picturesque--I may add sublime. The ore in some of the mines is filled with pyrites of iron, chloride of lead, etc., while in others the chloride of silver, ruby silver and horn silver interspersed with fine gold go towards making up the ore. Having had a great deal of experience in the quartz mines of Nevada, Utah, Montana and Idaho, I pronounce the "Yank," the McNair" and a few others to be unsurpassed. But, it takes a mint of money to work a quartz mine; "placer" claims are the only mines which are profitable for the poor man. I took no claims. I have had enough of the mines. Our winter is over, and the ice-fetters are broken in the mountain streams--the prairies are checkered with brilliant flowers and the farmers are jubilant. Far up in the gloomy canons among the whispering pines and the moaning cedars, I caught a mess of speckled trout out of a clear stream, yesterday, and I "gobbled" them down my capacious throat.
    Editor of the Observer--DEAR SIR--Rogue River Valley is forty miles long and the mean width is eight miles. It is one vast wheat field, or nearly so, being checkered with white farm houses, flourishing orchards, and ribboned like streams of great beauty and transparency. The valley is surrounded by high mountains, which are heavily timbered, except a narrow canon with almost perpendicular walls five hundred feet high, through which Rogue River runs until it embouches in the ocean. The valley is very rich, the climate mild and healthy. The mountain forests are alive with game; the deer, the antelope, the mountain sheep, the bear, the elk and the raccoon being the most prominent. Ornithology, too, is not to be overlooked here; the quail, the grouse, the pheasant, the prairie chicken and the sage hen are our birds of game. The mountain trout and salmon are the chief fish here. We have, also, a species of deer (dear) that live in the valley, but your bachelor scribbler cannot catch them.
Fayetteville Observer, Fayetteville, North Carolina, April 1, 1875, page 3


    Editors Recorder and Express:--According to promise made to you and others, I write what I know about the Pacific Coast, which is but little, as my travels have not been very extensive.
    We left Omaha May 13, and arrived at Marysville, California, May 20. We saw no country between the Missouri River and Salt Lake fit for a white man to live in, only the stations, where they sell hot coffee and even hotter beverages, and should do well, from the prices charged. Along the Humboldt River are some fertile strips of meadow, being irrigated. On the Truckee River are some nice and apparently productive little irrigated farms. We crossed the Sierras at night, and saw but little of the wild scenery. From Marysville, California, we came across by team, three hundred miles, into Red River Valley. The Sacramento Valley is a fine country; we saw an immense crop of wheat, though they complain of short crops. The uplands or plains adjoining the valley is very poor-looking land; it is sand and gravel, and may be taken under the homestead act. One hundred and forty miles from Marysville we struck the mountains, and toiled a week among their rugged recesses, before reaching this valley. These mountains are unfit for farming; they are covered with immense forests of pine, fir, and cedar; mining is being prosecuted all over them. Rogue River Valley is about 25 miles long, and from two to sixteen wide, and is very productive, producing fine crops of wheat and an abundance of all kinds of fruit; it is the first valley of any note north of the Sacramento. They call any place a valley in California where a wagon can be stopped without being scotched. The market is poor in this valley; XXXX flour sells for $1.60 per hundred pounds. There is a probability of a railroad being built to the coast, a distance of 80 miles. The people of this valley, for intelligence and hospitality, will compare favorably with any portion of the world.
    There is no government land here that a Kansas man would have. Nine-tenths of all the land, both here and in Northern California, is set up on end. It is a good place for stock. They say stock does well the year round, with little or no feed. The mountains abound with deer, elk, and bear, and the streams with fish. You can buy a twenty-five-pound fish for two bits. I think the average price for improved land in this valley is about $20 per acre. We are in sight of Mt. Pitt, covered with perpetual snow. The water here is soft, cool, and pure.
    With this imperfect sketch I will close, promising to do better in my next.
Holton Recorder and Express, Holt, Kansas, July 1, 1875, page 4


    MESSRS. EDITORS:--According to promise, I give you some notes from "North Land." We started from St. Helena May 25th, with wagon overland through Solano, Yolo, Colusa, Tehama, Shasta, and Siskiyou counties. A heavy norther commenced blowing the 26th, continued three days and shook out what grain was ripe, or at least so badly it was hardly worth cutting. At Redding we left the old stage road, crossed the Sacramento River to the east side, and traveled through a country of which we had little previous knowledge. We found no more level plains, but a succession of timbered ridges, with narrow valleys intervening, traversed throughout by mountain streams which have their sources around Lassen's Peak.
    Millville is the first village of any importance. It has a good flouring mill driven by water power, two stores, a tin shop, blacksmith shop, hotel, church (used by all denominations), a fine brick school house, with Odd Fellows' and Masons' halls upstairs. The population of this town is made up principally of stock owners, who spend the summer months in the mountains with their herds, and return in the winter for social enjoyment, and the education of their children. The narrow vales through which we passed are possessed of a productive soil, and some highly improved farms are to be seen. At the head of Oak Run, we go up, up, until an elevation of some 5,000 feet is reached, when we take a parting look at old Mt. Shasta with her everlasting snows, when we begin to descend and soon find ourselves at White's Station in Birney Valley, on the east side of the western Sierra Nevada range.
    This valley is small, but there is some very fine land, judging from the appearance of the growing crops. Barley, oats, timothy and potatoes were growing luxuriantly; but probably a month later than in the valley below. This region of country is full of interest to the "tourist" and should not be overlooked by the seekers of either pleasure or health; as it is only one day's travel (24 hours) by stage from Redding or terminus of railroad. All the streams are as clear as a dewdrop, swarming with mountain trout, those
which can be soon at the depth of ten feet as easily as one.
    Among the wonders in this neighborhood is Birney Falls, which are said to be truly beautiful. We visited the dairy ranch of Mr. J. A. Brown & Sons, who showed us a beautiful lake on their premises three-fourths of a mile long by one-fourth wide, and surrounded, except at one end, by a rim of low hills. It is fed by a huge spring which bursts up at the upper end from the bowels of the earth, and empties itself at the other end by pitching down an irregular ledge of rock, having a fall of some ten feet, and affording water power enough to run several mills. The only power used at the present time is to churn the milk from Mr. Brown's dairy. The waters of the lake are soon joined by those of Hot Creek, which takes its rise in Lassen's Peak and has a series of rapids well worth a visit. The rapid is nearly a mile long, and comes rumbling and tumbling over huge boulders at a fearful rate. Your correspondent in company with Mr. Brown climbed upon a huge rock overlooking the
we were struck with its grandeur.
    Another scene worth a visit, spoken of by Mr. Brown, was a spring that bursts out of the side of an almost precipitous cliff, affording power enough to run the largest mill. Twelve miles from here, and over a low range of mountains, is Fall River City, at the mouth of the river of that name, where it empties into Pit River. This river has its rise as the lake spoken of--bursting up from the earth beneath, some three miles west of old Fort Crook; thence, after a meandering course of some thirty miles, it empties itself over a series of rapids into Pit River. It affords an immense water power. A good, flourishing mill has been erected here. The log houses of Fort Crook are tumbling down and fast going to decay; and the only one occupied is the old "headquarters" of the little general, it being a more pretentious one--a hewn log house. There is some very good land along Fall River, and places can be bought cheap enough, and some of our many immigrants might do well to turn in this direction.
    At the head of Fall River we entered the great timber belt which stretches away west to Mount Shasta, some fifty miles by forty wide. This region is heavily timbered with yellow and sugar pine and fir, and in time will be a source from whence California will draw
    The Oregon and California Railroad survey passes through the edge of this belt.
    From Fall River to Sheep Rock, in Little Shasta Valley, a distance of sixty miles, not a human being was to be seen, save one lonely cattle herder and a dairyman on the McCloud River, who go there to herd cattle or make butter through the summer months, but return with their herds to the valleys in the fall.
    After the first day's travel, we camped on the banks of the McCloud, on a small prairie of an acre or two, all alone; nothing to be heard save the twittering of birds and the moaning of the winds in the treetops. Before the twilight had faded away we retired for the night, with Mother Earth for a bed, the broad canopy of heaven for a covering and the all-seeing eye of God to watch over us, we soon fell asleep to wake no more till morning. We rose early and traveled some fifteen miles, when we came into a large opening of several thousand acres of sand, washed down from the Butte. Mt. Shasta was now in full view, and apparently at our very feet, cold and grim, with her everlasting snows. We involuntarily draw our overcoats close about us as we gaze upon the majestic scene.
    Presently we see a cloud drifting from the southward, which seemed to be attracted towards the peak; it finally reached it and struck about two-thirds the distance above the snow line, when it seemed to part, a portion passing to the west side and the other to the east. Before passing the peak, a mighty whirlwind seemed to rift it into atoms, the fragments of which floated away to the northward, gathering reinforcements until evening, when a sudden clap of thunder announced the
    Soon after reaching the house at Sheep Rock, it began to rain, which it kept up pretty much through the night. The next morning, June 9th, the pass, through which we came the day before, was white with snow, reaching nearly down to the valley. That morning we bade the old "father of storms" adieu; crossed the Siskiyou into Oregon, down Rogue River to Ashland, one of the prettiest villages in all this country.
    Ashland Creek, a bold mountain stream fed by the everlasting snows of the Siskiyou, affords an everlasting supply of water for family use, irrigation and mill power. The place boasts of a woolen mill, flour mill, planing mill, four stores, post office, express office, livery stable, hotel, and the best of all, a good academy, which accommodates some 300 students. Many are settling here for the advantages of education. The town is incorporated, consequently every nuisance is removed and the streets kept clean and neat. Mr. A. D. Helman was the original proprietor, and deserves much credit for his efforts to prevent any spirituous liquors being sold by the drink, which he has succeeded in doing so far, there not being a saloon in the place.
Pacific Rural Press, San Francisco, July 17, 1875, page 34


    Editors Recorder and Express:--Having received some letters of inquiry about Oregon, I will answer a few of the leading questions through your paper. This is not an immigration letter; if it was I would leave a part unwritten. If any of your readers should get excited over an immigration sheet, or "Resources of Oregon," let them read a sheet of Jackson County immigration note paper, and they can see how it is.
    Harvest is just over here. The quantity of grain raised in this valley--the Umpqua--is enormous. I have seen 7,000 bushels sacked up on one farm. Hundreds of bushels of apples, plums and pears, are rotting in the orchard for want of gathering.
    All the land in Western Oregon, that is of good quality, or, in fact, that is fit to live on, is taken up and held in tracts of from 640 to several thousand acres.
    A man need not come to Oregon to farm with less than $2,000, if he expects to farm his own land, unless he would be satisfied with a farm of hills. I don’t think a man used to such farm as you have in Kansas would be satisfied with anything but the best here, which is, however, as nice and as productive as anyone could desire. The worst feature is, there is but a small amount of this nice land, as compared to the whole. As friend Parks says, there is a "large amount of vacant land waiting for settlers," and is it likely to wait, unless settled by an earthquake, as a great portion of it is too steep for a jackrabbit to feed on with safety. Immigrants are generally dissatisfied the "first year," and it is true that "after remaining a year or two, cannot be induced to leave," because they can’t get away in a majority of cases. I have seen several that would leave if the inducements were strong enough to pay their fare.
    Wool growing is carried on extensively here, many owning several thousand head of sheep and Angora goats. The mountains surrounding this valley are much lower than those of Rogue River. Sheep raising in the Rogue River mountains is a laborious business; the hills are so steep that sheep have to be tied by the tail in pairs, and hung across the mountains, so that one can graze on either side. (Allow on this for shrinkage.)
    For the benefit of those coming here, I will say that it is no great exaggeration to say that they will be requested to pay every man they see between Redding, California, and Roseburg, Oregon, four bits. There is a high standard of morality on this coast; nearly all obey Paul's injunction, to "pray without ceasing." There is one striking feature in their prayers, they all pray for the same thing, for God to damn their souls.
Holton Recorder and Express, Holt, Kansas, September 30, 1875, page 5


    The State of Oregon, which is now said to absorb the greater portion of the emigration from the states and territories bordering the Rocky Mountains, is undoubtedly less known than any portion of the United States, owing to its isolated position and the difficulty of reaching it from the East; and yet no section is so eagerly inquired for at present, not only by our own migratory class, but also by a large number of the natives of Great Britain, who have heard that it possesses a climate similar to that of England, while it produces all kinds of grain, fruit and vegetables in the most lavish profusion. The information heretofore given about the country is extremely meager in extent and poor in quality, as the writers were not acquainted with its character, and judge it from a superficial examination; hence, a false impression has been given of it in many respects. Its scenic charms have also been misrepresented or overlooked, when, in reality, it will compare with any region on this continent in all forms of beauty from the picturesqueness of sylvan vales to the sublime grandeur of towering mountain peaks clad in shrouds of eternal snow. One may behold there at a coup d'oeil tranquility and energy, action and repose, picturesqueness and ruggedness, bleak desolation and tropical luxuriance. Grandeur and expansiveness are, however, the most marked characteristics of the country, for Nature seems to have made everything there with a lavish hand. It is also one of the finest hunting and fishing regions of the world, for almost all species of game birds and fish found west of the Rocky Mountains are very numerous there; and in summer its valleys display their floral wealth, for they seem one vast flower bed in which the gaudy hues are most prominent. It is a splendid field for the naturalist and geologist; hence I may safely assert that it possesses an interest for all classes of people, from the farmer to the tourist and scientist, that cannot be surpassed by any portion of the country. Those who seek new fields for their enterprise and energy, or desire to behold scenery entirely sui generis, will find that distant commonwealth well worthy of consideration. To reach it from the East one has a choice of three routes. The first is to leave the cars at Kelton, Utah, and take the stage through the artemisid plains of Idaho, and the bunchgrass plateaus of Washington Territory; the next is to go by rail to San Francisco, thence take the steamer north; and the third is to pass through California overland by stage and rail, and enter Oregon from the south. The former is the most tedious; the next the most comfortable, and the third the most interesting, as one has an opportunity of enjoying grand old woods, towering snowy pinnacles, and wild, primeval Nature in all her most erratic moods. On my first visit to the country I chose the latter route, and on the fifth day after leaving San Francisco crossed the Siskiyou Mountains, which divide Oregon and California. On reaching the northern side of the range a magnificent panorama, formed of rugged mountains crowned by many-shaped peaks of snow, immense forests of dark green firs which stretched away to the horizon in every direction, and a rolling valley clad with coppices of foliaceous trees of warm hues, and smiling beneath the soft, yellow rays of the morning sun was spread out before me like a map, and to give animation to the scene, flocks of white, restless sheep and large herds of horses and horned cattle roamed over the plain, and numerous mining camps and cozy farm houses embowered in leafy arbors dotted the landscape in various directions. It was such a tableau as that region only can show, with many forms of beauty. I gazed long and earnestly at it and drank in its charms with an enthusiastic delight I have seldom experienced. At my suggestion the stage driver stopped a short time to let me enjoy the scenic feast of which I could not weary. The horses dashed merrily down the mountainside, and in three hours I reached my first halting place, Jacksonville, a city of about seven hundred inhabitants, and famous as being the first place outside of California in which gold was discovered. It is situated in the midst of a large mining and agricultural region, and is the entrepot for all goods passing through Southern Oregon. It has also acquired notoriety from having been the headquarters of the troops operating against the Modocs, and the first place to declare Captain Jack an outlaw. The country surrounding it is one of the most beautiful on earth, and can scarcely be excelled in fertility. The mines were formerly the principal wealth of the place, but they are now mainly confined to placer diggings, which are in the hands of Chinamen, and some quartz ledges which would pay well were the transportation of ores not so costly. This region is a perfect paradise for immigrants, provided they can bear comparative isolation for a few years, and take pleasure in the chase, natural beauty and the acquirement of competence, if not wealth, instead of the company of their fellow man. The entire area of the Rogue River Valley, which embraces several hundred thousand acres, is composed of rolling vales and oak-clad hills, which make excellent pasturage, as they are covered at all seasons with an abundance of graminaceous verdure. The rich alluvial soil of the plains produces all crops in profusion. Wheat yields from twenty to sixty bushels to the acre, according to mode of cultivation; oats, barley and rye from forty to ninety bushels; vegetables and tuberous roots grow in equal luxuriance, and fruits raised there will equal in flavor and size those of any portion of the continent. Many species of fruit are indigenous, such as the wild plum, the cherry, crab apple, grapes, strawberry, salmonberry and kindred fruits. The foothills produce the grape in lavish profusion, as the subsoil is of granite formation, and is both well watered and well drained. The fruit is also free from blight or the attack of worms, so that it can attain the fullest perfection. The experiments made have proved that these hills are equal to those of California as vineyards, and that the bouquet of the wines produced compares favorably with the best vintage of Hungary. As a locality for those desiring to engage in stock raising, farming or vine culture I know of no section of the country that offers equal facilities, for the reason that land is cheap and fertile, and that the winters are very mild, snow being a rare visitor, while the summers are genial and moderate, owing to the cool and bracing breezes which constantly sweep over the plain from the snowy mountains which environ it. Its most serious disadvantages are the lack of a ready market and facility of transportation. Whenever the latter is supplied the Rogue River Valley will prove one of the Arcadian spots of the Pacific Coast. One important advantage that it possesses for the immigrant is the liberal support given to the public schools by state and people, and considering the small number of inhabitants occupying the region, it will be found that its institutions of learning will compare quite favorably with those those of much older and more pretentious localities. The residents are largely composed of natives of the once border states, and, although many of them are imbued with rather primitive ideas of life, and are somewhat deficient in education, yet they manifest a keen interest in all pertaining to intellectual advancement. I did not encounter one man who did not have a fair general knowledge of his own country, and none that did not seem to have devoted nearly all his years to the study of politics, if I should judge from the glibness and positiveness with which all argued on political issues. I learned subsequently that this species of knowledge is readily obtained, for there is not a town of five hundred inhabitants in the state that does not boast of two weekly journals, and these are nothing if not controversial. The fact that the press is so well supported is, of itself, an indication of the interest of the people in useful information. I found the citizens of Jacksonville obliging and hospitable and willing to do all in their power to make one acquainted with the fertility and beauty of the land of their adoption. They seemed to be anxious to give every information about it; and their statements I found on investigation to be true. One thing attracted my attention, even among the rural population, where the study of aesthetics is popularly supposed to be overlooked, and that is the keen interest they manifested in any striking scenery. This attribute they receive from the beauties surrounding them, for intellect must be dull indeed that would not be impressed with the charms which Nature displays so generously in Southern Oregon. I heard much from all classes of a lake [Crater Lake] said to exist in the Cascade Mountains, which was so deep that a bullet fired from a rifle could not be seen to strike the water, and the walls around it so steep that it was impossible to reach the base. This resolved to visit, so, accompanied by four friends, I started out early one morning, and reached the foot of the mountains, distant about seventy miles, late in the evening. We provided our own larder, tents and camp equipage, as we did not expect to meet many houses on the route, and these we strapped on the back of a mule that would not permit a rider to occupy that exalted position. Our course led over the broad rolling valley until we came to the foothills of the Cascade Range, and there we encamped for the night. During our journey I noticed the almost tropical luxuriance of the flowers, and their general gaudy hue. All seemed to delight in the most striking colors; fox yellow, crimson, white and orange were the prevalent shades. The liliaceous plants are very numerous in the region; in fact, Oregon can produce a more generous display of this family than any country known to civilization, and many of them are unknown to science. A German botanist sent there by the Duke of Baden said that if his master owned such a magnificent floral bed, he would spend more money upon it than the government of the United States did for exploring all the territories. It is certainly not very pleasant to consider that the rich scientific stores of the country do not receive more attention from government or people.
    At an early hour next morning we were astir, clambering up the mountains, and having a good bridle path we found little difficulty in reaching the summit. We had to camp there that night, and despite a roaring fire we suffered much from the bitter cold, for the snow laid in heavy masses on the ground. After breakfast we went in quest of the lake and soon discovered a clue that we knew indicated its presence, in the soft pumice and scoria freely scattered about; and following a pathway of these rocks we soon found ourselves standing on the brink of a cavernous basin, whose gloomy waters made it look deeper even than it was. Gazing downwards for a few minutes causes a dizziness that the strongest nerves cannot withstand. One has to jump away rapidly to escape this dizziness, for any toying with the nerves is only increasing the danger; that is, provided one stands on the extreme edge. After observing its depth from above, we discovered a trail leading down the bluffs, which is used by deer, bears, elks and other large animals in reaching the water, and being profusely clad with scrubby pines and tough shrubs, we were enabled by their aid to descend to the base, after much stumbling, checking and slipping. Once below and we had an opportunity of experiencing to the fullest extent the rude wildness and desolate grandeur of the scene. The walls, which are formed of the plutonian, augitic basalt, hug the water so close that not a vestige of shore is seen. They average two thousand five hundred feet in altitude, and are as smooth, apparently, as if they had been planed by glaciers. The lake itself, which resembles a huge, round cauldron; has a circumference of about thirty-six miles, and a depth of nearly six hundred feet in the middle. No living object, however, is sustained in its inky waters, for not a fish, or even a fly, disturbs its droning solitude. A large island, having a diameter at the base of several hundred yards, and a height of three hundred feet, towers upward in the center, and this has a crater at the summit which is one hundred feet deep, and about twenty feet in width. The island, like the walls, is of igneous formation, and from this circumstance it is supposed that it was once an active volcanic peak which sank when the burning matter in the interior was ejected. This is a very plausible theory, as scoria, pumice and other igneous rocks, apparently as fresh as if they were thrown out only yesterday, are very abundant in the vicinity. Whatever its origin may have have been, the lake must remain an object of interest to tourists and geologists, as its scenery is entirely alone in its rugged grandeur. It is a Mecca to many families of Jacksonville in summer, as they enjoy the wildness for which it is so famed, as well as the refreshing snow-cooled breezes which sigh the picean forests at all hours. Several pretty mountain tarns, which fairly swarm with delicious trout, are convenient, and amid their charms dreamy anglers can hook pleasure and fish all day long, while the Nimrod finds an abundance. of deer, black bears, rabbits and kindred game about them, so that he can satiate himself with sport and delicate pabulum in a short time. The best period for visiting the lake is July or August, as the snow is then melted, the tall, green grass carpets the forests and furnishes a succulent dinner to the horses, and the many varieties of berries that grow at such an altitude are fully ripe. A person can extract as much health and pure pleasure from Crater Lake and its vicinity as he can from any portion of the continent, provided he loves manly sports and grand scenery. Our party remained there only one day, as we had thoroughly explored the place in that time, and were anxious to exchange the rare, chilling air of the mountains for the soft breezes of the valley. We stopped at the Rogue River Falls for an hour or two on our return, and enjoyed their picturesqueness. They leap down a height of nearly two hundred feet, and send masses of spray, tinged with the prismatic colors, soaring upward in tapering showers. We returned to Jacksonville in the evening, and there I bade adieu to my pleasant guides and took the stage for the north. I occupied a seat with the driver in order to learn the names of the most prominent scenes, for I have found, as a general rule, that those western Jehus are not only thoroughly acquainted with every landmark on their route, but are also full of pleasant anecdotes.*
    This one I found to be an exception to the rule, for my utmost endeavors could elicit only monosyllabic responses, so that I was compelled to depend on my own observation for any facts might glean.
----
*This is called Lake Majesty, Volcano Lake, and other names, so I gave it this name thinking it the most appropriate.
Forest and Stream, October 7, 1875, page 1


    ED. STATESMAN: This place with Redding, the southern terminus of the O.&C.R.R., 160 miles south of Roseburg, the southern terminus of that road, 100 miles north of it, is probably the most flourishing in Oregon. With about one hundred and fifty houses, two-thirds of which have been built within the last three years and most of them buildings such as would be considered respectable, even at the capital city of the state.
    To me, however, the reasons for this surpassing prosperity are not fully obvious when I see Jacksonville, only sixteen miles farther north and in the same valley and more convenient to the best farming portion of it, and the county seat of the county showing but few symptoms of life.
    Both places are compelled to draw their supplies of foreign commodities by freight teams from Roseburg and Redding. I can see however that Ashland has at least two important advantages over Jacksonville. The farmer is abundantly supplied with water, by a stream rushing and leaping down from the everlasting snows of the Siskiyou Range in volume sufficient at all seasons of the year to propel considerable machinery. And secondly, Ashland being situated nearer and more convenient to the lake country east, now settling up, secures the bulk of the large trade from that quarter.
    At this season of the year, a man from webfoot very soon discovers that Rogue River Valley excels in the production of peaches, grapes, quinces and melons; and I expect it will yet become apparent that this is a better apple country than the Willamette Valley, for I notice the apple makes a larger and better formed tree here than there.
    Wheat does as well here as in webfoot, but the market is not sufficient to make the raising of wheat a very important business--the demand is supplied at 60 cents per bushel--land that will produce 40 bushels per acre can be bought for $10 per acre.
    Ashland just at this time is enjoying a Klamath and Modoc invasion. They were sent in by Mr. Dyer, agent of Klamath Reservation, to carry cut wheat for the mills at that place.
    They came about 100 warriors strong, and about the same number of squaws and children mounted on nimble ponies and in wagons with a numerous train of pack animals. I enjoy the honor of making the acquaintance of a number of Klamath chiefs, among them LaLake, Blow and Allen David, high chief of all the Klamaths. I have had considerable conversation with some of these Indians--they seem to have great hopes of the future civilization of their people; pointing with an air of exultation to the many barbarous customs they have already given up, such as slavery, cremation, polygamy and spiritualism. One of the chiefs, in response to a question of mine, assured me that although in "old time" they burned the dead and preserved the ashes of relatives, and made "bondmen and bondmaids of the heathen round about," they never eat captives, but on the contrary had always believed a mouthful of human flesh would kill a man.
    I was also informed that while polygamy was in vogue, it was customary to marry sisters and that although polygamous marriages are not now allowed among the Klamaths, Allen David has two wives "taken unto him" under the old dispensation--his wives being sisters.
    I would judge from appearance that these Indians are near six feet tall and they have a bold and even impudent look and manner about them, rather disgusting to a person used to the subdued bearing and tone of the webfoot tillicum--they are talking of having a war dance, and if they do I must be there to see.
Oregon Statesman, Salem, October 23, 1875, page 1


    FRIEND VAN:--Having promised to let my friends know of my whereabouts, I take this method of letting them know.
    Started on my journey on Monday, Dec. 20th, and had a pleasant journey to Roseburg. Next morning at 4 o'clock took the hind seat in the stage, for a pleasure (?) trip southward. And now comes in the pleasure, the stage pitching from one side to the other as it passed over the awful roads, compelling the passengers to cling with might and main to the braces to keep their seats at all. After proceeding a short distance, the stage halted and the passengers were politely requested to get out and walk around the sea of mud while the stage was dragged through. Someone asked how long is this to continue, when Jehu answered "Through Umpqua." Our walk was kept up pretty much all day, the monotony of our tramp, tramp, sqush, sqush, through the deepest and blackest mud I ever went anywhere to, being varied occasionally to help Jehu right the stage, which every now and then would upset in spite of careful driving. At three o'clock the next day we arrived at Jacksonville, all safe and sound but somewhat fatigued with our stage "walk" and as muddy as can well be imagined. Finding friends in Jacksonville, we concluded to stay over one day and rest up.
is a nice little town, with warm-hearted men to manage affairs. Mr. Manning, present sheriff of Jackson County, is a warm-hearted man. The county clerk [E. D. Foudray] is also a most agreeable and pleasant gentleman. Long may they prosper.
    At the present writing we are sitting in a hotel in
a small town, containing one store, one hotel, balanced up with two grist mills. We have a pleasant stopping place, and do not know exactly when we shall resume our journey; the first opportunity that offers we shall seize upon to go forward. Four passengers inside and one out make up a full stage load, so you see the passenger that "lays over" takes desperate chances, and may not be able to resume his trip just when he would wish. After a rest of three days we are anxious to "be going," but if we make the trip in twenty days we shall considered ourself in luck. The mountains look white, and the Siskiyou rough, but today, Christmas, is a most beautiful day, with warm sunshine and a clear sky, and our landlady is busying herself fixing up a turkey, and in a half hour the writer will be flopping his lips over a nice Christmas dinner--turkey dinner.
    This is a nice country, and if it were favored with a railroad it would truly be the garden spot of Oregon. As it is, wheat commands but 55 and 60¢, as there is no market but the home market, which is limited, of course. It is truly a very fertile valley, and will one day be teeming with a busy, happy people. Then you will see a lively country even in the mud of Rogue River Valley.
    When I think of the pleasant Christmas scenes in progress at my beautiful home, Albany, and what I am missing by my absence, and the further fact that I am compelled to remain here when I would be on my journey, all for the want of the necessary conveyance, it makes me almost boil over with--lonesomeness! However, I hope to be able to get a seat in the stage this evening, and proceed on my journey east. More anon.
Albany Register, Albany, Oregon, January 7, 1876, page 3  Morris was a prominent Albany merchant.

Last revised July 2, 2025