Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1858-06-05
BRATTLEBORO, W.: JUNE $, 1858.


quarter on account of the pretended depth O
the SHOWS in the mountains, have been proved
by this winters experience, to be wholly ground
less. At no time has the snow offered muci
impeachment to communication with the States
and at no time has it been at this, the highest
point of the route, over six inches deep The
fact is, the winters here are within the innucnc,
of the warming breath of the great Pacific. and
they are even milder, though at a height of 1000
feet above the sea, than they usually are in New
; England and New York.
From Laramie we began gradually to enter
among hils and mountains, and into region
still more barren and desolate than any which
we had yet seen. The shingly beds of many
desiccated torrents showed that the waters had
made haste to leave country so drv and arid.
Our route still lay up the North Platte which
now began to be elbowed from its course occa
sionally by the jutting hills over which we had
to pass. AT the distance of about one hundred
and fifty miles from Fort Laramie we came to
" The BTdgc," so called from its being the only
bridge any where in the country, and in the
| building of which some one has done better than
he would have done by continuing on to dip for
gold in California. There is coal mine near
it from which we replenished our forges. Con-
tnuing on some miles farther we forded the riy-
er which was then low, and at the distance of
fifteen miles from 1.-The Bridge" reached the
Red Buttes, our last point on the Platte
From there We passed over by n two or three
days march to the Sweet Water, one of its trib-
utaries. The intervening country is hhv, and
would present many difficulties in the way of
railroad.
Our route now lay up the Sweet Water,
stream little larger than Broad Brook, and
among mountains that might, indeed, well be
called Hochy mountains. They consisted of
naked masses of granite, and in some cases were
IKE immensely huge boulders. manv million of
times larger than those on Buck Hill or the one
back of the Church. There is no sign of cata-
clysm from the northwest ever having swept
over their submits, unless, indeed, it washed
them clean and buried their rubbish amidst the
sea OF sand from which they abruptly rise as if
from water But against this theory shattered
slabs still lie in undisturbed repose upon their
slopes a few stunted trees grow upon some
OF them and here and there, among the assures.
are scanty tufts of grass, hardly enough to in
vlte even the mountain sheep.
The Devils Gate" is an opening in one of
these granite hills through which the Sweet
Water flows. 1t is about as wide as the stream
and hundred feet or more in depth-as re-
markable channel for a river as is anywhere
found on the globe 1t would almost seem that
the stream had cut its way through the hard
compact granite, were it not for the countless
ages OF time which such an operation would rem
der necessary. II is not impossible that the pas
sage may have been once occupied by a vein of
hornblende or some softer material than granite
which the water may have worn away in COM
paratively short period of time but the chan
nels OF rivers, however, every where, appear to
be the work of design rather than the chance
eXcavating made by waters while seeking their
level in the sea. But still, there seems to be a
greater aspect of age in these hills than have
noticed elsewhere in any region of the globe to
which my travels have extended Those hoar
SUBMITS of granite look as if they had been
made bald pated by the passage of an eternity
of Years
The ground thus far from Fort Kenrny had
hffa BlftlT shriaec OF tnG Sv, Ike ,.u ;'ano;
mingling with the clay of the road, rendered the
rlts and clods as hard as if they had been fro
zen. Just before reaching the Sweet Water it
became more abundant than ever. so that the
bottoms of desiccated lakes were filed with large
clots of it, as if the lakes had been huge potash
kettles filed with lie and boiled down. Thou
sands of tons of the pure article could be shov-
elled out Of them.
At length, at the distance of about three hun
dred miles from Laramie and while still follow
ing up the Sweet Water, we entered among the
bogs from which oozcd some of the remotest
head waters of the Mississippi and not long
afterwards we stood at the very summit of the
South Pass. On our right arose the peaks of
Wind River Mountains, all white with snow,
and from whose ianks there issued waters which
found their way, some into the Gulf of Mexico,
some into the Northern Pacific through the Riv-
er Columbia. and some into the Gulf of Cali
tornia. Like white surpliced priests those snowy
submits stood, solemnly invoking Heaven for
the waters to irrigatc continent and the winds,
as if in answer to their PRAYER, are ever weeping
around their heights and bringing vapors from
the distant sea- 1t was grand and solemn sem
timent inspired by this near approach to one of
the great operations of Nature-to be so near
the point whence she sent forth the Missouri
towards the East; the Columbia towards the
West and the Colorado far to the South West.
We were now at point considerably more
than mile $500 feet) above the level of the
sea, and yet so imperceptible and so gradual
had our ascent been from the Missouri that no
one, from the mere observation of the eyes,
would have supposed that We had attained any
considerable elevation. A few hundred down
ward PAGES brought us through corner of Ore
gon into Utah Territory and also to the bogs
from which issue the Pacific Spring whose wa
ters flow off to the South West.
The range of Wind River Mountains at this
point runs nearly east and west and at the dis
tance of about one hundred and fifty miles south
of it appeared another snow covered chain run
ming parallel to it, called the Uintah Mountains.
Between these ranges lies dreary, barren coun-
try, covered with wild sage bushes and deeply
channeled by numerous streams, that, flowing
from the melting SHOWS of the mountains, run
through Green River into the Colorado.
1t is between these two chains of mountains
running east and west-a broad magnificent
road-way-that the railroad is to pass. The
roar of the passing trains will strike in unison
with the murmurs of these mountain streams as
they set out on their journey for the distant sea,
and while music is now falling in lone yet pleas
ant night intonations upon my ear. How grand
sight will it not be-how ennobling a COM
parison of mans powers with those of Nature
when the Iron HORSE from the Atlantic shall
first leap the barriers of the Rocky Mountains
and bring up upon the borders of the Pacific
Think of locomotive roaring through these
mountain passes together with winters mid
night storm which would excite most the su-
perstitious awe and reverence of the Indian in
his vale insheltered lodgeP
1t is from point near the Uintah Mountains
that now address you about four hundred
! Nil f.o,,, I &c