The hydraulic press., 1860-11-24
BIoomfield correspondence.

MOUNT BONITA, Nov 20, 1860,
Now give me leave, and little space, to tell
this tale of horror!
Thursday last was day of beauty. Not a
cloud waited in the deep blue dome of space that
rested upon the circumambient hills. Stiffness,
like thing of fear, fingered in the vast forest,
far and near. But when the earth rolled up, and
broke the rays of the solar orb, casting one hem
isphere to the reign of the pale star and Somnus
care, there came a murmur from the eastern
hills. Louder and more loud it came. Dread
fully and more dreadful it shook the forest trees,
from top to root. And now to our startled sense
| came both cause and efect-an avalanche of
wind, rolling from the top Of the Sierra Nevadas
| into the vacuum, over the plains of the Sacra-
mento Valley. 1t was not an army of discon-
nected blasts, but one continuous sheet Of wind
and which, to be witnessed, was more terrible
than can be expressed.
have stood by the sea, upon shore of rock,
and heard the wind blow like demon chained,
and have seen the waves in fercest bulk, roll up,
and, as it seemed, in agones of rage crush them
selves to spray, until either hand, and far out
on the ocean, lay tossing isles of foam. Amid
this dreadful concert of the water and the wind,
a cannon's roar would have been as-gentle as an
infants voice; and yet did this avalanche of
wind outroar the roaring sea and wind combined
Yes, it was such night, that "my young remen-
brance cannot parallel fellow to it." AS the
wind swept round the northeastern crescent of the
Backbone Ridge, and across the ranch Mount
Bonita, great pines, that have braved the blasts
of hundred winters, were taken in the arms of
this aerial monster, Ike helpless babes, and hurl-
ed in mangled ruin TO the earth 1t was terrible
to hear these forest-giants groan and surge in
deadly combat with the conquering gale. But
in every hour of that long and fearful night of
storm, which by me can never be forgotten, the
hills around were made to tremble like things of
life, by the first and last mighty fall of these
tlme-scarred veteran pines. But the morning
came, and the wind -fcnd cowed before the blazing
eye of the solar-king, and crept like guilty
thing into the deep woods, and slept in silence.
Report came that the Magenta au1ne had been
blown down; but not so. 1t was the fume of
the Weaver Ditch, which passes under the
Magenta, that was carried away. The former is
wind-proof, as every one should know, else would
it have been annihiated at the celebration which
took place in fame of its completion, by the win
dy suspirations of forced breath, which were
madeto rend che vacant air, from the several
speakers on that occasion.
Nearly 1.-THE miners are at rest this week,
from the fact that the various bitches in this
region have been broken or choked up by the
falling timber, caused by this avalanche Of wind.
On Colorado Hill, and on Manzanita Hill, all the
fumes and telegraphs were razed to the ground,
and the miners in those places are busily engag-
ed swearing at this last calamity, and putting
the fumes and telegraphs up again.
Now, as you are fond Of such things, let lne
chronicle to the world offering unto the world.
A few nights ago, dear little female baby came
into it. The mother is the wife of our truly
much esteemed friend, Mr.. J. Nash, merchant of
North Bloomfield. Another event, Of like kind,
is close at hand which, after its occurrence, I
shall be explicit in noticing. These are delicate
matters, and l have no disposition to dwell upon
them. Yours, HENRY JACOB.