The semi-weekly miner. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1882-1886, 1884-09-06
ROMANTIC

70 Bfeter Root Valley via. Rock
0eakTfail..0raud ana Beau
tiful 5cenery.-Travelers
Lost ana Found.
There IL much to admire while
travelling over the mountains, down
the ravines, and through the canyons
Of our Territory. To q poetic mind
1t affords . joy and inspiration that
will outweigh q purse of gold. In
gazing on natures deft and
dainty handiwork, our ideals of
beauty heighten; and our love for the
symmetrical and beautiful increase
and enlarge at every step. for we fad
ourselvesin pensive communion with
trailing vines, tender flowers and
trees Of q princely cast, and We r so
distracted from the world that we
are living with poets in,a land where
they delight in reveling with weird
spectres and golden dreams.
A journey to the Bitter Root val
ley, by way of the Rock Greek trail,
Is like a poem full of pathos, romance
and novelty, but the music Of this
poem can never be sung, for it must
have all the melancholy tones of the
minor and all the feet and vivacious
tones of the major. Should it be
played on the harp, there must be a
%quivering of the strings similar to
those required in Mozalt's requiem
for the dead, and then there must be
a trilling of lutte and harp similar to
the thrilling notes Of angels over the
stream of death. Without these ex-
quisitely rendered, the music of this
poem could never be performed.
But it is not wholly and exclusively
one of melancholy tones. 1t has
some beautiful and. cheerful notes
mingled with it and the whole COM
bined would make a splendid Orato,io
fit only for some grand orchestra.
Over this trail there is such q diver
sity of scenery, varying and chang
ing like those of the kaleidoscope.
Now you r fording streams SEEM
ingly of crystal, then trailing over a
carpet of emerald enameled with
flowers and vines, now in bush and
thicket which partially eclipsed the
splendor of the midday sun, then
swooning away into . state of moth
lngness as you behold q limpid
stream rolling on like a tortuous line
of shimmering silver amid the grassy
beds of q narrow vale between the
cold and rugged peaks Of two lofty
mountains. Standing amid these
variegated scenes and colossal won
ders of natures grand cathedral, one
is profoundly impressed with ma
lures multlfarious operations, and
overwhelmed with tremendous awe.
I could but thing of Coleridge's ode
to Mont Blanc. My travelling COM
panlons, Rev. F.. J. Stanley and Mr..
William Kemper. are devout lovers
of nature in its wild and rugged
form. And as the mother looks at
her dimpled babe and imagines she
can see that soul that will live fol-
ever, so these gentlemen looking at
natures gigantic form could see
visions of light and glory.
After fording a stream Of water
a number of times, and climbing q
mountain where the nose ana toes
would be brought into q close init
macy with each other, and following
a trail zigzag. semi-circular and as
irregular as the flight of a comet, we
were permitted to gaze on a valley in
the distance, lying between two
ranges of mountains, which furnished
to us exquisite charms. How as
founding the contrast. There were
the mountains behind us huge and
massive, dark and sombrous; there
was the valley before us, robed in
summers costume. There were the
grain fields waving and rustliDg in
the breeze, the flowers smiling in the
sun, and trees laden with fruit,
bending under The weight Of luxu
RANT abundance. And as Africa is
proud of its cinnamon groves and
murky wales Asia of Palestine, the
primeval theatre of love and beauty
and poetic joy and inspiration Eu-
rope of its italian skies, and America
of its "sunny South" SO Montana
ought to be proud of Bitter Root val
ley, for it is the fruitful Elysian of
our Territory. All the valleys ofany
importance in Montana we have Wis
tied and seen, and without any hest
tation or reluctance, we assert that
the Bitter Root valley is infinitely su-
perior to any ether in the Territory.
It is q valley of immense size and
magnitude, we'll watered, and to me
who just emerged from q painless
forest canopied with trees, it looked
like Shakespere's model woman
whose complexion said he, "looked
as clean as morning newly
washed with dew" And as I saw
the fields thick, heavy and yellow
with golden grain, the apple trees
bending their heads weighed down
with fruit; the plum trees Adorned
and beautified with clusters of their
kind, tomatoes Redeemed with a hue
| that indicated maturity, water mel
ons as sweet and numerous as
sugar plums in a Roman carnival,
and several other things of q kim
dred nature I thought Of a tropical
| CLINE. In short 1t is . valley of
wealth, fruit, beauty and loneliness,
| and The people are as grand and gen.
| erous as the soil that yields such
plentiful harvests.
A trip to the elysian of u Terri
tory is replete with interest, and es-