Capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1893-1895, 1894-02-03
THE HOUSE OF HARL.

was pretending to kill trout in the
stream flowing through "the greenest
of our valleys"-Pl Pleasant valley, on
the eastern Sierra slope-but my line
was in the tree and / was dreaming
of the days agone, when old Dan
Quick, first of the settlers-oldest in.
habitant- called me from the bank,
rallied me on my careless angling
and told me to follow him down the
brook toward Steamboat creek, where
the trout were bigger and more plen-
tiful. AS we went we came out upon
the old stage road, and before long
my guide was telling me the story of
the honor of the house of Harl
AS we stood beside the road and
the old settler was saying that it was
no longer much Travelled, everybody
patronizing the railroad, fine car
riage drawn by four magnificent bay
horses came up over little ridge in
the direction of the town of Reno
and swept past us.
In the carriage were two ladies and
some young girls, while on the seat
in front, handling the ribbons, was
handsome man, of middle age, with
beside him manly looking lad, 10
or 12 years of age. All in the vehicle
were laughing merrily as they passed
along, and my thought was "a very
jolly family party"
The old man beside me was all eyes
as the four -in-hand dashed by. With
his right hand raised to the rim of
his hat and with staring eyes he
stood motionless, as one ypetrifed.
When the glittering turnout had roll
ed away southwark to Carson City
the old man dropped his hand and
cried: "Ah, there they roll in wealth
and gladnessI But once it was not so.
There was a time when all was very
different with them. Yes, very differ
ent, and right here in this valley
right along the course of the very road
over which they now ride so merrily.
Yes, sir, very different times they've
seen in these very valleys that lie
along here under the caves of the old
Sierra range They rode then as
well as now-not in kerridge, but
on hosses, and fiers they was tool
1t was a life and death business to
them then. There was no laughin
thenl
Yes, there was once seen right
along here in these valleys mighty
lively chase-a life and death chase.
All them big peaks looked down on
that race, and all these lower ones
echoed it. Lord, remember it all
as if it was only yesterday that it
happened.
"Yes, there is bit of a story in it.
1t is almost what you might call
tragedy, and here we are right on
the stage where it was acted out.
Then to think / have jist seen two of
the principal actors go laughin byl
Jack Lang, the man you saw
drivin tat kerridge, was young
them days-a slashin, dashin feller
and as handsome as they make 'em.
And the youngest of the two vim
min you saw in the kerridge was
then a young gal She was the
beauty of the Great Basin-not gal
between the Sierras and the Rockies
could come up to her. She was tall
and timber as a young willer tree,
and her face was like the first blush
OF bright mornin. She could ride
like Comancher Injun and shoot a
rifle like one of the old hunters of
Kentucky. She was the pride of her
father, the idol of her mother, an
only child and the life and light of
the house of Harl, as old Sam Liked
to speak of his people.
The ranch of her father, old Sam
harl, lies of yander in Washoe val
ley, and the land is as fine as the sun
shines on anywhere on the face of
the globe. Over these plains and
along the slopes of them mountains
the gal, Ella Harl, raced and chased
about on the widest young horses Of
her fathers band. Or rmay DO on foot
slne IN hand, she tripped it over the
bench lands after jack rabbits and
sage hens. Sometimes she even struck
on up into the lower slopes of the
nlerFas and tumbled over a deer.