Polk County observer. (Monmouth, Polk County, Or.) 1888-1927, 1903-08-14
WHERE ROLLS THE OREGON
Dallas Boy Writes EntertaIningIy Of
His Trip Up Columbia River.
.Lose thyaeli in lhe eonI Ilnu0ns woodg


Where rolls the oregon, and hears no sound
Save his own dashinga9
We we've floating on the bosom
Of the majestic Columbia. On th,
right hand rose towering in theil
verdant glory the green-clad hills
Of Oregon. Along the left lay the
shores Of Washington, pinnaclec
and crowned with palisades. Twas
twilight with the first glimmer oI
a star, as, to me, through the still
ness came these noble words OF
Bryant.
To those who havs read and en-
joyed Thanatopsis comes far
gveater enjoyment when privileged
to feast the eye and Soul upon the
scenes Of which tha poet has SO
sweetly sung. Though the name
"Oregon," scented with ancient
romance, and coming from whence
no man knows, has given place to
full, majestic "Columbia," the
river is still the SAND as when God
traced its course WITH His finger,
and for an heritage lgave it king
ship over Western Streams. For
more than century, men have
attempted, with brush and pen,
pictures that would adequately de-
scribe the Northern gateway to the
Pacific. But, as Nature is the one
perfect artist, only 70 those who
have seen with their eyes is it
privileged tofully know this match
less handiwork Of God. Eagles
circling in clouds, through which,
towering ever upward, rise the
snow-clad mountain bentinels; cas-
cades and waterfalls that shower
themselves about the shoulders Of
the mountains in a thousand Bridal
Wells; gorges that render asunder
the eternal hills; forests Of emerald,
that quench their thirst at the
waters edge, there rise to kiss the
blue Of heaven +, ancient Wis.
dom said, great farm Il 4 iatelleets
afe conceived and oagossgn nlidst
Nature in her sublimity, what a
race Of giants must one day issue
from this Western landl
Our good boat bravely faces the
current. pressing deeper and deeper
into the Inland Empire, on by
Castle Rock and the great mountain
face that lies profiled as if slumber-
ing from the long vigil that he
kept o'er the river and forest
primeval. We wonder what tales
that mouth of stone might tell of
days long gone: OfIndian warriors,
stern and painted, that sped their
bark canoes to scenes of bloody
strife; of tawny braves that wooed
and won the dark-eyed maiden by
the stream. But on we speed; now
within the shadows that lie beneath
towering columns Of granite; now
upon wavelets, moonlit, that ride
between broad and sweeping shores,
until, at length, the river narrows
and the waters rush with the fury
of unclaimed demons. Our little
vessel struggles like thing alive
in pillows white with rage. She
fights the throttling grasp as long
as handiwork of man may dare to
cope with Nature in her madness;
then, with the gracefulness of
honorable defeat, glides out from
laundering turmoil into a quiet
haven. The Cascades Of the Colum-
bia, with all their wealth of romantic
legend, roll and rage before US.
We will linger here awhile and |
listen to the tale that the waters
murmur and the red men tell.
In the time now many suns ago,
before the valley and the forest
knew the tread of white men, and
The streams the CLINT Of sunlight
on a sail--where now the Cascades
in whirlpool rage-spanned the
Bridge of the Gods" and to his
1ark-skinned children the Father
Spirit told that while the Bridge
should stand the Indian Brave
would roam the land and reign
The word was true. Stalwart
IONS sprang from noble sires, and
irst of all the tribes were the
Nillamettes, and Multnomah was
heir chief. The game in the hills
vas theirs and the fish in
thousand streams, and they knew
10 foe to fear. The great river
lowed not as it now flows with
EXPERIENCE Is THE BEST teacher.
Use Acker's English Remedy in any
a l