The San Francisco call., 1909-01-31

and most frequented between Placer
VILE and the state line was this or
Watson's in Strawberry valley. 1t was
known then slippery ford. name
since transferred TO kybergs, IL miles
on the hither side. The indisputably
rods below the present bridge at the
upper end Of the valley, The river
runs over an outcropping OF granite as
smooth as a polished floor the water
slipping by with a swiftness that must
have brought many wagon and its
load to grief.
The present Strawberry valley house
Is but Enthusiastically renOvated-mule
barn OF the old establishment. The
same family are in possession, and
there is a white haired old woman
whose tales OF those stirring days
sound strangely In the quiet OF the
valley The original house was on a
thronging guests over1owed il. and
late Corners slept in rows upon the
floors. 1t burned down one winter
night. and only the foundations are
left. hidden I'm the rank grass OF the
meadow.
Much treasured and still in use il
the old register, preserving In the
faded ink OF its earlier pages names
that have become OF a half legendary
fame. - we'll as other entries no less
interesting. such as showed In. By
thunder and a record OF the ductua-
tiOns OF a poker game that apparently
lasted four days.
Horace Greeley was a guest here;
his name appears more than once.
though not in a hand that can be tden-
titled as his. You are told that over
this very road he took his famous ride
with Hank Monk. "Sit still Horace.
I'll git you thar" said the driver to
the man of fame. who fretted at the
prospect OF an engagement unfuldIled:
and the white hat bobs wildly as the
horses go plunging down the grade
Hank Monk is In the record very often.
and the queer labored writing IL no
doubt his own. And so it goes on TIL
we reach the name OF David Starr Jor-
dan and others renowned IN our own
day, and are far away from the Wild
times of the sixties, when humanity
from all quarters OF the earth poured
like river through this valley. to
spread out and be lost upon the desert.
Even today the pass has an impor-
tance that one accustomed to think OF
travel only in terms OF ratlroadfng is
by no means prepared for The gray
highway Is an artery through which.
though no more at fever heat. there
still pulses steady flow Of human life.
For once again the gold lust lures men
on over the mountains into the wastes
beyond. Weary foot travellers plod by.
their prospecting tools upon their
backs. or packed with other humble
gear upon patient burro. Whole
families on the move will pass. with a
wagon or two heaped with household
goods and animals with children. cats
and poultry There are drOves of cat
tie. on their way TO slaughter to feed
the canvas cities of a day. Other
herds. less tragically destined ara
making for some cool. green mountain
pasture Horse traders come by IN
bands. wild gipsy looking creatures.
with some forlOrn women and babies,
and a bunch OF small. clean Hmbed
, horses OF the bronco breed Aut0mO-
/ bfles effect a passage now and then,
} their tires slipping In the sharp sand:
and once our sight was dazzled by the
spectacle OF a veritable prairie schoOn-
: er. bearing family Of belated pioneers
all the way from Missouri. Tt Is the
: pageant of life. as one sees It anywhere.
changeful and strange and fevered, and
above all. evanescent. set against a
, background ever changeless Gin our
small sense), ever serene. beautiful and
austere-the old sphinx-countenance
OF nature. looking unmoved upon the
/ antlike toll OF mar.