Hesperothen; Notes from the West, Vol. 2 (of 2): A Record of a Ramble in the United States and Canada in the Spring and Summer of 1881 — John Shaqi
Hesperothen; Notes from the West, Vol. 2 (of 2): A Record of a Ramble in the United States and Canada in the Spring and Summer of 1881Russell, William Howard, Sir
History
Hesperothen; Notes from the West, Vol. 2 (of 2): A Record of a Ramble in the United States and Canada in the Spring and Summer of 1881
Russell, William Howard, Sir
United States -- Description and travel
Nothing in the way of riding is more disagreeable than going down
a very sharp mountain-side on a pony not, for all you know, very
sure-footed, and so instead of riding, I resolved to walk, now and
then taking a short cut, to the great discomfiture of feet and boots,
although it is three thousand feet to the bottom, and make the best
of my way and the most of the road, which is very fair, down the zig
zags. I reached the plain thoroughly hot and tired, and bathed in
perspiration, in fifty-seven minutes. The horsekeeper, who came down
with the rest of the party, seemed to have been affected by the rarity
of the atmosphere or something else up at the mountain hostelry, for
he insisted on it that I had ridden down, and demanded his horse.
"What the thunder, Russell, have you done with my horse?" he asked
again and again. Satisfied for the time by my assurances that I had
not ridden at all, he went off, and then, thinking over the matter,
came back again to repeat his question, till I told him I would not
answer it any more. He was an amusing fellow in his way, and affable.
He called the Duke "Sutherland," now and then putting Mr. before it.
As he was watering his horses, he said: "Here, Mister Sutherland, lay
hold of the bucket, will you, whilst I take a turn at this one." And
the Duke did so with alacrity. It was a day of incessant activity. No
sooner had the mountain party come down than they were off again to
drive through the Valley. The rest of our party had already executed
masterly investigations at the foot of all the waterfalls; admired
the Bridal Veil and the Widow's Tear, as one cascade is satirically
termed, "because," says the guide, "it dries up in six months;" had
driven and ridden everywhere and seen everything, and we had to do the
same; but it would need a week of conscientious work to exploit the
Valley thoroughly. At half-past 7, the dinner hour, the little inn was
swarming with people; the stage had arrived with fresh contingents.
Every place was full, and what with the clatter of knives and forks,
the clamour of waiters, the tumult of voices laughing and talking,
it was scarcely possible to conceive that a few short years ago this
valley was in the exclusive possession of the Indian and the wild
beast. There is now, however, a great conflict of interests, and Mammon
is holding his revels in the Valley. The State has voted a certain
sum of money, twenty-five thousand dollars, I think, to buy up the
interests of the trail-makers; that is, those who struck out and made
paths to the various objects of attraction; but no success has yet been
attained in the negotiations, and, indeed, I should think it a very
bad investment for most of them to accept their share of such a sum.
Macaulay, for example, who made the path up to the point from which
we descended to-day, must make many hundreds of dollars in the height
of the season, as he charges so much a visitor, and, besides, has a
restaurant where they take their meals at the top.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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