All the gold and silver in the bowels of the earth, and all the glittering nuggets shining on her bosom did not ruffle the serenity, or affect the wonted vagrancy of the Indians. To them the forest was a nuisance and the saw mill a scarecrow. The singing brook was worthless and the rolling river valueless, save as mothers of trout. They had no love for higher aspiration, no instinct for advancement, no aim to better their condition, no foresight to provide against the pitiless influence of cold or heat, no sagacity, no frugality, no thought of tomorrow, no pile of subsistence for a rainy day or helpless age, troubled their minds. Life was to them a ceaseless dream of nothingness. Superstition was their god and pride, reason a casual stranger which rooted not in their souls. What has changed this sad drudgery of the Indians to a social commonwealth? What has spurned the fiend of superstition to a shameful death? What has invited reason and common sense to dwell peacefully in our hearts? What has lifted the world from the thorny plane of priesthood? What has wrested from the priestly hand the scepter of government? Our forefathers knew it and provided for its development. The pioneers of Washington had tested it, and prescribed it for the coming generations. The log schoolhouse rose to their sweet recollection of childhood days, then a frame building, then a brick edifice. High schools were established, a state university was erected, normal schools were founded, an agricultural college and school of science was built. [Illustration: THE UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON.] THE FIRST SCANDINAVIAN PIONEERS. CHAPTER II. Dashed from shore to shore, On the Pacific evermore, Now sunk in grave or bent with years, Dauntless pioneers.