NEVADA.

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Virginia City, October 24.

            I LEFT the quaint capital of Mormondom on the loveliest of a long succession of lovely autumn days. The beautiful valley of the Great Salt Lake was brimmed with golden sunshine, and rich purple lights were on all the hills.

            Ogden is all alive nowadays with excitement over a great tin-mine, said to be immensely valuable. Experienced Cornish miners report the ore unusually fine, and there are vast deposits.

            We had a moonlight night of surpassing beauty, which bewitched me out of half my sleep, and yet I waked in time to see a sunrise painting sky and mountain with wonderful, gorgeous colors. I found nothing tiresome or disagreeable in all that day's travel. I did not rebel against the eternal dull sage-brush below, when the sky was full of ever -varying clouds, and the sunlight

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touched every object with tender, impartial rays. Even the alkali dust annoyed me little, as it was cold enough to have all the windows closed. Still, it was pleasant to come upon grazing valleys and rocks and canons again. The palisades in Twelve-Mile Canon are very grand and beautiful, and the Devil's Peak is a highly satisfactory diabolical feature in the wild landscape ; and all along the valley of the Humboldt there are pictures of savage grandeur and quiet beauty which alternately rouse and rest one. On that day we were first waited upon at table by soft -footed, white - robed, moon - faced Orientals. I find the Chinese very agreeable as waiters. They put on no superior Littimer airs, yet are so utterly removed from all interest in you and your affairs, beyond the business in hand, that, with half a dozen about you, you have a delightful sense of privacy, and should no more think of dismissing Chinese servants for better after-dinner freedom in conversation, than of sending away the tea-tray, lest its painted mandarins should listen and gossip. There is " no speculation " in their eyes. The sleeping and the dead and the Chinese are but as pictures.

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            At Reno I left the train for Virginia City. It was after midnight, but the weather was mild and the moonlight resplendent ; so a mountain stage-ride of twenty miles had no terrors for me. We had six good horses that sturdily toiled up the long grade, and gallantly dashed down the declivities, and whirled us around rocky points in magnificent style. But gradually the stifling dust, the rising wind, and ever -increasing cold, clouds, and mists prophesying storm, and the vice -like jam of an overcrowded coach changed what had seemed to me a pleasant adventure into a most fatiguing and uncomfortable journey. In the gray, uncertain light of a dawn that grew slowly and sullenly into the only dreary, dreadful day I have seen on this coast, I reached Virginia, famous as the home of " Tom Flynn " and Laura Fair, and somewhat celebrated as the city set on the hill, whose foundations are of silver and gold, and whose gates open downward into the more wonderful underground city of the Comstock Lode.

            There was no room for me at the inn. I did not quite lodge in the manger, but in an apartment

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scarcely more desirable. It was an awful day ; the wind rose to the dignity of a tornado, dry at first, swirling about old Mount Davidson, and whelming the town in thick gray clouds of dust ; then came the rain, swift and furious as hail. Between the gusts I caught glimpses of the wild and desolate scenery about me. The great brown hills seemed to me, not only utterly denuded, but flayed, stripped of all the outer covering of nature, and gashed and scarred and marred and maltreated in every way. But in happier days succeeding, these same bleak hills grew to have for me a sort of grim grandeur and savage attractiveness. Moonlight, from some atmospheric peculiarity of the region, perhaps, gives to them a strange, mystical, unreal beauty, and a sunset glorifies them wonderfully, but it takes a great sunset to do it.

            My sole amusement during that first dreary day was in gazing out upon the street. Here I saw more Chinese than I had before beheld, and more Indians. The latter, I am happy to say, are to a considerable degree accepting the situation, and becoming civilized and Christianized. When sorely pinched the noble red man will bow his proud neck

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over the saw-horse to earn his daily tobacco and whiskey, and allow his squaw to earn their bread and potatoes by washing. When night came, " I was darkly, deeply, desperately blue." I had as yet no reply to my letters of introduction. I had seen no friendly, familiar face. My sole society had been a fellow-traveller in reduced circumstances and depressed spirits, -- an Hungarian lady of rank. It is a singular circumstance that all the Hungarians I have ever known have been people of rank. A pretty nurse-girl and an elderly colored waiter, seeing my low state of spirits, essayed to comfort me. She first advised me to go " to see the cannibals," some Fiji-Islanders, exhibiting in the town. "They say," she said, " that the old chief will bring out the leg of a man and eat it before the audience ; and that the princess will eat a whole baby, all by herself."

            When I expressed incredulity, her ingenuous countenance fell. " I thought, if they would do all that, they would be worth seeing," she coolly said, though giving at the same moment a loving hug to the fair, fat baby she held in her arms.

            Jem, the waiter, asked if I contemplated a long visit to Virginia.

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            " No," I growled out, " I shall start to-morrow for a civilized country, -- shaking the dust of Nevada from my feet, if that be possible."

            He looked hurt, and eagerly answered, " Why, we are civilized, madam ; we 've got a good vigilance committee here now. The time was when you could n't go out of a morning without stumbling over a dead man or two."

            Tranquillized in spirit, I reposed that night under the protecting wing of the vigilance committee, which is supposed never to slumber or sleep. Joy came in the morning in the handsome and hearty shape of the superintendent of the Chollar-Potosi Mine, who took me home to his beautiful house and his lovely wife. The storm was over, and thenceforth all was brightness and pleasantness for me in Nevada. So pleasant was it, so hospitable and social were the people, so much was there to see, that I absolutely found no time during my too brief stay to chronicle incidents and impressions, and I am now almost ashamed to dismiss so delightful an episode of travel in a few brief, dry paragraphs, as I find I must do.

            My kind host, Mr. Rigua, did the honors of the

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Chollar-Potosi. We descended into those mysterious argentiferous deeps, by means of the " cage," a sort of iron elevator, very safe and comfortable. The like of this admirable machine I did not see in Colorado. There you have to go down in a bucket, with the chance of kicking it on the way. This is cleanly and swift and silent. If you want to visit the fourteen-hundred-feet level, you step on a little platform, settle, and are there. We went down several miles, and walked several hundred feet under ground, or went down several hundred feet and walked several miles, I am not clear which ; but I know it was a very interesting, easy, and instructive expedition, pleasanter than a walk through the musty and mortuary old catacombs, which always seemed to me to smell stiflingly of dead Christians. We visited several levels, explored tunnels and drifts, and saw all the various processes of mining, most of which were already familiar to me. The ground I found mostly very dry, and the tunnels and drifts no more difficult to explore than the galleries of those same old catacombs, which they more than once reminded me of. Some very rich deposits of ore have lately

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been discovered in this mine, lying solitary and alone in the form of monstrous eggs (roc's eggs), which are very cunningly hid away, and only come upon by accident. The miners get as excited as boys in egg-hunting, and have as little scruple about robbing the nest.

            The Chollar is not now worked at its lowest level, some eleven hundred feet down. The lode is not generally found to increase in richness as it descends, though the Belcher and the Crown Point have produced very rich ore at a very low depth. The mines on the Comstock Lode alone have produced an astonishing amount of bullion during the past year, and the talk is constantly of new discoveries. The old mountain is not yet half disembowelled.

            To the superintendent of the Sutro Tunnel I was indebted for a visit to that famous work, and a most charming day. We drove down Six-Mile Canon, a most interesting drive, as it takes you past many of the great crushing-mills and the sluices, reservoirs, and buildings for the saving and working over of the tailings, -- fine, clay-colored dust, formerly thrown away as mere refuse, but

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now found to contain enough gold and silver- to pay handsomely. It is the last gleaning of the golden crops up above. Millions of dollars have drifted down these gulches in ''tailings."

            The valley of the Carson, from which the Sutro Tunnel leads into the mountain, is very lovely, but lonely and bare. If the great tunnel be ever completed, and prove the success its projectors hope it to be, Virginia City, already wearing an ancient and permanent aspect, must be virtually transported thither, the tunnel becoming the principal outlet of the mines. But it will be a great undertaking, even for the energetic and enthusiastic Teutonic engineer, to bring a mountain town like that to the plain without the aid of an avalanche. I have always had a strong interest in the Sutro Tunnel enterprise. I liked the boldness and the daring of it. I was impressed by the splendid possibilities. It would be stealing a march on old Mercury, -- storming his great treasure-house by sapping and mining from below. It was something stupendous, yet practicable and feasible, -- on the chart at least. On the spot, I more fully realized the stupendousness of the undertaking. So

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little has yet been done, such an immensity remains to be undone ! We went in, about half a mile, to where the men were slowly blasting their way through the hardest sort of granite.

            Though Mr. Sutro is a man of wonderful energy and perseverance and persuasiveness, -- though he has faith that almost may remove mountains, -- I cannot believe that the remaining seven and a half miles of tunnelling will ever be accomplished without strong aid and comfort from government. Sutro proposes, -- Congress disposes. I suppose the Commission will report during the coming session, and the momentous question of subsidy or no subsidy will be decided. Prepossessed in favor of the enterprise though I was, on going to Nevada, candor compels me to state that I found almost everywhere, among mine and mill owners, superintendents and business men generally, a strong and bitter opposition to the work. It is claimed by its able advocates that it will be a blessing to all eventually. But "all" decline to be blessed. They rebel against the grants, against the royalty, against the tolls, -- against the whole "big job." They see, or will acknowledge, no advantages

182 NEVADA.

in it, direct or incidental. They say that the prospects held out of rich discoveries along the route of the tunnel are "such stuff as dreams are made of."

            Of course, this is a question which only actual exploration can decide ; they may be all mistaken, -- blinded by prejudice; and I confess that, if it could be done without injustice or loss to the men who have done so much to develop the resources of Nevada, who have labored so heroically against adverse conditions, through long years of doubtful fortunes, I should like to see the work carried through. Let the innermost mystery in the heart of the old mountain be got at, the long dispute be ended, and the greatest mining problem of the age be solved. Then, when the sullen old mountain, thoroughly brought to bay, is compelled to disgorge his treasure by thousands of tons, and to bleed gold and silver through countless newly discovered veins and arteries, I doubt not that the faithless and unbelieving will give in, and consent to be made rich ; that even the Bank of California will gracefully accept the situation and the bullion. My day at the tunnel and at Dayton, a

CARSON. 183

pretty little valley town, was full of enjoyment, owing in great part to the cordial hospitality of my host and his pleasant family. We drove home through Gold Canon and by Silver City and Gold Hill, -- all wonderful scenes of bold enterprise and busy industry, full of interest for me. On the following day we went to Carson by probably the crookedest railroad in the world, -- a marvellous, almost inconceivable, piece of engineering.

            Carson is the home of our genial and eloquent friend. Senator Nye. I was most graciously and charmingly entertained by his friends and neighbors, whom I found, without an exception, admirers and lovers of the man.

            Carson has some wonderful hot springs, which supply baths said to be excellent for rheumatism. Hot springs abound in Nevada. I heard of a family who do all their cooking by means of a domesticated geyser in their kitchen. The water of a hot spring near Elko has a decided taste of chicken-broth. What a pity it is not located in Chicago !

            Of course, I visited the penitentiary to see the scene of the late terrible fight between the escap-

184 NEVADA.

ing convicts and the officers. The marks of the conflict are yet to be seen on walls and doors. Most of the men have been caught, and after their fearful hardships seem glad to get back. Many of them will not go out again, except for a little walk to the scaffold. While talking over the affair with the warden in one of the corridors, I was startled by hearing fearful groans almost under my feet. Looking down, I saw a small grating in the flag-stones, and was told that beneath us were two dungeons, in which the worst recaptured convicts -- murderers -- were confined.

            Carson must be in the spring and summer a very pretty place ; for it has foliage and flowers and water, and grand hills behind it not yet stripped of all their trees. The society here is cultivated and agreeable, and the grace of a noble hospitality adds to it the last best charm. The Mint and the State Capitol are noble buildings, and there are several elegant private residences in the town.

            I have left myself no space fitly to describe the crowning pleasure of my little tour in Nevada, -- the visit to Lake Tahoe. With a merry party of

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friends, in a large barouche drawn by four handsome grays, I made the excursion with great comfort, with unalloyed enjoyment, notwithstanding the lateness of the season, for the day was one of rare mildness and stillness, of perfect beauty. The road up the mountains, past Eagle and Carson valleys, is a magnificent one, and commands magnificent views. It was comforting to see wooded hillsides again. All along our way the pines grow grand and tall, and there was something most "melancholy sweet" in the sound of the low winds among their dark branches. It took me back to the Alleghanies, the Green Mountains, the White Mountains, even the Alps, -- so is that sombre music of the pines passed, from mountain- top to mountain-top, around the world.

            Tahoe is the most beautiful lake I have ever beheld. It is an emerald on the brow of the mountain. Marvellously clear and sparkling, it is surrounded by the most enchanting scenery, and is altogether a surprise, a wonder, a delight. Some time I hope to be able to describe it. I am vain enough to think I could do it ; for I have only to close my eyes, and the whole exquisite picture of

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radiant skies and autumnal banks and purple mountains and soft green water glows and melts and shimmers before me. Ah, Nature was in a happy, tender, divine mood when she formed Lake Tahoe and its exquisite surroundings ! And yet that sweet mood succeeded a passionate, fiery outburst, lasting nobody knows how many centuries ; for it is said by scientists that a volcano once seethed and rumbled where Tahoe now ripples and smiles. This lovely sheet of water was once named Lake Bigler, after a Democratic governor ; but a triumphant Republicanism rechristened it Tahoe, -- an improvement, perhaps, poetically, but politically a very small piece of business. There is an admirable hotel at the lake, and a small steamer for pleasure- excursions, a charming drive along its shores, and prime fishing in its cool, translucent waters. On the face of a high rock, in full view from the road and the lake, there is a singular natural curiosity. It is a profile, formed apparently by certain depressions in the stone, -- a colossal intaglio, -- and is a striking and a very noble likeness of Shakespeare. It is strange to think that Nature had chiselled his face in the eternal rock, high among the cliffs

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where the eagles nested, in this savage mountain-land, at a time when the New World itself seemed but a monstrous mirage, or fata Morgana, afar down the watery slope of the world, -- when not even the magic seas and the spacious heaven of his imagination took it in.

            I think Lake Tahoe must yet become a great pleasure resort. I have seen no more charming spot in all my tours for a summer's rest and rambling.