A Ladys Life in the Rocky Mountains | Page 7

not to be floated off till the next freshet, a loud-tongued,
rollicking stream of ice-cold water, on whose banks no ferns or trailers
hang, and which leaves no greenness along its turbulent progress.
All was bright with that brilliancy of sky and atmosphere, that blaze of
sunshine and universal glitter, which I never saw till I came to
California, combined with an elasticity in the air which removed all
lassitude, and gives one spirit enough for anything. On either side of
the Truckee great sierras rose like walls, castellated, embattled, rifted,
skirted and crowned with pines of enormous size, the walls now and
then breaking apart to show some snow-slashed peak rising into a
heaven of intense, unclouded, sunny blue. At this altitude of 6,000 feet
one must learn to be content with varieties of Coniferae, for, except for
aspens, which spring up in some places where the pines have been
cleared away, and for cotton-woods, which at a lower level fringe the
streams, there is nothing but the bear cherry, the raspberry, the
gooseberry, the wild grape, and the wild currant. None of these grew
near the Truckee, but I feasted my eyes on pines[4] which, though not
so large as the Wellingtonia of the Yosemite, are really gigantic,
attaining a height of 250 feet, their huge stems, the warm red of cedar
wood, rising straight and branchless for a third of their height, their
diameter from seven to fifteen feet, their shape that of a larch, but with
the needles long and dark, and cones a foot long. Pines cleft the sky;
they were massed wherever level ground occurred; they stood over the
Truckee at right angles, or lay across it in prostrate grandeur. Their

stumps and carcasses were everywhere; and smooth "shoots" on the
sierras marked where they were shot down as "felled timber," to be
floated off by the river. To them this wild region owes its scattered
population, and the sharp ring of the lumberer's axe mingles with the
cries of wild beasts and the roar of mountain torrents. [4] Pinus
Lambertina.
The track is a soft, natural, wagon road, very pleasant to ride on. The
horse was much too big for me, and had plans of his own; but now and
then, where the ground admitted to it, I tried his heavy "lope" with
much amusement. I met nobody, and passed nothing on the road but a
freight wagon, drawn by twenty-two oxen, guided by three fine-looking
men, who had some difficulty in making room for me to pass their
awkward convoy. After I had ridden about ten miles the road went up a
steep hill in the forest, turned abruptly, and through the blue gloom of
the great pines which rose from the ravine in which the river was then
hid, came glimpses of two mountains, about 11,000 feet in height,
whose bald grey summits were crowned with pure snow. It was one of
those glorious surprises in scenery which make one feel as if one must
bow down and worship. The forest was thick, and had an undergrowth
of dwarf spruce and brambles, but as the horse had become fidgety and
"scary" on the track, I turned off in the idea of taking a short cut, and
was sitting carelessly, shortening my stirrup, when a great, dark, hairy
beast rose, crashing and snorting, out of the tangle just in front of me. I
had only a glimpse of him, and thought that my imagination had
magnified a wild boar, but it was a bear. The horse snorted and plunged
violently, as if he would go down to the river, and then turned, still
plunging, up a steep bank, when, finding that I must come off, I threw
myself off on the right side, where the ground rose considerably, so that
I had not far to fall. I got up covered with dust, but neither shaken nor
bruised. It was truly grotesque and humiliating. The bear ran in one
direction, and the horse in another. I hurried after the latter, and twice
he stopped till I was close to him, then turned round and cantered away.
After walking about a mile in deep dust, I picked up first the
saddle-blanket and next my bag, and soon came upon the horse,
standing facing me, and shaking all over. I thought I should catch him
then, but when I went up to him he turned round, threw up his heels

several times, rushed off the track, galloped in circles, bucking, kicking,
and plunging for some time, and then throwing up his heels as an act of
final defiance, went off at full speed in the direction of Truckee, with
the saddle over his shoulders and the great wooden stirrups thumping
his sides, while I trudged ignominiously along