In this story of the Salt Lake Trail, our account would not be complete without including the history of the great "Iron Trail" that now practically, for a long distance, follows the grassy path of the lumbering stage-coach, the slowly moving freight caravans drawn by patient oxen, or the dangerous route of the relatively rapid Pony Express.

No better story of the construction of the Great Union Pacific Railroad can be found than the address of its chief engineer, General G. M. Dodge, before the Society of the Army of the Tennessee, at Toledo, Ohio, on the 15th of September, 1888. He had been over the whole region which extends from the Missouri River to Salt Lake in the early '50's, and, as has been said of him by a distinguished jurist, now dead:

     He was an enthusiast who communicated enthusiasm to his
     working forces, and he showed his skill in the management of
     hostile Indians, and the ruffians and gamblers who followed
     the camp. The close of the war, in which he distinguished
     himself, left him at liberty to accept this position of chief
     engineer, and his intimate relations with Grant and Sherman
     put him on such terms with commanding officers of garrisons
     and military posts along the route, that he was enabled to
     avail himself of military aid against marauding Indians, and
     also frequently in maintaining order when worthless
     camp-followers become unruly. 

The authors of this work have deemed it advisable to quote the greater part of General Dodge's address, as a more complete account of the construction of the road than anything to be found elsewhere on the subject:—

     Turn with me to the first volume of General Sherman's memoirs,
     page 79, where he says:— 

     "Shortly after returning from Monterey, I was sent to General
     Smith up to Sacramento City to instruct Lieutenants Warner and
     Williamson, of the engineers, to push their surveys of the
     Sierra Nevada Mountains, for the purpose of ascertaining the
     possibility of passing that range by a railroad, a subject
     that then elicited universal interest. It was generally
     assumed that such a road could not be made along any of the
     immigrant roads then in use, and Warner's orders were to look
     farther north up the Feather River, or some of its tributaries.
     Warner was engaged in this survey during the summer and fall
     of 1849, and had explored to the very end of Goose Lake,
     the source of Feather River, when this officer's career was
     terminated by death in battle with the Indians." 

     He was too modest to add, as I have no doubt was the fact,
     that those instructions were sent at his own suggestion;
     that was the first exploring party ever sent into the field
     for the special purpose of ascertaining the feasibility of
     constructing a railway on a portion of the line of one of the
     transcontinental routes, and that the exploration preceded
     by at least four years the act of Congress making
     appropriations "for explorations and surveys for a railroad
     route from the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean,"
     the earlier fruits of which were embodied in thirteen
     ponderous volumes, printed at the expense of the government. 

     And still further. The interest thus early manifested
     continuing with unabated force was signalized in the closing
     days of his official life by a summary of transcontinental
     railroad construction up to that date, 1883, so exhaustive as
     to the leading facts that I am at a loss touching the scope
     he expects me to give to this paper. This summary may be
     found in General Sherman's last report to the Secretary
     of War, including the exhaustive statistics of Colonel Poe.
     (Ex. Doc. 1, Part 2, Forty-eighth Congress, 1st Session,
     pages 46, 47, and 253-317. 

     Under all circumstances, therefore, I must assume that he
     expects me to confine my remarks to something of an elaboration
     of the details of the construction of those lines with which
     I was personally identified, more especially that which first
     of all linked the two oceans together. . . . 

     When I first saw the country west of the Missouri River it was
     without civil government, inhabited almost exclusively by
     Indians. The few white men in it were voyageurs, or connected
     in some way with the United States army. It was supposed to
     be uninhabitable, without any natural resources or
     productiveness, a vast expanse of arid plains, broken here
     and there with barren, snow-capped mountains. Even Iowa was
     unsettled west of the Des Moines River. 

     It cost the government in those days from one to two cents per
     pound to haul freight one hundred miles to supply its posts;
     and I was at one time in the country between the Humboldt and
     the Platte nearly eight months without seeing a white man
     other than my own employees. 

     Now, from the Missouri River to the Pacific, from the Red River
     and the Rio Grande to the British possessions, the territory
     is all under civil law. 

     The vast region is traversed its entire length by five great
     transcontinental lines of railroad. There is hardly a county
     in it not organized, and it is safe to say that there is not
     a township that is without an occupant. Its plains teem with
     all the products grown east of the Missouri River. It has
     become the great corn and wheat producing belt of the United
     States; its mountains are the producers of millions upon
     millions of the precious ores, and from every range and valley
     iron and coal in immense quantities are being mined. 

     It is said that a railroad enhances ten times the value of
     the country through which it runs and which it controls, but
     the value of this country has been enhanced hundreds of times.
     The government has reaped from it a thousand-fold for every
     dollar it has expended; and the Pacific roads have been the
     one great cause that made this state of affairs possible.
     The census of 1890 will place, in this territory, fifteen
     million of people, and in twenty years it will support forty
     million. 

     It is difficult, I doubt not, for you to comprehend the fact
     that the first time I crossed the Missouri River was on a raft,
     and at the point where stands the city of Omaha to-day.
     That night I slept in the teepee of an Omaha Indian. 

     When I crossed my party over to make the first explorations
     not one of us had any knowledge of Indians, of the Indian
     language, or of plains craft. The Indians surrounded our
     wagons, took what they wanted, and dubbed us squaws. In my
     exploring, ahead and alone, I struck the Elkhorn River about
     noon. Being tired, I hid my rifle, saddle, and blanket,
     sauntered out into a secluded place in the woods with my pony,
     and lay down to sleep. I was awakened and found my pony gone.
     I looked out upon the valley, and saw an Indian running off
     with him. I was twenty-five miles from my party and was
     terrified. It was my first experience, for I was very young.
     What possessed me I do not know, but I grabbed my rifle and
     started after the Indian hallooing at the top of my voice.
     The pony held back, and the Indian, seeing me gaining upon him,
     let the horse go, jumped into the Elkhorn, and put that river
     between us. 

     The Indian was a Pawnee. He served me in 1865, and said to me
     that I made so much noise he was a "heap scared." 

     Within a radius of ten miles of that same ground to-day are
     five distinct lines of railroad, coming from all parts of the
     country, concentrating at Omaha for a connection with the
     Union Pacific. 

     The first private survey and exploration of the Pacific
     Railroad was caused by the failure of the Mississippi
     Missouri, now the Chicago, Rock Island, Pacific, to complete
     its project. 

     The men who put their money into that enterprise conceived
     the idea of working up a scheme, west of Iowa, that would be
     an inducement to capital to invest in carrying their project
     across Iowa to the Missouri River. They also wished to
     determine at what point on the Missouri the Pacific Railroad
     would start, so as to terminate their road at that point.
     The explorers adopted Council Bluffs, Iowa, as that point.
     All roads crossing the state for years ended their surveys at
     that point, and all roads now built connect with that point.
     These explorations, commenced by me in 1853, were continued
     each year until 1861, when the result was seen in the framing
     of the bill now known as the Law of 1862. 

     After this bill was passed, the Union Pacific Company was
     organized at Chicago, September 2, 1862, and Reed, Dey, and
     Brayton made reconnoissances east of the mountains, Reed
     confining his work to the crossing of the mountains to reach
     the Great Salt Lake Basin. The effort to engage capital in
     the road was a failure. 

     During these explorations, in 1856 or 1857, I happened to
     return to Council Bluffs, where Mr. Lincoln chanced to be on
     business. It was then quite an event for an exploring party
     to reach the States. After dinner, while I was sitting on the
     stoop of the Pacific House, Mr. Lincoln came and sat beside
     me, and in his kindly way and manner was soon drawing from me
     all I knew of the country west, and the result of my surveys.
     The secrets that were to go to my employers he got, and,
     in fact, as the saying there was, he completely "shelled my
     woods." President Lincoln, in the spring of 1863, sent for me
     to come to Washington. 

     When I received the summons from General Grant, at Corinth,
     Mississippi, to repair to Washington, giving no reason,
     it alarmed me. I had armed without authority a lot of negroes
     and organized them into a company to guard the Corinth
     contraband camp. It had been severely criticised in the army,
     and I thought this act of mine had partly to do with my call
     to Washington; however, upon reaching there and reporting to
     the President, I found that he recollected his conversation on
     the Pacific House stoop; that he was, under the law, to fix
     the eastern terminus of the Pacific Road; and, also, that he
     was very anxious to have the road commenced and built, and
     desired to consult me on these questions. He finally fixed
     the terminus at Council Bluffs, Iowa. 

     In the discussion of the means of building the road I thought
     and urged that no private combination should be relied on,
     that it must be done by the government. The President frankly
     said that the government had its hands full. Private
     enterprise must do the work, and all the government could do
     was to aid. What he wished to know of me was, what was
     required from the government to ensure its commencement and
     completion. He said it was a military necessity that the road
     should be built. 

     From Washington I proceeded to New York, and after consulting
     there with the parties who had the question before them,
     the bill of 1864 was drawn. In due time it passed, and under
     it the Union and Central Pacific Railroads, constituting one
     continuous line, were built. 

     In the fall of 1864, and after the fall of Atlanta, and while
     on my return from City Point, where I had been to visit
     General Grant for a couple of weeks, the commander-in-chief
     sent me back by way of Washington to see the President. 

     While the President referred to the Pacific Road, its progress
     and the result of my former visit, he gave it very little
     thought, apparently, and his great desire seemed to be to get
     encouragement respecting the situation around Richmond, which
     just then was very dark. People were criticising Grant's
     strategy, and telling him how to take Richmond. I think the
     advice and pressure on President Lincoln were almost too much
     for him, for during my entire visit, which lasted several
     hours, he confined himself, after reading a chapter out of
     a humorous book (I believe called the Gospel of Peace ),
     to Grant and the situation at Petersburg and Richmond. 

     After Atlanta, my assignment to a separate department brought
     the country between the Missouri River and California under
     my command, and then I was charged with the Indian campaigns
     of 1865 and 1866. I travelled again over all that portion
     of the country I had explored in former years, and saw the
     beginning of that great future that awaited it. I then began
     to comprehend its capabilities and resources, and in all
     movements of our troops and scouting parties I had reports
     made upon the country—its resources and topography; and
     I myself, during the two years, traversed it east and west,
     north and south, from the Arkansas to the Yellowstone and
     from Missouri to the Salt Lake Basin. 

     It was on one of these trips that I discovered the pass
     through the Black Hills, and gave it the name of Sherman,
     in honour of my great chief. Its elevation is 8236 feet, and
     for years it was the highest point reached by any railroad in
     the United States. The circumstances of this accidental
     discovery may not be uninteresting to you. 

     While returning from the Powder River campaign I was in the
     habit of leaving my troops, and, with a few men, examining
     all the approaches and passes from Fort Fetterman south, over
     the secondary range of mountains known as the Black Hills,
     the most difficult to overcome with proper grades of all the
     ranges, on account of its short slopes and great height. When
     I reached the Lodge-Pole Creek, up which went the overland
     trail, I took a few mounted men—I think six—and with one of
     my scouts as guide, went up the creek to the summit of
     Cheyenne Pass, striking south along the crest of the mountains
     to obtain a good view of the country, the troops and trains at
     the same time passing along the east base of the mountains on
     what was known as the St. Vrain and the Laramie trail. 

     About noon, in the valley of a tributary of Crow Creek,
     we discovered Indians, who at the same time discovered us.
     They were between us and our trains. I saw our danger and
     took means immediately to reach the ridge and try to head
     them off, and follow it to where the cavalry could see our
     signals. We dismounted and started down the ridge, holding
     the Indians at bay, when they came too near, with our
     Winchesters. It was nearly night when the troops saw our
     smoke-signals of danger and came to our relief; and in going
     to the train we followed this ridge out until I discovered
     it led down to the plains without a break. I then said to my
     guide that if we saved our scalps I believed we had found the
     crossing of the Black Hills—and over this ridge, between the
     Lone Tree and Crow Creeks, the wonderful line over the
     mountains was built. For over two years all explorations had
     failed to find a satisfactory crossing of this range.
     The country east of it was unexplored, but we had no doubt
     we could reach it. 

     In 1867, General Augur, General John A. Rawlins, Colonel
     Mizner, and some others, crossing the plains with me, reached
     the point where I camped that night. We spent there the
     Fourth of July, and General Rawlins made a remarkable speech
     commemorating the day. We located there the post of D. A.
     Russell and the city of Cheyenne. At that time the nearest
     settlement was at Denver, one hundred and fifty miles away;
     and while we lay there the Indians swooped down on a Mormon
     train that had followed our trail, and killed two of its men;
     but we saved their stock, and started the graveyard of the
     future city. 

     The explorations by the government for a Pacific railroad are
     all matters of official report, long since published and open
     to all. They were the basis for the future explorations of
     all the transcontinental lines, except the Union Pacific,
     then known as that of the forty-second parallel of latitude.
     That line, and the country from the Arkansas to the Yellowstone,
     was explored and developed mainly by private enterprise, and
     it is by far the most practicable line crossing the continent
     —the shortest and quickest, of lightest curvature, and lowest
     grades and summits. It is not, in an engineering point of
     view, the true line from the Atlantic to the Pacific, but in
     a commercial point of view it is. 

     In an engineering point of view we demonstrated, before the
     year 1860, that the true line was up the Platte to its forks,
     to which point the Union Pacific is now built, then up (where
     the Oregon Short Line now runs) to the Columbia, and then to
     tide-water at Portland. The Union and Central were built for
     commercial value, and to obtain the shortest and quickest line
     from ocean to ocean. The line of the Central was controlled
     almost entirely by the development of the mining industries
     in California and Nevada until it reached the Humboldt; then
     its natural course would be to reach Salt Lake and the Mormon
     settlements. The Union Pacific objective point was the Pacific
     Coast by way of the Great Platte Valley and Salt Lake. . . . 

     When we reached the mountains a series of questions arose as
     to how this base should be determined. The eastern base was
     determined by Mr. Blickensderfer, who was appointed by the
     government. After examining the country he declared it to be
     right at the foot of the mountains, where the heavy grades to
     overcome the first range, the Black Hills, were made necessary
     —a very proper decision. The west base of the Sierra was
     located near Sacramento, where the drift of the mountains
     reached into the valley, or where, you might say, the first
     approach to the mountains begins, but long before the heavy
     grades commenced. 

     A good story is told, the truth of which I will not undertake
     to vouch for, in relation to the fixing of the base. By the
     original railroad act, as we have noticed, the President was
     to fix the point where the Sacramento Valley ended and the
     foot-hills of the Sierra Nevada began. Chief Engineer Judah,
     in his report, had designated Barmore's, thirty-one miles
     from Sacramento, as the beginning of the mountains. This
     corresponded with a decision of the Supreme Court of the
     United States, made in April, 1864, in the case of the
     Liedsdorff grant. The contestants of the grant attempted to
     fix the eastern boundaries at Alder Creek, eighty miles nearer
     Sacramento. This grant, by Mexican authority, was bounded by
     the foot-hills on the east. The Supreme Court decided that
     the foot-hills commenced about thirty miles from that city.
     Several attempts were made by Mr. Sargent, then a member of
     Congress, and since United States Senator, soon after the
     passage of the original act, to bring the attention of
     President Lincoln to this subject, but the President's
     constant occupation, with weightier duties forced upon him by
     the great war, prevented his action. The time came, however,
     when it could be no longer delayed. 

     Owing to the increase of subsidy among the hills and mountains,
     it was important to the railway company that the foot-hills
     should begin as near as possible to Sacramento. The senator
     claims the credit of moving the mountains from Barmore's to
     Arcade Creek, a distance of twenty-four miles. His relation
     of the affair to his friends is this: Lincoln was engaged with
     a map when the senator substituted another, and demonstrated
     by it and the statement of some geologist that the black soil
     of the valley and the red soil of the hills united at Arcade.
     The President relied on the statements given to him, and
     decided accordingly. "Here you see," said the senator,
     "how my pertinacity and Abraham's faith removed mountains." 

     Reconnoissances made in 1862, 1863, 1864, had demonstrated
     that a serious question would arise in reaching the Humboldt
     Valley from the western foot of the Wahsatch Mountains in the
     Salt Lake Basin. Should the line go north or south of the lake?
     The Mormon Church and all of its followers, a central power of
     great use to the transcontinental roads, were determinedly
     in favour of the south line. It was preached from the pulpits
     and authoritatively announced that a road could not be built
     or run north of the lake. But our explorations in an earlier
     day unqualifiedly indicated the north side, though an
     exhaustive examination was made south, and only one line run
     north, it being our main line to the California state line
     surveyed in 1867. 

     The explorations by parties south of the lake, and the
     personal examinations of the chief engineer, determined that
     it had no merits compared with the north line, and on such
     report the north line was adopted by the company and accepted
     by the government. 

     Brigham Young called a conference of his church, and refused
     to accept the decision; prohibited his people from contracting
     or working for the Union Pacific, and threw all his influence
     and efforts to the Central Pacific, which just at that time
     was of great moment, as there was a complete force of Mormon
     contractors and labourers in Salt Lake Valley competent to
     construct the line two hundred miles east or west of the lake.
     The two companies also had entered into active competition,
     each respectively to see how far east or west of the lake
     they could build, that city being the objective point, and
     the key to the control of the great basin. 

     The Central Pacific Company entered upon the examination of
     the lines long after the Union Pacific had determined and
     filed its line, and we waited the decision of their engineers
     with some anxiety. We knew they could not obtain so good a
     line, but we were in doubt whether, with the aid of the Mormon
     Church, and the fact that the line south of the lake passed
     through Salt Lake City, the only commercial capital between
     the Missouri River and Sacramento, they might decide to take
     the long and undulating line; and then the question as to
     which (the one built south, the other built north, and it
     would fall to the government to decide) should receive the
     bonds and become the transcontinental line. However, the
     engineers of the Central Pacific, Clements and Ives, took as
     strong ground, or stronger than we, in favour of the north
     line, and located almost exactly on the same ground the Union
     Pacific had occupied a year before; and this brought the
     Mormon forces to the Union Pacific, their first love. 

     The location of the Union Pacific was extended to the
     California state line, and that of the Central Pacific to the
     mouth of the Weber Canyon. The Union Pacific work hastened,
     and most of the line graded to Humboldt Wells, two hundred and
     nineteen miles west of Ogden, and the Union Pacific met the
     track of the Central Pacific at Promontory Summit, one
     thousand one hundred and eighty-six miles west of the Missouri
     River, and six hundred and thirty-eight miles east of
     Sacramento, on May 9, 1869, to the wonder of America, and the
     utter astonishment of the whole world, completing the entire
     line seven years before the limit of time allowed by the
     government. . . . 

     In 1863 and 1864 surveys were inaugurated, but in 1866 the
     country was systematically occupied; and day and night, summer
     and winter, the explorations were pushed forward through
     dangers and hardships that very few at this day appreciate;
     as every mile had to be within range of the musket, there was
     not a moment's security. In making the surveys, numbers of
     our men, some of them the ablest and most promising, were
     killed; and during the construction our stock was run off by
     the hundred, I might say by the thousand. As one difficulty
     after another arose and was overcome, both in the engineering
     and construction departments, a new era in railroad building
     was inaugurated. 

     Each day taught us lessons by which we profited for the next,
     and our advances and improvements in the art of railway
     construction were marked by the progress of the work; forty
     miles of track having been laid in 1865, two hundred and sixty
     in 1866, two hundred and forty in 1867, including the ascent
     to the summit of the Rocky Mountains, at an elevation of eight
     thousand two hundred and forty feet above the ocean; and
     during 1868 and to May 10, 1869, five hundred and fifty-five
     miles, all exclusive of side and temporary tracks, of which
     over one hundred and eighty miles were built in addition. 

     The first grading was done in the autumn of 1864, and the
     first rail laid in July, 1865. When you look back to the
     beginning at the Missouri River, with no railway communication
     from the east, and five hundred miles of the country in
     advance; without timber, fuel, or any material whatever from
     which to build or maintain a roadbed itself; with everything
     to be transported, and that by teams or at best by steamboats,
     for hundreds and thousands of miles; everything to be created,
     with labour scarce and high—you can all look back upon the
     work with satisfaction and ask, under such circumstances,
     could we have done better? . . . 

     The experience of the war made possible the building of this
     transcontinental railroad, not only physically, but financially.
     The government, already burdened with billions of debt,
     floated fifty million dollars more, and by this action it
     created a credit which enabled the railroad company to float
     an equal amount; and these two credits, when handled by men of
     means and courage, who also threw their own private fortunes
     into the scale, accomplished the work. 

     If it had been proposed, before the war, that the United
     States should use its credit, and issue bonds to build a
     railroad two thousand miles long across a vast, barren plain,
     only known to the red man, uninhabited, without one dollar
     of business to sustain it, the proposition alone would have
     virtually bankrupted the nation. 

     Possibilities of finance, as developed during the war, made
     this problem not only possible, but solved and carried it out,
     and accomplished in three years a feat which no previous plan
     had proposed to accomplish in less than ten years; and while
     it was being accomplished, the only persons who had real,
     solid, undoubted faith in its completion were that portion
     of the nation who had taken an active part in the war. 

     Necessity brought out during the war bold structures that in
     their rough were models of economy in material and strength.
     In taking care of direct and lateral strains by positions of
     posts and braces, they adopted principles that are used to-day
     in the highest and boldest structures; and I undertake to say
     that no structure up to date has been built which has not
     followed those simple principles that were evolved out of
     necessity, though reported against during the war by the most
     experienced and reliable engineers of the world. 

     A few bold spirits backed the enterprise with their fortunes
     and independent credit. They were called fools and fanatics.
     Oakes Ames—the real pluck of the work—said to me once, "What
     makes me hang on is the faith of you soldiers," referring, at
     the time, to the support the army was giving us, led by Grant,
     Sherman, Sheridan, Pope, Thomas, Augur, and Crook, and all who
     had direct communication with us on the plains. There was
     nothing we could ask them for that they did not give, even
     when regulations did not authorize it, and took a large
     stretch of authority to satisfy our demands. 

     The commissary department was open to us. Their troops
     guarded us, and we reconnoitred, surveyed, located, and built
     inside of their picket-line. We marched to work by the tap of
     the drum with our men armed. They stacked their arms on the
     dump, and were ready at a moment's warning to fall in and
     fight for their territory. 

     General Casement's track-train could arm a thousand men at
     a word; and from him, as a head, down to his chief spiker,
     it could be commanded by experienced officers of every rank,
     from general to captain. They had served five years at the
     front, and over half of the men had shouldered a musket in
     many battles. An illustration of this came to me after our
     track had passed Plum Creek, two hundred miles west of the
     Missouri River. The Indians had captured a freight-train and
     were in possession of it and its crews. It so happened that
     I was coming down from the front with my car, which was a
     travelling arsenal. At Plum Creek Station word came of this
     capture and stopped us. On my train were perhaps twenty men,
     some a portion of the crew, some who had been discharged and
     sought passage to the rear. Nearly all were strangers to me.
     The excitement of the capture and the reports coming by
     telegraph of the burning train brought all the men to the
     platform, and when I called upon them to fall in, to go
     forward and retake the train, every man on the train went
     into line, and by his position showed that he was a soldier.
     We ran down slowly until we came in sight of the train.
     I gave the order to deploy as skirmishers, and at the command
     they went forward as steadily and in as good order as we had
     seen the old soldiers climb the face of Kenesaw under fire. 

     Less than ten years before, General Sherman had suggested
     a different method of dispensing with the Indian. Writing to
     his brother, he said:— 

     "No particular danger need be apprehended from Indians. They
     will no doubt pilfer and rob, and may occasionally attack and
     kill stragglers; but the grading of the road will require
     strong parties, capable of defending themselves; and the
     supplies for the road and maintenance of the workmen will be
     carried in large trains of wagons, such as went last year to
     Salt Lake, none of which were molested by the Indians.
     So large a number of workmen distributed along the line will
     introduce enough whiskey to kill off all the Indians within
     three hundred miles of the road." 

In speaking of the climatic changes incident to the building of transcontinental lines of railroad, General Dodge also says:—

     The building of the Pacific roads has changed the climate
     between the Missouri River and the Sierra Nevada. In the
     extreme West it is not felt so much as between the Missouri
     River and the Rocky Mountains. Before settlement had
     developed it, the country west of the Missouri River could
     raise little of the main crops, except by irrigation. From
     April until September no rain fell. The snows of the
     mountains furnished the streams with water and the bunch-grass
     with sufficient dampness to sustain it until July when it
     became cured and was the food that sustained all animal life
     on the plains, summer and winter. 

     I have seen herds of buffalo, hundreds of thousands in number,
     living off bunch-grass that they obtained by pawing through
     two feet of snow, on the level. It was this feature that
     induced the stocking of immense ranches with cattle. Buffalo
     never changed the character of the grass, but herds of cattle
     did, so that now, on the ranges, very little of the bunch or
     buffalo grass remains. 

     Since the building of these roads, it is calculated that the
     rain belt moves westward at the rate of eight miles a year.
     It has now certainly reached the plains of Colorado, and for
     two years that high and dry state has raised crops without
     irrigation, right up to the foot of the mountains. 

     Salt Lake since 1852 has risen nineteen feet, submerging whole
     farms along its border and threatening the level desert west
     of it. It has been a gradual but permanent rise, and comes
     from the additional moisture falling during the year—rain and
     snow. Professor Agassiz, in 1867, after a visit to Colorado,
     predicted that this increase of moisture would come by the
     disturbance of the electric currents, caused by the building
     of the Pacific railroads and settlement of the country.[75] 

     It must be admitted, however, that the growth of the once vast
     supposed relatively sterile region west of the Missouri River
     is not due in its entirety to the building of railroads, but
     that the idea of absolute sterility was a mistaken one;
     without a fertile soil and other possibilities for the
     advancement of civilization there, railroads would never have
     been constructed. The railroads have developed what was
     inherently not a desert in its most rigid definition, but a
     misunderstood region, which only awaited the touch of the
     genius of agriculture, made possible alone by the building of
     transcontinental highways. 

But for the railroads the great central region of the continent would indeed be a howling wilderness. As the late Sidney Dillon, ex-president of the Union Pacific Railroad, wrote in a magazine article on "The West and the Railroads" in the North American Review for April, 1891,

The Great Salt Lake Trail is now crossed and recrossed by the iron highway of commerce. The wilderness is no longer silent; the spell of its enchantment is broken. The lonely trapper has vanished from the stern mountain scene. The Indian himself has nearly disappeared, and in another generation the wild landmarks of the old trail will be almost the only tangible memorials of the men who led the way.

[1] This John Coulter was the first white man to see and describe the wonders of what is now the National Park. His account, however, was received as a frontier lie, and the truth of his statements were not verified until long after the hardy adventurer's death.

[2] Fort Osage, on the Missouri River, was on the site of the present town of Sibley, where the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railroad crosses that stream.

[3] John Day was a remarkable man. His life was full of wonderful adventures. He became insane while on this expedition of Stuart's, and was sent back to Astoria, but shortly afterwards he died there. The well-known John Day's River was so called in his honour.

[4] From an inspection of the map which accompanied Stuart's march, this stream was evidently the headwater of the North Fork of the Platte; but he was not aware of the fact.

[5] Grand Island in the Platte River was thus originally named by the early trappers and voyageurs, the majority of whom were French Canadians.

[6] See Astoria, by Washington Irving.

[7] This was not Kit Carson. The great frontiersman did not make his advent in the mountains until years afterward.

[8] An Indian vapour-bath, or sweating-house, is a square six or eight feet deep, usually built against a river bank, by damming up the other three sides with mud, and covering the top completely, excepting an opening about two feet wide. The bather gets into the hole, taking with him a number of stones that have been heated, and a vessel filled with water. After seating himself he begins to pour the water on the hot stones, until the steam generated is sufficient to answer his purpose. When he has perspired freely, he goes out and plunges in the stream, the colder the water the better.

[9] Rose lived with the Crows many years, became a great man among them, could speak their language fluently. He was a giant, and fearless to recklessness, and by his deeds of daring became one of the first braves of the tribe. At one time, in a desperate fight with the Blackfeet, he shot down the first savage who opposed him, and with the war-club of his victim killed four others. His name among the Crows was "Che-ku-kaats," or the man who killed five. His knowledge of the country was marvellous, and some years after his adoption by the tribe, he was the principle guide and interpreter for Fitzpatrick and Sublette, who conducted a trapping expedition sent across the continent by General Ashley. How he died is unknown; one rumour says from his licentious habits, another that he was killed by some of his adopted brethren. He was a heroic vagabond, but the redeeming feature of his life was that he taught the Crows to cultivate the friendship of the whites, a policy which that tribe observed for years.

[10] See Washington Irving's Astoria.

[11] He was the son of an Iroquois hunter, who had been cruelly murdered by the Blackfeet on a small stream below the mountains which still bears his name.

[12] In 1820 Major Stephen H. Long, of the United States army, commanded an expedition through the Platte Valley and beyond, under the direction of the War Department. As its object was purely scientific, and its details uninteresting to the general reader, it is omitted here.

[13] Captain Bonneville attained the rank of colonel, was retired in 1861, and died on the 12th of June, 1878.

[14] The Black Fork of Green River is in the southwest corner of the state of Wyoming.

[15] The name "Long-Knife" was applied by the Indians to the command of Lewis and Clarke when they crossed the continent in 1804-5, and it has remained as a name for the whites ever since.

[16] A keg.

[17] Bancroft.

[18] Captain Stuart Van Vliet, U.S.A.

[19] In reciting the preparations for the impending war on the part of the Mormons, the hardships of the United States troops, and other incidents relating to the troubles in Utah Territory, the authors of this volume quote freely from Bancroft, Senate and House Democrats of the Thirty-third Congress, as well as reports of the War Department.

[20] Taylor was captured by the United States troops about sixteen miles from Fort Bridger, and the letter of instruction found on his person.

[21] The remains of those dams and breastworks could be seen for many years afterward, by travellers on the trains of the Union Pacific Railroad which passed through the canyon.

[22] He took refuge in the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River; his hiding- place was three miles from any possible pass, and he kept a faithful adherent constantly on guard. When any one was seen approaching the pass, Lee was immediately signalled and forthwith repaired to a cave, where he remained until it was discovered whether the intruder was friend or foe. If not a friend, he kept to his cave until the party had left, then returned to his house. Lee followed this life for five or six years, until he became so weary of dodging, and running from supposed enemies, that he finally returned to Salt Lake City. I saw his cave and house some years ago when, in company with General N. A. Miles and others, I made a pleasure trip to the Grand Canyon.—W. F. CODY.

[23] See Bancroft's Pacific States.

[24] Washington E. Hinman.

[25] The present Julesburg, until a few years ago, was called "Denver Junction"; the old town was situated a mile west on the opposite side of the river, and the Julesburg of 1867 was five miles farther west, north of the Platte, and is now known as Weir.

[26] Senator Gwinn espoused the cause of the Southern Confederacy, and lost his wonderful prestige and influence in California, as well as a fortune, in his fealty to his native state, Mississippi. In 1866 he was created Duke of Sonora by Maximilian, in the furtherance of his visionary scheme of western empire, but died soon afterwards.

[27] Known throughout the West as "Pony Bob."

[28] So called because the trail ran through a canyon where the Sweetwater reached from wall to wall, and had to be crossed three times in a short distance.

[29] "Cayuse" means horse in some Indian dialects.

[30] Cy Warman vouches for this story in his Frontier Stories . Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons, 1898.

[31] Related to Harriet MacMurphy (to whom we are indebted for this truthful account) by Mrs. Elton Beckstead, who at the age of thirteen was Jules' wife and saw her husband murdered.

[32] The child-wife does not tell (perhaps never knew) that Slade nailed one of her husband's ears to the door of the Pony Express station, and wore the other for several weeks as a watch-charm.

[33] Mr. Creighton died of paralysis in 1874, and his widow endowed a college named for him.

[34] Major John Burke thus briefly in a biographical sketch of these men tells of their antecedents: "Russell was a Green Mountain boy, who before his majority had gone West to grow up with the country, and after teaching a three months' school on the frontier of Missouri, hired himself to an old merchant of Lexington at thirty dollars to keep books. . . . Alexander Majors was a son of Kentucky frontier mountain parentage, his father a colleague and friend of Daniel Boone. William Waddell, of Virginian ancestry, emigrants to the Blue Grass region of the same state as Majors, was bold enough for any enterprise, and able to fill any niche the West demanded."

[35] This stream was named by Fremont on his second expedition of exploration to the regions of the then unknown "Far West."

[36] The initial starting-point of the stage line was Leavenworth, on the Missouri, but after a few months it was changed to Atchison.

[37] This was the route of the Pony Express which was inaugurated some years afterward.

[38] Ben Holliday was one of those wonderful characters developed by a life of adventure and danger, having been nurtured amid the most startling incidents of the frontier. He was born near the old Blue Lick battlefield. At seventeen he was Colonel Doniphan's courier. When only twenty-eight years old he entered Salt Lake Valley with fifty wagonloads of goods, and was endorsed by Brigham Young as being worthy of the confidence of his people. Ten years later he was the head of the Overland Route; at forty- five the owner of sixteen steamers on the Pacific Ocean, with an immense trade to Central America, China, and Japan.

[39] Near the station of Ogallala, on the Union Pacific Railroad.

[40] The unfrocked monk, Geudeville, who travelled extensively in Canada, and published in London, in 1703, his New Voyages to North America, under the nom de plume of Baron La Hontan. It is doubted how far this jolly soldier and bon vivant travelled west. He had served at various points in the interior, and leaves no reason to doubt his presence, at various times, at what was Fort Gratiot, Michilimackinac, Green Bay, and other points in the region of the Upper Lakes. It is the opinion of the historians, however, that he went no farther than Green Bay. There can be but little question of the character of the fiction he attempted to palm off on his readers. His work is a literary curiosity, unexcelled in bibliography, for its bold assumption in attempting to impose on a credulous age a tale of fancied adventures and fictitious observation. He was a veritable Baron Munchausen.

[41] Bancroft.

[42] Although very rare indeed, among all other tribes, it was the leading physical characteristic with the Mandans, a nation long since extinct, who occupied the region at the mouth of the Yellowstone.

[43] This band was known as the Arikaras—not the Pawnees proper.

[44] See Long's Expedition and Schoolcraft's Indian Tribes .

[45] The proper designation of this numerous tribe is Dakota, meaning allied; the word "Sioux," although difficult to trace to its proper origin, is generally conceded to be a nickname—one of reproach given to them by their ancient enemies east of the Mississippi.

[46] A common game among the savages. One party to the game takes a pebble or small bullet in the curve of both his hands. After he has tossed it about for a few seconds, he swiftly holds them apart, and if his opponent can guess which hand the pebble or stone is in, he wins; if not, he loses. Immense amounts are frequently wagered in this game, for the North American Indian is an inveterate gambler.

[47] The name owes its origin to the practice of this tribe scarring the left arm, crosswise, a custom which was kept up until a few years ago.

[48] It is a fact that the Comanches and Shoshones, though living a thousand miles apart, with hostile tribes between them, speak exactly the same language, and call themselves by the same general name. They have, however, lost all tradition of having once formed one nation.

[49] As in some instances the medicine-men, so called, are really the doctors of the tribe, and as "medecin" is French for doctor, the early French voyageurs gave this term to these mystery-men, by which they have been known ever since.

[50] The name of the Crows is not the correct appellation of the tribe. They have never yet acknowledged the name, though as such are officially recognized by the United States government. It was conferred upon them in the early days by the interpreters, either through ignorance of the language, or for the purpose of ridicule. The name which they themselves acknowledge, and they recognize no other, is in their language Ap-sah-ro- kee, which signifies the Sparrow Hawk people.

[51] Beckwourth was a mulatto born in Virginia in 1798. He was of medium height, of strong muscular power, quick of apprehension, very active, and one of the greatest warriors the Crow Nation has ever produced. Around his neck he wore a perforated bullet, with a large oblong bead on each side of it, secured by a thread of sinew. He wore this amulet during the whole time he was chief of the Crows. He was one of the few honest Indian traders of whom history gives any account.

[52] Disfigurement of the body and dismemberment of the fingers, as an observance of mourning, was common among all Indian tribes. Sometimes upon the death of a warrior in battle his horse was cut and slashed, "to make him feel sorry for the loss of his master."

[53] During the sessions of the Peace Commission at Fort Laramie in 1866, Beckwourth was sent on a mission to consult with the chiefs of the Crows. He was taken sick in one of their villages and died there, probably from old age rather than disease.

[54] The Sioux bury their dead on platforms erected seven or eight feet above the ground.

[55] For the best and most authentic collection of Indian Folk-lore, see George Bird Grinnel's admirable volumes on the subject.

[56] Bancroft.

[57] This account is taken from files of the Denver newspapers published at the time of the massacre.

[58] Ouray did not profess the Catholic religion, despite his early training. He believed in the Ute god, and in a happy hunting-ground, and also in a bad place, where wicked people cannot meet their friends.

[59] There is more in this legend of a primitive, superstitious people, from an ethnological view of its details, than would be suspected at first. The story of the sacrifice and the medicine-man wrapping himself in the bloody hide of the buffalo, the use of the pine as fuel, and the prostration of the multitude, while communion is held with the Great Spirit, is the same ceremony that was observed by the Druids, and religious peoples before them. This peculiar offering of blood was common to the Indian who in the early years of the century occupied a portion of the territory east of the Mississippi. It will be remembered by the student of American history that when the war of 1812-1815 was pending, the celebrated Tecumseh and his brother, the Shawnee Prophet, called the tribes together, in order to induce them to side with the English. At that famous council they sacrificed a spotless red heifer on a high altar, and the medicine-man wrapped the bloody skin around him, while all the savages present prostrated themselves and communed with the Great Spirit to know what to do. The result was that Tecumseh's plans were defeated, for the Indians were told by the Great Spirit to side with the Americans.

In the eleventh Book of the AEneid, Virgil relates the same observance on Mount Soracte, where there was a temple dedicated to Apollo, and a sacrifice made annually to the god, who represented the sun. Arruns in his prayer says:—

Apollo, thou of gods
The mightiest, who in guard the sacred mount
Soracte holdest, and whom first of all
We worship, unto whom are heaped the fires
The piney branches make, and whom adore
Thy votaries, as we walk, by pious zeal
Sustained, on burning coals.

[60] The White Chief, by George P. Belden. Edited by General James S. Brisbin. Published by C. F. Vent; Cincinnati, 1872.

[61] Niobrara.

[62] The Southern Cheyennes, Kiowas, and Arapahoes waged an unrelenting war along the whole line of the border from Nebraska to Texas, under the leadership of the dreaded Sa-tan-ta.

[63] Jack Stead was a runaway sailor boy. He was on the Peacock when it was wrecked years ago near the mouth of the Columbia River. He lived for years in the Rocky Mountains, and was the first man to report to the United States government the Mormon preparations to resist it. He had a Cheyenne wife, was a good story-teller, and loved whiskey.

[64] William Frederick Cody ("Buffalo Bill"), the scout, guide, and Indian fighter, was born on the 26th of February, 1846, in a primative log-cabin in the backwoods of Iowa. In 1852, the family removed to Kansas, where the father of young Cody, two years later, became a martyr to the Free State cause. From the moment the family was thus deprived of its support, the only boy, though a mere child, at the age of nine years, commenced his career. As a collaborator in the preparation of this work, he has been prevailed upon to relate all the incidents of his life, so far as they confined to the region of which this volume treats. [E-text editor's note: They encompass chapters 16 and 17 in their entirety. In the original book, every paragraph appeared in quotation marks.] For his further adventures in the Arkansas Valley and south of it, see The Old Santa Fe Trail.

[65] Long poles, one fastened on each side of a pony, the ends dragging on the ground far to the rear; on these the dead and wounded were carried. The Indians also move their camp equipage by this primitive means of transportation.

[66] Strange as it may seem, this savage, instead of being moved with hatred toward Colonel Cody, as a civilized woman would have been under similar circumstances, actually looked upon him with special favour and esteemed it quite an honour that her husband, a great warrior himself, should have met his death at the hands of such a brave man as the Prairie Chief, the name the Indians had given to the colonel.

[67] Nelson is still shooting Indians from the top of the old Deadwood stage-coach in the Wild West show.

[68] The rendezvous, in trapper's parlance, was a point somewhere in the region where the agents of the fur companies congregate to purchase the season's catch, and where the traders brought such goods as trappers needed, to sell.

[69] A very bad quality of whiskey made in Taos in the early days, which, on account of its fiery nature, was called "Taos Lightning."

[70] The Ute name for the Spanish Peaks.

[71] His name for his knife. It was the custom of the old trappers and hunters to personify their weapons, usually in remembrance of the locality where they got them.

[72] If "California Joe" had any other name, but few knew it; he was a grizzled trapper and scout of the old regime. He was the best all-round shot on the plains. He was the first man to ride with General Custer into the village of Black Kettle, of the Cheyennes, when that chief's band was annihilated in the battle of the Washita, in November, 1868, by the U. S. Cavalry and the Nineteenth Kansas. Joe was murdered in the Black Hills several years ago.

[73] Uncle of Senator Cockrell of Missouri.

[74] The real name of this strange old trapper was Thomas L. Smith. He was eventually killed by the Indians.

[75] The authors of this book both well remember when the sand-hills of the Arkansas River were, as their name implied, mere dunes of shifting sand. Now they are covered with rich verdure upon which thousands of cattle feed, and in the intervales are to be seen some of the finest fruit- farms in the region of the central plains. Whether Professor Agassiz was correct, or whether it is caused by great cycles of atmospheric variation, it is a fact.