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Show MOUNT TRUMBULL. these were the men. No person had ever come down the canon; that was impossible; they were trying to hide their guilt. In this way he worked them into a great rage. They followed, surrounded the men in ambush, and filled them full of arrows. That night I slept in peace, although these murderers of my men, and their friends, the U-in-ka-rets7 were sleeping not five hundred yards away. While we were gone to the canon, the pack-train and supplies, enough to make an Indian rich beyond his wildest dreams, were all left in their charge, and were all safe; not even a lump of sugar was pilfered by the children. September 20.-For several days we have been discussing the relative merits of several names for these mountains. The Indians call them U-in-ka-rets, the region of pines, and we adopt the name. The great mountain we call Mount Trumbull, in honor of the Senator. To day the train starts back to the canon water pocket, while Captain Bishop arid I climb Mount Trumbull. On our way we pass the point that was the last opening to the volcano. It seems but a few years since the last flood of fire swept the valley. Between two rough, conical hills it poured, and run down the valley to the foot of a mountain standing almost at the lower end, then parted, and ran on either side of the mountain. This last overflow is very plainly marked; there is soil, with trees and grass, to the very edge of it, on a more ancient bed. The flood was everywhere on its border from ten to twenty feet in height, terminating abruptly, and looking like a wall from below. On cooling, it shattered into fragments, but these are still in place, and you can see the outlines of streams and waves. So little time has elapsed since it ran down, that the elements have not weathered a soil, and there is scarcely any vegetation on it, but here and there a lichen is found. And yet, so long ago was it poured from the depths, that where ashes and cinders have collected in a few places, some huge cedars have grown. Near the crater the frozen waves of black basalt are rent with deep fissures, transverse to the direction of the flow. Then we ride through a cedar forest, up a long ascent, until we come to cliffs of columnar basalt. Here we tie our horses, and prepare for a climb among the columns. Through crevices we work, till at last we are on the mountain, a thousand acres of pine land spread out before us, |
