OCR Text |
Show CITY OF THE GREAT SALT LAKE. 129 ragged mountains, stretching far to the southward, and enclosing within their embrace the lovely little Lake of Utah. On the northern confines of the city, a warm spring issues from the base of the mountain, the water of which has been conducted by pipes into a commodious bathing- house; while, at the western point of the same spur, about three miles distant, another spring flows in a bold stream from beneath a perpendicular rock, with a temperature too high to admit the insertion of the hand, ( 128° Fahr.) At the base of the hill it forms a little lake, which in the autumn and winter is covered with large flocks of waterfowl, attracted by the genial temperature of the water. Beyond the Jordan, on the west, the dry and otherwise barren plains support a hardy grass, ( called bunch- grass,) which is peculiar to these regions, requiring but little moisture, very nutritious, and in sufficient quantities to afford excellent pasturage to numerous herds of cattle. To the northward, in the low grounds bordering the river, hay in abundance can be procured, although it is rather coarse and of an inferior quality. The facilities for beautifying this admirable site are manifold. The irrigating canals, which flow before every door, furnish abundance of water for the nourishment of shade- trees, and the open space between each building, and the pavement before it, when planted with shrubbery and adorned with flowers, will make this one of the most lovely spots between the Mississippi and the Pacific. One of the most unpleasant characteristics of the whole country, after leaving the Blue River, is the entire absence of trees from the landscape. The weary traveller plods along, exposed to the full blaze of one eternal sunshine, day after day, and week after week, his eye resting upon naught but interminable plains, bald and naked hills, or bold and rugged mountains: the shady grove, the babbling brook, the dense and solemn forest, are things unknown here; and should he by chance light upon some solitary cotton- wood, or pitch his tent amid some stunted willows, the opportunity is hailed with joy, as one of unusual good fortune. The studding, therefore, of this beautiful city with noble trees, will render it, by contrast with the surrounding regions, a second " Diamond of the Desert," in whose welcome shade, like the solitary Sir Kenneth and the princely Ilderim, the pilgrim, wayworn and faint, may repose his jaded limbs and dream of the purling brooks and waving woodlands he has left a thousand miles behind him. The city was estimated to contain about eight thousand inhabit' 9 |