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Show I 1 Feather River. A writer In a California paper delivers an apostrophe to Feather River, from where It starts on its way at the base of Lassen peak, gathers reinforcements in Big Meadows, and then hows its way through those grand old mountains until it emerges into the Sacramento valley. It is a good deal of a river sure enough, It Is wonderfully wonderful-ly clear and pure at its source and its trout aro unequalled; when tho Western Pacific is completed complet-ed those meadows and both Indian and American valleys will be groat summer resorts for nature nowhere else has made such landscape gardens, never painted fairer pictures nor set them in moro stately frames. But Feather River oarly took on some California habits which mar Its beauties as it proceeds on its way. It lost its purity early in its course; in former days it gave up its gold so recklessly that it has over since been obliged to beat its way down tho ragged and tremendous canyon. Formerly where it debouched de-bouched upon the valley, that valley In springtime spring-time was beautiful with flowers and tho sunbeams sun-beams come like a caress to men. Then gardens were planted; the peach and almond tree flourished flour-ished and later orange groves were a delight to the eyes. But the steam dredge came along and brought up wonders from the river bod, then extended ex-tended to the banks and now they have made a desert of miles and miles along the river's course, and the glory has all paused away. And that reminds re-minds us of the men who mined on Feather River in the old days. They, too, are nearly all gone. But what a race they were. So joyous were they, ao strong, so great-hearted; so generous and just. Never were the foundations of a state laid by a higher class. Every state was represented; every phase of American life was represented, and combined no aggregate showed higher or truer souls, or nobl&r men. They passed away with the placers, and no longer hear the deep river as it rolls on its way. |
