the dense mass, perpetual night may be said, without exaggeration, to reign here. I doubt whether the {270} owl could have selected a more fitting abode, certainly none so majestic or mysterious. The death-like silence of this glen, broken only by the passing breeze, the occasional visit of some wild animal, or the constant murmuring of the rills from the rocky banks, impress the beholder with feelings of a most unearthly yet pleasing nature.
With much difficulty and fatigue we forced a passage through this dense mass of forest, stooping half the time upon the neck of the horse, to avoid the low thorny branches, so thickly crossed together, that one is inclined at first sight, to abandon all hope of wedging his way through them. Its termination brought us to the foot of the great chain of mountains. It occupied us nearly another day to ascend this by a narrow winding path, which is shaded by one of the finest forests in Oregon. Towards sunset we reached the top, where we pitched our camp, within a few paces of one of those immense snow masses, that perpetually shroud this lofty chain. Here we enjoyed a most magnificent view—the horizon for some hundred miles around presented a spectacle of surpassing grandeur: as far as the eye could reach, a long succession of mountains, towering cliffs, {271} and lofty pinnacles, exhibited their dazzling snow-capped summits to our astonished vision. The very silence of this vast wilderness strikes the beholder with feelings of deep sublimity; not even a breeze stirred to break the charm of this enchanting view. I shall never forget the splendor of the scene we witnessed, as the last rays of the setting sun were throwing their full lustre upon the myriads of pinnacles that ranged far away towards the distant horizon.
The descent on the eastern side of this mountain is less abrupt, presenting slopes of rich verdure, adorned with
