〉 MR No. 1483—Observations on People and Scenery While Traveling
MR No. 1483—Observations on People and Scenery While Traveling
(Written February 26, 1880, on the train en route to California, to her twin sister, Elizabeth Bangs.) (20MR 291)
After I left you Monday, I was very sick. Tuesday [I was] nervous and suffering with headache, unable to sit up. Tuesday night we arrived at Council Bluffs. There we stopped off to visit Sister Milnor. After walking about half a mile, found her not at home. I had not tasted food through the day and was still suffering with nervous headache. (20MR 291.1)
We walked back to a hotel—the nearest one we could find. It was not very promising. We were shown to our rooms—two very small rooms above the kitchen. In the rooms were only small windows, one in each room. The scent of the cooking had full access to these rooms, with no current of air to take away the nauseating smell of ham, pork, onions, cabbage, and all kinds of scents. If I had not heretofore been most thoroughly disgusted with pork, I should have been now. I could scarcely refrain from vomiting. I became sick and faint, but my good daughter Mary opened the window as far as possible and moved our bed so that the head of it was close by the window, the bed being quite nice. We slept well and felt refreshed in the morning, notwithstanding unpleasant odors. (20MR 291.2)
We took the transfer car to Omaha. We enjoyed our breakfast very much. There came into the depot a woman about forty years old, followed by a large flock of children. One boy about ten years old went out on the platform. This mother went after him and came dragging him in, he resisting at every step. She pushed him with violence into the seat, bringing his head with considerable force against the back of the seat, really hurting the lad. Then came screech after screech, equaled only by the screaming engine. This mother threatened him, but to no purpose. He was in for a regular war cry. When he became tired out, then he lowered his voice to the monotonous long-drawn-out drawling cry just for the purpose of being persevering and revengeful. Here the mother, I judge, was as much to blame as her boy. The boy was stubborn; she was passionate. (20MR 291.3)
I conversed some with the mother. She stated the boy [had] refused to come in and threw himself full length on the platform. She then took him by force and brought him in. Said she, “Oh, if I only had him alone in some place, I would pound him well for his behavior,” I said, 292“That would not change his inward feelings. Violence would only raise his combativeness and make him still worse. I think the more calm the mother can keep at such times, however provoking be the conduct of her children, she maintains her dignity and influence as a mother.” She assented that it might be so. (20MR 291.4)
I inquired, “How many children have you?” She answered, “Eleven,” pointing to two bright-looking little girls. “These are my youngest—one is six, the other four. My eldest are nearly-grown-up boys.” She stated they were as a family on their way to locate in Nebraska, where there was plenty of land to keep the boys at work. Not a bad idea to give these active, sharp, high-toned boys employment; nothing so good as plenty to do in open air, to keep children from being ruined with the temptations and allurements to evil in this life. (20MR 292.1)
It was plain to be seen the mother was fretful, impatient, harsh, and severe. What wonder, then, that the children should be unsubmissive and insubordinate. These children, eleven in number, and the husband, showed they felt the mother’s power that permitted no liberty of will. She would jerk one, fret at another, twitch about another, and answer her husband’s questions with a firm vim. (20MR 292.2)
This mother’s mode of government set my mind on a study. She forced them to self-assertion in various improper ways, showing the mother’s management was a sorry failure. There were eleven bright, active children. If the mother had the machinery oiled with patience and self-command, as every mother should have, if she had possessed the right spirit, she would not have aroused the combative spirit of her ten-year-old boy. All this mother seemed to know of government was that of brute force. She was threatening, intimidating. Her youngest children seemed to have a fear to stir; others looked hard and defiant. Some looked ashamed and distressed. I longed to preach a sermon to that mother. (20MR 292.3)
I thought if that mother knew her responsibility as a mother, she would not pursue the course she had done in that depot. Her burdens must necessarily be heavy, but how much more weighty was she making them for herself by her own lack of self-control. Every harsh word, every passionate blow, would react upon her again. If she were calm and patient and kind in her discipline, the power of her example would be for good [and] would be seen in her children’s deportment. How much that mother needed the help of Jesus to mold the minds and fashion the characters of her children. How many souls such mothers will gain to the fold of Christ is a question. I really do not believe they will gather one soul to Jesus. They train, they rule, they ruin. But enough of this. (20MR 292.4)
We purchased our sleeping car tickets [for] sixteen dollars to Ogden. We should be two days and a half and two nights in reaching there. We obtained two lower berths and were told if we had applied the day before, we could not have been accommodated, but the travel was light from Omaha that day, which was much in our favor. (20MR 293.1)
On leaving Omaha we found ourselves and numerous baskets and satchels well disposed of in an elegant palace sleeper [with] only seventeen passengers in our car, no babies to cry, no invalids to exclaim, “Please close the ventilators. Will you shut down that window.” We were at perfect liberty to open and close windows for our convenience. (20MR 293.2)
There was nothing especial to engage our attention Wednesday night but the prairie fires. These looked grand and awful. In the distance while the train is slowly moving onward, we see the long belts of lurid flame stretching for miles across the prairie. As the wind rises, the flames rise higher and become more brilliant, brightening the desolate plains with their awful brightness. We see, farther on, hay stacks and settlers’ homes guarded with deep furrows broken by the plow to protect their little homes. We saw dark objects in the distance guarding their homes from the fire fiend by throwing up embankments. (20MR 293.3)
Thursday morning we arose from our berths refreshed with sleep. At eight o’clock we took a portion of the pressed chicken furnished us by the matron of the sanitarium, put the same in a two-quart pail, and placed it on the stove, and thus we had good hot chicken broth. The morning was very cold and this hot dish was very palatable. I limited myself to only one meal each day during the entire journey. When the cars stopped at stations any length of time, we improved the opportunity by taking a brisk walk. Generally in approaching Cheyenne and Sherman I have difficulty of breathing. Thursday noon we were at Cheyenne and it was snowing and cold. Could not walk much that day. “All aboard” was sounded about half past three, and again we were moving onward. (20MR 293.4)
In nearing Cheyenne we were interested by the view of the Rocky Mountains. Dark clouds obstructed our view. As we neared Laramie we were having a hail storm. Occasionally the sunlight would break through the clouds, striking full upon the mountaintops, but night drew on and we were all huddled together while preparations were being made for us to occupy our berths. This night the wind blew the coal gas into the windows, nearly suffocating me. I was afraid to sleep. This night was the only disagreeable one upon the route. In the morning after we had taken our breakfast from our well-filled dinner baskets, we felt much 294refreshed. I wrote several pages back to Battle Creek. Here we began to come to scenery worth our attention. (20MR 293.5)
The cars move slowly and smoothly along, giving the passengers a fair chance to view the scenery. An additional engine is added to help draw the train up the summit of Sherman. We reached Sherman about six o’clock and had no inconvenience in breathing. The elevation between Cheyenne [and Sherman] is 2,001 feet, the distance nearly 33 miles. The ascending grade averages from Cheyenne 67 feet per mile. The two engines puff and blow as if requiring a powerful effort to breathe. At length the summit is reached and the descent begins two miles west of Sherman. We cross Dale Creek bridge. It looks frail, as if incapable of sustaining the ponderous train, but it is built of iron and very substantial. A beautiful, narrow, silvery stream is winding its way in the depths below. The bridge is 650 feet long, 130 feet high, and is considered a wonderful affair in this route. (20MR 294.1)
We look in the valley below and the settlements look like pigeon houses. We pass rapidly down the grade through the snow sheds and granite cuts. We have now, as we pass on, a full view of the Diamond Peaks of the Medicine Row Range. They are, with their sharp-pointed summits, pointing heavenward, while their sides and the rugged hills around them are covered with timber. When the atmosphere is clear, the Snowy Range can be distinctly seen clothed in the robes of perpetual snow. A chilliness creeps over you as you look upon them, so cold, so cheerless, and yet there is an indescribable grandeur about these everlasting mountains and perpetual snows. (20MR 294.2)
But night draws her sable curtains around us, and we are preparing to occupy our berths for the night. The wind was blowing strong against us, sending the smoke of our heating stove into every opening and crevice in the car. I slept, but awoke with a suffocating scream. I found myself laboring hard for breath, and the coal gas was so stifling I could not sleep for hours, dared not sleep. This was the most disagreeable night that I had on the journey. In the morning felt better than I expected. We again prepared our breakfast, making a nice hot broth. Our two tables were prepared, one in each seat, and we ate our nice breakfast with thankful hearts. The porter, well filled with silver donations, was very accommodating, bringing lunch baskets, making room, and depositing our baggage with all pleasantness. (20MR 294.3)
We are known on the train. One says, “I heard Mrs. White speak at such a meeting.” The book agent, a fine young man from Colorado, says he heard Mrs. White speak in the 295large, mammoth tent in Boulder City. He was a resident of Denver. We have agreeable chats with one and another. As we move on slowly over the great American desert, with no objects in sight except sagebrush and distant mountain peaks, we seem more like a ship at sea. (20MR 294.4)
The massive train, headed by our faithful steam horse moving along so grandly, seems like a thing of life. You look occasionally back from the rear of the cars upon the straight track, hundreds of miles with scarcely a curve, while wilderness and desolation meet you whichever way you may look. (20MR 295.1)
Passing Cheyenne, we soon entered snow sheds, constantly varying from light to darkness and from darkness to light—the only change for miles. I had been growing stronger as I neared Colorado. We telegraphed to Ogden soon after leaving Omaha, for seats in the car for California, and our seats were assigned us just as we were located in the car we leave. Therefore, it is always best to secure good seats when you take the palace car from Omaha, for that secures you good seats all the trip. Now the tickets have to be purchased at the ticket office before the baggage can be taken into the car. We are all settled some time before [the] sun has passed out of sight beyond the mountains. (20MR 295.2)
We have additional passengers. There is a tall, straight, gentleman eyeing us critically. He has his wife and child with him. His own hair is as dark as the raven’s wing, but his wife’s hair is as white as I ever saw human hair, curled in ringlets. It gave her a singular appearance, not what I should call desirable. She was rather a delicate looking woman. (20MR 295.3)
This man was the wonderful worker in the temperance cause, McKenzie. He has established an institution to treat inebriates in Boston and is now visiting California for the same object. He made himself known to us. As he saw us all engaged in writing, he had, I suppose, some curiosity to know who we were and what we were doing. He composed some verses upon that evening sunset as he was seated by my side. I will copy it for you. This great temperance man was the most inveterate tobacco user we ever saw. Oh, what ideas of temperance! (20MR 295.4)
We prepare for rest and sleep, only one more night to pass. Scenery viewed on Friday while approaching Ogden. At Green River is the place where specimens of fossils, petrifactions, and general natural curiosities are seen. These petrified shells and wood may be purchased for a trifle. There is a high, projecting rock, in appearance like a tower, and twin rocks of gigantic proportions. The appearance of these rocks is as if some great temples once stood here and their massive pillars were left 296standing as witness of their former greatness. (20MR 295.5)
There is a rock called Giant’s Club, and in proportions it is a giant. It rises almost perpendicularly and it is impossible to climb up its steep sides. This is one of nature’s curiosities. I was told that its composition bears evidence of its once being located at the bottom of a lake. This rock has regular strata, all horizontal, containing fossils of plants and fish and curiously-shaped specimens of sea animals. The plants appear like our fruit and forest trees. There are ferns and palms. The fishes seem to be of species now extinct. (20MR 296.1)
A large flat stone was shown us with distinct specimens of fish and curious leaves. The proprietor told us [that] on a previous trip he brought these two large rocks on horseback eight miles. The rock did not look so far, but he said that was the distance to get access to it. There were on these spots of slabs of rock, feathers of birds and other curiosities plainly seen. We look with curious interest upon rocks composed of sandstone in perfectly horizontal strata containing most interesting remains. These bluff rocks assume most curious and fantastic forms, as if chiseled out by the hand of art. (20MR 296.2)
There are in appearance lofty domes and pinnacles and fluted columns. These rocks resemble some cathedral of ancient date, standing in desolation. The imagination here has a fruitful field in which to range. In the vicinity of these rocks are moss agate patches. To stand at a distance from these rocks, wonderfully shaped, you may imagine some ruined city, bare, desolate, but bearing their silent history to what once was. (20MR 296.3)
We pass on quite rapidly to the Devil’s Gate, a canyon where the sweet water has worn through the granite ridge. The walls are about 300 feet high. The water runs slowly, pleasantly moving over the rocks. We pass on while the mountaintops rise perpendicular towards heaven, covered with perpetual snows, while other mountaintops, apparently horizontal, are seen. Here in passing we get some view of the beauty and grandeur of the scenery in groups of mountains clothed with pines. (20MR 296.4)
In Echo Canyon are rocks curiously representing works of art, [for example] the Sentinel Rock. The average height of all the rocks of Echo Canyon, is from 600 to 800 feet. The scenery here is grand and beautiful. We see holes or caves worn by storm and wind, where the eagles build their nests. This is called Eagle Nest Rock. Here the king of birds finds a safe habitation to rear its young. The ruthless hand of man cannot disturb them. (20MR 296.5)
We come to the Thousand Mile Tree. Here hangs the sign giving us the distance from Omaha. Here we 297pass the wonderful rocks called the Devil’s Slide. It is composed of two parallel walls of granite standing upon their edges. Between these two walls are about 14 feet. They form a wall about 800 feet running up the mountain. This looks as if formed by art and placed in position, the rocks are so regularly laid. This is a wonderful sight, but we reach Ogden and night draws on. (20MR 296.6)
Sabbath. All is quiet. We read our Bibles and write. Close by us sits the notable Stokes, who murdered Fisk. (20MR 297.1)
Our last night on the cars was spent in sleeping some and in viewing the scenery. The moon was shining clear and bright. Mary was resting upon her elbow looking out the window much of the night. We passed Cape Horn in the light of the moon. The wintry scene in the Sierra Nevadas, viewed by the light of the moon, is grand. We look 2,000 feet below. The soft light of the moon shines upon the mountain heights, revealing the grand pines and lighting up the canyons. No pen or language can describe the grandeur of this scene. We prefer to enjoy this grand sight rather than to sleep. (20MR 297.2)
In the morning, the last morning upon the cars, we rejoice that we have nearly completed our week’s trip, protected by a kind Providence and receiving neither accident or harm, and hardly weariness. We are nearly to our journey’s end. (20MR 297.3)
We learn we arrive in Oakland at eleven o’clock. As we near Sacramento we see the green grass, [and] the fruit trees loaded with fragrant blossoms. We ride out of the winter of [the] Sierra Nevadas into summer. We find our friends waiting for us at the depot. We came an entirely new route from Sacramento, which brought us in earlier. We met Edson and Emma with joy, also Lucinda and other friends. (20MR 297.4)
We find in market new potatoes. The very day I arrived we rode out and gathered nice new turnip greens. We are beginning to get used to Oakland a little now. But it has been raining last night and this forenoon. (20MR 297.5)
Lizzie, I meant to have copied this off but have not time. Please put in Clara’s hands, and tell her to copy it for you and arrange it in order. It is a beautiful morning. Wish it may be as pleasant with you. (20MR 297.6)
Much love to my dear sister Lizzie, (20MR 297.7)
From her twin sister, (20MR 297.8)
Ellen G. White (20MR 297)
Will you inquire of Mrs. Dr. Larkins if she is free to engage in the Crystal Springs Sanitarium? If she should, make arrangements for her to do so. This institution is located in St. Helena. She may have seen it. It has almost every advantage healthwise, but needs physicians who understand their business. I go to St. Helena next week and then will write again. What wages will she require? 298Tell her to address me at Oakland, California, Pacific Press. (20MR 297.9)
I hope you are doing well. I would be so glad to see you. May the Lord lead you to put your entire trust in him. He loves you and will delight to bless you if you will come to him for light and strength. Do, my sister, identify yourself with the people of the Lord. Stand in the ranks and under the banner of Jesus Christ. (20MR 298.1)
Good-bye. This must go to the office.—Letter 6a, 1880. (20MR 298.2)
Ellen G. White Estate (20MR 298)
Silver Spring, Maryland, (20MR 298)
January 11, 1990. (20MR 298)
Entire Letter. (20MR 298)
Manuscript Release No. 1483 consists of two E.G. White documents, Letter 6a, 1880, and Letter 6b, 1880. The second letter, Letter 6b, 1880, is derived from the first letter, Letter 6a, 1880, but contains additions, deletions, and rewording, as edited by Ellen White for publication in The Review and Herald, June 17, 1880. (20MR 298)
After I left you Monday, I was very sick. Tuesday was nervous and suffering with headache, unable to sit up. Tuesday night we arrived at Council Bluffs, where we stopped to visit Sister Milnor. After walking about half a mile, found her not at home. I had not tasted food through the day and was still suffering with nervous headache. (20MR 299.1)
We walked back to a hotel, the nearest one we could find. It was not very promising. We were shown to our rooms, two very small rooms above the kitchen, where the scent of the kitchen cookery had full access, without a current of air to purify it from disgusting smells. There was no current of air to purify it from disgusting, poisonous effluvia. There was but one little window in each room. If I had not heretofore been thoroughly disgusted with pork, I should have been now, for with the nauseating smell of pork, ham, cabbage, and all kinds of scents confined in the room, I could scarcely breathe. I became sick and faint, but my good Mary opened the window as far as possible after piling our baggage and the chairs on the bed, and by close management moved our bed so that the head of it came close by the window. The bed being quite comfortable, we slept well and felt refreshed in the morning, notwithstanding unpleasant odors in bedroom and bedding. (20MR 299.2)
We took the transfer car next morning to Omaha. We enjoyed our breakfast very much from our well-provided lunch basket. (20MR 299.3)
We waited here several hours and had some opportunity to see character in its different angles all the way from four years up to 24. There came into the depot a woman about forty years old, followed by a flock of children. One boy about ten years old was hard to keep still, [and] went out on the platform. His mother went after him, reproving, scolding, and dragging him in, he resisting at every step. She pushed him into the seat beside her with violence, bringing his head with considerable force against the seat, really hurting the lad. Then came screech after screech, equaled only by the engine’s blast. (20MR 299.4)
The mother threatened him, but to no purpose. He was in for a regular time as his explosive, maddened cries filled the rooms, calling the attention of gentlemen and ladies, while the mother threatened 300in no gentle language. She might as well have talked to a stone. She was desperate. I urged our daughter, M. K. White, to induce him to stop if she had to hire him, but it was no use. He had grit and perseverance. When he became too tired to screech longer, then he lowered his voice to a monotonous long-drawn-out wail just for the purpose of persevering and being revengeful. Here the mother’s countenance was a study. She looked vexed, but I [contend], she was as much at fault as her boy. The boy was restless and wilful and stubborn; she was passionate. (20MR 299.5)
I conversed some with the mother. She stated that the boy refused to come in and threw himself full length upon the platform to provoke her. She then took him by force and dragged him in and said, “Oh, if I only had him alone in some place, I would pound him well for this behavior.” I said, “That would not change his inward feelings. Violence would only raise his combativeness and make him still worse.” I told her the more calm a mother can keep at such times, however provoking the conduct of her children, the better she maintains her influence and dignity as a mother and the more easily will they be controlled. She assented that it might be so. (20MR 300.1)
I inquired how many children she had. She replied, “Eleven.” Then pointing to two pretty, bright-looking little girls, said, “These are my youngest—one is six and the other four. My eldest are grown-up boys.” She said that they as a family were on their way from Iowa City to Nebraska, where there is plenty of land and work for their children. They intended to locate there. Not a bad idea to give these high-toned, sharp, active boys employment; there is nothing so beneficial as plenty to do to keep children from being ruined with the temptations and allurements of evil. (20MR 300.2)
It was plain to be seen that the mother was fretful, impatient, harsh, and severe. The scold was expressed in her countenance. What wonder then that the children should be unsubmissive and insubordinate. These children and the husband showed they felt the mother’s power that permitted no liberty of will. She would jerk one, fret at another, twitch about another. (20MR 300.3)
This mother’s mode of management set my mind on a study. She forced them to self-assertion in various improper ways, thus showing that her management was a sorry failure. If she had oiled the machinery with patience and self command, as every mother should, if she had possessed the right spirit, she would not have aroused the combative spirit of her children. All this mother seemed to know of government was that of brute force. She was threatening and intimidating and reproving and scolding. Her 301youngest children seemed to have a fear of stirring, others looked hard and defiant, while others looked ashamed and distressed at the exhibition they were making. (20MR 300.4)
I longed to have some conversation with that mother. I wanted to tell her [that] if she realized her responsibility she would not have pursued the course which she did in that depot. Her burdens were necessarily heavy, but how much more weighty she was making them by her lack of self-control. Every harsh word, every passionate blow, would be reflected back upon her. If she was kind and patient and calm in her discipline, the power of her example for good would be seen in the deportment of her children. How much she needed the Christian graces, the help of Jesus, to mold the minds and fashion the characters of her children. Such mothers will gain no souls to the fold of Christ. They train, they rule, they ruin, but do not bless and save. (20MR 301.1)
We purchased our sleeping car tickets to Ogden, which cost sixteen dollars. We should be two days and a half and two nights in reaching there. We obtained two lower berths but we were told that had we applied the day before, we could not have been accommodated, but the travel was light from Omaha that day, which was much in our favor. (20MR 301.2)
We found ourselves and numerous baskets and satchels well disposed of in an elegant palace sleeping car. Only seventeen passengers in our car, no babies, no invalids, no one to cry, “Please close the ventilators. Will you shut down that window.” We were at perfect liberty to open and close windows for our convenience. (20MR 301.3)
There was nothing in the scenery to especially engage our attention until Wednesday night but the prairie fires. These looked grand and awful. In the distance, while the train moved slowly onward, we saw the long belts of lurid flame stretching miles across the prairies as a wall of fire. As the wind rises, the flames leap higher and become more grand, brightening the desolate plains with their awful light. We see, farther on, hay stacks and settlers’ homes guarded with deep furrows broken by the plow to protect them from the fire. We saw dark objects in the distance guarding their homes from the fire fiend. (20MR 301.4)
Thursday morning we arose from our berths refreshed with sleep. At eight o’clock we took a portion of the food liberally furnished us by our friends and the sanitarium, and enjoyed our breakfast. I limited myself to but one meal per day during the entire journey. When the train stopped for any length of time at stations, we improved the opportunity by taking a brisk walk. Generally in approaching Cheyenne and Sherman I have difficulty in breathing, but did not realize any inconvenience 302this time. We reached Cheyenne Thursday noon, but as it was snowing and cold we did not walk much that day. (20MR 301.5)
In nearing Cheyenne we were interested by a view of the Rocky Mountains. Soon dark clouds obstructed our view, and as we neared Laramie we had a hail storm. Occasionally the sunlight would break through clouds, striking full upon the mountaintops. At half past three, “All aboard” was sounded, and again we were moving onward. (20MR 302.1)
The train moved slowly and smoothly, giving the passengers a good chance to view the scenery. An additional engine is added to help draw the train up the summit of Sherman. We reached Sherman about six o’clock and had no inconvenience in breathing. The elevation between Cheyenne and Sherman is 2,001 feet, the distance nearly 33 miles. The two great engines puff and blow as though they had difficulty in breathing. At length the summit is reached and the descent begins. (20MR 302.2)
Two miles west of Sherman we cross Dale Creek bridge, one of the most wonderful sights on the route. It looks frail and incapable of sustaining the weight of so ponderous a train, but it is built of iron and is really very substantial. It is 650 feet long, 130 feet high. A beautiful, silvery stream is winding its way in the depths below. And as we look down upon the dwellings they seem like mere pigeon houses in the distance. (20MR 302.3)
As we pass rapidly down the grade through the snow sheds and granite cuts into the great Laramie plains, we get a full view of the Diamond Peaks of the Medicine Bow Range. Their sharp-pointed summits reach heavenward, while their sides and the rugged hills around them are covered with timber. When the atmosphere is clear, the Snowy Range can be distinctly seen clothed in robes of perpetual snow. A chilliness creeps over you as you look upon them so cold, so cheerless, yet there is an indescribable grandeur about them. (20MR 302.4)
But night draws her sable curtains around us, and we are preparing to occupy our berths for the night. The wind was blowing strong against us, sending the smoke of our heating stove into every crevice and opening in the car. I slept, but awoke with a suffocating scream. I found myself laboring hard for breath, and the coal gas was so stifling I could not sleep for hours. This was the most disagreeable night that I had on the journey. In the morning felt better than I had expected to feel. We again made a nice hot broth of our pressed chicken. Our two tables were prepared, one in each seat, and we ate our nice breakfast with thankful hearts. The porter, well filled [with silver donations], was very accommodating, bringing lunch baskets, 303making room, and depositing our baggage with all pleasantness. (20MR 302.5)
We are known on the train. One says, “I heard you speak at such a meeting.” The book agent, a fine young man from Colorado, heard me speak in the mammoth tent in Boulder City. He was a resident of Denver. We have agreeable chats with one and another. (20MR 303.1)
Moving slowly over the great American desert, with not an object in view except sagebrush and distant mountain peaks, we seem much like a ship at sea. (20MR 303.2)
The massive train, headed by our faithful steam horse moving along so grandly, seems like a thing of life. You look back occasionally from the rear of the cars upon the straight track, with scarcely a curve for hundreds of miles, while wilderness and desolation meet you whichever way you may look. (20MR 303.3)
Passing Truckee, [This probably should read “Cheyenne.” Mrs. White did not write the letter at one sitting, and at times flashed back to describe earlier events.] we entered snow sheds. From light to darkness and from darkness to light was the only change for miles. I had been growing stronger as I neared Colorado. We entered one hour before Cheyenne. We were telegraphed, soon after leaving Omaha, for seats in the car for California, and our seats were assigned us just as we were located in the car we left; therefore, it is always best to secure good seats in the palace car from Omaha, for that secures you good seats all the trip. Now the tickets have to be purchased at the ticket office before your baggage can be taken into the car. We are all settled some time before the sun has passed out of sight beyond the mountains. (20MR 303.4)
At Ogden we have additional passengers. A tall, dignified gentleman enters, accompanied by his wife and little daughter. His own hair is as black as the raven’s wing, but his wife’s is as white as snow and hangs in ringlets, giving her a singular appearance. This man is the great temperance worker, Mr. McKenzie. He has established an institution in the east to treat inebriates and is now visiting Colorado for the same purpose, having already obtained pledges to the amount of several thousand dollars. Seeing us all writing, he had some curiosity to know who we were and what we were doing, and so introduced himself to us. While seated by our side, he composed some verses upon that evening’s sunset, which we will here copy. This celebrated temperance lecturer, we doubt not, has accomplished a great amount of good in the world, but he is an inveterate tobacco user, and we venture the assertion that if he would reform on this point his usefulness would be greatly increased. (20MR 303.5)
Scenery viewed on Friday while nearing Ogden. At Green River is the place where specimens of fossils, petrifactions, and general natural curiosities are seen. Shells and wood in a petrified state can be purchased for a trifle. There is a high, projecting rock, in appearance like a tower, and there are twin rocks of gigantic proportions. The appearance of these rocks is as though some great temple once stood here and their massive pillars were left standing as witness of their former greatness. (20MR 304.1)
There is a rock called Giant’s Club, and in proportion it is a giant. It rises almost perpendicularly and it is impossible to climb up its steep sides. This is one of nature’s curiosities. I was told that its composition bears evidence of its once having been located in the bottom of a lake. This rock has regular strata, all horizontal, containing fossils of plants and of fish and curiously-shaped specimens of sea animals. The plants appear like our fruit and forest trees. There are ferns and palms. The fishes seem to be of species now extinct. (20MR 304.2)
A large flat stone was shown us in which were distinct specimens of fish and curious leaves. The proprietor told us [that] on a previous trip he had brought these two large rocks on horseback eight miles. The rock did not look so far, but he said that was the distance to get access to it. There were in these split off slabs of rock, feathers of birds and other curiosities, which were plainly to be seen. We look with curious interest upon rocks composed of sandstone in perfectly horizontal strata containing most interesting remains. These rocks assume most curious and fantastic shapes, as if chiseled out by the hand of art. (20MR 304.3)
There are in appearance lofty domes and pinnacles and fluted columns. These rocks resemble some cathedral of ancient date, standing in desolation. The imagination here has a fruitful field in which to range. In the vicinity of these rocks are moss agates. When standing at a distance from these wonderful-shaped rocks, you may imagine some ruined city, bare and desolate, but bearing their silent history to what once was. Close beside us sits Stokes, the murderer of Fisk. Having retreated to the mountains, he is actively engaged in the mining business. (20MR 304.4)
We pass on quite rapidly to the Devil’s Gate, a canyon worn through the granite by the actions of water. The walls of the canyon are about 300 feet high, and at its bottom a beautiful stream flows slowly and murmuringly over the rocks. We pass on while the mountaintops rise perpendicularly toward heaven. They are covered with perpetual snows, while other mountaintops, apparently horizontal, are seen. In passing we get some view of the beauty and grandeur 305of the scenery in groups of mountains dotted with pines. (20MR 304.5)
Soon we enter Echo Canyon. The rocks look as if formed by art and placed in position, so regularly are they laid. The average height of all the rocks in this canyon is from 600 to 800 feet. The scenery here is grand and beautiful. We see great caves worn by storm and wind, where the eagles build their nests. One is called Eagle Nest Rock. Here the king of birds finds a safe habitation in which to rear its young where the ruthless hand of man cannot disturb them. (20MR 305.1)
Here we come to the Thousand Mile Tree, on which hangs a sign giving us the distance from Omaha. And a little further on we pass the wonderful rocks called the Devil’s Slide. This is composed of two parallel walls of granite standing upon their edges, with about 14 feet of space between. They form a wall about 800 feet long, running up the side of the mountain. This looks as if formed by art and placed in position, so regularly are they laid. This is a wonderful sight, but we reach Ogden and night draws on. (20MR 305.2)
Our last night on the train was spent in sleeping and in viewing the scenery in the clear bright light of the moon. We passed Cape Horn in the light of the moon. The wintry scene in the Sierra Nevadas, viewed in the light of the moon, is grand. We can look 2,000 feet below. The soft light of the moon shines upon the mountain heights, revealing the grand pines and lighting up the canyons. No pen or language can describe the grandeur of such a scene. We preferred to enjoy this [rather than] to sleep. (20MR 305.3)
In the morning, the last morning upon the cars, we rejoice that we have nearly completed our week’s trip, protected by a kind Providence and receiving neither accident or harm, and hardly weariness. We are nearly to our journey’s end. (20MR 305.4)
We learn that we arrive in Oakland at eleven o’clock. As we near Sacramento we see the green grass, [and] the fruit trees loaded with fragrant blossoms. We ride out of the winter of [the] Sierra Nevadas into summer. We find our friends waiting for us at the depot. We came on an entirely new route from Sacramento, which brought us in earlier. We met Edson and Emma with joy, also Lucinda and other friends. (20MR 305.5)
We find in market new potatoes. The very day I arrived we rode out and gathered nice new turnip greens. We are beginning to get used to Oakland a little now. But it has been raining all the forenoon and last night as well.—Ellen G. White. (20MR 305.6)
I hope you are doing well. I would be so glad to see you. May the Lord bless you and lead you to put your trust in him entirely. He loves you and will delight to bless you if you will come to him for light and 306strength. Do, my sister, identify yourself with the people of God. Stand in the ranks and under the banner of Jesus Christ. Much love to my dear sister, Lizzie, from her twin sister, (20MR 305.7)
Ellen G. White.—Letter 6b, 1880. (20MR 306)
Ellen G. White Estate (20MR 306)
Silver Spring, Maryland, (20MR 306)
January 11, 1990. (20MR 306)
Entire Letter. (20MR 306)