STEPHEN Eo WEEKS cuss OF 1886 ; pa D. THE JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY yeiRAW OF THE UNIVERSimY OF NdDEffl CAMDUNA ME WEEKS C(D)IL]LECTni(D)N "*■ '>m wm^ ^^^^;^^^^- UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL ■■i 00032195945 FOR USE ONLY IN THE NORTH CAROLINA COLLECTION Form No. A -368 ADDISON COFFIN. Life and Travels OF ADDISON COFFIN WRITTEN BY HIMSELF CLEVELAND, O. WiiiiiiAM G. Hubbard 1897 Copyrighted by The Girls' Aid Committee of North Carolina Yearly Meeting of Friends. 1897. GIRLS' AID COMMITTEE North Carolina Yearly Meeting of Friends. .. OBJECT ,,. To assist worthy girls in obteiining an education at Guil- ford College, by furnishing a suitable home for such as are willing to board themselves and by assisting them in paying their tuition. Money required for home, six thousand dollars. Fi\e hundred dollars already given. The work has been in oper- ation in cottages ten years. About one hundred girls ha\c thus been assisted. Over $8,000 have been spent in the work. There are se\eral hundred girls who ha\e no otlier means of obtaining an education. Cost of Board in Cottages, per month, 84.00 Room Rent and Fuel, per term, 1.25 Stationery and Books, per term, So.OO to 5.00 Society Fees, per term, 1.00 College privileges open to residents. Location for Home gix-en by the Board of Trustees of Guilford College. MARY M. HOBBS, Trcas. of Com. Guilford College, X. C. This work was undertaken at the earnest request of several friends of the author, and by him was donated to the Girls' Aid Committee of North Caro- lina Yearly Meeting of Eriends, with the hope that in Grod's hand it might be the means of procuring a com- fortable and satisfactory home for girls who are en- deavoring to educate themselves. In sending it forth upon its mission we have the assurance that while the cause for which it is published will receive material aid from all who purchase the book, they in turn will find both entertainment and information, and will receive only benefit by contact with the spirit of one so thor- oughly good and true as he who here gives us his life's story. Mary M. Hobbs, O? behalf of the Girls Aid Committee. ^ PREFACE. For sometime past many of my companions of early life have solicited me to write a history of my life, and my knowledge of and connection with the Underground Railroad, as I am now the last survivor of those who entered the service of that mysterious institution in or previous to 1835. The thought of appearing as an author or writer had not entered my mind at this period of life; I had not kept a diary, or even notes of the passing events, always depending on memory for reminiscences of the past. My memory has become a wonder to many people, and it is the impression it has made that prompts the request of many for me to write a biog- raphy. In regard to memory, it is but just to say that it is not universal in its capacity ; things in which I am interested, things that are striking, things that touch and arouse sympathy, sorrow, joy, anger, disgust, ha- tred, hope, and fear; things that arouse, excite, or deeply impress; things that inspire, exalt, and refine, etc., require no effort on my part to remember; will- ing or unwilling they fix themselves upon my memory, (7) 8 PREFACE. and cannot be forgotten. This peculiarity has come down to me through a long line of tribal heredity from pre-historic times, known in the past as second sight, and the gifts of the bards. My ability to locate and I'emember places was also' very good, which made me peculiarly fitted for the dangerous position of con- ductor on the Underground Railroad. I was not above the average in the athletic sports of tlie time, but had great powers of endurance, could ^'out wind" in running any boy or man in the neighborhood, was stout, but lubberly till nearly grown, then became active and s\vift on foot, which gave me marked abil- ity for my dangerous life. I also found it necessary to assume and cultivate odd ways and odd ideas, in order the better to conceal my real character and dan- gerous employment. To some extent I was cut oil from much of the social enjoyment common among my fellows, my peculiaiities sometimes made me un- popnlar with my lady associates and school mates, this was wounding to inner sensitiveness and caused me to shed many bitter tears, but above all and throngh all there was a conviction and o'ermastering impnlse in my heart that always said, ^^Go forward, fear not, I am with thee." The threadbare escapes, the feats of agility in running, the doors that were opened for escape when all seemed closed in, and it appeared as though T won Id pay the forfeit by a y\o- PREFACE. 9 lent death, are too startling for even this generation, and as they are not essential to the upbuilding of hu- manity, will soon be buried with me. Now that age and infirmity are weakening my faculties, the memories of childhood come back with startling vividness; whole chapters could be written about the little family, incidents of every day life, and the details of one day at school would fill many pages; with the memory of the incidents come back the faces, forms, dress and voices of the children, mak- ing a wonderful panorama. It was so with my mother; in her ninety-third year she could call up the names of her childhood associates, give their histoi7, where and when they died, etc., etc., etc. So it is no great wonder that my memory is retentive and distinct; yet all through life I have felt a conscious defeet in many ways, and many times would gladly have exchanged my memory for other abilities that I lacked. mTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. It is becoming papular in writing biographies to give the genealogy of the person and family^ Ac- cordingly I will give a brief sketch of my ancestry as kept in the family record on the Island of Nan- tucket, and as found among the old records of South- ern Sweden in i^orthern Europe. My father, Vestal Coffin, was the son of William, who was the son of Samuel, who was the son of John, who was the son of Tristram Coffin, who was one of a company of nine who, in 1660, purchased the Island of Xan tucket from the Indians, the deed being signed by two chiefs, Wanackmamack and Nickan(X>se. Beyond Tristram Coffin the line is unbroken back to Sir Richard Coffin, who came to England from Nor- mandy with William, the Conqueror. Then still back beyond Sir Richard it c^n l)e traced to the ar- rival of the Danites in Denmark in the second cen- tury, and through the Danites through the wandei*- ings of the ten tribes of Israel to Samaria in 72(5 B. C, and then back to Abraham. From the sixth to the tenth century the Coffins (11) 12 LIFE AND TRAVELS bore an active part in all the conquests of the old Viking kings and rovers who terrorized Western En- rope for many centuries. Mv mother's maiden name was Alethea Fluke, a direct descendant of the Albanoids (ATOite Race; of Ireland, the last of the prehistoric race. When the first colony of Hebrews came to Ireland .1200 B. C. the Albanoids were in possession of the island^ and had been for an unknown period; they were highly civilized, had a regular alphabet and written language, and knew many arts unkno\\m to the He- brews— who were supposensequently was not four jeam old when my father died, yet I can remember his foiin and face, sometimes with, strik- ing vividness, and in my dreams am still a child as v\^hen he was alive. He ajid my mother little thought 16 LIFE AND TRAVELS that mj memory was at that time taking impres- sions of words and deeds; many times in after years mother would be astonished at my re- citing events with unerring precision that happened when a mere infant in age; but dwelHng on this part of my life seems bordering on the supernatural, so I will only mention one other item here. I learned to read looking at the words as my sister would read in a book; learned the words before I knew how to speli the most simple ones, and the result was I never did learn tx) spell anything like ordinary people, and in our literary societies it was next to impossible for any but my immediate asso(iiates to decipher my compo- sitions. CHAPTER FIRST. Events of Early Life. My father was born near New Garden, Guilford county, X. C, in 1702, and died in 1826 in the house in which he was born, and on his birthday, October 10th. His mother, Elizabeth (Vestal) Coffin, was left a widow with four small children, one daughter and three sons, who grew to man and womanhood under many privations common to the lot of the widow and the fatherless of that age of southern civilization. At, an early age my father entered the anti-slavery move- ment, and his ready, natural ability soon brought him to the front. When Benjamin Lundy visited North Cai'olina in 1816 he was among the first to join the Manumission Society organized by that celebrated man. In 1818 he was the only man who had the courage to attack the then domineering slave power in the South. It came about in this way. A young free negro, named Benjamin Benson, was kidnaped in the State of Delaware, and brought to Greensboro, where he was sold f/> a very wealthy and influential slave-ow^ner named Thompson. A slave owned by (17) 18 LIFE AND TRAVELS General Hamilton learned the facts concerning Ben- jamin Benson, and gave the information to my father, who interviewed Benson, then wrote to Delaware, and got sufficient evidence to get out a writ for Thompson requiring him to produce Benson and show cause why he should not have his fi^eedom. The officer who served the writ gave opportunity for Thompson to conceal Benson, and on the hearing denied ever having such a negro in his possession. The case was dis- missed and that night Benson was run off secretly to Georgia and sold. This notorious outrage on law and justice caused much excitement and intensified the spirit of opposition to slavery. My father was now joined by Dr. George Swain and Enoch Macy, and determined to push the caso to the end. They wrote again to Delaware and en- listed the anti-slavery men there to the extent that the State Legislature made an appropriation of money for expense, and made my father and his two friends l^al agents to push the case, and sent a man to iden- tify Benjamin Benson. In the meantime, the slave of General Hamilton, known as Hamilton's Saul, had been secretly listening and learning all the plans of Thomj^son and the slave powder, which information was invaluable in the case. When all was ready, another writ was sei-ved, in which it was ordered that lienson should Ixr pi'o- OF ADDISON COFFIN. 19 duoed in open court. This brought things to a crisis. Thompson had to go to Georgia, where the man to whom he had sold the negro made him pay $1600 before he would give him up. At the trial Benson was mixed up with a score of negToes to test the man from Delaware, but he identified him at sight. The evidence was so conclusive that the negro was set at liberty at once, and he returned to his home and cor- responded with my father up to the time of his death. This case naturally placed my father in the front rank of anti-slavery men, and he was an object of hatred among the more violent and vindictive slave- holders. Seemingly, without being conscious of how it came about, he was expected to do all the danger- ous work, to take all the responsibility and leadership ; others were ready and mlling to share the cost, do all the business, fetch and carry, if he would be the leader in the hours of trial. In my History of Friends in North Carolina I ,^ ^-^ give the origin of the Underground Railroad, and will /^^^^T. not repeat it here, excepting to say, that father origi- ^ nated and operated the first of the kind in America, in 1819. His cousin, Levi Coffin, who in after years became famed as an Abolitionist, took his first les- sons under my father, and many were the secret con- ferences they held after night, never meeting in the 2 20 LIFE AND TRAVELS same place the seeond time, to prevent espionage or betrayal. A negro named John Dimery was freed by his master in the lower part of the State; he married a freed woman, who had been owned by a neighbor. They came up to New Gai*den for safety, where they lived in peace for several years, and liad seven chil- dren. The old master of John died; immediately two of his sons came secretly to Xew Garden on pre- tense of buying stock; they located John Dimery's house, stopped over night at a near neighbor's; some- time after midnight they slipped quietly out, went to the house, called Dimery out and pretended to have l>een hunting and were lost. Xo sooner was he out of the house than he was seized and a desperate struggle ensued; the wife, Aunt Sally, ran out, but was knocked down, almost senseless; then Dimery shouted to hi^ oldest daughter to run for Mr. Coffin, my father, which she did like a wild deer. Father had just step- ped out to get wood to start a fire; without stopping for coat or hat he ran at full speed, providentially meeting Isaac White, a special friend. He just said, ^^Come," and they both ran like the wind. The kid- napers had finally overpowered Dimery and taken him to the neighbor's, bound securely. In spite of threats, Dimery told the neighbor that Mr. Coffin would soon be there and begged their protection. The kidnapers OF ADDISON COFFIN. 21 and neighbor weire ready to oome to blows, when father and Isaac White nislied in; then the scene changed; the kidnapers were told that tliey would be taken before the nearest magistrate and prosecuted for their crime. This brought them to a standstill, and while they were debating the case, the lady of the house had been quietly untying the rope, and before any one knew it Dimery sprang out and made for the woods;. the kidnapei-s rushed after him, calling a large dog and setting him after the fugitive, but when the dog came near, Dimery clapped his hands and hallooed as though there was game ahead; the dog went tearing into the woods, and the fugitive close after, when they both disappeared. Father and Isaac White now renewed their threats, of aiTest, which so alarnied the men that they soon mount-ed their horses and galloped out of the neighborhood and were seeii no more. John Dimery was started on the Under- ground Railroad that night and soon landed at Hich- mond, Indiana, where he worked and sent money +o his family for their support for two years, and then had them sent to him. There was mrvre of this kind of business done ai that period than in assisting- real fugitive slaves. In 1772 the friends of North Carolina freed their slaves, as did many Methodists and other conscientious peo- ple. The number amounted to thousands thus lib- 22 LIFE AND TRAVELS era ted, and it was frequently the case that heirs would try to re-enslave those freed people ; this constant har- assing and kidnaping finally di-ove thousands of the negroes across the Ohio river into free territory. The mountaineers in Virginia were so used to seeing ne- groes going westward that it wa^ less dangerous for fugitives to escape that way than through Kentucky. After my father's death many fugitives contin- ued to come to the old home, and my mother would advise and counsel with them as time and opportunity offered, until brother Alfred and I were old enough to take the post of danger our father occupied; but this is anticipating history, and we will go back to ■earlier days. My mother died November 3, 1891. Soon after her death. Dr. Nereus Mendenhall of Guilford Col- lege, wrote a short aucconnt of her life for the ^'.Guil- ford Collegian,^' which was copied in "Ohristinn Worker'- for January 14, 1892, which may come in place here. "Alethea Coffin was born at Big Spring, two miles west of Greensboro, Guilford county, N". C, on the 16th of April, 1798. Her husband's name was Vestal Coffin; her marriage with him was on the 27th of November, 1817. In the fall of 1826 they were both sick, and up(m his death she was left with four small children, the oldest eight years old, the young- ALETHEA COFFIN. OF ADDISON COFFIN. 25 est two. Greatly weakened by sickness and the shock given by her husband's death, the fall work not done, the winter clothing not prepared, com not gatli- ered, the prospect before her was, indeed, a gloomy one. Some of her children yet remember many a sad day of that winter; many a time of shivering by a small fire, the mother sick, the oldest boy hardly able to carry wood, the daughter not able to do much in the way of cooking, no wonder that sometimes they all cried until late at night. "It was in this dark winter that the Lord a.n- swered her prayers for help. Ever after she never doubted, never faltered, never stopped for any mis- fortune, failure in crops, loss of stock or betrayal of trust. She never hesit-ated to divide her scanty means with the poor and hc^meless; many a sick and homeless boy was taken in. washed, nursed and cared fox, clothed with the garments of her own children, whiie she washed and mended his, "Her own faith and trust in God were the means of drawing to her for advice those in darkness and discourageme^nt, especially the widows, the fatherless and the motherless. Her education was in advance of the women of her generation, and the severe school- ing of necessity made her a wonder of economy and business management, hence she was consulted by hei neighbors in making calculations in warping, striping, 26 LIFE AND TRAVELS reeling and all the arts of cloth, making and house- hold matters; and to this advanced education and home ability, her children wei^ indebted for much of their education; they were started early in general reading; all had read the Bible through before they wer sixteen. ''The nullification excitement in 1830 caused many of her neighbors to move to Indiana. She and her children entered into the spirit of the emigra- tion, and measures were taken to secui-e a home in this ^Far West.' With her limited means it seemed a hopeless task to save $100 to pay for 80 acres of land. The matter was presented to the Lord in prayer; the answer was, ^Gro,' and by rigid economy $50 was saved in two years, and Job Cofiin (brother-in-law), fur- nished the other $50 on long time, so in 1833 in com- pany \\dth Elihu and Jane Coffin and Aunt Rhoda Gurley — she putting in a horse as her part of the out- fit— she started to Indiana. Among the mouutains everything was so grand and new, she and Rhoda Gurley walked more than half the time, preferring it to being jolted in the wagon over the rough stones. At Richmond, Ind., she boiTOwed a saddle, took her horse, and set out to find her old neighboi-s 100 miles away. Alone, following the roads and by-ways, she found her old friends settled at Spiceland, in Henry county. Walnut Ridge in Hancock, and in White lick, OF ADDISON COFFIN. 27 in Hendricks comities, and tinallj reached lier old neighbor, Asahel Hnnt. He and other old neighbors turned out through the thick, tall forest, and soon found a lot of good land still vacant. Early nexi morning in a continuous rain, she set out for the Land Office ^at Orawforclsville, 25 miles further on. She entered the land, remained over night and the next day returned to Asahel Hunt's. Her joiu-ney was now accomplished, and she was the owner of a home in the free West. In the ride to Graw^forda- ville there were no roads, only a blazed horse path, with settlements sometimes five miles apart; yet the trip was made in safety with no fear of danger or accident, for she felt the presence of the Lord with her all the time. Resting and visiting a few days, she was ready to st-art on her long journey home. ''On arriving at Richmond she found Elihu Cof- fin ready to return but anxious to buy a very fine, large hoi'se if there was any w^ay to get him home. She told him if he would get a good saddle she would ride the horse; this he did at once, and she rode all the dis- tance from Richmond, Ind., to 'New Grarden, N". C, over 500 miles. She enjoyed the ride and stood the trip better than in the wagon. When it rain-ed she put on a waterproof overcoat and was safe from storm and blast. It was springtime, and to the day of her 28 LIFE AND TRAVELS death, that grand overland mountain ride was one of the bright spots in her memory. "She died on the land then purchased, and it was tlie only tract in Hendricks county that had not changed hands. The last tax receipt bore date a few days before her death in her own name. Her inten- tion was to move to Indiana in two or three years, but in the fall of 1833 at Xorth Carolina. Yearly Meeting she was appointed on the committee to consider and perfect a plan for New Garden Boarding-School, and becoming deeply interested in the school determined to stay and give her children some of the benefit of the school. Of this school she subsequently was ma- tron for some time, in which capacity her manage- ment was a model of carefulness and economy. After moving to Indiana in 1852, she was for nearly nine years assistant matron of Earlham College. This connection with the two colleges gave her a very large acquaintance, and at Earlham the children of the N'e^Y Garden Boarding-School pupils were often under hev care, and she would give them reminiscences of their parents, and tell more about them than they had ever known. "Though she attained a great age her hair did not turn grey, nor did her sight fail, as is usual ^\^th age. Up to ninety she could read ordinary print with- out glasses, and large print up to the time of her OF ADDISON COFFIN. 29 death. She conld not bear t(» he idle; if nothing else could be found for her tc^ do, she would get some wool or flax and sit down and spin thread and yam, and then knit it into stockings for presents to her grand- children. She would at other times take the prun- ing-sheai's a.nd go among tho fruits and grape vine?, or into the orchard, and take delight in trimming and pruning for hours at a time. Her long life as a far- mer made her an expert, at all kinds of work within her strengtli. ''She was not a birthright member of the Society of Friends, but joined them soon after her marriage. She attended Sandy Spring Meeting till 1817, when she removed to New Garden. ''About a year ago, when called upon by the His- torical Society of Henry and Wayue Counties, Ind., she was able to give the names of more than 300 fam- ilies that had moved from Guilford county to Indi- ana between 1805 and 1835. Did time and space permit, many interesting and thrilling incidents of her life might be dwelt upon ; as of the handkerchief given her in 1852, on her depajrt.ure for Indiana, as a keepsake by her friend Asenath Clark, which she sent to her son, Nathan H. Clark, with the message, 'The two mothers will soon be together again.' Also of the photograph, hundreds of which have been called for^ and more still in demand, a photograph 30 LIFE AND TRAVELS of herself sitting at work at her little spinning-wheel. Of the family reunion a year ago in which a gTeat^ great-granddaughter was presented to her by the child's grandmothea\ A grandmother presenting her grandchild to her grandmother, a rather impress! v-j scene. Again, of the discourse which in her 90th year she made to a large company of small children on Children's Day; when she stepped out before them, she drew from her pocket a primer alx)ut four inches square; holding it up she said: 'This is my first primer, bought in 1804;' then gave to the little folks a deeply interesting account of education from that day up to 1890, the whole discourse a surprise, not only to others, but herself, for she was carried back to child- hood again, and looking along the life journey saw her- self, now old and worn with age, standing before tho little children and saw herself restored to childhood in them; but this sketch must come to a close. ''Her greatest objection to moving West was a wish that her remains might repose in N^ew Garden burial ground beside those of her husband, mother and daughter. Her son, Addison, promised her that if practicable her wish should be complied with. She gently passed away on the 3d of November, 1891, and her son with filial love and true to his promise made 40 yeai"s ago brought the remains and saw them deposited by those of her husband. The burial on the 5th was attended by the students and officers of Guilford Ool- OF ADDISON COFFIN. 31 lege and her old neighbors who still survived. Tes- timonials as to the excellence of her character were given by Mary C. Woody and Rufus P. King (and Kerens Mendeiihall, added), and the latter part of the 31st chapter of Proverbs was read as appropriate to the occasion." — Nereus Mendenhall, in Guilford Col- legian. In spite of hardship and privation, my sister and brother were strong and healthy, and we grew like other children, and mother's fund of knowledge helped to keep us interested and thus our minds were taken off the unpleasant struggle to make ends meet. We soon made conmion cause in all home interests, and resolved within our young hearts that we would make a living and one day be independent, not de- pendent ; and this resolve our favorite guardian. Uncle Job Coffin, always encouraged us in, and let no op- portunity slip to hre our zeal on that line of aspiration, and with his care, counsel and help we succeeded. As heretofore stated, my memory was a part of my inheritance, an inseparable part of myself, and in early infancy was active and gTew with my growth; but that other inheritance also manifested itself at an early date. At six yeai-s of age the tii'st clear, dis- tinctive manifestation came. I was alone in the or- chard, when suddenly I seemed surrounded by a soft, warm influence that seemed lifting me up in the arr, 32 LIFE AND TRAVELS then all at once an infinite expanse opened to my eyes, so fnll of wonderful, and to my young mind awful things, that I was teiTified, and ran screaming to the house. Mother met me and at firet sight comprehend- ed the terrible reality. Second-sight had come upon me, and it filled her mth sadness and suffering, for she knew too well by the tribal tradition that all who inherited it went to an early grave, unless they had an iron constitution. From that hour life to me was full of hidden teiTor; I was too young to comprehend the situation; every effort was now made by the few who knew about this condition to arrest the further development, and I had a sore, sad life of it until T was twelve years old. This strange clairvoyant state came more vividly upon me in sleep; then there was no limit; space and distance vanished, and for a time I could not shut out the awful scene. One time, when eight years old, mother went to see a dear friend, ^aomi Stephens, who had just been left a A\adow, leaving us children at home. After playing outdoors until tired, we went in to the fire; my younger brother and I lay down on the floor and went to sleep. Suddenly a vision opened to my mind ; I saw mother sitting weeping by ^aomi Stephens, who was wringing her hands as if her heart would break. It was over two miles away, yet I saw every feature, every movement and gesture of both. OF ADDISON COFFIN. 33 I sprang to my feot and started to run in a straight line to mother, and it was all my sister and brothei' conld do to overtake and liold me from running on, and the vision would not fade until mother returned and took me in her arms. That vision has never faded, it v\^as as I saw it; the two were sitting as I de- scribed at that very moment. In after yeai*s I took the bearing of the line 1 started to run, and it was as unerring as a surveyor could run a line, and yet I had not seen the place. Efforts were now redoubled to watch me at all times, and Uncle Job was untiring in filling my mind and taking my attention with stories of hunting, fishing, pioneer life, and getting me interested in learning to shoot at a mark, etc., etc. Uncle Joseph Hubbard, then quite old, did much in telling stories of hunting and travel, and with my own intense desire to escape such fearful things, the visitations became less fre- quent, and ceased altogether in their first intensity, though there has not been a year of my life in which I did not feel the influence, in what some would call hmirs of inspiration; to-day it is called mind-readims, and at times when these clairvoyant visions would have come, a remarkable consciousness comes over me that gives the mind-reading ability; but enough of this; this materialistic age has no faith in anything that it does not know; yet with my experi- 34 LIFE AND TRAVELS ence I can understand what gaye rise to the belief in the supernatural, and the power to the seers in the ohl Runic times, that became liereditarT in the course of many centuries. I inherited the condition, or gift, or what it may be called; if it had been cultivated, it would bave increased, and could have been turned to good or evil. My first day at school was in the spring of 1828, and it was a. bitter day to me, for all seemed strange and unnatural; the result was I cried nearly all day, A girl, some older, Betsey Portis, took pity on me and took me under her care and protection, for which I thanked her ever after. She lived until a few weeks ago (October 15, 1894), and died in peace. There were thirty-two children at school that day, and but three are now li^dng, Elam Benbow, Phebe Ross, and myself. The larger number emigrated West, and I have met their children in every state and territory north of the Ohio and west of the Mississippi River. I could read in a little primer, and it was some days before the teacher, Lewis Hobbs, found I did not know the letters of the alphabet, and he had hard work to get them fixed in my mind as at all essential to reading. From that time on thTOUgh boyhood T attended school two to three months each year, and as much of the teaching at that time developed mem- ory more than thought, I had no difficulty in stand OF ADDISON COFFIN. 35 ing well to the front in all things but spelling; was always foot in that; other l>oys and girls felt safe from being foot the '^last day of school," for they knew 1 would be there in my regular place. There was one branch I excelled in, that was geography; it w^as no trouble to locate and remember places and boundaries, and I early began reading histories in which I soon be- came interested, and have never grown w^eary up to this day. One time mother and a neighbor woman were talking on Scriptures and spoke of Caleb and Joshua as being the only men of six hundred thousand who reached the promised land; it so interested me that T began asking questions. Mother told me to read the Bible and I would find may things far more wonder- ful. I beg-an reading at once, and read every word dbefore the summer ended; though I could not pro- nounce half the names and many of the words cor- rectly, I got the substance clear and distinct, and that summer's reading was the foundation of my success in life, such as it has been. ,-,.•' The home life had its peculiar and special fea- tures; mother went out with her children to work on the farm in the day-time, and then all joined in the housew^ork at night, sometimes working till a late hour. Wlien frujt drying was in season we Would peel and cut. the fruit, at. night, and work in the fields in 36 LIFE AND TRAVELS the daj. Tli€ tii-st crop of com w€ cultivated our- selves, my bix>tiier held the plow, and I rode the horse; the horse knew as much about driving as I did, and more than one time I fell asleep and fell off. At nine years of age I began plowing alone, and did more or less of it for sixty yeare. In like manner necessity required me to leam all kinds of work at an early age. Thus in my youth, yea almost infancy, I par- took of the bitter lessons of life, for there seemed nothing ahead but hai-d labor; other boys of my ago who had fathers, could go hunting, fishing, swimming and enjoy other amusements, while with me it was work, work, work. At the end of forty years I was astonished and thankful to learn that those bitter les- sons were blessing's in disguise; for the schooling in childhood had prepared me to meet and overcome op- position, had made me an expert in many kinds of farm and mechanical labor, which gave me confi- dence and self-dependence, while my childhood asso- ciates, who had an easy time, were not prepare^l to meet the stern realities of everyday life, and many of them failed and went down in the struggle; though I remember those sore days of trial and heartache, and the bitterness is all gone, and a sweet memory now illuminates the clouds that hung over me then. In the latter part of the summer of 1835, an event occurred that had much to do with all my after OF ADDISON COFFIN. 37 life. 01(1 General Hamilton had died, and his slave, Solomon, or Saul, was sold to a slave dealer, Ike Weatherby, and taken to Southern Georgia and sold. It was he who had aided my father so much in secur- ing the freedom of Benjamin Benson, and he had also helped Cousin Levi Coffin in many similar cases. When Saur was taken south a heavy iron colar was ri\>eted around his neck, and he was chained in a coffle (a chain-gang of slaves). Saul w^as looked upon as a dangerous slave on account of his intelligence and judgment, so he was closely watched for a year by his new master, a.nd often chained at night. When the vigilance slackened he began planning his escape, and finally succeeded in eluding the surveillance of the overseer and driver. He had carefully noted the road a« he was taken south, had kept thie names of rivers and towns and many of the camps. When he escaped he had provision for a few days, so he pushed on each night Avith all his strength, and was making good headway when one day he was startled at the sound of bloodhounds, and he knew the danger at once. He was still strong and active, though past middle life, and was brave to a fault, so he armed himself with a good club and started to run in the hope of reaching a creek or river. After an hour's run he reached a large creek with steep banks, and too deep to wade, so he swam across and ran on again with some hope that 3 38 LIFE AND TRAVELS the horseman in pursuit could not easily cross the creek, and he could have a fair fight with the hounds. It proved as he thought; the hounds came to the creek and swam across, but the horsemen in pursuit could not cross, so went some distance up stream. In the meantime, the hounds came upon him, but he had chosen his position on a large stump about four feet high, from which he defended himself with the en- ergv of despair. Srt; and be- i^ides that town had become the headquarters of all the Underground Railroads, with Levi Coffin as pres- ident, hence my anxiety to reach that point, and it was with a swelling heart that I entered the town and found the depot. The reception given me by Cousin Levi Coffin and wife was as though a long absent son OF ADDISON COFFIN. 57 had returned Kome to see fatiier arid mother, and for many days it was a feast of souls. I could give the situation at the old home, and in turn take new les- sons in the new life and surroundings, for all, all was new. I was kindly received by all classes, and by both the anti-slavery and pro-slavery part of the people, for it was a time of intense excitement, both in church and state, though the anti-slavery party was in the polit- ical minority, they more than made it up in energy and ability, they were largely Nantucket emigrants from North Carolina, and the older ones were manu- missionists from the C/arolina scho<:>l of Benjamin Lundy, and being whale fishermen in the past, they were now fishers of men, and it was exceedingly inter- esting to hear the contending, (]el>ating, declaming, denouncing, \dlifying, swearing, and vulgarity that filled the community. It was still not uncommon foi' abolition speakers to be mobbed and abused; even ladies were grossly insulted by the ruffian pro-slavery element: egging speakers was common. Even to-day I look back to my first introduction into Hoosier politics with bewilderino- astonishment. The pro-slavery portion of the community treated me kindly, and seemev, which many 58 LIFE AND TRAVELS times put them to the blush by contrast. It was al- most universal for ministers of the gosj^el to run into the subject of slavery in all their sermons ; neighbors would stop work and argue pro and con across the fence; people traveling along the road would stop and argue the point; at mills, stores, shops, everywhere it was abolition, pro-slavery, nigger, amalgamation, nig- ger wives, and all other such words were fully indulgelitical turmoil there were a scor; of isms and ologies proclaimed abroad; mesmerism, Fourierism, phrenology, non-resistance, Grahamism, etc., etc. The whole country was like a huge pot in a furious state of boiling frothing over; and it would have taken more than human sagacity to have fore- seen the final or even probable end. Yet violent agi- tation did not prevent the steady gi-owth and develop- ment of the country, which was rapidly recovering from the panic of 1837 to 1839, everywhere new fields were beins: cleared, new houses built, large commo- dious bams were erected, orchards were being planted, good roads were being constructed from the interior to the Ohio and Wabash rivers. Chicago was begin- ning to be known as a place of trade, the Wabash and Erie canal was building, and when compared with I^orth Carolina, Virginia and Kentucky, what I saw was truly a wonderland to me, and I could feel new thoughts, new ideas, new aspirations entering my soul OF ADDISON COFFIN. 59 and opening up to me, a new life. I was, indeed, away from slavery, but not from its agitation and vehement discussion. Making Levi Coffin's home my stopping place 1 visited at least lifty of the old manumissionists, and enjoyed the kindlv hospitalitv. and took in new lessons of Hoosier life ; with the Whig and pro-slavery portion of the community, I was a welcome visitor for I could lead out on new lines of argument, and interest them in my Underground Kailroad experience in spite of their violent prejudices. On the second day of June, 1843, there was to be an abolition convention held at Dalton, a little villago in the northwest comer of Wayne County, and I was invited to go. In company with Levi Coffin, William Starbuck, Daniel Pucket and Dr. Henry Way, 1 started on the interesting trip, listening with eager at- tention to the conversation of those stanch representa- tives of the coming revolution. When we reached the convention I was pleased with its make-up, there were about two hundred people assembled from the neighboring counties, all substantial looking men and women, four-fifths of them Carolinians and of Caro- lina descent, and over half bore l^antucket names, as Coffin, Gardner, Worth, Starbuck, Folgier, Macy, Swain, Hussey, etc., etc., and all had a look of deep, unflinching pui*pose in their eyes. To my surprise the 60 LIFE AND TRAVELS subjec'te discussed were almost identical with those of the mannmissionists in N^orth Carolina twenty years before, and some of the speakers when young men had discussed them in the south. "Immediate and Un- conditioned Emancipation of Slaves'' was the burden of all discussion, and the watch-word was "Free thought, free speech, free soil, free labor, and free men." Some of the discourses were grand and in- spiring, and the few Pro-slavery Whigs in attendance sat in silent thoughtfulness, and at times mnced un- der the seething denunciation of northern freemen affiliating with southern slave-holders. At the end of three days the convention closed, and all went home strengthened and edified. From Dalton I went to the town of Milton to some neighl)ore, who emigrated a few years before, and to see some special friends of my parents. While walking through the thick forest on the way, I met my friend, George Bowman, an unexpected, but glad meeting to both; he was ^^siting friends in that part, and turned out and went my way, and we made \dsits together for two days. From Milton my steps were turned toward? Spiceland in Henrs^ County, where I found Louviea AVhite, the widow of Isaac White, who ran with my father to rescue John Dimery from th(3 kidnappers; my mother could not have given me a warmer welcome than she did, and I felt that I was OF ADDISON COFFIN. 61 safe from danger. T was now in one of the most in- teresting anti-slavery neighbor}ic»o(ls in that part of the state ; it was largely made up of old neighbors and friends from New Garden, N. C. : Whites, Unthank, Hiatt, Stanley, Macy, Gordon, Meredith, etc., etc., and everywhere I had a glad, kindly reception; I was admitted into homes, family circles and kindly friend- ship. In a Aveek, or ten days, an old neighbor, Eli Unthank, was going to Cincinnati with a four-horse- team of ])roduce and I was given the chance to go with him; this I was very anxious to do, as it would give me another lesson in Hoosier life. Eli Unthank had been a teamster in North Carolina, and was a vet- eran in the business. I was keenly alive to all that passed on this trip of 100 miles, and had another op- portunity of seeing the Queen City, and the bustli} of its every day life. While in the city I found John Thomas Moore, who was huckstering produce sent him from near Cambridge City, Ind. He and I had grown up to- gether and were considered tolerably steady in some ways, but we yielded to an o'ermastering temptation and stole away one night and went to a theater, a thing we had been taught was very wicked, so we felt giiilty when we got up next morning, and tried to think u]> many mitigating excuses to ease our guilty con- sciences. But the memory of the scenes enacted that ni^ht are as bright to-day as when I saw them }»er- 62 LIFE AND TRAVELS formed. lu this connection I will say that I was sat- isfied almost for life with theaters, in all my travels never attended any more excepting once in New Orleans, and once in San Francisco. On the i-^tum trip we stopped one evening to camp as usual as I thought, but I noticed my old vet- eran fed and rubbed the horses with extra care, and prepared an extra supper; and about the usual time he told me to turn in. and rest, I did so and was soon sleeping soundly; how long after I could not tell, a violent shaking suddenly aroused me, and I realized the wagon was in motion; looking out in alarm I saw the old teamster in the saddle driving steadily along the road, and a long log causeway had shaken me up ; it was bright moonlight, and taking in the situation, I lay down and knew no more until about daylight, I was called to get up and have breakfast ; we got back to Spioelaud that evening, and I was asked, ''How many nights did Eli drive all night ^" for it was his custom to do that on the return trip. To my surprise a two months' school had been made up for me during my absence. I entered on my duties ; for here was another opportunity for me t6 learn, as' well as the children ; for during the time T learned much of the spirit of the young people ; and to some extent entereolitionists from Massa- chusetts, and Frederick Douglass, the freed slave, who was the center of attraction. Even in his beginning his hidden might was discernible to my mind and plainly foreshadowed what a power he was destined to be in 66 LIFE AND TRAVELS tiie nation. He did not know the hidden lire that needed but an awakening hour to set it burning in his heart. During the discussions in the convention tho declaration of James G. Bumey was repeated in con- nection with the future of slavery, ''Slaver}^ was in- stituted by violence, is maintained by violence, and will die by violence." Several speakers did not ap- prove of the declaration, and when it was embodied in a resolution it was voted out; then an amendment was offered, so as to read — ''and if not peaceably abolished will die by violence," this was carried by a unanimous vote. The whole procedure of the convention was a revelation to me and I was learning beyond my ability to store away in my memorv^, which resulted in neiwous prostration, and I had to remain in the neighborhood several days after the close, and my young compan- ions reluctantly left me behind and returned home. This was providential, otherwise, I should have gone with Frederick Douglass to Pendleton, a town twenty miles northeast of Indianapolis, where he was booked to speak, and where one of the most exciting, disgi^ace- ful, brutal, revolutionizing mobs took place that ever occurred in Indiana. The public speaking was held in the open air, q slight platform was raised for the speakers and for the elderly ladies. Soon after Frederick Douglass began OF ADDISQN COFFIN. 67 to sjx'ak, a half dniiiken mob of several hundred bnital men and boys came on the ground armed with com cutters, clubs and stones, and began swearing, shout- ing and using foul mouthed language. As soon as the stone-throwing began, the men in the audience hastily surrounded the women, to protect them from the missiles; but the mob rushed upon them like demons, knocked many down, and rudely pushed women over and backw^ards, and in one case, brutally kicked. Frederick Douglass was the object of their great-est fury, he was defended for a time, but his friends w^ere overpowered, and he attempted to save himself by flight, but was pursued by howling devils, for eighty or one hundred rods, then knocked down, beaten and left for dead. Some young men who were there, afterwards went through the war of the rebel- lion, and they say thev never saw in all the war a more brutal, murderous scene in any battle anywhere. There w^ere many seriously hurt; many bore the marks of their wounds for life. The news of this outrage spread like wildfire over Indiana, Ohio, Illinois and Michigan, and aroused a spirit of indignation among all honorable people and caused hundreds to join nl once the abolition party. Was it Providential I was left at Greensboro? I am at least thankful I did not see the sight. It was now the fall of the year, and Indiana Year • 68 LIFE AND TRAVELS Ij Meeting of Friends held at Richmond was near at hand, so my stej>s were turned in that direction, the journey was through new counivj, much of it thinly settled, but full of interest. One place especially had then and afterwai-ds much interest to me. It was an ash swamp two and a half miles across and several long; there was a causeway made of split logs, and poles across it straight as a line, a person standing at either end could see across as through a tunnel. In the swamp the timber grew so thick that it looked dark and forbidding and j>art of the year was covered with water. Thirty years later I passed that way again, the swamp was gone, and in its place were beautiful farms, and homes, a country not to be excelled for beauty in the state. The land had been ditched and drained, it wsls so fertile that everv square rod had been cleared and was under cultivation, to me it seemed like magic, and it was hard to realize the marvelous change, but the old log hotel was still standing, with an un- broken record, and it was a reality. Indiana Yearly meeting was associated with the memories of all my life, and was the embodiment of all that was great and good, the larger portion of my relatives were amone* its members, more than half the people I had ever known in life had removed and settled in its limits, besides its membership was scat- tered through Ohio, Indiana, Illinals, Michigan and OF ADDISON COFFIN. by Iowa and at its annual gatherings there were people from the extremes of six to eight hiinch*ed miles apart, many of them making the journey on horseback; women oftentimes rode one hundred miles on horses and thought it no hardship. AVith all this on my mind it was little wonder that I expected it to be one of en- during way marks in my future, and when the thou- sands assembled on the public days my ideal was fully realized. During the business sessions I watched with ob- serving interest the spint which animated the vast audience. There was splendid talent, f ai-seeing judg- ment, with high intellectual ability stamped upon the faces of many present, but the greater number, though above the average of their generation, were not above the influence of human passion, human prejudice and preference. It was evident that the meeting was still agitated by the effects of the separation, that had taken place one year before, when a large number of the more sanguine abolitionists revolted from the pro- slavery element as they characterized them and set up an "Anti-slavery Yearly Meeting," at I^ewport. For four days I attended the sessions, and watched, saw, heard, felt and read the minds of the prominent actor<=, and stowed in memory enough for a small history. No one for a moment dreamed that the awkward Caro- lina boy in his home-spun clothes was reading and re- 5 70 LIFE AND TRAVELS meinbering eveiything that was said, done and in some cases thought. One of the hundreds of incidents of life was con- nected with my attendance at the Yearly Meeting. While stopping at Spiceland the summer before, there oame several young people from Flat Rock east of there to attend Spiceland Quarterly Meeting; they stopped at Uncle William Unthank's Sabbath after- noon. They were of the high toned, wealthier class, well dresvsed and very nice looking, Init woe to me with my home-spun clothes and home-made shoes, etc. Thr; youngsters from Flat Rock made life bitter for me that day with their fun and heartless jokes, rough sport; making a virtue of neceSvsity I did not resent or retort, though it was very galling to my nature. I took, however, a lasting imprass of their featurf^'^, forms, words, and gestures and stored it up in my mem- ory. At Yearly Meeting I met part of them again and received similar treatment, but it was less trying. Twenty years from that time the leader of that Flat Rock party drove up to my house in a one horse hack containing tin troughing for houses, which he sold for his emplover; he was threadbare and looked dejected At first sight, all the memory of the past came to mind like a burning fire, but it passed in a moment, and when I took him by the hand, it was with difficulty the tears of sorrow and sympathy were restrained, and I thanked OP ADDISON COFFIN. 71 the Lord for putting it in my heart to forgive the past and return kindness for unkindness. Misfortune fol- lowed that man through life, and he died poor and afflicted, but it was a lesson not to be forgotten to me and mine. After attending three days of business sessions at Richmond, I went to Newport and attended two days of the Anti-slavery Yearly Meeting to see and learn its leading spirit, and, as at Richmond, was alive to all that transpired. Though in the midst of con- genial spirits and old friends, it was apparent to my mind that the anti-slavery friends though in the right and full of enthusiasm had made a serious mistake in separating from the pro-slavery Friends. Thoy had mthdrawn all the leaven from the body that needed leavening, and had a surfeit where little was needed. They should have remained with the church and suf fered, prayed, pleaded and reasoned on until the whole lump was leavened. All parties saw this in a few years, and were again united, but the labor of half q generation was lost in the unhappy separation. Among the most noted was Martha Wooten, a minister, and the second speaker in eloquence at that time in Amer- ica. Lucretia Mott was admitted by all people to have been the most sublimely eloquent preacher in the English language, when in her prime, and Martha Wooten was next and to my ear and heart, was the 72 LIFE AND TRAVELS equal. 'Tis said that Tom Corvvin caught his highest touch of eloquence while listening to Lucretia Mott in Philadelphia. While at Richmond I met Alfred Haldey, from Bloomfield, in Parke County, who was an intimate friend and co-worker with mj father in their young days; he invited me to go to Bloomfield, now Bloom- ingdale, and teach their winter school ; this was condi- tionally agreed to — provided I got there in time. Here I want to say, while attending the Yearly meeting at Richmond, I met and f onned an acquain c- ance with Rowland T. Reed, then just grown, In- diana's most gifted and most neglected poet. I had seen and memorized his poem, '^Autumn Evening Thoughts," published in the 'Tree Labor Advocate" 1841, and had an especial desire to meet him. When we met it was as kindred spirits, and we formed a friendship that was never broken, until his untimely death some years ago; he married my Sister FrieuLl Drucilla A. Unthauk, and through her the friendship still lives. Returning from Xew^port to Spic eland I spent a few days and then started westward, going by Carth- ag'e and Walnut Ridge where many friends and ac- quaintances lived; from there I went to Whitelick, in Morgan County, going through Indianapolis, then :i small town. Late one evening, footsore and tired T OF ADDISON COFFIN. 73 reached Benjamin White's iiouse, near Mooresville, one of my heels had been blistered and was quite painful. Aunt Mary White, my father's cousin, and sister to Levi Coffin, acted the part of a tender mother, took me in, poulticed my foot, and took oare of mo until in traveling order. This stop wa^ especially pleasant and lasting in the friendships fonned with the family, the evenings being spent in stories from the old home land and lessons in pioneer life, and Hoosier characteristics. The next journey was to Spring, in Hendricks, my home county, where some of the nearest Carolina neighbors had settled, with a large acquaintance, a week was spent there then the last stage of forty miles was begun. There were several large creeks to cross with no bridges, or boats, and the weather was getting oool, but the old habit of fording was again practiced and no bad results followed the cold baths. A part of the trip was through what was then new, rough country, in many places the road was poor even for walking, but now a beautiful pike, straight as a line runs through a succession of fine gTazing and grass lands, with the streams all spanned with steel and iron bridges, built by the state and counties, a marvelous change. Annapolis, north of Bloomfield two miles, was then a village of some note and business; my arrival 74 LIFE AND TRAVELS at the town was about sunset and I went directly to my old teacher, neighbor, and friend, Dr. Horace F. Cannon, who bid me a joyous welcome, and my jonr ney for the winter ended; but I soon learned that the people, the business, the lay of the land and all the envu'onments were differenc from the central part of the state. Espe- cially was there a marked change in the business of the people. The Wabash river with its tributaries was then one of the busy marts of the northwest; it furnished an outlet to a large portion of Indiana and Illinois; there was a fleet of river steamers on its waters, and thousands of flat boats were constructed on the bank of the river and the creeks holding from 60 to 200 tons of freight, all of which were loaded and floated down stream each spring to New Orleans. It was the ambition of nearly all the boys to take at least one flat boat voyage to l^ew Orleans, and return oy steamer. Many of the middle-aged men were as familiar with Xew Orleans as their home towns, and with the 3000 miles of river as with home county roads. This condition of business and line of trade gave the whole population a strong local character, like sailor language and phrases of seaport cities, so ii was on the Wabash; there were many boatmen words and phraser in common use among all the people uf which thev were unconscious. The wild, free life of OF ADDISON COFFIN. 75 a boatruan gave tone and impress to the business and business people, there was a broader, higher impulse in their characters that was distinctive to a stranger, and it was the character of the people on that river that first originated the term "Wild West." In those earlj days there was magic in the name in any river town anywhere between the mouth of the Wabash and New Orleans ; if a boatman was in trouble or dan- ger he only needed to raise his voice and shout "Wa- bash, Wabash, Wabash," three times and then pause a moment, then repeat it and in an instant every Wa- bash man within hearing caught up the cry and rushed to the rescue, and soon there would be a throng of fearless boatman on hand, and woe be to the evil- doers, who fell into their hands; they were not only brave, but honorable and just, and 50 of them could defy municipal law in any city. One time in New Orleans, a Wabash man was arrested on a fraudulent claim, and was being taken to the lock-up, when he shouted Wabash, and in five minutes a hundred men took him from the oflftcers, and aboard an up-river steamer nearly ready to start. The civil oflftcers sum- moned a posse of 80 armed men, and attempted to retake the man, then the cry of "Indiana, Indiana, Indiana" was raised, and in fifteen minutes 500 In- dianians and other up-river men were on hand. Th'^ posse was scattered like wild deer, and the boatmen 76 LIFE AND TRAVELS cleared the wharf until the steamer sailed, then dis- persed as quickly as though nothing had happened. People animated with this spirit, and engaged in this kind of life were the kind I now found myself sojourn- ing among. My old neighbors who had emigrated from five to twenty years before had fallen into the same spirit, and did not seem to know they were changed; to me it was interesting to note and study this transition, and I gave them the name of Hoosier Carolinians. Some days were spent visiting before my school began ; there were several relatives on the Cofiin, Ves- tal and ^ewlin side of the family and all were living within a few miles of Bloomfield and Annapolis. Al- fred Hadley's house was the Underground Railroad station on the Wabash route, so I was among old neigh- bors, old friends, and in connection with some old bus iness, making new surroundings very agreeable. The school was large and consisted mostly of growTi up young people, w^ell advanced, which made it very interesting, and responsible for here again memory was taken for superior ability, and I was con scious of it, consequently was in trouble in mind much of the time lest the students should be disappointed in their anticipations, but the vschool seemed to give satisfaction to all parties. There was a literary so- ciety connected with the school that was well attended, OF ADDISON COFFIN. 77 tlie public debates were especially interesting when the subject of slavery was under discussion, the spirit of the county being strongly pro-skvery, and hostile to public discussion, but the school sympathized with me, and freedom of speech was secured. Female suffrage was fii*st discussed that winter and it raised a stonn of opposition, and I had to face the storm alone, at the beginning. Mrs. Swishhelm was then publish- ing her Woman's Rights paper at Pittsburg, Pa., and quite a number of copies were secured for the occa- sion, which sowed seed that has borne abundant fruit. As the spring of 1844 opened the wdiole country was astir with preparations for the boating season. Thousands of barrels of flour had been packed by the millers, wheat had been put in barrels, thousands of barrels of pork were ready for shipping, hundreds of thousands of pounds of bulk pork were in the packing houses, and another article entirely new to me — thou- sands of dozens of chickens, ducks, and geese were collected readv for the southern market. Every in- terest was looking after its own progress, which made lively times; hundreds of men had been busy all win- ter building flat boats to float this immense surplus <-o market — and above all, all along the river banks were com pens with an almost unlimited supply of corn ready for any market that opened. Amid all this stir and push it was little wonder 78 LIFE AND TRAVELS that I caught the fever and determined to take a trip ^'Down the river'' and see the wonderful ''Door to the sea." So at the close of my school I booked as a boat- hand at the bow, or foi-^vard oar, on Washington Had- ley's flat boat, which was 80 feet long, 16 wide and drew three feet of water. The load was 300 baiTels of flour, 90 barrels of pork, 40,000 pounds of pork, 250 dozens of chickens and several barrels of eggs. An- other man, Joseph Battard, was also loading a boat that was going as consort, and the two to lash when they reached the mouth of the Ohio. The boat was loaded in Sugar CVeek, near Annapolis and pulled out into the Wabash, and down a few miles to Montezuma where the ship supplies were taken aboard, and then on , 1844, we cast loose and were afloat for a 3000 miles' run, which to me was another new^ phase of life, and another life lesson. The Wabash at that time was far more picturesque and charaiinfi: and had nearly twice the volume of water that it has to-day; its banks were clothed with magnificent for- ests, which cast their deep shadows over its dark water, like a cloud at noonday, and at night was weird, solemn and terrible. To-day the forests are gone, and the river looks dwarfed and lifeless, few boats of any kind are seen, and the grandfathers tell of boatman stories of the past. In a few days my hands and shoulders learned the art of heaving at the oar, and T was soon OF ADDISON COFFIN. 79 equal to the best, and in addition soon learned to row a skiff on the roughest waves, or strong-est wind that came. Everything was so new and charming that for a week I slept but little, was on deck listening to stories of the pilot, or steersman, and learning the art of steer- ing. The boat was steered by an oar 24 feet long, nicely balanced on an iron pin in the middle of the stern, the blade or water end was nicely shaped like an oar with the blade six feet long and eighteen inches pivot to give it great strength; a strong skillful man could exert an immense force with this long sweep, and turn the seemingly unwieldy boat in a very small wide; the beam was ten inches in diameter at the circle if it had headway. There was an oar amid- ship on the right hand side, and a bow oar on the left hand side about twej^^e feet from the bow, this was my oar, about 14 feet long, the other oar was 18 feet. One hand worked the bow and two amidship. Pulling at the oar was not a regular business, the boat was always intended to float with the current, the oars were to avoid drifts, snags, sand bars, skirt land ^, eddies and cross currents, and in time of "liigh wind it was no child's play to keep from being driven ashore, yet it was all a wild, free life, there was a feeling among all boatmen that they were cut loose from all the world BO LIFE AND TRAVELS and beyond all human law, much like a sailor out on the limitless sea. Often, under favorable weather a boat would not touch land for many days, though the crew, or a part, of them might land every day; -oft times it was their pastime to take the skiff and row ahead many miles, land in the cane break, at the cotton fields, the town.-^ and immense wood yards, where steamers stopped to take on wood for fuel. It was also a favorite amuse- ment to visit neighboring boats, that were always in sight, the salutation being, ''Where are you from?'' and the name of the river was always given,, and by the time we had reached the mouth of Red river w^e had seen boats from fifty, or more rivers. This naturally brought the boatmen in contact wdth each other from widely separated points, and gave them a breadth of geography and business knowledge that was surpris- ing to eastern and southern people. Here in this wild, free boating, was reai^ed and prepared a race of hardy men, ready w^hen the time came to march westward and take possession of half a continent and finish the foundation of our wonderful nation. Soon after starting I was installed as cook on our lx)at, and always managed to have plenty to eat, what it lacked in style was made up in good appetites. The supplies were all we could ask. There were chickens, eggs in abundance, any amount of ham, two or three OF ADDISON COFFIN. 8! barrels of apples, potatoes, and all other vegetables, bntter, cheese, kraut and all that hnngry men could- think of, and that, too, in every form that any or all our mothers had ever devised. Washington Hadley was an excellent carver, and we all took lessons in ar- tistic cai-ving. Eggs were eaten in every form be tween raw and egg-nog. Coffee and tea were made in all the strength and weakness of which these two bee- erages were capable. Both sides of the bread were sopped in home-made maple molasses; when a fresh can of home-made butter was opened there was no stint in its promiscuous use, etc., etc. Yet in the living there was as much difference among the boats, as at th^ homes of the boatmen, on some the food was scarce and poorly cooked, and frightfully dirty. So it was in personal habits, some were nice and clean while others did not change clothes during the voyage. It was quite a job to feed the chickens each day, to water and wash out the coops and see that all was going well: nor was there silence at any hour aboard our boat, for there were hundreds of mouths all crowing or cackling at once, but in a few days the ear became accustomed to it like the noise of machinery ; being cook exempted me from any of this work. We floated out of the Ohio into the Mississippi just before daylight, and according to universal cus- tom jBred off all the guns loaded to their utmost ca- 82 LIFE AND TRAVELS pacit J, with muzzles held close to the water to inten- sify the concussion, and in ten minutes we recognized the report of our Consort Boat close behind and we gave an answering shout. As soon as daylight came they pulled up and lashed the boats together with strong ropes, the inner oars on each being taken up and moved to the outer side ; my oar was not moved and my chum, Aleck Armstrong, was put right behind me, and from that time we swung our oars on time like clock work. The united crews now made a company of ten jolly, active fellows, our stearsman being the oldest, in middle life, sober and steady, and a good riverman. Our consort had a variety load, but the principal was 500 dozens of chickens and 100 turkeys, beside oats, flour, wheat, etc., and drew the same water, so the decks were even, and our territory was now 80x 32 feet; the windows to our cabins came together, and we had to close and cut new ones; but the music of 500 dozen more mouths can better be ima^ned than de- scribed. With the addition to the companv, with the new surroundings, and the wonderful river, my memory was kept to its highest tension. There was scarce an hour but there was a steamer in sight or sound. They were from hundreds of different ports, Pittsburg To the northeast to far up the Missouri in the northwest. In a note-book I took the names of over one hundred OF ADDISON COFFIN. 83 steamers that passed in the daytime, which is very in- teresting to look over after a lapse of fifty years, and after the railroads have nearly destroyed river traffic. Everything went well with us on the voyage; to me every turn in the river had a new sui-prise, every night-watch was full of interest; the otherwise still night was broken by the cry of the night birds whicdi filled the cane-breaks, thousands of frogs and night animals made the air musical with unmusical discord- ant sounds; new constellations shown in the southern sky and old ones more clearly defined; the songs of lone boatmen who were keeping watch, sounded sweet and low as he sang the grand old songs of love and home. Sometimes the wild peal of a bugle-horn would burst upon the ear, or some homo-sick High- lander would give the air of ''Bonnie Doon," or "The Campbells are Coming," sometimes elevating his horn and sending the music fioating off over the placid water, then holding down close to the water would make it roar like coming thunder, when his soul and heart were in the melodv. We stopped at ISTew Madrid, Memphis, Vicks- burg, ^N'atchez, Baton Rouge and Ft. Washington; fifty miles below Iberville we encountered a head wind that increased to a gale, and we took refuge in a bend for several hours ; during the delay a part of the crew landed and climbed the levee and found we were on tho 84 LIFE AND TRAVELS border of a very large sirgar cane farrri. with immeii'^c^, live oak trees standing over the area in beautiful artis- tic order; one was near us, to this we hastened and were soon clambering among its wide spreading branches, from which we could see the far end of th o rows of cane more than half mile away and a dozen or more slaves plomng with slow going mules, coming our way. I descended and rowed to meet them; the^; seemed astonished to see me and began looking un- easily towards a beautiful mansion in the distance; a voice cried out, ''Halloo, there," looking up there was a man galloping towards us across the field, who soon came up and in a gTuff voice demanded what I was doing there; without any hesitation I told him, and said that tree was full of boys; he then turned towards it and we walked on together; to the question of where I was from, I said from North Carolina, and without giving him time to speak, rattled on telling of my trip to Indiana, my boating and futtire aspira- tions, and before he was aware of it, had completely captured him, and to his surprise, could talk of men he personally knew^; instead of ordering us off his ground he spent near an hour in pleasant conversa- tion, and when the signal came from the boat he bid us a very kindly good-by. I read that man at sight and knew how to surround and take him, and did sooner than expected. OF ADDISON COFFIN. 85 We landed in the wonderful city in the forenoon, had been 22 days afloat and were all well and strong and in good working order. The crews of flat boats were always paid off and were at liberty after three days; then they usually did some trading, sight-seeing, and ofttimes took a ride to the gulf. With our party this was done except myself; I remained and watched the boat until unloaded and sold, about two weeks. During this time I was in the midst of Wonder Land, had not seen a ship of any kind before; could hardly realize there were so many ships in the world as were in port; along the ship landing there was a perfect forest of masts and spars, with a babel of tongues and strange, foreign faces. There were 200 river steam- ers at the landing all the time and 2500 flat boats; there were four miles of wharf in front of the city, and all the distance was a scene of life and bustle that wa=5 exciting and inspiring to my mind. There were hun- dreds of flat boats alongside sailing ships unloading their cargoes; there were ships alongside of river steamers unloading their cargoes for inland shipping. The wharf was everywhere piled with articles for ex- port, or those imported and the babel of tongues and the clatter and clang on every side was like the roar of a coming storm. Fifty years passed by, and then, I stood on the self same place; again I looked in vain for the old land 6 ^6 LIFE AND TRAVELS •marks but ttey were gone; I looked for the old cliar- -acteristics but could not find them ; instead there were new sights, new sounds, new faces, new voices; in- stead of the roar of the passing stonn there was heard the rumble of deep tones of thunder, the gi'ound trem- bled beneath my feet, and there were clouds of smoko and steam around and over all ; and above the din was heard the shriek of the locomotive, and the harsher and louder bray of the ocean steamer. The levee had been built a hundred feet wider out into the river; the whole extent of the miles of wharf was covered with railroad tracks ; there Avere hundreds of freight cars in motion and other hundreds still; there was not a flat boat in sight: a few lone river steamers were lying- miles farther up the river, the sail vessels had dimin- ished one-half, but standing out above all were the huge ocean steamers into whose depths a constant stream of all articles of export, were descending. In- stead of the block and tackle and the He-o-heave, there was the ceaseless rattle of steam derrick lifting its tons of freight night and day without ceasing. Across the river where the steamboat calabooses used to be, and a small stragglino- village on the bor- ders of the swamp were now a forest of smoke stacks and many acres were covered with large tugs; there were immense steam ferry-boats capable of taking a railroad train without delay, hitch, jolt or jar. The OF ADDISON COFFIN. 87 swamp was covered with beautiful gardens and su- burban homes. All, all wa® clianged! In the city itself all was changed, instead of the lumbering old omnibus and lazy-going coach, the street car glided along the level streets amid new^ scenes of life and ac- tivity; the Xew^ Orleans of 1844 w^as gone forever; a new spirit had entered into its innermost life. The haughty, slave-holding autocrat no longer rode in haughty pride through the street; the slave now walked a free man and a citizen. The haughty power of slavery was broken and gone forever; a new race of men were busy in its marts animated by a new im- pulse and full of higher, broader aspirations and am- bitions. While in the city I was taken with the river fever, which weakened me very much and at the end of two weeks took steamer for return to my nearest friends. Landing at Evansville, in southern Indiana, I started to walk 120 miles back to BkH:)mfield, Ind., but I found the fever had weakened me so much that walking was difficult. Calling at a farm house I asked for a drink of milk: the kind-hearted lady looked me in the face a moment and said, ^'You look weak, my son," and brought me nearly a quart of good, pure milk; I drank it like a hungry child; it was like an opiate and I felr, relief all over, then thanking the lady, who would noL receive pay, I lay down on the grass in the warm sun- m LIFE AND TRAVELS shine and slept soundly for several hours. On awak- ing I felt weak, but refreshed, and brave at heart, and started on my journey. One day a teamster overtook me and pressed me to get in his wagon and ride, but the shaking and jolting hurt me so I thanked him for his kindness, and started again on foot. At the end of a week, I reached Alfred Hadley's home brave and cheerful, but still weak, though improving every day, I had been gone nearly two months, and was now in no shape for joining Freemont on his exploring expedi- tion ; unforeseen events had changed my program, and as it proved for life. Alfred Hadley and family all bade me welcome to and into the family, for as mother Rhoda afterwards said, I looked like I needed a mother and a home ; my Aunt Ann Hill, who lived close by was not unmindful of my situation and gave me much kind attention. I had now passed my first year in the school of the World, and probably ^'ew students ever learned f aste? or remembered their lessons better. Though nothing sensational had occurred, and no startling adventure had fallen to my lot, yet I had seen and heard mucin that in a few years was to move and influence the whole world. The summer of 1844 was spent in the family of Alfred Hadley, and though not able to make mo'-e than half a hand at work, I was all right in the Under- ground Railroad ; the Wabash line was getting in good OF ADDISON COFFIN. 89 ruDuing order and passengers very frequent, and in spite of the violent and almost mnrderous hostility of a majority of the community, especially Rockville, the county seat, the fugitives came and went like fleet- ing shadows, defying all efforts to detect or prevent. It was less difficult to find the way from one station to another, the roads were gradually being put on the land, lines though rough and muddy, were straight and easy to follow, beside the stations were nowhere more than 20 t^ 30 miles apart and often friendly homes between. It required more shrewd management than courage and daring; the pro-slavery Hoosiers invari- ably spent much time in swearing what and how they were going to do, and they sought the fugitive when he was gone, and we quietly smiled and kept still. The political campaign of 1844 was an important one to anti-slavery cause ; Henry Clay was the Whig candidate, and James K. Polk, the Democratic, for the presidency; during the contest it was brought out and proved that Henry Clay had publicly said, '^Two hundred years of legislation has sanctioned and sancti- fied negro slavery. I am opposed to gradual or im- mediate emancipation." The Abolition orators made that their special line of attack, and made the woods of Ohio and Indian a echo with their vehement thunder. That was the death knell to Henry Clay; where is he to-day? He has dropped out of history, while the Tiame of Cassius M. Clay, his Abolition cousin, w'ill live through all coming time as the bravest of the brave. THIRD CHAPTER. Revisiting the Carolina home and friends — Second trip to Indiana — Married in June, 1845 — Learn- ing to farm — Purchase of land in Hendricks County — Moving to the new home, and begir^- ning life anew — Death of my wife — Return again to N'orth Carolina- — Bringing my mother, two nieces, two cousins and boy to Indiana — Be- ginning again — Brother Alfred's amval — Sick- ness and death of my youngest child — Married again to Ruth Hadley — Exciting political times — War of the Rebellion — Events commenced with the war — Sickness of Brother Alfred, and death of Brother Emory, and William Thomas. Amid the excitement of the political campaign, of mass meeting, pole raising, illuminations, etc., etc., another unforeseen event occurred, wholly unexpected, and against which no precautions had been taken. Alfred Hadley's oldest daughter, Emily, and I came to the conclusion that we would try living together. Though by using a little exaggeration, imagination (90) OF ADDISON COFFIN. 91 and sentiment the event might have been called ro- mantic, in the eyes of others it was similar to all such events. This was another decided break in my life pro- gram, calling for some reconstruction and change of outline; accordingly it was settled that I should re- turn to mv home in Xorth Cai'olina, get what little was due me on final family arrangement, bid good-by to home and countrv, and return to Indiana. In the fall Milton Hadley, brother to my intend- ed, and I started on foot; he to spend a year at Nevr Garden Boarding-school. I had measurably recov- ered my health, and we started out with hearty good- will. The Madison and Indianapolis Railroad, the first built in Indiana, was then building, and a con- struction train was running to Edenburg; we reached that point and took the box cars for Madison, and then took steamer for Point Pleasant, and then set out on foot, taking the route by way of the ''Hawk's N^est" on 'New River and Red Sulphur Springs, striking my former route at Peter's Mountain, then followed it back home. My return was looked upon as quite a noted evenr among my young associates; it was a custom in those days to measure people's popularity by the number of hundred miles they had traveled, and the number of states they had been in. I had gone beyond the 92 LIFE AND TRAVELS most popular, and accomplished it without money, or wealthy family influence. This was cause of offense to the children of some slaveholders, who had trav- eled through Georgia, Alabama and Tennessee and called themselves w^ealthy; for one unknown injthe higher social circles to accomplish so much, and do it almost entirely on foot, was an insult to their respecta- bility, and I had to suffer scorn and contempt for the offense, but to my intimate friends it was cause of real joy, and it did my heart good to receive their kindly greeting, and the kindness was returned by rehearsing my adventures, and all the new, beautiful, and won- derful scenes through which I had passed. About three months were spent at home, and then arrangements were made to return to Indiana. My mother had given me a colt, which was now grown to be a fine, young mare ; she also gave me a small one- horse wagon; with this I prepared to make a wintei journey across the mountains. On the second of Feb ruary, 1845, I again bid adieu to the old home and loved ones, and had nice weather for three days, but on reaching the mountains, met a severe snow storm that lasted three davs, and the weather turned very cold. The snow drifted very much and there was a great deal of ice in the creeks and rivers which made it difficult and dangerous traveling; in crossing the Big Suel Mountains I was three days and nights with- OF ADDISON COFFIN. 93 out fire, though I did not suffer with cold; I walked before my horse all the time. She would follow me anywhere, sometimes the drifts were four feet deep across the road, making cold wading, but finally the range was crossed, and a safe descent made to the banks of the Kanawha River, where the snow was melting rapidly, and the mud soon became more serious than the snow. It took four days' hard traveling to go 55 miles from the Salt Works to Point Pleasant on the Ohio River. There I took steamer and landed at 10 P. M. in Cincinnati,, the 21st. No journey in life has been more exhausting, or really more dangerous than that one, as I look back upon it now, though alone, and surrounded with ice and snow there was no fear, hesitation or doubt; there was a secret voice in my h^art that always answered, go, all is well; and my trusty animal seemed to have the same spirit ready to plunge into the cold stream, and flounder through the snow drifts, in fact, to follow wherever I would lead. Notwithstanding, the 22nd of February was a cold, blustery day, the city was all astir with martial pomp, and all a-flutter with banners and flags, celebrating Washington's birthday; the big guns on the wharf bellowed, out their hollow boom over the water, and si:ormy drums shook the freezing air, and from gray- headed sires to almost babes and sucklings were utter- ing shouts of glad acclaim. All this soon ceased to bo 94 LIFE AND TRAVELS interesting; there was another and higher attractiou. further on, and at 10 A. M. the journey westward was resumed ; two days' travel along the line pike road now finished, took me to Richmond, Ind., and one more day back to my Spiceland home with Uncle William and Rebecca Unthank and their children. Here one cvcle of events was completed, and was on the eve of another, the events in which were as un- known as those of the past had been, but still that silent voice was whispering go. I know not what the future hath, Of marvel or surprise, Assured above that life and death His mercy underlies. A week's re^st and again the journey was resumed. The roads were so muddv that it was slow traveling; the National road was so bad that I avoided it by going aside and traveling more private and parallel roads. Twenty miles was a hard day's travel, over pole bridges, log causeways and lx)ttomless mud slashes. The thaw-out was on hand, and in those days it took a strong attraction to pull through the nearly impos- sible country roads. One thing this generation cannot understand about the travel fifty yeai*s ago; the roads were cut out through the dense forest of large trees and were full of stumps in many places, three to five OF ADDISON COFFIN. 95 feet in diameter; it was impossible to every time go around them; with a one-horse wagon, the horse had to go over the stump, or one set of wheels go over it, so it made driving a constant succession of ups and do^vns, and sometimes a turn-over, but is was a part ot every day life, and had to be met and overcome. About the 20th of March I arrived at Uncle Joseph Hill's safe and sound, but tired of mud, rain, and snow; and at once began looking after the practical side of life, by renting Uncle Joseph's farm and going to work. Here came in my first trial and perplexity; Hoosier farming was very different from Carolina; the climate, soil, season and way of cultivating was all different, and people had to bestir themselves when spring came; there was no winter plowing; after the ground thawed out and settled, the plow had to go every hour of daylight to prepare the ground, and then to cultivate the crop till harvest came. Then every hour was necessary to secure the grain and grass; '*ri many places the stumj^s were so thick the wheat was still cut with the reap hook, and hired help was hard to get, so nearly all were cropping in the summer time. All this was before me and made me a little nervous as to how I might succeed, and still more per- plexed as to what people would say. On the 25th day of June, Emily Hadley and 1 were married at Bl(X)mfield, Parke County, India naj 96 LIFE AND TRAVELS after the order of the Society of Friends, now Friends Church. Of course it was a wonderful event in our lives, but verv' much like other similar events before and since. We saw and began life from the practical side; next day after the marriage I did a good day's plowing, and the second day after my wife walked over with me to Joseph Hill's, and from that day we were one. I fully realized my situation, and was keenly alive and sensitive to what might be said. My wife had elected to marry a poor Carolina boy instead of wealthy suitors, and for me to fail was more than T could bear to think of. One former suitor had said of her, ''She has married a pcK)r Carolinian, and will have to dance in the hog trrtugh the rest of her days." T said to her when I heard it Iwould make a living for her, or shorten my days at hard work. My farming was a success that year, and that winter I taught school again. The next year my farming was again a success, but I wanted a home of my own, but I was not able to buy land in that pari: of the country. The wonderful Wabash and Lak.,' Erie canal was being built from Toledo to Evansville on the Ohio River, which, when completed, would be one of the longest in the world : land on the line of its construction increased in value very fast. Water navigation was the idea of national prosperity at that OF ADDISON COFFIN. 97 time, railroads as yet being in tlie background and in the experimental staire. With a sad heart I had to turn away from this future great improvement and home market, to seek a home where land was cheap. It was 40 miles east to the land my mother had en- tered in 1833, and it was considered 40 miles from market. She gave me privilege to (x^cupy and culti- vate as my own, but that would not be mine; but Iwenr, to see it and found an 80-acre lot alongside for sale for $537.50; this I bought and rented the cabin and a small piece of land on it for the season. This event seemed to give us new energy and new life ; we had something to work for; a spot of earth we could call ours; a home. On January 27, 1847, a son was born to us, and like other parents we thought it a precious gift from the Lord, and naturally began to dream of its future, but alas! on the 12th of May succeeding it was taken from us, which cast a cloud over our lives, and made a shadow fall over our prospective home. On the 2nd day of February, 1848, we arrive4 on our land* after two days' hard travel through mud and ice, and started the first fire at home. The cabin was 20x22 feet, with regTilar cabin roof, made of boards four feet long and held in place by heavy poles ; the fioor was rough boards fastened down with wooden pins, and the chimney was ''stick and clay'' with a ^^8 LIFE AND TRAVELS fire-place six feet wide, with back built up with stones three feet. We had no stove, for they were costly at that day ; we had an outfit of skillets, ovens, pots, a tin reflector, and a long-handled frying-pan, etc., etc., and I soon rigged up a wooden crane to swing the pots over the fire, for the boiling vas done in the pots, and the baking done over coals on the hearth. There was room for two beds in the back end ; for kitchen, parlor and bed-room were all one; the table w^as made of rough boards, the result of my own skill ; the cupboard, of same material, w^as fastened on pins driven in the wall. There was but one door and no window, but another door and a small window was soon added; and we were happy and thankful for all our surroundings. In a few weeks sugar-making began ; there was a fine sugar orchard of 400 trees, large and thrifty ; this we opened, and w^ere busy with the work for three weeks w^hen the season closed ; we made an abundance of sugar and molasses for home use and some for mar- ket. When I look back to what was before us the spring of 1848, the wonder is that we w^ere not dis- couraged and filled with despair; the fields that were enclosed were thickly set with dead trees; many had fallen during the winter; plowing could not begin until much hard w^ork was done in rolling and burning logs ; fences needed repairing, and worst of all we did not have money to hire help, but we were young and hope- OF ADDiSON COFFIN. 99 ful, full of determination, and did not know what the future might bring. We worked early and late, studied, planned and prayed for patience, strength and health, and did not lose a day, and as things began to put on a home-like' look, and the crops grew and har- vest came and rewarded our efforts; we were happy in our simple, homely home, and gladness filled our hearts. The year 1849 was unusually dry and crops were short, and we were rather straitened in making pay- ments, but the county surveyor took sick and could not work, and I took his place for three months, for which service I received $44.00, quite an item in our present condition; this surveying proved an advantage to me in after years. It was a time of violent political agitation; the Abolitionists were becoming a fixed quantity in politics, and the pro-slavery elements were hostile and abusive. Most of my surveying was laying out and locating public roads in which all had an in- terest, thus I was brought in contact with all classes, and I never failed to defend abolitionism; and never did my knowledge of the Bible and history stand me more in hand, and I could out talk any opposition, and make the old pioneers believe I was very wise and learned, beside my knowledge of surveying was a sur- prise to them. Many times I would amuse a large company of them by marking on the ground, showing 100 LIFE AND TRAVELS how to measure by triangulation both in height and distance, and more than one boy caught the inspiration to become a surveyor, and in time succeeded. This contact with pro-slavery class had the effect to lessen their violence toward me and my cause. I shourld have stated that in September, 1848, another son, who still lives, was born to us, which, in part, filled the blank that was caused by the death of our first-born. It may not be out of place to relate a very amus- ing event that (x^curred in my surveying days, which ^ives an insight into those pioneer times. In the north corner of the county (Hendricks) there was a new section being settled, and a road was wanted through that part. There was a sturdy, old Ken- tuckian who was clearing a field in the dense fore.-:i, and had killed many large rattle-snakes, which were dangerously abundant; he had killed a very large one with sixteen rattles and a button; it being unusually large he did not burn it as was his wont, but left it lying where killed. A dandy lawyer, an old a'> quaintance, from Kentucky, had come on a visit to the "backwoods" and came out where the snake lay, he was riding a fine horse, and was equipped with kid gloves, spurs and riding whip. Seeing the rattles on the dead snake (its head was cut off), he alighted, drev/ off one of his gloves and with a stylish pocket knife proceeded to cut off the rattles ; he squatted down, toolc OF ADDISON COFFIN. 101 the rattles in his gloved fingers, then applied the knife ; as soon as the knife entered the flesh, the snake strnck back as if to bite and hit the dandy on his naked hand with unerring precision with the bloody stub of its neck, then writhed convulsively at the man's feet. He wdth one mid shriek bounded into the air, then fell backward in a dead swoon. He had to be carried to the cabin, and it was some hours before he regained consciousness, and three weeks before he was able to start home;, and a year before he fully recovered from the shock. He never returned to Indiana; he had no use for a country where snakes with heads cut off could still bite. Those large rattle-snakes are very ten- acious of life, like the snapping turtle, and ^vill writhe and strike for several hours after apparently killed. The old pioneer above knew Avhat the Kentucky dandv would get, but had not counted on the effect; his good wife said she did not want any more such fun. In 1849, my brother, Emory, who had married a neighbor girl, Elmira H. Foster, moved to Indiana and settled at Dunreith, which place he started when the railroad was constructed. They came to see us soon after, and thought it was rather a heavy under- taking to make a living among the big trees, stumps and brush; beside we were a half-way place between Whitlick, in Morgan County, and Bloomfield, in Parke County, and did more in feeding others than for our- 7 102 LIFE AND TRAVELS selves. Many times we would cover our cabin floor with beds for our friends to sleep, and if cold weather, keep them and the house warm with a big log fire that would burn all night. This was pioneer style, and was quite enjoyable, though rather hard on beginner^, and brother and wife protested against it; saying we were doing more than our share, even though we did it freely, and much of it was to traveling Friends. With all our hard work and discouragement, the Lord seemed to bless our efforts, and in 1850, we fiii- islied paying for our home, and built a good log l>arn. In spite of the violent pro-slavery spirit without, anrl the negative opposition within the church, we held our own by persistent agitation and discussion of the alwlition subject. But alas! we knew not v/hat was in store for r.s. On the 2Cth of December, 1850, a third son was born, and in 21 hours Emily showed signs of fever, which increased in spite of medical skill, until the 2nd of January, 1851, she passed away. The shock and feeling of utter desolation that overwhelmed me was such that it never wholly left me; it seemed more than I w^as able to bear. Father and mother Hadley arrived a few hours after she died. Though she was fully resigned, and felt the glad as- surance that she would receive the answer to her pray- ers "Well done, good and faithful serv^ant, enter into OF ADDISON COFFIN. 103 the joy of thy Lord," yet she had a strong desire to see her mother before departing. When this was told her mother it so touched her, that she never got over her heart yearning to have heard her dying words. Father and Mother Hadley kindly offered me a home with them in my helplessness, so I rented my corn ground for the season, and as soon as we could arranga things returned to their home. During the summer I made frequent trips to and from my home, for I had a large wheat crop, for that time, and this I har- vested and threshed. In the hot weather I preferred traveling after night, and walked the distance twice (40 miles) by moonlight, and enjoyed the solitude, as I passed the silent homes by the way; but the longing for my home became so strong, that in the fall I de- termined to return to JS^orth Carolina for my mother to come and live with me.' Some time in the begin- ning of October, I started, going by rail from Amo to Madison on the Ohio river, then by steamer to Ouy- andot, Va. ; I then walked to Oharlestown, and took the stage over the mountains which was covered with snow, then on foot again to the old home in New Gar- den, where all were taken by surprise, as I had not notified them of my intent. My mother at first declined to come away from the grave of my father, for she wanted to be buried by him; but she kindly consented on my pi-omising to 104 LIFE AND TRAVELS take her back for burial when she died. When this promise was made a A^oice in my heart said I would live to do it. I remained through the winter, and made arrangements for the return; in the meantime my two nieces, Mary E. and Miriam A. Henly wanted to come with their grandmother, also two cousins, Esther J. and Phineas Coffin, and a half grown negro boy; this was loading u:i rather heavily, but I bought two old, cheap, blind horses and a light wagon, and about the first of April, 1852, started on another over- land trip to Indiana. We presented a novel sight; our team was not very showy, the wagon was full of provisions, trunks, bales and bundles; the young folks were full of life and fun, they had never been far from home, and had not seen mountains, or large rivers, consequently, were full of wonder and delight. All walked except mother, and even she did quite often. I walked be- side the horses all the time. Around the camp fire at night there was life, fun, and story telling. The tent was set with open end to the fire, mother and the girls slept in it, while Sam, the negro boy, rolled in his blanket, lay across the opening at their feet as watchman. Phineas and I slept in th^e wagon, and 1 kept the horses eating all night when they wished more food. Though things all moved on like clock- work, it was rather an anxious time with mother, for OF ADDISON COFFIN. 105 had anytliing befallen me, my company would have been in rather bad shape among the mountains. Many times the fording of rivers, and large creeks was amusing and full of excitement, there was not room for all in the wagon, so mother, one girl, and Sam would go first in the wagon, then Sam would un- hitch the horses, and bring them back, then the rest would go, two on a horse; this was the amusing part; the horses being blind, would stumble and flounder about, if not guided well, and there would be shoutine; and boisterous meiTiment, but all finally crossed over dry. When we arrived at Maiden, twelve miles abovo Ckarlestown, on the Kanawha river, we took steamer, and landed at Madison, Indiana. Thence we made for my, home, arriving there about the 5th of May, sound and well, the two old horses the better for their feeding. It was a surprise to all that we had made the trip without mishap or loss. Phineas Coflin went to a cousin fifteen miles away, and learned to be a locomotive engineer, with Sam for fireman. Poor Sam was killed in a wreck, Phineas quit the business, and finally fell at the Battle of Stone River while fighting in the Union army. Esther J. Coffin married Dr. W. F. Harvey, and is still li\dng. Mary E. Henly married and settled in Grant County, Ind., and is still living,. Miriam A^ 106 LIFE AND TRAVELS Henlj married and is now living in Denver, Colorado. All have grandchildren to whom is told the stoiy of the wonderful trip from North Carolina. A week was spent in planting a garden, and in making other aTrajigements for beginning again, then I went to father Hadley's and brought my children, and the new home life moved on with the routine of labor and care. I now had quite a family to look af- ter, and my mother often said that surely there must be something in the old Albanoid superstition, or sign, at my birth, that I was to "Overcome-Triumph" or I could not so cheerfully take such responsibilities, as the looking after so dependent a company as we were then; but we worked on, mother was the central regu- lator, the girls went out with me into all kinds of work to which their strength was adapted. I had several young horses with which they amused themselves, in training them to be ridden, and they soon learned to drive a team, and took great delight in it. This saved me much time, and more was done during that season than if there had been a hired man. The spring of 1853 was a good sugar year; the girls entered into the spirit of the work, and we did a goo<^l thing in the busi- ness; besides the abundant family supply, sold over i barrel of molasses at one dollar per gallon. But there was a dark day ahead for us that came net with crushing but heavy weight. My brother. OF ADDISON COFFIN. 107 Alfred, had expected to move to Indiana in the near future, but suddenly had to flee for his life from the slave power. A companion of his early youth, a play- mate of his boyhood days, betrayed him as to the Un- derground Railroad business, and nothing but his cool courage saved his life — with the loss of all his prop- erty, he reached my home with his wife and two little children — cast down, overwhelmed, but not crushed nor wholly discouraged. Few can imagine our feel- ings when we all met around the table the first time after their arrival. The question came to our hearts as a dark temptation. Had the Lord forsaken us? Had we been following a false guide all these years? Had we been risking life, limb, honor, yea, and our very souls for an empty ideality ? Mother arose above it all and assured us that it was nothing but a passing cloud, and there would be sunshine beyond, yet we had still deeper proving. In a short time brother's wife, Mary Elizabeth, took sick, then their two little chil- dren, with a dangerous flux that was in the country, then my two children were taken, and we had five- bad cases of sickness in a small house. It was but a few days until my youngest child died, and the others seemed sinking rapidly. Brother's wife also grew worse and it, indeed, seemed like we were having more than we could bear; when we were alreadv at the point of breaking down. 108 LIFE AND TRAVELS with overwork, anxiety and sorrow. Suddenly all began to slowly recover, and in a few weeks we sat in our little house with glad hearts and returning strength and courage. We now made common cause and resolved to live; there were several acres of dead ened timber ready to clear up, that would yield boun- tiful crops; after harvest was over we went into the deadening, and by taking advantage of dry weather, and steady hard work, soon surj)rised ourselves with what we did. Many times for a week we would work till 10 P. M., and then be out by daylight, for all the feeding was done after night and before day. The hai-d work that claimed our attention was not all at home, for the political elements were stormy around us. The old Whig party had been defeated and killed for all time at the presidential election of 1852, and the Freesoil Wilmot proviso movement was every- where growing rapidly; the haughty, insolent boast of the slave power, that they would carry slavery into all the territories was arousing the freemen of the north, and the "irrepressible conflict" was approach- ing a crisis. Brother and I were not silent listeners and lookers on, but were active, earnest workei*s, and were expected to lead in the new awakening public opinion. So with hard work and stirring political surroundings, there was little idle time in the house- hold. OF ADDISON COFFIN. 109 I had beg-uii building a new house, and brother and I did mucli of the work by candle light, dressing and matching plank, making doors and windows, lay- ing floor, lathing, etc., often working to a late hour; this we did while keeping the crop and field work go- ing. It seemed absolutely necessary for us to be at the top of our speed all the time to keep from brooding- over brother's wrong, as well as to start him up again in independent support. When the new house was finished, it was thought best in mother's judgment that we should separate and make two families. Brother remained in the cabin, mother, I and the children went into the new house, but work did not cease, though in two fami- lies we were still one in purpose. To keep up the record of events, it will be in or- der to say that on the 13th of May, 1854, Ruth Hadley and I were married according to the order of Friends^ Church at Millcreek, Hendricks County, Ind. She- was cousin to father-in-law, Alfred Hadley, daugh- ter of Joshua and Rebecca Hadley. There had been a friendship between the two families since 1836, especially between her brother, Job, and me, who with his wife, Tracy Hadley, were among the first to come to my help when my wife died. Ruth Hadley was a school teacher of nine years' ex- perience, and was nOt afraid to marry an abolitionist. 110 LIFE AND TRAVELS This j^ear, 1854, was one of the years that marked the beginning of a great revolntion, that has changed the moral sentiment of the whole civilized world. It will be remembered that on the 22nd da}' of January, 1852, Salmon P. Chase, Charles Sumner, senators; and Joshua E. Giddings, Edward Wade, Gerrit Smith and Alexander DeWitt, representatives in congTess, issued an appeal to the people of the United States, warning them of the intention of the slave power to repeal the Missouri compromise, and the extension of slavery into all the territories. Then began the '^'Irrepressible Conflict" in renewed intens- ity with dark threatenings and vindictive insolence on the part of the slave power. The Missouri compromise was repealed in 1851. On the 20th of June all the above named men to- gether with all the anti-slavery men in congress met in Washington, and sent forth another appeal to the people of the United States. The appeal was signed by Solomon Foot, as chairman, and David Mace and Reuben E. Fenton as secretaries. All parties op posed to slavery regardless of party names and partv preferences were called on to unite against the com- mon enemy. This appeal ran like lightning through all the northern states and territories, and the whole land was in a ferment of excitement, indignation anr! stern resolve; the sound of the fiT-st gun in the civil war OF ADDISON COFFIN. Ill did not produce half the excitement. At last the peo- ple were fully aroused to their danger, and the per- fidy of the slave power. The lirst response to this appeal came from Mich- igan. The abolitionists of that state met on the 6th of July at Jackson to discuss the situation. The sub- ject of forming a National pai-ty with a platform on which all people opposed to slavery could unite, was discussed at length and finally adopted; then the name of the party was discussed. ''Free Soil," "Free Dem- ocrat," "Freemen's Partv," ''Anti-slavery," and some others were proposed, but during the discussion John P. Hale sent a dispatch suggesting the name "Repub- lican," which was adopted unanimously, and then and there the great political revolution began. The watch-word was free speech, free soil, free labor, and free men, and the motto. "A union with all men for the sake of liberty." The platform adopted was the same as that of the freesoilers during the AVilmot pro- viso conflict, that resulted in the compromise of 1850, wnth the new issue of the repeal of the Missouri compromise and the extension of slavery. In five days the whole state of Michigan was ablaze with political excitement and never abated un- til the last gun of the rebellion was fired. Indiana was next in line. On July 13th a mass meeting was held at Indianapolis, at which the name "Republi- 112 LIFE AND TRAVELS can'' was adopted bv acclamation, and the Michigan platform was adopted with a few local additions, and Indiana was ablaze with excitement. The pro-slaver}' Whigs joined the Democrats. The anti-slavery Dem- ocrats joined the Republicans, and the w^hole political elements were in violent motion, and in some locali- ties there was danger of an outbreak. The abolition- ists who had suffered insult, abuse, mob violence, brickbats and rotten eggs, were ready to retaliate with interest; but evei-y where wiser counsel prevailed. In a few weeks eleven northern states had come into line, and the revolution was complete and gave its last tri- umphant shout of victory at the fall of the rebellion at Appomattox in 1865. There is a disgusting as well as an amusing phase of humanity in recalling the stirring time from 181:8 to 1865. Men who from 1844 to 1860 could not think of words vile and profane enough to express their opinions of abolitionists, when the Republican party became popular, suppressed the rebellion, freed the slaves, reconstructed the south, etc., began to use the term 'Sve" in all their jjolitical talk. "We" formed the Republican party, "we'' suppressed the rebellion. "We" did thus and so and all such talk, but in many cases my memory retained many of their old time vilo expressions, and even up to date I am cruel enough to make them turn red in the face with confusion and OF ADDISON COFFIN. 113 shame by calling to mind what 'Sve" did do and say; nor were such characters confined to these old pro-slavery days, the land is full of them to-day, and "we" are still among the leading drones and dead weights in the community. Alack ! for humanity with all its frailty. This same Eepublican party that 1 helped form and support, which has done so much good, has degen- erated into a saloon, whiskey party, like the Whigs pandered to slavery. At this time central Indiana had advanced won- derfully in improvements, farms were opened, the dead trees and stumps were gone; nice, comfortable homes were built and as a greater sign of success and permanent gain, a multitude of large barns were being built every season; sometimes fifty men and boys would be at a barn raising, and there was no better place to learn the political opinions of the people; often two men would begin discussing the situation and someone would cry out "hold up," meaning stop work; "let's have a five minutes' speech," and all hands would listen to the talk for ten, fifteen, or twenty minutes, then the work would go on again, and it was surprising how much reading and thinking were done among the great mass of pioneers. The young people discussed the slavery subject at their literary and de- bating associations. Neighbors would meet neighbor on the way and exchange opinions, not so mu^*h in 114 LIFE AND TRAVELS angiy partisan discussion, but in earnest anxiety to know what to do under the surrounding condition?. The little dry weather-beaten mail sacks carried by the postman across the country had to be oiled up and be- gan to look like wool sacks with the increase of mail matter. Men in some cases read more in one year than they had read in half a life-time before, and no one w^as astonished at the vote given for Freemont, the first Republican candidate for president in 1856. Amid all this intense excitement I could not be idle; home life had its necessities that called for un remitting exertion, and in the new political activity I was naturally thrown forward to do nmch of the hard work in talking at all the local contests. Everywhere and at all times I had caiise to be thankful that I had read the Bil le through when a boy,- and then had fol- lowed uj) by reading history connected with Bible events; this gave me an advantage over men far su- perior in education and natural ability. I had a small pocket Bible that became a terror to local politicians^, and many a by-stander would go home and for the first time set himself to reading the Bible, after listening to a Bible argument against slavery. So time went on with no relaxation from labor, or abatement of political excitement. The campaio^n of 1856, with, all its hurras and mass meetings, swear- ing, drinking, betting and monomania, the distort- OF ADDISON COFFIN. 115 ed and exaggerated rumors of what the slave power was conspiring to do, kept things at white heat; the result of the presidential election of 1856 seemed to give assurance of victory in 1860, which added to the intensity of expectancy in coming events. On June l'3th, 1856, a son was bom to us, whom we named Job, after Job Hadley, and my favorit ; Uncle, Job (tiffin. P]mily''s children were U'anKuI Vestal, Trenmor and Miltoji. Vestal and Milton died. Trenmor now lives at Carson City, Nevada, an attorney-at-law and banker and is doing well. During the time between 1856 and 1860, there was great unrest in every part of social, political, re- ligious and domestic life. Xew thoughts seemed to suddenly come into the minds of every one. The agi- tation of the slavery question had opened out new channels of thought, and new powers of thinking, the invention of labor-saving machinery was also trans- forming every department of productive industry, and especially home life. The spinning and weaving of home-made cloth went out of use and the sewing machine came in. The mowing and reaping machine lessened by one-half the farm labor, the housewife wa5. released from half her toil, the men and boys rloing much that she and the girls formerly did. The farmer with the same labor doubled his yearly prod- ucts, and all had time to think; and the thinking was 116 LIFE AND TRAVELS forming into questions. Why are all things as we find them? Is there not a better way? Hov,- much of our faith and belief is traditional, and not founded on principles of justice and judgment? In the churches the question was being asked, How much i? the tradition of the elders, and how much is from the Bible in our religion, belief and usage ? Everywhere, in every channel of thought, active minds were ex- ploring the surroundings. Especially was woman- hood beginning to ask the question: ^'Why such a dif- ference between man and wife, between son and daughter before the civil law ? Why is woman looked upon as inferior in all church matters ? Why pay ^\ o- men less wages than men for the same amouni of work?" In the midst of all this cA^olution and revolution, I was still working on the farm up to the limit of my strength, and was slowly gaining headway ; every year more land was cleared, the timber land sowed in grass adding to the pasture land. One favorite business was raising horses, and in time I had several young horses for sale each spring, and made more money at the business than any other. Connected with this horse business was a very amusing pastime, especialh for the neighbor boys, that of trainingcolts to be ridden, and gaited for travel. Being an expert imm youth in this art, it was mv custom to set an afternoon and in- OF ADDISON COFFIN. 117 vite the boys to join in the exciting scene; and it can be said that we never failed in mastering by stratagem the wildest colts known. My plan was the more dan- gerous, but most sure; I always rode the wild colts with- out bridle, or halter, and had an enclosure from which they could not escape, by power of endurance, and agility let them completely exhaust themselves in try- ing to escape, or shake me off, and in time the boys caught the knack, and the result was that my colts always sold at a good price. In fifteen years I had sold a colt to every boy for miles around for when they wanted a horse to make a beginning, for as yet buggy and pleasure carriages were not in use, all people trav- eled on hoi-seback when going to church and on gala days and on journeys, traveling horses were in demand and sure sale. Again a cloud fell on the household. On June 27 th, 1858, our little son. Job, passed away aged two years. This was peculiarly trying to my wife, being- her first born, and a child of unusual promise, and we had begun to hope for a life of usefulness. My son Trenmor had become strongly attached to his little brother, and talked much of what they would do when they were men. The loss of this brother had a marked effect upon his young mind, which he did nor forget, and it seemed to prove one of the way mark of his life, 118 LIFE AND TRAVELS My brother had resumed the practice of medi- cine, and was making a success in business, was brave and strong again, and entered into all the excitement of everything pertaining to the slave power. Brother Emory had settled into successful business at Dun- reith, Ind., and was more quiet and mild in all his w^ays. We had also taJ^en a little niece into our fam- ily, who became as our own child, Euth Woodward, daughter of my wife's sister, Susannah Smith, who was married the second time to William Smith. In 1857, Western Yearly Meeting of Friends Church. was established at Plainfield, twelve miles from my home. It was set off from Indiana Yearly Meeting held at Richmond, Ind., and was a very large meeting from the beg-inning. Father Alfred Had- ley was one of the committee in charge of the locating and building a meeting house, and he always stopped with us going and coming from Plainfield, while the house was being built; a neighbor, Dr. James Kersey, was also one of the building committee, so I was toler- ably well informed of what was the mind of the active leaders of that day in the church, or ''The Religious Society of Friends" as then called, and the name un- der which the Yearly Meeting was incorporated. At that time the standard of wealthwaslow,whf*n comy)ared with the present standard; millionaires were almost unknown. A man worth $100,000 was the OF ADDISON COFFIN. 119 highest standard of weahh; so the })ropositic)n to build a $12,000 meeting house seemed wonderful, and was discussed long and earnestly before it was approved; then it became a point of honor, and a spirit of enthus- iasm took possession of the members to build the grand, costly church. I entered warmly into the building spirit, and imagined, in advance, how nice it w^ould be to sit in the congregation^, in so grand a house, yet not once dreaming what w^ould be. my relation to that congre- gation in a few brief years. The first Yearly Meet- ing held was a sensational event in the community, and, was the largest religious meeting ever held in cen- tral Indiana; on the first Sabbath of its sessions there were 10,000 or more people in attendance, and up to the present time Quaker Yearly Meeting is a fixed thing in the calendar, and used as a mark of current events as occurring before or after, and year by year its influence for good has slowly become a power of no small moral and political interest. Its decisions on temperance, peace, social, educational, and economi- <'al questions has a deciding influence far and near. The establishing of Western Yearly Meeting, and the constantly intensifying agitation of the slavery subject, made the life current run at almost fever heat, the national awakening was something I had de- spaired of seeing, but the hope that slavery could be 120 LIFE AND TRAVELS checked, then restrained and finally abolished in my day was so exciting to my excitable hopes that it is a wonder I was capable of carrying on my regular busi- ness. But for my wife's superior judgment and busi- ness ability I would have failed ; but I was in the prime of life and my early training had prepared me to meet what it seemed the Lord intended T should pas4 through; nor did I have time to think of what migbt come, the present was so full of work that it required undivided attention. At this period events crowded upon me so fast that they will have to lye taken sep-, iirately though contemporary. In the early spring of 1860 T met my intimate- friend, Dr. Mark D. Stoneman, who was intensely alive to all the surroundings, and a foreseer of coming events. Among his first exclamations was th'ri, "We are riglit at the beginning of a furious civil war, I feel it in every bone and fiber of body, heart and mind. Let it come, I am ready, this generation will see the end of slavery, thank God." Of course his enthus- iasm awakened a sympathetic cord in my heart, and we prophesied until our reason called a halt, and we came to more sol>er things. The wonderful presidential campaign of I860 has gone into history as one of the most intensely vio- lent of all our history, and resulted in the most fearful consequences of anything the world had seen for cen- OF ADDISON COFFIN. 121 turies. Before it was over I found tliat T could not endorse the spirit of \aolence, crimination, recrimina- tion, threats of vielence and blood and destruction that were heard on evers' side, especially among the pro- slavery party. Before the day of election came it seemed to be a settled conviction that the slave power would fight if they lost the election, and the voice of the Republican party seemed ^Tight if you dare," and when the first gun was fired there was a secret thrill oi joy in the hearts of thousands who longed for an opportunity to avenge the insults received in the past from slave holders, and the slave power, and to this spirit belong many of the wanton acts of destruction of property in the slave states. When the war was really upon us with all il meant, and all that it ultimately WDuld bring about, the destruction of slavery, my neighlK)rs and the com- mimity were astonished to find me not only holding- back in the wild storm of patriotic indignation and cry of vengeance against the rebels, but actively op- jx)sing the war spirit, attributing it to pure love of op- •position, they resorted to threats of perscaial violence against me, and at one time an effort was made to or- ganize a mob. That I should oppose a war that would end slavery, against which T had been fighting all my life, was more than some people were willing to tol- erate. They could not understand that I looked upon 122 LIFE AND TRAVELS all war as legalized murder, and that Christians could not approve, or support it. At one time there was a call for voluntary contributions to relieve the suffering of the soldiers in the army. The call was very popular and was universally responded to by all classes except- ing Job Hadley and myself, we decisively refused t<) contribute one cent in any form, or under any pre- tense. We were tried on the plea that it would be applied to assist the sick and wounded in the hospitals, etc., but all to no purpose, we were conscientious against all and every form of war. At one time the county commissioners levied a tax to pay bounties to men who volunteered in the armv ; this tax we also refused to pay, and it was not collected . Another form of contributing was for the support of the wives and children of the men in the army, and especially for the widows of those who lost their lives in the seiwice. All this we refused to pay, and we found ourselves antagonizing the opinions, and in some cases, incurring the hatred of many in the com- munity. We felt this keenly, but the Lord was with us in the midst of all our trial of faith, but as the war went on, and the very life of the nation seemed at stake, we found that we must adhere unflinchingly to our convictions of duty. There was one thing we found to do, and we did it faithfully without once thinking of l>eing credited for OF ADDISON COFFIN. 123 it. There were luaiiy poor widows and orphans not connected with the war, and in the intense excitement over military movements in the terrible conflict, thib class of the poor were entirely overlooked, and were suffering. To them we gave the haiidof help, and their heartfelt thanks more than repaid us. At the close oi the war, when the comnumity again settled down to real life, and accounts were cast up it was found that Job Hadley and I had done more in charity than any of the others, and we felt happier in having done so than they seemed to feel. Though not active in promoting and sustaining the war, I was not idle, nor wholly disconnected with it; many times I assisted parents in finding where their sons were stationed in the army, or where they had fallen; or in counseling how to get the remains brought home for burial, etc. Sometimes a more serious matter would come to light. Some poor boy, homesick and tired of the hardships and horrors of war, would come to me for help and advice, for it was impossible for him to remain long concealed, and the penalty for desertion was severe. Here was a trial of human sympathy. They who aided, or concealed de- serters w^ere alike guilty and had to suffer, but my ex- perience in underground railroad came to my help, and in every case the boy was saved from punishment, 124 LIFE AND TRAVELS and the odium of being a deserter, and served out Lis time. As war develops all the darker and stormier pas- sions of the human heart, so it was in our civil war, every fojm of sin, vice and crime became active and aggressive, one of which was ^ ^bounty jumping." Au unprincipled man Avould enlist in the army, draw the bounty, often $400, then desert, go to another place, enlist again, draw the bounty and desert; this got to be so intolerable that many were shot. One time I was at Indianapolis assisting in getting a boy released, who was drafted into the army; while there two ugly look- ing boimty jumpers were brought in under arrest for the crime ; they stoutly denied being deserters^ or hav- ing any money, and demanded a fair trial. I was standing not far away; the provost marshal called mo to come and see the fellows examined. Their coats were first inspected closely, then their vests, then they were required to strip off their pants, but still no money was found; then their underclothes, but the closest search found no money, but at last the provost marshal ordered their dirty socks to be taken off, th(3 guard thrust his hand rather reluctantly into one cf them, but instantly his eyes brightenetl and when he drew out his hand it was full of greenback money. The money was handed over to the paymaster, and the men taken to the guardhouse; there was a dark, re- OF ADDISON COFFIN. 125 vengeful look in their faces as they disappeared. 1 never knew their fate, but give this as one of the events daily occurring at Indianapolis during the war. During 1868-64 there was not a farmer in Hen- dricks county whose parents or himself had emigrated from the South, but had one or more deserters froip. the Confederate army, or refugees from Southern conscription: especially was this the case from North Carolina and Tennessee, and they were of immen^^e .benefit to the- country in Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, for they took the place of the men who had joined the Union army; nor w^as the benefit all on one side, the refugees received good wages, and when the war closed were better off in money at least than if there had been no war. At one time a company of 400 Confederate pris- oners were brought to Indianapolis from Louisiana. They were all of French descent, and had been farm laborers. They were not. rebels at heart, but were conscripted into the Southern army. Learning the wages farm hands received they wanted to w^ork. A contract for cutting Avood was found, and they were sent out under guard and did splendid work. In a short time all the guards but one w^ould disperse to have a good time. The prisoners needed no guard. Tliey were doing so well they would not even escape. Once wlien quitting time came the one guard was 126 LIEE AND TRAVELS drunk and lliey carried him in. Finally they were suffered to hunt work anywhere, and only required to report at stated times. At the close of the war many of them settled in Indiana. These are incidents that came up, showing the under current of life that flowed on, while the war was raging in the South. After a lingering sickness and great suffering brother Alfred's wife, Mary Elizabeth C'offin, died October 15, 1860, leaving him with his two little girls in quite a helpless condition, so far as housekeeping was concerned, but events soon changed the whole situation. The latter part of 1862 he was called into the government service as. a physician, to take charge of the refue-ee Indians in Southern Kansas. At the breaking out of the rebellion a part of the Indians in Indian territory remained loyal and were driven from the territors' and took refuge in Kansas and claimed and received government protection. Cousin William G. Coffin w^as appointed superintendent of those refugees, and he called brother to take charge of the medical department. On Xew Year's day, 1863, he started for his place of service, leaving his two chil- dren with my wife, who was to have care of them; this she did until they grew to womanhood. In tho meantime my niece, Miriam A. Henley, married Wil- liam . Thomas,, of. Wayne county, Ind., and they OF ADDISON COFFIN. 127 moved into brotlicr's house, so as to cultivate the farm while he was gone. Finding his position in Southern Kansas a very dangerous one, my brother returned home in June to make a more satisfactory arrangement for business. Brother Emory met him by appointment, intending to go to Kansas with him, but in a few days brother Alfred was taken with erysipelas, and was dangerously ill, and it required all the care and skill possible to save him. While he was yet feeble William Thomas and brother Emory took the same disease in a mora violent form. On the morning of July 4th William Thomas died, and the same evening brother Emory passed away. This was a trial to heart and strength. We were all worn with waiting and watching, and some of the neighbors were afraid of the disease, which added to our trial. It was a dark time with us, but my wife's undoubting faith and prayers kei^t us from fail- ing. William Thomas was buried at Spring burial ground nearby; brother Emory was taken home toDuu- reith and buried at Spiceknd, Ind. As soon as able Alfred returned to his post, and we were left with new responsibilities and new soitows. Though (;are was increased and the way seemed to darken before us, the Lord gave us stmngth, anack to the situation in Indiana during the war; as previously stated, there were many hundreds of refugees and deserters from the Confederate army in the StMe, those refugees had left families and friends whom they wanted brought to Indiana. There ^vas also an emancipated colored man near my home whose wife and children had been slaves; now that they were free he wanted them to come to him. This colored mail and several refugees employed me to go to ^N'orth Carolina and bring their folks out to them, and the time to go was soon after the close of We-stern Yearly Meeting. Now, when it was known I was going south, there was much comment among many people, who said the Lord in mercy was sending me away to die, that my family might be spared from seeing the judg- ment that was to strike me down. They little knew what was in my heart, and what the Lord had prom- ised. The trip was made, but I had much trouble with the former owner of the slaves, who at first refused to OF ADDISON COFFIN. 129 suffer them to be taken out of the State, for he in com- mon with other slave-holders had a secret belief that slavery would be restored, or they would get pay for their slaves, but he was out generaled, and I returned to Indiana with a company of fifty passengers, mostly women and children. This trip to North Carolina proved to be the l>e- ginning of my new life work. The winter of 1867-68 I made a trip to the Island of Nantucket to see the home of my American an- cestors on my father's side; the route traveled was by Philadelphia,New York, sound steamer to Providence, railroad to Boston and to Hienas, then by steamer to the island. Groing out the trip was very pleasant, until leaving the port of Hienas; from there it was very rough, a heavy gale was blowing and it was (|uite cold. On arriving I sought out relatives of my name, and was kindly entertained, and si>ent two weeks looking at old ancestral relics, examining the library, museum, the Coffin college, the city schools, the old windmill on the hill, and had a good social time with the people. Keturning from the island, two days were spent in Boston visiting the celebrated historic places in the vicinity, then two days in New York viewing its spe- cialties, and none were more interesting than Central Park. At that day it was a marvel of beauty to my wondering eyes. 130 LIFE AND TRAVELS Two or three (lavs were spent in I^hiladelphia very pleavSantly, then the home run began. When Hearing Lancaster, Pa., I was thinking of what the Lord was doing for nie, and why one so utterly un- Avorthy shoiild receive such mercy^ when, in a moment of time, ^'that voice again'' spoke in my heart with fearful distinctness, ''It is finisheil, henceforth thou art as other men." In another moment it seemed a horror of ^-reat darkness suddenly fell upon me, and it was so fearful that I doubted- whether I could live. For an hour or more my"condition was more depressing than when lying on the gTass at Plainfield, and I was ready to cry out to be released from such agony, when as suddenly as it came, the great darkness vanished, and a still small voice said, ''Thy life is in thy own hands, as thy conduct, so shall it be unto thee," and the glad light and life again filled my humbled and thank- ful soul, yet the transition from the days of safety back to ordinary life was not without its vivid contrast. After returning home I worked on the farm until June, when one of the laud agents of the Missouri, Kansas and Texas railroad came to see me in regard to sending emigrants to Kansas to settle on the railroad lands, and he offered to take me to Kansas to examine the outlook for settlers. I soon arranged my business and was on the way, going by St. Louis and Sedalia, Mo.; the land office was then at Xeosho Falls, Kan. 0^ ADDISON COFFIN. 181 From that point Iwas sent out to tlie. South and West across the wide, unoccupied praiiie seventy to eighty miles, until every part of my body was in pain with the rough driving; part of the drive was through the mag- nesium limestone belt and very rocky. Returning to Neosho Falls, I was taken to Emporia, and from there driven far Up Cottonwood river and out to the Hog- backs towards the Arkansas river, coming back by Plymouth; here, in and around Emporia, I met many of my old friends and church members, who were anxious and curious to know all about my contest with the chnrch, and it had all to be talked over many times. The next point was Council Grove, from where another long trip was made westward ; then returning to the railroad and bein^- nearly worn out, I went to my brother Alfred's at Le Hoy, to rest. In this explor- ation I saw much of the heart of Kansas, for beside this vehicle travel, after resting a few days, I took quite an extensive run on the railroads, for they all very readily gave me passes everyw^here, and it was only a question of ^Hime," when, or in what direction my business, or curiosity called that put a limit to my ttavel. One ride will not be forgotten, from Sedalia, Mo., to Parsons in Southern Kansas; it was done on top of a caboose car, so the ^aew would l>e unbroken on all sides; it was grand and inspiring; so much so that 132 LIFE AND TRAVELS sleep was impossible the next night. In fact, there was but little sleeping done for a week; it was full moon, and the night riding was as grand as by day. Nearly all the trip was accomplished in this way until Kansas was graven in my memory as boundaries on an atlas. When this journey was over it w^as nearly time for Western Yeaj'ly Meeting, w^hen I should be ''like other men/' and there was some anxiety as to how things might turn. There was a rumor abroad that another attempt would be made to put me out by force, but when the meeting came, the spirit had softened towards me ; my sudden and wonderful success in emi- gration and traveling had satisfied all that 1 was not a doomed man. When the caretakers met the idea of putting me out was rejected, and I was respectfully re- quested to withdraw and then recorded^ as an intruder. Carrying this subject forward to its end in the Yearly Meeting, the next ye^r the caretakers notified me that they were not going to report me as an intruder, in- timating that it was getting rather too much of a load for the meeting to can-y. and my name was no more mentioned in the meeting until I was a delegate from Plainfield Quarterly Meeting. Note — Several references throughout the work to the deep trials and* almost marvelous experiences of a somewhat prolonged struggle in his own monthly meeting require a word of explanation. The account of this period was written with hesitation and only at the urgent request for his " whole life." Now remembering his seeming reluctance, we withhold these pages from publication, simply saying that whatever the merits in the case may have been there was left no bitterness in the spirit of him who must have suflfered most. CHAPTEK FOURTH. North Carolina Emigi'ation — Incidents of 1866 in Connection With That Exodus — Opening Excur- sions to North Carolina — Opening up Excursions to Other Points — The Beginning- of More Extensive Explorations. Going back to spring of 1866, it is necessary to say that unexpectedly the einigTation business sud- denly presented itself to me, and in a way that was rather startling, both in magnitude and responsibility, but there came a satisfying assurance into my heart that all should go well, and not one hair of the heads of those under my care should be harmed. It was a new and strange, yea, a fearful sensation to be free from the ^'law of death," and it was still more astonishing to know that others were to be in like condition while in my care. I did not feel that it was my work, but the work of a higher power, that it was mv part to be as a dutiful child in tlie hands of a kind Father. AVith 9 (133) 134 LIFE AND TRAVELS this feeling, and under this influence, the wonderful work of 1866 began. The fii*st company of emigrants went west in March, and was made up largely of men and boys, about one hundred in all. The April company in- creased to two hundred, and was a surprise to the citi- zens of Greensboro; it was at least half women and children. The May company still increased in num- bers, and the larger part were women and children, most of them the families of refugees; by this time the business began to attract attention at both ends of the line of travel. There was also much trouble in hand- ling the baggage, for it was in every form and shape, from a regular trunk, down through boxes, bales, bun- dles, to old fashioned saddle-bags and pockets, resem- bling a double havervsack. The railroads would not <:'heck half the unwieldy luggage; to meet the difficulty I had tag's printed and numbered. A tag was attached to every piece of baggage and the number written in a l>ook, so I could identify them; this was a success, and the railroads agreed to transport, though sometimes it would look impossible to bring order out of a confused lieap, or carload of my emigrant baggage. The June ■eompanv numbered over 300, nearly all women and children, and at starting many predicted that I would not get so helpless a party through, but they did not 3<:now the unseen power that was supjwrting me, and OF ADDISON COFFIN. 135 guarding the emisfrants. The business was now ex- citing fi:en'eral attention ; tho raih-oads realized that new aiTangements would have to be made to accommodate the travel and carry the bagg'ag'e. I saw the necessity of having through emigrant tickets, special baggage cars, and the emigrant cars attached to the rear of the trains, etc., etc. This was soon accomplished, and emi- grant tickets were made from Greensboro to fourteen points in the Northwest, in Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Missouri and Kansas. By this time the business had assumed large pro- portions, in fact, ''very" large in the imagination of those not intimately acquainted with it. Railroads in the West having land grants sent agents and passes to me to solicit me to send some of my emigrants to settle their lands. People in Xorth Carolina thought I owned the train that took the parties West, and manv boys and young men applied for a chance to work' their passage West, and some even wrote to me asking for ompiovment as locomotive engineers. All through North Carolina, Coffin^s emi2:rant train became almost a fixed institution, and in spite of all my explanations, was not rightly understood by any but the railroad managers, some of whom have manv amusing memor- ies of the uncouth and untrained crowds that filled some of the cars. The devastation of the war had left the country threadbare in every sense, and many of the 186 LIFE AND TRAVELS emigrants looked and were &o; added to this tlieir eager, anxious wondering countenances, when they realized thev had found Coffin's train, often made a picture to be remembered. From June the companies increased until they made a train load. Through July, August and Sep- tember the women and children outnumbered the men and boys two to one, and my w^ork, care and responsi- bility increased almost l>eyond my ability to manage; sometimes twenty different persons in the Xorthwest would send money to bring families and relatives to them, and very often there was not enough money sent, and I was called on for help; in this way I paid out much of my earnings, and rarely ever received a return. Many times there were mothers with four to six children going to husband and friends. They had never traveled l)efore, and they were full of anxiety about their safety, and still more concerned as to hoAv they were to know where to stop and what to do when " they stopped; to some it was difficult to understand how I could know when and where to put so many peo- ple off, and tell them what to do. With several hun- dred passengers of this kind, it was a severe tax on my jK>wer of endurance, and often there was no chance to get any sleep between Baltimore and Indianapolis. At the latter place my obligation ended, after seeing all on the diverging trains, though I had fre(juently to go OF ADDISON COFFIN. 137 to St. Louis, Lafayette and other points to look after misplaced baggage. My checks were always canceled at Indianapolis. There was much excitement at Greensboro the latter part of the year about so many people leaving the state and taking so much money away from the business entei'jirises that were contemplaterl. Many refugees had left debts behind, and now their families ^yere leaving there was less hope than ever of a settle- ment. Many absconding debtors took advantage of the opportunity to get their families off wdth me, while they went by private roads overland. One effort was made to break up my business by having me arrested for aiding absconding debtors in leaving the state, but I had taken the precaution to gain the protection of the military commander of the state, and I had authority t-o take all who interfered with me to Kaleigh to the military headquarters. Wlien this was known in 20 minutes the parties gave up all thought of stopping me and were ever after silent. In September, October and ^N'ovember there were five to seven hundred souls each: time, and the train and the change from rail to steamer at Portsmouth was the beginning of wonders to both emigrants and bystandei-s, then the march from the landing to raiL road station, through the city of Baltimore was the crowning w^onder and a great novelty to the emigrants ; 138 LIFE AND TRAVELS all was amusement and delight; to the citizens it was a procession so singular that hundreds came out to see the apparition. The primitive homespun dress, the anxious excited looks, and the odd bundles and packs that nearly all carried w^as both intenselv interesting and amusing. There was much trouble to keep them from straggling in the march, but in time the police force became vigilant in looking after stragglers and returning them to the station before our departure. At the different stations there w^as often much trouble in preventing a rush and a panic ; everv one would be- come excit-ed lest he should be left, or fail to get a seat. After the train started it often took several houre to get all satisfactorily seated, families together, companies of neighbors grouped together, the aged and infinn comfortably situated, and last, but not least, to make the mean and selfish boys behave, though I can say to the credit of the emigrants, that there were very few who did not conduct themselves in an honorable way while in my care, for I had authority in the South to enforce good behavior, and by common consent it was extended through the Xorthwest, vet it was not called in question, or necessar)' to use but once. On landing at Indianapolis, a dnmken fellow knocked a woman down and pushed auother with a babe in her arms over backwards, and was using vile language, when 1 called to him to desist. Then he rushed at me with OF ADDISON COFFIN. 139 terrible oaths, but I caught him by the throat and be- gan shutting off his profanity. A violent struggle fol- lowed. Though he wat? much the stronger man I was diligent to business until a policeman came to my re- lief, and the brutal fellow^ was punished. This whole affair w^as over in a little time, le^s than it takes to write it, yet it had a good effect, for it became known along and at both ends of the line of travel, that I made people behave themselves while traveling with me. When the work of 1866 was ended, ten trips had been made between Indianapolis, Ind., and Greens- boro, N. C, over 5000 emigrants had left North Caro- lina and South Virginia. The travel was from Greens- boro via Raleigh and Weldon, N. C., to Portsmouth, Va., by bay steamers to Baltimore, and thence by Baltimore and Ohio railroad and Pennsylvania Cen- tral railroad via Columbus, Ohio, to Indianapolis, Indiana. From there they were distributed by six railroads to various points. This circuitous route had to be made on account of the arbitrary rates demanded bv the Richmond ( Va.) and Danville railroad. The result of the year's work was a surprise to everybody but my wife, who saw and felt from the beginning that the Lord was in it, and that I was leading a life for two years above the law^ of death, while others looked upon it as a wonderful achievement on my part. '^We'' un- derstocKl 'Svho" %vat; upholding me, but n(> one was 140 LIFE AND TRAVELS ready to receive it. I had never shown myself to be much above my neighboi^ in any way, and quite in- ferior in some, and to have claimed that the Lord was using me as a special instrument would have been more than the community would have accepted, so with hearts full of gratitude for all that was done for us we were '^still." There was one incident that occurred on the No- vember trip that will illustrate our feeling. My wife accompanied me on that trip, to be at N'orth Carolina Yeaidy Meeting. On the return trip, there were sev- eral old and infirm }>eople, who were trying to get their children out West. They were so feeble they had to be carried in a chair when changes were made. To ordinary people it looked not only hopeless, but a dangerous undertaking. It made the trainmen nerv- ous to see them. Strange to say, they not only stood the journey, but got stronger. After leaving Balti- more a child that had l>een ailing was taken suddenly ill and was pronounced dying, and the parents and many of the passengers wanted the train stopped, so it could be taken off and cared for, but I refused. This created intense excitement; even my wife plead for the child to be let off, saying-, 'Tt will die here." With quite an excited company around me I said, ''This child 'cannot die' while in my care ; if you take it off death is certain." Instantly that well-known bright OF ADDISON COFFIN. 141 light shone in my wife's face; she (quietly said, ''Give me the child," then taking it in her arms held it close to her for more than an hour; then it seemed to relax and went to sleep, and from that moment began to improve. The parents went to Emporia, Kan., and the child grew to healthv womanhood. ''That" removed all doubts from our minds. The latter part of December I returned to Greens- boro and went to Columbia, S. C., and extended the emigrant rate to Greenville in that state, where there were several hundred people who wished to go West but there was much opposition to it; many seemed to be alarmed at the thought of so many white people lea\dng the state, lest the freed slaves should domineer the whole state, for out of the 5000 emigrants who had gone not more than 150 were I^egroes; but opposition was no new thing, and the emigrants left Granville like other places, but unlike many others they pushed into Iowa, Nebraska and even to Minnesota. In 1867 I made four trips, though small parties of 25 to 50 went through alone. The business had now become so well organized tliat it was no trouble for small parties, as they were given the regular emigrant rate of $21 from Greensboro to Indianapolis, and in the same proportion to other points. This was about half first-class fare. In 1868 I made two trips, and in 1870 took an 142 LIFE AND TRAVELS excursion to North Carolina Yearly Meeting, which was a success, and was the beginning of a business as unexpected as the emigration. AVhen the party re- turned they ^ave such striking descriptions of the ef- fects of the war, that hundreds who had emigrated years before now wanted to revisit their old homes and scenes of childhood. To meet this new want I ne- gotiated at regular excursion rates, and soon, like the emigration, it assumed large propc>rtions, and from 1872 to 1880, three to five hundred excursionists would go each year, and a large company of emigrants would return with me, and it became almost a regular thing for excursionists to take home with them a boy or girl to help on the f ann and in the house. Cousins, nephews, nieces, tMuys and girls left without a home in consequence of the war, were usually the ones se- lected to be taken. In this way the emigration con- tinued until about 1880, when it measurably ceased to attract attention, but the excursion business kept right on up to the present day, but there was this change, instead of one party, there were two and three each year; always one at Yearly Meeting time. In addition to the Carolina excursions, there was soon a demand for excursions to the border states to see the vast prair- ies of the West, and to Iowa and Kansas Yearly Meet- ing's, which also assumeKl large proportions, and at length I found myself identified with a wide expanse OF ADDISON COFFIN. 143 of business, and cpiite a. traveler, all of which had come to me almost nncons<*ionsly. When the wonderful spirit of expansion took pos- session of the nation, I found myself in it without knowing why. People wishing to emigrate to Ivansas, Missouri, Iowa, Nebraska, Minnesota, Dakota, Colo- rado, etirivile^es, which were used to see as wide a range as possible. I stopped off at way stations, large and small places out on the mde plain where there was nothing but earth, grass and sky in fifty miles, where men w^ere hunting and staking off land claims, living in small tents and in large diy-goods boxes turned down on one side, in every form of shelter ingenuity could devise, all full of life and hope. In many places the whole plain w^as checkered with deep- ly-worn buffalo trails, and as far as the eye could see sprinkled white wath their bones, which were being gathered in enormous heaps along the railroad for shipment east. At Jamestown, N. D., I went up the Devil lake 144 LIFE AND TRAVELS branch of the road past where the town of Camngton now stands, out into the unexplored, unsurveyed and then ahnost unknown. Everywhere there was the vast unbroken, limitless expanse of sky and grass, with a soil capable of limitless production, and I realized that I was in the vast wheat field that is to bread the world. Then I passed the Bad Lands, or Hell Put Out, as the cowboys call it, where has been a lake of boiling molten matter, and suddenly an ocean of water has been jx)ured into it. It is beyond the power of man to imagine the fearful commotion that would follow, but there before and around us is the result; great hills, mounds, ridges and almost mountains of cinder, scoria, volcanic rocks and vitrified matter thrown, whirled and contorted into a thousand shapes, literally a place of utter desolation and desolate forever. The material af which those mounds and hills are formed is so loose that it is nearly impossible for man or animal to climb them, nor does any one feel much desire to try the ex- periment. Though the scene is interesting and full of sug- gestive speculation, yet few wish to linger long amid such terrible surroundings. Passing on across a broken rolling country with alternate, beautiful grassy valleys and rock^^ barred ridges, we finally reach the Yellowstone river and valley, which has long been a wonder land, and in recent years become of all lands OF ADDISON COFFIN. 145 of the (^arth the UK»st wonderful, since the National Park is now accessible. To get a clear, intelligent view of the valley, I rode the entire length on top of a caboose car, with a good glass by which the whole valley and adjacent plains were brought under re- view. The valley proper is about 400 miles long; the river is a strong, rapidly flowing stream, navigable much of its distance in spring and summer, while the snow is melting on the mountains. This valley is very fertile, and destined to be of vast importance in the future; there is unlimited water power, and it is near the center of the great wheat field of the world, and be- fore another generation passes the now world-wide celebrated Minneapolis mills will be dwarfed by the mills of the Yellowstone river. To the south of the valley can be seen on a large scale one of the unaccountable geological phenomenon that baffles scientific speculation. There is an ex- tensive level plain, covered with luxuriant grass, which presents such an appearance as to lead one to believe that the entire plain had once been 80 to 100 feet higher than now, and that three-fourths of it had sud- denly sunk down, leaving the other one-fourth stand- ing in irregular hills, mounds and ridges, and some- times there are hundreds of almost columns standing thick like huge trees; to add to the wonder, the top's of all those hills and ridges are perfectly level and hori- 146 LIFE AND TRAVELS zontal with the plain, and the rock strata in them is also horizontal and undisturbed by the sinking of the plain, or their being ''thrust up" by volcanic action. One day this will be a land of romance and beauty to the now far-off noisy rushing world. These singular plains are very fertile, with unlimited facilities for ir- rigation. A short stop was made at Big Horn river to ex- amine that rich and promising valley. There were a dozen families in tents, the wives and children, while the husbands were off up the valley locating home- steads. Here was one of the beautiful pictures of our American home life and nation building; here were cheerful, sweet-faced mothei's in the prime of life, with families of bright girls and boys, away from civiliza- tion, away from home camforts, in the midst of an al- most unknown region and wild, rugged mountains, ready to brave the dangers and privations of pioneer life. Here I cannot refrain from adding what I saw after fifteen yeai-s had passed. The eye could hardly believe the vision that opened before it. That Big Horn valley w^as a vast expanse of beautiful fields, dotted all over with fine homes; the mothers' heads were turning gray, but the sweet look was still in their smiling eyes; and above all their girls and boys had grown to noble man and womanliood, and were making glad the now bright and prosperous valley. This is OF ADDISON COFFIN. 147 but one of hundreds o£ such scenes I have witnessed in twenty-five years, some of which cannot fade from memory. From the YeHowstone valley we cross the Boze- man range of the Rcx^kies, and come out into the Gallatin valley, ''which" after all I have seen of other lands still remains "beautiful" among many pleasing memories. The valley is about sixty miles long and fifteen wide, completely surrounded with high moun- tains, the summits of some of them so grouped to- gether, that they form a charming and impressive pic- ture. To the northeast is th-e celebrated Flat Head pass, where the mountain range is cleft to the very base with a grand view, not only through the range, but to the wide region beyond. Baron Humboldt passed through this cleft in his wonderful travels dur- ing the past generation. About thirty years ago a se- cession of several hundred Mormons came to this val- ley and planted themselves near the Bozeman, and by their skill in in^gation and industry were soon sur- rounded with fertile fields and pleasant homes, so that the place became a resting spot for wanderei-s through that unoccupied region. N'ear the west end of the val- ley lived a singular man named Frank Dunbar, from ^orth Carolina, who had been there twenty-one years, and had devoted most of his time to raising horses, but all the time believed that srt, for the spirit of emigration was in the land, and thousands w^ere looking forward to joining the great overland emigTation. I wrote a series of articles for the '^Indiana Farmer," and other papers; also answ^ered many letters of inquiry as to the result of mv northwest trip, which seemed to give satisfaction, and the tide of emigTation flowed with increased activitv in that direction. CHAPTER FIFTH. Crushed Beneath a Loaded Wagon — Fearful Suffer- ing— Called Back From Death — Angel Visitants — Recovery Miraculous. To keep the cuiTent of events in hamionv with my onward narrative, it will be necessary to give some important domestic occurrences, which had an influ- ence on all subsequent movementii. In the early spring of 1880, I was crushed by a heavy, loaded wagon in such a way that all my ribs but two were broken, my breast badly mashed, and my right shoulder broken. When the wagon passed over me the pain was so fearful that I thought it would be impossible for me to live. Raising up, I felt a strange, swimming sensation, as if slowly rising up into the air. This seemed so real that I looked towards the bam near by to see if it was really true that I was going away ; but things all seemed fixed, and almost instantly there came a sudden hush around, and a real sinking (152) OF ADDISON COFFIN. 153 sensation that was of such a character that I felt that death was at hand, as the human mind is capable of working and thinking with lightning ^eed in emer- gencies. As I felt I conld live bnt a few moments, I thought of vnle and daughter, who were in the house not far away; and that they might know that I was conscious to the last, I folded my arms and laid down, saying, '*And this is death; how simple and easy a thing it is to die," and I was carried away. When consciousness returned wife and daughter were lifting me up, but there was a sensation of suffoca- tion that was terrible, with a rack of agonizing pain; but as they lifted me up the broken spines of my ribs that had been forced into my lungs withdrew, and breath came to me once more. I was taken to the house in gi'eat pain, such as language cannot describe. As soon as they got me on a bed, my daughter started for a doctor, over a mile away. Inside of forty minutes she was back again, and in a few seconds the doctor, a strong, active man, came in out of breath. It was de<^ided by him that I could not live many hours, and all that could be done was to give me chloral to relieve my intense suffering. This was done, and at the end of eight hours I still lived, but had to take large fjuan- tities of chloral. And so it went for three days, do<'- tor, neighbors and friends said I could not live. My 154 LIFE AND TRAVELS body was so badlv crushed and internal bleeding had been so profuse that it did seem there was no hope; but wife said: ''I cannot give him up; he must not, cannot, shall not die." Her devotion and faith were very touching to all, who were very kind in helping her and daughter; so I continued to suffer untold agony day by day, with no attempt to give any exam- ination or set the broken bones. I, as well as all others, knew that any effort of that kind would result in instant death. At the end of three weeks my pains had not abated, and hope began to gTOw dim; with- out relief death would soon come. One afternoon when it seemed as though the pain was too great for me to bear longer, a feeling similar to that at first began to come over me, and I was again going to pass on. While Ijing still, almost glad that the hour was so near when my sufferings would end, suddenly two wonderfully beautiful beings were standing in the room near me. I recognized them as being like those I had seen in vision in childhood. They were so lovely, their looks so divine, and such infinite ten- derness in their eyes, that it overpowered me into a feeling of utter nothingness, so that I tried to hide my face, but could not. This language flashed through my mind like fire: ''What am I that such beautiful beings should visit me? I am but as dust 'oud ashes.*' Then in a moment another beautiful being stood close OF ADDISON COFFIN. 155 to my bed, and looked into my face with eyes and countenance that human language cannot describe; and I was still more startled to recognize this latter as being the redeemed spirit of a negro, and, if possible, more sublimely tender and lovely than the other two; and this language spoken in my heart: '^Inasmuch sis thou did it unto one of the least of these, my breth- ren, thou didst it unto me." It was more than 1 could bear, and light and life seemed to vanish. My wife, who had stepped from the joom for a short time, came in and found me rapidly sinking, and there seemed to be no hope of saving me. lUit her love was stronger than death; she called me back to life again, and in spite of the suffering, weakness and help- lessness, I still lived on. At last there came a time when the life cun-ent began to return, and to the sur- prise and joy of all it was evident that I would live. My recovery was slow, and it was feared that I might be helpless and deformed for life; but as the days passed and I began walking about, I was truly thankful to the Lord for another lease of life, and that my deformity was no greater than it was. As to the visitation of the angels, we thought, as in other similar cases, that the community was not ready to receive it, so we confined our communications to a few friends. But there came a time when it was necessary to give it a wider knowledge. 156 LIFE AND TRAVELS Some kind and very zealous f^eople became con- cerned about my not taking a more active part in a religious revival, and that I was not noisy enough in the meetings. With this feeling they visited me, and made known their anxiety. They were not without much religious experience, and I believed could and would understand me. I gave them a very brief out- line of my experience in spiritual matters, and they went away entirely satisfied, ever after treating me with the utmost kindness, and turned their attention to other parties. But this brief disclosure of my secret life caused trouble and anxiety afterwards, for an effort was now made to place me in positions of honor and responsibility in the church, which was con- trary to my wishes and my wife's judgment. Going back briefly, it is enough to say that my conflict with the church was one of the prime causes of . a separation in the Westerly Yearly Meeting of Friends' Church, and there was a larger per cent, of members who separated in Mill Creek Monthly and Plainfield Quarterly - Meetings than any other, and many of the elders and other officers left the church in a body. To fill some of these vacant places was what my friends wished of me, but I not only steadily re- fused to accept such appointments, but began to with- draw from active participation in the business of the church, for it was our conviction that it would not do OF ADDISON COFFIN. 157 for me to occupy the seats of those with whom I had been contending so long, lest it should savor of design- iiig ambition to displace them that I might fill their places. Though this course gave some honest dissatis- faction and some severe censure, yet by being patient and still it all worked out well, and time has shown that we were right, for as the excitement attending and following the long contest died away, we all began to see things with more charitable feelings, etc., and now the few who still survdve can grasp each othei*s' hands with the warm shake of kindly forgiveness and heartfelt gratitude to the Lord that we are so minded. After the close of the war there was a move- ment among the Yearly Meetings of Friends to or- ganize a general conference of Bible school work, which resulted in a bi-ennial conference of delegates from Friends' schools w^hich wished to be represented. I was very much interested in the subject, and at- tended the conferences held in Lynn, New^ Bedford, Mass.; Philadelphia, Pa.; Wilmington, Ohio and Indianapolis, Indiana, and took excursion parties to most of them. In this way I became acquainted with the leading members of the church, and sometimes had a glimpse at the inner life of some who thought their real characters were altogether unknown to men, and I more than one time incurred the displeasure of the good people for warning them against the 158 LIFE AND TRAVELS designs of those whom they thought their best friends. Among some of my ''Scraps and Fragments" are some notes that would not do to publish for at least another generation ; they would be startling to all and painful to many. In addition to this, it was a natural consequence that I should hear much of individual history and character discussed, which would often fasten itself on my memoiy. My knowledge of the Bible gave me ability to enter into many of the debater of the time relative to the many innovations that were entering Friends^ Chui-ch, and often it did not take a large amount of discernment to predict coniing events in certain meetings and individual ministers. It will be impossible to me to make 'myself in- telligible to' give all the events of life as they oc- curred; it would mix up home life, church matters, travel and adventures in such a way that it would be confusing. It mil be better to take one line at a time and connect them by incidental references. My niece had married, and died in 1881, leaving two little daughters. My daughter had married Joseph John Doan in 1881. My mother-in-law, Eebecca Hadley, had come to live vdth us. She was nearly helpless and nearly blind, requiring much care. Brother Al- fred's oldest daughter, Luella C, had married Nathari D. Albertson, and come to the farm to take (;are of my mother. A large number of nreees and nephews OF ADDISON COFFIN. 159 oii'lx)tli sides had married and settled in various points. With the two grandmothers- with us, it made our house headquarters for a large family connection, and of times there were but few days that we were without visitors, who unavoidably required time and attention. For many years my large orchard yielded much f niit, and some" winters our guests would con- sume half a bushel of apples every day, and the habit of bringing in a basketful daily was as regular as work; the going and coining was so great that it re- quired a hoi*se aiid cohteyarice to be in constant use. The two grandmothers being remarkable women, attracted many people, especially the young, who loved to hear them tell of their early days, going back to 1806. On one occasion a dozen' or more young people were present, and the subject of amuse- ments and games was under discussion, cards included. When there was a pause in the conversation, my mother, who was sitting near by, astonished the com- pany by sa^ang that in her youth she was never beaten at playing cards, and possibly could yet hold a hand. Before they had recovered from their astonishment, she bade my daughter bring out her cards; this addeut their lives were not wholly devoid of compensating elements. Besides the large gains in business, they soon became a law unto themselves, and for a few years, during their highest glory, could defy the outside world. Many times they set aside state laws in land claims, and were not easily controlled; Init eventually the rapid ad- vance of settlements encroached on their domain, aiid the small farmers with barbed ware fence, accom- plished more and much faster than the appeals to state law or occasional collisions and loss of life. But the cowboy, like the Indian and the buffalo, is a thing of , the past, and will return no more. This boundless expanse of grass continued sev- eral hundred miles up the Platte River valley into the Colorado, but before reaching the latter it was un- mistakably evident on every side that we were out of the rain belt, and into the great in-igation region. Stunted sage brush and sand burs appeared ; the ever-present red ants, with their little mounds of siand thrown up, were busy everywhere. The beau- tiful green was gone, and as far as one could see it was brown and sear, gi^dng things a look of sad sterility. The town of Greely and its adjoining settle- ment was off the main I'nion Pacific line, but I was 11 166 LIFE AND TRAVELS anxious to see the result of irrigation, as that experi- ment was claimed to be a grand success, so I went that waj and stopped for a time to see and study for myself. Xever was I more surprised and pleased with the result. I at once became enthusiastic over the grand future for all our vast tracts of arid, desert region, for as a consequence of the trial at Greely I saw the triumph of coming ages, and J have not yet lost my enthusiasm. From Greely a short run wds made to Denver, which had become celebrated by its proximity to Pike's Peak and the famous gold belt near by, but it was like other young, pretentious •cities — had much to learn and some things to iiidearn. Prom Denver we went north to the main line, and soon entered the Rocky Mountain range. From there it was uj) grade through constantly varying mountain scenery. Sometime?^ it was. of surpassing beauty, opening out to view as we turned some great spur on the mountain side, showing valleys and hills blended in a vast panorama that is not easily forgotten, ^lany people, as they ascend the Great Di\'ide, are almost exhausted by the raritied moiuitain air. I never felt any unpleasant sensation, but on the con- trary have a sense of exhilaration and buoyancy not felt in plain or valley. At the summit, in Shennan^s Pass, there is a large pyramidal monument, which marks the highest grade in the range. This point is OF ADDISON COFFIN. 167 dreaded by people with weak lungs. Many men tried to run the length of the train, but few could do it without being out of breath. On account of the elevation the stop is always short at that point. The scene in some directions is grand, but in othei's it is like a gentle, rolling countrs-. We were on the gi*eat summit level, and were hardly conscious of the regu- lar, but rapid, descent as we went down into the great treeless region that lies between the Rocky and Sierra Xevada mountains. Descending westward, we reached the valleys of the head streams of the North Platte. The principal of these are Laramie and Medicine Bow rivers, which liead in the ^N'orth Park, and cross the great Laramie plains, and finally emerge from the mountains and start for their long journey to the Missouri. AIT this A^ast pasture land was occupied by lai*ge herds of cat- tle, which presented an impressive view when seen covering: the distant hills and the fiel4 glass revealed the ever-present cowboy, sometimes single, and again two and three together, but otherwise alone amid the wide expanse. A section boss on the road had laid by some money and invested in a small lot of cattle and put them in charge of a 15-year-old son, who delighted in the wild life. The little herd had now grown to 2,000, and the boy had become a man. That morning 168 LIFE AND TRAVELS the boss was aboard the train, going to meet his son at a station on ahead. As we neared the place the engineer blew a tattoo on his whistle. The boss sprang to his feet, saying, ''Charlie is coming!" and sure enough, looking out to the north, a rider was seen coming across the plain at full speed, waving his cap in answer to the salute. When he came up his face was all aglow with the excitement of a twenty- mile ride to meet the train. He was greeted with hearty cheers by the trainmen, and the father was proud of his son, a noble specimen of manhood and a model cowboy. From that boss and father I learned much of the every day life of cattle herding, its dan- ger, losses ^nd profits. As we passed on westward across the rolling- plains, among rough, rocky hills, we began to realize that we were in the great summit level of the conti- nent, the great, central fountain of nearly all our large rivers. Soon we reached the wonderful Green River valley, the headwaters of the Colorado of the west. Here we found a combination of strong contradictory phenomena. Taking its rise in the same central up- land, amid perpetual snow, yet its waters for many miles are so alkaline and bitter that it is not fit to drink without boiling; even the pasture lands are use- less. The grass is so bitter that cattle cannot live on it; even the wild deer and buffalo never frequent OF ADDISON COFFIN. 1(^9 this region. Tliere is one celebrated spring or large fountain that yields the most noisome and intensely aend water known. Yet it is a wonderful country; behind us was the headwater of the Platte river, to the southeast the Arkansas, to the northeast and north is the head of the Yellowstone and Snake (Columl)ia), and we are on the Colorado, while 150 miles westward is the eastern rim of the Great Salt Lake basin; and greatest of all, 250 miles north, is Yellowstone Park, the wonder of the world. At Granger we left the main Union Pacific line and soon entered the Bear river country, where the river is running north, and in a short time came tx) one of the characteristics of this strange, volcanic region. Bear river originally was a branch of Snake river, but some local convulsion has thrown up a short range of mountains right across its course, form- ing Bear Lake, and turning the river back into the great basin and emptying it into Salt Lake. This is only one of many such changes that have been wrought by volcanic action, and to an eye open to such things, this whole great, central treeless territory is full of in- terest; for on every side is evidence of comparatively fearful volcanic activity, and one looking for the won- derful cannot afford to travel during the night. I turned aside at Pocatello, and went north to Idaho Falls to .see that region then just opened to 170 LIFE AND TRAVELS settlement, and which was supposed to be a place of mnch promise. Some days were spent in tramping over the valley, among sage brush and numerous jack rabbits. After seeing the soil and the inexhaust- ible supply of water in Snake river, it was easy to pre- dict the future of that valley, for it was a marvel of fertility and productiveness. Upon returning to Po- catello the journey was resumed down Snake River valley and across the wide plain. To the average passenger the suiTOundings were dreary, desolate and repulsive ; but not so ^\^th me, for there before me, Avritten in raised stone, was the history of the coun- try. In many places there is not an acre of surface but has a half dozen craters from four to twenty feet in diameter, and from three to fifteen feet high.. Those craters were formed when the great lake of melted matter was cooling and crusting over. ^Then the crust was the consistency of baker's dough, great bubbles of steam would escape through the plastic covering, which left the opening only partially closed, and it soon hardened into stone, and there they stand simple and plain as a printed page. The low ranges of adjacent mountains show that they have first been formed, of this plastic material, rolled and twisted into great fr»lds, then subsequently shivered and shattered by internal convulsions, accompanied by volcanic fire that scorchefl and blackened the broken rocks. OF ADDISON COFFIN. 171 Every mile of the joiiraey across the plain and down the valley was full of interest, for on every side was evidence that we were in the midst of phenomena not found elsewhere, and peculiar to this part of the continent and the world, so far as known to mough all the interven- ing veal's the hope of one day reacliing there had never left me: and now I felt a gk>w of exultation and OF ADDISON COFFIN. 175 thankfulness that I had at last realized my life dream, and a& the train whirled past and through the ever- changing scenes, down the magnificent river, my joy can better be imagined than expressed. The impulse ^vithin was to g-ive erne long, continuous shout of victory. In this overland trip there were three other ex- plorers who, in like manner, were aliA'e to all that parsed. One was an enthusiast on the bee culture; then there was the man who dealt in blooded horses, and a shrewd real estate man. When w^e landed at Portland all were full to overflowing and eager to s.ee the promised land, but before parting we agreed to meet again and compare notes. The man inter- ested in bees W' ent up and over the Coast range to the west to the honey belt; the horse dealer went into ecstasies over the splendid hor&e§ seen in Portland, and from there he went up the gTand Willamette Valley; the real estate man became incog, with eyes and ears open, while I spread out up the valley, and among- the fo<>thills and immense forests. I had. several objective points and purj)0ses, one of which was the government Indian school, five miles north of Salem, the capital, where I found my old friend, W. F. Harvey, and my young cousin, William Y. Coffin, the former superintending physician, the latter super- intendent in charge of the. school. A few days were 176 LIFE AND TRAVELS Spent at the selivas a magnificent forest of giant trees that looked as though it would be a sin to destroy for any purpose or under any pretense. While at the sch(X>l a telegram was telephoned from Salem for me from my son in Carson, Xevada, inquiring whether I was in that part of the world, l^pon replying, another came asking when I could meet him at the Lick House, San Francisco. The time tables of the sailing of steamei*s was consulted, and a date fixed for me to sail from Portland. This shoii)ened my stay in Oregon a few days, but I was the more active in exploring. At Salem the State Fair was in full tide, where all kinds of possible, and a few impossible, productions were on exhibition; but among the many gi-and things the display of fruit was the finest I had ever seen, apples, pears, cherries, OF ADDJSON COFFIN. 177 ])niii('?^, }>hmiv^, (}innc'es and hardy varieties of small fruits. My knowledge of fruit told me at once that Oregon was destined to lead the world in these va- rieties, and subsequent results have proved it. AVhile at Salem 1 saw a cowbov pen-form a feat of eourag-e and skill that was wonderful. Two very large and poAverful horses harnessed to an express wagon took fright, and dashed off at breakneck speed, and the driver was powerless to do anything. The cowboy was sitting on his small, wiry horse, looking at a train of cars coming in. His attention w^as called to the runaway team by the shouting. He looked for a moment, took in the situation, then dashed after them like a flash and was soon beside the off horse, which he caught by the bridle and jerked its head up and back. At the same time he swung about four feet of the end of his lanat like a whip lash across the nose of the other horse. In thirty or forty steps he brought them to a dead halt, then briefly said to the excited driver, ^'Xow you haye them," and can- tered slowly back to his former position. But it is due his intelligent horse to say of it that it acted its part as though it understood just what must be done and how to do it. While the rider's hands were both employed with the horses, it kept its place, and at the right moment braced itself for the flnal 178 LIFE AND TRAVELS tug that brought them around. The sagacity of those trained horses is marvelous. Another example of a cowboy and his horse. A large, stamj^eding steer had been lassoed, but in the first frantic stiTiggle it threw the horse and rider in the road. The man was somewhat shaken up, but the horse sprang to its feet, tightened the lasso, and kept the infuriated animal in the road, and had taken it successfully nearly a mile before over-taken by its master. Sometimes the steer would make a des- perate lunge and try to gore the horse, but it always dashed off in the. right direction, keeping the lasso taut, and often gaining a hundred yards of headway by this maneuver. Every effort of the steer to break away was promptly and intelligently thwarted. No man could have done better. The lasso was firmly fastened to the saddle, which was as firmly fastened to the horse. In many instances these horses have displayed as much discernment as the best shepherd dog in herding cattle and sheep. The time to leave Oregon was so arranged that I could meet my fellow-explorers at Portland, and we had a very interesting meeting. The informa- tion received and given was invaluable. It was al- most like an actual experience, and each felt that it was reliable. Xone were so completely enthused as the bee culturist ; he had seen whole car loads of honey OF ADDISON COFFIN. 179 shipped bv one iiiaii; it was something ahnost beyond belief, but he was henceforth to be an Oregon bee keeper, llie horse dealer had selected the Kogue River valley for a blooded horse farm. The real estate man saw what has since come to ])ass — the growth of East Portland and the fortunes to be thus gained — and he is now happy at the thought of his foresight. While I related all that had been seen and done, l)ut withheld judgment until 1 had seen more, though agreeing with the convictions and conclusions of my friends. I took steamer at Portland for San Francisco, the overland railroad not being completed at that time. In crossing the bar at the mouth of the river a strong mnd was blowing, making a chop sea, which caused the steamer to lay off from land and run well out to sea. Though rough, there was nothing sensational about the voyage, excepting to those who had genuine sea sickness. To them there were many sensational periods, and probably memories not yet gone. One day a school of whales, a dozen or more, passed us. One large fellow rose ^\nthin fifty feet of the ship and spouted his two jets of water high in the air; then laid almost still a minute or more, taking in his long breath of fresh air; then, with a sudden, rolling plunge was out of sight. Although the steamer was making good speed and going the same way, the .whales soon 180 LIFE AND TRAVELS disappeared in the distance ahead, the last jets of water, as seen through the glass, not rising but six to ten feet above the waves. The approach to the Golden Gate was full of interest aside from the natural scenery and wonderful topographical surroundings. In one of my aerial dreams, or clairvoyant ^dsions, I had seemed to stand with Milton Hadley on a hill and look out to sea through the Golden Gate into the past years; hence I was anxious to see all the islands and hilltops that surrounded the bay. ^^^len I reached the landing, my son, and his wife met me at the gangwav and we had a happy meeting, for it had been several years since he had gone west, and I was channed and de- lighted to meet his beautiful young wife. She was one of the few to whom the best of photographs do not do justice. For a few days my son showed me the wonders of the city and its surroundings. One of ihe points which engaged our attention was the Cliff House, across the neck of the coast, where hundreds of bark- ing seals occupied a group of rocks rising out of the water near shore. They keep up a constant noise very much like fox hounds on a hot trail. These seals are protected by the government, and are about all that have escaped destruction. We next viewed the scene of the sand lot speculation. Twenty-five or thirty OF ADDISON COFFIN. 181 vears ago the city undertook — wiuit was looked ii}n;ii as one of the most stupendous humbugs of the time — to remove som€ sand hills ai.d Jill up a part of the bav. The project entered into local and state politics, and was long drawn out and violent; but the sand hills were plucked up and cast into the spot selected, and now the bay is filled. The place where the sand hills stood is now the center of business, and the most valuable property in the city. The whole place was interesting to me, for my brother-in-law, Milton Hadley, was one of the leaders in the rebellion in the early days, when honest people arose in arms to expel the blacklegs, swindlers and robbei-s who had control of the city and state; but this has gone into history and need not be repeated. It was interesting to see the place where the citizens built the gunny-bag fort and established their head- quarters, tried, condemned and hanged the robbers. San Francisco is one of the two wonderful cities of the world where two or more people from every civilized nation can meet and talk together; the cli- mate is not too cold for those from the tropics, nor too warm for those from the poles. Cairo, in Egypt, is the other city. We next went to Carson City, Nevada, my son^s home, where I spent some weeks among the wild mountains. I made a trip by Tucker to and around Lake Zahoe, one of the strange lake phenomena not ^ 12 182 LIFE A>sD TRAVELS easily explained. It is 6,200 feet above the sea level, amid snow and ice; yet its waters never freeze, no matter liow cold the atmosphere. It is nearly 2,000 feet deep aiid surrounded by mountain peaks, and believed by many to be the extinct crater and outlet to a vast volcanic area, though twenty miles long and twelve wide. Xear Carson City is another remarkable object not surpassed in any corner of the eai'th. It is the footprints of men, animals and birds found in a solid rock formation,, when excavating in the yard of the State piison. When I first saw these imprints of a past geologic age it filled me \^'i-:h inexpressible aston- ishment, for here were traces of beings who had existed long, long before the fossil forms on John Day river had seen the light. They were back of the prison buildings, where the heavy sandstone rises in a hill 60 to 100 feet high. An acre or more had been ex- cavated for building stone twenty to thirty feet at the east, south and west walls. As thej progressed the layers of stone varied in thickness from two to six feet. At the depth mentioned a layer was uncovered showing footprints of huge elephants, giant men, in- numerable birds, deer, horses, dogs or wolves, a huge elk, a gigantic bird, and other wholly unknown ani- mals. The tracks had been made in a stiff clay, about six inches deep; then it hardened and had been covered OF ADDISON COFFIN. 183 bv a deposit of what the rock was formed, thus pre- serving the foot marks in perfect condition, and when the layer above was quarried there was the mold on the under side. The elephant's tracks w^ere tw^enty- t wo inches in diameter; the men eighteen inches long, eight inches wide at toe^ and six at heel; the other impressions of known animals were similar to those of the present day. Under this formation, which was two feet thick, the same kind of marks were found on the stratmn below, but double in quantity. In one case a child had been led by the parent, leaving perfect footprints. The tracks are scattered thickly over the space. The animals seemed to have crossed, and recrossed in every direction. Then men, or people, appeared to have walked singly or in groups. Near the west side of the yard an elephant had died and left an outline of its form, and several frag- ments of its tusk were left :K'ar by. It-:- mate li'.id 'p- parently, from the marks, remained by it lor some time, helping. Sixteen horses had gone by in a com- pany, all close together and in a direct line; they appear to have been the last to pass. One unknown animal left a roundish track nearly eight inches in diameter, wholly different from all the others, and from anything now living or among fossil remains yet discovered. These footprints open up a new chapter to geolo- 184 LIFE AND TRAVELS gists, and reveal the existericc of animals in a time heretofore unknown, and the presence of man in an age and under circumstances inexplicable. I was so interested in this discovery that I charged my mem- ory with the whole picture so it would not fade, and on amving at home drew a chart and had it engraved and printed. It was fortunate T did so, for when I last visited the prison yard, in 1(S93, it had heen dragged over with heavy stones, carts and wagons, and all marks were destroyed excepting a few near the east wall and close to what was then the south- west corner. The time may come when it \vi\\ be a good thing that I inherited a fine memory and pre- served a chart of these impressions. Twenty miles north of Carson City is Steam Ix^at hill, a miniature Yellowstone Park. Covering a space of eighty or one hundred acres of foot hills, there is a display of small geysers, boiling pools of water, steam jets shooting into the air; lon^', irregular, ragged fissures, from which sulphurous and poison- ous gases escape, with low, rumbling noises from far below, so that the hill trembles. Streams of boiling water issue from fantastically-shaped fountains, and deposit various colored and different kirxls of sediuierit down the side of the hill. In many places lime many feet deep has been found, with a curious mingling of other deposits. Steamboat Hill- is the extreme south- OF ADDISON COFFIN. 185 west end of the last lake of fire, of which Norris hmn, in Yellowstone Park, is the central vent, and the Bad Lands the far nxDrtheast extremity; and it is wonderful to see that the evidence there is of the fearful vol- canic activity, which has been witnessed by this part of the world. It is truly the land of fire. Still another object of much interest is the lum- ber flumes, by which lumber and wood are floated from long distances from among and up on the moun- tains. Flumes are like a big trough, shaped about three feet deep and water tight. They are construct- ed to cross deep gorges and descend steep inclines, finally delivering the lumber in the valley or out on the plain. There is one twenty-four miles long near Carson City, down which is floated millions of feet of lumber and hundreds of thousands of cords of wood. This to home people, in eastern states, would seem almost beyond belief. While stopping with my son, I one day deter- mined to explore the winding flume to its terminus, several thousand feet above the valley. I found it quite a dangerous and adventurous trip, although there were men stationed in little watch houses at short. inter\'als to prevent jams in the flume. Yet there were points from which I almost shrank in terror; places where it was carried across gorges and along the face of cliffs on trestle work fifty to sixty feet 186 LIFE AND. TRAVELS higli, with nothing but a ten-inch boai'd to walk upon. Sometimes it passed under overhanging rocks that shut out the sun and almost daylight, but I persevered, for I had had some experience in walking narrow ways through life. Besides, the watchmen were sur- prised and delighted to see me come their way, as it was a rare thing for them to see any one from the outside in this lonely place. With fre(iuent rest^ and counsel from the watch- xiien, I reached the summit by the middle of the .afternoon ; then went down to Glennbrook, three miles away, on Lake Tahoe, spent the night, and walked back down the flume n-ext day ; not only to the sui'prise .and delight of the lone watchmen, who greeted me with hearty friendship, but in the city people were astonished at the performance, and for a time the fe^t was a noted event, and went the round of news. It was truly an interesting trip, and is stamped upon .the memor\\ There were many scenes of wild beauty and many of gloom and teiTor, and it was one of the practical lessons that could not be leameecame oppressive, as hour after hour we sped forward over the almost dead level of sand and coarse gravel. Yet all that expanse of present sterility has 188 LIFE AND TRAVELS within itself capabilities that se-em little less than miraculous. With water supplied in the proper quan- tity and right time, that desert is more productive than the richest valleys of the world, for just below its apparently barren surface is a mixture of volcanic ashe^ and tufa, that gives it inexhaustible fertility. This opens up a line of thought in which the imagin- ation can picture the ideal of the region, when it shall bud and blossom into life and be again peopled with millions. In Southern New Mexico is one of the wonderful phenomena that will one day attract much attention, and possibly become a national problem. It is the long line of sandhills which are slowly advancing northwards before the prevailing winds. The sand covers and destroys every' living thing, and the for- ward movement is so sure and regular that it can be calculated with measurable certainty. For hun- dreds of miles southward its track can be traced, as it has slowly ground its way over rocks and hills, across vallevs and streams, along the base of moun- tains ; ever\^^here leaAdng them serrated with grooves, channels and fantastic car^dng in the sandstone ledges and hard clay, and in places foi*ming singularly- shaped hills like a snow drift around ragged rocks that held the heavier portion of the great sand floe. Several days were spent at the historic point of OF ADDISON COFFIN. 189 El Paso, on the American side of the river, and in Paso del Norte, on the Mexican side. This was one of the Spanish inland settlements, and it, like many other places, bears testimony to the sagacity and fore- sight of the early Jesuit fathers. Though so remote from the coast and in the midst of a wilderness, they foresaw its importance as a passway through the mountains, which, after a lapse of 150 years, is now being verified by the concentration of railroads and the proposition, to build a dam across the river in the pass to form a reservoir for irrigation, that will equal if not surpass, anything of the kind known in modem times. The largest amount of blasting powder ever used at one time up to that date was exploded in that pass. It literally blew off the end of the mountain to make way for a railroad. Two cousins, who had resided there for some time, kindly showed me over the surrounding hills and through the fertile valley, just beginning to be developed under modem appli- ances, and which has a bright future before it. There •are no gold deposits near to distract and hinder its progress. The mn across the Staked plains to Ft. Worth, 600 miles, was uneventful, but full of interest. In places there were large herds of cattle in sight. In the subterranean river belt many wind mills were be- ing erected for irrigation and stock water. There had 190 LIFE AND TRAVELS been a grand roundup on tli€ Pecos Valley, and a company of cowboys were off on a vacation East. lliey were a lively, half-wild set of good fellows, bent on frolic and fun. On every side there were thous- ands of active prairie dogs standing, with owls, snakes and prairie hawks on their mounds thrown up over their burrows. The cowboys opened up a fusillade with their revolvers, repeating carbines and Winches- ter rifles, and only ceased when night came, to be re- newed next day. One of their number got furiously drunk the second dav. . His comiMnions bundled him off at a wayside station, and the men there put him into a coal shed to cool off. Then all moved hamioniously again until we reached Ft. Worth, where I left the pleasant, though boisterous, fellows with many a hearty handshake and good bye. From Ft. Worth I crossed the Indian territory to Parsons, Kansas, where I was among familiar scenes once more. From there by way of Ft. Scott, Kansas City, Lincoln, Nebraska, to Omaha, thence by the Burlington home: having traveled in all nearly 10,- 000 miles. My memory was so stored with varied material, new and wonderful, that it required several weeks to re-arrange and classify. On my return, my friends and neighboi*s called on me frequently to give public talks on what I had seen and learned, and there were some people who OF ADDISON COFFIN, 191 doubted my statements on the ground that it was. im- ix>ssible for one person to see and do so much in so short a time; and many severe tests were made to prove my eyes and memory by parties who had seen portions of the country I had passed through, but my memory did not fail me in any essential fact or locality, ^or did I let it be known that I had fol- lowed with absorbing interest the history of all the Pacihc coast, from Clark and Lems' expedition in 180i to 180(5; John Jacob Astor's founding of As- toria in 1812; Fremont's expedition in 1844: to 1850, and the history of Mexico from the conc^uest down to date, including the revolution. Independence and the annexation of Texas. Of all this my question- ers were measurably ignorant. There was also some demand for written accounts of my journey. Accordingly, several articles were prepared for state and local papers which seemed to meet the want, but our country is changing so rap- idly in almost every respect that a correct, life-like description of any particular locality will not be a true description hve years later. There are points in Kansas, Iowa, Xebraska, and all other states west, that were open, unbroken prairie without an inliabit- ant, twenty-five years ago, that are now thickly peopled, with towns, cities and many thousands of population. In fact, every state and territory west 192 LIFE AND TRAVELS of the Mississippi, excepting Arkansas and Missouri, has been occupied and peopled since 1840. It would be interesting to the young people of this generation to see one of Woodbridge and Maltabrun's Geogra- phies, with their maps, as published from 1832 to 1840. ^N^early half the great west was wholly un- known to the white man. CHAPTER SEVEN. Trip to the Pacific Coast — Landing at Reno, and Down to Carson City — Stop With My Son and Family — Climbing Mountains — Trip to Southern California — Trip to El Paso — Trip to Mexico City — Return to Texas — To New Orleans — Home. Soon after my return from this trip my wife's fatal illness began,, and as stated heretofore, continued on to th-e end, with little rest from suffering; and in the long watching and nursing I broke down in health and strength, and for a time my recovery was very doubtful, and when the crisis passed my condition was not hopeful, but a neighbor and special friend, Dr. Allen Furnas, had sold his farm and was going to Southern California, so he undertook to deliver me in Reno, Nevada, where my son would meet me. On the first of September, 1889, 1 joined him and his family to try what seemed rather a risky venture, on account of my weakness. At Kansas City, Mo., we took a tourist car and settled down for house- (193) 194 LIFE AND TRAVELS keeping and a pleasant trip. The doctor and I had traA'eled much together, and knew how to make a trip paj. From the start my strength improved, and when we reached the mountains in Colorado the effect on me was marvelous. It seeined as though every breath imparted new life and energy, and natural vigor returned rapidly to body and spirit. We wei*e prepared to take items by the way. The doctor was a successful correspondent for many papers; he was observant, quick and penetrating; so with held glass, eye and ear, we suffered little to pass unnoted on the plains of Kansas and Colorado, and few mountain peaks of any consequence or beautiful valleys escaped us. In passing through the Greely, Col., settlement, I was surprised and pleased to see much improvement since I went through it on my last trip, especially with the many new farms and miles of imgating canals and signs of subst-antial wealth. The doctor had not been that way, and I had the honor of being instructor until we reached Ogden, Utah. Our fellow-passengers were as inter- esting as anything we saw; for besides our party there was a man and wife going to Jacksonville, Ore- gon; man and \viie to Napa, Cal. ; two men to Mer- ced, Cal.; two ladies to Southern California, and a few adventurers ^'going west." All were intelligent, civil, social people, and we had entire control of the OF ADDISON COFFlN. 195 tourist sleejKT. We had a picnic three times a day from well-tilled baskets; the porter fired up one stove ou which to make coffee and tea. When we arrived on the smnmit in the pass, nearly all experimented by getting out and running, jumping and other exercises to try the effect of the raritied air on their lungs. Few could stand much effort, and some were very much oppressed from lack of breath, and suffered until we descended to a lower level. My lungs breathed in the clear mount-ain air like refreshing cordial, and I gTew stronger every hour. Though I had passed that way before, there was no less interest than at first. I saw new features in all the surroundings, and the improA'ements were advancing steadily forward. The farms had en- croached on hay lands along the river and out on the plain, shortening up the cattle range. Long lines of substantial wire fence enclosed hundreds of acres of whe^t land ; teams were busy replo^ving the sod broken in the spring; lumber was piled along the roadside for building homes. Dug outs and shacks with chickens around them, and cows tethered to stakes eating the luxuriant gTass, and many other sigiis of human life were to be seen where all was silent and lone on my former trip. This was interesting to all the company, who saw and understood how rapidly the settlements were advancing on every side. There 198 LIFE AND TRAVELS was a correspoding change in the towns and villages. All had increased, some had doubled, in size, while others had suddenly sprung up as if by magic, with school houses, church spires and the hum of active life. Everywhere the cowboy was being pushed back toward the mountains, and his range circumscribed by the ever fatal wire fence. Green River valley Wyoming, was an exception to this. It was still unoccupied, and its bitter water region looked as deso- late and neglected as ever. There was a halt of a few hours at Ogden, but not time to see much of the city and surroundings; but the lunch baskets were replenished and a few luxuries in the form of fruit added. From that point the route was new to all, and we shared in the hew scenes that were constantly opening to view. We all were deeply interested in the 40 miles of real desert, an arm of the American desert that lies to the westward of Great Salt Lake, an expanse of naked, glittering, blistering, white sand, dangerous to cross by day in the hot season. Its glare will make the eyes and head ache, if exposed to its reflection long at a time. Though terrible, it is curious, and fur- nishes the greatest extreme in contrast with the un- surpassed blue grass region of Indiana and Ohio. The run down the valley of the Humboldt river, in Nevada, is rather dull and tiresome. The monot- OF ADDISON COFFIN. 197 ony is broken by the Humboldt mountains and the great sink, or lake, where the river loses itself in an immense morass, which is an open lake in winter, but almost disappears in summer. The California trail of 1849 to 1855 passed down the entire length of this river, and in the early days of the gold excitement, especially in 1849, there was much suffering in this valley. The grass failed and thousands of working cattle died; wagons had to be abandoned and the men had to make the rest of the journey on foot, and many perished by the way. The few survivors of the forty-niners will never forget the anguish of that journey, beginning on. the Humboldt and con- .tinuing all the weary way over the Sierra range of mountains to the coast. When we arrived at Reno, where the doctor had promised to deliver me as an invalid, my health and strength had improved so much that I was capable of looking after my own wants, and the parties my son had employed to see after me did not find me until I had walked to the hotel. The parting with the doctor and family was a pleasant one, for he and I expected to meet again at his new home in Southern Califoimia. I took the train for Carson City_, thirty-two miles south, where I landed safely and was met by my son and wife, and felt thankful to the Lord for all rn^r 13 198 LIFE AND TRAVELS blessings and returning health; for life, aspirations and ambitions were coining back. My son, daughter, and their two little children did everything in their power to make life agreeable, and the days passed more like a passing dream than a reality. There was continued sunshine, and every day more or less walking was done. Soon I began climb- ing the hills, and in a week, the mountains that sur- round the city and small valley, the great Sierra range rising eight and ten thousand feet to the west, within a mile of the city, wdth many lofty peaks which reach nearly to the per])etual snow line. To the northwest there was a chivered by eniptive fire. In sjiite of my weak- ness an intense desire to stand on that peak took pos- session of my mind, and day by day increased. Many trips were taken to the foot hills in that direction, and then to the tops of the lower summits. This continued climl)ing gave me increasing ■strength until at the end of a month I quietly stepped out one morning, saying I was going in that direc- tion, and was soon on the trail that crossed the mountain, in a gap twenty-five hundred feet below the peak and a mile from its base. An old rancher at the foot of the ascent tried to stop me from the OF ADDISON COFFIN. 199 adventure, but on failing, gave me some apples and told me where I would find water on the gap, and probably one place on the ascent. He gave me this advice: Xever follow rivers ascending or descending mountains; keep on the ridges and spurs and you are safe; you will not get lost. And I have found this the true way for mountain travel everywhere. I began the ascent about 8 a. m., and continued steadily moving upward, resting every two hundred yards, with frequent stops to admire the vast pano- rama that was opening around me. The first spring was dry, and although I was tired and thirsty I moved on. About 1 p. m. I reached the pass, found the spring and quenched my thirst, and ate one of my apples; but my ears began to pain me very much, accompanied with roaring and throbbing. This I stopped by filling them and tying a handkerchief on the outside. My breathing was not only perfect, but exhilarating. An old quart fruit can was found, cleansed and filled with water, and after a rest the final ascent began. The excitement and the hope of suc- •-^ess, and the pure, life-giving air, made me forget my weakness, and a few minutes after 2 p. m. I was on the summit. What a scene lay before me. To the eastward, the vast expanse extending to the Rocky Mountains, dotted with numerous intervening ranges. To the far southeast was the great Raliston desert, 200 LIFE AND TRAVELS shimmering in the sunlight, with the sharply-out- lined Hot Springs range of mountains. To the north- east was the expanse of Carson Sink and intervening lakes, with a wonderful view made up of foot hills, valleys, towns, darkness and A^olcanic mountains be- longing to the age of fire. AVashoe lake, twenty miles away, seemed right at my feet — just a stone's throw. The scene north, west and south was beyond descrip- tion. 'No words in our language can express my feel- ings while gazing on the many snow-capped moun- tains that filled the horizon; and the interminable infolding, unfolding and eircumfolding of the stu- .pendous range, as seen from one of its summits. It is impossible to portray what can be seen, not only from that peak, but from many others in that part of the range. I remained for about an hour, but I could have stayed for days had not the return been a pressing necessity. So I drank my last sup of water, ate my apple, ajid with feelings bordering on inspiration, the descent was begun. At the spring the fruit can jwas filled, and the downward grade, with it^ tiresome holding back, w^as before me. As I went up I had carefully marked places where distance could be saved by cut oifs. Some of them shortened the way by several hundred yards, and one as much as a mile or .more. In making it I had a new experience. Soon OF ADDISON COFFIN. 201 after leaving the trail, I came out from the scrub upon a broad sand flow, extending nearly to the base of the descent. I stepped on it and it seemed to be solid/ but in a short distance I came to loose sand and commenced sinking. In an instant I knew the dan- ger and the proper course to pursue. I threw myself flat on my back and lifted my feet to the surface, and began rolling over towards the right. In a= moment the whole body of the flow began moving down hill -^vith me on it. The situation was now rather uncomfortable, and I looked anxiously ahead. Off to the right, some distance below me, and well off to the edge of the flow, a small pine tree was stand- ing. By rolling over and gradually working acrass the current, I gx)t in line with the tree, then went straight to it, and was soon astride and hugging it like a friend in need. Being safe, I now watched the strange phenomenon. The flow was two hundred feet wide and several feet deep, and moved as fast as a man could walk, with a singular humming or musical sound, which was intensified by obstructions as rocks and trees. The descent was nearly a thousand feet, at an angle of about 30 or 35 degrees. Bv a detour through the scrub I reached the bottom of the de^ scent, where the sand wias slowdy piling up among the rocks and small pines. The danger would have been in being covered up and suffocated in the fine, 202 LIFE AND TRAVELS yielding sand, like being in a bin of flaxseed. The steady disintegration of the rocks and shale of which the mountains are formed, the extremes of winter frost and summer heat cause this continued crumbling away, and produce sand flows. When 1 returned that evening my strength was all gone, and I was completely exhausted. The ex- citement of the day had been too much for my situ- ation, so I had to lie down at once and keep close all next day. I did not tell what I had done until sure that I was over the effects; then it was hard for tliem to believe I had accomplished the feat in one day, but my descriptions removed all doubt. That was another landmark in life, another picture that will not fade, Imt unfortunately cannot be depicted. So the days passed until the snow began to cover the mountain tops. Then, like a bird of passage, I started southward. From Carson City I went directly to San Fran- cisco and there made arrangements to see as much of Southern California as I could by rail. The first trip was down the coast line route, through San Jose and that beautiful valley, where everything seems tend- ing towards perfection in gardening, fruit growing and farming. The rich, alluvial soil, under intelli- gent cultivation, is yielding marv^elous results, and it- is a joy to look out on some of the rural scenes OF ADDISON COFFIN. 203 up the valley. Irrigation has been brought to a high state of perfection, and the results are not surpassed by the highest attainments of the Hollanders and Bel- gians. From there I went southward, up the fertile and rapidly-developing Salinas Valley and on to Tem- pleton and San Luis Obispo, through a new, but very promising country. At Templeton there was being opened up a portion of countrN^ that had a grander future than any other part of the coast in that latitude. This evidences the sagacity of the Jesuits, who realized the fact and founded a mission there, the ruins of which still remain. One adobe building, covered with red tile, has been standing over a hun- dred years, and will stand many years longer if undis- turbed. Upon returning to San Francisco I started south on the San Joaquin line of the SoutheiTi Pacific Rail- road, and passed up tbat rich valley and was not idle with my eyes, ears or field glass. Real estate men were loud in their praise and persistent in so- liciting land buyers to purchase in that valley, and they were almost a nuisance on the trains: man^' of them wide-moutlied, brazen, unprincipled and offen- sive. T called at Tnlare to see some old neighl'Ors who had stopped there. Some practical fniit grow- ers iireed me to i>-o l^ack to Merced and Fresno, and 204 LIFE AND TRAVELS tliej would meet all expense. So I consented. At Merced I was met by a former Indianian and driven out through the wonderful vineyards and fruit or- chards, and then out to the naked desert, where there was no improvement, that I might understand the amazing capabilities of that desert when watered and cultivated. The contrast was almost beyond belief. In places, within GO feet of the most vigorous and luxuriant vines and fruit trees, the ground would be perfectly barren and destitute of vegetation; yet the %'ines and trees were growing in the same kind of soil. Two days spent at Merced gave me an intelligent idea of its future. At Fresno I was met by friends who also drove me about through rapidly expanding fruit orchards and vineyards. Here the celebrated raisin grape seemed to have attained perfection both in quality and quantity. Looking out across the wide valley, it was difficult even to imagine what the future of that productive land would be, for the snow-cov- ered mountains told me there would never be a lack of water while snow fell. 'E-etuming to Tulai-e, my friend and I had a pleasant social time, and then the journey southward was resumed. But fate ^vas again adverse. At Bakersfield I fell into the hands of the manager of the T5,000-acre ranch, near the town, who for two davs fed and carted me over the larae farm. The OF ADDISON COFFIN. 205 sight was gmiul and surprising. There were 500 brood mares on the land, wdth an average stock of 2,000 head of horses, 15,000 head of cattle, and several thousand head of sheep. The improvement sheds looked more like the repair shops of a railroad than anything belonging to a fann. There were a dozen traction engines, with as many threshers and separators, and binders and mowers by the score. One raili-oad harvester cut, threshed and stacked up the grain while moving as fast as the average trot of a horse. The long line of hay ricks, straw ricks and other kinds of food indicated the amount it took to feed their live stock. The garden where the vegetables were raised covered five acres, and the eating house was like an immense hotel. While there I witnessed their mode of branding the colts. They were all in small pens for easy handling. With a hot iron they marked each one on the neck under the mane, with the date, age and the number; this was entered in a book by a clerk standing by. It was often times visible for life, and served as a means of identification and of tracing pedigree. They fur- nished a salesman 300 hoi*ses per year in San Fran- cisco, and shipped fine stock all over the world. This detention on my journey was the most in- teresting of any, as it opened wider the possibilities of that country; The water for irrigation was sup- 206 LIFE AND TRAVELS ])lied by a large cajial out of King river. Leaving Bakersfield in the morning, I passed the celebrated loop on the Tehiehapa mountains, where the railroad crosses itself, the first engineering feat of the kind ever accomplished. It was in the forenoon when we passed it. The sun was favorable^ and I had a sat- isfactory view. Though wonderful in results, it is simple and easily to be understood. But loops have now be<'r)me commcm in crossing mountains, and have ceased to astonish engineers. Beyond the loop we ran out into the Mojave desert, a very singular region, where the whole barren plain is covered thickly with sand dunes — ^^peculiarly-shaped and oddly-grouped sand hills. As yet speculation has failed to explain the reason, but for some cause or other, they give the landscape a forbidding, gloomy look, ^o one wants to stop there. At Sangus I took a branch road and ran down to Hanta Barbara, on the coast. It is one of the old S]:)anish towns, beautifuly located in a green valley, and surrounded on two sides by low mountains. It is one of the quiet, restful, sleepy places, where one wants to go to enjoy genuine laziness, for the scenery is soothing and the breeze is delightful. Retuni- ing to the main line. I coon reached the far-famed Los Angeles. T^pon my first visit t(^ this city, time and oppor- OF ADDISON COFFIN 207 timity was not at my command for sight-seeing, but now there was both time and the will to see all. Mj first move was to run out on all the short line rail- roads touching the city, three or four going to would- be commercial ports on the coast, then down the shore to San Diego, near the Mexican line. A day was spent in examining the possibilities of that great city of the future. There was a port and harbor that cannot be surpassed for safety, capacity and all such requirings, but the city Avill be slow in building. It is too far south, down in the relaxing latitude where men lose their energy and activity; it will never be a San Francisco or a Portland. Upon my return to Los Angeles I ran out on the railroads for a hundred or two miles, through all the present and prospective fruit region; stopped at Riverside, San Jacinto, Cot- ton, San Eeraardino, Pomona, Passadena, and many other fruit centers; then went to rest at the home of my friend. Dr. Furnas, who had settled at El Modena, 38 miles from Tx)S Angeles. Instead of resting, he and other old friends in the village of 300 people (I knew all but one family) took me out driving every day, or climbing the adjoining mountains. In this way I learned much of the daily life of the inhabit- ants, and talked with them respecting their prospec- tive hopes of success, and saw many examples of prosperity as well as many sad, disastrous failures. The great boom had just collapsed, and there were 208 LIFE AND TRAVELS hundreds of families completlv ruined and almost destitute. There were many skeleton towns and future ''great cities" wholly deserted, and the stakes which marked the city lots were still standing alone amid the solitude, ^ot a few around me were heap- ing curses on the cause of their i*uin; families who had lost' their all were sending east to their friends for monev to go back. To add to the troubles, the grape blight had passed over the land, and the scale bug was attacking orange trees, which was the cause of much anxiety. Taking all these things together, I was fortunate in the time of my visit. When I first saw El Modena it was at the beginning of the boom, before the grape blight had done its work, and the whole land was in a glow of extravagant ex- 2>ectation, and all the people seemed almost incapable of sober reasoning. Xow things were at the opposite extreme. Among the many interesting places visited was the ostrich farm, where there are over 100 live birds, some of them gigantic creatures, attaining greater height and weight than in Cape Colony, from whence the stock was imported. In the company were sev- eral of the original importation, which had been se- lected for theii' size and perfect development; but the offspring had excelled them, showing the envir- onment of Southern California superior to Southern OF ADDISON COFFIN. 209 Africa. The speculation had not been as successful a^ expected, but was paying expenses. One picnic was held on top of the mountains, two miles away. In going we passed through an orange orchard, with the ripening fruit beginning to fall, of which we partook as hungry people only can. Three times in the ascent we found rare wild flowers, considered as delicate greenhous'e plants in Indiana. It was a beautiful day, and the pure moun- tain breeze was very bracing to the invalids, and their care-takers had little trouble in looking after them. In the afternoon we returned by a small fruit farm, and found an abundant supply of second crop strawberries, of which we wxre not slow to partake. Farther on we ate ripe tomatoes from vines two years old, and by a unanimous vote we resolved to say no more about the day's findings. Irrigation was one of the subjects that claimed my attention. My son was extensively engaged and interested in it. He had studied and collected state reports of engineers, from which I gained much in- formation, and could the more intelligently study the subject in the sections where the greatest per- fection had been attained. It is still in its infancy, and it is Avonderful to see what has already been ac- complished without anticipating the future. But of 4;his I feel assured that inside of fifty years the larger 210 LIFE AND TRAVELS portion of our people will be living in the irrigating region, where the desert now is, and the water ques- tion will have become the absorbing and vital one, not only to agriculture, but to future national growth and expansion. At length I bade a kind good-bye to the doctor and his family, and my many other friends, and re- sumed my homeward journey, passing through the great waterless basin, three hundred feet below the sea level. It seems to have been the bed of a former lake, or arm of the gulf, which it is now proposed to fill again by turning the Colorado river - pear to have been thrust up from the valley with flat tops like the hills in the Yellowstone River valley. The foothills are precipitous bluifs and cliifs instead of having rounded forms; but the most singular fea- ture is the immense quantity and variety of cacti. In places there are hundreds of acres covered so densely with the fan-leaf plant that the heaviest lo- comotive, if put on full speed, would not penetrate the mass fifty yards. Other places are very large groves of the various forms of tree cacti, giving the valley anmparison. for 216 LIFE AND TRAVELS the like is not found outside that great central valley. The towns and cities also become very interesting; the further away from the border the more distinc-" tively foreign they become, the style and customs of the people change, the carts, wagons, agricultural implements, mode of farming, gardening, local trans- portation, all seems rude and primitive. The houses have an Eastern look, .^the internal domestic arrange- ments savor of Eastern life, and we are startled at the reminders of Bible descriptions of houses and home life that present themselves. As we go forward the country shows a strange contradiction of prosperity and decline. Sometimes we pass along lines of stone walls that enclose deserted lields, and tine old S]mn- ish mansions in ruin; then we pass the cnimbling remains of old adohe churches, with broad lands be- C(~)ming a wilderness; then, in striking contrast, we will pass broad acres of grain and fine gardens, with a thriving, active town in the center, where thin^ look bright and promising. The ruins are the re- mains of Spanish conquest and church authority, both now gone. Mexican Independence ruined the Span- ish grandees, and chronic revolution broke the op- pression of the church; and these are the ques- tions hard to solve as to which was the better, Spain^s stability, or modern revolution? Judged by appear- ances, there was as much bread produced on the OF ADDISON COFFIN, 217 now waste lands of th^ grandees and church, under Spanish nile, as by the present generation, accord- ing to population. At many places we see where gold and silver mines, once productive, have been abandoned, and at places where the mines are still worked, the natives use the rude, clumsy machinery in use a hundred years ago. The new houses being built are like those of the past, no modern improve- rrients introduced; everything, so far as humanity is concerned, is fixed and crystalized. To thinking^ people, I find it a matter of surprise that n as a room was secured I sought the grand cathedral, and from its highest spire viewed the wonderful surroundings; the first things I looked for with my glass were the old causeways that were so important in the conquest, and the defense of the first conquest; then the lake, the amphitheatre of the mountains and the volcano. The causeways were nearly all destroyed, the lake was nearly drained, but the mountains were there with a dark cloud of smoke ascending from the crater. At my feet, and far around, lay the city, so unlike all othei-s in America, with its thronging thousands, who, too, were unlike any other people on the continent. The greatest surprise was the OF ADDISON COFFIN. 219 oriental character of all the older portion of the city; from my outlook I could see a complete counterpart of eastern cities built centuries ago; every feature and outline of the make-up filled me with astonish- ment. There was nothing American about it but the street cars. Instead of the rattle and clang of drays, hacks and wheeled vehicles, there were thous- ands of porters, men and women, bearing boxes, bales and bundles on their backs as they did in the time of Solomon. There were whole squares enclosed with a solid wall, with but one entrance through a large arched gateway into an open area or court in the center, and all the houses opened into it; the roofs were flat as in Bible lands. All this was unexpected, and in one sense a disappointment; there was no trace of the Montezumas left; all was Oriental and foreign. A^Hien we left the cathedral I hurried to the museum to see the great calendar stone, which had become such an object of wonder to the archaeologists of the world. On entering the great hall it stood right before me, in front of the main entrance. It is a circular stone, about eight feet in diameter, and about the proportion of a great mill stone in thick- ness. Every square inch of its surface is covered with hieroglyphics. The outer circumference is curiously carved into regular irregular figures, then 220 LIFE AND TRAVELS a perfect circle is drawn and divided into degrees as accurately as our skilled experts could have done. Then the whole face is di^dded by concentric circles, and the spaces coA^ered with indecipherable figures of men, birds, animals and mystic characters. There is the most perfect regularity and seemingly scien- tific and mechanical skill in every part of the record. The representations are distinctly different from any- thing seen on Egyptian or Assyrian stones. They are more like characters used by the Hittites, as given by William Wright in a recent publication. Thus far the statement of the wonderful stone is a sealed book, and may long remain so. If it ever should be read, it mav reveal gi^eater facts and open up a wider field of research than the discoveries now being made by the various antiouarian associations. Who knows but the world was peopled from x\merica? Who knows but what Yucatan and Central America may have been to primitive man what England is to the world of to-day ? The world has witnessed more radical changes in opinion than this would be, in spite of deep-rrK)ted prejudices and racial selfishness. To me the calendar stone was most curious, yet there are many other relics of pre-historic time that carry us back into a past, that remains lost, but there is a striking and startling resemblance between it and rrianv of the discoveries made in Bible lands which OF ADDISON COFFIN. 221 belong to remote anticpiity. As I looked into the faces painted and moulded on the strong jugs and water jars that stood around the great hall, they spoke of a past civilization vet to be revealed — one that had the art of lifting huge blocks of stone and the idea of massiveness in their structures; the same thought of settled continuance as the people who are found in the oldest civilization known. Some- times I came u])on a relic that seemed to proclaim its African ongin, and every^vhere the indecipher- able hieroglyphics call to mind the lost Hittite. To my mind, there is not a shadow of evidence that any part of Mexican antiquity had a Mongolian or Asiatic origin. The saddest thing I saw in Mexico was the wreck and ruin wrought by the murderous and bigoted Span- iard; even the calendar stone bears marks of the sledge hammer wielded by fanatical Spanish priests, and collected fragments of priceless works of art attest to the thorough manner in which they did the work of diabolical ruin. The world may never know again who built those strong, lost cities, or by what power they fell, but their ruins will appeal in dumb elo- quence to the lovers of the grand and beautiful through all time. When T left the museum I turned my attention to the tides of life that were thronging the streets; 222 LIFE AND TRAVELS mueli of all I saw was new. The contrast between the extremes of humanity was very noticeable. The pure Castilian type were as tine specimens of human beings as we see anywhere; they seemed the remnant of a lost race among strangers. The other extreme, or the sample which I took for it, was a company of mountaineer Indians wdio came into the city with .small donkeys loaded with evergreens for decorations at festivals. The men and women had nothing on but a single grain sack, with a hole cut for the head and anns, which hung loose about them. They were of dark brown complexion, with long, glossy, black hair, and appeared to be enjoying their mea- sure of life as well as the grandees. There is a possibility that the original Aztec race may yet return to power and re-establish their nationality, for the Aztec countenance seemed to pre- dominate in the multitude, though the Spanish pre- vailed among- the business ranks. I strolled through the market on the great square in front of the cathe- dral, and the large market houses in other parts. I also got on the street cai-s and rode to all parts of the city, w4th no particular object in view, but always looking and learning. In the older portions all is primitive, in the more modern there are many innovations. Modern mansions stand beside Moor- ish structures; in places the enclosing walls are broken OF ADDISON COFFIN. 223 tliroiigh and modern street fronts break the monotony, bnt the thousands of shambling, half -trotting porters are everywhere, acting hoi-se, dray and hack, car- rying loads we would think beyond powers of en- durance, and they neyer cease to be marvelous and entertaining. Many of the articles in the market were un- known to me, and often I did not know their use. Compounds cut, dipped, poured and smeared about that looked and smelled repulsive to the untrained eve and nose. Yet when I laid down at night and summed up the day's observation, I came to the conclusion that there is a measure of enjoyment in almost any condition of life, though it may be through ignorance of anything better. A person with an eye to the sublime and beau- tiful, with all the gradations to ludicrous and re- volting, can spend several months in the City of Mexico and find something new every day, and wi-ite an amusing book. Though it was in December, it was too warm to walk on the sunny side of the street, and ladies carried parasols when out shopping; beautiful flowers were blooming in the open air, and to me it seemed more like early June than Decem- l>er. I saw but few cloaks of any kind, and mine was the only fur cap in the place, and I was called an old Russian for wearing it. Hotel fare was cheaper 224 LIFE AND TRAVELS tbaii in the states, but the food was red hot with pepj)er, and my month and throat at first refused to tolerate the heatexl applications, othei'^vise Mexican food was quite passable. On the return trip I traveled by day what I had passed over by night in going down, and made short stops at some of the old cities: Irapuato, Aguas, Oalientes, Zoca VcK-as; then at Torean took the Mexi- can Central Railroad, going eastward to Eagle Pass on the Rio Grande, stopping on the way at Trevino and Sabinas. This route was more entertaining than any I had seen in Mexico. There was a continued succession oi mountain ranges and broad valleys, many of which were in cultivation, and new forms of the cactus trees apjx'ared; the most beautiful, the Palf cactus, which grows twenty to thirty feet high, crowned with a dome of beautiful flowers, with long pendajit fronds, that like the aspen trees were always in motion, swayed by the slightest breeze. Between Trevino and Sabinas an incident oc- curred that gives a glimpse of Mexican life in one particular form. A desperado and a companion had committed a crime uj) towards Sabinas and fled to the mountains southward, aiming to reach a certain ]:)ass befc>re being intercepted; the road ran within a mile or less of the pass. As we neared it the trail came around a foothill in sight of the railroad. AVhen OF ADDISON OOFFIN. 225 in a favorable position the train stoppeti and two Mexican otMeei's, the conductor, and others, were eagerly scanning the trail. 1 knew nothing of the matter up to this time, but through curiosity I leveled my glass in that direction, and saw two horsemen coming down in view. Suspecting- something was up, I handed the conductor my glass, who looked and excitedly handed it to the oldest officer, and when he looked he almost dropped the glass as h^e returned it. Instantly the signal was given; the train ran backward at high speed to near the pass. Before it was still the officers leaped to the ground; the older ran like a greyhound for the pass, the younger one for the nearest point on the trail where it crossed a deep gully. In the meantime the horse- men had taken akrm and spurred their horses to full speed. The race now became exciting, but seem- ingly just in the nick of time the young officer reached the gully and planted himself by a large rcM3k and opened fire at tolerably short range. The horsemen dashed down the gully, which was dry, and still made for the pass, but the young man made a bee line for the pass, shouting to his partner. In a little time the riders emerged from the ravine only to find themselves cut off, and between two fires. They also began firing rapidly, and soon one reeled and swayed in his saddle, then recovered himself, and both 226 LIFE AND ThAYELS dashed down the side of the mountain, followed by the voung officer, while the other held the pass. The battle seemed to be over and the train moved on to make up lost time, but my field glass was quite pop- ular the rest of the journey, for it had the credit of giving the officer the advantage in the adventure. How^ the chase finallv ended I never knew. Eaerle Pass is the point where the Mexican Cen- tral Railroad crosses the Rio Grande into Texas, and then joins the Southera Pacific at Spoferd Junc- tion. I arrived at the junction in the early morn- ing, and had to wait a few^ hours for the train from the Pacific coast. When it came I was surprised to see one of my friends from Indiana step oif the train to look at the town. I had parted from him a month before in California; he was then going north to- wards Washington and British Columbia, while I was going in the opposite direction. He had made his far northern trip and I my southern, and botli were beginning to be homesick and were working home- ward. We traveled together to Kew Orleans, then separated, and a month later met in Indianapolis again. We were Americans, and this shows what a Avandering propensity we have; my friend, like my- self, had the warm Carolina blood in his veins. The journey across SraitheiTi Texas was not in- teresting; the country is nearly a uniform level i)lain. OF ADDISON (;OFFIN. '227 iiiiicb of it covered with soj'iib timber or wide prairies, ill places well cultivated, in others lying waste with- out inliabitants. It is much the same with Southern Louisiana; the coast is low and swampy, monotonous and dreary looking. The few splendid farms we passed only intensified the dreariness of the marsh- land. My stop in Xew Orleans was short, a state- ment of which is given in connection wdth my first visit m 1844. Jlj homeward trip w^as by way of Jackson and Meredith, Miss.; Birmingham, Ala.; Chattanooga, Tenn. ; Cincinnati, Ohio, and Indian- apolis, Indiana. I started southwest, returned from tlie east, having traveled nearly 12,000 miles, and been from home a little over four months. It would fill many books to describe all that w^as seen, heard and endured. There were many mountain scenes so grand and l)eautiful, with historic events associated with them, that it would take much time and space to do them justice. There were land slides where whole sides of mountains had given w^ay and gone to the valley, thus changing local conditions; cloud bursts had occuiTed on the mountains, producing floods in the canyons that carried stones and bowlders down to the valley and on the plain in size and quantity almost past belief. The bursting of reser- voirs, breaking of lake barriers, wnth attending flood and ruin; the wonderful achievements, the toil, risk 228 LIFE AND TRAVELS and danger encountered and overcome by the freight- ers before the railroad was built; the thrilling events in the early mining camps when lynch law was the only standard of justice; the battles with the mur- derous Apache and other Indians; the sudden rise of penniless prospectors to great wealth, and falls from wealth to want. All these subjects would each fill a book that would be stranger than fiction, and take the reader back to living scenes which will soon be forgotten and lost to history. There was not a day during the long trip but some new discovery was made, some new historical event learned, some new departure from conventional lines that aroused old time prejudice ^and crystalized nations. CHAPTER EIGHT. Visit to the Old Home in North Carolina — Winter of 1890 and 1891 Spent at Guilford College— Again in 1892, '93 and '94 — Excursion to Oregon — Oregon Yearly Meeting — Excursion to Colum- bia— Trip to British Columbia — Visit to My Son and Carson City — The Outing on the Lake and on the Mountains — Yellowstone National Park — Ee- turn Home via Kansas and World's Fair. There was not a day or an hour that I did not feel the hand of the Lord upholding me in my jour- ney, nor did I for a moment lose the assurance in my heart that I would return safely to my home. As before, my neighbors and friends w^anted me to give them the benefit of my observations in my journey, which I did in public talks and at private socials. Those especially interested were the young farmers and fruit gi'owers, who wished to know my judgment as to where they should go to settle for life. To thi« class I felt under obligations, for they 15 (229:^ 230 LIFE AND TRAVELS were earnest in their inquiries and anxious to know the possibilities and capabilities of the wide region over which I had passed. My gift of discerning the ability of men had increased by use. I had learned how to direct men by understanding their tempera- ment. So I would tell some to go to the new north- west, the Dacotahs and Montana, and the great wheat field; others to the fruit regions of Oregon and Washington; still others to the two extremes of Cal- ifornia, north and south. But those who had the mind and will to look farther ahead were directed to the arid regions of the great plains, where irriga- tion would soon transform the desert into a j^aradise of beauty and productiveness. In 1890 T went back to my old home in North Carolina to attenent in visiting around New Grarden, then I returned home. My friends were united in remarking that my health had improved (for I was still an invalid) and I felt that it was true, for I OF ADDISON COFFIN. 231 realized that mj native air was what I needed; so it became a settled fact that at the beginning of winter I should return to Guilford College for the season of 1890-91. The mild climate, the kindly as- sociation with old friends and contact with the bright young life of the students, was like the renewing of wasted energy by sweet rest. It may .be well to finish the history of home travel before going abroad, so the whole subject may be connectedly understood. As I still improved by going south, the winters of 1891-92, 1893-94 and 1891-95 were spent at Guilford College. Local trips were taken while there to Wilmington, on the coast, and into South Carolina, to a fish exhibit at Xewbem, and to the mountains, etc., etc. The Friends in Oregon had petitioned Iowa Yearly Meeting for the privilege of holding a Yeariy Meeting of their own at ]N"ewberg, in that state. Their request was granted, and it was announced that the new meeting would be held June 26th, 1893. To meet the wants of many Friends who wished to go to Oregon, I organized an excursion party for the occasion. "W e started from Chicago and went through in a tourist sleeping car over the Union Pacific and Oregon Short Line Railroads. The trip was success- ful and delightful; as I had been over the route be- fore, the various points of interest were noted and 232 LIFE AND TRAVELS Others not seen before admired and commented on. The volcanic reaion of Snake river was a wonder to all, and additionally so to me, for new things were constantly presenting themselves. The crossing of the Snake river mountains, the run down the Co- lumbia river, the splendid vi-ew of Mt. Hood, the Dalles, Multnoma Falls, the Palisades of the Colum- bia, were all seen and enjoyed by the party. To them the trip was almost like an enchanting dream or start- ling vision. At Portland we were met by friends who had made hotel and other arrangements for us, and the next day we ran out twentv-two miles to x^ewberg, the point of destination. As it frequently happens, I was surprised to find so many I knew. Some were my old neighbors and their children from North Car j- lina, and many more from Indiana, who, together with acquaintances from other places, made up most of the people of the town. When the meeting con- vened, I was still more surprised to find a large majonty of those in attendance were persons I had met in the eastern states. The meeting lasted six days, and was one continued happy reunion. Many had not met for periods of from five to thirty years, and almost eveiw vicissitude of real life had been seen and suffered, and I am glad to say that many, like myself, had reached the glad season of rest when the dav's work was done. OF ADDISON COFFIN. 233 One of the party was a kinswoman of mine from JS'orth Carolina. She was in poor health, but was greatly benefited by the journey across the moun- tains, and much interested in all that we saw. My nephew and other friends took us over the hills and through the splendid prune orchards, that we might better understand the marvelous production of the Willamette Valley in apples, prunes, plums, cherries, pears and all small fruits. The owmer of a fourteen- year-old prune orchard was offered $800 per acre for the fruit on the trees, but did not sell, for he could make more by drying and packing it himself. For a nine-year-old orchard, $600 per acre was offered. On one of the prune farms near N^ewberg, an Oregon pine tree was trimmed to the top and sawed off where it was four inches in diameter, 120 feet from the ground. T'o show his skill in climbing and pnming, the man balanced himself horizontally on that four-inch top, then came down in safety. A tree trimmed in that way the right time of year will dry and keep a whole generation. At the close of the Yearly Meeting a grand steamboat, Fourth of July excursion was arranged to go to Multnoma Falls, 120 miles up the Colum- bia. There were nearly 850 in the excursion, and it proved a very interesting trip. While we were coming back it was proposed that a minister should 284 LIFE AND TRAVELS preacli a sermon at the bow, and that I talk at the stern on the Land of the Midnight Snn; this was done. A humorous minister reported in Indiana that I delivered an address that was heard distinctly for twenty miles, but without explaining that the boat went twenty miles down stream while I was speaking. When the steamer stopped at Portland to let off passengers, I felt a sudden impulse to land and go north to British Columbia, and my invalid med amazed at the dazzling scene, for we seemed to be in fairy land instead of the far off, almost unknown, uninteresting Puget Sound region. In all my travels over our broad land, in Bible land and in Europe, I had seen much water scenery, but the most beautiful that I ever beheld is Puget Sound and its surroundings. We landed in Victoria in the afternoon; after procuring rooms we started out to see the strange city OF ADDISON COFFIN. 237 with its foreign population. Everything — the houses, the business, the goods and merchandise and voice of the people — indicated that we were in the northern latitude, where the extremes of light and darkness, heat and cold, were great and vitality, though strong and enduring, was more sluggish than in the south- land. The next day we visited a large Joss house, or Chinese temple, and saw all their hideous images used in their religious ceremonies; we then went to the cathedral and the new Methodist church, then t(X)k the street car and rode out five miles to a fashion- able resort on a beautiful land-locked and rock-bound bay, with shell beach and curiously honey-combed rocks. On our return to the city, we went out seven miles to where a large, iron-clad man-of-war was nding at anchor. When we came back young Ballington Booth was holding an out-door meeting, so we mingled with the many thousands for an hour to hear his eloquence and matchless power of holding a vast multitude. We tinally repaired to our hotel tired, but well pleased with our day's work; the sun had set about 9 p. m., and we could see to read until nearly 10 p. m. By the calendar, there were four more hours' sunshine the 7th of July than at Greensboro, N. C, the same day. The trip down the Sound gave 238 LIFE AND TRAVELS US a view of the other side, with new groupings of mountains, isknds, and shores, that finished the grand picture. When we returned to Newberg, Oregon, I found a dispatch from my son at Carson City, stating that he haxl business in San Francisco at a given date, and he would hke me to come to that city and return with him. This changed the original program, and 1 shortened m^^ stay at Newberg and started south by rail, leaving my niece to follow later on. The railroad connecting Portland and Sacrameiito had been complete very beautiful valleys, the Rogue and C/hemath rivers, and so grand that the eye never grows wearv of watching the ever- t hanging picturevS. Mount Shasta and its immediate surroundings OF ADDISON COFFIN. 239 is the finest moinitain scenery that is accessible in North America. Its summit is cleft from north to south \)\ three immense chasms, the central one a thousand feet deep, which is sloAvly filling up with snow. At noon Avhen the sun shines down into the great chasms the scene is so dazzling that the eye can scarcely bear the intense, reflected light ; its base, like Mount Ranier, is clothed with pine forests, which intensifies the gloom from the pei*petual fields of snow. In all the region around Mount Shasta there have been fearful convulsions in the past; rivers have been turned out of their courses, lakes have been formed and old ones emptied. It looks as if the m(>untains had been made to skip ^^like rams, and the little hills like lambs." We passed out of the mountain ranges into the head of the Sacramento Valley, and came to a fountain of almost pure soda water. It issues out of the cavern by thousands of gallons hourly; the rock is considerably worn away, showing that it has been running for ages. The railroad company has constructe<:l a fine drinking fountain ; the trains stop and all t^ke a drink. Those who take the trip a second nrae provide tlicmselves with sugar, for that makes it perfect: ]u?t why no one knows. The whole Sacramento Valley is a marvel of rural Wauty. and where it has been improved, ])re- 240 LIFE AND TRAVELS sente a luxuriance that fills the beholder ^vitli en- thusiastic delight, and yet the development is in its infancy. In a few years, when the orchards and vine- yards have grown, the whole \^alley ^viil be a won- der in productiveness. There will always be an abun- dance of water in that valley. My son met me in San Francisco as arranged, and the next morning we started for his home, ar- rived same day and had a hearty greeting from the family, especially from the little ones. They had planned a vacation in the mountains when I should get there, so in a day or two we set out for Lake Tahoe, and crossed over to a summer resort on the west side within two miles of the nearest snow field. It was a delightful place, with all the mountain climl)- ing that could be desired. My son immediately telegraphed to Portland, Oregon, for my nieces to come, and at the right time I crossed the lake to Tahoe City, there took hack and went to Trukee^ on main line of Central Pacific Railroad to inter- cept her so as to save the going around by Carson City. Everything went as smooth as clock work; she left the train and we returned over the romantic route up the Trukee river, which abounds in pictur- esque scenes, and could one have the history of the lumber men and pioneers, it would make an inter- eresting narrative. At Tahoe City we took a boat and OF ADDISON COFFIN. 241 re-cross(Hl the lake to the rendezvons, where there was a happy reunion of the cousins. Then began a seides of tramps over the hills^ through immense forests of pine, cedai% redw^ood and other timber, hunting the beautiful snow^ plant which is found nowhere else, fishing on the lake, or taking a tour around the lake in a steamer, Adsiting some remarkable bays and inlets, where nature seems to have done its best to unite the romantic and the beautiful. The crowning wonder w^as a trip on foot of eleven miles to a new discovery called Rubicon Springs. The w^ay led through one of the most ter- ribly desolate mountains on the continent. Our first view was from a cliff two or three thousand feet high; below us lay a narrow- valley, through w-hich ran the Rubicon river, 5000 feet below the place where we stood. The valley and gorge ran north- west beyond the view; the opposite mountain range was naked granite rock, bald and desolate. Earth- quake power had shivered the whole range into frag- ments; as far as the glass could reach there was not a square acre of rock that had not be-en shattered, seamed and broken. In places whole cubic acres of rock had been hurled into the- valley, where they lay in fragments; great bowlders had been tossed {ibout like foot-balls. To the southeast the head of the great, gorge was closed by .lofty summits, cov- 242 LIFE AND TRAVELS ered with many square miles of perpetual snow fields, which, with rooky desolation, finished the picture, easier remembered than described. Within four years the way had been made to and down to the bottom of the valley; fii-st a pack horse trail, then a cart way had been opened, and a rude hotel built, the dooi*s and windows of which were carried to the valley on horses. At one point there were several mineral springs, among them a soda water spring like the great fountain at the head of the Sacramento river. High up near the snow fields is Lone Lake, covering several hundred acres; it is rather difiicult of access. One afternoon a trip was made to it, the ladies on horseback and the men afoot; though a long, tiresome climb, it rewarded all the labor, for it brought us up nearer to and on a level with the snow, which was refiected in the placid watei*s as distinctly as in a glass. All was sil- ent and peaceful ; the bright sunlight, the rarified air united to make it a deeply-interesting place. But little conscious life ever visited that spot, except a few wild fowl in their migrations. A few large pine trees stood in lone grandeur in a cove at the west end. Ten miles below the hotel is a place called Hell Hole, which is inaccessible to all except strong, ac- tive men, and they need to be brave and of good nerve. It is the winter quarters of rattlesnakes, and OF ADDISON COFFIN. 243 th€ danger of eiiteniig tlie detip cove, together with the overpowering stench, is enough to deter most men. Two hardy huntei*s ventured in to collect rat- tles for t-ourists, but ere thev had killed forty they were overcome by the foul air and with difficjulty escaped from the horrible pit. The river abounded in tine mountain trout, and some of the party could not resist the temptation to fish, so we had plenty of fresh trout during our stay. The return was made in a hack drawn by four horses, and the scenes from many of the tui-ns were new reve- lations; and as we looked up to the overhanging cliffs and saw^ the foot path we had descended, we could hardly realize the fact; but everything was so exciting and new as we pas&ed over it that we forgot all danger, though I did remember sitting down on the loose stones and sliding several feet before halting against a large bowlder. The cartway itself was a inai-^^el, for it seemed impossible for a way to have been found down such cliffs, but the grade, though steep and circuitous, was practicable, but hard on horse and vehicle. We all enjoyed the coming back to the lake, for it w^^as as though w^e had been to a wonderful artificial show, so new and different from all past experience; it took some time to fix the picture and feel that it was natural and real. We voted unanimously that Rubicon Sprin^-s would become a famous resort in the near future. 244 LIFE AND travels" At the end of ten days we retnriied to Carson City, and among the places visited was the prison yard for another look at the pre-histoi*ic footprints, but sad to relate, they had nearly all been destroyed by the increased work in quarrying the building stone. My favorite mountain peak still stood in sil- ent grandeur, looking down on the city, the clear mountain blue being sharply defined. Time was going on, the season advancing, and we had to turn homeward, for the progTam was not half completed; the Yellowstone Park was yet to be visited and the World's Fair at Chicago to be seen, a brother in Kansas called on, and other inci- dental intervenings. My son and his family accom- panied us to Reno, where we visited a niece who was then residing in that city. After a pleasant stop there, we fiually bid good-bye and started east- ward toward Ogden, in Utah; as we passed the Hum- boldt desert in the night, much of the heat and dust was avoided. When w© came into the Mor- mon settlements in Utah, it was a great relief to the eye to see beautiful PTeen fields, orchards and groves, and a striking contrast to the blistering sand. To economize time from Ogden, we ran down t-o Salt Lake City and si)ent a day in seeing it. We went to the temple, tabernacle, bee hive, grave of Brigham Young, and then out to Garfield Lake, OF ADDISON COFFIN. 245 where we tested the density of the water as com- pared to the Dead Sea, and found it the denser of the two. We returned to Ogden, took the train on the Utah Northern Railroad for Beaver canyon, the point opposite the park, though ninety-five miles away, which proved to he a small, dirty, mean place; so the trip tc> the park on that line is to the ordinary tourist a swindle, but if one is posted in the history of the fur trade and early explorations, it is an in- teresting route. Starting from Beaver canyon in a very p(x>r hack, with inferior horses but a good, reliable driver, our route lay nearly east, the first half of the day over a wide plain, with mountains to the north and in front. As the day advanced the mountains loomed up dark and frowning, and interest increased; the whole region was almost unoccupied by people of any color — the Indian was gone and the whites had not yet come. The wolf went across the trail, the sage hens flew away in large flocks, the antelope could be seen afar, while the driver related exciting stories associated mth the various points. In the afternoon we entered the mountains through a gap, and came into the singularly beautiful Antelope valley; it lies between two ranges and extends through a gap on a line for fifteen miles, when it suddenly ends in Henry Lake meadow, which is south of the 16 246 LIFE AND TRAVELS lake and once a part of it. It was around tins lake that many of the stin-ing events of the fur trade transpired. Xear it Mr. Stuart, on his return from Astoria in 1813 or '14, encountered the hostile Indians; on its eastern shore General Howard fought the last bat- tle with the independent, unsubdued tribe of Indians, the Xez Perces, and some refuge Sheshones, and there the last independent chief, Tyhee, lost his life when the last stand was made. We spent the night at the celebrated log cabin hotel, a rendezvous for hunters, amid dogs, goats and great numbers of prepared skins and mounted birds, which were to be taken to the park for sale; the only desirable thing was fresh mountain trout, caught out of the headwaters of the Snake river near by. The old Belgian landlord was erecting a fine hot-el in anticipation of coming events. Soon after leav- ing Henry Lake we entered the pass now called Tyhee, after the old chief; we went through the bat- tle ground, which was well chosen, just out of the range of the stockade. On one of the head streams of Snake river, at the summit of the pass, there is a fine spring that sends its waters to the Pacific, a hundred yards further we stood on the Continental Divide, and two lumdred yards l>eyond a spring sends its watei-s thi*ough Madison river to the Gulf of ]\rexico. This Avas <»n the northwest side of the OF ADDISON C(^FFIN. 247 great central headwater rei>ion of nearly all our great rivers, as mentioned in a former chapter, and it was a triumph in life to reach that spot, nearly 8000 feet above the sea. Onr nooning place tlie second day was on the south fork of Madison river, in a romantic house, which was lined and almost full of valuable skins, fur, mounted birds, deer and elk horns and rare fossils; it was kept by a singularly interesting bachelor hun- ter and cattleman. He was in middle life, and had left Pennsylvania and Ohio ^^^th a set-ret locked up in his heart, and had hid himself in that lone, wild region. While showing his trophies to my nieces, the poor fellow suifered the door to his inner life to open for a moment, and in that time I read his life history. From him I learned that the point where Mr. Stuart had lost his horses and then burned his baggage was about fifteen miles south, and he had been to the place. He was rejoiced to find one Avho knew of and was interested in that event, and by seeing into his inner life, I soon drew him out and found him very entertaining. As a relief to his lonely life he sometimes indulged in practical jokes on city tenderfeet who came there to hunt. I will relate one instance. Some very high-toned sjwrts- rnen came from New York and made arrangements to board with him; thev were hiehlv elated with 248 LIFE AND TRAVELS the outlook from seeing Kis store. The first morn- ing the J asked him where was a good place to hunt; he sent them south, on a range of naked hills. At night they came in tired and hungry, but had no game; next dav they extended their hunt further oft", but no game nor any sign of any. Then it b^ gan to dawn upon them that there was a trick, and made such a charge upon their host when they re- turned. He quietly informed them that they had only asked for a g(X>d place to hunt, l)ut did not ask for game, so he sent them where there was just good, plain huntir.ff, but if the^- wanted game they must go to another place. Thev were highly oft'ended and took their departure next morning, and uj) to date had not been heard from. We next passed over heavy timbered hills for several hours, then came to the foot of a low moun- tain which bounded the park on the west; the ascent was slow, for the horses were weary and the way was- steep, but we reached the top at the opj^ortune mo- ment, for the air was still and no smoke floating up the sides. Our first view of the park did not fill the measure of our anticipations, yet the scene was fine. Before us, and far to the right, several hun- dreds of columns of smoke and steam were rising from among the ro<3ks, trees and distant hills. In the naked valley many jets of steam were ascend- OF ADDISON COFFIN. 249 ing, swaying in the setting sunlight, while the whole scene was surronnded by a background of grand pine forests and forest-covered mountains. In the fore- ground was Madison river, at the foot of the moun- tain, seemingly at our feet, a broad, rapid stream run- ning northward, and sending up from its surface a light, fleecy mist or cloud which marked its entire course throua^h the valley and off among the hills. To the southwest, a few miles away, smoke ascended as though it came from a lake of fire, and the as- cent was very rapid, with many whirling evolutions. Nearer the mountain to the south, a large column of steam rose high in the clear, rarified air, which marked the location of the Excelsior geyser, but the evening was closing in, so we descended into the wonder land, forded the river and reached Firehole Basin Hotel. On the way Ave saw and heard enough to prepare the mind for the startling and terrible, for as we trotted along the lime and gravel deposits we passed jets of steam, boiling pools, extinct gey- sers, with a constantly increasing heat, which seemed everywhere to come from the ground. Though tired and woni with our rough stag- ing, we were up early next morning, ready for an active day's Avork, but Ave AA-ere disappointed, for the whole valley and mountains were covered Avith a dense fog or mist that seemed to forelxxle a bad day, but 250 LIFE AND TRAVELS at sunrise the fog lifted in white clouds and floated away, and soon everything shone in bright sunlight, with a distinctness seen only in high altitudes that approach the line of perpetual snow. We were tirst attracted by a roaring as of a mighty wind, and the rushing of many waters; the sound came from a hill to the south, which was being rapidly enveloped in white smoke or steam, with a central jet shooting high over all. Before we were conscious of it, we were nearly in a run making for the hill, nor did we slacken our pace when a man stepped out of the smoke and called, "Just in time, she's going to play," and play she did. Upon approaching the spot we found the "Fountain" geyser in a state of active eruption. It was a rough, irregular cavern, about ten feet in diameter, throwdng out floods of scald- ing water by violent, irregular explosions, from which clouds of smoke and steam ascended and fell in showers of mist for many yards around, or floated away in clouds. This violent eruption continued for about half an hour, then it slowly suljsided to a boil- ing, blubbei-ing po<)l, but every two hours tlie vio- lence is repeated. When our awe somewhat toned down, we looked around and found we were in the midst of a group of ax^tive, roaring geysers and scorching steam jets, coming from fissures of all sizes and shapes, making OF ADDISON COFFIN. 251 it dangerous to walk about while the steam and smoke hung near the earth. As we stood amazed and looked at the terrible evidence of hidden fire, we saw not very far away a singular column of smoke, differing from all others. Upon passing over a slight ridge we found a large pool of boiling, blubbering mud, or fluid lime, mixed with many colors, yellow pre- dominating. This is called the Paint Pot, and re- minds the farmer of a large kettle of apple butter Rearing the finish. The bureting of the blubbers throws great splotches of mud in the air and many yards around, blist-ering naked hands and spoiling fine clothes. From a knoll near by I counted o\^er 200 jets of steam and smoke in the basin, and all in active eruption, while on the hill we were fortunate in wit- nessing one of the grand concerts of explosions that happen at irregular periods. There was a simul- t*aneous eruption of a hundred or more; it sounded as though suppressed thunder shook the hill and filled the air, vast quantities of water, steam and smoke were vomited forth, and for a time darkened the air and hid the hills. To the uninitiated, it seemed as though the hour of doom and the eclipse of nature had come. After beholding this grand display, we were ready for any and all things, either terrible,- sublime or beautiful. From the fountain it is over a mile to Hell's Half' 252 LIFE AND TRAVELS Acre, ar Excelsior geyser, on the west side of the river; we found the place well named. It is the largest geyser in the world; it is a fearfnl crater of boiling water, nearly 200 feet across, and of unknown depth; a A'ast cloud of steam shoots to the skies, as if sent from the blast of a furnace. It is seldom that any one can look into the fearful gulf, so in- tense is the heat and blinding the smoke; the water is thrown about in ffreat waves with such violence that it sounds like an angry sea dashing on a rocky coast. Once in three years it is in active eruption, and discharges a river of scalding wat^r every twenty- four hours for many weeks. During these eruptions the deep thunder of the explosion is heard many miles away, and the adjacent hills tremble, while Madison river is turned into a rushing torrent of hot water; for many miles it is too hot for fish or reptiles, and the wild fowls give it a mde margin. Less than 200 feet westward from this geyser is Sunset Lake, a broad pool of crystal water nearly motionless, yet scalding hot. Its walls and irregular sides are incrusted by a sedimentary deposit that re- flects the sunlight far more beautifully than the most brilliant sunset cloud ever seen by human eye; any wave-like motion sends up a thousand flashes of daz- zling light, and this is intensified when seen at dif- ferent angles, (»r flashed up from deep chambers far below. OF APDISON COFFIN. 253 Near by is anotlier pool called Emerald Lake,, which rivals the former. Its incrustations throw back a brilliant, emerald light, far more lovely than the most vivid imagination can picture. The im- pression made cm our minds was almost bewildering; the scene was so different from any we had ever be- held that we turned away with feelings almost op- pressive, for it is doubtful whether there is another place where there is so much of the terrible and the sublimely beautiful in such proximity and strange contrast. We re-crossed the river with the feeling that we had seen the gi-eatest of wonders and all else would be tame and uninteresting. But it was not so; be- fore we had gone a mile on the way to the upper geyser basin, we saw new features at every turn. There were great boiling pools, spouting fountainSy screaming steam jets, with low rumbling sounds be- neath OTir feet, throbs and pulsations among the rocks and pines, with hollow booming from beyond the river and clc^uds of steam rising behind the hills and up the sides of the mountain. Sometimes we passed pools of boiling water, clear as crystal, Avith scarcely any vapor rising from the surface, while near by were fissures emitting a colorless, poisonous fume, wdth a jarring deafening screech. At one place we passed a dark chasm, apparently an extinct geyser, and 254 LIFE AND TRAVELS would have iikevl to peer into its black tlir'oat. On the return trip it was a raging 'geyser, throwing scald- ing water high into the air. Xear a bridge over the i-iver, in the bed of the stream, was a magnificent geyser, throwing water ninety feet high; when we came' back the river was flowine- quietly onward as though no fire raged below. There was not a space of a hundred yaixis between Fire Hole and upper geyser basin but indicated activity in the fire below. As we entered the open space of the upper basin, another phase of interest met our gaze. First, we were surprised to see so many columns of every size and color; then it seemed th^at far and near there was a tremulous, rumbling sound coming from we knew not where, wliile under our feet there was a constant jar, with sudden jolts as if a cog were broken in the vast machine which furnished the motive power below. A turn in the road brought us in sight of the hotel, and just beyond Old Faithful was roaring in grand magnificence, throwing a colurmi of hot water a hundred feet high, from which clouds of mist floated oft' to the mountain. Old Faithful is the most popular geyser in the park, but not the most wonderful. It is active at regular intervals of fifty-five to sixty minutes; it continues in eruption from five to seven minutes, then sul>sides to almost silence, and thus it goes on continually night and OF ADDISON COFFIN, 255 day. Ite ea^y accessibility and regularity has made it popular; the lazy, the lame, the old and infirm can see it without effort. From the hill formed by the sediment around it, other columns of steam, larger in volume and more rapid in ascent, can be seen. Many of those columns of steam come from craters formerly grand and terri])le, but some of them are difficult of access, and the average tourist never sees them. We visited several of the isolated ones, and were amply repaid for the toil. Across the river, north of Old Faithful, there was a hill that seemed to be enveloped in smoke all the time, with sounds of constant eruptions of no small power, but not one of the fifty tourists present could tell,or seemed to care, what was over there. They came to see Old Faithful, and had thought for nothing else; some of them were too lazy to walk 300 yaixls from the hotel to get a close view, and to go a half mile over rocks and amid smoke seemed too horiible to think of . We went over the river on a narrow foot-bridge, and found ourselves in the midst of an area of nearly forty acres in extent, almost covered with active geysers, fire holes, steam vents, roaring crevices and gaping fissures, making up a scene approaching the fearful; the hill seemed to be in a st^te of constant vibration. There were one hundred craters and jets in . active eruption all the 256 LIFE AND TRAVELS time; twenty geysers threw cohimns of water four to six feet in diameter, twenty to thirty feet high, every few minutes, varied at times by concerted activity that shook the entire hill. The most noted was Old Lion, which is active at short intervals, with a loud, bellowing roar, ending in a growl similar to an irri- tated lion. Near by is the Lioness and two Cubs, also the Sponge, so called from the peculiar deposit re- sembling the sponge. A steam jet is named the Model from its regular, rasping whistle like that of a lo<"omotive. Many jets are continuous, others are intermittent, but the latter are more harsh and vio- lent; (juite a number have jar-shaped craters stand- ing up three to six feet high, so symmetrical in form that they seem to have been fastened by art. In the northeast corner is a succession of clear pools of boiling water, but though most of them are scald- ing hot, thev are as smooth as a mirror. From far below it all there comes a singular, hollow, drum-like, jarring sound, that caunot be descril>ed by words. We spent twr^ hours in exploring this interest- ing }>lace before the intense heat and noxious fumes compelled us to return. No one who visits the park can afford to miss that wonderful spot; without it knowledge of the wonderland is incomplete, though it takes labor and is somewhat dangerous. There are more attractive jtlaces off the fashionable routes OF ADDISON COFFIN. 257 than on them, and they pay for all the time and toil, beside to the young and sanguine they are grand and romantic. On the return trip from the upper basin we turned aside from the popular route to see what lay in the hills to the westward, and were abundantly rewarded for our tramj) over stream, marsh and hills; there was much that is not mentioned in the guide book that should be placed first. The DeviFs Punch Bowl is a hot-water geyser on a liill fifty feet high, f onned of the deposit of ages. It is six feet in diame- ter, and little inferior to Old Faithful, and far more dark and repulsive. Farther up on a hillside was a geyser which has filled six acres of the valley several feet deep with lime and black sand deposit. We pushed on through the thick brush, low, wet land, acmss naked lime deposits, past a group of boiling pools, on up to near the foot of the mountain, where we found the most beautiful thing of the kind . on the earth. It was a small, sunset, emerald lake, with its raised walls incrusted with deposits that reflected back the sunlight in all the colors of the rainbow, and threw a luminous radiance up into the air as though it was phosphorescent. like some other pools, it was still and sparkling though very hot, but its dazzling beauty was not only startling, but so sublime that it was difficult to realize at fii-st sight that 258 LIFE AND TRAVELS we were l(X)king at a thing of earth and not enjoy- ing a beautifnl dream. It wa^'^ so far above and be- yond our highest imagination that it was intensely fascinating. When at last we turned to leave we could only express our impressions by exclaiming, ^'To-o beautiful for earth," and it will ever occupy a place in memory as one of the most magnificent of earthly gems. All over that portion of the park and outly- ing country, hid away among the pine forests, in inaccessible ravines, are geysers and fire holes yet un- seen by the tourist, and possibly by any living man, and they may present as wT)nderful phenomenon as anything now known. We returned to Fire Hole Basin with a new chapter added to our lives; with a multitude of new ideas and man^- exploded theories. Next morning we started for Xorris basin, or "Col- ter's Hell," twenty-one miles away. The route was through splendid pine foi'ests, over gentle, rolling hills and low mountains, through upland meadows and peaks, along a fine pike road constructed by the government engineers. We passed (Til)l)on Kiver canyon, Avhich in any other place would be a first-class wonder; then came Gibbon falls, Virginia rapids, and up Nez Perces river, where the low mountains are all covered with unbroken forests of pines untouched by fire. It is OF ADDISON COFFIN. 259 SO deep and dark tliat it seemed like twilight at ti(x>ii- dav, and it gave ndicf to tlie excitement after see- ing the fearfnl tilings at Fire Hole and upper Geyser basin. There was not a mile of the journey but had some boiling fountain by the roadside, or if not seen it could be heard in the solitude of the great for- est. Even at the very bottom of Gibbon canyon there were iets of steam hissing and whistling, and one great boiling cauldron furnished a stopping place to contrast the extras that make up the scene. When we emerged from the hills through the canyon, we came, into a wide meadow called Elk Park, and as we looked back we saw^ a huge mud geyser sending up its cloud of dark smoke 1000 feet above us, while oif to the right, down in the meadow, was another cauldron in constant eruption, discharging mud and water. TvTotwithstanding all we had seen before, when we arrived at Norris basin we had to readjust all our previous impressions of the fearful and terrible, for before us was a new departure in all that relat^es to a land of fire and the regions below. In manv ways, Norris basin is the most interesting point of the Park. The basin, or valley, is several square miles in extent, and is now, and has been, the center of the original lake of fire of which Bad Lands was 260 LIFE AND TRAVELS a part, as also Steamboat Hill, 800 miles distant. Ages ago the great lake began crusting over; in the Bad Lands it was suddenly put out and the fearful con- ^ailsions that followed threw up the mountains and formed Snake River plains. In tim€ it all crusted over excepting six to ten acres, which is now called ''Calder's Hell/' named by Washington Irving in 1836. The last open lake was gTadually covered, but through this crust huge craters were the outlets for the escaping lava, which in time built up great cones around them two to five hundred feet high; then they slowly became extinct, and now make up the distinctive character of the valley. Then there are hundreds of geysers, fireholes and craters still active, throwing up hot mud, lime deposit, streams of hot water, vapor and steam. There are a few acres of the lake that have recently crusted over wdth a thin layer of lava, too thin to bear a man, and it was full of fissures and rents, and the whole area seems to be in constant agitation, as though there was a great mass of melted matter rolling and swell- ing below; the sulphurous fumes that rise from the surface are suffocating and poisoning. When there is extra activity among the surrounding geysers, all asin the surface is bare and so hot that we could not stand walking over it for more than half an hour, and the poisonous fumes gave us headaches of a peculiar character that warned us to leave the spot. While standing on a hill near Old Growler I counted two hundred columns of smoke to the northwai*d, and on the other side of the valley. There were different colors in the great clouds of smoke that floated away, yet the colored clouds seemed to have no affinity for each other, but floated away in OF ADDISON COFFIN. 263 separate masses, the blue and yellow especially seemed to repel instead of mingling together. It is the same with the blue and colorless vapors as they come from the earth; though the wind drives the blue directly across the colorless vapors, yet it will not mingle or cross, but ascends or turns aside, as from a solid wall. Much of the basin is covered with a white deposit of lime and sand, too hot for vegetation ; even on some of the hills it is too hot for the pine trees to grow and for people to stand long in one place, but everywhere among the old, disintegrating craters, the pine tree persistently makes encroachments on fields of former desolation. When we visited the basin there were probably forty other tourists- present all or part of the time. It was amusing to watch their actions and hear their comments; not more than one in ten left the high- way, many did not leave the stages, none were more thaii one hundred yards from the road in any direc- tion, many were taking copious notes in diaries, and all seemed to go away happy in the thoiight tliat they had seen all there w^as to be seen at Xorris Basin. Unfortunately, many of the guide books are made up from such knowledge, while the reallv interest- ing, the tnily wonderful are not mentioned, for they have not been seen by the writers. We next journeyed eleven miles through as 264 LIFE AND TRAVELS grand forests and natural scenery as any we had passed throngh ; this bronght us to the crowning won- der of the park, if not the worhl, the Yellow^stone Canyon, which, like Xorris Basin, caused another re-adjustment of ideas, for it has characteristics pe- culiar to itself, and for which we have no standard of comparison. At the time the Bad LandvS were formed, a vast mass of semi-fluid matter was sud- denly cooled and throwai into a low range of moun- tains; chemical action was suddenly aiTested among its elements; the result was all the colors of the mass became fixed, and the colors of the rainbow were strangely and wonderfully commingled. The for- mation is about as solid as average chalk. This moun- tain range at one time, by some unknown means, has been cleft from top to base, making a canyon or gorge from three to four thousand feet deep, serpentine and irregular in its course. Through this gorge the Yel- lowstone river flows, entering from the south, flrst by a succession of steep rapids called upper falls, then a short distance below it plunges dowm a perpendic- ular fall of three hundred feet into a chasm that anywhere else would be fearfully grand; then it rushes wildly onward over a succession of roaring rapids until the gorge is passed. All this magnificence faded into nothingness when we stO(^^)d on Observation and Inspiration Points, OF ADDISON COFFIN. 265 dizzy crags that project from the west wall far out over the fearful abyss, and found oui*selves sur- rounded by a thousand rainbow colors, reflected from adjacent cliffs, overhanging rocks, yawning gulfs, and broad streams of many-colored sands disintegrating and descending into the river, all sending back a con- stantly-changing light as the varying clouds floated above, as the morning sunlight changed to noonday, and then to evening-tide, fllling the vast canyon with a glow of radiant, lambent glory which no words can describe. Any one with the least bit of ideal imagin- ation, ^vith any love of the sublime and mai-velous, will stand with astonishment when this bewildering scene of beauty bursts on his sight. There are other points from which this charm- ing scene can be enjoyed, but they have to be seen to be understood. There is no other place on earth where there is so much of the truly beautiful to be seen in such blending of harmonious colors, and its inspiring sublimitv is incomparable. There were some largo paintings at the hotel, made by a master hand, but they were far short of the real scene, for it is impossible for an artist to reproduce these won- ders or even a sunset cloud. After seeing the beautiful canyon, other \dew9 began to lose their interest, and we found ourselves half dreaming about some imagined fairy land, where 266 LIFE AND TRAVELS we wanted to dwell amcmg scenes of rainbow beauty; bnt there are few places that require more activity of eye, ear, memory and mind than Yellowstone Park. There we come in contact with the operation of forces; new, stubborn facts confront us under new conditions. Many pet theories of the scientists are wholly at fault; they ^^dll not work; cross-currents of facts through all that region come and spoil all our ideals. We have to call into use new^ faculties, and use our old ones in new ways, and then find our- selves at sea. The theory of the drift, the great ice sheet that once covered the noithland, the upheavals and submergence, all, all becomes mixed and per- plexing. AVe cannot understand the reason why, so we leave it. There is one thing of which we are sure — we have a ^^icture graven on memory that will not fade. In parting from thfs wonderful region, after crossing it in five places and traveling two hundred miles north and south through it, I can say that everywhere I saw evidence of forces not described nor accounted for in the books, evidently not seen nor understood by the scientists. The pet theory of evolution will not work from a practical standpoint. There is evidently an active, all per\^ading force not yet understcKKl. We returned bv the same route to Beaver Can- OF ADDISON COFFIN. 267 yon, with no new discoveries. We met an old Rus- sian nobleman and wife at our Bachelor Hotel; the wife could talk American, and was very interesting. They had crossed Europe, through Siberia to the mouth of the Amoor river, and there took a steamer by wa}' of San Francisco and were going home by way of Xew York and London. At the Log Cabin Hotel an incident took place that is worth recording. Two St. Bernard dogs, male and female, had been missing a day and a night; all were anxious for their safety. The next morning they returned in sad plight, the male's head, especially his mouth and nose, stuck full of porcupine quills; the other one did not have ouite so many sticking to her. The intel- ligent fellow went to his master and held up his head and whined in a way that was understood. The man sat down and carefully pulled them all out, and though his head was much swollen he never winced, but seemed thankful and grateful : the other one came up for the same favor. There were three hundred quills sticking to them. They had found a den of porcupines, dug them out and destroyed them before giving it up. They had done so before; when com- plimented they understood and wagged their satisfac- tion. These two dogs had actually killed several black bears, for they knew how to get the advantage; besides these two larae ones, there seemed to be about 268 LIFE AND TRAVELS a dozen otiier dogs mixed up promiscuously witli the children. We reached the railroad in time to take the evening train, and ran down to Idaho Falls and stopped off with J. A. Clark, a former neighbor and kins- man, where we had a glad reunion. The next day he, his wife and son drove us over the same gTOund I had walked over some years before. It was mar- velous what a change had come; thousands of acres were in cultivation, twenty miles of a great in-iga- tion canal was completed; ground that was in sage brush when I first saw it had thirty-six bushels of wheat per acre on it, and other crops in like propor- tion. Beautiful homes were in sight on every side, and it was truly a magic transformation ; yet improve- ment had just begun. The capacity of the canal when finished was 200,000 acres, and the land was there awaiting its coming. Such cases as this could be multiplied many times over, but it will ser^^e to show what can be done, and where the center of wealth and power will soon l)e. We parted from our friends and relatives and made a continuous run via DenA^er to Lawrence, Kan., where we stopped a few days. Then my niece went on to meet her sister and friends from Carolina at the World's Fair, Chicago, while I went south to see my brother Alfred, now quite infirm, spent some time OF ADDISON COFFIN. 269 with liiiii, then returned to Lawrence and went out twelve miles to Hesper to see many old friends, neighbors and relatives, then on to Chicago, where I found my niece had started homeward. She stopped at Indianapolis, Ind., and then went to her kome in Xortli Carolina, greatly improved in health, and I arrived at my home once more, safe and well. I promised my daughter that I would return in time to go with her and a company of neighbors to the World's Fair before it closed. So we- aiTanged the date and the company, and spent several days amid that grand exhibit of human achievement. To me it was less interesting than to my neighbors, for in my travels I had seen so much of it in other places, though I proved to be quite a good interpreter of where the things came from. My chief interest was the people. There was an op])ortunitv to study hu- manity collectively, and I useil it persistently, and to the further confinnation of the reasonableness of the Anglo-Israel theory.' It is not necessary for me to describe any part of the World's Fair. It has been done by so many and has so effectively passed into histoiy that all know the essentials respecting it. In a short time after returning from Chicago I arranged to spend the winter at Guilford College once more, and accordingly went down there in December and remained until April, 1 SlU. I had spent an active. 270 LIFE AND TRAVELS busv, thinking, writinif season, had written many letters to friends and for pnhlication, and in addition had to do much talking at all tiie stopping places, t^lks on home and f(»reign travel, horticulture, agri- culture, women's rights, temperance and children's stories. I was also much interested in the success of the W. C. T. U. Industrial Home for girls at Had- ley, Indiana, which was in an embarrassed condition for a time. I took no part in the violent political contests that were agitating- the state, though mv heart, and sympathy were with every temperance movement that was based on total prohibition. * CHAPTER NINE, Trip to Europe — Storm at Sea — Landing at Liver- pool— Change of Program — Start for Egypt and Pass Through France and Italy — Voyage to Egypt, Cairo and the Pyramids — Journey to Port Said---I^nding at Jaffa and Arriving at Jerusalem — Scenes in Palestine — Journey to Baalbeck and Damascus — Stop at Brumana on Mt. Lebanon — Cruise Aniong the Islands — -Athens, Greece, and Its Ruins — Voyage to Constantinople — The Scenes in the City — Journey Across Europe Back to Lon- don— Safe Arrival and Finding Our Friends. When I turned away from my mother's grave at the old burial ground at New Garden, North Car- olina, in NovemV)er, 1891, I felt that my life work was done, that the obligation was filled, and for a time a sense of utter desolation oveq^owered me, and the future was closed, with no light beyond, so far as work or an object in life was conc-emed; but that night, as if by inspiration, the idea of foreign travel came t(' me, and the unemng voice, a? in the past, (271) 272 LIFE AND TRAVELS said: "Go, and thou slialt return in peace." From that hour I }>egan arranging to cross the ocean. I returned home for a few weeks, and then came back to Guilford College to spend the winter, intending after a short stay at home to go to Europe in the spring or early summer, but during the winter Mary C. Woody and her companion, Lorena Reynolds, de- cided to go to England on a religious mission. They planned to start in February, 1892, and requested me to go with them instead of later on, and this I agreed to do and wrote home accordingly. A few days be- fore starting my friend, John Van Lindley, one of the principal nursery men of the South, and who lived near the college, unexpectedly, even to him- self, concluded to go with me on my long trip at least for a nine months' stay, then he would come home without me if I was not ready. The program was to visit Egypt, Palestine, feyria, Asia Minor, and all the nations of Europe. Few thought it could be done in less than a year, hence J. Van Lindley limited himself to nine months. He was needing a vacation and anxious to add to his store of knowledge in his line of business. The steamer was to sail Febiaiary 13th, from Xew York. John Van Lindley and I left Greensboro, X. C, the 9th, went by way of Washington, secured passports, and then on to New York to obtain letters of credit. OF ADDISON COFFIN. 273 On the evening of Febrnarv liitli M. (/. Woody and companion came, and the next moniing we sailed ont ()f the hay, and were on onr way to the new world. We were on the Umbria, of the Cunard line, one of the largest steamers afloat, and to landsmen the snrronndings were all new and decidedly excit- ing and sensational. My traveling companion en- joyed it to the fnll. For two days the weather was fine and the prospect very good for a qnick voyage, but on the third day we met a gale from the east that suddenly changed the whole scene. The ma- jority of the pa'ssengei"s had an interesting experience with seasickness; my lady companions were troubled with it for some days, but J. Van Lindley escaped almost entirely during the whole crossing. The tables that were filled at first were nearly empty for two days; then the pale faces began to assemble, but they were quite mincing about eating. The storm increased in violence as we proceeded, and became about first-class. The last two days of the voyage it was so violent that neither mail nor passengers could be landed at Queenstown: all were taken on to Liver- pool. AVhen off the west coast of Ireland a small ship w^as sighted with signals of distress flying. The steamer bore down U> the shij) ane sup- ported, but the light of determined . courage was still in their eyes. An involuntary shout of joy and con- gratulation went up from hundreds of spectators. There is always some leader who comes to the front in an emergency, and so it was now ; a noble-hearted man went around with his hat and was eloquent in praise and appeal. Over £80 (English money) was collected; then, when the exhausted men had somewhat recov- ered, they were called and astonished by £20 being given to the boat steerer as an acknowledgement of his courageous act, £10 to the captain of the ship as a re- OF ADDISON COFFIN. 275 ward for his skill in saving his men, the remainder was divided equally between the rescuers and the res- cued, and another glad shout arose above the rage of the stonn. All concerned in this deed were English- men, and from mv heart I thaid<;ed the Lord for such a race of men. When we landed at Liverpool we found the weather very cool and foggy. There had been (j^uite a snow fall, which extended far inland, making the sit- uation unsafe for my health, so the program was changed; instead of remaining some time in England, we resolved to go to a warmer climate. Our lady friends parted with us and joined some of their English friends, whom they had met in America. After a few days we went on to London and bought tickets for Cairo, Egypt. We made a shoTt stay in London. We went to Paris, spent a day or so, then on to Rome by way of Lyons and through the Mt. Cenis tunnel. We remained a few days in Rome, saw the m6st noted places and older ruins, fragments of 2500 years ago. We hurried to Xaples, expecting to meet the steamer from England, l)ut it was three days late; this time we spent in looking at the beautiful side first, then at the dark, revolting side. We resolved to climb one of the old Roman rock flights of stone steps to the top of the hill a thousand feet high. We did not then, nor shall we ever regret doing it, but we do not again want to 276 LIFE AND TRAVELS see the liorrid sight of human degradation, filth and slum that we encountered in passing the rock cham- bers. From the highest point of the old ruined castle we surveyed the beautiful surroundings of the cele- brated bav, had a good view of Vesuvius and the hills beyond, but after seeing so many of our own grand views combining city, water, ocean, plain and moun- tain, I failed to see wdiy any one should think of say- ing, "See Xaples and then die." If Americans wish to see Xaples as it is, I would say ride through its long, beautiful streets at fashionable: hours, visit its stately palaces and churches; then go off into its suburbs and back streets, climb one flifi^ht of stone steps, spend half a night on its streets, with its commingling throng' of humanity, and then you will know what Xaples is. There are many interesting ruins in and around the eity ; to the historian there is much of interest, for dur- ing the palmy days of Roman grandeur, Xaples was one of the chief resorts for possessors of wealth and pride. We were glad when the steamer came and we aboard and in our cpiarters. As it was over due it did not stop long, and we were soon out on the blue watere of the Mediten*anean. AVe passed the coast line with its green fields, \'ineyards and orchards covering the hills, with many white villages partly hidden away among the hills. Sometimes we could see with our OF ADDISON COFFIN. 277 glasses the people on the shore, and the goats and cat- tle among the rocks. We missed one historic point, the Strait of Messina and the shores of Sicily. It was night while we were passing, but the lights on the hilLs on either side of the strait showed that life abounded, and the numerous sailboats indicated life and activity. Though the shores were invisible I realized that we were passing through historic waters, and near his- toric shores with which a part of the world's history was closelv connected, and so I spent the larger por- tion of the night in thought and calling up the history of the past. Without previous arrangement we met several of our Umbria fellow passengei's on the steam- er who, like ourselves, were going to warmer countries. Among them was a Miss Havens, of Chicago, a mis- sionary to China. She had been twelve years in China and had been home ^-isiting her brother and sisters, and was now returning to her mission. We foi*med her acquaintance and she requested the pri^dlege of making the third one of our party while in Egypt and Palestine. She was a lady of superior mind and scien- tific attainments amd well posted, had traveled on foot two days on top of the great Chinese wall, and she gave us a vivid description of it. We landed in Alexandria March 4, IS 1)2, and suddenlv stepped out of western civilization into semi- barbarism. It seemed like going into a new world. 18 278 LIFE AND TRAVELS We were siirrouiided by a diffeiT:'nt race of people, speaking what was to us a new language, dressed in strange costumes, with novel habits and impulses; all seemed to be pushing, imshing, shouting and gesticu- lating in a frantic manner, which for a time was quite bewildering, but by going slowly and acting in a more composed manner than we felt, we soon mastered the situation and were driven by an English-speaking driveir to an English hotel, where we had time to adapt our thoiights to the abiiipt introduction into Eastern life. Then we took a three hours' drive through, and around the citv. We went to the remains of the old wall of the days of Alexander, and to other old ruins; to the beautiful gardens along the great canal, to the old tombs, through the long streets occupied by hun- dreds of shops and bazaars, and through the open, noisy market places. Here we first met the huge, ugly, repulsive-looking camel, with its enormous load, with the ever-present little donkey and celebrated his- toric, but not very picturesque-looking driver. The strange mixture of contrasting nationalities was in- teresting and stTiking. There were representatives from all European countries, and all Eastern nations excepting China; they made a perfect babel of tongues as they talked, shouted and yelled, making an unj)leasant impression on our untrained ears; but we OF ADDISON COFFIN. 279 were tolerably apt scholars, aiul inacle good progress, even ^lie first day, in our lessons, not in learning lan- guage, but in adjusting oiu'selves to tbe new life. AYe started by rail for Cairo; soon passed tlie marshes and were out into the great valley of the iJ^ile. It was a complete sui*prise; it far surpassed in beauty my highest ideals, rose-colored as some of them were. We were fortunate in the time of our visit. The weather was that of early June in our country; the wheat was in full head, barley just heading, sugar cane ripe and being cut, vegetables in all stages of growth. Hundreds of people were out in the fields at work, with camels and donkeys nearly as abundant as people, all loaded with fresh-cut clover, vegeta])les, sugar cane and other products on their way to market; w^hile on the canal there were many sail and rowboats loaded with the fiiiits of the rich soil, all presenting a charm- ing picture of Egyptian life as it was in the days of Moses. In places we were reminded of some of the most beautiful prairie scenes in the northwest of our country, with the addition of magnificent groves of the stately palm trees. In fact, it is hard to exaggerate w^hen speaking of the Xile vallev when seen under favorable circumstances. Next morning, after our arrival in Cairo, we startet:! earb' for the creat pvi^amid. Nine out of ten Americans care nothing for the city until they stand 280 LIFE AND TRAVELS on the -gTeat pyramid and see the sphinx. We drove along a beautiful avenue on the bank of the l^ile, then crossed the river on a massive iron bridge, along another broad avenue of acacia trees, six miles to the west of the valley. At first sight there is a feeling of disappointment. It looks low and squatty, but as we approached its huge proportions began to come up against the blue sky and our disappointment turned to awe and delight. When we arrived at the base, my friends thought it unsafe for me to attempt the aseent. Miss Havens was earnest, though very kind in her per- suarling. Even the old Arab sheik thought it impru- dent and shook his head dubiously, but they knew nothing of my mountain climbing. We started vnt\\ two Arabs a piece to ''boost. " Miss Havens kept close to me in her anxiety for my safety. As is the custom, Ave halted to rest about every hundred feet. At the first halt Miss Havens asked how I was standing it. At the second stop I inquired after Miss Havens. John Van Lindley was behind at third. I waited for Miss Havens to get well winded, and then started for the top. When we were thirty feet from the summit Miss Havens said softly to her boosters, ''Hurrv^ up, I cannot bear the idea of an old man getting there first, after saying what I did," but my attendants overheard it, and they began to boost with a will, and we were OF ADDISON COFFIN. 281 almost earned up, Miss Havens arriving two steps ahead, but very tired, while I was not even weary. John Van Lindlev was fifty feet behind, but came up all right. My stock went above par among the Arabs. The scene from the top well repaid all the toil of climbing aside from the historical associations. But it has been described by tourists and in school books so often, that a brief outline is all that I shall attempt, though I found afterwards that I saw things which few mention, if they ever see them. The stones and plaster casing of the pyramids and all the old ruins have never been washed by rain, or moistened by dew ; the constant exposure to blazing sunlight for unknown centuries gives them a peculiar look, not seen any- where else, and it is the same with wood, metal and all artificial work; even the people bear marks of heat and light without moisture in the air. This is an interest- ing and distinctive feature of Egypt. Even the vege- tation p-rows to maturity without any rain t-o wash cM the dust of the desert. Looking' westward from the pyramid the im- broken expanse of brown sand looks dreary and deso- late in the extreme. There is nothing in the wide, arid regions of our great plains and deserts that can com- pare with the Sahara in its repulsive desolation. We instinctively turned away with a feeling of fear and dread. As we looked to the south and toward the 282 LIFE AND TRAVELS valley, we belield a wonderful scene. The deep gTeenr of the lowland contrasted with the naked hills on either side, with the towns and villages among th.6 palm groves, with the busy life that disa]:)pears as the distance lenothens out, and above all the wonderful city, Cairo, that lay smiling at our feet, with its gilded towers, domes and minarets gleaming in the unbroken sunlight, fonned a picture that belongs to Egypt and to it alone, for there is more or less rain in all other habitable parts of the earth. The descent was more tiresome than the ascent, and we felt it considerably. We began to relax from the intense excitement, and are more conscious of pain. From the Uv^ of the pyramid we saw a lesser one near by, and southward in the desert a group of small ones, which were interesting objects as seen through the glass. The s])hinx is near the southwest corner, and we looked down upon it in a way that intensified our desire for a nearer view of this wonderful work of a lost race, and to it we hurried on reaching the gTound. To me it had an interest equal to anything ever seen before or since. The sand has been all cleared away, and we now understand the figure ; it is a human head- ed lion, ninety feet long, hdng down with the fore paws extended as in nature. The whole thing has been cut out of a solid rock cliff, it is still a part of the rock formation, and has not been detached. There is a OP ADDISON COFFIN. 283 Space of eight to twelve feet wide excavated all around it four feet lower tluin its l)ody, thus leaving it as if it were lying on a long block of stone. It is impossible to convev a correct idea of the massive figure. Everything is in such proportion, ^he joining of the lion and the human neck is so perfect that we could not determine the point of the union. The whole figure can be better understood by saying that from the tip of the chin to the top of the fore- head is fourteen feet, and this measurement is in har- mony with the size of the forehead, body and limbs. The face has evidently been noble and verv beautiful^ but it is now scarred and mutilated. Some brutal Turkish soldiers fired a four-pound cannon at the head the ball striking the side of the face, but a genius of the fine arts could restore it. Xear by the sphinx an old buried and lost temple has been discovered, and exca- vations promise rich discoveries. A long passage has been opened, which leads to an alabaster chamber so beautifully dazzling that the eye cannot bear the re- flection when a magiiesium light is introduced. At last we turned from these wonders to the cool shade of the acacia trees, and took our lunch and com- pared notes and impressions, and here we fully realized the ability of our ladv companion. She was not only posted in history, but a linguist and antiquarian. As we were preparing to go back to the city, the rank and 284 LIFE AND TRAVELS iile of tourists were coming out to the hotel to rest and discuss the ever-increas- ing wonders that were coming up on every side. We decided that Egvpt had to be seen to be rightly under- OF ADDI80N COFFIN, 285 stood. The next day was spent in goino: through the citj, driving through the clean streets of modern Cairo, thronged by people from every nation under heaven, with a strange mina'ling of extreme western and extreme eastern life. The bicycle rider went fly- ing by, the donkey rider with driver running behind, the fine English coach and four whirled past, the huge freight camel with its great load aud long swinging gait. The western lady, with head erect and open face, crowded the veiled and shrouded eastern beauty in the fashionable bazaars, each pitying the other for lack of taste and for being so benighted and barbarous. So it was at every turn in every department of business; the habit and usages and customs of 4000 vears ago were seen from the electric cars; while the camel driver from Bagdad smoked his pipe from among bales and bundles looking with pitying eyes upon the horrid in- novations, devoutly calling upon Ali and the Prophet to deliver him from the influence of the barbai^ans. In the winter Cairo is. a paradise of beauty and enjoy- ment. In summer it is like a burning oven. With regret w^e left the valley of the Nile and went nearlv due east by rail to Ismalia on the Suez canal, there took steamer for Port Said on the coast. The ride on the canal w^as interesting but devoid of all romance, ^^^len in deep cuts we saw nothing but bare sandy or clay walls, when on the till> or acpieducts "286 LIFE AND TRAVELS across the valley and depressions the dreary burning sand stretches off to the horizon, which made the eyes and head ache like a snow field in the sunlight. Of the two the snow is the more endurable. We stopped, a day and night in Port Said to see the ^'Half VV^av Place" of the world. All ships and steamers going to or from the east, stop there to hear the news, exchange reports, get supplies, send cablegrams, write letters and have a short rest. The port is always full of ships with flags of all nations flvinp- from the flagstaff, while the character and look of the sailors defv description. They range from East Indian pirates, to splendid specimens of English and American manhood. Erom Port Said ^ve went by steamer to Jaffa in Palestine. The sea being quite rough, at Jaffa the steamer lay out a mile from shore. The passengers and bagaa^e were picked up by brawn v Arabs and dropped into boats alongside and caught by the fellows in the boats. It was a new and rather unpleasant sen- sation, this being dropped, but it was all successfully accomplished without a miss. The ride through the dangerous reefs in the rough sea was quite enjoyable, for we had such confidence in our Arab boatmen and their fellows on shore, that had we upset they would have carried us ashore upon their backs. This harbor and the reef thi-ouo-h which we were passing has been associated with human events €ver since the confusion OF ADDISON COFFIN. 287 of tongues, hence a small adventure would have been enjoyable, but we landed safelv and realized at last that we stood upon'tbe Holv Land. Jaffa is one of the oldest cities of the world* Pliny says it was a city l)efore the flood. There is an undoubted record that it was an important city in the time of Sennacherib. It has had an eventful history j^^ been destroyed and rebuilt many times, and has been closely connected with Jewish historv since the time of Joshua. It was the seaport of Solomon, and a por- tion of a massive sea wall built bv him is still standing, though today it is nearlv a hundred yards inland. The crusaders made it one of their strongholds, and many of their walls and towers are still standing. Amon^ the interesting relics is the house of Simon, the tanner, with, a stone tan vat in perfect preservation standing before a group of houses suiTOunding the small open court, showing by their consti'iiction that they were built before our era. In an orange orchard, some dis- tance off, we saw the house in which Peter restored Dorcas to life, now partly under ground. It belongs to the same period as the house of Simon. The city has 25,000 inhabitants, Mohammedans, Jews and Christians, and to the historian, antiquarian and general reader is full of interest. For a mile or more it is surrounded by orange orchards, gardens, vineyards and flowers protected by thick hedges of 288 LIFE AND TRAVELS thorny cacti. There are many hospitals, schools and churches maintained by Europeans, which are doing much good. Eastern life is seen here a* at Alexandria with persistent unchanging customs in contrast with European improvements. The ties on the Jerusalem railroad were delivered on the landing by ships from ISTorway. From the landing to the construction train they were carried on camels, six being a camel's load, and it was a novel sight to see a long line of these strctng animals carrying their unwieldy burdens; everybctdy gave them the right of way as they passed. In the noisy market place we saw for the first time ^Hwo women grinding at the mill," though we did not take one as in the scripture ; we also saw a man grinding alone, 7)erspirinp- as in a harvest field; both mills after the ])attern of those on the oldest monji- ments in Egypt. It wa^ the same with many things on sale. There has been no change for 4000 years, aiid the mechanics and craftsmen worked like automatons with their primitive tools. All seemed as incapable of change a^ the camel to alter his hump, or the China- man his bias eyes. At 4 p. m. we tcKtk a carriage and drove two hours to the toAvn of Ramlah, along a fine pike road, equal to anything in Europe, and crossed the plain of Sharon with all its wonderful memories. Ramlah was one of the crusaders' important depots. A large ruined OF ADDISON COFFIN. 289 ehurt'li, and a well preserved iuassiv(^ stone tower still remain to tell their story. There is a grand view from the old town. AVe slept at a German hotel, found good, clean beds and German food. In tlu^ early mornine: we started for Jerusalem. It would take a book to describe all the historic and interesting places and events on the road, such as the scene of Samson's exploit with the foxes, the valley of Ajalon and Joshua's long day, Latroon aneggarlv beings. In the early morning we left the hotel and start- d for the Dead Sea, two hours' ride across the deserted and desolate valley. As we approached the sea we saw and passed among peculiar-looking sand hills and J 00 e( 292 LIFE AND TRAVELS irregular ridges, showing that the sea had once covered much larger area than now, and those hills were the old shore lines. When we reached the sea, another shadow came over our dreams. All had pictured in childhood a dark, silent body of water, surrounded by black, frowning cliifs and caverns, all gloomy and hor- rible. Instead, we stood on the shore of a sparkling lake, with a white-pebbled bank, the waves gently rippling at our feet, no cliffs near, the mountains sunlit and brown like all others in the country; every thing- different from our ideals. It was true all* was silent; there Avas no noise of insect, reptile or bird, but the stillness was soft and soothing: there was more of rev- erence than of terror. As the custom is, a part of the company went in bathing, and instead of swimming, just floated on the surface on account of the density of the water. My friend, John Van Lindley, went in and could not get under water until he jumped up and went down head flrst, and then only for a moment. A stout English lady made long and persistent efforts to go under, but failed. She floated like a cork and was very much worried at the failure. From the sea we rode four miles to Joshua's ford of the Jordan river, and here was another disappointment. It was just a common muddy-looking river, nothing sacred, holy or wonder- ful in sight. In places the mud of a recent overflow OF ADDISON COFFIN. 293 was not dry. The river was thirty yards wide and twenty feet deep, llowing live to seven miles an hour, and we were four miles from its mouth. The shore is lined with a thick growth of small trees and brush, much like other rivers. Though disappointing to the eye, it was none the less interesting on accoimt of its wonderful history in connection with the human race, the course of empire and the rise and fall of the king- doms. Before we had made half the distance from the sea to the river, all who had bathed began to twist and squirm in their saddles. The salt brine on their backs was almost unbearable. My friend's head especially was feeling exceedinglv unpleasant. When we reached the river thev did not stand on the bank hesi-. tating, but made haste to plunge in and get rid of the salt of the Dead sea. There is no trace of the old ford now. The deposit of thirty centuries has filled the valley many feet deep, and there are no fords for many miles up the river. The recent overflow had left a de- posit about as thick as common writing paper. It was drpng and curling up, and had a slight alkali taste, and was a yellowish brown in color. Upon returning to the hotel tired and hungry, we lay down earlv and had a good night's rest. The next morning we had a rr.ugh ride back to Bethany, where wt took lunch, and rested in the shade of some 19 294 LIFE AND TRAVELS olive trees by the wayside, then visited the house o± Mary and Martha. It belongs to the period of Simon at Jaffa. Sixty miles up a small ravine on the east side of the Mount of Olives are many old tombs cut in the rock, from one of which Lazarus was raised from the dead. We ascended the east side of Olivet, by a very rough, stony path to the t(jp, where are several build- ings, including an old Turkish tower and minaret. From, the top of the tower there is the finest view of sacred and wonderful ])laces in all Palestine. To the east is the Dead sea, to the west the Mediterranean, before and beneath is Jerusalem, which lies at an in- cline, so we saw all its streets, houses, walls and the Mosque of Omar as the central figure. This view was so impressive that my feeling of disappointment measurably left me, and I began to see things in a new light, and the whole scene took on a different coloring. The place where the tower stood was ])robably the spot where Christ stood when he wept over the doomed city with its millions of inhabitants, and while I was gazing in awe at Jerusalem as it is. my mind was filled with this thought, '^What might have been," if Jei-usalem had received the Savior, and I could not refrain from tears when all the past came up in mem- ory. The descent on the west w^as so steep and rough we went down on foot, as far as Gethsemane, where we stopped an hour to examine the sacred spot. It is OF ADDISON COFFIN. 295 now enclosed by a wall and iron grating, so people cannot carry all the earth away, a sad necessity, for thousands of visitors were annually carrying away a handful of the sacred soil. We returned to our hotel with very dilferent feel- ings from those we had on leaving, and the next day walked more than half around the city on the wall; we could look down in the streets without wading through the muck and garbage. We could also see the noted houses, churches and sacred places. From the northeast corner we looked upon Calvary, on the east side we looked into the valley of Jehoshaphat, where Absalom's pillar is cut out of the solid rock, and has remained through all the vicissitudes of time unbroken and well preserved. It is nearly fifty feet high and stands out as a landmark. Lower down we saw the tomb of Jehoshaphat, with a large chamber that opens into secret caves and passages not yet explored. Then we saw the pyramid of Zachariah. This con- sists of a solid block of stone sixteen feet wide and deep, twenty-nine feet high, and hewn out of the solid cliff, with a broad passage all around its base. The face of this block is beautifully ornamented and it is held in great reverence by the Jews, especially by the remnant of the captivity, who still live in the valley of the Euphrates and eastern Arabia. From the corner at the temple grounds, we looked south on the 296 LIFE AND TRAVELS slope of the mount and saw thousands of white stones, marking the ^aves of Jews who have been buried there through many centuries. On the other side the scenes froni the wall were very interesting, but not like the eastern. After view^ing the city from the wall we ven- tured on a general survey. At first the streets seemed intricate and confusing; many of them are steep and have a succession of stone steps, others are vaulted over and covered with houses. The principal ones are pretty well defined and easily followed, but all are very narrow. The Street of David is but sixteen feet wide, with no sidewalk. It starts from the Jaifa gate and goes eastward to the temple grounds, and is lined with shops, stores, gToceries, fancv bazaars, manu- factories of trinkets and tovs, shops where shoes and sandles, in endless variety, are to be found, and a few rooms in which primitive silk weaving is going on. We went to St. Stephen's gate near the north corner on the east side, and started westward, and passed thrcaigh a very interesting part of the city. We went through St. Anne's church. Xear it on the other side Avas a deserted puddle of stagnant water, said to mark the Pool of Bethesda. Then came the Chapel of Scourging and the Street Via Dolorosa, along which a detestable superstition locates the 'fourteen stations of the cross," each of which is OF ADDISON COFFIN. ^97 visited by multitudes of ignorant, deluded people, from which we turned away in disgust and pity. We saw the Convent of the Sisters of Zion, which contains the Ecco Homo Arch, a fragment of the Judgment Hall of Pontius Pilate. From the roof of that building Jerusalem and the temple can be seen to great ad- vantage. It is probably the l)est view in the city. Christian street deseiwes especial notice. It runs from David's street towards Damascus gate, and unites with the one from St. Stephen's. ^N'ear to the Jaffa gate we turned to the right and ascended Mount Zion, passed the tower of Hippicus, when we came to one of the cleaner portions of the city. There are several churches on Mount Zion. The view from the top of the Armenian church is fine. The trip through these streets, and the scenes from the lookouts, had given us quite a correct idea of the lay of the city, so we now explored the corners and outlying portions, and a'ot a clear impression of the character of the inhabitants, and thus received a better understanding of the time coming when the ^'Sanctuary shall be cleansed." We \dsited the Mosque of Omai", or Haram, as the Turks call it. The description I had read prepared me to see a very l)eautiful edifice, but when we en- tered the building illumined by the morning sun, I was amazed and bewildered at the dazzling splendor 298 LIFE AND TRAVELS that met the eye on every side. When I stood by the dome of the rock, the Holy of Holies, where the ark of the covenant once stood, a feeling of solemn awe came over me, and I felt as if the place were holy still. I had see'n the church of St. Peter's in Rome, St. Paul's and Westminster Abbey in London, Notre Dame and the Confessional in Paris, the Cathedral at Strasburg, and many other churches, some of which were more vast and imposing in size, but nothing had ever ap- proached in splendor to what the Mosque of Omar is inside its walls. The Mohammedans have lavished un- told millions in beautifying their sacred shrine. All the artistic skill of western civilization, united with the voluptuous imagination of the east, has been com- bined in producing an object not surpassed by any age, or people. The venerable High Priest and Patriarch was very kind in answering question?, and seemed interested in our country and our rapid na- tional expansion. The two hours spent with him in that wonderful building, on that sacred spot, v^ll not be forgotten, nor can I think of him but as a brother in the hope of immortalitv. The Jews have several synagogues in the city, one more noted than the others, its green dome is a distinctive mark in looking down on the city from the Mount (yf Olives. It holds some very ancient and hadscaiielv inscribed rolls of the Old Testament. The OF ADDISON OOFFIN. 299 Jews are debarred from many privileges and subjected to annoying persecutions from the bigoted eastern Christians, as well as Moslems. They are not permitted to enter the old temple grounds, but there is one part of the old wall of the temple enclosure where they are allo-wed to gather. "A retired place on the outside of the southwest wall of the harem is the only spot where the children of Israel are permitted to congregate, freely to gaze at, to touch, and to weep over the old stones hewn and laid there by their ancestors. The foul, obscure entrance to this place, through a narrow lane, is a fit type of the abject misery of their race here and elsewhere. Here they come in numbers, especi- ally on Fridays. Jews of all .countries and of all de- grees, rich and poor, men and women, some in velvet and rare furs and some in squalid rags, bring with them their Old Testaments, which they place in the crevices between the massiA^e stones, and from them read aloud the story of their former glorious days, con- fessing their sins with tears and loud lamentations; re- citing touching prayers and calling upon ''The Goect it was disap- pointing. It has many marks of beauty, and not many of age. It had nothing startling or sensational, but much that Avas very interesting. I marvel not that it is the oldest city in the world, for there is no better place for one. It is in the midst of a lovely fertile plain, irrigated by two mountain rivers of pure spark- ling water, which never fails, with a healthy, tem- perate climate, and so long as men dwell on earth some will live at Damascus. 312 LIFE AND TRAVELS We drove far out in the valley amoug gi'een wheat and rye fields, through a wilderness of mul- berry and fruit orchards and vineyards, to where Paul was smitten down. On return we drove around the city to see the remains of the old wall; we saw the window through which Paul was let down, near to the Jerusalem gate. AVe walked the whole length of the street called Straight; it varies from a straight line just enough to prevent one from seeing through from either end, ])ut in standing in the middle it lo<>ks perfectly straight. AVe walked many hours through the noisy markets, bazaars, wheat bins, camel and donkey market, and passed through the long street where silk weaving is carried on, and the prim- itive loom is plied by hundreds of sad-faced women. Then we visited the street given to the manufacture of toys and litth^ fancy articles to sell to tourists and strangers. It is proverbial all over the east that you must never offer a Damascus merchant more than one-third his price, or you will be deceived; the native guides will run travelers into the shops to get them smndlcil in trade instead of sho\ving them the city. The day before we an-ived, one of the singular events occurred that comes in Mahomedan coun- tries at irregular periods, and always among the de- scendants of Esau. Suddenly a man among the day OF ADDISON COFFIN. 313 laborers felt himself inspired to sing the songs of praise considered sacred by all Mahomedans. He went to the priest of the principal niosqne, and asked to go to the minaret at midnight to sing; at first the priest donbted his sanitv, for he knew the man had no voice for singing, whereupon the man began singing with such supernatural melody that all men were amazed. Tn answer as to when and how he learned the sacred songs, his reply was: ^^\llah (God) taught me." So he was permitted to sing, and the \vhole city was electrified with the sublime music that came from the lofty minaret for an hour beginning at midnight. The tAvo nights we were there the man sang his sacred songs, and though they were in the Syrian tongue, I had never heard such soft and per- fect melody come from human lips. The contrast between his voice and his fellow-countrymen was greater than that between a wood lark and a cawing crow. It was deeply interesting to me, for it seemed as though God had not wholly cast ofi the children of Esau, and in the day of restitution might call in the seed of Abraham. On the return from Damascus we again suffered from cold; on the Anti-Lebanon range a bleak \vind blew through the pass, and on the main range there had l>eeu eight inches more snow since we passed. Soon after leaving Stora, we met a large detach- 314 LIFE AND TRAVELS ment of Turkish recruits going to Damascus for drill and instruction; thej were wild, rougli-looking fel- lows, and wei-e cold and noisy, for they had just passed the snow line; behind them came 125 pack camels, roaring and bellowing with the cold. It was a novel sight, and required much skill on the part of our driver to avoid collisions with these unwieldy animals and their bulky loads. We also met a long train of freight wagons, each wagon drawn by three horses in tandem style; they were very difficult to pass, for the drivers were burly men and not very accommo- dating in yielding right of way. Xear the summit there were hundreds of wild mountaineers shoveling snow into two-bushel baskets, and carrying them on their heads to the top of large stone houses, into which the snoAv was dumped for summer use. Inside of the houses there was much shouting and yelling amongst those who packed the snow into a solid mass; it was truly a wild, novel scene; part of the time everything ^vas obscured because enveloped with clouds of fine, drifting snow or frozen vapor, and then the snow shovelers would make extra noise amid the whirling clouds. The ascent and passage was slow; as we were quite cold, my friend and I got down and walked and ran a mile or more amid the snow, mist, clouds and mingled flashes of sunlight, a thing I would re- commend every one to do who has the strength, for OF ADDISON COFFIN. 315 it is an experience that is full of life and exciting energy; the occasional glow of sunlight was charm- ing heyond description. It took three hours to pass through the snow l)elt, then we came down into bright sunshine, amid green helds, orchards and gTOves, the lower portion of the range being covered with terraced gardens. A distant view showed many white villages nestled among the trees on the steeps. Soon we got sight of Beyroot, the broad valley, the bay, and the blue sea beyond. It was near sundown when we reached the city, where we enjoyed a w^arm room and an unbroken night's rest in what seemed civilized society, and found our bundles, which we had left at the hotel, all safe. Next morning, March 25th, 1892, we took carriage and were driven over a good pike road, and in three lioui-s reached Friends' Mission at Brumma, on a foothill of Mt. Lebanon, 2,500 feet above the sea. We were kindly greeted by the Friends, and found a quiet hotel and rest. We were introduced to all the managers and officers and many of the membership, and felt as though we were in touch with home life. Six weeks of constant travel in strange lands, among new, interesting and ever- changing scenes, in contact with different people, together with the effort made to see, hear and re- member all, was beginning to draw heavily on my 816 LIFE AND TRAVELS powers of endurance, and rest was needed. AVe were much surprised and pleased A\dtli the situation, sur- roundings and prospects of the mission; everything indicated permanence. The buildings were all solid, well-built, stone structures; the grounds are being improved and beautified; a. quiet, home-like influ- ence pervades the mission, which is working out a change in that village and also those which surround it. A vn.de influence has been gained over the un- trained ignorant mountaineers, and it is marvelous to see what a door the Lord is opening in that land and how He inspired Eli Jones to select that spot to found a mission. From the buildings and from the hilltops near bv, the scener\- is grand and beautiful. All around south, east and north, are lofty, romantic mountains, toned down and hannonized by a soft blue haze; to the west is a wide expanse of the blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea, with the beautiful city of Beyroot and its harbor and shipping. Farther off beyond all, from south to northwest, the central range of Lebanon stood out in bold relief, covered with snow, which gives a sense of silent, majestic grandeur to the wonderful filling in. All around the ^dllage, across the mountain on which it stands, and down the long slopes on every side, were beautiful gi^o^es of young pine, inter- OF ADDISON COFFIN. 817 mingled with tig, mulberrv and olive orchards, vine- yards, wheat fields and gardens, all resting on and made by terraces bnilt u}) by means of stone walls. Across a ravine to the east, we counted eleven vil- lages, and down the western slope five other villages, flll suiTonnded with orchards, gardens and groves. So beautifully blended together are nature and art, that the eye does not gTow weary with seeing, as in ynore historic places. On the Sabbath, 26th, we attended Brumma Monthly Meeting. William Allen, of England, was present, and delivered a good sermon, which was translated into Arabic by one of the members, a teacher in the boys' school. In transacting the bus- iness, there appeared to be as much sound, practical sense used, and as clear discernment manifested, as in the average American meetings, and there w^as real, living faith present. In the evening there was a general collection of the members in the boys' school room, with tea and lunch and a kindly greeting, while AVilliam Allen gave an informal address. After breakfast next morning we walked three miles towards the summit of the central range to another summit, from w^hich we had a wider and grander view of the ever-changing scene, everything, everywhere intensified by the great glittering snow fields in the backaround. Ev a kind invitation we 318 LIFE AND TRAVELS took lunch at 1 p. in. with Miss Ellen Clayton and Miss M. E. Stephens, of England, the efficient man- agers of the medical hospital. Afterward they took ns on a long t(3ur of inspection, and a long ramble up and down the side of the mountain, through vil- lages out of sight from the top. There was a con- stant succession of surprises; at every turn, in and across every ravine, there was something new and almost startling. By hundreds of years of hard labor the whole mountain side had been terraced and cul- tivated; nearly ever)^where grape vines were being trained along the walls. The houses were all of stone, and flat on top, built into the side of the terrace;^ in many cases we could step on top of the houses from the next terrace wall. Children and chickens abounded, the former black-eyed, bright little fel- lows, who in infancy and early childhood are nearly white; the chickens seemed to be a part of the house- hold; eggs are abundant and cheap and universally used by all classes. The greatest wonder of the day was a genuine, primitive bake oven. It was in the shape of a big- jug, with the neck and upper part off. It was cut in solid rock, five feet deep and three in diameter, and was heated by dry grass pulled out of the gar- dens and the twdgs from fiiiit trees and the refuse from priming, ^^len the oven was hot, two women OF ADDISON COFFIN, 319 sat down by it with a tub of dough and wooden trays as big- as a c-onimon dishpan turned bottom u]); the round of the trays just tit the curve of the oven. The women took himps of dough about the size <^i a pint cup, and dexterously spread them into thvn cakes on their trays, about fourteen inches in diam- eter, then leaning over, reached down and dabbed it to the side of the oven; the cake adhered and was baked by the time another was ready. These cakes, which are made from rye, are stacked in piles, and are the bakei-s' bread for Arabs, and nearly all Western Asia and Northern Africa. When the oven cools a few handfuls of dry grass are thrown in, which restores the heat. While watching this, allusion to grass and the oven in scripture came to mind: ^*The grass that to-day is, tomon*ow is cast in the oven." From the oven we ascended by winding paths among gardens and orchards and over walls, and learned more than we would have thought possible when we started, for we saw life as it is, and has been, for 4,000 years, with no sign of change. The spades and mattocks are the same in form as chiseled on the monuments while the Hittites were in the land. Some of the foundations of the teiTaces were built before the time of Hiram. When we returned to the hospital we were tired, but highly pleased with the tour, and the kind ladies would not let us go 320 LIFE AND TRAVELS until we had cake and a cup of tea, and we promised to pay the debt in a similar manner if they should ever come to America. One morning, by invitation of Miss Cadburj, and Miss M. E. Harris, of England, who have charge of the girls' school, we went to the school building at 6:30 a. m. to see the whole routine of morning work, the getting up, washing, sweeping, dusting, making up of the cots, cleaning and refilling the olive oil lamps, and the old fat Syrian man cooking the break- fast on a Syrian stove with one-fourth the wood used in America. When the bell rang we went to break- fast; the girls sat at a long table, thirty-two in num- ber, while the teachers' table sat across the end of theirs. The girls had batter cakes, dried and pre- served fruit, with Avater to sup; the most novel thing was the way the water was drunk. Tt was in small jugs or jars, with a s])out on one side like a tea pot; they took the jug and held the spout about two incbes above the mouth, and poured the water in without touching the lips, and they did not miss their mouths a single time; at first it was hard for us to keep from smiling. When the meal was finished, a por- tion of scripture was read in Arabic, while we fol- lowed the reading in an English Bible. Afterwards I gave the girls a talk on my travels, and at their earnest request, some adventures of the T^ndergroimd OF ADDISON COFFIN. 321 Railroad, of which they had heard from the boys. We next listened to the reading- in English of one of the advanced cdasses; though most of them spoke every word in plain English, there was a peculiar Syrian, yet sweet intonation, that was truly charm- ing. As I walked back to the hotel, I was impressed with the conviction that the Lord does all things well. The Syrians are made to live in Syria, not in England or America; they can be made good Syrians, and nothing else. As well attempt to make Syrians out of Carolinians or Hoosiers* To the northward of the city several miles, and down the mountain from Brummana, is a celebrated place, now becoming world-wide in its importance, the ''Gates of the Kings," where the mountain comes down in an abrupt cliff to the water. Across the outer end of the bridge a pass has been cut and worn, by long use, nearly one hundred feet wide, with tolerably steep grade. TTirough this pass came and went all the conquerors in the olden time, and at one place many of them engraved their images, with an account of the expeditions, victories and conquests. Some have become almost illegible, whilst others are" well preserved. The records go l)ack to early Egyp- tian, Babylonian, Persian, Greek and Roman per- iods; among them is that of Sennacherib. There are two that bear the marks of prehistoric time, not less 322 LIFE AND TRAVELS tlian five thousand years ago, and proljably much older. This ancient pass is not used now; a French com- pany has blasted a wide road in the solid rock, at the foot of the cliff near the water line, which makes a nice drive from the city, but in going we walked down the steep side of the mountain to the pike, and there took a carnage. In making the descent we passed through a Maronite village, seemingly hang- ing to the side of the cliff', and the people were cur- ious to see the two old men who traveled unarmed from the wonderful land of America. Our return drive brought us to a point on the bay due west of the mission, where a French company have a five million dollar contract to build an immense break- water to protect the harbor of Beyroot. The com- pany ran a railroad five miles up a ravine, where the rock formation stands nearly vertical; here great masses are blasted and fall to the floor of the ravine and break to pieces, so the gTeat derrick can swing them into the cars. After a time the engineers discovered a break or crevice on top of the hill, from four to five hun- dred feet above the floor, and conceived the idea of making a blast that would shake the whole country. They ac^^ordingly worked to that end, and gaA-e out word far and wide among the villages that on the OF ADDISON COFFIN. 323 afternoon of a given date the explosion wonld be made. By noon of that day the opposite hill across the ravine was covered with thousands of natives anxious to see the wonderful event. Several thous- and of the spectators were on a level with the mass to he exploded, and from four to six hundred feet away. AVhen the hour came the signal was given by a Ions:, shrill whistle of a locomotive in the valley. In an instant an explosion louder than thunder shook the hills and mountains for miles around, and the whole side of the hill Avas hurled into the air and fell two hundred feet to the floor with a deafening crash that was more fearful and_ heard further than the explosion. It was successful almost be- yond the expectation of the engineers, and second to none ever made, excepting the one at El Paso, Texas. The effect upon the natives cannot be described; they stood still as death, seemingly without breathing, for nearly half an hour; then a tall chief shouted at the top of his voice, waving his turban, ^^Great is Allah!" ^^Great is Allah!" Then the vast multitude seemed moved as if by a whirlwind, and for many hours they shouted like men possessed, waved their hands in wild gesticulations, danced and swayed in the intense ex-