From the Far West.
OGDEN, UTAH, May 25th 1872.
DEAK TIMES.-We, seven of us, have progressed thus far in getting into camp. Stevenson arrived at Omaha last Monday, and Wednesday, seven of us started ahead to Ogden, to do what we could in our pre-parations; Stevenson remained in Omaha, expecting the next day to come to Cheyenne where he hopes to got most of the outfit, and bring it to Ogden by mail. I came on in advance to see about my astronomical affairs, and to determine the height of Fort Hall above Ogden,
The run to Cheyenne is the same which we made three years ago; the ride up the beautiful valley of the Platte, a broad meadow, in some places twenty miles wide, green and flat as a billiard table. Then the plains roll on roll, in endless monotony We saw, here and there, a few Indians, two or three antelopes, and that was all; no buffalos, no prairie-dogs even. After pass-ing Cheyenne, we rode rapidly, and soon reached Sherman, the highest point on the road, 8200 feet above the sea. Here were snow-banks in abundance, then down again, through snow-sheds, reminding one of last winter's enjoyments Soon after passing Sherman, what is on our old at-lases called by name of the Great American Desert, begins, not a barren waste of sand, as our youthful imaginations pictured it, but worse if possible, a waste of clay cov-ered with sage brush, no grass, no nothing: the water a decoction of alkali, the ground baked hard and cracked by the sun, ditto. For three hundred miles the road runs through this stuff. Then it strikes the Green river and follows it up some distance; the country becomes hilly but still there is the old friend, sa ge brush, then it passes through a tunnel seven hundred feet long and emerges on the Webber river. Here the scene changes, and all the way down Echo Canon it is past description. Im-agine a deep, narrow canon bounded on the south side by steep smoothly sloping hills; on the north by precipices a thousand feet high, sometimes overhanging along and un-der wh ch you pass. The rocks are cut and chiseled by nature into all sorts of fanci ful shapes, and some still more fanciful travellers have given them names, as the Pulpit, Cathedral, Finger Rock, etc. But they are magnificent; I never saw any-thing to compare with them.
Running along under them, we look up to see them frowning high over our head, and then back upon the long vista of cliffs, one beyond another-it is a sight to be re-membered as long as one lives. For twen-ty miles we enjoyed this view, and yet we were not satisfied. Then follows quickly, Webber canon, by which the road passes through the Wahsatch range to the Salt Lake Valley; this is a deep ravine between high snow-capped mountains, which slope steeply down to the river at their foot. Here is the "Devils Slide," a double ridge of limestone running down a steep mountain side, and projecting some twenty feet from the hill; the two sides are ten o twelve feet apart, and a thousand feet long (The Devil seems to be a favorite hereabouts.) The Devil's Gate is the last object of interest before entering the Salt Lake Valley. (I wonder if he who named it intended any disrespect to Brigham.) Here the Webber river, in a series of cata-racts, sweeps around a sharp, high point of rock, having on the outside, a sheer preci-pice of immense height. The road passes through a tunnel in the promontory. Then we rush out into the beautiful Salt Lake valley, full of green slopes, flowers and pretty Mormon villages; while behind us the snow-capped mountains look down, shining in the afternoon sun. In another hour the train stopped at Ogden, and we said good-bye to the friends we had made in our little home, the Pullman Sacramen-to. Of these friends, were an old Bostonian and his wife, with whom I could glorify Boston to nay hearts content.
Now you wish to hear "what I know" about a Mormon town. Ogden is as pret-ty as can be, and he who located it had an eye to the beautiful. It is just at the foot of the highest part of the Wahsatch range; great snowy mountains rise upon the east, making sunrise quite late. On the west and south, a plain stretches for miles, bounded by far off, dim mountain ranges.
Brigham Young has been here yesterday and to-day; hence they have been festive days. All the country around has been to hear him preach; the church has been crowded, so there was no room for Gentiles; consequently I have not heard him, but have seen him two or three times. I have a letter of introduction to him for business matters, and shall probably see him at Salt Lake to morrow, as I shall take a run down there.
Yours,
M. E.
