His Descriptions Of The Scenery - Mounts Baker, Rainier, St. Helen's,
Etc.
- Were as enthusiastic as those of the most eager landscape lover
of the present day, when scenery is in fashion.
He says in one place:
"To describe the beauties of this region will, on some future
occasion, be a very grateful task for the pen of a skillful
panegyrist. The serenity of the climate, the immeasurable pleasing
landscapes, and the abundant fertility that unassisted nature puts
forth, require only to be enriched by the industry of man with
villages, mansions, cottages, and other buildings, to render it the
most lovely country that can be imagined. The labor of the inhabitants
would be amply rewarded in the bounties which nature seems ready to
bestow on cultivation." "A picture so pleasing could not fail to call
to our remembrance certain delightful and beloved situations in old
England." So warm, indeed, were the praises he sung that his
statements were received in England with a good deal of hesitation.
But they were amply corroborated by Wilkes and others who followed
many years later. "Nothing," says Wilkes, "can exceed the beauty of
these waters and their safety. Not a shoal exists in the Straits of
Juan de Fuca, Admiralty Inlet, Puget Sound or Hood's Canal, that can
in any way interrupt their navigation by a 74-gun ship. I venture
nothing in saying there is no country in the world that possesses
waters like these." And again, quoting from the United States Coast
Survey, "For depth of water, boldness of approaches, freedom from
hidden dangers, and the immeasurable sea of gigantic timber coming
down to the very shores, these waters are unsurpassed,
unapproachable."
The Sound region has a fine, fresh, clean climate, well washed both
winter and summer with copious rains and swept with winds and clouds
that come from the mountains and the sea. Every hidden nook in the
depths of the woods is searched and refreshed, leaving no stagnant
air; beaver meadows and lake basin and low and willowy bogs, all are
kept wholesome and sweet the year round. Cloud and sunshine alternate
in bracing, cheering succession, and health and abundance follow the
storms. The outer sea margin is sublimely dashed and drenched with
ocean brine, the spicy scud sweeping at times far inland over the
bending woods, the giant trees waving and chanting in hearty accord as
if surely enjoying it all.
Heavy, long-continued rains occur in the winter months. Then every
leaf, bathed and brightened, rejoices. Filtering drops and currents
through all the shaggy undergrowth of the woods go with tribute to the
small streams, and these again to the larger. The rivers swell, but
there are no devastating floods; for the thick felt of roots and
mosses holds the abounding waters in check, stored in a thousand
thousand fountains. Neither are there any violent hurricanes here, At
least, I never have heard of any, nor have I come upon their tracks.
Most of the streams are clear and cool always, for their waters are
filtered through deep beds of mosses, and flow beneath shadows all the
way to the sea.
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