All Over Oregon and Washington/Chapter 18
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE UMPQUA VALLEY.
It was a clear, sharp, October morning, when we left Eugene to go down into Southern Oregon. As the stage rattled out of town in the direction of the Umpqua, we took a last, lingering look at the fair, level valley we were leaving. The encircling hills of russet-color, dotted with bits of green, in groups of oaks or pines; of Spenser's Butte, with its sharp, dark-tinted cone; and of the blue Cascades, now purpling under the morning sunrise. From the most distant mountains, light-gray mists were rising; in the middle distance, was a purple interval; on the nearer hills, rich, yellow sunlight. The orb of day was not yet high enough to shine on the hither side of the peaks behind which he was mounting. They stood in their own shadow, and let his slant beams bridge the valleys between their royal heights, until they rested on the humbler foot-hills among which we were wending our way, and touched with a golden radiance the yellow leaves of the maples, or silvered the ripples in the Wallamet water.
Such gorgeousness of color never shone, out of the tropics, as the vine-maple, ash, and white-maple display, along the streams in this part of Oregon. We had thought them bright, glowing, radiant, on the Columbia and Lower Wallamet; but nowhere had we found them so brilliant as at the head of the Wallamet Valley. And, as we afterward ascertained, this is nearly the southern limit of the beautiful vine-maple. It was almost in vain that we looked for its scarlet-flaming thickets fifty miles farther south; and at a hundred miles it had disappeared from the landscape altogether.
The Umpqua Valley is divided from the Wallamet by a transverse range of mountains—spurs either of the Cascade or Coast Range, or both intermingled—called the Calapooyas. The road leads through the gorge of a creek, where the thick woods, in places, quite exclude the sun—almost the light of day. Bright as the weather was, and dry as the autumn had been, there was a shadow, coolness, and moisture here, among the thick-standing, giant trees, the underwood, and the ferns and mosses. A very pleasant ride on such a morning, but one which might be exceedingly uncomfortable in the rainy season, though never an uninteresting one.
The Umpqua Valley, which we had first seen in its June freshness, was now sere with the long drought of summer, followed by a rainless autumn. Still, it looked beautiful—one so soon learns to admire the soft coloring of these dry countries—the pale, russet hues of the valleys; the neutral tints in rocks and fences; the quiet, dark-green of the forests; and the clear, pale, unclouded blue of the heavens. The expression of these landscapes is that of soft repose. Nature herself seems resting, and it is no reproach to man that he, too, forgets to work, and only dreams. But the men of this period are not dreamers. Even in the sacredest haunts of Nature, they plot business, and talk railroad! We certainly thought railroad, as our eyes wandered over this beautiful, but isolated valley, and our imagination became busy with the future.
This valley, or Douglas County, covers an area of 4,950 square miles. Unlike the Wallamet, it has no great extent of level prairie-land bordering on the river from which it derives its name, but is a rolling country, a perfect jumble of small valleys and ridges; the valleys prairies, and the hills wooded with fir on top, but generally bare, or dotted with oak, on their long, sloping ridges. It is a sort of country where a man may seem to have a little world all to himself; owning mountains, hills, plains, and streams, or at least a stream; and not either overlooked by, or at any great distance from, a neighbor.
Extending from the Cascade Mountains to the Pacific Ocean, east and west, and bounded on the north and south by transverse ranges, it embraces all the country drained by the Umpqua River; and is in size and resources fit to constitute a State by itself. Its more southern latitude, greater elevation, and climate, with a mingling of sea-breezes and mountain air, gives it many advantages, making it salubrious and productive. Its prairies are adapted to wheat and all cereals; its creek-bottoms to Indian corn, melons, and vegetables; its foot-hills to every variety of fruit; and its uplands to grazing.
The same general variety of timber grows here as in the Wallamet Valley; and a few kinds in addition. The evergreen myrtle is a fine cabinet-wood not known to Northern Oregon; the wild plum and wild grape also are native to this county; and the splendid Rhododendron Maximum, with its immense flowers, of a deep rose color. A great variety of wild flowers adorn the grassy slopes in summer. Strawberries of several native species are abundant, and delicious. Game abounds in the mountains; fish in the streams. In this month of October we saw on the apple and pear-trees a new set of blossoms—some of the fruit having grown as large as a gooseberry.
Douglas County has under cultivation only twenty-five thousand acres, with a population of six thousand. From this average it will be seen that grazing is more followed than grain-growing. The reasons are obvious for the preponderance of stock-raisers: the difficulty of getting so heavy a product as grain to market, over mountain roads; and the greater profit of wool, which can be exported; or of beef-cattle and hogs, which can be driven to the mines, in adjacent counties, or California.
Douglas County has a sea-port of its own—Scottsburg—situated at the head of navigation, on the Umpqua River, about thirty miles from the sea. Umpqua Bay is a small, but safe harbor, into which vessels and steamers of light draught can come with ease. It was once projected to build up a city at the mouth of the river, and a company for that purpose was formed in 1849; but the project was finally abandoned as being premature. Scottsburg is at present the main entrepot for the commerce of this valley—from which port goods are wagoned fifty miles to Roseburg. Late surveys of the river between Scottsburg and Roseburg have resulted in an attempt to improve its navigation between these two places, so that boats can come up to Roseburg about six months in the year.
The resources of the Umpqua Valley, besides its agriculture and stock-raising, are gold-mining and lumbering. Really, its mineral wealth is very little known. Coal beds are found on the north fork of the Umpqua. Limestone, brown sandstone, salt-springs, besides sulphur and soda- springs, are known to exist; but these things are left untouched until a more numerous population calls for their appropriation and use. Salmon-fishing is carried on to some extent near the mouth of the river; and also fishing for oysters along the coast. The coast country is an excellent one for fruit-raising and butter-making; for the former on account of the absence of frost, for the latter on account of excellent and ever-fresh grasses, cold spring-water, and even temperature.
Traveling through the valley by the stage-road from the north, Oakland is the first town of much importance we come to. It is beautifully situated on a branch of the Umpqua River, among a grove of the trees from which it takes its name. Among its public buildings is the Oakland Academy, used both for school purposes and for the holding of religious services by the Methodists; and a Masonic Hall. Ten miles south of Oakland is another academy—at Wilbur—also under the patronage of the Methodist Church.
Roseburg, the county-seat, is a pretty little town of five hundred inhabitants, charmingly located in one of the oak parks bordering the Umpqua River. It has an academy, four churches, a Masonic and Odd Fellows' Hall, and public schools; and all the usual trades and manufactures of an inland town. Too much can not be said of the landscape beauty of this part of the county. It is easy to foresee that when these valleys are made accessible they will be populated rapidly; as well from their attractiveness as from the excellence of soil and climate. A United States Land Office is located at Roseburg. Farming land can be purchased at from three to fifteen dollars an acre.
We have already referred to wool-growing as one of the leading interests of Douglas County. In the year 1869 this county exported 430,000 pounds; and the amount is annually increasing. The same year it contained 11,000 head of cattle and 160,000 sheep. The amount of bacon exported is not known, though it is considerable. The oak glades of Umpqua furnish great quantities of food for hogs, at no expense—the acorns seldom failing to be a good crop.
Water-power, of unlimited extent, can be had—the finest being near Winchester, on the Middle Fork of the Umpqua. The site has been offered as a gift to any Company who would erect manufactories at this place. It is an excellent situation for a woolen-mill, being about in the centre of the county.
The road from Roseburg, toward the south, gives us views of very great beauty and grandeur. Every variety of surface is presented, including prairie; gentle slopes, picturesquely wooded; mountain ridges; wild canyons; and every form of noble or pleasing landscape. The Myrtle Creek Hills remind us of Harper's Ferry. We are awed and delighted with the Umpqua Canyon, fully as wonderful as the more celebrated Echo Canyon. The valley of Cow Creek fascinates us, with its wild and solitary beauty, and the extraordinary richness of the autumn tints with which the mountain sides are resplendent.
The scenery does not fail for one moment to interest the traveler during the long ride which takes him from the Umpqua into the Rogue River Valley, over a range of mountains of that name. Traces of old mining operations begin to appear along this route. The earth is broken and scarred; old, deserted cabins stare blankly at us from the roadside; abandoned rockers and pans, testify to the hope and the despair, or the success, of former gold-miners. Passing through a country where the soil is a reddish clay, clothed with groves of oak, manzanita, laurel, and pine, we come at last to the Rogue River, the most beautiful of mountain-born streams. Quite near the river, on the stage-road, the traveler finds a neat hotel, with garden attached, looking so home-like, in conjunction with its beautiful surroundings, that the temptation to stop over for a day, and enjoy the peace and pleasantness of the place, is almost irresistible—to us, quite so.