The Valley Sixty Miles From a Railroad

Those who have seen Bierstadt's painting, 'A Thunder Storm in the Rocky Mountains,' pronounce it one of the most attractive productions of art. If Bierstadt could have witnessed the scene in the Cascade mountains on the afternoon of June 30, 1892, I doubt not he would produce a painting that would rival his famous Rocky Mountain scene. It was then that Hon. L. A. Davis and his company were wending their way along the Tilton river en route to his home in that part of the upper Cowlitz valley known as the Big Bottom. He was returning home from the Minneapolis convention, fresh from the eloquence of Bessett, McKinley and Depew. The scene now before him presented a strange contrast to that pictured in the convention hall at Minneapolis. Now he was not listening to the thunder of the great oracles of Republicanism, but to the music of the clouds that were pouring out their contents with the sublime accompaniment of thunder and lightning. Nor was he now gazing at the finished architecture of man, but at the giant mountain walls that overhang the Tilton river with a picturesque grandeur that belongs only to the Cascade mountains. The scenery along the Tilton river reminds one of the Ute Pass at the foot of Pike's Peak. I believe, however, that the Tilton river scenery is more varied and attractive than that of the famous pass. Amid such surroundings and in drenching rain we reached a comfortable lodging place in the vicinity of Davis lake. Here we found warm hospitality, and we were in splendid humor for it. Wet and tired, we extended a hearty welcome to the cheerful fire and wholesome supper that were prepared for us. The place where we spent the night is a good sample of the ranches scattered through the valleys of this region. For several miles the route is over a trail, and this is the only approach to the homes that are planted in this mountain seclusion. Yet contentment reigns even in these remote places, and comfort begins to reward the industry and patience of the inhabitants. Strawberries fit for a royal palace were spread before us, and the weary pack horses luxuriated in the rich timothy pasture. The nights in the Davis lake valley will long be remembered, not only for kindly treatment by the host and hostess but for a curious specimen of the cat kind never before seen or heard of. This is a cat that loves tobacco, and eats it with as much relish as though it were milk. It is very common to see a man at one end of a plug of tobacco and this cat at the other, each gnawing with a full measure of earthly bliss. Here also we met William Packwood, the famous hunter and trapper, who has probably spent as many days in the open air as any man in the state. He declares that civilization is a costly luxury, and hence he prefers the more simple and less costly existence of outdoor life. He has a promising coal mine a few miles west of the summit of the Cascades. It is still raining, but we must be going. The four pack horses are loaded, and the riding horses, bearing their human freight, wind over the mountain trail all day under the weeping clouds. The day's journey convinces me of the difficulty attending the life of the people in these mountain wilds. Everything except vegetables that can be raised must be brought in on pack horses, and the new homesteader who has his garden ground yet to clear must pack in every morsel of food, and that frequently on his own back. Truly these sturdy woodsmen deserve the good time coming, when railroads and wagon roads will make transportation of the necessaries of life easier and cheaper. But here we are, on the afternoon of July 1, at Mr. Davis' home — himself, son, daughter and the writer. A good fire, even on the 1st of July, is a wholesome comfort to one who has been riding all day through the rain. So said our company unanimously, and the tired horses said amen to the warm barn shelter. Sitting in Mr. Davis' genial home, though more than sixty miles from railroad, we are happy. Surely we ought to be, if home comforts and inspiring mountain scenery can bring happiness. Judging from surroundings, it could hardly be supposed that Mr. Davis' place is new. A good house, good barn and outbuildings, a large meadow, a thrifty young orchard and many other proofs of substantial farm improvements speak of the industry of Mr. Davis and his family since settling here little more than five years ago. The timber in all the buildings is shaped for use by hand, for sawed lumber is not to be had. The Cowlitz valley at this place has a most pliable and fertile soil. It is very easy to cultivate, and can be plowed immediately after a long, hard rain. Any kind of crop that can be grown anywhere in Western Washington can be raised here with great success. The desirability of the region is well shown in the fact that every acre of the valley, below and above Mr. Davis', is claimed by a settler. Remote and hard to reach, this inconvenience has not deterred a large settlement being made, and the inhabitants seem well contented with their lot in all respects, except their isolation from market and social advantages. The Big Bottom people have organized a school district within the past year, and the first school term was taught this summer. The Fourth of July witnessed their first celebration, and its success demonstrated their live remembrance of our nation's birthday. One hundred and sixty people assembled to do honor to Independence day, and the stars and stripes never waved in a more romantic region. The Cowlitz gurgled its sweet murmurs, and river, mountain and forest all joined in 'My Country, 'Tis of Thee.' In a beautiful maple grove by the river bank the speaker's stand was erected and appropriately decorated. After a good oration, the crowd gathered around a table spread with a most sumptuous and inviting dinner. There was enough for white man, Indian, and plenty to spare. After dinner, on a beautiful stretch of prairie a horse race, foot race and game of ball made the afternoon sports and an enjoyable dance at night closed the first Fourth of July celebration ever in Big Bottom. In such a promising section of Lewis county lives L. A. Davis with his family. He has seen much of pioneer life, having crossed the plains in 1851 with his father, Lewis H. Davis. They each took donation claims near Claquato, the old county seat of Lewis county. Lewis H. Davis died in 1874. The son, L. A., lived at Claquato until about six years ago, when he settled in the Big Bottom region. Mr. Davis has seen something of political life and at different times has held public offices in this county. The late Henry Miles, who was a member of the first territorial legislature, was Mr. Davis' political rival.