Two Years in Oregon

poisonous larkspur-? Market-gardening-?The Cardwell Hill-?The hill-top-?The water-shed-?Mary River-?Crain's-?The Yaquina Valley-?Brush, grass, and fern-?The young Englis

Argyll's on Canadian homes, to the effect that what was wanted was such a description of roadside,

I little thought it would ever fall to my lot to try to br

ay, from our town to Yaquina

e light mist tracing out the course of the great river for miles into the soft distance, and the C

sses from one pace to another by a mere pressure of the leg against his sides, and the gentlest movement of the reins. To turn him, be it ever so short, carry the bridle-hand toward the side you want to go, but put away all notion of pulling one rein or the other. He will walk unconcernedly through the deepest mud or the quickest flowing brook, and climb a steep hill with hardly quickened breath; if he meets a big log in the trail,

the foot, and wide enough for the foot to slip easily in and out. A horse-hair belt, six inches wide, with an iron ring at each end, through which runs a buckskin strap to attach it to the saddle, and by which it is drawn tight, forms a "sinch," the substitute for girths. The word "sinc

so well for the hours-long rides he will have. I have only heard one Englishman out of fifty say that he prefers t

baggage becomes truly "impedimenta" when you have to carry it on your horse. You need not carry blankets now, for there are good stopping-houses

t showing crimson tips. As we canter by, a meadow-lark gives us a stave of half-finished song from the top of the fence, and flits off to pitch some fifty yards away, in the young green wheat, and try again at his song. The bird is nearly as large as an English thrush, with speckled breast, and a bright-yellow patch under the tail. Just in front of us

s enjoying himself in the dust, and only just has time to glide hastily away as the horse-hoofs threaten his life. Their harmlessness and use in waging wa

t and thickness. The orchard-trees close to the farmhouse we are approaching stand clothed from head to foot in flower; the pe

the little ones leaping high and throwing themselv

you to look at these bees-I have got six swarms already." And under the garden-fence stands a long, low-boarded roof, and under it a whole row of boxes and barrels, of all ages and sizes, with

a brown center, all hanging as if too heavy for the stalk, have not yet matured. The cattle are very fond of this plant, and do well on it. An enemy of theirs is the lupin, here called the larkspur, one of the earliest of spring plants. Its handsome, dark-blue flowers do not redeem it, for the cattle are deceived by it, eat, and are seized with staggers, and will sink down and die if not seen

gate. Alas! by the gate, and to be crossed before we reach it, is the Slough of Despond-a big, deep, uncompromising pool of black, sticky mud. The horses eye it do

tle to be seen but some rows of early peas and spring cabbage. Later on, the long beds of onions, French beans, cauliflowers, and all the rest, with the melons, squashes, or vegetable marrows, pumpkins, cucumbers, and tomatoes (which were the glory of the gardener), show

flower and yellow eye hiding modestly under the leaves. The catkins on the hazel-bushes dangle from each little bough. The purple iris grows thickly in the frequent mossy spots, and the scarlet columbine peers over the heads of the bunches of white flowers we knew

y shaded by the wood for the sun to dry the mud, and our horses painfully plod upwa

r the summit. Halting for a moment to let the horses regain their breath, we turn and see the whole broad valley lying bright in sunshine far below. So clear is the air that the firs on the Cascades, forty mil

e across. This hill is bare of trees, and is covered now with bright, young, green grass, soon to be dried and shriveled into a dusty brown by the summer sun. We wind round the heads

h white crown of snow above the dark fir timber; and away to the right, among lower, wooded hills, we

ds, with the Mary River on the left closed from our sight by the screen of firs that follow it all the way along; then by a bridge and by other farms, and between fir-woods

enough for us to enjoy the cool breeze among the young firs behind the house, as we stand to wash hands and face by the bench on the side of the dairy built over

er-shed, and look down far into the Yaquina Valley, lying deep between rugged and broken

all green firs clothes the crest we have passed, and t

ver Yaquina comes down from a wild, rough valley to the right, to be crossed by a wooden bridge close to a farmhouse on rising ground. Two of our recently arrived Englishmen have bought this place, and are well satisfied with their position. About eight hundred acres of their own land, of which quite three hundred are cultivable in grain, though not nearly all now in crop, and really unlimited free range on the hills all round for stock; some valley-land which produces everything

overcome. They look contented enough, as they stand by their house-door to bid us good-day as we ride by. The

imble-berry bushes, and border the road. Syringa and deutzia plants and two varieties of elder, which bear black and red berries, but are now bright with abundant flowers, clothe the steep bank overhanging the river, which here widens out into calm pools, divided by ripples, and runs over rocks. An

ers, deeming spade-and-shovel work beneath them. Next winter's rain lodges and stands in the dint made by the trunk when it fell, and in the depression left by the men who rolled the middle of the log away. Never filled up, or any channel cut to run the water off, a "chuck-hole" is formed, which each wagon enlarges as it is driven round the edge to escape the center. Woe betide the stranger who does not altogether avoid, or boldly "straddle," the "chuck-hole" with his wheels! The side of the wagon whose fore and hind wheels have sunk into the hole dips rapidly down, and he is fortunate who escapes without an upset, and with only showers of liquid mud covering horses, driver, and load, as the team struggles to drag the wagon through. But, pressing through the gorge, we emerge into a more open stretch. On the right of us rises a smooth, round hill, fern-covered to the top; and on

onstruction of fish-passes through the mill-dams; but it was too useful and simple a mea

ering back, as if walking were an unknown art practiced for the first time. The river has grown from the burn we first crossed to a tidal watercourse, with a channel fifteen feet in depth, and, having left its youthful vivacity behind, flows gravely on, bearing now a timber-raft, then a wi

and waxy-white flowers of the sallal frequently pushing through. We have got used by this time to the black, burned trunks, and somehow they seem appropriate to the

he morning fog, which has retreated fro

ouse. The bare slopes and steep sea-face tell of its basaltic formation, which gives perpendicul

ast-line is invisible from the height on which we stand, but the

a mile at sea, a protecting line of reef, with its whole course and its north and south ends

e little town of Newport, its twenty or thirty white houses and boat-freq

ined with white, betraying the reef below-soon, we trust, to be got rid of in part by t

ay, Newpo

l, gray sand borders the harbor, and there stan

pe down to Ford's Point, jutting out into deep water, which flo

along the hard sand bordering the bay under the broken cliffs, and are soon shaking hands with the cheery landlord