362 TRANSACTIONS OF THE 



The whole wide landscape appears to have been formed by some mighty 

 convulsion of the earth that has thrown up numerous spurs or broken 

 ranges of mountains to the height of from 7,000 to 9,000 feet, and piled 

 them together in strange confusion. During the winter and early spring 

 months, they are covered by an immense fall of snow, that renders them 

 a dreary and desolate waste, uninhabitable to man or beast. But it rapidly 

 disappears under the bright, warm rays of the summer sun, and by the 

 middle of July is almost entirely gone, and valley glade and glen are 

 robed in a mantle of verdure, in which are mingled the choicest of wild 

 flowers. Here and there in the more elevated spots, the snow lingers in 

 great banks throughout the season, but they only serve as refrigerators to 

 lessen the otherwise oppressive heat of the summer time. 



There is a mountain standing in the midst of this Alpine region, that 

 presents one of the strangest and most interesting phenomenon found in 

 nature's architecture. It is familiar to most of the older inhabitants of the 

 neighboring valleys, under the double appellation of Marble or White 

 Mountain. 



The former of these is the more classical name, given it by the white man, 

 while the latter is the simple term by which it has from time immemorial 

 been designated by the Indians. As is common with everything strange or 

 wonderful in nature, they look upon it with superstitious awe and venera- 

 tion, associating many wild and romantic legends with its history. When 

 viewed from a distance, it has all the appearance of a barren and craggy 

 height, whose summits have lately been covered with snow; but upon near 

 approach, it proves to be the natural color of the rock which composes it, 

 for it consists of an immense upheaval of limestone rock, which under the 

 influence of heat and pressure has been partially metamorphosed into mar- 

 ble, of which nearly every description can be found, from the coarser, 

 rougher qualities, to that of monumental purity. Winter and summer, it 

 presents the same cold and gloomy-like grandeur that readily distinguishes 

 it from all of its surroundings. Indeed, from its peculiar appearance in 

 this respect, it long served as a kind of landmark or guide to the earlier 

 pioneers who first ventured into these mountain fastnesses. 



The old Kelsey trail, which is one of the first trails ever blazed out across 

 these mountains into Scott Valley, lies almost directly at its base, and. few 

 who ever passed that way, but checked his mule to gaze upward with 

 wonder and amazement at its beetling cliffs and towering domes. But this 

 route, at best, was a rugged and dangerous one to both man and beast, and 

 as much more accessible passes were soon discovered through the mount- 

 ains, it was long ago abandoned, since which time it has been visited only 

 by the hunter in quest of game, or some occasional adventurer seeking the 

 sublimities of nature as portrayed in these vast solitudes. The mountain 

 rises in the form of a crescent, with its concave side facing the setting sun, 

 and has an altitude of fully 8,000 feet above the level of the sea. It is easy 

 of access from the eastern and southern sides, sloping up gradually, terrace 

 after terrace, to its very summit. Along the gradual acclivities, the melt- 

 ing snows of centuries have cut deep and dark crevices and caverns in the 

 soft limestone rock, into some of which, if a stone be dropped, the faint, 

 hollow rumbling, far beneath your feet, tells to what unknown depth they 

 have been worn. 



But upon reaching the top, the whole scene changes, for, instead of a 

 gradual descent, the traveler finds himself standing upon the brow of a 

 perpendicular escarpment, varying in altitude from 500 to 1,000 feet, and 

 extending entirely round the mountain, a distance of more than three 

 miles. From the foot of this cliff, there is a steep and rocky declivity for 



