STATE AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY. 363 



a short distance, when you meet with a second perpendicular precipice 

 running parallel with the one above it, and of about half its altitude. At 

 the foot of this second cliff, spreading out with a comparatively level sur- 

 face, lies a beautiful and fertile valley, adorned and beautified with clusters 

 of evergreens, in the center of which is a picturesque and lovely tarn, within 

 whose clear and transparent waters, at all hours of the day can be seen 

 mirrored, in all their strange magnificence, the surrounding cliffs that hem 

 it in. A feeling of awe takes possession of the soul as you gaze upward at 

 these vast overhanging walls. It seems as though nature had reared this 

 silent retreat where man should never intrude. The scene, as viewed from 

 the summit, is one of the most sublime and beautiful which the mind can 

 picture. 



Spread out before you like a map, are all those wild and romantic scenes 

 peculiar to Alpine regions, which so charm the eye and enwrap the soul of 

 man. Craggy heights, towering upward from amid deep, dark forests of 

 evergreens, that hang like shadows around their bases and sides — lonely 

 and unfrequented lakes hemmed in by beetling walls of rocks — nameless 

 and untrodden valleys, where the deer, bear, and elk still roam in all their 

 native freedom — and wild and foaming streams, winding downward from 

 their native tarns, now plunging over steep and rocky cliffs, forming lofty 

 cascades, whose voices awaken the echoes far and near, and again winding 

 in solemn murmurs through the deep recesses of the mountains, all come 

 within a single sweep of the vision. 



Marble Mountain rises the colossal figure of the whole scene, with its 

 snow-white domes towering upward to the very clouds, like guardian senti- 

 nels over the surrounding country. Long after the shadows of twilight have 

 gathered in the deep ravines and dark canons below, the sunlight still lin- 

 gers amid its elevated spires, as though posing to take a parting glance ere 

 its departure on its journey through space. 



Near the northern border of the mountain, there is a tremendous chasm 

 of about 500 feet in depth, and 1,000 feet in width, known by the Indian 

 name of u Ish-ne-quah-ish." It appears to have been formed by the rush of 

 mighty waters that have long ages since subsided, and reaches entirely 

 through the solid wall of rock, thus dividing the mountain as it were in 

 twain. The Ottitiewa, or Scott Valley Indians, have a strange and curious 

 legend among their traditional history, concerning the naming of this rug- 

 ged defile. According to this legend, there lived long years ago, among 

 that tribe, an Indian by the name of Wahahshun, or Strong Arm, as the 

 name is interpreted by them. He received his name from the immense 

 power he displayed in the use of his bow. From early boyhood he sur- 

 passed all his playmates in this respect, and when he had arrived at the 

 age of manhood, no one was found, far or near, who could successfully 

 cope with him either in the chase or in shooting at a mark. 



At all their festive gatherings, he bore off the palm, until at last he stood 

 the acknowledged champion without a competitor. Nor was he lacking in 

 any of those essential traits of character which go to make up a renowned 

 warrior. He possessed a brave and daring spirit that shrank from no dan- 

 ger. Armed with his trusty bow, he feared nothing which might roam the 

 forest. On more than one occasion, he attacked single-handed and alone, 

 the savage grizzly, and laid him dead at his feet with an arrow through 

 his heart. 



It was in the fall of the year, and the Ottitiewas had followed the game 

 from the parched and dried up foothills of the lower valley into the fresh 

 green pastures among these wild highlands. Their village was pitched at 

 the eastern base of Marble Mountain. One day, Wahahshun, with two 



