SNOQUALME PASS. 185 
1. By means of a tunnel, 4,000 yards (2.27 miles) in length, from the level of Willailootzas, 
about 3,000 feet above the sound, with an eastern approach of eighteen and a half miles with 
a grade of 48.4 feet per mile, and western descent of forty-five miles at 59.8 feet per mile. 
2. By a tunnel 11,845 yards (6.73 miles) long from the level of Lake Kitchelus, 2,388 feet 
above Vancouver, with an eastern approach of eighteen and a half miles with a grade of 15.2 
feet per mile, and a western descent of forty-five miles at 46.3 feet per mile. 
These estimates suppose a uniform grade for the distance given, and, as is remarked by 
Captain McClellan, the grade will necessarily be broken, and higher than the estimate in many 
places. 
Being without instruments or snow-shoes, and on the coldest days of winter, it was impossible 
for me to carry a profile down to the sound, or to investigate the best mode of passing the mount- 
ain; but I think that the lower tunnel might be shortened some, and I observed that while the 
distance between the summit and Wallah-Wallah is nearly as I made it, the distance between 
the summit and the sound is much less. 
From about the level where the tunnel at the water-level of Lake Kitchelus would debouche 
on the western side, I judged that the natural descent of the valley of the Nook-noo was sixty 
feet per mile, and that it soon became less than this. I think that from this point westward no 
serious difficulty exists, and the balance of the road to Seattle may be made without objectionable 
grades, or work of an unusually expensive character. Although the explorations of this route 
are still very incomplete, my own meagre examinations are sufficiently conclusive to establish the 
practicable character of the country between Seattle and the Snoqualme falls. 
One of the objections to this route, of serious importance, if existing, is, that in winter the Yaki- 
ma valley is much obstructed, and the mountain summit impassable from the depth of the snows. 
The exploration which, by your direction, I made from Wallah-Wallah to Seattle, was princi- 
pally for the decision of this question; and I give in brief its results. 
The trip from Wallah-Wallah to Seattle occupied the greater part of January of last winter, 
and just as I was preparing to leave Wallah-Wallah the weather suddenly changed and became 
severely cold, and the passage of the mountains was made in the coldest days during the winter, 
a winter of greater cold on the Columbia and Puget sound than is usual. 
I found no snow in Yakima valley until, on January 13th, about seventy miles from its mouth, 
the snow was trom two to three inches deep. To this point I found the Indians, in large and 
small camps, scattered along the banks of the river, the two largest camps being forty-eight 
and sixty-six miles distant from its mouth. These Indians had grazing with them large bands 
of horses and some cattle; were in their permanent camps, and evidently, with their experience 
and perfect acquaintance with the winter, had in the fall prepared for the occupation of their 
winter camp, where I found them, without the expectation that the snow would drive them 
thence, or destroy their horses and cattle. 
Ninety miles from the mouth of the river, January 16, the snow was three or four inches deep; 
the grass was good, and the small number of Indians here had a few horses grazing near this 
camp. Thenceforward the snow slowly increased, until, sixty-five miles farther on, on the 21st 
of January, I crossed the summit of the Yakima Pass with a depth of snow of six feet for a few 
miles. Fourteen miles west of the summit the snow was but eight inches deep, mostly the de- 
posit of a snow-storm occurring during my passage of the mountain, and thence rapidly dimin- 
ished, at the Snoqualme Falls being an inch or two deep, and so, protected by the trees, just 
covering the ground, continued nearly to the shores of the sound, where was neither snow nor ice. 
For about six miles on the summit the snow was found to be six feet deep, with an occa- 
sional depth of seven, as also of four feet. Eighteen inches to two feet of this fell on the night 
preceding the day on which I crossed the divide. The whole was light and dry like a mass of 
feathers, and the snow-shoes sunk through the fall of the preceding night, burying themselves 
nearly two feet, and making the travelling very laborious. ‘The weather, while making the pass- 
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