OUT WHERE THE WEST BEGINS 



What! You don't know this country — never saw that mar- 

 velous view from pine-clad Cabbage Hill in spring, that won- 

 derview on the new highway of the Old Oregon Trail ? 



Spread over the lap of the Umatilla Valley, nestling on the 

 gently undulating bosom of its hills, lie the cultivated lands. 

 Over the valley floor is a marvelous, magic color-carpet of Na- 

 ture. Into this design, she has woven the yellow, pink, brown 

 and old rose rectangles of stubble fields and summer fallow, 

 alternated it with the emerald and distant turquoise of luxuriant, 

 verdant fields of spring sowing, and dark-accented it with rich 

 maroons and distant purples of the near-summer plowing. Into 

 it she has dabbed some odd plays of shadow which dash it with 

 lapis-lazuli, levantine, and violet and finally, has stitched through 

 its center, the careless-rambling, silver thread of the river. 

 Nature through her mist-charged atmosphere holds before you 

 crystal globes of amethyst, opal, tourmaline and bids you gaze 

 into this Valley of Rainbows. 



Week by week one may see this restful Eden of Colors meta- 

 morphose through summer to fall. Again Nature holds before 

 your gaze a transparent crystal now of iridescent gold, waves 

 her wand of time over the magic carpet and bids you behold the 

 products of one of earth's richest granaries. 



Journey now by aeroplane over this huge, earthen bowl called 

 the county of Umatilla of nearly two million acres in extent, and 

 drained by the numerous streams from the Blue Mountains. 

 Over mountain slope and upland valley we skim the tree-tops of 

 forests of standing timber, fly over irrigated lands of vege- 

 tables and fruits and the fourth crop of alfalfa purpling in the 

 sun ; speed over grazing lands dotted with a million sheep and a 

 half million head of other livestock; glide over the vast areas 

 which are sown with softly, undulating seas of grain products, 

 producing five million bushels of wheat alone. 



Swing over Hermiston, Stanfield, Umatilla, Milton, Athena and 

 Pendleton, the county seat, which here and there checkerboard 

 the landscape, their modern mills, factories and industries taking 

 care of the predominating agrarian pursuits. Hover now over 

 the Round-Up City, Pendleton, the trade emporium of eastern 

 Oregon. It lies like a clean-cut gem in a band of green, sur- 

 rounded with a setting of gold. But for the whir of the motor 

 you might hear the drone of its industry, for here the manu- 

 facturing of eastern Oregon centers. Main Street defines the 

 center of this biggest little city of its size in the West; the 

 great oval and the little cones of white to the left and almost 

 beneath us define the Round-Up Park and the lodges of the 

 Umatillas. Here we alight, for tomorrow the great carnival of 

 the cowboy and Indian is on. This is indeed "Out Where the 

 West Begins." 



