210 EAST PRUSSIA TO THE GOLDEN GATE 



get steeper and steeper, and our progress became cor- 

 respondingly slower; the higher up we went the softer 

 became the snow, and we often broke into it to above our 

 knees. Our oxen had a hard time of it, and we were some 

 distance yet from the top of the mountain, when a snow- 

 drift 15 feet high and more than 100 yards wide made 

 it impossible for us to advance any further with the team. 

 We were forced to unload right here, and while our team- 

 ster returned with the oxen to Grass Valley, the rest of 

 us shouldered our blankets and baggage, and continued 

 on our road alone. We soon found that it was not an easy 

 road to travel; the snow was loose, and the weight on our 

 shoulders caused us to sink into it to our middle. 



After reaching the summit we came into rolling hills, 

 gradually rising higher and higher. The air was thin 

 and sharp and everyone of us soon complained about pain 

 in the side, chest or head; at the same time the snow 

 began to get softer and softer, and every now and then 

 some one of us would sink into it up to the arm pits, so 

 that the others had to drag him out again. In this way 

 we made about 3 miles, when at 11 o'clock we reached 

 an entirely bald plateau, exposed to a high wind, sharp 

 and cold as icicles. Here, however, we made good time. 

 The wind which probably blows here strongly all the year 

 round, had swept the hard ground perfectly clean of 

 snow, while at other places it had blown it together in 

 banks as high as a house. In most cases we walked 

 around these and since the plateau was perfectly level 

 we would certainly have made the last three miles to 

 ''Onion Valley" in half the time that we actually re- 

 quired if the tempestuous weather and snowdrifts 25 

 feet high on this the 8th of June— and the thin, cutting 

 air — had not seriously told on our lungs. As it was we 

 had to make a halt every few hundred yards to recover 

 our breath. It was 2 o'clock when we reached "Onion 

 Valley," a broad ravine about 300 feet deep, covered with 

 snow everywhere; a few stunted firs were the only signs 

 of vegetation I could discover. Yet there is on this des- 

 olate spot a small town of ten or twelve stores and tav- 



