HUMBOLDT RIVER 



beg of the passengers. Some were dressed in rabbit- 

 skin coats, or cloaks, which looked thick and warm, 

 but exceedingly dirty. One very pretty and chubby 

 half-breed Indian girl 

 came aboard, and sold 

 us fresh-boiled eggs and 

 milk. 



The Central Pacific 

 Road follows Humboldt 

 River almost from its 

 source to where it 

 sinks in the desert 

 sand. It gives one a 

 strange, weird feeling 

 to watch its dark waters 

 as they flow on, becom- 

 ing less and less, until 

 they entirely disappear, 



and nothing but its dusty bed gives one an idea that a 

 river ever ran there. As we passed what is known on 

 the maps as the Humboldt Lake, it was seen to be a 

 dry expanse of fine, light-colored sand, and clouds of 

 dust rose constantly from its surface. Next we came 

 to the Truckee River. It is a rough and raging moun- 

 tain torrent, and is the outlet to that clear and lovely 

 sheet of water, Lake Tahoe. It empties into Pyramid 

 Lake, which is salt and impure. The train stopped a 

 short time at Reno, from which a branch railroad runs 



INDIAN WOMAN AND CHILD. 



