CITY OF THE GREAT SALT LAKE. 129 



rugged mountains, stretching far to the southward, and enclosing 

 "within their embrace the lovely little Lake of Utah. 



On the northern confines of the city, a warm spring issues from 

 the base of the mountain, the water of which has been conducted 

 by pipes into a commodious bathing-house ; while, at the western 

 point of the same spur, about three miles distant, another spring 

 flows in a bold stream from beneath a perpendicular rock, with a 

 temperature too high to admit the insertion of the hand, (128° 

 Fahr.) At the base of the hill it forms a little lake, which in the 

 autumn and winter is covered with large flocks of waterfowl, at- 

 tracted by the genial temperature of the water. 



Beyond the Jordan, on the west, the dry and otherwise barren 

 plains support a hardy grass, (called bunch-grass,) which is pecu- 

 liar to these regions, requiring but little moisture, very nutritious, 

 and in sufficient quantities to afi'ord excellent pasturage to nume- 

 rous herds of cattle. To the northward, in the low grounds border- 

 ing the river, hay in abundance can be procured, although it is 

 rather coarse and of an inferior quality. 



The facilities for beautifying this admirable site are manifold. 

 The irrigating canals, which flow before every door, furnish abun- 

 dance of water for the nourishment of shade-trees, and the open 

 space between each building, and the pavement before it, when 

 planted with shrubbery and adorned with flowers, will make this 

 one of the most lovely spots between the Mississippi and the Pa- 

 cific. One of the most unpleasant characteristics of the whole 

 country, after leaving the Blue River, is the entire absence of trees 

 from the landscape. The weary traveller plods along, exposed to 

 the full blaze of one eternal sunshine, day after day, and week after 

 week, his eye resting upon naught but interminable plains, bald 

 and naked hills, or bold and rugged mountains : the shady grove, 

 the babbling brook, the dense and solemn forest, are things un- 

 known here ; and should he by chance light upon some solitary 

 cotton-wood, or pitch his tent amid some stunted willows, the op- 

 portunity is hailed with joy, as one of unusual good fortune. The 

 studding, therefore, of this beautiful city with noble trees, will 

 render it, by contrast with the surrounding regions, a second " Dia- 

 mond of the Desert," in whose welcome shade, like the solitary 

 Sir Kenneth and the princely Ilderim, the pilgrim, wayworn and 

 faint, may repose his jaded limbs and dream of the purling brooks 

 and waving woodlands he has left a thousand miles behind him. 



The city was estimated to contain about eight thousand inhabit- 



9 



