BOTANY OF THE ROUTE. 
39 
with perpetual verdure, and supporting on almost every foot of surface trees of astonishing 
magnitude. At every bend constantly varying scenes of the wildest beauty burst upon the 
view, while the calm silence is often unbroken, save by the screaming of the panther or the 
shrill cry of the eagle soaring far overhead. 
The universal and gloomy forest soon becomes monotonous, and it is a relief to see the canoe 
gliding silently along, the log-cabin of the pioneer on the shores, or to hear the shrill whistle 
of the steamboat echoing from bank to bank, and starting the savage inhabitants of the woods. 
Though few signs of inhabitants may be seen, there are usually a few yards back of the line 
of the poplars that edge the river large and fertile prairies, and farms well stocked with the 
products of the soil. 
On the smaller rivers a striking variety in scenery is observed, as in a few miles we pass 
from the sandy sea-beach through luxuriant meadows, upland prairies, and forests with all 
their different vegetation, until reaching the end of navigation we find a mountain torrent, 
walled in by precipitous sides, and falling in successive cascades for hundreds of feet. All 
this is seen within ten miles of the ocean, on the “ Copalux river,” as well as on some running 
into Puget Sound. 
Entering by the Straits of Fuca the scenery is quite different but no less interesting. 
The calm blue waters of the sounds lie placid as a lake in the basin formed by their steep 
shores with an ever varying outline of points and bays, and dotted with islands of every form 
and size. Prairies are often visible to the water’s edge, interspersed with evergreen forests, 
and extending as an elevated plateau to the base of the rugged and snowy mountains that rise 
like walls on the east and west. 
With all this magnificence there is not wanting scenery of a milder and more home-like 
aspect. The smooth prairies, dotted with groves of oaks, which in the distance look like 
orchards, seem so much like old farms that it is hard to resist the illusion that we are in a 
land cultivated for hundreds of years, and adorned by the highest art, though the luxuriant 
and brilliant vegetation far excels any natural growth in the east. Nothing seems wanting 
but the presence of civilized man, though it must be acknowledged that he oftener mars than 
improves the lovely face of nature. 
The sea-beach, too, has peculiar attractions for one accustomed to live in its vicinity. Its 
broad hard sand forms an excellent road, smooth and solid as the floor, on which are often to be 
found objects of interest and value, free gifts from the domains of Neptune. The constant 
roar of the surf forms a pleasant relief to the silence of the surrounding forests, and in solemn 
tones unceasingly it speaks of that Power who created all these things, “whose path is in the 
great waters, and whose footsteps are not known.” 
