14 
BOTANY OF THE ROUTE. 
a^ autumn are so crowded into the space of three to five short months that even the subalpine 
region may be said to have but two seasons—first, that of vegetation, and secondly, winter, 
continuing for the rest of the year, while the ground is covered with snow. Though the days 
were very warm during our stay there, ice formed at night one-third of an inch thick at our 
camp : and we had a violent and cold hailstorm, which for a short time buried the flowers, thus 
in an hour changing summer into winter. 
The precise limits of the seasons cannot be definitely fixed, and probably vary much in 
different years and on the different exposures of the mountains. About the 12th of the 
following October snow fell in the Nachess Pass during Lieutenant Hodge’s journey across it, 
its elevation being nearly the same, 4,890 feet above the sea. Snow is known to fall at this 
height in every month between September and May, but it does not lie constantly for so long 
a time, and vegetation probably goes on during both those months, and even for a month or 
two longer. But the local differences are very great and must amount to a month or more, 
according to the exposures of surface to sun and rain even at the same elevation. There is no 
dry season at this height, as clouds are almost constantly hovering about the peaks, and rain can 
be seen even from the valleys below, falling at all seasons, especially on the more westward parts 
of the range. 
I found animals more abundant in this cool elevated region than below. The large herbivo¬ 
rous quadrupeds had sought the fresh spring-like herbage, and were probably followed by 
many beasts of prey. Ducks, geese, and cranes abounded, with the interesting little phalarope, 
seeking these cool regions to raise their young; but in our hasty journey across I could merely 
glance at the multitude of new beings which surrounded me. 
The moist hollows between the mountains were densely covered with rank grass, promising 
rich pasturage for the herds which, when the country becomes more settled, will doubtless be 
driven there during the summer, when the plains eastward are parched by drought. In healthi¬ 
ness and beauty of scenery these mountains cannot be excelled. 
On the 11th of August we commenced to descend the eastern slopes of the Cascade range 
near the base of Mount Adams, and at once found ourselves in quite a different natural region 
from any before seen. Although forests continue as on the western slopes, they are composed 
of entirely distinct species of trees, and have a very different appearance. Instead of spruces, 
one pine almost exclusively prevails, (P. pondeeosa, called “Yellow Pine,”) growing usually 
over a hundred feet high, with a straight clear trunk three to five feet thick, branching at the 
height of about forty feet. Its bark is thick, reddish, and deeply furrowed, like that of the 
chestnut. The wood is said to be unusually heavy and useful for many purposes, besides being 
excellent fuel. A few of the smaller “White Pine” and stunted larches are mixed with this 
on the higher parts of the slope, and descending below, about the elevation of 3,500 feet, the 
oak began to reappear. 
There is so little underbrush in these forests that a wagon may be drawn through them without 
difficulty, forming a striking contrast to the dense thickets of the western slopes, to be here¬ 
after described. The level terraces, covered everywhere with good grass and shaded by fine 
symmetrical trees of great size, through whose open light foliage the sun’s rays penetrate with 
agreeable mildness, give to these forests the appearance of an immense ornamental park. 
Almost the only shrub is a Ceanotlms , (C. velutinus, Dougl.,) with beautiful shining foliage 
and a strong aromatic odor something like cinnamon, growing in scattered thickets. 
This beautiful forest continued for about twelve miles eastward from Mount Adams. It 
