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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: always; font-weight: bold;">On the
Umpqua.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">(Written for the Rural Press by Mrs. F.
F. Victor.)
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">To go, or not to go, that was the
question, as I stood on the platform at Drain’s (Oregon), trying to
settle in my mind whether the Coos Bay country needed me as an
explorer, or whether I should be the better or the wiser for anything
I might discover at Coos Bay. How the question was decided will
appear by these notes; and I must leave out a whole volume of more or
less agreeable personal adventures to make room for that which the
reading public are more interested in.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">The road from
Drain’s to Scottsburg is the only one traveled at present by wagons
across the mountains to that portion of the coast country embracing
the mouth of the Umpqua, Coos Bay, twenty miles south of the Umpqua,
and the Coquille river, a little further to the south. A road from
the bay to Roseburg has been in use, but has become unsafe ; also,
another to Oakland, but that also has been abandoned by wagon travel
in favor of the Scottsburg and Drain route. It is 36 miles between
these two points. The road has cost considerable money, but should
have more than as much again ex</span><span lang="en-US">pended upon
it to make it comfortable, or even safe, especially in the winter
season. But, aside from the roughness of the road and the rather
primitive accommodations, there is a romantic and interesting country
lying in among these coast mountains, well worth the trouble of a
visit to see.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">The road lies along
Elk creek, a pretty stream, which it follows to its junction with the
Umpqua, and thence down this more important river to navigable water.
Many schemes have been proposed for opening communication between the
coast country and the interior valleys, among them the improvement
of the Umpqua river. Several years ago the Government expended
$10,000 in such an undertaking, and a small steamboat was built,
which made one trip to Roseburg, after which the navigation of the
river above Scottsburg was abandoned. Now the talk is of a railroad,
an enterprise which, if carried through, will develop a large extent
of mineral and lumbering country lying at present in a Rip Van Winkle
slumber.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">So very slight is
the communication between the Coos country and the rest of Oregon
that the inhabitants have no hesitation in saying that they belong to
Oregon only politically— that otherwise they are a “province of
California.” Let us see, now, what country this is that turns
itself into a foreign province for want of the usual feeling of
relationship to its own geographical family. Passing over the
incidents of a romantic ride of 36 miles, among small cultivated
valleys, over mountains in all their primeval grandeur, and again
through a somewhat cultivated country on the west slope of the Coast
range, we come to Scottsburg.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">This little burg is
named after Capt. Levi Scott, of pioneer memory, who settled here in
1850. For a period of about 11 years it was a thriving business
place, being the rendezvous of packers who carried the supplies of
all southern Oregon and northern California, then actively engaged in
mining, over the mountains on mules. Thousands of mules were kept
here for this service, the goods being brought by vessels from San
Francisco into the Umpqua river, and hence taken to the interior. At
that period there was an upper and a lower Scottsburg, about two
miles apart. The steamship Columbia, well known at Portland, was at
one time under contract to run into the Umpqua twice a month, on her
way up the coast, to deliver the mails. Upon this promise, a
newspaper was started at Scottsburg, by Mr. D. J. Lyons, the present
proprietor of the “Scottsburg House,” which was to publish the
earliest news to the mining districts before mentioned. But Capt.
Dall failed to fulfill his contract, and without news the paper was
of no value, therefore it was removed by a new publisher to
Jacksonville, and Scottsburg has never since aspired to publish a
newspaper. At the time referred to there were ten or a dozen stores
in the upper and lower towns, and a considerable export of timber for
vessels, masts, piles, ships knees, etc. But the gold mines soon
worked out, a good many vessels were lost on the bar at the mouth of
the Umpqua, steamers would not come in, and to complete the history
of disappointed hopes, the great flood of ‘61-’62 carried away
the whole of the lower town and a large portion of the upper,
comprising most of the business houses. Such was the force of the
water that it not only carried away buildings, but tore away the
ground they had stood upon, and great trees, rocks and earth fell
into the roaring flood with frightful noise and tumult. The
Scottsburg of to-day is a sleepy little street of half a mile in
length, with two small stores, and other business in proportion.
But it is a pretty and picturesque place, with a fine climate, and is
more suggestive of a Swiss hamlet </span><span lang="en-US">than a
thriving center of trade, which it once aspired to be.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">There is a good deal
of historical interest about this section of the Umpqua valley. The
Hudson Bay Company had a fort or trading post where Elk creek falls
into the Umpqua; and Allen, McKinley and McTavish, gentlemen of that
company, as well as the venerable pioneer, Hon. Jesse Applegate,
after the Oregon Territorial Government was established, went into
business in Scottsburg.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">From Scottsburg, a
little steamer runs three times a week to Gardiner, 20 miles further
down the river. Gardiner is a lumbering town, doing considerable
business in good seasons. Its two mills cut, together, about 75,000
feet of lumber per diem. Vessels of 800 tons and downwards </span><span lang="en-US">can
come to Gardiner to load. The situation to the place is cheerful, and
there are several very handsome residences, showing both means and
taste in their plan. Three stores and two hotels supply the present
demand for food and raiment. One feature of the country about
Gardiner struck me particularly-the hillsides are thickly overgrown
with red and white digitalis. As I had never before seen the plant
growing wild, I inquired into its history here, and was told that it
came from seed first planted by Mrs. A. C. Gibbs, who was the pioneer
lady of Gardiner. The same plant appears at Scottsburg, but not in
such quantity, and also at Marshfield on Coos bay. Gardiner was
founded in 1851 by a San Francisco company, of which Gov. Gibbs was a
member.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">There is no better
means, at present, of pursuing your journey beyond Gardiner than by a
small boat. Into a small boat you go, then, and are rowed over the
rather choppy sea of the Lower Umpqua to the beach at Winchester bay,
where a wagon is waiting to carry travelers down the beach to Coos
Bay. From Gardiner to old Fort Umpqua is but a distance of three or
four miles. This fort was built about 1855, to keep in check
straggling Indians from the Reservation above, and prevent their
joining the hostiles in the Rogue River country. Three companies were
stationed there, under Lieuts. Lorain, Peper and Harding. It was
abandoned on the breaking out of the war of the Rebellion, in which
Lieut. Harding became a General. I neglected to mention in the proper
place another historical point lying just above Gardiner. This is
Bolon’s island, formerly called Smith’s island, and famous for
being the place where Jedediah Smith, of the firm of Smith, Sublette
& Jackson, American fur traders, was attacked by the Umpqua
Indians in the fall of I828, his furs captured and his party killed,
excepting himself and two others, who made good their escape. The
incident is fully related in “The River of the West.” Considering
the inhospitable nature of the country where this event occurred, it
appears truly wonderful that these men should have been able to save
their lives and reach Fort Vancouver.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">At Winchester bay is
what they call in this country, “a farm;” though how such a place
resembles an ordinary farm I could not dis</span><span lang="en-US">cover.
There must be grass for stock, and a garden patch no doubt. More than
that did not seem probable, as the heavily wooded bluffs come down
quite close to the beach, and the shifting sand-hills that seem
always to be moving further inland. In truth the high mountains
nearest the sea are, many of them of sand, though now covered with a
growth of scrubby pines and other evergreen trees. My boatman landed
me at a point of rocks on the beach, about two miles inside the bar,
which could be seen breaking, though the day was unusually quiet.
This latter circumstance was very favorable to comfort, as the wind
makes a beach ride anything but pleasant when it comes strong from
nor’west or sou’west. After waiting three quarters of an hour on
the wet sands, the tide being at ebb, my impatience was relieved by
the arrival of the beach-wagon, a two-seated vehicle with wheels
tired with four-inch broad iron bands, that bowled along smoothly on
the firm beach with hardly a jar. In fact the worst feature of this
beach ride is its monotony—the sea just the same on one side and
the sand hills just the same on the other, for the whole distance,
and not the chance of a sensation, if the day be still. I am told,
however, in the winter, when the wind comes heavy from the southwest,
there is considerable excitement in being chased by the surf, with a
strong probability, sometimes, of being overwhelmed in it. The last
mile of the drive takes one over sand ridges and through marshes to a
station on Coos Bay opposite to Empire City, and about three miles
distant, to which place a small steamer conveys you, supposing you
do not prefer to go to</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">Marsh hold, as I
did. But Coos Bay, this “province of California,” must have a
chapter to itself, and I will close this one by noticing something in
the botany and natural history of the country that struck me as
interesting.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">To begin with the
natural history: I had my attention called to a species of lizard
that has the head of a snake, and the same movement in locomotion,
but had also small legs like a lizard, which it did not seem to use
in crawling. The marks upon its skin were like those on a snake, and
its length was about one foot and a half. This creature is called by
the people where it inhabits, the “jointed snake,” because, they
say, it falls into pieces if you strike it, and comes together again!
The one I saw lost quite a long piece of its tail when it was struck,
and </span><span lang="en-US">was partly separated in another place,
but did not come together, as it was soon put into alcohol. Another
curious reptile of the Umpqua valley is the snake with a head at each
end. As I did not see one I could not be satisfied that there were
really two heads, but from the testimony, I was satisfied there was
at least the appearance of two heads. This snake is said to move
either way with equal speed, showing that wherever its locomotive
power is situated, it is reversible, and that, practically, it is a
“double-ender.”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">Of the botany of the
country, what made a most agreeable impression, was the abundance of
elegant shrubs, such as the myrtle, which is in fact a tree,
Rhododendron maximus, and a delicate lavender-colored spirea, which
goes by the name of “California lilac,” though not in any respect
like that shrub. The myrtle grows in a cone-shaped mass, the dark,
glossy foliage being so dense that the trunk and branches are </span><span lang="en-US">quite
concealed. It has, in spring, small blossoms rising on stems from the
bases of the terminal leaves, in the autumn a small green berry is in
place of the flower. The odor of the leaves is very pungent. The
Rhododendron grows six or eight feet high, and presents a profusion
of lovely rose-colored flowers, which, as they often grow alongside
of the beautiful lavender spirea, are thereby set off most
exquisitely. I did not observe any great variety of annuals or
humbler wild flowers of any kind. Neither was there anything of
interest along the sea beach, neither shells, nor birds, nor even
seaweeds. Rather a lonely, voiceless shore, both of river and ocean,
but the woods made up in grandeur and beauty for the want of color
and life on the coast.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-style: italic;"><font size="3"><br></font>
</p>
<h2 style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal;" class="western"><font size="3"><span lang="en-US">Pacific
Rural Press, Volume 18, Number 19, 8 November 1879 </span></font></h2><span><a target="_blank" href="http://cdnc.ucr.edu/newsucr/cgi-bin/newsucr?a=d&cl=search&d=PRP18791115.2.5.2&srpos=145&e=-------en-logical-20--141-byDA---marshfield-all">http://cdnc.ucr.edu/newsucr/cgi-bin/newsucr?a=d&cl=search&d=PRP18791115.2.5.2&srpos=145&e=-------en-logical-20--141-byDA---marshfield-all</a></span><br><br>
<div> </div><span style="color: black;"><div>Robyn<br><a rel="nofollow" target="_blank" href="http://rgreenlund61@yahoo.com">rgreenlund61@yahoo.com</a><br><br><font color="#bf005f" face="bookman old style, new york, times, serif" size="2">Interested in Oregon History? Check out my webpages at<br><a rel="nofollow" target="_blank" href="http://coquillevalley.org">coquillevalley.org</a> or <a rel="nofollow" target="_blank" href="http://genealogytrails.com/ore/coos">genealogytrails.com</a> (Coos & Curry Counties)</font><div style="padding: 5px 0pt; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13.3px;"><span style="color: gray;"></span><a rel="nofollow" target="_blank" href="http://www.linkedin.com/in/rgreenlund" style="padding: 0pt 2px; color: blue; font-size: 10pt;"><img src="http://www.images.wisestamp.com/linkedin.png" alt="Linkedin" style="vertical-align: middle; padding-bottom: 5px;" border="0" height="16" width="16"></a><a rel="nofollow"
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