Beyond is the illimitable waste of waters. A
more lovely and picturesque landscape I never beheld. On the summit of
the mountain, and surrounding us, there is a growth of hawthorn,
manzinita (in bloom), and other small shrubbery. The rock is soft
sandstone and conglomerate, immense masses of which, piled one upon
another, form a wall along the western brow of the mountain, through
which there is a single pass or gateway about eight or ten feet in
width. The descent on the western side is precipitous, and appears
almost impassable. Distance 4 miles.
_December 25_.--Christmas-day, and a memorable one to me. Owing to the
difficulty in hauling the cannon up the steep acclivities of the
mountain, the main body of the battalion did not come up with us until
twelve o'clock, and before we commenced the descent of the mountain a
furious storm commenced, raging with a violence rarely surpassed. The
rain fell in torrents, and the wind blew almost with the force of a
tornado. This fierce strife of the elements continued without abatement
the entire afternoon, and until two o'clock at night. Driving our
horses before us, we were compelled to slide down the steep and
slippery rocks, or wade through deep gullies and ravines filled with
mud and foaming torrents of water, that rushed downwards with such
force as to carry along the loose rocks and tear up the trees and
shrubbery by the roots.
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