They little thought, when we were in the
mountains of California and Oregon--nor did I myself then dream--that
but a few years were to elapse before it would be my lot again to
command dragoons, this time in numbers so vast as of themselves to
compose almost an army.
Shortly after the arrival of Captain Russell a portion of the Indians
at the Grande Ronde reservation were taken down the coast to the
Siletz reservation, and I was transferred temporarily to Fort
Haskins, on the latter reserve, and assigned to the duty of
completing it and building a blockhouse for the police control of the
Indians placed there.
While directing this work, I undertook to make a road across the
coast mountains from King's Valley to the Siletz, to shorten the haul
between the two points by a route I had explored. I knew there were
many obstacles in the way, but the gain would be great if we could
overcome them, so I set to work with the enthusiasm of a young
path-finder. The point at which the road was to cross the range was
rough and precipitous, but the principal difficulty in making it would
be from heavy timber on the mountains that had been burned over years
and years before, until nothing was left but limbless trunks of dead
trees--firs and pines--that had fallen from time to time until the
ground was matted with huge logs from five to eight feet in diameter.
These could not be chopped with axes nor sawed by any ordinary means,
therefore we had to burn them into suitable lengths, and drag the
sections to either side of the roadway with from four to six yoke of
oxen.
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