The ox team : or, The old Oregon trail, 1852-1906 . side(east) of the Rocky mountains. THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 143 T CHAPTER XVII. The Ox Team Monument ExpeditionContinued. THE DEVILS GATE. HE Devils Gate (see illustration, page 144)and independence liock a few miles dis-tant are probably the two best known landmarkson the Trail,—the one for its grotesque and strik-ing scenic effect. Here, as at Split Rock, themountain seems as if it had been split apart, leav-ing an opening a few rods wide and nearly fivehundred feet high, through which the Sweetwaterriver pours as a veritable torrent. The river
The ox team : or, The old Oregon trail, 1852-1906 . side(east) of the Rocky mountains. THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 143 T CHAPTER XVII. The Ox Team Monument ExpeditionContinued. THE DEVILS GATE. HE Devils Gate (see illustration, page 144)and independence liock a few miles dis-tant are probably the two best known landmarkson the Trail,—the one for its grotesque and strik-ing scenic effect. Here, as at Split Rock, themountain seems as if it had been split apart, leav-ing an opening a few rods wide and nearly fivehundred feet high, through which the Sweetwaterriver pours as a veritable torrent. The river firstapproaches to within a few hundred feet of thegap, and then suddenly curves away from it, andafter winding through the valley for half a mileor so, a quarter of a mile distant, it takes astraight shoot and makes the plunge through thecanyon. Those who have had the impression theydrove their teams through this gap are simplymistaken, for its a feat no mortal man has doneor can do, no more than they could drive up thefalls of the Niagara. 10. DEVIL S GATE THB OLD OREGON TBAIL 145 This year, on my 1906 trip I did clamberthrough on the left bank, over boulders head high,under shelving rocks where the sparrows nestswere in full possession, and ate some ripe wildgooseberries from the bushes growing on the bor-der of the river, and plucked some beautiful wildroses, this on the 2d day of July, 1906. Iwonder why those wild roses grow there wherenobody will see them? Why these sparrowsnests? Why did this river go through this gorgeinstead of breaking the barrier a little to thesouth where the easy road runs? These ques-tions run through my mind, and why I know gap throughthe mountains looked familiaras I spied it from the distance, but the road-bedto the right I had forgotten. I longed to see thisplace, for here, somewhere under the sands, liesall that was mortal of a brother, Clark Meeker,drowned in the Sweetwater in 1854 while at-tempting to cross the Plains; would
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