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Elisha
Perkins, 1849:
Here we see our last of the famous
Humboldt & I must agree with the majority of the
Emigrants in nicknaming it "Humbug River." The
stream itself does not deserve the name of river being
only a good sized creek.... For the first two day's
travel in its valley the grass is splendid, then the
valley begins to narrow & feed to get poorer &
less of it all the rest of its course, till for the last
80 miles except in special spots we could hardly get
enough for our mules to eat, & water barely
drinkable from saline & sulphurous impregnation
& having a milky color. I think Baron Humboldt would
feel but little honored by his name being affixed to a
stream of so little pretension.... |
By the time the emigrants reached the Humboldt
Sink, most were happy to bid the hated river goodbye, despite
the fact that they knew they now faced a long haul across the
desert and then the final climb over the Sierra Nevada.
Wm. G.
Johnston, 1849:
Sunday, July 15. -- A march of five
hours brought us to the vicinity of the Sink of Humboldt
River, at about nine o'clock: and continuing over a well
beaten sandy trail until noon, we encamped on the edge
of the Great Desert. Of late the region through which we
journey had been growing more and more desolate; but
here was reached what might be aptly termed "the
valley of the shadow of death," and over its
portals might be inscribed: "Who enters here,
leaves hope behind." |
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E. S. Ingalls,
August 5, 1850:
Reached the Sink last night about sunset. This
is a basin about 80 rods wide and half a mile long. It is
usually the last water found on the Humboldt, or where it
loses itself in the sand, hence its name, but this year the
water is so high that it runs down several mules further
before it entirely sinks. There is no grass here whatever,
nothing but desert. We broke up our wagon to-day and made pack
saddles, being convinced of the impossibility of getting our
wagon acros the desert, since the loss of the horse yesterday
and injury to the others.
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Wakeman
Bryarly, 1849:
Twelve miles upon the old road brought
us to the Sink, the desideratum of long hoped
for weeks. "How far to the Sink?" has been a
question often asked & often answered,
& often heard in the last month. |
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