were destroyed (W. M. C.). Warner also had imbibed the California idea of Oregon. He once remarked to Case, "I understand that Oregon can never be an agricultural section." "Why?" asked Case. "The valleys are too narrow. I am told that there are few over a thousand yards wide— that gives no room for ranches." "The Willamette Valley" said Case, "where I live is forty miles across, not counting the foothills. That gives room for ranches."
Emerging finally out of the Pitt River Valley and entering upon the great plateau east of Shasta Butte, Case's little party traveled so near the snow of the mountain region, and it was now late September, that the snowbanks seemed no higher above them than the tops of the trees. They were coming to the Modoc country, and the lava beds. These last were a great curiosity; the natural forts made by boiling and finally subsiding little craters of not over an acre in area, and looking so much like fortifications that many took them for the work of Indians, especially attracted attention. Here began the forced marches. For three nights and four days Case slept not a wink, and the distance covered during that time was about three hundred miles. Skirting the marshy shores of Lost Lake, where Lost River disappears, and the water is so stained with ochre as to be a deep red; and finally crossing the natural bridge, or causeway, and coming to the Klamath Basin; and crossing the Klamath River where there is a series of three low falls of about two feet high each, over some flat tabular rock formations they finally reached the dangerous Indian country of the Rogue River. Here occurred one of the strangest Indian fights. Mr. Case's party was not concerned in this, but was a few hours behind; yet enjoyed the results of the victory. The road at a certain point skirted along a bluff where there were many crevices and natural hiding places, and
