are prominently visible to every traveler upon the Union Pacific Railroad.

One of the most interesting objects to me was the "Thousand Mile Tree,"
whose towering height I could imagine and long to behold as described to
me by my companion and friend, its strange isolation sending a peculiar
thrill of loneliness through the heart of one who was fifteen hundred
miles from home. This old tree, through some strange freak of nature,
stood a solitary sentinel, a guide-post of nature to tell the traveler he
was a thousand miles from Omaha.

As we neared Weber River our well known and popular conductor came into
the cars, and in a voice of deep, rich melody, sang the words of the then
favorite song:

"Yes, we will gather at the river.
The beautiful, the beautiful river;
Gather with the Saints at the river,
That flows by the throne of God."

The passengers, as we neared the kingdom of the Saints, catching the
magnetism of his song, joined in the sweet refrain until it swelled into a
soaring, reverberating harmony.

We reached Ogden City just as the sun was setting in royal hues, and
repaired at once to the White House, the only gentile hotel in the place.




CHAPTER XXVI.