It seemed that mountain
was piled upon mountain. No sooner would we arrive at a place that
seemed to be the top than another view of a higher, and yet higher
mountain would rise before us. From the foot to the top of the mountain
the soldiers lined the road, broken down and exhausted. First one
blanket was thrown away, and then another; now and then a good pair of
pants, old boots and shoes, Sunday hats, pistols and Bowie knives strewed
the road. Old bottles and jugs and various and sundry articles were
lying pell-mell everywhere. Up and up, and onward and upward we pulled
and toiled, until we reached the very top, when there burst upon our
view one of the grandest and most beautiful landscapes we ever beheld.
Nestled in the valley right before us is Bath Alum and Warm Springs.
It seemed to me at that time, and since, a glimpse of a better and
brighter world beyond, to the weary Christian pilgrim who may have been
toiling on his journey for years. A glad shout arose from those who had
gained the top, which cheered and encouraged the others to persevere.
At last we got to Warm Springs. Here they had a nice warm dinner waiting
for us. They had a large bath-house at Warm Springs. A large pool of
water arranged so that a person could go in any depth he might desire.
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