While sailing up the Columbia, Mrs. Duniway wrote Mrs. Stan ton:  “Miss Anthony has been holding large meetings in Portland, Salem and Oregon City, and has conquered the press and brought the whole fraternity to terms.  She has also succeeded in holding important and successful meetings at The Dalles, and is now returning with me from a series of lectures in Walla Walla.  We find the people everywhere enthusiastic and delighted.  Her fund of logic, fact and fun seems inexhaustible.  She speaks three and four consecutive evenings in one place, and each time increases the interest.  We are all justly proud of her.”

At Walla Walla the church doors were closed to her but she spoke in the schoolhouse.  At Salem all the judges of the supreme court were in her audience and afterward called on her.  She had good houses everywhere but money was hard to get, and she speaks in her letters of being almost frantic lest she may not be able to meet her notes on January first, “the one cherished dream of this year’s work.”

In a letter from Olympia describing the journey she said:  “Here I am, October 22, at the head of Puget Sound.  This was my route—­Portland, down the Willamette river twelve miles to the Columbia; then down that river one hundred miles to the mouth of the Cowlitz, Monticello; then ninety miles stage-ride, full sixty of it over the roughest kind of corduroy.  Twenty-five miles to Pumphrey’s Hotel, arriving at 6 p.m.; supper and bed; called up at 2 o’clock, and off again at 2:30—­perfectly dark—­lantern on each side of coach—­fourteen miles to breakfast at 7, horses walked every step of the way; eighteen more, walk and corduroy, to dinner; then thirty miles of splendid road, and arrival here at 5:30 p.m.”  At Seattle, November 4, she wrote home: 

For the first time I have seen the glory of the sunrise upon the entire Coast Range.  The whole western horizon was one fiery glow on mountain tops, all cragged and jagged from two miles in height down to the line of perpetual snow.  It has been very tantalizing to be on this wonderful Puget Sound these ten days, and never see the clouds and fogs lift themselves long enough to give a vision of the majestic mountains on either side.  My one hope now is that they may rise on both sides at the same time; but the rainy season has fairly set in.  It has rained part of every twenty-four hours since we reached Olympia ten days ago.  The grass and shrubbery are as green and delightful as with us in June, and roses and other flowers are blooming all fragrant and fresh.  The forests are evergreen—­mainly firs and cedars—­and on the streets here are maple and other deciduous trees.  The feeling of the air is like that during the September equinoctial storm.  The sound, from twenty to forty miles wide, with inlets and harbors extending full two or three miles into the land, is the most beautiful sheet of water I ever