And then Ibex in that link said "I like the Cascade Mountain History that is evolving, un-moderated and free-wheelin’. I call it…..
In the late eighteen hundreds during the silver boom in Monte Cristo, a young Irishman came across the sea and then traversed the continent to make his fortune and to seek adventure. To his dismay, he arrived too late in the mining district to stake a good personal claim. Instead, he hired on with a company mine near the Pride-of-the-Mountains Range. The pay was good and on each day off he would travel down river to seek good drink and the company of a lady. It was with the greatest of luck that he was befriended by a wonderful maiden while the train was broke down along the banks of the Stillaguamish River. Their friendship quickly grew and he was soon supporting the orphaned Indian girl. They were both very happy and together they built a cabin to share in the abundance of the Sauk Prairie. On one especially dark day he was hurt in a mining accident and he lost his leg. His loyal mate lovingly nursed him back from the brink of death, and through the experience they both were enlightened with religious conviction. He was so struck by his conviction that he began preaching to all that he could gather. His flock eventually grew until he created a ministry that extended south into the Snoqualmie Valley. Over the years he moved on to develop a preaching circuit that stretched along the Yakima River Valley. He was so successful that he and his wife were able to retire to their favorite spot near the head of the Cle Elum River. They summered at their cabin perched high above Deep Lake. They were surrounded by a heavenly beauty and they chose appropriate names like Mount Daniel, Cathedral Rock, and The Citadel for the nearby peaks. Some say the quaint pond behind the cabin he named after his loving wife. But, the more romantic story is that the pond shares the name she affectionately gave to the one legged preacher.
This piece is submitted without a reference list and without a statement of authenticity. Just a good story told by an ageing mountain traveler. Laid down for the fun of the telling and the enjoyment of the listener. Gleaned from a few assorted facts and liberally embellished in the tradition of his Native American ancestors and the way they told their stories. "
Can you even be sure that's what that is? There would be more lasting substantial logs in the area if that used to be a cabin. Besides, at that elevation where would they find enough large (even 6" diameter) logs to construct a cabin?
-------------- "If destruction be our lot we must ourselves be its author and finisher. As a nation of freemen we must live through all time or die by suicide."
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