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TENTH EDITION
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HUMAN SEXUALITY
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Diversity in Contemporary Society
William L. Yarber
INDIANA UNIVERSITY
Barbara W. Sayad
CALIFORNIA STATE UNIVERSITY, MONTEREY BAY
HUMAN SEXUALITY: DIVERSITY IN CONTEMPORARY SOCIETY, TENTH EDITION
Published by McGraw-Hill Education, 2 Penn Plaza, New York, NY 10121. Copyright © 2019 by McGraw-Hill
Education. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. Previous editions © 2016, 2013, and
2010. No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, or stored
in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written consent of McGraw-Hill Education, including, but
not limited to, in any network or other electronic storage or transmission, or broadcast for distance learning.
Some ancillaries, including electronic and print components, may not be available to customers outside the
United States.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 LWI 21 20 19 18
ISBN 978-1-260-39712-3 (bound edition)
MHID 1-260-39712-2 (bound edition)
ISBN 978-1-259-91105-7 (loose-leaf edition)
MHID 1-259-91105-5 (loose-leaf edition)
All credits appearing on page or at the end of the book are considered to be an extension of the copyright page.
The Internet addresses listed in the text were accurate at the time of publication. The inclusion of a
website does not indicate an endorsement by the authors or McGraw-Hill Education, and McGraw-Hill
Education does not guarantee the accuracy of the information presented at these sites.
mheducation.com/highered
Dedication
Elton had a special relationship with Ryan White and has said
that Ryan’s activism, compassion, and courage inspired him to
change his life—to stop abusing drugs and to do something to
honor Ryan and give purpose to his life. After seeking
treatment for his addiction, he created the Elton John AIDS
Foundation, one of the largest funders of HIV/AIDS programs in
the world. President Bill Clinton said “My friend Elton has
touched us all with his music and with the countless lives he
has saved through his AIDS foundation.”
—w. l. y.
iii
Brief Contents
1 Perspectives on Human Sexuality 1
iv
Contents
PREFACE xviii | LETTER FROM THE AUTHORS xxix |
ABOUT THE AUTHORS xxxi
v
SEX RESEARCH METHODS 31
Research Concerns 32
Clinical Research 33
Survey Research 33
■ Practically Speaking ANSWERING A SEX RESEARCH QUESTIONNAIRE: MOTIVES FOR FEIGNING
ORGASMS SCALE 34
Observational Research 37
Experimental Research 37
■ Think About It A CONTINUED CHALLENGE FACING SEX RESEARCHERS: SELECTING THE BEST WAY TO
TO MORALITY? 46
The National College Health Assessment 47
The National Survey of Sexual Health and Behavior 48
Internal Structures 65
■ Practically Speaking PERFORMING A GYNECOLOGICAL SELF-EXAMINATION 69
Other Structures 70
©Ingram Publishing/SuperStock
The Breasts 70
vi Contents
FEMALE SEXUAL PHYSIOLOGY 71
Sex Hormones 72
The Ovarian Cycle 73
The Menstrual Cycle 74
■ Practically Speaking VAGINAL AND MENSTRUAL WELL-BEING 79
■ Practically Speaking SEXUAL AND REPRODUCTIVE HEALTH CARE: WHAT DO MEN NEED? 102
Spermatogenesis 104
Semen Production 105
Homologous Organs 105
FINAL THOUGHTS 109 | SUMMARY 109 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 110 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 110 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 110 | SUGGESTED READING 110
Contents vii
GENDER-ROLE LEARNING 118
Theories of Socialization 118
Gender-Role Learning in Childhood and Adolescence 119
Gender Schemas: Exaggerating Differences 123
FINAL THOUGHTS 139 | SUMMARY 139 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 140 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 140 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 140 | SUGGESTED READING 141
6 Sexuality in Childhood
and Adolescence 142
SEXUALITY IN INFANCY AND CHILDHOOD (AGES 0 TO 11) 143
Infancy and Sexual Response (Ages 0 to 2) 144
Childhood Sexuality (Ages 3 to 11) 144
The Family Context 146
FINAL THOUGHTS 165 | SUMMARY 165 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 165 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 166 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 166 | SUGGESTED READING 166
viii Contents
Cohabitation 179
Same-Sex Marriage 179
FINAL THOUGHTS 190 | SUMMARY 190 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 191 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 191 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 191 | SUGGESTED READING 191
JEALOUSY 202
The Psychological Dimension of Jealousy 203
■ Think About It THE SCIENCE OF LOVE 204
Contents ix
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CONFLICT AND INTIMACY 217
Sexual Conflicts 218
■ Practically Speaking LESSONS FROM THE LOVE LAB 219
Conflict Resolution 219
FINAL THOUGHTS 220 | SUMMARY 220 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 221 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 221 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 222 | SUGGESTED READING 222
AUTOEROTICISM 238
Sexual Fantasies and Dreams 239
Masturbation 241
■ Practically Speaking ASSESSING YOUR ATTITUDE TOWARD MASTURBATION 245
FINAL THOUGHTS 262 | SUMMARY 262 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 263 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 263 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 263 | SUGGESTED READING 263
OF PSYCHOLOGY 266
FINAL THOUGHTS 285 | SUMMARY 285 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 286 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 286 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 287 | SUGGESTED READING 287
ABORTION 312
Methods of Abortion 312
Safety of Abortion 313
Women and Abortion 314
Men and Abortion 315
The Abortion Debate 315
FINAL THOUGHTS 318 | SUMMARY 318 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 319 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 319 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 319 | SUGGESTED READING 320
Contents xi
12 Conception, Pregnancy, and Childbirth 321
FERTILIZATION AND FETAL DEVELOPMENT 323
The Fertilization Process 323
Development of the Conceptus 324
PREGNANCY 327
Preconception Health 327
Pregnancy Detection 327
Adjustments and Psychological Changes in Women During Pregnancy 328
Complications of Pregnancy and Dangers to the Fetus 329
■ Think About It SEXUAL BEHAVIOR DURING PREGNANCY 330
INFERTILITY 338
Female Infertility 338
Male Infertility 338
Emotional Responses to Infertility 339
Infertility Treatment 339
FINAL THOUGHTS 348 | SUMMARY 349 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 349 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 350 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 350 | SUGGESTED READING 350
xii Contents
ADDITIONAL SEXUAL HEALTH ISSUES 374
Toxic Shock Syndrome 374
Vulvodynia 375
Endometriosis 375
Prostatitis 375
FINAL THOUGHTS 377 | SUMMARY 377 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 378 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 378 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 379 | SUGGESTED READING 379
FINAL THOUGHTS 417 | SUMMARY 417 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 419 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 419 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 419 | SUGGESTED READING 419
Contents xiii
15 Sexually Transmitted Infections 421
THE STI EPIDEMIC 422
STIs: The Most Common Reportable Infectious Diseases 423
Who Is Affected: Disparities Among Groups 424
Factors Contributing to the Spread of STIs 426
■ Practically Speaking PREVENTING STIs: THE ROLE OF MALE CONDOMS, FEMALE CONDOMS, AND
FINAL THOUGHTS 453 | SUMMARY 453 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 454 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 454 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 455 | SUGGESTED READING 455
xiv Contents
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
CHAPTER LIX
ACROSS THE ATLANTIC
The way is long from New York to San Francisco. We have to pass
the Continent from East to West, making about 5000 miles. It took
thirty-five days to make that journey before the railway was built.
We will touch Niagara on our way to Chicago, and will continue the
journey the same day by a later train. To leave America without
seeing the Falls of Niagara was impossible.
The train rattled out of New York and crossed the Harlem. We
skirted that pretty little river and ran over the prairies. We travel in a
splendid “Wagner Express,” a rival to “Pullman’s Express.” All the
cars are first-class; it is only the so-named “Colonist trains” which
are second-class. Our saloon-car had no compartments in it, there
was just one wide corridor with velvet armchairs dotted about. In
front of our engine a kind of giant spade is fastened to clear the line
from droves of cattle and other encumbrances. A huge bell keeps
ringing all the time for the same purpose.
Towards night we removed to the sleeping-car, fitted up with a
long double file of two-storeyed bunks, the rows separated by a
green calico partition. The railway conductors are shiny black
negroes, surnamed “Johnny,” all of them. Our Johnny, a most jolly-
looking nigger, in white livery, was very talkative, his tongue went
like an express train. He plied us with questions and cross-examined
us about where we came from, where we were going to. Wasn’t he
also a spy? At all events we did not reveal our destination. We
pretended we were going no further than Niagara. In the night
Mme. Beurgier went to drink a glass of water, and when she crawled
in, in the dark, she couldn’t find out her sleeping-berth, and got into
Johnny’s couch. When her hands touched the darkie’s slippery face,
she thought she had touched a frog, and throwing herself back, she
bumped her face against the boards, at which her forehead instantly
developed a bump of many colours.
The jingle of the breakfast bell and Johnny’s piercing voice
shouting “First call for breakfast,” awakened me in the morning. I
had to crouch up and dress on my berth, and succeeded in putting
on my frock in a series of contortions. The Americans are very
unceremonious people; peeping through the curtain of my division, I
saw unattractive-looking bare legs underneath. All the passengers
assembled in the saloon to drink coffee, which was brought in by
Johnny and tasted very nasty.
We pass the towns of Rochester and Albion, and are speeding
along the wooded banks of Niagara River. The opposite bank is
Canada, a territory belonging to England. Johnny began cleaning
manipulations over our clothes, proceeding with bold strikes of his
brush, as if he were grooming a horse. Then he took off Sergy’s hat
unceremoniously, gave a vigorously brushing to it, and clapped it
upon his head again. After that he made a dash at my hat, but
without success, I having jumped back in time.
Here we are at “Niagara Village,” an agglomeration of splendid
hotels. The next train left at 9-15, and we had plenty of time to
spare. We made our way to “Hôtel National,” as we had no porters
to carry our things, we had to do it ourselves. We passed before a
negro boy perched on a high seat, motionless like a black statue,
sticking out both feet adorned with boots shining like twin stars. We
were told that the black statue was a boot-boy serving as
advertisement to a patent shoe cream.
At the entrance hall of the “National” we found negroes with
brushes who made dusting attacks at our clothes.
We are just in time for luncheon. The big hall was filled with
tourists who had come to see the Falls, the great wonder of the
world. We were served by a staff of waiters, negroes of blackest
ebony, the head waiter wore a flower in his buttonhole, and looked
awfully smart. During luncheon a pianist played to the
accompaniment of an orchestra. After lunch we stretched ourselves
comfortably in rocking-chairs on the veranda, looking out into a
shady park, and after a good rest, we took a carriage and drove to
Goat Island to see the Falls.
Niagara, in the Indian language, means “Thundering Waters,” and
in fact, from afar the thunder of the Niagara filled the air. We
wandered away in the direction of the huge roar. As we advanced
the sound became sharper and we had to shout to make ourselves
heard above the noise of the cataract. At length we came face to
face with the Falls. The sight of the foaming rapids fringed by
splendid trees, was awfully grand. Rainbows are reflected in the
water. The tumult of the Falls which attained the height of seventy
yards, broke in clouds of spray against the rocks. It was well worth
travelling all the way to see. Here and there we saw inscriptions:
“Don’t venture in dangerous places!” Leaning over the Falls, I felt
very small and strangely attracted by its foaming wonderful sheet of
water, just the same as I did whilst standing on Mount Vesuvius, on
the very brink of the crater. In a part of the park called “The Cape of
the Winds,” where the Falls have the form of a horse-shoe, we met a
party of audacious tourists, enveloped in yellow mackintoshes, who
were slowly groping their way along a narrow bridge thrown across
the cataract; underneath, the Niagara rolled gigantic and majestic in
a vast flood. After having rested for a little while on the grass,
discoursing about the beauty of the wonderful water-fall, we
returned to the hotel just in time for dinner. After the repast, all my
companions went out for a sail on the Niagara River; as for me, I
had quite enough of thrilling sensations for that day and pleaded a
headache as an excuse for remaining within. They went underneath
the Falls in oilskin coats and caps, supplied by the hotel, after which
they descended in a lift, and then walked along passages scooped
out of the rock, until they were underneath the Falls, which poured
over in front of them like a curtain, and then reached a steamboat
called “The Maid of the Mist.”
When my indefatigable companions returned, we walked across
the park to Canada “abroad,” as they call it here, and crossed the
river by a suspended bridge joining Canada to the United States. We
had to pay 25 cents each to cross the Suspension Bridge, which
seemed to hang over the water. This bridge had recently collapsed
and was now built again.
Whilst our companions explored Canada, I entered with Mrs.
Serebriakoff, a white farm-house with green shutters, entirely
covered with creeping plants, which announced in large white letters
“New Milk,” where we regaled ourselves with strawberries and
cream.
We were back to the hotel towards sunset and walked to the
station laden with our bags and umbrellas, where we arrived just as
the train was about to start.
This time our sleeping berths were still more uncomfortable,
arranged behind the partition for two persons on one bunk. This is
all very well for married couples but is it not particularly cosy for
strangers of different sexes to lie down all night side by side. This lot
befell Mme. Beurgier; her berth-mate turned out to be Mr.
Koulomsine, who after long parleys succeeded in finding a sleeping
berth in the next car.
I slept badly that night and got up very early. We had luncheon in
the restaurant-car about a quarter of a mile away from us in the
train. Pretty girls waited on us while in continual chorus came from
them: “Steaks, chops, ham and eggs, pie or pudding!” After the
repast the waitresses distributed small bouquets to the lady
passengers, and dining-car advertisements to the gentlemen.
CHAPTER LXII
CHICAGO
Towards five o’clock Michigan Lake came into view and spread
before us as broad as the sea, with tides coming in and going out,
and steamships gliding on the blue water. At the last station before
Chicago a boy came into the car piled up to his head with
advertisements, which he scattered over us; he was followed by a
man with a metal placard on his chest, who thrust into our hands a
card setting forth the virtues of Savoie Hotel, and promised to
occupy himself with our luggage. Most of the passengers left the
train at Hyde Park, the first stoppage at Chicago, but we pushed on
to Central Station. Over the city hung a sky laden with smoke;
everywhere black chimneys rose in the air.
Savoie Hotel is situated on the European place, the liveliest
quarter of Chicago. We took an apartment in the second storey, for 2
dollars ahead, with board and lodging.
Desirous to keep the strictest incognito, we registered our names
in the hotel-book, “Mr. and Mrs. Sergius,” for fear of spies. Dr.
Pokrovski took the name of “Castorio,” which suited his profession
admirably.
Our four days’ stay at Chicago seemed very short to me. Every
morning we went to visit Chicago’s World Fair. The exhibition
commemorated the fourth century of the discovery of America by
Christopher Columbus. The day was Sunday. A holiday crowd pushed
and elbowed about the various attractions, middle-class people for
the most part, and negro beauties and dandies. We walked through
the sections of the Exhibition, where nearly all the exhibited objects
are provided with the curt warning: “Hands off!” The Americans in
general, do not shine for their politeness! Whilst standing before a
show-window, a policeman approached us and asked what nation
we belonged to. We said we were a company of French tourists who
had come to see the World’s Fair.
Midway Pleasance is the most animated part of the Exhibition. We
entered a theatre where a Japanese play was going on. The actors’
faces were covered with terrifying masks, and they were all making
atrocious grimaces. After the play a troup of native musicians, sitting
on the floor, played “Yankee Doodle” and “God save the Queen” on
their national instruments. The spectators in the first row took off
their coats and remained in their shirt sleeves without ceremony.
Close to the Japanese theatre the Esquimaux performed marvels in
the way of throwing lances through rings. They invited the passers-
by to enter their enclosure and compete with them in a curious
sport, consisting in breaking big sticks into small bits by the means
of a long whip. The Esquimaux came from Greenland; they are
American subjects but do not speak English, they can say only: “Give
money!”
On the quay where stands the monument of Christopher
Columbus, the largest elevator in the whole world brought us in the
space of one minute, on the roof of the “Liberal Arts,” where we
visited a beautiful picture gallery containing the works of the most
renowned painters of different countries. The Russian pictures
occupy the first place, but our manufactory section is very poorly
represented. In one of the pavilions of the United States we saw
vegetables and fruit piled about in profusion. The fruit of California is
three times larger than in any other country; tempting-looking
apples and pears, coming from Los Angeles, were enormous in
proportion, but quite tasteless.
Foreign artists are greatly appreciated in America, and very highly
paid. When walking through the musical section we were agreeably
surprised to hear a first-class artiste play one of Chopin’s nocturnes
in a masterly manner, with a faultless technique and a perfect
phrasing.
“Beauties” brought over from all parts of the world black, white
and yellow, are exposed in a large hall, in stalls behind a railing, just
like wild beasts. One of the prettiest girls, dressed in our Russian
national costume, appeared to be a Polish Jewess, who had taken
the first prize in a recent “Beauty Competition.”
A picture of “Nana,” the heroine of Zola’s last novel, painted by
Soukharowski (a Russian painter), is exhibited in Chicago, and much
is made of that canvas.
We went to see a Museum of wax-figures, and saw among other
curiosities, a big giant and a negress dwarf with no arms, who
played the drum with her toes, and wrote her autograph holding a
pen between her toes. Next to her a pretty white-skinned dwarf
resembling a pretty wax-doll, attired in a beautiful evening dress,
was exhibited, who looked with disdain, mixed with jealousy, at her
dusky companion who attracted more attention than her dainty little
person. In the adjoining room a gipsy fortune-teller told people’s
future through examination of the palms of their hands. I wanted my
hand read and asked Mr. Shaniavski to accompany me to her booth.
From the very beginning the old gipsy woman made formidable
mistakes, taking Mr. Shaniavski for my husband. Nevertheless she
predicted a lot of charming things to me, and I left her booth with a
smiling face. After dinner we went to a Venetian Feast organised on
the central basin of Michigan Lake, which was transformed into a
Venetian canal. Gondolas floated on the lake, lit up by Chinese
lanterns.
Chicago is a dirty, noisy commercial town, and looks a
tremendously busy place. The smoke of the factories blacken the
sky; the soot stains the sparrows, making them look quite black. We
walked through the broad, straight streets of the Great Grey City,
stopping before the shop windows. We saw a shop bearing the
inscription “Food and dog’s medicine.” In a hair-dressing shop a
woman was sitting on a high seat with her back to the window with
wonderfully splendid hair falling down to the ground. We entered the
shop to see if the woman’s face corresponded to her beautiful
golden hair, but, alas, she appeared to be very unattractive. Her hair
served as advertisement for a patent elixir to make the hair grow.
How people have sometimes to earn their bread and butter.
The heat is intense. Everybody grumbled at the weather being so
hot. The head-porter of our hotel, who is a grand personage, too
languid to talk, in order not to be obliged to answer a hundred times
a day to the same complaint of the visitors about the heat, “Awfully
hot, isn’t it?” stuck a placard over the entrance door saying, “Yes, it
is very warm to-day!”
Mme. Beurgier couldn’t sleep for the heat, and went one night for
a stroll on the outskirts of Michigan Common. She saw heaps of rags
here and there on the grass; she touched one of them with her foot,
and oh, what a jump she gave when from the rags strange and
somewhat terrifying sounds proceeded, that indicated a drunken
sleep. It appeared that the whole place swarmed with houseless
vagrants, evidently prepared to camp out-of-doors till morning.
During our four days’ stay at Chicago there had been three awful
accidents at the Exhibition. First: A collision between two
steamboats on the lake. We were crossing the bridge at that
moment and saw a man extracted from the water with broken legs.
Second: A terrible fire had broken out in the very centre of the
Exhibition. An immense building was burnt to the ground. Dr.
Pokrovski saw people jumping down from the eighteenth storey and
killed on the spot. Third: A captive-balloon had burst, causing the
death of all the passengers.
2nd July.—We left Chicago this morning. Our train rolls rapidly
towards San Francisco. We have six days of railway. The
temperature being very hot, everyone put himself at his ease; my
travelling-companions also took off their coats—American fashion.
We drink iced-water the whole day to refresh ourselves. Our
“Johnny” lay full stretched on the sofa in the private saloon; Mme.
Beurgier tried to make him take a more correct attitude, but to make
remarks to the darkie was as fruitless as to sponge his nigger face
white. He paid no attention whatever to her reproofs and continued
his dolce far niente, munching an apple with beautiful white teeth.
Our train rolls on full speed. We are tossed about as on the sea.
“Johnny” came to make our beds early in the evening. We had to lie
down directly, for when the beds were made, there was no place to
sit down.
3rd July.—The railway line is uninteresting and monotonous and
the heat something dreadful. At five o’clock dinner was served in the
restaurant-car, consisting of broth and roast beef surrounded by
slices of oranges.
4th July.—We crossed the Mississippi in the night, and are rolling
through fields of Indian wheat and beetroot. The heat has still
increased and our car is like an overheated stove; the dust entering
through the windows transformed us into chimney-sweeps.
We cross now the States of Nebraska and Wyoming. The villages
and towns are all illuminated with electricity. We read now and then
the word “Saloon” gambling house written on the front of the
houses. I have remarked that at the railway-stations nearly all the
doors bear the inscription “Entrance forbidden.” It is curious how
many things are forbidden in this “Free Country!” It is also very odd
that the carriage-roads are not closed before the passage of trains;
there is only an inscription on wooden poles “Look out for the cars!”
5th July.—I woke up in the night shivering with cold. The train was
rolling through the states of Utah, across the Great American Desert.
The country is bare and dull, and very poorly peopled; not a tree or
a blade of grass is to be seen. The great want in the place is water.
A chain of snow peaks appeared on the horizon. We are crossing the
Cordilleras mountains and find ourselves at eight thousand feet
above the level of the sea. Soon after lunch the Valley of Salt Lake
spread before us. Our train runs amid green pastures. We pass little
hamlets and orchards, which seem very green and beautiful to me
after the long weary stretches of the desert we had just left.
Thatched ranches (farms) and bungalows peeped from beneath the
trees. We are in the legendary “Far West.” Here is a long haired Red
Indian, from Cooper’s Books, galloping on the road on a small lean
pony, followed by a cow-boy wearing a broad-brimmed hat. It only
wants “Buffalo-Bill” in person to complete the picture. Whilst
stopping at a station we saw a young Indian “squaw” (woman),
sitting cross-legged on the platform, wrapped up in a red blanket,
carrying on her back her papoos (baby), lashed up in its hammock.
American travellers ought to be accustomed to Red-Indians,
nevertheless they surveyed with great interest the young savage
female, who showed her nursling to them for the sum of 15 cents.
She refused outright to show her “papoos” to a passenger who
offered only five cents to her. The local colour begins to disappear in
the “Far West,” the Red-Indians throw off their plumes and deer-
skins for a flannel shirt and a felt hat. They were plentiful enough
about here some years ago, but the railroad, with its settlements has
swept them back. The railway-line was being built during five years,
the Red-Indians destroying it continually. In the olden days, a touch
of adventure was lent to the journey by the fear of an attack from
hostile Indians. We are told that even now there is danger on the
line from Indian bandits. Our train passes with illuminated
“Pullmans” in the centre of the plains, and my imagination getting
the better of me, I seem to see our train on that lone prairie,
surrounded by Red Indians. When I went to sleep, visions of fighting
savages woke me up with a suppressed scream, as I fancied I was
being scalped, and I find that it is only the shriek of the locomotive,
and the war-whoop of the Indians are only the outcries of our pacific
“Johnny” announcing that we were approaching Salt Lake City. The
capital of the Mormons’ State is surrounded by an amphitheatre of
hills, over which the Mormons’ Hierarchy still dominates. In 1890,
Welford Woodruff, the President of the Mormon Church, received, it
is said, a revelation from God, commanding that all Mormons should
give up their plural wives, and they are satisfied now with one
consort.
We are in a long, narrow pass: above us hang abrupt rocks and
below flows a serpentine river. Our train makes right angle turns,
and it seems as if we were turning all the time on the same spot.
Towards night we entered the States of Sierra Nevada; we are now
at only a day’s journey from Mexico. The towns, rivers and
mountains have Mexican names. A Mexican pedlar selling curios and
silver filigree jewellery, entered our car. Sergy bought me a finely
worked brooch in the form of a mandoline. We enter a narrow
wooden tunnel built to protect the line from stone avalanches, which
took a whole hour to go through.
6th July.—At dawn we speeded through the ranches of California,
and soon approached the town of Sacramento. Our train dashes now
on its way to the Pacific. We felt already the sea breeze, and soon
appeared the Gulf of San Francisco and the waters of the Pacific
Ocean. Our train was pushed by workmen along an artificial dike to
the station of Bonifacio, after which we rolled towards Oakland,
where our train after having been divided in three parts, was put on
a ferry. When we touched the other shore the train was made up
again, and took us straight to San Francisco.
CHAPTER LXIII
SAN FRANCISCO