A

CHAPTER XLVII.

THE PLAINS.

ND here also, as at Chicago, the demon of speculation was nearly getting the better of our small and not by any means wealthy party. It was a terrible temptation to hear of all those beautiful grazing lands close by in the Platte Valley, the freehold of which was to be purchased for a song. The fact is, things were rather bad at Omaha while we were there; and although every body tried to hang on to his real estate in hopes of better times, still the assessments pressed hard, and one could have very eligible "lots" at very small prices. No doubt there were ominous rumours about. We heard something, as we went further west, about county commissioners, elected by the homesteaders and pre-emptors, who are free from taxation, going rather wild in the way

of building roads, schools, and bridges at the cost of the mere speculators. It was said that these very non-resident speculators, whose ranks we had been tempted to join, were the curse of the country, and that all laws passed to tax them, and to relieve the real residents, were just. Very well; but what was that other statement about the arrears of taxes owing by these unhappy wretches? Was it fair of the government of any State or any country in the world to sell such debts by auction, and give the buyer the right of extorting forty per cent. per annum until the taxes were paid? We regarded our friends. We hinted that this statement was a capital credulometer. The faith that can accept it is capable of any thing.

These profound researches into the condition of public affairs in Omaha, during the further day or two we lingered there, were partly owing to vague dreams of the pleasure of proprietorship, but no doubt they

and touching some distant sandy slopes into a pale crimson. Lower and lower the sun sank until it seemed to eat a bit out of the horizon, so blinding was the light; while far above, in a sea of luminous green, lay one long narrow cloud, an island of blood-red.

In a second, when the sun sank, the world seemed to grow quite dark. All around us the prairie land had become of a cold, heavy, opaque green, and the only objects which our bewildered eyes could distinguish were some pale white flowers-like the tufts of canna on a Scotch moor. But presently, and to our intense surprise, the world seemed to leap up again into light and colour. This after-glow was most extraordinary. The im measurable plains of grass became suffused with a rich olive green; the western sky was all a radiance of lemon yellow and silvery gray; while along the eastern horizon-the most inexplicable thing of all--there stretched a great band of smoke-like purple and pink. We soon became familiar with this phenomenon out in the West—this appearance of a vast range of roseate Alps along the eastern horizon, where there was neither mountain nor cloud. It was merely the shadow of the earth, projected by the sunken sun into the earth's atmosphere. But it was an unforgettable thing, this mystic belt of colour, far away in the east, over the dark earth, and under the pale and neutral hues of the sky.

The interior of a Pulman sleeping-car, after the stalwart coloured gentleman has lowered the shelves and made the beds and drawn the curtains, presents a strange sight. The great folds of the dusky curtains, in the dim light of a lamp, move in a mysterious manner, showing the contortions of the human beings within who are trying to dispossess themselves of their garments; while occasionally a foot is shot into the outer air so that the owner can rid himself of his boot. But within these gloomy recesses there is sufficient comfort; and he who is wakeful can lie and look out on the gathering stars as they begin to come out over the dark prairie land. All through the night this huge snake, with its eyes of yellow fire, creeps across the endless plain. If you wake up before the dawn and look out, behold! the old familiar conditions of the world are gone, and the Plough is standing on its head. But still more wonderful is the later awakening; when the yellow sunlight of the morn

ing is shining over the prairies, and when within this long caravan there is a confused shuffling and dressing, every body wanting to get outside to get a breath of the fresh air. And what is this we find around us now? The vast plain of grass is beautiful in the early light, no doubt; but our attention is quickened by the sight of a drove of antelope, which trot lightly and carelessly away toward some low and sandy bluffs in the distance. That solitary object out there seems at first to be a huge vulture; but by-and-by it turns out to be a prairie-wolf-a coyotesitting on its hind legs and chewing at a bone. The chicken-hawk lifts its heavy wings as we go by, and flies across the plain. And here are the merry and familiar little prairie-dogs

half rabbit and half squirrel-that look at us each from his little hillock of sand, and then pop into their hole only to reappear again when we have passed. Now the long swathes of green and yellow-brown are broken by a few ridges of grey rock; and these, in some places, have patches of orange red lichen that tell against the pale blue sky. It is a clear, beautiful morning. Even those who have not slept well through the slow rumbling of the night soon get freshened up on these high, cool plains.

At Sidney we suddenly came upon an oasis of brisk and busy life in this immeasurable desert of grass; and of course it was with an eager curiosity that we looked at these first indications of the probable life of our friend the ranch-woman. For here were immense herds of cattle brought in from the plains, and large pens and inclosures, and the picturesque herders, with their big boots and broad-rimmed hats, spurring about on their small and wiry horses.

"Shall you dress in buckskin?" asked Lady Sylvia of our lieutenant; “and will you flourish about one of those long whips?" "Oh, no" said he; "I understand my business will be a very tame one-all at a desk."

"Until we can get some trustworthy person to take the whole management," said Bell, gently, looking down.

"What handsome fellows they are! the lieutenant cried. "It is a healthy life. Look at the keen brown faces, the flat back, the square shoulders; and not a bit of fat on them. I should like to command a regiment of those fellows. Fancy what cavalry they would make-light, wiry, splendid riders

Lady Sylvia had never heard that legend of 1870; but she listened to it now with a proud and eager interest; for she had never forsaken, even at the solicitation of her husband, her championship of the Germans. "I will write a ballad about it some day," said the lieutenant, with a laugh. "Es ritt' zwei Uhlanen wohl über den Rhein-'

"Yes!" said Lady Sylvia, with a flash of colour leaping to her face," it was well over the Rhine-it was indeed well over the Rhine that they and their companions got before they thought of going home again !"

ing the rueful expression of his wife's face, burst out laughing.

"You will have elbow-room out here, eh ?" said he. "You will not crowd your neighbours off the pavement."

"I suppose we shall have no neighbours at all," said she.

"But at Idaho you will have plenty," said he; "it is a great place of fashion, I am told. It is even more fashionable than Denver. Ah, Lady Sylvia, we will show you something now. You have lived too much out of the world, in that quiet place in Surrey. Now we will show you fashion, life, gayety."

"Is it bowie-knives or pistols that the gentlemen mostly use in Denver?" asked Lady Sylvia, who did not like to hear her native Surrey despised.

"I think we should not be likely to have that chance again," said he; "the French will take care not to fall into that condition again. But we are now safe, and for a long time, because we have their great fortresses, and then our own line of the Rhine fortresses as well. It is the double gate to our house; and we have locked all the locks, and bolted all the bars. And yet we are not going to sleep."

We were again out on the wide and tenantless plains, and Bell was looking with great curiosity at the sort of land in which she was to find her home; for over there on the left the long undulations disappeared away into Colorado. And though these yellow and grey-green plains were cheerful enough in the sunshine, still they were very lonely. No trace of any living thing was visible-not even an antelope, or the familiar little prairiedog. Far as the eye could reach on this high-lying plateau, there was nothing but the tufts of withered-looking buffalo-grass, with here and there a bleached skull, or the ribs of a skeleton breaking the monotony of the expanse. The lieutenant, who was watch

things of the reformation of Denver. The singing-saloons, they are all chapels now. All the people meet, once in the forenoon and once in the afternoon, to hear an exposition of one of Shakspeare's plays; and the rich people, they have all sent their money away to be spent on blue china. All the boys are studying to become bishops—"

He suddenly ceased his nonsense, and grasped his wife's arm. Some object outside had caught his attention. She instantly turned to the window, as we all did; and there, at the distant horizon, we perceived a pale transparent line of blue. You may be sure we were not long inside the carriage after that. The delight of finding something to break the monotony of the plains was boundless. We clung to the iron barrier outside, and craned our necks this way and that, so that we could see from farthest north to farthest south the shadowy, serrated range of the Rocky Mountains. The blue of them appeared to be about as translucent as the silvery light in which they stood; we could but vaguely make out the snow peaks in that long serrated line; they were as a bar of cloud along the horizon. And yet we could not help resting our eyes on them with a great relief and interest, as we pressed on to Cheyenne, at which point we were to break our journey and turn to the south. It was about midday when we reached that city,