New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1859-07-14
New11ork Daily Gribm,re
an OVERLAND JOURNEY.
XII
rur PLAINS-THE MOUNTAINS.

An. 70 eOp which stretches hundreds OF uhes easE
80 from this spot toward the Missouri, and is
,,ovp a. The Plains, aud that which overlook' Va
=, the West, and Ike by its abrupt and sharp
,Sses foot hills seeming just at hand, AMI Us gut
tsying peaks of snow in the blue distance vndi-
Gates it's current designation The Mountains. Let
ne elucidste:
The Plains are nearly destitute Of human in
hsbitsnts. Aside from the Buffalo range-~hich
has been steadily narrowing ever since Daniel
Boone made his home in Kentucky, and is now
Asrdt, two hundred miles wide-t affords little
sns,.napce and less shelter 10 Man. The Antelope
are seldom seen in herds-tbree is the highest num-
her I obseryed together while one, or at most two
Is more common. One 70 each mile square would
be large estimate for ell that exist on The Plains
Eli are scarcely seen at all, even where they haze
hardly ever been buuted or scared. OF Deer,
there are none, or next 10 none. For the Plains
are the favorite haunt Of beasts and birds Of prey
Of The rsvenOus and fearless Gray Wolf, of the
COYOTE, the Raven sbd the Hawk-the first hang
Da on the TANKS OF every great herd of Buffalo,
=, oy to wsylsy any foolish calf needless heifer
that nay chance to stray for water or fesher grass
beyond the protection OF the hard headed and chiy-
srous patriarchs, behind whose yigant ranks there
il comparative safety, and counting as their prop
erty any bull even, whom wounds or disease or
decreptude shall compel to fall behind in the per-
petaal march For, while stray Buffalo, or two,
or three, may liDger in some lonely valley for months
for oil winter perhaps-the great herds which
baeken the earth for miles ia extent cannot afford
INN rnU
their safety in travelling so compactly that they
must keep moving or starye. Avoiding, so lar as
possible. the wooded raeines Of the slender water
courses, where experience has taught them 10
dread the lance.hke arrow of the lurking Indian,
they keep to the high divides, or only feed IN the
valleys while they have these well covered by sem
tin bulls to give warning Of any foes approach
Tase awsy the Buffalo aud the Plans will be desOlate
far beyond their present desolation; and cannot
but regard with sadness the inevitable and not dis
tant fate Of these noble and harmless brues already
crow ded into Il breadth of country TOO narrow for
them, and continually hunted, slaughtered deci
mated, by the Wolf, the Indan, the White man.
They could have stood their ground against all in
the absence OF firearms but vilainOus satpeter"
is too much for them. They are bound to perish;
trust it may be rather by sudden shot than by
slow starvation
Wood and Water-the prime necessities of
the traveller as Of the se,tler-are in adequate
thOr'h Dot abundant supply for hundred miles
and more on this as they are throughout on the
other side of the Buffalo range; at length they
gradually fail, and we are in desert indeed. No
spring no brook, for distance of thirty to sixty
miles (which would be stretched TO more than
hundred if the few tracks called roads not all
run so as to secure water so far pO.sble)-riyers
which have each had fifty to hundred miles OF It's
course gradually paIched up by force OF sun and
wind and It's waters lost in their own sands so that
the weary, dusty traveller vainy digs for hours in
their dry beds in quest of water for his thirsty
catte-rivers which dare not rise again TIL some
friendly brook, having its source in some specially
favored region pOurs IN its small but steady tribute
moistens the sands of the river bed and encourages
lie waters to rise to the surface again In one
ease, an emigrant assures me that be dug down to
the bed rock Of one of these rivers, yet found all
dry sand.
/ know not that can satisfactorily account, even
10 myself for the restitution of Wood which the
Plains everywhere present, especially the western
half of them TDe poverty of the soil Will not
suffice, for these lands, when sufficiently moiatcned
BY rain or thawing snow-drifts, produce grass, and
are not so sterile as the rocky hills, the pebbly
knobs, of New England, which nevertheless pro-
duce Wool rapidly and abundanty. On the
Praires Of Illinois, Missouri and civilized Kan
sas, the Absence of wood is readily accounted
for by the annual fires which, in Autumn or Spring,
sweep over nearly every acre of dead grass, Killing
every tree-spTOut that may have started up from
scattered seeds or roots running from the umoer
in the adjacent Iay1e beneath the matted grass.
But here are thousands of too poorly erased
10 be swept by the annual fires on which the
thny scattered reed stalks and bdnchgrass OF last
year shake dry ly in the fierce nisht-winds-yet not
atree nor shrub relieves the tsmeness the baroness,
the desolaton. of thousands after thousands OF
scres-not twig, scion, gives promise OF trees
that ale 10 be. For tine the narrow rayue OF
lowest interyae of the frequent streams werc fairly
tinbered with Cottonwood and low, SPRAYING
Elm, with very little Oak or White Ash at long
intervals intermixed; but these grew gradually
thinner and feebler until nothing but few small
Cottonwoods remained, ard these skulkiDg behind
bluffs or in sheltered hollows at intervals of twenty
TO forty miles. Once in ten or twenty miles,
bunch of dwarf willows, perhaps tNo feet hgn,
would be found covering 10 some petty basin
washed out by current Of water many years ago;
y these, like the Cottonwoods, are happy il able
hold their OVID; indeed, have seen much evil