Connecticut western news., 1873-05-02
Om the Pacific Rmilro.ada.

these sheets, nor one who has gone ou from among us. temporarily, "takin nntes," hut one whose face has been f., miiar in our midst during the successiv summers for fifteen years, and whose jour
 'eying+, in search of health, have penetra ted now region comparatively new. w give his sketches by tho way, b lievinI
 many friends will be glad to trace hi progress. and read with pleasure the psges which, written mostly as family letters, w now place ut the disposal of the NEWS:
 March 26th, 1873.
 Here we are. on the Union Pacific rail road, fifteen miles from Omaha, having crossed the Missouri river. and fairly begun our journey across the plains. We are comfortably located in Pullman car, witt two sections opposite each other. SO VI, shall not have to change our seats until VI, reach Ogden, one thousand miles away. wrote you short note when 1 reached Onah~; thls one Twill m .i wien we nee the eastern bound train tomorrow. IL Is . bright. beautiful day, rot cold, and yer, little snow on the ground.
 The country through which we are pass ing is very similar to thu. around Daven port There is the same rolling prairie which We used to admire, with little tim Ter along the water courses. We have just stopped at Fremont, about three miles from the Platte rlver. We have lunched yer, substantially from our bisket. There is n. note! CAT attached to the train. and an told that the eating houses are not over and above good.
 SIDNEY, March P. don't think tha, you will know any better where am than tt had not written the above address, bnl we have spent another night on the cars We travelled yesterday along the north bank of the Platte. The country through whicl we passed gives token of a rapidly increas 'ng civilization, good houses, improved farms and cattle, where few days ago tn. buffalo and elk roarned at large. At Grant Island we saw few of the original inhab- ltants. They were Pawn, es, miserable rem nanis of once powerful tribe who owned that country. They were loafng abou, the depot with few bows and arrows which they were trying, with poor success, to sell. We passed, in the course of the day, quite an encampment of these Ted men. They had their skin lodges sll pain, ed with rude figures, and quite number ot horses and ponies We're running on the prairie near the tents. could not hell feeling sorry for these original owners oi the soil. White man has introduced them tc civilization, and they fade away. 1t wa, nearly dark when we left Grand Island, and we could not see much of the country. w. did not, however, miss much. When awoke this morning we were running ul Lodge Pole Creek, sluggish stream which has not a tree to enl,ven i;s banks. Tue country is wilderness; no houses, excep, at the stations. l have seen no wild ani lnals of any sort, and very few tame ones It is thus far the most uninteresting country ever saw. will write next from Sal, Lake. Not particle of snow here.
 SALT LAKE C1TY, March 2S.-Here we are in the city of the Mormons, tired. bu, otherwise none the worse for our long journey. l wrote yesterday from Sidney, where the train stopped for breakfast. The character and features of the country r.. maining similar to that already described along the bank of Lodge Pole creek, the same everlasting bare, barren plain, with out tree to enliven the view, and nothing to indicate the continued ascent but the in creased rarity of ;Le atmosphere. It is the most lonely and desolate country have ever passed through; no living thing did see upon these deserts, not even hawk or buzzard. The antelope and elk, of which read in my guide book, were myths, and not even a prairie dog parked at the passing train. The only signs of former life were the deserted shanties of the lsborers who mad built the road, and the bleached bones of the many cattle who had perished hy the waysids in their long march across tue plains. It was impossible in the crowded train, with all the appliances of civiliz .tion about us, to feel that sense of desolaiiom which the scene would. under other circun- stances. have produced. so that the sole impression was that of weariness. Look ing from the windows was no relief, for after one glance we had seen all. l be- guiled the hours with books, conversation and other devices of the modern traveller. A little after noon we reached Cheyenne, a city which sprang up from the prairie as if ny magic, and one time rivalled Sodom in wickedness. It once held d population of 5000, and now It has barely 5000. Chry. enne is 6.O00 feet above the level of the sea. about mile higher than our city oi Chicago. The air was not cold, however, and very little snow lay on the ground, bu, the wind was blowing '.grest guns <" as flu riously, l thought. as it could blow, until we reached Sherman, which maintains 6 terrific hurricane. Soon after leaving Cheyenne we ran through prairie doy village; they were no novelty to me, but il was amusing to see the little marmots run ming here and there. and popping suddenly into their holes. The road rises rapidl, after leaving Cheyenne, and at Sherman forty miles farther-it attains an elevation of 8, ,240 feet. Before reaching Sherman we had fine view of the Black Hills, al covered with snow, the first mountains W, had seen though we were in the heart ot tue Rockys. The ascent is 80 gradual one is not conscious of the altitude until he 1, informed by the barometer. A, Sherman the wind blew such gale as l never SAW throwing the sand against the cars witl great violence. and yet a U. s. soldier wht was on the train told me this was the quiet est day he had seen there during four years residence. After leaving Sherman VI passed through some rough gorves in whicl