The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1876-09-01
EDITORIAL CORRESPONDENCE.

tired to a "section" in a sleeping car
and wooed the soothing company of
Morpheus all in vain. A restless night
at home is bad enough, but the long,
sleepless hours of darkness in crowded
Pullman, where everybody around you
from whom you are hidden only by a
curtain parted in the middle) is snoring
and somnolent, are absolutely dreadful
Morning came Sunday morning,
bright and breezy, but brought no
breakfast. The train passed the break
fast station at midnight, and our next
stopping-place would not be reached till
midnoon.
The Rocky Mountains were far in our
rear the snow-sheds became less fire.
quent, the grass was more abundant,
and after while sage brush grew scarce.
Countless herds roamed at will over the
verdant eXPanse, bounded only by the
bending sky. But for the telegraph
poles, which you count for hours in
desperate attempt to beguile the time,
there are no objects that give signs of
the rapidity of the flight of the iron
horse across the plain.
We know nobody, and, for the nonce,
have attempted the experiment of trav-
cling incog. But how lonesome and
tedious the hours are! We're too
hungry and weary to read or write, and
too restless and nervous to sleep.
Breakfast and dinner come together at
the hour of twelve, and we get the full
benefit of a greenback dollar.
Every car door has the words upon it,
in raised letters, "Passengers not al
lowed on the platform" Perhaps for
this reason we enjoy the platform bet
ter than any other part of the train, ex-
cept the engine. (We once bribed an
engineer with four bits to get a ride on
the engine through Webber Canon, and
we got the best half-dollar ride we
ever experienced; but it was stipulated
| by the second part that we were not to
tell on him, so NUNS the word, good
reader).
Taking a stool from a wardrobe hook,
we sat upon the platform, and rode for
hours in the teeth of breeze like a
Washoe zephyr. Now we are in Nebras-
ka's broad prairies, green and undulat-
ing, entirely destitute of timber, save
here and there a grove of cultivated cot
tonwood, they roll away into the INTERIM
Unable vastness of seeming infinitude.
Corn fields wave in the winds, wheat
fields bow their million heads to the
breezes, pastures are carpeted with luxu-
RANT sward; the Platte River seems to lie
fiat upon the bosom of the plain, like a
mammoth yellow muslin web laid out
to bleach, and the sky above US is as
pellucid as ether.
But what causes that cloud that seems
to gather forces from the far southeast ?
Why do we see such mountains of
,smoke in the distance? Is the prairie
on fire? We are not left long in doubt.
The grasshopper is abroad in the land.
He darkens the horizon; he fills the
zenith with glistening points; he lights
upon the railway The great engine
snorts as in anger. The great wheels
glide round and round, but not forward
the great train comes to dead stand
We have encountered a grasshoppel
blockade.
"Look ~ says fellow traveller.
We turn in the direction indicated
and behold, a mighty swarm of the
hungry, winged nomads lowering above
an adjacent corn field. A moment and
they are out of sight among the corn.
"Listen ~
The sound as of fire cracking through
a dense, dry thicket is heard. Another
minute and the great corn leaves fall as
though clipped suddenly by millions Of
shears.
Brushes are placed upon the cow
catcher to clear the way for the train
The track is sanded for space, the en-
gine snorts again, and-they've raised
the blockade. Pity we couldn't say the
same for the poor, despoiled farmers
How we wish the vast unclaimed
regions of Idaho, Oregon, and Washing
ton were peopled by these industrious
pioneers. How we wish they could
reach land where the song of the
grasshopper is not heard, where crops
never fail, and the fear of starvation is
not known!
Through belt of at least a hundred
miles of as beautiful prairie as ever lay
upon the bosom of the earth these pests
abound in myriads. Then we get out
of their range and a sense of thankful
ness fills US with a quiet joy.
1t is midnight when we reach Omaha
Now we are tired enough to sleep. The
porter arouses nobody till morning.
If there is any one thing that is more
needed and called for on the trans-con.
tinental cars than a separate sleeping
, apartment for ladies, we don't know
what that commodity may be. You are
compelled to dress lying prone upon
} your face, and you run the gauntlet Of
not over-modest masculine eyes every
time anybody squeezes through the mar.
row passage way and parts the curtains
} that form your chamber walls. If the
car is crowded you must sleep directly
under the berth of some strange traveller