The Valley Virginian. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1865-1895, 1878-03-28
NO. 81

IL enjoying the pretty landscape, watching
the distan. mountain tops, white with snow,
and cleaning like silver in the sunlight.
AT Grand Island we step for supper, Which
the same isn't an island at all, at all, but
only another young Western town, taking its
name from an island in the Platte river. 1t
has nicely kept hotel, and that interested
me more than aught else. This point is 1853
miles west OF, and has an altitude of 1874 feet
greater than Omaha. [ notice the atmos-
phere is keen and cold, and am thankful that
1t falls to my lot to cross the plains in well
warmed palace cars rather than in one of the
long, low, white covered emigrant wagons
behind patient oxen which toiled for six
months to accomplish a journey we now
make in five days. AS night closed in 1
drew the curtains, and leaning back upon
the luxurious cushions, gave myself up to
quiet enjoyment. Closing my eyes, repeat
ed softly the description which Joaquin Mil
Ter, the poet of the Sierras, gave of the over
land journey before an eagineer's skill
planned the pathway for the iron horse:
ga tale half tol d ard hardly understood;
The talk OF bearded men that CHANGED to meet,
That leaned on long, quaint rifles in the wood,
That looked in fellows faces, spoke discreet,
And low, as half in doubt and in defeat
OF hope; tale it was of lands of gold
That lay towards the sun. Wild wing'd and fleet
1t spread among the swift Mssouris bold
Unbridled men, land reached to where Ohio rolled.
The long chained lines of yoked and patient steers,
the long, white trains that pointed to the West,
Beyond the savage west; the hopes and fears
OF blunt, untutored men wi O hardly guessed
Intercourse; the brave and silent women dressed
In homely spun attire, the boys in bands,
The CHEEKY babes that laughed at all and blessed
The doubling hearts with laughing, lifted hands,
Proclaimed an exodus for far, untutored lands,
The plains The shouting drivers at the wheels +;
The crash of leathern whips; the crash and roll
OF wheels; the groan of yokes and grinding steel,
And iron chain. and 10 at last the whole
Vast line that reached as if to touch the goal,
Began to stretch and stream away and wind
Toward the west as il with one control
Then hope doomed fair, and home lay far behind;
Before, the countless plain and fiercest OF their
kind.
The way lay wide and green as fresh as seas,
And far away as any stretch of wave;
The sunny streams went by in belt of trees;
And here and there the tasselrd tawny brave
swept by on horse look d back, stretched forth
and gave
yell of hell, and then did wheel and run
Awhile, and point away, dark proved and grave,
Into the far and dim and distant plain,
With signs and prophecies and then plunged in
again.
Some hills at last began to lift and break,
Some streams began to fail OF wood and tide;
The sombre plain began betimes to take
A will md wild
1t stretched it's naked breast on every side.
A babe was heard at last to cry for bread
Amid the deserts; cattle lowd and died,
And dying men went on with broken tread
And left long black, serpent line of wreck and
dead
The dust arose, a long, dim line like smoke.
From out riven earth The wheels went by,
The thousand feet IN harness and in yoke,
They tore the ways of ashen alkali;
And desert winds blew sudden, swift and dry,
The dust; it sat upon and filled the train;
| 1t seemed to fret and fill the very sky.
Lo! dust upon the beasts the tents, the plain,
And dust, clast on breasts thatrose not up again.
They sat in desoat:on and in dust
| By dried and desert streams the mothers hands
| Hid all her Bonded face the cattle thrust
Their tongues and family called across the land.
The babes that knew not what the way thro sands
| Could mean, would ask if it would end to-day.
| The painting wolves slid by, red-eyed, in bands
| To streams beyond. The men looked far away
And silent saw that all boundless desert lay.
| They rose at night; they struggled on and on,
| AS thin and still as ghosts; then here and there
! Beside the dusty way before the dawn,
Men silent laid them down in their despair
| And died.
| They stood at last, the decimated few,
| Above a land of running streams. And they
Pushed aside the boughs and peering through,
| Beheld, afar, the cool, refreshing bay!
My brave and aforementioned heroes, rest!
You fell in silence, silent lie and sleep.
The desert winds, they whistle by and sweep
About you Drowned and russell grasses
wave,
Along thousand leagues that lie one common
| grave. TRuFAX.
| Int Eabru