Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1878-10-19

clouds above the belt take on vel
low-red. The gTayish shadows @
the dawn lift slowly from the eartl
and impereeptibly float skyward
Just before the red disc of the SUI
peers above the horizon line weirC
islands appear in the sky-island
clothed with trees and wavins
grasses, and held together by thread
of yellow and green and azure. The
earth stands inverted in the sky
The wooded bluffs and timber
islands of the prairie turn bottom
upward in the glaucous ether above
with their feet knee-deep in water
: The groundwork of this illusion is &
grayish, semi-opaque mist, but the
= smallest object upon the plain is
Hmned against it with marvellous
fidelity. Objects far beyond the
range of vision over the prairie are
brought into plain view by this
ethereal mirror l have seen a
little village thirty miles away over
the plains standing in the sky, ev-
cry feature traced with the minute
ness of a line engraving. / could
distinguish the dogs wandering
! through the streets, the cows stand
ing idly about the yards, and the
opening and closing of door in the
cabins. / have seen dog-sledges,
whose trains were out of sight be-
low the horizon, trail through the
heavens in tortuOuS course; long
lines of cart trains swaying to and
fro over the sand dunes of The sky.
In all these cases the ground does
not appear; only the objects grow
ing upon or passing over it. Every
thing has the appearance of growing
or standing in water. The feet of
animals, the roots of trees, the foun-
dation Of houses, are all lost in an
aqueous mist.
The ordinary features of the mi
rage-the simple drawing of distant
objects near the spectator-are of
common and, in many places, of
everyday occurrence at some sea-
sons of the year. A few rods away
on every side slight line of gray
ish mist, exactly resembling that
rising from lake or stream in early
morning, appears, and upon its sur
face is limned the whole landscape,
changing constantly, like the cOlOrs
OF a kaleidoscope, as the traveller
advances. The illusion continues
but few minutes, however. The
gold fades from the fieecy clouds
overhead as the yellow light de-
sends upon the plain, chasing the
receding shade before it. The sun
rises, and the dissolVing views of
| the mirage fade slowly away.
ON THE BOX OF A PRAIRIE COACH.
The stage road from Fort Garry
J fn Dam h1yon [nrnVonYIVno1 fNfE
dlC, a13gIice, "high-buSh cranberry'')
a black thread, over which the old
| fashioned swinging stage-cOach
jolts at the rate of eight miles an
hour. An extra dollar gives one
seat on top with the driver-a gen.
tleman whose bright blue eyes not
infrequently stand out in bold re-
lief, CLASSY and stony orbs of uncer-
tain lustre. He varies information
upon places of interest with brief
remarks to the fonr horses under |
his guidance; remarks of a some
what intensely physiological char
acter, and pointed principally at |
particular parts of their anatomy, |
such as their eyes, lights and liver. |
So accustomed has his team become !
to this gentle stimulant that the |
| slightest reference to either of the |
three organs mentioned is product
i've Of an immediate increase of |
speed. The first stages of the |
journey being an easy gradient, the
driver proceeds to "Whoop 'em up"
as he expresses it, while the passen-
ger clings nervOusly to the guard of
the box and endeavOrs to appear
happy. That the appearance is
somewhat true to nature you are led
to believe from the fact that the
driver asks you from time to time
if you have ever enjoyed a ride like
that; and when you truthfully reply
that you never have, he smiles APP
provingly, like a lecturer with an
appreciative audience.
PEMBINA.
Seen from the top of a coach, far
away over the plain, Pembina as
sumes indefinite and imaginary
proportions. To the traveller it APP
pears somewhat as ''lOne Khiva on
the waste' must appear to the cara
van which approaches it across the
desert. Its roofs and its solitary
wooden fort rising out of the level
prairie, and approached through
wide and trackless wastes, give it an
aspect of dignity and impressiveness
altogether out Of proportion to its
real magnitude. And yet Pimbina
is an old town, with history of
more than a quarter of a century.
r'ounded first by the servants of the
old Northwest Company, it became
a nerm anent abiding place for their
half-bree.5 descendants. Through all
the wears n, turmoil and contention
between the r. wal fur companies it
still retained ne semblance of
village. Its popu 'atiOn ebbed and
flowed, after the nil 'ratofy iaShI0n
of the plains, but life never Whoily
forsook it. Unlike oth>ST IfouIIs5
towns, it never "busted up anu
went on :" it was far in adva NICE OF
already, and hat. no
occasion for "going on" Not so
another town. which / remembe4S |,
upon the southern plains.
A DESERTED CITY.
Riding one autumnal day in COM
pany with party of bOrderers in Z
quest of buffalo, we came upon a t
IO"'s ol1AiNllnS SIICuL 1IIO OCo0IlCu
in the midst of a prairie. "That," O
said one, sis Carson City. 1t did a II
good trade in the old wagon days, a
but it busted up when the railroad e
went farther west and the people t
moved on. There's only one man a
left in it now, and he's got snakes
in his boots the hull year round"
what manner of man
this was who dwelt alone in the 81 >
ent city, we rode on. Only one !
house showed signs of occupation, !
and in it dwelt the man. We had !
passed through the deserted streets, Z
md gained the prairie beyond, l
when shot rang out behind us, .
md a bullet cut the grass to our left. !
Hello! he's on the shoot" cried !
1ne; "ride, boys!" and we rode. !
Carson City soon faded from view, l
out not so the memory Of that I
'busted-up" town and its solitary
who had perennial ''jim-