Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1882-07-07
THE FAR WEST.
Southern Dskots-The Bad Lands - Tho
Yellowstone Valley.


DIR. j. V. Shoemaker in Philadelphia In
quirer.l
MILES CITY, Montana, June 1S.-Last
evening, after mailing you letter from
Bismarck, describing our travels in Min
nesota, Canada and northern Dakota,
we boarded the train for the far West.
The journey was full of interest and
A ride of a few seconds
brought our cars beside the swift and
surging waters of the Missouri A large
steamer lay IN waiting, and the cars of
our traln were soon pushed ON board;
whistle, and the vessel was ploughing up
the river against a rapid current. This
broad and expansive body of water,
rushing and surging by, with the beauti-
tul foliage on each bank, was brought
clearly and wildly into view by the
mellow reflection of the moon. On the
boat sped, and we were soon safely on
the opposite bank, steaming west. A
quiet and peaceful night of slumber,
and every one was awakened by the cry
of the
BAD LANDS
On looking from the car window one
OF the most curious and picturesque
.,
most grotesque formation, made up of
soil of various colors, deep red stone
clay material being especially prominent.
stretched for miles on all sides. Our
party soon filled the rear and front plat
forms, and when the train stopped at the
station near the Little Missouri river we
were enabled to make more critical ex-
ANIMATION OF these peculiar natural for
matlonS, which are called IN this country
Duties. 1t seemed very evident that
these hills were in some instances very
warm, and in others filled with shoulder
ing fires from which issued vapors Of
smoke, the result of combustion in some
form. In still others, however, on all
sides nature had burnt up, in all proba-
bility, the coal that existed in them, and
they stood out in bold relief, covered
with thin crop of grass and of all i'm
aginable shapes, now looking like q
human being, again like some handsome
piece of architecture, and, in one marked
case, perfect outline of well-formed
watch dog. We watched for hours from
the cars these queer and fascinating hills
that reminded one very strongly of the
Egyptian mounds.
AS the train continued 10 move swiftly
on the Buttes gradually became further
apart, and we gradually glided into the
lovely
VALLEY OF THE YELLOWSTONE.
The winding river, with its yellow wa
ter. glided by, and twisted itself like
serpent far away until it was lost in the
distance to join the mighty Missouri. The
banks on both sides of the river were
smooth, but rolled back in beautiful
| slope to the hills in the distance. The
| foliage became thicker, small streams
rushed by to join the Yellowstone, and
game of all kinds, especially birds and an
telopes, abounded in large numbers all
| through the valley. The further on we
sped the plain became broader, covered
with short grass and filled with prairie
dogs, popping in and out of their bur-
rows, until at last we emerged into large
plateau, and Miles City, the present termI-
nus OF the Northern Pacific, was an
| nouncd.
| We were all at this time collected In
the corner of the Car, admiring O. real live
scout, in his full suit of buckskin, COW
cred with his frontier armory, who had
| boarded the trian but a few minutes pre-
vious. Some of our over anxious breth-
rem soon engaged the native of the plains
in conversation about the Indians and
the warlike aspect of this neighborhood.
The conversation tagged after our new
friend, who is known as Buckskin Jack.
informed his hearers that very mysteri-
Gus occurrence had just happened four
miles from that point. "What, what is
it," exclaimed several voices "Why,"
said Jack, ''seven dead bodies have lust
been found but snort distance from the
city" care they any of the doctors from
the East who live in this section" asked
several. Our friend could not
say. Silence followed. One prominent
New York physician, however, who
had come out to rough it thoroughly in
this country, showed marked signs of agi- :
tation. We slowly disembarked, partook
of dinner. The New Yorker was sad and
pensive. In the meantime the down east
ern train was announced. Up sprang
our friend, and the last seen of him he
was quickly making his way to the depot
with his satchel, saying, as he passed
along, he had seen enough of this coun-
try.
A NEW CITY.
After the unexpected departure of our
friend we moved around the city, which
is composed of wooden buildings and
tents scattered over the plain, and, what
we would call in the East, village. 1t
showed, however, more activity than any
of our larger towns. Soldiers, Indians,
trappers, hunters aud scouts, with their
pants in large boots, in some cases on foot
and in saddle, armed in some instances
with pistols or large dirk knives flashing
from their belts, rode through the streets,
lounged at the corners, filed the busy
stores, or hung over the fencing, and In
the grog shops they were present on all
sides. The auctioneer proclaimed, in
loud and boisterous tones, in one corner
the value of his wares; the beer maidens,
all in colors, peeped from behind the bar
at passers-by. Off little distance some
half-breeds were shooting at mark; in
the opposite direction two Indians were
running a race with as handsome and
noble Indian ponies as could be seen in
any part of the far West, while in differ
ent parts of town officers moved to and
fro in the saddle, in some cases accom-
panied by lady; here and there fine
lady rider appeared alone; mixed and
commingled with buggies, wagons and
carriages, and you have the picture COM
plete of Miles City. We moved through
all the motley crowd and scenes at free
dom and unframed.
Tn Tho aftorpoon yya tnoLx nopioc or1