The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1894-08-10
PART II.
The, Country of the Saints.

PART II.
The, Country of the Saints.
CHAPTER I.
On the Great Alkali Plain.
On the central portions Of the great
North American continent there Hes an
arid and rcpulsive desert, which for
many a long year served rs a barrier
against the advance Of civilization.
From the Sierra Nevada to Nebraska,
and from the Yellowstone river in the
north to the Colorado upon the south,
IL a region Of desolation and silence.
Nor Is nature always n one. mood
throughout this grim district. 1t COM
prises snow-capped and lofty mountains
and dark and gloomy valleys. There
ure swift flowing rivers which dash
through jagged canyons; and there are
enormous plains, which In winter are
white with snow, and in summer are
gray with the saline alkall dust. They
I'LL preserve, however, the common
characteristics Of barrenness, tnllOsptt-
ality and misery.
There are no inhabita lts OF this Lind
of despair. A band of Pawnees or OF
Blackfeet may occasion lily trnverse 1t
In order to reach other hunting grounds,
but the hardest of tho braves are glad
to lose sight Of those 7awsome plains,
md to find themselves once more upon
the prairies. The coyote skuAks among
the scrub. the buzzarl flaps heavily
through the alr, and the clumsy grizzly
bear numbers through the dark ravines,
and picks UP such sustennnce rs 1t can
among the rocks. These ara, the sole
DIV ellers In the wilderness.
In the whole world there eau be no
II ore dreary view than that from the
northern slope of the Sierra Bl.in 20.
AZ far as the eye can reach stretches
tile gra at ftat plaliilanu. utt lust.,f OVER
with patches OF alk,,li, and intersectctl
by clumps Of the dwarfisll clapp,ral
bushes On the extcame verge Of the
horizon lie a long chain of mo ':ltaiIl
peaks. with their rugged submits
1ccktsl with snow. In this great
stretch Of country there is NO sign of
life, nor Of anything pertaining to life.
There is no bird N the stcel-blue heav-
en-, no movement upon the dull gray
carth-above oil, there is absolute ST.
lence. Listen as one may, there Is no
shadow Of n sound In all that mighty
wilderness; nothing but silence-cOm-
pletc and heart-subAluing silence.
1t has been said that there is nothing
arpcrtaining to life upon the broad
plain. That is hardly true. lacking
down the Sierra Blanco one sees Il
pathway traced out across the desert,
which winds away and Is lost in the ex-
trelne distance. 1t is ruttel with
wheels and trodden down by the feet
of many Adventures. Here and there
are scattered white objects which glis-
ten In the sun, and stand out against
the dull deposit Of alkan. Approach,
and examine them! They are bones,
some large and coarse. others smaller
and more delicate. The former have
belonged to oxen, and the latter to
men. For fifteen hundred miles one
may trace this CHASTITY caravan route
by these scattered remains of those
who have fallen by the wayside.
Looking down on this very scene,
there stood on the fourth Of May,
eighteen hundred and forty-seven, a
solitary traveller. g, His appearance
was such that he might have
been the very genius or demon Of
the region. An observer would have
found It difficult to say whether he was
nearer to forty or to sixty. His face
was lean and haggafd, and the brown
parchment skin was drawn tightly over
the projecting bones; his long, brown
hair and beard were all fiecked and
dashed with white; his eyes were sunk
en- In his head, and burned with an un
natural lilstre; while the hand which
grasped his rifle was hardly more
fleshy tian that Of skeleton. As he
stood, he leaned upon his weapon fol
support, and yet his tall figure and tht
massive framework Of his bones sug
gested n wiry and vigorous constitu
ton. His gaunt face, however, and Iii,
clothes, which hung so baggily over his
shriveled Limits, proclaimed what il
was that gave him that Senile AMI dc
+, crepit appearance. The man was dy
| ing-dying from hunger and from
thirst.
He bad toiled painfully down the RI
vine, and on to this little elevation, il
the vain hope Of seeing some signs o.
1 water. NoW the great salt kplai1
stretched before his eyes, and the dis
tant belt Of savage m0lntaAa1, lwlthou
a sign anywhere Of plant or tree, which
might indicate the presence Of moist
urc. In all that broad landscape ther,
was no CLEAN of hope. North, ant
east, and west he looked with wild
| questioning eyes, and then he realized
that his wanderings had come to NJ
end, and that there. on that barrcl
crag. lie WIS about to die. "Why no
here as well as In feather bed, TWEEN
ty years hance," lie lnuttered, as Ii,
seated himself IN the shelter of .
boulder.
Before sitting down, he had depos
tied upon the ground his useless rife
and also q large bundle tied up in .
gray shawl, which he had carried
slung over his right shoulder. 1t up
pcared to be somewhat too heavy fol
Ills strength, for. In lowering It, 4
came down on tll9 ground with sOni'
little violence. Instantly there brOk,
from the gray parcel little Moaninl
cry. and from 1t there ppotp4ded ,
small, scared face, with very ligh
brown eyes, and two little speeklcd
dimpled fists.
you've hurt me-" said a childish
voice. reproacllfully.
Have ! thought" the man answered
penltently; II dIdR't 90 for to do 1t.
| AS he spoke he unwrappel the gra!
shawl and cxtricated very pretty lit
tic girl of about five years Of ag,
whose dainty shoes and smart pinl
frock. with its little linen apron, nj
bespoke mothers care. The chilli
was pale and wan, but her healthy
arms and legs showed that she had sui
fertd less than her companion.
How IL 1t now?" he asked, anxious
| ~, for she was still rubbing the towsy
golden ciafs WHICH covered the back o.
| her head.
-Kiss 1t and make 4 WELL" abe said