Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1901-09-26

THE OVER
E~~~N~~~~~>>~~~~~~~~~
There is something wonderfully i'm
pressive about q trans-continental
train. AS 1t stands painting. ready for
the start, this magnificent triumph OF
mechanical ingenuity and skill seems
thing Of life and thought. 1t seems to
be something more than mere Journey,
for you are about to cross continent.
You are about to penetrate a vast re-
gton OF mountain, river and plain tnat
only few years ago was wilderness.
You are about to see what stupendous
obstacles the courage of man must over
come when he sets out to conquer a
country. You are about to see for your
self that vast area, the subjugatton OF
which has challenged the admiration OF
all mankind. You are about to face
dangers that would appall you were 1t
not for the confidence reposed in the In
trepid men in whose charge you are. IN
their skill, their courage and IN the su-
perb workmanship Of the mechanism
that is to carry you. You are to cross
vast plains, go over and under mighty
mountains, cross great rivers, ascend
tremendous gorges. traverse dizzy
Hedges and spin over many trembling
trellis. The machinery for such an nn-
6ertaking must not only be of the best.
but 1t must be in the most perfect con-
dition: the eye that inspects 1t must see
everything: the hand that holds the
lever must be steady and fearless; the
brain that guides it must be far above
the ordinary. Think OF the intricate
system that every twenty-four hours
sends this magnificentTy arranged mass
of wood and steel, loaded with human
freight, toward the setting sun. Every
brake must be in perfect order, every
coupling strong and secure. every wheel
and piston must move in perfect unison.
A single imperfect part, no matter how
insignificant. means certain death to
hundreds of human beings.
Promptly at 1876 p. m. every day In
the year this great train of twelve cars,
drawn by gigantic Schenectady engine,
moves out of the union depot at St..
Paul and, rounding the curve north Of
the city, leaps forward in its run to
Portland. 1000 miles away. We are on
the Northern Pacific overland All
light long we fly over the wheat fields
and thru the forests OF Minnesota. As
the sun is rising we find ourselves CROSS.
ing the famous Red River Of the North.
and in moment find ourselves in the
beautiful city Of Fargo. Here we rest
for ten minutes, and then speed away
to the west. thru the orld-famous
wheat fields of North Dakota. Mount
aims and gorges please the eye, appeal
to the Imagination; there is poetry in
them, but to one properly constituted
there can be no more beautiful land
scape in the world than these waving
fields of grain as they stretch away to
the horizon. They fill the granarles Of
the world and feed and make happy and
prosperous the human race. Has ma
ture produced anything finer, or has my
carly education been neglected?
As we make our morning toilet some
one cries '.Look!' We see and count
binders, one behind the
other, each drawn by four horses, ali
In motion, and at work on one OF the boz
nous. Breakfast is now served la |
carte. We do not hurry, because we
have all the time there is. The North.
=
the dining car at special points. Both
diner and attendants stay with US until
Portland is reached. All day we glide
over the level plains of North Dakota,
and shortly after noon pass thru Bis |
marck, the capital. cross the Missouri
river and stop a few minutes at Man.
odan. Here we turn our watches back |
one hour.
Soon the scene changes, We are now
entering the Bad Lands the most
weird and God forsaken looking coun-
try on the face Of the earth. Not wholly
desolate, but hideous; 1t appeals neither
to the eye nor to the imagination; 1t is !
all bad, and the Almighty must have
meant to deter men from entering 1t. |
Rising abruptly out Of level plain are
circular pyramids. rocky, treeless, ugly, |
then what resembles rrowning battle
ments, ruined castles dismantied fort
resses, hog backs weird. fantastic. I'M
natural and ugly, always hideous and
ugly. No wonder the hostile Sioux gave
our troops such a long. weary chase. Its
windtngs would have tried
the skill of Jason searching for the |
Golden Fleece.
AS the afternoon wears away we pass
the little station. Medora. and now we
come to prairie dog town" only speak
of the prairie dog because he is always |
included in the annals of the western
country: why, hardly know. He is an
insignificant and useless little creature,
and interesting only because he is
unique. But they are funny little fell
lows, and as busy as bees.
Toward eyeing we halt for a moment /
at the little town of Wibaux, just over
the line in Montana. We have traversed /
1884 miles Of Dakota country. speak of
Wibaux for another reason. 1t is one of i
those parched, hot, dry. treeless places
in that brown and choking stretch of (
country, lying on the western edge of
the bad Lands" Wibaux, who made I
his fortune in cattle, lives there. His /
cottage can be seen from the train, a
roomy. cosy, red-roored, one-story af-
fair. Under its caves little river runs,
A slightly stone wall sustains the rivers
bank. and windmill eleyates the wa
ter to the ample grounds around the
cottage. Trees border the lawn and the
cottage u almost uncovered In vines