habit of complaining bring forward their plans and discuss them: they cannot expect others to adopt their views without making them known; and if they neglect or refuse to do this they should cease to complain.

ART. II.---WESTERN GEOGRAPHY,

COMPRISING ALL THE TERRITORY WEST OF THE MISSISSIPPI, NORTH OF NEW MEXICO AND EAST OF THE MAIN

RIDGE OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

The Territory comprised within the bounds of the 49th parallel on the North, the Mississippi river on the East, the Arkansas and Red rivers, so far as they formerly constituted the line between the United States and Mexico, on the South, and the Rocky Mountains West, contains about 600,000 square miles. If we add to this the Territory contained within the original limits of Texas, West of Louisiana, the result will be near 630,000 square miles. Of this vast extent of country about 46,050 square miles are comprised within that portion of Louisiana lying west of the Mississippi river; 54,617 within the boundaries of the State of Arkansas; 66,000 within the boundaries of the State of Missouri, and about 45,000 within the boundaries of the State of Iowa; leaving about 420,000 square miles as the extent yet remaining in the great Western Territory. The Territory of Minnesota contains 128,786 square miles, that portion of Texas which we have mentioned, 30,000; and the Territory of Missouri proper about 266,214.

Of the Geography of the States West of the Mississippi it is not our intention to treat at large. The material facts may be found in a variety of other works. We will only sum up a few of the leading features, in order to give completeness to what we design saying in reference to that portion of the West yet unoccupied by civilized men. The soil of all the States is excellent, for the most part. That of Iowa and Missouri rests upon a limestone basis, and is fully equal if not superior to the soil of the States of Kentucky and Tennessee. A portion of the soil of Arkansas has the same foundation, and the remainder, together with nearly the whole of Louisiana, consists of alluvion deposited for ages by the great streams flowing from the West, and is very deep and of wonderful fertility. The State of Iowa is bountifully watered by a multitude of streams, which originate from or expand into a large number of lakes, filled with fishes, and these streams are fringed with fine forest trees, such as the oak, the hickory, the walnut, the ash, the maple,

the elm and the cottonwood. The States of Missouri, Arkansas, and Louisiana are also abundantly supplied with streams and rivulets, garnished with noble timber trees, and abounding in a variety of fishes. In all these States, the highlands between these water courses, expand into open rolling prairies, the soil of which is generally fertile, and producing a variety of rich grasses and succulent shrubs, but in some locations destitute of springs. The only sterile portion of land within the States is that which is intersected by the main chain of the Ozark mountains and their spurs, which take their rise near the Southwest corner of Arkansas, traverse the Western portion of that State, and the Southern portion of the State of Missouri, at an elevation of from 500 to 1,500 feet above the level of the Gulf, with a general bearing Northeast, until they break into spurs and knobs along the highlands which separate the waters of the Missouri from those of the Mississippi. This chain of mountains presents a succession of rugged ridges, precipitous heights, sterile plains and small fertile vallies, where the bleak aspect of the mountains, occasionally tufted with stunted trees and lifeless mosses, exquisitely contrast with the dark and shadowy gorges and the deep green vallies, all of which are more or less illuminated by the sun, and relieved and adorned by dashing cascades and pellucid streams.

The predominant feeling on first entering the vast plain which stretches from the line of the States to the base of the Rocky Mountains, is that of profound melancholy. The immeasurable expanse, apparently without distinct features to attract the eye, or fix the attention, spreads out into one monotonous series of gentle undulations. The eye labors in vain over ridge after ridge, until wearied and heavy, it is lost in dizziness of distance. Suddenly separated from friends and kindred, from the sympathies of social intercourse, the charms of the domestic fire-side, the familiar faces and well known objects of his daily routine, with all the habitudes of mind and action disrupted, and without a solitary object in unison with the feelings, the Pilgrim is alone with his God! The powers of the mind turn inwards, for occupation and relief. Imagination moves upon the troubled waters of memory, until dim and indistinct, the far off scenes of early youth are slowly awakened from their long sleep; gentle and innocent faces of playmates and the hills, and vallies, and streams, the scenes of many a gambol and prank of childhood, and anon the wild energies of youth, and the vaulting ambition of early manhood, with its brilliant hopes and confident anticipations, all array themselves as in a mirror for his contemplation. But the wounds of the spirit will not bear the probe, and egotism herself would soon revolt from self contemplation. Aroused from his reverie, with his senses stimulated and sharpened, the traveler eagerly looks

and listens for new objects of interest, and soon he discovers that the scenes through which he is moving, if entirely different from those of his habitual haunts, are marked by new peculiarities. One by one, the features of the country are developed at first scarce perceptible-at last distinct and clear, saturating his mind with new beauties, and filling it with original forms. Near him, the surface undulates, as the ocean after a gale, and in the distance, waving blue lines, flanked by buttes and knobs, and fringed with trees, mark the windings of many streams. Upon the prairies, the tall rich grasses occasionally cover the surface for miles and miles together, scarce interrupted by any thing else; then the wayfarer will discern bunches and zigzag lines of alder, of hazle and interlaced vines and briars, and again large spots will be enriched by boquets of wild roses, and flashing flowers; filling the air with fragrant odours, and outvieing in grace and beauty the rarest exotics. There the gentle harebell, the carnation rose, the blue violet, the gaudy piony, the modest daizy, the simple butter cup, the fragrant sweet briar, the purple amorpha, and an endless variety of shrubs and flowers, are set as gems upon the deep green verdure of the plains, delighting the eye with their brilliant hues, and enriching the imagination with gorgeous pictures of grace, beauty and grandeur.

The face of the country presents a nearly uniform sucession of ridges and vallies, marked by curved lines, nowhere expanded into dead flats, save in the river bottoms, broken into knobs and bluffs along the streams and along the entire skirt of these bottoms, but never too much so to prevent a profuse growth of grass everywhere. The soil for upwards of two hundred miles westward has nearly the characteristics of that of the adjoining States. From the Arkansas boundary to the cross timbers, the highlands are fertile and beautifully variegated with open prairies and tufts of forest trees and glades, with an occasional intermixture of small spots too flat and marshy for cultivation. The river vallies consist of a deep rich loam, in some places subject to inundations, but for the most part tillable. That portion adjacent to the boundary of the State of Missouri, including the sources of the Neosho, the Verdegris, the Marais de Cygnes and other tributaries of the Osage, and the lower section of the Kansas river, is unparagoned for the fertility of its soil, the value of its timber and forest trees, the beauty of its rolling prairies and broad vallies, the number of its pellucid streams and rivulets, and the salubrity of its climate. Though this first section of the great Western Territory is more scant of timber than the adjoining States, it equals them in fertility and water courses, and surpasses them in the purity of its atmosphere. Traveling due West from Independence, in the State of Missouri, this dark fertile soil ceases at

Sandy Creek, a tributary of the Kansas; moving on the route to Santa Fe, it commences deteriorating at Council Grove near the Neosho river, and becomes more sterile thence to the Arkansas; and farther North it is intersected by the Platte river with its double line of sterile bluffs. It is remarkable that this change of soil is not gradual traveling due West, but sudden and palpable to the most careless observer. At Sandy Creek and at Council Grove the traveler sees the last timber trees, properly so called, until he approaches the spurs of the Rocky Mountains; and at these points it is that the caravans of emigrants and traders usually make a pause to provide themselves with timber to rectify any accident which may occur to their

wagons.

South of Platte river this fertile district is contiguous to one directly West of it, where the soil is so intermixed with sand as scarcely to be perceptible, save in its luxuriant grasses and shrubs, which extend several hundred miles towards the mountains, and is again succeeded by a strip of fertile dark soil along the eastern slopes of the mountain chain. The vallies of the Platte, Arkansas, Kansas and Red Rivers, consist generally of rich alluvion, freely interspersed with sand; and the high dividing ridges between those great streams become more sterile, as we recede from the waters, until upon their summits the grasses become stunted, and present a withered and sickly appearance.

North of the Platte river, and adjacent to the first district, and between its North and South forks, the whole soil is largely interspersed with a formation of marl and earthy limestone, so tenacious in some places as to be nearly as much indurated and give the appearance of the yellow soap stone of our streams, but this extensive district is also intersected by ridges (not of desert) but poor soil. It is in this district that what are called buttes by the French and Cerros by the Spaniards, make their appearance. Custom has, however, enlarged these terms to include what we denominate bluffs and knobs. It is as if the whole surface had suddenly and regularly sank, leaving points and portions of various sizes, and forms from twenty to three hundred feet above the plains. The sides of these buttes are nearly perpendicular, and their upper surfaces flat and covered with grass. This is the formation of which the Court House, the Cathedral and the Chimney rocks of the Platte river are composed. These formations are so called because at some miles distance, they bear a rude resemblance to the things from which they are named. Col. Fremont has only mentioned one of the Chimney rocks of which he has given a lithograph. There were two in the summer of 1843. As the tallest of these is one of the grand land-marks of traders and hunters, it should be mentioned that it is (or was) about two hundred feet high.

Between the forks of Platte river, at a place called Goshen's Hole, this formation has been worked into an extraordinary imitation of a massive fortification. At a little distance it strikingly resembles masonry; and it sweeps round an area of two or three hundred yards in diameter in the form of a half moon, terminating in immense bastions with domes and minarets along the whole line of the parapets. This formation juts for some distance across the South fork of the Platte presenting a variety of strange and fantastic forms.

On the head waters of White river there is a space of near thirty miles in diameter broken into buttes and towers. Some miles off, the traveler sees gleaming in the sun the outlines of a fairy city. Palaces and walls and fortifications shine and frown upon the surface, and steeples and domes and minarets in innumerable fantastic and beautiful forms shoot up to the height of several hundred feet. It is similar to the optical delusions, described by Parry and Scovesby, in the masses of ice in the polar seas, or the extraordinary phenomena sometimes exhibited by the refraction of light in the atmosphere, portending, in the estimation of the ancients, the fall of thrones and the revolution of empires. But the delusion soon vanishes, and nothing is presented to the eye but cold, dead masses of marl and earthy limestone, worked into picturesque forms by the power and the caprice of the elements. Scattered through this city of clay, we found great numbers of petrefactions on the surface, principally of turtle, some of which were fifteen inches across the back, and the whole body, shell, legs and intestines perfectly hardened into stone. A few wolves" heads may also be found, with a multitude of small shells and molusca. This spot is very celebrated among traders and trappers, not only for its curiosities, but because of its having been a great Indian battle ground, time out of mind. It is also a place of refuge and security for traders, when pursued by hostile bands of Indians. Once fairly within it, and the pursuer had as well attempt to thread the Egyptian labyrinth, such a multitude of narrow and winding passages and strange and curious caverns does it contain. The French traders have given it the name of "Le Mauvaise Terre." The fugitive is amply supplied, too, with good water, preserved in a number of great natural reservoirs. It is impossible that such a soil can be otherwise than very productive.

Scattered all over these western savannahs may be seen immense masses of rock, distributed by the subsiding waters of the last great flood, many of them several hundred tons in weight, and only imbedded in the soil to the extent of their specific gravity. Towards the western section also, trees of the largest size have been hurled from the mountains by torna