DES MOINES TO OMAHA.
One Hundred and Fifty-seventh Day.
_Byers House_,
ADEL, IOWA,
_October 15, 1876_.
Left Des Moines with pleasant thoughts of the cordial reception I had
met with, and pursuing my way westward over the prairies, reached this
village in the evening after a twenty-five miles' ride over a section of
the country strikingly beautiful. The soil of the prairie, I am
everywhere informed, is almost invariably of the most productive
character. No other State, in short, has finer facilities for growing
all the cereals of the temperate zone than Iowa.
Adel is the county-seat of Dallas County, situated on the Raccoon
River--generally called the "Coon." At the period of my visit the
village had a population of less than one thousand, and although
agriculture is the leading industry, considerable attention is given to
manufacturing. The prairie land in the vicinity was, as yet, sparsely
settled, but every inducement was offered settlers to establish
themselves here. I noticed some broken fields, and blue smoke curling up
from farm houses in the distance; and after eighteen miles of enjoyable
exercise in the pure prairie atmosphere, reached this small village,
where I concluded to halt for the night.
One Hundred and Fifty-eight Day.
_Private House_,
DALE CITY, IOWA,
_October Sixteenth_.
Weather warmer, pleasant and more invigorating than during the past few
days. Left Adel at eight o'clock A. M., and passed through Redfield at
eleven, still on the great prairie which appears to have no limit. From
the hill-tops the valleys wear the aspect of cultivated meadows and rich
pastures; and on the level spreads the wild prairie, decked with
flowers, its long waves stretching away till sky and prairie mingle in
the distance. Twenty years ago the red men chased the elk and buffalo
where now are prairie farms and prairie homes. As I advance, I meet
occasionally with trees skirting the streams that find their way to the
rivers that intersect this beautiful State.
[Illustration: A NIGHT AMONG COYOTES.]
Had dinner at a prairie farm house and talked politics with the farmer,
whom I found was an enthusiastic admirer of Peter Cooper. He did not
expect his political favorite would be elected, but as a matter of
principle would vote for him. I told him if he called himself a
Republican, he should cast his vote for Governor Hayes, but my advice
probably had little effect upon him. Reached Dale City about one
o'clock. It was a small village in Lyon County, with about two
hundred inhabitants.
One Hundred and Fifty-ninth Day.
_A Night with Coyotes_,
BETWEEN DALE CITY AND ANITA, IOWA,
_October Seventeenth_.
My journey to-day led me again over the seemingly endless
prairie--extending beyond the range of human vision. Halted at a farm
house for dinner, near Dalmanutha, an agricultural settlement in Guthrie
County. Wishing to reach Anita before stopping for the night, I
continued on the road after dark, contrary to my usual practice.
For some time before sunset I had not seen a farm house or even a tree
as far as the eye could reach, and now could see nothing of road or
trail. Accordingly I gave _Paul_ the rein and left him to pick his way.
He followed a sort of blind road which led to a haystack. I thought I
could do no better than make my bed on the sweet hay, and decided to
spend the night there supperless. I had scarcely settled myself when a
troop of coyotes, or prairie wolves, came howling and barking in front
of me. This made things uncomfortable, and I at once jumped to my feet
and, revolver in hand, faced the enemy. Several were killed by my fire.
The remainder, however, continued to threaten an attack. I was puzzled
as to what was best to do when I was suddenly re-inforced by a friendly
dog, who, attracted doubtless, by the report of the pistol and the
barking of the coyotes, came to my rescue, and kept the animals at bay
for the remainder of the night. At daybreak I was not sorry to bid adieu
to the haystack and, neither, I believe, was _Paul_, who had also spent
a restless night, notwithstanding the abundance of good fodder at his
disposal.
It may be mentioned that the coyote seems to partake of the nature of
the dog and the wolf. In the winter, when food is scarce, these animals
will attack man, but, unlike the wolf, if a bold resistance is offered,
they will speedily decamp. A pack of coyotes, however, are not pleasant
company on a dark night.
One Hundred and Sixtieth Day.
_Pacific Hotel_,
ATLANTIC, IOWA,
_October Eighteenth_.
Was again all day on the prairie inhaling the pure, invigorating air as
_Paul_ and I faced a stiff breeze from the Northwest; and at four
o'clock arrived at Atlantic, a thriving village of over three thousand
inhabitants, dependent, like all the villages I had passed, upon the
surrounding farms. These farms are mostly in a flourishing condition,
are fenced and under good cultivation, divided into meadows and fields
of every variety of grain. The village is delightfully situated. As an
evidence of its prosperity it supported two ably conducted daily papers
and three weeklies, three banks and several graded schools. I was now
eighty-two miles from Des Moines. The prairie here is gently undulating
and the soil composed of vegetable mould and sand. Atlantic, I infer
from its busy appearance, has a destiny above that which it has
attained.
One Hundred and Sixty-first Day.
_Columbia House_,
AVOCA, IOWA,
_October Nineteenth_.
Weather cloudy, threatening rain as I rode out of Atlantic in the
morning at ten o'clock. Covered twenty miles and stopped for dinner at
another farm, near Walnut. On my road saw a man at work in a large
cornfield and, hailing him, inquired the distance to Avoca. After a few
words had passed between us, I was surprised and pleased to discover
that he was from my native county--St. Lawrence, New York, and knew many
of my old friends and acquaintances in that quarter. Our conversation
turned upon old localities and associations, much to our mutual
enjoyment. The days of our youth were recalled, and although we had
never met before, we parted after half an hour's chat as if we had been
friends of many years' standing. My friend expressed perfect
satisfaction with his rustic life on the prairie and was quite
enthusiastic over the prospects of his farming operations. The soil he
said was excellent, easy to cultivate and, in fact, second to none in
the State.
Avoca is a purely agricultural village with a population of about 1,500,
all, more or less, interested in the big farms within a radius of one to
two miles of the busy town. Two weekly newspapers kept the citizens _en
rapport_ with the outside world and the hustling life of the large
cities.
One Hundred and Sixty-second Day.
_Neola House_,
NEOLA, IOWA,
_October Twentieth_.
A drizzling rain on leaving Avoca made the prospect of my ride to this
point somewhat gloomy. Over the interminable prairie again my journey
lay, as it had done ever since I entered the State of Iowa, but a more
magnificent sight I never saw than presented itself before me this
afternoon on reaching the summit of an extensive table-land between
Avoca and Minden.
Halted a few minutes for lunch at Minden, and met a gentleman there who
had attended my lecture at Detroit, upon which he was pleased to
compliment me. Neola is a small prairie settlement of about three
hundred inhabitants and is surrounded by several good farms. Of the
Neola House I can only say that I shall not easily forget it and its
proprietor--especially the nocturnal serenade of all the cats of
Neola--which deprived me of sleep throughout the night; and the
extremely scant accommodations provided for the guests.
The soil here is inferior in quality to that of no other section of the
State. The land is well watered and was gradually filling up with an
industrious class of citizens.
[Illustration: OMAHA, NEBRASKA, IN 1876.]
One Hundred and Sixty-third Day.
_Atlantic Hotel_,
OMAHA, NEBRASKA,
_October Twenty-first_.
Left Neola at eight o'clock and reached Council Bluffs at three P.M.
Found the road on approaching the city, in bad condition, but the
splendid country through which I had passed since entering the State was
perhaps equal to anything ever trodden by the feet of man. The surface
of Western Iowa is very different from that of the prairie region in the
eastern part of the State, being rougher and more hilly. The numerous
streams proceeding from springs bursting from the hillsides, are clear
and swift. Near the Missouri River, high and precipitous mountain bluffs
are ranged, and the region contiguous is very hilly. The highest hills
are covered with verdure--grass and timber. The soil generally is light
and to appearance poor, but is loose and sandy, and found to be easily
cultivated. Creeks and smaller streams of water occur frequently and
afford power for mills and machinery, and furnish abundant supply for
farming uses and stock.
The first white settlement in Western Iowa was made in the year 1847, by
a company of Mormons or Latter-Day Saints, who had been exiled from
Illinois in poverty and destitution. They passed through a part of the
country then only inhabited by savages. They planted small colonies at
places on the route, the main body pushing on to the bluffs near the
Missouri River. A considerable number, unable to go farther, remained
here, commenced clearing the land for farming, and two years later, in
1849, began the building of a town on the site now occupied by the city
of Council Bluffs. Their new town they named Kanesville after one of
their leaders. Several stores were built and opened, and the population
was soon largely increased by people who were not Mormons and had no
sympathy with them. The new settlers being greatly in the majority,
virtually drove out the "Saints," who finally left in a body to join
their people at Salt Lake City.
Council Bluffs is now the most populous and flourishing city of Western
Iowa. At the time of my visit, the inhabitants numbered only about
8,000, but it was then growing rapidly and bid fair to become one of the
big cities of America. There is a large trade here employing an immense
capital. The most important manufactures are the iron works and machine
shops, the agricultural works, carriage factories, steam plows, and
mills of various kinds, the city has ample railroad communication by
means of several lines converging here. Omaha, on the opposite bank of
the Missouri, is only four miles distant. The fine, substantial bridge
connecting the two cities is 2,750 feet in length and has eleven spans.
It has a railroad track, and accommodation for horse-cars and ordinary
travel.
The most important public buildings are the County Court House, City
Hall, High School building and the ward school houses. There were three
banks and two daily and three weekly newspapers. The Catholics have a
seminary for young ladies and a boys' parochial school. The State
Institute for the Deaf and Dumb is near the city.
[Illustration: HIGH SCHOOL, OMAHA, NEBRASKA.]