Thus, gradually, we are entering the prairie country, which extends as
far west as the Grand Coteau of the Missouri. This prairie region is
covered with a rich growth of grass; the soil is extremely fertile, and
capable of producing a variety of cereals. Over the greater portion of
the prairie country, indeed, forests of aspens would grow, did not
annual fires in most parts arrest their progress. Here and there
numbers have sprung up. The true prairie region in the United States
extends over the eastern part of Ohio, Indiana, the southern portion of
Michigan, the southern part of Wisconsin, nearly the whole of the states
of Illinois and Iowa, and the northern portion of Missouri, gradually
passing--in the territories of Kansas and Nebraska--into that arid and
desert region known as The Plains, which lie at the base of the Rocky
Mountains.
The Grand Coteau de Missouri forms a natural boundary to these arid
plains. This vast table-land rises to the height of from 400 to 800
feet above the Missouri. Vegetation is very scanty; the Indian turnip,
however, is common, as is also a species of cactus. No tree or shrub is
seen; and only in the bottoms or in marshes is a rank herbage found.
Across these desert regions the trails of the emigrant bands passing to
the Far West have often been marked: first, in the east, by furniture
and goods abandoned; further west, by the waggons and carts of the
ill-starred travellers; then by the bones of oxen and horses bleaching
on the plain; and, finally, by the graves, and sometimes the unburied
bodies, of the emigrants themselves, the survivors having been compelled
to push onwards with the remnant of their cattle to a more fertile
region, where provender and water could be procured to restore their
well-nigh exhausted strength. Oftentimes they have been attacked by
bands of mounted Indians, whose war-whoop has startled them from their
slumbers at night; and they have been compelled to fight their way
onwards, day after day assailed by their savage and persevering foes.
Civilised man is, however, triumphant at last, and the steam-engine, on
its iron path, now traverses that wild region from east to west at rapid
speed; and the red men, who claim to be lords of the soil, have been
driven back into the more remote wilderness, or compelled to succumb to
the superior power of the invader, in many instances being utterly
exterminated. Still, north and south of that iron line the country
resembles a desert; and the wild Indian roams as of yore, like the Arab
of the East--his hand against every man, and every man's hand against
him.
Among the dangers to which the traveller across the prairie is exposed,
the most fearful is that of fire. The sky is bright overhead; the tall
grass, which has already assumed a yellow tinge from the heat of summer,
waves round him, affording abundant pasture to his steed. Suddenly his
guides rise in their stirrups and look anxiously towards the horizon.
He sees, perhaps, a white column of smoke rising in the clear air. It
is so far-off that it seems it can but little concern them. The guides,
however, think differently, and after a moment's consultation point
eagerly in the direction of some broad river, whose waters flow towards
the Mississippi. "Onward! onward!" is the cry. They put spurs to their
horses' flanks, and gallop for their lives. Every instant the column of
smoke increases in width, till it extends directly across the horizon.
It grows denser and denser. Now above the tall grass flashes of bright
light can be seen. The traveller almost fancies he can hear the
crackling of the flames as they seize all combustible substances in
their course. Now they surround a grove of aspens, and the fierce fire
blazes up more brightly than ever towards the sky, over which hangs a
dark canopy of smoke. Suddenly a distant tramp of feet is heard. The
very ground trembles. A dark mass approaches--a phalanx of horns and
streaming manes. It is a herd of buffaloes, turned by the fire
purposely ignited by the Indians. The guides urge the travellers to
increase their speed; for if overtaken by the maddened animals, they
will be struck down and trampled to death. Happily they escape the
surging herd which comes sweeping onward--thousands of dark forms
pressed together, utterly regardless of the human beings who have so
narrowly escaped them. The travellers gallop on till their eyes are
gladdened by the sight of the flowing waters of a river. They rush down
the bank. Perchance the stream is too rapid or too deep to be forded.
At the water's edge they at length dismount, when the Indians, drawing
forth flint and steel, set fire to the grass on the bank. The smoke
well-nigh stifles them, but the flames pass on, clearing an open space;
and now, crouching down to the water's edge, they see the fearful
conflagration rapidly approaching. The fire they have created meets the
flames which have been raging far and wide across the region. And now
the wind carries the smoke in dense masses over their heads; but their
lives are saved--and at length they may venture to ride along the banks,
over the still smouldering embers, till a ford is reached, and they may
cross the river to where the grass still flourishes in rich luxuriance.
While, on one side of the stream, charred trees are seen rising out of
the blackened ground, on the other all is green and smiling. These
fearful prairie fires, by which thousands of acres of grass and
numberless forests have been destroyed, are almost always caused by the
thoughtless Indians, either for the sake of turning the herds of
buffaloes towards the direction they desire them to take, or else for
signals made as a sign to distant allies. Sometimes travellers have
carelessly left a camp-fire still burning, when the wind has carried the
blazing embers to some portion of the surrounding dry herbage, and a
fearful conflagration has been the result.
Mr Paul Kane, the Canadian artist and traveller, mentions one which he
witnessed from Fort Edmonton. The wind was blowing a perfect hurricane
when the conflagration was seen sweeping over the prairie, across which
they had passed but a few hours before. The night was intensely dark,
adding effect to the brilliancy of the flames, and making the scene look
truly terrific. So fiercely did the flames rage, that at one time it
was feared the fire would cross the river to the side on which the fort
is situated, in which case it and all within must have been destroyed.
The inmates also had had many apprehensions for the safety of one of
their party, from whom, with his Indians, Mr Kane had parted some time
before, and who had not yet arrived. For three days they were uncertain
of his fate, when at length their anxiety was relieved by his
appearance. He had noticed the fire at a long distance, and had
immediately started for the nearest bend in the river. This, by great
exertion, he had reached in time to escape the flames, and had succeeded
in crossing.