[Illustration:
No. 666.
THE FALLS OF MINNEHAHA.]
WHAT NORMAN SAW IN THE WEST.
by the Author of
“Four Days in July,” and “A Winter at Woodlawn.”
“Much is my life enriched by the images of the great Niagara, of the
vast lakes, and of the heavenly sweetness of the prairie
scenes.”—MARGARET FULLER.
Eight Illustrations.
New York:
Published by Carlton & Porter,
Sunday-School Union, 200 Mulberry-Street.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859,
by Carlton & Porter,
in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the Southern District of
New-York.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. ON THE RAILWAY 9
II. TWO DAYS AT NIAGARA 17
III. CHILDREN MADE HAPPY 27
IV. THE QUEEN CITY OF THE LAKE 40
V. ON THE ROCK RIVER 54
VI. INDIAN STORIES 65
VII. SECOND DAY UPON THE MISSISSIPPI 87
VIII. OWAH-MENAH; OR THE FALLING WATER 100
IX. DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI 115
X. FOURTH DAY UPON THE MISSISSIPPI 124
XI. A SUNDAY IN DUBUQUE 134
XII. DOWN THE RIVER 138
XIII. THE PICNIC 151
XIV. THE CAMP-MEETING 158
XV. A SABBATH-DAY 168
XVI. ON THE RAIL 178
XVII. THE PRAIRIES 190
XVIII. CHICAGO, AND THE RIDE THITHER 202
XIX. ON THE LAKES 208
XX. MACKINAW AND LAKE HURON 218
XXI. COLLINGWOOD 240
XXII. A SUNDAY IN TORONTO 247
XXIII. ONCE MORE AT NIAGARA 255
XXIV. HOME AGAIN 263
Illustrations.
PAGE
FALLS OF MINNEHAHA 2
NEW YORK CITY 12
PRAIRIE DU CHIEN 73
INDIANS KILLING A WHITE FAMILY 79
MAIDEN’S ROCK 93
FALLS OF ST. ANTHONY 103
WESTERN SETTLER’S FIRST HOME 175
COMMON GULL 237
WHAT NORMAN SAW
IN
THE WEST.
CHAPTER I.
ON THE RAILWAY.
“The black steam-engine! steed of iron power;
The wondrous steed of the Arabian tale,
Launched on its course by pressure of a touch;
Ha! ha! it shouts, as on
It gallops, dragging in its tireless path,
Its load of fire.”
“How still Broadway looks so early in the morning,” said Norman Lester
to his mother, as they drove down the street to take the early train.
It was an unusual sight, the long vista of the beautiful street in deep
shadow, peaceful and calm as if it knew no trampling footsteps nor
jostling vehicles. It was just waking up from its brief hour of repose.
Here and there a market cart, laden with vegetables, was jogging
leisurely on, then a carriage with travelers and trunks hastened onward.
A few waiters were standing at the doors of the hotels to speed the
parting guests, and pedestrians not ignorant of sunrise and its demands
were walking on the broad pavement. Soon the swelling tide of life would
rush through this great channel; the anxious, earnest brow, the sad and
troubled countenances; light and trifling, and bright and joyous faces,
would all be borne down that mighty stream. Business and pleasure,
noise, and hurry, and confusion would come, as the ascending sun chased
away the shadows of the great thoroughfare, and with them its brief
repose.
Norman’s thoughts went beyond Broadway and its contrast.
[Illustration:
No. 666.
NEW YORK CITY]
“I have actually set out on my journey to the West to see my uncle, a
journey I have been thinking of for two or three years. How I wish you
were going with us, Edward,” he said to his tall cousin, whose manliness
Norman greatly admired.
“You are to be your mother’s escort to-day, Norman,” replied Edward; “I
hope you will take good care of her. You are tall enough to make quite a
respectable escort, but I have my doubts as to your care and
thoughtfulness. I think you are rather a heedless boy, but I hope you
will come back greatly improved.”
“There is no saying,” said Norman, “what this journey may do for me.”
“We shall see; but here we are at the depôt,” was Edward’s reply.
The ferry was crossed, some oranges bought to quiet the noisy demands of
the orange woman, seats secured, good-by said to Edward, and Norman and
his mother were fairly off for a few days ride on the Erie Railroad to
Niagara.
How that terrible, untiring iron horse bore them on; how rapidly was the
panorama of wood and plain, of rock, river, and valley, unrolled before
them; how he snorted and panted, and shot onward, after a short pause
now and then to refresh the mighty giant.
“A little water, and a grasp
Of wood sufficient for its nerves of steel.”
The shifting landscape looked very lovely in the softened lights of that
pleasant June day. The tender green of the foliage, orchards in full
bloom, neat farm-houses, glimpses of the river Passaic, and their noble
views of a beautiful valley, in the midst of which rose the spires of
Port Jervis, lying prettily among the hills, were presented to the eye
and as rapidly withdrawn. Then the scenery became more wild as the train
rushed along the high embankment, following the course of the Delaware,
and looking down upon its rapid waters. It is a wild, rugged region;
huge trees, great prostrate trunks, scarred and blackened trophies of
the progress of the advancing settler wrestling with his gigantic foes;
log-cabins surrounded by unsightly clearings marred with frequent
stumps; fields of wheat struggling for existence in the scanty soil;
fantastical fences formed of twisted, gnarled, antler-like roots. A most
picturesque region, which might, however, call forth the comment of the
sturdy Sussex farmer: “_Picturesque!_ I don’t know what you call
picturesque; but I say, give me a soil that when you turn it up you have
something for your pains; the fine soil makes the fine country, madam.”
Norman looked with astonishment on the lofty and massive arches of the
bridges over which the railroad crosses the valley, and had a glimpse of
the water leaping down the ravine at Cascade Bridge. A number of men
were working there on the steep sandy sides of the cliff, that seemed to
afford them a most perilous footing.
One noble view he had of the Susquehanna with its islands; and then, as
they changed cars at Elmira, the rain obscured the lake and the fine
country on their way northward to Niagara.