A journey of 4000 miles from the Atlantic shore, regularly receding from the centre of civilized society to the extreme wilderness of Nature’s original work, and back again, opens a book for many an interesting tale to be sketched; and the mind which lives, but to relish the works of Nature, reaps a reward on such a tour of a much higher order than can arise from the selfish expectations of pecuniary emolument. Notwithstanding all that has been written and said, there is scarcely any subject on which the knowing people of the East, are yet less informed and instructed than on the character and amusements of the West: by this I mean the “Far West;”—the country whose fascinations spread a charm over the mind almost dangerous to civilized pursuits. Few people even know the true definition of the term “West;” and where is its location?—phantom-like it flies before us as we travel, and on our way is continually gilded, before us, as we approach the setting sun.
In the commencement of my Tour, several of my travelling companions from the city of New York, found themselves at a frightful distance to the West, when we arrived at Niagara Falls; and hastened back to amuse their friends with tales and scenes of the West. At Buffalo a steam-boat was landing with 400 passengers, and twelve days out—“Where from?” “From the West.” In the rich state of Ohio, hundreds were selling their farms and going—to the West. In the beautiful city of Cincinnati, people said to me, “Our town has passed the days of its most rapid growth, it is not far enough West.”—In St. Louis, 1400 miles west of New York, my landlady assured me that I would be pleased with her boarders, for they were nearly all merchants from the “West.” I there asked,—“Whence come those steam-boats, laden with pork, honey, hides, &c.?”
From the West.
Whence those ponderous bars of silver, which those men have been for hours shouldering and putting on board that boat?
They come from Santa Fee, from the West.
Where goes this steam-boat so richly laden with dry goods, steam-engines, &c.?
She goes to Jefferson city.
Jefferson city?—Where is that?
Far to the West.
And where goes that boat laden down to her gunnels, the Yellow Stone?