It was only with great effort that we found our way over the rough prairie and unbridged streams, in which we often stuck. The country looks as if God had carefully made the hills to order, and then fitted them together as closely as he could; and heavy rains falling here all run down the hills into the valleys, which are usually very soft, and many times the water stands very deep in them. There was one time (and which I shall not soon forget) that we came to a slough about fifty yards wide. We could tell by its look that it was a bad crossing, and as far as we could see either way, it appeared the same. So, seeing several old wagon tracks through it, we pushed in. Starting in lively, we managed to get about half way, when the wagon was in to the hub and the mud so stiff that the horses could get no further. There we were in the middle of a slough between the hills of Iowa, and the prospect of our being anywhere else for some time about as limited as a boy’s show for victory in a fight with a red-headed school-marm. You may all talk of wisdom, but I will bet a million if Solomon himself had been there, he would have stood out upon the bank and said, “Boys, you are in a worse fix than five hundred wives have ever been able to put me.” But after about exhausting our ingenuity, we at length unhitched our horses and took them across. Tying a long rope to the end of the tongue, we hitched the team to it and pulled the wagon on a lock. Unluckily for me, I had the appearance of being the best wheel-horse in the crowd; and though I coughed and told the boys that getting into the mud and over exerting myself would certainly be the cause of my death, they still insisted. Just then finding that they too were consumptive, and limping with pain in every joint, I consented to take my chances; and after preparing for the occasion like any person would in such circumstances, where clothes were scarce and no one near, I waded into the doughy sea. I held the wheel from going back, while Johnny pulled the wagon on a lock on my side. I would then draw myself up out of the mud, take a few long breaths, and after touching up my will-power with a little Iowa bog-sirup that we had along, go to the other side. We worked thus from left to right, moving a foot at a time; and at length, when the bottle could have been broken without wasting much sirup, we once more stood upon terra firma. We had often heard of the valley of the shadow of death, and right then and there concluded that if that was not it, it must be a fork of it, and if we found that it reached from the north to the south, we would go by the way of the gulf on our return. However, after washing our horses all over, and trimming ourselves up to once more look like white men, we felt a little more experienced and none the worse. We were about ready to start again when we caught sight of a middle-aged Dutch-woman, with two little mules to a spring-wagon, and a great coop of chickens, bearing down the hill-side to the same mud-hole. Willing to lend our experience, especially to a lady, we most politely spoke to her; but she paid no more attention than if a prairie-dog had barked at the road-side. Well, thought we, it is a nice thing to be independent; but that mud-hole may bother you some, and may be the means of our becoming intimately acquainted. Sure enough, when she got to about where we stuck, the little mules gave out and one of them lay down. You may all talk of whoops and halloos, but the yell of the rebels, the groans of the dying, and the thundering of the cannon at the battle of Stone River, were not to be compared to the shouts of that Dutch-woman in the midst of the Iowa bog. Nevertheless, neither the angry countenance nor the force of the brawny arm had any effect upon the little mule, which, like Job, had determined to take it patiently. If you could have seen the unearthly smile upon her face as she looked back to us and yelled, “Coom,” you would have been surprised at the great change one mud-hole and one Dutch-woman can bring about. Wading in to where the little Job lay prostrate, I took hold of his bridle and gave him a kick in the ribs and an English yell; and doubtless never having heard an English word in his life, it apparently frightened him so that he forgot all about the mud-hole. The last we saw of the Dutch-woman she was going over the brow of a hill, sitting upon the back of her neck, screaming in the key of E, the old chicken-coop tossing, the chickens squalling, and the little mules down to a mile a minute. If it had not been for that ugly bog to cross we would have looked after that outfit; for the way that coop was bobbing it might have fallen out, and the poor chickens would have starved, for she never could stop the mules; and you know if we had found them we would have fed them. This was one more lesson of experience, and we started on.
A few hours’ travel brought us into the little village of Lewis; and the next day being the Fourth of July, we concluded to stay over and have some fun. We enjoyed ourselves very well; and as the end of the gala day drew nigh, people found that we were travelers and gathered around us to trade horses. Well, we had one horse that wanted to stop very often when we were in a great hurry, and having given us a great deal of trouble, we concluded to cheat somebody to get even with Iowa any how. Of course we showed quite an unwillingness to trade; but when a fellow brought a fine young-looking horse around and warranted him safe and sound, and to work any place, we traded, thinking there was no harm in cheating a man when he proposed the trade. We swapped even, and he throwing a saddle upon his new horse was soon out of sight. Proudly we buckled the harness upon ours, and everything being ready I drew up the lines to start, when behold! like the wife of Lot, his action had all vanished and he stood as immovable as Pike’s Peak. He was worse than the other one, for she would go when the wagon was started, but this one refused to go if you just stood him before the wagon without harness on. Then we pulled the wagon out of town with one horse and camped for the night. Of course we got him with a warranty, but where in the thunder was the warrantor? All had vanished. Many persons came around with old plugs, thinking that of course we would trade for anything that would pull. We told them he was the kind of a horse we wanted, and in the morning we would show them something.
Morning came, and putting the harness on him we put up the traces and tied his tail to the single-tree, when, to the surprise of all, he started off, pulling the whole wagon, the other horse, and all. The horse-traders swore the like was never seen in Iowa; and they looked after us with wonder until we were over the hill. We were delighted with our success, and all went along smoothly until we got about five miles from town and came to a bridge where the dirt was washed away from each side; and the wheel striking this, he balked on the tail. We knew he had good shoulders, and he had shown us that he had a noble tail; and to refuse to use either was an insult to us, and we set about to use compulsion. It was not long, however, before the tongue was cracked and both single-trees broken, and the battle just begun. John went back to town to get the breaks mended, and Johnny and myself set to work in earnest. We had used kind words and coaxed him, all to no purpose; for as long as you were friendly he was as gentle as a lamb, but as soon as you wanted to make him work he considered our friendship at an end. So we took him from the wagon and tied up one foot and put on throw-ropes and hitched him to a bush. Of course he refused to go, and every time he refused we pulled him down. When he pulled one bush, we put on another. We had seen bad horses, and we had heard of the devil, and we concluded that he was one fourth bad horse and three fourths devil. We worked hard until late in the afternoon before he would pull his part of the spring-wagon. Just as he was beginning to work two men came along, going east. They had a good two-horse wagon, and we traded. We now had a good, stout wagon, and the next morning, after a little squabble, we had no more trouble, and the buckskin mustang was conquered. Our experience was such as to make us tired of Iowa, and after determining never to cheat another western man out of a horse, even if he did name his own terms, we rapidly pushed on until we stood in the streets of Council Bluffs. This is a neat, pretty little town, located near the bank of the great Missouri, and among the bluffs that rise mountain high. It received its name from the council held there in the year 1804 by Lewis and Clark, United States explorers, to decide upon the best method of avoiding the Indian dangers. Having wended our way down to the river-side, we stood upon the bank of the muddiest stream that washes the soil of the Union. There being no wagon-bridge here, we were obliged to take passage to the opposite bank upon the train and over the great railroad bridge, which the Indian chief said looked like a “much big spider-web.”
CHAPTER II.
Omaha—Homestead Land—Coming Onto the Plains—Cold Winds—Platte Valley—Republican Forks—Fort Wallace—Big Sandy—Old Battle-Ground—Arkansas Valley—Irrigation Farming.
The great emigrant land of which we had heard so much had at last been reached, and the din from the streets of the great western exchange was borne to our ears upon the evening breeze. Omaha is built upon the side of a large hill, and is quite a pretty place; and being the wholesale city for many miles of the surrounding country, business is lively, and the people say hard times never reach them. We could but wonder, as we gazed upon these two cities, perched as they are upon hill-sides upon opposite sides of the river, and covering the surface which was so lately the rich pasture-land of the wild prairie animal. Truly, said we to ourselves, there must be some virtue in the surrounding country which supports these rapidly-growing cities.
Eager to learn the true merits of the homestead land, we pushed boldly into the country, with eyes keen to see the advantages and disadvantages of the great, historical, poor man’s home. Proceeding but a few miles from the river-banks we opened into the land of promise. Here lay a broad, rolling, and fertile prairie, all covered with richest vegetation and well watered in all directions. Timber had entirely disappeared, except the pretty little cotton-woods which gilded the banks of most all the little streams. Many homesteads have been taken up here, and the little sod-houses which dot the country in all directions mark the abodes of the settlers. Timber being very dear, the country is not incumbered with fences, and the dark, rich surface being as beautiful as any the sun ever shone upon, the scene, upon the whole, was truly impressive. A great deal of the sod has been broken, and the rich, golden grain that waves in the western wind speaks the great strength of the soil. All the latest improved farming implements are used here, and tilling and sowing those large, clear fields is perfectly delightful. Lands along the railroads are being rapidly improved, and ere long the eastern and southern parts of Kansas and eastern Nebraska will find a place upon the first pages of the agricultural history of America.
Many poor families from the overthronged East have found themselves fine homes here, and from the rapid growth of the country they are promised great wealth. The eastern part of Kansas being of the same nature as that just described, we simply remark that the voice of the pen is too feeble to do justice to so beautiful a country.
Kansas and Nebraska are included in what Fremont termed the “Great American Desert,” in the year 1842; and the settlers say that even as late as ten years ago places that are now productive were barren and sandy. It appears that the more farming there is done there the greater the dampness becomes; and they now have plenty of rain where everything used to parch. Some think the whole western plains will at some day become productive; but more of that hereafter.
Game is quite abundant here, and the prairie-chickens often fly up in such great flocks that the hum of their wings sounds like thunder. They fly very swiftly. Here the first jack rabbit showed himself to us, and upon our giving chase we were greatly surprised at his sudden disappearance with only a light streak through the air to mark the course he had taken. They are about four times as large as the cotton-tails, and have ears about five inches long. We had a great deal of sport at hunting, and spent many days wandering up and down this beautiful country, visiting the settlers in their humble homes, and conversing with them of olden times and their experiences in the settling of a new country. They were very hospitable, and though a little sod-house and stable, with grass growing green upon every part but the doors and windows, sitting out alone upon the wide prairie, without a fence and often without a tree to shelter them from the broiling summer’s sun, usually constitute their homes, they are nevertheless happy, and say that though their accommodations and conveniences are very limited, and they do not get a high price for their produce, their crops are usually abundant, and they can live off of this until things can develop. It has been discovered by trial that timber grows very rapidly, and whole acres of little walnut and cotton-wood sprouts lately planted promise that at some time in the future there will be some pretty forests here. When this is the case, the birds will immigrate here, the insect tribe—such a pest to the country—will diminish, and the settlers will sit in their doors in the thick, beautiful shade, and listen to the songs that are sung in the green foliage. As it is, the flies are very troublesome through the day, and at night you are compelled to build a smudge and sit in the smoke to keep the mosquitoes from carrying you off.