After that explanation of a “busted-up” and “gone-on” city, I was of course sufficiently well “posted” not to require further explanation as to the fate of Pine and Rush Cities; but had I entertained any doubts upon the subject, the final stoppage of the train at Moose Lake, or City, would have effectually dispelled them.  For there stood the portions of Rush and Pine Cities which had not “bust up,” but had simply “gone on.”  Two shanties, with a few outlying sheds, stood on either side of the track, which here crossed a clear running forest stream.  Passenger communication ended at this point; the rails were laid down for a distance of eight miles farther, but only the “construction train,” with supplies, men, etc. proceeded to that point.  Track-laying was going on at the rate of three miles a day, I was informed, and the line would soon be opened to the Dalles of the St. Louis River, near the hecad of Lake Superior.  The heat all day had been very great, and it was refreshing to get out of the dusty car, even though the shanties, in which eating, drinking, and sleeping were supposed to be carried on, were of the very lowest description.  I had made the acquaintance of the express agent, a gentleman connected with the baggage department of the train, and during the journey he had taken me somewhat into his confidence on the matter of the lodging and entertainment which were to be found in the shanties.  “The food ain’t bad,” he said, “but that there shanty of Tom’s licks creation for bugs.”  This terse and forcibly expressed opinion made me select the interior of a wagon, and some fresh hay, as a place of rest, where, in spite of vast numbers of mosquitoes, I slept the sleep of the weary.

The construction train started from Moose City at six o’clock a.m., and as the stage, which was supposed to connect with the passenger train and carry forward its human freight to Superior City was filled to overflowing, I determined to take advantage of the construction train, and travel on it as far as it would take me.  A very motley group of lumberers, navvies, and speculators assembled for breakfast at five o’clock a.m. at Tom’s table, and although I cannot quite confirm the favourable opinion of my friend the express agent as to the quality of the viands which graced it, I can at least testify to the vigour with which the “guests” disposed of the pork and beans, the molasses and dried apples which Tom, with foul fingers, had set before them.  Seated on the floor of a waggon in the construction train, in the midst of navvies of all countries and ages, I reached the end of the track while the morning sun was yet low in the east.  I had struck up a kind of partnership for the journey with a pedlar Jew and an Ohio man, both going to Duluth, and as we had a march of eighteen miles to get through between the end of the track and the town of Fond-du-Lac, it became necessary to push on before the sun had reached his midday level; so, shouldering our baggage,