“July 8.  Prairie swelling with ridges; descend to the Shayenne, which flows some one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet below the prairie by a steep hill; camp in the bottom of the river; wood and water good; grass rather poor; the bottom of the Shayenne, some half a mile wide, is often soft and miry, but when crossed by the train firm and dry.

“July 9.  Cross the Shayenne, fifty feet wide, three and a half feet deep; immediate banks some ten feet high, and requiring some digging to give passage to the wagons.

“Prairie with swelling ridges and occasional marshes to camp, to a slough affording water and grass; no wood; buffalo very abundant.

“July 10.  Prairie swelling into ridges and hills, with a frequency of marshes, ponds, and sloughs; camp at a pretty lake, near Lake Jessie; fairly wooded, with water slightly saline; grass scanty, having been consumed by the buffalo.  Prairies covered with buffalo.”

I take this valuable sketch of the natural features of the country from volume 1 of Explorations and Surveys for the Pacific Railroad (page 353-356); for which I am indebted to the learned Secretary of War.

LETTER XV.

 St. Cloud to st. Paul.

Importance of starting early—­ Judge Story’s theory of early rising—­ Rustic scenery—­ Horses and mules—­ Surveyors—­ Humboldt—­ Baked fish—­ Getting off the track—­ Burning of hay stacks—­ Supper at St. Anthony—­ Arrival at the Fuller House.

St. Paul, October, 1856.

I was up by the gray dawn of the morning of yesterday, and after an early but excellent breakfast, crossed the river from St. Cloud, in order to meet the stage at Sauk Rapids.  As we came up on the main road, the sight of a freshly made rut, of stage-wheel size, caused rather a disquieting apprehension that the stage had passed.  But my nerves were soon quieted by the assurance from an early hunter, who was near by shooting prairie chickens while they were yet on the roost, that the stage had not yet come.  So we kept on to the spacious store where the post office is kept; where I waited and waited for the stage to come which was to bring me to St. Paul.  It did not arrive till eight o’clock.  I thought if every one who had a part to perform in starting off the stage from Watab (for it had started out from there that morning), was obliged to make the entire journey of 80 miles to St. Paul in the stage, they would prefer to get up a little earlier rather than have the last part of the trip extended into “the dead waist and middle of the night.”  I remarked to the driver, who is a very clever young man, that the stage which left St. Paul started as early as five o’clock, and I could not see why it was not as necessary to start as early in going down, inasmuch as the earlier we started the less of the night darkness we had to travel in.  He perfectly