evening at
eight o'clock. At La Crosse we embarked on the steamer _Milwaukee_ for
St. Paul's. These large flat-bottomed steamers are quite an institution
on these western rivers. Drawing but a few inches of water, they glide
over sandbars where the water is very shallow, and, swinging in against
the shore, land and receive passengers and freight where wharves are
unknown, or where, if they existed, they would be liable to be swept
away in the great spring freshets.

The scenery in many places along the upper Mississippi is very fine.
High bold bluffs rise up in wondrous variety and picturesque beauty. In
some places they are composed of naked rock. Others are covered to
their very summit with the richest green. Here, a few years ago, the
war-whoop of the Indians sounded, and the buffalo swarmed around these
Buttes, and quenched their thirst in these waters. Now the shrill
whistle of the steamer disturbs the solitudes, and echoes and re-echoes
with wondrous distinctness among the high bluffs and fertile vales.

"Westward the Star of Empire takes its way."

We arrived at St. Paul's on Thursday forenoon and found it to be a
stirring city, beautifully situated on the eastern side of the
Mississippi. We had several hours of good hard work in getting our
caravan in order, purchasing supplies, and making all final arrangements
for the long journey that was before us. For beyond this the iron horse
had not yet penetrated, and the great surging waves of immigration,
which soon after rolled over into those fertile territories, had as yet
been only little ripples.

Our splendid horses, which had been cooped up in the holds of vessels,
or cramped up in uncomfortable freight cars, were now to have an
opportunity for exercising their limbs, and showing of what mettle they
were made. At 4 PM we filed out of the city. The recollection of that
first ride on the prairie will live on as long as memory holds her
throne. The day was one of those gloriously perfect ones that are but
rarely given us, as if to show what earth must have been before the
Fall. The sky, the air, the landscape--everything seemed in such
harmony and so perfect, that involuntarily I exclaimed, "If God's
footstool is so glorious, what will the throne be?"

We journeyed a few miles, then encamped for the night. We were all in
the best of spirits, and seemed to rejoice that we were getting away
from civilisation, and more and more out into the wild