tems of government.

Before these travelers, for instance, who paused here at the head
of the Ohio River, there lay the ancient dividing line between the
South and the North. To the northwest, between the Great Lakes and
the Ohio, swept a vast land which, since the days of the old
Northwest Ordinance of 1787, had by _national_ enactment been
decreed for ever free. Part of this had the second time been
declared free, by _state_ law also. To the eastward of this lay
certain states where slavery had been forbidden by the laws of the
several states, though not by that of the nation. Again, far out
to the West, beyond the great waterway on one of whose arms our
travelers now stood, lay the vast provinces bought from Napoleon;
and of these, all lying north of that compromise line of thirty-six
degrees, thirty minutes, agreed upon in 1820, had been declared for
ever free by _national_ law. Yet beyond this, in the extreme
northwest, lay Oregon, fought through as free soil by virtue of the
old Northwest Ordinance, the sleeping dog of slavery being evaded
and left to lie when the question of Oregon came up. Along the
Pacific, and south of Oregon, lay the new empire of California,
bitterly contended over by both sections, but by her own
self-elected _state_ law declared for ever free soil. Minnesota
and the Dakotas were still unorganized, so there the sleeping dog
might lie, of course.

To the south of that river on which our voyagers presently were to
take ship, lay a section comprising the southern states, in extent
far larger than all the northern states, and much stronger in
legislative total power in the national halls of Congress. Here
slavery was maintained by laws of the _states_ themselves. The
great realm of Texas, long coveted by the South, now was joined to
the ranks of the slave-holding states, by virtue of a war of
somewhat doubtful justice though of undoubted success. Above
Texas, and below the line of thirty-six degrees, thirty minutes,
lay a portion of what was known as the Indian country, where in
1820 there had been made no _prohibition_ of slavery by the
_national_ government.

Above the line of thirty-six degrees, thirty minutes, there thrust
up a portion of Texas which had no law at all, nor had it any until
a very recent day, being known under the title of "No Man's Land."
Yet on to the westward, toward free California, lay a vast but
supposedly valueless region where cotton surely would not g