In North- West Canada. 173 



fertile land untenanted. At some seasons of the year it does 

 not look particularly inviting, but, no matter what the month, 

 the first sight of the prairie makes an impression as profound 

 as the first sight of the ocean. Each season has its distinctive 

 livery. When the warm sun of early April has licked up the 

 snow, the dead grasses of the old year look bleached and flat- 

 tened out by the storms of winter and the rain. If fires have 

 swept over the prairie in the autumn, a uniform rusty brown 

 is seen in the spring, as far as the eye can reach. At this sea- 

 son, where the soil is high and light, or where sandy ridges 

 occur, the anemone patens, the first flower of the prairie, shows 

 to the sun its pale blue, delicate white, or rich purple tints. The 

 joy with which this harbinger of spring is welcomed by those 

 who have seen no signs of life in garden or field for six long 

 months can hardly be exaggerated. It blooms amid the snows. 

 It flowers before its own leaves appear to live. Soon a tender 

 green begins to flush the boundless prairie. As spring advances, 

 the grasses and plants gather strength. The prairie becomes 

 a sea of green, flecked with parti-coloured grasses, and an 

 infinite variety of flowering plants. The atmosphere, balmy 

 and flower-scented, is also so charged with electricity that the 

 blood courses through the veins under the perpetual influence 

 of a stimulant that brings no lassitude in its train. Sum- 

 mer comes crowded — or rather covered with roses. The travel- 

 ler across the prairies walks on roses and sleeps on roses. By 

 the end of June the air is laden with their perfume. These are 

 followed by an innumerable variety of asters, solidagos, and 

 the golden coriopsis. But the ripe glories of the year are re- 

 served for the season when sunnner merges into autumn. The 

 tints of the woods in the older provinces are left behind by the 

 gorgeousness and wealth of the prairies' colours. The reddish 

 hue of the poas and other wild grasses, the salmon-colour of the 

 sedges, the yellow of the bunch buftalo and blue-joint grass, 

 the deep green of the vetches, the saftron-coloured reeds, the 

 red, white, blue and yellow of the rich autumn flowers blend 

 their beauties in a marvellous picture. As autumn advances 

 the grasses take a lighter hue. They are dying. One by one 



