222 BUFFALO LAND. 



mind in that land of cotton, and was unprepared for 

 the northern air. 



' Gentlemen" this was what the voice said " we 

 are now one thousand and five hundred miles from 

 Washington City, latitude 39, longitude 99. Stick a 

 pin there on the map, and you will find that we have 

 got well out on the spot that geographers have been 

 pleased to call desert. Does it look like one? Tell 

 me, gentlemen, had you rather discount your man- 

 hood among the stumps of New England than loan 

 it at a premium to the rich banks of these streams ?" 



The Professor came to an abrupt pause, for borne 

 to us on the still air was that most unmistakable of 

 all sounds, the Irtiman voice. The note of one bird 

 at a distance may be mistaken for another, and the 

 cry of a brute, when faintly heard, lose its distinguish- 

 ing tones. But once let man lift up his voice in the 

 solitude, and all nature knows that the lord of ani- 

 mal creation is abroad. There are many sounds 

 which resemble the human voice, just as there are 

 many objects which, indistinctly seen, the hunter's 

 eye may misinterpret as birds. But when a flock of 

 birds does cross his vision, however far away, he 

 never mistakes them for any thing else. The first 

 may have excited suspicion, the latter resolves at 

 once into certainty. 



We listened attentively and anxiously. It might 

 very naturally be supposed that, after leaving the 

 abodes of his fellows, and going far out into the soli- 

 tary places of Nature, man would rejoice to catch the 

 sounds which told him that others of his race were 

 near, but this, like many other things, is modified by 



