THE WESTERN PRAIRIES. 347 



nourishment and other plants, whose blue, and yellow, 

 and red, and white flowers enamel the uncultivated sward. 

 These oceans of verdure, whose grassy growth is some- 

 times five feet high, roll in the wind like a billowy sea. 



Nothing is more various, nothing more interesting, than 

 the prairie flora. Intermingling in rich profusion, the 

 naturalist finds euphorbias and lilies, some with white 

 petals streaked with black and red, others with a purple 

 calyx and a scarlet lip. Here bloom flowers of a thou- 

 sand exquisite hues ; there rise tall reeds, crowned with 

 yellowish tufts. About these innumerable blossoms in- 

 numerable butterflies gaily hover, and myriads of bees 

 come from every side to gather their nectared sweets. 



Yet, imposing as may be the aspect of the prairies, one 

 cannot prevent an emotion of dread as one contemplates 

 their boundlessness : not a tree, not a mountain breaks 

 the monotony of their limitless horizon ; the sky itself 

 affects a gray, monotonous tint, except when it is heavy 

 with great clouds, which burst in terrific hurricanes five 

 days in the week, sweeping away everything which 

 attempts to resist their course. The wind roars like a 

 gale in the North Sea ; and in winter a fine icy snow 

 takes the place of rain, and covers the ground with a 

 spotless shroud. 



In these regions, so verdurous and fresh for three parts 

 of the year, bisons, stags, and wild horses wander in 

 numerous troops. Thither repair the tribes of the Red- 

 skins, who divide among themselves this vast hunting- 

 ground. The Osages, the Delawares, the Creeks, the 

 Cherokees, and some other tribes, there meet together, 

 tribes who have become somewhat softened in their 

 manners by contact with civilization. There also the 



