36 THEORY RELATIVE TO THE PRAIRIES. 



The bottom upon the south bank is between three and four miles broad, 

 and of a hght, deep, and rich soil, occasionally sandy, but covered with thick 

 and lusty vegetation. Back from the valley, ranges of broken sand-hills 

 mark the transition to the high arid prairies in the rear, where vegetation 

 becomes more dwarfish and stinted in its growth, and is intermingled with 

 frequent cacti. 



These immense plains are generally clad with a short, curly grass, (the 

 buffalo grass,) very fine and nutritious, and well adapted to the sustenance 

 of the countless herds of buffalo and other wild animals that feed upon it. 

 Their soil is generally of a thin vegetable mould, upon a substratum of 

 indurated sand and gravel. 



In many places it is quite sterile, producing little other than sand-burrs 

 and a specimen of thin, coarse grass, that sadly fail to conceal its forbidding 

 surface ; in others, it is but little better than a desert waste of sand-hills, 

 or white sun-baked clay, so hard and impervious that neither herb nor grass 

 can take root to grow upon it ; and in others, it presents a light superfice, 

 both rich and productive, beclad with all that can beautify and adorn a 

 wilderness of verdure. 



The springs and streams of water are " few and far between," — an evil, 

 however, slightly atoned for by the occasional pools formed in favoring de- 

 pressions during the rainy season, which are retained in their places by the 

 extreme hardness of the soil. Were it not for these it would be almost 

 impossible, in many directions, to travel the vast prairies lying between 

 the Arkansas and Missouri, from long. 22^ 30' west from Washington to 

 the Rocky Mountains. That this section of country should ever become 

 inhabited by civilized man, to any extent, except in the vicinity of large 

 water-courses, is an idea too preposterous to be entertained for a single 

 moment. 



As the reader is now inducted to the grand prairie as it is, it may not be 

 amiss to say something relative to this phenomenon, before dismissing the 

 subject in hand. 



The steppes of Asia, the pampas of South America, and the prairies of 

 the great West, so far as my information extends, are possessed of one 

 general and uniform character. There is something deeply mysterious 

 associated with them, that puzzles the philosopher and cosmogonist to ex- 

 plain. Why is it neither timber nor shrubs, as a general thing, are found 

 within their confines ? Why have not the same causes operated here 

 which produced the stately forests of other regions ? 



The above questions are often asked, and as often answered ; but never 

 satisfactorily. 



Some respond by a reference to their frequent burnings, — others to 

 some chemical defect in their soil, — others, to the disgeniality of their 

 climate, — others, to their inlecund aridity, — and yet, others, to the sup- 

 position that some operation of nature or art has efTected the destruction 

 of quondam forests, and reduced them to their present condition. 



Each of these answers, though, doubtless, partially true in many re- 

 spects, fails to solve the problem before us. 



Here we have, in many places, almost measureless extents of fertile 

 soil, moist and abundantly watered, by rains, springs, and ever-flowing 

 streams, with all the desiderata for the producing of trees, — and what 



