1890.] PUBLIC DOCUMENT — No. 4. 83 



on the surface ; what frost is below that can thaw when it 

 gets ready, — the wheat will grow." "I don't find any 

 fault with the climate ; it's good if you like it ; and when 

 you fellows down East are shivering around in your winter 

 fogs, you can come out here and get warm, however low the 

 thermometer is." "Yes; shall finish threshing to-morrow, 

 and the next day the men will go to burning the straw ; and 

 the teams, four mules and driver and a two-plough gang, 

 will commence ploughing at that line, and go straight away 

 yonder four miles across the four sections and back ; and 

 they will alternate, traveling sixteen miles one day and 

 twenty-four the next, and will keep it up until the ground 

 freezes." We thanked the man for his time and information, 

 and turned away with the impression that we had seen only 

 the best side, the outside, the glossed side of the afiair. 

 As we did so, he called after us, " Say, you, if you ever 

 go round old Connecticut way, salute it for me ; for I call 

 it home, and the old folks are there yet." 



Now we find ourselves well up the Little Missouri River, 

 in the Bad Lands of Western Dakota. AVinding and twist- 

 ing our way along for many a weary mile among the clay 

 buttes, the scene constantly wilder and more forbidding, a 

 sudden turn of the trail brings us face to face with a typical 

 cow-boy. He is mounted on a thin-necked, sharp-eared, 

 bright-eyed, restless broncho. Hanging in a case at the 

 horn of his saddle is a Winchester rifle ; on his right hip a 

 heavy revolver, and a large hunting knife in its case on the 

 left ; around his person two leather belts filled with car- 

 tridges, one for the rifle, one for the revolver; moccasins 

 on his feet ; leather leggins ; a brown corduroy coat and a 

 brown felt hat large enough for an umbrella ; his face is 

 bearded and browned ; he looks the bandit (and here is 

 where such roam uncaught), and you almost expect to 

 hear the order, " Stand and hold up." To the inquiry, 

 " Does this trail lead to Mr. C.'s ranch?" came the answer, 

 in a bright, cheery voice, as his countenance lighted up with 

 a smile, "No; here you are, and yonder is the shack." 

 "Are you Mr. C. ? " "I am, and am glad to see you." 

 " Well, you look like a galloping arsenal. What do you 

 load yourself down with all that artillery for ? " " It is 



