250 FOX-HOUND, FOREST, AND PRAIRIE. 



sportsman he was, clad in a brown cotton cloth suit, suited 

 to woods and weather, while I was arrayed in cockneydom's 

 gayest tweed having ample and snowy cuffs protruding from, 

 and stiffly starched collar surmounting, an attire that wholly 

 precluded an}- possible presumption of sporting proclivities. 

 It is not many years since I nearly drew the contents of a 

 Winchester upon me by means of similar incongruity of cos- 

 tume. Descending direct from civilisation and a trans-Con- 

 tinental train, I struck 200 miles across the prairie to seek 

 an outlying ranche with a view to stock buying ; and on nearing 

 it called suddenly at a solitary cabin to enquire the way. 

 The noble proprietor saw us coming, made sure that no one 

 but the sheriff and his men would be abroad on the prairie 

 wearing " biled rags," ran for his gun, and a moment later 

 was covering us through the half closed door ! 



For company when after the roebuck I had been fortunate 

 enough to secure the society of a young German friend, who, 

 besides breaking up the tete-a-tete between myself and my 

 guide and counsellor (with whom the only means of direct 

 communication one with another would have been French of 

 the most indifferent quality) was able to extract information 

 from the old man's not very discursive lips in answer to 

 various queries as to the country and its game resources. 



The drive of ten or a dozen miles was not altogether un- 

 interesting. Harvest was in full swing; and the method of 

 farming and manner of harvesting were both to be studied. 

 Peasant-proprietorship is the system of the Duchy of Baden ; 

 and apparently satisfactory enough in its working. Poverty 

 and distress are almost unknown, and the land is farmed to the 

 best purpose each man with his household cultivating no 

 more than he and they can manage properly. Be it re- 

 membered, however, that these are industrious and frugal 

 Germans, and that this is some of the most fruitful soil in 

 Germany. They put not too many eggs in one basket, these 

 careful Teutons. On their holdings a strip of wheat runs along- 

 side an acre of potatoes ; half a dozen rows of hops grow side by 



