212 THE " MAUVAISES-TERRES " OF NEBRASKA. 



covered with long rank grass of tender green, and lighted up by 

 flowers of the liliaceous kind which scent the air with fragrance. 

 Here and there, in the north, occur clumps of oak and black walnut: 

 in the south, groups of tulip, and cotton, and magnolia trees. Occa- 

 sionally the monotonous scene is relieved by a lazy brook, whose 

 banks bloom with a brilliant mass of azaleas, kalmias, rhododendrons, 

 and andromedas ; the low howl of the cayeute, or prairie dog, breaks 

 the silence ; and life is given to the landscape by the frequent appear- 

 ance of herds of bison, deer, and wild horses. At times, in the 

 remote districts, the prairie wolves will be seen in some leafy covert 

 awaiting the approach of a victim ; or flights of birds darken the air, 

 and tempt the traveller with the promise of an abundant provision. 



On the right bank of the Missouri, and on the borders of the White 

 River, in the territory of Nebraska, lies a dreary desert valley, some 

 30 feet deep, which the French expressively designate les Mauvaises- 

 Terres. It may be doubted whether the whole world offers a stranger 

 or a more impressive landscape. Here geology recognizes the vestiges of 

 an astonishing diluviaD labour, and it is impossible to venture a step 

 without striking one's foot against the fossil relics of vanished animals. 



It is a kind of world apart, says an American writer ; a large 

 valley which seems to have been excavated, in the first place, by an 

 immense vertical out-throw, and then modelled by the prolonged and 

 incessant action of denu dating agents. With a mean breadth of 28, 

 and a total length of 90 miles, it develops itself in a westerly direction, 

 at the foot of the sombre mountain-chain known as the Black Hills. 

 On issuing from the immense, uniform, and monotonous prairie, the 

 traveller finds himself suddenly transported, after a descent of 100 to 

 200 feet, into a depression of the soil where rise a myriad of abrupt 

 rocks, irregular or prismatic, or like columns dressed with enormous 

 pyramids, and from 110 to 220 feet in height. 



These natural towers are so multiplied over the surface of this 

 extraordinary region, that the roads wind through them in narrow 

 passages, and the labyrinth may be likened to the irregular streets 

 and narrow alleys of some mediaeval European city. Seen from afar, 



