06 PRAIRIE BRIDGES. 



butcher*s kiiife. The culinary operations be- 

 ing finished, the pan and kettle are set upon 

 the grassy tiii-f, around which all take a ' low- 

 ly seat,' and crack their gleesome jokes, wliile 

 from their greasy hands they swallow their 

 savory viands — all with a rehsh rarely expe- 

 rienced at the well-spread table of the most 

 fashionable and wealSiy citizen. 



The insatiable appetite acquired by travel- 

 lers upon the Prairies is almost incredible, and 

 the quantity of coffee drank is still more so. 

 It is an unfaihng and apparently indispensa- 

 ble beverage, served at every meal — even un- 

 der the broiling noon-day sun, the wagoner 



wiU rarely fail to replenish a second time, his 

 huge tin cup. 



Early the next day we reached the ' Little 

 Arkansas,' which, although endowed witli an 

 imposmg name, is only a small creek with a 

 current but five or six yards wide. But, 

 though small, its steep banks and miry bed 

 annoyed us exceedingly in crossmg. It is the 

 practice upon the prairies on all such occasions, 

 for several men to go in advance with axes, 

 spades and mattocks, and, by digging the banks 

 and erecting temporary bridges, to have all hi 

 * readiness by the time the wagons arrive. A 

 bridge over a quagmire is made in a few mi- 

 nutes, by cross-laj-ing it with brush (willows 

 are best, but even long grass is often employ- 

 ed as a substitute), and covering it with earth, 



across which a hundred wagons will often 

 pass in safety. 



We had now arrived at the point nearest 



