aT. 61.] TO R. W. CHURCH. 629 
place, over a thousand miles west of Boston, we made 
our proper start. . . . A welcome rain cooled the air 
and laid the dust that morning, and not a drop more 
of rain did we see, any more than in Egypt, from that 
day onward, until, six or seven weeks later, we were 
back at the eastern base of the Rocky Mountains, 
when there was an evening thunderstorm, and the 
next morning I called Mrs. Gray to the window to 
see a novel sight, —the streets dripping and muddy! 
I wish I could describe to you our journey, and the 
sort of life we were leading. But if I go into par- 
ticulars there will be no end. 
At Omaha we were on the Pacific Railroad proper, 
and soon upon the plains, at first the larger part culti- 
vated, but barer and drier as we advanced westward, 
and ascended imperceptibly ; so that the next twenty- 
four hours brought us, with some fine views of the 
range, to the foot of the Rocky Mountains and a 
height of 5,000 or 6,000 feet above the sea; that after- 
noon over the Black Hills of the Platte, 2,000 or 3,000 
feet higher, and the highest elevation of the road, — 
higher than the passes through the Rocky Mountains 
beyond, —and at nightfall we were traversing the wide 
grassy Laramie Plains, a vast, sequestered sub-alpine 
meadow. And when I rose early next morning, we 
were running through a dry desert “ sage bush ” 
(wormwood ) region (desert, except for the botanist, — 
the first plant I saw and clutched proved to be 
Grayia), the scanty waters of which run into the 
Colorado of the West and the Gulf of California. 
Another twenty-four hours, through grand scenery, 
brought us, after three nights in our car berths, to 
Ogden, on Salt Lake, where we took a branch road 
and, skirting the lake along the whole eastern shore, 
