MAXWELL'S HACIENDA. " 107 



line of survey. And this was a sight yciy common in camp ; 

 hntj alas ! sometimes^ after hours of toil^ a gust of wind would 

 come, upset the ink or paint-hox, rip up the nearly-finished 

 map from off the impromptu table, and oblige the unfortunate 

 map-makers to begin all their work afresh. In some places 

 flies or grasshoppers would insist on helping the draughts- 

 men. Some would spot the canyas here, there, and every- 

 where ; while others, not content with this, would first jump 

 into the indian ink and then draw maps of their oa\tl 

 Avherever they chanced to alight. At other times clouds of 

 'dust would cover everything, nor could any amount of 

 -pegging do^vTi keep the tent free from it. If I mistake not, 

 ^Ir. Trap, our topographer, can tell how a frightened mule got 

 entangled in the ropes and pulled the tent down OA^er one of his 

 best maps when almost completed. So that it was a matter 

 of great congratulation Avlien a map had passed through all 

 the many perils and dangers to which it was exposed during 

 its progress towards maturity and was at last safely consigned 

 to the tin case. 



Leaving the busy camp and the prairie lilies, let us ride 

 with the escort and pay a visit to Mr. Maxwell at his 



man 



this part of the country. He is by birth a French Canadian, 

 and has been five-and-twenty years in this land of his 

 adoption. By a Mexican marriage he became the possessor 

 of a Snanish errant, sixtv miles bv thii'tv in extent, covering 



most 



D 



i 



make with the Eocky Mountains 



almost to Fort Union. In 

 in idleness, as a Mexican 



ding his life 

 ve done, he 



m 



much 



\ 



rich domain. His house is beautifully situated on a fin 



