ELKLAND. 



ERNEST SETON THOMPSON. 



Any man who would describe a trip from 

 New York out to the West must be either a 

 Shakespeare or a fool. I do not claim to 

 be either. 



As we left Minneapolis, in the glow of a 

 red sunset, we had the first truly Western 

 thrill. We had crossed the Mississippi, but 

 now, for the first time, I really felt myself 

 back in the West*. A prairie meadowlark 

 sang the dear, old strain so familiar and so 

 long unheard and his song awakened many 

 pleasant memories. 



As we went on we continued to look for 

 news of the formidable Indian rising that 

 the papers were then full of. At New 

 York it was a terrible and bloody outbreak. 

 At Chicago it was widespread and danger- 

 ous. At St. Paul it was very threatening. 

 At Bismarck the authorities were said to 

 be taking precautions. At Miles City, few 

 seemed to know anything about it, but one 

 man remembered that trie sheriff had ar- 

 rested an Indian for being drunk and im- 

 polite. 



While I am correcting popular error, let 

 me give you a quiet hint about that badger 

 business. There's nothing in it. I mean 

 the report that an enterprising Yankee, at 

 Bismarck, has a lot of tame badgers trained 

 to dig postholes, and that he is making a 

 fortune by their hitherto wasted energies. 

 . At the Mandan Railway station is an 

 interesting display of curios, among which 



"ABOUT THAT BADGER BUSINESS." 



is a shorelark, mounted as the taxidermist 

 thought it should be. The man is a dis- 

 coverer as well as an artist, and having 

 satisfied himself that the shorelark belongs 

 to the owl family he improved on all previ- 

 ous attempts, and produced something like 

 this. If he meant it for a joke, it is a good 

 one. If he didn't it's better. 



It is well known that a sensible person 

 always conforms to the custom of the coun- 



try he is in. And we, 

 determined to be like 

 the natives, outfitted 

 at Chicago, with 

 broad sombreros and 

 complete cowboy 



(and cow girl) togs. A SHORELARK PROP- 

 Of course, we felt a ERLY (?) MOUNTED, 

 little strange among 



the Easterners; but we knew that once over 

 the river, we should be merged in the mass. 

 As we went Westward, we could see a faint 

 infusion of broad brims, but still our som- 

 breros were away West of the West. 



We continued to hope we should not be 

 peculiar when we were really in it; and at 

 last, on arriving at the Yellowstone Park, 

 we encountered the 

 first genuine cowboy, 

 in up to date togs. 

 He wore a hat like 

 our own and we felt 

 that at last we were 

 en regie. We were; 

 and all would have 

 been well, but alas! 

 alas! we soon learned 

 that he was a dude, 

 fresh from New 

 York, and out West 

 for the first time in 

 his life. 



Twice in one day, 

 during our trip across 

 the prairie, did I see the dry grass set on 

 fire by sparks from our own engine, when 

 the use of the exhaust sent showers of 

 burning coals from the smoke stack. These 

 fires were of course attributed, by the set- 

 tlers, to marauding Indians. 



About noon of June 8th, we entered the 

 paradise called the badlands. They pre- 

 sented the most bewilderingly beautiful 

 and fantastic formations, and exquisite 

 tints, I ever saw. The journey through 

 them was like a succession of unspeakable 

 sunsets. I now realized, for the first time, 

 what was meant by the color vulgarization 

 of many of our well known artists, who 

 have flattered themselves they could show 

 the world, on canvas, what the badlands 

 are like. As soon as possible, I shall at- 

 tempt my own vulgarizing of their deli- 

 cate hues. 



At Livingston we entered the moun- 

 tains. Now, between ourselves, I have 

 never had much love for mountains. They 

 always seem to me aggressive, overpower- 

 ing, inaccessible and brutal; and they al- 

 ways seem posing for admiration. They 

 give one a shut-in feeling, and make things 

 seem close and stuffy. I am a prairie bird, 

 you see, and whenever I see a large moun- 



"WE OUTFITTED 

 AT CHICAGO." 



199 



