14 
Something about Western Prairies. 
among us; let every lover of his country then, 
and of his species, arouse to the establishment 
of this, together with State and County aux¬ 
iliaries throughout the land. 
ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE. 
We must acknowledge our indebtedness to our 
friends, for the correspondence they have so liberally 
proffered us for the public, in this first number. We 
shall be happy at all times to give place in our 
columns, to all well written communications on the 
subjects to which this paper is devoted. 
** ___ 
Something about Western Prairies. 
BY SOLON ROBINSON. 
To the Editor of the American Agriculturist. 
In addition to your note, suggesting that 
eastern readers are ever anxious to learn facts 
about the “great West,” I have received a great 
number of inquiries, some of which I will an¬ 
swer through your columns. 
And although the matter may not be alto¬ 
gether upon the science of agriculture, it may 
be such as will induce scientific reading, in the 
contents of agricultural journals. 
In my late tour through the Eastern States, 
how often I heard the exclamation, “ I do wish 
I could see a prairie! ” “ How do they look ? ” 
“ Ah, well! I shouldn’t like to live on one, 
they are so level.” “ An’t it very troublesome 
getting about through the tall grass ? ” “ How 
do you plough them? ” 
Notwithstanding that others, as well as my¬ 
self, have often, both publicly and privately,! 
answered these and many other similar ques-l 
tions, “ the demand is increasing,” and the 
public are “ like as two peas,” to my little 
children, with their, “ do now father, tell that 
story again ” 
In the first place then, my dear reader, I 
also wish you could see a prairie. You 
would feel as you never felt before. You 
would feel as I once did, when for the first 
time I stood upon the edge of the prairie upon 
which I now reside. “ It was about noon of a 
beautiful October day, when we emerged from 
the wood, and for miles around stretched forth 
one broad expanse of clear, open land. I stood 
alone, wrapt up in that peculiar sensation that 
man only feels when beholding a broad rolling 
prairie for the first time—an indescribable de¬ 
lightful feeling. Oh, what a rich mine of 
wealth lay outstretched before me.” 
And although that was seven years ago, yet 
almost the whole of that mine of wealth still 
holds its hidden and unsought for treasures. 
No plough or spade has broken the sod of ages; 
no magician has appeared with the husband¬ 
man’s magic wand and said to the coarse and 
useless grass that has grown for centuries, 
“ Presto, be gone,” give place to the lovely 
Ceres with her golden sheaves. 
And here, methinks I hear some reader ex¬ 
claim, “Well now, I guess it an’t so plaguy 
rich a’ter all, or it would’nt lay there unculti¬ 
vated.” Little does he know or think as he 
digs in the corn among the stones of New Eng¬ 
land, what vast quantities of such land lie 
waste in the West, and how few* there are there 
to improve them; and what is worse, how indo¬ 
lent a great portion of that few are. Talk of 
the country being sickly, why the worst epi¬ 
demic that ever raged in any country, is that 
idleness which fixes itself, incubus like, upon 
the whole population of an extraordinary fertile 
soil. 
I am sorry that I am not able to answer the 
second question, even satisfactorily to myself. 
But who that ever undertook, ever satisfied his 
inquirers as to how a prairie looks, while in a 
state of nature. The reason is that there is 
nothing analogous, to which one can compare 
it, in a thickly settled country. But suppose that 
the reader fancies the country with which he is 
best acquainted in an old settled country, entirely 
destitute of buildings or fences, or in fact any 
mark of civilization, with all the hills reduced 
so as to make a gently rolling surface, the 
woodland to remain as it is, and the entire sur¬ 
face of cleared land covered with grass—that 
upon the upland thick and short, and in the 
low lands one or two feet high, and in the 
swamps four or five feet, and he may have a 
very faint idea how a 'prairie looks. 
So you see they are not so “ very level.” 
Gently undulating, applies to all prairie coun¬ 
tries within my knowledge. Sometimes, though 
rarely, hills occur that are too steep to cultivate 
conveniently, and sometimes rocky bluffs. But 
a general characteristic in this region is desti¬ 
tuteness of stone, except a few boulders of 
granite, that have come from parts unknown. 
The streams are most generally muddy hot 
toms. The timber in the groves or islands that 
abound throughout this sea of grass, is most 
commonly short, and grows thin upon the 
ground, without underbrush, except at the edges, 
where the hazel bush seems to be the advanced 
guard, and is constantly encroaching upon the 
prairie. There are large tracts of timber land 
called “ barrens,” which are about half way 
between prairie and timber land—the tree stand¬ 
ing apart like an orchard, and the ground 
covered with grass, the sod of which is much 
less tough than that on the prairie. 
One very prominent feature of a prairie, I 
should mention, and that is the constant and 
ever varying succession of flowers from spring 
till fall. 
A singular and false notion prevails about 
