Western tPrairies* 
15 
the height of the grass, and that it must he 
difficult 'getting about. It is not even difficult 
for a sheep, as the grass never grows high 
enough upon the dry land -to impede or hide 
them. Near the banks of streams, or in 
marshes, it is like going through a field of oats 
or wheat. And it is in such places that grass 
is cut for hay—some very good—some good— 
and some that the less said about, the smaller 
the sin committed. 
But as for pasturage, no country can excel 
this. The milk, butter, cheese and beef attest 
the rich juciness of the feed. But we lack the 
beautiful blue grass pastures of Kentucky, for 
fall feed. Even now, near the middle of De¬ 
cember, notwithstanding we have had a hard 
fall for this country, this grass is green and 
good. Even timothy or red top would yet 
afford “ a good bite.” 
The next wonder is about ploughing. And 
if, my dear reader, you who have ploughed so 
many acres of green sward with old “ Duke & 
Darby,” could only see a “ prairie team,” you 
would wonder still more. 
Fancy upon a level smooth piece of ground, 
free from sticks, stumps and stones, a team of 
four, five, or even six yoke of oxen, hitched to 
a pair of cart wheels, and to them hitched a 
plough with a beam fourteen feet long, and the 
share, &c. of which weigh from sixty to one 
hundred and twenty-five pounds, of wrought 
iron and steel, and which cuts a furrow from 
sixteen to twenty-four inches wide, and you will 
figure the appearance of a “breaking team” in 
operation. If you ask me if this is necessary, 
I can only tell you that I suppose it is, for it is 
fashionable. 
I do believe though, that a smaller plou 
and less team would be better for the land, 
though it is said it would be more expensive 
ploughing. It is true that the sod is more 
tough than can be believed by those who have 
never ploughed it. It requires the plough to 
be kept very sharp, and for this purpose the 
ploughman is always provided with a large file 
with which he keeps a keen edge as possible 
upon the share and coulter. 
Such a team ploughs from one to two acres 
a day, usually about four inches deep, which is 
not near down to the bottom of the roots, so that 
the sod turned up affords but a scanty covering 
for grain that is sowed upon it at first, yet very 
fine crops of wheat are raised in this way. It 
is also a common practice to break up in the 
spring and drop com in every second or third 
furrow, and from which twenty or thirty bush¬ 
els to the acre are often gathered, nothing having 
ever been done to it after planting. It takes 
two or three years for these sods to become 
thoroughly decomposed, and then the soil is of 
a light, loose, black vegetable mould, very 
easily stirred by the plough, but of a nature 
that it adheres to the plough in a troublesome 
manner. In fact, no plough has ever been 
found to keep itself clear; and the ploughman 
is generally obliged to carry with him a small 
wooden paddle, with which to clear off the 
adhering mass of dirt upon the mould board 
With this exception, the prairie soil is generally 
one of the easiest in the world to till, and of 
course remarkably fertile. 
By far the greatest portion is based upon a 
sub-soil of clay, though in many places the 
sub-soil is sand or* gravel, and there are large 
tracts of which the surface is of this material. 
The streams are often broad and nearly covered 
with vegetable growth, in some instances to 
that degree that sheets of water many rods wide 
actually burn over during tile autumnal fires. 
Notwithstanding the many “interesting ac¬ 
counts of burning prairies,” the fire upon a dry 
prairie in a calm time does not blaze as high as 
it would in an old stubble field. But in the 
marshes or wet prairies, it sometimes rages with 
most magnificent grandeur. 
There is one more question often asked, that 
deserves some notice; and that is, “ How is 
this land ever to be fenced ? ” This is a ques¬ 
tion that deserves serious consideration. 
The settlements already made are upon the 
smaller prairies, the centre of which are not 
more than four or five miles from timber, or 
along the border of “the Grand Prairie,” taking 
care not to extend out beyond the reach of con¬ 
venient woodland. But there are many places 
where the groves are barely sufficient to furnish 
the land most contiguous, and vast tracts of 
prairie are to be found ten or fifteen miles from 
timber. That these tracts will for ever remain 
uncultivated, cannot for a moment be thought 
of. That timber can be planted and raised in 
abundance is certain. It is equally certain that 
they can be fenced with ditches, and perhaps 
with hedges, though the experiments that have 
as yet been made in the United States to enclose 
land with hedges have generally proved fail¬ 
ures. 
The most feasible plan, it seems to me, would 
be to enclose large tracts by ditching, and cul¬ 
tivate the land without division fences, even 
between many occupants. Such is the mode in 
many parts of Europe, and more particularly 
in China. Or this kind of land could be pro¬ 
fitably improved by grazing herds of cattle and 
sheep under the care of shepherds. Houses of 
a most comfortable kind can be built of clay 
without burning into brick, and the expense of 
hauling lumber for roofs and inside work would 
be trifling. The only difficulty would be fuel. 
In many parts of the West coal exists in abun- 
