league a plain as level as a frozen lake was outspread beneath us;
here and there the Platte, divided into a dozen threadlike sluices, was
traversing it, and an occasional clump of wood, rising in the midst like
a shadowy island, relieved the monotony of the waste. No living thing
was moving throughout the vast landscape, except the lizards that darted
over the sand and through the rank grass and prickly-pear just at our
feet. And yet stern and wild associations gave a singular interest to
the view; for here each man lives by the strength of his arm and the
valor of his heart. Here society is reduced to its original elements,
the whole fabric of art and conventionality is struck rudely to pieces,
and men find themselves suddenly brought back to the wants and resources
of their original natures.

We had passed the more toilsome and monotonous part of the journey; but
four hundred miles still intervened between us and Fort Laramie; and to
reach that point cost us the travel of three additional weeks. During
the whole of this time we were passing up the center of a long narrow
sandy plain, reaching like an outstretched belt nearly to the Rocky
Mountains. Two lines of sand-hills, broken often into the wildest and
most fantastic forms, flanked the valley at the distance of a mile or
two on the right and left; while beyond them lay a barren, trackless
waste--The Great American Desert--extending for hundreds of miles to the
Arkansas on the one side, and the Missouri on the other. Before us and
behind us, the level monotony of the plain was unbroken as far as the
eye could reach. Sometimes it glared in the sun, an expanse of hot,
bare sand; sometimes it was veiled by long coarse grass. Huge skulls
and whitening bones of buffalo were scattered everywhere; the ground
was tracked by myriads of them, and often covered with the circular
indentations where the bulls had wallowed in the hot weather. From every
gorge and ravine, opening from the hills, descended deep, well-worn