CHAPTER III.

Previous

THE RED RIVER COUNTRY.

Monday morning saw us on our way northward,—down the valley of the Red River.

It was exhilarating to gallop over the level prairies, inhaling the fresh air, our horses brushing the dew from the grass, and to see flocks of plump prairie chickens rise in the air and whirr away,—to mark where they settled, and then to start them again and bring them down, one by one, with a double-barrelled shot-gun. Did we not think of the stews and roasts we would have at night?

For a dozen years or more every school-boy has seen upon his map the town of Breckenbridge, located on the Red River of the North. It is off from the travelled road. The town, as one of our teamsters informed us, "has gone up." It originally consisted of two houses and a saw-mill, but the Sioux Indians swooped down upon it in 1862, and burned the whole place. A few logs, the charred remains of timbers, and tall fire-weeds alone mark the spot.

Riding on, we reached Fort Abercrombie at noon. It is situated in Dakota, on the west bank of the Red River, which we crossed by a rope ferry. It is a resting-place for the thousands of teams passing between St. Cloud and Fort Garry, and other places in the far Northwest. The place is of no particular account except as a distributing point for government supplies for forts farther on, and the advancement of civilization will soon enable the War Department to break up the establishment.

The river is fringed with timber. We ride beneath stately oaks growing upon the bottom-lands, and notice upon the trees the high-water marks of former years. The stream is very winding, and when the spring rains come on the rise is as great, though not usually so rapid, as in the Merrimac and Connecticut, and other rivers of the East.

The valley of the Red River is not such as we are accustomed to see in the East, bounded by hills or mountains, but a level plain.

When the sky is clear and the air serene, we can catch far away in the east the faint outline of the Leaf Hills, composing the low ridge between the Red River and the Mississippi, but westward there is nothing to bound the sight. The dead level reaches on and on to the rolling prairies of the Upper Missouri.

The eye rests only upon the magnificent carpet, bright with wild roses and petunias, lilies and harebells, which Nature has unrolled upon the floor of this gorgeous palace.

I had been slow to believe all that had been told in regard to the genial climate of the Northwest, but through the courtesy of the commandant of the Fort, General Hunt, was permitted to see the meteorological records kept at the post.

The summer of 1868 was excessively warm in the Western, Middle, and Atlantic States. Here, on one day in July, the mercury rose to ninety degrees, Fahrenheit, but the mean temperature for the month was seventy-nine. In August the highest temperature was eighty-eight, the lowest fifty, the mean sixty-nine. In September the highest temperature was seventy-four, the mean forty-seven. A slight frost occurred on the night of the 16th, and a hard one on the last day of the month. In October a few flakes of snow fell on the 27th. In November there were a few inches of snow. Toward the close of December, on one day, the mercury reached twenty-seven below zero. On the 30th of January it dropped to thirty below. During this month there were four days on which snow fell, and in February there were ten snowy days. The greatest depth of snow during the winter was about eighteen inches, furnishing uninterrupted sleighing from December to March.

On the 23d of March wild geese and ducks appeared, winging their way to Lake Winnipeg and Hudson Bay. The spring opened early in April.

There are no farms as yet in the valley,—the few settlers cultivating only small patches of land.

I have thought of this section of country as being almost up to the arctic circle, and can only disabuse my mind by comparing it with other localities in the same latitude. St. Paul is in the latitude of Bordeaux, in the grape-growing district of Southern France. Here at Fort Abercrombie we are at least one hundred and fifty miles farther south than the world's gayest capital, Paris.

It is not likely that Northern Minnesota will ever become a wine-producing country, though wild grapes are found along the streams, and the people of St. Paul and Minneapolis will show us thrifty vines in their gardens, laden with heavy clusters.

Minnesota is a wheat-growing region, climate and soil are alike favorable to its production.

On the east bank of the Red River we see a field owned by Mr. McAuley, who keeps a store and sells boots, pipes, tobacco, powder, shot, and all kinds of supplies needed by hunters and frontiersmen. He sowed his wheat this year (1869) on the 5th of May, and it is now, on the 19th of July, heading out. "I had forty-five bushels to the acre last year," he says, "and the present crop will be equally good."

RED RIVER VALLEY.

This Red River Valley throughout its length and breadth is very fertile. Here are twenty thousand square miles of land,—an area as large as Vermont and New Hampshire combined,—unsurpassed for richness.

The construction of the Northern Pacific Railroad and the St. Paul and Pacific, both of which are to reach this valley within a few months, will make these lands virtually as near market as the farms of Central or Western Illinois. From the Red River to Duluth the distance is 210 miles in a direct line. It is 187 miles from Chicago to Springfield, Illinois; so that when the Northern Pacific Railroad is constructed to this point, Mr. McAuley will be just as near Boston or New York as the farmers who live in the vicinity of the capital of Illinois; for grain can be taken from Duluth to Buffalo, Oswego, or Ogdensburg as cheaply as from Chicago. The richness of the lands, the supply of timber on the Red River and all its branches, with the opening of the two lines of railway, will give a rapid settlement to this paradise of the Northwest.

Professor Hind, of Toronto, who was sent out by the Canadian government to explore the British Possessions northwest of Lake Superior, in his report says: "Of the valley of the Red River I find it impossible to speak in any other terms than those which may express astonishment and admiration. I entirely concur in the brief but expressive description given me by an English settler on the Assinniboine, that the valley of the Red River, including a large portion belonging to its great affluents, is a paradise of fertility."

In Mr. McAuley's garden we see corn in the spindle. The broad leaves wear as rich a green as if fertilized with the best Peruvian guano; and no wonder, for the soil is a deep black loam, and as mellow as an ash-heap. His peas were sown the 2d of June, and they are already large enough for the table! He will have an abundant supply of cucumbers by the first of August. They were not started under glass, but the dry seeds were dropped in the hills the same day he planted his peas,—the 2d of June.

Vegetation advances with great rapidity. Mr. McAuley says that vegetables and grains come to maturity ten or fifteen days earlier here than at Manchester, New Hampshire, where he once resided.

General Pope was formerly stationed at Fort Abercrombie; and in his report upon the resources of the country and its climatology, says that the wheat, upon an average, is five pounds per bushel heavier than that grown in Illinois or the Middle States.

We saw yesterday a gentleman and lady who live at Fort Garry, and who call themselves "Winnipeggers." They were born in Scotland, and had been home to Old Scotia to see their friends.

"How do you like Winnipeg?" I asked.

"There is no finer country in the world," he replied.

"Do you not have cold winters?"

"Not remarkably so. We have a few cold days, but the air is usually clear and still on such days, and we do not mind the cold. If we only had a railroad, it would be the finest place in the world to live in."

We wonder at his enthusiasm over a country which we have thought of as being almost, if not quite, out of the world, while he doubtless looks with pity upon us who are content to remain in such a cooped-up place as the East.

Most of us, unless we have become nomads, think that there are no garden patches so attractive as our own, and we wonder how other people can be willing to live so far off.

This Winnipeg gentleman says that the winters are no more severe at Fort Garry than at St. Paul, and that the spring opens quite as early.

The temperature for the year at Fort Garry is much like that of Montreal, as will be seen by the following comparison:—

Spring Summer Autumn Winter
° ° ° °
Montreal, 43 70 49 17
Fort Garry, 36 68 48 7

This shows the mean temperatures for the three months of each season. Though the mercury is ten degrees lower at Fort Garry in the winter than at Montreal, there is less wind, fewer raw days, much less snow, and, taken all in all, the climate is more agreeable.

Bidding good by to the courteous commander of the fort, who supplies that portion of our party going to the Missouri with an escort, we gallop on through this "Paradise," starting flocks of plovers from the waving grass, and bringing down, now and then, a prairie chicken.

Far away, on the verge of the horizon, we can see our wagons,—mere specks.

What a place for building a railway! Not a hillock nor a hollow, not a curve or loss of gradient; timber enough on the river for ties. And when built, what a place to let on steam! The engineer may draw his throttle-valve and give the piston full head. Here will be the place to see what iron, steel, and steam can do.

We pitch our tents for the night in the suburbs of Burlington, not far from the hotel and post-office. The hotel, which just now is the only building in town, is built of logs. It is not very spacious inside, but it has all the universe outside!

Once a week the mail-carrier passes from Fort Abercrombie to Pembina, and as there are a half-dozen pioneers and half-breeds within a radius of thirty miles of Burlington, a post-office has been established here, which is kept in a shed adjoining the hotel.

The postmaster gives us a cordial greeting. It is a pleasure to hear this bluff but wide-awake German say, "O, I have been acquainted with you for a long while. I followed you through the war and around the world."

From first to last, in letters from the battle-field, from the various countries of the world, and in these notes of travel, it has ever been my aim to write for the comprehension of the people; and such spontaneous and uncalled-for commendation of my efforts out here upon the prairies was more grateful than many a well-meant paragraph from the public press.

While pitching our tents, a flock of pigeons flew past, and down in the woods along the bank of the river we could hear their cooing. Those who had shot-guns went to the hunt; while some of us tried the river for fish, but returned luckless. The supper was good enough, however, without trout or pickerel. Who can ask for anything better than prairie chicken, plover, duck, pork, and pigeons?

Then, when hunger is appeased, we sit around the camp-fire and think of the future of this paradise. Near by is another camp-fire.

I see by its glimmering light a stalwart man with shaggy beard and a slouched hat. The emigrant's wife sits on the other side of the fire, and by its light I see that she wears a faded linsey-woolsey dress, that her hair is uncombed, and that she has not given much attention to her toilet. Two frowzy-headed children, a boy and a girl, are romping in the grass. The worldly effects of this family are in that canvas-covered ox-wagon, with a chicken-coop at the hinder part, and a tin kettle dangling beneath the axle. This emigrant has come from Iowa. He is moving into this valley "to take up a claim." That is, he is going to select a piece of choice land under the Homestead Act, build a cabin, and "make a break in the per-ra-ry," he says.

He will be followed by others. The tide is setting in rapidly, and by the time the railway company are ready to carry freight there will be population enough here to support the road.

We have an early start in the morning. Our route is along a highway, upon which there is more travel than upon many of the old turnpikes of New England for Winnipeg, and the Hudson Bay posts receive all their supplies over this road.

At our noonday halt we fall in with Father Genin, a French Catholic priest, who lives on the bank of the river in a log-hut. He comes out to see us, wearing a long black bombazine priestly gown, and low-crowned hat. He is in the prime of life, was educated at Paris, came to Quebec, and is assigned to the Northwest. He has sailed over Lake Winnipeg, and paddled his canoe on the Saskatchawan and Athabasca.

"My parish," he says, "reaches from St. Paul to the Rocky Mountains." He speaks in glowing terms of the country up "in the Northwest,"—as if we, who are now sixteen hundred miles from Boston, had not reached the Northwest!

Our talk with Father Genin, and his enthusiastic description of the Saskatchawan Valley, has set us to thinking of this region, to which the United States once held claim, and which might now have been a part of our domain if it had not been for the pusillanimity of President Polk.

Mackenzie was the first European who gave to the world an account of the country lying between us and the Arctic Sea. He was in this valley in 1789, and was charmed with it. He made his way down to Lake Winnipeg, thence up the Saskatchawan to Athabasca Lake. At the carrying-place between the Saskatchawan and Athabasca rivers, at Portage la Loche, he discovered springs of petroleum, which are thus described:—

"Twenty-five miles from the fork are some bituminous springs, into which a pole may be inserted without the least resistance. The bitumen is in a fluid state, and when mixed with resin is used to gum the canoes. In its heated state it emits a smell like sea-coal. The banks of Slave River, which are elevated, discover veins of the same bituminous quality."1

His winter quarters were near Lake Athabasca, at Fort Chippewayan, more than thirteen hundred miles northwest from Chicago. He thus writes in regard to the country:—

"In the fall of 1787, when I first arrived at Athabasca, Mr. Pond was settled on the bank of the Elk River, where he remained three years, and had as fine a kitchen-garden as I ever saw in Canada" (p. 127).

Of the climate in winter he says that the beginning was cold, and about one foot of snow fell. The last week in December and the first week in January were marked by warm southwest breezes, which dissolved all the snow. Wild geese appeared on the 13th of March; and on the 5th of April the snow had entirely disappeared. On the 20th he wrote:—

"The trees are budding, and many plants are in blossom" (p. 150).

Mackenzie left the "Old Establishment," as one of the posts of the Hudson Bay Company was called, on the Peace River, in the month of May, for the Rocky Mountains. He followed the stream through the gap of the mountains, passed to the head-waters of Fraser River, and descended that stream to the Pacific. He thus describes the country along the Peace River:—

"This magnificent theatre of nature has all the decorations which the trees and animals can afford it. Groves of poplars in every shape vary the scene, and their intervales are relieved with vast herds of elk and buffaloes,—the former choosing the steeps and uplands, the latter preferring the plains. The whole country displayed an exuberant verdure; the trees that bear blossoms were advancing fast to that delightful appearance, and the velvet rind of their branches reflecting the oblique rays of a rising or setting sun added a splendid gayety to the scene which no expressions of mine are qualified to describe" (p. 154).

This was in latitude 55° 17', about fourteen hundred miles from St. Paul.

The next traveller who enlightened the world upon this region was Mr. Harman, a native of Vergennes, Vermont, who became connected with the Northwest Fur Company, and passed seventeen years in British America. He reached Lake Winnipeg in 1800, and his first winter was passed west of the lake. Under date of January 5th we have this record in his journal:—

"Beautiful weather. Saw in different herds at least a thousand buffaloes grazing" (p. 68).

"February 17th.—We have now about a foot and a half of snow on the ground. This morning one of our people killed a buffalo on the prairie opposite the fort" (p. 73).

"March 14th.—The greater part of the snow is dissolved."2

On the 6th of April Mr. Harman writes: "I have taken a ride on horseback to a place where our people are making sugar. My path led me over a small prairie, and through a wood, where I saw a great variety of birds that were straining their tuneful throats as if to welcome the return of another spring; small animals were running about, or skipping from tree to tree, and at the same time were to be seen, swans, bustards, ducks, etc. swimming about in the rivers and ponds. All these things together rendered my ramble beautiful beyond description" (p. 75).

During the month of April there were two snow-storms, but the snow disappeared nearly as fast as it fell.

One winter was passed by Mr. Harman in the country beyond Lake Athabasca, on the Athabasca River, where he says the snow during the winter "was at no time more than two feet and a half deep" (p. 174).

On May 6th he writes: "We have planted our potatoes and sowed most of our garden-seeds" (p. 178).

"June 2d.—The seeds which we sowed in the garden have sprung up and grown remarkably well. The present prospect is that strawberries, red raspberries, shad-berries, cherries, etc. will be abundant this season."

"July 21st.—We have cut down our barley, and I think it is the finest that I ever saw in any country. The soil on the points of land along this river is excellent" (p. 181).

"October 3d.—We have taken our potatoes out of the ground, and find that nine bushels which we planted on the 10th of May last have produced a little more than one hundred and fifty bushels. The other vegetables in our garden have yielded an increase much in the same proportion, which is sufficient proof that the soil of the points of land along this river is good. Indeed, I am of opinion that wheat, rye, barley, oats, peas, etc. would grow well in the plains around us" (p. 186).

He passed several winters at the head-waters of Peace River, in the Rocky Mountains. In his journal we have these records:—

"May 7th.—The weather is very fine, and vegetation is far advanced for the season. Swans and ducks are numerous in the lakes and rivers."

"May 22d.—Planted potatoes and sowed garden-seeds."

"October 3rd.—We have taken our vegetables out of the ground. We have forty-one bushels of potatoes, the produce of one bushel planted last spring. Our turnips, barley, etc. have produced well" (p. 257).

In 1814 he writes under date of September 3d: "A few days since we cut down our barley. The five quarts which I sowed on the 1st of May have yielded as many bushels. One acre of ground, producing in the same proportion, would yield eighty-four bushels. This is sufficient proof that the soil in many places in this quarter is favorable to agriculture" (p. 267).

Sir John Richardson, who explored the arctic regions by this route, says: "Wheat is raised with profit at Fort Liard, lat. 60° 5' N., lon. 122° 31' W., and four or five hundred feet above the sea. This locality, however, being in the vicinity of the Rocky Mountains, is subject to summer frosts, and the grain does not ripen every year, though in favorable seasons it gives a good return."

In 1857, Captain Palliser, of the Royal Engineers, was sent out by the English government to explore the region between Lake Superior and the Pacific, looking towards the construction of a railroad across the continent, through the British Possessions. His report to the government is published in the Blue-Book.

Speaking of the country along the Assinniboine, he says: "The Assinniboine has a course of nearly three hundred miles; lies wholly within a fertile and partially wooded country. The lower part of the valley for seventy miles, before it joins the Red River, affords land of surpassing richness and fertility" (p. 9).

Of the South Saskatchawan, he says that "it flows through a thick-wooded country" (p. 10).

The natural features of the north branch of that river are set forth in glowing language:—

"The richness of the natural pasture in many places on the North Saskatchawan and its tributary, Battle River, can hardly be exaggerated. Its value does not consist in its long rank grasses or in its great quantity, but from its fine quality, comprising nutritious species of grasses, along with natural vetches in great variety, which remain throughout the winter juicy and fit for the nourishment of stock.

"Almost anywhere along the Saskatchawan a sufficiency of good soil is everywhere to be found, fit for all purposes, both for pasture and tillage, extending towards the thick-wooded hills, and also to be found in the region of the lakes, between Forts Pitt and Edmonton. In almost every direction around Edmonton the land is fine, excepting only the hilly country at the higher level, such as the Beacon Hills; even there there is nothing like sterility, only the surface is too much broken to be occupied while more level country can be obtained" (p. 10).

Going up the Saskatchawan he discovered beds of coal, which are thus described:—

"In the upper part of the Saskatchawan country, coal of fine quality occurs abundantly, and may hereafter be very useful. It is quite fit to be employed in the smelting of iron from the ore of that metal, which occurs in large quantities in the same strata" (p. 11).

Two hundred miles north of this coal deposit, Mackenzie discovered the springs of petroleum and coal strata along the banks of the streams. Harman saw the same.

Palliser wintered on the Saskatchawan, and speaks thus of the climate:—

"The climate in winter is more rigorous than that of Red River, and partial thaws occur long before the actual opening of spring. The winter is much the same in duration, but the amount of snow that falls rapidly decreases as we approach the mountains. The river generally freezes about the 12th of November, and breaks up from the 17th to the 20th of April. During the winter season of five months the means of travelling and transport are greatly facilitated by the snow, the ordinary depth of which is sufficient for the use of sleighs, without at the same time being great enough to impede horses.

"The whole of this region of country would be valuable, not only for agriculture, but also for mixed purposes of settlement. The whole region is well wooded and watered, and enjoys a climate far preferable to that of either Sweden or Norway. I have not only seen excellent wheat, but Indian corn (which will not succeed in England or Ireland), ripening on Mr. Pratt's farm at the Qui Appelle Lakes in 1857" (p. 11).

Father De Smet, a Catholic missionary, in 1845 crossed the Rocky Mountains from British Columbia, eastward to the head-waters of the south branch of the Saskatchawan, and passed along the eastern base of the mountains to Edmonton. He characterizes the country as "an ocean of prairies."

"The entire region," he says, "in the vicinity of the eastern chain of the Rocky Mountains, serving as their base for thirty or sixty miles, is extremely fertile, abounding in forests, plains, prairies, lakes, streams, and mineral springs. The rivers and streams are innumerable, and on every side offer situations favorable for the construction of mills. The northern and southern branches of the Saskatchawan water the district I have traversed for a distance of about three hundred miles. Forests of pines, cypress, cedars, poplar and aspen trees, as well as others of different kinds, occupy a large portion of it. The country would be capable of supporting a large population, and the soil is favorable for the production of wheat, barley, potatoes, and beans, which grow here as well as in the more southern countries."

It is a region abundantly supplied with coal of the lignite formation. Father Genin has a specimen of lignite taken from the banks of Maple River, about seven miles from our camp. It is a small branch of the Red River flowing from the west. If we were to travel northwest a little more than one hundred miles, we should come to the Little Souris or Mouse River, a branch of the Assinniboine, where we should find seams of the same kind of coal. Continuing on to the Saskatchawan, we shall find it appearing all along the river from Fort Edmonton to the Rocky Mountains, a distance of between three and four hundred miles.

Dr. Hector, geologist to the exploring expedition under Captain Palliser, thus describes the coal on Red Deer River, a branch of the South Saskatchawan:—

"The lignite forms beds of great thickness, one group of seams measuring twenty-five feet in thickness, of which twelve feet consist of pure compact lignite. At one point the seam was on fire, and the Indians say that for as long as they can remember the fire at this place has not been extinguished, summer or winter" (p. 233).

Father De Smet passed down the river in 1845, and it was then on fire. If we were to travel northward from the Red Deer to the Peace River, we should find the same formation; and if we were to glide down the Mackenzie towards the Arctic Sea, we should, according to the intrepid voyager whose name it bears, find seams of coal along its banks.

Mr. Bourgeau, botanist to the Palliser Exploring Expedition, in a letter addressed to Sir William Hooker, has the following remarks upon the capabilities of the Northwest for supporting a dense population:—

"It remains for me to call the attention of the English government to the advantages there would be in establishing agricultural districts in the vast plains of Rupert's Land, and particularly in the Saskatchawan, in the neighborhood of Fort Carlton. This district is much better adapted to the culture of staple crops than one would have been inclined to believe from this high latitude. In effect, the few attempts at the culture of cereals already made in the vicinity of the Hudson Bay Company's posts demonstrate by their success how easy it would be to obtain products sufficiently large to remunerate the efforts of the agriculturist. Then, in order to put the land under cultivation, it would be necessary only to till the better portions of the soil. The prairies offer natural pasturage as favorable for the maintenance of numerous herds as if they had been artificially created. The construction of houses for habitation and for pioneer development would involve but little expense, because in many parts of the country, independent of wood, one would find fitting stones for building purposes, and it is easy to find clay for bricks.... The vetches found here are as fitting for nourishment of cattle as the clover of European pasturage. The abundance of buffaloes, and the facility with which herds of horses and oxen increase, demonstrate that it would be enough to shelter animals in winter, and to feed them in the shelters with hay.... In the gardens of the Hudson Bay Company's posts, beans, peas, and French beans have been successfully cultivated; also cabbages, turnips, carrots, rhubarb, and currants" (p. 250).

The winters of the Northwest are wholly unlike those of the Eastern and Middle States. The meteorologist of Palliser's Expedition says: "Along the eastern base of the Rocky Mountains there is a narrow strip of country in which there is never more than a few inches of snow on the ground. About forty miles to the eastward, however, the fall begins to be much greater, but during the winter rarely exceeds two feet. On the prairies the snow evaporates rapidly, and, except in hollows where it is drifted, never accumulates; but in the woods it is protected, and in spring is often from three to four feet deep" (p. 268).

Captain Palliser and party travelled from post to post during the winter without difficulty. In February, 1859, he travelled from Edmonton to Lake St. Ann's. On two nights the mercury was frozen in the bulb,—as it is not unfrequently at Franconia, New Hampshire. Exclusive of those two cold nights, the mean of the temperature was seventeen. He says: "This was a trip made during the coldest weather experienced in the country. If proper precautions are taken, there is nothing merely in extreme cold to stop travelling in the wooded country, but the danger of freezing from exposure upon the open plains is so great that they cannot be ventured on with safety during any part of the winter" (p. 268).

The Wesleyan Missionary Society of England has a mission at Edmonton, under the care of Rev. Thomas Woolsey. The following extracts from his journal will show the progress of the winter and spring season in 1855:—

"Nov. 1. A little snow has fallen for the first time.
" 12. Swamps frozen over.
" 13. A little more snow.
" 17. Crossed river on the ice.
Dec. 2. The past week has been remarkably mild.
" 9. More snow.
1856. Jan. 8 to 11. More like spring than winter.
Jan. 13. Fine open weather.
" 17. Somewhat colder.
Feb. 14. Weather open.
" 16. Snow rapidly disappearing.
Mar. 11. More snow.
" 17. Firing pasture-grounds to-day.
" 18. Thunder-storm.
" 21. Ducks and geese returning.
" 30. More snow, but it is rapidly disappearing.
" 31. Snow quite gone.
April 7. Ploughing commenced.
" 28. First wheat sown."

The succeeding winter was more severe, and three feet of snow fell during the season, but the spring opened quite as early as in 1856. The comparative mildness of the winter climate of all this vast area of the West and Northwest, at the head-waters of the Missouri, and in the British dominions, as far north as latitude 70°, is in a great measure due to the warm winds of the Pacific.

In the autumn of 1868 I crossed the Pacific, from Japan to San Francisco, in the Pacific mail-steamer Colorado. Soon after leaving the Bay of Yokohama we entered the Kuro-Siwo, or the Black Ocean River of the Asiatic coast. This ocean current bears a remarkable resemblance to the Gulf Stream of the Atlantic. Along the eastern shore of Japan the water, like that along Virginia and the Carolinas, is very cold, but we suddenly pass into the heated river, which, starting from the vicinity of the Philippine Islands, laves the eastern shore of Formosa, and rushes past the Bay of Yeddo at the rate of eighty miles per day. This heated river strikes across the Northern Pacific to British Columbia and Puget Sound, giving a genial climate nearly up to the Arctic Circle. No icebergs are ever encountered in the North Pacific. The influence of the Kuro-Siwo upon the Northwest is very much like that which the Gulf Stream has upon England and Norway. It gives to Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, and Vancouver Island winters so mild that the people cannot lay in a supply of ice for the summer. Roses bloom in the gardens throughout the year. So the water heated beneath the tropics, off the eastern coast of Siam and north of Borneo, flows along the shore of Japan up to the Aleutian Isles, imparting its heat to the air, which, under the universal law, ascends when heated, and sweeps over the Rocky Mountains, and tempers the climate east of them almost to Hudson Bay.

So wonderfully arranged is this mighty machinery of nature, that millions of the human race in coming years will rear their habitations and enjoy the blessings of civilization in regions that otherwise would be pathless solitudes.

In the meteorological register kept at Carlton House, in lat. 52° 51', on the eastern limit of the Saskatchawan Plain, eleven hundred feet above the sea, we find this entry: "At this place westerly winds bring mild weather, and the easterly ones are attended by fog and snow."

By the following tabular statement we see at a glance the snow-fall at various places in the United States. We give average depths for the winter as set down in Blodget's climatology.

Oxford County, Maine 90 inches.
Dover, New Hampshire 68 "
Montreal, Canada 66 "
Burlington, Vermont 85 "
Worcester, Massachusetts 55 "
Cincinnati, Ohio 19 "
Burlington, Iowa 15 "
Beloit, Wisconsin 25 "
Fort Abercrombie, Dakota 12 "

From this testimony I am impelled to believe that the immense area west of Lake Superior and south of the 60th parallel is as capable of being settled as those portions of Russia, Sweden, and Norway south of that degree, now swarming with people. That parallel passes through St. Petersburg, Stockholm, Christiania, and the Shetland Isles on the eastern hemisphere, Fort Liard and Central Alaska on the western.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page