THE EMPIRE OF THE NORTHWEST.

Hundreds of Winnipeggers were upon the road, either going to or returning from St. Cloud, from whence all groceries and other supplies are obtained. The teams consist of a single horse or ox, not unfrequently a cow, harnessed to a two-wheeled cart. The outfit is a curiosity. The wheels are six or seven feet in diameter, and very dishing. A small rack is affixed to the wooden axle. The concern is composed wholly of wood, with a few raw-hide thongs. It is primitive in design and construction, and though so rude, though there is not an ounce of iron about the cart, it serves the purpose of these voyagers admirably. Our teams have been stuck in the mud, at the crossings of creeks, half a dozen times a day; but those high-wheeled carts are borne up by the grass roots where ours go down to the hub.

There is a family to each cart,—father, mother, and a troop of frowzy-headed, brown-faced children, who, though shoeless and hatless and half naked, are as happy as the larks singing in the meadows, or the plover skimming the air on quivering wings. They travel in companies,—fifteen or twenty carts in a caravan. When night comes on, the animals are turned out to graze; the families cook each their own scanty supply of food, smoke their pipes by the glimmering camp-fire, tell their stories of adventure among the buffaloes, roll themselves in a blanket, creep beneath their carts,—all the family in a pile if the night is cool,—sleep soundly, and are astir before daylight, and on the move by sunrise. The journey down and back is between eight and nine hundred miles; and as the average distance travelled is only about twenty miles a day, it takes from forty to fifty days to make the round trip. No wonder the people of that settlement are anxious to have a railroad reach the Red River.

Leaving the Pembina road and striking westward to the river, we descend the bank to the bottom-land, which is usually about twenty-five feet below the general surface of the valley. We cross the river by a rope ferry kept by a half-breed, and strike out upon the Dakota plain. The trail that we are upon bears northwest, and is the main road to Fort Totten, near Lake Miniwakan, or the "Devil's Lake," and the forts on the Upper Missouri. Here, as upon the Minnesota side, the wild-flowers are blooming in luxuriance. Our horses remorselessly trample the roses, the convolvulus, and the lilies beneath their feet.

The prairie chickens are whirring in every direction, and one of our bluff and burly teamsters, who is at home upon the prairies, who in the First Minnesota Regiment faced the Rebels in all the battles of the Peninsula, who was in the thickest of the fight at Gettysburg, who has hunted Indians over the Upper Missouri region, who is as keen-sighted as a hawk, takes the grouse right and left as they rise. His slouched hat bobs up and down everywhere. He seems to know just where the game is; now he is at your right hand, now upon the run a half-mile away upon the prairies. He stops, raises his gun,—there is a puff of smoke, another, and he has two more chickens in his bag. We are sure of having good suppers as long as he is about.

We reach Dakota City,—another thriving town of one log-house,—peopled by Monsieur Marchaud, a French Canadian, his Chippewa wife and twelve children.

While our tents are being pitched, we cross the river by another ferry to Georgetown,—a place consisting of two dwellings and a large storehouse owned by the Hudson Bay Company. This is the present steamboat landing, though sometimes the one steamer now on the river goes up to Fort Abercrombie. The river is narrow and winding south of this point, and not well adapted to navigation.

We find an obliging young Scotchman with a thin-faced wife in possession of the property belonging to the Company. He takes care of the premises through the year on a salary of two hundred dollars, and has his tea, sugar, and groceries furnished him. He can cultivate as much land as he pleases, though he does not own a foot of it,—neither does the Company own an acre. It belongs to the people of the United States, and any brave young man with a large-hearted wife may become possessor of these beautiful acres if he will, with the moral certainty of finding them quadrupled in value in five years.

This great highway of the North lies along the eastern bank of the river. We have travelled over it all the way from Fort Abercrombie, passing and meeting teams. Here we see a train of thirty wagons drawn by oxen, loaded with goods consisting of boxes of tea, sugar, salt, pork, bacon, and bales of cloth, which are shipped by steamer from this landing. The teas come from England to Montreal, are there shipped to Milwaukie, and transported by rail to St. Cloud. Each chest is closely packed in canvas and taken through in bond. The transportation of the Hudson Bay Company between this place and St. Cloud amounts to about seven hundred tons per annum.

In addition, the Red River transportation carried on by the Indians and half-breeds is very large. About twenty-five hundred carts pass down and up this highway during the year, each one carrying upon an average nine hundred pounds.

Besides all this there is the United States government transportation to Fort Abercrombie and the forts beyond, amounting last year to eighteen hundred tons. The rates paid by the War Department government for transportation are $1.36-3/8 per hundred pounds for every hundred miles. All of this traffic will be transferred at once to the Northern Pacific Railroad upon its completion to the Red River.

The estimated value of the Red River trade is ten millions of dollars per annum, and it is increasing every year.

The keen-eyed hunters of our party have been on the lookout for a stray buffalo or a deer, but the buffaloes are a hundred miles away. We hear that they have come north of the Missouri in great numbers, and those who are to go West anticipate rare sport. For want of a buffalo-steak we put up with beef. It is juicy and tender, from one of Mr. Marchaud's heifers, which has been purchased for the party.

It is a supper fit for sovereigns,—and every one is a sovereign out here, on the unsurveyed lands, of which we, in common with the rest of the people, are proprietors. We are lords of the manor, and we have sat down to a feast. Our eggs are newly laid by the hens of Dakota City, our milk is fresh from the cows whose bells are tinkling in the bushes along the bank of the river, and the cakes upon our table are of the finest flour in the world. Hunger furnishes the best relish, and when the cloth is removed we sit around the camp-fire during the evening, passing away the hours with wit, repartee, and jest, mingled with sober argument and high intellectual thought.

Our tents are pitched upon the river's bank. Far away to the south we trace the dim outline of the timber on the streams flowing in from the west. Turning our eyes in that direction, we see only the level sea of verdure,—the green grass waving in the evening breeze. At this place our company will divide,—Governor Marshall, Mr. Holmes, and several other gentlemen, going on to the Missouri, while the rest of us will travel eastward to Lake Superior.

It would be a pleasure to go with them,—to ride over the rolling prairies, to fall in with buffaloes and try my pony in a race with a big bull. It would be thrilling,—only if the hunted should right about face, and toss the hunter on his horns, the thrill would be of a different sort!

We sit by our camp-fires at night with our faces and hands smeared with an abominable mixture prepared by our M.D., ostensibly to keep the mosquitoes from presenting their bills, but which we surmise is a little game of his to daub us with a diabolical mixture of glycerine, soap, and tar! Our tents are as odorous as the shop of a keeper of naval stores. There is an all-pervading smell of oakum and turpentine. Clouds of mosquitoes come, take a whiff, and retire in disgust. We can hear them having a big swear at the Doctor for compounding such an ointment!

I think of the country which those who are going west will see, and of the region beyond,—the valley of the Yellowstone, the Missouri, the slopes of the Rocky Mountains, and the hills of Montana,—territory to be included in the future Empire of the Northwest. I have written the word, but it bears no political meaning in these notes. It has the same signification as when applied to the State of New York. The Empire of the Northwest will be the territory lying north of the central ridge of the continent. Milwaukie may be taken as a starting-point for a survey of this imperial domain. That city is near the 43d parallel; following it westward, we see that it passes over the mountain-range on whose northern slopes the southern affluents of the Yellowstone take their rise. All the fertile valleys of the Columbia and its tributaries lie north of this parallel; all the streams of the Upper Missouri country, and the magnificent water-system of Puget Sound, and the intricate bays and inlets of British Columbia, reaching on to Alaska, having their only counterpart in the fiords of Norway, are north of that degree of latitude. I have already taken a view of the region now comprised in the British dominions east of the Rocky Mountains; but equally interesting will be a review of the territories of the Republic,—Dakota, Montana, Idaho, Oregon, and Washington, also British Columbia and Vancouver.

Dakota contains a little more than a hundred and fifty thousand square miles,—nearly enough territory to make four States as large as Ohio.

"The climate and soil of Dakota," says the Commissioner of Public Lands, General Wilson, in his Report for 1869, "are exceedingly favorable to the growth of wheat, corn, and other cereals, while all the fruits raised in the Northern States are here produced in the greatest perfection.... The wheat crop varied from twenty to forty bushels to the acre. Oats have produced from fifty to seventy bushels to the acre, and are of excellent quality" (p. 144).

Settlements are rapidly extending up the Missouri, and another year will behold this northern section teeming with emigrants. The northern section of the territory is bare of wood, but the southern portion is well supplied with timber in the Black Hills.

Two thousand square miles of the region of the Black Hills, says Professor Hayden, geologist to the United States Exploring Expedition under General Reynolds, is covered with excellent pine timber. That is an area half as large as the State of Connecticut, ample for the southern section; while the settlers of the northern portion will be within easy distance by rail of the timbered lands of Minnesota.

The northern half of Wyoming is north of the line we have drawn from Milwaukie to the Pacific, and of this Territory the Land Commissioner says: "A large portion of Wyoming produces a luxuriant growth of short nutritious grass, upon which cattle will feed and fatten during summer and winter without other provender. Those lands, even in their present condition, are superior for grazing. The climate is mild and healthy, the air and water pure, and springs abundant" (p. 159).

Beyond the 104th meridian lies Montana, a little larger than Dakota, with area enough for four States of the size of Ohio.

At St. Paul I was fortunate enough to fall in with Major-General Hancock, who had just returned from Montana, and who was enthusiastic in its praise.

"I consider it," he said, "to be one of the first grazing countries in the world. Its valleys are exceedingly fertile. It is capable of sustaining a dense population."

Wheat grows as luxuriantly in the valleys at the base of the Rocky Mountains as in Minnesota. The Territory appears to be richer in minerals than any other section of the country, the gold product surpassing that of any other State or Territory. More than one hundred million dollars have been taken from the mines of Montana since the discovery of gold in this territory in 1862. Coal appears upon the Yellowstone in veins ten, fifteen, and twenty feet in thickness. It is found on the Big Horn and on the Missouri.

"From the mouth of the Big Horn," says Professor Hayden, "to the union of the Yellowstone with the Missouri, nearly all the way, lignite (coal) beds occupy the whole country.... The beds are well developed, and at least twenty or thirty seams are shown, varying in purity and thickness from a few inches to seven feet" (Report, p. 59).

The mountains are covered with wood, and there will be no lack of fuel in Montana. The timber lands of this Territory are estimated by the Land Commissioner to cover nearly twelve millions of acres,—an area as large as New Hampshire and Vermont combined. The agricultural land, or land that may be ploughed, is estimated at twenty-three million acres, nearly as much as is contained in the State of Ohio. The grazing lands are put down at sixty-nine millions,—or a region as large as New York, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey together!

Isn't it cold? Are not the winters intolerable? Are not the summers short in Montana? Many times the questions have been asked.

The temperature of the climate in winter will be seen from the following thermometrical record kept at Virginia City:—

The summer climate is exceedingly agreeable, and admirably adapted to fruit culture.

In July last Mr. Milnor Roberts, Mr. Thomas Canfield, and other gentlemen of the Pacific exploring party, were in Montana. Mr. Roberts makes our mouths water by his description of the fruits of that Territory.

"Missoula," he says, "is a thriving young town near the western base of the Rocky Mountains, containing a grist-mill, saw-mill, two excellent stores, and from twenty-five to thirty dwellings, a number of them well built. I visited McWhirk's garden of five acres, where I found ripe tomatoes, watermelons, muskmelons, remarkably fine potatoes, beans, peas, and squashes; also young apple-trees and other fruit-trees, and a very fine collection of flowers; and all this had been brought about from the virgin soil in two years, and would this year (1869) yield the owner over two thousand dollars in gold, the only currency known in Montana" (Report, p. 23).

This fruit and flower garden is about one hundred miles from the top of the divide between the Atlantic and the Pacific.

Deer Lodge City, fifteen miles from the dividing ridge, is situated in the Deer Lodge Valley, and its attractions are thus set forth by Mr. Roberts:—

"The Deer Lodge Valley is very wide, in places ten to fifteen miles from the hills on one side to the hills on the other, nearly level, and everywhere clothed with rich grass, upon which we observed numerous herds of tame cattle and horses feeding. The Deer Lodge Creek flows through it, and adds immensely to its value as an agricultural region. Some farms are cultivated; but farming is yet in its infancy, and there are thousands of acres of arable land here and elsewhere in Montana awaiting settlement" (p. 25).

West of Montana is Idaho, containing eighty-six thousand square miles,—large enough for two States of the size of Ohio. Nearly all of this Territory lies north of the 43d parallel. It is watered by the Columbia and its tributaries,—mountain streams fed by melting snows.

"The mountains of Idaho," says the Land Commissioner, in his exhaustive Report for 1869, "often attain great altitude, having peaks rising above the line of perpetual snow, their lower slopes being furrowed with numerous streams and alternately clothed with magnificent forests and rich grasses. The plains are elevated table-lands covered with indigenous grasses, constituting pasturage unsurpassed in any section of our country. Numerous large flocks of sheep and herds of domestic cattle now range these pastures, requiring but little other sustenance throughout the entire year, and no protection from the weather other than that afforded by the lower valleys or the caÑons, in which many of the streams take their way through the upland country. The valleys are beautiful, fertile depressions of the surface, protected from the searching winds of summer and searching blasts of winter, each intersected by some considerable stream, adjoining which on either bank, and extending to the commencement of the rise of table-land or mountain, are broad stretches of prairies or meadows producing the richest grasses, and with the aid of irrigation, crops of grain, fruit, and vegetables superior to those of any of the Eastern States, and rivalling the vegetation of the Mississippi Valley. The pastures of these valleys are generally uncovered with snow in the most severe winters, and afford excellent food for cattle and sheep, the herbage drying upon the stalk during the later summer and autumn months into a superior quality of hay. As no artificial shelter from the weather is here required for sheep or cattle, stock-raising is attended with but little outlay and is very profitable, promising soon to become one of the greatest sources of wealth in this rapidly developing but still underrated Territory. It was considered totally valueless except for mining purposes, and uninviting to the agriculturist, until emigration disclosed its hidden resources.

"It is the favorite custom of herdsmen in Idaho to reserve their lower meadows for winter pastures, allowing the stock to range the higher plains during spring, summer, and autumn; the greater extent of the table-lands, and the superior adaptability of the valleys for agriculture presenting reasons for the adoption of this method as one of economical importance.

"The climate of Idaho varies considerably with the degrees of latitude through which its limits extend, but not so much as would naturally be supposed from its great longitudinal extension; the isothermal lines of the Territory, running from east to west, have a well-defined northward variation, caused by the influence of air currents from the Pacific Ocean. Throughout the spring, summer, and autumn months, in the northern as well as the southern sections, the weather is generally delightful and salubrious; in the winter months the range of the thermometer depends greatly upon the altitude of the surface,—the higher mountains being visited by extreme cold and by heavy falls of snow; the lower mountain-ranges and the plains having winters generally less severe than those of northern Iowa and Wisconsin or central Minnesota, while greater dryness of the atmosphere renders a lower fall of the thermometer less perceptible; and the valleys being rarely visited by cold weather, high winds, or considerable falls of snow. Considered in its yearly average, the climate is exactly adapted to sheep-growing and the production of wool, the herding of cattle, and manufacture of dairy products, the raising of very superior breeds of horses, as well as the culture of all Northern varieties of fruits, such as apples, pears, plums, cherries, peaches, grapes, and all of the ordinary cereals and vegetables" (p. 164).

This is all different from what we have conceived the Rocky Mountains to be.

When the government reports of the explorations of 1853 were issued, Jeff Davis was Secretary of War, and he deliberately falsified the report of Governor Stevens's explorations from Lake Superior to the valley of the Columbia. Governor Stevens reported that the route passed through a region highly susceptible of agriculture; but the Secretary of War, even then plotting treason, in his summary of the advantages of the various routes, asserted that Governor Stevens had overstated the facts, and that there were not more than 1,000 square miles, or 640,000 acres, of agricultural lands. The Land Commissioner in his Report estimates the amount of agricultural lands at 16,925,000 acres. The amount of improved lands in Ohio in 1860 was 12,665,000 acres, or more than 4,000,000 less than the available agricultural lands in Idaho. These are lands that need no irrigation. Of such lands there are 14,000,000 acres, which, in the language of the Commissioner, are "redeemable by irrigation into excellent pasture and agricultural lands." The grazing-lands are estimated at 5,000,000 acres, the timbered lands at 7,500,000 acres, besides 8,000,000 acres of mineral lands. Although the population of Idaho probably does not exceed 50,000, half of whom are engaged in mining, the value of the agricultural products for 1868 amounted to $12,000,000, while the mineral product was $10,000,000.

Passing on to Oregon we find a State containing 95,000 square miles, two and a half times larger than Ohio.

"Oregon," says General Wilson, in his Report upon the public lands, "is peculiarly a crop-raising and fruit-growing State, though by no means deficient in valuable mineral resources. Possessing a climate of unrivalled salubrity, abounding in vast tracts of rich arable lands, heavily timbered throughout its mountain ranges, watered by innumerable springs and streams, and subject to none of the drawbacks arising from the chilling winds and seasons of aridity which prevail farther south, it is justly considered the most favored region on the Pacific slope as a home for an agricultural and manufacturing population" (p. 197).

Of "western Oregon," he says, "the portion of the State first settled embraces about 31,000 square miles, or 20,000,000 acres, being nearly one third of the area of the whole State, and contains the great preponderance of population and wealth. Nearly the whole of this large extent of country is valuable for agriculture and grazing; all of the productions common to temperate regions may be cultivated here with success. When the land is properly cultivated, the farmer rarely fails to meet with an adequate reward for his labors. The fruits produced here, such as apples, pears, plums, quinces, and grapes, are of superior quality and flavor. Large quantities of apples are annually shipped to the San Francisco market, where they usually command a higher price than those of California, owing to their finer flavor.

"The valleys of the Willamette, Umpqua, and Rouge Rivers, are embraced within this portion of the State, and there is no region of country on the continent presenting a finer field for agriculture and stock-raising, because of the mildness of the climate and the depth and richness of the soil. Farmers make no provision for housing their cattle during winter, and none is required; although in about the same latitude as Maine on the Atlantic, the winter temperature corresponds with that of Savannah, Georgia" (p. 194).

North of Oregon lies the Territory of Washington, containing 70,000 square miles, lacking only 9,000 to make it twice as large as Ohio.

Our camp, where I am taking this westward look, is pitched very near the 47th parallel, may be five or six miles north of it. If I were to travel due west along the parallel a little more than twelve hundred miles, I should reach Olympia, the capital of the Territory, situated on Puget Sound,—the name given to that vast ramification of waters known as the Strait of Juan de Fuca, Admiralty Inlet, Hood's Canal, and Puget Sound, with a shore line of 1,500 miles.

"There is no State in the Union," says the Land Commissioner, "and perhaps no country in the world of the same extent, that offers so many harbors and such excellent facilities for commerce" (p. 198).

The timbered lands of Washington are approximately estimated at 20,000,000 acres, and the prairie lands cover an area equally great. The forests embrace the red and yellow pine of gigantic growth, often attaining the height of three hundred feet, and from nine to twelve feet in diameter. It is said that a million feet have been cut from a single acre! Says the Commissioner, "The soil in the river-bottoms is thinly timbered with maple, ash, and willow. These lands yield heavy crops of wheat, barley, and oats, while vegetables attain enormous size. The highlands are generally rolling, and well adapted to cultivation.... The average yield of potatoes to the acre is six hundred bushels, wheat forty, peas sixty, timothy-hay five tons, and oats seventy bushels" (p. 199).

Mr. Roberts, who explored this region last year, says that the great plain of the Columbia is "a high rolling prairie, covered everywhere abundantly with bunch-grass to the summits of the highest hills; treeless, excepting along the streams. This is an immense grazing area of the most superior character, interspersed with the valleys of perennial streams, along which are lands that, when settled by industrious farmers, will be of the most productive character, as we have seen in the case of a number of improvements already made; while the climate is not only salubrious, but remarkably attractive" (Report, p. 19).

He gives this estimate of the area suited to agriculture and grazing:—

"In Washington Territory alone, on its eastern side, there are at least 20,000 square miles, or 12,800,000 acres of the finest grazing-lands, on which thousands of cattle and sheep will be raised as cheaply as in any other quarter of the globe, and this grass is so nutritious that the cattle raised upon it cannot be surpassed in their weight and quality. Snow rarely falls to sufficient depth to interfere seriously with their grazing all through the winter. Such may be taken as a general view upon this important point, respecting a Territory nearly half as large as the State of Pennsylvania" (p. 19).

Along the shores of Puget Sound, and on the island of Vancouver, are extensive deposits of bituminous coal, conveniently situated for the future steam-marine of the Pacific. Large quantities are now shipped to San Francisco for the use of the Pacific mail-steamers.

Not only in Washington, but up the coast of British Columbia, the coal-deposits crop out in numerous places.

An explorer on Simpson River, which next to the Fraser is the largest in British Columbia, thus writes to Governor Douglas: "I saw seams of coal to-day fifteen feet thick, better than any mined at Vancouver" (Parliamentary Blue-Book).

Coal in Montana, in Idaho, in Washington, on Vancouver, in British Columbia; coal on the Missouri, the Yellowstone, the Columbia, the Fraser; coal on Simpson River, coal in Alaska! Measureless forests all over the Pacific slope! Timber enough for all the world, masts and spars sufficient for the mercantile marine of every nation! Great rivers, thousands of waterfalls, unequalled facilities for manufacturing! An agricultural region unsurpassed for fertility! Exhaustless mineral wealth! Fisheries equalling those of Newfoundland,—salmon in every stream, cod and herring abounding along the coast! Nothing wanting for a varied industry.

Unfold the map of North America and look at its western coast. From Panama northward there is no harbor that can ever be available to the commerce of the Pacific till we reach the Bay of San Francisco. From thence northward to the Columbia the waves of the sea break against rugged mountains. The Columbia pours its waters through the Coast Range, but a bar at its mouth has practically closed it to commerce. Not till we reach Puget Sound do we find a good harbor. North of that magnificent gateway are numberless bays and inlets. Like the coast of Maine, there is a harbor every five or ten miles, where ships may ride in safety, sheltered from storms, and open at all seasons of the year. There never will be any icebound ships on the coast of British Columbia, for the warm breath of the tropics is felt there throughout the year.

While the map is unfolded, look at Puget Sound, and think of its connection with Japan and China. Latitude and longitude are to be taken into account when we make long journeys. Liverpool is between the 53d and 54th parallels, or about two hundred and sixty miles farther north than Puget Sound, where a degree of longitude is only thirty-five miles in length. Puget Sound is on the 49th parallel, where the degrees are thirty-eight and a half miles in length. San Francisco is near the 37th parallel, where the degrees are nearly forty-nine miles in length. Liverpool is three degrees west of Greenwich, from which longitude is reckoned. The 122d meridian passes through Puget Sound and also through the Bay of San Francisco. It follows from all this that the distance from Liverpool in straight lines to these two magnificent gateways of the Pacific, in geographical miles, is as follows:—

Looking across the Pacific we see that Yokohama is on the 35th parallel, where a degree of longitude is forty-nine miles in length. Reckoning the distance across the Pacific between Yokohama and the western gateways of the continent, we have this comparison:—

Adding these differences together, we see that longitude alone makes a total of nine hundred and fifty-four miles in favor of Puget Sound between Liverpool and Yokohama. When the Northern Pacific Railroad is completed, Chicago will be fully six hundred miles nearer Asia by Puget Sound than by San Francisco.

Vessels sailing from Japan to San Francisco follow the Kuro-Siwo, the heated river, which of itself bears them towards Puget Sound at the rate of eighty miles a day. They follow it into northern latitudes till within three or four hundred miles of the coast of British Columbia, then shape their course southward past Puget Sound to the Golden Gate.

In navigation, then, Asia is nearly, if not quite, one thousand miles nearer the ports of Puget Sound than San Francisco. The time will come when not only Puget Sound, but every bay and inlet of the northwest coast, will be whitened with sails of vessels bringing the products of the Orient, not only for those who dwell upon the Pacific slope, but for the mighty multitude of the Empire of the Northwest, of the Mississippi Valley, and the Atlantic States.

From those land-locked harbors steamships shall depart for other climes, freighted with the products of this region, spun and woven, hammered and smelted, sawed and planed, by the millions of industrious workers who are to improve the unparalleled capabilities of this vast domain.

There is not on the face of the globe a country so richly endowed as this of the Northwest. Here we find every element necessary for the development of a varied industry,—agricultural, mining, manufacturing, mercantile, and commercial,—all this with a climate like that of southern France, or central and northern Europe.

"The climate," says Mr. Roberts, "of this favored region is very remarkable, and will always remain an attractive feature; which must, therefore, aid greatly in the speedy settlement of this portion of the Pacific coast. Even in the coldest winters there is practically no obstruction to navigation from ice; vessels can enter and depart at all times; and the winters are so mild that summer flowers which in the latitude of Philadelphia, on the Atlantic coast, we are obliged to place in the hot-house, are left out in the open garden without being injured. The cause of this mildness is usually, and I think correctly, ascribed to the warm-water equatorial current, which, impinging against the Pacific coast, north of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, passes along nearly parallel with the shore, diffusing its genial warmth over the land far into the interior. Of the fact there is no doubt, whatever may be the cause" (Report, p. 14).

The climate of eastern Washington, amid the mountains, corresponds with that of Pennsylvania; but upon the sea-coast and along the waters of Puget Sound roses blossom in the open air throughout the year, and the residents gather green peas and strawberries in March and April.

In a former view we looked at the territory belonging to Great Britain lying east of the Rocky Mountains, we saw its capabilities for settlement; but far different in its physical features is British Columbia from the Saskatchawan country. It is a land of mountains, plains, valleys, and forests, threaded by rivers, and indented by bays and inlets. The main branch of the Columbia rises in the British Possessions, between the Cascade Range and the Rocky Mountains. There is a great amphitheatre between those two ranges, having an area of forty-five thousand square miles. We hardly comprehend, even with a map spread out before us, that there is an area larger than Ohio in the basin drained by the northern branch of the Columbia. But such is the fact, and it is represented as being a fertile and attractive section, possessed of a mild and equable climate. The stock-raisers of southern Idaho drive their cattle by the ten thousand into British Columbia to find winter pasturage.

The general characteristics of that area have been fully set forth in a paper read before the Royal Geographical Society of London by Lieutenant Palmer of the Royal Engineers. He says:—

"The scenery of the whole midland belt, especially of that portion of it lying to the east of the 124th meridian, is exceedingly beautiful and picturesque. The highest uplands are all more or less thickly timbered, but the valleys present a delightful panorama of woodland and prairie, flanked by miles of rolling hills, swelling gently from the margin of streams, and picturesquely dotted with yellow pines. The forests are almost entirely free from underwood, and with the exception of a few worthless tracts, the whole face of the country—hill and dale, woodland and plain—is covered with an abundant growth of grass, possessing nutritious qualities of the highest order. Hence its value to the colony as a grazing district is of the highest importance. Cattle and horses are found to thrive wonderfully on the 'bunch' grass, and to keep in excellent condition at all seasons. The whole area is more or less available for grazing purposes. Thus the natural pastures of the middle belt may be estimated at hundreds, or even thousands, of square miles.

"Notwithstanding the elevation, the seasons exhibit no remarkable extremes of temperature; the winters, though sharp enough for all the rivers and lakes to freeze, are calm and clear, so that the cold, even when most severe, is not keenly felt. Snow seldom exceeds eighteen inches in depth, and in many valleys of moderate elevation cattle often range at large during the winter months, without requiring shelter or any food but the natural grasses.... Judging from present experience, there can be no doubt that in point of salubrity the climate of British Columbia excels that of Great Britain, and is indeed one of the finest in the world."

In regard to the agricultural capabilities of this mountain region, the same author remarks:—

"Here in sheltered and well-irrigated valleys, at altitudes of as much as 2,500 feet above the sea, a few farming experiments have been made, and the results have thus far been beyond measure encouraging. At farms in the San JosÉ and Beaver valleys, situated nearly 2,200 feet above the sea, and again at Fort Alexander, at an altitude of 1,450 feet, wheat has been found to produce nearly forty bushels to the acre, and other grain and vegetable crops in proportion.... It may be asserted that two thirds at least of this eastern division of the central belt may, when occasion arrives, be turned to good account either for purposes of grazing or tillage."

Probably there are no streams, bays, or inlets in the world that so abound with fish as the salt and fresh waters of the northwest Pacific. The cod and herring fisheries are equal to those of Newfoundland, while every stream descending from the mountains literally swarms with salmon.

In regard to the fisheries of British Columbia, Lieutenant Palmer says:—

"The whole of the inlets, bays, rivers, and lakes of British Columbia abound with delicious fish. The quantity of salmon that ascend the Fraser and other rivers on the coast seems incredible. They first enter Fraser and other rivers in March, and are followed in rapid succession by other varieties, which continue to arrive until the approach of winter; but the great runs occur in July, August, and September. During these months so abundant is the supply that it may be asserted without exaggeration, that some of the smaller streams can hardly be forded without stepping upon them." (Journal of the Geographical Society.)

Ah! wouldn't it be glorious sport to pull out the twenty-five-pounders from the foaming waters of the Columbia,—to land them, one after another, on the grassy bank, and see the changing light upon their shining scales! and then sitting down to dinner to have one of the biggest on a platter, delicately baked or boiled, with prairie chicken, plover, pigeon, and wild duck! We will have it by and by, when Governor Smith and Judge Rice, who are out here seeing about the railroad, get the cars running to the Pacific; they will supply all creation east of the Rocky Mountains with salmon! There are not many of us who can afford to dine off salmon when it is a dollar a pound, and the larger part of the crowd can never have a taste even; but these railroad gentlemen will bring about a new order of things. When they get the locomotive on the completed track, and make the run from the Columbia to Chicago in about sixty hours, as they will be able to do, all hands of us who work for our daily bread will be able to have fresh salmon at cheap rates.

What a country! I have drawn a hypothetical line from Milwaukie to the Pacific,—not that the region south of it—Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska, or California—does not abound in natural resources, with fruitful soil and vast capabilities, but because the configuration of the continent—the water-systems, the mountain-ranges, the elevations and depressions, the soil and climate—is in many respects different north of the 43d parallel from what it is south of it. We need not look upon the territory now held by Great Britain with a covetous eye. The 49th parallel is an imaginary line running across the prairies, an arbitrary political boundary which Nature will not take into account in her disposition of affairs in the future. Sooner or later the line will fade away. Railway trains—the constant passing and repassing of a multitude of people speaking the same language, having ideas in common, and related by blood—will rub it out, and there will be one country, one people, one government. What an empire then! The region west of Lake Michigan and north of the latitude of Milwaukie—the 43d parallel extended to the Pacific—will give to the nation, to say nothing of Alaska Territory, forty States as large as Ohio, or two hundred States of the size of Massachusetts!

I have been accustomed to look upon this part of the world as being so far north, so cold, so snowy, so distant,—and all the other imaginary so's,—that it never could be available for settlement; but the facts show that it is as capable of settlement as New York or New England,—that the country along the Athabasca has a climate no more severe than that of northern New Hampshire or Maine, while the summers are more favorable to the growing of grains than those of the northern Atlantic coast.

It is not, therefore, hypothetical geography. Following the 43d parallel eastward, we find it passing along the northern shore of the Mediterranean, through central Italy, and through the heart of the Turkish Empire. Nearly all of Europe lies north of it,—the whole of France, half of Italy, the whole of the Austrian Empire, and all of Russia's vast dominions.

The entire wheat-field of Europe is above that parallel. The valleys of the Alps lying between the 46th and 50th parallels swarm with an industrious people; why may not those of the Rocky Mountains at the head-waters of the Missouri and Columbia in like manner be hives of industry in the future?

If a Christiania, a Stockholm, and a St. Petersburg, with golden-domed churches, gorgeous palaces, and abodes of comfort, can be built up in lat. 60 in the Old World, why may we not expect to see their counterpart in the New, when we take into account the fact that a heated current from the tropics gives the same mildness of climate to the northwestern section of this continent that the Gulf Stream gives to northern Europe?

With this outlook towards future possibilities, we see Minnesota the central State of the Continental Republic of the future.

With the map of the continent before me, I stick a pin into Minneapolis, and stretch a string to Halifax, then, sweeping southward, find that it cuts through southern Florida, and central Mexico. It reaches almost to San Diego, the extreme southwestern boundary of the United States,—reaches to Donner Pass on the summit of the Sierra Nevadas, within a hundred miles of Sacramento. Stretching it due west, it reaches to Salem, Oregon. Carrying it northwest, I find that it reaches to the Rocky Mountain House on Peace River,—to that region whose beauty charmed Mackenzie and Father De Smet. The Peace River flows through the Rocky Mountains, and at its head-waters we find the lowest pass of the continent. The time may come when we of the East will whirl through it upon the express-train bound for Sitka! It is two hundred miles from the Rocky Mountain House to that port of southern Alaska.

The city of Mexico is nearer Minneapolis by nearly a hundred miles than Sitka. Trinity Bay on the eastern coast of Newfoundland, Puerto Principe on the island of Cuba, the Bay of Honduras in Central America, and Sitka, are equidistant from Minneapolis and St. Paul.

When Mr. Seward, in 1860, addressed the people of St. Paul from the steps of the Capitol, it was the seer, and not the politician, who said:—

"I now believe that the ultimate last seat of government on this great continent will be found somewhere within a circle or radius not far from the spot on which I stand, at the head of navigation on the Mississippi River!"