FARMING IN AMERICA.

Patea Mail, 20 January 1882, Page 1 (Supplement)

FARMING IN AMERICA.

A JRTTN- TSROZT CfIC NORTHERN DAKOTA. TO THE YELLOWSTONE IN MONTANA. Leaving the flourishing little city of Jamestown, the road leads straight west for Bismarck, on the Missouri River, 101 miles distant. The first twenty miles is a rolling prairie similar to that in the neighbourhood of Jamestown, having a considerable number of settlers scattered over it. The road then enters and winds about amongst the conical knolls and little lakes of the divide for a great many miles. This ridge between the James and the Missouri Rivers is known here as the Coteaus, and is no use unless for summer grazings. The produce of the hay sleughs being very limited and the ground too rough to cultivate it is almost entirely unsettled. A short distance down the Missouri side of the ridge and the large farm of Troy is reached. This is a considerable size of wheat ranche, with large buildings at the side of the road. The reaping was finished, and the crop had a very poor appearance in the stook. A collection of ten or a dozen self-binders were sitting at the side of the buildings, being indicative of a considerable breadth of wheat. The face of the surrounding country consisted of the usual rolling prairie, with a few scattered settlements all the way to Bismarck. This town is a thriving place, and was principally built up by its shipping interests on the Missouri and partly by being a railway terminus until lately that the Northern Pacific was pushed out to the Yellowstone, and, I have no doubt, to a considerable extent purging Bismarck of the rough scum which always hangs around those frontier posts and move along with the railways. The town has pretty fair buildings and a good hotel, good stores, and altogether is moderately substantial for a new town. There is a considerable breadth of wheat grown in the district, but tbe soil is sharp and dry, and the crops have suffered a little from drouth and the effect of severe hail-storms, and are not nearly so good as the James River valley crops. They grow splendid vegetables and garden produce generally in this neighbourhood, hut I would fancy had a light enough rainfall for growing wheat successfully on an average. The town is built about a mile from the Missouri River, which here flows down its muddy bed with a current of about two miles an hour. The bed of the stream is about half a mile broad, but the water is not more than half that breadth, and winds about amongst the muddy banks with many a devious turn, being very turbid and dirty. The bluffs sometimes approach the river, at other parts recede to the distance of several miles, leaving a flat alluvial bottom soil intervening. The valley is very sparsely wooded, and is not by any means what would be termed a pretty landscape. The Northern Pacific Railroad is building a handsome iron bridge across the river which is estimated to cost 1,000,000 dollars. At present the train is run over on a ferry boat with paddles driven independently by two separate engines. The arrangements for putting the train on board are of the most primitive kind, and not by any means of such a nature as to inspire a great amount of confidence in their stabililty. Reaching the Mandan side of the river, we got once more on terra firtna and pursued our westward course for Glendive, on the Yellowstone River, in Montana territory, 221 miles distant. This little town of Mandan is growing rapidly, and has quite a number of new buildings in course of construction. West from this point the road follows the course of a considerable creek, which it crosses and recrosses a number of times in a distance of thirty miles or so. There is a great sameness all the way for the next 100 miles, the physical appearance of the district being a roughly rolling prairie, with sharp conical hills here and there, which are denominated buttes. These conical hills look very peculiar rising from the rolling plains, and having no vegetation show the sedimentary strata of the soil, which appears to be nearly all the colours of the rainbow, frequent seams of lignite coal showing in the railway cuttings. These are wrought at several places to some extent for railway purposes. There are no settlements over this portion of the road, and I saw hardly any stock all the way through. The grass appeared to be plentiful enough to keep them during any summer. There did not appear to be any hay sleughs, and all the grass on these plains was buffalo gramma, bunch, arrowhead, and and other short grasses unsuitable for hay. This immense district can never become a good stock country until artificial winter keep can be raised. The only houses to be seen are usually one or two at the railway stations, and generally a large water tank with a windmill pump for watering the engines. The tanks are enormous circular tuns set on wooden trestles measuring about sixteen feet deep and the same in diameter. Our train stopped at a station called Pleasant Yalley for dinner. The ouly building was a little wooden shanty, with a cook-house at the back. We had over fifty psssengers on the train, and the place couldnot accommodate that number, the natural consequence being that a part had to wait while the others dined, a proceeding which seldom occupies more than ten or fifteen minutes. There was a shelf outside

with a pail of water, two little tin basins, one piece of soap, and one roller towel. This accommodation was considered sufficient to cleanse the fifty dirty begrimed passengers previous to dining. I need hardly say that in the majority of instances the dining preceded the washing, and it was comical to see the dismay of some dainty tourist when he surveyed the towel, which after a few turns had the appearance of a dirty, wet dish-cloth. The dinner was better than might have been expected under the circumstances, but fell a little short at the finish. The Pleasant Yalley is one of the prettiest pieces of prairie over the whole road west of the Missouri. An hour or two after leaving this we entered on a piece of country adjoining the Little Missouri River, which is well named the Bad Lands. The appearance of these broken, washed-down bluffs almost defies description, but they look barren indeed, and are well worthy of their name. The geological formation has a peculiar appearance. It seems to be regularly stratified layers of sandy clay, occasionally sandstone rock, and intervening beds of lignite coal. The coal seams are reported to vary from a few inches to 20 feet in thickness, and have burned themselves out, converting the clay into brick and giving a red, yellow, and variegated appearance to some of the cliffs. The coals are still on fire at several places, and where the railway cuts through one of these burnt-out seams the debris presents a very peculiar appearance, large masses being fused together by the heat. The appearance of these lumps led me to suppose that they were of recent volcanic origin, until I got the explanation at Little Missouri station, where they are mining them for the road. The coal is a soft lignite resembling a compressed peat, and decays very fast with exposure to the weather. The Little Missouri River is literally surrounded by these particoloured bluffs, and presents a very rugged and barren appearance at the place where the road crosses. There was a small cantonment of military under canvas at this point to protect the people from Indians, These Bad Land cliffs continued for intervals all the way for the next 60 miles to Glendive, with intervening belts of rolling prairie. There were no settlements and no stock visible, aud very little inducement to have either. The plains were covered with all the short grasses of the West, and the creek bottoms were clad with white sage brush. About 20 miles distant we catch the first view of the Yellowstone Bluffs, aud this magnificent valley and noble stream gradually come into view as the train creeps slowly over the last range of bluffs, and down below a few miles distant is seen the little town of Glendive, of two months growth, supported on the right and left by a cluster of conical snow white tents, betokening the presence of military, while across the river the white duck of a third encampment showed in bright contrast to the green foliage of the trees. On reaching Glendive we found the town to consist of about 100 habitations, aud composed about half and half of wood and canvas. The wooden buildings were of the roughest description. After supper I took a walk along the line of houses constituting the only street in the place, and found it contained 46 houses and tents all told, 23 of these being liquor saloons, three dancing places of the lowest type, and the balance dwelling-houses and stores, including the only hotel in the place, which is known as the “ Grand Pacific.” This hostelry is the most primitive one I have struck in my travels. It consists of a long wooden front building with a canvas roof; this is occupied by a liquor bar, billiard table, and writing table. Three wings of similar construction are built on the back of this, with communicating doors into the ends of each. The first contains the dining room and all the washing accommodation of the hotel in the shape of two basins, two towels, and a bucket of water. The next two wings are bedrooms —or rather, I ought to say, one bed-room—each with a solid row of beds placed along each side of the long building, with a passage down between. There is some slight attempt at a wood partition at one or two of the points to subdivide the accommodation, and a piece of canvas hung up in the shape of curtains, to ensure privacy for the lady guests of this magnificent establishment. Every bed is supposed to contain two people, and the beds number somewhere about fifty. The cooking is better than might have been expected. The first morning after my arrival I got up pretty early and walked out to inspect the town and see how the people of Glendive spent the Sunday. I directed my steps to the river, and found a number of people busy loading a river steamer, which was going up to Miles City, about 100 miles above, with grain, flour, beer, and general merchandise. As I approached the boat a commotion took place amongst the men on board. I heard a little swearing, a knock or two, and saw a man stagger over to the side of the boat, with the blood streamiug from his head, and holding his back. I learned, on inquiry, that two men had quarrelled ; one had struck with a club, the other drew his knife and cut at his opponent, who retaliated with an axe Both men were pretty badly hurt. I asked Dr. Burleigh, of Yankton, Dakota Territory, who dressed their wounds; about their injuries. He said the ona struck with the axe had got a knock on the head, two on the back,

and one on the leg. The Doctor told him that he had zrtet with, a great misfortune. The man replied he had. “ Yes,” returned the Doctor, “ in not being hilled outright.” ItU just possible the men did not agree with the medico on this point. In talking with the captain of the boat I learned that all all the scum, criminals, and roughs, follow the wake of the railway construction, and the Yellowstone valley has been flooded with this class during the summer. Certainly the class of labourers loading this boat were the most villainous lot of men I had ever seen together. I noticed one man take off 1 his hat, and his head was literally seamed with scars of old wounds. These men do not carry pistols like the same class in New Mexico and Arizona, or else the affair of the morning would have had a more tragic ending, but even without, they are a lawless band of roughs. No law is administered in this territory of Montana but by Judge Lynch. The general law of the United States is supposed to apply, but there is no one to administer it. It would be a very rough place were it not for the military. I met some of the officers over at the hotel in the early part of the day, and went to their camp and spent a very pleasant time for a few hours in the evening. I found them very pleasant, kind, and hospitable, and listened to a good many anecdotes of frontier life and Indian warfare. The military authorities all agree that the Indians would be quiet enough if honest agents were sent to the reservations to take charge of them. As the matter goes at present the agents are credited with appropriating the half of the supplies, and doling out the balance to the Indians. Hence there are continual disputes and wranglings. The Indians are reported by all those I have heard speak about them as being very treacherous and unreliable. These cantonments at Glendive are placed there to keep order as the road advances up the Yellowstone, The rails are laid 20 miles beyond Glendive, and the road is being rapidly pushed on at nearly two miles a-day. It is expected to reach Miles City, 100 miles up the river, by winter. The resident engineer’s office is on a freight car at Glendive. The business office is also in a freight car, and is run up to the front on pay-day. Both these offices are fitted up in the best style, and have a numerous class of officials. These have their bedding accommodation in the same car. A cooking car accompanies these cars for providing food for the staff. All these arrangements in connection with the pushing forward of the railway construction are of the most complete order, and are quite equalled by the systematic arrangement which is adopted to guide successfully the great army of workmen employed. This road is expected to connect with the Pacific coast in the course of two years from this time.