| PART II.  The Country of the Saints.
1. CHAPTER I.  ON THE GREAT ALKALI PLAIN.
 IN the central portion of the great North American Continent 
 there lies an arid and repulsive desert, which for many a 
 long year served as a barrier against the advance of 
 civilisation.  From the Sierra Nevada to Nebraska, and from 
 the Yellowstone River in the north to the Colorado upon the 
 south, is a region of desolation and silence.  
 Nor is Nature always in one mood throughout this grim district.  
 It comprises snow-capped and lofty mountains, and dark and 
 gloomy valleys.  There are swift-flowing rivers which dash 
 through jagged canons; and there are enormous plains, which 
 in winter are white with snow, and in summer are grey with 
 the saline alkali dust.  They all preserve, however, 
 the common characteristics of barrenness, inhospitality, 
 and misery. There are no inhabitants of this land of despair.  A band of 
 Pawnees or of Blackfeet may occasionally traverse it in order 
 to reach other hunting-grounds, but the hardiest of the 
 braves are glad to lose sight of those awesome plains, and to 
 find themselves once more upon their prairies.  The coyote 
 skulks among the scrub, the buzzard flaps heavily through the 
 air, and the clumsy grizzly bear lumbers through the dark 
 ravines, and picks up such sustenance as it can amongst the 
 rocks.  These are the sole dwellers in the wilderness. In the whole world there can be no more dreary view than that 
 from the northern slope of the Sierra Blanco.  As far as the 
 eye can reach stretches the great flat plain-land, all dusted 
 over with patches of alkali, and intersected by clumps of the 
 dwarfish chaparral bushes.  On the extreme verge of the 
 horizon lie a long chain of mountain peaks, with their rugged 
 summits flecked with snow.  In this great stretch of country 
 there is no sign of life, nor of anything appertaining to 
 life.  There is no bird in the steel-blue heaven, no movement 
 upon the dull, grey earth -- above all, there is absolute 
 silence.  Listen as one may, there is no shadow of a sound in 
 all that mighty wilderness; nothing but silence -- complete 
 and heart-subduing silence. |