374 ROCKY MOUNTAINS.
and to prevent serious accidents the engine of the train
is fitted in front with large fans to remove obstacles on
the line ; besides, during the whole time the train is in
motion, an unearthly sound, something like very loud
lowing, proceeds from the whistle to frighten away
cattle.
After leaving Ogden, the Union Pacific train recom
menced its ascent to cross the Rocky Mountains,—a
range of peculiar formation, often stretching for miles
in horizontal layers of bare rock, one above the other,
—and towards the evening we passed over an enormous
viaduct spanning the Green river, which, running
at right angles with the railway, the two form the
boundaries of four States,—Utah and Colorado to the
south, and Idaho and Wyoming to the north. The
scenery from the bridge was exceedingly pretty,—the
distant heights clothed in perpetual snow, a haze of
pink and purple reflecting the sunset, and deep blue at
the base, with many clear streams intersecting the
intervening plains. These latter are the home of the
antelope and the cinnamon bear, whose skin the
Indians offer for sale at the different halting places.
The summit, 8,242 feet above sea-level, we reached at
Sherman station. Within an hour more we had descended
2,200 feet, when we arrived at Cheyenne, an
important emigrant station. Thence we continued our
downward course until we touched the great thirsty
prairie, with its withered clump-grass struggling for an
existence. Here the dust became insufferable, until at
last we got to the rich and fertile plains of Nebraska,
where we passed many emigrant parties wending their
weary steps westward; at night these form an encampment
by placing horses and cattle around their wagons,
—a proof that there are no wild beasts in the district.
At Omaha we crossed the Missouri, and on its bank
a pretty red-brick villa, situated within the inclosures
of a park, was pointed out to me as the home of Mr.
Francis Train, who, some years previously, had made the
round of the globe within eighty days. Thence through
the great granaries, Iowa and Illinois, passing the
mighty Mississippi between Davenport and Rock Island,
—both large manufacturing towns,—and on to Chicago,
through a magnificent country resembling a succession
of vast English parks.
One sultry afternoon I ascended the fine flight of
steps of Sherman’s Hotel, since burnt down and
no doubt rebuilt, a grand place, doing honour to this
opulent neopolis. Those who have visited the house
will agree that there was nothing to g rum ble about
excepting the bill, which was double that of the
“ Grand ” at San Francisco. The town is well built,
and pleasantly situated on the shores of Lake Michigan ;;