of a travel-soiled mountaineer—to cheer my solitude, and inform me of his future plans, which were as follows:

He purposed obtaining fresher animals from the Quarter-master, reducing his party, and, by taking a short cut, go directly to Fort Leavenworth-all of which was sad news to me; for I had already determined that, in case of his immediate departure, I should be obliged to prolong my stay in Santa Fé until I should be sufficiently recruited to continue my journey by a longer and less expeditious route. But, as better might not be, we parted-he to the free air and exciting travel of the Great Prairies, and I to mope within my solitary room, with the dusty Plaza and its low adôbe walls to bound my prospect, and no better amusement than the study of character as I found it exhibited in the rougher speci mens of humanity who frequented the inn.

It was a joyful thing to me when that unwelcome visitor, the "influenza," once more permitted me to go abroad—a liberty which I was not slow to take advantage of, by visiting one of the principal Santa Fé traders, whose train was about returning to the frontiers of Missouri. This gentleman received me kindly, and on learning that I desired to accompany his party, offered me every facility for so doing.

As the train which I proposed traveling with was already en route, having advanced as far as the Mora, the usual starting point of the returning caravans, where it was only awaiting the arrival of wagons which were to leave the town early next day, I felt that I had no time to lose in preparing for my new start. So, after divers consultations with those versed in this, to me, novel kind of travel, I provided myself with a good stout mule, a buffalo horse, which I styled "Bucephalus " forthwith, and provisions for the trip in the shape of flour, bacon, hard bread, sugar, coffee, and so forth, each and all of which I found useful in thei: way.

It was not far from eight o'clock in the morning of a sultry July day that I mounted my "Bucephalus," who had been airing himself for the half hour previous in front of the hotel. As I had but two persons to say good-by to, my leave-taking was of the shortest. But in the case of Señor Juan, my old servant, whom I saw upon that sunshiny morning for the last time, I must confess that I experienced a greater feeling of regret than I had anticipated. He had, it is true, been with me but two calendar months, yet in that short period he had forded rivers, and traversed desert sands by my side; we had shivered in the same blast, burned beneath the same sun, and warmed ourselves by the same fire, until his image, uncouth and repulsive as it was, formed the back-ground of a thousand scenes not easily forgotten, and hang the fellow!made my voice a little husky as I gave him my hand for parting.

"Long Eben was the last to say farewell, which he did in his own peculiar style, the "Deöwn East" drawl being still predominantGood-by, Mister; and ef yeöu meet eny body on the road that's beönnd for Santa Fé yeōu may say that the United States Hotel is a dreadful fine place to stop at, won't you?"

It was with no feeling of regret that I lost sight of those piles of surdried brick which made up the larger portion of La Cuidad de Santa

Fe. I did not like the place, I could scarcely have said why. It may have bettered itself since, but it did not suit me then. It is possible that the life of wild excitement which I had been leading during my Rocky Mountain journeyings had unfitted me, in a measure, for its everyday realities. Be this as it may, I had had the blues, and, what is almost as bad, the influenza, in it; and once more upon my horse's back, with my rifle in my hand, and the fresh breezes from the broad prairies apon my cheek, I felt that I would not have reëntered it for any consid eration short of a positive order from my commanding officer.

Our travel that day was marked by no particular incident until our arrival at the Pecos, where we encamped for the night. During our detention at this point I examined some ruins in that vicinity, which I found highly interesting, not only from their antiquity, but from the historical events with which they are connected. As I am already indebted to Colonel Emory's report for original sketches of the ancient Aztec and Catholic church ruins, and as I find the substance of my own observations embodied in his journal, I shall take the liberty of quoting such facts as might prove explanatory or generally interesting. Under date of August 17th, 1846, he says:

"Pecos, once a fortified town, is built on a promontory or rock, somewhat in the shape of a foot. Here burned, until within seven years, the eternal fires of Montezuma; and the remains of the architecture exhibit, in a prominent manner, the engraftment of the Catholic Church upon the ancient religion of the country. At one end of the short spur forming the terminus of the promontory are the remains of the estúfa with all its parts distinct; at the other are the remains of the Catholic church, both showing the distinctive marks and emblems of the two religions. The fires from the estúfa burned, and sent their incense through the same altars from which was preached the doctrines of Christ. Two religions, so utterly different in theory, were here, as in all Mexico, blended in harmonious practice until about a century since, when the town was sacked by a band of Indians. Amidst the havoc of plunder of the city, the faithful Indian managed to keep his fire burning in the estúfa; and it was continued till, a few years since, the tribe became almost extinct. Their devotions rapidly diminished their numbers, until they became so few as to be unable to keep their immense estúfa (forty feet in diameter) replenished, when they abandoned the place and joined a tribe of the original race over the mountains, about sixty miles to the southward. There, it is said, to this day they keep up their fire, which has never yet been extinguished. The labor, watchfulness, and exposure to heat consequent upon the practice of the faith, is fast reducing the remnant of the Montezuma race, and a few years will, in all probability, see the last of this interesting people.

The crumbling remains of the modern church, with its crosses, its cells, its dark, mysterious corners and niches, differ but little from those of the present day in New Mexico. The architecture of the Indian portion of the ruins present peculiarities worthy of notice. Both are constructed of the same materials-the walls of sun-dried brick, and the

rafters of well-hewn timber, which could never have been shaped by the miserable little axes now employed by the Mexicans, which resemble in shape and size the wedges used by our farmers for splitting rails. The cornices and drops of the architrave in the modern church are elaborately carved with a knife."

How graphic a picture does this description present of the sincere and disinterested devotion of these zealous but deluded worshipers-a de lineation which, while it furnishes rich material for the exercise of a ro mantic imagination, affords much which should give rise to more serious reflections. On the one hand, it excites our ideality by producing to the mind's eye a representation of the scene. We behold the huge fires of the estúfa; we hear them roar and crackle as the silent watchers heap fresh fuel upon the blazing pile; we see the worn and wasted worshipers, whose hollow cheeks and attendant limbs bear the impress of their painful and long-continued vigils. We can follow in fancy, its devoted attendants, as year by year, and hour by hour, they fulfil their appointed tasks. We see them amid the summer's heat and in the winter's cold, shivering in the blast, or fainting beneath the sultry sun, as they go forth to procure the material with which to feed the flames. We can go with them during the long and dreary nights, when the exhausted Indian retires for a moment from the scene of his labors to cool his fevered brow and gaze upon those orbs, of whose mighty Creator he is so profoundly ignorant. We can be with him as he returns to renovate the dying. flame, working patiently for naught, while the dark hours come and go, though the night-winds blow, and the pale moon shines steadily without; and even while the "gray dawn" is lighting up the misty hills, while sweet birds are warbling their martin songs, and all nature is rejoicing in the advent of the new-born day. Yet still he keeps his watch, forgetful of the world, with its myriad beauties, the creation of that master hand whose works are so full of strength, and dignity, and glorious perfection.

And this is Fancy's view; but there are deeper thoughts connected with the theme. Is there, in the self-sacrificing adoration of these benighted children of Montezuma, no reproof to the weak and vacillating spirit? No rebuke to the lukewarm ardor of those who profess, in this our enlightened age, to worship one God in spirit and in truth? Truly this is a subject on which much could be written.

After our departure from the Pecos, we met with little in the way of incident or adventure which would be interesting if recorded here, save that some two days prior to our arrival at the Mora our teamsters celebrated the Fourth of July, and their own independence, by drinking an unlimited quantity of corn whisky, which ended in their getting most patriotically drunk; and calling into requisition the services of "Nigger Bill," little dried-up blackamoor, who on this occasion danced "Juba," "by particular request," to the sound of a violin played by an eccentric genius from Kentucky, whose musical talents had already obtained for him the soubriquet of "Kentuck the fiddler."

I derived, too, some satisfaction, while en route, from a visit to a Mexican rancho, where, as I attempted to carry on a conversation in English, they very naturally imagined that I understood no Spanish-a

belief which led them into the double error of supposing that I was just from "the States," and might therefore be desirous of purchasing one of those hairless, rat-tailed, New Mexican curs, which the Americans are in the habit of designating as "cast-iron dogs "an animal much valued in those regions as a sort of four-legged warming-pan, to which purpose these unlucky animals are frequently applied. The not very flattering conversation which ensued among its owners (who were anxious to cheat me, if it were possible), as well as their astonishment upon discovering that I had fully appreciated their remarks, afforded me no little amusement, which I finally enhanced by delivering my opinion of themselves and their "costumbres."

I was not sorry when we at length reached the Mora, the literal meaning of which is "mulberry; " but, though that fruit is found in its vicinity, I am inclined to believe, with Gregg, that it owes its appellation to some early settler of that name, from the fact that the New Mexicans always call it Rio de lo de Mora. Here we found the train, or rather trains-for they were three in number, though now consolidated, for the greater security which an increase of numbers would afford-only waiting for our arrival to make their final preparations and take up their line of march.

I must not forget to remark, that, during our short detention here, I noticed some very peculiar effects of mirage, or, as they are termed in prairie parlance, "false ponds; as also the appearance of one of those whirlwinds, which are common not only to the "great prairies," but to the sandy wastes of the "California Basin." So far as the whirlwind is concerned, the explanation is a simple one, the moving column being nothing more than a collection of the particles of dried grasses or dust, which have been taken up and carried forward by the eddying currents of air as I have seen water-spouts upon that less substantial plain, the The mirage is, however, not so easily accounted for. It has ever attracted attention, and excited much speculation, as well as no small difference of opinion, among the voyageurs upon the great prairies. For myself, I am inclined to concur in the opinion of a traveler, who says: "The philosohy of these false ponds' seem generally not well understood. They have usually been attributed to refraction, by which a section of the bordering sky would appear below the horizon. But there can be no doubt that they are the effect of reflection upon a gas emanating, perhaps, from the sun-scorched earth and vegetable matter. Or it may be that a surcharge of carbonic acid, precipitated upon the flats and sinks of these plains by the action of the sun, produces the effect. At least it appears of sufficient density, when viewed very obliquely, to reflect the objects beyond; and thus the opposite sky, being reflected in the pond of gas, gives the appearance of water. As & proof that it is the effect of reflection, I have often observed the distant trees and hilly protuberances which project above the horizon beyond distinctly inverted in the pond; whereas, were it the result of refraction, these would appear erect, only cast below the surface. Indeed, many are the singular atmospheric phenomena observable upon the plains, which would afford a field of interesting research for the curious natural philosopher."

PRAIRIE HUNTING..

The bison is peculiar to America, and probably before the arrival of Europeans roamed over most of the continent, as the early voyagers Irequently mention "wild bulls," and there is no other member of the ox tribe known to be native.

It has always been an animal of great value to the Indians, furnishing them with food, clothes, and dwellings; in fact, the Indians of the plains are entirely dependent on the buffalo, and when he fails in his annual migrations, they are reduced to starvation.

It is believed that all attempts to mingle permanently the blood of these desert-born cattle, with that of the domestic breed have proved unsuccessful. Like the offspring of the red and white races of man, they cannot be depended upon as civilized or tamed, but are apt, at the first chance, to take to the woods again.

Although a large and apparently formidable animal, the bison seems to be inferior in courage and ferocity to the wild cattle of Europe and It flies at the sight of man, and although when brought to bay will make a furious charge at the hunter, with a good horse this is easily evaded, and so mounted, a man can pick out the fattest of the herd with very little danger. Indeed, a scamper among the buffalo is now the common finish to a sporting tour in America, by the young gentlemen of England and their Boston and New York imitators. Salmon fishing in Nova Scotia, grouse shooting in Illinois, and buffalo hunting on the plains all requiring enough pluek to keep the Cocknies out.

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The range of the buffalo is still very extensive, from the Rocky Mountains on the West to within two hundred miles of the Mississippi on the East; and from Texas on the South to Lake Winnipec on the North.

The elk, or wapiti, is to be found, like the buffalo, on the great plains west of the Mississippi, which he seems to prefer to the timbered country.

There is great need of a standard work on American Mammalia. We have large and satisfactory books on our Ornithology; something has been done, and more is doing, on Icthyology, while the only work we have on the quadrupeds of America is that of Dr. Godman, which is much behind the present state of science.

The animal under consideration has been frequently confounded with the large deer of the timbered country, the cariboo, and this last again with the reindeer. The distinctions between these species have been ably pointed out by Mr. Herbert in his work on American Field Sports. The elk is domesticated without much difficulty, and has, we believe, frequently been trained to harness, for which its strength and speed are well adapted; while its clean and graceful limbs and splendid antlers would make a pair of elks, going a three-minute gait along the avenue, a real sporting team. To the parks of our country gentlemen the elk would form an appropriate ornament, while their flesh affords a delicious venison. The hunting of the elk and cariboo affords the finest sport