and party in one canoe, made of four buffalo skins, and two elk skins, and a wooden canoe made of green cottonwood, set sail down the Arkansas. Lieut. Wilkinson took with him four soldiers and two Osages. He had not gone far till he was obliged to abandon the canoes and march on foot, suffering greatly from cold. Lower down, he made some wooden boats, and with great trouble from floating ice and sand-bars, pursued his journey. He reached Arkansas Post on the 9th of January. The navigation of the Arkansas, in winter, is not a success.

Our traveler is now on the shores of the Arkansas. It is the last of October, and snow is falling almost every day. The party has been weakened by the departure of the second in command and a considerable portion of the force. If Pike goes south, he will obey his instructions, and will reach Red river. But he does not go south, but turns his face to the west, and follows the Arkansas. He is going to leave Kansas for Colorado.

Before he goes, let us sum up his opinion of Kansas. He had visited the "Border Tier;" he had seen the valley of the “Great Neosho;" he had crossed the Smoky Hill, and visited the valleys of the Solomon and Republican; and at this present moment, was in the western portion of the great Arkansas valley. And this is what he wrote:

"In this western traverse of Louisiana, the following general observations may be made. From the Missouri to the head of the Osage river, a distance in a straight line of probably three hundred miles, the country will admit of a numerous, extensive and compact population; from thence, on the rivers La Plate, Arkansaw and Kansas, and their various branches, it appears to me only possible to introduce a limited population. The inhabitants would find it most to their advantage to pay their attention to the raising of cattle, horses, sheep and goats, all of which they can raise

in abundance, the earth producing spontaneously sufficient for their support, both in winter and summer, by which means their herds might become immensely numerous; but the wood now in the country would not be sufficient for a moderate population more than fifteen years, and then it would be out of the question to think of using any of it in manufactories, consequently their houses would be built of mud bricks (like those in New Spain); but possibly time may make the discovery of coal mines, which would render the country habitable."

The proud Kansan of 1877 living in a "dobe" hut and tending goats! How was that for a prophecy?

Pike, though not a very devout person, saw something providential in this. He says:

"From these immense prairies may arise one great advantage to the United States, viz., the restriction of our population to certain limits, and thereby a continuation of the Union. Our citizens being so prone to rambling, and extending themselves on the frontiers, will, through necessity, be constrained to limit their extent on the west to the borders of the Missouri and Mississippi, while they leave the prairies, incapable of cultivation, to the wandering aborigines of the country."

If Pike were alive now, he might ask himself the question, "Does restriction restrict?"

It must be remembered, however, that Pike was a soldier, not a farmer. That he came into the country directly from the heavy woods of the Osage, which made the prairie seem more desolate; that in marching he kept the high and dry divides; and, furthermore, that nothing could be more monotonous than his method of traveling-creeping along all day between the green earth and the blue sky, or the brown earth and the gray sky, as the case might be, with but two men in the party with whom he could converse on terms of familiarity; harassed by anxiety; frequently at a loss as to his course, and finally lost altogether. It is not

strange that Pike did not indulge in the "gentle zephyr" line of remarks entirely proper to a Kansas real-estate agent of our time.

As Pike is now leaving Kansas, we might now take leave of him, but his brave young life, so quickly sped, was so crowded with incident, that I crave your patience while I mention as briefly as possible what further befell him.

It kept growing colder as he approached the mountains, following, as he did, the course of the Arkansas. He saw, for the first time, wild horses; he saw Indians frequently, and occasionally the trail of the Spanish expedition; and on the 15th of November he saw something else.

"At two o'clock in the afternoon," says he, "I thought I could distinguish a mountain to our right, which appeared like a small blue cloud; viewed it with a spy-glass, and was still more confirmed in my conjecture, yet only communicated it to Dr. Robinson, who was in front with me; but in half an hour it appeared in full view before us. When our small party arrived on the hill, they, with one accord, gave three cheers for the Mexican mountains."

What was before and around Pike at that moment, is thus described by a Kansas writer, once known to us as "Deane Monahan:"

"If you stand upon a certain bluff on the Purgatoire, you will be a spectator of a scene not easily forgotten in future wanderings. Eastward stretches dimly away the winding, sedgy valley of the dreariest river in the West-treeless, sandy, desolate. All around you are the endless undulations of the wilderness. Westward is something you anticipate rather than see-vague, misty forms lying upon the horizon. But while the world is yet dark around and below you, and there is scarce the faintest tinge of gray in the east, if you chance to look northward you see something crimson, high up against the sky. At first it is a roseate glow, shapeless

and undefined. Then it becomes a cloud castle, battlemented and inaccessible, draped in mist, and with a hovering curtain of changing purple. But as it grows whiter and clearer, the vague outlines of a mighty shape appear below it, stretching downward toward the earth. What you see is the lofty pinnacle which has gleamed first in the flying darkness, sun-kissed and glorified in the rosy mornings of all the centuries. It is Pike's Peak, sixty miles away."

Pike measured the altitude of the mountain afterwards named in his honor. He made out its height above the level of the prairie, to be 10,581 feet, and 18,581 feet above the sea. The journal says: "In our wanderings in the mountains from the 14th of November to the 27th of January, it was never out of our sight, except when we were in a valley." Pike, whose nearest approach to the Peak was fifteen miles, believed it to be inaccessible, but climbing it has been an everyday matter since a Kansas woman, Mrs. Julia Archibald Holmes, the first lady who ever attained the summit, set the brave example.

We will not dwell upon the days of cold and hunger which followed, when the emaciated men, clad only in summer clothes, dragged their frosted limbs through the gathering snow, while the poor starved, bruised horses, fell senseless in their tracks. Pike had wandered far from Red river, and pushing to the southwest, reached not that stream, but the Rio Grande del Norte. On the west fork of this stream he erected a stockade according to the principles of military art, for Pike was a soldier in everything, and here he was eventually captured by a force of Spanish troops, being informed that he was in Spanish territory. The party were marched in the direction of Santa Fé. The New-Mexican people were kind to the poor frozen, famished soldiers. At every house the women invited the party to stop and eat, and the old men

caused their daughters to dress the frozen feet of the northern strangers.

Mexico was then a splendid despotism. The blue-blooded Spaniard does not work himself, but he has great executive ability in making other people work. The Indians were reduced to slavery, the lower order of white people were but little better off, and all worked beneath the vigilant eye of the priest and soldier. Yet the country prospered. Those who know Mexico as it is now, can scarcely believe the stories Pike tells of its richness. His story must have sounded like an Arabian tale, in 1806, for at that time Mexico was farther off than Australia is now. Pike saw, at Santa Fé, James Pursley, said to be the first American who had penetrated to that point by way of the great Plains.

Pike was virtually a prisoner, his papers and instruments were taken from him, but he was kindly treated. He was escorted from place to place by a company of dragoons, the detachment being commanded for some time by Lieut. Malgares, who some time before had been looking for him in Kansas. Of this officer, 'Pike speaks in terms of admiration and affection. Pike never compromised his dignity. As an American soldier, he believed himself the peer of His Most Catholic Majesty the King of Spain. He was met as an equal by the Spanish officers; and so the little party of Americans marched from town to town along the sunny highways of Mexico. Pike received all sorts of presents. The Governor of one province sent him a shirt and neckcloth, with his compliments, wishing him to accept them, as they were made in Spain by his, the Governor's, sister, and had never been worn by any person. Pike and his men, after their terrible sufferings in the mountains, must have hugely enjoyed their trip in Mexico; and our gallant Captain, though said to be indifferent to the