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haw, the Cheyenne, the "Digger," and the Lord only knows how many more tribes of Indians, nor held a pow-wow with these unsophisticated aboriginals; and my long cherished purpose to do this must be gratified. Besides, I wished to shake hands with my friend Brigham Young, and get a peep into his Haremnot knowing but the sight of the sacred plates, or of some Mormon beauty, might convert me to the latter revelations, and salt me down on the borders of the great lake of that name.

But, whatever brought me there-there I was, on the aforesaid 20th, in the desert, about a day's journey from New Fort Kearney, on the military route to Oregon, and about three hundred miles from my starting point on the Missouri River. I was well equipped for such a journey. A light carriage, drawn by two thoroughbreds, which as yet had shown no diminution of mettle or bottom, led the way. This was a regular multum in parvo, constructed after a plan of my own, at considerable expense, and was provided with appliances of comfort, means of defence, and sources of amusement, that would make the uninitiated wonder. Not a square inch of its interior but was hung with munitions of war, fishing tackle, books, &c. &c., not omitting all the essentials to a dear lover of the weed-alas! all destined, with the exception of my splendid meerschaum,-now hanging in triumph over the mantel,-vehicle, and all, to lie scattered in fragmentary confusion along the route. A large, four horse caravan-looking wagon, filled with provender for man and beast, cooking utensils, bedding, &c., followed. Besides these I had some spare animals for the saddle, and to supply the places of any which might give out. My companions were three active and hardy sons of the West, whom I had engaged to go with me for "aid and comfort."

The day had been cold and disagreeable; and warned by the black and lowering sky, and the gathering clouds, which portended a coming storm, I concluded to stop some time before the approach of evening. My tent was therefore pitched, and every thing made secure for the night, the horses turned out, and our hearty meal of bacon and hard bread concluded. It was not yet dark, when an infatuated desire of "passing an evening out" began to possess me. The monotony of the journey had become somewhat oppressive; my internal resources had begun to fail; Shakespeare did not seem quite so original as usual; and no one, who has

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any more impressibility than a Turk, can smoke all the time. My restlessness was undoubtedly increased by the knowledge of the fact that there were other encampments, in my immediate vicinity, of fellowtravellers wending their way Californiaward, on the same graceless errand with myself, who had also been admonished to secure quarters for the night before the storm broke upon them. I had formed the acquaintance of some of them, in the excursions which I was accustomed to make from my own party, on horseback, in search of amusement, and of the "variety which is the spice of life," especially on such a journey. The previous day I had thus fallen in with a Dr. Cof St. Louis, and his amiable and accomplished lady, who were braving the fatigues of a journey" across lots" to San Francisco, where I trust he is now reaping a rich harvest of professional success. His tent I supposed to be about a mile from my own, and I pined for the society I had found so congenial. So, encasing myself in an India Rubber suit, and paying no heed to the warnings of my companions, or the still, small voice of presentiment in my own breast, I set out on foot for the Doctor's. The ground over which I had to pass was undulating and broken, and meeting several ravines filled with stagnant water, I was compelled to make quite a detour in order to reach his camp. I found my friends "at home," and was received with a most cordial welcome and graceful hospitality.

The evening passed away rapidly, in familiar and pleasant talk about home and friends, our mutual adventures and future prospects, and afforded a social enjoyment of which civilized balls, routs and reunions can give but a faint idea. The increasing storm, however, which made itself heard above our cheerful voices, and which shook with violence our frail canopy, admonished me that it was time to return to my own camp, if I designed to go at all that night. My friends urged me to stay; but, as a person occupies more space lying down than sitting up, I doubted the feasibility of the project, as there was no peg to hang on, or post to lean against. So I said, "no, I thank "with a most you, determined tone, though not without some little faintness of heart, and sallied forth upon the invisible expanse. and such a night! It was darker than Erebus and Egypt together. The wind was blowing in fierce and fitful gusts, the rain pouring down in torrents. Altogether, it was as fearful a storm and as uncomfortable a night as had ever fallen within the

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range of my experience in different quarters of the globe. Few pedestrians would willingly encounter the fury of such a storm even in the streets of a great city.

On first emerging from the shelter of a good tent, I was saluted by a blast of wind and rain that actually staggered me, and drove me temporarily back. My hospitable friends then absolutely insisted upon it that I should pass the night with them. It would be a suicidal tempting of Providence, they said, to think of reaching my camp, and I would certainly lose my way. But a foolish feeling of pride would not allow me to listen to their pressing entreaties or warning remonstrances. I was an old sailor, I told them, and my nautical experience would enable me to find my way, especially as I had carefully noted the direction of the wind as I came along. Besides, I thought it was not altogether improbable that a stampede of my own animals might take place on so tempestuous a night-in which case I should be sorry to be absent. Alas! how little I dreamed of the suffering and anguish which my reckless self-confidence and foolish conceit of my own skill were to cause me!

"Let him who wanders by a devious way,
Look to his reckoning-or wide astray

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His barque may veer on peril's fatal track." The Doctor, finding that I would not be persuaded, held a lantern for me at the entrance of his tent, that I might occasionally look back and take my "departure from it. So I wrapped yet closer my poncho about me, and set forth on my perilous journey with a stout heart and a cheerful "good night. "" I designed to keep the wind about "two points on the starboard quarter" of my nose, but I was obliged to deviate from a straight line to avoid the gulches of which I have before spoken, which soon caused me to lose sight of the cheering and guiding light behind, and I had no other resource than to keep on to the best of my judgment, though I could not help the growing feeling that I was decidedly "in for it." As I was walking along at as rapid a gait as was consistent with proper caution, I suddenly felt the earth crumbling beneath my feet, and, before I could recover myself, was precipitated some fifteen feet down a ravine, and landed in a ditch, the water of which was nearly to my waist when standing up, which was not exactly my position when I touched bottom. I came down with a perfect facility-but to scramble up the steep and slippery bank, like the ascent from a more classic region-hic labor, hoc opus fuit.

After several ineffectual attempts, which resulted in a mortifying failure, and which considerably damped my courage and pantaloons, I at length succeeded in reaching terra firma; and there I was-lost consciously, as I had been before in reality-my pride all gone-and my courage oozing, with the water, out of my dripping garments. Need I be ashamed to own it? I bellowed most lustily for assistance; ringing reiterated changes upon help! fire! murder! and all the similar exclamations which have been canonized in the use of respectable distressed persons since the invention of our mother tongue.

I knew that there were camps not very far distant, and had a slight hope that the occupants of some one of them might hear me. But the hope was vain. Though I called-nay, even howled-" they answered not again." At length, to my inexpressible relief I heard, as I supposed, the whining of a dog. Was it indeed this? or did my ears deceive me? Noin the lull of the storm, I heard it yet more distinctly. In such a place, on such a night, the bark of "mine enemy's dog, though he had bit me," would have seemed friendly, and I followed the sound. As I advanced, however, it appeared to recede, until a growl that I well understood filled me with consternation. audible ignis fatuus that I had been pursuing was a prairie wolf. I knew well that this animal seldom, if ever, made an attack upon a man, except when rendered desperate by hunger; but still, to a lost traveller, in the midst of Egyptian darkness, and in such a lonely and strange spot, wolf-tones are calculated to create any thing but agreeable sensations, especially when he is familiar with veracious accounts of their chasing Russian sledgedrivers and tasting their quality.

The

There was no hope of rescue for the night, and the only thing that remained to me was to make myself as comfortable as I could, where I was, until morning. I sat down, made a sort of marquée tent of my poncho, by drawing it over my head and putting my arms a-kimbo, pulled out from the capacious pockets of my large vest, made expressly for this journey, the inseparable companion of all my excursions, mine incomparable meerschaum (I had it "jury-rigged" at such times, as the long, Weichsel stem was inconvenient to carry), some tobacco, and a bunch of matches which were well protected from the water, and soon surrounded myself with the comforts of an Irish cabin, the pleasant volume rolling

"AN

SKETCHES IN A PARIS CAFÉ.

ND besides, Monsieur, all the talents dine there!"

"I will certainly come. Where shall we meet ? What say you to the Galerie d'Orleans, for there one's sheltered from the vicissitudes of this fickle season, and, in its winter's throng, the faithless watches are never execrated. But what hour shall we meet? which is the best hour for seeing "all the talents" at your restaurant?

"Six o'clock. God protect you!" "Until our next meeting."*

Some two winters ago, chance placed me at the right corner end of the large half-circle the orchestra makes in its middle, in the Grand Opera. The musician nearest to me was a young violinist about twenty years old. The opera given that night was M. Auber's failure (Homer himself sometimes sleeps) L'Enfant Prodigue. It had then reached its thirtieth night. The orchestra were long since tired of it. It is the custom of the artists of the orchestra when they feel little or no interest in the evening's piece to pass away as much time as they can by reading some book or another. They have heard the piece so often (for before it appears to the public it has been rehearsed many hundreds of times), that some of the older musicians never think of taking their eyes off their book during the whole evening, but when they have to play, they install the work they are reading on the stand by the side of the score, and play away with all their might while they are devouring some pictured page of Sir Walter Scott or Fenimore Cooper, or some animated and brilliant story of M. Alexandre Dumas. There are some ennuyés in the orchestra these authors no longer divert. An old bass-violinist has been pointed out to me as having mastered the Hebrew language while thus whiling away his time. A kettle-drummer (the one on the extreme right of the stage) is noted for his knowledge of the Russian. The cymbal-beater has made a considerable progress in the Sanscrit, and the triangle man is a proficient in the Coptic language and hieroglyphics.

the type was of a very small character.
Our arms touched several times during the
evening: the interchange of civilities these
accidents produced was more than enough
to afford facility to engage in a sustained
conversation. After remarking upon the
weariness he must feel by hearing the
same music every day and night for
months, I soon had an opportunity to in-
quire the name of the book he was read-
ing, and having been long accustomed to
the ruthless murders the Frenchmen com-
mit on foreign names, I instantly recog-
nized in "Weelyam Shaaspee" the great
dramatic bard of England. The young
violinist had exhausted his maternal
literature, and he had (so he said) made
sufficient progress in the English language
to dare to swim through Shakespeare's
pages uncorked with a translation.
of course, thought Shakespeare sublime-
every body does. I did not take the
trouble to inquire if he understood him ;
I have abandoned for many years making
those inquiries of Frenchmen as being a
mere waste of time. I have since had
reason to think that his knowledge of Eng-
lish extended a very little ways beyond
"Yes," and "How do you do."

He,

Our conversation lasted, with short intervals, some hours; he talked with the freedom of youth, of artist's youth, glad to find a patient ear to listen to its story; while I, talking enough to draw him out, listened and talked with the interest I feel in every thing in this world, except the Multiplication Table and the Rule of Three. Before the curtain fell, we exchanged cards, and I went the next day to see him. Our acquaintance ripened soon into something like intimacy. One day happening to have rather more money than I usually can boast, I determined to dine at the Trois Frères Provençaux, partly because I was tired of the fixedprice restaurants and desired a change, and partly, I suspect, from a lurking hope that money, finding how cordial a reception I gave it, would visit my purse more frequently than it did. As a dinner for one person costs at the Trois Frères exactly the same sum of money as a dinner for two (the single portion being more than enough for two persons), I determined to invite my friend the violinist to dine with me. What a merry time we had of it! Was it not worth all the money it cost! To finish the evening gayly, we took our gloria at the Café de Paris, and Adieu! Au revoir.

I observed that my neighbor, notwithstanding his youth, was one of the ennuyés; although I several times wiped my eye-glasses I could not see what book formed the solace of his hours as he so covered it with his music, that neither its page-top nor its back was visible; besides,

environed by high bluffs. This was literally covered with buffalo bones through its whole extent, and was evidently a spot where these animals were in the habit of gathering in the fall, before their usual period for migrating to the South, and where, tempted by the late grass and sheltering hills which shut out the bleak winds, they had been hemmed in by thousands, until the severity of the winter warned them to leave; when the deep snows in the passes prevented their egress, and they must have perished from hunger and cold-leaving their bones to whiten there in the sun and rain.

"A ghastly place of sepulchre-where yet no human head

Perchance had pillowed."

No language can give any idea of the fearful desolation of the place. It filled my heart with a nameless dread. I could think of nothing but the valley seen in prophetic vision, and I almost expected to hear the awful voice breaking upon the solitude" Can these dry bones live?" My course lay directly across the valley, and hardly looking around me, I ran at full speed, without stopping, till I had passed it, which I must have done in an almost incredibly short space of time. I continued my way, walking and running, as fast as I could, guided only by the wind, which must have actually veered all round the compass; for, after travelling what seemed to me about twenty miles, to my inexpressible horror, there lay before me the valley of bones, and what was worse, I found that I had come back again to within a hundred yards of the spot whence I had started, which I readily identified by a singular collection of bones I had stopped to examine when speculating upon the anatomy of the buffalo in the morning.

My fatiguing journey of hours had been lost. My heart now fairly sank within me, despair stared me in the face, and I threw myself upon the ground in a bitterness of soul too deep for tears. Here, then, thought I, is to be my final restingplace! In this great charnel house of the wilderness, my bones are destined to moulder without sepulture! Oh, if I could but perish in some fierce encounter with man or beast, or in some desperate struggle with the elements, it would be some relief! If a savage Indian would rise up before me, tomahawk in hand and yelling his startling war-whoop, how grateful would be the sight, and how gladly would I grapple with him in the death struggle! But to die like a doga lingering death of exhaustion and star

vation-alone, without the presence even of an enemy to connect me with my racethe thought was insupportable! I tried to banish it, but in vain! The ghost which my excited fancy had conjured up would not down at my bidding. In a paroxysm of despair, without thought, without settled purpose, hardly knowing what I did, I grasped my pistol, cocked it, put the muzzle to my head and pulled the trigger; but it had been filled with water, and I was saved from an act abhorrent to my principles and feelings, and upon which-though almost involuntary-I cannot look back without a shudder of remorse. I could not but regard it as an interposition of Providence in my behalf, and feelings of gratitude and submission filled my heart. Thoughts of loved ones at home came stealing over me, and I breathed an earnest prayer for their happiness. The bitterness of anguish was gone, and a delicious feeling of calm and resignation succeeded. The touching monody of the poet kept vibrating in my memory and even rising to my lips.

"I could lie down like a tired child,
And weep away the life of care
Which I have borne, and yet must bear,
Till death, like sleep, might steal on me,
And I might feel in the warm air

My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea
Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony."

But the ground was very damp, the rain was pelting, and the air quite cold, and I soon awoke again to the full consciousness of the fearful dangers which environed me, and the necessity and duty of making one last, resolute effort for self-preservation. So I arose, took out my ivory tablets, pencilled a few lines of kind remembrance and farewell to my family, in the faint hope that if exhausted nature should fail, and I should perish on the way, perchance some stranger might find my mouldering remains; and then addressed myself anew, if not with hope yet with a stern courage, to my toilsome journey. I found myself, however, exceedingly lame-my feet were blistered, and full of briers and the thorns of the prickly pear over which I had been walking all day, and I could not make great progress. Night soon overtook me, but it was of no use to stop, and I kept on-on-on-like the Wandering Jew, through the long and dreary hours of that memorable night, watching the heavens, with the utmost intentness, for a single star to send a ray of light through the gloomy and funeral pall that overhung me, to guide me on my way.

I have kept some wearisome watches in my life-one of four hours at midnight off the pitch of Cape Horn, on the lee yard

Eleusinian Mysteries. After seeing the nourishment of French literary men, I have lost the surprise I felt at reading their works. I am only astonished they

are not worse.

It was quite a masquerade of poverty. I vow if I had met any of those habitués on the street, I should have taken them for men of property. Every body had handsome kid gloves, and gold watches and chains, and the majority wore patent leather boots. If regard was had to the narrowness of their incomes, their very wardrobe demanded the exertion of consummate genius. The larger number of the guests were young men. These were "all the talents," who were persuaded (and generally with reason) that fortune was a mere question of time to them. There were young musical composers among the frequenters of the restaurant, and young actors, young painters, young scribblers, young musicians, and some shop-boys-and of both sexes of all of these stations of life. Most of the persons present were husbands or wives by brevet. The pro hac vice wives bore the names of their "husbands" with as much ease as if the mayor and the priest had taken their parts in the transmutation. The waiters, who were quite young, were on a footing of equality with the guests, and joked and laughed and patted them on the backs; they never thought of saying Monsieur in many cases the waiters were richer than the guests. There were no disputes, no quarrelling, no impertinencies of any kind, the "ladies" were treated with a marked courtesy; every one was gay, every one was merry,-how could it be otherwise when all were so young.

I had scarcely exchanged the ordinary civilities with my friend's "Madame" (who was waiting for us when we came in) when I heard the notes of a guitar: turning to the door, I saw standing under the clock, and between the door and the window, a tall scrawny woman; she was dressed shabbily genteel, and every thing about her gave evident indications that she had long and still painfully struggled with poverty: she must have suffered acutely, during the conflict, for besides the lines rising on both sides of her nose, and running around her mouth, and the furrows on both cheeks, from the cheekbone to a level with the mouth, she was one of those constitutions which suffer the most from the ills of life, as they can bear more of them before breaking, than any other temperament. She was tall, thin, nervous; her limbs and her head were small, her hair was black and ill VOL. III.-4

dressed-not from carelessness, but as if her hands had many a time in the course of the day pressed it back to give more air to her fired brain; she kept her eyes fixed on the floor, and sang three or four of the merrier popular songs of the day. No attention was paid to her, unless I except the impertinent way the waiters snubbed her, and the rude jests the landlord made with her. After her songs were ended, she went around from table to table, holding out a small tin box for some recompense for her labors. I suppose she received in all some fifteen cents. In a short time after she left us, two mere lads, violinists, came in, and gave us something as much like music as they could make it. They handed around a cup, which received as liberal a donation as the poor woman's box. Then we had a harper.

With the music, the strange sights around me, the queer exclamations which met my ears, the beauty of "Madame," the youthful and artist's gayety of my friend, and the two bottles of extra wine he ordered (and a glass of which the waiter expected as of course), our dinner went off merrily enough-so merrily I have dined there several times since-and at my suggestion we all went to my room, (after my friend had paid the bill, fiftyfour cents, and given three cents to the waiter), where his "Madame" made coffee, while he and I arranged some cakes I had bought, on some plates, and blew up the fire, and we felt as happy as lords, for all we were up so many flights of the stairs of the spiral staircase.

"Don't think," said he, "that our restaurant is the lowest in Paris. There are some where you have soup, two plates, a dessert, wine, and bread at discretion, for twelve cents; indeed, outside of the Barrière du Mont Rouge, there is one where you may get all of that for ten centsthough I would not engage you to try it, for one of my friends, the serpent,' told me that he eat there before he entered our orchestra, and after the Italian opera season closed, one day he asked for fricasseed chicken, and he found the bones of it were those of an ox's tail. Du reste one may live at those places-I mean, one may keep starvation at arm's length at one of those places and without danger, -so the 'serpent' says,-if he eats only vermicelli soup and vegetables, for the bread there, as every where in Paris, is excellent. But it is a droll place though! The "serpent" says they have all of our musical entertainment, and a great deal more noise than we have (for in Paris the noise made in the restaurants, increases

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