_Hunter._ Though in our country there are dull, monotonous rivers, with thick slimy waters, stagnant swamps, and pine forests almost immeasureable in extent; yet, still, some of the most beautiful and delightful scenes in the whole world are here.
_Austin._ How big are the prairies? I want to know more about them.
_Hunter._ They extend for many hundreds of miles, though not without being divided and diversified with other scenery. Mountains and valleys, and forests and rivers, vary the appearance of the country. The name _prairie_ was given to the plains of North America by the French settlers. It is the French word for meadow. I will describe some prairie scenes which have particularly struck me. These vast plains are sometimes flat; sometimes undulated, like the large waves of the sea; sometimes barren; sometimes covered with flowers and fruit; and sometimes there is grass growing on them eight or ten feet high.
_Brian._ I never heard of such high grass as that.
_Hunter._ A prairie on fire is one of the most imposing spectacles you can imagine. The flame is urged on by the winds, running and spreading out with swiftness and fury, roaring like a tempest, and driving before it deer, wolves, horses, and buffaloes, in wild confusion.
_Austin._ How I should like to see a prairie on fire!
_Hunter._ In Missouri, Arkansas, Indiana, and Louisiana, prairies abound; and the whole State of Illinois is little else than a vast prairie. From the Falls of the Missouri to St. Louis, a constant succession of prairie and river scenes, of the most interesting kind, meet the eye. Here the rich green velvet turf spreads out immeasurably wide; breaking towards the river into innumerable hills and dales, bluffs and ravines, where mountain goats and wolves and antelopes and elks and buffaloes and grizzly bears roam in unrestrained liberty. At one time, the green bluff slopes easily down to the water's edge; while, in other places, the ground at the edge of the river presents to the eye an endless variety of hill and bluff and crag, taking the shapes of ramparts and ruins, of columns, porticoes, terraces, domes, towers, citadels and castles; while here and there seems to rise a solitary spire, which might well pass for the work of human hands. But the whole scene, varying in colour, and lit up and gilded by the mid-day sun, speaks to the heart of the spectator, convincing him that none but an Almighty hand could thus clothe the wilderness with beauty.