t,"
extending over an area of sixty square miles--an utterly blasted
place--so that I missed nothing by passing over it wrapped in sleep
and rugs. The country about Ogden is well-cultivated and pleasant
looking. Ogden itself is a busy place, being the terminus of the
Central Pacific Railroad, and the junction for trains running down to
Salt Lake City. From this point the Union Pacific commences, and runs
eastward as far as Omaha.

CHAPTER XXV.

ACROSS THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

START BY TRAIN FOR OMAHA--MY FELLOW-PASSENGERS--PASSAGE THROUGH THE
DEVIL'S GATE--WEBER CANYON--FANTASTIC ROCKS--"THOUSAND MILE TREE"--ECHO
CANYON--MORE TRESTLE-BRIDGES--SUNSET AMIDST THE BLUFFS--A WINTRY NIGHT
BY RAIL--SNOW-FENCES AND SNOW-SHEDS--LARAMIE CITY--RED BUTTES--THE
SUMMIT AT SHERMAN--CHEYENNE CITY--THE WESTERN PRAIRIE IN
WINTER--PRAIRIE DOG CITY--THE VALLEY OF THE PLATTE--GRAND
ISLAND--CROSS THE NORTH FORK OF THE PLATTE--ARRIVAL IN OMAHA.

I decided not to break the journey by visiting Utah--about which so
much has already been written--but to go straight on to Omaha; and I
accordingly took my place in the train about to start eastward. Here I
encountered quite a new phase of American railroad society. One of my
fellow-passengers was a quack doctor, who contemplated depositing
himself in the first populous place he came to on the track-side, for
the purpose of picking up some "'tarnal red cents." A colonel and a
corporal in the American army were on their way home from some post in
the Far West, where they had been to keep the Indians in order. There
were several young commercial travellers, some lucky men returning
from the silver-mines in Idaho, a steward of one of the Pacific mail
steamers returning to England, and an iron-moulder with his wife and
child on their way to Chicago.

The train soon started, and for some miles we passed through a
well-cultivated country, divided into fields and orchards, looking
pretty even under the thick snow, and reminding me of the vales of
Kent. But we very soon left the cultivated land behind us, and were
again in amongst the mountain gorges. I got out on to the platform to
look around me, and, though the piercing cold rather chilled my
pleasure, I could not help enjoying the wonderful scenery that we
passed through during the next three hours. We are now entering the
Wahsatch Mountains by the grand chasm called the Devil's Gate. We
cross a trestle-bridge fifty feet above the torrent whi