We are now commencing to cross the great plains of Texas. At first the
plains are desert, with mountains skirting our view; the scenery is less
interesting than the Arizona desert, because there are no cacti. This
desert has probably been under salt water at some time. The rocky hills
appear to have a volcanic origin. As we go on, we reach a poor kind of
pasture, growing out of a scrubby kind of shrub, with some occasional
cacti, many hills and mountains like barren rocks, with not a bird or an
animal to be seen. The weather has been warm since leaving Merced, but
now, so far south as we are, it is hot on this December day. I had read
in the short telegrams given by American papers, that the winter was
very severe in England, and I pictured often to myself, friends and
clients in England muffled up amidst frost and snow, whilst I was
revelling in glorious sunshine, so warm that no greatcoat could be worn.
Had I returned by the route I went (the Northern Prairies), I might have
been delayed by snow drifts, but by this, the Southern route, there was
no snow, but a continuous, cheerful, delightful sunshine, not too hot
anywhere, but simply delightful. I should certainly recommend anyone
going from England to California in the winter season, to go by the
Southern route. Amongst the objects of interest, we notice in the
distance a small herd of 14 wild antelope trotting along; cattle, coyote
wolves, and, at many places, the well-picked bones of animals which had
dropped dead, or, when weak, had been killed or eaten by carnivora or
reptiles.
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