Mid-afternoon of an oppressively hot and sultry day, in the year '54. We call the reader's attention to a scene, that, if not romantic, is at least attractive and interesting; a wagon-train of emigrants, as is attested by the quantity of driven stock—horses, cattle and sheep. The presence of women and children is still further evidence. It moved slowly and drearily along over the vast, almost barren stretch of level plain, as though the nearly spent day had been one of hard and unremitting toil. The horses or mules, their heads hanging down, with drooping ears and tails, their hides damp with sweat and covered with the fine sand cast upon the air by the trampling hoofs, or the slowly revolving wheels, scarcely heed the stinging lash or the impatient exclamation of their drivers. The loose stock move dejectedly along, cured of their morning propensity of running from the trail to snatch a mouthful of grass, or nip the tops of a bush, while more than one of the boys, whose duty it is to keep them within proper limits, dozes in their hard saddles. But there are three persons who appear full of life and free from the general weariness of mind and body. There: one of them a woman—a girl; the others men.