R

OMANCE in pioneering is fast disappearing from the West. "Settler" and "claim" in a few years will be marked obsolete-indeed, they are so already in a large portion of the country beyond the Missouri. As ranch succeeded range, so farm and field are taking the place of prairie. Even in the newest of the pioneer communities, the "Promised Land" of Oklahoma, such signs of permanent settlement are manifest as to disappoint the seeker after sensational newness. So substantial a development is shown as to make it seem impossible that eleven years ago not a white man's home existed on all the stretching plains of the Territory, while half of it is but seven years old in settlement. The picturesque features of settling up a new country, usually reaching over long and anxious years, were here crowded into a day, and then, in a sense, ended. This did not, however, make Oklahoma mature, and none realize this more fully than its own people.

Strikingly similar are all the prairie States in their physical aspect. In each is the steady upward slope toward the west, with its accompanying variation of rainfall in each the large rivers flow eastward, by reason thereof, and settlement hugs the rich valleys, while herds and flocks graze on the uplands. In some respects Oklahoma offers an exception. While it, too, has its varying rainfall and altitude, its eastern portion pre

sents a more regular settlement than any portion of the West. Here as nowhere else in the world are whole counties with a family on every quarter-section1-and only one. Eastern Oklahoma is in the longitude of central Kansas and Nebraska, but because of its lower latitude it receives a somewhat larger and a far better distributed rainfall. Hence the settlers of this new land, all virgin soil, came into a favorable location, and events have proved how well they improved their opportunity.

Few more beautiful pictures can be seen on the plains than an eastern Oklahoma landscape. The gently rolling, rich, loamy soil, or even the reddish tinge of clay, with myriads of hay or straw stacks, the green of the growing wheat, the thrifty farm-houses, and the promising orchards, unite to tell of agricultural success. One could stand on a windmill tower in northern Oklahoma last fall and count a hundred wheat-stacks; later the smoke of a dozen threshing-engines blotted the horizon, and fourscore teams were turning brown furrows for the new crop. It was a glorious gift of wheat that the farmers received-some twenty-five million bushels from a million acres. To it they added a bountiful corn product and were satisfied.

Farther south comes the cotton country. Alongside the wheat and corn fields are other fields with the low, bushy cotton plants which later become spotted with

A quarter-section is 160 acres.

snowy bolls. Here and there are gins, and on Saturday afternoons the streets of the towns are filled with wagons in which the farmers have brought the cotton to market. A fertile soil that can produce the staples of both North and South ought to be sufficient for the most exacting.

To the west rainfall diminishes and the stock interests become more prominent until the semi-arid region is reached. Here only the best valleys are occupied, and there is yet plenty of land for entry. The herder and the ranch-house are encountered, and the cattleman is king. One reaches the Cimarron after long toiling through sand and bluffs, only to find a wide, shallow, lazy, brackish stream. Off on the prairie are sudden upliftings of rock and clay that tower a hundred feet or more with sheer sides, like stray monuments from the Garden of the Gods. Beyond that, toward the sunset, is desolation-the coyote-infested plains that stretch on and on into No Man's Land and the Panhandle, and so to the cactus ranges of New Mexico.

It is said that the people of the West emigrate along lines of longitude. Were this so, Oklahoma ought to present an imitation of the States to the north-but it does not. Side by side are the Kansan and the Kentuckian; the Texan touches shoulders with the Nebraskan and the New Yorker. It is a very cosmopolitan population, for all portions of the Nation were represented in the throng that lined up on the border and at the crack of a rifle rushed pell-mell after homes. But it is a country of workers. Those who succeeded in the rush were the pick of the lot, and they have never ceased to strive. Why should they? the prize is tempting enough. It is bewildering to the visitor.

"There's a fine farm," you remark to the driver, as neat barns, a cozy cottage, and liberal granaries meet your eye.

"Yes, he's one of the best men in the country-made the run in '93. Used to be porter in a hotel at Wichita, borrowed a horse an' made the run. Raised four thousand bushels of wheat this yearhe's worth six thousand clear.”

Then another: "Yes, he sold one of his two horses to get a gun, an' left his wife an' two girls in a wagon while he got a claim. Sent the girls back East to

college last fall. Owns the farm an' a house in town."

It is the same story all along the road. Most of the people came here poor-they came because they were poor-and the farms and improvements represent their profits. Nearly everywhere may be seen the first cabin of the farmer moved back for a granary, while a new house has been built for his family. The trees tell the story of recent settlement; they are small yet. Occasionally there is an element of romance in the story of the incoming. The widow has perhaps made the run for the sake of her children, and has won them a home and a competence. A schoolmistress has ventured to gain a gift from Uncle Sam and held down a claim, reaping a reward in a property that will keep her for life.

To all these the Government gave a fine recognition when last winter it passed the "free homes" bill, absolving thousands of settlers from paying the two dollars and fifty cents an acre called for by their terms of settlement. The savings that had been laid away to make the payment were suddenly a surplus, and the effect has been seen in additions to the houses, new buggies, and trips to the old Eastern home. It has given the first good, hearty breathing-spell enjoyed by thousands of families since the opening. That they appreciated it was shown when they voted for Representative in Novemberthe man who had worked hard for the measure was re-elected by a majority that came but little short of unanimity.

Many of the farmers along the border of the Indian Territory or of the reservations that jut into the Oklahoma border rent lands of the tribes and reap large profits. Wheat and pasture are the common uses, and out of both fortunes have been made. Men who make wheat-raising a business use Indian land extensivelyfor each quarter-section of the white man's land is occupied and cannot be rented. Sometimes there is seen a tent beside a well-built house. It is the redskin and his family living in their flimsy but familiar home, while the white tenant resides in comfort within strong walls. The Indian would not change places-he is satisfied. The Indians are not all that way; many of them are as skilled in the use of the advantages of civilization as their white

brothers. To be sure, some buy steel ranges for hen-coops and porcelain bathtubs for watering-troughs, but they are getting past that.

It is a curious thing that, despite the apparently full settlement of the most desirable lands of Oklahoma, immigration is all the time adding to the population. In the land offices are found farmers from Illinois, Indiana, and Kansas, with a considerable contingent from the Northern States-people who have grown weary of battling against twenty-below-zero weather. They want to buy farms, and the agent has plenty of land to show them.

"Where is the man who sells out going?" is the question that naturally arises. This brings to light one of the curious elements of Western development-one that is worthy the attention of

a philosopher, and which has had a wide influence on the civilization of the prairie, accounting for some of the strange chapters in its history. This is the moverthe settler who is never satisfied, who holds all he possesses for sale, and who sees something better just beyond. Thousands came to Oklahoma because they wanted to move on; they are willing again to move on, and they will probably emulate the Wandering Jew to the end of the chapter. They never become rich, and their families are the real sufferers from their course. Those who receive twentyfive hundred to four thousand dollarsthe usual price for a fairly well improved claim-seek cheaper lands in the western. part of the Territory, or wait for another "opening." The new population is of the substantial kind that comes to stay.

This changing is going on rapidly, and the population figures are creeping well upward, the new census giving the Territory three hundred and ninety-eight thousand. The immigrants who cannot afford to buy the better farms take their way westward, and, with stock as an added source of income, make a start on the cheaper lands. Thus it is that there is opportunity for all who come. Even the money-loaner who puts his trust in farm mortgages reaps a good harvest--seven to nine per cent.; a rate, by the way, that is higher than the regular crop conditions seem to justify.

In the past season, the fourth of the series of good crop years, Oklahoma has produced 25,000,000 bushels of wheat, 15,000,000 of oats, 70,000,000 of corn, and 140,000 bales of cotton. This, with the small fruits and the yield of its stock interests, makes it remarkably prosperous. Its property is valued for taxes at $49,338,000—a rather tidy substance to be gathered in a decade. The cotton crop alone sold for over $6,000,000; the wheat brought $13,000,000. Each year the total is larger, and each year sees better farming; for even in the western section, as in the western parts of Kansas and Nebraska, the lesson of the adaptability of soil and climate has been learned, and experiments are less numerous. The people who have settled Oklahoma have put in long, weary years experimenting with the climate, and know what to expect from the rain-clouds. More "experience" was brought to the conquering of the soil of the Territory than to any other part of the West, and the advancement made is evidence of its value.

In the towns of Oklahoma, more, perhaps, than in the country, is seen evidence of the Territory's youth. The towns were settled on the run. They might have for their motto, "Cities made while you wait." In a day were erected the first structures, and in a fortnight the town-sites presented as well developed a situation as grew up in other communities in a dozen years. But it was all very temporary and very rambling The first buildings were mere shacks sufficient to keep out the weather. Like the cabins on the claim, they pretended nothing, but accomplished their purpose, which was to hold down the land

for later improvements, and for this purpose anything was good enough.

As the Territory gained in years, these first buildings gave way to brick and stone blocks, pretentious corner fronts, and the habiliments of civilization. Yet some of the first comers remained, and there is yet presented in most of the smaller towns an incongruous comparison of the old order of things and the new. There was, too, as in the other prairie communities, a tendency to overbuild, and the effect was seen in empty buildings fringing the busy section of the town. Of course decreased revenues formed a corrective of this tendency, and the town has waited for the country to catch up. This, generally, has been accomplished now, and the building that has been resumed is in accordance with the legitimate demands of the places.

The railroad towns are, for the most part, located along the two main linesthe Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fé, and the Chicago, Rock Island, and Pacific— which traverse the eastern portion of the Territory from north to south. They have enjoyed a trade reaching back into the country east and west thirty to sixty miles, and have thrived on the business that came, not alone from the settlers directly, but from the little settlements that made local distributing points. So it often happens that the business of the towns has been out of proportion to their size, and merchants located in unpainted frame shacks have been piling up bank accounts at a rate that many a betterhoused dealer might well envy.

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This condition is passing away. lines of railroad are being built as rapidly as the work can be done, and along them are springing up new business centers, each cutting off the trade of some older town. It is a repetition of the history of other sections of the West, and will continue until the town and country reach an equilibrium where further town-building becomes unprofitable.

The rivalry of the towns has been very bitter. It began when the first locations were selected, rival town companies racing for the favored spots. In one instance where two towns were located close together, the railroad took a hand, and by refusing to stop its trains at one of them compelled a consolidation. Many town