My journey to-day led me again over the seemingly endless prairie--extending beyond the range of human vision. Halted at a farm house for dinner, near Dalmanutha, an agricultural settlement in Guthrie County. Wishing to reach Anita before stopping for the night, I continued on the road after dark, contrary to my usual practice. For some time before sunset I had not seen a farm house or even a tree as far as the eye could reach, and now could see nothing of road or trail. Accordingly I gave _Paul_ the rein and left him to pick his way. He followed a sort of blind road which led to a haystack. I thought I could do no better than make my bed on the sweet hay, and decided to spend the night there supperless. I had scarcely settled myself when a troop of coyotes, or prairie wolves, came howling and barking in front of me. This made things uncomfortable, and I at once jumped to my feet and, revolver in hand, faced the enemy. Several were killed by my fire. The remainder, however, continued to threaten an attack. I was puzzled as to what was best to do when I was suddenly re-inforced by a friendly dog, who, attracted doubtless, by the report of the pistol and the barking of the coyotes, came to my rescue, and kept the animals at bay for the remainder of the night. At daybreak I was not sorry to bid adieu to the haystack and, neither, I believe, was _Paul_, who had also spent a restless night, notwithstanding the abundance of good fodder at his disposal. It may be mentioned that the coyote seems to partake of the nature of the dog and the wolf. In the winter, when food is scarce, these animals will attack man, but, unlike the wolf, if a bold resistance is offered, they will speedily decamp. A pack of coyotes, however, are not pleasant company on a dark night. One Hundred and Sixtieth Day. _Pacific Hotel_, ATLANTIC, IOWA, _October Eighteenth_. Was again all day on the prairie inhaling the pure, invigorating air as _Paul_ and I faced a stiff breeze from the Northwest; and at four o'clock arrived at Atlantic, a thriving village of over three thousand inhabitants, dependent, like all the villages I had passed, upon the surrounding farms. These farms are mostly in a flourishing condition, are fenced and under good cultivation, divided into meadows and fields of every variety of grain. The village is delightfully situated. As an evidence of its prosperity it supported two ably conducted daily papers and three weeklies, three banks and several graded schools. I was now eighty-two miles from Des Moines. The prairie here is gently undulating and the soil composed of vegetable mould and sand. Atlantic, I infer from its busy appearance, has a destiny above that which it has attained. One Hundred and Sixty-first Day.