The grass is showing green, and where it was burnt off on the north side of the valley, and was only black, barren patches a little more than a week ago, now are bright and green. A few new flowers have sprung up by the way-side. The sweetest in fragrance is what they call the wild onion. The root is the shape and taste of an onion, and also the stem when bruised has quite an onion smell; but the tiny, pale pink flower reminds me of the old May pinks for fragrance. Another tiny flower is very much like mother's treasured pink oxalis; but is only the bloom of wood sorrel. It opens in morning and closes at evening, and acts so much like the oxalis, I could scarcely be persuaded it was not; but the leaves convinced me. I think the setting sun of Nebraska must impart some of its rays to the flowers, that give them a different tinge; and, too, the flowers seem to come with the leaves, and bloom so soon after peeping through the sod. The pretty blue and white starlike iris was the only flower to be found about Stuart when I left. We have passed a number of emigrant wagons, and--"Oh, horror! Mr. Newell, look out for the red-skins!" "Where, Miss Fulton, where?" "Why there, on the wagon and about it, and see, they are setting fire to the prairie; and oh dear! one of them is coming toward us with some sort of a weapon in his hand. Guess I'll wrap this bright red Indian blanket around me and perhaps they will take me for a 'Soo' and spare me scalp." Reader I have a mind to say "continued in the next" or "subscribe for the Ledger and read the rest," but that would be unkind to leave you in suspense, though I fear you are growing sleepy over this the first chapter even, and I would like to have some thrilling adventure to wake you up. But the "Look out for the red skins," was in great red letters on a prairie schooner, and there they were, men with coats and hats painted a bright red, taking their dinner about a fire which the wind is trying to carry farther, and one is vigorously stamping it out. Another, a mere boy with a stick in his hand, comes to inquire the road to the bridge "where you don't have to pay toll?" Poor men, they look as though they hadn't ten cents to spare. So ends my adventure with the "red skins." But here comes another train of emigrants; ladies traveling in a covered carriage, while the horses, cattle, people, and all show they come from a land of plenty, and bring a goodly share of worldly goods along. They tell Mr. N. they came from Hall county, Nebraska, where vegetation is at least two weeks ahead of this country, but came to take up government land. So it is, some go with nothing, while others sell good homes and go with a plenty to build up another where they can have the land for the claiming of it.