[Illustration: HE RUSHED UPON THE TREACHEROUS INDIAN.]
BILLY WHISKERS JR.
_AKRON, OHIO._
_THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO._
_NEW YORK._ _CHICAGO._
COPYRIGHT, 1904
BY
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY.
THIS BOOK
IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED
TO
MY LITTLE GODSON,
JACK HANSON MICHENER.
_CONTENTS_
NIGHT GROWS TIRED OF THE FARM 7
WESTWARD HO! 14
THE COLLISION 21
BILLY JR. GETS A TASTE OF THE WEST 30
BILLY JR. AS LEADER OF THE SHEEP 37
A FIGHT WITH WOLVES 43
BILLY LEARNS SOMETHING ABOUT COWBOYS AND INDIANS 50
BILLY JR. AND THE FIREMEN 62
BILLY, THE CHRISTMAS TREE, AND THE IRISHWOMAN 71
BILLY JR. HAS SOME NEW EXPERIENCES 79
BILLY JR. AND STUBBY 89
SMALL ADVENTURES 96
THE MIDNIGHT FIRE 103
THE BULL-FIGHT 110
THE ESCAPE 115
THE VOLCANO 123
AN UNEXPECTED TRIP 134
_Illustrations_
PAGE
HE RUSHED UPON THE TREACHEROUS INDIAN _Frontispiece_
THERE WAS A TERRIFIC EXPLOSION AND THEY FELT THEMSELVES
BEING HURLED THROUGH SPACE 20
HE FELT HIMSELF PINIONED ON A PAIR OF LONG SHARP HORNS 40
THE MAN MADE A GRAB FOR THE GREASED POLE AND DOWN HE WENT 60
BILLY GAVE ONE LEAP WHICH CARRIED HIM AHEAD OF THE DOG 80
IN THE VERY CENTER STOOD LITTLE DUKE 100
_Night Grows Tired of the Farm._
Night had not been home more than three weeks when he commenced to get
restless and tired of the quiet life on the farm. It was such a change
from the adventurous, exciting life he had been leading that he did not
know what to do with himself. This going to bed with the chickens and
getting up with the sun, with nothing to do all day long but graze in
the pasture or sleep in the shade, did not suit him; so he whispered to
Day one day:
“This life is driving me mad. I am going away the first chance I get. I
have it all planned. Come over here by the stream and I will tell you
all about it.”
“Oh, Night, don’t go away and leave us! It will be so lonely without
you. Why! I think it is perfectly lovely here; it is so clean and
quiet, and then we know we are not going to be hurt or starved one day
and petted and stuffed the next, like we were when traveling.”
“I know, dear, but you are a girl and like the quiet, while I am a boy
and like adventures. Why! I like to get into scrapes just for the fun
of getting out of them. Besides, there is another reason why you like
it here. You need not think I have not noticed how that handsome goat
with the long hair and curved horns almost as long as my own, makes
sheep’s eyes at you, for I have. And so, Miss Day, you are in love. I
see you are blushing, for the inside of your ear is as red as blood,
and that is a sure sign a goat is in love. Well, how do you like it? It
is nicer than you thought when you took me away from Spotty, isn’t it?”
“Oh, Night! do forgive me. I never would have done it if I had thought
you felt as I do now. But I did not know then; and I wanted you all to
myself. I know I was selfish and jealous, but do forgive me, won’t you?”
“Yes, dear little sister, I will forgive you because I did not care so
very much for Spotty. If I had, you could not have kept me from her. I
would have found my way back to Madeira, if I had spent the rest of my
life looking for it. But you see, don’t you? that now you will be happy
and contented; father and mother don’t need me now that they have you,
so I am going out to see some more of the world and try to find another
goat as nice as you are to marry. If I do, I will bring her back here
and we will always live happily forever afterward, as they say in the
story books.”
“But when and where are you going, Night? Do tell me. And you will
surely wait until I am married, won’t you?”
“I am going West. I have heard all about the wonderful prairies,
plains, and mountains out there, where there are hundreds of thousands
of sheep, and how each flock has a large goat for a leader. Now it is
my ambition to be one of those leaders.”
“How in the world will you get there? It is thousands upon thousands of
miles from here, and you can’t walk all the way.”
“No, my dear, I know I can’t walk it, but I can walk part of the way
and steal rides occasionally, like the tramps do. I will get there
somehow, for I never failed to do anything which I made up my mind to
do if I stuck to it long enough. I can just see those immense mountains
lying so still and solemn, cut by innumerable bridle paths and cañons,
where the sheep seek shelter from the driving storms, protected from
the wolves that sneak down to devour them by their big billy-goat
leader. He gives the signal of danger and with the shepherd drives off
the hungry wolves.”
“For mercy sakes! don’t talk of going where there are wolves, for they
will tear you to pieces and I shan’t close my eyes until you get back,
I shall be so worried,” said Day.
“Don’t fear for me, sister mine. No old wolf will get the better of me
while I have two such long, sharp horns on my head as I now have. Why,
a wolf is nothing more than a wild dog, and you know how I treat ugly,
cross dogs.”
“I don’t believe father will let you go,” said Day as a last resort to
discourage his going.
“Oh, yes, he will. He was young once and liked adventures as well as I
do now; and mother won’t mind after a few days, because she has you.”
“Won’t mind. Well, I guess she will. Forty me’s can’t take the place
of you in _her_ mind; she is so proud of your strength and beauty. You
needn’t get conceited, but you know you are very handsome with your
silky black coat and long beard, almost as long as papa’s. Every young
nanny in the pasture has been making eyes at you since you came back.
Why can’t you fall in love with my chum, Belle? I am sure she is pretty
enough for any goat to fall in love with. And then you could live here
and not go away and leave us all again. I feel it in my bones if you go
you will never come back again. Do try to live here, Night, won’t you?”
“I would do anything for you, Day, that I could, but I couldn’t and
wouldn’t fall in love with that long-nosed, sheepish-looking Belle with
washed-out blue eyes, even to please you.”
“Oh, Night, she hasn’t washed-out eyes and she is considered a beauty.”
“Well, I don’t admire your taste. Whoever wants her can have her, for
all of me. Here comes mother and we must stop talking, for I don’t want
her to know I am going away until my plans are complete.”
Night had grown so much like Billy since he had been away that he was
no longer called Night but “Billy Whiskers Jr.”
Billy Jr. had taken to spending all his time by the fence that ran
along the roadside, and he was getting thin from watching so much and
eating so little. When his mother noticed this, she said:
“My dear son, why do you spend so much of your time down by the road
where the grass is dusty and scarce instead of here by the stream where
it is clean and fresh?”
“Oh, I don’t mind the dust,” he answered. “I stay there so that I can
talk to the horses, cows, and sheep that pass by.”
“But you are getting thin, and your coat is dirty and shabby from want
of care. And you act as if there was something on your mind. Can’t you
tell your mother what it is that is worrying you?”
At this Billy Jr. broke down and told her all his plans; how he was
longing to get away and go West; but he could find no one who could
tell him how to get there. All the animals that passed along had been
born and raised in the East and knew no more of the West than he did.
Nannie answered:
“You are just like your father was at your age. I have been afraid for
a long while that you were dissatisfied here; and though it will nearly
break my heart to have you go, still I will not forbid your doing so.”
[Illustration]
So Billy Jr. kept up his watch by the fence and at last was rewarded by
hearing this news: A loose colt from one of the neighbors told him that
a gentleman from away out West was visiting at their place and that he
had brought his horse with him. This horse told them all about the big
West every evening when they were all shut in their stalls; and he, for
his part, was crazy to go.
“That is just what I am crazy to hear about for I want to go there
myself. Can’t you kick the stable door down to-night so I can get in
and hear what he says?” said Billy Jr.
“Certainly I can, for my stall is the outside one, and I will do it
when I hear you bah outside.”
“Thank you very much,” said Billy Jr. “I will be there as soon as the
hired man has left the barn, so he won’t see me and drive me back.”
And for the first time in many days Billy Jr. ate a good dinner and
rolled and rolled in the clean sand to shine up his much neglected
coat, which, when he had finished, shone again like satin. As evening
drew on he was all impatience for it to get pitchy dark and for every
one to go to bed, so he could be off. At last he thought it was dark
enough for him to try it, especially as his coat was so black it was
not easily detected.
He jumped the fence where he and Day had jumped it when they had
returned from their travels and, turning down the road, he was soon on
his way to the neighbor’s to hear what the horse had to say about the
West.
_Westward Ho!_
Billy Jr. soon found himself at the neighbor’s, bleating for the colt
to kick down the door. This was done with two kicks and Billy Jr.
walked in and was introduced to the horse from the West.
“I am glad to make your acquaintance,” said the horse. “I hear you are
thinking of going West and would like to know something about it and
how to get there. I also heard that you thought of walking and trusting
to stealing rides on the cars if you could not get there in any other
way. Now I hate to discourage you but, strong and brave as you are, you
could not do it. You might get as far as the Great Plains, but these
you could never cross. You would die of hunger and thirst if not with
lonesomeness long before you had got a quarter of the way. Imagine
yourself on a vast prairie without a hill or a tree in sight; the
ground as level as if rolled out with a rolling-pin and covered with
sage brush and short buffalo grass, coarse as straw and dry as chips;
not a living thing in sight but a jack-rabbit or two and a buzzard
flying overhead waiting for your dead body. This buzzard has been
following you for he knows from experience that it won’t be many days
before you are stark and cold in death, either from hunger or thirst.
Or, if the worst should come to the worst, you might be torn to pieces
by a pack of prairie wolves as hungry as yourself.
“Sometimes cattle stray from the flock and try to cross the plains
alone and get as far as Dead Lake--a lake of alkali water that lies in
the desert. This water is as clear as crystal and looks so tempting to
the poor thirsty cattle that they often drink it, though all around
its margin are the bleached bones of other cattle that have drunk of
its poisoned waters and died. One can’t blame them for drinking, for
it looks so cool and refreshing to them as it lies there clear and
tempting, rippled by the breezes that blow over it. Oh, no! Mr. Billy,
better wait and content yourself here or get shipped through in a car
as I was.”
All this gave Billy Jr. some things to think about and he went home
feeling blue and depressed and almost ready to give up his cherished
plans. But next morning he awoke with the same burning desire to go,
and he made up his mind that faint heart never got anywhere nor did
anything, and he decided he would start anyway and follow the sun in
its direct course west day after day and see where it would bring him.
If it did not lead him where he wanted to go, it would at least give
him adventures, hardships, and pleasures, and they in themselves were
worth going after.
About 11 o’clock in the morning, while he was telling Day that his mind
was made up to start the next day at sunrise, he looked up and saw the
horse from the West turn into their lane with a fine-looking gentleman
on his back. He ran over to the fence to see if he could not get a word
or two with the horse. When pretty near to him, the gentleman stopped
his horse and Billy Jr. heard him say:
[Illustration]
“My soul! but that is a fine-looking goat. I would give a hundred
dollars to have him West to lead my flocks.”
“Bah, bah,” bleated Billy Jr., which meant, “You can have me for ten
cents.” As the gentleman rode on, Billy Jr. said to himself, “Oh, why
can’t people understand us as we can them? for then I could plead with
him to take me West!” And he walked off and butted an inoffensive goat
in his anger and tried to pick a quarrel with him. But the goat knew
Billy Jr.’s reputation too well and refused to fight.
Right after dinner Billy Jr. saw Mr. Windlass and the gentleman who had
ridden into the lane that morning coming into the pasture. He did not
go to meet them because he felt cross and disagreeable, so he stood
staring at them, chewing grass like an old man chews tobacco. However,
they came straight up to where he stood, and he heard Mr. Windlass tell
the gentleman how he and the white goat over there (pointing to Day)
had come to him one morning and he had never been able to learn to whom
they belonged or where they came from, though he had advertised in all
the papers.
“I had a black and a white kid a couple of years ago, but it is not
likely they could be the same ones grown up and come back.”
“I don’t know,” answered the gentleman, “goats are queer creatures.
Mr. Windlass, what will you take for him? I have been looking for a
big jet-black billy-goat to lead my flocks for a long time. The wolves
are getting pretty bad out West on the range and a goat makes a good
leader. I want a black one, as his color would distinguish him from
the white sheep immediately. Besides, your goat has other points in
his favor; he is strong, large, a good fighter you say, and has long,
sharp-pointed horns. Name your price and I will take him and have him
shipped West in the same car with my horse when I go. I will charter a
car and put feed in one end of it and have the other partitioned off
into two stalls into which I will put the goat and horse.”
Billy Jr. failed to hear what Mr. Windlass asked for him, but he heard
the gentleman say:
“It is a bargain and I will send my man for him to-night, for I expect
to leave very early in the morning for Boston to catch the westbound
train.”
“Hurrah! Hurrah! Papa Billy and Mamma Nanny, come here and hear what
glorious news I have for you. I am going West to-morrow!”
Nanny nearly fainted when she heard the news, it was so sudden, and
even staunch old Billy Whiskers shed a tear when he thought of his
gallant young son leaving them, perhaps forever. While for Day, she
just rolled over on the ground and cried, but was soon comforted by a
handsome young goat only a few months older than herself.
True to his word, Mr. Wilder, the Western gentleman, sent his man for
Billy Jr. just before dark; and when the goats saw him come through
the gate preparatory to leading Billy Jr. off, they all gathered round
to say a last farewell, and old Billy, Nanny, and Day all followed him
to the gate and watched him with streaming eyes through the palings
until he was out of sight. The man led Billy Jr. to the depot, and
there he was put into a freight-car with the Westerner’s pet horse,
Star.
“Hello, Mr. Billy Jr.! Glad I am to have you as a companion. You did
not expect to have such good luck as this when last I saw you. You will
find this beats walking all to pieces.”
“It certainly does,” answered Billy Jr. “This piece of luck is beyond
my greatest expectations.”
Just then the train gave a jerk forward and stopped suddenly, which
sent Billy Jr. off his feet, it was so unexpected, and bumped Star’s
nose against the end of the car.
“Well, I never!” said Billy Jr. “This is worse than the rocking of a
vessel for knocking one around.”
“Yes, and the worst of it is you can never tell when it is coming.
If one only could, he might brace himself for it and not get hurt,”
said Star. “I hear you have traveled a good deal by water and that you
were once shipwrecked,” said he. “Won’t you tell me something of your
adventures?”
“Some day I will, but now I want to ask you questions about the West.”
After a half-hour’s backing, switching, and jerking, the train at last
moved out of the yards and started on its way for the West, with a
bumpity, bump, bump and a clankity, clank, clank. Once out of the city,
it wound itself in and out among the hills and across country like a
huge, brown snake.
In this way they traveled for a couple of days. They enjoyed the
scenery of the Horse Shoe Bend in the Allegheny Mountains, which they
crossed; and they both speculated on what would become of them if the
train rolled from the track in rounding the curve and landed them at
the foot of the mountain thousands of feet below. Through the slats
of the car that had been left open they could see the country through
which they passed, and they stood and looked until cinders got in their
eyes and they grew too tired to stand still.
[Illustration: THERE WAS A TERRIFIC EXPLOSION AND THEY FELT THEMSELVES
BEING HURLED THROUGH SPACE.]
_The Collision._
Everything went well until about midnight of the fourth day out,
when Billy Jr. and his companion were awakened by a terrific crash,
a bumpity-bump-bump, and the door of the car broke from its hinges
and fell to the ground. At the same time there was a noise as if an
avalanche of snow were scraping and rattling on the top of the car.
“What do you suppose has happened?” said Billy Jr.
“I think either we have run into some other train or it has run into
us,” answered Star.
And the latter is what it proved to be. The freight was behind time
and an excursion train had tried to make the next station before the
freight started out. The consequence was that the excursion train,
running at a high rate of speed, did not notice the freight, which was
behind a deep bend in the road, until it was too late, and crashed into
it. Both engines were thrown off the track and two or three cars of the
excursion train were smashed to splinters, while one was suspended in
mid-air over a deep precipice of the mountain and the only thing that
kept it from going over was the coupling between it and the other car.
For a second after the crash everything was still; then the cries of
women and children were heard above the noise of escaping steam and
crackling wood, as fire spread from one car to another and added its
horror to the already disastrous wreck.
“Billy Jr., I smell smoke,” said Star. “You are not tied while I am.
Can’t you jump out and see where it comes from; for if the train is on
fire, what will become of me? I am tied up so tight I can’t possibly
get loose.”
“Try to pull back and break your strap,” said Billy Jr.
Star tried, but it would not break.
“I’ll tell you how; rub your head against the side of the car and try
to slip your bridle over your ears,” suggested Billy.
Star did this and the bridle dropped off. But he was no better off than
before, for he found himself boarded in his stall away from the open
door.
“I’ll tell you how you can fix that,” said Billy Jr. “You kick with all
your might and throw your body against the boards and I am sure they
will give way, for they are nailed on loosely from this side. While you
do that, I will jump out and see what is the matter and if there is any
danger of the fire reaching our car.”
So while Star threw his weight against the boards and kicked for dear
life, Billy ran forward to see how bad the wreck was.
He came upon a sight weird and appalling to the last degree. The night
was inky black, while the flames, as they licked up car after car, lit
up the landscape with a red glare like some scene at the theatre; while
for a background stood the tall, black mountains silent and still, like
sentinels around a bivouac fire. Running hither and thither were men
and women trying to save their companions from the burning train, and
many acts of heroism were performed, while lives were bravely risked
to save friend or stranger wedged in between the broken seats of the
smoking mass.
[Illustration]
Billy waited only to take one look and then he ran back to tell Star
that he must get out as soon as possible, as the flames were spreading
fast in his direction.
While Star was kicking at his partition with vehemence and Billy was
trying to help butt him loose, there was a terrific explosion and they
felt themselves being hurled through space. The car ahead of them had
contained some gasoline and when the fire reached it, it had exploded,
blowing up the car and the one next to it.
But, strange as it may seem, neither Star nor Billy Jr. were hurt
seriously. Star got a sprained shoulder and Billy a skinned leg, that
was all.
The wreck delayed them thirty-six hours, and while they were waiting
for the wrecking train to come to their assistance, clear the track,
and put the engines on again, Billy Jr. and Star had a fine time
roaming around the mountains and rummaging among the debris; or rather,
Billy Jr. did while Star stood off and watched.
Billy Jr. would nose around among all the broken boxes, packages,
trunks, etc., until he smelt some one’s luncheon; then he would eat it
up, pasteboard box and all, if he could not get the lid off. At last
he came to the remains of the dining-car, and amongst the wreckage he
found some fine apples and pears. He called to his friend, but Star
felt too timid to come at first until Billy persisted, but after awhile
he picked his way to where the apples were, half covered by the broken
pieces of the car.
While feasting on these the horse felt a hand laid on his mane, and on
looking around to see who it was he heard Pete, the man who had been
sent to take care of them, say:
“By all that is merciful, how did you and Billy escape from being
blowed to smithereens? I thought ye’s were both flying around the dog
star by now. But it’s mighty glad I am to find ye’s both alive, for me
master’s very fond of ye’s both and I wouldn’t ’a’ had anything happen
to ye’s for worlds while ye’s was in my care.”
Pete led Star off and, finding a piece of rope, tied him to a tree to
wait until another train was sent to carry them on, while he sat down
and commenced to smoke, too lazy to help clear away the wreckage. He
let Billy roam at will, for he knew he would not go far from the horse,
they were such good friends.
Presently they heard the purring and blowing of a train coming up the
grade to pick them up and carry them along on their journey. When Pete
heard it he said:
“It’s mighty glad I am to hear that, for I am as hungry as a bear, not
being able to ate tin cans and raw pertaters like you, Mr. Billy Jr.,
and grass and herbs like you, Mr. Star.”
The train presently reached them, and by the help of many hands,
everything was soon packed on board and they were off for the West once
more.
They did not have any more mishaps and reached Chicago one raw, windy
morning. As their train pulled into the yard, where it was to lie until
their car was switched on to the Santa Fe train that was to carry Billy
Jr. to the far West, he remarked:
“So this dirty, flat-looking city is Chicago, the far-famed first
World’s Fair city! Well, I don’t think much of it from what I have
seen.”
“Oh, but you shouldn’t judge any city by what you see of it from a
train, for remember, the tracks always run through the worst parts
of the city. You should see this city’s boulevards and parks. They
would make you change your mind, for they are among the finest in the
world. I saw them on my way East, for Mr. Wilder stopped here a week
and during that time kept me at a livery stable and every day he took
a horseback ride. In that way I saw all of the city, its handsome
residences, business districts, parks, and boulevards; and I can tell
you there are none finer, not even in your beloved Boston.”
“Don’t you think I could manage to run away and see it all?” asked
Billy.
“Not unless you wish to give up your trip West, for if you once left
this car you could never find your way back among all those hundreds of
others in the yard here that look just like it.”
“I could easily find my way back if that was all,” said Billy Jr., “but
the thing I am afraid of is that they might start West and leave me, or
switch you off to another yard where I could not find you.”
Their conversation was interrupted here by a man bringing them
something to eat and a bucket of water.
“I do not see why they did not run this car over to the Stock Yards so
these animals could have been taken out and fed and watered and their
car cleaned in proper shape,” Billy Jr. heard a red-headed man say, as
he pushed back the sliding door that shut them in. “For heaven’s sake!
I thought it was two horses we had been sent to look after and not a
car of goats,” as Billy Jr. appeared at the door.
“You can have the job,” said a jolly-looking, fat man. “I throw up my
share right here. I had all I wanted to do with goats when I was a boy.”
“Why, what did they ever do to you that you should take such a dislike
to them?” said the red-headed man.
“Well, I’ll tell you. The first thing they did to me when I was a
little shaver was to chew my hair off.”
“Chew your hair off! How in the world did they get a chance to do that?”
“It happened in this way,” said the fat man, “I went to sleep on a bank
by the side of the road one hot day, and when I woke up my hair was all
chewed off, and the old Billy had commenced on one leg of my trousers.
I stoned him good for this, but he got even a week after when he met
me coming home from one of the neighbors with a basket of eggs in one
hand and a pat of butter in the other. The first thing I knew I was
standing on my head in the pat of butter and the eggs were all broken
beside me with the basket turned upside-down. From that day on that
goat and I were enemies. He would do me a mean trick and I would pay
him back the first chance I got. But somehow or other he always seemed
to get the best of me. And this goat is as much like him as two peas;
and how do I know but what it is the same goat, though that was years
ago? Goats may live to be a hundred for all I know, and I don’t care to
take my chances; so I will attend to the horse and you look after the
goat.”
[Illustration]
As these words left his mouth Billy Jr. made a plunge for him and,
landing in the yard clear over his head, ran off and disappeared
behind some freight cars.
“Now, what did I tell you! He has got us in trouble right off, for most
likely he will never come back and we will have to pay for him. Drat
goats, I say! and double drat this one in particular!”
[Illustration]
_Billy Jr. Gets a Taste of the West._
Just outside the car yard fence was a Chinese laundry, and ever
since Billy’s car had been backed into the yard he had been watching
the Chinamen at work at the open door. So now that he was loose he
determined to get out of the yard and see what it was the Chinamen were
sticking their cheeks out with and blowing on the clothes.
When he appeared at the door it startled one of the Chinamen so that
he let all the water that was in his mouth and which he had intended
to sprinkle the clothes with, fly in Billy’s face. Now Billy thought
the Chinaman had spat in his face on purpose, and if there is one thing
more than another that will make a goat fighting mad, it is to spit or
even pretend to spit at him.
[Illustration]
With a plunge forward he butted the Chinaman through a curtained
partition that separated the front room from the back, knocking another
Chinaman that was bending over a washtub into the tub headforemost and
upsetting tub, Chinamen, and all. Then he quietly walked into the back
yard where some nicely starched shirts were hanging out to dry. These
he chewed until the two Chinamen tried to drive him out of the yard by
turning the hose on him. They had only given him one squirt when he
went for them and butted one into a limp heap in one corner of the
room, while the other took to his heels down the street, as if the old
man from the sulphur regions were after him.
On coming out of the laundry Billy Jr. heard Star whinnying for him in
a distressed, excited voice, and he bleated back, “I am coming, Star.
What’s the matter?”
Star answered back, “Hurry up or you will be left behind; they are
going to switch our car on to the Santa Fe train.”
Billy knew he would not have time to go around the way he had come, so
he crawled through a place in the fence where a couple of boards were
off, and gained his car just as it began to back out of the yard.
“Well, old fellow, where have you been? You look all wet, and you have
nearly given me nervous prostration by your absence. I have neighed and
neighed for you until my throat is sore.”
“I never heard you,” said Billy Jr., “for I was inside the laundry
seeing to a little washing,” and Billy Jr. commenced to laugh.
“What are you laughing at?” asked Star.
“At the funny frightened faces those pig-tailed Chinamen made at me
when they saw me coming for them. I wonder if the Chinaman I frightened
up the street has stopped running yet,” said Billy Jr.
“Tell me so I can laugh, too,” said Star, “for I know you have been in
mischief.”
While Billy was telling of his adventure the train started on its way,
westward ho.
The trip from Chicago to Kansas City was made without any excitement;
and after they had left Kansas City behind and were well on their way
across the state, Billy, who was looking out of his peephole, said:
“Well, I am glad I took your advice and did not try to walk or steal
rides to the West. I would have been a tired, foot-sore goat by this
time, if I had ever gotten as far as here, which I doubt. The map of
the United States I chewed up never gave me any idea of the distance
between the eastern states and the western. Look quickly, Star, at that
woman with a baby in her arm, coming out of that hole in the ground.
What on earth is she doing there? They don’t bury people alive out
here, do they?”
Star laughed and said, “No, she lives there. That is what they call a
‘dugout,’ and lots of people in Kansas live in them.”
“Well, when I have to live in a hole in the ground I hope I shall turn
into a groundhog and be done with it.”
“Mercy!” exclaimed Billy later, “isn’t it getting hot and oppressive in
here!”
“Yes, and it bodes no good for us, for I am afraid it is the calm
before the storm and that we are going to have a regular old-fashioned
Kansas blizzard or cyclone. Do you see that black cloud rolling toward
us from the northeast? Well, I think that is a Northeaster, as they
call them, bringing a sand storm with it.”
“Ugh! how cold it has grown all of a sudden. I feel chilled to the
bone, after that hot, stuffy air we have been having. And see how it is
raining off there.”
“Off there _now_, but in less than a minute it will be here; only that
is not rain but fine sand that will sting us like needles, blind us,
choke us, and nearly suffocate us before it blows over as suddenly as
it came. I know what they are like, for we passed through one on our
way East.”
Before Star had stopped talking the first particles of sand were flying
and had already shut one of Billy’s eyes and filled his mouth with grit.
“Oh, this is terrible! Why don’t some one come and shut our windows so
the nasty sand can’t sift in? I would not live in Kansas if they gave
me the whole state,” said Billy Jr., “if this is the kind of storms
they have here.”
Two days later they found themselves in New Mexico in sight of the main
range of the Rocky Mountains, and Star said that by three o’clock they
would be at Las Vegas, where their journey was to end. “And I shan’t
be sorry, for my legs ache from standing on them so many days without
lying down.”
They were met at Las Vegas by Mr. Wilder, who had been very much
worried about them since he heard of the wreck they had been in. But
his fears were laid at rest when he saw them, for both had come through
in fine shape and had stood the trip splendidly.
The next morning Billy was tied to a wagon filled with groceries and
provisions for Mr. Wilder’s ranch, whither they were bound, while Star
with his master on his back galloped ahead or followed behind as he saw
fit. Once when Star was walking beside him Billy said:
“Star, do you know I feel lonesome for the first time in my life. When
I look at those great solemn mountains, whose tops are always covered
with snow, I feel about as big as a fly and as if they were trying to
teach me a lesson in patience, and dear knows I need it badly enough.
How do they make you feel when you look at them?”
“I love them,” said Star, “and the nearer I get to them and the more I
look at them the nearer God seems to get. People think horses, dogs and
other animals don’t know about God, but I guess we feel His presence
more than they do sometimes, though we can’t talk about it.”
“How much further is it?” asked Billy Jr. “I hate walking behind a
wagon, taking all the dust from the horses’ heels. And this dust seems
to smart so when it gets in one’s eyes.”
“Yes, I know it does; that is because there is so much alkali in the
ground about here. Don’t you remember my telling you about Dead Lake
and the bones of animals you would see bleaching on its margin had you
tried to walk across the desert? Well, this is not a desert, but we
have to pass a small lake of alkali water, and, small as it is, you can
see the bones of animals lying beside it. There is very little water
out here, no large rivers, and only a few springs or little mountain
streams.”
“Quick! look off there toward the foot-hills; do you see that grey dog
running with a long loping trot?” continued Star.
“Yes, what of it?” said Billy Jr.
“Why, that is not a dog but a coyote or prairie wolf.”
“It is? I wish I had taken a better look at him,” answered Billy Jr.
Presently Star called out, “Cheer up, Billy. We are almost there, for I
can see the smoke now rising from the ranchhouse in the distance.”
_Billy Jr. as Leader of the Sheep._
Early the next morning a small flock of sheep was driven from the
corral, headed by their leader, an old mountain goat, who was always
selected to take out the new flocks for the first two or three times
and to break in the new leaders. And now it was Billy Jr.’s turn to
be broken in and taught how to lead the sheep and give warning of any
danger.
He found old Long Hair (so named from his exceedingly long hair) a
very agreeable, patient goat and willing to answer all the new goat’s
questions, which were not a few, as he wanted to know all about the
country and the ways of Western sheep. Billy knew he must keep up a
certain dignity or the sheep would never look up to him or have any
confidence in him. Soon he was to get their confidence and a name for
bravery in a way he least expected.
Old Long Hair had led them from the corral across the mesa and down
into a valley where a little water was to be found in the bottom of an
“aroya,” or deep ditch, which an Easterner would call a gully. It is
made by the water washing down the sides of the mountains and plowing
its way through the soft soil. When the flock got to the edge of this
aroya, Billy noticed that a large ram with immense double twisted horns
walked out of the flock toward him. But as he stood looking down into
the muddy yellow water thinking to himself that it would not be fit
to drink if he took the trouble to climb down after it, he forgot all
about the ram, until he heard a voice at his side say:
“Well, young fellow, what do you mean by coming along with this flock
without asking my permission? I suppose you know that I am master of
this herd and I don’t need the assistance of any dandyfied goat like
you. When I do, I will select one of my own choosing and not a stranger
and tenderfoot from the East.”
Billy Jr. laughed in his face and said:
“Don’t provoke me, old fellow, or I may give you a butt that will land
you in that muddy water.”
“What! You dare to speak to me like that, you--you impertinent
black-haired goat! If you dare to say another word I will hook you with
my strong horns.”
“And what do you suppose I would be doing while you were doing that?”
asked Billy. “What do you suppose I would be doing with my own long
horns about that time?”
“Look here, young impertinence, I don’t intend to stand here and talk
to you all morning, so be off with you.”
“Neither shall I waste any more time over you, Mr. Puffed-up, so take
that, and that!” said Billy, as he gave the ram two sharp hooks in his
side and sent him rolling to the bottom of the aroya.
[Illustration]
When he looked up he found that all the sheep had gathered around to
see how the bully of the herd was going to come out with the slick
black stranger. Billy made a bow to them and said:
“I would not explain to Mr. Puffer who I am, but I don’t mind telling
you all that I am the goat selected by your master to lead this flock,
and he brought me all the way from Boston to do it. He picked me out
because he thought I was a good fighter and could take care of myself
as well as protect you from the wolves, which he said were bad in these
parts. Now if any one of you thinks I can’t take care of myself and
would not make a good leader, I would like him to walk out of the flock
and say so, and we can fight it out while the rest of you look on and
see fair play.”
No sheep or goat walked out, and from that day until he left he was the
most beloved and admired of all the leaders the flock had ever had.
The next day Billy, as the acknowledged leader, determined when he
started out not to stop for water at that dirty aroya, but to push on
to the foot-hills and see if he could not find a nice, cool spring, or
at least some water that was not as thick with yellow mud as that they
had drunk the day before.
He let the sheep graze as they went, but he always managed to keep
ahead of them a few steps and in this way they unconsciously hurried
forward and by noon found themselves climbing the steep sides of
the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains, which in comparison with the
main-ranges seem like little hills.
[Illustration: HE FELT HIMSELF PINIONED ON A PAIR OF LONG, SHARP HORNS.]
Billy left them to graze there while he climbed to the top so he could
get a view of the surrounding country and see what was in the
opposite valley. The sight that met his eyes was beyond description--in
the distance lay the main range of the Rocky Mountains, deep blue in
color with a white cap of snow on their heads; and shading down in all
the intermediate colors between deep purple, blue and pale gray were
parallel ranges of mountains. Directly beneath him a silvery stream
wound its way through a fertile valley, and nestled on its banks was a
small settlement of adobe houses where lived the Mexicans that farmed
the land.
He had only to turn around and at his back lay an entirely different
scene. This one was grand in its lonesomeness, with its plains and
mesas destitute of trees or life. Out across the barren prairie on a
tableland equally as barren lay Fort Union, now deserted, from which
the soldiers used to ride to fight the Indians. Whichever way the eye
roamed one saw height, space, grandeur which awed into stillness and
made one think of God. It was a silent sermon felt, not spoken.
Suddenly Billy was rudely awakened from his reverie. There, skulking
stealthily along behind some rocks and bushes, he detected a moving
object that seemed to come creeping, creeping nearer and nearer to his
sheep. He looked again more intently, and yes, sure enough, it was a
wolf he saw making for the flock. In a second the responsibility of his
position, which he had forgotten for a time, rushed upon him, and with
bound after bound he started down the mountain side. Only a moment he
halted to see if the wolf were still coming, and as he did so, a little
white, tender lamb ran on ahead of its mother right into the jaws of
death, for not twenty steps ahead crouched the wolf ready to spring.
The little lamb came nearer. The wolf crouched on his hind legs a
little more, opened his mouth, and sprang; but instead of his teeth
closing on the tender morsel, he felt himself pinioned on a pair of
long, sharp horns.
But Billy was also surprised to find on closer inspection that his
supposed wolf was not a wolf at all, but one of the half-civilized dogs
from the placita, or Mexican village. It seems that these dogs will
guard their own flocks from an enemy, but will sneak out and eat up any
young lamb that strays from the fold of a stranger’s flock.
After this the sheep were more fond of Billy than ever and would go
anywhere he led them without a murmur.
_A Fight With Wolves._
Several days after this when Billy was out in the mountains he noticed
that it grew suddenly cold and that light flurries of snow began to
blow and swirl through the mountain passes. He climbed to the top of a
peak whence he could get a good view of the clouds and saw, advancing
from the direction of the main range, a terrible black cloud that was
hurling snow and sleet on the mountains and valleys as it came.
It took him but a moment to decide what to do, for he knew if the young
lambs were caught out in such a severe storm they would be frozen to
death. So he turned back to the flock and told them to follow him as
quickly as they could and not to stop to take even a mouthful of grass.
He led them into the deepest, most sheltered cañon he could find and
told them to stand close together so as to keep each other as warm as
possible and to be careful to see that the young sheep and lambs were
on the inside where it would be the warmest.
Here they stood while the storm raged and blew over and above the
cañon, but the sheep were so sheltered that scarcely any snow fell on
them, as the force of the wind carried it over. It grew darker and
darker and time to go home, but Billy said:
“We will have to stay here all night. It will never do to go out in
such a storm onto the open prairie. Half of you would perish with the
cold before you got across the valley.”
So there they stayed in their little sheltered nook undisturbed until
about midnight, when they were startled by hearing the weird yelping
bark of a pack of prairie wolves coming straight down the cañon. This
threw the sheep into a terrible panic, for they knew that same pack of
wolves only too well; they had made raids on them before and carried
off a baby lamb and now and then an old sheep.
Now Billy had never met or even seen a wolf in his life, but he had
absolutely no fear of them, as he knew they were too much like dogs to
be afraid of. Still he did not know how he would come out fighting a
whole pack by himself, and from the sound of their voices it seemed as
if there must be at least fifty of them.
“Now all you rams that have horns make a circle around the sheep, and
if a wolf tries to get through in order to get at a young sheep, fight
for your lives and theirs and don’t give up and run off. While you do
this I will run here and there wherever I think a wolf is most likely
to break through your circle and kill them one by one, for I am not
afraid of any wolf I ever heard of.”
This stand of Billy’s gave them more courage, but they were so
accustomed to turn tail and run at the approach of danger that Billy
was afraid they would do so now at the first sight they got of the
wolves.
All this time the wolves had been drawing nearer and nearer, until now
only the bend of the pass separated them from the flock.
Soon the yellowish light of seven pairs of eyes glared through the
blackness. This was met by the fiery red light in Billy Jr.’s eyes.
The trembling sheep dared not move nor look up. Not so Billy! His
eyes fairly blazed defiance, and with a snort of rage he bounded on
the leader of the pack and killed him before he knew what had struck
him. Billy was so black the wolves could not see him; all they could
see were the red balls of fire that seemed to be here, there, and
everywhere, the most deadly balls they had ever come in contact with,
for wherever they appeared a wolf lay dead the next moment.
Billy heard a bleat of agony, and looking to where it came from saw a
dark object in among the white, and knew that a wolf had broken through
the ring he had formed for their protection and the old rams were
deserting their post and running away.
“Come back, you cowards!” Billy cried. “You will only be killed if
you go out alone.” This brought them to their senses and they closed
in once more around the sheep, but left Billy to do all the fighting.
This he did with a vengeance and to such good purpose that the wolves
commenced to slink away, wondering what kind of a leader these sheep
had in the place of old Long Hair.
[Illustration]
The next morning Billy Jr. led the sheep home, thinking it would be
better for them in the corral than out on the mountains until the
weather moderated, for they were not used to such storms in this
climate.
When Mr. Wilder saw Billy leading the flock home he went to meet him on
Star and said:
“Billy, I was not mistaken in taking you for a born leader. You are
worth your weight in gold. But it beats me where you hid yourselves
last night, for we looked for you and could not find one of you. And
then for you to come back out of such a storm without even a lamb
missing is remarkable. I wonder the wolves did not get after you and
kill some of the young lambs, even if they did not freeze to death.”
And Billy Jr. wondered what he would have said could he see the dead
wolves lying in the cañon.
Three days after the dead bodies were found by a man from another ranch
when looking for his sheep that had been lost since the night of the
storm and, seeing some small flecks of wool sticking to the side of the
rocks opposite, he knew why his neighbor’s sheep had not been killed
and his had. He immediately rode over and told Mr. Wilder, who rode
back to see where Billy had fought his brave battle and saved so many
lives. From that day on Billy was the hero he deserved to be and no
amount of money could have bought him.
As the sheep stayed in the corral the next day after the storm, Billy
thought he would try and find Star and have a talk with him. So he
jumped the low wall of the corral and soon found his friend in the
stable-yard chewing some corn husks.
“Hello, Billy Jr.! I am glad to see you,” said Star. “I have not laid
eyes on you for ages and I am anxious to learn what you think of our
Western country by this time.”
“Oh, I think it is good enough as far as the country goes for any one
who likes it, but I am tired of it and am going back to civilization.”
“What, tired of it already, and with all the honors you have had heaped
upon you!” said Star.
“Yes. I don’t like buffalo grass as a steady diet nor dirty cañon water
to drink. And those sheep are altogether too stupid to suit me. I would
rather live in a city; and that is what I have come to see you about. I
am not ready to go home yet, but I can’t make up my mind whether to go
to old Mexico or California.”
“Hear him talk, will you! He talks of going to old Mexico or California
as I would of going into the next pasture. But, my dear fellow, how do
you expect to get there? and are you aware that both of these places
are hundreds of miles from here?” said Star.
“Yes, I know they are, but what of that? If I want to go there I can
get there. All I have to do is to wish for a thing hard enough and I
get it. You know I made up my mind to come West, and here I am.”
“Yes, you are a plucky fellow, and I half believe that if we had not
brought you, you would have carried out your threat of walking here,”
said Star.
“You are right, I should,” said Billy Jr.
“Well, if you want my advice, I would go to old Mexico, as I think
there would be more of interest there for you than in California.”
“I don’t know whether to follow the railroad tracks or start across
country.”
“Oh, Billy! You will be the death of me, the way you talk of our great
distances as if they were only a few miles,” said Star.
“Here comes the man to chase me back to the corral and I suppose he is
wondering how I ever got out. I want to thank you for your kindness to
me and to tell you how much I have enjoyed your friendship, which I
hope nothing will ever break. I trust we will meet again in the East
some day. Good luck to you and good-bye for a time. When I see you
again I will have something of interest to tell you. Good-bye again,”
and Billy bounded over the fence as the man walked in the gate to chase
him out, while Star whinnied his good-bye.
_Billy Jr. Learns Something about Cowboys and Indians._
One morning three months later Billy Jr. appeared, tired, cold, and
hungry, in front of a ranchman’s door; and was first seen by the
Chinese cook, who opened the kitchen door of the long adobe house to
see what the weather was like. There was Billy by the well, trying to
get a drink out of the almost empty bucket on the well-curb.
Billy’s first thought when he saw the Chinaman was to run away,
for he had been so illy treated lately--shot at, stoned, and
half-starved--that he had lost some of his assurance and confidence in
people and preferred to look them well over before he got too near.
But the Chinaman appeared so inoffensive that he stood his ground and
stared back when the man rubbed his eyes to see if it really were a
large, live billy-goat by the well; his first thought being that he had
not quite got over his opium pipe of last night. But when Billy Jr.
bleated a good-morning to him, he came out of his stupor, walked to
the well, and drew a bucket of water for the tired, thirsty beast.
From that day Billy was a fast friend of the Chinaman. Never in his
life had anything tasted so good and refreshing as that cool drink of
water after his long, dusty trip across the plains and mesas.