"It's immense!" added Frank.
"It's immense, all right," agreed Billy, with a smile. "You haven't begun to see the prairies yet. It's like the ocean; you don't appreciate it until you've seen it a dozen times—or more. It takes a long while to get acquainted with the West."
As the train passed on, the boys saw signs of the extensive way in which agricultural operations were carried on in that locality. Here were no small farms, of a few acres each, but a vast extent of territory.
They passed great herds of cattle, and whizzed by long trains of the patient beasts which were being shipped East. They saw big fields, extending farther than their eyes could reach, under cultivation, or being prepared.
Then there was plowing, which was being done in one or two places. Here were no horses hitched to the implement, with a man or boy following, with the lines about his waist. Instead, gang plows—a score or more—were pulled through the mellow soil at once by many teams or by a steam engine.
"Some plowing, that!" commented Frank.
"I should say yes," agreed Andy.
"That's the only way we can get work done in the West," said Billy. "All the operations are on a large scale. Why, if a farmer or rancher tried to do as you folks do out East—work a farm with a team of horses and one hired man—the West wouldn't be half as developed as it is to-day. There'd be buffaloes and Indians here instead of wheat lands and cattle ranches. The West is big—as big as all outdoors, and it takes big men and big business to keep it going!"
He grew enthusiastic as he proceeded, and the Racer boys saw that he meant what he said.
"You must like the West and the prairies," commented Frank.