It was a grand sight, this moving. To this day some of the boomers say it was the grandest sight they ever beheld.
Every heart was full of hope. Past trials and hardships were forgotten. The boomers were to enter the richest farming lands in the States and there start life anew.
The movement was made in silence and in almost utter darkness. Of course, it was impossible to hide the news from the citizens of Arkansas City, but the train was well on its way before the news had any chance of spreading.
At the time of which we write there were several trails to Honnewell from Arkansas City. The regular road was a fair one in good weather, but, after such a rain as had fallen, this trail was hub-deep with mud in more than one spot.
"Oi'll not go thot trail," was Delaney's comment. "Oi'll take the upper road."
"Thot's roight, Mike," put in Rosy, his wife. "It's not meself as wants to stick fast in this black mud. Sure, and it's worse nor the bogs of Erin!"
"Vot's dot road you vos speakin' apout alretty?" put in Humpendinck, who had as heavy a wagon as anyone.
"It's a better road nor this, Humpy," replied Mike Delaney. "Folly me an' we'll rach Honnewell afore enny of 'em, mark me wurrud."
Thus encouraged, Humpendinck followed Delaney on the upper trail, and, seeing the two go off, half a dozen followed.
It was more than half an hour after before Pawnee Brown heard of their departure.