“No, sir,” confessed Davy.
“I hear Mr. Majors timed his outfit once, when it was in good trim; and it was sixteen minutes from the moment the men grabbed their yokes until the teams were hitched and the train was ready to start. That’s pretty fair for six yoke of bulls. I don’t believe we can beat it, but we’re going to try after a bit.”
“This noon I’ll show you how to pop a whip,” called Joel to Dave.
The men used their whips chiefly for the noise they made. They drove with the whips; the long lash flew out over the backs of the six yoke and seemed to crack wherever the wielder wished it to crack. Sometimes it barely flicked the back of some ox who required a little urging, but it never landed hard. Those bull whips were like living things, and in the hands of Joel and his rivals were as accurate as a rifle. The most of the men carried their whips with the lash trailing over their shoulder ready to be jerked forward like a cowboy’s rope. Dave felt a burning ambition to “pop” a whip. It must be quite an art.
The trail continued to be lined with emigrants, all pushing west, the vast majority for the “Pike’s Peak diggin’s,” but a few for California by way of the Overland Trail to Fort Laramie, and on over the South Pass to Salt Lake and the farthest West. The road was littered with cast-off stuff—so much of it that nobody seemed to think it worth picking up again.
“Great times for the Indians,” quoth Charley. “But they don’t savvy stoves and furniture yet. What they like most is the hoop iron off of the baled hay that the Government sends out to the posts. That hoop iron is fine for arrow points; many a poor fellow crossing the plains is killed with Government hoop-iron.”
“Will we meet many Indians, do you think?” asked Davy.
Charley shook his head.
“We may meet a few gangs of beggars; but the trail is too thick just now for much trouble. The Indians haven’t got roused yet and started in on the war-path. But they will, later. I reckon if you get off the trail a ways you’ll meet with plenty trouble, though. On the trail there are so many outfits that they can help each other, you see. The Indians are learning to shy off from bull outfits. We’re ready for them any time, and it costs them too many scalps. But when these plains begin to be settled with ranches then look out for the Indians.”
That noon the train halted on the far side of a creek. According to Joel, trains always tried to cross a creek before camping, in case a sudden storm might come and hold the train back by swelling the ford. They corralled, this noon, by a new evolution. One-half the train, in regular order, formed a half of the circle; the other half then formed the second half of the circle. This was called corralling with the right and left wings.