They both saw approaching across the prairies to the eastward a low-lying cloud of smoke. It was the first railroad train either of them had ever seen. They became very much excited.
“Look at her come!” said Cinquo. “Bet I ain’t skeered to ride on that thing! Now you see!”
“You’re a long ways off when you say it!” scoffed Len Hersey. “She’s goin’ to look a heap bigger and dangerouser, clost up. I bet we’d have to blindfold you and put two ropes on you afore we could put you on that there train, and then you’d be so skeered you’d shake your spurs off.”
“I ain’t got no more shakes than what you have,” said the boy. “You ain’t saw any more railroad kyars than what I have. But I don’t reckon I’ll go to town untel we sell our cows.”
“Nor me,” nodded Len. “But did you ever see such a town like this here one, now? They don’t savvy dobe none, it seems like; they don’t dry no mud; they just cut slabs of grass roots and build ’em up into a house, and put on a dirt roof. I looked inside of one as I rid by. It was lined with red caliker, walls and ceilings; no gypsum to white it up, nor nothing. Yet humans was livin’ in it. They live in them dugouts, too—just push a hole back into a bank an’ crawl in atter the hole like badgers. An’ there ain’t no trees; an’ when they do have trees, hain’t no moss on ’em. I ain’t saw a cactus nowheres, an’ as fer mesquite, I’m a notion to ride into one o’ these plum thickets an’ stick some plum thorns in my laigs, so’s’t a feller kin feel more nache’l.”
Meantime the continuous shriek of the locomotive whistle had brought to the station practically the entire population of the city of Abilene. It was a great day—a trail herd and a railroad train all in one day.
From the four coaches which made up the train there now descended an astonishing number of men, comprising all sorts and conditions of humanity. Some obviously were Eastern, and as many bore the imprint of the border. All of them pushed on toward the head of the train. There was no station building. The Drovers’ Cottage stood then for all of Abilene, and in that general direction the newcomers made their way. The ubiquitous McCoyne was first to greet them.
“Right this way, gentlemen!” said he. “Let me lead you to our hotel, the finest in the West. Welcome to Abilene, my friends! Yonder is the stockyards. I suppose some of you are looking after cattle. There is some in there now, and there is three thousand more right north of town. If you’re looking for cattle, we’ve got them and don’t you never doubt it! Gentlemen, you certainly have come to the right place. Boys, where’s the band?”
With some sort of instinct of his own McCoyne more especially addressed a quiet-looking sandy-bearded man in dark clothing, who seemed to be a man of distinct purposes and direct methods in life.
“How’d you like to ride out this evening and see our herd? They’ve just got in from Texas this morning.”