Poor man! I thought, is that what gives you such a hardened expression; and I have been judging you so harshly.
"The only one from the old home," had a tone of sadness that set me to thinking, and I pressed my face close to the window pane, and had a good long think all to myself, while the rest dropped off to sleep. Is there not another aboard this train who is the only one away from the old home? And all alone, too. Yet I feel many dear ones are with me in heart, and to-night dear father's voice trembled as he breathed an evening benediction upon his children, and invokes the care and protection of Him who is God over all upon a daughter, now so far beyond the shelter of the dear old home; while a loving mother whispers a fervent "amen." By brothers and sisters I am not forgotten while remembering their own at the altar, nor by their little ones; and in fancy I see them, white robed for bed, sweetly lisping, "God bless auntie Pet, and bring her safe home." And ever lifting my own heart in prayer for protection and resting entirely upon God's mercy and goodness, I go and feel I am not alone. Had it not been for my faith in the power of prayer, I would not have undertaken this journey; but I thought as I looked up at the bright moon, could one of your stray beams creep in at mother's window, and tell her where you look down upon her daughter to-night, would it be a night of sleep and rest to her? I was glad they could rest in blissful ignorance, and I would write and tell them all about it when I was safe back. Of course I had written of my intended trip, but they did not know the character of Valentine, nor did I until I was about ready to start. But I knew Mr. Buchanan would not ask me to go where it was not proper I should go. So gathering all these comforting thoughts together, I rested, but did not care to sleep, for—
Oh, moon! 'tis rest by far more sweet,
To feast upon thy loveliness, than sleep.
Humming Ten thousand (or 1,500) miles away, Home, sweet home, and the Lord's Prayer to the same air, I keep myself company.
It was as bright and beautiful as night could be. The broad plains were so lit up I could see far away over a rolling prairie and sand-hills glistening in the frosty air; while many lakelets made a picture of silvery sheen I had never looked upon before. The moon peeped up at me from its reflection in their clear waters, and I watched it floating along, skipping from lakelet to lakelet, keeping pace alongside as though it, too, was going to preach in or write up Valentine, and was eager to be there with the rest of us. It was a night too lovely to waste in sleep, so I waked every moment of it until the sun came up and put the moon and stars out, and lit up the great sandy plains, with a greater light that changed the picture to one not so beautiful, but more interesting from its plainer view.
It is beyond the power of my pen to paint the picture of this country as I saw it in the early morning light, while standing at the rear door of the car. Through sand-cuts, over sand-banks, and now over level grassy plains. The little rose bushes leafing out, ready to bloom, and sticking out through the sandiest beds they could find. Where scarcely anything else would think of growing were tiny bushes of sand-cherries, white with blossoms. It seemed the picture was unrolled from beneath the wheels on a great canvas while we stood still; but the cars fairly bounded over the straight, level road until about six o'clock, when "Valentine," rings through the car, and Judge Tucker cautioned me to "get ready to die," and we land at Valentine. He and Rev. Herbert went to breakfast at a restaurant (the only public eating house, meals 50 cents), and Mr. McAndrew, his mother, Mrs. P., and I went into the depot, and lost no time in telephoning to the Fort that there were four passengers awaiting the arrival of the ambulance, and then gathered about the stove to warm. Finding there was little warmth to be had from it, Mrs. P. and I thought we would take a walk about the depot in the bright sun. But I soon noticed a number of men gathered about a saloon door, and fearing they might take my poke hat for a target, I told Mrs. P. I thought it was pleasanter if not warmer inside. I seated myself close to that dear old Scotch lady, whom I felt was more of a protection to me than a company of soldiers would be. All was quiet at first, but as there is no hotel in Valentine, the depot is used as a resting place by the cow-boys, and a number of them came in, but all quiet and orderly, and only gave us a glance of surprise and wonder. Not one bold, impudent stare did we receive from any one of them, and soon all fears were removed, and I quietly watched them. One whom I would take to be a ranch owner, had lodged in the depot, and came down stairs laughing and talking, with an occasional profane word, of the fun of the night before. He was a large, red-faced young looking man, with an air of ownership and authority; and the boys seemed to go to him for their orders, which were given in a brotherly sort of way, and some were right off to obey. All wore leather leggings, some trimmed with fur; heavy boots, and great spurs clanking; their leather belt of revolvers, and dirk, and the stockman's sombrero. Some were rather fine looking in features, but all wore an air of reckless daring rather than of hardened wickedness. One who threw himself down to sleep on an improvised bed on the seats in the waiting room, looked only a mere boy in years, rather delicate in features, and showed he had not been long at the life he was now leading; and it was evident he had once known a better life.
Another, equally as young in years, showed a much more hardened expression; yet he, too, looked like a run-away from a good home.
One poor weather-beaten boy came in and passed us without turning his head, and I thought him an old gray-headed man, but when I saw his face I knew he could not be more than twenty-five. He seemed to be a general favorite that was about to leave them, for, "I'm sorry you are going away, Jimmie," "You'll be sure to write to us, Jimmie, and let us know how you get along down there," and like expressions came from a number. I did not hear a profane word or rough expression from anyone, excepting the one before spoken of. I watched them closely, trying to read them, and thought: "Poor boys! where are your mothers, your sisters, your homes?" for theirs is a life that knows no home, and so often their life has a violent ending, going out in the darkness of a wild misspent life.
As the ambulance would not be there for some time, and I could not think of breakfasting at the restaurant, Mrs. P. and I went to a store and got some crackers and cheese, on which we breakfasted in the depot. Then, tired and worn out from my night of watching, and all fear banished, I fell asleep with my head resting on the window-sill; but was soon aroused by Rev. Herbert coming in to ask us if we wished to walk about and see the town.