BILLY JR. soon found himself at the neighbor’s, bleating for the colt to kick down the door. This was done with two kicks and Billy Jr. walked in and was introduced to the horse from the West.
“I am glad to make your acquaintance,” said the horse. “I hear you are thinking of going West and would like to know something about it and how to get there. I also heard that you thought of walking and trusting to stealing rides on the cars if you could not get there in any other way. Now I hate to discourage you but, strong and brave as you are, you could not do it. You might get as far as the Great Plains, but these you could never cross. You would die of hunger and thirst if not with lonesomeness long before you had got a quarter of the way. Imagine yourself on a vast prairie without a hill or a tree in sight; the ground as level as if rolled out with a rolling-pin and covered with sage brush and short buffalo grass, coarse as straw and dry as chips; not a living thing in sight but a jack-rabbit or two and a buzzard flying overhead waiting for your dead body. This buzzard has been following you for he knows from experience that it won’t be many days before you are stark and cold in death, either from hunger or thirst. Or, if the worst should come to the worst, you might be torn to pieces by a pack of prairie wolves as hungry as yourself.
“Sometimes cattle stray from the flock and try to cross the plains alone and get as far as Dead Lake—a lake of alkali water that lies in the desert. This water is as clear as crystal and looks so tempting to the poor thirsty cattle that they often drink it, though all around its margin are the bleached bones of other cattle that have drunk of its poisoned waters and died. One can’t blame them for drinking, for it looks so cool and refreshing to them as it lies there clear and tempting, rippled by the breezes that blow over it. Oh, no! Mr. Billy, better wait and content yourself here or get shipped through in a car as I was.”
All this gave Billy Jr. some things to think about and he went home feeling blue and depressed and almost ready to give up his cherished plans. But next morning he awoke with the same burning desire to go, and he made up his mind that faint heart never got anywhere nor did anything, and he decided he would start anyway and follow the sun in its direct course west day after day and see where it would bring him. If it did not lead him where he wanted to go, it would at least give him adventures, hardships, and pleasures, and they in themselves were worth going after.
About 11 o’clock in the morning, while he was telling Day that his mind was made up to start the next day at sunrise, he looked up and saw the horse from the West turn into their lane with a fine-looking gentleman on his back. He ran over to the fence to see if he could not get a word or two with the horse. When pretty near to him, the gentleman stopped his horse and Billy Jr. heard him say:
“My soul! but that is a fine-looking goat. I would give a hundred dollars to have him West to lead my flocks.”
“Bah, bah,” bleated Billy Jr., which meant, “You can have me for ten cents.” As the gentleman rode on, Billy Jr. said to himself, “Oh, why can’t people understand us as we can them? for then I could plead with him to take me West!” And he walked off and butted an inoffensive goat in his anger and tried to pick a quarrel with him. But the goat knew Billy Jr.’s reputation too well and refused to fight.
Right after dinner Billy Jr. saw Mr. Windlass and the gentleman who had ridden into the lane that morning coming into the pasture. He did not go to meet them because he felt cross and disagreeable, so he stood staring at them, chewing grass like an old man chews tobacco. However, they came straight up to where he stood, and he heard Mr. Windlass tell the gentleman how he and the white goat over there (pointing to Day) had come to him one morning and he had never been able to learn to whom they belonged or where they came from, though he had advertised in all the papers.