A gray-haired veteran of about sixty rose and made his way to the platform.
“I’m glad to be here, young folks,” he began; “but I don’t like this preachin’ business one bit—never could git used to it. I’ve often said I’d ruther drive four yoke o’ steers from Winter Quarters to the valleys than make a speech. But maybe I kin tell you a few things ’bout pioneerin’ that’ll interest you.
“I’ve pioneered it all my days. That’s why I’m here. Come into this valley to git away from the crowds. From the look o’ things here to-night, I’ll soon hev to be movin’ again. The way these valleys settle up is a caution.
“But you want to hear somethin’ else. Well, I come in ’47, not with the first band, but soon after. We had one hundred and thirty-four wagons in our company, all pulled by oxen, three or four yoke to the wagon. Every night we would make a corral of ’em—the wagons, I mean—by swingin’ ’em in a circle with the tongues pintin’ out—you see, leavin’ two openin’s so’s we could drive the cattle in to yoke ’em. Fer we herded ’em out on the hills at night when there wa’n’t any Injuns about, or when there wa’n’t danger of buffaloes stampedin’ the stock.
“Talkin’ o’ buffaloes, they was so thick they fairly swarmed. Down on the Platte one day we had to stop our train fer three hours to let ’em pass. They had the right o’ way whenever they wanted it, I tell you. Nothin’ could stop ’em when they got goin’ on that steady lope of theirs. Kill ’em? Yes, all we wanted. Buffalo meat is mighty fine eatin’; I kin taste it yet. But then I guess our appetites wa’n’t so pertickler then as they are nowadays.
“I guess that’s enough talk fer to-night. You want to dance. I kin see you do. That’s all right, too; I believe in lettin’ folks have a good time as long as they have it right. Jest pitch in now and enjoy yourselves; but don’t forget the Lord, even when you’re havin’ fun.”
An outburst of hand clapping and some stamping of feet followed the speech. Even the rowdy cowboys got sport out of it; for they kept still to the end, then they set up a hearty laugh, as Dick Davis said smartly:
“Gee! I’m glad that old ox-puncher’s quit. I’m getting nervous to dance again.”
“Take your partners for a polka,” called the floor manager.
The boys broke from their corners to make a rush across the floor for the girls.