When I asked him how the wind could be so strong as to brace up both the pad and his story, he said he was writing in a lighter vein than usual.
We were in sight of Brighton next morning when a strange accident happened to Pod. We were approaching a field of grain on an irrigated ranch when, suddenly, he was struck on the head by a mastodon grasshopper and knocked senseless out of the saddle. At once Don chased the creature and headed him off, while Coonskin lassoed him and bound him on Damfino. We took the wonder to Denver. There Pod put the thing in a bottle of alcohol, but it hadn't been there more than a half hour when it kicked out the bottom, and almost upset a street car in trying to escape. Again the grasshopper was captured, then poisoned and skinned, and the bones were expressed to the Smithsonian Museum.
About one o'clock we left the line of the B. & M. railroad, and cut across the plain six miles to the Union Pacific, which we had left on the previous week. Then we began to descend into the verdant valley of the Platte. Great fields of grain waved in the breeze on either hand. The song of the reaper was cheering, the glistening snow on the distant Rockies, cooling.
At last our caravan ambled into Brighton. It impressed me as a pretty town; after crossing a two hundred mile desert, I was in condition to compliment any sort of a place. That night we traveled ten miles and camped near the Nine Mile House, where, next morning, we were disappointed not to obtain breakfast.
Beautiful, far-famed Denver loomed up on the distant plain. The smoke from her smelters curled on high, a dusky sign of prosperity. We breakfasted three miles nearer the city, and at two P. M. our picturesque outfit strode up Seventeenth street and anchored in front of the Albany Hotel. Denver at last!
[CHAPTER XXXVI.]
Two pretty dairy maids
BY PYE POD.
At the head of the procession strode the four heralds. Silently they marched, in silence the populace received them. The spectacle reminded very old men of the day the great Axaya was born in mournful pomp to Chapultepec.—The Fair God.
When I had taken a bird's-eye view of Denver, and visited many of its handsome streets and buildings, and met its hospitable citizens, I dubbed it one of the most attractive cities.