The men were not cruel to him, for they gave him grass and hay, and also water to drink on the journey. But for all that the buffalo wished himself out of the cage. The jolting of the wagon made his sore shoulder ache more and more.
Toward evening, after the piece of canvas had been taken off, Shaggo caught sight, through the bars of his cage, of several buildings.
“We’ll stay here to-night,” said one of the men. “Then go on to the railroad in the morning.”
In the morning the wagon started off once more. In about two hours Shaggo saw a lot of black smoke.
“Oh, the prairies must be on fire!” thought the buffalo. He had heard Wuffo tell of prairie fires. But the men did not seem to be alarmed.
“There’s the smoke from the train!” called one of the men. “Drive fast or we’ll miss it!”
The horses galloped, and soon the wagon, with Shaggo on it in the cage, drew up beside a train. The mighty buffalo, strong as he was, felt frightened at the strange sights, sounds, and smells. Black smoke poured from a snorting monster that Shaggo, later, came to know was a steam locomotive. Then there was the rumbling of big cars that looked like boxes on wheels. Then came a loud shriek, such as ten or twenty prairie wolves might have given if they all howled at once.
Shaggo, in the cage, was soon loaded into a box car, and the door was pulled shut.
“It’s as dark as it was in the hole where I landed after I jumped the fence!” thought the caged buffalo. “I wonder what will happen next? I don’t like it here!”
For some time nothing happened, except that there was a constant rumbling and roaring as the train puffed over the prairies. Shaggo could see nothing, and no one seemed to be in the car with him. After a while, however, the door was opened and a man came in to give the buffalo some hay and water. Then the door was shut again and it was once more dark. Shaggo did not enjoy his first train ride.