The boys looked at their handiwork with no little pride and pronounced it as fine a cutter as the eastern variety. To be sure it was not beautiful to look at, and did not bear any highly nourished name like "Flyaway" or "P. D. Q.," but it did not lack decoration altogether, for on one side was branded "Use Higgins' Soap," while the other commemorated "Ruby Brand Tomatoes."
In spite of its roughness and clumsiness it was possessed of good speed and strength enough to withstand all the ill-usage the boys gave it. When the snow was soft they used broad runners made of barrel staves, which they made fast to each side, and thus turned their sled into a toboggan.
If John and Ben wanted anything; they had to make it or earn enough to buy it—money was not so plentiful that it could be spent on toys and mere amusements, and so they frequently had to devise ways of getting the things they longed for. John had made up his mind that he must have a saddle, bridle, spurs, and quirt (a short, flexible, braided whip) of his own; and when he found that none of these things would be given him, he determined to earn enough money to buy them. Ben, too, had set his heart on owning a repeating rifle (a style of arm that was rather rare in those days) and so the brothers agreed to work together at trapping, mining, or turning a penny in any way that offered. The sum total was to be divided in the spring, when each would buy the long-desired articles.
As spring drew near, Mr. Worth decided to move along and open another mine to the westward, the first one being now in good working order.
Again the family packed up their household goods, abandoned the dug-out that had sheltered them during the long winter months, and started off on a pilgrimage. The spring was well advanced and the verdure of the prairie was in its prime. Wild flowers were plentiful and the air was filled with the melody of the song birds, that of the meadow lark being sweetest and most sustained. Robins, thrushes, plover, and curlews—all did their share to make spring beautiful.
Many prairie-dog villages were passed. The queer little beasts sat on the mounds of earth beside the holes that served for homes, their curiosity drawing them out. The travellers took snap shots at them, but they were as quick as lightning and never stayed above ground long enough to allow of careful aim.
John's industry had made him the proud possessor of a new saddle, whose creaking was music in his ears, and even old Baldy seemed to be pleased with his finery, for he pranced around like a two-year-old and arched his neck in a way that seemed to say, "I'm about the finest thing a-top of this earth." Ben had achieved his aim also, and was the owner of a brand-new repeating Spencer rifle, the result of the sale of the winter's catch.
As the train went further westward the trail grew more and more indistinct, and it became the duty of the boys to go ahead and trace it out. Later, when even the barely discernible wheel tracks had disappeared, it was necessary for them to pick out the best route and also to find the camp sites.
This duty was a delightful one, for new country was continually opening before them, and adventures of all kinds might offer at any moment.
"Ain't those antelopes over there by that little hill?" said John one day, pointing to one side.