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Updated: June 20, 2025
He was waiting for her when she came out into the yellow evening light, squatting there in his buckboard, reins sagging. "There's kindlin' to last a week," he said, "the ax is in the barn, an' ye'll find a bin full o' corn meal there an' a side o' bacon in the cellar. Them hens," he added wistfully "is Dominickers. She was fond o' them an' the Chiny ducks, too." "I'll be kind to them," she said.
But the smell of paint made me think of Channel passages, so off I went with Dinky-Dunk, a la team and buckboard, to the Dixon Ranch to see about some horses, nearly seventy miles there and back. It was a glorious autumn day, and a glorious ride, with "Bronk" and "Tumble-Weed" loping along the double-trail and the air like crystal. Dinky-Dunk and I sang most of the way.
But the little girl continued to squint against the sun until, in descending into a draw, the black haze behind was lost to view. The biggest brother kept the blue mare at a good gait, and the road, with its narrow strip of weedy grass down the center, flew by under the bouncing buckboard. Soon the long, gradual incline leading up from the ravine was climbed.
He sat down in the seat with a deliberate effort to show his scorn, picked the reins up more firmly, glanced around at the rear of his buckboard to see that his parcels were safe, ignored the cowed men, and without ever looking at them started his horses forward.
Best Indian in all the Hudson's Bay country!" re-echoed Billy, who had arrived, driving the other buckboard. But Five Feathers only sat silent. Then, looking directly at Billy, he said, "You ride day and night, too. You nearly kill that horse?" "Yes, I nearly did," admitted Billy. "Good brother you.
"That's real far, ain't it?" remarked the man in the buckboard, with a little twitch to the corner of his mouth, but much deep gravity in his eye. "Which way you goin', stranger?" "We're going across the hills into the Half Moon country. It's forty miles farther, they tell me." "Uh-uh. That's what they call it. An' a darn long forty mile, or I'll put in with you."
You put me in a hitchin' strap." "All right, Mr. Lander," said the clerk, meekly. The landlord had caught the peremptory note in Lander's voice, and he came out of his room again to see that there was nothing going wrong. "It's all right," said Lander, and went out and got into his buckboard. "Same horse you had yesterday," said the young clerk. "You don't need to spare the whip."
Jimmy, stout, stolid, betraying nothing of visible emotion, and then the pony, rough-shod and shaggy, trudged on, while mutual hand-waves were kept up until the old Hudson Bay Post dropped out of sight, and the buckboard with its lightsome load of hearts deliriously happy, jogged on over the uneven trail. She was "all the rage" that winter at the provincial capital.
"And I guess it's just as well." That afternoon Westover saw Jeff helping Cynthia Whitwell into his buckboard, and then, after his lively horse had made some paces of a start, spring to the seat beside her, and bring it to a stand. "Can I do anything for you over at Lovewell, Mr. Westover?" he called, and he smiled toward the painter.
The master-mechanic had gone aside to hold converse with a man who had driven up in a buckboard, coming from the direction in which Little Butte lay. "Goodloe told me the wreck-wagons were here, and I thought you would probably be along," the buckboard driver was saying. "How are things shaping up? I haven't cared to risk the wires since Bigsby leaked on us."
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