Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 23, 2025
But you know how it is the long trail's in my blood now. I can't settle down." Wingate nodded. The young man smilingly went on: "I want to see how it is in Oregon. What with new titles and the like and a lot of fighting men cast in together out yonder, too there ought to be as much law out there as here, don't you think? So I'm going to seek my fortune in the Far West.
The young men discussed this while they lay in their blankets in a water-gutted gulch not too near the fire they had built. "Like huntin' for a needle in a haystack," said Bob. "Their trail's done petered out. They might be in any one of a hundred pockets right close, or they may have bore 'way off to the right. All they got to do is hole up and not build any fires."
At the foot of this range was grass in plenty, and, occasionally, a water hole, made possible by the fact that End's father had brought the waters of the Pocut River to the valley by means of the tunnel flume. "The trail's plain enough for a blind man to follow," said Yellin' Kid, who rode beside Snake. "But it's going to get harder in a little while," spoke Snake.
Trail's office and decided to call a Whole World's Temperance Convention which should not exclude one-half the world, and that the half which was doing the most effective work for temperance. After they left the Brick Church meeting there were many speeches made condemning the action of women in taking public part in any reforms, led by Rev. Fowler, of Utica, Rev.
And at the trail's end the unkempt, ribald crew swarmed their dark and dirty camp as a band of pirates a galleon. In the work was little system, but much efficacy. The men gambled, drank, fought, without a word of protest from their leader.
The plains are all alive alive with hostile red men; and the worst one of all he that had the golden scalp is but a half-breed Cheyenne Dog. Never the Apaches were so bad as he." The cattle horned about the well, with their drivers shouting and struggling to direct them, as we went wide to avoid the mud, then passed up to the rise beyond which lay the old trail's westward route.
Under the old order business would have been lively at night, when most of the herdsmen were at leisure. As it was, they trooped curiously around the square, some of them who had looked forward on the long drive to a hilarious blowout at the trail's end resentfully sarcastic, but the greater number humorously disposed to make the most of it.
The little cabin had the utterly forlorn look of a house that has long been unoccupied. "Woa there! Stand still, can't you?" said Sharp, tugging at the reins. "A tidy pull, that last bit," said Frank. "Trail's very bad." "Stand still, you brute! Wait a minute, Mrs. Taylor." "I guess she wants to get home."
Sandy knows it" "Sandy" was Forsyth's military pet name "but he's too set to back out now. Besides, who wants to back out? or what's to be gained by it? We've come out here to fight the Cheyennes. We're gettin' to 'em, that's all. Only there's too damned many of 'em. This trail's like the old Santa Fé Trail, wide enough for a Mormon church to move along.
"I guess those are the best trails from what you say," was Rathburn's yawning comment. "Them's the best," the other added. "There's another trail going out below town that follows southeast along a big ridge, but that trail's as far as the road. When you goin' up?" "I dunno," replied Rathburn noncommittally. "Say, I guess I know where that cabin is on the left side of the road going up.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking