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preserved flies with their heels up and looking sorry they had invested
there。
The station…keeper upended a disk of last week's bread； of the shape and
size of an old…time cheese； and carved some slabs from it which were as
good as Nicholson pavement； and tenderer。
He sliced off a piece of bacon for each man； but only the experienced old
hands made out to eat it； for it was condemned army bacon which the
United States would not feed to its soldiers in the forts； and the stage
company had bought it cheap for the sustenance of their passengers and
employees。 We may have found this condemned army bacon further out on
the plains than the section I am locating it in； but we found itthere
is no gainsaying that。
Then he poured for us a beverage which he called 〃Slum gullion；〃 and it
is hard to think he was not inspired when he named it。 It really
pretended to be tea； but there was too much dish…rag； and sand； and old
bacon…rind in it to deceive the intelligent traveler。
He had no sugar and no milknot even a spoon to stir the ingredients
with。
We could not eat the bread or the meat； nor drink the 〃slumgullion。〃 And
when I looked at that melancholy vinegar…cruet； I thought of the anecdote
（a very； very old one； even at that day） of the traveler who sat down to
a table which had nothing on it but a mackerel and a pot of mustard。 He
asked the landlord if this was all。 The landlord said：
〃All！ Why； thunder and lightning； I should think there was mackerel
enough there for six。〃
〃But I don't like mackerel。〃
〃Ohthen help yourself to the mustard。〃
In other days I had considered it a good； a very good； anecdote； but
there was a dismal plausibility about it； here； that took all the humor
out of it。
Our breakfast was before us； but our teeth were idle。
I tasted and smelt； and said I would take coffee； I believed。 The
station…boss stopped dead still； and glared at me speechless。 At last；
when he came to； he turned away and said； as one who communes with
himself upon a matter too vast to grasp：
〃Coffee！ Well； if that don't go clean ahead of me； I'm d…d！〃
We could not eat； and there was no conversation among the hostlers and
herdsmenwe all sat at the same board。 At least there was no
conversation further than a single hurried request； now and then； from
one employee to another。 It was always in the same form； and always
gruffly friendly。 Its western freshness and novelty startled me； at
first； and interested me； but it presently grew monotonous； and lost its
charm。 It was：
〃Pass the bread； you son of a skunk！〃 No； I forgetskunk was not the
word； it seems to me it was still stronger than that； I know it was； in
fact； but it is gone from my memory； apparently。 However； it is no
matterprobably it was too strong for print； anyway。 It is the landmark
in my memory which tells me where I first encountered the vigorous new
vernacular of the occidental plains and mountains。
We gave up the breakfast； and paid our dollar apiece and went back to our
mail…bag bed in the coach； and found comfort in our pipes。 Right here we
suffered the first diminution of our princely state。 We left our six
fine horses and took six mules in their place。 But they were wild
Mexican fellows； and a man had to stand at the head of each of them and
hold him fast while the driver gloved and got himself ready。 And when at
last he grasped the reins and gave the word； the men sprung suddenly away
from the mules' heads and the coach shot from the station as if it had
issued from a cannon。 How the frantic animals did scamper！ It was a
fierce and furious gallopand the gait never altered for a moment till
we reeled off ten or twelve miles and swept up to the next collection of
little station…huts and stables。
So we flew along all day。 At 2 P。M。 the belt of timber that fringes the
North Platte and marks its windings through the vast level floor of the
Plains came in sight。 At 4 P。M。 we crossed a branch of the river； and
at 5 P。M。 we crossed the Platte itself； and landed at Fort Kearney；
fifty…six hours out from St。 JoeTHREE HUNDRED MILES！
Now that was stage…coaching on the great overland； ten or twelve years
ago； when perhaps not more than ten men in America； all told； expected to
live to see a railroad follow that route to the Pacific。 But the
railroad is there； now； and it pictures a thousand odd comparisons and
contrasts in my mind to read the following sketch； in the New York Times；
of a recent trip over almost the very ground I have been describing。 I
can scarcely comprehend the new state of things：
〃ACROSS THE CONTINENT。
〃At 4。20 P。M。； Sunday； we rolled out of the station at Omaha； and
started westward on our long jaunt。 A couple of hours out； dinner
was announcedan 〃event〃 to those of us who had yet to experience
what it is to eat in one of Pullman's hotels on wheels； so； stepping
into the car next forward of our sleeping palace； we found ourselves
in the dining…car。 It was a revelation to us； that first dinner on
Sunday。 And though we continued to dine for four days； and had as
many breakfasts and suppers； our whole party never ceased to admire
the perfection of the arrangements； and the marvelous results
achieved。 Upon tables covered with snowy linen； and garnished with
services of solid silver； Ethiop waiters； flitting about in spotless
white； placed as by magic a repast at which Delmonico himself could
have had no occasion to blush； and； indeed； in some respects it
would be hard for that distinguished chef to match our menu； for； in
addition to all that ordinarily makes up a first…chop dinner； had we
not our antelope steak （the gormand who has not experienced this
bah！ what does he know of the feast of fat things？） our delicious
mountain…brook trout； and choice fruits and berries； and （sauce
piquant and unpurchasable！） our sweet…scented； appetite…compelling
air of the prairies？
You may depend upon it； we all did justice to the good things； and
as we washed them down with bumpers of sparkling Krug； whilst we
sped along at the rate of thirty miles an hour； agreed it was the
fastest living we had ever experienced。 （We beat that； however； two
days afterward when we made twenty…seven miles in twenty…seven
minutes； while our Champagne glasses filled to the brim spilled not
a drop！） After dinner we repaired to our drawing…room car； and； as
it was Sabbath eve； intoned some of the grand old hymns〃Praise God
from whom；〃 etc。； 〃Shining Shore；〃 〃Coronation；〃 etc。the voices of
the men singers and of the women singers blending sweetly in the
evening air； while our train； with its great； glaring Polyphemus
eye； lighting up long vistas of prairie； rushed into the night and
the Wild。 Then to bed in luxurious couches； where we slept the
sleep of the just and only awoke the next morning （Monday） at eight
o'clock； to find ourselves at the crossing of the North Platte；
three hundred miles from Omahafifteen hours and forty minutes
out。〃
CHAPTER V。
Another night of alternate tranquillity and turmoil。 But morning came；
by and by。 It was another glad awakening to fresh breezes； vast expanses
of level greensward； bright sunlight； an impressive solitude utterly
without visible human beings or human habitations； and an atmosphere of
such amazing magnifying properties that trees that seemed close at hand
were more than three mile away。 We resumed undress uniform； climbed
a…top of the flying coach； dangled our legs over the side； shouted
occasionally at our frantic mules； merely to see them lay their ears back
and scamper faster； tied our hats on to keep our hair from blowing away；
and leveled an outlook over the world…wide carpet about us for things new
and strange to gaze at。 Even at this day it thrills me through and
through to think of the life； the gladness and the wild sense of freedom
that used to make the blood dance in my veins on those fine overland
mornings！
Along about an hour after breakfast we saw the first prairie…dog
villages； the first antelope； and the first wolf。 If I remember rightly；
this latter was the regular cayote （pronounced ky…o…te） of the farther
deserts。 And if it was； he was not a pretty creature or respectable
either； for I got well acquainted with his race afterward； and can speak
with confidence。 The cayote is a long； slim； sick and sorry…looking
skeleton； with a gray wolf…skin stretched over it； a tolerably bushy tail
that forever sags down with a despairing expression of forsakenness and
misery； a furtive and evil eye； and a long； sharp face； with slightly
lifted lip and exposed teeth。 He has a general slinking expression all
over。 The cayote is a living； breathing allegory of Want。 He is always
hungry。
He is always poor； out of luck and friendless。 The meanest creatures
despise him； and even the fleas would desert him for a velocipede。 He is
so spiritless and cowardly that even while his exposed teeth are
pretending a threat； the rest of his face is apologizing for