The Goodland republic. [volume] (Goodland, Kan.) 1891-1907, 1895-11-22
A DAY ON THE SMOKY

breakfast is now ready in the dining
carl" yelled the cook, as he poked his
round face through the flap Of the tent.
There was no answer from within.
"Last call for breakfastg' he repeated.
And this time there came a grunt from
the depths Of a canves roll, and a head,
surmounted by a wooden cap. protruded
just far enough to allowits owner to see
that dawn had scarcely broken.
"Say, isn't it going to snow?" queried
the newly awakened.
aNot cloud in the sky" answered
the knight of the skillet. "You bet
you'll have tOwork today if tits Thanks
giving"
The newly awakened glided into a
sitting posture. awake up there, SmiI-
en-" he shouted, Singing q shoe at a
similar bundle, myself, on the other
side of the tent. A smothered groan
was the only response. Then the bun
die began to move, a hand protruded
from one end, a couple of spring hooks
we're unfastened, and a head, similar to
the one already described, and followed
by a long, skinny body, appeared on
the scene, like snake issuing from its
hole.
You see, my blankets were sewed up
into kind of bag, just large enough to
receive my body, and at night I crawled
in and fastened up the end, thus keep
ing off the chilly air. When the wealth
or was exceptionally cold, would take
the additional precaution of inserting
a small puppy into the oriflce and kick
ing it down to the bottom, where the
faithful animal would remain until
morning, emitting a cheerful warmth.
Though decked for hours of slumber,
we we're entirely clothed, with the ex-
ception of shoes and coat.
"Beastly cold, Tom," I remarked to
my companion, as l shivered into my
coat and shook on my shoes.
"Worse and more of il" replied Tom,
and, completely dressed, he disappear
ed through the tent door. In a moment
l heard the strokes of a Ratchet. Il
was Tom breaking the ice in the water
bucket. at froze three inches last
night" he remarked, as I issued from
the tent. "Well have a day of it. I'll
bet I freeze to DEATH"
A little dab Of water around the eyes
and a vigorous use of the towel COM
prised the extent of the mornings alb
lutions, and then we hurried into the
cook tent, shivering, and stretched our
fingers over the comfortable warmth of
the gasoline stove. The other men were
already there, seated around the oil
cloth covered table and deVOuring oat-
meal by the bowl, fried eggs, hot bis
cult and pints of delicious coffee from
big granite cups, an example we were
not slow to follow.
But in spite of a good breakfast the
situation was pretty tough. This was
the day that the president of the Unit
ed States had declared should be given
up to thanksgiving, and which is from
one end of the land to the other set
apart for ruinOus feasting, and here
were these poor fellows, Uncle Sans
very servants, preparing to set cut for
a days hard work, driving in the cut
ting wind, with stiffened fingers trying
to depict on paper the contour of the
rolling plains. OF course we were going
to work. Men in the field never take
holidays, especially toward the end of
the surveying season, and the only
Thanksgiving we expected to have was
little better dinner than usual on the
following Sunday.
We we're camped within sight of the
twin Cupolas of Hays city, and we're it
not for the cottonwoOds which line the
course of Big creek, the abandoned
military post of Fort Hays, with It's de-
eaying buildings, would have been
plainly visible.
The sun had just risen when we pre-
pared to get under way. The horses
had been brought up to thewagons and
fed-that is, eli except my conscience
less Chesapeake, who had nOssd all his
feed oct on the frozen ground with an
impatient toss of his head. At this
period of his career, by The way, Ches-
apeake's wild oats had not yet been all
sOwn. HsevideRtly knew twas Thanks
giving day and expected some of the
dslicacies with which my indulgence
had often supplied him. For Chss-
apeske vas the only horse 1 ever heard
Of who liked fried chicken. He would
pick the meat of & dFnmstick as daint-
ily as you or [ Then, I always used to
give him bite Of my pie at lunch time.
He just loved pie-minCe or pumpkin
or lemons it didn't seem to make any
difference what kind it was, Sc it was
pie. Perhaps the most remarkable
thing. though, was olives. He'd eat ali
the pulp of and spit ous the stone
WY, it WIS simply beaasiIuE
Veil, Chesapeake vas hitohed up 10
ny blackboard and tied to Che wagon.
/ loaded in my map-making staff and
put on my wraps quite al orGasl, as I
already had on two pairs Of trousers.
two vests, & knit jacket and a couple Of
coats. Then ] had to don pair Of
heavy felt boots over my shoes, over
them q pair os galosies lined With Eea