The Yale expositor., 1897-05-28
Co Dc

number, to this wilderness station.
We took up our bags and walked out
on the platform. There was no wait
ing-room; nor was there even solitary
hackman to whom We might appeal for
transportation. If hackmen there had
been. we could not have given him Or
ders where to drive us.
The sun was setting. There was no
shadow of a hill or tree. Slowly the
prairie changed from green and brown
to pale yellow. and there were no out
lines of irregularity to mark its outer
circumference.
A few blanketed Indians stood about
watching their supplies" with evident
anxiety. An occasional oath, borrowed
from the vocabulary of the white men
about them. was all the English which
they uttered or knew.
No other building was in sight, save
a one-storied red structure just across
what is now, l suppose, the main
street in the city of Wichita, Kansas.
In the doorway of this red structure,
above which was a sign in black let
tiers. Tavern" a woman suddenly ap-
peared.
She beckoned to us in the twilight,
and seconded her motions by q shrill
cry of Come over herer'
We obeyed, and entered the tavern.
Supper was soon provided at a long
board table. where we ate with the
cowboys and the freight hands. We
had corn bread, white bread, canned
vegetables and fresh pork, roasted and
fried. Black coffee was served in
cracked cups without saucers.
We were government employees, on
our way to Fort Sill. At Wichita the
railroad gave place to the stage line.
Before daylight we were aroused for
breakfast, which was what was left
of supper, made into hash. We paid
our bill to the landlady, who wrapped
our greenbacks in piece of buckskin
and deposited them in a long, home
knit stocking which hung from her
apron band.
The stage-coach was drawn up to the
door by four horses, as gay and pranc-
ing steeds as one could wish to see. The
vehicle itself. stage-coach of the true
overland style, was large and strong,
with three seats beside the drivers.
The canopy, sides and cushioned seats
were of genuine brown leather.
We started off at high speed. The
curly spring buffalo-grass seemed as
soft as wool. The ground was I'M
hxy fho
prairie-dogs, whose towns made almost
a continuous city on each side of the
trail for many miles. The saucy in
habitants were out early, probably In
the interests OF farming, standing
straight up and talking to one another,
darting out of sight down their door
ways, and peeping out again as sud-
denly.
The morning sre appeared. without
shadows, as he had set the night before.
There we're now and then little farms
planted with small peach-trees.
From the doors of dugouts, or tiny
frame houses, half-dressed children
peeped curiously forth. On we sped
through creek and river, up slippery
banks and on over the plains.
IF this is staging" we said. then
good-by to steam cars for the prairie. i"
But our pleasant way, like many
another, was subject to change. At the
end of fifteen miles we halted for re-
lay. Our horses were foaming. and
must be replaced by fresh ones. We
alighted at small stage-line station.
and were told to take out our lug
gage"
In six minutes we were ready to start
again. The four horses and leather
covered vehicle, which had dashed out
OF Wichita with its pledge OF comfort
and rapidity, gave place to a dirty,
canvas-topped, two-mule coach without
cushions.
The seats were high, and without
backs save as we leaned cornerwise
against the slender supports which
held up the canopy.
Our new steeds were slow and stub