ft activity and the very joy of
being. For long months I had worked upon a ranch in the Southern
Panhandle, and now felt healthy energies stirring within me. In Western
America the very blood of life is unrest; to remain is difficult; the
difficulties of motion are its joys, though hardship and privation be
the migrant's life for ever. For me the ever-present prairie grew a
little dull; for sheep were sheep always, and there were mountains afar
off and strange, bright rivers and the dark, odorous forests of the
north. Though my boss was of the order that remains and accumulates
wealth he understood when I declared that I must go or die. On the third
day hereafter he and an old confederate "Colonel" (discharged as "Full
Private" doubtless) and I and a Mexican sheep-herder moved southward
towards the railroad. We travelled on horseback and in a two-mule buggy,
and with the movement discontent dropped away from me and all was well
with the world, even though I knew not what weeks or even days should
bring me. That night we camped thirty miles from the ranch and thirty
from the little town we called a city, which had grown up in the
sand-dunes by the banks of the Texan Colorado. We lighted our scanty
fire at sundown. It was a typical camp of the later days upon the high
prairie, and a not untypical set of men. Our talk was of horses and
steers and sheep and of Virginia, whence our grizzled colonel came, and
the Mexican sat and smoked and said nothing, save with his beady,
brilliant eyes, as he made his yellow papers into flat _cigaritas_. And
at nine o'clock silence and sleep fell upon us while the mules and
horses champed their dry fare beside the buggy. For me the sleep of the
just was my due, for I had worked hard that day. Yet I woke suddenly
before the dawn, and woke all at once, refreshed and alive. It was still
dark and yet I knew it was not properly night, for the time sense in me,
measured healthily by refreshment, told me of the passage of time, and I
arose from my blankets. As I walked out among the shadows softly my
companions made no motion, and the horses whinnied coaxingly, as though
I were still the guardian of their provender. The wind was cool, even
cold, as it blew from the north, and on every side the vast prairie
stretched like a mysterious dark green sea, with here and there a shadow
heaving itself out of the infinite level. I walked lightly with a happy
sense of detachment and well-being, almost with th