ed that night with a party of emigrants, and for the first time
Tom had the luxury of sleeping out of doors; but the appetite he brought
to the breakfast-table with him amply made amends for that. In all the
hunting excursions he had enjoyed for a week or more on his uncle's
plantation he always had a darky along to build a shelter for him, cook
his breakfast for him, and do any other work that happened to be
necessary, and all he had to do was to ride to and from his
hunting-grounds and shoot the turkeys after he got there. The next night
they drew up before a dugout, the first one he had ever seen. The only
thing that pointed out its place of location were a couple of hay-racks,
which had been torn to pieces by mules. There was not a human being in
sight, not even standing in the door to bid them welcome.
"Boys, I am glad my trip is done," said Mr. Kelley, as he threw himself
from his horse, relieving him of his bridle as he did so. "Tom, what do
you think of your new home?"
"Why, there is nobody around here," said Tom, gazing on all sides of
him.
"Oh, they are around here somewhere. It isn't dark yet, and we'll get in
and light a fire for them. They are out somewhere, looking for some lost
cattle. We left two hundred head here when we went to the mountains."
"To the mountains?" repeated Tom.
"Yes. I tell you we want to get away from here when the blizzards fly,
for there isn't a thing to shelter us. I don't expect we shall find more
than fifty head of those cattle, if we do that."
"What do you suppose will become of them?"
"They will be dead, of course. You see, when cattle are loose on the
prairie and a storm comes up, and they can't stand it any longer, they
start and travel in the same way the storm is going; and as the storm
lasts from three to four days, you can readily imagine that they must
get exhausted before they stop. When the hailstones come down as large
as hens' eggs, you can----"
"Haw, haw!" laughed Monroe.
"Well, as large as pigeons' eggs," said Kelley, "and I won't come down
another grain in weight. Why, an army officer went by here two years ago
hunting for his thirty-five mules that had been stampeded by a storm,
and when he found them, there were only four that were able to stand
alone. Oh, you get out, Monroe! You haven't seen any blizzard yet. Now,
let's go in and get some supper."
"But what makes the mules run so? Why don't they go under shelter?"
added Tom, as he picked u
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