ng wheels of windmills
could be seen everywhere at their work.

Here and there at the trodden, water holes of the broken creeks there
lay carcasses of perished cattle, the skin dried and drawn tight over
the bones; but on the hillsides near by grazed living cattle, fatter
and more content to feed than the wild creatures that yesterday clacked
and crowded up the Trail. Now, it is known of all men that cattle have
wide horns, broad as the span of a man's arms; yet there were men here
who said they had seen cattle whose horns were no longer than those of
the buffalo, and later this thing was proved to be true.

Mother Daly knew, as all persons in the past knew, that by right the
face of the plains was of one colour, unbroken; gray-brown in summer,
white in winter, green in the spring. Yet now, as though giants would
play here some game of draughts, there came a change upon the country,
so that in squares it was gray, in squares green. This thing had never
been before.

In the town of Ellisville the great heap of buffalo bones was gone from
the side of the railroad track. There were many wagons now, but none
brought in bones to pile up by the railway; for even the bones of the
buffalo were now gone forever.

Mother Daly looked out upon the Cottage corral one day, and saw it
sound and strong. Again she looked, and the bars were gone. Yet
another day she looked, and there was no corral! Along the street, at
the edge of the sidewalks of boards, there stood a long line of
hitching rails. Back of these board sidewalks were merchants who lived
in houses with green blinds, and they pronounced that word "korrawl!"

The livery barn of Samuel Poston grew a story in stature, and there was
such a thing as hay--hay not imported in wired bales. In the little
city there were three buildings with bells above them. There was a
courthouse of many rooms; for Ellisville had stolen the county records
from Strong City, and had held them through Armageddon. There were
large chutes now at the railway, not for cattle, but for coal. Strange
things appeared. There was a wide, low, round, red house, full of car
tracks, and smoke, and hammer blows, and dirt, and confusion; and from
these shops came and went men who did an unheard-of thing. They worked
eight hours a day, no more, no less! Now, in the time of Man, men
worked twenty-four hours a day, or not at all; and they did no man's
bidding.

The streets of Ellisville were many.