Chapter I: Part 1

BILLY WHISKERS JR.

_AKRON, OHIO._
_THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO._
_NEW YORK._ _CHICAGO._

COPYRIGHT, 1904
BY
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY.

THIS BOOK
IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED
TO
MY LITTLE GODSON,
JACK HANSON MICHENER.

_CONTENTS_

NIGHT GROWS TIRED OF THE FARM 7

WESTWARD HO! 14

THE COLLISION 21

BILLY JR. GETS A TASTE OF THE WEST 30

BILLY JR. AS LEADER OF THE SHEEP 37

A FIGHT WITH WOLVES 43

BILLY LEARNS SOMETHING ABOUT COWBOYS AND INDIANS 50

BILLY JR. AND THE FIREMEN 62

BILLY, THE CHRISTMAS TREE, AND THE IRISHWOMAN 71

BILLY JR. HAS SOME NEW EXPERIENCES 79

BILLY JR. AND STUBBY 89

SMALL ADVENTURES 96

THE MIDNIGHT FIRE 103

THE BULL-FIGHT 110

THE ESCAPE 115

THE VOLCANO 123

AN UNEXPECTED TRIP 134

_Illustrations_

PAGE

HE RUSHED UPON THE TREACHEROUS INDIAN _Frontispiece_

THERE WAS A TERRIFIC EXPLOSION AND THEY FELT THEMSELVES
BEING HURLED THROUGH SPACE 20

HE FELT HIMSELF PINIONED ON A PAIR OF LONG SHARP HORNS 40

THE MAN MADE A GRAB FOR THE GREASED POLE AND DOWN HE WENT 60

BILLY GAVE ONE LEAP WHICH CARRIED HIM AHEAD OF THE DOG 80

IN THE VERY CENTER STOOD LITTLE DUKE 100

_Night Grows Tired of the Farm._

Night had not been home more than three weeks when he commenced to get restless and tired of the quiet life on the farm. It was such a change from the adventurous, exciting life he had been leading that he did not know what to do with himself. This going to bed with the chickens and getting up with the sun, with nothing to do all day long but graze in the pasture or sleep in the shade, did not suit him; so he whispered to Day one day:

“This life is driving me mad. I am going away the first chance I get. I have it all planned. Come over here by the stream and I will tell you all about it.”

“Oh, Night, don’t go away and leave us! It will be so lonely without you. Why! I think it is perfectly lovely here; it is so clean and quiet, and then we know we are not going to be hurt or starved one day and petted and stuffed the next, like we were when traveling.”

“I know, dear, but you are a girl and like the quiet, while I am a boy and like adventures. Why! I like to get into scrapes just for the fun of getting out of them. Besides, there is another reason why you like it here. You need not think I have not noticed how that handsome goat with the long hair and curved horns almost as long as my own, makes sheep’s eyes at you, for I have. And so, Miss Day, you are in love. I see you are blushing, for the inside of your ear is as red as blood, and that is a sure sign a goat is in love. Well, how do you like it? It is nicer than you thought when you took me away from Spotty, isn’t it?”

“Oh, Night! do forgive me. I never would have done it if I had thought you felt as I do now. But I did not know then; and I wanted you all to myself. I know I was selfish and jealous, but do forgive me, won’t you?”

“Yes, dear little sister, I will forgive you because I did not care so very much for Spotty. If I had, you could not have kept me from her. I would have found my way back to Madeira, if I had spent the rest of my life looking for it. But you see, don’t you? that now you will be happy and contented; father and mother don’t need me now that they have you, so I am going out to see some more of the world and try to find another goat as nice as you are to marry. If I do, I will bring her back here and we will always live happily forever afterward, as they say in the story books.”

“But when and where are you going, Night? Do tell me. And you will surely wait until I am married, won’t you?”

“I am going West. I have heard all about the wonderful prairies, plains, and mountains out there, where there are hundreds of thousands of sheep, and how each flock has a large goat for a leader. Now it is my ambition to be one of those leaders.”

“How in the world will you get there? It is thousands upon thousands of miles from here, and you can’t walk all the way.”

“No, my dear, I know I can’t walk it, but I can walk part of the way and steal rides occasionally, like the tramps do. I will get there somehow, for I never failed to do anything which I made up my mind to do if I stuck to it long enough. I can just see those immense mountains lying so still and solemn, cut by innumerable bridle paths and cañons, where the sheep seek shelter from the driving storms, protected from the wolves that sneak down to devour them by their big billy-goat leader. He gives the signal of danger and with the shepherd drives off the hungry wolves.”

“For mercy sakes! don’t talk of going where there are wolves, for they will tear you to pieces and I shan’t close my eyes until you get back, I shall be so worried,” said Day.

“Don’t fear for me, sister mine. No old wolf will get the better of me while I have two such long, sharp horns on my head as I now have. Why, a wolf is nothing more than a wild dog, and you know how I treat ugly, cross dogs.”

“I don’t believe father will let you go,” said Day as a last resort to discourage his going.

“Oh, yes, he will. He was young once and liked adventures as well as I do now; and mother won’t mind after a few days, because she has you.”

“Won’t mind. Well, I guess she will. Forty me’s can’t take the place of you in _her_ mind; she is so proud of your strength and beauty. You needn’t get conceited, but you know you are very handsome with your silky black coat and long beard, almost as long as papa’s. Every young nanny in the pasture has been making eyes at you since you came back. Why can’t you fall in love with my chum, Belle? I am sure she is pretty enough for any goat to fall in love with. And then you could live here and not go away and leave us all again. I feel it in my bones if you go you will never come back again. Do try to live here, Night, won’t you?”

“I would do anything for you, Day, that I could, but I couldn’t and wouldn’t fall in love with that long-nosed, sheepish-looking Belle with washed-out blue eyes, even to please you.”

“Oh, Night, she hasn’t washed-out eyes and she is considered a beauty.”

“Well, I don’t admire your taste. Whoever wants her can have her, for all of me. Here comes mother and we must stop talking, for I don’t want her to know I am going away until my plans are complete.”

Night had grown so much like Billy since he had been away that he was no longer called Night but “Billy Whiskers Jr.”

Billy Jr. had taken to spending all his time by the fence that ran along the roadside, and he was getting thin from watching so much and eating so little. When his mother noticed this, she said:

“My dear son, why do you spend so much of your time down by the road where the grass is dusty and scarce instead of here by the stream where it is clean and fresh?”

“Oh, I don’t mind the dust,” he answered. “I stay there so that I can talk to the horses, cows, and sheep that pass by.”

“But you are getting thin, and your coat is dirty and shabby from want of care. And you act as if there was something on your mind. Can’t you tell your mother what it is that is worrying you?”

At this Billy Jr. broke down and told her all his plans; how he was longing to get away and go West; but he could find no one who could tell him how to get there. All the animals that passed along had been born and raised in the East and knew no more of the West than he did. Nannie answered:

“You are just like your father was at your age. I have been afraid for a long while that you were dissatisfied here; and though it will nearly break my heart to have you go, still I will not forbid your doing so.”

So Billy Jr. kept up his watch by the fence and at last was rewarded by hearing this news: A loose colt from one of the neighbors told him that a gentleman from away out West was visiting at their place and that he had brought his horse with him. This horse told them all about the big West every evening when they were all shut in their stalls; and he, for his part, was crazy to go.

“That is just what I am crazy to hear about for I want to go there myself. Can’t you kick the stable door down to-night so I can get in and hear what he says?” said Billy Jr.

“Certainly I can, for my stall is the outside one, and I will do it when I hear you bah outside.”

“Thank you very much,” said Billy Jr. “I will be there as soon as the hired man has left the barn, so he won’t see me and drive me back.”

And for the first time in many days Billy Jr. ate a good dinner and rolled and rolled in the clean sand to shine up his much neglected coat, which, when he had finished, shone again like satin. As evening drew on he was all impatience for it to get pitchy dark and for every one to go to bed, so he could be off. At last he thought it was dark enough for him to try it, especially as his coat was so black it was not easily detected.

He jumped the fence where he and Day had jumped it when they had returned from their travels and, turning down the road, he was soon on his way to the neighbor’s to hear what the horse had to say about the West.

_Westward Ho!_

Billy Jr. soon found himself at the neighbor’s, bleating for the colt to kick down the door. This was done with two kicks and Billy Jr. walked in and was introduced to the horse from the West.

“I am glad to make your acquaintance,” said the horse. “I hear you are thinking of going West and would like to know something about it and how to get there. I also heard that you thought of walking and trusting to stealing rides on the cars if you could not get there in any other way. Now I hate to discourage you but, strong and brave as you are, you could not do it. You might get as far as the Great Plains, but these you could never cross. You would die of hunger and thirst if not with lonesomeness long before you had got a quarter of the way. Imagine yourself on a vast prairie without a hill or a tree in sight; the ground as level as if rolled out with a rolling-pin and covered with sage brush and short buffalo grass, coarse as straw and dry as chips; not a living thing in sight but a jack-rabbit or two and a buzzard flying overhead waiting for your dead body. This buzzard has been following you for he knows from experience that it won’t be many days before you are stark and cold in death, either from hunger or thirst. Or, if the worst should come to the worst, you might be torn to pieces by a pack of prairie wolves as hungry as yourself.

“Sometimes cattle stray from the flock and try to cross the plains alone and get as far as Dead Lake--a lake of alkali water that lies in the desert. This water is as clear as crystal and looks so tempting to the poor thirsty cattle that they often drink it, though all around its margin are the bleached bones of other cattle that have drunk of its poisoned waters and died. One can’t blame them for drinking, for it looks so cool and refreshing to them as it lies there clear and tempting, rippled by the breezes that blow over it. Oh, no! Mr. Billy, better wait and content yourself here or get shipped through in a car as I was.”

All this gave Billy Jr. some things to think about and he went home feeling blue and depressed and almost ready to give up his cherished plans. But next morning he awoke with the same burning desire to go, and he made up his mind that faint heart never got anywhere nor did anything, and he decided he would start anyway and follow the sun in its direct course west day after day and see where it would bring him. If it did not lead him where he wanted to go, it would at least give him adventures, hardships, and pleasures, and they in themselves were worth going after.

About 11 o’clock in the morning, while he was telling Day that his mind was made up to start the next day at sunrise, he looked up and saw the horse from the West turn into their lane with a fine-looking gentleman on his back. He ran over to the fence to see if he could not get a word or two with the horse. When pretty near to him, the gentleman stopped his horse and Billy Jr. heard him say:

“My soul! but that is a fine-looking goat. I would give a hundred dollars to have him West to lead my flocks.”

“Bah, bah,” bleated Billy Jr., which meant, “You can have me for ten cents.” As the gentleman rode on, Billy Jr. said to himself, “Oh, why can’t people understand us as we can them? for then I could plead with him to take me West!” And he walked off and butted an inoffensive goat in his anger and tried to pick a quarrel with him. But the goat knew Billy Jr.’s reputation too well and refused to fight.

Right after dinner Billy Jr. saw Mr. Windlass and the gentleman who had ridden into the lane that morning coming into the pasture. He did not go to meet them because he felt cross and disagreeable, so he stood staring at them, chewing grass like an old man chews tobacco. However, they came straight up to where he stood, and he heard Mr. Windlass tell the gentleman how he and the white goat over there (pointing to Day) had come to him one morning and he had never been able to learn to whom they belonged or where they came from, though he had advertised in all the papers.

“I had a black and a white kid a couple of years ago, but it is not likely they could be the same ones grown up and come back.”

“I don’t know,” answered the gentleman, “goats are queer creatures. Mr. Windlass, what will you take for him? I have been looking for a big jet-black billy-goat to lead my flocks for a long time. The wolves are getting pretty bad out West on the range and a goat makes a good leader. I want a black one, as his color would distinguish him from the white sheep immediately. Besides, your goat has other points in his favor; he is strong, large, a good fighter you say, and has long, sharp-pointed horns. Name your price and I will take him and have him shipped West in the same car with my horse when I go. I will charter a car and put feed in one end of it and have the other partitioned off into two stalls into which I will put the goat and horse.”

Billy Jr. failed to hear what Mr. Windlass asked for him, but he heard the gentleman say:

“It is a bargain and I will send my man for him to-night, for I expect to leave very early in the morning for Boston to catch the westbound train.”

“Hurrah! Hurrah! Papa Billy and Mamma Nanny, come here and hear what glorious news I have for you. I am going West to-morrow!”

Nanny nearly fainted when she heard the news, it was so sudden, and even staunch old Billy Whiskers shed a tear when he thought of his gallant young son leaving them, perhaps forever. While for Day, she just rolled over on the ground and cried, but was soon comforted by a handsome young goat only a few months older than herself.

True to his word, Mr. Wilder, the Western gentleman, sent his man for Billy Jr. just before dark; and when the goats saw him come through the gate preparatory to leading Billy Jr. off, they all gathered round to say a last farewell, and old Billy, Nanny, and Day all followed him to the gate and watched him with streaming eyes through the palings until he was out of sight. The man led Billy Jr. to the depot, and there he was put into a freight-car with the Westerner’s pet horse, Star.

“Hello, Mr. Billy Jr.! Glad I am to have you as a companion. You did not expect to have such good luck as this when last I saw you. You will find this beats walking all to pieces.”

“It certainly does,” answered Billy Jr. “This piece of luck is beyond my greatest expectations.”

Just then the train gave a jerk forward and stopped suddenly, which sent Billy Jr. off his feet, it was so unexpected, and bumped Star’s nose against the end of the car.

“Well, I never!” said Billy Jr. “This is worse than the rocking of a vessel for knocking one around.”

“Yes, and the worst of it is you can never tell when it is coming. If one only could, he might brace himself for it and not get hurt,” said Star. “I hear you have traveled a good deal by water and that you were once shipwrecked,” said he. “Won’t you tell me something of your adventures?”

“Some day I will, but now I want to ask you questions about the West.”

After a half-hour’s backing, switching, and jerking, the train at last moved out of the yards and started on its way for the West, with a bumpity, bump, bump and a clankity, clank, clank. Once out of the city, it wound itself in and out among the hills and across country like a huge, brown snake.

In this way they traveled for a couple of days. They enjoyed the scenery of the Horse Shoe Bend in the Allegheny Mountains, which they crossed; and they both speculated on what would become of them if the train rolled from the track in rounding the curve and landed them at the foot of the mountain thousands of feet below. Through the slats of the car that had been left open they could see the country through which they passed, and they stood and looked until cinders got in their eyes and they grew too tired to stand still.

_The Collision._

Everything went well until about midnight of the fourth day out, when Billy Jr. and his companion were awakened by a terrific crash, a bumpity-bump-bump, and the door of the car broke from its hinges and fell to the ground. At the same time there was a noise as if an avalanche of snow were scraping and rattling on the top of the car.

“What do you suppose has happened?” said Billy Jr.

“I think either we have run into some other train or it has run into us,” answered Star.

And the latter is what it proved to be. The freight was behind time and an excursion train had tried to make the next station before the freight started out. The consequence was that the excursion train, running at a high rate of speed, did not notice the freight, which was behind a deep bend in the road, until it was too late, and crashed into it. Both engines were thrown off the track and two or three cars of the excursion train were smashed to splinters, while one was suspended in mid-air over a deep precipice of the mountain and the only thing that kept it from going over was the coupling between it and the other car.

For a second after the crash everything was still; then the cries of women and children were heard above the noise of escaping steam and crackling wood, as fire spread from one car to another and added its horror to the already disastrous wreck.

“Billy Jr., I smell smoke,” said Star. “You are not tied while I am. Can’t you jump out and see where it comes from; for if the train is on fire, what will become of me? I am tied up so tight I can’t possibly get loose.”

“Try to pull back and break your strap,” said Billy Jr.

Star tried, but it would not break.

“I’ll tell you how; rub your head against the side of the car and try to slip your bridle over your ears,” suggested Billy.

Star did this and the bridle dropped off. But he was no better off than before, for he found himself boarded in his stall away from the open door.

“I’ll tell you how you can fix that,” said Billy Jr. “You kick with all your might and throw your body against the boards and I am sure they will give way, for they are nailed on loosely from this side. While you do that, I will jump out and see what is the matter and if there is any danger of the fire reaching our car.”

So while Star threw his weight against the boards and kicked for dear life, Billy ran forward to see how bad the wreck was.

He came upon a sight weird and appalling to the last degree. The night was inky black, while the flames, as they licked up car after car, lit up the landscape with a red glare like some scene at the theatre; while for a background stood the tall, black mountains silent and still, like sentinels around a bivouac fire. Running hither and thither were men and women trying to save their companions from the burning train, and many acts of heroism were performed, while lives were bravely risked to save friend or stranger wedged in between the broken seats of the smoking mass.

Billy waited only to take one look and then he ran back to tell Star that he must get out as soon as possible, as the flames were spreading fast in his direction.

While Star was kicking at his partition with vehemence and Billy was trying to help butt him loose, there was a terrific explosion and they felt themselves being hurled through space. The car ahead of them had contained some gasoline and when the fire reached it, it had exploded, blowing up the car and the one next to it.

But, strange as it may seem, neither Star nor Billy Jr. were hurt seriously. Star got a sprained shoulder and Billy a skinned leg, that was all.

The wreck delayed them thirty-six hours, and while they were waiting for the wrecking train to come to their assistance, clear the track, and put the engines on again, Billy Jr. and Star had a fine time roaming around the mountains and rummaging among the debris; or rather, Billy Jr. did while Star stood off and watched.

Billy Jr. would nose around among all the broken boxes, packages, trunks, etc., until he smelt some one’s luncheon; then he would eat it up, pasteboard box and all, if he could not get the lid off. At last he came to the remains of the dining-car, and amongst the wreckage he found some fine apples and pears. He called to his friend, but Star felt too timid to come at first until Billy persisted, but after awhile he picked his way to where the apples were, half covered by the broken pieces of the car.

While feasting on these the horse felt a hand laid on his mane, and on looking around to see who it was he heard Pete, the man who had been sent to take care of them, say:

“By all that is merciful, how did you and Billy escape from being blowed to smithereens? I thought ye’s were both flying around the dog star by now. But it’s mighty glad I am to find ye’s both alive, for me master’s very fond of ye’s both and I wouldn’t ’a’ had anything happen to ye’s for worlds while ye’s was in my care.”

Pete led Star off and, finding a piece of rope, tied him to a tree to wait until another train was sent to carry them on, while he sat down and commenced to smoke, too lazy to help clear away the wreckage. He let Billy roam at will, for he knew he would not go far from the horse, they were such good friends.

Presently they heard the purring and blowing of a train coming up the grade to pick them up and carry them along on their journey. When Pete heard it he said:

“It’s mighty glad I am to hear that, for I am as hungry as a bear, not being able to ate tin cans and raw pertaters like you, Mr. Billy Jr., and grass and herbs like you, Mr. Star.”

The train presently reached them, and by the help of many hands, everything was soon packed on board and they were off for the West once more.

They did not have any more mishaps and reached Chicago one raw, windy morning. As their train pulled into the yard, where it was to lie until their car was switched on to the Santa Fe train that was to carry Billy Jr. to the far West, he remarked:

“So this dirty, flat-looking city is Chicago, the far-famed first World’s Fair city! Well, I don’t think much of it from what I have seen.”

“Oh, but you shouldn’t judge any city by what you see of it from a train, for remember, the tracks always run through the worst parts of the city. You should see this city’s boulevards and parks. They would make you change your mind, for they are among the finest in the world. I saw them on my way East, for Mr. Wilder stopped here a week and during that time kept me at a livery stable and every day he took a horseback ride. In that way I saw all of the city, its handsome residences, business districts, parks, and boulevards; and I can tell you there are none finer, not even in your beloved Boston.”

“Don’t you think I could manage to run away and see it all?” asked Billy.

“Not unless you wish to give up your trip West, for if you once left this car you could never find your way back among all those hundreds of others in the yard here that look just like it.”

“I could easily find my way back if that was all,” said Billy Jr., “but the thing I am afraid of is that they might start West and leave me, or switch you off to another yard where I could not find you.”

Their conversation was interrupted here by a man bringing them something to eat and a bucket of water.

“I do not see why they did not run this car over to the Stock Yards so these animals could have been taken out and fed and watered and their car cleaned in proper shape,” Billy Jr. heard a red-headed man say, as he pushed back the sliding door that shut them in. “For heaven’s sake! I thought it was two horses we had been sent to look after and not a car of goats,” as Billy Jr. appeared at the door.

“You can have the job,” said a jolly-looking, fat man. “I throw up my share right here. I had all I wanted to do with goats when I was a boy.”

“Why, what did they ever do to you that you should take such a dislike to them?” said the red-headed man.

“Well, I’ll tell you. The first thing they did to me when I was a little shaver was to chew my hair off.”

“Chew your hair off! How in the world did they get a chance to do that?”

“It happened in this way,” said the fat man, “I went to sleep on a bank by the side of the road one hot day, and when I woke up my hair was all chewed off, and the old Billy had commenced on one leg of my trousers. I stoned him good for this, but he got even a week after when he met me coming home from one of the neighbors with a basket of eggs in one hand and a pat of butter in the other. The first thing I knew I was standing on my head in the pat of butter and the eggs were all broken beside me with the basket turned upside-down. From that day on that goat and I were enemies. He would do me a mean trick and I would pay him back the first chance I got. But somehow or other he always seemed to get the best of me. And this goat is as much like him as two peas; and how do I know but what it is the same goat, though that was years ago? Goats may live to be a hundred for all I know, and I don’t care to take my chances; so I will attend to the horse and you look after the goat.”

As these words left his mouth Billy Jr. made a plunge for him and, landing in the yard clear over his head, ran off and disappeared behind some freight cars.

“Now, what did I tell you! He has got us in trouble right off, for most likely he will never come back and we will have to pay for him. Drat goats, I say! and double drat this one in particular!”

_Billy Jr. Gets a Taste of the West._

Just outside the car yard fence was a Chinese laundry, and ever since Billy’s car had been backed into the yard he had been watching the Chinamen at work at the open door. So now that he was loose he determined to get out of the yard and see what it was the Chinamen were sticking their cheeks out with and blowing on the clothes.

When he appeared at the door it startled one of the Chinamen so that he let all the water that was in his mouth and which he had intended to sprinkle the clothes with, fly in Billy’s face. Now Billy thought the Chinaman had spat in his face on purpose, and if there is one thing more than another that will make a goat fighting mad, it is to spit or even pretend to spit at him.

With a plunge forward he butted the Chinaman through a curtained partition that separated the front room from the back, knocking another Chinaman that was bending over a washtub into the tub headforemost and upsetting tub, Chinamen, and all. Then he quietly walked into the back yard where some nicely starched shirts were hanging out to dry. These he chewed until the two Chinamen tried to drive him out of the yard by turning the hose on him. They had only given him one squirt when he went for them and butted one into a limp heap in one corner of the room, while the other took to his heels down the street, as if the old man from the sulphur regions were after him.

On coming out of the laundry Billy Jr. heard Star whinnying for him in a distressed, excited voice, and he bleated back, “I am coming, Star. What’s the matter?”

Star answered back, “Hurry up or you will be left behind; they are going to switch our car on to the Santa Fe train.”

Billy knew he would not have time to go around the way he had come, so he crawled through a place in the fence where a couple of boards were off, and gained his car just as it began to back out of the yard.

“Well, old fellow, where have you been? You look all wet, and you have nearly given me nervous prostration by your absence. I have neighed and neighed for you until my throat is sore.”

“I never heard you,” said Billy Jr., “for I was inside the laundry seeing to a little washing,” and Billy Jr. commenced to laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Star.

“At the funny frightened faces those pig-tailed Chinamen made at me when they saw me coming for them. I wonder if the Chinaman I frightened up the street has stopped running yet,” said Billy Jr.

“Tell me so I can laugh, too,” said Star, “for I know you have been in mischief.”

While Billy was telling of his adventure the train started on its way, westward ho.

The trip from Chicago to Kansas City was made without any excitement; and after they had left Kansas City behind and were well on their way across the state, Billy, who was looking out of his peephole, said:

“Well, I am glad I took your advice and did not try to walk or steal rides to the West. I would have been a tired, foot-sore goat by this time, if I had ever gotten as far as here, which I doubt. The map of the United States I chewed up never gave me any idea of the distance between the eastern states and the western. Look quickly, Star, at that woman with a baby in her arm, coming out of that hole in the ground. What on earth is she doing there? They don’t bury people alive out here, do they?”

Star laughed and said, “No, she lives there. That is what they call a ‘dugout,’ and lots of people in Kansas live in them.”

“Well, when I have to live in a hole in the ground I hope I shall turn into a groundhog and be done with it.”

“Mercy!” exclaimed Billy later, “isn’t it getting hot and oppressive in here!”

“Yes, and it bodes no good for us, for I am afraid it is the calm before the storm and that we are going to have a regular old-fashioned Kansas blizzard or cyclone. Do you see that black cloud rolling toward us from the northeast? Well, I think that is a Northeaster, as they call them, bringing a sand storm with it.”

“Ugh! how cold it has grown all of a sudden. I feel chilled to the bone, after that hot, stuffy air we have been having. And see how it is raining off there.”

“Off there _now_, but in less than a minute it will be here; only that is not rain but fine sand that will sting us like needles, blind us, choke us, and nearly suffocate us before it blows over as suddenly as it came. I know what they are like, for we passed through one on our way East.”

Before Star had stopped talking the first particles of sand were flying and had already shut one of Billy’s eyes and filled his mouth with grit.

“Oh, this is terrible! Why don’t some one come and shut our windows so the nasty sand can’t sift in? I would not live in Kansas if they gave me the whole state,” said Billy Jr., “if this is the kind of storms they have here.”

Two days later they found themselves in New Mexico in sight of the main range of the Rocky Mountains, and Star said that by three o’clock they would be at Las Vegas, where their journey was to end. “And I shan’t be sorry, for my legs ache from standing on them so many days without lying down.”

They were met at Las Vegas by Mr. Wilder, who had been very much worried about them since he heard of the wreck they had been in. But his fears were laid at rest when he saw them, for both had come through in fine shape and had stood the trip splendidly.

The next morning Billy was tied to a wagon filled with groceries and provisions for Mr. Wilder’s ranch, whither they were bound, while Star with his master on his back galloped ahead or followed behind as he saw fit. Once when Star was walking beside him Billy said:

“Star, do you know I feel lonesome for the first time in my life. When I look at those great solemn mountains, whose tops are always covered with snow, I feel about as big as a fly and as if they were trying to teach me a lesson in patience, and dear knows I need it badly enough. How do they make you feel when you look at them?”

“I love them,” said Star, “and the nearer I get to them and the more I look at them the nearer God seems to get. People think horses, dogs and other animals don’t know about God, but I guess we feel His presence more than they do sometimes, though we can’t talk about it.”

“How much further is it?” asked Billy Jr. “I hate walking behind a wagon, taking all the dust from the horses’ heels. And this dust seems to smart so when it gets in one’s eyes.”

“Yes, I know it does; that is because there is so much alkali in the ground about here. Don’t you remember my telling you about Dead Lake and the bones of animals you would see bleaching on its margin had you tried to walk across the desert? Well, this is not a desert, but we have to pass a small lake of alkali water, and, small as it is, you can see the bones of animals lying beside it. There is very little water out here, no large rivers, and only a few springs or little mountain streams.”

“Quick! look off there toward the foot-hills; do you see that grey dog running with a long loping trot?” continued Star.

“Yes, what of it?” said Billy Jr.

“Why, that is not a dog but a coyote or prairie wolf.”

“It is? I wish I had taken a better look at him,” answered Billy Jr.

Presently Star called out, “Cheer up, Billy. We are almost there, for I can see the smoke now rising from the ranchhouse in the distance.”

_Billy Jr. as Leader of the Sheep._

Early the next morning a small flock of sheep was driven from the corral, headed by their leader, an old mountain goat, who was always selected to take out the new flocks for the first two or three times and to break in the new leaders. And now it was Billy Jr.’s turn to be broken in and taught how to lead the sheep and give warning of any danger.

He found old Long Hair (so named from his exceedingly long hair) a very agreeable, patient goat and willing to answer all the new goat’s questions, which were not a few, as he wanted to know all about the country and the ways of Western sheep. Billy knew he must keep up a certain dignity or the sheep would never look up to him or have any confidence in him. Soon he was to get their confidence and a name for bravery in a way he least expected.

Old Long Hair had led them from the corral across the mesa and down into a valley where a little water was to be found in the bottom of an “aroya,” or deep ditch, which an Easterner would call a gully. It is made by the water washing down the sides of the mountains and plowing its way through the soft soil. When the flock got to the edge of this aroya, Billy noticed that a large ram with immense double twisted horns walked out of the flock toward him. But as he stood looking down into the muddy yellow water thinking to himself that it would not be fit to drink if he took the trouble to climb down after it, he forgot all about the ram, until he heard a voice at his side say:

“Well, young fellow, what do you mean by coming along with this flock without asking my permission? I suppose you know that I am master of this herd and I don’t need the assistance of any dandyfied goat like you. When I do, I will select one of my own choosing and not a stranger and tenderfoot from the East.”

Billy Jr. laughed in his face and said:

“Don’t provoke me, old fellow, or I may give you a butt that will land you in that muddy water.”

“What! You dare to speak to me like that, you--you impertinent black-haired goat! If you dare to say another word I will hook you with my strong horns.”

“And what do you suppose I would be doing while you were doing that?” asked Billy. “What do you suppose I would be doing with my own long horns about that time?”

“Look here, young impertinence, I don’t intend to stand here and talk to you all morning, so be off with you.”

“Neither shall I waste any more time over you, Mr. Puffed-up, so take that, and that!” said Billy, as he gave the ram two sharp hooks in his side and sent him rolling to the bottom of the aroya.

When he looked up he found that all the sheep had gathered around to see how the bully of the herd was going to come out with the slick black stranger. Billy made a bow to them and said:

“I would not explain to Mr. Puffer who I am, but I don’t mind telling you all that I am the goat selected by your master to lead this flock, and he brought me all the way from Boston to do it. He picked me out because he thought I was a good fighter and could take care of myself as well as protect you from the wolves, which he said were bad in these parts. Now if any one of you thinks I can’t take care of myself and would not make a good leader, I would like him to walk out of the flock and say so, and we can fight it out while the rest of you look on and see fair play.”

No sheep or goat walked out, and from that day until he left he was the most beloved and admired of all the leaders the flock had ever had.

The next day Billy, as the acknowledged leader, determined when he started out not to stop for water at that dirty aroya, but to push on to the foot-hills and see if he could not find a nice, cool spring, or at least some water that was not as thick with yellow mud as that they had drunk the day before.

He let the sheep graze as they went, but he always managed to keep ahead of them a few steps and in this way they unconsciously hurried forward and by noon found themselves climbing the steep sides of the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains, which in comparison with the main-ranges seem like little hills.

Billy left them to graze there while he climbed to the top so he could get a view of the surrounding country and see what was in the opposite valley. The sight that met his eyes was beyond description--in the distance lay the main range of the Rocky Mountains, deep blue in color with a white cap of snow on their heads; and shading down in all the intermediate colors between deep purple, blue and pale gray were parallel ranges of mountains. Directly beneath him a silvery stream wound its way through a fertile valley, and nestled on its banks was a small settlement of adobe houses where lived the Mexicans that farmed the land.

He had only to turn around and at his back lay an entirely different scene. This one was grand in its lonesomeness, with its plains and mesas destitute of trees or life. Out across the barren prairie on a tableland equally as barren lay Fort Union, now deserted, from which the soldiers used to ride to fight the Indians. Whichever way the eye roamed one saw height, space, grandeur which awed into stillness and made one think of God. It was a silent sermon felt, not spoken.

Suddenly Billy was rudely awakened from his reverie. There, skulking stealthily along behind some rocks and bushes, he detected a moving object that seemed to come creeping, creeping nearer and nearer to his sheep. He looked again more intently, and yes, sure enough, it was a wolf he saw making for the flock. In a second the responsibility of his position, which he had forgotten for a time, rushed upon him, and with bound after bound he started down the mountain side. Only a moment he halted to see if the wolf were still coming, and as he did so, a little white, tender lamb ran on ahead of its mother right into the jaws of death, for not twenty steps ahead crouched the wolf ready to spring.

The little lamb came nearer. The wolf crouched on his hind legs a little more, opened his mouth, and sprang; but instead of his teeth closing on the tender morsel, he felt himself pinioned on a pair of long, sharp horns.

But Billy was also surprised to find on closer inspection that his supposed wolf was not a wolf at all, but one of the half-civilized dogs from the placita, or Mexican village. It seems that these dogs will guard their own flocks from an enemy, but will sneak out and eat up any young lamb that strays from the fold of a stranger’s flock.

After this the sheep were more fond of Billy than ever and would go anywhere he led them without a murmur.

_A Fight With Wolves._

Several days after this when Billy was out in the mountains he noticed that it grew suddenly cold and that light flurries of snow began to blow and swirl through the mountain passes. He climbed to the top of a peak whence he could get a good view of the clouds and saw, advancing from the direction of the main range, a terrible black cloud that was hurling snow and sleet on the mountains and valleys as it came.

It took him but a moment to decide what to do, for he knew if the young lambs were caught out in such a severe storm they would be frozen to death. So he turned back to the flock and told them to follow him as quickly as they could and not to stop to take even a mouthful of grass. He led them into the deepest, most sheltered cañon he could find and told them to stand close together so as to keep each other as warm as possible and to be careful to see that the young sheep and lambs were on the inside where it would be the warmest.

Here they stood while the storm raged and blew over and above the cañon, but the sheep were so sheltered that scarcely any snow fell on them, as the force of the wind carried it over. It grew darker and darker and time to go home, but Billy said:

“We will have to stay here all night. It will never do to go out in such a storm onto the open prairie. Half of you would perish with the cold before you got across the valley.”

So there they stayed in their little sheltered nook undisturbed until about midnight, when they were startled by hearing the weird yelping bark of a pack of prairie wolves coming straight down the cañon. This threw the sheep into a terrible panic, for they knew that same pack of wolves only too well; they had made raids on them before and carried off a baby lamb and now and then an old sheep.

Now Billy had never met or even seen a wolf in his life, but he had absolutely no fear of them, as he knew they were too much like dogs to be afraid of. Still he did not know how he would come out fighting a whole pack by himself, and from the sound of their voices it seemed as if there must be at least fifty of them.

“Now all you rams that have horns make a circle around the sheep, and if a wolf tries to get through in order to get at a young sheep, fight for your lives and theirs and don’t give up and run off. While you do this I will run here and there wherever I think a wolf is most likely to break through your circle and kill them one by one, for I am not afraid of any wolf I ever heard of.”

This stand of Billy’s gave them more courage, but they were so accustomed to turn tail and run at the approach of danger that Billy was afraid they would do so now at the first sight they got of the wolves.

All this time the wolves had been drawing nearer and nearer, until now only the bend of the pass separated them from the flock.

Soon the yellowish light of seven pairs of eyes glared through the blackness. This was met by the fiery red light in Billy Jr.’s eyes. The trembling sheep dared not move nor look up. Not so Billy! His eyes fairly blazed defiance, and with a snort of rage he bounded on the leader of the pack and killed him before he knew what had struck him. Billy was so black the wolves could not see him; all they could see were the red balls of fire that seemed to be here, there, and everywhere, the most deadly balls they had ever come in contact with, for wherever they appeared a wolf lay dead the next moment.

Billy heard a bleat of agony, and looking to where it came from saw a dark object in among the white, and knew that a wolf had broken through the ring he had formed for their protection and the old rams were deserting their post and running away.

“Come back, you cowards!” Billy cried. “You will only be killed if you go out alone.” This brought them to their senses and they closed in once more around the sheep, but left Billy to do all the fighting. This he did with a vengeance and to such good purpose that the wolves commenced to slink away, wondering what kind of a leader these sheep had in the place of old Long Hair.

The next morning Billy Jr. led the sheep home, thinking it would be better for them in the corral than out on the mountains until the weather moderated, for they were not used to such storms in this climate.

When Mr. Wilder saw Billy leading the flock home he went to meet him on Star and said:

“Billy, I was not mistaken in taking you for a born leader. You are worth your weight in gold. But it beats me where you hid yourselves last night, for we looked for you and could not find one of you. And then for you to come back out of such a storm without even a lamb missing is remarkable. I wonder the wolves did not get after you and kill some of the young lambs, even if they did not freeze to death.” And Billy Jr. wondered what he would have said could he see the dead wolves lying in the cañon.

Three days after the dead bodies were found by a man from another ranch when looking for his sheep that had been lost since the night of the storm and, seeing some small flecks of wool sticking to the side of the rocks opposite, he knew why his neighbor’s sheep had not been killed and his had. He immediately rode over and told Mr. Wilder, who rode back to see where Billy had fought his brave battle and saved so many lives. From that day on Billy was the hero he deserved to be and no amount of money could have bought him.

As the sheep stayed in the corral the next day after the storm, Billy thought he would try and find Star and have a talk with him. So he jumped the low wall of the corral and soon found his friend in the stable-yard chewing some corn husks.