Billy Whiskers Jr. by Frances Trego Montgomery - HTML preview

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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:

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“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.

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