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Hough, Emerson, 1857-1923

"The Way of a Man"


"The settlements for them that likes 'em," said he. "For me, there's
nothing like the time when I start west, with a horse under me, and run
_au large_, as the French traders say. You'll get a chance now to see
the Plains, my son."
At first we saw rather the prairies than the Plains proper. We were
following a plainly marked trail, which wound in and out among low
rolling hills; and for two days we remained in touch with the scattered
huts of the squalid, half-civilized Indians and squaw men who still hung
around the upper reservations. Bleached bones of the buffalo we saw here
and there, but there was no game. The buffalo had long years since been
driven far to the westward. We took some fine fish in the clear waters
of the forks of the Blue, which with some difficulty we were able to
ford. Gradually shaking down into better organization, we fared on and
on day after day, until the grass grew shorter and the hills flatter. At
last we approached the valley of the Platte.
We were coming now indeed into the great Plains, of which I had heard
all my youth. A new atmosphere seemed to invest the world. The talk of
my companions was of things new and wild and strange to me.


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