We found Chadron (pronounced Shadron) an
extremely lively town, in which all of the citizens wore big hats
and immense jingling Mexican spurs. We had the big hats, but to
be in fashion and not to attract attention we also got jingling
spurs.
"I shall wear 'em all night," said Jack, as he strapped his
on. "Only dudes take off their spurs when they go to bed, and I'm
no dude."
Our next objective point was Rapid City. It was a beautiful
morning when we turned to the north. The sand had disappeared,
and the soil was more like asphalt pavement.
"The farmers fire their seed into the ground with
six-shooters," said a man we fell in with on the road. "Very
expensive for powder."
"The soil's what you call gumbo, isn't it?" I said to him.
"Yes. Works better when it's wet. One man can stick a spade
into it then. Takes two to pull it out, though."
It was not long before we passed the Dakota line, marked by a
post and a pile of tin cans. Shortly before noon Ollie made a
discovery.
"What are those little animals?" he cried.
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