"Grey, Zane - The U.P. Trail" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grey Zane)

"Haul round--make a circle!" Horn ordered the drivers of the oxen.

This was the first time he had given this particular order, and the
men guffawed or grinned as they hauled the great, clumsy prairie-
schooners into a circle. The oxen were unhitched; the camp duffle
piled out; the ring of axes broke the stillness; fires were started.

Horn took his rifle and strode away up the brook to disappear in the
green brush of a ravine.

It was early in the evening, with the sun not yet out of sight
behind a lofty ridge that topped the valley slope. High grass,
bleached white, shone brightly on the summit. Soon several columns
of blue smoke curled lazily aloft until, catching the wind high up,
they were swept away. Meanwhile the men talked at their tasks.

"Say, pard, did you come along this here Laramie Trail goin' West?"
asked one.

"Nope. I hit the Santa Fe Trail," was the reply.

"How about you, Jones?"

"Same fer me."

"Wal," said another, "I went round to California by ship, an' I'd
hev been lucky to drown."

"An' now we're all goin' back poorer than when we started," remarked
a third.

"Pard, you've said somethin'."

"Wal, I seen a heap of gold, if I didn't find any."

"Jones, has this here Bill Horn any gold with him?"

"He acts like it," answered Jones. "An' I heerd he struck it rich
out thar."

The men appeared divided in their opinions of Bill Horn. From him
they drifted to talk of possible Indian raids and scouted the idea;
then they wondered if the famous Pony Express had been over this
Laramie Trail; finally they got on the subject of a rumored railroad
to be built from East to West.

"No railroad can't be built over this trail," said Jones, bluntly.

"Sure not. But couldn't more level ground be dug?" asked another.