The oxen or “bulls” (as they were called) were guided by voice and whip. The whip, though, rarely touched them hard; just a flick of the lash at one side or the other of the leading span was enough. A sharp “Gee up!” or a “Whoa, haw, Buck!” and a motion of the lash, did the business. Some of the oxen seemed to be very wise. “Do you know what those whips are, Red?” asked Billy. “Raw hide.” “Better than that. I’ll get one and show you when we camp.” So he did that noon. “Hickory stock, and lash of buffalo hide, tanned, with a buck-skin cracker,” informed Billy. “Eighteen inch stock, eighteen foot lash, and cost eighteen dollars. You ought to see some of these whackers sling a whip! They can stand at the fore wheel and pick a fly off the lead team! Yes, and they can take a chunk of hide out, too――but they don’t often do that.” Davy curiously examined the bull whip. The stock was short and smooth, the lash was long and braided thickest in the middle, like the shape of a snake. The cracker was about six inches in length, and already had frayed at the tip; and no wonder, for it had often been made to snap like a pistol shot! “I can swing the thing a little, but it’s sort of long for me,” announced Billy, proceeding to practise with it, until he had almost taken off his own ear, and made the whole mess uneasy. “I’m not going to quit, though,” he added, “until I can throw a bull whip as good as anybody;” and he took the whip back to its owner. Billy was quite a privileged character, at camp and on the march. Everybody liked him, and considered him about as good as a man. To be an “extra hand” was no small job. It meant that whenever any of the teamsters was sick or hurt or otherwise laid off, “little Billy” took his place. The “extra hand” rode with the wagon boss (who was Lew Simpson), carried orders for him down the line, and was held ready to fill a vacancy. So this duty required a boy of no ordinary pluck and sense. Besides, it was generally known that Billy was drawing wages to give to his mother, who was a widow trying to raise a family. Billy was the “man” of the family, and they depended on him. The wagon train liked him all the more for this. Everybody spoke well of “little Billy,” for his good sense and his courage. Davy heard many stories of what he had done. The fight in the mule fort had showed his quality in danger; and he had proved himself in several other “scrimmages” with the Indians.