Life and adventures of "Billy" Dixon of Adobe Walls, Texas panhandle : $b A narrative in which is described many things relating to the early SouthwestDixon, Billy
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Life and adventures of "Billy" Dixon of Adobe Walls, Texas panhandle : $b A narrative in which is described many things relating to the early Southwest
Dixon, Billy
Frontier and pioneer life -- Texas; Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.); Indians of North America -- Wars -- 1866-1895
The fires on the Plains in fall and winter, after frost had cured the
grass, were often a magnificent spectacle, especially at night when
their radiance reddened the sky for many miles. The sky would be
luminous, even though the fire was too far beyond the horizon to be
seen. Once under strong headway, with the fire spread over a wide
area, it was difficult to arrest its progress. To the experienced
plainsman, equipped with a flint or matches, there was no imminent
danger, as he knew how to set out protective fires, and thus insure
his safety.
These big fires were rather terrifying, nevertheless, especially to
the "tenderfoot." Carried forward in the teeth of a high, boisterous
wind, the fire was appalling, and there was something sinister and
somber in the low roar that sent terror to the heart of wild animals.
Vast clouds of smoke were carried into the heavens, until the sun lost
its radiance and hung red and dull, like a copper shield, in the
opaque depths. The ashes of burned vegetation sifted down hour after
hour, as if a volcano were throwing out fine lava dust. At night, when
the wind was still, a fire on the Plains was a beautiful sight. In the
far distance, the tongues of flame appeared so small that they looked
like a red line of countless fingers, pointing with trembling motion
toward the sky. The danger of these fires to life in the Plains
country has commonly exaggerated. The grass that grew in the Plains
did not have the height to produce a sweeping, high-rolling fire, such
as was often seen in the regions of the tall bluestem in eastern
Kansas.
Upon reaching Fort Leavenworth, the wagons were unloaded, the outfits
turned over to the Government, and the "shave-tail drivers" paid off.
I had a comfortable stake for a young fellow, and spent the winter in
Leavenworth and Kansas City, mingling with the hardy frontiersmen and
listening delightedly to their incomparable tales of adventure. I went
frequently to the home of my friends, the McCall's, where I always
found a hospitable welcome. Several times I went out from both
Leavenworth and Kansas City with hunting parties. In those days,
railroad companies used to promote "personally conducted" hunting
parties to the buffalo range, hunters coming from such distances as
Cincinnati, Chicago, and St. Louis.
CHAPTER IV.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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