A Trip to Town 



road leading south, where we found the going 

 better, as the trail had been pretty well broken. 

 Our rate of progress did not exceed three miles 

 an hour, but the runners of the sleigh slid along 

 with a pleasant hissing sound, and the time wore 

 on as we chatted, in the intervals of urging on 

 the bulls, especially Nigger, who was much slower 

 than Joe. 



After an hour or so we began to feel very cold, 

 and decided to get down and walk awhile. A 

 look at the noses of the oxen showed us their 

 breath had frozen around parts of their coupling 

 chain and headgear into pieces of solid ice, and 

 looked white on their shaggy faces, necks, and 

 shoulders. 



It was necessary to walk beside the oxen to 

 urge them on, and as this meant floundering 

 through the snow, we took it in turns, one 

 driving and one walking behind the sleigh for 

 a time, and eventually both again mounted to 

 the spring seat. 



By midday we were glad to pull into the hospit- 

 able homestead of Mr. and Mrs. S , where 



we not only got some dinner, but thoroughly 

 warmed up before starting on the fourteen miles 

 that remained. 



During the afternoon we were overtaken by 

 four horse teams proceeding in company to load 



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