CHAPTER XXVI. 



THE STAGE DRIVERS OF THE PLAINS — OLD BOB ''JAMAICA AND GIKGER " — AN OLD AC- 

 QUAINTANCE — BEADS OF THE PAST ROBBING THE DEAD A LEAP FROM THE 



LOST HISTORY OF THE MOUND BUILDERS — INDIAN TRADITIONS — SPECULATIONS — 

 ADOBE HOUSES IN A RAIN — CHEAP LIVING— WATCH TOWERS. 



THE stage drivers of the plains are rapidly be- 

 coming another inheritance of the j^ast, pushed 

 out of existence by the locomotive, whose cow-catcher 

 is continually tossing them from their high seats into 

 the arms of History. What a rare set they are, 

 though ! 'No two that I ever saw were nearly alike, 

 and they respmble not one distinctive class, but a 

 number. The Jehus who crack their whips over the 

 buffalo grass region, and turn their leaders artisti- 

 cally around sharp corners in rude towns, are 

 made up on a variety of patterns. Some are loqua- 

 cious and others silent, and while a portion are given 

 to profanity, another though smaller number are 

 men of very proper grammar. Some with whom I 

 have ridden would discount truth for the mere love 

 of the exercise, while others I have found so partic- 

 ular that they could not be induced to lie, except 

 when it was for their interest to do so. 



In a village on the shores of Lake Champlain, in 

 the frozen regions of northern New York, where mer- 



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