The Way West Read Online Free PDF Page A

commit himself. "I was going to look at some mules."
   "I'll tail along if you don't mind."
   Hig reached down and took Tod's willing hand, and Fairman thought, a little helplessly, that, sure enough, he had done hired himself a man.
   The mule trader was standing by the pole fence, smoking a cigar and looking through the smoke at the animals inside. He was a puffy man with a round belly and a loose mouth that squirmed around the butt of the cigar. In his belt he carried a dirk. He said, "Figurin' to buy mules?"
   "I thought I might."
   "I got some the likes of which ain't often found."
   Hig said, "That's Scripture, I bet."
   The man looked at him sharply and went on, "You take that bastard there." He pointed with his cigar. "He'll take you there and bring you back. Broke to saddle, pack, harness, and all. Good in a team or by hisself. And sure-footed! He can turn around in a hen's nest and never crack a egg." The man puffed at the cigar as if to restore his wind. "Tolty's the name."
   "Fairman, and this is Higgins."
   "Strangers, ain't you?"
   "I haven't been here long."
   "Me, neither," Tolty said. "Jest long enough to get set up for the Oregon trade. You bound for Oregon, I reckon? Good country, Oregon is."
   Tod said, "I won't have fever any more."
   "Now that's good. Fever's damn mizzable, congestive, relapsin', intermittent, bilious, or plain shakes. Now about them mules-" He walked to the fence and let down the bars of the pole gate, pausing as he did so to look at a horseman who had jogged up and sat quiet for a minute and then swung out of the saddle.
   "Lookin' for mules?" Tolty asked while he held a pole in his hand.
   "Just easin' home," the man answered. "Neighbor asked me to see if you had some smart ones." He took off his hat and ran his hand through a thatch of silvery hair. His movements, like his talk, were deliberate and easy, as if he had lived long enough to feel at home in the world.
   "Damn right I got smart ones," Tolty said. "I'll git to you directly." He turned to Fairman. "I can let you have one or a dozen. That there big mule'll pull hisself blind if you don't watch out. Man, he's a puller."
   "I just want riding stock. I'll buy oxen for the wagons."
   "You ain't bought 'em, eh?"
   "Not yet. I'm in the market for some cattle, too."
   "Now let me tell you something," Tolty said, gesturing with the cigar. "I sell mules and oxen both, even if I ain't got ary oxen right now. And if I was goin' to Oregon, I'd go by mule."
   "Why?"
   "A mule's faster, smarter, quicker handled, and better all around. Nicer to sit behind, too."
   "More wind, maybe, but less drizzle," Hig said, smiling his thin smile.
   "An ox, now, will do his best," Tolty continued, "but when he peters out he lies down, and by God you can't get him up with a hayfork."
   Tod yanked at Fairman's hand. "I want the big bastard, Father."
   "That's not the way to talk, Tod."
   "Beats all," Tolty said, "how they pick up things. Now whare'd he hear that, you reckon?"
   Fairman asked, "How much?"
"Forty dollars each, two for seventy-five, and take your pick."
   "It's enough."
   "Cheap. Cheap as dirt."
   Hig got into the conversation again. "Where you from, that dirt's so dear?"
   Tolty only looked at him.
   "And you'd take mules?" Fairman asked.
   "You can ride a mule or pack 'im, which same you can't do with a ox. Come a time when you wanted to circle up against Indians, whare'd you be with a slowpoke of a ox?"
   "You haven't traveled the trail?"
   "No, and neither did I ever drop a shoat, but I know good bacon."
   "Your advice isn't what I've been getting."
   "People'll tell you anything."
   The man outside the fence put a foot on a stump and dangled the bridle reins in his hand. He wasn't thin or fat, but, Fairman thought, somehow fluid with muscle. His face was lined but calm, as if it