II
All next day the train puffed over the snow-blown plains. There waslittle in the prospect, save an inspiration to thankfulness that thecars were warm and comfortable. Bob and Welton spent the morning goingover their plans for the new country. After lunch, which in the mannerof trans-continental travellers they stretched over as long a period aspossible, they again repaired to the smoking car. Baker hailed themjovially, waving a stubby forefinger at vacant seats.
"Say, do Populists grow whiskers, or do whiskers make Populists?" hedemanded.
"Give it up," replied Welton promptly. "Why?"
"Because if whiskers make Populists, I don't blame this state for goingPop. A fellow'd have to grow some kind of natural chest protector inself-defence. Look at that snow! And thirty dollars will take you outwhere there's none of it, and the soil's better, and you can seesomething around you besides fresh air. Why, any one of these poorpinhead farmers could come out our way, get twenty acres of irrigatedland, and in five years--"
"Hold on!" cried Bob, "you haven't by any chance some of that realestate for sale--or a sandbag?"
Baker laughed.
"Everybody gets that way," said he. "I'll bet the first five men youmeet will fill you up on statistics."
He knew the country well, and pointed out in turn the first low rises ofthe prairie swell, and the distant Rockies like a faint blue and whitecloud close down along the horizon. Bob had never seen any realmountains before, and so was much interested. The train laboured up thegrades, steep to the engine, but insignificant to the eye; it passedthrough the canons to the broad central plateau. The country was brokenand strange, with its wide, free sweeps, its sage brush, its stuntedtrees, but it was not mountainous as Bob had conceived mountains. Bakergrinned at him.
"Snowclad peaks not up to specifications?" he inquired. "Chromos muchbetter? Mountain grandeur somewhat on the blink? Where'd you expect themto put a railroad--out where the scenery is? Never mind. Wait till youslide off 'Cape Horn' into California."
The cold weather followed them to the top of the Sierras. Snow, dullclouds, mists and cold enveloped the train. Miles of snowshedsnecessitated keeping the artificial light burning even at midday. Winterheld them in its grip.
Then one morning they rounded the bold corner of a high mountain. Farbelow them dropped away the lesser peaks, down a breathless descent. Andfrom beneath, so distant as to draw over themselves a tender veil ofpearl gray, flowed out foothills and green plains. The engine coughed,shut off the roar of her exhaust. The train glided silently forward.
"Now come to the rear platform," Baker advised.
They sat in the open air while the train rushed downward. From the greatdrifts they ran to the soft, melting snow, then to the mud and freshnessof early spring. Small boys crowded early wild-flowers on them wheneverthey stopped at the small towns built on the red clay. The air becameindescribably soft and balmy, full of a gentle caress. At the nextstation the children brought oranges. A little farther the foothillranches began to show the brightness of flowers. The most dilapidatedhovel was glorified by splendid sprays of red roses big as cabbages.Dooryards of the tiniest shacks blazed with red and yellow. Trees andplants new to Bob's experience and strangely and delightfully exotic insuggestion began to usurp the landscape. To the far Northerner, broughtup in only a common-school knowledge of olive trees, palms, eucalyptus,oranges, banana trees, pomegranates and the ordinary semi-tropicalfruits, there is something delightful and wonderful in the first sightof them living and flourishing in the open. When closer investigationreveals a whole series of which he probably does not remember ever tohave heard, he feels indeed an explorer in a new and wonderful land.After a few months these things become old stories. They take theirplaces in his cosmos as accustomed things. He is then at some pains tounderstand his visitor's extravagant interest and delight over loquats,chiramoyas, alligator pears, tamarinds, guavas, the blooming of centuryplants, the fruits of chollas and the like. Baker pointed out some ofthese things to Bob.
"Winter to summer in two jumps and a hop," said he. "The come-on stuffrings the bell in this respect, anyway. Smell the air: it's real air.'Listen to the mocking bird.'"
"Seriously or figuratively?" asked Bob. "I mean, is that a real mockingbird?"
"Surest thing you know," replied Baker as the train moved on, leavingthe songster to his ecstasies. "They sing all night out here. Soundsfine when you haven't a grouch. Then you want to collect a brick anddrive the darn fowl off the reservation."
"I never saw one before outside a cage," said Bob.
"There's lots of things you haven't seen that you're going to see, nowyou've got out to the Real Thing," said Baker. "Why, right in your ownline: you don't know what big pine is. Wait till you see the woods outhere. We've got the biggest trees, and the biggest mountains, and thebiggest crops and the biggest--."
"Liars," broke in Bob, laughing. "Don't forget them."
"Yes, the biggest liars, too," agreed Baker. "A man's got to lie big outhere to keep in practice so he can tell the plain truth withoutstraining himself."
Before they changed cars to the Valley line, Baker had a suggestion tomake.
"Look here," said he, "why _don't_ you come and look at the tallbuildings? You can't do anything in the mountains yet, and when you getgoing you'll be too busy to see California. Come, make a pasear. Glad toshow you the sights. Get reckless. Take a chance. Peruse carefully yourcopy of Rules for Rubes and try it on."
"Go ahead," said Welton, unexpectedly.