Many strange little histories were told me about these men, but
which I have no time to record here. In some parts of the country where
water was very scarce, there seemed to be no vegetation, and the cattle
seemed to wander solitarily along, a mere heap of hide and bone. At
many stations I had quite a considerable interval for running about,
such as when a wheel caught fire, which happened two or three times, or
some freight had to be taken in, or taken out, etc. When the train again
starts, the conductors shout "All aboard," and there is a general rush.
The next day (December 20th) was again a brilliant day of sunshine; we
see many buzzards, and breakfast at San Antonio. The railway stations
along this country have two roofs, one being two or three feet above the
other, so that air between should keep the building cool. At breakfast,
I read the San Antonio _Daily Express_, which informed me "severe storms
prevailed everywhere in Great Britain," and my thoughts were naturally
much occupied with the Old Country. The day was sultry, but sunshine is
always a great treat to me, and it was never too hot.
Now we are running into civilization again, and I catch sight of a man
ploughing; he has a pair of mules, and is holding the reins in his
teeth. As we proceed, it is a continuous succession of cotton fields,
cotton fields, cotton fields.
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