The gophers whistled and trilled, the foxes barked from the hills, and
an occasional startled antelope or curious wolf passed through the line
of settlement as if to see what lay behind this strange phalanx of
ploughmen guarding their yellow shanties.
Week after week passed away, and the government surveyors did not
appear. The Boomtown _Spike_ told in each issue how the men of the
chain and compass were pushing westward; but still they did not come,
and the settlers' hopes of getting their claims filed before winter grew
fainter. The mass of them had planned to take claims in the spring, live
on them the required six months, "prove up," and return East for the
winter.
In spite of these disappointments, all continued to be merry. No one
took any part of it very seriously. The young men went out and ploughed
when they pleased, and came in and sat on the door-step and talked with
the women when they were weary. The shanties were hot and crowded, but
no one minded that; by-and-by they were to build bigger.
And, then, all was so new and beautiful, and the sky was so clear.
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