nd dollars. Have you
that much with you?"

"I dinna carrie sae muckle siller wi' me, laddie," I said. I could see
he was but a salt yin, and none to be fearing. "I'll gie you a dollar
on account."

And, d'ye ken, he was pleased as Punch? It was a siller dollar I gie'd
him, for it was awa' oot west this happened, where they dinna have the
paper money so much as in the east.

That's a grand country, that western country in America, whichever
side of the line you're on, in Canada or in the States. There's land,
and there's where real men work upon it. The cities cannot lure them
awa'--not yet, at any rate. It's an adventure to work upon one of
those great farms. You'll see the wheat stretching awa' further than
the een can reach. Whiles there'll be a range, and you can see maybe
five thousand head o' cattle that bear a single brand grazing, wi' the
cowboys riding aboot here and there.

I've been on a round up in the cattle country in Texas, and that's
rare sport. Round up's when they brand the beasties. It seems a cruel
thing, maybe, to brand the bit calves the way they do, but it's
necessary, and it dosna hurt them sae much as you'd think. But ot's
the life that tempts me! It's wonderfu' to lie oot under the stars on
the range at nicht, after the day's work is done. Whiles I'd sing a
bit sang for the laddies who were my hosts, but oft they'd sing for me
instead, and that was a pleasant thing. It made a grand change.

I've aye taken it as a great compliment, and as the finest thing I
could think aboot my work, that it's true men like those cowboys, and
like the soldiers for whom I sang sae much when I was in France, o'
all the armies, who maist like to hear me sing. I've never had
audiences that counted for sae much wi' me. Maybe it's because I'm
singing, when I sing for them, for the sheer joy of doing it, and not
for siller. But I think it's mair than that. I think it's just the
sort of men they are I know are listening tae me. And man, when you
hear a hundred voices--or five thousand!--rising in a still nicht to
join in the chorus of a song of yours its something you canna forget,
if you live to any age at a'.

I've had strange accompaniments for my stings, mair than once. Oot
west the coyote has played an obligato for me; in France I've had the
whustling o' bullets over my head and the cooming of the big guns,
like the lowest notes of some great organ. I can always sing, ye ken,
wi'oot any accompaniments frae p