Twenty-Nine years have elapsed since the events related in this story. The Indians, buffalo, and antelope have all disappeared. There is no longer any frontier.
Granite monuments mark the dividing line between great states. The children of this generation will never know by experience the hardships, the perils, and the amusements which so conspicuously characterized the life of Joe, Rob, Gertrude, and Kate at Errolstrath.
General Custer, Colonel Keogh, and nearly all of the famous cavalry regiment commanded by the great Indian fighter went down to their death in the awful massacre at the battle of the Little Bighorn, or Rosebud, as it is sometimes called.
The old trapper, Mr. Tucker, who was such a warm friend of the family, has long since passed away. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson are buried in the quiet cemetery on the hill, near the ranche. Kate and her sister have been married for many years and still live in Kansas, but not at the dear old home. Errolstrath belongs to Joe and Rob. It is now a large ranche, comprising many thousand acres. Where the buffalo and the antelope used to roam in such vast herds are to be seen, peacefully grazing, hundreds of mild-eyed Jerseys and the broad-backed Durhams. A new house with all modern improvements has been erected on the site of the old one. On its broad veranda may be seen every evening in summer the children of the two brothers, to whom, as the shadows lengthen, they tell of their own early experiences when they too were children and when the ranche was far out in the wilderness of the great central plains.
The shrill whistle of the locomotive may be heard at the ranche as the palace trains with their load of living freight dash along the bank of the Smoky Hill, toward the Rocky Mountains. Ellsworth has grown to be a beautiful town with electric lights and all the appliances of our wonderful nineteenth century civilization.
The moon shines as brightly and the birds sing as sweetly as of yore around Errolstrath, but of all the familiar faces that knew it so many years ago, only those of Joe and Rob may be seen. Even they are bearded, their hair is slightly mixed with gray. They are growing old; but the laughter of their merry children serves to keep green the memory of their own happy childhood.