These innumerable multitudes of beasts often form an insurmountable obstacle to the passage of the trains. Thousands of them have been seen passing over the track for hours in compact ranks. The locomotive is then forced to stop and wait till the road is once more clear.
This happened to the train in which Mr. Fogg was traveling. About twelve o'clock a troop of ten or twelve thousand head of buffalo covered the track. The locomotive, slackening its speed, tried to clear the way with its cowcatcher; but the mass of animals was too great. The buffaloes marched along with a tranquil gait, uttering now and then deafening bellowings. There was no use of interrupting them, for, having taken a particular direction, nothing can moderate and change their course. It is a torrent of living flesh which no dam could contain.
The travelers gazed on this curious spectacle from the platforms. But Phileas Fogg, who had the most reason of all to be in a hurry, remained in his seat, and waited philosophically until it should please the buffaloes to get out of the way.
Passepartout was furious at the delay, and longed to discharge his arsenal of revolvers upon them.
"What a country!" he cried. "Mere cattle stop the trains, and go by in a procession, just as if they were not impeding travel! Parbleu! I should like to know if Mr. Fogg foresaw this mishap in his program! And here's an engineer who doesn't dare to run the locomotive into this herd of beasts!"
The engineer did not try to overcome the obstacle, and he was wise. He would have crushed the first buffaloes, no doubt, with the cowcatcher; but the locomotive, however powerful, would soon have been checked, the train would inevitably have been thrown off the track, and would then have been helpless.
The best course was to wait patiently, and regain the lost time by greater speed when the obstacle was removed. The procession of buffaloes lasted three full hours, and it was night before the track was clear. The last ranks of the herd were now passing over the rails, while the first had already disappeared below the southern horizon.
It was eight o'clock when the train passed through the defiles of the Humboldt Range, and half-past nine when it penetrated Utah, the region of the Great Salt Lake, the singular colony of the Mormons.
Chapter 27
In Which Passepartout Undergoes, at a Speed of Twenty Miles an Hour, a Course of Mormon History
During the night of the 5th of December, the train ran south-easterly for about fifty miles; then rose an equal distance in a northeasterly direction, towards the Great Salt Lake.
Passepartout, about nine o'clock, went out upon the platform to take the air. The weather was cold, the heavens grey, but it was not snowing. The sun's disc, enlarged by the mist, seemed an enormous ring of gold, and Passepartout was amusing himself by calculating its value in pounds sterling, when he was diverted from this interesting study by a strange-looking person who made his appearance on the platform.
This person, who had taken the train at Elko, was tall and dark, with black moustache, black stockings, a black silk hat, a black waistcoat, black trousers, a white cravat and dogskin gloves. He might have been taken for a clergyman. He went from one end of the train to the other, and affixed to the door of each car a notice written in manuscript.
Passepartout approached and read one of these notices. It stated that Elder William Hitch, Mormon missionary, taking advantage of his presence on train No.48, would deliver a lecture on Mormonism in car No.117, from eleven to twelveo'clock; and that he invited all who were desirous of being instructed concerning the mysteries of the religion of the "Latter Day Saints" to attend.
"I'll go," said Passepartout to himself. He knew nothing of Mormonism except the custom of polygamy, which is its foundation.
The news quickly spread through the train, which contained about one hundred passengers, thirty of whom, at most, attracted by the notice, seated themselves in car No.117.