There were the hills along Midas River shutting off the East, and hills to the south that Frosty told me went on for miles and miles, and on the north stretched White Divide--only it was brown, and bleak, and several other undesirable things.

When I looked at it, I used to wonder at men fighting over it.

I did a heap of wondering, those first few days.
Taken in a lump, it wasn't my style, and I wasn't particular to keep my opinions a secret.

For the ranch itself, it looked to me like a village of corrals and sheds and stables, evidently built with an eye to usefulness, and with the idea that harmony of outline is a sin and not to be tolerated.

The house was put up on the same plan, gave shelter to Perry Potter and the cook, had a big, bare dining-room where the men all ate together without napkins or other accessories of civilization, and a couple of bedrooms that were colder, if I remember correctly, than outdoors.