>It was a half past four when that steam engine came rolling into the station.
>Braeburn had been waiting for this particular train as he was expecting someone.
>He stood patiently by; leaning up against the wall and chewing his tobacco.
>The whistle blew and the train grinded to a halt.
>"Now arriving!" called the conductor.
>As folks began to disembark, Braeburn scanned the crowd for his guy.
>At last he found him.
>A large, hulking Earth pony, red of coat, came stepping off the passenger car and carrying a hobo sack.
>"Cousin!" called Braeburn.
>He spit the rest of the tobacco from his mouth and trotted over to greet the traveler.
>Big Mac locked eyes with Braeburn and walked to meet him.
>"I thought I'd be the first to welcome you to town," said Braeburn as he slapped a hoof onto Big Mac's shoulders.
>The red stallion stood taller than most ponies, dwarfing his cousin Braeburn.
>He stood chest-high to your average man whereas most ponies were waist-tall.
>One would be easily deceived by his bright red coat, but underneath was a wall of solid muscle.
>"What say we grab a bite to eat before going to meet the foreman?" suggested Braeburn.
>"Eeyup," agreed his cousin.
 
>Off the station platform and down Main Street led Braeburn, showing Big Mac the small mining town.
>"That's the general store over there.  They got a mighty fine selection of pistols, but those are for unicorns and humans mostly.  Still waitin' on mouth-operated guns," Braeburn said with a chuckle.
>Big Mac gave an affirmative grunt.
>"The boss's house is up on that hill there,” continued Braeburn.  “The shanty town you see down by mine entrance is where we stay.”
>Turning his head, Big Mac saw the run-down shacks.
>The shoddy wood planks and tin sheets were barely being held together by rusty nails.
>”They’re cozier than they look,” commented Braeburn.
>Big Mac looked back at his cousin and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
>”Yeah, not really,” confessed the golden earth pony; his ears lowered and face turned to the ground.
>”But!” he piped up.  “It’s all payed for by the mining company.  Food expenses too, which is why we’re here.”
>The two stop in front of the saloon.
>”Free grub!” exclaimed Braeburn.  “However, if you’re looking for whiskey, the company doesn’t pay for that.  And we only get two meals a day.”
>As they stood in front of the swinging doors, a bar patron came stumbling out and tripped down the two steps out front.
>The poor pony fell on his face and knocked himself out; eyes swirling around.
>”One minute,” Braeburn said to Big Mac as he trotted over to the poor fellow.  “Hey, partner.  You alright?”
>Braeburn gave him a light kick on the shoulder.
>The drunken pony gave a low, incoherent mumble.
>”Yeah, he’s fine,” confirmed Braeburn.  “Let’s head inside.”
>Big Mac stepped over the blacked-out pony on the ground to go inside.
>The atmosphere of the saloon was lively.
>A piano in the corner played upbeat music and there was a table of poker going on with miners blowing their weekly checks.
>Folks were laughing, drinking, and generally having a good time.
>The two cousins stood by near the door.
>”Huh,” started Braeburn.  “There’s no where to sit-”
>”My name is Sue!” shouted one of the men at the bar as he punched another off his stool.
>One cracked a chair over the other’s teeth and they crashed through the wall and rumbled in the street.
>The music stopped and everyone stared until they were outside.
>Business resumed as usual.
>”Well that solves that problem,” said Braeburn with a shrug.
>The two take a seat at the bar.
 
>”You won’t get any meal tickets until tomorrow, so it’s a good thing I skipped lunch, hey partner?”
>Big Mac nodded his head in thanks.
>”Hey there, pretty lady!” called Braeburn to the barmaid.  “Mind serving us up a hot meal?”
>The barmaid nodded in affirmation as she continued serving the table she was at before going into the kitchen.
>”Oh yeah,” piped up Braeburn.  “If you weren’t aware of it already, the saloon doubles as an inn.  The rooms aren’t fantastic and they’re usually taken up by men getting some tail, but it beats sleeping in that nasty ol’ shed we usually stay in.”
>Big Mac nodded.
>He really didn’t mind the conditions from what he saw on his way over.
>Being the humble giant he was, he was usually content with everything he had.
>But as of this moment, he’s got next to nothing.
>And still, that isn’t very bad.
>”Would you like a drink?” asked his cousin.
>Big Mac simply waved his hoof and shook his head.
>”Yeah, I’m not partial to alcohol myself.  Tastes awful and it burns my tongue.”
>Braeburn emphasized by hanging his tongue out of his mouth.
>Big Mac grunted a “Meh,” and shrugged a shoulder.

>Within a few minutes, the barmaid had brought out a plate of steamed veggies with a glass of milk for each of them.
>”Thank you kindly, ma’am,” said Braeburn, tipping his hat at the woman.
>Big Mac also gave her a friendly smile and a nod of his head.
>”You gents are quite welcome,” said the woman before she went off to serve the other customers.
>Carrots, celery, and potatoes were all the meal consisted of.
>It wasn’t much, admitted Big Mac, but damned if they weren’t delicious.
>The cousins sat in silence while they ate, listening to the sounds of the saloon.
>The piano, the laughter of men and stallions, and the occasional broken bottle or two.
>When Braeburn had finished, he leaned back in his seat and patted his tummy.
>”Ah…” he sighed in content.  “That really hit the spot.”
>Truth be told, he was still pretty hungry, but the lack of food all day caused him to accept and enjoy any amount of dinner he would be served.
>”What say we go find the foreman and talk about getting you a job?”
>With a nod, Big Mac slid off the seat and followed his cousin out the door.
>They half-expected the two men from earlier to be covered in beer and mud and holding each other, but both were long gone by now.
>Down to the shanty town Braeburn led his cousin.
>Men and pony alike were huddled around small fires for warmth.
>Others were heating up some canned beans.
>And yet even more miners having a good time by singing, dancing, and playing instruments.
>It seems that life is what you make it, here.
>Albeit still pretty horrible by the looks of things, but that’s beside the point.
>Big Mac caught all sorts of stares from the miners.
>Especially the ponies whom he towered over.
>Some of the whispers made it to his ears, but he paid them no mind.
 
>The mine foreman’s house was definitely larger than the miners’.
>Not too much, but it looked more like a house compared the the miners’ sheds.
>”The boss man should be expecting you,” said Braeburn as the cousins walked up to the home.
>Braeburn gave two knocks and waited.
>”Enter!” called a voice.
>The yellow pony opened the door and stepped aside.
>”After you, partner,” he said to his cousin.
>Big Mac entered with Braeburn right behind him.
>It was warm inside.
>The furniture was definitely cozier, too.
>”What do you want?” asked a man at the dining table.
>Apparently the two of them had just disrupted his meal.
>Braeburn took the stetson off his head and held it to his chest.
>”I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but this here’s my cousin.  He was looking for a job in the mines.”
>”Yeah, well we ain’t got no jobs,” grumbled the foreman.
>He was more than obviously irritated at the intrusion.
>”Sir if you would just reconsider, I promise you he will be the best worker you’ve ever had,” pleaded Braeburn.
>Big Mac just raised an eyebrow at how hard his cousin was trying to sell him.
>Apparently, the foreman was thinking the same thing.
>”What are you selling?” the man asked Braeburn.  “You takin’ his pay.”
>”Nope,” piped up Big Mac, taking a step forward.
>Only now did the foreman actually take notice of Big Mac’s size compared to Braeburn.
>He also noticed the yoke around the pony’s neck.
>He leaned back in his seat and clasped his hands together.
>”Hmm…  Can you hoist a jack?” he asked.
>”Eeyup,” replied Big Mac.
>”Swing a pick?  Shovel?”
>Eeyup.”
>After thinking for a second or two, he finally spoke up.
>”I’ll tell you what.  I’ll start you off at eight cents a day.  Meals and board included.  If you don’t die, you might be due for a raise.  How’s that sound?”
>Big Mac gave an affirmative nod.
>”Good.  Now get out.
 
>The two cousins hastily made their way out the front door.
>”Yeehaw!” cheered Braeburn.  “Congratulations, cousin!  Now we’re both a couple of macho miner stallions.  Just watch.  All the ladies will flock to us after a hard day’s work.”
>Big Mac smirked and shook his head.
>Braeburn always was a goofy one.
>”Now I know he didn’t give you a place to stay, but lucky for you, I have a spare bed in my shack.  The unicorn it used to belong to isn’t around anymore.”
>Braeburn’s voice became a big cold when he said that, but Big Mac didn’t pry.
>”And one thing you should know is the humans and ponies are segregated.  Only in living quarters, though.  Only the real jerks think they’re anything more than the rest of us.”
>Now that’s definitely something Big Mac is no stranger too.
>And it’s something he’d rather leave alone.
>Upon arriving at Braeburn’s hovel, there was nothing spectacular about it compared to the rest of the shacks around here.
>Braeburn threw himself backwards onto his bed and pulled his stetson down over his eyes.
>”Ah…” he sighed in content.  “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
>He spread himself out and stretched with a loud groan.
>Big Mac found the empty bed and dropped his knapsack upon it.
>”The other two are probably out playing dice,” commented Braeburn, referencing the other two racks in the room.  “You’ll meet them later.”
>Big Mac just undid his sack and revealed half an apple pie.
>Nothing else.
>He placed the treat on the table beside his cousin’s head.
>Braeburn’s nostrils flared twice as he sniffed the warm, cinnamon apple pastry.
>Taking his hat off his eyes, he instantly cheered up.
>”Yeehaw, partner!  That’s what I’m talking about!  Is this Granny’s?”
>”Eeyup,” confirmed Big Mac.
>”Well thank you kindly, cousin.  I’ll have to save this goodie for later.”
>Braeburn stuck the pie in his own knapsack.
>”Well, I’m gonna take a nap.  I’ve had a long day.”
>Once again, he stretched out and pulled the stetson back over his face.
>Seeing as how he had to be up before the sun, and being no stranger to hard labor, Big Mac thought it a good idea to hit the sack early as well.
>Removing his yoke and hanging it on the wall above him, the large pony climbed onto the bed and lied down.
>A single thin blanket is all he had for warmth, but it was more than comforting.
>He was out in no time.