he looked over abandon-the empty , smokeless cabins , the cribs , silent dance hall , his dark chapel on the opposite slope-and he could n't stop the thoughts , remembering that first day he 'd arrived here by stage , the town pure energy and motion , the new-sawn yellow boards of the buildings and the smell of fresh-cut wood , streets a soup of mud and shit and garbage , crowded with horses , buggies , pack trains , sidewalks jammed with miners , packers , whores , gamblers , con men , everyone trying to fill their wallets , eyes electric with a peculiar mix of misery , lust , and manic greed .