The run had tired their horses somewhat, and all were willing to proceed further on a walk. They were coming to a fringe of bushes on the plain, and here found a stream of water.
"Not a ranch or a plantation of any kind in sight," announced Fred as he gazed around while some of the steeds obtained a drink. "What a wilderness certain portions of our country are!"
"Plenty of chances for emigrants," returned Songbird. "We are a long way from being filled up."
"The trouble is, so I have heard father say, so many of the emigrants stay in the big cities, rather than come out to the country," put in Sam.
Having rested for a spell at the brook, they proceeded on their way once more. The air was growing warmer and, as the sun mounted higher in the sky, they wished they were in the shadow of a forest once more.
"What a journey it must be to cover some of the immense Western plains on horseback," remarked Songbird. "To ride for miles and miles—maybe all day—without seeing a cabin or a human being."
"We know something of that," answered Dick. "We liked our trip out
West, though," he added.
Toward the middle of the afternoon they reached the first stunted growth of timber growing at the base of the hills toward which they had been journeying. At noon, as it was so hot, they had not stopped for lunch, and now they proceeded to make themselves comfortable on a patch of thick grass. Even Wags was willing to lie down and stretch out. The dog acted as if he had been a member of the party since starting from home.
"Are you going to blame me for going wrong?" demanded the poetic youth.
"I wonder if he would be any good after game?" said Sam as he looked at Wags.