“I don’t see any other way. There ain’t any chance to skirt it, ’cause it appears to run up and down about four thousand three hundred miles, while you can see the other side.”
This was true—that is the latter part of his assertion. The plain before them, from all appearances, was a prairie of great length, but comparatively narrow breadth. The dark line of the woods upon the opposite side could be plainly seen, and did not appear more than a good hour’s walk away.
“I don’t see any other way,” repeated Seth, musingly to himself. “It’s got to be crossed, although it’s a ticklish business, I swow!”
“Would it be better to wait until morning?” asked Graham.
“Why so?”
“We may walk into danger without seeing it, in the night.”
“And how do you s’pose we’re going to walk over here in daylight, without being targets for all the Ingins that are a mind to crack away at us?”
“Can we not pass around it?”
“Stars and garters! hain’t I told you it reaches five thousand miles each way, and it would take us three years to get half-way round?”