"I can't find anything to build a fire of, Mother," cried Joe after a vain search, "there's nothing out here, only wind and grass. Don't you think we'd better use some of our stored-up wood?"
Lige, who was just returning from a prolonged chase after Ruth's sunbonnet, suddenly stopped short and pointed away across the prairies. Joe turned and looked, then remained staring.
"What in the name of goodness——" he ejaculated.
"Look, Mother, what are those things over there?" called Lige. "Do you think they are some kind of animals?"
"Sheep!" ventured Sam, staring away intently toward where a number of dark objects were moving rapidly toward them from the south.
"No, they're too small for sheep," said Mrs. Peniman, puckering her forehead and narrowing her eyes; "what in the world are they?"
"They've got a queer gait," cried Joe, "and they're coming a-whizzing. Could they be wild turkeys?"
"Oh, no, they're not fowl of any kind."
"Will they bite, Mother?" queried little Mary.
"Maybe they're coyotes," suggested Paul.