the back of the pack-horse. "That's the way to do it, lad," cried Joe.
"Here, Henri, look alive and git yer beast ready. I do believe ye're
goin' to take another snooze!"

Henri was indeed, at that moment, indulging in a gigantic stretch and
a cavernous yawn; but he finished both hastily, and rushed at his poor
horse as if he intended to slay it on the spot. He only threw the
saddle on its back, however, and then threw himself on the saddle.

"Now then, all ready?"

"Ay"--"Oui, yis!"

And away they went at full stretch again on their journey.

Thus day after day they travelled, and night after night they laid
them down to sleep under the trees of the forest, until at length they
reached the edge of the Great Prairie.

It was a great, a memorable day in the life of Dick Varley, that on
which he first beheld the prairie--the vast boundless prairie. He had
heard of it, talked of it, dreamed about it, but he had never--no, he
had never realized it. 'Tis always thus. Our conceptions of things
that we have not seen are almost invariably wrong. Dick's eyes
glittered, and his heart swelled, and his cheeks flushed, and his
breath came thick and quick.

"There it is," he gasped, as the great rolling plain broke suddenly on
his enraptured gaze; "that's it--oh!--"