"A long ways," I said.

"Is it on this awful prairie?" she inquired.

"Yes," said I, "I guess it is. It's farther away from timber than this I
calculate."

"My lord," she burst out. "I'll simply die of the horrors!"

She looked over the trail toward Dubuque, and then slowly went into the
house.

So, then, these two with all their strange actions were going to
Monterey County! They would be neighbors of mine, maybe; but probably
not. They looked like town people; and I knew already the distance that
separated farmers from the dwellers in the towns--a difference that as I
read history, runs away back through all the past. They were far removed
from what I should be--something that I realized more and more all
through my life--the difference between those who live on the farms and
those who live on the farmers.

There was a two-seated covered carriage standing before the house, and
across the road were two mover-wagons, with a nice camp-fire blazing,
and half a dozen men and women and a lot of children about it cooking a
meal of victuals. I pulled over near them and turned my cows out, tied
down head and foot so they could bait and not stray too far. I noticed
that their cows, which were driven after the wagon, had found too fast
for them the pace set by the horse teams, had got very foot-sore, and
were lying down and not feeding--for I drove them up to see what was the