but a vast expanse of flat levels,--the table-lands of Nebraska. There was
little that was beautiful in the landscape, which was principally made up
of wide reaches of sand, dotted with cactus and grease-wood and with the
droll cone-shaped burrows of the prairie-dogs, who could be seen gravely
sitting on the roofs of their houses, or turning sudden somersaults in at
the holes on top as the train whizzed by. They passed and repassed long
links of a broad shallow river which the maps showed to be the Platte, and
which seemed to be made of two-thirds sand to one-third water. Now and
again mounted horsemen appeared in the distance whom Mr. Dayton said were
"cow-boys;" but no cows were visible, and the rapidly moving figures were
neither as picturesque nor as formidable as they had expected them to be.

Flowers were still abundant, and their splendid masses gave the charm of
color to the rather arid landscape. Soon after noon dim blue outlines came
into view, which grew rapidly bolder and more distinct, and revealed
themselves as the Rocky Mountains,--the "backbone of the American
Continent," of which we have all heard so much in geographies and the
newspapers. It was delightful, in spite of dust and glare, to sit with
that sweep of magnificent air rushing into their lungs, and watch the
great ranges grow and grow and deepen in hue, till they seemed close at
hand. To Katy they were like enchanted land. Somewhere on the other side
of them, on the dim Pacific coast, her husband was waiting for her to
come, and the wheels seemed to revolve with a regular rhythmic beat to the
cadence of the old Scotch song,--

"And will I see his face again;
And will I hear him speak?"

But to Clover the wheels sang something less jubilant, and she studied the
mountains on her little travelling-map, and measured their distance from