Before we realized it the chronometer showed that it was
almost noon. By this time we had left the sea of sunflowers and
crept over the wrinkle at the western edge of the valley, and
were off across the rolling prairie itself. Still Snoozer never
stirred.

"I wonder when he'll wake up?" said Ollie.

"You'll see him awake enough at dinnertime," said Jack.

"Well, you'll see me awake enough then, too," answered Ollie.
"I'm hungry."

"We hardy pioneers plunging into the trackless waste of a new
and unexplored country never eat but one meal a day," said Jack.
"And that's always raw meat--b'ar-meat, generally."

"Well," said Ollie, "I don't see any b'ar-meat, or even
prairie-chicken-meat. Why didn't you hit the prairie-chicken,
Uncle Jack?"

"I'm not used to shooting at such small game," answered Jack,
solemnly. "My kind of game is b'ar--b'ar and other varmints."

Just then we passed a house, and down a little way from it,
close to the road, was a well.

"Here's a good place to have dinner," said Jack; so we drove
out by the side of the road and stopped. "If I'm to be cook,"
said Jack to me, "then you've got to take care of the horses and