This was the first time we had heard of the Sand Hills, but
after this everybody was talking about them and warning us
against them.

"Why," said one man, "you know that there Sarah Desert over
in Africa somewhere? Well, sir, that there Sarah is a reg'lar
flower-garden, with fountains a-squirting and the band playing
'Hail Columbia,' 'longside o' the Newbraska Sand Hills. You'll go
through 'em for a hundred miles, and you'll wish you'd never been
born!"

This was not encouraging, but as they were still several
days' travel ahead, we resolved not to worry about them.

But the country rapidly began to grow drier and more sandy,
especially after the road ceased to follow the river. Before we
left the river valley, however, Ollie made an important discovery
in a thicket on the edge of the bank. This was a number of wild
plum-trees full of fruit. We gathered at least a half-bushel of
plums, and several quarts of wild grapes.

About the middle of the afternoon we came up on a great level
prairie stretching away to the west as far as we could see. There
seemed to be but few houses, and the scattering fields of corn
were stunted and dried up. It had apparently been an extremely
dry season, though the prospects for rain that night were good,
and grew better. It was hot, and a strong south wind was
blowing. Night soon began to come on, but we could find no good
camping-place. We had not passed a house for four or five miles,
nor a place where we could get water for the horses. As it grew