"Before we get back home that dog will want us to feed him
with a spoon," said Jack.
It was only a little while after sunrise when we were off for
another day's voyage. We were headed almost due south, and all
that day and the three or four following (including Sunday, when
we stayed in camp), we did not change our general direction. We
were aiming to reach the town of Yankton, where we intended to
cross the Missouri River and turn to the west in Nebraska. The
country through which we travelled was much of it prairie, but
more was under cultivation, and the houses of settlers were
numerous. The land on which wheat or other small grains had been
grown was bare, but as we got farther south we passed great
fields of corn, some of it standing almost as high as the top of
our wagon-cover.
For much of the way we were far from railroads and towns, and
got most of our supplies of food from the settlers whose houses
we passed or, indeed, sighted, since the pony proved as
convenient for making landings as Jack had predicted she would.
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