The
next one we come across we'll try it."
That afternoon we caught a fine specimen, and Jack securely
fastened this message to it and turned it adrift:
"Schooner Rattletrap, September --, 188-: Latitude.
42.50; Longitude, 99.35. To Whom it may Concern: From Prairie
Flower, bound for Deadwood. All well except Old Blacky, who has
an appetite."
The night after our stop by the unfinished house we again
camped on the open prairie, a quarter of a mile from a settler's
house, where we got water for the horses. This house was really a
"dugout," being more of a cellar than a house. It was built in
the side of a little bank, the back of the sod roof level with
the ground, and the front but two or three feet above it.
"I'd be afraid, if I were living in it, that a heavy rain in
the night might fill it up, and float the bedstead, and bump my
nose on the ceiling," said Jack.
Ir had been a warm afternoon, but when we went to bed it was
cooler, though there was no wind stirring. The smoke of our
camp-fire went straight up.
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