The Call of the Unknown 



fair" the night they crossed the Wa- 

 bash, and that the poor tired mother 

 and her flock, the horses and the cows 

 that trailed along behind, and the 

 family dog that lay under the canvas- 

 covered wagon while they slept, found 

 rest and strength renewed each time 

 they halted on their way across 

 central Indiana and Illinois. There 

 was a place called Iowa, said to be 

 richer far than all the rest. Not even 

 the wild "Father of Waters" at its 

 flood could set bounds to this iron- 

 hearted farmer of the Rappahannock. 

 The mother's heart was breaking, but 

 what of that? Grand grass and deep, 

 black soils were being traversed from 

 sun to sun, but "nothing doing." The 

 old whip cracked, and the wagons 

 creaked and the horses sweat, and the 

 cattle lagged, but on, ever on! Some 

 day we'll stop and build another cabin 

 in a wood, if there only be a creek 

 nearby. The dog's tongue hung out, 

 but he alone of all the company was 



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