Neville and Mr. Clarence had been feasting the braves, and the
attendants had been washing dishes, repacking hampers, and reloading
wagons for a fresh start.

When all was ready the wayfarers took leave of the Indians and
re-entered their conveyances and resumed their route, leaving the
savages still feasting on the fragments that remained.

It was now two o'clock in the afternoon, as the long trail of carryalls
and army wagons passed up from the beautiful valley and out upon the
vast prairie that still rolled on before them in hills and hollows of
gold and bronze, blazing under the bright autumnal sun.

Men and women, mules and horses, had all been rested and refreshed by
their mid-day halt and repast.

The people, however, seemed less inclined to observe and converse than
in the forenoon.

Even Clarence saw more than one flock of birds sail over their heads,
and made no sign; saw a herd of deer stand and gaze, and said not a
word.

At length Clarence took out his cigar and lit it, and as he smoked he
watched the descending sun until it sank below the horizon and sent up
the most singular after-glow that Clarence had ever seen--a shower of
sparks and needle-like flames from the edge of the prairie immediately
under the horizon.

"Looks like de worl' was ketchin on fire ober dere, Marse Clarence,"
said young Mark, speaking for the first time since they had resumed
their march.

"It is only the light reflected by the prairie, my boy," kindly replied
Mr. Clarence. And then he smoked on in silence, while the after-glow
died out, the twilight faded, and one by one the stars came out. Corona
seemed to be slumbering in her seat. Young Mark crooned low, as if to
himself, a weird, old camp meeting hymn. It was so dark that he could
not have seen to guide his horses, had not the captain's carryall been
immediately in front of his own, and the long trail of wagons in front
of the captain's, with lantern carried by the advance guard to show the
way.

"What's the matter?" suddenly called out Mr. Clarence, who was aroused
from his reverie by the halt of the whole procession.

"We 'pears to got sumwhurze," replied Mark, strongly pulling in his
horses, which had nearly run into the back of the captain's stationary
carryall in front.

"We are at Burley's," called out Captain Neville from his seat.

While he spoke Mike O'Reilly brought up a lantern to show their way to
the house.

Clarence alighted and handed down his