n the dashboard of the wagon. At
length, quietly, and with no comment, he unbuckled the reins and threw
them out and down upon the ground on either side of the wagon.

"Whoa, boys," he called to the horses, which were too weary to note
that they were no longer asked to go farther on. Then the driver got
deliberately down. He was a tall man, of good bearing, in his
shoulders but little of the stoop of the farmer, and on his hands not
any convincing proof that he was personally acquainted with continuous
bodily toil. His face was thin, aquiline, proud; his hair dark, his
eyes gray. He might have been a planter, a rancher, a man of leisure
or a man of affairs, as it might happen that one met him at the one
locality or the other. One might have called him a gentleman, another
only a "pilgrim." To Sam he was a "mover," and that was all. His own
duty as proselyter was obvious. Each new settlement was at war with
all others, population being the first need.

"We'll turn out here," said the man, striking his heel upon the ground
with significant gesture, as was an unconscious custom among the men
who chose out land for themselves in a new region. "We'll stop here
for a bite to eat, and I reckon we won't go any farther west. How is
this country around here for water?"

"Sure," said Sam, "excuse me. I've got a jug along with me. I nearly
always carry some water along, because they ain't but one creek, and
they ain't no wells.--Have a drink, miss?" And he politely pulled out
the wooden stopper of a jug and offered it with a hand which jumped in
spite of himself.

"Thank you, sir," said the girl, and her uncle added his courteous
thanks also. "What I meant to ask, sir, however," he continued, "is
what is the prospect of getting water in this part of the country in
case we should like to settle in here?"

"Oh, that?" said Sam. "Why, say, you couldn't very well hit it much
better. Less'n a mile farther down this trail to the south you come to
the Sinks of the White Woman Creek. They's most always some water in
that creek, and you can git it there any place by diggin' ten or twenty
feet.

"That's good," said the stranger. "That's mighty good." He turned to
the wagon side and called out to his wife. "Come, Lizzie," he said,
"get out, dear, and take a rest. We'll have a bite to eat, and then
we'll talk this all over."

The woman to whom he spoke next appeared at the wagon front and was
aided to the ground.