s of every
description. It was hard to believe that many of them were not the work
of human hands; and to Glen and Binney they formed an inexhaustible
subject for wonder and speculation.

They were now more than three thousand feet above the sea-level; the
soil became poorer with every mile; there were fewer streams, and along
those that did exist timber was almost unknown.

The first line of survey was to be a hard one; for it was to run through
the very worst of this country--from the Smoky Hill to the Arkansas, a
region hitherto unexplored, and known only to the few buffalo hunters
who had crossed it at long intervals. The distance was supposed to be
about seventy miles, and there was said to be no water along the entire
route. But both a transit and a level line must be run over this barren
region, and the distance must be carefully measured. A good day's work
for a surveying-party, engaged in running a first, or preliminary, line
in an open country, is eight or ten miles; and, at this rate, the
distance between the Smoky Hill and the Arkansas rivers could be covered
in a week. But a week without water was out of the question, and General
Lyle determined to do it in three days.

On the night before beginning this remarkable survey, every canteen and
bottle that could be found was filled with water, as were several casks.
Everybody drank as much as he could in the morning, and all the animals
were watered the very last thing. Everything was packed and ready for a
start by daylight, and long before sunrise the working-party was in the
field. The first division was to run the first two miles. Its transit
was set up over the last stake of the old survey that had been ended at
that point, and the telescope was pointed in the direction of the course
now to be taken. The division engineer, with his front flagman, had
already galloped half a mile away across the plain. There they halted,
and the gayly painted staff, with its fluttering red pennon, was held
upright. Then it was moved to the right or left, as the transit-man,
peering through his telescope, waved his right or left arm. Finally, he
waved both at a time, and the front flag was thrust into the ground. It
was on line.

Now the head chainman starts off on a run, with his eyes fixed on the
distant flag, and dragging a hundred feet of glistening steel-links
behind him. "Stick!" shouts the rear chainman, who stands beside the
transit, as he grasps the end of the c