nt on an Illinois farm, where the prairies slope up to
the forest, he had learned the ways of wood and field, and was
full of courage, strength, and resource.

But Albert was different. He had not thrived in the moist air of
the great valley. Tall enough he was, but the width of chest and
thickness of bone were lacking. Noticing this, the idea of going
to California had come to the older brother. The great gold days
had passed years since, but it was still a land of enchantment to
the youth of the older states, and the long journey in the high,
dry air of the plains would be good for Albert. There was
nothing to keep them back. They had no property save a little
money--enough for their equipment, and a few dollars over to
live on in California until they could get work.

To decide was to start, and here they were in the middle of the
vast country that rolled away west of the Missouri, known but
little, and full of dangers. The journey had been much harder
than the older boy had expected. The days stretched out, the
weeks trailed away, and still the plains rolled before them.

The summer had been of the hottest, and the heated earth gave
back the glare until the air quivered in torrid waves. Richard
had drawn back the cover of the wagon that his brother might
breathe the air, but he replaced it now to protect him from the
overpowering beams. Once more he anxiously studied the country,
but it gave him little hope. The green of the grass was gone,
and most of the grass with it. The brown undulations swept away
from horizon to horizon, treeless, waterless, and bare. In all
that vast desolation there was nothing save the tired and dusty
train at the very center of it.

"Anything in sight, Dick?" asked Albert, who had followed his
brother's questioning look.

Dick shook his head.

"Nothing, Al," he replied.

"I wish we'd come to a grove," said the sick boy.

He longed, as do all those who are born in the hills, for the
sight of trees and clear, running water.

"I was thinking, Dick," he resumed in short, gasping tones, "that
it would be well for us, just as the evening was coming on, to go
over a swell and ride right into a forest of big oaks and maples,
with the finest little creek that you ever saw running through
the middle of it. It would be pleasant and shady there. Leaves
would be lying about, the water would be cold, and maybe we'd see
elk coming down to drink."

"Perhaps we'll have such luck, Al