stream, and the glittering tops of the cotton-
woods and ash trees that grew down in the
ravine. Some of the cottonwoods had already
turned, and the yellow leaves and shining
white bark made them look like the gold and
silver trees in fairy tales.

As we approached the Shimerdas' dwelling,
I could still see nothing but rough red hillocks,
and draws with shelving banks and long roots
hanging out where the earth had crumbled
away. Presently, against one of those banks,
I saw a sort of shed, thatched with the same
wine-colored grass that grew everywhere.
Near it tilted a shattered windmill-frame, that
had no wheel. We drove up to this skeleton to
tie our horses, and then I saw a door and win-
dow sunk deep in the draw-bank. The door
stood open, and a woman and a girl of fourteen
ran out and looked up at us hopefully. A little
girl trailed along behind them. The woman
had on her head the same embroidered shawl
with silk fringes that she wore when she had
alighted from the train at Black Hawk. She
was not old, but she was certainly not young.
Her face was alert and lively, with a sharp
chin and shrewd little eyes. She shook grand-
mother's hand energetically.

[[24]]

p023 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p024w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p025

v?