interpreter, and
could tell them anything he chose. They could not speak enough English
to ask for advice, or even to make their most pressing wants known. One
son, Fuchs said, was well-grown, and strong enough to work the land; but
the father was old and frail and knew nothing about farming. He was a
weaver by trade; had been a skilled workman on tapestries and upholstery
materials. He had brought his fiddle with him, which wouldn't be of much
use here, though he used to pick up money by it at home.

'If they're nice people, I hate to think of them spending the winter in
that cave of Krajiek's,' said grandmother. 'It's no better than a badger
hole; no proper dugout at all. And I hear he's made them pay twenty
dollars for his old cookstove that ain't worth ten.'

'Yes'm,' said Otto; 'and he's sold 'em his oxen and his two bony old
horses for the price of good workteams. I'd have interfered about the
horses--the old man can understand some German--if I'd I a' thought it
would do any good. But Bohemians has a natural distrust of Austrians.'

Grandmother looked interested. 'Now, why is that, Otto?'

Fuchs wrinkled his brow and nose. 'Well, ma'm, it's politics. It would
take me a long while to explain.'

The land was growing rougher; I was told that we were approaching Squaw
Creek, which cut up the west half of the Shimerdas' place and made the
land of little value for farming. Soon we could see the broken,
grassy clay cliffs which indicated the windings of the stream, and the
glittering tops of the cottonwoods 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-coloured 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 window sunk deep in the drawbank. 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