Tall, slender, black clad, with thin, pale face,
she seemed even more unsuited than her husband to the prospect which
lay before them. She stood for a moment alone, looking about her at
the land which had long been shut off from view by the wagon tent, then
turned and went close to the man, upon whom she evidently relied for
the solution of life's problems. Immediately behind her there
clambered down from the wagon, with many groanings and complaints, the
goodly bulk of the black woman who had earlier given her advice. "Set
down yer, Mis' Lizzie, in the shade," she said, spreading a rug upon
the ground upon the side of the wagon farthest from the sun. "Set down
an' git a ress. Gawd knows we all needs it--this yer fo'saken kentry.
'Tain' good as Mizzoury, let 'lone Kaintucky er Ole Vehginny--no, mam!"

There was thus now established, by the chance of small things, the
location of a home. This wagon, with its occupants, had come far and
journeyed vaguely, having no given point in view. The meeting of this
other vehicle, here in the middle of the untracked prairie, perhaps
aided by the chance words of a tired negress, made the determining
circumstances. It was done. It was decided. There was a relief at
once upon every countenance. Now these persons were become citizens of
this land. Unwittingly, or at least tacitly, this was admitted when
the leader of this little party advanced to the side of the buckboard
and offered his hand.

"My name is Buford," he said slowly and with grave courtesy. "This is
my wife; my niece, Miss Beauchamp. Your name, sir, I don't know, but
we are very glad to meet you."

"My name's Poston," said Sam, as he also now climbed down from his
seat, seeing that the matter was clinched and that he had gained a
family for his county--"Sam Poston. I run the livery barn. I sure
hope you'll stop in here, for you won't find no better country. Do you
allow you'll move up to Ellisville and live there?"

"Well, I've started out to get some land," said Buford, "and I presume
that the first thing is to find that and get the entry made. Then
we'll have to live on it till we can commute it. I don't know that it
would suit us at Ellisville just yet. It must be a rather hard town,
from all I can learn, and hardly fit for ladies."

"That's so," said Sam, "it ain't just the quietest place in the world
for women-folks. Only five or six women in the place yet, outside the
section boss's wife a