hain and pulls it taut. "Stuck!"
answers the man in front, thrusting one of the steel pins that he
carries in his hand into the ground. Then he runs on, and the rear
chainman runs after him, but just a hundred feet behind.

Two axemen, one with a bundle of marked stakes in his arms, and the
other carrying an axe with which to drive them, follow the chain
closely. At the end of each five hundred feet they drive a stake. If
stakes were not so scarce in this country, they would set one at the end
of every hundred feet. It does not make much difference; for these
stakes will not remain standing very long anyhow. The buffalo will soon
pull them up, by rubbing and scratching their heads against them. At the
end of every half-mile, a mound of earth--or stones, if they can be
found--is thrown up; and these the Indians will level whenever they come
across them. Perhaps some of them will be left, though.

While the chainmen are measuring the distance to that front flag, and
the axemen are driving stakes and throwing up mounds, the transit-man,
mounted on a steady-going mule, with the transit on his shoulder, is
galloping ahead to where the front flag awaits him. Only the back
flagman is left standing at the place from which the first sight was
taken.

The front flagman thrust a small stake in the ground, drove a tack in
its centre, and held his flag on it before he waved the transit-man up.
Now the transit is set over this stake so that the centre of the
instrument is directly over the tack; and while it is being made ready
the front flag is again galloping away over the rolling prairie, far in
advance of the rest of the party.

The transit-man first looks through his telescope at the back flag, now
far behind him, and waves to him to come on. Then the telescope is
reversed, and he is ready to wave the front flag into line as soon as he
stops.

The leveller, with two rodmen, all well mounted, follow behind the
transit-party, noting, by means of their instruments, the elevation
above sea-level of every stake that is driven.

So the work goes on with marvellous rapidity--every man and horse and
mule on a run until two miles have been chained and it is time for the
breathless first division to have a rest.

Mr. Hobart has watched their work carefully. He has also made some
changes in his force, and is going to see what sort of a front flagman
Glen Eddy will make. This is because Nettle has proved herself the
fleetest pony i