area marked out with a
black furrow, and realizes that every foot of it must be covered with
the corn-planter, it looks formidable. The boys thought it was a very
big piece of land when they regarded it in that way. But the days soon
flew by; and even while the young workers were stumping over the
field, they consoled themselves with visions of gigantic ripe
watermelons and mammoth pumpkins and squashes that would regale their
eyes before long. For, following the example of most Kansas farmers,
they had stuck into many of the furrows with the corn the seeds of
these easily grown vines.

"Keep the melons a good way from the pumpkins, and the squashes a good
way from both, if you don't want a bad mixture," said Uncle Aleck to
the boy settlers. Then he explained that if the pollen of the
squash-blossoms should happen to fall on the melon-blossoms, the fruit
would be neither good melon nor yet good squash, but a poor mixture of
both. This piece of practical farming was not lost on Charlie; and
when he undertook the planting of the garden spot which they found
near the cabin, he took pains to separate the cucumber-beds as far as
possible from the hills in which he planted his cantaloupe seeds. The
boys were learning while they worked, even if they did grumble
occasionally over their tasks.

CHAPTER XII.

HOUSE-BUILDING.

There was a change in the programme of daily labor, when the corn was
in the ground. At odd times the settlers had gone over to the wood-lot
and had laid out their plans for the future home on that claim. There
was more variety to be expected in house-building than in planting,
and the boys had looked forward with impatience to the beginning of
that part of their enterprise. Logs for the house were cut from the
pines and firs of the hill beyond the river bluff. From these, too,
were to be riven, or split, the "shakes" for the roof-covering and for
the odd jobs of work to be done about the premises.

Now, for the first time, the boys learned the use of some of the
strange tools that they had brought with them. They had wondered over
the frow, an iron instrument about fourteen inches long, for splitting
logs. At right angles with the blade, and fixed in an eye at one end,
was a handle of hard-wood. A section of wood was stood up endwise on a
firm foundation of some sort, and the thin end of the frow was
hammered down into the grain of the wood, making a lengthwise split.

In the same way, the