said his uncle, admiringly. "That is the best
notion yet. We will complete the cabin just as if we were to move into
it, and if anybody who looks like an intended claim-jumper comes
prowling around, we will take the alarm and move in. But so far, I'm
sure, there's been no rush to these parts. It's past planting season,
and it is not likely that anybody will get up this way, now so far
west, without our knowing it."

So the log-cabin, or, as they called it, "Whittier, Number Two," was
finished with all that the land laws required, with a window filled
with panes of glass, a door, and a "stick chimney" built of sticks
plastered with clay, a floor and space enough on the ground to take
care of a family twice as large as theirs, in case of need. When all
was done, they felt that they were now able to hold their farming
claim as well as their timber claim, for on each was a goodly
log-house, fit to live in and comfortable for the coming winter if
they should make up their minds to live in the two cabins during that
trying season.

The boys took great satisfaction in their kitchen-garden near the
house in which they were tenants; for when Younkins lived there, he
had ploughed and spaded the patch, and planted it two seasons, so now
it was an old piece of ground compared with the wild land that had
just been broken up around it. In their garden-spot they had planted a
variety of vegetables for the table, and in the glorious Kansas
sunshine, watered by frequent showers, they were thriving wonderfully.
They promised themselves much pleasure and profit from a garden that
they would make by their new cabin, when another summer should come.

"Younkins says that he can walk all over his melon-patch on the other
side of the Fork, stepping only on the melons and never touching the
ground once," said Oscar, one day, later in the season, as they were
feasting themselves on one of the delicious watermelons that now so
plentifully dotted their own corn-field.

"What a big story!" exclaimed both of the other boys at once. But
Oscar appealed to his father, who came striding by the edge of the
field where they chatted together. Had he ever heard of such a
thing?

"Well," said Mr. Bryant, good-naturedly, "I have heard of melons so
thick in a patch, and so big around, that the sunshine couldn't get to
the ground except at high noon. How is that for a tall story?"

The boys protested that that was only a tale of fancy. Could it be
poss