in the schooner’s yawl, landing on a sandy beach.  We left our chest of clothes and other things in a warehouse and shouldered our packs and guns for a march across what seemed an endless prairie stretching to the west.  We had spent all our lives thus far in a country where all the clearing had to be made with an axe, and such a broad field was to us an entirely new feature.  We laid our course westward and tramped on.  The houses were very far apart, and we tried at every one of them for a chance to work, but could get none, not even if we would work for our board.  The people all seemed to be new settlers, and very poor, compelled to do their own work until a better day could be reached.  The coarse meals we got were very reasonable, generally only ten cents, but sometimes a little more.

As we travelled westward the prairies seemed smaller with now and then some oak openings between.  Some of the farms seemed to be three or four years old, and what had been laid out as towns consisted of from three to six houses, small and cheap, with plenty of vacant lots.  The soil looked rich, as though it might be very productive.  We passed several small lakes that had nice fish in them, and plenty of ducks on the surface.

Walking began to get pretty tiresome.  Great blisters would come on our feet, and, tender as they were, it was a great relief to take off our boots and go barefoot for a while when the ground was favorable.  We crossed a wide prairie and came down to the Rock river where there were a few houses on the east side but no signs of habitation on the west bank.  We crossed the river in a canoe and then walked seven miles before we came to a house where we staid all night and inquired for work.  None was to be had and so we tramped on again.  The next day we met a real live Yankee with a one-horse wagon, peddling tin ware in regular Eastern style, We inquired of him about the road and prospects, and he gave us an encouraging idea—­said all was good.  He told us where to stop the next night at a small town called Sugar Creek.  It had but a few houses and was being built up as a mining town, for some lead ore had been found there.  There were as many Irish as English miners here, a rough class of people.  We put up at the house where we had been directed, a low log cabin, rough and dirty, kept by Bridget & Co.  Supper was had after dark and the light on the table was just the right one for the place, a saucer of grease, with a rag in it lighted and burning at the edge of the saucer.  It at least served to made the darkness apparent and to prevent the dirt being visible.  We had potatoes, beans and tea, and probably dirt too, if we could have seen it.  When the meal was nearly done Bridget brought in and deposited on each plate a good thick pancake as a dessert.  It smelled pretty good, but when I drew my knife across it to cut it in two, all the center was uncooked batter, which ran out upon my plate, and spoiled my supper.