Snoozer was the last thing we shipped, and after taking him aboard we were soon out of the harbor of Prairie Flower, and bearing away across the plain to the southwest.  In twenty minutes we ware among the billowing sunflowers, standing five or six feet high on other side of the road, which seemed like a narrow crack winding through them.  Ollie reached out and gathered a handful of the drooping yellow blossoms.  The pony was tied behind carrying her big saddle, and tossing her head about, and showing that she was very suspicious of the whole proceedings, and especially of a small flag which Ollie had fastened to the top of the wagon-cover, which fluttered in the fresh morning breeze.  Snoozer slept on and never stirred.  At last the road came to the river, and then followed close along beside its bank, which was only a foot or so high.  Ollie was interested in watching the long grass which grew in the bottom of the stream and was brushed all in one direction by the sluggish current, like the silky fur of some animal.  After a while we came to a gravelly place which was a ford, and crossed the stream, stopping to let the horses drink.  The water was only a foot deep.  As we came up on the higher ground beyond the river we met the south wind squarely, and it came in at the front of the cover with a rush.  We heard a sharp flutter behind, and then the wagon gave a shiver and a lurch, and the horses stopped; then there was another shock and lurch, and it rolled back a few inches.

“There,” exclaimed Jack, “some of those wheels have begun to turn backward!  I told you!”

I looked back.  Our puckering-string had given way, and the rear of the cover had blown out loosely.  This had been more than the pony could stand, and she had broken her rope and run back a dozen rods, where she stood snorting and looking at the wagon.

“First accident!” I cried.  “She’ll run home, and we’ll have to go back after her.”

“Perhaps we can get around her,” said Jack.  “We’ll try.”

We left Ollie to hold the horses, and I went out around among the sunflowers, while Jack stood behind the wagon with his hat half full of oats.  I got beyond her at last, and drove her slowly toward the wagon.  She snorted and stamped the ground angrily with her forward feet; but at last she ventured to taste of the oats, and finding more in the feed-box on the rear of the wagon, she began eating them and forgot her fright.

“I guess we’d better not tie her, but let her follow,” said Jack.  “As soon as we have gone a little ways she’ll come to think the wagon is home, and stick to it.”

“Yes,” I said.  “I think she is really as great a tramp as Snoozer, and just the pony for us.”  “Are we all tramps?” asked Ollie.

“Well,” said Jack, “I’m afraid Grandpa Oldberry thinks we don’t lack much of it.  He says varmints will catch us.”

“Do you think they will?” went on Ollie, just a little bit anxiously.