Excerpt: ...and in a little cut a few rods away we saw the sand drifted over the rails three or four inches deep, precisely like snow. "Well," said Jack, "I guess we're in the Sand Hills at last if we've got where it drifts." "I wonder if they have to have sand-ploughs on their engines?" said Ollie. "I've heard that they frequently have to stop ...Read MoreExcerpt: ...and in a little cut a few rods away we saw the sand drifted over the rails three or four inches deep, precisely like snow. "Well," said Jack, "I guess we're in the Sand Hills at last if we've got where it drifts." "I wonder if they have to have sand-ploughs on their engines?" said Ollie. "I've heard that they frequently have to stop and shovel it off," answered Jack. As we got farther among the sand dunes we found them all sizes and shapes, though usually circular, and from fifteen to forty feet high. Of course the surface of the county was very irregular, and there would be places here and there where the grass had obtained a little footing and the sand had not drifted up. There were also some hills which seemed to be independent of the sand piles. We stopped for noon on a little flat where there was some struggling grass, This flat ran off to the north, and narrowed into a small valley through which in the spring probably a little water flowed. We had finished dinner when we noticed a flock of big birds circling about the little valley, and, on looking closer, saw that some of them were on the ground. "They are sand-hill cranes," said Jack. "I've seen them in Dakota, but this must be their home." They were immense birds, white and gray, and with very long legs. Jack took his rifle and tried to creep up on them, but they were too shy, and soared away to the south. We soon passed the first station on the railroad, called Crookston. The telegraph-operator came out and looked at us, admitted that it was a sandy neighborhood, and went back in. We toiled on without any incident of note during the whole afternoon. Toward night we passed another station, called Georgia, and the man in charge allowed us to fill our kegs from the water-tank. .We went on three or four miles and stopped beside the trail, and a hundred yards from the railroad, for the night. The great drifts of sand were all around us, and no desert could have been lonelier. We had a little...Read Less
New. This item is printed on demand. Perhaps we were pretty big boys-Jack and I. In fact, I'm afraid we were so big that we haven't grown much since. But Ollie was a boy, anyhow; he couldn't have been more than a dozen years old, and we looked upon him as b.
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