"I've not the gift of revelation, yet I seem to see you on a big gray
horse with a shining mane." Naab appeared to be gazing far away.
The cottonwood grove, at the western curve of the oasis, shaded the five
log huts where August's grown sons lived with their wives, and his own
cabin, which was of considerable dimensions. It had a covered porch on
one side, an open one on the other, a shingle roof, and was a roomy and
comfortable habitation.
Naab was pointing out the school-house when he was interrupted by
childish laughter, shrieks of glee, and the rush of little feet.
"It's recess-time," he said.
A frantic crowd of tousled-headed little ones were running from the log
school-house to form a circle under the trees. There were fourteen of
them, from four years of age up to ten or twelve. Such sturdy, glad-eyed
children Hare had never seen. In a few moments, as though their happy
screams were signals, the shady circle was filled with hounds, and a
string of puppies stepping on their long ears, and ruffling
turkey-gobblers, that gobbled and gobbled, and guinea-hens with their
shrill cries, and cackling chickens, and a lame wild goose that hobbled
along alone.
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