When supper was done and the cabin, now lighted by the scanty rays of two tallow candles, had been made tidy for the night, Oscar took out his violin, and, after much needed tuning, struck into the measure of wild, warbling "Dundee." All hands took the hint, and all voices were raised once more to the words of Whittier's song of the "Kansas Emigrants." Perhaps it was with new spirit and new tenderness that they sang,-- "No pause, nor rest, save where the streams That feed the Kansas run, Save where the pilgrim gonfalon Shall flout the setting sun!" "I don't know what the pilgrim's gonfalon is," said Sandy, sleepily, "but I guess it's all right." The emigrants had crossed the prairies as of old their father had crossed the sea. They were now at home in the New West. The night fell dark and still about their lonely cabin as, with hope and trust, they laid them down to peaceful dreams. CHAPTER IX. SETTING THE STAKES. "We mustn't let any grass grow under our feet, boys," was Mr. Aleck Howell's energetic remark, next morning, when the little party had finished their first breakfast in their new home. "That means work, I s'pose," replied Oscar, turning a longing glance to his violin hanging on the side of the cabin, with a broken string crying for repairs. "Yes, and hard work, too," said his father, noting the lad's look. "Luckily for us, Brother Aleck," he continued, "our boys are not afraid of work. They have been brought up to it, and although I am thinking they don't know much about the sort of work that we shall have to put in on these beautiful prairies, I guess they will buckle down to it. Eh?" and the loving father turned his look from the grassy and rolling plain to his son's face. Sandy answered for him. "Oh, yes, Uncle Charlie, we all like work! Afraid of work? Why, Oscar and I are so used to it that we would be willing to lie right down by the side of it, and sleep as securely as if it were as harmless as a kitten! Afraid of work? Never you fear 'the Dixon boys who fear no noise'--what's the rest of that song?" Nobody knew, and, in the laugh that followed, Mr. Howell suggested that as Younkins was coming over the river to show them the stakes of their new claims, the boys might better set an extra plate at dinner-time. It was very good of Younkins to take so much trouble on their account, and the least they could do was to show him proper hospitality. "What is all this about stakes and quarter-sections, anyway, father?" asked Sandy. "I'm sure I don't know." "He doesn't know what quarter-sections are!" shouted Charlie. "Oh, my! what an ignoramus!" "Well, what is a quarter-section, as you are so knowing?" demanded Sandy. "I don't believe you know yourself."