"Then I don't want ever to see 'em or what's left uv 'em. People who built cities whar no water an' trees wuz ought to hev seen 'em perish. Wouldn't me an' Sol look fine trailin' 'roun' among them ruins an' over them deserts? Not a buff'ler, nor a deer, not a b'ar anywhar, an' not a fish; 'cause they ain't even a good big dew fur a fish to swim in. "But leavin' out them old places that's plum' rusted away, an' comin' back to this here favored land o' ours, I want, after seein' everythin' thar is to be seen in the great city of New Or-lee-yuns, to go straight west with you fellers, an' Shif'less Sol that's outside, clean across the great buff'ler plains that we've talked about afore." "Cross 'em!" said Silent Tom, speaking for the first time. "You can't cross 'em. They go on forever." "No, they don't. Once I come across a French trapper who had been clean to the edge uv 'em, tradin' with the Injuns fur furs. I don't know how many weeks an' months it took him, but cross 'em he did, an' what do you think he found on the other side, Tom Ross?" "The sea." "Nary a sea. He found mountains, mountains sech ez we ain't got this side the Missip, mountains that go right up to the top uv the sky, cuttin' through clouds on the way, mountains that are covered always with snow, even in the summer, an' not a half-dozen or a dozen mountains, but hundreds uv 'em, ridges an' ranges runnin' fur hundreds an' thousands uv miles." "An' beyond that?" asked Silent Tom. "Nobody knows. But think what a trip it would be fur us five! Why it raises the sperrit uv romance mighty high in me. Paul hez often told us how them old Crusaders from France an' England an' Germany an' all them Old World countries started off, wearin' their iron clothes even on the hottest days, to rescue the Holy places from the infidel. I guess the sperrit uv adventure helped a heap in takin' 'em, but thar travels wouldn't be any greater, an' grander than ourn across all them great plains an' into them almighty high mountains beyond. You couldn't even guess what we'd find." Long Jim drew a deep breath, as his spirit leaped before him into the vast unknown spaces, and Paul's eyes sparkled. The seed that Jim was sowing fell upon fertile ground. "I believe I'd rather travel in the unknown than the known," the boy said. "We'd come to rivers, big ones and lots of 'em, too, that no white man had ever seen before, and, when at last we reached the mountains, we'd explore in there for months and months, a year, two years may be. And we'd name the highest five peaks for ourselves." "An' I'd want a river named after me, too, Paul, an' I don't want it to be any little second rate river, either. I want it to be long an' broad an' deep an' full uv mighty clear water, an' when after a while, fur hunters come along in thar canoes, I'd say to 'em, 'Dip down! Dip down with your paddles an' don't be afeard. This is the Long Jim Hart river, an' me bein' Jim Hart, the owner, I give you leave.'"