The month of June had arrived, and with it came the intensified summer heat, now almost unbearable in the shadeless glare, and as the time approached for Gully's departure, it was finally decided that the wheat fields of the north would be the easiest of access for his journey in search of work. The question of water for domestic use being the most difficult to solve, it was decided to build a cistern sufficiently large to hold enough to last until his return, and for the next few weeks the time was devoted to this work. It was while thus engaged that the family received its first ray of hopes for the ultimate consummation of their dream, and the hope to which their minds would frequently revert during the long fall and winter months that were to follow. After the cistern had been dug and Gully, with painstaking care, was trying to cement the interior, patiently replacing each trovel of wet cement as it rolled from the sides, as the sand gave way and allowing it to fall repeatedly to the bottom, each time being taken up and carefully replaced, gradually setting, inch by inch, until the task was accomplished; his wife on the surface, mixing the sand and cement in small quantities and handing it down to him, as required; doing her part to conquer the wilderness as valiantly as any man; when there was a hurried scampering of little feet, and the children came breathlessly up, calling to their parent that "Wagons were coming, lots of them." This announcement to the uninitiated would seem but small cause for comment, but to those who live for weeks and months without the advent of a stranger within miles of their habitation, the approach of an unknown horseman or vehicle is hailed with excitement and wonder.