"When I thought he had sufficiently rested, and I had eaten a small piece of the meat, I mounted him again and started on a lope northward. I kept the little gallop, changing into a brisk walk once in a while, until I could see by the daylight the long silvery line of the Arkansas, looking like a white snake in its many windings. Then I felt pretty safe, after I had stopped and watched the trail back as far as I could, which was for more than two miles. I could see nothing like dust, nor hear a sound, so I began to hope that I had really escaped, and my heart began to feel lighter than it had for many a long month. "I crossed the Arkansas, which the Indians call 'Mit-sun,' meaning Big, and it was up to my pony's breast, but he struggled through splendidly, though I got my moccasins wet, for the water came to my knees. I did not mind that, as I had often got wet through in the Canadian where we used to go swimming almost every morning while at the village. The squaws are very fond of the water in that way, but are not so clean with their hands as I would many a time have liked them to be. "On the other side of the divide separating the Arkansas from the Smoky Hill, I halted in a box-elder grove to rest my roan, and rest myself, for I was nearly worn out. I felt very safe then, for I knew that I was approaching the settlements on Plum Creek, and if I had known, what Joe has just told us, that the war was over, I might have been at my ease all the way from the Arkansas. "Early this morning I came to Bluff Creek, at the very spot where I had crossed with the Indians, and how my heart fluttered when I knew I was so near dear Errolstrath! From that creek I rode slowly, as I knew I had nothing to fear from the Indians, for the settlements were too thick, and besides it was daytime, when the Indians rarely attack. "I often got off my pony when it grew too dark to see, to feel the leaves of the compass-plant, that I could always find without much hunting on every hill. Now, mamma and father, don't you think that I have made a famous ride?" "We all think so," said her father; "it is one of the most remarkable on record, and we rejoice more than even you can imagine, to have our dear daughter back again, well as ever, after such an experience." "Why don't the Indians raise corn?" inquired Rob, in a general way; "it is so easily grown out here on the plains." "Some of the tribes do," replied Mr. Tucker. "The Sioux and the Mandans have always had their corn-fields, but as usual the women have to do all the work. Do you know, Rob, that the corn is a native plant of North and South America, yet it has never been found wild?" "Do tell us about it," said Mrs. Thompson; and Kate asked if there were not some legend connected with it, "for there is not a thing that they eat, without its wonderful story."