DUST was piled in thick, velvety folds on the weeds and grass of
the open Kansas prairie; it lay, a thin veil on the scrawny black
horses and the sharp-boned cow picketed near a covered wagon; it
showered to the ground in little clouds as Mrs. Wade, a tall, spare
woman, moved about a camp-fire, preparing supper in a sizzling
skillet, huge iron kettle and blackened coffee-pot. Her husband,
pale and gaunt, the shadow of death in his weary face and the droop
of his body, sat leaning against one of the wagon wheels trying to
quiet a wailing, emaciated year-old baby while little tow-headed
Nellie, a vigorous child of seven, frolicked undaunted by the
August heat.
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