Across the broken ridges passed the teeming bird life of the land.

The Eskimo plover in vast bands circled and sought their nesting places.

Came also the sweep of cinnamon wings as the giant sickle-billed curlews wheeled in vast aerial phalanx, with their eager cries, "Curlee! Curlee! Curlee!"-- the wildest cry of the old prairies.

Again, from some unknown, undiscoverable place, came the liquid, baffling, mysterious note of the nesting upland plover, sweet and clean as pure white honey.
Now and again a band of antelope swept ghostlike across a ridge.

A great gray wolf stood contemptuously near on a hillock, gazing speculatively at the strange new creature, the white woman, new come in his lands.