Our jaded horses felt with us the exhilaration of the change, and moved with greater sprightliness than they had shown for days.

As the sun began its circle downward, vast rolling hills of white and yellow sand arose upon the right of our line of march,--huge mounds, many of them, glistening in the sunshine, some jagged at the summit, others rounded as if by art, so unusual in form and presence that I ventured to address our leader regarding them, as he rode with his head bent low and a far-off look in his eyes.
"The sand ?" he questioned, glancing up as if startled at the sound of my voice.

"Why, it has been cast there by the stormy waves of the Great Lake, my lad, and beaten into those strange and fantastic shapes by the action of the wind.

Doubtless 'tis the work of centuries of storms." "Are we, then, so close to the lake ?" I asked eagerly,--for I had never yet seen so large a body of water, and his description fired my imagination.
"'T is but just beyond those dunes yonder, and will be still nearer when we come to camp.

Possibly you might reach the shore before dark if you exercise care,--for there is danger of becoming lost in that sand desert.