We had come to a strange country, and there was no road in sight.

A wooded hill lay back of us, and, just before, ran a noisy little brook, winding between smooth banks, through a long pasture into a dense wood.

Behind a wall on the opposite shore a great field of rustling corn filled a broad valley and stood higher than a man's head.
While I went to wash my face in the clear water Uncle Eb was husking some ears of corn that he took out of his pocket, and had them roasting over the fire in a moment.

We ate heartily, giving Fred two big slices of bread and butter, packing up with enough remaining for another day.
Breakfast over we doused the fire and Uncle Eb put on his basket He made after a squirrel, presently, with old Fred, and brought him down out of a tree by hurling stones at him and then the faithful follower of our camp got a bit of meat for his breakfast.

We climbed the wall, as he ate, and buried ourselves in the deep corn.