Jessie and Polly wandered on and on and a new fear grew. They could be circling. Or they could be going parallel to the river. Polly did not know how long they had been walking. It was hard to breathe. She was afraid. But she could not stop now. So she kept on walking. Beyond her, beyond the slough, lay the upland prairies, the switchgrass, the Indian grass. The big bluestem.
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