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----- {{frankp191.png}} || bred of the desert ||


deadening the coals of the camp-fire, and the little
man making up the saddle-bags. This told
him that the journey was to be resumed, and he
stood quiet and peaceful as he was being bridled
and saddled, and afterward he trotted along under
the guidance of his master without show of anger
or rebellion. Indeed, though the sun was hot, and
the unmarked trail tedious, and the weight on his
back heavier than ever, he felt less fretful and
more contented than at any time since leaving
the little ranch beside the river -- possibly because
of the thrill of his double encounter.

Ahead and on either hand the desert soon began
to break and lift. As they went on the dunes
grew to be hills and heights, growing, looming,
closing in upon them. Now and again a clump
of trees or a shoulder of rock or a stretch of foliage
stepped out in relief against the brown of the
landscape, revealing more than once ideal grazing-land.
Also, as they penetrated deeper into this
broken country, the sky overhead showed change.
From a spotless blue it revealed tiny splotches of
gray-white cloud scudding before upper currents.
With the passing hours these clouds became heavy,
sullen, and threatening, until the sun, dipping into
the west, sinking in a kind of hazy moisture, left
the heavens completely overcast, cold and bleak
and forbidding -- a dense mass of cloud -- banks
down to the tip of ridge and range. And now came
dusk, short and chill, and with it the slow ascent of
a long grade, leading them up to a ridge, low and
ragged, trailing away interminably to north and


[[191]]

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