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----- {{frankp193.png}} || bred of the desert ||


heat lightning, until all the eastern heavens
showed a shimmering expanse, broken here and
there by black clouds sullenly holding their own,
which flooded the underscudding desert in beautiful
mottled gray-green coloring. Wider and wider
the light spread, up and away on either hand,
moving stealthily across the sky, until the sheen
of it broke over the ridge itself, and then swept
beyond to the west, laying bare a broad expanse
of mesa dotted with gray-green specks that told
of the presence of hundreds of cattle. And now
the sullen clouds took to weaving, swaying under
the pressure of upper-air currents, the specks
below beginning to lift and fall with the motion
of the clouds like bits of wreckage undulate on
the sea. The air-drifts descended, came closer,
fanning the cheeks of the men, rustling through
the leaves which crowned the ridge, and breaking
the heavy silence. The air-currents flicked the
desert with their freight of swift-moving shadows,
causing strange movement among the bits of wreckage -- the
cattle. It was a glorious march, lighting
up the western expanse beneath and revealing
a flat country, unbroken by dune or cleft as far as
the eye could penetrate. So the light moved on,
crowding before it sullen shadows which presently
disappeared.

Johnson broke the stillness. "We'd better move
along down," he said, and shook Pat's reins.

The horses began the long descent. As compared
with the upward climb they made slow
progress. Forced to feel their way, they moved


[[193]]

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