Frontier Boys in the Grand Canyon

"All right," I said, and I swung off my horse and filled my canteen as well as Jim's.

In a short time we left the canyon and rode out on the plains.

"It looks to me as if we might have rain to-day," said Jim.

"It would be a pity if we got wet," I laughed, "might spoil our fine clothes and new sombreros. What makes you think it is going to rain?"

"You can generally count on that mackerel sky furnishing a rain," he said.

"It looks pretty anyway," I said.

It certainly did, the blue morning sky being dappled with numberless little clouds that gave a softness to the sunlight without dimming it to a shadow.

"Let's keep near the foot hills," I said, "because the brush and rocks give us some shelter and the antelope will not be so apt to see us."

"It's a good scheme," assented Jim.

So we rode southward through the broken country, crossing ravines, riding through the scrub oaks and keeping a wary eye on