Toward the end of June I selected a few of my strongest animals, and, leaving one of my Mexicans to take care of the remainder, started out with two.

As luck would have it, a heavy storm drenched our first camp, and afterward the rain seemed almost to pursue me, much to the delight of the Indians I visited, who had been praying and dancing for rain for a long time.

One day I had the imposing spectacle of three thunder-storms coming up from different directions.

The one in the south sent flashes of lightning out of its mass of dark clouds over the clear sky; but after all, not much rain resulted.
There was no difficulty in finding one's way from Guachochic to Norogachic.

At one place I noticed an Indian trail leading up a ridge apparently consisting of volcanic tuff.