Rain falls very seldom here, Nic; but when it does come there's no nonsense about it.

There's a river on ahead which we shall have to cross." "Then you have bridges," said Nic naively, "if you have no regular roads ?" "Bridges?
No; we shall have to ford it if we were going across to-day, it would be a few inches deep; if one of our big rain storms comes, it might be forty or fifty feet.

I have seen it sixty." Nic glanced at his father.
"Simple truth, my boy," he said.

"The river is in a deep trough between two ranges of hills; and if there have been rains we might be detained on the bank for days or weeks." "And whereabouts does home lie ?" asked Nic.
"Yonder," said his father, pointing toward the north-east.

"The air is wonderfully clear now, and perhaps you can see what I do--that faint blue ridge that looks like a layer of cloud low down on the horizon." "Yes, I can see it," said Nic eagerly; "but surely it won't take us a week to ride there.