Wunpost knew what was happening, for he had seen it once before, and as he watched the rain 165descend he imagined the spot where it fell and the wreck which would follow its flood. For the Panamints are set on edge and shed rain like a roof, the water all flowing off at once; and when they strike a canyon, after rushing down the converging gulches, there is nothing that can withstand their violence. Every canyon in the range, and in the Funeral Range beyond, and in Tin Mountain and the Grapevines to the north–every one of them had been swept by the floods from the heights and ripped out as clean as a sand-wash. And this waterspout, which had turned into a mighty cloudburst, would sweep one of them clean again. The question was–which one?
A breeze, rising suddenly, came up from the Sink and was sucked into the vortex above; the black line of the downfall turned lead-color and broadened out until it merged into the clouds above; and at last, as Wunpost lingered, the storm disappeared and the canyon took on the hush of heavy waiting. The sun blazed out as before, the fig-leaves hung down wilted; but the humidity was gone and the dry, oven-heat almost created the illusion of coolness.
“Well, I’m going,” announced Wunpost, for the third or fourth time. “She must have come down away north.”
“No–wait!” protested Billy, “why are you always in such a hurry? And perhaps the flood hasn’t come yet.”
“It’d be here,” he answered, “been an hour, by my watch; and believe me, that old boy would be coming 166some. Excuse me, if it should hit into one end of a box canyon while I was coming up the other. My friends could omit the flowers.”
“Well, why not stay, then?” she pouted anxiously; “you know Mother didn’t mean anything. And perhaps Father will be down, to see if there was any damage done, and we could catch him first and explain.”
“No explaining for me!” returned Wunpost, beginning to pack; “you can tell them whatever you want. And if your folks are too religious to use my old road maybe the Lord will send a cloudburst and destroy it. That’s the way He always did in them old Bible stories─”
“You oughten to talk that way!” warned Wilhelmina soberly, “and besides, that’s what made Mother angry. She isn’t feeling well, and when you spoke slightingly of Divine Providence─”
“Well, I’m going,” he said again, “before I begin to quarrel with you. But, oh say, I want to get that dog.”
“Oh, it’s too hot!” she protested, “let him stay under the house. He and Red are sleeping there together.”