One afternoon Pedro called Jack out to look at the mountains. The sun was just setting, and its rays were spreading along the edge of the peaks, making it look as if the whole outline of the range had been marked out with a broad, blood-red ribbon.

'Look at that, Jack!' exclaimed the Mexican. 'Ain't that a grand sight? D'ye know what the old pioneers called them mountains?'

'I've heard, but I've forgot somehow. It's a grand long name as I can't remember,' returned Jack.

'Well, I guess ye'll bear it in mind after to-day, for they called it Sangre de Christo, which in English means "Blood of Christ"; and folks say they gave the Range that name because the first explorers saw the mountains with that blood-red streak running along the top.'

'I shan't forget it now, I'm sure,' said Jack, gazing admiringly at the gorgeous scene before them. 'Sangre de Christo, Blood of Christ,' he repeated slowly. 'I like that name for it.'

'Aye,' returned Pedro, 'the old Spanish explorers gave nicer names to places than the new settlers have done later. Which d'ye think is prettiest, names like Huerfano (Orphan), Buena Vista (Good View), Rosita (Little Rose), and Rio Dolores (River of Sorrow); or Smith's Park, Taylor's Creek, Gibson's Peak, and Georgetown, and such-like? Mr. Stuart was talking to me once about it, and he said it struck him as his own countrymen were mostly like them folk mentioned in the Bible as called their lands after their own names.'

'I like the old names best, for it seems as if they had some meanin' in 'em,' said Jack. 'I never saw anythin' like them mountains at Longview, and I'm glad to think our new home is somewhere near 'em.'

They stood watching until the glorious colour had quite faded out of the sky, and then turned into the tent, sorry to see the last of it.

The next morning Jack was tidying out the tent, when he saw Pedro and Señor hurrying towards him.

'Here's the boss himself!' cried Pedro, in a state of excitement. 'He's coming across the prairie in the spring waggon. Let's make up a good fire, as he'll be terrible cold after his long drive.'