We were in high spirits as we jogged down the canyon. We were feeling fine and fit. Our constant life out of doors had enured us to hardships and made us impervious to fatigue.
Our muscles were supple and tireless and we were also much better able to endure thirst, cold, and hunger than we had been at first.
In a short time we reached the end of the canyon where grew the pine and cottonwood trees.
"Let's fill our canteens here," advised Jim, "because when we leave the canyon there is no telling when we will strike water again."
"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.