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Updated: May 7, 2025
What does this mean?" exclaimed the astonished Will, as he stared first at his chum, and then up past the lofty tops of the forest trees to where those inky thunder-caps were thrusting their ugly noses into sight.
For a week the spectacle was repeated then, at last, as if weary, the storm-wind refused to blow; the thunder-caps no longer piled up against the Peaks; only the haze endured, and the silent, suffocating heat. Day after day dragged by, and without thought or hope Hardy plodded on, felling sahuaros into the cañons, his brain whirling in the fever of the great heat.
New-born clouds, rushing out of the ruck of flying dirt, cast a cold, damp shadow upon the earth and hurried past; white-crested thunder-caps, piling-up above the Four Peaks, swept resolutely down to meet them; and the storm wind, laden with the smell of greasewood and wetted alkali, lashed the gaunt desert bushes mercilessly as it howled across the plain.
More in helplessness than anything else he decided to follow on. "On and on and on," would have described it more adequately. Blacker and blacker the huddling thunder-caps spotted across the brilliant, sunny sky.
She was like a woman stranded, the last survivor, on an inhospitable coast. Turning to look across the valley of the Wenatchee, she saw the blue and glaciered crests of the Chelan mountains, and behind her, over the neck of a loftier height, loomed other white domes. And there yesterday's thunder-caps, bigger and blacker, with fringed edges, drove along the sky line.
At last the days grew shorter, the chill came back into the morning air, and the great thunder-caps which all Summer had mantled the Peaks, scattering precarious and insufficient showers across the parching lowlands, faded away before the fresh breeze from the coast. Autumn had come, and, though the feed was scant, Creede started his round-up early, to finish ahead of the sheep.
Behind them, as Tisdale drove down, the heights they had crossed were still shrouded in thunder-caps, but before them the end of the Wenatchee range lifted clear-cut, in a mighty promontory, from the face of the desert. Already the morning sun gave a promise of heat, and as the bays rounded a knoll, Miss Armitage raised her hands to shade her eyes. "What color!" she exclaimed. "How barbarous!
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