72 OBSERVATIONS OF A RANCHWOMAN 



village in a bower of greenery. In the 

 foreground was this patch of ruddy wheat, 

 bending figures of Mexicans, a man in blue 

 overalls and jumper erect against a har- 

 monious sky. Once more, from the artist's 

 point of view, the effect was perfect. But 

 the eye of the rancher looks deeper. With 

 that eye we noted the scanty crop in a fertile 

 land its scantiness in part the result of a 

 long drought and the river's treachery. 

 Fickle river indeed, which every third year 

 or so fails in the hour of need, leaving only 

 its bed, over which a man may walk dryshod 

 ere June is old, or rising may engulf and 

 drown him before he has time to cry Peccavi ! 

 Or it may wash away part of a neighbouring 

 city and miles of railroad, and leave hundreds 

 of persons homeless, and ourselves cut off for 

 two or three weeks from communication with 

 the world beyond. Manifestly, therefore, 

 our river is not to be depended upon. And 

 though some day it may do its worst without 

 resulting damage to homes or crops, the 

 Mexican's pitiful if picturesque mode of 

 transacting his business will in all probability 

 endure, with certain modifications, just so 



