nts that never stayed or slackened. The cracked dirt of the
_ramada_ roof dissolved and fell away, and the stick frame leaked like
a sieve. The rain wind, howling and rumbling through the framework,
hurled the water to the very door where Hardy stood, and as it touched
his face, a wild, animal exultation overcame him and he dashed out
into the midst of it. God, it was good to feel the splash of rain
again, to lean against the wind, and to smell the wet and mud! He
wandered about through it recklessly, now bringing in his saddle and
bedding, now going out to talk with his horse, at last simply standing
with his hands outstretched while his whole being gloried in the
storm.

As the night wore on and the swash of water became constant, Hardy lay
in his blankets listening to the infinite harmonies that lurk in the
echoes of rain, listening and laughing when, out of the rumble of the
storm, there rose the deeper thunder of running waters. Already the
rocky slides were shedding the downpour; the draws and gulches were
leading it into the creek. But above their gurgling murmur there came
a hoarser roar that shook the ground, reverberating through the damp
air like the diapason of some mighty storm-piece. At daybreak he
hurried up the canyon to find its source, plunging along through the
rain until, on the edge of the bluff that looked out up the Alamo, he
halted, astounded at the spectacle. From its cleft gate Hidden Water,
once so quiet and peaceful, was now vomiting forth mud, rocks, and
foaming waters in one mad torrent; it overleapt the creek, piling up
its debris in a solid dam that stretched from bank to bank, while from
its lower side a great sluiceway of yellow water spilled down into the
broad bed of the Alamo.

Above the dam, where the canyon boxed in between perpendicular walls,
there lay a great lagoon, a lake that rose minute by minute as if
seeking to override its dam, yet held back by the torrent of sand and
water that Hidden Water threw across its path. For an hour they fought
each other, the Alamo striving vainly to claim its ancient bed, Hidden
Water piling higher its hurtling barrier; then a louder roar
reverberated through the valley and a great wall of dancing water
swept down the canyon and surged into the placid lake. On its breast it
bore brush and sticks, and trees that waved their trunks in the air
like the arms of some devouring monster as they swooped down upon the
dam. At last the belated waters