ills too deep for cuts. The
country grew too rough for wagons as it neared the foot hills of the San
Bernardinos, and here the road turned into the bed of the canal. There
were occasional stretches where the bed was sandy; these were cemented
to prevent loss of water by seepage. On the sides of deep gulches, the
canal was cut in the steep banks, walled above and below to hold the
stream in place. The work was inspiriting, exhilarating. It was the
conquest of Nature, or was it the higher Nature asserting itself,
selecting and assimilating that which had hitherto been uncalled into
active existence? Perhaps no one of the party asked himself the
question, yet each felt that it was a great work, a great idea, a daring
one.

At the mouth of the canyon, the canal ended. Across the canyon was built a
deflecting dam of solid masonry. Where the canal led into the dam,
massive gates were placed by means of which the water from the great
reservoir in the mountains could be turned into the canal or cut off
from it at will. Apparently there was not a contingency but had been
foreseen and provided for.

On a level spot of ground near the gates, a messenger from Winston
awaited the party to say that he was unavoidably detained, but that he
would expect them the following day. Tents and food were waiting, and
the night was pleasantly spent. Only the master of it all was absent.

Early in the morning the camp was astir and breakfast disposed of,
horses were saddled and the party under way. Winston was better than his
word, for he met them part way down the trail. His welcome was an
ovation. Men and women crowded around, each eager to take his hand and
pour congratulations into his reluctant ears.

"I accept, by proxy, for the real man," was his reply.

Uncle Sid awaited his turn. His loyal old heart was bursting with pride
over all he had seen. There was a suspicious brightness in the old man's
eyes as, with Winston's hand clasped in both his own, he looked into his
eyes.

"Ralph, my boy," he said, "I have no child of my own, but if I had, an'
he'd done what you have, I'd want my heart steel-hooped to keep it from
burstin'."

Winston's grip tightened on the knotty fingers.

"Thank you, Uncle Sid." Then withdrawing his hand, he slipped it through
the old man's arm.

Uncle Sid stopped abruptly and thrust the hand aside, giving Winston an
initial push.

"Now you go along where you're wanted. These folks are just burstin'
full