t looks exactly like a watermelon, these
"high fogs" were the best imitation of a real thing I have ever seen.
They came up like rain clouds, they looked precisely like rain clouds,
they went through all the performances of rain clouds--except that
never, never did they rain!

But the day of the Vigilante execution the sky little by little turned
shimmering gray; so that the sun shining from it looked like silver; and
the shadows of objects were diffused and pale. A tepid wind blew gently
but steadily from the southeast. No clouds were visible at first; but
imperceptibly, around the peaks, filmy veils formed seemingly out of the
gray substance of the very sky itself. How these thickened and spread I
did not see; but when I came out of the Bella Union, after a long and
interesting evening of discussion, I found no stars; and, as I stood
looking upward, a large warm drop splashed against my face.

Sometime during the night it began to rain in earnest. We were awakened
by its steady drumming on the canvas of our tent.

"My Lord! but she sure is _raining_!" said Johnny across the roar
of sound.

"Don't tech the canvas!" warned Old. "If you do, she'll leak like a
spout where you teched her!"

"Thank heaven, that high fog scared us into ditching around the tent,"
said Cal fervently.

But our satisfaction was short-lived. We had ditched the tent, to be
sure, but we had badly underestimated the volume of a California
downpour.

Before many minutes had passed Johnny gave a disgusted snort.

"I'm lying in a marsh!" he cried.

He struck a light, and we all saw the water trickling in a dozen little
streams beneath the edge of the tent.

"We're going to be ruined!" cried Johnny comically.

He arose, and in doing so brushed his head violently against the
slanting canvas roof. Almost immediately thereafter the rays of the
lantern were reflected from tiny beads of water, like a sweat, appearing
as though by magic at that spot. They swelled, gathered, hesitated, then
began to feel their way slowly down the dry canvas. The trickle became a
stream. A large drop fell straight down. Another followed.

"Anybody need a drink?" inquired Cal.

"I'm sorry!" said Johnny contritely.

"You needn't be," I consoled him. "The whole thing is going to leak, if
this keeps up."

"What's the matter with going over to the Morena cabin?" queried Yank.

We hesitated a little. The events of the day had affected us all more
deeply than we l