e came running up to camp one day and told her he
had found her rat's nest. The men had been digging on a little hill
preparing to build the foundation of an extra tent. The hill was covered
with rat holes and gopher holes, and Joe lifted up a shovel full of
adobe and underneath was a little cave all carefully lined with warm
clothing. On the soft bed lay mother rat and six tiny little fellows
with eyes just opened. They were peering around with a frightened look
and giving shrill little squeaks of dismay.

[Illustration: _Joshua Trees_ (_Mary and Bepo_)]

[Illustration]

A CHAT WITH MRS. COTTONTAIL

ONE bright Sunday morning Mary wandered away from camp alone. The fact
was she did not know what to do. At home she always attended church with
Father and Mother, but here the nearest church was eighty miles away, a
bit too far for a morning ride, you see. Father did not work Sunday, and
as it was about the only time he had to chat with Mother, Mary was for
the moment forgotten.

She followed along a little trail leading over a small hill east of
camp. Upon arriving at the top she noticed a clump of trees beyond, and
they looked so cool and shady that she trotted down the trail and sat
beneath them.

Now this was a dangerous thing to do, for she could no longer see home,
and there were many trails leading in all directions. A little girl of
six years could hardly be expected to remember the way back.

She was soon rested and decided to start for home. She was getting
hungry, too. A tiny hill rose from the clump of trees in every
direction, which one ought she to choose? She was not a child to be
daunted by a thing like this, so boldly started up the path she thought
led home. She climbed to the top, but no camp was in sight, no tents, no
horses, nothing to indicate the surroundings of those dear people that
she did want dreadfully to see, O! so quickly.

"Oh me, oh my, I guess I'm lost!" she cried with a little break in her
voice. "I hope there are no bears in these hills. Oh, why did I run
away, and where is my mamma?"

She ran back down the hill, throwing herself on the ground under the
trees while the great big tears chased down her rosy cheeks. "Can I help
you, little girl?" said a tiny voice near by, "you are getting your
pretty dress soiled and your hair will be full of sand."

"Oh, I didn't know rabbits could talk," and Mary's eyes grew big and
round with wonder. There before her stood a lit