d to make his way through the noisy
band towards the centre of the village; but the boys pushed him back
each time, evidently thinking it great sport to tease an unprotected
little lad.

Jack appealed in English to two Mexican men who were lounging near, but
they seemed to enjoy watching the group of cruel boys tormenting him.
Jack was no coward, although he was so young, and after receiving a
hard push from a bigger boy than himself, he lost his temper, and hit
his opponent a good blow between the eyes.

This was the signal for a general outburst. The Mexicans are a fierce,
passionate race, and the boys retaliated on poor Jack by all setting on
him at once. Jack fought hard, and dealt out many a telling blow; but
they were too many and strong for him, and at last he found himself
being hustled out of the village where he had entered it, while his
tormentors formed a long line to prevent his coming in again. Bleeding
and bruised, Jack felt too worn out and faint from hunger and the fight
to attempt another tussle with the enemy, so, like a wise boy, he
deemed 'discretion the better part of valour,' and skirting the
village, he recommenced his weary trudge along the road leading towards
the mountains.

[Illustration: "JACK FOUGHT HARD, BUT THEY WERE TOO MANY FOR HIM."]

The range loomed up at no great distance in front of him, and the peaks
towered up so high, they seemed to pierce the bright blue sky. But as
the afternoon lengthened, Jack noticed that the sky was assuming a very
threatening aspect. Big clouds came rolling up over the mountains,
making them look almost black in the shadow. Jack went on bravely,
hoping to reach some place of shelter before the storm broke, but it
was getting rapidly darker, and his heart began to sink at the prospect
ahead.

Blacker and blacker it grew around him. Bright flashes of lightning
shot from the murky clouds, followed by loud, crashing thunder, which
shook the ground, and echoed and re-echoed through the rocky canyons.
In a short time Jack was in the midst of a bad specimen of a Rocky
Mountain thunderstorm, and no shelter near him. The poor lad was
terrified, and crouched near the ground, while the lightning played
about him and the thunder roared overhead.

'Oh, dear! oh, dear! I'm so frightened!' cried the little fellow; and
then he remembered his mother's words: 'Ask God to take care of us
until we meet again'--an injunction he had followed every day since she