Sometimes the clay would turn brittle under the morning sun, sometimes
his fingers forgot what cunning they had, sometimes black thought fell
upon him and held him till he felt a vague despair. He stood within the
threshold of manhood. Who was he? What was life? Was this life?

About him men married and begat children, goats begat goats, cattle
begat cattle, one day begat another. Lewis sat with hands locked about
his knees and stared across the low hills out into the wide plain. "The
Bible is wrong," he breathed to himself. "The world will never, never
end."

Little do we know when our present world will end. A day came when Dom
Francisco, the cattle king, whose herds by popular account were as the
sands of the desert, asked in marriage the hand of Natalie.

As, toward evening, Lewis headed his flock for home, he saw in the
distance a pillar of dust. It came rapidly to him. From it emerged
Natalie on her pony. She jumped down, slipped the reins over her arm,
and joined him.

"You have come far and fast," he said, glancing at the sweating pony.
"Is anything the matter?"

"No," said Natalie, hesitatingly, and then repeated--"no. I've just come
to talk to you."

For some time they walked in silence behind the great herd of nervous
goats, which occasionally stopped to pasture, but more often scampered
ahead till a call from Lewis checked them. Natalie laid her hand on the
sleeve of Lewis's leather coat, a gesture with which she was wont to