The morning dawned damp and dreary; rain had fallen steadily all night long, and still continues. Neither The Chaperon nor anyone else had an opportunity for seeing "the golden exhalations of dawn" this morning. To-day's "exhalations" were chiefly those of moisture, and the only gold we saw was supplied by the light of the paraffin lamps which The Chaperon, always on the look out to anticipate our wishes, provided for us to see our way to wash. The water for ablutions was obtained from the mud-hole which did duty for a well at the ranch, and its appearance was somewhat disconcerting. However, with skill, one could scoop up a little of the surface of the water for a splash without disturbing the thick stratum of mud at the bottom of the basin; things might have been worse, and everyone felt that on such a damp day washing at all was merely an æsthetic waste of energy. By the time dressing was accomplished it was sufficiently light for the lamps to be dispensed with, and we assembled for breakfast in a dull-grey atmosphere. Hot tea, even though half mud, was very good. We believe that the leaf of a certain cactus has the power of clearing water absolutely; if it is dropped in a vessel of water, it and the mud settle at the bottom, leaving the water quite clear; but though several varieties of cacti were tried this morning, none were successful; apparently the special kind did not grow around our camp. [Illustration: _Water Knee-deep._] No one seemed much disheartened by the rain; even the peons, though already wet through in their scanty garments, were cheerfully smiling as usual, with no thought of grumbling. Monte, too, was calmly ready to accompany us, despite the bad weather. Owing either to the skilful manner of tucking in the nets adopted last night, or to the neighbourhood of the sheepfold, mosquitoes had not troubled us nearly so much as on the previous night; only the continual flashes of lightning and the soft rumblings of thunder during the steady downpour had been able to disturb our deep slumbers.