“Don’t forget your lasso. The rattlers are tolerable plenty about here.” Ned knew that, for he had seen two or three of them killed in the camp. George had told him that the neighborhood of a fire was a bad place for rattlesnakes, and Ned could hardly bring himself to believe that his hair lasso, laid down in a coil about the place where he made his bed, was a sure protection against these dangerous visitors. A few days before he went home, Ned had an experience such as he had never had before, and which he fervently hoped would never be repeated. On this particular day he went out with George, whose turn it was to watch the cattle. He soon grew tired of talking to him, so he mounted his horse and set out in search of antelopes, which, so his cousin told him, were often seen in that neighborhood. He rode slowly in a circle around the place where the cattle were feeding, at distances varying from a half to three-quarters of a mile from them (there was small chance of finding an antelope so close to the herd, but Ned dared not go any farther away for fear of the Apaches, concerning whom he had heard some dreadful stories told by Zeke the night before), and he had been gone about an hour when he was suddenly startled by hearing the faint report of a rifle. Turning his eyes quickly in the direction from which the report sounded, he saw his cousin sitting in his saddle, and waving his hat frantically in the air. When he found that the sound of his rifle had attracted Ned’s attention, he beckoned him to approach. “What’s up, I wonder?” thought Ned, not a little alarmed. “George must have shot at something, for I saw the smoke curling above his head. Are the Mexicans or Apaches about to make a raid on us?” Ned, who had drawn rein on the summit of a high swell, looked all around but could see no signs of any horsemen. He did see something to increase his alarm, however. He saw that the cattle, which were quietly grazing the last time he looked toward them, were now all in motion, and that they were hurrying toward the belt of post-oaks in which the camp was located. That was enough for Ned. He put his horse into a gallop and hastened to join his cousin, who now and then beckoned to him with both hands as if urging him to ride faster. “What’s the matter?” shouted Ned, as soon as he arrived within speaking distance of George. “Raiders?” “O no! We’re going to have a norther, and if there should happen to be rain with it we don’t want it to catch us out here on the prairie.” “Is that all?” exclaimed Ned, somewhat impatiently. “That’s a pretty excuse for frightening a fellow half to death, isn’t it? I thought something was going to happen.” “Something is going to happen!” replied George. “You seem to have grown very much afraid of the rain lately,” continued Ned. “It was only a day or two ago that you stood out in a hard shower, and never seemed to care for it.” “Yes; but if we have rain now, it will be a different sort, as you will find.”