2o6 THE STORY OF A BIRD LOVER 



Watercourses may be traced in Arizona in 

 every direction, but it is seldom that they are 

 characterized in the desert region, or far from the 

 hills, by any visible water. It is true that, at 

 times, the rush of water, where it is seen, perhaps, 

 but once in a lifetime along such a dry wash, may 

 become so violent as to preclude the passage of 

 the stream. Great freight teams, of eighteen or 

 twenty mules, travelling down these natural road- 

 beds, have been obliterated in less time than is 

 required to speak of the catastrophe. But in a 

 short period, at the most a few hours, the 

 torrent has passed, and whatever water seeks this 

 channel of escape flows again beneath the surface, 

 which presents in an infinitely short time the dry, 

 sandy bed indicative of the stream below. 



The general trend of the broken mountain- 

 chains of Southern Arizona is approximately 

 northeast and southwest. The side of these 

 ranges facing the south is usually precipitous; 

 the escarpment rises almost abruptly out of 

 the plain, often as naked walls of rock. The 

 verdure is necessarily scanty. A giant cactus 

 may find lodgment in some crevice of the 

 rock, or a stunted mesquite tree cling in some 

 fissure. The whole aspect of such a mountain, 

 viewed from the south, presents a most for- 

 bidding appearance. It is a skeleton, bare and 

 naked, with not one soft touch of verdure ; the 



