A VARIABLE TEMPERATURE 143 



At length the sun went down — sank in 

 golden ruin among the fang-like peaks of the 

 umber-tinted western mountains. Soon the 

 quivering earth flung off its Nessus-garment 

 and a delicious interval followed. But shortly 

 after nightfall the chilliness of the air be- 

 came so uncomfortable that I overhauled my 

 belongings in the wagon, seeking a warmer 

 coat. Father Simon, with a smile, produced 

 his thermometer; the mercury stood at 86 

 Fahr. I learned that five hours previously it 

 had reached 119 in the shade. 



Next day brought practically no diminution 

 of temperature ; but somehow I seemed to have 

 acquired resisting power. The fear of possible 

 collapse, even of death, which came upon me 

 the previous day, had gone. Perhaps the 

 fatigues of the long journey — more especially 

 the heavy digging in the water pits — may have 

 lowered my vitality. Presently we had another 

 severe ordeal to undergo, for we decided to 

 make our way down the gorge and spend a 

 night on the bank of the river. It seemed as 

 though it would be like descending to the 

 Gehenna-pit. 



But first to bend an examining eye upon that 

 strange community of men and women, — those 

 adventurers from the Old World to a world 



