An Arizonan Hill-side. 171 



of the innumerable hills, as anything akin to a 

 prairie was beyond easy walking-distance. 



I reached Bisbee at noon, July 8, and climbed a 

 high hill early the next morning. 



There is a never-failing charm in turning into 

 new paths ; to have opened to you a new vista ; to 

 enter for the first time the bounds of a new terri- 

 tory. Fatigue is set at defiance. One's old self 

 slinks into the background. We are mentally born 

 again. What though the region was here a des- 

 ert, so long had it been since a refreshing rain had 

 fallen. The oaks were brave of heart and held 

 their leafy crowns aloft, cacti were in bloom, birds 

 sang, butterflies flitted in the brilliant sunshine, 

 and snow-white clouds floated from peak to peak 

 of the distant mountains. At last I was in a wil- 

 derness, with not a familiar object about me, and 

 it was with honest pleasure that I handled rocks, 

 plants, and many a living creature of which I 

 knew not the name. It was sufficient merely to 

 recognize their position in the grand scheme of 

 organic nature. 



For long there had been no rain, and the first 

 impression was that of wonder that so great a 



