ACROSS THE DESERT 101 



out food. What John said to them was never 

 recorded, but there is no doubt that he relieved 

 his pent-up feelings in the picturesque style of 

 an irritated frontiersman. 



In the days when emigration here was at its 

 height, "rustling" was not uncommon. In fact, 

 even now we were duly warned at Winslow to 

 be on our guard against it. These rustlers were 

 not Indians, but white renegades who made 

 horse stealing a business in the desert country. 



Beyond Black Falls the country is arid and 

 desolate in the extreme. We found the trail 

 buried under great drifts of sand, which for 

 long distances covered even greasewood and 

 sage. This condition makes traveling hard for 

 horse and tedious for rider. Almost invariably 

 an afternoon wind rises to drive the sand 

 against one's face with the sensation of pin- 

 pricks, and to fill one's eyes, but dies away with 

 the setting sun, as balmy evening displaces the 

 scorching day and cool and exhilarating night 

 settles down with its calm and deathlike quiet. 



A day's march beyond the Black Falls we 

 halted near midday to permit our horses to 

 browse on bunch grass, and while thus engaged 

 a large herd of Navajo goats and sheep on their 

 way to the river and water were driven over a 

 knoll by a young Indian woman and boy. Af- 



