THE LAND OF LITTLE RAIN 



downpours called cloud-bursts for violence. 

 A land of lost rivers, with little in it to love ; 

 yet a land that once visited must be come 

 back to inevitably. If it were not so there 

 would be little told of it. 



This is the country of three seasons. 

 From June on to November it lies hot, 

 still, and unbearable, sick with violent 

 unrelieving storms ; then on until April, 

 chill, quiescent, drinking its scant rain and 

 scanter snows ; from April to the hot season 

 again, blossoming, radiant, and seductive. 

 These months are only approximate ; later 

 or earlier the rain-laden wind may drift up 

 the water gate of the Colorado from the 

 Gulf, and the land sets its seasons by the 

 rain. 



The desert floras shame us with their 

 cheerful adaptations to the seasonal limita- 

 tions. Their whole duty is to flower and 

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