The Arizona Desert 



The Mormons, prone, dark, blanketed figures, lay 

 on the sand. Jones was crawling into his bed. I 

 walked a little way from the dying fire, and faced 

 the north, where the desert stretched, mysterious and 

 illimitable. How solemn and still it was ! I drew in 

 a great breath of the cold air, and thrilled with a 

 nameless sensation. Something was there, away to 

 the northward; it called to me from out of the dark 

 and gloom ; I was going to meet it. 



I lay down to sleep with the great blue expanse 

 open to my eyes. The stars were very large, and 

 wonderfully bright, yet they seemed so much farther 

 off than I had ever seen them. The wind softly 

 sifted the sand. I hearkened to the tinkle of the 

 cowbells on the hobbled horses. The last thing I 

 remembered was old Moze creeping close to my side, 

 seeking the warmth of my body. 



When I awakened, a long, pale line showed out of 

 the dun-colored clouds in the east. It slowly length 

 ened, and tinged to red. Then the morning broke, 

 and the slopes of snow on the San Francisco peaks 

 behind us glowed a delicate pink. The Mormons 

 were up and doing with the dawn. They were stal 

 wart men, rather silent, and all workers. It was 

 interesting to see them pack for the day s journey. 

 They traveled with wagons and mules, in the most 

 primitive way, which Jones assured me was exactly 



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