FROM BEND TO BURNS 53 



begins in Bend long before, indeed, being dis- 

 tributed generally all over this Oregon country. 

 At Bend the railroad terminates. The only thing 

 you can do at Bend is to go back, unless you 

 are bound for Burns. The impression does not 

 begin at Bend, and it does not end at Burns. It 

 only deepens. For at Burns there is not so much 

 as a railroad terminus. You cannot go back from 

 Bums, or "out," as the citizens say, until there are 

 enough of your mind to charter the auto-stage. 

 The next railroad terminus to Burns is at Vale, 

 east-northeast one hundred and thirty-five miles 

 of sage beyond. 



Not split by time and space, and free from all 

 change, single, deep, indelible, gray is the desert 

 from Bend to Burns. 



It was 7.10 in the morning when we started 

 from Bend, it was after eight in the evening when 

 we swung into Burns. At noon we halted for din- 

 ner at a rude road-house, half of the journey done ; 

 at one o'clock we started on with a half of it yet 

 to go at the same pace, over the same trail, 

 through the same dust and sun and sage, the 

 other car of our party, that had followed us so far, 

 now taking the lead. There were details enough, 



