MESAS AND FOOT-HILLS 



201 



ens the mind and quiets the nerves. And how 

 clear it is ! Leagues away needle and spine and 

 mountain-ridge still come out clear cut against 

 the sky. Is it the air alone that makes possible 

 such far-away visions, or has the light somewhat 

 to do with it ? What penetrating, all-pervad- 

 ing, wide-spread light ! How silently it falls 

 and how like a great mirror the plain reflects it 

 back to heaven ! 



Light and air what means wherewith to 

 conjure up illusions and deceive the senses ! 

 We think we see far away a range of low hills, 

 but, as we ride on, buttes and lomas seem to 

 detach and come toward us. There is no range 

 ahead of us ; there are only scattered groups of 

 hills many miles apart. Far away to the left 

 on a little rise of ground is a wild horse watch- 

 ing us, his head high in air, his nostrils sniffing 

 for our scent upon the breeze. How colossal he 

 seems ! Doubtless he is the last of some upland 

 band, the leader of the troop who through great 

 size and strength was best fitted to survive. 

 But no ; he is only a common little Indian 

 pony distorted to huge proportions by the heat- 

 ed atmosphere. We are riding into the sunset. 

 Ahead of us every notch in the hills, every little 

 valley has a shaft of golden light streaming 



The light 

 and its 

 deceptions. 



Distorted, 

 proportions. 



