MOUNTAIN-BAliEIERS 



227 



Between the ocean and the mountain you are 

 standing upon lies the habitable portion of 

 Southern California, spread out like a relief 

 map with its broken ranges, its chaparral-cov- 

 ered foot-hills, and its wide valleys. How fail- 

 it looks lying under the westering sun with 

 the shadows drawing in the canyons, and the 

 valleys glowing with the yellow light from 

 fields of ripened barley ! And what a con- 

 trast to the yellow of the grain are the dark 

 green orchards of oranges and lemons scat- 

 tered at regular intervals like the squares of 

 a checker-board ! And what pretty spots of 

 light and color on the map are the orchards 

 of prunes, apricots, peaches, pears, the patches 

 of velvety alfalfa, the groves of eucalyptus and 

 Monterey cypress, the long waving green lines 

 of cottonwoods and willows that show where 

 run the mountain-streams to the sea ! 



Yet large as they are, these are only spots. 

 The cultivated portion of the land is but a 

 flower-garden beside the unbroken foot-hills 

 and the untenanted valleys. As you look down 

 upon them the terra-cotta of the granite 

 shows through the chaparral of the hills ; and 

 the sands of the valleys have the glitter of the 

 desert. You know intuitively that all this 



Southern 

 California. 



The garden 

 in the 

 desert. 



