54 WHERE ROLLS THE OREGON 



there was variety enough, had one but the time 

 and the eyes to see. I had neither. This was my 

 first day in the desert ; and it was the desert that 

 I wanted to traverse — it was the sage and the 

 sand, the roll, the reach to the horizon, the gray, 

 sage gray, that I had come out to see. I must 

 travel swift and look far off. For you cannot 

 compass the desert horizon at a glance. Nor can 

 you see at a glance this desert gray; it is so low 

 a tone, a color so hard to fix. I must see sage 

 gray until it should dye the very grain of my 

 imagination, as the bitter flavor of the sage stains 

 the blood, and tastes in the very flesh of sage hen. 

 A day was not long enough ; one hundred and 

 fifty speeding miles could not carry me fast 

 enough or far enough to see the desert. And if I 

 should stop to look for the desert life, for the 

 parts, I should miss the whole. But I had my 

 hand instinctively upon the driver's arm when a 

 sage sparrow darted in front of the car. It was 

 a new bird to me. Then a sage thrasher flitted 

 away and alighted as the car sped past — another 

 new bird ! A badger drew into its burrow — I had 

 never seen the badger at home ; a lizard, a small 

 horned-toad, a gray-and-yellow-winged grasshop- 



