92 WHERE ROLLS THE OREGON 



The coyote and they have always dwelt together 

 on the desert, the hand of Nature giving differ- 

 ently, but giving evenly, to them both. 



There used to be no shadow on the desert. 

 Death crossed; but only Life dwelt among the 

 rim rocks and the sage. The gray-brown shadow 

 that I had seen on the shores of Silver Lake was 

 no shadow at all; it was a coyote. But that even- 

 ing as we left Silver Lake behind us and were 

 speeding out through the sage, we came upon 

 a straight, interminable line of squared pine stakes 

 set low in the sand, the trail of the surveyor 

 driven into the breast of the desert; and a long, 

 interminable line of stakes cast a long, intermin- 

 able shadow — the shadow of a coming railroad 

 that lay direct and dark across the plain. 



