IX 



WITH A MORMON GUIDE THROUGH 

 THE SIERRA MADRES 



LOOKING far away to the west across the great 

 expanse of sun-scorched veldt, the huge, jagged 

 peaks of the Sierra Madres loomed up ever so 

 clearly against the skyline. The sun was just go- 

 ing to rest, and the scene, with its ever-changing 

 colors, was glorious beyond description. Long 

 threadlike clouds lingered close above the peak 

 tops, now pink, now scarlet, then deepening as 

 the light waned and slowly died away, leaving 

 the lofty summits in a cold, blue haze that made 

 them stand out bold, grim and forbidding. All 

 the world shuddered, for night had come. The 

 night prowlers yawned, stretched themselves and 

 went their many ways; and so the darkening 

 hours slipped by until a gray light in the east in- 

 dicated the beginning of another day. 



At full sunrise, upon gazing across the same 

 veldt, a little cloud of dust rose, caused by noth- 

 ing more nor less than a pack-train. The horses 



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