126 OBSERVATIONS OF A RANCHWOMAN 



rock-bound sides. And morning after morn- 

 ing under the climbing sun, and evening after 

 evening as the moon sails up over the lonely 

 peaks or the stars creep out solitary, a breeze 

 like the cool foam * of perilous seas ' in some 

 * faeryland forlorn ' scatters its vivifying drops 

 upon the heated face of the valley, and we 

 live and move and breathe the breath of life 

 as those whose tents are pitched nearer sea- 

 level can never do. Ours is the Arid Belt ; 

 but ours, too, is the keen pure air of un- 

 trodden desert and mountain. 



It is the habit of the comfortable and 

 prosperous to declare that everything has its 

 compensations, and for once the comfortable 

 and prosperous are right, though prating after 

 their manner of that of which they know 

 nothing nothing of the leagues of desert 

 solitude or of the gray Atlantic, no friendly 

 sail in sight. 



For, in truth, there is but little neighbour- 

 liness in Nature here. Even at her best 

 and fairest she retains her remoteness, her 

 indifference. Yet we know that it is here 

 that Nature, in spite of herself, enters into 

 our heart of hearts. She who would not 



