THE PALM OASES AND CANONS 19 



tains in faint ethereal tones of rose, chrome, and 

 amethyst. 



I had not many such evening prospects during the 

 two weeks I camped in Chino Canon. It was a wet 

 winter, and I was not far from being perpendicularly 

 below the ten-thousand-and-odd-foot peak of the 

 mountain, which was engaged in perpetual storm. 

 After days of rain I would determine to move, at the 

 first cessation, down to the valley, which I could 

 often see stewing in sunshine while I shivered over 

 an unwilling camp-fire in the rain (I don't know 

 why it did n't occur to me to get into the warm 

 spring and wait until the clouds had rained them- 

 selves out). But when a change came my mind 

 changed with it and I stayed. At last there came a 

 drop in temperature, and after three days and nights 

 of torrential downpour I awoke one morning to find 

 the sun shining and the mountains sheeted with 

 snow down to a few hundred feet above camp. 

 Then it was high luxury to lie in my thermal pool 

 and get a startling effect of shining green palm- 

 fronds with background of solid snow. 



The Indians hereabouts have a legend that 

 Tahquitz, alias Chowk, their evil spirit, lives in 

 San Jacinto Mountain, and attribute to his opera- 

 tions the peculiar noises, rumblings, and so forth, 

 that are sometimes heard proceeding from his 

 haunts. Several times, while in this caflon, when 

 lying on the ground at night, I heard the sounds 

 plainly. There was no tremor of earthquake, but it 

 is possible that the heavy rains caused a movement 

 of the rocks on the mountain-side. The sounds, 



