28 CALIFORNIA DESERT TRAILS 



mouthed triangle narrowing suddenly to a gorge, 

 and is typical of strictly desert conditions. Here no 

 "Cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep." 

 One finds no growth of water-loving trees, for the 

 caiion does not lead down, as do the others, from 

 rain-compelling peaks, and only the slenderest 

 thread of water trickles in it, for the most part 

 underground. This was enough, however, to main- 

 tain one lovely rock-bound pool in which, by skin- 

 ning one's knees, a miniature swim could be achieved. 

 High falcon-haunted cliffs partly encircled the pool, 

 and a couple of palms growing in a niche fifty feet 

 above gave a tropic touch of luxury. 



On arriving at the pool I found fresh tracks of 

 mountain lion in the damp sand. My main object 

 in this caiion was the chance of photographing big- 

 horn, which are rather plentiful hereabouts, but 

 there would be small prospect of these so long as 

 lions were in the neighborhood. It would be some 

 compensation, I thought, to add a cougar pelt to 

 my coyote-skin mattress, so I built a brush blind 

 twenty yards from the spring, made an early supper, 

 and took my station, shot-gun with full charge of 

 buckshot across my knees, seven-shooter and hunt- 

 ing-knife in reserve. There was a half-moon, and on 

 the open space of sand around the spring even a 

 small object could be plainly seen. But my warlike 

 preparations went for naught. For five hours I 

 crouched at qui vive, but no such dark shape as I 

 looked for came pacing across the moonlit sand. A 

 fox trotted by, stopped with paw upraised, and 

 trotted on : and later I made out a group of shadowy 



