56 CALIFORNIA DESERT TRAILS 



First one and then the other of us had to stop, kneel 

 in the roasting sand (with the sun at somewhere about 

 140° Fahrenheit), and pull out one by one the long, 

 barbed thorns from the feet and knees of the wincing 

 animals. In these minor surgical operations we gradu- 

 ally lost sight of each other, and it was not until 

 long after dark that we met again at our designated 

 camp at Whitewater. 



The cholla is the general enemy. In autumn, when 

 the range is at its poorest, I have often seen cattle in 

 horrible distress from a great lump of this fiendish 

 plant that had got hooked on to their muzzles as 

 they searched for browse. At every attempt to feed, 

 the tormenting imp of course took a stronger hold. 

 As one cannot come near these half-wild cattle of 

 the ranges except by lassoing them, many an un- 

 lucky steer has died of starvation from sheer in- 

 ability to pick up feed. 



I could willingly devote a chapter to abusing the 

 cholla. Enough, however, to add that the blossom 

 is of a pale, unwholesome green, hardly noticeable; 

 and that if the plant bears any helpful or even inno- 

 cent part in the scheme of things on this planet, I 

 should be glad to hear of it. I do, indeed, remember 

 to have seen hornets in search of building-sites in- 

 specting the cholla with evident approval, but that 

 hardly counts for a virtue. 



Prominent almost everywhere in the view is an- 

 other cactus, often called, from its branching, antler- 

 like habit, the deer-horn cactus {Opuntia echino- 

 carpa). Unobservant people are apt to confuse this 

 species with the last-named, and call it cholla. If 



