TO COACHELLA VALLEY 119 



have become a prominent feature of the Coachella 

 Valley, and that seem to indicate that a decade or so 

 hence this region will be one great date-garden. The 

 chugging of a gasoline engine guided me to the place. 

 It was so good to see the generous stream of water 

 that was being led in furrows to the thirsty young 

 Deglets and Khadrawis that I asked the friendly 

 caretaker if I might camp near by. The request was 

 freely granted, and a shady thicket of mesquit 

 pointed out as the best spot. The thicket turned out 

 to be one great, house-like tree, which I shared with 

 a family of quail, a pair of thrashers, a rabbit or two, 

 a rabble of rats and mice, and an Egyptian plague of 

 flies. It was idyllic at dusk to listen to the dozy mur- 

 murings of quail, apparently confessions of penitent 

 cheepers answered with maternal forgiveness; while 

 the evening star rose above the gloaming mountains 

 and the breeze came cooler from the graying east. 



I may remark here a noticeable fact regarding the 

 climate of the desert. Even on days when the ther- 

 mometer, hung in complete shade, would register 

 105° to 110°, walking was not specially fatiguing; 

 and this in spite of the drawback of the looseness of 

 the soil. It is to be explained, of course, by the dry- 

 ness of the air, through which the sun's rays strike 

 with scorching yet not oppressive effect. It is a 

 sharp, direct heat, like that of a fire and not In any 

 degree like that of steam. Perspiration is profuse, 

 but evaporation keeps pace with it ; and when shade 

 is reached, coolness at once enwraps the traveller in 

 an air bath as soft and grateful as evening dusk. 



A strong wind blew all night from the northwest. 



