172 CALIFORNIA DESERT TRAILS 



had a fierce, stinging quality that made the skin 

 smart, and seemed as if it would wither the eyeballs 

 through the lids. The water in the canteen became 

 so hot that it was only while in the act of drinking 

 that thirst was allayed. Kaweah hurried along with- 

 out need of spur, and when we reached camp drank 

 until I feared the water resources of the valley 

 would be endangered and made him stop. I poured 

 what remained in the canteen into my canvas wash- 

 basin, and on using it several minutes afterwards 

 found it uncomfortably hot. Its temperature by the 

 thermometer was io8°. 



When a friend who had a date plantation near 

 Thermal — an over-modest name at this season — 

 a few miles up the valley, invited me to visit his 

 place, I was prompt to comply. Months of solitary 

 travel lay ahead, and I did n't miss any chance of 

 society while I could get it. My friend himself was 

 absent, but the jolly young Canadian foreman and 

 a delightful Mexican family who worked on the 

 place made my stay pleasant and profitable. The 

 owner is one of the pioneers of the date industry, 

 and an importer of the palms on a large scale from 

 the African and i\siatic date regions. The plantation 

 was a picture of thrift and perfect cultivation, and 

 the young Algerians, Arabians, and Persians seemed 

 as comfortable as though Santa Rosa Mountain, 

 across the valley, were Ararat, Sinai, or the Atlas. 



One of the neighboring cafions gave another ex- 

 ample of the fantastic in natural carving. The walls 

 are in places wrought to almost a cathedral look of 

 fineness, and with their whitish color take on, at a 



