250 CALIFORNIA DESERT TRAILS 



place, and I had to resist an inclination to let the 

 afternoon slip away in a prolonged siesta. 



At a little cabin on the farther side of the cienaga I 

 found a lonely settler who runs a few head of cattle 

 on these dry ranges. With him, as it happened, was 

 a prospector who for years had made this part of 

 the desert his beat. This meeting made my oppor- ! 

 tunity for seeing a remarkable gorge, known as Split 

 Mountain Cafion, which I had been warned not to 

 attempt to explore without a guide who knew the 

 intricacies of the "bad-lands" that must be crossed 

 to reach it. By good luck this prospector needed to 

 visit certain claims of his near the outlet of the 

 cafion. We agreed to join forces, and arranged to 

 meet next day at a spot a few miles farther on called 

 Agua Caliente — the almost inevitable name for 

 any place in California, or Mexico either, where 

 warm springs occur. 



Next morning, then, I took my way again down 

 the Carrizo Creek Caiion. Crossing a divide, the 

 high country I had lately left was soon lost to view, 

 and on either side rose pale, ashy hills that dipped 

 lower and lower till they sank into the level. They 

 looked the very stronghold of drought, a scattering 

 of drab brush only serving to mark their ugliness 

 and hopeless aridity. The ocotillos grew few and 

 small, even the agaves were yellow and stunted. 

 When the road dropped to the dry river-bed, smoke- 

 trees and desert willows appeared as in duty bound, 

 but they had a pinched, last gasp look that intensi- 

 fied the misery of the landscape. The loose sand 

 made the hardest kind of going, and the sun dealt 



