TO SAN FELIPE CITY 267 



or two before we found it under the overhang of a 

 boulder, and then our feet projected annoy ingly. 

 Into this haven we crept, after feeding the horses, 

 and lay for an hour gathering energy for the eating 

 of lunch. We had brought the materials for a billy 

 of tea, and agreed that it was what we needed, but 

 there the matter hung. Finally we tossed up, and I, 

 who had suggested this solution in a spirit of fair- 

 ness, found myself condemned to walk out into the 

 broiling sun and endure the added warmth of a fire. 



When a strip of shade came under the cliff we 

 moved over, horses and men, and hugged the rock 

 while we waited for the temperature to pass the 

 crisis. Even in the shade the breeze was scorching 

 and the sand so hot as to be uncomfortable to sit 

 upon. The horses stood with half-shut eyes and 

 panted as if broken-winded. To pass the time agree- 

 ably, Wellson told stories of various Mikes and Bills 

 who had preceded us into these cafions, and most of 

 whom, apparently, had concluded to remain. 



In turn I related the following incident which had 

 been told me at Mecca by Johnny Thomas, one of 

 a number of prospectors who keep a sort of rookery 

 among the mesquits at the rear of the railway station. 



"Summer of nineteen seven," said Johnny, taking 

 his favorite pose, squatting on his haunches, in 

 the shade of a screwbean, "I was camped over at 

 Cottonwood. I was working on my Blue Dick claim 

 then. Old Blue (that was my pack-burro) was a 

 renegade.^ Old man Schneider bought him first from 



1 A burro that runs away at every opportunity. It is a common 

 fault, a mark of the depravity of the tribe. 



