298 CALIFORNIA DESERT TRAILS 



asleep, until a ridge of dunes in front at last broke 

 the interminable level. It was the great belt of sand- 

 hills, known as the Algodones, that stretch for forty 

 rniles southeasterly, parallel with the Chocolate 

 Mountains, ending at the boundary line a few miles 

 west of Yuma. At the nearer base of these dunes a 

 well had recently been sunk by the county, and here 

 I hoped to find water. ^ I had ample for my own 

 wants, but Kaweah was drooping already, for the 

 heat was atrocious and the humidity killing. The 

 wind had dropped and heavy clouds were climbing 

 up from south and east. I looked anxiously for signs 

 of the well, and reported the good news to Kaweah 

 when a black speck appeared miles away with a 

 white dot near it signifying a tent. It was an hour 

 before we arrived, but then fortune smiled, for an 

 employe of the county road department was camped 

 there, and he had a little hay, of which, at sixty dol- 

 lars a ton, I was free to use a feed or two. 



We had travelled for fifteen hours with only one 

 hour's stop, and I felt it was enough for the day. I 

 off-saddled, threw Kaweah a dollar's worth of this 

 princely forage, took a mouthful of chocolate, and 

 fell asleep before I was ready for another. I awoke 

 to find that a gale had sprung up and embedded me 

 in sand like a fossil. At dusk I awoke again to a 

 crash of thunder and at the same moment a torrent 



^ A few days ago, and a year after I crossed this tract, I read in a 

 Los Angeles newspaper of a man who had just been rescued here- 

 about. He was going from Yuma to the Imperial, had missed the way, 

 and was found, crazed with thirst, and (as usual) naked, crawling on 

 hands and knees about the sand-dunes. This is the third case of the 

 kind that I have read of within the space of a month. 



