YUMA TO BLYTHE 327 



occupiers, might have been my hosts. Anglo-Saxon 

 superiority has sometimes to be taken for granted. 



A wide wash, the Arroyo Seco, comes in here. 

 There was no sign of recent rain having fallen here- 

 about, but the wash, dry as it now was, showed signs 

 that a flood had swept down from the Chocolates 

 within two or three weeks at most. I had seen the 

 storm that I raced to Yuma, ten days before, break- 

 ing over this locality, and now congratulated myself 

 that it had not overtaken me in the open, for fresh 

 drift was lodged four or five feet high all over the 

 wide channel. To be caught in one of these arroyos 

 (which are tempting camping-places on account of 

 firewood and shelter from wind), when a thunder- 

 storm bursts on the mountains, would be much like 

 being under a reservoir when the dam breaks. 



Evening found us still far from Palo Verde, but a 

 few hours' cool travelling was not a bad prospect. 

 Before the young moon had set we had come into a 

 well-marked road that comes up from Glamis, forty 

 miles to the southwest, and along this we marched 

 comfortably enjoying the grateful dusk. At length 

 came fences, and then a light. We stumbled into a 

 few sloughs that variegated the road, ran into a 

 barbed-wire fence or two, and pulled up at an adobe 

 store-building where a trio of teamsters were camp- 

 ing on the porch. Opposite was a corral and hay- 

 stack, pleasing sights for Kaweah. The proprietor 

 was routed out and we wound up a long day in very 

 tolerable quarters. 



Morning revealed Palo Verde as a hamlet — I 

 choose the smallest term, but it is too much — con- 



