::::::::3e OASIS AND DESERT jfe:::::::: 



deserved the opprobrium. Long before the actual rains 

 begin, vegetation seems to feel a quickening in the air ; 

 the plants scent the coming moisture weeks before- 

 hand and spring to life, — except on the alkali plain. 

 The very last glimpse we had of it showed no sign of 

 spring, no hint of green or of returning life, no resur- 

 rection of flowers or even of blades of grass. 



At night the moon looked down upon a desolate arid 

 plain stretching away to the mountains on tlie horizon. 

 The air was chill and a bleak wind searched out every 

 fold in our blankets ; we might almost have been 

 spending a night on the Arctic tundras. Absolute 

 silence reigned ; neither coyote nor Inrd of the night 

 broke the aAvful hush. If one was wakeful, it was a 

 relief at times to grind one's heels into the pumice, 

 or to speak — any sound making a welcome break 

 in the everlasting silence of the desert's sleep. With 

 scarce a moment of dawn, the sun flooded everything, 

 a o-rateful warmth for a while, but soon to make us 

 gasp in its breathless heat. 



Where a thin, blasted rind of red-broAvn grass-stems 

 partly covered the white dust, parched mesquite bushes 

 found root, and strange, uncouth organ cacti reared 

 their columns, like mammoth candelabra. Here wild- 

 eyed cattle roamed uneasily, nibbling occasionally at 

 the bitter grasses. 



Farther out in the desert, wdiere even the mesquite 

 and cacti failed, we rode slowly across the parched sur- 



<^ 85 ^ 



