THE MAKE OF THE DESERT 



35 



Omes in (he 

 waste. 



desert and returns to a well-watered country, 

 the last thing he becomes accustomed to is the 

 sight of running water. 



In every desert there are isolated places 

 where water stands in pools, fed by under- 

 ground springs, where mesquite and palms 

 grow, and where there is a show of coarse 

 grass over some acres. These are the so-called 

 oases in the waste that travellers have pictured 

 as Gardens of Paradise, and poets have used 

 for centuries as illustrations of happiness sur- 

 rounded by despair. To tell the truth they 

 are wretched little mud-holes ; and yet because 

 of their few trees and their pockets of yellow 

 brackish water they have an appearance of un- 

 reality. They are strange because bright-green 

 foliage and moisture of any kind seem out of 

 place on the desert. 



Yet surely there was plenty of water here at 

 one time. Everywhere you meet with the dry 

 lake-bed — its flat surface devoid of life and of- 

 ten glimmering white with salt. These beds 

 are no doubt of recent origin geologically, and 

 were never more than the catch-basins of sur- 

 face water ; but long before ever they were 

 brought forth the whole area of the desert 

 was under the sea. To-day one may find on 



Catch- 

 basins. 



