Vill 
A SURPRISE OF THE DESERT 
a faint trail outward, I knew not where nor 
eared. And then that trail had vanished, but 
not the desert. The hot desert was everywhere. 
It stretched its lazy length on and on. How the 
desert which seems so otiose can travel un- 
weariedly so very far is beyond a body’s capacity 
to understand, but certain it is the desert is 
very far-going. Its indolence does not keep it 
at home. It travels far and many whithers. 
I never murmur at the desert. Truth to say, 
I love it and laugh out loud on its wide, witless 
uncompanioned stretches. It is the lungs of a 
continent. A continent without a desert would 
be a disqualified continent. ‘“Clean-breathed as 
the desert”—no word can be added to that. 
The desert is brewing clean air for a continent 
to breathe. What a glorious vocation! And 
I am pilgrim on this same desert and, what is 
more, a pilgrim with a song. 
The day burnt hot and the desert path was 
nigh molten; but the desert air was an intox- 
ication. I walked as in a dream, a happy albeit 
a sweaty dream. The Sahara and I had become 
48 
I WAS in the desert and alone. I had taken 
