CHAPTER IV 

 THE PARADE OF THE DESERT FLOWERS 



The lover of plants and flowers which thrive on the desert 

 wastes has often but little conception of the mystic beauty 

 which lingers there, wrapped up in the delicate waxlike cov- 

 erings of these wondrous blossoms. Exotic and strikingly 

 beautiful, some of them are. It would seem that Nature, the 

 Great Gardener, has caused the mountains to grow their 

 huge trees bedecked in evergreen, snow-crowned and haloed 

 in gorgeous golden sunsets with tints of spectral beauty; the 

 humid plains to grow their grasses, somber and uninviting, 

 the providers of mankind, and their trees, low and squatty, 

 with shade for the tired herd and the dusty traveler, and 

 also their velvet grassy slopes lovely to look upon. 



But what of the desert ! Well, we do not intend to paint 

 you a picture of desolation, where no living thing can grow. 

 Out of the debris of worlds in the making, so to speak, there 

 was left the great Amphitheater of the Sun where the scorch- 

 ing rays beat down. In this hot caldron of alkali and sand 

 and rock Nature went to work, and soon there appeared tiny 

 spiny shoots, leafy but devoid of color. All were hungry 

 and thirsty, and soon rain came, and then the transformation ! 

 Water appeared under the surface, and slowly rose saturating 

 the tiny roots. The hot winds of the day turned to cooling 

 zephyrs of the night which gently kissed each plant and 

 flower until the coming of the sun. With each kiss of the 

 dew-laden night air came the delicate perfume and the won- 

 derful color scheme which make all the cacti so attractive to 

 the eye and so stirring to the senses. From crannies and 



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