1881.] Botanizing on the Colorado Desert. 31 
army blue, together with the manifestly unquiet condition of his 
nerves, told all too plainly the tale of desertion from the U. S. 
Army. His first words when we met were to ask how far it was 
to water. I pitied him most sincerely, for I had to answer “ at 
least ten miles ;” at which discouraging news he, however, stamped 
the sand in such emphatic wrath, and gave vent to such a volume 
of French profanity, as quite satisfied me that he was good for 
the ten miles even without refreshment. He had taken French 
leave of Fort Yuma on the Colorado early in the course of the 
previous night, and was now at midday full thirty-five miles out 
upon the desert, on his way to San Diego. Not having dared to 
appear before the inmates of the one station he had passed, he 
was now sorely pressed by thirst and hunger, and also harassed 
by the fear of falling into the hands of possible pursuers. When 
we parted he begged me not to give any information concerning 
him to any military party I might chance to meet upon his track; 
and certainly for his youth’s sake, and for the courage displayed 
in that bold adventure of a solitary flight across this hundred 
miles of desert, I did wish for him a clean escape, fugitive that 
he was. 
Twenty-four hours later this other adventurer had accomplished 
his undertaking; the desert had been crossed, and he sauntered 
leisurely and content under the cottonwoods and tall willows 
that make up the forests of the lower Colorado valley. It was 
only the twenty-second day of February, but the cottonwood 
trees were in full leaf and gave delightful shade. The willows, 
though they had not yet divested themselves of more than half 
their last year’s foliage, were in flower. The yellow catkins were 
actually crowding off the leaves which had kept their places and 
retained their freshness during the brief frostless winter. 
This belt of riverside timber is occupied by the Yuma Indians; 
but from the roadside no dwellings of the aborigines were appar- 
ent. One saw, however, numerous pathways which had been 
cut through the dense thickets leading from the road to the vil- 
lages, and the voices of Indian children at their sports came 
ringing out from the deep shady distance. On gaining the open 
river bank, I saw, near the ferry, four stalwart Yumas, in their 
usual picturesque costume of a red and yellow striped breech 
cloth, lying fast asleep on the upturned bottom of an abandoned 
flat boat. I disturbed not their slumbers. Two Mexicans near 
