248 
THE COPPER MINES TO 
miles we have traversed it without finding a drop of 
water that our suffering beasts would drink ; nor has 
there been grass enough since we left the copper mine 
region for more than a small number of animals, such 
as our own. 
The few animals noticed seem to have partaken of 
the wildness of the country they inhabit. An occa- 
sional herd of antelopes is seen galloping in the dis- 
tance, unapproachable by the hunter for the want of a 
tree or shrub behind which he may advance. Lizards 
of various hues and graceful shapes glide about with 
inconceivable swiftness. A startled hare throws up 
its long ears and bounds out of sight. The prairie 
dog gives a shrill cry of warning to its fellows, and 
drops into its burrow. The only things that do not 
seem terror-stricken are the so-called horned frogs. 
They, as if conscious of the security afforded by their 
own hideous ugliness, sullenly remove themselves out 
of the way of the horses’ hoofs, and regard the passer 
with malicious eye. The vegetable presents scarcely 
more of interest than the animal world. The flowers 
are almost entirely of that most unbecoming of all hues, 
yellow — varying from sulphur color to orange — and 
glaring in the bright sunlight. One becomes sickened 
and disgusted with the ever-recurring sameness of 
plain and mountain, plant and living thing. But if 
the day’s travel is tedious, it is almost compensated 
by the glory of the night. In this clear dry atmos- 
phere, without cloud or haze, moonlight and starlight 
have a splendor of which dwellers upon the sea-side 
cannot conceive. 
Due north from our camp I noticed a range of lofty 
