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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30686-h.zip b/30686-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e2ba4d5 --- /dev/null +++ b/30686-h.zip diff --git a/30686-h/30686-h.htm b/30686-h/30686-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b421557 --- /dev/null +++ b/30686-h/30686-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1417 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Little Tales of the Desert, by Ethel Twycross Foster. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 80%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + .blockquot2{margin-left: 0; margin-right: 38%; text-align: justify;} +table.palm {width: 600px; text-align: center; background-image: + url("images/i011.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%; font-style: italic;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: + 0; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Little Tales of The Desert, by Ethel Twycross Foster + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Little Tales of The Desert + +Author: Ethel Twycross Foster + +Illustrator: Hernando G. Villa + +Release Date: December 15, 2009 [EBook #30686] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE TALES OF THE DESERT *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;"> +<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="404" height="600" alt="LITTLE TALES OF THE DESERT Cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class='bbox'> +<h1>LITTLE TALES OF THE DESERT</h1> + +<h3><i>By</i></h3> + +<h2>ETHEL TWYCROSS FOSTER, L. L. B.</h2> + +<div class='center'><i>Member Suffolk Bar</i><br /> +<br /><br />————<br /><br /> +<i>Illustrations by</i><br /> + +HERNANDO G. VILLA<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> + +<div class='copyright'>PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR<br /> +LOS ANGELES, CAL.</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='copyright'> +<span class="smcap">Copyright 1913 by Ethel T. Foster</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /><br /><br /> +KINGSLEY, MASON AND COLLINS CO.<br /> +PRINTERS AND BINDERS<br /> +LOS ANGELES<br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="contents"> +<tr><td align='left'>CHRISTMAS ON THE DESERT</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>TRADE RATS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A CHAT WITH MRS. COTTONTAIL</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>RABBITS AND CACTUS BURRS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE DANGEROUS PET</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A VISIT TO PALM SPRINGS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE ROAD-RUNNER</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A STRANGE CAPTURE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A DESERT MAY PARTY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i002.jpg" width="600" height="391" alt="Christmas on the Desert" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Christmas on the Desert</span> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i003.jpg" width="600" height="301" alt="Christmas on the Desert title" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2>CHRISTMAS ON THE DESERT</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 55px;"> +<img src="images/i011-m.png" width="55" height="55" alt="M" title="" /> +</div><div class='unindent'>ARY was worried. To-morrow would be Christmas. Christmas! +a day always spent close to New York City, that place +where Santa Claus obtained all the contents of his wonderful +pack. Here she was, out in the heart of the great Arizona Desert. Her +little head was sorely puzzled over many things. Around her were +sand, rocks and mountains; no snow, no ice, save on the tops of the +distant peaks. How was Santa to draw his gift-laden sleigh over +barren stretches of sage brush and sand? Besides, he surely would +be far too warm, with his heavy fur coat and cap, to say nothing +of the poor reindeer who could scarcely live in such a country.</div> + +<p>Mary and her mother had joined her father at his mine, where +they were going to spend the winter, sleeping in a tent, eating in a +tent, but spending the remainder of the time out of doors, under the +clear, blue sky and breathing the sweet, pure air.</p> + +<p>Mary enjoyed all these things and no troubled thought crossed +her mind until the approach of Christmas. She sought counsel with +her mother, but Mother merely looked wise and said "wait." +Mothers, somehow, seem to know all about these things and Mary had +great confidence in hers, and so she ceased to worry, but still she +wondered.</p> + +<p>Christmas Eve at last arrived and Mary with many misgivings +retired early, as children often do in order to hasten the coming of +the day. She slept well, but awoke just as the sun came peeping +up from behind the distant mountains.</p> + +<p>She sat up on her cot very suddenly and rubbed her eyes. What +was that rapidly moving object coming over the brow of the nearest +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>hill? She hurried into her clothes and went out. As the speck came +nearer it began to take definite form. But how strange! What did it +all mean? Mary stood and stared with wide open eyes. Quickly +it came nearer and nearer and presently rolled over the nearest rise +and swung up in front of the camp.</p> + +<p>Mary had seen many interesting sights during her short life of +six years, but never one so strange.</p> + +<p>First came twelve little burros with harnesses nearly hidden by +holly berries, while behind was the queerest chariot that ever popped +out of a fairy tale. The wheels were covered with blue and yellow +flowers and above was an immense Spanish dagger with the center +removed, and in its place stood the same dear old Santa Claus, whom +Mary had seen every year of her life. Mary had never before seen +him in his desert costume. Instead of his warm fur coat, he wore +a kakhi coat and trousers, with high top boots, a bright red scarf +around his neck and a wide sombrero hat. Below the hat peeped out +the same kindly, bright eyes above the rosy cheeks and snowy white +beard. Beside him, instead of the usual evergreen tree, a large, queer, +crooked limbed joshua tree, was standing. It was literally laden with +presents, and all was lighted up, not with candles or wax tapers, +but with the crimson blossoms of the Spanish dagger. On every +dagger point was hung a gift. There were grown up presents for +father and mother and the cook and the miners; and there was a real +doll with blue eyes and teeth, that said "Papa," and "Mama," and +cried exactly like the dolls found in far away New York. There was +a tea set and a little kakhi suit. There was a cute little set of furniture +made from cactus burrs, to say nothing of the delicious cactus +candy, and other sweetmeats which must have come from a far away +town.</p> + +<p>Santa descended with a bow and a smile to all, distributed the +gifts, joined them for a moment at breakfast, for the dear old man +works very hard and gets hungry, and then with a cheery, "Merry +Christmas to all," he was off again, leaving behind one of the little +burros named Bepo, for Mary's own use.</p> + +<p>As he sped away over the sand toward the next camp, Mary gave +a sigh and turned to her mother with a happy laugh, saying, "I guess +Santa looks after the little girls and boys everywhere, doesn't he, +Mamma?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> +<h2>TRADE RATS</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 55px;"> +<img src="images/c-002-t.png" width="51" height="51" alt="T" title="" /> +</div><div class='unindent'>HE little clock struck twelve, all were sleeping soundly, the +tent flap was rolled away and a streak of moonlight stretched +half across the floor.</div> + +<p>Mary and her mother lay on a bunk and beyond the partition +one could hear the even breathing of father and cousin Jack. All +else was still save the occasional cry of a night hawk or the far distant +call of a coyote.</p> + +<p>Slowly, cautiously, stealthily into this silence crept a tiny object. +Its sharp, black eyes flashed fire in the moonlight and in its small +mouth it carefully carried a cactus burr.</p> + +<p>"Pst! Mary, did you hear something?" It was cousin Jack's +hoarse whisper that broke the silence and awakened Mary from a +beautiful dream and her eyes popped open wide. She snuggled +closer to Mother and stared into the moonlight. All she could hear +was a funny, little scratching sound, unlike any she had ever heard +around camp, and she knew not what it meant. None +of her little animal friends made a noise like that.</p> + +<p>Jack was out of bed, had lighted a candle and in his +pajamas, was searching under bunks, tables and chairs +for the thing that had caused the noise. Mary sat +up in bed, in time to hear a swift, rustling sound and +see a small object dart out of the tent door. Jack +knew it would do no good to search outside so tumbled +back into bed and once more all was still.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 331px;"> +<img src="images/i004.png" width="331" height="500" alt="Trade rat" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Next morning at breakfast all were wondering who +the strange visitor could have been, but +soon the incident was forgotten. Toward +noon, Mary went to a vacant bunk where +she kept her clothes, and picked up her +new doll. She removed its dress and +looked about for a little, red, wool gown, +of which she was very fond, for the +day was chilly and it looked like rain. +But the gown was gone, high and low +she looked, but find it she could not. +At last, tired out with searching, she +fell asleep, and the pretty lost gown +remained a mystery.</p> + +<p>During the next few days +strange things happened. On the +day following one of Dolly's +stockings was gone, on the +next, its mate; on the next<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +a pretty little velvet bonnet, and so on for a week. The strangest part +of it was that something or somebody was bringing in little sticks of +wood and cactus burrs and piling them up among the doll clothes.</p> + +<p>At the end of the week, Jack decided to solve the mystery. He +said he was going to sit up all night and see what kind of a thing +was coming into the tent so regularly. He didn't do exactly what +he intended to do, for by ten o'clock his eyelids grew too heavy and +he was fast asleep in the vacant bunk which he had chosen for a +hiding place.</p> + +<p>Patter, patter, patter, something was coming. Jack awoke with +a start of expectation. There was no moon tonight, but he had left +a candle burning in a distant corner. It was all he could do to keep +back a chuckle when he saw a big gray rat dart across the floor with +a good sized twig in its mouth. Jack kept perfectly still and the +little fellow, not even seeing him, continued its way across the floor to +the bunk on which sat Jack beside the doll clothes. It clawed its way +up the side of the bunk, dropped the twig, then selected a soft, woolly +skirt. Then it turned and scampered away through the door and out +into the sagebrush.</p> + +<p>Jack gave a hearty laugh and at once awakened the whole family +and told them his story.</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Father, "it was a trade rat. Why didn't we +think of that before? The hills are full of tiny holes where they burrow +down and build their nests."</p> + +<p>"But what about the twig?" asked Jack.</p> + +<p>"They always pay for what they take," was the unexpected reply, +"they are great fellows to steal both food and clothing, but they never +take anything without replacing it with a cactus burr, a twig, a chip of +wood, or something of the sort. They seem to think it wrong not to +leave something in place of what they take."</p> + +<p>"But what did they do with all my dolly's clothes?" asked Mary, +"surely they can't wear them."</p> + +<p>"Indeed no, my dear little girl," said Father, "but probably if +you could find their nest, you would see them busy at work lining it +with the soft, downy cloth in preparation for a family of little ones."</p> + +<p>Mary talked and wondered about all these happenings, and you +can imagine her delight when big Joe came running up to camp one +day and told her he had found her rat's nest. The men had been digging +on a little hill preparing to build the foundation of an extra tent. The +hill was covered with rat holes and gopher holes, and Joe lifted up a +shovel full of adobe and underneath was a little cave all carefully lined +with warm clothing. On the soft bed lay mother rat and six tiny little +fellows with eyes just opened. They were peering around with a +frightened look and giving shrill little squeaks of dismay.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i005.jpg" width="600" height="395" alt="Joshua Trees (Mary and Bepo)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Joshua Trees (Mary and Bepo)</span> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/i006.jpg" width="500" height="220" alt="A Chat with Mrs. Cottontail" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>A CHAT WITH MRS. COTTONTAIL</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 55px;"> +<img src="images/c-003-o.png" width="51" height="50" alt="O" title="" /> +</div><div class='unindent'>NE bright Sunday morning Mary wandered away from camp +alone. The fact was she did not know what to do. At home she +always attended church with Father and Mother, but here the +nearest church was eighty miles away, a bit too far for a morning ride, +you see. Father did not work Sunday, and as it was about the only time +he had to chat with Mother, Mary was for the moment forgotten.</div> + +<p>She followed along a little trail leading over a small hill east of +camp. Upon arriving at the top she noticed a clump of trees beyond, +and they looked so cool and shady that she trotted down the trail and +sat beneath them.</p> + +<p>Now this was a dangerous thing to do, for she could no longer see +home, and there were many trails leading in all directions. A little +girl of six years could hardly be expected to remember the way back.</p> + +<p>She was soon rested and decided to start for home. She was getting +hungry, too. A tiny hill rose from the clump of trees in every direction, +which one ought she to choose? She was not a child to be +daunted by a thing like this, so boldly started up the path she thought +led home. She climbed to the top, but no camp was in sight, no tents, +no horses, nothing to indicate the surroundings of those dear people +that she did want dreadfully to see, O! so quickly.</p> + +<p>"Oh me, oh my, I guess I'm lost!" she cried with a little break in +her voice. "I hope there are no bears in these hills. Oh, why did I +run away, and where is my mamma?"</p> + +<p>She ran back down the hill, throwing herself on the ground under +the trees while the great big tears chased down her rosy cheeks. "Can +I help you, little girl?" said a tiny voice near by, "you are getting +your pretty dress soiled and your hair will be full of sand."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't know rabbits could talk," and Mary's eyes grew +big and round with wonder. There before her stood a little cottontail<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +perched upon its haunches and blinking at her with its cute little pink +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we desert rabbits could always talk, didn't you know that? +But, where is your mamma and what are you doing out here alone?"</p> + +<p>"I guess I'm lost," answered Mary, "but you live here, can't you +find my home?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear little girl, I can't, and I will tell you why. Mr. Man +with many brothers and sisters lives in your home. Mr. Man has a gun +and he uses that gun to kill poor little rabbits like me. Don't you remember +eating some for dinner yesterday? Well, on that day several +of our dear little playfellows were killed. Now you see I don't care to +be eaten, so must not go near your home, even to show you the way."</p> + +<p>Mary gave a little shudder, for she did remember eating rabbit for +dinner the day before and that she liked it, too; but she made a resolve +never to do so again.</p> + +<p>"But I'll not desert you for all that," continued the strange friend. +"My home is close by and as you are but a wee bit of a girl and have no +gun, I'll take you there."</p> + +<p>Mary was delighted. To visit a real rabbit village and to be taken +there by Mrs. Rabbit, herself, would be a strange adventure, indeed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rabbit led the way down a narrow path worn by the little +feet of her numerous family. Mary trotted along behind when suddenly +the rabbit stood up, gave a jump and darted away into the bushes.</p> + +<p>Mary, startled, looked up in surprise. There stood cousin Jack +gazing down at her with an amused twinkle in his eyes; why! she, herself, +was lying, her head pillowed on her chubby arms, directly under +the shady tree where she had thrown herself in despair but a few moments +before.</p> + +<p>"Well, little girl, what have you been dreaming about?" he asked. +"Mother is sure you are lost or eaten up by some of your wild friends."</p> + +<p>At this, Mary stood up and looked around indignantly. "Did I +really dream about all those dreadful things Mrs. Cottontail told me?" +she said.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/i007.jpg" width="500" height="199" alt="Rabbits and Cactus Burrs" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2>RABBITS AND CACTUS BURRS</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 55px;"> +<img src="images/i011-m.png" width="55" height="55" alt="M" title="" /> +</div><div class='unindent'>ARY and Bepo, the burro, soon became fast friends. Few +burros lead as happy a life as being the constant playmate of +a merry child. Bepo seemed to appreciate this fact and loved +Mary accordingly. Many a prospecting trip did they take on their +own account over the network of trails leading from camp to the +numerous shafts and tunnels of the mine.</div> + +<p>You city children and even you country boys and girls would never +dream of all the delightful and interesting things they found. I suppose +you think of the desert as being a flat stretch of sand with nothing on +it, like the maps of the desert of Sahara, in Africa? I know I used to. +But indeed it is not so. Many strange forms of life exist, both plant +and animal, as we shall soon learn.</p> + +<p>This particular morning as they started out, Mary noticed that +the ground was covered with cactus burrs. Did you ever see a cactus +burr? They are similar to those you find in the country, but larger, +with pointed daggers sticking out in all directions, and they grow on +a crooked, prickly stalk or spine in the most comical way imaginable. +As they ambled along they discovered more and yet more of them. +Mary, being an inquisitive child, jumped down from Bepo's back for +a closer inspection of the strange things. Then she discovered a queer +thing. She had seen lots of burrs before but these were different. All +the sharp daggers had been removed, the burrs had been split open and +the soft centers taken out.</p> + +<p>Mary looked all around, who could have done it? No man could +have opened all those burrs, it would have taken him weeks. He would +have pricked his fingers many times and often besides.</p> + +<p>Then she heard a faint rustling in the bushes near by. Softly she +tiptoed behind a clump of sagebrush and peeked over. There was a +little rabbit nibbling away at a cactus burr. He handled it very carefully +to guard against pricks and very daintily nibbled off, one by one, +the tiny daggers. When all were gone he split open the burr, sucked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +out the juice, then nibbled up the soft center. So you see, even on this +sandy desert, Nature cares for all her children.</p> + +<p>Mary was so pleased at the sight that she clapped her little hands +in glee and cried, "You dear, cute little thing!" But Mr. Rabbit was +not used to little girls. He looked up suddenly with fright in his tiny +pink eyes, then sprang away into the bushes.</p> + +<p>Mary led Bepo around to a rock and clambered onto his back. As +they slowly stubbed along over the rough trail they surprised many a +family of rabbits and not a few were nibbling away at the prickly +cactus burrs.</p> + +<p>You can ride for miles over the desert without finding water, no +lakes, no rivers, no little stream even; and if it were not for the sweet +juices in the center of these burrs many small animals would die of +thirst.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i008.jpg" width="600" height="392" alt="Twilight on the Desert" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Twilight on the Desert</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i009.jpg" width="550" height="251" alt="A Dangerous Pet" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>THE DANGEROUS PET</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 55px;"> +<img src="images/i011-m.png" width="55" height="55" alt="M" title="" /> +</div><div class='unindent'>ARY, with her mother, was taking a short stroll just before +sundown. As they were about to return they espied the largest +and strangest lizard they ever saw. It was nearly two feet long, +with a perfectly round body, a broad, flat head, short legs and a short, +blunt tail. It was a chunky little animal, all covered with a rough skin +like an alligator and dotted with square warts. It seemed very tame +and followed Mary into the tent where she made a warm nest for it in +the corner near her bunk. It was very fond of being petted and would +lie and rub its head against Mary's hand. When Father returned at +night he was much pleased with the strange pet and encouraged Mary +to keep it, thinking, of course, that it was some strange overgrown +lizard. The question was, what should they feed it? First they tried +grubs and worms which were not touched; then bread, meat, insects +and all sorts of things, but nothing would he taste. At last someone +thought of eggs and that was apparently just what the little fellow +wanted, and that is what he lived on during the month Mary had him +for her pet.</div> + +<p>At the end of that month big Ben, the foreman, came into Mary's +tent to repair the floor. The first Mary knew that anything was wrong +was when he gave a scream, calling to her to keep away from the tent. +Her father, nearby, ran to see what was the trouble; Ben pointed to +the big lizard and cried, "A gila monster, let us kill him quickly!" +Mary and her parents looked at him in surprise. They had never heard +of such an animal. Ben, however, had spent years on the desert and +knew well its dangers. But he had no gun and all he could do was to +take a stick and push the thing out of doors. Then a queer thing happened. +When the hot sun shone down on the gila monster (pronounced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +heela) it was no longer tame and gentle, but would snap at anyone who +came near and acted ugly, continuing to hiss with his mouth wide open, +on the lookout for the first sign of an enemy.</p> + +<p>A squirrel came out of the brush and ran a bit too near, when the +big lizard fastened its fangs in the poor little animal and turned over +with it in its mouth. The poison is in its lower jaw and when he turns +over it flows out. The squirrel died in a very few moments from the +effects of the poison in spite of the fact that Ben had meantime shot the +gila monster through the head.</p> + +<p>Mary's parents were horrified when they realized what a dangerous +pet their little girl had been playing with for so many weeks. They +determined to seek Ben's advice hereafter before housing any more +strange animals.</p> + +<p>But Mary was not in great danger for generally the little reptiles +are tame indoors, but out of doors in the sunshine they become cross +and ugly and their bite is more dangerous than that of a rattlesnake.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 390px;"> +<img src="images/i010.jpg" width="390" height="600" alt="Palm Springs" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Palm Springs</span> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>A VISIT TO PALM SPRINGS</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 55px;"> +<img src="images/i011-m.png" width="55" height="55" alt="M" title="" /> +</div><div class='unindent'>OTHER was unused to the desert, +so Father, having arranged his +business so he could leave it with +Big Ben, the foreman, decided to take a +vacation and all were going over to Palm +Springs for a few days.</div> +<div class='center'> <table class="palm" summary="palm"> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='blockquot2'> +<p>Now, Palm Springs is in California +near the great Mountain of San Jacinto +and it took a day and a half to get there. +It was great fun for Mary and Jack to get +into a sleeping car and go speeding along +over the desert again. They recognized +many of their old friends on the way, most +of whom they knew nothing about the last +time they rode on a train. Then it grew +dark and they could no longer see out of +the window.</p> + +<p>The next morning after breakfast the +conductor opened the door and called out, +"Palm Springs."</p> + +<p>They hurriedly gathered together +their bags and suitcases and left the train.</p> + +<p>My! but wasn't it cold, and didn't the +wind blow? Folks could hardly stand +straight and the wind was blowing right +off the snow-capped mountains that were +all around the place, making it seem colder +still. Mary was hurried into the stage and +before they had gone a mile their faces +were covered with sand blowing off the +desert and you could never have told that +their clothes had ever been clean.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<p>Palm Springs itself was five miles from the station, but suddenly +the wind stopped blowing and it was warm as summer, then pretty soon +they heard dogs barking and rode right through an Indian village.</p><p>Some of the squaws were making baskets, but most of them were +out in the fields working just like men. Imagine Mamma doing work +like that. It was interesting to see them, though, especially the little +papooses being carried in a little box fastened to the mother's back.</p></div> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></td> +</tr></table></div> + + +<p>Just beyond was Palm Springs settlement itself, with lots of tents, +several houses, a store and a hotel. They stopped at the hotel, and +after dinner looked around the funny little store where they sold a +little of everything while a phonograph ground out wheezy music. +They visited the funny little cottages with their roofs and sides all +covered with big palm leaves instead of boards. Then they went up +to the hot springs.</p> + +<p>There was a stream of water shooting up in the air part of the +time, but generally just bubbling up a little higher than the pond itself, +which was about six feet wide and ten feet long. It didn't look deep, +but the man at the springs told them the center shaft was sometimes +as big as a well and no one knew how deep. Father had been there before +and he wanted to take Mary into the spring, so with Jack they +hired bathing suits and went down. It was very funny. They thought, +of course, it was going to be deep, but the bottom was hard sand, and the +water just covered their ankles. Father took Mary in first, but the +water did not become deeper, but all at once the sand gave way. Father +said it was quick sand which somewhat frightened her, but he didn't +seem scared so she tried not to be. They went down and down into the +sand which seemed to tighten around them, when all at once, when +Mary was up to her shoulders, the spring gave a gurgle and tossed +them out into shallow water. Mary was frightened, but the rest laughed +at her, especially Jack, who was fourteen and thought he was almost a +man. He said he could walk around in it all right—the old water could +not toss him up like that. It was just bubbling over a little then, so he +marched boldly in. But when he felt the warm watery sand hugging +him tighter and tighter and sucking him down, he thought surely he +was lost and wished he had not bragged. But just then the spring +gurgled louder and a high stream shot up and in it was Cousin Jack, +who landed safe and sound beside them. I can tell you he was a happy +boy.</p> + +<p>They soon became accustomed to the idea and spent an hour of +fun wading in and being gently but firmly tossed out. Then they went +back to Dr. Murray's Hotel where Mother met them at the door. +After a supper of fresh eggs, nice biscuits, strawberries and cream, +they retired to their tent and when all were in bed Father rolled up +the sides so they could look out at the stars and breathe the fresh, +warm air softly blown to them by the gentle mountain breezes.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 389px;"> +<img src="images/i012.jpg" width="389" height="600" alt="The Road Runner" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Road Runner</span> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/i013.jpg" width="500" height="140" alt="THE ROAD-RUNNER title" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>THE ROAD-RUNNER</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 55px;"> +<img src="images/c-003-o.png" width="51" height="50" alt="O" title="" /> +</div><div class='unindent'>F all Mary's pets she liked her road-runners best. Did you ever +see a road-runner? It makes its home on the desert where you +would find it impossible to get food, yet this little bird finds +plenty and leads a happy existence. He looks much like a pheasant with +broad wings, a long, broad tail and a crest that stands up very stiff and +straight. The tail is very flexible, and many people who have lived on +the desert a long time, say they can almost tell what the road-runner's +thoughts are by the way he holds his tail. If you can make friends +with the little bird and get near enough to it you can see the beautiful +colors in its feathery coat. The olive green wings are edged with white, +and the crest is of dark, deep blue. The bird is about twenty inches +long, including the tail.</div> + +<p>A pair had built a nest in a clump of cactus a short distance from +camp. The first time Mary espied them was the day after her arrival. +One came up over a low ridge and stood looking at Mary with curiosity +expressed in its long, flexible tail. This, of course, aroused Mary's interest +and she hastened away to make friends. But it was not to be. +Very quickly the bird retreated to its cactus patch. But it came again +the next day and the next.</p> + +<p>At first Mary was afraid of frightening it away, but one day it +came as she was eating a thick slice of bread and butter and she tossed +it some crumbs. As before, he scampered away to a safe distance, but +there he stopped. Mary stepped back and waited and pretty soon the +little fellow returned and rapidly ate up all the crumbs. He then gave +a little toss of his tail as if to say "thank you," and went home.</p> + +<p>After this Mary and the little road-runner soon became fast friends, +and later Mary taught him that Cousin Jack was his friend, too. He +soon learned that the big horn that the cook blew three times a day +meant something to eat; and was always on hand to get his share. He +would always save a goodly part of this share and carry it home to his +mate.</p> + +<p>Mary and Jack each had a burro and often they would take short +rides to the nearby camps, for Jack was a steady, reliable boy and +Mary's father knew he would take care to see that no harm came to her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<p>The trail led by the road-runner's nest and whenever he saw the +little girl and the big boy coming along on their burros he would dart +out into the road and rush ahead at full speed. He could always keep +ahead, too. Try as they might Mary and Jack were unable to get ahead +of him. When he grew weary of the sport he would turn suddenly and +hurry into the brush until they had passed.</p> + +<p>In some ways, though, he was a nuisance. Mary's uncle had sent +them a box containing a dozen chickens so that they could have some +fresh eggs as a change from the cold storage eggs commonly found in +mining camps. Now, the little road-runner would often try to slip into +the chicken yard when no one was looking. He would wait indifferently, +promenading up and down in a dignified manner until one of the hens +cackled. He knew this meant a fresh egg and he would deliberately +march up, peck a hole in the new laid egg and as deliberately swallow +the contents.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 387px;"> +<img src="images/i014.jpg" width="387" height="600" alt="Colorado Desert (Ocatilla in foreground)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Colorado Desert (Ocatilla in foreground)</span> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/i015.jpg" width="500" height="273" alt="A Strange Capture" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>A STRANGE CAPTURE</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 55px;"> +<img src="images/c-003-o.png" width="51" height="50" alt="O" title="" /> +</div><div class='unindent'>NE warm day in February a great lazy rattlesnake, over three +feet long, glided out from under a broad, flat rock. It slowly +wound its way through sagebrush and cactus until it found an +open space where the hot rays of the noonday sun fell uninterrupted.</div> + +<p>Here it stretched itself out at full length, and after enjoying the +warmth of the sunshine for a little while, gradually grew drowsy and at +last fell asleep.</p> + +<p>Exactly one hour later, a faint rustling sound was heard. From +behind the same rock peeped out an excited looking little creature. It +was no other than our little friend the road-runner. But why so agitated +and disturbed? Its little tail was bobbing up and down, and its +beautiful bluish-black crest was raised as high as possible. He had +spied his lifelong enemy, the rattlesnake.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as quickly as he came, he disappeared from sight. He +was soon back, carrying in his beak a cactus burr, which he placed on +the ground near the sleeping snake. Back and forth he went, each time +returning with a prickly burr. Before long he had a hedge entirely +surrounding poor, unsuspecting Mr. Snake. Then one more burr was +brought and quietly dropped on the snake's head.</p> + +<p>Now, the skin of a snake is very sensitive and he immediately woke +up. Of course his first motion rubbed the delicate skin against the +prickly burr. He gave a vicious rattle and started to move away from +the troublesome thing. He struck at one side of the hedge, then another. +He grew more and more angry. He would try to poke his nose +between the burrs, but on being pricked by the sharp points, he would +draw back and try in another place. At last, overcome with anger and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +mortification, he drove his poisonous fangs into his own body and +soon died.</p> + +<p>Mr. Road-runner, meanwhile, had retreated to a safe distance and +was much interested in all that was happening. When sure the snake +was dead, he cautiously darted up to the hedge and gave the dead snake +a series of sharp pecks with his long beak as an additional safeguard. +Then he settled down and ate a portion, carrying the best part away to +his nest to share with his mate.</p> + +<p>Now, if that snake had kept his temper and not become excited, he +might have realized that by poking his nose under the burrs he could +lift them and get away with only a few scratches.</p> + +<p>However, there are times when even boys and girls let their anger +get the best of them, so why should we expect more wisdom in a poor, +foolish snake!</p> + +<p>Sometimes the snake doesn't kill itself, but only becomes tired out +and lies down motionless, when the little road-runner comes over and +pecks him to death. There are only a few animals, birds or insects who +can kill a rattlesnake, and the road-runner does this about as neatly +as any.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 394px;"> +<img src="images/i016.jpg" width="394" height="600" alt="A Desert May Party" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A Desert May Party</span> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/i017.jpg" width="500" height="244" alt="A Desert May-Party title" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>A DESERT MAY PARTY</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 55px;"> +<img src="images/c-008-w.png" width="51" height="51" alt="W" title="" /> +</div><div class='unindent'>HY, Mamma, the very idea! Who ever heard of a desert May +party?" I hear some tiny girl exclaim, "A desert is all sand, +if there were flowers there it would not be desert at all."</div> + +<p>Ah, yes, my dear, I used to think so, too, but to Mary it was no surprise. +She had spent the winter on the desert, had seen the heavy rains, +and afterwards had watched how rapidly the sturdy little green shoots +would push their way up through the hard unsympathetic soil. Generally +once a year the desert puts on its party dress and is dotted with +a gorgeous mass of blossoms.</p> + +<p>The rains come at intervals in the winter and early spring and the +heavier and more frequent they are, the greater will be the flower +growth. The March and April rains this year had been heavy. There +had been days when Cousin Jack had come in with his raincoat dripping +and declared that he knew Mt. Kenyon would be washed away. Now +and then a cloudburst would strike terror to Mary's tender heart. She +had gone out when the weather cleared and watched the warm earth +rise up and break, while the little green things peeped through and took +their first look at the sun. The ground was always warm and it was +amazing to see how rapidly things would grow if you but gave them +water.</p> + +<p>The thing that now troubled Mary was the fact that she had no one +to ask to share her party. Of course there was Jack, but Jack was only +a boy and a May party, above all else, means girls.</p> + +<p>It is strange what unexpected things happen at times, even in lonesome +mining camps. The thought had barely entered her little curly +head when she looked away over toward the mountains and saw a big, +lumbering wagon, drawn by four strong horses, come creeping down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +the road. Long before it reached camp she could see that there were +several people on it and then she saw the children.</p> + +<p>There were four of them, three little blue eyed girls with flaxen +hair and a slightly older brother with the same light hair but who looked +at the world through a pair of big, laughing brown eyes. They were +staying twenty miles up the valley with their parents who had charge +of a small cattle ranch, and Mother and children were having a holiday +going to town with Father. They stopped to water the horses and you +may be sure that it did not take long for the children to become acquainted. +Not many little folks live on the desert and playmates are +almost unknown. As it turned out, Father and Mother went on to town +alone and left the children to enjoy one another until their return on +the following day.</p> + +<p>Mary's mother was always planning surprises, so when she appeared +with two large lunch baskets heaped with goodies, Mary realized +that this would be a May day party unlike any she had ever before seen. +Six burros were kept ever ready in the corral and these were caught +and saddled for the children. Mother rode her Indian pony, a Christmas +gift from Father. As they passed the mill and wound up the trail by +the main shaft of the mine, the men were changing shift and as the +cage swung up to the surface the miners called a cheery good-bye, for +they were very fond of Mary.</p> + +<p>They ascended the next rise and what they saw was fairyland. They +were at the entrance of a canyon. A tiny stream of water ran in the +center and beside it wound a narrow trail. Foothills rolled up on either +side and the steep walls were a mass of flowers. Wild heliotrope, +thistle, poppies, white, pink and yellow gillias, long-leaved wild +tobacco, with its rich yellow blossoms, all were massed together and +far more beautifully arranged than the stiff gardens in Central Park.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Louise," called Jack to Mamma, who was riding behind +with the little girls, "isn't that a campfire up on the next hill?"</p> + +<p>"No, Jack," she replied, "not a fire, only a smoke tree. That is +why it received its name. The branches are grayish with tiny sage-green +leaves and at a distance it is often mistaken for a fire as it is all +so delicate and filmy."</p> + +<p>By this time Jack had ridden ahead for a closer inspection of the +bush and startled us all by a little cry of pain.</p> + +<p>"Be careful, Jack, it is also called the porcupine tree by the +miners," called Mother, "the tiny leaves are nothing more than very +sharp and prickly spines."</p> + +<p>"Why is it that so many desert plants have stickers and thorns?" +asked Tom, the rancher's son.</p> + +<p>"Why, can't you see for yourself, Tom?" called back Jack, "if +they weren't sharp and prickly all these little desert animals would tear +them up when they were young and tender and they would never grow +to be full sized."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mother, "it is simply the way that nature protects her +young so that it will not be destroyed in infancy. There are still other +protections necessary on the desert for the hot sun would otherwise kill +many plants. A large number are covered with a soft down which is +really a mass of tiny air cells that keep the stems and leaves cool and +protect them from the hot sun's rays."</p> + +<p>"And see, there is a creosote bush, its rich green leaves are covered +with a kind of varnish which keeps them cool the same as the hairs +would do. See how the recent rains have brought out a mass of blossoms +at the tip of every branch, what a delicate flower, held in a pale +green cup. And there is another smoke tree, nearer the water and so +it has blossomed earlier, every point has a gorgeous purple flower."</p> + +<p>"See the funny bunch of sticks over here, Mamma," called Mary, +"they look like a lot of candles sticking up."</p> + +<p>"And that is just what they are called, my dear, ocatilla, or candle +cactus. They have no leaves for the greater part of the year, but after +the rains they leave out and are soon covered with those beautiful +scarlet bells."</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Mary, "they look like some beautiful winged +bird just about to fly away. And how tall the candles are, lots higher +than our tents back in camp."</p> + +<p>It would take too long to tell you about all the desert beauties that +the children saw, they all agreed that nothing as beautiful was ever +seen "back East" where it rains half the time.</p> + +<p>At noon they sat down under a clump of mesquite and ate the +splendid luncheon. The pure fresh air had made them ravenously hungry. +The mesquite was a low, stocky tree which did not grow high but +spread out in every direction, branches thick with foliage.</p> + +<p>"Why don't the old tree grow up higher and not bother about having +so many side branches?" asked Jack.</p> + +<p>Then Mother told him. "Why, can't you see?" she asked. "The +sun is so hot that it kills the tiny buds on the end of the branch; but the +tree is determined to grow, just the same, so it sends out side buds, +where the sun's rays are not as hot and the short, stubby tree is the +result."</p> + +<p>"At any rate it makes a fine shade and that is all we need just +now," answered Jack.</p> + +<p>They rested under the wide spreading branches until the sun shone a +bit less fiercely, then they slowly rode homeward through the beautiful +blossoms, arriving just at dusk, very hungry, a little tired, but happy +in the thought that they had visited one of the strangest and most +beautiful corners of the earth.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3><p>The original text did not contain a table of contents. One was created for +this text.</p> +<p>Khaki is spelled kakhi in this text.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Tales of The Desert, by +Ethel Twycross Foster + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE TALES OF THE DESERT *** + +***** This file should be named 30686-h.htm or 30686-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/6/8/30686/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Little Tales of The Desert + +Author: Ethel Twycross Foster + +Illustrator: Hernando G. Villa + +Release Date: December 15, 2009 [EBook #30686] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE TALES OF THE DESERT *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: LITTLE TALES OF THE DESERT Cover] + + + + +LITTLE TALES OF THE DESERT + +_By_ + +ETHEL TWYCROSS FOSTER, L. L. B. + +_Member Suffolk Bar_ + +_Illustrations by_ + +HERNANDO G. VILLA + +PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR + +LOS ANGELES, CAL. + + + + + COPYRIGHT 1913 BY ETHEL T. FOSTER + + + KINGSLEY, MASON AND COLLINS CO. + PRINTERS AND BINDERS + LOS ANGELES + + +Contents + + CHRISTMAS ON THE DESERT 5 + TRADE RATS 7 + A CHAT WITH MRS. COTTONTAIL 9 + RABBITS AND CACTUS BURRS 11 + THE DANGEROUS PET 13 + A VISIT TO PALM SPRINGS 15 + THE ROAD-RUNNER 17 + A STRANGE CAPTURE 19 + A DESERT MAY PARTY 21 + + +[Illustration: _Christmas on the Desert_] + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHRISTMAS ON THE DESERT + + +MARY was worried. To-morrow would be Christmas. Christmas! a day always +spent close to New York City, that place where Santa Claus obtained all +the contents of his wonderful pack. Here she was, out in the heart of +the great Arizona Desert. Her little head was sorely puzzled over many +things. Around her were sand, rocks and mountains; no snow, no ice, save +on the tops of the distant peaks. How was Santa to draw his gift-laden +sleigh over barren stretches of sage brush and sand? Besides, he surely +would be far too warm, with his heavy fur coat and cap, to say nothing +of the poor reindeer who could scarcely live in such a country. + +Mary and her mother had joined her father at his mine, where they were +going to spend the winter, sleeping in a tent, eating in a tent, but +spending the remainder of the time out of doors, under the clear, blue +sky and breathing the sweet, pure air. + +Mary enjoyed all these things and no troubled thought crossed her mind +until the approach of Christmas. She sought counsel with her mother, but +Mother merely looked wise and said "wait." Mothers, somehow, seem to +know all about these things and Mary had great confidence in hers, and +so she ceased to worry, but still she wondered. + +Christmas Eve at last arrived and Mary with many misgivings retired +early, as children often do in order to hasten the coming of the day. +She slept well, but awoke just as the sun came peeping up from behind +the distant mountains. + +She sat up on her cot very suddenly and rubbed her eyes. What was that +rapidly moving object coming over the brow of the nearest hill? She +hurried into her clothes and went out. As the speck came nearer it +began to take definite form. But how strange! What did it all mean? Mary +stood and stared with wide open eyes. Quickly it came nearer and nearer +and presently rolled over the nearest rise and swung up in front of the +camp. + +Mary had seen many interesting sights during her short life of six +years, but never one so strange. + +First came twelve little burros with harnesses nearly hidden by holly +berries, while behind was the queerest chariot that ever popped out of a +fairy tale. The wheels were covered with blue and yellow flowers and +above was an immense Spanish dagger with the center removed, and in its +place stood the same dear old Santa Claus, whom Mary had seen every year +of her life. Mary had never before seen him in his desert costume. +Instead of his warm fur coat, he wore a kakhi coat and trousers, with +high top boots, a bright red scarf around his neck and a wide sombrero +hat. Below the hat peeped out the same kindly, bright eyes above the +rosy cheeks and snowy white beard. Beside him, instead of the usual +evergreen tree, a large, queer, crooked limbed joshua tree, was +standing. It was literally laden with presents, and all was lighted up, +not with candles or wax tapers, but with the crimson blossoms of the +Spanish dagger. On every dagger point was hung a gift. There were grown +up presents for father and mother and the cook and the miners; and there +was a real doll with blue eyes and teeth, that said "Papa," and "Mama," +and cried exactly like the dolls found in far away New York. There was a +tea set and a little kakhi suit. There was a cute little set of +furniture made from cactus burrs, to say nothing of the delicious cactus +candy, and other sweetmeats which must have come from a far away town. + +Santa descended with a bow and a smile to all, distributed the gifts, +joined them for a moment at breakfast, for the dear old man works very +hard and gets hungry, and then with a cheery, "Merry Christmas to all," +he was off again, leaving behind one of the little burros named Bepo, +for Mary's own use. + +As he sped away over the sand toward the next camp, Mary gave a sigh and +turned to her mother with a happy laugh, saying, "I guess Santa looks +after the little girls and boys everywhere, doesn't he, Mamma?" + + + + +TRADE RATS + + +THE little clock struck twelve, all were sleeping soundly, the tent flap +was rolled away and a streak of moonlight stretched half across the +floor. + +Mary and her mother lay on a bunk and beyond the partition one could +hear the even breathing of father and cousin Jack. All else was still +save the occasional cry of a night hawk or the far distant call of a +coyote. + +Slowly, cautiously, stealthily into this silence crept a tiny object. +Its sharp, black eyes flashed fire in the moonlight and in its small +mouth it carefully carried a cactus burr. + +"Pst! Mary, did you hear something?" It was cousin Jack's hoarse whisper +that broke the silence and awakened Mary from a beautiful dream and her +eyes popped open wide. She snuggled closer to Mother and stared into the +moonlight. All she could hear was a funny, little scratching sound, +unlike any she had ever heard around camp, and she knew not what it +meant. None of her little animal friends made a noise like that. + +Jack was out of bed, had lighted a candle and in his pajamas, was +searching under bunks, tables and chairs for the thing that had caused +the noise. Mary sat up in bed, in time to hear a swift, rustling sound +and see a small object dart out of the tent door. Jack knew it would do +no good to search outside so tumbled back into bed and once more all was +still. + +[Illustration] + +Next morning at breakfast all were wondering who the strange visitor +could have been, but soon the incident was forgotten. Toward noon, Mary +went to a vacant bunk where she kept her clothes, and picked up her new +doll. She removed its dress and looked about for a little, red, wool +gown, of which she was very fond, for the day was chilly and it looked +like rain. But the gown was gone, high and low she looked, but find it +she could not. At last, tired out with searching, she fell asleep, and +the pretty lost gown remained a mystery. + +During the next few days strange things happened. On the day following +one of Dolly's stockings was gone, on the next, its mate; on the next a +pretty little velvet bonnet, and so on for a week. The strangest part of +it was that something or somebody was bringing in little sticks of wood +and cactus burrs and piling them up among the doll clothes. + +At the end of the week, Jack decided to solve the mystery. He said he +was going to sit up all night and see what kind of a thing was coming +into the tent so regularly. He didn't do exactly what he intended to do, +for by ten o'clock his eyelids grew too heavy and he was fast asleep in +the vacant bunk which he had chosen for a hiding place. + +Patter, patter, patter, something was coming. Jack awoke with a start of +expectation. There was no moon tonight, but he had left a candle burning +in a distant corner. It was all he could do to keep back a chuckle when +he saw a big gray rat dart across the floor with a good sized twig in +its mouth. Jack kept perfectly still and the little fellow, not even +seeing him, continued its way across the floor to the bunk on which sat +Jack beside the doll clothes. It clawed its way up the side of the bunk, +dropped the twig, then selected a soft, woolly skirt. Then it turned and +scampered away through the door and out into the sagebrush. + +Jack gave a hearty laugh and at once awakened the whole family and told +them his story. + +"Of course," said Father, "it was a trade rat. Why didn't we think of +that before? The hills are full of tiny holes where they burrow down and +build their nests." + +"But what about the twig?" asked Jack. + +"They always pay for what they take," was the unexpected reply, "they +are great fellows to steal both food and clothing, but they never take +anything without replacing it with a cactus burr, a twig, a chip of +wood, or something of the sort. They seem to think it wrong not to leave +something in place of what they take." + +"But what did they do with all my dolly's clothes?" asked Mary, "surely +they can't wear them." + +"Indeed no, my dear little girl," said Father, "but probably if you +could find their nest, you would see them busy at work lining it with +the soft, downy cloth in preparation for a family of little ones." + +Mary talked and wondered about all these happenings, and you can imagine +her delight when big Joe came running up to camp one day and told her he +had found her rat's nest. The men had been digging on a little hill +preparing to build the foundation of an extra tent. The hill was covered +with rat holes and gopher holes, and Joe lifted up a shovel full of +adobe and underneath was a little cave all carefully lined with warm +clothing. On the soft bed lay mother rat and six tiny little fellows +with eyes just opened. They were peering around with a frightened look +and giving shrill little squeaks of dismay. + +[Illustration: _Joshua Trees_ (_Mary and Bepo_)] + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +A CHAT WITH MRS. COTTONTAIL + + +ONE bright Sunday morning Mary wandered away from camp alone. The fact +was she did not know what to do. At home she always attended church with +Father and Mother, but here the nearest church was eighty miles away, a +bit too far for a morning ride, you see. Father did not work Sunday, and +as it was about the only time he had to chat with Mother, Mary was for +the moment forgotten. + +She followed along a little trail leading over a small hill east of +camp. Upon arriving at the top she noticed a clump of trees beyond, and +they looked so cool and shady that she trotted down the trail and sat +beneath them. + +Now this was a dangerous thing to do, for she could no longer see home, +and there were many trails leading in all directions. A little girl of +six years could hardly be expected to remember the way back. + +She was soon rested and decided to start for home. She was getting +hungry, too. A tiny hill rose from the clump of trees in every +direction, which one ought she to choose? She was not a child to be +daunted by a thing like this, so boldly started up the path she thought +led home. She climbed to the top, but no camp was in sight, no tents, no +horses, nothing to indicate the surroundings of those dear people that +she did want dreadfully to see, O! so quickly. + +"Oh me, oh my, I guess I'm lost!" she cried with a little break in her +voice. "I hope there are no bears in these hills. Oh, why did I run +away, and where is my mamma?" + +She ran back down the hill, throwing herself on the ground under the +trees while the great big tears chased down her rosy cheeks. "Can I help +you, little girl?" said a tiny voice near by, "you are getting your +pretty dress soiled and your hair will be full of sand." + +"Oh, I didn't know rabbits could talk," and Mary's eyes grew big and +round with wonder. There before her stood a little cottontail perched +upon its haunches and blinking at her with its cute little pink eyes. + +"Yes, we desert rabbits could always talk, didn't you know that? But, +where is your mamma and what are you doing out here alone?" + +"I guess I'm lost," answered Mary, "but you live here, can't you find my +home?" + +"No, dear little girl, I can't, and I will tell you why. Mr. Man with +many brothers and sisters lives in your home. Mr. Man has a gun and he +uses that gun to kill poor little rabbits like me. Don't you remember +eating some for dinner yesterday? Well, on that day several of our dear +little playfellows were killed. Now you see I don't care to be eaten, so +must not go near your home, even to show you the way." + +Mary gave a little shudder, for she did remember eating rabbit for +dinner the day before and that she liked it, too; but she made a resolve +never to do so again. + +"But I'll not desert you for all that," continued the strange friend. +"My home is close by and as you are but a wee bit of a girl and have no +gun, I'll take you there." + +Mary was delighted. To visit a real rabbit village and to be taken there +by Mrs. Rabbit, herself, would be a strange adventure, indeed. + +Mrs. Rabbit led the way down a narrow path worn by the little feet of +her numerous family. Mary trotted along behind when suddenly the rabbit +stood up, gave a jump and darted away into the bushes. + +Mary, startled, looked up in surprise. There stood cousin Jack gazing +down at her with an amused twinkle in his eyes; why! she, herself, was +lying, her head pillowed on her chubby arms, directly under the shady +tree where she had thrown herself in despair but a few moments before. + +"Well, little girl, what have you been dreaming about?" he asked. +"Mother is sure you are lost or eaten up by some of your wild friends." + +At this, Mary stood up and looked around indignantly. "Did I really +dream about all those dreadful things Mrs. Cottontail told me?" she +said. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +RABBITS AND CACTUS BURRS + + +MARY and Bepo, the burro, soon became fast friends. Few burros lead as +happy a life as being the constant playmate of a merry child. Bepo +seemed to appreciate this fact and loved Mary accordingly. Many a +prospecting trip did they take on their own account over the network of +trails leading from camp to the numerous shafts and tunnels of the mine. + +You city children and even you country boys and girls would never dream +of all the delightful and interesting things they found. I suppose you +think of the desert as being a flat stretch of sand with nothing on it, +like the maps of the desert of Sahara, in Africa? I know I used to. But +indeed it is not so. Many strange forms of life exist, both plant and +animal, as we shall soon learn. + +This particular morning as they started out, Mary noticed that the +ground was covered with cactus burrs. Did you ever see a cactus burr? +They are similar to those you find in the country, but larger, with +pointed daggers sticking out in all directions, and they grow on a +crooked, prickly stalk or spine in the most comical way imaginable. As +they ambled along they discovered more and yet more of them. Mary, being +an inquisitive child, jumped down from Bepo's back for a closer +inspection of the strange things. Then she discovered a queer thing. She +had seen lots of burrs before but these were different. All the sharp +daggers had been removed, the burrs had been split open and the soft +centers taken out. + +Mary looked all around, who could have done it? No man could have opened +all those burrs, it would have taken him weeks. He would have pricked +his fingers many times and often besides. + +Then she heard a faint rustling in the bushes near by. Softly she +tiptoed behind a clump of sagebrush and peeked over. There was a little +rabbit nibbling away at a cactus burr. He handled it very carefully to +guard against pricks and very daintily nibbled off, one by one, the tiny +daggers. When all were gone he split open the burr, sucked out the +juice, then nibbled up the soft center. So you see, even on this sandy +desert, Nature cares for all her children. + +Mary was so pleased at the sight that she clapped her little hands in +glee and cried, "You dear, cute little thing!" But Mr. Rabbit was not +used to little girls. He looked up suddenly with fright in his tiny pink +eyes, then sprang away into the bushes. + +Mary led Bepo around to a rock and clambered onto his back. As they +slowly stubbed along over the rough trail they surprised many a family +of rabbits and not a few were nibbling away at the prickly cactus burrs. + +You can ride for miles over the desert without finding water, no lakes, +no rivers, no little stream even; and if it were not for the sweet +juices in the center of these burrs many small animals would die of +thirst. + +[Illustration: _Twilight on the Desert_] + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE DANGEROUS PET + + +MARY, with her mother, was taking a short stroll just before sundown. As +they were about to return they espied the largest and strangest lizard +they ever saw. It was nearly two feet long, with a perfectly round body, +a broad, flat head, short legs and a short, blunt tail. It was a chunky +little animal, all covered with a rough skin like an alligator and +dotted with square warts. It seemed very tame and followed Mary into the +tent where she made a warm nest for it in the corner near her bunk. It +was very fond of being petted and would lie and rub its head against +Mary's hand. When Father returned at night he was much pleased with the +strange pet and encouraged Mary to keep it, thinking, of course, that it +was some strange overgrown lizard. The question was, what should they +feed it? First they tried grubs and worms which were not touched; then +bread, meat, insects and all sorts of things, but nothing would he +taste. At last someone thought of eggs and that was apparently just what +the little fellow wanted, and that is what he lived on during the month +Mary had him for her pet. + +At the end of that month big Ben, the foreman, came into Mary's tent to +repair the floor. The first Mary knew that anything was wrong was when +he gave a scream, calling to her to keep away from the tent. Her father, +nearby, ran to see what was the trouble; Ben pointed to the big lizard +and cried, "A gila monster, let us kill him quickly!" Mary and her +parents looked at him in surprise. They had never heard of such an +animal. Ben, however, had spent years on the desert and knew well its +dangers. But he had no gun and all he could do was to take a stick and +push the thing out of doors. Then a queer thing happened. When the hot +sun shone down on the gila monster (pronounced heela) it was no longer +tame and gentle, but would snap at anyone who came near and acted ugly, +continuing to hiss with his mouth wide open, on the lookout for the +first sign of an enemy. + +A squirrel came out of the brush and ran a bit too near, when the big +lizard fastened its fangs in the poor little animal and turned over with +it in its mouth. The poison is in its lower jaw and when he turns over +it flows out. The squirrel died in a very few moments from the effects +of the poison in spite of the fact that Ben had meantime shot the gila +monster through the head. + +Mary's parents were horrified when they realized what a dangerous pet +their little girl had been playing with for so many weeks. They +determined to seek Ben's advice hereafter before housing any more +strange animals. + +But Mary was not in great danger for generally the little reptiles are +tame indoors, but out of doors in the sunshine they become cross and +ugly and their bite is more dangerous than that of a rattlesnake. + +[Illustration: _Palm Springs_] + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +A VISIT TO PALM SPRINGS + + +MOTHER was unused to the desert, so Father, having arranged his business +so he could leave it with Big Ben, the foreman, decided to take a +vacation and all were going over to Palm Springs for a few days. + +Now, Palm Springs is in California near the great Mountain of San +Jacinto and it took a day and a half to get there. It was great fun for +Mary and Jack to get into a sleeping car and go speeding along over the +desert again. They recognized many of their old friends on the way, most +of whom they knew nothing about the last time they rode on a train. Then +it grew dark and they could no longer see out of the window. + +The next morning after breakfast the conductor opened the door and +called out, "Palm Springs." + +They hurriedly gathered together their bags and suitcases and left the +train. + +My! but wasn't it cold, and didn't the wind blow? Folks could hardly +stand straight and the wind was blowing right off the snow-capped +mountains that were all around the place, making it seem colder still. +Mary was hurried into the stage and before they had gone a mile their +faces were covered with sand blowing off the desert and you could never +have told that their clothes had ever been clean. + +Palm Springs itself was five miles from the station, but suddenly the +wind stopped blowing and it was warm as summer, then pretty soon they +heard dogs barking and rode right through an Indian village. + +Some of the squaws were making baskets, but most of them were out in the +fields working just like men. Imagine Mamma doing work like that. It was +interesting to see them, though, especially the little papooses being +carried in a little box fastened to the mother's back. + +Just beyond was Palm Springs settlement itself, with lots of tents, +several houses, a store and a hotel. They stopped at the hotel, and +after dinner looked around the funny little store where they sold a +little of everything while a phonograph ground out wheezy music. They +visited the funny little cottages with their roofs and sides all covered +with big palm leaves instead of boards. Then they went up to the hot +springs. + +There was a stream of water shooting up in the air part of the time, but +generally just bubbling up a little higher than the pond itself, which +was about six feet wide and ten feet long. It didn't look deep, but the +man at the springs told them the center shaft was sometimes as big as a +well and no one knew how deep. Father had been there before and he +wanted to take Mary into the spring, so with Jack they hired bathing +suits and went down. It was very funny. They thought, of course, it was +going to be deep, but the bottom was hard sand, and the water just +covered their ankles. Father took Mary in first, but the water did not +become deeper, but all at once the sand gave way. Father said it was +quick sand which somewhat frightened her, but he didn't seem scared so +she tried not to be. They went down and down into the sand which seemed +to tighten around them, when all at once, when Mary was up to her +shoulders, the spring gave a gurgle and tossed them out into shallow +water. Mary was frightened, but the rest laughed at her, especially +Jack, who was fourteen and thought he was almost a man. He said he could +walk around in it all right--the old water could not toss him up like +that. It was just bubbling over a little then, so he marched boldly in. +But when he felt the warm watery sand hugging him tighter and tighter +and sucking him down, he thought surely he was lost and wished he had +not bragged. But just then the spring gurgled louder and a high stream +shot up and in it was Cousin Jack, who landed safe and sound beside +them. I can tell you he was a happy boy. + +They soon became accustomed to the idea and spent an hour of fun wading +in and being gently but firmly tossed out. Then they went back to Dr. +Murray's Hotel where Mother met them at the door. After a supper of +fresh eggs, nice biscuits, strawberries and cream, they retired to their +tent and when all were in bed Father rolled up the sides so they could +look out at the stars and breathe the fresh, warm air softly blown to +them by the gentle mountain breezes. + +[Illustration: _The Road Runner_] + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE ROAD-RUNNER + + +OF all Mary's pets she liked her road-runners best. Did you ever see a +road-runner? It makes its home on the desert where you would find it +impossible to get food, yet this little bird finds plenty and leads a +happy existence. He looks much like a pheasant with broad wings, a long, +broad tail and a crest that stands up very stiff and straight. The tail +is very flexible, and many people who have lived on the desert a long +time, say they can almost tell what the road-runner's thoughts are by +the way he holds his tail. If you can make friends with the little bird +and get near enough to it you can see the beautiful colors in its +feathery coat. The olive green wings are edged with white, and the crest +is of dark, deep blue. The bird is about twenty inches long, including +the tail. + +A pair had built a nest in a clump of cactus a short distance from camp. +The first time Mary espied them was the day after her arrival. One came +up over a low ridge and stood looking at Mary with curiosity expressed +in its long, flexible tail. This, of course, aroused Mary's interest and +she hastened away to make friends. But it was not to be. Very quickly +the bird retreated to its cactus patch. But it came again the next day +and the next. + +At first Mary was afraid of frightening it away, but one day it came as +she was eating a thick slice of bread and butter and she tossed it some +crumbs. As before, he scampered away to a safe distance, but there he +stopped. Mary stepped back and waited and pretty soon the little fellow +returned and rapidly ate up all the crumbs. He then gave a little toss +of his tail as if to say "thank you," and went home. + +After this Mary and the little road-runner soon became fast friends, and +later Mary taught him that Cousin Jack was his friend, too. He soon +learned that the big horn that the cook blew three times a day meant +something to eat; and was always on hand to get his share. He would +always save a goodly part of this share and carry it home to his mate. + +Mary and Jack each had a burro and often they would take short rides to +the nearby camps, for Jack was a steady, reliable boy and Mary's father +knew he would take care to see that no harm came to her. + +The trail led by the road-runner's nest and whenever he saw the little +girl and the big boy coming along on their burros he would dart out into +the road and rush ahead at full speed. He could always keep ahead, too. +Try as they might Mary and Jack were unable to get ahead of him. When he +grew weary of the sport he would turn suddenly and hurry into the brush +until they had passed. + +In some ways, though, he was a nuisance. Mary's uncle had sent them a +box containing a dozen chickens so that they could have some fresh eggs +as a change from the cold storage eggs commonly found in mining camps. +Now, the little road-runner would often try to slip into the chicken +yard when no one was looking. He would wait indifferently, promenading +up and down in a dignified manner until one of the hens cackled. He knew +this meant a fresh egg and he would deliberately march up, peck a hole +in the new laid egg and as deliberately swallow the contents. + +[Illustration: _Colorado Desert_ (_Ocatilla in foreground_)] + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +A STRANGE CAPTURE + + +ONE warm day in February a great lazy rattlesnake, over three feet long, +glided out from under a broad, flat rock. It slowly wound its way +through sagebrush and cactus until it found an open space where the hot +rays of the noonday sun fell uninterrupted. + +Here it stretched itself out at full length, and after enjoying the +warmth of the sunshine for a little while, gradually grew drowsy and at +last fell asleep. + +Exactly one hour later, a faint rustling sound was heard. From behind +the same rock peeped out an excited looking little creature. It was no +other than our little friend the road-runner. But why so agitated and +disturbed? Its little tail was bobbing up and down, and its beautiful +bluish-black crest was raised as high as possible. He had spied his +lifelong enemy, the rattlesnake. + +Suddenly, as quickly as he came, he disappeared from sight. He was soon +back, carrying in his beak a cactus burr, which he placed on the ground +near the sleeping snake. Back and forth he went, each time returning +with a prickly burr. Before long he had a hedge entirely surrounding +poor, unsuspecting Mr. Snake. Then one more burr was brought and quietly +dropped on the snake's head. + +Now, the skin of a snake is very sensitive and he immediately woke up. +Of course his first motion rubbed the delicate skin against the prickly +burr. He gave a vicious rattle and started to move away from the +troublesome thing. He struck at one side of the hedge, then another. He +grew more and more angry. He would try to poke his nose between the +burrs, but on being pricked by the sharp points, he would draw back and +try in another place. At last, overcome with anger and mortification, +he drove his poisonous fangs into his own body and soon died. + +Mr. Road-runner, meanwhile, had retreated to a safe distance and was +much interested in all that was happening. When sure the snake was dead, +he cautiously darted up to the hedge and gave the dead snake a series of +sharp pecks with his long beak as an additional safeguard. Then he +settled down and ate a portion, carrying the best part away to his nest +to share with his mate. + +Now, if that snake had kept his temper and not become excited, he might +have realized that by poking his nose under the burrs he could lift them +and get away with only a few scratches. + +However, there are times when even boys and girls let their anger get +the best of them, so why should we expect more wisdom in a poor, foolish +snake! + +Sometimes the snake doesn't kill itself, but only becomes tired out and +lies down motionless, when the little road-runner comes over and pecks +him to death. There are only a few animals, birds or insects who can +kill a rattlesnake, and the road-runner does this about as neatly as +any. + +[Illustration: _A Desert May Party_] + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +A DESERT MAY PARTY + + +"WHY, Mamma, the very idea! Who ever heard of a desert May party?" I +hear some tiny girl exclaim, "A desert is all sand, if there were +flowers there it would not be desert at all." + +Ah, yes, my dear, I used to think so, too, but to Mary it was no +surprise. She had spent the winter on the desert, had seen the heavy +rains, and afterwards had watched how rapidly the sturdy little green +shoots would push their way up through the hard unsympathetic soil. +Generally once a year the desert puts on its party dress and is dotted +with a gorgeous mass of blossoms. + +The rains come at intervals in the winter and early spring and the +heavier and more frequent they are, the greater will be the flower +growth. The March and April rains this year had been heavy. There had +been days when Cousin Jack had come in with his raincoat dripping and +declared that he knew Mt. Kenyon would be washed away. Now and then a +cloudburst would strike terror to Mary's tender heart. She had gone out +when the weather cleared and watched the warm earth rise up and break, +while the little green things peeped through and took their first look +at the sun. The ground was always warm and it was amazing to see how +rapidly things would grow if you but gave them water. + +The thing that now troubled Mary was the fact that she had no one to ask +to share her party. Of course there was Jack, but Jack was only a boy +and a May party, above all else, means girls. + +It is strange what unexpected things happen at times, even in lonesome +mining camps. The thought had barely entered her little curly head when +she looked away over toward the mountains and saw a big, lumbering +wagon, drawn by four strong horses, come creeping down the road. Long +before it reached camp she could see that there were several people on +it and then she saw the children. + +There were four of them, three little blue eyed girls with flaxen hair +and a slightly older brother with the same light hair but who looked at +the world through a pair of big, laughing brown eyes. They were staying +twenty miles up the valley with their parents who had charge of a small +cattle ranch, and Mother and children were having a holiday going to +town with Father. They stopped to water the horses and you may be sure +that it did not take long for the children to become acquainted. Not +many little folks live on the desert and playmates are almost unknown. +As it turned out, Father and Mother went on to town alone and left the +children to enjoy one another until their return on the following day. + +Mary's mother was always planning surprises, so when she appeared with +two large lunch baskets heaped with goodies, Mary realized that this +would be a May day party unlike any she had ever before seen. Six burros +were kept ever ready in the corral and these were caught and saddled for +the children. Mother rode her Indian pony, a Christmas gift from Father. +As they passed the mill and wound up the trail by the main shaft of the +mine, the men were changing shift and as the cage swung up to the +surface the miners called a cheery good-bye, for they were very fond of +Mary. + +They ascended the next rise and what they saw was fairyland. They were +at the entrance of a canyon. A tiny stream of water ran in the center +and beside it wound a narrow trail. Foothills rolled up on either side +and the steep walls were a mass of flowers. Wild heliotrope, thistle, +poppies, white, pink and yellow gillias, long-leaved wild tobacco, with +its rich yellow blossoms, all were massed together and far more +beautifully arranged than the stiff gardens in Central Park. + +"Aunt Louise," called Jack to Mamma, who was riding behind with the +little girls, "isn't that a campfire up on the next hill?" + +"No, Jack," she replied, "not a fire, only a smoke tree. That is why it +received its name. The branches are grayish with tiny sage-green leaves +and at a distance it is often mistaken for a fire as it is all so +delicate and filmy." + +By this time Jack had ridden ahead for a closer inspection of the bush +and startled us all by a little cry of pain. + +"Be careful, Jack, it is also called the porcupine tree by the miners," +called Mother, "the tiny leaves are nothing more than very sharp and +prickly spines." + +"Why is it that so many desert plants have stickers and thorns?" asked +Tom, the rancher's son. + +"Why, can't you see for yourself, Tom?" called back Jack, "if they +weren't sharp and prickly all these little desert animals would tear +them up when they were young and tender and they would never grow to be +full sized." + +"Yes," said Mother, "it is simply the way that nature protects her young +so that it will not be destroyed in infancy. There are still other +protections necessary on the desert for the hot sun would otherwise kill +many plants. A large number are covered with a soft down which is really +a mass of tiny air cells that keep the stems and leaves cool and protect +them from the hot sun's rays." + +"And see, there is a creosote bush, its rich green leaves are covered +with a kind of varnish which keeps them cool the same as the hairs would +do. See how the recent rains have brought out a mass of blossoms at the +tip of every branch, what a delicate flower, held in a pale green cup. +And there is another smoke tree, nearer the water and so it has +blossomed earlier, every point has a gorgeous purple flower." + +"See the funny bunch of sticks over here, Mamma," called Mary, "they +look like a lot of candles sticking up." + +"And that is just what they are called, my dear, ocatilla, or candle +cactus. They have no leaves for the greater part of the year, but after +the rains they leave out and are soon covered with those beautiful +scarlet bells." + +"Yes," answered Mary, "they look like some beautiful winged bird just +about to fly away. And how tall the candles are, lots higher than our +tents back in camp." + +It would take too long to tell you about all the desert beauties that +the children saw, they all agreed that nothing as beautiful was ever +seen "back East" where it rains half the time. + +At noon they sat down under a clump of mesquite and ate the splendid +luncheon. The pure fresh air had made them ravenously hungry. The +mesquite was a low, stocky tree which did not grow high but spread out +in every direction, branches thick with foliage. + +"Why don't the old tree grow up higher and not bother about having so +many side branches?" asked Jack. + +Then Mother told him. "Why, can't you see?" she asked. "The sun is so +hot that it kills the tiny buds on the end of the branch; but the tree +is determined to grow, just the same, so it sends out side buds, where +the sun's rays are not as hot and the short, stubby tree is the result." + +"At any rate it makes a fine shade and that is all we need just now," +answered Jack. + +They rested under the wide spreading branches until the sun shone a bit +less fiercely, then they slowly rode homeward through the beautiful +blossoms, arriving just at dusk, very hungry, a little tired, but happy +in the thought that they had visited one of the strangest and most +beautiful corners of the earth. + + * * * * * + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + +The original text did not contain a table of contents. One was created for +this text. + +Khaki is spelled kakhi in this text. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Tales of The Desert, by +Ethel Twycross Foster + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE TALES OF THE DESERT *** + +***** This file should be named 30686.txt or 30686.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/6/8/30686/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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