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and felt better。
The fierce perpendicular rays of the sun beat down。 The air under the
shed grew stuffier and more oppressive； but it was the only patch of shade
in all that pink and red furnace of a little valley。 The Tenderfoot
discovered a pair of horse…clippers； and； becoming slightly foolish with the
heat； insisted on our barbering his head。 We told him it was cooler with
hair than without； and that the flies and sun would be offered thus a
beautiful opportunity； but without avail。 So we clipped him；leaving；
however； a beautiful long scalp…lock in the middle of his crown。 He
looked like High…low…kickapoo…waterpot； chief of the Wam…wams。 After
a while he discovered it； and was unhappy。
Shortly the riders began to come in； jingling up to the shed； with a
rattle of spurs and bit…chains。 There they unsaddled their horses； after
which； with great unanimity； they soused their heads in the horse…trough。
The chief； a six…footer； wearing beautifully decorated gauntlets and a pair
of white buckskin chaps； went so far as to say it was a little warm for the
time of year。 In the freshness of evening； when frazzled nerves had
regained their steadiness； he returned to smoke and yarn with us and tell us
of the peculiarities of the cattle business in the Cuyamas。 At present he
and his men were riding the great mountains； driving the cattle to the
lowlands in anticipation of a rodeo the following week。 A rodeo under
that sun！
We slept in the ranch vehicles； so the air could get under us。 While
the stars still shone； we crawled out； tired and unrefreshed。 The
Tenderfoot and I went down the valley after the horses。 While we looked；
the dull pallid gray of dawn filtered into the darkness； and so we saw our
animals； out of proportion； monstrous in the half light of that earliest
morning。 Before the range riders were even astir we had taken up our
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journey； filching thus a few hours from the inimical sun。
Until ten o'clock we traveled in the valley of the Cuyamas。 The river
was merely a broad sand and stone bed； although undoubtedly there was
water below the surface。 California rivers are said to flow bottom up。
To the northward were mountains typical of the arid countries；boldly
defined； clear in the edges of their folds； with sharp shadows and hard；
uncompromising surfaces。 They looked brittle and hollow； as though
made of papier mache and set down in the landscape。 A long four hours'
noon we spent beneath a live…oak near a tiny spring。 I tried to hunt； but
had to give it up。 After that I lay on my back and shot doves as they
came to drink at the spring。 It was better than walking about； and quite
as effective as regards supper。 A band of cattle filed stolidly in； drank；
and filed as stolidly away。 Some half…wild horses came to the edge of the
hill； stamped； snorted； essayed a tentative advance。 Them we drove
away； lest they decoy our own animals。 The flies would not let us sleep。
Dozens of valley and mountain quail called with maddening cheerfulness
and energy。 By a mighty exercise of will we got under way again。 In
an hour we rode out into what seemed to be a grassy foot…hill country；
supplied with a most refreshing breeze。
The little round hills of a few hundred feet rolled gently away to the
artificial horizon made by their closing in。 The trail meandered white
and distinct through the clear fur…like brown of their grasses。 Cattle
grazed。 Here and there grew live…oaks； planted singly as in a park。
Beyond we could imagine the great plain； grading insensibly into these
little hills。
And then all at once we surmounted a slight elevation； and found that
we had been traveling on a plateau； and that these apparent little hills were
in reality the peaks of high mountains。
We stood on the brink of a wide smooth velvet… creased range that
dipped down and down to miniature canons far below。 Not a single little
boulder broke the rounded uniformity of the wild grasses。 Out from
beneath us crept the plain； sluggish and inert with heat。
Threads of trails； dull white patches of alkali； vague brown areas of
brush； showed indeterminate for a little distance。 But only for a little
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THE MOUNTAINS
distance。 Almost at once they grew dim； faded in the thickness of
atmosphere； lost themselves in the mantle of heat that lay palpable and
brown like a shimmering changing veil； hiding the distance in mystery and
in dread。 It was a land apart； a land to be looked on curiously from the
vantage…ground of safety；as we were looking on it from the shoulder of
the mountain；and then to be turned away from； to be left waiting behind
its brown veil for what might come。 To abandon the high country；
deliberately to cut loose from the known； deliberately to seek the presence
that lay in wait；all at once it seemed the height of grotesque perversity。
We wanted to turn on our heels。 We wanted to get back to our hills and
fresh breezes and clear water； to our beloved cheerful quail； to our trails
and the sweet upper air。
For perhaps a quarter of an hour we sat our horses； gazing down。
Some unknown disturbance lazily rifted the brown veil by ever so little。
We saw； lying inert and languid； obscured by its own rank steam； a great
round lake。 We knew the water to be bitter； poisonous。 The veil drew
together again。 Wes shook himself and sighed； 〃There she is；damn
her！〃 said he。
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VI
THE INFERNO