His act was rather
that of a harmless lunatic than an enemy. We were
not so new to the country as not to know that the
solitary life of many a plainsman had a tendency
to develop eccentricities of conduct and character
not always easily distinguishable from mental aber-
ration. A man is like a tree: in a forest of his fellows
he will grow as straight as his generic and individual
nature permits; alone in the open, he yields to the
deforming stresses and tortions that environ him.
Some such thoughts were in my mind as I watched
the man from the shadow of my hat, pulled low to
shut out the firelight. A witless fellow, no doubt, but
what could he be doing there in the heart of a
desert?
Having undertaken to tell this story, I wish that
I could describe the man's appearance; that would
be a natural thing to do. Unfortunately, and some-
what strangely, I find myself unable to do so with
any degree of confidence, for afterward no two of
us agreed as to what he wore and how he looked;
and when I try to set down my own impressions they
elude me. Anyone can tell some kind of story;
narration is one of the elemental powers of the race.
But the talent for description is a gift.
Nobody having broken silence the visitor went on
to say:
'This country was not then what it is now. There
was not a ranch between the Gila and the Gulf.
There was a little game here and there in the moun-
tains, and near the infrequent water-holes grass
enough to keep our animals from starvation.
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