lifted in veils, like thin smoke. Denton had told us that in summer the
heat came in currents, in waves. It blasted leaves, burned trees to
death as well as men. Prospectors watched for the leaden haze that
thickened over the mountains, knowing then no man could dare the
terrible sun. That day would be a hazed and glaring hell, leaden,
copper, with sun blazing a sky of molten iron.

A long sandy slope of mesquite extended down to the bare crinkly floor
of the valley, and here the descent to a lower level was scarcely
perceptible. The walking was bad. Little mounds in the salty crust made
it hard to place a foot on the level. This crust appeared fairly strong.
But when it rang hollow under our boots, then I stepped very cautiously.
The color was a dirty gray and yellow. Far ahead I could see a dazzling
white plain that looked like frost or a frozen river. The atmosphere was
deceptive, making this plain seem far away and then close at hand.

The excessively difficult walking and the thickness of the air tired me,
so I plumped myself down to rest, and used my note-book as a means to
conceal from the tireless Nielsen that I was fatigued. Always I found
this a very efficient excuse, and for that matter it was profitable for
me. I have forgotten more than I have ever written.

Rather overpowering, indeed, was it to sit on the floor of Death Valley,
miles from the slopes that appeared so far away. It was flat, salty,
alkali or borax ground, crusted and cracked. The glare hurt my eyes. I
felt moist, hot, oppressed, in spite of a rather stiff wind. A dry odor
pervaded the air, slightly like salty dust. Thin dust devils whirled on
the bare flats. A valley-wide mirage shone clear as a mirror along the
desert floor to the west, strange, deceiving, a thing both unreal and
beautiful. The Panamints towered a wrinkled red grisly mass, broken by
rough canyons, with long declines of talus like brown glaciers. Seamed
and scarred! Indestructible by past ages, yet surely wearing to ruin!
From this point I could not see the snow on the peaks. The whole
mountain range seemed an immense red barrier of beetling rock. The
Funeral Range was farther away and therefore more impressive. Its effect
was stupendous. Leagues of brown chocolate slopes, scarred by slashes of
yellow and cream, and shadowed black by sailing clouds, led up to the
magnificently peaked and jutted summits.

Splendid as this was and reluctant as I felt to leave I soon joined