n starve to
death.

Dana describes violent storms of wind and rain, mainly from the
southeast, which the ship, anchored a few miles off the coast, or
cruising up and down, experienced at all times of year--one or more
storms each week, often lasting for days. One December he describes it
as raining every hour for the whole month. The dread of the southeasters
was ever present with the sailors. One of these, lasting three days,
which came out of a cloudless sky, blew the sails to tatters. Nowadays a
southeast storm of half a day is, according to my experience, an
uncommon occurrence. To-day scarcely a drop of rain falls here from
April till November, yet Dana describes many heavy rains in August. At
present, in some of the interior valleys, where they grow alfalfa by
means of irrigation, I see herds of well-kept dairy cows. In the season
of rains the grass springs up and for a time cattle do well, but during
the long dry season there is no pasturage save dry pasturage.

Although winter is supposed to be the rainy season here, I have been
here during three seasons and have so far seen only light rains. To-day
(December 16th) the earth is like powder as deep down as you care to
dig. Yesterday I saw a man dragging in grain, and a great cloud of dust
streamed out behind him. Ten or more years ago there was a very heavy
rainfall in this locality that inundated large sections of the country
and destroyed much property, the dry San Diego River getting out of
bounds and carrying away bridges and floating houses on its banks. But
it has been as dry as a highway ever since. It is clear that when the
big rains do come they are more sporadic and uncertain than formerly.

VIII. ALL-SEEING NATURE

Sitting by a flat rock one summer morning, on my home acres in the
Catskills, I noticed that the wild strawberry-vines sent out their
runners over the rock, the surface of which is on a level with the turf,
just as over the ground. Of course they could not take root, but they
went through all the motions of taking root; the little clusters of
leaves developed at intervals, the rootlets showed their points or stood
at "attention," and the runners pushed out two or three feet over the
barren surface and then seemed to hesitate like a traveler in the desert
whose strength begins to fail. The first knot, or, one might say, the
first encampment, was about one foot from the last one upon the turf,
the next one about eight inches farther in;