was one of the things that
would not bear investigation; but the evidence still exists in Navajo
Land, with more, which space forbids here but which comes under the
sixty-fifth Article of War. The officer guilty of this outrage has since
been examined as to his sanity and brought himself under possibilities
of a penitentiary term on another count. He is still at middle age a
subordinate officer.

These are other secrets of the Painted Desert you will daily con if you
go leisurely across the great lone Reserve and do not take with you the
lightning-express habits of urban life.

For instance, in the account of the Cave Dwellers of the Frijoles
reference was made to the Indian legend of "the heavens raining fire"
(volcanic action) and driving the prehistoric Pueblo peoples from their
ancient dwelling. Mrs. Day of St. Michael's, who has forgotten more lore
than the scientists will ever pick up, told me of a great chunk of lava
found by Mr. Day in which were embedded some perfect specimens of
corn--which seems to sustain the Indian legend of volcanic outburst
having destroyed the ancient nations here. The slab was sent East to a
museum in Brooklyn. Some scientists explain these black slabs as a
fusion of adobe.

* * * * *

As we had not yet learned how to do the Painted Desert, we went forward
by the mail wagon from St. Michael's to Mr. Hubbell's famous trading
post at Ganado. Mail bags were stacked up behind us, and a one-eyed
Navajo driver sat in front. We were in the Desert, but our way led
through the park-like vistas of the mast-high yellow pine, a region of
such high, rare, dry air that not a blade of grass grows below the
conifers. The soil is as dry as dust and fine as flour; and there is an
all-pervasive odor, not of burning, but of steaming resin, or pine sap
heated to evaporation; but it is not hot. The mesa runs up to an
altitude of almost 9,000 feet, with air so light that you feel a buoyant
lift to your heart-beats and a clearing of the cobwebs from your brain.
You can lose lots of sleep here and not feel it. All heaviness has gone
out of body and soul. In fact, when you come back to lower levels, the
air feels thick and hard to breathe. And you can go hard here and not
tire, and stand on the crest of mesas that anywhere else would be
considered mountains, and wave your arms above the top of the world. So
high you are--you did not realize it--that the rim of encircling
moun