ver the dreariest and most desolate
country. It was not only dreary, it was positively hostile in its
attitude towards every living thing except snakes, centipedes and
spiders. They seemed to flourish in those surroundings.

Sometimes either Major Worth or Jack would come and drive along a few
miles in the ambulance with me to cheer me up, and they allowed me to
abuse the country to my heart's content. It seemed to do me much good.
The desert was new to me then. I had not read Pierre Loti's wonderful
book, "Le Desert," and I did not see much to admire in the desolate
waste lands through which we were travelling. I did not dream of the
power of the desert, nor that I should ever long to see it again. But
as I write, the longing possesses me, and the pictures then indelibly
printed upon my mind, long forgotten amidst the scenes and events of
half a lifetime, unfold themselves like a panorama before my vision and
call me to come back, to look upon them once more.

CHAPTER VIII. LEARNING HOW TO SOLDIER

"The grasses failed, and then a mass Of dry red cactus ruled the land:
The sun rose right above and fell, As falling molten from the skies, And
no winged thing was seen to pass." Joaquin Miller.

We made fourteen miles the next day, and went into camp at a place
called Freeze-wash, near some old silver mines. A bare and lonesome
spot, where there was only sand to be seen, and some black,
burnt-looking rocks. From under these rocks, crept great tarantulas, not
forgetting lizards, snakes, and not forgetting the scorpion, which ran
along with its tail turned up ready to sting anything that came in its
way. The place furnished good water, however, and that was now the most
important thing.

The next day's march was a long one. The guides said: "Twenty-eight
miles to Willow Grove Springs."

The command halted ten minutes every hour for rest, but the sun poured
down upon us, and I was glad to stay in the ambulance. It was at these
times that my thoughts turned back to the East and to the blue sea and
the green fields of God's country. I looked out at the men, who were
getting pretty well fagged, and at the young officers whose uniforms
were white with dust, and Frau Weste's words about glaenzendes Elend
came to my mind. I fell to thinking: was the army life, then, only
"glittering misery," and had I come to participate in it?

Some of the old soldiers had given out, and had to be put on the army
wagons. I was getti