rown furrow on the
pale gray plain, and seems to pierce the mountains beyond. Up to within an
eighth of a mile of Garland City, there is no trace of human habitation.
Knowing that the city must be near, you look in all directions for a
glimpse of it; the hills ahead of you rise sharply across your way. Where
is the city? At your very feet, but you do not suspect it.

The sunset light was fading when we reached the edge of the ravine in
which the city lies. It was like looking unawares over the edge of a
precipice; the gulch opened beneath us as suddenly as if the earth had
that moment parted and made it. With brakes set firm, we drove cautiously
down the steep road; the ravine twinkled with lights, and almost seemed to
flutter with white tents and wagon tops. At the farther end it widened,
opening out on an inlet of the San Luis Park; and, in its center, near
this widening mouth, lay the twelve-days-old city. A strange din arose
from it.

"What is going on?" we exclaimed. "The building of the city," was the
reply. "Twelve days ago there was not a house here. To-day there are one
hundred and five, and in a week more there will be two hundred; each man
is building his own home, and working day and night to get it done ahead
of his neighbor. There are four sawmills going constantly, but they can't
turn out lumber half fast enough. Everybody has to be content with a board
at a time. If it were not for that, there would have been twice as many
houses done as there are."

We drove on down the ravine. A little creek on our right was half hid in
willow thickets. Hundreds of white tents gleamed among them: tents with
poles; tents made by spreading sailcloth over the tops of bushes; round
tents; square tents; big tents; little tents; and for every tent a camp
fire; hundreds of white-topped wagons, also, at rest for the night, their
great poles propped up by sticks, and their mules and drivers lying and
standing in picturesque groups around them.

It was a scene not to be forgotten. Louder and louder sounded the chorus
of the hammers as we drew near the center of the "city;" more and more the
bustle thickened; great ox teams swaying unwieldily about, drawing logs
and planks, backing up steep places; all sorts of vehicles driving at
reckless speed up and down; men carrying doors; men walking along inside
of window sashes,--the easiest way to carry them; men shoveling; men
wheeling wheelbarrows; not a man standing still; not a ma