l that only nature can inspire.

Looking out from some commanding eminence, a wide spreading and
diversified landscape is presented to view. Though hard and rugged,
the picture, as seen at a distance, looks soft and smooth and its
details of form and color make an absorbing study.

The eye is quick to note the different hues that appear in the field of
vision and readily selects five predominating colors, namely, gray,
green, brown, purple and blue, which mingle harmoniously in various
combinations with almost every other color that is known. The most
brilliant lights, sombre shadows, exquisite tints and delicate tones
are seen which, if put on canvas and judged by the ordinary, would be
pronounced exaggerated and impossible by those unfamiliar with the
original.

The prevailing color is gray, made by the dry grass and sandy soil, and
extends in every direction to the limit of vision. The gramma grass of
the and region grows quickly and turns gray instead of brown, as
grasses usually do when they mature. It gives to the landscape a
subdued and quiet color, which is pleasing to the eye and makes the
ideal background in a picture.

Into this warp of gray is woven a woof of green, spreading in irregular
patches in all directions. It is made by the chaparral, which is
composed of a variety of desert plants that are native to the soil and
can live on very little water. It consists of live oak, pinion,
mesquite, desert willow, greasewood, sage brush, palmilla, maguey,
yucca and cacti and is mostly evergreen.

The admixture of gray and green prevails throughout the year except
during the summer rainy season, when, if the rains are abundant, the
gray disappears almost entirely, and the young grass springs up as by
magic, covering the whole country with a carpet of living green. In
the midst of the billowy grass myriads of wild flowers bloom, and stand
single or shoulder to shoulder in masses of solid color by the acre.

Upon the far mountains is seen the sombre brown in the bare rocks. The
whole region was at one time violently disturbed by seismic force and
the glow of its quenched fires has even yet scarcely faded away. Large
masses of igneous rocks and broad streams of vitrified lava bear mute
testimony of the change, when, by some mighty subterranean force, the
tumultuous sea was rolled back from its pristine bed and, in its stead,
lofty mountains lifted their bald beads above the surrounding
desolation, an