never to tell an incredible truth
has branded them as hardy and impenitent liars, I purpose to note here a
few of the more remarkable illusions by which my own sense of sight has
been befooled by the freaks of the enchanter.

It is apart from my purpose to explain the mirage scientifically, and not
altogether in my power. Every schoolboy can do so, I suppose, to the
satisfaction of his teacher if the teacher has not himself seen the
phenomenon, or has seen it only in the broken, feeble and evanescent
phases familiar to the overland passenger; but for my part I am unable to
understand how the simple causes affirmed in the text-books sufficiently
account for the infinite variety and complexity of some of the effects
said to be produced by them. But of this the reader shall judge for
himself.

One summer morning in the upper North Platte country I rose from my
blankets, performed the pious acts of sun-worship by yawning toward the
east, kicked together the parted embers of my camp-fire, and bethought me
of water for my ablutions. We had gone into bivouac late in the night on
the open plain, and without any clear notion of where we were. There were
a half-dozen of us, our chief on a tour of inspection of the new military
posts in Wyoming. I accompanied the expedition as surveyor. Having an
aspiration for water I naturally looked about to see what might be the
prospect of obtaining it, and to my surprise and delight saw a long line
of willows, apparently some three hundred yards away. Willows implied
water, and snatching up a camp-kettle I started forward without taking the
trouble to put on my coat and hat. For the first mile or two I preserved a
certain cheerful hopefulness; but when the sun had risen farther toward
the meridian and began to affect my bare head most uncomfortably, and the
picketed horses at the camp were hull down on the horizon in the rear, and
the willows in front increased their pace out of all proportion to mine, I
began to grow discouraged and sat down on a stone to wish myself back.
Perceiving that the willows also had halted for breath I determined to
make a dash at them, leaving the camp-kettle behind to make its way back
to camp as best it could. I was now traveling "flying light," and had no
doubt of my ability to overtake the enemy, which had, however, disappeared
over the crest of a low sandhill. Ascending this I was treated to a
surprise. Right ahead of me lay a barren waste of sand extending