the door of the tent flap.

Moisture steams up from the river like a morning incense to the sun. The
Tucson Range of mountains shimmers. Giant cactus stand ghost-like,
centuries old, amid the mesquite bush; and in the columnar hole of the
cactus trees you see the holes where the little desert wren has pecked
through for water in a waterless season.

Then, before you know it, you are in the Papago Indian Reserve. The
finest basket makers of the world, these Papagoes are. They make baskets
of such close weave that they will hold water, and you see the Papago
Indian women with jars--ollas--of water on their head going up and down
from the water pools. Basket makers weave in front of the sun-baked
adobe walls where hang the red strings of chile like garlands. On the
whole, the Indian faces are very happy and good. They do not care for
wealth, these children of the Desert. Give them "this day their daily
bread," and they are content, and thank God.

Then the mountains close in a cup round the shimmering valley. In the
center of the valley rises an island of rock, the rock of the Grotto of
the Virgin; and a white dome and twin towers show, glare white, almost
unearthly, with arches pointing to Heaven, and lions in white all along
the roof typifying the strength that is of God. There is a dome in the
middle of the roof line--that is the Moorish influence brought in by
Spain. There are twin towers on each side; and in the towers on the
right hand side are three brass bells to call to work and matins and
vespers. It may be said here that the French Mission may always be known
by its single spire and cross; the Spanish Mission by its twin towers
and bells. The French Mission rings its bell. The Spanish Mission
strikes its bells with a hammer or gong. One utters cheer. The other
sounds a rich, low, mellow call to worship. The walls and pillars and
arches are all marble white; and you are looking on one of the most
ancient Missions of the New World--San Xavier del Bac, of Tucson,
Arizona.

The whole effect is so oriental as to be startling. The white dome might
be Indian or Persian, but the pointed arches and minarets are
unmistakably Moorish--that is, Moorish brought across by Spain. The
entrance is under an arched white wall, and the courtyard looks out
behind through arched white gateway to the distant mountains.

Here four sisters of St. Joseph conduct a school for the little
Papagoes; and what a school it is! It might do