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mad races to head the mustangs； the fierce combats to subdue these raging
wild beasts to the saddle； the spectacle of the round…up with its brutish
multitudes and its graceful riders； the dust and monotony and excitement
and glory of the Trail； and especially the hundreds of incidental and
gratuitous adventures of bears and antelope； of thirst and heat； of the joy
of taking care of one's selfall these would have filled our days with the
glittering； changing throng of the unusual。 But to Senor Johnson it
had become an old story。 After the days of construction the days of
accomplishment seemed to him lean。 His men did the work and reaped
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the excitement。 Senor Johnson never thought now of riding the wild
horses； of swinging the rope coiled at his saddle horn； or of rounding
ahead of the flying herds。 His inspections were business inspections。
The country was tame。 The leather chaps with the silver conchas hung
behind the door。 The Colt's forty…five depended at the head of the bed。
Senor Johnson rode in mufti。 Of his cowboy days persisted still the high…
heeled boots and spurs； the broad Stetson hat； and the fringed buckskin
gauntlets。 The Colt's forty…five had been the last to go。 Finally one
evening Senor Johnson received an express package。 He opened it
before the undemonstrative Parker。 It proved to contain a pocket 〃gun〃
a nickel…plated； thirty…eight calibre Smith & Wesson 〃five…shooter。〃
Senor Johnson examined it a little doubtfully。 In comparison with the
six…shooter it looked like a toy。 〃How do you； like her？〃 he inquired；
handing the weapon to Parker。 Parker turned it over and over； as a
child a rattle。 Then he returned it to its owner。
〃Senor；〃 said he； 〃if ever you shoot me with that little old gun； AND I
find it out the same day； I'll just raise hell with you！〃
〃I don't reckon she'd INJURE a man much；〃 agreed the Senor； 〃but
perhaps she'd call his attention。〃
However； the 〃little old gun〃 took its place； not in Senor Johnson's hip
pocket； but inside the front waistband of his trousers； and the old shiny
Colt's forty…five； with its worn leather 〃Texas style〃 holster； became a
bedroom ornament。 Thus； from a frontiersman dropped Senor
Johnson to the status of a property owner。 In a general way he had to
attend to his interests before the cattlemen's association； he had to arrange
for the buying and shipping； and the rest was leisure。 He could now have
gone away somewhere as far as time went。 So can a fish live in treesas
far as time goes。 And in the daily riding； riding； riding over the range he
found the opportunity for abstract thought which the frontier life had
crowded aside。
CHAPTER TWO THE SHAPES OF ILLUSION
Every day； as always； Senor Johnson rode abroad over the land。 His
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surroundings had before been accepted casually as a more or less pertinent
setting of action and condition。 Now he sensed some of the fascination
of the Arizona desert。 He noticed many things before unnoticed。 As
he jingled loosely along on his cow…horse； he observed how the animal
waded fetlock deep in the gorgeous orange California poppies； and then he
looked up and about； and saw that the rich colour carpeted the landscape
as far as his eye could reach； so that it seemed as though he could ride on
and on through them to the distant Chiricahuas。 Only； close under the
hills； lay； unobtrusive； a narrow streak of grey。 And in a few hours he
had reached the streak of grey； and ridden out into it to find himself the
centre of a limitless alkali plain； so that again it seemed the valley could
contain nothing else of importance。
Looking back； Senor Johnson could discern a tenuous ribbon of
orangethe poppies。 And perhaps ahead a little shadow blotted the face
of the alkali； which； being reached and entered； spread like fire until it； too；
filled the whole plain； until it； too； arrogated to itself the right of typifying
Soda Springs Valley as a shimmering prairie of mesquite。 Flowered
upland； dead lowland； brush； cactus； volcanic rock； sand； each of these for
the time being occupied the whole space； broad as the sea。 In the circlet
of the mountains was room for many infinities。
Among the foothills Senor Johnson； for the first time； appreciated
colour。 Hundreds of acres of flowers filled the velvet creases of the little
hills and washed over the smooth； rounded slopes so accurately in the
placing and manner of tinted shadows that the mind had difficulty in
believing the colour not to have been shaded in actually by free sweeps of
some gigantic brush。 A dozen shades of pinks and purples； a dozen of
blues； and then the flame reds； the yellows； and the vivid greens。 Beyond
were the mountains in their glory of volcanic rocks； rich as the tapestry of
a Florentine palace。 And； modifying all the others； the tinted atmosphere
of the south…west； refracting the sun through the infinitesimal earth motes
thrown up constantly by the wind devils of the desert； drew before the
scene a delicate and gauzy veil of lilac； of rose； of saffron； of amethyst； or
of mauve； according to the time of day。 Senor Johnson discovered that
looking at the landscape upside down accentuated the colour effects。 It
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amused him vastly suddenly to bend over his saddle horn； the top of his
head nearly touching his horse's mane。 The distant mountains at once
started out into redder prominence； their shadows of purple deepened to
the royal colour； the rose veil thickened。 〃She's the prettiest country
God ever made！〃 exclaimed Senor Johnson with entire