Arizona republican., 1915-07-26
UPON A PANHANDLE
 HILL IN THE EVENING

Down in the Texas Panhandle just Ls.~n oG our nttIe ran~n mousse, or Chicken Creek Camp We call 1t. is d hill overlooking our pasture. Per haps the pasture contains forty thou sand acres; actual acres do not
 matter much. but it is q very big
 pasture. and there are other big ones around it, and a man on horse d
 mile or so away is only a speck on the horizon.
 While man may have put fence around lot of the country, nature is very much the proprietor, and the grass. the wild flowers. the evening
 wind and the mocking bird over in
 the thorn tree are in full and peace able possession of the country. Your warranty deed or leasehold means
 very little to them.
 Just why I drifted up on this hill few evenings ago is not impor- tant. The first thing that attracted
 my attention was slim young girl
 in brown dress. with bit of red
 ribbon around her neck and waist,
 riding away from the camp on splendid buckskin horse in company
 with young cowboy. It was char ming to watch those two trot off together and out of sight on their
 way to the other camp fourteen miles away. where supper was awaiting them. Riding away over the plains they were typical of Texas. with it's cattle, horses. romance. all woven
 through it's history of development
 from the Gulf to the Canadian River Texas. where the romance of the
 south and the adventure of the west
 mingie.
 DId you ever see the Texas Pan handle at it's very best2 This year is a treasure year down there and
 nature is showing off. Sitting up on
 the hill 1 was impressed with the fact that around me was the rarest flower garden in the world, leagues or land covered with choice. dehcate
 blooms, nearly all of them growing
 to a uniform height, about as tall as
 the grass and so mixed with it as
 to make a harmonious mass of bright colors and green.
 Up there on my throne I thought
 it would be interesting to see how
 many varieties surrounded me, and in the space of an acre of land l found thirty-two different kinds of
 wild flowers. I laid them all out in
 d row side by side and felt like a culprit for having plucked them-in- deed, I would like to have said a nice little burial service over them. had I known proper one.
 That was one of the things l did up on that hill Another was to watch the work horses and mules coming up to camp from the pasture for salt Funny it was to see them coming along, in pairs. as they are matched and worked in the field. How companionable they seemed to- gether and how full and comfortable and certain of their destination, and perhaps destiny. How they fussed around the salt put out for them, and then all pulled out for the top of the hill. where q big windmill is constantly pumping water for them One old white mule that works on the cake wagon all winter, led the procession; they all lined up around i the tub and drank and splashed and | snapped at each other like lot of kids. They, too, were feeling the magic of the evening.
 What an easy thing it would be to slip back and be a savage again Is it because we were at one time savages that we love these things in
 nature so much. or is it because they | are an index to another step in our | journey? Who can tell?
 Go up on a hill once in a while and relax. Whether you are man I ager of bic business. or little rancher, 1t will do you good-A. E. ] de Ricqles in the Breeders Gazette.