The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1919-02-25
CHAPTER. Ill.
(Continued From Last Friday

CHAPTER. Ill.
(Continued From Last Friday
Richard followed to the back Of the
dust-swept, sitting car. The glare on
the platform was intense. he stood
watching the newly made checkerboard
OF a country slip past him. Receding
were the two lines Of cleaning steel
rails which connected and separated
him from the world outside. He was
"going in" Not in Mexico even had
he such a feeling of ultimate remote
ness. The mountains, converging per-
sjectively toward the throat Of the
valley, looked elusive and unreal in
their gauze draperies of rose and vio-
let. The tender hour Of day was cloth
ing them with mystery, softening their
sharp outlines. They curtained the
world beyond. Rickard felt the sus-
pense Of the next act.
It was a torpid Imagination, he
thought, which would not quicken over
this conquest Of the desert. East of
the tract men and teams were prepar-
ing the newly furrowed ground for the
seed. The curved land knives were
breaking up the rich mold into ridges
of soft soil as uncohesive and feathery
as pulverized chocolate. 1t was the
dark color. Of the chocolate Of COM
merce, this silt which had been pill
fered from the states through which
the vagrant river wandered. The smell
Of the upturned earth, sweetly damp,
struck against his nostrils. Rickard
indulged minute Of whimsical fancy !;
this was California territory over
which his train was passing, but the
soil, that dark earth those blades were
crumbling, was it not the tribute Of
other states, Of despoiling Wyoming,
Of ravishing Colorado and Arizona?
10 the west new squares were being
leveled and outlined. Shrubby rec
tangles were being cleared of their Gre
esote bush and tough mesquite. Com
pared with other countries, the prepa-
ration for planting was the simplest.
Horses were dragging over the ground
q railroad rail bent into a V angle,
which pulled the bushes by the roots
and dragged them out Of the way. Be-
yond, farther west, could be seen the
untouched desert. The surface for
many miles was cracked by water
lines, broken and baked into irregular
sand cakes; the mark Of sand which
mas been imprisoned by water and
branded by swift heat.
Close by men were putting in with
care the seed that was to quicken the
river silt They were passing square
where the green tips Of the grain
were piercing the ground. Now they
we're abreast Of q field of matured al
falfa over which the wind raced CRATE
fully. Desert and grain field; death
and life! The panorama embraced the
whole cycle.
They went back to their seats. After
a few minutes the other leaned over
his shoulder, his hand waving toward
the passing mountains. -AThose are the
Superstition mountains you can see
over yonder. An unusually apt name" !"
"Yes?"
"Why is it good, you mean? That
pile of dark rock stands as a monu-
ment to an effete superstition. It is
the gravestone for gigantic mistake.
Why, it was only the grossest igno-
rance that gave to the desert the label
of bad lands The desert is a con-
dition, not a fact. Here you see the
passing Of the condition, the burial Of
the superstition. Are you interested in
irrigation"
Rickard was not given to explain
the degree Of interest his profession
involved, for the stranger drew pain
full breath, and went on.
"Of course you are, if you are a
western man. You are, I think?"
The engineer said he was, by choice.
Irrigation is the creed of the West.
Gold brought people to this country /;
water, scientifically applied, will keep
them here. Look at Riverside. And
we are at the primer stage only. We
are way behind the ancients in infor-
nation on that subject. I learned at
school, so did you, that some OF the
most glorious civilizations f1ourished
III spite of the desert which surround
ed them. That. was only half a truth.