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Show CHAPTEE XXII. THE PBE- HISTORIC RUIN. " 1 am writing near the foothills of the Catalina moun tains and from the bed of an evaporated inland sea. It is now a desert whose vegetation is unlike anything seen east of the Missouri river. Around me tower the statu esque " pithaya" or candelabrum cactus, bearing in sea son luscious fruit ; the massive bisnaga, of wondrous for mation and erratic habits, whose fruit is boiled by the Maricopa squaws and made into palatable candy. From the slopes of the mountains spring giant specimens of the thorny ' ' sahuaro, ' 9 resembling from afar monuments erected by man to commemorate some great historical events in the life of the early people. Further down, near the bed of an exhausted stream, are patches of withered " palmilla" or bear's grass, from which the Pima women make waterproof baskets. Around the desert, miles and miles away, rise porphyritic mountains, the Eincons, the Santa Eita, the Tortillitas, grim, savage and withal picturesque and weirdly fasci nating. Their rugged sides are torn, gashed and cut to pieces, their cones now cold and dead, stand sharp and clear against a sky of opalescent clearness. In times past, in years geologically not very remote, the flanks of these towering hills were red with fire and their peaks ablaze with volcanic flame. Gazing on them from afar you experience a sensation of awe, a consciousness of the earth's great age domi nates you, and down the avenues of time, down through the ages there comes to you the portentous question of |