Jackson Gregory,
Yahoya — Chapter 2
(1916)
“ For a hundred miles in all directions the eye passed over gray floor, sweeping up into loma and mesa, the magic desert colorings over it all, deep blues and glittering bronzes, the snow white of drifted sands, the gray-green of cactus and brush, the brick reds of rocky precipices. Through the clear, dry air the eye sped instantly over waterless distances where a man might find slow death in crossing. Here, just at the cliff's edge, Northrup found again the half-expected, the tumbled ruins of an ancient watch-tower. ”
