We began to see
grass, and to feel that, at last, we were out of the desert. The
wonderful mountain still loomed up large and clear on our left. I
thought of the old Spanish explorers and wondered if they came so
far as this, when they journeyed through that part of our country
three hundred years before. I wondered what beautiful and
high-sounding name they might have given it. I wondered a good
deal about that bare and isolated mountain, rising out of what
seemed an endless waste of sand. I asked the driver if he knew
the name of it: "That is Bill Williams' mountain, ma'am," he
replied, and relapsed into his customary silence, which was
unbroken except by an occasional remark to the wheelers or the
leaders.
I thought of the Harz Mountains, which I had so recently tramped
over, and the romantic names and legends connected with them, and
I sighed to think such an imposing landmark as this should have
such a prosaic name. I realized that Arizona was not a land of
romance; and when Jack came to the ambulance, I said, "Don't you
think it a pity that such monstrous things are allowed in
America, as to call that great fine mountain 'Bill Williams'
mountain'?"
"Why no," he said; "I suppose he discovered it, and I dare say he
had a hard enough time before he got to it."
We camped at Fort Rock, and Lieutenant Bailey shot an antelope.
It was the first game we had seen; our spirits revived a bit; the
sight of green grass and trees brought new life to us.
