against the whitewashed wall.

At the first outpost of the customs a little man, whose considerable
equatorial proportions were girted with a gun, examined our paper, and
waved us on our way. Under the railroad bridge of the International an
engineer blew his whistle, and our mules climbed on top of each other in
their terror.

We wound along the little river, through irrigating ditches, past dozens
of those deliciously quaint adobe houses, past the inevitable church,
past a dead pony, ran over a chicken, made the little seven-year-old
girls take their five-year-old brothers up in their arms for protection,
and finally we climbed a long hill. At the top stretched an endless
plain. The road forked; presently it branched; anon it grew into twigs
of white dust on the gray levels of the background. The local physician
of Eagle Pass was of our party, and he was said to know where a certain
tank was to be found, some thirty miles out in the desert, but no man
yet created could know which twig of the road to take. He decided on
one--changed his mind--got out of the ambulance, scratched his head,
pondered, and finally resolution settled on his face. He motioned the
driver to a certain twig, got in, and shut his mouth firmly, thus
closing debate. We smoked silently, waiting for the doctor's mind to
fog. He turned uneasily in his seat, like the agitated needle of a
compass, and even in time hazarded the remark that something did not
look natural; but there was nothing to look at but flat land and flat
sky, unless a hawk sailing here and there. At noon we lunched at the
tail of the ambulance, and gently "jollied" the doctor's topography. We
pushed on. Later in the afternoon the thirsty mules went slowly. The
doctor had by this time admitted his doubts--some long blue hills on the
sky-line ought to be farther to the west, according to his remembrance.