Beneath its spreading shade in the south lurks the Gila Monster, terrible in name at any rate, a fearful object to look upon, a remnant of antediluvian times, a huge, clumsy, two-foot lizard.

The horned toad is quite as forbidding in appearance, but he is a harmless little thing.
Here we are in the rattlesnake's paradise.

Nine species are found along the Mexican border; and no wonder.

The country seems made for them,--the rocks, cliffs, canyons, pitahayas, Joshuas, and all the rest of it.
Notwithstanding their venom they have beauty, and when one is seen at the bottom of some lonely, unfrequented canyon, tail buzzing, head erect, and defiant, glistening eyes, a man feels like apologising for the intrusion.

Above in the limpid sunlight floats the great eagle, deadly enemy of the rattlesnake; from a near-by bush the exquisite song of the mocking-bird trills out, and far up the rocks the hoof-strokes of the mountain sheep strike with a rattle of stones that seems music in the crystal air.