For the botanist Arizona is an almost inexhaustible field of delight. Any one who likes to read of vegetable wonders, or of an extraordinarily varied flora, cannot do better than get Dr. Loryea's work, or read 'New Mexico,' by Elias Brevoort. The growth which struck us most was that of the extraordinary cactus called the candelabra or Sahuaro. It is worth while going so far as the railway will take one to see these plants sticking up on the sides of a rock without a trace of verdure or moisture, rising to the height of 40 or 50 feet, and throwing out enormous arms at the most grotesque angles, each varying from the other in shape, the number of its arms, and in the manner in which they are disposed. This giant cactus is covered with prickles, and is of a light green colour. It is said that in the old days the Apache Indians not unfrequently made use of them as handy means of torture, and nailed their victims to a cactus previous to setting fire to it. The body of the plant is resinous, and it can be easily converted into a bonfire. Here and there we saw some with traces of pale yellow flowers. When these are gone there is a fruit, which makes an excellent preserve, or can be boiled into sugar. Then there are prickly pears in great quantities; and there is a "negro-head cactus," with a round top covered with sharp spines, which furnished the Mexicans with fish-hooks. "There is a soul of beauty in things evil." If a thirsty traveller coming upon one of these plants kindles a fire around it, the juices of its body are gradually concentrated into a central cavity, where they only wait incision to be liberated in the form of a pleasant drink, half a gallon or more in quantity. The appliances for getting a drink out of most of these roots are described at length in various books of travel; but however useful they may have been at the time, the activity of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fé Railway will in all probability exempt travellers in future from any necessity to avail themselves of these ingenious devices. Trees flourish in spite of the heat and want of water. As various as the trees are the human inhabitants, and one of the greatest marvels connected with them, perhaps, is the extraordinary variety of dialects amongst people of the same race, who lived in the same country long before the white man came to trouble them. They are decreasing, of course, in numbers; but in some of the reservations they seem to have arrested downward progress, and to have taken to some form of agricultural labour. At present Arizona is the happy hunting-ground of the unfortunate red man. There is, I am assured, no disposition on the part of the whites to intrude upon the reservations of the various tribes. I did not hear of any one who had come in from the East to settle with the view of making his fortune by farming; but miners have flooded the cañons, and climbed the mountain-tops; and now they have