Aside from the lessons of interest to the geologist and geographer so plainly engraved on the surfaces of the plateaus crossed by the Colorado, the region has a wonderful fascination for the purely aesthetic feelings more or less latent in every human breast. To one traversing the open pine forests, in places clothing the plateaus and inclosing many grassy glades and flower-decked parks, in which timid deer may frequently be seen feeding in the early morning, and emerging on the brink of the Grand Canyon, the scene that meets the eye is marvellous beyond all description. C. E. Dutton, to whom we owe some of the most graphic and inspiring descriptions of natural scenery ever written, states that those who have long and carefully studied the Grand Canyon of the Colorado do not hesitate for a moment in pronouncing it the most sublime of all earthly spectacles. "If its sublimity," writes Dutton, "consisted only in its dimensions, it could be sufficiently set forth in a single sentence. It is more than 200 miles long, from 5 to 12 miles wide, and from 5,000 to 6,000 feet deep. But it is not magnitude alone that gives this marvellous canyon its prominence; it is the gorgeous and varied colouring of its mighty walls, the endless details in the sculpturing of its battlements and towers, the ever-changing atmospheric effects of its profound depths, and the wonderful stimulus to the imagination with which it feeds the mind. Standing on the brink of the Grand Canyon, the prosaic search for causes and effects for a time at least must be laid aside, and give place to the emotions." Wonderfully grand as are the scenes beheld in traversing this region of high plateaus, with its magnificent cliffs and profound canyons, one is constantly reminded that it is an arid land. The higher portions of the plateau, it is true, are in places forested, but over vast areas the rocks are bare. Water is everywhere scarce except in the bottom of the larger excavations. Thirsty, and perhaps perishing, the traveller, Tantalus like, looks down on the shining silvery threads of water in the canyons, hundreds and even thousands of feet below, but separated from them by impassable barriers. To the south the plateaus descend to the desolate valleys of southern Arizona, where strange gigantic cactus-plants and scattered clumps of thorny shrubs alone break the dreary monotony of the hot gravelly deserts. Agriculture is there impossible without irrigation, but where the life-giving waters can be utilized, as in the Gila Valley, marvellous productiveness follows. THE GREAT BASIN