The ranch was situated in the middle of a vast plain around three sides of which rose a grand amphitheatre of mountains.  The nearest of them was some thirty miles away, yet ordinarily, in this clear, dry, Western atmosphere they were always imminent.  Over their eastern ramparts the sun rose to look upon a chill and frosty world; behind their western barriers the sun withdrew, leaving soft air, purple shadows, and the flight of dim, far wildfowl across a saffron sky.  To the north was only distance and the fading of the blue of the heavens to the pearl gray of the horizon.

So much if one stepped immediately beyond the ranch itself.  The plains were broad.  Here and there the flatness broke in a long, low line of cottonwoods marking the winding course of a slough or trace of subsoil water.  Mesquite lay in dark patches; sagebrush; the green of pasture-land periodically overflowed by the irrigation water.  Nearer at home were occasional great white oaks, or haystacks bigger than a house, and shaped like one.

To the distant eye the ranch was a grove of trees.  Cottonwoods and eucalyptus had been planted and had thriven mightily on the abundant artesian water.  We have already noticed the six or eight great trees growing fairly up through the house.  On the outskirts lay also a fruit orchard of several hundred acres.  Opposite the house, and separated from it by a cedar hedge, was a commodious and attractive bungalow for the foreman.  Beyond him were the bunk house, cook houses, blacksmith shops, and the like.

We started our tour of inspection by examining and commenting gravely upon the dormant rose garden and equally dormant grape arbour.  Through this we came to the big wire corrals in which were kept the dogs.  Here I met old Ben.

Old Ben was not very old; but he was different from young Ben.  He was a pointer of the old-fashioned, stocky-built, enduring type common—­and serviceable—­before our bench-show experts began to breed for speed, fineness, small size—­and lack of stamina.  Ben proved in the event to be a good all-round dog.  He combined the attributes of pointer, cocker spaniel, and retriever.  In other words, he would hunt quail in the orthodox fashion; or he would rustle into the mesquite thorns for the purpose of flushing them out to us; or he would swim anywhere any number of times to bring out ducks.  To be sure he occasionally got a little mixed.  At times he might try to flush quail in the open, instead of standing them; or would attempt to retrieve some perfectly lively specimens.  Then Ben needed a licking; and generally got it.  He lacked in his work some of the finish and style of the dogs we used after grouse in Michigan, but he was a good all-round dog for the work.  Furthermore, he was most pleasant personally.

Next door to him lived the dachshunds.