spring at midday
The special drew out from the side track and gathered speed . Soon the rhythmic chant of the rails sounded monotonously , and the plains on either side of the track swam swiftly to the rear . Torpid lay Aravaipa in a coma of sunheat . Its adobe-lined streets basked in the white glare of an Arizona spring at midday . One or two Papago Indians , with their pottery wares , squatted in the shade of the buildings , but otherwise the plaza was deserted . Not even a moving dog or a lounging peon lent life to the drowsy square . Silence profound and peace eternal seemed to brood over the land .