195401 Desert Magazine 1954 January

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Photograph by John L. BlackfordYUCCA PEACEBy EDNA O'BRIENOntar io , Cal i forn ia

They left the small rooms.The narrow walls , the giddySpeed and loud distractionsOf a rushing cityAnd cam e as weary s t rangersInto a larger spaceWhere noth ing louder wasThan desert wind. A placeWhere traffic was untamedCoyote , l i za rd , hareAnd o ther smal l earthlingsThat qu ie t ly go unnamed.They came into a worldO f j u n i p e r - c o m m a n d .Of rock-serenity.Of yucca-peace and sand.They came into a placeWhere sounds were whisper ingsAnd something in their eyesAwoke and spread bright wings.BUDDING RODS

B y A L I C E T E N N E S O N HAWKINSSan Pedro, California

DESERT RAINBOWBy ANNA A. LINDSAYEncino, Cal i forn iaFinallyThe road escaped i ts mountain trapWith a writhing lurchThat hurled it out upon the desert floorFlattened, parched, despairing in i ts searchFor watered places.But there in front a rainbow arched

And the grateful road.Unc aring for a pot of gold.Treasured the thought insteadFhLit where there is a rainbowThere is rain.And straight into the rainbowForged ahead .

I do not doubt that Aaron's ro


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D E S E R T C A L E N D A RD ecember 31 D eer D ance, SandiaPueblo, New Mexico.D ecember 31A nnual Pegleg SmithLiars' Contest, Borrego Valley, Cal.January 1-31Special exhibit of In-dian beadwork and porcupine quillwork. Southwest Museum, HighlandPark, LosAngeles, California.January 1Comanche dances, Plaza.Rancho de Taos, New Mexico.January 1-3 Southern CaliforniaChapter, Sierra Club camping tripto Hidden Springs and BoxCanyonin theLittle San Bernardino Moun-tains near Indio, California.January 1-3Desert Peaks Section,Southern California Chapter, SierraClub climb of Rabbit Peak in SantaRosa range. Rendezvous at Bor-rego Springs, California.January 6Three Kings' Day dance,Taos Pueblo, Taos, NewMexico.January 10D on's Club Travelcadeon the Apache Trail. From Phoe-nix, Arizona.January 10Desert Sun Ranchers'Rodeo. Wickenburg. Arizona.January 16D eadline for entries,ninth annual International NaturePhotography Exhibition, NatureCamera Club of Chicago. Entryforms available from Blanche Ko-larik. Box 52. Apache Junction,Arizona.January 16-17Southern CaliforniaChapter, Sierra Club natural sci-ence trip to Borrego State Park,California.January 16-17D on's Club Travel-cade to Nogales. From Phoenix.Arizona.January 24 D esert Sun Ranchers'Rodeo. Wickenburg, Arizona.January 24D on's Club Travelcadeto Pima Indian Reservation. FromPhoenix, Arizona.January 25St. Paul's Day D ance.Taos Pueblo, Taos, New Mexico.January 31G old Rush D ays, Wick-enburg. Arizona.

Volume 17 JANUARY, 1954 Number 1COVERPOETRYCALENDARADVENTUREEXPERIENCEPHOTOGRAPHYEXPLORATIONFICTIONARCHEOLOGYCRAFTSLOST MINEGHOST TOWNDESERT QUIZCLOSE-UPSMININGNATURELETTERSNEWSHOBBYCONTESTLAPIDARYCOMMENTBOOKS

Daughters of the Navajo. Photo in color byCHUCK ABBOTT, Tucson.Sentinel of the Desert, and other poems . . . 2January events on the desert 3Through 'The Narrows' to Zion

By FREDA B. WALBRECHT 4Life on the DesertBy RAE VON DORNUM 8

Pictures of the Month 9Old Indian Waterhole

By RANDALL HENDERSON 10Hard Rock Shorty of Death Valley 12Bulldozers Followed the Archeologists

By DOROTHY L. PILLSBURY 13Ancient Leather Craft Revived 17The Lost Dutchman MineBy MARY L. BAGWELL 18Golden Ghost of the Nevada Hills

By NELL MURBARGER 20A True-False test of your desert knowledge . . 24About those who write for Desert 24Current news of desert mines 25Robber Rat of the Desert

By MARGARET OSBORN 26Comment from Desert's readers 27From Here and There on the Desert 29Gems and Minerals 34Prizes for photographers 40Amateur Gem Cuter, By LELANDE QUICK . . 41Just Between You and Me, by the Editor . . . 42Reviews of Southwestern literature 43h e D e s e r t Magazine is published monthly by th e D e s e r t P r e s s , Inc., Pa lm D ese r t .C a l i f o r n i a . R e - en te r ed as seco n d c l a ss ma t t e r Ju ly 17, 1948, at th e postof f iee at I ' a lm Desert ,C al i f o r n i a , u n d e r the Act of M a r c h 3, 1870. Ti t l e r eg i s t e r ed No. 358865 in U. S. Patent Off ice ,an d co n ten t s co p y r ig h ted 1954 by th e D e s e r t P re s s , Inc. Permiss ion to reproduce contentsm u s t be secured f rom th e ed i to r in w r i t i n g .

R A N D A L L H E N D E R S O N , E d i t o rB ESS STAC Y, B u s in ess Man ag e r M A R G A R E T GE R KE , Asso c ia t e EditorE V O N N E RIDDELL, C ir cu la t io n ManagerUn so l i c i t ed man u sc r ip t s and p h o t o g r a p h s submitted c a n n o t be r e t u r n e d or a c k n o w l e d g e du n le ss f u l l r e tu r n p o s t ag e is en c lo sed . D ese r t Mag az in e a ssu m es no r e sp o n s ib i l i t y ford a m a g e or loss of m a n u s c r i p t s or p h o t o g r a p h s although (hie care wil l be ex e r c i sed . Sub-scr ibers should send not ice of c h a n g e of a d d r e s s by the f i r s t of the m o n t h preceding i s su e .

SUBSCRIPTION RATESOne Veai- ....$3.50 Two Veals $6.00Canadian Subscriptions 2r>e Extra, Foreign 50c Extra

SubscriptionsAddress Correspondence to Deseri Mag az in e , Palm Desert, California

V r m y P e r s o n n e l O u t s i d e U. S. A. M u s t li e M a i l e d in C o n f o r m i t y W i t hI' . O. 1). O r d e r N o. 11)087

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Entering the main canyon of the Zion Narrows fromabove stream is an impressive andunforgettable experience.Just before reaching the public trail at the end of the

Narrows, the shadowed gorge widens toadmit more sunlight.Through 'The N arrows' to ZionMost of the folks who visit Utah's Zion National Park ride into the areaover pa ve d high wa ys a nd do their sight-seeing from ea sy trails. But here isone group of adventurers who chose to enter Zion the hard waythrough thespectac ular Narrows of the Virgin River. It is a wet and h azardo us routeandhere is the story of the exper ience.

By FREDA B. WALBRECHTPhotos by Nathan C. ClarkMap by Norton Allen

THE North Fork of theVirgin River enters the Tem-ple of Sinawava in Zion Na-tional Park, the Zion Narrows com-mences, a fantastic defile extending 25miles northward through the KolobPlateau . In places it is only 20 feetwide, with the walls of the gorgetowering more than 2000 feet above.I first heard of this canyon a num-ber of years ago from a member of theZion Narrows Club, a group composedof hikers who had traversed the Nar-rows. He described the hazards ofthe tripthe deep places where, ifthe water is high, one must swim, andthe danger of being caught in a flashflood when the water might rise 30

feet in the narrowest places and therewould be no escape.My opportunity to make this tripcame when I met D r. Reed Farnsw orthof Cedar City last spring in NavajoCanyo n. D r. Farnswo rth had beenthrough the Narrows several times,and he offered to lead a group of usin October when the likelihood offloods was least.Late one Thursday night eleven ofus piled sleeping bags and food packedin waterproof plastic into GeorgieWhite's truck and headed for CedarCity, Utah . In our party were RuthRandall, Lefty Bryant, Tom Corrigan,Leroy Arnold, Georgie White and my-self, all Sierra Club mem bers. Ma rtha

McCoy of San Francisco missed usat Barstow but joined us later at CedarCity. Allen Crockett, Justice of theUtah Supreme Court, came down fromSalt Lake City. Theron Aschcraft,teacher in the Cedar City College, GusLarscn, Cedar City minister, and ourleader com pleted the party . Fridaynight camp was made on D r . Farns-worth's lawn.Early Saturday morning we leftCedar City, driving through forestswhere aspen formed golden patternsagainst the green of pine and fir, pastNavajo Lake, then turning onto a goodunsurfaced road to a ranch on theNorth Fork where the trail to theNarrows begins. We parked our cars.

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In the main canyon of the Zion Narrows, near its junction with Orderville Creek,man is dwarfed in the immensity of sheer canyon walls.

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Through this narrow defile the NorthFork leaves its own canyon to joinDeep Creek, entering from thenorth (left).Reed having arranged to have themdriven around to the Park, and startedour journey on foot.The upper canyon is quite unpre-tentious. Large pine trees stand againsta backdrop of red sandstone cliffs, andthe trail descend s gradually. The waterwas so shallow we thought at first towade downstream in the creek bed,but we found the bottom covered withrocks of all sizes, all exceedingly slip-pery . Th e wa ter is so silt laden it isimpossible to see the bottom, evenwhe re it is fairly sha llow. We soonlearned to slide one foot over a rockto firmer footing before taking the nextstep, and to cross the creek countlessnumbers of times, seeking the security

of dry rocks along the bank. Still,many a ducking we took as our feetslipped on deceptive rockholds.The upper part of the canyon wasablaze with the red and gold of autumncolors cloaking sycamore, aspen andbirch. Roc ks took on weird shapesand forms. We came to the D evil'sNeedle, a monolith jutting up severalhundred feet between the narrow walls.In a bend of the canyon we found aninverted cone, with perfect rings circ-ling the rock and a pine tree growingfrom its apex. On inaccessible ledges,trees and bushes grew out of the ver-tical walls. Little more than an hou rafter lunch, we came to a 30-foot

To SALT LAKE CITY ..

CEDAR CITY

waterfall, which we passed by scram-bling up the cliff walls and through aconvenient notch where once thestream had followed a higher channel.After another hour we came to oneof the narrowest and most beautifulsections of the gorge where threepeople standing abreast can touch op-posite walls, rising 2,000 feet above.About four o'clock we came to a slightwidening in the canyon at its junctionwith D eep Creek, or Crystal Creek asthe clear stream is called locally. Thiswas our campsite for the night. ]twas a perfect spot, with huge piles ofdriftwood to assure blazing fires andsandy spots for our sleeping bags.

C> *' I t&zBrian Head

j J\' CEDA R / - p ' r : \ B R E A K S 1



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Clouds had been drifting across theslit of sky between the narrow canyonwalls overhead, and we expected adrenching before morning. We hopedthat no flood would be started up-stream, to threaten our chasm. Butduring the night the clouds driftedaway and by morning all was clear inour T-shaped bit of heaven.Through countless cons the watersof this stream have been eating intothe heart of the high Kolob Plateau,bearing loads of silt down to the Colo-rado. The Virgin River carries over3,000,000 tons of rock waste to theColorado each year, which amountsto about 80 carloads a day.I couldn't help wondering how theiirst travelers through this gorge musthave felt, not quite sure of what theywould find, what dangers they mightface, whether they could get through.

Fathers D ominguez and Escalante,who probably were the first white mento enter Utah, crossed the Virgin Riverin 1776, but they did not get nearenough to Zion Canyon to see it. Jede-diah Smith named the Virgin after oneof his companions, Thomas Virgin.In 1872 G. K. Gilbert traversed theNorth Fork, naming the miles of can-yon floor "the Narrows the mostwonderful defile it has been my for-tune to behold."D aylight came to our constrictedworld. Wh ile the sun shone on the

The hikers soon learned to establishfooling before taking each step, andto cross the creek countless number sof times, seeking the security of dryrocks along the bank.top of a great white dome rising abovethe walls of Crystal Creek, we werelost in shadow as we cooked breakfast.Soon we were on our way again. Withthe added waters of Crystal Creek thestream had become swifter, deeper.

We were now approaching the por-tion of the canyon which is marked"N arro ws " on the map. Here forperiods of a half hour to an hour itwould be impossible to find an avenueof escape should high water come.And high water does comein thespring when the snow melts and againduring summer rains. Water markingson the rock walls 30 feet above the


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stream bear witness to past floods.And deep water is not the only dangera cloudburst would present; swirlinglogs and rocks would doom even theablest swimmer.Crossing and re-crossing the swiftcurrent, we plodded on through dimcorridors. By one o'clock we hadreached Orderville, a creek which en-ters the North Fork through a darkand barren side canyon. The currentsof air had been surprisingly warm allday, but here the atmosphere suddenlychilled, adding to the gloomy aspect.We had been in deep water for hoursand, thoroughly soaked, were shiver-ing with cold. Reed and Theron foundone lone stick of driftwood and man-aged to kindle a fire over which we

sought to dry and warm ourselveswhile waiting for the rest of our group.After a few minutes of attempted con-versation through chattering teeth, wedecided they could follow our foot-prints with little trouble. We hurriedon.As we approached Zion Park, morewater was coming into our streamthrough springs and seepage in thewalls, and at times the current wasso strong we could scarcely standagainst it. At one point I stepped ona sloping, submerged rock, teetered,then fell, ruining one of my cameras.Fed by seepage through its walls,the canyon took on a greener aspect.Beautiful grottoes of ferns appeared.Cascades glided down, hugging the

rocks. Water ouzels and other canyonbirds skimmed the water.An hour after leaving Orderville,above the noise of the rushing waterswe heard sho uts. Soon we saw ourCedar City friends who had drivenour cars around to the Park and hikedup to meet us. In the group were TomClark with his two young sons andWilliam Flannigan, who many yearsago made one of the first trips throughthe Narrows.At 3:30 we made the final crossingand stepped onto the pavement of thePark trail, where Whitey White waswaiting for us. With the music of therushing waters still ringing in our earswe reached the cars, an unforgettableadventure behind us.

L I F E O N T H E D E S E R TBy RAE VON DORNUM

Charlie Hanus loved the desert, and he laughed when hisneighbor called the barren country surrounding his Ne-va da m ining claim "a land accursed." Here is the storyof the courageous Hanus familyand the curse of Ke-hama. fulfilled first by death and hardship and now bythe fury of the atomic bomb./ sing of Keham a, the deser t's straypup.The shaft's going down, and thestock's going up.The wind that blow s o'er it is fitfuland dry,The lonesomest place beneath thewhole sky.I will always remember its curse andits spell;Kehama surely is next door toHell.

#OU HAVE COME to a landaccursed," was the greetingCharlie Hanus received fromhis nearest neighbor when he and hiswife and daughter arrived at their iso-lated property in the southwest cornerof Lincoln County, Nevada, to maketheir home.Accursed or not, Charlie loved thedesert, and he laughed at the warning.After all, he was going to mine gold;the neighbor's mine, 15 miles away,was lead. Charlie had owned a goldmine in the Groom district for a num-ber of years, and he was sure he couldmake this one pay.Hanus had the soul of a dramatist,and the more he thought about theminer's strange greeting, the more itfascinated him. "A land accursed." Itreminded him of Robert Southey'spoem, "The Curse of Kehama." Hedecided to call his mine Kehama.D uring the early 1930s, the Hanusfamily lived at Kehama and workedthe minea wide vein of low gradegold with an occasional high gradestreak or pocket. It wasn't an easylife. The surrounding desert was bar-ren, and wood for heating and cook-ing had to be hauled from the tim-

bered mountains in Charlie's Ford andtrailer. The nearest water was at Cat-tle Springs, several miles away.In spite of these hardships, the fam-ily was a happy one, and all of them,including two dogs, two cats and Gretathe goat, wended their way up the hilleach day in search of Kehama's gold.The only machinery of which themine could boast was a hoist. D rillingwas done by hand, and the ore fromthe high grade pockets was ground inan old arrast re. Conce ntrates wereshipped to the mint in San Francisco.Engineers visited Kehama, lookedover the vein and sampled the ore.There was talk of building a mill atCattle Springs, but money was scarcein those days, and the engineers soonstopped coming, talk died away.D uring Christmas week in 1936,Charlie, who was working on a PWAroad project in Caliente, was strickenwith a sudden illness. He was rushedto the hospital in Cedar City, Utah,where he passed away. In accordancewith his last wishes, he was buried onthe hillside at Kehama, in the heartof the desert he loved.A few days after Charlie's funeralcame the big snow. Mrs. Hanus andher daughter were snow-bound andalone at the mine. They could lookdown the hill and see the car of thePettyman party, trapped on the flatbelow. But try as they might to at-tract their attention, the Pettymansonly two miles away and in plain sightof Kehamafought their way insteadto the lead mine 15 miles distant. Onemember of the party perished.The crew from Las Vegas whichbroke the road to the Pettyman car

was not aware that there was anyoneat Kehama, and they went away leav-ing two miles of waist-deep snow be-tween the Hanus women and freedom.Those first days, planes flew day andnight over the area looking for thePettyman party, but the signals fromKehama went unnoticed.Many lonely hungry days elapsedbefore rescue finally came, but theroad crew in Lincoln County, withwhom Charlie had worked, hadn't for-gotten that Nell Hanus and her daugh-ter Helen were at Kehama. These menbroke road through almost a hundredmiles of snow to reach them . LaterHelen married one of the men in therescue crew.After this experience, the twowomen moved to Caliente where Helenworked as an arts and crafts teacheruntil her marriage.Nell Hanus and her daughter, HelenHanus Coyle, still reside in Calienteand still hold title to Kehama. Butthey no longer dream of a mill to putthe property into production again, forKeham a is now inaccessible. The roadto the mine crosses the atomic provinggrounds, and travel through the areais strictly controlled.Charlie Hanus had no thought ofprophecy when he named his mine,nor did the writer when in 1933 shepenned the verse which prefaces thisstory. But today, the hillside whereCharlie lies buried overlooks French-man's F lat, and is witness to the noisy,bursting Hell that is the atomic bomb.And as the giant mushroom cloudcasts its shadow on the hill, Kehama'scurse reaches its fulfillment on the landthat bears his name.



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P I C T U R E S O FT H E M O N T H

OutAfter a morning of searching theNevada desert for precious ore, an oldprospector takes time out for lunch.The picture, first prize w inner in D es-ert's November photo competition, wastaken by Adrian Atwater of CarsonCity, Nevada, with a 4x5 Speed Graphic

cam era, Super XX film, 1/50 se cond atf. 22.

m S&teet,Once teeming with fun-loving miners,the main street of the ghost town ofCalico, California, now is quiet. KeithWilley of Long Beach, California, wonsecond prize in the Picture-of-the-Manthcontest with this interesting study, takenwith a Speed Graphic camera, SuperPa nch rom atic P ress film, K2 filter, 1/100second at f. 16.


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Once a waterhole for desert Indian tribesmen there are66 palms in this oasis. Salton Sea may beseen in the background.OldIndianWaterholeClay Hin.en (right) shows Charles Faulhaber, CoachellaValley rancher, specimens of fossilizedoysters found near the oasis.

. . .Nestling in a little cove at the base of Santa Rosa Mountains nearSalton Sea is an ancient Indian waterholea palm oasis so little knownthat it do es not ap pe ar on a ny ma p. But it is of interest to desert

explorers today because of the many fossils and collectors' mineralsfound in the area . This is a field trip for hik ers bec aus e the terrainis too rugged even for jeeps.By RAND ALL HEND ERSONMap by Norton Alleneration. They recently had been burnedwhen Hilton and I were there. Thetrunks were black and the frondsseared by flames. A newly burnedpalm tree is a sorry picture. Fireseldom kills the tree, but until a newgrowth of fronds is produced the treeis as unsightly as a molting chicken.

We found a little spring among thetrees, but the pool was so clogged withcharred sticks and ashes we could notdetermine the quality of the water.It was several years later that Ilearned the oasis had been given a

YEARS AGO whenJohn Hilton first guided me toa pretty little oasis of nativeWashingtonia palms at the base ofthe Santa Rosa Mountains overlook-ing Salton Sea I recorded them in mynote book as "Travertine Palms" be-cause of their location near TravertinePoint. They were not marked on anymap and Hilton told me he hadnever heard them mentioned by name.I counted 66 palms in the group, ofwhich two were tall charred veterans,and the remaining trees of a later gen-

nam e. I was talking with Henry E .W. Wilson, who has searched theSanta Rosa area for the lost Pegleggold since 190 1, and me ntioned theTravertine palms."Sure I know about that oasis,"Wilson said. "I first saw those palm sin 1901 when John Collins (for whomCollins Valley was nam ed) and Jskirted the base of the Santa Rosaswith our pack burros looking for thelost gold. A few mo nths later when aman named Stein came from LongBeach with his two children to visitthe Collins family John and I took himon a prospecting trip that led us to thiswaterhole. It was midday when wearrived there, and while John and 1lounged in the shade of the palms,Stein gathered seeds from some of thepalms and with a sharp stick beganplanting them in the damp eartharound the spring. We chided Stein

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about spending his rest hour plantingpalm seeds, and always after that re-ferred to the oasis as Stein's Rest."Near Stein's Rest, Figtree John,the Indian recluse who lived for manyyears on the shore of Salton Sea nearTravertine Point was believed to havehad a gold mine. Beyond the oasisCollins and I found fossil clam shellsas large as dinner plates and from fourto six inches thick, embedded in awhite sediment that looked like chalk."'D oc Coolidge, formerly of Cool-idge Spring, once showed me anotherdeposit of clam shells and many kindsof marine fossils near this place, andon the other side of the ridge is evi-dence of old Indian caves, one rowabove the other."My most recent visit to this oasiswas last November when I accom-panied Guy Hazen and Charles E.

Faulhaber on a jeep trip into this area.We left highway 99 just west of Trav-ertine rocks, which mark the mosteasterly point of the Santa Rosa range.At .04 mile our unimproved roadpassed under a power line, and thisis as far as it is possible to take acar not equipped for sand travel. Wewere able to drive the jeep anothermile, dropping down into GarnetWash for a short distance. Then theway was blocked by boulders too bigfor any car.Just over a low hill is one of themarine fossil deposits mentioned byHenry Wilson. Guy Hazen, who spentmany years in the field as a paleon-tologist for the American Museum ofNatural History, immediately beganfinding specimens which interested himand he spent the rest of the after-noon there exploring the extent of thisfossil field while Charles Faulhaberand I hiked two miles to the palmoasis.Passing through the fossil field isan old Indian trail which we were able

to follow for nearly a mile before itwas lost in the rocks of an arroyo.Undoubtedly Indians living in theSanta Rosa Mountains had followedthis trail in prehistoric days to securesalt from the dry basin where SaltonSea was formed in 19 05-07 . Perhapsbefore that time this trail also hadbeen used by Indians living on theshores of ancient Lake Cahuilla whenthey went to the mountains to gatherpinyon nuts. Ther e is evidence todaythat at some prehistoric timeperhaps800 years agothe shores of the clearwater lake which filled the basin wereoccupied by large numbers of tribes-men. Evidently the palm oasis wasone of the waterholes used by thesetribesmen, for beyond the spring it is

possible to pick up the trail again asit leads to the higher elevations of theSanta Rosas.Only two of the veteran palms fromwhich Stein gathered seeds are livingtoday . But the seeds he planted e vi-dently sprouted and grew, for thereis a second generation of 30-odd palmswhose age I estimated at about 50

years. The rem aining trees in theoasis are of a still younger generation.Today the spring has dried upprobably due to the shifting of thefault lines in this area. But there re-mains an ample supply of undergroundwater, for the palms are green andvigorous.John Hilton once explored this area

WOL L OSTOMITE

" ' GRAPHITE "> jfIN LIMESTONE -y-.-'N -x ' . . . - , ; '

* V ^ SHORE LINE OF' ? ANCIENT LAKE CAHUILLA

" * - ' ' cTRAVERTINES,POINT

- EL CENTRO 62 Ml.

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>

An old Indian trail leads over the Santa Rosa foothills inthe background beyond the oasis.lor semi-precious gem material andwrote the story for Desert Magazine(Janu ary '4 2 ). Some of the depositshe found are marked on the accom-panying map.

Because of the inaccessibility of thisoasis, few visitors ever reach the spot.We estimated the elevation at 200 feet,and from the slope above the palmswe coald look across to the blue waterof Salton Sea, about four miles away.The fire which burned the pahns 15years ago probably had been startedby lightningbut flame has not visitedthe oasis since then, and the dry skirtsof the trees planted by Stein now reachthe ground.Charles and 1 returned along thetrail we had come, and found GuyHazen with several fossil specimenshe had collected. He had found theshells of oysters and clams whichprobably grew here during the late

Pleistoscene age when this region isbelieved to have been the floor of anancient seamillions of years beforeLake Cahuilla or Salton Sea wereformed.I have no doubt that an intensiveexploration of this area would yieldmuch of interest to archeologists for the ancient waterhole at Stein'sRest probably has known the presenceof a thousand Indians for every whiteman who has been there. And sincethe surface water has disappeared it isunlikely to become the rendezvous for

any except an occasional prospector.But despite Us seclusionor per-haps because of itStein's Rest re-mains one of the most charming littleoases on the Southern California desert.

PROSPECTORS LES SPELL,DUDE SANDS WIN PRIZESLes Spell, 71, of Twentynine Palms,California, and D ude Sands, 59, ofthe Knott Berry Farm at Buena Park,California, shared winning honors atthe Burro-Flapjack contest staged inNovember in connection with the an-nual encampment of the D eath Valley49ers. The cont&st was at StovepipeWell.Spell, who won top honors a yearago, was sponsored this year by theTwentynine Palms Realty Board, andwith his burro Pinto was awarded firstprize for the most authentic prospec-tor's costume and pack. Sands wonfirst place in the Flapjack contest. Withhis burro Judy he raced 50 yardsagainst five other contestants, built afire, mixed the batter, and cooked aflapjack and fed it to the burro inseven minutes 25 seconds. Spell fin-ished second.Charley Mitchell, 59, and his burroLady, sponsored by Barstow Chamberof Commerce, won second place inthe costume and pack contest. Othercontestants were: Charley Bishop, 63 ,sponsored by Surcease Mining Com-pany of Atolia, California, and hisburro Blue Boy; Arnold Fryck, 42,with his burro Gravel Gertie of LasVegas, Nevada, and Ralph Lyle, 39.with his burro Geronimo of Beatty,Nevada.Winners of the Burro-Flapjack con-

test were awarded many merchandiseprizes offered by commercial concernsin the Southwest. Judge s were StateSenator Charles Brown, Vern Fair-banks of Shoshone and Archie D eanof Independence, California.

H a r d R o c k ShortyofDeath

Valley"Yep , " ihey's lots o' wild beesin this country," Hard RockShorty was saying. His audiencewas a group of tenderfoot visitorswho had arrived at the Infernostore in one of those rubberneckbuses.The visitors wanted to knowall about D eath Valleyhow itgot its name, how hot is was insummer, did it ever rain, etc.?One of the visitors, a bee-keeper,asked if there were floweringshrubs enough to attract wildbees."Me "n Pisgah Bill never hadto buy no sugar when we wuzworkin' Bill's lead mine up inEight Ball Can yon . Got all oursweet'nin' by robbin' the wild beecavities up in the Funeral Moun-tains."We got along all right 'tilBill got one of them git-rich-quickideas o' his'n. One day he sezto me, 'Shorty, this is all foolish-nessyou an' me doin' all thishard work when we could jest aswell have them bees workin' ferus.""Bill's idea was to gather thatwild honey an ' sell it. Ma ybe itwuz a good idea, but Bill fig-gered that if he could get thembees to work 24 hours a day hecould make more money. So hesent back east to a friend o' his'nan' had him capture several hun-dred o" them lightnin' bugs that

fly aroun d at night like they ha dlanterns hung on their tails."When the fireflys arrived Billstarted cross-breedin' them withthe beesto light "em up fernight work. Might o' worked allright, but that year the desert wuzcovered with them evenin' prim-rosesyu know that little whiteflower that grows on the duneswhen there is a winter rain. Lotso' honey in them primrose blos-soms but the pesky flowersclose up their petals at night.Bill was plumb disgusted whenhe found the night crew o' beescomin' back without no honeyan' he got mad an' went back tominin' ."

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Trenching machine of El Paso Natural das Compa ny digs into Southwestern soilafter trained archeologists hare checked the ground for evidence ofancient civilizations and wave the go-ahead.Bulldozers Followedthe Archeologists

By D ORO THY L. PILLSBURYPhotos cour tesy Dr . Jesse Nusbaum

7HREE SUMMERS ago, JesseNusbaum's mane of iron grayhair practically stood on end.The El Paso Gas Company, he learned,was about to begin a pipe line to thewest coast, to connect with Pacific Gasand Electric Company arteries andcarry cheap, natural fuel to the SanFrancisco Bay region. Bulldozers wereready to start digging a trench six feetdeep and three feet wide over a 60-foot

right of way from B arker D ome on theNew Mexico-Colorado line, 451 milesacross northern New Mexico and Ari-zona to Topock on the Colorado Rivernear Needles, California.D r. Nusbaum, senior archeologistfor the National Park Service and con-sulting archeologist for the D epartme ntof Interior, shuddered when he con-sidered what would happ en. Bull-dozers and giant trenchers would beripping their way through some of therichest yet least explored archeologicalcountry in the nation. Unless they

When he heard about the ElPaso Gas Company's plan to laya pipe l ine across archeologicallyunexplored Southwestern lands,Dr. Jesse Nusbaum went into ac-tion. Applying the AntiquitiesAct, he gained the cooperation ofgas company officials and, preced-ing bulldozers and trenchers, exca-vated for artifacts along the pipeline route. Here is the story of aunique project of industry andscience which has added much toour understanding of prehistoricman in the Southw est.

were delayed, one of the rarest pagesin the life of prehistoric man might belost forever.Fortunately, most of the 451-mileright of way led through Navajo coun-try or over other federal lands, so thefederal Antiquities Act could be en-forced. This 50-yea r-old law estab -lishes procedure for the investigation.

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excavation and collection of naturalscientific material by qualified repre-sentatives of reputable educational in-stitutions under permits issued by thesecretary of the federal departmenthaving jurisdiction over the land in-volved. It was passed to keep the pot-hunters and souvenir faddists from de-stroying priceless pieces in the jig-sawpuzzle of prehistoric history that sci-entists are slowly and painstakinglyfitting together.

D r. Nusbau m dusted off the Antiqui-ties Act and waved it happily in thefaces of some of the country's greatestindustrialists.The officials of the El Paso Gas

Com pany were annoyed . Millions ofdollars were involved in the giant proj-ect they were ready to launch. A largeportion of their 451 -mile right of wayled throu gh high altitude coun try. Ifthey had to hold back their machinesand hundreds of workmen while arche-ologists puttered in their path, dustingoff skeletons and digging into buriedpit houses, winter snows might trapthem in the high countryand thatwould mean the loss of a tremendousamount of time and money.

But Jesse Nusbaum is a diplomat aswell as an ardent arch eologist. A sim-plified method of exploration wasadopted, and the route of the machines/)/. Jesse Nusbaum, director of archeological investigationsalong the El Paso Gas Company's pipe line route.

was detoured here and there to avoidknown or suspected sites. El Paso Gasagreed to pay salaries and maintenanceof four qualified archeologists whowould work under the direct super-vision of a fifth. D r. Fred Wendorf,and the general supervision of D r. Nus-baum.Soon bulldozers weighing 23 to 28tons were stirring land that, in moderntimes, had seldom felt the imprint ofa human foot. Sun-baked earth wasHying. Behind the bulldozers came the37-ton trenchers. Two crews of 300men each manned the monster ma-chines or worked beside them. Mobilerepair shops, offices and even an airstrip were part of operation s. Buteverything men, Gargantuan ma-chines and other equipmenthad towait under the desert sun until thearcheologists, who had been trudgingthe miles ahead, gave the signal to pro-

ceed.At first, the El Paso officials wereanno yed at the delays . But soon thethrill of archeology touched them, too.and they shared the scientists" excite-ment over each new discovery. Whenthe right of way led through privatelyowned land, they kept the archeologistson the job and continued their salaries.They provided an airplane for D r. Nu s-baum to make hurried trips to thescene of action and to observe theterrain from the air. When total exca-vation of a prehistoric site had to bemade, they provided men to help withthe digging. When the job was fin-ished, they paid for the compilation,study and publication of the recordedmaterial.The officials of the El Paso GasCompany were not the only ones bit-ten by the buried treasure bug . Manyof the men handling the monster ma-chines becam e interested . Some ofthem became so expert that they couldrecognize a site almost as well as thescientists.D r. Nusbaum did not confine him-self to flying over the line of march.He was often right down in the exca-vations, dusting off artifacts and exam-ining the bones of men who roamedthis desert land thousands of years ago.Sometimes he walked ten or elevenmiles a day ahead of the bulldozers.From one such hot, dust-filled expedi-tion, he returned with a rare artifact.It was a small rounded stone objectthat fit snugly into a man's palm.Around its edges small teeth had beenlaboriously formed."What is it." he was asked."A scraper.""How old do you think it is?""If it is related to the Pinto Lakeartifacts." answered the delighted sci-



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entist, "it could be many thousands ofyears old ." Investigation has provedhim correc t. Th at little scrap er pickedup along the right of way of a modernpipe line belongs to the Near-PintoLake classification and is probably7,000 ye ars old. It was finds like thiswhich kept the husky crews of giantmodern machinery alert and eager overthe long desert miles.

When the last section of pipe hadbeen laid, a total of 146 sites of pre-historic man had been found along theright of way. Fifty-two of those siteswere in New M exico and 94 in Arizona .Only once did the right of way of thepipe line have to be diverted for amajor find. On ly 13 major sites werefully excav ated. On others not so im-portant, notes were taken to be com-piled in the total report. Sometimesthe site was partially excavated, andif it was seen that the big ditch couldrun along one side of the ancient wallof an uncovered dwelling or kiva, thearcheologists gave the trench diggersand pipe layers the go-ahead signaland returned later for more completeexamination.

The richest find of all was alongWillow Creek, 50 miles from Selig-man, Arizona. This was land that hadnever before known the archeologist'strowel. It yielded 30 structures in tendifferent sites all dating from 500 to700 B.C . All along the way, surfaceartifacts were picked up that dated asfar back as 4000 B.C., but not a singlestructure of this remote time was found.So , through the cooperation of sci-ence and industry, the knowledge ofancient Southwesterners was enriched.Archeologists have long known by con-clusive evidence that men have beenliving in the Southwest for 10,0 00 years ;but there have been gaps in the evidencebetween that faraway time and theprese nt. The archeologist is the onewho fills in the chinksby piecing to-gether the pattern of those men wholived here centuries before history be-ganwhat they looked like, what kindof habitations they had, what they ate,what they made with their handsand,most important, why they moved on ingreat migrations. Th at is the impor-tance of saving such evidence as thepipe line right of way revealed.D r. Nusb aum 's search also uncov-ered geological evidence which pointedto severe drouths as the cause for massmigrations of a people who by 1200A.D . had arrived at a considerable

degree of cultu re. The se people livedin many storied, many roomed apart-ment-like buildings. They cultivatedcorn, beans and squashes and irrigatedthem by means of a clever system ofwate r ditches. They were good crafts-J A N U A R Y , 1 9 5 4

As bulldozers waited . . .

*-

The archeologists dug . .. . . For evidence of prehistoric ma


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.

This kiva or ceremonial room of the Pueblo II period was abandoned approxi-mately 900 years ago. It was uncovered in one of the 13 major sites thoroughlyexcavated by Dr. Nusbaum and his assistants.men . They wove vegetable fibers ex-pertly and made exquisite potterywhich has never been surpassed, evenif they did not know the use of thepotter's wheel. Most important, theywere a settled people and were ableto develop a government, a religionand a social life that fully met theirneeds. Certain vestiges of this GoldenAge still persist among many of theSouthwest's Indians today, especiallyamong the pueblo people of the RioGrande country of New Mexico.

Among allotments of natural gas forregional use, five million cubic feetwere set aside by the pipe line com-panies for the use of the Navajos. Thiscaused some chuckles among peoplewho know the Navajo reservation withits scattered hogans. But now, withthe discovery of uranium on their aridacres and the possibility that outsideinterests may erect a uranium process-ing plant on Navajo land, it begins tolook as if those five million cubic feetof gas may come in handy after all.

Another interesting result of thiscooperation of industry and science

was the interest of the D epartm ent ofState. As soon as facts becam e public,D r. Nusbaum was asked to furnishpictures of the monster machines andof the archeological findings alongtheir right of way with brief explana-tions to be published and distributedin many foreign lands where the im-pression exists that the United Statesis a land of great industrialists, butthat there is little attention paid tosome of the less material aspects ofnational living.

Because of the rich treasure foundalong the right of way of this firstgreat pipe line through prehistoric In-dian country, D r. Nusbaum is eyeingwith anticipation the routes of fiveother proposed lines originating inTexas and New Mexico to carry nat-ural gas or oil to California, the PacificNorthwest, Nevad a and Utah. One ofthem has already begun. Extending973 miles from Plains, Texas, to King-man, Arizona, it is the new project ofthe El Paso Gas Company.

Scarcely had the machines and menbeen gathered together to prepare the

right of way for laying of gas pipe lineacross another tangent of the South-west when D r. Nusbaum was calledinto conference. Soon again, over pub-lic lands and private and corporateholdings, archeologists will precedemonster bulldozers and trenchers onthe pipe line trail. Once again pricelessand irreplaceable pages in Americanhistory will be saved to piece togetherthe jig-saw puzzle of prehistoric manin the Southwest.

W E S T E R N P A I N T I N G SB Y O L A F W I E G H O R S T

Mrs. Harriet A . D ay, director ofthe D esert Magazine Art Gallery, an-nounces a special exhibit of 30 West-ern paintings by Olaf Wieghorst, Jan-uary 31 to February 15. Wieghorst,one of California's leading Westernartists, is especially famous for hishorses and corral scenes. The galleryis located in the foyer of the D esertMagazine Pueblo, on Highway 111 inPalm D esert, California, and is opendaily from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m.16 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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Hopi leather craftsmen, Everett Tow ahongeva and Gray Lomayma, who havefound profitable employm ent making Squaw B oots for the white trade.Photo by Mildred Clouse

Ancient Leather Craft RevivedWHITE MEN first cameto the Southwest they foundthe Navajos, Zunis, Hopis andmany other tribesmen wearing a softbuckskin type of ankle-high moccasinthat represented very fine craft workin leather.In recent years, as the white man'sfootgear became available for thetribesmen, those who could afford todo so have gradually been adoptingthe factory-made shoes except onceremonial occasions when the Indi-ans almost invariably revert to thetraditional attire of their forebears.The craft of making their own foot-gear might eventually have vanishedfrom many of the tribes had it notbeen for the interest of traders anddealers in Indian goods who saw thecommercial possibilities of the Indianboots.The Indians in limited areas wereencouraged to make these shoes forthe market, and their product hasbeen widely advertised under the nameof "Squaw Boo ts." They are findingever-increasing popularity for homewear because of their trim snug-fittingappearance and extreme comfort.Most of the boots made today find

use in one of three categories : (1 )for their own family use (they areworn by men, women and children),(2) for barter to traders and dealersin Indian goods, and (3) for their ownceremonial purposes.The authentic Navajo squaw bootis truly a masterpiece of Indian crafts-mansh ip. The sole, which curls upslightly around the foot, is made ofdurable hand-moulded rawhide, theuppers of soft, tanned buckskinthetwo being invisibly hand stitched to-

gether on the inside of the boot. Thisstitching is functional as well as uniqueno threads are exposed to be caughtand torn on rough desert vegetation.And the stitching is so close and finenot a grain of sand can work its wayinto the inside of the boot to chafe thefoot of the wearer. Soft and pliab le,the boot is fashioned in such mannerit fits snugly around the ankle andacross the top of the footthus givingsome arch support from above ratherthan from below.

The Hopis, hardy independent peo-ple whose home is on the mesas ofnorthern Arizona, are known to bethe world's greatest runners. Thereare accounts of Hopi young men whohave run over a hundred miles with-out stopping. Is it possible the bootsthey wore had anything to do withthese rem arka ble feats? Mo re likelythe answer resides in the vigorous, dur-able nature of the Hopis themselvesand yet the Hopis wear one form ofthe squaw boot.Ideally suited for desert wear, thesquaw boot has a shape and characterof its own, totally unlike the low, flatmoccasin of the plains or easternAmerican Indian.

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A N O L D T I M E R S H E D S N E W L I G H T O N A F A M O U S L O S T L O D ET h e L o s t D u t c h m a n M i n e . . .By MARY L. BAGWELL

STARK AND mysterious, theSuperstition Mountain rangerises abruptly from a wide andsparsely vegetated desert mesa 36miles northeast of Phoenix, Arizonaa monument to the countless pros-pectors, adventurers and lost mineseekers who, seeking Jacob Walzer'sLost Dutchman gold, have found onlydeath in its perilous canyons.Low clouds hung like a shroud overthe summits as I neared the range,traveling east from Phoenix on High-

way 60. Giant saguaros covered thelandscape, sharing ground with mes-quite, prickly pear and cholla. Near-ing Superior, the highway crosses andrecrosses winding Queen Creek's swiftwaters, rushing downward from itssource in the Pinal Mountains.Five miles west of Superior 1 turnedonto an unpaved country road andbumped westward for ten miles or soto a small house almost hidden bydense undergrowth of cactus, catsclaw,mesquite and paloverde.This is the home of Herman Pe-trasch which he built in 1934 fromhandhewn local timber and scraps ofmaterial. Herman is 88 years old, anative of Germany and the brotherof Rinehart Petrasch who was a closefriend of Jacob Walzer for many yearsbefore the Dutchman's death.Inside Herman's house the walls arelined with shelves of souvenir maga-zines and weather-yellowed books. Alow wood burning cook stove squatsin one corner against a background ofwell scrubbed pots and pans. A single

bed with sturdy canvas cover, a coaloil lamp, an extra shirt and overallshanging from nails in the wall, a tablethat serves as both desk and diningboard, two straight chairs and a pairof rockers complete the one room'sfurnishings. One of the straight chairssupports two double-barreled shotgunsprotected from dust and insects bytin cans placed over the muzzles.Everything in the room is neat, orderlyand convenient.This is home to Herman Petrascha minimum of material comforts withbonus quantities of peace and solitudeand fresh mountain air. Visits fromclose friends, letters, current magazinesand several hobbies provide him withample entertainment. Often he justsits outside his humble home, viewing

"Stuff and Nonsense," old-timerHerman Petrasch calls most of thestories he's read about the LostDutchman Mine, Jacob Walzer'sfabulously rich gold ledge in theSuperstition Mountains of Arizona.For Petrasch claims to know thereal story, as he heard it from hisbrother, Rinehart Petrasch, a closefriend of Walzer. Here are newclues for the lost mine seekerand a warning to all who chal-lenge "the curse of the Supersti-tions."

the surrounding country and recallingthe many memories it holds for him.He has lived in the Superstition coun-try for 60 years.Herman came to Arizona in 1892to help his brother look for the OldJake Mine, as the Lost Dutchman wascalled at that time. Each of us settledcomfortably in a rocker, he told methe story."My brother had come to Arizonaseven years before Jacob Walzer'sdeath and his name was Walzer,W-a-1-z-e-r, not 'Waltz' or 'Walz' asmany people insist," Herman pointedout"and obtained work in Walzer'sbakery in Phoenix. At that time theDutchman lived in an adobe buildingin South Phoenix, near the Salt Riverwhere he owned several acres of land."In the spring of 1891, the Saltflooded, and Walzer's home was al-most completely swept away. Heclimbed a fruit tree and saved himselffrom drowning, but when found hewas partially paralyzed and suffering

from exposure and shock. The ordealwas too much for an old man of 82years, and he died six months later,October 8, 1891. Rinehart buried him,for during the years of their associationthey had become close friends. Wal-zer's body still lies in the old Phoenixcemetery, in a plot now marked 'Lot1 9 , Grave No. 4.' Not many yearslater my brother was buried besidehim.

"It was late in the fall of 1891 thatRinehart wrote to me about Walzer'sdeath and asked me to come to Ari-zona to help him search for the richmine Jacob had found in the Super-stition Mountains.

"I arrived in the early part of 1892,and for some time we searched theSuperstitions for the lost gold ledge.

However, with a family to support 1soon was forced to find steady employ-ment. I obtained a job with the ReavisRanch, originally owned by E. A.Reavis and situated about 25 milesfrom Jacob Walzer's claim. Some sayReavis and the Dutchman were closefriends. He raised vegetables and fruitand peddled them to all the little min-ing communities in the early days.

"On one trip to Florence, Reaviswas ambushed and murdered. Afterhis death, Jack Frazier became ownerof the properties. Will Knight was hisforeman and I worked for him. Laterowners were Mark Twain Clemens,Jim 'Tex' Barkley, Bill Martin andHuly Bacon. I stayed on and knew allthese men."Jacob Walzer was a native of Ger-many," Herman recalled, "and a soberman of good character, contrary tomany legends. Although he did keepwine in his cellar and offered it tofriends when they visited him. he re-fused to drink himself."Almost immediately after arrivingin the United States, Walzer had cometo Arizona. A business man, he spenthis spare time prospecting for gold.He and a friend, Jacob Wiser, went onfrequent journeys together into theSuperstitions. However, no one knewthey had found a mine until he toldmy brother and Mrs. Julia Thomas,Walzer's octaroon housekeeper, a shorttime before his death."The mine, which Walzer called the'Placer,' was discovered in 1869. Onone of their trips, he and Wiser hadcamped near a good spring not far

from the base of what is now calledWeaver's Needle, a sharp isolatedpeak in this range of mountains. Fromtheir camp they could walk to thePlacer and to the 'Quartz', a secondmine about a mile farther."The Placer was discovered as theywalked through the canyon along thebed of a creek where soil erosion hadexposed a ledge of almost pure goldabout 20 inches wide."This rare and spectacular find theymined by making an excavation on agradual incline four inches wider oneach side than the deposit of ore. Itwas just wide enough to work in andnot too hard to conceal when theymade a trip into Phoenix, Florence orGlobe to dispose of a small amount of

o r e . Walzer was afraid to carry too18 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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much gold on any one trip, and, as henever craved wealth, his wants weresimple and easily satisfied."The Quartz was discovered later.While working on the Placer one day,the two men heard sounds of rocksbeing broken . They investigated andfound two Spaniards working an oldmine which proved equal in richnessto the Placer. From the Spaniardsthey learned that there were eightSpanish mines in the near vicinity.Later the Spaniards were found slainand Wiser and Walzer buried them atthe murder site."This occurred in 1882. Walzerand his partner did not work theQuartz, as its hidden entrance affordedno look-out opportunity and wastherefore dangerously vulnerable tosurprise attack. They carefully con-cealed its location and returned to

work the Placer."Sometime during their many tripsinto the mountains the partners builta native wood and adobe hut near thespring. It undo ubted ly fell into ruinlong ago, but its pile of rubble prob-ably provides a good landmark to thelost mine area."I asked Herman if he ever had felthe was close to the Placer.He shook his head . "Man y peoplehave gone into the Superstitions tolook for the Lost D utchman M ine,"he said, "and their greed has cost themtheir lives. I have don e a little search -ing, yes, but I'm afraid to look toofar. I believe the mines are not mea ntto be found."There's a curse on the gold," Her-man continued. "I am not a super-stitious manexcept in regard to thesemoun tains. There is a curse on thosemountain slopes and canyon walls, acurse which has existed since earlyterritorial days when the Spaniardsand Indians first started to quarrel.

Many fierce battlesnotably the mas-sacre at Walnut Canyonhave beenfought between white men and red inthese mountainsand the reason formost of the bloodshed was gold."Herman got up from his chair andcrossed to his front door. He pointedto the north. "Straight north of hereover there," he indicated, "is IronMountain; a little west is White Moun-tain. Th ere are two old Spanish minesthere, making ten that I know of inthe Superstitions."Selecting a book from the crowdedshelves, he thumbed through to Th eLegend of the Lost Dutchman Mine."There's very little truth in this," helaughed. "Mostly stuff and nonsense."About two years ago, Clayton L.

Herm an Petrasch has lived in Arizona's Superstition M ountain countryfor 60 of his 88 years. His brother, Rinehart Petrasch, was a close friendof Jacob W alzer whose Lost Dutchma n Mine is believed to lie near

Wea ver's Needle in the Superstitions.Worst of Fairview, Montanaa 'his-torical field explorer' he called himselftold me that there had been morethan a thousand different stories toldabout the Lost D utchman M ine. Mostare ridiculous, of course; but the factsI gave him compared favorably, hesaid, with those he'd obtained yearsago from a native of Old Mexico. TheMexican man had remained in theTerritory of Arizona for many yearsafter the battle of Walnut Canyon, andhe was able to relate with accuracymuch of the early history of the state.

"Several people have come to mefor the story of the Lost D utchm an,but they never write down what I sayas you have don e. You have the factsas they were given me by my brother and Rinehart learned them fromJacob Walzer himself. Maybe thisstory will bring others to these moun-tains to look for the lost gold ledge. Iwish them luck. And if wealth canbring them happiness, 1 hope they canconquer the curse of the Superstitionsand find the riches which have lainhidden so long."

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The Ghost ofthe Nevada HillsBy NELL MURBARGERPhotos by the AuthorMap by Norton Allen7HE D AY was a scorcher. Sinceearly morning July's sun hadbeen beating down on the dryhills of Southern Ne vada. Even thecottonwoods along Caliente's mainstreet seemed gripped in a strangelethargy, their yellowing dust-powd-ered leaves hanging motionless in thedead air.

General view of the ghost town of DeLamar, Nevada, looking northfrom Nob Hill toward the Meadow Valley range.I knocked on the door, and almostbefore 1 had a chance to introd ucemyself I was seated in the pleasant liv-ing room with a refreshing glass of icewater, and my hosts and I were talkingas if we had been friends for half alifetime.After explaining my interest inghost towns and especially in theghost town of D eLa ma r I asked if

it would be possible for either of thePaces to accompany me there, not onlyto show me the road but to guide meabout the place."Yes indeed," Frank Pace noddedaffably. "I never pass up a chanc e togo to D eLam ar. How 'bout you,Motherwant to take a ride out tothe old camp?"For answer, Vilate Pace began re-moving her apron and hunting a scarfto tie over her head.

Dust devils still play on the abandoned tailing dumps of DeLamar,Nevada, swirling the silica dust which during boom days gave thegold camp the epithet, "man-killer." Frank and Vilate Pace lived inDeLamar during its heyday and they remember the mines running atcapacity, the beautiful homes on Nob Hill, Shaefer's Grand OperaHouse and the terrible fire of 1900. Telling the Paces' story, NellMurbarger recalls the past of another ghost town of the Southwest.With a final glance at my pencileddirections, 1 drove on p ast the tow nhall, made a sharp turn and climbeda short hill. Th ere, at the head of thestreet, stood the big gray house I hadcome more than 200 miles to find. Inthat house, according to information1 had been given, lived Mr. and Mrs.Frank Pacetwo of the few personsliving who had shared in the goldboom days at D eLam ar, Nevada, morethan half a century ago.

Leaving Calicnte on U.S. 93, wesoon passed the four-mile side roadto beautiful Kershaw Canyon StatePark and started up a long ravinsthat cuts through the southern tip ofthe High land range. Skirting a color-fully-banded cliff on our right, we



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climbed through the narrow windingcanyon for nearly five miles beforeemerging on a high plateau sprinkledthinly with junipers, mountain mahog-any and rabbit bush. Abo ut ten mileswest of town, we topped the summitof Oak Springs Pass, 6250 feet abovesea level. We had climbed more than1800 feet since leaving Caliente, andthe temperature had grown noticeablycooler.Continuing toward the west, wedropped into a forest of Joshua trees.Growing on this high, dry plateau,these prickly members of the yuccaclan are quite different in appearancefrom the fine big Joshuas that fringethe road across the border near Victor-ville, California. He re, at the extremenorthern limit of their range, the treesare small and scrubby, with abbrevi-ated trunks and short leavesa differ-ence botanists have recognized by set-ting this type apart in a sub-varietyknown as Yucca brevifolia var. jaeger-iana, honoring the naturalist, EdmundC. Jaeger, who first described them.Stretching away to the north of ourroad lay the sullen white vastness ofD ry Lake Valley, where tall dust twist-ers moved endlessly across the flat.Bordering the valley on the west wasthe long hot line of the barren Pah-rocks, gaunt-ribbed and hostile.There was not a building, a fence,or a domestic animal as far as the eyecould reach. Twentieth century prog-

ress had entered the land, it was true,but only to the extent of the pavedroad we were traveling and the tallsteel standards of the power line.Emerging endlessly from the southand disappearing into the north, thesesilvery giants and their looping cablesprovide an electric bridge between thegreat turbines of Hoover D am and themines and mills of Pioche.After passing under the power line,Frank indicated a left turn on a dustydesert road that soon angled back tothe line and headed south, following

the power standards. Our way con-tinued through the Joshua forest. Cre-osote bushes also had made their ap-pearance. Here and there were plantsof cane cactus, and occasionally thetissue-paper blooms of a thistle poppyappeared in the dust alongside theroad.Numerous trails branched from theroad on either side, and Frank peeredtoward the distant hills as though insearch of some landm ark. Five andone-half miles south of the highwayhe indicated another left turn, and we

headed southeast on a long straightroad, a single lane's width and pockedwith chuckholes.Suddenly the old D eLam ar cem eteryappeared on our righta few granite

Ruins o f bank and assay office at DeLam ar, Nevada.and marble slabs, a few old iron rail-ings and many wooden headboards allenclosed within the sagging strands ofa barbed-wire fence.D irectly across the road from thegraveyard was a caving foundationand a cellar."That was 'Old Man' Nelson's tollstation," said Mrs. Pace. "For the firstseveral years after the strike at D eLa -mar, the only way a vehicle could getinto camp was the long way aroundover a terrible road. We though t itwas pretty fine when this toll roadmade it possible for us to drive rightover the hill into town."Mr. Nelson charged only 25 centsfor each rig, but sometimes driverswould try to sneak by the station with-out paying," she laughed. "The oldman kept a shotgun handy, and folksused to say he would chase a rig half-way to D eLa ma r to collect his toll."But many years had passed sinceMr. Nelson collected his last fee, andwithout any fear of shotgun reprisal

we continued on up the hill on the oldtoll road which wound around themountain like a thin strangling vine.Nearing the summit of the grade, Ilet the car coast to a stop. Ah ead ofus , possibly a mile, rose the bare westwall of the Meadow Valley range; anddown in the swale between that escarp-ment and our point of vantage wasspread the disintegrating skeleton ofD eLam ar once the greatest gold-producing camp in this part of thestate.D irectly at our feet lay the starkblack timbers of the D eL am ar millwith its mountains of creamy-whitetailings spilling away below. To thesouth and west lay the Hiko rangeand the broad flatness of D eLam arValley and the Pahranagat, early dayhide-out of cattle rustler and fugitive.Over this wide dry expanse to thesouth had crossed the Manly party of1849, en route to D eath Valley andthe hardships and tragedy it held instore.

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Frank drew my attention to thetailing dum ps. Wh ere we were stand-ing on the old road, the lazy Julywind was scarcely strong enough tostir the leaves of the creosotes, yetthere was rising from the tailing pilesa fantastic spiral of dust, as dense andwhite as sea fog. Mo unting into thesky, this dust column eventually metwith a heavier current of air, flattenedagainst it and slowly disintegrated intonothingness."That dust ," said Frank, "is Cam-brian quartzite more than 80 per-cent silica. W ith this little bree zehaving that effect on the packed tail-ings, you can imagine what it was likewhen all the mines and mills wereoperating at capacity! No wonder thecamp was known as a man-killer!"Most of the work," he continued,"was done by farm boys who cameover from the Mormon settlements insouthwestern Uta h. They had nevereven heard of silicosisbut after threeor four months in the mines and millat D eLam ar, they would start cough-ing. Som e died in a few w eeks ; other shung on for yearstoo sick to work,too stubborn to die."The air was so impregnated withsilica dust that even women and chil-dren who never went near the minesor mills would occasionally contractsilicosis. Even horses eventually diedfrom the dust."The original strike at D eLa ma r, saidFrank, had been made in 1892. Abouta year later, several of the leadingclaims had been purchased for $150,-000 by Capt . John D e La Mar, aprominent promoter and developer ofthat day. Laid out soon afterward,the town had been given an Ameri-

canized version of the French nameand had built up rapidly. M ost of itsoriginal settlers and merchants hademigrated from Pioche, and many ofD eLam ar's first buildings had beenmoved intact from the older town.In 1895, Capt . D e La Mar hadinstalled a barrel chlorination plant.After passing dry through a coarsecrusher, the ore had been carried toGriffin mills, of which there were 13in numb er. It was this meth od of dryhandling that had given rise to theterrific mortality rate.Little was done to improve the situ-ation until about 1900 when SimonBambergcr of Salt Lake City boughtthe D e La Mar property, piped waterfrom Meadow Valley and changed themilling process from chlorination tocyanide."The introduction of wet millingeliminated a lot of the dust," saidFra nk . "Bu t it was still terrible!"'Coasting on down the grade intotown, I soon learned that I might havesearched the world over without find-ing two better qualified gu ides. Evenin its present state of chaos, the Paceswere thoroughly at home in D eLam ar.This big stone ruin, they would ex-plain, had been Roeder's general store.The McNamee dance hall had stoodon this lot; the Oddfellows and Ma-sonic hall had been over there; thehospital, across the ravine."That knoll," said Vilate, indicatinga low brown hill at the south edge oftown , "was called No b Hill. It wascompletely covered with homessomeof the grandest places in town !" Thehill she indicated was bare and rocky.Scarring its surface were many oldstone foundations, a few prospect

holes, a few Joshua treesbut not onewall was standing intact."I was just a school girl when Icame to D eLam ar," Vilate Pace wassaying. "I had been born at Panaca.a little Mormon town about 40 milesfrom here. The re were 14 of us inthe family, and after our father andmother died in their early forties, weyoungsters had to shift for ourselves.There weren't many opportunities tomake money at Panaca, but the boomwas getting underway at D eLam ar.When my older brothers heard theycould earn three dollars a day in themines, it seemed almost too good tobe true! My older sisters thought they,also, might be able to get work, andI tagged along."I had never been away from home.The day we boarded the stagecoachfor D eLam ar, I couldn 't have beenmore excited if we had been startingaround the world!"It was long after dark when wecaught our first sight of town," shecontin ued . "All this flat was coveredwith homes and shops, and the wholeplace was ablaze with bright lights. Ithought I had never seen anything sobeautiful or wonderful in my wholelife. And th en, when I saw the fine,big stores all filled with gorgeousdresses and hats, and hair-ribbons andjewelryI simply had to pinch myselfto make sure I wasn't dreaming!"At that t ime," she went on, "D e-Lamar was the largest city in SouthernNevada, and we had lots of good times.The Atkins orchestra played for dancesalmost every week. The town bandgave free concerts, and traveling showcompanies played at Max Shaefer'sGrand Opera House. The Shaefer



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Gra nd was a splendid building. It hadcost $10,000 to build and was con-sidered the finest theater in SouthernNevada."Our greatest lack was water. Evenafter it was pumped over the rangefrom Meadow Valley, it still had tobe hauled from the end of the pipelineto the houses and cost us 50 cents abarrel."I had been at DeLamar twomonths when the big fire struck in1900,"" recalled Vilate Pace. "It waslate in the afternoon of May 29 whenthe fire broke out in a lean-to on Ed-wa rds' saloon. It had been very hotand dry for weeks. Everything waslike tinder, and in a matter of mo-ments, buildings on both sides of thesaloon were ablaze. After that, therewas no stopping it. We w ere livingon Nob Hill at that time, and couldsee all over town from our front porch.

"I can remember how horrified wewere as we watched the Shaefer Grandburn to the ground. From there, thefire swept on through main street, lev-eling one business building after an-other. The wh ole flat soon was arolling sea of flame and smoke."The fire department finally re-sorted to dynamiting buildings in thepath of the fire. They eventually gotit under controlbut not until mostof the business section lay in ruinsand hundreds of persons were home-less. Armed guards patrolled the

streets all night to guard against loot-ing.""And that," put in Frank, "washow I found things when I arrived inD eLam ar for the first time!"Shortly after the camp opened, twoof Frank's elder brothers had left thefamily home at St. George, Utah, toenter the mercantile business at D e-Lam ar. By the spring of 1900, busi-ness was booming in the new campand they had written home that Frankcould go to work for Henry W. Milesof the D eLam ar Mercantile company."I was only 15 years old, and theidea of having an important job in arip-roaring mining camp really thrilledme," laughed Frank. "I think I im-agined six-shooters popping on everycorner and dead men lying in thestreet."But when I stepped off the stage-coach at D eL am ar," he grinned, "allI found was charcoal and wreckage!"Almost before the embers hadcooled, however, the work of rebuild-ing had begun. By 1 901 , the townwas largely restored to its formerglory.Beginning of the new century hadfound D eLam ar the leading gold pro-ducing camp in Nevad a. Handlingaround 400 tons of ore daily, the D e-

M r, and Mrs. Frank Pace of Caliente, Nevada, were among the earlysettlers at DeLamar, and they have many memories of theghost camp's boom days.Lamar mill was turning out from$100,000 to $200,000 in bullion eachmon th. The April Fool mill also wasoperating at this time, and around 400men were employed in the mines."Whenever the mill shipped bullion,the stage would go out loaded withshotgun guards and presumably carry-ing a fortune in gold, but this was justa blind ," said Vilate. "Th e bullionactually went out in an ordinary freightwagon without even a guard!"Frank and Vilate met soon afterhis arrival at D eLam ar, and it was notlong until they decided to be married.As they were only 17 years of age, itwas necessary for both to have theconsent of legal guardians."When we asked our families aboutit," said Mrs. Pace, "they didn't eventake us seriously enough to actshocked. They just laughed at us! Butby 1906 we were old enough to marrywithout asking permission of anyone

and we didn't lose any time doinuit!"By 1906, however, the mines werebeginning to close, and D eLam ar hadseen its best days. Ma ny of the min ersleft to join the new excitement at Gold-field. The newly-wed Paces decidedto follow the crowd.With their depa rture from D eLa ma r,the Paces quickly succumbed to theglamour and excitement of the boomcam ps. They w ere living at Goldfieldwhen they heard that D eLam ar hadgiven its last gasp and died.In September, 1909, after the campwas credited officially with the pro-duction of $25,000,000 in gold, andunofficial "estimates" of productionran as high as $80,000,000, the lastmine had closed. The mills had groundto a stop, and the power plant inMeadow Valley, across the range, hadshut off its gene rators. As a finaldramatic touch, the mine and millJ A N U A R Y , 19 5 4


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whistles had been tied down and per-mitted to blow until the last spark ofpower had been exhausted.Three years later, free-spendingGoldfield suffered virtually the samefate. The Paces had drifted on toTonopah and, eventually, to Califor-nia, where their one son was born. Buttheir hearts were too deeply rooted inNevada's highland desert to be happyany other place, and in 1913 they re-turned to Lincoln county and estab-lished themselves in the big house atCaliente. And there they have re-mained for 45 years.

"What about that treasure that'ssupposed to be buried at D eLa mar? "I inquired."Treasure?" repeated Frank. "Whattreasure?""Why, an old timer at Pioche wastelling me about it," I answ ered. "H esaid that in the early days one of thelocal mine officials had connived withan assayer and they had high-gradeda lot of company bullion around$70,000 worth. This official buriedthe loot, and then he died before he

could reclaim the bullion and makehis getaway.""Folks have been telling variousversions of that story for almost 50years," Fran k said. "Hu ndred s ofmen have hunted for the bullion.They've searched the whole area withdoodlebugs and metal detectors andevery contrivance under the sunbutthe bullion's still lost! One old manswore he knew where it was buried.Several times he was right on the pointof showing me the spot. But he neverquite did itand now, he's dead too."Pausing, Frank Pace let his gazewander over the crumbling ruins ofD eLam ar and on to the Southwest,where mountain-hemmed valleys werenow brimming with the purple hazeof evening.

"Y'know," he continued, "that oldfellow dropped some powerfully stronghints, and I've always had a sneakingidea I know where that gold is buried.Sometimewhen it 's a little cooler"he winked at Vilate "i think 1 maycome back to D eLam ar and do a littleprospecting!"

T R U E OR F A L S E You'll have to know a bit ofgeography, western history, bot-any, mineralogy and generallore of the desert coun try to get a perfect sc ore in this quiz. If you d on 'tknow all the answers, this is a good place to learn some of them. An danyway, there are no penalties for getting a poor grade in this school ofthe desert. The answers are on page 40.1A rattlesnak e can not strike without first coiling. True . False .2Lowest elevation in the United States is at the foot of Bright AngelTrail in Gran d Cany on. True False3The present Salton Sea in the Colorado desert of California is lessthan 50 years old. Tru e ....... False .4 Hoov er dam is located in Boulder Canyon. True . False5 Gold ore is always yellow. True . False6Sunset Crater, in northern Arizona, was active within the memory ofIndians now living. Tru e False7The Pueblo Indians of New Mexico fire their pottery in oven-likekilns especially built for the purp ose . True . False8A north and south line through El Paso, Texas, would be west ofSanta Fe, New Mexico.9 The goat nut or jojoba is a perennial shrub. True . Fa ls e. . .....10150 pounds is not an excessive load for the average burro to carry.True __.. False .11 D iamond is the hardest of all the precious gems. True . False12 Stope is a term used in mining. Tru e Fals e...13 The Gila Mo nster is a native of California. True . False14Scotty's Castle in D eath V alley was financed with gold from D eathValley Scotty's mines. True . False .15The Mormons migrated to Utah under the personal leadership of thefounder of their churc h, Joseph Smith. True . False .. ....16The territory involved in the Gadsden Purchase was acquired fromMexico. True . False .17Lee's Ferry on the Colorado River in northern Arizona is still in

operation. True False18The book, Gold, Guns and Ghost Towns, was written by W. A. Chal-fant. True False19 Camino is a Spanish word mean ing mo untain . Tru e . False.__.20 A Jackrabbit Homestead generally is f ive acres. True . F al se . . . .

So far Rae Von D ornum has a per-fect sales record in the magazine writ-ing field. Her first story, "The Curseof Kchama," won an honorable men-tion in Desert Magazine's Life-on-the-D esert contest. It app ears in this issue.Though a newcomer to the magazinefield, Miss Von D ornum has beenactively engaged in other writing. Sheis a weekly columnist for the Hender-son Home News, which also servesher present home town of Pittman,Nevada, and she long has dabbled inpoetry as a hobby.Other hobbies are represented byher collections of mineral specimensand sun-colo red glass. Previous resi-dence in the history-rich mining townsof Tonopah, Goldfield and Beatty gaveher an interest in mining, and she en-joys frequent rockhunting trips. Freda Walbrecht is an old hand atmaking hikes like the one she describesin her story, "Through 'The Narrows'to Zion," in this issue of Desert Mag-azine.Miss Walbrecht was the first womanto climb all 15 of the 14,00 0-footmountain peaks on the Pacific Coast,and she is one of the two persons (SamFink was the first) to climb all of the192 named Southern California moun-tains over 5000 feet.Whenever she can leave her LosAngeles law practice for a weekend,Attorney Walbrecht takes a trip tomo untains or desert. She is an activemember of the Southern CaliforniaSierra Club and helped organize thegroup's D esert Peaks Section. Interviewing old-timers for a storyshe planned to contribute to a localSunday supplement, Mary Bagwell metHerman Petrasch and heard his storyof the Lost D utchman M ine. She re-peats the old man's version of thefamous lost lode in this issue of Des-ert Magazine.Mrs. Bagwell was born a half cen-tury ago on her parents' farm in Van-zandt County, Texas, the tenth of 14children. When she was 18, she mar-ried J. O. Bagwell, son of a farmneighbor, and three years later theymoved to Superior, Arizona, whereher husband has been an electricianfor Magma Copper Company for 25years.Her own four children grown andestablished in homes of their own,Mrs. Bagwell became active in youthwelfare work and personally super-vises a group of 4-H girls.



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M I N E S a n d M I N I N GWashington, D. C. . . .The United States will double pro-duction of uranium ore in this nationwithin two to three years, Jesse C.Johnson, manager of the Raw Ma-terials Operation, Atomic Energy Com-mission, told a Senate subcommitteeseeking to determine the mineral self-sufficiency of the nation in time ofwar. John son said that the U. S. al-ready has increased its uranium pro-duction about four times since WorldWar II, and more than 525 producerson the Colorado Plateau are shippingore to nine uranium mills. Howev er,with the high target goals that havebeen set for the Atomic Energy Com-mission, "we will need all the uraniumwe can get from both domestic andforeign sources," he said. Salt LakeTribune. Bishop, California . . .Contact D evelopment Company hasintroduced a new method of treatingtungsten ores in the Bishop region. Thecompany moves its portable mill,mounted on skids, to various depositsto concentrate ores. Use of such mo-bile plants is expected to spread rap-idly to other tungsten areas, as theportable units make possible treatmentof ore from small deposits where schee-lite is not sufficiently rich to w arra ntshipment to custom plants. MiningRecord. Moab, Utah . . .The known deposit of rich ore onCharlie Steen's uranium discovery onthe Colorado Plateau was widened inNovember when core drilling opera-tions cut high grade ore on the UtexTe Quiero claim. Twenty-five feetaveraged .69 percent with 15 consecu-tive feet assaying better than one per-cent uranium. Pioche Record.

Fallon, Nevada . . .Harry Howard, well known Fallonmining man, has negotiated a contractfor 15 patented claims known as theSilver Palace at Grantsville in NyeCoun ty. How ard took an option onthe claims from Ed Berryman andcompleted the sale to Paul Litell ofCarson City and Auburn, California.The pro perty is located 100 miles fromFallon and 52 miles north of Tonopah.Engineers' reports indicate that 50tons of oretungsten, lead silver andzinc with tungsten predominating can be produced for a period of fiveyears without any further development.The mill building has already beenbuilt, and machines are to be movedin immediately. Humboldt Star.

Las Vegas, Nevada . . .Production from the kilns of theManganese Ores Company, which hadbeen shut down since a fire early lastsummer, was resumed in November,working on the stockpile accumulatedwhile the kilns and mill were idle. Themill was expected to be back in opera-tion the first of the year. Las VegasReview-Journal. o Tonopah, Nevada . . ."We've really got a mine now," saidSuperintendent Frank Kennicott whendevelopment work at Summit KingMine definitely established that a largebody of ore had been uncovered at the550-foot level. Kennicott estimatedthat the ore would average about $50a ton, with some spots going as highas $150 and better. These were typi-cal values in the original strike; sincethe new find is a continuation of thatore body, there is good reason to be-lieve that values will remain the sameand possibly higher, the superintendentreasoned. Tonopah Times-Bonanza. Fallon, Nevada . . .Four fluorspar properties are ship-ping custom ore to the Kaiser Alumi-num and Chemical Corporation inFallon in addition to the mill's princi-pal source of fluorspar from thecompany's mine near Broken Hills.Charles Cirac's Box Canyon property22 miles north of Stillwater has beenproducing since August; Joe and BobKeller have been supplying about 200tons of fluorspar a month from twoprop erties, one in D ixie Valley andthe other in Iowa Canyon above Aus-tin; and a fourth property, owned byC. J. Smith and R. L. Tiefel, is fur-nishing ore from Venice Canyon nearlone. The company's Broken Hillmine has been producing steadily sincethe mill opened last year. FallonStandard. Tonopah, Nevada . . .Gold ore as low as $5 per ton issaid to be commercially profitablewhen processed in a newly inventedcentrificator mill. The small mill,weighing only 75 pounds, will disposeof 25 tons of crushed ore during aneight-hour shift. The dry ore is spunin the mill and concentrates depositedon one side, waste on the opposite.Invented by Edward Parr, former Yer-ington resident, the mill has been inuse at the Lambert titanium mine inSolomon Canyon, California, with re-ported excellent results. TonopahTim es-Bonanza.

Henderson, Nevada . . .Capacity of Titanium Metals Cor-poration's unit in the former BasicMagnesium Plant has steadily in-creased since it began operation in1 9 5 1 . Production, which was one tondaily when the plant first opened, isexpected to reach 10 tons a day beforethe end of the year. Titan ium MetalsCorporation is the only titanium pro-ducer today whose integration runsfrom mining to selling the fabricatedmetal. It draw s ore supplies from Na -tional Lead, processes them in ingots atHenderson and utilizes the Alleghany-Ludlum Steel Company's facilities forfabrication of sheet metal, strip bars,forgings and wire.California MiningJournal. Ely, Nevada . . .Work on the big new copper pit tosupplement the D eep Ruth pit in Eas t-ern Nevada is to get under way im-mediately, according to John C. Kin-ner, Jr., general manager for the Ne-vada Mines D ivision of Ken necottCop per Co rporation . The pit, to beknown as the Veteran, is expected toyield 20 million tons of slightly lessthan one perce nt copper ore. It willbe 2500 feet long, 1500 feet wide and660 feet deep . Estim ated yield is 500 0tons of ore per day, and the pit isexpected to last 10 or 12 years. Pioche Record. Yerington, Nevada . . .Production of more than 5,000,000pounds of copper precipitates a monthis scheduled before the end of the yearat Anaconda Copper Mining Com-pany's huge oxide deposit four mileswest of Yerington which went intooperation in November. The ore bodyis estimated to contain 35,000,000tons of comm ercial grade ore. Theopen pit in which mining is conductedis presently about 4000 feet long, 1700feet wide and more than 150 feetdeep. Anaconda is understood to haveexpended approximately $33,000,000on the project, which has an estimatedlife of 12 to 15 years. Pioche Rec-ord. Eureka, Nevada . . .Recent diamond drilling in theAdams Hill section of the Nevadaproperty of Eureka Corporation hasindicated a new ore body of excellentgrade . Th e deposit lies a mile or mo renorth of the Fad shaft workings andwas located at a depth of about 900feet, somewhat above the horizonwhere the Fad workings encounteredextreme water problems. Preliminaryresults in the new section suggest agross grade of about $100 per ton inlead-zinc, gold and silver over a thick-ness of 12 to 15 feet. Pioche Record.

J A N U A R Y , 1 9 5 25


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The desert packrat (Neotoma orolestes) will steal almost anything he can carryaway, often leaving something in exchange. Photo by N. H. Kent,U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service.

By MARGARET OSBORN7HE PACKRAT is a thievinglittle scoundrel who will stealanything from anybody. But,although he can purloin an amazingamount and variety of merchandise,the better one gets to know him, theeasier it is to forgive the little klepto-maniac. Eventually, he provides asmuch amusement as he does vexation.More like a squirrel than a rat, withhis fluffy tail and clean shiny fur, thepackrat has a friendly personality andconsiderable intelligence. He canknock a peach from a tree, jump downand roll it ahead of him, or wind histail around an egg and pull it behindhim. Fo r smaller loot, he makes useof special pockets in his mouth, de-signed by Nature for digestive pur-poses. Thes e he crams full of grain,buttons or anything else that will fit.The packrat likes his own kind, andhe likes peoplethe more people thebetter, for this means a greater varietyof interesting things to steal. Althou ghstrictly a country boy, preferring thedesert, he delights in taking advantageof civilization wherever he finds it. Heinvites himself to live with campers,miners and ranchersor as near asthey will allow him to come. He willmove into a cabin without encourage-

Robber Rat of the Desert...A pebble for a fountain pen that's fair exchange on thepackrat market. Margaret Os-born tells about the life andhabits of this vexing yet lovablerascal rat of the desert.

ment and bring his horde of posses-sions with him.If nobody tries to kill or catch him,he often becom es quite tame . Severalyears ago an Arizona prospector had apet packrat named Jake, who, theminer claimed, was the reincarnationof his deceased partn er. Acc ording tohim, the transmigration of soul was abig improvement. Jake danced, In-dian-hop style, on the kitchen tablewhich was better entertainment thanhe ever offered in human form.The packrat has other names woodrat and traderatthe latter, be-cause he usually leaves something inexchange for what he takes . Actu ally,he has no such honorable intentionsas trad ing. Even if he did, his idea ofmercantile values is certainly one-sided in his own favor. He merelydrops whatever he happens to be car-rying at the moment and picks upsomething he fancies more. Peop lewho know him are not surprised tofind a spoon missing and a cactus-

joint tucked in the silver drawer. Some-times he leaves nothing, but alwayshe takes something.Practically everything ends up inhis nest. Th at very fact proba bly m adea rancher near Socorro, New Mexico,quite happy. While riding the rangeone day, the cowboy lost his lowerplate. Some time later he decided toclean out the rats that were robbinghis feed supp ly. In a rat nest he foundhis missing teethspecial delivery.In constructing his nest, the pack-

rat is clever at making the most ofmaterials at hand. He collects almostanything portable and stacks it wher-ever he pleases, on the bare ground,in a roll of barbed wire or undersomebody 's house. The base of a mes-quite tree is the favorite foundationupon which he piles small sticks, cowchips, cactus and tin cans. Under allthis pile is often an excavation, some-times with several rooms, and thesticks are stacked so as to shed water.Occasionally he makes his home in arock ledge, filling every crevice withodds and ends.The packrat needs no sensible rea-son for busily picking up, transport-ing or piling any number of objects inany given place . Sometimes he willstack little rocks on big rocks, appar-



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ently just for fun. He will mo ve, oneat a time, pecans from a full gallonbucket and hide them under your bed,or haul 50 pounds of shelled cornfrom one side of the shed to the other.Unlike his town cousins, the pack-rat's sin is not wholesale destruction.He can, of course, gnaw until dooms-day, because his teeth have continuousroots and grow as they wear off. Hisfault is in what he can tote away,which is plenty. Since pac krat s rangeover almost all of North America, un-der one alias or another, a tremendousamount of loot disappears every day.The packrat also can be a big nuis-ance at night. Pattering around insidewalls, over roofs and under the house,a few packrats can sound like a cavalrycharg e. Even w orse, if several set theirlarcenous sights on the same object,the quarrel of squeaks and squeals isterrific. M ost of their battles, how ever,are verbal, and generally they seemfriendly toward each other.Proof of the little rascal's sociabilitywith his own kind is evident in thenumerous trails that lead from nest tonest. On the other hand, they may notbe visiting at all. M ore likely, theyare stealing from each other everyminute.

Facts from a Naturalist . . .D eath Valley, CaliforniaD esert :In the November issue of Desert,Vernon F. James writes that he is con-vinced snakes swallow their youngduring times of peril.James is, of course, entitled to hisopinion; but his particular account isa good example of why herpetologistswill continue to consider such reportedinstances as "old wive's tales" untilconclusive evidence is presented to thecontrary.James recites an incident about 30years ago near Lake Arrowhead, Cali-fornia, during which a rattlesnake ofundisclosed size and sex was shot in aburrow with a shotgun. When it wassubsequently dragged out, ten babyrattlers "fell out" of the snake.While the authenticity of this eventmay be readily accepted, the interpre-tation of just what occurred is almost

195401 Desert Magazine 1954 January

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