2095232-193911-Desert-Magazine-1939-November

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NOVEMBER, 1939 ANNIVERSARY NUMBER 25 CENTS

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Suit Lake City, UtahDear Mr. Henderson:

Have just read with interest Mr. White'sstory of the "sandspikes" in today's Desert.My theory is that these peculiar formations arepetrified gopher holes. There are several rea-sons for this theory. They are always thesame shape and always found in colonies.

The prehistoric gophers dug their holeswith a small burrow at the bottom. A flood,carrying silica and lime rilled in the holes.The whole formation was later turned to roc'-'.Thousands of years later the formation waseroded. The filling of the gopher holes provedto be harder than the surrounding rock, andthey weathered out, finally falling horizontalon the surface. They were then covered withwindblown sand.

The stem is the former gopher hole, andthe ball at the bottom is the burrow. Petrifiedgopher holes are a scientific fact, verified bythe Smithsonian experts. They have beenfound in the badlands of South Dakota.

CHARLES KELLY.

Reno, NevadaDear Mr. Henderson:

While on the desert collecting plants, I sawthis little tragedy, which I think bears telling.

A 5-foot diamondback rattlesnake with hertwo young were gliding through the sagebrush.Her head turned from side to side, her tongueflashing in and out. She sensed danger, stop-ped and coiled with her rattles buzzing.

A horde of brown crickets overtook thesnakes at that moment and immediately cov-ered the reptiles. The mother snake struck,landing three feet from her young. She coiledand struck again, but on her third attemptthe crickets weighted her down so she couldhardly lunge forward. She finally reached heryoung by lashing and fighting, but they werealready torn to pieces.

Unable to rid herself of this strange enemyshe struck herself twice but without apparenteffect. Within 20 minutes the rattler and heryoung were stripped of all flesh. The brownhorde marched on. Crickets coming from be-hind stopped briefly at the skeletons of thesnakes and eventually even the rattles wereconsumed.

TIM L. BREENE.

This unusual incident was witnessed a-long state highway 21 three miles fromBeowawe according to Mr. Breene. Thescourge of the crickets this summer wasso bad that motorists had to drive in lowgear to keep from skidding as hordes ojthe insects were crushed on the highway.

Roswell, New MexicoGentlemen:

Enclosed is check for $5.50 for which pleasesend me the November 1938 and January1939 issues of your magazine, and also threeyears' subscription beginning with February,1940 when my present term expires.

I need the numbers mentioned in order tocomplete my file. My first contact with yourmagazine was when I sneaked across the roadto Hilton's gem shop while my wife wasdrinking a date milk shake at Valerie Jean's.

When the people in the gem shop saw

my precious glass I reluctantly gave one ofhow longingly I looked at all the mineralsthey had they knew I would like the magazineand persuaded me to buy it. I am glad I didfor it certainly hits the spot when I readthe articles on minerals. My main interest inyour magazine is in the articles which givethe location of the different mineral speci-mens. I also enjoy the features that deal withearly history of the Southwest and the biogra-phies of the men who did big things in thissection of the country.

Here is wishing you continued success.W. FINCH WHITE, Jr.

Los Angeles, CaliforniaDear Mr. Henderson:

The Desert Magazine is usually so accuratethat a few lapses are the more noticeable.

In the October issue, "True or False" quiz,question 16: "The Bisnaga or barrel cactusoften grows to a height of 12 feet or more,"is answered on page 32, "False, Bisnaga sel-dom grows higher than six feet."

The Bisnaga indigenous to Santa Catalinaisland and other islands in the Gulf of Cali-fornia frequently attains a height of fourmeters (13 feet), a fact that your quiz edi-tor could not be blamed for missing if he isnot familiar with the Sonoran deserts in theirentirety.

However, the fact is that this particular Bis-naga known as Ferocactus diguettii, does fre-quently exceed 12 feet in height.

Ferocactus pringlei from Coahuila and Zac-atecas, Ferocactus rostii of the lower Imperialvalley (near San Felipe, B. C.) and Ferocactusacanthodes of the Colorado and Mojave des-erts, all known as Bisnaga frequently attain aheight of three meters, and Ferocactus covilei,a Bisnaga common in Arizona and Sonoraattains a height of over eight feet in thevicinity of Empalme, Sonora.

All of which is in the interest of "a betterunderstanding of terophytic plants," the aimand object of the Cactus and Succulent Societyof America.

W. TAYLOR MARSHALL, President.

Thanks, Mr. Marshall, for this infor-mation. We are always glad to be cor-rected by a man who knows his subjectas well as you know cactus. — R. H.

29 Palms, CaliforniaTo the Broken Glass Editor:

The September number of the Desert Mag-azine would like to take the joy out of ourdesert lives with the breaking of our coloredglass illusions.

Why deprive us of the thrill of exploita-tion of our desert as a creator of purple glass?We haven't a Carlsbad caverns under the earthto explore. Nor the Grand Canyon of Arizonato fly over. We cannot point a finger of prideat the armed Saguaros. But we can bask inthe purple glow of our colored glass collec-tion.

When I came to the desert in 1936 seekinghealth I first landed in Palm Springs. Enter-ing a curio store or Indian trading post Iasked the courteous manager if the climatewas beneficial to asthmatics. He answered bypointing to a purple glass globe on an openporch. He said: "That was made purple bythe ultra-violet rays of the sun—and whywouldn't that cure all ills?"

To make a short story out of this, I amnicely located in the desert at 29 Palms. InAugust my relatives from the frozen zone ofSan Francisco visited me. At the proper timeI took them to my pile of glass under a squawtea bush in my yard. After telling them about

them a little pitcher that had been in the sunfive months. Of course they were pleased.

That day I received my September DesertMagazine, and passed it unopened to my des-ert-hungry relatives. Then all at once I heardthem laughing. "Read this," they said, "aboutcolored glass."

My face was red and my voice was full offire when I told them what I thought aboutan editor who would be so brutally honest asto destroy all my pet illusions about purpleglass. And am I peeved?

MRS. H. A. WELLS.

HardRock Shortyof . . .DeathValleyBy LON GARRISON

ii

/ She

EAH—I know," sourlyremarked H a r d R o c k

Shorty. "I read a bookoncet an' it said that the puckerin'power o' these desert alum watersprings is generally vastly exagger-ated. Durn idiots—why I've sawthings the book writers'd absolute-ly claim was lies—but I saw 'em,an' I don't need no better proof 'nthat."

Hard Rock moved his chair far-ther back into the shade and wenton with his discourse.

"I seen a guy oncet that hadsome o' this water dropped on hiscigar he d just lighted an' it pulledthe thing right down to where itburned his whiskers afore he c'ddrop it. I seen a clerk oncet thatwas wntin' an' he got some spilledon his pencil an' it not only shrunkup the pencil, it pulled the last fourwords right off the paper.

"But the best illerstration I everhad o' this shrinkin' power wasright over here to the bank. I wentin an' borrowed a hundred dollarsfor six months. Afore I c'd get outthe door, the president in puttin'the note down on his desk'd spilleda little bottle o' alum water he hadthere an' it run over the paper.When we got it mopped up, wefound out the durn note was threeweeks over due. Not only that, it'dreduced the interest rate so far thatwhen we figgered it all up thebanker owed me nineteen dollarsan' forty-three cents."

D E S E R T

OCT. 25— NOV. 1 New Mexico Edu-cation association meeting in Al-buquerque.

28 Annual Jamboree of Arizona SmallMine operators association at Tuc-son. C. M. d'Autremont, generalchairman. Parade of mining pro-gress, exhibit hall of ores and pro-cesses.

31 Nevada's 75th birthday celebratedat Carson City. Sponsored by Ad-mission Day committee and direc-ted by Business and ProfessionalWoman's club.

NOV. 1 All Soul's Day, Dawn cere-mony, Taos Pueblo, New Mexico.

1-4 National Sciot convention, Phoenix,Arizona. C. P. Niles, chairman.

1-15 Arizona quail season; bag limit,10 per day or in possession.

1-25 Deer and turkey seasons in NewMexico.

2 Arizona Mineralogical society meetsat Arizona Museum, Van Buren at10th, Phoenix.

4 University of Arizona's homecom-ing fotball game, Tucson.

4 Arizona Pioneers' Historical socie-ty annual meeting, Tucson.

8 Prehistoric Indian jewelry subjectof illustrated lecture by Clara LeeTanner of the University of Ari-zona, at Arizona Museum, Phoenix.

10-12 Annual Papago Indian fair androdeo at Sells, Arizona. RichardHendricks, chairman.

12 Fiesta of San Diego, Tesuque andJemez Pueblos, New Mexico. (Har-vest Corn dance, Jemez; Buffalodance, Tesuque.)

15 Dr. Frank C. Lockwood lecturesat Arizona Museum on SylvesterMowry, pioneer Arizona miner.

15 Arizona open season on mourningdoves closes.

15-18 California Federation of Womens'clubs, southern district, to holdannual convention in El Centro,California. Mrs. R. W. Ware,convention chairman.

15-DEC. 29 Hunting season on ducks,geese, Wilson's snipe or jack snipe,and coots in Arizona and NewMexico.

16 Second October meeting of Min-eralogical society at Arizona Mus-eum, Phoenix.

16 Close of 30-day turkey, bear anddeer seasons in Arizona.

16-18 48th Annual convention, Ari-zona Education association, Phoe-nix. J. J. Clark, Phoenix, president.Open to Indian service teachers,Boy Scout leaders and P-T. A.members for first time.

19 Rev. Victor R. Stoner lectures onCoronado's Journey at ArizonaMuseum, Phoenix.

24-26 State Hobby Fair, auspicesPhoenix Junior chamber of com-merce. Dr. A. G. Horton, ASTC atTempe, chairman.

25-26 and DEC. 2-3 Annual Horse racemeet at Las Vegas, Nevada. TommyThebo, chairman.

m

Volume 3 NOVEMBER 1939 Number 1

COVER "NEWSPAPER ROCK" in Petrified Forest nationalmonument. Photograph by Dr. Warren F. Fox,El Centro, California.

LETTERS Comment from our readers Inside coverFICTION Hard Rock Shorty of Death Valley

By LON GARRISON Inside coverCALENDAR Coming events in the desert country 1PHOTOGRAPHY Prize winning pictures in September 2EDITORIAL There Are Two Deserts 3HISTORY Outpost on the Colorado

By ARTHUR WOODWARD 4RECREATION To the Peak of White Mountain

By ELIZABETH LEWIS 9PERSONALITY Samaritan of Cave Springs

By WALTER FORD 12PUZZLE Dese r t Q u i z — a test of y o u r d e s e r t k n o w l e d g e . . 1 5INDIAN LORE W h e n t he H o p i D e s e r t e d The i r A n c i e n t G o d s

By M R S . W H I T E M O U N T A I N SMITH . . . 16POETRY "In a Garden," and other poems 20WILD LIFE G n o m e s of t h e D e s e r t N igh t

By G R A C E P. N I C K E R S O N 19CAMERA ART ' Fee l ' of t h e Dese r t

P h o t o g r a p h b y W M . M. P E N N I N G T O N . . . 21ADVENTURE Trail of a Renegade Pahute

By GEORGE E. PERKINS 22GEMS Mine That Has Everything—Except Gem Stones

By JOHN W. HILTON 26VAGABOND I Have not Tired of the Wilderness

By EVERETT RUESS 29INDUSTRY H a r v e s t C a m p in t h e N a v a j o Fo re s t

By R I C H A R D V A N VALKENBURGH . . . 30LANDMARK Rhyolite—By MYRTLE P. MILES 34CONTEST Announcement of monthly landmark contest . . 35WEATHER S e p t e m b e r t e m p e r a t u r e s o n the d e s e r t . . . . 3 5BOOKS C u r r e n t r e v i e w s o f S o u t h w e s t e r n l i t e r a t u r e . . . 3 6MINING Briefs from the desert region 37NEWS Here and There on the Desert 38HOBBY Gems and Minerals 40PLACE NAMES Origin of names in the Southwest 42CONTRIBUTORS Writers of the Desert 43PRIZES Announcement of monthly photographic contest . 43COMMENT J u s t B e t w e e n Y o u a n d M e — b y t h e E d i t o r . . . 4 4

The Desert Magazine is published monthly by the Desert Publishing Company, 597State Street, El Centro, California. Entered as second class matter October 11, 1937, atthe post office at El Centro, California, under the Act of March 3, 1879. Title registeredNo. 358865 in U. S. Patent Office, and contents copyrighted 1939 by the Desert PublishingCompany. Permission to reproduce contents must be secured from the editor in writing.

RANDALL HENDERSON, Editor.

TAZEWELL H. LAMB, Associate Editor.Manuscripts and photographs submitted must be accompanied by full return post-

age. The Desert Magazine assumes no responsibility for damage or loss of manuscriptsor photographs although due care will be exercised for their safety. Subscribers shouldsend notice of change of address to the circulation department by the fifth of the monthpreceding issue.

SUBSCRIPTION RATES: 1 year $2.50 — 2 years $4.00 — 3 years $5.00GIFT SUBSCRIPTIONS: 1 subscription $2.50 — two $4.00 — three $5.00

Canadian subscriptions 25c extra, foreign 50c extraAddress subscription letters to Desert Magazine, El Centro, California

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 1

eace.By GENE O. PARKSLas Vegas, Nevada

These adobe houses were reconstructed near Over-ton, Nevada, in accordance with the archaeologists'concept of the ancient Indian dwellings which once

were located here. This is not far from the "Lost City"where excavation work in the old Indian ruins wascarried on for several years until the rising waters ofLake Mead covered the site.

The photograph awarded first place in the DesertMagazine's September contest was taken with a21/4x2!/4 Horelle-Reflex camera, 1/16 exposure at f 16on super pan press film with light red filter. Exposurewas late in the afternoon on an August day.

in MutHBy MRS. C. L. BRIGGS

Arlington, California

Awarded second place in themonthly photographic contest of theDesert Magazine in September. Thisunusual photograph was taken in asmall dry lake north of Benton, Cali-fornia, two days after a thunder-shower had drenched that desertarea. The contrast is created by theuneven drying of the adobe in thelake bottom, the dark patches beingstill wet.

Picture taken July 27 at 7:00 a. m.with a Kodak Junior Six 16, fll at1/25 second.

The DESERT MAGAZINE

.,,.

ikete -fyte Two Ise5ett6 . .{Reprinted by request from the first issue of

the Desert Magazine, November, 1937.)

NE IS A GRIM desolate wasteland. It is the home ofvenomous reptiles and stinging insects, of viciousthorn-covered plants and trees, and of unbearable heat.

This is the desert seen by the stranger speeding along thehighway, impatient to be out of "this damnable country."It is the desert visualized by those children of luxury to whomany environment is unbearable which does not provide all ofthe comforts and services of a pampering civilization. It is aconcept fostered by fiction writers who dramatize the tragediesof the desert for the profit it will bring them.

But the stranger and the uninitiated see only the mask.The other Desert—the real Desert—is not for the eyes ofthe superficial observer, or the fearful soul or the cynic. It isa land, the character of which is hidden except to those whocome with friendliness and understanding. To these the Desertoffers rare gifts: health-giving sunshine—a sky that is studdedwith diamonds—a breeze that bears no poison—a landscapeof pastel colors such as no artist can duplicate—thorn-coveredplants which during countless ages have clung tenaciously tolife through heat and drought and wind and the depredationsof thirsty animals, and yet each season send forth blossoms ofexquisite coloring as a symbol of courage that has triumphedover terrifying obstacles.

To those who come to the Desert with friendliness, it givesfriendship; to those who come with courage, it gives newstrength of character. Those seeking relaxation find releasefrom the world of man-made troubles. For those seekingbeauty, the Desert offers nature's rarest artistry. This is theDesert that men and women learn to love.

Nearly every creed and industry and locality has its journal—except the Desert. Here, within the boundaries of Arizona,California, Nevada, New Mexico and Utah resides a greatfamily of human beings—the highest type of American citi-zenship—with a common heritage of environment and interest

one is fascinating, mysterious

• • *

. . . one is grim, desolate

and opportunity, yet residing for the most part in regionsthat are remote from the so-called cultural centers.

This is the last great frontier of the United States. It willbe the purpose of the Desert Magazine to entertain and servethe people whom desire or circumstance has brought to thisDesert frontier. But also, the magazine will carry as accuratelyas possible in word and picture, the spirit of the real Desertto those countless men and women who have been intriguedby the charm of the desert, but whose homes are elsewhere.

* * *

This is to be a friendly, personal magazine, written forthe people of the Desert and their friends—and insofar aspossible, by Desert people. Preference will be given to thosewriters and artists—yes, and poets—whose inspiration comesfrom close association with the scented greasewood, the shift-ing sand dunes, the coloring of Desert landscapes, from pre-cipitous canyons and gorgeous sunsets.

The Desert has its own traditions—art—literature—in-dustry and commerce. It will be the purpose of the DesertMagazine to crystallize and preserve these phases of Desertlife as a culture distinctive of arid but virile America. Wewould give character and personality to the pursuits of Desertpeoples—create a keener consciousness of the heritage whichis theirs—bring them a little closer together in a bond ofpride in their Desert homes, and perhaps break down in somemeasure the prejudice against the Desert which is born ofmisunderstanding and fear.

It is an idealistic goal, to be sure, but without vision theDesert would still be a forbidding wasteland—uninhabitedand shunned. The staff of the Desert Magazine has under-taken its task with the same unbounded confidence whichhas brought a million people to a land which once was re-garded as unfit for human habitation.

We want to give to the folks who live on the Desert —and to those who are interested in the Desert—somethingthat will make their lives a little happier and a little finer —something worthwhile. In the accomplishment of this purposewe ask for the cooperation and help of all friends of theDesert everywhere. THE STAFF.

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' • «.V • v

Col. Hoffman and his officers met with the Mojave headmen in a council of peace.

on the (zolotadoBy ARTHUR WOODWARD

/ i N 1857 when Congress voted( Y $300,000 for building three trans-

— ' continental roads to the Pacificcoast California newspaper editors wrotebitter words in denunciation of the law-makers at Washington.

"Just a filthy sop," said one writer. Itwould take ten times that much to buildone good road. What California reallyneeded was a railroad—and this miserlyappropriation for wagon roads wouldmerely serve as an excuse for delayingthe railroad project.

But Congress had more serious worriesat that moment than the editorial opin-ions of California newspaper men. A bit-ter feud had developed between northernand southern states over the question ofslavery—and there was even talk of civilwar. Under the circumstances the sparse-ly populated West probably was fortunatein getting the $300,000.

To Lieutenant Edward FitzgeraldBeale was assigned the task of buildingthe road across the desert plateau fromAlbuquerque to Los Angeles. He wasallotted $50,000 for the job. It wasn't

When the Mojave Indianswent on the warpath in 1858and killed several members ofan emigrant train near the pres-ent site of Needles, California,the war department immediate-ly sent troops to disciplinethe marauding redskins and es-tablish Fort Mojave on thebanks of the Colorado river.From ancient archives of thearmy, and from other sources,Arthur Woodward has obtainedthe material for a graphic storyof the soldiers and emigrantsand Indians who occupied thestage in that drama of thesouthwestern frontier.

much money for the construction of 1500miles of highway across an arid desertrimmed with towering mountain ranges.But Lieut. Beale had enthusiasm bornof implicit faith in the success of theproject.

His survey followed approximately thepresent route of U. S. Highway 66,swinging south past Inscription rock and

the Zuni villages in New Mexico andthen crossing the desert plateau of north-ern Arizona along a line which offeredthe maximum supply of water, grass andwood.

At the Colorado river the road passedthrough the heart of the Mojave countrywhere the Indians claimed dominionover the fertile bottom lands. The Mo-javes were none too friendly and in or-der to insure protection for emigranttrains which would be coming this waythe lieutenant recommended that a mili-tary post be established at this point.

But Washington was slow to act—andthe lieutenant's recommendation wasstill resting in an official pigeonhole atthe national capital when the first emi-grant caravan came over this route in thespring of 1858.

Starting from Van Buren county, Iowa,under the leadership of Leonard J. Rose,the party was attracted to the Beale routeby reports of abundant grass and water,and shorter mileage to the PromisedLand of El Dorado.

At Albuquerque the Iowans werejoined by another group of California-bound emigrants, making a total of 123

The DESERT MAGAZINE

men, 33 women and 47 children in rhetrain.

Mute reminders of this party may beseen today at Inscription rock where thenames of "John Udell, age 63, FirstEmigrant, July 8, 1858" and "Isaac Hol-land First Emigrant train from Mo., July8, 1858" appear carved in the sandstonebetween the De Vargas inscription of1692 and that incised by Ramon GarciaJuldo in 1709. Little Kate Brown, daugh-ter of Alpha and Mary Brown, herfather being Rose's foreman on the trip,marveled at the ease with which theknife blades cut into the rock, and child-like wondered how some of the namescould have been carved so high uponthe sides of the monolith.

It was a heart-breaking journey. Waterand grass were not plentiful at this mid-summer period. The train rested for atime beside a cool spring at the foot ofSan Francisco peaks and then trekkedwestward toward the Colorado river. Itwas rough country. The water supply ranshort and both men and oxen were near-ly crazed with heat and thirst before theyreached the rim of the plateau where thesilver ribbon of the Colorado could beseen in the distance. Even then it re-quired three hideous days of toil and

PHOTOGRAPHSThe rare old prints accom-

panying this story are from thecollection of Francis P. Farqu-har of San Francisco. In lend-ing them to the Desert Maga-zine for reproduction Mr. Far-quhar wrote: "Part of themwere taken by d'Heureuse ofthe State Geological Surveypossibly as early as 1863, cer-tainly not later than 1867. Theothers were taken by ClarenceKing on his trip to Arizona in1866."

suffering before they came to the banksof the stream. At one point it was neces-sary to unspan the oxen and lower thewagons by hand over a precipitous wallof rock.

Finally the advance wagons reacheda little haven of cottonwood trees on the

Shoiving what the well dressed Mo-jave Indian was wearing during the1860J\ Some oj the articles oj cloth-ing worn by these savages may havebeen stolen from the Rose emigranttrain at the time oj the massacre.

banks Of the fiver, Part of the trainstill two miles back along the trail. Roseand others explored the banks seeking aplace to cross the wagons. They found apoint where the river could be fordedand the wagons were corraled on tht_-edge of the stream in a half circle withthe river on one side as a protective bar-rier.

Some of the Mojave had met the trainand demanded and received gifts in pay-ment for permission to pass throughtheir territory. Now as the wagons werebeing drawn into place it was noted thatlarge numbers of Indians were swimmingthe stream from the opposite shore, hold-ing their war bows above their heads toprevent the strings from becoming wet.The men discussed the incident, but didnot feel they were in serious danger ofattack. What chance would the redskinswith their primitive weapons have againstwhite men armed with guns?

The assault came with stunning sud-denness. It was just before noon August1, 1858, when from the thickets thatsurrounded the camp came a rain ofarrows.

The two little Brown girls playingwith their dolls screamed and ran for theprotection of their father's wagon. The

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9

Above—Capt. Atchison with his orderly and clerk at Fort Mojave soon after itivas established.

Below—Fort Mojave today. The government still keeps a watchman on duty.

startled Iowans scrambled to their feetand dazedly responded to the attack witha scattered burst of musketry. The Indianshad caught them off guard during theirsiesta hour. Alpha Brown who had beenoutside the wagon circle with a party ofmen cutting wood mounted his horse andraced toward the corral when the firingbegan. His men followed him. From themesquite jungle a deluge of warshaftsmet the startled farmers. Brown waspierced through and through. He drovehis horse through the barricade and fellto the dust inside the corral gasping,"Rose, where's my wife? I'm shot full ofarrows " and died.

The white men rallied quickly. Rosefilled a basket with percussion caps andpaper cartridges and placed it where allcould secure fresh ammunition. He wentto the wagon where Mrs. Brown and hertwo girls and small son crouched on thefloor and brought forth a number ofbutcher knives saying: "Our ammunitionis giving out, and we do not know but itmay come to a hand to hand fight."

An arrow ripped through the canvascover and pierced the side of KateBrown's sister. The child cried out,"Mother, I'm shot," and fainted. Herwound was not serious and she later re-covered. A Methodist minister in thetrain seized a musket and fought duringthe long afternoon. One redskin wearinga small dinner bell at his waist receiveda ball from the preacher's gun and wasimmediately converted into a good In-dian.

At sunset the Indians drew off, drivingbefore them the stock which had been cutloose and captured. Some of these oxenescaped from the Mojave and strayedback to camp. Half the party werewounded. Eight men from the wagonscamping back along the trail heard thefiring and attempted to break through theIndian besiegers to aid their companions.All of them were ambushed and slain.

The emigrants held a council. Theyvoted to take their few remaining headof stock and retrace their steps to Albu-querque. All hopes of crossing the riverwere abandoned.

That night, under cover of darknessthey broke camp and slipped away carry-ing their wounded. They had few pro-visions and few wagons. The men walkedwith their rifles cocked. Women andchildren wept silently. From the distancecame the triumphant yells of the Mojave.The party expected at any moment to beambushed.

Behind them, at the deserted campgrounds the Mojave celebrated by cre-mating the remains of the murderedtravelers. The abandoned wagons werebroken and burned. Boxes and barrelswere opened and the contents scattered,feather beds ripped to pieces.

The DESERT M A G A Z I N E

Eventually the ragged, starving rem-nants of the party arrived in Albuquer-que. News of their approach was broughtto the army officers at that town and sev-eral wagons loaded with supplies weresent to aid the famished people.

Two mass meetings were held by thesurvivors and citizens of Albuquerqueand at the second meeting which washeld at the Atlantic and Pacific RailroadHotel on the evening of December 9,among other resolutions was this:

"Resolved, that we are of the opinionthat there ought to be a strong militarypost placed without delay on the Colo-rado of the West in the heart of the Mo-jave nation, where Lieut. Beale's routecrosses said river."

Copies of this resolution were for-warded to various newspapers and promi-

nent military and civil officials east andwest.

The war department moved swiftly.Official red tape was speedily cut. Orderswere dispatched to General Clarke incommand of the military on the Pacificcoast to select a site for a two-companypost on the west bank of the Coloradoriver near Beale's crossing.

Immediately preparations were startedat the Presidio of San Francisco for dis-patching an armed force of 600 men intothe heart of the Mojave country to sub-due the tribesmen and build a fort.

February 11, 1859, the steamer UncleSam put to sea with four companies ofthe 6th Infantry on board. The vessel ar-rived at the mouth of the Colorado riverFebruary 27, being the first ship of over200 tons to navigate the gulf. The cur-rent was rapid and the steamer had to

anchor 25 miles from the mouth of theriver while the soldiers were transferredon the schooner Monterey to a point 25miles upstream where they were againshifted to the steamers Colorado andGeneral Jess up for their journey to FortYuma.

It was a tedious, dangerous trip. Thechannels of the Colorado were unchartedand constantly shifting. The winds blewsteadily from the northwest carryingclouds of sand across the water and atnight the air was dank with fog. Trueto tradition the troopers cursed the coun-try and the Indians. The Colorado drewonly 21/2 feet of water, traveled slowlyand never turned a paddle at night. Eachevening the soldiers camped on shore, thevessel being made fast by an anchor stuckin the river bank. The engine burnedwood which was obtained at intervals

Dr. Stark and Indians photographed at Fort Mojave in the 60s. These are probably Pahi/te Indians who were vis/ting at thearmy post at the time this photograph was taken.

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9

(torn piles along the shore. The Indianscut and stacked the wood and for theirlabors received $4 to $5 per month. Thesoldiers frequently had to disembark andwalk around the ^nd bars upon whichthe steamers grounded.

When they reached Fort Yuma thethermometer stood at 92 degrees and thesoldiers fresh from the cool climate ofthe San Francisco bay region sufferedgreatly from the heat. The men drilledankle deep in the fine silt of the bottom-lands and the wind stirred the dust intochoking clouds. This place was called"Camp Dirty" by the men who wereeager to get away from the vicinity andtangle with the Indians.

Finally marching orders were issued.All excess baggage, including tents, wasto be left behind. Each soldier carriedmost of his belongings in a knapsack.

The men of the 6th Infantry were notgreen recruits. Many of them had beenwith Zach Taylor in Mexico in 1846-47.Afterward they had faced the Sioux andCheyenne on the plains and in the sum-mer of 1858 had marched overland toSalt Lake City and thence to California.

However, in spite of all this the tripnorth along the river was no child's play.Reveille at 3:30 in the morning day afterday ceases to be fun even for veterandoughboys. The hot sun blistered themby day and at night they shivered withthe cold. There were nights when the icefroze three-fourths of an inch thick inthe water pails. Sand storms envelopedthem as they plodded along the barrenlands beside the river.

Guarded by Veteran Scouts

Two old mountain men, David Mc-Kenzie and the famous Joe Walker, werethe guides. Occasionally the trail left theriver and took to the mesa and the barerocky hills. Mules began to give out butthe men were too tough. Now and thenIndian rancherias were passed. Thesewere Chemehuevi villages and the peo-ple swarmed after the soldiers beggingfor old clothes. At one place on the westshore a correspondent reported: "Ourroute through the country has been im-peded as they suppose by their medicinemen who in many places have encircledthe trail which we have traveled withmagic rings among the sand and pebbleswith grotesque forms of men and animalsand figures impossible to describe."

These "grotesque figures" may wellhave been the giant intaglio pictographsof circles, men and animals scooped outof the pebbled benchlands still to beseen on the California bank 18.3 milesnorth of Blythe. The largest human figurein this group of three which I measuredwas 167 feet long with an armspread of160 feet. The 23rd photographic section

at March Field, photographed theseground glyphs for the Los Angeles Mu-seum in 1932.

On the afternoon of April 17 a partyof Mojave came into camp to see ColonelHoffman whom they called "Chief-of-the-tall-white-hat." He told them hewould hold an official council with theheadmen of the Mojave nation on April23 near Beale's Crossing.

On the 20th the troops pitched campon the east bank of the river in a groveof tall cottonwood trees. Here the grasswas thick and luxuriant, fine for the fam-ished mules. They were five miles northof the 35th Parallel and 198 miles northof Yuma. Two hundred yards away wasthe spot where the emigrant train hadbeen attacked. Here were the brokenwagons, the scattered debris of house-hold goods, books, newspapers and thelarge cottonwood tree under which AlphaBrown had perished. The morning ofthe 23rd dawned clear but windy. Agreen brush ramada had been erected tokeep off the rays of the sun and freshlycut cottonwood logs served as seats forofficers and head men. By 9:45 a. m. 500Indians were in and around the camp. At10 o'clock Colonel Hoffman and his staffapproached. There were six Mojave headmen to act as spokesmen for their people.These were Irateba, Carook, Tomas, Car-riou, Capitaran and one other. Cairookwas garbed in an old shirt with a bellaround his neck, beads, a knife and a panof scissors. All of the Indians wore paintand feathers and were unarmed save forknives tucked unobtrusively in their loinclothes.

The Indians were nervous. They hawk-ed and spat continuously and eyed thesoldiers uneasily. The whole assemblywas on edge and the soldiers were un-certain as to the temperament of theiradversaries. Slowly, almost imperceptiblythe blue coated troopers began to closein around the entire area with carbinesready.

Indians Are SuspiciousSome of the Indians on the outskirts

noticed this encircling movement andbegan to creep stealthily away but wererecalled to their places by orders fromthe chiefs when Colonel Hoffman ex-plained that there was no danger.

It was a strange council. The Americanflag was formally hoisted for the firsttime to the accompaniment of music offifes and drums and cheers of the soldiers.The Mojave had been warned that thiswas merely a custom of the white manand not intended to frighten the Indians.

None of the white men could speakMojave. However, old Pascual, a Yumaheadman, now friendly to the Americans,had come with the troops to act as oratorfor Hoffman. Pascual made a noble figure-

as he stood there under the green roof ofthe sun shade garbed in a long red flan-nel hunting shirt girdled around the waistwith a broad leather belt studded withbrass tacks. His hair hung to the waist.He wore beads in his ears and a large pinand mother of pearl bead in his nose. Hislegs were covered with an old pair ofpantaloons. Captain Benton of the sol-diers translated Colonel Hoffman's speechinto Spanish which was understood byJose Maria, a Diegueno Indian who inturn was able to translate the Spanishinto the Yuma tongue to Pascual. He inturn relayed the message in Mojave tothe headmen of that nation. Probablynever before in the history of the westwas a council conducted in so manylanguages.

Hoffman bluntly told the Indians hehad come to their country because hehad heard they had killed some whitemen. He came in peace, but if they de-sired war he would fight them just ascheerfully. He desired to build a post intheir country to protect the road. TheMojave were to keep the peace or bewiped out. They were not to molestwhite men traveling through Mojavecountry. Moreover, they must surrenderthe three head men who had been mostguilty in the attack upon the emigranttrain, in addition to hostages from themost important families.

Hostages Sent to YumaPascual did not like to translate these

terms but there was nothing he could dobut carry out Hoffman's orders. The Mo-jave were downcast and humiliated. Theyacceded to all of the demands. The sixchiefs voluntarily offered themselves ashostages. Cairook acknowledged that hehad led the attack upon Hoffman's partywhen it came to survey the region for thesite of the post in 1858. Nine hostageswere accepted and sent down stream onthe steamer in irons to Fort Yuma.

After the council the Indians remainedaround the camp to trade, and after sev-eral days' reconnaissance on both sides ofthe stream Colonel Hoffman finally se-lected a spot on the east bank of theriver as the site of the post.

A correspondent present at the counciland during the search for a suitable sitesaid:

"At this crossing banks on the eastside of the river are high, perpendicularand caving; whilst the west bank is lowwith lakes and ponds of water interven-ing between the river and the mountainside, over which the road to Californiacrosses, making it at the time of overflowone vast marsh impassable for the mailor emigrant. There is not anything tojustify a crossing at this place except it

Continued on page 34

The DESERT MAGAZINE

Max and Elizabeth Lewis—two city duellers who climb mountains \or recreation.

"To the Peak

Wltlte MountainBy ELIZABETH LEWIS

D ESERT mountains, rough and deso-late, crowned by a peak oncethought higher than Mt. Whitney.

No roads, no forests, no lakes, no fish, nolarge animal life, no resorts, unpostedtrails. "Nobody ever goes there!" But foryears, somehow the White mountains onthe east side of Owens valley, California,intrigued my husband and me. Fromthe Sierra we saw them, glowering acrossthe way. From the Owens valley floorwe saw them, wild and lonesome andhigh. In September last year we decidedit was time to conquer White mountainpeak (14,242 feet).

Nobody could tell us how far it wasto the top, nobody knew which was thebest route to follow. We started anyhow.

Elizabeth and Max Lewis of Los Angeles wantedto get away from the beaten trails and try theirmountaineering skill on a peak seldom visited byclimbers. They selected the 14,242-foot summit of theWhite mountains on the edge of the Mojave desertas their goal. If you've ever climbed mountainsyou'll know the thrill these two city dwellers ex-perienced when they finally reached the summitcairn at the top of the mountain after five days ofgruelling toil over slippery rocks through fog andwind and snow.

Our first attempt to climb the range wasmade from Laws, near Bishop. An oldprospector told us of a road up Silvercanyon which led over the ridge. Itwasn't much of a road, but with the aidof a pick and shovel, removing slidesand boulders from the path, we advanced11 miles up the grade. Some of the turnswere so steep it was necessary to unloadour equipment to lighten the car. Whenwe reached the 9,000-foot level a cloud-burst stopped us. We camped where wewere until the road dried out - - andthen discovered a little way ahead thatthe road was blocked by boulders wecould not move.

We learned later that only one auto-mobile had ever been driven to the top

of the ridge. That was a Stanley Steamerin 1909. We saw a rusted pitchfork andold horseshoes, souvenirs of the earlydays when mule teams freighted over thisroute.

It was evident we must find a differ-ent approach to our mountain. Backtrack-ing over the road to Laws it was neces-sary to do more road building to repairthe damage caused by the cloudburst theday before.

On the floor of Owens valley again,we revamped our plans. We would se-cure burros and make a direct assault onWhite mountain peak by way of Piutecanyon. We were told of a dim ancientIndian trail that leads from the floor of

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9

the desert at Piute arroyo to the top ofthe ridge.

A rancher supplied the burros, fourof them. And since the burros were to beimportant personalities on this expe-dition I will introduce them:

Jack, a homely grey fellow, with apair of cab-horse blinkers on his rustybridle.

Jinny, a pinkish-colored creature, witha habit of flopping down in the trail,pack and all, when she was tired.

Mama, a delicate dark grey burro, withhuge ears, sad eyes, and a cute baby-face.The best worker of the three.

Satan, a sassy black nursling about sixmonths, who was left loose to follow hismama, and spent his time trying to makemischief.

After a night disturbed by the babyburro's crashing in the underbrush a-round camp and trying to stampede theothers, we rose in early morning moon-light, packed the animals, and were onthe trail at 6:15. The little burro followedalong for a few hours, then wearily turnedtoward home. After that we conscien-tiously milked the mother burro nightand morning.

Up, and up, and up the Piute trail -a steep path of sliding scree. We hadbeen told we would reach Sagehensprings, the first water, before noon.Lured on by the delusion that it was just"over the next hill, " we climbed fromour 5,500-foot base camp to an elevationof 10,000 in 12 miles (by later compu-tation) before we reached the springs.And there, I assure you, we camped!

This climb was enlivened by Jinny'sconstant collapsing in the trail, and ourheaving her to her feet by main force.The first 20 times we were sorry for her.After that we were sorry for ourselves.My husband Max finally decided it wastime for stern measures. He gave Jinny awallop with a rope and she sprang to her

Midwinter picture of White moun-tain peak on the eastern edge of theMojave desert of California. Photo

by Frasher's.

feet as light as thistledown — and neverflopped again.

As we climbed out of Piute canyon acold wind struck us—and we never real-ly were warm again until we reached ourbase camp at the end of the hike. Ourtrail led over and around rocks—nothingbut rocks. My diary says, "It is easy tounderstand why the White mountains areshunned by the crowd, in favor of theSierra. There's nothing here. Just rocks,space and clear air—the primitive joy ofisolation on the mountain."

Next morning we had some difficultyfinding the trail out of Sagehen springs.Then came a long steep pull, with theanimals getting tangled up, the packscoming undone and other minor annoy-ances.

As we approached the ridge at 11,500feet the sky grew pitch black. As wecrossed the saddle white pellets of icysnow began pelting down. It was a for-bidding spot to be caught in a moun-

tain storm. But the Fates were kind tous. Unexpectedly we came to a green lit-tle meadow with a tiny mirror-like lakein the center. On one side was a stonehut. It had no roof but there was a fire-place and a huge pile of logs. In the faceof such a storm as was threatening itwas a haven indeed.

Hurriedly we unroped the packs, putup our tent and trenched around it,weighting the edges with stones. Wewere uncomfortably cold—but there wasno time to build a fire until we had pro-vided shelter against the storm.

Mama was bent on heading down thetrail to find her missing offspring, andthere was not a tree on the landscape towhich she might be tethered. Max final-ly solved the problem by lugging upsome huge boulders and wedging themtogether as a hitching post.

Our fireplace produced more smokethan heat, and we ate from our grub bagwith numb fingers. The snowfall had be-come a blizzard and as soon as we hadanchored our equipment with rocks weput on more sweaters and crawled intoour sleeping bags.

My journal contains this entry: "Weare nuts, but people who try to climb Mt.Everest, for instance, are nuts in a bigway."

For three days we had freezing weatherwith snow every afternoon and night, butwe were fortunate in finding shelterserected by the sheepherders, with woodand water. I do not know when theselittle roofless stone houses were built.None of them was occupied when wemade the trip, but it is evident the moun-tain slopes have been used at certain sea-sons in past years for grazing purposes.

The trail was slippery, and often steep,but we were taking it in easy stages. De-spite the hardships of such an adventure,there is a glorious sense of achievementthat is compensation for the disagreeablemoments. At times we were enveloped infog. Then the clouds would roll back andthe gorgeous panorama of the Sierra,capped with majestic Mt. Whitney,

The climbers camped wheneverpossible at the roofless huts erectedon the upper levels of White moun-

tain by sheepherders.

10 The DESERT MAGAZINE

would cause us to exclaim in wonder andadmiration. Looking toward the oppositehorizon we found beauty of a differentcharacter in the varicolored desert ofDeath Valley. Always our route was overrocks, sometimes covered with colorfullichens and occasionally embedded intundra-like plateaus of grass and dwarfflowers.

Our final camp was just a few hundredfeet below the summit. Clouds wereswirling about us and we caught only anoccasional glimpse of the jagged peakabove. It was a wearisome journey upthe shoulder of the mountain to that up-per camp, nearly 14,000 feet above thedesert plain. We crawled up thesteep slope from boulder to boulder, un-sure of our way, not daring to tarry, slip-ping and sliding with wet frozen feetover black rocks and white snow, drag-ging with numb fingers at the ropes ofunwilling animals. There were momentswhen we doubted that we would make it.

Late in the afternoon we reached alittle bench and decided to camp. Thenat sunset the clouds suddenly clearedaway and revealed on the desert side ofour mountain the most marvelous desertpanorama I have ever seen. The air wasclear and the reds and browns and yellowsthat extended away to the eastern horizonappeared newly washed and amazinglybright. We felt repaid for all our efforts.

We spent an uncomfortable night incamp. It was cold up there, and ourclothes and the bedding were damp. Maxsuffered a slight attack of sickness. Ihinted that perhaps we should not tryto go on — and my suggestion waspromptly vetoed. "We're going to thetop of this mountain," he announced witha finality that left no room for debate.

Three hours after sunup we were sign-ing the register at the top—and lookingdown on a magnificent world of moun-tains and desert. It is a glorious sensationto reach a hard-won summit. The toil ofthe trail is quickly forgotten in the exhila-ration that comes with the achievement.

Before night we were back at the prettylittle meadow with the miniature lake inits center. It was one of those balmy eve-nings when one can relax at the side ofa crackling campfire and feel it is goodto be alive.

One more day took us to the floor ofthe desert. We had walked over 50 milesand had each worn out a pair of stoutnew boots. We were burned by sun andsnow and wind—but we had climbed tothe summit of a comparatively unknownmountain, and we were glad we hadmade the trip.

F[SH-•••••:•/;.: LA K E

BISHOP

M0^m^S^::->- _/mN O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 n

Leading north from Barstow into the heart of the Mo-jave desert of California there's an old road that mightproperly be called the "trail of the water jars." Thereare few natural water holes along this route—and soAdrian Egbert, veteran keeper of a little supply stationat Cave springs, has provided security for the travelerswho pass that way by placing water-filled bottles atregular intervals along the trail. Here is the story of atrue son of the great American desert.

jSamatitan on

(Zaire

By WALTER FORD

" I I J ATER—Don>t Waste!"\A/ This simple message is painted on the sides ofW wooden boxes stationed at regular intervals along

the 65-mile trail that winds across the Mojave desert of Cali-fornia from Barstow to Cave springs near the southern edgeof Death Valley.

And if the traveler is thirsty, or merely curious, he will findinside each of those boxes a glass bottle containing a gallonof pure drinking water—put there to allay the thirst of travel-ers who have been caught short in this remote desert region.

No one will ever know how much human suffering hasbeen prevented by those water bottles, or how many liveshave been saved—but thanks to the big heart of one of Mo-jave's grizzled desert rats, they have been maintained yearafter year without thought of remuneration.

The good Samaritan who keeps them there is Adrian Egbert,"Mayor" of Cave springs, veteran of 40-odd seasons in thearid wastes of the Death Valley region.

The Cave springs route in actual mileage is the most directway into the south end of Death Valley. The old emigranttrail followed Cave springs wash this way. Over this sameroad traveled countless prospectors seeking their fortunes inthe ranges surrounding Death Valley and in the gold fields ofNevada.

Paved highways now draw motorists into Death Valley byother routes, but Adrian Egbert and many of the prospectorsstill follow the old trail. Also, it is popular with those hardymotorists who prefer to explore the little-traveled byways ofthe desert country.

There are two natural watering places between Barstowand Cave springs—Garlic and Paradise springs. The span be-tween Cave and Garlic springs is 29 miles—and that seemslike a hundred miles on a sizzling midsummer day when theradiator is boiling and the canteen is empty.

To supplement these natural water holes, Egbert maintainssix of his improvised water stations between Cave springs andBarstow. He formerly kept three additional water bottles on

Adrian Egbert {right) and his friend Death Valley Scottyat the doorway of Egbert's cabin at Cave springs.

the branch road between Garlic springs and Yermo, but thesewere discontinued a few years ago when he ceased to travelthat route.

"Have the bottles been used often?" I asked Adrian."Yes, I have had to refill them many times," he replied. "I

do not know how many travelers have used them because fewof the users ever write to tell me about it. They sometimesscribble 'thanks' or 'good work' on the label, but that is all."

The bottles were put inside of boxes for protection, and yetthat queer breed of humans that delights in shooting up roadsigns has more than once used the bottles as a target. Andthe one most frequently destroyed is the one farthest fromwater in either direction.

Along with the vandals who deliberately destroy the waterbottles, whom Egbert condemns in no uncertain terms, arethe travelers who use the water to fill their radiators. Whileat Cave springs I heard a tale of one such person who droveup and asked for more water for his car. Pasted on each bottleis the following notice: "Use what you need and when emptyreturn to Cave springs where it will be re-filled and replaced.It may save a life." The motorist in question had read buthad not heeded the notice.

"Where are the bottles?" asked Egbert."I left them there," was the reply."Well, sir, not a drop of water do you get until those

bottles are brought in!"Harsh treatment? Perhaps. But Adrian Egbert knows the

appalling suddenness with which agonizing thirst can over-

12 The DESERT MAGAZINE

come one under a summer sun. He knowsthat a difference of one hour when wateris needed can mean the difference be-tween life and death, and he does notintend to let the stupidity of one personjeopardize the lives of those in need.

"Adrian," I asked, "you have seenhundreds of city drivers pass throughhere, you have helped many of them outof trouble—what are some of the mis-takes they make in planning or makingtheir trips into the desert?"

"The greatest mistake a novice desertdriver makes is failing to acquaint him-self with the character of the country in-to which he is going and to properlyequip himself for the trip. If he ownstwo cars he will usually take the me-chanically poorer one, equip it with oldtires, and start out. A simple mechanicaldifficulty can assume tragic proportionson a little used desert road. My advice-is to take the best equipment you have.And take an over-supply of water. Youmay not need it but it will always bethere in case you do. And remember,hot-dog stands and gas stations are fewand far between on the desert.

"A frequent source of trouble to theinexperienced desert driver," he contin-ued, "is the breaking of the radiator hose

The "Stone Vace'' at Cave springs.

connection. He does not realize that dueto the constant vibration over rough roads

this is one of the most vulnerable partsof an automobile."

Not all of the travelers whom Egberthas helped out of difficulties have takenthe trouble to show their appreciation.He told me of one occasion when he wasawakened late at night by two youngfellows who had broken their radiatorhose five miles distant from Cave springs.They were tired and hungry. Adriancooked a good meal for them, then pro-vided a place for them to sleep. In themorning he found a radiator hose thatwould fit. "Now boys," he told them,"this did not cost very much but some-one else may have the same trouble, so Iwish you would send me another whenyou get home." He never heard fromthem again.

"Don't such experiences tend to makeyou sour on the human race?" I ventured.

"No! I'd do the same thing again to-morrow. I figure that I've done my part.That kind of fellows only hurt them-selves." Such is the simple creed by whichhe aids his fellow men.

Egbert first saw the desert in the sum-mer of 1894. Ill health forced him toquit college in the state of Washingtonso he bought a horse and saddle and rodedown the Pacific coast. Eventually he

Walter Ford who wrote the accompanying story about Adrian Egbert is pictured here at one of water stations along theroad to the Cave springs.

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 13

Panorama of Cave springs, remote water hole on the Mojave desert of California. The entrance to cave where the spring islocated, and from which it derived its name is in the center of the picture. The ruins at the right are the remains of the stone

huts of the prospectors who first located at these springs.

landed at Santa Paula where he disposedof his horse and journeyed to Los Ange-les by train.

Jobs were scarce in Los Angeles andalthough Egbert was an expert carpenter,he found it difficult to obtain work evenat the low wage of $2.50 a day. In thecity he met Frank McMasters, an unem-ployed train dispatcher, who agreed toaccompany him to the desert to prospect.Both of them had found conditions inthe city rather difficult and they reasonedthat things could be little worse on thedesert. Egbert had heard of a "lost" Am-argosa mine and learned that an old mannamed Garcia who had discovered themine was living in Los Angeles. Theylocated Garcia after much difficulty andpersuaded him to draw a map showingthe location of the mine.

Egbert and his companion bought ateam of horses, a wagon, and suppliesand started out. Ten days later they ar-rived at Cave springs. With no previousdesert experience they made the trip inone of Southern California's hottestsummers.

At Cave springs they discovered theyhad lost the map Garcia had given them.From a hill above Cave springs theycould see water flowing in a river whichEgbert correctly concluded was the Amar-gosa. A cloud-burst near Tecopa hadfilled the usually dry river bed frombank to bank. In traveling down theCave springs wash they had their firststreak of hard luck — the breaking oftheir wagon tongue. After making atemporary repair with wire they pro-ceeded cautiously down the wash to the

bank of the Amargosa river where theymade camp for the night.

Adrian laughs when he tells of theirfirst night in Death Valley. "We werecamped under a full moon but I noticedthat it was gradually growing darker.Suddenly I looked up. 'Frank!' I called,'take a look at the moon—see anythingfunny?'

" I sure do!'" 'Then F not crazy!'"By the light of a lantern we looked

at an almanac and discovered that a totaleclipse was on."

The next day Egbert and his compan-ion moved over to Saratoga springs withthe intention of setting up camp and re-pairing the broken wagon tongue butthere they ran into new difficulties. Theyhad barely settled at their new locationwhen Jim Dayton, a teamster, drove up.

"You boys can't stay here," he toldthem. "The water will give you feverand you will lose all desire to move. Bet-ter go on up to Ibex springs — there'sgood water up there. Just follow thosetwo wagon tracks."

Their stay at Ibex springs was justlong enough for Egbert to build a forgeand make a permanent repair on the wag-on tongue. They were soon on their wayto find the mine whose fabulous wealthpromised a life of ease for the rest oftheir days.

Following the original discovery of theAmargosa mine many attempts had beenmade to work it, but in every case theminers were driven off by hostile Indians.In 1865 a party of Americans disregard-ing the threats of the Indians tried tooperate it. Five of the seven men in the

party were killed by the Indians. The twosurvivors hid in a tunnel and made theirescape under cover of darkness. Laterthey returned with a posse and buried thedead. When Egbert and McMastersreached the mine in 1894 the graves werestill plainly visible.

After working the mine for a timeEgbert decided it wasn't worth the ef-fort. Their returns were too meager, sothey abandoned it and moved to morepromising fields.

A record of Egbert's wandering overthe desert region from the time he firstmade its acquaintance would fill manymore pages than could be allotted in anyone issue of the Desert Magazine. Theyears of 1917 and 1918 found him inthe government service at Phoenix, Ari-zona, under Captain Tom Rynning, nowdeputy U. S. marshal at San Diego, Cali-fornia. His subsequent travels broughthim to Cave springs many times but itwas not until 1925 that he took up hispermanent residence there.

When Egbert moved to the springs,Barstow was the last outpost for suppliesfor Death Valley travelers. Egbert sensedthe need of having them available at Cavesprings and put in a stock of groceries,gas, and oil. His customers have beenfew but paradoxically his returns havebeen great. Not in a monetary sense, butin the deep satisfaction he gets from ren-dering a service to those in need. Motor-ists who have made the long hard pullup Cave springs wash with a dwindlingsupply of gas will long remember therelief and assurance embodied in his briefsign, "Gas and Oil."

Not all of Egbert's efforts have been

14 The DESERT MAGAZINE

confined to helping motorists out oftrouble. Prospectors whose fortunes andfood supplies reached bottom simulta-neously have usually found a helpinghand at Cave springs. Mrs. Sweetman, arelative of Egbert's who also resides atthe springs, told a story of one such casewhich had an amusing and rather unex-pected ending.

"An old prospector would stopperiodically for supplies," she related,"and knowing that he was having atough time making a go of it, Adrianwould usually total up the bill and thencut it in half. On one occasion when hecame through, instead of ordering theusual staple supplies he included olives,canned fruits, and a variety of delicaciesnot ordinarily found on the desert miner'sfare. Adrian looked surprised but saidnothing. When he totaled up the bill hetold the old fellow what it was, and thenadded that he would charge just halfprice. 'Nothing doing!' the old fellowexclaimed, 'I pay my bills!' Reaching in-to his pocket he pulled out a roll ofcurrency as large as his fist. He had justsold one of his claims for $3000.00."

Egbert places the first occupancy ofCave springs around 1850 when twoprospectors discovered the spring and at-tempted unsuccessfully to set up placermining operations. Egbert summed uptheir failure with characteristic philoso-phy. "If you go out and find hickory nutson the ground," he stated, "you knowthere's a hickory tree close by. It's thesame way with placer mining — theremust be placer gravel."

In common with the true desert spirit,Adrian Egbert loves the wildlife of thedesert and is bitter in his denunciation ofthose who would destroy it. He has es-tablished his own game refuge in theCave springs area and his "No Hunting"signs prominently placed at the bound-aries indicate that his wishes will be en-forced. His efforts have not been invain. One of his chief sources of pride,and one which he delights in showingvisitors, is the flock of quail which dailyanswers his call to get the food he scat-ters near his cabin.

Adrian is always pleased when visitorsstop for a chat but he does not advisemaking the trip to Cave springs duringthe heat of the summer, when the tem-perature along the route may reach ashigh as 130 degrees. Hardened as he isto the desert sun, he wisely retreats to hiscaves during the heat of the day wherethe relatively cool temperature of 75 de-grees prevails. During the temperatemonths of the year the trip assures a two-fold treat—desert vistas that are just abit out of the ordinary and the oppor-tunity of meeting a real desert personality—Adrian Egbert, the Samaritan of Cavesprings.

DESERT QUIZ Here is another list of brain-twisters forthe Desert Quiz fans. They cover thewhole range of desert subjects—geogra-

phy, mineralogy, botany, history, and lore of the tribesmen. If you cananswer 10 of them correctly you are a well-informed student of thedesert. Those who can give 15 proper answers are eligible for mem-bership in that very exclusive fraternity known as "Desert Rats." Andif you exceed 15 you are qualified to put in your application for thehonorary degree of S. D. S. — Sand Dune Sage. Answers on page 42.

1—Ubehebe crater is located near—Flagstaff Valley of Fire.Death Valley Great Salt Lake

2—The Nolina plant often is mistaken tor—Catsclaw Squaw bush Juniper Yucca

3—"Slip" is the name of a material used by the Indians in making—Pottery Blankets Baskets Dolls

4—Dinosaur National monument is located in—Nevada Utah Arizona Colorado

5—Weaving is done by the men in the Pueblo tribe of—Zuni Acoma Taos Hopi

6—The Mohr scale is used in measuring the—Purity of gold Hardness of mineralsAge of a tree Velocity of a river

7—The most widely known character in the "Lincoln County War" of NewMexico was—Wyatt Earp Ike ClantonBilly the Kid Geronimo

8—The locale of Harold Bell Wright's "Winning of Barbara Worth" was—Imperial Valley Salt River ValleyMojave desert Sevier desert

9—San Xavier del Bac is a mission at—Nogales Santa Fe El Paso Tucson

10—The piki made by the Hopi Indians is a—Drink Food Medicine Antidote for snake bites.

11—According to legend, he who drinks of the water of the Hassayampa riverin Arizona will—Have eternal youth Never suffer from rheumatismFind a bag of gold at the end of the rainbowNever again tell the truth

12—Boulder dam was erected primarily to—Generate electricityProvide irrigation water for new lands -Control the flood waters of the Colorado riverProvide additional water supply for Los Angeles

12—Generally speaking, the rock formation of Painted Desert of Arizona is—Sandstone Limestone Lava Granite

14—Hohokam is the name given the ancient people who once occupied—Grand Canyon Escalante desertSouthern Nevada Salt River Valley

15—Prospectors seeking the "Lost Dutchman" mine in Arizona go to the—San Francisco mountains White mountainsHarqua Hala mountains Superstition mountains

16—Tombstone became a famous camp for the mining of—Copper Silver Gold Tungsten

17—The gem crystal sometimes sold as "smoky topaz" is in reality a cloudytype of—Calcite Quartz Feldspar Gypsum

18—The estimated span of life of the Saguaro cactus is approximately—50 years 200 years 500 years 1000 years

19—The Casa Grande ruins of Arizona are located nearest—Casa Grande Coolidge Tucson Florence

20—A national monument is established by—Presidential order Act of Congress.Secretary of Interior Petition of state legislature

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 15

Chief foe Sekakuku was born on the Second Mesa.Members of his family are the hereditary rulers of all theHopi and Joe is the oldest son. He was educated at Sher-man institute and at an eastern university. He was in theservice of the Fred Harvey organization at Grand Canyonas an entertainer for 15 years. Since then he has acquiredcurio stores at Flagstaff and on the Second Mesa. General-ly he is an exhibitor at the major fairs and entertains withHopi songs and dances.

JJ S~\ NLY once have my people lighted the fires of war,I T and then they were against our own tribesmen."*S Chief Joe Sekakuku, hereditary chief of all the

Hopi Indians was home on the Second Mesa where he hadtaken part in the Snake Dance of his clan. The dance wasover, visitors had scattered to the four corners of the earth andwe were talking about the future of his people. This year therain gods had forsaken his land and the fields lay barren andbrown in the morning light.

My people will be hungry this winter I fear, even thesweet corn has failed us for the first time since Singing Houseswas destroyed!"

"Singing Houses?" I was puzzled at that name being men-tioned in connection with the drought. It had been more than200 years since Awatobi (Singing Houses) was destroyedby the Hopis in their only warlike journey against their ownpeople.

"Yes, you see when the Singing Houses was destroyed byour people because of the wickedness there, a fine grower ofsweet corn was brought from the survivors to the SecondMesa. And since then our villages here have never beenwithout a surplus of the small sweet ears of corn. Last winter,however, so great was the need of flour and sugar and coffeethat all this corn was taken to the trader for exchange andnow the corn rooms are bare."

It seemed strange to hear Chief Joe discuss the ancient be-liefs and legends of the Hopi people. I have known him formany years as an unusually intelligent Hopi who is hardly

When the Hopi Indians ol ancient Awatobi turnedfrom their traditional gods and became haughtyand sinful, the tribesmen from the other mesastrapped them in their kivas and destroyed them.Here is the story of the only time in history whenthe Hopi went to war against their own people.

U/ften the 4iopl

•flnctentAs told to MRS. WHITE MOUNTAIN SMITH

by CHIEF JOE SEKAKUKU

less conversant with the language and thought of the whiteman than of his own people. At Grand Canyon where hewas long employed he associated constantly with importantpeople of the Anglo-American race. He danced with them,dined with them, and discussed the questions of the day withthem.

But every other year when the Snake dance was held inhis native village he turned back toward the Second Mesa andfollowed the trail across the Painted desert to pray his father'sprayers for rain with venomous snakes dangling from his lips.

"Why do you come back and take part in this pagan cere-mony?"

Why does a wounded dog creep home to die, or a tiredchild turn homeward when darkness falls? We Indians areonly visitors in your white world. We amuse you and youfeed and clothe us. But when the Rain Gods call or we feelthat the end of the trail is near, we are Indians, going back toour own people to die as our fathers died and be buried asthey were buried. The white veneer is very thin!"

"You spoke of the one time your people made war. Tell meabout it!"

"Your road leads close to the ruins of the Singing Houses,"he answered. "I'll ride with you and when we reach that placeI will tell you the story!"

We drove down the steep hill past the ancient burial groundto where the Corn Rock stands sentinel—like at the head ofthe trail. When this towering stone topples, according to Hopilegend, the destiny of the Hopi people topples with it. Wefollowed along the mesa to Keam's canyon and then six milesacross the desert to a hill almost buried with drift sand.

Chief Joe pointed out the walled up water hole under thehill where the ground is littered with bits of pottery shapedand painted by the Hopi women 300 years ago and carriedby them to this water hole where all the women assembled inthe morning hours to gossip and exchange news.

Joe looked back across the canyon to where the Hopi mesaswere etched against the sky, and I looked at Joe. Tall, for aHopi, muscular, without an ounce of surplus fat he still re-minded me of the college boy he was when I first met him.Now, as then, he wears his thick black hair bound with ascarlet kerchief, his shirt is green velvet trimmed with silverbuttons and around his neck is a magnificent wedding neck-

16 The DESERT M A G A Z I N E

lace studded with turquoise. The turquoise earrings danglingfrom his ears would have made a collector envious. For themoment he is all Indian.

"Here," he said, "in the year 1540 the Spaniards first sawa Hopi village. They sneaked in under the walls of the townin the hours of darkness led by Zuni guides. They lay soclose they could hear the women chattering as they visitedback and forth from their housetops. Next morning thesestrange soldiers mounted on strange and terrifying animalslined up and ordered the Hopis to bring out all their goldand jewels for a Spanish king.

"The Hopi had never seen horses and were frightened.But their men went out to die defending their homes. Someof them were run down and killed by the horses and otherswere cut in pieces with Spanish swords. The rest surrenderedand brought out their only treasures—ground corn and curedskins and hand woven shawls made from wild cotton. Thenthe soldiers went away and left the Hopi alone for a longtime. My people have no written history you know, and ourlegends are told by the older people to the young ones. Thatis how we know those things of the past, I guess it was about

50 years before more Spanish soldiers came. They didn'tremain long and then after another 50 years some more cameand stayed.

"They brought long coats' (priests) with them. They saidthe Hopi were wicked and godless Indians so they built agreat church in the middle of the village. See, here are thewalls of it yet!"

"Yes, Joe, and there is a kiva under the church. Those paint-ings are as brilliant as if they were put there last week insteadof 300 years ago. Why is the kiva there under the church?"

"My people say the priests did not know the kiva was there,and that the Hopi went into it and held their tribal ceremoniesjust the same as though the mission wasn't above it. It musthave been a good joke on those long coats.'

"Well, my people say the priests made the Hopi men goacross the desert to the San Francisco mountains and carryheavy pine trunks here to roof this mission. Sometimes itwould take 40 or 50 men to lift and carry the timbers. Everywoman and child had to bring stones and baskets of mud tohelp build the church. They wanted none of the priest'sstrange religion, but the children were brought into the mis-

This reconstructed pueblo by Dr. Carl Russell showsthe life of the Hopi Indians at the time they were firstvi'ited by the Spaniards, about 1540. In recent years the

Peabody institute has been excavating and studying theruins of Awatobi for scientific purposes. Photograph pub-lished through the courtesy of Milwaukee Public Museum.

NOVEMBER, 1939 17

sion from their play and made to learn strange words and sing-song them for hours at a time.

"The priests burned a witch powder in a shining ball andswung it around and around until all the Hopi were bewitchedwith it, and soon they were as arrogant and untrustworthy asthe priests themselves.

"They grew very rich and haughty because the prayers ofthose strange men made plenty of rain fall on this valley. TheAwatobi Hopi so far forgot themselves as to neglect dancingwith our snake brothers. Instead they sat inside the churchand hummed until the other Hopi villages called this placeSinging Houses, and all the other Hopi hated the SingingHouse people because of their wealth and their haughty ways.Why, men from our mesa dared not bring home game fromthe hunt because Awatobi Hopi waylaid them and stole theirmeat. Our women dared not go far from the Second Mesain search of material for baskets or to gather the green plantswe Hopi like to eat, because Awatobi men kidnapped themand took them to that wicked town to live. It is true thatthere was some good Hopi left because these loyal Indiansdistrusted and poisoned one of the evil ones and killed two orthree more in the uprising against the Spaniards in 1670.But on the whole the other Hopi people thought very littleof Awatobi dwellers.

"Awatobi Must be Destroyed"

"At last all the other villages held a great meeting and itwas decided to destroy Awatobi. All the warriors from thethree mesas gathered beside that walled water hole I showedyou and when the moon rose they crept close to the door ofthe walled town. Someone inside opened it for them and theywent in and were all over the village before they were dis-covered. Fires were still burning in the little mud ovens inthe plaza because the next day was to be a feast day, and thewomen had worked late cooking bread and roasts. In the kivaunder the church Awatobi men were gathered holding aspecial ceremony. In another kiva on the edge of the plazanearly 100 Hopi were chanting. Into this kiva the invadersthrew cedar bark torches and pepper pots from the houses andthen fastened shut the trap door so those men smothered andperished. Nearly all the men of Awatobi were killed.

"The women and children were distributed among the othervillages. My village, as I told you, was lucky enough to get awoman who knew all about growing the little sweet ears ofcorn. She taught others and we always have nice corn—thatis, when it rains! A skilled peach grower went into Oraibi andtheir peaches are very fine to this day. Walpi drew a Snakepriestess who taught them many things about the Snake dance.People say that Walpi has the most effective Snake dance. Ithink, of course, that the one in my village is best."

Chief Joe looked so complacent I couldn't resist teasing hima little. "Tell me, Joe, why you can dance with rattlesnakesin your mouth and let them crawl all over you, and yet whenyou sat beside me at Walpi and a rattler came toward us, youupset me and got on the highest rock you could find?"

"Why, Mrs. Smith, those were strange snakes. I had neverseen them before and they were not acquainted with me either.They didn't know I am their Snake brother!"

"O, I didn't understand. I naturally thought a rattlesnakewas a rattlesnake whatever mesa it happened to be on!"

Joe changed the subject."As I said, every man here in this village was killed. The

priests were killed and the women and children carried away.Nobody ever came here to live again, and there must havebeen a curse on this valley because it never has been greenwith corn or red with peppers since that year, no matter how

Above—Ruins of Awatobi as they appear today.

Below—Archaeologists excavating at Aivatobi to learnmore about these ancient people find many artifacts in

the graves.

hard the Hopi work to raise a crop here." He pointed to aheavy cloud gathering close to ancient Walpi.

"See! The rain is falling there on the fields of the goodHopi. They have never failed to dance with snakes and prayfor rain. These Singing Houses Hopi forgot their own godsand that is why their town is a ruin and their fields burnedand barren."

18 The DESERT MAGAZINE

nome5 ojtkeA/iakt

3y GRACE P. NICKERSON

/ y MONG the prettiest and mostf / charming of desert creatures are

the Dipodomys; beautiful, noc-turnal kangaroo-like little animals whichleap and bound about in the desert sands,balancing themselves with their long,long tails and holding their tiny forelegsso close to their bodies that they arescarcely noticeable.

Although only the long strong hindlegs and large feet are used when travel-ing any distance, the tiny front feet aremost useful. They are used as hands, withlightning like speed, in filling their largecheek pouches which open externally.Frank Stephens in his book "CaliforniaMammals" says, "The filling is done sorapidly that when hard grain like wheatis used, a continuous rattling sound ismade."

As I watch them gathering food placedon a smooth surface, the kernels disap-pear as if gathered by vacuum. In a

squatted position they will glide up toand seemingly over a grain, but as theypass on, the grain has disappeared. Whenfilling their cheek pouches, they seldomtake time to eat.

The capacity of the two pouches is alittle more than a tablespoonful, enoughfor a whole day's ration.

In emptying their pouches, the forefeet are again used; each foot making twoor three quick forward squeezing move-ments, and the pouches are empty.

They are comical looking little crea-tures, with bulging cheek pouches andqueer shaped heads as they go leapingaway to store the grain they have gath-ered. Their long tails streaming behindthem seem to wave a graceful farewellwith each leap.

Lately, I have heard some strangestories of queer, shadowy, little desertgnomes which may be seen just at sun-set if you go into the desert and sit very

Folks who go in for scientific names call themDipodomys. But to you and me they are just plainkangaroo rats. They are graceful little creatures thathide in their burrows by day and skip around over thesands on their powerful hind legs at night. They areharmless rodents—and do not deserve the ill-reputecommonly implied by the name "rat."

quietly. Inasmuch as sunset is the timewhen the Dipodomys start out on theirnightly carnivals and travel about in anupright position, they may truthfully bedescribed as gnome-like. Their satiny,smooth fur of buff and white appearsshadowy in a dim light and their move-ments are so quick that only the fastestshutter and film can photograph them;so I am inclined to believe that it is theDipodomys that the quiet observers have

Very little has been written about theDipodomys. Perhaps two unpopularwords, rat and rodent, applied to thesmall creatures have deterred interest inthem. True, they are rodents and com-monly called kangaroo rats. However,the word rodent simply means they be-long to an order of mammals havingtwo larger incisor teeth in each jaw, sep-arated from the molar teeth by an emptyspace; a most necessary arrangement totheir mode of life. The squirrel, marmot,muskrat and beaver all belong to theRodentia.

The word, rat, brings to mind the de-Continued on page 33

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 19

Photograph by Russ Clark, Phoenix

(Dedicated to The Reverend Taylor ojAll Saint's Church, Salome, Arizona.)

BY LOIS ELDER STEINER

Phoenix, Arizona

Today I stood in silence;Language mattered not . . . .

My heart reverberating deep withinAt a miracle a man of God had wrought.

Within a garden, heaven. Just beyondThe desert; grim—forbidding—grey.

Reverently I touched a rosebud;Breathed the perfume from an orange spray.

I think I saw God's shadowMove across the white church wall.

Kneeling there beside ranunculusI watched another shadow fall.

And looking up the Reverend smiledAnd led the way

To a bed of Darwin tulipsNodding gently—colorful and gay.

Oh, would that I had magicIn my hand!

A million words from which to chooseAt my command!

I'd write a theme so beautiful'Twould hurt the heart to read.

A theme devoid of avarice—all hatredAnd all greed.

A "preacher" people call him . . . .But when his sermon's done

He kneels among his flowersIn clean sand out in the sun.

In a garden Jesus knelt;Talked with God into the dawn.

In a desert sharing blossomsHis disciple follows on.

INDIAN BOWLBY A N N BUELL STARK

Seattle, WashingtonHow patiently have old, brown handsWith wet clay wrought to form this bowl;And painted it with glowing hues,—A chalice holding desert's soul.

• • •

DESERT MOONLIGHTBY DORA TUCKERLas Vegas, Nevada

A night bird's plaintive cry,As it seeks its desert home.Soft zephyrs passing byLike spirits that ever roam.

And darting to and fro,The black bat on the wing,A coyote's wailing callFrom the hill by the hidden spring.

There's a rustle of withered leaves.As a pack rat scurries along,And a great horned owl above,Booms out like a heathen gong.

Like sentinels brave and grand,Guarding my lonely camp,The proud saguaro standsWith the moon for a magic lamp.

The sky is a cobalt bowl,Encrusted with jewel stars,And my soul is lifted upFreed from its prison bars.

You, city born and bred,Where streets are a glare of light,Can never know the thrillOf a moonlit desert night.

MOUNTAIN RHAPSODYEVA CARPENTER IVERSEN

Encinitas, CaliforniaGod's stars are far above me.

His earth beneath my feet,And the wind blowing through the passes

Is clean, and pure, and sweet.

God's desert lies before me,His mountains tower all 'round.

In perfect peace He reigns.I tread His Holy Ground.

BONDAGEBY MRS. O. C. BARNES

Los Angeles, CaliforniaI'd heard and read of the desert waste.

And often I'd wondered whyThere could be room for so fearful a place

Beneath so gorgeous a sky.

But now that I know this barren landThis "desert of death," so to speak

1 regret the day that I cast my lotWith the milling throng on the street.

DESERT CREEDBY JUNE LE MERT PAXTON

The thunder-god was raging mad;And with black clouds the skies he

clad.Then, with a sweeping rush and

roarHe thoroughly cleaned the desert

floor.

MOUNT SAN JACINTOBY WILLARD S. WOOD

Pasadena, CaliforniaI have known seas that perished at my feet.Come to my bosom from your roaring street.So shall I teach you by some murmuring

stream,How frail a web the fabric of your dream.

• • •

TRANSFORMATIONBY THELMA IRELAND

McGill, NevadaThat mountain peak looks drab and bleak.But when the sun sets on it,She wears a purple velvet capeAnd dons a crimson bonnet.

• • •

DESERT'S HEARTBY CLINTON RINGGO HULL

Covina, CaliforniaMy home is far off in the desert,

On a lonely homestead claim,Where my nearest neighbor is miles away.

And the sun's like a naked flame.

Where the prairie dog and chipmunkAre the friends of my solitude,

And the coyote's haunting melodyMy musical interlude.

Or the shriek of the raging wind,As it howls and roars aloud,

To lift and hurl the drifting dustIn a blinding, choking cloud.

But God, how I love the desert!With its shimmering sage and sand.

For I know each throb of the mighty heartThat beats in that lonesome land.

20 The DESERT MAGAZINE

TOLERANCE

teeL on the

By JOHN STEWART MacCLARY

Photograph by WM. M. PENNINGTON

OPHISTICATED white people who condemn thatwhich they cannot understand often refer to theNavajo as pagan.

Consider the Navajo point of view: Palefaced stran-gers invaded his ancestral domain, bringing religiousdoctrines wholly foreign to his traditional teachings.During uncounted generations the Navajo had foundspiritual comfort in his ancient faith, worshiping thepowers of Nature. The white man offered new teach-ings under the banners of various denominations.

The Navajo could not understand, but he was tol-erant. He had learned from his desert environment thefolly of violent resistance. And so, this Pennington pic-ture of an aged Navajo personifies Tolerance. It is avirtue that has suffered in the world outside.

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 21

' • ,

• j jC .£#'"'

*

The Pahute would empty his gun and thenturn and run while he was reloading

eneaadedFor nearly three years the Indian outlaw Mouse terrorized isolated ranch-

ers and miners in southern Nevada, and then a posse was formed to end thecareer of this Pahute killer. That was 40 years ago. Much of the region wherethe Indian carried on his depredations is now covered by the waters of LakeMead—but the thrilling incidents of that period are still fresh in the memoryof old timers living there. George Perkins, who wrote the accompanying storylor the Desert Magazine, was one of the leaders of the posse which finallycaught up with the renegade—and dealt with him according to the rules ofthe frontier.

first acquaintance with the Pah-ute outlaw, Mouse, was duringthe winter of 1898 when I was

working for Daniel Bonelli who operateda ferry on the Colorado river near thejunction of the Virgin.

Bonelli also had an alfalfa ranch inthe river bottom and supplied hay to themining camps of White Hills, Arizonaand Eldorado canyon, Nevada, and totravelers who followed this old trailacross the desert.

He employed a crew of men to oper-ate the ferry and ranch, and among themwere several Indians, mostly Pahutes. TheIndians were good hands for both theferry and ranch as they were acclimated

By GEORGE E. PERKINS

to the 120-degree summer temperatures.Mouse was an industrious worker, but

he was feared and hated by the other In-dians. It was characteristic of the Pahutesto become sullen and brood for days overa fancied wrong. In this frame of mindthey sometimes became killers and hadbeen known to vent their wrath onwhites and friendly members of their owntribe.

On such occasions a posse would im-mediately take the trail and when themurderer was captured he would bedealt with according to the custom ofthe country, and buried on the spot.

Mouse was an Indian of this type. ThePahutes had given him his name because

they regarded him as sly and cunning.They avoided him as much as possible.

One evening several excited Indianscame to the ranch house and reportedthat Mouse had gone loco and was shoot-ing up their camp with an old 45-Coltsix-shooter. They were badly frightenedand admitted there had been some liquorin their camp that night.

Indians and liquor always meant trou-ble, and several of the white men at theranch volunteered to go immediately anddisarm the Pahute.

Mouse was sullen and quite evidentlyresented the intrusion of the white men.We were armed, however, and he re-luctantly gave up his gun. The other In-

22 T h e D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E

) rr \ \

dians were so scared they would not re-turn to their camp that night.

Next morning Bonelli dischargedMouse and we took him across the riverand put him ashore on the Arizona side.Mouse had little to say but in his heartwas all the bitterness of a vengeful In-dian killer, as was disclosed by sub-sequent events.

From Bonelli's he rode a cayuse ponyto the White Hills mining camp 35 milessouth. There he worked for a few monthsas chore boy and general handy man atthe company's store and was gettingalong very well until one evening hewent berserk again. He stole a 30-30rifle and cartridges from the store, tooka horse belonging to a freighter andheaded back toward Nevada. From thatday until his death 2V2 years later hewas a fugitive.

Details of some of the atrocities com-mitted during his outlaw career did notbecome known until many months afterthe events had taken place, but for thepurposes of this narrative they will begiven in their chronological order.

From White Hills camp his trail fol-lowed almost an airline through themountains toward Las Vegas ranch. Hereached the Colorado river opposite themouth of Las Vegas wash, about fivemiles upstream from the present site ofBoulder dam. Here his horse became

mired in the quicksand on the Nevadaside and he left it to die a slow death bystarvation.

Then he started up the river towardBonelli's, 25 miles away. Less than amile upstream he came to the camp ofthree prospectors, two young men namedStearns and Davis, and Major Greenowat,nearly 80 years of age. They had beenpanning the bars in the river for placergold.

Their camp was across on the Arizonaside of the river. Mouse spied them fromthe Nevada side and when he hailedthem they crossed in their boat andbrought him to their camp. They fed himand invited him to remain for the night.

During the evening the Pahute toldthem he knew the location of a rich goldledge 10 miles up the river, and wouldtake them there the next day. They wereelated at the prospect and as the countrywas rough it was decided Davis andStearns should go with the Indian whilethe major remained in camp.

* # *

Two days later at Bonelli's ferry oneof the ranch hands discovered that ahorse had disappeared during the night,one of a matched span of greys recentlypurchased from an Oregon trader. Asthe work stock occasionally wandered offfrom the ranch nothing was thought of

the incident until it was discovered thata bridle also was missing.

The Indians immediately sensed some-thing was wrong and began looking fortracks. The trail was plain. The thief hadled the animal to the banks of the Virginriver and then mounted him and riddeninto the river. A mile upstream the trackswere picked up again, coming out of thewater.

Joe F. Perkins, the ranch foreman, andone of the Indians immediately saddledtheir horses and with rifles in front ofthem took up the trail. It followed upthe Virgin 12 miles then took off up adry arroyo known as Bitter Spring wash.

Twenty miles up this wash, approach-ing Muddy peak, they got into roughcountry, and as the tracks could not befollowed over the rocks at night, they re-turned to the ranch. They reported thetrail was bearing toward Las Vegas val-ley.

Next morning with an Indian compan-ion who knew the country, I started forLas Vegas ranch, 50 miles away, to seeif the thief had been seen there. We fol-lowed down the river for 10 miles, thendetoured over a summit in Boulder can-yon range and returned to the streamagain at old Fort Callville. Darknessfound us at the mouth of Las Vegaswash, still 25 miles from the ranch.

We made camp in the river bottom,

NOVEMBER, 19 39 23

and as we thought it best not to light afire we put in a cold sleepless night. Assoon as it was light enough to get ourbearings we were on our way again. Wepassed the camp of a lone prospector withtwo burros and rode to the Stewart ranch.The cowmen there had seen neither themissing horse nor any strange rider. Butat the Ed. Kyle ranch two miles beyondthe owner told us that two days previousthe Indian Mouse had stopped and askedto borrow a knife to mend his shoes.

Mouse told the rancher his horse hadgiven out at Dry lake 25 miles away, andhe had shot the animal and walked in.The Pahute was nervous, Kyle said, andinstead of going to a nearby Indian camphe headed out across the desert in theopposite direction.

I was sure then that Mouse was theman who had stolen our horse. Next daywe tried to follow the Indian's trail butwere unable to pick up his tracks and attwo o'clock in the afternoon took thebacktrack toward Bonelli's.

About dark we reached the river bankopposite the camp of Stearns, Davis andMajor Greenowat and decided to remainovernight with them. I fired my six-shooter several times to attract their at-tention and after a half hour's delay themajor came over in his boat and pickedus up.

When I inquired about Stearns andDavis he told me they had departed fivedays before with an Indian namedMouse who had promised to lead them toa rich gold mine. He assumed they hadgone up the river to Bonelli's for ad-ditional supplies and had not worriedabout their absence.

I suspected treachery, but I did notmention my fears to the old major. Westayed overnight with him and continuedto Bonelli's the next day. When I toldmy story Bonelli and the others at theranch shared my feeling that all was notwell with Steams and Davis.

Two trappers, Richmond and Gallo-way, were camping at the ferry at thetime. They had started at Green River,Wyoming, and had run through the rap-

- x

Daniel Bonelli, photographed atthe time he was operating the ferry.He came to southern Nevada in1865 and established the ferry onthe Colorado river in 1872. He wasof Swiss descent and highly educatedspeaking English, Italian, Swiss andGerman fluently. George Perkinssays of him: "He was a real pioneerand one of the finest characters ithas been my lot to meet."

ids in the Grand Canyon in two smallboats decked over with canvas. Theywere on their way to Needles, California.

When they heard my story they agreedto remain over a few days and join asearching party to look for the two miss-

ing prospectors. In addition to the trap-pers and myself there were two whiteranch hands and an Indian tracker.

We went to the camp down the riverand after staying all night with MajorGreenowat, took up the trail of his twopartners and Mouse. The tracks led ushigh into Boulder canyon range. All daywe crossed canyons and climbed ledges—and toward evening our trail ended atthe foot of a cliff where lay the mutilatedbodies of Stearns and Davis.

Evidently they had been climbing therock face above, with Mouse in the lead,Davis next and Stearns following. TheIndian had shot them from above, firstDavis and then Stearns and the bodieshad fallen 20 or 30 feet down the side ofthe cliff. Mouse had taken Davis' six-shooter and Stearns' high top boots, buthad not bothered with $55 in currencythe latter had in his pocket.

It took two days to get the bodies backto camp and we arranged for Richmondand Galloway to take them with MajorGreenowat down the river to Needles.

After killing the prospectors Mousehad remained in hiding, most of thetime in the vicinity of Indian springs atthe north end of the Charleston range.He was seen twice by Charlie Townerv/ho lived at the springs, and once Town-er talked with him at long range, butMouse kept his distance. Occasionally hewould loot a prospector's camp or killa range steer or mustang to provide thejerky on which he lived.

In the spring of 1900, J. W. Thomaswho was running a saw mill in theSheep mountains, missed one of hishorses. Tracks showed the animal hadbeen caught and ridden away by thethief. With one of his mill hands Thomasfollowed the trail. They found placeswhere the fugitive had dismounted andconcealed himself behind rocks as if toambush the pursuers he knew would fol-low him. For unknown reasons he failedto carry out this plan. When the tracksfinally led out of the mountains into theopen desert Thomas once or twicethought he could see a horseman many

BBS—81

The cross shows the location of Mouse's tanks—so named because it was a favorite hideout for the renegade. The tanks arein the Valley of Fire—now one of the popular tourist attractions in this region.

24 The DESERT MAGAZINE

i

Old ranch house at Bonelli's jerry — now under 450 jeet of water in LakeMead. Building was erected in the late 70s from native stone and timbers sal-vaged from the flood waters of the Colorado river. Persons in this old photographleft to right, Moapa Tom, member of the posse that stayed on the trail till Mousewas brought to -justice; Wion, an Indian ranch hand; Joe F. Perkins, foremanof the Bonelli ranch; an unidentified Indian boy; Alice Bonell't, a daughter;Frank Rossi tor, prospector; Mrs. Bonelli and Daniel Bonelli.

miles ahead, going toward Charlestonmountains.

The possemen had left their camp withlittle food, however, and finally gave upthe chase and turned back. They weresure the horse-thief was Mouse. A monthlater the horse, with a short piece of ropetied to his neck, returned to his oldrange. Evidently he had been starvedand abused, and had broken away at firstopportunity.

Another year passed and the renegadePahute was still at large on the southernNevada desert. Rumors drifted into thecamps that he had been seen occasionally.Those who knew the desert countrywere confident that hunger would sooneror later bring him out of hiding. Rangeriders kept their rifles with them alwaysand were on the alert when they ap-proached mesquite thickets or blind can-yons where ambush was possible. Mostof the prospectors working in that regionacquired dogs to warn them of the ap-proach of a stranger in the night.

Indians in camp at the ranch settle-ments were nervous, and could not be in-duced to sleep alone at places where run-ning water or other conditions made itimpossible for them to hear every sound.They knew Mouse was desperate andwould hesitate at nothing. He was nowan outcast from his tribe, with a price onhis head. Mohave county, Arizona, andLincoln county, Nevada (this was be-fore Clark county was established) had

offered rewards for the Indian dead oralive.

July 4, 1901, settlers from all over theMoapa v a l l e y gathered at Overton,the most central location, for their annualfestival of sports. The Pahutes always at-tended these celebrations, arriving fromall over the region in old wagons, bug-gies and on horseback. They were invet-erate gamblers and the horse-racing al-ways attracted them.

Returning to one of the Indian villagesafter the celebration, an old Indianwoman discovered a head of cabbage hadbeen taken from her little garden patch.The tracks were plain and the Indiansrecognized them. Mouse was in the coun-try again.

Immediately a posse of white men andIndians was formed to take the trail. Iwas one of those who volunteered andthe incidents of the next few days re-main clear in my mind.

We followed the tracks south 20 milesthrough the Valley of Fire to some nat-ural tanks, now called Mouse's tanks. Theoutlaw had camped here, but he wasmany hours ahead of us.

We crossed rocky mesas where ouronly guide was an occasional misplacedpebble. The route led down to St.Thomas where the fugitive had robbed agreen cornfield, and then doubled backagain to the Valley of Fire.

The Indians were especially anxious tocatch up with Mouse. They feared him

and wanted him killed. The trail lednorth 30 miles to upper Moapa valleyand then up Meadow valley wash toCane springs.

We had been out eight days now andthe heat was terrific. The feet of some ofthe Indian trailers had become so blis-tered they had to drop out, but we knewwe were getting closer to the Indian out-law and the time had come when wemust put an end to his terrorism.

The trail doubled back towards Warmsprings in upper Moapa valley. Our In-dians knew they were close behind theirman and despite the fact that they werenearly worn out with 10 days of inces-sant pursuit under the worst possible con-ditions, it was hard to hold them back.They were afraid Mouse would get awayas he had done many times before.

When we caught sight of him he wascrossing a smooth clay flat four milesnorth of Warm springs. Instantly gunswere brought into play. The pursuingIndians fired the first shots, and Mousereturned the fire. He would empty hisgun and then turn and run while he wasreloading.

The battle ended when the renegadedropped in his tracks. When we caughtup with him he was dead, with three bul-let holes through his body. The Indianswanted to make sure of their job, andfired several shots into his body after wecame to him.

He still had the rifle stolen from theWhite Hills store and the six-shootertaken from the body of Davis. The bootshe had taken from Stearns had beenmade into moccasins. The heavy mus-tache he had formerly worn had beenplucked out, evidently in an effort todisguise himself.

The hunt for Mouse was over, and wewere now confronted with the problemof getting him back to one of theranches where he could be identified.The Pahutes, superstitious about suchthings, refused to touch the body. Aftermuch persuasion and the promise of agenerous share of the reward money theyfinally helped lash the body on a packanimal. We took him nine miles to aranch owned by two squaw men. Severalranchers gathered here and held an in-quest and made the affidavits necessaryto collect the reward. After paying theexpenses of the posse the money was di-vided equally among the Indian trailerswho had done such excellent work infollowing him.

The body was buried in a shallowgrave in an arroyo a short distance away—and that was the end of the trail forMouse.

NOVEMBER, 1939 25

Mine ikat 4i&J

emJohn Hilton went out into the Vallecito desert

of Southern California to locate a ledge of rosequartz. The quartz did not prove out — so Johnspent the day exploring the tunnel and dumps atan old tourmaline claim. From his story the stu-dent and collector will learn something about theodd pranks Nature sometimes plays on gemminers.

By JOHN W. HILTON

/ J / E stood on one of the foothills of the Pinon moun-y}/ tain range, Everett Campbell and I, and gazed across

the rain-washed expanse of Mason valley. Stormclouds were gathering overhead but there were occasionalpatches of blue sky through which the sun projected marchingpatterns of light and shadow on the desert floor below.

Far out on the Vallecito desert and over Borrego way rainwas falling in black curtains, blotting out the sky. "It is rain-ing dollars for cattlemen," Everett remarked. "If this keepsup the filaree will be knee deep in the valley."

We had come to this hill in the desert region of San Diegocounty, California, to verify a report that rose quartz was tobe found here. The quartz proved the common white varietyiron-stained to a reddish brown. But we were well repaid forour climb up the rocky slope. The September rains almostovernight had changed the brown landscape of late summerto a hundred shades of green. It was a gorgeous panorama.

Directly below us were the springs and the crystal stream

^tone5that supplies the Campbell ranch with water. On a bench a-bove the stream were the crumbling adobe walls of the oldMason ranch home.

From our lookout we could easily pick out the trail of theold Butterfield stage road where it came over the pass, turnedin to the springs for water, and then continued across thefloor of Mason valley toward Box canyon.

At the base of the hill near the remains of an old rockcorral we saw the grave of Mrs. Mason, courageous wife andmother who pioneered in the early days of this desert coun-try. No epic account of her heroism is engraved on a marbleslab or bronze plaque. A wooden fence that once surroundedthe grave has been broken down by range cattle and the un-marked mound is rapidly being leveled by erosion. Therewere slabs of rock near at hand, and we paused as we passedthe spot and covered the mound with flat boulders so thatits location would not be lost forever. That seemed theleast we could do.

Across the valley on the slope near the base of the Lagunarange could be seen the white dumps of an old tourmalineprospect. I had visited it many years before. Everett said themine had not been worked since 1914.

Since our rose quartz ledge had failed to materialize, whynot take the readers of the Desert Magazine on an excursioninto the tourmaline workings?

At least the mines were worth investigating, and so wefollowed the winding road across the floor of the valley tothe foot of the slope on which a dim trail leads up the hill200 yards to the main tunnel.

As we went up the grade we saw numerous pieces of black

MOTORLOG

To reach the old mine de-scribed in this story follow statehighway 78 to its junction withthe Vallecito road 12 miles eastof Julian, California. With thespeedometer at zero, the mile-ages from this point are:Junction .00.0First summit 5.6Top, Box canyon grade 8.8Turn right toward mine .... 9.8Take left turn at ..10.1Take right turn at 11.4End of road below mine ....11.8

White dots in the black circlein the accompanying pictureshow the mine dumps as seenfrom the main road throughMason valley.

26 The DESERT MAGAZINE

tourmaline and glassy fragments of milky and grey quartzscattered through the dwarf desert shrubbery.

The ledge proved extremely interesting, and this is an ex-cellent spot for the study of minerals. Here the beginner willnot only get a good introduction to pegmatite ledges, but hecan also collect representative specimens of the minerals theycontain.

The pegmatite ledges of San Diego county have producedsome of the finest semi-precious gem and mineral specimensrhe world has ever known. It is reasonable to believe that inless explored regions of Arizona, Utah and Nevada wherepegmatites exist other equally productive mines will be de-veloped in future years.

Typical specimens oj tourmaline as it occurs in quartzcrystals. The specimen on the lejt is green and lavender,the one on the right black. These crystals came jrom SanDiego county, but not the mine described in the accom-

panying text.

These Southern California gem ledges have certain charac-teristics in common, which briefly are as follows: Pegmatitelike other granites is composed of three principal minerals,quartz, feldspar and mica. One of the main differences is thesize of the individual crystal masses in each. Even in ordinarycoarse-grained granite the crystalline segments are less thana quarter of an inch in diameter.

Pegmatite, however, sometimes includes crystal masses of

OLD BUTTERFIELDSTAGE ROUTE

S. IMPERIAL HIGHWAY.

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 27

John Hilton sampling one of the boulders mined fromthe tunnel. The black crystals imbedded in the quartz

are tourmaline, but not of gem quality.

single minerals, such as feldspar or quartz, which are severalfeet across.

Inspecting an ordinary pegmatite ledge we find that it dipsinto the hill at a very steep angle, but not quite perpendicu-lar. A cross-section discloses the fact that the crystallizationbecomes smaller and more compact as it nears the foot wallor underside of the ledge. Here we see wavy parallel lines ofbright color running lengthwise with the vein. A close ex-amination shows these to be made of countless tiny crystalsof tourmaline, garnet, etc. Gem miners call this the "linerock" and consider it one of the necessary factors in a goodgem vein.

Near the center of the ledge the mica becomes more pro-nounced and the sections of quartz and feldspar are largerand more sharply angled. This is known as the pay streak andis where the rare mineral gems are most likely to be concen-trated in pegmatite deposits.

Here, hollow pockets are likely to occur in which gemquality tourmaline, kunzite, garnet or topaz are found. Suchpockets are filled loosely with soft mica talc or clay, and sur-rounded by pocket liners of quartz or feldspar crystals towhich colored gems often are attached. The finest gems, how-ever, are packed in the loose pocket filling and are not at-tached to any solid part of the vein. These crystals have thusbeen protected from pressure cracks due to earth movements.

Such pockets as I have just described appeared to be lack-ing in the ledge at Mason valley, and this no doubt explainsthe abandonment of the property. A tunnel over a hundredfeet in length had been driven into the side of the hill, andwe followed this to its end, but saw no evidence that theminers had encountered a crystallized section such as wouldindicate the presence of gems.

Evidently considerable money had been spent in prospect-ing this claim, but there was nothing to indicate it had beena paying investment.

There was no indication that pockets of quartz crystalshad been encountered. On the other hand, biotite mica, whichmost miners consider a poor indication of gems, partiallyreplaces the muscovite and lepidolite in the depths of thetunnel.

Such is the gamble of gem mining. Pockets containingglittering wealth have been found by inexperienced minersonly a few feet from the grass roots. At other times seasonedminers have followed promising leads hundreds of feet with-out reward.

Here we have a ledge in which the outcropping showseverything a gem miner could ask for—"line rock" on the

Continued on page 35

TOURMALINE MINE YIELDS MANY SAMPLES

Following is a partial list with description of theminerals found by John Hilton at the tourmalinemine described in the accompanying story:

1. Tourmaline: A complex silicate varying incomposition but always containing boron, alumi-num and water with the varying addition of othersubstances such as lithium, magnesium, sodium,iron and chromium; hardness 7 to 7.5; specificgravity 3.0 to 3.2; crystals, rhombohedral prismsshowing striations parallel with the prism faces;color black and brown in the common forms andalmost every color in the spectrum to colorlessin the gem forms.

2. Microcline: a potassium feldspar; hardness6; specific gravity about 2.5; color usually white,grey or cream, in rare instances pink or green.

3. Albite: soda feldspar, a silicate of aluminumand sodium; hardness and specific gravity thesame as microcline. Color usually snow white,sometimes grey.

4. Garnet: the yellow or brownish varietiesfound in this deposit are essonite. The tiny pur-plish specimens are probably almandite, but dueto their size are hard to identify. Both gems havea hardness of 7 to 7.5; specific gravity of the firstaround 3.5, the latter 4.2. All garnets belong tothe cubic system.

5. Muscovite: hardness 2 to 2.5; specific gravi-ty about 2.8; form monoclinic but crystals usuallyin six-sided plates; color white to pale green inthis deposit. Muscovite is a silicate of aluminumand potassium with water entering into the com-pound.

6. Biotite: complex silicate of aluminum, mag-nesium and potassium and iron; hardness 2.5 to3; specific gravity about 2.9; form same as musco-vite; color usually black with golden glints. Un-weathered flakes are tough and flexible.

7. Lepidolite: a silicate of aluminum, potassi-um and lithium combined with water and fluor-ine and sometimes the rare metals rubidium andcaesium; color usually lavender or grey; formusually compact masses of thousands of distinctplates or scales; hardness at times 4 and as lowas 2:5; specific gravity 2.8 to 3.3.

8. Epidote: silicate of aluminum, iron and cal-cium; hardness 6 to 7; specific gravity 3.2 to 3.5;form monoclinic, usually occurs in radial clusters;color usually a yellowish green.

28 The DESERT MAGAZINE

9 <JlaueOn November 11, 1934, the young vaga-

bond artist Everett Ruess left Escalante, Utah,on his last journey into the desert wildernessthat he loved so well. Searching parties laterfound his two burros grazing in a natural corralin Davis canyon—but the fate of Everett re-mains a mystery to this day. Following isEverett's last letter to his brother Waldo,written just a few days before he departedon his final journey.

!• ' ^ % >

r #

By EVERETT RUESS

Dear Waldo:

Escalante Rim, UtahNovember 1934

As to when I shall revisit civilization, it will not be soon,I think. I have not tired of the wilderness; rather I enjoy itsbeauty and the vagrant life I lead more keenly all the time. Iprefer the saddle to the street car, and the star-sprinkled skyto the roof, the obscure and difficult trail leading into theunknown to any paved highway, and the deep peace of thewild to the discontent bred by cities. Do you blame me thenfor staying here where I feel that I belong and am one withthe world about me? It is true that I miss intelligent com-panionship, but there are so few with whom I can share thethings that mean much to me that I have learned to containmyself. It is enough that I am surrounded with beauty andcarry it with me in things that are a constant delight, like mygorgeous Navajo saddle blankets and the silver bracelet onmy wrist, whose three turquoises gleam in the firelight.

A few days ago I rode into the red rocks and sandy des-ert, and it was like coming home again. I even met a coupleof wandering Navajos, and we stayed up most of the nighttalking, eating roast mutton with black coffee, and singingsongs. The songs of the Navajo express for me somethingthat no other songs do. And now that I know enough of it,it is a real delight to speak in another language.

I have not seen a human being nor any wild life but

Illustration by G. A. RANDALL

squirrels and birds for two or three days. Yesterday was aloss as far as travel was concerned, for I got into an impassein the head of a canyon system, and had to return to whereI started. Last night I camped under tall pines by a streamthat flowed under a towering orange cliff, like a wall againstthe sky, dwarfing the twisted pines on its summit and thetall straight ones that grow part way up the face of it. Itwas glorious at sunrise. Today I have ridden over miles ofrough country, forcing my way through tall sage and stub-born oak brush, and driving the burros down canyon slopesso steep that they could hardly keep from falling. At lastI found a trail, and have just left it to make dry camp onwhat seems like the rim of the world. My camp is on thevery point of the divide, with country falling away to theblue horizon on east and west. The last rays of the sun atevening, and the first at dawn reach me. Below are steepcliffs where the canyon has cut its way up to the rim ofthe divide. Northward is the sheer face of Mount Kaiparo-witz, pale vermillion capped with white, with a forestedsummit. West and south are desert and distant mountains.Tonight the pale crescent of new moon appeared for a littlewhile, low on the skyline, at sunset.

This has been a full, rich year. I have left no strange or de-lightful thing undone that I wanted to do.

Affectionately,

EVERETT.

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 29

When iirst frost comes to thehigh mountain region of northernArizona, Old Lady Sam gathersher family for the annual trek tothe pinon forests to harvest thenuts. To thousands of Navajofamilies the pinons are an im-portant item for both food andbarter. Here is an intimate pic-ture of an industry that isstrange to most Americans.

Jfatveit In

the A/avajo <Tote5t> .. w.'">,,, Illustrations by the Navajo artist

CHARLES KEETSIE SHIRLEY

ill "• 40-*^> %.*r\i /

V &*%?*#&

J vA«'*%&

By RICHARD VAN VALKENBURGH

O LD Lady Sam—her Navajo name-is Hunusbaa—had invited me tovisit her pinon harvest camp deep

in the mountain forest that covers theNavajo reservation north of Fort Defi-ance, Arizona.

Pinon nuts are one of the main sourcesof cash income for the Navajo, and I was

to accept the invitation.I invited Benny Tildon to accompany

me. Benny is the son of a Navajo medi-cine man—the well educated son of anintelligent father. His childhood wasspent in a hogan—his youth as an honorstudent in an American school.

We followed the dirt road that climbsto the higher levels and came to a cairnof stones. They had been piled there byOld Lady Sam. A pinon bough stuck inthe top of the pile pointed toward thesouth. Dim wagon tracks guided usthrough the dense forest. The pleasantscent of burning pinon wood permeatedthe autumn air. Pillars of slate-blue smokerose above the tree tops. Pinon jays flewscreeching from limb to limb.

Just when we concluded we were lost,the wagon tracks led us into a small ovalclearing. White tents were pitched onthe grama grass. An indistinct bundle ofcrimson moved under the overhang of alarge rock. When we drew near we sawthat it was the generous figure of OldLady Sam. She smiled her welcome as she-dipped water from a tiny spring thatseeped from under the rock.

The pinon nuts were plentiful thisseason. Himiisbaa's grandsons had goneout through the forest several weeks earli-er in the season to scout for good harvestareas. They searched for slopes where thetrees had received the proper amount ofmoisture between March and the first ofJune—that is the period when the nut-bearing cones are formed and the bounti-fulness of the fall harvest is determined.

The boys had returned with goodnews. There was an excellent crop be-tween Cross canyon and Nazlini canyon.They would have to hurry, for the packrats and pinon jays were making fastwork of the ripened nuts. The wagonswere loaded with camping equipment and

30 The DESERT MAGAZINE

the seeding zone was reached with thecoming of frost.

When we arrived camp was well es-tablished. Children clinging to the longskirts of their mothers were out helpinggather the newly fallen nuts. Even ancientgreat-uncle Taatc'ni Sani was working.It was Old Lady Sam's day to keep camp.

With the yellow glow of evening camethe harvesters. Each carried a small floursack filled with pinon nuts. Large canvasbags ranged along the inner walls of thestorage tent. Each Navajo poured a dark-brown stream of nuts into his individualstorage bag. There would be no mix-upwhen it came time to barter them to thetrader.

Old Lady Sam bossed the storing. Shecluttered like a fat old hen. She lookedsharply with her keen black eyes to seethat no blighted or broken nuts went in-to the bags. The blighted nuts wouldhave shrivelled kernels and the brokenor chipped ones from pack rat nestswould have the meats gnawed out.Should these get into a bag, the traderwould protest and cut down the price.

Each Navajo large and small left afew nuts in the bottom of his bag. Theywere poured into Old Lady Sam's bag topay her for keeping camp. She beamedas this was done and said, "Come! Thiswas a good day. Now let us eat:'

I watched the scene before me, wonder-ing what the Navajo would think if theycould visualize the ultimate destinationof their crop in New York City. Some

Cone of the pinon pine.

time previously I had interviewed a mem-ber of a business firm dealing in pinonnuts. We had discussed the commercialaspects of the business.

I learned that bumper crops comeevery four years. During these years thetraders buy enough pinon nuts by theend of October to fill many freight cars.These cars are dispatched mostly by Gal-lup firms to New York. A New York-concern has a monopoly in the east andcontrols 95 per cent of the pinon nutsshipped out of the Indian country.

The last bumper crop was in the fallof 1936. Navajo families, transported by

Typical pinon forest and seasonalhogan used by nomad Navajo

Indians.

"wildcat" truckers and traders, were scat-tered from Rio Arriba county in northcentral New Mexico to Pie Town on thehighway that links Springerville, Arizonawith Magdalena, New Mexico.

The harvest of 1938 was fairly good.The bulk of the crop came from the southrim of the Grand Canyon. Some camefrom the west bench of the Defiance pla-teau between Pine Springs and Nazlini,Arizona.

The Navajo barter their nuts to thetraders, selling five-sixths of their harvestand retaining one-sixth for their own use.

Prices vary according to the size ofthe crop. In 1936 the Navajo receivedfrom eight to 10 cents a pound in tradeand a cent less for cash. Early in 1938the price was around 15 cents a poundbut dropped to 10 cents when the streamof nuts started to pour in. In 1918 theybrought 18 cents a pound. The highestprice on record was that of 1922 when 22cents a pound was paid.

Expert pickers gather 50 pounds aday. When the price is eight cents theyreceive four dollars for their long day'swork. The average picker makes twodollars a day.

In 1936 nearly 160 freight cars ofpinon nuts from the Indian country wereshipped to New York. This 4,000,000pound harvest was worth approximately$500,000. For comparison, the Navajorug industry totals an average of $300,000a year.

When the nuts reach New York City

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 31

The entire Navajo family, except those left to care for the sheep, join in the an-nual trek to the pinon forest—the transportation may be either wagon or saddle

ponies.

they are hulled by mechanical shellers.The kernels are crushed to make an oilu;;ed in the manufacture of cosmetics. Inaddition, both shelled and unshelledwhole nuts are sold in cellophane bags.It is reported that shelled nuts sell ashigh as 70 cents a pound in New YorkCity. They are greatly favored by theforeign population on the east side ofthe city.

While there is no premium paid forexcellence of flavor, the late Bert Staples,former president of the Traders' Assn.,once stated that pinon nuts from certainregions of the Indian country are flavoredbetter than those from other regions.This he attributed to better tree nutri-tion in the favored localities and pointedout that in the Vermont sugar-maples,the trees growing near certain kinds ofgnnite rock produce a sap with a dis-tinctive flavor.

The nuts are cured by simmering in a10 per cent salt solution of warm water.After the water cools, the nuts are re-moved and stored for one year beforethey are placed on the market. They arealso roasted. The Navajo eat them rawand roasted, as well as grinding the kern-els into a paste on a stone metate.

Raw pinon nuts have a delicate flavorand make delectable food—but like othernuts should not be eaten in too greatquantities at one time. ArchaeologistCharles Cosgrove died from their effectswhile assisting in the excavation of theold Hopi town of Awatobi in 1936.

In the Navajo country pifion treesgrow at elevations between six and eightthousand feet. The predominant speciesas the Pinus edulis. Some pinon treesnear Mariana lake east of Gallup, NewMexico, are 450 years old. Under thebest growing conditions they will pro-duce nuts (seeds) when they are sevenyears old. Most trees do not produce un-

til they are near 15. After that they pro-duce every two years. Some pinon treesgrow to a height of 50 feet. The averageruns around 25 feet.

There is no such thing as a domesti-cated pinon tree. Some years ago a manbought several sections of New Mexicopinon forest. He irrigated, cultivated, andfertilized the ground under the trees. Hisattempt was unsuccessful.

It was grey dawn when we hurriedfrom breakfast to follow the harvestersfor our first try at gathering pinon nuts.Wraiths of mist swirled up through thetrees. Frost made our eyes water, and thetears froze to our cheeks.

The waxy cones had burst when thefirst frost came. The small dark-brownnuts near the size of an olive seed haddropped from their sheaths. The nutslay on the moist humus mixed with twigs,broken hulls, and pinon needles.

Old Lady Sam went down on all fourswith an "umph." She tucked the hem ofher long tan skirt under her knees andwent to work. Her smooth brown fingersmoved dexterously as she picked up thenuts and put them in her flour sack.

We followed suit. After an hour myfingers grew sore and stiff. My back be-gan to ache. Soon we had the circumfer-ence under the tree cleared of nuts. Whenwe arose to move to another tree Igrumbled, "Isn't there an easier way topick these confounded nuts, grand-mother?"

Old Lady Sam answered blandly, "Youwhite men always try to find an easierway to do everything. You probably wantto hunt for pack rats' nests of piled twigs.Then you'd get from five to 15 poundsall in one bunch. But you'd get fooled.First, you would get cactus needles inyour fingers. Those wise little fellows mixthem with their caches. Then you wouldtry and sell them to the trader. He'd

turn you down for the ends would bechipped and the hearts gone."

There are other methods of harvesting.All are hard. If the cones have not burstand the nuts are still up in the trees, theIndians lay tarpaulins or blankets on theground. Then they throw or push sticksup into the trees and knock the conesdown. The nuts are sometimes picked upright there. At other times they arebrushed up into piles with the litter thatlies under the trees. These piles are sackedand carried back to the camp for screen-ing.

One day Old Lady Sam waddled intocamp in the middle of the morning. Hersmooth round face was filled with cha-grin. Her empty sack dangled from herred and green woven belt. "What iswrong, grandmother?" I asked.

"Everything!" she answered as sheplumped down on a soft pile of beddingto catch her breath. "Those Bear peopleare here again. They go crazy for pinonnuts. Pretty soon they will be comingright into my camp and running overpeople. Just now I saw a big bear shak-ing the nuts out of a tree. I know it wasa bear for I saw his brown fur.

"That's the way with the Bear people.They always find out where the pinonsare plentiful. Besides stealing our foodand wrecking our camps they spoil thetrees. We Navajo don't take nuts fromtrees where bears have been. That wouldbe like harvesting from a tree that hadbeen struck by lightning or a whirlwind.I wish they would go into their dens indgo to sleep."

Early the next morning I went to seeif I could get a picture of Old LadySam's bear picking pinons. Benny de-clined with finality. He had no businesswith the Bear people.

I climbed a small knoll where I couldsurvey the forest. Soon I saw a tree shake.I slipped down the knoll and crept to-ward a tree. Camera ready, I lay poised.The shaking stopped. Something furrymoved behind the trunk. Out into theopen he came. There stood old bowleg-ged Posy Crow from Ganado. Aroundhim was wrapped an old beaver coat andon his head was a fur cap with the ear-flaps turned down. He was Old LadySam's bear.

When I returned to camp and told OldLady Sam that her bear was old PosyCrow she looked blank for a moment andthen sputtered, "That old fool alwaysdoes that. He finds some good trees nearsome camp. Then he wraps up in thatfur coat and scares other Navajo away byacting like a bear. He better be careful.A stranger will think he is witching andshoot him. Bad luck will catch up withhim anyway. Even if he is a little crazy,he knows better than to shake trees. The

Continued on page 43

32 The DESERT MAGAZINE

GNOMES OF THEDESERT NIGHT . . .

Continued jrotn page 19

structive creature, grey or black in color,with slender head, large ears and scalytail; a slinking, disease carrying crea-ture which follows civilization, zoologi-cally classified as Mus rattus.

The Dipodomys are entirely differentcreatures and all who admire them agreeit is a shame the name rat has been at-tached to them.

The World Book Encyclopedia classi-fies them as Jerboa Depodidae. "Califor-nia Mammals" by Frank Stephens classi-fies them as DI-POD' O-MYS (-o-mis)N. from Gr. dipous. dipodoo, two footed.

Family, HETEROMYIDAE. Sub-family,DIPODOMYINAE. Genus, PERODI-PUS (Fitzinger) Pouch—two footed.

Some authorities claim there are asmany as fifty varieties, varying in sizeand species.

The New International Encyclopedia,Jovanovie Leprohon, lists but four, Dip-odomy Deserti, Dipodomy MerriamiMerriami, Dipodomys Mohavensis andDipodomys Agilis Agilis (Gamble) .

The lengths of the bodies vary fromthree to seven inches, the tail being twicethe length of the body and tufted at theend.

The Dipodomys require no water andtheir natural locality is the dry desertcountry of Southern California, westernArizona and northwestern Sonora. They

live in small colonies. Their habitationis often a labyrinth of intercommunicat-ing burrows from a few inches to two feetbeneath the surface. Sometimes a colonyis found in a low mound formed by asand drift about a desert shrub; at othertimes in the flat level surface of a drylake.

They store large quantities of weedseed, the destruction of which more thancounterbalances any harm they may do.

D A T E S. . . fresh directf r o m Gardenson Palm Springs

San Antonio TUte ShOD Road.MRS. FRANCES GEORGE, INDIO, CALIF.

COME TO EL CENTRO

HUB of the Southwest Desert . . ."THE HEART OF IMPERIAL VALLEY"

EL CENTRO, geographically the center of theSouthern California desert and capital of the "Win-ter Garden of America" invites you to this land ofenchantment and scenic beauty.

El Centro is logically "The Center" for all touristactivity in the desert area. You find its progressivemerchants and professional men ready to supply yourparticular needs: hiking and prospecting equipment,clothes for roughing it, sports or dress, a center forall transportation facilities. Places of amusement andcivic organizations are eager to make your visit avery enjoyable one. If you are one who prefers justrelaxation you'll find El Centro's modern air-cooledhotels and motor courts truly comfortable and con-venient.

El Centro is only a few miles from the lofty peaks of the SantaRosa and Laguna mountains in the wilderness of ANZA DESERTPARK. To our South is the International boundary and Old Mexicoand to the north is Salton Sea with its famous boiling mudpots.

THIS FALL OR WINTER COME TO EL CENTRO . . . ENJOYA WEEK OR THE SEASON . . . REST, PLAY AND RELAX INTHIS LAND OF SUNSHINE AND DESERT BEAUTY.

Let us help plan your trip or vacation to El Centro. Our tour de-partment will gladly send you jree oj charge beautijully illustratedfolders describing specific trips, travel jacilities and accommodations.El Centro welcomes you. WRITE TO TOUR DEPARTMENT—

EL CEI1TRO CHflmBER Of COmmERCEEL CENTRO. CALIFORNIA ROBERT HAYS. Sec.-Manager.

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 33

I D U V A I I T C ^ e P i c t u r e shown below is the ruin of the old Over-Ill H I U L I I C bury building in the ghost mining camp of Rhyolite,

Nevada. The winner of the prize offered by the DesertMagazine in September for the best story about this abandoned structure isMyrtle T. Myles of Reno, Nevada. Her manuscript is printed on this page.

By MYRTLE T. MILES

/HE landmark pictured in the Sep-tember issue of the Desert Maga-zine shows ruins of the Overbury

block in the ghost camp of Rhyolite insouthern Nevada.

Rhyolite (so named for the volcanicformation) belongs to that colorful peri-od in Nevada mining following the turnof the century after Jim Butler's burrohad kicked the top off the Mizpah ledgeand started the Tonopah excitement. Itis about three miles west of Beatty inNye county and may be reached by StateHighway 58 branching off U. S. 95, orover Daylight pass from Death Valley.It lies in a depression of low hills thatopens southwest toward the Funeral rangeand is known to old-timers as the campthat appeared overnight. "BullfrogSmith" made the first strike in the vicini-ty in 1904, and a town was started. Thedistrict was named Bullfrog. Then BobMontgomery discovered and located theMontgomery-Shoshone. The Busch broth-ers laid out a rival townsite there offer-ing a free lot to anyone who would pitchhis tent in their town. So promptly wasthe offer accepted that by the next morn-ing the entire population had moved overand Rhyolite was on the map.

John T. Overbury had come to Nevadaduring the boom and in partnership with

Clarence Oddie took the contract to buildthe railroad grade into Tonopah. He wasattracted by the new strike and in thespring of 1906 built the block whichbears his name. By now Rhyolite was athriving town with two banks, a news-paper, a $50,000 school, business housesof all kinds and attractive homes cover-ing the hillsides. The Las Vegas andTonopah and the Tonopah and Tide-water railroads connected it with theUnion Pacific at Las Vegas and with themain line at Ludlow. The stucco depotof the former has recently been remod-eled for a southern Nevada night club.Another landmark is the Bottle House,a three room cottage made entirely ofbeer bottles.

The Overbury block was occupied byone of the banks, a jewelry store andvarious business offices. The San Fran-cisco earthquake and fire and the panicof 1907 withdrew capital from Nevadamines and the camp began a rapid de-cline. By 1912 the Overbury block wasunoccupied, but the final close down ofthe mines did not occur until 1918.Homes were left with furniture stand-ing and lizards and horned toads scuttleabout among old newspapers and for-gotten mining stock certificates left industy corners. In the early 1920s the

camp was used as location for the pic-ture "The Air-Mail " starring Billy Doveand in which Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. hadan early role.

John T. Overbury left with the rest butthe desert called him and he returned onlyto meet his death for he was killed in anaccident near Goldfield August 1923.Among his effects was found a requestthat wherever he might die he be buriedat Rhyolite. His wishes were carried out,and his body rests in the cemetery belowthe deserted camp.

• • •OUTPOST ONTHE COLORAD.O

Continued from page 8be the camping ground on this side forthe reason that the river is wider here,perhaps than at any other point on it andone side is impassable for a great portionof the year, and yet I understand that thiscommand has positive orders to establisha two-company post on the west bank, aplace inferior in every respect to a campin the Dismal Swamp of Virginia."

Permanent quarters were constructed ofcottonwood, willow and mud mortar.The roofs were flat, covered with brushand mud. Fort Mojave received its officialname sometime between April 28 andMay 3, 1859.

Two years later, almost to the day, onApril 29, 1861, the fort was orderedabandoned, the garrison and public prop-erty to be removed to Los Angeles inorder that the troops might protect thelatter pueblo from attacks by trouble mak-ing Southern sympathizers. In April1863, troops were once more ordered totake up quarters at the dreary outpost onthe Colorado.

A visitor at Fort Mojave in September.1871, left this description of the armypost as he observed it at that time. Hewrote:

"It is about seven miles below Hardy-ville, close to the Colorado river and hot-ter than the hinges of any preacher'sh — 11. It is a well built, clean, com-fortable post, and we may suppose farpreferable as a summer residence to h—11or Fort Yuma, although its occupantsclaim it is hotter than either of thoseplaces. Indeed Major Pond, the gentle-manly commandant assured us that hehad frequently seen the mercury rise apto stand at 118° in the shade! This tooin the coolest place in the coldest housein the fort. The Major took us throughhis company quarters and neater quarterswe have never seen. It was Sunday andthe men were enjoying themselves, somereading, some sleeping and so on. Allhad neatly painted bed-steads, and thearms, furniture, etc., shone with bril-liancy that not even the camp of a singlefly marred."

34 The DESERT MAGAZINE

Mysterious Cave in CaliforniaWho can identify this spot?

Prize AnnouncementIn the mountains on the western rim

of the Southern California desert is thecave pictured above. A faint trail leadsfrom the nearest paved highway and theplace is often visited by hikers. There isan interesting legend connected with thiscave and the mysterious people who for-merly used it as a rendezvous—and per-haps there is some truth in the stories.

Desert Magazine readers will want toknow more about this mysterious cavern.In order that the best available informa-tion may be printed in this magazine aprize of $5.00 will be paid to the person

MINE THAT HAS EVERYTHING. . . EXCEPT GEM STONES

Continued from page 28

foot wall, kidneys of lepidolite, rosettesof albite, and an abundance of black andcolored tourmaline frozen into the solidrock. But with all these favorable indi-cations—no gem pockets were encoun-tered. What might have been a goodcommercial gem mine is merely a finestudy ground for amateur prospectors andmineralogists. Nature plays strangepranks sometimes.

Collectors who follow the Desert Mag-azine field log to these claims shouldunderstand that they will find no goodcutting material here. However, they willhave an excellent opportunity to study theelements of a promising vein.

For those who do not care to go into

who identifies the picture and gives themost accurate directions for reaching it,and the most complete report of its leg-endary history. If the contestants care todo so they may submit a rough map ofthe route and location. The story is lim-ited to 500 words.

Entries in this contest should be in theoffice of the Desert Magazine not laterthan November 20, 1939, and the win-ning story will be published in the Janu-ary number. This contest is open to allreaders of the magazine regardless ofplace of residence.

the scientific side of the subject there areplenty of specimens containing mica, lepi-dolite, black and green tourmaline thatsparkle in the sun and will make a showyaddition to the mineral collection or rockgarden.

These claims are located in the heartof a desert area that has both scenic andhistoric attractions. The heavy rains inSeptember have given the desert healthycoloring. The landscape is bright andclean and untrammeled. The old Butter-field stage coaches followed the floor ofMason valley less than a mile from thespot where these claims are located.

Gem hunting is doubly enjoyable ifyou know at least a few of the commonbotanical specimens. When you becomeacquainted with them and their peculiari-ties you will always be among friendswhether you find any sparkling crystalsor not.

WeatketSEPTEMBER REPORT FROM

U. S. BUREAU AT PHOENIXTemperatures— Degrees

Mean for month - 82.4Normal for September 82.7High on September 1 110.Low on September 29 59-

Rain— InchesTotal for month 5-41Normal for September 0.75

W e a t h e r -Days clear 18Days partly cloudy - 4Days cloudy 8

J. M. LANNING, Meteorologist.

FROM YUMA BUREAUTemperatures— Degrees

Mean for month - 83.2Normal for September 83.7High on September 1 - 112.Low on September 27 .-- 60.

Rain— InchesTotal for month - 5.13

(greatest for September in 70 years)70-year average for September 0.40

Weather—Days clear - - 18Days partly cloudy 6Days cloudy - 6Sunshine 77 per cent (285 hours out ofpossible 371 hours, a new low record forSeptember.)

Colorado river—September discharge at GrandCanyon 598,000 acre feet. Estimated storageSeptember 30 behind Boulder dam 23,810,-000 acre feet.

JAMES H. GORDON, Meteorologist.

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N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 35

B O O K S... of the Desert3ACTI AND BOTANY . . .

FIELD BOOK OF WESTERN WILDFLOWERS, Margaret Armstrong.Handbook for both amateur and ad-vanced botanists. Illustrated with pensketches and 48 colored plates.596 pages $3.50

CACTI FOR THE AMATEUR, S. E.Haselton. By a ranking cacti authority.Color illustrations. Paper cover $1.00,board cover $1.50

CACTUS AND ITS HOME, ForrestShreve. A readable book for cacti andsucculent hobbyists. Illustrated.195 pages $1.50

DESERT CACTI, A. T. Helm. Newedition of a unique booklet, illustratedwith sketches 50c

HISTORY AND GENERAL . . .

BOOKS OF THE SOUTHWEST, MaryTucker. 105 page bibliography. Paperbound 75c

DEATH VALLEY, W. A. Chalfant. Au-thentic history of the famous sink.160 pages, ill $2.75

DESERT OF THE PALMS, Don Ad-miral. Scenic wonders of the PalmSprings region. 56 pages 50c

DESERT ROUGH CUTS, Harry Oliver.Short yarns about Borrego Desertcharacters, 61

/4x91/2, 64 pages. Illus-trated with cuts made by the author.Bound in boards, cloth back .... $1.50

I MARRIED A RANGER, Mrs. W. M.Smith. Amusing experiences at GrandCanyon. 179 pages $1.00

CALIFORNIA DESERTS, Edmund Jae-ger. Complete information on Colo-rado and Mojave deserts. 209 pages,illustrated $2.00

DEATH VALLEY, A GUIDE. Newpublication of Federal Writers Pro-ject. Very complete and beautifullyillustrated $1.00

BORN OF THE DESERT, C. R. Rock-wood. Story of Imperial Valley's con-quest 50c

DATES AS FOOD, Dr. Marko J. Peti-nak. Information for those seeking thefoundations of correct living 25c

IGVDIANS . . .

FIRST PENTHOUSE DWELLERS OFAMERICA, Ruth Underhill. Life andcustoms of the Pueblos. 154 pages,profusely illustrated $2.75

INDIAN TRIBES OF THE SOUTH-WEST, Mrs. W. M. Smith. A vividuseful handbook on the desert tribes.160 pages $1.00

Orders filled day received. Prices abovepostpaid in U. S. A.; sales tax 3 % addedfor buyers in California.

Desert Crafts Shop5S7 State Street El Centro, Calif.

OF YESTERDAY AND TODAYmonthly review of the best literature

of the desert Southwest, past and present.

SAINTS AND SINNERS ANDSCALP-HUNTERS IN ARIZONA

Phoebe Titus would be an unhappy misfitin the world today—but in that stirring periodwhen Arizona was a rendezvous for whiteoutlaws and every day was open season forApache scalp-hunters, she was a natural leader.

This young lady who made pies, money andAmerican history is the heroine in ClarenceBudington Kelland's historical novel ARI-ZONA, published by Harper Brothers thisyear.

Phoebe and her father left their home inIllinois to seek a fortune in the Californiagold fields. The father fell ill and died atTucson—and the daughter remained in squalorand lawlessness of the Arizona frontier be-cause she had faith in the future of a land sorich in natural resources.

Those were fighting days in Arizona, andPhoebe played a man's game. No one sus-pected there was a spark of sentiment in hernature—until the civil war brought PeterMuncie into her life. It was a strange romance—but it stood the test when the crisis came.

Clarence Budington Kelland has presenteda vivid interpretation of pioneer life in Ari-zona.

According to the philosophy of PhoebeTitus, " 'In this here kind of country the's gotto be two kind of folk . . . . ' There mustbe men to fight: hunters, trappers, prospectorsto be forerunners, to discover the rivers andmountains and trails and wealth of mineralsunder the surface of the earth; and to fightfor what they found. There must be othersto venture in upon the heels of these firstcomers and root themselves and cling in spiteof adverse nature and inimical savage — andwith grim fortitude to develop that whichwill result in civilization, in towns, in mines,in agriculture. The two are different in na-ture, but inseparable, each useless withoutthe other. Finders, fighters, clingers, builders!A foundation, these, upon which the nationbuilds its future."

No doubt there will be readers who willfeel that Kelland has painted his frontiercharacters in too lurid colors — but if thevirtue and villainy of his men and womenare over-emphasized, the book still remainshistorically sound. And there are no dullsentences in this history. $2.00. —R. H.

THESE ARE THE CLOWNSOF THE PLANT WORLD

The Abbey Garden Press at Pasadena, Cali-fornia has just released a concise, informativebook for growers and collectors of succulentsother than the cacti. From the same house lastyear came CACTI FOR THE AMATEUR, byScott E. Haselton. The author has now editedand published a companion book, SUCCU-LENTS FOR THE AMATEUR, written byJ. R. Brown, Alain White. Boyd L. Sloane andG. W. Reynolds.

A strange, fascinating assembly of 800 suc-culents is listed and described in the 172-page book. From the most unexpected sourcescome these odd members of the plant world.They masquerade in strange forms—livingrocks, inchworms and reptiles, jewels andtrees of jade, wax roses and desert stars.

SUCCULENTS FOR THE AMATEURoutlines the distribution, habitat and cultureof the succulents, followed by detailed de-scription of the plants listed by families. Its

authority is vouched for by the Cactus andSucculent Society of America, yet the botani-cal terms and relationships are so clearly setforth that today's beginner will find it aneasy guide.

Chief among its assets is the profuse illus-tration, credited not only to Southlanders, butto cactus and succulent hobbyists from Aus-tralia to South Africa—a far-flung brother-hood. Of the 400 plants shown, 88 are innatural color. The photographs are of speci-men plants and of garden and pottery arrange-ments. A number of detailed photos and draw-ings show structure and methods of propaga-tion. Completely indexed. Paper cover $1.55.art cloth $2.05.

• • •

THEY CAME TO THE DESERTFOR RELIGIOUS FREEDOM

Treasurer hunters, explorers and emigrantswho came to the basin of the Great Salt Lakein the first half of the 19th century foundlittle there to attract them. Then in 1847Brigham Young and his band of Mormonpioneers came over the mountain trails fromthe east and adopted the valley as their own.

A vivid history of this land—the regionwe know as Utah—has been written by Mar-guerite Cameron in THIS IS THE PLACE.The first edition of the book was publishedby the Caxton Printers of Caldwell, Idaho, inJanuary, and a revised edition was released inAugust.

Since most of the history of Utah was madeby the Mormons, the book deals mainly withthe beginnings, migrations, persecutions andtriumphs of this religious group.

Joseph Smith's vision, in 1820, came dur-ing a period when New York was the centerof religious turmoil. The author follows youngJoseph in his rise to leadership, tells how per-secution drove his little band from New Yorkto Ohio, to Missouri and then back to Nauvooin Illinois. Smith was assassinated in 1844 andBrigham Young became the dominating figurein the Church.

In the spring of 1846 the Mormons set outagain on their quest of a site for the NewZion. They blazed the famous "Old MormonTrail" up the Platte river and arrived in Julyat the summit of Big mountain where thev hadtheir first view of the country Wilford Wood-ruff called "the land of promise, held in re-serve by God as a resting place for his saints."

At the end of five years "Salt Lake Citygrew in grace and fruitfulness until it out-classed California and even old Mexico." TheDeseret constitution was drawn up in 1849—the same year California took this step towardstatehood—but Utah wasn't as fortunate asCalifornia in gaining statehood. When thename Deseret was discarded by the federalgovernment, boundaries were changed andUtah admitted into the union as a territory ayear later, the founders were sorely disap-pointed. Trouble between the two governments,one established by the Mormons and the terri-torial government set up by Congress was in-evitable. Fighting dragged on for eight years.

In 1890 the church manifesto was issueddecreeing abandonment of plural marriage. Sixyears later Utah became a state. "Forty-nineyears it took Utah to prove up for statehood,"the author observes.

Written in story form, the book is enter-taining as well as informative. More than 60photographs and maps illustrate the text.There is a roll of the pioneer Mormon band;bibliography and index. $3.00.

36 The DESERT MAGAZINE

DESERT ADVENTURES FORTHE SCHOOL CLASSROOM

Three desert school teachers combined thentalents in the preparation of DESERT TREAS-URE, a juvenile novel in which an adventur-ous story of the western frontier is supple-mented with a series of reading and study ex-ercises for instruction in the elementary schoolclass room.

The story is clean western thriller in whichtwo lads in their 'teens are pitted against thevillainy of an unscrupulous ranch foreman.With the help of a Chinese cook and an oldIndian scout they expose the foreman as amember of a gang of smugglers—and bringhim to justice after he has unwittingly aidedthem in the rediscovery of a lost gold mine.

The locale of the story is the Barstow-Yermo region of the Mojave desert of Califor-nia. Living persons in that area, with fictitiousnames, provided some of the characters in theplot.

The distinctive feature of the book is itsstudy exercises, designed as remedial instruc-tion in reading and vocabulary. Teachers willfind here something new and decidedly en-tertaining for their classrooms.

The story was written by Alice RichardsSalisbury and her sister Irmagarde Richards,the lesson studies by Miss Irmagarde andHelen Heffernan, head of elementary educationin the California school department. Mrs. Sal-isbury resided for many years at Daggett andis an enthusiastic devotee of the desert. BothMiss Heffernan and Miss Richards have taughtin desert schools. The book is published byHarr Wagner of San Francisco. $1.25.

NEW GUIDE BOOK FORPALM SPRINGS VISITORS

Palm Springs has been so busy building acolorful desert resort it overlooked the im-portant matter of providing a guide bookwhich would enable visitors to go out andexplore the many beautiful canyons and naturalgardens to be found around and beyond thelimits of the town.

But now a guide has been published—anda very informative and accurate one at that.William Mason and James Carling, writers,and Bee Nicoll, artist, have just issuedWHERE SHALL WE GO? A GUIDE TOTHE DESERT.

The 66-page booklet in paper cover logs 17interesting motor trips out of Palm Springs,each with map and mileage table. The motorjourneys range from the 2.6-mile trip to Tah-quitz canyon, to a 296-mile excursion thatincludes the Pala mission and old Vallecitostage station.

In addition to the motorlogs, the book con-tains a brief description of the geography,geological history, climate, archaeology, floraand fauna of the Colorado desert.

It is a little book of fact, presented in anorderly and readable manner, and well illus-trated by Bee Nicoll's sketches. Palm Springsvisitors who want to become better acquaintedwith the desert that lies beyond the zone ofneon lights and fashionable costumes will findthis an invaluable guide book. 50 cents.

NOVEMBER COVERThis month's cover picture on the Desert

Magazine is "Newspaper Rock" in the Petri-fied Forest national monument near Holbrook,Arizona. These strange symbols, typical ofIndian markings found in thousands of placeson the southwestern desert, were inscribed byan unknown race at an indefinite period in thepast. Neither Indian nor scientist of today hasbeen able to translate them with any degreeof certainty. The photograph was taken byDr. Warren F. Fox, El Centra, California. Dr.Fox studies archaeology as a hobby and has afine collection of artifacts, acquired during histravels in the Southwest.

MlneALos Angeles, California . . .

Specifications of the U. S. treasury de-partment procurement division must bemodified if southwestern mines are to sup-ply strategic minerals, according to the localchamber of commerce mining committee.Suggestion for a conference has been for-warded to Washington, for discussion ofhow western producers of chrome, manga-nese and other materials can be assisted indeveloping and producing these materials inthe United States. Unless change is made inpresent restrictions, the government will beforced to buy from Turkey, Cuba and otherforeign nations, it is asserted. Experts saythe southwest has an abundance of lowgrade ores which could be reduced tobriquets or concentrates, but high gradechrome and manganese cannot be suppliedin lump as specified, the mining editor ofthe Los Angeles Times declares.

• • •

Virginia City, Nevada . . .Fire, believed to have been started by

lightning, wiped out last of the old-timefamous mines of the Comstock Lode, whensurface workings of the Consolidated Vir-ginia and California were destroyed in themost spectacular blaze this community hasknown since the camp was burned in 1875.John Mackey, James G. Fair, James C.Flood, William S. O'Brien were bonanzakings of the 1870s when the C. V. & C.was at peak of its glory. Since the early1920s the mine had not been worked. Nowits structures, hoist and compressor, cablehouse, main hoist house, offices and out-buildings spread over several acres, are inashes.

• • •

Tonopah, Nevada . . .Nye county mining operators first six

months in 1939 paid bullion tax exceeding$15,000. an increase of approximately 56per cent over the record for last half of1938, according to a report from W. H.Thomas, sheriff and assessor. Greater ac-tivity in the Manhattan district is responsi-ble for large part of the gain, although allsections of the county show increases. Man-hattan gold dredging company handled2,063,832 cubic yards of gravel from Janu-ary 1 to July 1, 1939.

• • •

Mina, Nevada . . .Production of brucne at properties 30

miles from Luning will be stepped up frompresent output of 90 tons daily, it is re-ported here. Installation of a roasting plantis planned by U. S. Brucite company, to de-hydrate the ore, now being shipped to Cleve-land and other eastern cities. The mineral isused in manufacture of monometal, variousalloys, chemicals and other industrial pro-ducts. War conditions are expected to in-crease demand.

• • •

Santa Rita, New Mexico . . .Following higher price for copper and

better demand. Consolidated copper corpor-ation announced, effective October 1, hikeof 10 per cent in wage scale for all mine,mill and smelter employes in Santa Ritaand Hurley camps. Substantial addition isbeing made to working forces. Other majorproducers of the red metal have taken simi-lar action. Their pay scale contracts aregraduated according to price of copper.

Miami, Arizona . . .At half a dozen mines in the Crysotile

district asbestos production is experiencinga mild boom. Largest active mine is theRegal, handling 200 tons a month. Fromthe Emsco 50 tons are shipped each monthto Los Angeles, where it is prepared formarket. Property owned by Johns-Manvillecorporation has been put into shape for re-suming operation, after idleness dating to1931.

• • •

Kingman, Arizona . . .Two major Mohave county mines, the

Boriana and the Tennessee-Schuykill, willbe reopened because demand for lead, zincand tungsten is stiffening as a result of theEuropean war. At one time the Boriana wassecond largest producer of tungsten in theUnited States. After being shut down ayear, work has been started by its owner,Molybdenum corporation of America. Pay-roll includes 125 to 150 men. Tennesse-Schuykill at Chloride has been closed sinceJanuary, due to low prices for lead and zincand uncertainty as to silver. When shutdown 115 men were discharged.

• • •

San Francisco, California . . .Every one of California's 58 counties

contributed to production of 60 differentmineral substances reported during 1938with total value of $380,444,976, accordingto a report from Walter W. Bradley, statemineralogist. This record tops 1937 by418,929,025. Petroleum showed greatestincrease in value of output, with gold next.From 13,753 producing wells came 249,-395,763 barrels of crude oil valued at $258,-354,343. Gold production amounted to1,311,129 fine ounces, worth $45,889,515,from 927 lode mines and 675 placer mines,not including snipers, prospectors and vari-ous individuals who sold small lots.

• • •

El Centre California . . .Modern machinery will handle placer

gravels of the Mesquite district workedhundreds of years ago by Mexicans and In-dians, 50 miles northeast of here. In a des-ert region "noted for its lack of water" asone writer describes it. The Desert gold andaluminum corporation of Washington hasdrilled water wells, placed contract for$30,000 worth of 10-inch pipe, and is pre-paring to wash 90 cubic yards of gravel anhour. Leases have been taken on 2000 acres.Gravel will be put through a trommel whichdumps coarser materials automatically. Finerresidue goes through a 3/4-inch screen, intosluice boxes and over three sets of jigs. Con-centrates are retorted into bricks after be-ing put through an amalgamator. Mesquitemining and milling company is operating100 claims in this area, reporting rich gravelin a 200-foot shaft. Sixty miners are nowemployed in the district.

• • •

Laredo. Texas . . .Within a few days more than 100 cars of

lead have been shipped from Mexicothrough border ports of entry, destined toEngland and France. Forty-five cars of themetal passed through here in one day. Warhas stimulated Mexico's mining industrygenerally, according to reports from manydistricts below the international boundary.

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 37

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38

H 6 R € flRD T H 6 R C. . . on the %eAe/it

CALIFORNIACoachella . . .

Riverside county supervisors have adoptedan ordinance giving permanent status towildflower reserves in Coachella valley, thusprotecting desert flora which annually at-tracts thousands of tourists. Local enactmentfollows action of the state legislature au-thorizing establishment of protected areas.

Death Valley . . .Homefolks here receive with reserve a

report that a newspaper man has uncoveredthe secret of Death Valley Scotty's fabulouswealth. Story goes that reporter and pho-tographer on an expedition in vicinity ofScotty's castle in Grapevine canyon foundan aged prospector who told them he hadguarded Scotty's secret for 35 years. Nowhe tells all: the truth, he avers, is thatScotty has been buying ore from a mine inthe Panamint range overlooking this famoussink. Source of Scotty's gold has ranged intheory from a hidden mine to purse of hispartner, A. M. Johnson, retired millionaire.Most people believe Johnson provides theold desert rat with spending money hescatters lavishly.

Borrego . . .A 12-month armistice in the controversy

over the expansion of Anza state park isindicated in a letter to San Diego countysupervisors from Fred W. Johnson, TJ. S.land commissioner at Washington, D. C.California will ask for no more patents ongovernment land during the next year, pend-ing a study of the proposed park area, John-son wrote. Supervisor Walter Bellon hasbeen leading the fight against enlargementof the desert park, declaring it will closepotentially valuable mineral and farminglands. Proponents of the park project denyBellon's statement. "Lands having any pro-ductive value already have been privatelyacquired," they say, "and will not be in-cluded in the park."

Independence . . .Death Valley's Skidoo News of April 25,

1908, carried only one news story, under abanner "MURDER IN CAMP, MURDER-ER LYNCHED WITH GENERAL AP-PROVAL." According to the News, saloon-man Joe Simpson held up respected bankerJim Arnold, the banker was shot and killed.Enraged citizens overpowered a sheriff'sposse led by deputy Henry Sellers, held apublic lynching. Copy of the News has beenpresented to the Eastern California Museumassociation, together with gun owned bySimpson, picture of the hanged man andpiece of the rope used to hang him.

Indio . . .Date picking and packing was well under

way in Coachella Valley early in October.Total pack is expected to be considerablylarger than last year, when 6,603,456 poundsof dates were harvested, a short crop due tokilling frosts. Small carryover, reduced im-portations because of war conditions willassure growers better prices, according to themarketing organization controlling 85 percent of valley production. Choice new cropsoft dates retail now at 50 cents per pound.Expecting record harvest, California dategrowers association, largest date packingplant in the world, has nearly doubled ra-pacity. Rain damage cut original estimatesof 11,000,000-pound crop for 1939.

El Centro . . .Imperial valley's ail-American canal as

originally planned is all completed now ex-cept one structure at the Alamo river, accord-ing to U. S. reclamation bureau announce-ment. However, the canal will not be avail-able for several months owing to the necessi-ty of clay-lining a section of several miles toprevent damage from seepage in the Bardarea.

ARIZONACasa Grande . . .

Largest known organ pipe cactus in Ari-zona is an isolated specimen growing northof Red Rock and more than 100 miles fromboundary of Organ Pipe national monu-ment. Its 22 arms are 14 feet high. Biggestspecimen in the monument has 17 arms av-eraging 11 feet high. Park naturalist DaleKing says plants frequently attain maximumgrowth in northern limits of their range.This giant cactus was discovered by a pros-pector who reported it to the Boyce Thomp-son Arboretum.

Phoenix . . .To supply quail and other game birds

with water in remote Arizona districts thestate game and fish commission considersplan to establish 200 artificial water holes.William Sawtelle, game warden, says 50-gallon drums equipped with poultry valvesshould do the trick. He thinks deer hunterswill be greatest threat to success of the pro-gram. "Galvanized tanks make excellent tar-gets," Sawtelle declared. "We appeal to allhunters to resist desire to shoot at them."One 50-gallon tank should supply water forseveral hundred birds nearly a year, thewarden believes. Poultry valves are attachedto a five-foot section of pipe near theground. Birds peck at the valves to obtainmoisture.

Flagstaff . . .Young people of the Havasupai, living at

the end of 15 miles of pack trails in thebottom of a Grand Canyon tributary wantUncle Sam's aid in home building on theirreservation, smallest in the nation. Tribalterritory includes only 500 acres at the footof red and cream cliffs towering 2500 feetabove cultivated small farms. Petitioners askfor cement to construct stone houses, forequipment to work their patches of land.

Flagstaff . . .New style Navajo-woven rug is hailed

here as important development in Indiancrafts. Made for Gouverneur Morris, aninch thick, two-tone product of the handloom has been described as similar to Chi-nese weaving which sells for $7 to $9 asquare foot. Observers believe Navajo costsmay be held to $1.50 a yard.

Flagstaff . . .Indian traders will not be required to pay

sales taxes, if recommendation of D. C.O'Neil, chairman of Arizona's state taxcommission is approved. O'Neil and otherstate officials came here to discuss this prob-lem with northern Arizona traders. O'Neilasserted the move to collect sales taxes fromIndians is intended to force inclusion of In-dians in the state's social security set-up andmake them eligible for old-age pensions.U. S. department of interior ruled Indiansshould pay the tax.

The DESERT MAGAZINE

Holbrook . . .Navajos will miss sage counsel of White

Hat, famous singer of old-time tribesmen,one of the last of the mountain men, whodied recently, aged 65- Because no Navajcwould touch the dead, White Hat's wifeand children begged white friends to help.By automobile the body was carried to thehome of White Hat's forefathers in themountains near Canyon de Chelly. Therethe corpse was laid on a smooth rock. Anew white hat was placed on his breast, foodand tobacco left nearby, two fine horseswere slaughtered at the spot, to serve theirowner in the happy hunting grounds andseveral hundred small rocks were heapedover the body. This, says Mrs. WhiteMountain Smith in her account of the cere-mony, is the most honorable of 13 modes ofNavajo burial.

Grand Canyon . . .One of three naturalists on the Byrd ex-

pedition to the Antarctic will be Herwil M.Bryant, eldest son of Dr. H. C. Bryant,superintendent of Grand Canyon nationalpark. This is second time a park servicenaturalist has been selected for Byrd'ssouthern migration.

Tucson . . .Story of 1900 years of climatic history,

studied in thousands of trees, is told in 850photographs of tree rings sent by Dr. An-drew E. Douglass to the clipping serviceof the federal department of agriculture.Trees were used for photographs in Ari-2ona, New Mexico, Colorado and California.Dr. Douglass, internationally known spe-cialist whose tree-ring calendar won world-wide fame for its originator, says in hisphotographs every ring, especially those af-ter 200 A. D.—shows up in 12 to 15 trees.He insists on necessity of finding duplicatesof all rings for cross-dating and corrobor-ation of weather records they reveal.

Nogales . . .Fifteen monuments, each the tiny figure

of a priest standing in a niche of nativestone, will be erected in five counties ofsouthern Arizona along El Camino de losPadres, the route followed by the fathersof mission days. Three locations will be usedin each county, Santa Cruz, Pima, Pinal,Maricopa and Yuma; on U. S. highway 89from Nogales to Tucson; on highway 84from Tucson through Casa Grande to GilaBend; on highway 80 from Gila Bend toYuma. Arizona highway department and na-tional youth administration sponsor the pro-ject.

NEVADALas Vegas . . .

Sightseeing passengers on a boat en-route from Boulder dam to lower reaches ofGrand Canyon recently surprised a moun-tain lion which had just killed a rare speci-men of sand dune deer, saw the lion tear-ing at the deer's throat, and in the ba"k-ground another deer and mountain sheep.Pilot Fred Hilty made a landing, scared thelion away, went ashore with his boat party.A physician examined the lion's victim, saidit had been dead about seven minutes.

Carson City . . .Non-resident permits issued to out of

state motorists in 1940 will carry this legendon windshield stickers: "Nevada, one st-itewithout an income tax, a corporation tax,an inheritance tax, a gift tax, a sales tax—with cheap power and liberal mining, cor-poration, taxation and other laws. Welcometo Nevada."

Las Vegas . . .I. C. C. hearing is scheduled here tor

November 20 on application of Grand Can-yon-Boulder Dam Tours, Inc., for operationof seasonal tours over nine routes in Ne-vada, Arizona, Utah and California. BetweenMay and November the Boulder City firmwould transport persons, light express andnewspapers on following lines: Las Vegasand Boulder dam recreational area; King-man, Arizona and area, via Boulder City;Moapa, Nevada and area, via Lost City,Nevada; Pierce's Ferry junction, Arizonaand area, via Pierce's Ferry, Arizona; Hack-berry, Arizona and area, via Pierce's Ferry;Needles, California and area, via BoulderCity; Lost City and Pierce's Ferry road, Ne-vada; St. George, Utah and area, and Kanab,Utah and area.

Carson City . . .Nevada has 284 registered physicians and

70 per cent of them, perhaps highest aver-age for any state in the union, are mem-bers of the American medical association, ac-cording to report by Dr. John E. Worden,secretary of the state board of medical ex-aminers. Twenty Nevada M. D.'s have prac-ticed more than 40 years, the oldest doctorstill active in his profession was born in1852.

• • •

NEW MEXICOSanta Fe . . .

At the state penitentiary work has startedon New Mexico's 1940 motor vehicle licenseplates, black numerals on red background,the colors of Spain. Prison workers willturn out 90,000 passenger car plates carry-ing the line "Coronado Cuarto Centennial."

Albuquerque . . .Pistol toters, wearing belts filled with car-

tridges when they went to the state fairhere were warned by Donald Moses, assist-ant district attorney, to leave their weaponsat home. Dressing up in the western spiritis OK, Moses announced, but it's dangerousas well as unlawful to carry guns, the lawyerreminded New Mexicans. "Leave your gunsat home," he advised. "That's the best wayto avoid trouble."

Santa Fe . . .Headquarters here will be set up for na-

tional park service survey of historic sites,measuring and photographing importantbuildings in danger of demolition. Biggestsingle survey completed was "measuringand blueprinting of 100 pueblo houses com-posing Acoma, historically fortified city atopa 360-foot high mesa in New Mexico, whichlong defied capture by Spanish cunquista-dores." Money for Historic American Build-ings survey comes from transfer of $124,-500 by PWA.

Gallup . . .Despite decline in attendance at south-

western monuments and parks, visitors toCanyon de Chelly on the Navajo Indianreservation increased more than 150 percent in July, says the national park service.General reduction in patronage at otherpoints was charged to two woild's fairs.New Mexico editorial writer suggests per-haps charges recently put into effect atfederal monuments and parks had some ef-fect. There has been no drop in touristtravel in New Mexico.

• • •

UTAHDelta . . .

Astonished was Mrs. Violet Stoddardwhen she opened the flour bin in her kitch-en and found a rattlesnake inside. Thehousewife's son killed the reptile.

Jensen . . .In a 35-pound canvas canoe Charles F.

Mann, 29-year-old York, Pa., taxidermist,stopped here briefly on his way to the GrandCanyon, Lake Mead and the mouth of theColorado river. In 10 days he voyaged in afrail 14-foot kayak 200 miles down theGreen river from Green River, Wyoming.Twice his craft capsized in Ladore canyon,but he salvaged boat and all equipment. Atthis point Mann was half way to the junc-tion of Green and Colorado rivers, a stretchof 200 miles walled in by precipitous cliffswith many dangerous falls and rapids. No-body has ever completed the trip to LakeMead in a light canoe, although othershave made the attempt. On October 1,Mann arrived safely at Green River, 150miles south of here. He looked tired andworn. Next scheduled stop is Lee's Ferry,300 miles down river.

Vernal . . .Utah motor vehicle plates will be made

at stateprison, where order has been placedfor 167,565. Numbers will be assigned bydistricts, as an aid to identification of cars.

Kanab . . .Filming of "westerns" has brought pros-

perity to this village, because it is close tovaried types of forest, canyon and desertterritory. During past summer it is estimatedmotion picture production added an incomeof $200,000 to the community of 1300residents.

There's no finer place to enjoy desertlife than the Desertlnn—a 35-acregar-den estate in the midst of scenicsplendors. So carefree and informal,yet one of America's most luxurioushotels. Join the distinguished wintercolony who finds here perfect rest orrecreation. Your own private bunga-low; swimming pool, tennis courts . . .all sports. And food par excellence!

. . . 31 years underoriginal ownershipand managementNellie N. Cojfman,Earl Coffman andGeorge Roberson.

Send for bookleton SUN D I N I N GAddress Suite 35

PALM SPRINGS CALIFORNIAJust 3 Hours from Los Angeles

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 39

Gem Collectors!For beginners in the healthful and

fascinating hobby of gem and mineralcollecting we offer two sample setsthat will be an invaluable help to you:

SPECIMEN BOXOf 15 different gems and minerals

mounted in an attractive case with labels.Includes copper ore, tourmaline, silver ga-lena, rose quartz, dumortierite (desert lap-is) , petrified wood, marcasite, turquoise,agate, jasper, Iceland spar, onyx, fluorite,obsidian, and gold ore. Set includes smallhand lens.

$1.00Plus 3c tax in California.

NEW WONDER SETOf gems and minerals includes jasper,

obsidian, turquoise, gypsum, silver galena,asbestos, blue calcite, graphite, opal, cop-per ore, tourmaline, Iceland spar, marca-site, rose quartz, fluorite, onyx, petrifiedwood and gold ore.

Set contains streak testing block, bottleof mounting glue, small hand lens, 25printed mounting cards, and instructionmanual for gathering and classifying yourgem collection.

$1.50Plus 5c tax in California

BOOKS FOR GEM COLLECTORS

GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH MIN-ERALS,G. L. English. Fine introductionto mineralogy. 258 illustrations,324 pages $2.50

LEGENDS OF GEMS, H. L. Thomson.Elementary principles of gems and gem-cutting. 136 pages $1.15

HANDBOOK FOR THE AMATEURLAPIDARY, J. H. Howard. One of thebest guides for the beginner gemcutter.140 pages. Good illustration $2.00

QUARTZ FAMILY MINERALS, Dake,etc. New and authoritative handbook forthe mineral collector. Illustrated.304 pages $2.50

DESCRIPTIVE LIST of the New Minerals1892 to 1938, by G. L. English. For ad-vanced collectors. 258 pages $2.50

FIELD BOOK OF COMMON ROCKSAND MINERALS, by Frederic Brew-ster Loomis. Fine handbook for collec-tors. Beautifully illustrated. Includes 67colored plates for identifying gem crys-tals $3.50

We Pay Postage on all Items.

Plus 3 % sales tax in California

Desert Crafts ShopEl Centro, Calif.597 State Street

GEMS AND MINERALSThis month the Desert Magazine starts a new department—a section

written for those who are interested in geology, gem and mineral col-lecting, rock gardens and kindred subjects. These pages are to be editedby Arthur L. Eaton, veteran collector and lecturer, and are designed tointerest both amateurs and advanced students.

Mineral societies of the Southwest are invited to send in news of theirfield trips, exhibits, rare finds and other items which will be of interestto other collectors.

Gem and mineral collecting is a fascinating hobby—especially forthose who have access to the desert where there is an inexhaustiblefield of new material. The staff of the Desert Magazine extends greetingto members of the "rockbound" fraternity and invites criticism and sug-gestions from those who are interested in this new department.

LOS ANGELES COLLECTORSTO HAVE NIGHT CLASSES

"Trips Afield" is the title of a geologycourse being given this fall by the extensiondivision of the University of California inLos Angeles. The class meets in the eveningat Room 812 at the downtown classroom cen-ter at 815 S. Hill street.

Four field trips are planned during theschool year and the class is open to anyoneinterested in the study and collecting of rocksand minerals. Dr. Robert W. Webb is in-structor.

IMPERIAL SOCIETY TO CAMPAT CHUCKAWALLA WELLS

Imperial Valley Gem and Mineral society,meeting monthly at El Centro, California, hasscheduled two field trips for its fall season.The first on October 22 is to include Traver-tine rock and the Rainbow rock area in theeastern end of Santa Rosa mountains.

The second trip will be an overnight camp-ing excursion to the geode fields near Chucka-walla wells November 11 and 12. This areahas been a happy hunting ground for col-lectors for many years and has produced manyfine geodes.

The Imperial valley club meets alternateTuesday evenings in El Centro and always hasmoney in its treasury despite the fact thatmembers pay no dues. Funds are raised by oc-casional auctions of stones contributed by themembers.

COAST COLLECTORS PLANMINERAL EXPOSITION

BY BLANCHE L. ANDERSONEditor, Pacific Mineralogist.

Next field trip of the Los Angeles Mineral-ogical society is to be the Santa Rosa moun-tains, according to the announcement on Sep-tember 21 when the society opened its fallseason with a well attended meeting.

Members were entertained at the Septembermeeting by Donald Mulvey with motion pic-tures from Death Valley, also pictures of oneof the society's three-day field trips on thedesert. This showed members gathering speci-mens—also some of the joys and problems ofcamp life.

According to the president. Dr. John Her-man, January 14 and 15 are the dates tentative-ly set for the mineral exposition to be heldin the chamber of commerce building. Manymining and engineering organizations are plan-ning to have a part in the exhibits.

Misnamed Minerals

1. "Smoky Topaz"

"Smoky Topaz" is a name commonly known,and very generally used, among jewelers andgem cutters. Some of them really believe it tobe topaz, others unscrupulously use the termto increase sales.

The stone itself is really deserving of itsown place in the list of beautiful gems. It isa member of the great quartz family andshould be cut and sold as "Smoky Quartz."The color is probably due to radium emanationsin the ground. It varies from pale yellow toalmost black, in proportion to the frequencyof the rays. The black color is often changedto good topaz amber color by slow heating andcooling. Smoky quartz is too beautiful as agem to masquerade under any other name thanits own. Other names in use at the presenttime are "Cairngorm," "False Topaz," "Span-ish Topaz" and "Scotch Topaz."

D O N T ' SFOR MINERAL COLLECTORS

(Adopted by California Federation ofMineralogical Societies)

DON'T—collect minerals on private propertywithout permission unless positive thatpermission is unnecessary.

DON'T—fail to show appreciation for cour-tesies extended by owners of mineralproperties.

DON'T—interfere with equipment at un-guarded mines or quarries.

DON'T—unnecessarily destroy specimen ma-terial at the deposit. What may be in-ferior to you, others may be glad to col-lect.

DON'T—clean out a mineral deposit just tokeep the other fellow from getting some.

DON'T—abuse the other fellow's confidenceby spreading news of a mineral "find"which he has asked you to keep secret.

DON'T—handle the other fellow's specimenswithout permission.

DON'T—forget the Golden Rule, "Do untoothers as ye would have others do untoyou."

40 The DESERT MAGAZINE

DO YOU KNOWTHAT TURQUOISE-

—jewelry is the oldest jewelry found? SirFlinders Petrie, famous archaeologist, foundcarved turquoise bracelets in an Egyptian tombdating back to 5500 B. C.

• • •—presents were given to Cortez by Monte-

zuma, ruler of the Aztecs, because he believedCortez to be the god Quetzalcoatl, who taughtthe Aztecs how to shape turquoise?

• • •

—suspended on a string and held inside aglass would strike the hour, or so the Euro-peans of the Middle Ages believed?

• • •

—was not set in silver by the Indians ofArizona and New Mexico until about 1880 ?The old Navajo bracelets were made of deerhorns which were boiled and bent into shape.Holes were drilled in them with bone awls andbits of turquoise glued in with pifion gum.Turquoise was also used in mosaic earrings,disc-like beads and rough pendants.

• • •—owes its color to the copper in its mole-

cule? It is a phosphate of aluminum and cop-per with small quantities of iron and is foundonly in regions of barrenness and aridity.

• • •

—was mined by Isaac, father of Israel ofBiblical times, at Nishapur, Iran, formerlyPersia? The national stone of Iran, the Iranianterm for turquoise is "firozah," which means"victorious." The greatest turquoise mines inthe world are at Nishapur, Iran, which haveproduced continuously since Biblical days.

• • •—changed color when danger threatened

the owner, according to the belief of the Mid-dle Ages? "The Turkeys doth move whenthere is any peril prepared to him that warethit."

• • •

PUBLICATIONS FOR THE GEMAND MINERAL COLLECTOR

For members of the mineral and gem col-lecting fraternity who desire to keep fullyposted as to the world-wide developments inthis field, the Desert Magazine recommendsthe following:

PACIFIC MINERALOGIST, Blanche L.Anderson, editor. Published semi-annually,4918 Riverton Ave., North Hollywood, Cali-fornia. 20 cents a copy.

THE MINERALOGIST MAGAZINE. H.C. Dake, editor. Published monthly at 701-4Couch Building, Portland, Oregon. $2.00 ayear.

ROCKS AND MINERALS, Peter Zodac,editor. Published monthly at Peekskill, N. Y.$2.00 a year.

HILTON'Sand Qem

JOHN W. HILTON, Oivner.•

ON U. S. Highway 99, TenMiles South of Indio

•ACROSS FROM VALERIE JEAN DATE

SHOP. P. O. ADDRESS, THERMAL, CALIF.

The Desert Trading PostClassified advertising in this section costs eight cents a word, $1.60 minimum

per issue—actually about 10 cents per thousand readers.

PLANTS

BEFORE STORING PLANTS for winter I amoffering cuts of my Epiphyllum collection(Phyllocacti) for sale at 20c per cut. Withreasonable care they should be plants readyto bloom by spring. Have no catalogue butall are of new or very little known and bestvarieties. Young plants at 50c each. ButF. O. B. Los Angeles. H. M. Wegener,Collector of Phyllos. 1190 Leighton Ave.,Los Angeles, Calif.

GEMS AND MINERALS

HAND MADE jewels from desert gems.Rocks and minerals cut and polished. TheDesert Gem, 3807>/2 Fernwood Ave., LosAngeles, California.

GEM CUTTING—Send your rough desertgemstones to F. H. Wallace, Box 344, ElCentro, Calif., for expert facet and cabo-chon cutting and polishing. Gems and gemminerals for sale. Assaying. Prices on re-quest.

MINERALS, Fossils, Books, Indian Relics,Beadwork, Old Glass, Dolls, Miniatures,Photos, Stamps, Coins. Catalogue 6c. Lem-ley Curio Store, Northbranch, Kansas.

RXUSE THEGem

Cuttingmachine

W. A . FELKER 3521 Emerald St., Torrance, California

What's New For Xmas?

THE JOHNSGem Cutter

A complete, portable gem cutting out-fit for that rock and mineral collectorin the family who would like to turnhis collection of rough specimens intoa beautiful array of cabachon andfaceted gems.

An INEXPENSIVE GiftFor a Grand Profitable Hobby

Used Everywhere

Send for free folder or send 25c for20-page interesting, illustrated instruc-tion booklet describing the Johns GemCutter and the fascinating art of gemcutting.

The Johns Company, Dept. EL

SAPPINGTON, ST. LOUIS COUNTY, M O .

DESERT MUSEUM

ANTELOPE VALLEY INDIAN MUSEUM21 miles east of Lancaster. Be sure to visit

this interesting place. See the rel-ics of primitive man; how helived, fought and died.

Camp Grounds—Cabin— Pic-nic Tables. Director: H. Arden

Edwards. Resident Curator: Rex Johnson,Mail Address: Lancaster, California.

INDIAN CRAFTS

NAVAJO RUGS — direct from an Indiantrader. Prices are now the lowest in historyof Navajo weaving industry. Rugs will besent on approval to responsible parties.Write for prices and information.—E. A.Daniels, 306 San Francisco St., Santa Fe,New Mexico. (Mention the Desert Maga-zine.)

POINTS OF INTEREST

CATHEDRAL CITY, California, is a smallnicely situated village; quiet and inexpen-sive, where you learn to love the desert.See W. R. Hillery.

BENSON'S Service Station. Headquarters forvisitors to Borrego desert region, Gas, oil,water, meals, cabins, trailer space, informa-tion. On Julian-Kane Springs highway. P.O.Box 108, Westmorland, California.

GUIDE SERVICE

29 PALMS area, Geode fields, Joshua monu-ment. Many years familiarity. Adequatecamping equipment. Desert Guide, 198 S.Los Robles, Pasadena, California. SYcamore2-2963.

PROFESSIONAL SERVICES

MEXICAN LEGAL MATTERSAMERICAN ATTORNEY

Box 1736 - - El Paso, Texas

BOOKS

THE COMPLETE DESERT HANDBOOK—"Where Shall We Go?" Seventeen motor-logs; maps and information about the Colo-rado Desert. Price 50c. Available at DesertCrafts Shop, El Centro, California.

BOOKS for gem and mineral collectors. Maybe obtained by addressing Desert CraftsShop, 597 State St., El Centro, California.See listing and prices on page 40 of thisissue of Desert Magazine.

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 41

DESERT QUIZ ANSWERS

Questions on page 15

1—Death Valley.2—Yucca.3—Pottery.4—Utah.5—Hopi.6—Hardness of minerals.7—Billy the Kid.8—Imperial valley.9—Tucson.

10—Food.11—Never again tell the truth.12—Control the flood waters of

the Colorado river.12—Sandstone.14—Salt River valley.1 5—Superstition mountains.16—Silver.17—Quartz.18—200 years.19—Coolidge.20—Presidential order.

Kcconditioncd and new pipe, eating, valvestnd finings. Write for prices and booklet

?25 N. Mission Rd, U s Angeles, CApitol U121

In the Center of Downtown

LOS ANGELES

FOURTH andSPRING STS.

DOWNTOWN

Right in the center of activities . .. . . . a quiet, comfortable hotelhome . . 200 rooms ». nrFrom S2 withPrivate Bath

from f 1

Desert Place NamesMagazine is indebted to the research work done by the late Will C. Barnes,author of "Arizona Place Names;" to Betty Toulouse of New Mexico, to Mar-garet Hussmann of Nevada and Hugh F. O'Neil of Utah.

For the historical datacontained in this de-partment t h e Desert

Angelus De AnzaH O T E L

ARIZONA

ADAMANA Apache countyStation on A. T. & S. F. rr 25 miles east

of Holbrook on north bank of Rio Puerco.Established circa 1890 as a point fromwhich tourists could visit petrified forest tothe south. Barnes says every writer visitingthe forest has undertaken to weave a ro-mance about the name Adamana. Severaltraced its origin to a settler named Adamand his wife. Lillian Whiting in The Landof Enchantment said it's a corruption of"adamant," others wrote stories equallyfanciful. Fact is, says Barnes, in early days(1879-1890) two partners, Jim Cart andAdam Hanna grazed several thousand sheepin the vicinity. Their headquarters ranchwas south of the Puerco opposite presentrailroad station of Carrizo. Driving fromthe sheep camp at the petrified forest oneDecember night in 1885 Mrs. Cart and twosmall children were caught in a blizzard.Abandoning the team they took shelter un-der an overhanging bluff. There they werefound frozen to death, almost in sight ofhome. Hanna married in Holbrook a youngwoman whose name was Maggie, not Anna.Railroad official coined name from oldScotsman's two names, Adam Hanna. Hannadied long years ago, is buried in the littlecampo santo at Holbrook.

CALIFORNIA

YUHA WELL Imperial countyNear here while prospecting in the 1880s

the Breedlove party perished from heat andthirst. Roy Breedlove, son of the man wholost his life in that tragedy, today is aprominent and respected resident of Im-perial county. Jasper says he never hasbeen able to find the meaning of the wordYuha, or who first applied it to this waterhole on the desert. (For Yuha valley seeDesert Magazine place names June 1939) •Located a short distance north of the in-ternational boundary, the well is in Yuhavalley in the western part of the countysouth of U. S. highway 80 and southeast ofCoyote Well. Oyster shells "big as dinnerplates" are found here. In 1901 San Diegansorganized the Yuha well oil company, in-stalled a drilling rig and spudded in a well.Charles H. Swallow, then a San Diegocounty supervisor, was superintendent andgeneral manager. After a year's prospectingthey found no oil and the project wasabandoned.

NEVADA

PANACA Lincoln count''Named for Mormon settlers from Indian

word panacar or panagar, which meansmoney, according to William Palmer. Wordalso means iron, copper, silver or othermetals. When old mining camp Bullionvillewas set up and Indians saw metal extractedfrom rocks they called camp "Panacar."Mormons adopted tribesmen's choice.

F.LKO Elko countyName given to the settlement by Charles

Crocker, one of the directors of the Cen-tral Pacific railway, who added an "o" to

the word "elk." A great number of theseanimals roamed the nearby hills at thattime. The C. P. reached Elko in 1868. Elkocounty was created from a part of Landercounty.

• • •

NEW MEXICO

SANTA FE (Santa Fay) Santa Fe countyLa Villa Real de la Santa Fe de San

Francisco de Assisi (The Royal City of theHoly Faith of Saint Francis of Assisi) wasfounded and named in 1610 by Don Juande Peralta according to some historians.Others claim it was settled earlier (1605)and named by Don Juan de Onate. In1598 Onate led the first Spanish settlers in-to the Rio Grande valley, establishing themalong the river and his first capital at SanGabriel, New Mexico. In 1605 or 1610—as you prefer—the capital was moved tothe town now known as Santa Fe. Indiansand Spaniards lived peaceably together un-til 1680 when Indians rebelled against theintruders and killed or drove out all ofthem, survivors fleeing to El Paso del Norte.Twelve years later Don Diego de Vargaswas appointed governor general of NewMexico. Following his reconquest of SantaFe in 1692 the Spanish moved in again.After 1821 New Mexico was ruled by theMexican regime and Santa Fe became themost important center in the west for tradeas well as gay social life. At that time theSanta Fe trail was made famous. In 1846New Mexico became a territory of theUnited States and American military occu-pation in Santa Fe continued for five years.The famous palace of governors ceased tobe a seat of government in 1885, afterhaving served in that capacity since the ear-ly 1600s. However, it was the governor'sresidence until 1910. New Mexico gainedstatehood in 1912 with Santa Fe as statecapital.

UTAH

MAGOTSA Washington countyOld emigrant trail to California ran from

Cedar City west through Iron springs pass,up the desert past the present-day sites ofthe towns of Newcastle and Enterprise, overthe hills to Mountain Meadows, thence a-cross the southern divide and down theslope to Magotsa. Indian word is Ma-haut-sa, and means the end of a long slope, ac-cording to William R. Palmer.

KANOSH Millard countyTown in Pahvant valley on Zion park

highway. Settled in 1868 by W. C. Penny.Named for a Pahvant Indian chief, whosetribe was converted to Mormonism. It issaid that after his conversion Kanosh's skingradually became whiter until he was al-most like a white man. Settlement was firstcalled Corn creek because the Indians grewcorn there.

PARLEY'S CANYON Salt Lake countyThis canyon was named for Parley P.

Pratt, who opened the first road through it.First geological board in Utah, August 22,1847, Brigham Young, chairman, bestowedname "Big canyon creek." By common con-sent this was changed to "Parley's GoldenPass" and later to "Parley's canyon."

42 The DESERT MAGAZINE

HARVEST CAMP INTHE NAVAJO FOREST . . .

Continued from page 32

Bear people get angry when the Navajocopy them."

Each day grew colder. Slate coloredbackdrops dulled the northern sky. Onemorning we awoke with the wind howl-ing and our tent swaying. When we wentoutside minute particles of ice prickedour faces. Grey-black clouds were gather-ing in the northwest.

We saw Old Lady Sam come out ofher tent and sniff the air. She ducked in-side and we heard her yell. "The prairiedogs and Hopi were right. They wentinto their holes early. There is going tobe a big snow this winter. It's comingright now. Stir yourselves, my daughters.Start breaking camp. Let us get off thismountain. We must not be snowbound."

Old Lady Sam knew by bitter exper-ience. Early snow had caught her nearBear Tank in 1932. Her outfit almoststarved and froze to death. Only thebundles of food and clothing droppedfrom the air by bombers from MarchField, California, saved the Navajo.

When the heavy snows again fell in1936 the old lady had her family warmin their winter hogans near Fort Defiance.Temperatures plummeted to 30 belowzero that year. Many Navajo were ma-rooned between Zuni pueblo and theMagdalena mountains in Socorro county,New Mexico. Aerial scouting by E. R.Fryer, superintendent of the Navajo, lo-cated them. Their "wildcat" truckers haddeserted them or were snowbound them-selves. Indian service trucks loaded withfood and clothing pushed through thehigh drifts to succor them.

By mid-morning our cavalcade of wag-ons and horsemen strung out through theforest. By noon the wheels of the wagonswere crunching through the newly fallensnow that covered the frozen floor of theforest. The pines were laced in white. Attwilight we passed from the forest. Be-low us patches of snow mottled the hazyexpanse of Black creek valley. Behind theragged black grimness of Black Rock arising column of coal-black smoke swirledfar into the dusky winter sky. There layFort Defiance and home. The pinon har-vest of 1938 was over.

Special AfeiltIn addition to the September prize win-

ners shown on page 2 the followingphotographs were selected as having un-usual quality:

"Wild Burros" by Rose Wilson, Whit-tier, California.

"Storm Clouds" by James Jenkins, LosAngeles, California.

0 /

Among the many writers who havecontributed material to the Desert Maga-zine, none can claim as many years ofcontinuous residence on the desert asGEO. E. PERKINS of Overton, Nevada,whose "Trail of a Renegade Pahute" inthis issue is an authentic record of oneof the most thrilling manhunts in thehistory of the Southwest.

George Perkins was born on the desert,his parents having moved to southern Ne-vada in October 1881. His only school-ing was in a one-room tent. Most of hisboyhood companions were Pahute Indianboys — and they have been his loyalfriends all through life.

"I wanted an education," George saidto the editor of Desert Magazine, "andafter getting an elementary schooling inreading, writing and arithmetic in thatlittle tent, I continued to study when Icould at the campfire in the cattle camps,and on the road when I was freighting."

George served as deputy sheriff inClark county, Nevada, for many years,and later was justice of the peace at Over-ton. He resides there today as a privatecitizen. He knows every trail and waterhole in the southern Nevada region andwas keenly interested in the archaeologi-cal excavations at Lost City before theywere submerged in Lake Mead.

It is especially gratifying to the staffof the Desert Magazine to have contri-butions from frontiersmen who are asgenuine as George Perkins.

ELIZABETH LEWIS, whose five-daytrip to the summit of White mountain istold in this issue of the Desert Magazine,was initiated into the fraternity of desertdwellers in 1928 when she and her hus-band were married and took over themanagement of an old-fashioned countrystore on the Mojave, 22 miles from town.There they remained seven years.

Mrs. Lewis is a native of Marylandand came to California when she was 13.She attended South Pasadena high schooland studied art at the University ofCalifornia in Los Angeles. Althoughshe is now a resident of Los Angeleswhere she designs textiles, wallpaper andmagazine covers, she prefers the outdoorsand is an active member of the Sierraclub of California. "I live in the city,"she remarks, "but I have never becomeentirely civilized according to city stand-ards."

GRACE P. NICKERSON who haswritten about Kangaroo rats this monthfor Desert Magazine readers, studies des-ert rodents purely as a hobby. She ispracticing physician and surgeon in LosAngeles, specializing in ear, nose andthroat ailments.

When there is an opportunity to getaway from her office for a few days sheusually motors to the desert country andhas traveled most of the highways andbyways from Mono lake to the Mexicanborder. For three years she was secretaryof the Zoological Society of Los Angelesand now is registrar for the Los Angelesbranch of National League of PenWomen, and an active member of theSouthern California Woman's Press club.

i to -fiw-tzteuzEach month the Desert Magazine

offers two cash prizes for the bestcamera pictures submitted by ama-teur photographers. The first awardis $5.00 and the second $3.00.

Pictures are limited to desert sub-jects, but there is no restriction asto the residence of the photogra-pher. Entries may include Indianpictures, rock formations, flowersand wild animals, canyons, trees,water holes—in fact anything thatbelongs to the desert country.

Following are the rules govern-ing the photographic contest:

1—Pictures submitted in the Novem-ber contest must be received at theDesert Magazine office by November 20.

2—Not more than four prints maybe submitted by one person in onemonth.

3—Winners will be required to furn-ish either good glossy enlargements orthe original negatives if requested.

4—Prints must be in black and white,2V4X314 or larger, and must be onglossy paper.

Pictures will be returned only whenpostage is enclosed.

For non-prize-winning pictures ac-cepted for publication $1.00 will bepaid for each print.

Winners of the November con-test will be announced and the pic-tures published in the Januarynumber of the magazine. Addressall entries to:

Contest Editor, Desert Maga-zine, El Centro, California.

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 3 9 43

By RANDALL HENDERSON

yyftjfe would like to feel that these pagesIflS will impart to our readers some of the

courage, the tolerance and the friend-liness of the desert — that this issue and everyissue of the Desert Magazine will be like a coolspring of water at the end of a hard day's trek—and that you will go along the desert trail withus and find the journey worth while."

The above paragraph is reprinted from the "Just BetweenYou and Me" page of the Desert Magazine in our first num-ber in November, 1937.

And now we have traveled the desert trail together fortwo years. This is our second birthday number. For our maga-zine staff it has been a fascinating adventure—made doublyenjoyable by the interest and loyalty of our readers.

We have explored the Indian country. We have hiked overbarrancas and up the steep slopes of the desert mountains insearch of hidden springs and colorful gem stones. We haveprospected for gold and rare minerals. We have found ex-quisite beauty in remote canyons—and gorgeous flowers onthe mesas and dunes. More interesting than all else were thefine people we met along the way—the prospectors, traders,homesteaders, scientists, teachers, pioneers, professional menand women—the kind of folks who are more devoted to theart of living healthful, useful lives than the acquiring of ma-terial riches. Such people are the salt of the earth—and it isa constant source of inspiration to the editorial staff of theDesert Magazine to know that we have won the confidenceand friendship of this kind of people.

This month we begin our third year. Our companions ofthe trail—the subscribers and newsstand buyers — have in-creased to nearly 8,000. For the coming year we are planningmany new features. There is no lack of material for such amagazine as this. Interesting manuscripts and rare photo-graphs come in every day's mail. We need more pages—andthey will be added as rapidly as circulation and advertisingrevenue will permit. Believe it or not—the primary goal ofthe Desert Magazine is not the accumulating of gold.

Workmen are now pouring the foundations for a newbuilding for our office and printing plant. The structure ispatterned after the design of the desert's first architects—the

pueblo dwellers of the Southwest. We expect to begin 1940in our new quarters.

* * *

This month the Desert Magazine adds a new departmentfor the "rockhounds"—the gem and mineral collectors andthe rock garden enthusiasts. In December the monthly fea-tures on desert botany will be resumed—with Mary Beal ofDaggett, California, as our staff botanist. As soon as spacewill permit we want to add a special department for the cactusand succulent societies and collectors. There's a big fraternityof them—and their hobby was born in the desert.

* * *

A year ago I suggested that later the Desert Magazinewould add fiction to its contents. I've changed my mindabout that. Or rather, the readers have changed it for me.I have a big file of letters protesting againf* the idea. Ap-parently a very large percentage of our sub: ibers are moreinterested in fact than in fiction—at least as far as the DesertMagazine is concerned. Frankly, that suits me better, too.

* * *

And now I have used nearly a whole page talking aboutthe Desert Magazine and its readers and contributors. Pardonme, if I have talked too much about ourselves—but a birth-day anniversary comes only once a year, you know.

* * *

From New Mexico comes the news that Santa Fe and St.Augustine, Florida, have declared a truce in their long-stand-ing feud as to which city was first in American history.They've decided to call it a draw - - and have exchangedmessages of peace and goodwill. If the blankety-blank histori-ans who started this row in the first place will also sign offwe will have nothing but harmony in the future. There istoo much war going on anyway.

* * *

I was out on the desert Sunday. The rains have worked amiracle. Ocotillo looks like a shaggy bear. I have never seenso many leaves on them—and millions of plants are pokingtheir heads through the sand getting their first glimpse ofsunlight and apparently liking it. With human hatred andgreed engulfing so much of the world it is good to be closeto the soil and wind and the life that goes serenely alongdespite the follies of the human race.

44 The DESERT MAGAZINE