193906 Desert Magazine 1939 June

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THE

M A G A Z N E



Carson's Camp,Bishop, California

Dear Sir:W e had a pleasant trip in your desert coun-

try this spring, and quite a successful o ne. W ewent up to the geode area north of Twenty-nine Palms and found some very good speci-mens. W e also found "ham mer houn ds" hadbeen there before us and destroyed hundredsof fine stones. In some places there were pilesof pulverized rock where there had beengeodes. How can we educate the public todesist from this sort of vandalism? Some peo-ple ought not be allowed to carry a hammerinto the desert.

Although I nearly lost my life in the Mo-jave desert in 1915 I still love it. I spentseveral months there with the late Lou Wes-cott Beck, who was a very dear friend of mine,and who at one time was called "the GoodSamaritan of the Desert." He spent a greatdeal of time and money marking poison waterholes and springs in what at that time was atrackless waste. To my certain knowledge Becksaved the lives of no less than 20 men in thatcountry. His knowledge of the desert wasalmost uncanny. No finer man ever lived, asmany old-timers will tell you.

Thanking you for your kindness to us while

we were in El Centro and wishing you everykind of success with the Desert Magazine, Iam very sincerely

D A D C A R S O N .

Los Angeles, CaliforniaDear Desert Folks:

I am so grateful that the cacti have thornsso that humans cannot wade through themwith their dirty shoes and pull the delicateblooms—and then leave them to wither anddie. Thank you for your wonderful magazine.

B E R T H A C L A Y P O O L C O S S I T T ;

Tucumcari , New MexicoDear Editor:

The poems in the March Desert Magazinewere exquisite. My son went into ecstasiesover the SUNSET poem of Mr. Brininstool 's .It is truly beautiful. But I enjoyed all thepoetry. The little four line verse CLOSE OFDAY conveys a beautiful picture.

Some folks who do not aspire to writepoetry themselves, nevertheless enjoy readingit very much. Poetry speaks to the soul in away that prose cannot. It is the flower ofl i terature.

MRS. S . F . ANDERSON.

Beatty, NevadaDear Sir:

I am a prospector and have had a lot ofexperience hunting up lost people—nine ofthem I think and some of them have beenterrible.

I would like to go and see if I can findEverett Ruess. I certainly could find his lastcamp and might find his remains. I foundHarry Mahoney, the Hollister, California, boyin '27, and Norman D. Carr in '36, lost inForty Mile canyon 45 miles out of Beatty,Nevada .

I was through that Utah country in 1937and would like to get some facts about thecase before starting. I take my own equipmentand travel alone and take my time. If you willtell me where I can get the desired informa-tion, and no one objects, I will go. I think

the 10th of August will be about r ight. Whatmon th was Everett lost in ?I am over in the Panamints prospecting at

present.D E A T H V A L L E Y C U R L Y .

Curly was given the information.— editor.

n

Rankin, Illinois

Dear Mr. Henderson:Since 1935 we have made two trips to the

Pacific coast. While a tourist sees much, hemisses more as "Stopovers" are generally ofshort duration. Your Desert Magazine sup-plies the missing link and makes the West agrand reality.

In the May issue on the "Just Between Youand Me" page I read your suggestion to in-clude the Vallecito and Carrizo desert areasin the new Anza Desert State Park. I amadding my plea also to save this wonderfulwork of nature for your eastern neighbors aswell as future generations of this great coun-try.

As the Wisconsins are very proud of their

Dells, I am making a correction in the inter-esting article "Margaret Lewis—Singer andSilversmith" by Mrs. White Mountain Smith.The Dells and the Winnebago tribe are situ-ated in Wisconsin instead of Minnesota. Hav-ing spent a vacation in that region, we at-tended the Indian Ceremonial dances at theancient Stand Rock amphitheate r. Severaltribes of Indians from the Southwest were inevidence. Margaret Lewis (Laughing Eyes)took a prominent part.

I have a complete file of your wonderfulmagazine and hope to add many more.

MRS. A. C. DROLL.

Dear Sir:

Los Angeles, California

"The flowers that bloom in the Spring, trala" and all that sort of rot, eh what! Springhas already donned her Easter outfit — aglorious — royal garment of gold and pur-ple. When Spring covers the desert's drab,stark nakedness with the luxurious Cinderellacloak, then it 's time to ramble desertward. Itis wise to hurry to get there ahead of others.In fact, it is necessary to go early if the car isto be filled with blossoms.

All desert visitors should tear the plantsup by the roots, because if first-comers don'tothers will; so it 's best to grab while thegrabbing is good. Of course, if the flowers diebefore home is reached, it 's all right.

It 's easy enough to dump them out whenthe paved residential district is reached. Thestreet cleaners can sweep them up. What dopeople pay taxes for anyway?

In the Spring, the sap runs in the plants,and Whoops! the saps run to r ip up the plantsthat spring up in the Spring, tra la.

E D N A P . P A T T E N .

• • •Quito, Ecuador

Dear Sirs:

Being interested to read your useful andinteresting publication, THE DESERT MAG-AZINE, I am addressing you today in orderto request that you please send me, by returnmail a copy of your magazine, for my promptperusal and consideration.

If after reading your publication I see thatI can obtain some information there shall beno delay in sending my subscription order forsome years.

G . A . M O R E N O .

Glendale, CaliforniaDear Mr. Henderson:

As a regular reader of the Desert Magazinesince its first issue may I say that it is themost interesting publication in its field thatwe have seen.

I was much interested to learn through thelast issue of your questions and answers, andalso the list of suggestions mentioned. So mayI as a sincere friend to you and the DesertMagazine express my reaction to one of thesuggestions.

I firmly believe that if you include a fictiondepartment you will adulterate the characterof "De sert, " and waste its charm. As onelooks at the so-called newsstands, displayinghundreds of magazines filled with fiction(trash of all kinds) there is no crying needfor any more of it. For those who want itthe supply seems already unlimited.

The value and appeal of "Desert" is that itcomes like an intimate and personal letterfrom that lovely and truly indefinable thing ofbeauty, awe, grandeur, vastness, peace andquiet which we call the desert.

Your effort and success in collecting andprinting so many fine things for us is deeplyappreciated, so don't enlarge it at the expenseof its character. Such books as "Desert" and

"National Geographic" would soon lose theiridentity if they imitated ordinary publications.

Vandalism defaces the beautiful and pol-lutes the pure. So please keep the DesertMagazine pure.

L . V . M A R T I N .

El Centro, CaliforniaDear Mr. Henderson:

In connection with the evaporative coolingsystem article in the last "Desert," it mightbe of interest to know that the passengertrains in India have for years been cooledthat way.

In the hot weather burlap blinds are letdown outside the windows, with a stream ofwater trickling down on them from the roofof the car. The movement of the train makesan effective "fan ."

Praise for the sustained high standard of"Desert" becomes almost an impertinence—one takes it so for granted now. With bestwishes.

AUBREY M. DRAPER.

Rowood, ArizonaGentlemen:

I am sending you under separate cover somedata on the Papago country. I notice you hada picture of the Ventana. With reference toit being three miles east of the Papago vil-lage of San Miguel. I beg to differ with thestatement in Mr. Jones' letter in your Mayissue.

The Ventana lies about 40 miles northwestof San Miguel. Also, in regard to Bavoquivaripeak—I will give you the definition of thename. Bavac means cliff in the Papago langu-age and quivol means belt—hence the BeltedCliff. You will notice the white streak aroundthe bottom of the cliff, which explains thename.

T H O M A S C H I L D S .

Tucson, ArizonaEditor, Desert Magazine:

I thought I knew my desert pretty well un-til I tried to answer the questions in yourDesert Quiz. I got 11 of them right. Give ussome more of them—it is evident that eventhe old-timers can learn something about theirown country from the Desert Magazine.

D A N M c S T A Y .



D E S E R T

M A Y27-28—Utah State Press associ-

ation meets at Moab with Moab

Lions club ashost.27-28—Closing dates of theannu-

al flower show exhibited eachweekend during May at Julian,California.

27-28—Annual fiesta at Old Al-buquerque, New Mexico.

31 — New M exico state P.E.O.convention begins atRoswell.

JUNE7-10—Junior Fatstock showun-

der auspices Salt Lake chamberof commerce atNorth Salt Lake,Utah.

16-17—District convention ofUtahLions atVernal, Utah.

21 —P alm Springs, California,to vote onquestion of disincor-poration.

24 —San Juan's Day to be ob-served byfestivities at San JuanPueblo, New Mexico.

24-25—Los Angeles Cactus andSucculent show at Manchesterplayground inLos Angeles. Freeto public.

APRIL REPORT FROM U. S. BUREAU

A T P H O E N I X

Temperatures— DegreesMean for month 71.2

Normal forApril 67.0

High on April 22 99.

Low on April 15 44.

Rain— InchesTotal for month 0.17

Normal for April 0.40

W e a t h e r -Days clear 16

Days partly cloudy 10

Days cloudy 4G. K. GREENING, Meteorologist .

FROM YUMA BUREAU

Temperatures— DegreesMean for month 73-8Ncrmal for April 69-5High on April 21 102.Lo w onApril 15 46.

Rain— InchesTotal for month Trace69-year-average for April 0.10

W e a t h e r -Days clear 27Days partly cloudy 3

Days cloudy - 0

Sunshine 97percent (379 hours out of possi-ble 390 hours) .

Colorado river—April discharge at GrandCanyon 1,214,000 acre feet. Discharge atParker 588,000 acre feet. Estimated storageMay 1, behind Boulder dam 21,900,000acre feet.

JAMES H. GORDON, Meteorologist .

V olume 2 JUNE, 1939 Nu mb er 8

COVER SAGUAR O B LOSSOM, Phot ograph by Clai re

and Ralph Proc tor of Phoenix, Arizona .

LETTERS From ther e a d e r s of Desert Magazine , Ins ide cover

CALENDAR June events on thedese r t 1

WEATHER Apri l t empera tures onthe deser t 1

PHOTOGRAPHY Prize winning pic tures inApril 2

INDIANS Sagua ro Ha rves t in P a p a g o l a n dBy RUBY BOWEN 3

GEMS R ai nbow S t ones int he San t a R osasBy JOHN W.HILTON 6

V A G A BO N D With Archaeologis t s atB aske t make r C aveBy EVERETT RUESS 9

CAMERA ART "Feel" of the Desert

Phot ograph byW M . M.PENNINGTON . . . 11

ADVENTURE Up Snow C reek tothe Cai rn onSan JacintoBy RUTH DYAR 12

PHOTOGRAPHY G y p s y W i t h a C a m e r aBy RANDALL HENDERSON 16

LEGEND C anyon Journey

As told toHARRY C.JAMES 17

PRIZES A n n o u n c e m e n t ofphotographic contes t for June . 18

ARTIST Keetsie—Navajo Art istBy ADRIAN HOWARD 19

DEVELOPMENT Dream of a Dese r t Pa rad i seBy TAZE andJESSIE LAMB 22

PUZZLE Desert Quiz—A test of y o u r k n o w l e d g eof theSout hwes t 28

HOBBY Hobbyi s t of S a l o m eBy LOIS ELDER STEINER 29

PROGRESS More Efficient Coolers forthe DesertBy L. G.TANDBERG 32

FICTION Hard Rock Shorty ofDea t h Va l l ey

By LON GARRISON 34

MINING Briefs from the desert region 34CONTRIBUTORS Wri ters of the Desert 35

LANDMARK Prize contest for June 37

N E W S Here and There onthe Desert 38

PLACE NAMES Origin ofn a m e s inthe Southwest 40

BOOKS Curreni reviews 42

POETRY "Me an ' My Burro" and other poems 43

COMMENT 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 at thepost office at El Centro, California, under the Act of March 3, 1879.

Title registered No. 358865 in U. S. Patent Office, and contents copyrighted 1939 bythe Desert Publishing Company. Permission to reproduce contents must be secured fromthe editor in writing. Subscription rate $2.50 per year in U. S. A. or possessions. Single

copy 25 cents. RANDALL HENDERSON, Editor

TAZEWELL H. LAMB, Associate Editor

J. WILSON McKENNEY, Business Manager

Manuscripts and photographs submitted must be accompanied by full return postage.The Desert Magazine assumes no responsibility for damage or loss of manuscripts or photo-graphs although due care will be exercised for their safety. Subscribers should send noticeof change of address to the circulation department by the fifth of the month preceding issue.

J U N E , 1 9 3 9 1



M & u tM any e x c e l l e n t photo-

graphs were submitted in theApril contest and in additionto the prize awards announ-ced on this page, the follow-ing photographers deservespecial mention for their en-tries:

A. Frank Purcell, Prescott,Arizona, "Arizona Palms."

Alfred Schmitz, Los Ange-les, Calif., "Miner's Candle."

Charles A. Brown, Twenty-nine Palms, Calif., "Yucca."

liaiamcuid JlcJze,By HARRY W. DACQUET

710 W. 108th StreetLos Angeles, California

First prize winning photograph in the April contest of the Des-ert Magazine. Picture was taken near sundown at the Rosamonddry lake in Antelope valley, Southern California. Camera was a

Graflex 31/4x41/4, Watten K2 filter, Agfa Triple S Pan film, 1/10second at £32.

Sbaidced.

(Enceliopsis argophylla

var. grandijlora)

By C. L. BOWMAN1026 W. 23rd Street


This picture was awardedsecond prize in the Aprilphotographic contest. It wastaken in Surprise canyonabout half way up to Pana-mint City in the Death Val-ley region of California. Ex-posure was March 21 at10:30 a. m. Taken with a

4x5 Corona View camera,Panchromatic film, no filter,1/10 second at f32.



June is the month when the Papago Indians ofsouthern Arizona, following the tradition of theirtribe, go forth to harvest the luscious red fruitwhici grows on the giant saguaro cactus. RubyBowen, the writer of this unusual story, lives ona homestead near Tucson and has a saguaro"orchard" of her own from which she gathersfruit, in much the same manner as her Papagoneighbors.

Saguato

4 kin Papagoland

By RUBY BOWEN

A

N ancient Papago legend te l l s how Coyotesave d Saguar o for his friends the Desert

Pe opl e : At the First Feast of the Saguar oWine, great dissension and discord broke out

a m o n g the desert birds and anim al s as WineSpirit came among them and they took to fight-ing. As may be se e n , m any of the desert birds'h e a d s are red to this day from thai fighting.

,\ -

Two ribs from a dead saguaroarespliced together andequippedwith a hook with which thePapago woman knocks down theripe

fruit.

Saguar o was not a good thing to

have among them, concludedthe Chief of the Desert Indiansan d he banishe d it as evil fromthe desert. But the P a p a g o sl iked Saguaro and in order to

s a v e him for the Desert People,

wily mischief-loving Coyote cir-c led about and intercepted the

Papago Chieftain's emissarysent to carry Saguaro's seedsforever out of the desert land.Feigning great curiosity as to

w hat the emissary he ld so tight-ly in his h a n d . C o y o t e per-

s u a d e d him to show the s e e d s .With an apparently accidentalflip of his paw. Coyote scatteredthem far and wide. FriendlyWind Man c om ing to Coyote 's

aid carried the cactus seedshigh over the mountains to re-

mote corners of the desert. Thusw a s S a g u a r o s a v e d for all timefor the Desert People.

What the old legend does not tell wasCoyote's possible personal motive forsaving Saguaro. For Coyote has a decidedliking for this cactus fruit. Five o'clockmornings on the Bowen homestead atthe time of year when the Papagos are

going into communal Saguaro camps forthe harvesting of this fruit, I have oftenseen Coyote making the rounds of eachgiant cactus gathering for his breakfastthe luscious, juicy-red "berries" fallenduring the night. Expectantly he circleseach cactus, getting the fruit before Deer,Squirrel, Desert Tortoise, Pack Rat, evenMan himself comes to gather up thissweet desert bounty.

One morning in mid-June, Coyote onhis way to a Saguaro breakfast comesupon a Cactus Forest transformed. Plump,brown-skinned Papagos are everywhere.

Wagons are being unloaded. Camp-firesare crackling. Shelters are being nastilyerected. The vivid pinks, cerises, laven-ders and cherry reds of the squaws' am-ply-cut Mother Hubbards splash the som-ber forest gaily with color. Mystic desert

-Photo by Frasher's.

solitude is broken by the bright laugh-ter and chatter of Indians greeting eachother in the musical Papago tongue.Overall-clad figures in wide-brimmedsombreros belabor the "giants" with longpoles. Others are bringing into camp

buckets brimming with the juicy crimsonfruit. A tantalizing aroma somewhat likethat of ripening strawberries hangs in theair. Everywhere Indians and desert birdsseem to be gorging themselves on theluscious fruit. Curiously, behind a clumpof chaparral Coyote watches. He is a veryold Coyote and knows what this is allabout. His friends the Desert People arecome to harvest Saguaro and celebratetheir New Year as the first fruit of theGiant Cactus ripens upon the Arizonadesert.

In one of the newly-arrived wagons

just unloading is Juan. Juan is a Papagofarmer. All year he tills his desert acresby dry-farming, growing his corn, melonsand beans by wisely conserving and us-ing the rain which Great Spirit sendshim. Annually he comes to harvest Sagua-

J U N E , 1 9 3 9



ro fruit which this Great Spirit of desertland, even in drought and famine, sendshis desert children. Sabastiana, his plumpcheerful wife, is helping him unload thewagon. She is concerned with the safetyof her numerous, various-sized ollas (theequivalent of the white housewife's fruitjars, water pitchers and cooking pots)and her blankets, clothing, supplies, sad-

dles and other camping necessities. ThePapago housewife carries her empty ollas,scoured with desert sand, into the cactusforests. They will go into the wagon forthe homeward journey filled with nutri-tious jams, syrup and preserves alongwith many sacksfull of dried cactus fruit.Numerous brown Indian children, in-cluding a baby, emerge from the wagon,for Juan takes no less pride in his fruit-ful wife than in h is fruitful acres. ThePapago dog has also come along.

No Ladders are Needed

A shelter is quickly erected out ofpoles and native branches and Juan andhis family are soon ready to join otherPapagos in the harvest. Overall-clad Juanin his wide-brimmed sombrero harveststhe giant's berries quite simply. Two ribsof a dead saguaro are spliced together tomake a pole at least 20 feet long to reachthe fruit, and a hook is fastened on theend. A gentle push dislodges the "berry"felling it onto the desert sand.

This much-relished egg-shaped cactusfruit is about two inches across and threeor four inches long. As it matures, thebitter outer husk splits and curls back,exposing the sweet inner pulp. In flavorand color it is somewhere between a ripestrawberry and a luscious red raspberry.It has numerous shiny black seeds witha nut-like flavor. In eating this fruit, theouter husk is discarded. Saguaro fruitgrows on the ends of the arms andon top of the cactus. A saguaro some-times bears as many as 350 fruits, allripening in the course of a month, which

extends the harvest until about the mid-dle of July.

Sabastiana returns with the otherbrown Papago squaws to the camps withtheir gathered fruit to care for the morn-ing's harvest. Saguaro fruit is very perish-able and once gathered must be cookedat once. White housewives might envySabastiana during the preserving season— for there's no standing over a hotstove in a sweltering kitchen for thisdesert Indian housewife. Camping underdesert stars, she simmers her fragrant

freshly-gathered cactus fruit which forcenturies Great Spirit invariably has senther. She preserves it on the spot in hercooking olla over a spicy mesquite wood

Saguaro fruit usually grows near thetip end of the cactus trunk.

fire amid the gaiety and sociability of herfriends and neighbors.

Long and slowly Sabastiana cooks hersyrup, jam and preserves over a desertfire. The Papago housewife never usessugar since Saguaro fruit is so very richin natural fruit sugar as to keep perfectlywithout it. When her fruit has simmeredto a rich mahogany, almost brownishgoodness she stores it in native ollas over

the tops of which she places a covering ofleaves, corn husks, tin, broken potteryor other available material. Then sheseals it air-tight with desert adobe mud,the Papago housewife's paraffin. Thesyrup with seeds removed and boiled toa dark molasses-like consistency is like-wise stored in the ollas. Both preservesand syrup may be purchased at tradingposts on the Papago reservation, butmore syrup than preserves is usually madeby the Indians since there is a consider-able demand for it among themselves.

Sweet Meats for the PapoosesSabastiana also dries many pounds of

Saguaro "berries" for her family. Besidesbeing a delicious sweetmeat for Papagochildren, the dried pulp is an importantingredient of her prized seed cakes. Thedark seeds may be ground on the metateinto a highly nutritious pinole. She savesthe seeds in syrup-making to carry hometo the Papago fowls, along with an addi-tional quantity of the dried fruit for thispurpose since it makes an excellent poul-try food. Much Saguaro fruit is eaten

fresh in the camps while Sabastiana,Rosita, Elnisto, Matildo and other busyIndian women "put down" their yearlysupply of this desert harvest.

The duration of each saguaro campdepends upon the families' liking for thefruit, their thrift or their particular eco-nomic need. Near the Papago reservationat Sells, Arizona, camps often last untilthe end of the season, many families go-ing into the Saguaro forests in woodwagons and living in native "shelters"as their forefathers have done for cen-

turies.Near Tucson, only the poorer families

go out from the Papago reservation atSan Xavier in wood wagons, such campsbeing rather rare. The taking up of whiteman's ways, including automobiles, haschanged the picturesque Saguaro harvestfor these modern Papagos. Since the auto-mobile brings the cactus forest nearenough, they prefer to harvest what theycan in a few hours and return with it totheir homes for the cooking.

Much Work in Preparation

"It is much work," were the first wordsspoken to me by a young, English-speak-ing Papago squaw as we sat in the patioof her home in the shadow of the vener-able old Mission of San Xavier del Bacdiscussing the most approved Papagomethod of making Saguaro jam. Her ob-servation interested me, for as chatelaineof a desert homestead for many years Ihave had much the same reaction to theuse of native desert foods. The desertholds delicious foods for him who wouldseek them; food that sustained life for

those who lived before us here in thelong ago; but in the words of the modernPapago woman, their preparation is"much work. "

I told her I often wished I might makeSaguaro jam as deliciously on my deserthomestead as the Papagos did. W ithsomething of the shyness of the wilddeer in her large dark eyes, she gracious-ly explained a quicker method she haddevised which I shall pass on to otherdesert housewives. She thins the crushedfruit with water to the consistency of any

pulp about to be made into jam. (Sugaris never added.) This pulp is then boiledin a saucepan over a kitchen flame forabout 20 minutes, or until the red juiceturns a brownish color and thickens. Thismodern Papago girl uses small nativeollas for holding her fruit, over whichshe fits tin covers. Over the tops, sheplasters desert adobe—even as her sistersdo in the Saguaro forest. She cautionedme that the fruit should be made airtight.

Do Papago housewives at San Xavier

make much jam and preserves? I wantedto know. "Only a little," she replied, andI gathered that at San Xavier they makedelicacies much as we would put up

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



strawberry preserves or peach jam — be-cmse of a liking for it rather than as ane:onomic need.

This very modern squaw expressed adislike for cooking saguaro pulp in thetraditional Indian cooking olla. If aquantity of preserves were to be made,sne said she much preferred to simmerthem in a new clean wash tub of the

White Man's over an outdoor fire.

As tne Papago, Juan, journeys home-ward tnrough the harvested cactus for-ests with Sabastiana and their family, healso carries with him the important syrupout of which he and other Papagos willmake the very potent ceremonial Saguarowine (Tisirin) which is drunk at theSaguaro wine festival (Navaita) duringwhich prayers for rain and for a favor-able harvest are offered to the gods. Thisceremonial takes place at the Papago res-ervation at Sells at the end of the Saguaro

harvest and is the object of an annualpilgrimage by Papagos from all oveisouthern Arizona. In making the cere-monial wine, the syrup is diluted withwater, the mixing being done with thehands in a certain traditional manner.Dancing takes place for two days andtwo nights, after which the wine is readyfor consumption and the rain prayers aresaid.

Wine for Ceremonials

The making and drinking of Saguaro

wine i:. an innate part of the Papagos'rain ceremonial. Tradition says that theSaguaro was created when Elder Brotherplanted beads of his own perspiration—symbolic of honest toil—in the desertsand. When the Saguaro bore fruit, ElderBrother mixed the juice of this fruit with

Harvesting Saguaro and making cactus

itself. In

ruit. The Indians were in-

U N E , 1 9 3 9

Typical Papago woman with olla.

second day of wine-drinking, the moun-tains began to wobble and shake. ThePapagos were advised by the four wisemen to drink more of the potent Saguarowine and dance harder. This they did andon the third day the mountains beganto move. By the fourth day, they hadmoved over the desired distance. ThePapagos were pleased, the legend says,because with such a nice wide valley theyenvisioned themselves raising truly boun-tiful crops. But Wind Man and CloudMan who lived on Baboquivari peak

were very definitely no t pleased, sincethey would be expected to travel farther.Resentful, they refused to carry waterany further than they had before themountains moved. And so the Papagos

—Photo by Al Buehman.

with their additional desert acres were nobetter off than before.

Does Great Spirit always answer Papa-go rain prayers and send refreshing mois-ture to his Desert People? Sometimes —and then, again, perhaps not. But comewhat may, two teachings of Great Spiritthe Papago closely observes: First, thatit is good to work for what you have.And second, moderation — that it maynot be good to have too much of a goodthing. The Papago makes Saguaro wineand celebrates his wine festival each year.

But knowing that "Wine Spirit comesquickly," he lives and advocates a life oftemperance which goes far toward mak-ing him the sober respected Indian he istoday.



V

C* ARLY Spaniards called them piedras pintas—these/ painted stones of the desert with their sunset hues

and intricate designs. Yankee settlers later referred

to them as "pinto stones," "rainbow stones," or "those prettycolored rocks," according to degree of imagination.Mineralogists and collectors today seem to find it more

difficult than their unscientific predecessors to agree upon aname for this lovely oddity of the mineral world. It has beenclassified at various times as clay stone, chalcedized clay, jas-per, chert, argillite, argillaceous chert and opalite, by variousauthorities.

The fact is that several of these names might well be cor-rect, for in reality this material is not a distinct mineral, buta series of allied minerals which vary in chemical composi-tion, hardness and texture. Some of the samples are nothingmore than solidified clay and have a very low hardness. Othershave a distinct opaline texture, or approach agate in hard-

ness and grain.Since there seems to be no scientific name that can be ap-

plied to this mineral without clashing with some of the au-thorities, I shall refer to it by what I consider its most de-scriptive common name, the "Rainbow Stone."

It is not the purpose of this article to discuss all the deep-ly involved chemistry of this series of minerals, but ratherto call attention to the beauty and possibilities of the harderand more compact specimens for gem and decorative pur-poses.

The deposit I am describing for readers of the DesertMagazine this month is one of the largest and least commonoccurrences of this rock in the desert, yet it is very accessi-ble to collectors.

Traveling south along U. S. Highway 99 in Southern Cali-fornia it is apparent to those who know anything of geologythat the Santa Rosa mountains were uplifted through the sedi-mentaries of the Borrego badlands, and in so doing tilted up

There seems to be some difference of opinionamong the scientific men as to the proper name forthis deser t rock—but an y w ay it m ake s a pre t tygem s tone when cut and pol i shed, and it-is in oneof the most accessible areas in Southern Califor-nia. Here is John Hilton's story of his most recentfind while combing the hi l ls in search of new gemstone material . Dr. S. O. Coolidge, who accom-panied Hil ton on the trip described in this art icle,is shown in the picture.

Rainbow £ tones

in the

SantaBy JOHN W. HILTON

at a rather sharp angle at the point of contact. The contrastof granite and limestone at the southeastern tip of the SantaRosas against the tawny colored clays of the badlands is acolorful feature of the landscape at this point.

Approaching along the highway from the south, as onereaches the vicinity of Truckhaven an irregu lar patch of off-colored foreign material is plainly visible near the base ofthe mountain, conspicuous because of its contrast with theshading of the slopes around it.

Motoring south on Highway 99, the most conspicuouslandmark as one approaches this area is Travertine Point—or Indian Head rock. The latter name is derived from thesimilarity of the profile on one of the huge boulders on thenorth side of the point to the figure on one of Uncle Sam'snickels. This figure is best seen at sunset when the rock faceis silhouetted against the sky.

Travertine point is formed of a confused jungle of boul-ders coated with porous limestone deposits from the watersof the ancient sea which once surrounded it and left onlythe peak protruding as a tiny island.

South from Travertine point along the base of the SantaRosa mountains is plainly visible today the shoreline of theprehistoric body of water. Early visitors in this area assumed

this waterline had been left by the salt waters of the Gulf ofCalifornia which extended inland to this point at some timein the distant past. It seems more likely that the markingseen today was deposited during the period when the clearwaters of Lake Cahuilla occupied this region—perhaps 700years ago.

Travertine is not the true name for the deposits found onthe rocks here. The material is calcareous tufa. This mineralis deposited in practically the same way as travertine, but thetufa remains porous while travertine becomes impregnatedwith crystallized limestone which gives it a more compactconstruction.

Algae and water moss along the shore, the same as otherplants, breathe in carbon dioxide and give off oxygen. This

action tends to make the carbonates of lime in the waterabout them less soluble, and produces a fine coating of lime-stone on the surface of the moss. As this layer thickens themoss is killed and another generation grows on the surface—and the cycle is repeated. Thus a very porous coating of




This type of coating is in process

Another factor which enters into the

Those interested in the collecting of

itself. Those species range from

iown to tiny specimens which can be

To reach the Rainbow stone area, takethe old state highway paving south ofTravertine point to Coolidge springs.Several small caves are to be found near

the base of the Santa Rosas west of thehighway at this point. Dr . and Mrs. S.O. Coolidge, who own the springs, toldme that there is evidence that caves wereoccupied by the Indians at some time.

Just south of the springs the visitor tothe Rainbow stone region leaves thepaved road and follows the windingcourse of an arroyo. Dr. C oolidge went

along with me as guide on my trip to thisarea. The trail is rough and sandy andunless the visitor is accustomed to desertdriving and has no objection to a fewscratches on the car, I would recommendthat the automobile be left at the pavedroad and the trip completed on foot. Thehiking distance is less than three miles,and after all, physical exercise is one ofthe most valuable by-products of the gemcollecting hobby. There are many inter-esting things to be observed along theold sea shore for those who make the tripon foot.

In any event it is a good idea for visi-tors to inquire at Coolidge springs aboutthe condition of the road before under-taking a motor trip up the arroyo. Ittakes only one desert cloudburst to com-pletely change the character of an arroyosuch as the one that leads to the Rainbowstones.

About a mile up the wash a low mesawith a steep bank borders the road. Anhour or two spent on this mesa is worth

the trouble for those who are interestedin ancient Indian life. Study of the mesadiscloses many cleared circles surroundedby single rows of rocks — probably thedwelling sites of ancient tribesmen. Frag-ments of broken pottery and chips ofagate and chert may be seen in the sand.One large boulder near the bank of thewash contains grinding holes — where

prehistoric Indian women crushed mes-quite beans and other seeds while themen were fishing and hunting.

Archaeologists already have screenedthis field for artifacts. Among the bonesfound in the charcoal of ancient fireswere the vertebrae of large fish, evident-ly of the carp family. Other bones wereidentified as those of rabbits and rodents—and a few large ones of deer or moun-tain sheep. Arrowheads found here indi-cated that the men were not the "mightyhun ter" type. The stone points weresmall and not capable of inflicting a mor-

tal wound in any animal of large size.Just below the village site along the

old shore line is a series of pool-shapedcavities in the rocks—probably used asfish traps by the ancients. These traps areon several levels—made necessary by thechanging surface level of the lake as itwas fed at irregular intervals from theColorado river.

The Indians today have a legend whichexplains the operation of these traps.

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J U N E , 1 9 3 9





WithGave,

In July, 1934, just four months before his mysterious disappearance inthe Utah desert wi lderness , Everett Ruess joined a group of archaeolo-gists from the University of California who were making excavationsnear Kayenta, Arizona. He was cook and general uti lity man for theparty, but found time to continue his art work. Following is a letter hewrote to his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Christopher G. Ruess of Los Angeles,on July 22:

By EVERETT RUESS

Dear Mother and Father:At present I am in a cave below the

rim of Skeleton Mesa, Arizona, lookingout over the canyons of the DegoshoBoko. This cave is in the Navajo sand-stone a few feet under the rim. Aboutthree hundred feet below, and some 80feet back under, is Twin Caves cliffdwelling, but this cave is far more inter-esting. The culture here goes back to the

first cuarter of the Christian era, andpresents many involved problems.

I have been in this locality about twoweeks, working with the archaeologicalexpedition. With me in the cave are an

archaeologist, his assistant, and a pho-tographer who also digs. Below in thecanyon are ornithologists, entomologists,botanists, zoologists, geologists and thelike, each with plenty of problems un-solved.

We have been in the cave for fourdays now. There is a very precarious waydown the face of the cliff with footholds

in stone, hundreds of years old. The onlyother way is the horse ladder, six milesup the canyon. We came that way withpack burros, passing the carcass of a horsethat slipped. After two days wanderingon the mesa top, in trackless forests, we

Everett Ruess (left) and Rando lph]enks were photographed by TadNichols as they tried to maneuver 9

the burro Pegasus into a truck . Thisheretofore unpublished picture was

sent to the Desert Magazine by thephotographer after Everett's letterdescribing this episode was pub-lished in our April number. Nich-ols' letter accompanying the picture,which gives some new sidelights onthe burro incident, is printed on thefollowing page.

crossed the bare rock ledges in a heavycloudburst and came here.

We have found twelve burials here,with two fairly well preserved mummies.One mystery lies in the fact that all of theskeletons are headless, though there aresome lower jaws. Evidently the graveswere robbed — perhaps by the Pueblopeople, but it is a difficult problem to as-certain the facts. There are traces ofBasket Maker III and Pueblo I and IIon the surface.

The Basket Makers are the oldest peo-ple who have been definitely traced backin the Southwest. They used the atlatlor throwing stick, and had corn. Potterywas first invented by the Pueblo I, andthe bow came into use. Later beans and

squash were used, and the turkey do-mesticated. In Pueblo II, pottery of afiner grade with different design typesand color was used.

Twin Caves below is Pueblo III, witha further advance. In the whole Tsagi

J U N E , 1 9 3 9



drainage there is no Pueblo IV. All thecliff dwellers were driven off by theeighteen-year drought that began in1290.

I have been doing the packing andcooking here. Clayborn Lockett, the ar-chaeologist in charge here, is a grizzledyoung chap of twenty-eight, widely ex-perienced, and a magnificent humorist.He is an ethnologist and something of an

artist as well. His two helpers are boysof 19 and 20 from the University atBerkeley. We have great fun up here byourselves, discovering something newevery day, and looking out over every-thing from our sheltered cave.

I am working on a black-and-white ofmy outfit, wheeling about on the floorof Canyon del Muerto, under loomingshadowy cliffs, at dusk.

Love from Everett.

LETTER FROM TAD NICHOLS

Rt. 2, Box 194Tucson, Ariz.

To Desert Magazine Editor:In the April issue of the Desert Mag-

azine I was much interested to read theletter by Everett Ruess. Randolph Jenksand I were the "two boys" he mentionswho loaded his burro on a truck and tookhim to Flagstaff. The enclosed photo wastaken on that day in June, 1931.

Jenks and I were returning from atrip to Lees Ferry Bridge. About fivemiles north of Cameron, while bumping

along the old road, we came upon a boyand a burro, slowly moving over thewhite, glaring sand. It was hot and dustythat day, and we stopped and asked theboy if he would like a drink. He musthave thought at first that we were askingfor water, for he started to unlash one ofhis two canteens from the side of theburro. He had very little water, but wasimmediately willing to share it withothers.

After gratefully drinking from ourcanteen, the boy talked to us, and wesoon learned his name was Everett. Hehad been on a walking trip all throughthe Del Muerto and De Chelly canyons,a region we had always wanted to see.By plying him with questions, we learnedof the many cliff dwellings he had seen,and of his precarious climbs to some highisolated ones.

"I know that many of the cliff houseswhich I reached," said Everett, "mustnever have been visited before by whitemen. In one I found a cradleboard inperfect condition, together with manypieces of fine cloth."

We became much interested in Everettand his stories, and before long he pro-duced some paintings which he had madeduring his De Chelly trip. One watercolor, that of the White House Ruin,

was exceptionally good, and Jenks offeredto purchase it, asking Everett the pricehe received for his work. I remember hisreply: "Well, a day laborer gets aboutfifty cents an hour, and it must havetaken me about three hours to do thepainting!"

Everett looked a little hot and tired, sowe decided to take him up to our ranch,situated at 8000 feet on the side of theSan Francisco peaks. At first we feared,after unsuccessful pulling and pushing,that we would not be able to get theburro into the back of the pick-up truck.Finally we backed the Ford up againstthe embankment of Highway 89, whichat that time was just being graded. Withthe road on a level with the floor of thetruck, we were able to lead the burroaboard. We tied him with ropes hookedto the sides of the truck, and roped ourbedrolls and camping outfit to the roofof the cab. The three of us, together withCurly, then piled into the car, and startedthe last 60 miles into town. It must have

been a comical sight to see us arrive inFlagstaff that evening.

After one night at Mesa Ranch SchoolCamp, we took Everett to DeerwaterRanch, where he remained for severaldays, working on paintings of the Aspentrees. As I remember, he then left forthe Grand Canyon, and I heard no moreof his whereabouts until I saw a noticein the paper that he was lost in Utah.

Everett had a true love of the desert, anenthusiasm for remote, lonely, and inac-cessible canyons, which to him were themost fascinating.

Sincerely yours,TAD NICHOLS.

Copies oj the September 1938 is-sue oj the Desert M agazine con-taining Hugh Lacy's story oj themysterious disappeara nce oj E ver-ett Ru ess in 1934, may be obtainedby sending 25 cents to the DesertMagazine ojjice, El Centro, Calij.

SIDEWINDER SAM —By M. E. Brady

"No, that ain't me rattling— it's that du de's teeth chatterin'!"

10 T h e D E S E R T



reel ok

tLrr

POISE

Photo by

WM. M. PENNINGTON

By JOHN STEWART MacCLARY

11 / OULD you care to compete with this Zuni{/]/ woman for a grade on erectness of posture?

Well, if in middle age you could not remember aday when you had not climbed a smooth-runged lad-der with a big jar of water balanced on top of yourhead, you would be as nonchalant as she in taking forgranted mankind's blessing as a creature designed tostand erect.

The costume of this woman greatly resembles instyle the garments described by observant conquista-dores in the sixteenth century, but there is a great dif-ference in the materials. Instead of garments of inex-

J U N E , 1 9 3 9

pensive machine made cotton cloth, similar apparel oftanned deerskin and hand woven Hopi cotton wasworn by Zuni women in Coronado's time. There wereno silver bracelets and necklaces in the fabulous"cities of gold," but there were eardrops and pendantsof highly treasured turquoise. The spiral wrap leggingsand the ladders were the same—but the windows wereslabs of mica.

How does she balanc e the big jar of water? Adoughnut shaped pad of plaited yucca fiber compen-sates for the difference between cranial curves andflat jar bottom.

11



Few mountaineers have ever reached the10,805-foot summit of San Jacinto peak by the pre-cipitous route which leads up Snow creek fromthe floor of the desert on the north side. So far asthe records show, Ruth Dyar of the Sierra Clubof California is one of the few women who haveever made this climb. Here is her own story of theascent, a beautifully written version of a thrillingadventure. You'll have a better understanding ofthe urge that prompts men and women to climb

difficult peaks for the mere sport of it after youhave read this narrative.

U p S >

to the

now

on .San Qacinto

Ruth Dyar packed her own sleeping bag and food on the

climb to the summit of San Jacinto

r HE Rock Climbing Section of theSierra Club is filled with vaguelegends of treks up Snow creek

— how the climb takes from 12 to 27hours; how one youth went to sleep atthe top with a piece of cheese he waseating hanging out of his mouth; howanother, bivouacking before a fire sunkfour feet in the snow, after the climb oneJanuary, ran 20 feet in his sleep beforehe woke up; how tired people become,how cold it is, what beatings they take.

But eventually, being rock climbers, theygaily make the climb again.

"Old Timers" staunchly assert that thesheer, rugged, trail-less north face of SanJacinto is unclimbable. Notoriously, it isone of the longest climbs in the UnitedStates, second only to Telescope peak onthe Death Valley side for gain in ele-vation.

San Jac's 10,805-foot peak floats mist-ily lavender, scored perpendicularly withdeep canyons, from Riverside county des-ert about 120 miles southeast of Los An-geles. Up its forested southern slopes,which rise gradually from dry foothills,a pleasant nine-mile trail leads to thepeak, starting at Idyllwild, at about5,000 feet elevation. The northern side

of the mountain drops abruptly to thedesert near Palm Springs, almost 9,000feet of precipitous, barren slopes, rockyand fierce. Above the 7,000-foot eleva-tion grows scattered timber, below arebrush and rocks. Across the brown, dryvalley to the north, more mountains rise,in bare, eroded undulations, to the11,485-foot peak of San Gorgonio.

Snow creek drains the northeast face ofSan Jacinto, dashing down a sharply-cut, wild, granite-walled canyon, over

sheer falls and tumultuously heapedboulders, out into the wide white washthat meanders down the desert valley.From the desert, the eye can trace thecourse of Snow creek. Its gray canyonrises up and up, through wild, rugged,brushy mountains. Far away and high up,it spreads out into two flat, gray, almostperpendicular channels that score the up-per ridges of the peak.

I wanted to make the climb, not be-cause it sounded particularly pleasant, butfrom the mountaineer's unqualified butself-sufficient desire to climb something.

I wanted to find out just what this al-most legendary Snow creek was like.Originally our party was to be com-

posed of four RCS climbers, two ofwhom had ascended the creek before. At

By RUTH DYAR

the last moment, however, the two moreexperienced members of the party couldnot make the trip. So Friday afternoon,November 11, George Templeton Jr.,from Fontana, and I found ourselvesalone at the mouth of Snow creek. Wewere fairly new at this business of moun-taineering, but with the sound apprentice-ship of one season of group climbing be-hind us, we were filled with the singledesire to reach the peak.

A dirt road leads from the desert, a

short distance up the canyon, to thefence that cuts off the watershed. Wewere absolutely alone with the desert ex-cept for our cardboard boxes of commis-sary, our rolls and rucksacks of gear, anda coil of climbing rope. We looked at theragged clouds tearing across the far bleakskyline above us, and thinking how coldwe would be next day we shivered. Snowcreek rose boldly in an ominous graystreak.

At five in the evening it was com-pletely dark. I had forgotten how abrupt-ly the California winter night falls out-

of-doors. Huddling over a cheering littleblaze in the great darkness, we ate stewand milk. At six p.m. I dived into mysleeping-bag, which was unrolled behinda boulder, under a live-oak tree, on a

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



»rass-browned knoll. The wind roared,

We had considered starting the climbit four a.m., two hours before daylight,

milk, and rolled up our packs. We were;lad in the customary rock climber's uni-form of leather-patched overalls, plaid

shirts and high-topped crepe-soled tennisshoes. A debated point among SouthernCalifornia climbers is whether it is bestto carry a sleeping bag up Snow creek orto go light — and cold. Roped to a lightpack-frame were my five-pound compact-ly rolled goose-down sleeping-bag withits balloon-silk cover; my quart canteen;a meager array of edibles stuffed into alittle canvas sack; and several little tied-on rolls of parkas, mittens, and like arcticgarb. The pack weighed 8 or 10 pounds.George was equipped with a little knap-sack and a blanket.

We climbed over the barbed-wirefence at seven o'clock and started upthrough brush and rocks. It was fun tobe pioneering our own way, without any-one along who had been there before.We moved quietly, usually a little dis-tance apart, talking but little, in lowtones, each minding his own businessand enjoying himself in his own way.Each might have been alone. Thus onecan er.joy the mountains best.

Throughout the day, the refrain of ayodelling song kept running through myhead, something about "And I climbed

so high . . . till I reached the sky . . . "Through the cold still early-morning

air we picked our way. The lower partof the canyon was choked with yellowingtrees, and we climbed up a brushy, rockyridge to the left, a flattish mesa on top,along which ran a little path that goeswe knew not where. We trudged alongit, across the plateau covered with ripegrass, mesquite and red rocks. After anhour or two, the path turned sharply tothe left. We deserted it to clamber downthe rocky canyonside to the bed of Snowcreek.

Then the real climb began. With thepath, we left every man-made mark andwere alone with the mountain. We foundourselves in one of those rare blessedplaces, in these days of roads, good trailsand C. C. C. improvements, where not asingle scrap of gum paper or cigarettestub or sardine can reduces mountains tothe petty messiness of man.

Our muscles were now limber andlight, freed of the fatigue which leadensthem the first few hours of a climb. Noneof the way was difficult so far as technical

rock climbing goes. We went unroped.It was, in the main, what is popularlyknown as a "grind."

The gorge of the creek was heaped andjammed with boulders. The canyon wallstowered over us as they bounded upward

in slabby granite to brush-grown, tangled,rock-strewn, rugged mountain countryalong the ridges. The mountain about uswas vast. We were unimportant specksmoving among huge boulders in the bot-tom of the chasm.

As we climbed we paused occasionallyto catch our breath, and to pore profes-sionally over the quadrangle map whose

contour lines were alarmingly close to-gether in our locality, but which toldnothing that wasn't laid out before our

eyes in immense detail. In what lookedon the map like five miles horizontally,the creek rose nearly two miles in ele-vation. Steadily, with a distance-eatingrhythm, we climbed over huge bouldersand coarse talus. The crepe soles of ourtennis shoes clung remarkably, by fric-tion, to the water-polished gradients ofgood gray granite.

The creek bed went up, and up, andup . Interminably we took step after step,great steps and small steps, like climb-

Dotted line show s the route followed by Ruth Dyar and Georg e Temp-leton, J r., in their ascent of San Jacinto. When they m ade the climb,last Armistice Day, there was less snow on the mountain than at the

time this picture tvas taken.

J U N E , 1 9 3 9 13



ing an insanely irregular staircase, overblock after block of rock. The streamdropped over sheer falls, bounded alongdebris-choked channels, rolled undersnarls of rock. In most cases we couldclimb around the unassailable falls attheir broken edges. Once we had to leavethe canyon entirely, and laboriously bush-whack along the ridge above a series of

abrupt falls. We lost time and patienceas we jerked our packs through the ma-levolent brush.

The sun didn't appear till after eightin the morning, and its meek Novemberrays scarcely penetrated the deeply-gashed north-facing canyon. It was ratherdiscouraging to see the sun set at 10a. m., rise again feebly and briefly, anddisappear behind the craggy far-off sum-mit for the final time at noon. Yet allday we could see it shining warmly inthe desert valley, casting beautiful topo-graphic shadows on all the erosion pat-

terns of the opposite range, which drop-ped and widened and spread in brown-ish-purple and red hues beneath us.

The air was cold. I knew it was coldby the stiffness of my face, and my lowerjaw, and by how chilled we became theinstant we paused to rest. But climbinghour after hour, up a 45-degree slope,stepping perpetually up and up unevenlyheaped and ill-assorted boulders or inch-ing up steep broken faces, carrying a packwhich however light chafes the shouldersand pulls one off balance and makes theneck ache—such climbing warms one up.We weren't cold.

An Adventure in SolitudeAs a matter of fact, the whole thing

didn't seem at the time like much of anundertaking. In the mountains it is nat-ural to accept things as they come, light-heartedly and with a trace of amusementat alleged hardships. One forgets almostas if they had never existed the trivia ofordinary existence. Lightly I climbed,breathing deeply, often pausing to lookall about me, enjoying the exhilaratingair, the physical exertion, the adventure

of it, the quiet that was so deep I couldlisten to it, the mountains and rocks andice.

The creek was frozen tight all the wayup . There were the most wonderful iceformations. Many of them were DeathValley-like, grotesque. At first there wereragged glass-like crusts of clear ice alongliving water. Later, the whole canyon wassilent and dead and gray, with no motionor sound in the stream. The creek pouredover rock faces in ice-falls 30 and 40 feethigh. It bubbled up in knobby sheets ofclear ice, or odious white bulbs of frost.

There were icicles like leaves, with stems,icicles like electric light globes, iciclesstalagmitic and stalactitic, and plainicicles suspended from eaves of rock.George thought ice handholds were

warmer than the rocks, but I cast myvote in favor of rock.

Among the dead rock and ice, therewere a few fuzzy purple flowers and scar-let-buglers, their leaves and blossomsblack and limp with cold. An occasionalgolden willow foamed up against the dullmountainside. A rich bed of ferns spreadbrightly green under a gigantic, black-

stained chock stone. We were utterly re-mote, in time and being, in thought anddesire, from everything but Snow creek.

Sardines for LunchWe rested once and ate sardines and

rye-crisp for lunch. We were hungrierthan we had expected. On long strenuousclimbs, especially in high altitudes, onerarely wants much to eat, and in fact can-not climb on a full stomach. I gnawedtough dried apricots most of the way up,enjoying their tang.

In mid-afternoon, we came to a place

where the creek gushed out of a moun-tainous pile of rocks and dirt like aspring, apparently our last water. Wefilled our canteens and climbed on, upthe more and more abrupt, boulder-choked canyon, now quite dry. No longercould we see our course before us to thesky. We hadn't any idea how far it wasto the top. We knew, as we had knownall day, that we couldn't possibly reachthe summit by night-fall. As it grew late,we worked our way up on the ridge, awilderness of rocks, and wind-warpedgolden-trunked tamarack pines. We cher-

ished and planned and discussed thenumbered minutes left before dark. Wedecided to bivouac until the moon rose.

Half an hour before dark I grew terri-bly weary. The ridge was as rocky as thecreek bed. My legs were so tired withlifting me up and up rock steps. Myshoulders ached. By this time, we werefighting the breathlessness of high alti-tudes, as well as weariness and cold andendless stepping up rocks, and not know-ing how far we had to go. Most placesone goes, one climbs, and climbs, andnight comes on, and one reaches his des-

tination. Not so Snow creek! I was sud-denly quite appalled at where I had comeentirely under my own power — andnothing on earth would get me out butmy own power, either.

But even as a person is so constitutedthat when he is physically comfortable,he can't remember with any vividnesswhat it is like to be cold or hungry orin pain, so, as soon as I sat down on arock to catch my breath, and the tired-ness flowed out of my muscles, my goodspirits rushed back. If peop le weren'tmade like that, I suppose mountainswould remain unclimbed.

A broad band of deep pink crossed thenorthern sky. At 5:15, just as darknessdropped swiftly and completely over us,

we walked into the only camp spot onthe whole north face of San Jacinto, sofar as I could see. There were actuallyflat places — the first we had seen allday — commodious flat places covereddeeply with dry, elastic pine-needles;huge angular blocks of granite piledabout and above us to cut off any wind;tall trees silhouetted against the deep-

blue, starry night sky; funds of firewood.George built one of his admirable one-match fires, and we drooped over it ina stupor, limbering up our hands swollenwith the cold. We were in that extremeof exhaustion where one is quite contentto sit in an uncomfortable position ratherthan make the supreme effort necessary tomove a hand or straighten out a crampedleg or neck, where one would almostrather see the fire go out than exert him-self to lay on a convenient stick of wood.

I don't know how cold it was. It wascold in such a quiet, insidious way thatwe hardly noticed it. There wasn't a hintof wind, it was frostlessly dry. Yet theviolent tumultuous creek had been frozensolid, thousands of feet below, at mid-day. The previous night, air-pilots in thepass had estimated two above zero onthe peak. The canteen beside the fire wasice-filled. The tea-bag not two feet fromthe flames was frozen to the rock thatsupposedly was reflecting what heat wehad.

Finally we worked up enough energyto heat some of our meager supply of

water, and frugally, appreciatively, wesipped boiling hot bullion, and hot cupsof delicious, heavily-sweetened tea, andsavored my can of corned-beef hash,salty and moist and good.

George Huddles by FireThen I crawled into the sleeping-bag

I had carried so far, and under a greatsloping wedge of granite went to sleep.It was so warm and comfortable there, sobeautiful and silent and remote! The fire-light flickered rosily on the rocks aboutme, and I could look up between hugeangles of granite to the sky. Turned onmy other side, I could see the deep glowof the campfire, and the trees against thestars beyond. I felt only mildly guiltyabout George, who huddled by the firewrapped in his auto-robe, and occasion-ally remarked morosely, "Ruth! Ruth!We've got to be moving!" Next morninghe confessed he wasn't really cold, butmerely worried about being cold. I sleptsoundly, and when I wasn't asleep, pre-tended to be, so George wouldn't try tomake me get up.

At 2:20 a. m. I emerged reluctantly

from my bag. What an hour to rise! Iput on my shoes and hurriedly ate thescorched remains of the hash. We strug-gled into all the sweaters, scarfs, jackets,headgear and mittens we had left off be-

14 T h e D E S E R T M A



fore, and started to climb. The r:half-moon shone in the black sky with afierce white brilliance that did not dimthe stars.

We looked tremendously funny in themoonlight as we prowled out of camp.George had a huge red bandanna overhis head sheik-fashion, with a gaudilystriped stocking-cap over that, and a

long untucked-in shirt billowing abouthis hips. I was wearing my ski jacket,parka hood gathered about my face fromeyebrows to chin, and mittens. Our packshumped on our backs. In soundless tennisshoes, without saying a word or makinga sound as we moved, each nursing afaint stomachache, we climbed softlythrough the woods.

The' woods were marvelous in themoonlight, bright and shadowy, the dis-tances between the dim tree-trunks in-viting us on. The rocks gleamed white aswe stepped easily over their sloping

sides. Below, with a nearness that slight-ly jarred the senses after we had climbedfor 20 hours, were scattered the orangelights of the desert valley. Beyond laythe mountain ranges in the moonlight,and around us the trees, black and stiff,and the rocks, white and shining.

We were subtly pleased that we couldchart our course by the Great Dipper. Itwas so cold we couldn't breathe deeply— it hurt our lungs and made us breath-less — so we moved very slowly so as notto get winded. Neither of us had any ideahow far off the summit was. We esti-

mated, with profound conservatism, thatwe had about four hours more of climb-ing.

In the moonlight before us rose aslight hump composed of great slabs ofgranite, heaped up one on the other. Un-able to detour it easily either to thenorth or the south, we clambered over it.And suddenly, astoundingly, at 4:20 a.m.we we:re on San Jacinto peak! What onefirst thinks is the Top never, never is, asevery climber knows. Yet here, hoursbefore we even hoped for it, and we soweary, we were on the peak, shouting

exultantly over the wrought-iron SierraClub register in the starlight.

We didn't bother to sign the register.Suddenly energized, we flitted down tothe little plateau below the summit, peer-ing among the moon shadows for thesmall hut that awaits wayfarers like us.It was a small stone building, with twodouble-deck wooden bunks that archi-tecturally resembled a college sleeping-porch. We built a fire in the deep stonefireplace. George rolled up in his blanketon the bunk nearest the fire. I slippedinto my sleeping-bag, and ate three pieces

of rye-crisp. Despite the irritating con-

Gevrge Templeton Jr., of Fontana,California, who accompa nied Miss

Dyar on the San ]acinto climb.

agged tours of the wooden slats, I slept sound-

y

The sun poured in the eastern windowwhen I awoke a few minutes before sev-en, feeling rested and good. Having onlya meager swallow or two of water left,we couldn't make the tea that would havetasted so good. Despite the trials of thelast 24 hours, we suddenly found our-

selves sitting on the edge of the bunkbefore the dying fire, discussing in ananimated way the Santa Susanna Flakeclimb at Stony Point!

Rolling and roping up our packs forthe final time, we started the nine-milehike down the south side. There was a

holiday spirit in our blood — we hadclimbed Snow creek. It was a gloriousmorning. The air was cold, and still,and dry and clear, and immensely vital-izing. We were quite ringed with moun-tains and desert that flowed and throb-bed with early-morning blue. Way offto the southeast, in Imperial Valley laythe Salton sea, a great mass of pale gold,so intensely, moltenly, blazingly goldthat it seemed to float above the blueplain, detached from the landscape andunreal.

At 8:30, ravenous, we sat cross-legged

{Continued on page 41)

J U N E , 1 9 3 9 15



This unusual cloud and lighting effect was photographed by George Barrett during o ne of h is desert trips.

with a Game/u *By RANDALL HENDERSON

EORGE E. BARRETT wanted apicture of the famous Cliff Palacein the Mesa Verde national monu-

ment in southwestern Colorado.Thousands, perhaps hundreds of

thousands, of snapshots have been takenof the old Indian cliff dwelling. ButBarrett wanted something more than anordinary snapshot. And so he campedat the monument for two weeks andhiked down the trail to the canyon everyday to study the highlights and shadows

as they played around the prehistoricwalls under different positions of the sun.In the end he got one of the finest

panoramas of this ruin that has ever beendisplayed. And this is just one of manyhundreds of fine pictures he has securedover a period of several years spent ingypsying over the western part of theUnited States.

Barrett has two points of advantageover a majority of photographers. In thefirst place he is a former aviation chiefmachinist's mate in the navy—now onretired pay. And that gives him unlimited

time to play around with his hobby. Hissecond important asset is that he lovesphotography and is endowed with thepatience necessary to secure good pic-tures. Any expert photographer knowsthat 99 out of every 100 camera shots

16

are mediocre, or worse, because the av-erage person never takes the trouble andtime to study the lighting, contrast, com-position and the other factors which gointo the making of good pictures.

The home of the Barretts, George andFrances, is at La Mesa, California, butthey are home so seldom it is almost im-possible to reach them by letter. Most ofthe time they are somewhere on desert

Sometimes George Barrett goes pic-ture hunting w ith a burro.

or mountain, living in a trailer-car, seek-ing unusual pictures of well known land-marks, or searching out remote landscapesnever before photographed.

George Barrett does not depend en-tirely on highways to obtain his pictures.Sometimes he will travel 10 or 12 milesin a day on foot, lugging a heavy camera,just to secure two or three good nega-tives. When a pack burro is available hemay go off for two or three days at atime to reach his objective.

The result is a collection of manyhundreds of fine photographic prints cov-ering practically the entire west. Mrs.Barrett has her own hobby which fitsperfectly with her husband's pastime. Shehas developed her own special processfor tinting the pictures. Together theBarretts have produced some large pho-tographic panoramas which carry all thedelicate coloring of the most exquisitelandscape.

Barrett has two simple rules whichwill interest all photographers. One isthat when he goes to the desert to takepictures he allows just half the time ex-posure required elsewhere. The other isnever to try to take in too much field ina single picture. Focus the lens on spe-cific objects—preferably one at a time.

"There's no greater sport in the worldthan picture-hunting" says George, "andthe constant effort to make every shot alittle more perfect than the last onemakes each photograph a new adven-ture."




Thousands of Americans have seen the HopiSnake Dance. Yet no white man fully understandsthe import of this weird ceremonial — nor likelyever will. Nor does the ancient Hopi legend ex-plaining the origin of this mysterious ritual castan y light on the subject. But it is an interestingfairy tale nevertheless. Here is the story as it wastold by one of the old chiefs of Oraibi.

anuon QoutneuLegend of the Snake Dance

As told to HARRY C. JAMES

Illustration by G. A. RANDALL

• I ALIKSAI! In the olden days the grandfathers of the

II people of the Snake clan lived across the Grand Can-1I yon along the great high rim. The son of the Chief

was a young man, but old in wisdom. He often sat on therim of the canyon and wondered whither the great river wenow call the Colorado, flowed. None of the wise old men ofthe tribe knew. Many strange beliefs concerning it were heldby the people. Some said that it flowed down through darkcaverns to the very center of the earth and that its waterswere peopled with strange monsters.

One day the young man went to his father, the Chief, say-ing: "Father, I believe it is my mission to journey down thegreat river of the canyon. I must go and explore it. I cannever rest until I have done so."

Seeing the look of earnest determination on the face of his

son, the Chief gave consent.Realizing that his journey would be a perilous one, theyoung man took many days to prepare for it. With the helpof others he constructed a strong boat. The only openingsinto it were so fixed that he could close them completely ifit became necessary to do so. He cut and fashioned a longpole to push the boat along, and on the end of the pole oneof the old chiefs tied a Hopi prayer stick, called by us a bahos.

When the time came for him to depart, many of the peo-ple of the tribe gathered at the shore of the river to see himleave. He took a goodly supply of food and just before hecast off, three old priests presented him with many babosto insure the success of his trip.

Day after day, he floated down the stream. Many times

he was tossed by rapids. Many times he plunged into darkand gloomy caverns. On several occasions huge rocks fellinto the river, close by him. But through all these dangers hepassed safely. At last he passed out of the dim canyons intoi wide sunlit valley. He continued through this a great dis-:ance until the waters became salty to his taste. Finally, aheadof him stretched nothing but water. He had reached the greatocean of the west.

His boat drifted against an island. Here he found the houseof Spider Woman. The opening into the house was so small:hat at first he could not enter. He called to her: "I want:o come in, but the opening is too small!"

"Make it bigger," she called back.He enlarged the opening and entered the house. After pre-

senting her with a bahos, he told of his long and perilouslourney. "Now," he said, "I must take back something thatwill be of help to my people."

Spider Woman pointed to another house across the waterand told the young man that in it were some magic beads —pieces of coral — which he should take. But she warned him

[ U N E , 1 9 3 9 17



that there were dangerous animals guarding the trail to thistreasure.

Seeing the young man's courage, Spider Woman decidedto help him, so she gave him some magic liquid which hethrew out over the waters. Immediately it made a rainbowtrail across to the other house. Spider Woman jumped uponthe young man's ear and together they started across therainbow path.

Hardly had they started when they met a huge mountain

lion that growled fiercely as they approached. The youngman threw a green bahos to the lion and sprinkled some ofthe Spider Woman's magic liquid on the creature. Immediate-ly it became quiet and they were allowed to pass. Farther onthey came upon a bear, then a wild cat, then a wolf andfina lly a rattlesnake , all of which they pacified in the samemanner.

When they arrived at the house they found it to be alarge rectangular building with a ladder down through theroof, the sort of building Hopis call a kiva—a ceremonialchamber. The young man, with Spider Woman still ridingon his ear, descended the ladder into the kiva and there theyfound a large number of men wearing blue kilts and sittingaround the sides of the room. Around their necks they wore

many beads and their faces were painted.Visitors Given Pipe of Friendship

The young man sat down by the fireplace. No one spokefor a long time. The men all looked at him. Finally theChief arose and filled a pipe with tobacco and lit it. Hesmoked four times, then handed the pipe to the young man,telling him to smoke a certain way. The latter did so, andthe chiefs and the other men were surprised to find that heknew the magic way to smoke. They welcomed him to theirkiva, saying: "Your heart is strong and good. You are oneof us. Welcome!"

The young man presented them with green bahos withred points and some sacred eagle feathers prepared by theold chiefs of his own tribe.

On the walls of the kiva were hanging many costumes allmade of the skins of great snakes. The Chief said to theothers: "Let us dress up now."

They turned the young man around so that he could notwatch them as they put on their magic costumes. When theyturned him back again, he found that all the men had turnedinto snakes. They were huge rattlesnakes and little snakes ofvarious colors and they were moving about on the floor —hissing, rattling and making a mighty noise!

Spider Woman whispered to him: "Be brave! They aregoing to test you. Be not afraid of the snatces. They will notharm you. Do as I tell you."

The snakes had by their magic turned a very beautifulyoung maid into a yellow rattlesnake. They told the young

man that he must select her out of all the snakes in the kiva.And if he were wise enough to do this they would teach himtheir magic and give him many beads and coral.

The young man gazed on all the snakes, but he could notin any way determine which might be the maiden. He wasabout to give up when Spider Woman whispered: "Thereshe is. That yellow rattlesnake!"

The instant he named the yellow rattlesnake it changedinto the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. At once heknew she was to be his wife.

That night the chiefs taught the young man all abouttheir snake religion, their dances, their songs and told himhow they made their altar and their costumes.

The next day they made a rainbow path back to the houseof the old woman of the western sea who is the guardianof all hard things. The young man gave her a bahos and inreturn she presented him a turquoise bead from a room inthe north side of her house, a white shell bead from an eastern

room, a reddish bead from a southern room and anotherturquoise bead from a western room. Then she put into asmall sack all kinds of beads for him to take home, butshe made him promise not to open the sack until he gotthere.

After leaving the room of the old woman of the westernsea, the young man returned to the Snake people. When heclimbed down the ladder into the kiva, the Chief said: "Youhave won our friendship and the love of my daughter. Takeher with you as your wife and return to your people. "

Then he gave the young man fine clothes and much foodfor his journey back.

The two were very happy on their long trip overlandback to the home of the young man, but every morning theywere astounded to find that their bag of beads increased inweight. Finally, it was so heavy that they could hardly carryit. The young man wanted to look inside for he was verycurious. His wife cautioned him against doing so, but hefelt strong and defied her and opened the sack.

There were hundreds of beads. The young man was de-lighted. He put strings of them around his neck. He playedwith them through his fingers. But in the morning theyfound that all the beads had disappeared except the original

ones given him by the old woman of the western sea. Thatis why the Hopis now have so few beads.

At last the young man and his wife reached home safely.They were happy and had many children to whom theytaught the ceremony of the Snake people, thus starting theSnake clan which exists among the Hopi Indians to this dayand whose people every summer offer the Snake Dance as aprayer for rain.

t o .

A m at & u A .

Each month the Desert Magazine offers two cashprizes for the best camera pictures submitted by ama-teur photographers. The first award is $5.00 and thesecond $3.00.

Pictures are limited to desert subjects, but there isno restriction as to the residence of the photographer.Entries may include Indian pictures, rock formations,flowers and wild animals, canyons, trees, water holes—in fact anything that belongs to the desert country.

Following are the rules governing the photographiccontest:

1—Pictures submitted in the June contest must bereceived at the Desert Magazine office by June 20.

2—Not more than four prints may be submitted byone person in one month.

3—Winners will be required to furnish either goodglossy enlargements or the original negatives if re-quested.

4—Prints must be in black and white, 2Vix3Vi orlarger, and must be on glossy paper.

5—Pictures will be returned only when postage isenclosed.

For non-prize-winning pictures accepted for pub-lication $1.00 will be paid for each print.

Winners of the June contest will be announced andthe pictures published in the August number of the

magazine. Address all entries to:CONTEST EDITOR,DESERT MAGAZINE,EL CENTRO, CALIFORNIA.




Charles Keetsie Shirley in his studio at Fort Defiance, Arizona.— Photo by Milton Snow

Keetlle- N A V A J O ARTIST

Too frail to take part in the rugged Indian gamesplayed by his boyhood companions in Canyonde Chelly, Keetsie amused himself by drawingpictures of animals on the rocks with soft coloredshale which he found in the cliffs. Today the workof this young Navajo artist is hanging in someof the best known galleries in the United States.Here is the story of an Indian lad you'll like—both for what he has done and what he is.

By ADRIAN HOWARD

^i l EA was being served to a very se-g lect group in the gloomy Art

Gallery of Tavern Club in NewYork City. With withering words aspeaker was tearing all glamour from themost recent Pulitzer Prize winner. Leftfar in the backwash while Art with acapital letter suffered, I wandered alongthe walls inspecting the works of famous

artists. Heavy Flemish beauties lookeddown from their tarnished gilt frames.A Reynolds and a Corot hung side byside, all rivalry long forgotten. Underthe soft rays of a concealed light was asimple water color. Like the cool clean

breath of the desert it pictured, thissketch of a sage covered Navajo plaincarried me far away from the artificialsetting in which the picture and I foundourselves. In the picture a Navajo riderdrove other horses before him. I thoughtto myself, "Whoever painted those horsesknows and loves Indian ponies." Tuckedaway modestly in a corner was the name

of the artist: "Keetsie."Again and again I ran across the workof this mysterious artist. In a famous artgallery in Washington hung a picture ofsheep being driven to their home corral,and one of a comely Navajo woman

weaving a rug. In the Indian Room ofMarshall Field in Chicago his pen andink sketches of Navajo life were featured.Back in Arizona I entered the lounge ofthe club house at Window Rock and, likeold friends welcoming me, I found pic-tures of the Fire Dance and Canyon deChelly and half a dozen other scenes ofthe beautifully wild Land of the Navajo.

"Who is this Keetsie, and where ishe?" I asked and was led into an adjoin-ing room.

Bending with painstaking care overhis drawing table the serious youngNavajo drew a hair line wriggling creek,

J U N E , 1 9 3 9 19



and swiftly sketched a mountain rangeon the cartograph of the Navajo reser-vation.

"This is Keetsie who made the picturesyou've been seeing." The map-makersmiled a swift boyish greeting. Only hisshining black hair and the great darkIndian eyes gave a clue to his race as hestood there, clothed in a polo shirt andflannels.

Thirty-three years ago, high in theCanyon de Chelly country where Wash-ington pass breaks its way through themountains this Navajo was born, the lastof a frail mother's six children. Not longafter his birth the mother died and ac-cording to Navajo custom the hogan wasdeserted and left to evil spirits. There isalways a home for motherless childrenamong the Navajos, and the baby, strap-ped tightly to his cradle board, was car-ried across the hills to the home of hisaunt. Here he grew up with her ownbrood. Deprived of his mother's careand fed too soon on mutton ribs andgreen corn he failed to make muchgrowth and among her own husky off-spring he was called "Keetsie," the smallone. White people probably would havedubbed him "Runt"! He trailed the big-ger, stronger children as they herded thesheep, and while the others played tagand the active games of childhood hewas always busily engaged in makingpictures of sheep and horses on the darkstones, using soft colored shale he dugfrom ledges in the cliffs. Sometimes hevaried the program and with a firm wet

sand modeled these familiar animals.Once he watched a horned toad baskingin the sun and with eager fingers hepiled and patted the red sand into a per-fect image of the reptile. An old Medi-cine Man happened by and was fright-ened and indignant at such sacrilege. Hedestroyed the picture and in a few daysSingers gathered together under a bigjuniper shelter to hold a ceremony of ap-peasement to the spirit of the hornedtoad the lad had pictured.

Spartan Sports for Boys

Each morning the uncle, or Keetsie'sfather who had married again and builta new hogan just over the hill, lined thebig boys up for their race toward theeast. Keetsie was required to run justhalf as far as the older ones, but he wasnever left out of this hardening practice.And in winter time he was rolled lustilyin the snow to make him tough andstrong. Childhood passed swiftly andhappily, but when the three older sistersand the big boys went to Fort Defianceto school Keetsie longed to go withthem. He fully agreed with the overlord

of that district, Chee Dodge, who re-marked one day: "This boy is old enoughto be in school. He should go!" Whenthe children were taken back to the

Typical Navajo Indian

Sketch by Keetsie.

fort, 30 miles from his home, Keetsieproudly went along. School at last!

He was seven years old then, and hadnever seen white people nor been in awhite man's house. What a change forthe Indian boy!

Ran Away From School

"I knew not a word of what they said,and I was not allowed to speak Navajo,not even to the other children in theroom with me. Everything was so strange,the food, the clothing, the beds, the

schoolroom seats — everything. I stillremember how I suffered when they tookmy own soft buckskin moccasins awayand poked my feet into big stiff shoes.And I was nearly always hungry. Inthose days they did not feed the Indianchildren like they do now. We had cornbread and strong molasses and beans,but never quite enough to fill us com-pletely up. I was lonely and I wasscared at night. I wanted more than any-thing in the world to bury my nose inthe warm sheepskins on the floor of myaunt's hogan." He was seeing again the

frightened little Navajo, and I turnedaway from the look in his eyes. "Well,I didn't like school and I ran away fromthere. I left in the night time and I hur-ried along toward my home 30 milesaway. It took me three days to get thereand I was pretty tired and hungry, andwhen I got home nobody would speakto me. They just acted like I wasn'tthere!"

The boy's father was wise and eachtime Keetsie ran away he took him on ahorse behind him and rode back acrossthe mountains to the school. And then,

while his companions played the run-away was kept in bed as punishment.The penalty lost its sting if he couldmanage to smuggle some paper and a

pencil into his solitary confinement. Hespent the hours drawing.

The last time he ran away from FortDefiance, he no more than reached homebefore his father started back with him.Dumping him safely in the school yard,the father went to the trading post togossip and do a little trading, and thenrode leisurely homew ard. About tenmiles from Washington pass he cameover a hill and saw a small ploddingfigure. Keetsie was on his way to thehome hogan once more. The father tookhim home and not a word was exchangedby any member of the family. Nex tmorning the father rode back to theschool and Keetsie walked! That time hestayed. But, because he was prone torun away and take others with him, theschool authorities decided to put quitea distance between him and home. Theysent him to Haskell Indian School inKansas.

For several years Keetsie really stuck toschool and tried to learn the things theytaught there. He never gave up his draw-ing and painting and usually his pocketswere jingling with small coin derivedfrom the sale of his Navajo pictures. Butone summer day the call of his ownmountains was too strong: "I seemed tosmell the cedar smoke, and I wanted tobe galloping through the sage on myown horse, so I went down to the freightyard and found myself a place in anempty freight car along with two or threedozen hobos on their way to the wheat

fields in Kansas. Two Pima boys wentwith me. Now and then we'd drop offthe train and work in the harvest a fewdays, until we were no longer hungryand had a few dollars ahead. Then we'dcatch another freight and get a littlecloser to Arizona. When we got to Albu-querque I wrote my father that I wasthere and he sent me some money tocome on home, but I decided to go upto Denver with the other boys and seewhat was up there.

Return to Reservation

"W e got work w ith a sugar company inthe beet fields, and I drove a truck be-cause I had learned how in Haskell.When fall was in the air I went back tomy father, and then I was really happy.I rode after the cattle and sheep all daylong, and my father treated me like Iwas a man. It was a great life while itwas warm enough to bathe in the scat-tered pools of water and sleep under thepines. But winter came, and we workedall day in snow and cold winds, and thenwent home to a hogan full of Navajos.

"The food didn't taste like it did when

I was a little boy and I couldn't sleepwith a dozen others on a dirt floor withsheepskins. When I wanted a bath I hadto go into a sweat hogan and I nearly




smothered myself. I knew my father wasalways watching me and I tried to seemto like everything. One day he said tome:

" 'Son, you see w hat is the life of aNavajo. You see how we eat and live andall there is to being here where you wereborn. If this is the sort of life you wantI will get you a wife and you must build

a hogan of your own and have sheep andcattle and horses of your own.'

"I was startled. I didn't know anygirls around there and if I had it would-n't have mattered. My father and thepeople of a girl thought suitable wouldhave settled the matter. And I knew allat once that I didn't want to live therealways and be just a Navajo. It didn'ttake me long to be on my way to schoolagain. This time I went to Albuquerqueand I enrolled in a class learning to beauto mechanics."

I looked at his slender artistic hands,

and tried to visualize them covered withgrease and calluses.

He grinned. "I liked the work and Iwas a good mechanic. I didn't tell themthere that I hadn't had any eighth gradework and I was started right in highschool. I surely had to study, but by thattime I knew the only salvation for any In-dian boy or girl is to learn what whitepeople know. So I kept on working andstudying.

"The art teacher there was very goodand he kept telling me that any boy,white or Indian could mend automobilesbut not one in a thousand would draw ahorse running in the wind like I could.He sold the sketches I made and helpedme every way he could. If the stageneeded a new curtain or there was anyfancy painting to do I always got thejob. I think I made about $125 sellinglittle pictures of the things in Navajoland while I was there.

"When I graduated and got my diplo-

ma as an auto mechanic I headed rightfor the sugar company in Colorado againand they gave me a job driving a truck.I kept that job for two years and I keptthe money I earned, too, because all thattime the superintendent of the companykept telling me I should go to art schooland do something with the talent I hadfor drawing and painting.

"At last he called in the woman whohas charge of the Denver Post art workand she told me to enroll in the art de-partment of the Denver university.When times were hard and all singlemen were laid off I took my money andentered the university. With 40 or 50white students I learned Art with a capi-tal letter! I learned how many bones arein a horse and what muscles make himmove around; I learned about line andcolor and perspective and backgroundand foreground. So many of the things

{Continued on page 31)

The Return after a Day's Herd" — By Keetsie

J U N E , 1 9 3 9 21



Dr. Oliver M eredith Woz encrajt. Photo courtesy Auto Club of Southern California.

By TAZE and JESSIE LAMB

" 1 1 /H I L E the Canon of West"

IA S minster, Beecher, Ingersoll"* and other small fry are active-

ly engaged in annihilation of an imagi-

nary hell, and that, too, without creatinga better place for the deserving trans-gressor, you perceive that I am quite asintent on the practical work of removingan actual infernal region and at the same

time creating a field which may becomea paradise by man's agency."

This was Dr. Oliver Meredith Wozen-craft's concept of the project he launchedalmost a hundred years ago to reclaim theColorado desert of Southern California.He called it "the Sahara of America."In 1849 when he first crossed this be-low sealevel, sun-parched wasteland be-

When Dr. Oliver Wozencraftfirst crossed the Southern Cali-fornia desert in 1849 he nearlyperished in the sand dunes westof the Colorado river. The water-less trail across what is now theImperial Valley exacted so higha toll in human lives the Mexi-

cans called it La Jornada de laMuerte—the Journey of Death.But the dynamic doctor, un-daunted by his own fearful ex-perience, envisioned in the Sal-ton basin a great desert agricul-tural empire, reclaimed by thewaters of the Colorado river.Men scoffed at the idea and con-gress refused to sanction the pro-ject. But today a hundredthousand Americans are livingin health and happiness on the

desert Dr. Wozencraft sought toreclaim . Here is pub lished forthe first time an authentic recordof the life and tragedy of Imper-ial Valley's No. 1 pioneer.

tween the Colorado river and the coastrange of mountains it was uninhabited.Today it is peopled by 100,000 residents.Its thriving cities and its rich farmingcommunities are supplied with life-giv-

ing water by an irrigation system de-veloped half a century later in uncannydetail just as this dreamer and fighterfirst envisioned it.

He wanted the federal government togrant to him title to 16,000 square milesof land on which he hoped to realize hisdream of an earthly paradise — and hevery nearly got it.

The ink is faded now on the pageswritten by the doctor's hand nearly acentury ago. But the words have cap-tured and hold the spirit of the man,gone these 52 years to another paradise

in which he firmly believed.He was 35 years old when he ferried

over the Colorado in a "bull-boat" madeof oxhide, and his restless feet, destinedto wander to far parts of the world be-fore their wanderings were forever stop-ped, first touched California soil.

Behind him in sleepy New Orleans hehad left a gentle wife, Lemiza Ann,daughter of Col. William R. Ramsey ofNashville, Tennessee, and three smallchildren, William, 11; Oliver, jr., 5, andHenry Clay, a baby two years old.

W anderlus t was in his blood. Hisfather apparently not only was a roamer,but failed to tell his family where histravels led. Oliver was a lad 11 years oldwhen his mother received the following




etter, unique among death announce-ents :"Mrs. Hannah Wozencraft,Cincinnati, Ohio."Dear Madam: The enclosed hasjust come to hand, published in anAugusta paper and from the nameand description of the person I haveevery reason to believe the gentle-man deceased was your husband.

Deeming it my duty to give you theearliest information of his death Ihave hastily enclosed the obituarynotice. I shall inform his brother ofhis death the first time I see him.

"Yours with respect,H. W. SCOVELL."

If the widow swooned in the fashionof the period, events prove that she ral-lied from the shock, to devote herselfwith determination and success to pre-paring her children for life's responsibili-ties. She sent young Oliver to St. Joseph'scollege at Bardtown, Kentucky. She sawthat he completed his medical course.And she helped him to start in the prac-tice of his profession at Nashville.

There, it may be that the young phy-sician found in the career of ageing An-

drew Jackson, his neighbor, added in-spiration for his inherited desire to seekadventure and glory in change and onnew frontiers. Perhaps "Old Hickory's"New Orleans exploits and the lure ofthe deep South led D r. Wozencraft downthe Mississippi to the fascinating city atits mouth. In any event, after the charm-ing daughter of Colonel Ramsey hadpresented him with two bouncing boys,

the second born in 1844, the doctor tookpassage with his wife and babies on aluxuriously appointed river packet, set uphis home in New Orleans and hung outa gold-lettered sign: "O. M. WOZEN-CRAFT, M. D."

By 1848, when cholera ravaged thecity, the doctor had won an establishedpractice. His courage and his skill, aswell as his willingness to serve sufferinghumanity were all put to the test in thisepidemic. City officials asked him to takecharge of the care of the indigent in his

part of New Orleans and he accepted thisthankless duty.

Working night and day among thepanic-stricken, sick and dying residentsof pestilential slums, his own healthbroke. To recuperate, he went away. At

Brownsville, Texas, on the Rio Grande,instead of finding rest, he ran into themost malignant epidemic of choleraknown in its history. Because he was toofeeble then to justify the risk of this newcontact with the disease, the doctorcrossed the river to Matamoras, Mexico.

The people of Brownsville learned thathe was there. A delegation of citizensbegged him "in the name of humanityto aid us in our great affliction." Theytold him that all who had been attackedhad died and that the resident physicianhad fled.

This was a challenge he could not ig-nore. Recrossing the Rio Grande to theAmerican side, he found, as he later toldthe story, "two physicians, one quiteyoung, the other venerable in age andhonorable in the service of the UnitedStates Army, Surgeon Jarvis. The youngman only remained to turn over to meanother dying patient and then fled. I

saw him no more. But the kind olddoctor, after witnessing the result of asimple prescription I had found effectivein New Orleans, and after observing myenfeebled condition, offered to assist me.He confirmed the statement that all pa-

Boundaries of the 10,000,000-acre grant of land which Dr. Woz encraft sought from congress are indicated by the heavy blacklines on the accomp anying map sketch. It will be noted that the visionary doctor included some of the moun tain areas as

well as all the desert region of Southern California.

S-,, A N

S A N

D I E G O

E '"- X \V«>A /- CffiiiltL

J U N E , 1 9 3 9 23



tients had died up to that time. Therewere no more deaths, among all I treated,the joyful news spread that a doctor hadarrived who could cure cholera, the panicwas over, the fight was won."

The Mexican war was ended; thetreaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo gave Cali-fornia to the United States; gold hadbeen found on the American river andfrom all over the globe a rising tide of

adventurers was surging to the new Gol-conda. A man of Wozencraft's abilitieswould not find his best opportunity foradvancement in digging for gold, butthere would be many other chances forfame and fortune. A new state must beorganized, a vast region of incalculableriches must be developed as a part ofthe Union.

W hy no t go west? Wo zencraft's friendsin Louisiana and in Tennessee wouldhelp, through their connections at Wash-ington.

It didn't take Dr. Wozencraft long to

make his decision. It took longer to makehis arrangements. Not until months laterwas he able to reach his goal, after cross-ing the continent on mule back.

It was late in May of 1849 when hisplodding mule brought him to the eastbank of the Colorado at Fort Yuma. Ear-ly spring floods had swollen the riveruntil it was running bankfull, a tawnytorrent pouring on to the gulf of Cali-fornia. West of the river heat wavesshimmered over a sandy desert.

"Journey of Death"He was one of a hundred thousand

men who braved the 100 miles of blister-ing sands along the "Jornada de la Muer-t e " that year, on their gold-fevered rushto the California mines. Among hispapers, he left his impressions of thatfirst experience in "the most formidabledesert on the American continent."

"Crossing the river in an improvisedboat made of ox-hide, we encounteredthe desert. Starting in the evening, takinga trail which soon led us into sand drifts,we were three days, or nights, crossingthe desert. The heat was so intense onthe last day two of the men failed. I gotoff my mule to assist them, but foundmyself unable to assist them or myself."

Then he described his symptoms:

"I felt no distress whatever. I was per-spiring freely and was as limber andhelpless as a wet rag. It was an exhilarat-ing and happy feeling. I couldn't climbon my mule again. And there I mighthave stayed, but one of my companionsreached the border of the desert andwater, filled a bag with water and footedit back eight miles.

"Soon after I finished this crossing I

learned that a large stream of water wasflowing into the desert. The river hadoverflowed its banks. Professor Blakefound by barometric survey that the des-

ORIGINAL SOURCESFor the historical data presented in

the accompanying story of Dr. Wozen-craft the Desert Magazine is indebtedto the following sources: Allen Clarkof Wash ington, D. C , Phi l D. Swingof Imperial Valley and San Diego, Sup-ervisor John A ndreson, Jr., and M rs.Grace Eleanor Harworth of San Ber-nardino, Supervisor Hugh Osborne ofImperial county, San Bernardino countylibrary where several original manu-scripts in Dr. Wozencraft 's handwrit-ing are preserved, and to John StevenMcGroarty's History of Southern Cali-fornia and John Brown's History ofSan Bernardino county.

ert was lower than the ocean and South-ern Pacific surveyors seeking a route tothe Pacific reported that the area in oneplace was 272 feet below sea level.

"My experience with the desert wassufficiently impressive to cause me to

wish that others might not experience thesame, and after learning that waterflow ed into it from the river at unusualseasons it very naturally occurred to methat it could be made to do so at alltimes. As it proved a great temporaryblessing, it might be made a permanento n e . The work I proposed was to irri-gate those lands from the river and thusbring them into cultivation."

So runs the genesis of Imperial andCoachella Valleys. An unpeopled landthat produced nothing then, now shipsa carload of farm products annually for

each of its 100,000 people. Today, if notan earthly paradise, at least it deservesits title, "America's Winter Garden."From an unending cycle of harvests,some crop goes to the world's marketsevery day in the year.

The world's biggest irrigation canalfollows a course Dr. Wozencraft plotted90 years before it was dug.

At the time of the doctor's arrival inSan Francisco, California was a No-Ma n's land. Mexico had relinquishedcontrol. There was no civil government.In fact, except for Gen. Bennett Riley,

the United States military commander,there was no government at all.

Helps Draft ConstitutionThis condition, however, did not long

continue. Within four months after thedoctor's California debut, he was selectedas one of 28 delegates entrusted withframing a constitution for the embryonicstate. The constitutional convention metat Monterey on September 1, 1849, andin December a governor, other state offi-cers and members of the first legislaturewere elected. History knows it as "thelegislature of a thousand drinks."

Delegate Wozencraft and his fellowsof the constitutional convention votedthemselves $25. per diem as compensa-tion for their labors and $25. per mile for

travel expenses. W hen their work wasdone they were hosts to the citizens ofMonterey at a grand ball, gay with thecolorful costumes of old Spain and theresplendent dress uniforms of the UnitedStates Army and Navy.

States are notoriously poor paymastersfor those who sweat in public service.Dr. Wozencraft couldn't collect his wagesfor helping to write California's consti-

tution, and the bill has never been paidto this day. But if a measure pending inthe 1939 legislature as these lines arewritten becomes law, the descendants ofthose 28 delegates to the constitutionalconvention of 1849 will be authorizedto sue the commonwealth for the amountto which their ancestors laid claim.

The Monterey convention offered op-portunities the doctor did not overlook.He had a rare combination of attractivequalities. His professional manner gavehim amiable dignity. He was graced withthe courtly courtesy of the South. His wit

was quick and spontaneous. He was astrong character. He found congenialsouls among these builders of the newempire whose shores ran 1,000 milesalong the edge of the broad Pacific.

Indians were an immediate concern

when California was admitted into theUnion in September 1850, after a year'swait on the doorsteps of the federal capi-t o l . One of the first acts of Congress wasto create a commission — "to conciliatethe good feelings of the Indians and toget them to ratify these feelings by enter-ing into written treaties."

Indians Defend LandsDr. Wozencraft was appointed Indian

Commissioner, authorized to spend fiftythousand dollars.

Before the comm ission took the fieldthe Indians were at war with the fastencroaching whites. The governor calledout battalions for the camp aign. Thecommander of the Pacific division of thearmy sent "all of his disposable forces,"to accompany the commissioners.

Near Mt. Shasta, Commissioner Woz-encraft found in the bushes on a hillside

a tiny Indian baby girl, abandoned byits mother as she fled with her tribe.

In the meantime, Mrs. Wozencraft andher babies—another was born before sheleft New Orleans—had made the longhard trip by stage coach and mule backto San Francisco.

The doctor must have his little joke.From his camp at the front in the Indianwars he wrote to his wife, "I am sendingyou a little present." The present was theIndian baby, which was received intothe family, and named Shasta. She wasfaithful to her white foster-parents until

her death many years later in San Ber-nardino.The Indian hostilities were brought

to a close, the doctor reported, "by sim-




This p hotograph of the W ozen craft home in San Bernardino in 1882, shows left toright: M iss Laura Riley, Mrs. Oliver M. Woz encraft, the doctor's wife; "Shasta," theIndian wo man found when a baby in the mountains and sent to Mrs. Woz encraft as'a little present"; Miss Minnie Riley, now M rs. Jo hn Andreson, jr. of San Bernardino.

ply p ursuing a h umane , pacific policy. 'He spent more than Congress gave him.Instead of $50,000, he made contractsaggregating "some $376,000 ." In waror peace, his style was magnificent.

When the treaties he proposed werekilled and critics at home and in Wash-ington assailed the commission, he hitback hard.

"Under my plan," he declared, "theIndians were to receive a limited andspecified amount of food, clothing, stock,seeds, agricultural implements, etc., forthe limited space of two years, afterwhich time they would be required tosupport: themselves."

This sounds like a Baja Californiaagrarian plan of the modern school.

Then he lashed out at the politicianshe blamed for his troubles.

"The plan now practiced," he said,'is to make annual appropriations, suf-ficient not only for the Indians but fornumerous employees. Appropriationshave been made ad libitum and I pre-

sume they will be continued ad infinitum.They will be continued so long as thereis an Indian to be fed or a politician whov/ants a. place."

And this sounds like a crystal-gazer's

criticism of the New Deal relief pro-gram, A. D. 1939-

There were dictators in the seats ofauthority in the doctor's day, too. Hefired this shot at them: "Centralization ofpolitical power has well nigh reachedthat point which caused our fathers todeclare their independence."

Three Indian wars: the Mariposa, theEldorado and a campaign in the lowerpart of the state, he added in his defense,

were brought to successful end by hisefforts.

In 1857 he was still rankling at theinjustice of his enemies, writing piecesto the papers, citing records to show hehad been exonerated from all blame inconnection with charges against the com-mission.

All this time he had been drivingahead with his scheme for turning theColorado river into the desert. In 1852he sent his family to San Bernardino,where they occupied a two-story adobe

house. Here the family lived until thelast of them was taken through its doorsto the sunny slope of the nearby ceme-tery.

The Wozencraft home was a pleasant

place. There, under sheltering palms andwide spreading cottonwoods and in a bigflower garden, the children and the In-dian baby played and grew to manhoodand womanhood.

The doctor himself was seen infre-quently in San Bernardino. In additionto his own plan for development of thedesert, he was busy with matters of na-tional importance. He toured the coun-try, urging state legislatures to work for

the proposed railroad to link east andwest coasts. In his native Ohio he toldthe solons that he had cherished sincechildhood the memory of Ohio's greatrivers and majestic mountains, only tofind on his return that passage of yearsand his travels had made the riversshrink to mere trickles and the moun-tains to insignificant hills!

His friend former governor Wellerhad gone on to Washington to the Sen-ate. From there Weller wrote to ask thedoctor's advice on the question of moun-

tain passes suited for the railroad's en-trance to California. Wozencraft repliedpromptly. He recommended a FeatherRiver route, and then added quaintly,"The caloric engine, methinks, will have

: U N E , 1 9 3 9 25



to be brought into requisition on any ofthe routes indicated."

As to the telegraph, he told Wellerthe Indians must be conciliated or theywould destroy the line.

At the state capital his persistenceovercame all obstacles. On Ap ril 16,1 8 5 9 , nearly ten years after the mirageof a desert paradise first floated beforehis eyes, the legislature passed his bill( N o . 28 4), entitled, "An Act to en-courage the supply of fresh water on theDesert, west of Fort Yuma."

Virtually it was a deed from the state.California "ceded, granted and conveyedto Dr. Oliver Meredith Wozencraft" allits interests in lands "beginning at theinitial point of the San Bernardino baseline, and running east on said line to theColorado River; thence down said riveralong the boundary of the state line to itsjunction with the southern boundary ofthe state; thence west along said southernboundary to the eastern base of the main

range of mountains; thence northerly,along the base of said range of mountainsto the place of beginning."

This includes about ten million acres.By resolution the legislature called on

its congressional delegation to work forenactment granting to the state all feder-al rights in this area. In order for thedoctor to get his title clear, the state saidthe national government must act withinthree years. In return, Dr. Wozencraftagreed to build irrigation canals and todeliver water to the desert area from theColorado river.

With the California act in his pocket,high hopes in his heart, Dr. Wozencraftwent to W ashing ton. There for threeyears he labored with fixed tenacity ofpurpose. He paid the expenses of varioussupporting groups of advocates. He col-lected letters from army officers, engi-neers, government officials-from anybodywho could add a voice in endorsement ofhis great project.

Civil War Interferes

In the midst of his struggle with aCongress preoccupied with preparations

for war, guns thudded at Fort Sumter onApril 12, 1861 and the nation plungedinto bloody strife.

It would have stopped a less reso-lute individual. But not Dr. Wozencraft.He redoubled his efforts. He won a hear-ing. Th e House Committee on PublicLands made a favorable report.

In March 1862, while McClellan wasdilly-dallying with his peninsular cam-paign against the Confederates at Rich-mond and ambulances were rollingthrough the streets of Washington loadedwith wounded and dying Union soldiers,

Dr. Wozencraft wrote from the nation'scapital to his mother at San Bernardino:

"Dear Mother: I avail myself of anopportunity of sending you by private

conveyance these few lines. The mailsare so uncertain that I deemed it almostuseless to write and I am in hopes thatthis fact may be sufficient apology formy seeming neglect.

"I arrived here in the enjoyment ofperfect health and continue to enjoy thatblessing. I found on my arrival that mybusiness was unattended to, and in allprobability would not have received the

least attention had I not come on. As itis , there is some prospect of my gettingit attended to, but doubtless I shall haveto remain here the entire session . . . Iam anxious to get the balance of my fam-ily out of that place and if I am crownedwith success in my present mission it willbe my first care to do so and make youmore comfortable . . . The weather hasbeen more favorable for the past few daysand doubtless the army here will soonmake a forward move and it is to behoped may soon bring this unnatural warto a close.

"Your affectionate son."Success Appears Certain

On May 27, 1862, the doctor's desertland bill was brought up in the House.At last it appeared that he was to be"crowned with success." He was on handearly. His bulky figure leaned forward,in a front seat of the gallery. He stareddown at the Speaker and the members inthe well. He had lost his youthful figurenow. Nearing 50, his bulldog jaw juttedfrom between muttonchop whiskers of astyle known as burnsides. His black hairwas bushy. His piercing eyes challengeda world in travail. He weighed 210pounds.

The House convened at noon. Thechaplain, Rev. Thomas H. Stocktonprayed for success of the army. TheSpeaker laid before the House a messagefrom the President on Mexican Affairs.Dr. Wozencraft, slightly impatient,twisted in his seat. After all these years,was his bill sidetracked again, when sonear a vote?

His anxiety was allayed when theSpeaker called for a report from theCommittee on Public Lands.

Mr. Crisfield, the gentleman fromMaryland, arose. He wished to reportback, with a recommendation that it dopass, the bill of the House (No. 417)granting to the State of California thetract of land known as the Colorado des-ert, for the purpose of introducing a suf-ficient supply of fresh water upon andover the same.

The bill was read.

Mr. Crisfield: "Unless there is a de-sire to debate this bill, I will ask theprevious question upon its passage. Iwill withdraw it, however, if any gentle-man desires information in relation tothe bill, or wishes to debate it."

Several gentlemen desired information.Mr. F. A. Conkling wanted to know,

"How much land does the bill grant toCalifornia?" Mr. Phelps hoped the gen-tleman from Maryland would not pressfor passage of the bill until the gentle-man had an opportunity to study thecommittee's report. Mr. Lovejoy wantedto know if the land was worthless. Mr.Trimble of Ohio believed that at least aportion of the land about to be ceded toa single individual actually embraced val-

uable agricultural land and included arich mineral region. He moved that thebill be referred to the Committee of theWhole on the State of the Union.

This was a favorite stratagem to getrid of objectionable legislation.

Mr. Crisfield was valiant in defense ofthe bill.

First, he said, the Committee cannotadvise the grant of all the land asked for,because perhaps one-half of it was moun-tain land, not necessary for the purposewhich the State of California set forth asthe reason for the grant. The purpose wasto introduce water upon this means ofcommunication between the East and theWest, and also for the purpose of bring-ing a large portion of this territory intosettlement. Th e part proposed to beceded was in truth and in fact a desertutterly worthless to the Government orto anyone else unless it could be wateredby artificial means.

Indians Fear Desert

"It is," he continued, "a vast, nakedplain. With the exception of a narrowstrip of bottom land on the west bank

of the Colorado River, and small patchesof grass around the few water holes andsprings in the vicinity of San Gorgoniopass, it is a waste, uninhabitable coun-try, without vegetation, except occasionalbunches of the creosote plant, and nearthe California mountains, of the arte-misia, and incapable of vegetation. FromApril to October it is subject to intenseheat, the atmosphere is dry and scorch-ing like the hot air from a furnace, andfrom November to March to severe cold.At the latter season the winds from thecoast range of mountains sweep across

this vast plain to the Gulf of Californiawith great violence, raising the fine sandof the desert in immense clouds, fillingthe atmosphere, concealing landmarks,almost obscuring the light of the sun,and forcing the traveler to stop immedi-ately, and await, as best he can, untilthe gale ceases. The Indians dwelling atthe outlet of San Gorgonio pass regardthis desert with horror. They call it "theJourney of Death,' and believe that thesouls of bad Indians are condemned towander over this desert forever—in sum-mer without water, in winter without

clothing."Mr. Crisfield warmed up to his sub-

ject:"I have looked carefully into all the




This is the Imperial Valley that Dr. W ozencrajt saw wh en he crossed the sandhills from Yuma in 1849 — a sandy wasteland growing only greasewood and

mesquite.

ircumstances attending the case; I haveooked at them in the light of a judge; Iave tried to look at them in the light of

a statesman. I think this grant ought toe made. I think justice to the State of

California requires and that the interestsof the United States require it to be

ade."It was a good appeal. But it failed to

move the insistent Mr. Trimble. On atest vote the bill was laid on the table.

Dr. Wozencraft's crown of success hadslipped from his grasp.

The gentleman from Maryland wasloyal. He tried again on June 23, 1862.Mr. Crisfield asked unanimous consentto bring the bill to vote. Mr. Stevens said,"I object." On July 7, following, Mr.Crisfield tried a third time. Then Mr.Trimble, the Ohio objector, blocked him.

Before the indomitable Dr. Wozencraftgot another hearing in Congress, 14years passed. In 1876 he failed to winpassage of his revived bill, and in 1878,

he had no better luck.Meantime money problems deviledhim. He had spent all his resources inhis fight. His wife thought it might helpif she could get a sewing machine.

The doctor went to sea as a ship's sur-geon, to keep his financial craft afloat.With all his troubles, he found time towrite letters to the papers. At HongKong in 1873 he advised the editor ofthe Hong Kong Times how to handle acholera outbreak in China. From Yoko-hama he sent to Alta California, pub-lished in San Francisco, 2,000 words onthe Japanese and their customs.

On a trip to South America cholerabroke out on his ship. He saved 200patients with only 18 deaths.

During long voyages he worked on in-

ventions. He sent to the commissionerof patents a model of an internal com-bustion engine. "I claim direct action onthe plunger of the motive power (an ex-plosive), with a trip in the piston rodacting on the valves for the admission ofthe explosive," he wrote. One of the pre-decessors of valve-in-head motors, per-haps.

In 1887 he went back to Washingtonfor the last time, still pursuing the mi-

rage of green fields and flowing water he

had seen on the desert, a lifetime and3,000 miles away.

He was 73 years old. The fire that haddriven him across parched deserts andover wide oceans was dying out. Youngupstarts in congress had no time to listento the fantastic dream of an old man.

What happened then is told in a letterwritten by a Washington attorney, Alex-ander Porter Morse, on December 2,

1887:"Mrs. O. M. Wozencraft."Dear Madam: I had not seen your

husband for some time, when one morn-ing early a lady who gave her name asMrs. Pagett, the wife of Dr. Pagett, calledat my office and informed me that Dr.O. M. Wozencraft was very sick at herhome, No. 1235 11th street, and that hewas very anxious to see me. I called uponhim at once, but finding him sleepingquietly I did not disturb him.

"N ext mo rning I called again. Dr.

Wozencraft seemed to be weak, as alsosick from a self-enforced fasting. I wasinformed that he had not eaten solid foodfor ten days and that he positively re-fused to take solid nourishment. I wasalso informed that he was without moneywhen he was taken in by Dr. and Mrs.Pagett. Notw ithstand ing this, he wasgiven one of the most comfortable andbright rooms in the house and so far asI could see received the most careful andgenerous attention during his last illness.

"As soon as I learned of his conditionI informed Judge Ord and Mr. J. W.

Denver of this city. Judge Ord responded

This aerial view oj Imperial valley as it appears today was taken by B. D. Glahafor the U. S. Bureau oj Reclamation. Photograph shows the new All-American

canal just east oj Calexico.

J U N E , 1 9 3 9 27



at once and did what he could in thepremises."

Pacificus Ord did not forget the tiesof '49. One of the doctor's old friendsof constitutional convention days wasstanding by.

Long years before, Dr. Wozencraft hadwritten on "Euthenasy" in the PacificMedical and Surgical Journal:

"As lon g as we can fulfill one usefulmission to ourselves and to others, justso long are we entitled to our tabernacleof flesh and no longer. It is but an earth-born selfishness that would cause us towish or strive beyond this."

He would tell his hopeless patients,he wrote, "There is nothing dark andforbidding in the realm destined fortheir future abode; that there they willfind peace and joy; that it would be adesirable change in all respects; that theywould appear in a new and beautiful in-vestiture from which their Maker's image

would shine forth. I would draw the pic-ture as beautiful, as strong and invitingas consistent with my faith in the future."

Perhaps these words came back to himat the end.

From Washington Dr. Wozencraft'sbody was sent to California. This timehe made the journey on a train drawnby one of those "caloric engines" he hadpresumed would be used on the trans-continental railroad he had urged inother days. Thus he made his farewellcrossing of the Colorado desert, on theway to his long rest in the mausoleumat San Bernardino with all his family athis side.

There, in a vault built above groundas in New Orleans cemeteries, in a cubi-cle sealed with polished granite, hesleeps. The inscription at his head reads:

DR. O. M. WOZENCRAFT

A pioneer member of the first conventionheld at Monterey in 1849 to form aconstitution for the state. Born in

Ohio, July 28, 1814. Crossed theplains in 1849. Died in Wash-

ington, D. C. November,

2 2 , 1887."

COMPLETE your fi leof the DESERT MAGAZINE . . .

V o lume 1 c omple te(12 co pie s an d binder) 4.50

Vo lum e 1 without binder 3.50

Volum e 1 with binder an d1-year adv an ce subs . 6 .50

Gold-embossed loose-leaf binder(specify vol um e num ber) $1.00

REGULAR 1-year $2.50SUBSCRIPTION 2-years 4.00RATES 3-years 5.00

597 State St. El Cen tro, Calif.

D E S E R T Q U I ZHere's another quiz for members of the desertfraternity. The best score reported last monthwas 15 correct answers out of a possible 20.

It is a rather severe test, we'll admit. If you get 10 correct answers you knowmore than the average resident of the desert country. If you answer 15 of thequestions you are entitled to a super-rating—and if you exceed 15 you will beeligible to a charter membership in the Royal Order of Sand Dune Sages. Theanswers are on page 31.

1—Geronimowas—Pima Indian Apache Indian

Navajo Indian Yaqui Indian2—The White Sands of New Mexico have been reserved as a—National Park National Monum entState Park National Forest

3—Tinajas Altas watering place is on—Roosevelt Highway Butterfield Stage RoadCamino del Diablo Old Santa Fe Tr aiL

4—The color of Beavertail cactus blossom is—Blue Orange Magenta Yellow

5—The first overland stage coach to carry passengers across the southwesterndesert was operated by—

Banning Birch Butterfield Bradshaw6— Stalactites and stalagmites m ost commonly found in natural caves are

made of—Limestone Qua rtz Calcite Feldspar

7—Indian kivas found in the southwestern Indian ruins were used primarilyfor—

Storing Food WorkshopsHid ing from enemies Ceremonial purposes

8—When Juan Bautista de Aaza crossed the Colorado desert of SouthernCalifornia he camped one night at a water hole now known as Harper'swell. In his diary De Anza called it—

San Felipe Springs Indian W ellSan Sebastian Springs Borrego water hole

9—According to the Mohs scale, the hardest of the four minerals listedbelow is—

Sapphire Diamond Corundum Topaz10—Arches national monument is located in—

Colorado New Mexico Arizona Utah11—The first explorer to navigate the Grand Canyon of the Colorado river

w a s — •

Bill W illiams Powell W hipp le Ives12—Desert mistletoe is found most often on—

Mesquite trees Smoke treesPalo Verde trees Desert willows

13—Adolf F. Bandelier wrote—The Land of Little Rain Mesa, Canon and PuebloThe Delight Makers California Desert Trails

14—Before the white man brought soap to the Southwest, the Indians, forcleansing purposes used—

Minerals Yucca roots Agave leaves No thing15—A Hopi woman, according to native custom, obtains a divorce by—

Leaving her husband Edict of the medicine manPlacating the gods Putting her husban d's belongings

on the doorstep16—The Chuckawalla lizard lives mainly on—

Mice and rats VegetationBugs and insects Oth er lizards

17—Morro Rock in New Mexico is famous for the following reason—Its historical inscriptions Its odd shapeAs a landmark for travelers Its Indian taboo

18—Mission San Xavier del Bac was established originally by—Father Garces Father Font Father Kino Father Escalante

19—The present Salton sea was filled when the Colorado river broke outof control in—

1891 1907 1905 185320—Pyramid Lake is located on the reservation of the—

Shoshones Piutes Cahuillas Pimas




Certain species of woodpeck-ers live in the cactus forests ofArizona and drill their holes inthe trunks of the giant saguaro.Nature, seeking to heal thewound in the pulpy structure ofthe tree builds a tough layer ofscar tissue around the cavity.This, tissue remains intact longafte:: the cactus has fallen and

decayed. And therein lies thesource of one of the most novelhobbies found in the desertcountry. Ernest Hall of Salome,Arizona has a collection of morethan 800 of these odd-shapedbird's nests. Here is the story ofthis strange hobby, and the re-markable man who originatedit.

ome

By LOIS ELDER STEINER

^t f HERE are hobbies and hobbies—g but it has remained for Ernest

Hall of Salome, Arizona to fillthe niches in his little desert cabin withone of the strangest assortments of oddi-ties ever assembled by a hobbyist.

Ernest collects old bird nests—but notthe kind of bird nests you are thinkingabout. In fact, if you were to walk intohis home and inspect his trophies forthe first time you would fail to note anyconnection between these queer-shapedchunks of wood-like substance, and the

bird family.His nests were all made by woodpeck-

ers—and every one of them was takenfrom the decaying trunk of an old sagu-aro cactus.

Here is a hobby that is necessarilylimited to the desert of southwesternUnited States, and more particularly tothat limited portion of the desert onwhich grows the gigantic saguaro mem-ber of the cactus family.

It is a curious exhibit—brought to-gether by the interest and ingenuity of

an unusual personality. For Ernest Hall'slife has been occupied with a wide rangeof remarkable achievements.

Back in the early spring of 1918, asenator from Maricopa county, Arizonastood up in the session of the legislature

Ernest Hall with some of the odd-shaped woodpecker nests in his collection oj

more than 800.

and declared, "I'm getting dam sick andtired of all this jangling. We haven'tpassed a bill for months. We're not do-

ing anything for anybody. I'm going outwhere I can be some use." The speakerwas Ernest R. Hall.

Having finsihed his speech, SenatorHall scribbled his resignation and walkedout. A few hours later Private E. R. Hall,27th Engineer Corps, entered a telephonebooth and told his wife as gently as hecould that he was on his way to trainingcamp for the war.

In France a few months later, as helay in his cot suffering from a severe coldbrought on by exposure, his major said

to him:"Private Hall, how old are you?""Forty, sir!" he answered promptly.The major smiled skeptically. "Is that

your real age or your army age?" Thelimit at that time was 40 years.

"Sir," said Private Hall, "if I said Iwas 40 when I joined the army and wastelling the truth, then I am telling the

truth now. If I said I was 40 when Ijoined the army and was lying—then Iam lying now."

The major looked at him for a fullminute before replying.

"You win," he said, and walkedaway.

There is a quaint spring of humor inthe personality of Ernest Hall that bub-bles forth with refreshing unexpected-ness. Behind a pair of grave brown eyeslurks an ever ready twinkle. He is an un-assuming westerner — just as much at

home today in his beloved hills of "Har-cuvar" as he was on that morning longago when he tramped down the streetbefore the state capitol building at Phoe-nix to the tune of a martial air.

Ernest's home town of Salome is on

J U K E , 1 9 3 9 29



fv1.

This is the Gila ivoodpecker, one ofthe hvo species ivhich drill most oj

the holes in the saguaro.

U. S. Highway 60, half way betweenWickenburg, Arizona and Blythe, Cali-fornia. It was here that Dick Wick Hall—Ernest's brother — lived and gained

nationwide fame as the author of storiesabout the frog that is seven years oldand never learned to swim, and the "23-mile golf lynx."

Ernest still roams the same desertwhich he and Dick Wick tramped to-gtiher and prospected before the latter'sdeath in 1926.

Sooner or later nearly every deserttraveler passes through Salome. In a littlecabin near the grave of his illustriousbrother, Ernest keeps his queer assort-ment of woodpecker nests. There is agleam of pride in his eyes as he explains

just how and why these fantastic desertproducts were born. Yes, born! For tohim they are alive. They are his hobbychildren. And what a family—800 ormore.

Strange as it may seem, there are noquintuplets — no twins — no two alike.The baby of them all is a perfectly wat-ertight olla, one and one-half inches high.Reclining gracefully against the wall isthe big sister, her upturned face resemb-ling an immense flower, its petals open-ing to the sun. But—in the back end ofhis truck is the most interesting nest cf

Here are just a jew of the strangelooking specimens in the Ernest

Hall collection of bird nests.

all—the last one to be brought in fromthe hills. Only, it isn't a woodpecker nestat all. It is a real, live, swarming bee-hive, shaped like a long crook-neckedgourd, and very heavy. A few bees arestill angrily hovering around, and througha crack near the bottom can be seen partof a delicious looking honey-comb. Hall',face is suspiciously red and swollen.

To understand Ernest Hall's hobby it

is necessary to know something aboutthe habits of desert woodpeckers, andalso about the construction of the saguarocactus.

In the center of the saguaro trunk is avertical core of ribs—tou^h slender canesencased in the fibrous pulp which formsthe outer covering of the trunk.

Desert woodpeckers long ago discov-ered that these huge cylindrical saguarotrunks provided perfect homesites. Thepulpy substance is easy to drill—and thethorns on the cactus discouraged un-wanted guests. And so nearly every vet-

eran trunk in the saguaro forest of Ari-zona is punctured with bird holes.

When the outer skin of the cactusplant is cut the flesh begins to decay. Im-mediately Mother Nature sends an SOSdown into the plant to all the little cam-bian cells.

If weather and plant conditions arefavorable they start weaving what iscalled scar tissue. As soon as Mother Na-ture is supplied with enough of thisgerm-proof material she covers thewound, first, with one layer, and then, astime goes on, others. If weather andplant conditions are not favorable, deteri-oration goes on until they are; thus, cav-ities of all sizes and shapes are formed.

There are three types of cavities. Thefirst is formed near the outer skin and isnever used by the woodpecker himself.Other birds come along and build nestsin these cavities. The second type isformed by the woodpecker burrowing all

CACTUS WOODPECKERS

Two species of woodpeckers mostcommonly found in the saguaro forestsare the Gila woodpecker (Centurusuropygialis) and Mearn's gilded flicker(Colpates chrysoides mearnsi).

The Gila woodpecker is the brighter .Its red crown-patch and golden yellowbreast contrast vividly with the black-and-white bars of back and wings.

When in flight two whitish patchesshow as it opens its wings. It is an ac-tive noisy bird, uttering a high-pitchednasal squeal when in flight and char-acteristically jerking its head whenperched.

Except for the yellow lining of tailand wings, the gilded flicker might bemistaken for the red-shafted flicker outof its normal habitat. But to see it inthe saguaro region is proof of its identi-fication, for it is even more restrictedto this area than the Gila woodpecker.The breast is thickly covered withlarge, round black spots and its crownis cinnamon. It is larger than the Gilawoodpecker.

After these birds abandon their nest-ing holes the cavities in the cactus areoccupied by elf owls, screech owls,sparrow hawks, flycatchers and otherbirds.

the way through until he strikes the hard,woody ribs, then, following the path ofleast resistance, drills on down. This typealways remains attached to the ribs, andis also used by other birds, as well as in-sects for nests and shelter.

The third type—and this one is themost important of all—is made by the

woodpecker burrow ing throu gh the fleshypulp, breaking through the ribs, and bur-rowing his way into the heart of the sag-uaro. This is where the larger specimensare found. Here, unmolested from thekillers of the air, the wise little rascallives in peace.

Eventually, the saguaro dies, eitherfrom age or injury—often from lightning—falls over and crumbles away. But the

30 T h e D E S E R T ' M A G A Z I N E



It is indestructible in water. Ernest

When asked why he is interested in

outcropping. W ell — you

"Same with human beings. You've got

ke these things now . . . I passed an

hing about that old cactus kept calling

digging away—and that's how I foundmy best specimen."

When asked why he chose woodpeck-er nests for a hobby, Ernest laughed

uiltily. Well—it's just a little personal,"he confessed. "You see, I was making alamp stand for my wife, out of somecholla limbs, and decided to use a wood-pecker nest for a shade—providing Icould find just the right shape. Well—I£m still looking for just the right shape—and my wife is still waiting for herlamp shade."

A few months ago he was invited togo to New York to appear on Dave El-rnan's Hobby Lobby program. When hereceived the invitation he answered,"Well what would a desert rat do onBroadway? However, I'll take a chance."

New York was all right as an experi-ence, but he prefers the Arizona deserthills. He works on his mining claims,and keeps an eye out for a fallen saguarothat may have a new novelty for his col-lection. Through the passing years he has

found some pay streaks and a lot ofworthless lowgrade—but there is one richstringer that never pinches. That is thehigh esteem in which Ernest Hall is heldby all who know him.

KEETSIE--Navajo Artist

(Continued \rom page 21)

they taught there seemed to me only tocloud the issue of picture making.

"If I could remember how a horse

looks as it drinks at a desert station, andif with a few easy strokes I could put thatpicture on paper, why should I stop tocount the ribs in a horse's skeleton? Butthose things were part of the course andI tried hard to learn. One thing I wassure of — I would learn everything thewhite teacher had to offer and I'd useonly what of it really helped me. Thenewspaper lady helped me with that:'Learn all you can from them, but never,never try to imitate their pictures. Noth-ing they can give you is fair exchange foryour own native instinct when it comes

to drawing animals!'"By and by my money was all gone

so I came back to Fort Defiance. I lookedand looked for work, but all I could getwas a day here or half a day there, untilthe ECW went into effect. Then I wasput on as a jack of all trades. Then again,I took a truck apart and put new bearingsin for those burned out, or I acted asinterpreter and when the soil erosion con-trol work began there were lots of pic-tures needed to show my people whatcould be done if they would just helpthe government. I made posters for thecommunity houses and schools and inbetween times I painted the pictures thatare on the walls of the buildings at Win-dow Rock and other agency offices.

"It takes me about three full days tomake one of the water colors like thosein the club house here at WindowRock. I always have plenty to do now.There are covers to draw for the differ-ent publications put out by the Service,and always there are posters to be madefor the Chapter Houses (official meetingplaces of the Navajo Counc il) ; and

whenever there is a fair close by we putlots of posters up to show the worldwhat the government is trying to do forthe Navajo sheep owners. I made theposters used in the first Navajo fair thisyear. I'm very busy and very contented."

Keetsie is officially known as CharlesShirley, a name given to him at Albu-querque, and his signature is a familiarone to lovers of Indian art. He is totallyunspoiled and has none of the poses oraffectations too often connected with art-ists, but he is genuinely pleased whensome one he likes praises his work. Inthe years to come those persons fortunateenough to possess one of his drawingsor paintings, with its swift free lines anddelicate coloring can proudly say: "Thiswas done by the Navajo artist, Keetsie!"

WATER SUPPLY BELOW NORMALIN SOUTHWESTERN AREA

Based on snow reports from the moun-tain watersheds, the seasonal runoff inthe rivers of the Southwest will be lowerthis year than normal. Expressed in per-centage of normal, the flow in the streamswill be as follows:

Rio Grande 83, San Juan and Dolores

48, Gunnison 81, Colorado 100, Yampaand White 97. Compared with 1938 theflow will be: Rio Grande 56, San Juanand Dolores 36, Gunnison 63, Colorado87, Yampa and White 83. These figureswere issued by the U. S. Weather Bureau.

DESERT QUIZ ANSWERS

(Questions on page 28 )

1—Apache Indian 11—Powell2— National 12—M esquite trees

monument. 13—The Delight

3—Camino del MakersDiablo 14—Yucca roots

4—M agenta 15—Putting his be-5—Birch longings on the6—Limestone doorstep7—Ceremonial 16—Vegetation

purposes 17—H istorical in-8—San Sebastian scriptions

springs 18—Father Kino9—Diamond 19—1905

10—Utah 20—Piutes

vflcimonw h e r e th e desert

takes a d ip !This year relax on the cool,

clean sands of the beach atDel Mar, Southern Califor-nia's distinctive seaside re-sort . . . where the quaintcharm of merrie old England

wins instant favor amongsports-enthusiasts and sun-lazers alike.

Enjoy the savory food . . .slumber deep in comfy beds. . . at Del Mar, where thedesert meets the blue Pacific.

20 miles northof San Diego!

105 milessouth of

Los A n ge les

H OTEL DEL VTIARDEL MAR • SOUTHER N CALIFORN IA

] U N E , 1 9 3 9 31



O n e of the questions in the minds of those des-ert dwellers who are equipping their homes withnew cool ing systems this season i s whether to usethe cooling fan or blower type of installation. Eachmethod has i ts advantages . In the accompanyingarticle, L. G. Tandb erg, a qu alified eng ineer , set sforth briefly the relative merits of the two typesand the special purposes for which they are de-signed. This information is given without preju-dice, to assist home owners in making their own

decis ions .

M ote

& ooleti fiot

A typical evaporative cooler equipped with 3-speed fanassembly, water re-circulating pump and louvers. Thecooler has side removed to show interior construction.

By L. G . T A N D B E R G

r HE evaporative type cooler is now accepted quiteuniversally as a satisfactory means of increasing sum-mer comfort in regions where high temperatures are

accompanied by moderately low relative humidity, such as areencountered in most of the western and southwestern partsof the United States.

satisfactory evaporative cooler; the first being that the coolerhas passed from the experimental and home-made stage tothe more sightly, efficient and durable equipment made bylocal contractors or air-conditioning manufacturing companies.

I shall attempt to bring out in this article the apparent trendin evaporative cooler construction, installation and operatingpractices.

In general, there are two outstanding requirements for asatisfactory evaporative cooler; the first being that the coolersmust have an output capacity sufficient to effect a completeair change in the space to be cooled rapidly enough to pre-vent excess humidity, and, second, inasmuch as the evapor-ative pad surface acts as a cooling tower, this surface mustbe large enough to cool the volume of air being drawnthrough the cooler. Failure to comply with either one ofthese requirements is the cause of most failures to obtainsatisfactory results.

In order to obtain maximum results from your evaporativecooler, it should have all of the following desirable charac-teristics :

1. COOLING EFFICIENCY. The actual capacity neededvaries with the outside temperature and relative humidity. In

moderately mild weather and low relative humidity a capacitysufficient to provide an air change once every three to fiveminutes will be found satisfactory. When higher temperaturesare encountered, and also when higher relative humiditiesprevail, a more rapid air change is necessary for satisfactoryresults. It is a safe rule to purchase a cooler on the basis ofhaving sufficient capacity so that when necessary it will pro-vide complete air change in the space to be cooled at leastevery two minutes. This can easily be determined by figuringthe cubic foot content of the space to be cooled, which iswidth times length times height in feet, and dividing thisfigure by two, which should be the capacity of the cooler incubic feet per minute.

2. QUIET OPERATION. Early coolers, using make-shift motors and blades, were very noisy when handling theamount of air necessary for satisfactory operation. Evapor-ative cooling fans are now available with large blade areawhich, when operated at low speed, will provide the neces-sary volume of air quietly. In order to overcome the noisecaused by early makeshift fans, blowers became quite popularfor moving the air noiselessly. Either an evaporative coolingfan designed for this purpose, or a blower, will move thenecessary volume of air quietly.

3. APPEARANCE. There are many factors contributingto the sightly appearance of an evaporative cooler. The earlymodels were often unsightly and crude. In general, the closerthe cooler can be made to conform to the side of the build-ing, the less objectionable its appearance.

At best the evaporative cooling pad is unsightly, especiallyafter some use, when it becomes discolored. Either a separategrill or a louver assembly will materially improve the ap-




make a much neater installation.

4. ECONOMY. All evaporative coolers are relatively

uch a;; refrigeration. How ever, th ere is still considerab le vari-

:o keep the evaporative pad wet so that air is not drawn:hrough dry surfaces in the pad. In order to do this it isnecessary to pass over the pad two or three times as much

jsed only the water that evaporates is used and the remainderhich passes over the pad is re-circulated. This results in a

aving of one-half or more of the water expense.

There is considerable variation in electric current cost forvarious types of evaporative coolers having the same outputin cubic feet per minute in air delivery. This is due to thedifference in efficiency resulting from the method of moving:he air. As indicated under paragraph 2, entitled "QuietOperation," either an evaporative cooling fan or a blowerused in evaporative coolers will move the necessary amountof air quietly. However, for most application the use of anevaporative cooling fan will result in operating costs some-what lower than required for a blower type cooler.

5. FLEXIBILITY. It seems just as reasonable to providevarying capacities of cooling to suit varying summer tempera-:ures as it is to provide varying capacities of heating for win-:er temperatures. A large majority of evaporative coolersnow installed have only a fixed capacity so when tempera-tures are 80° the same amount of cooling is provided as whenremperatures are as high as 120°. Obviously this does notprovide satisfactory results. It should be possible to operatesvaporative coolers at maximum capacity for extreme con-ditions when temperatures run from 110° to 120°, and beible to reduce the capacity of coolers for night operation andfor milder weather when the temperature will run from 80°:o 100°.

If a cooler is selected having capacity as suggested underparagraph 1, entitled "Cooling Efficiency," this will providethe necessary capacity for extremely hot weather. Such a unitEquipped with a 3-speed evaporative cooling fan would thenprovide two lower capacities, 25% and 50% below the totalrapacity so that comfortable conditions may be maintainedregardless of whether the outside temperature is 80°, 110°

ar 120°.In selecting a cooler having the above characteristics you

will obtain maximum satisfaction at minimum of cost.

6. BLOW ERS OR FAN S. At present there is consider-able confusion resulting from lack of understanding as towhich type is best suited for particular requirements. Bothblowers and fans of the evaporative cooler type will producethe amount of air movement through an evaporative coolerquietly for satisfactory cooling results. For an installation tobe connected to hot air furnace heating plant or where airis to be distributed to the space to be cooled through ducts,i blower is best suited, as it will deliver air more satisfactorilyagainst: static pressures so encountered. Where air is to be

blown directly into the space to be cooled, as through awindow or similar opening, as is the case in about 95% ofsvaporative cooler installations, either an evaporative coolingfan or a blower may be used successfully.

A cooler equipped with a blower will discharge the air into

An evaporative cooler equipped with blower, wa ter re-circulating pump and louvers.

the space being cooled in a concentrated air stream at a highvelocity. A cooler equipped with an evaporative cooling fanspreads the air at a much lower velocity than is obtained witha blower. Either type of capacity needed for satisfactory cool-ing will provide sufficient pressure to move the air from roomto room, expelling it through openings provided for this pur-pose.

Summarizing the above, an evaporative cooler, equippedwith makeshift fan, blower or evaporative fan assembly, ofthe proper capacity, will satisfactorily lower the temperaturewhen used in an evaporative cooler properly constructed.

The blower type unit is much more satisfactory for forcing

air through ducts, such as in a furnace installation.While fans used in early evaporative coolers were noisy

and unsatisfactory, there are now available evaporative cool-ing fans designed especially for this purpose that are quietand very economical.

Flexibility of cooling capacities, such as is provided with3-speed evaporative cooling fan assemblies, is necessary tovary the cooling capacity to suit the cooling needs.

Considering that most persons who are prospects for evap-orative coolers now own automobiles, radios, electric refriger-ators, and many have electric ranges, it seems reasonable thatsuch persons would be willing to pay a reasonable price ofsay $200, or thereabouts for something that will give themeasure of comfort and health that a well-designed, well-constructed evaporative type cooler will provide. When thistime comes evaporative coolers will be offered that are de-signed to provide all of the characteristics essential for maxi-mum cooler satisfaction as outlined in this article.

J U N E , 1 9 3 9 33



Sez HardRock Shorty

of . . .DeathV a l l e yBy LON GARRISON

" Y u p . I always was a good hunt-er too," announced Hard RockShorty as he mooched a pipe loadof tobacco and settled down for aquiet hour in the shade on the In-ferno store porch.

"I'm a dead shot, I can hike thelegs off a road runner, I know more

about where to find deer than theirmothers do, an' I'm husky enoughto lug two bucks back to camp atonct. Yes sir—I do pretty good.Why I never missed a buck I shotat except once, an' that really had-n't ought to count.

"It was one time down in thePanamints, around Telescope Peak.We was about out o' meat in camp,an' I'd been trackin' this big buckalong for six or seven hours. Allof a sudden I looked ahead, an'

there he was right in front o' melookin' the other way. It wasn'tover fifty yard, an' I pulled OldBetsy down, took a good carefulaim, an' Ker-Blam! I looked forthe buck to drop, but he just kep'on standin' there. I sure thought hemust be stone deaf, an' that I'dmissed 'im clean. So I took aimagain - - K er-Blam! Still no use.That buck just stood there an'wiggled his ears. He didn't evenlook around at me.

"Well, I figgered there must besomethin' wrong, so I started ang-lin' around to try a shot from theside. After I'd crawled about 400yards without seemin' to get anycloser, all of a sudden I run intoa glass window like thing. Thatwas funny, but it didn't take melong to figger it out. It was one o'them glass mountains, an' that buckwas on the other side of it. Notonly that—the glass was the kind

they uses in telescopes, an' thatbuck really was twenty miles awayby actual measurement."

M ineAaad M i+pHurley, New Mexico . . .

Completion of Nevada Consolidated Cop-per corporation's new $5,000,000 smelterhere is announced by the company. Plantcapacity is 10 million pounds of blister cop-

per monthly. Building was begun two yearsago by Chino mines division of KennecottCopper. It utilizes natural gas as fuel. Hun-dreds of houses have been built for companyemployes. Ch ino s milling and crushingplants at Hurley and the mining camp atSanta Rita have also been expanded. Ne-vada Consolidated's new construction islargest by private industry in New Mexicoin more than 10 years.

Tucson, Arizona . . .Arizona's bureau of mines has bought

equipment to make quantitative spectroscop-ic analyses of ore. This new service will beavailable to producers next fall. Savings intime and money will result, according toG. M . Butler, bureau director. Analyseswhich formerly cost $100 and took severaldays will be made in a few hours at one-tenth the cost, Butler says.

Winnemucca, Nevada . . .Nevada's largest mill, 600-ton plant of

Getchell Mine Inc., on the slopes of theOsgood mountains in Humboldt county, isbeing enlarged to 800-ton capacity, it isannounced here. The mill is operating atfull capacity.

Austin, Nevada . . .Guy Grannis and associates of Gallup.

N . M., have taken over the George Burn-ham turquoise mines near here. New equip-ment will be installed by the operators,

whose market is found in part among Nava-jo Indian jewelry makers.

Virden, New Mexico . . .To supply recently increased demand for

bentonite, New Mexico and Texas ownersof a large deposit near this town have an-nounced a mill will be erected. The millwill grind the clay to a powder. Long usedfor foundry moulding and in many cos-metics, bentonite is now said to have possi-bilities in manufacture of a fireproof, non-warping, tough and pliant membrane asamenable to printing as certain grades ofpaper.

Phoenix, Arizona . . .Four field engineers have been appointed

by the recently established state departmentof mineral resources: Carl G. Barth, Jr.,Prescott, Yavapai and Maricopa counties;Miles M. Carpenter, Tuscon, Pima, SantaCruz and Cochise counties; Elgin B. Holt,Kingman, Mohave and Yuma counties;New ton Wolcott , Globe, Gila, Graham,Greenlee and Pinal counties. These appoint-ees started two weeks' training course onMay 15, then will take up field duty.

Lovelock, Nevada . . .Another mining bubble burst, with offi-

cial denial that emeralds had been found atthe Nevada-Massachusetts tungsten mine.Otto Heizer, general manager of the RareMetals corporation, said a specimen of beryl

analyzed at the Smithsonian Institution,Washington D. C, contained no gem emer-alds. The specimen showed clear aquamarinecolor of gem emerald, but would not standcutting. Never has gem emerald been foundin North America, Heizer says.

. .

Morenci, Arizona . . .Phelps Dodge corporation will build a

25,000-ton metallurgical plant here earlyin 1940. Louis S. Cates, P-D president, madethe announcement. The plant is expected to

be in operation in 1942, under direction ofW . W. Jourdin, New Y ork, consult ing en-gineer for Anaconda Copper company.

Phoenix, Arizona . . .During 1938 Arizona mining and smelt-

ing companies reporting under unemploy-ment compensation law paid $17,088,308 toan average of 10,849 workers. Figures fromthe unemployment compensation commissionshow this is 23 per cent of wages paid inthe state to 20 per cent of wage earners.Total wages of all reporting industries were$73,143,787, to an average of 54,806 em-ployes.

Reno, N e v a d a . . .Senator Pittman has written identical let-

ters to 16 senators inviting them to join amovement to force the President and theTreasury department to agree to peg theprice for domestic silver at not less than77.57 cents an ounce until June 30, 1941.Present price is 64.64 cents.

San Bernardino, California . . .At the annual meeting of the California

Federation of Mineralogical societies heldhere in April Ernest W . Chapm an of SouthPasadena was re-elected president for theensuing year. C. D. Woodhouse of SantaBarbara was named vice president and Ken-neth B. Garner of San Bern ardino re-electedsecretary-treasurer.

• • •

Superstition Mountains to be

Preserved as Wilderness

Arizona's land of mystery in the Supersti-tion mountains near Phoenix has been set asideas wilderness area. Forest service announce-ment calls it "one of the most alluring regionsof the Southwest." Several roads end near thewilderness boundary, but within the area thereare only a few trails for foot and horsebacktravelers. Under forest service policies govern-ing wilderness areas no roads will be con-structed. Before white men visited the region,

it was held in awe by the desert Indians.Legends of fabulously rich, lost gold minesabound. Prospectors died in vain search of theLost Dutchman, Adams Diggings, the oldSpanish mine, La Mina de los Sombreros.

No permits will be granted for residences,resort or similar development which wouldaffect primitive aspects of the area. The newwilderness thus dedicated to the public useincludes the Superstition mountains and 132,-000 acres in the Tonto and Crook nationalforests. Prominent peaks are Pinto, BlackCross butte, Fish creek, White, Iron and Tor-tilla mountains, Superstition peaks, Weaver'sand Miner's needles, rising to an elevation of4500 to 6000 feet. North of the divide be-tween Salt and Gila rivers, the rugged topog-raphy consists of a series of irregular ridgesand mesas separated by deep, narrow canyons.South of the divide the Superstition rangerises precipitously from the valley floor.




0/ tke.

Just to prove that she can write in-as well as exquisite poet-

ry, LOIS ELDER STEINER has given:he readers of the Desert Magazine thismonth a unique "hobby story." Mrs.Steiner formerly lived at Salome, Arizonawhere she knew Ernest Hall, the subject

af her word sketch, as neighbor andfriend. During the past year the Steinersmoved to Phoenix to provide betterschool opportunities for their children.

HARRY DACQUET, prize-winner inthe Desert Magazine's amateur photogra-phic contest last month, wrote as followsabout his experience in Antelope Valley,California, on the trip the picture wastaken:

"We stayed overnight on the shores ofRosamond dry lake. No one was around

to bother us so we had the place prettywell to ourselves. However, late Sundayafternoon I had to unhitch the car and goout to the waterline near the center ofthe 'dry lake' and snake a 'city fellar' outof the mud. He had driven his car tooclose to the damp surface and his wheelsbroke through the crust. There he sat,clear up to the running boards. And, boy,was he happy to find a helping hand!

There are many girls who can climbmountains, and many more who can write

good magazine copy — but the DesertMagazine readers this month will makethe acquaintance of a young lady whodoes both feats—superlatively well.

Even if you never climbed a mountainin your life, and never expect to do so,you'll enjoy RUTH DYAR'S sparklingstory of her San Jacinto ascent.

Ruth was born and grew up on a ten-acre farm in the apple orchards andfarming country near Spokane, Washing-ton. She attended country grammarschool, high school in Spokane, and theUniversity of Washington in Seattle,graduating cum laude from the school ofjournalism in 1934. Since graduation,she has done secretarial work in Califor-nia, and keeps house in Los Angeles withher sister Joan.

Her father is Ralph E. Dyar, Spokaneplaywright, author and newspaper man,and she has three sisters and a brother.The whole family likes skiing, fishing,and the outdoors, but so far Ruth is theonly rock climber.

She joined the Sierra Club and the SkiMountaineers section in January 1938

and a year ago started climbing with theRock Climbing section. She had neverheard of rock climbing up to that time,and never liked anything so well in herlife.

During the summer of 1938, she at-

tended numerous practice climbs aroundLos Angeles and at Tahquitz (Lily) Rocknear Idyllwild. Her first long climb wasmade on the Fourth of July, when shewas with a party of five who made a 14-hour climb of Mt. Sill, 14,200-foot Sierrapeak in the Palisades Glacier region, by anew route. Over Labor Day she was amember of the party of eleven RCS

climbers who back-packed in to East FaceLake at 12,800-foot and climbed the EastFace of Mt. Whitney, 14,485-feet, by thenew (Sunshine-Peewee) route.

Ruth spends almost every weekend inthe mountains, from December to May

skiing with the Ski Mountaineers at theirhuts at San Antonio and Keller Peak; onSan Gorgonio; and once this winter atCharleston Peak, Nevada.

She has always enjoyed writing, thoughthis is her first published article. Shewrote her (first and last) book in theFourth Grade, worked on school papersin high school and the University, and

wrote "It Is Done," pamphlet on collegeetiquette still sold to University ofWashington students. She also edits TheMugelnoos, bi-weekly publication of theSki Mountaineers and Rock ClimbingSections of the Sierra Club.

S U m m E R C O f l l f O R T isno l o n g e r

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J U N E , 1 9 3 9 35



S P H I N XDon Erskine of Boulder City, Nevada won theprize offered by the Desert Magazine in Apri lfor the identification and best description of the

rock formation shown in the picture below. This rock is in the Valley ofFi re in Nevada and i s known as the "Sphinx." Erskine ' s pr ize-winning de-scr ipt ive s tory i s pr inted be low.

By DON ERSKINE

^tt HE picture in the Landmarks con-g test for April shows the "Sphinx,"

an interesting formation in theValley of Fire in southern Nevada. Thisodd shape has been sculptured by winderosion out of a flaming red sandstonefrom which the Valley of Fire gets itsname. The sunset glow at the end of a

hot summer day gives the red walls ofthe valley the appearance of being actu-ally on fire. A large part of the valley isincluded in the Boulder Dam-Valley ofFire state park.

The road through the Valley of Firewas once a part of the Arrowhead trail,and still remains in much the same con-dition as when the stage coaches rumbledover it. Though it is rough in manyplaces, the use of a reasonable amount ofcaution will enable any car to traverse itat any season. It connects at Crystal, Ne-

vada, 36 miles north of Las Vegas, withU. S. Highway 91 on the western end,and at the eastern end now joins the new-ly paved highway from Overton to the

northern arm of Lake Mead. The un-paved portion of the road is approximate-ly 27 miles in length.

Within the Valley of Fire may alsobe seen Atlatl rock. This rock is coveredwith prehistoric Indian petroglyphs andreceives its name from the fact that oneof the drawings on its face shows a manusing an atlatl or spear thrower. There

are many other grotesquely carved forma-tions in addition to the "Sphinx." The"Beehive" will be seen not far from the"Sphinx." There are no habitations ordevelopments in the Valley of Fire otherthan a campground with tables, fireplaces^rock shelters and comfort stations con-structed several years ago by CCC forcesunder the direction of the national parkservice. There is no water available with-in the valley, so campers should carryenough for their needs.

At the town of Overton, Nevada, 18

miles from the heart of the valley, is lo-cated a museum of archaeology main-tained by the national park service. Hereis told the fascinating story of the Pueblo

Indians who constructed the "Lost City"more than 1000 years ago, and of theBasketmakers who lived before them.The original site of the "Lost City" isnow submerged under the rising watersof Lake Mead, and visitors must be con-tent with seeing the replica of it whichhas been constructed near the museum atOverton.

Visitors to the Boulder dam regionmay see the Valley of Fire, the OvertonMuseum and the northern or Virgin armof Lake Mead all in a one day's roundtrip from Boulder City covering approxi-mately 185 miles. In addition to themany scenic attractions of the region onemay enjoy boating, fishing, swimmingand the other activities being made possi-ble by the national park service in theBoulder dam recreational area, whichadjoins the Valley of Fire.

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IN U T A H Higher Fees in National ParksW ho can identify this rock?

. . .Somewhere in west central Utah this unusual rock face isbe seen. It bears a striking resemblance to one of the

and is therefore a well known landmark

The photographer who took this picture assures us thatthe rock nor the negative has been retouched.

Desert Magazine readers will want to know more aboutand in order to bring out all

a prize of $5.00 is offered to the

who sends in the best identification and descriptionthe landmark.Entries in this contest should give all available informationto location, roads and other means of access, approximate

ze and any historical or legendary material which may bebe sent to Landmarks Depart-

El Centro, California, and mustthe magazine office by May 20 to be eligible for theThe winning answer will be published in the July

of the Desert Magazine.

Arizona Pioneers Elect Officers

Meeting in 18th statewide reunion, Arizona Pioneers association

B. Orme president. Miss Sharlot M. Hall of Prescott wasW. W. Brookner of Globe, veteran secretary

are J. P. Ivy, Tolleson; Dudley Lewis,

and Frank M. Poole, Superior. A merry old-time dance

the pioneers' convention, as trail blazers showed their skill in

and reels.

At many of the national parks and monuments visitors will payhigher entrance fees in the future as a result of new regulationsannounced by Secretary Ickes of the Depar tment of Interior.

Ickes stated that while it is not intended that the park serviceshould be fully self-supporting, the new schedule of charges willenable "the national parks to do their share to reduce the cost ofgovernment."

Western parks and monuments affected by the new order are thefollowing:

Rocky Mountain and Grand Teton parks—A permit fee of $1.00a year to be collected from each automobile.

Yellowstone park—Fee will remain at $3-00 a car. No additionalfee will be collected from those passing from Yellowstone intoGrand Teton park. Motorists entering Yellowstone by way of theGrand Teton will be given credit for the $1.00 fee already paid whenthey reach the Yellowstone entrance.

House trailers—For the first time, an additional fee of $1.00 willbe charged for house trailers in parks where motor vehicle licensesar e now collected. In monuments the additional fee for house trailerswill be 50 cents. i

Zion and Bryce canyon parks—One fee of $1.00 will admit a carto both parks.

Carlsbad caverns—Elevator fees are reduced from 50 cents foradults and 25 cents for children, to 25 cents and 15 cents respectively.

Mount Ranier park—Registration fee of $1.00 will be charged

mountain climbers who ascend the peak.Colorado National m onument, Craters oj the Moon monument in

Idaho, Devils Tower monument in Wyoming, Petrified Forest monu-ment in Arizona, and Lava Bed and Pinnacles monuments in Califor-nia—A motor license fee of 50 cents will be charged in the future.

Montezuma Castle in Arizona, White Sands in New Mexico andcertain other monuments—An admission fee of 10 to 25 cents eachfor adults will be charged.

Casa Grande and Tumacacori in Arizona and Aztec Ruins, Bande-Her, Chaco canyon and El Morro monuments in New Mexico— Aguide service fee of 25 cents will be charged for adults.

In parks and monuments where motor fee is charged the accommo-dations provided by the park department include camping facilit ies,wood, water and comfort stations and guide and lecture service.

SOUTHWEST ALL- INDIAN

P O W W O W !Am ericas Greatest Indian C elebration

F l a g s t a f f , A r i z - J u l y 2 - 3 - 43 AFTERNOONS — INDIAN RODEO

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19 3 9 37



-fjete and iltete. . . ON THE DESERT

ARIZONA

Tucson . . .Papago Indian history is recorded on

a "living" calendar stick received in Aprilat the Arizona state museum. In carvedsquares on the five-foot piece of woodnotches and symbols tell of Mexican andApache wars, feast days, the Sonoran earth-quake of 1887, election of tribal chiefs,coming of the railroad to Arizona, the NewDeal Indian program, bir ths and deaths,including fatal automobile accidents of1 9 3 8 . Jose Maria, historian of his people,carefully copied the history on anotherstick, before presenting the calendar to themuseum.

G r and C anyon . . .Congress has decided and President

Roosevelt has agreed that Pima, an Arizonamule, is worth $125. The nation's chiefexecutive signed a bill passed by the Houseand Senate, to pay to Fred Harvey Trans-portation company this amount for P i m aa jughead killed while packing supplies toa CCC camp in Grand Canyon. The FHTcompany had leased Pima to the nationalpark service.

Tuba City . . .N e w and better dinosaur tracks have

been uncovered 2-1/2 miles from here on theOraibi road. Ray Honakuku, Hopi Indian,prying up layers of pearl grey sandstonefor building, discovered in a small areaabout 21 prehistoric footprints, perfectlypreserved, undetermined numbers of im-pressions on all sides. Tony Richardson saysthey are Arizona's biggest and best.

Flagstaff . . .The story of an Eleventh century land

rush was told by Prof. J. C. McGregor ofArizona State Teachers college, when themuseum of northern Arizona was openedhere April 1 for the summer season. Winonavillage was the subject. Materials from theWinona excavations, started several yearsa g o , were on exhibition. Fine specimens ofpottery and other interesting objects werefound by the diggers. The museum, opendaily to visitors, draws thousands of travel-ers every season.

G r and C anyon . . .Additions to hotels and new camp cabinsat Grand Canyon will be built this summer.Enlargement of Bright Angel Lodge diningroom and of the dining room at El Tovarhotel; construction of nine 4-room cabinsin the camp grounds ; new quarters for In-

dians at Desert View, and walks and pathsaround Bright Angel Lodge are planned.

Holbrook . . .Federal aid for wild turkeys is provided

in a project approved by U. S. biologicalsurvey. Once abundant, valuable source offood for early explorers and settlers inArizona, this game bird is now very scarce.It is proposed to trap live turkeys in sec-tions where they are found, transfer them

to favorable environment in Coronado andCrook national forests. One-fourth of thecost will be paid by the state, three-fourthsby congressional appropriation. To Arizona$18,611.66 has been allocated.

Flagstaff . . .

During the past 30 years G. A. Pearsonhas cared for trees growing in 4,000-acreFort Valley experiment forest near Flag-staff. He has encouraged young growth,fought tree parasites. He is senior silvicul-turist of the Southwest Forest and RangeExperiment station. Now, for the first timein Arizona history a large area of forestwill be re-logged, giving an estimated har-vest of 1,200,000 board feet of lumber.Growth of trees has averaged about oneand one-half inches in diameter every 10years since he has been nursing them, Pear-son says, or 86 board feet per acre peryear. This method of re-cutting improvesquality and quantity of trees, may increaseacre yield.

Phoenix . . .Just because he is 89 years old, pioneer

George N. Putnam wants to know "why inhell" should he be barred from getting aj o b . George called on Governor Jones tofind out. "Feel my muscles," he demanded.The governor said they felt like rawhide.In 1867 Putnam says he made a t r ip toArizona with a wagon-train. Since 1875he has been an Arizonan. "I'd like to getback to work," he insisted. "Every time Ige t a chance, they tell me I must registerwith WPA and I was kicked off WPA be-cause they said I was too old." He walksback and forth to Prescott, 41/2 miles fromhis home, "all the t ime."

Barstow . • .The desert tortoise managed to exist for

several millions of years without protectionof the law, but ever-spreading tentacles oflegislation have finally caught up with him.California's legislature has passed, GovernorGilbert Olson has signed an act forbiddingsale of this unchanging inhabitant of achanging world. In Barstow one effect: Con-testants will have to hunt up their own en-tries for the annual tortoise race.

El Centro . . .Imperial valley's first crate of cantaloupesin an annual $10,000,000 melon deal hasgone by air express to President Roosevelt.Shipper was Charles Freedman, El Centrogrower, who has sent to the White Houseduring the past nine years first melons ofthe season each year to the occupant of theWh ite House. Imperial cantaloupes areshipped to practically every state in theUnion and to Canada and Mexico. Peakshipment on record: 600 carloads in 24hours.

Blythe . . .Palo Verde will harvest seed from 10,000

acres in alfalfa during 1939 season, accord-in g to recently completed survey. At an av-

erage yield of 250 pounds of seed to theacre, produc tion may total 2,500,000 pounds.Mint is a new crop in the valley. J. B.Japua's 20-acre ranch, farmed by F. C.Scheppelee, is planted in mint. Leaves willbe processed for mint oil.

Coachel la . . .Riverside county's monument to Captain

Juan Bautista de Anza, first Spanish ex-plorer of the Colorado desert, is takingshape. A bas-relief base depicts events dur-in g the second De Anza expedition fromTubac to California with animals and colo-nists. Sherry Peticolas is carving a 19-footfigure of the explorer. It will be raised inNewman Park at Riverside.

CALIFORNIAIndio . . .

Colorado River and Salton sea area, com-prising California fish and game district No .2 2 , will be closed to bass fishing untilM ay 29. This warning from fish and gamewardens follows on reports of catches inthe river. It is also unlawful to fish within150 feet of a dam. Violators are subject tominimum fine of $25.

Palm Springs . . .Two groups of native Washingtonia palm

trees, now standing in Coachella valley, willbe dug up and transplanted at the northentrance to the city of Palm Springs. The

palms are more than 35 feet high, weighabout 40 tons. They will be set on bothsides of the highway, in landscaped parks30 by 100 feet. Around them will be plantednative desert flowering shrubs and plants.They were bought by Thomas O'Donnell ,presented by him to the city.

Independence . . .A summer ski school on the rooftop of

North America overlooking the desert! HansGeorg will be instructor for students inskiing on the high slopes of Mt. Whitney .Snow remains there all summer long.

Palm Springs . . .Voters will decide on June 21 whether to

disincorporate or to retain Palm Springs'

status as a municipality. City council hasadopted resolution calling an election. Be-cause most of its winter residents will besomewhere else by mid-June absentee bal-lots will be a factor in the result.

NEVADAElko . . .

Wild horses in Nevada are property ofthe state. Mustang hunters must post $2,000bond and get permits from county supervis-o r s . This opinion from the attorney generalfollows an episode in which Sheriff C. A.Harper got an order to restrain horse hunt-ers after they had caught 50 mustangs. OnHarper's instructions the horses were re-leased.

Las V e gas . . .Snowfall on Charleston mountain is be-

low normal. This indicates a drier season forth e Las Vegas area, says Forest Ranger R.

C. Anderson.G e n o a . . .

University of Nevada press club in Aprildedicated this plaque here: "Nevada's firstnewspaper, The Territorial Enterprise,founded at Genoa, December 18, 1858.Mark Twain began his career as a writeron its staff. Placed December 18, 1938,University of Nevada Press Club."

Tonopah . . .Emery Johnson, Gilbert mining man

t rades Nevada turquoise to New MexicoIndians for blankets, rugs and other items.Returning from a recent tour of his t radingterritory, he complains bitterly of taxes. "Iwas forced to pay a tax in New Mexico onturquoise traded to the Indians and the In-

dians were forced to pay a tax on rugs andblankets they turned over to m e. The Ameri-can people are tax crazy from Washingtondown to the city council of the smallestcross roads town," he opines.




NEW MEXICO. . .

Prairie schooners still navigate the plainsfrom Kansas. Over Raton Pass, where pio-neer emigrants once passed through thefamous tollgate operated by Uncle DickW ooten , a horse-drawn covered wagonrolled recently. Tw o Stafford, Kansas, resi-dents said they had traveled three weeks toreach the pass. They are enroute to Los An-geles, average 20 miles a day.

Santa Fe . . .Finest example of early American church

art. Experts so rate a great stone reredos,carved in the 18th century by unknown NewMexico craftsmen. First authentic recordindicates the reredos was placed in the mili-tary chapel on the south side of the SantaFe plaza, when it was built some time be-fore 1760, as the gift of the governor,Francisco Antonio Marin del Valle and hiswife. Preserved in the local cathedral sincethe military chapel was sold, the reredosnow will be placed behind the altar of thenew Catholic church here. Plans were an-nounced by Archbishop Rudolph A. Gerken.

Gallup . . .Movie invasion of Navajo Indian reserva-

tion social events is planned by the Indianservice. A mobile motion picture unit,equipped with sound apparatus and screen,will be sent to Indian gatherings this sum-mer. It remains to be seen whether theNavajo will forsake his tribal dances forHollvwood studio offerings.

Albuquerque . . .A church built on a metal trailer, for

use on the Navajo Indian reservation, wasdedicated here by Archbishop Rudolph A.Gerken. It can be drawn by an automobile.Clamshell doors at the rear open so thatthe upper door serves as a roof over thepr ies : saying mass. Lower door acts as aplatform. Just behind the doors is the altar.Behind it are l iving quarters for two men,including kitchen, dining space and twober ths .

UTAH

Cedar City . . .Forty markers will be placed during 1939

along Utah highways commemorating out-standing events in Utah history. At each sitetwo pillars of native rock, 9 feet high and9 feet apart, will support a wooden slabcarrying a carved inscription. Locations an-nounced in vicinity of Cedar City: firstiron mills in the west; south rim of greatbasin, north of Kanarra; For t Harmony

Indian mission, south of Kanarra; historicPine valley mountain, south of H ar r i sburg ;pioneer cotton mills, south of W ashing ton ;St. George temple, east of St. George.

Vernal . . .Daggett county's history is a project of

WPA wri ters . This is youngest of all Utahcounties. Census reports population 411, allwhite . It is one of eight Utah counties with-ou t a railroad. There is no telegraph andonly one telephone, no newspaper, no bank.

Zion Park . . .Timpanogos cave was opened for the

season April 30. A mile-long trail leads tothe entrance, with splendid views of Ameri-can Fork Canyon along the way. Visitors

pass first through Hansen cave, then throughMiddle cave into Timpanogos. New indirectlighting reveals beauty of a half-mile ofunderground formations. Stalactites andstalagmites in great variety are describedwith such names as the Great Heart of Tim-panogos, the Jewel Box, Chocolate Falls.

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H O O F S AND HOR N S

P. O. Box 790 Tucson, Arizona

N A M E

ADDRESS

D e s e r t P l a c e N a m e sMagazine is indebted to the research work done by the late Will C. Barnes,author of "Arizona Place Names;" to Frances Rosser Brown of New Mexico,to Margaret Hussmann of Nevada, Hugh F. O'Neil of Utah, and to JamesA. Jasper of Los Angeles.

ARIZONA

B R A D S H A W M O U N T A I N SYavapai county

South of Prescott. After W illiam D .Bradshaw, an early miner here. "He ranfor delegate to Congress in July 1864 as aDemocrat against Charles D . Poston, Re-publican, wh o defeated him," according toMcClintock. C. G. Benung says, "Brad-shaw committed suicide at La Paz in 1864and is buried there. He operated a ferry atLa Paz for some t ime." Hinton writes thatthere were three Bradshaw brothers, Will-iam, Ben and Ike and that they went toArizona in 1863.

ACU A CAL IENTE Maricopa county

Sp. "hot water." Village and hot springsabout 3 miles north of Gila river. Springs

noted for curative value in certain diseases.In 1699 Father Kino visited the place.Poston writes in Apache Land:

"Agua Caliente, in Spanish called,A spring that healed e'en them that

crawled."MISSION CAMP Yuma county

Station on old Butterfield stage route 32miles east of Yuma. From here a road ledsouth to the Papago country and into Mexi-co. Charles D. Poston writes in A P A C H EL A N D (he was t raveling east from Yuma):

"Our first night was in Mission campW h e r e the river bed was somewhat damp."

CALIFORNIAM E Y E R S C A N Y O N

Imperial and San Diego countiesThis canyon derived its name from Doc.

Meyers, who owned the ranch on whichHulburd Grove stands near Descanso.Meyers ran a few cattle, but his range waslimited and in scouting around for feed inthe late 90s, he located a cow camp in thecanyon. In 1903 Doc located a hyacinthmine, producing gem stones of good qual-ity, on the ridge between this canyon andDevil's canyon. In 1902, S. L. Ward, countysurveyor, and James Jasper explored Meyerscanyon on foot, hunting a better route thanDevil's canyon for the road from Imperialvalley to San Diego. They found it, Jasperreports, but the county road funds werelow and the cost was then prohibitive. "Inthe first decade of the present century,"says Jasper, "a committee of San Diegocitizens headed by Col. Ed. Fletcher andFred Jaction raised $65,000 by public sub-scription and opened the first canyon road.Later it was taken over by the state andsince then it has been improved greatly,from time to t ime." The state is spendingnearly $500,000 on grade improvementsnow, on the road from the valley to theto p of the mountains, leading to San Diego.

YU HA VALL EY Imperial county

"I t is too bad," says Jasper, "that the

origin of Yuha seems buried in oblivion. Itwould be better to go back to its more eu-phonious, original name, Posas de SantaRosa de los Lajas, given by Captain Anzain 1774, meaning "the puddles of SantaRosa flat rocks."

NEVADA

DA YT ON Storey countyOriginally known as Hall's Station be-cause the little settlement was started bySpafford Hall when the Mormons began aditch to divert water from the river to theplacer mines in Gold canyon. In 1854, hesold his interests to James McMarlin, hisclerk, and it w as known as McMarlin 's Sta-tion. Then Chinese came to aid in buildingthe ditch and it was known as Chinatown.After the rush to the Comstock began thewhite inhabitants named it Mineral Rapids;for a brief time it was known as NevadaCity and in 1861 it received its final chris-tening, in honor of the surveyor wh o laidou t the townsite. Today it is just anotherghost town with a small population whichgains its livelihood principally from ranch-

ing and sheepraising.• • •

NEW MEXICOCUBERO Valencia county

This community was named for Gov.Pedro Rodriguez Cubero, who succeededDon Diego de Vargas in 1696, as governorof Ne w Mexico, after de Vargas had re-conquered the province following the In-dian revolt of 1680.Pueblo ruins aboundin the vicinity and pottery fragments foundthere have a glaze not unlike that of Pu-ye.Whi le Cubero was governor the Hopi vil-lage of Awatobi was destroyed because itsinhabitants had received Spanish mission-aries favorably. Their Hopi neighbors, de-

terminedto

protectthe

native religion fromforeigners, attacked Awatobi while the menwere in the kivas and threw burning brandsdown on them. Every male was killedwomen and children were taken captive. DeVargas had expected re-appointment to thegovernorship, and his commission from theKing of Spain was on the sea when theviceroy sent Cubero to take the job. Cuberofined de Vargas 4,000 pesos and sent himto prison for three years before the King'scommand was received, offering de Vargasa patent of nobility for his work in sup-pressing the revolt.

• • •

UTAHGREEN RIVER Dagget t and Uintah counties

Originally called the Prairie Hen or Seed-skeedee river by the Indians. In the 1820s,Will iam Ashley, fur t rapper and t rader,came down this river and named it afteron e of th e men in his party. Th e Suck, inthe Flaming Gorge Canyon of the Greenriver was named by James P. Beckwourth,a negro in Ashley's party. Frightened by thetossing, swirling waters as the boats spedinto the gorge, Beckwourth left the partyand watched them disappear around thebend. He was sure they were drawn into awhirlpool of some kind, possibly into anunderground river.

GR AN D-D AD DY LAKE Duchesne countyDerived its name from the fact that it is

the largest of many lakes found in the

vicinity. George Beard of Coalville, on atrip to the then unnamed lake, met a partyof United States government surveyors andmentioned that the lake they were visitingseemed to be a grand-daddy of them all.The name stuck.




S no w C reekan J a c . . .

{Continued from page 15)

A. The trail down the south side is

Near Idyllwild we began to meet a few

When we reached the little rutted road,

Shortly our friend arrived, and in high

We had one more tale to tell of Snow

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collection of 15 different species of

desert gems and minerals. Attrac-

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quartz, dumortierite, petrified wood,

marcasite, turquoise, agate, jasper,

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ian, and gold ore.

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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.

POINTS OF INTEREST

CATHEDRAL CITY, California: The DesertVillage. A quiet place to live under thelife-giving sun. 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.

SCHOOLS

THE TRAILF1NDERS CAMP, an al l -summercamp in the San Gabriel mountains. July6-August 24 . Coconino Camping Trip, asix-weeks trip throug h the Gran d Canyon

country, and following the trail of KitCarson. The Trailfinders School for Boys,Harry C. James, Headmaster, 650 EastMaripo sa Street, Altadena , California.

INDIAN RELICS

I N D I A N RELICS, beadwork, coins, books,minerals, gems, old glass, dolls, miniatures,photos, stamps, bills. Catalog 5c. IndianMuseum . Northbranch , Kansas.

DESERT MUSEUM

A N T E L O P E V A L L E Y I N D I A N M U S E U M21 miles east of Lancaster. Be sure to visit

this interesting place. See the relicsof primitive man; how he lived,iought and died.

Camp Grounds — Cabin — Pic-nic Tab les. "Com e and Spend theDay." Director: H. Arden Edwards

Resident Curator: R ex Johnso n, Mail Ad-dress: Lancaster, California.

GEMS AND MINERALS

RARE crystal lized Cerargyri te (Hor nsi lver)specimens from Calico. Prices from $1.50and up postpaid. Money back guaran ty.—Larry Coke, Box 47, Yerm o, California.

ARIZONA POLISHED STONES and spec i -mens for sale. Azurite $2 lb.; Malachite$1.50 lb.; Chalcedony "desert rose" $2 lb.;Chrysocolla $5 to $25 lb.; Geodes 50c andup. Postage ext ra. E. P. MA TTE SON , Rt .9, Box 626 B, Phoen ix, Arizona .

GEM STONE CUT TIN G. Cabochon r i ngstone cut from your favorite desert agate,$1.00; Geodes and agate nodules, 2x2",sawed and one side polshied, $1.0 0; largersizes, 25c per square inch. Inspect ourstock of specimens. Send for free circulars.WA RNE R & GRIEGER, 405 Nin i t a Park-way, Pasadena, California.

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DATES

D a t e s. . . . deliciousd e s e r t co nfec-t ion. Wri te forprice lists.

MRS. FRANCES GEORGE, INDIO, CALIF.

San Antonio Date Shop

Write R. C. NICOLL, Prop. Thermal, Cal

1 9 3 9 41



O F YESTERDAY AND TO DAY—a monthly review of the best literatureof the desert Southwest, past and present.

NEW TALES OF HIDDENTREASURE IN THE SOUTHWEST

J. Frank Dobie writes books one cannottell others about—the reader must experiencethese adventures for himself. Those who haveread CORONADO'S CHILDREN a l readyknow how impossible it is to describe thespirit he convokes in his tales of the treasuredSouthwest.

H e not only knows how to tell a story; heha s put into tangible form the rich legendaryheritage of a golden land. In his latest book.A P A C H E G O L D AND YAQUI SILVER,published this spring by Little, Brown andCompany, are preserved, with all the colorand romance which such a setting has en-dowed them, the two most famous lost minelegends of North America—the Lost AdamsDiggings of Apacheland, and the lost Tayopamine of the Sierra Madres in Sonora—strong-

hold of the Y a q u i .To these two and the five additiona l legend-

ary tales of Mexico may be applied thesame explanation the author has given ofC O R O N A D O ' S C H I L D R E N — he has at-

tempted to interpret the historical and cul-tural significance of the traditions of Ameri-ca's lost mines and buried treasure. He adds,"I care much more, however, about the drama,

the flavorsome characters, the vast lands inwhich the riches lie hidden . . . than I careabout interpretations. Any authentic record ofthe lore of a land and a people is, after all,an interpretation. The lore that composes thestuff of this book is, irrespective of the way inwhich it is presented, a part of one of thedeepest and widest epics of North Americansoil."

The Lost Adams Diggings — one brightgolden flash of its rich treasure dazzled men'seyes and has drawn them relentlessly and for-ever to their disillusionment or destruction.A nd the lost Tayopa, fabulous storehouse ofthe kings of Spain — "It is bound up withJesuitical teachings and savage superstitions.Ir is the depth and mystery of the Sierra

Madre of the north and the secret of tribesthat seem coeval with the ageless mountainsthemselves. Barriers of tangled mountains andbarrancas . . . that cut as deep as the moun-tains are high have so isolated the setting

•td* a BOOKMINERALS AND GEMS . . .

G E TT IN G A CQ UA IN TE D W I T HM I N E R A L S , G. L. English. Fine in-

troduction to mineralogy. 258 illus-trated, 324 pp $2.50

L E G E N D S OF G E M S , H. L. Thomson.Elementary principles of gems andgem-cutt ing. 136 pp $1.25

H A N D B O O K FOR THE A M A T E U RL A P I D A R Y , J. H. H o w a r d . One of the

best guides for the beginner gem-cutter. 140 pages. Good i l lustrat ion.at $1.75

Q U A R T Z F A M I L Y M I N E R A L S , D a k e .etc. New and authoritat ive handbookfor the mineral collector. Illustrated.3 0 4 P a8 e s $ 2 5 °

O A O 1 1 A J N U B U I AW I . . .

C A C T I FOR THE A M A T E U R , S. E.Haselton. By a ranking cacti authority.Color illustrations. Paper cover $1.00,board cover $1.50.

C A C T U S AND ITS HOME, For res tShreve. A readable book for cacti andsucculent hobbyists. Illustrated. 195pages $1.50

D E S E R T C A C T I , A. T. H e l m . Newedition of a unique booklet, illustratedwith sketches 50c

MAGAZINES . . .

DESERT MA GA ZINE Comple te Vol-um e 1 m handsome b.nder. Complete-l y l n d e x e d $ 4 - 5 0

Orders filled day received. Prices above

postpaid in U. S. A.; sales tax 3 % added

for buyers in California.

on uoutHISTORY AND GENERAL . . .

B O O K S OF THE S O U T H W E S T , M a r yTucker. 105 page bibliography. Paper

bound 75cD E A T H V A L L E Y , W. A. Chalfant. Au-

thentic history of the famous sink.160 pages, ill $2.75

DESERT OF THE PALMS, Don Admir-al. Scenic wonders of the PalmsSprings region. 56 pages 50c

DESERT ROUGH CUTS, Har ry Ol iver .Novelty booklet on Borrego Valley.64 pp $1.50

I MARRIED A R A N G E R , Mrs. W. M.Smith. Amusing experiences at GrandCanyon. 179 pages $1.00

CALIFORNIA DESERTS, Edmund Jae-8 e r - Complete information on Colo-r a d o a n d Mojave deserts. 209 pages,illustrated $2.00

D E A T H V A L L E Y , A G U I D E , Newpublication of Federal Writers Pro-ject. Very complete and beautifullyillustrated $1.00

B O R N OF THE DESERT. C. R. Rock-wood. Story of Imperial Valley's con-quest 50c

INDIANS .F I R S T P E N T H O U S E D W E L L E R S OFAMERICA, Ruth Underhil l . Life and

customs of the Pueblos. 154 pages,profusely illustrated $2.75

I N D I A N TRIBES OF THE S O U T H -W E S T M r s w M S m j t h A v i v j d

useful handbook on the desert tribes.

160 pages$1.00

DeSCTt CraFtS Shop597 State Street El Centro, Calif.

that it, like the lost mine itself, seems a storyou t of another world long vanished. Tayopais of the buried past; yet it remains the peren-nial hope of men searching today and layingplans to search tomorrow."

The publishers have added much to thedelight of the book, not only in format butby the use of the outstanding color plates andblack-and-white illustrations executed by TomLea. L. H.

• • •

BEHIND THE MASK OF

THE INDIAN TRIBESMANAs matron in the service of the U. S. In-

dian Bureau, Janette Woodruff spent 29 yearsof her life in close association with the Crowsin Montana, the Piutes in Nevada, and thePapagos in Arizona.

O ut of that experience has come INDIANOASIS—an intimate picture of the daily livesof these tribesmen, and the titanic struggleinvolved in the readjustment of their way ofliving to the white man's civilization.

Cecil Dryden collaborated with Mrs. W o o d -ruff in the wri t ing of the book, which wasreleased April 25 this year by the CaxtonPrinters of Caldwell , Idaho.

T o the Indians in her charge Mrs. Woodruff

gave sympathy and understanding, and herreward was their com plete confidence. Offi-cially, her role was that of disciplinarian. Ac-tually she was a kind-hearted missionary whomade the problems of her simple hearted pro-teges her problems.

Her book is a series of personal sketches ofthe Indians with whom she was in daily con-tact—Chief Plenty-Coups, venerable leader ofthe Crows; "Hai rp ins ," the Piute recluse;Antonio Valdez, the Papago policeman, anda thousand other characters of high and lowrepute on the reservation. We become awarethat the human trai ts of love and fear, oftolerance and intolerance, of thrift and indol-ence manifest themselves in the red race muchthe same as in the whi te .

Mrs. Woodruff takes her readers into thetepees and houses, to the games and medicinechants and dance rituals, and tells in intimatedetail and without apparent prejudice justwhat she saw. It is a masterly job of report-ing, written with a sparkling clarity whichmakes the book thoroughly informative andenjoyable. R. H.

MINERALOGY BOOKS FORAMATEUR AND PROFESSIONAL

New minerals and new classifications ofthose already known are being added constant-ly to the sum total of human knowledge in thebroad field of mineralogy.

It is to meet the need for a complete min-eral dictionary, supplementing Dana's SYS-

T E M OF M I N E R A L O G Y w h i c h was lastpublished in 1892, that George LetchworthEnglish has this year compiled DESCRIPTIVELIST OF THE NEW M I N E R A L S 1892-1938.

It is purely a technical book written foradvance students in the classification andchemistry of minerals .

For amateur gem collectors and primarystudents in the field of mineralogy, English'sprev ious book, GETTING ACQUAINTEDWITH MINERALS, publ i shed in 1934, re-mains one of the most popular textbooks ofall times written on the subject. The valueof this work to persons taking up the hobbyof gem collecting and cutt ing is that it startsat the very beginning of the subject. It is a

book for those who do not know one rockfrom another. From that point it carriesthrough to a very complete basic knowledgeof the whole wide field of mineralogy. Bothbooks are published by the McGraw-Hill bookcompany of New York .




CREED OF THE DESERT

B Y J U N E L E M E R T P A X T O N

Lightly shouldering his every care,Gaily dancing first here—then

there ;Knowing each hour fulfills his

need.This is the life of the Tumble-weed.

ff.S.R

Me an MB Y R. S. BERRY


sea,

roam,

e travel down hill an' we climb up thegrade,

1 that worries my burro an' me.

: an' my burro, my burro an' me,e wande r a-breathin' the air that is free,

we don' t mind

P R O S P E C T O R ' S P R A Y E R

B Y M A T I A M C C L F . L L A N D B U R K

Eagar, Arizona

In a cabin on the hillsideTexas lived alone,Workin' on his hopeless prospect,Hop in till his life was gone.All his life was spent in toilin'For the unseen gold,Leavin' all in life held dearest,Sufferin' things best left untold.Pore old Texas wanted fortune —All he got was dreams;Though he wanted yard-wide velvetAll he got was ragged jeans.Now he's gone, I 've kinda wonderedIn my blunderin' way.If the Maker of the spacesWill think it wrong for me to pray —"Please don' t keep Tex up in Heaven'Midst discovered gold.It would make him most unhappySo much bullion to behold.Let him slide clear down the rainbow,Seekin' for his pelf.It would make him awful happyJest to find some for himself."

N I G H T O N T H E D E S E R T

B Y R U T H W A T S O NTaos , New Mexico

Twinkle and sparkle against the sky,

Night on the desert will soon pass by.

We don' t mind the rain an'the dust,

W e eat when we can an' we sleep when wemust,

A-whoopin with joy an' a-shoutin' with gleeThere's nothin' that worries my burro an' me.

Me an' my burro, my burro an' me,We don't care a rap what the taxes may be,With no soil to till an' no factory to runWe amble along 'til the set o' the sun.The days may be hot an' the nights may be

cold,There's no one to bother an' no one to scold,A-whoopin' with joy an' a-shoutin' with gleeThere's nothin' that worries my burro an' me.

VOICE OF THE SILENCE

B Y W A L T E R H A S S A L L


There's a trail leading over the mountainTo some plains on the other side,

And it winds through vales of beautyTill it stops at a desert wide.

The sounds of nature ceaseAt the end of that path so fair,

And we enter a kingdom of silenceAnd drink of its glorious air.

Not a sound, not a breath, not a murmurAs we gaze on those shimmering sands,

Yet we hear the voice of the silenceIn those vast and lonely lands.

QUEST

B Y M A R Y M A S T E R S

Farmington, New Mexico

I tried to rest beside the sea.But waves that rolled incessantly,

Pounding the shoreWith muffled roar,

Seemed ever calling, calling me.

No rest I found in mountains high;Too close I seemed to bending sky.

From snowdrifts oldThe winds blew cold,

Stirring the pines with restless cry.Then healing silence came to meIn desert's calm serenity—

A silence blentOf warm content

And sun-distilled tranquillity.

ROSES IN THE DESERT

B Y HARLAND E. FITCH

Oceanside, California

Life has its deserts stern and grim- For those who blindly reason wh y;

They make the eyes of faith grow dimAnd drain the wells of courage dry;

But I know one who firmly standsWithout a fear of desert sands.

Who looks beyond her emptv chairs,Nor yields to loneliness of soul,

But seeing others' joys and cares,Lets human interest control,

Need have no fear of desert sands

While such ideals guide her hands.Who visions in the sunset's glow

Fine things that draw unwilling tears,And yet finds God in insects low,

And peace of mind through mounting years,Need have no dread of desert sands,For life is hers and she commands.

Who builds within her humble cotThe wealth of home, though but for one.

And finds contentment in her lot,Each day the race of life well run,

If placed where only cactus growsWould make the desert yield a rose.

• • •

YOU LIKED IT

B Y B E R T B O N D

You cried and moaned when it was hot;You thought about a cooler spot.You thought you couldn' t stand the heat;You thought you'd make a quick retreat.Bur when you thought again —You liked it.

You swore you'd never care to stay,Or even spend another day.Though days like this you knew were few.You'd keep a' thinking you were through.But when you thought again—You liked ir.

These days of heat—they soon pass by;You see anew these fields, this sky.You find no dominating cares;

There's joy of living everywhere.You didn' t have to think again—You liked it.

And so you see, dear friends of mine,You can't be happy all the time.These few hot days that we all knowAre not as bad as ice and snow.You now are glad you thought again—You liked it.

L A M E N T

BY L A W R E N C E B A R F E L L

Laguna Beach, California

The cry within the Desert 's breastIs still the age-old cry for rain.Sh e ever sighs and will not rest.The cry within the Desert's breastIs anguished till her sands are blessedAnd answered to this aged refrain:The cry within the Desert's breastIs still the age-old cry for rain.

1 9 3 43



Hatween lf& i/and M e

m

w ,

By RANDALL HENDERSON

ij Y friend Dr. E. M. Harvey of the U. S. Department of/I/I Agriculture wanted to see the native blue palms (Ery-

' thea armata) which grow just south of the internation-

al boundary in Lower California. They are one of the com-mon species of wild palms in Sonora and on the Mexicanpeninsula but I have never found one in its native habitat onthe American side of the line.

We located the palms far up toward the head of a boulder-strewn canyon—within 20 miles of the California border.They are growing in the same canyon with the Washingtonpalm so common on the Southern California desert.

We discovered an old Indian trail going up the canyon.No moccasined feet had trod that trail perhaps for a hundredyears—but the Indians have left their signposts. At intervalsalong the route were mounds of rocks—deposited one at atime by tribesmen who passed that way. Arthur Woodward

of the Los Angeles museum staff, who was a member of ourparty, told us these mounds probably have a ritualistic sig-nificance—but their exact meaning will likely remain one ofthe desert's unsolved mysteries.

Similar mounds are found in many places in the Southwest.To me they are shrines which are none the less sacred becausethe dark-skinned humans who put them there long yearsago called their deities by other names than those used byour people in this generation.

And while we are on the subject of Lower California, Ihave a reassuring thought for those good friends who are

worrying about the time when our southwestern desert coun-try will be criss-crossed with paved roads and so littered upwith picnic parties there will be no more secluded canyonsto explore. I want to assure these folks that in Lower Cali-fornia and Sonora there are great virgin deserts that remainalmost as wild and inaccessible as when Fathers Kino andSalvatierra came this way 250 years ago.

Sooner or later the field of the Desert Magazine will beextended to include features from the Mexican desert areas.In my desert travels I have found no place more fascinatingthan the arid wilderness of Lower California—but oh, theroads!

desert place names. Over in the Anza Desert state park, lessthan 50 miles from Wilhelm's scenic retreat is another can-yon the mapmakers have labeled "1000 Palms."

I believe Wilhelm has first claim on the name—at least hiscanyon is much more widely known—and a new place nameshould be given to the canyon in the park.

District Superintendent of Parks Guy Fleming has sug-gested "Cienega canyon" to replace the present name of Anzapark's 1000 Palms. Cienega is Spanish for those swampyseepage springs which occur at various places on the desert.I am not very keen for the name—it recalls the salty flavorof the drinking water almost invariably found in those littleswamps. Also, Thousand Palms canyon in Anza park hasmore beauty than the name Cienega implies.

Some of the folks in Borrego valley have suggested thatthe canyon be renamed "Salvad or" or "Linares" in honor ofSalvador Ygnacio Linares, first white child born in Cali-fornia. The birth occurred near this canyon in December1775 when the parents of the child came this way as membersof the De Anza expedition.

In the old days men went to Tombstone, Arizona, with asix-gun on the hip—and the barrooms were the most popularplaces in town. But times have changed at the old hell-roarin' silver camp. This year many hundreds of pilgrimsjourneyed to Tombstone to see the world's largest rose bushin full blossom at Rose Tree Inn. The peak of the bloom was

on April 16. I haven't seen that rose in blossom yet—butI am going there at the first opportunity. One of my friendstold me the three outstanding wonders of the Southwest areGrand Canyon, Carlsbad caverns, and the Tombstone rosebush in bloom.

It appears that Senator Henry Ashurst has lost his fight tohave the Petrified Forest national monument advanced to thestatus of a national park—at least, during the present sessionof congress. But in the long run the Senator from Arizonausually gets what he wants for his state and no doubt we'llhear more about this subject in the future. In the meantime

Documents

193906 Desert Magazine 1939 June