195706 Desert Magazine 1957 June

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f a t h e r K i n o D i o r a m a ...At the Tumacacori National Monument Mu-seum in Southern Arizona is this striking dioramadepicting Father Eusebio Francisco Kino and anIndian guide. The padre was a pioneer mission-ary explorer and cartographer whose wanderingstook him over many miles of new lands aroundthe turn of the 18th Centu ry. Pho tograp her of thisfirst prize winner is Ann Seeling of Santa Barbara,California. She use d a Rolleiflex ca m er a with3.5 Xenar len s; Plus X film; 1/100 seco nds atf. 12.5 with flash.

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

T h e J o l l y T u r k ...W. G. Carroll of Hollywood, California, issecon d prize winner this month. His photo is ofa balanced rock which bears a striking resem-blance to a smiling man wearing a turban on hishead . The figure is in the valley be low C aneSprings, about 20 miles southwest of Moab, Utah.When local inquiry produced no name for thisstone, the photographer's wife dubbed it, "theSmiling Turk."

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DESERT CflLEIlDRRMay 27-June 21Exhibition of His-toric Maps, Museum of NorthernArizona, Flagstaff.May 28-June 1Annual Grand Can-yon Tour, sponsored by the Horse-less Carriage and Antique Automo-bile Club of Tucson.May 31-June 1, 22nd Annual KidsRodeo, Alamogordo, New Mexico.June 1-2 Annual Spanish Fiesta,Morongo Valley, California.June 1-2Rodeo, Yerington, Nev.June 6-8 Kearny Entrada, Rodeoand Historic Celebration, Raton,New Mexico.June 7-9Pecos Valley Horse Show,Roswell, New Mexico.June 7-9Rodeo, Farmington, N.M.June 8Buffalo Dance, Santa ClaraPueblo, New Mexico.June 8-9Carson Valley Days, Gard-nerville-Minden, Nevada.June 9Annual Tour to the Graveof Eugene Manlove Rhodes, fromAlamogordo, New Mexico.June 10-17Cattle Tagging at Boul-der, Utah. Several thousand cattle,fresh from winter range, arebranded, vaccinated and madeready for the summer range.June 12 La Loma Fiesta of St.Anthony, Taos, New Mexico.June 13 San Antonio de PaduaCorn Dance, Taos, New Mexico.Also celebrated in other northernrural villages.June 13-16 Cherry Festival, Ban-ning-Beaumont, California.June 14-1610th Annual New Mex-ico State Championship HighSchool Rodeo, Santa Rosa.June 20-22Amateur Rodeo, Vernal,Utah.June 21-23 Junior Rodeo, Globe,Arizona.June 22-23 Lions Indian CapitalChampionship Rodeo, Gallup, N.M.June 23 Corpus Christi Sunday.Outdoor religious processions fromSt. Francis Cathedral and CristoRey Church, Santa Fe; GuadalupeChurch, Taos; and Old Mission,Ranchos de Taos, New Mexico.June 23-24Rodeo, J31y, Nevada.June 24Annual Fiesta and Cere-monial Dances, San Juan Pueblo.Corn Dances at Taos and Acomapueblos, New Mexico.June 24-July 5 Southwest Writers'Workshop, Arizona State College,Flagstaff.June 27-29 Rodeo, Lehi, Utah.Miniature Parade on 27th and 28th;Stock Parade on 29th.June 29San Pedro's Day Dancesat Laguna, Acoma, Santa Ana, SanFelipe, Santo Domingo, Cochiti andIsleta pueblos, New Mexico.June 29-30 S ilver State Stampede,

Elko, Nevada.June 30Procession of La Conquis-tadora, Santa Fe.

V o l u m e 20C O V E RP H O T O G R A P H YC A L E N D A RP O E T R YS C I E N C ER E C R E A T I O NH I S T O R YEXPERIENCEE X P L O R A T I O NF O R E C A S TN A T U R ER E C L A M A T I O NC L O S E - U P SFIELD TRIPC O N T E S TLETTERSTRUE OR F A L S EF I C T I O NP E R S O N A L I T YREPTILESN E W SM I N I N GU R A N I U MH O B B YL A P I D A R YC O M M E N TB O O K S

JUNE, 1957 N u m b e r 6Chipmunk, By W. W. RATCLIFFPictures of the Month 2June events on the desert 3Sunsets, and other poems 4Where Scientists Work Above Timberline

By NELL MURBARGER 5Mountains Are For Everyone

By LOUISE TOP WERNER 10Judge Roy Bean's CourthouseBy JOSEF and JOYCE MUENCH 11

Flash Flood! By DEE TRIPP 12Vacation in Baja Cal ifornia

By C. R. APPLEBY 13Southwest river runoff predictions 16The Upside Down Mojave River

By EDMUND C. JAEGER 18Glen Canyon Dam Contract Awarded . . . . 20About those who write for Desert 20Garnets in the Inkopah Gorge

By WARNER G. TILSHER 21Picture-of-the-Month Contest announcement . . 24Comment from Desert's readers 24A test of your desert knowledge 25Hard Rock Shorty of Death Val ley 26He Goes by Burromobile

By VERNE RANDALL 27King Snake Is Immune to Poison

By GEORGE M. BRADT 28From here and there on the desert 29Current news of desert mines 33Latest developments in the industry 34Gems an d Minera ls 36Amateur Gem Cutter, by DR. H. C. DAKE . . 41Just Between You and Me, by the Editor . . . 42Reviews of Southwestern Literature . . . . 43

The Desert Magazine is published monthly by the Desert Press , Inc., Palm Deser t ,California. Re-entered as second class matter July 17, 1948, at the postoffice at Palm Deser t ,California, under the Act of March 3, 1879. Title registered No. 358865 in U. S. Patent Office,and contents copyrighted 1957 by the Desert Press , Inc. Permission to reproduce contentsmus t be secured from the editor in writ ing.RANDALL HENDERSON, EditorBESS STACY, Business Manager EUGENE L. CONROTTO, Associate EditorEVONNE RIDDELL, Circulat ion ManagerUnsolicited manuscripts and photographs submit ted cannot be r e tu rned or acknowledgedunless full return postage is enclosed. Desert Magazine assumes no responsibility fordamage or loss of manuscripts or photographs a l though due care will be exercised. Sub-scribers should send notice of change of address by the first of the month preceding issue.

SUBSCRIPTION RATESOne Year $4.00 Two Years $7.09Canadian Subscriptions 25c Extra , Foreign 50c Ext raSubscriptions to Army Personnel Outside U. S. A. Must Be Mailed in Conformity WithP . O. D. Order No. 19687Address Correspondence to Desert Magazine, Palm Desert, California

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By A. MARION DURRANCETucson, ArizonaThere aresuns that set in coral seasMid shimmering waves of gold,There aresuns that setfrom mountain leasIn splendor andbeauty untold.There are suns that trail through a skyblue-green,Lonely as a desert flower,Their pathway ends in a silver sheen,Beauteous in an opal bower.But here's to the sun that shines whenThrough clouds of desert dust.Whose crimson robes burn red and glowThen fade in thepurple dusk.

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UPSIDE DOWN RIVERSBy GRACE R. BALLARDSanta Barbara, California

I came from a land where therivers flowBank full anddeep beneath willow-trees;And even in summer their crystal clearWaters are ruffled; thepassing breezeSings joyously to the laughing streamThat turns the ponderous mill-wheel'sweight;Chattering to theabundant grainLike a happy wife to hersterner mate.But desert rivers run "upside d own";Hoarding their wealth like a miser's gold;Flash-floods end drouth; but the sand-locked tideStill clutches theearth in a deathless hold.But themiracle of thedesert flowersEmerging from lands seeming parched andbrownEmancipates those sun-drenched hoursWhen desert rivers run "upside down."

Arizona Sunset. Photograph byJosef MuenchOF ANANCIENT REGIMEN

By GRACE R. BALLARDSanta Barbara, CaliforniaThis piece of broken pottery liesBeside the dusty way,Where thoughtless ones discarded it

Long since as useless waste;That which an ancient craftsman's handsFashioned from desert clay.Upon its surface, carefully,With patient skill he tracedThose sacred, ritualistic formsAnd symbols to conveyTraditions, long-forgotten byThis restless, alien race.The sun for light; the falling rain;The serpentto bewise;The sacred eye to watch men's ways;To make himrealizeThat there isnothing hid from HimWhose Word makes thunders wakeThe flash of lightning's sword, whose wrathIn fear makes mountains quake.How quiet, now, this fragment lies;Of an ancient regimen;Still dignity attends its formCasket of vanished men.

SAND-BORN COLORSBy BLANCHE M. ASHBYLos Angeles, CaliforniaI love the sand-born colorsOf desert flowers, bright and gay.Brilliant reds anddainty pinks,Gay yellows anddeep purples,

Blue and goldAnd mauve and gray.They linger in the sunsetThen steal silently away,Till morning sunawakens themIn desert flowersanother day.

By TANYA SOUTHI'd rather do mydaily taskWith courage, strength and will,Nor other privileges ask,Save God's design to fill,Than have much splendid worldrenown,Or worldly power andpelf.Th e onetrue spiritual crownIs goodness in oneself.

REPOSEBy E. A. GLANTZPalm Desert, CaliforniaOn thepathless sands of thedesertThe feet of time shall cease.Mutation's urge will not divertThe spirit's quest for peace.It is notprogress here westress,Nor the lure of pleasure's bait;Only a sense of timelessnessTo calm us while wewait.Serene, wefold our hands, andmuse,Until the storms are past,While others, made for sterneruseStand up against the blast.This passive mood may not appealTo them in troubled times;But one whose wounds are yet to healMust rest "behind the lines."

THE TRAMP DOGBy LUCY JANE BULLOCKLong Beach, California

How did you make your wayAcross the burning sand?We tried to understandAs quivering with joyWith laughter in your eyesYou sensed our deep surprise.What made us take you in?Your trust andfaith in man,Your need to join hisclan?Or did you fill a placeLeft empty 'til youcame?Was comradeship your aim?

DESERT MAGAZINE

Sunsets

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W h e r e S c i e n t i s t s W o r kA b o v e T i m b e r l i n eBy NELL MURBARGERPhot ographs by t he au t horMap by Norton Al len

ETW EEN OW ENS and FishLake valleys on the California-Nevada boundary, the WhiteMountains rise to a height of two-and-a-half milestheir gaunt flanks rentby steep canyons, their summits sownwith brown m alpais. In years past,when business took me into the valleysbelow this range, I looked curiouslyat that aloof barrier and wonderedwhat secrets it held, remembering thatfolks had said this was "good countryto stay out of."

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Last summer while crossing thesouthern tip of the Whites on the sunnyjuniper-fringed road between Big Pineand Lida, I was thinking of that highdesolate desert range spreading awayfor 50-odd miles to the north. Then ,almost before I knew it, Temptationtook the wheel and my car wasbumping over the trail that leads northfrom the summit of Westgard Pass!The little sideroad climbed doggedlythrough juniper and pinyon forests andpast wild gardens splashed with pen-

stemons, paintbrushes and lupines.After the needle on my altimetermoved from 7276 feet at the pass to9000 feet, the steep narrow road be-

Sheltered from ocean - breds torms by the nearby High Sierras,the 14,240 foot White Mountainson the California-Nevada borderafford an excellent vantage pointfor scientists interested in high al-titude resea rch . This is Nell Mur-barger's story of her spur-of-the-moment drive over the highestauto road on the North Americancontinent north of Mexico, to th escientific stations on the loftymountain.

gan skirting high windswept promon-tories from which 1 could sec all thesprawling length of Owens Valley, anda whole necklace of majestic peaks inthe white-topped Sierra 30 miles tothe west. My car had been pullinghard in low gear for several miles andthe altimeter was hovering around 10,-000 feet, when I seemed to burst intoanother w orld! It was an impossible,impractical, outer-space world, fabri-cated of stone and snow, sky and

Dr. G. Ledyard Slebbins, right, and Joshua Lee, both of the University of Californiaat Davis, plant high elevation grasses above timberline on White Mountain.

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space, andendlessness andtimeless-nessall wonderfully big and fright-ening, and terribly beautiful.For three days I prowled theroofof this strange lofty land. I crossedJuly snowbanks to photograph deli-cate Alpine plantsand from themlooked down upon the parched boraxflats of southwestern Nevada, 9000feet below! The highest auto road onthe American continent north of Mex-ico took me to the second highestresearch station in theworld.The onequality about theWhiteMountains that pleased and thrilledme most during my three-day stay wasfinding them open andquiet, and mar--iTO TONOPAH

velously bare of humankind and clut-ter! Inall the 600-square-miles of thisrange there isnot one townnot evena gasoline station. Neither are thereski runs, dude ranches, fishing orhunt-ing lodges, riding stables, boating orswimming, improved campgrounds not a mile of hard-surfaced road savethat over Westgard Passand all thepermanent residents inthe range couldbe evacuated in onetruck load!Most of these folks are in the em-ploy ofWhite Mountain High AltitudeResearch Station, operated by the Uni-versity of California and financiallyaided by the Office ofNaval Research,Rockefeller Foundation andNational

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Crooked Creek laboratory in its setting of bristlecone and limber pines. Altitudehere is 10,170 feet.tion in 1948 was 20 degrees belowero. Summer days are pleasant andsunny, but never more than 75 de-grees in the shade; and during my Julyvisit, ice half - an - inch thick frozenightly.

Main advantage White Mountainhas over other ranges insofar as highaltitude research is concerned, is itsposition behind the so-called "rainshad ow " of the Sierra Nev ada. As amajority of storms in this section ofthe country originate over the Pacificand sweep in from the west, most oftheir moisture is deposited upon thehigh summ its of the Sierra. Only afraction is carried past that range tofall on the White Mountains and theGre at Basin area beyon d. Thu s, apoint in the High Sierra may receive400 or 500 inches of snow in thecourse of a winter, while a comparableelevation and latitude in the Whites isfortunate to receive even as much as100 inches. App roximately two-thirdsJ U N E , 1 9 5 ?

of the annual precipitation of 7 to 12inches comes in the form of snowthe remainder falling as rain duringmidsummer months when the regionoccasionally is visited by hard electri-cal storms.Use of facilities at these stations isnot restricted to the University of Cali-fornia. An y qualified un iversity in theworldany individual, as far as thatgoesis welcome to use the stationswhile conducting research into highaltitude. Fee for such use is $6 perday, which includes dormitory or tent-house lodging and three hearty meals.Additional charges are made for useof station vehicles, storage of materials,care of experimental animals and extra-ordinary use of power, fuel, equipmentor time of station personnel.Use of station facilities is availableonly through prior arrangement withthe Berkeley office. The station is notset up to handle gasoline sales or thefeeding and lodging of casual visitors.

No public facilities of any kindgaso-line, oil, tire repairs, motels or mealsare available in the entire area be-tween Big Pine and U.S. Highway 95,a distance of nearly 100 miles.Research follows no prescribedcourse. Several scientific groups havemade this their headquarters whilestudying cosmic radiation and electri-cal conductivity. Others have con-cerned themselves with the effects oflow oxygen and low temperatures onliving organism s. A t the time of myvisit, investigation was being conductedinto the keeping qualities of variousfoods stored in a cold low-oxygen en-vironment; Dr. Arthur H. Smith, asso-ciate professor of animal husbandry atthe University of California at Davis,was testing the hatching potential ofeggs produced by the experimentalpoultry flock maintained at Mt. Bar-croft laboratory; Fulton Fisher, bot-anist from Melbourne, Australia, andCarnegie Institute, was collecting spe-


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Jeep parked on 11,800 foot plateau. Highest point in range, 14,240 foot WhiteMountain Peak, is at right.cimens of the 500-odd species of plantsnative to the area; and Dr. G. LedyardStebbins, assisted by Joshua Lee andRoman Gankin, all of the Davis cam-pus, were making experimental plant-ings of timberline grasses from theAtlas Mounta ins of Spain. At the sametime, but less academically, Carl andMartin Grauer, a father-son team fromGastro Valley, were running a powerline survey to the top of White Moun-tain Peak; I was collecting notes andmaking black - and - white photos forthis article, and color slides of therange for a natural history program;and Paul Manis and Joe Wentworthwere engrossed in their 24-hours-a-day

jobs of management, coordination andmaintenance.But despite the fact that each of uswas dedicated to his individual task,we also felt a sympathetic interest to-ward work and problems of the others.We all ate at the same long table andcheerfully shared the duties of K.P.Despite the important position thisfacility holds among high altitude re-search stations of the worldand de-spite the significant research programsbeing pursued all around meI foundit difficult to tear my attention fromthe land itself, and the plants and wildlife inhabiting it.Due to excessive winds and general

Mt. Barcroft laboratory at 12,470 feet. University of California photo.

aridity, the range supports but few spe-cies of trees. Scattered sparsely overthe rounded limey hills at the head ofCrooked Creek are limber and bristle-cone pines (Pinus flexilis an d P. aris-tata) in about equal numbers; but fromapproximately 11,000 feet to timber-line at 12,000 feet I noted only thelatter species. Twisted and torturedby the high winds, their stubby deadlimbs sandblasted to gleaming white,the bristlecone pines of the WhiteMountains are as distinctive as anytree in the world. Fro m the first oneI saw, until I left the range I was fas-cinated by thembut never so com-pletely as during those moments whenI stood beneath the patriarchal bristle-cone believed to be the largest repre-sentative of its species in the world!

It is a short thick tree, its buntytrunk 35 feet in circumference at thesmallest point, and its entire heightnot over 40 feet. It is a fine stout oldfellow, and my pride in having madeits acquaintance is depreciated only bythe fact I failed to meet three othernotable bristlecones simply becausethey were not discovered to scienceuntil the month following my visit.

These last mentioned trees are muchsmaller than the giant bristlecone being only 20 to 50 inches in diameterat the base and 15 to 20 feet highbutaccording to Dr. Edmund Schulmanof the University of Arizona, they arequite possibly the oldest living thingson earth! While investigating tree ringsin furtherance of research into weathercycles of past years, he found theseancient pines breasting the elementson a high exposed ridge betweenWestgard Pass and Wyman Canyon.Their ages, established by the reliable

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tree-ring system of dating, are 4100,4050 and 4000 yearsindicating thatthis patriarchal trio may have beenbattling for existence on this wind-riven ridge for as long as 10 centuriesbefore the oldest sequoia now livingsprouted in its seed!What is believed to be the fineststand of bristlecones in the WhiteMountainsincluding the largest, butnot the three oldest treesis assuredperpetual preservation by the U. S.Forest Service which has set aside aNatural Area of 2330 acres surround-ing and embracing White MountainPeak. Near the south boundary of thistract, at an elevation of about 12,000feet, private vehicular travel is haltedby a padlocked chain across the road.Only horseback riders, hikers, station-owned vehicles and motorists havings'pecial permission of the operationsdirector and a key may proceedbeyond this point. On the second dayof my stay I accompanied the fourbotanists Stebbins, Fisher, Gankinand Leeon an all-day trip into thisarea.

With our cameras, binoculars, can-teens, lunches and collecting gearstowed in two jeeps, we set forth atmid-morning. Stopping occasionally tocollect plants and shoot picturesandonce to observe a pair of fat marmotsambling over a rock slide, and anothertime to watch the antics of a big buckdeerwe drove to Mt. Barcroft sta-tion where we tarried about an hour.While Dr. Stebbins and his volunteerassistants planted high elevationgrasses, I climbed to the rounded sum-mit of Mt. Barcroft, 553 feet abovethe 12,470 foot high station. Then wegot back into the jeeps and headed forthe still higher country beyond.

Having seen the last bristleconeslong before reaching Mt. Barcroft, theremainder of our out-bound journeywas made well above timberline in thestrangest alpine world one can imagine.Nothing about these summits suggestedthe dizzy heights and depths associatedwith moun tain climbing. As we neared13,500 feet, our road still followed thegentle undulations of the land whichcould have passed for the rolling hillcountry of Nebraska or Iowaexceptthese naked heights wore no conceal-ing cover of prairie grass, shrubs ortrees. Yet, plant life was not lacking.Botanists believe there are not lessthan 500 species of plants native tothis portion of the range above timber-line. Many of these varieties neverhave been described botanically.

Examination of the ground surfacebetween the closely-set rocks revealedthat almost every cupful of topsoilheld its abundance of vegetation wirey tufts of grass, dry mosses, coty-ledons and myriad species of alpine

Author at ba se of w orld's largest know n bristlecone pine (Pinus aristata)in White Mountains, at about 11,500 ft. Tree measures 35 feet in circum-ference at smallest point between base and crown.flowers. Few of these representativeswere more than an inch or two inheight, and some were almost micro-scopicyet, that warm July day foundeach driving forward toward its bud-ding, flowering and seeding phases inmighty thrusts of vigor aimed at com-pletion of its life cycle and perpetua-tion of its kind in the few brief weeksallotted between snow and snow.

With the long snowy Sierra Nevadashemming our world on the west, andthe bald head of White Mountain Peakat our back, we halted for noon lunchat the edge of a deep snowbank be-tween 13,000 and 14,000 feet. No rth-ward stretched the remainder of theWhite Mountain range, terminating in13,145-foot Boundary Peak, highestpoint in Nevada. Spreading to theeast were 10,000 square miles of Ne-

vada's desert mountains the SilverPeaks, the Monte Cristos, the Cactus,the Kawich, the Reveilles, range be-yond range until the rim of the worldwas lost in the blue-shadowed haze ofinfinity.From the snowbank at our feet welooked down more than 9000 feet tothe heat-shimmering flats of Fish LakeValley, almost directly below us, andon the slopes surrounding those flatswe saw pin-point clusters of trees thatmarked the home buildings of ranches,and the spidery line of the main valleyroad.In three days I had learned a little,at least, about this strange world be-yond timberline. I was glad Tem pta-tion had taken the wheel and turnedmy car into the dim dirt road thatleads upstairs from Westgard Pass.J U N E , 1 9 5 7


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Pellisier Flat, a unique strip of desert high country that rises gently from12,000 to 13,500 feet in seven miles in the White Mountains of east cen-tral California. Seen from the Nevada side. These cirques show signsof glaciation. Photo byArnold Shulman.The Deser t Peaks Sec t ion of theSierra Club, a group that makesa hobby of explor ing the desertmountain ranges of the Southwest,has scheduled a trip to this bristle-cone pi ne a rea in White Moun-t a i ns . Here is advanced informa-tion for r e a d e r s whomaywi sh tojoin t h e m .

By LOUISE TOP WERNERJUNE 8-9

Bristlecone Pi ne Area and ReedHat (11,033 ft. el.)A C C E S S I B L E O NL Y via the4* na r row, s t eep , un i mprovedroad along the backbone ofthe White Mountains. The leaderwarns that only drivers experienced inforcing their cars up such roads shouldattempt it in a stock car. Four-wheeldrive or low-geared trucks are recom-mended.Beautiful camping area at ReedFlat , at 10,000 feet. Bring water forthe entire week -end. Easy five milehike to the peak affords unsurpassedview of 85 miles of the Sierra Nevadaunder snow.

Driving: 600 miles roundtrip fromLos Angeles, via highway 395 to BigPine, California, (last gas at Big Pine)then east to the summit of WestgardPass where the party will rendezvousat 8 a.m. Saturday, to caravan fromthere up the road.Leader: Bob Bear, 1980 RangeviewDr., Glendale 1, California. PhoneTH 8-0819.The highest desert mountain in theU.S., (14,240 feet) White MountainPeak in the southern end of the WhiteMountain Range, was a favorite ob-jective of Desert Peakers until thearmed forces took it over as a stationfor high altitude research, cutting ajeep road almost to the summit .North of the peak, between it andMount Montgomery, l ies a unique bitof high desert called Pellisier Flat, astrip roughly half a mile wide andseven miles long, rising gently from12,000 to 13,500 feet. Form erly de-nuded by sheep-grazing, it is nowcoming back with carpets of miniaturealpine flowers.During several exploratory trips intothe area the Desert Peakers identifieddozens of plants, found a scattering ofobsidian chips at about 13,500 feet

(probably the highest ancient Indianworkshop yet uncovered in the UnitedStates), and several low, crescent-shaped stone walls of ancient vintage,such as Indians used for blinds whilehunting bighorn sheep.The Desert Peakers, through theBoard of Directors of the Sierra Club,have asked the Forest Service to setthis plateau aside as a Wilderness Area.For such high country, Pellisier Flatis easy of access. An old Indian trailcoming up the east side, from PostMeadow, Nevada, waswidened in the1860s by a lumbering concern, one ofwhose wagons may still be seensmashed against a pine just below therim of the Flat. In this vicinity growsome of the Bristlecone Pines recentresearch has proclaimed as a speciesthat may date back even farther thanthe Sequoia, making it our oldest liv-ing thing.

A road to a tungsten mine makesthe lower end of the Flat almost ac-cessible by jeep; planes have alreadylanded on the carpets of Alpine flow-ers that are trying to reclaim the soil.Unless it receives protection soon, an-other exceptional bit of desert wilder-ness will be lost to those who love toexplore the virgin mountain areas.The Desert Peakers presented to

the Forest Service a photographic ex-hibit, a botanical report and a mapmarking the proposed boundaries.When wejogged them about it monthslater, they said they had lost the data.Another file wasmade up and sent tothem. They have nowpostponed fur-ther consideration until the issuanceof a new topographic map of the area.June and July are the best monthsto hike on Pellisier Flat. The flowersare then at their best; run-off fromsnowbanks usually makes it unneces-sary to carry water. We know of noother place where mountain terrainso gently rises from 12,000 to 13,500feet.

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HISTORIC PANORAMAS IV

udge Roy Bean's CourthouseBy JOSEF and JOYCE MUENCHAt Vinegaroon, Texasrenamed Langtry, for thefamous singera shady-porched cabin keeps alive thelegal and extra-legal traditions of Judge Roy Bean,self-styled "Law West of the Pecos,"At once saloon and courtroom, the building on U.S.Highw ay 90 in west Texas is a legendary spot. Bean,

who lived from 1825 to 190 3, handed down u north o-dox legal decisions with a free hand, often fining culpritsa roun d of drinks for the assembled crowd. Wh etherprejudiced or wise, this flamboyant pioneer character

had a share in stabilizing life on the frontier and thelegends which grew up around his memory are full ofa salty and authentically western flavor.This simple wooden structure symbolizes in the ex-treme the raw west's early attempts at meting justice.Tragic errors and brilliant horse sense decisions were

all in a day's work for the early judges.Lily Langtry, whom Bean so admired, accepted hisinvitation to visit the town named for her, but after thedeath of the Judge.U N E , 1 9 5 7


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L I F E ON THE D E S E R TF L A S H F L O O D !

When the vagrant rains come all at once , thedry washes quickly overflowtheir banks andbecome madly rushing rivers. For theTripps, flash flood hadm e a n t a fewwashed-out roads and an uprooted shrub or twountil the sum-mer cloudburst filled thecanyons above t he i r home andsent a surging torrentupon them.By DEE TRIPP

7H E M O O N was shining brightlyover the Arizona desert thatwarm summer evening severalyears ago-an evening I shall neverforget.My husband Roger, our 11-year-olddaughter, Barbara, and I had gone fora refreshing swim in one of the stockponds on our ranch. They were over-flowing with the precious liquid usu-ally so scarce on the desert, for thesummer rainy season had begun. Atmidnight we returned to the ranchhouse, removed the canvas coversfrom ouroutdoor beds andclimbed in.Another wonderful day had ended,I thoug ht. This was the kind of lifewe had dreamed of living during thecold foggy days and nights we spentin San Francisco before buying theranch. Our home was 35 miles fromPhoenix, the last 10, rough dusty milesfrom Highway 80.It had been love at first sight forboth Roger and I when we found this160-acre piece. The land looked asthough it had been lying here throughthe ages waiting for us. The valleystretched before it, as level as a tablefor miles andmiles to the hazy moun-tains in thedistance that formed a rain-bow-shaped range around us. To theeast were the highest of these moun-tains, the Estrellas, and like the othersthey were hazy, barren and blue ex-cept when gilded by the desert sunrise.We constructed a simple woodendwelling on the bank of the WatermanWash which cut through our property,and now our small ranch was ourhome .About twoo'clock that morning wewere awakened by big raindrops pelt-in g our faces. We scrambled out ofour cots, covered them with a tarp andran laughing into the house. Rain wasa blessing to this arid land. By theflashes of lightning through our win-dows we groped our way to our bed-rooms and soon were lulled back tosleep by the soothing sound of rain.At four that morning we were

startled by what sounded like oceanwaves breaking against the house! In-stantly the same thought crossed ourminds. Friends and neighbors hadwarned us about building our homeclose to the wash and we had assuredthem that the water was never morethan a few feet deep even after theheaviest rainfall. But, they countered,Waterman Wash had in the past over-run its banksand we had ignoredthis admonition.And now the wash was a raging riverand with each flash of lightning wesaw the rising water threatening uswith increasing fury. The river's roargrew in intensity, and instinct dictatedour next move.

Barbara was awake now, sitting upin bed with wonder in hereyes. Roger,with a composed and assured voice,told her that we were going to wadeout to the road and that everythingwould be all right. He spoke in thesame tone he used for telling bed timestories.Her first thought was for the newdress I had just finished for her andshe sprang out of bed and ran to hercloset. With a determined fling shetossed the dress atop a pile of boxes Ihad stacked in a corner, and then tookmy hand.I glanced quietly around the room.My eyes fell on each cherished posses-sion. Ro ger turned to me and askedthat I join him in prayer. We askedG od to protect our home and to spareour lives.Flashlight in hand, Roger led us outthe back door into waist-high water.With Barbara between us we pushedforward toward higher ground and theroad, less than a mile away.At once a strong current caught usand swept Barbara off her feet. I lostmy grip on her hand and in the dark-ness she was gone. My scream waslost in the flood's din andRoger couldnot hear me. But then, in a flash oflightning, I saw Roger with Ms arm

around Barbara's waist, holding on toher tossing body until sheregained herfooting. Her little wethand wasmoreprecious to me nowthan ever and sheheld on with all her strength.We struggled forward a few moreyards and then the awful realizationthat we would not be able to walk tohigh ground came to us. The currentwas too strongthe trail too treacher-ous. Wewould have to turn back, butwhere could we go? The house stillwas standing, but it would have beentoo dangerous to re-enter. A flash oflightning silhouetted it and the big treein the back yard. Tree and houselooked as if they hadbeen companionsfor ages and were now joined as onein a desperate struggle for survival.

The tree! If it could survive, socould we! It was our only hope. Wewaded toward it. Our cocker spaniel,whom we had completely forgottenprior to this moment, swam up to usan d I took her in my arms. Then weclimbed the t ree. Darkness and rainentombed us. We could not see oneanother except when the lightningflashed.After what seemed an eternity, signsof daybreak lightened the eastern hori-zon beyond the Estrella Mountains. In

the dim light of thenew day, a familiarshrub growing in the yard caught myeye. I watched it as if it would runaway if I turned myhead. Soon moreof its leaves and stems came into viewan d I knew the waters were receding.A t sixo'clock weclimbed out of thet ree and waded to solid ground. Sur-veying the wet world around us, werealized just how close we had cometo death. Trees much larger than theon e we hadbeen in were tumbling andtossing madly in the water. Why hadour tree remained firm and sure? Whywas our frail little home still on itsfoundation? How did we escape withour lives? We had prayed; we hadasked God for these things and Heanswered our prayers.12 DESERT MAGAZINE


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The author and his wife study their road m a p .

Vacation in Baja CaliforniaIt is a long and rugged road from the U.S. border to Santa Rosaliain Baja California but for those who can accept in good spirit the bumpson the highway, and look beyond the discomforts of primitive living tothe beauty and majesty of the landscape, it Is high adventureone ofthose experiences you would not want to repeat every day, but thaiwould remain always a pleasant memory. Here is the story of whatyou would find along the way.

By C. R. APPLEBYPhotographs by the authorMap by Norton Allen5 PAR TISANS of the wilddesert peninsula of Baja Cali-fornia, my wife and I havebeen taking our annual vacations therefor many years now.We belong to that legion of Ameri-cans who have only two weeks of va-cation each year, and in the past we

had flown to Santa Rosalia, Loreto orLa Paz and depended on local trans-portation to take us to neighboringpueblos.

Last year we drove down. For thetwo-week tourist, driving this anything-but-smooth peninsular road presents adilemma: Either you drive over itsbounding surface night and day andhave no time to enjoy the country,which is no vacation; or you drive ineasy stages and fail to reach those de-lightful oasis towns south of the Viz-caino Desert, 500 road miles belowthe border.We reconciled these alternatives. In

ou r twoweeks we drove from near LosAngeles to Concepcion Bay, 700 milessouth of San Diego, and backandstill had time for fishing, explorationand relaxation. We did this by havinggood luck on the road and by crossingby boat the Gulf of California fromSanta Rosalia on the peninsula toGuaymas on the mainland.We made the trip from the U. S.border to Santa Rosalia in six days.The return drive from Guaymas tothe border took us six hours! Thisgraphically illustrates the differencebetween highway travel on the main-land of Mexico and byway travel inBaja.Not that the peninsula jaunt is suchan odyssey. It has been made bytruck, car, motorcycle, bicycle and

mule. One hardy youth, Alan Zock,walked it all the way from La Paz.But, Lower California's highwayshould not be taken too lightly. It is

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rMENSENADASANTO TOMAS

SANIGNACIO^

BAHIA DELACONCPCION

possibly the worst regularly-traveledthoroughfare for its length on theNorth American Continent . Its pave-ment ends at Arroyo Seco, 145 milessouth of theborder. From here south-ward is a potpourri of washboard,sand, powdery silt, immense cobble-stones and jagged granite. It tests themettle of any vehicle and driver.Ahead of us, we were told by therancheros we passed, was anotherparty of Americans. They were twohours away, then five, then half a day,then two hours. We caught up withthem at San Ignacio.They had been driving 18 hours aday. Blowouts had plagued them.Tires had been shredded and werereplaced at prim e effort and cost. Therewas engine trouble. Oneof thewomenin their party observed, "We brokeour rear axle. And we only had oneextra!"W e, on theother hand, had as goodfortune as they had bad. We blewonly one tire and our '53 Ford pick-up came through in perfect shape. Wedi d get stuck four times, through awant of four-wheel drive, wide tiresand good judgment, but kindly Mexi-can truckers either pulled us or helpedus dig out.W e met from two to five vehiclesa day. The meeting often called fora chat. People encountered in thepeninsular desert are friendly, honestand helpful without motive.For years travelers on the road havebeen assisted by persons like SenoraAnita Grosso Espinosa, a lady of ed-ucation and excellent command ofEnglish whoruns the store at El Ro-sario. Or the Kenneth Browns at ElMarmol . Or Manuel Ort iz at PuntaPrieta. OrCol.Harvey Greenlaw, whohas in a varied career of soldieringbeen a British pilot, a U. S. cavalryofficer, chief of staff of the famousFlying Tigers under General Chen-nault, a major general in theNational-ist Chinese Army, and who nowwatches over his mining interests in

the bleak hamlet of El Arco. Or Dr.C . S. MacKinnon at Santa Rosalia,who has lived in Baja for more than35 years andknows the central penin-sula as few men ever have.Ensenada is the last stop for sup-plies other than necessities. Thepave-ment ends 80 miles south of here.Before it reaches the coastal town ofEl Rosario the road becomes a riverof dry silt.Beyond El Rosario theCamino Realturns east and wanders down the in-terior of the peninsula. The terrain

offers a new experience to the desertfancier. The cirio forest begins, biz-arre stands of thorny plants resemblinggreat up-ended carrots {Desert, Oct.14 DESERT MAGAZINE


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' 5 5 ) . Here the giant cardons (Desert,Dec. '56) grow in profusion and theelephant trees (Desert, Nov. '56) ap-pear.Camping was a delight in the cooland quiet evenings with firelight rest-lessly playing on the pillars of the hugecardons. The morning sun, however,was slow to break through the thickPacific Ocean fog.In this country we found that a nameon the map is usually a ranch houseor at most a cluster of adobes.Just as the bleak mesas of the Viz-caino Desert become oppressive intheir monotony, the road drops intoa palm-lined arroyo of glinting bluelagoons, orchards, fields and quietstreets, dominated by the tower of amagnificent mission. This splendidlypreserved edifice, begun by the Jesu-its in 1728, gives the town of Sanfgnacio its name.Half a century ago the adventurerArthur Walbridge North, whose twobooks on Baja are regional classics,stumbled into the arroyo. He had runout of water crossing the Vizcaino andwas nearly demented with thirst. "Atthe bottom of the chasm, five or sixhundred feet below, lay a long narrowvalley of perhaps 2000 acres, withwaterpools of fine, rippling waterflowing through green masses of sedgeand palmsthousands of tal l , grace-ful palms, shading numerous thatchedhouses . . . " I doubt if there is a trav-eler who enters San Ignacio aftercrossing the Vizcaino who does not

share in some measure North's emo-tions at first sight of this lovely iso-lated inland town.Rooms are available here at CasaLeree and we paid 10 pesos, or 80cents. Frank Fischer and his son, Os-car, operate a garage in the pueblo,and are competent auto mechanics.Southeast from San Tgnacio the roadTop A hay within a bay is exquis-ite El Coyote. It is carved from thewest shore of Bahia de la Concep-tion and, as legend has it, onceserved as a haven for pirates andsmugglers.Center The splendid mission atSan Ignacio, begun by the Jesuitsin 1728 and completed by theirDominican successors. The pueblois 570 miles south of the borderand the first major settlement southof Ensenada.Bottom A portion of Baja's prin-cipal highway. Here on the V izcainoDesert the sandy roadbed is rein-forced by stalks of cordon andyucca. A little farther south, wherethe sand is just as deep, but thereare no crossties, the author gotstuck.

:

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climbs over a pass near the volcanicpeaks known as the Tres Virgenes,and then drops down to the shores ofthe azure Sea of Co rtez . A few milesbeyond is the town of Santa Rosalia,a faded clapboard monument to eco-nomic imperialism.The great copper deposits aroundSanta Rosalia were developed 60 yearsago by European capital. A Frenchcompany, El Boleo, laid tracks, builtsmelters, docks and offices, and in thearroyo laid out rows of wooden houses.They dismantled an iron church at aEuropean exposition and shipped it toSanta Rosalia.

We were repelled by our first sightof the town. Instead of the adobewalls, courtyards and rambling streetscharacteristic of Mexico, we found aline of decayed wood teneme nts. In-stead of the bell tower of an antiquemission, there was the prefabricatedchurch of iron.But Santa Rosalia is not as bad asfirst impression s would have it. It has,in fact, considerable charm . Th e peo -ple are the same here as in otherpueblos. The fishing is good and canbe pursued at nomina l expense. TheFrench have gone and Mexicans oper-ate the mines, but about the veranda

R e p o r t s I n d i c a t e N e a r N o r m a lF l o w f o r S o u t h w e s t R i v e r s . . .Generally favorable river runoffforecasts were made this month by theU. S. Weather Bureau for the majorstreams of the Southwest. Mo st of thewatershed areas received near averagerainfall in March to offset the below-average precipitation of the previousmonth .Total rainfall since last Septemberover the upper Colorado Basin hasbeen above normal over the extremeheadwaters of the Colorado Rivernear Granby Reservoir , over the upperdrainage of the Gunnison River andover the Taylor River basin in Colo-

rado. The seasonal precipitation hasaveraged below normal over the Un-compahgre and Dolores Basins in Col-orado. Near average to above averagestreamflow is forecast for the basinexcept for the Dolores and Uncom-pahgre rivers for which runoff near80 percent of the 1938-52 average isexpected. The Colorado near Cisco,Utah, is forecast to have an April toSeptember streamflow of 4,450,000acre-feet, or 99 percent of average.Streamflow of the Yampa and WhiteRivers in Colorado is expected to benear, or slightly above, the 15-yearaverage. The Green River at the Utah-Wyoming border is forecast to havestreamflow about 15 percent less thanaverage. The outlook for the DuchesneRiver in Utah is for near average flowin the extreme headwater area, withnear 70 percent of average flow pre-dicted for the lower reache s. Fo r theGreen River at Green River, Utah,April to September runoff is forecastto be 3,350,000 acre-feet or 95 per-cent of the 193 8-52 average. Runoffof the San Juan near Bluff, Utah, isexpected to be 1,680,000 acre-feetfor the period April through Septem-ber, or 113 percent of the 15-yearaverage.

Rainfall during March was abovenormal over the upper Gila Basin,near normal over the headwaters ofthe Salt and Little Colorado Basins inArizona, and below normal over theVerde River Basin. The November toJune runoff of the Little Colorado atWoodruff, Arizona, is forecast to be79 percent of average. Near 115 per-cent of average runoff is expected forthe creeks near Winslow, Arizona. Thewater-supply outlook for the upperGila Basin continues to be very poor,with forecasts ranging from 19 to 48percent of streamflow average. TheVerde Basin should have a 35 percentof average runoff.

March precipitation averaged abovenormal over the Rio Grande Basin.Near, to slightly above average Aprilthrough September runoff is expectedfor the tributaries in Colorado alongthe San Juan Mountains and for theextreme upper Rio Grande. Forecastsof April to September streamflow arelower for the eastern tributaries, rang-ing from 65 to 80 percent of the 1938-52 average flow.The water-supply outlook for the

Great Salt Lake Basin ranges fromfavorable to poo r. Foreca sts for theApril to September streamflow are:upper Provo and Weber rivers and forthe Blacksmith Fork in Utah, 95 per-cent of average; lower Provo andWeber Rivers and the Logan and Og-den rivers i n Uta h, 85 pe rcent ofaverage; upper Sevier Basin, less than50 percent; lower basin of Sevier, 60percent; Beaver River, 70 percent;Humboldt River Basin, 50 percent;Walker and Carson rivers, 65 percent;Owens River in California, 73 percent.Outlook for the Mojave Basin inCalifornia is poor with less than halfthe normal streamflow expected.

of the little hotel on French Mesa therelingers a Gallic evanescence. Perhap sit is in the odors that rise from thekitchen where the hotel's French pro-prietress supervises the finest cookerybetween Ensenada and La Paz.South of Santa Rosalia 42 miles weentered a village reminiscent of SanIgnacio. It has the same small jungleof date palms, grapes, pomegranates,

figs, mangoes and bananas lining afresh water lagoon which meets anestuary and mingles with the salt waterof the Gulf. Rare is a view of thewaterway that does not include a mul-let or two flashing above the surface.This is Mulege, as pretty a spot ascan be found on the peninsula.Two hundred and fifty-three yearsago two robust Jesuit fathers, Fran-cisco Maria Picolo and Juan Basaldua,were attracted to the river valley astheir superior, Juan Salvatierra, hadbeen two years earlier. He re they

built a mission, Santa Rosalia de Mu-lege, and its record book, a registryof births and deaths from 1718 to1 8 4 5 , is a fruitful source of peninsularhistory.

During the Mexican War of 1846-48 Mulege became a center of BajaCalifornia resistance against UnitedStates soldiery. When La Paz wel-comed an occupation by two U. S.companies under Col. Henry Burtonin 1847, outraged patriots set up aprovisional government at Mulege. AnAmerican sloop of war sailed northfrom La Paz and landed 80 Marinesnear the mou th of the estuary. TheMarines marched into town, stayed afew hours and then returned to theship. The rebels were little impressedby the maneuver and immediatelymarched south to attack the Ameri-cans at La Paz.Mulege was then known by the fullname of its mission, Santa Rosalia deMulege. But when copper began to bedug 42 miles to the north, the mineoperators appropriated all of the able-bodied Mulegenos they could lure andthe name Santa Rosalia as well.Mulege is the site of the territorialprison. Few penal institutions in theworld are governed by such an en-lightened policy, either from the stand-point of the felons or the taxpayers.The convicts sleep in the prison, butmost are freed at daybreak to workand earn their board in town. Somehave their families with them . Thereis a comfortable lodge here called ClubMulege, which offers full facilities tosportsmen.South again from Mulege is vastBahia de la Conce pcion. Its beautiful

bays and beaches marked the south-ern terminus of our trip. From herewe had only to return to Santa Rosalia16 DESERT MAGAZINE


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and catch the boat for Guaymas whoseschedule calls for two Gulf crossingsweekly. But sometimes the boat runsless regularly. Facilities on board pe r-mit one automobile to be carried eachtrip and the vehicle should not be toolong. Our pickup truck extended outover the deck railings on both sides.If you plan a trip to Santa Rosaliaallow sufficient time to retrace yourroute in the event the boat is not run-ning on schedule or cannot carry morecargo. Arrangem ents for passage canbe made in Santa Rosalia with Rigo-berto E. Garayzar, the shipping agent,or with the helpful dentist, Dr. C. S.MacK innon. Fare is approximately$50.On our way down the peninsula wemight have included a 90-mile sidetrip to that anglers' Elysium, the Bayof Los Angeles. Or we could havegone a little farther south to the de-lightful pueblos of La Purisima andCom mondu . But, we were afraid ofstretching our schedule. We had come700 road miles from the border andnow had time to fish, swim and relax.

Those who plan to travel LowerCalifornia's main thoroughfare shouldconsider the venture from three as-pects:(1) Vehicle. Take something ruggedand with plenty of clearance. A jeepor pickup are best. Four-wheel drive,while not necessary, is desirable. Mak-ing the trip in the company of anothervehicle also is desirable and contrib-utes to one's peace of mind. Includethree spare tires.(2 ) Supplies. Camping equipment,provisions, auto parts and repair geardepend on individual taste. Cannedgoods and occasionally eggs can bepurchased in the villages, but emer-gency rations are recomm ended. In-clude a minimum of five gallons ofwater (plus halazone tablets) and 15to 20 gallons of extra gasoline. Anaxe, long-handled shovel, tow chainand a chamois and funnel for filteringgasoline may be needed. On the insideback cover of "Log of Lower Califor-nia," published by the AutomobileClub of Southern California, is an ex-cellent check list of supplies.

(3) Attitude. "An adventure is onlyan inconvenience rightly considered,"wrote G. K. Chesterton. "An incon-venience is only an adventure wronglyconsidered." Something of Chester-ton's philosophy is helpful in negotiat-

ing Baja's terrain. Remember that eventhough you may have had experiencewith miserable roads, driving them forsix hours is one thing and driving themfor six days is quite another. Don'tcram your schedule to the point whereit won't adm it delays. Plan for mis-haps. Then if they are minor, you canrejoice.The summer months can be uncom-fortably hot in Baja and occasionalwinter rains make the roads impassablein certain sections. Therefore the besttime to make a trip is in the springor fall.American citizens will need a Tour-ist Card to drive south of the bordertowns. Proof of U. S. citizenship, suchas a birth certificate, and payment of$3 are the only requirem ents. Theyare obtainable at any Mexican con-sulate and are good for six-month vis-its. The Baja traveler should have asmallpox vaccination certificate to showthe U. S. border officials upon re-enter-ing this country.For those who accept its challenge,Baja California offers a vast country,some beautiful and untrammeled pue-blos, splendid fishing, and a history ofgreater antiquity than that of our ownAmerican W est. For the aficionado ofthe desert, it can hold a limitless fas-cination. And it's not far away.

At Mulege the main road meanders through palms and mangroves beside abroad mullet-crowded estuary. A mile up the w aterway from here lies theattractive pueblo of 1000 inhabitants.

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ON DESERT TRAILS WITH A NATURALIST -- XXXVIIIT h e U p s i d e D o w n M o j a v e R i v e r . . .What it lacks in size, the Mojave River makes up in a fascinatingarray of unusual attributes that have long caused travelers, explorers

and scientists to speculate and theorize. This month Dr. Jaeger takesus down the broad sandy bed of this underground-flowing stream toexplain some of these pheno mena.By EDMUND C. JAEGER, D.Sc.Curator of PlantsRivers ide Munic ipa l MuseumMap by Norton Al len

7HE MOJAVE River of Califor-nia, a mere pygmy amongstreams, presents many queercontradictions and wide variances fromthe usual ways of rivers that haveearned for it such apt names as "Riverof Mysteries," "The Inconstant River,"and "Upside Down River."Unlike most rivers it is largest nearits sou rce. A t its begin ning it is aperennial stream; at its mouth an in-termittent or dry one . It flows north-eastward for nearly 140 miles, awayfrom the ocean, and for 90 miles itcrosses a thirsty desert in which it re-ceives not a single tributary.This is a perverse, super-imposedriver, not obeying the usual laws offlowing streams. Instead of flowingaround buried rock barriers as mostrivers do, it has persistently cut a paththrough them to form several steep-walled narrows along its establishedway. It has been able to do this be-cause the whole region it traverses waselevated with extreme slowness. Itscurrents at flood tide shift restlesslylike a vagrant from side to side, scour-ing its banks rather than its broad flatbed.

For over half its length, this strangeimpoverished river flows underground,just beneath the moist sands that hideits precious water from the onslaughtof desert sun. "Upside Down R iver"it is in truth.F inal ly i t va n i s he s co m pl e t e l ythrough a double mouth into two sinksor dry lake beds deep in the desert 'sinterior, Cronise Dry Lake and SodaLake, the latter sometimes called theSink of the Mojave.Along the Mojave River's broadsandy bottom traveled in years longpast many colorful pioneers, amongthem Padre Fray Francisco Garceson his way to the San Gabriel Mis-sion in 1776. Oth er early travelersattracted to the river by its waterand forage were trapper and trailblazer Jedediah S. Smith (1826),Captain Ewing Young and theyouthful Kit Carson (1833) and ahost of mid - century immigrantscoming west to the gold diggingsand early Southern California set-tlements.Some years ago I traveled overthis historic trail, going the wholelength of the river from its source

in the San Bernardino Mountains toSoda Lake far out on the Mojave Des-ert. I saw the same sights along thetree-bordered sands of this enchantedriver that they saw and in a sense re-lived their experiences. I have traveledby foot and jeep every scenic mile of it,and of all the fascinating sights, CaveCanyon, where the river flows betweenthe Cave and Cady Mountains, is themost outstanding.Fray Garces euphoniously named i tArroyo de los Martiers, the Canyonof Ma rtyrs. Wh y he gave it this fore-boding name is a mystery. He spokeof it as a place where "grows the wildgrape; where there is much grass; alsomesquite and trees that grow thescrew."Cave Canyon gets its present namefrom the three natural caves in itssteep metamorphic conglomerate wallsat a point where the river sweepsaround a sudden circular course andmakes a kind of U-bend about a halfmile east of Afton S tation. Acc ordin g

To Death Valley -*4

\S]Silurian Lake

?? .

V\S Silverw '**&i ?/ ' 'V. BAKER

ToMninv . .

ToVictorville 6t Son Bernardino

18 DESERT MAGAZINE


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to the late Elmo Proctor, one of thesecaves was destroyed in 1904 when theLos Angeles and Salt Lake (now theUnion Pacific) Railroad bored a 542foot tunnel here to avoid going aroundthe river loop. A po rtion of this cave,it is said, still exists but is walled offby the timbers lining the tunnel.The other two caves I visited twice.They are shallow but high-ceilingedcrypts in the south canyon wall abouta quarter of a mile farther south. Theyare close together and each might offershelter in inclement weather to a dozenor more men. Since they are the onlynatural shelters for miles around, itcan be presumed that they often wereused by both Indian and white travel-ers. The roof of one still is blackwith the soot of many old campfires.Each cave is about 15 feet deep andas high. In high floods, wate r carryingdebris comes in and partially coverstheir floors. High athe l trees grow infront of these caves today.Recently two companions and Icamped in the canyon on a night whenthe moon was bright so we could lookat the cliffs in the eerie ligh t. Ne xtday we explored the canyon properand found it not to be very long, onlyabout four miles, nor is it very deep,the highest walls being not over 300or 400 feet high. But, what it lacksin extensiveness it makes up in dignityand sublim ity. It is a place of greatscenic grandeur which sharply con-trasts to the rather dull country of lowbarren hills and broad plains upriver.A sort of land of yesterd ay. An a nte-diluvian looking place where the scen-ery is at once austere and highly color-ful. At evening, just at sunset, thestrikingly beautiful banks of buff andred conglomerates glow with vividshades of golden bronze, ruddy brownsand brilliant magentas.South of the river, near where it en-ters the canyon, are a series of steepcliffs made up of the greenish sedi-ments of prehistoric Lake Manix lyingbeneath the thin layers of more recentalluvial depo sits. Some are erod ed toform fantastic columns, buttresses and

battlements of unusual scenic splendor.On the western side of the canyon areespecially beautiful beds of buff andred conglomerates.About a mile and a half east ofAfton Station where the gorge makesits rather abrupt turn to the north,there is a spectacular and beautifularea of pink, green, yellow, blue-grayand whitish rocks on the east side ofthe canyo n. Her e we found a depositof magnesite which once was mined.Some of the old mine machinery andadjoining structures of wood are

perched high on the canyon wall. Orewas transported to the railroad in carshung from a high cable and a large

coil of that cable now lies rusting onthe ground across the canyon near therailroad. The mine has not beenworked for many years.Cutting back through the deep andextensive lake clay deposits are a num-ber of mino r canyons . Several run intortuous north-south directions to endin colorful deposits of lava-cappedminerals in the higher parts of the sur-rounding mountains. Of these can-yons, Cathedral Gorge, emerging justsouth of the railroad bridge upstreamfrom Afton Station, is perhaps the mostbeautiful. Ever yw here in this side-canyon splendid views abou nd. Heretoo, we observed to advantage the waysof cliff-dwelling birds. Nests of rock

also in summer when the stream fur-nishes the only watering place in awide region of almost total drouth.Among the resident birds I have ob-served ravens, Brewer blackbirds, red-winged blackbirds, Baird wrens, housefinches and English sparrows. Duringthe migratory season I saw Savannahand Lincoln sparrows, western robinsand many warblers. Am ong stream-frequenting birds were killdeers, awood ibis, a white-faced glossy ibis,an Anthony green heron, severalegrets and the black-crowned nightheron.

For many years until reduced byhunters, a rather large band of desertsheep dwelling in the nearby barren

In many places the light-colored soils in Cave Canyon are overlaid bynear-black lava caps. Photo by the author.wrens, ravens and prairie falcons, Sayphoebes and turkey vultures are in thecrevices, niches, pot holes and shelv-ing caves of the vertical conglomeratewalls.An emerging bed of rock near thebeginning of the Cave Canyon gorgebrings the Mojave's underground wat-ers to the surface for the last time.The small stream runs throughout theyear as a "rapid rivulet, its clear watersmaking melody with the pebbly shore."It is bordered by green meadows ofcarex, salt and wire grasses and cattails.Even in midsummer there is a steadyflow. Here are scattered growths oftrees and shrubs: screwbeans, willow,sweet odored baccharis and mesquite.Their greenness always lends to theplace a lively atmosphere of cheer andfriendliness.It is a spot, as may be imagined,much frequented by birds, both landand stream-loving species. Not onlyin migratory season do they come, but

mountains came here to drink. Manyof their old trails leading off into theheights still can be seen, especially onthe eastern side of the canyon. Abov ethe river bluffs are several rock blindserected by Indian hunters.In the water of the Cave Canyonstreamlet we were surprised to findnot only the California mud turtle(Clemmys californica), but severalspecies of small gray minno ws. Theseprobably are descendants of fisheswhich have inhabited the river sincePleistocene times. The waters of thepresent Mojave River, connected intoa single flowing stream only duringtimes of floods, contain only two spe-cies of native fish. Both are minnowsbelonging to the fish family Cyprini-dae. The Mojave River chub (Sipha-teles mohavenis), adapted to life inthe ancient lakes of geological times,has persisted to the present time andnow occurs regularly with the streamminnow Gila orcuttii. The two fishes

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have interbred freely so that many hy-brid individuals, not too closely re-sembling either parent stock, are found.Some larger fishes such as the catfishhave been introduced and areoccasion-ally seen.Along the stream running throughCave Canyon's sandy bottom is oneof the best places to get acquaintedwith that remarkable small thorny-

branched tree, the screwbean mesquite,"the tree that grows the screw" ofFather Garces. In winter its gray barkand long sharp silvery thorns are very

conspicuous as are the big clusters oftightly-twisted small inch-long beansstill hanging on from the previoussummer. Thescrewbeans comprise themost noticeable woody growth in thecanyon, comparatively few willows,cottonwoods and honey mesquites be-ing present. There are low thickets offlowering salt cedars in many places.When these pink-flowered shrubs arein blossom they present a colorful sightindeed.The Union Pacific Railroad runs theentire length of Cave Canyon. On the

time tables they once advertised thisas Rainbow Gorge and forseveral yearsattached special roofless observationcars to several of their passenger trainsso passengers could better view thescenic splendors of this wonderfulgorge.There is a road of sorts from AftonService Station on Highway 91-466 tothe canyon entrance, about four milesdistant. From then on it is mostly acase of foot travel, although jeeps cango farther if they drive through sandand water.

L o w B i d f o t G l e n C a n y o n D a mI s $ 2 7 , 6 0 0 , 0 0 0 B e l o w E s t i m a t e

A New York company, Merri t t -Chapman and Scott Corporat ion, wasawarded a contract for construction ofGlen Canyon Dam on a low bid of$107 ,955 ,522 . It was $10,380,954under those submitted by three othercontracting firms and $27,652,648 un-der the estimate of $135,608,170 madeby U. S. Bureau of Reclamation engi-neers.A t the same time, the Bureau ad-vised agencies of lower Colorado RiverBasin states that larger gates capableof annually passing the entire flow ofthe rivereven in high runoff yearswill be installed in the left diversiontunnel . TheLower Basin agencies hadvoiced concern that the plan for clo-sure outlined in the bid specificationsmight be detrimental to downstreaminterests.The prime contract is the lar-gest single construction contract in hehistory of theBureau, more than doub-ling the largest previous contracts of$48,928,100 for the Trinity Dam and$48,890,995 for FlooverDam.Glen Canyon Damwill be the thirdhighest dam in the world, rising about700 feet above lowest bedrock. Hoover

D am is 726 feet high, and whencom-pleted the Mauvoisin Dam in Switzer-land will be 780 feet in height.Glen Canyon Dam will exceedHoover Dam in volume of concrete.With 4,770,000 cubic yards of con-crete in the dam proper, and a totalof 5,200,000 yards in the dam andappurtenant works, it will be one ofthe largest concrete dams in the world.The 900,000 ki lowatt power plantto be installed at Glen Canyon Damwill be the seventh largest in the world.The contractors will have 2500 daysnearly seven yearsto complete thedam, but Construct ion Engineer L. F.Wylie believes the dam may be finished

well under seven years if all goes well.He said at least one of the eight gen-erators may be in operation by mid-1 9 6 2 .The major items of work includedunder theprime contract are (1) drill-ing of left diversion tunnel, (2) liningboth left and right diversion tunnels,(3) building two coffer dams of earthto divert the river around the damsiteduring construction, (4) constructingthe concrete dam from bedrock tocrest, (5) constructing the powerhouseand related features, (6) drilling andlining the spillway tunnels and build-ing the spillways.The remote location of Glen Can-yon Dam is one of the major circum-stances to be met during its construc-tion, according to theBureau of Recla-mation. The nearest town, Kanab,Utah, is 76 miles from the damsite andthe nearest railroad at Flagstaff is 135miles away. A railhead also is avail-able at Marysvale, Utah, 190 milesfrom the Glen Canyon damsite.The cement andpozzolons (volcanicash materials) used in the concretewould require delivery of a 20-tontruckload to the damsite continuouslyfor every hour of every day for aboutfour and a half years. The steel inreinforcing the concrete, in penstocksand outlets, and in many other installa-tions, will total 35,340 tons, enoughsteel to produce more than 20,000automobiles.Here are some other statistics on thedam: its height will be 700 feet abovebedrock and 580 feet above down-stream river level; crest length is 1500feet on the arc of the crestabout1200 feet in a straight line from rim torim at abutments; base width is 300feet; reservoir capacity: 20,040,000acre-feet extending 186 miles up theColorado River and 71 miles up the

San Ju an; reservoir area : 164,00 0acres or 256square miles; elevation ofcrest: 3715feet; maximum water sur-face elevation: 3711 feet; normalwater surface elevation: 3700 feet;maximum downstream river level:3183 feet; difference in elevation, crestof dam and Glen Canyon Bridge, 113feet.

"I don't like crowded cities andhave always spent every possible min-ute outdoors," wri tes Warner G. Til-sher, author of this month's "Garnetsin the Inkopah Gorge ."An industrial and management en-

gineer in the East , he gave up hisbusiness to move to California wherehe started a small wood-working shopand went into free-lance photography.H e and his wife live in South SanGabriel and their home is surroundedby fruit, berry, vegetable and flowergardens. Their son is in the Armyreserve and their daughter is marriedto a Naval officer.* * *Dee Tripp, author of this month'sLife on the Desert feature, "FlashFlood!" was born in Savannah, Geor-gia, and educated in Tampa . Shestudied short story and article writingunder Sanders M. Cummings of Colo-rado Springs, Colorado. The Trippsnow live in Tucson.* * *Cucamonga, California, is the homeof C. R. Appleby, author of thismonth's "Vacation in Baja California."Both he and his wife are graduates ofU.C.L.A. and both served in the U.S.Marine Corps.Appleby is associated with TheDaily Report, published in nearbyOntario. His firm affection for thedesert country began 10 years agoduring his first newspaper job in theCoachella Valley.

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Inkopah Gorge. V iew is from the top oj the ridge above the scarred mountain Atlower right is the old highway which leads to the third garnet field visited by theauthor.

G a r n e t s i n t h e I n k o p a h G o r g e .By WARNER G. TILSHERP ho tog raphs by the au tho rMap by Nor ton Allen

between San Diegoand El Centro, California,scenic U. S. Highway 80 dipssouthward almost to the Baja Califor-nia borde r. In this area and almostat the highway's edge is a favored spotwhere red garnets in untold numbersawait the collectors. I have stoppedat these fields for many years now,and the supply of gem stones neverseems to run out.On our most recent visit, we droveeast from San Diego, and 75 milesfrom that city passed through the

bright little resort spa of Jacumba"Hu t-by-th e-w ater." It was pleasantJ U N E , 1 9 5 7

Whether you prefer to collectgem s tones near the roads ide orto hike up cactus-studded hills idesfor them, there is outdoor adven-ture for all in the Inkopah Gorgeon the western s lopes of ImperialCo unty , Californ ia. Far a field tripnot only rewarding in red garnetcrys ta ls , but in lovely botanicaldisplays and thrill ing desert vis tas ,follow the author 's trails in theInkopah country .

indeed, and what a welcome sight itmust have been to the desert-wearymen and donkeys of the Yuma mailline. And he re it was, over 100 yearsa g o , that a rugged citizen, James Mc-Coy, built a fort from which he heldoff 400 attacking Indians.

Leaving Jacumba the highwayclimbs a long but easy grade whichlevels oil at 3000 feet. Just beyo ndthe Desert Tower the road starts itslong glide down through the fabulousInkopah Gorge to the floor of theColorado desert.One glance at the rugged terraintold us why this highway was lookedupon as a major feat, of engineeringwhen finished in 1913. At each twistand turn of this rocky bob-sled run,the desert stretched out below us tothe bluish haze of the far off moun-tains.

_ A few miles down the g orge thehighway curves around MountainSprings, cool and invitingly green inits nest of giant boulde rs. We par kedhere, crossed the road and climbed


22/44

7.6 MILES TOCOYOTE WELLS.-. STATION

3.3 MILES TO MOUNT AIN SPRINGS5.2 MILES TO DESERT VIEW TOWER

V^ ^ r r f r - - " " " " " ^F'**

V//'.- S;- .r I M P E R I A L ' . - , ;ELCENTRO

- JACUMBA" ":.< l f |SSs : ^ P: ..'

over the bank. Almost immediatelywe saw thewhite outcroppings of rockand found some red garnets imbeddedin the quartz. They were small, butnice specimens. Some extra fine gem.quality stones have been found in theessonite deposits in this area.

But this wasonly a preview of whatawaited us that day. We returned toth e car and continued down grade,keeping a sharp eye to thehills on ourright. Our l andmark was a long whitegash on the face of the mountain, leftover from a mining operation. Thescar runs from the bottom of the hillto about half way up the side and ishard to miss. But,drive slowly for bythe time you sight it, youwill have Justenough leeway to make the sharp right

turn down the short dirt road whichleads directly to the foot of the gash.If you aredriving from the directionof El Centro, start looking for thegashafter passing Shepard's Bridge, a fewmiles west of Coyote Wells.T o the right of the gash are twotrailsone twists left up the hill andthe other leads off to the right into ahidden valley. The hill trail is easywalking and directly over the top itdrops off into a gully. Part wayup theother side of the next ridge is anothergarnet field. Crystals by the handfulare everywhere. Those lying loose area nice amber brown color, but are

weathered and crack easily. With abi t of work we had little trouble pry-ing out some good specimens from

underneath the loose rocks. Garn et-bearing rock runs all through thesemountains and there probably aremany outstanding gems waiting forthe rockhound with time and ambitionto find them.Some of the adjacent mining prop-erty is being worked by a new com-pany, Tyce Engineering of ChulaVista, and the usual no trespassing

signs are up. However, Tyce told methat as long as rockhounds did notbother anyone at themine or its equip-ment, they have his permission to ex-plore the garnet deposits.The second trail at the gashtheone into the hidden valleybroughtus into a botanical won derland. Thisis a warm and pleasant valley with amoonscape look, where one can wan-der for an hour or a day,kicking offsome of your worries along the sandywashes.This beautiful garden is so neat andorderly, it looks like it wasplanted andtended by a phantom caretaker. Heregrew the greatest variety of desert na-tives I had ever seen for such a smallarea.A little fish-hook cactus crouchedbehind the apron of a big tough bar-rel cactus; staghorns that asked forand gave no quarter; agaves shootingtheir flower stalks straight up into theblue; the desert 's armored upsidedown octopus, theocotillo; anddozens

of other plantseach busy with itspersonal struggle for survival.Fascinating at all times, the desertgarden really had its hour of glory onthis spring day. Dull andgray the restof the year, the ocotillo flung out itsflaming red flags against the brilliantsky while the thorny ground-huggersspruced out in boutonnieres which,quite unlike anything else on this earth,look as if Nature hadmade them fromshavings of delicately colored wax.There is a third garnet field in thevicinity that we visited that day. Wecrossed Highway 80 a little north ofthe turn-off at the hill and picked upth e old road. Where this road startsto bend around to the right, twowashes almost meet after angling downfrom the mountains to the west. Wehiked up the wash on the right whichtwists through a maze of boulders and

Top The garnet is found in thelight-colored outcroppings along theridges.Bottom A gem in its own right isthis rare desert garden in the hiddenvalley.

22 DESERT MAGAZINE


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Cluster of garnets from the Inkopah diggings.leads up to a warm cactus-studdedhillside.Choice garnet crystals are scatteredover the hillsides here and we col-lected some nice cabinet specimens.But, equally rewarding is the grandvista from this high per ch. Being way

up here makes a fellow feel prettygood inside. Looking up at a toweringredwood tree makes most of us shrinka bit looking down from a desertmountain tails you upespecially ifyou make it up there on your own twolegs.

C s s f i f o e O e s e t t P h o t o g r a p h s . . .Wherever your travels take you in the Southwest, unlimitedcamera subjects await you. Add to this the region's sun-filled days

and shadow-etched backgrounds and the combination of setting andsubject is matchless. If you are a desert enthusiast who regards acamera as standard travel equipment, Desert Magazine's monthlyphoto contest can add both enjoyment and cash profit to your hobby.It's a simple contest to enter and is open to both professionals andamateurs.Entries for the June contest must be sent to the Desert Magazineoffice. Palm Desert, California, and postmarked not later than June 18.Winning prints will appear in the August issue. Pictures which arr ivetoo late for one contest are held over for the next mon th. First prize is$ 1 0 ; second prize $5. Fornon-winning pictures accepted for publ ica t ionS3 eac h wil l be paid.

HERE ABE THE RULES1Prints must be black and whits. 5x7 or larger, on glossy paper.2Each photograph submitted should be fully labeled as to subject, time andplace. Also technical data: camera, shutter speed, hour of day. etc.3PRINTS WILL BE RETURNED WHEN RETURN POSTAGE IS ENCLOSED.4Entries must be in theDesert Magaiine office by the20th of thecontest month.5Contests are open to both amateur and professional photographers. DesertMagazine requires first publication rights only of prize winning pictures.6Tims and place of photograph are immaterial, except that it must be from thedesert Southwest.7Judges will be selected from Dessrt's editorial staff, and awards will be madeImmediately after the close of the contest each month.

Address All Entries to Photo Editor72&W& t7Ma^f6$te PALM DESERT. CALIFORNIA

u r n n sest for Doodle Bug EngineersLos Angeles, CaliforniaDesert :During my many years in mining

and prospecting circles and more espe-cially since the appearance of mystory, "We Lost a Ledge of Gold," inthe September, 1955, Desert, I havehad many dealings with Doodle BugEngineers.A Doodle Bug is a contraption thatusually is hung on a string or wire andmanipulated by the engineer who holdsthe other end of the line in his out-stretched hand. In essence they allwork the samesupposedly swingingtoward the metal, vein or object desiredwith pendulum motions, or in circleswhen directly over the desired object.The engineer usually claims that hehas an excess of static electricity inhis body that gives him this power tomake the Bug function. After the Bughas "located" the treasure, the engin-eer often estimates depth and amountof treasurebut seldom takes his coatoff and helps with the digging.The Bugs are all different, most arehome-madeand none shown to mecould pass a simple test I set up forthem. I pass this test on to your read-ers so they will not be misled by thesemiracle machines.Go to a metal salvage yard and buya five or 10 pound piece of pure cop-per as compact as possible. For silvergo to your bank and ask for 25 or 30silver dollars. These two metals usu-ally are enough, but if you must usegold, you can rent it from a dentist orjeweler's supply smelter. Be sure it is1000 fine, however, and do not useold watch cases. Another possiblemetal to use is zinc. All four metalsare non-magnetic. Do not use steel,iron or anything else that is magneticfor this test. And do not make this

test in your backyard, for the Engineerwill claim that your neighbor's silverand gold is confusing the Doodle Bug.Bury your metals in separate holes,about two feet deep, along a 50-footline stretched between two broom-stick handles. Be careful not to leavesigns on top of the ground of yourdiggingsI usually rake the whole 50feet under the line to eliminate alltraces.And when this is ready, ask theDoodle Bug man to walk along theplumb line and locate the separate

metals. Be sure to ask him before thetest if he can locate five or 10 pounddeposits for his first excuse will ber:


25/44

I have never found a Doodle BugEnjoy yourself on your desert trips.

to a qualified assaye r. He will

But, don 't dig holes on DoodleASA M. R USSELL5143'/2 Almaden Drive emories of the Early Desert . , .San Clemente, CaliforniaDesert :While enjoying the sun in a delight-

the day when my mother and I arrivedin Lancaster on the high Mojave coun-try and opened a real estate office inan abandoned saloon. Not a pavedroad within 40 miles, no electricity andfor water we piped into a neighbor'swater tank.Through the years both the faint andstout of heart took up the battle witha resisting desert and its allies of wind,cold and hea t. No w, nearly a halfcentury later, big machines that ripand tear out brush have replaced therailroad iron with a team hitched toeach end, and powerful land planesflatten out a sand dune in a dayachallenge that would have taken a rug-ged early day rancher weeks or evenmonths with his team and fresnoscraper.Courage and vision, together withour matchless progress in engineering,have conq uered the desert. The radiobeside me at this desert spa gives theslogan of an engineering firm: "Prog-ress is our most important product."What a wonderful world this wouldbe if, through the years, we had madethe same progress in love and under-standing in being neighborly andunselfish. It was the sharin g withothers of our work, equipment andknow howof just being friends withpeople that remain as our mostpleasant memories of the early desertdays. F R A N K B . R U T L E D G E

- .Goo d New s for A very Mo ss * . .Weed Heights, NevadaDesert :I wonder if any of your readers canhelp me locate Avery Moss, who wasin the cattle and meat business in Ari-zona. Last time I saw him he was atYuma 15 years ago. I have a checkfor him, in payment for an interest insome mining claims.T H O M A S W . B R E T T

More on Tamarisks , Tamaracks . . .Twentynine Palms, CaliforniaDesert :What goes on with this tamarack-tamarisk bu siness? fn the M arch let-ters, C. N. Clinesmith refers to "Har-old O. Weight's calling your deserttree the tamarisk a tamarack."1 never have called the tamarisk atamarack. And Desert Magazine morethan once (and apparently unsuccess-fully ) has attempted to dispel the tam-arisk-tamarack confusion.For the record, in identifying a turn-off to a field trip 1 mentioned theTamarack District. The TamarackDistrict is named for the TamarackRanch. As the editor of Desert pointedout, both are old and well-known placenam es in Imperial Valley. They willbe found on official road signs, private

ranch signs and the maps of the Auto-mobile Club of Southern California. Itwould have been silly and confusingfor me to attempt to change the spell-ing to Tamarisk R anch . Also it wouldhave been wrong.The Tamarack Ranch was notnam ed for a tamarisk tree . It wasnamed for a large tree still growing onthe ranch, which Lucile and Eva Wil-son believe to be a Casuarina, anAustralian tree named for its resem-blance to the drooping feathers of theCassowary bird. Casuarinas are notrelatives of the tamariskbut, accord-ing to botanists, they are "easily mis-taken for pines." That probably ex-plains the reason for the Tamarackname, and takes the question entirelyaway from the tamarisksI hope.H A R O L D O . W E I G H T

T R U E O R F A L S EIf you are one of those unfor- tunate persons who find it pain-ful to be wrong, then do nottake this test. Fo r unless you are som e kind of a prodigy you will misssome of these question s. But if you do n't mind m aking a mistake, thenTru e or False will be fun, and per hap s you'll learn so mething from it. Ifyour score is 13 to 15 you have a fair knowledge of the Southwest desert.Sixteen to 18 is excellent. Very few peop le have a bread th of know ledgewhich will enable them to score over 18. Answ ers are on page 34.1An arrastre was used by pre-historic Indians to kill bufFalo. TrueFalse2-Smoke trees commonly grow on sand dunes. T ru e. . False3Blossom of Larrea, commonly known as creosote or greasewood, isyellow. True False .4Brigham Young was leader of the westward Mormon trek to Utah.True , False.

5Scotty's Castle in Death Valley is a reconstructed prehistoric Indianruin. Tru e. False .6 The chief industry of Searchlight, Nev ada, is sheep-raising . Tru e .False .7 Camelback Mo untain is visible from Phoenix, Arizona. T rue .False8California's Salton Sea was a popular watering place for prospectorsprio r to 190 0. True ... . Fa lse.9The Indian Pueblo, San Ildefonso, is located in New Mexico.Tr ue ..... .. Fal se10Going west on Highway 66 through Arizona, the motorist wouldpass through Holbrook before coming to Flagstaff. True _False .11 M eteorites often contain nickel. Tru e . False...12The Havasupai Indians sell pottery at little roadside stands alongthe road leading into their village. Tru e False13The Chaparral Cock and the Road Runner are two names for thesame bird. True False .14Intake on Lake Havasu for the Metropolitan water aqueduct is up-stream from Park er, Arizon a. True False15Hopi Indians use only rattlesnakes in their annual Snake Dances onthe Hop i Mesas. True False16Mohs' scale is a system for classifying the hardness of minerals.True False17 The King snake is non-po isonous. True False18Kit Carson helped Wyatt Earp clean out the lawless element inTomb stone, Arizona. True Fals e. . . .19No human being has ever stood on the top of Rainbow NaturalBridge. Tru e False .20The Valley of the Goblins is in the Painted Desert of Arizona.True . False .

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I n d i a n s and the Good Earth . . .Aurora, IllinoisDesert :After reading your April editorialI am inclined to believe that the In-dians who killed the two prospectorsfor desecrating the Good Earth men-tioned by Harry Goulding are far dif-ferent than the Indians of today.

We have made many trips through-out the West and have always feltkindly toward the Indians, in spite ofa couple of disappointing experienceswith them.I am one who loves to spend hisvacations with his family on trips tothe Indian country. I have an inexpen-sive movie camera and while travelingthrough Arizona recently I stopped ata hogan and asked the Indian childrenin front of it if I could take their

pictures. One of them went into thehogan and a moment later returnedand said, "Yes, you can take the pic-tures if you pay us $5.00." I did notfeel that I could afford such a luxury,so drove on.Another instance, and more to thepoint raised earlier in this letter, wasthe roadside scene near an Indian Res-ervation. There were hund reds of tinbeer cans andbottles strewn along thehighway for several milesbut onlyon one side of the highwaythe onethe Indians drove on their way homefrom the nearby town. Theother sideof the road was free of litter.If this isn't desecrating the GoodEarth, then digging a few prospectholes isn't either.But, I hesitate to point my finger atthe Indian whose lands were not onlydesecrated by many white people, but

R o c k S h o r t yof Death ValleyA lone prospector, dust-cov-ered and dragging his feet withweariness as he plodded behindhis burro, t rudged down thesandy trail toward Inferno store."Huh!" said Hard Rock Shorty,perched on the bench under theleanto porch of the dilapidatedframe building. "Guess OF Pis-gah Bill ain't found his mine yet.He'd be steppin' along spryer 'nthat if he had any gold in hispoke ."

. The well-tailored tourist whohad stopped for a tank of gas,waited for Shorty to go on withhis story. Finally, he could re-strain his curiosity no longer."You mean he's got a gold mineout in those hills?" he asked.Shorty's only response was agrunt . But the tourist wanted tohear more about that gold mine,and kept asking questions. Fi-nally Shorty, seeing there wasno other way out, continued."Y u see it was this way,stranger. It all started with thatbee cave up Eight Ball crick.Wasn't much sugar durin' thewar, and Pisgah'd lost his rationbook anyway, soone day he tookhis burro an' went up the crickto rob a wild bee hive. He filled

a couple of them cement bags,which he'dcleaned out, an' hung

'em over the pack saddle. Butthe paper wuzn't as strong asBill thoug ht, an' on theway homeone o' them bags busted an 'leaked honey all over the burro.It wuz an awful mess, an ' whenBill got back he turned the burroloose fer a few days.

"When that burro didn't showup fer a week Bill went outlookin' fer 'im. Finally foundhim up the canyon near themsoda springs. The hair o' theanimal wuz all caked with sandwhere he'd been rollin' in thegravel. As Bill wuz lookin' thebeast over tryin' to figger howto get rid o' that sand an' honey,he saw somethin' shinin' on theside o' the burro. It was a specko' gold. So Bill scraped all thesand he could get off'n that bur-ro's hide an ' brought it back tocamp an ' panned it out. Tha tsand wuz lousy with color.

"Somewhere out around thisdesert that burro did his rollin'in a rich placer field. It mightbe two miles away or twenty,andBill hasn't any notion which di-rection. He's blame near worehisself out this winter pannin'gravel all over Death Valley andits side canyonsbut I know byhis looks he didn't find it today."

actually stolen from them. I amashamed at the way we have treatedthe Indians.We point with scorn at those na -tions whowould subject the people ofother countries to their will, while weare guilty of so much injustice our-selves. C L A U D E V A L E N T I N EDear Mr. V alentine:

You and Harry Goulding are bothright. Harry was talking about theolder generation your experiencewas with the new generation.Indians are human beings justlike you and me. There are goodones and badones honest and dis-honest. They are all going througha critical period of change. Ameri-cans aredoing the same an d it istrue allover theworld for that mat-ter.Young people generally have adifferent set of values than old peo-ple and that is true on the Indianreservations no less than in ourAmerican cities.The final test of every situationof every marriage, of every fraternalor civic organization, of every formof government, and every ideologyand religion, is whether it brings outthe best or the worst in the humanbeings who come within its influ-ence.Certainly the white man's liquoris not bringing out the best in theIndians, a

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