195707 Desert Magazine 1957 July

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I R o & e

SPRING IS A PROSPECTORBy MAUDE RUBINSanta Ana, CaliforniaSpring is a prospector, crabbed and bentThat lcud-braying wind is his burro.With a mountain and star for his bed-roll;>nd tentHe searches each rippled sand furrow;

Finds a color or two in a long-dry streambed,(Needs a grubstake, but where can Springborrow?)So he plods on through shifting mirages.hope-ledFeeling certain he'll strike it tomorrow.That April tomorrow is fickle andcoldAn d his burro is too tired to hikeBut when palo-verde trees scatter their goldOld Prospector Spring makes a strike!

By TANYA SOUTHGive all you have, and ask for noreward.You will be paid, and amply, by theLord.So just are Life's decrees, so straighta courseIs run from cause unto effect, thatforceIs never needed in repayment just.

We earn each crust!And what we earn we get withoutreserve,As we deserve.

By GEORGA A. STOUGHTrinidad, ColoradoAlone on a rocky hillside1 found my lovely rose;Safe guarded in her thorny bedAgainst her many foes.An d she held her head quite proudlyBeneath the deep, blue sky,While there our friendship awakenedBetween my rose and I.Her great beauty it was gleamingIn petals of deep pink;As there I stood enraptured with,Love at first sight, I think.Now 1will endure the hardshipOf miles both hot and dry,Just again to glimpse my rose girl,Beneath the deep, blue sky.

O O OTO THE DESERT WINDBy EVANS THORNTONNew York, New YorkGo friend of space, of rock and sand,Of shadowed purple hills, wind-clean,You hide within your splendored landA longing longed for, here unseen;Hid here from us whobeat "the street,"An d dig our gold in canyons of steel andstone,Hid here where only steam has heatAnd hearts are cold with fear and so alone.Return, oh wind, to your long sweep ofspace,Stay here no more your songs don't sell;We dare not stop for fear we'll lose therace,And we are deaf to the tales you'd tell.Within this frenzied world of men ourhearts can't hear your cry,So butcher, baker, singer, and king, deaf

are we to die.BARE BROWN HILLS OF NEVADA

By MRS. GLADYS THOMASFallon, NevadaThose bare brown hills of Nevada,Bold, and brazen, and free,They scorn the green cloak of shrub andtree,Worn by mountains of modesty,And shadows glide caressingly,Over their bare brown beauty.Those gold-lined hills of Nevada,Warm, and gay and serene,Bu t old manwinter being sorta shy,Wraps each in white as he passes by.And Jack Frost adds diamonds on the sly,Over their bare brown beauty.Those ermined-wrapped hills of Nevada,Gold, and haughty, and proud,Until the first warm kiss of Spring,Aside their garments of white they fling,And brazenly, stand forth again,!n all their bare brown beauty.

TIME TO LIVEBy HAROLD PATCHPerkinsville, Vermont

Give me time to think, and ponder,As my life's course rolls along;Time to drink in Nature's beauty.Time to hum a snatch of song.Fo r the deeper joys of livingDon't depend on speed, youknow;Joy's fruition is the sweeterGiven time to fully grow.

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D E S E R T C f l L E n D R RJune 24-July 5 Southwest Writers'Workshop, Arizona State College,Flagstaff.July 1Rodeo, Ely, Nevada.July 2-4Rodeo, Silver City, N. M.July 3Days of '47 Cavalcade, SaltLake City.July 3-4Rabbit Ear Roundup Ro-deo, Fort Sumner, New Mexico.July 3-5Gadsden Purchase Fiesta,Mesilla, New Mexico.July" 4Independence Day Celebra-tions: Mesa, Bisbee and Ajo, Ari-zona; Newhall, California; Ely, Mc-Dermitt, Eureka, Goldfield, Cali-ente, Lovelock and Austin, Nevada;Las Vegas, White Sands NationalMonument and Cimarron, N. M.July 4-6LDS Rodeo, Show Low,Arizona.July 4-629th Annual Southwest All-Indian Pow Wow, Flagstaff.July 4-7Frontier Days and Rodeo,Prescott, Arizona.July 4-7Rodeo, Reno.July 4-724th Annual Hopi Crafts-man Exhibit, Museum of NorthernArizona, Flagstaff.July 4-7Cowhands Rodeo, Cloud-croft, New Mexico.July 4-7Mescalero Apache IndianCeremonial, Mescalero, N. M.July 4-7Rodeo and Jack Pot Rop-ing, Payson, Arizona.July 6-79th Annual Hesperia DayCelebration, Hesperia, California.July 11-13 Ute Stampede, Nephi,Utah.July 11-14Rodeo, Santa Fe.July 11-14Cowboy Camp Meeting,

Clayton, New Mexico.July 12-14All Faces West Pageant,Ogden, Utah.July 14Corn Dance, Cochiti Pueblo,New Mexico.July 18-20Dinosaur Rodeo, Vernal,Utah.July 18-20, 22-24Rodeo, Salt LakeCity. Pioneer Day Parade on 24th.July 18-212nd Annual Trade Showand Carnival, Palmdale, California.July 21Shrine Circus, Elko, Nevada.July 21-28 Na vajo Craftsman Ex-hibit, Museum of Northern A rizona,Flagstaff.July 22-27White Mountain RangeRiders trek to Mount Baldy, fromSpringerville, Arizona.July 23-24 Fiesta Days, SpanishFork, Utah.July 24 Pioneer Days Celebrationand Rodeo, Ogden, Utah.July 24Pioneer Days Rodeo, Lund,Arizona.July 24Pioneer Days, Panaca, Nev.July 25-26Spanish-Colonial Fiestasof St. James and St. Ann, Taos;Corn Dance at Taos Pueblo, N. M.July 26 Fiesta and Corn Dance,Santa Ana Pueblo, New Mexico.July 27-28 Sheriff's Posse RoundUp, Flagstaff.July 27-28Los Alamos County Fair,Los Alamos, New Mexico.July 28Ricks Trophy Air Races,Tucson.

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Volume 20 IULY, 1957 Number 7COVER . Fourth of July Picnic. CHUCK and ESTHERHENDERSON ABBOTT took this picture oftheir children and themselves celebratingIndependence Day on the desert.POETRY C a c t u s R o s e an d o t h e r p o e m s 2CALENDAR J u l y e v e n t s on the d e s e r t 3FIELD TRIP C o l l e c t i n g G i z z a r d S t o n e s in U t a hBy GENE SPERRY 4WATERHOLE Paradise Springs on the MojaveBy WALTER FORD 6PERSONALITIES Traders in Apple ValleyBy RANDALL HENDERSON 7BOTANY Cactus Without the ThornsBy EUGENE L. CONROTTO 10RECREATION New Access Road for Rivermen 12TRAVEL C a m p e r s ' T o u r of New M e x i c o ' s B a c k C o u n t r yBy NELL MURBARGER 13FICTION H a r d R o c k S h o r t y of D e a t h V a l l e y 18CLO SE-UP S A b o u t t h o s e who w r i t e for D e s e r t 18INDIANS Missionary to the NavajosBy VADA F. CARLSON 19RECREATION These Mountains Are Only for the Sturdy

By LOUISE WERNER 21C O N T E S T P i c t u r e - o f - t h e - M o n t h C o n t e s t a n n o u n c e m e n t . . 22PHOTOGRAPHY Pictures of the Month 23N A T U R E T h e i r O d o r Is O n l y a W e a p o n for D e f e n s eBy EDMUND C. JAEGER 24F O R E C A S T S o u t h w e s t r i v e r r u n o f f p r e d i c t i o n s 26EXPERIENCE The Treasure We Value MostBy THOMAS W. MAY 27DESERT QUIZ A test of your desert knowledge 28NEWS From here and there on the desert 29LETTERS C o m m e n t f r o m D e s e r t ' s r e a d e r s 29M I N I N G C u r r e n t n e w s of d e s e r t m i n e s 33U R A N I U M L a t e s t d e v e l o p m e n t s in the i n d u s t r y 35LAP IDARY A m a t e u r Gem Cut t er , b y DR. H. C. D A K E . . 36H O B B Y G e m s and M i n e r a l s 37C O M M E N T 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 2BOOKS R e v i e w s o f S o u t h w e s t e r n L i t e r a t u r e . . . . 4 3H ISTO RY C h a r c o a l K i l n sBy JOSEF and JOYCE MUENCH . . back cover

The Desert Magazine is published monthly by the Desert Press, Inc., Palm Desert,California. Re-entered as second class matter July 17, 1948, at the postoffice at Palm Desert,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 contentsmust be secured from the editor in writ ing.RANDALL HENDERSON, Editor EUGENE L. CONROTTO, Associate EditorBESS STACY, Business Manager EVONNE RIDDEL L, Circulation ManagerUnsolicited manuscripts and photographs submitted cannot be re turned or acknowledgedunless full return postage is enclosed. Desert Magazine assumes no responsibility fordamage or loss of manuscripts or photographs although due care will be exercised. Sub-scribers should send notice of change of address by the first of the month preceding issue.SUBSCRIPTION RATES

One Year S4.00 TwoYears $7.00Canadian Subscriptions 25cExtra, Foreign 50c ExtraSubscriptions 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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C o l l e c t i n g G \ i w iS t o n e s i n U t a h . . .

Not all scientists agree that the smoothly polished gizzard stonesactual ly were used by dinosaurs as crop roughagebut everyoneagr ees that they ma ke very un usual cabinet pie ces. This month's f ieldtrip takes you to the Yellow Caturanium mining district where theses tones abound, a long with gem quality pertified wood and fossilizedb on e s p ec imen s .By GENE SPERRYM ap by Norton AllenPhot ographs by Lee W. Sperry

B E C A M E AN ardent rockhoundafter one prospecting trip toUtah's Yellow Cat uranium min-ing district between Cisco and Thomp-son. And no wonderthe material isplentiful and colorful, and the craggyand rough-hewn battlements that wewandered through are fascinating.Ted Wolverton, who leases minesin the Yellow Cat district, told myhusband, Lee, and I about the area'sgizzard stones. This is a rock of con-tention in the rockhound fraternity.Some geologists, miners and rock-hounds believe the gizzard stones wereactually swallowed by dinosaurs to aidin the maceration of their foodothersoppose this theory.These gastroliths have a high polish

and slickness not found in other rocks,no matter how long they have been ex-posed to weather andwater. They areeasily seen for they are entirely foreignto the native stones. Even the holeson the surface of the gizzard stoneshave a velvety polish.In many of the gizzard stones col-lected that day I found fossils whichwere ancient when the dinosaursroamed this land. They record ourfirst forms of life, from the Cambrian,Ordovician, Silurian and Devonianeras.Most were worm or micro-fossils,a few were imprint fossils. In somethe cell structure was plainly visibleto the naked eyewhile others requireda magnifying glass. I found the shell

fossils especially beautiful formost hadcrystallized into various shades of redand pink. One specimen Wolvertonfound contained a perfect star-shapedfossil of a starfish that may have lived400,000,000 years ago. It is milkwhite in color as are most of the giz-zard stone micro-fossils.The Yellow Cat district also con-

tains other fossilized rocks. Most hadshell, coral and cell structure imprints.Occasionally I found small clustersof round coral on the surface of therock rather than imbedded or im-printed. I also found fossils of seg-mented worms, archaeocyathus, corals,nummulite shells, snails, spirifers,tracks of Crustacea and worms, spon-g e s , bryozoa and crinoidea. My onedisappointment is that I have yet tofind an imprint of a trilobite {Desert,Sept. 55).Petrified wood and dinosaur bonewere two other treasures we foundhere. Tracking the original source ofbone or wood splinters became an ex-citing game. It was generally a matterof following the float up a wash orincline. Often I wasdisappointed be-cause the source had completely dis-appeared. Other times I discoveredwhere the log had shattered to piecesor where several dinosaur bones wereburied in the sandy soil.Bone and tree rocks have a textureunlike any other. In bones the cellstructure is completely there . Oftenthey are a soft red,brilliant blue, dull

brown, glittering black or a combina-tion of these colors. Trees are com-plete with knots, rings andbark. Theytoo occur in many shades of brassy

o CrescentJet -6Mi.Greenriver-7Mi.

A PORTION OF THEYELLOW CATAREA

GRAND COUNTY,UTRH _ Pavement= . . . Jeeps andPickupsSuitable for Passenger Cars

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for the rock houn d. Mo st petri-

The Yellow Cat area's many roadsthe entire country. The main

There undoubtedly are many types

Mine dumps in the Yellow Cat offerof uranium ore. Ran g-blacks of pitchb lende . Old

Plant life, while sparse, is repre-

p Jeeps are best suited for travelthe Yellow Cat district. In thisauthor found beautifulized wood.

Uranium hunter PascoGrand Junction, Colo-rests in the craggy and rough-Gizzard stones and petrifiedwood and bone are found here.

sented by a variety of speciesloco-weed, greasewood, brittlebush, cactiand others .Mice, ground squirrels and smalllizards were numerous around ourcamp and I saw many birds about,including roadrunners and desert spar-

rows. This also is the land of the cot-tontail rabbit.Spring is the best time to visit theYellow Cat districtand don't be sur-prised to find me, head down and pickin hand, looking for new wonders inthe stones.


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HISTORIC DESERT WATERHOLES VIIP m i k e S p r i n g s o n t h e M o j m . . .

To thepioneers of yesterday whoknew it as an important water-ing place on theMojave Desert and to the desert lovers of todaywholive there in contentmentno name serves quite as well for this littlevalley where the water bubbles out of the ground as does the nameit hasParadise Springs.

By WALTER FORDT'S a paradise, boys, it's aparadise!"Thus spoke the leader of athirsty little band of emigrants as theygot their first glimpse of a cool sweetwater spring bubbling from the earthat the head of a little valley on theMojave Desert. There wasmore thancool water here. Grass for their stockgrew in abundance, mesquite beanswere plentiful, and rabbits and quailcould be taken with little effort.Time has obscured the identity ofthis party, or its destination. Probablythey were following the desolate DeathValley-Barstow trail by way of CaveSprings, or had drifted off the oldSpanish Trail as it swung south fromBitter Spring to what is now the Bar-stow-Baker sector of Highway91.But the word of this refreshingwaterhole in one of the most desolate

areas in North America was passedalong to other emigrants and prospec-torsand eventually Paradise Springsbecame a name on some of the maps.

For three-quarters of a century thiswaterhole has been a rendezvous forprospectors. Some came to bathe inthe warm mineral waters of othersprings nearby. Some remained toprospect the hills and evidently theyfound a showing of pay ore for thereare the ruins of an old arrastre, andnumbers of abandoned shafts andtunnels.At one time an effort wasmade topipe water from Paradise Spring tothe Olympus mine three miles away,but according to the late Dix VanDyke of Daggett who was very familiarwith this region, the mineralized watersoon crystallized the iron pipes. Whenwooden pipe replacements were put inthe water destroyed the metal hoopsholding the pipe together.Many years have passed since thefirst white travelers visited Paradise

Springs, but to the group of formertheatrical people from coastal citieswho have established their homesthere, it is still a paradise. LackingThe author kneels at theoriginal spring which still flows from the base of adirt bank at the head of thevalley.

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telephones, television sets and trafficnoises, they dohave such conveniencesas gas refrigeration and battery oper-ated radios, and above all, the free-dom to live as they please.Paradise Springs is now owned byRoyal and Renie of LosAngeles.Theowners were absent when I was there,but Olga Shuey graciously showed mearound. A number of springs havebeen developed in the area aroundwhich permanent residents have erectedliving quarters or have parked theirtrailers. An interesting phenomenonof the area is hot and cold water issu-ing from the earth in close proximity.My guide pointed out two streamstwo feet apart that were flowing intoa small tankone icy cold while thetemperature of the other ran well over100 degrees.The original spring flows from a cutin a low bank at the head of the val-ley. Twoconcrete bathing pools havebeen built a short distance from thespring, side by side, so that one maybathe in warm or cold water, as hismood dictates. Olga Shuey told methat the warm mineralized water hadsuch curative powers that many visitorstravel several hundred miles to bathein them. She stated further that nocharge had ever been made for use ofthe bathing facilities.Driving back toward Barstow Ipassed a soldier walking nonchalantlytoward Camp Irwin, minus a canteenand with the temperature hoveringaround the 100 degree mark, appar-ently confident that with theheavy flowof traffic toward the military area hewould soon obtain a ride. I couldnothelp but reflect on what a change a

few short years had made. This wasthe road that was formerly little morethan two ruts, over which only themost foolhardy would venture in thesummer without sufficient water, andalong which Adrian Egbert used tomaintain bottles filled with water toalleviate thesufferings of such travelers.Paradise Springs is located one anda half miles west of the Camp Irwinroad and 20.5miles northeast of Bar-stow where a metal sign indicates theturn-off. While visitors areundoubtedlywelcome, it should be remembered that

Paradise Springs is private propertyand that the common courtesy of an-nouncing one's arrival should be ob-served.DESERT MAGAZ INE


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Frances and Zeke Comia of Buffalo Trading Post.

Frances and Zeke Cornia found the end of their rainbow in AppleValley on California's Mojave Desert. Truethere was no pot of goldawaiting them there, but they found more important thingshealth,work that paid a fair reward, and the opportunity to be of service totheir neighbo rs.By RANDALL HENDERSONArchi tec tura l photography by

Douglas M. Simmonds, Los AngelesY AC Q UA INTA NC E wit h t heCornias began in March thisyear when Cyria and I visited

Inside the adobe walls were many

Zeke and Frances were busy with

their customers, but I noted that it wasno ordinary curio store. Housed in anewly constructed and very distinctivesales room, with living quarters adjoin-ing, the structure is a pleasing blend ofIndian pueblo and modernistic design,having the most substantial and attrac-tive features of the Southwest's origi-nal architecture modified with the ma-terials and lines of modern planning.Later that evening we sat before thehuge native stone fireplace in the liv-ing room of their spacious home. Be-yond the partition was the shop wherethey spend their working hours serving

customers who come here to obtainthe high quality crafts products on dis-play. But when the day's work isended they close the door to theirworld of commerce and live with theirbooks and hobbies in an atmosphereof exquisite Indian furnishings.I wanted to know what kind of peo-ple had created a place so charming.Frances and Zeke and Danny, their 12year old son, were modest, but coop-erative in answering my questions.Zeke is 54, and they came to AppleValley in 1947 from Long Beach, Cal-ifornia. Both Zeke and Danny w erebothered with sinusitis and their doc-tor had advised them to seek a dryclimate. The new Ap ple Valley com-munity development was much in theheadlines at that time, and this highdesert valley seemed to offer oppor-tunities for a family too young to re-tire.Zeke left the automotive reconstruc-tion business in Long Beach, and they

A n attractive blending of Indian pueblo with modern design.


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C I II 1 C E .

P 4 uFloor plan of the trading post and living quarters. McF arland-Bo nsall, Architects.

planned and buil t the Black Horse M o-tel in Ap ple Valley. They are fond ofhorses, and have done much riding,and the new motel was designed forhorsem en and their families. Therewere eight apartments, and stall ac-commodations for riding animals. Theirplace became a popular rendezvous

for visitors who would bring theirmounts to the desert in trailers for aweekend of riding.Zeke had always wanted to have atrading post, and after the motel wasopened they decided to put a coupleof show cases of Indian jewelry in theoffice. In seeking new stocks of crafts-

work they became acquainted with E.M. Daniels, veteran Indian trader atFontana, California, and he becametheir main source of supply, and taughtthem much about the business. Thesilver and turquoise secured throughDaniels was of exceptional quality, andtheir jewelry business prosperedin8 DESERT MAGAZINE


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Then in 1955, Daniels wanted toThey wo uld sell the Black

One of their customers at the Black

The building is a combination ofthe roof for insulatio n. Bea m ceil-

A central gas heating unitwa rmth . Th e building is so well

Set well back from the highway,

Known as the Buffalo Trading Post,

An orderly well-kept shop of fine craftsmanship.The Cornias do most of their ownsales wo rk, and they enjoy it. Theyhave become quite expert in judgingthe quality of crafts products, and arevery selective in their choice of mer-chandise to be displayed in their post.Ninety percent of the Indian productsare reservation made, much of it ob-tained from the Navajo Arts & CraftsGuild at Window Rock and from ZuniPueblo. They have ceramics from theSims Ceramics studio in Apple Valleyand from Desert House in Tucson,Craftsman copper from Costa Mesa,California, Navajo rugs from the res-ervation, Chimayo blankets from New

Living room and fireplace in the Cornia home.

Mexico and a beautiful collection ofIndian basketry which they acquiredfrom the Daniels' collection.Both of the Cornias are active incivic affairs. Zeke has been presiden tof both the chamber of commerce andthe Lions' Club in Apple Valley.Frances is program chairman for theApple Valley Women's Club.The Apple Valley community which

they selected for their home is uniquein many respects. Newton T. Bass andBarney Westlund, the original develop-ers of the community, planned theirproject for spacious living. There areno crowded subdivisions. The build-ing sites are large, the streets wide, andmost of the residents of the wide valleyhave chosen to do their landscapingwith native shrubs and rocks, with ofcourse a generous sprinkling of Joshuatrees which are so conspicuous on thispart of the Mojave desert.There are no tall buildings in AppleValley to shut off the distant horizon.The ideas of space and individualityare well illustrated along the wide busi-ness street. The old custom of creat-ing a canyon of brick and cement andcalling it Main street, was discardedin the planning of this community. Inmost instances the stores and shopsare of the ranch type of architecture,each an individual unit with spacingbetween, and ample parking front andrear.This is the place the Cornias selectedfor their desert home. The sinustrouble that brought them here haslong since disappeared, but they arehappy in what they are doing and haveno thought of ever leaving the desert.


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Nat ure spent millions of years developing a spiny protectivearmor for prickly pear cactusand then Luther Burbank in 15 yearsreverse d the process . Here is an ama zing story of plant selection"the most important record of my entire work," Burbank commentedin 1915.By EUGENE L CONROTTO

developed new beauty in many spe-cies, his quest always was for adap-tability and har dine ss. He felt that ifhis experiments did not lead to greaterutility-to service for mankindthenhis efforts were useless.Long before the turn of the centuryBurbank gave much thought to thecactus and its arid home . Here is aplant, he reasoned, that is denied adrop of rain for a year, two yearseven 10, and yet still gets enoughmoisture out of the soil and air tobuild a structure that is 92 percentwater.Burbank started his experimentswith cactus one day after he reflectedthat every plant growing on the desertwas either bitter, poisonous or spiny.The bitterness, the poison, the spinesthese were Nature's defensive arm-or developed for the purpose ofsurvival."What might have been a food plantequal to the plum transformed itselfinto a wild porcupine among plants;what might have been as useful to thecow as hay changed its nature andbecame bitter, woody, inedible; whatmight have been a welcome friend tothe weary desert traveler grew up, in-

A prickly pear cactus hedge.

HIS long and illustriouscareer Luther Burbank experi-mented with 10,000 species ofplants . He took the pit out of plumsand the acid out of berries; he pro-duced brilliant flowers and developedfruit to pre-determined specificationsof size, taste and appearance; hisgrasses were hardier; where wind dam-aged corn he developed a hybrid thatgrew so fast and was so strong thatit was never bothered by winds; hemade better beans, squash, grapes,pears, apples, carrots, figs, melons,peas, artichokes and he took thespines out of cactus."My work with cactus is the mostimportant story to be told in connec-tion with the record of my entirework," declared Burbank in 1915when he was 65 years of age.Strange for the creator of Burbankpotatoes to make such a statementabout those grotesquely shaped inhab-itants of the arid places; strange for thegreatest botanist who ever lived toplace the thorny cactus at the zenithof his 10,000-unit parade of plants,ranking it above wheat, above thecarnation.While in the floral world Burbank

. . .stead, into a poisonous enemy," com-mented Burbank.But, since plants were on earth longbefore foraging animalsthis protec-tion was acquired. Burb ank quicklyconcluded that there was a time in thehistory of the cactus that it did notneed a defensea time when it didnot have barbs.The Southwest was once a greatsea, Burban k explained. Before evap-oration of this inland sea was com-plete, the heat and moisture and chem-ical constituents of the sandy soilcombined to give many plants an op-portunity to thrive. Among these wascactus.As the heat began to parch the for-mer sea bottom the cactus started itsfirst great adapta tion. It graduallydropped its leaves to prevent too rapidtranspiration, sent its roots deeper anddeeper into the sand, thickened itsstalks into broad slabs. During thistime, of course, many species, unableto adapt to the heat, were lost.A few more million years and thenanimal life appeared on this vast seabed. These animals found the plantsexcellent forage. Veg etation beganthinning out while the animals, withstill abundant plant life to feed them,multiplied rapidly until a new balancewas struck. Man y mo re species ofplants were lost until the cactus founditself but one of a dozen hardy onesleft.Out of every million cacti eaten tothe ground by animals perhaps only


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or tw o of the hardiest hadto throw out new padst oagain. These plants eventuallyup an ineffectual modified fruitd or leaf in a desperate attempt atBut, this proved too softd of the thousand or two left frommay havebut a hundred able to stand offe new onslaughts.This hundred, stronger than those

hadgiven up,sent up new leaves.the hairs became stifferif onlye out of a million was left, therea cactus which was effectu-One such survivor out of the billionsof cactus plants that had

to have covered the deserts of theits progeny. One cactusand mothered allin the world today!Burbank's job would be to go backthe ages and return to theits long lost spineless cactus. Heit would take a long time. Actu-he accomplished in 15years whatofto do, but 15 years in the lifeof a man is a long time. Ofhe had several thousand otherat the same time and

But, what made Burbank considerhis most importanthe started on it? True ,buthad a third feature when added totwo which made it, in Bur-of prime significance towas produc-An average annual yield foron even the poorestwas 18,000 pounds of fruit per"The possibilities of production onthe perfected varieties are probablyof any other fruit-cac-an astonishing pro-of 100 tons per acre!" Bur-

And this fruit con-14 percent sugar and smallof protein and fat. Thus ,of energy-giving sugar perthe cactus.Fruit production by cactus wasnot,new in Burbank's day.of the Mediterranean basinof the Southwest had mad ean important part of theirlong before. The re is no knownfor comparing the taste ofIn general, it combines the

and texture of a melon and rasp-But, Burbank did not regard cactus

Massive clusters of cactus fruit. Bu rbank's exp erimen ts told him that anacre of cacti yields between 150 and 300 tons of new forage annuallybesides nearly half as much fruit. Photograph by Harry Vroman.primarily as a fruit-bearing plant forman. Rather he saw the great possi-bility its juicy pads held as a feed forlivestock, especially on the open rangesof the arid Southwest.In pioneer days early settlers oftensaw cattle and antelope eat cactus thatsomehow, usually by fire, had lostits spines. It was considered excel-lent forage in this land where othersucculents could notsecure a foothold.Cattle and sheep owners often wereforced to send crews out to burn thespines off of cactus and to feed itto the livestock in times of drouth.This was an emergency measure, how-ever, for the high cost of gathering

WHY NOT MORE CACTUS?l/uther Burbank over a periodof 15 years devoted much timeand labor to the breeding of spine-less species of cactusfeeling thathe was rendering a great serviceto mankind, and especially to thecattle industry. The readers ofDesert Magazine would be inter-ested to know why a food plantwhich yields so much forage valuein a land of little rainfall is notbeing cultivated more widely forthat purpose by the cattle indus-try. Comment in answer to thisquestion will be appreciated by

the editors of Desert Magazineto be passed along to our readers.

and burning the cactus was only jus-tified when it was a question of lifeor death for the livestock.Nature has produced a few spinelesscacti, but these are all small and in-conspicuous species and very bittertasting.Cactus grows so rapidly under fa-vorable conditions that a three-year orolder stand will gain between 150 and300 tons of new forage per acre an-nually besides nearly half as muchfruit.Burbank decided to attack the prob-lem of producing a spineless cactus byhybridizing known partially spinelessspecies with large spiny ones followedby a rigid program of selection.He felt that from the standpoint ofeconomic value, one of the Opuntiaspeciesthe cactus commonly knownas prickly pearoffered the greatestpossibilities. It is hardy, adaptable,easily grown and very productive.Finally, his experiments were started.The cactus blooming season was aperiod of torment for Burbank dayand night, for he found that he couldnot avoid the spines while hand polli-nating and inspecting the cacti. Manyof the species hadflowers that opened

only during the hottest part of the day,and some of the blossoms remainedopen for only 15 minutes. The atten-Y , 1 9 5 7 11


12/44

dant had to be on thespot when thecritical time came.Burbank used a watch crystal as avessel inwhich to collect thepollen.When theplant to bepollinizedwasready to bloom, its stamens were re-moved just before they matured andpollen dusted from thewatch crystalwith a camel's hair brush over recep-tive stigma.While inthe early hybridizing stageshe discovered a curious feature incac-t u s . Incrossing the giant opuntias withsmaller spineless species the hybridwas intermediate in all detailssize,s tem and manner of growth and formof padsexcept one: the hybrid blos-so m wasrelatively enormousmuchlarger than the blossom of either par-ent. The se hybrids bred true to formand showed no tendency toracial vari-ation in thesecond generation. Bur-

bank explained theblossom phenom-enon in his manner: the floral envelopeoccupies a position in thehereditaryscale somewhat different from that ofthe main stem of the cactus plant.The flower is a relatively recent de-velopment in thehistory of plant lifeand was not governed by the sameforces that determined that the hybridshould be an intermediate.Years of rigid selection produced acactus that had no spines. Every seed-ling that showed any propensity tobear spines had to beeliminated. Be-fore too long Burbank wasable tomake that choice assoon asthe seed-ling popped its first leaf out of theground. Indue time hedeveloped hisspineless racea plant that showed areassortment of hereditary character-istics. Hisfinal product wasexactlywhat hehad started out toproduce: a

gigantic cactus overtopping all itsknown ancestors insize and surpassingthem all insucculence, producing fruitof unpredicted excellence in almostunbelievable quantity and having asur-face assmooth asthe palm of a hand.A t the end of 15years he did nothave one, butseveral new species ofspineless cacti of theopuntia family.H e hadplants that produced a widevariety of fruit in size andform aswell as texture andflavor.Burbank had anacre and a quarterplanted tospineless cactu s athis SantaRosa, California, experimental farm.Despite the fact that he had 2500other experiments going at the sametime, visitors were time and again luredto thecactus. They stood before theacre and a quarter jungle of smoothgreen pads, awed by themiracle per-formed by this wizard of the plantworld.

K m C r e e k J e e p R o a d P e w i t sG l e n C a n y o n A c c e s s t o R i m m e n

While the Colorado River at theGlen Canyon damsite will remainclosed tonavigation aspreviously an-nounced by the U. S. ReclamationBureau, a newexit route from theriver at apoint upstream from the damwill make itpossible for boating partiesto make their scheduled runs fromHite andMexican Hatthis summer,according tothe latest U.S.R.B. bulle-tin.

A 19-mile jeep trail has been com-pleted, leaving the river atKane Creek(the Crossing ofthe Fathers) and con-necting with theKanab-Damsite roadat Wah weap Creek. "Th e new accessroad at Kane Creek is suitable only

for jeeps and light pickup trucks tow-ing light boat trailers," Regional Di-rector E. O. Larson warned.As access to Rainbow Bridge, Music

Hall, Hole-in-the-Rock, Mystery andTwilight Canyons and other scenicpoints inGlen Canyon are all upstreamfrom Kane Creek, the new jeep roadfor those who have theproper equip-ment will serve tokeep open forriver travelers the most interesting sec-to r of the Colorado and San Juan riv-er s inGlen Canyon, until such time aswater begins toback up in thenewlyformed reservoir.l ite

o P a r i o

To Kanob30 miles

GLEN CANYONDAMSITELees Ferry

KANE CREEKJEEP ROAD

GLEN CANYON RESERVOIR

Crossing ofJy^ ~>v IneFathers

J1 9'Rainbow Bridge Not ' l . Monument

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Mexican Hat__AY ~ "o

To Konab65 mi les

U N I T E D S T A T E SD E P A R T M E N T OF T H E I NT E R I O RB U R E A U O F R E C L A M A T I O NGLEN CANYON STORAGE UNIT

W A HW E A P -K AN E C R E E K J E E P R O ADL O C A T I O N MAP

j B i t t e r S p r i n g sT o F l a g s t a f f 1 1 0 m i l e s

12 DESERT MAGAZINE


13/44

Free forest camp in Taos Canyon four miles east of Taos. State Highway 38 between Questa and Red Mountain Pass.". . . when we left Santa Fe thatmorning we didn't have the vagu-est idea where we'd spend the

night and certainly we didn'tdream that the week's ramblingwould carry us to Indian pueblos,prehistoric cliff and cave dwell-ings, Spanish mission ruins, de-serted ghost towns in the miningcountry and a long tumbl ingstreams to frosty camps in the highmountains . . ."By NELL MURBARGERMap by Norton Al len

LICKING ITS heels at the busyfreeway, the ragged little roadwent galloping off into the sum-mer hills speckled with junipers andsunshine. Soon as Dad and Mo m andI saw it we knew it was a road wewanted to follow.We never lack adventure on ourcamping trips for when we reach aroad fork we consult our map to seewhich way seems to offer the greatestpotential interest. If the road branchesthree ways and we each vote different-ly, we settle the matter by drawingstraws . Ou r best trips are those in

which we don't know where we aregoing until we get there!For instancelate last August whenwe turned off the Albuquerque high-

way onto New Mexico's Route 10.That week-long outing cost each of usonly $6 .91!Route 10 is a two-lane black-toppedroad that serves a few small towns, agreat many huge cattle ranches andseveral mining camps.Since we elected to bypass the fa-mous Los Cerrillos turquoise minessituated only a few miles off our road,the first signs of mining activity weencountered were at Madrida strangelittle town almost swallowed by themountainous jet-black dumps of heronce active coal mine s. Discove red in1835, the mines were worked exten-sively beginning in 1869, and at theirpeak annually shipped 100,000 tons ofanthracite and bituminous coal. All

went well until the major railroads be-gan switching to diesel oil, whereuponthe coal mine operators found them-selves caught between rising produc-tion costs and a diminishing market.As the mines closed, the bulk of Mad-rid's population moved away and to-day many homes and business build-ings stand vacant, and the gaunt blackhulks of the mine buildings are silentand deserted.

Evidence of former mining activityincreased with each mile traveled andbefore we reached the old town ofGolden we were seeing prospect holes,old cabins, tailing piles and wholewashes torn and tumbled upside downby man's everlasting search for gold.When Marshall's discovery touched off

J U L Y , 1 9 5 7 13


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To RATON

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the stampede toCalifornia in 1849,men already hadbeen placeringthewashes inGolden formore than 300years. Spaniards, inthe 16th century,first worked this ground with Indianslave labor.

The San Pedro district, on a sideroad acouple ofmiles beyond Golden,was mined for copper as early as 1832and had its greatest boom about 1880,when asizeable city sprang up aroundthe mines. Now, it is only a ghosttown, and we had agreat time prowl-ing around the old ruins which includea big adobe church, beehive charcoalkilns, stone cabins, mine buildings andan old graveyard. Mom found someespecially good dendrite, and on thedump ofthe main mine, amile south-east of town, we found a numberofnice quartz crystal, limonite, hematite,calcite, garnet and malachite cabinetspecimens.

Soon after returning to Route 10 wepaused for a brief inspection of theIndian pueblo ruins at Paako StateMonument. Built of rubblestone andadobe, and abandoned prior to1670,the highest walls remaining are notover four or five feet above the ground,but the forms of theseparate roomsare clearly defined, andeverywherewe looked wesaw fragments of pre-historic pottery.We camped that night inthe SandiaMountains in a grove of giant Pon-

derosa pines at anelevation of over8000 feet. The free campground wasbig and clean and almost untenanted;there was much dry wood and conesfor ourcampfire and a little breezewas making music in the tops of thetall pines. We knew it would be agrand night for sleepingand itdidn'tworry us one particle that we only hadtraveled 63miles that day!

We planned to start early next morn-ingand would have, except for amother deer and hertwin fawns, acouple offunny looking squirrels withblack tufts ontheir ears, and a halfdozen crested jays. They allseemedto think we should feed them beforewe left camp, and Dadseemed tothink so, too.Then we drove toBernalillo wherewe crossed the Rio Grande and lookedin onCoronado State Park. Embrac-ing the site of twopre-ColumbianTiguez ruins, Kuaua and Puaray (nowpartially restored) this generally is sup-posed tohave been the site ofCoro-nado's headquarters in1540-42. Fromthe park wecontinued northwest onRoute 44 through acolorful and scenicarea of eroded canyons and cliffs inwhich we found some nice specimensof petrified wood.

We were entering Indian countrynow, andfrequently we metwholefamilies trudging along the road or rid-ing inrickety buckboards orcovered

wagons drawn byhorses and mules.They were from the pueblos ofSantaAna and Zia, whose sand-colored wallsand flat roofs were visible on abenchacross Jemez creek about amile north-east ofour road.

Compared toZia and Santa Ana,Jemez is a Johnny-come-lately town,built only 257 years ago. The originalpueblo tooccupy this site had around500 inhabitants at time of the PuebloRevolt in 1680. The Spaniards, ontheir return topower in1696, chasedthe Jemez folk into the hills and de-stroyed their city. Gradually they fil-tered back totheir ruined homes andbuilt the present pueblo in1700.We drove slowly through the town

from one end to the other, seeing out-door ovens, corn racks, meat hangingin the open todry but we didn'tmake the acquaintance of any of theshy citizens.Thirteen miles beyond is JemezSprings (Desert, Aug '56), asmall re-sort grown uparound a hot artesianspring. Alittle farther up the road isone of theloveliest church ruins inthe entire Southwestthe old Spanishmission ofSan Jose deJemez. Com-pleted in 1617 andabandoned fiveyears later due toconstant aggressionby the Navajos, itsroofless sandstonewalls stand toheights of 30and 40feet, and are stout and plumb despitewind, weather andvandals of more

DESERT MAG AZI NE


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The dam is a coral-like barrier 350

earby soda springs, this natural stonelug is glistening white with streakingsof vivid color. It has the general ap -pearance of a huge dinosaurlumpy,wrink led and very fat. Th e bright littlestream in the canyon has cut a tunnelthrough the dam from which it emer-ges as a pretty waterfall, and hot-water springs still send their calcium-laden waters trickling over the face ofthe formation to keep it perpetuallyplastered white and fresh.

The narrow graveled road up Jemezcanyon is bordered by a leafy jungleof tall cottonwoods, woodbine, clema-tis, Apache plume, scarlet mallows andsunflowers. W e passed half a dozenbeautiful camping sites, each provid-ing limitless water an d shade and w ood.

At Los Conchos campground, inSanta Fe National Forest, we found aperfect jewel of a place. In this cleangrassy clearing, bordered by tumblingJemez Creek and surrounded by tallfirs and quaking aspen, were two logcabin snow shelters the Forestry serv-ice provides in some of its high-eleva-tion camps. Each was equipped with Aged Indian of Taos pueblo.The author examines one of the paddles used for removing bread from an outdoor

oven in an Indian pueblo.

WK K m- !**J U L Y , 1 9 5 7 15


16/44

Taos Indian stands before the ancient adobe walls of her pueblo. Photocourtesy New Mexico Tourist Bureau.a wide stone fireplaceand soon asMom saw this she declared, "We'rehome!" Dad rustled some wood forthe fire and she cooked a pot of beansfor supper. We always carry a poundor two of dry limas, which cook welleven at high elevations; and we'dbought a piece of ham that morningat Bernalillo. She made some dump-lings out of biscuit-mix and cookedthem on top of the beansand wewouldn't have traded that meal and ourlittle log cabin shelter for the best hotelsuite in Albuquerque! Later in theevening we took a walk through thewoods and found enough wild rasp-berries to remind us how good theytaste.

Next morning found us ramblingeastward, following the crest of themountains and rounding the heads ofdeep canyons where exposed pointsrevealed tremendous sweeps of coun-try. From the alpine vegetation we

knew we were traveling at a high ele-vation but we didn't know how highuntil we started down into ValleGrande a wide 176 square milegreen saucer whose rounded bottom is8500 feet above sea level. Geologistsbelieve this is the largest volcaniccrater in the world.

After driving through miles of moun-tain cattle range comprising the BacaLand Grant, we skirted Los Alamos,the forbidden city of the Atoms, andturned off to Bandelier National Mon-ument. Although it was only mid-morning and our travels for this dayand the day previous had totaled but105 miles, we like Bandelier and de-cided to remain there. It is a fascinat-ing spot and a wonderful place tocampquiet and cool, with many tallyellow pines and boxelders for shade.Flowing through the heart of the camp-ground is pretty little El Rito de losFrijolesthe Little River of the Beans.

There's a museum with interestingarcheological exhibits, and park ran-gers conduct several foot tours dailythrough these grand old cliff andpueblo ruins.In the afternoon I rented a horse fortwo dollars and rode up the canyon,seeing several deer and lots of squir-rels and chipmunks. At dusk a hand-some mother skunk and her troop of

youngsters came down to the camp-ground for tidbits.Between Espanola and Pilar, about30 miles, we were in sight of the RioGrande almost all the way. In thisnorthern part of the state it is one ofthe most beautiful rivers in the South-westwide, blue and sparkling, withevery accessible cove ringed by fisher-men. Although we stopped half adozen times along the way it was stillearly when we reached Taos.Taos is fun! There's no end ofthings to see and do. After visiting

the collection of pioneer relics housedin the Kit Carson home, we went tothe old plaza in the center of town, afascinating place to sit in the shade ofthe trees and dream of the past whileyou watch the ebbing and flowing ofthe present. Taos Indians bundled inwhite bedsheets, artists in berets, cow-boys in battered felt hats and bluejeans, fishermen in bright plaid shirts,dudes in fashionable range garb; min-ers; tourists; ranchers; writers; all in-termingling and milling through thissame old plaza that in earlier centuriesknew the footsteps of such Westernimmortals as Milton Sublette, DickWooton, Old Bill Williams, Kit Carson,St. Vrain, the martyred Governor Bentand others.

We bought a nice steak for supper,added 25 pounds of ice to our portableice boxenough to keep our foodcold for another three days anddrove out Taos canyon about fourmiles to a cottonwood-shaded camp-ground near a tumbling little stream inCarson National Forest. Our travelsthis day had carried us 80 miles.Next morning we visited Taos In-

dian pueblo. We're not too fond ofvisiting some of the puebloswe feeluncomfortable because we are intrud-ers. But Taos Pueblo is different. Hereit is strictly business. From each auto-mobile load of visitors entering thepueblo the Indians collect 50 cents.An additional dollar is charged forthe privilege of photographing thepueblo, but the right to take picturesof individuals must be negotiated sep-arately.Ray Mirabel, pure Taos Indian andthen governor of the pueblo, told usthat the two huge adobe apartmenthouses, four and five stories in height,which face each other across TaosCreek, were built long before coming

16 DESERT MAG AZI NE


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the Spaniards inthe 16th century.areoccupied by nearlyInaddition, the puebloof anold church builta"new" church buil t in 1848,and other structures. Wesaw many outdoor adobe ovensthe beehive type. Itwas baking daywe went we couldthe fragrance ofburning pinyonand the savory odor of baking

From thepueblo wecontinued north3 toQuesta, 20milesof the Colorado l ine, where weup a scenic and densely-tothe summit of Red985 2 feet. Even at thiswe still were overshadowed bydeCristo rangea few miles to our

In this majestic setting isElizabeth-the picturesque ghost of aboom-in the late 1860snd '70s. Within a relatively shortof payin a radius of 16 to 20milesthenew town, with aof 5000 to7000 ,ofColfax county andby three stagelines.

Among thebuildings yet standingthe schoolhouse andtwo saloons, severalatwo-story stone struc-tohave been onethe hotels, and a large number ofBut the only personintown wasa young Mexi-who could speak enoughtotell us that only three fam-

Winding down themountain roadonpaved U.S. 64 atand after travelingbout sixmiles made camp near theof the Cimarron River inimarron Canyon Wildlife Area. Likethe other camps we had enjoyed onthe trip, this one had the usual facili-tiestables, outdoor fireplaces, toilets,e tc .and was clean, cool, uncrowdedand densely shaded bynarrow-leavedcottonwoods, pines and firs.Shortly after crawling into our sleep-ing bags we were awakened by a rattl-ing among the pans and dishes on thecamp table. When Dad turned hisflashlight beam inthe direction of theTo p Ruins of the Spanish missionnear Pecos, completed in 1620.Center Ruins of Tyuonyi pueblo,Bandelier National Monument, N.M.Bottom A snow shelter in LosConchos Forest Camp, Santa FeNational Forest.

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18/44

noise we were delighted to see thatour nocturnal visitors were a big fatmother racoon and three nearly-grownyoung.Although no more than a dozen feetfrom us, they showed no fear of thelight but went right on with their ran-sacking. The animals found a bag ofapple:peelings and were as tickled as abunch of kids with a new spotted pony!

They squealed and fussed and snatchedthe peelings away from each other.We wanted to be back in Santa Fefor the Fiesta on Labor Day weekend,so we regretfully broke camp nextmorning knowing this day would seethe end of our happy little circle jauntto nowhere-in-particular.Driving down lovely Cimarron Can-yon we visited several historic build-ings in the old plains town of Cimar-rononce the capital of Lucien Max-well 's mighty land grantand then werolled up the miles, in quick succession,

to Springer, Wagon Mound and Wat-rous.We did not feel that we had time

to visit the many points of interest inLas Vegas. We did s top at the OldSpanish mission ruin at Pecos, nowpreserved as a state mon um ent. Ourlast visit had been on a snowy Marchday in 1928, and it had changed littlein the almost 30 years since. Broug htto completion in 1620, at which timeit was hailed as "a very splendid tem-ple of distinguishing workmanship,"the fine old structure has been in astate of ruin for over 200 years,but its walls are still stout and plumb,and alniost unbelievably massive.From Pecos State Monument, it isonly 25 miles to Santa Fe and noonfound us back at our starting point.In six days we had driven 495 milesand our cash outlay for the entire trip(exclusive of the imperishable foodand films we had carried with us fromSanta Fe) was only $20.73:

29 gallons of gasoline $10.1 51 qua rt cylinder oil .45Fresh meat and bread 4.25Admission and photographyfee at Ta os 1.50

Re ntal of horse at Bandelier__ 2.00Ice cream .9025 poun ds ice .35Postcards and pottery at Tao s 1.13

R o c k S h o t t t jof Death Valley

"Anybody ever get bit by arattlesnake around here?" Thequestion was asked by the newestarrival at the Inferno dude ranch.Hard Rock Shorty was in abad hum or. He 'd taken a jobhustling baggage at the Infernoto get a grubstake for the nextprospecting tr ip. The dude whowanted to know about the rat-tlers had brought 14 pieces ofluggage alongand after pryingall that "hifalutin' junk" out ofthe station wagon and stowingit away in the cabin Shorty wasplumb disgusted."Sure there's rattlers here," heexclaimed, "an' they hate tender-feet so bad they climb the out-side of the house and come downthe chimney to git a bite outtao n e . "The dude turned a li t t le pale."Are they really poisonous?"he asked."Hell man, them snakes is fullo' pizen. Up here they gotta spe-cial bra nd o' pizen. Ma kes every-thing turn white. They even leavea white trail when they crawlaround!

"See all that white ground overthere?" and Shorty waved toward

Death Valley's well known saltflats. "Snakes did that jestcrawlin' over the ground."Anything bit by them rattlersswells up bigger'n a barrel. Guessyou never heerd about ol' PeglegPete . Usta prospect in them hillsover there. One night Pete wentout to set a coyote trap an' asnake nipped him in the leg.Happened to be his wooden leg,an' Pete didn't feel it."But twasn't long afore he wasraisin' right up in the air. Kepton goin' up while Pete pawed the

air with both arms and his goodleg tryin' to find somethin' tohang on to. The pizen in thatleg wuz swellin' it up like a treetrunk an' Pete wuz growin'higher every minute."Boys discovered 'im up therenext morning 30-40 feet in theair ."Shorty started to walk away."But Mr. Hardrock, they didn' tleave the poor man up there didthey?""Hell no, they finally shot 'im

down to keep 'im from starvin'to death."

$20.73Personally, I think this makes apretty good case for camping. WhileI wouldn't recommend pulling a housetrailer over the steep grade between

Questa and Red Rover Passat leastnot without previous local inquiryIsee no reason why small-to-mediumsized trailers cannot be taken over theremainder of our route.As for Dad and Mom and me, thejoy we gain from cooking over a camp-fire and spending our nights in a sleep-ing bag under the open sky is pricelessand neither do we feel that any saneitinerary is ever half as good as thesewhimsical wayward wanderings wherewe plot our route one road-fork at atime.

Ghosts of the Glory Trail, NellMurbarger's best selling book, has cap-tured still another award. Latest hon-ors came from the National Federa-tion of Press Women which named itthe best non-fiction book written byan American woman and publishedduring 1956.

Miss Murbarger's book is now in itssecond edition and is published byDesert Press of Palm Desert, Calif.Having lived in Indian country mostof her life, first near the Sioux in Ne-braska where she was born, and laterin Wyoming near the Wind River Res-ervation, moving to Flagstaff seemedlike homecoming to Vada Carlson,author of this month's "Missionary to

the Navajos." She has been a news-paper woman most of her life and iscurrently a feature writer and societyeditor of the Arizona Daily Sun."The Treasure We Value Most" isTom May's second Desert true experi-ence story, the first appearing in theFebruary, 1955, issue. A resident ofWilmington, California, where he isemployed as a machinist, May is anative of Arkansas. An intractable out-door lover, he admits he knows moreabout the desert and the mountains

than he does about metropolitan LosAngeles where he lives with his wife,Gussie.DESERT MAGAZINE


19/44

An elderly Navajo grandmother, crippled with arthritis, is assisted by KatherineBeard at last year's Christm as party at The Gap, spo nsored by the FlagstaffMission to the Navajos.

fo t & eThe ancient ways run deeply in the ve ins of the Navajos , someof whom have never heard of the White Man's God or the miracles ofmod ern m edicin e. Tell ing Christ ianity's storyand offering m aterialcomfort when the means are avai lableis the never easy but deeplyrewarding work of Katherine Beard and other missionaries in Navajo-land .By VADA F. CARLSON

and no smoke issued from the smokehole, but Katherine Beard, field direc-tor of the Flagstaff Mission to theNavajos had noted the dejected teamin the corral and the wagon besidethe hogan.She left her car near the summer

THE VAST expanse of theNavajo Indian Reservation theleaden clouds hun g low. Early-winter rainfall splashed monotonouslyinto the reddish puddles near the dom e-shaped hogan of the Tsosie family.There was no sound from the hogan

, , ,shelter and paused at the door of thehogan, as is the custom, before liftingthe worn blanket and stooping to lookinside.A medicine man, his paraphernaliaarranged on a strip of calico besidehim, had just completed a sand paint-ing of the moon, the rainbow and thecorn pollen boy. Near the door anold woman sat on the cold ground,a nude youngster on her lap. Othersof the Tsosie family sat in the gloomof the cold room, waiting for the singto begin.Miss Beard shook hands with the

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W Tw EKQWMHIKHSHI EHDHMSHHH MHBd^^E^^"^" IHHHopen arr church. Navajo Indian wom en at Black F alls hear the story of Jesusfor the first time from a mission worker.grandmother before sitting down be-side her."What is the matter with the littleboy?" she asked the medicine man.He was an old man and had knownher for a long time. Their relationshipwas friendly since she had never in-terfered with his healing rites.

"His father looked at the full moonbefore the child was born," he an-swered soberly. "Th at is why this sick-ness has come upo n the child. I willsing over him today, tonight and to-mo rrow. Then , if the moo n does nothear and bring healing, they will takehim to the white man's doctor."Miss Beard looked at his medicine,sadly. There was an abalone shell filledwith sacred herbs; feathers of the eagle,bluebird and hum mingbird; pouches of

sand from the holy mountains; twocarved sticks representing the first manand the first woman; and several rat-tles, one of buffalo hide with the magicturquoise bead in the center and thebuffalo tail hanging from it. And withthese trappings, plus his chanting, heexpected to drive the sickness from thechild's body.She looked at the gaunt little suf-ferer, his belly distended and his limbslooking like little brown sticks, andwondered if he would live long enoughto see the white man's doctor.The baby was placed, screamingwith terror and discomfort, on the coldclammy sand painting, and his fren-zied kicking soon destroyed the care-

fully made designs. Th e med icine ma nlifted his shrill voice in a chant whichhe accompanied with the dry raspingof the rattle. Th e family joined in.Rain dripped through the smoke hole.The sick child shivered and whim-pered, his black eyes imploring.Miss Beard closed her eyes andprayed.After almost 25 years among theNavajo people, whom she loves, sheis keenly aware of the problem of sub-stituting Christianity for their primi-tive religion. T o win them aw ay fromthe dozens of superstitions that ruletheir every move is no small task. Onlydedicated people who sincerely carefor the Navajos as individuals couldendure the frustration and the heart-aches involved in missionary work.However, being a dedicated person,and having boundless faith, she workson, encouraged by small signs of en-lightenment that prove to her that mis-sionary work is bearing fruit; that thelittle leaven is working in the mass of80,000 Navajos on the reservation,some of whom have never heard of thewhite man's way of worship.The encouragement she receives istypified by the incident that happenedon a recent Sunday.The meeting room at the FlagstaffMission to the Navajos was filled witha congregation of Indians, mostly Nav-ajo, who had come for the morningservice, when a tall Navajo, his longhair bound into a knot, staggered upto the door.

Miss Beard invited him in."Oh, She-ma zani," he said in Nav-ajo, meaning "older mother," the namegiven to Miss Beard since her hair hasturned gray, "I am so ashamed of my-self because I get drunk, lose my

money . So I want to come here. Iwant to find ou t what they got." Hepursed his lips, inclining his head to-ward the other Navajos.They needed no signal from MissBeard or her co-workers. Volublythey began telling the tall man whatthey had that was now precious tothem, and he listened intently."We just stood back and listened,too," Miss Beard reported. "It waswond erful." He r kind, patient facebroke into a smile and her eyestwinkled. "A nd, of course, that 's what

we've been working for all these years."She looked out the back window tothe foundation upon which the missionchurch will be built when funds areavailable and there was no discourage-ment in her bearing.All that there is herethe Mission,an old house made over; and the frontpart of the church-to-be, at presentserving as a storehousehave beenmade possible through the generosityof church groups and individuals allover the United States. Those walls

will rise, she is sure, in time to housethe congregation that is already aboutto overflow the meeting room in theMission. The leaven is working.20 DESERT MAGAZINE


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h e s e M o u n t a i n s A t eBy LOUISE WERNERPhotos by Ni les Werner

H O S E M O U N T A I N E E R S w h ohave enjoyed the exhileratingexperience of climbing in the

Parque Nacional deThe park extends 60 miles

Actually the park was tentatively

The San Pedro Martyrs are only forprecipitous character. This fact

chool in San Diego became lost in theimely rescue by Mountaineer Edwardernhard, Sierra Club member of Cor-onado who happened to be cl imbingin the region at the time.

The misadventure occurred duringEaster week this year when RoyDowns, 55, Richard McBean, 18, andStephen Courtney, 16, of the BrownMili tary Academy hired a pack muleat the Meling Ranch for a 4-day out-ing in the San Pedro Martyrs.

When the Downs party, due back atthe ranch Thursday, Apri l 18, had notreturned by Friday, Mil t Farney, whohad flown in to spend Easter with theMelings, circled the forest above andto the east of the ranch in his plane,in an effort to spot smoke signals orother evidence of the whereabouts ofthe missing party, but without success.The pine forest, extending for sixtymiles roughly north and south betweenelevations of 6000 and 9000 feet (westto east) is about 25 miles wide as a

J U L Y , 1 9 5 7

The San Pedro Martyr Range,highest on the peninsula of BajaCalifornia, is a majestic pine-cladlandmarkbut with neither trailsnor habitations and only limitedwater. It is a pla ce to be exploredonly by skilled mountaineers. Thisstory reveals the penalty that maybe paid w hen inexperienced h ikersselect this place for a holiday.

Portion of the San Pedro Martyrs sharp granite ridges rise above deepgorges that wind out to the floor of San Felipe desert more than 7000feet below.horse travels. A jeep road from theMeling ranch extends to the edge ofthe forest, but beyond that point thearea is accessible only to horse andfoot travel. There are no habitations,and few live streams or springs.When the mule came limping backto the ranch April 2 1 , Milt Farney flewout to the nearest phone, 40 milesaway, and alerted the coast guard. Theschool was notified and within a fewhours planes arrived at the ranchbringing relatives and a doctor, anda widespread search was started.In the meantime Edward Bernhard,who with a companion had been climb-ing in the range that week, started outwith Andy Meling, the ranch owners'son, and six Mexican vaqueros, to fol-low the tracks of the lost party. Two anda half days later the searchers reachedthe crest of the range at a point wherethe mule had turned back and thethree climbers had started down CopalCanyon toward the San Felipe desertwhich lies between the San Pedro Mar-tyrs and the Gulf of California on theeast.

None of the rescue party had everbeen in Copal Canyon, but Bernhardknew what to expecta steep twistinggranite-walled gorge where slick-rockwaterfalls would require either ropingor exhausting and dangerous detours.It was perhaps 10 or 12 miles to thefloor of the desert with a drop of 6000feet. Th e tracks of the lost men co uldbe seen where they had slid down thetalus slope at the head of the canyon.The route called for skilled mountain-eering."I'll go down," said Bernhard, "butnot alone. Give me one good m an."The vaqueros protested. "Muy pel-legro," one of them mu ttered. And yMeling spoke to them briefly in Span-ish, and then tossed them a coin andthey began flipping it. Marcario, theyoungest of the group, was the loser.Bernhard took a 50-foot rope fromthe gear, two kapok sleeping bags, andwhat food could be spared from themeager supplya can of soup and fourpotatoes. Also two quart canteens.Before parting Bernhard asked thata helicopter be sent to the desert below

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to pick them up . "W e'll never makeit back up that canyon," he told them.At first, he and the Mexican madegood progress, then the canyon nar-rowed to a slick-rock slot, and thelittle stream disappeared over the topof a ledgea waterfall impossible todescend.By using the rope it appeared possi-ble to climb 200 feet up the canyonwall and detour the waterfall. Thenfollowed hours of treacherous rockwork, ascending with only finger-tipholds, and rappelling down verticalpitches that could not be scaled other-wise. Marcario had never been on aclimbing rope, but spurred by his com-panion's instruction and encourage-ment he faced it like a veteran.Finally they arrived in a granitecrevasse 700 feet below the top of thewaterfall. The canyon ahead lookedgood. "We'l l be out in two hou rs,"Bernhard assured his companion. "Bet-ter keep yelling." Their shouts bouncedback off the granite walls, but a faintcry reached their ears. M arcarioshouted again, and cupped his ear.Again the faint cry. It seemed to comefrom down canyon.As they hurried ahead they contin-ued to shout. Again they were certainthey heard a reply. They con tinueddown the gorge scanning the canyonwalls on both sides. Finally Bernhardshouted, "Where are you? Make a

Edward Bernhard of Coronado, Cal-ifornia, Sierra Club mountaineerwhose skill and stamina led to therescue of three inexperienced hikersin the San Pedro Martyrs.move so we can see you ." Six hund redfeet up the steep wall a hand appearedfeebly waving a white rag. Th e wallwas too steep for climbing without

f a t k k t V m t i o n P h o t o s . . .The Desert Southwest is not all sand and space and whensummer comes the delightful pine country retreats are visited bythous ands of vacationing Americans. If you are amon g the everincreasing number of folks who record these happy moments on film,you will find that it will be funand perhaps profitableto enter thebest of these pictures in Desert Magazine's Picture of the Month contest.Entries for the July contest must be sent to the Desert Magazineoffice. Palm Desert, California, and postmarked not later than July 18.Winn ing prints will appea r in the September issue. Pictures whicharrive too late for on e contest are h eld o ver for the next month. Firstprize is $10; second prize $5. For non-winning pictures accepted forpubl ication $3 each wi l l be paid .HERE ARE THE RULES

1Prints must be black and w hite. 5x7 01 larger, on glossy paper.2Each photograph submitted should be fully labeled as to subject, time andplac e. Also technical data : camera, shutter spee d, hour of day, etc.3PRINTS WILL BE RETURNED WHEN RETURN POSTAGE IS ENCLOSED.4Entries must be in the Desert Magazine office by the 20th of the contest month.5Contests are open to both amateur and professional photographers. DesertMagazine requires first publication rights only of prize winning pictures.6Time and place of photograph are immaterial, except that it must be from thedesert Southwest.7ludges will be selected from Desert's editorial staff, and awards wi l l be madeimmediately after the close of the contest each month.

Address All Entries to Photo Editor'Decent 70Cz$*$fae PALM DESERT, CALIFORNIA

hardware. But downstream there wasa break where it seemed feasible toclimb out.Filling the two canteens Bernhardinstructed Marcario to wait for himuntil the next morning; then if theyhad not been able to communicate witheach other, to continue out of the can-yon and get help. They had becomeaware of planes and a helicopter flyingoverhead.Four hours later, after considerable4th class climbing (which the booksaid should not be done without abelay) he found 16-year-old StephenCourtney lying prone on a ledge thatcould be reached only from above. Anempty canteen and a knife were besidehim . His lips were swollen, his eyessunken and his fatigue suit with theinsignia of his school in rags.At first he seemed apathetic whenBernhard raised his head and held thecanteen to his lips. But soon he re-vived, and had to be restrained fromgulping too much water. After he hadeaten the can of soup he brightenedand began to talk.". . . no food since Sunday . . . Mc-Bean and I split a can of chili . . . whatday is it? . . . I heard you a long wayup the canyon . . . afraid you wouldn'thear me . . . sometimes I blacked out. . . w e w en t w ro ng d id n 't w e . . .leaving the stream . . . did the muleget back? I wanted to follow it, but Ihad never been camping before andwas over-ruled.""What did they do, leave you hereto die?" asked Bernhard."Oh, no! I couldn't keep up, andthen I got sick . . . you mustn't saythat . . . Mr. Downs is experienced.How are you going to get me out?"It was 5:00 p.m.and there wasnowhere to go but up. Bernh ard tiedthe rope around the boy's waist, andthen climbed ahead and then pulledthe weakened youngster after h im. Footby foot they made their way up 400feet. Th en it became dark and theyhovered around a small campfire tokeep warm through the night.

When daylight came they workeddown the steep walls to the creek andfound Marcario roasting the four po-tatoes. The remaining two miles tothe mouth of the canyon were easy. Ahelicopter was waiting for them there.After they had separated, McBeanhad found his way out of the canyonand was the first to be rescued by thehelicopter.Downs, who had left the boys Sun-day to go for help had gotten out ofthe canyon and turned north acrossthe desert. An dy Meling and his Mex-icans followed his tracks and caughtup with him the next day at the mouthof a canyo n three miles away. He ha dsurvived by eating cactus.

22 DESERT MAGAZINE


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. . .While camping in Joshua Tree

2Vi x 3Vi Crown Graphic

C T U R E S O FM M O N T H...

Shifting sand has long been one

1 9 5 7 23


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ON DESERT TRAILS WITH A NATURALIST -- XXX IXf/t O ctvi ( A , Only a

By EDMUND C. JAEGER, D.Sc.Curator of PlantsRiverside Municipal MuseumDrawings b y Morris VanDame

Nature, in her wise way. has given th eskunk a very convincing defense alongwith a revealing black and white coat whichits would-be enemies can easily spot andtherefore avoid. Here are Dr. Jaeger's per-sonal observations on the w a y s of this gentleanimal.

YEARS ago I lived onthe desert's edge in a smallframe built-by-myself shanty.Great rocky canyon-dissected brush-covered mountain slopes rose besideand behind me, and below flowed amerry streamlet that had its origin farback in one of the precipitous gorges.The whole environment encouragedthe presence of wildlife, ranging in va-riety from tiny strange-looking insectsand land snails to reptiles, birds an dmammals.I t was not long after I set up house-keeping that many of these wildernesschildren occasionally came in to sharemy not-too-commodious quarters. Aroadrunner sometimes walked into theopen door an d rested on the sunlitfloor; pack rats lived under the houseand with white footed mice came upthrough the knotholes and ran acrossthe floor at night. Another frequentafter-dark visitor was a nimble-bodiedspotted skunk whose small head an d

very narrow body made it possible forit to come in through a large knotholein a side-wall pine board, or througha very small open space beneath thecloset roof. All these animal neighborswere welcome and often amusing con-tributors to my knowledge of animalmentality, play an d feeding habits.Because th e dainty little skunk wasalways so full of inquisitive kitten-likeplay and so much given to new andprankish mischief, I soon regarded heras the most beloved and interesting ofall my small wild pets. She rewardedmy confidence in her innocence andwell-meaning by a very exemplaryodorless behavior.

This skunk's den was under a rock ina nearby clay embankment an d there,undisturbed, she spent the daylighthours. Generally at dusk, but some-times even several hours after, she ven-tured forth on her nocturnal quest forfood. When she came into the housethe dim light from my small kerosene

Striped Skunk

lamp enabled me to advantageouslywatch her.Susie, as I called her, caught micemuch like a cat does, by springingforward an d grasping them betweenher always nimble forepaws. Unlike acat, however, she never played withher prey, but ate it at once. She keptthe mouse population at a minimum.It was only because new mice keptmoving in on me that I had any ofthese soft-furred rodents at all.Spiders an d moths were gobbled upand eaten so quickly that I couldscarcely follow her actions. Of myfoods she above all adored bacon andher face an d paws were shiny withgrease after she grasped an d chewedthe bacon bits I placed on a specialhigh shelf for her.When strangers came into th e housefor an evening's visit she sometimesmanifested her displeasure and suspi-cion of new faces by rapidly tappingone of her forepaws on the woodenfloor and making a chittering noisewith her teeth. Once when a neighborapproached to o closely she gave thisevidence of her displeasure, men sud-denly, to my great consternation andfright, she prepared for full defense.The body was bent into th e form of aU with both head and hind end di-rected toward us; the tail, always sobeautifully plume-like, was held fullyaloft.For an anxious split second a sud-den fear seized me, that of having our-selves, the house an d everything in itsuddenly deluged with th e noxious pen-etrating suffocating odor of skunk ef-fluvia, shot at us through the specialanal papillae. Just why, at that criticalmoment, she desisted I shall neverknow. Had there been any suddenmovement on the part of either of usjust then I am certain we would havebeen sorry indeed.She intermittently played for hourswith a long empty salmon can placed

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Spotted Skunk and young

outside, rolling it back and forth, nodoubt enjoying each wispy scent offishy odor that came from its depths.One I threw out at dusk was found200 yards away next morning, no doubtrolled all that distance as she investi-gated and played with it during thenight.One night early in May I began tohear faint squeaky bird-like calls fromher den opening and I decided therewere skunk kittens inside. It wasn'tmany days afterward that I was re-warded on a moonlit night by thesight of four quarter-sized replicas oftheir white-spotted mo ther. They hadcome out of the den to frolic with heron a nearby grass tussock, and laterto go forth hunting spiders and insectsat which I found they were early adept.After that I frequently saw the gaylittle family party . I do not know ifit was a sign of caution or otherwisebut only once did the mother skunkbring a youngster inside my shanty,and then only for the briefest stay.Just below me some 500 feet awayan old short-statured whiskered pros-pector came to camp on the sand flatsfor the winter and spring season. Icould not help but like the jovial oldfellow but I found he had one occu-pation which I did not like, the trap-ping of wild animalscoyotes, foxes,wildcats and skunks. I was alwaysfearful that some day he would trapone of the animals of which I was sofond and which had rewarded my kind-ness by frequent appearances aboutmy dooryard. All went along ratherwell until late in February when sud-denly I missed the evening visits oflittle Susie. I suspected that she'd beensnared in one of Joe's traps, but, of

course, there was always the possibilitythat my pet spotted skunk had beencaught by the big horned owl whichnightly sent forth his voluminous"whoo-whoos" from the rocky emi-nence on the big mountain behind myhouse. Ho rned owls do just suchthings, especially when they have yo ungin the nest.The different subspecies of the smallspotted skunk (Spilogale) are wide-spread over North America from PugetSound south to Yucatan and from thePacific to the eastern and southern At-lantic coasts. It is most num erous inthe western states, especially in thearid Southwest. The desert-inhabitingspecies seem almost wholly confined torocky areas, especially along mountainborders. The sand and brush-coveredclay flats seem completely shunned bythem. They are very adept and agileclimbers and delight in clambering overrough surfaces and making their wayon journeys of discovery among rocksof giant proportions.While on their perambulations oc-casionally they come suddenly uponsituations of surprise that cause themto discharge their fated fluid. The odorlasts for many days but is never aslingering as that of the larger skunks.The spotted skunk is the smallestof all our skunks, about a third aslarge as a full-grown cat. Its plumywhite-tipped tail and long hair makethe animal appear larger than it reallyis . The skull is depressed in compari-son to the high-arched cranium of thecat-sized, more heavily-built stripedskunk . Ther e is always a white spoton the forehead, but the tail may ormay not have a white tip.Striped skunks (Mephitis mephitis),

quite plentiful in wooded areas of manyparts of the United States and Canada,are confined in desert regions almostwholly to the brush and tree-lined bor-ders of the desert's living streams suchas the Colorado River or the RioGrande. The little spotted skunks seemable to get along without water, butnot these larger fellows who must al-ways have ready access to it. They arepre-eminently insect hunters and huntin the leaf mold and decaying logswhich are found along stream bottoms.The female striped skunk is able tonurse up to eight or nine kittens. Oneof my most pleasant memories is thatof observing a mother striped skunkout on a moonlit night in a mesquiteand cottonwood thicket near Needleson the Colorado River, scratchingamong decaying leaves at the side andbeneath a rotting cottonwood log asshe searched for beetles and larvae forher five agile and much interestedyoungsters.

Occupying the often hot arid coun-try of southern Arizona and New Mex-ico and parts of Chihuahua and Dur-ango in Mexico, is the long-tailed orhooded skunk . It is a small slendercreature compared to its striped skunkcousin. Th e tail is bushier too, andmuch longer. The long white hairs ofthe neck and back of the head formthe cape or hood which gives thisgentle animal its common name.Sometimes the top of its tail, entireback and a narrow stripe along eachside are white.Occasionally I have seen these hand-some and active creatures shufflingalong a trail, leaving behind the marksof their long flat-footed feet. They seemto prefer the late evening and earlyJ U L Y , 1 9 5 7 25


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night hours for hunting along the bot-toms of brushy washes and cliff basesof rocky canyons for rodents, smallbirds and insects.In parts of southern Colorado, south-ern Arizona and Texas, the large Chi-huahuan Desert of Mexico and south-ward to Chile and Patagonia is foundthe heavily built but less active white-backed hog nosed skunk (Conepatus).

I have seen them only in the warmlowland valleys where their hair iscoarse and the normally black areasare only a brownish black. I am toldthat hog nosed skunks living at higherelevations have pelts with much finerand longer hair. Just why more mildtemperatures, greater altitude andhigher humidity should produce thiseffect is no t definitely know n. An d itis not only among skunks that thischange occurs, but also among othermammals. A somewhat comparablealteration takes place among certaingrasses. The wide spread tobosa orgalleta grass which in the hottest des-ert basins grows stems so coarse andrigid that cattlemen consider it almostworthless as forage, is fine stemmedand leafy at higher elevations.

This large slow-moving shy andrather slow-witted skunk with a some-what pig-like head seems especiallyadapted as a hunter of ground dwellinginsects, especially beetles !fand theirlarvae. Its shoulders are stocky, theclaws are long and heavy and its bareflexible snout enables it to locate androot out its chosen insect food from theloose soil and leaf mold. In prickly pearcountry the cactus fruits as well assmall rodents and birds are eaten.

The skull of Conepatus has manyspecial characteristics. The teeth aredifferent both in shape and numberfrom other skunks, and the nostrilsopen forward and downward insteadof on the sides of the muzzle. Theears are extremely small and the tailless plumy and snorter than in otherskunks. The re may be two very dark

Hog nosed skunk

bands or these may be completelyunited. The tail is generally purewhite and hence especially conspicu-ous when waved about on moonlitnights.The peculiar combination of blackand white of skunks has been regardedby naturalists as a warning coloration.Such colors, said Dr. E. B. Poulton,assist in the education of enemies, en-abling them to easily learn and re-member the animals to be avoided.

Having had one real experience withthe nauseous artillery of a skunkneither dog nor man would be otherthan foolish to menacingly approachor attack one.Because of their food habits skunksare among our most valuable mammalsand should be protected. If for anyreason they annoy, they can be trappedin box traps which do not injure themand transported to parts distant enoughso they will not return.

S P R I N G R A I N S I M P R O V E D E S E R TR I V E R R U N O F F F O R E C A S T SAbove average Spring rainfall hasconsiderably improved Southwest riverrunoff forecasts.Only over portions of the Great Salt

Lake Basin in Nevada and California'sMojave Desert were the water-flowpredictions reduced over the previousmonth's estimates.A water-supply forecast near 60percent of the 1938-52 average wasmade for the upper Humboldt Basinand near 82 percent of average forMartin Creek near Paradise Valley,Nevada. Other forecasts : Truckee,Carson and Walker rivers, 65 to 75percent of average; Owens River(which reported above normal rainfallin April) 75 percent of average; Mo-jave River, less than half of average.Near or above normal streamflowis expected for all streams in the GreatSalt Lake Basin except some of thesmaller creeks near Salt Lake City.

The Sevier and Beaver basins hadheavy April precipitation, considerablyimproving a critical situation there.Below average streamflow is still fore-cast for the Sevier basin while nearaverage streamflow is now expectedfor the Beaver River.Favorable precipitation has improvedthe outlook for the Colorado RiverBasin. Slightly above norm al runoffis in prospect for the drainage areaabove Cameo, Colorado, and for theTaylor Basin. Ab out 10 percent lessthan average streamflow is expectedfor the main Dolores and Uncompah-gre rivers. The runoff of the ColoradoRiver near Cisco, Utah, is forecast at116 percent of average.

Water-supply forecasts for the Yam-pa and White Basins in Colorado arefor 110 to 115 percent of average ex-cept for the Little Snake River wherenear 90 percent is expected. Fo r theupper Green River in Wyoming fore-casts of runoff vary from 75 percentof average for some of the smallerstreams to near 90 percent for theGreen River near Linwood, Utah. Nearaverage runoff is in prospect for theextreme upper Duchesne and PriceRivers, but below average streamflowis indicated for the remainder of theUtah tributaries. Streamflow for theGreen River near Green River, Utah,is forecast to be 109 percent of average.

The water-supply outlook for the SanJuan River Basin is for slightly aboveaverage streamflow for the entire basin.Streamflow of the Rio Grande'sdrainage area in Colorado is forecastto be near or slightly above the 1938-52 average. Near average runoff isalso expected for the Rio Chama inNew Mexico. Below average stream-flow is in prospect for the tributariesdraining the western slopes of theSangre de Cristo range in New Mexico.The runoff of the Rio Grande at OtowiBridge, New Mexico, is expected to be108 percent of the 15-year average.

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L I F E O N T H E D E S E R T

The persona l exper iences theshar ing of happinessare the realtreasures of the desert. Here is thedelightful story of a man and hiswife who brought two lone ly des-ert dwellers together and receivedfor their efforts a warm unendingfr iendshipand two gold mines .

By THOMAS W. MAY

7H E P R O S P E CTO R w ho w e hadjust met, made us welcome inher small cabin on the four orfive claims she was working in theRich Hill country of Arizona. We'llcall her Anna, but that isn't her truename.She was wearing a homemade bluedenim dress with a half-gallon pocketon the right side. Pulled tightly overher stringy rust-colored hair was aweather-worn felt hat, Anna's leatherybrown face, wrinkled by the burningdesert sun, revealed every one of her54 years of age.

And never think for one minute thatAnna didn' t know how to take care ofherself out there in the middle of no-where, for she appeared unafraid ofma n or beast. But, like most folks wehave met in the remote corners of thedesert, she possessed a big heart ofgold.My wife, Gussie, and I acceptedAnna's invitation and entered the smallbox-shaped cabin with its sheet-ironroof. The kitchen doubled as a storeroom. Behind the crude table wasa three burner kerosene stove. Nearbywas an oil lamp with a smoky chim-ney and nailed to the walls were roughplank shelving and screen-covered ap-ple boxes in which her food supplieswere stored.Between the parted burlap drapeswhich separated the kitchen and Anna'sbedroom I saw a topsy-turvy bed andan old iron strapped trunk standingopen. In a corne r was an old-fash-ioned dresser with a cloudy mirror, itstop crowded with innumerable objects.Anna kept up a s teady chatter mostly questionsin an accent whoseorigin I could not discern. As she andGussie prepared the evening meal andeven while we ate, the conversationnever lagged. We spoke on every sub-ject immaginable, from mineralogy tohealth and life on the desert to loveand family life.

Si

, ^ ' : \ > . . , .

The author at the entrance to one of the gold mines he and his wifereceived from Anna and Bill.

"Doesn't it get lonesome out hereall by yourself, Anna?" Gussie askedwhile we were on the latter subject."Som etimes," she answered. "Bu t,I have plenty to do to keep the lonelytimes from lingering."A grin appeared on Gussie's face."I would think you would run acrosssome nice prospector who hasn't beenas lucky as you, and who would makeyou a good helper on your claimsand a good companion," she said.Anna exploded! "You don' t knowthose old filthy desert rats like I do!"she cried. "I haven 't seen a one thatappeared to've ever had a bath, otherthan the one he got when he cameinto this world, and never expects totake another unless an undertaker getshim before the buzzards or coyotesdo!" She slapped the table top so hardthe dishes boun ced. "Now , I hope youdon't think I would marry up with one

of those varmints and put up with thatbillygoat scent!" she said in a shrillvoice.Gussie quieted her down with a ges-ture. "No , no, Anna," she said sooth-ingly, "not all of them are that way.We know a middle aged prospectorwho's not that dirty, don' t we Tom?"I don' t remember having answeredthat question.And then Anna's mouth broadenedinto a wide smile and she said, "Well,when the right man comes alongImight take on a partner."We spread our bedrolls on Anna'sfront yard that night, and after break-fast the next morning we said our fare-wells. Before we left, Anna handedme her bank book with some paper

money folded in it and asked me tomake the deposit for her.We arrived in Wickenburg before

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ihe bank opened, so we sat on one ofthe benches across the street."Look who is coming down thestreet," said Gussie after we had beenthere

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