194112 desert magazine 1941 december

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Ov ens Full of Gold . . .Chandler, ArizonaDear Si r:I enjoyed the story of the Lost Dutch Ovenmine by Mr. Rexford Bellamy in the Octoberissue of the Desert Magazine.Since the Lost Dutch Oven story appearedin my book "Lost Mines and Buried Treasuresof the Great Southwest," I have received morethan a hund red letters from people thr ough outthe United States and several foreign countriesseeking additional information as to the loca-tion of this lost mine.I am convinced that the mine now beingworked by Clifford Gillespie is the "LostDutch Oven Mine," said to have been foundyears ago by Tom Scofield. The fact that themine is located in the Old Woman mountainsinstead of the Clipper range only goes to showthat in searching for these lost mines the seek-ers should take in more territory. Old-timersdid not always know the exact locations oftheir finds and in the absence of a reliable maponly gave the approximate location. They didnot always know where one range ended andwhere the other started.Then too the man who discovered these richoutcroppings, in telling the story often delib-erately placed the mine in a nearby range or

mountain as they sometimes had a sneakingidea that they might want to come back andlook for it themselves. Moraltake in moreterritory. The author does not always knowthe exact location either. If he did the chancesare that he would locate it himself.Many an Anglo-Saxon is a prospector andtreasure hunter at heart. To discover a lostmine or dig up a buried treasure is the dreamof Eternal Youth. The wonderful thrill of sucha discovery cannot, however, be experienced byall of us. Tales of hardships followed by thefinding of a fortune in a lost mine or the dig-ging up of a hidden treasure fascinate us eventhough we know they are only fiction. Howmuch stronger then must be the appeal of trueaccounts of the finding of one of these longlost mines or treasures.Here's hoping that Clifford Gillespie takesout many Dutch Ovensfull of gold from hislost mine out there in the Old Woman moun-ta ins . J O H N D . M I T C H E L L Change the Signboard . . .Coachella, CaliforniaTo the Desert Magazine:Your October, 1940, issue carried a story byHulbert Burroughs on "Forgotten Oasis inEagle Mountains."Regarding the canyon he refers to as Monsenor Jack Fork, here is some additional informa-tion that may be of interest: I have an old gov-ernment map which lists this as Anshute can-yon.It was named for Charlie Anshute who du?a well in the rocks where the spring is seepingout, put in a gasoline engine and laid pipelines to some of his claims. He built a ladderit may be the same one shown in Mr. Bur-roughs' picture.Old-timers knew this waterhole as Anshutewell. He had a team, one black and one whitehorse. One morning they were missing. Hefollowed them. They had been stolen by twomen and a woman, Mexicans, and were head-ed for the border. Later Anshute's body wasfound where the thieves had killed him whenhe caught up with them.A posse took the trail, but the trio escapedto Mexico. Later they returned, and as nearlyas I can recall , one was hanged at San Quentin,and the others given long terms, to be deport-ed when they had completed their t ime. I be-lieve one of them died in prison.

As historian of the Coachella Pioneer socie-ty I am trying to have the sign changed to An-shute canyon. JUNE A. M. McCARROLL

nStuck in the San d . . .

San Bernardino, CaliforniaDear Mr. Henderson:Pardon me if I take exception to quiz ques-tion numbered 2 in your November issue.I claim to be an expert on getting stuck insand and while, when I first entered on mycareer at getting stuck, I was pretty "green," Ihave picked up quite a bit of valuable experi-ence.There is, of course, no doubt but that, at leastin the ordinary caseI can think of exceptionsat thatthe choice lies between the jack andthe shovel. You choose the shovel. I choose thejack.There are two grounds for comparison of thetwo tools: (1) the relative importance of theoperation performed by each; and (2 ) the com-parative availability of a substitute tool. Onboth counts the jack wins.On count (1), i t is far more important tolift the car from its "dug-in" position whereinit will probably be resting on its rear housingthan to shovel sand from in front of the wheels.Your greenhorn will shovel blisters onto hishands and cramps into his back with a net resultof finding his car sink deeper and deeper intothe sand. Your experienced desert driver willcalmly set up his jack, lift the rear end of thecar out of the hole, fill in a found^t-on ofbrush and rocks and roll out of his difficulty.On count (2), the jack also wins. I havebeen caught without each tool. The shovel iseasily replaceable as to function bv a fryingpan, a wash basin or any one of half a dozen

other pieces of equipment likely to be with you. As to the jack it is anoth er story. I was caughtnot long ago hopelessly stuck going up a sandywashand I had a shovel too. I remembered afence two miles back which I had fortunatelyobserved and I hiked back to it for a post to useas a lever. A hike in another direction pro-duced a rock suitable for use as a fulcrum. Withthis improvised jack I raised the car out of itssandy grave and got away. I think you willagree with me that the finding of these sub-stitute materials even under the difficulties in-dicated was an exceptional and unusual pieceof luck.It is not impossible to imagine a case with-out an undue stretch of the imagination inwhich a too wholehearted reliance on your an-swer might produce a situation with highly un-comfortable or even possible tragic results.ROBERT MACK LIGHTDear Mr. Light:Well, I rather expected to start an argu-ment when I suggested that the shovel wasthe handiest tool when stuck in the sand.As a matter of fact our staff mem bers did alot of debating over the subject.There is much merit in your side of thestory. I can merely go back to the fact thatin my own experience that includes beingmired in everything from earthquake crev-ices to cloudburst water, with numerousdunes thrown in I've relied on my shovelten times to every once that I dug out thejack.

We'll probably agree on one thingnot to put ropes or chains on the tireswhen in the sand. I walked 14 miles for atow car the night I learned that lesson.Thanks for your letter and more powerto your old jack. R.H.

Lost Dutch Ove n . . . Reno, NevadaDear Mr. Henderson:I am a reader of the Desert Magazine, andnoted your article in the October issue, con-cerning the Lost Dutch Oven Mine. For yourinformation will state that I have taken overthe Gillespie property, and my brother, Del-bert B. Mills and myself, have added it to ourholdings in the same canyon of the Old Womanmountains, and have formed a corporationunder the name indicated on this letterhead,and are operating the property.We believe the properties possess greatmerit , and when properly developed shouldmake a good mine. HOMER C. MILLS Porcupine Eggs . . .Pasadena, CaliforniaDear Mr. Henderson:On a recent trip into Utah I ran across themost curious mineral specimen you ever saw.Up near Mt. Carmel on highway 89 some-young children were selling petrified porcu-pine eggs at $1.00 each. I was told that thesespecimens were very rare, and that the only wayto find them is to hang around where porcu-pines are plentiful, and when you hear a por-cupine cackle, it is a sure sign that said "porky"has laid an egg. Then all you have to do is tohunt around till you find one, which might takesome three million years or more.The specimens I saw were cockle burs, tiedwith a pink ribbon.I didn't bring any home as I thought I mightfind good specimens in Imperial Valley.ROY CARSON Living Specimens W anted . . .Southwest MuseumDear Mr. Henderson:W e have had inquiry here from the authori-ties at La Purisima Mission, near Lompoc, asto where they can obtain a few cattle of therather small, black, rangy Colonial Spanishbreed with which the old California ranchoswere stocked in early days.It is hoped to make La Purisima a "livingmuseum" of early California and for this rea-son a small herd of the typical cattle are need-ed .W e know wh ere to find the right sheep, forthe breed formerly raised by the Navajo Indi-ans are still to be found in remote portions ofthe reservation, and these are direct descend-ants of the sheep brought in by the Spanish col-onists.Perhaps some of your readers can tell uswhere to find the cattle.Wishing continued success to the magazine,I remain, M. R . HARRINGTON No My stery in the Maze . . .Los Angeles, CaliforniaEditor, Desert Magazine:In your October issue you have a letter fromFredrick C. Butler regarding the mystery mazenear Needles.The January, 1933, number of Tourin g Top-ics, Page 32, has an article stating that theridges of rock is the work of the contractorwho built the Santa Fe bridge at that point. Heused a scraper to line up the rocks so theycould be shoveled into the wagons. He claimsto have saved almost $1 per cubic yard by get-ting his material in this manner. He started toget his rock from a quarry.The Touring Topics also quotes a paragraphwritten in 1891 for "Transactions of the Ameri-can Society of Civil Engineers," pages 692 and693.The above may help you take the mystery outof the maze. CHARLES PUCKT HE D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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D E S E R T

NOV. 28-30 Fifth annual Papago In-dian fair and rodeo, Sells, Ari-zona. Richard Hendricks. chair-man .

DEC. 2 Annual PapagO fiesta of SanXavier delBac, 9 miles south ofTucson, Arizona.4-6 Border Days celebration at Cal-exico, California.6-7 Sierra Club of Southern Califor-ni a toweekend inLittle San Ber-nardinos. Camp in BoxCanyon,hike to Hidden Springs andGrotto canyon. Steve Ragsdaleof Desert Center, leader.7 AllBreed Dog show, Desert Innmashie course, Palm Springs, Cal-ifornia.7-JAN. 3 Annual Christmas Illumina-t ion pageant , Madrid, New Mex-ico.10-13 Four performances of Romberg'slight opera. TheNew Moon, bySalt Lake City Opera association,at South high school, Salt LakeCity, Utah.11-12 Annual fiesta of Tortugas Indi-ans, featuring Los MatachinesDance, Tortugas Indian village,New Mexico.12 Fiesta of Nuestra Senora deGuadalupe, Taos and Santa Fe,New Mexico.13-15 Santa Fe Trail days, Santa Fe,New Mexico.20-21 Eagle Can yon, bran ching fromPalm Canyon back of PalmSprings, will attract Sierra clubmembers. Fluorescent mineralswi l l be shown at Saturday nightcampfire program. Paul Kegley,13 3 S. Kenmore, Los Angeles,leader.28 Presentation of Handel 's TheMessiah by Salt Lake Oratoriosociety, direction of Dr. Adam S.Bennion, Salt Lake City.29-JAN. 1 Southwestern SunCarnival,El Paso, Texas. Dr. C. M.Hen-dricks, Mills Bldg., director.Fortnight before andafter ChristmasPresentation of old MiraclePlays: LosPastores, L'Aparicionde Nuestra Senora deGuadalupe,etc., inSanta Fe andmany Span-ish-American villages of NewMexico.Early in DecemberShalako Dancesan d New House ceremonials,Zuni Indian Pueblo, NewMex-ico.No fixed datesYe-be-chai and FireDances, Navajo Indian reserva-tion in New Mexico.

FO R C H R I S T M A S . . .W h a t finer complimentcany ou pa y y ou r fr iend than thegift of a q u a l it y m a g a g i n e the D e se rt M a g a z i n e .

^ P mm^V o l u m e 5 DECEMBER, 1941 Number 2C O V E R John Hilton and Harlow Jones enjoy a Desert

Campfi re .LETTER S C o m m e n t f r o m D e s e r t M a g a z i n e r e a d e r s . . . 2CALENDAR Curren t even ts onthe deser t 3P H O T O G R A P H Y Prize winning pictures inOcto b e r 4T R A V E L O G Mounta in Cl imbers of the Pa lm Family

By RANDALL HENDERSON 5HUMOR Hard Rock Shorty ofDea th Va l l eyBy LON GARRISON 8C R A F T S There ' s No Mystery About Arrowheads

By M. R.HARRINGTON 10PUZZLE D e s e r t Q u i z A T e s t of Y o u r D e s e r t K n o w l e d g e . 1 3G E O L O G Y W e W e n t toMono Cra ter s for O b s i d i a n

By M O R A M.BROWN 14PLACE NAM E S Orig in ofN a m e s inthe Sou thwest 13ART O F LIVING Desert Refuge, By MARSHAL SOUTH 19P O E T R Y An I n d ian ' s Rev e r ie , an d o th e r p o em s 21LANDMARK P u e b l o B o n i t o , B y M R S . J . M . W A R N E R . . . . 2 2C O N T E S T M o n t h l y p r i z e c o n t e s t a n n o u n c e m e n t . . . . 23A D V E N T U R E A d v e n t u r e o n For t if icat ion Hil l

By HULBERT BURROUGHS 24L O S T M IN E S Lost S a n P e d r o M i n eB y J O H N D . MI TCHELL 29

B O O K S Ghost Town, an d o ther rev iews 34MINING Briefs from the desert region 36N E W S Here and There on the Desert 37WEATHER Dese rt t em p e r a tu r e s inOcto b e r 40HOBBY Gem s an d M in e r a l sEdited by ARTHUR L. EATON 41CO M M ENT 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 6

The Desert Magazine is published monthly by the Desert Publishing Company, 636State Street, El Centro, California. Entered as second class matter October 11, 1937, atthe post office at El Centro, California, under the Act of March 8, 1879 Title registeredNo. 358865 in U. S. Patent Office, and contents copyrighted 1941 by the Desert PublishingCompany. Permission to reproduce contents must be secured from the editor in writing.RANDALL HENDERSON, Editor. LUCILE HARRIS, Associate Editor.

Dick Older and A. J. Kupiec, Advertising Band Henderson, CirculationManuscripts and photographs submitted must be accompanied by full return post-age. The Desert Magazine assumes no responsibility for damage or loss of manuscriptsor photographs although due care will be exercised for their safety. Subscribers shouldsend notice of change of address to the circulation department by the fifth of the monthpreceding issue.

SUBSCRIPTION RATESOne year, including gold-embossed loose leaf binder $3.00Two years, including binders for both years 5.00You may deduct 50c each for binders if not desired.Canadian subscriptions 25c extra, foreign 50c extra.

Address correspondence to Desert Magazine, 636 State St., El Centro, California.

D E C E M B E R , 1941


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By ROLF TIETGENSAlbuquerque, NewMexicoFirst prize in the October photographiccontest went to this portrait of a Navajo In-dian. Taken with a Rolleiflex 21/4x2V/4 cam-era, Panatomic X film, no filter. F:5.6, 1/50sec.

Special MeldThe following photos were adjudged tohave unusual merit:"Thistle Sage Blossom," by Howard A.Bell, Trona, California."Rider andHorses," by Gladys M.Relyea,Salt Lake City, Utah."Gopher Snake," by Aries Adams, El Cen-tro, California.

By ROBERT J. SCHULZLos Angeles, CaliforniaWinner of the second prize in this month'scontest is the photo of one of the color-banded conical formations in Petrified Forestnational monument, Arizona. Taken with a

Kodak 620Monitor, infra-red film. "F" filter,1 sec. at F:22. D-76developer, 9 min.Koda-bromide paper No. 3.


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Kofa massif viewed from the w est. Entrance to C liff can-yon is in the shadow at the left center of the picture. Carsgenerally are parked to the left of the low black hill in theforeground.hooking down Kofa Palm canyon. The gorge is so narrowthe sun reaches the bottom of it only a feiv hours each day.Although palms must have plenty of moisture, no waterreaches the surface here. Photo by Emil Eger.

You wouldn't go to desert sanddu nes looking for orchidsnorwould you normal ly go to therugged Kofa mountain in north-ern Yuma county, Arizona, look-ing for wild pa l m trees. But thepalms are there neverthelessgrowing in a steep narrow slot ofa canyon in the heart of a greatmassif of volcanic rock. Here is astory about one of the botanicalrarities of the Southwestin anarea every desert traveler willwant to visit sooner or later.

M ountain (2llmbet5the Palm ramlluBy RANDALL HENDERSON

E of the myths often quoted bywriters not too familiar with theirSouthwest is that Saguaro cactusin its native habitat never grows west ofthe Colorado river, nor the Washingtoniapalm east of the river.Since rainfall, elevation and time arethe only factors which normally limit thespread of botanical species, it would seemodd if the meandering Colorado were animpassable barrier between two of theD E C E M B E R , 1 9 4 1

most conspicuous plant forms on theAmerican desert.But it isn't true!Many years ago on a trip to Laguna damabove Yuma I saw fine specimens of theSaguaro on the west side of the river.These cacti are now well known to deserttravelers. They are identical with thespecies that grow across the stream inArizona.And there are native palms in Arizona

in the Kofa range in northern Yuma coun-ty. There may be other palm oases in Ari-zonaI am not sure. But Nature placedthe Kofa palms in a setting so unusual asto give them a distinctive place among thebotanical rarities of the Southwest.You might go to Kofa range huntinggold or mountain sheep, or the exhilera-tion of a hazardous adventure in mountainclimbingbut never in quest of palmtrees.

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easily passable. Many of the visitors toKofa palm canyon park their cars at thispoint. However, those who do not mindthe rocks can go another mile and a half.Our party camped near the secondbutte, 8.4 miles from route 95. The hikefrom this point to Kofa palm canyon weestimated at IV2 miles.It was a dry camp, but dead ironw ood isplentiful in this area and as we sat aroundthe campfire that night, Bert Stitt told usof the interesting experiments he and hisassociates had made years ago for the de-partment of agriculture when he was sta-tioned at the Bard experimental farm nearYuma. One of their assignments was toconvert the juices of certain desert shrubsto rubberand they had considerable suc-cess in a small way. The project has never

Kofa canyon palms in fruit.Photo by Emil Eger.

There are many natural tanks in theKofa range which hold water for afew days or weeks following rainstorms. Arthur Johnson (left) andRand Henderson slopped for lunchbeside this tinaja during a recentascent of the peak.been considered commercially feasible,however.It was an October night, just coolenough for a sleeping bag to be comfort-able without extra blankets. We were upbefore sunrise next morning with flap-jacks for breakfast and lunches in ourpacks.Kofa massif loomed ahead like a gigan-tic fortress, vertical walls rising hundredsof feet from the floor of the desert, sharp-angled points silhouetted at the top likesentry towers.The closer we approached the mountainthe more I wondered how members of the

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palm clana family of tropical and semi-tropical dwellerscould have wanderedoff into this wild rugged region. As thesun rose higher a deep cleft became visiblein the dark-stone wall ahead of us. "Theentrance to Cliff canyon," our guide said,and that was our immediate objective.We had to pick our way carefully overthe lava boulders strewn over the desert.We gained altitude rapidly. By keepingwell to the left the hiker may encounteran old sheep trail that enters the mouthof the gorgebut it eventually leads toa terrain that is too steep for humans, andthen it is necessary to scramble down tothe floor of the arroyo again.I was so busy climbing over and aroundthe boulders at the mouth of Cliff can-

yon I did not realize what progress wewere maknig until suddenly I passed fromsunshine into shadow. I looked up andsaw that the massive walls of the canyonportal had closed in on both sides of me.In such a spot it is easy to understand theawe which the primitive races of men heldnot only for the invisible forces of Na-ture, but also for the stupendous thingsin their physical environment. Betweenthe walls of that great gorge a human be-ing is a very insignificant thing indeed.Boulders as big as barns had tumbledfrom the sidewalls, or had been carriedby the tremendous power of water fromhigh up in the range at the headwaters ofthe streambed.

Kofa is a strange mountain. It is virtu-

Hard R ock S hortyof D eath V al ley . . ."The way cars go whizzin' byhere," commented Hard R o c kShorty, "I can't help thinkin' o' thetime Pisgah Bill brung the first onein here to Inferno."Hard Rock leaned back in hischair and turned the leaves of mem-ory back to the time of the firstautomobile. He was a little astound-

ed at how far back it really was butwent on with his yarn."Yes sirI was settin' right herewhen Bill drove 'er up, steamin' likea hunnerd gallon teakettle. Sayour eyes stuck out like they wasparts of a telescope. An' was Billproud! Just like he had a pet pig!But he didn't give us time to lookwanted to get on home and showit to the family an' it was about darkthen."Early next mornin' I walked outto get a better look. Bill'd jacked upone back wheel an' was changin' atirefirst time I ever seen it donean' I jumped in to help. 'Bout thattime the sun come up an' startedshinin' on the front o' the car an'purty soon I hear a kind o' rumblin'noise an' the wheel starts to turnaround."Bill hollers like he'd steppedbarefoot in a cholla. The sun wasboilin' the water in the front o' thething, an' I seen she was a steamcar."Bill was jumpin' around like akangaroo. 'It'll boil all the waterout,' he yells, 'an' the windmillain't workin' an' I ain't got no morewater.'

By LON GARRISON' 'Shucksthat's easy,' I tells 'im,'Just hook that hind wheel on thewindmill an' she'll pump.'"So we gets a hunk o' belt an'hooks the automobile on the wind-mill an' it starts pumpin' like theywas a 40-mile gale. Wasn't long 'tilthey was water enough to run thecar, water the stock, an' irrigate the

garden too. Then I notices that themwind fans on the windmill iswhizzin' around an' kickin' up aawful dust over by the house. So Idumb up, swung the head aroundso it aimed at the house an' like toblowed Mrs. Bill off the porch. Itdid blow the wash line down an' amile an' a half out across the brushafore I c'd get it aimed different."But that give Bill a idea an' heused that breeze to air conditionthe house, cool down 'is barn, an'even to try some diffrent gardencrops. But, when he forgot to turnit off one night an' it run longenough to freeze the corn he quitthat."Would be workin' yet but forthat sand storm that come up oneday while Bill had 'er all hooked up.The sandstorm was blowin' sandat the windmill and the windmillwas blowin' it right back. Resultwas that sand drifts started formin'right there in the air and after whilethey got so heavy the old law ofgravity took a hand and all the sandpiled up on the car and windmilland covered 'em both up. They'restill there if somebody wants totake the trouble to dig 'em out.

ally without running water. During manytrips into and over and around the rangesince that first excursion I have neverfound a spring big enough to fill a can-teen. True there are many natural tankswhich carry water for a few days or weeksafter a rainfall. But during the long des-ert droughts, Kofa, on the surface, is asdry as the Sahara. The Indians evidentlylearned this long ago for I have neverfound a potsherd or glyph or ancientcampsite in or around the range.

Yet despite this apparent lack of sur-face water, every tiny ledge and crevicein the great bulk of Kofa has green vege-tation the year 'round. Evidently the hugeblock of volcanic rock which comprisesKofa mountain proper is shattered andporous, and stores great quantities ofmoisture within its mass.When you go looking for Kofa palmsthis vegetation will interest you because itis easy for an untrained eye to mistakesome of the very luxurious yuccas whichgrow high up on the rock walls for palmtrees.Ascending Cliff canyon, the narrowgorge in which the palms are located isthe third tributary on the left. These littletributaries are not entitled to be calledcanyons. They are little more than en-larged crevices in the cliff."It is easy to pass the Kofa palms with-out seeing them," Stitt cautioned us."Only the tops of the trees are visible fromthe floor of Cliff canyon, and they soonpass from view."However, the entrance to the slot inwhich the Washingtonias grow has twolandmarks. Nature's marker is a pinnacleof rock which nearly closes the entranceto the narrow gorge. Man's landmark isa cairn of rocks stacked on a boulder. Acloudburst might readily sweep away thecairn, but the tepee-like pinnacle will sur-vive many storms.On that first trip to Kofa palms weclimbed around the left side of the pin-nacle, and a steep, tough climb it was.There are two almost vertical pitches eachabout 20 feet high which call for carefulfinger and toe progress. However, someone had leaned the trunk of a dead palmtree against the wall of the lower fall andby shinnying up that trunk like a SouthSea island native gathering coconuts itwas easy to get over that obstacle. Sincethen, the wear and tear of the elementsplus the clawing of visitors have worn theold palm tree to a mere shred, and it is nolonger any help.The easier way to the palms now is totake the route up the chimney on the rightside of the pinnacle. It is steep but thereare good foot and hand holds all the way.Any healthy person will make the ascentwithout difficulty.In case you do not wish to go all theway to the upper palms, I've counted themtwice. There are 52all healthy membersof the genus Washingtonia, species filifera.T H E D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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Information as to the discovery and sci-entific classification of these Arizonapalms is contained in a monograph pub-lished by Dr. L. H. Bailey of Cornell uni-versity in 1936. Dr. Bailey wrote:"The information that led to the dis-covery of an indigenous palm in Arizonawas secured by Peter T. Robertson ofYuma from William Hoy of Quartzsite.Mr. Robertson was convinced that genu-ine palms, not merely yuccas, had beenseen in the vicinity of the North Star mine,and published this information in theYuma Sun August 1, 1923. Local repre-sentatives of the department of agricul-ture, Harry A. Gunning and H. G. Mc-Keever were interested to verify this re-port and a visit to the North Star districtwas made in August, but was not success-ful in locating the palms. More definiteinformation was secured later from A. J.Eddy, which led to another attempt beingmade in October, when Messrs. Ginningand McKeever were accompanied by R. D.Martin of Sacaton. True palms were foundOctober 24, growing in narrow steep can-yons of a mountain between Quartzsiteand Castle Dome."

Later the same year O. F. Cook of theU. S. department of agriculture visited thepalms to identify them botanically. It wasreported in the newspaper account of thetrip that "Mr. Cook intends to describe itas a new species to be called Washington/'aarizonica." This name, I believe, however,was never officially published accordingto the rules of botanical classification.Dr. Bailey in his monograph on Wash-ingtonia states, "I visited the Arizona can-yon in the fantastic Kofa mountains in1934 and obtained specimens and photo-graphs. I regard the tree as W. filifera."There are minor differences betweenthese trees and the filifera that grows onthe Southern California desert, but Dr.Bailey is of the opinion that these differ-ences are only the normal variations dueto a different environment. I believe amajority of the botanists have acceptedDr. Bailey's classification.The Kofa palms are not confined en-tirely to this one canyon. I saw greenfronds poking their ragged tips above theboulders in three other crevices high upon the rocky wall. Charles T. Vorhies ofthe Arizona experiment station estimatedthere are 65 trees in the area. I am suresome of them could be reached only byroping down from the cliffs above."My altimeter showed an elevation of1825 feet at the base of the mountainwhere we camped, 2250 at the entrance toKofa palm canyon, and nearly 3000 atthe topmost palm in the narrow gorge.Since that first trip to Kofa palm can-yon in 1935 I have returned there manytimes, including three trips to the 4680-foot summit of Kofa peak. The easiest as-cent is from the northeast wing of themountain.The name Kofa is a derivative from

Here's a picture to puzzle over. Poor light and limited space makes photographydifficult in K ofa Palm canyon. This photographer finally became disgusted, turnedhis lens straight up toward the sky and snapped the shutter. This is what he got.King of Arizona mine which lies nearthe southern base of the mountain. Theold prospectors have another name for itone that could hardly be repeated in po-lite society. They call it S. H. mountain,and it appears that way on some of themaps. When you drive along the Yuma-Quartzsite road with the mountain out-lined against the eastern sky you will seethe silhouette that prompted the highlydescriptive term used by the old-timers.

"Fantastic mountain," Dr. Baileycalled itand that is an excellent wordfor this strange massif of volcanic rock.

My most enjoyable trips into this mas-sive jumble of rock were following rainstorms when the natural tanks were filledwith water. But Kofa is always interest-ing. Whether you are botanist, geologist,artist, rock-climber, or merely a memberof that great fraternity of outdoor enthusi-asts who love to explore the odd placesjust for the fun and adventure of explor-ingyou'll return from Kofa with a de-sire to go back there again and again andto delve deeper into the cracks and crev-ices and caves and recesses of this myste-rious mountain.

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How was it possible for ancient Indians, withouthard metal tools to make arrow and spearheadsfrom flint rock? It is a question that puzzles manypeople. And yet it is a simple processwhen youknow the right answer. Desert Magazine askedM. R. Harrington, curator of archaeology in South-western Museum, Los Angeles, who is quite an ex-' pert in the prehistoric method of fashioning toolsfrom rock, to explain the methodand here is hisstory.

'Tkete'5Myltety -flltoutftttowh.ead.5

By M. R. HARRINGTON[ J N EXCITED voice came to me over the telephone."I've found out howthey did it, and I thought you'dlike toknow.""You have found out how who did what?" I queried."How the Indians made their arrowheads. Why, even theSmithsonian doesn't know how they did it."I groaned inwardly, but a museum curator mustn't hurt peo-ple's feelings."All right," I said. "Goahead. Tell me howthey did it.""Well, they heated the flint real hot, and then they droppedwater on it"The old fable again! It surely dies hard."Have you ever made them that way?" I asked suavely."Well, no; but a fella told me""You just invite your friend to come down here to the Mu-seum and I'll give him ten dollars apiece for every arrowheadhe makes that way in my presence. As for the Smithsonian, itdoes know how the Indians m ade arrowheads and has publishedthe details a number of times. Just take this reference" I gavehim one "Nowlook it up for yourself." Then I hung upwitha clear conscience.When anyone asks medirectly, I like to tell them the story ofan incident that happened when I was on an archaeological

trip in eastern Oklahoma many years ago.I was working alone in a rock shelter one daymy partnerhad gone to town for groceriesand had found a number ofarrowheads, bits of broken pottery, animal bones, chunks andchips of flint, all buried in the ashes of an ancient camp beneathan overhanging limestone ledge. I had spread these all out on apiece of newspaper and was digging away with my trowel whenI heard hoofbeats. I looked around. An old Ozark mountaineerwas approaching, mounted on a bony white mule. He pulled upin front of the shelter."What ye reckon ye're doin' thar, stranger?" he demanded."Why, I'm hunting for Indian relics," I replied."Hev yefound anyyit?"I pointed to my treasures spread out on the paper."Wha t makes ye think them things is Injun relics? That bust-ed crockery looks like Spanish crucibles to me."

Pahute Indian in Owens valley making an arrowhead."I know they're Indian because I found these Indian arrow-

heads with them," I answered, not wishing to get into a longdiscussion.He chuckled in apatronizing way that made meyearn toswathim."Don't ye know, son, the Injuns never made them arrerspikes? They didn't have no iron or steel to cut hard rock with,and that flint rock's the hardest thing we got in these herehills.""How do you account for them then?""I allus figgered God Almighty created them things for useof the Injuns."It was several seconds before I could think of a comeback."I think Hegave them good brains. Anyhow I canprove thatthe Indians could make arrowheads with nothing more than thetools they had at hand.""Ye gotta show me," he said. "I'm from Missoura."From the pile of flint that had been collected by some pre-historic arrow-maker I selected a chunk that seemed fairlystraight grained and free from flaws. Picking up a round toughpebble for a hammer I struck it smartly against the edge of theflint"bop!""Zingg!" off flew a large flat flake.Then I repeated until I had a number of large flakes and theoriginal flint chunk was toosmall toyield anymore.Th e old man got down from hismule andfingered the flakes."Ye don't call these arrer-spikes doye?" he asked."Not yet," I reassured him. "This is just the beginning."I took a piece of deer-bone that hadbeen buried in the ashesand was still strong, almost greasy, cracked it with my ham-mer-stone and selected a blunt splinter. Then I selected a fairlythin, smooth flake of flint from thepile I had just made.

10 T HE D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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Holding the flake tightly in my lefthand I pressed the bone against its edge ata certain angleand pushed. Flick! Offsprang a little flake like a fish scale. ThenI pressed off another and another, remov-ing a little more flint here, a little lessthere. Then I turned the flake over andworked from the other side. In 10 min-utes I had a little leaf-shaped arrowhead.My friend was fascinated."That's fine, as far as it goes," he ad-mitted. "But don't ye reckon the durnthing needs a neck on it?""Just watch me." I picked up a thinnersplinter of bone and ground the tip on abit of sandstone until it suited me. Thentaking my arrowhead I started in to pressoff still finer flakes, first on one side ofthe base, then the other. In a few minutesI had made a stem; the completed prod-uct differing not at all from the ancientarrowheads spread out on my paper. Ipresented it to my visitor.The old man studied it as it lay in the

palm of his hand. Finally he turned to me."A feller cain't git too old to larnsomething new!" he chuckled. "Howabout lettin' me have that hammer-rockand that bone o' yourn, also a hunk o' thatflint-rock? I aim to show my folks some-thin'!"After he had left I took out my pocketknife and picked a lot of tiny flint flakesout of my left hand, then I had to look forthe iodine bottle. When I have time toprepare, I always protect my hand with abit of buckskin and put a wooden handleon my bone flaking-toolthings whichthe Indian flint-worker usually did.Of course there were variations in de-tail; but those two main processes, whichthe archaeologist calls "percussion," orthe use of the hamm er; and "pressure," orthe use of the flaking tool, were about thesame from the Eskimo of Alaska to theOna Indians near the south tip of SouthAmerica.Every Indian I have seen m aking arrow-headsand there are still some who knowthe artemploy the same methods; al-though today they may use a rusty nail in-stead of a bone-flaking tool. Written ac-counts of eye-witnesses, beginning withCaptain John Smith of Virginia, tell the

identical story.Smith wrote: "His arrow head hequickly maketh with a little bone, whichhe ever weareth at his bracer, of any splintof stone, or glasse in the forme of a hart;and these they glew to the end of theirarrowes." This was in the year 1609!Even white men who have learned flintworkingand a few can rival the Indianuse the processes I have described; al-though sometimes with different tools andthe use of a vise to hold large pieces.These large pieces offered problems tothe ancient flint-worker as well. In the firstplace flakes or chunks large enough for a

good sized knife-blade or spear head aretoo thick to be worked by simple pressure

First line four stages in the making of an arrowhead.Second line Three com mon types of point.Bone awl used as a flaker in the m aking of p oints.

Flint implements in Southwest Museum. Top, left to right bird point; an ordi-naryarrowhead. Lower roiv, left to right Atlatl dart point; spearhead; knife blade.D E C E M B E R , 1 9 4 1 11


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B Percussion. Roughing out ablade. Deer-antler mallet used.A Percussion. Knocking off flakesfor arrowhead making. Hammer-stone used.

CPressure. Use of the flaking-lool.

D Pressure. Use of a bone pointto shape the stem of an arrowhead. E A three-handed job. Use of theb attune rst o n e and deer-antler"pitching-tool."These five sketches by Myrtle C. Mclntyre illustrate the essential processes in the making ofIndian tools from flinty rock.

12 THE DESERT MAGAZINE


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such as I have described. So the Indianhad to rough it into shape by percussionwith his hammerstone or with a deer-antler mallet, knocking off large chips. Or,he tied his bone flaker to a stout longhandle that would give him more leverageand power to press off longer and largerflakes. Another method was a combina-tion of percussion and pressure, for whichthe services of a helper were needed. Heheld the flint against a block of woodwhile the workman set an antler cylinderor "pitching-tocl" against the edge at thepoint where he wished to remove the flake,and struck the tool sharply with his ham-merstone. Of course, as in all flint-work,the tool must touch the flint at just theproper angle, which can only be deter-mined by experience.

Just what is an arrowhead? Most peopleregard any chipped stone point or bladeup to six or eight inches long as an "arrow-head"but they are mistaken. True ar-rowheads are generally light and smallunder two inches in length although I haveseen undoubted arrowheads exceedinglywell made and thin that were over threeinches. The enly original Indian stone-pointed arrows that have survived to ourtime, whether in ancient dry caves, in oldcollections or in the hands of the Indiansthemselves, invariably have small thinarrowheads."Bird points"tiny arrowheadsarethe special joy of some collectors, but un-fortunately there is no evidence that theywere made especially to kill birds. For thispurpose most tribes preferred a blunt ar-row, sometimes with a knob of wood fora point. This stunned the victim but didnot injure its feathers.

I suspect that the tiniest "bird points"when genuine, were made as a stunt, likethe almost microscopic baskets some In-dians weave today. Most so-called bird-points were probably mounted, to givethem weight, on a hardwood forcshaft setin a light wood or cane arrowshaft, andwere used for general hunting and warpurposes.Next in size to true arrow-points comedart-points, used on the darts or lightspears hurled with the atlatl or spear-thrower widely used in America beforethe introduction of the bow and arrow andeven up to modern times in the Arctic andin some parts of Mexico. These are thick-er, chubbier points, seldom less than twoor more than three inches in length. Incases where darts with points still in placehave been found in dry caves they havebeen generally of this larger, thicker varie-ty. In some cases, however, you cannot besure whether a given point was used withan arrow or a dart.Points or blades more than three incheslong were mainly knife blades or spear-points, a statement easy to prove in thefirst instance because many stone knivesstill equipped with their original woodenhandles have been found in dry caves and

elsewhere. But strange to say I have neverseen an ancient spear-head, larger thanatlatl-dart size, on its original shaft, out-side of relatively modern Eskimo speci-mens.Now about materials. By "flint" I donot imply the pure mineral such as is foundin the chalk-cliffs of England, but the flint-like stones commonly seen in Americawhether w e call them quartz, chert, jasper,chalcedony or agate. Included too are un-related materials that break with a similarfracture called "conchoidal" or shell-like by archaeologistssuch as obsidian,or volcanic glass, which was one of themost popular materials for arrowheads inthe West. Also metamorphosed shale,which was pretty gocd, and more obdur-ate stones like rhyolite.

When the Indian wanted material forarrowheads he might look in certainwashes where he remembered seeing floator stray pieces of chert or obsidian; or hemight know a ledge where erosion hadexposed thin layers of jasper all ready towork. He preferred, however, to dig hismaterial out of the ground, because heknew it would chip easier than pieces ex-posed for a long time on the surface. Ihave seen ancient quarries covering acreswhere the very ground under your feet iscomposed largely of chips and implementsbroken in the making.

But the old "heat-and-water" myth stillpersists. And it is a more plausible the-ory at that, than the belief of people incertain countries that prehistoric arrow-heads are "fair?*arrows" or "elf-darts."

T R U E O R F A L S E Here's another lesson for Desert Magazine'smonthly class in desertology. You may notknow all the answersmost people knowless than half of thembut a study of these questions will help you acquire a finefund of knowledge covering the subjects of geography, history, nature lore, In-dians, botany, mineralogy and literature. If you get 10 correct answers you areabove the average. Fifteen is a fine score, even for a desert rat. More than 15 en-titles you to mem bership in that exclusive fraternity of Sand D une Sages.Answers are on page 30.

1Desert tortoises are hatched from eggs. True False2Joshua Tree national monument is located in southern Arizona.True False3The Supai Indians live in the bottom of Grand Canyon. True False4The roots of certain species of yucca are used by the Indians for soap.True False5Cactus wrens often build their nests in Beavertail cacti. True False6The old Bradshaw trail extended along the south base of Chuckawalla moun-tains. True FalseIndian tribesmen in the Rio Grande valley were growing corn before Coro-nado entered New Mexico. True False8 Tourm aline crystals often occur in lepidolite. True False9Camelback mou ntain may be seen from Phoen ix. True False

10Lieut. Ives was the first man to navigate the Colorado river above Yuma.True False11El Tovar hotel is located on the North Rim of Grand Canyon.True False12Scientifically, a horned toad does not belong to the toad family.True False13One entrance to the Petrified Forest national monument is on U. S. High-way 80. True False14Desert holly sheds its leaves when the winter frosts come.True False15 Boulder dam was built by the U. S. reclamation bureau. True False.-..16Kit Carson was a member of the Mormon battalion on its march to Cali-fornia. True False

1 7The book, The W inning of Barbara W orth, was written by Zane Grey.True False18Nogales, Arizona, is located in the territory acquired under the Gadsdenpurchase. True False19The Little Colorado tributary enters the main stream of the Colorado belowLee's Ferry. True False...!....20If you wanted to visit the Dinosaur national monument you would go to thestate of Nevada. True False

D E C E M B E R , ' 1 3 4 ; 13


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;> "ffa-j %Bi f e , : |craters. H ighly jittered picture by Frashers, Inc.

We Went toM ono (Ztatet*fiot Olrtidian

There are many places in the desert Southwestwhere obsidian may be found, but the location de-scribed by Mora Brown in this month's field trip forD esert Magazine readers is probably the dadd y ofthem all. Mono craters not only offer a fine assort-ment of volcanic glass for the rock collector, butthey provide an excellent opportunity to study theformation of this mineral at its source. Here is thestory of one of the most interesting geological areasin California.By MORA M. BROWN

jT I FEW hundred years agowhich,f / geologically speaking is only yes-terdayNature staged a wildjamboree in what is now the Mono basinof east central California.From deep beneath the crust of theearth steam and gas and molten rock werebelching forth from at least 20 majorvents and numberless smaller ones. Ifaborigines were roaming the desert inthose days it must have been a terrifyingexperience to come upon this scene ofviolence.But today those craters are silent. Theirlong pipes, driven deep in the earth, areclogged with obsidian. But in the soft

14

grey landscape which they dominate inspite of the nearness of the high Sierras,they seem to wait only the opportunity toblast forth again on another wild rampageof eruption.I confess to my shame that until lastSeptember, I knew nothing about theMono craters. Husband and I were plan-ning a vacation trip for Inyo-Mono recre-ational area. Mrs. Ray Gabbert of River-side, knowing we were a couple of rock-hounds, told us about the tons of obsidianto be found in the easily accessible craternearest Mono lake. She told us we wouldfind the whole group of craters worthy ofinspection.

Our car loaded w ith sleeping bags, tent,water containers and supplies for anyplace or weather, we went in search ofrocks and scenery with no fixed goal inmind. From Riverside we took Highway395 over Cajon grade, past the tungstenmine at Atolia, and up into Owens val-ley. Up there it was cold. Snow was fallingon the peaks.We stopped at Independence for a visitwith the Paul Ritch family. Paul is resi-dent engineer for the Metropolitan waterdistrict, and in the early reclamation daysof Idaho, he and my husband worked to-gether.We spent the three following days inT HE D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


15/48

the lovely cabin which the Ritches builtthemselves at Whitney Portal. With Mt.Whitney towering at the head of the can-yon, with overwhelming cliffs around us,with spots of snow and ice and sunshine,it was much more than beautiful.At Bishop we made the acquaintance ofone of the valley's best known and bestloved citizensW. A. Chalfant. It was in

1885 that his father P. A. Chalfant estab-lished the Bishop Register and made hisson a partner. Since 1887, the son has beenits only editor and publisher. For manymen, that would be a full time job, but inthose years Mr. Chalfant had been activein valley affairs and has found time towrite three authentic histories of his cor-ner of the world: "Outposts of Civiliza-tion," "Death Valley: The Facts," and"The Story of Inyo." He is now workingon a book about the Mono country.North of Bishop we climbed Sherwingrade, stopped to see the geyser at CasaDiablo, and came at last to an upgrade

where the big desert valley yielded toevergreens. Soon the ground under theevergreens began to change, until the earthwas replaced by a deep carpet of whatlooked like grey pebbles. But they werenot ordinary pebbles; they were the vol-canic material thrown far and wide whenthe craters were in action.We reached Deadman's pass. Therethe trees had thinned considerably, andthe grey color possessed everything. Onthe left we saw a symmetrical mound; onthe right were others, one so low it lookedmore like a lake bed. We didn't know it,but we were crossing the southern end ofMono craters.Soft, pleasing grey. Even the dayseemed to absorb the color, so that, undera bright sun, it had the weird tone we as-sociate with an eclipse. Then the craterslay behind us. But at June Lake Junctionthe highway again swung north, and weparalleled them all their 10-mile length.Symmetrical and beautiful, bold in thecontrasts made by trees and black obsidianagainst the delicate grey, they are likenothing we had ever seen. "They are likenothing," said Isaac Russell who studiedthem for the U. S. geological survey, "in

the United States or anywhere else to myknowledge."They made me think of sloping roundsteps set at haphazard levels. The highestAbove hooking from the obsidianheart of P anum crater toward the la-pelli slopes of the craters to thesouth.Below Amon Brown exam ines thecoloring in a piece of Mono craterobsidian. The two huge boulders inthe background are solid masses ofvolcanic glass.

D E C E M B E R , 1 9 4 1 15


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M O n O CROTER5 FROtT l

. - : : ; v . ' To Bridgeport ToUodie

7qJ(oqaPass

/ PUMICE ig


17/48

High Sierras, as seen from the "hot rocks'' on Paoha island in M ono lake.Frasher photograph. bubbles were lengthened by movement.This pumice is found on the surface of theflows. What we found had fallen down.Such are the rocks of Mono craters.Young rock. The obsidian has a fresh, un-weathered look, and it is plentiful. Andthere it waits in its unique setting for yourexploration, be you rockhound, geologist,or mountaineer.Should you climb the center crater, thehighest, you would be 2750 feet abovethe lake, 9480 feet above the sea. Vesu-vius volcano rises only 4000 feet abovethe sea, and it is famous. Stromboli rises

was forced through the vent. In somecraters it was forced up to a higher eleva-tion than the ring of lapelli around it. Theinner force, however, was not greatenough to expel it farther, and there ac-tivity ceased. Panum belongs to thisgroup.The third phase is represented by thetwo overflows which I mentioned before.Here the eruptive force was great enoughto force the hot obsidian over the top,through the encircling cone, and down theslopes. But this hot mass was not likemost of the lava overflow with which weare familiar. Most often the lava is ex-tremely hot, and liquid, and flows rapidlyand far, ending in low humps. But here itwas not extremely hot, only semi-liquid,and it pushed along in a thick sticky mass,cooling so rapidly that it fractured evenas it moved. It stopped abruptly in cliffsfrom 200 to 300 feet high. That is thestory.

From where we stood on Panum we no-ticed that one portion of the crater rangecontained an outcropping of black rock.That rock, we have since learned, is theoldest exposed rock in the group. It isthe remnant of an ancient volcano; it ishornblende andesite, and differs from allthe other outcropping in the range.Much farther south, and set westwardfrom the craters, we noticed two smallhills. Isaac Russell named them the Aeo-lian buttes. They are composed of pinkrhyolite.

From Panum we took specimens of thevarious types of obsidian, then returned tothe Benton road to see the overflow on theeast side of the craters. Russell calls theseoverflow coulees. I believe I'd call themHell's back yard. A huge jumble of obsid-ian all around us, a high fractured cliff ofobsidian in front of us, pandemoniumcongealed.Here we could see how pressure, not

Negit Island, also called the "blackisland!' This is the sm aller of the twoislands in Mono lake. Paoha island,the larger, is considered the ''young-est" crater in the M ono basin groupand "hot rocks" are still found there.Frasher photograph.

gravity, had forced its progress, how ithad oozed and folded and fractured as itwent. Angular blocks of it had brokenfree and fallen into the softer mass.Splintered particles of it had hardenedinto conglomerate. There were layers oflapelli in the black, caused by the show-ering of lapelli while the mass still movedand coiled.

We found banded obsidian here. Wehad seen chips of it in Nevada two daysbefore. Now we knew where the huntingPiutes found it. The bands are narrow,semi-transparent, and are formed of layersof microscopic crystals of hornblende,feldspar and biotite. The curves of thesebands, both in small specimens and inhuge rocks, showed the direction of theflow.Here we found, too, the froth of thevolcano, obsidian which was so filled withminute steam bubbles that it formed pum-ice light enough to float. Indeed, beforethe pumice had completely cooled the

a little more than 3000 feet, and it isfamous. Mono craters average better than9000 feet, and they are scarcely known.Why?

Is it quantity? Is it because there is oneVesuvius, and one Stromboli? Does asingle family of 20 volcanoes dwarf theimagination?Or is it that tourists, filled with expec-tations of the high Sierras, do not look tothe east? Or, if they do, perhaps they donot appreciate what they see because theyhave been given nothing to expect. Of thisI am sure: If Mono craters were in a placewhere there were no 13,000 foot peaks

to dwarf them, they would need onlythemselves to make them famous.Are they extinct? Could they repeatwhat they have done?Possibly, say geologists. Their location,and the line they follow, indicate that theywere formed along a fissure, probably abranch of the Sierra Nevada fault. Certain-ly they exist on top of volcanoes of theancient past. If, geologists tell us, therewere great earthquake activity again, if theold fault line should be disturbed enoughto allow the escape of hot undergroundsubstances, they could blast their songagain.If they should, I'd like to be on hand. . . but not in the front row.

D E C E M B E R , 1 9 4 1 17


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To Keep Abreas t of the RODEOGAM E and its HAPPENINGSIt s news about Rodeos and Roundupsis the most authoritative of any pub-lished in America. Rodeo Associationbulletin and Cowboy's Turtle Associa-tion news are published monthly.Those who enjoy poetry of the OldWest will revel in the abundance oftruly typical poetry that appears ineach issue of Hoofs and Horns. You'lllike Hoofs and Horns!Each issue is generously illustratedwith pictures of the people and placesthat are important to the current andpast history of the Range country.Don't miss a single copy!S u bscription R ates1 YEAR $1.003 YEARS $2.00 2 YEARS $1.505 YEARS $3.50

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D e s e r t P l a c e N a m e sM ag az in e is indeb ted to the research work done by the late Will C. Barnes,au thor of "Ar izona Place Names;" to Betty Toulouse of NewMexico, HughF . O'Neil of Utah, andMarie Lomas for N e v a d a .

Fo r the historical datacon ta ined in this de-par tment the D e s e r t

AR I ZO NA SAINT JO HN S, Apache county. Ac-cording tofederal guide, founded in 1874by Sol Barth who had just won severalthousand head of sheep and a few thou-sand dollars from some Mexicans in acardgame. Henamed his town in honor of thefirst woman resident, Senora Maria SanJuan de Padilla de Baca. In 1880, con-tinues the same source, its populationwas augmented by Mormons brought hereby Jesse N. Smith and D. K. Udall. Locat-ed on theLittle Colorado river. Pop. 1300. SNO WF LAK E, Navajo county. Datesback toautumn of 1878, when 12 familiesfrom the southern states arrived after 13hard months on the road. Named inhonorof the founder, William J. Flake and hisfriend, Erastus Snow, the latter being ac-tually thefirst Mormon settler in that partof Arizona. Situated on Silver creek, atributary of Little Colorado. Pop. 659.

CALIFORNIA NILAND, Imperial county. Town,located at junction of Southern Pacificmain line andbranch line toImperial Val-ley, originally known as Old Beach fromits proximity to the old beach line alongthe eastern side of the valley formed at aprehistoric time by a lake much largerthan the present Salton sea, and laterchanged to Imperial Junction. Niland, anabbreviation of Nile Land, was finallyselected by the Imperial Valley FarmLands association because of the resem-blance of this region to the Valley of theNile.

UTAH LEV AN , Juab county. Settled in 1868,p o p . 611. Two versions of name: As itwas originally located on frontier of civi-lization, it was suggested it be namedfrom the French Levan, meaning frontier.Brigham Young was present when thename was suggested andapproved it. Sec-ond version says it is derived from theLatin Levant, designating thepoint wherethe sunrises, the east. BAC CHU S, Salt Lake county. Namedfor T. W. Bacchus, manager of the Hercu-les Powder company. Prior to 1915 it wascalled Coonville, for a family of early resi-dents. BICKN ELL, Wayne county. Former-ly known as Thurber, settled in 1879-Named for Thomas W. Bicknell, who in1914 offered a library toany town inUtahthat would take his name. Twotowns ac-cepted his offerThurber and Grayson

(San Juan county). A compromise waseffected: Thurber was changed to Bick-nell andGrayson toBlanding, taking themaiden name of Bicknell's wife. FO UN TA IN GREEN, Sanpete coun-ty. Named for the green meadows and alarge spring on the town site. Originallycalled Uintah Springs. Alt. 5995; Pop.9 8 2 ; Settled 1859.

e N E V A D Ae RAWHIDE, Mineral county. Namedin 1903 by C. V. Holman, a Wyomingrancher and prospector, who nailed acow's tail to a post and tin box andover itput a sign, "Drop mail for Rawhide here."Later had a brief boom period, colored byspectacular promotion ballyhoo. From thefederal guide: The hysteria of Goldfieldhad passed its zenith and the mines hadsettled down to rich production; buteveryone who hadmissed out at Goldfieldand Tonopah was sure there were betterfields yet. TexRickard had just begun tolearn the tricks of showmanship; RileyGrannan, theracetrack plunger and gamb-ler was ready for fresh excitement; NatGoodwin, the most popular comedian ofthe day, who with his wife had beenbrought to Goldfield to inaugurate theelegant newtheater, hadcaught the goldfever. There hadbeen a strike in theRaw-hide district in 1906which had broughta few prospectors; later strikes provedeven richer. A 1908newspaper reportedRickard paid $10,000 for theRawhide loton which he was building a duplicate ofhis Goldfield Northern saloon. Grannanand Goodwin both followed him to thenew field. It is estimated between 4,000and 10,000 people rushed induring a fourmonths period. Within another threemonths, the trampled sagebrush was cov-ering over the land again, but the campdid continue, producing some $1,500,-000 in gold, silver, copper and lead dur-ing 15years.

NEW MEXICOe FORT UNION, Mora county. Estab-lished by Union troops in August, 1851,five years after Gen. Stephen Kearneytook possession of that section of N. M.,and was one of the earliest posts to be oc-cupied by troops in New Mexico. Themilitary reservation consisted of 51V2square miles and included the army post,ordnance depot and arsenal. It served asan army outpost for the protection of set-tlers as well as a stop on the OldSanta FeTrail. During theCivil war it was aUnionpost and played an important part. Nowin ruins. Recent proposal would includeit in national monuments.



19/48

On one of their tramps over the desert near Ghostmountain Marshal and Rider South came upon anold minea shaft that had been abandoned so longit was overgrown with shrubbery. A gold mine per-hapsbut the discovery that interested them was arusty pick which would fill a long-felt need atYaquitepec. Here is another interesting chapter inthe story of a family that for nine years has beenengaged in a glorious experiment in the art of primi-tive living on a remote desert mountaintop.

JQekuaBy MARSHAL SOUTH

EAL winter draws closer to Ghost mountain. But thesepresent fall days are full of a charm that is all their own.On the ridges the yellow flowers of the ramarillos arestill in evidence and invite the attentions of methodical bees.The sun has lost its fierce fire. But the rocks glow warm atnoonday and the wandering breezes that come to whisperaround the walls of Yaquitepec still have tales to tell of drowsysolitudes and the clean fragrance of yucca-studded, sun-glinted washes where the hours, marked only by the slow-moving shadows of greasewood and of ocotiilo, drift by insilence that is marred by no tick of clock or pulse of progress.Except when it storms. But that is another story. Storms areanother mood; the charm of the desert lies in its ever changingmoods. Fierce. Tempestuous. Vibrant with life and passion.Like a primitive woman, blending fierce love and savage fury.There lies the fascination of the desert. Do you seek for some-thing calm and ordered; methodic, dependableand listlessly"dead"? Then turn your search elsewhere; you will not findit here. Civilized man seeks stability for securityand its ac-companying stagnation and ultimate decay and ruin. But na-ture is wiser. Not along flower scented paths does real develop-ment, either of soul or body, lie.

Turn back the pages of recorded history. There you will findthat it was always the barbarianhe who knew heat and coldand bitter privationwho came forth, time and again, fromhis bleak wildernesses and overthrew the pampered dwellersin the cities of ease . . . himself, in turn, to succumb to luxuryand in time be overthrown by his hard-muscled barbarian suc-cessor. Wave upon wave from the north and from the waste-lands. Hard ice melting in the tropic sun. But that is nature'sway. Flow and ebb. Storm and sun. Thus does she preserve thebalance. Do not look for advancement in "mass." It is not done.It is done by the atomby the individual.These are the evenings of fires, and the primitive thrill andfamily bond that the leaping flames of the hearth can wakenas can nothing else.We are building a new fireplace at Yaquitepec. Sometimeswe think that if we are not careful we shall find ourselvesdwelling in a fireplace instead of a housethat the fireplaces,by sheer w eight of num bers, w ill swallow the rest of thebuilding. There are four of them nowexistentincompleteand just commenced. Of one the foundation only has beenstarted. That will be the big one. Another has its side wallshalf upthat is to be a double one that will warm two rooms.The third is the old standby, whose fire-blackened maw, yawn-ing beneath our big adobe stove, has flung cheer already overa range of desert winters.The fourth is an addition that rises now, with mud andgranite rocks, beside the "old faithful." Perhaps we should callit the Wild Geese Fireplace. For the wild geese started itsbuilding by their high, lone honking one night against thedesert stars. Going south. And early.We took counsel together.

Marshal and Rider South frequently make exploring ex-cursions into the desert area surrounding G host mountain.Here, as they pause in the shade at the brink of a dry water-fall, M arshal points to a crevice in the opposite canyonwall where he and Tany a once found a well preservedIndian olla.

This was another "sign" in a string of signs that spoke of thepossibility of a hard, cold winter. "We cannot finish the newroom and its big fireplace in time," we said. "And we mayneed, this year, more warmth than the old stove can give. Thequickest way is to build a brand new fireplace."So, in the course of timethings move slowly at Yaquite-pec, not because of indolence but because there are manyother things to dothe workmen assembled as for the build-ing of the pyramids. And the seven-year-old lugged rocks. Andthe three-year-old fetched mudin an old can. And the one-year-old sat in her high chair and yelped encouragement. AndPharaohhimselfgat him his trowel and hefted him his

hammer and began the fireplace. A good fireplace. And nowit is all but finished. Adjoining the old stove, and with an ar-rangement of smoke flues that would be an architect's night-mare, its yawning mouth will swallow with ease the very larg-est mescal butt that grows upon Ghost mountain. Or log ofjuniper. "Blow, blow, ye bitter winter winds!" The flames willroar and the sparks crackle. A successful fireplace! Victoriaapproves it. "Bee Hay!" she remarks solemnly every time shelooks at it. Victoria has academic leanings. She confers B. A.degrees upon everything that strikes her fancy. She has 12teeth now and is walking and starting to talk.A week ago Rider and I voted ourselves a day's vacation andwent on a long tramp. Rider looks forward eagerly to these ex-cursions which constitute a rare holiday in the regular routineof school lessons. Already he is a veteran "prospector." But

his prospecting is for strange plants and bits of pottery andbugs, for which he totes along a little sack and a small paperD E C E M B E R , 1 9 4 1 19


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box or two. This time we abandoned our mountain and struckout across the lower desert, among the barren rocky buttes andthe creosote-studded slopes and washes. The day was perfect;one of those glowing days of desert fall when the sun-warmthis just right for comfort and one can tramp for miles and mileswithout fatigue. Far off the distant mountains stabbed a skythat was a dazzling blue. The nearer ridges glowed above us ina mosaic of tumbled boulders and shadow-etched clefts.Through the crystalline air the gnarled junipers that clung alongtheir escarpments seemed close enough to touch. A sleepybreeze drifted from the hills, carrying with it the winey, aro-matic tang of greasewood and ramarillo and yucca and theodor of clean space. Underfoot the gravelly earth, weatheringsof ages from the gaunt, surrounding mountains, crunched be-neath our hide sandals. The grit of it and the soft, occasionalrustle of a creosote branch, springing back from the crowding ofour bodies, were the only sounds that broke the hush of a vastbowl of desert silence.And so, through a wilderness of blessed silencefor whichyears of familiarity have only whetted our appetitewe movedon. We had no plan save to tramp and explore. Chaparral cocksslipped away through the creosotes; an occasional jackrabbitflicked vanishing ears through the cactus.Under an aged silver cholla near the rocky toe of a ridge wecame upon a big mortar hole worn in a flat granite slab. Theblunted stone fragment once used for a pestle still lay besideit. The ancients had been here before us. But earth now filled

M SPRINGS

AT ITS BEST

Q o * Q o o d J t e c M U t h i s is t h e w a y w e p l a yThere's no finer place to enjoydesert life than the Desert Inna 35-acre garden estate in the midstof scenic splendors. So carefree andinformal, yet one of America's mostluxurious hotels. Enjoy your ownprivate bungalow; swimming pool,tennis courts; all-grass golf courseadjoining grounds. Delicious food.33 years under original ownership andmanagem ent of Nellie N. Coff?nan,Earl Coffman and George Roberson.

T H ED E S E R TI N NP A L M S P R I N G S ,T H R E E H O U R S F R O M L O S A N G E L E S

this forgotten grinding bowl. And the brown hands that hadheld the old pestle have long since returned to earth too. Aninquisitive little antelope squirrel perched upon a nearby boul-der and watched us with bright, beady eyes; then with a saucyflirt of his tail disappeared merrilya symbolic atom of bub-bling life.And so, in the glow of midday, amidst a wild clutter of rockson a lonely ridge, we came to a mine. We came upon it sudden-ly. And stopped, startled. A mineor rather an abandonedshaft, such as this waswas about the last thing we would haveimagined. We stood staring into it. The shallow shaft was part-ly filled. In the debris that formed its bottom lusty bushes grew.On the weathered mound by the opening lay a miner's drill,rust-eaten. On a rock beside it an old knife from which theyears had stripped the wooden handle. The gently swayingbranches of a big creosote bush wove a moving tapestry of lightand shadow over the ancient prospect. In the hushed stillnessone listened instinctively for footsteps. And heard none.

"I guess," said Rider presently, "this is 'The Lost Pick'mine."He pointed into the deeper shadows at the base of the creo-sote bush. And there lay the pick. Old and rusty as the drill,and with its handle weathered into crumbling grey rottenness.I stepped softly across and picked it up.The Lost Pick mine! Was this abandoned shaft really theone to which a desert wanderer had referred more than twoyears ago? Perhaps. We had almost forgotten. There had beenseveral nebulous lost mines in the rambling reminiscences ofthe old man. The "Lost Pick." The "Lost Blanket Roll." The"Lost Canteen." Rambling, disconnected storiesyarns whichthe narrator himself hardly troubled to believe. Fabric of dreamsand desert shadows; the dancing mirage of goldwhich it ismore blessed to pursue than to find. A fairy tale. Yet here wasthe old pickand the old shaft. We stared curiously into theshallow digging and poked speculatively at the sides with theold pickhead. Rider even clambered into the holeand prompt-ly forgot gold in the excitement of finding a perfectly magnifi-cent specimen of a dead and dried beetle.N o , there wasn't any gold there. At least not the foolishkind of yellow stuff that humanity sells its soul for. There wasgold of the sun and the silence and the whisper of the wind.Andfor ustreasure in the shape of the old pickhead whichdespite its years of weathering was in excellent order. For along time we dwellers on Ghost mountain, had needed a pick.And had been forced to do without one.So we took our prize and went away as softly as we had come.We had found the "Lost Pick Mine"and we lost it again,leaving it to its memories and its silence. There is no trail andwe shall not tell. Someonesometimedug there in hopes.Let the peace of the desert hold safe its memories.But the old pickhead, on a new handle, is now part of theYaquitepec tool equipment. Despite the fact that we share the

Indian belief that it is not lucky to meddle with old relics, thepick was something else again. It was "meant." And we took itin gratitude. There is a feel to such things which you will notfind in the textbooks. Maybe we are superstitious. Well, thedesert Indians were superstitious too. TIME

Day folloivs day in quick succession,In sivift and swifter moving flow,As with fanatical obsession,The years in rapid cadence go .And yesterdays todays tomorroivsAll merge as one mirage sublime,And all our joys and all our sorrows,Become receding specks in lime.Tanya South

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An O *tdia*A (leuelieB y E V A N E L L E M I T C H E L LSt. George, Utah

By his campfire he sits, in the evening,Huddled there, lost and alone,He hears the far wail of a coyote,Through canyons that, once, were his own.The smoke from his campfire is pungent,And he sees in the flickering flame,The faces of all of his tribesmen;He greets them, and calls them by name.In his memory, nothing is different,As it used to be, still it appears,Then, as he stirs from his dreaming,They fade down the long trail of years.Each day that passes, he lives it,Wandering, dreaming, a lone;Like a phantom, his form haunts the forests,And canyons, that once were his own.And so it shall be, 'til the sunsetOf life finds the Indian Brave,His forests and canyons will linger,When his spirit finds rest in the grave.

M Y D E S E R T F A S T N E S SB y E. A . B R I N I N STO O LHollywood, California

I'm in my desert fastnessthe silent paintedland,Where sunrise glories thrill me, and where,across the sand,Gleam splendors which no painter but GodHimself can show,In changing lights and shadows, spilled by thesunset's glow.Across the wide arroyos the broken buttesr ise h igh,And far beyond, the mountains, whose white

crests pierce the sky.The wine-like air brings to me the desert smellsI loveThe scent of sage and greasewood from mesalands above.I'm in my desert fastnessa barren solitudeNo clanging city noises outside my cabin rude.Only the gentle breezes across the sagebrushfloor,In low-crooned, soothing whispers, drift idlypast my door.Oh. glorious desert country, your magic spellI know!Your lure is strong, resistless, when from yourcharm I go!Your wild wastes call and beckon, in accentsglad and true,And your calm stretches soothe me when Ire turn to you!

W H E R E S I L E N C E L I E SB y L E L A M . W I L L H I T EMontebello , California

Within my heart is stored the dreamIt caught and held, from deserts bare;And coastland fog has no voice or schemeTo lure me from a trail so fair.I will hie me to some desert place,Though memory stirs to warn meTha t here winds blow in ceaseless raceAnd dust and heat dance in mad glee!I'll watch each evening's sun set clearAnd count the stars in the desert skies;Hold in my heart a picture of the drearAnd moonlit waste, where silence lies!

D E C E M B E R , 1 9 4 1

Chief of ancient Wai pi. Photo by Putnam Studios.G R E Y B E A R D S W H I T H E R ?

B y B ER TH A EY LSan Leandro, CaliforniaDo you wonder, as I do, who they are?These greybeards who wander on, by the roadWrapped in mystery they comeone by one;Pack on back and downward glanceDesert rat or from the hills, now perchance.None can tell me who they are, though I'veasked;They are neither tramp nor hobo I am sureAs they file along our highways on their erranthegira.Are they miners far too old to dig for goldWere they drivers of the teams of borax mulesHave they panned the yellow metal from thesandWere they hewers of the red wood for the millWere they herders of the sheep upon the hillDid they lead them by the waters that are still?Out of mists that shroud the lowlands in themorn

Into the heat of the burning noon-day sunAlong the highways still they comeVagrant tumbleweeds of fate rolling on.So my story has no ending save the oneImagination's pencil paints in the mind,'Til some ancient mariner of the road driftsalongWith a willingness to stop and I'll learn thereason whyThese venerable greybeards wander by.

CR E E D O F T H E D E S E R TB y J U N E L E M E R T P A X T O NYucca Valley, CaliforniaThe mountain slope is bleak with nakedrocks;While racing o'er their worn andshining face,A waterfall comes tumbling down

and mocksThe listless sand that idles at itsbase.21


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P U E B L O B O N I T O Mrs. J. M. Warner of Gallup, New Mex-ico, is the winner of the prize offered byDesert Magazine in October for the mostinformat ive s tory about the anc ient ru ins in the accompanying photo-gra ph . Mrs. W arn er identified this pl ace a s Pueblo Bonito in Ch aco can-yon nat ional monument in New Mexico. Scores of well-wri t ten manu-sc r ip t s were ente red in the Oc tober contes t and the judges agreed tha tselect ion of the win ner w as one of the most difficult tasks th ey h av e under-taken s ince the Landmark fea ture was s ta r ted by Dese r t Magaz ine foury e a r s a g o .

stone, bone and wood. Corn, beans andsquash were the main agricultural prod-ucts. Game was fairly plentiful, and cactiand wild berries furnished additionalfood.Exodus from the canyon appears tohave been sudden rather than gradual,as the doors were sealed as if they intend-ed to return later.On January 22, 1941, a section of Cha-co canyon wall known as Threateningrock fell to the ground and did some dam-age to a few of the rooms. Such a disasterevidently had been feared by the Indiansin ancient times as masonry had been in-stalled at the base of the rock either assupport or to prevent further erosion.Park rangers are on duty at Chaco toprotect the ruins and guide visitors.

By MR S. J. M. WARNER"~ / HE ancient ruins pictured in your/ October, 1941, issue of DesertMagazine is the Pueblo Bonito inChaco canyon in northeastern New Mex-ico.

Chaco canyon national monument isreached by leaving U. S. Highway 66 atThoreau and traveling north 65 milesover state highway 164. The motoristfrom the north may come in from Aztecand the Aztec national monument overstate highway 55, a distance of 40 miles,then over state h'ghway 56 a distance of.24 miles.Good tourist accommodations may befound at Gallup on the south and at Aztecand Farmington on the north.Eighteen major prehistoric ruins arefound in Chaco monument. These ruinsrepresent the zenith of pueblo civilizationin prehistoric times. No other archaeologi-cal area in the United States is said to ex-hibit a higher degree of development thanis shown by the cultural materials recov-ered here.Pueblo Bonito (translated "pretty vil-lage") is the largest of the ruins in Chacomonument. It covers more than three

acres, and restoration work has revealedapproximately 800 rooms and 32 kivas or

ceremonial chambers. It is believed tohave housed about 1200 people.Construction is believed to have beenstarted about 880 A. D. Tree-ring datingshows definitely that building was in pro-gress in 919. Major building operationsappear to have been in the 1060s withlesser activity 20 years later. The buildingperiod probably ended about 1130. Thesedeterminations were made during theexploration work done by the Hyde expe-dition, 1896-99, and the National Geo-graphic society, 1922-26.All the villages are of sandstone blocks.The larger stones were cleverly fitte'd to-

gether and the cracks chinked with smallerstones. No mud or mortar was used inmany of the walls. The masonry is regard-ed as the finest in prehistoric times in theSouthwest.Little is known as to the origin of theseIndians or why they left or where theywent. They were farmers, wove cottoncloth, made beautiful pottery and beadsand were a peaceful tribe. Chaco river,

1 lowing through the canyon is believed tohave supplied their water. Now it is mere-ly a dry arroyo except in rainy periods.Willow and aspen timbers used in thebuildings indicate there may have beenmuch moisture in the canyon then.These Indians used implements of

InVALLEYof the S UNC ome down from your s leet-frozen countryside to bastea n d b ro n ze i n t h e \ w a rm , ch e e rf u l g l o w o f a f r i e n d l yA rizona sun. M ere, you can relax and sun-laze to yourhearts co ntent, for this, is the L and\of M anana. Or, ifyou find rest iri\recreation, there's literally every outdoorsp o rt u n d e r t h e su n t o re vi ve \ yo u r\ d ro o p i n g sp i r i t s .E sca p e , n ow, f ro m d u l l , d ra b , d re a ry\ we a t h e r t o t h i sromantic^ colorfulValleysofthe Sun where winter is taboo.P hoenix and the surrounding towns \ offer \alll types/ ofmodern accommodationshotels, apartments) bungalows,dude^ranches l ind desert inns . \ \

inter Ih- Transt i^teJPhcenjV a l l e y of th e S u n C l u b

2 5 O 4 Chamber of Commerce B ldg.Please s o u l n o r f r e e i l d u c r a t r d l i t e r a lKameCity State _

Now Open inNE WLOCATIONSKISSKATESCLOTHINGAccessoriesDEGRIFT'QSKI and HIKE HUT I U717 W. 7th Street Los AngelesF R E E P A R K I NG IN B A S E M E N T



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L a n d m a r k oft h e O l d W e s tWho can identify this picture?

-**^K*2^g&S. .

. . . ; . -*~v- -%

A N N O U N C E M E N THere in the above picture is the lastresting place of rugged men who lived anddied during that period when gold andsilver were the main lures that broughthuman beings to the uncivilized desertregion.There were good menand bad in thosedays, the same as now, and some of bothkinds died with their boots on and wereburied here.Many desert travelers will recognizethis old cemeteryand others will wantto know where it was located, why it hasbeen abandoned, and perhaps some of thehistory of the town or camp that made agraveyard necessary in this location.For the most informative story of notover 500words Desert Magazine will paya cash award of $5.00. The manuscriptshould identify the place andgive some-thing of its history and its present status.Entries inthis contest must reach DesertMagazine office not later than December20, 1941. Thewinning story will be pub-lished in the February number of thismagazine. Address letters to Landmark

Contest, Desert Magazine, El Centra,California.

SECRETARY ICKES PUTSBA N ONBILLBOARDS

In a sweeping new regulation issuedduring October Secretary Ickes of the interior department prohibited the unau-thorized use of public lands for advertis-ing billboards. Exceptions will be madewithin rigid limitations to municipalitiesand certain other specified agencies. Per-mits must be secured, however, beforeany signs are erected.

DESERT JIM'S MINE40 miles across the desert from, whatis now Baker, California, Desert Jim

spent 20 years driving a tunnel 700feet through solid rock, following a tinyvein hoping that it would widen andbring the riches of which he dreamed.The crude home-made wheelbarrow,tiny dump cart and remaining tools havejust been moved to Knott 's Ghost TownVillage, twomiles from Buena Park onhighway number 39. An old-fashionedarasta has been built and visitors maysee a replica of this desert mine alongwith scores of other ghost town exhibits.No admission charge!Knott's Berry Place, famous the coun-try over for the chicken dinners andboysenberry pies which 40,000 peopleenjoy monthly, published the "Ghos tTown News" a 32 page illustrated mag-azine, mailed for ten cents, upon requestto Knott's Berry Place, Buena Park,California.

otherwordsby JOHN CLINTON

sue eel Do you re-member thefirst auto yourfo lks had?Maybe it wasa sedate oldRambler or aspunky Flan-ders, with brass radiator, carbidelights and a bulb-squeeze hornlike a duck with a sore throat.Those were the days of tallautos. On a clear day you couldsee Catalina from the driver'sseat. * * *Those we re thedays, too, whenyou bought "any oldoil." Sure,it left carbon inyour motor, butclearances inthose halcyon dayswere never critical, andneitherwas your be-goggled dad.

* * *But auto en-gines havec h a n g e d .Today the bug-aboo of high-compressionengines is thecarbon thatcooks out of unstable motor oiland actually changes the com-pression ratio of your motorwastes gas, power and raises thedickens generally.

* * *That's why you should ask forTriton Motor Oil. ForTr i ton,thanks to Union Oil Company'spatented Propane Solvent Proc-ess, forms very little carbon. Be-sides it's 100% pure paraffinbase the finest type of lubri-cant you can buywith money.* * *So if you have any desire tomake your present family caroutlast this war-born scarcity ofnew autos, then I suggest youput your bus on a diet of Triton.It's been largely responsible forthe spry performance of my fa-mous Hispano-Ply mouth, and soI'm telling you what I know.

* * *Get Triton fromthe Union Min-ute Men wher-ever you seethe sign of thebig orange andblue 76. Try tand just seefor yourself.

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Seven times w e were forced to swim narrow fingers oj the lake to avoid climbing jar up'canyon. Shoes, hat, and the writer are approaching shore. The pile oj clothes on the rock atthe lower right is the spot jrom which the rattlesnake struck a jew minutes later. The reptileivas undoubtedly beneath the rocks when this picture was taken.

fldventute onjjiCGtion -f/ill

According to Viljarmar Stefansson, the Arctic explorer, adventures arethe result of unpreparedness and incompetence. Hulbert Burroughs ad-mits frankly that the harrowing events related in this story of his adven-ture on the top of Fortification Hill are just what the Arctic explorer saidthe penalty for dumbness. But they make an interesting tale neverthe-less an d if y ou ha ve n ever suffered from heat prostration here is a tipthat will help you avoid that unpleasant experience.By HULBERT BURROUGHSPhotographs by the au thor .

/ / AD we been innocent tenderfeet"f~I unschooled in the ways of the des-ert, our adventure on FortificationHill might have been expected. But foryears we had known the great deserts ofthe Southwest.

We had tramped many a mile over thebarren hills of California's Salton sea re-gion. We knew Borrego desert well. Wehad packed to the Rainbow Bridge insouthern Utah; had completely circledand then climbed to the top of Navajo

mountain on the very edge of the leastknown area in the United States. We hadexplored the full length of the Lower Cali-fornia peninsula, than which there arefew more desolate regions on the NorthAmerican continent. In short, we held thedangerous conviction that we had mas-tered the desertthought we knew her sowell that we could ignore her hazards.In an airline, Fortification Hill is aboutthree miles from Boulder dama scantfew miles from where thousands of tour-ists come from all parts of the world togaze at man's great engineering feat. Yet itwas there on Fortification Hill withinplain sight of millions of acre feet of LakeMead's sparkling waters that Don Pierottiand I had our closest brush with the twindevils of the desertheat and thirst.The story of our experiencealthoughlaughable now is told with the thoughtthat others may learn from our folly.Late one June afternoon we were swim-ming in the refreshing waters of LakeMead at Hemenway beacha playgroundcreated by the national park service inBoulder dam recreational area. To the eastFortification Hill dominated the land-scape. The setting sun mantled the rugged

24 TH E D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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Boulder dam and Lake Mead with Fortification Hill dominating the horizon. Burroughsand Pierotti scaled the black mesa at the highest point at the right, and descended to thenorthwest beyond the lowest point oj the mesa visible at the lejt. B ureau oj Reclamationphotograph.

D E C E M B E R , 1 9 4 1 25


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black mesa with anorange-red glow mak-ing a fascinating picture.One of usI do not recall whichsuggested it would be an interesting sum-mit toexplore. From the top of the mesathere would be a superb view of the lakeand Boulder dam. The more we discussedthe possibility the more eager webecameto undertake the trip. Tomorrow wewould climb to the top.Early the next morning we drove acrossthe dam. Two miles tothe east onthe Ari-zona side a sign points to "Painted Des-ert." After five miles of winding gravelroad the trail ended abruptly inthe lakeasso many of the small roads of that areanow doengulfed by the rising waters ofthe tamed Colorado. Tocome to the endof a road like that leaves one with apecu-liar unfinished feeling.

We were in the very shadow of Fortifi-cation Hill. About us were low clay hillsrichly colored in many shades of red,brown, orange, andyellow.As we pulled off the road toparknotthat anyone would have cared topass be-yond usa bigmountain sheep and herhusky youngster bounded up the rockyhillside. It was the first time I hadeverseen one of these wary animalsoutsideof Indian pictographic drawingsand Iwas surprised. I had no idea there wereany within theboundaries of the Boulderdam wild life refuge.At six a. m. we swung into ourknap-sacks and left the car. We carried twocanteens of water, a can of tomato juice, asmall box of raisins, some dried beef, a

camera andfilms. The last two items arenot generally included in a well plannedlunch for hikers. But in the light of whathappened later when our water and toma-to juice were gone, a camera and films

were just about asedible asour dried beefand raisins. But more of that later.We paused for a moment to study thesteep cliff walls of the mesa above the longtalus slopes. We knew we'd have a stiffclimb and might even have difficulty find-ing a route tothe top.We followed sheep and wild burrotrails most of the way to the foot of thetalus slopes. The going was easy and wegained the foot of the cliffs without mucheffort. The daywa

194112 desert magazine 1941 december

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