195103 desert magazine 1951 march

8/14/2019 195103 Desert Magazine 1951 March

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D E S E R T C A L E N D A RMar. 1-31Javelina Hunting Season,Arizona.Mar. 4Round-Up Club tour to Vul-ture Mine, Wickenburg, Arizona.Mar. 4Don's Trek to Lost Dutch-man Mine, Superstition Mountains,Phoenix, Arizona.Mar. 5-11Arizona State AmateurGold Tournament, Arizona Coun-try Club, Phoenix, Arizona.Mar. 9-11International Desert Cav-alcade, Calexico, California.Mar. 10-11Hospital Day and Car-nival, Wickenburg, Arizona.Mar. 10-11Sierra Club's Trek toCalico Mountains, Mojave Desert,California.Mar. 11 Second Annual.AlmondBlossom Festival. Quartz Hill, Cali-fornia.Mar. 12-18National Golf Cham-pionship, Palm Springs, California.Mar. 13-14Kennel Club DogShow,County Fair Grounds, Tucson,Arizona.Mar. 16-18Winter Carnival. Ari-zona Snow Bowl, Flagstaff, Ari-zona.Mar. 17-18 Rodeo, Gila Bend,Arizona.Mar. 17-18Third Annual HorseShow, Southern Arizona School forBoys, Tucson, Arizona.Mar. 17-18Bandollero Tour to SanFelipe, Mexico, Yuma, Arizona.Mar. 17-24College of the Pacific's15th annual expedition to DeathValley, California.Mar. 17-25 Sierra Club Campingtrip toSouthern Arizona.Mar. 17-25 Sierra Club CampingTrip to San Felipe, Mexico.Mar. 18Round-up Club's Tour toRich Hill andghost towns, Wick-enburg, Arizona.Mar. 18Don's Trek to SanCarlosIndian Reservation, Phoenix, Ari-zona.Mar. 18-25Yaqui Indian EasterCeremonials, Pasqua Village, Tuc-son Arizona.Mar. 23-24Woman's Club HobbyShow. Community building Twen-

tynine Palms, California.Mar. 23-24 Easter Pageant, TheMaster Passes By, Box Canyon,Mecca, California.Mar. 25Yaqui Indian Pascua Rit-u a l , Tucson, Arizona.Mar. 25-28 Spring Corn Dance,Cochiti, San Felipe, Santa Do-mingo and other Indian Pueblos,Santa Fe. NewMexico.Mar. 26-Apr. 8 Tucson FestivalSociety's arts and crafts exhibits;excursions to historic sites; visitsto Indian reservations; desert rides,Tucson, Arizona.Mar. 30-Apr. 4Live Stock Show,Rodeo Grounds. Tucson, Arizona.Mar. 31Saddle Club's Horse Show.Wickenburg, Arizona.

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V o l u m e 14 M A R C H , 1951 N u m b e r 5C O V E R

C A L E N D A REXP LO RATIO NM I N I N GWILDLIFEFIELD TRIPP ERSO NALITYW A T E RH ISTO RYP H O T O G R A P H YPOETRYLETTERSFICTIONCLO SE-UP SW I L D F L O W E R SC O N T E S TN E W SQUIZM I N I N GLAP IDARYH O BBYC O M M E N TB O O K S

DESERT LILY, Photograph by Harold O. Weight,Pasadena, California. First prize winning photoin 1950cover contest.March events on the desert 3On theTrail to Picacho del Diablo

By LOUISE WERNER 4Where Slave Miners Toiled for SilverBy CHARLES L. KNAUS 9I Found the Watering Place of the Bighorn

By GEORGE M. ROY 13Gem Fields on the Mojave 16Mary's Store at Agua Caliente Oasis

By FREDERICK J. COLBERT 18Forecast ior Southwestern rivers and reservoirs 20Burro-Man of the Desert

By EDMUND C. JAEGER 22Pictures of the Month 25Desert Verbena, and other poems 26Comment by Desert's readers 27Hard Rock Shorty of Death Valley 28Among those whowrite for Desert 28Wildflower Forecast for March 29Prize announcement for photographers . . . 29From here and there on thedesert 31Test of your desert knowledge 38Current news of desert mining 39Amateur GemCutter, By LELANDE QUICK . . 40Gems and Minerals 41Just Between You and Me, By theEditor . . . 46Reviews of Southwestern literature 47

The Desert Magazine is published monthly by the Desert Press, Inc., Palm Desert,California. Re-entered as second class matter July 17, 194H at the post office at Palm Desert,California, under the Act of March 3, 1879. Title registered No. 358865 in U. S. Patent Office,and contents copyrighted 1950 by the Desert Press, Inc. Permission to reproduce contentsmust be secured from the editor in writing.RANDALL HENDERSON, Editor BESS STACY. Business ManagerMARTIN MORAN, Circulation Manager E. H. VAX NOSTRAND, Advertising ManagerLos Angeles Office (Advertising Only): 2635 Adelbert Ave., Phone NOrmandy 3-150!)Unsolicited manuscripts and photographs submitted cannot be returned or acknowledged

unless 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 RATESOne Year $3.50 Two Veals $6.00Canadian Subscriptions 25c Extra, Foreign 50c ExtraSubscriptions to Army Personnel Outside U. S. A. Must Be Mailed in Conformity With

P. O. D. Order No. 19687Address Correspondences to Desert Magazine, Palm Desert, California

F EBRUARY, 1951


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On the trail to the Peak of the Devil the 15 Sierra Club mountaineers who spentnearly a week in their attempted ascent of ol' Diablo. Photo by Roy Gorin.

O n t h e T r a i l t oP i c a c h o d e l D i a b l oBy LOUISE T. WERNERMap by Norton Allen

UR GOAL was El Picacho delDiablo in the San Pedro MartirRange, towering 10,163 feetabove sea level and the highest pointon the peninsula of Baja California.Not many people have climbed thisPeak of the Devilgiven its nameperhaps because it is so inaccessible,and its slopes so precipitous.Fifteen of us had ventured into theinterior of Lower California to makethe ascent of ol' Diablo from the west.Our approach was through a primitivewilderness area of magnificent pinea forest 40 miles long and 20 mileswide. Between this forest and Diablopeak is Canon del Diablo, a greatgorge 3000 feet deep, and this is the

barrier which makes the ascent of thepeak so difficult.The Sierra Club of California, LosAngeles chapter, had chosen this BajaCalifornia region for its Easter vaca-tion outing in 1950. On Sunday, April2, more than 100 members of the clubgathered on the beach at Ensenada,75 miles south of the Mexican border.On Monday the caravan moved southalong the one highway in Lower Cali-fornia, most of them bound for SantaMaria beach, which was to be basecamp for the week.At Telmo Junction, 85 miles southof Ensenada, those of us who hadchosen to spend our week making anassault on El Picacho del Diablo, left

"On ly if yo u are in go odenough condition to hike 20miles a day with a pack, canyou hope to make this trip."This was the advance warningsent out by Sierra Club leadersto members who wanted to par-ticipate in an assault on El Pi-cacho del Diablo, highest peakon the Lower California penin-sula. Fifteen rugged mountain-eers signed up for the tripandhere is the story of their experi-ence in Baja California 125 milessouth of the border.

the caravan and turned toward the easton a dirt road for the 31-mile drive toRancho San Jose where the road ends.It isn't much of a road, but thehospitable Mr. and Mrs. Salvador Mel-ing who own the San Jose ranch hadbeen advised of our coming, and hadput seven men at work on the trail tomake it passable for our touring cars.Roy Gorin was leader of our moun-tain-climbing group. Roy is a six-footer in his thirties, a veteran of many

rugged ascents. His first considera-tion was the security of his party, andhe had given each of us, long in ad-DESERT MAGAZINE


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El Picacho del Diablo from the west, looking across Cano n del Diablo. This10,163-foot summ it is the highest point on the Peninsula of Lower California,about 12 5 miles south of the border. Photo by Al Schmitz.

Ed Peterson was assistant leader.

the party were: Freda

Six were from Northern California:

Mrs . Meling welcomed us with fresh

Lower California from Texas in the1880's and settled on the westernslopes of the San Pedro Martir Moun-tains. The only transportation then wasby wagon train and they had to makethe roads as they came. Mr. Meling'sfamily came into the country in 1908from Norway. The ranch house nes-tles comfortably on the bank of thesprawling Rio San Telmo. There isno telephone. Kerosene lamps lightthe parlor.Mrs. Meling is a fine looking mid-dle-aged woman, obviously capable ofmeeting all the situations that must bemet during a lifetime spent a hundredmiles from a doc tor. She showed amotherly concern for our party, Wedid not meet M r. Meling. He was outguiding another party.Accommodations at the Rancho areas follows: rooms, $3 per day; meals,$5 per day; riding horses, $3 per day,a packer, $5 per day; pack animals,$2 per day. Ho t showers are avail-able.Ray Gorin checked our equipmentto make sure no one ventured into thatwilderness without the essential itemsthat would keep us safe and independ-ent for five days in a back-country

without grocery or drug stores or doc-tors. The dunnage was made readyto load on the mules.On Tuesday morning before themoon was gone, we were cuttingthrough the Meling pasture in an east-erly direction. Each carried a lunch,canteen of water, halizone tablets,sweater, hat and sunburn lotion. Mrs.Meling with characteristic solicitude,came along for a mile to show us aturn-off she was afraid we would miss.Ten miles later we passed the aban-doned Socorro placer mines. Thehorse trail climbed gradually overpleasant ridges covered with manzan-ita, buck brush and California coffeeberry. Birds seen in this Up per Son-Tan zone were the wren-tit, Calif-ornia jay, valley quail and raven.Senor Juan Soto, the only person wemet in this whole region after leavingthe Rancho San Jose, lives in a stonehut in a small meado w. He posedjauntily for picture s. His senora, hesaid, had gone to their ranchito threemiles up a steep trail to tend the cornand potato patch.The Oak pasture was to be ourfirst lunch spot. As we approach ed afork in the trail and were debating

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The waterhole at Vallecitos. Photo by Walter Donaghho.which way to go, a Mexican rode upand directed us. We had not sus-pected it, but Mrs. Meling had orderedhim to see that we didn't get lost!The Mexican turned out to be Pompa,the packer's helper. Our packer wasBill Barre, a handsome French va-quero, son-in-law of the Melings.

After lunch we entered the westernfringe of the forest and soon the four-leaved pinon was supplanted by theJeffrey pine, which from then on wasthe dom inant tree. Mo st of theseJeffreys are of moderate size but wemeasured one that was a good fivefeet in diameter.La Corona was our first overnightcamp . We had climbed graduallyin 25 miles from an altitude of 2200feet to 6600 feet. La Co rona is abeautiful circular meadow surroundedby tall pines. The stream was run-ning just enough that we could dipin a cup without stirring up thebottom. Here food was our firstthought. Some had brought cannedfoods like beans, corn, tuna and roast

beef. Some cooked spaghetti andsome dreamed up weird concoctionsout of dehydrated milk, minute rice,corned beef and bouillon cubes.Nearly all made tea, the mountaineer'sfavorite hot drink. Some had broughtneat aluminum kettles that nest in oneanother and some had brought billycans to cook in. Appetites were rav-enous. No one felt like spendingmuch time around the campfire thatevening. Durin g the night the poo r-wills whistled.Wednesday morning found us climb-

ing in a north easterly direction . Th ewhite fir, that harbinger of the cooleraltitudes, appeared. Through long iso-lation in this dry southern environ-

ment, it has developed new character-istics. The needles are notably thickerand more bluish in color than those ofits counterpart north of the border.Early that day we got our firstglimpse of El Picacho del Diablo. Wehoped to climb this peak. It seemed sofar away we wondered if we couldreach it in the allotted time. Weplanned to reach the rim of DiabloCanon that afternoon, shoulder ourpacks, drop down the 3000 feet intothe gorge and camp that night on thebottom.The temperature was delightful forclimbing. Water became scarcer aboveLa Corona. At Valleckos, a meadowwith a dry water course, Pompa haddug a water hole against a huge boulderand enough water had seeped in tofill all the canteens. We couldn't havegone very far beyond that point with-out that water hole. Eight miles tothe southeast of here, at Los Llanitos,Pompa dug another water hole. Watertook on even more importance be-cause from here on we would nothave the packers to locate it for us.We might not find water again untilwe reached the bottom of the gorge,and we weren't sure we would findany then. We knew that if we didn'tfind water in the gorge, we must giveup the idea of climbing the peak.The packs we shouldered at LosLlanitos weighed about 30 pounds andcontained sleeping bag, full canteens,food for two days, cooking utensil,matches, first aid, parka, sweater andpersonal necessities. The packers

shook their heads and said, "Why didwe bring pack animals in the firstplace?" Putting on a full pack in thelate afternoon, after having already

walked 17 miles that day, was justplain punishment.Jane Tucker, Jeane McSheehy andWalter Donaghho elected to stay atthe water holes of Los Llanitos. Th atnight they heard the screams of moun-tain lions. Twelve of us started forthe rim, an estimated five miles. Aftertoting the packs for about two miles,a nice little flat tempted us and wemade camp for the night. We scatteredto look for water, but found none.That made us all suddenly very thirsty.Roy took inventory and found wehad an average of two quarts each inour canteens. This had to do for din-ner that night, breakfast the next morn-ing, and the 3000-foot descent intothe gorge. We had better find waterin the gorge, we decided. Roy said,"If I catch anyone brushing his teeth,he'll get sent back to Horse Camp!"We crawled into our sleeping bagsand dreamed of Utopia where all the

streams ran clear, cool water. Nextmorning we found plenty of water ina gully a few hundred yards away, justbeyond where we had searched!We lost several hours Thursdaymorn ing, trying to find the rim. Th erewere no trails, so we carefully duckedthe route. A duck, in mountain lingo,is three or more graduated rocks placedone on the other to mark a route. Theyare usually placed so that from anygiven duck you can see a duck behindand a duck in front of you. Roy hadalso brought red and yellow ribbons

which he tied to branches of trees andbushes. And yet, when we decided wemust retrace a bit, we became tempo-rarily lost.Finally we found the elusive rim ofthe gorge of Canon Diablo. It wasas wild as our imaginations had pic-tured it. There, across the gorge, itssummit only a thousand feet higherthan the rim on which we stood, wasEl Picacho del Diablo. It would be acomparatively easy ascent if it didn'thave that gorge protecting it. Thereis a route to the right, around the head

of the gorge, but that involves severalpinnacles where ropes are necessaryfor safe climbing. Norman Clyde andRandall Henderson scaled the peak in1937, and avoided the gorge by mak-ing the ascent from San Felipe Valleyon the desert side.Lodgepole pines were abundant atthis elevation, as were the San PedroMartir cypress, found only in thesemountains. Ed Peterson measured anancient specimen of the latter. It was15 feet in girth, perhaps a record forthis species. A golden eagle soared

over the Canon Diablo. In the dis-tance, the San Felipe desert droppeddown to the blue waters of the Gulf ofCalifornia, and the mountains of theD E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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*;--:- S A N J O S E . ' . . - ..y.> ...

Mexican mainland had clouds abovethem.El Picacho del Diablo itself is nota difficult peak . Bu t to get to it, youhave to cross some 50 miles of primi-tive wilderness. By the time you getwithin striking distance, you feel it isa hard-to-reach peak.Jess Lang and Ed Peterson decidedto remain on the rim, and our partywas reduced to 10. We started downa steep tributary canon, hoping itwould take us all the way down with-out any drop-offs. The re was somevegetation in the gully, even tall pinetrees and a little grove of quakingaspens. Then it steepened a bit sothat rocks began to move under foot.We had to go more carefully to avoidaccidents from rock-falls. With tenpeople in the party, this was a slowand serious business. We were abouthalfway down the gorge when we re-alized that no one would make themountain that day. We stopped todiscuss the prospects. Five turned backunder the leadership of Frank Thias.Barbara Lilley, Sam Fink, AlSchmitz and I followed Roy in aslightly speedier dash for the moun-tain. We took some of the other party'swater, averaging well over two quartsapiece; also extra food and sweaters,realizing that we would be bivouacingsomewhere in the gorge that night.The rock work became a little moretricky, and the vegetation less. Sud-denly, over the edge of a dry fall, wespied a beautiful pool of water! From

then on there was plenty of water allthe way down to the bottom of thegorge. Had we known that from thestart, our minds would have beeneasier.Now we started up El Picacho.There is team work in strenuous moun-taineering . The re is a close knitting ofthe party. Th ere is a strong feeling ofone-for-all a nd all-for-one, th at 1 haveoften wished could spread over thewhole wo rld. It is one of the thingsthat makes mountaineering such asatisfying sport.The lower part of the mountain wascovered with manzanita. We workedtoward a ravine with pines in it, hop-ing to get out of the brush. After weleft the brush behind, the blocks ofgranite became larger and the goingsteeper. For a couple of pitches weused a nylon sling rope. We realizedthat we had started up from the gorgetoo soon. We should have continueddown the gorge to the red banks be-fore starting to climb. The route isjust a rock scramble.To complicate matters, the weatherbegan to worry us. The sky hadclouded over. A mountain top can bedangerous in a storm. If it should rain,the gorge might become a torrent andthe ravine up the other side would bea mountaineer's nightmare. Roy esti-mated that we were about 1500 feetbelow the summit, and that it wouldtake at least two hours to make thetop, provided the going didn't get anyworse.

Should we take the risk? We de-cided to turn back. From an arm chair,such a decision may be hard to under-stand, especially if you have never hadto make one like it. Individu als, whenthinking as a team, especially in anemergency, sometimes make decisionsthat afterwards are not as understand-able as when made. At that time, inthat place, under those circumstances,it seemed the thing to do.Dropping back into the gorge wasquick work but when we began toclimb up the gully again the strain ofthe long, strenuous day began to tell.We climbed about a thousand feet anddecided to bivouac. There was enoughdaylight left for one last look over thegulf and the mountains of Sonora be-yond.

We found plenty of wood in theimmediate vicinity to keep two firesgoing all night. It was com parativelywarm and windless and the sky cleared.Al Schmitz had a loaf of pumpernickeland a can of liver spread; Roy passedaround a handful of almonds and acan of sardines; Sam Fink contributedraisins from his pack, Barbara Lilleyhad chocolate and I had some figs anda package of jello. This cold supperwas cheered by lots of ho t tea. Levelspace was at a premium but we wereable to rest.It was a relief to reach the rim onFriday morning and begin droppingdown to High Camp and thence toHorse Camp. We had to leave thereimmediately because the mules had

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Mrs. Meling took time off to helpload the pack train. Photo byFreda Walbrecht.found no feed and were threatening toleave us cold. I suspect that after theysaw that we could carry our packs,they said to one another, "Let's beatit and let these gringos carry their ownstuff back. What do they think we are,anyway!"

Our route back was by way of LaGrulla, a lovely dark green, boulder-strewn meadow. This part of the pla-teau gets more moisture as evidencedby several streams that really flowed.

Senor Juan, 90, who has workedon the Meling ranch 50 years.Roy Gorin photo.We saw deer and a coyote. Bill Barre,the packer, complained that to go allthe way to the Oak pasture that daywas too hard on the mules! But themules got no sympathy and an houror so after dark we were unscramblingour rations at the Oak pasture in aneffort to get a meal by flashlight.We had left the forest behind, thatwonderful oasis in a desert land. AnAmerican lumber company has se-cured the rights to log out this forest.

Members of the Sierra Club whotrip were given the following list ofThis lis t was for the general group.w as u s ed by the back -packer s w hodel Diablo .ESSENTIAL ITEMSGood stout, well-broken-in, almost newhiking boots (no tennis shoes)Heavy pants or wool underwearPa rkaDark glassesCap or hatWool sweaterExtra socksKnife, pocket or huntingCompassFlashlight and extra batteries (no penlights)Small personal 1st aid kit, with tape andbanda idsWaterproof matches2 Quart reserve water canteen or 2 quartsof juice1 quart or more water canteen for dailyuseSalt tablets

took part in the 1950 Easter weeksuggested items for their outing.A somewhat more restricted listmade the assault on El PicachoKip or similar sunburn lotionMosquito lotionMosquito headnetSnake bite kit (1 for each car group)Sleeping bagKnapsack1 tent or equivalent for every four personsFood for five full daysUtensils and can openerSoapSome light cordOPTIONAL ITEMSSmall pliers for Cholla (1 for each cargroup)Small towelChange of underclothesSmall lightweight ground tarpLunch bag to wear on belt or cutside packPencil and paperKleenex and toilet paperCandleChore boy and dish rag

Barbara Lilley, Los Angeles At-torney, first woman to climb allthe 14,000-ft. peaks.They estimate it will take 50 years toget it all out. This forest grew hereduring a past when there was muchmore water than there now is. Naturalreproduction is at a low ebb, especiallyat the southern limit. According topresent indications, the forest maynever grow back.On our our way back to the ranchon Saturday we encountered our onlyrattlesnake, a fat, light brown beauty.He kept the sound effects going whilea dozen people photographed him. Henever attempted to strike. I think wewere so steeped in the friendly atmos-phere of his own domain, that he didn'tfear us. Nobody had the urge to bashhis head in.We merely scratched the surface ofthis fine potential vacation land. Ourswas a scouting of the possibilities andwe learned enough to know that wewant to go back some day soon, andin a leisurely fashion enjoy the superbscenery, explore the Canyon Diabloand climb El Picacho del Diablo. Vandals Apprehended . . .Two residents of Palm Springs, Cali-fornia, were recently apprehended inthe act of removing plants from theJoshua Tree National Monum ent. Theywere taken before the United Statescommissioner in Riverside and fined$100 each. Superintendent Frank R.Givens warns visitors against damag-ing any natural features in the Park.Soil, dead wood, rocks and Indian arti-facts are among the things on the taboolist. Desert Trail.

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Entrance to the shaft of the old Mina del Tiro as it appears today.Where Slave MinersToiled for SilverBy CHARLES L. KNAUS

Map by Norton Allen

Believed to be one of the old-est mine shafts on the NorthAmerican continent, the Minadel Tiro in New Mexico has longsince g iven up its silver treasure.But visitors still find an occas-sional relic of the days whenIndian slaves carried the ore tothe surface in buckets of raw-hide . This story w as w ritten afterthe author had made a personaltrek to the old workings.

MINES! Treasure of Mon-tezuma! Caverns filled withvirgin gold! Veins of pure silver!You have all read tales of such won-ders; dreamed of untold riches, lostmines hidden for centuries in the des-erts and mountains of the Southwest.The more romantic lost mines arethose which were supposed to havebeen worked by the Spanish Conquis-tadores prior to the Indian rebellionof 1680 which drove the Spaniardssouthward and out of what is nowNew Mexico and Arizona.It was many years before the Span-ish Conquistadores returned to these

regions and legend has it that duringthe interval, the Indians filled or cov-ered all of the Spanish mines and socompletely destroyed every trace thatthe returning Spanish conquerors couldnot discover the slightest sign of theold mines.Further, the Indians exacted a prom-ise that the Spaniards would not againengage in mining activities. So throughtwo and a half centuries, these mines

have taken on stature until today itwould seem that all the wealth of theuniverse must lie buried in the un-known and lost Spanish mines, never-more to be recovered.

One of these ancient mines is stillin existence, however, little known andusually passed over by the wanderingprospector. The Mina del Tiro, Mineof the Shaft, is situated in north cen-tral New Mexico, in the Cerrillos Hills20 miles southwesterly from the an-cient city of Santa Fe.The Mina del Tiro is believed to bethe oldest known underground minein the Southwest, north of Mexico.

Here is to be found the only concreteevidence of ancient Spanish mining insouthwestern United States. The mineprobably antedates any other knownmine in the region by at least a cen-M A R C H , 1 9 5 1


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Looking down into the pit of the ancient Chalchihuitl turquoise mine, abandonedso long ago that juniper trees now grow on the dum p.

tury and is believed to have beenworked by Indian neophytes under thedirection of Spanish priests prior to1680.The mine was worked for its silverand possibly for lead. The full extentof the old workings has never beendetermined but access was through aninclined shaft about 100 feet in depth.This shaft had landings, or platforms,cut from the solid rock at intervals of12 or 14 feet which were gained byclimbing notched logs. There are ex-tensive drifts leading from the shaft,many of them 300 feet and more inlength. Great chambers are foundfrom which the ore was mined.The lowest portions of the mine areslightly below the level of permanentwater and as late as 1870 the remainsof an old canoe were in evidence inthe mine. It is generally believed thatcanoes may have been used for trans-porting the rock and ore from theworking places to the foot of the shaftfrom which point the rock and orewas carried to the surface on the backsof Indians, rawhide buckets being usedfor containers or packsacks.

The ore recovered was a sulphide oflead and zinc carrying rather high

values in silver and, no doubt silverwas the principal metal sought.Many crude and curious relics havebeen found both in the mine and inthe dump and its vicinity; stone ham-mers and sledges, fragments of ancientIndian pottery, and other primitiveimplements.It is hard to visualize the magnitudeof this undertaking since by modernstand ards the mine is small. How ever,when we take into consideration thecrude manner of doing the work andthe complete lack of modern tools,the mine represents a tremendouslabor and the expenditure of untoldsweat and blood.The full history of the Mina delTiro is clouded in the mists of timeand only bits of information havecome to light here and there in theancient records of Mexico and Spain.It was not until 1879 that the districtwas rediscovered by American pros-pectors. The years between 1680 and1879 are almost blank pages.

Fo r a few years following 1879 . theCerrillos district boomed greatly andseveral mines were opened that wereto operate for many years. Some havebeen worked within the past decade.

As in the old Spanish mine, the mod-ern mining has been for the recoveryof lead and silver with zinc playing anever more important role as modernmethods are developed for its recovery.The ore deposits of the district aregenerally small, however, and miningoperations have quite often met withindifferent success. Today there isvery little activity in the district andnone in the immediate vicinity of theMina del Tiro.The Cerrillos Hills, in which theMina del Tiro is situated, cover onlya few square miles in area. They co n-sist of a dozen peaks separated byshallow canyons and gently slopingvalleys. The mass of the hills consistsof a vast upthrust of igneous rockwhich in past ages, while in the mol-ten state, was pushed upward intothe overlying sandstones and shales.These sedimentary rocks have beeneroded by eons of rain, frost, andwind, and the hard igneous core hasbeen softened and rounded into itspresent outline. It is an arid, hungry

land with no surface water except forshort periods of a few hours followingone of the torrential downpours towhich the region is subject during July10 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


11/48

M i n a delTiroLog00.0 Junction with U. S. Highway85 , 15 miles southwest fromSanta Fe01.2 Road fork. Keep left.01.3 Wood en bridge across smallstream. Site of old Bonanza.03.1 Road forks three ways. Keepto middle fork. Right hand forkleads to small mine.03.9 Road fork. Keep left.05.7 Site of old Carbonateville.06.4 Road fork. Keep left.06.9 Road fork. Keep left. Road toright leads to foot of MountChalchihuitl in about one-fourthmile. Old brick house is atright.07.0 Cash Entry mine on left. Care-taker's cabin to right.07.2 Road reaches bottom of mainarroyo.07.9 Mouth of arroyo in which Minadel Tiro is located. Leave carhere and walk up arroyo toright as described in story.

and August, or after one of the occa-sional winter snowstorms. It is a landof scattered vegetation, sand, finelycrushed granite, and barren rocks; ahard, bitter land.I shall never forget my first visit tothe Cerrillos Hills and the Mina delTiro. I left Santa Fe early in themorning and drove out the highwaytoward Albuquerque 15 miles. HereI turned left on a narrow dirt roadthat ran in a southerly direction wind-ing between two rounded hills. Atopthe larger hill to the right was a hugecross, no doubt placed there by thepenitentes during the trials of someGood Friday dawn. The road easedacross a gentle grass covered valley.A small living stream flows down thisvalley.

At the point where the road crossesthis valley there is evidence of veryold buildings, shapeless heaps of stoneand adobe. Here during the boomdays of the 'seventies was a thrivingmining town of several hundred peopleBonanza .Climbing the easy slope on the farside of the valley the way lies alongthe eastern side of the Cerrillos Hillsnear the foot of the steep slopes thatlead to the summit of the hills. Thereare several forks in the road but I hadbeen warned to remain on the roadthat essentially parallels the foot ofthe hills. At first the land showed asparse growth of short brown grassgreen only for a short time follow-ing the short rainy season of latesummer.A s the road climbed gradually, itwound its way through short scrubby

pifion, or nut pines, and cedars. Pass-ing close against the eastern slope ofa high hill the trail became almost ashelf cut from the mountain. Beyond

CARBONATEVILLE (RUINS)

"^CASH E N TR Y MIN ERoad Eniers Moin Arroyo

this mountain it dropped into a shal-low canyon and passed the ruins ofmany stone buildingsall that re-mained of Carbonateville, once a boommining camp. Here, to the old Inn,had come General LewWallace, Gov-ernor of New Mexico, seeking restand solitude. Here the General hadperformed some of the work on hisimmortal Ben Hur.On down the valley I drove andover a small rounded knoll to a twostory brick house of the style of thegay nineties, abandoned now to thepack rats and other denizens of thehills. Nearby was an abandoned mine,the Cash Entry, once the largest pro-ducer of lead-zinc ores in the Cerrillosdistrict. Passing over the hill withthe mine on my left I followed the oldtrail and was soon driving along thebottom of a sandy arroyo. I followed

this wash for about a mile from theCash Entry mine until 1 came to themouth of a small arroyo coming infrom my right, the third such arroyosince I had first entered the bottom ofthe main wash.Here I left my car and hiked up thesmall arroyo to the right. In about600 feet I came within sight of anold and very small wooden head-frame atop a mine shaft. This was themarker that I sought. Searching upthe westerly slope a few yards, Ifound an ancient dump and the open-ing of a very oldmine shaftthe Minadel Tiro.Sitting on the old dump beneath theshade of a small pifion tree. I lookedacross the shallow valley to the sparsepifion and cedar that clothed its gen-tle slopes, and dreamed of those longago days of the Spanish Conquista-

M A R C H , 195 1 11


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77IP Cerrillos Hills in the backgroun d. The old camp of Bonanza wassituated in the valley in the lejt center of the picture.dores when lowly Indian slaves la-bored here to recover a few insignifi-cant bits of silver to enrich the coffersof the far away Spanish crown.

Brown-skinned men, naked exceptfor breech cloth, crawled, sweatingand groaning, from the hole that leddown into blackness. Great rawhidebuckets filled with jagged hunks of orerested on their bruised backs. So bentbeneath the great weight were theythat it was as if they bore all the caresof the world as a burden that wouldpersist until the end of time. Ha wk -faced, sardonic Spanish soldiers stoodguard, ready to mete terrible punish-ment upon the slightest hint of falter-ing or hesitation of an Indian beast ofburden.

Far beneath the surface in the eter-nal blackness, relieved only by thesmoky light of burning fagots andcrude lamps, other slaves labored.Slowly, small bit by small bit, thehard rock and ore was worn awaywith the crude stone and iron imple-ments. Sweating men loaded the rockinto skin canoes and pushed it to thefoot of the shaft for piling into pack-sacks. Smoke, heat, the occasionalflame of a torch, the toiling Indians.

Here was indeed a hell! Men gladlydied to escape its undeserved punish-ment.1 shook myself to escape the spellof the dream; a dream that would havebeen reality had 1 sat in this spot onlya few hundred years ago. But nowonly the yawning pit of the old shaftremains to mark the oldest knownlode mine in the Spanish southwest,north of the Mexican border. Thereis little of value left except sentiment

Research SourcesCharles L. Knaus, a mining engi-neer, secured the material for thisaccompanying story from the follow-ing sources:"New Mexico Mines and Minerals,"By F. A. Jones. Published by Stateof New Mexico in 1904."The Ore Deposits of New Mexico,"Professional Paper 68 of the UnitedStates Geological Survey. Publishedin 1910.Information secured by personal con-versation with Professor W. W.Long, New Mexico school of Mines,Socorro, New Mexico, and W. C.Smith, Consulting Mining Engi-neer, Silver City, New Mexico.Also from personal investigation ofthe area. '

and the interest that attaches to theworks of the old ones.The rockhound and the antiquarianmight find some ancient relic here,and only about a mile to the north isthe ancient mine of Chalchihuitl, avast open pit where turquoise, thebeautiful skystone, was mined by In-dians for untold years before theSpanish Conquistadores arrived. Herethe diligent searcher may still findturquoise.A word of warning. The CerrillosHills are all privately owned and therockhound desiring to search in thearea should seek permission from theowners. There is usually a caretakerto be found in the vicinity of theCash Entry mine. Also, Cerrillos oresoxidize rapidly and in so doing burnthe oxygen from the air of the oldmines. Do not enter such mines unlessyou are properly equipped and knowhow to detect and avoid dangerousgases.You will probably never becomewealthy seeking the lost treasure ofMontezuma at the Mina del Tiro, orelsewhere, but you will gain a richmeasure of life in the search, and,Ouien sahe, you might find Monte-zuma's treasure on some windswept hill.

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


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The Patriarch and a younger ram on the skyline above the waterhole where GeorgeRoy had his camera.

Ruthless hunting nearly drove the Rocky Mountain Bighorn fromtheir western range. But laws now protect them, and they are slowlycoming back. George Roy's experience in photographing these SantaRosa sheep took place at a waterhole within 10 miles of the DesertM agazine's pueb lo in Palm Desert.

FIRST DISCOVERED this l i t t leband of seven Rocky MountainBighorns during the latter part oflast May. I was in Dead Indian Can-yon in California's Santa Rosa Moun-tains. From somewhere up aheadcame a sound like that of a bawlingcalf.Since it was not likely there wouldbe range stock in this precipitous can-yon, I proceeded cautiously toward alittle palm oasis just ahead . Th en,suddenly, I saw the sheep.A large ewe scrambled up a steepledge and stopped, looking down theslope from whence she had come.There was a plaintive bleat from be-lowand then I saw a very smalllamb. It could have been only a few

Story and photographsBy GEORGE M. ROYdays old. It looked up at its mother,let out another scared bleat, andscrambled gingerly and somewhat des-perately up to the waiting ewe.She immediately climbed again andwaited; and again the little fellowlooked up at her, voiced his protest,and with unsteady legs climbed thegrade. Thus ledge by ledge, a fewfeet at a time, the old ewe led hernew-born son up the steep canyonwall.While I watched this little mountain-side drama, a loosened rock camebounding toward me from directlyabove where I was standing. My gazeshifted, I saw another fine animala half-grown ewestaring down atme from a little rocky promontory

along the trail. So close was it that Icould have hit it with a stone. Thisgraceful animal would leisurely strollalong the ridge a few hundred feet ata time; then, coming to some littlepromontory or flat boulder, would as-sume a stance like a carved statue,looking down at me a minute or twobefore proceeding further.About this time I chanced to glanceupward. High up on the skyline, atopthe ultimate pinnacle above the oasis,stood a magnificent ram. It was aquarter mile away, frozen statuesquely,its heavy recurved horns making aninverted pyramid of its head.This was my first experience withBighorns. For a long timeperhaps15 or 20 minutes I watched the

M A R C H , 1 9 5 1 13

I Fo u n d the Watering Place o fthe Bighorn


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climbing animals, and in all that timeI doubt if that ram so much as blinkedan eye! He remained as unmoving asthe huge boulder on which he stood.The sheep finally climbed beyondmy range of vision, stopping fre-quently to look back, obviously curi-ous but apparently quite unconcernedover my presence in the canyon. Iturned back down canyon, regrettingthat I had no camera with me thatmorning. Then I saw three moresheep watching me from the southrim of the canyon.Several times later 1 returned toDead Indian Canyon loaded down withphotographic equipment, but I wasnot again able to get close enough tothe Bighorns for more than a few longshots with a 12-inch lens. I finallygave it up and did not revisit theirhabitat for several weeks.It was mid-Aug ust when 1 againmade close contact with them. Bythen they were more or less perman-ently located on the high rocky benchthat extends from Grapevine Canyonto Carrizo Canyon. All the localwaterholes had dried up at that timeexcept a small uncertain spring inCarrizo which they were using.This time I was determined to staywith them until I had achieved myobjective. During the next few daysI had one of the most fascinating ex-periences of my life studying that littlefamily of Bighorn Sheep on the ruggedslope of that desert mountainside.The wild creatures of the desert are

imbued with a strong sense of friend-liness but the accumulated experiencesof heredity have taught them to regardwith suspicion man's unheralded pres-ence among them.Mountain sheep are no differentthan other wild animals. They arepossessed with an insatiable curiosity.This little band had never known theexperience of being hunted by gunnersso they had no acquired fear of me.Only their inherent sense of cautionkept them inaccessible for the first dayor two. They studied me critically

from the rocky ramparts. WheneverI had to cross a cleared area, in stalk-ing them, I chose such a course as toappear to be going away from them.I didn't fool them any but they musthave liked my attitude. They toler-ated my presence without visible alarmfor a day or two; then curiosity gotthe better of them and they camedown for a closer inspection. We be-came acquainted.By the third day, they were grazingalert but unafraidwithin full sightof me at distances under a hundredyards. One half-grown ewe evenstretched out comfortably upon a greatflattened boulder for a nap, not morethan a hund red feet away. E peri-

mentally, I began a slew approachtoward her retreat and not until I wasalmost under her did she raise herhead to regard me rather reproachfullywith soft amber eyes. When I turnedand withdrew, unhurriedly, she re-sumed her repose.Rocky Mountain Bighorns formerlywere numerous. In the early days,bands of 200 or more were not un-

common; and 50 or mere were therule. They were widely distributed.Known to science by the rather im-posing designation of Ovix cervina cer-vina, Desmarest, they were to be foundin numbers from Arizona and Colo-rado to Alberta and British Columbia,and on up to Alaska. They wereslaughtered in great numbers by bothIndians and Anglos for their meat; andwhite hunters eagerly sought the oldrams for their magnificent horns thatcurve upward, backward and down-ward, forming almost a complete circlefrom the side view. So ruthlessly werethey gunned throughout their exten-sive range that today they are seldomencountered. Only occasional sports-men and local ranchers see them. Inmany places where they were oncenumerous they are now practicallyextinct.A number of isolated geographicallocations in time gave rise to varia-tions from type and several of thesehave been classified as definite sub-so?cies. The Bighorn Sleep of theColorado Desert represent one ofthese geographical races which ap-parently came about in response toenvironment. Known as Ovis nelsoni,Merriam. by most authorities, theyavc characterized by a much lightercolor than the type species, being al-most white. They are also consider-ably sma ller in size. AM adult ramof the desert type will not measureover 50 inches in length nor standrtr-re than 33 inches at the shoulders,wheeas the northern Bighorn of theRockies will sometimes measure fivefeet or more in length pnd mav standr"->re than four feet at the shoulders.The l^cai species h;>s developed an-nnrentiy in rcsoonse to thp d rv ;


15/48

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16/48

water. They represented a somewhatolder group for there were two nearlymature rams in the band. They tripledthe population at Carrizo. The twobands readily mixed as though theywere old acquaintances but they ap-peared to graze separately.It is a characteristic of Bighornsthat the rams who have not yetreached maturity keep apart from therest of the band. Not until they areold enough to acquire the mating in-stinct do they run with the rest of thesheep. Then they may become fierceand quarrelsome. In fighting over anewe, they ram each other fiercely andmay knock each other unconsciousfrom the impact of their collisions.Mating commences early in Sep-tember but they do not come out ofrut until December. My friends andthe neighboring band started pairingoff late in August and were soonscattered all over the mountain, inpairs, seeking the higher ledges andseclusion.While the lamb had enjoyed everypriority and attention during the sum-mer, at the commencement of thenew mating season he was left strictlyto his own devices, accompanying thehalf-grown sisters. Mating does notattract the sheep until the fourth year.The natural enemies of the Big-horn are lions, coyotes and similarpredators. With the recent reductionof lions in the Santa Rosas as the re-sult of government hunting and trap-ping, it has become possible for thesheep to hold their own. They arebeginning to appear again in smallbands on both sides of the CoachellaValley and in the lower desert ranges.While they are not yet numerous, itis to be hoped that the present strictgame laws and continued hunting ofpredators will enable them to repopu-late, in time, the a>"e"s where they hadbecome almost extinct. They areamong our most interesting desertcharacters .

Since northern Mojave Desert is anarea rich in minerals for the gem col-lector and lapidary, the Desert Maga-zine this month presents a field' tripmap showing 19 of the locations where50-odd different species of collectingrock may be found.This map was prepared originallyby D. F. MacLachlan, publicity chair-man, as a guide for the hundreds ofvisitors who were present at the stateconvention of the California Federa-tion of Mineralogical Societies at In-dian Wells last June 17-19, and wasreproduced by Norton Allen of theDesert Magazine staff through thecourtesy of the Searles Lake Gem andMineral Society, the Mojave Minera-logical Society and the N.O.T.S. Rock-

hounds, hosts at the state convention,and Mr. MacLachlan.The bold lines shown in the mapare paved roads. The lighter lines aregravel roads, some of them rough andnot always passable. Motorists goinginto the areas will know the limitationsof the vehicles they are using, and cangauge their travels accordingly. Mem-bers of the Trona, Mojave and ChinaLake mineralogical groups generallycan give more detailed information asto the exact spots where material willbe found.There are good campsites in prac-tically all of the areas listed, and amplewood at most of them. Field trippers,however, should carry an ample sup-ply of water for dry camp if necessary.

PAIUTESFOR 40.000,09" ACRESAt a hearing r>f the Indian ClaimsCommission in .'""ua-'y, 50 membersof the Paiute t-ibe in northwesternNevada asked 'hat they be reimbursedfor 40,000,000 acres of land whichthey assert was t?.ken from them il-legally by Americans between 1860and 1900.The lands which they asserted werestolen from them include the presentsites of Reno, Carson City and Win-nemucca. Attorney for the Indians as-serted also that they were entitled toshare in the billion dollars taken fromthe Comstock lode.One of the spokesmen for the tribes-men was Ocho Winnemucca, grandsonof the famed chief of that name.

KEY TO MINERAL AND GEM MAP OFNORTHERN MOJAVE DESERT

1. Smoky quar tz crys ta ls and p lates2. Amazoni te and beryl (aquamar ine)3. Obsidian, chrystobalite, and fayalite4. Quar tz (deser t d iamonds) and sanadine5. Jasper6 . Jasper and ag ate7. Jasper, agate, chalcedony, petrif ied wood (palm and fig)- , precious

opal, chalcedony casts of calcite, and calcite8. Cinco (5 mile s off ma p on Hig hw ay 6) Ca rls ba d tw ins of fe ldsparand a r agon i te9. Travertine (Death Val ley Onyx)

10. Ophicalcite (altered serpentine)11. Halite, hanksite, burkite, gay-lussite, pirssonite, t incal, trona andsulphohal i te12. Agate , chalcedony, jasper , precious opal , nodules and geodes13. Rand District: gold, s ilver and tungsten ores and minerals , schee-lite "spuds" and rhodonite14. Smoky and rose quartz, odd forms of quartz crystals , tourmaline

in quartz, gem clear scheelite crystals , epidote and epidote psue-domorph after garnet15. Kram er Hills (35 mile s off ma p on Hig hw ay 395) ag at e, ja spe r an dpetrified wood16. Calico Mountains (60 miles off map on Highway 466) ghost townsof Calico and Borate, petrified palm root and wood, travertine,colemanite, howelite, gypsum, s trontianite, and celestite.17. Boron (30 miles o::f m ap on H igh wa y 466) cole ma nite, ulexite an dother borate minerals18. Galena, argentite, crysocolla, malachite, azurite, quartz and vari-ous lead, zinc, copper and silver minerals19. Galena, pyrite, sphalerite, l innerite, calcite, caledonite, scheelite,

plumbojarosite, sulphur, f luorite, cerrusite, anglesite, brochantiteand possibly some of the rarer lead, zinc and copper minerals .



17/48

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MARCH , 195 1TO SAN BERNARDINO

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18/48

Health-seekers come to Ma ry's for food and reading Ma ry Smith, pioneer merchan t of Agua Caliente oasis.

Mary ' s S tore a tA gu a C a lien te O a s is

By FREDERICK J. COLBERTMap by the authorPhotographs by Lloyds of Potrero

7HE FIR ST time 1 s topped infront of Mary's store, BrighamYoung's famous words, "Thisis the place," suddenly popped intomy mind. While she was waiting onme, I remarked, "Mary, you have agold mine here. When they build thenew surfaced highway through, you'llbe sitting pretty." In her quick butserious manner she replied, "But I 'mnot a gold digger."

Smacking of the outposts of 1849this one woman town is located in anisolated California desert region. Manyprospectors have trekked over thatarid country. Thomas Pegleg Smith'slost gold mine may not be far fromMary Smith's place. The Concordcoaches of the Butterfield stage linerumbled along the very route thatpasses the store. That was in 1858.Many years before that this same routewas used by those hardy souls who

headed further west from old FortYuma in search of high adventureand that illusive stuff, gold. Longbefore any white man knew the routeit was a well charted Spanish trail.It is near Agua Caliente Hot Springs,between Vallecito stage stationnowauthentically restoredand Carrizo.For thousands of years men havesought health and relaxation at nature'shot springs. Agua Caliente has servedaborigines, Spanish explorers, Ameri-can pioneers and soldiers, desperadosand prospectors. Now folk who haveheard the call of the desert come to thisdesert retreat by motor car from farand near.

Agua Caliente, according to RobertCrawford, deputy sheriff and custo-dian, has an average of 100 campersall the time. Last Easter season therewere 150.By recent action of the San Diego

Like hundreds of others. MarySmith came to the little oasis ofAgua Caliente in San Diegocounty, California, for her health.But while living costs at AguaCaliente are not high, one doeshave to eatand Mary solvedthat problem by opening a 6x6foot store to serve the otherhealth-seekers who c a m p by thehealing waters of this remotedesert hot spring. Here is thestory of an unusual businessventure.

county board of supervisors effectiveFebruary 1, 195 1, a charge of $3.00a week is made for each trailer or autocamp space at Agua Caliente. How-ever, there is no charge to anyone thefirst two weeks. Only those who arethere for health reasons will be givenpermits to remain longer than twoweeks.Many stay as long as six months.Those afflicted with arthritis outnum-ber all othe r sojourners. Tho se withasthma and sinus ailments also comehere. Some claim almost miraculousimprovement in their health. Doctorswho are ill or overworked find it afavorable spot for their own troubles.

There is no such thing as monotonyor boredom here. Horseshoes are afavorite pastime for some. Many areout in the hills prosp ecting . Sun-b ath-ing as well as hot mineral water bathsbrings back jaded nerves and restores18 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


19/48

Mary Smith's doll size store and the trailer in which she lives. The 6x6 footstore not only sells feed, but also is a branch of the San Diego county library.

M A R C H , 1 9 5 1 19


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health. For hikers, there is abundantspace and plenty of pure air to breathe.Here one may live close to nature.The San Diego County Planningcommission, under the direction of Dr.Wedgewood, has arranged for addi-tional improvements. The water sup-ply, both cool and hot seems to beunlimited. Dr. Wedgewood askedMary if she would open a cafe, andenlarge her gas service operations soas to take care of those who wouldcome in by airplane. The new land-ing field will be on a flat stretch ofdesert directly across the highway fromMary's s tore.

The plans call for the building ofa museum at Vallecito stage station.Here will be displayed relics of theold Butterfield stage line, Indian andfrontier days. The supervisors of Im-perial and San Diego counties expectto improve and make easily passablethe road leading on through from Agua

Caliente Hot Springs to Highway 80near Plaster City.Julian is the nearest town, 36 miles.Upon leaving the pavem;nt on high-way 78 at the Butterfield stage linemonument, there are 24 miles of goodgraded desert road. Plaster City is42 miles to the east. Mary was rightwhen she said, "You couldn't driveto Plaster City over the old stage roadif you wanted to." Only with a jeepor power wagon should one venturemore than a dozen miles on east ofAgua Caliente Hot Springs.

Rockhounds know this area as afertile field for their hobby. Mary isacquiring an interesting collection ofrare rocks and gem stones, as hervisitors often leave specimens. Indianarrowheads and other relics may stillbe found within a half mile of Mary's.In the Fish Creek and Split Mountaincountry are found ancient fossils andpetrified woods. Many sea shells, in-

For the information of irrigationfarmers and domestic water users inthe desert Southwest the following isa brief summary of the U. S. WeatherBureau's forecast of the runoff to beexpected in the various watersheds,based on precipitation and snowfallduring the period from September toDecember :CO LO RA D O RIV ER BA S INColorado River above GlenwoodSprings: Above normal runoff is ex-pected if precipitation during the re-mainder of the season is near normal.

Green River Basin: Precipitationover the upper Green, Yampa andWhite rivers was above normal athigher elevations and slightly belownorma l at the lower elevations. Out-look for the upper Green is good, forthe Utah tributaries below normal.San Juan River Basin: Below nor-mal precipitation has been the rule

and unless record rain and snowfalltakes place during the late winter andearly spring the runoff will be muchbelow normal.Little Colorado and Gila River Ba-sins: Drouth conditions have prevailed,the precipitation being only 30 per-cent of normal. If normal precipita-tion prevails during the late winterand early spring, the runoff may buildup to 30 to 50 percent of normal. Ifthe drouth continues there may be arecord low runoff.G REA T BA S IN

Great Salt Lake Basin: Precipita-tion from September to Decemberwas above normal. With near normal

precipitation in the months ahead theseason's runoff may be 120 to 140percent of normal.Sevier and Beaver River Basins:Precipitation the last four months hasbeen below norma l. If norm al rainand snowfall prevails during the re-mainder of the season the total runoffwill be 60 to 80 percent of normal.Humboldt River Basin: Heavy pre-cipitation the last two months of 1950promise a high runoff. Good rain andsnowfall during the remainder of theseason could result in a total runoff300 percent of normal.Truckee, Carson, Walker and OwensRiver Basins: Accumulat3d total pre-cipitation at the end of December wellabove normal. Runoff may be from150 to 200 percent of normal.Mojave River Basin: For the fallseason precipitation was enly 30 to 40percent of normal. Normal precipita-tion during the remainder of the sea-son may bring the total runoff to 50percent of normal.

RIO G RA N D E BA S INRio Grande Basin: Inflow into Ele-phant Butte dam is expected to be 40percent of normal, unless record pre-cipitation takes place during remainderof season.Pecos River Basin: Precipitationmuch below normal. Forecast is forabout 50 percent of normal runoff un-less there is record precipitation duringremainder of the season.The U. S. Weather Bureau will is-sue another report on April 1. basedon late winter precipitation and snow-pack data.

eluding, huge oysters are still uncov-ered near by. Don Frier, prospector,gave Mary a nugget of free gold hefound. Don com es in weekly for sup-plies, as do many other prospectors,still filled with that uncontrollable urgeto search for the yellow stuff. Someare still looking for Hank's lost goldmine over in Fish Creek region. Sofar, they have brought in only goodagate.Mary Smith was born near Ogden,Utah, June 1, 1891. After losing herfather she and her mother lived withher grandparents on a small ranchwest of Ogden. It was there she ac-quired her love of the wide openspaces. Animals on the ranch wereher playmates. From her grandfather,Robert Griffin, a civil war veteran,she probably inherited some of herpioneering spirit. He was a railroadcontractor, and built many of the de-pots for the Southern Pacific railroadfrom Kansas City across the west andnorth into Canada. Those were ruggeddays.

The greater part of her life has beenspent in restaurant and cafe work.Her husband died in 1921. She hasno living children, no near relatives.After living in Brawley and Westmore-land where she owned restaurants, shemoved to Julian in 1934, where shestill owns a modest little house sur-rounded by trees and flowers.Two years ago last Christmas shesuffered a heart attac k. The d octor

told her to get out of the high moun-tain country. She followed his advice,and went down into the desert. Shehad her old 1929 Ford sedan madeinto a truck. A lease was obtainedfrom the county upon her present site,and in June, 1949, she opened up forbusiness.Part of the summer she slept in asleeping bag on the floor of her oldconverted car. She says, "The floorwas made of hardwood, and they sureput the hard side up." A trailer wasacquired, in which she now lives along

side her doll-house store. The storeis 6x6 feet.Mary says she is especially proudof her new library, a branch of theSan Diego county library. It is unique,being one hundred percent non-fiction.Her desert folk want factual and sci-entific reading, chiefly on the desertand its many and varied characteristics.Cats are her hobby. She had 12 afew weeks back, probably more bynow. One morning a camper came inall excited and wide-eyed. He hadbeen awakened in the night by the

largest wildcat he had ever seen. Itwas prowling about his camp in themoonlight. Mary kept a poker face.20 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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Oasis of Agua Caliente where both hot and cold water bubble from the earth. Themesquite trees provide the only shelter available here. Health seekers bring theirtrailers, or their own camping facilities.

She had just spent an hour pullingcactus spines out of her half grownyellow tomcat. She did not disillusionthe fellow but she knew that the kindof cactus kitty had been in grew allaround his campsite. Her cats arekept inside a large chicken-wire en-closure, not only to safeguard them,but also to prevent them from huntingbirds and quail. She never did findhow that yellow cat got out.Coyotes come down around herstore and trailer nearly every night.There is a wildlife watering tank backagainst the hills, kept in good condi-tion by San Diego county. An abund-ance of free water is available. NearbyBurro Springs water is cool and good.The county put up a 500-gallon tankand piped water down to the store.At times she has seen as many as 250jackrabbits coming for a drink atsundown.One time when stopping at Mary'splace for cold drinks and gasolinethere were half dozen old-timers settin'

around in the shade of the patio. Shesaid, "They are membersof the des-ert spit and whittle club. Their talltales are all winners. I never need to

buy fertilizer for my plants and trees."Mary has a rare and honest person-ality. She has a ready answer for allquestions. She knows her desert, sheknows the world. Whether her guestor customer be an old timer, a hard-ened desert rat or a Professor fromBerkeley, Mary is always at ease, andmakes everyone feel at home.The entire area around there, thevery atmosphere is charged with ro-mance of vanished days. To the south-east are the rugged Coyote mountains.To the north the Vallecitos, gaunt anddesolate, yet colorful and intriguing,their lost mines still cast a spell overthose born with gold fever in theirveins. The bad lands, over east, havetaken many a life during those days ahundred and more years back. Againstthe southern sky stand the TierraBlancas, throwing long deep shadowsin late afternoon.Mescal grows in wild profusionalong the road. It's huge golden blos-soms in spring are something out of

this world. Ocotillo with its flamingred spikes topping each tall green-leafed cane covers vast areas. Cactiand mesquite are found in abundance.

Smoke trees follow the sandy washes.When rain comes desert flowers bloom.Seldom will one miss seeing some dis-play of blossoms.A career woman? Sure. Some,might ask, "How can a woman standit out there alone?" Alone? One isnever alone on the desert. Each morn-ing the big and lazy jackrabbits lei-surely gallop away from their breakfastupon the low green substance of theprickley pear. The chipmunks scam-per across the sand, talking to thosewho have ears to understand. Thedesert quail run here and there insearch of their daily subsistance. Theowls soar in search of small rodents.The road runner always seems in sucha hurry. The ways of the desert areslow eternal. No, one is never aloneon the desert.It is doubtful if in all the greatsouthwest, there is an oasis so smalland yet so welcome to desert folkand to desert travelers, as is Mary's'49er town. The greatest of all treas-

ures consist of health and contentment.To thousands the deserts have giventhese priceless riches. After all, goldis where you find it.MARCH , 1 95 21


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Frank Coffey was one of thelast of the one-blanket prospect-ors of the desert country. Henever made a rich strikeanddid not seem to care mu ch. Hisgreatest pleasure was in tellingtalestales that went on and onwithout end. Edmund C. Jaegerknew Frank well, and out of thatacquaintance has written thisstory about a prospector whomeveryone loved.

By EDMUND C. JAEGERFrank Coffey always followed his burros sometimes a couple of them, atother times a dozen. Photo by Stuart Peck.

Burro-man of the Desert . . .OF the most gifted story tel-lers f the Southern Californiadesert was Frank Coffey who formany years before his death in 1936lived in a little cabin at Dos Palmason the old Bradshaw stage route nearthe head of Salton Sea. Among thedesert rats Frank was known as theMayor of Dos Palmas.I first met him in 1919. He was pastmiddle age then, and had been pros-pecting the Colorado and Mojave des-erts according to his story since the'80s. He was a graduate mining en-gineer, and in 1906 worked with theSouthern Pacific engineers when theywere rushing shoo-fly track construc-tion around Salton Sea to keep theirroadbed above the rising waters of theflood which poured into the sea froma break in the Colorado River belowYu m a .Frank had followed his burrosthrough every canyon in the Chocolate

and Chuckawalla Mountains, alwaysin search of pay dirt. He lived andfollowed the trails alone much of thetimebut he was not a recluse in anysense of the word.Frank generally introduced himselfto a stranger as a very quiet man."Now, I 'm a man of few words," hewould begin in rich-voiced and de-liberate man ner. Five minutes later heprobably was starting a narrative thatwould take four or five hours to finish.Story material or a gifted vocabularynever failed him.The longest tale I ever heard FrankCoffey tell began the first morning 1

met him. It was 10:00 o'clock whenhe started and almost without inter-ruption he talked until midnight. ThenI protested because of drowsiness. Itold him he'd have to finish next morn-ing. Sure enough, he had me out ofbed at daylight, the story was soon re-sumed and 1 never hea rd the finish ofit because in desperation 1 packed myburros and pulled away from him atmid-day. He followed me a half miletalking all the while before he finallyreluctantly turned back.

Frank Coffey was a burro-m an. Healways had several jacks and jenniesaround him and he loved and trustedthem as few desert men I've ever met.Gus Lederer, prospector at CornSprings in the Chuckawalla Mountains,always had anywhere from a dozen to18 of the animals and once a year theMayor of Dos Palmas and his burrostraded visits with the Mayor of CornSprings and his tribe of donkeys.Neither would have thought of ex-changing visits without taking the bur-ros along.On Sunday morning Coffey gener-ally baked a huge pile of soggy flap-jacks, enough to last a week for him-self and his burros. His beloved ani-mal cronies usually got a pancake feedat least once a day. "Coffey's leather-ies," the pancakes were dubbed by theprospector himself. 1 learned by tast-ing one that they were well namedindeed. Only a burro could fail tohave a heavy stomach after eating one.Coffey 's prospecting adventuresnever panned out. He was always liv-

ing on the border-line of poverty.Quite often the only way he lived atall was by getting some unsuspectingtenderfoot to give him a grub-stake.He prospected until the stores of foodran out and then looked for anotherGood Samaritan to locate mines for.One couldn't help liking Frank andhis friends were always adding to hislarder gifts of canned goods and staplesin exchange for a chance to hear hisanecdotes. One of his ways of secur-ing a square meal at the expense ofnew acquaintances was to invite themto take him up nearby Salt Creek soThis was a characteristic pose ofFrank Coffey he gazed at theground and talked on and on.



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This picture of Dos Palmas oasis where Coffey lived in a cabin for many years wastaken in 1946. The original two palms have increased to many in recent years.he could show them his famous"needle." This was a spectacular clayand conglomerate formation in one ofthe side canyons and was well worthseeing. Coffey never tired telling ofits beauty. Generally he arranged totake his friends up there at a timethat would span the noon lunch hour.Of course he got a square meal outof it, and left-overs usually were passedon to him. These he accepted apolo-getically with such courteous languageas only Coffey could muster.Frank Coffey regarded himself asquite a cook. He never tired of brag-ging of his culinary abilities. One timeI came upon him at the table while hewas eating some grease-soaked breadfrom a frying pan. Around him on thetable were seven cats each happilychewing away at a slab of burned-blackyam. "Coffey's good coffee" was gen-erously served but was always theworst brewed drink on the desert. Itnever bothered him that he had tomake it from the famous Dos Palmassalt and alkali water or that the coffeegrounds were old. He often failed toempty them for a week.His beans were so hot with chili it

took a man with an asbestos-linedmouth, gullet and stomach to eat anddigest even a half plate of them. Heboasted that he had an efficient way ofkeeping his table "reasonably" sani-tary. He started off each week by put-ting dow n a fresh new spaper. Whenthat got gummed up and sticky withgrease and syrup he just added anotherpaper. By the end of the season thetable cover might be a half-inch thickand each part was well glued to itspredecessor. At the back of the tablenext to the wall was an assembly ofdust -covered pepper-sauce bot t les ,spice cans, soy-sauce jugs and miscel-laneous pickle and mustard containers.Dishwashing was no chore for Frank.A tub of water from the warm "milkspring," as he dubbed it, was near athand and all he had to do was to tossthe dirty dishes in and "let 'em soak."When meal-time came again he fishedout and rinsed the ones he requiredand the rest remained in soak perhapsfor a fortnight or longer.

Posted all over the desert on Cof-fey's lines of travel, on palo verde treesor mesquite limbs and on driven stakes,were his invitations to friends and

strangers to come and dine with him.Written in the beautiful hand-writingof a real pen-artist, one might find outin some lonely spot 20 miles from thenearest camp a sign reading:"When you get ready, come tocamp and we'll make up a stewwith all the trimmings. Frank H.Coffey, prospector in charge forthe owner." or:"Make yourself at home. Goneto Mecca to vote with the otherburros. When I get back we'llmake a big mulligan stew, trim-mings and all. Frank H. Coffey, aprospector and a good one."Nearby one might find a couple ofblackened stones marking the site ofhis all-night or hurried noon-day campand beside it would be a pile of wood;for with him it was a matter of honorand decency to "always leave a littlewood for the next fellow's fire. Th atnext fellow might be you."Beside the old wagon-road passingDos Palmas Spring was a grave stone

about whose origin Frank Coffey gavean account to every traveller whowould stay on to listen. It marked thegrave of "Poor Baby White." It seemsM A R C H , 1 9 5 1 23


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Although this picture wastaken several years ago, the little grave and theheadstone placed there by Frank Coffee may still be seen near the palms.that a party of roving Texans oncepassed Dos Palmas and while theycamped at thespring a baby died.Theparents simply dug a small trench,laid the body in, covered it over andpassed on, marking theplace with noteven somuch as a grave-board. Thatwas too crude for Frank Coffey. Hewent north-east 50 miles to the Cox-comb Mountains, got a slab of soap-stone and carried it all the way bybur ro toDos Palmas. On it hechiseledan inscription and placed the head-stone on thegrave. As long as Coffeylived at Dos Palmas he never failedto seethat a flower or two wasplacedoccasionally on the grave of "PoorBaby White." Thus wasregistered thehuman side of a rough, "patch-pantsedprospector ."

Coffey was intimately connectedwith the development of old RedCloud Mine at the southern base ofthe Chuckawalla Mountains. He oftentold of his neat job of stone laying,when the mine boss wanted a smallsmelter built. Thesmelter waserecteda half century ago but most of thewalls are still intact. Coffey had nouse for the mine promoter, who hesaid salted the mine and sold sharesof stock to hisfriends. "I don't knowwhat he ever didwant a smelter for,unless it was to smelt stockholders,"Frank would say.Water washard to get at old RedCloud but it wasplentiful across themountain to theeast at Corn Springs.

It seems that a widow was in posses-sion of the springs, and according to

Coffey the promoter at Red Cloudwanted the water. He trumped upcharges and entered suit against herfor herholdings. Coffey liked to tellho w he was "all for justice for thepoor oldwidow and all out to aidher ,"and how in the court he testified inher favor andhelped her to keep herwater "from that hypocrite from LosAngeles." "Say, I'd sell a gold mineto a rich man, but I'd never sue awidow," I'veoften heard himproudlysay in ascending tones of excitementas he slapped a hand on my shoulderand almost pushed me backwards offmy feet. Som etimes he'd repeat itthree times in succession each timeending with the exclamatory "What!What! What!" , in tones louder thanbefore.

In his later years OldFrank becameso feeble hecould nolonger look afterhimself. Hisfriends got him to go onan auto ride which ended at theRiver-side County Hospital. To put FrankCoffey in an institution was like put-ting a wild free animal in a cage. Henever could accustom himself to theconfinement and to the routine ofhospital civilization. Hewas socrushedin spirit and so unhappy that he wasfinally allowed to go into a nursinghome. Butthat too, was different fromhis beloved desert. Hedied inOctober,1936, at the age of 77, a lonely anddejected man.

The prospector's name is perpetu-ated in place name on maps of theChocolate Mountains where he spentmuch of his life. Coffey Spring liesin a gulch just a fewmiles north ofthe Salton Sea. THREE STATES M OVE TOSETTLE FISHING FEUDA move has been launched in theArizona state legislature to settle thefeud with California andNevada overfishing rights in the Colorado riverand Lake Havasu near Needles.Members of the house of represen-tatives, meeting in Phoenix, suggestedin a joint memorial that the threestates sign a reciprocal licensing agree-ment.

Such a settlement would end a longcontroversy between the three states'fish and game commissions and giveaccess to all Colorado river waters tofishermen holding a non-resident li-cense. Thepermit would be grantedin payment of a small fee.Previously, all states have finedfishermen without their specific licenses

when found fishing in their territoryon the river andlake. Desert Star.24 DESERT MAGAZINE


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First prize in Desert Magazine'sJanuary photo contest was wonby E. Foster Scholey of Prescott,Arizona, with the picture of des-ert hyacinths taken at WhiteHorse Lake, Arizona. Camerawas a Kodak Reflex, picture at11:00 a.m. at 1/100, Fll.

D e a t h V a l l e y a t S u n s e tSecond prize in the Januarycontest went to Bill Stoughton ofPasadena, California, with hisphotograph of the Death ValleyDunes. This picture was takenwith a Kodak, exposure 1/10second at F16.

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* ':.GHOST TOWN

By MARGARET MACLAREN DIERKSChicago. IllinoisHere, with your back against a mountainwallAs though to share its strength, as thoughyou guessedThat Time would be the winner over all,You standa symbol of the early West.What tales of violence and brazen wrongYour streets could tell! What crimes your

sawdust floorsCould reconstruct! What ribald, drunkensongOf men who swaggered through your swing-ing do ors!A ruthless god of silver ruled your world;The lives of menmere notches in a gun;The dice were shaken, rolleda wheel waswhirledA card was flippeda fortune lost or won.Play your last hand with reckless disregard,It matters not Time holds the winningcard. GRAND CANYON TRAILBy RALPH A. FISHER, SR.

Phoenix, ArizonaThey still preach at the old adobe mission.Of padre, guide, friar and conquistadorAs the first to reach the Grand Canyon,For record! A wooden cross of a pros-pector.Others from books do teach the class,Of conestoga wagon, oxen and pioneerFrom far across the winding mountain pass,Did conquer its greatness and its fear.In this some history will confute.That a Pagan chief from thetribeUncompahgre, Kaviawach, Unita, the UteAs first to glimpse the Canyon, with hisbride.But I remember as a boya trail.Never made by padre, Ute or pioneerNor knights in quest of any Holy Grail,To me, only God toiled and rested here.26

By MIRIAM ANDERSONSan Bernardino, CaliforniaDown sunbright trails of memory.Verbenas speak to me today:Of musing, desert sand swept space.And Palo Verde's golden lace;And time locked hours that drifted byWhile small winds sang their lullabyAccompanied by thebeat of hoofsBeneath theedge of Time's blue roof.Fo r to thehills so far awav,Verbenas spread a rug today:A magic, purple carpet forA wish upon an early star.

LONGINGBy DICK JOSLINHonolulu, HawaiiOh give me a place in thedesertWhere the sunburns all things clean,Away from thebustle and turmoilLet melive a life serene;Let mewatch the glorious sunsets;Let mebreathe the fresh pure air;Let me meditate on beautyWithout a worry or care.

What good is the making of moneyIf I lose mysoul thereby?1 get closer to God in a wildernessThan many dowhen they die.

By TANYA SOUTHCome then or good orfalter.Though sorry Karmaening halterUpon my hopes andremainIn every grainLoyal and true to God

bad, Ithrowsplans,

and HiThrough my best concept offor me.

will nota tight-I shalldecree.His will

I HOLD INFINITYBy DOROTHY L. CASH

Laguna Beach, California1 hold a rock, one tiny rock,In this mortal handI hold fire, pressure, shock.Minerals, gases, and sand.I hold millions of light years,Millions of dark,Lit through dim spheresBy Eternal Spark.I hold grindings intense,Heavings and slides,Pressures immenseOf whole mountainsides;Vapored worlds of diffusion.Liquid fires, molten sands,The baked, inner fusionOf age-weary lands.In God's furnace annealed.By Him glacier-strewnO'er myriad valley and field,To Infinity's tune!1 hold a rock, one tiny rock.In this mortal hand.

SONNET TO WYOMINGBy ROBERT TURNERGreybull, WyomingThe purple sage extends for untold mile,And little tufts of grass addazure hue,While distantly, a snow capped mountainpeakExtends ten thousand feet into theblue.Why is it that I love this barren land,This desolation God forgot tobless?Why do I hold so dear this sage and sand.This bleak and silent prison of duress?At evening, when the amber sun retires,And moon and stars break forth their silveryglow,And music emanates from bush and grass,Like harps aroused by prairie winds thatblow,Then am I sure, as I stand in the gloaming,No mortal man could fail to love Wyoming.

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He Flunked in Geography . . .Pacifice Grove, CaliforniaDesert:We are Californians and like to seeour state correctly publicized.In the January number of DesertMagazine is the item, "Squaw ValleySki Championships, etc., at Reno, Ne-vada." Squaw Valley is not in Nevada,but on the California side of LakeTahoevery much so.HI L DA VAN SI CKL E NDesert's Ski editor never did getgood grades in geography. Hisapologies to all Californians forputting Squaw Valley on thewrong side of Lake Tahoe. R.H. More Bad Geography . . .Imperial, CaliforniaDesert:I know you want to be accurate inDesert Magazine, and I want to callattention to the fact that the ImperialMidwinter Fair is held at Imperial, andnot at El Centra as stated in the Feb-ruary issue. Imperial was founded in1904and El Centra not unti l 1907.G R A C E E . G R A YWe should've known betterthan that since Desert Magazinewas born and spent its childhoodin El Centro, five miles from the

Imperial County Fairground. R.H. e Tin Can Barometer . . .Barstow, CaliforniaDesert:Referring to your as always excel-lent editorials and particularly the No-vember one regarding the desecrationof the desert and its highways withrubbish, beer bottles and cans, I findmyself wholly in agreement with youand also the follow-up letter of Wm.E. Miller in January Desert.

Here at Barstow, center of the scenicand great Mojave Desert Empire wewatch these bottles as a barometer orrather criterion of the times. Duringthe depression the desert highways andby-ways were strewn with beer bottles.When business improved it changedto wine bottles. Now that the desertis enjoying the greatest prosperity inhistory, you will find nothing butbonded whisky and imported cham-pagne bottles.San Bernardino county and statehighway crews, however, do an excel-lent job of trying to clean up thismess. C A R Y L K R O U S E R

In Defense of Wildlife . . .Las Vegas, NevadaDesert:I just read George M. Bradt's storyabout the "desert ogres," and I thankhim from the bottom of my heart forchampioning the desert creatures. Ifmore stories like his were publishedmaybe people won't want to killeverything they don't like the looks of.Some kill for the love of killingeven slaughter the burro which reallyis a part of the desert.And Mr. C. A. Powers, the snakeyou killed was not the deadly coral,but a coral king snake or "false coral,"entirely harmless and the most beauti-ful snake in the United States. Theircoloring is the same, but the stripesare reversed.I hope people will realize that theseliving things make the desert moreinterestingand will stop killing themon sight. DORA T UCKE R

Regarding Jackrabbit HomesteadsLos Angeles, CaliforniaDesert:

The very informative article pub-lished in the February issue of DesertMagazine pertaining to JackrabbitHomesteads is much appreciated.However, there are some minor pointsin connection with the story I wouldlike to correct:In paragraph 4, you stated that thefiling fee was $ 5.00 and the rental$5.00 a year. The new regulations re-quire a $10.00 filing fee and the rentalfor the entire period of the lease, or$15.00, to be paid in advance.In another paragraph, you statedthat the valuation of the land was notfixed until the land is purch ased. Insome cases, this is true, but in themajority of cases where the land isclassified, an appraisal has been made.In your last paragraph, formerlythese lands were under the GeneralLand Office with a Commissioner in

charge, and with local District LandOffices, with a Register in charge ofeach one. A few years ago, the Graz-ing Bureau and the General LandOffice were abolished and the two of-fices were taken over by the Bureauof Land Management, and they havedecentralized their main office intoseven Regional Offices. The RegionalOffice for this area is ?t 630 SansomeSt., San Franc isco, California. Thename of the District Land Office hasbeen changed to Land Office, Eiureauof Land Management, and these officesare under the Regional Office, and theRegisters are now Managers.PAUL B.^WITMER

They're All American Citizens . . .Albuquerque, New MexicoDesert:Your editorial in February acknowl-edges your indebtedness to DorothyPillsbury, author of No High Adobe,for suggesting the terminology of In-dians, Anglos and Mexicans to desig-nate the several groups of Americans.Better go pretty slow with that labelof "Mexican" or you are going to stepon a lot of ethnic toes.Many of my Spanish speakingfriends take exception, and for myselfI admit that objection is rather valid.If you are going to call naturalizedand native born Spanish speakingpeople "Mexicans" what are you goingto call the citizens of Mexico? Thefact is that the term "Mexican" in thisarea is generally construed as referringto Mexican nationals, and the Span-ish-speaking natives of New Mexicorather object to losing their American

citizenship in such a high-handed man-ner, especially in view of the fact thatmost of them have never seen Mexico.Better stick to the time-tried termof Spanish-Americans if ethnic group-ings must be emph asized. If you don 't,better be prepared, for I predict apunative expedition of Mrs. Apodacaherself straight out of No HighA dobe! J . W. ALLEN Volcano or Meteorite? . . .Meredith, New HampshireDesert:In Randall Henderson's excitingstory, "We Found a Way into Ele-gante," January, 1950, he has showna fine picture, not, I think, of "an ex-tinct volcano," but more likely, I mightsuggest, the very ancient crater of anenormous meteorite. This pictureshows no volcanic rim, on the con-trary, it gives us a look into a shallowhole one mile in diameter, its outeredge, like that of a pie plate, crumbledrubble from the rim-rock.

I have visited many volcanic craterslong agoand all of them showedhigh rims, turned back, as from somemighty force from a central depth.As Mr. Henderson suggests, of course,this hole might have been made as theresult of a gas explosion; but it seemshard to imagine that the mere burstingof a subterranean gas bubble couldlift and dematerialize the enormouscoverage of such a space withoutleaving a depth that millions of yearscould never refill.

Driving from Flagstaff to Winslow,many years ago, I visited the greatmeteoric crater, which lies about sevenmiles below old Indian "Two-Gun's"show-shack, out in the desert. Desert'spicture of Elegante m'ght well have

M A R C H , 1 9 5 1 27


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been taken from one side of its rim,although its rim was turned back,more on one side than on the other.The Winslow crater surely must havebeen of a more recent date than theone in Mexico, which, perhaps, is theexplanation of this normally flat rim-rock. Ages might have crumbled theupthrust, and these crumblings couldbe the fine rubble which the visitingparty descended and climbed again.If 1 were young again, 1 surelywould like to spend at least a weekprospecting for evidence of my hunchthat, millions of centuries ago, a mightymeteor buried itself deep below the610-foot level, where men now maywalk in safety, if not in comfort. That'sa challenge for members of a youngergeneration.

FREDERICK FORREST BERRY Honoring the Pioneers . . .Hemet, CaliforniaDesert :1 am deeply interes ted in your ref-erence in the January issue to the an-nual encampment of the Death Valley'49er Enca mp men t. 1 agree that it ismost important to keep alive the mem-ories of the old pioneers for they hadsomething which humans need in everyplace and timethe will and courage

to explore new ideas as well as newplaces.1 have much respect for the term"Desert R at." It belongs only to thosewho know what it is to struggle for aliving under hard and discouragingcond itions. I hop e you are successfulin developing the Death Valley En-campm ent idea an occasion for areunion of the old-timers as well as aninspiration to the younger generation.T O M C L A R Ka N i g h t s U n d e r t h e S

195103 desert magazine 1951 march

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