195107 desert magazine 1951 july

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JULY, 1951 35 CENTS


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Photograph byWilliam SchoebD A Y OF W R A T HBy PHILIP L. C OFFI NYucaipa, CaliforniaNoon on the desert. The meridian sunBrands thepale zenith with a blazing torchUnder whose furnaced tyranny the dunScarred sand and theblack shoals of lavascorch

And smoulder in a vibrant, dazzling haze.Noon on thedesert. In the lonely sky,Wheeling on balanced wings, a vultureswaysOver the lonely plain without acry,A noiseless ghoul, nurtured by this bleakwaste.Where, through infinities of tropic dayAnd arctic night, silent andwithout haste.Relentless nature moves upon her way.Forging grim barriers that bold men passTo hear death rattle from the witheredgrass. THE P RO SP ECTO R'S G AINBy AMY VIAUSanta Ana, CaliforniaThe prospector's eyes aresquint andkeenFrom searching the hills and the depthsbetween,From scanning and testing earth's variedlays

As hepushes through uncharted ways.The prospector's heart istough and fitWith theadventurous hope andheroic gritAs he courts and bears all Nature's flingFor thechance to riches earth may bring.The prospector's gain issure and soundThough riches from oremay not be found.He's richer far forthe solitudeWith the mighty earth, unmanned and nude.

AFTER THE SHOWERBy MARY PERDEWSanta Ana, CaliforniaJeweled thorns on thePrickly pear,Diamond tear dropsBrilliant and rare.Dull leaves paintedA new bright green.Sagebrush touchedWith a softer sheen,Zestful breezesClean washed and free.Birds trilling gailyFrom bush and tree:All Nature jubilant, shining, and gay-Magic ofrain on adesert day.

% e eBy CHARLES C. STEVENSONLos Angeles, California

Oh ageless One,You stand a silent sentinel of a time goneby.While gentle desert sands sweep your feetIn quiet reverence.You have no voice toutter warningsOf aworld tocome.Or tell ofEarth's upheavalsIn the pre-historic.Your uplift arms compel theweary travelerTo raise his gaze above mortal vein.Your unearthly beauty is enhancedWhen pale moonlight throws your gro-tesque shapeIn sharp relief against ajeweled sky.Yet you remain unmatched by hand ofman;Unshaken byatomic force.For only God creates eternity.

DESERT INFLUENCEBy MARGARET HORMELL

North Palm Springs, CaliforniaI think of God, in greasewood after rainIts pungent incense girds the desert sod;And when the winds assault my drowsyplainI think ofGod,And know that slumbering seed within thepo dCannot without a rousing jolt attainNew growth, nor man a broader path hastrodWithout conflicting tastes of joy andpain.But, always under stars ofgoldenrod,When velvet-footed Quiet descends againI think ofGod.

AN ELUSIVE LASSBy ELSIE MCKINNON STACHANSanta Ana, CaliforniaThe desert breeze, anelusive lass,Lithe and warm and fair,Skirts mesquite, in sandaled feet;Yet leaves no footprints there.Much against being housed orfenced,Or tethered anywhere,The desert breeze, an elusive lass,Shakes star-glint from her hair.

By TANYA SOUTHWhat wehave wrought, or good orbad.The Future's written in the PastA world with blood andgore gonemad.It will not last, itcannot last!No, nothing lasts. The gamut gained,The tide recedes again. And we,Upon this little earth sustained,Bowed by life's seeming mystery,Pause unseeing inour course.Refusing toadmit the sourceOf what has been and istoday.We always learn the hardest way.And yet the Earth isbut aschool,And only certain lessons brings.And we, to rise above Earth's rule,Must grow and learn to use ourwings.

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D E S E R T C A L E N D A RJune 29-July 1Rodeo at Elko, Ne-vada.June 30-July 1Sierra Club memberswill climb San Jacinto peak fromStrawberry Valley. Toni Gamero,leader.July 1-2Annual rodeo at Silver City,New Mexico.July 1-4 Annual Fiesta and DevilDance at Mescalero Apache Indianreservation, Mescalero, New Mex-i c o .July 1-4Reno Rodeo and LivestockAssociation holds its annual rodeoat Reno, Nevada.July 1-4 Frontier Day Roundup,Prescott. Arizona.July 2-4 All-Indian Pow-Wow atFlagstaff, Arizona.July 2-4Hillbilly Jubilee, rodeo andbarbecue. Idyllwild, California.July 3-5Lions Club rodeo at Gal-l u p . New Mexico.July 4Annual Roundup at Cimar-ron. New Mexico.July 4Rabbit Ear Roundup rodeoat Clayton, New Mexico.July 4 Annual rodeo at Grants,New Mexico.July 7-9Ute Stampede at Nephi,Utah.July 8-9Onate Spanish and Indianfiesta, Espanola. New Mexico.July 14 Annual Fiesta and Corndance at Cochiti Indian Pueblo,New Mexico.July 15-16Round Valley rodeo atSpringerville, Arizona.July 21-22Members of Rock Climb-ing section of Sierra Club will havepractice climb at Tahquitz peak.Phil Johnson, leader.July 25Annual Corn dance at TaosPueblo, New Mexico.July 26Annual Fiesta and dance

at Santa Ana Pueblo, NewMexico.July 27-30State convention of Ari-zona American Legion, Nogales,Arizona.July 28-29Sierra Club 100-peakerswill make knapsack trip to top ofSan Gorgonio. Frank D. Sanborn,leader.July 28-30Racing meet at CedarCity, Utah.During July Southwest Museum inLos Angeles will exhibit the col-lection of Indian objects gatheredby Mrs. Louis J. Gillespie of LongBeach. Museum is open daily ex-cept Monday, 1 to 5. Admissionfree.

V o l u m e 14 JULY, 1951 N u m b e r 9COVERPOETRYCALENDARN A T U R EA R C H E O L O G YEXPLORATIONLOST GOLDP A G E A N TFIELD TRIPP H O T O G R A P H YM ININGI N D I A N SC O N T E S TLETTERSDESERT QUIZN E W SLAPIDARYHOBBYB O O K SC O M M E N TFICTIONCLOSE- UPS

HAVASU FALLS. Photo by Martha Burleigh,Glendale, California

The Joshua Tree, and other poems 2July events on the desert 3Bunch Grass Lizard, by GEORGE BRADT . . 4Clues to :he Tribesmen Who Lived by the River

By LAURA BELL 5We Camped With the Pai-Pais

By RANDALL HENDERSON 8Lost Loma Gold, by KARL HUDSON . . . . 13Death Valley '49er Encampment for 1951 . . 14On Black Rock Desert Trails

By NELL MURBARGER 15Pictures of the Month 21Current news of desert mines 22Mrs. Onegoat Weaves a Rug

By SANDY HASSELL 23Prizes for deser t pictures 24Comment from Desert's reade rs 25A test of your desert knowledge 26From here and there on the dese rt 27Amateur Gem Cutter, by LELANDE QUICK . . 32Gems and Minerals 33Reviews of Southwest literature 37Just Between You and Me. By the editor . . 38Hard Rock Shorty of Death Valley 39About those who write for Desert 39

The Desert Magazine is published monthly by the Desert Press, Inc., Palm Desert,California. Re-entered as second class matter July 17, 1948, at the 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 1951 by the Desert Press, Inc. Permission to reproduce contentsmust be secured from the editor in writing.RANDALL HENDERSON, Editor BESS STACY, Business Mana gerMARTIN MORAN, Circulation Manager E. H. VANNOSTRAND, Advertising ManagerLos Angeles Office (Advertising Only): 2635 Adelbert Ave.,Phone NOrmandy 3-1509Unsolicited manusc ripts and photographs submitted cannot be returned or acknowledgedunless full return postage is enclosed. Desert Magazine assumes no responsibility fordamage or loss of manuscripts or photographs although due care will be exercised. Sub-scribers should send notice of change of address by the first of the month preceding issue.SUBSCRIPTION RATESOne Year $8.50 TwoYears $6.00Canadian Subscriptions 25c Extra, Foreign 50c ExtraSubscriptions to Army Personnel Outside U. S. A. Must Be Mailed in Conformity WithP . 0. D. Order No. 19687Address Correspondence to Pesert Magazine, Palm Desert, California

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Bunch Grass Lizard(Sceloporus scalaris slerini)

By GEORGE BRADTThis small beautifully patterned lizard bears a very excellent descriptivenam e. Never have I found one more than a few feet aw ay from clum ps ofcoarse grass which appea r to be its habitat. Occasionally they will mak e a

dash from the sheltering bunch of grass as if indulging in a reptilian game ofpussy-wants-a-corner. I can as sur e an y one who w ants to collect one ofthese little fellows that he will literally have to tear the clump of grass apartbla de by blad e to find the wa ry lizard. These saur ians are s een in SouthernArizona.D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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Archeologist Schroeder carefully brushes away earthfrom exca vated specimen of pottery as campsites areunearthed in various layers of the silt along Coloradoriver.

Archeologist Gordon Baldwin of the National ParkService gazes thoughtfully upon skeleton of prehistoricIndian uncovered in excavations along Colorado river.The Indian was buried a thousand years ago.

Clues to the TribesmenWho Lived by the R iverBy LAURA BELLPhotographs cour tesy Nat ional Park Serv ice

HILE SPORTSMEN are look-ing forward to a great newfishing paradise and the Cham-ber of Commerce is readying a folderon the scenic and recreational attrac-tions of Lake Mohave which is nowforming behind Davis dam on the Col-orado river, the National Park Serviceis busy salvaging records that ancientman left in this basin which soon willlie forever submerged beneath lappingwaves.George F. Baggley, superintendentof the Lake Mead National Recrea-tional area, in which Lake Mohavelies, points out that it is vital to pre-serve these records on rocks and inburied campsites because so many of

As the waters of the newL a k e M o h a v e s l o w l y a r espreading over the lowlandsalong the Colorado River aboveDavis d a m , archeologists of theNational Park Service havebeen waging a race againsttime to recover what artifactscould be salvaged from ancientIndian sites in the area to beinun date d. Here is the story ofsome of the interesting discov-eries they have made in ihisland of prehistoric Indians.them tie in with prehistoric remains ofother areas.

Petroglyphs which can be moved arebeing taken out by truck and boat,while larger ones are being photo-graphed and sketched. Landmarks andIndian trails are being mapped andphotographed, and a series of movingpictures is being made showing theeffects on wildlife of the encroachingwaters of the Bureau of Reclamation'smost recent gem in the necklace oflakes it envisions on the Coloradoriver.One of the most interesting phasesof the salvage operations has been theuncovering and removal of materialfrom several campsite levels on theArizona bank of the river about 15miles below Hoover dam. To carry

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Downstream face of recently completed Davis dam, 67 miles below Hoover damon the Colorado R iver, which is backing up water to form the new Lake Moha ve.Waters of the new lake are gradually covering data of prehistory which the NationalPark Service is recovering for future study. Photo by Phil Blew.on these excavations of prehistoricIndian artifacts, Albert H. Schroeder,National Park Service archeologist,was transferred to the Boulder City,Nevada headquarters from the Monte-zuma Castle national monument inArizona.

Whether the broken artifacts ofthese nomadic peoples called "Pa-tayan" by scientistswill explain whythey once camped along the river andthen disappeared, never to camp thereagain, is one of the secrets to whichhe is seeking the key.During these excavations, eight bur-ials were found and the skeletal ma-terial sent to the Smithsonian Institu-tion in Washington, D. C. for furtherstudy. All were associated with layersin which pottery was discovered and onthis basis the archeoloeist dates thembetween 700 and 1100 A.D. It hasbeen concluded from field observationsthat the Colorado River Indians madepottery during that era. However, theriver Indians apparently were in thehabit of cremating their dead; so theburials may have been of visitingsouthern Nevada Pueblos who carriedon trade with the river Indians.Such questions may be cleared upat leisure, now that the excavationshave been completed and the materialsremoved to the safety of the Park Ser-vice museum in Boulder City for clas-sification and study.Excavating was done in such a waythat reconstruction of the scenes willbe possible. The soil was removed in

blocks three and a half feet by sevenfeet, and 10 inches deep. The ma-terial from each block was screened,put in a separate container and labeled.Careful measurements were kept.Pottery, roasting pits, and imple-ments found in the various layers aresimilar to those of other prehistoricgroups that once lived along the Colo-rado. Nomadic habits are indicatedby the fact that the various layers ex-cavated were plainly campsites. SomePueblo pottery and turquoise werefound, probably traded in by the visi-tors, Schroeder says.The grinding stones or metates arethe basin type used by nomadic peoplesfor grinding seeds and nuts, ratherthan the trough type used by thePueblos for grinding corn.Thus the story of these peoples wholived before history, is gradually piecedtogether from bits of broken pottery,stone arrow points, scrapers and knives,shell and turquoise beads, a few boneimplements.The pottery levels were restricted tothe upper four feet of soil, then therewere alternating layers of sterile ma-terial, laid on by the river in flood,and layers containing stone implementsof the prepottery eras before 700 A.D.Dates of these might forever remaina mystery except for an astonishingnew development in the study of radio-active materials. Scientists have foundthat charcoal has an element, carbon-14 , which is radioactive. Furtherm orethey have determ ined the rate at which

it distintegrates, and thus have giventhemselves a measuring stick for theage of a piece of charcoal unearthedfrom the site of a prehistoric camp-fire.Another interesting salvage opera-tion was the removal, a few days afterChristmas, 1950, of 16 petroglyphrocks from a slope on the Arizonaside which was covered with volcaniclava boulders, on many of which theprehistoric Indians had left picturesof mountain sheep, suns, arrows, men,and various geometric figures.So far, no one has been able to makeanything out of them, according toSchroeder. They are not unique tothis site; though nothing so extensivehas been found elsewhere. They seemto be along river trails leading to theColorado, with an odd distribution innorthwestern Arizona, southern Ne-vada, and southeastern California.To salvage these petroglyphs. ParkService personnel waited until the lakerose to their level on the formerly in-accessible slope; then approached themby boat and loaded the best speci-mens (of a size that could be handled)aboard. They rowed across the laketo the Eldorado Canyon fishing camp,transferred the boulders to trucks, andhauled them to the museum in BoulderCity.There they now lie, silently guard-ing secrets they may someday disclose,while Lake Mohave deepens over thesite from which they were removed.Some of them will remain in the

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museum, others will be incorporatedin structures of native rock which thePark Service contemplates building onlookout points above this sparklingnew attraction in the Lake Mead Na-tional Recreational Area which isdrawing more than a million and ahalf visitors a year.The lake is expected to reach itsmaximum depth during the summer of1951 when it will reach an elevationof 643 feet above sea level. At thatpoint there will be only slight fluctua-tions in the shoreline, making possiblepermanent installations of recreationalfacilities by the Park Service and itsconcessionaires. This is in contrast toLake Mead, behind Hoover dam, 67miles above Davis dam, whose shorerecedes as much as 40 feet from highlevel in July to low level in April.Lake Mohave can be kept level byreleasing water from Davis dam atthe same rate it flows in from the hugehydroelectric power plant at Hooverdam. By August the new scenic lakewill extend 67 miles to the tailrace ofthis plant, and sightseers on scheduledboat trips will be able to look up atand photograph the tallest dam in theworld.

Evidence unearthed by the ParkService archeologists indicates thata considerable population of Indiansonce lived on the shores of the Colo-rado River where the new lake isbeing formed.After a lapse of many hundreds ofyears, it appears that the rocky terrainof this Colorado River valley is againto become a popular mecca for humanbeings for Rainbow trout, plantedseveral years ago, thrive in the coldwater of the Hoover dam tailrace.Sportsmen are confident that Lake Mo-have will soon become the largestRainbow trout pond in the West. Andif this proves to be true, new roadsand resort accommodations will attractthousands of anglers to the area.National Park Service archeologistA Ibert Schroeder views for the lasttime a prehistoric camp site, markedby a circle of rocks. A few daysafter this picture was taken thering and nearby petroglyphs werecovered by the rising waters ofLake Mohave.As many of the petroglyph-cov-ered boulders as could be removedby boat were taken across the lakeand placed in the National Parkmuseum in Boulder City.Showing the method of excavatingthe prehistoric campsites to recoverwhat artifacts and data could besalvaged before the rising watersof the lake had buried them for-

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Men of the Pai Pai tribe came down to our camp to spend the evening. Secondfrom the left is Ramon Arvallo, the chief of this little band of Catarina Yumas.On the right is Hector Borquez who helped roast the mescal.

We Camped With the Pai-PaisIn a remote desert canyon in Baja California, Randall Hendersonand his companions came upon a little band of Indians, descendantsof tribesmen who once harassed the Dominican fathers at the SantaCatarina mission. Here is the story of this unexpected encounter withIndians who, although quite peaceful today, are still following manyof the ancient customs of their fathers.

E WENT hunting for palmtrees and found a tribe ofIndians. That, briefly, is whathappened in mid-April this year whenI accompanied my old companeros ofthe trailAries Adams and Bill Sher-rillon a two-day jeep trip into thedesert wilderness of Baja California.The fourth member of our party wasAries' 17-year-old son Tony.Aries had suggested the trip. Assuperintendent of the California Cen-tral Fiber corporation's mill in ElCentra, he employes many Mexicans.One of them had told him about analmost inaccessible palm canyon knownas Santa Ysabel on the desert side ofthe Sierra Juarez range. Accordingto the report of a vaquero who hadseen the canyon it was about 60 milessouth of the California border, andhad good water and many palms.On previous trips into that regionwe had learned that some of the most

By RANDALL HENDERSONMap by Norton Allengorgeous scenery in North Americais found in those palm canyons of theBaja California desertand that de-spite the absence of good roads, amajority of them can be reached byjeep.

Early in the morning of April 14we passed through the internationalgateway at Calexico and Mexicali. TheMexican immigration officers wavedus on without even asking for ourvisas. 1 was told that since the new140-mile paved road has been openedto the gulf fishing village of San Fe-lipe, the Mexicali inspectors have re-laxed their restrictions on visitingmotorists. While it is still advisablefor those going beyond the city limitsof Mexicali to have tourist passports,they may never be called upon toshow them.We followed the San Felipe roadacross the Colorado river delta whereMexican farmers with modern equip-

ment are growing grain and cotton onthe most fertile land in their Republic.At 37.4 miles south of Mexicali wepassed through the little adobe settle-ment of La Puerta where gasoline andgroceries are now available for motor-ists. Hundreds of Anglo-Americanfishermen now going to San Felipeevery month have become an import-ant source of new income to the mer-chants here and at El Mayor furthersouth.At 9.2 miles beyond La Puerta weleft the paved road and turned westto cross the Cocopah range over anold road which leads to a sulphurmine that has been worked occasion-ally for many years. The rocky trailled up a steep incline to the top of therange, and there we looked down onthe great Laguna Salada basin, whereJames O. Pattie and his party of trap-pers nearly perished in 1830.Pattie and seven companions had

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worked their way down the ColoradoRiver trapping beaver, and had reachedthe delta with heavy loads of pelts.There the Indians stole all their horses.The trappers buried their furs andstarted for the Spanish settlements onthe Pacific coast on foot.Laguna Salada, now dry, is a greatlevel playa 18 miles wide and 60 mileslong, much of it as barren of vegeta-

tion as a sand dune. The Cocopahrange is on its east side, and the SierraJuarez on the west.Although it was February whenPattie crossed the playa, he describedthe experience of his party in thesewords: "The cloudless sun pouredsuch a blaze upon it, that by thescorching of our feet, it might haveseemed almost hot enough to roasteggs in." After a bitter three dayswithout water, the Pattie party finallyreached a canyon with a runningstream, and eventually arrived on thecoast.When the sulphur mine road swungnorth to the old mining camp we con-tinued west across the level playa,making our own trail. Several canyonscould be seen slashing into the desertslope of the Sierra Juarez ahead ofus, and we believed one of these to beSanta Ysabel. But we never reachedit . Climbing the gentle slope of the ba-jada on the west side of Laguna Saladawe came upon a road running south,at right angles to our course. Al-though Aries and I have been in this

area many times, we were not familiarwith this road, and we were curiousas to its purp ose. It was just a wind-ing pair of ruts across a gravel slope,but it evidently had been used in re-cent months, and we turned south tosee where it would take us.We followed that road 30 miles ina southerly course, with the Tinajarange on our left and the Sierra Juarezon our right. Then it swung into acanyon in the Sierra, and as we turneda bend our road came to an abruptend before a rather spacious mud andthatch house beside a spring, with

twin palms growing by the water.There were women and children,goats, dogs and chickens in the door-yardand beside a gnarled hitchingpost a man was saddling his pony.Aries spoke to him in Spanish. Hereplied, hesitantly at first, and for alittle while we were not sure we werewelcome visitors at this remote oasis.But Aries and Bill, both of whomspeak the language of Mexico, assuredhim we carried no firearms and thatour mission was friendly.Ramon Arvallo was his name. He

told us he was a brother of Juan Ar-vallo, chief of the little remnant of

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Catarina Yuma Indians who still dwellon the other side of the range at thesite of the old Dominican mission ofSanta Catarina de los Yumas.These Indians are known today asthe Catarina Yumas, but they callthemselves the Pai-Pai. Arthur W.North and other early day explorersin Baja California reported that theywere hostile and thievish. This ap-praisal is borne out by historical rec-ords of the old missions which revealthat Santa Catarina was the last ofthe missions founded by the Domini-can Frailes. Built in 1797, the 1500Indians in the mission parish werenever peaceful. After frequent revoltsthey finally killed or drove away thelast of the padres in 1840 and burnedthe mission. It was never rebuilt.During our two days with these In-dians we learned that there are onlyabout 100 of the Pai-Pai today, andthat 20 of them, in two families, areliving in this canyon, which we lateridentified as Arroyo Agua Caliente.

Ramon said their main camp was5!/i miles further up the canyon. When

Aries asked him if we might go therehe was evasive. Our impression at firstwas that we would not be welcome.After some palaver, however, Ramon,who was the headman of this canyonsegment of the Pai-Pais, gave his con-sent, but added that he did not thinkour cars could make it.But he had under-estimated theprowess of the jeep. It was a sandyrock-strewn trail, overgrown in many

places with brush. But we did mak eit, although at times it took carefuldriving to thread our way through thegreat patches of agave that grew onthe floor of the arro yo. No tire willresist the needle points of those agaveblades.Soon after we left camp Ramon, onhis pony, caught up with us and dis-pelled any doubts as to his goodwillby riding ahead and picking the bestroute for our cars. Later one of theIndians at the upper camp told us wewere the first party of white men tovisit them during his 30 years of resi-dence in the canyon.As we bucked the rocks and sand

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and underbrush going up the arroyothere were little groups of native palmtrees along the tiny stream of water.On the slopes above the creek weremore wildflowcr blossoms than I haveseen anywhere on the desert this sea-son. Hedgehog cactus displayed clus-ters of silky cerise petalsone of theprettiest blossoms on the desert. Therewere many colorsthe bright red ofocotillo, the reddish brown of a pricklypear species, the ghostly lemon yellowof bisnaga, and the pink of fairy duster,a lovely perennial found in Alta Cali-fornia only in the arroyos north ofOgilby in Imperial county.Eventually we came to an impass-able barrier of rocks and there wemade camp for the nighta half miledownstream from the Indian village.Our first thought was to establishfriendly relations with the Indians inthis camp, and with Ramon as ourguide we hiked along the creek to themud and stone buildings near thewarm spring which gives Agua Calientearroyo its name.

There, from Ramon and from hissister Benita, a very superior type ofmiddle-aged Indian woman we weretold much about the life of this littleband of Catarina Yumas.Loafing in the shade of the palmsthat grew beside the spring, and inlater conversations when the Indianscame to our camp, we learned thatthe teaching of the martyred padresof Santa Catarina mission more than

a hundred years ago was still bearingfruit. Although a majority of theseIndians have never been in a church,they regard themselves as Christians,and Benita was wearing a rosary.They have a little cash income fromtwo sources. During the cotton har-vest in Mexicali valley the youngermembers of the tribe ride 80 miles onhorseback and spend two or threemonths picking cotton. Also, they runcattle on the desert range, and drivea few steers over the trail to Ensenada60 miles away on the Pacific coast.Their pack animals come back ladenwith flour, beans, clothing and a fewother essentials.Much of their food comes from thedesert landscape. They gather chiaAbove Arroyo Agua Caliente isaccessible only to jeeps.Middle Lower camp of the Pai-Pai Indians. They call this R anchoPalmitos and get their water froma spring beside the two palm trees.Below This is Agua Calientespring, from which the canyongets its name. The upp er Indiancamp is 100 yards away.



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seed in May, and in August they goto higher elevations for pinyon nuts.There is fresh meat or jerky from theirown herd. In April when the agaveis in bud they have roast mescal, andalso eat the flower stalks which havethe sweetness and about the sametexture as sugar cane. Tuna from theprickly pear which grows luxuriantlybelow the spring is another item offood. They mentioned certain rootsand two or three other species of wildseed with which I am not familiar.

Below the spring is a fenced orchardof figs and pomegranates, no doubtgrown from cuttings brought to themission of Santa Catarina 150 yearsago by the padres.At Hector Borquez' home AriesAdams discovered an antiquated rifle,no longer usable, but a prize item forAries ' collection of old firearms, andafter much barter he got the weaponin exchange for a woolen shirt he waswearing and a few pesos.Bill Sherrill took a fancy to a beau-tifully braided cowhide reata andbought it for the equivalent of $2.50.Here was an opportunity for me tolearn the art of roasting mescalandI made the most of it. Just before sun-down I went out and found a youngbud about two feet high. It resembleda huge stalk of asparagus, growing inthe center of a roseate of dagger-likeblades. The Indians in the olden dayswould gouge the bud out of the centerof the plant with a sharp stick. Th esharp stick was a fine idea for Indianswho had no other tools, but I soondecided a machete we carried in oneof the jeeps would be more effectiveand it was. The Indians liked theidea too. While they were separatingthe bud stalk from its cluster of arm-ored blades I began digging the pit.When my pit was two feet wideand 18 inches deep I laid down theshovel. Hector promptly picked it upand when he had finished it was 2V zfeet deep and three feet across. I waslearning.

Then, at the direction of Ramonwe all started bringing in small bould-ers and firewood, while he lined thehole with rocks. A huge fire was

Above Upper camp of the Pai-Pai Indians. They said no whiteman had visited them here for 30years. The women put on theirbest clothes for this photograph.Middle Aries Adams, To ny, andBill Sherrill sample the mescalwhich was roasted overnight. Ittastes like sweet potatoes.Below This mound is the mescalroast as it remained covered overamong the hot rocks for 14 hours.

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Young est mem ber of the tribe is A lejandrina Castro this picture taken inthe doorway of her mud and stone home.lighted in the pit. After it had burneddown to a bed of red-hot embers hetossed the mescalabout the shapeand twice as big as a pineappleintothe center of it. More hot rocks werepushed in around the mescal, andthen a foot of dirt was spread overthe top.

Scene two of the mescal roastingparty was at nine o'clock next morn-ing when the Indians came down fromtheir camp to help us uncover the pit.The entire tribe was there. After muchdirt and many rocks had been re-moved we found the charred "pine-apple" shrunken to about half itsoriginal size.

The Indians pulled off the charredhusks much as one would go about

eating artichokes. The meaty core inthe center was split open with a hunt-ing knife and it was a deliciouslooking morsel, about the shade ofthe meat in a ripe cantaloupe.Hector told us it would have beenbetter if we had left it in the pit afew hours longer. Then the centerwould be about the color and consist-ency of a southern cooked yam sweet and gooey.More than anything else it tastedlike sweet potato, and the cooking jobcould not have been too bad, for afterwe visitors had each eaten a slice the

Indian women finished it with relish.I much prefer it to artichokes.There were palms growing far upon the mountainside a mile above the

Indian camp, and when we expresseda desire to visit them Ramon volun-teered to go along as guide. He tookus along a fairly good trail that fol-lowed an arroyo. Once he called ourattention to a group of petroglyphs onthe face of a huge boulder near thetrail.Ramon knew the Indian or Spanishnames for all the wild shrubs on thehillside. Once when I pointed out alittle plant with a pungent odor hereplied that it was hediondilla. Thatwas a surprise, for I had always heardthe Mexicans refer to creosote bushas hediondilla. Aries explained thatthe word merely means "little stinker"and is applied by the Mexicans to anyshrub which has an unpleasant smell.The palms at the upper level ap-peared to be both the filifera an d ro-busta species of Washingtonia, al -though I had not previously knownthat the robusta grew native in BajaCalifornia.From the higher elevation we couldsee many tributary canyons cominginto Arroyo Agua Caliente, with palmsin practically all of them.By noon we were back at camp,resting on the grassy bank of thelittle pon d formed by the spring. Th ewater comes out of the spring onlylukewarm, and when a breeze is blow-ing, the surface of the pool is coolenough for drinkingand it was goodwater.It would have been pleasant to havespent several days with these hospit-able descendants of the once warlikePai-Pai. But since the Indian villagehad not been on our original itinerarywe had not allowed time for such avisit. They were quite willing to havetheir pictures taken, and we gave themsimple gifts, mostly food, and departedwith their goodwill, I believe.On the return trip to Mexicali wefollowed a road the length of LagunaSalada to its junction at the base ofMt. Signal with the newly paved Mexi-cali-Tijuana highway. I was told thatthis road is completed except the gradethat climbs to the top of the SierraJuarez range. This new grade, whenfinished, will be much better, and willeliminate the hairpin turns of the oldroad which former Governor Cantubuilt here 40 years ago.I had expected to be writing thisstory about palm treesbut I am gladwe came upon the old trail which ledus to the camp of the Pai-Pai Indians.For after all, the most interestingthings on the desert are the peoplewho live on itand despite the evilreputation of their ancestors they aretoday a stalwart little band of friendlytribesmen whose kindness to us willremain a pleasant memory.



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While some of the incidentsoi this lost gold story have beendram atizedit is not fiction. Innorthern New Mexico and south-ern Colorado the legend of theburied gold in the upper SanAnimas River valley persiststoday, and many of the olderSpanish-American residents ofthat region believe that someday the golden treasure buriedby Pierre and his companionsin the ill-fated expedition will beuncovered.

LostLomaGold

By KARL HUDSONIllustration by John Hansen

7E SUN shone warm on thesouth wall of the flat-roofedadobe house. Flies buzzed ten-tatively around the door. Across theplacita a robin sat in the alamo andin the field below was the first springsong of the meadowlark."I tell you it is there, senors, enoughfor all of us. A wide vein rich enoughin gold to work with the arras tre. Afew weeks and we will live like kings."Pierre was speaking. All winter hehad lived in the little village in whatis now New Mexico. From the farnorthern country of Canada he hadtrapped the beaver down through theRockies, sold his fur in Santa Fe andhad one grand fling. Without a pesohe had left the capitol city to spendthe winter in this hospitable countryvillage."Had it not been so late in the sea-son I would have taken out enough togive me the life of a rico. Think of it!A wide vein of ore like this."For the hundredth time the piece ofquartz, held together with veinlets andmasses of pure yellow gold, was passedfrom hand to hand.Juan Sanchez walked to the end ofthe 'dobe and looked north. A view

R iding o n to the northern edge of the mesa Pierre suddenly whirled androde back, holding up his hand for caution.of cold snow-capped mountains methis eye. Spring had not yet come upthere. "You say there are Indians?"he asked nervously."Ciertamente, t he re a r e I n d ia n severywhere, but have I not traveledover 2000 miles among them? Indianshold no terrors for Pierre. V/here isthe blood of your ancestors? Was thiscountry settled by old women?"Many years had passed since theConquest, however the lure of goldwas still there. Hundreds of Spanishsoldiers-of-fortune had settled thecountry, always dreaming of tales ofriches greater than those of Monte-zuma. Perhaps the tide of conquesthad halted to enjoy a way of lifemoulded from the customs of the In-dians and the Spanish in the villages.Life was not bad in these sunny val-leys but the tales of treasure neverfailed to awake the love of adventure."We are the sons of our fathers,"said Juan.Mamacita listened quietly inside thedoor. Stoic Indian by inheritance shesaid nothing. Hers would be the mis-ery of a life alone if plans failed. How-

ever she was of part Spanish blood andcould not but feel the desire for gold.Perhaps they could go to the greatcity of Santa Fe where gold wouldmake them one of the ricos. Perhapsshe would have many servants, thefine shawls from Manila and she couldwear nice shoes while she bought theirfood at the mark et. Perha ps theywould even have a carriage drawn byfour prancing horses. Yes, it wouldbe well to try.A cloud of dust hung over the pla-cita. Galloping horsemen could beseen rounding up more horses for packanimals to carry provisions for manyweeks. Yes, and to carry back thegreat wealth of gold! Packs werelashed on securely as no time couldbe lost repacking bronco pack animals.In all, 28 horsemen and 30 pack ani-mals made up the string. Only theold men, women and children wereleft to till the fields surrounding theplacita. If this plan failed next winterwould be very hard . If hostile Indian sattacked the village little hope couldbe had.Out through the sage flats spotted

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with pinyon and cedar went the cara-van. Clouds of dust were raised byrecalcitrant pack animals but Spanishblood makes great horsemen. No timewas lost. Pierre led the way on a finegray horse, descendant of the Arabiansof the Conquis tado rs. Superblymounted even though somewhat rag-ged the group presented an appearancecalculated to discourage any attack byhostile Indians. Arms were consid-ered more essential than clothing.

Skirting the San Juan Mountainsthrough desert country was easy, butthe sage and pinyon gradually disap-peared in some areas and great forestsof yellow pine bordered the trail. Gamewas plentiful here and with manymountain streams for water, camp lifewas easy and pleasant.After many days travel and thecrossing of a number of rivers whichbroke onto the desert from the moun-tains through sheer canyon walls, Pi-

erre at last stopped on a low sagecovered mesa which jutted out fromthe wall of a wide valley throughwhich a sizeable river ran."This is the stream," he said. "Twomore days ride and we will dig forgold." Riding on to the northern edgeof the mesa Pierre suddenly whirledand rode back, holding up his handfor caution.Leading Juan to a clump of treesat the edge of the mesa they lookedout over the valley carpeted with pine.Up through the forest wavered num-

erous wisps of smoke."Indians!" said Juan."Many of them," replied Pierre."We will have to take to the ridges.""But Pierre, there is snow and manycross canyons," said Juan."True, but snow and cross canyonsare better than Indians," replied Pierre.For three days the caravan rode upridges and around cross canyons,through snow on the northern slopesand through heavy spruce forest untilat last Pierre brought them down aridge to the deep canyon of the river.

On a wide bench covered with grasswhich ran along the river for somedistance he stopped."This will be our camp," he said.After a wild rush to unpack andhobble the horses Pierre led the menup a narrow canyon above the campand there it was! A quartz vein inter-sected the canyon walls and even with-out digging, gold could be seen in thequartz.Jubilantly the men made a perman-ent camp. They soon had built anarrastre near the river and were min-ing and packing rich gold ore downto it. The vein narrowed and widenedas gold veins have a habit of doingbut daily more gold was added to thestore.- Game was plentiful, life was

easy and the days dragged into months.Occasionally men appeared seriousand thoughtful. There were Indiansin the valley below them they knew.* * *On a bench of meadow above whatis now called the Upper Animas RiverValley was the camp of a Ute Chief."You say the white men have goneinto the deep canyon. What do theydo there?" he asked his scouts."They dig the yellow metal," wasthe reply.The Chief pondered. He had beentold that many years ago white menhad come into the valleys to the southlooking for gold, that they found littlegold but stayed, some to plunder theIndian villages, to steal their womenand to drive the men from their ances-tral homes during cold win:er months.They had taken the fertile valleys andhad killed the game. These Indiansto the south were not friends of the

Utes, but what had happened to themcould also happen to him and hispeople, the Chief well knew."The white men shall net leave thisvalley," he said.* * *A sudden heavy snow storm on theridges above them warned the minersthat winter had come to the moun-tains. It also made the route by whichthey had come into the canyon im-passable. They would be forced totravel down the valley before wintercaught them in the icy grasp of certaindeath. Hurriedly they packed theiranimals and started down the canyon.One afternoon they arrived at a pointwhere they could see the wide valleybelow. No smoke nor an Indian couldbe seen. Pierre shook his head. Helooked at the sheer cliffs at the headof the valley. Only down the river didthe way appear clear.Down past hot springs bubbling fromthe hillside below red cliffs came thecaravan to a small hill. Late afternoonovertook them and they made camp onthe hill which was at that time sur-rounded by the yellow pine forest. Ameadow could be seen toward theriver in which wranglers hobbled thehorses.With the clearing of a light moun-tain fog after dawn the next morningnot a horse could be seen. They werenever seen again. Five of the menwent to look for them but did notreturn. Pierre and the others knewthe answer. Utes!With no water on the hill the menknew that they must leave it soon.They made a large hole and rolledthe buckskin sacks of gold into itcovering it first with dirt and then pineneedles and brush. Taking what pro-visions they could carry the men sep-arated and set out. Pierre and Juanwent together and after many hard-

ships and narrow escapes finallyreached the placita. Not one of theothers was ever seen again.During the year 1899 a Spanish-American, Pedro Giron, knew "Pierre"at a New Mexico village. Pedro wasthen a young man. The French-Can-adian was at that time old and broken.He had never fully recovered from thehardships of this trip back from theexpedition. He had never returned tothe valley in which the gold was bur-ied. All desire for adventure was gone.He gave Pedro all the details of theexpedition, of the route taken and oflandmarks along the way and in thevalley in which the gold was buried.The trip had occurred many yearsbefore when he was a young man, buthe described the hill on which theyhad buried the gold, the hot springsand the red cliffs in detail. He statedthat most of the 30 pack animals wereloaded with gold. He also stated thatsome of the gold was in "rough lumpsas large as the hand," presumablyrough lumps of highgrade gold ore.

Pedro was sure that the AnimasRiver valley of Southwestern Coloradowas the place. There are no othercombinations of wide valley, hotsprings, red cliffs and the other land-marks in the area. He also believedthat he had found indications of thecamp and arrastre in the canyon above.Snow and rock slides may have cov-ered the mine with debris. Indiansmay have done some camouflage workon it and the small hill on which thegold was buried. A narrow gauge rail-road was built up the canyon duringthe late 1800s. This may have erasedmany indications of the arrastre andcamp.Pedro Giron is now dead, killed ina car accident. He had confided in thewriter of his dreams of locating thegold or the mine from which it cameand gave me the details of the expedi-tion. Pedro was an industrious personand had worked his way up to sectionforeman on the narrow gauge railroad

which runs through the area in whichhe believed the gold was located. Hespent much time fishing in the sup-posed locality of the mine. He be-lieved the story his old friend had toldhim and thought that the old man wastrying to help him.There are many local versions of anill-fated Spanish expedition into theSan Juan area and of its buried treas-ure. Perhaps Pedro Giron was thelast living person who had talked toa member of the expedition. Someof the details died with him.Local history does not tell of thediscovery of the cache of gold or ofthe mine from which it came. Perhapssome daywell, perhaps there is alittle gold-lust in all of us.

14 DESERT M AGA ZI NE


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. . .

Author's car crossing the playa of Black R ock Desert in northwestern Nevada.

On Black Rock Desert TrailsWhen Dora Tucker and Nell Murbarger first began exploring theBlack Rock country in northwestern Nevada they did not realize whata high, wide a nd wild country it w as. On the Black Rock a hundredmiles doesn't mean a thing. In the 10,000 square miles of this desertwasteland there isn't a foot of pavement nor a mile of railroadneither gas olin e station nor postoffice. Antelo pes out-number hu man

beings fifty to one. There's plenty of room here for exploring.By NELL MURBARGERPhotographs by the au thorMap by Norton AllenS AN illustration of what theBlack Rock country affordsin the way of variety and con-trast, w e mad e a J 50-mile lo op tripout of Gerlach last June. Our previousexploring of the region had been mostlyin the northern and eastern sections,so we hadn't the slightest idea of whatwe might find in the southern part.

We knew there was a ghost townLeadville approximately 50 milesnorth of Gerlach, and we'd heardrumors of a petrified forest somewherein the vague beyond. Otherwise, itwas anyone's guess.When I had finished gassing thecar and filling our two five-gallonwater cans at the Gerlach service sta-tion and Dora had replenished thegrub box at the little grocery store andpostoffice across the street, I asked thestation operator if he thought we couldmake it through to Leadville.Running a critical eye over our dust-covered car and clothing, the old mannodded. "Reckon so. But I ' ll bedamned if I know why you should

want to! Ain't nothin' there!"Thanking him, we accepted his re-port as a favorable omen and headedout into the desert. Almost invariablywe find our best prowling in placeswhere folks have told us there "ain'tnothin ' ."Rising precipitously from the deadwhite fiat where the gypsum-miningtown of Gerlach swelters in the sum-mer sun, the Granite range lifts itsrocky brown crest to a height of nearly9000 feet. As our road skirted theeastern base of this gaunt escarpment,we ranged our eyes up one rough can-yon and down another, searching fora single green tree, one sign of wateror one evidence of human life. Non ewas visible.To our right lay a land equallyaustere but arranged on a horizontalplane, rather than vertical. Beyondthe narrow tangle of greasewood thatfringed our road spread all the sweep-ing immensity of the Black Rock des-ert.While all this northwestern region

is known as "the Black Rock country,"the desert from which it derives itsname actually is a stark white alkaliplaya, averaging a dozen miles inwidth and stretching for 100 milesfrom G erlach to Kings River. Mergingimperceptibly with the Black Rock onthe southwest is the section known asSmoke Creek desert, inclusion of whichextends the overall length of unbrokenplaya by at least one-third.Sixteen hundred square miles ofbare , dead nothingness; a silent voidwhere no flowers bloom and no birdssing; a million flat acres producingscarcely enough vegetation to sustaina jackra bbit. Such is the Black Rockdesertone of Earth's most spectacu-lar monuments to a vanished way oflife which had its beginning in theGlacial Age of many thousand yearsago.As changing climatic conditions grad-ually brought about melting of the icecap which blanketed most of temper-ate North America, run-off waters col-lected to form lakes. In the region

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TO VYA (NO SUPPLIES) .= " ' - ~=\ * '^ J> yC , . , ~ .-

, ,;., v- ->,

V1"~peinf,ed ^Qr^% ^ V :

1 ^ v ^ >

GERLACH ..-^r." - : > \

which is now Nevada, the largest ofthese bodies is that known to geolo-gists as Lake La hon tan. From a pointconsiderably south of present-day Car-son C it y, on e a rm of L ah o n t a nstretched north along the present lineof the Black Rock desert and up OuinnRiver valley to the Oregon line, or atrifle beyond. Another arm spreadwest to the vicinity of Susanville, Cali-forniagiving the lake a total surfacearea of roughly 8400 square miles.From what science tells us, LakeLahontan must have been a pleasantplace. Its clear, cold waters teamedwith fish of man y varieties. Preh istoricIndians camped on its shores, casttheir spears at humpless camels, luredducks with feathered decoys, and im-planted their strange picture writingson cliff faces. Giant ground slothslumbered along the shoreline, brows-ing on low-growing shrubs and leavingtheir paw prints in the soft ooze where

- \ . "TOMOPAH

\ us ,

delighted paleontologists would dis-cover them eons later.Naturally, the melting glaciers couldnot last forever. When their watersno longer cascaded down the moun-tainsides, Nevada's climate grew arid;and with evaporation exceeding inflow,Lahontan began her long march intooblivion. In the first recession ofwater from her shallower fringes, theBlack Rock desert emerged.

Pausing on the powdery shore ofthat ancient lakebed, we looked acrossits somnolent breadth to the blueline of the Kamma Mountains, 20miles to the east. Black py ramid s ofvolcanic rockthe "black rocks" forwhich the place is namedhere andthere broke the stark surface of thedry sea like the dorsal fins of giantsharks, while shimmering heat wavesgave to the expanse an illusion ofbillowing swells. As heat increasedwith advancing summer, this place

would become a virtual cradle of mir-ages. Even at this time, in early Ju ne ,we soon had spotted three. Two ap-peared as islands surrounded by cool,blue, lapping water; the third involveda row of green trees and a meadowwhere we knew that no green bladeexisted.Fanning out over the lakebed wasa network of roads; this million-acreplaya in dry weather being one vastrace course, so hard and smooth thata car may be driven anywhere on itssurface at high speed. Wet weathertransforms the same area into a morassas slick as grease and completely im-passable. A few small wind twisters,or "sand augurs," as the natives callthemwere spiraling lazily over thisflat. Otherwise there was no visiblemotion.We had been on the road since sixo'clock that morning and even whenwe left Gerlach were already in themood for lunch. As our road veeredaway from the lakebed to head northinto the desert hills, we spotted aclump of trees a little way off to theright. Except for the mirage, thesewere the first trees we had seen sinceleaving Gerlach, and, so far as weknew, might be the last before ourreturn there. It seemed a logical placeto eat.To our surprise they proved to beRussian olives, and apparently werevery old. Their gray-leafed boughswere tipped in the gold of a milliontiny trumpet flowers whose headyfragrance came to us in the car evenbefore I had stopped the engine. Apair of robins had a nest in one ofthe upper boughs and in another ofthe half-dozen trees, a mourning dovewas giving voice to his plaintive call.While no remnant of house or out-buildings remained, it was evidentthere once had been located here anestablishment of considerable size,possibly a ranc h or stage station. Thecharred truck of a burned freight

wagon lay a few yards distant andscattered over the hard-packed earthbeneath the trees were chips of ancientharness leather, a few square cut ironnails, and enough sun-purpled glassfragments to fill a water bucket. Manyof the pieces were tinted so dark theyappeared nearly black.Dora, who has been my desertprowling partner for 25 of her 70years, is at heart a rockhoundbutwhen eligible rocks are not available,she turns an equally covetous eyetowa rd In dian and p ioneer relics

everything from prehistoric pottery tobattered bullwhips. The result is anunsurpassed zest for living and anoverflowing house, porch and garagefull of trophies at her home in Las16 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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Baffled by a chunk of petrified wood too big to cany home, Dora Tucker sits onthe fossilized trunk of the fallen giant and contemplates the number of cabochonswhich m ight be cut from one section of the three-part trunk.Vegas. Naturally, the possibilities ofthis place held tremendous fascinationfor her.

Even before we had removed themess box from the car she was steal-ing calculating glances at our surround-ings, and as quickly as she could as-semble a Dagwood sandwich she wasoff prowling the old building site, eat-ing as she searched.If I remember correctly, the stopnetted her a slightly delapidated hash-knife and the major portion of anox-shoe.Soon after leaving the old oasis ofthe olives we saw a strange appear-ing, cone-shaped formation about ahalf-mile to the northeast. Similar inform to the brick charcoal ovens oc-casionally encountered in old miningcamps, the cone seemed to be emittingjets of smoke or steam.J U L Y , 1 9 5 1

We could see that the formationwas of thermal nature, but not untilwe had waded through the marshyarea to its base could we realize themagnitude of it, or the magnificenceof its coloring. Composed of layersof lime and silica deposited by thehot, mineral-impregnated waters whichcoursed down its sides, the cone hadthe soft, rippled texture of rich velvetand ranged through all the shadesfrom deepest maroon and brilliantorange to dappled fawn and pale ivory.Spouting from invisible fissures inthe apex of the cone, five streams ofhot water played constantly in the air.Shooting fountain-like above the rocka height of five or six feet, their boil-ing spray cascaded over the rock andits terrace according to the vagariesof the wind.While the place had every aspect of

a natural formation thousands of yearsold, we learned later that this is Ne-vada's youngest geologic wonder. Whena local stockman drilled a well in 1919,he brought in this untamable hot gey-ser instead of the cold water he hadanticip ated. Useless for stock pur-poses because of the high mineral con-tent of the water, the outlaw well wasleft to flow and in 30 years has builtup this amazing landmark!We were enjoying a lazy sort ofdiscussion on the unfailing democracyof the desert waterhole, where a manand his horse and the little creaturesof the wild will drink fearlessly, sideby side, when two buck antelopes,which had been drinking at the farend of the dam, bounded off throughthe sage, their white rump flags flash-ing against the sombre landscape.Gaining the summit of a low ridge

17


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The author cooking a supper snack over a sagebrush fire in a land wherethere is no other firewood.they came to a halt and abruptly back-faced for a last look at us, then movedon over the ridge and out of sight.The road was surprisingly good.Occasional stretches were a little cor-rugated and in certain sections it wassomewhat dusty. These, however, areminor faults compared to wrackingchucks, jagged rocks and high centers.Of these evils it was completely free.We had been keeping sharp watchfor a side trail which might take us tothe old mining camp of Leadville, situ-ated high on the east flank of Mt. Fox,in the Granite range. When Doraspotted the yellow splash of minedumps and a few unpainted buildingsat the head of a steep ravine, a mileor so to the left of our road, we feltcertain this was the place we sought.Turning the car into the first sideroad leading in that direction, weheaded up a rough canyon which grew

rockier and steeper as it climbed therange. Few stretches of the trail, ifany, were wide enough to permit pass-ing but this wasn't too important sinceno one else appeared to be using it.In many places the wheel tracks werebadly guttered by winter storms andsome careful maneuvering was neces-sary to avoid high centers.As the garageman in Gerlach hadforewarned us, there was virtuallynothing left of the old camp. Severallarge mine dumps, a few pirospectingholes, half a dozen tar-papered shacks,a tunnel, some old mine bucketsthat was about all.Unlike most of Nevada's historicmining camps, little glamour is at-tached to Leadville's name, her youth-ful days having been marked by morehard work than hard liquor. Originaldevelopment work was carried outhere in 1909 with production begin-

ning the following year. While theore showed good values in lead andsilver, with minor content of zinc andgold, production costs were high andthe effort failed to pay out financially.In 1927, after more or less regularproduction for 17 years, all operationsceased and the camp folded. The reare those who believe that plenty ofgood silver ore still remains in themine, which, they declare, "was gettingbetter with depth."Assisted by low gear and four-wheelbrakes we eased back down the ra-vine and again took up our northwardcourse.Another seven miles and we arrivedin a forest of petrified stumps! Thefirst we glimpseda handsome speci-men which stood close to the road onthe leftwas nearly six feet in diam-eter and broken into three neat crosssections, stacked one atop the other.A well-preserved length of the maintrunk lay where it had fallen at thestump's base. Soft buff to goldenbrown in color, the wood was beauti-fully grained with black concentriclines and appeared to be of fine gemquality.Dora, the relic hunter and botanist,speedily reverted to Dora, the rock-hound. By the time I had my cameraand equipment out of the car, she andher rock sack and pick were disappear-ing over a ridge 200 yards distant.Browsing along the slope, up onegully and down another, we found theremains of many trees, some of themrather badly disintegrated, others splen-didly preserved . Well up on the steephillside, where it could overlook itslesser contemporaries as well as a widedesert valley beyond, we found a gi-gantic stump"The Monarch" of theBlack Rock.It was a magnificent specimen. Inheight it range d from 15 feet on thelower side (where the hill dipped downsharply) to six feet on the upper side.Its diameter still is open to question.Using a steel tape I measured thestump as accurately as possible underthe difficult circumstances of its growth.I felt I was being conservative in fig-uring its circumference at 45 feetanaverage diameter of roughly 15 feet.Since returning home, however, Ihave read that the world's largestknown petrified tree is in Big BendNational Park in Texas, and that itmeasures 14 feet at its greatest dia-meter.Whether our Monarch of the BlackRock sets a new world's record, orwhether my measurement was in error,is something we eventually hope tolearn.After a night's sleep under the starsand a good breakfast cooked on acampfire of sagebrush the largest



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living growth in this strange landwhere 15-foot trees once flourishedwe sorted our rock specimens, oblit-erated all evidence of our camp, andheaded back down the wash.For half a dozen miles north of theforest, our way led through a densestand of sage, climbing and descendinga series of rolling hills and gullies.

Some of the draws were alive withjackrabbits and once a fat sagehenstalked across the road in front of us.There were no fences, no houses, nosign of man's presence. Somehow, oneknew instinctively that this wild desertland surrounding us had not changedin the slightest degree since JohnCharles Fremont dragged his littlehowitzer through here more than acentury ago.Riding over these same hills in 1846possibly down the very defile throughwhich we were travelingCapt. Jesse

Applegate and two companions hadpioneered the famous Applegate Cut-off to Oregon, a route which was tobe followed by scores of bearded emi-grants toiling Westward in pursuit ofa dream.One of Applegate's mena scoutnamed Garrisonhad been slain byIndians in High Rock Canyon, onlya short distance to the east of our road;and Levi Scott, third man of the party,had been seriously wounded in theattack. This was no isolated instance.For 50 years Black Rock had beenknown as bad Indian country.While on a prospecting trip to thewestern edge of the Black Rock desertin 1850, the veteran frontiersman,Peter Lassen, and a companion, like-wise were slain by Indians in this samevicinity. As we angled through therimrock gash of Little High Rock, atributary of the main canyon, wegained a vicarious thrill from theknowledge that near i ts mouthpos-sibly five miles from our roadthelast Indian massacre in the UnitedStates had occurred in January, 1911.Three sheepmen and a cattleman of

Surprise Valley, in California, hadbeen attacked and murdered by rene-gade Indians as they rode throughLittle High Rock en route to theirstock camps on the edge of the BlackRock. Spurred by the natural lust forvengence, plus huge rewards offeredby the men's families sheriff's posse-men and aroused citizens had pursuedthe offending tribesmen until everymember of the band, with exception ofa young squaw and her baby, hadbeen overtaken and slain.We were approaching the broadswale of Long Valley and were unde-cided whether to go on to Vya or turnback to Gerlach. The problem wasneatly solved when we came suddenly

Boiling mineral waters, charged with lime, silica and other elements, have in30 years built this huge geyser cone. Its colors range from deep maroon tovivid green and jet.upon an unexpected trail branchingto our left. Pointing dow n it was asmall faded sign which read "LostCreek Canyon."The road was narrow and crookedand so seldom used that desert weedshad grown up between the wheel

tracks and sagebrush raked our caron either side. It was a friendly littleroad, however; one that bounded overhills and hummocks like a rollercoaster and eventually led us to thetop of a broad, flat tableland.Throughout the morning we hadJ U L Y , 1 9 5 1 1.9


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Only waste dumps, an abandoned tunnel, a few miner's shacks and oldiron buckets mark the site of Leadville, Nevada ghost town.been noting scattered pieces of ob-sidian, but upon gaining this high mesatop, we found the surface of the groundliterally paved with cobbles of jetblack volcanic glass. Roundish inshape and unusually pure in composi-tion, the globules were oddly uniformin size, averaging perhaps a poundeach in weight. For mile after milethis strange black paving flanked ourroad on either side, the sun glintingfrom broken shards of the glass asfrom a million faceted diamonds.As we topped a low rise, Dorapointed to a small, natural clearingalong the road where half a dozenpronghorns were taking their ease inthe morning sun. For a single, startledinstant, every head was turned ourway; and then they had whirled andwere gone, bounding lightly over thesage like giant jac kra bbi ts. In thenext five miles we encountered other

antelopes; a pair here, a lone buckthere, or a solitary doe. While notinclined to stand idly by until theymight be photographed, they seldomran far before turning back to regardus curiously.We had been traversing the mesafor perhaps an hour when we cameto a ravine and eventually were sur-prised to find a tiny, clear stream bub-bling over the rocks alongside ourroad. We knew then that this mustbe Lost Creek Canyon.Half a mile farther and rounding abend, we caught our breath in incredu-lous wonder. The sloping sides ofthe ravine suddenly had narrowed tored rock cliffs which rose sheer oneither side. Filling the canyon's bot-tom, from wall to wall, was a groveof tall quaking aspen, as beautiful asany we had ever seen in the high moun-tains.

In the broken rubble at the base ofthe cliffs, choke-cherry bushes werehanging white with their fragrantblooms, and great thickets of wild pinkroses were just beginning to breakinto flower.Stopping beneath the giant trees wereplenished our water tanks from thecold little stream, and on sudden im-pulse decided to lay over here for acouple of hours so that we might cookand eat lunch in this pleasant andwholly unexpected oasis.We still didn't know where our littlelost road might lead, but if it contin-ued in the direction we had beentraveling for the last 20 miles, we knewthat it must eventually intersect Ne-vada 8 1, the graded road betweenGerlach and Eagleville, California. Onthat chance we voted to continue foranother ten miles. If, in that distance,the road reached an unforeseen endor otherwise became impassable, we

still would have adequate gasoline totake us back the way we had come.It was this decision which added tothe trip's other experiencesa jasperbed and an Indian campsite.Dora, who has an eye like a preda-tory eagle, first spotted the jasper fromthe moving car, but not until we beganranging over the field did we find thatIndians, too, had known of this de-posit and extensively used it.Everywhere on the ground therewere flakings of flint, jasper, chalce-dony and obsidian, and in less than

an hour we had gathered our pocketsfull of chipping stones, crude scrapers,and a few pieces which might conceiv-ably have served as spear heads. Allthe work was poor and most of it ap-peared unfinished, causing us to believethat these might have been pieces ofstone which failed to chip satisfactorilyand were discarded before completion.A portion of broken arrowhead foundat the same place showed fine work-manship.Some of the jasper was of goodquality with nice coloring and before

we left, Dora had cached severalpounds of it in various nooks aboutthe car.About a mile beyond this point, ouradventurous little trail unexpectedlymerged with Nevada 81, and with atug of regret we turned left towardGerlach, 50 miles to the southeast.As we entered the fringes of town, Iasked Dora if she realized that in twodays of exploring and 150 miles oftravel we had not seen a single auto-mobile or one human being.She nodded. "I was thinking the

same thing," she said. "I was think-ing what a wonderful thing it is thatthere are a few places on earth wherethat is still possible." 20 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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PICTURES OF THE MONTHMITTEN BUTTS .. .First prize in Desert Magazine's Pictures-of-the-Month contest in May went to Don Ollis of SantaBarbarathis beautifully framed picture was takenin Monument Valley, Utah. Photograph was takenwith a 4x5 Speed Graphic with 8-inch Ektar lens.Super XXfilm, Orange (G) filter, 1/5 second at f.45.

ANDY THE DONKEY MAN. . .John R. Hamilton of Los Angeles was winner ofsecond award with the accompanying picture ofone of the well known characters along Highway111 nea r Palm Springs. Photograp h was taken atthree in the afternoon with a Rolleiflex, Super XXfilm, 1/100 second at f.ll. Yellow filter was used.


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mSalt Lake City, Utah . . .The idle blast furnace at Ironton,Utah county, hasbeen leased by Ge-neva Steel company from Kaiser-Frazer Parts corporation and will beplaced in operation immediately, Dr.Walther Mathesius, Geneva president,has announced. Heestimated it wouldrequire 40days to get thefurnace intoproduction andwould take 250 addi-tional employees to operate andmain-tain. The lease is for a period of threeyears, renewable for an additionaltwoyears and contains a purchase option.The entire output of theblast furnace,Dr. Mathesius said, will be appliedto support Geneva's current steel andpig iron production program, whichrequires operation of all availableblast furnaces and open hearth facili-ties at full capacity to serve the de-mands of defense production andessential civilian needs. Salt LakeTribune.

Ivanpah. California . . .Possible establishment of a new lead,copper and zinc mill at Ivanpah onthe Mojave desert near the California-Nevada line has been disclosed byHoward Kelly, mining engineer for theClaremont Mining company. He saidthe mill will handle ore from the newlyre-opened Sagamore mine in the NewYork mountains east of IvanpahVal-ley. Kelly said his company hopes tolocate themill near the Union Pacificrailroad, using water from existingwells owned by the Union Pacific.Mining Record. Beaumont, California . . .The oldest tourmaline mine in Cali-fornia, formerly called theColumbian,has been relocated and recorded asthe Desert Rose. It is at about the6500 foot elevation onThomas Moun-tain in Riverside county. The vein,40 to 50 feet wide, in some placesconsists of pure feldspar or feldsparand quartz. According to the lateGeorge F. Kunz, thelocation was firstworked in 1872 by a Henry Hamilton.At that time fine gemtourmalines upto four inches in diameter were re-covered as solitary crystals and inpockets. Tradition credits the Colum-bian with having produced about $15,-000 in tourmalines before it wasabandoned. Paul Walker and DickGilmore of Beaumont areworking themine, Walker having hunted for it formany years before locating it duringthe winter of 1950.Mineral Notesand News.

Tonopah, Nevada . . .The first shipment from Nye county'slatest gold strike made by Mr. andMrs. Magnus Peterson in the HotCreek range east of Tonopah last fall,has been made to the McGill smelter.It consisted of 10 tons. Grab sampleson the lot returned $93.70 in gold perton. Mrs. Peterson made the originalstrike, finding pieces of ore at the footof a small hill which was subsequentlytraced to the vein. Recent develop-ment work by the Petersons indicatea strong north-south vein. Selectedsamples have assayed ashigh as $300per ton in gold with a small amountof silver. Recent prospecting of veinson adjacent property indicates goldorein commercial quantities. TimesBonanza. Las Veg as, Nevada . . .Shipment of 2500 tons of low grademanganese ore from Artillery Peakdistrict inArizona to the U. S.Bureauof Mines pilot plant in Boulder City,Nevada, is scheduled to start soon.The pilot plant, built at a cost of$600,000 is about ready for serviceand the Artillery Peak ore will beusedto test a new concentration process.If the process proves successful thisnation may become independent offoreign manganese sources. San Francisco, California . . .Recent announcement has beenmade of regulations and terms underwhich the government, through De-fense Minerals Administration, willhelp prospectors and mine operatorsfinance the cost of searching for newores vitally needed in thenation's mil-itary and civilian defense productionprogram. $10,000,000, made availableby thedefense production act of 1950,will be used in a matching principle.The percentage of government fundssupplied will depend upon the costof an approved project and the min-eral; 50percent being the governmentcontribution in the case of copper,fluorspar, iron ore, etc.; 75 percentfor antimony, manganese, mercury andtungsten; 90 percent for cobalt, nio-bium-tantalum, industrial diamonds,platinum group metals, talc, tin, etc.The applicant's share of the expensesmay be paid in form of labor at rea-sonable rates, rental of equipmentowned by him, and similar contribu-tions as well as cash. Applicationswill be received in Washington, D. C.or at the regional offices of DefenseMinerals Administration. MineralInformation Service.

Indio, California . . .Known deposits of tungsten ore inthe Dale mining district and othermineralized areas surrounding theCoachella Valley may be opened forexploration and development underterms of a new federal ruling. Minerswho want to sell tungstic ore at aguaranteed price of $63 a short ton forthe next five years must notify theGeneral Services Administration, 630Sansome Street, San Francisco, byJune 30, Robert Bradford, GSA's re-gional director, announced. Buyingwill begin July 1. The guaranteedprice applies only to newly developedores or production above 1950 levelswhere there is existing production. Aminer may w rite on a penny post card,"I want to join in the Government'sProgram and will prospect for andproduce tungsten," sign hisname andgive hismail address. He will receivea certificate authorizing him to bringtungsten to specified locations whereit will be assayed and weighed andimmediately paid for. Date Palm. Twentynine Palms . . .A new Iron Age mine crusher isscheduled to begin turning out highgrade ore in the Pinto Mountainssoutheast of Twentynine Palms. Min-ing engineers of the Kaiser Steel Cor-poration, after a survey of the IronAge site, have estimated 3,000,000tons of high grade ore are on the sur-face and an undetermined amountunderground. A Salt Lake City roadcontracting firm, Gibbons and Reed,owns andwill operate themine, deliv-ering ore to the railroad at Amboy.A 10-mile road has been built fromthe mine site to the Dale ChemicalIndustries plant and to a junction withthe Amboy road about three milesnorth. Production of iron in that im-mediate area is said to be a new min-ing venture.Desert Barnacle. Tonopah, Nevada . . .Desert Milling company of Search-light is reported negotiating for controlof a huge deposit of gold-silver tail-ings at Millers near Tonopah, esti-mated to contain 2,000,000 tons ofmaterial. The company, headed byCharles Chandler, is milling 100 tonsof gold-silver tailings daily, depositedby plants formerly operated at theDuplex and Quartette mine, majorproducers half a century ago. Ore re-duction plants were operated at Mil-lers on ore from Tonopah mines inthe early days of the Tonopah dis-trict. Later mills were built to treattailings carrying appreciable amountsof gold and silver. The tailing dumpis owned by Albert Silver and MarkBradshaw, Nevada mining men. Mining Record.

22 DESERT MAGAZINE


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By SANDY HASSELLArt work by Charles Keetsie Shir ley, Navajo Artist

7WO DAYS back Mrs. Onegoathad finished weaving her rugjust when the sun had com-pleted its trip across the sky. Th atwas a lucky time. Yesterday she hadunlaced it from the loom and hadgiven it a final going over. First shehad carded it lightly with her woolcards. Then with her sheep shearsshe had clipped off all the tufts ofwool. Next both sides were coveredwith a thin paste of white clay. Thepaste was allowed to dry and thenremoved. The clay removed much ofthe grease and the sheep smell. Italso made the rug much brighter.

Today she would take it to the BentTree trading post. As usual Hosteen,her husband, would go along with her.The horses and wagon belonged tohim.This rug had caused her much worryand trouble for it was a special order.Strong Man the trader had given hera string with two knots in it to showher the size of the rug he wanted andshe had lost the string. She hadwrapped the string in a piece of paper,taken it home and placed it on top ofthe canvas bag that held her weavingtools. It disappeared while she wasputting away the purchases she had

made that day. The pet goat must haveeaten it when he was making his dailyinspection tour.The pattern of the rug hadn't both-ered her for Strong Man had shownher a picture of one he wanted dupli-cated and she had stored this pictureaway in her mind. Of course shewouldn't make a rug just like it butshe would make one similar and itwould be prettier.When the rug was about half fin-ished she discovered there would notbe enough black wool. She then hadto shear the black wether. He hadbeen saved for just such an emergency.It was much too early to shear therest of the sheep but the wether wasstrong and she had taken only the woolfrom his back.This morning the family arose be-fore daylight. Moccasins were slippedon, wood was added to the smolderingfire and the coffee pot with what wasleft in it from yesterday was put onthe coals. A handful of coffee, a littlesugar and some water were added toit. Cold fried bread cooked withoutany grease was what they had forbreakfast. If the bread had been friedin grease it would have been a verygood meal, but they had used up allthe grease several days ago. They hadeaten no mutton for several monthsjust white salt meat from the tradingpost. Their sheep had been too poorto kill.After breakfast they dressed for thetrip. Their hair had been washed yes-terday in suds made from yucca rootand done up in yards and yards ofclean white yarn. Mrs. Onegoat puton a clean skirt over her others andHosteen donned an extra pair of blueserge pants that he always wore ontrips away from home. The "keepbox" was opened and their best jew-elry brought out. Large concho silverbelts, white shell beads spaced withmany turquoise and an extra braceletset them apart as prosperous Navajos.The rug was folded and wrapped ina clean white flour sack. The endsof the sack were securely tied with asquare knot. Only a few minutes w ererequired to harness the horses andhitch them to the wagon.

Arriving at the trading post the teamwas driven up to the hitch-rack butwas not tied. This wasn't necessary.The tongue was loosened and droppedon the ground and the tugs were lefthooked to the single-trees.Going inside they were greeted byStrong Man with a gentle handclaspand a low murmer. They liked StrongMan for he often acted just like aNavajo. Without saying anything moreStrong Man opened a large can oftomatoes, drank some of the juice andthen filled the empty space with sugar.

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He placed the tomatoes, two spoonsand some sweet crackers on the coun-ter. This was a treat that Mrs. One-goat expected and received whenshe brought a rug to the trading post.Hosteen took charge of the offeringswithout comment or thanks and placedthem on the floor where they were tohave their meal.When the feast was over Mrs. One-goat was ready to trade her rug. Sheplaced it on the counter without un-wrapping it. Strong Man weighed itand then carried it into a side room.M r s . Onegoat and Hosteen followed.The rug was unwrapped and spreadon the floor. Strong Man sighted alongthe sides to see if it was straight andthen folded the ends together to seeif they were the same length. Wh enhe measured the rug he discoveredthat it wasn't the size that he had or-dered and told her about it . She thentold him about how she had lost the

string. Strong Man smiled and saidthe goat was no good. Otherwise therug pleased him very much and hesaid so. Yes, he knew that she wasthe best weaver in the district and al-ways paid her a little more for herrugs than he did other weaverssohe said.It was time now to buy the rug.Strong Man looked her straight in theeyes. "Fifteen d ollars " he offered.Knowing that he would have to paytwenty to get it.Giving him back a look as straight as

the one he gave her she countered:"Twenty-five!" Knowing that she wasonly going to get twenty.The difference was soon settled andM r s . Onegoat was given a trade slipfor twenty dollars. She liked trademoney better for she could alwayscount her change after each purchase,but for some reason the Big Boss atWashington had frowned on trademoney so Strong Man and all theother traders were giving trade slipsinstead.The trading was fast for Mrs. One-

goat had the money to spend andknew what she wanted. Her first pur-chase was two-bits worth of hay forthe horses. Hosteen took the hay outfor the horses and in a short time re-turned . He was now ready to assisthis wife with her other purchases. Nextin order were flour, baking powder,coffee, sugar, grease and two bits worthof spuds with a couple of onionsthrown in. Then six cans of milk fortwo little lambs that had lost theirmother. Also a small nipple that wouldfit over a pop bottle.Next she decided to buy the frontleg of an old goat that had been shippedin. She knew that it was tough but itwas very fat. She didn 't care if it wastough. The tougher it was the longer

it stayed with you. Th at is what shehad heard a lot of Indians say. Nowcame apples and candy for the chil-dren; some of the round mixed kindwith bright colors and a couple ofsticks of the long kind with red stripes.A trip to the drygoods counter andall but two dollars was soon spent. Thisshe turned over to Hosteen. A brightsilk handkerchief with a bucking horseon it caught his eye, then a packageof cigarets that tasted cool when yousmoked them. He would smoke theseat the trading post and pass themaro un d am ong his friend;-,. One sackof Bull was enough to take home.One or two smokes a day was enoughfor a man when he was at home.Another can of tomatoes, some sweetcrackers, more candy for the childrenand he found he had a nickel left.Strong Man suggested chewing gumand the nickel was spent.They were starting to leave whenM r s . Onegoat turned to Strong Man:"O h, my friend, 1 have spent all mymoney and have forgotten to buymatches, will you give me a few?" Shewell knew that matches were StrongMan's parting gift to all his weavers.

ARIZONA LEADS INPRODUCTION OF COPPERArizona is the top copper producingstate in the union. Its mines scatteredover a 300 mile wide circle in thesouth central part of the state, lastyear turned out over 400,000 tons,nearly half the country's output. Be-

cause copper is an essential metal,government help to the extent of manymillions of dollars is availa ble. Ittakes the form of loans to help payfor construction, contracts to buy theoutput and permission for speedy taxwriteoff of the investment. The ex-pansion program is further encouragedby the high price of coppe r. At 2 4'/2cents a pound, the highest level sinceWorld War I, marginal mines areoperated profitably. The most sizablegain in Arizona's copper output willcome from Magma Copper company'sSan Manuel mine at Tiger, some 40miles northeast of Tucson. When pro-duction gets going full blast, it is esti-mated San Manuel deposits will yield60,000 tons of copper yearly. MiningRecord.

P i c t u r e - o f - t h e - M o n t h C o n t e s tEvery month is a picture month on the desertin summertime onthe higher elevations, and during the winter season on the floor of

the desert. And in order to bring the best of the desert photograp hs,both amateur and professional, to the readers of Desert Magazine, twocash prizes are offered monthly for the camera artist sending in thebest prints.There is a wide :range of subjectslandscapes, wildlife, strangerock formations, sunsets, prospectors, Indiansthere is no limitationas long as the pictures were taken on the desert, and all Desert readersare invited to participate.Entries for the July contest must be in the Desert Magazine office.Palm Desert, California, by July 20, and the winning prints will appearin the September iss ue. Pictures which arrive too late for one m onth'scontest are he ld over for the next month. First prize is $10; seco ndprize $5.00. For non-winning pictures accepted for publication $3.00each will be paid.HERE ARE THE RULES

1Prints for monthly contests must be black and white. 5x7 or larger, printedon glossy paper.2Each photograph submitted should be fully labeled as to subject, time andplace . Also technical data: camera, shutter speed, hour of day. etc.3PRINTS WILL BE; RETURNED WHEN RETURN PO STAGE IS ENCLOSED.4All entries must be in the Desert Magazine office by the 20th of the contestmonth.5Contests are open to both amateur and professional photographers. DesertMagazine requires first publication rights only of prize winning pictures.6Time and place ol photograph are immaterial, except that it must be from thedesert Southwest.7Judges will be selected from Desert's editorial staff, and awards will be madeimmediately after the close of the contest each month.

Address All Entries to Photo Editor*De4*t PALM DESERT, CALIFORNIA24 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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W here the Desert Begins . . .San Jose, CaliforniaDesert:In my classroom I have been tryingto teach my pupils something aboutthe California desertsthe Coloradodesert, the Mojave desert, and DeathValley.But the maps do not show the Colo-rado desert. We've searched the maps,encyclopedias and the Book of Knowl-edge in vain for this inform ation. Yourmagazine has been so helpful as asource of desert material we wonderif you would not clear up the bound-aries of these various deserts for us.V. R.George Wharton James wrote avery informative book entitled" Wonders of the Colorado Desert."As he defined the area it is thatregion in Southern California eastof the Sierras, north of the Mexi-can border, west of the Coloradoriver and south of a line whichwould follow approximately theridges of the Little San Bernar-dinos, Iron, Marias, and RiversideMountains.

The Mojave desert is all thatpart of the California desert lyingnorth of the Colorado desert.Death Valley is of course theValley which bears that name,but when the term Death Valleyregion is used it refers to that por-tion of the Mojave desert whichincludes the Valley proper, theAmargosa and Panamint Valleys,the Panam int, Funeral, Cotton-wood, Grapevine and BlackMountains.These boundaries, as defined,are more or less arbitrary sincedesert regions never can be out-lined with the same precision aspolitical subdivisions. R . H . A maz ing Museum . . .Tustin, CaliforniaDesert:Yesterday my husband and I hadthe pleasure of visiting the WesternTrails Museum of Mr. and Mrs. Ma-rion Speer at Huntington Beach, Cali-fornia.They have a most amazing collectionof Indian artifacts and rocksand Mr.Speer attributes his good health tothe time he has spent in the desertcollecting these items.

In addition to their mineral and In-dian exhibit they have 22,000 picturestaken on travels covering 476,000miles.

I feel that this collection should bebrought to the attention of DesertMagazine readers who are not alreadyacquainted with it. The address is7862 Speer avenue. Liberty Park tract.I understand the museum is to beclosed during August and Septemberwhile the Speers are away on a collect-ing trip.Mr. Speer is a graduate of the Colo-rado School of Mines, and was geolo-gist for the Texas Company for 30years. Since his retirement three yearsago he and Mrs. Speer have devotedall their time to their collection ofrocks and relics. They are fine people,and have made no effort to commer-cialize their hobby. A visit to theirmuseum is made doubly enjoyable bythe interest and enthusiasm of the

owners. O LLA M A E A LD RICH

When a Snake Is Hungry . . .Lucerne Valley, CaliforniaDesert:Recently 1 came across a red racerwith about half of its body protrudingfrom a hole in the ground. When 1touched the snake it paid no attention,so I remained to see what would takeplace.In a few minutes the racer backedout of the hole . In the crook of itsneck it brought dirt to the surface andwith a flip of its body pushed the dirtto the right. It went into the holeagain and the next bit of earth wasflipped to the left. It continu ed thispattern for some time, flipping the dirtalternately to the right and left. Wh enthe pile became high it would level itoff with its head while its body re-mained coiled at the mouth of thehole.

Who Was Buried There? . . .Santa Ana, CaliforniaDesert:Several years ago while hiking acrossDos Palmas Valley, I came upon avery old wooden marker at the headof what appears to be an adult's grave,and alongside of which are five woodencrosses each at the head, apparently,of a child's grave. The marker is soworn and sand-blasted that it is im-possible to decipher the name or thedate on it.Recently, I visited the spot againand took a picture of the graves, whichI enclose. I have made several inquir-ies regarding these graves, but havefound no one who could enlighten meas to their history.

If you or some reader of DesertMagazine, to which I have been asubscriber for many years, can furnishany information regarding these sixgraves, I would appreciate it.The graves are located about 100yards north of Highway 111 and 500

or 600 feet west of the bridge overSalt Creek, and can easily be seenfrom the top of the railroad grade.O . W. H U M P H REY

Gradually the snake was workingdeeper into the hole. When only sixinches of the tail was showing, it re-mained stationary for a long time.Thinking it might be stalled, I got ashovel and removed some of the dirtfrom under its tail. This brought thesnake out in a hurry. It remainedcoiled in the spot where I had scrapedthe dirt away, darting its tongue andlooking the situation over.Then it went into the hole and

195107 desert magazine 1951 july

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