193908 Desert Magazine 1939 August

8/14/2019 193908 Desert Magazine 1939 August

1/38

THE

M A G A Z

i

UGUST. 1939


2/38

n

San Francisco, CaliforniaDear Mr. Henderson:

Th e crayon sketch 1 am se nding you is acopy of a photograph I took of the old Span-ish church at Acoma many years ago. Thisbuilding I understand was 40 years in con-struction and the materials were all broughtup on the backs of the Indians from the plain350 feet below.

I happened to visit there when the Indianswere in the church decorating for Christmasfestivities. As I entered the church I saw 12paintings as large as a door. Eleven of themwere in ruins from dew damp.

One of the paintings was in good condition.It represented a saint holding the infant Christin his hands, painted by the old master Moro.Mr. Marmon who lived at Laguna, N. M.,told me the picture was medicine to the In-dians, and that durin g a war the Lagu na tribes-men had stolen it away from the Acoma. Laterthe Acoma got it back again.

I wrote to the Smithsonian institution inWashington about the painting. They wrote methey knew all about it and the governmentwould give $40,000 for the painting. A fewmonths later in St. Michaels where the Fran-ciscan fathers lived they told me the paintingbelonged to the Catholic church. The lasttime I heard of the painting it had been de-stroyed by dampness, the same as the other11 pictures.

E. A. BURBANK.Mr. Burba nk's sketch is reproduced on this

page.

Rhyolite, NevadaDear Ed:

That feller Tom Worthington who wrotethe answers to that examination quiz in yourlast copy may know his desert but he is plumbcuckoo when he says the Amargosa desert isin Calif. I've tramped that plateau from stemto sternand most of the time I was in Ne-vada. California can claim one corner of theAmargosa if she wants tobut not the wholeworks. You boys are doin' a good job downthere with your magazine and puttin' theAmargosa where it really belongs I got 18of them answers right.

S H O S H O N E G U S .

Colton, CaliforniaDear Editor:

This morning out in my back yard I founda friend of mine dead.

Don't get excited (it was only a small cac-tus by the name of Chollaintroduced to meas Jumping Cholla.) This morning it did notlook very much like a Jumping Cholla. Trans-planted from the warm sunny atmosphere ofhis native home, he could not adjust himselfto the cold wet lonely environment (apolo-gies to the chamber of commerce).

For one who has lived on the desert andloved it, and often has that homesick feeling,I know where I would want to lay me downand sleepand my friend Cholla shall restin his native soil. Soon I shall make a trip to

the desert for the purpose of returning himto his own.And who knows? Perhaps my friend Cholla

may grow roots and blossom out with flowers.IDA MAY GRIFFITHS.

Old Spanish church a! Acoma. Neir Mexico Crayon sketch by E. A. Burbank.

Glendale, CaliforniaDear Sir:

I herewith send my check for $3.50 forVolum e 1 of your magazine to com plete mytile.

Later in the season when my long-sufferingschnozzle is removed from the grindstone fora brief vacation I hope to visit you in yournative ha'nts and tell you howdy. I mightalso take you to task for the mental anguishyou cause me w ith y our darned magazine how the aitch can I get any work done whenI think about the jaunts outlined by thisHilton person? Or what happens to my con-centration when I consider these two guysKelly and Korn reading up on the Manly

party, and then going right to the one spotin all that wilderness and finding "H . W. B ."carved on rhat rock? How can I give ade-quate attention to the problem in hand whenI am trying to figure what a chuckawallalizard lives on?

I could write three pages of this if Ithought you could stand it.

DR. ROBERT R. ORR.

Long Beach, CaliforniaDear Mr. Henderson:

I note in the July number of your excellentpublication your request for proper spellingof the word KACHINA, so I am offeringthis information:

The Handbook of American Indians North

of Mexico, (Bulletin 30), Bureau of Ameri-can Ethnology, (the most authentic authorityextant), says:

"KACHINA.A term appl ied by the Hopito supernatural beings impersonated by menwearing masks or by statuettes in imitation ofof same."Part I, p. 638.

Also:"Dolls.A mong the Hopi these lit t le fig-

ures are of soft cottonwood, so cut and paintedas to indicate in miniature the elaborate head-dress, decorated face, body and clothing ofthose who represent Kachinas or imperson-ations of ancestral breath bodies or spirits ofmen. These dolls are not worshipped but aremade by the priests in their kivas during thegreat spring ceremonies as presents for thelittle girls to whom they are presented onthe morning of the last day of the festival bymen personating Kachinas."

I was in charge of the Hopis ten years.Spent 35 years in the U. S. Indian service.

EDGAR K. MILLER.

Los Angeles, CaliforniaDear Sir:

W e enjoyed Desert Steve Ragsdale, in hisarticle "My Friend the Tortoise," but weresomewhat surprised when he dasheddamnthus, d . Or did you do it? Imagine adesert man going sissy to that extent.

N E D M A U S TO N .

Lemon Grove, Calif.Dear Sir:

The Desert Quiz in the June issue certain-ly was a splendid test. Through a stroke ofgood luck my score was 18. Numbers five and16 proved to be stumbling blocks. A greatdeal of credit is due the originator or origin-ators of the Quiz. I hope you have othersimilar tests in the future.

FLETCHER A. CARR.Congra tulations, M r. Carr, on your

admission to the Royal Order oj SandDune Sages. Only two other readers haveequalled your score as jar as we havelearned. R. H.

Waban, Mass.Dear Desert Magazine:

May I express to you the pleasure yourDesert Magazine has given me. I am not adesert dweller, but let me assure you not evena desert veteran could enjoy the magazinemore than I.

Last June in Los Angeles, stopping at theFigueroa hotel I "discovered" your magazinon the newsstand in the lobby. At once knew I wanted to carry back with me thaparticular number. Then I conceived the ideof subscribing for it. It may have been anunusual request to make of a newsstand attendant in a hotel lobby, and there were nosubscription blanks or official receipts. So I accepted the receipt the young lady wrote fomeand placed it in my purse with a wonderful sense of having done something thawould make me quite content to leave LoAngeles and return to my home in the extremeast. . .

I like the poetry page. And would so muchlike true experiences of persons who are inany way connected with rattlesnakes, or ansnake stories. I'm scared to death of thembut strange to say enjoy reading about them

MRS. F. A . WOODMAN.


3/38

D E S E R T

A U G U S T

2 to 16Arizona landscapes, inoil, by Robert Atwood ofPhoenix, exhibited at Museumof Northern Arizona, Flag-staff.

2 to 16Exhibit of silver jewelryof Indian design at Museumof Northern Arizona, Flag-staff, by Julian Hayden ofPhoenix.

iGreen Corn dance at Santo Do-mingo Pueblo in New Mexico.

i to 6 Mormon lake rodeo innorthern Arizona.

6Annual Smoki snake dance giv-en by the Smoki clan at Pres-cott, Arizona.

10Horse show at Prescott, Ari-zona.

11 to 12New Mexico Press as-sociation meets at Carlsbad.

11 to 13Annual Long Valley,Arizona rodeo.

12-13Annual Spanish trails fiestaat Durango, Colorado.

12-13Annual New Mexico Nat-ional guard horse show atLas Vegas.

17 to 20Inter-Tribal Indian cere-monial program at Gallup,New Mexico. M. L. Wood-ard, secretary.

19 to Sept. 3Water colors byWalton Blodgett on exhibit atMuseum of Northern Arizona,Flagstaff.

20"Trail Riders" annual trek in-to the high Sierra leaves Bish-op , California. Thirteen-daysaddle tour sponsored byAmerican Forestry association.

23 to 25Uintah Basin industrial

convention and Indian fair atFort Duchesne, Utah.

28St. Augustine's Day observedannually by Indians at IsletaPueblo, New Mexico.

28 to 31Sixth annual metal min-ing convention and expositionof the American Mining con-gress at Salt Lake City.

31 to Sept. 2Arizona departmentof the American legion holdsannual convention at Tucson,Arizona.

Announcement of the Hopi snakedances held the latter part of Au-gust will be made about 10 daysbefore the ceremonies are held.

Volume 2 AUGUST, 1939 Number 10

COVER

LETTERS

CALENDAR

PHOTOGRAPHY

FORTUNE

TRAVELOG

VAGABOND

NATURE

PRIZES

LEGEND

' ;

INDIANS

GEMS

FICTION

CAMERA ART

MYSTERY

PUZZLE

CONTRIBUTORS

LANDMARK

NEWS

BOOKS

PLACE NAMES

MINING

COMMENT

POETRY

NAVAJO WEAVER, photographby Josef Muench,Santa Barbara, California.

Comment from the rea der s of Desert Mag azi ne

Inside Cover

Augus t even ts in the deser t countr y 1

Prize winn ing pictures in June 2

They Found Goldthe Hard WayBy RANDALL HENDERSON 3

Trail to Hopi Snake DanceBy MRS. WHITE MOUNTAIN SMITH . . . 6

I Drove Away Countless Hordes of Evil SpiritsBy EVERETT RUESS 11

Underworld at Carlsbad

By LECIE McDONALD VIOLETT 13

Ann oun ceme nt of Augus t phot ogr aphi c contest . 16

The Oraibi Boy and the Hawk

As told to HARRY C. JAMES . . . . . . 1 7

Primitive Cerem onia l at Gal lup 18

'Apache Tears'By JOHN W. HILTON 20

Hard Rock Shorty of Death Valley

By LON GARRISON 22

Photograph by WM. M. PENNINGTON . . . . 23

Whence Came the CahuillasBy RUTH MARTIN PASCOE 24

Desert QuizA test of your knowledge ofthe Southwes t 26

Write rs of the Desert 27

Prize contest for Augu st 29

Here an d Ther e on the Desert 30Current Reviews 32

Origin of na me s in the Southw est 34

Briefs from the desert reg ion 35

Just Between You and Meby the Editor . . . 36

Gr and Can yo n of Arizona, an d other poe ms . . 37

The Deser t Magazineis published monthlyby the Deser t Publ ishing Company,597State Street , El Centro, California. Enteredas second class matter OctoberII, 1937, atthe post office at El Centro, California, underthe Act of March 3, 1879.

Title registered No. 358865 in U. S. Patent Office, and contents copyrighted1939 bythe Deser t Publ ishing Company. Permiss ionto reproduce contents mustbe securedfrom the edi tor in writing. Subscription rate $2.50per yea r in U. S. A. or possess ions .Single copy 25 cents .

RANDALL HENDER SON, Ed i to rTA Z E W E L L H. LAMB, Associate Edi tor

Manusc r ip t sand photographs submit ted mustbe accompanied by full return post-age. The Deser t Magazine assumesno responsibility for damage or loss of manusc r ip t sor photographs a l thoughdue care will be exercised for their safety. Subscribers shouldsend notice of change of address to the circulat ion depar tmentby the fifth of themonth preceding issue.

A U G U S T , 1 9 3 9


4/38

/Zauldei jbam at A/ujJttBy JIM LEONARD

810 S. Flower St., Los Angeles, CaliforniaFirst prize winning picture in the June contest of

the Desert Mag azine. Taken with a 4x5 SpeedGraphic, 60-second exposure, S. S. S. Agfa film.

Belli off San Xcuu& i del Bac(Tucson, Arizona)

By ALICE MARIE ROBERTS5626 Aldama St., Los Angeles, California

Awarded second prize in the June contest of theDesert Magazine. Taken with a2lAx2lA AutomaticRolleiflex, f 11, 1/100 second at 10 a. m., light yellowfilter, Agfa Superpan press film.

Judges in the monthly photographic contesnamed the following entries as having exceptionaquality:

"Sentinels of the Storm," by Vio Golvin, Los Angeles, California."Night Blooming Cereus," by Ivan B. Mardis, Tucson, Arizona.

"Zabriskie Point," by Fred Hankins, Taft, California.

T h e D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


5/38

Thousands of prospectors have tramped over thebarren Chocolate mountains in the Southern Cali-fornia desert during the past 75 years. They founda little placer gold, and that was all. Then twoImperial valley farmers came along this year anduncovered a ledge carrying values as high as$5,000 to the ton. The new strike may be a milliondollar mineor just a rich pocket. No one knowsyet. But after you read this story you will agree

that the men who found the Mary lode deserve arich reward.

They Found Gold

- - the Hard Way

_

V

Western R. VanDerpoel {right) and his son Everett at

the place where their new gold strike was made.

By RANDALL HENDERSON

/ / / / vE panned out a trace of goldlA/ down there in the wash near*" our camp and we just fol-

owed it up the canyon until we struckhe ledge it came from."

Everett VanDerpoel was telling mebout the new gold strike in the Choco-ate mountains of Southern California.

The discoverywas made by Everett andhis father, Weston R. VanDerpoel, earlyn April this yearand today they are tak-ng out ore that runs as high as $5,000n gold to the ton.

We were seatedat the entrance to their

shallow mine tunnel highup on the sideof a rugged peak that looksout over theSalton basin. The haze of a mid-Juneday shimmered overthe sand dunesonthe desert belowus. The cultivated areaof Imperial valley couldbe seen dimlyway off to the southwest.

The story sounded very simpleas Ev-

erett told it. Anyone oughtto be able tofind a gold mine by a method so logical.But it wasn't as easy as that. Otherwisethe gold ledge would have been discov-ered long before now. Pauline Weaverprospected this country three-quartersof

a century ago. Peg-leg Smith came thisway many times,and thousands of othergold-seekers have pickedand pannedinand around the Chocolates duringtheintervening years.

Rumors of the new gold strikehadbeen so conflicting as to the value andextent of the ore body I wanted to gothere and learn the facts for myself. Also,I wanted to shake hands with a pros-pector who actually had found a goldlode in the Chocolate mountains.

I have been in and out of the Choco-lates for 27 years and I have knowna

& M A RY L O D E M I N E

' M . ; . . ; ; - ^ ; y ^ r :

TO HOLTVILLE '

=ALL AMERICAN CANAL *--m"~~^Z MEXICO7

A U G U S T , 1 9 3 9


6/38

score of veteran prospectors who havetramped these hillsat one time or another

in search of precious metal. In the bot-tom of my trunk are some beautifullyen-graved mining shares once soldto me bya promoter who assured me he and hisassociates had uncovered a rich vein ofgold-bearing quartzin these mountains.It was a sucker investment.

Placer gold has been found at theeastern end of the range, yes, but in theentire 60-mile spanof chocolate-coloredhills that extend alongthe north sideofthe Salton basin from Glamisto Mecca,I never had heard of any one uncoveringa lode claim worth the shoe leather it

took to find it.And so I drove out to see for myself.I found the mining camp12 miles out ofGlamis at the end of a jalopy trail thatzig-zagged over the malpais and cross-washes without regardfor the compass.It is a typical prospector's roadoneofthose 10-mile-an-hour thoroughfares.Itmerely follows the easiest cross-countryroute locatedby the VanDerpoels follow-ing their gold discovery.

I arrived at the camp some time afterdark and found a dozen men loungingon cots spread overa narrow benchbythe side of the arroyo in which the Van-Derpoels found their first traceof placergold. The mine is three-quarters of amile back in the hills, reached by a foot

A three-quarter mile trail leads fromcamp up to the chocolate-colored

ridge where the mine is located.Gold was discovered at the pointmarked by a black circle. High gradeore is being back-packedout of themountains to supply funds for de-

velopment of the property.

trail that climbs to an elevation of 500feet above the camp.

The VanDerpoels and James Murphywere in the group. Murphy is a longtime friend of the family and a partnerin the mining venture. That eveningincamp and during a visit to the mine thenext day they told me their storysim-ply and unreservedly. Thereis nothingmysterious or glamorous aboutthe taleas they recitedit.

There are many waysof finding a goldmine. The VanDerpoels found theirsthehard way. There was no romance in thediscovery of the Mary Lodeas they calltheir claim. Theydid not stumble acrossit while huntingfor a lost burro,nor didthey get their clue from nuggets depos-ited on the surface of the ground by in-dustrious gophers.

There are 10,000 rocky gulchesin theChocolate mountainsmoreor less. Ittook 20 years for Weston VanDerpoeltofind the right one. He trekked overthedesert in an old jalopy that was somewhat

faster than a burrobut not as reliable.He was prospectingin a country where

waterholes are far apart. He worked atseasons when the sun was so hot it wasnecessary to wear cotton glovesto keephis hands from being blisteredon thegold pan. The fiction writers makero-mance of prospecting but for WestonVanDerpoel it was year after yearofhard work and disappointments.

Sometimeshe went alone and at othertimes he was accompanied by Everett orJim Murphy. They followedthe methodof the practical miner rather thantheengineer. Systematically they workedonewash after another with pickand pan.

Somewhere nearthe mouth of an arroyothey would washa few pans of gravel.If there was no surface showingof goldthey would dig to bedrock and pan somemore. That is the routine they havefol-lowed for years.

Early last spring they founda show-ing of color in the wash sand near wheretheir present campis located. Somewhereback in the hills that goldhad weatheredout of the mother lode. And so theyworked up the canyon. Each tributarywaspanned for colorand one by one theywere eliminated.The gold trail led them

to the slopes of a rugged peak far backin the range.There was no bright outcroppingof

quartz to give them a clue to the exact

The DESERT MAGAZINE


7/38

'ration. The slope was covered with theme weathered brown stone found on aousand other slopes in the Chocolatenge.It was a case of climb the steep sides ofe hill and start digging in. An over-

urden of three feet of rock must be re-oved before they could get down to thermation where they might expect tond gold-bearing ore. They went at theb with the same dogged persistenceith which they had panned gravel in

ountless washes below. It was slow hardork, but by a process of eliminationey gradually closed in on the areahere the gold should be.Then late one afternoon just as they

ere about to start the long hike back their base camp at the foot of theountains Everett turned over a rock thatoked promising. He broke it in two and

was flaked with tiny particles of gold.That was the end of the 20-year trail

or Weston VanDerpoel. "We knew itas good ore," said Everett, "and the

ssays were even better than we had ex-orted."

Since the original discovery they haveaked seven claims and named them the

Mary Lode honoring the wife andTother who remained at home on the.nch while Weston and Everett pros-ected the hills.

They may have a $25,000 mineorhere may be a million beneath the sur-ace where they are working or in the

djoining claims. Mining engineers haveisited the property and have come awayithused over the ore that is being takenatbut no one can say yet how much: it is there.

Development work goes on despite the118-degree midday temperature at thisime of the year. Every morning beforeunup a half-dozen men file out of campid up the steep trail to the diggings.

And every evening toward sundown theseime men march back, each with a 75-ound sack of ore on his shoulder. Onlyie best rock is being packed out now

jst enough to supply money for the de-velopment work.Plans are being made for a new road

v/hich will enable trucks to go directly) the base of the slope where the mines located. An ore chute will be installed

en the mountainside and the back-pack- ig days will be over.

"I don't know how rich our mine is,"Everett said. "We've got a good prospecthole and that is about all. We've takencut ore that assayed $4800 in gold and: 57 ounces of silverand some thatdidn't assay 48 cents. We packed 1900pounds of it down from the mine on our1 tacks and put it through a little two-'tamp mill at San Diego and it yielded

JJ1200. There are 25 tons sacked up atthe mine waiting for the building of the

' . . ' ' . m J

Gold values of the rock in the tunnel are determined by the old mortar and panmethod.

road. Some of it will run $1,000 to thetonsome much less than that.

"So far, we have worked only at theoriginal discovery, and the hole isn't deep

enough to require a windlass. We'vehardly done more than the necessary lo-cation work. We have traced the ledqealong the side of the mountain for a dis-tance of perhaps a hundred feet. At srrnepoints it is 18 inches wide at otherplaces it breaks up into a series of string-ers. It may be a rich mine, or it maypinch out. We don't want to kid our-selves or anyone else about this mine."

The strike was made near the sectionline between sections 14 and 15, town-ship 12 south, range 18 east, San Ber-nardino base and meridian.

The VanDerpoels have had little an-noyance from the army of curious folkswho usually rush to the scene of everynew gold strike. One reason is the 12-mile trail across the humps and bumpsbetween Glamis and the gold camp. Itis no place for tenderfoot drivers. Theother reason is that the south side of theChocolate mountains in summertime ishotter than a ringside seat in hades.

Weston VanDerpoel is 68 years oldone of the pioneers of Imperial valley.He came to the desert in 1900 and took

up an Imperial valley homestead. Heleveled his claim and was waiting forwater when the first irrigation canal wasbuilt from the Colorado river. He neverstudied mineralogy in the classrooms.But he liked the hillshis friends say

he would rather mine than farm. All ofhis spare time was spent in the arroyosand barren slopes of the ranges that en-close the Salton basin on three sides.

When Everett became 22that was10 years agohe began going out withhis father on prospecting tripsand to-gether they followed the trail that ledthem to one of the most important strikesever made on the Colorado desertandthe first discovery of a pay lode in theChocolate mountains.

Everett divides his time between themine and his watermelon field in Im-perial valley. If the mine turns out wellhe will probably quit the melons afterthis year. He prefers to follow the goldtrail in the desert hills.

Since the strike was made, Jim Mur-phy, who was taken into partnership aft-er the discovery, has practically desertedhis drive-in rootbeer stand in El Centra.

Jim prefers to remain in the back-ground. "Weston and Everett found thisclaim," he said. "They worked hard forit and they deserve every dollar they cantake out of those rocksand also all thecredit that goes with it."

I'll say this for the VanDerpoelsand their Irish friendthey deserve towin. And if you want to know why Ifeel that way about itjust take your

car one of these summer days and followthe trail out to that mining camp. Ol'Man Desert doesn't give up his treasuresreadily and he demands an extra heavypenalty from those who would win goldfrom the Chocolate mountains.

A U G U S T , 1 9 3 9


8/38

This picture of the Hopi Snake Dance was taken 30 years ago, before the Indians put a ban on cameras.

Trail to HopiSnake Dance

By MRS. WHITE MOUNTAIN SMITH

O n the Hopi mesa at Walpi this year th e Indians wil lhold another of those amazing ceremonia lsthe SnakeDance . Amer icans wi l lgo there and witness this weirdr i tua land come away more puzz led than everas to thes t range magic which enablesth e Hopi Snake Prieststosurvive unharmed from th e bite of venomous rep t i les .Mrs. White Mountain Smithh a s lived with th e Hopi andhas many c lose personal f r iends among them.In the ac-companying s toryshe gives some int imate gl impses intothe lives of these mysterious tr ibesmenand also somehelpful information for those who plan sooner or later towitness th e Snake Dance .

*")T the head of one of the trailsI / leading to the Hopi First mesain

I ' northern Arizona, sunningheraged frame in the midday warmthof herdoorway, sits Nampeyo, oldest womanin Walpi. Therefor almost a centuryshehas watched the first red rays of daybreaking in the east, and at sunset turnedher eyeson the dying gleamsin the west-ern skies.No more can she see the goldensun, for the years have robbed her ofvision, but she lives again her eventfullife as she sits and dreams, turning sight-less eyes ever towardthe east.

I've spent many hours beside Nampeyohere in her doorway and in the courtyard

where she mixed the clay and shapedthefinest of all Hopi bowls and pots in theyears before she lost her sight. She is thegrand old lady who revived the art ofpottery making among the Hopi and

Tewa women on the First Mesa. Everyshred of legend and history of the Hopi

people is known to her and it was fromher I first learned the story of the hugerock down the trail halfway which bearsrows and rows of straight lines chiseleddeeply on its face. That is Tally Rock.And this is the tale she told me after along silence whileI waited and she madea journey intothe past:

"Back in the years before any whitepeople lived in this land, and only theSpaniards and priests came amongtheIndian people,the Hopi lived in the val-leys and tilled their fields. Overon theGreat RivertheRio Grandemypeo-

ple, the Tewa Indians,had a villageandmade pottery and had fruitful fields.Atleast that is what is told from one fatherto another as the seasons go along. Thenthe Spaniards cameand with them the

priests who made our people worshipastrange god and build big houses to him,

and we were afraid of the Spaniardsanddid not like the new religion."These people also came amongthe

Hopi and at the village of Awatobi theybuilt a great missionand were very cruelto the Hopi people. Somehowthe Hopigot rid of the intruders and then theywere happy until the Utes and theApaches and the Navajos began to ha-rass them and steal their food and theirfamilies. They made slavesof the peoplethey took from the Hopi countryandwere very cruelto them.

"The Hopi Indians have always been

peaceful and they did not know how tofight the warlike tribes.So they movedhigh on this mesa hereand because of thegap in the mesa they named their townWalpithe Placeof the Gap. They made

The DESERT MAGAZINE


9/38

o paths up to their houses but took longgs and notched them and these werewered when the men wanted to go to

nd from the fields or when the women:eded to carry water from the springs

the foot of the mesa. But always theopi were frightened and the laddersere not safe when one's hands wereled with food or fuel or water jars.) they sent messengers to our village one Rio Grande and asked that my peo-e come here and live. We were toard the Hopi people from the warlikeibes who fought with them. The Hopiould give us a place to make our villaged share all their land and crops with. Because the Tewa people wanted to

at away from the Spaniards they cameid their town was built here at the head

the trail. Th e Hopi gave us land andprings to the eastward, and for hun-reds of years the Tewa people haveved here and guarded the entrance to

he Hopi towns. We are known askeepers of the Trail.' ""Well, tell me about the marks on

he rock beside the trail.""For years after my people came here

he Utes and Apaches tried to climb uphe trail in the darkness and steal foodd wives from the Hopi. But the Tewa

uards never slept. They always knewhen strangers were near the mesa and1 night they'd sit hunched behind a

Dulder waiting until a head would comen view. That was the end of the intruder.

A swift blow from a stone ax and a dead

Nampeyoin her doorway at the head o\ the Walpi trail. Mularky photograph.

warrior lay in the trail forbidden to him.Each time such an Indian was killed theTewa people made a mark on Tally Rockto show what they had done to protecttheir Hopi neighbors."

(I wondered if perhaps they did notover-emphasize their record as I've

: ^ - -

****

counted the marks time and again and180 dead are numbered!)

Nampeyo folded her hands in a com-placent manner and ended her story with,"Even today no one can enter the Hopitowns without passing through the Tewavillage of Hano. The white people whocome up here to watch the Hopi dancewith snakes have to pass by my doorway.We Tewas are indeed Keepers of theTrail!"

If you would see one of the most un-believable sights to be found anywherein the civilized world follow this trailof the Tally Rock up past Nampeyo'sdoor and witness the Hopi Snake Dance.

There are three mesas on which theHopi live, and snake dances are held onall of them. In the odd years Walpi stagesher dance and here high above the goldand purple desert are gathered peoplefrom every section of the world. Thisage-old dance of the serpents is believedby the faithful to bring abundant rainto their fields and water to their springs.Nothing that has been printed or toldcan prepare the visitors for the paganpageant of the Hopi Snake Dance atWalpi.

Ten days before, the dance date is madepublic and after that no one except mem-bers of the Snake Clan and the Antelope

Tally Rock - - where the Teiva In-

dians kept score of the trespasserswho died with cracked skulls. Mrs.White Mou ntain Smith, pictured be-side the rock, has counted these

tallies many times.

A U G U S T , 1 9 3 9


10/38

:-!VH1ULACE31 1 / A

, GALLUP S/ / v - J - \ . " " V J ' . ' I j , ' ' . : ,

Clan is permitted to linger near theunderground kivas,or club rooms, wheresecret ceremonies and preparations arein progress.

Four days before the dance, runnersleave the mesa before dawnand spreadout over the northern country in search

of snakes; on the second day they huntto the west, the third finds them scouringthe south and their final hunt is in theeast. They go, completely unclothedex-cept for moccasins and G-string, armedwith a short digging stickand a bag ofsacred meal.

When a snake has been tracked to itshiding place undera sage bush or coiledround a bunch of grass it is sprinkledwith the meal, then inducedto try escape.Once in motion the rattler is touchedlightly with a bunch of eagle featherstied to a stick and then the catcher grabshis snake brother tightly with thumbandforefinger right behindthe head. It isquickly dropped intoa stout buffalo hidebag used for generations as a snakecarrier. When the day's work is donethe wriggling harvestis stored in bigearthern ollas behindthe ladder leadingdown into the kiva.

In the forenoon of the day set for thedance all snakes are tumbled out on thefloor in a squirming massof rattlers, bullsnakes, whip snakes,red racers and king

snakes, and with chanting and ceremonythey are dipped into a jar of medicineprepared by the Snake Priestess.No oneknows just what herbsand other ingredi-ents go into this concoction,but it is

known thata great manybig black beetlesare brought up from the desert to giveit a certain zip! After the rattlers arewashed the non-poisonous snakesaregiven a bath and then they are tossedonthe sand painting madeof colored claysbefore the altar and herded backand

forth over the painting until it is de-stroyed and they are dry. Small nakedboys belongingto the clan take this taskupon themselves and seem to enjoy itimmensely, as they flip a savage old sidewinder back to his corner.

About an hour before sunsetthe snakesare put back into skin bagsand carriedou t to the plaza where a cottonwoodkisi has been erected just behinda sym-bolic entrance to the underworld wherethe water gods are assembled listeningto this dance held in their honor. At

sunset the Snake priests, barbaricandterrible in their painted nakedness, shellornaments and fox skins, come intotheplaza. After chantsand more chants eachdancer securesa snake betweenhis teethand circles the dance space with it fourtimes. He opens his mouth and the snakedrops to the earth sometimes seekingrefuge amongthe inhospitable whitevis-itors.

When all of something likea hundredsnakes have been honored, theyare gath-ered into a circle made of sacred meal

and sprinkled with more mealby womenmembers of the clan, after whichthepriests gather huge handfulsof themandrun down the steep trails to the snakeshrines in the desert. There they turn

their little brothers looseto carry prayersand thanks to underground gods.

There is a lot more to the Snake Dancebut one needs to be there in person toget all the details.All roads lead to Hopi-land in August. The safest and most prac-tical are given on the map presented here.

It is possible to leave U. S. Highway66at four points, Gallup beingthe easterngateway and Flagstaff the western. Moredirect routesare from Winslowand Hol-brook. A good reservation road runningnorthward from Holbrook to Keam'scanyon follows the base of the mesa 12miles from thereto Walpi. There are noreal hazards in making the trip to theHopi Snake Dance, providedone has acar in good repair, well greased, servicedand carryinga spare tire. Service stationsare scarce in the Indian country.

A shovel is needed in case of sand

across the road, and chains are imperativeif there should be a sudden rain on thedirt highway. Rainsdo follow the HopiSnake Dance,and don't let anybody tellyou otherwise. Whetherthe priests aresupreme weather prophetsand know justwhen a storm is due, or whether theyhave a special brand of black magicalltheir own, still it rains after the SnakeDance.

Ordinary clothingis all right for thejourney, with the addition of a sunshadefor use during the hot sunny hours beforethe dance, and a raincoat to be wornon

the way down the hill. Your car will beleft at the foot of the mesa in a parkingground providedby the Indian service,and from thereyou walk up and admirethe scenery or you ride on an Indian

The DESERT MAGAZINE


11/38

/agon drawn by two sleepy ponies. Innat case you pay 50 cents for taxi serv-e well worth it. Yo u'll need yourermos jug of water up on the mesa. Norinking water is available there. Indian

oys peddle soft drinks all day long.Visitors should leave Holbrook around

iine o'clock in the morning to make the0-mile drive in comfort, have time foricnic lunch along the way under the

pifion trees, and admire the flocks ofNavajo sheep with their small brilliantlylad shepherd girls. The road leadshrough beautiful country with imposinguttes and soft painted desert back-round.

Indian Wells, half way to Keam's can-yon, is one of the oldest trading posts inhe country and the stock of Navajo rugs,ewelry and curios is authentic. Tom Pav-tea, at the foot of the Hopi mesa, keeps

unusual Indian treasures in the great rock

tore house over which he rules. Yearfter year this fine Hopi gentleman hasgreeted his friends here, and the Hopibaskets, pottery and kachinas have goneout wherever Indian goods are carried.

It is impossible for a visitor to theHopi Snake Dance to photograph it andf you think you can outwit the Indians.nd get your kodak up on the mesa, think.gain. All one gains by such conduct ist hurried trip to the foot of the trail.nd loss of the kodak.

You'll probably go down the trail soast after you try to take a forbidden pic-ure that you'll miss seeing the Spiderhrine, where the gap occurs which al-ows you to look northward a hundred

miles or so. This shrine, made of stonesaid smoothly in a square, is adorned

with Hopi prayer sticks calledbahos, allrimmed with the down from an eagle's

breast to waft them quickly to the spirits.Sea shells and favorite bits of petrifiedwood and turquoise are left at this shrine.

Where the gap breaks the trail theres a hidden path that leads to the otheride of the ledge and that is a path

many a heavy hearted mother treads withher dead baby wrapped in her arms. Thiss where little ones are placed in theirock crypts, crevices in the cliffs. The

Hopi believe that the spirits of children.re too weak to be placed undergroundo they are left here in the cliffs near their

mothers' homes, and can wander aroundus they please. They often visit theirhouses and find the bits of corn meal andother titbits placed in out of way cor-ners for them by their mothers. Theyeally are homeless little waifs until the

UpperSpider Shrine of the HopiIndians.

LowerChild burials were in thecrevices in the rocks. Mu larky photo-

graph.

(*

*!!

A U G U S T , 1 9 3 9


12/38

mother gives birth to another babyandthen the spirit of the dead baby entersthe body of the newborn childand every-body is happy again.The dry air and hotsun at a 7000-foot elevation servetomummify the small bodies there in thecliffs.

At the foot of the mesa is the sleepingplace of the older Hopi.One of the mostlavishly decorated gravesis that of Harry

Shupali, for many years Snake PriestatWalpi. The Snake Dance underhis rulewas a ceremony full of grimness and se-verity. The day he was buried thousandsof dollars worthof turquoise jewelrywasplaced on his grave insteadof flowers.

The Hopi Indiansare kindly, smilingpeople and they welcome white peopleinto their homes with the utmost gra-ciousness. On the window ledgesanddoorstep are displayed their potteryandbaskets and the hand carved gaily paintedHopi dolls or Kachinas. Hoursof laborand skill go into the making of even a

ten-cent ash tray offered by these women.The Snake plazais in the end village,

Old Walpi, standing gaunt againsttheArizona skyline. Perhaps400 Indianslive in this castle-like pueblo withitshidden rooms and outdoor pent houses.On the topmost floorone can likely findan aged crone baking the ceremonialbreadpikifor use in the feast to fol-low the dance. That is a sight worth seek-ing.

Seats on housetops around the Snakeplaza are sold by the house ownersfor J>1

each. There is no argument aboutit. Youpay the dollar and sit in safety abovetheground over which the released snakeswiggle, or you can take your chance withthe mob down around the Snake Rock.

Pueblo oj Walpi

No visitor has ever been bitten by asnake as far as the records showandchances are you won't be. But if you aretimid about reptilesand hate to be jostledby Navajo, Zuni, Hopiand assortedtourists then givethe housewife a dollarand enjoy the view from her front porti-co. The real dance lasts about40 min-utes, and there is time to be down off the

mesa and safely in your car long beforedarkness coversthe desert.In many places in the Southwestthe

SNAKE PRIESTS SET DATES

Dotes for the annual Snakedances are determined by theHopi Snake priests accordingtocertain signs of the sun andmoon . The time is not givenoutuntil ten days before the

dances , but they always occurduring the last half of August.The dance is performed in

five Hopi pueblos, each villageholding one dance near sun-down on the day fixed by thepriests. Walpi and Mishong-novi hold the dance on oddyears (this year), and on theeven years it is at Hotevilla,Shimopovi and Shipaulavi.Thedance is never held in morethan one vil lage on the s a m eday.

When the dates are deter-mined they are announced atsunset by village criers on thehousetops.

native dances of the Indians have beencommercializedfor the benefit of both In-dians and whites. The Hopi Snake dance,perhaps more thanany other ceremonialamong the tribesmen, remainsa sacredritual untouchedby white influence.TheHopi doesnot care whether visitors cometo his dance or not. However, if you goyou will be treated respectfully as longas you observe the same rules of conductthat would apply if the Hopi were aguest at your houseof worship.

M A Y REPORT FROM U. S. BUREAUAT PHOENIX

TemperaturesMean for month 85.9Normal for June 84.5High on June 12 109.0Low on June 18 60.0

RainTotal for month 00.0Normal for June 0.07

Weather

Days clear 28Days partly cloudy 2Days cloudy 0

G. K. GREENING, Meterologist.

FROM YUMA BUREAUTemperatures

Mean for month .. 85.0Normal for June 84.7High on June 12 113.0Low on June 6 58.0

RainTotal for month 00.069-year average for June 0.02

Weather Days clear 30Days partly cloudy 0Days cloudy 0

Sunshine, 425 hours of sunshine out of possi-bl e 42 8 hours .Colorado riverJune dischargeat GrandCan-

yon 1,660,000 acre feet. Dischargeat Parker588,000 acre feet. Estimated storage behindBoulder dam 24,350,000 acre feet.

10 The DESERT MAGAZINE


13/38

In September, 1934, two months before he mysteriously droppedfrom sight in the desert wilderness of southeastern Utah, EverettRuess wrote the following letter to his friend Ned Frisius. Thisletter, like those previously published in the Desert Magazine,gives new sidelights on the nomadic life of the young vagabondartist. The original story of Everett's disappearance, written byHugh Lacy, appeared in the September, 1938, issue of this maga-

(2ountUs* -fjotde*

EVERETT RUESSB Y D AV I D E A R L M C D A N I E L

San Jose, California

Some name him foolbut I don't knowHe said the sun and yucca's glow,

The feel of rising wind acrossthe sandsWere gifts he sought from God'sown

hands.

I watched him go, the shimmering hazeAbsorb his form in the desert's maze.

Some call him foolI think he knewHis trail but led to some rendezvous.

SphitA

By EVERETT RUESS

Illustration by G. A. RANDALL

Dear Ned:I was surprised and pleased to find

our letter at Grand Canyon the otherclay. I have spentthe last week near Flag-taff vacationing.I left my burros, Cock-

hburrs and Chocolatero, underthe careof an artist friend at Desert View, andDok the highway down hereto visit ariend with whom I did some archaeo-agical work this summer.It was fascinat-ng workin ruins dating from eight

hundred to fifteen hundred years back.

And the climbingup almost sheer sand-tone cliffs, clingingby worn foot holdshundreds of years old, or on narrowcrumbling edgeswas more spectacularhan anythingin the Sierras.

From Flagstaff I went south to Oakcreek, and painted some brilliantlyighted vermillion cliffs against inky

storm skies. I came back and saw therst snows on the San Francisco peaks,

and the slopes golden with yellowingaspens.

Evidently you overheard somethingofiy adventure withmy friends the In-

dians. I have a great time with them,es-pecially the Navajos. I once spent threeclays far up a desert canyon, assistingand watchinga Navajo "sing"for a sickwoman. I drove away countless hordes

A U G U S T , 1 9 3 9

of evil spiritsbut after I went awaythegirl died. The sand paintings, seldomseen by white men, were gorgeous.

In my wanderings this year,I havetaken more chancesand had more andwilder adventures than ever before.Andwhat magnificent countryI have seenwild, tremendous wasteland stretches,lost mesas, blue mountains rearingup-

ward from the vermillion sandsof thedesert, canyons five feet wideat the bot-tom and hundreds of feet deep, cloud-bursts roaring down unnamed canyons,and hundredsof houses of the cliff dwell-ers, abandoned a thousand yearsago.

Glad you are getting a good start atcollege.

Your friend Everett.

11


14/38

&

^.

s .,

M i,

>


15/38

Visitors who take the seven-mile hike along theunderground trails in Carlsbad caverns experiencestrange reactions. For one thing, it deflates theiregosthey come away with the realization thatman, with all his genius, plays a rather insignifi-cant role in the general scheme of the universe.Here is a report of a trip along the cavern trail bya woman who marveled at the fantastic beautyof the placebut found added interest in observ-ing the actions and reactions of the humans she

met along the way. If you are a student of humannature you will find this story especially interest-ing.

Underworld

at CarlsbadBy LECIE McDONALD VIOLETT

Photos, U. S. park service

\ I OR the park rangers thiswas just another day and/ another crowd. But for a majority of us who had

come to this barren hillsidein the desert regionofsoutheastern New Mexico it was to be the day of our bigadventure. We had come from 36 states and the Hawaiianislands to see Carlsbad caverns.

Busses and private carshad been arriving since dawn,andthere was a waiting line in front of the ticket windowas thehour approachedfor the start of the daily guide trip downin-to the world's most famous caves.

Officially, this place is named Carlsbad caverns nationalpark. Owned and operated by the United States governmentand administered by the national park service,it is locatedin the Guadalupe mountains,the tapered end of the Rockies.The park reservation includes 49,448 acresof rugged hillsand canyons with practicallyno grass or treesjust brown-gray slopes that bristle with cactiand thorny shrubs. Thebeauty of this area is not the landscape, but in the fantasticrock formations far beneath the surface of the ground.

The entrance in the side of a mountainous rock gloomedcool and inviting. It was a big holeso big you could shovein a five-room cottageand still have room for the cat.

White government buildings, square, Spanishand thor-oughly uninteresting,lay scattered over the hard hills. Theirflat roofs merged intothe horizon in straight unbroken lines.The mid-morningsun beat upon them in arid brillianceandupon us as we waited our turn for tickets.

A guide servicefee of $1.50 is made for each person abovethe age of 16 years, and although this revenue amountsto hundreds of thousands of dollars each year, it is nearlyall spent in improvements,so that the Carlsbad cavernto-day is not only the world's largestand most beautiful cave,bu t it is also the best trailed and best lighted.

Ahead of me a youth blushingly declaredhis wife underage. Folks under17 may enter free. I mentally deploredmy

Chinese Temple in Carlsbad caverns.

too obvious middle years.The young man's word wentun-questioned, The cavern trip does somethingto a fellow'sconscience. If he lies going in he's practically certainto paycoming out. Or mail it later.

The processof buying a ticket finished, I studied my tour-ist companionsas they stood about awaitingthe 10:30 start-ing signal.

There was a blond couple who would make theirownsandwiches. She carried a double-wrapped-in-wax-paper loafand he carried the boloney and the blond youngster.A smart-ly tailored New Yorker wore flaminglip rouge and a prop-erly bored manner.A high school youthwas coolly superior

to "this sortof thing" and to his parents who strove to pleaseand to educate, regardless.Khaki-clad rangers with strained patience, considering that

this was their joband theyhad a jobanswered funnyquestions. They saidyes the elevator recently installedat acost of $126,000 was entirely safe. It costs 50 cents eachway and is for the convenience of the aged, decrepitandfolks with hurty feet.

We wore comfortable shoesand light weight coatsorsweaters. We were going to ivalk seven miles. Not too ex-cited over the prospect of that walk I fell in behind theblond family withthe bread and followed the winding pathdownward towardthe mouth of the cave.

And then I stopped. My calm gave a kind of inward gaspand slipped away. BeforeI regained my customary composureI was to know thrills, to grow dizzy and dazed and finallyto experiencea spiritual uplift unlike anythingI'd ever known.

I knew there was a crowd but such a great numberwas

A U G U S T , 1 9 3 9 13


16/38

breath taking. Thereon the paths that spiraled into greydepths stood hundreds! Six hundred and eighteento be exact.Those farthest down wereso far away they looked little!They stood quietly, almost reverently and there wasa Sundaysolemnity in the way the cavern walls gave back their hushedvoices.

I hurried down into their midst.A sudden shrill whistlefroze us to silence, then the head ranger, so far down heseemed no bigger than a boy scout, stepped out from the

crowd and began to speak:"You are aboutto enter the world's largest known caverns.

Although 30 miles have been explored, their extentis as yetunknown. They lie on three levels in endless reaches,thegreat mystery of the ages." There wasto be no loud talkingand laughter, no loitering and we were to keep closeto-gether. He carried the longest flashlightI ever saw but itmade a comforting headlight beforeus as he swung out intomysterious darkness. We wound down, down, down.

There were rangers behind, pushing, sortof, and rangershurried back and forth keeping us on the right of way. Wewent past a sign that said "Bat cave." I'd hoped a rangerwould flasha light in on the bats and showus two or threemillions hanging head downby their toenails. But theircave was five miles back and there was practicallyno chanceto wander off on side trips

We went through a narrow passageand then out into agreat open space.It was the biggest place I was ever in ex-cept outdoors! The reddish brown sidesof the cavern closeddown in the distanceso far away it was kind of like a horizon.

Huge boulders projected overus and rose besideour path.Above us reddish brown swordsand needles hung fromareddish brown rocky "ceiling' which was pinch hitting beau-

tifully as a sky. I toyed with the idea of a ladder that wouldreach up there. Supposea workman had to go up to fix astalactite. But it was no good. Might as well think of anelectrician climbingup some night to work on a star.Theplace had everythinghills, valleys,a sky!

It was so staggering I got bothered and dizzy. But otherfolks were struggling, too.A man behind me said, "Thereain't no hole as big as this on earth and if there is I ain'tin it."

The crowd sweptme along and we must have climbedahill. Anyway whenI came out of the daze we were startingdown a steep hill. Daylighthad been left behind and nowwe walked by dim reflected glow from hidden light globes.

Folks were exclaiming, "Seethe seal!" and, "Look, there'sa whale!" The whale's mouth gaped wideand there werecreamy stalactites that seemed tryingto be teeth. A boy de-clared they looked like stripsof dried codfish.

Now don't misunderstandme. There's nothing artificialin the caverns except the lights whicha government artistinshadow effects placed carefullyand prayerfully lest theyde-tract from the beauty already created. Government men feelsuch awe and wonderin the place it's said they work alwaysunder a strain. And none would have dareduse a chisel tohelp nature along!

I was consciousof the echo of many voices andthe tramp,tramp of many feet on the spiraling rock-bordered pathandit was rhythmic like the roarof a train. So many people wind-ing, walking down below me.I looked back and there wereas many behind windingand walking and still pouringinfrom behind a great rock at the top of the hill!

Looking backward wasa mistake. It made me dizzier thanever. 1 hadto concentrate on walking. Have you ever seen 600

14Hikers in the Carlsbad caverns stop at the underground lunch stand m aintained by the park service.

The DESERT MAGAZINE


17/38

people on one hill? And this, remember, was down insidethe earth. Even if you don't care much for rocks

There were eleven Hawaiians in that day's crowd. Perhapsthe man in tropical white just ahead was one of them. Hetold his companion of his world travels, even adventures. Anoldish woman behind complained about her heart and herfeet. She hadn't wanted to come anyway.

More than a million and a half hearts have survived thecaverns trip. Probably a third were owned by folks who con-fidently expected to die some day of heart trouble. Physicallywe react to great depths somewhat as we do to great heightsand a certain amount of common sense preparation shouldbe made for this unusual journey.

A nurse accompanies every crowd to give first aid whennecessary but her services are not often needed. The authori-ties regard it as a good omen that few accidents have occurredand none of a serious nature. Once a man 100 years old madethe trip with no ill effects.

The formidable wooden steps that confronted early cavernvisitors were pulled up when the government took over underthe Calvin Coolidge administration. Easy spiraling trails werebuilt then. You can walk two or three abreast.

But to get back to the hill and all those peoplethe firstwalkers finally reached bottom, piled up and became a crowd.This is the first stop and is 200 feet below the earth's sur-face.

The chief ranger stood on a path a little above the crowd,his figure in dim outline against the great rocky background.The chin strap on his broad hat looked choky and his flash-light jiggled a yellow spot about his feet, as if he were undera strain too. ( It's said they never get over it.) When allwere within hearing he attempted to explain the caverns.

They are under the mountain known thereabouts as Carls-bad limestone. Limestone, it seems is soluble and when watertouches it almost anything can happen, and did. As it evapo-rated it left the limestone crystalized in figures fantastic,

weird and indescribably beautiful. It had taken 200 millionyears of drip, drip and evaporation to make the caverns asthey are now.

It wasn't very satisfactorywhat he saidfor he didn't ex-plain the something that in so many cases gave the rockdefinite form as evaporation took place. A chandelier, ashrine, a bath tub, a pipe organthere were too many ofthem for it to be mere coincidence. Neither is it anybody'simagination.

I had been tagging along with a family from El Paso,

** y t

Entrance to Carlsbad caverns

A U G U S T , 1 9 3 9

Col. Thomas Boles, superintendent oj Carlsbad cavernsnational park.

Texas, who were on their fourth trip through. When theranger finished the El Paso man said in an undertone,"Shucks, I can beat that. This is the place where the Scotch-man lost his dollar." A very fat girl in a huge blue polka dotdress giggled that he'd left no stone unturned, and the blondwoman dropped her bread.

We went on to scenes of incredible beauty. The ceiling wasnow creamy white and came down lower and the chamberswere smaller and more like rooms. And all the hanging for-mations and those on the floor were like alabaster.

In the Queen's chamber more than 800 feet below thesurface the formations suggest the feminine. Great curtainsdrop in folds and you want to touch them to make surethey're not velvet instead of stone. There is lace and intri-cate basket weave. A stalagmite had become a drinking foun-tain, all except the water.

Outside the King's palace I saw a garden of flowersfrozen in stone, pools with stone lily pads, Indian shrinesand totem poles. I caught only glimpses as I was hustledalong. We had to move on schedule. We were a train ofpeople due at certain points at specified time. So we did thebest we could with only one pair of eyes. People who live inthe region visit the caverns again and again, some as many

as 12 and 15 times. Even they have never seen thehalf.We had 45 minutes for lunch. This is not a money making

enterprise. There are no concessions along the route. Thecommercial just doesn't belong in the caverns. We were

15


18/38

served quickly and quietly. Many people carried theirownlunch and bought coffee.

In the afternoon we went into the Big Room. This cozylittle place is 4000 feet longand 625 feet wide. The scenesalong the trail are about to be inadequately described.(Theright words havenot been coined.)

The ceiling 350 feet abovein placeswas reddish brown.Some of the formations were that colorbut mostly they werecreamy white and they rose from the floor to staggeringheights. All the world's wonders were reproduced. Therewere the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Chinese Temple, Colo-rado's Garden of the Gods. The trail wound through smallcanyons and beside upturned rocks, jaggedand rugged, forall the world like a range of Rockies in miniature, onlynottoo miniature.

The trip throughthe Big Room is one of rising drama.Ateach turn on the trail you come upon new vistas of grandeurand airy fantasy, each more amazing thanthe one before.Thecrowd grew more quietand you could hear the breathless"ohs" from the startled folks nearestyou.

The air was pure as on a mountain top, although a cloudof tobacco smoke moved along overthe crowd ahead. I sawwhite fleecy clouds reflectedin the shallow pools of water

along the route. I finally stepped out of line to take a betterlook. Sure enough, there they were,not only cloudsbut a blue-sky reflected, suchas you see in pools on top of the earthin Illinois, New York and Texas. Finally I grabbed a pass-ing man by the sleeve. I said, "Mister, are those clouds,oram I seeing things?"

He had a dark solemn look.He looked down, thenupat the dark rocky ceiling, "Well,I swan," he drawled,"Nota cloud in sight. Just a clear day. Pretty soon we'llbe seeingstars."

We walked on together for a little way. He discoveredthehead of a Scottie and I saw a perfectly formed bear. Some-body else saw the face of Herbert Hoover "justas plain aslife."

My companion-of-the-moment seemedto be a collegeman.He talked about evolutionand said there was plenty in thecaverns to support the theory for even the most ardentbe-lievers had found it difficult to believe that a rock had mindin it. He said rocks, you could see, had ambition. "Theywant to make somethingof themselves. Give them TIME.Two hundred million yearsand they can become verysuc-cessful."

A Reverend Somebody behind toldhis companion therewas a place in the Bible where it's recorded, "And the veryrocks cried out." Seemed to him that was what these weredoing.

At about two o'clock in the afternoon, nearly five hoursafter we entered the cavern, we reached a crescent shapedslope on one side of the Big Room and were seatedon ruggedstone seats facinga golden hued stalagmite probably30 or40 feet high.

Colonel Thomas Boles, superintendentof the park, stoodon the trail beside the formation and talked to us. Someofthe formations are ten thousand times older thanthe pyra-mids of Egypt, he said, and then called special attentiontothe formation by which he was standing. On account of itsbeauty and age it has been named "Rockof Ages." ColonelBoles askedfor complete silence.The lights were extinguishedand after 30 seconds of absolute darkness a clear tenorvoice, from a ranger 600 feet away, sang "Rockof Ages."

The lights cameon one by one until the entire Big Roomwas again floodedbut we remained in spell-bound silence.For most of us this was a moment of rapture whenour soulswere merged withthe Soul of All Things. As we quietlygot

to our feet and resumed our journey I overheard a 12-year-old boy whisper, "Mother,I'm going to be a better boy."

The trip out is equally as interesting as the one going in.You see everything from a different approach.The crowdfalls back and gives its last and biggest gasp towardthe endof the journey. A wide shaft of blue-white light slants acrossthe great cavern depthin an effect etherealand super-natural.It's only the afternoon sun flooding throughthe opening.

I had dropped back,and now I walked out with the rearranger. Our crowd, he said was average. Yesterday therehadbeen 700, tomorrow there mightbe 800. The previous Julyand August there were from1500 to 2000 a day. On Julyfourth, 3800.

The stark uglinessof the outside worldhit us as we cameup into daylight.We were not tired. We were excited asthough we'd just thudded backto earth from the moon wherewe'd walked together througha beautiful garden,a gardenall made of stone, a forbidden place,one that had been kepthidden from human eyes throughall the ages while theearth's surface changedand the sun and moon and the starschanged places.

Carlsbad caverns are the eighth and greatest of all theWorld Wonders. Long before Americans began going there

in crowds the Old World had heard of them. Geologists,scientists, archaeologists, research groups have been comingacross the seas for many years to visit this subterraneanmir-acle. Scarcely a day passes now without these foreign visitors.A ranger said, "Folkswho have been everywhereand seeneverything declare thereis nothing on the earth so weirdlyand grandly mysteriousas our Carlsbad caverns."

So you see how it is. The longer you postpone seeing Carls-bad caverns the longer you delay the most amazing, breath-taking experienceof your whole travel career.

Prizes Offered toflmateurPhotographers

Each month the Desert Magazine offerstwo cashprizes for the best camera pictures submittedby ama-teur photographers.The first award is $5.00 and thesecond $3.00.

Pictures are limited to desert subjects,but there isno restriction as to the residence of the photographer.Entries may include Indian pictures, rock formations,flow ers and wild animals, canyons, trees, water holesin fact anything that belongsto the desert country.

Following are the rules governingthe photographiccontest:

1Pictures submitted in the August contest mustbe receivedat the Desert Magazine officeby August20.

2Not more than four prints maybe submittedbyone person in one month.

3Winners willbe required to furnish either goodglossy enlargements or the original negatives if re-quested.

4Prints mustbe in black and white, 2Vix3Viorlarger, and must be on glossy paper.

5Pictures willbe returned only when postageisenclosed.

For non-prize-winning pictures acceptedfor pub-lication $1.00 will be paid for each print.

Winners of the August contest willbe announced

and the pictures publishedin the October numberof themagazine. Addressall entries to :Contest Editor. Desert Magazine,El Centro, Calif.



19/38

While the Hopi and NavajoIndians are living in peace to-day on adjoining reservations,the relationship between themhas not always been friendly. Infact, before the white man's gov-ernment intervened, they weretraditional enemies, with theNavajo usually the aggressor.

The distrust which the peacefulHopi has always held for hisneighbor is revealed in some ofthe eld Hopi legends. The folktale related by Harry C. Jamesfor Desert Magazine readers thismonth is one of this type.

The OraibBoy andthe Hawk

(A Hopi Legend)

As told to HARRY C. JAMES

Illustration by W. MOOTZKA,Hopi Artist

f/ ONG, long ago when yourL _ grandfather's grandfather was a

little boy, there were some Nava-.s living near Oraibi. Theyhad few chil-en and desiring to have a boy to helpok after their flocksof sheep and goats,

ne day stole a little Hopiboy.They were not kind to the child, giv-g him just enough poor foodto keep:n alive and forcing him to work alle time at jobs that should have beenene by a fully-grown man. The pooroy became very unhappy and soonoked so thin that he resembled a skele-n more; thana live child.North, a short distance from where

i3*? Navajos had their hogan theirinsp made of logs and earthwas a*ot cliff near the top of which livedhuge hawk. Often,as the hawk flew

ound in his search for food he saw thetde Hopi boy being so cruelly treatedy the Navajos. The hawk felt very sorryi: the boy and determined to help him.One day the Navajos left the little boyhind -when they were away somedis-nce to attend a Navajo dance.As soon

they were wellout of sight, the greatawk slipped from his high cliff and

U G U S T , 1 9 3 9

flew to the Navajo camp.He beganfly-ing around in a great spiral, coming eachturn a little closer to the ground. Thelittle Hopi boy was frightened and criedto the hawk not to hurt him. The hawklit close beside the boy and sat downright by him, saying: "I will not hurtyou! You climb on my back and I willcarry you away to my house where theseNavajos will neverbe able to find youagain."

The Hopi boy was delighted andclimbed on the hawk's back, holdingonto its strong feathers with both hands.

The hawk tooka long run, then withgreat strong flapsof his wings, he rosein the air. He flew right over the placewhere the Navajos were having theirdance. They couldsee their formercap-

tive safe on the hawk's back and theywere very much surprised. Theyhadnever expected the hawk to do such athing.

The hawk set the little boy safely onthe top of the cliff, then said to him:"You are cold. I will borrow someclothes for you."

He swooped down uponthe Navajocamp and picked out the son of a greatNavajo chief. The boy was richly clothedin fine buckskins.He picked the Navajoboy up, took his clothes from him andthen dropped him to his frightened par-ents below. He brought the clothes tothe little Hopiboy who pulled themonwith delight.

Then the hawk saw that he had no{Continued on page 27)

17


20/38

Dancing girls from Ponca, Oklahom a

Acoma Buffalo dancers

Na

G&

F ROM hogan and puebloIndian tribesmen will gatceremonial at Gallup,NevThis is the 18th annual pro

sociationsponsored by a civicIndian country in New Mexico.

Early in August the Indianthe desert wildernesstravelinmobiles, all of them looking fothe dancing events and in expvarious tribes is exhibited and

There will be the singing oiApache country, the Butterfly ddancersthese and more than awill range from painted nakedments of the most intricate desig

In the exhibit building natpainting kachinas, weaving bldrawing the delicate lines of th

The Ceremonial this year ithan in previous years. The chapatches was made to avoid the bring to that region the latter parrites are never known far in advfollowing the Gallup fiesta.

With the exception of the sand paistudio of Bradley R. Currey, Burb

Frasher


21/38

Hopi Kachina dancers

very part of the Southwest,gust this year for the annual

-Triba:. Indian Ceremonial as-f leaders in the heart of the

trek from remote corners ofpony, some of them in auto-

ys of friendly rivalry both ine the finest craft work of theerit.n, the Devil dancers from theHopi mesas, the Navajo firebal dancing teams. Costumes

beaded and feathered gar-

ay be seen making pottery,

in silver and turquoise andpaintings.gust 17 to 20, a week earlieras explained in the press dis-which the Hopi snake dancerse the dates of the Hopi snakebly will be held immediatelyaphs on this page are from theSand painting photograph byia.


22/38

Here is a handful of the black obsidian nodules pickedup from the ground at the base of the cliffs where they

are iveathering out of the rock.

LEGEND OF "AP ACHE LEAP"

Sitting at the edge of a cliff high amongtherugged peaks of the land we now know as Ari-zona, an Indian maiden sat with bowed head.The stillness of the evening was broken onlybyconvulsive sobs that came fromthe heart of thebrown-skinned girl.

The tips of the surrounding crags were paintedwith the ruddy glow of the sinking sun. In thedistance "Weaver's Needle" piercedthe sky likea sword of gold, its base hidden amidthe pinna-cles and rocky massifsof the Superstition range.

Far below, the tawny brownsof the desert floorwere givingwa y to the bluish haze of night.But the beauty of this landscape meant nothing

to the Apache girl,for at the base of this precipicela y the broken bodiesof her father, her brothersand the lover she wa s to have married on thefollowing day.

Since dawn she had huddled in this spot,ob-livious to the heat of midday sun, unmindfulofthirst or discomfort, aware onlyof the fact of hertragedy and of the emptiness of the life thatlaybeforeher.

Now the sun was sinking behind the distantrange. She arose and for a moment her figure

was silhouetted againstthe flaming sky. Thenshe plunged forward into spaceto restin peacewith those below.

Thus is told the ancient legendof Apache Leap.

Near Superior, Arizona, John Hilton found greatquantities of black pebbles weatheringout of anancient lava flow. Hilton identifies themas glassyobsidian nodules, sometimes sold underthe nameof "smoky topaz." Accordingto Indian legend,however, they are "tears of stone" shed by sym-pathetic Mother Nature whenan Apache Indianmaiden met a tragic death near this spot. Here'sa story that willbe interesting to gem collectorsand students of Indian lore.

By JOHN W. HILTON

/ A C C O R D I N G to the story the small band of ApachesI / in which her lover and her relatives were traveling

had been ambushedby a war party of enemy tribes-men whofar outnumbered them. They fought valiantly, climb-ing toward the fastnesses of the crags aboveas they retreated.By the time the summit was reached their spears were brokenand their arrows spent.

Capture meant tortureand deathand when suddenly theyfound further retreatcut off by a yawning abyss, they turnedone by one and plunged to the rocks below.

The story goes on to relate that the grief of the youngApache girlwas so profound it affected all nature abouther.Even the mountain was said to have wept at her tragic death.In support of this statement,the Indians point to the count-


Apache Tears


23/38

less numbers of round glassy pebbles thatlie scattered about the base of the moun-tain.

These "tears of stone," as the Indianscall them, appear to be black until theyare held up to the light, and then theybecome surprisingly clear, but tingedwith a fine smoky grey.

My first sight of "Apache Leap" wasearly in the morning. A light wind had

drifted the smelter smoke from Superiorso that the entire m ountain was envelopedin a swirling mass of silver fog. Such asight on the desert is as beautiful as itis unusual. The morning sun shiningthrough this smoke gave it a peculiarlyluminous quality that served to accentu-ate the height and ruggedness of the pin-nacles above.

W e passed the Boyce Thom pson Ar-boremm where so many secrets of desertplant life are being studied and solved.Its setting in a rugged canyon at thebase of the mountain is indeed beautiful

and fitting.As, we came within sight of Superior,we took the dirt road turnoff on theright: of the highway. From the pavingit was a mile to the Underwood ranchwhere we parked our cars to look forthe gem stones we had been told werehere

We saw some of them on the groundalmost as soon as we stepped from ourautomobiles, and as we walked towardthe hills the supply became more plenti-ful. In some places it was impossible towalk without stepping on them.

For years these obsidian nodules havebeen gathered and sold by curio dealersunder the name of Arizona smoky to-paz. This name is as unfortunate as it is

Norton Allen, staff artist for the D esert Mag azine, visited the "Apach e Tear"field and took this picture of his parents, Mr. and M rs. Ernest G. Allen, as they

gathered specimens on the desert near where the obsidian nodules are weatheringout of the cliffs.

misleading for these lovely pebbles ofobsidian are in no way related to topaz.Topaz has a hardness of eight and is acrystalline mineral, whereas these stoneshave a hardness of from five to six andare an amorphous volcanic glass.

It might be well here to clear up someof the misunderstanding that exists re-garding the gem called "smoky topaz."Most of the faceted material sold on themarket today under this name is actually

a dark colored form of quartz crystal. Ithas been sold as "topaz" for so long atime, however, that the trade generallyhas accepted that name for it.

The smoky obsidian we found at thispoint is too soft for facet cutting, buttakes a high polish and makes a ratherpleasing gem in a cabochon cut. Topazitself is seldom if ever found in a darksmoky color and is rarely cut into gems.Personally, I have never seen a true topaz"smoky" enough to deserve the name.

We had not climbed far up the hill-side before we discovered the "tears" areweathering out of a flow of silver grey

volcanic rock. A close examination ofthis rock revealed that it also is volcanicglass. The only essential difference be-tween the nodules and the mother rock

i l l . STOP CARSH t r .4^ .11


24/38

is that the latter is so scaled and fracturedthat the air imprisoned in its cracks giveit a sort of pearly grey appearance.Thesun shining on these scales of obsidianreminds one of the luster of sea shells.

The natural conchoidal fractureof theobsidian probably is responsible for thenearly round shapeof the nodules.Themolten glass appearsto have reachedthesurface under considerable pressure whereit suddenly expandedand cooled, leavinga porous massof fracture scales arrangedin whorls, the centers of which nearlyalways contain solid nodulesof obsidian.We noted that in sections of the flowwhere the fracture pattern is arranged invery small whorls there wereno obsid-ian centers, but where the magma ap-parently cooled more slowlyand thewhorls were larger theyall containedob-sidian pebbles. This slower coolinghadallowed pieces of the glass to becomesolid without breaking.

Many of the weathered stones havearather fine polishdue to action of windand rain and I could not help thinkingwhat fine necklaces couldbe made fromthe stones if they were graduatedanddrilled like pearls.

Toward noon the wind changed, clear-ing the smoke away from the mountainand bringing its rugged beauty into fullview. Some of its pinnacles wouldbe aserious challengeto the most expert rockclimbers. Its scenic beauty will alwaysmake this placean inspiration to artists

and photographers.We found a friendly atmosphereinSuperior. Restaurantsand overnight ac-commodations were fineand the town it-self is an interesting placeto visit. It isan odd combination of the old and thenew. Almost in the shadow of the giantsmoke-plumed chimneyof its modernsmelter are prospectors at work develop-ing their claims withno better equipmentthan was used by the first minerswhocame into this western country.

In the business districtthe mostmod-ern stores and service stationsare flankedin some locationsby old-fashioned build-ings with their high false frontsa relicof the days when Superiorwas a roar-ing silver campand freight teams plod-ded along its dusty streets. Old-timers tellof the glory and excitement of the dayswhen their fathers hauledout ore inwagons, freighting it to the Coloradoriver where it was loaded on barges,floated down to the gulf and shippedbysailing vessel aroundthe Horn to Wales,where it was smelted. Needlessto say,it was no low grade ore such as is the

backbone of the modern mining camp.Itwas high grade "wire"or "ruby silver,"assaying several dollarsto the pound.

A police officer there toldme the

The black nodules are "ApacheTears'' as they occur in their matrix

of pearl obsidian.

story of a freight driver who was haul-ing some of this rich silver ore to theriver. He was overtaken by a party ofemigrants who, out of curiosity, inquiredas to the nature of the ore. For answer,

the driver slowly drewa silver dollarfrom his pocket and flippedit in the air."That's whatshe be, boys! All it needs

is the U. S. stamp."It was sunset when we returned past

Apache Leap. Smoke fromthe smelterhung about it again, but this time itwas gold. High up on a lofty peak Ithought I could see the figure of a loneIndian girl, poised on the brink of acliff. But she remained immovableaslong as we were in sightjust a trick ofthe sunlight and shadows, and perhaps

a bit of imagination inspiredby the leg-end that had been told to me.

HardRock Shortyof . . .

DeathValleyBy LON GARRISON

"Rheumatics?" asked Hard RockShorty. "Naw, I just been out im-itatin' this guy Newton whatin-vented aviation by gettin' hit onthe head with a green apple.An'by gum I got just what any guyhad ought'o get who goes stickin'his nose in other guys' businesseshelpin' 'em out!"

He creaked acrossthe porchandlowered himself stiffly and pain-fully into the rocking chair.

"Jimminy, I'm sore!" he moaned."Hurts to stand up, lay down, setdown, or roll over. An' it's all be-cause I offered to help JimmyJen-kins get some stuff up to his Goph-er Hole mine shaft. He'd somepicks, drills, and hammers hewanted histed 20 feet up the faceof a cliff, an' it was gonna be hardwork luggin'ail that junk up a lad-

der. So we rigged a pulley up at thetunnel, an' loaded the stuff in apowder box. I was to stay at thebottom an' pull the box up for Jim-

my to catch an' unload at the top."I started liftin' the first load.It

was durn near as heavy as I was,but it went along fine 'til it gotclear at the top.

' 'Hold 'er a minute while Iclear a place to set it,' yells Jimmy.

"I took a couple o' turns aroundmy wrist with the rope, an' thatproved to be a mistake. Jimmy

reached for the box, slipped, an'fell right in the blamed thing. Wellsir, that was somethin' else again!

"I couldn't let goI was justyanked up in the air, spun arounda dozen times,an' bounced all overthe rocks on the way up. As Ipassed Jimmyhe kicked me in thestummick, an' one o' the picks tooka yard o' hide off o' my shin. I hitthe wall one more good lick justafore I run my hand into the block.I figgered I was stuck, but I didn'tknow Jimmy.

"When the box hit the ground,Jimmy fell out, the box bustedopen, an' all the tools slid out too.Then I was heavier'n the box an'I started the return trip in highgear. On the way down I met theremains o' the box goin' up, an'that's when I lost the rest o' theskin off o' my face. I slid over afew more sandpaper rocks,an' thenhit the ground so hard I bouncedtwice. Then durned if that ropedidn't jiggle looseoff o' my wrist,an ' the rest o' the box come back

down an' hit me on the head!"Yupme an' Newton learnthesame way, an' I'l l bet you by gumthat I stay learned!"



25/38

' COOPERATION1

' Photo by Wm. M. Pennington

reel on tke. l/elett

By JOHN STEWART MacCLARY

Labor disputes and board-of-trade manipulations do not affect the priceof bread in Zuni. Each housewife serves as miller and baker for her personalfamily, completely controlling the destiny of grain which has been cultivated,harvested and threshed by her menfolks and children.

While each is competent to handle the complete milling process withoutassistance, the Zuni women have found the efficiency that comes from work-ing together. It may be the milling room has a socializing influence similar tothat of the bridge clubs of white American ladies. After allwhere there areneither newspapers, radios nor telephonesthere must be some method forspreading the news of the day.

The stone manos and metates used by these women may be the sameones described by Coronado's publicity man Castenada. Who knows? Atleast the method of using them is the same just as it must have been amongthe cliff dwellers whose similar utensils are found beneath the dust of ages.

Man may not live on bread alonelong, long time!

-but he seems to have been using it a

A U G U S T , 1 9 3 9 23


26/38

Brush dwelling usedby the Cahu illa Indians in Santa Rosa m ountains. Photo by E. B. Gray studio, Idyllwild.

Whence Came the CahuillasThey ar e not as pic turesque perhapsa s some of the t r ibesmen in otherdesert regions,but the Cahui l la Indiansare nevertheless industr ious farmersand good c i t izensand have acceptedth e constant crowdingof the whitem anwith amazing tolerance.In the accompanying s tory Ruth Pascoeh as given abrief story of the background of an Indian peoplewh o once occupied SouthernCalifornia from th e Colorado r iverto the Pacific ocean.

" 11/ E have been here always!" This\/\/ tf> the reply I invariably receive

when I ask older membersofthe Cahuilla Indian tribeof SouthernCalifornia as to the length of time theirpeople have occupied this region. Accord-ing to historians and ethnologists theymay be rightor theymay be wrong.

It is difficult to get a complete storyfrom an Indian. Years are consumed ingathering it. I had taken for granted thatwhen a Cahuilla Indian saidhe had beenhere always,he meant in that particularsection of land which compriseshis pres-ent reservation. Only yesterdayI was in-formed, at Cahuilla, of the distance trav-

eled by some of these Indians in theiryouth. One had been baptized at SantaBarbara and another had been broughtasa bride from the hills near Corona.Yet

By RUTH MARTIN PASCOE

both were of this same tribe. With thisunderstanding, I now can see how little

variation there is between the storiesofthe Indians and of the ethnologists.The reservation of the MountainCa-

huilla Indians is a dry rolling valley,ly-ing betweenthe San Jacintoand the SantaRosa mountains of Southern California.It is semi-desert countrybut it is suppliedwith water by both hot and cold springs.Here the fields and meadows are pro-tected from the encroachmentof distanthigh peaks by Cahuilla mountain itself,on whose rocky facethe sun casts its hotrays and the clouds drop their darkeningshadows. Beneath it rests the age-old

home of these Indians.Few changes havetaken place here sincethe coming of thefirst whitemen in 1774-1776, whenCap-tain Juan Bautista de Anza and that

missionary beloved by Indians, FrayFrancisco Garces followedthe trail up

San Carlos passand found the CahuillaIndians livingin rocky cavesin the hills.Now they occupy small frame housesonthe knolls of these same hillsand thereI have visited them often. Even thosemembers of the tribe who have goneoutinto our world return gratefullyto thispeaceful homeof their ancestors.

The other day my Cahuilla friendCin-ciona Lubo was visiting me in the SanJacinto mountains. We were pickingacorns for the Indians, who consider thesenuts a delicacy. Cinciona saidher peoplehad come hereto gather acornsfor many

generations. They felt these mountainsbelonged to them. When we took herpicture picking acorns, Cinciona said,"No Indian woman usedto carry a bur-



27/38

lap sack to hold her acorns. She wove ahammock (carrying net), to carry overher shoulder as she picked. But she diduse a basket like this of my Aunt Nina's,which she filled first."

It is through Cinciona that I havecome close to the lives of her people. Sheinterprets not only their language buttheir thoughts and feelings. Cinciona,born an Indian and educated at Sher-man institute, has lived much of her lifeamong white people. Her amazing intu-ition and unfailing good humor permither to fit into white or Indian role withequal ease.

Though these Indians always have beenextremely poor, they would prefer tolive and die on this land of their ances-tors and trust nature to provide for them,than to exchange it for any wealth thewhite man might offer.

Of course some of the earlier Indians

may be blamed for losing their land.They were not shrewd enough to dealwith invaders who would trade themseven cows for a whole mountain.

That the ancient Cahuillas roamed theentire San Jacinto mountain area is evi-denced by petroglyphs and grinding holesfound frequently today. Many of theirlegends are woven around San Jacintoand Tahquitz.

According to Dr. David Prescott Bar-rows in "The Ethno-Botany of the Cahu-illa Indians," this tribe "once controlledSouthern California from the Coloradoriver westward to the Pacific sea."

In "The Handbook of the AmericanIndians North of Mexico," compiled in1907-1910 by Frederick Webb Hodge,now director of the Southwest Museumat Los Angeles, information concerningthis tribe is found under the name Kawai.Dr. Hodge says there have been changesin the spelling of the name Cahuilla.

To study the genealogy of any familyit is necessary to watch the change inspelling of that family name back throughthe records. The Cahuillas were called

Danzarines by Fray Garces, because ofthe odd gestures of their hands when theytalked. These mannerisms are noticeabletoday during ceremonials, as an accom-paniment to the dancing movements oftheir feet. Another name for the Cahuillaswas told Garces by his guide. It is theMojave name ]ecuich. However, Ca-huilla is now generally adopted. Thisword is of uncertain origin. It is said tobe a Spanish version of Kawika (west-ward, literally mountainward) in A. L.Kroeber's "Ethnography of the CahuillaIndians."

Most authorities agree in listing threedivisions of the Cahuilla Indians ofSouthern California, living in these statedlocalities:

(1 ) Moun tain Cahuilla, in the moun-

' - *

I

Cinciona Lubo gathers acorns in the Sa n Jacinto mountains as her ancestors havedone for manygenerations except that they used fibre carrying-nets of their ownweave, instead of gunny sacks. Photo by E. B. Gray, Idylhvild.

tains and canyons surrounding San Ja-cinto peak.

(2 ) Pass Cahuilla, in San Gorgo niopass and at Palm Springs.

(3 ) Desert Cahuilla between Indioand the Salton Sea.

In the late summer when the Indianshold a rodeo at one of their mountain res-ervations, it is possible to see represen-tatives of all three groups. It is also evi-dent some of these Indians have traveled

a long distance. They come prepared toremain for a week in the brush huts,which they weave, in the shelter of Ca-huilla mountain.

Although the three groups of the Ca-

huillas have some difference in dialect,the members of one group understandthose of another. Their language is Sho-shonean in origin.

All of these Shoshonean tribes aremembers of a more ancient family called"Uto-Aztekan" by Hodge, Kroeber, andother authorities. Dr. Hodge says, "Theirhabitat extended almost from the Canadi-an border to southern Mexico." Dr.Kroeber tells us that this association ofShoshoneans in California "opens a farperspective. The lowly desert tribes andsimple-minded folk of the southern coastare seen in a new light as kinsmen, how-ever remote, of the famous Aztecs."

Among primitive desert peoples there

A U G U S T , 1 9 3 9 25


28/38

was constant migration,due to climaticconditions and the ceaseless search forwater and food. The Cahuillas werenoexception, hence in any general move-ment one group, of necessity, had someintercourse with the others. In August,when the pinon nuts of the mountainregions ripened, and later when acornsfell, the Cahuillas moved up there for

the purpose of gathering their winter'ssupply of nuts. Wh en it was time to visitthe desert to gather mesquite beans,aswell as cactus fruit, the Cahuillas werefree to go. Charles Francis Saunders tellsus almos

Documents

193908 Desert Magazine 1939 August