195303 Desert Magazine 1953 March

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S E N S A T I O N A L L Y N E W F R E E 5 6 P A G E F A L L C A T A L O GThis unique catalog is 8V6"xll" in size. It is profuselyillustrated with pictures of almost all items offered, Yourshopping will be made easy order by mail or visitour shop to select your gifts. This catalog lists GemCutting Equipment, Grinding Wheels, Diamond Blades,Sanding Cloth, and Polishing Powders, Jewelry MakingTools, Sterling Silver Sheet and Wire, Blank RingMountings, Jewelry Findings such as Earwires,

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D E S E R T C A L E ND A RFeb. 28-Mar. I- All-Indian Festival,State Fairgrounds, Phoenix. Ariz.Feb. 28-Mar. 8Calif. Mid-WinterFair, Imperial, Calif.Mar. 1-31 Exhibit of OrphaKlinker's paintings of Californialandmarks and portraits of pioneers.Southwest Museum, Highland Park.Los Angeles, Calif.Mar. 6, 13, 20, 27Yaqui IndianWay of the Cross, Lenten proces-sions, Pascua Village near Tucson.Ariz.Mar. 7-8 Saguaro State KennelClub's Annual All Breed ' DogShow and Obedience ["rials. Phoe-nix, Ariz.Mar. 7-8So. Calif. Chapter SierraClub hike down Grapevine Canyonin Santa Rosa Mts.Mar. 8 Fourth Annual AlmondBlossom Festival. Quartz Hill, Calif.Mar. 8Desert Sun Ranchers Rodeo.

Slash Bar K Ranch. Wickenburg,Ariz.Mar. 8Dons Club Superstition Mts.lost gold trek, to hunt the LostDutchman Mine. From Phoenix,Ariz.Mar. 14-15Natural Science Section.So. Calif. Chapter Sierra Clubcamping trip to Magnesia SpringsCanyon, Rancho Mirage, Calif.Mar. 14-15Second Annual DesertRockhounds Fair, Riverside CountyFair Grounds. Indio, Calif.Mar. 15Desert Sun Ranchers Ro-deo. Remuda Ranch, Wickenburg,Ariz.Mar. 15-21National Wildlife Week.Mar. 19Ceremonial Dance, LagunaPueblo near Santa Fe. N. M.Mar. 20-22 Jaycee World Cham-pionship Rodeo, Arizona StateFairgrounds, Phoenix.Ma r 21 Diamond Jubilee DanceFestival, Mesa, Ariz.Mar. 21-22 Desert Peaks Section.Sierra Club climb of Queens Mt.and Lost Horse Mt. in Joshua TreeNational Monument.Mar. 22Dons Club Trek to SanCarlos Indian reservation. FromPhoenix. Ariz.Mar. 22Bandollero Tour to Agua

Caliente. From Yuma, Ariz.Mar. 26-27Quarter Horse BreedersConvention, Tucson, Ariz.Mar. 26-28Jaycees Rawhide Round-up, Mesa, Ariz.Mar. 28Saddle Club Horse Show.Equestrinada, Wickenburg. Ariz.Mar. 28-29Natural Science Section,So . Calif. Chapter Sierra Club tripto Fern and Andreas canyons nearPalm Springs, Calif.Mar. 28-29 Dons Club overnighttrek to Grand Canyon. FromPhoenix, Ariz.Mar. 29-30 Quarter Horse Show.Rodeo Grounds, Tucson. Ariz.Mar. 30-Apr. 5Sierra Club Eastertrip to Colorado River country.Lake Mead, Valley of Fire. DeathValley.

M A R C H . 1953 N u m b e r 3C O V E RCALENDARPOETRYFIELD TRIPB O T A N YC O N T E S TP H O T O G R A P H YH ISTO RYPRIZESMININGEXPERIENCELO ST MINEDESERT QUIZW A T E RW I L D F L O W E R SCLO SE-UP SLETTERSFICTIONN E W SH O BBYLAP IDARYC O M M E N TB O O K S

I n h o s p i t a b l e L a n d , by C h u c k A b b o t to f T u c so n , A r i z o n aM a r c h e v e n t s on the d e s e r t 3N i g h t B l o o m i n g C e r e u s , and o t h e r p o e m s . . . 4G h o s t T o w n P r o s p e c t o rB y JAY E L L I S R A N S O M 5Lilies of K i n g s t o n P a s s

B y R I C H A R D F. L O G A N 10Anothe r L i fe -on- the -Dese r t con tes t for w r i t e r s . 12P i c t u r e s of the M o n t h 14W h e r e H u n g r y B ill O n c e L i v edBy RUTH E. KIRK 15A n n o u n c e m e n t for p h o t o g r a p h e r s 18C u r r e n t n e w s of d e s e r t m i n e s 19Life on the D e se r t , by EDITH O. N E W B Y . . . 20G o l d B e h i n d a W a t e r f a l l

B y G L A D W E L L R I C H A R D S O N 22A test of y o u r d e s e r t k n o w l e d g e 24P r e d i c t i o n s of S o u t h w e s t w a t e r s u p p l i e s . . . 25F o r e c a s t for M a r c h 26A b o u t t h o s e wh o wri t e for D e se r t 26C o m m e n t f r o m D e s e r t ' s r e a d e r s 27H a r d R o c k S h o r t y of D e a t h V a l l e y 28F r o m H e r e and T h e r e on the d e s e r t 29G e m s and M i n e r a l s 35A m a t e u r Gem Cut te r , by LELANDE QUICK . . 41Ju s t B e t w e e n You and Me, by the Editor . . . 42R e v i e w s of S o u t h w e s t e r n l i t e r a t u r e 43

The Desert Magazine la 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. 358S65 in U. S. Patent Office,and contents copyrighted 1953 by the Desert Press, Inc. Permission to reproduce contentsmust be secured from the editor in writing.RANDALL HENDERSON, EditorBESS STACY, Business Manager

MARGARET GERKE, Associate EditorMARTIN MORAN, Circulation ManagerUnsolicited manuscripts 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 Veai- $3.5(1 Two Years S6.00Canadian Subscriptions 25c Extra, Foreign 50c ExtraSubscriptions to Army Personnel Outside TJ. S. A. Must Be Mailed in Conformity WithP. O. D. Order No. 19687

Address Correspondence to Desert Magazine, Palm Desert, CaliforniaM A R C H , 1953


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Night b looming cereus pho tograph by Ivan B. M ar d is .DESERT MUSICBy HAZEL PHILIPS TREIBLEInglewood, CaliforniaIf you listen, really listenOn a silver moon-kissed night,You may hear faint desert-musicFrom theYucca bells of whiteThat are rung by playful breezesSwaying every waxen flower,Playing eerie, elfin love-songsAt enchanted midnrght hour.You may hear the sleepy twittersFloating through the scented air.Of the cactus-wren's wee babiesWho are safely cradled there.Or the coyote's minor music

Stirring chords of swooping batRattler's castanets of dangerStaccato footsteps of the rat.All these night-tones of the desertBlended, make a melodyHeard by those who love to listenTo this desert symphony.

T IMEBy TANYA SOUTH

How many ages old these hillsThat rose but "yesterday"! Mind fillsTo overwhelming with thevastFar reaches of an endless Past,And with that vast, that fartheststretchThat all Eternity can sketch!Endless to us! To God 'tis butA Moment's thought.

AP RICO T MALLO WBy LYDIA BOWENPasadena, CaliforniaThere must be falls of sunset flakesTo make thedesert flower.Her sudde.n :lighted fairy flaresCould not be heritage, alone,Of sand and vagrant shower.

I'd like to see a sunset stormSwirl rainbows down the gloom;And scatter their most witching goldIn petal flakes on desert's gray,To make the mallow bloom.PLEA OF THE DESERT

By FEE CLIFFORD EBTEBPhoenix, ArizonaForsake me not, nor chafe me with roughhandsKeep mewith loving careAnd these, my sands,To you my love shall bear.Defile me not; enjoy each fragrant lair,And these will bind your heart with tenderbands.Mind every rock; each stone, in its set place;Loot not my house, nor yet despoil myfaceMake pledge with me, and I'll return yourgrace.So be my honored guestAnd throughout my domainPursue your questContinue so, and so my guest remain.

N i g h t B l o o m i n g C e r e u sBy BESSIE BERGRio Linda, California

Hand-maiden of the Moon,The pale, sweet radiance of a faceSo delicate as yours befits the night'sCool gloom, to light some sweetly shadowedplace!Nature's lush chemistryConspires in fragrant lure.Crescendo of sweet odor symphony;Impelling trail of romance, yet demure.All in one moon-veiled nightYour love is spent; its ecstacyWell worth the costSun's hot and angryblight.The waxy blossom's closed; soul lost inperfumed flight!

DESERT CATHEDRALBy RENA OAKLEY LEWISRoseburg, OregonIt's a place of solemn grandeurWhere, as far as you ran see.

There is not a fence or dwelling.No t a rosebush or a tree;Where thehills are rough and jaggedHeaps of varicolored stone;It's like a vast cathedralJust for God and you alone.The altar is a mountain topWith altar cloth of whiteOften bathed in golden gloryBy the evening sunset light.Here thecares of life are lifted,Like thebirds above, you're free.Here t-hehours and the minutesBlend with eternity.Here the stars trip by on tiptoe

All through thedesert nightAnd leave behind at dawningThe yucca's candle light.Here God speaks in thunderous silenceAnd in the whispering of the sand.Here he who treads thedesert floorTreads the hollow of God's hand.DESERT SUNRISE

By DORIS BLAISDELL BARNUMWestfield, NewJerseyN o . wind, no sun, no insect sound.Soft air, soft earth, soft light, aroundThe vast expanse of dawn-tit plain.As one low star now seems to gainNew brilliance over mountain peaksWhose jagged heights the first glow seeks.Across themesa dimmed by nightSteal shadows of the day's new light.Red earth, the sage an olive green.A yucca's brittle stem now seenAs white and fragile, holding highIts faded blossoms toward the sky.The distant mountains, misted blue.Now deepen to a purple hueOutlined in silver, as the paleAnd luminous sunrise draws a veilOf gentle colors through the sky.A lonely rose-tipped cloud floats high.A soft breeze feathers through the sand.One small bird voice makes its demandTo break thesilence of the dawn.Sweetness of night and stars isgoneAs glowing sky now holds the sun.Thus, out of time, a day has come.

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Ear l E . Ta te , M ayo r and on ly r es iden t o f Rawhide , Ar izon a . These ar e the t i reswhich give him two thou san d miles ' service arou nd Rawhide . "Bu t i f I 'd wa n te dpaveme n t , I 'd have l e f t her e yea rs ago an d gon e to Los Ange le s ."Ghost Town Prospector

Lone resident of an Arizona ghost mining camp. Earl Tate spendshis days prospecting the hills where gold, silver, copper and man-ganese are foundor doing assessment work on his claims. Here isthe story of a man who has found enjoyment and health in a remotesector of Arizona where the roads are too rough for tourist travel.

By JAY ELLIS RANSOMPhotographs by the authorMap by Norton Allen

7HE OLD mining camp of Raw-hide, Arizona, was our destina-tion. We had left U. S. High-way 60-70 at Wenden and had drivendue north toward the low saddle ofCunningham Pass in the Harcuvarrange."'A hundred and ten in the shade,"my Dad remarked as we left Wenden.It was mid-sum mer. Our foreheadsdripped and the engine boiled as we

M A R C H , 1 9 5 3

climbed the grade toward the pass.Our route was the county-gradeddirt road which winds deviously for40 miles to the old crossing of theBill Williams River at Alamo. Therewe forded the shallow river to enterhistoric country, for, nearly a centuryago, the freighting road from CaptainAubrey^ landing at the junction ofthe Bill Williams with the Coloradocame this way over the barren saguaro

. .

desert to Signal, past Artillery Peakand thence to Prcscott.At Alamo, very small but the mainsettlement in the 120 miles betweenWenden and Kingman, we found thefirst real indication of the highly min-eral character of the country. On theflank of rimrock behind a cluster ofjaded shacks we saw the sloping roofsof a mill. In operation during the lastwar, it now idly awaits the custom orethat rarely come s. I asked the firstold-timer we met about it."Sure, that's Jim Rogers' mill forthe Little Kimball Mine five miles backin the hills," he explained. Then go-ing on m pithy statements he told howthis mine had been opened in 1868for gold and copper. "It's got two100-foot shafts and about 1400 feetof drifts and stopes." the old-timer


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'--'"Vi^'fjlcCracfcenPeak

added. "Last feller operated it in 1941without permission of the owner. Justup and moved in, mined a short while,and moved out with better'n $12,000in gold. That's how rich it is150to 200 dollars a ton."A few miles above Alamo the roadforks at what is locally known as theR. C. Phipps' Junctionnamed forthe old prospeator who lives off to theeast a short distance. Three and a halfmiles northwest of this desert markerwe reached Rawhide.

This old mining camp is just as rawas its name. At present it would be a

complete ghost town except for its oneresident, Earl W. Tatemayor, chiefof police, judge, jury, and city council.Tate simply moved in and preempteda cabin. The land, including the town-site of Rawhide, is owned by ClydeCoffer who laid claim to the districtin 1890 and hasn't bothered muchwith its still rich but non-producingsilver mines since.Earl welcomed us with a loud hal-loo as we pulled to a dusty stop be-tween the two shacks that comprisethe community. Standing on a hill ahundred yards south of town with acommanding view of the desert. Earl's

house is "still within the city limits,"as he said. It was from his widescreened front porch that he belloweddown, "Come on up. The road'smarked."Sure enough, we saw a hand-paintedsign: 'RAWHIDE. Queen City ofArizona.""As mayor of the Queen City ofArizona, I welcome you," Earl boomedas we shook hands. "I might add,"he grinned, "you're the first visitorsthrough these parts in so long 1 can'trightly remember when the last onescame. You folks like some cool freshice water?"From a modern butane refrigerator,this up-and-coming old-timer servedthe most delicious ice-cubed water inall Arizona. And believe me, afteryou've sweated through that 50-milesof jackrabbit trail from Wenden, evenalkali water would have seemed likenectar!"Practically all the old prospectorsaround these diggings have gone mod-ern with gas ranges, refrigerators, evenheaters in winter," Earl explained."Sure ain't like it used to be when Icame here years ago."Rawhide, Arizona to distinguishit from its livelier and better knownsister in Nevadawas discovered be-fore Tombstone, in 1868, along withnearby McCracken. In the 'seventiesRawhide was operated largely bycatch-as-catch-can miners. Singly orin small groups, these hardy soulspassed through the country, eitherfrom Phoenix or Prescott bound forCalifornia, or vice versa. Some ofthem, no doubt, were men who hadcome West to escape the law. It wasnot often that a peace officer venturedinto this remote section of the Arizonadesert.

The main tunnels of Rawhide wereopened by these transient characters,desperate for quick and ready wealth.Since the ore has always been high-grade stuff, found mostly in pockets,the miners worked until they hadenough to satisfy their needs, thenmoved on. Most of them never re-turned.

In the early days, Anglo-Americansplayed less important roles in ArizonaTerritory than did the wild Apaches,the Utes and the ever-warring Nava-jos. Because of raids on stock andwagon trains, the U. S. Army sentsoldiers out to garrison Kingman.Prescott, and Yumathen the headof navigation on the Colorado River.It was raw wild Indian-infested coun-try inhabited mostly by jackrabbits.coyotes, mule deer and tarantulas.

Since the only all-year water andgrass were found along the Bill Wil-D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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Rawhide, Arizona s il v e r-go ld -copper -man gan e s e c e n t e r o f t h e west e r n pa r t o f t h es t a t e .liams River, the Army decided to es-tablish a landing at its mouth andbuild a freight road up the river tosupply Prescott and other inland gar-risons. Captain Aubrey was sent outto do this job, and with light-draughtcargo boats bringing supplies up theColorado from Yuma, ox teams weresoon crawling over the tortuous trail,winding in and out of gorges and can-yons, and dodging Indians along theonly passable route in this inhospitabledesert.

Sitting comfortably on Earl's frontporch, looking out over the far desertto the distant Maria Mountains, wesipped ice water and were refreshedby the cool breeze which had sprungup. Earl pointed toward the north-east, leading our eyes up across sa-guaro, mesquite and ironwood to wherea broad sloping mesa rose toward thenorth, cut with arroyos and barrancas,and faced with sheer rhyolite cliffs."The old ox road cut away fromthe river about here," he said, "andclimbed straight up over that mesa.That's all rich manganese country,and the Bureau of Mines is operatingwhat they hope will be the largestmanganese mine in the country fivemiles north of here."

His eyes twinkled as he remarked:"I've got manganese and carnotiteclaims right near here that I'll sell you

for five do llars to five million. Ta keyour pick."Not daunted by our lack of enthusi-asm, Earl continued; "Or, if you wantto stake a claim for yourself, I'll takeyou out and show you all the goodground you want. W on't cost a dime.Been wanting to get out and stretchmy legs a bit, anyway."

Around Rawhide one can pick upfine blue-green specimens of a richcopper-silver ore from the surround-ing dumps, now pretty well grown upwith mesquite and ironwood . Rawore of considerable cash value may behad for the taking."A feller stayed here 40 days," Earlreminisced, "hand-picking over oneold dump. He took out nine tons of orethat averaged better than 500 ouncesof silver to the ton. No t bad for justa casual prospector."

I wanted to get some photographsof the old workings. "Ta ke that theretrail out back of my cabin," Earl di-rected me. "She leads right smack tothe richest diggings of them all."The trail was plain in the blazingsun, scrabbled with rocks and gravel,buttressed on each side by scrawnymesquite. Lizards and tarantulas hidout in the shadows, and I would nothave been surprised to see a Gilamonster waddle along the ground.

Earl elaborated somewhat. "If youwant to go up to the top of RawhideButte there," he suggested, pointingto the nearest hump on the landscape,"you'll find it just a hollow rhyoliteshell. The early miners bored into thebase and stoped upward until theycompletely gutted it. Guess nobodyever thought to bore downward. Maybe millions leftwho knows?"

I had half a mind to try scaling thebutte, Speed Graphic and tripod not-withstanding, but by the time I reachedthe lower workings in the 110-degreeheatwith no vestige of shadeI hadenough. Panting and as thirsty as oneof old Captain Aubrey's ploddingoxen, I stopped and took a breather.The view in all directions was impres-sive, the mountains rising in pastellayers from the Buckskins southwestto Artillery Peak north. Sun bakedaridity was its chief characteristic.Even the breeze that curled lazilyaround the butte and riffled the mes-quite below seemed listless and tired.

Artillery Peak has an interesting his-tory. When Aubrey punched his oxteams up the Bill Williams to the stop-over station of Signal, he traveled partof the way along the base of this land-mark. Indians continually besiegedthe trail, and to protect the doughtycaptain's men as well as the suppliesM A R C H , 1 9 5 3


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vitally necessary to the frontier posts,soldiers were sent to Signal.Thinking they could better com-mand the approaches to the peak fromits craggy summit, a detachment hauleda stout cannon up its almost perpen-dicular sides. Looking up I wonderedhow the feat had been possible; butby grunt and by heave, they succeeded.From this expedition came the nameArtillery Peak.Inevitably a battle ensued. A warparty of Utes out for gain and glorycrept up the ox trail to the base of thepeak, probably not knowing the can-non was ther e. It was fired almost atpoint blank range into the warriors,killing a great number of Utes with apowerful charge of grape shot. In theireagerness to finish off the rest of theredskins the powdermen loaded toomuch of the black explosive behindtheir charge. As the cannon dis-charged, it back-fired, killing almostas many American soldiers as Indians.The episode brought consternation toboth sides, and the Indian warfarecame to an end temporarily.Around the base of Rawhide Butte,

where the shafts and short tunnelserupt from the mountainside ontosmall dumps, I found variegated spe-cimens obviously rich in copper andsilver. The blue-green color resemblesazurite, and I suspected that the largerpieces might take a good polish. Someof the specimens with clearly definedstringers of pure gold do polish nicely,for I saw some on display in a rockshop in Salome a short distance westof Wenden.An abundance of quartz and quartz-ite is found in much of the regionfloat that could lead to new discover-ies. Down in Mississippi Wash to thesouthwest I found several cabbage-size samples of jasper lying loose inthe stream be d. A large deposit ofgood grade jasper, or rather a jasp-agate containing specular iron, lies inRawhide's immediate vicinity. EarlTate is quite willing to show visitingrockhounds how to find it.Besides being good gold-silver-cop-per hunting ground, the district northof Rawhide, extending in an east-westdirection for about 20 miles, is saidto have the largest deposit of high-

grade manganese in America."It's been diamond drilled for 16miles," Earl observed, "and men arestill on the lookout for richer depositsthey think may be found."Of course," he smiled modestly,"all us old-timers have staked outwhat we think are the best bets. But,you know, many claims lapse every

year for lack of assessment. W e'renot so strong as we once were, 40, 50years ago. Takes a pretty stout manin this country to swamp out a roadand put down a legitimate prospecthole."I checked on the manganese depos-its in a mining bulletin. Lying in aU-shaped formation covering approxi-mately 25 square miles between theArtillery Mountains and the RawhideMountains, the richest outcroppingsface the northeast side, six to ten milesfrom Alam o Crossing. The major

drawback to its development is the 50miles of rough desert road to the near-est shipping centers of Congress Junc-tion or Aguila.The principa l de posits and Earldrove us out to one where he had

B a ck o f t h e l ig ht t ru ck is o n e o f t he ma n y o u t c r o p pi n g s o f ma n g a n e s e f o u n d i n t h eRa w h id e a r e a .

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E ar l T a t e l o ca t e s a mangan e s e c l a im l o ca t i o n mon ume n t i n c e n t e r , w ith n o t i ceo f l o ca t i o n i n h i s hand. One copy o f t h is wi ll g o in th e monu men t , a n d a n o th e rcopy t o t he co u n t y c l e rk .staked a claimare part of a sequenceof alluvial fan and playa material,probably of Pliocene age laid downin a fault basin.The manganiferous beds make uptwo zones from 750 to 1000 feet apartvertically, each from 300 to 400 feetthick, distinguished in a predominantlyred sandstone region by a dull blackcolor like graphite. The main orupper zone crops out on the surfacein whole acres of hard black rock sothat one, visiting it, could not possiblymiss pay dirt. There are three kindsof ore; sandstone, clay and "hard"ore, the last being richest, with anaverage of six to seven percent man-ganese. About fifteen million tonshave been blocked out, of which ahalf million runs 15 per cent man-ganes e. Alto geth er, the district is es-timated to contain an assured minimumof 200,000,000 tons of ore averagingthree to four percent manganese.

Riding with Earl Tate in his an-tique jalopy was an experience forthe books. "I get a couple thousandmiles out of a set of tires," he said.

"But if I wanted pavement, I'd haveleft here years ago and gone to LosAngeles. One thing I admire mostabout Rawhide is it ain't always clut-tered up with women in slacks."The roads of the whole area runthrough highly mineralized countrymaking prospecting fairly convenientsince deposits of manganese can beseen on top of the ground from a great

distance."Of course, a burro in this game isa man's best friend," Earl remarkeddryly. "A nd if you can't round up aburro, a good substitute is a Model AFo rd. I've driven my truck over somemighty tough roads around here.Whenever I pass a bunch of wildburrosthey fill the night air withtheir goldarned brayingI've watchedthem cock their heads to one side,eyeing me and my truck as much asto say. 'Thank heaven for a Model A the burro 's salvation. ' "The roads in this area are passable but not good. Mo torists going intothis part of Arizona should be well

equipped with water and gas and othersupplies, including shovel and axe.For here, one is far from the mainhighway and entirely on his own re-sources.Not so long ago several Bureau ofMines men stopped over in Rawhidefor a month, camping in one of theopen -air cabins free of charg e. An y-one can do this, although the occa-sional visitor who plans to spend thewinteras one couple I know doeseach year-may rent a cabin in Alamofor a song, say five dollars a month,payable to the nearest old-timer. Theavailable cabins are in good conditionfor free-and-easy camping. Wintersare mild and delightful, healthy beyonddescribing for those who have theleisure to enjoy them."Probably you won't believe it,"Earl Tate said to us as we bade himgoodbye, "but most of the old-timersyou've seen out this way are past 75years of age. That's what this coun-try does for a manmakes him growright back to his youth again."

M A R C H , 1 9 5 3


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reported the road was in passable con-dition and that cars occasionally usedit. We headed east on a surfaced roadwhich climbed gradually through oldlake-bed sediments now being dis-sected into badlands by the gulliestributary to the Am argosa. It is abarren country, almost devoid, of vege-tation . A few miles to the east, thepavement ended at the mining campof Old Tecopa, located in a gap ina north-south ridge. Beyond, weemerged at the foot of a great bajadaor alluvial fan at the foot of the Kings-ton Mountains, visible as a jaggedsilhouette against the eastern skyline.As we climbed gradually up theslope, a progressive change in thevegetation was observed. To the sim-ple assemblage of creosote bush (Lar -r e a t r ide n t a t a var. g l u t i n o s a ) and bur-roweed (F r an s e r i a dumos a ) near OldTecopa were soon added Mormon tea(Ephedra), desert cassia (Cass ia ar -i n a t a ) and pencil cactus (Opun t i aramosissima). Higher up the bajada.the bushes grew closer together andtaller. Near the moun tain foot, shortMojave yucca (Yucca mohavens is )rose above the surrounding shrubs.and many new species made their ap-pearance. Among them were Mojaveaster (As ter aba tus ) , Incense bush(E nce l i a f a r i n o s a ) and the evil smell-ing turpentine broom (Thamnos mam o n t a n a ) with its peculiar fruit, re-sembling miniature oranges and indi-cating thereby its close kinship to thecitrus.

At the head of the fan, the one-track road entered a canyon slashedinto the side of the King stons. For ahalf-mile we proceeded up this can-yon, the road sometimes followingthe stream bed, but more often cuttinginto the loose material that had fallenfrom the north wall.Then, suddenly, Mary Beal ex-claimed "There they are!" pointing atthe south wall of the can yon. And

there, far above us. we sighted thetall, creamy-white blossoms of the no-linas. Magnificent they were, a gigan-tic bouquet of wild lilies, of startlingbeauty amidst the drab shrubs andthe barren rocks.After jockeying the car off the road.we all scrambled down into the streambed and climbed the several hundredfeet of steep hillside to the plants,with only hurried glances for the col-orful patches of blooming annuals onthe way.There are only a few of them a

dozen or sogrowing in a little sidegully in the wall of the main canyon.Many more, Mary Beal informed us.grow in other similar situations on

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mu l t i t ud e o f b uds a nd par t l y - op e n ed f l ower s o n a n o l i n a , when s e e nfrom c lo s e ran ge , have the appeara nce o f a head o f brocco l i . They dif fer ,however , in the ir waxy whi t eness and in the grea t s iz e o f the f l ower c lus t er .nearby slopes. Each plant consists ofa short stout trunk, five to seven feetin height. From its top, the leavesradiate out in all directions, forminga bushy rosette. The leaves are dark-green and average four feet in lengthbut only about one-half inch in width.This gives them a grass-like appear-ancebut the grassy quality disap-pears instantly upon physical contact.For they are stiff, armed with sharpteeth and tipped with dagger points.As the leaves die, they droop fromtheir bases, eventually surrounding thetrunk with a shaggyness like that of aJoshua tree or the skirt of a palm.While the individual flowers areminute, hundreds of them are massed

together into a great cluster shaped likea gigantic torch flame, four to five feethigh and about three feet in diameter.Only one of these clusters rose fromthe top of each rosette of leaves, butsome plants proudly displayed bloomsfrom as many as four separate trunks.Their creamy-whiteness contrastedmarkedly with the reds, purples andbrowns of the rhyolite of the surround-ing cliffs and slopes. The pe tals havethe same waxy texture that character-izes the blossoms of the Joshua tree.Nolinas are a fairly common plantin Arizona, New Mexico and partsof Southe rn California. They closelyresemble the yuccas and sotols, towhich they are related. All are mem -

M A R C H , I 9 5 3 II


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bers of the lily family, despite theirshrubby or tree-like forms and theirs trange appearance. All have long -tapering leaves terminating in a sharppoint and radiating in all directionsfrom one place, forming a dense ros-ette. The leaves of the sotol are armedwith conspicuous stout prickles alongthe margins, whereas the yucca andnolina are free of them. The flowersof both the yucca and nolina aremassed together into great clusters onthe ends of the branches; but the in-dividual flowers on the yucca arefairly largefrom one-half to threeinches in lengthwhile those of thenolina do not exceed one-sixth of aninch.Most authorities recognize threespecies of nolinas. One, the bear-grass(No l i n a microcarpa) , with grass-likeleaves, grows in low clumps over themiddle-altitude mesas and grasslandsof Arizona and New Mexico, but isnot reported from California. A sec-ond species, the Bigelow nolina (No-l ina bige lovi) , grows as a low tree inthe mountains bordering theSalton Seaand eastward into Arizona. Its smooth-edged leaves distinguish it from thethird species, the Parry nolina (N o l i n aparryi), which has saw-toothed leavesan d is reported from Joshua Tree Na-tional Monument and the eastern SanBernardinos. Benson and Darrow, intheir valuable M a n u a l of Sou thwes t e rnTr e e s and Shrubs recognize the samedistinguishing characteristics, but makethe Parry nolina merely a variety ofthe Bigelow (No l i n a b ige lov i , var.parryi). In all cases, it is agreed thatthe specimens we were visiting areParry nolinas.

We took pictures of these photo-genic plants and their surroundings.T he air in the vicinity hummed withthe vibrations of thewings of hundredsof bees, attracted from their hives inthe cracks of distant ledges by thefragrance of the blossoms.Returning eventually to the car, we

decided, despite the lateness of thehour , to continue on over KingstonPass rather than retrace our steps toTecopa. Beyond the nolina site, theroad climbed steeply with the canyonbottom for another half mile, and thentook off at a very steep angle up theside of thecanyon. On the loose stonesand dirt of the poor roadbed, it wasabout all that our car would pull inlow gear, but we nonetheless slowlychewed our way toward the top.Although the sun was getting lowin the west, the red-brown walls wereradiating the heat they had absorbedduring the day, and it was still hot.After three-quarters of a mile the radi-

ator wasboiling, but rather than wastethe last bit of the day stopping to cooloff, wepushed on. At last we roundeda turn and saw the pass just ahead.And at that moment, the overheatedengine vapor-locked and stalled!The sun was just setting in thewest. Below, the deep valley fromwhich we had ascended was alreadydark and forbidding. Beyond, theranges about the southern end ofDeath Valley were silhouetted one onanother, with the depth of shadowdecreasing into the distance. Above,the thin overcastwhich had causedus concern for thequality of ournolinapictures now recompensed with amagnificent array of colors.Janet, our youngest, intrigued with

the view, "painted" its picture bydrawing in the outlines and labelingthe appropriate colors, so that shecould really paint them in upon herreturn home. Sandy walked up to thepass, to forestall the difficulty thatwould arise should a truck or car comeover and not see us at once.In a-few minutes she was back,saying that she didn't need to watchfor cars, because the man said therewouldn't be any."The man?" we all echoed."Yes," she replied, in a matter-of-fact manner that only a ten-year-oldcan assume. "Youknow, the one thatlives there."This was a great surprise to all ofusfor we had assumed the area to

Tf tax e fan Ston ierLate in 1951,D e s e rt M a g a z in e held its first "Life-on-the-Desert"contest. Amateur and professional writers alike were invited to send instories of desert experiences, and top entries were awarded prizes by staffjudges.Since winners were announced in January, 1952, D e s e r t readers havebeen enjoying these prize-winning Life-on-the-Desert stories, gaining, enter-tainment and desert knowledge from the experiences of others.So popular hasthis series been, in fact, that D es e r t 's staff has decidedto conduct another similar contest in 1953.For the best story of from 1200 to 1500 words submitted by May 1,

an award of $25.00 will be made. Each other contestant whose manu-script is accepted for publication will receive a $15.0 0 award. Entrieswill be judged on thebasis of story content andwriting style.The story must relate a true experience, preferably of the writernoyarns or tall tales or heresay will qualify. The experience may involvedanger while lost on the desert, an adventure while living or traveling onthe desert or in Indian country, while homesteading, rockhunting or pros-pecting. It may be the meeting of an unusual character, revealing a phaseof human nature or a distinct way of life. It may recall "good old days"in themining camps or frontier towns. Perhaps it will contain a lesson ondesert wildlife or plants or desert living.The contest is open to amateur and professional writers alike, butthose whoplan to submit manuscripts should carefully observe the follow-ing rules:All manuscripts must be typewritten, on one side of the page only.Entries should beaddressed to Editor, D e s e rt M a g a z in e , Palm Desert,California, and must reach this office by May 1, 1953, to qualify for theawards.If good sharp 5x7 or larger pictures are available, an extra $3.00 willbe paid for each photograph accepted. Pictures are not essential, however.Writers must beprepared to supply confirmation as to the authenticityof their stories. Only true experiences arewanted.All stories must be essentially of the desert, and the scene is limitedto Arizona, Nevada, Utah, NewMexico and the desert area of California.True names of those involved must be given, although with theknowledge of the judges, fictitious names may be substituted in specialcases where there is reflection onpersonal character.If the story has appeared previously in print, this fact and the timeand name of themedium inwhich it appeared should begiven.All readers of D e s e rt M a g a z in e are invited to submit manuscripts.Unaccepted manuscripts will be returned if accompanied by return postage.

1?, DESERT MAGAZINE


13/44

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^ s H ^ B a ke rbe entirely uninhabited. But when, afew minutes later, we ground our wayto thetop, there hewas, waiting atthe summit.A new lead mine, hetold us, wasbeginning operations nearby and animproved road was being built to itfrom the east. He was working there,and living just over the summit on theeast side.In the gathering darkness wedropped down into the little basin,crossed it and descended past a cattlecamp at Horse Spring.

Emerging into the northern part ofValley Wells Valley, we were pleasedto find (as theAuto Club map pre-dicted that we would) a graded road.M A R C H , 1953

But after amile of it,wewould gladlyhave exchanged this evidence of mod-ern civilization forsome of the moreprimitive roads we had traveled.Heavily-laden ore trucks, poundingover it at high speed, had created theworst case of washboard that it hasever been mymisfortune to travel.The corrugations were deep, and thereseemed to be no speed between 6 and60 that did not loosen the bolts of theca r and the teeth of itsoccupants.For an eternity, we vibrated ourway through the darkness souththrough thelong valley. MagnificentJoshua trees saluted us with theirtwisted arms; and their blooms, shin-ing white in theheadlights and par-

ticularly luxurious in this driest ofyears, invited our further dallying.But we drove steadily on. Atlast ourpatience was rewarded, and we saw,across ourpath ahead, thelong lineof lights ofcars onU.S. 91, descend-ing the long grades from Clark Moun-tain and Yucca Station to ValleyWells.And eventually we were just one ofthem, driving homeward onthe high-waybut differing from the rest inthat wecarried with us thememory

of theseldom-seen lilies of KingstonPass soisolated in their mountaincranny, yet so magnificent in theirpristine beauty.13


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P I C T U R E So f t h eM O N T H

Richard Randall of Pocatello, Idaho,was awarded first prize in Desert'sJanuary contest for this close-up studyof a tarantula spider. The spider wasphotographed in Arizona with a 4x5view ca mera , S uper XX film, 1/10second at f.32.

. . .A burned out church ruin on theHopi Indian reservation in NorthernArizona was photographed by FrankMeitz of Los Angeles, California, towin for him second prize in DesertMagazine's Picture-of-the-Month contest.

Meitz used a 4x5 graphic camera, Gfilter, Super Panchromatic Press film,1/50 second at f.22.

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Hun gry B i l l's R an ch i n Johns o n Can yon , D e a th V a l l e y . D ur i ng th e 1870s f re s hprodu ce wa s r a i sed h e r e a nd packed acr o s s th e mou n t a i n t o P an amin t C it y , t h e na bo o ming m in i ng t own .Where Hungry Bi l l Once L ivedHidden in a remote canyon in the Panamint Mountains of Cali-

fornia is the little spring-watered ranch where once lived Hungry Bill,legendary member of the little tribe of Shoshone Indians in DeathV alle y. Rec ently, on a winter da y, Ruth an d Louis Kirk revisted thislong-abandoned Indian hideaway in Johnson Canyonand here isthe story of what they found.By RUTH E. KIRKPhotographs by Louis G. KirkMap by Norton Al len

Y HUSBAND, Louie , and Ihave found that it is futile totry to capture the feeling ofDeath Valley in a car, whizzing downthe highway from one tourist attrac-tion to another. So we've hit upon aplan. We select a particular spot thatcombines some of the beauty and in-terest of an area, then devote as muchM A R C H , 1 9 5 3

time as is necessary to see and enjoyit thoroughly.Recently our destination was thedeserted ranch of Hungry Bill. Theroad to it would lead us along the floorof the valley and up a steep alluvialfan. Th e ranch is located in a canyonhigh up in the Panamint Mountainsand we could enjoy hiking through

the always delightful desert mountaincoun try. An d, as a final clincher, wewere completely fascinated with theidea that there could have been aranch in the midst of this land repu-tedly so barren and devoid of life.

As we bounced down the dusty roadthat runs along the west side of DeathValley, we pieced together what we'dheard and read of Hungry Bill 's Ranch.Its former owner was a Shoshone In-dian who lived there until his deathabout 30 years ago. According tolegend, he was dubbed "Hungry Bill"by the early miners of the region be-cause of the enormous quantities offood he could stow away when he"happened" to arrive in camp at meal

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t ime. He was a tall, quiet man whoremained aloof from whitesexceptat dinner time. He lived with his fam-ily high up in the well-watered reachesof Six Springs Canyon, nowcommonlycalled Johnson Canyon. He had beengiven legal title to the land by the U.S. government in payment for his serv-ices as scout during the bloody Modocwars.Hungry Bill's people had been resi-dents of the region for generations. Infact, his grandfather was the first In-dian to be seen by the advance scoutof the Bennett-Arcane emigrant partywhich came through Death Valley in1849.William Lewis Manly was ahead ofthe main party when he came uponthe old man near the mouth of Fur-nace Creek Wash. In his journal,Manly reports that at first he took theaged native for a mummy, but whenhe found him alive and crippled witha broken leg he did what he could tomake him comfortable. Three quar-ters of a century later, when the In-

dians told the story to Ray Goodwin,superintendent of Death Valley Na-tional Monument, they pointed out thatit wasManly's courtesy to the old manin giving him jerky and water and"making kind noises" that had keptthe Shoshones from attacking the emi-grants during their encampment in thevalley.The ranching enterprise at HungryBill's wasinitiated by a group of Swissmen during the boom days of Pana-mint City. Today Panamint is a ghost,bu t in the 1870s it was a flourishingmining town, having grown quicklyafter the first discovery of gold in 1873.The town's supplies were freightedacross the desert from Los Angeles,and fresh fruits and vegetables wereunheard of until the Swiss ranchersbegan cultivating the land in JohnsonCanyon and transporting fresh produceover the crest of the mountains to themining families at Panamint. Fruittrees also were set out, but they didnot bear during the brief life of theboom-bust town.

We turned off the main road intothe ruts which lead up Johnson Can-yon. At a fork in the canyon, weabandoned the car and, lunch bags inhand, began to hike up the northbranch.We hadn't gone more than a mileor two when we came upon an oldarrastre, or drag-stone mill. Half amile farther we stumbled over anotherlying amid brush and stones on thecanyon floor. These arrastres theword is Spanish and means "miningmill"were used by early Mexicanand American miners to crush theirore. A basin a foot or two deep andup to 12feet in diameter wasdug, andbottom and sides were lined with flatstones. A heavy, flat-bottomed stonewas suspended from a wooden beamextending across a central pivot shaft.As the beam was pulled around andaround, usually by a burro, the stonecrushed and ground the ore. Waterwas added, and when the ore wassufficiently pulverized the muddy mix-ture was let out into a trough wherethe gold was amalgamated with quick-silver. It was a crude process, butsimple enough to be used in the mostisolated areas and fairly successfulwith free milling ores. Both of thearrastres in Johnson Canyon are fairlywell preserved, the upper one stillshowing scour marks on the stone lin-ing.

Not far above the second arrastrethe canyon narrows to about 15 feetan d the stream becomes a merrilybab-bling brook, then two brooks as itdivides in its swift journey down themountainside. Willow and desert bac-charis form dense growths here, andin a few damp recesses I found maid-enhair fern and Parry's Cloak. Fromtime to time we enjoyed a nibble ofpeppery watercress or a sprig of mintplucked from its green bed along thestream bank. Creosote bush growsalong the canyon sides. An occasionalcatsclaw bushtrying perhaps to liveup to another common name, "wait-a-minute"reached out to impede ourprogress.There is a trail of sorts, but it is ahorse trail and aimlessly zigzags upand down the wash, in and out of thecreek. Theproblem wefaced in John-son Canyon was onehard to associatewith hot, arid Death Valley. Impene-trable thickets obstructed our way, ourboots were wet from crossing and re-crossing the stream, and every nowand again we cracked through the icescum which covered still, swampypools.

The canyon widened a bit and webegan to notice stone walls runningnear its floor and parallel to its sidesin such a manner as to block off all16 DESERT MAGAZINE


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tributary ravines. Occasionally an areawould be completely enclosed. Thewalls are low, no higher than four orfive feet, and of sturdy unmortaredconstruction. Tho usand s of feet ofthem meander for miles up and downthe canyon. We don't know who wentto all the trouble of constructing themor why, but we thought it likely theywere put up by the early tillers of thewild canyon to keep stock out of thefields and yet confined within conveni-ent reach of the ranc h. Similar wallsare found in and about the ruins ofPanamint City.

Rounding a bend three or four milesabove the fork where we had left ourcar, we were greeted by two burrosand our first glimpse of Hungry Bill'sRa nch . A fairly level five-acre fieldwas enclosed by the now familiar stonewalls. Along the south side stood thefruit treesapricots, pears, figs, threevarieties of peach and four varietiesof apple. At the west end were a wal-nut grove and a grape vineyard. Itwas winter, and the trees and vineswere bare, but we had been told thatthey still bear profusely in season.Hungry Bill 's grandson makes occa-sional trips to the ranch to pack someof the fresh fruit down to his motherand sister who live on the valley floor;but usually the harvest just falls to theground to provide a feast for the coy-otes. In spring the ranch must be abeautiful place, with the trees all in

The u pper a r ra s t r e i n Johns o n Can yon . Scou r mar ks i nd ica t e t h e l it t l emi l l s aw heavy us e . The drag-s tone , i t s cab le s t i l l a t t ached, l i es in the bas inbehind the p ivo t gear .blossoma fragrant garden in a harshand bleak land.Behind and to both sides of the fieldthe precipitous slopes of the moun-tains close in. Snowy Sentinel Peak(elevation 9480 feet) towers over-

head, and Louie called my attentionto the fact that we weren't far fromthe gap through which the fresh pro-duce raised at the ranch had beenhauled to Panamint City more than75 years before. We decided to delayOn the h i l l side abo ve the ran ch is an a ban don ed wickiup , roo f l ess dwe l l ing o f theShos hon e I nd i a n s .

M A R C H , 1 9 5 3 17


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19/44

0

Yerington, Nevada . . .Anaconda Copper Company is mov-ing a lot of dirt at its Weed Heightsoperation, across the river from Yer-ington. More than 2,500,000 tons ofoverburden were removed from thecopper site during the past yearandabout 7,500,000 tons await shoveland truck. A. E. Millar, general man-ager for Anaconda at Weed, reportsdevelopment work is on schedule. Pioche Record. Lovelock, Nevada . . .Custom milling at the Toy tungstenmill of Trojan Mining and MillingCompany got under way early thisyear. Th e plant has a capacity of 100tons a day. Terr i tor ia l En terpr is e . Phoenix, Arizona . . .Arizona again topped the nation inthe combined value of copper, silver,gold, lead and zinc production in 1952,according to a Bureau of Mines report.Arizona mines' output of these metalswas valued at $219,656,810, leadingUtah, second-ranking state, by approxi-mately $50,0 00 ,000 . The state againwas first in copper production, wasfourth in silver, fifth in gold, sixth inlead and seventh in zinc. A r iz o n a R e -public. Randsburg, California . . .A new tungsten milling plant isunder construction here by Earl Thedeof Los Angeles and H. C. Brown ofJoha nnesb urg. The mill is designedto recover good values from an epidotetype of ore that requires special treat-ment to avoid too much loss as "milk."Automatic feeders from storage bunk-ers are expected to enable two mento operate each shift, handling abouttwo tons of scheelite ore per hour.Randsburg Times -Hera ld . Henderson, Nevada . . .A simple chemical test which willdetermine the titanium contents ofrocks has been devised by LeonardShapiro of the United States geologicalsurvey. The usual proced ure of fieldgeologists is to identify rocks tenta-tively by general appearance, then sendthem to laboratories for further analy-siswhich takes time. The Shapirotest is simple, takes about 10 minutesand costs less than 10 cents. Concen -trates of titanium oxide from zero totwo percent can be detected, and highconcentrates can be estimated. P io -ch e Record.

Albuquerque, New Mexico . . .Negotiations are in progress to re-activate the mica mine of Great West-ern Mining Comp any at Mo ra. BobKatson, president of the firm, saidthere was no truth to a rumor that theproperty might be placed in the handsof a receiver. "It has been in financialstraits," he admitted, "but more capi-tal is going into the business and wehave reorganized, so I think everythingwill be straightened ou t." Ne wM e x ic a n .Moab, UtahCharles A. Steen, chief geologist forthe Utex Exploration Company, re-ports that a 73-foot shaft has beencompleted down to a body of pitch-blende ore in the Big Indian area.Diamond drilling discovered the vein,the first of this type ore found any-where on the Colorado Plateau. Assaysindicated 5.08 percent U308 and 9.81percent V205. M in i n g Record.Wenden, Arizona . . .With the opening of the govern-ment's new manganese sampling plantand purchasing depot at Wenden, long-dormant manganese mines in northernYuma and southern Mohave countieswere expected to go into production.The mill can handle 400 tons of oredaily and has storage area for 6,000,-000 units about 400,000 tons ofmanganese ore. A r iz o n a R epub l i c .Washington, D. C. . . .The relations of certain geologicfeatures to carnotite deposits in theColorado Plateau have long been rec-ognized by miners and geologists. TheU. S. Geological Survey recently un-dertook a large-scale program of dia-mond-drill exploration on behalf of theAtomic Energy Commission, apprais-ing and recording 2500 drill holes asguides in prospecting for carnotite. Astudy of these geological logs led to thefollowing conclusions: 1. Mo st carno -tite ore deposits are in or near thethicker, central parts of sandstonelenses; 2. Sandstone in the vicinity ofore deposits is colored light brown,while a reddish color indicates unfavor-able ground; 3. Near ore deposits themudstone in the ore-bearing sandstonehas been altered from red to gray; 4.Sandstone in the immediate vicinity ofore deposits contains more carbonizedplant fossils than do the same bedsaway from ore deposits. M in i n g R e c -ord .

Elko, N e v a d a . . .New World Exploration, Researchand Development Corporation is oper-ating the Aladdin Mine near Elko,shipping about one carload a day oflead-silver-copper ore to the AmericanSmelting and Refining Company'slead smelter at Selby, California.Diamond drilling is underway to out-line additional tonnages for futureshipment. Humbo ld t S t a r . Las Vegas , Nevada . . .A 40-inch width of galena ore hasbeen discovered below the 135-footlevel at the Lead King mine, locatedabout 14 miles north of Las Vegas.This latest strike establishes an addi-tional reserve of approximately 50,000tons of millable ore estimated at valuesin excess of $20 per ton. The total orereserve is valued at $2,000,000. Pioche Record. Oracle, Arizona . . .Exploration work at the MorningStar tungsten mine in the Old Hatmining district was started by NikasMining Company, after the DefenseMinerals Exploration Administrationgranted the company a $60,000 loanfor the project. Mining is from tunnelsand open cuts, and the ore vein is saidto run from five to 18 feet in width.Humbo ld t S t a r . Reno, Nevada . . .Nevada copper output rose sub-stantially during 1952, preliminaryBureau of Mines figures show, butlead and zinc failed to reach produc-tion figures attained in 1951. Highcost operations and fluctuating priceconditions were partially responsiblefor the lead-zinc decrease . Com binedvalue of the production of gold, silver,copper, lead and zinc was $40,013,-850, three percent below last year'stotal. B a t t l e M o u n t a in S co u t . Grand Junction, Utah . . .Construction of a pilot plant atGrand Junction, to develop new meth-ods for extracting uranium from oresfound in the West, has been announcedby the Atomic Energy Commission.The plant is being built by the Ameri-can Cyanamid Company, which alsowill oper ate it for the AEC . Op erationis scheduled to begin March 1.MoabTimes - I nd ependen t . Ely, Nevada . . .Kennecott Copper Company hasordered the most powerful coppermine hoist in the United States foroperation of its Deep Ruth Mine.When operating from the maximumdepth, the hoist will be capable of de-livering 12 tons of copper ore to thesurface ever 72 seconds. H u m b o l d tS tar .

M A R C H , 1 9 5 3 19


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L I F E O i l T H E D E S E R TBy EDITH O. NEWBY

Before our trip into Monument Valley that summerof 1951 I would not have believed that the desert ina few short weeks could completely change theattitude-toward-life of a city boy. And yet I sa w ithappen. Where men and gadge ts had failed. Naturestepped inand here is the story of the miraclethat took p lace .HAD not caught onwell in school. There had beena broken home, and out of theconfusion of this experience had comeresentment.We were friends, and we wonderedif a chang e would help. We were go-ing West and perhaps a few weeks inUtah and Arizona would provide thetonic this young man needed. He wasa likeable boy.He accepted our invitation witheagernessbut he had been so warpedby tragedy and deception that thepleasure of anticipating his first longjourney away from home was tempered

with wariness.We soon discovered that he did notbelieve in many of the lovely facetsof Naturethings that we take forgranted . One of the phenom ena whicharoused his skepticism was an echo.He learned about echoes at MesaVerde National Park. We had stoppedto take pictures, and our son, con-templating the myriad canyon walls,casually wondered what kind of anecho they could produce. Walking toa likely spot he cupped his hands andshouted, "Don-aid !" Clearly and inrapid succession the boy's name cameback three times. Donald looked upin surprise from a comic book. Atonce he was suspicious. Noting thatour son stood at a little distance, heexclaimed, "Aw, he's just faking that!"

We urged him to try it. On thesame spot he cupped his hands andshouted across to the canyon wall,"Ne-al!" Clearly and rapidly my son'sname came back three times, the lastone soft and friendly.For a few seconds no one said any-thing. Then I heard Donald's loudwhisper, "Well, gee whiz!" We sensedthe wonder within him as he realizedthat the rocks had seemed to welcomehim. We stood there in that profoundsilence that settles again on the desertafter it has been ruptured by noise.He was shouting into canyons oftenafter that, and the comic books layneglected.At the cliff dwellings we joined aparty just going into the Spruce TreeHo use . In telling of these ancientpeople, the guide requested the utmostcare in walking about the ruins thatthere be no further injury to crumb-ling walls. At one spot I was aboutto step onto a wall I could not scale,when Donald reminded me of theguide's adm onition. "It would be a

shame" he said gravely, "if some daythere wasn't any more of this left. It'spretty old, you know."1 was doubly careful after that.Nothing could have induced this boyto dig his name into anything or tochip himself a souvenir, although hewould gladly have purchased a frag-ment had they been for sale. He wasdelighted with the illustrated historybooklet we bought to add to our in-formation about these ancient folk.Occasionally he would read aloud,stumbling frequently. But he wasreading by his own choice, probablyfor the first time. Onc e, to my utteramazement he said, "You can see Ihave trouble with my reading. Maybeyou could help me with it before weget home?"

The museum thrilled him. He wasastounded to learn that these remotepeople had had arthritis and impactedwisdom teeth. He began to wonderabout their religion"But how couldthey know about God if they didn'thave any Bible?" he asked.Maybe, I said, they knew SomeoneWonderful had made the sun and themoon and the cool earth."I'll bet they were scared of thun-derstorms though!" he reasoned."Lightning must have looked like hotswords plunging at them ." He waslearning to think and imaginationwas being born.It was at the Goosenecks near Mex-ican Hat, Utah, that the accident oc-curred. We were preparing to leave.Donald was leaning on the car door,the doors were slammed shut andthere was a scream of pain . Wh en hishand was released, the added agonytore at us in our helplessness.For once we New Yorkers couldn'tpush a button! We were alone on thedesert with a first aid kit that coveredeverything but this. The boy sagged,white and trembling against my hus-band who held the arm aloft to relievethe blood pressure.At Monticello, 65 miles north, therewas a two-room hospital. We hadjust come from there. Bluff, wherewe had left our son at Rev. Liebler'smission, was only 25 miles; but theyhad no doctor. We would have tocontinue 60 miles south to Kayenta;surely there would be a doctor there!Then I looked at the road map andsaw Mex ican Hat. I was overjoyed.A town! There would be at least adruggist, stores, folks that knew. True,

we had been given the impression thatthere was nothing until you came toKayenta. But folks just hadn't thoughtabout Mexican Hat. It was on them a p , wasn't it? And it was only 10miles.Donald slept now, weak after theacute pain had changed to throbbing.I felt encouraged when he awakenedonce, looked down over the edge ofthe cliff road and said feebly, "Oh,boy!" After a while we descendedanother winding, rocky trail to findthe San Juan ahead . Just beyond asolitary house and an abandoned minestood the trading post. I asked howfar to Mexican Hat.The trader stunned me as he saidserenely, "This is Mexican Hat."I stared bleakly around at spaceand one lone horseman on the horizon.The house was Nevills' lodge and thetrader suggested that Mrs. Nevills, theriverman's mother might be able tohelp . She received us out of the blis-tering sun and first she gave us cool,clear water. Donald drank greedily,sighed, "Oh boy, is that good!" anddrank again.

"I guess I never looked at water,"he said as it sparkled in the glass.Water, they had pounded at him inschool, "is H2O without color, tasteor odor," and like all city folks hehad poured more down the drain thanhe had ever drunk. Now he knewthat water was delicious, that in desertcountry it was a gift. Mr s. Nevillstalked about the road to Kayenta andthought we might find a doctor there;it was the only thing to do. Kaye ntawas 50 miles away.

Almost half of the distance accom-plished, we came upon directions toGoulding's trading post. We knewabout Harry Goulding. Interestingpeople were always writing about theplace scientists, photograp hers, ex-plorers. There might be a doctor. Weturned across the sand, and beforelong the boy sat up, peering intentlyahead. Then he reported he saw stir-rings up on the ledge of a distant butte.Goulding's! Shortly we were makingthe last climb to the famous little groupof buildings in Monument Valley.

There was, alas, no doctor, butsome guests told us that there was amissionary nurse, "just back downthe road and up that little canyon.She'll be glad to fix him up, then comeback here and rest a while." This hadD E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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M on ume n t V a l l e y pho t o graph by Geor ge E . B a r r e t t .a sweet sound to us. hot, tired andworried as we were.The last part of the trek up thecanyon was so steep we took it afoot.Half way up I heard Donald whisper."Oh, look!" Winding slowly up thetrail behind us came a group ofmounted Navajos, a mother carryinga cradle board, and two small boys,each on his hor se. "W hy, it's real!It's like a pic ture ." The boy forgothis pain completely as he stood look-ing after the colorful little caravanmaking its way to a nearby hogan.Then we were received by the Wal-ter children and introduced to theirmissionary paren ts. Serenely and ex-pertly Mrs. Walter treated the bruisedfingers and then this charming familyturned our visit into a treasure hunt.Mr. Walter got us all into the jeepstation wagon, drove still higher upthe canyon, and there Donald receivedhis first instruction in rock identifica-tion. As a partin g gift the Waltersgave him two beautiful stones, streakedwith uranium and vanadium.Magic words! The boy seethed withexcitement. Later that night he wrotehis motherfor his right hand wasthe good oneabout this experience.Writing had generally required com-pulsion. But this was different!It was on the way down the hillthat the lizard inciden t occu rred. Inthe city there is no room for creepingcrawling things. A lizard would notlast long in Kansas City; it would havea swift and even cruel end.Suddenly the boy was bent overstudying the scurrying creature, de-light in his face as it scurried over therocks and into a stone pocket, thenturned swiftly and peered out, like

a small scout for his tribe. The boydid not snatch at it, nor try to impedeits course, but watched it intently,then looked up at me and smiled."That's a chuckawalla," I guessed,and once back at the car he put theword down in his note book, and nextto it printed laboriously, "lizerd."That night, long after he was asleep,my husband and I stood on the porchof the trading post, watching the wink-ing stars countless thousands of lightyears away. Suddenly I felt a warmthfor everything in the dark and silentdesert. Had D onald , in a flash, feltthis abou t the lizard? Had sun , sandand the serenity of desert folkawakened what the city had nearlystrangled?Next morning the Gouldings tookus down into Monument Valley, astory book trip "with colored pictures,"said Donald.That night the boy who hated towrite was writing again, agonizing

over words he could not spell, butstruggling to tell his story.For some days after that he wassteadily occupied numbering andclassifying folders and picture cards,making simple notations, because, heinferred, he might be asked to tell theyounger children of his Sunday Schoolabou t this trip. He would let us know.We were home again. The mo nthswent by and we did not hear fromDo nald. Had he forgotten all he hadseen? Had nothing been permanent?Occasionally others wrote that he wasworking, liked his job and that therehad been vocational and medical help.We had just about given up hope whenthe letter cam e. It was copiously mis-

spelled, but there were two full pagesof cheerful news, some excitementover flying saucers and a grave requestfor my husband's opinions in the mat-ter!We saw him this summer within ahappy family circle and there was muchenjoyment of our colored slides which,of cour se, the boy had not seen. Herelived the trip with great gusto. Thento our surprise he brought forth theD e s e rt M a g a z in e s we had sent him.They were in proper chronologicalorder with articles and illustrationsmarked and noted. He informed uswith pride that the aircraft companyhe works for will give him a vacationnext year and he would like to fly outto Mo num ent Valley. "With all thatheat," I exclaimed, "and sand and noradio and maybe a busted hand?" Helaughed, "Aw, that 's nothingthere'slots of other things!"

And it is these other things I can-not explain to people. When m y NewYork friends say sitting with thetelephone at one hand and the tele-vision at the other"What in heaven'sname do you see in that country, sandand sun and heat? And when you 'recamping no bath for days on end.Don't you miss the news, and tele-vision and department stores? Do n'tyou miss the city?"I am trapped for an answer, becauseI don't miss the city, and because I'veseen and felt a hundred wonderfulthings that cannot be fitted into citychatter. The most wonderful thing ofall was when I saw Nature bring aboy's inner self to life.N o, I cannot answer because theywouldn't understand.

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MD iscover ing i t was impossib l e t o g e t b eh ind th e wa t e r fa l l f rom where he s t o od onthe wes t s ide , Lon g Tom c l imbed u p and arou nd th e rocky l edge , wad ing throu gha fo o t o f w a t e r a b o v e .

OF the old Tanner Trailin the Grand Canyon is asmall slope where gold nug-gets can be picked up by the handful.The unknown discoverer of this bo-nanza cached a small fortune of themin the dark recess behind a waterfall.The man who, 10 years later, foundthe sackful of nuggets and brought outa few was "Long Tom" Watson, aprospector who spent most of his 70years in northern Arizona.Watson was a stringy, bearded, taci-turn individual who wandered alonein search of preciou s meta ls. Heworked the remote, little-known areasof north-central Arizona from thawtime until snow came in the winter.When snow and ice covered the groundand filled the ravines, he retreated toFlagstaff until spring.Late in November of the year 1910,Watson came to town as usual andset up housekeeping in an abandonedshack . Clean ing the place of debrisand refuse, he came across severalboxes of old letters, seed cataloguesand newspapers. These he saved,thinking they would come in handyto start fires on cold mornings.One January day, many weeks later,

he picked up a batch of old letters tostuff into the cook stove's fine box.He happened to notice one that had

not been opened. Curious , he laid itaside until the fire glowed and thenexamined it. The blue ink on thecover had become wet and had blotted,rendering the name and address un-reada ble. The flap was still sealed,and the envelope bore a Williams post-mark.Watson opened the letter and founda folded sheet that had been torn froma piece of brown wrapping paper. Onone side was a message, and on theother, a map.The letter was addressed only,"De ar Brother." According to itscontents, the writer was a prospectorand had just been brought to Williamsfrom the Grand Canyon, suffering fromgunshot wounds. "I had found groundcovered with gold nuggets in the can-yon," it read, "and had collected anore sack full of them preparatory tocoming out. Tha t night, two men Ihad suspected of following me rodeinto camp."The writer had hidden his sack ofgold nuggets a short distance away,under some rocks near a 22-foot water-fall. Ma king an excuse to leave cam p,he went to his cache and swung thesack of gold down and over throughthe edge of the waterfall into the mouthof a small cave behind it. His rea son-ing was that if the two prowlers meant

him no harm, he could easily recoverthe sack in the morning. How ever, onreturning to camp, he found the twomen ransacking it. A gunfight started,and although the writer assured hisbrother he had wounded one of the in-truders and had driven them both off,he himself was wou nded seriously in twoplaces. He managed to reach his burro,pulled himself up on the animal andsought to flee to Bright Angel Trail.But he fell unconscious just short ofhis goal. Two forest guards or rangersfound him there and carried him to adoctor.Heeding the doctor's warning thathis condition was critical, the pros-pector wrote to his brother, giving adescription of the country around thewaterfall and drawing a ma p. Heasked that the brother come at onceto Williams, a town 33 miles west ofFlagstaff. Apparently the brother hadalready departed Arizona when theletter was written, and he never re-ceived it.Watson considered the roughlysketched map. He believed he couldlocate the waterfall. But, he askedhimself, suppose the writer of the let-ter had recovered and had retrievedhis gold? The letter was dated May28, 1904six years before. Almostanything could have happened since.

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But the scent of precious metal wastoo strong, and Long Tom decided tofollow this lead. He traveled to Wil-liams by train and there spent severalweeks seeking and following clues.Finally he met a Dr. Rounseville,who remembered attending a fatallywounded prospector more than sixyears before. The dying man , whohad been brought to Williams fromthe Grand Canyon, had given no name,was unknown in Williams and hadbeen buried in an unmarked grave inthe local boo thill. No inquiries hadbeen made about the man, and nobrother had shown up either to visithim or to bury him.Watson returned to Flagstaff. Whenthe ice and snow began melting in thespring, he entered Havasupai Canyon,outfitted as usual with a burro andriding horse. Fo r some reason he firstbelieved the map indicated this can-yon where the last of the HavasupaiIndians lived. No cardinal points weremarked on it, and the map consistedof a line indicating the bottom of acanyon with side canyons reaching offthe main floor. The site of the water-fall and the area where the gold hadbeen discovered were detailed out ofproportion to the rest of the sketch.But there were several importantwaterfalls in Havasupai, and Watsonbegan his search there.

The Havasupai Indians were curi-ous about him, friendly and spent

hou rs visiting him . This caused Wat-son to slow his search, wanderingaround aimlessly and seeking behindwaterfalls only during those timeswhen he knew himself to be alone.Thus the summer passed, and with thecoming of the winter of 1911 he hadadvanced into the Grand Canyonprope r. The farther he searched, themore he became convinced that themap actually did indicate the GrandCanyon, the bottom line representingthe Colorado river through the gorge.Winters in the canyon were notsevere. Watson could search as easilythen as in the sum mer. But he decidedto take a break and try to learn moreabout the canyon country from Cap-tain John Hance and others who rep-

utedly knew the Grand Canyon arealike a book.Waterfalls in the mighty gorge? Yes,they told him, a few. They w ere lo-cated far apart, and Watson spent allthat winter seeking them and examin-ing the water-worn caves behind them.In February, 1912, the prospectorwas forced to leave his search for awhile and go in to Flagstaff for sup-plies. He obtained a grubstake andreturned. It now occurred to him thatperhaps the waterfall he was seekingwas active only during the thawingtime of spring and early summer. Ifthis were true, then the greater partof the vear the waterfall would be a

Somewhere in the depths of the GrandCanyon of the Colorado River is anelusive waterfalland this waterfall isthe landmark that will guide you to afortune in gold nuggetsii you can findit. Twice this gold has been foundandtwice lost, according to the story that istold around Flagstaff. And if the storyis true, the nuggets are still there await-ing another discoverer.By GLADWELL RICHARDSONIllustrated by Ted Littlefielddry ledge overlookng some temporarywater course.This theory not only opened up agreater territory to search, but it alsoincreased the difficulties of finding theright place. Und aunted, Watson re-solved to check every possibility be-tween Havasupai Canyon and thejunction of the Colorado and LittleColora do rivers. It was a stupendousundertaking . Yet Watson continuedthe search, abandoning it briefly onlywhen hunger forced him.By June, 1914, Watson was dis-courag ed. But he started out oncemore, heading east for the old TannerTrail. The trail descended from thebase of Moran Point and crossed theriver to the "stri p." It was betterknown as Horse Thief Trail, as horsethieves used it to cross the canyonwith stolen stock.Around four o'clock in the after-noon, Watson heard the sound of dis-tant water. It came not from theriver, but from the south, where heknew no water to be. He was furtherastonished to see an unexpected water-fall about 700 feet up the wall of thegorge.The prospector paused, debatingwhether he dared waste more time.To explore the waterfall would meanspending another foodless night in thecanyon. Then he remembered the date

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of the old letterit was at this timeof the year that the dead man hadhidden his nuggets. This waterfallcould be one which appeared only inthe spring and summer.Watson dismounted and, leavinghis stock, climbed slowly along thesloping rock-studded wall. As he ap-proached, the waterfall took on height.When he stood beside the projectingledge over which the bluish coloredwater fell, he observed that it was at

least 22 feet high and perhaps 10 or12 feet wide. Wa tson tested the prob-ability of a cave entrance behind it bytossing a good-sized stone through thethin sheet of water. It disappeared.His interest quickening, the pros-pector surveyed the scene. It was im-possible to get behind the fall fromwhere he stood on the west side, sohe climbed up and around the rockyledge, wading through a foot of waterabove and finally working his way to

D e s e r t Q u i z This is D e s e rt M a g a z in e ' s monthly lesson forthose who would like to know more aboutthe Great American Desertits geography,history, people, wildlife, industries and lore. If you answer 12 correctlyyou are no longer a tenderfoot; 13 to 15 is good, 16 to 18 excellent; morethan 18 entitles you to the degree of Sand Dune Sage. The answers areon page 28.iPoint from which one can see the highest peak in California isEl Centra . Death Valley . Palm Springs . Las Vegas.Nevada2Elephant Butte dam is in the Rio Grande River . GilaRiver . Colorado River . Mojave River3The Western Gecko is a species of Lizard . SnakeBird ____. Flowering shrub . .4The Desert Rat Scrap Book is edited byOren Arnold . HaroldWeight . RayCarlson . Harry Oliver5Bill Williams, forwhom both a mountain and a river in Arizona werenamed, wasAn Arizona territorial governor . A trapper andMountain Man . Overland stage driver . Scout for theMormon Battalion6Only venomous lizard on the Great American Desert is TheChuckawalla . Iguana . Gila Monster . Zebra-tailedlizard . .7Piki is an Indian name for a type ofDwelling . Weapon

Primitive money . Bread8The Lechugilla desert is located inCentral Utah . SouthernArizona . Northern Nevada . Southern New Mexico9The long bridge at Moab, Utah, crosses theSan Juan RiverColorado River . Green River . Fremont River10The color of Chrysocola isRed . White . PurpleBlue-green11The Indian Pueblo of San Ildefonso in New Mexico is best knownfor its Pottery . Weaving . Ceremonial DancesSuccessful farming ._12The Virgin (or Virgen) River in Utah flows throughZion NationalPark . . . Bryce Canyon National Park . Capitol Reef Na-tional Monument . Dinosaur National Monument13Dr. Herbert Stahnke of Arizona is nationally known for hisresearch work with Rattlesnakes . Tarantulas . DesertTortoises ... . Scorpions14Virginia City is an old mining camp inArizona . NevadaUtah __ . California .... .15The book Gold, G u n s and Ghos t Towns, was written byGeorgeWharton James . George Palmer Putnam . W. A. Chal-fant . Frank Dobie16A piton is a tool used byL apidaries .Arch ers .Min ersMountain c l imbers . .17Clyde Forsythe is a contemporary Painter . SculptorMining engineer _ . Naturalist18The Inter-Tribal Indian Ceremonials are held each August inWinslow .. . Window Rock .. . Gallup . Kayenta19Recreational facilities around Lake Mead are administered byTheU. S. Park Service TheState of Nevada . The ReclamationB u r e a u . ... . Municipal government of Boulder City _.20Mexican Hat is a well known landmark in New MexicoUtah . Arizona Nevada

a position on the east. One corner ofa dark recess behind the sheet of waterwas exposed.Proceeding carefully, he managedto get from the rock wall to the sideof the falls, about 15 feet from thebottom, where a recessed ledge showed.The position was precarious, but inhis anxiety to discover what lay be-hind, Watson took chances. By leap-ing recklessly he made it. He foundhimself in a dark, cool recess, bowl-shaped and graveled underfoot.From a waterproof container hetook a match and struck it on therock floor behind the tumbling water.He looked down in the nickering yel-low light and found his knees restingon a blanket of golden nuggets. Theblood pounded in his head, but hequickly quelled his elation to examinethe find further.Watson estimated that a full bushelof nuggets had been in the originalcontainer, a leather ore sack. Butrodents hadgnawed that leather apart.Hardly bare scraps remained, and hewould have to bring something tocarry it away in. That would be simplein the morning, he thought. Workup this side with his stock, and thenfill the cotton sacks carried on theburro. However W atson filled hispants pockets with the largest nuggetshe could find by feeling in the dark.That done he stood up, turning tothe spot where he jumped in.Exit looked simple. From the lipof the ledge he would spring to thewall of the ravine, clinging with hishands and feet, and thence climbon out. Watson stepped on the lip,bu t he had not counted on it beingslick, and with a feeling of horror hefelt himself plunged into the sheet ofwater and downward.Stars shone overhead when he re-turned to consciousness, his bodywracked with pain. He lay on thelower edge of a small pool, bruisedin many spots and his left leg brokenbelow the knee. This was tragic in-

deed; but, he reasoned, he had at longlast found the cached gold and he wassure the area about would yield stillmore nuggets. His spirits were highdespite the situation in which he foundhimself.He gritted his teeth andpulled him-self out of the pool. By desperateeffort and strength due to knowledgethat at last he had struck it rich, hecrawled and pulled himself with armsand hands from the ravine and downthe slope to his stock.The first yellow streaks of dawn

were showing when he made the trail,and there Watson rested until full daycame on. Somehow he managed toDESERT MAGAZINE


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get the short ax from the pack on theburro . Tha t equipped him with themeans of acquiring two pieces of heavycedar wood which he bound on eachside of his broken leg.When he took off his right shoe toclean it of gravel picked up whilecrawling, he found four pea size nug-gets, which told him even more thatthe slope was richthe source of thegold mentioned in the dead man'sletter.Then he crawled from a ledge intothe saddle on his horse, and set outfor Ta nn er Trail. His bu rro fell inbehind the horse, and a little afternoon that day Watson arrived at theMartin Buggelin ranch on the southrim.Here he had immediate help, andhis hours of tortured struggle wereended. He was carried in a buckb oardto the lumber mill hospital in Flagstaff.Gangrene set in the bruised and bat-tered wounds of the broken leg, butWatson had the will to live, and aftera four-month siege in the hospital hewas able to walk again in October.Watson sold some of the nuggets topay his doctor and to provision him-self. His stock had been kept at theBuggelin ranch, and from there hewent back into the canyon. All thiswhile Watson had kept his secret.He did not reappear until the fol-lowing spring . A brief visit to Flag-staff, where he sold more of the nug-gets through an acquaintance, a vet-erinarian, "Doc" Roy Scanlon, andback he went.After all his courage and long work,the sad fact was that Watson couldnot return to the cave behind the water-fall. He could not find it. No thingcould have been more dishearteningto the man . There had been stunningshock on his first try, and then dis-belief that this fantastic thing washappen ing to him. These things hetold Doc Scanlon in the lobby of theWeatherford hotel in the fall of 1915.Scanlon found him an embittered,

hopelessly disappointed old man whosedream s were broke n. At long last thedam of taciturnity in Watson broke,and he had to talk. He went homewith Scanlon where the two men dis-cussed the situation until nearly dawn.Watson's nagging fear was that if hedidn't relocate the cache of gold andthe rich slope soon, he never would.Following a few days to permitScanlon time to outfit himself, the twomen went down into the canyon overTa nn er Trail togethe r. Excep t for in-frequent trips out for supplies theysearched constantly until late spring.In the area just west of TannerTrail where Watson firmly believedthe waterfall to be, Ihere was none to

be seen. In spea king of it later, Scan-lon remembered that both wintersthat of the original discovery of therich earth near the fall by the unknownprospector and the winter Watson re-discovered it there was unusuallyheavy snowfall. His theory was thatonly then had the ravine run withwater. In addition , a cloudb urst, alandslide, or an unusual run of watercould have formed a dam somewhereabove, diverting the melting snowstream permanently.

Whatever happened to the waterfall,it could n't be found. Scanlon had toabandon the search, but Watson re-turned for two months more. He cameout finally and, following the old Flag-staff-Grand Canyon Stage road, wentoff one night to camp among thecedars of Deadman Flat.Sitting by his lonely fire that nightthe whole of his past life came beforeWatson. Now he was broken and oldand could not return to the one richstrike. Disappointment and great bit-terness overwh elmed him. He placedthe butt of his .30-.30 carbine betweenhis feet and back against a tree, themuzzle to the roof of his mouth. Witha short stick in the right hand Watsonplunged the trigger.Two days later, coming along thesame road in a buggy from Needmore,Scanlon found Watson's horse andburro, and then the body. Four thum bsized gold nuggets worn shiny by con-

stant carrying reposed in the rightpocket of Watson's denims.Though Old Tom's failure to re-locate the gold grieved Scanlon, hedid not consider it unusually strange.During his hunting with him Watsonat least 12 different times had "rec-ognized" some ravine and slope asbeing the right place. Scanlon had anexplanation: "Men who spend mostof their lives alone prospecting havenothing to relieve thinking about theirquest and the coun try they cover. Bycampfires at night, moseying alongduring the day, all that was in theirminds, literally, were pictures of spe-cific scenes and landmarks, each aclear cut, well defined mind picture.Supposing the time came when undertense circustances that man sought toaffix on e definitely on his brain ? Su p-posing then that such deep thinkingreproduced all the others, and theybecame as one?

"I've known three other cases whereprospectors could not return to thescene of a rich strike," Scanlon alwaysadded to his theory. "It probably ac-counts for most others as well. Lon gTom simply could not bring his onemental picture of his strike free of ahost of others. Therefore each newshift of scenery, each turn of the can-yon wall, appeared to be the same."May be Scanlon was right. Certainlyno other man has yet found Watson'slost gold behind a waterfall.

The water outlook for the Southwestthis spring is not favorable, accordingto snow-pack reports compiled by theWeather Bureau for the first of Jan-uary. Upper Colorado Basin states ex-perienced perhaps the driest Octoberof record the past fall.Accumulated seasonal precipitationover the Upper Colorado Basin aver-aged slightly more than half of normal.Reports from the various drainagesheds are as follows:Co lo r ado R ive r above C is co : Water-year flows of only 60 to 85 percentof the 10-year average are expectedfor the area, assuming precipitation thebalance of the season is near normal.Near-record maximum precipitationfor January through June will be re-quired to bring the water-year runoffup to the 1941-50 average.Gr een R ive r B a s i n : Median fore-casts call for 50 to 90 percent of the10-year average. Flows of 75 percentof average a

Documents

195303 Desert Magazine 1953 March