195306 Desert Magazine 1953 June

8/14/2019 195306 Desert Magazine 1953 June

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N W F R 56P A G G 1 9 5 3 M ID Y E A R P R IC E L I S TThis catalog is thesame as our 1952 Fall Catalog. It is8W'xll" in size and it is profusely illustrated. 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, andPolishing Powders, Jewelry MakingTools, Sterling Silver Sheet and Wire, Blank RingMountings, Jewelry Findings such as Earwires,

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P H O N E : SY. 6 - 6 4 2 3

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D E S E R T C A L E N D A RMay 30 Morongo Valley AnnualEarly California Fiesta, MorongoValley, California.May 30-31 Desert Peaks Section,Southern California Chapter SierraClub ascent of Mt. Keynot, inCalifornia's Inyo Range.May 30-31 Spanish Fiesta, OldTown, Albuquerque, New Mexico.May 30-June 21"25 Years of Prog-ress" exhibit detailing scientificadvances made by the Museum ofNorthern Arizona since its found-ing in 1928. Flagstaff.May 31Lincoln County Homecom-ing Day, Caliente, Nevada.JuneContinuance, special exhibit ofpaintings of historical landmarksof California and portraits of pio-neer families, by Orpha Klinker.Southwest Museum, Highland Park,Los Angeles, California.June 2-520th Annual exhibition ofHopi craftsmen. Pottery, weaving,embroidery and silver. Demon-strations. Museum of NorthernArizona, Flagstaff.June 4-6Annual Strawberry Day,Pleasant Grove, Utah.June 4-6Pioneer Days, Clovis, NewMexico.June 7Corpus Christi Sunday. Out-door religious processions from St.Francis Cathedral and Christo ReyChurch, Santa Fe, New Mexico.June 12Fiesta of the Loma. Taos,New Mexico.June 12-17 Future Farmers ofAmerica Rodeo, Santa Rosa, NewMexico.June 13Fiesta, Sandia Indian Pue-blo, New Mexico.June 13Ceremonial dances, TaosPueblo and San Ildefonso, NewMexico.June 13Feast of San Antonio dePadua, celebrated at Cordova andvarious other rural villages innorthern New Mexico.June 14Procession of La Conquis-

tadora from St. Francis Cathedralto Rosario Chapel, commemoratingreconquest of New Mexico fromthe Indians by DeVargas in 1692.Santa Fe, New Mexico.June 18-20Quay County Sheriff'sPosse Rodeo, Tucumcari, NewMexico.June 19-21Second Annual MojaveTrail Exposition and Panorama,Barstow, California.June 24 Annual fiesta and cere-monial dances, San Juan Pueblo,New Mexico.June 24Corn Dances, Taos andAcoma Pueblos, New Mexico.June 25-27Rodeo, Vernal, Utah.June 27-28 Fifth Annual IndianCapital Rodeo, Gallup, N. M.

Volume 16 JUNE, 1953 Number 6CO VER

CALENDARH ISTO RYTRAVELA R C H E O L O G YFIELD TRIPDESERT QUIZEXPERIENCEW A T E RPOETRYP H O T O G R A P H YFICTIONC O N T E S TLO ST MINELETTERSN E W SLAP IDARYH O BBYC O M M E N TB O O K S

Art Greene of Cliff Dwellers Lodge. Photo byJOSEF MUENCH, Santa Barbara, California.(See page 12)June events on the desert 3

. 4Forgotten Mine of the Mormon Pioneers

By NELL MURBARGERA Day in Chiricahua

By WELDON and PHYLLIS HEALDAncient Towers of Mystery

By JOHN STEWART MacCLARY .Field Day in Muggins Hills

By RANDALL HENDERSON . . .A test of your desert knowledge . . .Life on the Desert

By CARITA SELVASJune forecast for Colorado River Basin .Inner Fire, and other poems . . . .

9131518202122

P i c t u r e s of the M o n t h 23Hard Rock Shorty of Death ValleyBy L, C. DeSELM 24P r i z e s for P h o t o g r a p h e r s 24Los t Lode of S i e r r a S o m b r e r a

By KENNETH E. H I C K O K 25C o m m e n t f r o m D e s e r t ' s r e a d e r s 27F r o m H e r e and T h e r e on the D e s e r t . . . . 29A m a t e u r Gem Cut t er , by L E L A N D E Q U I C K . . 35G e m s and M i n e r a l s 36J u s t B e t w e e n You and Me, by the Edi t o r . . . 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 is published monthly by the Desert Press, Inc., Palm Desert,California. Re-entered as second class matter July 17, 1948, at the post office at Palm Desert,California, under the Act of March 3, 1879. Title registered No. 358865 in U. S. Patent Office,and contents copyrighted 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 EditorEVONNE RIDDELL, Circulation ManagerUnsolicited manuscripts and photographs submitted cannot be re turned 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 RATESO ne Year 53.50 TwoYears $6.00Canadian Subscr iptions 25c Extra, Fore ign 50c E x tr aSubscriptions toArmy Personnel Outside U. S. A. Must Be Mailed inConformity WithP. O. D. Order No.19687Address Correspondence to Desert Magazine, Palm Desert, California

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The village of Minersville, Utah, founded 95 years ago with the discovery o f theLincoln Mine, drowses beneath shady trees in a small green oasis completely sur-rounded by dry desert hills.

F orgotten M ine ofthe M orm on P ioneers . . .Nell Murbarger, headed for Minersville, Utah, on the trail of theold Lincoln Mine, little dreamed she'd find there a couple who hadspent all their lives in the isolated desert community. Moroni Myers,who came to Minersville 85 years ago, and his wife, who was bornthere, remember the Lincoln lead mine at the height of its productionand r ecall muc h about life in the early Mormon settlement. Nell Mur-barger tells their storyand the story of the Lincoln, once an importantlink in Brigham Young's chain of empire and believed by some to bethe first mine dis cove red in Utah.

By NELL MURBARGERPhotographs by the authorMap by Nor ton AllenSGE AND juniper of South-western Utah have spread theirmantle over trails deep-etchedby the wheels of forgotten wagons.Gray lizards warm themselves on sun-toasted sills and crumbling stone walls;and over the venerable streets ofMinersville, Time has laid that engulf-ing peace common to old towns whichhave had their day and sung their song.When I turned my car off UtahState Route 21 and headed down themain street of this old Beaver County

mining camp, it was not because Iexpected to find there any man whohad shared in those long-ago boomdays. At that time, I had never heardof Moroni Myers, so it seemed a littlepresumptuous even to hope that Imight locate someone who could showme the site of the old Lincoln mine.History of the Lincoln had fascin-ated me for a num ber of years. Thisinterest was attributable, in part, tothe important role played by the minein development of a pioneer empire;

and, partly, to the common belief thatthe Lincoln had been the first minediscovered in the State of Utah. Evenbefore gaining the attention of Ameri-cans, this rich lead deposit in theMineral Mountains is supposed tohave been systematically w orked, eitherby Spaniards or Mexicans. At an un-known time, and for an unknown rea-son, the mine was apparently aban-doned, and even its site was eventuallylost to man's knowledge.In the early 1850s, the loyal fol-lowers of Brigham Young swarmedover Utah, prospecting every dim cor-ner for natural resources which mightcontribu te to their progress. Withidolatry of material wealth condemnedby their church, these Mormons hadlittle interest in the superficial glitterof gold and silver. Ra the r, they wereseeking potential farm land, water andtimber and building stoneany usefulelement which might be turned to theupbuilding of a raw and rugged land.

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Moroni Myers, resident of Minersville for 85 years, stands at the headframe andincline shaft of the old Lincoln M ine, discovered and worked by the Morm onsin their early empire building days.

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' - & i To SALT LAKE CITY;'

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unvisited. Coal ledges and depositsof native iron ore had been discovered,and smelters established at Cedar Cityand Iron City had become the first millsin the Western United States whereraw ore was transformed into the vitaliron of commerce. Cast in local foun-dries and shaped on the anvils offrontier blacksmiths, this iron hadgone into use as gears for flour millsand saw mills, as plow-shares andwagon tires and ox shoes.With the iron industry barelylaunched in Southern Utah, the fledg-ling settlement of Great Salt Lake Cityhad been electrified by the news of arich lead discovery in the Mineralrange, 18 miles west of Beaver. Thiswas in the autumn of 1858; the dis-coverers were Isaac Grundy, Jesse N.Smith, Tarlton Lewis and William Bar-ton, all of Parowan.When samples of the ore were

shown to Brigham Young, the Mormonleader immediately became enthusedand directed that a company of men

To CEDAR CITY aST . GEORGE

establish a settlement near the mineand develop the vein. In addition tothe four discovererseach of whomreceived a 200-foot claim when thelocation was finally recorded on De-cember 7, 1870the founders of thetown of Minersville included John andSamuel Lewis, John Blackburn, Ed-win Bingham and James H. Rollins.During the first year of its revivedoperation, the Beaver county lead pro-ducer functioned under the name of"Spanish Mine" or "Old SpanishMine." In April, 1860, when JamesRollins became bishop of the Miners-ville ward, the mine was renamed"The Rollins." Not until 1870, whenit was first recorded, did the mine as-sume the name of a martyred warpresident, a name it has continued tobear for 82 years.This, and other skeletal information,I had gleaned from general sources

from old newspaper files, court recordsand biographical manuscripts in pos-session of the Utah State Historical

Society at Salt Lake City. But theflesh-and-blood story of the Lincolnand the town it fathered was somethingI hoped to learn through a personalvisit to Minersville.Halting at the small general store,which seemed to comprise the mainbusiness section of the town, I askedif there was some old timer who mightbe able to show me the site of the old

mine and give me a little authenticinformation concerning the early daysof the town."See Moroni Myers!" was the quickanswer. "If Moroni can't give you thehelp you need, there's no one whocan!"When the same question, put toanother of the town's inhabitants, pro-duced virtually the same response, Iwas satisfied that Moroni was the manto see.Following directions given, I soondrew up before an old adobe brick

house set down in a mass of old-fash-ioned flowers and vines. A man work-ing in the garden laid down his hoeand came up the path to meet me.Although so lightly built that onegust of wind might have whisked himaway, Moroni Myers was strong andhardy. His bright old eyes held awealth of good humor, and, I imag-ined, a trace of deviltry. As for beingthe town's historical oracle Moroniflatly disclaimed any such distinction."How could I know anything aboutthe early days at Minersville?" heblustered. "Heck! I'm just a Beaver

boy. Didn't even move to this fooltown till 85 years ago!""Eighty-five years!" I repeated in-credulously. "Then you can remem-ber when the Lincoln Mine was oper-ating?""The Lincoln?" he exclaimed. "Ishould remember when it was operat-ing. I worked there!"It had been a long while since hehad been over the old freight road tothe mine, but he believed it still mightbe traveled."Had some hard storms last winter,

and the road may be washed out inplaces," he warned. "Even when it'sin good condition, it's rough, and alittle steep . . ."When I assured him that my faith-ful old car thrived on rough, steeproads, and that I was thoroughly ex-perienced with washouts and the busi-ness end of a shovel, he went into thehouse to fetch "Mama," and the threeof us were on our way.M r s . MyersMoroni's wife for 64years proved to be comfortablyplump and completely likeable; and,

like her husband, came equipped witha built-in sense of humor.As I eased the car over the rutted

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trail that pushed ever higher anddeeper into the rocky hills to the northof Minersville, my hosts told of theiryouthful days in the old mining camp."Don't believe anything this womantells you about the early days here,"Moroni said, with a broad wink. "She'snothing but a Johnny-come-lately.Only been here a measly 80 years!""Well, at least," retorted Mrs.Myers, "I was born here. I didn' thave to sneak in from Beaver!""Yeah," said Moroni succinctly."She was born in a cellar!"M rs . Myers explained that her par-ents and brothers, who were nativesof England, had emigrated to Utahafter their conversion to the Mormonfaith."Reaching America, the folks camedirectly to Minersville, and Father andthe boys immediately set to workmaking a big cellar or dug-out for thefamily to live in.

"I t was roofed with cotton woodpoles and willow brush and cappedwith sod," she continued. "F athermade all our furniture from cotton-wood limbs. Even the bed I was bornin was built of cottonwood poles withrope woven back and forth acrossthem to support the mattress."Sometimes when I tell city folkshow we lived here when I was a girl,they seem to think that it must havebeen a terrible sort of life. Bu t I don 'tkno w," she laughed. "I seem to re-member the fun we had much moreclearly than I remember the hardships!"My brothers were very musical.They had brought with them fromEngland a concertina and a fiddle.'Most every evening a bunch of youngfolks would gather at our cellar homefor a danc e. No matter how hard theboys had worked during the day, orhow early they had to rise the nextmorning, they were always ready andwilling to provide dance music for thecrowd."Like Mrs. Myers' family, Moroni'sfather and grandparents had emigratedto Utah from England his fatherstopping for a while at Cincinnati andlater moving to Beaver, where Moroniwas bor n. Less than a year later, thefamily moved to Minersville whereMoroni 's grandfather and grandmotherhad located earlier."Father and grandfather spent mostof their time prospecting the canyonsor working in the Lincoln mine, whichwas always the big producer of theregion," said Moroni .We had reached the end of the oldroad, about five miles north of Miners-ville. We parked the car in the junipers. and walked the last hundred yards upa steep rocky trail. Scarring the mou n-tainside ahead of us was a bleak dump.

Mr. and Mrs. Moroni Myers who have resided in the old camp of Miners-ville, Utahr for a total of 165 years. (He for 85 years; she for 80 years.)

A gaunt, weathered headframe stoodsilhouetted against the sky. On a shortlength of rusty track stood a lone orecar. It was only mid-morning, butheat waves already were beginning torise from the roof of a small tin shedthat drooped against the dun-coloredhillside. In the brush, somewhere be-hind the shed, a quail was calling."There you are," said Moroni ."That's the Lincoln minewhat's leftof it!"That this common-looking inclineshaft could be the Old Spanish Mine,whose history so long had fascinatedme, seemed incredible! Here was amine whose known story had spannedvirtually the entire Anglo-Americanoccupation of Utah; a mine whose orehad supplied the bullets which broughtto frontier settlements a measure offreedom from hunger and protectionagainst marauding Indians.And yet, to look at it in a super-ficial way, was to see the counterpartof a thousand other shafts which- havepierced the mountains and deserts ofthe West!As Mrs. Myers wandered over thehillside in search of stray ore samples,

Moroni and I fitted our backs to thesun-warmed timbers of the old head-frame and discussed what we knew ofthose long ago days when this darksilent hole in the earth had been theBig Mine of the Minersville district.For the first two or three years afterre-discovery of the Old Spanish Minein 1858, extraction of the lead bullionfrom the rich ore had been accom-plished by means of a primitive Mexi-can-type furnace. Later, said Moron i,a larger smelter had been erected atMinersville and while it, too, had beena crude affair, it had proven surpris-ingly effective. Placed in a large "c up "over the firebox, the ore had beensubjected to extreme heat. As themolten metal formed in the cup, adrain in its bottom could be opened,thus enabling the pure lead to be runinto molds.

In Heart Throbs of the West, Vol-ume VI, published by Daughters ofUtah Pioneers, I had read a brief paperdealing with the history of the Lincoln;and from it, I knew that this soft,gray, vitally-needed metal had cometo Utah's struggling colonists like agift from the gods.J U N E , 1 9 5 3


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Old brick schoolhouse at Minersville, attended by both Mr. and Mrs.Moroni Myers almost three-quarters of a century ago."After the mine had been openedup and sufficient ore mined, the leadwas taken to Salt Lake City by wagonand team," Mrs. M. D. Zabuskie andMelassie Lee, both early settlers of thedistrict, recorded in the paper. "HenryRollins, the bishop of Minersville, tookone load to Salt Lake and traded thesame for groceries which were hauledback to Minersville by team and dis-

tributed among the poor in the town.The first shoes made available for theinhabitants of Minersville were broughtin at this time."Melassie Lee, daughter of BishopRollins, often recalled that when shewas a girl of eight or ten years, shehad helped day after day to mold thelead bullion into bullets for the settlersto use in defending themselves againstthe Indians. The bullion also was castand used as money, "which," the man-uscript naively stated, "was quite acuriosity in those days."After production had increased tosuch an extent that the little smelterat Minersville no longer could handlethe output of the mine, the ore wasfreighted to Milford for smelting.At last, after many years of success-ful operation, water flooded the Lin-coln in such volume that it could notbe brought under control by anymethod then available. Work accord-ingly ceased and the Lincoln lay idleuntil about 1900. Taken over by Eng-lish capitalists, the old mine then wassubjected to complete renovation; anew shaft was sunk and costly pump-ing equipment installed. After severalyears of intermittent and desultoryoperation, however, the Lincoln again

was closed and closed it remainstoday.As we made our way back downthe twisting road leading from themine to the valley, Moroni Myers di-rected me to halt the car at the pointwhere we emerged from the canyonand could look out over the thousandsof acres of desert hills spreading awayto the south and west of Minersville."See that old trail winding throughthe hills, yonder?" His pointing fingerindicated a faint gray scar on the gray-brown breast of the desert, far to thesouth. "That used to be themain roadto St. George. Went by way of RushValley. I worked on that road nearly70 years agoback in the days whenit was still being traveled by stagecoaches and covered wagons, and awheelbarrow was themost complicatedpiece of roadworking machinery thatwe had!"When I asked if he ever had driven

stage, he shook his head. "No," hesaid. "I never drove stage:; but I diddo lots of freighting."During the mining boom days atSilver Reef, Utah, andPioche, Nevada,he explained, there was great demandfor teamsters and freighters. Since hepreferred an outdoor life to work inthe mine or smelter, he had followedthis occupation for a number of years.Generally speaking, it was a businessthat paid well; but like any otherbusiness, said Moroni, there weretimes when things went wrong."One time I bought a fancy newwagon. Pretty as a picture on a bankcalendar!" the old man chuckled."Freight rates were sky-high, and I

figured I'd be able to pay for my newwagon with the first load or two ofgoods that I hauled from the railroadto Silver Reef."Well, the first load I carried wasa big shipment of dress goods and gro-ceries consigned to one of the generalmerchandisers at The Reef. Includedin the load was a five gallon can ofcoal oil."The roads, at that time, were roughas a 30 cent washboard, and full ofchucks and ruts. I was young andin a hurry, and the load bounced andrattled around until that pesky can ofcoil oil managed to upset and spillitself over all the other stuff!"I didn't know anything had hap-pened, of course, until I got to TheReefbut when that merchant foundhis shipment completely saturated withcoal oil, he was so mad he made mefreight for him without pay until Ihad worked out the value of that en-tire load of goods. And then," saidMoroni, "he was still mad!"We were back in town now, drivingthrough the quiet tree-shaded streetswhich these two old folks have knownduring all the days of their long lives." 'Roney and I went to school inthat old brick building, yonder," saidMrs. Myers. "Classes, in those days,were divided by readers instead ofgrades, and the highest it was possibleto go without leaving Minersville wasthe fifth readerabout the same asthe eighth grade today. We had onlyone teacher for about 80 pupils," shelaughed. "You can imagine howmuchindividual attention we got!"While Minersville never gained anyspecial note as awild andwooley boomcamp, the town was not devoid of itsrougher element. There was consid-erable drinking and gambling amongthe lead miners and the smelter men,and Moroni recalls that the midnightdarkness wasoccasionally disturbed bythe noise of fighting and the staccatoof gunfire.But today finds all this activity farin the past, and deeply buried.The Lincoln mine and scores ofother mines and prospect holes all lieidle on the hillsides, forgotten andforlorn. The smelter has vanished likethe smoke of last summer's campfires.Wheels of freight wagon and stage-coach have been silent for many ayear, and towering sage has swallowedthe trails over which they turned.Only for the name it bears, and afew old timers like the Myerses whostill "remember when," no one wouldguess that the peaceful old village ofMinersville, Utah, once had seethedwith the shining dreams and lusty lifeof a frontier mining camp.

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Stone spires and pinnacles rise several hundred feei high above the green forestedglen of Echo Canyon, Chiricahua National Monument, Arizona.

A D ay in C hiricahu a . . ."Carlsbad Cavern without a roof!" That is the way the ChiricahuaNational Monument in southeastern Arizona sometimes is described.Deep in the heart of the Apache country, the Wonderland of Rocks, asit is known to local people, is the home of one of the weirdest collec-tions of natural stone figures in the W est. Here is an intimate gl impseof a scenic area which is never over-crowded with visitors.By WELDON and PHYLLIS HEALDP ho tog raphs by Weldon H ea ldMap by Norton Allen5ERY TIME we drive thesmooth, black-topped road intothe Wonderland of Rocks wehav e a feeling of elation . Th ere is adelightful intimacy about this gem ofa national monument situated 'waydown in Arizona's southeastern cornerthat makes revisiting it like cominghome.Yet, along with its ever-presentcharm of the familiar, there is alwayssomething new to see. It may besome grotesque, unbelievable rock orsome startling scenic effect as insummer when great flashing thunder-heads build up strong and fierce tothreaten "China Boy," "Punch andJudy," "Donald Duck" and all the

other little people of this amazingworld of stone.We never walk through the monu-ment without finding new flowers, rareplants, or birds we never saw before.It is a veritable paradise for studentsof geology, botany, ornithology andall the other -ologies, with exhibits intheir particular subject neatly displayedand ready to be observed and classi-fied.Possibly one of the reasons thismonument gives such a friendly, homeyimpression is that it is small enoughand informal enough to possess a nick-name. You simply can't imagine re-ferring to giant Yellowstone, the GrandCanyon or Yosemite in any less dig-

nified manner than by their officialnames. Their size and grandeur pre-vent any familiarity. But tha t is as itshould be, for kings must remain kingsto all the people.However, the Wonderland of Rocksis different. It becom es a friend im-med iately. In fact, you have to knowit well to remember its official titleChiricahua National Monum ent. Thearea was set aside by President Cool-idge in 1924 and so named becauseits 17 square miles lie on the westslope of Cheer-ee'-cow-ah, the "BigMountain" of the Apaches. But tous who love it and return again andagain, the monument will always bejust the Wonderland of Rocks.All visitors register at monumentheadquarters, and 17,435 people fromevery state in the union did so in 1951.Here, beside Rhyolite Creek, in agreat wooded amphitheater rimmedwith rock is the administration build-ing and museum.All structures in the monument aresolidly built of native fieldstone andblend unobtrusively with their sur-

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At C hiricahua National Monu ment you are greeted by Superintendent ClairV. Cooke the Keeper of the Rocks.round ings. They are a heritage fromthe days of the hard-working CCCboys, who were also responsible forthe road, the 14 miles of wide, well-graded trail, and the commodious im-proved campgrounds. At headquar-ters you will be greeted by one of therangers or by Clair V. CooketheKeeper of the Rocks.Superintendent Cooke is a quiet-spoken, gray-haired man, handsome inPark Service uniform. A true West-erner, he was born on a Wyomingranch . Starting with the Forest Serv-ice in the Black Hills of South Dakota,Clair transferred to the Park Service.Carlsbad Caverns to Casa Grande toSequoia was the route he took tobecome superintendent of Chiricahuain 1944. He has a thorough knowl-edge, understanding and appreciationof his monument and is happy to tellyou about it or to guide you along thetrails, if he can spare the time. In fact,Clair's quiet good humor seems thekeynote of this little secluded world

where hustle and bustle are out ofplace and all visitors are encouragedto take their time, drive leisurely, walkslowly, and absorb the atmosphere aswell as the wonders.If Superintendent Cooke is away,you will be met by Robert L. Barrel,new ranger at Chiricahua. On our lastvisit, it was Ranger Al Henson, re-cently transferred from the Wonder-land of Rocks, who served as guide.We saw Ranger Henson and two youngmen measuring the stalk of a newly-sprouted agave with a long pole."Playing Jack and the Beanstalk?"we asked. Al Henson lowered thepole and laughed."N ot quite. I've been keeping arecord of this agave. It's grown asmuc h as three feet a day. Slowing upnow though to around 10 inches every24 hours." He introduced us to hisassistants. "T his is M r. Goeller ofHollywood and Mr. Knowlton of NorthHollywood."Cordial relations with the visitors

were quickly established. We learnedthat Mr. Goeller was a speleologist.Now to save time and trouble, let usstate immediately that this means acave scientistnot a cave man, noreven an amateur "Spelunker," but onewho seriously studies limestone cav-erns. And Mr. Goeller is consideredone of America's top cave authorities.William Knowlton admitted only tobeing a sincere and enthusiastic out-doors lover, but that in itself is a highrecommendation.

As this was their first visit to Chiri-cahua, we suggested that they drivewith us up to Massai Point and fromthere walk the four-mile loop trailthrough Echo Canyon, then bring ourcar back while we would be makingthe longer eight-mile hike by Heart-of-Rocks down to headq uarters. Theywere delighted with the plan, althoughMr. Goeller was slightly depressedwhen he learned there were no cavesin the rocks along the way.The gray-brown rhyolite and basaltformations at Chiricahua have beencarved by centuries of rain and melt-ing snow from an ancient lava field ofthe Tertiary Perio d. Some 12 to 15million years ago, so geologists say,ponderous flows of red-hot, moltenlava spewed from the earth, coveringthe country to a depth of several hun-dred feet. Lat er the whole field waslifted bodily and tilted by the growingChiricahua Mountains until it coveredthe west slope from the crest almostto the base. An d wh at is left of ittoday still clings to canyon and moun-tainside, startling one with some of themost fantastic and outlandish rocksculpture ever carved by Nature.

The six-mile drive up to MassaiPoint is a revelationan experiencein fantasy. Yo u can sense how Alicein Wo nderland mu st have felt. Onboth sides of the road through BonitaCanyon rise huge stone toadstools, up-ended cigars, picket-topped cliffs, tow-ers, spires, needles, balanced rocksand overhanging ledges defying thelaws of gravity. If you r imaginationis in good working order you canfind China Boy, with his square Ori-ental Hat, the mitred Bishop, PrayingPadre, the Boxing Glove, the UglyDuckling, and Cathedral Rock.

Then, on the windswept ridge ofthe Chiricahuas that leads to the Point,new vistas open . To the east is aglimpse of San Simon Valley, backedby blue New Mexican ranges; and onthe west spread the vast level grass-lands of Sulphur Spring Valley to thedistant granite peaks of the DragoonMountains, once the impregnablestronghold of the battling Apaches.

Most spectacular from MassaiPoint is Cochise Head, rising four10 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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- f c ^ % = i . BALANCED AREA \J H

L - . ' . ; " " % M I / ; ! 1

CHIRICAHUA NATIONAL MONUMENT 'miles northeast to an elevation of 8100feet. This colossal granite profile, withdomed forehead, jutting nose and ahundred-foot pine tree for an eyelash,looks serenely up to the blue South-western sky and is a fitting memorialto a great and wise chief who onceruled these wild mountains and out-spread valleys.Greatest of the Chiricahua Apacheswas Cochise. Originally friendly tothe pushing Yankees, he held his sav-age, warlike braves in check until theforked tongues and double dealing ofthe white man turned him into an im-placable and relentless foe. Fo r almost12 yearsfrom 1861 to 1872 Co-chise and his braves swept down fromtheir mountain fastnesses like devas-tating tornad oes pillaging, burning ,torturing and killing. No white man,woman or child was safe from thewrath of this avenging Apache andeven the United States army waspowerless against him. So he diedunconquered, a great American andone of the world's foremost militarygenerals.However, the Apaches were finallyvanquished, with the surrender ofGeronimo in 1886. But among thesetwisted, labyrinthine rocks one lonebron co Apach e lived on. He was Big-

foot Massai, a wild and furtive savagewho became almo st a legend. For fiveyears he fought Americans, Mexicans,and tame reservation Indians singlehanded, kidnapping squaws, raidingranches, rustling cattle and horses.Massai's huge footprints were last seenin Bonita Canyon in 1890 and it isprobable that he died in the areaanother proud, unconquered Apache.Parking at the end of the road onMassai Point, 6850 feet elevation, wewished we had brought a sandwich ortwo with us. Picnic tables are scat-tered among stunted cypresses, pinyonsand junipers which have the pictur-esque outlines of Japanese prints.Here you can lunch with the Wonder-land of Rocks spread out belowamaze of chimneys, columns, steeplesand dizzily-perched rocks bristling inbewilde ring .confusion from every ca n-yon, slope and crest. We know of nomore inspiring picnic area anywhere.Sandwichless, the four of us starteddown the path together. But in halfa mile we branched left, while ournew friends continued ahead, to makethe circle through Echo Canyon backto Ma ssai Poin t. They would followup the canyon's green, forested glenbetween stone spires and pinnaclesseveral hundred feet high, then thread

natural corridors among the soaringrocks barely wide enough to passthrough in some places. We mean-while climbed out of Rhyolite Canyon,passed the huge, unbelievable BalancedRock, then took the loop path throughHeart-of-Rocks, the most concentratedand extensive collection of bizarre nat-ural sculpture in the monument.Perpetually-quarrelling Punch andJudy and regal Queen Victoria posedstonily for their pictures, and we sawtwo birds new to usbut, of course,we had forgotten the bird book. Onehundred and seventy of the 650 birdsthat breed in the United States nestwithin a radius of a hundred miles ofthe monument, and 507 species ofplants, representing 80 botanical fam-ilies, have been collected there.Animals, birds and plants vary fromthe Upper Sonoran Life Zone in thevalleys to Hudsonian atop the highestChiricahua peaks at nearly 10,000 feetand they present a scrambled mixtureof Rocky Mountain, Pacific Coastand Mexican forms, mingled with nota few which are found only in thisarea. The magnificent Central Ameri-can coppery-tailed trogon is sometimesseen, as are thick-billed parrots, rarevisitors from south of the border. Youmay meet on Chiricahua trails the

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Mazes of chimneys, columns, steeples and balancedrocks rise from every canyon, slope and crest in Chiri-cahua National Monument. Cochise Head, with itsgreat stone profile in background.

Ranger AI Henson measures the growth of an agavestalk while Tom Goeller and Bill Knowlton look on.The botanical list for the Monu ment name s 507 speciesrepresenting 80 plant families.weird, synthetic-looking coati mundi,with pointed snout and long, uprighttail, or a bristling, pig-like collaredpeccary. But you can walk secure inthe knowledge that the last jaguar waskilled in these mountains more than40 years ago.Mrs. Clair Cooke, Elinor to herfriends, has made a study of the nat-ural history of the area and, whileshe does not claim to be an authorityon the birds, animals and plants ofthe monument, she loves to talk aboutthem with the constant stream of or-nithologists, zoologists, botanists, bird-ers, and specialists on flowers, ferns,snakes, moss and even ants, who havefound the Chiricahuas to be a happyhunting ground.Elinor's and Clair's was a romanceof the Wonderland of Rocks. For, asa visitor in 1946 at the Silver SpurGuest Ranch within the monument,she met the superintendent and be-came his wife. Born in Virginia andraised in Illinois, Elinor has broughta touch of the East to this Arizonawilderness. Their charming home,also stoutly stone-built by the CCC,is furnished with colonial pieces thatremind one of white, elm-shadedhouses in quiet New England towns.

But somehow the satiny walnut chestsof drawers, four-poster beds, tables,rockers and cane-seated chairs seemfitting and at home amid their strangefar western surroundings. Probablythis is because they share the adapta-bility of their owner who has happilyaccepted these great mountains, can-yons and valleys as her own.From the Heart-of-Rocks we de-scended the shady Sara Deming Trailto headquarters where we found theothers waiting for us. The shadowswere deepening among the rocks aboveand we had 20 miles of corkscrewingmountain road between us and home."Where are you headed for?" weasked as we got into the car."We had expected to spend aboutan hour here, then go on to Tucson,"said Bill Know lton. "B ut we've sortof fallen for your monument and aregoing to stay at the campgrounds to-night and see some more of it tomor-row."So the Wonderland of Rocks hadmade two more friends."It reminds me of Carlsbad Cavernswithout a roof," said Tom Goeller.This , you must admit, is high praisefrom a cave manwe mean speleolo-gist.

W E L L K NO WN DESERT RATIS FEATURED ON COVERIn the great desert Southwest thereare both desert rats and river rats, andArt Greene, the subject of this month'scover on Desert Magazine, enjoys thedistinction of belonging to both fra-ternities.Art and his wife, Ethel, with mem-bers of their family, operate the CliffDwellers Lodge on U. S. Highway 89at the base of the famous VermillionCliffs near the Colorado River's Nav-

ajo bridge. Associated with the Greenesare their daughters Ruth and Irene,and the latters ' husbands Vern Bakerand Earl Johnso n. The Greenes' mailaddress is Cameron, Arizona.In addition to operating the lodge,dining room and service station, theGreen family conducts charter motor-boat trips from Lee's Ferry up theColorado River to Rainbow Bridge inthe airplane propellor driven craftshown in the picture . It is a 3-daymotorboat trip with a six-mile hike tothe Bridge.The name of the boat, Tseh Na-ni-ah-go Atin, is Navajo for "Trail to theRock That Goes Over," meaning Rain-bow Bridge.

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One of the square stone towers in Hovenweep NationalMonument in Southeastern Utah. Why the towers werebuilt in the depths of a canyon has perplexed explorersand scientists ever since they were first reported byFathers Escalante and Dominguez in 1776. The mostreasonable guess is that they were prehistoric astronomi-cal observatories or temples for the worship of the sun.

Carefully shoveling away the dirt of centuries, archeol-ogists uncover crud e Stone A ge walls at a site 15 m ilesnorthwest of Hoven weep. Note occasional overlappingcourses one brick supported by two. There is noneof this at Mesa Verde, but it is well developed in ChacoCanyon, perhaps indicating the direction of the Hoven-weep people's migration.

Anc ien t Towers o f Mys t e r yA tower on a hilltop may be explained as a watchtower or a signalstationbut a tower on the floor of a canyon is a mystery. John StewartMacClary was one of the earliest visitors to Hovenweep National [Monu-ment, in the Four Corner s region of Southeastern Utah. Here is thestory of his explorations of the strange structures he found there, andhis theories a bout the primitive tribe which built them.By JOHN STEWART MacCLARYPhotographs by the author

cally speaking, in the Union, for takingit as a center, a circle drawn from it100 miles in diameter includes someof the largest and most attractive ruinsof pre-Columbian United States . FourCorners is situated geographicallynearest the heart of that area fromwhich the pueblos sprang, the: land of

IS only one locality inthe Union where four Statescome together at a commonpoint. Tha t locality is known as Fou rCorners, and the four States that ad-join are Colorado, Utah, New Mexico,and Ariz ona. It is situated in one ofthe most instructive areas, archeologi-

the mythical Sipapu. The massivepueblos of Chaco Canyon, the Cliffdwellings of Mesa Verde and themysterious habitations of Canyon deTsay (Chelly) are within this region.The adjoining areas of southwesternColorado and southeastern Utah aredotted with interesting relics of apeople that has disappeared, and al-most everywhere one turns are mon-umental indications of a pre-Colum-bian civilization antedating the adventof white men and reaching back to atime before documentary history be-gan."

In 1923 these dramatic statementswere published by the late Dr. JesseJ U N E , 1 9 5 3 13


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Walter Fewkes, famed American ar-cheologist and ethnologist. In thatsame year President Harding had setaside as Hovenweep National Monu-ment anarea of 286acres. Thegreaterpar t of this reservation lies in South-eastern Utah; the remainder is insouthwestern Colorado. The land iswaterless desert, but the ruins therepreserved are unique.Numerous towers, built on thefloorsof shallow canyons, stand there todayas they have stood through uncountedcenturies. Seeing them , one is imme-diately mystified: Who were thebuild-ers? W hat prehistoric emergencycaused selection of these sites andthis peculiar type of architecture?What became of the ancient stone-masons?Construction was not limited totowers on the floors of canyons.Buildings which mayhave been watch-towers crowned a few commandingpoints . One large communal group isof a size which prompted Dr. Fewkesto name it Hovenweep Castle.

The ruins first were reported bySpanish New Mexicans. In 1776,while exploring a feasible route for atrail to connect Santa Fe with Cali-fornia, Fathers Escalante and Domin-guez reported having seen themysteri-ous towers which even then lackedtenants. Evidently the padres spentno time investigating the structures,for only the briefest mention was ac-corded them in their diaries.Later American settlers of the re-gion were not so casual in the atten-tion which they gave the ancientbuildings. T hey won dered who theinhabitants had been and, promptedby curiosity rather than by scientificinterest, they gathered every piece ofpottery they could find. Dr. Fewkesfound a sizable collection of sherdsfrom Hovenweep in Dolores, Colo-rado. His trained eyes identified theware as resembling that found in theMesa Verde ruinsand he immedi-ately wondered whether the inhabitants

might possibly have been fugitivesfrom whatever caused the desertion ofthose cliff dwellings.The people of Hovenweep wereskilled farmers, and remains of checkdams and irrigation ditches are foundnea r their cornfields. Small storagecists were built beneath projectingbrows of cliffs. Too small to haveserved as dwellings, and lacking win-dows, these tiny rooms resemble thosefound at other ruins, where they con-tained large sealed jars filled withgrain.The number of dwellings at Hoven-weep indicates a large populationperhaps more people than there aretoday inUtah's entire SanJuan county.

Where didthese people go? Archeolo-gists suggest that, as the group grewin size, arable lands may have givenout, and communities thai: dependedon them were forced to migrate south-ward.The name Hovenweep is an Indianterm mean ing "dese rted valley." Thismight indicate Navajo, Ute or Paiute;all three groups include the expres-sion in their language, and all threeare familiar with theregion. Butnoneclaims the Hovenweep people as an-cestors.Why should towers have been builtby a people whose chief concerns evi-dently regarded agricultural problems?A nd why should such towers havebeen placed in deep canyon recesses?Many answers have been offeredto these questions. Since the Hoven-weep people seem tohave been chieflyinterested in harvesting abundantatleast adequatecrops, it seems logicalto me to suppose that most of thetowers were erected as astronomicalobservatories, from which plantingtime was determined by priestly ob-servation of sun, moon and stars. Asin the bottom of a well, confusingglares from the horizon were shut outby the canyon and the walls of thetower, and it was possible to observethe heavens at all times of day. Orperhaps they were temples for thepractice of sun worship.

During my explorations of Hoven-weep, I was particularly interested innumerous ruins about 15 miles north-west of the Hovenweep group. Whetheror not they were erected by the samewandering tribesmen has not beendetermined. The observatory type oftower is lacking, although numerousmounds have been found to containfoundations of towers. These watch-tower sitesif indeed that is whatthey wereare situated on elevatedpoints . The terrain at this locationalso is higher. With more elevationto begin with, the ancient stonemasonneed not build his tower so high. Fora people who had not learned the ele-mentary principle of lapping the jointsin courses of masonrywhose struc-tural skill seemed limited to stackingpiles of stonesthis was an importantadvantage.

A t the time of my first visit to Ho-venweep, a field party from the Colo-rado Historical Society under Paul S.Mart inlater to become Dr. Paul S.Martin of the Field Museum of Nat-ural History in Chicagohad movedinto this Hovenweep suburb for thepurpose of excavating and studyingits ruins. One kiva was cleared ofearth to reveal several examples oflapped masonry. This might indicatea cultural change in the technique of

the builders. Or, it might have re-sulted from the addition of a moreenlightened builder to the ranks ofthe Stone Age masons.While Hovenweep Monument isopen all year, it is most frequentlyvisited between early May and lateOctober. No ranger was present atthe time of my first visit. The onlyguide I had wascuriosity. A brochurehas since been published, first in 1938,discussing the ruins and giving direc-tions to themonument . I believe theseare distributed by the SouthwesternMonuments Association, Globe, Ari-zona.The Four Corners is a lonely region,and roads into it arepoor. If you areone whomust depend on filling sta-tion or garage help in an emergency,yo u hadbetter choose to visit the Na-tional Parks and Monuments wheresuch services arelying in wait for thetravelerbut not Hovenweep. Withevery mile you will feel more remotefrom your kind. Trees become scarcerand scraggier. Thesunlight is an un-relieved glare. Thewind is perpetual.It dries your skin and parches yourlips. Your thirst increases. Dust cov-ers you and sifts into your belongings.Progress is slow and jolting. Youwonder if the vehicle will hold up; ifyou arereally following the right road;if the ruins are still there at all. Themesa stretches flat and monotonousexcept for one weird mountain, theSleeping U te, along theUtah State line.

But if you do persist and advance;if you can ignore the absence of thehundred gadgets Americans call nec-essities; and if you can conjure withimagination until you make vivid toyourself the bands of human beingswho knew no other worldgo toHovenweep.Its piled stones from which the mudchinking has long since gone, will makeyou marvel. Its grouped rooms willsuggest the tasks andcrafts performedthere. Youwill find yourself searchingfor objects that are relics of the olddays. But few, if any, are to be found.Even the archeologists have moved toother and richer fields. Sun andwindalone continue to work upon the site.Once communties of men, womenand children lived and toiled, laughedand suffered in the light of the sunthat shines over Hovenweep towers.Archeology canpiece together enoughof the fragments to trace general out-lines of what the picture was. Butwhen I stood on the mesa's rim look-ing upon the ruined houses and towers

of the "deserted valley" archeologywas forgotten and there was only anoverwhelming sensation of emptiness,isolation and mystery.14 DESERT MAGAZINE


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portion of the field where red andesite carries seams and pockets of plume andmoss agate. Fine specimens of gypsum satin spar were found in the whitedeposit on the left.Field Day in M uggins HillsWhen Guy Hazen found seamsof plume agate in the andesite floatat the base of the Muggins Moun-tains in Arizona, he did what anyveteran prospector would d o underthe circumstances he fol lowedthe float to its source. An d thatis how the agate field, mappedand described in the accompany-ing story, w as d iscovered. Thisfield trip for Desert readers goesinto an area where there is muchof interest for historian and arche-ologist as well as rock collector.

By RANDALL HENDERSONMap by Norton AllenN 1937 Guy Hazen was roamingthe desert Southwest as a fieldpaleontologist for the AmericanMuseum of Natural History, seekingfossil deposits which would help thescientists piece together the story ofprehistoric life on this earth.Looking northwest from the littletown of Wellton on Highway 80 insouthern Arizona, Guy could see inthe foothills of the Muggins Mountains

several miles away some white depositswhich aroused his interest. White ma-terial in such a location as this couldbe the sedimentary deposit of an an-cient lake or streamand fossil bonesfrequently are found in such deposits.Hazen drove his desert car acrossthe dry bed of the Gila River and outinto the hills for a closer examination.Just as he had suspected, the whitishoutcrop was sediment of lake origin.A lake had existed here millions ofyears ago and eventually its dry bedhad been up-tilted and broken byStone cabin erected in Mug gins foothills by placer miners. The gold played outand the cabin has been abando ned. Klotho Temp le in the left backgroun d.

" ' . : " > * . : ' ' { ' "

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Guy Hazen, paleontologist and prospector. His sharp eyes have foundmany fields of fossil and gem material in the Southwest.

those powerful forces which downthrough the ages have brought con-stant change to the crust of the earth.Hazen found no fossils worth men-tioning, but the trip into the Mugginsfoothills yielded some other discover-ies which are of interest to rock col-lectors and archeologists.One of the by-products of his ex-cursion into theMuggins foothills wasthe discovery that a considerable areais underlaid with red andesite tuff andrhyolite containing stringers of agate m u c h of it gem material.And so Hazen hasbeen going backfrom time to time tobring out samplesof golden, green plume and moss

agate and sagenite and black and yel-low geodes.Hazen displayed some slabs of theagate from this field at Coachella Val-ley's gem and mineral show at Indio,California, in March this year, andinvited some of the other exhibitorsand myself to visit the field with him."There is more material in twosquare miles of that area than all therockhounds in the Southwest will beable totake out in thenext 100years ,"Guy explained. "A few collectorshave been going in there by car andairplane already, and since the ma-terial is soplentiful I amglad to share

my knowledge of this field with Des-ert Magazine readers ."The trip was arranged, and weleft Indio early in the morning ofMarch 17 in Desert's new jeep sta-tion wagon. At Winterhaven on theColorado River we were joined byHugh and Dorothy Proctor of Oasis,California, andHenry Beekly of LongBeach.We crossed into Arizona and fol-lowed Highway 80 through TelegraphPass in the Gila Mo untains. This isthe only place in the United Stateswhere Elephant trees of Sonoran or-igin may be seen from a paved high-wayand I always scan themountain-side to see howmany of them I canidentify as I go through the pass.Just east of the Gila Range is thelittle service station settlement of Li-gurta and four miles beyond Ligurta(approximately 5 miles west of Well-ton) we turned left off the pavement

on a dusty silt road that crosses theGila River Valley. The U. S. Reclama-tion Bureau is nowbringing ColoradoRiver water to 75,000 acres in theGila Valley, known as the Wellton-Mohawk project, and our road con-tinued along the edge of lands beingcleared and leveled for farming.Our course was due north, and atthree miles from thehighway our roadended where the gravel banks of theMuggins foothills meet the silt soil ofthe Gila Valley floor. The spot ismarked by a little cluster of trees andan abandoned shackonce known asthe Johnson ranch. A pump wasonceinstalled near here to irrigate a largeacreage of river bottom land. But thepump was long ago discarded, andthe lands are nowbeing brought backinto use with Colorado River waterfor irrigation.At the oldJohnson ranch we turnedto our right on a historic oldtrail thatfollows along the north side of theGila. The Gila Valley has alwaysbeen a natural route for east andwest travel across southern Arizona,and this trail wasused by the prehis-

toric Indians and more recently bysuccessive caravans of white menthe padres of Father Kino's day, JuanBautista de Anza and his colony ofCalifornia settlers, theMountain Men,Kearny's Army of theWest, the Mor-mon battalion, the Butterfield stagesand Mexican settlers bound for theWest Coast.Today, the Gila River below Cool-idge dam is dry except where an oc-casional seepage spring moistens theground for a short distance. Butuntilthe white man dammed the river in1928 there was a little stream of waterin the channel most of the year, andat times it swelled to flood proportions16 DESERT MAGAZINE


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when heavy rains occurred in the up-per basin.The trail we followed, at the toe ofthe Muggins foothills, has been usedlittle in recent years, and it was roughand cro oke d. Bu t it is still passa ble.On the gravel ridges along the upperside of this old road are scores ofboulders in which are incised theglyphs of ancient tribesmenthe Ho-hokam, perhaps, and the Pimas andMaricopas and Yumas. These petro-glyph-covered boulders extend for

miles along this rou te. Lieut, WilliamH. Emory whose record of Gen.Kearny's march provides a vivid pic-ture of this trail as it appeared over100 years ago, mentioned these glyphsand sketched some of them for theReport o f a Military Reconnoissancewhich he prepared for the U. S. Sen-ate after the historic trek of Kearny'sArmy of the West.We continued along this old roadabout three miles and then turned lefton one of the gravel tongues and

headed b ack into the foothills. At 1.3miles from this junction we passed anold bentonite mine, now abandoned.From this point our guiding landmarkwas Klotho Temple, the most con-spicuous peak in the Muggins rangetw in peaks to be exact. We fol-lowed old jeep tracks across arroyosand along gravel ridges, always head-ing toward Klotho when we couldsee the twin peaks in the distance.At about 2V2 miles from the ben-tonite mine we came to a section cor-This rock circle, similar to those found in many places in the Southwest, is a relicof prehistoric Indian occupation but no one can say for certain what its usemay have been.

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ner which marks the extent of theagate field on the north. The ironsurvey post is at the corners of Sec-tions 15, 16, 21 and 22 in Township8 South, Range 19 West. The mainagate field extends over Sections 16and 21. It occurs in the arroyos asfloat and underlays much of the loosematerial on thehillsides.The last three miles of the route wetook to get into this field is strictly ajeep trail, but it is possible for agatecollectors to hike into the field by amore direct route in less than half ofthat distance, from the point at whichstandard cars should be parked a halfmile below the bentonite mine.Two hours of daylight remainedwhen we had selected our overnightcampsite along an arroyo where therewas anample supply of dead ironwood,an d we scouted a small sector of thefield.We found the arroyos strewn withboulders carrying stringers and pock-ets of agate. A hand-pick is neces-sary to break the boulders to discoverthe agate they contain. A small sledgewould be even more effective, especi-ally on the sidehills where agate bear-ing andesite is in place.There are many shades and formsof agate hereplume in both goldenand green, moss, picture and sagenite.M uch of it, Guy Hazen told us, willfluoresce. At one place I found acamp where miners evidently hadspent several days mining geodes in

a loose gravel formation. But theyhad scarcely touched the potentiali-ties of thefield.A t onepoint where thelight coloredmaterial of the ancient lake sedimentswas exposed, Henry Beekly took outsome lovely specimens of white satinspar of gypsum. It hasmuch the sametexture as asbestos, and is a highlyperishable form of material.While the gypsum specimens werepretty, the field for themost part yieldsonly cutting material. There are nonice cabinet specimens of agate scat-

tered over the surface to be picked upby casual collectors. The agate is ina matrix that must bebroken or sawedbefore the beauty of the gemstone isrevealed.There is little vegetation over thehills where the agate is located. Ascattered growth of creosote bush andan occasional saguaro, ocotillo andencelia are all that have gained rooton the hills. In the arroyos are iron-wood and palo verde, with plenty ofdeadwood for campfires.W e saw much evidence of wildburros . In some instances their trackswere imprinted over the treadmarksof our own tires, indicating the closeproximity of theanimals . But wenever

caught a glimpse of one of them. Theyare wary animals.During the morning after our ar-rival we spent several hours explor-ing the field andgathering small sacksof material. But in that limited timewe covered only a small part of theterrain where agate is found. Hazen,who over a period of years has cov-ered the field thoroughly, told us that

over a ridge to the south he had foundblack geodes.This is a mineral field where thecasual rockhound whoseeks only suchpretty specimens as may be foundlying on top of theground will be dis-appointed. The agate occurs only inseams or in pockets in the adesite,an d it is necessary to pack out about10 pounds of matrix for every pound

4fc Ull 12'

8

Here's another lesson for those who are en-r 0 ' l e c l m ftewt Magazine's- School lorDesert Rats . The tenderfoot may find someof the questions rather difficult, but there is no penalty for making amistake. Andyou'll know better next time. A score of 12 to 14 is fair,15 to 17 is good, 18 or over is superior. Theanswers are on page 41.1An arrastre isAn oldSpanish mill to grind corn . A primitiveweapon forkilling rabbits A Spanish term for themeasurementof land Adevice forgrinding ore2According to legend the Lost Dutchman mine in Arizona is inThe Superstition Mountains _ Castle Dome MountainsHarquahala Mountains._.... . Catalina M ountains .3If youowned a cinnabar mine with a mill for processing the ore youwould ship your product to market inIngots FlasksBags . Bales4Traveling through Arizona on Highway 66 you would not passthrough one of these townsFlagstaff . Wickenburg . Hol-brook Ashfork5Boyce Thompson Arboretum is located inNew Mexico . Cali-fornia Utah . A r i z o n a .6The Colorado River tributary which Powell named "The DirtyDevil" is now generally known asVirgin River . FremontRiver Hassayampa River Verde River7"Mescal P i ts " of the ancient tribesmen of Southern California wereused forStoring grain Roasting agave . Ceremonial pur-poses Burying thedeadThe pinnacle known as Weaver's Needle is associated with storiesofT he Lost Pegleg gold Lost Breyfogle Mine LostDutchm an Mine Lost Arch Mine9Sevier Lake is inUtah-. . New Mexico Arizona .Nevada10The book Death Valley in '49, was written byGeorge WhartonJam es William Lewis Manly . W. A. Chalfant . J.S meaton Cha s e . - .11The blossom of thelarrea or creosote bush is Pin k, .W hiteYellow . Lavender12The Spanish spelling of Arizona's state flower isSaguaroSawhero Suguaro Saguero13The home of theAcoma Indians is inArizona NevadaUtah New Mexico\A Most of the land in southern Arizona was acquired by the United

States through Conq uest Treaty with theApache IndiansGadsden Purchase . Seizure byKearny's Army of theWest15One crosses the Algodones Sandhills while traveling in CaliforniaonHighway 99 . Highway 80 . Highway 60 ..... High-wa y 6616One of the following is a contemporary artis tEdwin CorleBarry Goldw ater Clyde Forsythe Oren Arno ld17Tahquitz is thename of one of the gods of theYuma IndiansMojave Indians Cahuilla Indians . Cocopah Indians18The Escalante River is a tributary of theGreat Salt LakeGila River San Pedro River . Colorado River19Davis Dam in theColorado River was named inhonor of a formerNevada senator . Director of the Reclamation BureauSecretary of Interior Governor of Arizona20Indians of San Ildefonso pueblo in NewMexico arebest known fortheir Pottery Beadwork Rug weaving Silver-smithing

18 DESERT MAGAZINE


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of agate that is recovered. The m a-terial will have little beauty until itis slabbed and polished. How ever,there is a wide range of material inthis field and for the collector whohas his own lapidary equipment, itoffers the opportunity to acquire someexceptionally fine gem rock.Leaving the field the next afternoonwe stopped along the old Gila Valleyroad to take pictures of some of thepetroglyphs which are so plentiful onthe gravel mesas. I saw several of thestone circles which are rather com-mon in the Southwestrock rings evi-dently put there long ago by Indians.These circlesin this instance abouteight feet in diametermay have beenthe foundations of wickiup huts, orthey may have been put there forceremonial purposes. The archeolo-gists have never given a conclusiveanswer to this question.For many years I have wanted toclimb the imposing rock tower in theMuggins Mountains marked on themaps as Klotho Temple or KlothoPea k. I believe this also is the pin-nacle marked on some maps as Cor-onation Peak because of the fanciedresemblance to a crown.Guy Hazen offered to show me aroute to the base of the mountainand since I may go back there someday and attempt to go to the summit,we took time out to follow an oldprospector's road which ends at anunoccupied rock cabin within three-quarte rs of a mile of the base. Klothois no t high. Will C. Barn es in Ari-zona Place Names, now out of print,lists it at 14 22 feet. Its sidewalls arevery precipitous, but I am confident aroute can be found to the top.Norton Allen's map, accompany-ing this article, shows the roads wefollowed going into the agate field inMa rch this year. Bu t the roads acrossGila Valley are changing from monthto month, due to the vast program ofland development now taking placethere. Where the trails once woundthrough mesquite and willow on thefloor of the valley, bulldozers are nowblocking the area out in rectangularfarms, with road rights-of-way onlyalong section and quarter section lines.But the agate in Muggins foothillsis not hard to find. It covers a hugearea, and the old reliable methodused by miners for hundreds of yearsfind the float and follow it to itssourceeventually will lead any rock-hound into the heart of the field.

These boulders, incised with theglyphs of prehistoric tribesmen, arefound along the base of the Mug-gins foothills for many m iles. Themeaning of these symbols is notknown.

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20/44

L I F E O N T H E D E S E R TBy CARITA SELVAS

S A CHILD I lived for a shorttime at Daggett, a little railroadand mining center on theMojave desert. From Daggett wereshipped, by the Santa Fe railroad, allthe vast mineral riches of the nearbyCalico M ounta ins. and Death Valley.It was then miles from civilization.Barstow, then a tiny railroad junc-tion, was about nine miles west. Twoor three miles east was the station,section house, and railroad water tankof New berry. The roaring miningcamp of Calico lay a few miles to thenorth. This was our world a happy,contented world, though a strange one.The sights I was wont to behold atDaggett never lost interest to me. Therewere huge mines and rough miners,and great roaring silver stamp mills,where the ore was crushed and madeinto bullion for shipment. There werethe 20-mule team borax wagons andtheir trailers, driven with a single jerkline by extremely rough and readyteamsters. And there were heavilyladen pack trains of little mouse col-ored, long-eared burros to excite mywo nder. Ma ny of these half wild littlecreatures wandered freely about thetown. They had been set free by theirformer owners who had deserted thisdry country. Happ y the child whowas able to corral one for a slow, andusually short ride! Never shall I for-get the rude awakening I had and thestars I saw when I tried to ride one.He objected!

But best of all, were the fine people,kind hearts, and sincere friendships tobe found at Daggett.On the other side of the tracks wasthe business sectiongrocery stores,many saloons, and a dance hall openall night. Th ere , too, was all the vicewhich usually went with a wide openwestern town . Ou t the far corner ofmy eye I often caught glimpses ofpainted, flashily dressed women, whoseemed apart from the desert town.But my straight-laced New Englandmother, not long from her Bostonhome, always hurried me on withaverted eyes.Among all these strange new sights,nothing filled me with greater wonderthan the bands of Mojave Indians whoroame d at will over the desert. Theirhome was on the Fort Mojave Indianreservation, just over the border inArizon a. I never failed to welcomethe arrival of these strange rovingpeopleunusually tall handsome men,with long black hair and flashing eyes,and their fat, squatty women with

This is another of the winning manuscripts in DesertM aga zine 's 1952 Life-on-the-Desert contest. W innersof the 1953 contest wh ich c losed M ay 1 will be an-nounced in a future issue.their painted and tattooed faces, andthe little greasy, beady-eyed papoosesstrapped upon their backs. The youngMojave girls were quite trim and prettybut, when older, they grew fat andunkempt.Although I had been taught bothto fear their anger and respect therights of the Mojaves, I liked to ob-serve them from a safe distance. Theywere so unconscious of their sur-roundings, so delightfully unconven-tional in dress and mann er. They borethemselves with such a proudly su-perior air that the little town lookedupon them with mingled respect andfear.The Mojaves enjoyed almost un-limited freedom among us. No onedared to tamper with them or excitetheir revengeful anger. One look fromthose fiery, eagle eyes was enoughto overawe one of only ordinary cour-age. Even the Santa Fe Railroad offi-cials, fearing their treachery, madefriends of these "children of the des-ert" by allowing them to ride free attheir own sweet will on top of, orinside the empty freight cars. An dthey were not slow about using thisprivilege, but kept up an almost con-stant journeying back and forth be-tween the little desert towns scatteredalong the railroad. Sometimes, whenthe mesquite beans were plentiful there,they camped in the dry river bed nearDaggett for weeks at a time, buildingrude shelters of brush and sticks.

My family lived in a large com-fortable old adobe house, with a wideveran da along its two sides. It wasbordered by a row of tall shiny greencottonwood trees. These were keptalive in summer by a stream of waterfrom the faucet.This cozy desert home had beenbuilt by an old time saloon keeperwho had grown affluent, and hadsought fairer fields of end eav or. Itwas located on the right side of thetracks, for the railroad ran throughthe middle of the town, with a verywide sandy street on either side. Itsformer owner had surrounded theplace with a tight foundation, toppedwith a high white picket fence. Thiswas to keep out rattlesnakes and side-winders, we were told. This informa-tion did not add much to my tender-foot mother's comfort, and occasion-ally these unwanted visitors did slitheracross our yard. We children weretaught to be on guard against them,as well as against scorpions, centipedesand tarantulas.

One exceedingly hot dayhot evenfor the desert we were trying tomaintain some slight degree of comfortby means of fans and cooling drinks.Suddenly we heard the rumble of anapproaching train and soon after, thewell known cry, "The Mojaves arecoming!"Yes, the Mojaves certainly werecoming! In the clear desert distancewe could discern the slow movingfreight train, far up the track towardNewberry. On top of the cars, swarm-ing like insects, were the gaudy redand yellow decked forms of the Mo-jave women and the tall, dark ones oftheir men.Accustomed as was every dweller inthe desert to such sights, we never-theless watched with great interestwhile the train drew up at the stationand the crowds of strange dark peopledescended from their lofty perch. Trueto their Indian nature, they utterednever a word, but deposited theirgaudy blanket rolls, their only encum-brance, upon the sand near the tracksand there, under that broiling middaysun, evidently wearied by their longjourney, one after another dropped offinto heavy sleep.

But to one fat, wrinkled old squawthis hard couch on the hot sand wasevidently distasteful. After tryingvainly to make herself comfortablewith the rest, she gathered up a dirtyold sack and, without further ado,crossed the street, deliberately openedour latched front gate, and walked in.Mother watched her approach frombehind the locked screen door withsome uneasiness, for she judged, frompast experience, that she would askfor, or help herself, to anything shemight fancy, from an ice cold drinkto our best Sunday bonnets.But it was soon evident that thiswoman wanted only a quiet nap. Shemarched straight up the steps to theshady veranda and, depositing herdirty sack before the front door with-out so much as "by your leave," threwherself down upon it and went to sleep.There she lay, obstructing the door-way for hours, while no one dared todisturb her slumber.At last we were led by a mightygrunt to believe that she had awak-ened, and the belief was soon con-firmed when a dishevelled form ap-peared before the locked screen anda dirty hand shook it until it trembledon its hinges."Ugh," she grunted, "heap hot, youget dinner?"

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"No," mother answered politely,but fearfully, taking courage from thelocked screen. "No dinner today. Yougo now? Goo dbye."And then, such a look of rage anddisgust crossed that squaw's face.Doubling up her grimy fist, she shookit before our faces, and muttered omi-nously, while her wild black eyesnever left ours."W hite squaw, no good. Kill whitesquawburn house!" And giving thedoor a parting kick, she took up herbed and departed, all the while threat-ening us with her angry eyes andmuttering curses.As if this were not enough excite-ment for one day, that night thereappeared on the scene, we knew notfrom whence, a character who I be-lieve has long since disappeared fromwestern lifea grizzled itinerant lead-ing his dancing bear. All the populace,including the visiting Mojaves, gath-ered in the wide moonlit street to watchthe bear perform.The master holding the chain, whichwas fastened to the animal's steelmuzzle, brought him slowly up on hishind legs. Then to his master's rhyth-mic chanting, "De, da, de,de, da,de ,de , da, de, de," the great bearcavorted about in a clumsy sort ofdance.

The Mojave braves holding thecenter of the stage with the bear andhis master, burst into shouts of de-lighted laughter. One huge young In-dian seized another by his long blackhair and pulled him about in laugh-able imitation of the dancing bear,meanwhile chanting "de, da, de,de,da, de,d e, da, de, de." This wasthe first indication of Mojave humorthat any of us had ever seen, and itwas really funny.

Next day, the Mojaves still lingeredin Dagg ett. M oth er, still a little fearful,insisted that we children stay close athom e. She was trying to amu se us byreading a story, when suddenly thegreat black faces of two Mojave menwere pressed close against the windowpan e. Ha nds shading their eyes, theycalmly surveyed the interior of our bigliving room . Ou t of sheer fright andnervousness, I began to giggle.

"Don' t laugh. Don' t notice them,"warned mother in an unde rtone. Butthe hand that held her book trembled.After a few minutes, which seemedhours, evidently having seen all theycared to see of the white man's civili-zation, they passed on toward theirdesert camp . But on the way out theynonchalantly helped themselves toour cherished pets four adorable,little fat puppies, which we had placedin a box, with their mother, on thecool side of the house.

This was too much! When we chil-dren discovered our cataclysmic loss,we set up a loud wailing. Even m othe r,inclined to temporize with all Indians,was roused to action. She notified thetown constable and with a small possehe rode out to the Indian camp andrecovered our pets.We were told by an old desert ratthat the Mojaves undoubtedly had in-

tended to cook and eat our puppies.But we never really knew whether itwas hunger, or malicious mischief,which, in return for our inhospitalitypromp ted them . After a few days thewhole band left town and we neveragain saw our uninvited guests. Butwe took warning from these experi-ences and never again so rudely re-fused the request of a Mojave Indian.

An erratic pattern of precipitationwas recorded over the Colorado RiverBasin in March, with percentage val-ues ranging from 50 percent to 164percent of norm al. Average precipi-tation, according to water supply fore-casts of the U. S. Weather Bureau andSoil Conservation Service, v/as only67 percent of normal, and the overallwater picture remains unfavorable.The picture is brighterbut stillnot goodfor the Salt and upper GilaRiver basins, which experienced above-normal precipitation for the first monthsince Nove mbe r. Precipitation forMarch averaged 200 percent of normaland brought some relief to the area.Precipitation amounts of slightly abovenormal were reported for the upperLittle Colorado River and for theTonto Creek basins. Over the VerdeRiver and the lower Little Coloradoall precipitation totals for the monthwere below normal.Reports from the various watershedsare as follows:

Colorado River above Cisco A l-though some increases are noted inthe current forecasts, the outlook forthis portion of the basin still is notfavorab le. Me dian forecasts for themain stream and its tributaries aboveCameo and for the upper GunnisonRiver Basin call for 62 to 84 percentof the 10-year average run-off, lessthan any one season since 194 0. Th eoutlook for the Dolores and Uncom-pahgre River basins is even less prom-ising. Current forecasts for thesestreams call for streamfiows of ap-proximately half of the 10-year aver-age.

Green River BasinForecasts forstreams in Utah are lower than thoseissued March 1. The current water-supply outlook is for run-off of 77percent of average for HuntingtonCreek and Price River, and flows ofonly 55 percent of the norm are ex-pected for the Duchesne River atMy ton.San Juan River Basin Below-normal March precipitation necessi-

tated slight downward revisions inforecasts issued April 1. Current fore-casts for the basin call for flows rang-ing from 45 percent of average for theSan Juan near Bluff, Utah, to 60 per-cent of average for the Los Pinos nearBayfield, Colorado.Little Colorado River BasinMarchprecipitation over the Little ColoradoRiver Basin was not sufficient to im-prove the poor water-supply outlookfor the basin. November-June run-off for the Little Colorado at Woodruffis still expected to be only 30 percentof average.Gila River Basin Although theheavy March precipitation over theupper Gila and Salt River basins waseffective in increasing this month'sforecasts by 8 to 13 percent over thoseof the month previous, the outlook for

these basins is still not good. TheNovember-June flow of the Gila Riverat Solomon is forecast to be only 37percent of the 10-year average. Some-what more promising are predictionsfor the Salt River and Tonto Creeknear Roosevelt; nearly 60 percent ofaverage run-off is in prospect for thesetwo streams. The forecast for theVerde River is little changed from theMarch 1 report; 4 percent of averageflow is expected if precipitation forthe rest of the season is near normal.The one bright feature of the out-

look for the Salt and Verde basins isthe high carry-over of storage in theSalt-Verde reserv oir system. As ofMarch 15 stored water in San CarlosReservoir was approximately 150 per-cent of norm al. On the other hand,the March 15 stored water in SanCarlos Reservoir was only seven per-cent of normal. Elsewhere in the Southwest, water'supply forecasts were as discouragingas in the Colora do Basin. Snow run-off was below normal almost every-

where, and low in water content.Again, large reservoir supplies wereone bright spot in an otherwise gloomywater picture.J U N E , 1 9 5 3 21


22/44

HOMESTEADTen Years AfterBy R. WAYNE CHATTERTONCaldwell, Idaho

This place hasbeen ordained to desolation,And I have watched it year by year.These man-made works aredoomed todese-cration,For allalone, sobare andsear,They fall, expire, become a barrenness.When I first came, these hills wore desertdress,Which fence andcabin could notdispossess.So now the sand, with grim determination.Creeps back on all that I constructed here.The structures rot away with mold forma-tion,A wistful end, a false career.Here age anddust will be thetermination.While nature gives todeath a bierOf stone and sage andendless emptiness.I should have known when I first came,unless,Perhaps, thedesert had with guilefulnessContrived tohide itsgreat determination.And itsintent toconquer allthat's here! BEYOND THEROAD

By CONSTANCE WALKERLos Angeles, CaliforniaGreen chaparral beyond theroadSurrounds a quiet placeWhere mesquite shelter hasbestowedA sanctuarygrace.Wind-rippled sand leads in anaisleTo candled Yucca plantAnd there ispeace onearth awhileWhere winging choirs chant.

DESERT STREAMBy MYRTLE A. KRAUSEGlendale, California

Just anever ending trickle,Now you see it, now it'sgone,Desert waters are sofickle,Uncertainly they move along.Far in the hills, down through can-yons gleamingThe .streamlets form like silverstrands;When they reach the place with theheat waves teemingThey hide unseen beneath thesands.When clouds obscure the distantmountains,And rain pours down from troubledskies;These little streams become likefountainsAnd rushing torrents quickly rise.

By TANYA SOUTHThere is a bond between each oneWith all therest,However each has lived, or doneHis worst or best.And be he calm, or full of strife,

In faith or doubt,He'll still be one with all of life,Within and out.

By ELLA LOUISE HEATLYLong Beach, CaliforniaA lonely cabin hugs thehill.Half hidden in a fringe of firs;Rough hewn, square-built andobdurate,Defying winter's icyspurs.Within, a manhis book, his pipe,And near his chair a sleeping do g;Lamp shadows flicker merrily,Sparks burst from brightly burning log.The man? He, too, isrugged, gnarled,Deep lines crisscross hisleathered face,His thinning hair is streaked with whiteTime's ruthless hand has left itstrace!Vicissitudes and joys are metBy stoic silence on hispart;Without, a calm severity;Within, a warmly glowing heart.

O man andcabin, king andthrone,Remain steadfast, through timeandweather!Your outward scars hide inner grace;Stand firm! Share destiny together! ITINERANTS

By GRACE BARKER WILSONKirtland, NewMexicoStorms are itinerants, following the wind-ways,Over themesas anddown deep ravines;Constantly moving, and changing forever,And flickering across thegray desert screens. ROAD LURE

By GRACE STILLMAN MINCKAnacortes, WashingtonThe little oldroad says, "Come, I knowWhere pine trees greet thedawn;Where, over polished rocks, theflowOf mountain streams runs on"But all I answer is,"On your way!I have work to dotoday."Then thelittle oldroad smiles in thesun,Replies, "O.K., but I will windOver desert sands andoften runHorizon distances, and findWhere sunsets heap their surplus gold;Where stars are rarest gems and""Hold!"I cry, rebellious, "take myhandShow me this world of desertland."

DESERT GRATITUDEBy RACHAEL DUNAVEN YOCOMNew York City, New York

When I first saw thedesolate terrain,The bleak, unending vistas of thesage,My heart grew sick with longing for therain,To quench the thirst of this dryfoliage.I looked again andcould not butadmire,The sturdiness With which theheat wasfaced;And m arveled at itscourage toaspire,This grim, forbidding, barren land tograce.An d as I rode o'errolling hills, I'dsee,Green valleys nestling at their feet,andthenI knew each blade of grass, each lovelytree,Stood as a living monume nt tomen.Each spring the desert's gratitude isshown,In color, saying: "C arry on! You're notalone!"

22 DESERT MAGAZINE


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P i c t u r e s o f t h e M o n t hSuspecting mischief, the little white kid sniffs his Navajoplay ma te's hand for a hidden treat. The Indian youngstersand their pet were photographed at Kayenta, at the entranceto Monument Valley, by Dr. J. Robert Lindsay of Ganado,Arizona. Dr. Lindsay used a Busch Pressman camera, SuperXX film, W allens ak Rap tar le ns, 1/100 seco nd at f. 16 forthe photograph, first prize-winner in Desert's April contest.

*Secon d prize for April wen t to Hetty Coo per of Flagstaff,Arizona, who took this picture at the Hopi mesa village ofMishongovi in Northern Arizona. The ladder in the fore-

ground leads down into a sacred underground ceremonialroom, the kiva. Mrs. Cooper use d a Rolleiflex cam era, K2filter, Super XX film, 1/100 second at f. 16.IT T

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COUNTY MMany New Issues A PSUtmost detailsfor offices, realtors,bermen, sportsmen, Miners, etcslips, rug,Sec. Mines, all roads,B.R., Elevations, Ntl. Frsts. etc.AlamedaAlpineAmadorRutte _ _CalaverasColusaContra CostaDel NorteEldoradoFresnoFresnoGlennHumboldtHumboldtImperialInyo, East andWest Half,Kern___ KernKingsLakeLassen -LassenLos AngelesLos AngelesMaderaMarinMariposa - -MendocinoMercedModocModocMonoMonterevNapaNevadaOrangePlacerPlacerPlumasPlumasRiversideRiversideSacramentoSan BenitoSan Bernardino, No. ya orSan BernardinoN.W. 'ASan BernardinoS.W. 'ASan BernardinoN.E. V*San BernardinoS.E. /4San DiegoSan DiegoSan FranciscoSan JoaquinSan Luis OblspoSan Luis ObispoSan MateoSanta BarbaraSanta BarbaraSanta ClaraSanta Cruz .ShastaShastaSierraSiskiyou__SiskiyouSiskiyou___SolanoSonomaStanislaus ..SutterTehamaTehamaTrinityTrinityTulareTuolumneVenturaYoloYuba

Most maps are drawn to scale

With Luni-Twn-trails( strms..20x30.17x23.20x30.29x3321x31.24x2519x2824x25.24x39.28x50..42x75.18x33.20x3630x56.31x51e a ...38x78.26x58.27x29.24x36.26x3638x55.42x44.33x3523x5023x24.29x33.36x48.34x36.34x4128x2423x67.42x52.20x28.22x3823x24.26x46.30x17.33x4027x2227x98...18x66...26x3210x38S o . \l-i

...38x4926x34.36x40,22x34.35x56.38x2420x32.36x38.33x23...25x33.19x24. .34x49. .33x24. 1 6 x 3 139x62...26x4320x32. .22x25...29x3634x36. 21x24...26x48. .17x32...33x52. . .23x3438x49...31x43.27x34.25x28...22x29

$1.001.001.001.001.001.001.001.001.002.505.001.001.002.502.007.505.002.501.001.001.003.003.001.001.501,001.002.501.001.501.003.003.001.001.001.001.501.001.501.005 002.501.001.007.503.753.753.753.752.501.001.001.003.001.001 001.501.001.001.003.001.001.004.002.001 001.001.001.001.002.001.003.001.002.001.501.001.001.00of !/2 inch tothe mile. Maps obtainable flat orWORLD'S MINERALS fo lded .2417 SanPablo Ave., Oakland 12, Calif.

M a r d K o c k S h o r t y

"EVERYTHING FOR THEHIKER"SLEEPING BAGS

AIR MATTRESSESSMALL TENTS

and many other itemsVAN DEGRIFT'S HIKE HUT

717 West Seventh StreetLOS ANGELES 14. CALIFORNIA

By L. C. DeSelrnHard Rock Shorty wasdozingon the bench under the lean-toporch infront of theInferno storewhen a bus loaded with Eastervacation tourists stopped for colddrinks.Obviously it was a group ofschool youngsters being con-ducted on a tour of Death Val-ley by a man and his wife who

presumably were teachers. Whilethe bus was being serviced thegroup sought the shade of thebuilding, and the conversationturned to packrats ."They are little desert ro-dents ," one of the teachers wasexplaining. "Th ey live near thecamps of prospectors where thereare crumbs of food to be found.Generally they do their foragingat night, andwhen they take an

object from the camp they al-ways put something in its place."Isn't that true, Mr. HardRock?" the teacher turned toShorty for confirmation."Y ep , an' they're smart littlerascals, too," was Shorty's an-swer. "Out here on the desert

we call 'emtrade rats, an' they'resmart traders, too. They gener-ally git the best o' the deal."Remember onewinter up onEight Ball crick when I wuzhelping Pisgah Bill do theassess-ment work on hisgold mine. Onenight one o' them little beggerslugged in a sample o' lead orean' left it in place of Bill's watch."Bill'd no way o' keepin' timeafter that, so me 'an him jestworked frum sunup to sundown.Wuz three months later whenthat pack rat got tired o' thewatch an' brought it back onenight and lugged off a poke o'gold nuggets Bill'd been savin'fer twoyears."An that watch wuz still amnnin ' . The little rascal hadkept it wound up. Only thewatchwuz an hour slow. But yu can'tblame the packrat fer that. Itdidn't know nothing about thisdaylight savin'."

fa* ItttutucdProbably no region on earth offers as favorable conditions fortaking pictures, or as w i d e a r a n g e of subjects , as the desert South-west. Twoessent ia ls for good black and white outdoor pictures aresunlight and s h a d o w s a n d thedeser t has a generous quo ta of bothof them. In order to secure thebes t of the photos of desert subjects ,Desert Magazine each month offers cash prizes in its Picture-of-the-Month contest. Subjects must be essent ia l ly of the desert, and ofcourse themore unus ua l the subject thebetter thec h a n c e for prizes.Entries forthe June contest must be in theDesert Magazine office.Palm Desert, California, by June 20, and the winning prints will ap-pear inthe August issue. Pictures which arrive toolate for onecontest

are held over for thenext month. First prize is $10; second prize $5.00.For non-winning

Documents

195306 Desert Magazine 1953 June