195804 desert magazine 1958 april

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DESERT WINDSBy CHA RLES BURGERBlythe, California

Shy errant vagabond,Where is your home,What joyous spiritTaught you to roam, Whence comes your footsteps,And whyThe fierce beat of yourWings in the sky,While breaking the willOf the strongest of strong.You sing with sheer raptureYour mad, happy song.Now lifting the sand dunesWith bold reckless hand.Driving it, flinging it.Far over the land.Fain would I share allYour frolic and rideFar from all worryClose by your side,And fain would 1 ride onYour chariot so lightKissing a sunset on a warm,Summer night.Or embracing a rainbowBrushing the dew,Then up through a cloud bankWith stars shining through.

F a s h i o n N o t e sBy ANDNA MCCONAGHYBellflower, California

The sand dune is wearing silk moireOf changeable weave of mauve and gray.Her billowy skirts, wind rippled, showWhite petticoats, scalloped row on row,Fluted and ribbed both front and backAnd feather stitched with a rabbit's track.Her scarf, off the shoulder, loosely knotsWith purple verbena polka dots.The sand dune is wearing silk moireOf changeable weave of mauve and gray.C LOU D SHA D OWS!

By GRA CE PARSONS HARMONDesert Hot Springs, CaliforniaCloud shadows roaming the desert ,Do you bring promise of rain?Cloud shadows crossing the mountains,Heralding springtime, again?Does your still passing arouse them,Sleeping seeds dozing below?Are you reminding them gently.Soon they must quicken and grow?Or are you sweeping th e ran gel andMo be ap of clouds blowing gayReadying Earth for the SpringtimeSpring, and its brilliant display?

DESERT MAGICB y W I L M A Ross W E ST PH A LAngwin, California

The desert stretches out to endless spaceAnd blends with purple horizons beyond;Its cacti columns rise with thorny graceLike giant candlesticks with spiny frond;And clinging to the sandy ground beneathGleam golden blossoms of the prickly pear;The reds and pinks that deck the cactussheathAre jewels in the desert's tangled hair.Sand dunes and rocks; the canopy of blue;The canyon's rugged cliffs against the sky;The peace, the silence and the sun's rays too,Bring to weary hearts a prayera sigh.This space the Master Artist set apartTo bring a sense of worship to the heart!

By TANYA SOUTHThen fill your days, your life entire,With work toward something you as-pire,Some noble goal. A fine idealTo make life earnest, deep and real,And endless, tireless of endeavor,Can all the lesser doldrums sever,And guide you steadily and farInto a sphere that none can mar.

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


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DESERT CflLEnDflflMarch 30-April 6 Yaqui IndianCeremonials, Pasqua Village, Ariz.April 4 Penitente Passion Play,Talpa Chapel, Taos, New Mexico.April 4-6Latter Day Saints' Gen-eral Conference, Tabernacle, SaltLake City.April 5-7Ute Indian Bear Dance,Ouray, Utah.April 6Easter Sunrise Services atmost Southwest Communities. Out-standing programs at Grand Can-yon and Wickenburg (horseback),Arizona; Death Valley, Red RockCanyon and Juniper Hills, Califor-nia; and Taos, New Mexico.April 6Desert Sun Ranchers Rodeo,Wickenburg, Arizona.April 6-9Spring Corn Dances atCochiti, San Felipe and Santo Do-mingo pueblos. New Mexico,April 10-12, 14-192nd ShakespeareFestival. Phoenix.April 11Fiesta and Evening Cele-bration, Mission San Xavier, Ariz.April 11-12 Central Arizona Re-

gional Science Fair, Tempe.April 11-12Science Fair, Socorro,New Mexico.April 11 -12Maricopa County 4-HFair, Phoenix.April 11-139th Annual Fiesta andRodeo, Truth or Consequences,New Mexico.April 11-13Arizona Horse LoversClub Spring Horse Show, Phoenix.April 11-15Ute Indian Bear Dance,Randlett, Utah.April 1221st Annual White SandsNational Monument Play Day, Al-amogordo, New Mexico.April 12-1326th Annual WildflowerFestival. Hi Vista (east of Lancas-t er ) , California.April 12-13Lions Club Rodeo, Bat-tle Mountain, Nevada.April 12-13 Fiesta de las Flores,Tucson.April 13-1623rd Annual Women'sInvitational Golf Championships,O'Donnell, Palm Springs, Calif.April 13-1919th Annual Ride ofthe DeAnza Trail Caballeros. LeaveCalexico, California, on 13th; ar-rive Riverside on 19th.April 14-18Desert Caballeros Ride,Wickenburg, Arizona.April 15Old Timers' Celebration,Dem ing. New Mexico.April 16-20 22nd Annual DesertCircus, Palm Springs, California.Parade on 19th.April 19-20 Fiesta de la Placita,Tucson. Children's Parade on 19th.

April 19-20. 26-27, May 3-431stPresentation of the Ramona Pag-eant, He met, California.April 23-27 5th Annual YumaCounty Fair, Yuma, Arizona.April 25Spring Festival Days, Price,Utah.April 26 Kiva Club's NizhoniDances, University of New Mexico,Albuquerque.April 26-27 14th Annual DesertWildflower Show, China Lake, Cal.April 26-May 1124th Annual Jun-ior Indian Art Show, Museum ofNorthern Arizona, Flagstaff.April 27Arizona State Spring Ro-deo, Flagstaff.Month of AprilMarjorie Keed Ex-hibition, Desert Magazine Art Gal-lery, Palm Desert, California,

Volume 21 APRIL 1958 Number 4COVERPOETRYCALENDAREXPERIENCETRAVELWILDFLOWERSINDIANSFIELD TRIPFICTIONBOTANYGHOST TOWNCLOSE-UPSHISTORYNATUREFORECASTCONTESTLETTERSTRUE OF FALSENEWSMININGHOBBYLAPIDARYCOMMENTBOOKSPHOTOGRAPHY

Sunrise in Southern ArizonaBy JOSEF MUENCHFashion Notes an d other poems 2April events on the desert 3Water Enough for Two, by HELEN DuSHANE . 4Dirt Road Holiday, by HELEN DuSHANE . . . 5Flowering predictions for April 10Navaio Shrine in Santa F

By DOROTHY L. PILLSBURY 12Opalite at the Silver Cloud

By NELL MURBARGER 15Har d Rock Shorty of Death Valley 18He Works All Day on Hotcakes 'n Chia

By EUGENE L CONROTTO 19SkidooGhost Camp in the Lonely Panamints

By EVALYN SLACK GIST 20About those who write for Desert 21Lee's Ferry, by JOSEF and JOYCE MUENCH . 22Ring-Tailed Night Hunters

By EDMUND C. JAEGER 24Southwest river runoff predictions 27Picture-of-the-Month contest announcement . . 27Comment from Desert 's readers 28A test of your desert knowledge 28From here and there on the desert 29Current news of desert mines 34Gems and Minerals 36Amateur Gem Cutter, by DR. H. C. DAKE . . . 41Just Between You and Me, by the Editor . . . 42Reviews of Southwestern literature 43Pictures of the Month ba ck cover

The Desert Magazine Is published monthly by the Desert Press, Inc.. Palm Desert.California. Re-entered BE second class matter July 17, 1948. at the postofflne at Palm Desert.California, under the Act of March 3, 1870, Title registered No.35S8B5 in U. S. Patent Office,and contents copyrighted 1958 by the Desert Press, Inc. Permission to reproduce contentsmust be secured from the editor in writing.RANDALL HENDERSON, EditorB ESS STACY, Bu siness Manager EUGENE L. CONROTTO, Associate EditorEVONNE RIDDELL, 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 montli preceding issue.

SUBSCRIPTION RATESOne Tea r S4.00 Two Tears S7.00Canadian Subscriptions *5c Extra. Foreign 50c ExtraSubscriptions to Army Personnel Outside U. S. A. Must Be Mailed in Conformity WithP. O. D. Order No. 19687Address Correspondence to Desert Magazine, Palm Desert. California

A P R I L , 1958


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LIFE ON THE DESERTW a t e r E n o u g h f o r T w o . . .By HELEN DuSHANE

IUT AREN'T YOU afraid, sofar away from people andthings?" asked our cityfriends as Joe and I recounted talesof weekends spent on the lonely anddesolate Colorado Desert in Califor-nia.It was "people and thing," but most-ly "things," which prompted us tospend as much time as possible onthe desert away from ourhighly civil-ized city jobs, weexplained. Welikethe clear cloudless skies, the panoramaof Salton Sea, and thedistant reachesof the desert spread before us for 50miles in all directions.But, the desert has given us morethan, fresh air andinspiring vistas.I shall never forget our desert ad-venture on a day inMarch, 1954. Werose early from our bedrolls andcooked breakfast over an open fire ofdead smoke tree branches. Bacon,eggs and coffee never had tasted better.A gentle breeze flowed down fromthe mountains as we started off on anexploration hike. We followed a long-forgotten Indian trail for two miles andthen broke away into theopen desert.Here thegoing was rough because theescarpment was cut by gullies andwashes. As weclimbed out of a deepnarrow arroyo, I saw people movingin single file along the base of theclay cliff in thedistance.

They were too small formenprob-ably boys, wedecided, as we walkedtoward them. Joecounted 22 figures.Suddenly we realized that the peoplewe were overtaking were notboys outfor a weekend of adventure and fun;they were Mexican wetback laborerswho had illegally crossed the U.S.border, and nowwere fleeing north-ward tofarms and ranches upon whichthey would be able to earn a fewAmerican dollars.But, were they dangerous? Mightthey harm us? We decided not totakechances and scrambled back into thewash. Here our steps were half runand half walk as wehurried away. Ahalf mile down the wash we stoppedfor breath. An orange apiece, eatenunder the shade of a mesquite tree,revived our courage, and we resumedour leisurely walk keeping to theopposite direction being taken by thewetbacks.

An hour later, rounding a point inthe clay cliff, we came face to facewith a second group of 18 wetbacks!That this might happen had neveroccurred tous. The Mexicans, appar-ently as surprised as we were, gapedat us, and we at them. We must havepresented a ridiculous picture, but themoment was too tense for us to seeany humor in the situation.The wetbacks were squatted in themeager shade of creosote bushes eat-ing sardines out of cans. One can forevery two men was the noon ration.A gallon water bottle sat betweennearly every two of them, but somehad nojug of water, undoubtedly hav-ing abandoned the bottles after theirprecious contents were consumed.

We were 80miles from theborderin a region described by J. SmeatonChase as the most desolate and for-bidding in the country. The nearestsource of good waterHarper's Welllay far to the south and evidentlythe wetbacks hadmissed it. Thetrailahead contained many more miles ofsun-scorched wastes wind blownand pocked with irritatingly soft yield-ing dunes and twisting tortuous washes.What thoughts raced through theminds of these 18 men as we stoodconfronting them? After 80 miles ofwalking madness in an attempt to makea little money for a better way of life,here suddenly appeared a gringo andhis wife who surely would expose themto theauthorities. Then to be pickedup by the immigration officers,crowded into buses and ignominiouslyherded back over the borderthere towait, perhaps months, for another op-portunity to slip into the promisedland.

Poor creatures! They seemed toshrink and become even smaller as westared at them in their ragged clothing,their sandals soled with pieces of cast-off automobile tires. Their painedbloodshot eyes showed fear.

Here is the second, prize win-ning story in Desert Magazine's1 9 5 8 , Life-on-the-Desert contestHelen DuShane's report of a nencounter with Mexican.Wet-backs on a remote desert back-road. These aliens had brokenthe laws in crossing the borderwithout proper permits butthey were faithful to an unwrit-ten code that sometimes en-able s human be ings to surviveon a water less deser t

"The poor things are scared todeath," Joe said tome. "Le t's just sayhello and go on."I took the cue, and with a smilesang out, "Buenas diets, senores!"From each little bush came lowgentle voices in reply: "Buenas dias,senora; buenas dias, senora," untileach man had offered his greeting.Then Joe grinned and the tensiondrained away."Agua?" Joe asked, pointing to histwo-quart canteen, and their leadereagerly stepped forward. "Si, si,senor," hesaid.The cap was unscrewed and theMexicans clustered around. Each mantook one swallow. Then the canteenwas handed back to the leader whoreturned it to Joe, saying, "Muchasgracias, senor."Joe shook the canteen and turnedto me in amazement. "What do youthink of that? They all had a gulp andyet they didn't take thelast drink," hesaid. "Th ey have left enough for twopeople."New respect came into Joe's eyes ashe called to the leader and held uptwo fingers, indicating that there wasenough water for two men to have asecond swallow.Minutes earlier we had been thor-oughly frightened by these supposed-ly lawless men . Yet, here was a grouppracticing a lawwhich is not writtenin a lawyer's heavy tomes; buthandeddown byword of mouth from genera-tion to generation in arid places:younever take a man's last drink of water.They had us in a spot18 againsttwoand they could have demandedour water and our lunch as well. Menhave been murdered for less. But, in-stead, they chose to be humane, ob-serving the fundamental law of deso-late waterless regions.Our neighbors from the southproved this when their leader refusedthe canteen offered to him a secondtime, and with a smile said, "Bastartteagua por dos,"enough water for two.



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Palm trees line the harbo r at L a Paz- On Ba ja's tip buildings are hand w oven.D i r t R o a d H o l i d a yFrom Tijuana to La Pazdown the elongated Baja Californiapeninsula to its very tip, beyond the arid interior deserts to a land oftropical vegetatio n. Here is the story of this 1200-mile dirt trail adven-turea rich experience despite the primitive facilities and meagersupplies along th e wa y. It's a trip in which you a lw ay s are clos e to

the sea, the land and the people.By HELEN DuSHANEMap by Norton Allen

SUMMER we rambled thelength and breadth of BajaCalifornia, exploring where wewished, living mostly off the land,stopping when the sun went down,and laying over a day or two if thearea appealed to us. We made thetrip because we wanted the vistas of

long lonely roads, endless coastlinefading into the horizon, and a cleancampsite at the end of the day's travel.One hundred and forty-five milessouth of the U.S. border at Tijuana,the paveme nt ends. Below this pointthere are no directional signs or signalsbecause there is little traffic; no bigcenters of population because there isnothing to attract people in large num-bers; few post offices because there islittle mail; no motels because thereare no tourists; no gasoline pumps be-cause there are few cars; and no airhoses for low tires because there isno compressed air. Some people mightshudder at traveling in such a land,but we like it that way.

For our own comfort we each tooka bedroll, pillow and air mattress withIn La Paz 1200 miles below the US. border. The author, her husband, Joe,and Manuel Quinon es, from left, stand in front of the ca r in w hich they toured Baja.


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a tire pump to fill the mattresses. Wealso took a nylon tent which was neveropened, but is good insurance to haveagainst the sudden rains at the tip ofthe peninsula.Our cooking outfit was as simple asour sleeping gear. A wire grate withfolding legs proved its worth over andover again. In sand , the legs couldbe pushed down as close to the coalsas one wished. In rocky soil the legswere folded flat and the grate restedon rocks banking the fire. Utensilsconsisted of a large skillet and a smallstew pan. A two-pound coffee canheld water for boiling. We used pow-dered coffee, eliminating the need fora coffee pot . A large galvanizedbucket-tub with a bail held all theclams and lobsters we could eat. Ourkitchen cutlery consisted of a servingspoon, butcher knife, paring knife andmeat cleaver, die latter used for crack-ing lobsters. A plate, two cups, knife,fork and spoon apiece comprised ourentire commissary.We each had a canvas ditty bag forpersonal articles. Our clothes werepacked in a cardboard suit box forthe rigors of such a trip would haveruined a leather traveling bag. Weplaced our cameras and binoculars ina plastic bag to protect them from dustwhich is 18 inches deep in some placesand actually obscures the road justsouth of El Rosa rio. I traveled withtwo pairs of jeans, two shirts, oneskirt and one cotton dress. Joe tooktwo pairs of jeans and three shirts.We both wore tennis shoes, andpacked two pairs of pajamas apiece.We traveled light. We had to, forour 1951 six cylinder Ford only had11 inches of clearance. To com pensatefor our heavy water, gasoline and foodloads, we had boosters placed on therear springs. We took five four-plynylon tubeless tires for sparesandthis was a serious error on our part forwithout compressed air it is impossibleto inflate a tubeless tirea hand pumpis useless for the air escapes fromaround the rim as fast as it is pumpedin. Luckily, we made the entire tripwithout tire troubleand this is noth-ing short of miraculous considering therough roads we traveled over.Equally amazing is the fact thatnot once did we get stuck in the sand.By using low gear and going muydespacio we avoided bogging down onthe beach roads.The people delighted us with theirsoft voices, courteous ways and innatefairness. They always offered to paywhen we left food or medicineandmoney does not grow on bushes inBaja. The current wage for day laboris 60 to 75 cents a day.These folks are the essence of sim-plicity and integrity. The further


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south we traveled, the more honestwe found them. The more remote therancho and the more primitive thepobrecitos, the more articulate theyseemed to be in choosing words intheir own language which preciselyexpressed their feelings.Our trip really began where thepavement ended. From this point toSan Quintin the road is graded butrough. Many Americanos come tothis seaside town to camp, fish, swim,go clamming or seek lobsters in therocky crevices. There is a small motelin San Quintin, but accommodationsare limited.Leaving this town we changed ouraggressive Norteamericano drivingtechniques. Poco a poco became theorder of the day as we slowly prog-ressed southward, our goal 1000 milesdistant. The little ranch!tos were fur-ther apart, and now we were truly onour own. On the third day we metonly two vehicles, both trucks, and asis the custom of the road, we stoppedeach time to chat with the drivers. Inthis lonely land one invariably inquiresinto the nature of the road ahead, andthe bajanero always answers that "e lcamino es bueno"the road is good.We learned to take this informationwith a grain of salt. The M exicanwants to be pleasant and agreeable, sothe condition of the road is alwaysgood. It would be discourteous toplant unpleasant thoughts in the mindof a stranger.We developed a more reliable wayof determining the condition of thecamino. Asking how long it wouldtake to drive to a certain point, wedoubled the bajanero's estimate.At Rancho Arenoso we loaned ourtire pump to a Mexican truck driver.These people certainly depend onprovidence. Had we not come along,he would have sat there waiting.Their patience is incredible.A few miles beyond this ranch isthe junction of the road to MissionSan Fernando de Velicata, the onlymission in Baja founded by the Fran-

ciscan order. The pious and ambitiousJunipero Serra, who established themissions of Alta California, foundedthis onehis firstin 1769. Today,only two crumbling adobe walls re-main.El Marmol"The Marble"is alittle town of 50 families about 275miles below the U.S. bord er. Here islocated the largest onyx mine in theworld. I had met the Norteamericanomanager Kenneth Brown years beforeand we renewed our acquaintance. Heand his wife insisted that we spend thenight with them . Abou t that time abed looked very good to us for wewere weary and travel sore.


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Next day Kenneth suggested that wetake one of his Mexican employees tohelp with the driving and act as guideand interpreter. We liked the idea, soManuel Quinones joined us . A manof 34, half Mayo Indian and halfMexican, he had lived all his life onthe peninsula as had several genera-tions of his forbears.While Manuel 's wife packed hisbedroll and ironed a pair of pantsfor the trip, the Browns told us aboutthe onyx industry. This material m ustbe drilled out, for blasting would frac-ture it. On yx will not abso rb liquidas does marble, and this quality plusdurability and attractiveness has ledto its popular use as soda fountain andbank counters, fountain pen desk sets

and many other items. Onyx comes inshades of green, rust, yellow, red andwhite. The most monumental orderKenneth has received during his manyyears at the mine involved preparingslabs of perfectly white onyx for thehuge 30-foot figure of the Indian godof peace which stands in the St. Paul,Minnesota, city hall .El Marmol has no modern utili t ies,and water is at a premium. Mrs .Brown's vegetable garden survives onwater hauled from a well 10 milesaway, as is their drinking water. Froma local well each Mexican worker re-ceives 10 gallons-a day of highly min-eralized water. Because of this water'shigh soda content, no trees grow inEl Marmol, and the town is bleak

B A J A C A L I F O R N I A WAM H I N T SA Baja California vacation is anadventure, and should be planned assuch. Proper equipmen t and wisechoice of supplies are important and so is the driver's attitude. Con -dition of the roads prevent this frombeing other than a leisurely trip.Don't set a rigid timetable and thenattempt to keep to itbe preparedto camp wherever night finds you.Here are some travel hints for yourBaja motor trip:Insurance on automobiles costsapproximately $1 a day, and may bebought in Los Angeles, San Diego,El Centro and other large bordertowns.Tourist Permits cost $3 per personand are good for six months. Ob-tainable at the border towns or inLos Angeles, San Diego and ElCentro.Smallpox vaccination evidence isrequired by U.S. of every returningcitizen from any point 100 milessouth of the border. Local PublicHealth officer can give necessary vac-cination and written statement freeof charge before you start.Road conditions are primitive. Highcenters of many stretches are greatestmenace to modern cars. Any carprevious to 1957 models and in goodcondition can make trip. Some gradesare 22 percent. No trailer should at-tempt road south of San Quintin.Gasoline should be strained unlessdelivered from a pump. An old felthat is excellent for this purpose. Gasprices average 30c a gallon. In south-ern districts gas quality is inferior.Carry extra fuel for emergencies.White gas for stoves and lamps notavailable.Tires and tools. There is no com-pressed air, making tube less tiresworthless. Carry extra tires, severaltubes, puncture kit, tire pump andextra rear axle, spark plugs, fuelpump, fan belt and all necessary in-stalling tools.Overnight accommodations arescarce. Below Ensenada only threetowns have hotels: Santa Rosalia, LaPaz and San Jose del Cab o, In Lo-reto, Senora Blanca Garayzar offers

transients clean accommodations andexcellent food in her home. Thereare a few other places to stay, butthe average traveler will not findthem suitable.Campsites are numerous, clean andbeautify along the entire length ofthe peninsula. There are no estab-lished campsites or facilities.Malaria rumors periodically makethe rounds in Baja. Thr ee tablets of50 mg. of vitamin Bl taken beforegoing to bed ward off mosquitoswhich do not like the Bl odor. Liquidrepellents wear off and must be re-applied in the middle of the night.Water is made safe for drinking 30minutes after one Halazone tablet isadded to each pint. Carry at least10 gallons of water. There are longstretches where no water of any kindcan be obtained.Food. Most stores carry Mexicancanned foods. Quality is inferior toAmerican, but food is safe and nutri-tious. Fish, lobsters and clams areplentiful. Local fisherme n are alwayswilling to sell what they have caughtfor a few cents.Clothing. Baja's summers arewarmer than Southern California's.Humidity along the gulf makes lightcotton clothing a must. Nylon gar-ments are not porous and thereforeare not suitable. Bathing suits arerecommended, for frequent swimsmust be taken in lieu of baths. Mex-icans look with disapproval on thewearing of trousers by women, andskirts or dresses should be worn intown.Money should be converted intoMexican pesos at the border town ofentry. Take enough money for theentire trip for it is virtually impossibleto cash a check. Prices usually arequoted in pesos.Language difficulties are not insur-mountable. Very little English isspoken and a paper-bound English-Spanish dictionary is a wise invest-ment.The people. The further south onetravels the more charming and help-ful are the natives. They will go outof their way to assist in any waypossible, but don't expect haste.

and hot. However, inch for inch, thelocal school house probably is the mostvaluab le in the wor ld. Erec ted by theminers for the education of their littleones , it is entirely built of onyx slabs.We left El Marmol late in the after-noo n. Fifteen miles down the road isa primitive rock shrine, one of themany we saw on the trip. This shrineand a few others had a locked recep-tacle for the change which is offeredwith a prayer for a safe journey. Timeand the elements undoubtedly havedestroyed many of these shrines, butnothing short of a catastrophic eventcould level the one near El Marmol,for it was hollowed out of solid rock.In the recess is a statue with candleson the little altar. A fragile-ap pearingwrought iron cross on top of the boul-der makes a sharp contrast to thesolidity of the gran ite. It is the beliefof the natives that burning a candleat these shrines is necessary for a safeand happy journey.At sundown we saw several coyotesforaging for food. On e cam e so closeto the car I could have touched himwith my han d. Com pletely unafraid,he stood and watched us come and go,and then trotted off looking for hissupper.We spent several stifling days cross-ing the Vizcaino Desert, rich in cardon,bisnaga, pitahaya, cirio, copal andelephant trees (Desert Magazine, Oct.' 5 5 , Nov. '56 , Dec . '5 6 ) . Manuelknew the names of all the plants andtheir uses.

In Baja plants are either good orbad. Manuel pointed out one plantwhich he said would bring tears andpossibly even temporary blindness tothe eyes of the person who stands nearit . The bajaneros call it mal de ojo"bad for the eyes."Because we traveled so slowly never more than 100 miles a day-the opportunity to observe the people,wildlife and botany was one we seldomhad in our own country of high speedand freeways. The art of seeing Na -ture's minute details is rapidly disap-pearing. People travel today mainlyto "get some place," but if and whenthey get there, they have seen nothingon the way.We particularly enjoyed the friendlylitt le burros which roamed about, withnot a ranchito in sight. They weremost frequently the familiar brownand white ones, but on three occasionswe saw pinto burr os. Th e black andwhite of their coloring made themstand out in a country of pastel shad-ings. The bu rro came to the peninsulaas an emissary of labor, brought bythe lesuits to carry their burdens overthe rugged new land.

Today, the burro still is the linkbetween pueblito and countryside.D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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One of many roadside shrines along the Baja Cali- Mission Santa Rosalia Mulege, built by the Jesuitsfornia trail. in 1705.

Entering San lgnacio, a town of 1500 people. Bajaneros with their catch two small turtles.


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Trucks roar over 100 miles of engi-neered roads into La Paz, a city of15,000 near the tip of Baja; but theburro comes andgoes over thepenin-sula where thetruck cannot pass. Henegotiates mountain trails, inching hisway around turns and being carefujnot tobrush theload against thecan-yon walls. He eats almost anything,and usually is docile.We sawseveral men riding burros,but never a woman. Apparently Bajawomen walkif they go anyplace atall. They spend most of their timenear the casa caring for a cluster ofbrown-eyed ninos and a scattering ofscrawny chickens and constantly-for-aging pigs. Theearly padres forbadethe keeping of pigs in themissionvil-lages because on several occasionspigs had killed young babies whilethe mother was away. Soeven todaywe sawpigs on the pueblho outskirtsand at the ranchhos, but very few inthe towns.After supper one evening we walkedfor several miles along the beach,

hunting for shells, skipping stones onthe water, and watching the sun godown in a great blob of red whichcovered the landscape in a warm mel-low afterglow. Because of its south-ern latitude, this is a land of longtwilights.On returning tocamp we saw foot-

prints of people, burros and mulasthat hadcome out of curiosity to seethe Nortes' possessions. Not onething was touched although our coffee,sugar, skillet and bed rolls were outin plain sight.We built up the fire and sat aroundit. In the gathering dusk Manuelpointed out a lone woman, burdenedwith a huge bundle of wood, trudgingalong theedge of a low hill. I lookedat our campfire and wondered howmany meals shecould cook with whatwe were burning just for fun. I askedManuel if she would find what wewould leave behind. He chuckled atmy concern. We would not be half amile away before shewould arrive to

pick up what wood remained, he as-sured me.Again wesaw coyotes in thebrush,as well as many rabbits and crows.The latter seemed to be eating thefruit from the cardon. This largestof all cacti is similar to the saguaroof Sonora and Arizona, butwhere thesaguaro has a fewbranches extendingout from thecentral trunk, thecardonhas manyup to 30 insome instances.The saguaro gives the impression ofwaving its arms in all directions whilethe cardon always is reaching for thesky. Cardon flowers usually ap pearin March or April, although just southof Rosario we saw many still inbloomin late June. The flowers are creamywhite with curling petalsa truly ex-otic sight. Thefruit is covered withyellowish spines which defy removal.With the aid of a kuibit, a long poleto which is tied a smaller woodencrosspiece, we knocked off several ofthe fruits.Kuibits are found here and thereleaning against the hardiest cardons,

Indications are that thecurrent wildflowerseason will be remembered as one of thoserare great blooming periods in the South-west. April will seeflowers at their peak ofbloom in most high desert areas, and botan-ists, photographers and flower lovers willfind some species to admire along almostevery back country road.Joshua Tree National Monument's Aprilflower prospects are outstanding. NaturalistBruce W. Black recommends that visitorsduring late March and early April followthe roads through the Monument fromJoshua Tree community and from Twenty -nine Palms toCot ton wood Spring to see themost colorful flower displays. These plantsare expected to be in prominent bloom:mallow, poppy, coreopsis, bladder-pod, des-ert plume, lupine, chuparosa, verbena, des-ert dandelion, pincushion, blazing star, duneprimrose, large white desert primrose.Mo-jave aster, gilia, phacelia, ocotillo, brittle-bush and creosote. Joshua trees should bein full flower.Lucile Weight of Twej^ynjne Palmsmakes the following April wigjflower fore-casts for these desert ;areas! rHighway 95from Yum a toQuartz^site, Arizona, hasbeena riot of bloom since' the end of February,with many young plants expected to beblossoming through April, especially mal-low;; Highway 60-70 from Indio to Blythe,particularly east of Desert Center, has hadunprecedented display, and the roadsidesstill .contain many young plants which shouldshow color in April (blooming in Marchwere: lupine, chuparosa, encelia, eveningprimrose, desert dandelion, poppy, mallow,verbena, datura, geraea and desert lily);and the high desert areas along T wenty ninePalms Highway andBaseline Highway fromU.S. 99 to the Desert Center-Rice Junction,

and Amboy Road to U.S. 66 at Amboy alsowill have much bloom in April. Thosewhohike through the foothills of such moun-

tains as the Cady, Providence, Bristol, OldDad, Ship, Whipple and Chuckawalla willbe richly rewarded with wildflower displays,she added.From the Antelope Valley in the Lancas-ter-Palmdale area, Mrs. Jane S. Pinheirowrites that the past winter has been one ofthe most mild in the memory of manylong-time residents. Consequently, allgrowth is a month to six-weeks ahead ofschedule. In the valley's western foothills,poppy, gilia and coreopsis began bloomingin mid-February. Foliage on Great BasinSage is the most luxuriant in the memoryof most observers. Despite the early bloom-ing of many plants which normally appearin April, Mrs.Pinheiro is optimistic aboutthat month's flower prospects. Shepredictspoppy and gilia blossoming will continue,with mariposa and many Other plants Whichhave not bloomed in several years also ap-pearing.The peak of wildflower bloom will have

passed in low desert areas by April, butvisitors to the Coachella and Imperial val-leys may find worthwhile displays on thehigher ground along the valley sides. Sweet-bush, encelia, primrose, hairy-leaved sun-flower, chuparosa and verbena are amongthe blossoms to be seen. Smoke trees andagaves (especially along the Palms to PinesHighway) are expected to bloom in lateMay and June.Recent rains have aided the April floweroutlook in the Anza-Borrego Desert StatePark, Supervisor Clyde E. Strickler says.Ocotillo was in full leaf in March and isexpected to be in bloom during April.Death Valley National Monument Nat-uralist Meredith Ingham writes that flowerconditions areexcellent this year, with theseblossoms expected to show above the 3000-foot elevation during April: evening prim-rose, globe mallow, phacelia, desert frve-spot, Mojave aster, desert-star and ghost-

flower. Cacti flowers also should be at theirpeak during the month.James W. Schaack, park naturalist atLake Mead National Recreation Area, ex-pects the early blooming cacti, such ashedgehog and beavertail. to show blossomsin April. In addition, these flowers also areanticipated: ocotillo, lupine, globe mallow,larkspur and marigold. The April LakeMead display, he writes, will be one of themost colorful and complete in memory.Schaack recommends visits to Willow Beach,Tempie Bar, Katherine Wash and Cotton-wood Cov&, all on Lake Mohave or thelower stretches of Lake Mead. For thosewho miss the early showings at these places,a drive to Overton on the north end of theRecreation Area may be productive, for thedisplay along this road usually reaches itspeak three to six weeks later.

Supervisory Park Ranger Robert J. Hey-ing predicts at least 58 species will showbloom in April at Saguaro National Monu-ment near Tucson. Included in his list aresuch rare plants as dock, all-thorn, fairy-dusler, goats-beard, thread plant, clematis,tack-stem, caltrop and windmills.Fo r the Globe, Arizona, area, NaturalistEarl Jackson of the Southwest ArcheologicalCenter predicts a good April flower show.The hills between Globe and Tonto NationalMonument and between Globe andCoolidgeDam should contain bluedick, wallflower,poppy, marigold, mallow, lupine and owl-clover blossoms. The foothills just southof Globe are expected to produce densedisplays of mariposa.At Southern Arizona's Organ Pipe CactusNational Monument the outlook for anoutstanding wildflower show during Aprilis excellent, Chief Park Ranger John T.

Mullady writes. The Monument's twoscenic drives are in good condition andshould afford many flower vistas.DESERT MAGAZINE

C olorful W ildf low er Show in P rospect


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and are made from any long slenderpiece of wood, usually from the dryribs of cardon skeletons.Small well-defined trails lead fromtree to tree. Eviden tly the nativesmake regular rounds to pick the fruit.Split open with a knife, the magentacolored pulp is revealed . This is eatenalong with the seeds in the fruit's cen-ter. Car don fruit is sweet and delici-ous. The flavor cannot be comparedto any of the common fruits used inthe U.S.Manuel explained that there arethree kinds of cardon fruitwhite, redand yellow. Un til the fruit splits thereis no way to determine the pulp's color.We ate both the white and the red andcould discern no difference in Savor.The further south we traveled, themore lush and tropical the growth inthe canyons appeared . So thick werethe palms, papayas, mangos, figs, cit-

rus and avocados that upon descend-ing into inhabited canyons we could seeonly the treesno trace of a village.As we approached, the little housesgradually came into view. In additionto the inevitable adobe were houses ofpalm frond thatching . Sides and roofare all of palm fiber which blends inwith the landscape so completely thehouses can scarcely be seen.After two weeks of crossing and re-crossing the peninsula we arrived inLa Paz, a fisherman's paradise. Du r-ing the winter months sea trout, totu-ava, giant grouper, cabrilla, white sea

bass, pompano, yellowtail, bonefish,barracuda and red snapper are caughthere. In April come the marlin, yel-lowfin, tuna, sailfish, dolphin androosterfish, staying until the end ofOc tob er. The Gulf in this vicinity isrimmed with many bays and inlets.There are three hotels in La Paz,and we stay ed at L a P erl a, chieflypatronized by well-dressed and soft-spoken Mexican businessmen. LaPerla serves a delicious dinner for oneAmerican dollar, and a room for twowith twin beds and bath costs fivedollars. We rested there a day, and

because no boats were to leave im-mediately for the Mexican mainland,we toured the very tip end of the pen-insula.We made the three-hundred miletrip in three and a half days. Th eroad follows the shoreline, and wecamped at the water's edge every night.Backdrop for the wild beautiful scenerywas the lofty Sierra de la Victoriawhose high country abounds with deer.Growth on the Tip was lush, withfew cacti varieties, but many trailingvinesa riot of color with their yel-

low, purple, crimson and magentablossoms. The most conspicuous

Clamm ing in Baja does not require hunting. Joe and Manu el pick themoff inlet floor and drop them in floating tub.flower was a yellow morning-glory.Some of our old Southern Californiafriends grew in the sandy washesrabbit brush and matilija poppy wereespecially common.A dreaded chubascoa fierce stormaccompanied by high winds which lashand tear apart the natives' flimsy homeswas threatening when we returnedto La Paz. At the peninsula's tip chu-bascos have forced the ocean waterover the top of 200-foot-hig h offshorerocks. Mazatlan, on the mainland^had wired that 100-mile-an-hour windswere advancing. The port of La Pazwas closed. No ships could leave.Next day a tropical storm sent a de-luge of water, but the chubasco fadedinto the limbo of forgotten things.

The following morning I asked ifthe boat would sail."Si, si senora, today in the after-noon."When should we have the car onthe dock for loading?"Ahorita, senora!now!"So , being Norteamericanos wherethe word "now" means "immediately,"

we drove to the dock and waited. Twohours later we were told the boat

would sail at 10 the following morn-ing. Actually, we pulled anchor atnoon. The voyage to Mazatlan is ashort one, only taking 24 hours. Thatafternoon w e saw many fishmarlin,swordfish, shark and even the giantmanta ray so dreaded by pearl divers.The La Paz-Mazatlan boat is noton a regular schedule, but passageusually is made once a week. FernandoChacon, the shipping broker, speaksEnglish and his office is within halfa block of the dock.One cannot conquer Baja Californiain one or even several trips. The reare too many inlets, bays, estuaries,side roads, canyons and inaccessibleplaces. Each month brings changes inweather, wildlife habits, maturation offlowers and plants, sea life, and in thecamino itself. With one good storm,el camino becomes a churning sea ofmud, impassable to even the nativebajanero.

Leaving La Paz we sailed alongsidea palatial white yacht, but we had noenvy in our hearts. We would rath erlive a life hampered by lack of cen-tavos than to be muy rico. It is theonly way that one can get to know thepeople, and the earth itself.

A P R I L , 1 9 5 8 11


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Hasteen KiahBy DOROTHY L. PILLSBURYF HASTEEN KLAH, one of thegreatest of Navajo CeremonialMen, had not harbored for manyyears a persistent foreboding that theoutward evidences of his people's re-ligious culture might vanish from theearth, there might not be a hogan-shaped building on a red hillside twomiles from the old Plaza in Santa Fe.Lost to all the world might have beena wealth of myths, chants, symbolismand, above all, sand paintings whichtraditionally are destroyed at sunsetfollowing the day's ceremony.

If Mary Cabot Wheelwright of Bos-ton had not migrated to the little Span-ish village of Alcalde along the RioGrande where she still lives, theremight not have been a treasure houseof Indian lore in the shadow of thefabled Sangre de Cristo Mountains.If Frances Newcomb had not beenthe wife of a trader to the Navajoswho lived among the tribesmen in aremote part of their reservation; if shehad not won the friendship and con-fidence of her Indian neighbors, muchof the interpretation of the intricatesymbolism of their religious art mighthave perished from the earth . Greatwould have been the loss.12

N A V A J OS H R I N Ei nS A N T A F E

A Navajo medicine man, a whitetrader's wife and a philanthropicNew England w o m a n met in asnow storm and soon discoveredthey shared the same dream: topreserve the symbols of an ancientbut rapidly disappearing culture.In 1937 their vision was realizedsand paintings, recorded chants,fetishes, baskets, masks and otherevidence of Navajo religion andart were placed in an unusual mu-seum near Santa Fe for perpetualpreservation. The passing yearshave seen the transformation ofthis cultural storehouse into anIndian shrine.

That all three of these people didmeet, and with the help of many othersproduced the Museum of Navajo Cere-monial Art, is a triumph of destiny. By1 9 3 7 , Santa Fe had a privately ownedand operated museum on a ruddy hill-side with its strangely oriental land-scape of dwarf cedar and pinyon treesdotting the sunburned earth. To itcame scholars and tourists from allover the world to revel in its collectionsand to study in its library. But, des-tiny showed its hand again and themuseum was transformed into an In-dian shrine.Reason for this is easy to under-stand. The Navajos, always a dynamicpeople, have in recent years witnessedan acceleration in their cultural change.Children are learning the white man'sways in school, more and more youngadults are moving to large cities, newwealth with the promise of social im-provement has come to the tribesmenfrom uranium and oil leases and roy-alties.Many of the younger Navajoses-pecially those who have moved fromthe reservation have not seen a majorceremony for many years. In ever in-

creasing numbers they come to themuseum to see the preservation of the

Mary Cabot Wheelwrightreligious culture of their people. Trucksrattle up loaded with Navajos whowork on the railroads or who havefound jobs in nearby cities. Some ofthem stop by the reservation to pickup their "old folks"women in fullskirts, velveteen basques hung likeChristmas trees with priceless old sil-ver and turquoise jewelrymen in bigblack hats, blanket-wrapped against thecold.Typical of the Indian visitors was ayoung man working in Los Angelesheavy industry. He and his bride wereon their honeymoon trip. When askedby Director Kenneth Foster if he foundrelocation in a great city hard to take,the young man said it was pretty badat first. Then he grinned and said,"It's all right now."

Members of other Indian tribes alsovisit the museum. Elders of RioGrande Pueblos silently stalk throughthe rooms, pointing out the great col-lections of pottery, silver, medicinebundles, prayer sticks and all the in-tricate paraphernalia of Indian religi-ous rites. Before some leave, they goup to Director Foster and produce aparticularly cherished object of theirown ceremonies. "Will you take goodcare of this and keep it for us?" theyask.



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Museu m of N avajo Ceremonial Art. Hoga n-like building, designed by WilliamHenderson, won first prize at the First International Exhibition of ArchitecturalLeague in New York.

Hasteen Klah, Mary Cabot Wheel-wright and Frances Newcomb met ina dramatic way as a wind-lashed snowstorm roared over the painted earthof Navajoland one November day inthe 1930s. Mary Wheelwright hadbumped over terrible roads to the vil-lage of Chinle at the entrance to fa-mous Canyon de Chelly in Arizona.In the mountains behind Chinle shehad seen her first Yehbechai given thelast night of a nine day healing cere-mony.That Yehbechai must have beensimilar to one I saw in November, 10years later. Around a great central firein a deep valley surrounded by highwooded mountains, dozens of whitecovered wagons were drawn up in a

fire-reddened semicircle. Hundreds ofNavajo men wandered from wagon towagon where the women and childrendisplayed their wealth of silver jewelryaround smaller fires and dispensed hotcoffee, mutton stew and fried bread.All night an artist friend and I, theonly non-Indians present, sat againstthe Yehbechai House from which camethe weird chanting with its oriental in-tonations. We thrilled to the falsettosinging of masked dancers who ap-peared from time to time before thegreat central fire to dance with stiff,almost mechanical-toy gestures. "Th isis not the United States of America,"we whispered. "This is Tibet or someunknown valley in Mongolia." Atdawn, physically and emotionally ex-

hausted, we returned to our car andsped home.But Mary Wheelwright did not rushhome after she witnessed the Yeh-bechai. She started out over the moun-tains to Frances Newcomb's tradingpost, arriving there during a snowstorm. Among the many people in thesmall building seeking shelter from thestorm was Hasteen Klah.For 30 years it had been Klah'sprayer that the evidences of his peo-ple's religious culture should not perishfrom the earth. He could not write,sketch or paint. But he had learnedto weave and on the walls of the mu-seum today hang exquisite tapestriesfrom Klah's loom, some of them eightsquare feet in size, perfect in coloring

Room in the museum showing tapestries woven by Hasteen Klah and furniturecarved by Indian and Sp anish-Ame rican craftsmen.


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Last year Hozhoni Hatrali Begay rededicated the museum . In backgroundis symbolic reproduction of Shooting C hant Sand Painting.and detail, reproducing sand paintingsused in Navajo ceremonials.Frances Newcomb could do whatKlah could notsketch and paint theintricate designs of sand paintings. Foryears the Navajos had welcomed herto their ceremonials, but they wouldnot permit her to take a single notenor make a single sketch. Like Klah,she memorized the intricacies of designand color in sand paintings and theother ceremonial symbols. These shelaboriously recorded at home. Today,Mrs. Newcomb is considered an au-thority on Indian symbolism and is aResearch Member of the museum.From her present home in Albuquer-que she fills many requests for lecturesin her specialty.Following this first meeting in which14

the mutually-felt desire to see thesereligious symbols preserved was warm-ly expressed, Klah and Mr. and Mrs.Newcomb came to Alcalde to visitMary Wheelwright. More meetingsfollowed and the plans for a permanenthome for these treasures took form.In 1937 this privately owned and oper-ated museum was built on its cloud-flecke d hillside. Its 10 acre site wasdonated by Miss A. E. White of SantaFe, and it is supported by Miss Wheel-wright, public memberships, entrancefees and sales of its publications andother materials.The Museum of Navajo CeremonialArt is a beautiful eight-sided hogan-shaped building with a cribbed roofand a simulated smoke hole formedby a window. Its heavy doors, wood-

work, furnishings and display shelveswere hand-carved by Indian and Span-ish Am erican craftsmen. On its sajid-colored walls hang reproductions ofNavajo sand paintings and Klah'sgreat woven tapestries. The museumis open week days (except Mondays)from 9 a.m. to noon and from 1 to4:30 p.m . Admission fee is 25 cents.On Sundays, visitors are received from3 to 5 p.m. without charge.

Klah dedicated the completed build-ing in November, 1937, with a Bless-ing Way Ceremony. He died that sameyear and at his request was buried alittle beyond the great carved door ofthe front entrance.Today the museum contains 400sand paintings reproduced in variousways. It has recordings of 1000 Nava-jo chants with comparative materialfrom Tibet, Mongolia and other Asiansources. It holds a wealth of cere-monial objectsenough to reproducealmost any ceremony. Outstanding isthe museum's library on Navajo art andreligious culture.In November, 1956, the buildingand its contents were rededicated.Hozhoni Hatrali Begay, the descendantof 10 generations of Ceremonial Men,was brought from his Red Rock hoganto repeat the Blessing Way Ceremony.To this ritual came four generationsof the late Hasteen Klah's family, in-cluding "Mrs. Sam" who had carded,spun and dyed the wool for the tapes-tries Klah wove in his effort to perpet-uate the ephemeral sand paintings.Among this delegation of Klah's de-scendants were two young Navajos whono longer herded sheep, but were nowemployed by uranium companies.Paul Jones, a nephew of HasteenKlah and Chairman of the NavajoTribal Council, sent the dedicationspeech, a most poignant communica-tion in which he gave thanks to MaryWheelwright for her vision and gen-erosity in establishing the museum. Heremarked that she and members ofher staff had not regarded the sacredIndian objects as mere curiosities, butpreserved them in a form which ispleasing to the Navajos and in whichthey can take pride. Miss Wheelwrighthas kept alive something of the religionof a people who never had a writtenlanguage, he wrote.So in the dramatic meeting morethan a quarter of a century ago of alady from Boston, the wife of a traderto the Navajos, and a dedicated Cere-monial Man, destiny played its part,Klah evidently saw the hand writingon the wall long before that time. Now,modem young Navajos are beginningto see it, and the hogan-like buildingon a red New Mexican hillside whichstarted as a museum, has become anIndian shrine.



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Author examining opalite ledges where miners "gophered" beneath the over-burden to rich cinnabar ore. Old stulls still are in place.

By NELL MURBARGERMap by Norton AllenPhotographs by the authorN THE HIGH WIDE valley ofthe meandering Humboldt Riverlies the small desert station ofBattle Mountain, Nevada, cottonwoodshaded and hemmed by immensity.The dry bordering hills, cloaked in thefeathery gray of sage and capped by

the bold green of junipers, roll backto lofty summits where snow falls earlyA P R I L , 1 9 5 8

and lies long, and canyons are lacedwith cascading streams and waterfalls.Linking the little town with these hin-terlands is a spiderweb of sun-splashedbackroads and dim trails.This is the Land of Yesterday, Overthe years its sagebrush has fed thecampfires of many men. Roving In-dian bands, questing explorers and bea-

ver trappers, covered-wagon emigrants,saddle-weary cavalrymen, and a rest-less horde of prospectors have trampedthese hills, leaving behind tokens oftheir transient presence. Here lie In-dian battlegrounds, pioneer trails anda whole galaxy of ghost mining camp's:Copper Basin, Copper Canyon, Ga-lena, Bannock, Lewis, Betty O'Neal,Dean, Hilltop and many others. Rock-hounds find these sites happy huntinggrounds!

At Copper Basin, turquoise, chrys-ocolla, malachite, azurite, cobalt, nick-el and dozens of other minerals arebeing collected, A half-dozen m ilesdown the range in a pretty spring-watered canyon are the rock ruins andmine dumps of Galena, built nearly a

15

Here's a field trip for the coming warm summer monthsto thehigh desert of northern Nev ada for red cinnabar-streaked opalite. Tonsupon tons of this material can be found in the quicksilver glory holeof the remo te Silver Cloud Mine. Cut and polished, these stones arevery colorful and attractive.

Opaline at the Silver Cloud. . .


16/44

century ago. Hidden in thehigh sage-brush are old steel safes and millingmachinery, andfrom themine dumpsand bordering canyonsides rockhoundsharvest cerussite, sphalerite, pyrites,brachiopods andtrilobites.Elsewhere in the Battle Mountainvicinity, collectors have found cuprite,chalcocite, arsenic, bismuth, bornite,stibnite, copper, fluorspar, scheelite,titanium placer, manganese, rhodo-chrosite, uranium, garnets, barite, an-timony, coal, jade andcalcite crystals.Along theeast edge of Buffalo Valleyare several small dead volcanic craters,and in their red cinders and black lavaI have collected tiny "Nevada dia-monds" (obsidian) hard enough toscratch windshield glass. Farther southat Dacie Creek is petrified wood.Every summer for the past dozenyears, I'vemade at least one collectingor exploring trip in the Battle Moun-tain area. Soon after arriving lastJune, I raninto my friend Bill Swack-

hamer, a local merchant whoknowsthis area like the inside of his coatpocket. It was hewho told me of theold Silver Cloud Mine."It's about 35miles from here overa good dirt road that leads throughsome fine cattle country. At the SilverCloud there's probably 100,000 tonsof white opalite heavily streaked withrose-red cinnabar," Bill said."Be sure to take water and plentyof blankets," he added. "Theeleva-tion's high up there, and the nightsare chillyeven in June."Early next morning I left BattleMountain on a graveled road that in-tersects U.S. 40 directly across fromthe Swackhamer store. Soon afterbumping over the Southern Pacificrailroad tracks, the road crosses theHumboldt and embarks upon anearthen dike that carries it througha wide slough bordering the river.Spread over hundreds of acres is asheet of dead water so shallow that

PERMISSION TOCOLLECT SPECIMENSSoon after Nell Murbargermade this trip to theSilver CloudMine, the Big Butte M ining Com-pany resumed mining operationsthere but rockhounds arewelcome. Here is a letter fromGeneral Manager E. T. Carlououtlining the mining concern'spolicy:

Battle Mou ntain, NevadaFebruary 24, 1958Dear Miss M urbarger:

Yes, you may run this storyabout our beautiful rock. Aslong as rockhounds don't hauloff highgrade some runs 200pounds to thetonthey willbewelcome.Beautiful jewelry has beenmade from some of our rock,an d we will be glad to selectsamples and save them forrockcutters. Yours very truly,

E. T. CARLOVGeneral ManagerBIG BUTTE MINING CO.

much of its surface is whiskered withtall thin cattails and reeds. In thisunstable world live a multitude of red-winged blackbirds and lesser numbersof their gaudily-plumed relatives, theyellow-headed blackbirds. Swingingfrom reeds along both sides of theroad were their neat pouch-shapedgrass nests, and only the screamingavocets and killdeers could make them-selves heard in theuproarious bedlamcreated by theringing "ok-a-lee" criesof the male redwings and the rusty-hinge croaking of theyellow-heads.

Long-legged herons and egrets, eachingeniously balanced on one foot,scanned the water for food, and hordesof mudhens and ducks paddled silentlythrough watery lanes in the reed for-est. Small islands protruding from thesurface of the slough were coveredwith impenetrable 12-foot high thick-ets of wild pink roses so laden withbloom that the area smelled like theinside of a florist shop.After five miles of alternately trav-eling between aquatic sloughs and aridalkaline flats speckled with grease-wood, my road crossed the WesternPacific tracks at the North BattleMountain siding, and turned north-ward up thetrough of a wide dry val-ley. Extending west 30 miles to theSonoma Range, and north even fartherto theOsgood andSanta Rosa moun-

16 DESERT MAGAZINE


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tains, this great million-acre desertplain lies nearly 6000 feet above sealevel, and most of it is as flat as a fieldmad e ready for irrigatio n. Ye t, in allthis vast immensity I could not see asingle habitation, plowed field or tree.While crossing this valley I enteredan area carpeted with white primroses,each plant displaying a whole bouquetof large tissue-petaled flowers. Meadowlarks and horned larks were singing;jack rabbits watched both my approachand departure with supercilious de-tachment; and a big buck deer, brows-ing beside the road, lifted his head tostare at me for a moment beforebounding off across the flat.Eighteen miles north of BattleMountain I sighted a grove of tallMormon poplars and a group of build-ings, headquarters of the old Izzen-hood Ranch.North of the road beyond the ranchis a rough trail to the abandoned work-ings of an old lode tin mine. In adeeply-cut arroyo immediately belowthe discovery shaft is a gravel bed inwhich native tin dioxidecassiteritespecimens occur. They are sparse,however, and without panning or sluic-ing equipment, difficult to find.Beyond the ranch and a windmilland stock tank, the road forked and Ifollowed the easterly course up a gen-tle winding grade. Three miles fromthe stock tank I came to a low saddlefrom which it was possible to lookover a vast expanse of country leadingaway toward the Tuscarora Range.

The w hite dump of the Silver Cloud Mine stands out sharply against thedark high desert.

The road dropped down to RockCreek, a small clear stream, andveered northeast. I was now deep inthe immense W. T. Jenkins Ranch.Bill Jenkins, its founder, emigratedfrom Wales to Nevada in the 1870s.From mining he drifted into the sheepbusiness. His flocks prospered andupon his death in 1899 he left to hisyoung widow and four daughters undereight years of age, a ranch and 20,000head of sheep.Mr s . Jenkins was an unusually as-

tute businesswo man. By 1910 she in-creased her holdings to 225,000 acresof range and 60,000 head of sheep)more than were owned, it was said,by any other woman on earth.The ranch is still owned by the fam-ily. One of the Jenkins d augh ters,Louise M. Marvel of Battle Mountain,is president of the company and ac-tively engaged in its management withher husband, E. R. Marvel , and theirsons, Dick, Tom and John.Seven miles beyond Rock Creek,Rim of open pit development at Silver Cloud M ine. Material here is nearly allopalite, most of it streaked with cinnabar.

A P R I L , 1 9 5 17


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my road again forked. Themain trailcontinued east, and the trail I tookangled sharply to the left . This north-erly trending branch led beyond thefoothills to a bench overlooking thed u mp and glory-hole of the SilverCloud quicksilver mine.The milk-white pit is 100 yardsacross and 50 feet deep. Other work-ings and the ruins of an earthen-roofed concrete building lie near themain pit, and in the ravine belowsprawls the huge white rounded dump.As I mentally compared the d u mpto a giant snowdrift, it suddenly oc-curred to me that real weather wasbrewing. The sun, which had shoneso exuberantly only moments before,had been swallowed by an ominousslate-colored cloudbank rapidly mov-ing in from the west. Stepping outof the car I met the full force of theviciously cold wind.O n the pit floor were thousands oftons of gleaming white opalite liber-ally streaked wim the deep rose-red ofcinnabar. Some of this material is un-commonly rich, and several of thespecimens I collected assayed five per-cent mercury$300 a ton quicksilvero r e . Most of the material, of course,is much lower grade, probably runningon e to two percent.

Not only the solid floor of the pit,

bu t its entire sides showed traces ofcinnabar, some of it occurring in ayellowish siliceous sponge, but muchof it in the opalite. Where brokenfaces have long been exposed to theweather, the redcinnabar streaks havedulled into deep gray, but chippinginvariably reveals the handsome redpatterns beneath the surface. This isexcellent quality material for cabinetspecimens, polished book ends, desksets and spheres.The Silver Cloud claims were firststaked in the 1920s and '30s by JackMaddaford andRober t B. Hildebrand.In 1940, according to T h o ma s A.Smith of Eas t Ely, Nevada, funds forassessment work were advanced byEly Securities Company which ac-cepted, in exchange, an interest in theclaims. The following year this com-pany bought out Maddaford, and onJ a n . 1, 1942, transferred their interestto the New Verde Mines Company,

whereupon considerable developmentwas undertaken, both underground andby open pit.A 64-foot rotary kiln was installed,and two years later it was joined by a75-foot kiln. In 1942 the mine'smonthly quicksilver production ranbetween 35 and 40 flasks, and in 1943 ,with two kilns operating, output in-creased to 60 flasks monthly.

H a r d R o c k S h o r t yof Death Valley"Nope, there ain't much waterin them mountains ," Hard RockShorty was saying to the strangerwho had arrived at Inferno storein a shiny newstation wagon."An' what water there is ain'tmuch good fer drinkin ' . Somesprings has got arsenic in em.

Some is toosalty even fer boilin'potatoes . But the wurst one ofal l is that alum spring. It jestpuckers everything up that gitsnear it. D r o p a cannon ball inthe water an' it'd soon shriveldown to the size of a BB shot."I remember the time me an'Pisgah Bill was campin' there inthe 'twenties. I wuzsittin' thereleanin' against a boulder restin'an' suddenly I heered ' a yelpin'and yippin' anddown the canyoncomes a coyote chasin' a jack-

rabbit lickity-split right towardsthat water hole."When them two animalsreached the spring the rabbi tjumped right over it, but thecoyote missed its footin' andtumbled in themiddle. They wasa lot o' splashin' fer a few min-utes, an' that animal finally pad-dled out, but it didn't look nach-ural. Began shrinkin' up, an'before it'd gone 20 steps it hadpuckered down to the size of apackrat. When that rabbitlooked back an ' saw what 'd hap-pened it turned around quick andstarted chasin' that pint-size coy-o t e . The coyote saw trouble acomin ' and headed down thecanyon like a scared bansheewith the bigrabbit after 'im," Y e p , that's powerful stuff,that water in Alum spring."

That same year New Verde haltedits operations at Silver Cloud andleased the claims to B. R. Frisbie andR. C. Comozzie.When the newowners gave up thelease the machinery was sold. Rec ent-ly, the Big Butte Mining Companyacquired the property .Much of the trouble that attended

operations at theSilver Cloud, accord-in g to Smith, was caused by the opal-i t e . Because of it the ore is refractory difficult to crush and extremelyhard to roast.I was still prowling about the mine,probing into ledges and replacing goodspecimens with better, when my eyefastened upon tiny bits of whitenessspiraling down into the white worldof the pit. They were snowflakes!In my excitement over the red-streaked opalite 1 had forgotten aboutthe wind, but as 1 neared the rim ofthe pit it returned, forcibly, to my con-

sciousness. Howling unimped ed acrossthe high desert, it drove its icy needlesinto my cheeks, whipped the breathfrom my lungs, and flung its blindingcurtain of snow against my eyes.1 was grateful to find the closedinterior of my car still comfortablywarm from the sunshine absorbed thatmorning. After regaining my breath,I snuggled down in the back seat witha handful of cookies and an apple,and from that cozy position peeredou t at the s tormby then assumingall the aspects of a true blizzard.Whistling and huffing and puffing, the

wind beat viciously against the car un-til it rocked and shivered like a shipin a gale.Suddenly, the snow was replacedby sleet and hail that peppered theroof like pellets of birdshot; and min-utes later the storm ended and a won-derful hushed white world spread allaround!Mid-afternoon found the June sunagain shining in all its glad glory. TheNevada sky, once more was fiercelyblue, and only a few traces of whiteremained as evidence of the blizzardthat had so recently poured its furyupon the land.A s I started forth in search of drysagebrush for my supper fire, a littlebrown bird was singing for all he wasworth and bouncing up and down inthe air as though he was terribly happyabout something. I think perhaps hewas glad that the face of thedesert nolonger was dark beneath the veilingof heavy cloudssummer had returnedto the high country.If this is the reason for his joy, thenthe little brown bird and 1 had muchin common.I was glad. too.

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When the white mem first came to the desert , he learned of amirac le ce rea l a t easpoon of which could sus ta in an Indian on a 24-hour march . It cam e f rom the comm on dese r t sag e , Sa lv ia co lum bariae ,an d the In dia ns cal led i t chia . I ts use is decl ining tod ay, but on e ofthe men who st i l l derives energy and unusual s tamina from i t is 71-year-old hard rock miner Adolph Bulla . He mixes his with hot cakes.

By EUGENE L, CONROTTO7HE THING that amazed meabout hard rock miner andprospector Adolph Bulla of RedMountain, California, was not so muchthat he looked 20 years younger thanhis 71 years; but that he acted 20years younger. Six days a week heturns out for a full day's shift at histungsten prosp ect drilling, blasting ,mucking and haulinghard physicallabor for a man of any age.Adolph has spent the last 53 yearsas a mining stiff, the majority of it onthe western Mojave Desert. Of medi-um stature with hair that is white now,he has a frank and pleasant face re-markably devoid of wrinkles and show-ing a healthy tan. He credits his des-ert environment for his good healthand happinessespecially the Salviacolumbariae chiaw hich grows upand down the sandy hills in Adofph'scountry, when the rains arc favorable."I've always made my living on thedesert,"' Adolph was telling me oneday last fall as we sat on two empty

boxes next to the wood stove in themiddle of his small one-room cabin.It is situated a few hundred yards westIn the dried flower heads of thisdesert sage plant are the gray seedsof chia. Photograph by Phil Jon es.

of the highway in this once-lively min-ing community just over the hill fromthe more famous bonanza town ofRand sburg . "Besides metal and sun-shine, the desert has given me somevery nourishing things to eat likechia seeds," Adolph went on.He crossed over from the sleepingside of the room where two saggingcots stood against the wall, to the eat-ing side. His small sink was framedwith a variety of utensils hanging fromnails, and the cupboards were ladenedwith jars, cans and packag es. Fromthe top of a canvas-sided desert coolerwhich was indoors for the winter, hepicked up a small jar half full ofcoarsely ground gray seeds, and handedit to me. It resembled parakeet food.Each morning, Adolph explained,he mixes a teaspoon of this meal intohis hot cake batter, sometimes a littlemore when there is an especially hardday's work ahead. Thus fortified, hecan labor all day without eating again.It is handy grub to take along on a

prospecting trip for it eliminates theweight of more bulky foods, and atthe same time gives more energy,Adolph added.Chia has been used as a food forcenturies, although Adolph was thefirst white man I had met who stillregularly harvests and eats it.Among some of the earliest Mexi-can Indians, chia was cultivated as animportant cereal and continued to bea staple article of diet with the South-western Indians wherever it grew wild,which takes in a lot of territory, forColumbariae and its nearly related

species are rather common annualsgrowing throughout the Southwestfrom sea level to 7000 feet, but usu-ally below 4000 feet.It still is used by natives of Mexicowho usually prepare the seeds byroasting, grinding and then mixingwith water. Thus concocted, the mix-ture develops into a mucilaginous mass,larger than its ordinary bulk and muchlike the instant hot breakfast cerealsof today. Chia has a very pronou ncedlinseed flavor.The first white men to come to theSouthwest quickly learned of this mir-acle food a teaspoon of which suppos-edly could sustain an Indian on a 24

Adolph Bulla and the chia w hichhe says allows him to put in a fullshift of hard work every day despitehis 71 years of age.hour walk, and they too began harvest-ing and using wild chia. As late as1900 a pound of this meal sold for $6to $8 in the Southwest.

Adolph explained that if the winterrains come in the right amounts and atthe right times, the blue flowers of thisdesert sage (not to be confused withsagebrush - Artemisia - which doesnot grow on the lower deserts) areconspicuous on the open hillsides andsandy flats in March and A pril. Theblossoms, growing in tight whorls onthe long stems of the plants, are strik-ingly set off by purple leafy bractsbelow the flower heads. After theflowers pass, the stems and heads re-main standing and it is time to harvestthe tittle gray seeds in these driedheads. In good years it takes Adolphonly one day to gather a two-poundyear's supply of chia.

Adolph threshes the seed on a pieceof canvas and blows the chaff awayby mouth. "I don't have a mach ine,"he explained. "I just do it this crudeway ." My host, as polite and thou ght-ful as only a genuinely humble personcan be, swept a hand over his tinyroomnot by way of apologizing, butas explanation. "I don 't have anymodern things," he said in a low voice,"no ice box or furniture or things likethat. We live a simple life here ."It 's a shame to see man lose chia.You know, it's really a wonderfulfood," he added.

H e W o rk s All Day o n H o t c ake s 'n C h ia


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S k i d o o - - G h o s t C a m p i n t h e l o n e l yPanamintsBy EVALYN SLACK GISTPhotographs by M. B. GistMap by Norton Allen

N 1905, when the search for pre-cious metals was the consuminginterest of desert prospectors, andthe slang expression "Twenty-threeSkidoo" was a national fad, HarryRamsey and One-Eye Thompson werecamped in Emigrant Pass near the rimof Death Valley.During the night their pack burro

Perched on Death Valley's western mountain barrier is Skidoo. arelatively new (1918) ghost town and an interesting mining relic fortoday's desert travelers to visit. Typical of the fate of so many humanendeavors, the good accomplished at Skidoo during its 13 years oflife is little noted in the records, but the badmurder and lynchinglives on, forever casting its specter over this crumbling w ind-swept cam p.strayed, and the following morningwhich happened to be the 23rd day ofthat monththe two men set off tofind the animal. Its trail led to JamesArnold's mine camp, and Ramsey andThompson were so impressed with thearea's potential that they staked claimsadjoining Arnold's. Noting the dateof their good fortune and calling onthe desert wanderers' bottomless reser-

20

voir of humor, they named the placeSkidoo.There are other versions as to howSkidoo was named. Some say 23 menestablished the camp, others that theoriginal site consisted of 23 mineclaims. Still another version is that 23was the number of miles from Skidooto Birch Spring which later becamethe camp's water source.My husband and I first exploredSkidoo in January, 1947. We wereaccompanied by Les Comley, a Riverabusinessman who had carried the mailfrom Trona to Skidoo when a lad.Many of the old buildings still werestanding and the ground around themwas littered with cup-size assay cruci-bles and sun-colored bottles.It was not until last year that werevisited this interesting ghost town.From Stove Pipe Wells Hotel we drovewest nine miles on State Route 190to the Emigrant Canyon turnoff, an dsoon we left that road and started upthe nine steep rough winding miles toSkidoo. This road, though safe fora careful driver, has some stretcheswhere meeting an oncoming car wouldpresent problem s. But cars are few onthis off-trail road, for only folks whorevel in the historical and the obscurehunt out Skidoo.

The decade between our visits hadseen many of Skidoo's structures torndown or burned to the ground. Sou-venir hunters had carried away thecrucibles and bottles. The wind atthis 5500-foot altitude whistled throughbroken windows. Doors on the re-maining buildings sagged open. Min -ing shafts had fallen in. Only fourgraves, marked by broken fences, werediscernible in the little cemetery whereJames Arnold lies buried.We stood at the entrances to crum-bling tunnels, supported by timbers sorotted that only the very foolish wouldventure in. We walked among theruins of a diggings that produced inexcess of $3,000,000 in gold between1905 and 1918.Not one of the city's 1000 inhabi-tants remained, but on this lonelymountain it took but little imaginationto feel their ghostly presence and hearthe ring of iron shod boots on thestony trails,



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OI4 office building of the Skidoo Townsite and Mining C ompany.In 1908, three years after Ramseyand Thompson named the camp, theTHE mflGAZIDE

CL0S6-UPSEvalyn Gist, author of this month's"SkidooGhost Camp in the LonelyPanamints," is a long-time friend andformer neighbor of Desert Magazine.She and her husband are authors of thepopular Coachella Area Motor Tours.For the past two and a half years theyhave made their home in Yucaipa,California. They spend the summermonths traveling with their housetrailerHustle Hut IIIgathering ma-terial and photographs for articles.

* *In 1938 Dorothy L. Pillsbury, au-thor of "Navajo Shrine in Santa Fe"in this month's Desert, left SouthernCalifornia for a new life in "a littleadobe house on a wedge of New Mexi-can soil" in Santa Fe. Here shelaunched a writing career which has ledto the appearance of many articles innational magazines and two books,No High Adobe and Adobe Doorways.Her chief interest is "Northern NewMexicoits scenery, color and historyand its three culturesAnglo, Spanishand Indian and their impact on oneanotherand writing about it."

Skidoo Townsite and Mining Companywas in full opera tion. This concernhad issued one million shares of capi-tal stock with a par value of $1 each.Robert Montgomery was developerand president of the company, andMatt Hoveck was vice president. Intheir speculatory advertisements thesepromoters told of five ledges with sur-face outcroppings on the property,each of which, they felt, justified de-velopment.Prospectors flocked in from all partsof Southern California. The Cheese-brough Lines, with the Skidoo Mercan-tile Company as local agents, ran astage from Los Angeles to Skidoo byway of Johannesburg. A one-wayticket to the new boom town cost $22,express rates were four cents a pound.Kimball Brothers operated a passengerand express route linking Skidoo andRhyolite. Clark and Revaldi ran an-other to Ballarat on the western flankof the Panamints.James Arnold, the first claim holderin Skidoo, was a managing partner inthe Skidoo Trading Company Store,under whose roof was located the pros-pering Bank of Southern California.By the end of 1908 the Tucki Con-solidated Telephone and TelegraphCompany of Skidoo had strung wiresacross Death Valley to Rhyolite wherethey connected with the Western Unionlines to the outside world.And with this advance in communi-

cations came the Skidoo News, pub-lished every Saturday at 10 cents acopy by M. R. MacLeod. The news-paper's masthead carried this state-ment: "Chronicle of Skidoo Events,Its Happenings, Worked Over to Makea Newspaper."Water was piped to Skidoo fromTelescope Peak over rough terraina tremendous undertaking. Later inthe day we traced the route by driv-ing up Wild Rose Canyon toward theCharcoal Kilns. According to LesComley, most of the eight-inch pipe-line was taken up for scrap duringWorld War I.There was no jail at Skidoo. Offend-ers were handcuffed to a telegraphpole until they could be removed tothe county jail in Independence.As in most mining camps, even thoseof this century, life was rugged, andthe saloon was the community recrea-tion center. Record s show Skidoo hadat least three: The Club, The Palaceand The Gold Seal. The latter saloon,which stood across from Arnold'sstore, was owned by Fred Oakes andJoe "Hooch" Simpson, Hooch was thetown's "Bad M an" an ill-tempereddrunkard and gun fighter.There were the usual rooming andboarding houses, a hotel and numer-ous small shacks in which businessmenand miners and their families lived.

Doubtlessly there was a school, al-though I have been unable to findA P R I L , 1 9 5 8 21


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Many of the mine tunnels in the area are supported by rotted timbers.a record of one. Every canyon andlonely gulch in the vicinity had a fewcabins, but today only the fallen tim-bers, caved shafts and dark tunnelsremain . These outlying sites only canbe reached by hiking.The murder of James Arnold byHooch Simpson in 1908, and thelynching which followed, brought Ski-doo before the general public in anunfavorable light.The trouble started on Sundaymorning, April 19, when Hooch heldup bank cashier Ralph Dobbs, de-manding $20. The drunken saloonkeeper was overpowered and thrownout of the store. Before long he re-turned and this time picked a quarrelwith Arn old . Sheriff Ha rry Sellarshandcuffed Hooch to a pole, and thendispatched a messenger to Nemo Can-yon where Judge Frank Thisse wasprospecting, to secure a warrant forHooch's formal arrest.Oakes and several of Hooch's cro-nies insisted that he be released. Theypromised to stand guard over him un-til Judge Thisse returned. The sheriffagreed, and Hooch was put to bed.His friends hid his gun in the saloon'soven.

But before the judge arrived. Hooch

found the gun, crossed the street andshot Arnold.The founder of Skidoo died thatevening. An inquest was held the nextday and burial took place on Tuesday.In the absence of a minister, A. T.Hall, impressive with his flowing whitehair, conducted the rites. It was saidto be the first religious burial held inSkidoo.Hooch was not among the mourners.Instead, he began bragging about thefight and gloating over Arnold's death.This infuriated the Skidoo residents,and 50 masked men took Hooch fromthe one room shed where he was being

held under guard and quietly hangedhim from a nearby telephone pole.According to one version of thestory, the body was cut down andhung a second time for the benefit ofpress photographers from Los Ange-les and San Francisco who were de-sirous of obtaining "on the spot" cov-erage of the sensational event.In recent years there have been sev-eral attempts to reopen the Skidoomines, but nothing came of them. Un-like most other Death Valley miningcamps, the early exploitation of Skidoowas a paying venture and perhaps

HISTORIC PANORAMAS XIVL E E S F E R R Y

By JOSEF and JOYCE MUENCHSee Photographs Opposite Page

One of the most famous of allWestern river fords is Lee's Ferry(upper photograph, oppositepage) just below the Glen Can-yon sector of the Colorado River.Long used by the Indians, thisnorthern Arizona crossing at themouth of the Paria River becamea vital link in Arizona - Utahtravel in the late 1860s.Mormon John D. Lee estab-lished his ferry service here in1872, using as his first boat theEmma Dean which had beenabandoned by the John WesleyPowell river expedition. AfterLee's execution in 1877 for hispart in the Mountain Meadow'sMassacre, one of his widows op-erated the ferry for several years.Ferry service was providedhere until 1929 when the NavajoBridge, seven miles downstream,was opened. This bridge still isthe only vehicular crossing along800 miles of the turbulent Colo-rado's length.The Ferryman's house (lowerphotograph, opposite page), anold fort and several early build-ings survive at Lee's Ferry. Thispoint is Mile One on the Colo-radoupstream and downstreammarking the dividing point be-tween the Upper and Lower Ba-sins. A government water gaug-ing station replaces the earlyactivities of the ferry.Lee's Ferry is an importantterminus for river trips on theGreen, Colorado and San Juanrivers, and marks the starting

point for voyages through therapids of the Marble and Grandcanyons downstream.someday mining men again will returnto this isolated locale.We walked among the batteredbuildings and hiked the narrow gulchesundisturbed. Where only yesterday1000 people lived, we had not seena single person since leaving the high-way. Despite the increasing popular-ity of Death Valley as a winter play-land, Skidoo seems destined to crum-ble to ruin, forever undisturbed.

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A P R I L , 1 9 5 8 23


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ON DESERT TRAILS WITH A NATURALIST -- XLVIIIThis month Dr. Jaeger describes the ways of thegraceful an d highly intelligent ring-tailed cats and theirnear relatives, the raccoons and coatimundis. Thesemammals are among the desertland's most intriguing deni-zensbut lew are the fortunate people who have observedthem in the wilds because of the nocturnal habit and

cautious nature of these beneficent creatures.

Coatimundi, lejt, walks on the soles of his feet, and looks like a cross between ababoon , bear, raccoon and pig. At right is a ring-tailed cat. Draw ing by MorrisVan Dame.

By EDMUND C. JAEGER, D.Sc.Curator of PlantsRiverside Municipal Museummet Caco on an April afternoonmany years ago. From my cozycamp among the junipers in Tav-

ern Gulch, I had hiked up the longsandy brush-bordered wash to see ifmy old gold miner friend, Joe Glavo,had returned from his winter stay inLone Pine.Approaching the log and rockshanty which Joe called "The Swal-low's Nest," I knew immediately thathe was back, for freshly split pinyonwood was stacked near the door, ashirt hung on the sagging clothesline,and a new soap dish, made from aflat sardine can, had been nailed tothe cabin wall above the crude benchupon which he kept his water pail andwash pan.I knocked. No one answered, but

from within the cabin came a mysteri-ous sound of something moving. Thenall was silent. I called out. Again noreply, then the strange shuffling noise.I opened the unpadlocked rough-board door to investigate, and in thehalf-light I saw among the cans andboxes stacked on an end shelf a litheanimal of cat-like form and size in-tently watching my every move.It was a pointed-nosed, big-eyedand big-eared black and gray-browncreature with a beautiful long fluffybanded tail. His fox-like face evi-denced animation, dignity and gentle-ness.Here before me was my first sightof a cacomistle or ring-tailed cat. Iwas in the presence of a new form ofanimal beauty; his big black mild in-telligent expressive eyes impressing memost of all. "Wh at gives character toan animal more than his eyes?" I askedaloud. Instead of fleeing , this timidbright-faced creature merely retreated

behind a box, and bringing his headup , continued to peer at me.Gently I withdrew and closed thedoor. Joe would return in a shorttime, I felt, so I gathered a few drysticks, built a fire and sat near thecheery flames to write up my notes forthe day.In half an hour Joe arrived. Assoon as we had exchanged warm greet-ingsand before he had a chance toinvite me into the cabin for "beansand a visit" I inquired about theanimal I had seen."Oh, that's little Caco," said Joe,"my good little Caco, best pet andmouser on this whole mountain. He'sgetting tamer every dayeven lets mepick him up whenever I like."Caco is something to wonder about.I don't know why he stays aroundanymore, except maybe to share some

of my grub and let me play with him.When he first moved in the place was24 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E

Ring-Tai led Night Hunters


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swarming with mischievous deer mice.They kept me awake half the nightwith their scampering and gnawing.Two nights after Caco arrived therewasn't a mouse left. He caught themall."Back in the cabin we saw no traceof Caco. "He 's probably under thehouse or maybe prowling around out-side a bit," Joe explained. "Just youwait a little and he'll be coming inthrough that hole behind the stove forhis canned fish and honey supper. Hegets it every night. I'm h is friend andhe sure knows it. Just wait around alittle and you'll see the handsome ras-cal sure as fateand I don't thinkhe'll mind a stranger one bit as longas I'm in the room, too."Joe went on to tell me that twoyears previously a family of ring-ta iledcats lived with him. Caco , Joe though t,had been one of the three kittens inthat family which he had tamed withregular feedings of canned tuna andsugar."I used to give those kits a littlewooden ball to play with, and what alot of fun they did have!" Joe recalled."It didn't matter if they were indoorsor out, they were everlastingly batter-ing it about or cuffing one another.But I was surprised to see how soonthey began acting like adult catsjust didn't play with their tails anymore, or frisk about as much."Except for Caco, I haven't seenone of them since. Just don't knowwhat happened to them unless a trap-per caught them."

As predicted, Caco showed up forhis supper. He came in cautiously, butsoon began eating. A dainty feeder hewas, and dexterous with his jaws aswell as with his long-clawed paws.Supper over, old Joe picked Caco up,put him on his shoulder, and gentlystroked him. It was a beautiful p ic-ture of confidence, contentment andclose relationship between a kindlyman and his wild animal friend thatI will never forget.Here was a creature of unusualgracefulness and beauty. Tha t eveningCaco, with his marvelous liquid eyes,was the real glory of that little desertmountain cabin.The ring-tailed cat or cacomixtle(ka-ko-MISH-tlay) as the Mexicanscall it (the English pronunciation ofcacomistle or cacomixle is KAK-o-mis'l), was long brigaded with theraccoons and the coatimundi in themammalian family Procyonidae. Thesevery agile and intelligent animals allhave banded tails. The ring-tails(there are two species) now are con-sidered sufficiently unique to warranta separate family classification, the

Ring-tailed cat. Photo by Avery Field.Bassariscidae. They belong to thegenus Bassariscus, a name derivedfrom the Thracian word bassaris,meaning a fox, and the Greek diminu-tive ending iskos. It is a name doubt-lessly coined with reference to theanimal's handsome fox-like face.Cacomixtle is an Aztec word which,like many others, was carried by theSpaniards far over Mexico and event-ually to the United States. Cacomixtleappears in the Aztec and Toltec codi-cesbooks of pictographs and pho-netic signs painted on paper of magueyfiber or deer skin parchmentand itis believed that these pre-Columbiancivilizations were particularly intriguedby this animal. They may not have

venerated the cacomixtle in the sameway the Egyptians worshiped the do-mestic cat, but evidently they thoughthighly of it.The ring-tail differs from its nearly-related raccoon cousin in its moreslender elegant form, sharper nose andlonger tail (as long as the head andtrunk), longer toes and smaller teeth.This attractive animal is found inrocky terrain of arid brush and treeareas of far western United Statesfrom southern Oregon southward tothe tip of Baja California; and east-ward and southeastward through themesquite and cactus thickets of Texasand Mexico proper. Guatamala is thesouthern limit of distribution.A P R I L , 1 9 5 25


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On the Mexican Plateau, where it ismost common, it is often locally num-erous in the arid brush and woodeddistricts, and in the smaller townswhere it makes its den among thestones of the many walls separatingthe fields. It is generally b elieved tha tit will not live where water is noteasily accessible. Since ring-tails arealmost wholly animals of the night, fewpeople have seen them in the wilds.

They are omnivorous beasts feed-ing upon juniper and mistletoe ber-ries, cactus fruits, grapes, rodents,small birds, l izar

195804 desert magazine 1958 april

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