195811 desert magazine 1958 november

8/14/2019 195811 Desert Magazine 1958 November

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WILD BUCKWHEATBy Ai ICF. ZIMMERMANSanta Ana, California

1 cannot sleep forlistening tothe rain.Like slippered footsteps of a friend longgoneNow back again.And thinking ofwild buckwheat on thehill.Now it will drink its fill.For long hot months the savage, searing sunBesieged thethirsty hill with blistering heat.Till life in allthe tender plants was done.Only thebuckwheat would notgrant defeat.Passive it gathered inthe golden raysThat made it brown and beautiful, untilIt grew sodry, I almost feared totouchThe sunburned blossoms that I loved somuch.Oh, blessed long-awaited rain.Now the bright brittle tops will disappear;The seeds will scatter;And the stiff stems grow green againUnder the soft persuasion of the rain.

MAGIC DESERT DAYSBy GEORGIA JORIMNSan Diego, California

T he Sun andDesert Air spin magic withtheir hands,A veil of amethyst as thin as fairies chose.It tints the crystal on the hot, reflectingsandsTo jewel tones of purple, lavender and rose.1 too absorb this airy film ofviolet rays,Receiving Nature's gift of health fromDesert Days.

By TANYA SOUTHNothing isburied. What you arcReflects ineverything you do.By changing pace and tone and hue.You ofyourself can make ormarWhatever type of life you fill,By what you are, andwhat youwill.

By INEZ H. GossPrescott, ArizonaMy baby girl, my dark-eyed one,We are sorichwe have the sun;We have the snow and summer rains,We have the mountains and the plains.Our hogan small and snug and warm;Your cradleboard keeps you from harm,Protected by itspolished bows,Cushioned by bark of sweet cliff-rose.My prayer isnot forgreater wealth.But only "May you walk inhealth;May hunger always pass youby;May beauty by your pathway lie."

THE HARPSBy IRENE- E, PAYNELas Vegas, Nevada

Sometimes atdawn I hear Aolian harps,A faint sweet music with a haunting strainSo faraway the muted sad refrainEscapes my ear.It isfull strange that hereAmid the barren and the blasted peaks,The desert reaches that no verdure seeks,The pipes ofPan should tinkle still.Perhaps it isthe little winds that runAlong the pass toherald waking sun.Perhaps it isthe wings of birdsI strain tohear.Or yet the half heard music might ariseFrom sunrays stretching in thequiet skys.1 know not how the singing starts,Bu t inthe quiet dawnI hear the minstrel harps.

THE DESERTBy ENOLA CKAMBERLINLos Alamitos, California

Grandfather walked the desert,Pricked oxen with a goad;Fought sand and heat and darkness.And often made hisroad.Father pushed his horsesFrom dawn todark to tryTo make it to a waterholeBefore his barrels went dry.Grandfather knew the desert.Its moods, itsquiet stars;And Father took the time todrinkAt sunset's crimson bars.While I who cross the desertWith hurry asmy need.Relinquish all itsgloriesTo the subtle robber speed.

DESERT DAWNBy MIRIAM R. ANDERSONSan Bernardino, California

Expectancy pervades the quickened air,Bird orchestras tune softly, then arestilled;And silence marks the moment, forthe clearPure essence of the day to be fulfilled.Immensity bestrides the mountain peaks,The desert sands, the skythe first warmra yOf sunjewels glance to touch theedge ofspaceAnd dawn, gold-handed, sweeps the nightaway.

DESERT MAGAZINE

Prayer of aNavajo Mother


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Publisher's NotesThis month's cover photograph,depicting a happy family of desertvacationers at White Sands NationalMonument, New Mexico, heralds thereturn of the "visiting season" to theDesert Southwest. This is the monthwhen increasing numbers of week-ending rockhounds make their avoca-tional jaunts in search of agate,treasured turquoise, banded jasper,Apache tears, and hundreds of otherdesert gems. This is the month whenthousands of Easterners, feeling thefrosty approach of winter, dream ofSouthwestern warming ovens Tuc-son, Palm Springs, Scottsdale and ahundred other chosen sun spots.And this is the month when thedesertland itself is making its change-over from the sear-of-summer to thewinter-welcome phase of its manymoods.And while the seasonal changes ofour desert country go along theirway, the editorial staff of DesertMagazine goes along its way, think-ing three months ahead of today.(Conversely, it was three months ago in the 112 degree heat of lateAugustthat we were planning thisNovember issue of Desert.)* * *Some of our plans ahead includethe addition of full-color art on theback cover, some color ink on theinside pages, and gradual changes inthe format and design of our manyfeature departments.To develop a better and biggerDesert Magazine editorially, there isneed for a corresponding growth inDesert's circulation and advertisingsides. Any increment in circulationand advertising will be utilized toexpand the magazine's value as areadable, enjoyable journal for you.

* * aA survey questionnaire was mailedout last month to one out of each 10of Desert Magazine's subscribers(they were picked at random fromour circulation files). Results of thisreader sampler are already beginningto return to editor Randall Hender-son's desk. Compilation of the ques-tionnaire will be reported to youeither in January or February, de-pending on how promptly the repliesare mailed. * s #We hope an ever-increasing num-be r of you will feel, as we here atthe Desert Magazine pueblo feel, thatDesert is the ideal inexpensive Christ-mas gift. You r publishe r promisesthat those who receive Desert Maga-zine as a gift this coming year will12 times bless the giver, for Desertwill continue to bring into focus thebeauty and the wonder and the his-toric past of our Southwestin morethan 400pages of enjoyable, authenticand wholesome reading between nowand a year hence.CHARLES E. SHELTONPublisher

ABOUT THE COVER . . .White S;inds National Monument a140,000-acre playground of gleaming whitesand located 15 miles southwest of Alamo-gordo in south-cent rat New Mexico. TheMonument's slowly shifting dunes representthe largest deposit of surface gypsum in theworld. Chuck Abbott of Tucson is thecover photographer.

Volume 21 NOVEMBER, 1958 Number 11COVERPOETRYGHOST TOWNCALENDARART OF LIVINGTRAVELFICTIONINDIANSINDIANSFIELD TRIPLETTERSCLOSE-UPSHISTORYNATUREEXPERIENCEASTRONOMYDESERT QUIZNEWSMININGHOBBYLAPIDARYCOMMENTBOOKSPHOTOGRAPHY

White Sands National MonumentBy CHUCK ABBOTT

Prayer of a Navajo Mother and other poems . 2Chinese Ghost Town in the Humboldt Range

By NELL MURBARGER 4November events on the desert 6Silencethe Desert's Most Precious Gift

By ELEANOR N. FOWLER 8Trail to the Canyon of Turquoise Water

By RANDALL HENDERSON 9Hard Rock Shorty of Death Valley 12From Pueblo to Classroom, by LaVON TEETER 14Pueblo Portraits, by JOHN L. BLACKFORD . . 17Mojave Desert Opal Diggings

By HAROLD O. WEIGHT 18Comment from Desert's readers 22About those who write for Desert 22Jerome, by JOSEF and JOYCE MUENCH . . 23In the Land of Sagebrush

By EDMUND C. JAEGER 24Emily of the Desert Trails

By DOROTHY ROBERTSON 27Hobbyists Who Scan the Desert Night Sky

By GASTON BURRIDGE 29A test of your desert knowledge 30From here and there on the desert 32Current news of deser t mines 36Gems and Minerals 38Amateur Gem Cutter, by DR. H. C. DAKE . . . 41Just Between You and Me, by the Editor . . . 42Reviews of Southwestern literature 43Pictures of the Month back cover

The Desert Magazine la published monthly by Desert Magazine, Inc., Taliri Desert,California. Re-entered as second class matter July 17, 1948, at the Postofftce at Palm Desert,California, under the Act of March 3, 1879. Title registered No. 353865 In U. S. Patent Office,and contents copyrighted 1958 by Desert Magazine, Inc. Permission to reproduce contentsmus t be secured from the editor in writing,CHARLES E. SHELTON, PublisherRANDALL HENDERSON, Editor EUGENE L. CONHOTTO, Associate EditorBESS STACY, Business Manager EVONNE HIDDELL, 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 a l though due care will be exercised. Sub-scribers should send notice of change of address by the first of the month preceding issue.SUBSCRIPTION RATESOne Year SI.00 TwoYears 7.00Canadian Subscriptions B5cExtra . 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, CaliforniaN O V E M BE R, 1 9 5 8


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The railroad work for which they came to this countrycame to a close; unfriendly white men barred them from jobsin the townsit was then that the Chinese laborers turned tomining. One of their camps was in American Canyon nearLovelock, Nevada . , .

By NELL MURBARGERMap by Norton AllenChinese placer miner carrying flat-type ro cker used for m ining goldin the early days. Photo courtesyNevada State Historical Society.

ERNST was telling me ofpioneer times in Nevada, andmentioned that her mother hadgrown vegetables and sold them to aChinese colony 12 miles south ofUnionville. Seventy-five years ago ithad been quite a settlement, withstores and a joss house.This chance remark by my Union-ville friend launched a search for in-formation that extended over five years,for this ghost town quest was one ofthe dimmest, historically, I have fol-lowedand one of the most fascinat-ing.Placer gold was discovered inAmerican Canyon by white men in1871. The paystreak, however, wasbeneath so much overburden the dis-coverers did not regard it as feasibleto work the claims themselves. In-stead, L. F. Dunn and his associates,who owned most of the claims in thecanyon, leased the property to Chinese.Chinese laborers were highly un-popular in Nevada at this time. Withcompletion of the Central Pacific Rail-road, thousands of coolie employeeswere turned loose upon the country-side, ready to take jobs at a fractionof the wages commanded by white

workmen.Some of the mining camps tolerated

the Chinese as wood-cutters, but re-belled if they aspired to better occupa-tions. Other towns organized Anti-Asiatic Leagues, and evicted Orientalson general principle. As a consequence,the early 1870s found these ex-rail-roaders willing to work at anythingthat gave promise of supplying theirdaily rice and the opportunity tomine placer gold in Nevada's Hum-boldt Range came to them as mannafrom the gods.

According to Alfred Merritt Smith,former Nevada state mining engineer,the main period of activity in Ameri-can Canyon was from the 1870s to1900, although a few Chinese con-tinued placering there until 1910, andthe last resident of the canyon colonydied around 1927."When I visited American Canyonin the early 1930s, the old joss housewas still standing, and the old signwas hanging over the door," Smithtold me. "It was an elaborate sign,with Chinese characters painted inblack and red and gilt . . ."An article by Ernest G. Locke inthe Mining and Scientific Press, issueof Sept. 6, 1913, gave details of theAmerican Canyon operation:"Twenty years ago, American Can-yon in Nevada, was the scene of great

activity. Hundred s of Chinamen wereworking the gravels, and recoveringmillions in gold dust. Ample evidenceremains in the hundreds of shallowshafts and the piles of worked gravelspread over not less than two miles ofthe river bed."The ground was leased to a China-man on a royalty basis. It is said hebrought in hundreds of his countrymento whom he sublet the ground inblocks of 20 feet square. Each lesseesunk a shaft to the paystreak andmined out the ground contained inthe lease. Thousand s of piles of tail-ings attest the energy with which workwas conducted. An old Chinamanstill living on the groundthe last of500states that each block of ground20 feet square produced from $1500to $3000 in gold-dust and nuggets . . ."It is a difficult matter to make anestimate of the aggregate amount ofgold taken out of American Canyon.Chinamen are secretive as to theirgold, but . . . Wells, Fargo ExpressCompany has a record of several mil-lions of dollars worth carried out byit. F . L. Ransom e gives a reportedoutput of $10,000,000, and othersbelieve $20,000,000 to be nearer cor-rect . . ."According to Locke, the gold or-

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

in theHumboldt Range

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iginated in a range of porphyry hillsthrough which an old river cut itsbed. "The paystreak," stated Locke,"lay on a false bed of clay, generallyabout 60 feet from the surface . . .A shaft nearly 200 feet deep was sunkthrough gravels to the limestone. Thepaystreak, however, still retained itsposition at about 70 feet from the sur-face; little or no gold was found belowthe false bedrock, and none on thelimestone."Even if the production records weregrossly exaggerated, this was a lot ofyellow metal to have been recoveredfrom beneath 60 to 70 feet of over-burden by miners employing onlyprimitive tools and hand labor, andhampered by lack of water! Actually,it was an incredible mining accom-plishment.Last August I located a man whovividly remembered the colony in theCanyon! Born in Unionville in 1879,and now a resident of Reno, JoeThornton is an authority on the earlyhistory of his birthplace and its en-virons. From the early 1890s to 1904,his memory of the Oriental settlementis as clearly cut as a steel engraving.During these years Joe lived on aranch in Buena Vista Valley, nearUnionville, and made almost weeklytrips to the canyon with team andwagon, hauling big loads of pigs, tur-keys, ducks and chickens which alwaysfound a ready market.Since there was little or no waterin much of the canyon, Joe said, manyof the Chinese miners had to carry

water for placering operations. Forthis purpose they used a yoke laidacross their shoulders, with five-galloncans suspended from each end. Someof them carried water as far as a mileand they trotted all the way."They didn't get much gold out ofthe overburden, but after they hadworked their way through to the falsebedrock, they did well," said Joe."One nugget worth $1000 was foundin the canyon, and I saw many aslarge as my thum b. Pieces the size ofpeas and wheat grains were common."After sweeping the bottom of theshaft clean with a small bamboobroom, they would claw back into thewalls of the shaft as far as they couldreach with a shovel or hoebut neverso far that they could not look up andsee the sky. If they had reason tothink they had missed any gold in thefirst running of the gravel, they ranit through a second time. They weregood miners and hard workers."There were several Chinese storesin the canyon and Pete Anker andSteve Young frequently hauled inloads of supplies from Lovelock," con-tinued Joe . "Almost all the minerswere bachelors. I don't rememberseeing but two Chinese women there.Every man wore his hair in a longblack queue; and when he was work-ing wound it around his head andheld it down with his hat. Many w orethe conical straw hats of the coolies."Most of the miners lived in dug-outs or small rock cabins heated withmakeshift cookstoves. In the earlier

days they cooked over open fires; butwhen I knew them, nearly every cabinor dugout had its ramshackle stove.For the most part the miners slept onpallets or straw with a ragged blanketor two. For light they used smallmetal lamps which had no chimneysand resembled the old-time Greeklamps. I think they burned peanutoil."They used peanut oil in many otherways, especially in cooking. Theirdiets were rather restricted. Some hadgardens about 10 feet square, whichprovided par t of their living. Theywere very fond of the brown Bayoubeans. In order to utilize these to thefullest advantage, they would saturatea burlap sack with water, spread thedry beans over it evenly, and coverwith another water-soaked sack. Thiswas kept moist for several days, caus-ing the beans to sprout. When theycracked open and the skins came off,they were ready to be cooked andeaten, sprouts and all. They also atemuch rice, and imported from Chinaboth canned and dried fish, used mostlyfor seasoning the rice. Sometimes theywould take a piece of boiled fish andbarely touch it to the top of their rice,then return it to the pot for futureuse . . ."

Joe remembered the joss house well."In addition to the temple idol, thewhole place was decorated with pea-cock feathers, gilt, red lacquer andpictures of dragons and devils. Whenwe passed by we often could see theChinese priest on his knees before the

TO UNIONVILLE . MILL C ITYii A

E MILETOUS. 40-95 ATOHEANA 4.9MI. , . ' ' r ^ . ^-Ss^^LOVELOCK IB Ml. . J V g , ; ^ : 1

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Looking down Am erican Canyon across Buena Vista Valley to East Rangein backgro und. Ruins of Chinese mining settlement are near canyon mouth.idol, with his hands pressed togetherin front of him, bowing and speaking.Sometimes large groups of men wouldmeet at the joss house, and then every-one would bow to the idol, and speak,"Ed Green, who has lived in theLovelock area for 65 years, was myguide to the old Chinese ghost town.It was clear and pleasantly warm aswe left Lovelock and headed north-east on U.S. 40. After quickly cover-ing the 14 paved miles to Oreana, weturned east on a graveled road which

took us across the wide alluvial fanat the west base of the HumboldtRange, and up through Limerick Can-yon. Nine miles from Oreana, Eddirected me to halt while he consideredwhich route we should take.While my companion studied thesituation, I reveled in the fragrance ofthe juniper-grown hills, and the won-der of the desert day. I could hearthe calling of mourning doves fromhalf-a-dozen points, and in the brushbeside the road a chukar partridge

D E S E R T C A L E N D A RARIZONA

Oct. 31-Nov. 11Arizona State Fair,Phoenix.Nov. 15Arizona Boys Ranch 8thAnniversary Charity Ball, HotelWestward Ho, Phoenix.Nov. 16Catholic Fiesta, Yuma.Nov. 19-24 International AutoShow, Phoenix.Nov. 22Annual Northern ArizonaChristmas Parade, Wins low.Nov. 29-30Junior Parada, Florence.After first frostYeibichi and FireDances, Navajo Reservation.

CALIFORNIANov. 6-910th Annual Death Valley49ers Encampment (see page 28).Nov. 8-916th Annual Desert WeedShow, Twentynine Palms.

NEVADAOct. 31-Nov. INevada AdmissionDay Festivities, Carson City.Nov. 20-22State Farm Bureau Con-vention, Winnemucca.

N E W M E X I C ONov. 1'49ers Celebration, Socorro.Nov. 2AH Souls' Day, MemorialServices in all Spanish Villages.Nov. 11-13 Goodwill Tou r, Albu-querque.Nov. 12St. James Day Fiesta andHarvest Corn Dance, Tesuque Pue-b l o .Nov. 12Annual Fiesta and HarvestCorn Dance, Jemez Pueblo.Nov. 15 Ann ual Treasure H unt,Hobbs.Nov. 19-21State Farm Bureau Con-vention, Roswell.Late Nov. or early Dec. ShalakoCeremony, Zuni Pueblo.

UTAHNov. 12Annual Veterans' Day Pa-rade, Milford.Nov. 14-18Golden Spike NationalLivestock Show, Ogden.Nov. 16Catholic Carnival, Helper.Nov. 28 Children's Christmas Pa-rade, Salt Lake City.

family was discussing something im-portant.Ed decided we should go straightahead, over the ridge, and so enterAmerican Canyon from its head."It's a steep pull on this side forabout 200 yards, and it may be a littlerocky, but it'll save us pulling up thecanyon through the loose wash gravel,"he explained.In another mile and a half the roadforked again. We took the older andmore rutted trail to the left, and soonreached the summit of the Humboldts.There's a grand feeling of exhilara-tion in standing on a height from whichit is possible to see more than a fullday's journey in any direction. Tothe west stretched the road we hadascended that morninga thin whiteline etched through the gray sage tothe Humboldt Valley, where our eyesleaped the river and traveled on toracked tiers of blue mountainstheTrinitys, the Seven Troughs, the An-telope Range, the Kammas.

From the eminence of the pass wesaw the full length of American Can-yon, and the sinuous course of ourroad as it inched down the northshoulder of the canyon to disappearin its depth s. Beyond the canyon'sslack mouth spread the tawny-whiteexpanse of Buena Vista Valley, overwhich rose more tiers of blue andpurple mountains. Shimmering andrippling under the heat of mid-morn-ing, the white flat resembled a mightydragon drowsing in the sun. Onecouid almost imagine it swinging itsgreat head to hiss indolently at anintruder, before slithering back intosome geologic era of the past.With the car in low gear and thebrake pedal nudging the floorboards,we eased down the steep trail intothe canyon. We passed a small cabin,temporarily untenanted, and the campof American Canyon Mine, whereponderous dragline equipment standsrusting in the yard. The road is verypoorrutted and washed, and full ofrocks and rootsand I was thankfulfor Ed's foresight in routing us downthe canyon, rather than up.

A short distance beyond the minewe sighted the first of the old Chineserock ruins. Even at best they hadbeen primitive abodes, and now theywere quite tumbled down.Cruising slowly down the canyon,we came to the remains of a largerand more imposing building. Here thewalls still stood to a height of eightfeet, and from Joe Thornton's descrip-tion I decided this had been one ofthe stores. It was here I found my firstrelic of American Canyon's Chineseera a pint-size copper pitcher! Crude-ly made and obviously very old, it wasD E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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Joe Thornton, 79, remembers theChinese colony in American Canyon.

almost completely hidden beneathwash sand and the fallen rubble ofthe walls.The canyon trough widened andflattened as we traveled through a sec-tion overlaid with endless tailing piles.From these rounded mounds thatlooked like ant hills twice as high ashouses, a golden harvest had beenwinnowed by means of crude goldrockers, water carried in buckets, andOriental determination.Continuing down the trail we passedanother old cabin built mainly ofadobe, and entered the canyon's mainconcentration of Chinese ruins.Wandering afoot through the rem-nants of this strange ghost town, wefound a building put together frompacking case boards stenciled withChinese characters, and further search-ing in the rubble revealed scraps ofwoven reed matting. Close by stoodanother structure fabricated of boards,earth , rock and scrap tin. Since it wasonly 30 inches square and that muchin height, I suggested it was a dog

kennel."That's no dog house," said Ed."Th at's a Chinese chicken house! I'llbet you'll find roosts inside . . ."Sure enough, there were threeroosts! I suppose the tiny coop couldhave housed eight or ten hensif theydidn't mind a little crowding.Strewn haphazardly around thetumbled-down rock dwellings and thetailing piles that rose on every sidewas a strange assortment of relics:tin coffeepots of the gallon size; tea-pots and tea cannisters; huge tin cups;great numbers of shovel blades, eachworn to a nubbin; and many sheets ofmetal about two feet square perfor-

ated with holes slightly smaller thana dime. These, we surmised, had beenfitted in the bottom of the rockers tocatch and hold the gold. I was pleasedto find an iron kettle, a couple of oldbottles, and many fragments of blackearthenware jugs. We also found manybroken pieces of light-blue earthen-ware bowls, and many tins of peculiarshapes and sizesquite unlike any-thing I had ever found in other ghosttowns.Many of the old relics were beyondour ability to identify. I could haveremained there for days, searchingover the tailing piles and the ruins;but early evening found us workingour way down the wide fan that de-bouches into the valley from the can-yon's mouth. We headed back towardLovelock by way of Spring Valley andLimerick Canyon.That evening we visited Clarence

Young, whose father, Steve, ran astore and hotel at Lovelock in theearly days, and had dealings with theAmerican Canyon Chinese.One old Chinaman, Ah Lem, Youngrecalled, drove stage between the can-yon and Lovelock, and often broughtto the Young store large quantities ofgold-dust and nuggets which he ex-changed for supplies ordered by thevarious miners, or left there for safe-keeping."What became of the Chinese inthe canyon?" I asked."They straggled away," said Young."As each miner worked out his leasehe would take another as long asground was available. But when nomore unworked ground remained,there was nothing to do but move out.The more successful ones took thegold they had mined and returned toChina. Some saved enough money to

Chinese placer mining relics foundin the canyon include old shovelblades, perforated metal bottoms ofgold rockers, iron kettles and bottles.enter business in this country. ToyLee, I remember, opened a restaurantin the hotel owned by my father. Manyothers became ranch cooks and houseservants. For years there were fewranches in Lovelock Valley withoutChinese cooks. The lower class ofworkersthe coolie typefound em-ployment as railroad section hands."When I asked if there were anyAmerican Canyon Chinese living inLovelock Valley today, Young shookhis head.

"No," he said. "I'm sure there arenone left. Not here; probably no -where . . ."Ed Green inspects a primitive Chinese chicken house in American Canyon.

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Science . . the Desert's Most Precious Gift

"And a great and strong wind rent the mountain and brake in pieces therocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind;and after the wind, anearthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake, afire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire, a still small voice. Andit was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and wentout, and stood in the entering in of the cave. And, behold, there came a voiceunto him."1 Kings 19, 11-12.By ELEANOR N. FOWLER

5LENCE HAS BEEN a part of man's birthrightsince the dawn of creation. Everyone is seekingsomethingpeace of mind, serenity of spirit, asolution to problems, accomplishment, friendship, self-understan ding. As Elijah found the comm union he soughtnot in the crescendo of the wind, the turmoil of theearthquake nor in the roaring of the flames; but in thestillness which followed them, so we, too, may find whatwe seek in a time apart.Silence is a gift which the desert offers us. The seais characterized by the pounding of the surf and thecrying of gulls; the mountains are frequently lashed bystorms, or the air is vibrant with bird song and the chatter-ing of squirrels; but over the desert hangs a deep andbrooding silence, a silence which is unbroken by thesmall animals which inhabit it, or by the hawks whichglide above it.Those of us who are but a step away from the deserttoo often regard it as an arid and desolate waste. Wefrequently are blind to its beauty. But when we take the

time to walk or drive through it, there is much that wemay expect to see and to feel.There is nothing flamboyant about the beauty of thedesert, but there is something very elemental about it.There is something valiant about the tiny flowers whichstruggle for existence. There is a lesson to be learnedfrom the plants which take a precarious grasp on life inthe crevices of rocks and send their roots down throughthe fissures in the rock to the w ater that lies below. Eventhe sagebrush which we so often disparage has a symmetryequal to that of the mighty trees of our forests, a symmetrywhich bespeaks an adaptation to adverse circumstancesand a tenacity of life. There is even a subdued sort ofbeauty in the lichens which cover the rocks with a patch-work quilt of red and brown and yellow. And everywherethat it can maintain a foothold against the winds whichsweep across the sand, clings the life-sustaining grass.There is, above all, an awareness of the quiescentstrength of the desert, a strength against which the pion-eers pitted themselves and often lost, a strength with whichthe animals that make it their home must constantly copeor leave their bones to bleach in the sun. There is, too,an awareness of promise, of a slumbering fertility whichneeds only the kiss of water to awaken it to lush andverdant growth. And ov er it all hangs the splendor of thedesert sky, the balm of the desert silence.

This silence is something which we may carry awaywith us. It is a gift which we owe ourselves, for truesilence is the rest of the mind, and is to the spirit whatsleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment.In this day when our mental institutions are overflow-

ing, when the percentage of those who will some timerequire psychiatric treatment mounts alarmingly, we needto rediscover this gift of silence. We live under a growingsense of tension and pressure, and often a feeling of fu-tility. The sale of tranquilizers and b arbiturates steadilyincreases, and we seem to have forgotten that in silencethere is healing, in silence there is strength for our weak-ness, light for our darkness.Silence is a gift which we can give our fam ilies. Fromthe moment of birth, today's child is bombarded withsound. We can sometimes dispense with the radio, withtelevision, with the record player, and create a time ofstillness. By doing so, we can build a stronger bond ofcommunication between ourselves and our families byoffering this opportunity for the sharing of problems oraspirations. We can help them become articulate aboutlife's deeper meanings if we make time to listen. We cangive them room to grow mentally and spiritually, to learnto live creatively.Silence is a gift we can sometimes take to our friends.There is a great human loneliness, a great yearning forunderstanding which we can, momentarily at least, as-suage, if we will. One of the greatest needs of our time,or of any time, is for people who will listen, people whoare willing to share another's burd en. A hospital chaplainwrites of what he terms "the healing sacrament of con-versation" which he considers an integral part of theservice which a hospital should offer its patients. "Th ehealing sacrament of conversation"this is something inwhich all of us may have a part in our day by day con-tacts with other people.We are told that we use only a small percentage ofour potential brain power, that we have within us anundiscovered wealth of creative ability, that our mindscould assimilate many times the knowledge most of usacquire. Why is this true? The poet says it is because"the world is too much with us."Today's newspaper is written and compiled in themidst of ringing telephones, clattering typewriters andpounding teletype machines; but the thinking and thewriting which will endure beyond tomorrow are stilldone in a time of quietness. Only out of the depth s ofsolitude could the Psalms of David have come, or thesonnets of Shakespeare, or Einstein's theory of relativity.Only out of a stillness of mind and soul have other writersbeen able to translate into words the impressions lifemakes upon them.Silence is a gift w hich life offers us. It is a necessitywhich we sometimes deny ourselves. Would you forgetthe racing of the minutes and hear instead the slow beatof eternity? Go , then, to the desert. Of all its gifts, silenceis the greatest.

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Havasu Falls Moonev F alls

Trail to the Canyonof Turquoise W ater

In a remote high-walled canyonin northern Arizona lives a littletribe of Indians who have neverseen an automobile on their streets.Access to their village is by foot-path, and visitors either hike orride saddle horses down the rocky8-mile trail from the plateau 3000feet ab ov e. But tourists ar e wel-come because they are bringingprosperity to these far-away tribes-men.

By RANDALL HENDERSONMap by Norton AllenN MAY this year after an intervalof 16 years, I returned to Catar-act Canyonthe canyon of theblue-green watersto renew my ac-quaintance with the Havasupai Indi-ans who have dwelt in this idyllicgorge of red and cream-colored lime-stone for perhaps a thousand years.The Indians themselves do not knowjust when their ancestors migrated to

this lovely retreat.For the information of those not

well acquainted with the geography ofnorthern Arizona, Cataract Creek, alsoknown as Havasu Creek, is one of thetributaries which feed the Coloradoin the Grand Canyon area. In thisremote chasm a series of ever-flowingsprings bubble to the surface andform a sizable stream of water highlyimpregnated with carbonates of lime.Within a span of three miles the streamtumbles over three great waterfalls,with many splashing cascades between.Normally the water is a clear blue-green, but when churned by the fallsand cascades it acquires a milky tur-quoise hue and is one of the mostcolorful streams in America.

My return trip to Havasu this yearwas with Joe Wampler, archeologist,mountaineer and guide who conductsexpeditions into Havasu Canyon eachspring and fall.Our rendezvous was El TrovatoreHotel in Kingman where our smallparty met for the start of the 6-dayouting. Joe prefers small parties . Thisyear he guided 11 trips into HavasuCanyon. Mem bers of this excursion

Nava jo Fallswere Frances Field of Los Angeles,Mrs. Robert S. Worthington of El Se-gundo, California, and her mother,Mrs. Ralph D. Robertson of LosGatos, California.From Kingman the station wagonride along Highway 66 to PeachSprings and thence 63 miles over awell-graded dirt road that winds acrossthe high northern Arizona plateau tookus to an elevation of 6497 feet wherewe passed through a forest of conifer-ous trees and over a sector of theHualapai Indian reservation. Twicewe saw antelope bounding over thegrassland that bordered much of theroad.There is no road into Havasu Can-yonnot even a jeep trail. Our m otortrip ended at Hualapai Hilltop whereSupai Indians were waiting with packand riding animals to take us to theirvillage, eight miles away and 3000feet below.A steep trail zig-zagged down tothe floor of Hualapai Canyon andthence along an easy downgrade to itsjunction with Cataract Canyon.The packers also were carrying foodsupplies for the little cooperative storewhich the Indians maintain in the vil-lage. I saw the panniers on one packmule filled with fresh bakery bread,and another was carrying two bunchesof bananas. Evidently these Indians areeating better than were their ancestorswhen Father Garces, the first whiteman to visit this tribe, made his wayinto the canyon on foot in June, 1776.

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K A I D A DP L A T E A U

tSl \M oor>ey FallsO

HAVA- -e. i = v j | i cSUPAI o V fv l l lo g e

P L A T E A U

TO SELIGMAN V ToU.S.ee 6. WILLIAMSWe stopped at the village store forcold drinks, and then continued alongthe trail which follows Cataract Creekdownstream toward the ColoradoRiver.As we continued on a trail thatcontoured the hillside we were look-ing down on the tumbling stream muchof the timeand the pictures we sawas we rounded each bend of the pathwould delight a color photographer.Where the current slows down, the

lime particles in the solution, beingheavier than the water, sink to thebottom and build little dikes whicheventually rise above the surface ofthe stream at low water, forming a

series of little pools. Watercress soontakes root on these little rims of lime-stoneand the result is a series ofturquoise pools rimmed with the deepgreen foliage of the plants.Before long we could hear the roarof falling water, and as we roundeda sharp bend we saw the stream tum-ble 100 feet over the brink of NavajoFalls. In the formation of Navajo aswell as the other falls in Cataract Can-yon, Mother Nature was good to thephotog raphers . With a minimum ofeffort, well-composed views of thestream as it tumbles over its traver-tine wall can be obtained from aboveor below or from a dozen oblique

Hualap ai Hilltop, where the road ends. Here Indian p ackers meet incomingvisitors with pack an d saddle animals. The trail is down Hualap ai Canyo nin the backgro und. Distance to Supai V illage eight miles.

stances. Truly this is a parad ise forthe camera hounds.In another half mile we came toHavasu Falls, formerly known asBridal Veil Falls. Higher than Navajo,the stream here breaks up into severalrivulets which spray down over thetravertine face in an ever changingpattern.The lime in the water is constantlybeing deposited to form fantastic ap-rons of rock. Actually the processhere is much the same as in the for-mation of stalactites in limestone cav-erns. Each drop of water as it falls ordrips down the face of the falls leavesbehind a tiny residue of limestoneand as this goes on year after year agreat vertical tapestry of stone is beingformedand is ever changing. Hava -su Canyon is one of the few placeswhere the great stone crust of theearth is still in the making.A half mile below Havasu Falls isa little natural park shaded by cotton-wood and ash trees, and it is here thatJoe Wampler maintains a permanentcamp. There is a little cook shackwith an outdoor fireplace, tables andbenchesand a gong to summon theguests to chow.I am sure that no campers ever en-joyed better meals than were servedto us in Havasu Canyon. MaurinePeterson, who presides in the campkitchen, holds a master's degree in zo-ology at the University of Idaho anda master's degree in public health atMichiganand I would be in favorof granting her a master's degree alsoin camp cooking. She prefers the out-doors to the classroom hence her

service with the Wampler organiza-tion. Her assistant was Martha (Mar-10 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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Joe Wam pler, archeologist, moun-taineer and guide, who prefers theoutdoors to the classroom.ty) Ellis, a college girl earning vaca-tion money. Marty was doing the jobonce classified as camp flunkybutin the teenage vernacular of todayshe was serving as pot-walloper. An y-way, she did the job well, and enter-tained us in the evenings with herguitar.The water in Cataract Creek isdrinkable despite its heavy lime con-tent, but a little spring near the campprovided clear water which we pre-ferred.

Our five days in the bottom of thecanyon were taken up with hiking andexploration. There are numberlesspoints of interest both in the canyonand on the high rims above. With Joeas guide we climbed some of the foottrailssome of them too steep forriding animals, but not too difficult forhikers. Many of the wildflowers werein blossom in May, salmon mallowpredominating, but we also saw Indianpaintbrush, Prince's plume, monkeyflowers and fleabane.

The photographer gave these Supaichildren a packa ge of dates.

One day we hiked to Mooney Falls,three-quarters of a mile below camp.Here a stairway trail, partly througha tunnel, descends through die traver-tine face of the waterfall. These fallsare said to have been named for aprospector who many years before thetrail was carved out of the rock, triedto descend with a rope, and was killed.Three miles below Mooney is Bea-ver Falls, which really is a glorifiedcascade. Uranium prospectors, withthe consent of the Indians, had beenin this canyon, and at one place asteel ladder extended 200 feet up theface of the cliff to a little tunnel thathad been abandoned because it didnot yield sufficient pay ore.

We were in and through the Indianvillage many times on our hiking trips,and I enjoyed a visit with Victor Col-lins, who has been stationed in Supaivillage seven years as agent for theBureau of Indian Affairs. Collins ishoping that the Bureau will come inand install a water-wheel for power,and other facilities to replace the crudeirrigation system which serves about300 acres of fertile soil in the bottomof the canyon.Collins told me that several of theIndians left the canyon to take jobsin distant white communities underthe direction of the Indian Placementoffice. Bu t among all those who left,only two stayed with their job s. Theothers have all returned to their homesin Supai village.

Indian farming is rather haphazard.The soil is fertile on the floor of thecanyon, and the water supply ample.Also, the Indians, through their coop-

Reed Watahomagie, grandson of aformer Havasupai chieftain, whomanages the Indian cooperativeenterprises.erative organization, and with somehelp from Uncle Sam, have acquiredmodern farming tools to take the placeof the primitive utensils formerly used.

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But the Supai are better horsementhan farmers at least they preferlivestock to the toil of plowing, culti-vating and irrigating. The increasingtourist travel into the canyon nowbrings them a substantial income as

packers and wranglers and as thebarometer of tourist prosperity rises,the barometer of farm activity hasfallen. The two panniers filled withfresh store bread are symbolic of thechanging way of life in Havasu Can-

H a r d R o c k S h o r t yof Death ValleyFrom theporch of the Infernostore a cloud of dust could beseen moving rapidly down thevalley."Visitor comin' ," remarkedHard Rock Shorty.A few minutes later a big dust-covered automobile stopped infront of the gas pump and the

driver sauntered toward theporch steps."Think it'll rain?" he askedas he glanced along the row ofold-timers seated on the woodenbench.Shorty squinted up at thedarkpatch of clouds overhead. "Prob-ably will," he conceded, "but Icain't tell yu where. These des-ert storms comes in spots an'has clean edges. They does funnythings sometimes."I'll tell yu what I mean,stranger. One summer PisgahBill decided to raise a flock o'

chickens. 'Ain't no sense goin'without fresh meat,' he ex-plained, 'when chickens is soeasy to raise.'"So he had a cage o' PlymouthRocks shipped out to Barstow,an ' the day they wuz to arrivehe drove his oF jalopy down tothe railroad to pick 'em up. Heput the crate with the chickenson the back end o' the car."Looked purty dark downsouth, an'Bill figgered the rain'dcatch up with him if he didn'thurry. His oF lizzy'd only go27 miles anhour, but he steppedon the throttle, and kept jestahead of the storm all theway in."When he got to Inferno herolled under the shed over therewith the cloudburst pcltin' theroad jest behind him. Didn't geta drop o' water on hisselfbutwhen he went around to unloadthe chickens they wuz alldrowned,"

Frame houses have replaced thebrush shacks which theSupai occu-pied before Uncle Sambecame in-terested in their welfare.yon. Unfortunately, the tourist indus-try is not a year-around source ofincome, and when the pack animalsare idle in winter, many of the Indianfamilies go on relief rolls.Evidently some of theclothing gath-ered by charity organizations for dis-tribution to needy Indians reachesSupai village. I saw some of itonscarecrows placed in the fields to keepdie birds away from the grain crops.I amsure it was gift clothing, forHav-asupai women are rather plumpandnone of them could have worn someof those sleek, willowy dresses whichadorned thescarecrows.Under the guidance of the IndianBureau officials, the Indians in Hav-asu operate a very effective coopera-tive Havasupai Indian Enterprises.The Indians, by democratic procedure,select one of their members as man-ager, andoperate the store, and pro-vide pack and riding stock, and lim-ited hotel accommodations, for tourists.

Supai Tourist Information.For those who maysooner or laterwish to visit the canyon of the SupaiIndians, complete information as tosaddle andpack animals, and accom-modations in Supai village may beobtained by writing to HavasupaiTourist Information, Supai, Arizona.Mail goes into the canyon by packanimal twice a week. There is alsotelephone service to tbc village.

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Manager of the Enterprises is ReedWatahomagie, a bright well-educatedyoung man whose grandfather, beforehis death, was chief of the 240 tribalmembers. When a request comes inby mail or telephone for riding poniesand pack animals for a visiting touristgroup, Reed's job is to make sure therequired number of animals withwranglers are at Hilltop when themotorists arrive there for their trailtrip down to the village.The little school house built by theIndian Bureau in Supai is no longerbeing used. It cost the Bureau $35,-000 a year to operate the school, andit was found more economical to keepthe Indian children in boarding schoolat Phoenix and elsewhere. Opinionamong the tribesmen is divided as towhether they would prefer to havetheir children in a local school, orlodged at the boarding schools out-side.We found Joe Wampler a very co-operative guide and camp manager,and I was interested in learning whya man well qualified for a college pro-fessorship should chose to follow thehectic career of wrangling dudes in theHigh Sierras and other out-of-the-wayplaces. In addition to his HavasuCanyon schedule, he conducts trips onthe Muir Trail each summer, also a"leisure camp" in the Sierras, a "fish-erman's special" in the Santa LuciaMountains out of Carmel, California,and two annual trips to Barranca delCobre in Mexico.Joe is a native of the ShenandoahValley in Virginia. He was forced toleave college in his home state becauseof an eye ailment. He came to Cali-fornia, and when medical treatmenthad cleared up his problem of vision,he entered the University at Berkeley.As an interlude in his college traininghe had an opportunity to go to Pales-tine on an archeological expeditionarranged by the Pacific School of Re-ligion. After three of these Holy Landexpeditions he returned to the PacificSchool of Religion to complete hiscollege work and get his master's de-gree.He was well prepared for a scholas-tic career, but the call of the outdoorswas more insistent than that of theclassroom and in 1950 he organizedhis first trail tripover the 189-mileMuir Trail in the California Sierras.Year by year the popularity of hisTrail Trips has increased and he keepsadding more outings to his schedule.There isn't time in a week to coverall the trails in and bordering HavasuCanyon, nor to become well acquaintedwith the tribesmen there, but it wasa satisfying outing in every way. Oneday we went to the village to obtainsome of the hand-woven baskets made

Sweathouse in H avasupai Canyon. The stones in the foreground are heatedand carried into the dugout and dashed w ith watera crude form of steambath. The sweathouse also serves as club rendezvous for the Indian men.

by the Indian women. Havasu womenare experts at basketry, but only a fewof them are working at it, and becausethe supply is limited, the prices arerather high. I can say in behalf ofthe Indians, however, that they arenot devoting as much time to gamblingas they were 16 years ago.According to the anthropologists,the Supai are of Yuman stock, havingleft the Colorado River valleys andmigrated to the northern Arizona pla-teau perhaps as long ago as 800 A.D,Like the Indians along the Colorado,the Supai do not have the elaborateceremonials of the pueblo Indians fur-ther east. Since there are no kivas inthe Supai settlement, the men use thesweathouse, a mud-covered dugout,as a sort of club house. There they

gather in the afternoons to lounge andgossipand I have no doubt some ofthe laughter is related to the businessof wrangling eccentric dudes down thetrail which leads into this canyonshangri-la.Not all the visitors come to Supaiby the Peach Springs route. Anotherroad leads from Grand Canyon to an-other hilltop terminal at Topocoba,and from there it is 14 miles by trailto Supai village. The Indian packerswill meet visitors at either hilltop, ifarrangements have been made aheadof time.But whether from Hualapai or To-pocoba Hilltop, the trip to the Supaivillage and the magnificent waterfallsof Cataract Canyon is a never-to-be-forgotten experience.

Much of the m aterial for this m ission building in H avasupa i Canyo n wasbrough t in by helicopter.

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The University of New Mexico's Kiva Club studentswho help fellow Indians bridge the gap

F r o m P u e b l o t o C l a s s r o o m

7HE YOUNG Navajo's brownfists were clenched at his sideas he looked around the strangecollege dormitory. Many times beforehe had left his reservation and familyto attend Indian schools, but this uni-versitythis place where he was toget a higher education-was entirelya white man's world!Was it for this aching loneliness inthe heart of an Indian youth sur-rounded by hundreds of white teachersand pupils that he had dreamed andprayed and worked and sacrificed?Was it for this his tribe had so proudlysent him to the University of NewMexico?Then, from the open doorway camemagic words: "Yaheh-teh! Yaheh-teh!"Hello! Hello! Words hard and gut-tural to others, but to him warm andfriendly! Sweet as the Night WayCeremony! Sweet and familiar andkind, m elting the frightening aloneness.Ano ther Navajo! A fellow studenthere to welcome him, to make himfeel at home, to explain, advise, en-courage and unde rstand. Suddenly,the sun, stars and moon were rightagainthanks to the Kiva Club.The Kiva Club at the University ofNew Mexico in Albuquerque takes its

By LaVON TEETER

Part-time job with Bureau of Indian A ffairs resulted from s kills Billl Garcialearned in college. Loo king over his work is Engineer John T. Finley.At left Bill and Mae P aul Scott, a Navajo, in their Nizhoni D ance costumes.name from the ceremonial chambersof Southwest tribesmen, but it differsin that it welcomes palefaces and fe-males, has no secrets, and is dedicatedto the advanced education of the In-dian. Organized five years ago, todayits membership numbers 60. Althoughany interested person may join, themajority of its members are Indianstudents who represent almost everytribe in the state as well as the Sioux,Hopi and others from outside NewMexico.On campus the club functions as awelcoming agent, an economic andsocial helper, and an inspirational con-tact for a minority group which mustmake a difficult adjustment to the non-Indian world. Off campus Kiva de-votes its time and talents to encourag-ing younger Indian boys and girls toseek a college education, and to mak-ing one possible.

Whether members are electing theirrepresentative to the Student Senate,decorating a prize-winning Homecom-ing float depicting an exciting phaseof Indian life, handing out scholar-ships, hosting visiting pueblo groups,or talking with quiet earnestness toIndian School graduates, pride of raceand the desire to preserve time-hon-

ored cultures glow with the brightnessof a ceremonial fire. This spirit reachesout to all visiting Indian celebrities.When Pop-Chalee, noted Indian artist,came to Albuquerque last spring tolecture for the Y.W.C.A., members ofthe Kiva Club were on hand to wel-come her, and serve as ushers at herperformance.Indian students tell me that theywill always remember their first daysat the University, and the warm spotthey have in their hearts for the KivaClub. It gives them their own peopleto aid in an adjustment which, at best,is naturally slow, and, at worst, causesnewcomers to quit and drop out ofschool. It provides elder brothers toencourage them to stay at a dormitory,mingle with others, and to study; toextend financial help in the form ofscholarships, loans and part-time jobs;and to offer needed recreational activ-ities.I found it interesting and worth-while to attend some of the Kiva meet-ings, and hear speakers familiar withthe Indian's problems of adjustmentand adaptation. We heard from In-dian Bureau and United Pueblo Coun-cil spokesmen, faculty members, andolder students like Edmund Ladd, a

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Zuni graduate in anthropology whobelieves "No race has ever risen abovethe height and breadth of its leader-ship."While chili, tamales and Indian comare being enjoyed at party get-togeth-ers, students discuss the need for bettereducational opportunities and morescholarships for their people. Informa-tion concerning the availability of suchaid is passed on to others to help in-crease the number of Indians attend-ing colleges and universities.Dr. W. W. Hill, chairman of anthro-pology at UNM, serves as advisor tothe club. A better man for the jobcould not be found. During a discus-sion concerning a lagging fund raisingproject, Dr. Hill quietly and effectivelysettled the m atter by saying, "Of courseyou will finish the drive on timeif Ihave to sell the whole anthropologydepartment down the river to getneeded help!" That's the kind of talkthe students understand and like.

Of the 18 pueblos in New Mexico,few are in a financial position to offeradequate assistance to their youngpeople seeking higher educations. La-guna, with money accumulated fromleased mining rights on its land grant,is in the process of working out suchan aid program. The Tribal Councilfor the nation's largest tribe, the Nav-ajo, wealthy from uranium and oilleases, has set aside $100,000 inscholarships. These are exceptions,Spirited Apache Devil Dancers per-form at the Kiva Club's NizhoniIndian Dances.

San Ildefonso Pueblo tribesmen perform the Comanche D ance, a ceremonyborrowed from the fierce nomadic Comanches.however. Most of the pueblos needthe help of the Kiva Club.First Kiva president was HamptonHaozous, a Chiricahua Apache whosegrandfather fought with Geronimo.Hampton joined the Marines at 16.In 1951 he was discharged, and en-rolled in the University. "I see educa-

tion as a solution to the problems ofmy peop le," he said. "I hope somedayto sit in the tribal council myself."Charlie DeJoie, a Navajo, is anotherIndian boy who came to the Univer-sity and became active in the KivaClub. In 1949 he was given an all-expense scholarship to Exeter Acad-

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emy in New Hampshire, and wasgraduated with such high honors theTribal Council gave him a $1300 an-nual scholarship to attend the Univer-sity. The Navajos chose wisely inbringing this boy from hogan to class-room. "My only purpose in getting aneducation is to help my people," hesaid.Last year Kenneth Hailstorm, for-mer UNM student from the AcomaPueblo, was one of 200 Navy volun-teers to spend 14 months in Antarctica,where living was "like being in a bottleof milk." Kenneth is now an instructorin a San Diego sonar school.An increasing number of young In-dian women appear on the roster. TwoZuni girls, from a tribe where th is isagainst all tradition, are universitycoeds. A Navajo girl, Shirley Arviso, isin the graduating class. She majored inbacteriology. Sunset Martinez, grand-daughter of Maria the Potter, was a

student. Doro thy Aquilar, a Tewafrom the San Ildefonso Pueblo, tookwork at the University under a $500scholarship awarded by Gaylord Phil-anthropies, Inc. These scholarshipsare maintained to train leaders neededby Indian groups. Ford Foundationscholarships also have been given tosome Indian students.Although all tribes encourage stu-dents who secure a higher educationto return to their people, the Navajosare the only ones who make this astipulation. I had only to hear manyyoung Indian students speak of whatinterests them most, however, to learnthat most are returning voluntarily totheir pueblos and reservations. Theyare interested in sanitation, welfareservices, Indian attitudes toward ris-ing problems, local government, thetribesmen's bewilderment over non-Indian rules and regulations, and theindifference among their own peoplewhich they must fight.In the last five years the Kiya Clubhas given over 20 scholarships. Acommittee evaluates the applications,working with University officials. "A tthe present time," explained a Kivaspokesman, "practically every quali-fied applicant can get a scholarship,but we foresee difficulties as the num-ber increases."The club's earnest desire to helpevery worthy Indian who wishes toattend UNM has led to a fund raisingfeature unique enough to attract anaudience not only from the school andits environs, but from the whole South-west as well. This is the Nizhoni In-dian Dances held on campus everyspring."Nizhoni means beautiful," the Nav-ajo students told me, and no word canbetter describe these cooperativedances put on in all their lovely color

and authenticity. Over 200 dancersfrom the reservations and pueblosgather at the university as guests ofthe Kiva Club. They set up an Indianvillage, tour the campus, and, whennight comes, perform in the dances.It is a night of thrills! Religious ,social and ceremonial dances that arecenturies old. Flying feathers overbuckskins and buffalo hides. Beatingdrums! Ceremonial chants! Danceafter dance offers two hours of en-chantment and a marvelous oppor-tunity to understand and appreciateancient cultures.The Nizhoni Dances not only useskilled performers from the pueblos,but also pupils from the state's twoIndian schools at Albuquerque andSanta Fe. Sometimes small childrenfrom the Jemez and San luan pueblos'day schools display the steps of theDeer Dance. Professional Indian dan-cers often donate their services. TonyWhite Cloud, who has performed inMadison Square Garden and Europe,is a featured attraction.The beautiful Navajo Sunrise Song,which opens the Nizhoni IndianDances, usually is sung by Ed LeeNatay from Canyon de Chelly. Tribes-men employed by the Bureau of In-dian Affairs have performed the PeacePipe Dance of the Plains Indians.Laughing Eyes, a Zuni, and ClarenceTaptuka, Hopi, nationally known In-dian singers, have been soloists.The Nizhoni Dances convinced methat the Kiva Club has found a mostappropriate and charming way to helpthe cause of Indian education. Nowonder every member is proud andjoyful as the dollars, sometimes severalthousand , are received. As for theparticipants, one of them expressed thecommon feeling when he said, "Wefeel well paid for our efforts when weknow it means another son or daughterfrom our pueblo will go to college."Yes, Kiva Club is proudbut notsatisfied! It goes on planning biggerand better events. If a beautiful dancefestival is a wonderful method of rais-ing money for scholarships, whywouldn't a beautiful song festival beequally wonderful? The current Kivaaspiration is to put on a music festivalIndian folk songs and music, witha narrator to explain their meanings.Kiva, in spite of commercial temp-tations, keeps its spirit as true as thepueblos maintain their ancient dances.It consistently refuses to add anythingto its repertoire that is not in absolute-ly authentic Indian tradition. Nocrowning of queens! No ads! No bor-rowing of the white man's glamourtricks!Kiva Club is the only one of its kindin New Mexico, but similar organiza-tions are springing up and growing

throughou t the Southwest. Kiva Clubhopes to promote a joint meeting withIndian clubs at the University of Ari-zona, Brigham Young in Utah, andArizona State. When such a meetingis held it will be a gathering of youngpeople not only proud of their heritageand determined to preserve their an-cient cultures, but also bravely andrealistically accepting the challenge ofsecuring higher education for the In-dian youth of today."We are happy to dance, or sing,or work, or do anything else that willhelp bring degrees to our people,"these students tell me.And they do not forget that Yaheh-teh! Yaheh-teh! to the strangers amongthem is often the timely greeting thatbridges the gap between pueblo andcampusthat makes brown fists un-clench and Indian minds and heartsopen to receive this precious gift ofhigher education.DESERT SURVIVAL RULESLIS TED BY YUMA S HERIF F

Yuma County Sheriff's Office hasdrawn up a list of 9 "desert traveldon't" which it hopes will preventfurther loss of life among persons mak-ing desert outings in that area:(1) Don't forget to tell someonewhat area you are going to and whenyou expect to return.(2) Don't start out unless your caris dependable.(3) Don't leave your car if youbreak down. Stay with it.(4) Don't forget to take an extrasupply of water, gasoline, food,matches, etc.(a) Don't waste your water.(b) Don't forget to build a smokefire, preferably of greasewood.(5) Don't forget to take a whitesheet or canvas to spread on theground. It can be spotted easily fromthe air.(6) Don't forget to leave some vis-ible sign of direction if you are forcedto leave your car.(a) Don't forget to make markingswith rock pointing in direction taken.(b) Don't forget to take penciland paper (or even rags) to writevaluable information on.(7) Don't send your partner in forhelp. We want him to live too.(8) Don't start walking under anyconditions unless you are positive youcan make it back to civilization. Weknow from past experience that evena man that is sure of his surroundingsseldom gets back alive.(9) Don't get excited or panicky inyour desolation. It makes the heat lessbearable and the chances are good thatwe will find you.



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Pueblo Portraits By JOHN L. BLACKFORD

N O V E M B E R , 1 9 5 8

Pueblo belle of San Ildefonso. Her village is on the east bank of the Rio Grandea few miles north of Santa Fe. San Ildefonso is noted for the skill of its artistsand pottery craftsmen.

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Here's a desert outing for folks whose outdoor interests are varieda weekend field trip onwhich collecting gem stones, studying ancientIndian petroglyphics, examining oldmining relics, and other activitiesall can be enjoyed-By HAROLD O. WEIGHTM ap by Norton Allen

N 1940 AND 1941 I spent myevery free day following trailsand byways of the Opal Moun-tain-Black Canyon country northwestof Barstow, California, and collectingnodules, jasper and opal there. Forin addition to rockhunting, there isendless fascination in this MojaveDesert wonderland for anyone with atrace of interest in archeology, geol-ogy, botany, photography, hiking andmining history.Since World War II, every time wesighted Opal Mountainand it is anancient landmark visible great dis-tances and from many placesI re-membered thegemstones I had found.Then I would tell Lucile about thenatural wonders and man-made curi-osities there."But," I invariably concluded, "thegeodes and jasper probably are allgone now."And invariably Lucile wouldprotest: "But, undoubtedly theIndianpetroglyphs are still there! And theopat mines, the tufa cliffs and thelava flows! Let's go and see!"So in April of this year, with Lauraand Buren Briggs, publishers of Twen-tynine Palms' newspaper, The DesertTrail, we wentpartly to satisfy Lu-cile's curiosity, partly because thisspring was a spectacular desert flower-ing season and wewanted to see theupper Mojave in bloom.But, most of all, we were afraid

that if wedelayed too long, we mightnever go. The Armed Services areattempting to absorb this wonderfulland into their already grossly-over-stuffed multi-million acre super-empirewhich hassealed off most of this partof the Mojave-including the NavalOrdnance Test Station, Edwards AirForce Base, Camp Irwin and theCud-deback Range. And we knew that ifthey succeeded, it probably would beclosed to the ordinary American citi-zen for the rest of our lives.

Their failure so far has been dueto the lawsponsored byCongressmanEngle which forces the military toobtain Congressional approval for anybig grab. Currently theNavy is seek-ing 250 square miles in the OpalMountain, Black Canyon and Moun-tain, Inscription Canyon and SuperiorValley area. Conservation societies,the Western Mining Council and SanBernardino County Supervisors arestanding firm against the request.

The route we followed from Bar-stow last spring along old CaveSprings (nowCamp Irwin) Road tothe Superior Valley Road, then onthe Coolgardie Trailis not the bestor theshortest, but it has always beenmy favorite. About a dozen milesfrom Barstow it enters one of the finestJoshua forests on the Mojavetower-ing giants truly arboreal inappearance,with massive straight trunks, stoutbranches and thick crowns. They are

Trail in thepass between Opal andBlack mountains plunges sharplydown toBlack Canyon.best viewed along thewandering twin-ruts of the Coolgardie Road.Coolgardie's most enduring monu-ments are the great mounds of rockand gravel on the brushy slopes mute reminders of the massive back-breaking labor that is the basis of allmining. The dry-placer camp wasnamed for the famous diggings inAustralia. Its gold, according to Cali-fornia state geologists, came from thesame ancient river bed that left richdeposits at Summit Diggings, GolerWash andRed Rock Canyon. Miningbegan in 1900, and a number of menwere still working before World WarII.At that time it seemed every footof ground wasowned, and the minerswere extremely touchy about trespassabuses. On our recent trip westoppedto photograph the tin roof of a col-lapsed cabin bearing the words "OldCoolgardie Camp." This cabin wasstanding, though dilapidated, on mylast previous visit, with a sign on itI've always remembered:

"NOTICESince '25 this cabin isclaimed by me to be within the S.E,one-quarter of the S.E. one-quarterof S.32.Nothing but a legal surveydisproving it will be accepted. Allline-stepping, marker-changing non-working s neak ing rats KEEP AWAY."We saw no evidence of recent oper-ations there this spring, but since theowner's name was freshly painted onthe collapsed cabin, the same condi-tionsand feelingsmay still exist.

18 DESERT MAGAZINE

M ojave Desert Opal Diggings


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Six miles southwest of Cooigardiewe joined the main road from Hinkley,improved about 1947 to a pumicequar ry. But we left it almost immedi-ately, since the road we soughtup tothe pass between Opal and Blackmountainsbranches west from it justnorth of where we came in. Thisquarry road from Hinkley is the bestand most direct route to Opal Moun-tain especially recommended forlow-clearance cars.The Mojave around Barstow wasindeed sharing in the spring's greatflowering. The displays multiplied aswe drove on. The air became scentedwith perfume, and we passed throughgreat gardens of many-colored blooms.We negotiated the last four-tenthsmile up and down a steep ridge andpast an old loading frame into thelittle valley between Opal MountainPeak and the flow-cliffs of BlackMountain. When I first came here,in the spring of 1940, I was guidedby Marion A. Speerthe man whoopened this area for the rockhoundsand led hundreds of them into it. Mostcollectors know him, or know of him,since he is a real pioneer in ourhobby."After I was transferred to Califor-nia by the Texas Company in 1925,"Speer told me recently, "I met a manin the Cadys who recalled seeing somepeculiar rocks in the Opal Mountaincountry. I went to find them."The bald face of Opal Mountainwas my guide. I started north fromHinkley in an old Dodge and finallyreached Opal Mountain and pros-pected out the geodes."My second trip was in 1927. Wecamped two nights, digging geodesfrom the wall to the north . Since thenright to the present, I have been tak-ing people out there."Speer first displayed some of hisrocks and the historical relics of boomcamps, freight lines, mining en terprises,frontier trails and railroads at a littlemuseum building in Huntington Beach.Today the Western Trails Museumthe result of 300,000 miles of wander-ing and collectingis a prime attrac-tion at Ghost Town, Knott's BerryFarm, Buena Park.Except for a few on exhibit, Speerhas given away all the nodules andgeodes collected in Opal Mountain.On our trip to Opal Mountain thisspring we found no complete noduleson the tertiary side, though pieces ofchalcedony, opal and matrix could bepicked up almost everywhere. But, afew minutes shovel work producedtwo fair sized whole nodules, whichseemed to bear out Marion Speer'sinsistence: "There are plenty of goodones leftyou just have to dig!"N O V E M B E R , 1 9 5 8

Still the prize in the author's Opal Mountain collection is this four and ahalf by five and a half by eight-inch nodule-log, collected 18 years ago.As for the jasper on the BlackMountain sideonly the surface hasbeen scratched. It is possible to findgood pieces even in areas activelyworked. And on that trip and twowe have made since, I dug out gemjasper banded, moss and someplume, in reds, yellows, lavenders,greens and browns-better than anyI found 18 years before.With the day passing rapidly, weloaded our rocks, returned to the mainroad, and followed it over the divide.Here it plunges down a ridge to thefloor of a Black Cany cm tributary.Jeeps and high pickups will have notrouble with this ridge route. Other-wise it is for experienced rough-roaddrivers, and down-hill is advised.Entering Black Canyon, the roadbranches. The left fork goes directlydown to Harper Lake and Hinkley.Once this was a bad sandy road up-grade. Now, apparently, most of theyear it is a good often-used route forentering the canyon.

We turned right, up Black Canyon,to examine some of the old opal mines.Common opal is found many placeson both sides of Opal Mountain. Someis pretty and will cut small stones, butthe mining rush here early in the cen-tury was for precious opal. CharlesOrcutt, pioneer California mineralo-gist, described its occurrence here.But, if it does exist there is no re-corded production, and the minerswho trenched and dug failed to findit in paying quantities.It is legendary that Tiffany & Co .,New York, mined gem opal in BlackCanyon. A 1954 newspaper storysaid Tiffany had found a $2000 stonethere "recently." I could never findconfirmation of these yarns, and Mar-ion Speer, who contacted the Tiffanypeople, declares : "They told me theythought the geology was right forprecious opalas I doand that theyhad spent $90,000 there, but had neverfound fire opal."I have never seen evidence of a $90-

Buren Brigg s and Lucile Weight examine the collapsed ghost of old Cooi-gardie, early Mojave dry-p lacer camp . Opal Mountain is at u pper left.


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000 mining expenditure in Black Can-yon. The most enduring ghost of thatera of lost dreams is the sturdily con-structed semidugout of the AmericanOpal Company, cut in the tufa aboutone mile up from the Opal Mountainroad junction. In the '40s it some-times was referred to as the mysteryhut, and this spring I was surprisedto find "Scout Cove" painted on thestone door arch. There is no mysteryabout the dugout, and the Scoutsdidn't build it. Once on that samedoor was printed: "American OpatCompany, 1910."Personally, I am very fond of thatdugout. One day in 1941 I arrivedhere before daylight, and began dig-ging in the opal veins to the west. Ipaid no attention to the intensifyingheat, and at noon was struck with altthe symptoms of heat exhaustion. Icrawled into the dugout, soaked myhead, and then relaxed in its rela-tive coolness until the sun was gone.When I felt able to move, I droveback to Barstow.

From the dugout we turned backdown thecanyon. Black Canyon, withlava cliffs and flows overlying sheertufas and contorted sedimentaries, isspectacular enough to reward any vis-itor. And besides, it has been a trail-way since the first dusky desert travel-ers passed this way. In several placesthey left pctroglyph mem orials. Aboutsix and four-tenths miles down fromthe Opal Mountain branch, westoppedin the narrows to photograph a par-ticularly fine group to which MarionSpeer had introduced me in 1940.It was dusk when we reached thecanyon mouth. There the greatestthrill of the trip was waiting. Wethought we had seen mass bloomingon the other side of Black Mountain,but here, between its southern baseand Harper Lake, and stretching eastand west as far as we could see, wasa sheet of pate blue-lavender like someother-world ocean. Hardly believingall these square miles could be flowers,we drove among them and stopped.The perfume was heady, and as a

sV

Old American Opal Co.Dugout -"Scout's Cove"

iloVICTORVtLLE

breeze swayed the tall stems, we hadthe feeling we were suspended on thisflowery sea.Gilias were the blossoms creatingthe mass colorsome with stems overthree feet tallgrowing like plantedgrain. And carpeting the ground be-neath them we found verbena, whiteevening primrose, small golden prim-rose, Baileya, owl clover and larkspur.As we drove on, the car lightsplayed on masses of gently swayingblossoms, adding to the unreal atmos-phere. But the dream became a night-mare when I tried to follow the oldroad across Harper Dry Lake toBlack's Ranch ruins. There had beenheavy rain and runoffs on the lake,and we detoured along streams look-ing for crossings, splashed along mud-dy ruts, and sometimes searched withflashligh t to determine where the roadran. Finally we cut a new road andreached Hinkley. Next trip, to pho-tograph the flower-sea, we found quitea good road around the lake to thecanyon mouth.Principally because of its remark-able petroglyphs, an effort is underwayto make this region a state park. Cer-tainly these historical treasures shouldbe preserved. United support of thegreat mass of rock collectors wouldbe helpful here. Howeverwe areonly too well aware that often thefirst move after establishing such apark, for whatever purpose, is to for-bid rock collecting; and that someconservation leaders have been par-ticularly outspoken against rock col-lectors.Perhaps in the future these groupswill reach an understanding, and unitein true and effective conservation ofthe many features of our desert wilder-ness which desperately need defense.In the meantime, certainly we canagree with the spirit of the sign postedin Black Canyon by the ArcheologicalSurvey Association of Southern Cali-fornia :"This is Black Canyon, a veryspecial and beautiful part of South-ern California. Three cultures of In-dians have l ived here: One very oldwith primitive tools; another not asold; the last may have known thefirst Spaniards. They all have lefttheir drawings on these walls . . ."They are fascinating to study. Donot chalk them. Color or ordinaryfilm will show more than your eyecan see, especially in the morningor afternoon."Do not shoot the wild burTos ortake home turtles live in peacewith this extraordinary place. It isfilled with charming ghosts and hasbrighter stars than other canyons.Ask the old homesteaders who livedhere.



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Old Fort DavisIn 1928 . . .Arnolds Park, IowaDesert:I recognized the photograph of FortDavis in my July Desert Magazine themoment I saw it.Thirty years agoin 1928anotherlocksmith and I drove up to the oldfort, and I took a picture of much thesame scene that appeared in the mag-azine. Com paring the two, 1 can seethere has not been much restorationwork done on the buildings.I still travel with my work, andhave chances to see many interestingthings. WAYNE VADER Vandals Wreck Corn Springs . . .Aztec Well nearDesert Center, CaliforniaDesert:Those who love beauty would hangtheir heads in shame if they could seeCorn Springs today. Vandals havedisgraced the earth. They have usedthe well for an outhouse; carved andcut the nearby trees; strewn tin cans;shot the wildlife watering trough fullof holes (we at Aztec Well are haulingwater to Corn Springs in barrels forthe wildlife); and in complete disre-spect for "no hunting" signs, havekilled or crippled many little birds.

The people who do these thingsshould live on our desert, and learnhow important our birds are to ushow trusting and pleasant they are.Perhaps desert dwellers should followthese offenders to their homes, shoottheir pets, and despoil their frontyards.Wildlife is so scarce in this canyon,the area should be made into a pre-serve. MRS. WILLIAM C. SEIDEL More Snakes Than You Think . . .Winterhaven, CaliforniaDesert:I have wandered over the ColoradoDesert for 50 years, and have seen alot of rattlesnakesboth sidewindersand diamondbacks in that time.While I agree with your editorial com-ment {Desert, June '58) that many

areas probably have more rattlesnakesthan the desert, I feel we shouldn'tgive the newcomer the idea that rattle-snakes are accidental out here.I doubt if there is a mountain rangeor a valley in Imperial or the desertend of Riverside county where Ihave n't seen rattlesnakes. Our recent10-year drouth was hard on the snakesas well as on all other forms of life,but I have evidence that some of thesnakes survived: this afternoon on themesa west of Winterhaven I killed afour-foot rattler, and last week afriend's dog died from a rattlesnake

bite.

I am sure that after one of oursummer rains a close observer whosavvys rattlesnakes can go into thedesert and find where rattlesnakes havebeen if he can't locate the actualsnakes.Rattlesnakes are timid creatures.They know predators are on the prowl,both on the ground and in the air,and they stay under cover most of thetime. They never travel over hotground, and if one thinks it is unseen,it won 't bother you. If you see thesnake first you have the best of theencoun ter. My advice is to kill it.ED ROCHESTERA Popular Desert Drink . . .Tucson, ArizonaDesert:1 greatly enjoyed the article, "Edi-ble Plants That Grow Along the Des-ert Trails" by Dr. Edmund C. Jaeger(Desert, August, 1958).

Ephedra or Mormon Tea, aside frombeing a refreshing stimulant, enjoysconsiderable use as a diuretic.The popularity of this plant is evi-denced by the host of synonyms andappellations showered upon it: team-ster's tea, squaw tea, Brigham tea,Canatillo, popotillo, tepopote, jointfir,jointpine, shrubby horsetail, Mexicantea, and desert tea. One may call it byany name they wish; it will still havethe same desert flavor.

HUGH B. SLOAN

The meaningful essay, "Silence the Desert's Most Precious Gift," isthe work of Eleanor Nadeau Fowlerof Kimberly, Idaho. Mother of threesons, active in church and communitywork, and an avid gardener, Mrs.Fowler has written mainly for familymagazines. Her specialty is humoroussituations incidental to raising boys.She also has written many inspirationalarticles for religious magazines,

* *

With LaVon Teeter writing is ahobby it has to be. "I find it a fulltime job to be wife, mother and chauf-feurthe latter occupation taking upmore and more of my time as thechildren grow older." Mr s. Teete r isauthor of this month's "From Puebloto Classroom." Previous Desert arti-cles include "Red Ryder's Creator Is

a Cowboy, Too!" (July '56), and"Land of the Luminaries" (Dec. '55).* * Since May, 1957 when his laststory appeared in Desert Magazinepopular desert writer Harold Weightof Twentynine Palms, California, hasbeen a very busy man . In addition tohis regular duties as a local librarian,Weight is working on several magazinefeatureswhich is good news to read-ers. His "Mojave Desert Opal Dig-gings" appears in this issue of Desert."Lucile and I have been concen-trating largely on gathering materialand photographs during the past 18mo nths," he writes. "In our free timewe've gone on about four successfullost mine hunts (successful becausewe got the story and pictures, not be-cause we found any gold !). We alsohave been tracing and photographingthe routes of some early desert expe-ditions. And, we've worked on oldnewspaper files in the California State,Nevada State and San BernardinoCounty libraries, and several others."

* *Lt. Colonel Jack C. Novak of San

Bernardino, California, an outstand-ing photographer (see Pictures of theMonth on back cover), was honoredby the Photographic Society of Amer-ica at its recent annual convention inPhiladelphia. Col. Novak's "The Fas-cinating Desert," a group of 100 colortransparencies and a 30-minute tapedcommentary, won the Society's 1958Photo Essay competition.* * *Well-known Southwestern artist

Amorita Hood, whose paintings bearthe signature, Amor lta, recentlyturned author for Desert Magazine.Her feature story, "Snakes Are HisFriends," appeared in our Septemberissue.She is a native of Colorado whereshe studied art at the Colorado Wom-an's College at Denver. In the ensu-ing years Mrs. Hood has studied andpainted in Western art colonies fromLaguna Beach to Santa Fe. At presentshe resides in Wickenburg, Arizona.Among her most successful oilpaintings is the Hassayampa Riverscene that hangs in the wardroom ofthe U.S.S. Hassayampa.



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HISTORIC PANORAMAS By JOSEF and JOYCE MUENCH

Built on ahillside, once-prosperousJerome overlooks theVerde Valley.

The nation's largest ghost mining"city" has about 250 self-styled "liv-ing ghosts." Organized into a histori-cal society, with membership swelledto over 1000 by sympathetic visitors,they arecertainly making themost ofwhat less vigorous folk might considera bad situation. The town, at 5435feet above sea level, clings to the sideof Mingus Mountain inthe Black Hills.Arizona State Highway 79 windsdown through thenarrow streets over-

looking the vast spread of the VerdeValley past banks, hotels, schoolsand homes which have been slidingdown the steep hillside since 1925when 250 pounds of dynamite wereset off in the Black Pit.Once an important copper miningtown, Jerome is now a tourist center,counting on its past for whatever fu-ture it may have. There are moremuseums than stores, and every resi-dent is a potential storyteller of thetown's raucous past.Old Jerome prospectors Dave Gutierrez, left, and the late Robert S.

"Pop" Clanton.N O V E M B E R , 1958 23


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ON DESERT TRAILS WITH A NATURALIST

Dominant plant of thenorthern deserts is the sagebrusharomaticsymbol of the Southwest's high dry country. And sagebrush doesmore than give unique character to this great spreading land, formanydesert denizens rely on itfor food an d shelter.

By EDMUND C. JAEGER,D.Sc.Curator of PlantsRiverside Municipal MuseumSketches by Morris VanDame7HE GREAT BASIN Desert andits environs is the kingdom ofthe Three-toothed Sage (Arte-misia tridentata), known to manymerely as sagebrush, and to the earlyMexican miners and travelers ascfut-miso hediondo (stinking greasewood)because of its bitter taste and strongpungent turpentinelike odor. In manyparts ofUtah, Nevada, southern Idaho,southwestern Montana, western Colo-rado and the lower mountainous slopesand mesas of bordering states to thewest and south, it is the dominantwoody plant. It even occurs in north-ern Baja California for a hundred milesdown thehigh backbone of the SierraJuarez.Wherever it grows, sagebrush is animportant browse plant, especially inthe great stock raising intermountainplains of Utah, Nevada and westernWyoming where it furnishes nourishing

green food for cattle, sheep and deerwhen the more palatable grasses have

been eaten or are covered with snow.In forests of mixed oak and pine, itascends to the 6000 and 7000-footlevels, and sometimes even to 8000and 10,000 feet.Sagebrush is always a valuable indi-cator of fertile soils andpotential agri-cultural land. It thrives best in looseearth, especially themineral-rich kindsderived from lava. In deep detritalsoils consisting of volcanic ash orbroken-down lava, like those of thehigh deserts of eastern Oregon andsouthern Idaho, this hardy handsomegray-green shrub with extensive rootsystem, sometimes reaches a height of10 to 12 feet, and has tortuous shaggy-barked stems as thick as a man's leg.A horseman riding through such sage-brush thickets can scarcely be seen.But the usual height is much lessnearer two or three feet, and in manyof the monotonous high mesas of Utahand the Red Desert of Wyoming, oftenvisited byhigh winds andwinter bliz-

Sagebrush and Joshua trees.zards, average height may be nearer afoot to 18 inches.Sagebrush areas always are favoritecamping places for mebecause of thesweet pungent smoke of mycampfires.There is almost always plenty of drydeadwood available, andbeing rich inoils it burns with an almost-smokelesshot yellow flame. The fuel's onlyshortcoming is that it is so lightweightand porous it yields no lasting coalssuch as we get from southern deserthardwoods.After rains, the unforgettable cleanherby odor of sagebrush permeates theair for many hours, particularly atnight, often being carried great dis-tances by thewind. Immediately therecomes to mind the pleasure-chargedmemories of outings in this charmingland with its bright blue skies, broadplains andmesas, andencircling juni-per-and-pine-clad slopes.

Three-toothed Sage (so-called be-cause of the usual three "teeth" at theends of thewedge-shaped leaves) wasthe vegetal remedy for many diseases,especially among the Shoshones andPaiutes. In fact, next to Coughroot orIndian Balsam (Leptotaenia multifida),it was diemost commonly used medi-cine. Asa tea, it was taken for colds,24 DESERT MAGAZINE

IN T H E L A ND OF SA G E B R U SH


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Thomas Nuttall's discoveries arecommemorated in the names, Nuttall'sWoodpecker, Nuttall's Poorwil! andNuttall's Magpie, in addition to theplant genus Nuttallia and a small treecalled Nuttall's Dogwood.There are several birds, large andsmall, whose life-histories are directlylinked to Great Basin Sage, amongthem the Sage Sparrow, Sage Thrasher,Black-chinned Sparrow, and the largealmost turkey - sized Sage Grouse,sometimes called the Sage Hen.The Sage Sparrow is a summer visi-tant to the sagebrush country on theopen alkaline plains of northeasternCalifornia and eastern Oregon andWashington, but when autumn comesit moves southward to the deserts ofSouthern California and northwesternMexico. It is a cautious cheery littlesprite often preferring to run ratherthan fly from one bush to another asit seeks to elude you. It has themarked diagnostic habit of nervouslyflipping its tail. Like so many spar-rows, it is a pleasing and persistentsongster, mingling melodic phraseswith both tinkling and squeaky notes.It often builds its nest in sagebrush.

Other sagebrush nesters among thesmall birds are the shy pink-billedgray-headed Black-chinned Sparrowand the small sprightly Gray Vireowith distinctive white eye-ring . Bothare cheerful untiring singers, and

heighten the joy of tramping over sage-brush-covered flats and hillsides.The Sage Thrasher or MountainMocker (Orecscoptes rnontanus) oftenis locally abundant in sagebrush. Ithas the streak-spotted breast of theBrown Thrasher, but the beak isstraight not curved as in several

other thrashers. The gray sagebrushplains of eastern Oregon are its breed-ing grounds and summer hom e. Inautumn, winter and spring it is a fa-miliar visitant to brushy areas of thedeserts of Southern California, south-ern Arizona and New Mexico. Thissmaller-than-robin-sized bird of gen-eral brown color with white spots onthe outer tail feathers, often locatesits bulky nest in sagebrush, utilizingthe stems and leaves in its construc-tion. The three to five eggs are green-ish-blue (almost the color of sage-brush) spotted with brown. One ofits most unique habits is its way ofrunning in a zig-zag course from theshelter of one bush to another whenalarmed. It is an expert at hiding,often baffling the bird watcher. Thesong described by Hoffmann as a"long succession of warbling phraseswith little range of pitch and with con-stant repetition of one accented note,"generally is given as the performer sitsatop a sagebrush or isolated post.The big fast-flying Sage Grouse(Cenlrocercus urophasianus), with d is-

You Are C ordially Invited . . .. . . to visit and enjoy the outstanding exhibit of Southwesternart in the spacious foyers of Desert M agazine's beautiful Puebloalong Highway 111 between Palm Springs and Indio, California.The finest work of more than fifty of the Southwest's best knownartists make up this ever changing display.

Visitors are always welcome at the admission-free DesertMagazine art gallery which is open seven days a week from 9a.m. to 5 p.m.Adjoining the art gallery is the Desert Book and Crafts Shopwhere the best of current Southwestern books are available foryour reading enjoyment. Visitors may browse at will in the rest-ful atmosphere of the gallery and book shop.

"Friend or Stranger, you are welcome here."

tinguishing black-patched belly, is themost conspicuous bird of the sage-brush domain. It feeds largely on theleaves of

195811 desert magazine 1958 november

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