195904 desert magazine 1959 april

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APRIL O N THE DESERT

Most all agree: April is the bestmonth to camp out in the great desert-land. The days are warm, the nightsrefreshing. While this season's wild-flowers will be scant, there are alwayssome blossoms to welcome you to theoutdoors.April is a great travel month. Youwon't want to miss the 32nd presenta-tion of the Ramona Pageant at Hemet,California . . . the big doings at Mesa(First Annual National Sports Jambo-ree) and Tucson (Festival) . . . theTruth or Consequences Fiesta, com-bined this year with a Jeep Derby . . .

ARIZONAApril 1Annual Flower Show, Sunny-slope, Phoenix.April 2-11 3rd Annual ShakespeareFestival, Phoenix.April 2-12 First Annual NationalSports Jamboree; Miniature Paradeon 2; Rawhide Round Up on 2, 3, 4;Music andArts Festival, 5-12. Mesa.April 2-12Tucson Festival. SanXavierFiesta on 3; Square Dance Fandangoon 10;Children's Parade on 11; Fiestade la Placita on 11-12.

April 3-5Arizona Horse Lovers ClubAnnual Horse Show. Phoenix.April 3-5 Dons Club Travelcade toCanyon de Chelly, from Phoenix.April 5Desert Water Show, Phoenix.April 6-26Festival Art Show, Tucson.April 9-11Central Arizona RegionalScience Fair, Tempe.April 11-12University of Arizona col-legiate rodeo, Tucson.April 12Desert Sun Ranchers Rodeo,Wickenburg.April 12Palomino Horse Show, Phoe-nix.April 13-18 Desert Caballeros Ride,Wickenburg.April 18-19Rodeo, Tombstone.April 25-May 1725th Annual JuniorIndian Art Show, Museum of North-ern Arizona, Flagstaff.April 26Arizona State Spring Rodeo,Flagstaff.April 26Art andRose Festival, Tomb-stone.April 28-M^ay 1 Las Damas Trek,Wickenburg.

CALIFORNIAApril 1-523rd Annual Desert Circus,Palm Springs.

1 9 5 9SCENIC FAST WATERFLOAT TRIPS ON THESAN JUAN RIVER, GRANDCANYON, RIVER OF NORETURN, HELL'S CANYON

M e x i c a n H at E x p e d i t i o n sM e x i c a n H a t , U t a h

G L E N C A N Y O N F L O A T AND P O W E R T R I P SM A Y T H R O U G H S E P T E M B E RExplore andphotograph this wonderful canyon,soon to be covered by rising lake water.Mexican Hat'sG L E N C A N V O N B O A T I N G , Inc .WHITE CANYON, UTAH

April 4 Desert Wonderland FlowerShow, Needles.April 4-5Sierra Club rock climb inHidden Valley, Joshua Tree NationalMonument.April 4-5Sierra Club Desert PeaksSection climb of the Granite Moun-tains near Kelso,April 5Women's Riding Club Stam-pede and Rodeo, Blythe.April 11-]2Wildflower Show, Carni-val, Bazaar, Hi Vista (30miles north-east of Lancaster).April 11-12Lilac Show, Palmdale.April 11-12Sierra Club outing to theKelbaker volcanic area.April 11-1524th Annual Women's In-vitational Golf Championship, O'Don-nell, Palm Springs.April 18-19Wildflower Show, Moron-go Valley.

April 18-19, 25-26, May 2-332nd pre-sentation of the Ramona Pageant,Hemet.April 23-26Cotton Carnival, Calexico-Mexicali.April 23-May 3National Orange Show,San Bernardino.April 25-26Desert Wildflower Show,China Lake.April 25-26Sierra Club outing to DeepCanyon near Palm Desert.NEVADAApril 11-12Lions Club Rodeo, BattleMountain.April 12-19World Congress of Flight,Las Vegas.April 18-19Sierra Club Desert PeaksSection climb of Potosi Peak nearLas Vegas.April 23-26Industrial Days, Hender-son.April 23-26Tournament of Champions(Golf), LasVegas.

NEW MEXICOMarch 29-April 1Spring Corn Dancesat SanFelipe, Cochiti and Santo Do-mingo pueblos.April 11State Science Fair, Socorro.April 11-1213th Annual Rabbit Show,Roswell.April 24-26Fiesta and Jeep Derby,Truth or Consequences.UTAHApril 13-17Intercollegiate Rodeo andWestern Week, Ephraim.April 16-18 Spring Festival Days,Price.

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Publisher's NotesI don't know whether the StateDepartment in Washington, D.C., isinterested in this note, but our read-ers may be: during the past monthfour of our five subscriptions goingto Russia were renewed. All weredelinquent by more than a month,indicating that the Russians are not

yet using their Sputniks to try toreach our Circulation Department.The subscriptions go to various bibli-otekas in Moscow, Leningrad, andStalingrad. * * *Closer to home andmore significantthan the Soviet subscription renewalsis the retirement of Randall Hender-son from active participation in theoperation of this magazine. Randallhas beenfor two decades since itsfounding the heart and fiber ofDesert. I can only hope that Randall'schange of station will be a pleasanton e for him, but it leaves your newpublisher in a position of heavy re-sponsibility. The shoes that RandallHenderson steps out of are large,Size 16, at least!* * *Eugene Conrotto, who will takeover as Editor of Desert, grew up incentral California and graduated fromStanford University, but today he isa dedicated desert man. After a news-papering stint inPalmdale, California,on the edge of the Mojave Desert,Gene moved to the Desert Magazine,where he has spent the last four yearsas Associate Editor.* * *Elsewhere in these pages we an-nounce a new program for our Po-etry Departm ent. Hereafter we shalllimit ourselves to one poem a month.We will pay a small honorarium forthe selected verse and we will give ita place of respect. In this way wehope to make the "Poem of theMonth" a selection worthy of everyreader's attention.1 hope that all serious poets whoare inspired by the desert will submittheir works to us, but please enclosestamped return envelopes. Only oneeach month, of the many poems sentus, will stay with us.

CHARLES E. SHELTONPublisher

THECOVER . . .. . . The Castle in Monument Valley,Navajo India ns, with their lovea part of the vivid land-of their reservation. In background,red sandstone buttes make up a

(see Close-Ups) made this photo-

1959

V o l u m e 22 APRIL, 1959 N u m b e r 4CO VERC A L E N D A RREFLECTIONN A T U R EA D V E N T U R EF ICTIO NW A T E RLO ST MINEP O ETRYP UBLIC LANDSEXPERIENCEG H O S T T O W NP H O T O G R A P H YH ISTO RYLETTERSDESERT PRIMERN E W S N O T E STRUE OR F ALSEW I L D F L O W E R SC O O K I N GCLO SE-UP SM I N I N GH O BBYLAP IDARYB O O K SC O M M E N TA D I O SP H O T O G R A P H Y

Nctvajos and the Castle, Monument ValleyBy JOSEF MUENCH

April events on the desert 2Meditation, by CLARA EMILIE MILLER . . . 4The Palm . . . Prince of Desert Plants

By EDMUND C. JAEGER 5Stuck in the Sand, by RANDALL HENDERSON . 8Hard Rock Shorty 10Squaw Spring, by WALTER FORD . . . . 11Lost Silver in the Trigos

By HAROLD O. WEIGHT 12Desert Carpet and other poems 15More Recreation on the Public Domain

By HARRY C. JAMES 16A King Snake and Two Rattlers

By ROY M. YOUNGMAN 18Fort Oio Caliente, by JAMES W. ABARR . . 19The Indian, the Camera, and You

By HENRY P. CHAPMAN 22Old Town, AlbuquerqueBy JOSEF and JOYCE MUENCH . . . . 25Comment from Desert's readers 26Carbon-14dating prehistoric events . . . . 27From the Southwest 28A test of your desert knowledge 29Flowering predictions for April 32Southwest Recipes 33About those who write for Desert 33Current news of desert mines 34Touring Mexico for Minerals

By MARY S. SHAUB 35Amateur Gem. Cutter, by DR. H. C. DAKE . . 40Reviews of Southwestern literature 41Just Between You and Me

By RANDALL HENDERSON 42Randall Henderson Turns a Page 43Grab 'Em! back coverThe Desert Magazine, founded in 1937 by Randall Henderson, is published monthly byDesert Magazine, Inc., Palm Desert, California. Re-entered as second class matter July 17,1948, at the postoffice at Palm Desert, California, under the Act of March 3, 1879. Titleregistered No. 358865 in TJ. S. Patent Office, and contents copyrighted 1959 by DesertMagazine, Inc. Permission to reproduce contents must be secured from the editor in writ ing.CHARLES E. SHELTON, Publisher EUGENE L. CONROTTO, EditorRANDALL HENDERSON, Advisory Editor EVONNE RIDDELL, Circulation ManagerAddress all editorial and circulation correspondence to Desert Magazine, Palm Desert, Calif.Address all advertising correspondence to Clyde A. Osburn, Director of Advertising,Suite 315,7046 Hollywood Blvd., LosAngeles 28, CaliforniaUnsolicited manu scripts and photographs submitted cannot be re turned or acknowledgedunless full return postage is enclosed. Desert Magazine assumes no responsibility for

damage or loss of manuscripts or photographs although due care will be exercised. Sub-scribers should send notice of change of address by the first of the month preceding issue.SUBSCRIPTION KATESOne Year. $4.00 TwoYears $7.00Canadian Subscriptions 25cExtra . Foreign 50c ExtraSubscriptions to Army Personnel Outside U. S. A. Must BeMailed in Conformity WithP. O. D. Order No.19687


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MeditationREST and peace of mind, I took a vacationtrip last year. October found me at Desert HotSprings on California's Colorado Desert. For com-pany I only had my hostess, an understanding friend.From choice, I slept on a cot out of doors. I liked towatch the sky above me before I dropped off to sleep theheavens "so thick with jewels set." I felt as if I could

reach up and almost touch the stars in that clear air.In the stillness, I seemed to feel God's presence allabout me. I understood why the Master had sought com-munion with Him in meditation and prayer in anotherdesert far away.In this stark land, free from the burdens of city life, Ihad time to wonder. How many of God's secrets in thatdark mysterious abyss among the stars were revealed tothe National Geophysical Researchers during the pastmonths? Will the scientists find life on other planets? DidGod, the mighty source of all creation, with His infinityof designs, fashion another planet exactly like ours andpeople it with human beings?Among those billions of stars there could be other

worlds and other beings. But, how far from my cot hasscience risen? We have no conception of what life beyondour planet is like.I found myself agreeing with certain scientists who be-lieve that our world is unique. Everything about our earthis exceptional. The way it is tilted on its axis to cause the

B $ CLARA EMILIE MILLERseasons. Its rotation on its axis that gives us daylight anddarkness. The way it is divided into land and sea. Itsclimate, always at endurable levels. The layer of air be-tween earth and sun that protects us from the too intenseheat of that fiery body. The vegetable organisms that pro-duce oxygen and other ingredients necessary for man'sexistence.

Could it be that other planets were as meticulouslyplanned for the needs and the good of man? Was man, aswe know him, especially created for life on our earth?How was life brought into the world? That is a questionno scientist has ever been able to answer. "When we speakof life itself," said the eminent scientist, D'Arcy W. Thomp-son, "we know that we speak of a great mystery. We seemto have stepped unbidden upon holy ground."As for me, I believe life came into being on earth"through a special creative act on the part of a divinebeing"God.With all the discoveries science is making about theuniverse, my faith grows stronger. These investigationsduring the International Geophysical Year are bringing 61

nations together to benefit mankind in a material way.There are hopeful signs that man's spiritual needs of peaceon earth can be achieved.I had found what I sought in the desertrest and peace,but more important than all: renewed faith in the MasterPlanner, Creator of Heaven and Earth .END

Clara Emilie Miller was born in Houston,Texas, in 1877. Her father was a music andlanguage instructor; her mother died when shewas four. Mrs. Miller graduated from the firstHouston high school in 1897 and was appointeda teacher shortly thereafter.Marriage in 1903 meant a new life in Pitts-burgh, Pa., where three sons were born to her.After the death of their youngest son and themarriage of the two others, the Millers moved toCalifornia where they spent four happy years

together until death claimed her husband. Fiveyears later her eldest son passed away.Mrs. Miller moved to Pasadena where sheattended an evening adult class in creative writingat the city college. Since then she has sold articlesto several magazines. In 1957 she returned toTexas to make her home."I thought my writing career was ended whenI had a stroke followed by a broken hip lastsummer," she wrote after receiving word thatDesert planned to publish her meditation story.But, God has been good to me."


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Vranges are known only to the more adventurous desertwanderers .A few small groups of California fan palms occur onthe Mojave Desert in Joshua Tree National Monument andthe Turtle Mountains near the Colorado River. The T urtleMountain grove is a small but impressive one because of itssetting at the base of a gigantic red-black volcanic plug. In1952 I gathered seeds from these farthest northeast nativeWashingtonias, and now have fine young specimens grow-ing in my garden at Riverside. I planted these palms ofnoble ancestry in a close-set group, as in Nature . I cherishthem as much as I do any of the many desert plants I havegrown from seed gathered by my own hand in remote andhistorically interesting places. And how satisfying it wasto start these plants from seeds!

The only enemies of this splendid palm are a virus(perhaps introduced from abroad), a large bostrychoidbeetle whose larvae bore large galleries in the trunks of old

Palm trees provide anexotic touch to thedesertland scene.Majestic and mysterious,they have been anunfailing source of beautyand inspiration fromearliest Biblical days tothe present. WJiat wearydesert wanderer has notfelt true gladness at thesight of a towering palmin the distance?

or weak trees (Desert, May '56), and man, who sets f ireto the shags of highly inflammable dry leaves which envel-ope the stems. Th e miners and cattlemen of Mex ico seemparticularly given to palm burning. I don't know of onecanyon where palms grow below the border in which thetrees have not been set aflame. Th e great won der to me isthat so many of these palms have continued to flourish.The Indians who visited these palm groves before theMexican occupation of their lands were given to the samepractice , but with better reason. It was their belief th atburning the thatch of dry leaves promoted more abundantfruiting. To them the sm all sweet black berries were avaluable source of food. They not only ate the thin pulp,but ground the cinnamon-brown seeds into a meal, r ich

in oil, protein and starch.The old palm logs so often seen lying in numbers inthe sand washes leading out of palm canyons, especiallyin Baja California, are the remains of burned trees whichdied as a result of this firing. When the blackened trunksfall, flood waters carry them far out on the desert plains.It may take a full century for the elements to reduce themto dust, so resistant is the wood.Among the desert palm's friends are a number of birds.Bluebirds and Cedar waxwings are very fond of the pulpof the fruit. They visit the palm groves on their autum nalmigratory flight. Bullock's orioles and Arizona hoodedorioles attach their bag-shaped palm leaf fiber nests to theunderside of the tree's much-dissected leaves, generallyplacing the nests fairly well back tow ard the base . Sincea new nest is built each year and the old ones are veryresistant to weathering, one may find up to five or six nestson a single palm . Th e brilliantly plumed sweet-singing

Scott's oriole utilizes palm fibers in nest building, but hangsthe nest among the stiff bayonet-like leaves of nearbyyuccas.One might conclude that many small animals use theshaggy shelter of dried palm leaves for a home, but only afew do. Several times I have found white-footed mousenests tucked under the leaves, and in a few instances I haveseen where pack rats were making their homes there. Thelittle brown-shouldered and the scaly lizards hunt insects

on the surface of the dead leaf shroud, and may seekshelter there.The time of flowering of fan palms is late May andJune. The flowers are unisexual, that is, both male andfemale parts are in each small white blossom. After apalm has reached maturity, perhaps after 25 years, flowersare produced annually. Th e long bunches of flowers areborne in panicles up to 10 feet long, the stalks of whichspring from the ornamental crown of large green leaves.At this time there is a small beetle which emerges frompupation to feed on the pollen of the flowers. It is doubtfulif the insect does any harm; in fact, it may aid in the workof cross-fertilization.By midsummer large quantities of the small black ellip-soid berries hang in conspicuous and graceful clusters, thendrop to the ground in the autumn . I think it is the ever-resourceful wide-wandering coyote that is mainly responsi-ble for distribution in the wilds of the native palm . Theyeat the fruits, and the seeds pass through their digestivetracks. I sometimes see coyote droppings filled with palmseeds, often several miles from the palm groves where theanimals fed.In 1883 Dr. Edward Palmer, ardent collector of bothbirds and plants, made a trip into southcentral San DiegoCounty. In his day the International Border was ill-defined,and he inadvertently crossed into Mexico, traveling southfrom Campo to the edge of what in those days was called"Big Canyon in the Cantillas Mo unta ins." The M exicansnamed the place of giant rock walls Acantilados Prominen-tes, and the cattle trail which led into the gorge, Vereda deTajo ("pastora l trail into the go rge "). The present namefor the canyon is Tajo, pronounced tah-ho ("steep cut"or " ravine") .Gaping with awe and wonderment into the gorge beforehim, Dr. Palmer beheld great numbers of palms along thenarrow rocky canyon floor. In the canyon's impressivedepths he discovered two kinds of fan palms, green-leafedWashingtonias, and an unknown blue-leafed species laterdescribed as one of the Blue or Hesper Palms (Erythaeaarmata "armata" for the armature of heavy hookedspines all along the leaf-stems).Blue palms first were found on Guadalupe Island offthe Mexican west coast. They were appropriately giventhe generic name Erythea by Sereno Watson of the GrayHerbarium of Harvard University. Erythea was one of the"Daughters of the Evening or West" in Greek mythology,and as one of the Hesperides dwelt on an island at thewestern edge of the world.The blue palm found by Dr. Palmer is a slow-growingspecies and, in contrast to the Washingtonias, bears flowersand fruit when very small. It may reach a height of 30 or40 feet. Wh en in flower it is a handso me plant, for itsmany gracefully drooping panicles of tiny purplish or cream-colored flowers often are 10 to 12 feet long, widely arching

from tree top to ground. The fruit, the size of small roundplums, is said to be edible. The layer of me at is thin andthe seed very large in proportion to the size of the fruit.This blue palm is very ornamental and has found favor inDESERT MAGAZINE


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many gardens. It is especially suitable for desert plantingsalong parkways.

In the wild the blue palm generally grows singly or insmall groups among Washingtonias which far outnumberit. Blue palms withstand dryness unusually well, their rootsoften clinging to rocks at the edge of canyon walls wherethere is the barest water supply.From arid Baja California and Sonora comes anotherpalm which has been widely planted, especially in California

and Arizona. It is the slender fan palm, so named becauseof its slim tall trunk. The Washingtonia gracilis (gracilismeans slender) is a very fast growing tree, but because itsshag of dry persistent leaves it rather untidy looking andhas a tendency to fall during windstorms, it is not an idealstreet tree. This palm often is erroneously referred to asWashingtonia robusta.

In the desert plains and foothills of Sonora and at thetip of the Baja California peninsula grows another slender-trunked fan palm, Washingtonia sonorae. It differs fromthe slender fan palm in its leaf characters. In Sonora itmay associate with pines in gulches and on damp slopesnear springs of the lower mountains. This mingling always

seems strange, for we think of pines as mountain dwellersand palms as inhabitants of low desert situations.There is no way to determine the age of palms, sincetheir wood shows no annual rings. Instead, there are toughfibers scattered through spongy material in the stout trunk.The noted tree student, George W. Sudworth, tells of twospecimens of Washingtonia filifera var. robusta, the desertfan palm, which were planted by Jesuit Fathers on SanPedro Street in Los Angeles more than 200 years ago.These trees are still nourishing and have reached heights

of 90 to 100 feet, with trunk diameters of three and a halffeet. This trunk thickness of the variety robusta is charac-teristic of older trees. The size diminishes only graduallyat the top near the crown of leaves.Outstanding for majestic beauty is the natural park ofdesert fan palms in Andreas Canyon near Palm Springs.There, under wise and jealous protection of the CahuillaIndians, the trees are allowed to grow unmolested and withtheir neat and handsome petticoats of leaves reaching to theground. It is a sight worth traveling far to see. The DesertProtective Council has had several of its most importantmeetings in this magnificent setting where it is easy tounderstand why palms have been called the Princes of theVegetable World.END

Palm Canyon near Palm Springs, California.


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. . Stuck in th e Sand ...a n d w h a t

t o doa b o u ti t

For those occasional desert drivers who do not have a four-wheel drive veh icle , but who l ike to travel the unpaved byways ,here is some good advice from two veterans of the sandy roads.By RANDALL HENDERSON

ONE April afternoon Iwas rolling down the seven-mile dry arroyo which leadsfrom scenic Guadalupe Canyon to thesmooth floor of the ancient playa, La-guna Salada, in Baja California justsouth of the international border inImperial Valley.There was no road down the wash.It was one of those winding arroyoswhere the art of driving is to keep tothe main course of the channel andavoid the smok e trees. They growthickly in Guadalupe Canyon and adriver must think fast, for it is folly toslow down when driving in heavy sand.This was in the pre-jeep days andmy car was an old Model A Ford withseven and one-half-inch tires. I haddriven up the canyon early in themorning, and after a day of exploringamong the native palm trees and a visitto the hot spring, was on my way backto the port of entry at Mexicali.

StrandedRounding a sharp turn I came upona scene that would have been funnyhad it not been for the tragic expres-sion on the face of the man whosehead projected above the rim of ahuge pit in the middle of the arroyoahead.

The pit had a second occupantan

automo bile. Th e top of the car wasjust about level with the great moundsof sand piled up on each side.Evidently the man had tried to fol-low my tracks up the wash soon afterI had passed that way in the earlymorning. He had become stuck. Hehad no shovel, no axe, no tool or gad-get of any kind that might help extri-cate the heavy car from its sandy berth.His hands were blistered and bleedingfrom pulling the harsh brush. Hisclothes were dripping with perspira-tion and his water supply was nearlygonebut he was game. He had beenexcavating for seven hourswith a tindrinking cup.An Easy JobIt was a simple chore for my outfit,with a shovel, a tow rope and a pairof old Model T running boards which I still carry for traction in thesandto pull in on the downhill sideand yank him out of his dilemma.I have met many tenderfoot driversduring my 48 years on the desert, butthat experience made a more lastingimpression on my mind than the othersbecause I wouldn't have believedthat one man could move that muchsand in a day with a tin cup. I hadtoo much admiration for his grit tocriticize his folly.Fortunately, no one can send a per-

son to jail for getting stuck in thesand. If it was a pen al offense I wouldbe serving life as a habitual criminal.I not only have been mired in thesand so many times my friends haveaccused me of doing it on purpose,but at various times I have been boggeddown in quicksand, in swampy ciena-gas, in snow, mountain streams, inground squirrel colonies, and dry lakesthat were dry only on the surface.Once, as a reporter, I went down intothe delta of the Colorado River andnearly lost my car in an earthquakecrevice which I was trying to straddle on a perfectly hard road. As I pro -ceeded, the crack got too wide for myrunning gear. And up in MonumentValley Harry Goulding and I oncehung up our car in a drift of tumble-weeds.

Some of the experiences were un-pleasant at the timebut I do notregret them now. Out of them I ac-quired a technique, and a philosophy.Philosophy for getting stuck in thesand? Laug h if you wish, but let metell the rest of my story.It not only is no disgrace to haveto dig your car out, but if you'll becheerful about it, it may even be goodfor your health, like a game of golf oran invigorating hike. It is an adven-turenot a catastrophe.In a Rut *It is characteristic of humans to wantlife to go along smoothly with nothingto disrupt our normal way of doingand thinking. We are seeking con-stantly to create a rut for ourselvesa nice comfortable sort of a rut that

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will pay maximum reward for a mini-mum of effort.To the extent that we succeed inachieving this goal we bring about ourown decay. I am not quoting my ownwisdom, but am passing along the con-clusions of Dr. Alexis Carroll, as toldin his book, Man the Unknown.And so, getting stuck in the sandmay be somewhat disconcerting toone's peace of mindbut it may reactas an excellent tonic for your mentaland physical health, if you will acceptthe situation gracefully. Now I amnot suggesting that you rush out tothe nearest dune and deliberately burythe wheels in the sand. But if youdrive these desert byroads long enough,sooner or later you will arrive in thatkind of situation. And if you areone of those cautious drivers who ap-proach the soft places with carefuldeliberation you are much more likelyto get into trouble than if you hit themwith a steady hand and a bold heart.For I am quite sure that old adage "hewho hesitates is lost" was inspired bythe experience of a hesitant driver ona sandy road. Th e moral of all this isthe important rule keep your mo-mentum when driving in sand.Scout AheadBut don't be foolish. If in doubt,park your car on a hard spot andscout ahead on foot to see what theroad is likeand if you decide youcan make it, then tackle it with con-fidence. And d on't put yourself in

the position of having to stop in themiddle of a sand patch to shift gears.I've learned these lessons the hardway. For instance: that time manyyears ago when the sand was deeperthan I thought, and I failed to shiftgears soon enough. Being quite ig-norant of the ways of sand driving Itried to get out by pushing harder onthe accelerator. Tha t merely dug mein deeper.So here I am, out on a lonely deserttrail with two passengers in my car,down to the hubs in sand, and thenearest tow car 12 miles away. Whatam I going to do about it?Well, my first problem is one ofmorale. It is too late to correct myerror. But I can still prove to my com-panions that while I may be a verydumb driver I am a cheerful sort of adumbbell. So I switch off the ignition,swallow my embarrassment and turnto the companion in the seat beside meand grin. I pulled a boner, and thequickest way to make peace with my-self and my party is a full confession

Sand is n ot the only driving hazardin the desert. Photo, right, showsauthor, left, and his traveling com-panion stopped by "dry" lake mud.

of guilt. Th at will be good for mysouland it will put the others in abetter frame of mind for the shovelingand pushing which I may call uponthem to do.They are innocent parties to thisdilemmaand if they want to make afew sarcastic remarks about the bozoat the wheel, that is their privilege.And it is part of the price of mystupidity to accept all comment andsuggestions as becomes a gracefulloser.But the car is still mired down inthe sand while all this psychologicalby-play is going on.Engineering SurveySo I climb out and inspect the com-partment where the shovel and axeand other tools are kept. Then I makea couple of tours of inspection aroundthe car, observing the landscape todetermine the available supplies ofgreasewood, rocks and other proper-ties which may be needed. Havingcompleted my engineering survey ofthe situation, I walk over and sit downon a rock or a sandbank, whatever isavailable. This is important, becauseundue haste, ill-temper or that panickyfeeling of fear are about the pooresttools in the world for getting a miredautomobile out of trouble.Of course if the shovel is missing,then I really am in the doghouse. Anddeserve to be. Among desert folks,getting stuck in the sand is a pardon-able offense. But getting stuck w ithouta shovelwell, that is about the low-est form of stupidity.

Necessary EquipmentNow I don't want all this patter tobe misleading. I merely am tellingyou how I would go about solving myproblem if I were one of those super-men who are never perturbed by any-thingwhich I am not. I have beencaught without a shovelbut not formany years, for I never go anywherenow without those Model-T runningboards in the back of my car. Theyare just as necessary a part of myequipment as the steering wheel, and

For ThoseWho Dr ivet heSandy RoadsVine* Roth, an experienced desert

driver of Yuma, has compiled the follow-ing suggestions for motorists who planto travel the unpaved roads of the desertcountry.PRIOR TO THE TRIPTell someone where you are going,your route, and when you will return.Fill your gas tank with high octane gaso-line. Load up with the following: water,1 gallon per person per day plus fivegallons for radiator; map and compass;note paper and pencil; matches; gloves;extra food and blankets; axe; shovel; jack(bumper jack preferred); tow chain orrope; and tire pump and gauge.D R I V I N G I N S A N D

Keep your tires deflated to 15 poundsor less. Keep front wheels straight. Keepyour momentum. Speed will often getyou through stretches of soft sand. Uselow or second gear in the sandy areas.D IGGING OUT OF SANDDeflate tires to eight-12 pounds or untilthey bulge at the sides. Remove sandfrom in front of tires. Direct front wheelsstraight ahead. Place brush in the moresandy areas of the road. Place someweight over the rear wheels or havesomeone stand on the rear bumper. Rockthe car forward and back until the car ismoving about two-three feet at a time,and drive off, applying power slowlyenough to keep the rear wheels fromspinning.

PRECAUTIONSDo not stop on up-grades or in de-pressions where sand is soft. Do notdrive on salt flats. They often consist ofa thin, hard surface layer over soft mud.Do not drive over woody plants, especi-ally creosote, whose dry wood can punc-ture a tire. Watch out for high centersor rocks which your car cannot clear. D onot fail to keep a record of turnoffs andmileages.

COURTESYRefill holes left after you have dugyou car out of sand. D rive slowly pastparked cars, no one likes a cloud of dust.Stay on the roads or trails where possible,preventing unsightly tracks, broken brushand cacti. Assist anyone who has brokendownyou may need help sometime also.

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they are good substitutes for twoshovels.And now, having completed mymed itation, I go to work. First I letsom e air out of the tires. It is easierto pump them up again later than todo a lot of unnecessary shoveling.With one of those motor pumps whichplug into a sparkplug socket on theengine, pumping up a tire is no longera serious chore.How to ProceedMy engineering survey has told mewhether I should try to go ahead, orback out of my predicament. Alsowhether to jack up the car and putbrush under the wheels, or try to makeit without the jack.

Once before I knew better Itried tying rope on the wheels, likeskid chains. I was up in Barrett Can-yon in the Fish Creek Mountains ofSouthern California looking for a coralreef I had read about. W hen the carmired down I cut my tow rope in twoand carefully wrapped the rear wheelswith it. When I started the motorthose roped wheels immediately startedexcavating a new short-cut route toHong Kong. That night, on the 14-mile hike out to Plaster City to get atow car, I had plenty of time to thinkabout the folly of trying to get out of

soft sand with skid-chains or any oftheir substitutes.In my present predicament I havedecided to make one try to pull outwithout resorting to the jack, so weshovel away the sand in front of thewheels, both rear and front, and gatherwhat brush we can for traction, andstart up the motor. I try to ease outheavy on the gas, and easy on theclutch. If the wheels merely start spin-ning again, then it is time to resort tothe jack. Th e bum per type of jacksimplifies this problem. After you'vehad the experience of trying to findlocal materials for a floor under thejack a time or two you will do whatI learnedcarry a little block of 2x8wood for that emergency.Rocks, Brush

Heft the rear end well up in theair, and rocks, if they are available,are the best base to put under thewheels. And before starting build abrush runway, the longer the better.

I 've been stuck in the sand a thou-sand times without exaggeration and each time it is a somewhat differ-ent problem. I have mentioned therunning boardsbut they are hard tofind nowa days. Some motorists carrystrips of canvas. But they are not toosatisfactory. Gen erally the wheels will

R o c k S b o t t yof Death Valley

"Ain't been no chicken-raisersin Death Valley fer nigh onto 20years ," Hard Rock Shorty wastelling the feed and fertilizersalesman who had stopped at theInferno store."Pisgah Bill tried raisin' 'emonce, but they wuz too manycoyotes around here, an' whatthe coyotes didn't git the windblew away."But even before that last bigwindstorm come along an' thechickens all went w ith it, Bill wuzplumb discouraged. Had to haulall the chicken feed in from Bar-stow, an' by the time them chick-ens wuz big enough to eat theywuz worth their weight in gold.

"What really got Bill's goatwuz when some smart dude camealong an' told Pisgah how hecould save some money on feed-

in' his chickens. 'You do n't haveto give 'em that fancy bran fromthe feed store,' the dude ex-plained. 'Just feed 'em sawdust.The chickens won't know the dif-ference.'"Bill thought it over a couple

of days. 'Don 't mak e sense,' hesays. But he wuz hard up fermoney and he had a couple o 'sacks a sawdust he had broughtover from the sawmill at Inyoto sprinkle on the floor o' theshack to keep the dust down.'I'll feed 'em half an' half,' hefinally decided."Fer awhile the chickensseemed to git along all right, an'then one oP hen started settin'.She hatched out a family allright, but seven of 'em had

wooden legs an' the other fourwuz woodpeckers ."

kick them out of place as soon as themotor is started. Eight or 10-footstrips of wide heavy belting are better.Strips of heavy-m esh wire or chain-linkfencing serve very well. During theyears when he was living on his ranchnear the old Vallecito stage station,Everett Campbell always kept two 10-gallon milk cans of water where hecould load them in his pickup and goout and help a stranded motorist. Wetsand gives much better wheel tractionthan dry sand. Bu t it is not often onemeets a good Samaritan like EverettCampbell.Of course the four-wheel drive carsavailable today make much of thissand technique unnecessary. But evena jeep can get stuck, as I learned onthe Sahara Desert during the last war.We were driving cross-country to awaterhole the Arabs had told me about.The sand was so heavy and the gradeso steep we finally had to abandon thejeep and finish the journey on camels.Later we salvaged the jeep with a 4-wheel drive weapons carrier.Safety FirstOne doesn't have to be a master-mechanic to drive the desert trails.Today there are few places even inthe most remote parts of the desertwhere one is not within walking dis-tance of help. But on long trips it iswell to travel in two-car parties, andof course it goes without saying thatit is important to have plenty of water,food and bedrolls. Thus fortified, the

motorist has nothing to fear duringthe months from October to April.Summer travel on the byroads is an-other ma tter. Inexperienced or poorlyequipped motorists should keep to themain traveled routes in the warm sea-son.As I have suggested, they cannotput you in jail for getting stuck in thesand. An d if you have to spend a fewhours digging out, or waiting for help,the rest of the world probably willstruggle along just as well in your ab-sence. After all, it is just such experi-

ences that mak e life interesting. Theexercise will be good for you, and ifyou take advantage of the opportunityto prove to other members of the partythat you can take it and laugh, you'llbe the gainer by the experience.But I cannot recommend a tin cupas an excavating tool. It' ll be morefun if you have a shovel in the car.

A n d BHiifallelsefails



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U A W S P R I N GBy WALTER FORD

ALL of the prominent old-time watering placeswere on established routes of travel. Some werelocated far off the beaten path, yet their isolationno less important to those who had to dependn them as unfailing sources of water. One such waterholes Squaw Spring, 12 miles east of the confluence of theutheastern Utah.

The name Squaw Spring was derived through the desertndians' custom of leaving their women at a watering placehile they were on hunting or marauding expeditions. Scat-bove the springs, and the numerous fire-blackened cavesand petroglyphs in the adjacent cliffs indicate that a sizablen population once inhabited this area. After the In-from the scene, the spring became aheir livelihood from the pelts of mountain lions, coyotesand wolves which abounded in the region.One of these men was Roy Musselman, an experiencedtrapper who was brought in from Oregon to rid the countryf the notorious outlaw wolf, Big-Foot, whose depredationscost the cattlemen of the San Juan country many thousandsof dollars.

The story of Big-Foot and his capture has become oneof the classics of San Juan campfire lore. For eight yearsthe wolf matched wits with cowboys and professional hunt-ers, killing the fattest beef of a herd almost nightly. Hisrange included that vast section which lies between the SanJuan and Colorado rivers in Utah and the Dolores Riverin Western Colorado.

ont h e t r a i l to U t a h ' s N e e d l e sMusselman arrived in Big-Foot's territory in 1916, butin spite of his long trapping experience it was not until 1920that he was able to bring an end to the wily beast's activities.For this job he needed a special trap. Big-Foot measuredeight feet from nose to tip of tail.When the Scorup Cattle Company moved into the area,Squaw Spring acquired renewed importance because of itsunfailing water supply and close proximity to the outfit'smain headquarters on Indian Creek. More recently, SquawSpring has become an overnight camping place for packtripgroups bound for the rugged land known as the Needles,where the forces of erosion have created a bewilderingforest of stone spires and minarets of every conceivable hue.I camped at Squaw Spring with a group from the 4-M Ranch of Moab. We were enroute to the Needles sec-tion, having traveled from Moab to the Scorup headquarterson Indian Creek by truck, and from there to Squaw Springon horseback. The long dusty ride under the blazingAugust sun quickly emptied our canteens, so it was withundisguised relief that we sighted the little stream of clear

cold water bubbling from the rocks at the bottom of aravine. I noticed a number of jeep tracks around thecamping place near the spring and learned from our guidethat the Scorup foremen now use jeeps instead of horsesto travel between the various ranch outposts. Such isprogress.The Squaw Spring trip is one that should not be under-taken without a guide. While cars can proceed as far asthe Scorup Ranch, jeep travel beyond the ranch can be ahazardous undertaking for one not familiar with thiscountry.END

A group enroute to the Needles sec-tion refill canteens at Squaw Spring.

&

APRIL, 1959 11


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By HAROLD O. WEIGHTMap by Norton Allen

MINE should be enough forany man to lose in a lifetime.John Nummel lost two. OldJohn spent half a century foot-pros-pecting the rugged and beautiful desertmountains bordering the ColoradoRiver in southwestern Arizona hehad time and space enough to findand loseany number of ledges in aland that has produced fabulous goldand silver bonanzas.

Nummel's first tantalizing glimpseof "the big one" came around 1900,when he discovered a ledge of yellowquartz and gold near a foot-trail be-tween the Red Cloud and La Fortunamines (Desert, March '56) . His sec-ond big strike came 30 years later,when he found and mislaid rich silvercroppings somewhere between thatsame Red Cloud and the ColoradoRiver.At that time (late '20s or early'30s) Old John was living in a cabinon the river a few miles northwest ofNorton's Landing. Ed Rochester saysJohn's placeknown both as Conger

1 2

John Nummel was a great walkerhe had to be in therugged wilderness of the Lower Colorado River in whichh e lived. It was while walking out from the Red CloudMine (seen above in center background through doorwaya n d windows of abandoned shack) that John struck silver.Point and Nummel's Landingwas 75miles from Yuma "at the end of theworld's worst road."

John's only mechanical transporta-tion over that rough trail was by an-cient worm-drive Model T truck. Sincethe vehicle almost always broke down,John's infrequent expeditions to Yumawere adventures which could take afull week either way. On lucky days,the truck would develop its troublesomewhere opposite old Picacho, about10 miles down the Colorado. ThenJohn could hike to the river and yellacross, and Dick Young, Ed Rochester,Earl Kerr or Clyde Stewart would sailacross and help him get going again.John's cabin was a most satisfactoryhome, from an old prospector's pointof view. A little garden, chickens and

game provided most of his food. Hehad a wind-charger to operate hisradio. Only tobacco, clothing and mis-cellaneous supplies required cash, andthis John earned by acting as care-taker of the shut-down Red CloudMine.Nummel's life in Arizona is en-twined with the old Red Cloud. Hewas there when the big strike wasmade in 1880. A good miner, thoughtoo restless to stay long on any iob,he intermittently worked at the RedCloud during its years of operation,and became caretaker and watchman

when it fell upon unprofitable days.His own lost bonanzas were found onoccasions when he was hiking out fromthe famous old silver camp.The Red Cloud operated a good

L o s t S i l v e r i n t h e T r i g o s


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part of the '80s, and its career endedwith the demonetization of silver,though brief revivals have been at-tempted since. There seems to be nodetailed records of its production. TheRed, Cloud, the nearby Black Rockand a few minor claims in the districtare credited with nearly $600,000 inlead-silver output between 1880 and1889. Old-timers say the large partcame from the Red Cloud, and trueproduction was much higher. Withno real development done in years ,the Red Cloud today is perhaps bestknown to rockhounds, who treasurethe beautiful wulfenite crystals whichare found there.

He Didn't WorryJohn NummePs river cabin was 10miles from the Red Cloud by one ofthe worst sections of that "worst" road,or six miles air-line. Bu t neither thedistance nor the apparent necessity of

being two places at the same timebothered John."In the summer there wasn' t muchfor John to do at the Red Cloud,"Ed Rochester explains "so he com-muted between the mine and his cabinon the river. He almost always walked.John was a great walked. He walkedall over tha t coun try. Ea ch time hewent down to his cabin, he took adifferent route, and always prospectedalong the way."From this habit came the mysteryof John Num meP s lost silver. On onesuch walk home from the Red Cloudhe struck a ledge that promised values.He knocked chunks off and carriedthem to the cabin. There he dumpedthe ore with other pieces that had beenpacked home from time to time whichhe planned to investigateeventually.And there it lav until Walter Riley, along-time friend, came upon it.

It Looks GoodRiley was a prominent figure inYuma and a well-known mining man.He thought the rock looked good, andwith Old John's blessing, took it toYuma for assay.The report more than proved himright. Th e ore was very high gradesilver.When next Riley saw Nummel, hedem anded : "W here did you get thatrock? If there's enough of it, you'vegot a bonanza!"Looking at a piece of the ore, JohnNummel said he remembered the day,the place and the ledge from which hehad gotten the samples.But, he was wrong. The ledge theyinvestigated contained worthless rock.Old John desperately tr ied to remem-ber the route and the plac e. Severalpossibilities came to min d. Eac h onehe walked out. No ne led to the ledge

A P R I L , 1 9 5 9

of the rich silver assay. Finally, sincethere was no other way, he commencedto re-prospect all the land he had cov-ered between the Red Cloud and thecabin. Every wash, every trail, everyroute he remembered taking, ever)' onehe might have taken . He did not findthe ledge.Wide Travels

Unfortunately, the country betweenthe mine and his cabin was not theonly area Nummel prowled during theperiod when he had sampled the ledge.He had been almost everywherethrough the Trigos. He had hikeddown to Castle Dome Landing, andto the river opposite Picacho. He hadtrudged the wild miles of mountainand mesa between the Red Cloud andCibola Valley, far up the river, wherehe had a 40-acre homestead.Ed Rochester, who ran Taylor 'sFerry at Cibola from 1931 to 1933,

recalls many visits from Nummel dur-ing that period. "H e'd always spenda few days fishing. He loved fish, butwas the world's worst fisherman. He'd

sit there at the ferry, catching nothingand just starving for fish until I'dcatch a bunch and cook them and fillhim up. Then he'd hike back to theRed Cloud."Remembering his many wanderings,John Nummel became even more con-fused as to where he had made thatunrecognized strike. He had exploredcountry so empty and broken that nounmarked route through it could everbe retraced exactly.He never saw his silver ledge again.'John Nummel found other things;besides gold and silver in his rovings,perhaps the most remarkable being his"petrified turtles. " ;

John's Turtles"He said they were bigjust likedesert turtles," Clyde Stewart recalls."They were thick through, and hadlegsbut John couldn' t see any heads.

They were solid rock, but he didn'tfind them in rockthey were lyingloose alongside the wash."W hat were they? Stewart has his

DRAPER RAN

TO CIBOLAVALLEY i

r" 5 '. .- .,..= __*. = t ,,,;c '"

IMPERIALCOUNTY

4-S RANCH

13


14/44

idea: "John said he found them ingranite hills, but there must be andes-ite or rhyolite somewhere in that can-yon, and these large geodes in theshape of turtles washed out from it. OldJohn talked about it so much he startedbelieving he had some petrified turtles."

Ed Rochester believes John foundthem in red sandstone. Ed has heard,from sources he believes reliable, thatone was sent to a scientific institutionwhere it was identified as a fossil turtle.Where did John find them? It seemsa legend of a Lost Turtle Mine is inthe making. John did not mislay hisstone turtles his friends agree heknew exactly where they werebut,he was secretive about them. Onceon a trip with Ed Rochester, Johnpromised he would show him "themountains with the turtles." But hewas very old then, and the side excur-sion was never made.

Three Big MinesWhatever the truth of the turtles,there seems no doubt Nummel didstrike rich silver ore. In the SilverDistrict, where three big silver minesthe Clip, the Red Cloud and theBlack Rock were developed, sucha find would be entirely logical. Moreimportantthe old-timers who knewNummel accept his story, though theydiffer as to where his ledge most likelyis located.Jose Alvarado had this to add: "ADutchman who worked at the King of

John Nummel at his cabin.Arizona while I operated the mill therehad a mine between the Red Cloudand Mohave Tanks, going toward Eh-renberg. Native silver. That couldhave been John's ledge.

Plenty of Silver"And the Indians used to bring puresilver in to Castle Dome Landing.Used it for arrowpoints. While I wasat the King an old Yaqui, agambusinocalled Placer Mike, told us: 'If youfellows want silver I will tell you aplace in this country where you canload up all you want.'"Placer Mike was interested onlyin gold, and I was not interested insilver either. It was not worth anything.

He said he found it at the foot of asharp peak. Big vein, black on theoutsidebut it was almost pure silverwhen he broke it."So run the legends in John Nummel'sland.Old John lived at his cabin andhunted his ledge through the 1930s.After he got his pension he moved toLaguna Dam and built a shack whereold prospector friends had congregated.From there he went to the Pioneers'Home at Prescott. He died in 1948.Anyone hankering to hunt John

Nummel's silver today should contem-plate the long and fruitless search hemade. They also had best face thefact that few of us are John Nummels

physically. The country he traversedwith such apparent nonchalance andimpunity is a deadly desert at certaintimes under certain conditions. TheRed Cloud had another caretaker,Walter Nelson, whom I met on a visitin 1955. Less than a month later hewas found dead beside his car whichhad stalled in deep sand five milesdown Red Cloud Wash.It was at the mouth of this samewash, trying to reach the river at Nor-ton's Landing, that I became satisfieda four-wheel-drive station wagon canbecome as thoroughly stuck in sandas a conventional vehicle.

Stuck!Dunes had partially closed themouth of the wash, but a faint trailindicated that a road had once climbedtheir slope to the firm mesa. I madeit half-way up much too far, it

turned out. The car rested on its trans-mission, and by digging out and plac-ing brush under all four wheels, I onlycould back a few inches at a time. Thenthe process had to be repeated. I hadthe exasperating feeling that fourwheels turning under power threw outtwice as much sand and brush as twowould have done.It was mid-May, and the bright sun,the reflective sand and the humid airquickened my fatigue. Rests becamemore frequent. Each time I squatted,panting, in the flimsy shade of the car,my respect grew for Old John Num-mel, who had wrestled an old broken-down truck through this country foryears, who had built road in the sum-mer heat, who had packed suppliesfor miles, regardless of season. Hemay not have grown rich here, butJohn Nummel mastered the land.As I went back to digging outwheels, I gained deep appreciation ofhis fondness for one particular meansof locomotion. Old John knew hiscountry! I resolved that next time

whether it led to a silver ledge or notI'd walk, too.END

14 DESERT MAGAZINE


15/44

By KATHARINE BUOY KEENEYPortland, OregonAcross the cacti covered wasteOf arid sombre grayA spirit speeds and leaves a glowWhere Spring's light footsteps stray.Among the spiny cacti plants

A miracle is born;As myriad of blossoms burstMidst prickly cactus thorn.Rewoven on Spring's magic loomA desert carpet lies abloom.

WONDERBy ANNE VANDER KAMMonrovia, California

I planted brown seeds in the earth,And covered them with soil.Some miracle would give them birth,A spirit there would toil.Unseen by any human eye,Through wondrous alchemy.Soon, green shoots peeping through themold,The sunny sky would see.And now the buds are bursting wide,To fill the eye with bliss.They are indeed, a lovely sight,But the strangest thing, is thisThe seeds I planted tenderly,Were dry, and brown, and dull.The flowers that bloom on each frail stem,Of rainbow hues are full.A man may vainly search and roamThrough all his earthly days,And though he sees earth's wonders fine,This truth, will still amaze!

I SAW THE VULTURES FLYINGBy HELENA A. S MITHGarden Grove, California

Six pairs of wings were gliding in the sky;Their owners seemed to know where crea-tures lie.Six pairs of wings spread dark against theblue;O guide my steps to dying creatures too,That I, in mercy, bind up their many ills,Before six pairs of wings their pleading stills.

A YEAR THAT WASBy PAUL WILHELMThousand Palms, CaliforniaA year that was . . . but whereOr when or how I cannot say.I only know an April dawn,Two grace notes of a feathered song,Lost in the haze of summer noon,Carolled again in autumn dusk . . .A year that was . . . a wild bird's songWhen each mesquite lifts catkins whiteAnd lilies bloomsome silent nightThe wilting wind shrieks through the Pass,But ere we climb the windswept hillGold autumn steals back, and dawnIs lovely still. The bird is back.The early spring is hardly done,Already autumn gold has come.In what sad hour was summer lost?

OIL ON INDIAN RESERVATIONBy SAGEBRUSH STEVELos Angeles, California

At Council meeting of Hopi Tribe,Question came up, they must decideTo grant Oil Company drilling lease,Or, as they were, to dwell in peace?Young buck Hopis, they full of hope,Till old chiefs tell young braves "No Soap""If white man drill our land for oilGood sheep pasture they gonna spoil,We want no white man come around,Hopi now ain' t got much ground."But young braves say "We want the dough,This chance to get good job, you know."Old chiefs say "You buy hot rod,Soon get killed, be under sod."But young bucks decide go to City,Which old chiefs think is great pityYoung braves go earn white man's payLeave old chiefs dream life away.And thus there starts another day.

POETRY CONTESTYou are invited to enter your desert-subjectpoetry in Desert Magazine's monthly contest,to be inaugurated in the May issue. Onlythe winning entry will be published eachmonthall others will be returned immedi-ately after judging takes place (providedstamped self-addressed envelope is included).Poems must be of a desert subject, not morethan 24 lines in length, and previously un-

published. Winning entries will receive $5.Mail to: Poetry Contest, Desert Maga zine,Palm Desert, California.

DESERT SILENCEBy ELLEN REBECCA FENNWashington, IowaOver the greening sagebrushUnder the low mesquiteBeyond the cactus shadow:

Breathes a still retreat.Murmuring to restless tumbleweedWhispering to seeded podPulsing in every creature:The Omnipotence of God.SPRINGTIME ON THE DESERT

By FRANCES PARKER GRAAFAlhambra, CaliforniaIn sight of towering mountains capped withsnow,I stood today where desert lilies grow.And the ocotillo held her blossoms high,Like flaming torches reaching toward thesky.Where fields of poppies and verbena spreadTheir sweet, wild beauty far, while overheadA cloudless sky and air so pure and clear,I reached out for God's handHe seemedso near!

NO SUBSTITUTEBy HELENA RIDGWAY STONESouth Pasadena, CaliforniaThe desert is too far away,So I have brought i t near to me:With twisted thorny catsclaw branchAnd a midget Joshua tree,It looks quite real. Gleam ing sandCarpets the space I've set asideFor cactus, rocks, colored glass,(Where l izards and horned toads nowabide) .

Still, something is missing in this pretense,No matter how I scheme or try:I cannot feign a desert night.Nor topaz stars in a desert sky.A P R I L , 1 9 5 9 15


16/44

The Pepai^^rvf.of .Interior. ha$ adoptee' :v :a \newpol icy i fKai t may

VAIN

By HARRY C. JAMESS THE RESULT of a policyapproved recently by Secre-tary Fred Seaton of the Depart-ment of Interior, the way has beenopened for every community to acquirefrom the public domain a plot of

groundnot to exceed 640 acres inany one yearfor park, recreationalor other public use.This new policy is of special inter-est to the people of the desert for thereason that in all the Southwesternstates there are large areas of unap-propriated public land which, whilenot suitable for agriculture or othercommercial purposes, are readily adap-table for park, playground, picnic, out-door amphitheater and wildlife sanctu-ary use.The opportunity, and the invitation

to local political subdivisions and non-proftt organization to acquire publiclands for recreational purposes was

spelled out in a policy statement pre-pared by Edward Woozley, directorof the Bureau of Land Management,approved by Secretary Seaton, andimmediately made known to all federaldistrict land offices.My first acquaintance with this pro-gram of public land distribution, andof the desir e of lan d office officialsthat local communities make use of it ,recently came when the Desert Pro-tective Council asked me to go to thedistrict office of the Bureau of LandManagement in Los Angeles to gaininformation as to the status of certainpublic lands in California which mightbe acquired for recreational purposes.I made an appointment with NolenF . Keil, acting assistant to the StateSupervisor of Public Lands in Califor-

nia. Keil is a coop erative fellow, an dhe assured me his office and the entireBureau is eager to assist the public and

qualified private agencies in the acqui-sition of public lands for public use.He called my attention to "Title 43Public Lands" which provides that notonly states, but counties, cities andother political subdivisions as well asprivate non-profit organizations mayreceive patent to not more than 640acres in any one calendar year.Two Reservat ionsThere are two qualifications in thedistribution of these lands. The fed-eral government reserves the mineralrights, and the applicants must pay forthe land. How ever, the lands are avail-able at a substantial discount off theappraised value, and since Uncle Samhas not yet become a party to the cur-rent inflation in land prices, the costis but a fraction of the sums beingasked by private owners and real estatesubdividers. Lands already reservedin national parks, national forests and

wildlife refuges are not available.Keil's interest gave me the feelingthat all of us who love the desert shouldbegin making plans to acquire throughthe political subdivisions counties,incorporated cities, school districts andthe various types of improvement dis-trictsof which we are a part, tractsof the public domain for recreationaland cultural purposes before it is toolate.People are moving into the desertfrom both east and west in increasingnumbers, and as towns and cities growlarger, the need for areas beyond thecity limits for outdoor recreation isbecoming more critical.

Set Land AsideIt would be good indeed if everydesert community and every desertschool system could secure publiclands in their common areas to be setaside as desert parks or sanctuarieswherein the natural landscape and itswildlife could be preserv ed. With co-ordinated effort by municipal govern-ments, local school districts, and non-

profit groups concerned with the out-doors, such community sanctuariescould be fairly extensive, and they

ABOUT THE AUTHOR . . .Harry C. lames is Executive Director of the Desert ProtectiveCouncil, of whi ch he wa s one of the founders. Ten years ag o heretired from administrative work as head of the Trailfinders Schoolfor Boys at Altadena, Cal ifornia, and now conducts summer campsfor boys at his Lolomi Lodge in San Jacinto Mountains. He isnat ionally known for his leadership in conservat ion work.



17/44

could prove of invaluable worth to theprograms in conservation and outdooreducation now so generally a part ofthe public school curriculum.If local junior and senior high schooland junior colleges would assume theresponsibility for the care and protec-tion of these community wild areas theresult would be constructive activity

in the biological and geological sciencesand, even more, practical training ingood citizenship.Development in such areas, shouldbe limited, of course, to an absoluteminimum consistent with proper sani-tation. If water could be developedfor the use of wildlife, blinds for theobservation of desert animals could bebuilt in keeping with the desert scene.The widespread public interest in theblind at the Arizona-Sonora Museumnear Tucson indicates how eager peo-ple are to see and to photograph ani-

mals in their natural surroundings.Map FilesKeil and I discussed at some lengthareas which we of the Desert Protec-tive Council are interested in settingaside as state or county parks. Thenhe introduced me to Harry Miwa whotook me down to the map rooms.Miwa seemed to know every sectionon every map in the extensive files.Soon we were poring over the propermaps to learn the present status ofwater holes, palm oases, interestingprehistoric sites, and other details in

which our organization is interested. Icontinued to be impressed by the sin-cere desire of Bureau personnel to behelpful and cooperative in any projectwhich will bring about intelligent andconstructive use of public desert lands.Then we discussed some of the prob-lems that have arisen in the past fewyears in connection with jackrabbithomesteading. Temporarily, the Bu-reau is holding up all subdivision ofareas under the Small Tracts Act inboth Riverside and San Bernardinocounties. This is being done so that

the officials of these two counties canprepare plans for sanitation, flood-con-trol, policing and roads in areas nowunder subdivision. The pressure toopen up additional and very extensivedesert areas is constantly mounting.Furthermore, at the Los Angeles officefrom 250 to 300 applications a monthare being received for "agricultural"landsunder the Desert Lands Act of1877!About 5000 applications for suchlands are now on file in the Los Ange-les office, involving about 1,500,000acres in San Bernardino County. Asfew applicants could properly locatetheir lands they usually call in theservices of locators. These locators

charge their clients from $2 to $10per acre. As most of the applicationsare for 320 acres, the business of alocator can be a remunerative one.Only about five percent of the ap-plications are approved, for most ofthe lands are totally unsuited for agri-culture. Of the applications that havebeen allowed to date about 60 percenthave reverted to desert. Thus, the per-

T i t l e 43Public LandsInterior

Chapter 1 Bureau of LandManagement, Department of In-terior Circular 1880.Part 254Sale, grant or leaseof public lands for recreationaland public purposes.Part 254.2Who May Apply.The following are qualified to

make applications under theact: States; Federal and Stateinstrumentalities and politicalsubdivisions, including coun-ties and municipalities, andnon-profit associations and non-profit corporations.Part 254.4Purpose for whichlands may be acquired. Quali-fied applicants are permitted bythe act to acquire availablelands for use for any publicpurpose for which they areauthorized by their creating

authority to hold lands. Non-profit associations and non-profit corporations are per-mitted, in addition, to acquirelands for use for any recrea-tional purpose consistent withtheir creating authority.Part 254.5 (c) No applicantcan receive, under the act, pat-ent to more than 640 acres inany one calendar year.

sons who secured these lands have notonly lost tidy sums to locators, butthey also have lost considerableamounts of money in improvements.These land locators are not licensedor controlled by the government.Doubtless many of them are personsof integrity who perform useful serv-ices for their clients, but Woozley him-self is the source of the remark that"land locators and filing services haveengaged in land promotional schemesthat, while staying within the letter ofthe law, border on unethical andfraudulent practices."H. R. Hochmuth, Lands Officer ofthe Bureau in Washington, was inCalifornia recently and at that timehe commented: "We see some awfully

sad stories in the mail. All we cantell them is that their contract is withthe individual and not the government,and all we can do is return any mon-eys that have been paid on the purchaseprice."Questionable promotional proced-ures, and the fact that many areastruly suited to development still remainundeveloped add up to abuses thathave multiplied since the Small TractsAct was passed in 1938.Many of the conditions and situa-tions that have developed in Riversideand San Bernardino counties could beproperly met if these counties couldafford adequate police protection forthe areas involved as well as moreadequate inspection to see that codespertaining to construction and sanita-tion are enforced.The Bureau of Land Managementalso stands ready to accede to requests

that lands be set aside in small tractsubdivisions for school and park pur-poses. This has been done in the tractin Johnson Valley in San BernardinoCounty.Land Reverts Back

I also learned that public lands nowunder control of the armed servicesrevert to the Bureau of Land Manage-ment if and when the armed servicesrelinquish them, unless, of course, thelands were previously controlled bysome other department of the govern-ment. Lands that have been contam-inated remain closed when the cost ofde-contaminating them proves greaterthan the appraised value of the land.It would seem that such lands couldbe de-contaminated if their recrea-tional potential warrants it and if Con-gress were willing to appropriatemoney for the purpose.

Considering the areas which havebeen contaminated by the armed serv-ices and which are now posted asclosed to public entry, I cannot helpwondering whether the time is notnow ripe for Congress to undertakean investigation to ascertain if sucha de-contamination program should beundertaken in the public interest.These and many other reflectionsare the result of my visit to the LosAngeles office of the Bureau of LandManagement. Thanks to the gracious-ness and patience of Keil and Miwa, Icame away with the feeling that in theever continuing struggle between thoseAmericans who wduld seize and ex-ploit every acre and resource in ourland for their own gain, and those whowould retain at least a portion of thepublic domain for the recreation andcultural pursuits of all the people, theBureau of Land Management is on theside of the la t ter .END

APRIL, 1959 17


18/44

A King Snake......and Two RattlersBy ROY M. YOUNGMAN

T WAS an ideal day for snakesto be out. Clouds were gatheringacross the western sky, and thethreat of a thunderstorm was carriedby the warm May air. My camp ina wild jungle east of Midway Well onthe California bank of the ColoradoRiver was the last of several I hadmade during a two-week archeologicalresearch stint in this section of thedesert.During this time I had not seen onesnakeand then, in the space of 15

minutes, I saw three. What was evenmore remarkable is that one of thistrio ate the other two!I had been standing by my cartalking to a visitor. When he droveoff, I took one step toward my tent andheard the warning rattle of a snake.Near my feet was a thick two-foot-long Western Diamondback rattler.I backed off, and so did the danger-ous reptile. As it headed under thecanvas floor of my tent, I grabbed aclub in the nearby thickets and killedthe rattler. Then I carried it to a

clearing close by, and left it for thecarrion eaters.After that experience, I decided toinvestigate the camp area to make sureother poisonous snakes were not about.I was particularly wary of the areaaround the luxuriant salt cedar bushesgrowing near my tent, for I remem-bered a friend's warning that rattlersliked the deep shade provided by theseplants.Under the first bush I pushed asidewith my long-handled axe was a secondDiamondback. It was 18 inches long

and much slimmer-bodied than theone that had crawled under my tent.I finished it off with a blow from theblunt end of the axe.As I turned to carry the dead rep-tile to the clearing, I was amazed tosee a third reptile sliding across theground directly toward me. The new-comer was a harmless (to man) three-foot-long black-and-white-banded KingSnake {Lampropeltis getulus califor-niae). Its glossy black bands had justa tinge of blue as they went under thebody.This was an extraordinary new de-velopment, and the only explanationI can offer is that the hungry KingSnake had caught the scent of therattlers. Anyone who has visited a

reptile house in a zoo is familiar withthe strong peculiar odor characteristicof these creatures. The King Snakehas an acute sense of smell whichmakes it an especially skillful trackerof the snakes and small animals uponwhich it feeds. It has cultivated thesetraits for ages, for the King Snake isa ravenous cannibal. It is one of therattlesnake's chief natural enemies.

The sleek King Snake showed nofear of me as I stood holding the axehandle over which the dead rattle-snake was draped. I dropped the rat-tler in front of it, and the bandedsnake looked up at me much as atame puppy might have done, seem-ingly to say: "Do you really mean Ican have this choice young rattler?"In order not to disturb the King

The rattlesnake is manythings to many creatures, but tothe King Snake, rattlersespe-cially the young ones arefood. Here is educator Roy M.Youngman's firsthand accountof a King Snake devouring tworattlesnakes in one afternoon.

Snake, and being anxious to observeits reaction to this situation, I slowlyand quietly walked over to my carand sat on the fender.The King Snake immediately beganan instinctive circling process aroundthe rattler. He maintained, I thought,what would have been a safe distancehad the rattler been alive. After mov-ing around the Diamondback severaltimes, the King Snake turned away.But, this was a guise. Just as I wasbeginning to think it had lost interestin the dead rattlerthe same impres-sion it would have wanted to createin a live rattler to throw it off guardthe King Snake made a lightning-fast stab at its prey. In a flash, it threwitself over backward and clamped itsjaws across the rattler's neck.

With quick fluid muscular rhythm,coils of its striped body were thrown

around the rattler. In seconds it hadformed a tight knot-like cylinder aboutthe size and form of a quart measurethe rattler's head buried securelyin the upper center of this knottedmass, and the tails of both reptilesprotruded from the bottom.Only then did the King Snakeslacken its pace. Slowly now, it moved

the upper part of its body to free itsjaws from the rattler, and then tooka new hold with its teeth. This wasrepeated several times, but before eachbite the King Snake carefully exam-ined its new target.This tense action had gone on fora half hour in the sun, when the KingSnake uncoiled, grasped the smallsnake in the middle, and pulled it intothe shade of my car. I got down onmy stomach to continue the observa-tion.The King Snake threw two coilsaround the rattlesnake, and bit intoits head. It must have struck a fangor some bad-tasting substance, for itsreaction was not unlike a human's whohas bitten into a rotten apple. Next,the King Snake demonstrated a bit ofreasoning power. Instead of taking anew hold of the rattler's head, itgrasped the prey in the middle, doubledit up, and easily swallowed it.The size of the King Snake hadhardly increased at all, despite theample meal. It immediately beganlooking for a place to retire where itcould digest its meal in peace. Itstarted off in the direction of the clear-ing where I had deposited the largerrattlesnake. I walked ahead, and whenthe King Snake came nearer, I threwthe rattler in front of it. But, the KingSnake was wary of me by now, andall of its attention was directed myway. A second toss of the rattlercaught its eye.This glutton apparently could notresist further satisfaction of its appe-tite. The Diamondback, lying on itsside, was obviously dead, so the KingSnake cut the procedure short. Itseized the rattler by the neck, backedup until its prey was drawn into astraight line, and then began swallow-ing it head first.The King Snake's jaws worked therattler down into its body inch by inch.The swallowing process proceded moreand more slowly, and after two hoursthree inches of the Diamondback's tailand rattles stuck out of the KingSnake's gaping mouth.Returning to the clearing at sun-

down, I found that the King Snakehad disappeared after regurgitating thelarger snake. A meal of two rattle-snakes, the King Snake found, wasone too many.ENDDESERT MAGAZINE


19/44

The Apache policemen hid in the adobe buildings, and whenGeronimo entered the parade ground he fell into their trap . . .

By JAMES W. ABARRNEARLY has forgot-ten out-of-the-way Fort OjoCaliente, a small frontier Armypost and Indian agency in the moun-tains of southwest New Mexico. Mywife, Carol, and I recently visited thisplace where, in the spring of 1877, thewily Geronimo was outwitted by abold, young and resourceful IndianAgent, John Glum. Here at Ojo Cali-

ente, for the first and only time in hiscareer, the Chiricahua raider was cap-tured and clamped in chains.Virtual obscurity has been OjoCaliente's fate, and today the old fortlies forgotten in its remote mountainvalley setting. Few peo ple visit itsdecaying walls, relics of a turbulentand romantic era.As we drove west on State Road 52into legendary Apache country, weonly had a vague idea of the fort'slocation, for it is not shown on stand-ard highway maps. The back-country

road climbs rapidly out of the RioGrande River Valley into semi-desertcountry. North of us towered the SanMateo Mountains, and due west rosethe rugged escarpment of the BlackRange. Apache LandSun-splashed sage gave way to roll-ing hills. The green of pinyon andscrub pine contrasted sharply withthe red earth. I t was easy to under-stand why the Apache had fought withall his cunning to keep this land.A small canyon carries the roadacross the southern tip of the SanMateos into a broad grassy valleystriped with swift mountain creeks,

F O R T O J O C A L I E N T Eminand dotted with clumps of pine andcedar. We passed ranch houses andgrazing herds. This is cattle country.Eighteen miles beyond the smallsettlement of Winston we stopped thecar and searched the terrain. Our cal-culations told us that Ojo Caliente'sruins lay somewhere nearby.Crumbling Ruins

I trained my field glasses along thedry rocky bed of the Alamosa Riverwhich follows the foothills of the SanMateos. Blending into the tan-coloredmountain ba ckdrop were the crumblingadobe ruins of the fort. W e followeda dim side trail to a point along theriver bed which is within easy walkingdistance of the old garrison, and in10 minutes we were standing on thegrass-grown parade ground, its outlinetraced by faint hum mo cks. Saggingwalls of barracks and other buildingsframed the area on two sides.

In the parade ground stands thesplintered stump of a flag pole. W hatstories could it tell if it could speak?What of the men who once marchedin its shadow? What of the soldierswho came to this frontier outpost toserve the cause of empire?

m , / .

Ojo Caliente was built in 1859 asan advance picket outpost for FortCraig, 50 miles to the east in the RioGrande Valley. In the late 1860s, thefort became the agency headquartersfor the Warm Springs Apache Reser-vation. Federal cavalry, "E" Troop,4th Regiment, and elements of the 15thInfantry Regiment were garrisonedhere from late 1877 to 1882. No rec-ords exist after that year. The g arri-son usually numbered 60 officers andmen, but at one period of heavy In-dian fighting in 1881, over 200 menwere stationed here.

Dangerous Miss ionGeronimo's career almost ended onthis parade ground a decade before hemade his final peace with the hatedwhite eyes. John Clum, probably thebest friend the Apache Nation everhad, was sent to New Mexico Territoryfrom his post at San Carlos to returnGeronimo to the Arizona reservation.The Apache renegade was camped atthe hot springs, three miles above FortOjo Caliente.After a forced march from Arizonawith 100 hand-picked Apache police,Clum baited his trap. He rode into

A P R I L , 1 9 5 9 19


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Ojo Caliente in broad daylight with20 men at his side, aware that Geron-imo's scouts were watching from thehills. Clum wanted the renegades tothink he only had a small force withhim. After making camp, Clum senta demand to Geronimo that he cometo the fort and surrender.Setting the TrapGeronimo knew no Federal cavalrywas garrisoned at the fort. Hisscoutstold him of Clum's small force. TheApache raider hadover 100warriorsClum's demand to surrender musthave amused him.What Geronimo didn' t know wasthat Clum's remaining 80Apache po-lice had ridden into the fort undercover of darkness and were postedinside the buildings. Clum and hisoriginal 20 lined up on the paradeground and waited.Shortly after dawn, Geronimo came

to silence this little man who made bigdemands. The Chiricahuas fanned outbehind their leader andboldly walkedto within a few yards of Clum. Thepainted warriors halted and waitedfor their chief's signal to wipe out thelittle band before them.Clum again called for Geronimo'ssurrende r. Twen ty rifles were leveledat the chief's heart. At Clum's signalth e 80 reserves swept from their hid-

ing places and encircled the paradeground. Therenegade band was sur-rounded.Geronimo, knowing he would bethe first to die in any battle that mighthave arisen from this situation, quick-ly surrendered. Within minutes, Clumhad theApache chief and five of hissub-chiefs in chains.Several weeks later in Arizona,Geronimo escaped from hiscell. Dur-ing the next nine years heleft a bloodytrail across the Southwest. It wasn'tuntil 1886 that starvation and sicknessforced him to surrender to GeneralNelson Miles at Skeleton Canyon,Arizona.

Tombstone CareerClum went on to become the firstm a y o r of T o m b s t o n e , A r i z o n a ,founded the famed frontier newspaper,The Tombstone Epitaph, and was astaunch backer of the redoubtableMarshal Wyat t Earp .We moved along the line of crum-bling roofless buildings. The fort hadbeen built after the fashion of anadobe pueblo. Walls were thick andwindows deep set. Straw andearthenbricks used in the walls are fleckedwith bits of pottery. Apparently thebuilding material had come from therefuse heap of an ancient Indianpueblo just west of the fort. In the

crumbling fort ruins wefound numer-ous pieces of black on white potterycharacteristic of the Classic Pueblo IIIperiod. This would mak e the old In-dian dwelling about 1000 years old.One mile east of the fort is a rug-ge d boxcanyon with jagged red andblack walls of volcanic origin. Wehiked up the river bed toward thecanyon andcame across a section ofriver bank sprinkled with empty cart-ridge casesold Colt .45 casings madeof copper. They had a type of primerthat hasn't been used for many years ,and we speculated that this could havebeen thefort target range.The ranch home of Mrs. EugeneRamsey is situated a mile south of thefort. Mrs.Ramsey has lived in thisarea since 1914, theyear her parentscame here from Oklahoma bycoveredwagon. She told us about OjoCali-ente's later years.Dance HallWhile the fort deteriorated rapidlyafter itwas abandoned in 1882, severalrooms were repaired and used by fam-ilies for living quarters in the early1900s. By the 1920s these people hadleft, and Ojo Caliente became theval-ley's social center. Ran chers wouldgather from a wide area for weeklysquare dances at the fort."W e had some wonderful dances,"Mrs . Ramsey recalled. "Folks camefrom miles around. Some of the finestfiddlers of that day were always onhand to play forus ."During depression days of theearly1930s, residents of thevalley strippedlumber from the fort buildings' roofsto repair their homes and ranch build-ings."People didn' t have money to buymaterials in those bleak times," Mrs.Ramsey said. "The old fort was agood source of free lumber."Although Ojo Caliente has been lostto the outside world, people of thisquiet mountain valley have a deep at-tachment for the fort. M rs. Ram seyand her neighbors hope someday it will

be restored and preserved as a state orFederal monument.Chloride's GhostTwo miles off the main-traveledroad at Winston is the abandonedmining town of Chloride. The oldtown's ghostly main street lies in adeep cedar-lined canyon. Theweath-ered buildings anddeserted housessome built in Victorian styleonceteemed with settlers and miners. Heavyweeds and brush have pushed throughslats of sagging picket fences, andwind-driven dust drifts across old side-walks.When Harry Pyle, a freight wagonCarol Abarr is framed by anold Fort OjoCaliente doorway.

DESERT MAGAZINE


21/44

y / .# or\/A::ASocorro

'j^Jjk; 'fj^4yS30S^ii

C Consequences

A G e n e t s l ' s O t d e t s ; An A p a c h e ' s S w e n d e tTwo remarkable documents, one writtenby an Army general, the other by an Apachechief, throw penetrating light on that periodin frontier history when the long strugglebetween Redmen and Whites was resolved

conclusively infavor of the latter.In 1862 the Texas Confederates' foray intoNew Mexico had paved the way for wide-scale Indian depredations. When the Union'sCalifornia Column marched into thestateand found theConfederates had leftthefield. General James Henry Carleton mounteda campaign against theIndians. Soldiersunder his command had these orders:All Indian men of that tribe (MescaleroApache) are to bekil led wheneverandwherever you can f ind them. The womenand children wil l not be harmed, but youwill take them prisoners, and feed them atFort Stanton until you receive other instruc-t ions about them. ]f the Indians send ina flag and desire totreat forpeace, sayto thebearer that when thepeople of

New Mexico were attacked by the Texans,the Mescaleros broke their treaty ofpeace,and murdered innocent people, and ran off

their stock; that now our hands are untied,and you have been sent topunish themfor their treachery and their crimes; thatyou have nopower tomake peace; thatyou are there tokil l them wherever youcan f ind them; that if they beg for peace,their chiefs and twenty of their principalmen must come toSanta Fe tohave atalkthere.

After afew bloody encounters, the fright-ened Indians begged for peace. One of theirchiefs, Cadete, made this speech of surrender:You arestronger than we. Wehavefought you soon g aswe had rifles andpowder; but your>*weapons are better thanours. Give us weapons^^jid turn us loosie,and we wil l f ight yd'u'again; but we areworn out ; wehave nomore heart; wehave no provisions, no means tol ive; yourtroopis areeverywhere; ourspringsandwaterholes areeither occupied or over-looked byyour young men. You havedriven usfrom our last and best strong-ho ld , an d wehave nomore heart. Dowith us as may seem good toyou, but donot forget we are men and braves.

A P R I L , 1959

driver, discovered an outcrop ofsilverore here in1879, it didn't take longfor wealth-seeking miners toturn thiswilderness canyon into aroaring boomtown. Forthree decades Chlorideflourished as new silver strikes inth edistrict added tothe wealth flowingthrough the little town. Vktorio andhis marauding Apaches made the set-tlement a favorite target. Chloridesurvived bandits, gunfighters and In-dians, but perished around the turn ofthe century when thesilver veinsplayed out.

Gold and silver boom days inthevalley are mere memories now. Ranch-ing and lumbering are the main indus-tries today, although afew small scalemining operations continue. Asmallalum mine isbeing worked near thefort, and gold has been taken fromthe foothills, but not in quantity. Muchof the box canyon east ofthe fort hasbeen staked foruranium claims, butno mining has been undertaken.Indian Gold

Ojo Caliente has its share of legendsstories hard toprove ordisprove.One tale concerns Geronimo when hewas aprisoner at the fort. The Apa cheleader reportedly offered to fill aroomwith gold within 24 hours in exchangefor his freedom. This would indicatethe Indians knew of arich mine some-where close by.Years later, an old man came to thevalley. He claimed he had been rearedby Geronimo, hadknown of the

Apache mine, and now had returnedto find it. The old man said the en-trance was under a white rock thatlooked like awhite cow standing inthe brush of ahillside. He searchedfor several years, but never found thelost Apache treasure.Another missing fortune isthatofsix mule-loads of gold buried near thefort by Mexican vaqueros. In the early1800s, so the story goes, the Mexicanswere packing the gold from Sonora toSanta Fe when they were attacked byApaches. After a running battle, the

Mexicans eluded their pursuers andburied the treasure in acanyon. Theyturned the m ules loose a nd fled onfoot.Treasure Map

Only one of the vaqueros reachedSocorro. Before hedied ofwounds,he gave amap of the treasure site to aman named Flores who searched manyyears for the cached gold without suc-cess.In the 1920s, cowboys found sixold Mexican pack saddles in a cavenear the fort. M rs. Ramsey believesa fortune still lies buried inthat cave,a place she has visited several times. END

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22/44

T h e I n d i a n , t h e C a m e r a , a n d Y o uFrom the wizened patriarch to the shy littlegirl, Indians make wonderful subjects for thephoto graph er. Here are some suggestions thatmay result in better Indian pictures for youandbetter understanding of your camera subjects.

By HENRY P. CHAPMAN

SNCE THAT day in 1540 whenCaptain-general Francisco Vas-quez de Coronado first saw aZuni near Ojo Caliente in New Mex-i c o , Indians of the Southwest have fas-cinated visitors to their domain.

Today's explorers of the Southwesthave an advantage over the Spanishconquistadores - they have cameraswith which to make permanent recordsof these encoun ters. Th e urge to clicka shutter as soon as an Indian appearsis irresistible. Ho wev er, mo re than anurge and a camera are required tophotograph a self-respecting Indian.You should be equipped with twoadditional items not found in yourphotographer's gadget-bagconsidera-tion and courtesy. Without them youmay not get any pictures at all, whilewith them you and your camera willbe welcome in any pueblo or reserva-tion.Look at it this way: You would beincensed if a stranger strolled intoyour home, clicked a camera at yourfamily, and then departed without aword. Yet, many people do exactlythat at Indian homes, and think noth-

ing of it.Taking pictures of Indians withouttheir consent is a violation of privacy.The Pueblo Indian, always affable andimbued with a heritage of personal re-straint from centuries of communal liv-ing, will no t comp lain. Neith er will helike it.Seldom is there objection to photo-graphing the outside of hogans, adobebuildings, ruins, kivas, carretas, homosand church es. With individuals, it isa different ma tter. Some will refuseto pose for religious or other personalreasons. They will not explain, andthey expect you to respect their wishes.Cameras are permitted at mostpueblo dances which are open to thepublic. Notable exceptions are theHopi Snake Dances and the SantoDomingo Dance of the Green Corn.The Zunis forbid photography of theirRain Dance and Shalako Ceremonies.There are two general types ofdances performed by SouthwesternPueb lo Indian s. Purpo se of one is

analogous to that of modern socialdancing: enjoyment. Dances of theother category are associated with re-Santo Clara chanters and drummers.22 DESERT MAGAZINE


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ligious rites, and non-Indians arebarred from many of th

195904 desert magazine 1959 april

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