195102 desert magazine 1951 february

8/14/2019 195102 Desert Magazine 1951 February

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FEBRUARY, 1951 35 CENTS


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STORM AT GRAND CANYONBy MILDRED C. TALLANT

Glendale, CaliforniaCrags brushed by racing shadows seemed

to stirWithin the Colorado's wild abyss.Vermilion cliffs receded to a blur

In distance wrought through cloud-sweptartifice,

Then glided forth as for a footlight pause.As sun rays briefly claimed them for a kiss.

With tears the new day sacrificed her cause.In fearful dram a set to rack the sky,Sharp lances unsheathed fire and pierced

through gauzeOf mist, to ricochet and let blades flyAt cadmium walls that flinched before

powerWhich awesome echoes massed to verify.

the

Yet those who hold an inner grace as dower.Know beauty masters might at such an

hour.

GHOST CITYBy CATHERINE WONDERI.Y

Culver City, CaliforniaLittle ghost city, deserted and still,Nestled away at the foot of the hill,Basking in silence, beyond care and strife,Where are the souls that once filled you

with life?Drea ming in peace of a day that is done . . .Little ghost city, your short race is run.

High on the hilltop the little church stands;Once it reached downward with welcoming

hands.Rusted and silent its silvery chime;Dim is the trail where men's feet used to

climb.Never an echo of solacing song.Little gray church, have the years seemed

so long?Little red schoolhouse, where children

trooped in.Gladdening the air with their laughter and

din.Blank and unseeing your windows now

stare,

Filled to the rafters with hopeless despair.Crumbling away 'neath the sun's scorching

beams;Pitiful symbol of unfulfilled dreams.

Tenantless cabins with doors swinging wide,Black caverns dotting the gray mountain

sideTunnels to treasure which men hoped to

gain;Now, but the graves of the: years spent in

vain.Where is the glory you hoped to accrue?Little ghost city, I'm sorry for you.

DESERT SUNSETBy LEROY PRITCHETTLos Angeles, California

The desert sun sets in the west, a goldenball of fire,

A gem from heaven's treasure chest arrayedin new attire.

The painted canyon's colored walls reflectits changing hue,

And place their great enchanted halls onfairyland review.

A reddish gold soon shades the sky whichonce was azure blue;

The work of artists from on high descendsto mortal view.

The dimming sunbeams now give way aspurple shadows fall;

Close to the ridge at first they play thensuddenly grow tall.

With one last beam to kiss the sand,Goodnight 'til dawn. Adieu;The sun is gone to take commandOf other skies of blue.

fBy TANYA SOUTH

Fight bravely on for Truth and Light.They win who never cease to fight,And will not recognize defeat.Whatever bitter Fate or sweetAttack their spirit. Fight! Fight on

Exultant o'er your cause! For TruthLies not in easy Paths nor smooth.But in the high crests won.

By MIRIAM ANDERSONSan Bernardino, California

In April, the primrose scatters itsfragile white petals, like scraps of torntissue over the desert sands. Tightlyjuried, it slumbers through the windsof the mo rning, the still hotness ofnoon, the drowsy lethargy of the full

blown day. When the shadow s of af-ternoon bonnet the mountains withpurple it rouses, and awakening slowlyto the murmur of the yellow floweredgreasewood hush it unfolds in lumin-ous, shell pink whiteness. Dusk is itshour . . . Joyously it throws open thedoors of its heart to the first star. Itprays:

Oh Mother sands, my span is short!Let me give beauty to the night.Let vagrant winds dip to my caress.And carry to the heart of night my tender-

ness.

For light too soon will timidlyReach for the mountain peaks.The light of stars alone is mine, is mine.Dawn, hold back!

Hold back the hungry desert lifeWhose silent tread would crush my heart.And hear my plea. Let me comm une.Wind, sand, and starsa moment more,

with thee.

DESERT VICTORYBy AMY VIAU

Santa Ana, CaliforniaI drank from ocean waters in my dayAnd bore their restless tides upon my breast.But now my sands are bared beneath the

sunIn thirsty stretches reaching to the west.

I hold my hidden secrets silently,Armed with an arid vastness against man;Yet many flowers crest my desert heartWith blooms as fair as those of watered

span.

Beneath night's coolness and a limpid moonThe sage and smoke trees on my bosom glowLike silhouettes of silver in the nightAnd make me lovelier than did sea-flow.

Winds born within my bed, and misty huesRise forceful and full be auteous when I

choose.

SONNETBy LAUREN FISHRedwood City, California

King Lear, wrapped brightly in thy snowysheet.

We stand in awe before thy massive pile;For thou in ages gone hath seen the smileOf limpid blue Lahontan at thy feet.And now in endless reaches gleams the heatOf shimmering sands, wind-blown, mile on

mile.How small the bickerings of kings! How

vileThe pomp of futile wars of men and fleetMust seem to thee whose own immortal

yearHath viewed the boundless white-capped sea

departAnd in its stead the naked sands appear.Vacant and vast. Give us, O God. the heartThat loves; the faith that lives; the toleranceOf mighty Lear; the patience and endurance.

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Black Nuggets in theValley of Phantom Buttes

Pegleg Smith was a trapperone of the Mountain Menwho came into the West 100years ago and grub-stakedtheir explorations with beaver

pelts.

John Mitchell believes that thePegleg Smith lost buttes of theblack nuggets are located near thepoint where the eastern ends of theChuckawalla and Chocolate moun-tains converge, on the north side ofSalton Sea . John is sure they arethere because he once found theplace and brought away three ofthe black nugg ets. But he did notknow until many years later thatthe manganese-coated stones hepicked up were gold. Here is a new

version of the legendary Pegleggold strike.By JOHN D. MITCHELL

Art work by John Hansen

7 HE LOST PEGLEG Smith goldmine with its piles of black goldnuggets is one of the celebratedtraditions of the great Southwest.Much time and money have beenspent and many lives lost in the questfor this fabulously rich gold depositbelieved to be located in the heartof the great California desertthe Sa-

hara of America.For more than a century prospect-ors and adventurers from every partof the civilized world have searchedthese waste lands for some trace ofthe "Lost Valley of the PhantomButtes" from whence came the manyblack gold nuggets brought out of thedesert by the Indians and the fewwhite men who were willing to gambletheir lives against those twin demonsof the desertheat and thirst.

Pegleg Smith, early day trapper,found the deposit while on his way

across the desert to the Spanish settle-ments on the Pacific Coast in the year1829 to market a cargo of furs. Buthe was never able to return to it.

Thomas L. Smith was born in 1801in Garrard County, Kentucky, the sonof Christopher Smith, an Irish immi-grant who fought in the Indian warsof the Northwest under St. Clair. Af-ter varied experiences on the Missis-sippi River, Smith, at the age of 23,joined a caravan of 80 wagons and150 men bound for Santa Fe, NewMexico, to trade with the Indians. Thecaravan fought its way across thegreat plains then swarming with buf-falo and hostile Indians, scaled theRockies and wound down through thesunset canyons and out onto one of

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God's most beautiful stagesthe greatSouthwest. Smith took along severalmule loads of goods for his own use intrading with the Indians.

Shortly after arrival in Santa Fe,young Smith joined another largeparty bound for the Snake and UtahIndian territory. Later this party splitup into smaller companies and Smith

and his men returned to the GrandRiver country in Colorado where theybecame involved with the Indians andSmith was shot in the leg while tryingto bring in the body of a dead com-panion. The heavy arrow shatteredthe bone of his left leg just above theankle. Smith borrowed a butcher knifefrom the camp cook and completedthe job. After the wound had beenbandaged he was placed on a litterbetween two mules and carried 150miles to a Snake Indian village wherethe squaws nursed him back to health.When the stub leg had healed suffici-

ently to enable him to get aroundSmith fashioned himself a wooden legfrom an ash tree. Henceforth he wasknown to his companions and the In-dians as Pegleg.

Here amid snowcapped peaks, tumb-ling waterfalls, quiet lakes and swiftrunning streams the little party huntedwild game, trapped beaver and livedthe life of sturdy pioneers. Pegleg andhis companions trapped the tributariesof the Virgin and the Colorado downto the junction of the Gila, arrivingthere in 1829.

Here, on the site of what later be-came the town of Yuma, Smith andanother trapper named LaRue were in-trusted with the task of taking a muletrain of pelts to the Spanish settle-ments on the Pacific coast. Ahead ofthese men lay one of the most ariddeserts in the American Southwestthe great Salton Sink.

It was into this no man's land thatPegleg and LaRue plunged with 15 or20 pack animals loaded with furs andkegs of water. After flounderingthrough the soft sand for days andmaking dry camps at night, it became

increasingly apparent they wouldnever be able to get out of the desertwith their heavy loads of furs and thesmall amount of water they had left.It was decided to cache half of thefurs in the sand dunes.

Late one evening Smith and LaRuecamped at the base of the ChocolateMountains near three small blackbuttes. To get his bearings and if pos-sible locate some green spot wherewater might be found Smith climbedto the top of the highest butte. On hisway down his attention was attractedby some black pebbles that lay scat-tered over the sides and around thebase of the butte. Picking up severalof them he found they were very

heavy and put some of them in hispocket. Finally they found their wayout through a pass to the northwest andat the foot of a green mountain theyfound cottonwood trees and a goodsupply of spring water.

Upon their arrival in the Spanishsettlements on the cot.st Smith wastold that the black pebbles were solid

gold which in some unknown mannerhad been coated over by nature witha thin film of manganese. After theyhad marketed their first load of fursthey returned to the desert andbrought out the balance and with theproceeds of the combined sales theyproceeded to go on a spree that lastedseveral weeks. After they had beenordered out of the settlement by theSpanish officials they rounded up aherd of horses and mules and headedfor the Bear River country to thenorth.

In 18 48, just before the stampe deof the Argonauts, Pegleg was backagain in the desert searching for thethree black buttes where years beforehe had picked up the black nuggets.Finally he gave up the search and re-turned to San Francisco where he diedin 1866.

During the 85 years which have in-tervened since the death of PeglegSmith the story of his fabulous dis-coverywith many variationshas be-come a legend of the desert country.It became impossible to attribute toone man all the experiences told aboutPegleg Smith, so a second PeglegSmith has been conceived. Many ofthe old prospectors who have spentyears looking for the black nuggetsfirmly believe there were two Peglegsand that both of them actuallyfound the lost butte of the gold nug-gets.

There is still another legend bearingon the Pegleg discovery. The story isthat in the middle of the last centurya white man was guided to the gold byIndians, and he reported the threebuttes were part of the rim of a greatvolcanic crater, and that he was al-

most overcome with gas fumes wellingup from its floor. However, he and hisIndian companion were able to bringout about 50 pounds of the black-coated metal, and eventually received$65,000 for their treasure.

My own connect ion with thisstrange adventure dates back about 25years to the little town of Parker, Ari-zona, on the Colorado river. Some ofthe older inhabitants of the place hadbeen telling me about a large meteorthat had streaked through the nightsky only a few years before, and thatthe vacuum or suction created by itwas so great that it had picked upempty oil barrels on the platform atthe depot in the little town of Vidal,

California, just across the river, andpulled them down the track for severalthousand feet.

A great explosion was heard a fewseconds later and it was believed tohave struck a mountain a few milessouth of Parker.

I was in the vicinity examining gu-ano deposits at the time and decided

to look for the meteorite. Later at Ni-land, California, I was informed byMexicans that the meteorite had fallennorthwest of that place and about 15miles south of Corn Springs. I re-turned to Blythe, California, and pur-chased a mule from a contractor whohad the contract to grade the ap-proaches to the Colorado River bridge.After purchasing a saddle, saddle bagsand some provisions it became noisedaround town that I was headed for theCorn Springs country and was told bysome of the bootleggers that I hadbetter stay away from Corn Springs

as it was headquarters for a toughbootlegger who would shoot on sight.Next day I headed down the road

through Palo Verde Valley and madea dry camp the first night. The follow-ing morning I turned west along theold Bradshaw stage road and thatnight reached Chuckawalla well. I hadjust hobbled the mule and startedsupper on my little campfire when ayoung Mojave Indian and his wifecame into camp. He was mounted onan Indian pony and the girl was walk-ing by his side carrying a small sack ofjerky and pinole. They seemed grate-ful for the opportunity to share myevening meal and rest by the camp-fire. Like most Indians they were un-communicative and I did not pressthem for an answer as to where theywere headed. Next morning afterbreakfast the woman filled the two-gallon canteen, hung it over the hornof the saddle and the man againmounted the horse and prepared todepart. I asked him why his wife didnot ride and he replied, "Oh. she ain'tgot no horse." I watched them withsome apprehension as they passedover the horizon and out of sight. Itwas the last time I ever saw them.

After prospecting for two days inthe vicinity of the desert waterholewithout finding any signs of the mete-orite I decided to head west to theroad that runs from Mecca to Blythe.I left the next morning after an earlybreakfast, rode hard until about 5:00o'clock in the afternoon. My watersupply had dwindled to about one-halfgallon and the mule was showing signsof weariness. I had reached the easternend of a long ridge or hogback.

Both the mule and myself were tiredand thirsty and* while the blacke nedrocks and scorched earth in the im-mediate vicinity did not offer much

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A young Mojave Indian came into camp riding a horse, his wife following behindon foot.

hope, I felt that there must be watersome place in the hills and sat downon a large rock to figure things out.

Presently 1 saw doves and otherbirds flying rapidly toward the south.I knew that birds flying rapidly in astraight line was a likely sign of water

in that direction. I started to followthem and in a short time saw thembreak their flight in mid-air and dropdown toward a break in the dark col-ored rocks. Further investigation dis-closed a narrow crevice about sevenor eight feet wide and 50 or 60 feetlong. A dolorite dike cut across thewest end forming a natural tank in thehard bedrock, full of clear water.There was no broken pottery or anyother signs in the vicinity that wouldindicate the tank was known to Indianor white man.

Not caring to disturb the birds thathad unknowingly led me to their watersupply, I made camp a short distanceaway.

After an early breakfast next morn-

ing, I filled my canteen, watered themule and headed up the long ridgetoward the western horizon. About5:00 o'clock that afternoon I reachedthe summit and then suddenly the topof a small black butte appeared andas I rode forward two smaller ones,one on each side, appeared. All weresetting in a small valley or crater-likedepression which was partly filledwith white sand.

A brisk wind was blowing from thedesert and a great yellow cloud camerolling up from the southe ast. I knewthat we were in for a sand storm andhurriedly led the mule down into thecrater and tied him to the limb of adead ironwood tree that stood near awall of rock. Hardly had I tied himand removed the saddle and bags ofprovisions and stored them under ashelving rock before the storn; wasupon us with all its force.

Sheets of fine sand poured over theedge of the crater like water over awaterfall. The swirling winds swept

the bottom of the crater clean inplaces and piled the sand high inothers. Not until about 4:00 o'clockin the morning did the wind cease toblow, and at daybreak I climbed outof the crater and cooked my break-fast.

Then, climbing the highest butte Ifound it literally covered with blackpebbles, nuggets of brown hematite,and small boulders of white silica, allworn smooth. I picked up three of thestones and put them in my pocket.Later I gathered two small bags ofthem for I wanted to have them as-sayed.

1 continued my search for the mete-oric crater and at 3:00 o'clock thenext afternoon found it. A 300-poundmeteorite was partially buried in thegravel near the pit where the mainmass had struck. I broke off a pieceof it, and headed north through theChuckawalla Mountains toward theold Gruendyke well which I knew laysomewhere northwest of Corn Springs.

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The going was hard, and to spare theanimal I finally cached the two bagsof rocks from the crater, planning toreturn for them later.

Late in the day I reached theBlythe-Mecca road and came upon asmall covered wagon where a tallgrey- haired man was coo king his su p-per of beans. He invited me to havea plate of them, with dutch oven bis-cuits. He said his name was John An-derson and he was trapping coyoteand fox.

Twenty years later I met John An-derson in the Hell Canyon countrynorth of Prescott. He was very old,but he recalled our meeting in theChuckawalla valley.

"Were you looking for the Lost Peg-leg mine?" he asked.

I told him I had been out searchingfor a lost meteorite. This conversationrecalled the three black stones I hadpicked up on that trip. Searching

through my trunk later in the eveningI found one of them. With a light tapof the hammer I broke off the blackcrust, and there was the loveliest goldnugget I have ever seen.

And now at the age of 68 years Iam on my way back to the Coloradodesert. If I do not succeed in findingthe "Lost Valley Of The PhantomButtes," I may at least find the$12,000 or $13,000 in black gold nug-gets that I cached in the ChuckawallaMountains.

As [ recall the black gold deposit,it is another of those rare chimneys thathave always produced so much gold.I saw one from which a fortune in goldnuggets was taken. The Black GoldCrater seems to be another chimneythe top of which has been brokendown by erosion, scattering the blackgold nuggets, pieces of iron and smallpebbles of white silica over the sidesof the butte and around its base. Somechemical process in nature turned thenuggets black by coating them overwith a film of manganese DesertVarnish, the old-timers call it.

With modern transpo rtation I be-

lieve that one could make hurriedtrips in and out of the desert andbring out a large amount of gold fromthis deposit. Provided however, thatthey can locate the lost valley.

Most of the prospectors who havebeen looking for the Lost Pegleg havebeen searching too far south and havebeen following the lines of least re-sistance. It is located in the higher andmore difficult part of the mountainsand can be found only by taking to thehigher ridges and rough places andthen only by accident as it cannot beseen until almost upon it. The buttesappear suddenly and cannot be seenfrom any direction until almost uponthe edge of the crater.

Harry Oliver, Cyria Hendersoi and John H ilton inspect the bronzed statueof P egleg Smith which was awarded by Ray Hetherington to the winner

of the annual Liar's contest in B orrego V alley.

A n n u a l T r e kof t h e L i a r s ,Two prospectors found them-

selves in mid-summer in California'sChuckawalla mountains with twoburros and no water. The waterholes where they e xpected to filltheir canteens were all dry and therewas no moisture for the animals.The situation was desperate.

But just when it appeared thatboth men and animals would suc-cumb to heat and thirst, a bank ofstorm clouds rolled over the moun-tains on the west. Ri.in started tofall but when it hit th e furnace-like atmosphere that hung over theChuckawallas the pellets of waterdried up and only the husks of theraindrops reached the famished menand animals.

The prospectors gathered tenbushels of them in their gold pans,

crushed them between rocks andfinally got two gallons of water outof the husks. And that saved theirlives.

That, in brief, was the tall tale

that won Howard Clark, newspaperwriter of Yucca Valley. California,the championship at the annual Peg-leg Smith Liar's contest in BorregoValley New Year's Eve.

Second prize winner was JoeWright of the Hilton Gem and Artshop. Winner of the women's con-test was Gertrude Ritchie.

Twenty-four contestants from allover the Southwest registered forparticipation in the event, and de-

spite a cold wind and blowing sandthey followed one another on animprovised platform while a crowdof 200 hovered around a big mes-quite wood fire and laughed.

First prize was a miniaturebronzed statue offered by Ray Heth-erington and Cyria Henderson. Mrs.Henderson spent several weeks mod-eling the figure in clay, and Ray,who was the originator of the An-nual Pegleg Trek and Liar's Contestthree years ago, arranged to havereplicas made and bronzed as tro-phies. One of the trophies also wasawarded to Arthur D. McLain,winner of the previous year's contest.

Prizes for second place and in thewomen's division were contributedby Russell Nicoll of Valerie JeanDate Shop, and Knott's Berry Farm.

A half dozen visiting newspapermen and writers who attended thecampfire served as judges in the con-test. The committee in charge,headed by Ray Hetherington, an-nounced that the date of the annualevent may be changed to April 1in order to get away from the un-favorable weather which sometimescomes to the desert around the firstof the year.

Despite freezing te m p e ra tu re s,many of the visitors slept in theirbedrolls near the campfire that nightand on the following day trekkedover the Borrego country wherePegleg Smith's lost nugget-coveredhills are said to be located.

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Members of the Evans familyof Boulder City, Nevada, havecreated both a pleasant way oflife and a profitable small in-dustry by transplanting from theMissouri Ozarks to the South-west desert an ancient craft.Here is the story of how theytransform desert clay and nat-ural pigments into colorful hand-turned pottery, utilizing a skillhanded down for generationsfrom father to son.

T h e y M a k e

P o t te r y o fD e s e r t C la y

By GENE SEGERBLOM

Photographs by Cliff Segerblom

1 walked into the workshop of the Evans family inBoulder City, Nevada, Dorothy

was busy at the potter's wheel, so en-grossed in her work that it was sev-eral seconds before she glanced up.

She was engaged in oneof the oldestof crafts, hand-turning pottery, but theEvans family has combined this an-cient skill with today's flair for theunusual and colorful to build in Boul-der City, Nevada, one of the mostdistinctive small industries in the des-ert Southwest. They create DesertSands pottery. The actual craftsmenof the family are Arthur, his son Fer-rell and his daughter, Dorothy EvansThurston.

The Evans pottery industry beganin the Ozark Mountains of Missourifour generations ago. Hugh Evans,Arthur's father, learned to turn thepotter's wheel from his father-in-law,Tom Simmerman who had broughtthe trade with him when he trekkedWest from Georgia before the Civilwar. He settled at Crowley's Ridge inthe Ozarks in a log house by the sideof the road.

Indians told him where to find thebest clay in the hills and he soon hada thriving business, supplying his neigh-bors with the wares they needed for

Dorothy Evans Thurston turns out a vase on the potter's wheel.

household use. Eventually Hugh Ev-ans taught his skill to his son, Arthur,and the latter, although still active,has trained his son and daughter tocarry on his craftsmanship.

They came to Boulder City because

the hundreds of thousands of visitorswho come to Hoover dam every yearseemed to offer a good market fortheir products.

To make their pottery the Evansesuse ordinary desert clay, and color itwith pigments of minerals mined inthe Arizona and Nevada hillsredsfrom iron ore, grays from manganese,blues from cobalt.

To obtain clay for their colorful pot-tery the Evanses go to various oldmining camps at Chloride, Search-light, and to the Valley of Eire. The

clay must be aerated for at least 30days, longer if possible, and a chemicalis added so it will hold the mineralcolors.

After it is properly aged, the colorpigments are added. Then lumps ofthe different colored clays are weighedto the desired sizes and squeezed orwedged together. The pottery comesfrom the wheel in beautiful blends ofreds, blues, browns and creams, eachwith a different pattern.

The Evanses skillfully throw themulti-colored hunk of clay on a wheelwhich has been in the Evans familyfour generations. The wheel is thesame type used by potters thousandsof years ago, but with a power motoraddedthe only concession they maketo modernity.

Although it looks simple, ArthurEvans says it requires some skill tokeep the spinning wet clay in the cen-ter of the wheel where it must be, ifthe pot is to be symmetrical.

As the wheel revolves, the clay iscoaxed into the desired form by what

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One of the beautifully grained dark and light opalized wood specimens from theWilson Canyon field.

Fossil Wood in Nevada . . .By HAROLD O. WEIGHT

Photographs by the AuthorMap by Norton Allen

7 WARD THE end of the lastcentury in quiet, green MasonValley at the base of the Sing-atse Mountains in Nevada, the "Mes-siah" lived. The "Messiah" was Wo-voka a full-blooded Paiute alsoknown as Jack Wilson, since he hadbeen brought up by David Wilson, apioneer rancher of the valley.

Wovoka was a peace-loving man. Hepreache d a peaceful religion. B ut partof that religion was the Ghost Dance,which swept through the Indian tribes.

In their quest for new fieldsfor the rock collectors, Haroldand Lucile Weight went toYerington, Nevada, where themayor of the town guided theminto a rugged area along theWalker River where ma ny greatlogs of petrified wood may s>tillbe found bulging out of theslopes.

and the creed he taught became dis-torted as it traveled from mouth tomouth among the Indians east of theRocky Mountains. His religion is said

to have been the spark which fired theSioux outbrea kof 1890, bringing aboutthe massacre of Wounded Knee andthe killing of Sitting Bull.

Reportedly, Wovoka was the son ofan earlier Paiute prophet of MasonValley, who died when the boy was14. Brought up by the Wilsons, heapparently mixed their Christian re-ligious beliefs with his own . His lifefollowed normal lines until he reachedhis early thirties. Then one day, ac-cording to the story he told to JamesMooney of the Bureau of Ethnology,the sun diedapparently an eclipseand Wovoka fell asleep in the day-time and was taken up into the otherworld. It was a pleasant place where

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Looking down into the chasm of the Milestone glory hole. Holes on the fur sideare full-sized tunnels. Mason V alley in ba ckground.

all the people who had died werehappy in their old-time sports andoccupations.

The Great Spirit told Wovoka thathe must go back and tell his peoplethey must be good and love one an-other, have no quarreling and live inpeace with the whites. If they worked,and did not lie or steal or fight, intime they would be reunited with theirfriends in the other world. The GhostDance, given him to take back to hispeople, would secure their happinessand hasten the day of reunion.

The first Ghost Dance was held nearthe Walker Lake reservation in 1889,and in a short time 60,000 Indianswere affected, the doctrine havingspread to the Sioux, Kiowa. Chey-enne, Arapaho, Caddo, Washoe, Dig-gers around Mono, California MissionIndians, Pitt River Indians, Hualpai,Chemehuevi, Mojave, Shoshone, Go-shute, Ute and Havasupai.

Wilson Canyon, southwest of Yer-ington, which the West Walker Riverhas cut through the Singatse Moun-tains, was named for th: family thatraised Wovoka. Rock collectors hadtold us about the dark petrified woodfound therebut not one of themmentioned the scenic beauty of thecanyon itself. So Lucile and I werepleasantly surprised when we visitedit last summer. Rockhounds are oftenthat way. They can spot a choice bitof cutting material three canyons away,yet leave with only a vague impressionof the landscape through which theyhunted.

Wilson Canyon would be worthvisiting if there were not a collectingrock in the area. Since it does havepetrified woodand fishing if you areinterestedit becomes a prime attrac-tion. Where else on the desert canyou hunt rocks in the dust of barrenashy volcanic hills until your tongue

is hanging outthen relax and sortyour loot in prepared campsites undergiant cottonwoods beside a rushingmountain stream?

Hallie and Alfred Jones, who oper-ate Jones' Farmhouse a restaurantand rockhound information center atthe junction of Highways 50 and 95,west of Fallonwere responsible forour first visit to the canyon. They hadpromised us good rockhunting thenext time we visited them. And whenLucile, Eva Wilson and I descendedupon them late in July, Hallie alreadyhad contacted Arthur R. Gentry, pros-pector and mining man of Yerington.He had volunteered to guide us tothe petrified wood field.

We were to meet Gentry at Yer-ington. It was a fast easy trip down

paved highway 50, past beautiful La-honta n reservoir. Ab out 18 miles fromthe junction, we turned south from 50onto Highway 95 Alternate, passing

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hrough Wabuska and down green, ir-gated Mason Valley.When we reached Yerington, we

ound that Arthur Gentry's son-in-aw, Bruce Barnum, mayor of theown, had arranged to leave businessnd official duties to help guide us tohe rock field. Yerington, trading cen-er of Mason Valley, is the seat of

yon county. Mason Valley's first in-abitants settled there in 1860, whenhe rush to the silver discoveries at

Aurora was on, taking up rancheswhich they watered from the east andwest branches of the Walker River.

In its infant days, Yerington borehe amazing name of Pizen Switch.

There are many stories as to the or-gin of the name, and Mayor Barnumold us one. During the silver rush,

one fellow didn't wait for buildingsbefore going into business here. Heimply opened a whiskey barrel at the

edge of the sagebrush. As the level inhe barrel fell and he had no way ofeplenishing it, he poured in odds and

ends of whatever was availableevenplug tobacco, some said. Then hestirred the mixture with a sagebrushswitch.

It was such vile stuff that the im-bibers called it "pizen" and the titlePizen Switch gradually became at-tached to the place. When enoughsolid citizens settled near, they changedthe nam e to Greenfield. The n, about1869, the Virginia and Truckee rail-road was built to connect Carson Cityand Virginia City. The Mason Valleyinhabitants wanted the railroad ex-tended to tap their country. H. M.Yerington was an official of the road.They named the town Yerington. Thename stuck, but the railroad was notextended.

Yerington is proud of the attrac-tions it has for mineral collectors.Mayor Bruce was determined to showus as many of them as possible. Beforewe started for Wilson Canyon, hedrove us to the Singatse Mountains,west of town, to visit the dumps ofcopper mines for which Yerington oncewas famous and especially to see thebig glory hole of the Bluestone.

Copper first was discovered in thesemountains at the Ludwig mine in 1865.In some of the claims chalcanthiteor bluestonewas found in quantitiesthat could be mined profitably. Thisore formed the principal output of thearea in the early days, being shippedto Virginia City to furnish the coppersulphate used in amalgamating richsilver ores of the Comstock lode.

After 1907 important companiesbecame interested in the big lowergrade ore bodies below the enrichedoxidized zone. The Southern Pacificrailroad was at Wabuska then, and

15.7 M

WILSON CANYONPETRIFIED WO OD AREA

from it the Nevada Copper Belt rail-road was built to the Ludwig mine,being completed in 1911. Recordsindicate that prior to 1905 about amillion pounds of copper was pro-duced in the district. More a ccuratefigures of the U. S. Geological Surveyfrom 1905 to 1917 show a produc-tion of 61,193,800 pounds of copper,largely from the Bluestone, MasonValley and Douglas-Nevada mines.With exhaustion of better ores, lowcopper prices and increased miningcosts, the big mines closed down. Re -cent diamond drillings reportedly haveshown large reserves, and big scaleoperations are said to be under con-sideration now.

Once the road to the Bluestone wasgood. But through the years the finesand of the mill tailings has formed

/ \ '

many large sand dunes, and a greatdeal of it has blown across the road.When the wheels began to chatter andspin, we left the car and hiked aroundthe curve to the first waste dumps. Inthem were many bright-colored bitsof copper ore. Bruce advised us tokeep climbing, saying that there wasbetter material ahead.

Passing big pits where the ore hadbeen gouged out, he led us through a40-foot tunnel which opened onto astill larger pit. We scrambled up agoat trail and stood, uncertainly bal-anced in the wind, on a narrow ridgeat the edge of the huge glory hole, sobig that full-sized tunnels on the farside looked like mice holes.

We returned to the car, stoppingbriefly to collect specimens of mala-chite, azurite. bornite, chalcanthite

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Collectors on the trail to the petrified wood area, in a tributary of Wilson Canyon.Formation above, right, resembling an Assyrian Mary's little lamb, is a marker

jor the canyon.

and other coppers. The pieces wefound were small, but they make at-tractive cabinet specimens and aremost colorful in dish arrangements.Bruce assured us there were manyother dumps where even better ma-terial was available. Most of thesedumps arc owned by the mining com-panies, but permission to collect onthem has been obtained easily bylegitimate collectors. Those wantingto hunt copper at Yerington shouldcontact Bruce Barnum or ArthurGentry for directions.

Back in Yerington, Mr. and Mrs.Gentry joined the expedition and weset out for Wilson Canyon, with thespeedometer zeroed in the center oftown. We headed south on NevadaHighway 3.

Wilson Canyon, where we enteredit, is a narrow gorge in the mountains,in spots scarcely wide enough for theWest Walker River, a beautiful streamoverhung with the branches of manytrees, which whirls swiftly downtoward Mason Valley. The red andyellow and variegated canyon wallsrose high and sheer on either side. Inplaces blasting has been done to makeroom for the paving beside the river.For this reason, it is said, when en-gineers planned this highway whichgoes through to Wellington and oninto California, they planned a detouraround Wilson Canyon. But onecounty commissioner insisted that thecanyon was too beautiful to remain

inaccessible to visitors, and so the roadwas worked through.

At 15.6 miles from Yerington, thehighway crossed the West Walker ona concrete bridge. On the other bankof the stream is a small campgroundbeside the river at the toot of a tower-ing cliff. In a cleared spot under aspreading cottonwood was a rustictable, stone fireplace and other facili-ties. These, Bruce Barnum explained,had been constructed by service clubmembers of Yerington.

Almost immediately after crossingthe bridge, we left the pavement, fol-lowing clearly marked tracks up alittle draw and stopping not far fromthe pavement. Here we were facing ahigh pale hill to the east.

ROAD LOGWilson Canyon Wood00.0 Yerington. Head south on Ne-

vada State Hwy. 310.5 Road Y. Keep right (West),

and shortly enter mouth ofWilson Canyon.

15.6 Highway crosses West Walkerriver on concrete bridge. Crossbridge, then turn left, into littlevalley at

15.7 Follow rockhound tracks fewhundred yards to end of track.From this point, climb oversandy hills to the east, on foot,on narrow trail. Go down andacross next valley. Wood willbe found in washes and onslopes on eastern side of thisvalley, and reportedly contin-ues eight miles north and east.

"The petrified wood is beyond thathill and across the next canyon,"'Arthur Gentry explained. "A lot hasbeen carried away, but I've prospectedback in there for at least eight miles,and you can find logs scattered along

the whole distance."The hill seemed to be composed of

an ashy volcanic material, and thegoing was rough until we came ontothe faint trail other collectors hadmade. It was steep, but the footingwas firm. When we reached a divide,we found the real pitch-off was onthe eastern side. Bruce pointed acrossthe flat-bottomed wash to odd erodedspires and pinnacles farther east. Thosemarked the boundary of the wood fieldhe said.

The only problem in reaching the

bottom of the wash lay in avoidinga head-first plunge. On the other sidea fairly well marked trail led up alittle canyon tributary into a narrowgorge the mouth of which was markedby a strange bit of erosion that re-minded us of Mary's little lamb. Aswe rounded the corner, we began tosee some of the wood in place. Thefirst sighted, to the right, was blackand in places apparently carbonizedrathe r than silicified. Soon we werelocating numerous chips and chunksin the little dry stream bed.

A great deal of the material in thisWilson Canyon field is suitable onlyfor specimens. But some is agatizedand some opalized largely light



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rown and white or dark brown andwhite and it is beautiful materialither for cabinets or cutting.

There was one big log that Brucewanted me to see. So while the others

ontinued up the narrow gorge, he andscrambled up its steep left slope.

We soon reached a perfect cascade ofetrified wood chips and followed

hem to the huge log he was hunting,log nearly five feet through, whichould be traced on the surface forbout 25 feet.

Leaving the big trunk, we exploredittle side washes, everywhere coming

upon chunks and bits of petrified woodof variou s grades of replacem ent. Inome places the ground was littered

with them, where a log had gone topieces. In a short time, we were loadedwith all that we could convenientlycarry, and so slid down the slope torejoin the others.

In the bottom of the canyon wecame upon Lucile, lugging a splendidpiece of dark brown and white opal-zed wood . It was the smallest of

three that she had discovered, shecomplained, but the others were toobig to haul. Then we saw Arthur Gen-try gesticulating from a long ridge.He was already loaded down with asack of silicified limb sections, but hadlocated more wood on this point.

That was enough collecting for us.We had made all our finds in less thanan hour. Looking at the hill overwhieh we must climb before reachingthe carsa hill which was lookingsteeper and taller every minutewedecided to sort our specimens again.But there proved to be few with whichwe were willing to part.

Reaching the divide was a long,slow process, complicated by muchback-sliding. Since these hardy Ne-vadans had told us the wood was "justover the hill," we had carried nowater. By the time we were on thedowngrade, we were thoroughly de-hydrated. That hill grade probablyexplains why so much petrified woodis still available.

In the pauses for rest while we wereclimbing, Bruce Barnum told us howhe happened to be mayor of Yering-ton. In the war he started as a SeaBee and ended up with the Marineswho stormed ashore on Iwo Jima.Most of the men in his group weredead before the rest were relieved.Returning to civilian work with oneof the big oil companies, he was sentto Yerington. After a few years there,he was told, he would be able to trans-fer to one of the big cities.

At first Bruce and his wife Lillianwaited eagerly for that transfer. Jnthe meantime, Yerington was a nice

i

Arthur R. G entry, miner and prospector of Y erington, leader of the fieldtrip to Wilson Canyon, with a chunk of the opalized woodfound.

place to be in, friendly and peaceful.Then the transfer became less impor-tant, and when the opportunity didcome, Bruce declined, with thanks.

At the cars we packed our petrifiedwood, then spent a little while at thecamp by the river. The restful cool-ness there, the musical purl of thewater, seemed even more wonderfulafter our dusty workout. As we droveback down the canyon, its beauty wasstill more striking with the longershadows and the sharper light of thedescending sun.

I found myself wondering how oftenWovoka, the Paiute "Messiah." hadcome to hunt or fish in Wilson Canyon,beside the sparkling river. Quite fre-quently, I should imagine, for the re-

ligion of peace and lovewhich ap-parently was his true messageoftenis born or strengthened in the quietand beauty of wilderness places.

LIFE IS HARD FORSALTON SEA HUNTERS

Hunters also have their problems.Hundreds of them camp around theshores of Salton Sea during the hunt-

ing seasonhoping the wind will startblowing. The wily ducks and geesewhich flock to the Sea in winter siton the open water out of rangeandremain there until the surface of thelake is churned by strong winds. Whenthat happens the hunters may get ashot.

But when the winter winds blow onthe desert they generally blow coldand often carry a heavy quota of sandwith them. And that makes the waitinghunter very uncomfortable, especiallyin the early morning hours when thebirds are most likely to be on thewing.

It requires a hardy sportsman tohunt on Salton Sea.

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[6

Kate Cory, beloved artist oj Arizona. Photo by Charles Troncy.

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Seven Years With th e HopisLast September when Miss Kate Cory was made an honorary member of

the Yavapai Archeological Society, her membership certificate bore this in-scription:

"Miss Cory, beloved citizen of Prescott, came from the East to discover

the West and remained for seven years with the Hopis. Her paintings, wellknown in Arizona, exhibited in New York and Canada, have portrayed thecustoms and rituals of the Hopis; her writings hav> thrown light upon theireveryday life; and her collection of Hopi artifacts and relics has genuinearcheological interest."

By HAROLD BUTCHER

7 HE WESTBOUND train s toppedat Canon Diablo, Arizona, anda woman passenger came downout of the vestibule. Between her andhe far horizon was only empty space.

"Why, there's no town here!" she

exclaimed to the porter who was help-ing with her baggage.

"I know, ma'am, but this is all theyis at Canon Diablo." While she lookedabout in dismay, George hustled hislittle stool and himself on board andthe train, gathering speed, disappearedin the distance.

That was in 1905 when Kate Cory,now a distinguished Arizona artistliving amid the pine-clad mountainsat Prescott, came from the East tovisit the Hopi Indians. Canon Diablowas the nearest railroad stop to theHopi Mesas.

There was a little trading post at

'This Was the Way" painted by Miss Cory while making her home with theHopi Indians.

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Oraibi, where Kate Cory made her home for seven years. Photo by Harry

James.Canon Diablo, and there she wasgiven a friendly welcome to this landof sage and space. From that time on,life was a never-ending adventure toArtist Kate.

She went to live at Oraibi, oldest ofthe Hopi villages, perched on a rockymesa top, where the Hopis had beenin occupation since about 1150 A.D.She found two rooms on the top floorof an Indian pueblo. It reminded herof a New York apartment in miniature.She had to pay very little for the priv-

ilege, and she was promptly serenadedby two girls, whose sweet primitivesongs made her welcome. She hadbought a return ticket to New York,but the little girls, the friendly HopisHopi means gentlemade her lovethis place, and she never did use theticket. She remained happily in herrented home in Oraibi.

With her paints and brushes aroundher, and the few necessities she hadbrought from the East, Kate Cory leda simple life and became so well ac-quainted with the Hopis that eventu-ally she was invited to become a mem-ber of the tribe; an honor which shedeclined. She picked up enough oftheir language to make herself under-stood. Children brought her presentsof corn and she gave them clothingfrom time to time. Her Hopi land-lady liked to drop in occasionally touse the fireplace for cookin g evi-dently more accustomed to communalliving than private possession butshe never took anything that did notbelong to her, and after awhile MissCory accepted this invasion of herprivacy as just another of the littleways that were different.

In the yearsseven altogether, withtime off for two trips to California andone back Eastthat Miss Cory lived

with the Hopis she learned their cus-toms, which she recorded in photo-graphs and paintings. One ritual thatthrilled her was the great FeatherCeremony, a symbolic rite that takesplace at dawn in greeting to the sun.

In the kivathe sacred undergroundceremonial chamber the feathersfrom turkeys reared especially for thispurpose are strung, each with a fewinches of homespun cord. Then theIndians assemble in ar open courtmen, women and children, and moth-

ers with babies on their backsandhold their ceremonial dance withfeathers fluttering and a generoussprinkling of corn meal as the suncomes over the horizon. Miss Corywas so moved by this ritual that shepainted the scene on canvas.

The Bean Ceremony is another im-pressive ritual. At the proper seasonhundreds of beans are planted in thekivas, kept warm and moist, each manhaving his own thickly planted re-ceptacle. The greenish white sprouts,grown to the length of one's forearm,are carried outside the village for ablessing ceremony. These and somecorn sprouts are held on a tray beforea green-masked figure, with big blackwings, while quietly, one by one, littlechildren come out from their door-ways, reach up with awe, take one ortwo sprouts and return to their homes.The sprouts are treasured by theirparents as a prophecy of the earth'snew life and coming yield. Later inthe day, maidens carrying armfuls ofsprouts march in a remarkable proces-sion, a final appeal ':o the unseenpow ers for fruitfulness of the fields.

Living in the Oraibi pueblo withthe Hopis gave Miss Cory a fine ac-quaintance with their daily life.

"The men would get up early andgo , on foot or riding a burro, to theircorn fields," she said. "They plantedtheir corn where it had the best chanceof water, often 10 or more milesaway. They buried the seed deeperthan is usual in less arid areas so as togive it a better chance of moisture.They had difficulty in protecting thegrowing corn, which was sometimesstolen by Navajos and Utes. Thegentle Hopi people were unable toprevent this so they invited the Tewasof New Mexico to come and live withthem and help protect their fields. TheHopis built the pueblo at Walpi forthem and gave them land to grow theirown crops. The Tewas had their ownlanguage and sometimes a Hopi wom-an could not at first understand theTewa man to whom she was married.However, the children growing up inthe family understood both languages,and then when the government taught

English in the schools, they acquireda third language."Late in the afternoon," Miss Cory

continued, "the wife brought supperto the top of the house, where thefamily ate a meal consisting of stewedbeans and piki. Piki is finely groundcorn made into a thin batter. This isspread on a heated stone to bake. Thebread thus formed is quite palatable,although it may be somewhat gritty.After supper a blanket was spread onthe floor of their home, and there thefamily slept."

Miss Cory learned about the rathercomplicated ritual of marriage. Therewas no such thing as love at first sightand then elopement. The girl was toldby her parents whom she must marry,the selection being limited to certainclans. More recently the old customsare giving way to the white man'screed that young people are entitledto select their own mates.

When a girl was to marry a certainman she would grind a bowlful of cornmeal and carry it, about sunrise, to herprospective mother-in-law. Having ac-cepted the corn meal, the woman tookthe girl to her grinding stones. Shehad to grind for three days. It was thetest of her ability as a housewife.

The unmarried girl's hair-do was"squash blossom" style, similar to thefeminine style in Japan before thatcountry went modern. When marriedthe girl took her hair down, and neverput it up again. One day Miss Corypersuaded a married woman to put upher hair so that she could paint herportrait.

The young woman arrived with abundle under her shawl, and when MisCory had locked the door, she tookout a hairbrush made like a bunch offine broom straws tied in the middle



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Miss Cory's painting of the Hopi Feather Ceremony. P hoto by Charles Troncy.

fine ends for sweeping the floor,butt end for the hairand the U-shaped stick on which the whorls ofhair are wound; also her Hopi dress.

Hair-do arranged and picturesquelycostumed, the Hopi maiden was readyfor her portrait. Miss Cory did a gooddrawing and was all set for the appli-cation of color when some youngsters

peered into the window, making thewoman nervous. The artist shooedthem off, but they returned and ur-gently beckoned the woman to go out-side. When she came back she de-clared: "The wom ans say I must nothave my picture made with my hairlike unmarried girl, and they are veryangry with me. They say if I do nottake it down they will come in and doit themselves."

Fortunately the painting had gonefar enough for completion later, so,without arguing, Miss Cory told the

woman to let her hair down. Thefinished picture is one of the mostattractive in the artist's possession.

The finest tribute that came to Kate

Cory in Hopiland was admission intothe kivas, a privilege rarely grantedto white people, and almost unthink-able in the case of a woman. Herknowledge has been placed at thedisposal of the Smoki People of Pres-cott, white professional and businesspeople, who interpret Indian lore inceremonial dances every August and

regularly stage the Hopi Snake Dance,with which she is intimately acquaintedthrough witnessing it among the Hopis.

In her Prescott home, with its pan-orama of mountains seen through widewindows. Miss Cory has constant re-minders in paintings, photographs andnotes made when she lived in Hopi-land from 1905 to 1912. One of herlarge paintings depicts a band of In-dians traveling across the desert,guided, she believes, by pictographsincised in a rock by other travelerswho had passed before. That picture

she titled, "This Was the W ay,' andit has value in showing the signpostmethod employed by Indians in steer-ing travel in otherwise directionless

wastes. Paintings such as this haveserved to enlarge the white man'sknowledge of the First Americans.They are the outcome of happy yearswith a friendly people.

SHOU LD GR AS S "REPLACEFORESTS OF MESQUITE?

Grass will not flourish on laiidsheavily wooded by mesquite treesand this fact has given rise to a con-troversy among Arizona cattlemen.Some of the stockmen defend themesquite trees on the ground that theyfurnish shade for cattle, and their beansprovide nourishing food in dry yearswhen there is little grass.

Other members of the cattle fra-ternity hold that the range is morevaluable when the trees are removedand the land seeded to grass.

Experts are at work trying to deter-mine the best combination of mesquitetrees and grasses for range purposes.

It is estimated there are 7,000,000acres of mesquite lands in southernArizona, and 8,000,000 acres insouthern New Mexico.

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AboveEstablished as authentic, this Dellenbaugh inscription was carvedin the sandstone wallof on e of the caves along Cave Lakes Canyon.

BelowCave Lakes Canyon in the colorful sandstone country of southernUtah. The town of Kanab gets its water supply from this Canyon.

Dellenbaugh, 1873By WILLIAM H. BEHLEM a p by Norton Allen

T WAS in March of 1946 that Ifirst saw the inscription "F. S.Dellenbaugh, C. R. E., Jan. 25,

1873," on the sandstone wallof a cavein Cave Lakes Canyon, IVi milesfrom Kanab in southern Utah.

I had gone there with four studentsfrom the University of Utah to make asurvey of the bird life in that region.Through the courtesy of BeverlyandMark Hamblin we established campon their ranch in Cave Lakes Canyona half mile from its junction withThree Lakes. Mark Hamblin is agrandson of Jacob Hamblin, Mormon

missionary who played a major rolein the exploration of the Southwestfrom 1850 to 1886.

Cave Lakes Canyon is one of themost interesting places in the area.Unlike other canyonsof the region ithas considerable water, thus support-ing vegetation quite unexpectedin adr y and sandy region.One finds areasof grass, groves of cottonwoods,wil-low-patches along the stream, boxelders and oaks in more shaded areasand even small cattail swampsinplaces. For the most part, the canyonwalls are vertical witha 50 or 100-footdrop from the rim.

At the ranch and for about aneighth of a mile above it, several large,open dome-like caves have beenformed back under the canyon rim.Some are now dry and, with fences

across the front, make natural corralsfor livestock. Others have poolsofclear cool waterin them, dammedup

Frederick Sa m u el D el l en -baugh at the age of 17 was theyoungest memberof Major JohnWesley Powell 's second expe-dition down the Colorado Riverin 1871-72. He served as artistand assistant topographer andin the latter capacity helped A.H. Thompson in preparing thefirst map of the Grand Canyonregion. He afterward becamethe unofficial historian of thePowell expeditions throughhistwo books, "The Romance ofthe Colorado River" (1902)and"A Canyon Voyage" (1908).

by the accumulation of sand at thewide entrances. Mosses appear alongthe damp ledges and aquatic plantsgrow in the water. The water supplyfor Kanab comes from these cavesinCave Lakes Canyon. Many archeo-logical finds have been madein the

caves and round musket balls, prob-ably shot by early Spaniards at In-dians, have been uncovered.

The second dayin camp I wanderedover to one of the caves on the southside of the canyon and noticed thatthe walls at the entrance had many in-scriptions and names carved in thesoft sandstone. They were mostlyofrecent date although displaying vari-ous degrees of erosion and effacementand were evidently made mostlybythe people of the region. The one byDellenbaugh had been well preserved.

To establish the authenticity of thisinscription it seemed necessary toprove that Dellenbaughwas actuallyin the Kanab region on the date given.Evidence thathe was there is found inthe diary of Almon Harris Thompsonpublished by the Utah State HistoricalSociety several years ago. Nothingad-ditional bearing on the inscription isfound in the recently published jour-nals of the various members of thetwo Powell expeditions also appearingin the Utah Historical Quarterly.

Returning to Powell's second expe-dition, following the river trip whichproceeded only as far as the mouthof Kanab Wash in the Grand Canyon,the interval between September1,1872, to June 4, 1873, was spentdo-ing topographic work around Kanab,St. George, Pipe Springand the PariaRiver. Of the 11 men departing fromGreen River, Wyoming, with MajorPowell on May 22, 1871, on theirsecond trip, seven were stillin activeservice near the end of 1872. On No-vember 30, 1872, Major Powell,W.C. Powell, John K. Hillers, StephenV. Jones and Andrew J. Hatten leftKanab for Salt Lake City. Thompsonand Dellenbaugh remained behindtocomplete the work on the first mapof the Grand Canyon region. John

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or Jack Hillers subsequently returnedto Kanab and continued his photo-graphic work. In mid-February of1873 the map was completed and wastaken to Salt Lake City by Dellen-baugh.

Concerning their stay in Kanab,Thompson made the following entryin his diary (Utah Historical Quarterly,vol. 7, 193 9:1 06 ): "Friday, Novem-ber 29th. (The party) At work get-ting ready to move north. Decidedthat I would winter here, keep Fred,and with him and John, make the bestmap I could. Am to pay Fred $400.00when he is through." Dellenbaughwrote: (see foot note page107) "Prof,concludedto make winter headquartersin Kanab and a lot was rented for thepurpose. On December 3rd, we putup a large tent in one corner, withtwosmall ones for rations and saddles.The next day we put up one in theother corner for Prof, and Mrs.Thompson, and at the back of the lotwe arranged a corral for the horses ormules we might want to catch. Thelarge tents were floored with pineboards and along the sides heavy cedarboughs were placedin crotches aroundwhich the guy ropes were passedbe-fore staking. The tents thus weredryinside and could not blow down. Aconical iron stove on a boxing ofearth heated the large tent likea fur-nace. In the middle of the generaltent we placed a long drafting-tableand were ready for work. Anothertent, half boards, was erected near

ours for kitchen and dining-room,andRiley, who had turned up again, hiredas cook and master of this structure.Prof, arranged for a supply of pota-toes, butter, meats, and everythingwithin reason, so we lived very well,with an occasional dashof Dixie wineto add zest."

Neither Thompsonnor Dellenbaughmake specific mentionin their jour-nals of their activitieson January 25,1873, the date of the insignia, butthere can be little doubt that thisis agenuine Dellenbaugh inscription.The

date on the rock was near the time ofcompletion of the map and doubtlessThompson was thinking of his nextproject of extending the topographicsurvey to the surrounding plateauareas. He speaks of Jack starting forMt. Trumbull on January 24th withan Indian. On Sunday, February2nd,he comments "Plotted trailup KanabWash." It may be that Dellenbaughwas doing some exploratory workinthis latter connection while awaitingthe completionof the map so he couldleave for Salt Lake Cityand this worktook him up Cave Lakes Canyon.Orhe may have had a day off and visitedthe area. Two other names are asso-ciated with Dellenbaugh'sas may be

To MT. CARMEL JCT, ZlON & BRYCE

Cave w ith tDellenbaugh's

Name

To PIPE SPRING NATIONAL MONUMENT

seen in the accompanying picture.Fred Haycockwas doubtless a relativeof Joseph Haycock who assisted

Thompson in the activities of 1873 inmapping the country east to the Pariaand westward to the Pine ValleyMountains. 1 have found no mentionof Vin Farnsworth who was probablyfrom Kanab. This latter name seemsto have been carvedin the rock later.

We learned that JohnD. Lee's namewas supposedto be present in the cavebu t we did not find it. It may haveweathered away. After first viewingDellenbaugh's name,we saw it sub-sequently on other trips thereon May11 , 1946, and December 30, 1946.Finally on June 19, 1947, we returnedonce again to photograph the inscrip-tion.

Bearing on the authenticity of the

To JACOB LAKE & CAMERON

inscription, Mrs. Hamblin "recentlywrote me as follows:

"Jesse L. Nusbaum, directorof ar-cheological researchfor the U. S. ParkService in the Southwest, excavatedfor the Heye Foundation one of thecaves on our property in 1920 and1922. The site was of the Basket-Maker Culture and he later wrote amonograph titled A Basket-MakerCave in Kane County, Utah.

"More recentlyMr. Nusbaum visitedour ranch and during his brief stayhere he told me that knowing Mr.Dellenbaugh he often wondered if theinscription he observed here was au-thentic. Before Mr. Dellenbaugh'sdeath he obtained from him a verifi-cation in writing that the inscriptionwas genuine."

F E B R U A R Y , 19 5 1


22/48

DEATHVALLEY

The temperature under the lean-to porch of theInferno store was 122 degrees, but out in the sunthe mercury went to the top of its tube and stoppedat 140 degrees because it could go no higher.

"No, tain't allus hot in Death Valley," HardRock Shorty was saying to the dude prospectors whohad braved the summer heat to come into DeathValley to look for the Lost Breyfogle mine.

"Gits so cold up here some winters we hafta mixthis anti-freeze stuff in our coffee so it won't turnto ice comin' from the stove to the dinin' table.

"We nearly lost Pisgah Bill durin' one o' them

freezin' spells back in '14. Bill wuz minin' up onEight Ball crick that win ter. One night a flock o'geese come in and landed on that little reservoirBill'd dammed up below the spring.

"Next mornin' when Bill went out to water theburros them geese wuz settin' on a pond o' ice. Theycouldn't fly away cause their feet wuz froze in theice. Bill come rushin' back to the cabin. 'Lookin'fer a club ,' he shouted. 'Go nna have goose fer dinne rfer a month.'

"He picked up anoV pick handle an' ran out onthe ice among them geese. But before he could startswingin' they all started flappin' their wings, andnext thing he knew them geese 'd taken off, carryin'tha t big cake o' ice with 'em . The re was Bill rightamo ng 'em, gainin" altitude every minute. They gotup to a thousand feet and headed south. Bill wascold and scared, but he couldn't do nothin' about it.He hung onto a big gander's neck and prayed themgeese'd make a safe landing somewheres.

"They hadn't gone far before them birds spottedthat big pond down at Tecopa Hot Springs and theyheaded for the water with steam coming from thetop of it. They made a good landin'but the icestarted to melt so fast that if Bill hadn't been adarned good swimmer he'd a drowned."

Harold Butcher, who wrote the story of Kate Cory,the artist, for this issue of Desert Magazine is a residentof Prescott, Arizona, where he has been a free lancewriter and radio commentator since 1944.

Harold spent 23 years of his life in New York Citywhere for seven years he was U. S. correspondent for theLon don D aily He rald. But he came west for a fewmonths in 1928-29, and New York was never the sameafter that. It took 15 years of planning, but eventuallyhe realized his dream of a cottage in the Southwest, andselected the mile-high pine-clad oasis of Prescott as thenew home for himself and his family.

He was president of the Yavapai Gem and Mineral

society in 1948-49. and was first president of the YavapaiCounty Archeological society, formed in 1949. He hasa weekly program on KYCA of Prescott featuring thearts, sciences, and hobbies.

Scheduled for the March issue of Desert Magazine is

the story of an attempted ascent of Picacho del Diablo,highest peak on the Baja California pe ninsula. LouiseWerner, who wrote the story for Desert, was a memberof the Sierra club expedition which undertook to make

the ascent, but failed to reach the goal because of ob-stacles which could not be overcome in the time allowedfor the climb. Accompanying the story will be NortonAllen's map of the western slope of the San Pedro Martirrange, of which El Picacho is the high peak.

on, Sfocuty&i,

Many thousands of new subscribers were added toDesert Magazine's list during the Christmas season thisyear, and to these new companions along the desert trails

the editorial staff extends a cordial welcome.We want the new readers of Desert to knowwhatour veteran readers already knowthat they have astanding invitation to visit the publishing plant whenthey have the oppo rtunity. Th e art gallery, the bookshop and the printing plant all are open to your inspec-tionseven days a week during the winter season.

Above is an artist's sketch of our building, and belowis a map showing the location, in the Coachella Valleyof California.

Ove r the front door is the legend: "Frie nd or S tranger,You are Welcome Here"and that welcome appliesespecially to those who read Desert Magazine everymonth.



23/48

The VINEGAROON (Trithyreus sp): Al-most crab-like in appearance, thisstrange creature is harmless and canonly pinch with its dangerous-lookingclaws. Its tiny eyes are on top of itshead at the base of its pincers. Someare almost comp letely black, whileothers max be a dark reddish-brown.

Desert OgresBy GEORGE M. BRADT

Photographs by the Author

N THESE pagesare pictured five moreor less well-knowndenizens of the desert countrydesert dwellers whichdo notrate very high eitherin beauty or popularity.

Before readingthe story, look at the pictures and decide ona basis of appearancewhichof these little ogres of the desertcountry you would considei the most dangerousto meet at closequarters. Two of them have poison venom, threedo not.

If I were to be the judge, on looks only, I would name theVinegaroon as Public EnemyNo. 1 of the quintet. Certainlyit isa vicious looking little beastie. Then would comethe Centipede,the Tarantula, the Black Widow spiderand finally the Scorpion.

But looks are deceiving. Actually,the order in which I havenamed these little ogresis the reverse of their poison potential.

Most dangerousof the five is the Scorpion. Not all Scorpionsare killers. Dr. Herbert Stahnke of Mesa, Arizona, who spentmany years collectingand studying Scorpions, reportedin 1941that of the 21 species he had identified only two of them carrieddeadly venom. Thesetwo were small types of Scorpions found

F E B R U A R Y , 19 5 1 23


24/48

I

in southern Arizona. The poison of these two species is notalways deadly. Mostof the deaths reported are among children.Adults may become seriouslyill, but generally they recover.Dr.Stahnke found thatthe immediate applicationof ice to the woundis the most effective firstaid treatment.

Scorpions do not bite. They hold their prey with their sharpjaws and use their segmented tail withits curved, needle-sharpstinger to inject poison beneaththe victim's skin. Scorpions preferto hide in dark places duringthe daywood piles, bedrolls, shoesand clothing.

Villain No. 2 is the Black Widowthe United States' onlydangerous spider. It is about an inch long, glossy black, withadistinctive red spot on the under side of its abdomen. BlackWidow is not aggressive and prefers to live undisturbed in asecluded corner of store-room or wood pile. It only bites whenaccidentally restrained. Although deaths have been reportedforthis dangerous spider, its bite, though followed by severe andpainful symptoms,is usually not fatal. A doctor should be con-

sulted immediately, however. Here again, watch your bare hands!The Centipede really does look dangerous. When capturedit

TARANTULA: This large and commondesert spider can often be encounteredwalking over the desert floor in searchof food. When frightened it will dashfo r its hole, but if one's foot is placedover the opening in the ground quicklyenough the spider may be picked upwith a long pair of forceps. The one

in the photograph is shown with itsegg-sack which contains a hundred orso tiny cream-colored eggs.

DESERT MAGAZINE


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.

T H R E E P U B L I C E N E M I E S : Althoughthe Centipede is not really dangerous,its bite is extremely painful. The othertw othe Black Widow and the littlestraw-colored species of Scorpion,carry venom in their stingersvenomthat has been known to cause death,although fatalities are rare.

will thrash about, biting with its sharp jaws when held in a glovedhand. Actually, its bite (not sting) is more painful than dangerous.It is not true that its feet are poison ed. The sharp claws on itstwo score and more legs may puncture the skin but they containno venom. Don't be afraid of the centipedebut don't let alarge one bite you, either!

The Ta rantula is undeservedly feared by many. It really isa gentle and inoffensive desert citizen. Its sharp fangs can inflicta painful bite, but no poisoning will result. Tar antu las shou ld beprotected because of their insect-eating habits. They can be forcedfrom their web-lined tunnels by flooding with water. They makeinteresting pets, and can be kept alive on a diet of cockroaches.

Las t on the list is the completely innocuous V inegaro on. Itdoes n't sting, or bite, or even shoot vinegar into your eyes. Itsgreat pincers are used to hold its prey. It receives its odd na mefrom its habit of emitting a vinegar-like odo r when m olested. Itsother nam e is whip scorpion. W hile its usual diet is insects Ionce discovered a large vinegaroon in my garage dining on a babyhouse mouse. It is really a beneficial fellow and should be pro-tected. Maybe it isn't very prettybut then beauty is only skindeep.

F E B R U A R Y , 1 9 5 1


26/48

inBakersfield, California . . .

A 200-year-old "lost mine," whichonce was worked by Indians and fur-nished gold to the Spaniards, is againyielding gold ore, someof it worth$240 a ton. The old mine is located50 miles south of here in the Tehach-api Mountains, has been reopened byV. F. Baggett and is now being workedby Baggett and his wife.

Baggett is a former constructionemploye of the Fox movie studios inHollywood. He dreamed for years ofworking his own mine, saved as muchas he could and completed a three-year course in mineralogy before hestarted out to look for a mine. Hear-ing through a Bureau of Mines officialof lost mines in the Frazier Park re-gion, Baggett staked claims, bought300 acres of land, took in machineryand started working the dump of theold abandoned Spanish mine.

After three months he unearthedthe mine portal. Following the worked-out gold vein deep into the tunnel,Baggett discovered that it grew richer.He is digging a new tunnel and bring-ing out dirt assaying $240 a ton. Al-though he declines to disclose thevalue of his recoveries to date, Bag-gett admits that he considers the$83,000 he has invested in the prop-

erty well spent.Legend has it that in the days ofthe Spanish missions Indians carriedthe gold ore in baskets over the moun-tains to the coast, where it was shippedto Spain. When white men tried tofollow the Indians to learn the sourceof the gold, the tribesmen disappearedin the mountainous country. Finallythe Indians tired of working for theSpaniards and abandoned the mine.It had been one of the lost mines ofthe Southwest ever since.HumboldtStar.

Wa shington, D. C. . . .

In a move to spur development ofuranium resources on the Navajo In-dian reservation, the Indian bureauhas ruled that members of the tribemay reassign their mining permits.The new rule applies only to existingpermits held by individual Navajos.Its purpose is to make possible de-velopment of uranium deposits on thereservation in Arizona and New Mex-ico by experienced mining companies.The new policy does not yet apply tomining permits that may be issued to

Indians in the future. This may notbe the best way to exploit the resourcesfor the best interests of the whole tribe,the bureau says.Gallup Independent.

Coachellct,California . , .Changes in mining laws making reg-

ulations still more strict and requiringmore red tape and boak work forprospectors and small miners, havebeen proposed by the U. S. BureauofLand Management and the Depart-ment of Interior has indicated it willsubmit them next year to congress.Some western legislators and miningleaders believe the prospector andsmall miner would be doomed underthe proposed laws.

Proposed changes would: increasethe value of annual assessment workfrom $100 to $300; require advertis-ing applications for patents; requireriling an annual statement of assess-

ment work performed; make patentholders and prospectors liable fordamages; change mineral patent pro-cedure so as to reserve to the federalgovernment the surface and surfaceresources; make much more compli-cated the filing of locations; revisethe manner of locating claims on un-surveyed land.Desert Barnacle.

Twentynine Palms, California . . .Land recently deleted from Joshua

Tree National Monument, a net of289,500 acres, is now open for min-eral entry and leasing, according toPaul B. Witmer, Los Angeles districtmanager for the Bureau of Land Man-agement. New monu men t boundarieshave been set. Land now availablefor entry was deleted from the easternportion of the desert preserve.Des-ert Trail.

Artesia, New Mexico. . .Despite the general belief that there

are no profitable ore deposits in thisarea, a reportedly rich deposit of gold,silver, copper and lead has been un-covered on Twelve Mile Hill east ofArtesia. Charles Eaker is creditedwith making the discovery. Ten claimshave already been staked at the oldturquoise diggings on state land withinsight of Highway 83. Prospecting hasturned up free gold and silver andcopper and lead in ore formin ad-dition to quan tities of turquo ise. Th edeposit is about 10 feet under the sur-face in the form of a thrust. Eak erand associates have been quietly work-ing on the thrust more tht.n six months.It is estimated the ore and free metal,not including the gold and turquoise,is worth $19.50 a ton.Penasco Val-ley News.

Grants, New Mexico . . .Although published reports of the

uranium discovery near Grants havebeen greatly exaggerated, according toThomas Evans, chief geologist for theSanta Fe railroad, the company plansto continue extensive exploration andsampling operations and tentativelyproposes to build an experimentalcrushing mill and laboratory at Baca,20 miles west of Grants.

The Tyuyamunite ore containing theuranium is found in limestone alongthe surface. There is no continuousvein of the ore, Evans says. It is foundin spotty locations. Reports of an 80-

mile-long ore belt "were assum ptionsby outsiders" after they heard Evanssay the limestone formation "extendswest from Grants to Gallup." He saidthe company has tested only six orseven miles of the field.

Prospector Alfred Hutton filed anearly claim on a 640-acre tract in the

heart of the uranium-bearing district,is now involved in a dispute with therailroad over the rights to the ore.Gallup Independent.

Vernal, Utah . . .

A natural gas deposit capable ofproducing more than four million cu-bic feet per day has been discoveredby the California Oil company in itsRed Wash drilling, but since there isno way to pipe gas out of the area thecompany will drill on through the gasformation in its search for oil. The

Red Wash structure is located about23 air miles from Vernal. Gas wasdiscovered between 4261 and 4294feet.Vernal Express.

Winnemucca, Nevada . . .

Getchell Mines, Inc., a gold pro-ducing property since 1936, will shiftits operation to defense activities andgo into the production of tungsten asa result of the present war mobiliza-tion. Properties owned by the Getchellmine in the Potosi district include fourtungsten deposits. There has been no

order from the federal government toclose gold mines, as was the case dur-ing World War II, but it is claimedthat shortages of material and laborwill automatically force the closing ofmost gold mines.

Tungsten is a strategic mineral, ismore scarce than ever now with theChinese, Indian and Korean sourcescut off. It is believed these sourcesare supplying Russia and CommunistChina with the vital metal. Activationof tungsten mining may greatly increasethe business pace in Nevada, as thereare many showings throughout thestate. Getchell may provide custommilling for the small deposits.Hum-boldt Star.



27/48

Reno, Nevada . . .Basic forms on which applications

for strategic and critical mineralde-velopment loansmay be made underthe Defense ProductionAct are nowavailable at the Department of Com-merce field office, 118 West Secondstreet, Reno, and regulations govern-ing the loans have been formulated,according to Senator Pat McCarran.

A new Defense Minerals Adminis-tration has been set up to receive andprocess loan applications. Adminis-trator is James Boyd. Aim of the newagency is to increase suppliesof min-erals vital to national defense. Appli-cants for loans must furnish a greatdeal of additional information beyondthat includedon the application forms.This information must be detailed,covers a description of the mineralshowing, size and history of the de-posit, its location, and financial re-quirements of the project. Full infor-mation may be obtained from the Renooffice of the Departmentof Commerce.Ree se River Reveille.

Henderson, Nevad a . . .

Discovery of a new use for lignite,a form of low grade coal,has broughthope to owners of lignite claims inNevada. Experiments with lignitebythe Bureau of Mines, working withtheUniversity of North Dakota, havede-veloped a process for making gas fromlignite, a gas that scientists say "maywell produce a revolution in the fuelindustry." The new gas, it is claimed,has many uses other thanas an in-dustrial fuel. It can be made intogasoline, alcohol, ammonia, waxes,dyes and even into fats for humanconsumption. Already costof produc-ing the gas is low enough to competewith coal shippedfor long distances.Las V egas Review-Journal.

Tonopah , Nevada . . .

A 400-foot tunnel is being drivenat the Booth gold propertyin the oldCimarron district, 30 miles north ofTonopah, in the hopes of locatingdownward extensionsof veins exposedin upper workings.The mine,has beenacquired by Chicago interests whohave installed a Diesel engine,com-pressor, mechanical muckerand othermachinery.Los Angeles Times.

Salt Lake City, Uiah . . .

Kennecott Copper corporationan-nounced a cash distribution of $2.25a share, payable December19. Thatbrought paymentsfor 1950 to $5.50compared with $4.00in 1949. At thesame time it was indicated that opera-

tionsat

McGilland

Ruth, Nevada,are being examined witha view toincreasing production there. TheMining Record.

Tonopah, Nevad a . . .Hundreds of shut-down lead and

zinc mines in the Southwest willbeopened this year when the gov-ernment starts buying $1,400,000,000worth of strategic metals. Thisis theprediction of John H. East, Jr., re-gional directorof the Bureau of Mines."It will be the biggest thing thathashappened in the West in many years,"East said. "The lack of miners is theonly limit as to how far we can go.There will be more jobs thanwe canfill."Tonopah Times-Bonanza.

Inyo, California . . .

Completion by January was sched-uled for a new crushing plant whichwill be an expansion of the U. S.Vanadium mill in Pine Creek Can-yon. The new unit will make it pos-sible for the firm to process scheeliteand powellite ores from eastern Cali-

fornia and Nevada. First shipmenttothe mill will be between 1000 and2000 tons of table tailings from theAtolia district. Small lotsof tungstenore are being purchased in the areafor processing.Inyo Independent.

San Francisco, California . . .

The California Journal of Minesand Geology, Vol. 46, No. 3, is now

ready for distribution, accordingtoOlaf P. Jenkins, chief of the state di-vision of mines. This issue containsa description of the Needles mag-nesite depositand the Capitan magne-site deposit in San Bernardino County,with a summary of the history anddevelopment work doneon the Needlesdeposit. Other articlesof interest tomining men are included. Price ofthe journal is $1.00, it may be ob-tained by writing to the Division ofMines, Ferry Building,San Francisco1 1 , California.

Vernal, Utah . . .

Uranium ore has been discoveredon property 16 miles east of Vernalon U. S. 40, and to test extent of thedeposits a 100-foot shaftis being sunkto determine if the ore deposits are indepth or merely on the points of rocks.Samples willbe taken from the shaftevery two or three feet.Vernal Ex-

press. Winnemucca, Nevada . . .

Some high-quality opals recentlyhave been reported minedby G. KeithHudson at his Rainbow propertyinVirgin Valley nearthe Nevada-Oregonborder. The mine was formerly ownedand operated by Tiffany's of NewYork.Humboldt Star.

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Los Ang eles: 434 W. 61 h St. or Union Station TRinity 9211Hollywood: 6702 Hollywood Boulevard Hillside 0221

F O R D E P E N D A B L E T R A N S P O R T A T I O N

Se S pecific


28/48

He hauled wood 15 milesfor his wife to chop.

By SANDY HASSELL

yyVERNIGHT Hosteen Little-\S whiskers had become a person of

importance. He realized thismore than anyone else. Old acquain-tances whom he had always addressedas "my friend" he was now calling"my son" and "my grandson."

The Big Boss at Washington hadwritten many letters about him to theSuperintendent of the Navajo IndianAgency at Whirling Water. The Su-perintendent had shown him all ofthese letters and had asked him manyquestions. He had been called intothe office for more personal talks withthe Superintendent than any otherNavajo in the district. The talks wereabout the time when he had been ascout under General Miles and theywere chasing Geronimo. How he lovedto talk about those old times.

The Superintendent told him thatif he could prove he had been a Scouthe would get a pension check eachmonth from Washington.

Much letter writing brought no re-sults, so the Superintendent took himfor a long ride of nearly 300 miles toBear Springs, where some of his oldcomrades lived. He wanted to see ifthey could positively identify him.Yes, they all remembered him butlike Little-whiskers himself they couldnot remember what name he had usedwhen he was in the army.

The discharge papers they had givenhim when he left the army had been

destroyed years before, but why shouldthe Big Boss in Washington be soparticular about such a silly thing asa name and a little piece of paperwhen everyone knew th

195102 desert magazine 1951 february

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