195810 desertmagazine 1958 october

8/14/2019 195810 DesertMagazine 1958 October

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HISTORIC PANORAMAS XXT o m b s t o n e

By JOSEF and JOYCE MUENCHFrom this early mining town in southeasternArizona has come the rich tradition of the OldWestthe wickedness, gun-play, feud betweenlaw and outlaw, stage holdups and Indianraids.Even with surface changes of electric lightsand paved streets, Tombstone is history, fromthe Bird Cage Theater (now a museum), theCrystal Palace saloon, the newspaper Epitaph,and the world-famous Lady Banksia Rose toBoothill Cemetery at the edge of town.Most of the early buildings date from 1879to 1882. Two years before the first date EdSchieffelin discovered the Lucky Cuss, instead

of the tombstone he had been warned was allhe could expect in the area. The early 1880switnessed the Earp-Clanton feud, climaxed bythe notorious battle at the O.K. Corral. It wasafter this that Sheriff Slaughter ordered crooksout of town and saw to it that they went.Water in the mines, still believed to hoardriches, closed them down, but Tombstone,"the town too tough to die," is now a pleasantresort community with an incomparable cli-mate and all its glowing memories.

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DESERT CALENDA RSeptember 27-October 5New Mex-ico State Fair, Albuquerque.October 1-5San Bernardino CountyFair, Victorville, California.October 1-10Aspencades to CarsonNational Forest, from Taos, N.M.October 2-5Eighth Annual Desert

Empire Fair, Ridgecrest, Calif.October 3-4Candlelight Processionon 3rd, Feast Day of St. Francisde Assissi on 4th, Ranchos de Taosand Santa Fe.October 3-5Greenlee County Fair,Duncan, Arizona.October 4Fiesta and Dance, Nam-be Pueblo, New Mexico.October 4-5 Santa Cruz CountyFair and Rodeo, Sonoita, Arizona.October 4-5 Apple Days, Julian,California.October 4-5 Third Annual Ridge-runners Jeep Cruise from DesertCenter (write to A. Thomas, 1110Magnolia, El Cajon, Calif., forinformation).October 4-5Elks Rodeo, Victorville,California.October 5-6 Lions Club AnnualRoping Show, Battle Mountain,Nevada.October 8-12Eastern New MexicoState Fair, Roswell.October 10-11Weber County Prod-ucts Days, Ogden, Utah.October 10-12Covered Wagon Dazeand Pegleg Liars Contest, BorregoSprings, California.October 10-12 Graham CountyFair, Safford, Arizona.October 10-12 Latter-Day SaintsGeneral Conference, Salt Lake City.October 11-12Fifth Annual Colo-rado River Cruise from Blythe,California, to Martinez Lake, Ariz.October 11-12Tri-State Fair, Dem-ing, New Mexico.October 11-12 20-30 Club JuniorRodeo, Phoenix.October 11-12Nevada State SeniorGolf Tournament, Las Vegas.October 16-18 Four Corners Geo-logical Field Trip and Convention,Gallup, New Mexico.October 16-19 Pima County Fair ,Tucson.October 17-19 Annual PioneerDays, Twentynine Palms, Calif.October 17-19 Helldorado, Tomb-stone, Arizona.October 18Allied Artists Art Festi-val, Lancaster, California.October 19 Ranch Fiesta, Yuma,

Arizona.October 20-27 Eighth AnnualTrailer Rally, Palm Springs, Calif.October 22-23Sahara Cup Power-boat Races, Lake Mead, Nevada.October 23-26Cattle Call, Brawley,California.October 27-29Southwest Cattle Fes-tival, Clovis, New Mexico.October 31Chaves County YouthParade and Hallowe'en Festival,Roswell, New Mexico.October 31 Annual Mardi GrasParade, Barstow, California.October 31Jaycee Hallowe'en Pa-rade, Lehi, Utah.October 31-November 1 NevadaAdmission Day Festivities, CarsonCity.October 31-November 11 ArizonaState Fair, Phoenix.

V o l u m e 21 O C T O B E R . 1958 N u m b e r 10C O V E RH I S T O R YC A L E N D A RB O T A N YP E R S O N A L I T YC R A F T SFIELD TRIPC O N T E S TLOST M INEREPTILESN A T U R EFICTIONP H O T O G R A P H YPOETRYEXPERIENCETRUE OR FALSEA R TC L O S E - U P SLETTERSN E W SM I N I N GH O B B YL A P I D A R YC O M M E N TB O O K SI N D I A N S

Spectators at Colorado National MonumentBy CHUCK ABBOTT

Tombstone, by JOSEF and JOYCE MUENCH . 2October events on the desert 3New Shade Tree for the Desert, by TEX REESE . 4Trail-Blazer of Grand CanyonBy NELL MURBARGER 5Craftsmen of Apple Valley

By RANDALL HENDERSON 10Gem Trails in Arizona's Whitlocks

By FENTON TAYLOR 13Picture-of-the-Month contest announcement . . 16Lost Morrow Turquoise Mine

By EUGENE L. CONROTTO 17The Spotted Night Snake

By GEORGE M. BRADT 19Friendly Birds of the Brush

By EDMUND C. JAEGER 20Hard Rock Shorty of Death Valley . . . . . 22Pictures of the Month 23Beauty's Vigil and other poems 24Cactus Spines for Surviva l, by W. I. LIVELY . 25A test of your desert knowledge 26Venerable Painter of Santa Fe

By W. THETFORD LeVINESS 28About those who write for Desert 30Comment from Desert's readers 31From her e and there on the deser t 32Current news of desert mines 36Gems and Minerals 38Amateur Gem Cutter, by DR. H. C. DAKE . . . 41Just Between You an d Me, by the Editor . . . 42Reviews of Southwestern literature 43Pueblo Portraits

By JOHN L. BLACKFORD . . . . back coverThe Desert Magazine is published monthly by Desert 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. Title registered No.358865 in U. S. Patent Office,and contents copyrighted 1958 by Desert Magazine, Inc. Permission to reproduce contentsmust be secured from the editor in wri t ing.CHARLES E. SHELTON, PublisherRANDALL HENDERSON, Editor EUGENE L. CONROTTO, Associate EditorBESS STACY, Business Mana ger EVONNE RIDDELL, Circulation Manag erUnsolicited manuscripts and photographs submit ted cannot be re tu rned or acknowledgedunless full return postage is enclosed. Desert Magazine assumes no responsibility fordamage or loss of manuscripts or photographs al though due care will be exercised. Sub-scribers should send notice of change of address by the first of the month preceding issue.SUBSCRIPTION RATESOne Year $4.00 TwoYears $7.00

Canadian Subscriptions 25c Extra. Foreign 50c Ext raSubscriptions to Army Personnel Outside U. S. A. Must Be Mailed in Conformity WithP . O. D. Order No. 19687Address Correspondence to Desert Magazine, Palm Desert, CaliforniaO C T O B E R , 1958


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N e w S h a d e T r e e F o r t h e D e s e r t . . .

This hybrid from the TexReese nursery isnow eight and a half years old.Nurseryman Tex Reese of theTupelo Gardens, Rt. 2,Perris, Cali-

fornia, tells about the amazingnew shade tree he propagatedexpressly for thelower and hotterdesert climes a fast-spreadingthick -foliaged mesquite hybrid.R e e s e ' s m e s q u i t e , c o m b i n i n gbeauty andhardiness, mayblos-som into one ofthe most significantSouthwestern landscape advancesin years.By TEXREESE

CROSSING SOUTHERN Ar izona# ^ and theImperial Valley in Cali-* ^ fornia with my son on a summerday 25 years ago I was impressedperhaps it would be more accurate tosay depressed by two things theextreme heat, and the sparsity of goodshade trees.When I asked some of the old-timers about the lack of shade trees,they explained that the fine maplesand other species which grow sosplendidly in the east and midwesthad been unable to adapt themselvesto the desert.As a nurseryman, this problem in-terested megreatly, and I resolved tosee what might bedone about it. Andthis was thebeginning of a quest whichcontinued for many years. I was seek-

ing a tree in which would be com-bined the qualities of rapid growth,dense shade, and adaptability to anarid climate.My search virtually led me aroundthe world, and it was not until yearslater that I came upon a promisingspecies in a small remote valley inthe foothills of the Andes Mountainsin South Am erica. This tree, ProsopisGlandulosis, is closely related to thenative mesquite of the Southwest.Oneimportant difference, however, is thatit never acquired, or had discarded,the thorns so characteristic of thehoney andscrewbean mesquites of theNorth American desert states. Butwhat it lacked in thorns it made upin feminine beauty andqueenly grace.Seeds were secured from the SouthAmerican thornless mesquite. In ourhot desert they produced a motley lotof seedlings of intolerable irregularityin shape and growth. Only occasion-ally did the seeds yield a creditabletype of tree. When I crossed themwith our shaggy honey mesquite therewas little improvement, due to the factthat the wind and the bees which dothe pollinating, are notconcerned withquality.Again I had to take up the searchfor a desirable pollinator for ourunstable tree from South America. Itwas many months later after many

trips into the desert that, following arumor, I located a native male mes-quitethe only exclusively male mes-quite I have ever found. It was on theMojave Desert, a 3-mile hike from thenearest roadway.This grand old tree is a monarch inits own right, with 3Vi-foot trunkgrizzled veteran of more than a hun-dred years of heat and desert sand-storms.I believed I had found theright tree,but how could onecross-pollinatetwotrees located 300miles apart, with a35-day difference in flowering season?It took three more years to achievemy goal. Finally I wasable to arriveat the Mojave tree at the right stageto obtain the pollen from itsflowers,and then there was the problem ofkeeping it at the right temperature for35 days until theSouth American treewas in flower.We dusted 10 flower clusters, andthen covered them with paper bags toprevent wind and bees from bringingother pollen into the fertilization proc-e s s . It was a glorious day when wefound that a couple of seed pods hadstarted to develop, and in due timethere were a few of the mature seedswe needed.After this initial success we workedout a method enabling us to gatherpollen in greater quantity, and to ex-clude wind and bees from the entiretree, thus giving us the hybrid seedsin greater quantity.Tests with these crosses broughtsurprising results a new family ofthe sturdiest hybrids I have ever seendense with brilliant green foliage,an evergreen with a very distinctiveand artistic leaf pattern, uniform inshape andcolora beautiful and ma-jestic tree.It is a fast growing tree which willsurvive and grow in the hottest areaswithout irrigation if there is a watertable which can be reached by thelong tap-root that burrows itsway intothe earth to a depth twice the heightof the tree.Further cross-breeding has enabledus to produce trees either with orwithout the usual mesquite thorns.And now that we have mated thetough old Mojave veteran with thedelicate Lady Prosopis from south ofthe Equator, perhaps their offspringwill prosper and spread in the greatdesert Southwest, fulfilling the proph-ecy that "The wilderness and the soli-tary place shall be glad for them; andthe desert shall rejoice and blossomas the rose."

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Capt. William Wallace Bass pioneered the development of Grand Canyonas one of the world's outstanding tourist attractions. During the ear ly yea rsof this century thousands of persons were entertained at his hotel on the SouthRim, and were able to explore the very bowels of the Canyon over trails hehad m ade . Today Capt. Bass ' son is carrying on the spirit of the work started75 yea rs ag o. Bill Bass ' nightly color slide programs at his Wickenburg Motelare giving tourists an opportunity to see the beauty of the Southwest whichlies beyond the main-traveled high wa ys.

By NELL MURBARGERBI LL BASS has a lways fe ltcheated because he wasn't bornat the Grand Canyon."I should have been," he said oneday this summer as we visited at hishome in Wickenburg, Arizona. "Iwould have been, tooexcept in 1900there wasn't a doctor or midwife with-in 70 miles of Dad and Mother'shomestead on the South Rim. Con-sequently, a few days before I wasdue. Mom climbed into a stagecoachbehind four half-wild broncs and joltedover 73 miles of rough road to thenearest town, camping one night onthe way. A few days after my birthat Williams, she jolted back homeand that's the only reason I can'tclaim to have been the first white childborn at Grand Canyon . . ."At the time of Bill's birth the Bassname was well known in northern Ari-zona where Bill's father had settled 17years earlier. First white man to es-tablish a home on either rim of the

Canyon, Capt. William Wallace Bassimmediately realized the potential ofthis mighty abyss, and became a pion-eer promoter of the Canyon as a tour-ist attraction.Born at Shelbyville, Indiana, in1849, Bass entered railroading as ayoung man. When his health brokeand doctors told him he had but afew months to live, he quit his NewYork job and drifted West where achange of climate and work restoredhis strength.Three years of wandering broughthim to Williams, then a frontier townwith a few false-fronted buildings anda row of tents strung along the rail-road tracks. The surroundings so ap-pealed to Bass he located a piece ofground on Cataract Creek, seven milesnorth of town, and there establishedresidence in a cave.Bill's father first saw the GrandCanyon as the result of a story toldhim by Emma Lee, one of the widows

of John D. Lee, executed six yearsearlier for his part in the MountainMeadows massacre."Emma, who was then a resident ofAshfork, told Dad that during theseveral years Lee had been in hidingfrom the law, he had cached threefive-ga llon cans filled with gold nug-gets in the canyon. She had a mapwhich she said Lee had made to marklocation of the cans, and she gaveeither this map or a copy of it to Dad,together with some of the nuggets Leehad found."Soon after beginning his treasurehunt, Capt. Bass realized that theGrand Canyon possessed an intangibleworth far greatar than all the gold thatmight be secreted in its depths. Underthe impetus of its strange spell heestablished a permanent home on theSouth Rim, about 25 miles west of thepresent site of El Tovar.In those days, of course, there wasno swank El Tovar Hotel, Bright An-O C T O B E R , 1 9 5 8

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Capt. William Bass, left, and Capt. Jack Crawford,poet-scout who visited the South Rim Cam p. Ada Diefendorf Bass. Life at the Canyon wa s farremoved from what it had been in the East.gel Trail or Phantom Ranch; and notuntil 30 years later would Grand Can-yon be set aside as a National Park.In that year of 1883 there was onlyCapt. Bass at the west end of theCanyon, and John Hance at the east."With the help of two HavasupaiIndians, Dad first built a burro trailfrom his rim camp down the canyonwall to Mystic Spring, and with hisburros loaded with supplies and geol-ogy and astronomy books, he spent hisfirst winter roaming and studying theCanyon. By the spring of 1884 hewas convinced that here was the great-est potential tourist attraction in theWest, and that summer he equippeda small rustic camp for photographers,artists, geologists, writers and sight-seers.

"The following year he extended histrail to the Colorado River, a distanceof seven miles; and working entirelyon his own, with neither moral norfinancial support, he laid out a roadfrom his camp to Williams, bought anold four-horse stagecoach, and estab-lished the first passenger service fromthe railroad at Williams and Ashforkto Grand Canyon."This stage was the coach sent outfor General Miles' use during the In-dian raids," recalled Bill. "Dad usedit until the wheels no longer could berepaired."By 1885 Capt. Bass was makingregular trips carrying tourists from therailroad to his camp, where they were

quartered in several wooden-flooredtent-houses scattered among the juni-pers and pinyons. Meals were pre-pared in a small wooden building, setapart from the sleeping quarters, andeaten in a large circus tent. Moun tedon burros or horses supplied by theirhost, guests were taken down the pre-cipitous trail to the river, where thosewith sufficient daring to cross the riverin a canvas boat might proceed up-ward to the North Rim and PointSublime.Almost from the beginning Capt.Bass sought to interest the railroad inpromoting the Canyon as a tourist at-traction. In 1885 he succeeded in lur-ing to his camp the general passengeragent of the Santa Fe. This executive,unfortunately, was not a man abound-

ing in foresight, for upon returning toSan Francisco he reported that Bass'proposal was not feasible. No one,he declared, would go that far only tosee a hole in the ground!After seven years on the South Rim,one day Bass' stage brought to campa party of two men and three womenfrom Prescott. One of the ladies wasMiss Ada Diefendorf, a native ofWorcester, New York, and more re-cently of Boston, who had come Westto live with her aunt, and teach music.With Miss Ada primly mounted on asidesaddle, the party rode horses downthe steep trail to the Havasupai Indiansettlement in Havasu Canyon . MissAda was proud of the fact that she

was one of the first white women tohave ridden down the rugged Havasutrail.Romance, as well as blisters, flow-ered on that tripfor two years laterthe former Boston music teacher be-came the wife of 43-year-old WilliamBass."Mother was only 25 and knewnothing about pioneer lifebut shehad what it takes!" proudly declaredher son. "No t only was she the firstwhite woman to rear a family on theSouth Rim, she was the finest businesspartner Dad could have found any-where."Nearly 30 years of her life wasspent caring and cooking for tourists.When no other guide was availableshe often escorted our guests to theriver, and for months at a time stayedalone with us kids73 miles from thenearest townwhile Dad would be offsomewhere on business, sometimes asfar away as Washington, D.C."We had no surface water exceptthe spring runoff from melting snow,and the July thunderstorms, but wecaught as much of this as possible insmall dams and cisterns. All our stockhad to have water pulled up in bucketsout of a cistern and poured into atrough."As a consequence, there were fre-quent occasions when there wasn'tmuch water available for washingclothes. At such times Mother wouldload the soiled laundry on a burro,

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make the hard trip down to the river,camp there overnight, wash and drythe laundry the next day, and on thethird day pack it on the burro andstart back up the trail to camp. Thatwas doing it the hard way!"Even trips to town were rugged.When Dad was still using the old Gen-eral Miles stagecoach, it was his cus-tom to break new horses to harnessby driving a pair of wild broncs witha pair of mules. To hitch the team itwas first necessary to hobble and blind-fold the broncs."Soon as the traces were fastened,Dad w ould grab the lines and scrambleup to the high driver's seat. Motherreleased the blindfolds, and as theteam took off in a wild leap, she'dswing aboard the leather boot at therear of the stage."There she would ride for severalmiles until the runaway team wouldslow down enough so she could takeoff the hobbles, and get inside thevehicle. Since we always had to cam povernight between our home an d town,she often said she had prepared a mealor slept under every tree in the 73miles between Ashfork and BassCamp!"Along with serving as a combina-tion hotel keeper, guide, hostler, host-ess, cook, laundress, chambermaid andfrontier wife, Ada Bass reared threedaughters and a son.Even though he missed being bornat Grand Canyon, Bill Bass may besaid to have cut his teeth on thatmighty gorge and he grew to manhoodalong its rim and in its depths."For the first 26 years of my lifethe Grand Canyon served progressive-ly as my nursery, school, church, play-ground and workshop," declared Bill."I made my first trip down Dad's oldtrail to the river when I was less thana year old. Mo ther often told howshe loaded me into a kyack on oneside of a burro and to balance theload put our old dog, Shep, into theopposite kyack."During his early search for the Leetreasure, Capt. Bass discovered somepromising gold, silver, copper and as-bestos deposits. Since the asbestosmines were located on the north sideof the river, it was virtually impossibleto ship the ore.In 1908 Capt. Bass built a cablecrossing which spanned the Coloradoat the foot of Bass Trail, and therebyafforded easier access to North Rimpoints and the Bass mines. It nowbecame possible to work the mines ata profit, and by the time Bill was 12years old he was in charge of theburro pack-train which carried ore upthe trail to camp . Some of this asbes-tos showed the highest grade of anymined to that time, and was shipped

to France for use in the world's firstfireproof theater curtains.The original tramway, consisting oftwo cables and a small car capable oftransporting nothing heavier than bur-ros, was enlarged to four cables anda car large enough to carry a 1200-pound mule or horse.Young Bill also wrangled the stageand saddle stock and helped in manyother ways to care for the growinginflux of tourists. Between 1885 and1920, more than 5000 persons wereentertained at Bass Camp, many ofthese being men and women of na-tional prominencethe great South-western writer George Wharton James,artist Thomas Moran, Zane Gray, JohnMuir, Luther Burbank, Rex Beach,Henry Ford, John Van Dyke, Capt.Jack Crawford, and Lieut J. C. Ives.In the summer of 1914 Bass Campwelcomed its first horseless stagea

seven-passenger Studebaker purchased

by Capt. Bass in Phoenix for $1500.The following year, partly as a resultof this speedier mode of travel andtwo additional buckboard carriages,the Basses grossed $21,000 at theirlodge. It was a sum larger than theyhad ever cleared before, or wouldever clear again.During the first 35 years of whiteman's residence at Grand Canyon,Capt. Bass had a finger in every goodthing that came there as a result ofcivilization. In 1894 he served aschairman of the first meeting held forthe purpose of organizing a survey fora railroad from Williams to the Can-yon, and was appointed superintend-ent of construction for that work. Hewas instrumental in establishing thefirst school at the Canyon, and by hisown effort constructed more than 50miles of trails within the Canyon, in-cluding the first trail to the North Rim.His work in behalf of the Havasu-

Bill Bass. Photo by author.

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Bass Tramway across the Colorado River.pai Indians was virtually limitless.Not only did he give them seeds andteach them better ways of farming;he helped them get a school andpost-office, and for a number of yearsreg-ularly carried mail to them. Supplyingthem with modern medicines, hetreated them in times of sickness andoften supplied them with food andclothing.But, like all things, the long andsatisfying reign of the oldGrand Can-

yon pioneer at last ran its course, andhis empire began to topple. It wasdoomed from the day theCanyonwasset aside as a national park; andwhenthe Fred Harvey system moved in, thehandwriting was on the wall.Abiding by the old axiom, "If youcan't lick them, join them," young BillBass began working for Fred Harveyas a chauffeur-guide in 1917, driving1914 Pierce-Arrow limousines. Inaddition to the "Grand View Sight-

seeing Trip," then a regular featureof Grand Canyon visits, Bill occasion-ally took charter parties on long then-hazardous journeys to the North Rimvia Lee's Ferry, and into the PaintedDesert. During theyears he was em-ployed by the company in this capac-ity it was his privilege to show theCanyon to some of the most famouspersons of that era, including theKingof theBelgians, Marshal Foch, Doug-las Fairbanks, Mary Pickford, PolaNegri, Tom Mix and others."When I would be hauling folksaround showing them thesights, th ey'dask me questions and I always an-swered the best I was able," recallsBill. "Now and then, however, therewould be someone in the party whowas an authority on geology, botany,or some other subject, and if I madea mistake in my answer these expertswould be quick to correct me. I

didn't mind having them correct meI appreciated it! I drank in this infor-mation, and in addition bought or bor-rowed books onplants, birds, geology,etc. The next time someone asked methat same question, I knew theanswer.After several years folks began askinghow I had possibly learned so muchabout the Canyon. I always told them,'I acquired my education from thetourists!' "When the Canyon concession fran-chise was awarded to theFred HarveyCompany, and the 12-room Bass Hotelwas ordered removed from park prop-

erty, Capt. andMrs. Bass, on Septem-ber 15, 1923,entertained their lastpaying guest at the time-honored hos-telry. Soon afterward they moved toWickenburg, and early in 1926 theBass Trail, mining claims, millsite andall other properties at the Canyonwere purchased by the Santa Fe LandDevelopment Company for $25,000.It was Capt. Bass' wish to beburiedatop a certain promontory which, asa consequence, became known as BassTomb, and later asHoly Grail Temple.Upon his death in 1933, at the ageof 84, this last wish was carried outby his son who scattered his father'sashes over the magnificent sepulchre.Mrs. Bass survived herhusband by 18years, and at her death in 1951 waslaid to rest beneath a large pine in theGrand Canyon cemetery.After nine years in the employ ofthe Fred Harvey company, Bill Bassmoved to Wickenburg in 1926 to bewith his aging parents. Despite thefact that hewas then 26years of age,he enrolled in high school, subsequent-ly married, and began to take an activepart in community life.It wasnatural that Bill would turnto catering to the traveling public,andhis motel at the south edge of Wick-

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enburg soon became a popular stop-ping place for tourists. For a manof Bill Bass' driving energy, however,it wasn't enough to operate a motel,hold offices in half-a-dozen fraternaland civic organizations, and serve oncommittees of everything from theWickenburg Round-Up Club to theInternational Highway Association andthe Audubon Society. He also hadto have a hobby.Since childhood he had known thefascination attached to tripping a cam-era shutter, and his quest for an avo-cation led into this familiar avenue.As color film improved in quality, heturned to this medium, bought cam-eras with progressively better lenses,and began the study of photographictechnique.He has gained recognition as oneof the outstanding photographers ofthe desert country, and his closeups

of bird, flower and wildlife subjectshave been widely used by nationalpublications. His 4000-foot film, En-chantments of the Desert, has de-lighted many thousands of Wickenburgvisitors, and is one of the features ofa program given each evening at hisLa Siesta Motel.Soon after this program was initi-ated guests from everywhere wouldask, before they registered: "Is thisthe place that has the wonderful col-ored picture programs of Arizona?""I've given a complete program foras few as two persons, and I've shownthat same program to 100 or more,"Bill explained. "I have presented pro-grams varying in length from 30 min-utes to an hour-and-a-half, every nightof the week, 52 weeks a year, for afull 12 years!"For the first 10 years, Bill's showswere presented in the patio of hismotel. While Wickenburg has littleinclement weather, there were timeswhen this open-air arrangement wasnot too satisfactory, so two years agoBill enclosed part of his patio into asmall auditorium which he calls "TheCliff Room." Approximately 100 per-sons can be seated in this room at onetime, and construction of a projectedbalcony will seat another 50.Since Bill's purpose in showing hisslides is to make known the scenicwonders of his state, he does not limitattendance to his own clientele, butextends a blanket invitation to guestsregistered at all other motels, hotelsand dude ranches in the vicinity."Whether a man is patronizing myplace or some other motel isn't im-portant," said Wickenburg's Bill Bass."The only important thing is for himto learn that there's far more beauty

Entrance to Bill Bass' attractive La Siesta Motel in W ickenburg. Rockformation at right forms on e wall of the C liff Room auditorium where freecolor slide programs are presented nightly for g uests of the a rea. Photoby author.in our Southwest desert country thanhe'll ever see roaring through it at 70or 80 miles an hour."Actually," continued Bill, "I'monly trying to carry on an educationalprogram started by my Dad, 75 yearsago. Dad was so determined thattourists should see the hidden beauties

of the desert that he literally draggedthem off the trains and carried theminto the back country by stagecoachand burros. Because today's touristsdon't have time to ride burros, I'monly trying to show them that samewonderful back-country through themedium of a slide-projector . . ."ROAD NETWORK BILLBOARDRESTRICTIONS PROPOSED

The Department of Commerce an-nounced tentative regulations whichwould assure some billboard-free driv-ing on the 40,000-mile interstate high-way system. The new Federa l stand-ards would limit the use of brandnames on roadside ads; allow groupsof billboards in "informational site"areas off the highway; and ban theuse of moving signs.The proposed standards would per-mit individual billboardssubstantiallysmaller than present common billboardsizefor rural advertisers whose placesof business are located within 12 milesof the highway. But they would notpermit more than one such sign a mile.The proposed plan also would banall signs from scenic areas.Commerce Secretary Weeks said hevisualized the states creating the infor-mational sitessimilar to rest stopsoff the interstate highways in populatedareas. Travelers would drive off the

road into a landscaped area to inspectvarious ads on billboard panels. Yuma Sun

UNIQUE GILA MONSTERSUBJECT OF NEW STUDYTUCSON The National ScienceFoundation has given the University ofArizona a $12,000 grant for a studyof the Gila Monster by the departmentof zoology, according to an announce-ment by Dr. Richard A. Harvill. Thegrant covers, research t o be conductedover a ptsriod of three years, beginningin the summer of 1958. In describingthe project, University President Dr.R. A. McCauley said: "The re is evi-dence that the Gila Monster may bea unique animal which occupies animportant position in the animal king-dom."For instance, most animals in des-ert regions fall into two groups:those which must drink water or eatfoods containing much water, andthose which survive with virtually nowater intake. Some actually refuse toaccept water even when it is available.The Gila Monster, however, can livefor months without water but, at thesame time, will accept drinking water.If sufficient water is available the GilaMonster will immerse its entire body.It is thus obviously capable of a greatrange of adaptability in its environ-ment."

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The Sims C eramics team Alice and Earl. Roberts Photograp h.Craftsmen of Apple Valley ...Desert people generally are opposed to the bringing of heavyindustry into the desert areathey want to keep the air pure and theirhigh wa ys uncongested. But any desert community would w elcomethe kind of industry which Earl and Alice Sims have established inApple Valley on the Mojave Desert of California.

By RANDALL HENDERSONN HIS FIRST trip to Californiain 1931, Earl Sims' engine be-gan sputtering as he motoredthrough northern New Mexico. Hestopped at the first garage, and themechanic who repaired the faulty car-buretor was a Laguna Indian.That was Earl's first acquaintancewith the Indians of the Desert South-west. He was so impressed by theskill and intelligence of the Lagunamechanic he resolved that some dayhe would return to New Mexico andbecome better acquainted with thetribesmen of the adobe pueblos.

In recent years Earl and his wifeAlice have returned many times to thepueblos along the Rio Grande, for it

was here that prehistoric tribesmenmany hundreds of years ago were cre-ating the designs which, in modifiedform, are used for the decoration ofthe Sims Ceramics now widely soldin the art and gift shops of the South-west.Today, in a busy workshop in AppleValley, California, the Sims husband-and-wife team, with the assistance ofsome very skillful associates, are pro-ducing clay giftware that is distinctivein both design and quality. The back-ground for this enterprise dates backeven before the chance meeting withthe Laguna garage mechanic in NewMexico.Earl Sims, born in Roscommon,

Michigan, was a student of chemistryin Toledo, Ohio, in the 1920s. Whenhe finished school his first job waswith the Libby Glass Works doingqualitative analysis. One assignmenton which he worked with associatesfor many months in the Libby labora-tory was in developing ruby-coloredlenses for railway signalsLike many other midwesterners,Earl had the urge to go to Californiaand when this became possible in 1931he headed for Los Angeles. There hefound employment with one of themajor oil companies, and 10 yearslater he and Alice were married.A few months later, following thePearl Harbor tragedy, he enlisted inthe armed forces and was assigned toduty with the Signal Corps. Duringhis absence Alice took up ceramics asa hobby, and when Earl returnedhome in 1944 he found the family carparked on the driveway, and the ga-

rage filled with clay and the tools andequipment of his wife's avocation.He was interested in Alice's clay10 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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handiwork, and his knowledge ofchemistry enabled him to work withher in improving the quality of herproducts. She was creating new de-signs and finding a ready market forthem. A few months later she receivedan order for 12,000 pairs of salt andpepper shakers of a Chinese designshe had perfectedand that was thebeginning of Sims Ceramics as a com-mercial enterprise.They decided their future lay in clayproducts, and Earl gave up his job.They opened a studio in Pasadena forthe production of both original designsand contract items for jobbers andwholesalers.It was a going business from thestart, but Earl's health was causingthem concern, and when their doctorrecommended that her husband getaway from the smog zone and go toa dry climate, Alice was the one whomade the decision to seek a locationon the desert.They traveled the Southwest fromTucson to A lbuquerque seeking a fieldthat seemed to offer a good opportun-ity for their ceramics industry. Theyfelt there would be some advantage inlocating near one of the tourist meccas.Their friends and customers, Zekeand Frances Cornia of the BuffaloTrading Post in Apple Valley, Cali-fornia, urged them to locate in the newcommunity on the Mojave Desert. Thehigh desert climate was just what they

were seeking for health reasons, andthe spacious planning of the AppleValley townsite appealed to them.There was one drawback but thatwas solved the day Earl revisited theBuffalo Trading Post and saw work-men excavating trenches for a naturalgas line into the town. Natu ral gasprovides the most economical heat forfiring pottery, and when the Sims'were assured this fuel would be avail-able they bought a building site andbegan the construction of a factory-salesroom on the main street of town.Since then they have had to enlargethe original building to meet the in-creasing demand for their products.

Recently I visited their plant andwas impressed by the quality and thebeauty of the ceramic products beingcreated almost entirely by hand crafts-men. Earl and Alice trained a major-ity of their workers themselves.Since suitable clay has not yet beenTop Richard Robertson mixes andpours the clay at the Sims factory.Center Betty Patterson paints acorn dancer design on an ash tray.Bottom Isabell O'Donnell uses anairbrush to decorate a plate.

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Katchina salt and pepper shakers ofSims design.found in theMojave desert area, theirmaterial is a combination of talc fromDeath Valley, clay from Kentucky,and ground and processed feldsparobtained through commercial channels.These ingredients with certain addedchemicals, are mixed, aged, strainedand poured into molds. After theclayhas set, the molds are removed andthe articles trimmed andsponged,andsent to the kilns for hardening. Thenthey are decorated by airbrush orhand art, or both, given a glaze coat,and returned to the kilns for finalfiring.Approximately half of their outputis contract work for jobbers who fur-nish their own designs. The o ther halfis work of their own design for theirown trade . They make frequent tripsto the Indian country of Arizona andNew Mexico to study the designs de-veloped by Indian craftsmen overmany centuries of work in ceramics.They are especially fond of the sym-bolic figure s of the Mimbres tribesmen,now extinct or integrated with the

pueblo Indians of today. Thepotteryfound byarcheologists in theMimbresValley of NewMexico shows an un-usual degree of animation in itsdesign.While the Sims' use their own artisticinterpretations of popular Indian sym-bols, thethunderbird, katchina, squashblossom, corn dancer, sun shield, etc.,they do not compete with the Indiansin the field of pottery making. Rather,they have perfected a distinctive lineof their own manufacture for homeservices anddecoration dinnerware,ash trays, salt andpepper shakers, in-formal service, butter dishes and ac-cessory items. Earl spends much timein hislaboratory working on formulasfor better quality or more distinctivecoloring. For instance, he ran 1005tests before arriving at theexact shadeof turquoise used as background insome of their products.

The Sims' are not drawing-boardartists. Rather, they visualize the fin-ished product they want to create,and then employ professional artistsand clay modelers to work out theHome ofSims Ceramics inApple Valley.

details of design and color. They areboth retailers and wholesalers, butmost of their products go to art, giftand curio shops throughout the Weston a wholesale basis.In building a thriving business oftheir own, they have had to learn manylessons the hard way. For instance,the Indian thunderbird design is sowidely used for decorative purposesthat Earl did notconsider it importantto secure a copyright on the particulardesign he andAlice hadcreated. Theywere quite chagrined then, to find onthe market only a fewmonths ago analmost identical item marked "Madein Japan." Evidently an importer hadsent some of the Sims ceramic piecesto Japan andcontracted to have themduplicated at a much lower cost thanis possible under the American wagescale.Fo r a time the competition of theforeign-made merchandise cut deeplyinto their mark et. However, SimsCeramics are the product of manyyears of research as to chemical con-tent and coloring, and the superiorityof their patterns is obvious when com-pared with theJapanese-made articles.Gradually they have been regainingtheir markets, andwhen I visited theirplant huge floor trucks loaded withnewly molded clay products were beingrolled into the kilns for firing, andover in another part of the plant thewomen whoprocess and hand paintthe newly fired products were workingfull time to meet thedemand forSimsCeramics.

Earl and Alice have developed intheir high desert community an indus-try of which the townspeople areveryproud, and justly so, for the productsfrom here find their way into manyhomesand have a utility andbeautywhich reflect the finest in Americancraftsmanship.

LONE FAWNS IN W O O D SARE VERY RARELY "LOST"You'd better think twice before giv-ing in to that urge to "protect" an"orphaned" fawn.There are twogood reasons for notpicking up the deer:(1 ) The animal is not an orphanand is not lost. Usually themother isin hiding nearby, and the fawns are notat the mercy of their natural enemiessince they have practically no scentwhich would attract predators.(2 ) You stand a good chance ofbeing fined up to $500 for having aspotted fawn in your possession.Each year many well-meaning butmisinformed persons find fawns in thewoods and bring them home.MojaveDesert News

12 DESERT MAGAZINE


13/44

Gem T r a i l si n A r i z o n a ' sW h i t l o c k s . . .

The open land holds many re-wards for the weekend explorer.Here is the account of a field tripmade into an eroded range insoutheastern Arizonawhere gemstones were collected, and theearly evidences of ancient Indiansand pioneer cattlemen investi-gated.By FENTON TAYLORPhotographs by the authorMap by Norton Allen

PURPOSE in making theexpedition to southeastern Ari-zona's Whitlock Mountains oneday last February was threefold:Darvil McBride, in whose pickupwe made the trip, was anxious for usto see a crude deeply-buried cementpipe which he felt might have beenlaid down centuries ago by Indian in-habitants of this country;Rex Lay o n , another expeditionmember, wanted to show us what hecalled "the original Arizona flourmills," a hillside covered with basaltoutcrops containing two score or moreIndian grinding holes; andWe wanted to inspect a promisingcollecting area for rockhounds.Early morning found us driving easton Highway 70 from Safford, passingthe village of Solomon, the State In-spection Station at Gripe, and climb-ing the rolling foothillls of the Pelon-cillo Mountains at the eastern end ofthe Gila Valley.The paved road shot an arrow-straight course for the purple outlinesof the mountains over which toweredthe distant pyramid of Ash Peak.Watching the right side of the road,we found our first turnoff three anda half miles from the junction of High-ways 70 and 666 . White posts in thehighway fence framed the cattle guardmarking the ranch road. We rattledover the guard rails and rolled overhills made bright green with evenly-spaced creosote bushes, well-nourishedfrom abundant winter rains.We sped across the rolling hills and

TO P Whitlock Ciena ga Ranch buildings. Ad obe house once had a fort-like secon d story for protection against Indian raids.CENTER Darvil McBride and Rex Layton display some of the sand-stone concretions collected on the west slopes of the Whitlocks.BOTTOM Author's children, Edith and Melvin, discover agate andchalcedony specimens in the Whitlock badlands.

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rjgK jbt - TO CLIFTON &**'" 3-M

jounced down into mesquite-clad drawsand washes, until we came to the graybuildings and idle windmill of the 111Ranch, a part of the Ellsworth CattleCompany of Safford.No one lives at the ranch nowadays.The wooden house, with lean-to onboth sides, presented jagged windowsand sagging screen doors. A few otherbuildings were in complete disrepair,and the big tin-roofed barn was empty.This ranch was established in thenortheastern end of San Simon Valleyby W. J. Parks in 1896. It encom-passes the area immediately west ofthe Whitlock Mountains, a chain ofhumps and sharp peaks that parallelthe Peloncillo Mountain range, furthereast, for about 4 0 miles. A spur ofthe WhitlocksDry Mountainjuts

its badlands to within a mile of theranch buildings. This was our firstdestinationthe gem field.

? ; - , ( J S

Beyond the cluttered yard we closedthe gate behind us, dropped down theslope, and crossed a wash beyondwhich lay the feeding yards. A fewtawny Brahma and red Hereford steerwatched us as we followed the fainttracks of a road leading toward DryMountain.Eons ago a lake covered this area,and sedimentary deposits were builtup layer upon layer, entrapping ani-mals and plants. When the water re-ceded, erosion went to work, cuttingthe formations into countless hillocksand knolls. The line of barren hills,showing white, yellow and blue pastelcolors, stretch for miles along theWhitlocks.The road ruts took us past bedrag-gled mesquite, sage and creosotebushestheir stunted growth a sharpcontrast to the plants we had seen

nearer the highway, betraying a fiercefight for existence in a harsh land.The road to Dry Mountain affordsfairly smooth going, a trail any sedan,with careful driving, can cover. Be-yond this point the seldom-used roadis rough, sandy and washed-out, call-ing for slow travel even in a pickup.As we climbed over a rise betweentwo hills, Rex shouted for a stop. Hehad spotted unusual sandstone concre-tions covering a slope. They resembledgroups of golf balls cemented togetherin a lumpy interesting series of designs.Scouting ahead I found a clay bankin which Nature had carved a theater.A row of clay actors occupied thestage in silent tableau. This caughtthe children's fancy, and for awhilethey stood around it, speculating im-aginatively on the drama in progress.My search in these hills revealedwidely scattered agate and chalcedonyfloat in a wide assortment of formsand colors. I picked up fortificationagate almost immediately. Then Ifound some nice chalcedony roses,carnelian chalcedony, and one pieceof especially fine fire agate . One agateshowed flecks of green moss, and anodule of red jasper contained thedistinct imprint of a crinoid stalk.Much of the material in this areais just the thing for tumbling, I de-cided. One cream-colored pebble wasdecorated with a thick sprinkle of bluedots.Gazing around, I came to the con-clusion that here in the shadow of theWhitlocks was at least 30 square milesof good rock hunting territory.Since all the material is float, gemcollecting here is much like partici-pating in a carnival fishponda per-son will never know for sure what hisnext try might yield.We drove further south and uncov-ered some petrified wood and bonein the side of a slightly yellowishmound. The bone was porous, andthe wood was white and gray. Ilearned later that one man had un-covered a complete tusk in this area.

After lunch we drove back to High-way 70, and continued east once more.The paved way wound up betweenrounded peaks and buttes. After eightmiles we could look down the valleybetween the Whitlocks and the Pelon-cillos. A sign reading "HackberryRanch8 Miles," indicated our sec-ond turnoff to the right that day, andsoon we were humming along a well-traveled ranch road.We dropped into the valley, andcame to the inhabited HackberryRanch, completely encircled by fence.Since the road went through the yard,we had two gates to open and close.Yellow grass waved across the val-ley and stained the mountain slopes

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Terry Taylor stands by two pipes which protrude fromthe exposed wa sh wall. Robert Layton examines a basalt boulder containingIndian grinding holes.to add brightness to their deep bluecolor. Mourning doves soared intowhistling flight ahead of our approachdown the entire length of the road.Captain Whitlock left his name onmany landmarks in this area, as didmany fellow Army officers in the West.His forces pursued a band of cattle-stealing Apaches to the southern endof the valley: In the battle whichensued, the soldiers killed over 40braves, winning a decisive victory.This action stamped the Captain'sname on Whitlock Mountains, Whit-lock Peak, Whitlock Valley, WhitlockDraw and Whitlock Cienaga.Our second destination of the daywas the place where the mountainspinch in to form the draw. In a groupof straggly trees at the head of Whit-lock Draw and right next to the cien-aga (Spanish: "marsh" or "swamp"),stand the ruins of the old adobe housemarking the location of the formerWhitlock Cienaga Cattle Ranch.This ranch was begun in 1861, afew hundred yards from the scene ofthe Army's victory over the Apaches.William Charles located the spring at

the cienaga and founded the ranch.He sold it in 1882 to O. R. Smythe,who stocked the range with Mexicancattle.Skeletons were still scattered overthe battle site, and during Smythe'sfirst roundup two of his hands collectedthe bleached skulls and adorned thecorral poles with them as a joke.When riders brought the cattle in,the herd shied and refused to enter.Smythe rode up to ascertain thetrouble, and found himself facing acircle of grinning skulls. After laugh-ing with the boys at the joke, he is-sued orders for the burial of the grislydecorations.Frank Richardson bought the ranch,and sold it to W. John Parks in 1894.Two years later, Parks gave it to hissons, Jim and John, and moved to thewest side of the Whitlock range toestablish the 111 Ranch.The Parks boys put down a wellabout two miles east of the ranchhouse, and tapped a water supply sohot that it had to cool before the cattlewere able to drink it. Jim built a damacross the end of Whitlock Valley to

store the water. This reservoir isknown as Parks Lake. In 1954 itoverflowed, sending a head of waterdown Whitlock Draw which cut a deepchannel and uncovered the pipe wehad come to inspect.We stopped before the decayingadobe ranch house, built by Smythe,which has stoutly withstood the rav-ages of time. Three rooms are on theground floor, but the second storya fort-like 16-square-foot room linedwith port-holeshas melted away.The "original flour mills" are lo-cated in the black lava boulders out-cropping along the crown of the longhill immediately behind the house.Patches of hedgehog and prickly pearcactus frequently forced us to detourthrough the creosote bushes as we as-cended the hill. Chips of flint andclear obsidian disclosed ancient work-shop locations, and we also found afew scattered chalcedony roses.Near the summit we came to theround grinding holes in the dark grayrock . These cavities were still half-full of rain water from recent storms.No pestles were in sight. From oneO C T O B E R , 1 9 5 8 15


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Robert Layton and Melvin Taylor speculateon thedrama inprogressinthis natural theater complete with actorsin tableau.point I counted over 20 of these mor-tars. An industrious people hadoccu-pied this area at one time.Walking along thedeep wash in thewhite bottom of Whitlock Draw below,Darvil was onhis way tothe pipe whenI started down the hill after him. I

crossed the floor of thedraw, literallycovered with pottery shards of plainand fancy colors, and joined him andTerry Taylor in the bottom of thewash.A fewsteps down thesandy bottomwe came upon a short section of the

C a s h F o r D e s e r t P h o t o g r a p h s . . .- October on thedesert is a pleasant timesummer's heat is past,-winter's cold lies ahead. And it is an excellent month forpicture taking.The desert scenes you record in Octoberor any monthare wel-comed entries in Desert's photography contest.

Entries for the October contest must besent tothe Desert Magazineoffice. Palm Desert, California, and postmarked notlater than October1 8 . Winning prints will appear in theDecember issue. Pictures whicharrive toolate for onecontest areheld over for thenext month. Firstprize is $10; second prize $5. Fornon-winning pictures accepted forpublication $3 each will be paid.HERE ARE THE RULESIPrints must beblack and white. 5x7 orlarger, onglossy paper.

2Each photograph submitted should be fully labeled as to subject, timeandplace . Also technical data: camera, shutter speed, hour of day. etc.3PRINTS WILL BE RETURNED WHEN RETURN POSTAGE IS ENCLOSED.4Entries must be in theDesert Magazine office by the20th of thecontest month.5Contests areopen to both amateur andprofessional photographers. DesertMagazine requires first publication rights only ofprize winning pictures.6Time and place of photograph areimmaterial, except that it must be fromthedesert Southwest.7Judges will be selected from Desert's editorial staff, andawards will be madeimmediately after theclose of thecontest each month.

Address All Entries to Photo Editor"Desert PALM DESERT. CALIFORNIA

pipe. It was about six inches in diam-eter, with a one-inch hole through itscenter. As wecontinued on, wefoundlengths of the pipe barely uncovered,and we could trace its course for ashort distance before we came to aplace where it had washed out com-pletely.Who had laid thepipe? Settlers or

Indians? We speculated on its prob-able origin."It looks to me,"said Darvil, "asif a trench had been dug the exactsize of the pipe. The cement, or what-ever they used, could have been pouredinto the trench, and as soon as it setup hard enough, a sharp pointed spearwas pulled through its center to makethe hole. Look how lopsided theholeis in this section."So fascinated were we that littleattention waspaid to the dark cloudsgradually blotting out thewesternsky.We followed the pipe for half a mileor more, finding one spot where itwas 15 feet below the surface of theground.William R. Ridgeway of Saffordhas done some research on the pipe.He contacted members of the Parksfamily who had lived in this area foryears. They had no knowledge of thepipe. Chemical analysis revealed noPortland cement in the pipe. It wasmade from a volcanic material,poz-zuolana.We carried on ourexploration withthe enthusiasm of discoverers. Pipe

fragments are strewn allalong the washfloor. We searched and wespeculated,but themystery of thepipe's origin isno nearer solution. Perhaps someonewill come forward with the answer tothis riddle some day.My attention wascaught by a yel-low dust plume rising above the SanSimon flats. The day hadbeen warm,though overcast, and now signs of aquick change of weather were evident.We hurried to the pickup. Straybreezes began to whistle through thebrush, then the heavy wind hit witha blast of sand and dust. Gray wispsof clouds began to dangle over thehills and to reach for the surroundingpeaks. Wesecured thetent hood overthe truck bed as the first drops of rainspattered down.The storm was good to us. It mere-ly sprinkled as we hurried past thesection of road that would be slick ina rain; but as soon as we reached thepavement, thestorm pulled out all thestoppers.We were pleased with the outing.The prospects of a vast collecting areawas a worthwhile reward, and it will

be excuse enough to make many moretrips into the Whitlocks.16 DESERT MAGAZINE


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The Morrows of Oro Grande. From left, Harry, 77; Roy, 85; Jim, 83; andRaymond Victor "Penny," 72. Roy and Jim discovered and briefly worked theSlocum Mountain turquoise mine in 1898.

Lost Morrow Turquoise MineHere is a lost mine tale as told by the men who found the mineworked it abandoned it and when turquoise grew increasinglyprecious, made sev eral attempts to relocate it. But, they h av e neverbeen able to go back to itand so it remains there, somewhere in theMojave hills, awaiting a younger generation of prospectors.By EUGENE L. CONROTTO7IME, ARTHRITIS and a desire"not to carry that danged tur-quoise mine tale to our graves,"resulted in the disclosure of a 60-year-old secret by the Morrow brothers of

Oro Grande, California.The Morrows, Roy, 85; Jim, 83;Harry, 77; and Raymond Victor"Penny," 72; have made several un-successful attempts during these sixdecades to relocate a Mojave Desertturquoise mine the two eldest brothers,Roy and Jim, discovered in 1898.After working the mine for four weeks,they abandoned it because "turquoisewas no account in them days!"The mine's locale is on the westslope of Slocum Mountain, 26 mileseast and slightly south of Randsburg,and 30 miles north and slightly westof Barstow. The Moun tain is in theMorrow Mining District, named afterthe brothers' father, Newton Lamar-

tine Morrow, who came to Californiafrom Missouri in 1857. He was anearly judge and recorder in San Ber-nardino County.Today the area in which the minewas discovered lies along the southernborder of the U.S. Naval OrdnanceTest Station's B-Rangean exceed-ingly dangerous high explosive deto-nation ground. Persons desiring toenter this land must first obtain per-mission from the Security Office atN.O.T.S. at China Lake, California.Each case will be analyzed separately,and will be subject to daily changes insecurity attitudes, the Navy reported.This procedure has been established toprotect the lives of persons who mightbe interested in entering this danger-ous area.

John Barry, publisher of the VictorPress in Victorville, was the first per-son to whom the Morrows related their

story, and it was John who kindly toldme about the colorful Mojave pioneersand their lost bonanza.I dropped in on the Morrows on awarm day in April. Roy and Jim wereenjoying the sun, each sitting in frontof one of the two small bungalows onthe prope rty. These houses are behindthe Oro Grande business block Harryand Penny own.A neat lawn, nodding shade treesand a long view across grassy fieldsto the jumble of vegetation markingthe course of the Mojave River, givethe Morrow yard a pleasant and re-laxed atmosphere.Penny recently retired after beingin business for 50 years in this com-munity. He was Oro Grande's firstbarber. He owned the old miningtown's first automobile, and the com-munity's first phone was installed inhis home. For many years he was OroGrande's only peace officer.While Penny was in business, histhree brothers were mining and ranch-ing in this general vicinity. "Ro y heredug every hole in this country," ex-plained Penny with a laugh.Penny cooks and cleans house for

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N.O.T.S. M O J A V EtCOPPER CITY .

B-RANGE

\xStocum Camp

ToeaRSTOw

TO SAN BERNARDINO TO VICTORVIU-EJim, while Harry does the same forRoy. All the brothers are bachelors."We were working in Copper City,a good camp a couple of miles northof Slocum Mountain, when we madethat Turquoise strike," recalled Roy."Jim and I were riding by this lowridge on the west slope of the moun-tain when we spot this outcrop."It was eye-level. We dug in about10 feet under this ledge and blastedanother five. All we found were thesebig turquoise nuggets, but very littlecopper.""Turquoise was no account," saidHarry."It was positively no account,"Royagreed. There was a long silence ashis mind returned to Copper City in1898, then he rose andslowly hobbledacross the lawn to take a seat in theshade of a faded canvas umbrella nearwhere hispartner in this long-agoepi-sode, Jim, was seated."Jimmy," Roy said, "remember howthem Indians grabbed up all our tur-quoise samples?"Jim chuckled with the memory."Only the Indians andmaybe a cow-boy now and then had use for thatstuff," he said."Yes, there were plenty of Indiansin this country then," Roy continued."They wore lots of this turquoise ew-elry. Andlike Jim said, some of theboys liked it too, for saddle andbridleornaments.

"Well, we worked this ledge forthree-four weeks, hauled all this tur-quoise out, andwhen we saw it wasn't

going to pay, we left it. We wantedcoppernot turquoise.""We never did tell the story before,because wewanted to find it again,"commented Jim."We've tried off and on during allthese years. Every time turquoiseclimbed in market value, we'd tryharderbut we couldn't find Jim andRoy's mine." This time it was Harrywho spoke. "It's a tough lay-out,"he added."Yes," agreed Roy, "it's a toughlay-out. When we went back the lasttimethree years agowe couldn'teven find traces of theother oldwork-ings near the turquoise mine. In fact,we couldn't find the old tin cans thatwould have marked theSlocum Campat thesouth tip of that mountain.""The thing to find is that oldwagontrail from Slocum Camp to CopperCity wewere onwhen wespotted thatoutcropbut that is gone too.Seemsto me the mine was in lowhills, kindof at the bottom," said Jim. "Boy,the Indians went hog-wild with thoserocks!"Harry jumped to his feet and tookmy arm. "That's the boy that will getyou there," he said with enthusiasm,pointing to my jeep parked in thedusty roadway . "Th ere's five miles ofcountry and 10,000 gulches on thewest side of Slocum Mountain to becovered. It's a hard lay-out to find.A fellow has to go in with a jeep andsay to himself: Tm going to stay inthere a week and I'll find it'.""Did you boys ever think of flying

over the flank of that mountain?" Iasked."They wanted to take me over ina flying machine," said Penny, "but,heck, you couldn't find it that way.From the air that hill would look likea dried-up prune.""You're right, Pen," said Roy."What's happened is that the tunnelJim and me dug has been coveredwith sand, or an earthquake hasshookit closed. That's the only thing I canfigure. Still, seems like the mouth ofthat hole would bevisible yet. It's lowdown on the flank."The whole country looks like ithas changed, but probably it's mymemory that has done the changing.Nearest I can remember exactly isthat Jim and I were five miles southof Copper City when we found thatledge."Copper City, the boom town thatlured theMorrows into this area, wasthe scene of a high grade copper dis-covery in the late 1890s. About 1000persons worked the ore for a brieftime, but the smelters were too faraway to make it profitable to minelow grade. When the high grade orewas gone, the miners scattered. Thecamp was situated at thebase of PilotKnob, the principal landmark in thisvast desert territory. Only rubble re-mains at the Copper City site.A dirt road from Blackwater Wellto the so-called Barstow Road cuts

across the southern corner of the B-Range, and is themost accessible routeto the lost mine area. It roughly fol-18 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


19/44

lows the same trail the Morrows tookon their discovery trip.The road from Atolia leading east-ward toward Slocum Mountain is im-passable due to the military firingrange below Cuddeback Dry Lake.The trail from Granite Well to Sea-bergs Well east of Slocum is not pass-

able for standard cars and heavysands there give four - wheel - drivejeeps trouble. It should be emphasizedthat this area can only be entered withpermission of the military. Water canbe found at Granite Well and Black-water Well.The B-Range, which has beenlargely leased land, and territory im-mediately south of it is included inthe Navy's latest land expansion at-tempt. Total area involved is 180,-000 acres. San Bernardino Countyofficials are vigorously protesting theproposed land grab, as is the San Ber-nardino County Museum Association.Black and Inscription canyons, in-cluded in the area, were described bythe museum group as among the mostrewarding for prehistoric man studyon the Mojave Desert. These canyonsare part of the proposed Black CanyonState Park.The Navy claims it needs to extendits boundaries of the B-Range, whereguided missiles are being tested, toinsure against rockets straying beyondlimits of the bombing area.My conversation with the Morrowsdrifted to other mines, tenderfeet whocouldn't understand how anyone couldlose something as big as a mine, anda half-dozen related topics. Finallyit settled on Oro Grande's colorfulpast."How long have you lived in thismining town?" I asked Roy."Golly, boy, I've always been here!1 grew up with the hills!" he answered.This brought a delightful round oflaughter from his brothers.They were silent for a long timeafter that, poking their canes in the

grass as they savored Roy's remark.Finally, Penny spoke up."About that turquoise mine," hesaid, "it's a good one. Turquoise ismore valuable than silver today. We'dbe looking for it yet if we could getout there, but you go ahead and printthe story because now we never willfind it. Next time you come to OroGrande we'll all be up at the ceme-tery."The brothers laughed even harder atPenny's closing statement."Up at the cemetery," repeated Roywith a chuckle. "An d that dangedturquoise mine won't be on our mindsno more!"

The Spotted Night Snake

Spotted night snake likes rocky situations where it hunts its lizard prey. Itis very gentle and can be handled with ease. Brown ish spots on a yellow-gray ground color make up its markings.By GEORGE M. BRADT

7HE SPOTTED NIGHT snake(Hypsiglena ochrorhyncha) isof interest because of its salivawhich apparently has slightly poison-ous properties, probably used to helpit catch its lizard diet. It is a shortstocky species which, though infre-quently encountered, ranges from theNorthwest southward into California,Arizona, and Baja California. Its ver-tical pupils indicate that it is nocturnaldiurnal species have round pupils.Snakes can focus their eyes for va-rious distances, and have very goodvision, though probably only for rela-tively near objects. While their eyeshave no lids, protection is affordedby a transparent scale. This means,of course, that a snake must sleep withits eyes open.In addition to sight, the sense ofsmell is well developed in snakes.Touch, however, is more or less lim-ited, and taste and hearing are totallylacking. A snake can neither hear itsown rattling or hissing, nor the voiceof man or beast. They are advised ofthe presence of any enemy throughground vibrations perceived throughthe body. Neither can a snake tasteits food, but this is not surprising inan animal that swallows its prey whole.

The Crotalidae or pit vipers, a fam-ily of very venomous snakes includingrattlers, copperheads, water moccasinsand fer-de-lances characterized by thehollow or pit between eye and nostril,have an additional sensean amazingability to know direction and distanceof objects whose temperature is higherthan the rest of the surroundings. Thusthe high-temperature differential-recep-tor (the pit) is very valuable to crea-tures living largely on warm-bloodedprey.Because of their scaly skin, snakesare far less sensitive to touch thanother animals. Were it not for theirdelicate tongues their sense of touchwould be considered underdeveloped.This valuable organ is a feeler whichtells the snake about the ground ittraverses. A snake depends upon itssense of smell perhaps as much as uponvision. It literally smells its way throug hlife. Its principa l olfactory aid is itsbifurcated flicking tongue. While itselfnot an organ of smell, its forked tipspick up tiny particles and carry themto two little sensitive cell-lined pits orJacobson's organ located in front ofthe roof of the snake's mouth. It isclosely associated with the smellingareas in the nose.

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ON DESERT TRAILS W ITH A NAT URA LIST -- LIV

Gambel's Quail, also called Desert QuailBy EDMUND C. JAEGER, D.Sc.Curator of PlantsRiverside Municipal MuseumSketches by Morris Van Dame

YEARS AG O I stopped ata ranch set far back in a cozycanyon of the foothills of south-ern Arizona . Appropriately it wasnamed Tierra de Dios (God's coun-t ry) . Its owner told me how he hadbefriended a flock of Gambel's Quail,allowing them to feed with his domes-tic fowl. Each evening and morninghe said they came out from among thesurrounding low shrubs and rocks,drifting in gradually, always with duecaution but never without constantmedley of soft friendly notes. Whenevening came, I too, heard them, firstfar out, then at points nearer andnearer. First a few males, proudlydisplaying their beautiful rudderlikecrests, came forth and gave notes ofassurance that all was well. This en-

ticed the other members of the flockto the place of feeding.Soon my rancher friend went to asmall shed and came forth with a panof wheat. The dem eanor of the birdswas immediately one of great expec-tancy and eagerness. When the grainwas strewn, the original number ofbirds was augmented by dozens more.They seemed to be coming in fromeverywhere, and soon there must havebeen more than 200 of the gorgeoustrim bodied birds all scurrying aboutlike mechanical toys among the barn-yard chickens, who now too were com-ing in from many places to be on handto share in the evening feast.

What a sight it was! Said ranche rJones, "I've had the pleasurable com-pany of these quail for several yearsnow. Every bird seems to know thatI am its good friend and trusts meimplicitly. Come this March and theywill be off in the mesquite bush, mat-ing, laying eggsthey lay up to 15 or

The desert has its own speciesof quail one of m a n y varietiesfound all around the world. It is afriendly, trusting bird where it findshuman kindness but also verycautious because it has learnedthat mankind is more often enemythan friend.

FriendlyBirds ofthe Brush20, you know and hatching theiryoung. And then proud plumedmales and hens along with their fuzzyspeckled young will shortly thereafterbe here again enjoying my hospitality.Choice guests they are, every one ofthem, and I tell you right now I'd nomore let anyone come in on my ranchand shoot one of those little boardersthan I'd think of letting them raise agun on my children! No sir, I'd neverbetray that wonderful trust they havein me. The companionship I have withall those handsome birds is one of thevery greatest things in my life. I usedto be a great quail hunter but sinceI've had this experience with thesebirds, I can never hunt quail again."Among this handsome lot of Gam-bel's Quail I noticed a bobtailed mid-get quail only about seven inches longa rather "busier than usual little fel-low" and of quite different appearance.It was livelier than the other birds inmaking its way around among the hensand cockerels.

"Oh, that's my little Coturnix," saidJones. "It's the common EuropeanQuail. A friend of mine sent it to mewith five others from Italy. This is theonly one of the lot that survived thelong journey. It is a hen. I am soproud and fond of her. I do wish Icould get hold of a male so I couldraise birds of this kind too."It is a common belief that Gambel'sQuail require water every day. Thoseof us who travel widely over the des-ert wastelands know well enough thatthese hardy birds are quite often foundfar from any possible source of waterand that they get along quite well withonly berries of the leafless mistletoe,occasional bits of green vegetation and


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insects as their source of fluids. In -deed, they drink at the water holes ifthey can, but certainly they are not asdependent on free water as most otherquail are. Of course the coveys aremuch more frequent in country withsprings than out on the waterless scrub-desert.The chicks of Gambel's Quail likethose of all quail are precocious littlethings, running about as soon as theybreak from the egg but not "with halfshells on their backs" as some havesaid."In a few days," said the eminentornithologist, Dr. Elliott Coues, "theybecome very nimble and so expert inhiding that it is difficult either to see

wings well, they prefer to run andhide, or squat where they may be whenalarmed. If then forced u p, the youngcovey flies off, without separating, alittle distance, often realighting on thelower limbs of trees or in bushes,rather than on the ground."In the western borders of its rangein California, G ambel's Q uail are foundin Upper Sonoran arid mountain bor-ders where pinyons and desert junipershare the landscape with agaves andcreosote bushes. There is often quitea mingling of this bird with the largerhandsome long - plumed MountainQuail (Oreortyx plumifera). At timeseven a third partridge, the closely re-lated California Valley Quail (Lophor-

not only this quail but also a goose(Anser gambeli), the handsome songsparrow (Zonotrichia gambeli), themountain chickadee (Penthestes gam-beli) and a shrike (Lanius ludovici-anus gambeli) of California, BajaCalifornia and western Mexico.Many years ago when I had the rarepleasure of camping near a spring onthe north slopes of the Santa RosaMountains with the naturalist Dr.Joseph Grinnell, he called to my atten-tion one morning a female Gambel'sQuail with twelve of her half grownyoung; and feeding with her were eightgrown Valley Quail. He said he hadbeen watching such a common flock-ing together of the two species in sum-

Mearns' Quailor catch them. When the mother birdis surprised with her young brood, shegives a sharp warning cry, that is wellunderstood to mean danger, and thengenerally flies a little distance to someconcealed spot where she crouches,anxiously watching. The fledglin gs, byan instinct instantly scatter in all di-rections, and squat to hide as soon asthey think they have found a safeplace, remaining motionless until thereassuring notes of the mother callthem together again. Then they hud-dle close around her, and she care-fully leads them off to some other spotfor greater security. As long as theyrequire the parent's attention they keepclose together and are averse to flying.Even after becoming able to use their

Scaled Quail, or Cottontoptyx calijornica), may add its clearflute-like notes to those of the othertwo birds.The name Gambel's Quail was givenin deference to the brilliant but short-lived young Philadelphian, WilliamGambel (1819-49), who as protegeof the ornithologist, Thomas Nuttal,became one of America's early trans-continental travelers, assiduous collec-tor and writer on birds, particularlyCalifornia birds. He died along theSacramento River of typhoid fever inhis thirtieth year while trying to crossto the High Sierra. Unfortunately aflood later swept over the site of hisgrave and today we have no knowledgeof the exact place of his demise orburial. In Gambel's honor was named

mer in a number of other places; alsothat he had seen matings between thetwo kinds of quail with resulting hy-bridization.In the arid chaparral covered areas,in dry washes and mesquite borderedarroyos of the Rio Grande Valleyof Texas, in southeastern Colorado,southward into New Mex ico,; south-eastern Arizona and along the Mexi-can Plateau to the Valley of Mexicois found the Scaled Quail (Callipeplasquamata), so called because the blu-ish gray plumage, particularly of theunderparts, simulates in its markings

imbricated scales or tiles. Other ap-propriate names are Cottontop be-cause of the soft, trim, white-tipped,O C T O B E R , 1 9 5 8 . 21


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tufted crest of this delicately coloredbird, and Blue Quail.This species is a heavy seed-eater,particularly of the small seeds ofweeds. This food habit makes us eval-uate it along with the mourning doveas a most valuable bird-citizen, worthyof protection at all times. Moreover,it is a great and exemplary devourerof insects, one-fourth of its diet con-sisting of them. It eats also greengrass blades, berries and cactus fruitswhich may, in part, be a substitute forwater. Like Gambel's Quail, withwhich it ofttimes consorts, the ScaledQuail is sometimes found up to sevenand eight miles from water; but theymake very regular visits to water if itis available.These are remarkably vigilant andshy birds and I know from experience,most excellent dodgers. They seemalways to be on the alert and prefer

running to flight, dodging in and outamong the vegetation as Dr. ArthurC. Bent says "like so many rabbits offto the nearest brier patch. They aresoon lost to sight for they can runfaster than we can and will not flush."It is not without a certain feeling ofdejection that I write about that mostbeautiful and bizarre appearing of our

quail, Mearns' Partridge (Cyrtonyxmontezumae mearnsi) once prouddenizen of the higher grassland desertsand lower open pine forests of NewMexico, central Arizona and northernSonora. If not now extinct in its wildhabitat it is almost so. Its gentle andconfiding ways, its affectionate dispo-sition, unsophistication and lack ofsuspicion of modern man's atavisticavidity to kill for sport has been itsdownfall. It earned the name of FoolQuail because it is so easy to kill,even with clubs.This is a fairly large sized bird(length nine inches) with unusual con-trasting markings especially on thehead. The males are strikingly streakedabove with black, reddish and yellow-ish brown; below they are red andgray. The wings are marked withround black spots, and the flanks,which are almost black, are in contrast

attractively spotted with white. Theplainer females have in addition barsof lavender above and areas of laven-der brown below. The beak is stoutand the strange harlequin-patternedhead is surmounted by a soft crest offeathers which on occasion can bespread laterally.Mearns' Quail is a ground nester.

H A R D R o c k S h o r t yof Death Valley"The road up the CyclonePass?" echoed Hard Rock Shortyin answer to the usual touristquestion. "Sure, it's a good road maybe a mite rough but 'slong as yu got a top on that sta-tion wagon they ain't no dangerof yu bouncin' out."Better'n some roads I've seenin my time," Shorty added inreminiscence."Now you take that road mean' Pisgah built up Eight Ballcrick to that sulphur claim westaked out back in the 'nineties.Why that road would jar the tailfeathers off'n a road runner."Yu see we cleared the road bypryin' the boulders outa thatconglomerate in the floor of thecanyon. But nearly every rockwas buried deeper'n it snowed,

and when we got through the

holes wuz worse than the bumps'd been."Well we didn't want t' giveup a road we'd put so muchwork on, so we hauled our sup-plies over it till the burros got sothey could jump like jackrabbits.They wuz other bad features too.The canned beans that bouncedin over that trail got to jumpin'and never stopped. When weopened a can we had to knock'em down with fly-swatters.

"But we finally had t' give itup. Pisgah Bill balked. Tha twas the day he was haulin' a300-pound anvil up to the minein the buckboard. He hit an extrabig hole and the anvil bouncedup and killed a buzzard flyin'overhead. The bird landed onBill's new 10-gallon hat an' sortamade a mess of it. He ain 't beenover that road since."

Unlike most species it often makes aconcealed nest entrance, partially arch-ing it over with grasses.D r . E d g a r A l e x a n d e r M e a r n s(1856-1916) in whose honor this birdwas named was a member of theUnited States-Mexican Boundary Sur-vey (1891-1894) and later (1907)

author of A Report on the Mammalsof the Mexican B oundary of the UnitedStates. He traveled widely over thesouthwestern deserts gathering inter-esting notes and specimens of naturalhistory and ethnology. During hiswork on the boundary line about 30,-000 specimens of plants and animalswere collected and transmitted to theU.S. National Museum. These illus-trated the changes in the animals andplants in the various faunal areasthrough which the expedition passed.Fifty or more new species of animalsand plants have been named in Dr.Mearns' honor as well as three genera,a rather unusual distinction. It is saidthat his active love of natural historybegan when as a boy of three hisfather presented him with a large illus-trated book of birds. His mother spentmany hours teaching him the birdnames an d histories as he avidly lookedat the pictures.

The fine clear flute-like notes of allthe American quail are always mostappealing and once heard, unforget-table. The notes of the proud m alesare especially noteworthy. How manyare the spring mornings when I've beenawakened by the penetrating matingcall of the Gambel cock "Yuk-kae-ja,yuk-kae-ja," the alarm note, a sharpdiscordant "craer, craer," or the as-sembling cry, "qua-el, qua-el" oftenfollowed by the rapidly uttered con-tented "quoit." So pleasing too is thelengthened "chip-churr, chip-churr" ofthe Scaled Quail.From the great variety of these criesand pleasing conversational notes, theirmany knowing gestures and behaviorwhen faced with unusual situations,we must account quail among the mostintelligent of birds. They are indeedcapable of mental activities of a veryhigh order. Moreover, they show un-usual appreciation of kindness andwill reward us with their great confi-dence if given oppo rtunity. How un-fortunate that this fine bird must sufferso often at the hands of human preda-tors and that so frequently they arekilled by gunners, or wounded andleft to perish in the misery of hunger,thirst and pain. It is quite possiblethat most of our least prolific andhardy species of quail may yet "be

completely annihilated under the grind-ing hob-nailed hoof of so-called civil-ized man."22 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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Gam bel's Qu ailOne of the Southwest's favoriteinhabitants is the Gambel's Quail.Many persons who live in ruralareas delight in a nightly ritual ofwatching these birds dash in to feedon scr ap s left out for them. TheNature article by Dr. Edmund C.Jaeger in this issue features theseand other desert quail.John F. Kahle, M.D., of Flagstafftook this first prize photograph of amale Gambel's quail with a LinhofSuper Technica 4x5 camera on SuperPan Press Type B film; exposed with200 WS Synctron Electronic Flash

with extension head at f. 22 with150 mm. Schneider Xenar lens.

P i c t u r e s of t h e M o n t h

Through the years the great vol-canic core in the background of thesecond award photograph, and com-panion formations in colorful Monu-ment Valley have become symbolsof the Desert Southwest alongwith the Saguaro and Joshua trees,bleached skulls and defiant cacti.The Mitten was photographed byCharles Bodenstein of Santa Monica,California. Ca me ra data : Leica III-F camera with Summaron 35 mm.wide-angle lens; 1/500 sec. at f. 11;Plus X film; K-2 yellow filter.

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MOJAVE SOLITUDEBy HELENA RIDGWAY STONESouth Pasadena, CaliforniaIn animmensity ofsun and sky,Through endless gray-green desert solitude,Past mountains, mesa, canyon walls scaledhigh,The train drones on. While I, in pensivemoodDrink in this beauty with each changingglance.

Here is a landscape quite as itwas made:No subdivision mars its wide expanse,Nor tall skyscrapers cast their angled shade.Yet, inthis grandeur I can feel a throbOf longing, for my city and its mob. KINSHIP

By FLORETTA BARNARD VANDERBILTClaremont, CaliforniaI stand upon my mother, EarthAnd gaze atCousin Hill;For dust I am, and kin totheseEach rock, each mountain rill!Perhaps that's why I feel solostUpon a city streetWhere man-made canyon walls rear tallMy joy to quench, my spirit cheat.But here upon the desert floor,So close toEarth beloved,I hold re-union with my soulCommune with God above!

Photograph by Lloyd WilliamsSKY VIEWBy GRACE R. BALLARDSanta Barbara, California

There's acrack inmy wallWhere a star shines through;A nd atiny patch ofsky;While the winds ofheavenFind entrance there when the stormClouds hasten by.Let me beunawareOf the crack inthe wallMay my vision focus far;That cognizant ofeternal Truth,I see but the skyAnd the Star.

By TANYA SOUTHNo man loves freedom morethan I.Yet can I honestly denyThe other fellow any rightsThat I may live unto my lights?True freedom, tobe really such,Must mean no trampling and nocrutch.

By BUTLER STERLING HARKINSOxnard, CaliforniaOu t of your ancient swirls, OhFallen One,Grained pinyons trail upon a wavelesssea,Where brimming rivers beneath a thirstysunOnce swept in channels of curved majesty;Where lava spewed from cinder-cones offire,Young mountains buckled, riven clouds wereflung,Quenching cycads and thedinosaur's desireWhile earth up-bulged and jagged faultsup-sprung.Yet Beauty reigned, andhope within hergrewThat One would recognize her great design,Would worship art as ifHe also knewThe form which tempts the soul is, too,divine.Oh Fallen One, Darkness still precedes thedawnBut man awakes, tocontemplate a swan.

ONE DESERT NIGHTBy ALICE RICHARDS SALISBURYBarstow, CaliforniaThe night about us sighed and stirredWith furtive desert life that layWithin the quivering dark; we heardCoyotes faint and far-away;From milling herd came drowsy lows;An owl boomed out anechoing call.Remote and black, the mountains roseLike ramparts ofthe Chinese wall;A tang ofsage, the warmth ofsandLong-drenched insun, up-drifted lightAbout us. Hand inanswering hand,Our pulses rhymed with pulsing nightThe while we lingered, mute, intense,Until the moon atfull should swimMajestic, tawny-orange, immense.From up behind the mountain's r im! TRY GOD'S COUNTRYBy HAROLD PATCHPerkinsville, VermontOh where can I go toescape the rush;And the ceaseless wear and tear;And the daily strife of a city lifeThat isrubbing my raw nerves bare?

Come out in the country that God hasmade,Where the mountains, wave on wave,Keep the watch atnight o'er your campfirebright,And bring you the peace you crave.Or perchance, if the desert calls you,Explore itsspaces deep;Where thecoyote's song through the eve-ning longWill lullaby you tosleep. DESERT MOODS

By H E L E N M. G I L BE RTSanta Ana, CaliforniaI have known the desert atdawning,A wilderness stark and bold,Stood humbled by he splendor of sunriseA vision inpearl and gold.I have known its heat atnoon-day,Its scorching, whipping sandThat beckoned with withered fingersTo death in adesolate land.And once, on amoon-drenched sand dune,I found beauty, shimmering white,Enfolded indelicate petalsA primrose blooming atnight.

24 DESERT MAGAZINE

Beauty's Vigel

Freedom


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Mr. Packer who protects hishome w ith cactus spines. Photo by Harold Weight.LIFE ON THE DESERTCactus Spines for Survival...

Mother Nature put the spines on the cactus to insure its survivalin a land where thirsty rodents would like to have access to its watersupply. Butthose vicious thorns also contribute to the survival of atleast onespecies of therodent family. ForNature students here is aninteresting lesson inecology.By W. I. LIVELY

CABIN wasbuilt on a hill-r e a r f * grested on the ground, whilethe front waselevated on boulders toa height of twofeet or more. Withoutrealizing it, I had created a pack ratparadise.I had barely finished building andmoved in, when scampering soundsunder the floor made me wonder ifanother tenant had taken possessionof thebasement. Lying on the groundand peering under the floor joists, Isaw a pile of cholla cactus spines andironwood twigs. From a runway underthe debris, a pair of bright eyes re-garded meboldly, as if to say, "Well,what are you going to do about it?"There wasn't much I could do,even ifI had wanted to, which I did not. Iwas more interested in studying mytenants than in evicting them.By quietly watching them I discov-ered that there were at least a pair ofthem . They were very much alike,except that the male was larger thanthe female. Themissus was shy andO C T O B E R , 1958

retiring, the more so perhaps fromthe fact that a family seemed to bein theoffing. They were a fawn coloron the back and sides, shading to avery light gray, almost white, under-neath. Their fur was fine and silky,fastidiously brushed and groomed.They were miniature replicas of akangaroo, which accounts for theircommon name of kangaroo rat. Theirfront legs were short, while the rearones were long and powerful. Theirmode of locomotion was not by run-ning, but by short hops andlong leaps.I have seen themale leap six or eightfeet while running, and rise two feetstraight up in the air from a standingstart.The long tail ended in a tuft of silkyfur, much longer on themale than thefemale. This seemed to be their pointof vanity, for they were very assiduousin grooming it, using paws, teeth andtongue in the process. The male,especially, seemed to take pride inflauntin g this beauty tuft, expendingon it thecare andvanity that themale

of the human species bestows on hismustache.I marvelled at the rapidity withwhich the pile of cactus spines grew.One morning I glanced through thewindow and caught the male in theact of adding to the store. Thechollacactus grows a main stalk from threeto six feet in height, then branchesou t in a series of loosely jointed tufts,from as large as a golf ball to the sizeof a tea cup. These nodules are cov-ered with exceedingly sharp spines.When these enter the flesh, the outerfibers curl back, forming a fish hookeffect when they arepulled out.Need-less to say, the pulling out process isvery painful.When mature, these spiny nodulesdetach themselves and fall to theground, take root and form otherplants. Many times, from lack ofmoisture, or proper contact with thesoil, they fail to take root, and dryup andblow away. In this condition,they are the kangaroo rat's treasuretrove.On this occasion I watched my ten-ant recover one of these tufts. Hecarefully worked his snout in amongthe spines until he had attained a se-cure grip. He then raised the tuftfrom the ground, keeping his headturned sideways to give him a clearview of his path, and carried it, with

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short careful leaps, to his home underthe floor. From that time he bore thename of "Packer," and he surely livedup to it.There seemed to be but one open-ing into the mass of rubbish. Thiswas a burrow just deep enough in thedirt to allow passage beneath thespines. I am sure that farther backthis burrow branched into a numberof runs. It was only when Packe r wasoutside that I could see th

195810 desertmagazine 1958 october

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