193711 Desert Magazine 1937 November[1]

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THE

M A G A Z I N E

NOVEMBER, 1937 25 CENTS


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G I V E . . .A Y e a r of P l e a s u r e . . .to your desert-loving friendsat Christmas time.. . . with a year's subscrip-tion to theDESERT MAGAZINE

We are more than gratified at the enthusiastic and en-couraging response which you and your neighborsexpressed when the Desert Magazine was placed onsale for the first time last month. We are convinced thatyou are proud of the magazine and that you like toshow it to your friends.

PersonalityScienceHistoryTravelogsDevelopmentHobbiesNatureMiningFictionHomesBooksComment. . . and manyother featureseach month.

You can find no better gift expressing the spirit of the desert you love than asubscription to this magazinesent to your friend at Christmas time.On receipt of your subscription remittance we will send an acknowledge-ment to you and we will prepare a gift card which will arrive at your friend'saddress at Chris tmas t ime.Just print or typewrite the names on a sheet of paper, together with yourname as donor and send it with your check to the DESERT MAGAZINE,El Cen t r e Calif.

ONE SUSCRIPTION (Regular rate), yearMailed in the United States or possessions.TWO or more GIFT SUBSCRIPTIONS, each one yearYour own subscription may be included in this combinationrate. Foreign subscriptions, add 40 cents each.

.$2.50

T H E "PiPlLm z i n E


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DESERT

(2a.LenJ.cLtfor November

Civic groups in the desertarea are invited to use this col-umn for announcing fairs, ro-deos, conventions and otherevents which have more thanmere local interest. Copy mustreach the Desert Magazine bythe 5th of the month precedingpublication. There is no chargefor these announcements.

OCTOBER 27Deer sea-son opens in Kaibab forest.Closes November 15.OCTOBER 29, 30, 31California newspaper editorsassemble at Lone Pine in Inyocounty as guests at three-dayprogram marking the openingof the new Mt. Whitney-DeathValley highway.OCTOBER 31Nevada cel-ebrates its 73rd birthday.NOVEMBER 12Indianfestivities mark observance ofSt. James day at TesuquePueblo, New Mexico.NOVEMBER 12Fiesta ofSan Diego at Jemez Pueblo,New Mexico.NOVEMBER 14Season

opens for quail hunters inArizona. Closes December 15.NOVEMBER 15Seasonopens for quail hunters in allCalifornia desert areas. ClosesDecember 31.NOVEMBER 15Open sea-son for deer, wild turkey andbear closes in Arizona.(Opened October 15).NOVEMBER 16Twenty-day season for Elk huntersopens in Arizona. Limited to300 resident and 50 non-resi-dent permits.NOVEMBER 17, 18, 19, 20Spanish Fiesta days sponsoredby Elks lodge at Yuma, Ari-zona.NOVEMBER 18, 19, 20, 21Annual Helzapopin celebra-tion at Buckeye, Arizona.NOVEMBER 22Annualmeeting of Highway 66 asso-ciation at Amarillo, Texas.NOVEMBER 27Openingof 30-day duck season author-ized by Presidential proclama-tion.

Vol. I NOVEMBER, 1937 No. 1COVERCALENDARPOETRYEDITORIALNATURESCIENCEPERSONALITYHISTORYTRAVELOGARTPHOTOGRAPHERTRAVELOGMININGDEVELOPMENTLANDMARKSFICTIONSNAP FANSHOMENEWSSENTIMENTBOOKSCOMMENTADVERTISERS

Sunset photo of Sahuaro taken near ApacheJunction, Arizona 1Current events in the desert country 3The Desert, God's Garden of PeaceNELLIE N. COFFMAN 4There Are Two Deserts 5No. 1 Adventurer of the DesertDON ADMIRAL 6The Desert Under a MicroscopeJ. WILSON McKENNEY 7He Helps Keep the Chuckawalla Desert DryRANDALL HENDERSON 9"Bold Emory"J. WILSON McKENNEY 10Looking Down from Nevada's 12,000-foot OasisRANDALL HENDERSON 12Navajo ShepherdessPHOTO BY WM. M. PENNINGTON 14The Feel of the DesertJOHN STEWART MacCLARY 15Lost Tree in a Lonely LandLILLIAN BOS ROSS 16LuckPlus BrainsJONATHAN BART 18For This Army8000 Grubbing HoesLARRY D. WOLMAN 20Who Knows the Story of This Arizona Land-mark?Prize Contest 22Sez Hardrock ShortyLON GARRISON 23Prize Photograph Contest 24Sandstone Home 25Here and There on the Desert 30The ProspectorJEFF WORTH 34Reviews with a Southwest Background 35Just Between You and MeTHE EDITOR 38(Bless 'Em) 21 to 40

The Desert Magazine is publi shed monthly by Randa ll Henderson and J. Wilson McKenney, aco -p a r tn e rsh i p , at 597 State Street, El Cenrro, California. Application for entry as second classmatter is p e n d i n g .Title r e g i s t e r e d , contents copy rig hted 1937 by the Desert Magazine. Permission to reproducecontents must be secured from the editor in w r i t i n g . Subscr ipti on rate $2.50 a year. Copy 25 cents.

Editor: Randall HendersonBusiness Manager : J. Wilson McKenneyAdvertising Manager : Fred Kraft, Jr.

National Advertising Representatives: S. H. Williams & Co., Inc., Los Angeles, San Francisco,C h i c a g o , New York.Manuscripts and photographs submitted must be accompanied with full return postage. TheDesert Magazine assumes no responsibility for damage or loss of manuscripts or photographs althoughdu e care will be exercised for the ir safety.Subscribers should send notice of change of address with new and old address and should bereceived by the circulation department the first of the month preceding i ssue.

N o v e m b e r , 1937


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God s Garden of PeaceGod gave to mankind the beauties of earth,Of mountains, and lowlands and sea,Rivers and lakes, forests and glades,These wondrous gifts gave He.But He kept for His own a GardenRugged, forbidding, austere,Surrounded by peaks upliftedSnow-capped throughout the year.And He draped it with marvelous colorsAt dawn and at set of sun,And hung high in the sky the wonderful starsTo light it when day is done.And He walks in His Garden at twilightAnd all who would have surceaseFrom life's toil and struggle, may find itIn the Desert, God's Garden of Peace.NELLIE N. COFFMANPalm Springs.PHOTO B Y FR ASHER S. I NC.


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(EDITORIAL)

O NE IS A GRIM desolate wasteland. It is the home ofvenomous reptiles and stinging insects, of viciousthorn-covered plants and trees, and of unbearableheat. This is the desert seen by the stranger speeding alongthe highway, impatient to be out of "this damnable coun-try." It is the desert visualized by those children of luxuryto whom any environment is unbearable which does notprovide all of the comforts and services of a pamperingcivilization. It is a concept fostered by fiction writers whodramatize the tragedies of the desert for the profit it willbring them.But the stranger and the uninitiated see only the mask.The other Desertthe real Desert-is not for the eyes ofthe superficial observer, or the fearful soul or the cynic.It is a land, the character of which is hidden except to thosewho come with friendliness and understanding. To thesethe Desert offers rare gifts: health-giving sunshinea skythat is studded with diamondsa breeze that bears nopoisona landscape of pastel colors such as no artist canduplicatethorn-covered plants which during countlessages have clung tenaciously to life through heat and

drought and wind and the depredations of thirsty animals,and yet each season send forth blossoms of exquisite color-ing as a symbol of courage that has triumped over terrify-ing obstacles.To those who come to the Desert with friendliness, itgives friendship; to those who come with courage, it givesnew strength of cha racte r. Those seeking relaxa tion findrelease from the world of man-made troubles. For thoseseeking beauty, the Desert offers nature's rarest artistry.This is the Desert that men and women learn to love.

. . . cne is grim, desolateN o v e m b e r , 1 93 7

. . . one is fascinating, mysterious . . .

N EARLY every creed and industry and locality hasits journalexcept the Desert. Here, within the boun-daries of Arizona, California, Nevada, New Mexicoand Utah resides a great family of human beingsthehighest type of American citizenshipwith a common heri-tage of environment and interest and opportunity, yetresiding for the most part in regions that are remote fromthe so-called cultural centers.This is the last great frontier of the United States. It willbe the purpose of the Desert Magazine to entertain andserve the people whom desire or circumstance have broughtto this Desert frontier. But also, the magazine will carry asaccurately as possible in word and picture, the spirit of thereal Desert to those countless men and women who havebeen intrigued by the charm of the desert, but whose homesare elsewhere. * * *This is to be a friendly, personal magazine, written forthe people of the Desert and their friendsand insofar aspossible, by Desert people. Preference will be given to thosewriters and artistsyes, and poetswhose inspirationcomes from close association with the scented greasewood,the shifting sand dunes, the coloring of Desert landscapes,from precipitous canyons and gorgeous sunsets.The Desert has its own traditionsartliteraturein-dustry and commerce. It will be the purpose of the DesertMagazine to crystallize and preserve these phases of Desertlife as a culture distinctive of arid but virile America. Wewould give character and personality to the pursuits ofDesert peoplescreate a keener consciousness of the heri-tage which is theirsbring them a little closer together ina bond of pride in their Desert homes, and perhaps breakdown in some measure the prejudice against the Desertwhich is born of misunderstanding and fear.It is an idealistic goal, to be sure, but without vision theDesert would still be a forbidding wastelanduninhabitedand shunned. The staff of the Desert Magazine has under-taken its task with the same unbounded confidence whichhas brought a million people to a land which once wasregarded as unfit for human habitation.We want to give to the folks who live on the Desertand to those who are interested in the Desertsomethingthat will make their lives a little happier and a little finersomething worthwhile. In the accomplishment of thispurpose we ask for the cooperation and help of all friendsof the Desert everywhere.

RANDALL HENDERSON,J. WILSON MCKENNEY.Publishers.


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A DVENTURING into lands so arid that no other shrubcan survive, the Creosote bush, or common greasewood,is entitled to carry the banner as No. 1 plant of thedesert region.While other members of the great family of desert florafalter and shrivel before the merciless onslaught of heat andsandstorm and drought, the lowly greasewood wages aconstant battle of advance and retreatand generally isthe victor.To the Indians, the Creosote was a medicine for manyailments. But since the white man prefers to buy his heal-ing potions from the corner drug store in capsules andbottles, his arrival in the desert has left the Creosote un-molested except when it interferes with the clearing ofhomesteads or the building of roads.Perhaps there should be one exception to this last asser-tion. The unfortunate motorist who finds himself miredin the depths of a desert sand dune finds the greasewooda rough but ready friend in time of need.In the hot dry desert outposts the Creosote shrub is small,tough, wiry, and with but few leaves. In more favoredlocalities its vital strength brings forth a large stately bushof wand-like branches covered with shiny olive-green leaves,and in season a multitude of yellow blossoms. The petals,which are turned like the blades of a windmill, give wayto fluffy little balls of cotton in which the seeds are housed.Under exceptionally favorable conditions the Creosotemay grow to a height of 12 or 15 feet. More commonly itis from five to eight feet.

Creosote bush, or greasewood as i t iscommonly known, i s the ha rd ies t andmost com mo n of a l l desert shrub s. Thisstory of the Creosote is written by DonAdmiral to give desert folks a more inti-mate acquaintance with one of theirneig hbo rs of the plant world. Other des ertshrubs wil l be described by Mr. Admiralin future issues of the Desert Magazine.

By DON ADMIRALDesert scientist of Palm Springs

A/o. I [email protected] most desert plants, the Creosote is a rugged indivi-dualist. It never crowds its neighbors, nor perm its themto invade its own little domain. Visitors on the desert oftencomment on the comparatively uniform spacing betweenthe plantsalmost as if they had been planted. There arescientific reasons for this, having to do with the root sys-tems and moisture supply. We humans might learn some-thing from this desert plant.Bearing out the assertion that the Creosote is the No. 1shrub of the desert, the Arizona State Planning board haspublished a botanical table showing that this bush growsover 37 per cent of the state's area. Sage ranks next witha total area of five per cent. There ar e some areas of coursein which the two plants intermingle. Creosote is found inArizona from sea level to an elevation of 3,000 feet andis dominant over about 27 million acres of the state.Larrea divaricata is the scientific name given by Munznow quite generally accepted. The genus name Larrea is inhonor of a Spaniard, de Larrea. The species name divaricatarefers to the twined characteristic of the leaves. Previousclassifications include Larrea glutinosa, Engelmann; Co-villea glutinosa, Rydberg; Larrea Mexicana, Moric; Larrea

tridentata, Coville.Creosote bush is the generally accepted common name.Greasewood is also used but is not so distinctive for thereason that this term is also applied to other desert shrubs.Among the Mexicans it is Hediondilla, and Father Fontfrequently refers to it by this name in his diary of theAnza expedition.Prehistoric dwellers on the desert found many usefulpurposes for the shrub. The gum from its twigs was usedto cement arrows and to mend ollas. Tea brewed from itsleaves was regarded as a cure for stomach disorders andrheumatism, and as an antiseptic for wounds.Recently, a cowman in the Vallecito region told me thathe had seen the old Indians use a concoction brewed fromthe foliage as a hair tonic. "And did you ever see a bald-headed Indian?" he asked by way of clinching his point.The DESERT MAGAZINE


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AticzoicopeDr. Forrest Shreve and his staff at the DesertLaboratory near Tucson are prying into the

secrets of desert plant life.

H ERE, THOUGHT I, is where I canunloose all those stored-up ques-tions about desert life. Here be-fore me is the man who knows all theanswers. Questions came flying to mylips."Why doesn't the giant sahuaro growwest of the Colorado river?" I heardmyself asking.I had heard this matter of the sa-huaros much debated and had alwaysbelieved that the giant cactus grew onlyon Arizona soil until I had stalked afew lonely specimens north of Picachoand others along the Riverside moun-tains on the California side of the river.But as a general rule this picturesquecactus, bearing Arizona's state flower,marches down to the edge of the Colo-rado River and there abruptly halts.

"They just don't like the Californiaair," the Wise Man answered with amischievous twinkle in his eye. Thenafter a short pause during which Iblinked my eyes in astonishment, headded, "And then again, it may be thatefficient California border patrol."This was too much. I had come to

Tucson to talk with a scientist, scholar,

By J. WILSON McKENNEYmusty pedagog, and here I found a tall,friendly out-of-doors man with a senseof hum or. I began to be very glad Ihad come to see Dr. Forrest Shreve inthe Desert Laboratory on the slope ofTumamoc hill."But seriously", the Director con-tinued, "we believe Cereus giganteuswill not thrive in the Colorado and Mo-jave deserts because these regions donot have sufficient rainfall in the hotsummer months to germinate the seeds.Some desert plants germinate in thewinter, but not the sah uaro . Its seedmust have both heat and moisture. InArizona we have an average of twelveinches of rainfall a year, over half ofit in the hottest summer months, whileCalifornia desert regions get less thanfour inches a year, very little of whichfalls in summer. The river simply addsa final deciding barrier over which fewof the sahuaros can hurdle."

A friendly vibrant voice this man hadForrest Shreve, scientist of the desert,who for more than 30 years has record-

ed his findings on Sonoran plant lifein this massive stone house on Tu-mamoc hill. Tall and thin, he has thehead of a scholar and the bearing of anout-of-doors man: he seems somehowto combine the roles of philosopher andprospector.Dr. Shreve turned from his study ta-ble at the far side of a large well-lighted room and advanced toward mequickly. Cordially he seated me and re-sumed his place before the orderly ta-ble, lighting his ancient pipe leisurely,suggesting comfortably that we shouldhave lunch with his wife and the staffbefore we got down to the serious busi-ness of discussing his work at thelaboratory.Arizona sunlight poured through themany windows, falling on orderly rowsof bookcases, charts, graphs, photo-graphs, and scientific instruments. No-where was there evidence of the cob-webby mustiness which, in the lay-man's mind, is an essential element ofthe pedagog's workshop.I turned toward the spacious win-dows to look down on the roofs andspires of Tucson and the brown bulk ofthe Santa Catalina mountains beyond.

Buildings of the Car-negie Institution'sDesert Laboratory atTucson are located ona hillside in the midstof a great expa nse ofdesert, high plateaus,and mountain wood-lands.


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In a brown stone building on the slope of Tuma-moc Hill, men of science have been solving thedesert's riddles for the past three decades. Hereis an interview with one of the men who knowsmost of the answers.What a beautiful site for the Desert la-boratory! There before me, less thantwo miles away, lay the cultural capi-tal of the Southwest and stretching inall directions from its borders lay thebeautiful arboreal desert now famousthroughout the world.And this brown stone buildingtheDesert Laboratory of the Carnegie In-stitution of Washingtonhad housedthe men who had done most, in a quietunheralded way, to make these desertsfamous. This much every desert dwellerhas heard. But the idea of a desert la-boratory is remote and hazy to most ofus . If we give it a second thought, weprobably regard the place as a sortof cactus garden where super-gardenerstend their neatly-spaced plots of spinyplants.But as I came up the steep grade tothe buildings on the hill I saw no well-

tended gardens. In fact the terrain look-ed just a little wilder than the desertaround it, a sort of refuge where cotton-tails, quail, and lizards frolicked in un-molested freedom and the native plantlife seemed more abundant. And thisman before methe director of thisfamous laboratorycertainly did notlook like a gardener.We had lunchthe laboratory staff,the little lady with the gray hair andvoice of a girl, and the reporter. As Dr.Shreve described with the language of ascientist the pecularities of a certain de-sert plant, I wondered whether thelittle woman was following him. I hadbecome lost about two courses back.I thought she must be a very bravewife to have lived with this man solong and to have suffered these undeci-pherable descriptions so well. My doubtchanged to admiration when I learned

The members of the first major Pinacate expe-dition of November, 1907. Photograph taken byGodfrey Sykes. Left to right, Dr. D. T. MacDougal,leader of the expedition; Jesse D. Jenkins, as-sistant cook, story-teller a nd jester; Charles Fos-ter, Mexican guide; Jeff Milton, U. S. Immigrationinspector; John M. Phillips, iron manufacturerand expert sportsman and photographer; Win.T. Hornaday, zoologist and chief taxidermist, authorof "Campfires on Desert and Lava," and above,George Saunders, cam p helper; a nd Frank Coles,wagon master and cook. This group of men broughtback from barren Pinacate the first scientific ac-count of the botany, zoology, and geography ofthis arid region.

that Mrs. Shreve is a distinguished scien-tist in her own right and that she is theauthor of one of the most widely quotedpapers listed by the institution!He Knows Most of the Answers"What is the Desert Laboratory?Who started it and why? Why was itplaced out here so far from the so-called centers of culture? What do theydo here? Who works here?" These and

other elementary questions I fired atDr. Shreve."Of course you are familiar with thestory of Andrew Carnegie," he began,"the immigrant boy who became one ofAmerica's richest steel magnates andwho left a fortune "to encourage in thebroadest and most liberal manner in-vestigation, research, and discovery, andthe application of knowledge to the im-provement of mankind." Before he diedCarnegie had established an institutionwhich divided its scientific investiga-tions into twelve departments in wide-ly separated parts of the country. TheDesert Laboratory became one of theoutposts of the Division of Plant Bio-logy. The total Carnegie benefactiontotaled about $25,000,000."The late Dr. F. V. Coville, chief bo-tanist of the U. S. Department of Agri-culture for more than 40 years, broughtto the attention of the Institution theneed for investigation in the field ofplan t life. He and Dr. D. T. MacDou-gal, then assistant director of the NewTurn to Page 28

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"Desert Steve" Rqgsdale of Desert Centeris the subject of this sketch. He opened aservice station on Highway 60 when onlytwo cars a day were traveling that route.But eventually Desert Center prosperedand now Steve's son runs the businesswhile he lives on the top of a mountainoverlooking the desert and writes badpoetry for recreation. Here's the story ofone of the most colorful desert rats in thearid Southwest.

By RANDALL HENDERSON

ES MA'AM! We used to havelots of rattlesnakes here. Thecountry was alive with them.They crawled around in armies and ateeverything in their path. Few peopleever got out of the desert alive in thosedays."But they are all gone now. Haven'tseen one for years."What became of them?"Well, Henry Ford is responsible.When he got to making all those littlecars a few years ago this road acrossthe Chuckawalla valley became socrooked that a cow pony couldn't followit. Nothing but Fords ever tried to crossthis way.They zig-zagged along throughthe sand and when the rattlers wouldstart chasing them the blankety snakeswould break their backs making theturns. They're all gone now."This is Steve Ragsdale's yarn'Des-Steve and Mrs. Ragsdale at theirSanta Rosa mountain cabin.

ert Steve' of Desert Center. Nearlyevery one who has traveled Highway60 across the Chuckawalla desert inSouthern California has heard of De-sert Steve.He has a story for every occasion.This is the one he told in the earlydays when timid folks from Eastern cen-ters of tenderfoot culture would stopat the Ragsdale service station to in-quire about the danger of Indians,outlaws and rattlesnakes.The California link in Highway 60is paved now and thousands of motor-ists roll along its smooth surface everyweek without thought of the hazardswhich once beset the desert traveler.Broke on 6-Cent Cotton

Steve Ragsdale is one of the pioneersalong this highway. He was doing verywell as a cotton rancher in the PaloVerde valley until the post-war slumphi t the cotton market. He couldn't feedhis wife and four children with six-centcotton, and so he turned the ranchover to the tax collector and announcedthat he was going to open up a servicestation at Gruendyke's Well, midwaybetween Blythe and Mecca on the oldChuckawalla road.Folks laughed at Steve, and felt sorryfor his family. The road across theChuckawalla in those days consistedof two rather uncertain ruts across 90miles of blow sand and cross-washes.It required nine hours of hard drivingto cover the 90 miles. Only the hardiestof motorists would attempt the trip.

There were many days when not a sin-gle car was to be met along this route.Six automobiles in 24 hours was heavytraffic.But Mrs. Ragsdale was willing, andthe four children were too young tovote on the questionso they loadedup the furniture and went out to re-build the little cabin which Old ManGruendyke had left when he proved upon his homestead.That was in 1921. During the nextfour years they stuck to the job throughsummer heat and sandstorms. A littlework had been done on the road, andtravel was increasing. The Ragsdaleshad begun to feel that perhaps theirpioneering would be rewarded.Highway Route Is ChangedThen the state took over the highwayand engineers decided that the Chuck-awalla road should be rerouted to avoidthe heavy sand. Gruendyke's Well wasto be a mile and a quarter from thenew highway.This was heart-breaking news to theRagsdales, but they took it like truepioneers. Instead of crying about theinjustice of the government and clamor-ing for damages, Steve went out andhelped the engineers locate the newroad.Then he began preparations to movehis service station. The main problemwas water. It is a scarce commodityin the Chuckawalla valley. With a handwindlass and the help of his familyTurn to Page 26

N o v e m b e r , 1937


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11 Gold l-moty. . . that's what they called him at militaryacademy. But to the world he is known asLt. W. H. Emory, diarist and mapmakerextraordinary.

By J. WILSON McKENNEY

H ALF CHOKED in the dust raisedby Kearney's dragoons, a grimyoung lieutenant rode in silence.He saw no visions of rich cities to beconquered nor was he composing prettyspeeches to be flaunted before the van-quished heathen. He was more con-cerned about his precious instruments.Jim Early had nearly allowed theinstrument wagon to tip over in thatlast barranca. Confound these drivers!Why must they all drink so long of thisNew Mexican wine? He could hardlyblame the fellow, though. What withthe poor grub he gets in this army,the sight of good food and drink inthe villages is enough to drive any manto excess. One consolation is that fel-low Bestorhe guards the transit andchronometer with his very life.Thus Lt. Emory mused as he rode inthe dust cloud kicked up by the rem-nant of the Army of the West.First Lieutenant William HemsleyEmory, chief engineering officer andacting assistant adjutant-general of theArmy of the West was his full nameand title. His classmates back at theU. S. Military Academy in 1831 hadcalled him "Bold Emory" and he hadliked that. Few people called him"Bil l ," not even Matilda, his wife. Hisdignity and calm discouraged familiar-ity. But his associates knew Emory tobe sympathetic and generous. Proba-bly too much for his own good. So hecovered up with a false front.

There was small time for quiet think-ing on this expedition. New problemswere always coming up. The biggest

troubles seemed to find their center inthe head of the General. Not that hewould permit himself the slightest dis-respect of his superior. But the bluntman so frequently irritated his staffthat he moved always in an atmos-phere of friction and discord.After all, this might be an oppor-tunity for a young man. Here he was

35 years old and so far he had not madea distinguishing mark in the army ser-vice. This expedition offered a chancefor original scientific observation, a lotof high adventure in an unbroken coun-try, and a brevet if he did a good job.And Matilda would be proud of him ifhe ever reached home again. He for-got for a moment it was his idea makingthis western treknot Matilda's. Theyhad been married eight years ago andhe had had a difficult time providingfo r the great-granddaughter of Ben-jamin Franklin in the style he wouldlike to offer. But here it is time againto rush ahead and spot a campsite. Andhe must set up for a lunar observation;the General would probably order afull calculation tonight.

Drought on the DesertWater was hard to find. It was earlyOctober and the tributaries of the RioGrande were nearly dry. The summerof 1846 had been a severe drought sea-son, the grass was a crisp brown, andthe scant water holes were stagnant.It was indeed a bad year for an armyof 1,660 untrained infantry and badlymounted cavalry to attempt the conquestof New Mexico and California. But the

young chief engineer was expected tofind campsites near water every night.So far his luck had held. But the Mexi-cans had told him about terrible waste-lands between the Rio Grande and theColorado where he would search invain for water.The Army of the West, as motley agathering of volunteers and regularsas ever graced a military expeditionon this continent, had mustered atFort Leavenworth in May and hadcrossed the prairies of Kansas and eas-tern Colorado during the summer. Thebrawny young United States govern-ment had declared war on Mexico andwas seeking to lay its protective handon the vast uncharted area known asNew Mexico.The Yankee Dons in far-off Califor-nia had also proven that the climateand natural resources of the great coas-tal empire were worth wresting fromthe hospitable Mexicans. So Kearneyand his motley army were ordered west-ward on a double mission.

Invaders Wined and DinedThe conquest of New Mexico was afarce. After vain sputterings and emptythreats, General Armijo had flown southwith his tiny army and a sizeable bitof property acquired during his lordlygovernorship. Kearney entered thte cityof Santa Fe with all the pomp anddignity he could muster from his raggedand weary army. Then followed amonth of grandiose good-will speechesfrom roof-tops, a task which the Gen-eral apparently assumed with relish.The vanquished residents welcomed the10 The DESERT MAGAZINE


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-WMnuriHia,

soldiers, offered barrels of wine andflocks of young bullocks.Kearney concluded his short gover-norship by dividing his army into sev-eral columns, leaving a garrison atSanta Fe, ordering Capt. Cooke's Mor-mon Battalion to follow westward asquickly as possible, and assuming thelead of Maj. Sumner's 300 dragoonstoward ihe conquest of California.Here Lt. Emory's real work began.He looked forward to the march witheagerness. Thus far he had made obser-vations in territory much of whichhad already been described by path-finding parties. Now he had much newwork to do. He was official astron om er,draughtsman, geologist, meteorologist,botanist, diarist, and reporter of theexpedition. His maps would give thegovernment at Washington its first au-thentic information of the deserts andmountains of the great southwest. Hissketches and specimens would givescientists their first knowledge of theIndians, animals, plants, and mineralsof this vast unexplored region. He pre-pared himself thoroughly, determinedto do a good job, without prejudiceor error.

Insubordination was not in Emory'scharacter; he was a good army man.No hint of his private thoughts abouthis chief crept into his reports. Con-troversial reports of Kearney at SanPasqual and of the Kearney-Stockton-Fremont incident were never given biasby the engineer. His work was with theimmutable laws of Nature, the undispu-table position of the stars in relation tohis westward journey, and the thrillingdiscovery of new botanical classifica-tions.Let the General get red in the faceall he wished. After all, a man who hadserved in the War of 1812 about the. time the young engineer was first see-

Junction of the Gila and Coloradorivers, as sketched by Emory's art-ist in 1846. Picacho Peak is in thebackground. Taken from Em ory'sreport.

San Diego as seen by Emory in1846, at a point where Oldtownstands now. Reproduced from Em-ory's Reconnaissance report.

ing the light of day was entitled, byvirtue of his long military dictator-ship on the western frontier, to hisrages. Kearney was essentially a strictdisciplinarian but his letters to hiswife revealed he had another, gentlernature.Let modern historians debate on thequarrel between Kearney and Stockton,let them speculate on the guilt or in-nocence of Fremont, let them argueabout the relative merits of the Califor-nia lance in the hands of expert horse-men and the musket in the hands ofweary and half-drunken dragoons. Notone of the recorders of history will ques-tion the trustworthy contribution whichobscure Lt. Emory made to the lore ofthe southwest. In fact, few even mentionEmory except to quote a sentence or twoof his colorful language. For who isinterested in the quiet plodding of ascientific man when there is a battleof tycoons in the offing?

Two weeks out of Santa Fe, nearthe village of Socorro, the company of

dragoons met Kit Carson and party,enroute east with dispalches telling ofthe subjugation of the Californians.Commodore Stockton was reporting thatthe empire had surrendered without lossof blood and "the American flag floatedin every port." Stockton's extravagantoptimism caused Kearney to send 200 ofhis dragoons back to Santa Fe, a thirdof his original force continuing west-ward.

Much against Carson's will, GeneralKearney pursuaded the famous scoutto turn back and guide the party toCalifornia, a happy accident which ex-tended Kearney's life another two yearsand saved Emory's reminiscences forthe world. Kit Carson's spectacularfeatwith Lt. Bealein bringing res-cue to the butchered Americans at SanPasqual is an epic of California history.Emory's keen powers of observationare evident in his report to the govern-

ment, a book now difficult to find inprint, which was published in Washing-ton in 1848. The title of the narrativeis "Notes of a Military Reconnaissancefrom Fort Leavenworth in Missouri toSan Diego in California." No diary eversparkled more with humorous incidentTurn to Page 26

rN o v e m b e r , 1 9 3 7 11


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JLookina "&ownfitomA/evada 512,000- foo t O& 5I5

. . A hiker's story of thetrail to rugged Charles-ton peak . .C LIMBING desert moun-tains in summertime isa vacation idea whichmay have some drawbacks. Andyet, when the trail leads at lastto a refreshing snowbank fromwhich one can look down andwatch the heat devils stagetheir mid-summer dance on thefloor of Death Valley, such atrip has its compensations.It was my good fortune lastsummerthe Fourth of July tobe exact to accompany aparty of California's SierraClub hikers to the summit ofCharleston Peak in SouthernNevada.For the information of thosewho do not already know,Charleston Peak, elevation 11,-910 feet, is listed as Nevada'sthird highest mo untain. It isone of the few peaks in thatarea known as the "GreatAmerican Desert" where snowremains on the sheltered northslopes through all or nearly allof the summer season.Charleston literally is asnow-capped oasis in the desert. Fromits summit, the view is the same inevery directiona pastel tinted desertwhose outermost boundaries are lostin the haze of a distant horizon. PerhapsI should mention one exception to thislast statement. On clear days the dimoutline of Mt. Whitney and the highSierras may be seen far off across theDeath Valley basin on the west.The desert land which is to be seenfrom a snow-upholstered gallery seat atthe top of Charleston is rich in Indiantradition and scenic charm. Not farfrom the Eastern base of the mountainthe blue waters of Lake Mead slowlyare creeping higher up the desert slopestoward a new shoreline which will estab-lish this as the world's largest artificiallake.Some miles to the northeast is thatcolorful jumble of rocks known as theValley of Fire, and the prehistoric In-dian ruins of Lost City where M. R.Harrington and his associates of the

By RANDALL HENDERSONi Southwest museum have been laboring\ diligently since 1933 to salvage whatthey can of Indian artifacts and historybefore the old pueblo sites are sub-

merged forever beneath the waters ofthe newly formed lake.Las Vegas and Boulder City are meredots on the desert plain which extendsaway to the southeast, and far off acrossthe California boundary to the southare the Providence mountains where J.E. Mitchell's weird caverns of stalac-tites and stalagmites are to be found.The trail to the top of Charlestonmountain is long, but not difficult.The distance from the Public Campground in Kyle canyon is nine miles.It is no ordinary trail, engineered totake the hiker to the summit by theshortest route. I do not know the nameof the man who selected this route

. . From the top, in alldirections a pastel col-ored desert. .but I know that he was a ran-ger with the soul of an artist.I have been on many mountaintrails, but never before onewhich offered such a variety ofpanoramas as this one. Itseems to me that a landscapeartist could spent a life-time ofpainting along that trailandin the end report to St. Peterthat his job was only half done.The trail which we tookleaves the camp ground nearthe end of the paved road inKyle canyon. For the first twomiles there is a gentle ascentthrough a dense thicket ofshrubbery which borders a lit-tle mountain stream fed by thesnowbanks above.

Then a precipitous wall ofrock several hundred feet inheight closed in on the southside of the canyon and here weencountered our first snow. Atthis point the trail leaves thefloor of the canyon and zig-zagssharply upward into a coolforest of pine and fir.There is no monotony in thistrip. At frequent intervals during theentire distance up to the main ridgewe would emerge abruptly from theshadows of the timberland and find thetrail leading for a few steps along thecrest of a ridge from which we couldlook down into a snow-filled gorge onone side, and the green slopes of Kyle

canyon on the other. Always the desertis to be seen far off in the easternbackground.Eventually we reached the main ridgeand here we got our first glimpse of thegreat Mojave desert that lies betweenthe Charleston mountains and the SierraNevadas of California. It is a gorgeousview at sunset.I could never do justice to that three-mile trail which leads along the crestto the final summit. We were on therim of a giant escarpment which dropsoff abruptly to the floor of Kyle can-yon on one side, and rolls away in apicturesque series of meadows on theother. Wild flowers were everywhere

12 The DESERT MAGAZINE


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Sierra Club hikers from California rest on the cairn at the top ofCharleston peak before starting down the trail.and the trail alternately led across thelittle meadows and through the fringesof timber which surround them.The path is located just far enoughbelow the crest of the ridge to affordshelter for the hiker during those per-iods when biting winds are blowingacross the top. Here again the men ofthe forestry service had in mind thecomfort and the enjoyment of theirguests.Many of those who start for the topof Charleston reach the colorful mea-

dows on this gentle sloping plateauand never go beyond. There is rewardenough for the arduous labor of climb-ing this mountain, in the serene mag-nificence of this natural mountain park.I did go to the summit, but that wasjust sort of an after-climax. The realthrill of the Charleston climb was alongthe ridge and in those flower-strewnmeadows.I hope they never build a road to thetop of Charleston. It would be a crimeagainst heaven to have that mountain

park cluttered up with honking automo-biles and discarded lunch boxes. Thatis one spot which should be preservedfor those who have earned the right toenjoy its charming seclusion.The Charleston Peak recreationalarea is not well known to the public.Many Las Vegas residents have summercottages in Kyle canyon but it was notuntil last January that the forestry serv-

ice started an intensive program ofdevelopment of the resort area. TheKyle canyon road was paved in 1933,but it was a year later before the trailto the summit was opened.Boulder dam is situated almost inthe shadow of Charleston mountainsand therein probably lies one of thereasons why the scenic attractions ofthis new Southern Nevada mountainpark resort have received so little publicnotice. The spotlight has been on theBoulder project, and paradoxically,Charleston has remained in the shadow.The Charleston Mountain division ofthe Nevada National forest is under thesupervision of Ranger R. C. Andersonand a group of assistants who are con-tributing to the popularity of the areaby extending every possible courtesy tovisitors.The Public Camp ground in Kylecanyon has an elevation of 7500 feet,and is reached from Las Vegas by 37miles of well-paved road. There are

Turn to Page 33

Sketch shows roadsleading to interest-ing points in LasVegas recreationalarea

N o v e m b e r , 1 9 3 7 13


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NAVAJO SHEPHERDESS Photo by Win. M. PenningtonD E P E N D E N C EO NE WORD expresses the "feeling"of this Pennington masterpiece. Tothe desert-wise that one word tellsthe story.

The helpless sheep, frightened by ap-proaching s t o r m , instinctively dependupon the shepherdess for protection fromthreatening danger . . . The shepherdessand her family depend upon the sheepfor the necessities of life . . . Both shep-herdess and sheep depend u p o n thedesert grass and water holes . . . Shep-herdess, sheep, grass and water holesdepend upon moisture from the cloudsabove.Dependence implies confidence. Con-fidence must be mutual. The desert is

harsh toward those who abuse it.Twentieth-century Navajos d e s i r e d

more sheep than their reservation landscould support. Overgrazing destroyedthe grass roots when animals became toonumerous . . . sheep and goats, withoutgrass and water, either faced or met star-vation . . . Navajo Indianswithout sheep,goats, w ater, or g ras s faced starvationan d the extinction of their race . Moisturefrom the threatening clouds then becamea land-destroying menace.That is the lesson which Governmentengineers are pointing out to the NavajoIndians. Millions of Federal dollars arebeing spent in the effort to restore, in reallife, numberless reproductions of the scenephotographed years ago by William M.Pennington . . . Competent critics havedeclared it his best desert photograph."Just a lucky shot," asserts Bill Penning-ton.



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7eel ofi theVe5ettBy JOHN STEWART MacCLARYH IG H UP on the Walpi mesa aring of wide-eyed Hopi young-sters gathered around us in the

darkness as we tinkered and coaxed ina fruitless effort to bring life to ourdead motor.There was plenty of gas in the tank.The wiring all appeared to be in order.But the pooled mechanical skill of thefour of us had brought forth nothingmore enlivening than a dying gasp fromthe starter. Even the lights would notglow.Our audiencethe little brown chil-dren of stone-age parents, did notlaugh at our steel-age predicament.They were the sons and daughters ofa proud line of primitive Americanswhose training would not permit themto jeer at another's misfortune.With courtesy which is characteristicof their parents, they offered to pushour stranded automobile. That was theonly way they knew how to help usalong the trail.Eventually we discovered the causeof our t rouble . A mechanic had for-gotten to put water in the battery.This merely was one of the incidentsin a week of adventure in Hopi-land,high up on the mesas of northeasternArizona. We had come out here fordiverse reasons. Will Evans, for manyyears a trader on the Navajo reserva-tion in northwestern New Mexico, hadnever crossed the blue mountain rangewhich hid Canyon de Chelley and theland of the Hopis. He wanted to visitthese places. My object was the gath-ering of material for the writer's mark-ets. My brother accompanied us, justfor a vacation.

Seeks Rare PhotographsOvershadowing the interests of therest of us, was the desire of the artist-photographer William M. Penningtonto obtain some rare camera studies ofa tribe of Arizona desert Indians whoheld a superstitious dread of the whiteman 's box-with-the-evil-eye. If there hadbeen no other reward for the otherthree of us the trip would still havebeen worth many times the hardships,for the companionship of so genuine aman as Bill Pennington.And that brings us to the purpose ofthis storyto present to the readers ofDesert Magazine the unusual characterof a man whose exquisite photographywill occupy an important place in fu-ture issues of this publication. If youknow this man vou would love him

as you will love the rare artistry of hisphotographs.In 1908, Bill Penningtonyoung inyears, following the then adolescent artof photographyunpacked his equip-ment and opened a studio in Durango,Colorado. He was a slender youngKentuckian who had come west by wayof Texas where he had received pains-taking instruction in the finest methodsof his profession from an English pho-tographer.

Sixty air-line miles from the city ofDurango is the one spot in the UnitedStates where four states corner in asingle point. Locally the adjacent areais known as the Four Corners. Animaginary circle, drawn from the cor-ners as a center, would include an equalquadrant each of Colorado, Utah, Ari-zona, and New Mexico.

Land of Ancient TribesIf the radius of the mythical circlewere extended to 100 miles, it wouldinclude some of the most picturesqueand historically fascinating desertscenery in all of North America. Thedeserted ruins of Mesa Verde, PuebloBonito, Chaco Canyon, Aztec nationalmonument, and Ruin Canyon nationalmonument, all made accessible by stateand federal governments, are but themost spectacular examples among theinnumerable ancient ruins which dot themesa and line the canyons of the FourCorners region.But ancient ruins are not the onlypicturesque subjects to be found. Thesetribes af modern Indians are quarteredon Government reservations within thewide circle: Piutes in southeastern Utah,Southern Utes in southwestern Colo-rado, Navajos in northwestern NewMexico and northeastern Arizona.Kentuckian Bill Pennington under-stood neither customs nor the speech ofthe desert Indians. But he quickly rec-ognized the artistic values displayed intheir handicraft and in their primitiveliving conditions. Still alive when theartist first came into the desert wereindividual Indians whose exploits hadcontributed to Southwestern history.Some day the portraits of such wouldbe of value to accurate historians. Buthow was a timid white "tenderfoot" togain the confidence of recently-mur-derous savages who exhibited supersti-tious terror of the camera's lens?Mr. Pennington explains the answercasually:"I reached the Indians through li-

WM. M. PENNINGTONArt photographerThis picture was taken in the nat-ural cavity at the base of WindowRock in northeastern Arizona.censed traders in whom they placed 1confidence, and by employing as inter-preter a young Indian boy who had Ibeen to school.'The natural poses were achieved byobserving the postures and habits ofthe Indians at times when they did notsuspect that I was watching them.They are very self-conscious people andhave to be handled very much as chil-dren. When you once get their confi-dence they are congenial and co-opera-tive. But don't try to take picturesagainst their will. One act of that kindI will turn the whole tribe against you.\ /Here is His SecretAfter all. it simmers down to a lan-guage which requires no interpreter/ and of which Bill Pennington is master:patient understanding. The eyes andvoice and manner of the man reveal thatquality to all who chance to meet him.The subtle feel in desert photo-portraits,which were made by the artist, is ex-perienced by those who appreciate visi-ble artistic expression and those whoknow and understand the desert.In recent years Pennington has madehis home in Alhambra, California.Rights to many of his cherisheddesert views have been secured for theDesert Magazine. Short sketches ex-plaining each of the series are to bewritten by John Stewart MacClary, in-timate friend of Pennington and hiscompanion on many photographic ex-peditions. The first of the Penningtonseries appears on the opposite page.

N o v e m b e r , 1937 '. i 15


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Elephant trees were reported onthe Colorado desert of Californiamany years ago, but the original lo-cation as published was erroneous.It was not until last January that Dr.E. M. Harvey of the U. S. Depart-ment of Agriculture and Don Ad-miral, Palm Springs naturalist, re-discovered the trees and furnished adefinite record of their location. Dr.Harvey (left) and Mr. Admiral arepictured here standing beside the dis-covery tree in the Borego area.

Jloit I tee In a JloneluJLandLv W 7 H E N YOU think you have\ \ found it, just stab it with aknife. If it bleeds red, youcan be sure!"We had stopped our car at the Dry

Lake Gas Station, on the Julian-KaneSprings highway. Another car, coveredwith dust and desert water-bags, hadbeen filled up, and the driver was hav-ing a little friendly visit with Mrs. Ben-son, wife of the service station owner.We had been half-drowsing, but, hear-ing those strange words "stab it witha knife," we were wide awake. My hus-band nodded "Yes!" and we were outof our car and into the conversation.The man who had sounded so blood-thirsty was quite courteous. He musthave been amused, but he was helpful.He made us a small map of the routeto the place, and also a sketch of theElephant Tree.We had heard rumors of a strangetree, high up on an alluvial fan, some-where on the Colorado Desert of Cali-fornia. It had been reported by aprospector some years beforejust anunnamed tree, a different tree.The rumor had been relayed to theUniversities, and a group of botanistshad come down to look at the find, butthe prospector had already driftedalong and no one knew where he hadseen the strange specimen.The tree remained a rumor, nameless,until Janu ary, 1937. At that time Dr.

By LILLIAN BOS ROSSE. M. Harvey of the United States De-partment of Agriculture and Don Ad-miral, the Palm Springs naturalist,were exploring the Borego Desert to seewhat they could find that was different.They had the amazing good fortune tofind and identify the Elephant Tree.I had read a short announcement ofthis discovery in a Los Angeles paperand wondered what an Elephant Treewould look like, in what sort of silentvalley it spread its branches, lived itsionely life. Now I was really to see!"It' s a hard trip . You have to walkthe last three miles up hill to the tree.Park your car on Fish Creek Wash.You know where that is?"

"Yes," said Dickon, "that's the bigWash leading into Split Mountain."For two months we had been explor-ing the odd places in the Borego desert.And so, when our informant warned usthat we would encounter some heavysand, we thanked him with that superiorair of a tenderfoot motorist who alreadyhas had his initial experience in diggingout.We left Fish Creek arroyo and dashedup Elephant Tree wash with all theconfidence of veterans. But we didn'tdash far. Then we backed down thewash and tried that firm steady ap-proach which will work in any ordinarysand. The result was the samethreecar-lengths up the wash equals one car-depth down in the sand.We didn't want to give up. For twostubborn hours we battled that wash.It got to be a game. We gathered greatstacks of brush and put it under thewheels and built a runway of it aheadof the carand only got a little closerto China.My dripping husband looked at thehub-deep car and grinned."Well, what do you think?" he asked."I think it's three o'clock. If we canget back to Fish Creek wash by three-thirty, let's hike up and find the Ele-phant."Safe on the solid sand of Fish Creek,we took long drinks of water and filleda quart flask. I carried it, because I



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don't drop things. And we set outeagerly on the last lap of our adventure.In half an hour I was giddy withheat and fatigue, but buoyantly happy.Beauty, uncanny but positive, is in thatwild canyonsomehow as moving asthe thought of the world's creation.Strange in that burning place is thewealth of fragile and exotic flowers, lur-ing you on from boulder to boulder.We toiled on, mopping our brows, andtaking turns at tipping up the water-bottle.The first mile we had possibly fivelittle sips of water. That is all youneed, a s ip ; but you feel that you musthave that taste of water, your lips andmouth get so dry. It was 104 in theshade, with a hot wind blowing.We made the second mile before aboulder rolled, threw me, and I droppedthe glass flask on another boulder!Dickon was encouraging. "It doesn'tmake a bit of difference. We are al-most there, and it won't be so hot com-ing back."We started climbing again, unwillingto pass any bench that could have shel-tered an Indian camp site. The nat-uralist had said theElephant Tree mighthave been used by the Indians. We

found a few crude flint chips and a fewbits of broken pottery, but no evidenceof villages. Dickon got oneprize, how-ever, a fine specimen of flint knife.I was very thirsty, my mouth dry,lips stiff and queer. I gave up, andsaid, "I'm tired, it's late, let's go backto the car and try again tomorrow."I looked around for Dickon, and sawthat he had his newly found flint knifein his hand, and was cutting off the topof a barrel cactus."I'm getting us a drink," he said.He was irritatingly cheerful. I saidcrossly, "I don't believe you could wateran ant with what juice you can get outof that thing!""Well, prospectors and writers havesaid you can." With a smooth stone hewas pounding the pulp in the cactus,and it began to make a sloshing sound.He folded a paper trough out of anenvelope, and cut a narrow groove inthe side of thecactus."I 'm using the same sort of knife theIndians used for this job," Dickon said,"but this paper is easier than the In-dians had it."

He held a paper cup hopefully at theend of his trough, and water really didtrickle out of the living water jar.

I was cowardly and said, "You tasteit first."He said it was cool, and wet; I fin-ished the few drops. Immediately theshort rest, the finding of water in thearid desert, and the little drink of sweetflat wetness, set me up amazingly.Fifteen more minutes, and my feetwere faltering again. I would go as faras a big rock that loomed just ahead ofus. But when we got to the rock Iwanted to see what was in thevalley be-yond it.The Elephant Tree was beyond it!My feet were suddenly as light as myheart, as I leaned against the rock andlooked at the strange tree.But my husband had a light in his eyeas he fingered his flint knife. He hadto be sure!

"When you think you have found it,stab it with a knife; if it bleeds red,you can be sure."Dickon cut a small sliver of bark.

Th e sap was red as beet juice!We sat down and looked carefully tosee why it wascalled Elephant. Thick-ness, strength, solidity, massiveness,were the words it suggested.Turn to Page 24Split Mountainr Canijon

MAPShodnq locationo f l k e >

E L E P H A N T T R E E S .Sorego lCalifornia

>strict of IkeBorep Desert.(Jrees areihreerom and Dunes.Car canbe drivento Slephanb-Jfee tJashs.

SmwhuMmikf. '*

N o v e m b e r , 1937 17


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Jluck

, T GUESS we'll pour a $10,000* * J_ brick this w eek," young KennethHolmes told me after showing methrough the modern gold reductionplant he and his partner, Ed Nichol-son, have erected in southeastern Im-perial county, California.

I could feel the cool chills chasingeach other up and down my spine. Whatkind of genii, thought I, could extractten grand from that mass of clankingchains, swirling mud, and howling crush-ers in a week? Yet that, appa rently,was a regular habit. The circulatingcyanide plant has been running upscores like that almost every week formore than two years. And there are bet-ter scores to come, young Mr. Holmesdeclares with enthusiam.

Kenneth Holmes is worth anybody'sobservation. Here is a young man of 35years, graduate of University of Sou-thern California, technical and prac-tical miner of no mean ability, notat all hard to look at, with no lessthan a million of Uncle Sam's ironmen salted away for a rainy day. Here,I repeat, is a man with all this whoprefers to wear greasy overalls andlive in a shack beside his rumbling min-ing machinery. Here is a man withsomething on the ball.If you keep up on mining news you

have seen the name Holmes runningin big letters these past few years. Butit is Brother George who gets the pub-lic notice, for it was George who foundthe boulder which led to the discoveryof the Silver Queen at Mojave. And theSilver Queen became a bonanza, sell-ing for $3,170,000 five months afterits discovery. So George, by the luckyturn of a pick, was awarded the head-lines.Others, however, helped develop thegreat mine, among them George's fa-ther, younger Brother Kenneth, andexperienced old Ed Nicholson. All ofthe men drew rich stakes when themine was sold and they wisely contract-ed to leave their forwarding addressesfor regular royalty remittances. Butgold fever was in their blood. Insteadof retiring to a mansion in BeverlyHills and an estate at Palm Springs,they set out for new rock to blast.George rigged up a portable assayoutfit and compressor unit, gatheredtogether a crew of mining experts andset out to make a systematic modernsearch for the Golden Fleece.

Holmes Is DescribedGlenn Chesney Quiett in his book

"Pay Dirt" describes George Holmesas a born prospector. To quote from

Kenneth Holmes, young mining en-gineer, keeps Ids miner's garb eventhough he liad already made somehandsome "strikes."

By JONATHAN BARTthe book: "He says he is like the legen-dary miner who was refused admittanceto heaven because the miners alreadythere were causing trouble by diggingup the golden streets. "If you let mein," he said to St. Peter, "I'll get rid ofthem for you." "All right," replied theguardian of the pearly gates as he ad-mitted him, "let's see what you cando." In a few minutes swarms of min-ers began to rush to the gates, demand-ing to be let out, and soon there wasnot one miner left in Heaven exceptthe newcomer. "How did you do it?"asked St. Peter. "Oh, I just told themthere was a new strike down in Hellthat made this one look like a worn-outplacer." So the miner acquired hishome in Heaven and the streets wereagain safe. But in a few hours he wasback at the gates. "Let me out," he said." W h y ? " asked St. Peter. "I just letyou in." "I know it," replied the pros-pector, "but I've been thinking it over,and maybe there's something in thatstrike down in Hell after all."

It was late in 1933 when George

Holmes and Nicholson plant nearWinterhaven, Imperial county,California.



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Holmes chipped a piece of rich ore offa boulder near Mojave in Kern county,California. The new year had hardlybegun when it was sold for a fortune.Late in 1935 Kenneth Holmes and EdNicholson had bought a string ofmodern ore trucks and a flock of richclaims in the Cargo Muchacho moun-tains of eastern Imperial county. Theyhauled ore a few miles south to U. S.Highway 80, where they built a modernreduction plant near the site of theall-American canal.Huge tubs were placed on a hillside.New machinery was placed on themand connected in a maze of pipe andplatforms known technically as the"flow plan." To the layman it lookslike a pile of junk kept in constantturmoil by some mysterious power.But to Holmes and Nicholson and the 35men who work for them, the plantrepresents the most modern, most scien-tific, and most economical method oftaking pure gold from quartz rock.A massive maw with a digestive ca-pacity of 40 tons an hour crushes theore into small pieces. It is permittedonly a light breakfast, however, for itprepares in a half hour enough fodderto keep the plant operating the restof the day. While the plant now takescare of about 25 tons a day, a few sim-ple changes would step up the capacityto 100 tons a day.Since the Desert Magazine is not des-tined to competition with the imminentMining Journal, it is not essential thatthis reporter disclose, even if he could,the technical construction and operationof the Holmes-N icholson pla nt. But toyou and me the personalities and ach-ievements of these men are far moreimportant.

Amazing CareersThey are not ready yet to write theirmemoirs; meteoric as has been theirrise in the mining world, they are stilllooking for new placers to work, newquartz to blast, new records to break.And perhaps, even before your eyemeets this print, you will have heardabout some amazing new strike whichthe Holmes brothers and their asso-ciates have made.There should be a moral in the storyof the Holmes's which could be usedwith satisfaction by every school tea-cher in the land. For these boys havemore than luck: they first studied allavailable science on mining and thenwent out to apply their knowledge in thesearch for gold. That understanding,coupled with my secret belief that theyhabitually carry rabbit's feet and goodluck pennies, is probably the reasonfor their amazing success.

Come toEL CENTROIN THE SCENIC IMPERIAL VALLEYLand of Barbara Wo rth and winter sunshine

CENTEROF THE

LARGESTIRR IG AT IO NENTERPRISE

INA M E R I C A

" AM ERICA 'SWINTERG A R D E N "

PI CTUR ESQUE PAINTED GO R GEV isit El Ce ntro, ce nter of a rich valley which produces thousandsof carloads of table produce in seasons when eastern sections areunder snow . . . . indeed suf f ic ient evidence of El Centro 's de l igh t fu lwinter cl imate.Within short motoring distance from El Centro's comfortablehotels and auto courts are the scenic wonders of the ColoradoDesertscores of geological and historical points of interest. Seethe Imperial Dam and All-American Canal under construction. VisitSalton Sea, the ancient be achline, pre historic oyster beds.El Centro merchants and hotel keepers extend every effort toassure the comfort and convenience of tourists and motorists.

TRAVELA L L U R I N G

DESERTTRAILSO U T O F

IMPERIALVALLEY

F A M O U S M U D P O TS A T M U LLET I S LA N D

For further information write the secretary o f theEL CENTRO CHAMBER OF COMMERCE

EL CENTRO. CALIF.

N o v e m b e r , 1 93 7 19


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T HERE has been a lull in homesteaclands have become scarce, and ir| twithdrawn from entry until waterUhowever, the stage is being set for a |BTIn the great basin of the Colorado riveWashington, and on other projects, workof acres of virgin soil to new settlementriver the all-American canal nears comphalf million acres of land which have mpanying article, the Desert Magazine prethis new project. - * * " '

7ot tki5

By LARRY D. W O LM A N

the IVeit8000 oe5O UT on the California desert, afew miles from the Coloradoriver, "Red"Davis spends eighthours a day pulling levers and pressingbuttons in the cabin of a huge draglinedredger.

Out in front of "Red"on the end of a150-foot boom is a gigantic shovel, andeach time the boom swings around thehalf circle from the bottom of a newly-excavated ditch to the high sand bankon the opposite side of the dredger, the$30,000,000 All-American canal is 16yards of sand and gravel nearer com-pletion.During the last two years there havebeen more than a score of "Red "Davises strung out along the 80-mileroute of the newcanal. They have beenworking in shifts, 24 hours a day. Theirjo b is nearly finished. The contractorsexpect to have the excavation work inthe canal completed before the end ofthis year.There still remain several months ofwork to be done on the new diversiondam in the Colorado river, the desiltingplant and minor structures. But accord-ing to present schedules the "seasoning"of the newcanal preparatory to puttingit in service will be underway by the endof 1938.Then the Colorado river will beturned into the new channel, and thepioneer residents of Imperial Valleywho have been looking forward formore than 20 years to the time when20

their irrigation and drinking water willflow through a canal located entirelyon American soilrather than Mexicowill no doubt stage a glorious jubileeto celebrate the fulfillment of thdirdream.As far as the owners of the 500,000acres of land now under cultivation inImperial Valley are concerned, the ar-rival of water in the All-Americancanal will mark the end of a long strug-gle to secure an adequate water supply.But that merely is one phase of theproject. "Red" Davis and the otheroperators on those big Bucyrus-Monig-han dredges are digging a canal tocarry 10,000 second feet of waterenough for a million acres of land.Imperial Valley will use only half ofthe canal's capacity.What of theother half million acres?Where is it located? Who owns it?When and how will the additional acre-age be brought under cultivationandwho will be the farmers on the land?No t all of these questions can be

answered with mathematical precision atthis time. But some of the answers areknown, and it is possible, in the lightof reclamation history, to make a fairlyaccurate guess as to the others.First, where is the land located?According to estimates prepared bythe engineers who originally plannedthe construction of Boulder dam and theAll-American canal, the acreages to beserved are as follows:

Imp erial Irrigation district 521,600Coach ella Valle y 152,930Dos Palmos area 8,942West mesa, adjoining Impe-rial Valley 139,549East mesa, adjoining ImperialValley 217,471Pilot Knob area 20,815Total acres 1,061,307

A L L AlSH(

T O BEI SE

KAYMONO e BC1}M


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es in recent years. Goodilable for cultivation. Today,of opportunity for homesteaders,

It will carry water to nearly aplow. In the accom-

Insofar as prospective homesteadersare concerned, the land in the ImperialIrrigation district is out. Most of it washomesteaded many years ago. Also, avery large portion of the CoachellaValley acreage is now patented or sub-ject to prior claims which will make itunavailable for new entry.Of the remaining area, the greaterpart of it is still in the public domain.Sections 16 and 36 in each townshipwere deeded to the State as school lands,and have largely passed into privatehands through sale. The federallyowned public lands within this project

were all withdrawn from entry by orderof the Secretary of Interior, acting forthe President, in April 1909. There area few entries made previous to that datewhich may be revived as valid priorityclaims when the land is again restoredfor public settlement. For the mostpart, however, the 400,000 acres whichremain ofter the Imperial Irrigationdistrict and deeded land in Coachellavalley are subtracted, are still in thepublic domain and subject to entrywhen the Secretary of Interior lets downthe bars.Not all of it is good land. Some of it

I F Q R

Yurrm.2222 PUBLIC LANDS

canal, however, will be governed byreclamation law under which the Secre-tary may determine the size of the farmunit to be allotted to one person.Turn to Page 32

C. A. Colon, ail-American canalconstruction foreman, inspects arelic of the days when a trip fromEl Centro to Yuma was a night-mare and this was the only 'water-hole' on the route.ca n be watered from the new canalonly through pump lifts. There aresand dunes and barrancas in some sec-tions which would make the cost of re-clamation almost prohibitive. Makinga liberal discount for these areas it maybe estimated that there will be between300,000 and 350,000 acres of fertile andtillable land available for new settlers8,000 forty-acre farms, perhaps.

So much for the location and pres-ent status of the land. And now wecome to a phase of the question whichis largely speculative: When and howwill these lands be made available forsettlement?

The Secretary of Interior will deter-mine the date, acting under the autho-rity of the President. One point is quitecertainthere will be no land openinguntil water is available for settlers.According to present estimates waterwill be flowing in the All-Americancanal some time during 1939.It is also quite certain that when thewater supply has been assured therewill be a tremendous pressure on theSecretary to hasten the opening date.This pressure will come not only fromwar veterans and others who are eligibleto file on the land, but from agenciesinterested in the profits which will ac-crue through widespread commercialchannels from a colonization projectwhich will create many thousands ofnew farms in Southern California.Under the general land laws a home-stead is 160 acres, or in special in-stances 320 or 640 acres. The publiclands to be served by the All-American

SUMMARY OF VETERANS'HOMESTEAD RIGHTS

Circular 1264,General Land Of-fice, explains the preference rightsof war veterans in the followingparagraph:"O n the opening of public orIndian lands to entry or restora-tion to entry of public lands here-tofore withdrawn from entry, offic-ers, soldiers, sailors, or marineswho have served in the Army orNavy of the United States in war,military occupation or military ex-pedition, and have been honorablyseparated or discharged therefromor placed in the Regular Army orNaval Reserve are accorded a pre-ferred right of entry under thehomestead laws, if qualified there-under, except as against prior ex-isting valid settlement rights andpreference rights conferred by ex-isting laws or equitable claims sub-ject to allowance and confirmation,for a period of 90 days before thegeneral opening of such lands todisposal."

Veterans with not less than 90days' service may deduct all or partof their enlistment period from the3-year residence requirement neces-sary to prove up on a homestead.Rules governing these deductionsare set forth in General Land Of-fice Circular 302, and are sum-marized as follows:An ex-serviceman with 19 monthsor more military service must re-side on the land 7 months duringthe first entry year.With more than 12 and less than19 months, he must reside on theland 7 months of the first year andsuch part of the second as, addedto his excess over 12 months' serv-ice, will equal 7 months, and mustcultivate one-sixteenth of the areathe second year.With 7 and not more than 12months' service, he must reside onthe land not less than 7 monthsduring each of the first and secondyears, and cultivate one-sixteenthof the area the second year.With 90 days and less than 7months' service he must reside onthe land 7 months during each ofthe first and second years, and suchpart of the third year as added tohis service will make seven months.He must cultivate one-sixteenth ofhis area the second year and one-eighth the third year.The 90-day service requirementdoes not apply to veterans dis-charged for disability incurred inline of duty, and the entire enlist-ment period of such veterans maybe deducted from residence re-quirements.The above also applies to RedCross workers who were identifiedwith the military and naval forces.

21


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KING'SCENTRO

THE DEPARTMENTSTORE OF THE

DESERT

BOYS AND GIRLSEarn extra moneyin spare time by in troducing th is maga-zine to your friends and re la t ives . Lib-eral commissions for subscriptions. Callor "write Circulaton Manager, the DesertMagaz ine , El Centro, Calif.

Hardy Shrubsand Plants . . . forDesert Sections

Whitman's choice cactusand desert plants addbeau ty and color to thedesert home. Your inspec-tion of our wide selection

is cordially invited.

LANDSCAPE PLANNINGA N D C O N S U L T A T I O NWHITMAN SEED CO.618 Main St. E! Centro

T h e B u t t e r f i e l d C h r o n i c l e"The West 's Most Unique Lit t leMagazine"Published Monthly 50c per YearHemet, California

Who Knows the Storyof this Arizona Landmark?

How Well Do YouKnow Your Desert?O NE OF THE objectives of theDesert Magazine is to help Desertfolks become better acquaintedwith their own land of fascination andmystery.

Scattered over the desert countryfrom California to New Mexico andfrom the Mexican border to Nevadaand Utah are literally thousands ofscenic and historic objectspicturesquecanyons, crumbling ruins of historicbuildings, relics of Indian civilization,weird natural formations, and obscureoddities.In order that these places may be-come better known and that the factsand history of them may be availablefor our readers, the Desert Magazineeach month will print the photograph ofone of these mystery spots together witha prize offer to the person who is mostthorough and accurate in identifyingand describing the subject of the photo-graph.Above is reproduced the first picturein the series. This illustration shows animportant building in Arizona. Do youknow its story and location? Let us

hear from you.

PRIZE OFFER

T O THE FIRST person who sendsto the Desert Magazine an accurateidentification of the above land-mark, together with the best story ofnot over 300 words telling the location,the rail and highway routes by whichit might be reached, and the historicalfacts surrounding its construction andu s e , a cash prize of five dollars ($5.00)will be paid.

To be eligible for the prize, answersmust be in the office of the Desert Maga-zine at El Centro, Calif., by November2 0 , 1937. The name of the winner to-gether with the text of the prize-winningreply, will be printed in the January is-sue of the magazine.

Writers should give the source oftheir information, stating whether thefacts quoted are a matter of authorita-tive record or merely hearsay.Answers should be written only onone side of the page and addressed toLandmarks Department, Desert Maga-

zine, El Centro, California.22 The DESERT MAGAZINE


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SezHard RockShorty

OF DEATH VALLEYBy LON GARRISON

44 HUCKS, I must be gettin' old,"gloomed Hard Rock Shorty, ashe asphyxiated a passing bugwith a cloud of pipe smoke and thenleaned back on the porch bench waitingfor more victims.

"I was just thinkin' about it today,an' it's twenty-five year ago this Julythat old Bags Bagoon froze to deathover on Freeze Up Gulch. Seems justlike last week! Old Bags was an old-timer in the Panamints, but he'd beengettin' kind o' childish, dreamin' aboutMinnysota or some heathen place. Thenone fourth of July as he was hikin'into town, why a regular buster of awindstorm come up. Old Bags knowedenough to get out o' the wind an' coverup his head, but he hadn't rightly fig-gered on the Pilgrim with the load o'popcorn. This newcomer was headin'into the town of Inferno with this littledab o' corn figgerin' to sell it to usboys to while away the long wintereven in s with when this storm catched'im."He dumb out under the wagon allright, but the sun was so hot she poppedall the dang corn an' the wind blowed'er away. Old Bags woke up an' foundhimself buried about seven foot deep inthe stuff an' them dreams 0' Minnysotablizzards got 'im. He froze to death!

We like to never got 'im thawed outenough to bury proper."YUMA, ARIZONA

Norval Enger hasbeen transferred from thePine View dam project near Ogden to as-sume the post of division engineer for theGila river project. He takes the place ofPaul Jones, who was transferred to Glen-dive, Mont.LANCASTER, CALIFORNIA

Antelope Valley has just celebrated its sev-enth annual Alfalfa festival, acclaiming a$2,000,000 industry on the southern edge ofthe Mojave desert. The celebration markedthe fifth and final alfalfa harvest of the sea-sona 16,600-acre crop.

In theDesertRefresh Yourself W ith"MEX1CALI" BEERMade especially forwarmweather drinking

Cerveceria de Mexical i , S* A,Mexicali, Baja CaliforniaSOLE AGENT IN U. S.N. Polkinhorn, Calexico, Calif.

Just Pin a Do l l a r B i l l l x I S S U E S O Fto th e coupon below, with your name and ^ ^ ^ ^address, for a one-year subscription to I SCENICSCENIC TRAILSor three years for $2.00. /fThis is the national pictured magazine of the VGreat Outdoorsfull of beautiful scenery, - . , .. . , , , , , . , Magazine of themountains, lakes, forests and streams, birds ~ 'and wildl i fe , with information on our National ^reat OutdoorsParks, National Forests anddude ranches,andthe trails that lead through thewilderness. Saysone reader , "Sure ly lovers of the Great Out-doors wil l revel through the pages." And so 5 Y e a r s fio* $ Z .O Owi l l you . 15cents atNewsstandsSign, Tear off this Coupon and Mail with Money or Check toTRAILS, Incorporated, 605 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, 111. 1 Year $1.00 D 3 Years $2.00 Money Enclosed \J Check EnclosedNameAddressCity State

E A R L E G . D A V I S Life InsuranceAnnuitiesAccident, Health612 Main Street EL CENTRO,CAL. Phone 525

N o v e m b e r , 1 9 3 7 Mention theDesert Magazine toAdvertisers 23


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Lost Tree in a Lonely LandContinued from Page 17

While virtually unknown to the aver-age amateur botanist, the Elephant Treehas been known for many years by sci-entists. Although its California habitatis limited to the Borego and Vallecitoareas in the Colorado desert, it has alsobeen found in Arizona, Baja California,and Sonora. It is, however, a rare tropi-cal plant.W. L. Jepson, famous California bot-anist, had the tree classified as Burseramicrophylla in his "Manual of Flower-ing Plants of California" in 1923.Other botanists also credit JoachimBurser with original classification of thetree.J. H. Rose, eminent cacti authority,is responsible for the more descriptiveterm Elaphrium microphyHum.The massive main trunk of the tree isonly about four feet high, but it is al-most as broad. The main branches arecuriously twisted and interwoven, verylike an elephant's coiled and upraisedtrunk, and these branches are them-selves the size of a good big tree. Offthe main branches come limbs such asan ordinary tree of good growth wouldpu t out. These secondary branches are

no t the leaf carriers. The dainty ovalleaf, about an eighth of an inch long,grows in fern-like clusters on yet a sub-branch . These cover the tree so close-ly that one does not at first realize themassive dignity of this desert rarity.The outer bark of the tree is the colorand texture of fine parchment, one thinlayer over the other. This golden bark,as it dries, curls back in transparent thinlayers, and exposes a bright green barkunderneath. The leaves and twigs ofthe tree have an aromatic fragrancemuch like that of cedar. The seed-cones are ripe and very hard. Theyare about the color, size and shape ofa small blue huckleberry. I found oneberry not yet ripe. It was flame-coloredand had a waxy, flesh-like texture.The Elephant Tree valley was assilent as the valley I had visioned, butnot lonely. It was filled with a vastwarm quieta majestic living silence.We sat happily, left reluctantly.A white star burned above SplitMountain. And the Elephant Tree,standing like a solitary prophet in thevalley, slowly became a dark silhouetteagainst the darkening sky.

O D R N I Z .

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135 So. Fourth St. EL CEN TRO Phone 136

W A N T E DDESERT PICTURES

Prize contestannouncement

TO THE amateur photographerwho sends in the best photo-graphic print each month theDesert Magazine will pay cashprizes of $6.00 to first place and$4.00 for second place winners.There is no restriction as to theplace of residence of the photog-rapher, but prints must be essen-tially of the desert.Here are the subjects which willbe favored by the judges:Close-ups of desert animal life.Close-ups of desert flora.Unusual personal or candidcamera pictures.Desert homes and gardens.Strange rock formations.Exceptional pictures of desertwater-holes and out-of-the-wayscenic places.While other types of picturesar e not excluded, the above willbe given the preference.Rules governing the contest fol-low:1Pictures submitted in No-vember contest must be receivedin the office of the Desert Maga-zine by November 20.2Winners will be required tofurnish original negatives if re-quested.3Prints must be in black andwhite, 21/4x31/4 or larger.4No pictures will be returnedunless postage is furnished.For non-prize-winning picturesaccepted for publication $2.00each will be paid.Winners will be announced and

the prize pictures in the Novem-ber contest published in the Janu-ary issue of Desert Magazine.Address all entries to

CONTEST EDITOR, Desert MagazineEl Centro, California

FOR PLUMBING SEEB l a c k m a n P l u m b i n g C o .PHONE 1047

EL CENTRO, CALIF.24 Mention the Desert Magazine toAdvertisers The DESERT MAGAZINE


25/40

Sandstonea me

Just ordinary sandstonethe most worth-less me mb er of the rock family. But thesedesert folks gathered a few truck loadsfrom the nearby hills and built a comfort-able and unique home. Here is their story.Sketch by TOMMY TOMSON

B ROWN desert sandstone, tons and tons of large flat slabs, werebrought from the nearby ancient beachline of vanished Lake Cahuillato build the unique desert home of Mr. and Mrs. T. M. Montgomeryat Niland, California.Comfortable, spacious, and solid, the home demonstrates what can bedone with native materials, plus much labor and planning . Set in abackdrop of desert vegetation, the rough exterior walls harmonize withthe surroundings. The wide front porch identifies the house as earlyCalifornia style with modifications planned by the owners to make itan ideal desert home.Although the house is built to accommodate a small family, a separateguest house provides sufficient additional sleeping quarters and empha-sizes the effect of spaciousness.Foundations of concrete are deep and huge reinforced blocks supportit on bed clay. W alls are uniformly 18 inchef, thick. A huge eucalyptuslog suppo rts rustic rafters on the front po rch. The same wood is usedfor the rustic pergo la terrace at the rea r. An outdoor fireplace adds

charm to the terrace. The same sandstone which went into the walls isused on floors of terrace and porch.The roof is finished with hand -split cedar shakes. Heavy redwoodrailw ay ties were used for lintels, then antiqued. The beautiful inte riorfireplace is topped with a polished ironwood mantelpiece. Windows arelarge, providing complete air circulation.

Floors are of three-width pegged mahogany on a pine subfloor.The ten-foot ceiling is antiqued with heavy beams and ironwork.W alls are finished light and woodwork is stained dark. Theearly California motif is carried out in all interior finish.In addition to the principal building, Mr. and Mrs. Mont-gomery have a two car garage, tool house, three-room guesthouse, laundry house, and corrals on the large lot, the wholesurrounde d by a sandstone and redwood picket fence. Atholtrees and oleander form a conspicuous part of the landscapingplan . Young citrus trees are set out. Rocks line the graveleddriveways.Total floor space is approximately 1800 square feet in themain house. A carload of cement and 20 barrels of lime wereused in the construction. Princ ipal cost in this type of homeis consumed in labor.Kenneth A. Gordon, Pasadena, was the architect.N o v e m b e r , 1 93 7

GUEST HOUSt


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ti BOLD EMORY"Continued from Page 11

and quick grasp of essentials. Tablesof astronomical figures, of little interestto the average reader, are safely tuckedaway in the appendix, leaving the nar-rative free for lucid description andcrowning incident.First Reporter of the Desert

A review of Emory's notes would bean exhaustive commentary on the man-ners, morals, and foibles of the peoplehe met, a vivid description of his com-pany and the land through which hepassed. He told a coherent story of ahistoric march without apparent at-tempt to draw biased conclusions. Hewas a reporter, not a critic. His re-ports of the battles fought in the "sec-ond conquest" of California are ac-cepted as authentic.Emory was one of the busiest men inthe company during the ten weeks' jour-ney from Santa Fe to Warner's Ranch.The greater part of the trip was madein deserts which had never been map-ped. The motorist who now travels thesame distance in two days will findit difficult to understand the rigors ofdesert travel in 1846. Learning thatEmory had time to observe an oaktree which now bears the name Quercusemoryii and that he took voluminousnotes on other desert plants, the modernwill increase his appreciation ofEmory's talents.The weary company finally passedthrough the California sierras and ar-rived at Warner's, sensing that its jour-ney was near an end. Emory joined thefestivities and welcomed the entertain-ment and hospitality of Sailor Bill.He woke long before dawn on the fate-ful morning of December 6, 1846, toride with General Kearney at the headof a battered column of fighters intothe camps of Andres Pico's Californialancers. Surviving the two-day slaughterwhich marked the Golden State's onlydisastrous military battle, he helped

nurse the wounded and bury the dead.He carefully found time to take night-ly observations of latitude and longti-tude for his precious reports.When Kearney was severely woundedin the first encounter, it was Emorywh o led the charge on "Starvation Hill"in San Pasqual valley, the strongestposition held by the Americans duringthe battle.

Aid from San DiegoCarson and Beale slipped through theCalifornian's picket lines and broughtback aid from San Diego. The shat-tered remnants of the Army of the West

finally reached the edge of the Pacificand the end of their journey. Kearneyreported the death of 18 men and thewounding of 13 more in a battle withina day's walk of the port. And he hadtraveled more than eight months forthis inglorious humiliation!After a little delay, CommodoreStockton accompanied General Kearneywith reinforcements of Navy men foran overland attack on the pueblo ofLos Angeles. Emory joined the move-ment to make observations of the sou-thern California terrain, reporting thetwo minor encounters with GeneralFlores' Californians.Fremont signed a peace treaty withPico on January 13, to the discomfitureof Stockton and Kearney. Before thethree-cornered fireworks had sputteredtoward the explosion point, Emory hadcompleted his preliminary plans for afort in Los Angeles and had hurriedback to San Diego, where he took aship bound for the Isthmus, with hisnotes, sketches, and observations.

Five days after Emory embarked, theragged, exhausted Mormon Battalion,the company of 500 men under Capt. F.St. George Cooke, arrived in San Diego.Traveling on foot from Fort Leaven-worth as a part of the Army of theWest, the Mormons had been left farbehind and did not sight the land theyhad come to conquer until two weeksafter the ink was dry on the peacetreaty.

Emory Given PromotionLt. Emory's reconnaissance reportended at San Diego but his achieve-ments in the southwest did not. Theyear his report was printed he was ap-pointed by the President as chief as-tronomer of the boundary survey. In1854 he received full power to establishthe international line under the GadsenPurchase. In three years he had com-pleted the survey of the 46,000 squaremiles of desert in southern Arizonawhich marked the extension of UnitedStates territory.

The engineer climbed in rank rapidlyafter that, receiving in succession com-missions as major, lieutenant colonel,brigadier general, and major general.He retired from the army in 1876 aftera service of 45 years.No doubt as an old man of 75 years,W. H. Emory often reviewed the dra-matic and adventurous days with theArmy of the West. If he could havelived to see the agricultural wealth onthe upper Gil a, canals, highw ays, andrailroads traversing the deserts he cross-

ed, treacherous Salton Sink turned intoverdant Imperial Valleyhe wouldhave been amazed and gratified.The thousands who are now reclam-ing the desert areas he first mappedshould place the name of Emory highamong the men who "found" the south-west.

Steve RagsdaleContinued from Page 9

Ragsdale dug nine holesall of themdry. Then he brought in a well drillingoutfit and found water at 423 feet. Itcost $12,000 to develop the new well.His difficulties in rai

193711 Desert Magazine 1937 November[1]

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Transcript of 193711 Desert Magazine 1937 November[1]