195411 desert magazine 1954 november

8/14/2019 195411 Desert Magazine 1954 November

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D E S E R T C A L E N D A RNov. 1 Ceremonial Dances, TaosIndian Pueblo, Procession at Dawn,Santa Fe, New Mexico.Nov. 2All Soul's Day, MemorialDay in Spanish villages, NewMexico.Nov. 5-15Arizona State Fair, StateFair Grounds, Phoenix, Arizona.Nov. 6-7Colorado River Roundup,Parker, Arizona.Nov. 6-7Sierra Club Camping inDevil's Punch Bowl and Big RockCreek, California.Nov. 6-7Sierra Club Hike to BlackMoun tain; camp site at Last ChanceCanyon, California.Second Week in Nov.Snow Bowlopens. Flagstaff, Arizona.Nov. 11-14 Annual Death ValleyEncampment, Death Valley, Cali-fornia.Nov. 12St. James Day Fiesta andHarvest Corn Dance at Tesque andJemez Pueblos. Santa Fe, NewMexico.Nov. 13-14 Annual Weed Show,High School, Twentynine Palms.California.Nov. 13-14 Sierra Club DesertCamping and Song-Fest. Cotton-

wood Springs, California.Nov. 13-18Ogden Livestock Show,Ogden, Utah.Nov. 17-19 Southwestern MedicalAssn. Convention, Paso del NorteHotel, El Paso, Texas.Nov. 20-21Elks' Rodeo. Victorville,California.Nov. 20-21Rodeo, Ajo, Arizona.Nov. 20-21 Sierra Club KnapsackHike up San Jacinto Escarpment,California.Nov. 23Finish of Fifth Pan Ameri-can Road Race starting at Guate-malan Border, El Paso, Texas.Nov. 25Desert Sun Rancher's Ro-d e o , Wickenburg, Arizona.Nov. 25-28 Sierra Club Hike ofTelescope, Sentinel, Porter Peaks,Butte Valley, California.After First FrostNavajo .Reserva-tion, Navajo "Yei-be-chi" and FireDance, New Mexico.Late NovemberZuni Pueblo, "Sha-lako" Ceremonies and House

Dances, Santa Fe, New Mexico.September through December 1 "Awatovi Murals" exhibition. Mu-seum of Northern Arizona. Flag-staff, Arizona.

V o l u m e 17C O V E RCALENDARR E U N I O NFIELD TRIPLOST MINEPERSONALITYPOETRYG E O G R A P H YFICTIONEXPERIENCEC O N T E S TNATUREP H O T O G R A P H YPERSONALITYCLOSE-UPSLETTERSN E W SPUZZLEMININGLAPIDARYHOBBYC O M M E N TB O O K S

NOVEMBER, 1954 N u m b e r 11Prospecting on the Rio Grande. Photo by Josef

Muench, Santa Barbara, CaliforniaNovember events on the desert 3Death Valley Days 4Nature's Tumbled Gems at Pisgah

By HAROLD O. WEIGHT 5Lost Gold of Indian Gully

By RUSS LEADABRAND 10Old Chief Tecopa of the Paiutes 12Desert Sunset, and other verses 13Legendary Lake of the Paiutes

By JANE ATWATER 14Hard Rock Shorty of Death Valley 18Life on the Desert

By GRACE M. WILTON 19Announcement of Photo Prizes 20Bird That "Sleeps" all Winter

By EDMUND C. JAEGER 21Pictures-of-the-Month 23He Rode with Buffalo Bill

By WILLARD H. PORTER 24About those who write for Desert 25Comment by Desert's readers 26From Here and There on the Desert 27True or False Quiz 32Current news of desert mines 33Amateur Gem Cutter, by LELANDE QUICK . . 34Gems and Minerals 35Just Between You and Me, by the Editor . . . 42Reviews of current Southwestern books . . . 43The Desert Magazine is published monthly by the Desert Press, 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, 187fl. Title registered No. 358865 in U. S. Patent Office,and contents copyrighted 1954 by the Desert Press, Inc. Permission to reproduce contentsmust be secured from the editor in writing.

BESS STACY, Business ManagerEVONNE RIDDKLL, Circulation ManagerANDALL HENDERSON, EditorDAVID E. ZANDER, Sales ManagerUnsolicited manuscripts and photographs submitted cannot be returned or acknowledgedunless full return postage is enclosed. Desert Magazine assumes no responsibility fordamage or loss of manuscripts or photographs although due care will be exercised. Sub-scribers should send notice of change of address by the first of the month preceding Issue.SUBSCRIPTION RATESOne Veal' $3.50 Two Years $6.00Canadian Subscriptions 2.>oKxfra, Foveign 50c ExtraSubscriptions to Army Personnel Outside U. S. A. Must Be Mailed in Conformity WithP . O. D. Order No.WBS7

Address Correspondence lo I>eserl Magazine, Palm Desert, CaliforniaN O V E M B E R , 1 9 5 4


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Aerial view of Death V alley looking south toward Badwater. Furnac e Creek ranchin right foreground, with landing strip to the left. Furnace Creek Inn is at thecanyon to the left of the ranch. Photo taken in 1936 by Spence Air Photos.1/cdktf .., N o v e m b e r 1 1 - 1 2 - 1 3 - 1 4Recall ing the days when an intrepid caravan of California-boun'J gold-seekers faced death on tr ie alkaline f lats of Death

Valley, the Death Valley '49ers, a non-profit organization, ispreparing to entertain many thousands of visi tors at the 6th annualEncam pmen t to be he ld Novem ber 11-14 th i s year.B . Paul Gru endy ke , p rogram cha i rm an, has comple ted thefo l lowing program of en te r ta inment and cu l tura l events for th i sy e a r ' s E n c a m p m e n t :

THURSDAY. NOVEMBER 112:00 p.m. Conducted tour of Badwater and vicinity. Start fromGovernment Center. Dr. Thomas Clements, chairman.7:00 p.m. Campfire at the Sand Dunes. Community singing ledby Hugo Kirckhofer; Death Valley tales by Ardies Walker.Arthur W. Walker, chairman.FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 128:00 a.m. Artists' Breakfast. The West's Noted Artists in Personand featuring some entertainm ent surprises. Furnace CreekGolf Course. Price $1.50. John W. Hilton, Chairman1 1:00 a.m. Conducted Tour of the North end of Death Valley andScotty's Castle. Dr. Thomas Clements, Chairman1:00 p.m. Death Valley Scotty Memo rial Dedication at Scotty'sCastle. Randall Henderson, Chairman4:00 p.m. Painting Demonstration at Furna ce Creek Inn by JohnW. Hilton.7:00 p.m. Cam p Fire at Texas Spring; Com munity Sing led byHugo Kirckhofer: Death Valley Tales by Capt. R. A. Gibsonand Judge James B. Nosser. Ardis M. Walker, Chairman9:00 p.m. Square Dancing, Furnac e Creek Ranch. KinniePowers. ChairmanSATURDAY. NOVEMBER 138:00 a.m. Photo graph ers' Breakfast, presenting outstanding pho-tographers of the west with their own special entertainment.Presentation of a picture to John Lubken, long time chairmanof the Inyo County B oard of Supervisors. Furna ce Creek GolfCourse . Price $1.50. Floyd B. Evans, Chairman10:30 a.m. Conducted Tour of Central Death V alley. Dr. Thom asClements, Chairman2:30 p.m. Burro-Flapjac k Contest. The desert's most entertain-ing feature, with oldtime prospectors participating in the mostnovel race of all time. Location, Stovepipe Wells Hotel.Judge Arthur Manning and Harry Oliver, Co-Chairmen7:00 p.m. Camp Fire at Furnace Creek Ranch; Community Singled by Hugo Kirckhofer; Concert by the North American

Furnace CreekRanch. Kinnie

'49ers Choru s. Robert M orris. Director. George W. Savage.Chairman8:15 p.m. Kodachrome Showing of the finest western color pic-tures by noted photogr aphers. Location,Ranch Hangar. Floyd B. Evans. Chairm an9:30 p.m. Square Dancing. Furnac e CreekPowers. ChairmanSUNDAY, NOVEMBER 147:00 a .m. C athol ic Mass , Furn ace Creek Inn Gard ens . Char lesScholl in Charge7:00 a .m. Pro tes tan t Sunr i se Chu rch Serv ice a t Desola t ion Ca r -yon. Special music by the No rth Am erican '49 ers Ch oru s ledby Robe rt Morris , Direc tor. The Rev erend Ra ndal] C. Phil l ipswill give the Sunrise Mess age. Paul Palm er in Ch arg e8:30 a .m. Authors ' Breakfas t a t the Furnace Creek Gol f Course .Well known western authors in person as guests of honor.See and hear them tell their own stories. Price $1.50. JohnD . H e n d e r s o n , C h a i r m a nThe re is no charge for any of the events on the pro gra m, the

expenses of the Encampment be ing pa id by voluntary member-ships.Since accommodations are very l imited in Death Valley, amajor i ty of those who a t tend the annual Enca mp men t take the i rown bedro l l s and camp out . Vis i to rs should car ry an ample supplyof water, and also firewood if they plan cam p cooking . Gen erallythe wea ther is mild in Nove mb er and ou tdoo r l iving on thespaciou s floor of Dea th Valley is no h ards hip.George W. Savage, president of the '49ers, has extended aninvitat ion to al l who would care to part icipate in this unique 4-dayp r o g r a m .YOU MA Y BE A MEMBER

Membership in the Death Valley 49ers is open to all whocontribute to the expen ses of the annu al Enc ampm ent. If youwant a membership card and a windshield st icker for yourcar, you may send your dues to Death Valley '49ers, 501Hall of Records. Los Ange les. The following t ype s of mem-bersh ip a re ava i lab le :Activemembersh ip $Sustaining 2.005.00

PatronSponsorLife membership ........ 10.00... 25.00. 100.00Surplus funds in the treasury are set aside for the build-ing ol a Death Valley Museum, and all Life Membership feesgo into that fund.

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


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At the western edge of Pisgah Crater, in a sandy bay in the lava flow, wind andsand have established a sort of great tumbling barrel, where colorful bits of jasperand chalcedony and moss agate have been semi-polished into natural baroque gems.Nature's TumbledGems at Pisgah. .

By HAROLD O. WEIGHTPhotos by the AuthorMap by Norton AllenHEN LUCILE appeared in thedoorway, rock-collecting sackin hand and eyebrows raisedinquiringly, I knew she must havebeen reading my thought-waves. Witha soft breeze drifting down off thebajada and powder-puff clouds inten-sifying the rich blue sky above ourdesert mountains, I 'd been ransackingmy brain for any excuse to abandonmy desk and get outdoors.

"Com e on!" said Lucile. "Let'spick out that necklace today!""Sure!" I approved eagerly, and halfslipped the cover over the typewriterbefore the sense of her words pene-trated. Then I stopped short, fran-tically trying to recollect any promiseof jewelry and to reassure myself thatI hadn't forgotten a birthday or anni-versary.

Lucile laughed at my consternation."The necklace over at Pisgah," sheexplained. 1 relaxed then. I remem -bered that necklace, all right.It all started at the Rockhound Fairheld at Desert Magazine Pueblo inFebruary, 1952. There Lucile and Isaw our first examples of the nuggetor "tumbled" gems which were eventhen on their way to becoming a na-tional fad. These stones also are calledbaroque gems, and in the sense mean-ing "artistically irregular," that wordprobab ly is the best descrip tion. Theyhave been smoothed and then polished in natural or irregular shapes -through being tumbled in revolvingbarrels with abrasives and polishingagents.Since Lucile always favors gem

Though tumbling gems in a bar-rel is a recently developed inno-vation, tumbled gems aren't new.At Pisgah Crater on the MojaveDesert, nature has been tumbl ingjaspers, chalcedony, sard and car-nelian and bits of agate and chal-cedony roses for centuries. Pisgah,13 miles west of Ludlow, California,is surrounded by black rock, pre-senting a desolate appearancethat belies the animal life thatteems on it each night.stones in their native stateor as nearto it as possibleshe was enthusiasticabout the little gems produced by thenew proce ss. I liked them to o, but Iprotested the notion they were some-thing absolutely original in the rock-hound field.

"That's really old stuff," I said."Th ey're copying nature again. I cantake you out to Pisgah Crater, onCalifornia's Mojave desert, and showyou where wind and sand have beenturning out 'nugget gems' for anynumber of centuries."Lucile selected several of the mosthighly polished stones. "Like these?"she demanded.

With her interest so definitelyaroused, I decided I 'd better be asN O V E M B E R , 1 9 5 4


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accurate as possible in my statements.It had been fully a dozen years sinceI last collected any of the little pebblesat Pisgah, but they had made quite animpression on me at the time."They're not quite that shiny," Iqualified. "I guess anyone makingtumbled gems would think they needed

a final polishing session in the barrel.But they are all shaped down andcleaned of matrix, and have a nicewaxy polish which shows their pat-terns and colors. All kinds, too. Reg-ular jaspers, red, green, yellow andbrown moss jaspers, chalcedony, sardand carnelian, and bits of agate andchalcedony roses. I think if you reallytook time to hunt pieces to go to-gether, you could make colorful neck-laces or bracelets or pendants, withno additional work except fasteningon the caps needed.""That sounds good enough," saidLucile. "Ju st think a necklace ofnature's tumbled gems! When do wego?"Well, there are almost numberlessplaces we have promised ourselves wewould visit"just as soon as we can."The Pisgah expedition might still behanging fire if Lucile hadn't seen asmall jar of the Pisgah pebbles whilewe were visiting my mother in Needles.Mother had collected them on our firstvisit to the field, about 1940, and stillconsidered them worthy of a place of

hon or in her desert gem cabinet. An dthe pebbles reminded Lucile that I hadpromised to take her to the spot wherethey grew.Pisgah Crater is located beside High-

way 66, less than 50 airline milesnorthwest and across the BullionMountains from our home at Twenty-nine Palms. But all that beautiful Bul-lion Mountain countrylong one ofthe most popular rock hunting areashas been commandeered by the MarineCorps Training Center, more than800,000 acres in extent and still grow-ing. The area is now completely closedto rock collecting. Pisgah itself es -caped the verboten area only by a hairand because of its proximity to thehighway. In fact, the M arine Baseproperty line actually does cut throughthe southern edge of the cinder cone.

To reach the crater from Twenty-nine Palms, it is necessary to make agreat loop either to the west or theeast. The shortest route, via SheepholePass, is abou t 100 miles. The pav ingof Sheephole Pass road to Amboy isin the opinion of a few of us unre-constructed desert ratsone possiblygood after-effect of the Marin e inva -sion of our valley. The new pavingmakes it easier for the TwentyninePalms residents who moved there forpeace and quiet to escape to desertareas where such conditions still exist.Reaching Amboy, we turned west-ward on 66. Immediately to the leftwas the frowning blackness of Amboycinder cone and flow, and on eitherside of the highway as we drove towardLudlow were other complete or partialcones. Contemporaries of Pisgah, theyare expressive reminders of the vol-canic violence which wracked this partof the Mojave only yesterday in geo-logic time. The late N. H. D arton,noted American geologist, estimated

that the Amboy basalt may havespewed out within the last thousandyears. The fact that the lava flowsfollow present drainage lines in theseareas is evidence of the recentness ofvulcanism.The midnight mass of Pisgahcrouches against the desert about 13miles west of Lud low. The crate r andits lava flow dominate the attention oftravelers along the highway for longdistances in either direction. It is acinder cone klinker-like bits andfragments of lava piled up around thesite of a short-lived explosion of ex-treme violence which occurred whenmolten rock smashed through theearth 's surface. Ar oun d its base twistmiles of tortured black basalt whichthrobbed through breaks in the cone'swalls. Jerry Laudermilk recreated anddramatized the birth of Pisgah Craterin a remarkable story in Desert Maga-zine (March, 1 944). According toJerry, something terrific and terriblein the way of violence and noise tookplace on that day. A look at Pisgah'slandscape would indicate that he wasright.

The "nugget gem" field lies justwest of the point where Pisgah's basaltcrosses Highway 66 . It is largely southof the highway in what amounts to agreat sandy bay in the grim lava flow.The sand probably was blown therefrom Troy dry lake, to the northwest.The semi-polished pebbles found in thebay are an isolated portion of the mag-nificent placer jasper deposits whichcan be found in various places for mileson either side of Pisgah.

My first trip into the area, guided

-VICTORVILLE* LOS ANGELESD f l B E E T Ts PISGAH : ;PISGflH CRflTER

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A tortoise finds his flower delicacies. The tortoise's peculiar combination of acces-sories front flippers which must be punched into the sand, elephant-shaped hindfeet, and thoroughly non-utilitarian little tail result in a distinctive track, easilyidentifiable once it has been recognized.by Mrs. Bertha Frisby, who then hada tiny rock shop near Yermo, was tocollect gem jasper from one of thefields of larger mate rial. We followedthe highway past Pisgah to the east,on that expedition, turning off on theside trail which leads to the railroadstation of Lavic. The turnoff was, andis, most easily identified by airwaybeacon 44-18, located right beside theLavic road. Tod ay, most jasper hunt-ers cross the railroad tracks, but atthat time a few yards from the highwayone found wonderful pieces of all sortsof gem rock, including brilliantly col-ored moss and some plume in clearchalcedony.

So little more than an hour's hunt-ing gave us a good quantity and va-riety of cutting material. The n Mrs .Frisby told us about the field wherethe greater portion of the rocks, whileof the same kinds as those around us,were miniature in size and had beenpolished by the sand. She always en-

joyed seeing what she could find there,she said, and she was certain mymother, in particular, would have adelightful time collecting there. So wedrove on back down the highway andfound a twisting, rutted trail into thearea and started to hunt. And M rs.Frisby was right. Mo ther had a won-derful timebut no more fun thanthe rest of us.Of course we did not realize we werecollecting baroque gems. In fact. Ihad heard the term only for odd-shaped pearls or over-ornate styles ofarchitecture. Probably barrel tum-bling, which was in industrial use thenas a method of smoothing rough cast-ing, had never even been thought ofas a way for rockhounds to polishstones. But, as with many anotherprocess, barrel tumbling received tre-mendous impetus and enjoyed a forcedgrowth in World War II. M ore andmore finishing of various types ofstampings and castings, of various

kinds of material, was done by thismethod. And 1 would guess that itwas some rock-hobbyist working inwar industry at this time who visua-lized the potentialities of barrel tum-bling in his hobby, and perhaps evenworked in a barrel or two of stones onthe night shift.But it is during the past two yearsthat barrel tumbling has passed thestatus of a fad and taken the gem-polishing fraternity by storm . Ho bbymagazines have been full of barrel-construction plans, methods of polish-ing, tales of success and failure, argu-ments pro and con. Opinions haveranged from the declaration that thiswas a millionaire's hobby to the pre-diction that every lapidary shop wouldsoon include a tumbling barrel.Out of the confusion more or lessstandard equipment and methods haveemerged. Baroque gems are now of-fered for sale by most dealers. Gemhobby suppliers are now producing

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tumbling barrels commercially, all mo-tored and geared to the proper speed.If you wish, they will also furnishabrasive and polishing mixes for thevarious steps of the process.The barrel usually is hexagonal inshape, with one to three compartmentsfor stones in various stages of produc-tion. Load capacity varies from 20to 100 poun ds. It is said that a mini-mum of 100 hours is needed to carrystones to a final polishing, even underthe best of conditions. These best con-ditions seldom prevail except with theexperts.Though discussion of the eventualplace of the tumbling barrel continues,there is no doubt that it has become anintegral part of rock-hobbyist opera-tions. Fo r my part, I like the stonesproduced in this fashion very much.But it seems to me that, past thenovelty stage, their appeal will be pri-marily for the jewelry making enthusi-asts rather than those whose chief loveis the polishing of stones.By that I mean that with tumbledgems, the hobbyist 's individuality mustbe shown in the silver or gold work,because the stone is primarily the re-sult of a mech anical proce ss. But thereis no cabochongood or badwhichdoes not reflect the personality, artisticjudgment and technical ability of itsmaker. When I want to work withbaroque stones, I'll buy mine. But thegem cutter, also, can use the tumblingbarrel to great advantage in the rough-ing out of larger stones to determinethe best manner in which they can becut. An d it seems to me that thecombined virtues of tumbling barrelswill make them essential parts, at least,of every gem society lapidary shop.It is particularly interesting thatwhile the stones are called "tumbled"gems, the grinding and polishing actu-ally are done by the sliding motion ofthe rocks against each other, in theabrasive mixture, while the barrel

turn s. If the barr els were revolvedrapidly enough so that the stones wouldactually tumble, there would be littlepolishing indeed. An d it is this iden-tical process of an abrasive slidingwhich has polished the gem pebbles ofPisgah. In this, the wind was the mo -tive agent, eternally whisking fine sandback and forth across the surfaces ofthe stones. An d it is because the sandwas blown across the pebbles, ratherthan the pebbles grinding against oneanother as they do in water worn de-posits, that the little stones are pol-ished in their naturally irregular shapes,just like barrel tumbled gems. Thoseof us who have had windshieldsblasted, enamel polished off cars, andour faces ground raw by desert windand sand know how effective this proc-

ess would be, given a few centuries towork.When Lucile and 1 reached thesandy bay, I found that old trail intothe area had almost vanished. But anew road, broken through the edge ofthe lava flow itself, led along the rimof the pebble field. I was certain thatthe pebbles would be found almostanywhere to the west of this road and,perhaps three-tenths of a mile fromthe highw ay, we started to hu nt. Insome places a car could be drivensafely through the sandy area, in othersit would dig in. But almost im med i-ately we began to find the colorful littlebits of jasper, agate and chalcedonythat I remembered.Picking out Lucile's necklace wasmore difficult than I had expected,however. There were quantities ofstones about the right size, but theirvariety was so great that it was hardto find pieces to match. We finallyfound a number of attractive pieces bycollecting types of pebblesred moss,chalcedony and the likeon the theorythat when we had enough of a generalshade or material it would be possibleto select from them a group that wouldbe artistically compatible.Most of the stones in the field runfrom pea size to chunks about as bigas a fist, with the smaller ones in greatmajority. Th ere is a possibility thatthis area carried only the smaller sized

stones at the time it was separatedfrom the rest of the jasper by the lavaflow. Or it may be that the great con-centration of small rocks is due to theexcessive action of the wind and sandin the pocket, which has simply wornthem down to these sizes. To know theexact reason why Nature placed herbaroque gem factory at this particularpoint would require an intimate knowl-edge of the whole geological history ofthe huge placer jasper deposit sur-rounding Pisgah. Jasper of identicalnature can be found in places in theCady Mountains northeast of Pisgah,but it also can be found in the BullionMountains to the southeast, and the

field may represent erosional remnantsfrom either range.The larger pieces of gem jasperproved rugged obstacles to our collec-tion of the little stone s. No o ne isgoing to pass up a lovely piece of redand green moss, or of apple-greenchalcedony, such as Lucile found, justbecause it is bigger than the stones heis supposed to be gathering. Andsomehow, first thing we knew, ourcollecting eyes were adjusted to thelarger pieces and we had trouble see-ing the smaller ones.

If one does want larger pieces ofLavic and Pisgah jasper exclusively,however, other parts of the depositwill offer better retur ns. Lucile and1 stopped at the old collecting area,between the highway and the railroadat the Lavic turnoff, on our way toPisgah Desp ite at least 15 years ofintensive collecting at this spot, wewere able to find some good materialclose to the road in the few minuteswe took to search. Farth er sou th, jas-per is reported as still abundant. Thereis plenty of material still to be foundin the field on west of the pebble area,reached from the turnoff at highwaypost 114, which John Hilton describedin Desert Magazine in January, 1946And rockhounds who enjoy prospect-ing can find other sections of thisgreatest of Mojave jasper fields stillvirtually untouched.

Our pebble collecting circuit event-ually brought us to the Pisgah CVaterroad again, and I followed it fartherinto the lava flow, only to come upona locked chain at a place difficult toturn around . From this point we couldsee that much work had been done onthe southwestern slope of the cindercone. Later, from the California Di-vision of Mines, we learned that theoperation had been carried on by Mt.Pisgah Volcanic Cinders and that asmall tonnage of cinders had beenmined largely for test pu rpo ses. Cin -ders are used as an aggregate in stuccoand plaster.Looking out across the sea of blackrock to Pisgah, from the road in thelava flow, it is difficult to imagine ascene that would appear more desolateand lifeless. A nd look ing in at thecone and the grim basalt desert fromthe highway, it would seem a certaintythat here was one spot which all liv-ing things avoided. But whenever Ivisit Pisgah there is a side excursionI always makeback into the lavaflow from the sandy bay near the high-way. For he re the secret of Pisgah isrevealed . He ie are little poc kets ofwhite sand in the black rocklittlevalleys and hillocks and dales. An dwhen they are visited early in the morn-ing after a quiet night, there is scarcelya square foot of sand that is not fretted



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with the markings of some bit of life,large or small.Pisgah is not a barren and lifelessland. It is a world teem ing with life,a very haven for small desert thingsof num ber beyond counting. Here areinsects and lizards and snakes andpackrats and kangaroo rats and pocketmice and chipmunks and rabbits andfoxes and coyotes and birds. Anddesert tortoiseswe must not forgetthe desert tortoise.

One of our favorite pastimes, inplaces like this, is to search out thetracks of the little desert folk andspeculate upon the identity of thetrack-ma ker. Some are easy the fa-miliar pads of the coyote and the kitfox, the individual pattern of the rab-bit, the tail and toe script of the mousefamily. But on this last trip there wasone track that puzzled us both. Wetried first to read it sideways, ratherthan in the direction it was actuallygoing. An d that way, as Lucile said,it looked as if two mites had dancedside by side, never varying their steps.

We followed the track from cove tocove, wondering at its wandering, itsstubborn uphill strivings, its recklessplungings. Then suddenly, in asmoother area, we noted a wrigglytwist between the tracks which couldonly have been made by that absurdlittle pigtail of the desert tortoise, andat the same time we came upon a clearimprint of his firm, round, claw-deco-rated hind leg. And the determinedsearchings into odd corners were ex-plained . He had been seeking choiceflowers or buds for breakfast.I do not know why such an appar-ently barren land as the black andwhite desert of Pisgah should attractsuch a host of crea tures . Of cou rse,all the little caves and gas holes andcracks in the lava flow furnish safehomes for almost any kind and sizeof anim al. An d there is a surprisingamount of vegetation in the black andwhite wilderness. As for water, I won-der if, perhaps, the lava pockets filledwith sand do not provide numberlesslittle natural tanks, which trap what-ever moisture may fall and keep it inamounts sufficient for tiny thirsts. And,of course, there is the tremendous ad-vantage that man is seldom seen insuch barren areas.

At any rate, one trip into the littlevalleys of the Pisgah flow will convinceyou forever that this is a land of theliving rather than the dead. And ifyou should go there after a wet spring,you also will discover that it is a landof beauty, for the wildflowers, geraea,purple phacelias and the rest, seem toglow with increased color against thesomber backgroun d of lava. But whyshould I limit beauty to the spring?

Looking across the hardened sea of black Una the cinder cone of Pisgahpresents a desolate lifeless scene. Structures a t right on the cone, are theworkings of Mt. Pisgah Volcanic Cinders.Fall and winterand summer if youare foolish enough to gamble with thefierce and dangerous heat of this burntlandthe little pebbles of Pisgah sup-ply beauty for those who will appre-ciate it.

As perhaps you may remeir.ber, itwas from another Pisgah, high onNebo, above the plains of Moab, thatMoses looked out and saw the prom-ised land. [ do not know whether ou rPisgah was named because from itsheight some traveler thought he sawthe desert's edge, or whether it wasso named in derision. But sometim es

,

there is an unexpected truth in ourdreams or our jests. The black andburnt land upon which Pisgah looksdown is indeed a promised land for itsmany inhabitants, and a pleasant one.And 1 think that rockhoun ds wholove the desert in its many faces and

its many moods will find at Pisgah thefulfilled promise of a fascinating anda pleasant outing. And, consideringher lack of technological training and ofthe latest n, modern equipment. Ithink they will find Nature's tumblingbarrel has done a very nice job ofturning out miniature gems there.

But in the little pockets of sand, the valleys and dales, is a secret worldteeming with living creatures. Cody Mountains in background.N O V E M B E R , 1 9 5 4


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"It is but a short walk up to theplace," the Indian said. "Thesmall gold pieces cover the sand.There is much gold."

Lost Gold of Indian Gully . . .Fifty years have passed since the Indian, Julian Cabrias, displayednuggets which he said he picked up from the sand in a gully in Cali-fornia's Oriflamme Mountains. The one living man who saw the nuggetshas searched for their source intermittently during most of his lifetimein vain. But he believes the story to be true, for he saw the nuggets.

By RUSS LEADABRANDIllustrated by Don PercevalMap by Norton AllenAND sinister, the hump-backed ridges of the OriflammeMountains rear up out of theback country of California's San DiegoCounty, east of Julian and south ofBanner.

Beyond the Oriflamme lies Earth-quake Valley and many an old-timercan tell you strange stories about theplace. Some say that the ghosts ofdead IndiansIndians slaughtered bythe Spanishkeep an endless watchover a hidden cache of gold here.

Others who have watched the strangelights in the night shake their grizzled10

heads and give the strange, uninvitingslopes a wide detour when prospectingthe area.Harry Yarnell was one man whowent into the Oriflamme Mountainsand saw the Indian gold.He saw the smooth, golden nuggetsgleaming in the light of a campfire ona night when the cattle were restlessand sleep came hard.Later he came back to claim thisgold for his own.It all started a long time ago . . .It was 1914. September that yearbrought blistering ruin to Valley Cen-ter and Chatty Helm's ranch in thehills.Chatty had a herd of cows, dairy

stock, and had to move them downinto the Imperial Valley where feedwas a little better. Harry Yarnell, agangling youngster who was foreverprospecting the back-country hills, gota riding job.The trail led down the range throughthe Indian reservations and Chattyalso signed on one of the Mission In-diansa quiet horseman of possibleCahuilla stock.The first night the party beddeddown where Lake Henshaw nowstands. Cutting up against the horizonstood Monkey Hill, where a circuswagon was wrecked years before andits caged animals ran free to leave acolorful name in a drab landscape.There was a spring there then, theman-made lake was to come later.Yarnell and the Indianhe called him-self Julian Cabrias got to yarningover the campfire about gold in theback country. Cabrias told of seeing

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OLD BUTTERFieU)STAGE ROUTEIMPERIAL HIGHWAY.

gold in many places during his casualcomings and goings in the ruggedwastelands of the state.Yarnell listened to stories of goldin the Santa Rosas, of old mines be-yond the M ontezuma claims, of ancientdiggings in the Santa Ysabel hills andof a lode in the bad country beyondSan Felipe."I will show you," Cabrias promised.And Yarnell figured it was just an-other yarn and kicked dirt on the camp-fire and crawled into his blanket.It was a hot, dusty trek down theSan Felipe Valley. They followed theold Butterfield Stage route where mailwas once carriedand twice a weekat thatfrom St. Louis to San Fran-cisco in 21 days.The third night the herd made it toEarthquake Valley. The stock wasrestless that evening and Chatty Helmsent the Indian out to quiet the ani-mals.Cabrias came back to the campfirejust after sunset."Look," he said to Yarnell and heheld his palm out in the firelight.Light from the flames caught andshone on a half a dozen golden nug-

gets, the largest about the size of apeanut ."I found these like I tell you," Ca-brias said in a matter-of-fact ton e.Yarnell and the Indian walked to-gether in the growing gloom to a place

half an hour from their cam p. Cabriasstopped at the mouth of a small draw.In the rainy season a stream probablyrushed down out of this small canyonbut now it was dry and barren."It is but a short walk up to theplace," the Indian said and pointed upthe draw. "Th e small gold piecescover the sand. I have heard my peopletell of this place man y times. Th ere ismuch gold."And as it grew dark Yarnell madea cairn of stones at the mouth of thecanyon. A small cairn, one that hewould recognize when he returnedfrom El Centro, but not a conspicuouspile that would attract attention.The next day the herd was drivendown the box canyon toward CoyoteWell and on the way the Indian toldYarnell that another "place of muchgold" existed to the west, over beyondPine Valley.Yarnell, no longer a skeptic, mademental notes and promised himself toreturn to the Oriflaromes as soon asthe riding job was over.In El Centro things became compli-cated. Yarn ell was offered an othe r joba job too good to turn down-thattook him north again up the west rimof the Salton Sea and into Riverside.There one night he told anotherprospector about the cairn in Earth-quak e Valley. The next mo rning theprospector, burro and all were missingfrom town.

It was spring before Yarnell foundhimself again on the trail down throughthe San Felipe Valley. Th e oaks andwillows stood green over acres of grassand cattle grew fat as they grazed.A spring thundershower followedhim into Earthquake Valley and thatnight he watched the play of lambentfire on the Oriflamme ridges. Or heimagined he saw the racing fire ballsthat cut from ridge to ridge and thenblinked out.Maybe it was heat lightning playingfunny tricks. M aybe it was what sail-ors at sea call St. Elmo's Fire. Maybeit was the ghosts of long-dead savagesprotecting a fortune that once wastheirs.Or maybe it was imagination.It was hard getting to sleep thatnight, whatever it was.The cairn was gone.The spring rains might have car-ried the pile of stones away or a pros-pector from Riverside could havekicked the mar ker down. Th at follow-ing morning Yarnell viewed the spotwith dismay.Yarnell prowled the draw for hours.He was sure it was the right one butit yielded nothing.Some of the time he crawled up thesandy gully on his knees, sifting thesand with his fingers as he went.From there he went to the neighbor-ing gullies. Nothing looked the same

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as it had that evening in the crowdingdark.He spent a week on the spot andcursed himself for waiting and talkingso much.In Banner, where fortunes have beentaken out of the ground, he got theclincher."Understand George Benton hit itrich," one leather-faced desert rat toldhim."How's that?" Yarnell inquired."Found a boulder, wire gold stick-ing out of it. Must have weighed aton. Took it to the stamp mill at PineValley, George did. More 'n $3000he got outta it.""Pine Valley!" It rang a bell some-where. Yarnell remembered what theIndian had said about "another placeof much gold" to be found beyondPine Valley.George Benton had found one ofthe Indi an's sites. Yarnell went backto Earthquake Valley the next day tolook again for the lost gold of IndianDraw.Yarnell never saw Julian Cabriasagain.And he never found the rich pocketof nuggets that the Indian had swornwas up that gully in the OriflammeMountains.In more recent years mines havebeen dug in the area and some goldhas been taken out.George Benton's bigboulder of rockand goldand it did weigh a tonisa matter of record now.But the big find of nuggets up In-dian Draw has never been made.Yarnellno longer a young manstill prospects in the Oriflammcs. Hehasn't given uphope that some eveningwhen strange lights dance across thosebarren ridges he'll stumble upon thedusty, narrow wash that was oncemarked with a cairn.And then he'll walk a short way upthe gully to a place where bright golden

nuggets cover the sand.It maytake a while, but then what'stime to a desert rat? N A V Y TO M A K E G U N N E R YR A N G E OF SALINE VALLEY

INYOWord has been received inInyo County that the Navy will takeover Saline Valley as an aerial gunneryrange for the U. S. Marine Corps. Theexact boundaries of the newrange arenot available, but Admiral Rees in aletter to Representative Claire Englestated, "The location considered mostappropriate for the air-to-air gunneryrange lies chiefly within a former ArmyAir Force aerial gunnery rangecomprising approximately 1,338,000acres." Twoyears ago, the Navy hadasked for all of this territory, however,

the present request is for two-thirds ofthis area. Adm iral Rees went on to sayin his letter: "The proposed Navyrange totals 879,360 acres, largelypublic domain lands, which can beacquired free of claims and cost. Pri-vate claims, ehiefly in the form of min-eral andgrazing rights, are confined toabout 50,000 acres in widely dispersedlocations throughout the range. Theacreage includes state school and taxdeeded lands. The Saline Valley gun-nery range was authorized by PublicLaw 534 of the 83rd Congress. Toimplement this project, $160,000, prin-

cipally for the purchase of privateclaims to mineral and grazing rights,have been requested in the Supple-mental Appropriation Bill. This billwas subsequently approved by boththe House and Senate before its ad-journme nt." District Attorney Loun-dagin, who has waged a two-yearbattle to prevent this action, said thatunless theNavy relents, theroad whichInyo county has built in Saline Valleyrecently, would be useless becauseportions of it would go through thegunnery range and travel would beprohibited. Inyo Independent.

O ld C h i e f T e c o p a o f t h e P a i u t e sOn his first trip West, in the early years of this century, John A. Stebbinsof HiVista, near Lancaster, California, took many photographs with his GunlachMan hattan 8x10 camera. Recalled to the East to serve in World War I, he putmost of hispictures instorage, where prints, negatives andrecords were destroyedby fire. A few prints he had taken with him were preserved, and several ofthese came to light recently. One was this photo, believed to be of old ChiefTecopa of thePaiutes.Chief Tecopa was one of the Indian characters of the Old West. Wearinghis band uniform, gift of a Los Angeles banker, and a tall stovepipe hatdecorated with a faded ribbon rosette, he used to beg quarters from passengers

riding Santa Fe trains on the Goff to Ivanpah run. He died around 1906,probably soon after this picture was taken, and the band uniform and top hatwere buried with him. Indians came from miles around to attend the funeraland spent three days celebrating andgambling.The town of Tecopa, California, was named after the colorful old chief.It is said that he later demanded $200 for the use of his name, which is derivedfrom thePaiute word, tecopet, "wildcat."12 DESERT MAGAZINE


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Photograph by Ben Pope, Dinuba, California.COME WITH ME

By AMY VIAUSanta Ana, CaliforniaCome with me as dawn lights the darknessAnd let us wander a desert way;Let us go content with the silenceThat lifts to the sky with the glow of day.Let us pause in a measure of musing,While steeped in the wonder of the desertspanAnd the view of mountains rimming itsvastnessWhere once the tides of waters ran.Let our hearts be as one with the stillnessAs we bar our thoughts from outer dins;Let us garner a silence for keepingWhen the desert way ends and the highwaybegins. FROM OAK CREEK VISITORS

By CONSTANCE WALKERLos Angeles, CaliforniaWe shall dream about the canyonWhere the water, mountain-cool,Rushes down through walls of red rockOr becomes an angler's pool;Almost hear the oak leaves rustleAt the foot of Schnebly Hills,Or the rattle of cicadaeDrown a musicale of rills.And the most amazing soloOf a tiny canyon wrenWill repeat a lyric song-burstIn our memories again.

DEATH VALLEY MOUNTAINSBy LAURA HOLLON HENDERSONLa Mesa, CaliforniaMountains in the distance

Propped against the sky,Lonely, secretive mountains.Their heads towering high.At their knees brown foothills,In a crooked row,Stand like little childrenThat forgot to grow.

'De&entBy G EO . F. RANSOMLos Angeles. California

The mellow light of a sun unseenSlips over the jagged crestOf the rugged peak (whose slopes of graySeem like a barrier 'twixt night and day.As they rise on the east and west),While it paints on the crags of the east-ern rangeA marvel of colors that ever change.In tint and tone and hue,As pink gives place to shades of redOn the sunny side of the watershed,Then turn to maroon and blue;While over the peak bands of sepia lieWhich soften to blend with the azure sky.Then the sides of the hills grow dimAnd the glades grow cold in gray and brown.For the day is done and the sun is downOver the earth's round rim;And night paints black the desert scene. OLD ROADSBy ENOI.A CHAMBERLINLos Alamitos, California1 traveled back along old roads today.Beneath a sky fresh-washed with indigo.The greasewood made the same dark ap-plique

Upon the desert's wide-flung domino.The centuried hills still slumbered, no decayHad marred their robes of tawny calico.But scattered ashesmute and broken lyresAlone were left of all my singing fires.PRAYING MANTIS

By GRACE PARSONS HARMONDesert Hot Springs, CaliforniaThe mantis is a right strange bug:The one head-turnervery smugAbout that trait just he possesses,And praying attitude he stresses.The one 1 put out-doors todayLeered up at me, then flexed to pray.He raised those claws in prayerful pose,But held his thumb before his nose!

AUTUMN'S LAST STANDBy ELSIE MCKINNON STRACHANSanta Ana, CaliforniaAutumn's tent is still tonightStill with star-lit hush.Yucca trees stand silent guardWhere the shadows brush.Winds have laid their trumpets down.Leaves have ceased parading.Peace has filled the desert-dark,No small sound invading.Autumn's tent is pitched where stillMoonlit dunes wear winter's chill. OLD RUINSBy GRACE BARKER WILSONKirtland, New MexicoNot ever will you laugh again.The ones who made your joy are sleeping;And only ghosts of happy menAbove your ruins watch are keeping.Through cracks within your ancient wallsDay after day the sands are creeping:The dust of years has closed your halls.And silence covers all your weeping.

Steefe andBy TANYA SOUTH

Still one by one they guard the trail,The Sentinels that never failStaunch Virtues. Ready, one by one.Justice stands firm beneath the sun,With beetling brows. Prim Prudence,too.And Conscience waiting all anewTo judge your bidding. Proud andfine,Nobility salutes. There shineSweet Kindness, Tenderness andTruth.They are the very gist and truthOf our evolving. There they stand,All at attention, all on hand,Swift to salute, pass or retardOur guard.

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Pyramid Lake, Nevada, from the east. The pyramid to the right may have beenthe "very remarkable rock" for which Fremont named the lake in 1884. The"Squaw and her Basket" (see photo, facing page) is dwarfed in the center of thepicture, with tufa formations to its left. Anahoe Island in the right background.

L egendary L ake of the PaiutesAccording to Indian legend. Pyramid Lake, on the Paiute reserva-tion in Nevada , was created by a heartbroken mother's tears. Geolo-gists, of course, have different theories, in spite of thehuge tufa squawand weathered rock basket which still stand on the east shore, mutetestimony, as itwere, tothe Indian tale. Here is thestory of a fascinatingdesert lake, largest remnant of a once great inland seaits geology,history, fish and bird inhabitants and the Indians who l ive nearby.

By JANE ATWATERPhotos by Adrian AtwaterM ap by Norton Allen

T F IRST we thought it was amirage. Wewere driving northfrom Reno on Highway 33through Nevada desert hills when wetopped a barren rise and suddenly sawthe incredible blue expanse of Pyra-mid Lake spread out below us. Itscool turquoise beauty seemed out of

place in the dry hillocks and washesof the surrounding desert.The treeless shoreline curved grace-fully, interrupted occasionally by pilesof tufa-encrusted rocks inweird forma-tions. Giant heads, big beehives some overturned to display more ef-fectively their honeycomb structuresan d a variety of designs captured ourfancy. We let our imaginations runwild andidentified butter churns, teddybears, cherubs and patriarchs all en-tombed in stone.

Pyramid Lake's water supply comesfrom another famous western lake notmore than a hundred miles distant asthe Trucke e River flows. Lak e Taho e,largest of the Sierra Nevada lakes, isannually replenished with spring run-off from heavy winter snows andsharesthis bounty with its desert offspring2500 feet below.From Lake Tahoe, at an altitude of6225 feet, the Truckee River tumblesdown the eastern Sierra slope acrossthe California-Nevada border, rushesthrough the deep gorge of TruckeeCanyon bisecting the city of Reno andthen meanders through the desert toempty itself into Pyramid Lake below.Tahoe and Pyramid lakes are lessthan 50 air miles apart.Highway 33 travels the southeasternen d of the lake until it intercepts High-

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way 34 angling north at Nixon. Pyra-mid Lake lies entirely within the 325,-000 acres set aside as a reservation forthe Paiute Indian s. Adm inistrativeheadq uarters are at Nixon. The tribeis incorporated, and the chairman ofthe Tribal Council is Avery Winne-mucca, great-grandson of the famousold Chief Winnemucca.The main street in Nixon is paved,gas pumps are conspicuous in front ofthe Paiute Trading Post where touristsstop to buy Indian handicraft, andvehicles of all vintages are parkedwherever seemed convenient to theirIndian owners.At the Post Trader Store, which hasbeen in operation for 65 years, we metElda Ack erma n. Elda barters in theold-fashioned way, trading food andclothing with the Indians for their craftwork.Brother David, the former GarethHughes of early day moviedom, is theEpiscopal missionary in Nixon. Sogrea t is his con cern a nd affection forhis Indians that he has turned downoffers to return to Hollywood andfame. His message to his congre ga-tion is simple and direct, and he is ahighly respected and dearly loved mem-ber of the community.Besides the two stores, there is ageneral meeting hall, headquartersbuilding for reservation authorities, aschool and Brother David's church.Of the 450 Paiutes on the reservation,most of them live in and around Nixon,on their ranches or smaller plots ofground. The principal industry is cat-tle raising. M ost of the Ind ians ' needsare fulfilled at the trading pos ts. Oc -casionally a special purchase necessi-tates a trip to Reno, 40 miles distant.A trip to the city is an important eventin a Paiute family's life.Approximately eight miles north ofNixon on Highway 34, a dirt roadhead s nort h. We followed it through

cuts and over hills until we found our-selves "opposite a very remarkablerock" as Fremont called it when hecamped there in 1844 on his secondtrip of exploration through the north-west. This rock, Frem ont noted, "rose,according to our estimation, 600 feetabove the water, and from the point weviewed it, presented a pretty exact out-line of the great pyramid of Cheops."Fremont named the lake PyramidLake .Standing on Fremont's old campsite,we looked up at the precipitous three-

sided mass of igneous rock. A whiteband of crusted lime 40 feet high en-circles the base and marks the waterline of historic times. A few w eather-beaten evergreens cling to the top ofits otherw ise barren surface. On the

western facet of the pyramid about 10feet above the water line two streamsof boiling water shoot forth under ter-rific pressure, pouring an estimated200 gallons of water a minute into thelake. High up on the pyramid, steamissues trom fissures in the walls.Our interest shifted from the pyra-

mid to the "Squaw and her Basket," atufa formation on the shore below.We recalled the story of the easilyrecognizable rock."Many years ago," the Paiute legendrelates, "an old Indian woman hadtwo sons who were constantly quarrel-ing with each other. As the fights be-came more frequent and violent, theirmother told them unhappily that theymust part. She pointed to the northand sent one in that direction. Theother she guided to the south."Then the old woman, her heart

heavy with sorrow, took a basket andwalked into the desert. She sat downand began to weep, her tears flowinginto a pool until it became a lake."According to the legend, this lake isFremont 's Pyramid Lake.To give some credence to the myth,the Paiutes point to the "Squaw andher Basket" sitting on the east side ofthe lake near Fremont's pyramid. Thispeculiar formation, an igneous conethickly veneered with calcareous tufa,has a striking resemblance to an In-dian wom an. The basket, an immense

rock hollowed out by wind, water andsand, lies at her feet.

w * Two cormorant fledglings on Ana-hoe Island in Pyramid Lake. Onthis island, cormorants, sea gulls,pelicans and other water birds areprotected by the Wildlife Service.

The Squaw and tier Basket. According to Paiute legend, an Indian mother,mourning for her departed sons, created Pyram id Lake with her tears.

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To Sparks 6 Reno

To the east of the pyramid is Ana-hoe Island, a three-humped mountainbackbone which rears out of the water500 feet. The western edge of thisisland is steep and rugged. The east-ern flank drops to a sloping beachwhich extends for a mile before it endsat water's edge. On this shoulder,pro-tected from the westerly winds, thou-sands of pelicans, cormorants, seagullsan d a few other species of waterfowllive under wildlife service protection.Perhaps the most notable feature ofthe island is the thousands of whitepelicans which fly here every springto rear their young. These spectacular

and clumsy migrants settle down ontheir breeding grounds in March. Ifone scans the skies during the seasonhe often is rewarded by the thrillingsight of great irregular wedges of doz-ens of snowy white bodies swinging inwide circles high in the air, flashingblack bordered wings.Since these birds, like the cormor-ants and California brown pelicans,

nest in large colonies, one may findfour or five areas, each covering morethan an acre, on the higher shoulderof Anahoe Island. When a newflockarrives, hundreds of parents set aboutthe business of building nests to de-

posit the usual two chalky white eggs.Then incubation begins with the suntaking its turn at the nest. The eggshatch after four weeks and the nakedyoungsters lie in helpless ugly squalor,panting in the hot sun which seemsintense enough to roast them alive.Occasionally the mother may be seenstanding over them with herwings out-spread to protect them from the heat.The nests lie soclose together and lookso much alike, one wonders how theparents know their own, or how theeggs and the young survive the awk-ward antics of the oldsters as they flaptheir wings and paw the brush andground with their feet when they takeoff for flight.

When feeding time comes, the par-ent bird stands at the edge of the nestand regurgitates a half digested massof small carp, chub or minnows intoits large orange colored bill and thelittle ones help themselves.A visitor to the colony may be sur-prised to note the different stages ofdevelopment in each area. In one maybe eggs and very new arrivals; in thenext, new arrivals are being trampledand crowded by an older brother orsister already covered with a lightsprinkling of white down. In still an-other, adolescents with flight feathersalready well developed will be huddledtogether among thebushes.

On warm days the birds will standaround with their mouths wide open,panting like dogs after a chase, theirpouches shaking with every breath.When one goes near, the youngsterswill stagger off on their big webbedfeet with wings dragging at their sideslike poorly handled crutches. Theyoung birds huddle together in a smallplace. Those on the outside push andclimb to get near the center, until itlooks like a toddlers' football scrim-mage or a rugby scrum.

A number of years ago, the Uni-versity of California carried out aninteresting survey at Pyramid Lake.There were at that time an estimated10,000 pelicans on the nesting groundwith 10,000 young by late July. Peli-cans have been coming to AnahoeIsland for several decades and alwaysgo back to the same shoulder of themountain for their nesting.

Anahoe Island has been set asideas a game refuge by the United StatesWildlife Service and all these birdscome under its protection. Very fewgame birds make the island theirbreeding place.We retraced our path on the westside of the lake until, 17 miles fromNixon, we came to the Pyramid LakeGuest Ranch. Here Harry Drackert ,one-time rodeo star and professional

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bronc buster, raises race horses andtakes guests on pack trips. Some ofthe trips are for game hunting. Oth eroutings are for the rockhounds whocomb the countryside for cutting ma-terial. In a quick survey I noticedchalcedony, some moss agate and afew pieces of petrified wood . Oth erhobby ists collect artifacts. Harry hasa fine collection of his own on dis-play.

The Southern Pacific Railroadcrosses the back of the guest ranchand in the early days a narrow gaugebaggage car was left there. Now eightchildren attend one of the most unus-ual schools in America in the discardedcar.The site of the present day ranchwas at one time a Pony Express stopand later became a stage coach stopon the road between Reno and Klam-math Falls, Ore gon. It was called Sut-

cliffe after the man who ran the station,and the name remains to this day.Several miles to the north, a South-ern Pacific maintenance crew has itsheadq uarters. Except for Nixon, theguest ranch and the railroad crew, theshores of the 35-mile long and 18-milewide lake are uninhabited.At the far northern end of the lake,accessible only by dirt road, are the"Needles," rugged masses of igneousrocks, coated thickly with calcareoustufa. The y are all conne cted at the

base and rise in varying shapes to aheight of 100 feet. When Frem ont andhis party first passed this way, thesepinnacles were far out in the water,but today they are land masses. Fromseveral of these flow streams of hotwater.The geological theory for PyramidLake is quite different from the legendof the "Squaw and her Basket." About20,000 years ago, most of westernNevada was covered by a huge inlandsea named Lake Lahontan after aFrench explorer. Scientists have care-

fully traced its outline over westernNeva da. It was contem porary withLake Bonneville, another prehistoricbody of water which spread over vastspaces of eastern Nevada and westernUtah, and of which only the Great SaltLake remains today.Lake Lahontan diminished over theages until all that remains are Pyra-mid Lake and Walker Lake, far to thesouth. Va rious fossils comm on to bothPyramid and Walker lakes date backat least 15,000 years.The surrounding countryside hasevidence of prehis toric life. Mu mm ieshave been found in burial caves. Lastyear, three were taken from one cavenea r the shores of the lake. New cavescontaining artifacts of prehistoric peo-

The Needles, a cluster of sharp stone teeth rising on the north shore.pie are found and explored annually.Some contain evidence of several tribesoccupying the same caves at differenteras. Several layers of culture, basketfragments and artifacts have beenfound and studied. Petroglyp hs by thethousands cover rocks above but near

the shore line. Fossils of the eohippus,or prehistoric horse have been uncov-ered. Investigation of these places willcontinue for some time.The most recent shore line of Pyra-mid Lake resembles a great arena with19 separate and distinct benches onClose-up of one oj the many tufa formations which line the shore, showingintricate interior designs.

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"i9KlNo imagination is required to appreciate the profile of this drowsy stonegentleman, one of the tufa formations on the east shore.

one mountain side. These benchesdesignate the various levels of wateras the lake dwindled to its present size.They are covered with sand mixed witha profusion of tiny shells. These shellswere living mollusks which thrived inPyramid Lake long before the Sphinxwas built in Egypt.

Although Pyramid Lake is a freshwater body, it has no outlet. Livingcreatures still inhabit its depths, butslow desiccation may change this con-dition in the future. The Truckee Riverformerly poured all its flow into thelake and maintained a level balance.Nevada irrigation canals, built about50 years ago, diverted much of theriver water to more arable lands.

As the result of these adverse con-ditions, Pyramid Lake is receding asmuch as 5 feet a year. An occasionalheavy run-off in the Sierras sometimesreverses the trend temporarily. Atseveral places the lake has beensounded to a depth of 1500 feet, so itisn't likely that there will be a bigelongated dry hole in that part of Ne-vada for some centuries to come.Since the Truckee channel at thesoutheast end of the lake became sandclogged, it has been impossible for thefish to go upstrea m to spawn . Somecutthroat and bass are still caught onthe line, but catches are small and in-

frequent. Attem pts are being madeto restock the waters with trout foundin lakes in northern Idaho, and Koko-nee salmon from Oreg on. By nextseason, fishing should be good againin Pyramid La ke. The lake is unre -stricted, although the Indian Serviceat Nixon has control over fishing andboating privileges.In its incredible setting, PyramidLake is a beautiful spectacle, and afascinating classroom for geologist,historian, naturalist, archeologist, rock-hound and student of fish, bird andanim al life. We never tire of our visitsthere, and leave each one with a feel-ing of awe for the worksand thequirksof Nature.

PALM CANYON RE-OPENEDFOR 1954-55 SEASONClosed to the public during thesummer by order of the CahuillaTribal Council, Palm Canyon, fourmiles south of Palm Springs, California,has been re-opened for the season. Atthe toll gate where visitors are per-mitted to enter the canyon from 9:0 0a.m. to 5:00 p.m., an Indian gate-keeper collects a 50-cent admissioncharge from adults and 25 cents forminor children over 12. Those under12 are admitted free. Rece ipts gointo the tribal fund.

H t t i R o c k S h o r t yo f

D E A T HV A L L E Y

Death Valley was having oneof its periodic sandsto rms. Dustwas so thick outside the Infernostore it was impossible to see asfar as the gas pum p. Inside, ahalf dozen motorists who hadstopped for shelter until the windsubsided were hovering aroundthe old wood-burning stove.Even Hard Rock Shorty hadforsaken his habitual bench-seatunder the lean-to porch and waslounging inside on a stack ofpotato bags."How long do these sandstormsgenerally last?" one of the dudesasked."Sometimes five or six dayssometimes longer." was Shorty'sreply. One of the women in theparty gasped in dismay."All depends on where she'sblowin' from," Hard Rock wenton. "Them northeasters fromNevady is the worst. "Rem em-ber one year when Pisgah Billstarted fer his mine up in EightBall crick with a pack-load o'grub. Sandstorm hit 'em beforehe got there. Blamed mulewouldn't face it, an' they wuz noshelte r. Bill finally got the mulet' the mine by turnin' 'im aroundan backin' 'im all the way home.Even then, the sand blasted allthe hair offen that critter's hindend.

"Jest like sandpaper when thewind's blowin' thataway."Pisgah Bill figgered theyought t' be some way to put allthat wind to work, so he riggedup a sort o' windmill out at themine to pump water an' maybeturn the grindstone to sharpenthe drill bits. Worked all rightfer awhile, but one o' themstorms turned them propellorblades so fast it burned out thebearings, an' when Bill climbedup there to fix the thing that sandblasted the whole contraptionright out from under 'im an ifthe wind hadn't blowed Bill intothat drinkin' pond he had fer theburros a hundred yards down-stream he'd a been bad hurt.

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To those who come to the Desert with jriendliness, it gives friendship; to those whocome with courage it gives new strength of character. Those see king relaxation findrelease from the world of man-made troubles; for those seeking beauty, the Dese rtoffers Nature's rare st artistry. This is the Desert that men and wom en learn to love.

L I F E O N T H E D E S E R TBy GRACE M. WILTON

Grace M. Wilton wept when her doctor in Chi-cago told her she must go to the desert for herhealth. She wan ted no part of the heat and dustand crawling things. But when she opened herheart to the desert in Arizona she discovered thatit offered not only health but also such contentmentas sh e had never known before.NE MORE siege of pneumoniaar"d I won't answer for you."The short, gray-haired doc-tor eyed me thoughtfully as he revealedmy condition and added a "sentence"to life in the desert."It 's not a bad place," the doctoradded when he saw me shrink at thethought, "it 's warm, dry and sunny.Not like this." He nodded to the win-dow. A cold wind whipped mushysnow flakes against it; rivulets of icywater squirmed down to the sill.I didn't want to leave my belovedChicago for Arizona. To me it wasa strange place with strange peopleand animals. I shuddered."Here are some folders. Study them,let me know when you can leave." Thedoctor offered a self-satisfied smilethat only angered me as he closed thedoor.I watched the snow for a while, mycheeks becoming as damp as the win-

dow as tears ebbed from my eyes. Ibrushed my face dry and read the fold-ers which reported only 10 inches ofannual rainfall for Arizona and 325days of sunshine. I drop ped the fold-ers on the bed with a sigh, reluctantlyresigned to sand and heat and bugsand crawling animals.That is how I came to Arizona.Sick, lonely and fearful. Th at was theunhappy beginning of a lasting friend-ship.My first look at the desert was fromthe Pullman window one morning inlate spring, 1950. A gray-green land-scape was sliding by. It rolled awayfor miles, ending at the foot of fardistant mountains outlined in purpleagainst a blue sky. This was Arizona!Desert country!1 didn't expect to see anything grow-ing on it. Dese rt had meant sand tome. It w?s my first discovery aboutthis n;w land, and very pleasing. Later

I learned that over 100 edible plantsgrow in this semi-arid country and inspring, a profusion of vari-coloredflowers make it a garden of infinitebeauty.Within a week after leaving ChicagoI was settled in a small cabin on theedge of a rocky canyon that openedonto the desert. Each day I took ashort walk and began to get acquaintedwith the strange, unreal world aroundme. At first I could see nothing lovelyabout the hot, dry and dusty land.Then, weeks later, on one of mymorning hikes I met an old prospector.He gave me something to think about."You must be friendly to the coun-try, let yourself go and enjoy yourwa lks," he said. "T he desert is likea person . You h ave to let her showyou her wonders, her tragedies andher moods." The old prospector's eyesgazed off to the distant mountains;his gnarled hands were folded on topN O V E M B E R , 1 9 5 4 19


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of a cactus cane. "And she has manygifts to offer," he murmured. Thenwith a friendly nod he moved downthe trail that disappeared amid thecholla cactus and the tall Spanish bay-onets with creamy white flowers thatlook so much like wax candles."Gifts?" I mentally questioned, look-ing after him. "It's true, the desert isgiving me oneprecious thinghealth."I smiled. Myheart grew light and thesand wasn't drab andcolorless. It hadthe sparkle of gold.A marvelous thing happened nextmorning. I awakened with the hungerof a working cowboy. I impatientlywaited for thecoffee to finish dripping;the smell of frying bacon had neverbeen so delicious. It was the first timein months I had been hungry.I waswell! The sun had been heal-

ing my sick body while the desert oc-cupied mewith a variety of new inter-ests. This dry tawny land held newfascination.As my strength increased I tooklonger and longer walks. I hated toturn back when the hot sun began tobeat down on me. But like other des-ert creatures I knew it wasbest to stayin the shade during the heat of theday.Each morning I rose at dawn towatch the glorious changing colors ofsky and land. Each evening I took myseat on a huge boulder for the showthe sunseemed to put on for mybene-fit. Never had I seen such splashes ofcolor. I'm sure no painter could cap-ture the vividness of a desert sunsetat its height. It tinted the surroundingcountry and I thought of the desertas "putting on her evening gown."I came to know the animals I met.I learned their names, lizards, hornedtoads and the ugly tarantula."Just give him room and he won'thurt you," the old prospector advised

when he discovered me watching onethat was blocking my favorite trail.I studied the black and yellow fuzzyspider for a while, thinking about allthe tales I hadheard of him. He didn'tseem so frightening when met face toface.One day as I walked to a hugecholla where a little cactus wren hadmade her home, I heard a sound insome rocks. I searched and found alizard firmly anchored by his tail in aspider's web. Somehow he had falleninto the trap and his tail was tangled

in its sticky mesh. Hisfeet just clearedthe ground as he swung in a desperateeffort to break away. I watched for atime, marveling at the strength of theweb. The lizard wasperhaps seven oreight inches long and at first I thoughthe could free himself easily. But not

so . He wasMrs. Spider's winter meatsupply. She spun around him tryingto catch his feet. I released him withmy stick and he hurried away. Tome, he was no longer a "crawling crea-ture"; he was a friend.Through the summer I watched thecactus family, theshoe sole, barrel andstately cholla. From flower to bud andfruit I saw them grow. In the fall theold prospector taught me how to burnthe thorns off the prickly pear and eatit. I read how theIndians dried the fruitof this cactus and prepared it for win-ter use. It was a source of sugar.Each day I gazed at the fluffy whiteclouds floating across the desert's skyand felt peace and silence enter myheart and soul. But it took a trip intotown to show me the preciousness ofmy quiet way of life. On that trip Irealized 1 hadgained more than healthduring my stay on the desert. I hadfound harmony and satisfaction, aninterest in the things about me and a

oneness with God and nature that islost to those of us who have lived inthe city surrounded byhurry andnoiseof man's constant business. I hadcome to think of the desert as a pro-testing mother who is eternally caringfor, and feeding her children. Whenher families die she tenderly coversthem with sand and sees that theirgraves are not forgotten by spreadingthem with bushes and flowers of herown design.With a start I realized one day thatI loved the desert. I knew she lovedme toobecause she hadshown mesomeof her secrets. With a humble heart Ithanked her for her gifts of health andpeace of mind, tranquility of soul andknowledge that there is a higher powerthat governs and rules in the land.So now, with pride, I claim her asmy friendthe gracious desert who isalways ready andwilling to help thosewho open their hearts and minds toher.

Clear Photo Weather . . .Cooler weather of November makes it one of the more pleasantmonths of the year for desert trips by photographers and, servingcamera enthusiasts doubly, reduces the saturation point of the atmo-

sphere clearing it of much of its usual haze. It is a good month fortaking pictures of panoramic scenes which are ideal, along with anyof the hundreds of other possible desert subjects, for entry in themonthly Desert Mag azine photo contest. Both professional and ama-teur ph otographers are invited to submit black and white glossypho-tographs ofdesert subjects for judging by thestaff.Entries for the November contest must be in the Desert Magazineoffice. Palm Desert, California, by November 20, and thewinning printswill appear in the January issue. Pictures which arrive too late forone contest areheld over for thenext month . First prize is $10; secondprize $5.00. For non-winning pictures accepted for publication $3.00each w ill be paid.

HERE ARE THERULES1Prints ior monthly contests must be black and white, 5x7 or larger, printedon glossy paper.2Each photograph submitted should be fully labeled as to subject, time andplace. Also technical data: camera, shutter speed, hour of day,etc.3PRINTS WILL BE RETURNED WHEN RETURN POSTAGE IS ENCLOSED.4All entries must be in the Desert Magazine office by the 20th of the contestmonth.5Contests are open to both amateur and professional photographers. DesertMagazine requires first publication rights only of prize winning pictures.6Time andplace of photograph areimmaterial, except that it must be from thedesert Southwest.7Judges will be selected from Desert's editorial staff, and awards will be madeimmediately after theclose of thecontest each month.

Address All Entries to Photo Editor'Decent TKayafcne PALM DESERT, CALIFORNIA

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ON DESERT TRAILS WITH A NATURALIST-VIIIBird That 'Sleeps' All WinterBy EDMUND C. JAEGER, D.Sc.

Curator of PlantsRiverside Municipal MuseumN NOVEMBER of 1946 MiltonMontgomery and Jerry Schulteaccompanied me on a Christmasvacation trip to the picturesque Chuck-awalla Mountains, north of Salton Seaand west of the Colorado River inCalifornia. Little did we realize that

it was to be a journey momentous inthe history of ornithology . It was onthis holiday outing that by merestchance, we found in a niche in a gran-ite rock that unique specimen of Nut-tal's Poorwill which was to make pos-sible the discovery of the phenomenonof hibernation in birds.When first we saw the small soft-feathered granite-gray bird nestledneatly in a fist-sized hole in the rockby the side of a narrow ironwoodbordered gully, we thought it might bea dead or sick bird. Bu t when it was

observed more carefully I suspected itmight actually be in a state of wintertorpor.That was the beginning of a seriesof observations and experiments thatlasted over four consecutive winterseasons. Every two weeks from earlyNovember through late February, Ivisited the place and saw my Poorwill"asle ep" in its winter qua rters. Eachyear, after its period of warm weatheractivity it returned to its hole in thewall to sleep away the winter, unmind-ful of the handling it repeatedly gotas we photographed it again and again,weighed it, took its internal tempera-tures and performed experiments andtests to satisfy ourselves that its physio-logical state was that of true hiberna-tion with the usual loss of weight, lowbody temperature and lack of con-sciousness found in hibernating animalssuch as hedgehogs and ground squir-rels.When I reported my findings inornithological journals, bird studentsall over the world were keenly inter-ested, for here was the first concrete

evidence of hibern ation in birds . Soonletters began pouring in asking forfurther details, and accounts of myinvestigations appeared in many mag-azines. Eventually the National Geo-graphic Society requested that I writea popular account for readers of their

Four years ago Dr. Edmund Jaeger surprised the scientific worldby publishing his discovery of a Poorwill which he found hibernatingin California's Ch ucka wa lla M ountains. Since then. Dr. Jaeger h asreceived many letters, indicating that hibernation is a characteristic ofthe Nuttal Poorwill. Here is the latest information ab out the bird thatsleeps all winter.

Wh en in hibernation, the Poorwill could be picked up and photographed .After months oj torpor, when warm weather came, the bird becameactive and flew away.popular and beautifully illustratedmonthly magazine.My article on the hibernating poor-will appeared in the February, 1953,National Geographic Magazine. Sincethen so many persons have inquiredabout further knowledge of the winterbehavior of this unusual bird that Ifeel I should pass on to Desert Maga-zine readers some interesting informa-tion that has recently come in to me.

Let me say first of all, that severalhibernating poorwills have lately beenfound. One reported in September,1953, by Florence Thorburg, of Tuc-son, Arizona was brought in to theArizona Desert Trailside Mu seum . Itwas discovered in January of that yearby two young men who were collectingan agave in the Silverbell Mountainsnorthwest of Tucson. As a pick axewas struck into the ground to loosenthe plant, the men noticed some fea-thers fly. Investigation of the source

of the feathers revealed the bird in astate of stupor under a lower leaf ofthe agave plant next to the ground.Miss Thorburg reported:"The men placed the Poorwill inthe truck cab while they went on withtheir work of plant collecting for twohours. The warm sun, and perhapsthe previous handling, caused the birdto open its eyes and become quite ac-tive. During the ride home, which tookanother hour, the bird was coveredwith a sweater and by the time theMuseum was reached it was asleep. Itdid not waken while being observedby several people nor while having itspicture taken in the sun."For five days it was kept in an un-heated adobe building. Nights werecool but days quite warm . The birdwould be inert or torpid in the morn-ing but it showed signs of wakefulnessduring the warmth of the day. It wasthen moved outside the building to a

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box set half unde rgroun d. Here itagain resumed its dormant state."On January 25 the Poorwillweighed 34.1 grams. On January 29,a cloacal temperature was taken witha quick-recording thermometer whichread 13.2 C. (55.7 F.)."This report was most interesting tome because the behavior of the bird,and the internal temperature andweight readings, were so similar tothose I had previously reported, theycorroborated my earlier findings.Sam King, superintendent of theJoshua Tree National Monument,wrote me last February of having aPoorwill brought into the MonumentHeadquarters in a state of torpidity.It was kept in a cool room for a num-ber of days but for reasons unknownthe bird died before I was able to see it.In July of 1953, A. L. McCaslandwho was then convalescing from illnessin the San Bernardino County Hos-pital sent me the following letter:

"Today I picked up a copy of theGeographic and found your articleabou t Poorwills. Perh aps you will beinterested to learn when and where Ifound these birds hibernating in con-siderable numbers during the winter of1931-32 and 1933-34 along the SanPedro River near Bammoth, Arizona. Iwas collecting dry saguaro and chollacactus wood to be used in the makingof rustic furniture and found these birdsinside hollow saguaro trunks . Thesaguaro has hard ribs that do not rotwhile the pulpy interior does, and insome cases it seemed that the birdshad built a sort of nest or at least haddug in and covered themselves withthe dry pulp. I met a prosp ector therewhose name I can't recall who knewabout these birds and their habits.They caused me to pass up somechoice timber to avoid destroying theirwinter qua rters. I saw evidence thatwild animals had torn up some of thesewindfalls and concluded it had beendone to get the bird s. If you care tovisit this district, it is between Winkel-man and Oracle on the San PedroRiver."

I afterwards talked personally withMr. McCasland. He said he thoughthe had seen between 35 and 40 of thebirds in winter torpor and once hadbrought in five of them to the head-quarte rs building of a mine. The re hekept them pretty-well covered overwith saguaro saw-dust in a box for aperiod of several weeks. One day hewent in to observe them and foundthat they had awakened and escaped.In August this year Wm. F. Pasivio,a prospector at Riggins, Idaho reportedto the National Geographic Society hisexperience with a hibernating Poorwill.He wrote that he was prospectingnear Wenden, Arizona, in February,

The author, .standing beside thegranite boulder where the Poorwillslept all winter. The bird's tail maybe seen in the crypt in the rockal his lejt.1944, when he found a Poorwill in arock cavity in a dor ma nt state. Hepicked up the bird and found it verylight in weight. The re was no evidenceof breathing, movement or apparentlife. He brushed the bird's feathers,stroked its head, and then laid it in aglove in the warm suns hine. An ho urlater, while prospecting close by hesaw a bird fly away, and when he wentto look for the Poorwill it was gone.In February of this year Maud A.Minthorn of Northridge, California,wrote me and I quote the followingstatements of unusual interest:"Your story of the hibernating Poor-will was especially interesting to me,because I realized that I had lightlypassed over my own experience withone of those little creatures, not know-ing at the time how rare hibernation inbirds was. It was in the spring of 1909 .I went out to teach in a one-familyschool in Nevada at Wheeler Springnot far from P ioche . My school con-sisted of the children of one largeMormon family named Wheeler. WhenI arrived at my tent-schoolhouse some-time in April that first morning there

was a bouquet of pink Ranunculus(Andersonii) on my desk, and 1greeted the children and showed ap-preciation of their gift with so muchenthusiasm that they took the earliestopportunity to show me another oftheir nature treasures a Poorwill. Iexpressed doubt about being able toget near such a shy bird, but they as-sured me that I could see it at veryclose range because it was asleep. Sureenough there it was, back in a smallhole in a bank. I though t maybe thebird was sick, but they assured methat it slept there every winter, butthat it would soon waken and fly away,as spring was coming . Now , as I con-sider it, I am more surprised than Iwas then, because it would seem likean excessively long hibernation forsuch a small creature. I don't knowhow early the winter snows arrived, butthe elevation was over 6000 feet, andPioche is far inland. This Poorw illmust have had nearly seven months ofhibern ation. Somehow the childrenhad found this bird and were pleasedwith its odd habit, and went out tolook for it each spring when the snowmelted. I wish I had known more aboutbirds then; the children would havebeen so pleased to have their discoveryreported to some authority on birds."The observations of children, as thiscan prove, are often most valuable andI like to encourage their natural historyactivities at every opp ortun ity. The iralert inquiring eyes often see thingswhich adults never even notice. Someof my most interesting correspondentsand visitors are children who report tome the unusual things they find whileon their rambles . I leave it to themto find the first birds' nests and seethe spring's earliest flowers. Theirquestions often lead to the opening upof vast new fields of investigation, and,as a wise French savant once said, theirqueries are the key to philosophy.

ENGLISH PROFESSOR SAYSNORTH POLE ONCE WASLOCATED IN ARIZONA

Arizonans who have just beenthrough a hot summer may not believethis, but according to the theory ofDr. K. M. Creer of Cambridge, Eng-land, the geomagnetic North Pole wasonce located in what is now Arizona.The British professor bases his con-clusion on an examination of very oldpre-Cambian rocks at Grand Canyon.He believes that before the Pole ar-rived at its present position it wand-ered around the prehistoric world fromthe Cen tral Pacific to Jap an. Ab outthe time life began to appear on theearth, perhaps 600 million years ago,the present state of Arizona was buriedbeneath a great glacial cap of ice.22 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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P I C T U R E SO F T H E M O N T H

Dick Randall of Rock Springs, Wy-oming, won first place in Desert'sPicture-of-the-Month with this close-up of a health y bob cat. A toughscrapper when cornered, the bobcatseems as much at home on the des-ert as any wh ere. Taken with a 4x5speed graphic, 8 inch lens, super xxfilm, f. 32 at 1/100 second, with onepress 40 flashbulb for illumination.

Taken at the Inter-Tribal Indian Ceremonial at Gallup, NewMexico, Henry P. Chapman of Santa Fe, New Mexico, has caught inthis picture the Laguna braves emulating the grace of the eagle inaction. Aw arded second pla ce in the October contest, it wa s taken w itha Rolleiflex 2.8-Cat f. 11 in 1 200.


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He Rode With Buffalo Bill...Rancher, fanner and showman,Harry Knight "signed on" with

Buffalo Bill's wild west show halfa century ago and rode hard withthe famed scout-showman as bosshostler and arena director, touringmos t of the 48 state s. No w a far-mer and cattle feeder at Yuma,Arizona, he remembers BuffaloBill 's showmanship and quickthinking that once staved off possi-ble catastrophe.By WILLARD H. PORTERPhoto by the Author

YEARS AGO, ThadSaunders, an Indian broncrider with the Buffalo BillWild West show, led a tall, ganglingyouth to Col. Buffalo Bill Cody's tent."Colonel," the young man said, "I 'vealways wanted to meet you. I 'm HarryKnight and I've heard my father speakof you many times.""Not I . W. Knight?" Cody asked.The young man nodded."Why, I knew him well," Cody said."We used to scout for the governmenttogether, and he was the best dog-goned bro nc rider 1 ever saw .""Harry's got himself quite a repu-tation as a bronc rider, too," Saunderstold Cody.Cody appraised the youthful cowboyfor an instant. The n he said, "Wantto come work for me?""There's nothing in the world I 'drather do," the young man told him.That was over a half century ago.Today, at 76, Harry Knight lives withhis family on an irrigated farm atYum a, Arizon a. Here , he and his twosons, Bob and Dick, raise alfalfa, bar-ley and corn and feed cattle for market.And after work, Harry Knight lovesto sit back in his easy chair and talkabout Col. William F. Cody and hisfabulous "Buffalo Bill's Wild WestShow and Congress of Rough Ridersof the World.""The Colonel," he'll tell you, "wasone of the finest old men I ever knewand he was the greatest showman ofthem all. I can see him now beingintroduced to the crowd. He'd w hipoff that big white hat and hold itstraight out from his side."He wore beautiful hats. The JohnB. Stetson people used to make themfor him and send six at a time."But what a showman! He was theonly man I ever saw who could quieta crowd instantly when he started to

Harry Knight broke horses for the British governmen t to use in the Bo erWar, now operates an irrigated farm in Arizona.talk. Even crying youngsters wouldbe quiet when the Colonel was speak-ing."After a few years with the show,Knight and Cody became good friends,and Knight was handed several re-sponsible jobs. As arena director andboss hostler, he traveled through nearlyevery state in the union.Part of the time it was fun; part ofthe time it was work. And sometimesit was downright dangerouslike thestand at Princeton, New Jersey, in theearly 1900s.

As Knight tells the story: "ColonelBurk, our advance billing man, cameback one day from Princeton and said

we couldn't show there. Said therewas some kind of an ordinance againstshows and circuses because it was acollege town."We went in anyway and set up ourtents. Heck , we had to eat! We 'dbeen on the road a long time withouta performance, and our show was ourliving."Well, an hour before the matinee,about a thousand college boys headedour way to run the Colonel and thewhole outfit out of town . Bu t theColonel didn't scare."Working with his usual presenceof mind, he lined up the whole showon one side of the tent and just waited.

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We were all mounted and when theboys showed up, we rode right throughthem with an old-fashioned whoop-de-do cavalry charge. We held the mati-nee on time, all right.That night there was a full house.Most of them were the same studentsbent on giving Colonel Cody trouble."He stopped that," Knight tells, "byriding into the arena and telling theaudience, 'Boys I want you to be quiet.If you don't believe we're serious aboutputting on this show, just look behindyou.' ""The boys saw a dozen elephantschained by their hindlegs to the up-right poles which propped up thegrand stands. Those boys never openedtheir mouths through the whole show,"Knight remembers.During the years Harry Knight waswith the show, there were about 1200

riders in the troupe. These included150 Indians, and a few of them hadtaken part in the Custer massacre."I remember one," recalls Knight,"nam ed Lightfoot West. He was apretty fierce looking Indian, with aRoman nose and piercing, hawk-likeeyes. He used to stalk through the side-show crowds in the Middlewest andEast until he spotted some countryboy to tease. Lightfoot would fix himwith a black stare and walk towardhim, slow at first, then a little faster.Usually, the victim could stand just somuch of this, and then turn and run."In 1912, Knight left the show andput his $10,000 savings into a cattleranch. In 191 8, the year he was mar-ried, he bought the 40,000-acre Tri-angle HC at Cam p Wood, Arizona. Tosupplement their income during somepoor years in the 1920s, the Knightsmade the Triangle HC a cattle-work-ing dude ranch. They worked cattleand ran dudes for 23 years and thenmoved to Yuma.Knight has led an active life, evenby old time cowpuncher sta ndards . In

1 8 9 8 , before he joined Cody's show,he went to Los Angeles to break 1600head of horses for the British govern-ment to use in the Boer war. Knightworked at the old Dakota stables onAliso street.In Los Angeles again, 14 years later,Knight won $700 in what he calls oneof the first big rodeos ever producedin the United States."That 's where," he says, "the name'rode o' first got started. The showwas advertised as a 'roundup,' and theLos Angeles newsboysmostly Mexi-cans thenwere told to really whoopand holler about it. But the kidscouldn't say 'roundup' so they said'rodeo. ' The name has stuck."Under the high-crowned, broad-brimmed hat which Harry Knight al-ways wears, is a kindly fac

195411 desert magazine 1954 november

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