194703 desert magazine 1947 march

8/14/2019 194703 Desert Magazine 1947 March

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THE

M A G A Z I N E

1947 25 CENTS


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D E S E R T

Robert A. Barnes, whose story of thesearch for the Seven Cities of Cibola ishis first contribution to Desert Magazine,is a young newspaper man associatedwith his father in the publishing of thedaily Gallup Independent in New Mex-ico. Living in the heart of the Indiancountry, Robert is acquiring an intimateknowledge of Navajo life and lore to beused in magazine and newspaper featurestories in the future. Dick and Catherine Freeman, frequentcontributors to Desert Magazine, lefttheir home in Los Angeles early in Janu-ary to spend three months in Mexico andCentral America securing photographsand material for magazine feature stories.Mrs. Freeman secured a year's leave fromthe Los Angeles schools where she is ateacher. The Freemans are seasonedcampers, and for their trip into Mexicohad the seats in their sedan converted foruse as car beds so they will have theirown shelter wherever nightfall may findthem.

D E S E R T C A L E N D A RMarch 1U. S. dow nhill ski champion-ship, Snow Basin, Ogden, UtahMarch 1-10-Utah centennial bowlingchampionship, Salt Lake City, Utah.March 2Dons Club annual Supersti-

tion mountain trek, searching for LostDutchman mine, starting from Phoe-nix, Arizona.March 2U . S. slalom ski champion-ship, Alta, Utah.March 7-9Arizona State Firemen's con-vention, Yuma, Arizona.March 10-11 Thirty-third annual con-vention New Mexico Cattle Growers'association, Albuquerque, N. M.March 13-15International Desert Cav-alcade of Imperial Valley, Calexico,California.March 18-23Men's open golf tourna-ment, Palm Springs, California.March 21-23Arizona Snow Bowl an-nual Southwest Ski carnival, Flagstaff,

Arizona.March 22-23Second annual Silver Dol-lar ski derby, Mt. Rose, Reno, Nevada.March 25-30 Southwestern Livestockshow and championship rodeo, Coli-seum, El Paso, Texas.March 26-29Tomato festival, Niland,California.March 29Annual Charity Horse show,Phoenix, Arizona.March 29-30Second annual show spon-sored by Imperial Lapidary guild andImperial Valley Gem and Mineral so-ciety, Central junior college auditor-ium, El Centro, Calif.March 30-April 2C alifornia We sternMusic Educators' conference, Salt LakeCity, Utah.Sunday nights through MarchTaber-nacle choir concerts, Tabernacle, SaltLake City, Utah.

V o l u m e 1 0 MAR CH , 1947 N u m b e r 5C O V E RC L O S E - U P SC A L E N D A RP H O T O G R A P H YI N D I A N SL O S T M I N E SD E S E R T Q U I ZB O T A N YC O N T E S TP O E T R YH O BBYM Y S T E R YA R C H E O L O G YN A T U R EL E T T E R SW I L D F L O W E R SN E W SMININGL A P I D A R YH O BBYC O M M E N TB O O K S

TUBAC MAIL CARRIER. Photo by Chuck Abbott,Tucson, Arizona.Notes on Desert contrib utors 3March eve nts on the desert 3Prize win ners in Jan uar y contest 4We Saw the Devil Chant of the NavajoBy RICHA RD V A N V ALKENBURGH . . . 5Bells of Old Guevavi

By JOHN D. MITCHELL 9A test of your desert kno wle dge 10Magic at the Grass Roots

By JERRY LAUDERMILK 11Photo contest anno unc em ent 14Country God Forgot, an d other poe ms . . . . 15So She Hunted Gem StonesBy HAROLD O. WEIGHT 16Trees That Died of FearBy TONEY RICHARDSON 19Clues to the Fabulous Seven Cities of CibolaBy ROBERT A. BARNES 22His Hiss is Just a Bluff

By RICHARD L. CASSELL 26Com men t from Desert rea de rs 27Foreca st for Ma rch 28Here an d There on the Desert 29Current ne ws briefs 36Am ate ur Ge m Cutter, by LELANDE QUICK . . 38G ems and M inera l s

E dited by Arthu r L. Eaton 39J us t Be tw een Y ou and M e, by the Ed itor . . . 46Current revi ew s of Southw est book s 47

The Desert Magazine is published monthly by the Desert Press, Inc., 636 State Street,El Centro, California. Entered as second class matter October 11, 1937, at the post office atEl Centro, California, under the Act of March 3, 1879. Title registered No. 358865 in U. S.Patent Office, and contents copyrighted 1947 by the Desert Press, Inc. Permission to reproducecontents must be secured from the editor in writing.RANDALL HENDERSON , Editor. BESS STACY, Business Manager.LUCILE HARRIS and HAROLD O. WEIGHT, Associate Editors.Unsolicited manuscripts and photographs submitted cannot be returned or acknowledgedunless full return postage is enclosed. Desert Magazine assumes no responsibility for damageor loss of manuscripts or photographs although due care will be exercised. Subscribers shouldsend notice of change of address by the first of the month preceding issue. If address ia un-certain by that date, notify circulation department to hold copies.

SUBSCRIPTION RATESOne Year . . . $3.00 T wo years . . . $5.00Canadian subscriptions 25c extra, foreign 50c extra.Subscriptions to Army personnel outside U.S.A. must be mailed in conformity withP.O.D. Order No. 19687.Address correspondence to D esert Magazine, 636 S tate S treet, E l Centro, California.

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D E S E R TT R A I L S . . .

This photograph by JosephineCarpenter of Highland Park,California, won first prize inDesert Magazine's Jan uary pho-tographic contest under the gen-eral subject of "Desert Roadsand Trails." The picture wastaken with an E. K. Bantam cam-era with Plus X film, 1/100 of asecond at f.ll. Location is onemile south of Highway 66 atLudlow, California mid-morn-ing Decemb er 1, 1946.

D E S E R T R O A D . . .Second place winner in Desert's Januaryphotographic contest was Donald W. John-son of the U. S. Veteran's Hospital at Tuc-son, Arizona. The winning picture wastaken in Pima county, Arizona, under abright sun at four p. m., 1 /10th second

at f.22.

M A R C H C O N T E S T .. .All photographers, both amateur andprofessional, are invited to participate inthe monthly contests sponsored by DesertMagazine staff. The March contest (closesMarch 20) is on the subject of "Desert Rec-reation." Hiking, riding, rock - hunting,botanizing, mountain climbingany ac-tivity within the broad definition of recrea-tion will be acceptable. Rules are printedon another page of this issue of Desert.


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White men were digging in the ancient ruins atWupatki. And that brought bad dreamsand sick-nessto Grandma Peshlakai. So the medicine manheld a sing to drive out the evil spirits. Here is thestory of what took place in the Navajo hogan of thedistressed w oman.

W e Saw theDevil Chantof the Navajo

By RICHARD VAN VALKENBURGHPhotographs by Mil ton Snow Hastin Natani, the medicine man jrom Dinnebito, whoconducted the devil-driving ceremony overGrandma Peshlakai.

Qy OME years ago upon my return^ from Flagstaff to our archeologicalexcavations at Wupatki nationalonument, Arizona, I found the follow-ing note under my door:In one day Hastin N atani starts"singing" Hochon gi, or Devil-Driv-ing chant over Grandma, Mrs. Pesh-lakai Atsidi. We need lemon \romFlagstaff for singer's throat. Aridchewing tobacco for me. Cal will bethere tomorrow when the sun sits ontop of Doney mountain.

Thelma P eshlakaiBack-tracking over 40 miles of volcaniccinders and icy road was no pleasantchore for a winter morning in an openModel T. But this opportunity to witnessthe one Navajo ceremony that I had rea-son to believe might be similar to thoseheld by the Mongols of Central Asia wastoo good to miss.I was back from Flagstaff with the lem-ons and chewing tobacco late in the aft-ernoon. Peshlakai a'langi begai, Silver-smith's Elder Son, the eldest of the Pesh-lakai brood, whom some census-taker hadrecorded as Calvin, was snoozing under hisblanket when I drove up. Stirring, hegreeted, "Yda' taa shina'i, Good, my El-der Brother."

By the time a pot of coffee was madeand drunk we were ready to start. Only theflame-colored trail left by the setting sunlightened the deepening shadows. Bun-dled in our sheepskin coats we faced thebitter black wind of night as Cal's wagoncrunched across the cinder sprinkled mesa.While we traveled toward the raggedrim of the great white mesa that formsthe northern boundary of the Basin, I ques-tioned Cal as to the occasion for the devil-driving ceremony over 85-year-old Grand-ma Peshlakai. All I got from my usually

communicative friend was, "Hola hotzaa,"Who knows?After-dusk was settling and the earlymoon was a pale white shell when we sliddown a cinder dune into Antelope wash.After a short pull we rounded a bend andentered a small cove. Silhouetted in thethin m oonlight were the two earth-coveredhogans of Grandma and Grandpa Peshla-kai.Long before Cal and I had unhitchedthe horses Thelma had made off with thebags from Flagstaff. Wh en we went insidethe smaller of the two hogans to warm,she was busy caching her loot in variousand sundry places. With his tiny cheekspuffed out with a lollypop, Bahzhun, theCute One, and Thelma's small nephew,

welcomed, "Sit, Elder Brother. Have cof-fee."Soon the chanting from the other hoganannounced that the sing was starting.When we pushed through the blanket cov-ered door we saw Grandma Peshlakaiseated on the west side of the circular floor.She had a fixed and brooding expressionon her wrinkled old face. Usually a jollyold lady, Grandma had something on hermind.The arrangement on the earthen floor ofthe hogan was similar to those I had seenbefore. Just to the right of Grandma wasthe medicine man and his paraphernalia.Circling the south wall were the men folkswhile on the north sat the women andsmall children. In the center a small firegave a flickering light to the whole scene.

Catching my curious glance at a whitishhandprint high on the hogan wall, just be-low a sprig of green dangling from therafters, Cal whispered, "That is the pollenimprint of the medicine man. And aboveis a spray of Gambel oak which comes froma tree on the side of the San Franciscomountains."If you will look around you will seethese handprints and sprigs of oak in allfour cardinal directions. This is one of thefirst things the medicine man does before

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Mem bers of C alvin Pesblakai's family at the time of the E vil W ay "sing" overGrandma Peshlakai. (Left to right) H enry, Thelma (H unuzba), Raymo nd, Myra,Bahazhun. the C ute One, and Haswodi, the Running Boy.he starts the ceremony. These were placedthere to dedicate and bless the hogan."While I watched Hastin Natani, themedicine man who came from where Din-nebito wash bursts through the paintedsands of Newberry mesa, he began tochant softly as he poured water into an oldHopi bowl:

Black Lightning,With your power,With your medicineDrive away the DemonsInside and surrounding.Black Lightning,With your power,With your medicineMake this Earth Person well,Make her everlasting.

While Hastin Natani was singing to thefour lightnings and the Twin War Godsto give further aid in "shooting out"Grandma's demons, Cal told me that themedicine in the bowl was composed of thepounded needles of a pinon tree that hadbeen struck by lightning. To the Navajoit is known as lightning medicine.Finishing this series he rested a momentand then dug into his medicine bag. In hishand he held a black blade about a footlong. In the butt end there was a hole inwhich was tied a buckskin string. As hedipped it into the lightning medicine Calwhispered, '"Tis the tsin di'ni, or groan-ing stick."In later years I had the opportunity toexamine a groaning stick or what we call

a bull-roarer. Made from pine wood whichhas been struck by lightning and paintedwith the gum from flash-burned tree, ithad eyes and a mouth made of turquoise.

And on the reverse side there was a pieceof abalone shell which was to serve as apillow.At a motion from Hastin Natani, Calleft my side. Everyone watched as he tookthe bull roarer and slipped out of the doorinto the night. All was silent with the ex-ception of the pad of his moccasins as heran. Then came the whine of the groaningstick as Cal whirled it to its highest pitch.Abruptly the spine tingling soundceased.Then Hastin Natani started to chant.Cal slipped in through the door. He kneltbefore Grandma Peshlakai. As the tempoof the song increased he pressed the blackblade to the sole of the old woman's feet.After touching the other parts of her bodyhe finally made a motion as if to p ull some-thing from her mouth. Beside me GrandpaPeshlakai whispered:"When he pressed her mouth he pulledthe inside demons from her. Now he goesoutside again. Hear the groaning stick ashe casts those demons into the netherworld! He rounds the hogan four times.But never completes a circle. For if hecrossed the invisible line that runs to theeast from the door the magic of this singwould be destroyed!"With his part of the ceremony finishedCal returned to his place beside me. Pick-ing up his gourd-rattle Hastin Natani be-gan to chant a different song. Noticing myinterest in the pattern of the punctuationon the rattle Cal commented:

WO MEN a n d SMA LL CHILD REN .

~ \ Paraphernalia .ASSISTANTS

v. W a l l o f Hogan --Oiomeir,25 F*t.

Sprig of Gambtl Oakin rafter.

GROANINGSTICK

LAYOUT OF HOGANFOREVIL W AY CEREMONY.

WfVWV WTHE DESERT MAGAZINE


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x >Devil-driving chant in the hogan of Grandm a Peshlakai. The patient is seated in the back-ground,uith the men on one side and the ivomen and children on the other.Sketch by Charles Keetsie Shirley, Navajo artist.

"Those designs represent the constella-ade aghal, which had

Finishing his appeal to the Gods, Hastin

Swinging quickly from the fire-pit he

Black Star,Bring down your bow,Bring down your arrowsTipped with flint.A R C H , 1 9 4 7

Black Star,Bring down your bow,Bring dow n your arrows.Kill these evil spirits!After appealing to Blue, Yellow andWhite Stars to come down also and aid

him in his devil chasing, he suddenlyturned and faced the crowd and speakingin his own language yelled:"La! Just now Black Star helped meshoot a chindi. Did you hear him yell? Hefell on his belly. Then his face went intothe dirt. We knocked him right down.He's on his way back down to the homeof Wolf Woman in the Underworld!"Following this triumph Hastin Natanigave the demons a rough time. The wholehogan and everyone in it seemed infested.After routing one out from a corner orback of a person he would deftly flip hisfeather bundle up toward the open smokehole as he emitted a queer whistling soundand uttered, "There goes another one!"After a lot of demon chasing the medi-cine man again turned his attention to

Grandma. He handed her an abalone shellfilled with lightning medicine. She tooka big gulp. Then the concoction was passedaround to the spectators. When they allhad a sip the shell was returned to thepatient.The remainder of the m edicine was usedto bathe the patient's body and anotherbowl was laid before her. I found out laterthat the main ingredient of this concoctionwas pennyroyal. Taking a big mouthfulHastin Natani's cheeks puffed out. Thenfrom his pouched lips he began to spraythe crowd. I beat a hasty exit. . .Whe n I returned to the hogan Grandmawas a sight to see. Hastin Natani hadsmeared her jaws from ear to ear with aband of black that looked like shoe paste.Later I learned that this preparation wasvery rare, as it must be made from moun-tain lion fat and the charcoal of a treestruck by lightning.I was just in time to get my face smearedwith these streaks which are called light-ning flashes. Grandma, being the one


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These archeo logisls at work at W upatki national monum ent w ere the cause ojGrandm a Peshlakai's distress. The author is at the right.especially afflicted by demons, had herwhole body painted. The final touch wasapplication of a gray-blue powder madefrom the burned tips of chamiso andgrama grass.Tur ning to me Cal said, That is all.The lightning flashes will protect her fromany evil spirits that might still be hangingaround. She will leave it on for four days.Then should she have more bad dreamswe will hold a five-day sing in which sandpictures will be used."

When we left the hogan I asked Cal whyGrandma needed demons driven from herthe same question that he had evadedwhen we were driving over to the sing. Ihad witnessed the ceremony but still theactual significance as to where the demonsoriginated had escaped me.My friend's voice was uneasy when heanswered, "I'll tell you. But I hope youwon't get mad and stop bringing stufffrom Flagstaff for us. Mother has beenworried ever since you white men at

NOTES ON NAVAJO VOCABULARYIn the accompanying story the words Chindis, a Navajo term, and demons,devils and evil spirits are used synonymously. Referring to the use of Chindis,Richard Van Valkenburgh, the author, writes:"Chindi is not quite the term and I am not too sure as to what should be usedbut lean toward demons. These are very complicated fellows and a little beyondme as to actual placement in the rather sketchy Navajo interpretation of how theylook, etc. Some say Chindis look like decayed corpses floating through the air, etc.But usually Chindis are associated with the dead and it may be that this kind fromthe Anasazi were bothering Grandma Peshlakai."Other Navajo words used are as follows for checking:Hochongi .... Evil WayDevil Driving WayPeshlakai Atsidi .. - ...Pesh (Besh) metal; lakai, white; atsidi, smithBahazbun Cute OneTsin di'ni Groaning stick (bull roarer)Ade aghal - - Ade, gourd; aghal, rattleHastin Natani .... Mister LeaderAnasazi - - - - And, Stranger or Enemy; sazi, oldWupatki A Zuni term applied by Dr. J. Walter Fewkes in the1890's and of obscure etymology.While the Navajo words have been capitalized above, this is not strictly correct.In proper Navajo writing the words should never be capitalized unless they starta sentence or are anglicised forms.

Wupatki started digging out the bones ofour ancient enemies, the Anasazi. She be-lieves that their spirits have entered herbody and make her dream and have sick-ness!"While we sat there in the darkness thatwas as black as the Underworld into whichHastin Natani had driven Grandma'schindis I had time to speculate. I could notbut compare the fantastic ceremony I hadjust witnessed with the devil-driving cere-monies chronicled by travelers who hadvisited the yurts of the Mongols on thesteppes of central Asia during the 13thcentury:". . . the Mongols had a liking for blue.Black was evilthe color of night, and ofthe depths of the earth. To deal with thespirits of the Unde rworld they had priests-doctors-shamans. They examined the sick,and drove out the demons which causedthe sickness." D EATH CO M ES TO VETER ANCHIEF OF THE NAVAJOHenry Chee Dodge, 86-year-old leaderof the Navajo Indians died of pneumoniaon January 7, at Sage Memorial hospitalat Ganado, Arizona. At his bedside werehis son, Tom Dodge, Indian superinten-dent at Valentine, Arizona, and Mrs.Dodge; his two daughters, Mrs. MaryPeshlakai and Mrs. Annie Wauneka, andhis son-in-law, George Wauneka. Dodge,for more than half a century spokesmanfor his tribe in its dealings with the whitemen, had been ill for several weeks.

He was buried in Navajo War Memor-ial cemetery, on the crest of a hill midwaybetween Window Rock and Ft. Defianceafter high requiem mass at St. Michaelsmission. Father Berard Haile, dean ofpadres at St. Michael's, conducted theservices and delivered in the Navajolanguage a sermon eulogizing "Old Mr.Interpreter."When the Navajo were fighting withtheir Mexican and Indian neighbors, Cap-tain Henry Dodge was sent to stop thetrouble. With him came a Mexican inter-preter, Juan Casonisis, who fell in lovewith Chee's Navajo mother. They weremarried and when a son was born, hisfather gave him the name of his captain,Henry Dodge. Dodge was four years oldwhen Kit Carson fought the Navajo atCanyon de Chelly, and his mother ranaway and hid in the Grand Canyon. Hisfather had been killed by the Mexicansat Tohatchi.Dodge and his mother made the "LongWalk" with the rest of the Navajo to in-ternment at Bosque Redondo. The tribereturned to its desert home in 1868, andDodge later became an interpreter at FortDefiance. He was named "head chief of theNavajo" in 1884 by Dennis Riordan, earlyIndian agent at Fort Defiance. When thetribal council was created in 1923, Dodgewas elected first chairman.T HE D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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The legend persists that whenKing Charles of Spain expelledthe Jesuit Fathers from the NewWorld in 1767, they buried greatcaches of gold and silver andjewels before their hasty depar-ture from the missions they hadestablished in what is now Ari-zona, Sonora and Lower Cali-fornia. One of these legends isthe basis for the following story,first in a new series of Lost Treas-ure tales written for Desert Maga-zine by John D. Mitchell.

One day oldJuan arrived at theassay office with his two burros loaded downivith rich silver ore.Bells ofOld GuevaviBy JOHN D. MITCHELL

Illustration by John HansenANY years have passed since thesweet-toned bells of Guevavi rangout over upland plains andverdantvalleys, calling the lowly neophytes toearly morning prayer. The quaint old mis-sion dates back to the year 1691.This Jesuit mission is near the littlefarming community of Calabasas, a shortdistance northeast of Nogales, Arizona.While the Hispano-Americans in that re-gion have always regarded it as an agri-cultural mission, there are rumors that this

was not always true. The padres, needingmetal with which to mold bells, churchservice and household utensils and otherarticles, are said to have sent out Indianminers to search the surrounding hills forsuitable ores.From among the specimens brought in,the Spanish fathers chose the heavy blacksilver-copper ore which is believed to havecome from the head of a rocky canyon inthe southwest end of rugged San Cayetanomountains a short distance north of themission. When the bells were molded thepadres and their Indian helpers were sopleased with the beautiful church andsweet-toned bells it was at once decided tocontinue to work the mine. Accordinglythe ore wasmined and carried on thebacks

of mules to the furnace which had beenconstructed near the mission. After thealtar had been supplied with beautifulhand-molded candlesticks and other ar-ticles, the padres turned their attention tothe fashioning of cups, plates, bowls andother utensils of table and household usemade from theplanchas de plata recoveredfrom the smelting of the rich ore broughtdown daily from the mine.The mine was said to be so close to themission the miners could, on a still day,hear the sweet-toned bells ringing and thedogs barking in the little pueblo on theeast bank of the wide arroyo. After all theneeds of the church and the padres' quar-ters had been supplied, the bullion wasrun into heavy bars and stored in a secretplace for future shipment to Spain, or to besold in the City of Mexico. One fifth ofall bullion from the many rich minesworked by the Jesuits belonged to theKing of Spain and wasknown as theRoyalFifth. Failure on the part of the Jesuits topay this royal tax is said to have been oneof the reasons why King Charles III is-sued an edict expelling all Jesuits fromSpain and its possessions.In 1750 occurred the second revolt ofthe Pima tribes, in which the padres atCaborca and Sonoyta were murdered andthe beautiful missions of San Xavier andGuevavi were plundered and partly de-stroyed. Then , in 1767 the edict wasissued

by King Charles and the Jesuits, unableto take anything with them, sealed the en-trances to the mines, buried their treas-ures, and fled to the coast. Many of themwere killed by hostile Indians before theyreached ships that were to return them toSpain. Many of the rich mines and greattreasures lie undiscovered to this day. AtGuevavi, according to legend the bells,altar service, candlesticks, household andcooking utensils were all collected andstored in a secret hiding place near themission ruins, where they have remainedto this day.

The first Americans to arrive in SantaCruz valley in 1859 found large piles ofslas> at Tubac, Tumacacori, Cerro Colo-rado and Guevavi. Most of the slag wasrich in silver and was shipped at a goodprofit by the miners who discovered it.At Guevavi most of the land onwhich theold adobe smelter and slag pile stood hasbeen cultivated and there remain no signsof the old furnace. However, rich pieces ofsilver ore are now and then turned up bythe plow.For many years Juan Bustamante, an oldwood chopper and pocket miner, livedwith his son-in-law and only daughter ina shack in the shade of spreading cotton-woods that line the east bank of the widearroyo near the mission ruins. Old Juanmade his living in the hot summer monthsby panning the gulches for fine gold andby peddling stove wood in Nogales dur-ing the winter months when the groundwas too wet for dry washing operations.Juan was well-known at the assay officeof old Charley Taylor and among mer-

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chants and residents where he sold hissmall vials of placer gold and peddled hisburro loads of stove wood.One hot summer day about 35 years agoold Juan arrived at Taylor's assay officewith his two burros loaded down withsacks of rich silver ore, instead of the usualcargo of stove wood and small vial ofplacer gold. This caused considerable ex-citement among the miners who hung outat the assay office, but no amount of coax-ing by Taylor or the American minerswould induce the wily old Indian to dis-close the source of his newly found wealth.Taylor said the ore was the richest that hehad seen in many years. It had small piecesof grey quartz adhering to it and showedevidence of having come from the mineraldistrict to the north of Nogales, aroundold Tumacacori mission or Cerro Coloradowhich has long been noted for its rich sil-ver bearing veins.

Old Juan was fond of but two things.He loved to smoke innumerable cigarettesrolled in corn husks, and he liked to drinkthe red wine which he called Sangre deCristo. Now there is a superstition amongmany of the old-time Spanish-Americansthat if they will bathe in running water on

San Juan day, June 24, it will insure goodhealth for the coming year. So it cameabout that every year after taking his an-nual bath in a nearby arroyo, old Juanloaded his faithful jacks with rich silver-copper ore and wandered south to ElPueblo de Nogales, for the fiesta of SanJuan. On the second day of the great fies-ta Juan, full of his beloved Sangre de Cris-to, frijolitas, tacos and tortillas, lay downon his serape for a little siesta. In histroubled sleep, the old gambucino talkedloud and long about a rich silver mine hehad discovered high up in a rocky canyonon the southwest side of the rugged SanCayetano mountain. A newly made friend,not quite so drunk, listened in on oldTuan's conversation and the day after thefiesta set out with a companion to searchfor the mine.

After several days of hard work, the twoMexicans found some very heavy silver-copper ore at the mouth of the deep rockycanyon described by Juan in his troubledsleep. High up near the head of the can-yon they came upon a partly burned cruci-fix that had evidently been washed fromthe tunnel. It has long been a customamong Mexican and Indian miners to

A | | | 7 How well do you know your desert mountains?U U I b This monthas a variation in the quiz programDesert's staff is offering a questionnaire on themountain peaks and ranges of the Southwest. Each of the mountains listed belowis visible from one of the geographic places listed in the column on the right. Butthe printer got 'em all mixed up. For instance, everyone who has traveled thedesert knows that Utah's Wasatch mountains are not visible from Prescott, Ari-zona. So, you rearrange them correctly, using the blank spaces left for that purpose.Ten correct answers is a fair showing. A score of 12 to 15 is good. Any answerabove that will rate you as a 5-star pupil in the geography class. The answers areon page 25.FROM WH AT POIN T ARE THESE MOUNTA INS VISIBLE?

1Wasatch moun tains - Prescott, Arizona2Navajo mountain Flagstaff, Arizona3Sangre de Cristo range- Tucson, Arizona4S uperstition mountains Ajo, Arizona5Castle Dom e mou ntains Essex, California6Panam int mountains Humb oldt, Nevada7Abajo mountains Yuma, Arizona8San Francisco peaks Coachella valley, California9Sandia mountains Rainbow lodge, Arizona

10Santa Catalina mountains Las Vegas, Nevada11 W hite mountains - Salt Lake City, Utah12San Jacinto moun tains - Death Valley, California1 3Providence mountains.... Springerville, Arizona14C harleston peak Albuquerque, New Mexico15 Hum boldt range Taos, New Mexico16Bill W illiams mountain...- ....Navajo Bridge, Arizona17D ragoon mountains Desert Center, California18V ermilion Cliffs Tombstone, Arizona19Chuckawalla mountains Monticello, Utah20G rowler mountains Apache Junction, Arizona

place a crucifix in the mouth of any minein which they are working. The crucifixwas taken to the Tumacacori missionwhere it remained for many years. Thetwo men made many trips to the localitybut were unable to find any trace of therich vein or the old tunnel. The heavyrains that annually fall in that localityhad evidently covered it over.Old Juan made several secret trips tothe mine after the fiesta. Juan's last loadof ore was purchased by Taylor for $150.The next day he arrived at the little houseof his son-in-law with his two burros load-ed down with provisions and a supply ofred wine. He was found dead on his palletthe next morning. Neither the mine northe great treasure buried near the missionwalls has ever been found.The rooms of Guevavi are vacant now.The voices of the padres, the Indian chil-dren and the lowly neophytes have longsince been stilled. Likewise the peal of

the sweet-toned bells, the sound of musicand the soft tread of moccasined feet havepassed away. A small part of the thickadobe walls, a remnant altar and a fewsilent graves are all that remain to remindus of the padres and the happy red menwho once prospered here at the quaint oldmission of Guevavi.I spent one night at the ruins manyyears ago and the next morning baconwas frying and the sputtering coffee potsent out wave after wave of deliciousaroma. My old Mexican guide told m e thatduring the night he had a dream or visionin which he saw mucho plata, much silver.But I must confess that I have never hadsuch a dreamnor have I found the silver. Normal Water Supply ForecastFor Colorado R iver B asinUsing a new forecasting technique,Weather bureau officials predict a satis-factory water supply for the Colorado riverbasin during 1947. Forecast is based onstatistical analysis of precipitation datafrom 74 key Weather bureau stations inthe basin, and runoff data from 37 Geo-logical survey gauging stations.Forecast for inflow into Lake Mead is103 per cent of normal, with 50 per centof normal precipitation which can be ex-pected over the basin already reported. Up-per Colorado will be normal or slightlyabove, excepting Roaring Fork at Glen-wood Springs, which is forecast 4 per centbelow normal.The Gunnison and San Juan rivers areexpected to be slightly below normal, andthe Dolores slightly above normal. Greenriver outlook is good, 25 per cent abovenormal at Green River, and 50 per centabove on several tributaries. Forecast is forthe period from October 1, 1946, to Sep-tember 30, 1947. Precipitation, snowfalland temperatures in the basin area wereall above normal during December.

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Filaree. Lejl, above, single blossom.Right, above, see d capsule separatinginto jive arrow-shaped drills.Mountain m ahogany or Cercocarpus sp .Flower shown enlarged at upper left.Seed with long plume at right.

Wild oats. At A are unripe seeds. B, dryripe grain. C, joxtail with ripe grain.D, green grain.

Magic at theGrassRootsLife begins at the grass roots. And the naturalist who rides an automo-bile sees less of what goes on near the ground than one who travels ona horse. Both miss much of the elf-size drama seen by the Nature lover

who goes on foot. The hiker gains initiation into a magic world of seeds,insects, spiders and other tiny actors which play an important role in lifeon the desert. Jerry Laudermilk with his microscope has discovered somestrange things in a world the rest of us know little about.By JERRY LAUDERMILKSketches by the Author

/ 7 N MY first months on the Arizona\J desert, it seemed the quickest wayto become acquainted with thestrange natural life of this arid countrywas to do a lot of hiking. At first thesejaunts took in only the territory close tothe ranch house of the LK-Bar near Wick-enburg. Later, after the rains began and Ihad learned more about the desert, 1 oftenpacked enough outfit to let me live on myown for a day or two and camp on someabsolutely silent mesa under a "Pima tent"made of a bed tarp stretched over a creo-sote bush.

It was about the middle of April in Ari-zona's Hassayampa valley and I was onsuch an expedition into the upper reachesof Box canyon. It was a strange place ofsteep red malpais walls, sparkling waterand posturing saguaros. The hiking wasgood and there was much to see. The sundropped low and I began looking for aplace to camp. Then I came to just what Iwanted. It looked like a strip of misplaced

lawn. There are many such places alongthe river. Sub-irrigated by springs, suchspots stay green the year 'round supportingstands of yerba mansa, mulefat and arrowweed which make them popular with but-terflies that like damp soil. The ground onmy proposed campsite had been claimed along time before by several species of grassand an interesting plant, which, at thistime of the year, grew in most places assymmetrical rosettes of leaves flat on theground. Here, perhaps from stored-upwarmth shed by the canyon walls duringthe night, they had moved ahead of sched-ule and grew as small herbs about a foothigh. At this late hour their small,purplish-pink blossoms were rolled tight.But the plant was still one to attract atten-tion for it had long, slender seeds in a clus-ter with up-tilted angles like the bills of atroop of pigmy herons.

This plant wasn't a total stranger to me.My aunt, who held it in high personal es-teem, called it filaree and praised it might-

ily as one of the best spring range plants inArizona. Heron bill, filaree, or "filarea"as the Mexicans call it, is scientificallyErodium circutarium, a close relative tothe ordinary geranium. From its abun-dance, filaree is an outstanding example ofa plant that has made good. The reasonfor this honest success becomes clear whenyou look into some of its peculiarities. Thekey to the situation is in the seed.

When the fruit ripens the ridges splitapart at the bottom and the whole beakseparates in a most interesting way. Whilethe ridges split, their lower ends pull fromthe socket and look like tiny brown arrow-heads. The part above, at first simply aridge, is now the shaft of an arrow abouttwo inches long which soon twists itselfinto a neat little object that looks as if ithad been turned on a jeweler's lathe. Thelower part, which now resembles amachine-screw, ends with a flourish at thetop and the last third of the shaft standsout at an angle as a heavy bristle curvedlike a sickle. When the seeds drop off theaxis, the value of this curious mechanismbecomes evident. Now begins a grass-rootmystery where one of Mother Nature'scleverest inventions can be seen in opera-tion. But before we go deeper into the sub-ject let's make a few experiments withfilaree seeds on a wet blotter under atumbler.Only a few minutes pass before theseeds do something very peculiar, startling

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Seeds, tools and motors: A, jilaree seed, damp and unwound. B, same dry andtwisted into a drill. C, the cutting bit ivith which it digs its way into the ground.D, tip of filaree bristle greatly magnified to shoiv the barbs. E, m ountain mahog anyseed with plume, also a drill. F, wild oat seed with awns bent in dry condition.G, same damp. H, tip of aw n ma gnified. J, foxtail, three seeds attached to pieceof stem. K, tip of the awn.

in fact. If you have piled the seeds in aheap the bristles begin a stealthy motionlike some timorous daddy-long-legs re-covering from a fright. Soon the move-ment becomes bolder and the seeds untwistand stretch out straight. Now hold one ofthe arrowheads between your thumb andfinger with the shaft pointing upward. Inless than a minute the shaft will begin tobend at a point half way down until it isalmost at right angles with the lower por-tion. As it bends it twists from right toleft in the direction opposite to the handsof a watch. Finally the arrow rewinds it-

self into the screw and bristle gadget itwas before it straightened out. So far as Ican discover, the best match for this in-strument among man-made tools is theratchet drill used for boring holes in un-handy places where only a part turn of thebit is possible. But, as I will show, itdoesn't drill in the same way. It is evenmore specialized. The human inventionworks only in one direction but the filareeseed functions when turned either to theright or left.The seed moves because the cells mak-ing up the fibers of the arrow shaft are

thick-walled tubes capable of swellinggreatly when damp. When dry, the cellscontract more lengthwise than across.Since, when they were growing andgorged with sap, they followed a spiral setin one definite direction, shrinkage pullsthem in the opposite direction and thewhole arrow shaft twists up into a tightspiral. The seeds are so sensitive to dampand dryness that even a trace of moisturecauses them to move while lying on theground. This all contributes to a single re-sult: the seed buries itself.Among my botanist friends interested insuch things none had ever actually seen theseeds in operation. They had all seen themsquirm when wet but so far as actual selfburial went, they were taking the word ofsomeone else.In such cases I never feel comfortableabout passing the word along until I havefirst-hand evidence. So I searched theground beneath filaree plants that wereshedding seed. The only seeds I foundwere tangled in the grass or scattered hap-hazard upon leaves and pebbles. Obvi-ously, these seeds had not come to a suc-cessful end.A closer search with a hand lens showedmany of the bristles sticking out of theground. Some of these were not fastenedto anything. Others were still attached tothe screws and some force was required topull them up. Obviously, they did burythemselves, but so far I hadn't caught onein the act. The next move was to coax afew seeds into a demonstration for mybenefit. I rigged up several pieces of ap-paratus for this purpose and they areshown in the illustration. The experimentsshowed the action of the seed mechanismto be as follows:Any seed that drops to an unlittered sur-face is out of luck from the start. It simplylies on the ground and squirms withoutdoing anything useful. But there is nearlyalways abundant trash under bushesdead twigs, grass, pieces of stick, etc. Theseaccidental aids which can be used as over-head stanchions are essential for efficientperformance.When a seed drops it is usually twistedand remains so until fog, dew or rain fur-nishes enough water for it to react andstraighten out. When it dries it twists upagain and the awn gropes around until bychance it meets some object against whichit can brace itself. Now the bristle willwork like a ratchet and block any looserotation of the seed as a whole. Only theshaft can move. As the screw twists anduntwists with the ratchet braced, the tipof the arrowhead begins the excavating op-eration.

The head is furnished with microscopichairs that point backward and act as barbs.They also have a spiral twist so they func-tion like the threads of the gimlet tip on anauger bit. But here the resemblance to anyhumanly constructed mechanism ends.12 T HE D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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The spiral twist does not continue aroundthe point as do the threads of a gimlet.They stop at a vertical dividing linewhere they meet a new set of barbs spiral-ing in an opposite direction exactly as iftwo screws, one with a right hand twistand the other twisted to the left were to besplit lengthwise and two halves of op-positely threaded screws welded together.The result of this bi-symmetrical arrange-ment of twists is to make it dig in either di-rection.Other plants of entirely unrelated spe-cies use modifications of this m ethod. O ne,mountain mahogany {Cercocarpus of sev-eral species) is provided with a longplume which acts both as a parachute andas the shaft of a drill. This seed needs nooverhead stanchion. The free end of theplume bends down and braces against theground, then bows up in the middle anddigs in much the same way as Erodium.Other ingenious seeding mechanismsare found among the grasses. Although wemight not suspect it, the grasses are flow-ering plants just as much as is Erodium,and their blossoms examined under a mi-croscope are extremely beautiful. Al-though the grasses didn't appear until latein the history of the world, say about 60,-000,000 years ago during the UpperCretaceous, they are highly specializedplants and have been a great success sincethey are the most widely distributed of allthe higher plants.Some grasses are carried great distancesby the wind. Seeds of Vasey grass (Paspa-lum sp.) have been trapped on gelatinplates at 5000 feet altitude. But the seedI am about to describe utilizes the wind'senergy by way of a spring motor attachedto the seed itself.

Foxtail or mouse barley (Hordeummurinnm) is so common in Arizona andSouthern California that in the spring itssquirrel-tail-like spikes are familiar to ev-eryone. The seeds are furnished with anarrangement of bristles and awns whichstand out at acute angles. The bristles arevery elastic and carry microscopic barbspointing toward their tips. When theseseeds fall on level ground swept by abreeze they turn like weathervanes andpoint into the wind. Unless the wind isstrong enough to move heavier objects theseeds are not blown away but brace them-selves with the tips of their awns againstthe ground. The push of the wind againstthe seed bends the awns so that they areput under tension and store up some of theenergy of the breeze. When the wind diesdown they straighten out and propel theseed forward so that it may sometimescreen against the wind.The next seed to be considered also fav-ors the spring motor type of propulsion al-most entirely. In this case the springworks by the action of hvrf-nsrooic mois-ture very much as did Erodium seed, butthere are important differences.

5Experiments to show ho w filaree seeds plant themselves: A, this seed simplyrotates in the wire loop and gets nowhere since it has no prop to catch the bristle.B, this seed can dig in, the bristle catches against the w ire upright at 1. It may takehours for the se ed to bury itself. C, this seed will dig in fast: T he arm 2 is bent fromfine aluminum wire and slides loosely on the upright. A piece of split m atch stickholds the free end of the bristle and keeps it from turning, the seed has to stay putwhile it bores into the ground. With this apparatus it takes about an hour. Thealternately wet and dry atmospheres for these experiments were furnished by cover-ing w ith an inverted glass having piece of wet b lotter in the bottom.6 Natural conditions corresponding to the experiments: A on clean ground,theseed gets nowhere. B, propped in dry grass and ringed with gravel. C, the bristlecaught between two blades of grass is free to slide up an d down.7 Positions taken by a single ivild oat in a saucer of water during two minutes:A, just dropped in. B, begins to kick. C, the middle awn catches and begins to actas a spring. D, the spring slips and the seed turns over. E, good for one more kick,it again turns over and then straightens out at F a nd G.The two varieties of wild oats (Avenafatua and A. barbata) are such commonplants it is surprising their entertainmentpossibilities have been so largely over-looked. Along roadsides and in waste

places spring brings out many tall grace-fully nodding stems with droopingbunches of long-whiskered seeds. After afew warm days the green grain ripens intoclusters of dangling objects like fantastic

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R E C R E A T I O N . . . . P h o t o C o n t e s tT here's fun to be ha d on the desert chan ge, relaxation, and theopportunity to pursue hobbies. We think there should be some goodpictures in the desert recreation yo u m ost enjoy, w hether it be hiking,riding, rockhunting, or eating and yarning by the campfire. Marchphoto contest prizes will go to photographers who successfully trans-

scribe these pleasures in black and white.First prize is $10, and $5 for second place. For non-prize-winningshots acce pte d for publication $2 ea ch w ill be paid . Entries must reac hthe D esert office in E l Centro by March 20, and winn ing prints willbe published in May.

HER E AR E THE R ULES1Prints must be on black and white, 5x7 or larger, printed onglossy paper.2All entries must be in the Desert Magazine office by the 20thof the contest month.3Prints will be returned only when return posta ge is enclosed.4Contests are open to both amateur and professional photo-graphers. Desert Magazine requires first publication rights of prize

winning pictures only.5Time and place of photograph are immaterial except thatthey must be from the desert Southwest.6Judges will be selected from Desert's editorial staff, an dawards will be made immediately after the close of the contest eachmonth.7Each photograph submitted should be fully labeled as tosubject, time, place. Also as to technical data: shutter speed, hourof day, etc.AD D R ES S ALL ENTR IES TO P HO TO E D ITOR . D E SER T M AG AZINE,

TH E AEL CENT R O. CALIFORNIA

Several mechanical functions arebrought into play in each case I have de-scribed. First we have the effect of capil-lary action and surface tension shownwhen the dry awns absorb moisture. Nextthere is the effect of elasticity evident whenthe wet awns begin to react. Then there isthe effect of the torque in the springmechanism in each awn; the twist is in thesame direction in each. It is as if a longspring had been twisted lengthwise, thendoubled so that the halves form the twoawns. Now they will both rotate in thesame direction and the seed is propelled asif by twin screws. Finally there is the prin-ciple of the barb, the most efficient of allsimple means for preventing motion back-ward.

The accepted explanation for all theseapplications of mechanical principles soneatly applied, these self-operated drills,springs and revolving screws, is that theyevolved through a series of accidental vari-ations, which, present as merest sugges-tions at first, proved to be advantageous tothe species. This is perfectly reasonable,but a point easily overlooked is that whencell division and growth had begun to fol-low the lines of the preexisting but invis-ible pattern for the completed plant andseed, these were accidents that had to hap-pen.

There is a profound significance to allthis. As one delves deeper and deeper intothe strange miracles of the natural worldthere comes increasing respect for that in-visible Power which brought these thingsto pass.insects. But what at first appear to be apair of, or sometimes three, long blacklegs bent at the knee, prove to be the awnsof two or three seeds. A handful of thesethings dropped into a bowl of water cometo life as a squirming, kicking tangle ofpseudo-bugs. The legs cross and twist ina most amusing way and this keeps up un-til they have all straightened out and theseeds float as sedately as so many deadcockroaches in a bowl of soup.

Help these seeds out and let them baskin the sunlight and soon they bend backinto the same gawky objects they werewhen picked. In drying they sometimesturn over and over and may even jump for-ward, a remarkable feat for an inanimateobject operated by a very simple mechan-ism. The jumping of wild oat seed takesplace when one awn twists against anotherso that they both bend under the pressure.As they bend, the awns, which cross diag-onally, slip toward their tips. Finally oneslides off the end of the other with a jerkwhich causes the suddenly freed awn tokick against the ground hard enough tocapsize the whole seed. Since the barbs thatarm the awn prevent the seed from spring-ing backward, the kick drives it straightahead.

JALOPY JOE By Frank Adams

"Did ya get that gasoline stove a w or k i n ' Joe?"14 T HE D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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I N S I S TEN T S A N DSB y G R A C E C U L B E R T S O NSan Diego, CaliforniaI grow content beside this placid sea,So broad and blue, so silver in the sun,At least, content as one could ever beWho's seen the desert when the day is done;Beheld arched desert skies with bright, far stars,Or witnessed sunrise over waiting sands,And known the quiet that no harsh noise mars,Lost in that peace a desert mood demands . . .Though prairie-born, no fields of waving grain,Nor shaded streets where elm and maple meet,No lilacs by old gates nor summer rain,Recall more urgently my wayward feet . . .Though prairie-born, possessed of pleasant seas,My heart holds fast to desert memories.

THE CRUCIBLEBy IDA SM IT HPrescott, ArizonaIts rugged sides are seared.Mid desert wastes it lies alone;The drifting sands and winds of years,Across its form have blown.In other days, of human toil,Ore filled this homely cup;A melting pot, where gold and drossTogether bubbled up.In seething, fierce travailThe hardened rocks, and old,Were crushed and boiled to separateThe leavings from the gold.The hands that wielded rock and toolThrough years of toil untold,From out life's cup, of smiles and tearsHave gleaned their precious gold.

Q od

HEW mmB y T A N Y A S O U T H

Let not my feet be leaden nowThat Morn has risen from the night.Still unto God's Will let me bow,And still work staunchly for the right.With eager and devoted care,With trust and faith in Life Divine,Still let me on the straight Path fare,And live in but the Lord's design.Or good, or ill, whate'er befall,God, God alone shall hold my all!

B y H . T . M U Z Z YLos Angeles, CaliforniaThere, where boundless spaces, parched andbarren,Are fraught with arid life and dry unyieldingfire,No breathing thing may hope or dare exist,To thwart the unknown aim of God's desire.Unfr uitful, sterile plains that reach theirtendrils out,To grasp and tear asunder all that would annoy.Its potent vastness of the day and deathlikehush at night,Must always keep intact the thought to wreckand to destroy.Here within this land of heated stone and sandis placedAn added virus in the million creeping things,That act as sentinels against a living world,To consecrate this grave which dire destructionbrings.This spot of mystery without our every joy,Must have rebelled in the far and remote past,Against Almighty's wish, and this irreverence,Was thus repaid with this bleak and barren

What is that finite soul that can destructionplay,Build a wilderness, then, with equal lay,Place within its barren borders there a tinyflower so rare,To waste its sweetness on that deathlike desertair.

METEOR SHOWERBy MABE L FARRAR E L L ISRising Star, Texas

One night a million fairies dancedWith shining slippers on,I saw them twinkle in and out'Neath skirts of white chiffon.I saw them glide across a floorOf polished midnight blueInto a sea of milky-wayTo bathe in nectar dew.They danced and whirled in silent gleeAll through the glamorous night,'Till morning rolled his chariot upAnd hauled them out of sight.

TE NDER FOOT MINERB y N E L L M U R B A R G E RCosta Mesa, CaliforniaI'm getting pretty seedy now while grubbingout the gold,And my fingers aren't so supple any more,As when I was custom-tailored to a pretty show-case moldIn those namby-pam by city days of yore . . .I never saw a gold pan till I bought me one thisyear,And a pick and shovel had no great appeal;I hadn't seen the sunrise once in twenty years,I fear,And I'd never cooked a desert skillet meal.

My fingernails are broken and my hair's combednow and then-For the time slips by unheeded, sort of fast;Every day I shaved back yonder; now, perhapsin nine or ten,For I have to make my precious water last.As I pour the tepid nectar from my rusty oldcanteen,(Taking care that not a single drop shallspi l l ! )I think how I wasted gallons when I 'd bathe andprim p and preen . . .Now I wonder how it feels to drink your fill!But this game it somehow holds me, for thegold-dust in my panBrings a thrill a pay-check never brought tom e ;And the smell of beans and bacon and hot coffeein a can,Is more alluring than a swank cafe could be.When I figure daily earnings I must add in

everythingAir and health and strength and appetiteand then,I still never have the profits that my city jobwould bring . . .But you'll never see me at a desk again! VISIONSBy MARGARE T BICELos Alamos, New MexicoI never see a mountain peak,But that I long to scale its heights.I never see a forest deep,But that I want to go and seek,'Long its winding trails a waterfall,Or a quaking aspen straight and tall.

I never hear a rushing stream,But that a trout I yearn to take.I never see a campfire's gleam,But that a tale I start to dream,Of covered wagons and outlaws bold,Of a redskin warrior and placer gold.

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; \ :

T>6f Nevada H ills, rich fields for the rockhou nd. Left, across historic Colum bus Marsh, theMonte Cristo mountains with gem jasper and com mon op al. Right foreground, foothills ofthe Silver Peak range which hold the remnants of the F ish Lake petrified forests.Right background, Lone M ountain with fossil beds at its base.

So She Hunted Gem StonesBy HAROLD O. WEIGHTPhotographs by the AuthorrWO YEARS ago, Maude Kiblerhad never seen a rock cut. But to-day she feels that her health, hopeof future happinessperhaps even herlifeare gifts from the stones she seeksin the Nevada hills and which she saws,shapes and polishes in her little lapidaryshop in Mina.Mina is a not very big spot on U. S. 95the Good Neighbor highwaysome 70miles northwest of Tonopah. Railroadsbuilt Mina, and it still is largely a railroadtown, although the narrow gauge fromCalifornia, which once had its terminus

there, has been torn up and the Tonopahand Goldfield is abandoning its Mina-Goldfield line. Four hundred people livein Mina, and there is no directory. But al-16

Maude Kibler found peace ofmind and work for her hands inthe hills of Nevadajust as menand women down through theages have been going to the des-ert for new strength and courage.

most anyone can tell you where "the ladywho polishes stones" lives.Mrs. Kibler sat beside the grindingwheels in her little shop and unconsciouslyfingered a half-finished gem stone as shetalked. Her story begins and the old lifeendedas it did in many American homeswith the arrival of a telegram from theWar department. Her only son, Stanley,had been killed in action. A paratrooper,

he died on Christmas Evethe birthdayof the Prince of Peace.Maude Kibler tried to absorb the blowand go on. The family then lived at Haw-

thorne, seat of Mineral county, at the footof Walker lake. She had a young daughter,Molly Lee, and during the days the routineof housework kept her hands busy. Butthrough the long dragging nights shecould not sleep.

Then Herbert, her husband, suffered abreakdown from overwork and worryabout his wife. She knew that he wouldnot recover while her condition remainedas it was. She convinced him he shouldtake a prospecting vacation by himself.Left alone, she thought that she couldfight her own problem out and be wellagain when he returned.But the spirit to fight was not there.Broken, insufficient sleep told on her phy-sical condition. At last, she found herselfthinking of drugs to give her body rest.Frightened into action, she went to a doc-tor the next day.

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The doctor shook his head. "Medicinecan't help you," he said. "Do somethingentirely new that will absorb your mindand occupy your handssomething thatwill be intensely interesting to you. Get anew hobby and ride it to death."It didn't sound like much of a cure.Surely a hobby could not drive away theaching emptiness left by the death of her

boy. But the doctor was offering a pre-scription almost as old as the history ofmedicine. Today, forms of occupationaltherapy are working miracle cures withthose maimed in body and mind by thesecond world war. As early as the secondcentury A. D., the great Greek physicianGalen declared: "Employment is nature'sbest physician and essential to human hap-piness."The territory around Hawthorne, Minaand Coaldale is a great collecting field forsemi-precious stones. So it was not sur-prising that a gem cutting company should

be established at Mina. The companyneeded money to help finance operationand it needed workers to learn the trade.Word of it came to Maude Kibler.Here was something which seemed tofill the doctor's prescription. She knewnothing about the work. It required activeuse of hands and brain. The thought ofbringing out the hidden beauty of drabstones stirred her interest. She investedpart of the gratuity pay the governmenthad sent after the death of her son, hookedup the trailer house, and moved to Mina.The work was difficult at first, and therewas little pleasure in it. But it absorbedevery moment of her attention, and whennight came she was tired physically. Shecould sleep.

Herbert Kibler came back from hisprospecting trip. He had no gold, but hehad found health. He also found that hisfamily had moved and had set up house-keeping elsewhere during his absence.When he reached Mina, his wife talkedanimatedly about things of which he hadnever heard. But her face had lost its grayand haggard look. She no longer twistedand turned at night, staring sleeplessly atthe ceiling. Herbert nodded his head ap-provingly and found himself a job inMina.

The company paid Mrs. Kibler fivecents a carat for every perfect stone turnedin. At first the monetary returns were verysmall and the pile of rejected stones large.But she learned about diamond saws andlap wheels, grits, dopping sticks, tin ox-ides, flats and cabochons. Her mind,forced into new channels, functionedagain. As she worked over the unfamiliartools, a sense of balance and proportionreturned. And she learned the sheer joyof seeing a brilliant gem come into beingfrom the dull rough. That was much moreimportant than the $200 earned in fourmonths.

Mrs. Kibler ou tside her lapidary shop in Mina, N evada.Herbert was pleased at the way thingswere going, but he shook his head criti-cally. "You're only getting half the pleas-ure from it that you should," he said."Why not go out into the hills and findthe rocks yourself." He knew what desertsun, clear air and outdoor exercise woulddo.So almost every week the panel truckwas loaded with food and prospectingtools and they went off into the hills and

mountains that lie scattered about Mina.The Kiblers were inexperienced at first,and suffered all the trials and tribulationsof the budding rockhound. Places that

looked likely proved to have nothing ofvalue. Stones which looked spectacular inthe field failed to polish.But friends helped, telling them whereto look for agate and petrified wood andturquoise. The panel truck began to bringback more valuable loads.It was all fun, whether returns weregood or poo r. Molly Lee loved to scrambleover hillsides and hunt for rocks. But shewasn't a rockhound, she insisted. No, nora pebble pup, either. She just broughtpretty rocks for Mommy to polish. Rusty,the cocker spaniel, was a pebble pup,though. "H e picks up rocks, too," she said.Plans were made for longer trips and

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Molly Lee Kibler, eight, says she isn'ta pebble pup. She just finds prettystones for Mommy to polish.overnight camps when the weather grewwarmer. There were to be expeditions tothe Black Rock desert and Virgin valley.Then an unexpected blow fell. The gemcutting company moved south to Hender-son, Nevada, to take advantage of thepower and facilities in the great plantwhich had housed Basic Magnesium dur-ing the war. Mrs. Kibler couldn't go withthem. Molly Lee was in school and Her-bert had signed up for a job that wouldtake at least six more months to complete.She faced the possibility of the return ofthose endless days with no lapidary workto fill the long hours.

But Herbert Kibler was a resourcefulman, and he valued what her hobby haddone for his wife. "I've got your nose tothe grindstone," he laughed, "and I'mgoing to keep it there."He took a look at the gem -cutting equip-ment, then visited dumps and automobilewrecking yards. Out of his researchescame a highly w orkable diamond saw builtupon the foundation of an old coasterwagon, auto steering shafts and axles, andother wooden and metallic odds and ends.He even created an arbor with sealed bear-ings. He went to Reno and, buying onlysuch parts as he couldn't construct, builtcut-off saw, grinding bench, sanders, andall the necessary paraphernalia of thetrade.Then he elaborated on the set-up, add-ing touches that no commercial equipmentboasted. He piped water to the grind-stones. When Mrs. Kibler developedrheumatism in her hands, he connected

the water to the heating system so that hotor cold was available. He wired lightsdown on the wheels, then placed mirrorsto throw the light onto the work itself.Then he started to construct a 20-inch saw."He works six days a week on his regu-lar job, and the seventh day for me," Mrs.Kibler laughs.But she hopes that some day he will beable to work those six days in the lapidaryshop with her. She hopes to carry her hob-by to the point where they will be able tolive upon the returns. She wants to workwith Nevada stones only, making indi-vidualistic jewelry of which she and thestate can be proud. She and her husbandare learning to work silver so the jewelrywill be theirs from discovery of the stoneto its final setting.There are other ideas and activitiessome of them now being worked upon,others for that future which once more hasbecome important: Experiments with thesetting of less expensive stones in plastic;try-outs of Nevada's natural abrasives.Then there is the motel that Herbert Kib-ler is building for M. C. Sinnott in Mina.The motel is to have many unique features.One of them will be a great fireplace inthe lounge which will be faced with pre-cious and semi-precious Nevada stones.Maude Kibler will select, cut and polishthe stones.Still in the future, but nearer now, arethose trips to Virgin valley, Black Rockdesert and the great collecting fields inwhich Nevada abounds. For Maude Kib-ler has found that only through work cancome release from sorrow, and that fromthe great heart of the desert comes themental and physical strength to face life.

It is no accident that most of the wo rld'sgreat religions were born in desert solitudeunder a desert sun. It is not simply becauseof altitude and climate that hospitals andsanitariums are built in a land of raggedhills, armored vegetation, burned rockand sand. In the desert mankind finds hisnearest approach to the great healingpower of Naturehealing for diseasedbodies and healing for spirits broken bythe savagery that seems innate in our so-called civilization.Maude Kibler hopes that others maygain a little help from the lessons shelearned on the long, bitter road back fromthat day when the telegram from the Wardepartment came."If only they would get out and huntrocks and get close to Naturethose peo-ple who are grieving themselves to d eath,"she said. "If only they would find workfor their hands and minds they would dis-cover thatperhaps without their evenknowing itthe healing had begun."She caressed the half-finished gemstonein her hand. "Most people would say thatit is only a little piece of rock. But findingit and cutting and polishing it has meantlife to me. I still miss my boy terriblyIalways will. But I know he approves ofwhat I am doing. The future is no longerblank. I have found my faith in God again,and in the Tightness of things."She looked through the window of herlapidary shop at the jagged Pilot moun-tains, glittering under the summer sun. Ifelt that she was saying, in her own words,something that had been written long,long ago."I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,from whence cometh my help."

Herbert Kibler with the rock-saw he built from the b ed of a child's wagon andodds and ends from junked automob iles. And it works!18 T HE D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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Some of the trees that died of fear.

Here is an unsolved mystery of the Navajo countrya 1000-acre forestof juniper that sud den ly wither ed an d lost its foliage. But the Indians ha vean exp lanatio n which satisfies them the trees died of fear. T oney R ich-ardson drove deep into the heart of a vast roadless desert to get this storyfor D esert Ma gazine readers.Bv TONEY RICHARDSON

/ O S GUIDE, I took along with meI / into the far western Navajo coun-try Tsecody because he knew theKaibito plateau. In fact he knew that partof Arizona as well as he did the inside ofhis hogan.In the sand I drew a rough map of thearea we were to cover, showing the greaterlandmarks such as the Colorado river, Na-vajo mountain, old Lee's ferry, and a pro-fusion of canyons and mesas. Tsecodystudied the map at great length. Then hemade a mark with the end of a stick. Thatwas our objectivethe hogan of HosteenClahbidoney, whom I was going into thisremote country to see on an importantmatter.From Kaibito trading post we drove 20-odd miles through the Land of MarchingGiants. The name derives from a series ofsloping natural monuments in lines thatactually make them appear to be marchingacross the landscape.From the Copper Mine district we wentnorth, soon reaching the end of traveledroads. But the tracks of a Navajo wagoncontinued to the north, and we followedthem, winding through the sagebrushalong the route of a long-used sheep trail.

Finally, up on a high bench overlookingthe great basin of the Colorado river wecame upon a road where wagon wheelshad cut the soil into fine reddish dust. Thiscould mean only one thinga source ofwater. Moreover, the route of the waterhauling wagons took off over the benchto a low red mesa. Down from this mesawould be Hosteen Clahbidoney's hogan.A mental calculation told me that wecould save a few miles by taking this roadand moving down from the red mesa toanother bench. Yet according to Tsecody'splan we should go from this spot over arough, probably impassable trail aroundthe mesa.I told Tsecody that I didn't see any rea-son why we shouldn't take this nearerroute. That is, provided there wasn't adeep canyon barring our way."There is no canyon," he admitted. ButI noticed that his face was dead set."Then is there any reason why weshouldn't go this closer way?" I asked."Yes, there is, " he replied stiffly. "Only

the wagons dare invade the place wherethe Trees Died of Fear.""Trees that died of fear?" I asked, star-ing at him.

"Yes," he answered seriously. "A greatforest of them. All dead.""Are you afraid of them?" I asked .After some reflection Tsecody shookhis head."Such strange things are best avoidedwhen it is not necessary to go to them,"he advised. "No, no Navajo is afraid ofthem. It is only as I have spo ken."Vaguely I could recall having heard ofthe dead trees before. Navajo referencesto them had, however, given me the im-pression the dead trees consisted of a smallclump here and there, scattered over awide expanse. I figured also that theremust be growing timber in between thedead ones, and that there was some un-derstandable reason for their death.Tsecody was reluctant to proceed, butfinally consented. Finding myself so un-expectedly close to the "dead forest" I feltan eagerness to have a look at the area. W eproceeded along the wagon road. The trailwas easy to negotiate. Growing timberfringed the edge of the mesa. We sooncame through it into the edge of the deadforest.Rather, I should say that we burst uponit with dramatic suddenness. One momentwe were in green timber of the high pla-teau country. Here there was grass andweeds, and blooming flowers. Thenabruptly that ended and we were face toface with the great expanse of a dead land.

It was really dead, this red land beforeus, devoid of practically all vegetation.The gaunt, stark trunks of trees continuedunbroken ahead, in a desolate array whereM A R C H , 1 9 4 7 19


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VAJO SPR. !! "'':::'!')''. " ' N / . :

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To CAMERON

even the gregarious pifion jay refused toventure. Instead of finding only a few iso-lated clumps of dead timber, before me laywhat once had been a veritable forest.Tsecody seemed to have forgotten hisformer reluctance now. He walked outwith me to examine the trees, and talkedall the while. We investigated variousspots, driving deeper among the denudedtrees.The forest covered approximately 1000acres. On the east, south and southwestsides, pinon and juniper timber pressedin against the lifeless area in a dark solidgreen line. This made the scene all themore startling.The majority of the stricken trees werefrom seven to twelve feet high, although afew here and there were slightly taller. Inoted a few burned trees, probably setafire by lightning during storms.Mystified, I set about trying to discoverthe cause of the blight which had strickenthis area. There existed at this late date noevidence of a ground fire. Tsecody insistedno fire had killed the timber here, and thetrees themselves bore out this conclusion.

There was little ground vegetation inthe way of grass, weeds or shrubs. In someof the draws we did find sagebrush. It had

the appearance of having taken root andgrown in place since the timber died.My estimate was that the forest hadbeen dead about 25 or 30 years. Withouta doubt most of the trees were juniper. Allthe bark on the trunks and limbs had longsince disappeared. The stark trunks gavethe area a ghostly aspect.Tsecody would discuss little of what heknew about the dead forest. Returning tothe car we drove to Hosteen Clahbidoney'shogan. The re w ith my business completed,we discussed the dead forest, and latercalled at more hogans in the vicinity seek-ing further information. The Navajo in-variably referred to the timber as the TreesThat Died of Fear.One man thought the forest had beenkilled by an underbrush fire. It was hardlynecessary to point out the lack of such evi-dence. Another Navajo theory was thata drouth 28 years before killed the timber.But if this was true, why had not some ofthe growing timber around the edges ofthe dead forest died also?We came upon still another explana-tion. One old man told us a "star" fell inthe area 30 years before. He said at thetime he had been herd ing sheep, but was along distance from the scene. He suggest-

ed the flame and gas from this ' star"killed the timber, or scared the trees todeath.On White Point mesa ten miles or morefrom the place, we found an old man whosaid the forest had been dead for half acentury. While this is extremely doubtful,his tale holds interesting points. He be-lieves the timber is a different species fromthat around the area. A long time ago, hesaid, grass grew profusely in among thetrees. During a very bad drouth the Na-vajo drove their stock in there. The coverwas eaten completely off until the sod wascut into fine dust. The bark and leaves ofthe trees being palatable to animals, theypromptly ate it away, thus killing the tim-ber.Juniper is not palatable. Few animalswill eat it, so that possibility hardly istenable. Another aged Navajo told us thata worm ate the roots of the trees, com-pleted its life cycle and died along withthe forest.With one fact, all the old people in theregion were agreedthat the trees diedsuddenly, all at once, a long time ago. Theforest lay green and thick one day, only tobecome shriveled and dead the next.Hosteen Clah told me his brother rodethrough the forest one day on his way tothe Colorado river. H e remained there twodays, and came back to find the trees dyingand the limbs already dropping.Clah said the trees were ghaad. That isthe Navajo nam e for cedarthe juniper ofthe high plateau country in northern Ari-zona. If this is true and the grain of thewood indicates it is, another question im-mediately arises. What happened to thestringy, brown bark? Nowhere in the for-est did I find any adhering to a trunk, norany fragments lying around on the ground.All the trees I examined, and cut into,obviously died suddenly and in the sum-mer of some year, just as the Navajo claim.Their demise came so swiftly the gummysap remained to harden the boles whichhas tended to preserve the wood from de-cay.The fire theory is definitely out. Over-grazing, or that stock ate the bark andleaves, is likewise not possible. There is noevidence of a meteorite having fallen inthe area. There are no surface marks of anykind, and terrific heat from a falling heav-enly body would have left signs of fire.A drouth would have to extend over aperiod of two or three years to kill junipertrees. Also, the dead timber would haveverged into the standing live forest aroundthe area. No definite line of demarcationwould have remained.To determine if the roots of the treeshad been attacked by some kind of insect, Idug up some of them in various parts ofthe forest. There existed no sign of suchan attack.Indeed, the more I have investigated thedead forest, the less reason there appears

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Lee Kana swood standing beside a 30-year-oldjuniper in the dwarf forest. Close-up of on e of the junipers which for no a pparent reasonshed their foliage and died.died at all hardly makes sense.

The growing forest around the area

If a plant disease attacked the timber,

Following my first visit to the Trees

"Have you seen the dwarf trees?" he"Dwarf trees?"A R C H , 1 9 4 7

"Why sure," he replied. "Small trees,most of them hardly more than kneehigh."We went two miles to the west, and outin the open found the dwarf trees. Many ofthem were hardly more than 12 or 14inches tall. A large number were kneehigh, and some were three feet tall. A latercheck with tree rings gave the age of thissmall forest as around 20 years, more orless.

The small trees are perfectly formed.They resemble pot plants, although theyare somewhat brushy. The explanation forthe dwarf junipers probably is lack of soiland water. The thin layer of soil over thebedrock beneath is not sufficient to retainany amount of moisture. Rainfall, andsnow in the winter, however, keep thesmall trees growing.In the dead forest the reverse is true.The fertile soil is not only deep, but the

rock beneath it is porous. This combina-tion retains plenty of moisture.Scientists of Navajo service have ex-amined the dead forest. They have shaken

their heads, declaring at this late date noth-ing remains to give them a definite clue tothe cause.So, until a better explanation is given,we can only accept the Navajo legend thatthese trees died of fear.

ARCHEOLOGISTS WILL MAPALL KNOWN IND IAN SITE SSearch for new Southern California In-dian sites and the mapping of those al-ready known will be the principal under-taking of the newly formed Southern Cali-fornia Archeological Survey associationformed under the sponsorship of South-west Museum in Los Angeles January 25.First suggested by Edwin F. Walker, re-search assistant at the museum, the organ-ization will invite the cooperation of mu-seums and professional and amateur arche-ologists. Curator M. R. Harrington pre-

sided at the organization meeting and Dr.George W. Brainerd was appointed tem-porary chairman. Weekend field trips areplanned.21


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Harry E.Miller, veteran of thesouthwest desert,and one of three crosses carved in the rocknear Lupton, which m ay have been chiseled by De Niza and companions.

Clues to the FabulousSeven Cities of CibolaFor many months, news dispatches have been coming from NewMexico and Arizona hinting at the possible discovery of the sites of thefabled Seven Cities of Cibolaonce goal of Spanish conquistadores.No one can say for sure that such cities ever existedbut here is oneman who believes he has found themand an archeologist who has un-covered some interesting evidence of an ancient culture.

By ROBERT A. BARNESP ho tog raphs by Mullarky of G al lup^ / OUR hundred and eight years/ have passed since Friar Marcos deNiza with his Indian guides and

servants sought the Seven Cities ofCibola. Neither the Spanish padre nor hissuccessors ever found the fabulous wealthof gold, silver and turquoise reported to22

be inpossession of theCibola Indian s.His-torians today are inclined to regard theSeven Cities as a myth.But Harry E. Millerhe prefers to becalled Two-Gun Milleris not so sure.Miller, who is as unconventional a soul asone will ever meetwill tell you through

his flowing gray beard that he has locatedruins which he believes to be the lostremnants of Cibola.The ruins lie astraddle the Arizona-New Mexico state line and are scatteredover an area north and south of Lupton,Arizona. They cover an estimated 10,000acres or more. The area adjoins the pro-posed Manuelito national monumentwest of Gallup.With his friend and colleague, MiltonA. Wetherill, an archeologist attached tothe staff of Museum of Northern Arizona,Miller has spent months locating and ex-ploring the sites of seven distinct centersof population, the first being only 200yards from U. S. Highway 66.Millions of

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thrill-seeking travelers have driven un-uspectingly bywhat may prove to be themost historic spot in the Southwest andone of the most ancient in the UnitedStates.In May, 1946, Miller and Wetherillguided a party from Gallup includingM . L. Woodacd, secretary of the influen-tial United Indian Traders association,A. W. Barnes, publisher of the GallupIndependent, Horace Boardman of theNavajo service, Tom Mullarky, Gallupphotographer, and thewriter, on a tour ofthe nearest of thecities. This was the firsttime Miller had made his findings pub-lic. Hehas since taken thewriter onotherexpeditions as newevidence hasbeen un-earthed to support his thesis.Since his first discoveries Miller has be-come convinced, not only that he hasfound the site of Cibola, but that FriarMarcos deNiza returned to the spot afterleaving the Coronado expedition in 1540and carried onmissionary work among theCibolans. The evidence is far from com-plete and Miller hopes to interest archeolo-gists who will have the time andauthorityto give the region a thorough investiga-tion.Friar Marcos' report in 1539 of a cityglistening with golden roofs andgates ofturquoise was the spark which set off oneexpedition after another by the Spaniardsfrom Mexico."I came within sight of Cibola, whichis situate on a plain at the foot of a roundhill," Friar Marcos wrote. This hill, as thefriar explains at another place, was viewedfrom a mountain across theplain.Miller pointed out to his companions ahigh mesa, which he believes was thefriar's vantage point, and a round hill ofsolid rock with a plain at its bottom. Thisplain, if it actually is the one reported byFriar Marcos, now is transversed by theRio Puerco, the Santa Fe railway andHighway 66.

Then hetook us to the base of the roundhill. At the base are ancient petroglyphs,which he said none of themodern Indiansof the vicinityNavajo, Zuni nor Hopiswere able to decipher or explain. Hereand there can be seen more recent Navajocarvings in the cliff, done bypresent-daysheepherders andsilversmiths of thetribe.We went up a narrow box canyon be-tween walls perhaps 250feet high on oneside and 30 feet on theother. All throughthis area the floor of the canyon is linedwith bits of broken pottery."This pottery," declared Wetherill, "isdefinitely not of modern origin. Of coursehere andthere youmay find recent shardsmixed in, butmost of that lying sogener-ously in this canyon, and for that matter,throughout this entire region extendingat least nine miles in a northerly direction

and three to thesouth, is four or five hun-dred years old at the very least." Wetherillsaid later that he would classify the pot-

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tery in three periods: From the year 1 to750 A. D., from 1000 to 1270, and from1300 to 1600.Storm floods evidently have exposedancient burial grounds for we saw on thesurface of the ground several pieces of hu-man skulls and a 16-inch human femur."I believe that in ten square miles ofthis area the total population was at onetime greater than thepresent-day popula-tions of either Arizona or NewMexico,"Wetherill declared. "The culture that ex-isted here is without question differentfrom any which hasbeen found elsewherein the Southwest."He pointed to some holes in themassiverock cliff, ranging from the size of a fistto that of a basketball. For themost partthey were located at a height of 10 to 15feet, although some were much higher."Many of those holes were not, as you mayhave supposed, made bynatural erosion ofwind andwater," hesaid. "They were thework of people who lived here long agopossibly even the Basketmakers, of nearly2000 years ago. The only use we can figure

out for them, aside from foot and handholds in some instances, is to support theends of rafters which once rested in them.What makes this culture unique is the un-usual method of building which they had.Apparently they built their houses againstthe sides of cliffs, going up four and fivestories."A clue to the purpose of the holes isfound in Friar Marcos' description of Ci-bola, which states:" . . . all the inhabitants of the city lieupon beds raised a good height from theground, with quilts and canopies overthem, which cover thesaid beds . . ."No evidence has yetbeen found tosub-stantiate the belief of theSpanish conquis-tadores that the cities of Cibola were literaltreasure chests of gold and turquoise. Nometals of anykind have been found thereyet. Wetherill advanced the theory thatthe tales of gold may have arisen from the

value placed bysome of the Indians of thatday on hematite ore, a small handful ofwhich even today is regarded as highly asM A R C H , 1 9 4 7 23


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slave girls. There were whole streets inCibola, he told the Spaniards, occupied ex-clusively by goldsmiths and silversmiths.Turquoise and other gems were set in doorframes and on the fronts of houses.After a first expedition had gotten lostand reached the west coast of Mexico, twobarefoot Franciscan friars were sent north-ward in 1539 by the viceroy of New Spain

to explore the kingdom of Cibola. One ofthem soon turned back, but the other, F riarAncient petroglyphs found on one ofthe walls in hupton area. There arethousands of similar carvings inthe region.

Explorers Milton A . Wetherill and"Two-G un" Miller who have discov-ered a culture "different from any-thing previously found in theSouthwest."gold by certain Southwestern tribes, whouse it as a base for facial paints."I have seen as much as five dollarspaid for a little handful of this ore,"Wetherill said.To date only superficial excavating hasbeen done, since the site is located on theNavajo reservation and federal permits arenecessary for such work.Evidence of burial grounds in the areais plentiful, with several having been dis-covered so far. Huge kitchen middens, asthe archeologists term the old refuse heap s,have been found throughout the area.On the northern side of the mesa onwhich this first city stood, across a shallowvalley about 200 yards wide, stands B attle-ship mountain, named in the eighties be-cause of its resemblance to the battleshipsof that day. Atop this mesa are three stonecisterns or reservoirs hollowed out of theridge of solid rock which held the watersupply of the former inhabitants. Severalhundred feet of trenches had been chiseledlaboriously in the rock to direct rainfallinto the reservoirs.Scattered liberally throughout the en-tire area are petroglyphs and broken frag-ments of pottery. Wetherill said that inall his studies and travel over the South-west he had never seen any other placewhere there was so much broken potterylying on the surface of the ground.A half dozen wooden beams in a goodstate of preservation have been taken outand will be sent to Prof. Douglass at the

University of Arizona for dating throughmatching of the rings. Remains of someof the dwellings from which these beamswere salvaged are in locations exception-ally well adapted to defense against ene-mies.Stone steps in the nearly vertical cliffsindicate a people of extraordinary agilityin climbing. Miller has found what he be-lieves to be the "main street" leading from

the top of the mesa to the part of the citywhich was located on the plain at the base.This "street," which he terms the "goldenstaircase," consists now of a row of holesthe size of baseballs leading in a straightline up the smooth rock cliffside.In 1521 the Spanish conquerors ofMexico City, having robbed that city of itsriches, were eager to discover new tribes-men to loot. Rumors reached them tha t farto the no rth w as a region occupied by sevengreat cities with incalculable wealth ingold and precious stones. An old Indiangave details, saying that each of the citieswas larger than the City of Mexico. Hesaid the tools the people used were madeof gold and that their chiefs ate fromgolden dishes brought to them by beautiful

Marcos de Niza, continued on until, ac-cording to his written report, he was ableto view the remarkable city from a moun-tain.Friar Marcos' report to the viceroy wassuch as to stir the greed of the gold-hungrySpaniards. He said:"I followed my way, till I came withinsite of Ceuola (Cibola) which is situateon a plain at the foot of a round hill, andmaketh shew to be a fair city, and is betterseated than any that I have seen in theseparts. . . The people . . . have emeralds andother jewels, although they esteem noneso much as turquoise wherewith theyadorn the walls of the porches of theirhouses, and their apparel and vessels . . .They use vessels of gold and silver, forthey have no other metal . . ."

Confirmation by Marcos of the much-fabled gold was sufficient to set off an-other expedition in 1540, this time led byCoronado. Although accompanied byFriar Marcos, the expedition was believedled aside by its Indian guides to the smallpueblo village of Zuni, where the conquis-tadores were bitterly disappointed by theobvious lack of riches.

24 T HE D E S E R T M A G A Z IN E


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Coronado reported to the viceroy thatthe story of Friar Marcos was false. Theresult was that the friar was greatly dis-credited and never redeemed himself. Theopinion has been pretty generally accept-ed through the intervening generationsthat the friar had written his glowing re-port from his imagination because he knewthe Spaniards were anxious to hear thatsort of thing.Battleship mountain. It was on top ofthis mesa that the ancients had chis-eled three reservoirs out of solid rock.

This may be the site of the SevenCities of Cibola. On the plateau incenter were found three ancient cairnsand many glyphs.there is no doubt that there was once a tre-mendous population in the area and thatthe evidence so far uncovered points to aculture different from any ever before de-scribed in the Southwest.

Failure of Coronado's expedition tofind the golden kingdom caused intensedisappointment and a seeming apathyamong the Spanish conquerors, althoughrumors concerning the cities con

194703 desert magazine 1947 march

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