Our Araby: Palm Springs and the the Garden of the sun

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Other Books by J. Smeaton Chase

CALIFORNIA DESERT TRAILS: with Ap-
pendix of Plants, also Hints on Desert
Travelling. Illustrated.

CALIFORNIA COAST TRAILS: A Horseback
Ride from Mexico to Oregon. Illustrated.

YOSEMITE TRAILS: Camp and Pack-Train
in the Yosemite Region of the Sierra
Nevada. Illustrated.

CONE-BEARING TREES OF THE CALI-
FORNIA MOUNTAINS. TMlustrated.

By J. Smeaton Chase and

Charles Hrancis, Saunders
THE CALIFORNIA PADRES AND THEIR
MISSIONS. Illustrated.

OUR AR A BY

A VISTA IN OUR ARABY: MT. SAN JACINTO IN THE
BACKGROUND

OUR ARABY:

PALM SPRINGS

AND THE

THE GARDEN OF THE SUN
BY

J. SMEATON CHASE

Illustrated from Photographs by the Author:

WITH A DESCRIPTIVE LIST OF DESERT PLANTS, ETC.
AND
HINTS TO DESERT MOTORISTS:
ALSO
A NEW MAP OF THE REGION
BY THE U. S. GEOLOGICAL SURVEY

PRINTED FOR
J. SMEATON CHASE, PALM SPRINGS, CALIFORNIA
BY STAR-NEWS PUBLISHING COMPANY
PASADENA, CALIFORNIA

1920

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PisC4s

Copyright 1920 by J. Smeaton Chase
All Rights Reserved

JEC 28 1920

SlLA605137

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FOREWORD

apply to Southern California the term “Our

Italy.” The territory described in the follow-
ing pages may certainly be better designated Our
Araby; and just as Italy attracts many travellers
while Arabia appeals to few, so of the multitude of
Californians and California tourists, not many,
relatively, are likely to wish to visit the desert: and
this is fortunate, for if too much peopled its charm
would be lost.

leg LATE Charles Dudley Warner used to

This little book is designed to serve three ends:
to invite people of the right kind—not too many—
to a region that is meant for the discerning few; to
help them while here to enjoy it to the full; and to
please them, when they have departed, with recol-
lections of things thought and felt, seen and done,
in a tract of country wholly out of the ordinary.

It is hoped that the United States Geological
Survey map, supplied in the back of the book, will
be found a useful adjunct. Being the only official
map yet issued which is complete of the locality
dealt with, it meets a definite need. The writer has
pleasure in acknowledging the courtesy of the
Survey in granting permission to reproduce it, and
also to reprint from one of their valuable publica-
tions the Hints to Motorists which will be found in
the Appendix. He is under obligations also to

FOREWORD

Professor Joseph Grinnell, of the Museum of Verte-
brate Zoology of the University of California, for
aid in revising the lists of birds and mammals.

GUNTE NTS

I. Patm Sprincs: Its SIruATION AND SurRROUNDINGS 11

1G ts oe Ar Go 7 Wes Pa TAMAR eel USD My a NAACP Rea 7
ETT e REDE UN IDTAN SV yesh ten esas hyp BARC AIS an el hs Welen) ey
TIVES OAUMITISEEMIBIN IES W iui (/eeti Dicey Fenny ca ap aun NY) CSE a] cn ne ey

V. Trips TO THE CANONS AND OTHER NoTaBLe Points 39

Vie ED OR AG AND BUAIINA E10) TE jae a Dis SiN 2D Tare sea
VII. NorviceaBLe PLANTS OF THE DESERT _ -— — — 96
AVANT e CTIA TES AUN! DATE: THR alec eer eect eR EN BiG Ty

IX. AccOMMODATION AND CONVENIENCES

ANDUELOWATO! COMEM WAN ye intes ded 1S an Rta
APPENDIX: Hints TO Motorists ~ —~ ~ — - 82
Re US PRA ONS
A Vista IN Our ArasBy: Mr. San JAcINTO
IN DEE ACKGROUND ii pai ien an norubus pleceu ne
A Patm-Lovep Poot IN THE GARDEN OF THE SuN _ 14%
PALME SPRINGS INDIANS VAT, ELOME)) 2. is) aN en hee
SER PP ATIMS: ORM OURACATUABY whiten than ele eRe ti tid heed (ee
DADETE VEO ONDIGH TY SONAT AMI eM ienpe ee yl het dae Merle aN se
From a painting by Mr. Carl Eytel, Palm Springs
At Two-Buncu Pats: Mr. San Gorconro
EN ELE DISTANCE c25) neem n MOA y NNN a ash hy 21) hea Re PO UN) a
THE BiznaGa, A STRANGE INHABITANT OF THE
CARDENWOF | THE (SUN A Meay Meant eh Cn Win Coen Aten
AE OCOTMELOWAND! PATO! VERDE) 2 )eeunes ie tale uniee n GO) ee

AW SHADY LANE WAT) PALM SPRINGS) (Wubi to ied) oe Alea

aa |

SAN MAT) 8

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Oy WR WA ROA

I. PALM SPRINGS: ITS SITUATION
AND SURROUNDINGS

conspicuous, like another Shasta, at the

southern end of the great Sierra which
forms the backbone of California. To south and
west the great mountain faces a land diversified
with hill and valley, farm and cattle-range, stretch-
ing to the Mexican line and the Pacific: to north
and east it looks steeply down upon a strange sun-
blanched land, the pale, mysterious desert. From
its topmost crags, garnished with storm-wrenched
pines, to the gray levels where palm-fronds quiver
under torrid blasts of sun there is a fall of over two
miles of altitude within an air-line distance but
three miles greater; from which it may be gathered
(as is indeed the fact) that this desert face of San
Jacinto offers to the view a mountain wall unparal-
leled for its conjunction of height and verticality
—in effect, a vast precipice of ten thousand feet.

Mi OUNT SAN JACINTO stands isolated and

Right at the mountain’s eastern foot, where the
red rock-slabs rise sharply from the gray desert
floor, lies the village of Palm Springs. Geographi-
cally it is a village unique. One might well call it
the child of the mountain, for it lives in the moun-

12 Our ARABY

tain’s protection and is nourished out of its veins.
Two streams of purest water here break from San
Jacinto’s rocky heart, and make possible this Garden
of the Sun, an oasis of pleasant life where Nature
had said no life should be except the hard, wild life
of her desert children—the plants and animals and
Indians of a land of drought.

The village lies at an elevation of 452 feet above
sea-level, well toward the foot of the long gradient
which runs, smooth as a waterline for league on
league, from the summit of San Gorgonio Pass—
the gateway and dividing point between California
Green and California Gray—down to the great
depression where dreams the Salton, that pale,
weird Lake-below-the-Sea which came into being
(whether for the tenth or hundredth time, who
knows?) some fifteen years or so ago when the
Colorado River took a fancy to stretch his watery
limbs wider in the sun. Bounding this gradient on
the north and east runs the level wall of the east-
ward extension of San Jacinto’s twin mountain, San
Bernardino, beyond which wall there is a twin
desert, the Mojave. The low narrow scoop, six to
ten miles wide, which lies between mountain and
mountain, forming a westerly arm of the Colorado
Desert, was marked on old maps as the Cahuilla
(Ka-we'-ah) Valley, but is now known as the
Coachella—a meaningless substitution—and has of
late years become famous as a sort of Little Arabia,
the source of the earliest of figs, grapes, melons,
and asparagus, and especially of those latest and

-

PALM SPRINGS 13

best of horticultural novelties, American-grown
dates—whoever has not tried them should lose no
time. In its snug elbow at the head of this valley
lies our little oasis. I named it unique, and make
no apologies for the word.

Walled up thus and all but overhung on the west
by the mountain, what kind of landscape is it that
spreads north, east, and south from Palm Springs?
Strangely, it is one that fascinates by reason of its
apparent lack of interest. Looked at in the large,
one might even call it dreary, this gray level, tree-
less and waterless, dotted over with small shrubs
and herbage so monotonously alike as to seem
machine-made: a wholesale kind of land, all of a
piece for leagues at a stretch. Yet this is the land
which, if not at first view yet on very short acquaint-
ance, lays hold of you with a charm so deep and
strong that it has passed into a catch-phrase—the
lure of the desert. Explain it how you may (or
give it up for unexplainable, as most people do,)
there it undoubtedly is, and none but the most
unresponsive of mankind can escape or deny it.
Unless you are one of those it will surely “get
you,” given the chance, and you will find yourself,
without knowing how or why, a Companion of the
Most Ancient Order of Lovers of the Desert, an
Order which far outranks Masonry in age, and
might claim Ishmael or Esau, possibly even Nim-
rod, for its founder.

But I was going to describe a few main features
of Palm Springs’ outlook, One’s attention is at once

14 Our ARABY

attracted to two great hills of sand which rise in
smooth, dome-like contour a few miles straight
ahead, that is, to the east. The larger is, I should
guess, five hundred feet or so high, the smaller
much less, and both probably represent outlying
rocky foothills which, forming obstructions in the
path of the wind that blows down the Pass, have in
course of ages become submerged under the slow,
all-obliterating tide of wind-driven sand. There is
something queerly fascinating about these dunes.
It may be partly the tricks of light and shade, the
chameleon-like play of color which they exhibit;
but there is some subtler quality, too. Perhaps
there is aroused by the sight of that heap of sand-
atoms a geological instinct akin to the sense of
infinitude which is raised by the inconceivable
figures of astronomy; or perhaps one’s sense of
curiosity is touched, and subconsciously one won-
ders what may be hidden under that blanket of sand
that defies the eye with its suave, unrevealing out-
line. However it be, there is something about the
great dunes that stamps them strongly on the mind.

Turning to the south the view takes in a sort of
bay or backwater—barring the water—of mountain-
enclosed desert which may be considered as Palm
Springs’ private back-yard. Into it open the four
cafions which are Palm Springs’ pride, viz: Tah-
quitz, Andreas, Murray, and Palm, the last three
being the scenic cream of Our Araby, and notable
especially for their remarkable display of the
native California palm. It is this tract which it is

A PALM-LOVED POOL IN THE GARDEN OF THE SUN

PALM SPRINGS 15

now proposed to set aside as a National Park, and
a striking addition it will be to the splendid list of
American Wonderlands. This bay, or pocket,
enclosed on three sides by mountains, forms, as it
were, a neat little compendium or miniature of the
greater desert, while Santa Rosa’s fine bulk, over-
looking it in the background, gives it even an extra
touch of pictorial completeness. And when, in
winter and spring, the snowy maltese cross shines
on the mountain’s forehead, we of Palm Springs
may be excused for indulging the fancy that our
particular bit of desert is distinguished and in a
way hallowed by the sacred emblem.

So wholly distinctive is the locality I speak of
that an effort is needed to realize that so slight a
distance separates it from the familiar landscapes
of the coast regions. As a matter of fact, the differ-
ence between the desert and coast regions takes
effect almost instantaneously, so to speak, at the
summit of the San Gorgonio Pass. Thus it occurs
that from Palm Springs, well out on the desert, to
Riverside and Redlands, the center of California’s
finest cultivation, is but a matter of fifty-five miles,
while Pasadena and Los Angeles are but fifty miles
farther away, with the Pacific only a. trifle more.
This operates not only to make the journey from
one to the other perfectly easy but also to render
the change spectacular and interesting in a high
degree. To breakfast late at the beach, or “in
town,” to lunch leisurely at the Mission Inn at
Riverside (which is strictly the comme il faut thing

16 Our ARABY

to do) and lounge for an hour afterwards among
the famed groves and avenues of the citrus belt,
and then by mid-afternoon to be arriving at our
little oasis in time for a cup of tea and a desert
sunset—this ought to be easy enough and spec-
tacular enough for even the sophisticated tourist of
the nineteen-twenties.

IJ. THE VILLAGE

ILLAGE is a pretty word, though ambitious
settlements are keen to disclaim the implied
rusticity and to graduate into the rank of

town or city. Palm Springs has no such aims, and
is well content to remain far down the list in census
returns. We decline to take part in the race for
Improvements, and are (so we feel, anyway) wise
enough to know when we are well off. Rural Free
Delivery does not entice us: we prefer the daily
gathering at the store at mail-time, Indians and
whites together, where we can count on catching
Miguel or Romualda if we wish to hire a pony or
get the washing done. Electric lights? No, thanks:
somehow nothing seems to us so homelike for the
dinner-table as shaded candles, or for fireside read-
ing a good kerosene lamp: while if we want to call
on a neighbor after dark, we find that a lantern
sheds light where you need it instead of illuminat-
ing mainly the upper air. To us cement sidewalks
would be a calamity: we may be dusty, but dust is
natural and we prefer it. After all, the pepper- or
cottonwood-shaded streets of our Garden of the Sun
are really only country lanes, and who wants a
country lane cemented? In fact, a little mistake
was made when they were named. Cottonwood Row
would have been better than Indian Avenue, and

18 Our ARABY

Hot Springs Lane than the commonplace Spring
Street.

The Hot Spring is the outstanding natural feature
of our village, though not so natural as when one
took one’s bath in the rickety cabin which antedated
the present solid little bath-house. However, the
Spring itself is as natural, no doubt, as any time
this five or ten thousand years: and you may get as
weird a sensation in taking your bath, and as
healthful a result afterwards, as bygone generations
of Cahuillas have enjoyed. The water, which is just
comfortably hot and contains mineral elements
which render it remarkably curative, comes up
mingled with quantities of very fine sand. You may
bask in the clear water on the surface of the pool,
or, if you want all the fun you can get for your
money, you may lower yourself into the very mouth
of the spring where the mixture comes gurgling up.
This will yield you (especially at night and by
candle-light) a novel and somewhat shuddery
experience, though one absolutely without risk; and
you will come forth with a sense of fitness and fine-
ness all over to which only a patent medicine adver-
tisement writer of high attainments could possibly
do justice.

Our village is bisected by the Reservation line,
which thus makes a geographical division of the
population. Only geographical, though, for, fortu-
nately, there has never been anything but complete
harmony between whites and Indians. Something
more will be said about the Indians later: here I

THE VILLAGE 19

will only remark that I, for one, could not wish
for better neighbors than our Indians: I should be
pleased, indeed, to feel sure that they could say as
much for us. They are but few in number, forty
or fifty, for the Cahuillas are scattered in small
rancherias over a wide territory. The white popula-
tion is variable. In winter and spring, when the
“Standing Room Only” sign hangs out, there may
be a total of two hundred or more residents and
visitors (the latter much the more numerous:) in
the hot months residents may number a dozen or
two and visitors there are none. In desert phrase,
the whites have “gone inside” (i. e., to the coast),
an odd turn of speech but one quite appropriate
to the point of view of the man of Big Spaces—
“inside” where one is shut in and boxed up. You
will understand when you have lived a little while
in Our Araby.

For so small a place, the number of people who
have fallen under the charm of Palm Springs, and
their variety of class and kind, are rather surprising.
You would agree as to the latter point if I were to
begin to mention names. Wealth and fashion, as
such, are not much attracted to our village: Palm
Beach, not Palm Springs, is their mark: but among
the fraternity of brains the word has passed about,
and persons of mark are ever finding their way
here, returning again and again, and bringing or
sending others. But then, the importance of persons
of mark in any community is apt to be over-
estimated; the important thing is the general

20 Our ARABY

quality, the average. The average with us is auto-
matically raised by the total absence of any
hooligan element, such as is sometimes in evidence
on the sands of the sea-shore. To that class the
sands of Our Araby do not appeal. On the other
hand, the scientists, writers, painters, musicians,—
in fact, all kinds of people who love quiet, thought-
ful things and whose work or enjoyment lies in
natural instead of artificial fields, come and share
with us the wholesome pleasures and interests that
are inherent in a clean, new, unspoiled bit of this
wonderful old world.

So much for the people. The village itself is a
place of two or three score of unpretentious cottages
scattered along half a dozen palm- and pepper-
shaded streets. We don’t run much to lawns and
formal gardens: we live in the desert because we
like it, hence we don’t care to shut ourselves away
in little citified enclosures. But the two or three
old places which formed the nucleus of the settle-
ment are bowers of bloom and umbrageous green-
ery. Gray old fig-trees lean out over the sidewalk,
while oranges, dates, grape-fruit, lemons, and trees
of other sorts for fruit or ornament flourish in
tribute to the memory of that wise old Scotsman and
pioneer, Doctor Welwood Murray, who had the
courage to plant and the patience to rear them in
the teeth of horticultural disabilities.

There remain to be mentioned our stores, inns,
school, and church. Of these it is enough to say
that they are well up to what would be expected in

THE VILLAGE 2]

a community such as ours: though one of the inns
might fairly object that this statement comes short
of doing it justice. There are, further, a minute
Public Library, housed in a quaint little hutch of
adobe, which, half a century ago, was the Stage
Station, and a tasteful Rest-house raised as a me-
morial to the old Scottish doctor, named above, who
may fairly be termed the patriarch, well nigh the
founder, of our village.

Ill. THE INDIANS

O SAY that the Indians make a main point
iy in the interest of life in our village sounds

patronizing, as though the whites were the
natural residents and the Indians merely an inci-
dental feature. Of course the reverse is the fact:
we are the new-comers: whether “interesting” is the
term they would apply to us, or some other, is open
to speculation. However, the point is that they are
an integral part of the charm of life in Our Araby.
Their ways of life and points of view differ from
ours enough to give them the attraction of novelty,
while their independence and good nature render
them congenial as friends and neighbors.

This small band of Indians, a part of the widely-
scattered Cahuilla tribe, have lived from time
immemorial about the hot spring which gives the
Indian village, or rancheria, the Spanish name of
Agua Caliente, by which the Reservation is still
officially known. (There are other places of this
name in California, one being the village, formerly
a rancheria of this same tribe, now generally called
Warner’s Springs, in San Diego County.) They
have long been Christianized, and are numbered
among the so-called Mission Indians of California,
being cared for, in religious matters, by the Roman
Catholic priest stationed at Banning, while admin-
istratively they are under the charge of a Govern-

ANOH LV SNVIGNI SONTYdS WI1Vd

THE INDIANS 23

ment Agent, whose headquarters are at the town of
San Jacinto, on the other side of the mountain.

The reproach of laziness, commonly levelled
against Indians, cannot fairly be laid against the
Indians of Palm Springs. The men either farm
their own little holdings, or work for their white
neighbors, or “hire out” on Coachella or Imperial
ranches, or, at fruit-picking time, in the prune or
almond orchards of the mountains. Some of them
are well-to-do, with cattle or alfalfa to sell and
horses to rent; besides which they have their patri-
mony of monumental old fig-trees, scions of the
famous Black Mission figs of San Gabriel (and you
may have noticed that Palm Springs early figs do
not go begging in Los Angeles markets.) Old
Marcos is even the proud owner of a few of those
original epoch-making date-palms which have
opened a new chapter in American horticulture, and
his Deglet Nurs have been adjudged by the knowing
ones to be second to none.

Of the women, some find time from their own
employments to do laundry or other household
work in the village, while, fortunately, one or two
still practise the old arts and are notable weavers
of baskets: a basket by Dolores, wife of Francisco
Patencio, who lives down by the fiesta house, may
well be counted a prize. The making of pottery,
sad to say, has ceased: the white man’s cheap tin-
ware has driven the artistic but fragile olla from
the field. But about the sites of vanished Indian
homes you will find the ground strewn with frag-

24 Our ARABY

ments, and persons with a nose for relics now and
then make interesting finds of pottery or basket-
ware that was cached by long-dead hands in cran-
nies of the rocks. Relic-hunters will find interest
also in the picture-writings which adorn the walls
of near-by caves, and in mortar-holes deeply sunk
in granite boulders, mute witnesses to the back-
breaking labors of departed generations of squaws.

An experience decidedly worth while is yielded
by the fiesta which is held in mid-winter of most
years. It is a celebration of remembrance for the
dead, and consists in dancing, in the chanting of
traditional songs of the tribe, in feasting, and in,
finally, the burning of effigies of those who have
passed away since the previous occasion. The
flicker - lighted gloom of the fiesta -house, the
rhythmic manoeuvrings, and the unearthly ulula-
tions that accompany them make a total sufficiently
weird, even without such an adjunct as the eating
of glowing coals from the fire by the medicine-man,
a star performer from a neighboring rancheria.
However, all this (which may well seem barbaric
to the reader) must be understood as merely a
belated survival from the dim old days, not by any
means an indication of the ordinary manner of life
of our thoroughly good friends and fellow-villagers,
the Indians of Palm Springs.

IV. AMUSEMENTS

QUESTION that arises in many persons’

minds when one speaks of the desert as a

place of any attractiveness is—But what can
there be to do there? It is a natural question, too,
for to most people the desert signifies only a region
of dreariness and horror, a mere waste spot marring
the earth’s wholesome fertility and beauty. That,
however, is a total mistake, one of those conven-
tional delusions that are based only on generations
of popular misconception. Only one or two
hundred years ago the forests and mountains in
which we now delight were thought places of dread
and ugliness. People simply hadn’t caught the idea;
and today, as regards the desert, a few people are
just beginning to catch it. Essentially, the desert is
Nature in her simplest expression. Has it come to
this—that Nature must be spiced up with amuse-
ments before we can take pleasure in her? Surely
space, quietude, and freedom are fine things:
solitude can be magnificent: loneliness need not
scare us as if we were lost kittens.

However, as it happens, there are plenty of ways
of amusing oneself actively on the desert. The most
popular at Palm Springs, undoubtedly, is horseback
riding, with or without the adjunct of a picnic. Our
Araby is ideal for this sort of thing. The “ ‘ard
igh road” is all right for the automobile, which

26 Our ARABY

indeed has fairly claimed it for its own; but the
glory of horseback is the cross-country feature, and
here you have it unalloyed. The free fenceless
desert stretches before you to the horizon, and
wherever you guide your horse, something new,
strange, or wonderful calls constantly for notice—
new plants and animals, new colors, new shapes,
(perhaps also new thoughts.) Thus, there are few
Palm Springs mornings that you will not see some
gay party cantering off on the wise Indian ponies
bound for Palm Canon, or Andreas, or the dunes;
or, maybe, starting more leisurely with saddle-bags
and blanket-rolls on the longer trip down to the
Salton Sea, or into the Morongos, or up the Vande-
venter trail to Pinon Flat, or by the Gordon trail
to Idyllwild in the pines.

To those who are wedded to their ease and their
autos plenty of inviting resources are open. Good
or practicable roads have been built to several of
the near-by cafons—notably to Palm Cafion, the
favorite—and the main stage-road across the desert
runs through Palm Springs, by which you may go
down the valley as far as you like—or on to New
York, for that matter. All the valley towns are on
that road—Indio, Coachella, Thermal, Mecca—and
from it one has access to all other roads and may
explore whither and what he will—date-gardens,
fig-groves, the haunts of the earliest grapes, melons,
and asparagus: or may run down beside the Salton
Sea to Imperial Valley, the land of cotton, and “the

AMUSEMENTS 27

line,” beyond which lies the land of revolutions,
distressful Mexico.

The time has come, too, when flying must be
counted in when one thinks of ways and means of
amusement or of getting about. There is not, of
course, much to be said yet on this score, but it
may be remarked that Our Araby is not lagging
behind the rest of the world, and already is critical
of the pilot who fails to bring his “bus” neatly to
earth regardless of cactus and creosote brush. Cer-
tainly it would seem that the spacious, level desert
is the very model of a natural airdrome, and I look
to see aeronauts, professional and amateur, taking
Nature’s hint and exploiting these advantages. A
project is under way for forming the piece of
country comprising Palm Canon and the picturesque
localities adjacent thereto into a National Park. I
hazard the guess that when this is done provision
will be made for air-travel to and about the tract.
The American tourist expects to have Nature served
up in up-to-date fashion, and Uncle Sam may be
trusted to comply.

Under the next heading I outline some of the
favorite trips, and the map, it is hoped, will be of
use in planning and executing them and suggesting
others. There is, so far, a glorious lack of “No
Trespassing” signs in Our Araby: our cafions and
palm-groves are not yet roped off and adorned with
brusque notifications to “Keep Out”; but this state
of things cannot be guaranteed to last forever. It

28 Our ARABY

js the age of barbed wire, and even the desert cannot
hope to escape it.

Coming now to the more specific forms of amuse-
ment, we have, for those who must be up to date,
“the movies”: not the commonplace side of the
great modern pastime, the sitting in a “palace” and
watching the reeling off of pictures on a screen,
but the more exciting first-hand experience of seeing
them made, the thrill of the real thing, flesh and
blood (with paint and powder thrown in.) In the
last few years Palm Springs has become head-
quarters, so to speak, for Algeria, Egypt, Arabia,
Palestine, India, Mexico, a good deal of Turkey,
Australia, South America, and sundry other parts
of the globe. Wondrous are the sights and sounds
the dwellers in Palm Springs are privileged to see
and hear when “the movies are in town”: wondrous
the “stars” that then shine in broad daylight on us;
wondrous the cowboys, cavalcades, and caballeros,
the tragedies, the feats of daring, the rescues and
escapes, for which our dunes and cafions provide
the setting. The quiet village becomes in fact a
movie studio for the time, and the visitor whose
ideal is “Something doing every minute” has then
little reason to pine away with ennut.

Moving pictures remind one of the other and, as
a rule, less spectacular kind. Our Araby, with its
marvelous display of tone and color—tone the
most elusive, color the most unearthly and ethereal
—is a land of enchantment to the painter, and its
fame has spread from one to another until, now,

AMUSEMENTS 29

every winter and spring sees painters of note
studying these desert landscapes, so fascinatingly
different in their problems of conception and
handling from anything that commonly comes in
the artist’s way. It looks more than likely that by
ten or fifteen years from now a school of painters
will have made Our Araby their province, just as
now there are the Marblehead and Gloucester men
in the East and the Newlyn men in England. A
forerunner of the group I forecast has already been
working for many years with Palm Springs for his
headquarters, Mr. Carl Eytel, whose knowledge of
his field has been earned, as it were, inch by inch
and grain by grain, and whose conscientious work
gives a truer rendering of the desert than do sen-
sational canvases of the popular Wild West sort.
The person must be very insensible to natural
interests whose curiosity is not aroused by the
markedly distinctive vegetable life which the desert
offers to the view. From the moment that your
train or auto begins to run down-grade on leaving
Banning the fact is plain that you are, botanically
speaking, in a new world. Gray, the livery of the
desert, largely takes the place of green; stunted
forms and bizarre shapes notify you that wholly
different conditions here reign. Though you may
have no leanings toward botany as a science or a
hobby you will hardly fail to be interested by the
novel objects that surround you, and are likely to
find yourself botanizing mildly before you know it,
if only to the extent of learning the name of the

30 Our ARABY

cactus that scratched you, or whether it was a
mesquit or a catclaw that tore your clothes. The
cacti alone are “worth the money”: the biznaga, for
instance, on close acquaintance is a most engaging
fellow, and seriously, no one should go through life
without interviewing a cholla. A tree that is as
green as grass, yet has no leaves, is worth one’s
notice: so is one that is total gray and pricklier
than an armful of hedgehogs, and another that
bears for fruit a neat imitation of a handful of
screws.

But it is when the Great Spring Flower Show
comes on, especially if the rains have come just
right, that our Garden of the Sun shows what it is
capable of botanically. In January one or two
early-waking plants, such as crimson beloperone
and yellow bladder-pod, modestly start the show.
February brings the wild heliotrope and the first
hint of the glory of the verbenas, with clouds of
wild plum in the cafions. March is a steady
crescendo of color, and by mid-April the riot is on
and Flora is emptying her lap over the desert in
cascades of multi-hued bloom. On the levels, pools
of rosy-purple verbenas spread out and run
together into lakes; the mountain slopes, built of
slabs of uncompromising rock, by some magic con-
trive to send out myriads of golden blossoms of the
incense-bush; the canons turn into mazes and
tangles of flowering rarities that go to the head of
the most experienced botanist. Now is the time to
notice how admirable even a cactus can be when

_—

THE PALMS OF OUR ARABY

AMUSEMENTS Sih

Spring gets into its blood; you will hardly match
those silky cups of purple or cerise in greenhouses
of millionaires. The ocotillo, too—where will you
find anything floral that is finer in its way than that
flaming scarlet tongue? It is the desert’s own fierce
flower, not on any account to be missed, and well
worth the ride down to Deep Cajon, even if the
ride showed you nothing else worth your notice,
which would be strange indeed.*

There is plenty of interesting matter here, too,
for those to whom animal life appeals. For bird
study, especially, this locality offers exceptional
facilities, for the San Gorgonio Pass is the great
migration highway for a large region, and the Palm
Springs oasis, lying at the foot of the pass, forms a
natural stopping-place for the small travelers. It is
for this reason a favorite station for bird-men, as it
is for naturalists in general. Beetle-men and
butterfly-men, mouse-and-gopher-men, and devotees
of all sorts of zoological ramifications with alarm-
ing names spend rapturous days in Our Araby,
collecting, studying, and classifying, with ever in
view the thrilling chance of coming upon something
new—a kangaroo-rat with tail measurement three
millimeters greater than any yet recorded in the
halls of science, or some phenomenal development
of the maxillary arch in a short-nosed pocket-mouse.
Such triumphs have in the past shed lustre upon

*Under the heading of Flora and Fauna will be found a
list of all the desert plants likely to be observed, with
brief descriptions which will aid in identifying them.

32 Our ARABY

zoologically-minded visitors to Palm Springs, which
already has a gopher and a ground-squirrel “named
for it”:—why not again?

Suspicious people, noticing that I have said
nothing as to reptiles, may ask “What about the
snakes?” Here comes in another popular miscon-
ception, the idea that the desert swarms with rattle-
snakes, sidewinders, and Gila monsters. The fact
is that rattlesnakes are certainly no more numerous
on the desert than in the coast or mountain regions:
I think on the whole they are fewer here. As for
the sidewinder (which is simply the desert’s special
form of rattlesnake), in several years’ experience I
have seen but two, one of which was dead when
found, while the other was hailed with rejoicing
and carried home tenderly in a tomato-can (being
needed for photographic purposes) , having been an
object of daily search for two or three months.
The Gila monster, rare at best, is never seen in or
near this part of the desert. Ordinary lizards we
have in plenty, but they, of course, are wholly
harmless, even friendly and amusing. The chuck-
walla, with his alligator look, may not be charming,
but need cause no alarm to anything bigger than a
house-fly.

But this is aside from the matter of the amuse-
ments Our Araby offers her visitors. A few words
as to sporting possibilities will not come amiss to
lovers of rod and gun. Fishing will hardly be
looked for on the desert: indeed, the mention of
the rod may seem like rather a futile joke. Not

AMUSEMENTS 33

quite so, however: for ten miles from Palm Springs
is Snow Creek, which comes down from San Jacinto
Mountain (debouching about opposite Whitewater
Station) and offers fair trout-fishing, as does also
the stream in Whitewater Cafion, a few miles away
across the valley from Snow Creek. This, I must
confess, exhausts the fishing possibilities of Our
Araby, unless one is minded to try what can be
done with the Salton Sea, where some kinds of
coarse fish, principally mullet, are plentiful and
seem to give good sport for the gulls and pelicans.

There is more to be said for the gun, however.*
Quail are numerous, and give excellent shooting
when in season. On the open sandy levels the desert
or Gambel quail in good coveys will be found in
the vicinity of mesquit thickets: in the canons the
valley species exists in fair numbers: while at
higher altitudes the mountain quail appears. Doves
may be had anywhere near water by gunners who
care to shoot those trustful creatures. A few snipe
and duck can be found if one knows where to look
for them, but, naturally, such spots are few and
far between in Our Araby. The duck-hunter who
cares to go so far as to the Salton Sea, however,
may expect good sport.

*It should be noted that shooting on Indian Reservation
land, except by Indians, is strictly prohibited by law.
There is a good deal of such land in the neighborhood
of Palm Springs besides that upon which the Indian
village is situated. Hunters should inform themselves
as to the boundaries of Indian land.

34 Our ARABY

Rabbits—jack and cottontail—are a matter of
course, though not so much so as in days gone by.
Nowadays one may tramp a whole morning in the
Palm Springs locality and hardly empty a barrel.
Whither the bunnies have gone is rather a mystery.
Yet I do know the spot I should make for should
an urgent demand for cottontail-stew arise suddenly
within me. No, I shall not name the place: that
is a little secret between the coyotes and me.

Coyotes and foxes, by-the-by, as also wildcats
and mountain-lions, should perhaps be mentioned,
but the first-named two are hardly game, while the
others are only possibilities of cafon camps. Deer,
however, are more than a possibility in some desert
localities, though not, of course, on the low open
levels. Pinon Flat, reached by the Vandeventer
trail, and a good day’s trip from Palm Springs, is
quite good deer country, and, incidentally, an
interesting bit of territory to explore, with or with-
out gun or rifle.

Two other animals that come in the “big game”
category may be named, though one of these, the
antelope, has passed into history so far as Our
Araby is concerned. A few antelope may linger on
the stretches of almost untraveled country bordering
on the Mexican line, but the chances are slight of
this fine creature being ever again reported from
the Colorado Desert. The other animal is the
mountain-sheep (bighorn) which ranges in all the
desert hills and canons, but is not to be counted for
shooting purposes, being strictly protected by law,

AMUSEMENTS 35

with no open season. I said strictly, but must add
—O that it were strictly! for it is but too certain
that since the appearance of the automobile (the
worst foe of wild game everywhere) on the desert,
the sheep have fallen victims to illicit shooting to
a terrible extent. Parties of “sports”—the fellows
who bear the same relation to sportsmen that
“sents” do to gentlemen—lolling at ease in high-
powered cars, now invade every part of the desert
where a road leads to some remote mine or pros-
pect, and blaze away at anything that moves, in
mere intoxication of blood-lust: with result of
many a wounded animal, ram or ewe just as it
happens, dragging itself into some haunt inacces-
sible to man, there to lingeringly perish:—the
“sport” making the most of his contemptible feat
by jubilant assertions of “Anyway, I know I hit
him—saw him fall.”

Beyond the active amusements, so to speak, which
I have named, there are some immaterial pleasures
to be enjoyed in Our Araby which, | venture to
think, remain long in the memory of those who
come here. It may sound commonplace to talk of
sunset colorings and sunrise panoramas, but any-
one who has watched the sunset light on the
Morongos from the rocky point that overlooks our
village will allow that it is a revelation of Nature
in her mood of tenderest loveliness. Nowhere as
on the desert will you experience what I may best
call the spirituality of color, beauty in sunset hues
so extreme that it affects one with a sense of pathos,

36 Our ARABY

even of solemnity, like the innocent blue of child-
hood’s eyes. Heavenly is a well-worn term, but
here it comes to one’s lips instinctively: such per-
fection in color seems not of earthly kind.

The sky of the desert is well worth studying at
other times than the sunset hour—for instance, at
the moment when the sun comes striding up in
inexpressible magnificence of power. Over this
Garden of the Sun he rises morning after morning
in such splendor as you will never see but in
the desert, for here no mists or earthly exhalations
dim the flashing glory of his first horizontal beams.
It is then that one grasps the true meaning of that
everyday word, the sun, and realizes him at last
for what he is—a Flame, inconceivably vast, in-
effably pure, unutterably terrible.

For those who delight in cloud-form and sky-
scenery, no area of sky that I know approaches in
interest that which stretches from the southern
extension of San Jacinto Mountain eastward to
Santa Rosa Peak. In the rainy season this tract of
air forms the very frontier of the opposing meteoro-
logical forces, where day after day one may watch
the battle between Rain and Drought fought in
fashion more spectacular than one sees it elsewhere.
Some particular interplay of air-currents, combined
with and perhaps arising from the configuration of
the land below, give rise to a remarkable diversity
of cloud conditions. Above Santa Rosa there will
hang for days a vast banner of vapor like the plume
that curls from the lip of a volcano, while in the

AMUSEMENTS a

upper air beyond and above it, cirrus, stratus, and
cumulus merge and evolve in ceaseless manoeuvres.
I know of no other such “cloud-compelling peak”
as this, on which another admirer and I have ven-
tured to confer the title or degree of Santa Rosa de
las Nubes (Santa Rosa of the Clouds.)

Other aerial phenomena occur in these desert
skies, some of them so unusual that one may suspect
one’s eyes of playing tricks: as, for instance, I did,
one evening when riding from Andreas Canon soon
after sunset. The western sky was hidden from me
by the high wall of mountain on my left; but sud-
denly I saw on my right—that is to say, in the East
—the well-known effect of radiating beams of light,
frequently seen when the sun is at or near the
horizon. I reined up and stared: yes, there it was,
plain, even vivid. What was up? Had West become
East, and East, West? Or couldn’t I tell one from
the other? These were alarming thoughts, but soon
I realized that the desert was up to one of its tricks:
what I saw was the sunset reflected by the eastern
sky.
And then there is the night. It may seem odd to
speak of sleep under the head of Amusements, but
such sleep as one gets on the desert fairly ranks as
enjoyment, so it is much the same. Few people
know what night at its best can be. The desert is
the place to learn it. Calmness, quietude, restful-
ness, as a rule very relative terms, here approach
the absolute. We speak of balmy sleep, and some-
times think we get it in a bed under a ceiling; but

90

38 Our ARABY

that is a mistake. Speaking for myself, the finest
sleep I ever enjoyed was when for a month or so
I spread my blankets on the bank of the Tahquitz
ditch. With two or three inches-of dry brush for
mattress, the air cool, still, and sweet with fifty
herby essences, the moon and stars stealing by on
tiptoe so as not to wake me, and Tahquitz telling
strange old bits of earth-lore under its breath within
a foot or so of my ear—that was sleep as sleep was
meant to be. And then to wake up to a desert sun-
rise! You positively should try it.

“THE MOONLIGHT SONATA”
from a painting by Mr. Cari Eytel, Palm Springs

V. TRIPS TO THE CANONS AND OTHER
NOTABLE POINTS

T IS NOT possible in this small book to describe
in detail the many points of special beauty or
interest which lie within the range of Palm

Springs. Here, however, are given brief notes
regarding the spots most worth visiting, such as will
serve to outline their particular features and to
explain how they may be reached. In the latter
connection, attention is directed to the map which
will be found inside the back cover.

For convenience I take them in alphabetical
order.

Andreas Cafion is four or five miles south of
Palm Springs, on the way and a little to the west
of the road to Palm Cafton. A fair automobile
road goes right to the cafon-mouth. There are fine
cliffs of the palisade sort, some caves with Indian
relics, and many palms, one group of which is
remarkable. There is a stream of pure mountain
water, and some lovely cafion scenery. A divergence
may be made on the return trip by taking a trail
on the north side of the cafion, which leads up to
the Gordon trail and gives a splendid view of the
palisade cliffs and the desert: then descending the
Gordon trail, which connects with the regular Palm
Cafion road. (See Gordon Trail trip.)

AO Our ARABY

Cathedral Cafion is about seven miles southeast
of Palm Springs, opening to the west of the main
road down the valley. There is a fair automobile
road into the cafion, but to reach the narrows a
rough walk of two miles further is required, which
by most people would not be thought worth while.
There are a few palms and sometimes a little water.

Chino Cafion is the wide-mouthed canon which
opens to the west of the main road a mile or two
north of Palm Springs. No practicable road runs
into the canon, but a trail (formerly a wagon-
road) may be picked out, roughly following the
pipe-line. In the neck of the canon there is a
ciénaga (marshy meadow) and a fine grove of
cottonwoods: also a group of palms beneath which
is a warm spring which makes a luxurious natural
bathing-place: adjacent is a stream of cold moun-
tain water. Near the point where the canon narrows
to a gorge there is a cave that is worth visiting;
and continuing one comes to a cliff of about 5000
feet sheer. Fine views of the desert are obtainable.
If the return trip be made by moonlight a weird
effect may be observed, produced by the reflected
light from the mountains on either side. Time
needed, two or three hours each way, as the trail is
rough.

The “Coral Reef.” This is of course no coral
reef nor is it anything like one. It is simply a part
of the mountain wall on the southwest side of the
Coachella Valley, some twenty-five miles from Palm

Trips TO THE CANONS Al

Springs and about six miles southwest of the town
of Coachella (the same from Indio.) The old
Indian road to Toro and Martinez passes near the
“reef.” The land is here below sea-level, and the
water-line of the ancient sea is plainly marked on
the foot of the mountain. The “coral” is a deposit
of calcium carbonate left by the water. The like-
ness to coral is not really close. There are ranches
in the neighborhood.

Deep Cafion is a main canon of Santa Rosa
Mountain, reached by following the main road
down the valley for thirteen miles from Palm
Springs, when a road will be found which runs
some distance into the cafion, though not so far as
the narrows, which are five miles up. Botanists
will find this a good piece of country: there are
some splendid palo verdes, cacti are in fine display,
and ocotillos and agaves are numerous. Beyond the
narrows the cafion is rocky and romantic. The
walls are strikingly high and steep, and a few palms
are scattered along the stream.

The Devil’s Garden. This is a tract of open
desert mesa about eight miles north and slightly
west of Palm Springs and not far from Whitewater,
extending in fact nearly to the edge of Whitewater
Canon. It is a natural cactus garden, where many
species of cacti are associated in what amounts to
a thicket of these odd vegetable forms. A trip to it
makes a pleasant cross-country horseback excur-
sion; or it may be reached by automobile via the

42 Our ARABY

Whitewater Ranch and the Morongo Pass road, say
fifteen miles. (There are two bad sandy stretches
of the road beyond Whitewater.) Time needed,
about three hours horseback or one hour automo-
bile each way.

The Garnet Hills are a ridge of gravelly ground
just to the east of Palm Springs Station, which is
about six miles due north of the village. The old
sandy road to the east of the stage-road (a continua-
tion of Indian Avenue) should be taken. There is
nothing of special note here, but the place offers a
convenient objective for a short horseback trip, as
well as fine views of San Jacinto and San Bernar-
dino Mountains and the open desert. Garnets are
not hard to find, but none of good quality need be
expected. Time needed, about two hours each way.

The Gordon Trail, or P. and P. (Palm and
Pine) Trail, is a direct route to the mountain resort
of Idyllwild on San Jacinto Mountain. It was built
at the expense and through the public spirit of Mr.
M. S. Gordon of Palm Springs. It leaves the Palm
Canon road at a point just beyond the Government
Experiment Station, and climbs by steep but not
excessive grades, reaching about 8000 feet at one
spot. Water will first be found at “Avispas,” 2000
feet (two hours), then at Tahquitz Creek, 6000 feet,
which should be the noon stopping-place. There-
after the trail is through virgin forest (two hours
to the highest point, whence it drops abruptly to
Idyllwild.) Thus the through trip may be made on

Tries TO THE CANONS 43

horseback in one day. Magnificent panoramic
views of the desert and the Salton Sea are obtained,
and in late spring a great display of blossoming
mountain plants—wild lilac, yucca, manzanita, etc.
Time needed, twelve hours, allowing one hour’s rest.

Note—It is unwise to make this trip alone, and a
safe, trail-broke horse, well shod, is necessary.

A pleasant short round-trip may be arranged by
taking the Gordon Trail as far as a point above
Andreas Cafion giving a fine view of the palisade
cliffs and the desert, returning thence by a trail
which branches off to the left (south) and descends
to the canon, whence there is a road to Palm
Springs. (See Andreas Cajon trip.)

Hidden Spring Cajion is a secluded spot in the
foothills of the Orocopia Mountains. This entails a
longish trip, the distance being about fifty miles.
The route is down the valley by the main road as
far as Mecca (thirty-eight miles), thence three
miles east on the Blythe road, then two miles
southeast following the Power-line, then north up
the wash into the cafion (this is a hard pull for
automobiles.) Splendid near outlooks over the
Salton Sea are obtained, and the canon is remark-
able, resembling Painted Cafion in formation and
coloring. It contains a score or so of palms, also
a spring of fair water, to reach which one must
crawl on hands and knees through a narrow pas-
sage-way. Owing to slow travel, this trip can best

4A Our ARABY

be handled as an over-night-camp trip, though a
strenuous one-day will cover it.

REFER to “Salton Sea” and “Painted Canon”
trips, in same general locality.

Magnesia Spring Cafion opens to the southwest
upon the main valley road near Frye’s Well, about
twelve miles from Palm Springs, (being the next
cafion to the northwest of Deep Canon.) It is quite
easy of access, the approach being sandy instead
of bouldery, but automobiles may find difficulty
after leaving the main road (at a point opposite
Frye’s old house.) At the narrows, about two
miles from the mouth, there are fine cliffs; also a
little water, not of the best quality, yet drinkable;
and a rock-bound pool large enough for a minia-
ture swim. In the upper cafion there are a number
of palms. This cafon makes a pleasant objective
for a picnic, or for a one or two days’ camping-
trip.

Mission Creek Cafion is a cafion of San Ber-
nardino Mountain opening northwesterly to the
north of Painted Hill, which is about three miles
north of Whitewater Station. The distance from
Palm Springs is about fifteen miles. The route for
automobiles (twenty miles) is by way of White-
water Ranch and the Morongo Pass road, keeping
to the west at the forks: on horseback one may take
the old sandy road to Palm Springs Station, con-
tinuing north by a road which skirts the Devil’s
Garden (q. v.) The cafion has some remarkable

Trips TO THE CANONS 45

rock colorings and formations, with evidences of
volcanic action. There are two or three ranches
belonging to Indians and whites: also good and
abundant water. Time needed, one day by automo-
bile: one night out by horseback.

The Morongo Trip. I use this term to desig-
nate an excursion, of whatever length one likes, into
the mountains that face one looking across the
desert to the north and east from Palm Springs
(actually a spur of San Bernardino Mountain, but
locally known as the Morongos.) The route for
automobiles is by way of Whitewater Ranch,
branching off thence to the road running northeast
to the Morongo Pass. This leads by way of Warren’s
Ranch (“Chuckwarren’s”), Warren’s Wells, and
Coyote Holes, to the oasis of Twenty-nine Palms, on
the southern edge of the Mojave Desert. A worth-
while loop is made by turning south at the sign-
board (six miles beyond Warren’s Wells) marked
“Keyes Ranch, Quail Springs,” etc.: another sign-
board at the Keyes Ranch will direct you to Twenty-
nine Palms via Gold Park. A great variety of
desert scenery is thus met, including exceedingly
striking rock formations and those botanical curi-
osities, the Joshua trees, as well as fine views of the
great peaks, San Jacinto, San Gorgonio, and Santa
Rosa. The trip may be prolonged from Twenty-
nine Palms into a circuit by way of Dale, Cotton-
wood Springs, Shafer’s Well, and Mecca, near the
north shore of the Salton Sea, but inquiries should
be made as to the state of the roads before venturing

46 Our ARABY

on this extension. Time needed, one day the round
trip by automobile to the Keyes Ranch or Twenty-
nine Palms, (the latter being 136 miles, round
trip.)

Murray Cafion is a picturesque canon opening
westward just to the south of Andreas Canon (q. v.)
It has many fine palms and some interesting rock
formations, and provides a convenient and agree-
able short trip or picnic place. There is a fair
automobile road leading into the cafion. A small
stream of fair water runs in winter and spring.

Painted Cafion or Red Cajfion is a remark-
able ravine in what are locally called the Mud Hills,
on the northeast side of the Coachella Valley. It
opens about five miles north from Mecca, and thus
is about forty-three miles from Palm Springs. The
features of the canon are the brilliant coloring of
the walls in places, and the height and verticality of
the cliffs. The approach to the canon, and its floor,
are sandy and likely to be troublesome for automo-
biles. A small flow of water may be found two or
three miles up, but this is not dependable. Time
needed, one day by automobile.

REFER to “Salton Sea” and “Hidden Spring
Cafion” trips, in same general locality.

Palm Cafion. This may well be termed the
most notable point of Our Araby’s scenery, and it
has been not a little “written up” and pictured in
magazine and newspaper articles. It opens about
seven miles south of Palm Springs, at the very end

TRIPS TO THE CANONS 47

of the arm of desert into which Andreas and Murray
Cantons also debouch. An automobile road runs
to the mouth of the cafion, which is a rocky, wind-
ing ravine, strikingly picturesque, crowded with
palms to the number of, probably, thousands. A
good stream of water flows in the cafion, and
greatly enhances its charm. So unique and beauti-
ful is the place that plans are afoot for setting apart
this canon and some surrounding territory as a
National Park or Monument.

The Salton Sea, of which much has been writ-
ten, is really a great lake formed by the overflow of
the Colorado River. As a geographical accident,
so to speak, of some note it is worth a visit, as well
as for its scenic features and for its interest as a
purely desert lake and an example of geological
phenomena. Its nearest point to Palm Springs is
the northern shore, which is a mile or two from the
town of Mecca, thirty-eight miles down the valley.
Good camping-places by the “sea,” with fair water,
are at Fig-tree John Springs and Fish Springs,
directions for which can be learned at Mecca. Time
needed, one day by automobile.

REFER to “Hidden Spring Canon” and “Painted
Cafion” trips, in same general locality.

The Sand-Dunes_ A trip to the big dunes will
be worth the visitor’s while, either the high dunes
six or eight miles directly northeast of Palm
Springs or the wide expanse of smaller dunes which
lie near and to the left of the road as one goes down

48 Our ARABY

the valley, say sixteen miles out. The view is mem-
orable among these great sand-masses, which realize
one’s idea of Arabia and the Sahara. A picnic here
will be a novelty. Needless to say, no water can
be expected among the dunes. Time needed, one
day horseback.

Seven Palms is a small natural oasis on the
open desert, about seven miles north and a little
east of Palm Springs. It makes a pleasant horse-
back trip (or walk in cool weather), and may be
reached by taking the old sandy road to Palm
Springs Station and thence by a trail skirting the
north edge of the Garnet Hills; or it can easily be
found by striking across country toward the north-
erly point of the big dunes, looking out for the
palms which will be in sight before the railroad is
passed. The attractions are the palms, which are
charmingly grouped, and the fine views of the
mountain peaks to the southwest and northwest.
There is water in plenty, but of poor quality. Time
needed, two hours horseback.

Snow Creek Caiion opens to the southwest
opposite Whitewater Station, and is easily reached
by following the stage-road to that point, whence a
plain road leads into the cafion. A good stream of
water flows all the year, and fair trout-fishing may
be had in it in the season. In a side cafion on the
south of the main cafion near its mouth there is a
group of palms which is interesting as marking the
westerly limit of the tree’s growth. A branch road

Trips TO THE CANONS 49

on the south side of the cafion leads to Snow Creek
Falls, which are worth visiting when much water is
coming down. Time needed, one to two hours by
automobile.

Tahquitz Cafion, (named for the evil spirit of
the Cahuillas) is marked by a striking break in the
mountain wall just to the south of Palm Springs.
It is the favorite resort in the neighborhood of the
village, the popular route being the foot-path along
the bank of the Tahquitz ditch, which follows the
base of the mountain. The main feature of interest
for most people is the waterfall, which after heavy
rains is quite impressive; but the rock scenery, the
cacti, and the outlook from the canon portals are
all well worth notice. There are two trails worth
exploring, an upper and a lower. Automobiles can
take a road (fair) just south of the village going to
the mouth of the cafon. Only the lower part, as
far as the fall, is accessible without hard and even
dangerous climbing.

Thousand Palm Cafion lies to the east and
somewhat south of Palm Springs, being on the
opposite side of the valley and opening into the
foothills of the San Bernardino spur. It is hardly
accessible by automobile, but provides a fine day’s
horseback trip by striking across country through
the dunes, crossing the railroad at Edom and con-
tinuing east by a middling road. The cafon con-
tains remarkable groves of palms. Water of fair
quality has been developed and is found near the

50 Our ARABY

mouth. As the distance from Palm Springs is about
fifteen miles, and the country not easy, the trip can
best be taken as a one-night-out expedition, but it
is not too much for a return the same day if an
early start be made.

Two-Bunch Palms is a double group of palms
picturesquely placed on a bench at the foot of the
hills three or four miles north of Seven Palms. It
can be reached by continuing north across country
from that place (q. v.), being easily found by look-
ing out for the palms, which soon come in sight.
The spot commands fine views of the open desert
and the mountains. There is a spring of good
water. This makes an enjoyable all-day’s horseback
picnic trip, Seven Palms being taken on the way.
Time needed, a good three hours each way.

The Vandeventer Trail starts from near the
foot of Palm Canion (a little to the east) and
climbs to the high plateau known as Pifon Flat. It
is a long trail of about twenty miles following
roughly the dividing line between the outlying spurs
of San Jacinto and Santa Rosa Mountains. About
halfway of the trail is a spot called Little Paradise,
which is practically the only place where camp can
be made in this rough piece of country, also the
only spot where one may rely on getting water (in
a small ciénaga, or marsh, not easily found.) The
trip to this point and return may be made on horse-
back in one long day.

AT TWO-BUNCH PALMS: MT. SAN GORGONIO IN THE DISTANCE

TRIPS TO THE CANONS 51

Whitewater Canon opens to the north from
Whitewater Station, which is nine miles by the
stage-road from Palm Springs. It contains nothing
of special interest, but there are a few palms, also
good water, and fair trout-fishing may be found in
the season if one goes far enough in the canon, up
which there is a road for a considerable distance.
By making the trip on horseback, across country,
other places may be taken en route, viz: Seven
Palms and the Devil’s Garden, which makes it well
worth while. Time needed, one long day horseback.

N. B. As regards excursions involving crossing
the open desert (for instance, the trips to Seven
Palms, Thousand Palm Canon, the Sand-dunes, the
Devil’s Garden, etc.) it is advisable to choose one’s
day with special reference to wind conditions. On
days of strong wind it may easily prove that the
pleasure is outweighed by the discomfort.

VI. FLORA AND FAUNA

LARGE element in the attraction of Our
UN heats lies in the novelty of its animal and

vegetable life. The former is a matter princi-
pally for naturalists, who find interest in noting the
variations from type as regards habits, color, size,
etc., wrought by special conditions among the mam-
mals, birds, and reptiles of the desert. Yet one need
not be a scientist in order to appreciate the humors
of, for instance, the jolly little hairy-tailed desert
mice who have chummed up with me by many a
camp-fire, where they equally amused and amazed
me by taking headers into the hot ashes at every
opportunity, as though the thought of being baked
alive was irresistible. This, too, is the place to enjoy
the antics of that fine joker and gymnast, the road-
runner, of whom strange tales are told, yet none too
strange to seem credible to his admirers.

There would be little value to anyone in printing
here a detailed list of the birds and animals found
in our territory. Such a list would run into hun-
dreds of items (of rats, mice, gophers, or lizards,
for instance, many different kinds would need to be
noted, as well as of sundry birds:) and without the
aid of colored illustrations it would be all but
worthless, even if lengthy descriptions and measure-
ments were given. A brief enumeration of the birds,
mammals, and reptiles is given below, regarding

FLORA AND FAUNA 53

which it should be borne in mind that not only the
immediate neighborhood of Palm Springs but also
the cafions and higher ground within a radius of
some miles is included in the territory covered.
This information is drawn from two publications
of the University of California, viz: “An Account
of the Birds and Mammals of the San Jacinto Area
of Southern California,” by J. Grinnell and H. S.
Swarth, and “The Reptiles of the San Jacinto Area
of Southern California,” by Sarah Rogers Atsatt:
both published by the University of California
Press, Berkeley, California. To these the reader
who desires complete data is referred.

BIRDS
Bluebird, Western Ouzel (Dipper)
Bush-tit Owl, two or three species
Buzzard (Turkey vulture) Pewee, Western Wood
Chat, Long-tailed Phainopepla
Coot (Mud-hen) Phoebe, Say and Black
Dove, Mourning Plover, Killdeer
Duck, two or three species _Poor-will, Dusky
Eagle, Golden Quail, three species
Falcon, Prairie Raven, Western
Flycatcher, two or three Roadrunner
species Robin, Western
Gnatcatcher, two species Shrike (Butcher-bird)
Goldfinch, two or three Snipe, Wilson
species Sparrow, many species
Grosbeak, Black-headed Swallow, two or three species
and Blue Swift, White-throated
Hawk, several species Thrasher, Leconte
Heron, Night Towhee, two or three species

Hummingbird, several species Verdin

Jay, Pifion and California Vireo, two or three species

Lark, Horned Warbler, several species
(CONTINUED)

54 Our ARABY

Lark, Meadow Woodpecker, Cactus and Red-
Linnet (House finch) shafted (Flicker)
Mockingbird Wren, two or three species
Nighthawk, Texas Yellowthroat, Western

Oriole, two or three species

Note:The California Condor, one of the greatest of flying
birds, has within only the last few years vanished from this
region.

MAMMALS

Bat, two or three species Kangaroo-rat, two or three

Chipmunk, Antelope species

Cottontail rabbit Mouse, various species

Cougar (Panther, Puma, Pocket-mouse, two or three
Mountain-lion) species

Coyote Sheep (Bighorn)

Deer, Mule Skunk, two species

Fox, Kit and Gray Wildcat (Lynx)

Gopher, two species Wood-rat, White-footed and

Ground-squirrel, two species Brown-footed

Jackrabbit
ROE ea es

Lizards, various, including the Chuckwalla and Horned-toad.
Snakes: Garter, Gopher, Rattlesnake, Red-racer, Sidewinder.
Tortoise.

A much larger number of people are interested
in the desert plants, which offer the advantage of
being always on view, than in the animal life,
which must be studied under difficulties. Many of
the desert growths are strange enough to challenge
attention at first sight: others steal into one’s notice
or affection by virtue of some quaintness or beauty
of blossom, or by some trait of the useful or un-
expected. Detailed descriptions of such are out of
the question here, nor would descriptions, without

FLORA AND FAUNA 55

expensive colored illustrations, be much to the
point. The best that is possible in this small book
is to transcribe from my larger volume, “California
Desert Trails,” a fairly complete list of the desert
plants, the brief notes on which will serve to iden-
tify a good many of them. The “Western Wild
Flower Guide” of Mr. Charles F. Saunders (an
invaluable manual for anyone interested in Cali-
fornia’s wild flowers) and the “Field Book of West-
ern Wild Flowers” of Miss Margaret Armstrong in
collaboration with J. Thornber, both of which are
illustrated, include a fair number of the noticeable
desert flowers, and will be found useful for
reference.

VII. NOTICEABLE PLANTS OF THE DESERT

Botanists must kindly overlook the lack of exactitude in
these descriptions, which are necessarily brief and in which
technical terms have purposely been wholly avoided.

It should be borne in mind that a number of plants may
be met on the desert, especially about settlements or culti-
vated areas, that are not native there. A few of these,
such as are most likely to come under observation, are
included below. If there seem to be omissions in the
following list, the explanation may be that the plants in
question do not properly come under desert classification.

Abronia aurita. Sand Verbena (not really a verbena, but
somewhat like that plant in its flowering.) A low,
trailing, sticky, soft-stemmed plant, bearing close clus-
ters of fragrant, rosy-purple flowers. Blooms in mid-
spring.

Acacia greggii. Cat-claw, Una de gato. A bush up to 10
feet high, crowded with small sharp thorns, common
in cafions and on hillsides: often mistaken for a small
mesquit, the leaves being like those of that tree but
smaller. Flower a yellowish “spike” (resembling a
pussy-willow catkin): fruit a pod, often curiously
twisted. Blooms in early summer.

Adenostoma sparsifolium. Red-shank, Bastard cedar, Cha-
miso, Yerba del pasmo. A tall, fragrant bush with
red, shreddy bark and fine, stringy foliage. Found in
the mountains bordering the desert, not widely dis-
tributed. Flowers small, white, profuse. Blooms in
late spring.

Agave deserti. Wild Century-plant, Maguey, Mescal.
Leaves blue-gray, very large, succulent, with strong
prickles on edges and a thorn at apex, starting from
the ground. Flower-stalk 8 or 10 feet high, bearing
many sets of clustered, yellow, bell-shaped flowers.

NOTICEABLE PLANTS oy

Common in parts of the desert mountains. Blooms in
mid-spring.

Amsinckia spectabilis. Fiddle-head, Zacate gordo. A very
common, small, hairy, slender-stemmed plant, with
narrow leaves and small orange flowers on stalks that
curl at the tip. Blooms in early and mid-spring.

Anemopsis californica. Yerba mansa. A low, rank-growing
plant found only in damp places. Leaves large and
coarse: flowers large, white, with protruding conical
centre. Blooms in mid-spring.

Aphyllon cooperi. Cancer-root. A low, succulent plant,
somewhat like a stalk of asparagus, bearing a number
of small, purplish flowers. The plant is a parasite,
growing on the roots of other plants. Not common.
Blooms in late summer.

Argemone hispida. Thistle poppy, Cardo, Chicalote. A
prickly, gray or bluish leafed, thistly-looking plant, 1
or 2 feet high, with large, fragile flowers, white with
yellow centre. Blooms in mid- and late summer.

Aster orcuttii. A hardy-looking plant of the driest desert
canons, 1 to 2 feet high; rather rare. Leaves stiff and
paper-like, with prickly-toothed edges: flowers large
and handsome, of lavender rays with yellow centre.
Blooms in early summer.

Astragalus coccineus. A low plant with almost white stem
and leaves and handsome cardinal-red flowers. Found
in the desert mountains, but rare. Blooms in mid-
spring.

Atriplex canescens. Salt-bush, Shad-scale. A good-sized
roundish bush with small, grayish leaves, inconspicuous
flowers, and tassels of striking, bright green seed-
vessels. Blooms in early summer.

Atriplex hymenelytra. Desert holly. <A stiff, shrubby plant
1 or 2 feet high, with whitish, holly-like leaves and
inconspicuous flowers. Found in alkaline soil in dry
cafions or on open desert. Blooms in mid-spring.

Atriplex lentiformis. Quail-bush. A large gray bush very
common on silt or alkaline soil, up to 15 feet high,

58 Our ARABY

and usually of smooth, dome-shaped outline. Flowers
inconspicuous. Blooms in mid-spring.

Baileya pauciradiata. Cotton-plant. A small, loosely
growing plant with pale gray-green stems, narrow
woolly leaves, and small, lemon-yellow flowers. Blooms
in mid- and late summer.

Bebbia juncea. A roundish, dark green bush a foot or two
high, with many slender, almost leafless stems and
numerous small, yellow, fragrant flowers. Blooms
throughout summer.

Beloperone californica. Chuparosa. A good-sized bush,
almost leafless, with purplish green, downy stems and
handsome, dark red, tubular flowers. One of the earliest
blooming desert plants, continuing all spring.

Cacrr:—

Cereus engelmanni. Hedgehog cactus. A cluster of spiny
short stems about the size and shape of cucumbers.
Flowers very handsome, large, cup-shaped, bright rose-
purple with plumy green stigma. Blooms in mid-spring.

Cereus giganteus. Saguaro, Pitahaya. The giant cactus,
common on the Arizona desert hills and found sparingly
in California adjacent to the Colorado River. It is
a tall, fluted column up to 60 feet high, usually with
similar vertical offsets for branches. Flowers large,
white: fruit crimson, edible. Blooms in mid-spring.

Echinocactus cylindraceus. Barrel cactus, Nigger-head,
Biznaga (or Viznaga). A large, cylindrical, ribbed
cactus up to 6 feet high (globular when young) coy-
ered with long curving spines. Flowers greenish yellow,
cup-shaped, in a circle on the top. Blooms in mid-
spring.

Mamillaria tetrancistrus. Pincushion, Strawberry, or
Fish-hook cactus, Chilito. A small, round cactus, usually
1 or 2 inches in height and diameter, with a fuzz of fine
white spines and a longer sharply hooked black one
in the centre of each tuft. Flowers fleshy, lily-like, of
rich claret color: fruit scarlet, finger-shaped, edible.
Blooms in late spring.

THE BIZNAGA, A STRANGE INHABITANT OF THE
GARDEN OF THE SUN

NOTICEABLE PLANTS 59

Mamillaria sp. Like a larger growth of the foregoing,
but somewhat irregular in shape and with waxy-white
flowers. Blooms in late spring.

Opuntia basilaris. A flat-lobed, grayish cactus, velvety-
looking, without noticeable spines but set with myriads
of minute prickles. Flowers very handsome, large, cup-
shaped, cerise, set in row on edge of lobe. Blooms in
mid-spring.

Opuntia bigelovii. Cholla. A plant up to 6 feet tall,
branching in stumpy arms, the whole plant densely
clad with greenish white spines. The older parts turn
almost black. The joints detach very easily and litter
the ground. Flowers greenish white. Blooms in mid-
and late spring.

Opuntia chlorotica. Prickly pear, Indian fig, Nopal. The
common flat-lobed cactus of the coast, found also on
the desert mountains. Flowers pale yellow, sometimes
with reddish tinge, set in a row on edge of lobe: fruit
dark red, edible, but covered with fine prickles. Blooms
in mid-spring.

Opuntia echinocarpa. Deer-horn cactus. A very branch-
ing cactus up to 5 feet high, the joints pale green, very
spiny though less so than O. bigelovii. Flowers greenish
with bronzed look outside. Blooms in mid-spring.

Opuntia ramosissima. Similar in habit to O. echinocarpa
but with much slenderer stems and fewer but stronger
spines. Flowers small, brown. Blooms in late spring.

Cassia armata. A low bushy plant with handsome yellow
flowers, found in the desert mountains, but rare. Blooms
in mid-spring.

Centaurea melitensis. Star thistle, Jocalote. A small,
usually single-stemmed plant a foot or so high, with
narrow gray-green leaves. Flowers small, yellow:
flower-heads very prickly. Blooms in .mid-spring and
summer.

Cercidium torreyanum. Palo verde, Lluvia de oro. A tree
up to 30 feet high, noticeable for the smooth green
bark of the entire tree. Foliage small, scanty, and

60 Our ARABY

short-lived, so that the tree is usually bare: the twigs
bear short thorns. Flowers profuse, bright yellow:
fruit a pod. Blooms in mid-spring.

Chilopsis linearis. Desert willow (not properly a willow
but belonging to the Bignonia family.) A small,
willow-like tree, up to 20 feet high, usually found in
washes. Leaves narrow: flowers handsome and plenti-
ful, white marked with lilac and yellow, fragrant; fruit
a pod, very long and narrow, remaining on the tree
after the seeds have fallen. Blooms from mid-spring
to autumn.

Chorizanthe brevicornu. A small, leafless, yellow-green
plant, resembling the dry yellow moss sometimes found
on pine trees. Flowers inconspicuous.

Coldenia plicata. A hardy-looking, mat-like plant with
small, deeply-veined, dark green leaves and tiny white
flowers. Blooms in mid-spring.

Croton californica. One of the commonest desert plants.
A thin bush 2 or 3 feet high, with many slender
straight stems and few light-gray oval leaves. The
plant gathers into a goblet-shaped tuft as it dries.
Flowers small, yellowish. Blooms from late spring to
late summer.

Dalea:—the genus has been re-named Parosela, q. v.

Datura meteloides. Jimson weed, Tolguache (or Toluache) .
A rank-growing plant 2 or 3 feet high, common on
both coast and desert, with large, coarse, dark-green
leaves and very large, white or pale lilac, trumpet-
shaped flowers that open in the evening. Blooms from
spring to autumn.

Dithyrea californica. A small coarse-leafed plant found in
sandy soil usually about bushes. Flowers small, fra-
grant, of four white petals. Blooms in early spring.

Encelia californica. A stiff, bushy plant with dark-green
leaves and brittle, woody stems, common on and near
the base of desert mountains. Flowers bright yellow,

NOTICEARLE PLANTS ol

on straight stalks that project well above the rest of
the plant. Blooms in mid-spring.

Encelia farinosa. Incense bush, White brittle bush, Yerba
de incienso. One of the commonest of desert plants in
the neighborhood of mountains, in form a compact
rounded bush 2 to 3 feet high. Leaves silver-gray,
firm in texture: flowers like those of E. californica.
The plant exudes drops of amber-colored gum. Blooms
in mid-spring.

Ephedra californica. Desert tea, Canutillo. A shrub 2 to
3 feet high, entirely composed of straight, smooth, dark-
green stems without leaves. Flowers inconspicuous.

Eremiastrum bellioides. Desert star. A small prostrate
plant, hardly noticeable except for its pretty, daisy-
like flowers, borne on radiating horizontal stems.
Blooms in mid-spring.

Eremocarya micrantha. A small, slender herb with small
linear leaves and tiny white flowers. It dries to a
whitish, woolly-looking little plant that is greedily
eaten by horses. The root yields a bright madder
stain. Blooms in early spring.

Eriodictyon tomentosum. Yerba santa. A bush 5 or 6 feet
high, found in canons, with narrowish, gray-green,
woolly leaves and clusters of lavender funnel-shaped -
flowers. (It is the coast species, E. glutinosum, or
E. californicum, with smooth, dark-green, sticky leaves,
that was so highly valued for its medicinal properties
by the Spanish Californians.) Blooms in late spring.

Eriogonum inflatum. Bottle plant, Desert trumpet. A plant
up to 3 feet high, with a few slender, straight, strag-
gling stems that end in elongated swellings. Leaves
heart-shaped, growing only at base: flowers small,
yellowish. Blooms in mid-spring.

Eulobus californicus. A slender, straight, spindling plant,
a foot or so high, with small yellow flowers and very
narrow straight seed-vessels. Blooms in late spring.

Euphorbia polycarpa. Rattlesnake weed, Golondrina. A
flat-growing, mat-like plant with radiating reddish stems

62 Our ARABY

and small, roundish, bronze-green, white-edged leaves.
Flowers very small, white or pinkish. Blooms in late
spring.

Fagonia californica. A low, open-growing plant found on
rocky desert hillsides, with hardly noticeable leaves
but many pretty, star-shaped, pale magenta flowers.
Blooms in mid-spring.

Ferns:—These are naturally rare in desert regions, and are
found only along the bases of the mountains, where
falls the greater part of the little rain that occurs in
this arid territory. Besides those named there are a
few others which are very rarely found.

Cheilanthes viscida. Lip fern. Fronds elongated, dark
green, very much dissected, and covered with a sticky
secretion. Found usually in crevices of the rocks in
canons.

Notholaena cretacea. Cloak fern. Fronds triangular in
outline, moderately divided, and thickly coated with
a white powder. When dry they roll up into brittle
balls, but when rain comes they unroll and resume
life. This and the species next named usually grow
under the edges of rocks and boulders on hillsides, or
on the sides of canons.

Notholaena parryi. Cloak fern. Fronds elongated, rather
narrow, pinnately divided, the upper surface densely
clothed with whitish hairs, the lower brown and woolly.

Fouquieria splendens. Candle wood, Ocotillo. A unique
plant composed of a number of long gray thorny canes
diverging at ground: usually 6 or 8 feet high but
sometimes double as much or over. Leaves small, dark-
green, and short-lived: flowers scarlet, tubular, in a
long spike at ends of canes. Blooms in early spring,
or at any time when sufficient rain has fallen.

Franseria dumosa. Burro-weed. A stiff, brittle, rounded,
gray bush, common on and near the base of desert
mountains. Leaves small, gray-green: flowers yellowish,

NoricEABLE PLANTS 63

in close spikes. The plant has a strong, somewhat
turpentiny smell. Blooms in mid-spring.

GRASSES :-—

Cynodon dactylon. Bermuda grass. Not properly a desert
grass, but has become established in the irrigated areas.
It is bright green and close-growing, with small, pointed
leaves. It makes good emergency forage.

Distichlis spicata. Salt grass. A low-growing, pale green
or gray grass, leaves in double rank, herring-bone style.
It is very common, forming a close sod on moist, and
especially on alkaline, soils. Animals will eat it when
hard pressed.

Epicampes rigens. Basket grass, Zacaton. A tall, rigid,
slender-stemmed, pale green grass forming large tus-
socks 2 to 4 feet high. It grows among rocks near
streams, and on dry hills, and though poor fodder is
valued by Indian women for basketry purposes.

Oryzopsis membranacea. Sand grass. A small, tussocky
grass with slender stems 6 to 12 inches long, leaves
bright green. It is found in sandy soil and makes
good forage; also is valuable to the Indians for its
edible seeds.

Panicum urvilleanum. A strong, coarse grass with rather
stiff, pale green leaves a foot or more long. It grows
in loose dry sand, and has little, if any, forage value.

Pleuraphis rigida. Blue-stem, Galleta. A coarse-, almost
woody-stemmed, stiff grass growing in large dense
clumps 2 to 4 feet high, and in the driest of soils. The
stems appear dry and dead except at the tips, which
are pale bluish green. It is an excellent forage-plant.

Sporobolus airoides. Zacaton. A coarse, stiff bunch-grass
2 or 3 feet high, flowering in loose, spreading panicles.

Tridens pulchella. A low, tufted grass 2 to 6 inches high,
common on dry hills and mesas, often among rocks,
with small dense panicles of blossom in which the tips
of the flower-bracts are tinged with purple. Tt has
practically no forage value.

64 Our ARABY

Hesperocallis undulatus. Desert lily, Ajo. <A true lily,
with narrow, ribbony, crinkle-edged leaves lying flat
at the base of the straight flower-stem, which is about
2 feet high. Flowers 3 or 4 inches in diameter, fra-
grant, white with green veining on back of petals,
several to a stem. Blooms in mid-spring.

Hibiscus denudatus. A shrub 1 or 2 feet high, with scanty
gray-green leaves and large, handsome flowers, white
with dark purple “eye.” Blooms in late spring.

Hoffmanseggia microphylla. <A tall, loosely-growing plant
found in dry desert canons. Usually a number of the
slender cane-like stems grow in a clump _ together.
Leaves twice compound, of numerous minute leaflets:
flowers yellow, in an open elongated cluster.

Hofmeisteria pluriseta. A small bushy plant growing in
the crevices of rocky cliffs, the stems slender but woody,
and the leaf-blades like a flattened tip on the leaf-stems.
Flowers in small heads, abundant but not showy.

Hymenoclea salsola. Salt bush. A common, large, grayish
bush with small, narrow leaves. Flowers very small,
greenish, in profuse clusters at end of twigs. Blooms
in late spring.

Hyptis emoryi. Lippia. A tall bush of the lower moun-
tain slopes, up to 10 feet high, with rather straight
stems usually branching from the ground. Leaves gray-
green: flowers small, numerous, lavender colored, in
loose spikes. The leaves and blossoms have a lavender-
like smell. Blooms from mid-spring to autumn.

Isocoma acradenia. A small shrub with narrow, dark-green
leaves and small, yellow flowers; common and widely
distributed. Blooms in early spring.

Isomeris arborea. Bladder-pod. A vigorous, ill-smelling
shrub 4 to 8 feet high, with light-green, triply-divided
leaves and clusters of showy, yellow flowers. The seed-
vessel is a large pale-green pod. Blooms from earliest
to late spring.

Krameria parvifolia. A common bush of the lower moun-
tain slopes, 2 feet or so high, with few, inconspicuous

NOTICEABLE PLANTS 65

leaves and purplish gray, much-interlaced stems and
twigs. Flowers deep claret color: seed-vessels small,
round, prickly. Blooms in mid- and late spring.

Larrea glandulosa. Creosote bush, Greasewood, Hediondia.
The commonest and most widely distributed shrub of
the desert, growing up to 12 feet high, in strong, some-
what brittle stems diverging from the ground. The
branches and twigs are regularly marked with rings.
Leaves small, glossy, bright dark green, sticky, with
strong tarry odor: flowers profuse, bright yellow, ma-
turing to small, round, woolly seed-vessels. Blooms from
mid-spring to mid-summer.

Lycium andersonii. A strong bush usually 4 or 5 feet high,
but in open desert a low patch of stiff intertangled
stems. Leaves small, gray: flowers few and small,
tubular, pale lilac: fruit a small, transparent, edible
(but insipid) red berry. Blooms in mid-spring.

Malvastrum rotundifolium. Five-spot. A small, upstanding,
hairy plant, often branching, with roundish leaves and
handsome cup- or globe-shaped flowers of pale lilac
with a carmine spot at base of each of the five petals.
Blooms in late spring.

Martynia proboscidea. Elephant’s trunk, Devil’s claw. A
rank, weedy plant, not common, with large, roundish
leaves and a few handsome flowers, white with yellow
and purple markings. The seed-vessels are dispropor-
tionately large, from 6 to 10 inches long, curved and
tapering, splitting as they dry into two long, springy
horns connected at base. Blooms in summer and into
autumn.

Mentzelia involucrata. A plant of the open desert, a foot
or more high, with thistly-looking, gray leaves and very
handsome, large, satiny flowers, white or creamy with
fine vermilion pencilling. Blooms in mid-spring.

Mirabilis aspera. A small, bushy plant with slender
branching stems and grayish leaves, found near the
base of mountains. Flowers white, primrose-like, open-
ing at evening. Blooms in late spring.

66 Our ARABY

Mohavea viscida. A small, hairy plant with straight, usually
single stem and narrow leaves. Flowers large, deep
cup-shaped, satiny, greenish-creamy with small purple
dots: petals saw-edged. Blooms in mid-spring.

Nama demissum. A pretty little mat-like plant, sending
out spoke-like arms at ends of which are small carmine
flowers. Blooms in mid-spring.

Navarretia virgata. A small, dried-out looking plant of the
open desert. Leaves inconspicuous: flowers numerous,
pale bright blue. The last of the noticeable spring
flowers, continuing into early summer.

Nicotiana bigelovii. Coyote tobacco. A many-stemmed
plant, 1 to 2 feet high, with dark-green leaves and
white, narrow-tubular flowers. Blooms midsummer to
autumn.

Nolina parryi. A yucca-like plant of dry mountain-sides,
not common. Leaves long, narrow, spiky, bluish green:
flowers whitish, in a compact elongated cluster 2 or 3
feet long, on a tall stem rising from the centre of the
sheaf of leaves. Blooms in mid-spring.

Oenothera gauraeflora. A small plant with straight, stiff,
usually single stem bearing a cluster of small pinkish
flowers. The bark is white and shreddy and the seed-
vessels tongue-like and curved. Blooms in late spring.

Oenothera pallida. Sun-cups. A slender-stemmed plant
with rather narrow, pointed and toothed leaves. Flowers
bright yellow: seed-vessels curly with double twist.
Blooms in mid- and late spring.

Oenothera scapoidea, A small plant with single stem 6 to
8 inches high, and a cluster of little pinkish flowers.
One of the earliest spring flowers but blooms on into
early summer.

Oenothera trichocalyx. Evening primrose. Yerba salada.
A low, strong, rather spreading plant with large, rather
narrow, grayish green leaves and very large fragrant
flowers, white (pink when faded) with sulphur-yellow

THE OCOTILLO AND PALO VERDE

NoTICEABLE PLANTS 67

centres, opening at night. Blooms in mid- and late
spring.

Olneya tesota. Ironwood, Palo fierro (or hierro.) A trim
tree, up to 20 feet high, with thorny twigs and grayish
green leaves composed of many leaflets. Flowers dull
blue, like small pea-blossoms: fruit a pod. Blooms in
early summer.

Palafoxia linearis. A common, straggling plant of many
slender stems up to 3 feet high. Leaves few, narrow,
dark gray-green: flowers lavender or pinkish, tubular,
with long calyx. Blooms almost all the year.

Parosela (formerly Dalea) californica. A stiff, woody bush,
up to 3 feet high, with clear yellowish bark. Leaves
small, gray, narrowly divided: flowers plentiful, resem-
bling pea-blossoms, dark bright blue. Blooms in mid-
spring.

Parosela (formerly Dalea) emoryi. Dye-weed. A gray,
weedy bush 2 or 3 feet high, easily identified by the
orange stain which the flower-heads leave on hands
or clothing. Leaves small, composed of several leaflets:
flowers tiny, purple, in small close clusters. Blooms
mid-spring to late summer.

Parosela (formerly Dalea) mollis. A small, grayish plant
with much-divided leaves and tiny, rosy-purple flowers
in woolly-looking clusters. Blooms in late spring and
early summer.

Parosela (formerly Dalea) schottii. A large, rather thorny
bush, up to 6 feet high. Leaves very narrow, dark
bright green: flowers resembling pea-blossoms, dark
brilliant blue. Blooms in mid-spring.

Parosela (formerly Dalea) spinosa. Smoke-tree, Indigo-
bush. A small tree, up to 15 feet high, common in
washes. Practically leafless, the tree is a mass of whit-
ish spiny twigs. Flowers small but very abundant,
resembling pea-blossoms, dark brilliant blue. Blooms
in early summer.

Pectis papposa. Chinch-weed. A _ low, small, rounded
plant, vividly green, with bright yellow flowers. It has

68 Our ARABY

a strong, rather unpleasant smell. Blooms throughout
summer.

Perityle emoryi. A small plant found growing among
rocks. Flowers white, daisy-like. Blooms in mid-spring.

Petalonyx thurberi. Sandpaper-plant. A low, rounded,
whitish bush with a peculiar roughness to the touch.
Leaves small, light-green, scaly: flowers profuse, light
yellowish green. Blooms in late spring.

Phacelia campanularia. Canterbury bell. A small, usually
single-stemmed plant, with roundish, rather hairy leaves
and large, deep-purple, bell-shaped flowers. Found (on
the desert) only in cafions or near water. Blooms in
mid-spring.

Phacelia sp. Wild heliotrope, Vervenia. A straggling, soft-
stemmed, rather hairy plant, up to 4 feet high, with
small, compound leaves and profuse, heliotrope-blue
flowers in curling clusters. Blooms early to late spring.

Philibertia linearis. Twining milkweed. A strong creeper
found on willows or other strong supporting plants,
growing up to 6 or 8 feet high. Leaves few and grayish;
flowers pale lavender, in a close rosette. Blooms in
mid-spring.

Phoradendron californicum. Mistletoe. A parasite very
common on the mesquit and other leguminous desert
trees. It is leafless, but has numerous small pink or
white berries.

Phragmites communis. Carrizo. A reed-like grass or cane,
up to 10 feet high, with long, narrow leaves, found in
damp places on the open desert.

Pluchea sericea. Arrowweed, Cachanilla. <A _ straight-
growing, cane-like plant, up to 10 feet high, abundant
in damp places both in cafons and on open desert.
Leaves gray, narrow, willow-shaped: flowers small,
clustered, dull pinkish purple. Blooms in midsummer.

Prosopis glandulosa. Mesquit. A wide-branching, thorny
tree, up to 20 feet high, found singly or in thickets.
Leaves of many leaflets, resembling small leaves of the
pepper-tree: flowers yellowish “spikes,” (like pussy-

NOTICEABLE PLANTS 69

willows) : fruit long, narrow pods, in clusters. Blooms
in late spring.

Prosopis pubescens. Screwbean mesquit, Tornillo. A
smaller and slenderer tree than the foregoing, favoring
alkaline soil. Leaves and flowers similar to the above,
but somewhat smaller: fruit twisted pods, like screws,
in clusters. Blooms in late spring.

Prunus eriogyna. Wild apricot. A large, branching, thorny
bush, up to 8 feet high, found in some desert canons.
Leaves small, bright light green; flowers numerous,
white, like small plum blossoms: fruit reddish yellow
when ripe, with a small quantity of sweetish pulp.
Blooms in early spring.

Psathyrotes ramosissima. A low, compact, rounded plant
with light-gray leaves and small, yellow flowers. Blooms
in late spring.

Purshia tridentata. Bitter-brush. A strong, woody bush 5
or 6 feet high, with a casual resemblance to the com-
mon creosote bush (Larrea) but rare. Flowers bright
yellow. Blooms in late spring.

Rhus ovata. Sumac, Mangla. A large, compact, roundish
bush or small tree, native to coast regions but some-
times found in or near desert cafions. Leaves dark
bright green, glossy, suggesting those of the laurel:
flowers white or pink, profuse, in very close clusters:
fruit a reddish sticky berry. Blooms in late spring.

Salazaria mexicana. Bladder-bush. A roundish bush, up
to 3 feet high, rather rare. Leaves few and small, gray:
flowers showy, white and purple; the calyces become
inflated and look like little round bladders. Blooms
in early summer.

Salvia carduacea. Thistle-sage. A thistly-looking plant a
foot or so high, with large, prickly, grayish leaves and
handsome light-purple flowers in round-headed clusters.
Blooms in late spring.

Salvia columbarieae. Chia. A small plant a foot or so
high, usually with a single stiff stem rising from a

70 Our ARABY

few deeply-cut leaves and bearing one or more clusters
of small purple flowers closely grouped in rings.
Blooms in mid-spring.

Sesbania macrocarpa. Wild hemp. A _ straight, slender,
spindling plant, up to 8 feet high, found in damp
ground in Imperial Valley and near the Colorado
River. Flowers yellow, pea-like. Blooms in mid- and
late summer.

Simmondsia californica. Goat-nut, Quinine-plant. A strong
shrub, up to 6 feet high, with gray-green leaves some-
what like those of the manzanita. Flowers whitish,
inconspicuous: fruit a small, brown, edible nut with
smooth, pointed husk. Blooms in mid-spring.

Sphaeralcea ambigua. Wild hollyhock. A loose-growing
plant, up to 3 feet high, with grayish stems and leaves.
Flowers numerous and striking, of a peculiar light-
vermilion color. Blooms in midspring and early summer.

Stephanomeria exigua. A low, slender-stemmed plant bear-
ing a white starry flower something like that of the
single pink. Blooms in mid-spring.

Stillingia annua. A very small but hardy-looking plant with
stiff, saw-edged, light green, upright leaves. Flowers
inconspicuous.

Suaeda ramosissima. A common, loose-growing bush of the
open desert, 3 or 4 feet high, with very slender, bright-
green, juicy stems that give a pink stain on being
crushed. Leaves and flowers inconspicuous.

Trichoptilium incisum. A small, almost white plant, very
woolly, with small, composite, yellow flowers. Blooms
in early summer.

Washingtonia filifera. Fan palm. The native palm of the
desert, found in many canons and occasionally in the
open desert, though never in dry soil. Up to 70 feet
high. Fronds light-green, with stringy filaments: flowers
small, creamy, in long, drooping clusters: fruit a small
hard berry, black and sweet when ripe. Blooms in
early summer.

NOTICEABLE PLANTS 71

Yucca brevifolia. Joshua tree, Yucca palm. A tree-yucca,
up to 30 feet high, with stiff, strong arms and tufts
of blade-like leaves, found in certain mountain and
high mesa localities. Flowers whitish, bell-shaped, in
large clusters, rather ill-smelling: fruit a short, thick
pod which remains closed when mature and dry.
Blooms in early spring.

Yucca mohavensis. A small tree-yucca, somewhat branch-
ing, with tufts of very long, dagger-like leaves, found
in similar localities to those inhabited by the foregoing.
Flowers also similar: fruit a large blunt pod which
becomes soft and edible when ripe. Blooms in late
spring.

Yucca whipplei. Spanish bayonet, Quijote. The common
yucca of the coast mountains, with a very large spike
of creamy, bell-shaped flowers on a tall, straight stalk
rising from a sheaf of long, stiff, spiky leaves. Fruit
becomes hard and splits open when ripe. Blooms in
late spring.

VIII. CLIMATE AND HEALTH

ARLY one morning in April a few years ago

EF a party of four, of whom I was one, were

leaving Beaumont for Palm Springs. We had

come from the coast, two of my friends driving in a

camp-wagon, the other on horseback like myself.
This was our fourth day out.

The weather was cold and cloudy as we left
Beaumont, and a dash of rain spattered us as we
raced through Banning, six miles on our road. It
looked as if more were coming, so we who were
on horseback halted a moment on the edge of town
and put our ponchos on. From here we had a
twelve mile straight-away stretch down to the
Whitewater Ranch. The clouds hung heavy and
low on the great mountains to right and left, and
at our two thousand feet of altitude we looked out
from under the stormy canopy as from beneath a
hood. The effect was highly theatrical. Below and
far ahead, at the foot of the hollow scoop of the
pass, lay a pale golden land, shimmering in sun-
light under a sky of summery blue. It was like
magic, or a dream, and we gazed with all our eyes:
but on the moment an icy blast rushed down from
Grayback and lashed us with a storm of hail. This,
anyhow, was no dream. Hastily we mounted and
dashed forward; but for an hour as we galloped
down the pass we were alternately thrashed on the

CLIMATE AND HEALTH 73

back with chilly rain and pelted liberally with
hail: while all the time the golden land stretched
away before us, smiling lazily in the sun. Suddenly,
a mile or two below Cabezon, we rode out into
glorious warmth. The rest was pure enjoyment.
We lunched in pleasant shade of a desert willow at
Whitewater Point and by early afternoon were at
Palm Springs receiving a good Scots welcome from
our old friend Doctor Murray. That night we
stretched out luxuriously under the flowering gre-
villeas of the Brooks House, bathed in moonbeams
and odor of orange-blossoms, lulled by the soft
clatter of palm-fronds and an occasional somnam-
bulistic outbreak from the night-herons roosting in
the cottonwoods near the spring.

I have related this by way of illustration. It is
an incident which could be duplicated a score of
times any winter or spring. Day after day we resi-
dents and visitors of Our Araby may sit snugly in
the sun, watching, like a show, the gloomy or angry
moods of the Cloud King in his mountain fastnesses
over San Bernardino, San Jacinto, and Santa Rosa,
and rubbing our hands over the contrast. Night
after night we may lie out under a full hemisphere
of stars, breathing air which Professor Van Dyke
properly names “the finest air on the continent,”
with no thought of rheumatic or neuralgic imps
lurking in fog or dew. Morning after morning we
may wake to see San Jacinto’s flank of dusky red
turn suddenly to a mystery of rosy loveliness as the
sun flashes up over the eastern wall of the valley

74 Our ARABY

—a thing which, though experienced a thousand
times, I can never see without a feeling of being
enchanted, or about to turn into a Maxfield Parrish.

But now to be more specific, for I wish to guard
against the danger that lurks in “glittering gen-
eralities.” Figures, as regards climate, do not tell
everything, but they serve for a skeleton, and Gov-
ernment statistics are reliable, if nothing else. Here,
then, are the U. S. Department of Agriculture’s
records of rainfall and temperature for a recent
series of years: (the official figures for the succeed-
ing years are incomplete.) The data are for Palm
Springs Station, six miles from the village, and
therefore are not exact for the latter point: but
they will serve fairly.

AVERAGE MONTHLY TEMPERATURES AT PALM SPRINGS
STATION, YEARS 1907 TO 1915 INCLUSIVE

Jan, Feb.MarchApl. May June July Aug. Sept. Oct. Nov. Dec.
Highest. 77 80 90 96 104 112 1138 112 107 98 87 176
Tiowest. . 130) 37,45 52) (56 64 (43) 173) Ge) Woes
Mean.)).)'53 655 ) 68) 69) 78 84) 90°90) “ea 7S 62a

In the nine years the maximum temperature
reached was 118°, in July 07 and May 710. The
minimum was 18°, which was touched in a “record”
cold spell in January 13: with that exception 26°,
in December 711, is the lowest figure for the nine-
year period, with 28° on three occasions for next
lowest.

RAINFALL, inches:

1907, 4.80; 08, 3.50; '09, 5.50; 710, 3.94; °11, 4.83; 712, 5.66;
SIS RO eM Aetve Sirie Loy ho edie
(Average for the nine years, 5.08 inches.)

It will be seen that Palm Springs’ average annual
rainfall is about five inches, which, small as it is,

SONIYdS WIVd LY ANVI ACGVHS V

CLIMATE AND HEALTH 15

considerably exceeds that of localities only a few
miles away on the open desert. Heavy falls of rain
and snow occur on the mountain which rises close
behind us, and we come in for the fringe of these
storms: besides which, the mountain acts as our
trustee in general, collecting our winter income of
moisture and dealing it out to us as we need it by
means of the Chino and Tahquitz Cafion streams.
(The village draws also on San Bernardino Moun-
tain for part of its water-supply, which is brought
many miles across the desert from Whitewater
Creek.) Thus it arises that along with a sufficiency
of water (excellent water, too) our normal climate
is the dry, sunny climate of the desert.

A remarkable range of temperature will be
noticed in the figures given above—a natural feature
of desert climates everywhere. (Even sleet has been
seen at Palm Springs, but such a thing occurs only
“once in a blue moon.”) These wide variations
occur not only between summer and winter but
also between day and night temperatures, the ex-
planation being, of course, the low rate of humidity
(averaging 15 degrees) which is the usual condi-
tion. Through this dry air the sun’s rays strike
with a direct heat like that of a furnace, which,
even when scorching, is never debilitating: and the
moment the sun drops, the thermometer drops
sharply with it. This gives us a conjunction of
warm days with cool or even cold nights, and ren-
ders life, and even physical exertion, on the desert
quite tolerable even in the heat of summer. Radia-

76 Our ARABY

tion is rapid, and shade may be depended on to
yield coolness.

Naturally, with this condition, such a thing as
fog is unknown. The sea-fogs of the coast are
blocked by the high barrier of mountains (though
in any case they very seldom reach so far inland as
that.) Once last summer, indeed, by some meteoro-
logical freak, a fog which, probably, originated in
the Gulf of California, did for an hour or two
invade Our Araby, but it ranks as a phenomenon.
Dew also is a rarity, even with our clear night skies,
so that sleepers-out may safely ignore the risk of
damp.

As for wind, such affairs as sand-storms are not
unknown, but they seldom occur, and are not to
be thought of as the kind of thing that overwhelms
travellers in the Sahara. Some discomfort may be
entailed, and, to housewives, some work afterwards
with broom and duster; but beyond that a Palm
Springs sand-storm amounts to a very mild adven-
ture. Backed against friendly old San Jacinto, we
are shielded from the worst assaults of the wind-
demon, and we often learn with surprise from some
one arriving in the village that there has been a
“blow” on the unsheltered levels only a few miles
away.

% + + % % +

From what has been said above it will be gath-
ered that Palm Springs offers special advantages
to persons suffering from certain ailments. For
many years physicians have been sending patients

CLIMATE AND HEALTH 77

here, especially for lung and kidney affections. As
regards tubercular patients, it should be noted that
at the time of writing there is no proper accommo-
dation available, so that it is very inadvisable for
such persons to come to Palm Springs unless
arrangements have been made for quarters. It is
hoped that before long the needs of this class of
health-seekers will be provided for.

Good results have been found to follow the use
of the water of the hot spring, both for bathing and
drinking, in cases of kidney disease. Further, it
would be hard to find better conditions than those
reigning at Palm Springs for the cure or help of
nerve ailments; and here, if anywhere, the factors
of pure air, sunshine, quietude, and healthful sur-
roundings in general may be counted on by those
seeking to regain or reinforce their health.

Subjoined is the Government analysis of the
water of the spring.

Milligrams

per Liter
Metaborre: Acid (B02) ses e aus ee trace
Srlie ats (S102) sees EN eee ie 44.8
Sulphurie) (Acrdi (S04) is oe ee a ake
Warhonier Acta (Cos) Le sea ee Mee 33.0
Bicarbonic) Acid CH C03) 22 eee 36.6
INitrici Acids (INOS)\e aks soo te SA als 0.1
hl orm) (GLE) ieee 2s We DA ae eae eR 25.0
NOTIN CLG) (yee a 2) ee ie ee een Takada 1.9
PSH Ceri hii gt Gf 1) RRR IO RN TUE eR 2.5
Mieoarecrum (Mig yy Oi UN Ra lh 0.7
rear ie MURINE N SiR A NR STS UES MOTE aE 67.5

78

Our ARABY
Hypothetical Combinations

Sodium Nitrate (NaN03)—---------------- 0.2
Sodium))Chloride (CNA Ch) 2a aoe san estas Al.2
Sodium Sulphate (Na2S04) --------------- 55.2
Sodium Carbonate (Na2C03) --_----------- 58.3
Sodium Bicarbonate (NaHC03)_---------- 29.4
Magnesium Bicarbonate (Mg(HC03)2)---_ 4.2
Calcium Bicarbonate (Ca(HC03) 2) _------__ 10.1
Ferrous Bicarbonate (Fe(HC03)2)_------- 6.0
Salical (S102) ease WAG he a ah le Sea 44.8

249.4

Temperature—104°

IX. ACCOMMODATION AND CONVENIENCES,
AND HOW TO COME

our visitors need fear no hardships: indeed,

our leading hotel is apt to prove a surprise
to guests who come with the thought of “putting up
with things.” It is not the intention of the writer
to advertise any of the business concerns of Palm
Springs; but for the information of intending
visitors it should be said that the best accommoda-
tion is offered by the Desert Inn, while less expen-
sive quarters may be found at one or two other
places in the village. A number of pleasant small
tent-houses are rented by Mrs. L. F. Crocker, and
these again are supplemented by a few others scat-
tered about. Inquiries regarding quarters addressed
to the Postmaster would be handed by him to the
person most likely to be able to suit the applicant.
Now and then one of the residents is willing to rent
his or her comfortable house: in this case also the
Postmaster would act as intermediary.*

| ease Palm Springs is strong for simplicity

As for “modern conveniences’—almost the only
item in that ever-growing category that is a genuine

*As stated under Climate and Health, there are at present
no regular arrangements for the accommodation of
tubercular cases. Such should not come without
quarters having been secured in advance.

80 Our ARABY

necessity, viz., a piped water-system, Palm Springs
possesses: the next in value, electric lighting, may
shortly be expected to arrive. As yet we are free
of the everlasting jingle of the telephone, yet have
the really useful telegraph at command. , Daily
train service both east and west, with its corollary
of daily mail and news service, need hardly be
specified: they may be taken for granted.

To conclude: we are well served with stores:
possess a neat church, nominally Presbyterian, in
which services are regularly held (there is also
a Roman Catholic church on the Indian Reserva-
tion): our school is creditable: we are furnished
with the indispensable garage, well appointed: and
the services of an excellent physician are always at
our disposal except during the very hot months of
the year, when the white population is practically
nil,

* + % * * ¥

Travelers coming BY TRAIN should buy tickets not
to Palm Springs, but to WHITEWATER, which is the
station at which the auto-stage meets the train.
(Palm Springs Station is connected with the village
only by a very poor road, not available for auto
travel.) The distance to the village is nine miles,
which is covered in half an hour. By RoapD the route
from the coast is via Pomona, Ontario, Riverside
or San Bernardino, Beaumont, Banning, and the
main desert road through Cabezon and Whitewater.

ACCOMMODATION AND CONVENIENCES 81

For matt the proper address is Palm Springs,
Riverside County, California.
TELEGRAMS take the same address.

Express packages and FREIGHT should be ad-
dressed—Palm Springs via Whitewater, California.

APP EN Dit xX

HINTS TO MOTORISTS

{Quoted by permission of United States Geological Sur-
vey from “Suggestions to Travellers” in Water-Supply
Paper 490—A., “Routes to Desert Watering Places in the
Salton Sea Region, California,” by John S. Brown: Wash-
ington, 1920.]

More people travel the desert now in automobiles than
in any other way, although horses are not unknown and
even foot travellers are sometimes seen. Low-geared trucks
with large tires have an advantage in freighting or traveling
very sandy roads. With an experienced desert driver the
average car can travel almost any road that is passable for
wagons. Without careful driving it may fail to get any-
where on a comparatively good road. Automobile parties
should always carry a supply of spare tires and tubes. A
vulcanizing outfit for making patches is especially desirable.
A tire gauge is very useful, and an air pump and a jack
are necessary.

Sand is the worst obstacle . . . Fortunately it is less
prevalent than popular fancy imagines. The average road
consists of a pair of wheel ruts; and in sandy places it is
essential to stay in these ruts. Leave them only to pass
another vehicle and then keep two wheels of the car in a
rut if the sand is bad. Parties attempting to pass on a
sandy road can usually do so by helping push the autos if
other means fail. Wheel ruts, if fresh, are easily traversed
even in deep sand, but old ruts or wagon tracks make very
difficult travelling for automobiles. On such roads if a car
gets stuck it is often possible to back up and by getting
a fresh start in one’s own tracks break the road ahead
through bad sand. A shovel is sometimes useful in short
stretches for cleaning out covered ruts.

It is common practice in case of trouble in sand to deflate
the tires. This gives the tire a greater bearing surface by
allowing it to flatten out and increases the effectiveness
of a car’s gearing by reducing the diameter of the wheel.
There is danger of rim cutting by having the tires too soft;

APPENDIX 83

so that no more air should be allowed to escape than is
absolutely necessary. No fixed rule is known, but for
Ford cars a pressure of 35 or even 30 pounds was found
safe and always gave good results. Tires are not damaged
by running “soft” in sand, but they should be immediately
pumped up when hard ground is reached, or they will suffer
rim cuts, stone bruises, or blow-outs. The tire gauge is a
necessity for judging the safe reduction of air pressure.

One great trouble in soft sand is that the wheels lose
traction and spin, digging down and down into the sand.
This is frequently brought about by attempting to start too
suddenly. On the other hand, going too slowly when
moving induces the wheels to spin. After a wheel has
“dug in” it has to be “dug out” with a shovel, jacked up,
and the hole surfaced with brush, canvas, or stones to give
a bearing. Very effective use can be made of two strips of
heavy canvas, say 30 feet long and 18 inches wide, for
such difficulties. The strips must be thrust under the rear
wheel, then laid lengthwise ahead in the ruts, and it is
necessary to lift the front wheels and set them on the
canvas to hold it down while the rear wheels pull. Other-
wise the canvas is chewed up and “spit” out in the rear
by the spinning wheels. Canvas solved the trouble of the
worst sand for the Survey party without much recourse to
brush or shovelling. Progress is slow, but nearly any
bad place may be crossed in this manner. The use of canvas
for occasional trips on well-travelled roads is seldom neces-
sary. Most travellers, instead of using canvas, fill the ruts
with broken twigs, brush, stones, or anything else available
when they get stuck, but unfortunately the brush is usually
thinnest where the sand is thickest. There are various
devices on the market for pulling out automobiles which
get stuck, and one of these may be a valuable part of the
equipment.

Pee surplus of water over probable needs of men
and automobiles should be provided. Oil and gasoline more
than enough for probable needs should be taken, and it
should be remembered that desert roads may require twice
as much per mile as pavement.

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