1902 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



289 



But the temperature I I never suiYered 

 from the heat in all my life as I did in that 

 desert bowl. The passengers seemed to 

 consider comfort beyond conventional deco- 

 rum. We pulled off our coats and vests, and 

 still the heat was insufferable, and the 

 sweat oozed from every pore — not the pro- 

 fuse perspiration that we experience in 

 damp countries, but a very slig-ht thin 

 moisture all over the surface of the bodj'. 

 On we sped until we reached Salton, a ver- 

 itable oasis — indeed, a little town on the 

 west edge of the basin, and where, it seem- 

 ed to me, there was no chance for any pop- 

 ulation to exist. But here is, nevertheless, 

 quite a respectable town, and all because 

 of water which is obtained from the moun- 

 tain-sides. 



But before we go further on the trip let us 

 make some observations about the desert 

 out of which we have just come. This 

 bowl, or seabed, which is 300 feet below 

 the level of the sea, was originally, accord- 

 ing to geologists, a part of the sea, and 

 probablv' had direct connection with the 

 Gulf of California. It appears that the 

 Colorado River has queer freaks, and every 

 once in a while it overflows its banks, and 

 sometimes the entire country. In one of 

 these freaks it is supposed it changed its 

 course, flooded the country, closed up the 

 old outlet by carrying sands and silts, and 

 shutting oft' the connection to the Pacific 

 itself, leaving an inland body of water. As 

 the water was very shallow, the intense 

 heat evaporated it, leaving a great many 

 little basins here and there. But the larg- 

 est and most wonderful one of all is this 

 one of the Salton seabed. Travelers tell 

 us that the old shore-line is very clearly de- 

 fined; that there are evidences that the In- 

 dians once lived on these shores, that there 

 are crude relics of their handiwork scatter- 

 ed all along. 



In this Salton bed nothing will grow. 

 Wood will not rot; iron will not rust; a car- 

 cass will not decay. Ever}' thing is parch- 

 ed by the sun. I have seen no estimate or 

 figures as to what the temperature may be 

 out in the open; but I will guarantee it is 

 hot enough to fry eggs up to the queen's 

 taste. 



I learn that a gigantic enterprise is now 

 on foot to reclaim the Colorado Desert (of 

 which this old seabed is a small part) in 

 Southeastern California. It is proposed to 

 divert the Colorado River into its old bed 

 and make a large area, of about 100 or 150 

 miles square, into a garden of Eden, or 

 like the other portions of California where 

 tropical fruits are grown. But a note of 

 warning is sounded by some who have giv- 

 en this matter no little attention. It is ar- 

 gued that these deserts in and about Cali- 

 fornia serve a very useful purpose in giving 

 the necessary heat to those localities that 

 are now under cultivation. The sun's rays 

 pour down on these desert sands with re- 

 lentless fury. The heat is thus stored up 

 in Mother Earth. The wind wafts it over 

 the mountains into the valleys that are un- 



der cultivation. The contention is that, if 

 the Colorado River is changed back to its 

 old bed and the Colorado Desert is convert- 

 ed over into fertile plains, growing all kinds 

 of fruits and grains, then this immense fur- 

 nace or storage battery of heat will fail to 

 give oft' its supply of dry hot air so needful 

 to the growing districts of other parts of 

 Southern California. 



There is no doubt at all that the all-wise 

 Creator has arranged the mountains and 

 the deserts, the lakes and the seas, just 

 where it is best. Man had better not, per- 

 haps, go too far with his irrigation schemes, 

 else he may kill the goose that lays the 

 golden egg. But we will not moralize on 

 this question. No human being, at least, 

 can tell what the result will be. Some au- 

 thorities seem to think that man will not be 

 able to carry out this great scheme; that 

 Nature, having a plan of her own, will 

 thwart his eftorts. We shall see. 



FKANK M'NAY AT HOME. 



We now leave Salton, with its great heat, 

 and pass onward into the higher lands be- 

 tween the mountains. We realize, by the 

 puffing and snorting of the locomotive, that 

 we are climbing onward and upward. The 

 mountains on either side of the Southern 

 Pacific tower up in peaks 10,000 feet high, 

 and aftord quite a change of scenery from 

 the bed of the sea from which we have just 

 emerged. The temperature begins to drop. 

 We find it comfortable to put on our vests 

 again, and then our coats; and it is not 

 long before I begin to realize the need of my 

 overcoat — a useless thing which I have lug- 

 ged 2000 miles all for naught — Dr at least I 

 thought so up to this time. The air begins 



