Geographic Nomenclature. 2TT 
Mr. Tuomrson: I hardly know how I came to be brought 
into this discussion. The Secretary caught me in his net unawares 
and unprepared. I do not propose to trespass long on your time, 
nor do I suppose I shall add anything to a philosophical discus- 
sion of geographic nomenclature. I only wish to call your at- 
tention to a few principles that obviously should be followed in 
the selection of new geographic names and to show some absur- 
dities and difficulties which are liable to occur if the sentiment in 
favor of Indian nomenclature is allowed full liberty. A geo- 
graphic name should be short, euphonic, pronounced as spelled, 
and have a meaning or express some sentiment to help fix it in 
the memory. Especially should these principles govern when 
we consider that in childhood, in our school-days, we obtain by 
far the greater portion of our geographic knowledge. 
The old Spanish explorers followed these rules largely in their 
geographic nomenclature, and although “Saint” and “Sierra” 
occur with alarming frequency, there is always some reason for 
the appellation ; either they saw a line of peaks cut the horizon 
or the christening occurred on the natal day of the holy martyr. 
“Rio Dolores” and “Las Animas” are certainly better than 
“Sorrow Creek” or “Soul Wash,” and even “ Purgatoire ”— 
though the Colorado cow-boy corrupts it into “ Picket Wire ”— 
is better than “ Cottonwood Creek.” 
Some Indian names are very expressive, characterizing topo- 
graphic features. In northern Arizona is a steep volcanic neck 
or needle, its sharp sides rising in one step twelve hundred feet 
above the surrounding country. From the base of this pinnacle, 
two long lava dykes stretch on either hand in a gentle curve 
across the mesa. ‘The resemblance to the spreading wings of a 
bird is striking, and the Navajo Indian calls the rock “ A-ga- 
thla ”—the “ Flying Bird.” A name well worthy, it seems to me, 
of being placed on the maps of that region, as it is on the one I 
hold in my hand. But on the same map, close along side, is “ Te- 
ze-ba-a-kit Lake,” a barbarous appellation—unspellable, unpro- 
nounceable and unlovely. Nor can I say less in denunciation of 
“ Zilh-le-ji-ni Mesa ”—a name that needs intimate acquaintance 
with wigwam smoke and Navajo gutturals to handle lingually. 
But what shall we say of ‘“ Boo-koo-dot-klish Cafion ;” the Navajo 
name for what the white man calls with better propriety, it seems 
to me, for our maps, “Bluestone Wash.”  “'To-go-hol-tas-e 
Spring” could hardly be worse in English. And here is “Sa- 
VOL. II. 19 
