The Deserts of Nevada 



491 



sistance to one in search of water. Hu- 

 mans use many devices — usually heaps 

 of stones or cairns or small sticks placed 

 as pointers ; these may be of great com- 

 fort or encouragement, though if the tank 

 proves dried up, or to have been emptied 

 by some wandering prospector to save 

 his burros and fill his canteen, much dis- 

 tress and anxiety may follow. 



From the Cane Spring we turn west- 

 ward, and the Grapevine Range before 

 us rises 3,000 feet from the Amargosa 

 Desert — a great sand dune, long a land- 

 mark to the traveler from Ash Meadows 

 to Beatty Ranch — stands in the desert, 

 which has heretofore claimed more than 

 one victim. Before turning our faces 

 toward Death Valley we proceed across 

 the sloping plane to Bullfrog to replenish 

 our food, overhaul our outfit, tighten 

 water barrels, repair canteens, and ar- 

 range for forage which is to be hauled to 

 us. 



The towns of Bullfrog and Rhyolite 

 are practically one, while Beatty is four 

 miles east. The latter is situated on the 

 Amargosa River, a small stream, but 

 usually one has to dig to find it. I can 

 give no figures as to population, for 

 die inhabitants in most camps are a 

 drifting lot — there may be many hun- 

 dred, even a few thousand, one day, and 

 soon afterward but a handful, as new 

 strikes are made in outlying districts. At 

 Bullfrog we find rendezvous camp which 

 has been brought from Goldfield ; as we 

 pass up the street we find the omnipresent 

 tent, a few adobes, and one house built of 

 beer bottles set in mud. (These mate- 

 rials are the only inexpensive ones to be 

 had.) At the head of the street rises 

 Busch Mountain, one of the many peaks 

 surrounding the camp, its sides scarred 

 with the waste from prospect holes. One 

 of our first experiences is to take a swim 

 in a tank of goodly proportions fed by 

 clear green water brought many miles in 

 pipes. It is useless to try to express the 

 joy and delight which comes in sporting 

 and romping in the water, while parched 

 bodies absorb the fluid until we are ex- 

 hilarated as bv a strong stimulant. It is 



our first wetting in — I blush to say how 

 long ! At Beatty we find a modern hotel 

 with a wonderful variety of refreshment, 

 solid and fluid, served to a nicety, includ- 

 ing hammered-brass finger bowls, by 

 men in conventional black evening 

 clothes. 



We look southward across the Amar- 

 gosa Desert, stretching farther and far- 

 ther until lost in the blue and amber of 

 miles of heat with glittering sand and 

 mud flats, flanked by the Bare and the 

 Grapevine ranges, with the high peaks of 

 the Funeral Range appearing beyond. 



From Bullfrog the route lies across an 

 extension of the Amargosa Desert to the 

 Grapevine Range, to reach which we pass 

 from arid Nevada into California, which 

 here is hardly so luxuriant in foliage as 

 its reputation might lead a stranger to 

 anticipate, and at a boundary-line post set 

 up for work. 



THE DEATH VALLEY 



Twelve miles southwest camp is made 

 at the Daylight Springs, on the crest of 

 the divide between the Amargosa Desert 

 and Death Valley. We journey to one 

 of the high peaks of the Grapevine and 

 look into the "Valley of the Shadow of 

 Death," as desolate a view as may be 

 found. 



In the distance the Telescope Range 

 rises to an elevation of nearly 11,000 feet, 

 while at our feet the salt-white plain is 

 more than 6,000 feet below us and well 

 below sea-level. The flat is 25 miles 

 away, and on its borders not a vestige of 

 vegetation appears. The valley was 

 named Death Valley from the loss of 

 members of parties of emigrants who at- 

 tempted to pass through it in 1849, an d 

 since then a number of persons have been 

 lost, keeping up the sinister record as a 

 graveyard, but the appalling stories of the 

 number of persons perishing there each 

 year are exaggerated. It is not safe to 

 go into Death Valley for active work 

 during July, August, and September, 

 though there are persons who remain 

 there all summer; but in October we 

 journey from Daylight Spring down hill, 



