SHIPS OF THE DESERT
An account of the desert which omitted to make mention of the burro
would be woefully incomplete. The burro has been one of the most
important factors in desert exploration and development. He is far more
sagacious and enduring than the horse or mule. He is to the American
desert what the camel is to the deserts of the Eastern hemisphere.
Few persons are aware that camels were once used upon the American
deserts, but such are the facts. Ten years after the Pathfinder,
General John C. Fremont, crossed the desert and traversed the Golden
State, and four years after Marshall had thrilled the world with his
discovery of gold in Northern California, Jefferson Davis, Secretary of
State under President Pierce, consigned to Mr. L. P. Redwine, of Los
Angeles, a lot of camels, to be used in transporting supplies to
Government posts located in the arid regions. The camels were
delivered to Mr. Redwine, at Los Angeles, in 1853, and one of his first
assignments was the transporting of a lot of supplies to the troops
stationed at Fort Mojave at the eastern confines of the Great Mojave
Desert.
Then, as now, a tribe of Indians dwelt in the vicinity of the fort,
but, unlike the present time, they were hostile to whites, and
unprotected parties fared but poorly at their hands. Redwine had
completed the greater part of his journey to the fort when his caravan
wound around the foot of a clump of hills and came unexpectedly upon an
encampment of Mojave Indians. It is doubtful which party was the more
surprised, the Indians at the sight of the strange cavalcade, or the
whites at witnessing the frantic efforts of the redskins to put space
between themselves and the approaching caravan. The sight of the camels
was too much for them. It was the most complete rout in the history of
the frontier.
A little later, when the caravan reached the fort, there was another
surprise. The horses and mules corraled near the fort proved as timid
as the Indians, and a general stampede ensued. The corral was broken
down, and it took the soldiers several days to gather in the scattered
herd. The camels forthwith became objects of hatred to the bluecoats.
[Illustration: THE ADVANCE AGENT OF PROGRESS
From photograph by C. C. Pierce & Co.]
As a means of transportation the camels were a success. The heat and
drought and sands of the desert were as naught to them, and they throve
on hardships that would have proven fatal to horses or mules, but their
approach to a military post was a signal for a stampede of the stock,
and the camels were marked for destruction. Every now and then, as
opportunity offered, the soldiers would shoot down one or more of the
camels till their numbers were so reduced that there were not enough
for a caravan. Then the remnant of the herd was turned loose in the
desert, to live or die as might happen. True to instinct, the liberated
animals sought an oasis, and there they began to multiply. Later,
however, hunters shot them for sport, and, so far as is now known, they
have become extinct.
Redwine, the man who introduced the camels to the deserts of
California, closed his earthly career in the desert town of Imperial in
July, 1902. Much of Mr. Redwine's life was spent in the deserts of the
great West, and this region of mystery, so terrifying to most men,
seemed to possess for him a peculiar charm, and when the desert city of
Imperial was started he left his comfortable home in Phoenix,
Arizona, to take part in the founding of this town.
When the camel project came to an end, the burro came to the front and
has since held the foremost place as a means of desert transportation
in localities not reached by the railroads.
The burro is a native of Spain, and he came to America at the time of
the Spanish conquest. He carried the accoutrements of Cortez through
Mexico and into the Montezumian capital. He was with De Soto when he
journeyed into the heart of the American continent. De Balboa was
indebted to him for the opportunity to discover the greatest of oceans.
The padres who planted the chain of missions through Mexico, and who
three hundred and fifty years ago reared the walls of the mission of
San Xavier del Bac, in Arizona, had the assistance of the burro. The
Franciscan fathers, who more than a century ago dotted the coast of
California with another chain of missions, depended upon the burro for
aid, and he did not disappoint them. And so for more than three
centuries he has been in the procession of progress and has marched at
its head.
[Illustration: SHIPS OF THE DESERT
From photograph by C. C. Pierce & Co.]
The fortunes of the Spaniard have fluctuated, but the burro has known
no rise nor fall in his prospects. He came as a beast of burden, and as
such he has remained. It is all one with him--Spain or America. If he
has a little to eat, a few hours for slumber, and is not too heavily
burdened, he will patiently and contentedly perform his work and offer
no complaint.
He clambers up the mountain trail where the horse could find no
footing, carrying upon his back twice his own weight, and he picks his
way along the brow of the mountain or the edge of mighty precipices as
unconcernedly as though he were treading the pavement of a boulevard or
the soft turf of green meadows. If his owner places too heavy a load
upon him he makes no complaint. Not he! He simply lies down till the
burden is made lighter. There is no arguing the question with him. He
is indifferent alike to blows and pleadings. Not an inch will he stir
till matters are adjusted. He knows his capacity, and his load must
conform to it.
Few mines have been discovered in the mountainous or desert regions of
the West without the assistance of the burro. The steel tracks of the
locomotive which wind in and out of the cañons and passes and over the
mountains were led thither by the burro. The explorer has thrown the
burden of his efforts upon him, and the prospector deems him
indispensable. He is the veritable "ship" of the western desert, and
many a man owes his life to his burro. He will live longer without
water and scent it farther than any known animal save the camel.
As an example of the keen scent of the burro for water may be related
the experience of two prospectors named Peterson and Kelley, who a few
years ago attempted to cross the Great Mojave Desert on foot. They had
with them, to carry their supplies, a burro. In passing from oasis to
oasis they lost their way and the supply of water became exhausted. To
be lost in the desert is a terrible thing, and the anxiety, coupled
with the torturing thirst and the intense heat, drove Peterson insane.
He left his companion and fled shrieking across the plain. Kelley
picketed the burro and went after Peterson to bring him back, but he
was unable to overtake him. He returned to the trail to find that his
burro had broken his tether and was moving across the desert at a
leisurely pace. He followed, but the animal was so far in the lead, and
he was so exhausted from his efforts to overtake Peterson, that he
could not come up to him.
[Illustration: BEARING THE REDMAN'S BURDEN
From photograph by C. C. Pierce & Co.]
Night came upon him, and it soon became so dark that he could not
distinguish the burro and he had to follow him by the footprints in the
sand. When it became too dark to distinguish them he still staggered on
in sheer desperation.
By and by his heart gave a great throb. Before him, outlined against
the sky and seemingly suspended in the air, was a form which he knew to
be either his burro or an apparition. He hurried forward and lo!
standing upon a sharp rise of ground and facing him was his lost burro,
who seemed to be awaiting him for a purpose, for when he came up to him
the animal turned and led the way down the incline to a spring of
living water.
Kelley gave a shout of joy and plunged bodily into the spring. After he
had soaked his parched skin and moistened his lips and throat, he
crawled out and went to his burro, which was browsing upon the green
herbs growing about the place. Throwing his arms about the neck of the
animal he gave the creature a hearty hug and a kiss. If this mark of
affection surprised or touched the burro he made no sign. He merely
nipped another mouthful of the herbage and continued chewing.
When Kelley had taken a fresh supply of water he retraced his steps to
the point where the burro had broken away. It was fully ten miles.
There is no doubt but the animal had scented the water all that
distance, and his eagerness to get to it had led him to strain at his
fastenings till he broke loose. Poor Peterson did not survive. Kelley
found his dead body the next morning four or five miles from the point
where he had left the trail.
The burro draws no color line. He affiliates as readily with the
Mexican and the Indian as he does with the whites. The desert tribes
have little success with horses, and even the rugged bronchos cannot
endure the heat and thirst incident to life in that region, but the
burro is as much at home and seemingly as contented there as are his
brethren who live and labor in the alfalfa meadows of the fertile belt.
The burro is never vicious. Unlike his cousin, the mule, he knows no
guile. As a playmate for children he has no rival. He humors them,
bears with them, and lets them work their own sweet wills with him. He
requires little care, asks little to eat, and seems simply to crave
existence.
[Illustration: TAKING ON THE CARGO
From photograph by C. C. Pierce & Co.]
Let the artist in search of a model for contentment go to the burro.
There he will find contentment personified.
He does not sigh and moan that he, alas,
Is but a mongrel, neither horse nor ass.
Content that being neither, he may do
His work and live as nature meant him to.