Chapter III: Curious Plants Which Live in the Desert

In the mystic mid-region grows vegetation as weird and wonderful as the region which it inhabits. The Mojave yucca (_clistoyucca arborescens_) is a strange freak of vegetation found nowhere else in the world. The palo-verde stands grim and sentinel-like, along the banks of the Colorado River which skirts the deserts, an evergreen but leafless tree with curious branches which cross and recross each other, forming a perfect network of green vegetation. Cacti in innumerable variety abound in certain portions of the deserts, from the tiny prickly balls covered with long gray hairs to the giant sahuaro which attains a height of fifty feet. In some places the deer-bush thrives: this plant is so named because of the resemblance borne by its branches to the horns of a deer. There are also sage, mesquite, chaparral, and greasewood, and numbers of other peculiar species of plants.

Cacti are the most numerous of the species of vegetable life. The several varieties all have their uses to those versed in the lore of the desert. In them the Indians, who make the desert their home, find food, drink, raiment, and shelter. This is particularly true of the _cereus giganteus_, which is abundant in the arid regions of Southern Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, and Mexico. This plant grows, in many cases, to a height of fifty feet. In some sections it grows so thickly that several hundred plants are found on a single acre. The plant consists of a main trunk which rises to a height of from ten to twenty feet, and then branches into two, three, or several columns, which grow upright several feet. The main trunk and branches are ribbed, and these ribs are thickly studded with clusters of heavy spines, which if lighted will burn readily, the flame running up the ribbed columns, seeking and burning all the spines thereon. This fact has given rise to the name of "Arizona candle" which is often applied to the giant cactus.

Alternating with the spiny ribs, and just beneath the epidermis, are ligneous fascicles--one for each rib--which serve as a support for the soft tissues which constitute the bulk of the plant. These fascicles are from twenty to forty feet long, according to the height of the plant, and are from one to three inches in diameter. They constitute the framework or skeleton of the plant, and are left standing when the plant itself dies from age or other cause. This frame is of great value to the desert Indians or to desert travelers who know its properties. The fascicles make excellent firewood, and when cut into required lengths they are used as pickets with which to build corrals, and for the roofs to the adobe huts. The spines of the plant are also used by the Indians as combs. The plant lives to be more than one hundred and fifty years old, as has been determined by counting the layers of growth.

The first flowers appear when the plant has attained a height of eight or ten feet, and they come into bloom early in May and continue in blossom till near the middle of June. The blossoms are large, white, and waxy. The flowers are borne in the axils of the bunches of spines, often fifty or more blossoms in the summit of a single branch. It comes to fruit in August, and then it is that the Indians ride from plant to plant and with long poles detach the fruit, which is gathered and preserved as food or is made into an intoxicating drink of which they are very fond.

Another plant, a species of yucca, abundant in the southern deserts, is the Spanish bayonet. These plants have a thick, palm-like stem or trunk with long, thick, spine-pointed leaves. The flowering stem shoots up many feet in height and bears myriads of white, showy, panicled flowers, lily-like in appearance. As many as six thousand blossoms have been observed upon a single plant.

An interesting peculiarity of this plant is that it cannot pollenize itself, but is obliged to depend for its perpetuity upon a little moth whose sole aim in life seems to be to perform the work of pollenizing this plant. This moth does not eat the honey or pollen of the plant, but lays her eggs upon the stigma of the flower and then gathers the pollen of the blossom and deposits it over the eggs, thus protecting the eggs and pollenizing the plant at the same time. The larvæ hatch at the time that the flower goes into seed, and the grubs feast upon the seeds, destroying a part of them, but leaving enough to keep up the supply of plants.

The Indians eat the undeveloped flower-shoots of this plant raw, the stalks are roasted over hot stones and make a very palatable dish; the fruit, which is cylindrical and yellow, ripening in August and September, is eaten raw, and is also dried for future use. It is pulpy, sweet, and nourishing.

The Mojave yucca is a remarkable plant, which resembles in its nature both the cactus and the palm. It is found nowhere save in the Mojave Desert. It attains a height of thirty or forty feet, and the trunk, often two or three feet in diameter, supports half a dozen irregular branches, each tipped with a cluster of spine-like leaves. The flowers, which are of a dingy white color, come out in March and last till May, giving off a disagreeable odor. The fruit, however, which is two or three inches long, is pulpy and agreeable, resembling a date in flavor.

From the base of the plant radiate countless roots. These lie near the surface and extend a long distance, absorbing such moisture as they find with avidity. One of the peculiarities of the yucca wood is its ability to store moisture. The fiber of the wood is cellular, and it is almost equal to a sponge in its capacity for storing and retaining water. Fully sixty per cent. of its weight is sap.

The trunk and branches of the tree are covered, a portion of the time, with bristling reflex leaves, which finally fall, showing that bark has been added to the tree. A sectional view of this bark shows concentric rings such as characterize exogenous stems. As the yucca is an endogen, this peculiarity is a remarkable one.

Like its cousin, the sahuaro, the Mojave yucca is a friend to the Indians, who eat of the fruit when fresh, and dry it to be used when it is out of season. They also utilize the flower-buds and blossoms in preparing a stew, which, if not tempting to the appetite, is at least nourishing, and with them that is the main object of food. The seeds, when dried, are ground in rude mortars and used for mush and in making a sort of bread.

In the middle and northern desert, where the cacti are not so plentiful, there grows the _Allenrolpea occidentalis_, or greasewood. This shrub grows to the height of four or five feet, and is a leafless, jointed-branched plant, which appears to be too succulent to burn unless plucked and left for days to dry. The reverse is the case, however, for, if lighted, the plant will make an excellent fire when green, but if cut for a few hours it becomes so watery that nothing can induce it to burn. Though the days on the desert are terrifically hot, the nights are apt to be chilly, and the greasewood often proves a most welcome friend to the traveler.

Another friend to the desert wanderer is the _chlorogalum pomeridianum_, or soap plant. This grows from two to five feet high and has a bulbous root two or more inches in thickness which is an excellent substitute for soap--hence its name. The leaves are from one to two and one half feet in length, and from an inch to an inch and a half in thickness. The plant flowers in July and August, the blossoms opening in the afternoon only. The bulb of the plant lies deep in the earth and has the power of storing moisture, in time of rain, for the long, dry months which follow.

As previously stated, the numbers of the cactus family to be found in various portions of the desert are almost innumerable. In a three-days' journey through the southern desert, taken early in May, the writer noted forty-two different varieties of cacti in blossom. These ranged from the delicate bloom of tiny plants to the gorgeous blossoms of the giant species, thirty, forty, and even fifty feet in height.

It was a most memorable trip. At no other season of the year does the desert present so gay an appearance as in May and early June. Blossoms, white, pink, yellow, purple, and scarlet, are to be seen on all sides, till one loses the idea that he is in the desert and almost dreams that he is in some wonderful garden. But there are no sparkling fountains and grassy lawns to complete the illusion; only the thorny shrubs with their vivid blossoms and the scorching sands, the dust, the thirst, and the cloudless sky above.

A very common species of cactus is the nopal or prickly-pear, the fruit of which is known as the tuna, and which is much prized both by Indians and by Mexicans.

A welcome plant to the desert traveler is the bisnaga, or "well of the desert." This is a cylindrical-shaped green plant thickly covered with sharp spines. By cutting out the center of the plant, a bowl is formed which quickly fills with water of an excellent quality, affording a palatable drink to the thirsty traveler. Many a life has been saved by these plants, and there have been a number of instances recorded where travelers, ignorant of the properties of the plant, have died of thirst in the midst of them.

Another cactus found in the southern desert is the grape cactus, which bears in clusters fruit resembling the tuna. The fruit is green without and purple within, is juicy, melting, and luscious.

A very common and ungainly plant is the ocotilla, growing clusters of straight poles from ten to fifteen feet in height, which are covered with spines. The poles terminate in long spikes of beautiful scarlet blossoms.

The maguey or mescal, sometimes misnamed the century plant, is common along the foothills bordering the desert. It is from this plant that the Mexicans and Indians distil the fiercely intoxicating drink known as mescal, which contains a large percentage of alcohol of a villainous quality.

From the cluster of spiked leaves, which attain a height of four or five feet, springs a pole ten to twelve feet tall, which bears large clusters of small yellow flowers filled with a sickishly sweet syrup. The maguey furnishes the native Indian with both food and clothing. From the fibers of the leaves he weaves coarse cloth, and the inner leaves, when stripped and cooked in the earth ovens by surrounding them with stones heated on coals, are considered a delicacy.

Snake-weed is the name given a low-growing plant with a pulpy leaf, because when the leaves are crushed and applied to the wound, in case of snake-bite, they serve as an antidote to the poison.

Pectis, or creosote bush, is another desert plant, with odor not unlike the essence of lemon. It is prized by the Indians for its medicinal properties.

There are a number of other varieties of plants--mostly of the cactus family--which contribute to the sustenance of the Indians of the desert, but it is in the fibrous tissues of the giant cactus and the yuccas that they find their material for the weaving of garments, plaiting ropes, and making baskets and other articles of use and ornament. Of late years the squaws of the several desert tribes have found the making of baskets and other trinkets for sale to curio hunters a very profitable undertaking. One squaw of the Mojave Indians received more than three thousand dollars in a single year for work of that sort.

And the desert, which flaunts the banner of death in the face of the stranger, hands out its treasures to its children, and they live and thrive and love it.

There is a little flower found growing in certain portions of California's deserts, which fulfills the poet's statement embodied in the couplet:

"Full many a flower is born to blush unseen
And waste its sweetness on the desert air."

The little yellow blossom has, so far as the writer knows, no name in the text-books on botany. It is a tiny blossom, growing very close to the ground, and it opens only at night. Then, whoso chances to pass through a patch of these flowers is treated to incense such as never exhaled from the most redolent orange orchard.

The perfume is given off in vast quantities, and is sweet beyond the power of language to describe, yet it is not the sickening, overpowering perfume of some plants.

One does not need to lift the flower to the face to get the fragrance,--the air is fairly saturated with the sweet odor. The daylight, however, puts an end to both blossom and perfume. There is not a sign of the blossom to be found when the morning sun lights up the desert plain. It is only the night traveler who is favored with the sweet experience arising from an acquaintance with this strange plant.