Chapter V: Humanity in the Desert

Why human beings should have chosen such a place as the desert for their habitation is a mystery without a solution. Possibly the forefathers of the present dwellers of the region fled thither to escape the oppression of tribes more powerful and war-like than their own. Be that as it may, there dwell in the Great Mojave and in the Colorado deserts several tribes of men who, according to their traditions, have made their home there many centuries.

Up in the Death Valley region is a tribe known as the Panamint Indians. They live in rude huts built of sticks and mud, and they subsist upon the most disgusting of foods. At a certain season of the year Owen's Lake and several smaller saline lakes in that region abound with a white grub--the larva of a two-winged fly, _ephydra Californica_--called by the Indians "Koochabee." The Indians visit the lakes at the season of the year when the grub is most plentiful, and from the shores of the lakes they gather them where the waves throw them up in windrows several inches deep. The grubs are dried and are then pulverized in rude stone mortars. The powder is used in making a sort of bread which is highly prized as an article of food.

Snakes and lizards are also cooked and eaten by the Panamints, and their vegetable diet consists chiefly of leaves and buds of cactus plants and other wild herbs. They are not agriculturists and are but indifferent hunters. They seem contented with their lot and evince no desire to leave the desert for a more habitable region.

The Seri Indians are found at the extreme southern portion of the desert. At one time there were considerable numbers of them in the Colorado Desert, but in 1779 the Mexican Government, then in possession of the territory, removed them to the island of Tiburon, where the greater number now live. A few families are to be found, however, in the vicinity of the "Volcanoes" in the Colorado Desert.

The Seri Indians are unreasoning, treacherous, and indolent. The women of the tribe command great respect from the men, and the family relationship is always traced through the mother. In the language or dialect of the tribe there is no equivalent to the word "father," although there is for "mother." Little attention is paid to the death of a male member of the tribe, but when a woman dies the funeral ceremonies are elaborate.

The Cocopahs are another banished tribe, now occupying the desert region south of the boundary line between the United States and Mexico.

Not many years ago their chief village was a few miles from Yuma, which town was their trading-post. Smallpox broke out in the Indian village, but the Indians continued to visit Yuma and soon carried the disease thither. When the authorities learned the source of the infection they forbade the Indians to come to the town, and to insure obedience to the command, a mounted guard was placed about the Indian village. Two Indians one day eluded the guards and walked into Yuma. Then the edict of banishment went forth. The Indians were driven from their homes and across the border into Mexico, and the village and all effects left behind became food for the flames.

The Cocopahs, as a rule, are of fine physique, hardy, and nimble, but like all desert tribes they are unprogressive.

A peculiar burial custom prevails among these Indians. As a rule they wear their hair long--a custom with all of the Western tribes--but upon the death of a relative it is cut. If the deceased was a distant relative the hair is but slightly shortened. If a very near relative it is cut close to the head. The nearness of kinship is easily determined by the length of hair of the mourners.

A still more curious custom prevails in connection with the marriage ceremony. Before a Cocopah girl may become a bride she must be buried over night in the earth.

A hole is first dug in the sand deep enough to admit her in a sitting posture. Then a fire is built in the pit and is made to burn till the earth is thoroughly warmed. It is then extinguished, and the bride enters the grave and is buried to the neck in the earth. Here she remains till the morning, when she is ready for the marriage ceremony.

Occupying the region between these dwellers of the extreme southern portion of the desert and the tribe first described are the Mojave Indians and the Yumas. The Indians of these tribes are of good stature, but they are dull, coarse, and unprogressive. They live in rude huts, curiously constructed of twigs, stones, and mud. The occupation of the men consists in an occasional visit to the fertile country in search of game, or to the mountains in search of turquoise, a gem much prized by nearly all the Indian tribes. The women make baskets and toys, blankets, and beaded ornaments to sell to curio dealers, whose agents make frequent visits among them to gather up these articles.

They live upon fish taken from the Colorado River, game taken in their occasional hunting excursions, and upon dishes prepared from cacti. A sort of government is maintained. They have their chiefs and medicine men, the latter being second in power and importance. The medicine men practice the healing art, depending more upon mysterious rites and incantations than upon herbs and medicines for their cures. Among the Indians of the northern desert it is the custom, as it is with some other Western tribes, to execute the medicine man when he shall have lost his third patient.

The Chemehuevi Indians are also desert-dwellers. They depend chiefly upon nature to supply them with food and other necessities. The desert cactus furnishes a large proportion of their food. The fibers of the plants are woven into a coarse cloth, which gives them clothing, and mud and sticks form the material for their houses. Like the other desert tribes, they know of no more desirable spot for an abiding-place; and no greater sorrow could come to them than to be told that they were to be transported to a land of "green fields and running brooks." The desert is their home. They know its peculiarities and its mysteries; it keeps them and lets them live, and they love it. Why should they long for that which is strange, and for which their natures are not adapted?