Chapter VIII: 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.