Morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven [Conn.]) 1848-1894, 1891-07-27

Downie B. L p. company, as he pointed TO
strange overflow of the Colorado desert.
''Some years ago I was down In that coun-
try looking for borax deposits and anything
else that promised q commercial venture.
This little summer-clothing weather would
have been considered sherry oobbler and
two straws in that climate, snd the wa
ter wasn't good enough to mix with whisky.
Well, of course got lost. That's the prop
er thing to do in that region, and didn't
wish to break over the rules. left camp
with d friend, who pretended he knew All
the earmarks of the suffering land, and put
of for a little valley, where an Indian told
us there was heap stuff like ashes on the
ground. Ny friend was Just plain, four
round exhibition liar. He couldn't have
found his way If the land had been laid of
with guideposts. His horse broke a leg
and We turned for camp. We didn't get
there. Wswent up and We went down.
Then we did the regulation trick of going
in q circle and came back to his dead horse.
Our water, grub, strength and spirits gave
out at the same time. Our tongues swelled.
So did our feet.
"Then a couple of Indians doomed up.
They didn't have much to eat, but one of
them was carrying about with him pick
and shovel. They said they could take us
back to camp in five hours. That was all
very nice, but how We're we to get therei
One of the horses was dead. Mine WAS
beaten out and had to be abandoned. We
| couldn't walk and were actually dying of
thirst and exhaustion.
"'Why you no catchum fishF asked ons
of the Indians
'fNow that was question to put TO q
dying man on the Colorado desert, miles
| away from water thought / had lost my
| mind, o. the Indian had. Ny friend
laughed a dry, blub-a-lub through his
thick tongue. He thought it was a joke.
| and he'd laugh at joke if the arch fiend
| were broiling his soul on q fork. But it
was no joke to the Indians. Work is never
| joke to them, and to catch fish in the
middle of the Colorado desert means work.
| One of them took the pick, the other the
shovel, and selecting spot with much
| care, they began to dig a hole in the
ground. 1t was just as easy for us to look
| on and say nothing as to ask why, and a
| sight easier than it was to swear. So we
/ sat still and biistered. They dug through
| the sand and then through the earth packed
| and baked almost as hard as a brick wall.
Next they struck more sand and then gra-
vel-damp gravel.
| "They must have been down a dozen
feet or more when one of them grunted,
stopped, and chucked out Tapping, wig
Cling fish, Yes, sir, fish: and trout at
4 that-a true salmo fontanalis. Then in less
than ten minutes they had cup of pure
| water and another trout. Now, that may
| sound as comprehensive as statement of
| newspaper circulation, but its the living
truth. 1 knew, of course, that trout live
| for years in the wet gravel-every fool
knows that; but 1 hadn't any idea that a
man could go fishing with pick and
| shovel in the middle of the Colorado de-
l sert.
"Now, this overflow business explains it
| all. There's an underground lake there
| and when occasion fits it bobs up serenely
| from below-just like geysers, which gen
orally have their periods of spouting.
| And you can wager your life that I'll be
down there next week with my five ounce
| Leonard; for mark my word, there'n be
| great trout-fshing on the Colorado bottom
| during the damp spell"