The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1894-07-04
A LEVEL OF GRAY DEATH"
HORRORS OF THE DESERT OF THE
CoCOPAHS IN LOWER CALIFORNIA.
Ii Is Only Ninety Miles Wide, But Few
Men Have Crossed 1t and Lived-Its
BIisterinG Sands and Searching
Hcat-SOme of Its Recent Victims.

ton of the globe than the desert of the
Cocopahs, but if so, the place is undis-
covered. God may have wrought place
more terrible than this same desert, but
it is unmarked by the trail of mortal.
A desert from which Dante might have
added to the horrors of his 'Tnferno;" a
level of gray death. feared by man and
forgotten by its creator; a region sepa-
rated from the seething cauldrons below
by thin crust of baked sand, through
which the fumes and heat from the un-
quenchable fires below seem plainly APP
parent Surely
God must have made it in his anger and
forgot.
Yearly, since the occupation, that
desert has claimed its victims, singly and
in groups-sacrificial offerings to that
great yellow god, gold. which is said to
be hidden in its sun-baked. barren hills.
Yearly, since the Argonauts drifted south
from the golG flelds of central California,
men have started for the Cocopahs, but
only piUiful few have ever returned.
Back of that time there is no record save
that written on the shifting changing
sands. which alternately expose and con-
ceal bleached bones, glistening CHASTITY
white against the dead gray plain. The
number must be legion. as ii is the same
now as when. 800 years ago, its scOrch-
ing, whitening heat drove back TO the
gulf shores those hardy Spanish explor-
ers under Coronado, on their search for
the seven famed cities of CibOla."
But where is this fearful spot? Look
on your map; find Campo. little trad
ing post in the mountains of southern
California, on the Mexican border and
about sixty miles back from the coast
line of the Pacific. Thirty miles south
of Campo, as an initial point, run a line
east of south. 100 miles until it touches
the gulf coast. Between that line and
the gulf lies the desert of the COcOpahs,
a territory about one hundred miles
square, but almost as little known the
interior of Africa. An innOcent-lOolIing
little spot on the map, hut on the surfa &c
of what it represents lie the mummified
shapes of bleaching bones Of hundreds
of men. You will note that il is not
marked with the ZigZag lines which
usually denote the location of canyons
or water-cOurses, nor the shaded lines
representing mountains. Why? Simply
because. as yet, there has been found no
corps of engineers with sufficient hardi-
hood to attempt its survey.
Worst Part of the Desert.
Standing on the initial point from
which you have drawn the line. say at
the spring in the Canyada de las Palmas,
and, looking eastward. you may see the
outlines of a low range of mountains
distant, with water, sixty, possibly nine
~ miles; without water eternity inter-
VeEeS between you and that range of
hills rising darkly purple through the
shimmering heat That stretch of sixty
or ninety miles is the worst part of the
CocOpah desert; wide reach of arid,
sterile, sandy plain, lying below the
level of the sea. absolutely devoid of ami
NAL life and with no vegetation, save
here and there a stunted cactus. Too
hot and dry for even the lizard and
horned toad, the heat radiates from the
sand and rocks with scorching effect,
blistering the skin and sapping ones vi
tally.
For a trip across the Cocopah desert
proper you fill your canteens at the
spring in the Canyada de las Palmas,
then by a gradual descent down the can
yon, the heat noticeably increasing as
you descend, you pass out from the cool
ing shades of the towering Sierra Madres
in that veritable valley of death" If
you are inexperienced, a "tenderfoot."
never attempt the trip without a guide,
and not then between the months of
April and October. An Indian will pilot
you across for a few dollars, or you may
fall in with some old prospector. If so.
his first question will be with reference
to your facilities for carrying water.
There are no landmarks by which to
shape your course, so a guide Is an alb
solute necessity. Here and there about
the plain are sand dunes, varying in
hight from little hillOcks to sixty feet or
more. Lay your course by even the tall
est of these and you are lost. for in a
few hours it may have entirely disap-
peared only to be rebuilded by the wind
at right angles to your course several
miles away. If you are alone and mex
perienced your only infaliible guides will
be the sun and stars; if these are OBJ
scured camp and wait until they reap
pear, if your water supply will permit;
if not, then push on through that scorch-
ing sand-and may the Lord take pity
on you. If you are experienced the
rocks and the cactus bushes will tell you
which is north and which is south.
Death from Thirst.
People of the East, where limpid
streams of wholesome water cross ones
trail at frequent intervals, have no con-
ception of the horrors of desert thirst,
of that deathly faintness that comes over
one when. miles away from water, he
finds that his canteen is empty; of the
madness which follows in few hours;
Of the shriveled lungs and parched
throat; of the cracked, swollen, blackene6
and protruding tongue, the starting eye
balls burned 10 fiery red; of the tantal-
izing visions of CLASSY lakes between
banks of mOssy green, and the tinkling
of icy water tumbling over powders in
imaginary canyons just beyond; of the
maddened frenzy with which he tears
the clothing from his body and runs
naked over the blistering sands; of the
frantic endeavor to dig, with torn and
bleeding fingers, for water; of that last
hoarse cry on the desert stiffness to a
God that hears him not. / have seen
the blackened. withered shapes of men
who have died from thirst, and the sight
was enough TO raise ones gorge. Occa-
sionally men who realize what death
from thirst, alone on the desert, means,
save themselves the attendant suffering
and maddening horrors by ending all
with a bullet. In that event, when you
find the shape, look we'll for little heap
Of stones, for under il you will find the
name and address of it, with the request
that the personal belongings be forward
on reaching civilization.
Opinions differ as to the length Of time
a man can go without water in that
desert inferno and retain his reason, but
the maximum limit for one unused to
desert travel is eight hours. know of
two leather-lunged old prospectOrs who
were thirty-six hours without water. and
yet had sufficient sense and strength to
follow their old bell burro, whose ami
NAL instinct led them to waterhOle
hitherto unknown. Personally, 1 have
gone twenty-four hours without water,
and then slaked my burning thirst in
hot. muddy, alkaH seep water that had
collected in a bears track, and, although
had to fight with a big, black mountain
RATHER for the coveted draught, it was
the sweetest / ever quaffed.