The Arizona sentinel., 1896-08-29
ABSOLUTELY PURE

In the Chuckawalla and Chocolate Mountains are many narrow, deep canyons, which at points are so situa- ted and fashoned by nature. and have such ample watersheds, that by build ing strong cemented dams, arched up- stream across the canyons, vast reser- voirs could be easily constructed. which would catch and impOund pro- digious bodies of water. have tried this scheme of impounding rain-water in a mo 1ntain reservoir, and predict the time is near when hundreds of minin Z camps, and ranches in the Colorado desert country will receive abundant water supply by gravity through pipes laid underground from the impounded lakes away up in the hills.
 To one who has not patiently exist ed for a while on the desert its impos- ible to convey by words any adequate notion of the climate Here, the wea ther is difficult subject which might baffle any practiced meteorologist, and make even Dante groan in the futil attempt at description.
 Eight months of the year are pleas ant, with an average temperature of about 70 deg. Fah. During four of these months the weather is perhaps as nearly perfect as anywhere else on earth. The far-away sky is curtained in blue and pink, with now and then only white feecy cloud floating across 1t. The land is flooded with perpetual sunshine. The pure, dry air famed by snow breaths from the distant mountains, or by moist breezes from the Gulf of California, becomes tempered, refreshing, delicious; and life in it is buoyant joy.
 But in winter there are bad, dis agreeble weeks, when the storm-winds howl; when tue air is full of dust, sand and pebbles; when it is chilly in the day and the temperature falls as low as 9 deg. at night Some times the mercury falls in winter down to 20 deg 1; and then in the summer 1t rises to the extraordinary point of 40 deg. Fah.
 June, July, August and September are the torrid months, when the ther mometer seldom registers below 90 at monday, although it frequently droops to 55 deg. at night.
 The universal glaring whiteness, the suffocating dust and the stinging hot sand, and the dry air are enough to cause one to marvel that the atmos- phere does not set itself on fire.
 However, it is notable fact that in this section both men and animals are exempt from sunstroke, and the at- mosphere, though so excessively dry and hot, is in itself free from any mor- bifc influence.
 The Mission and Yuma Iudians, who still dwell in this, their ancient domain, go bareheaded and barefooted and in fact their bodies are but scantily clad. And yet, they are not stunted nor desiccated; they are remarkably large-bodied, strong, and cheerful looking people. Many men, tramps prospectors, and lonely travellers, have perished on the Colorado desert.
 On my exploring trips, ever ant
 anon, we came upon the grim anC
 dismal sight of 8 bleached skeleton o some wretched wanderer who haC died the desperate death, and lief neither name nor story.
 In trying to cross on foot iron Yuma to Indio, 1t Is known that al
 average of six men perished every sum
 mer. The number of the unknowI '. undoubtedly must be much larger. These die not so much because C
 the scorching heat, rather because the start ill-outftted-get lost among tn
 sand-hills and have no water.
 Owing to the most excessive per spiration and evaporation of wate from the body, in an atmosphere de void of humidity, and heated to 120 C LAO degrees, it requires a great quan
 tity of water to sustain life. Indeed it IS astonishing how much water on
 drinks during day.
 If the prospector finds the cantee :" or keg empty, and if there be the lea doubt about his soon coming to a SUI @ ply, it demands a clear head and muc Io fortitude for him to keep from goir " crazy and losing his life within te
 hours.
 II Many poor frantic fellow has bee I led tantalIzed to death by the wonde if ful mirage of the desert. These beat t1ful phenomena daily hold out viv n pictures of green groves, lakes of cle d cool water. sailing ships, and village bo And and what an awful mockery, if strange fatality, just over the cour nd of the sand dunes Is where the m