The Birmingham age-herald., 1908-03-22

From the Chicago Tribune
 It is strange that ''tramps' should live on desert, when they can walk out Of itl But many of them prefer this land of desolation and furnaee-like heat even to the garden spots" of California. They visit civilization only when they are in need of supplies; but when these can be had from the mining camps they go no farther.
 This Is one of the many strange fea- lures of the Mojave Desert-that land of myths and mirages, a part of which, Death Valley, is the hottest place on earth. And tramps are found in this val- ley even in summer, when the thermom- eter is 137 in the shade, and there Is no shade. This is the highest known tenn perature in the valley of death, and per- haps in the world.
 These renegade white tramps live with the Piute Indians. and are locally known as Arabs" Notwithstanding the burn ing wastes scarcity of water. discom- forts, and many dangers from animals, tramps are found in all parts of the des- ert. Mining camps and ranches are dis tant from leach other, and the country produces little food, but these desert tour ists find no difficulty in getting a living. either by begging or stealing. They will not work, yet manage to live like their brethren. in civilization.
 They are of. different species, more worthless, if possible, than the other branch of their tribe and are an interest," ing study in that they will suffer thirst, heat, and almost death in order to get enough to sustain their worthless lives.
 The desert has evolved a curious type of humanity seen nowhere else in the world. His clothes are usually cast-off garments that he has found, begged or perhaps stolen-faded frayed and full of holes and his broken shoes usually are wrapped in cloth so as to protect his feet from the burning sands. He carries a bundle, cons sisting of provisions and few empty beer bottles
 On reaching a ranch he will make for the spring, and after drinking his fill lie down on the shady side of the house and sleep for hours. or until he smells the odors of the coming meal. Then he pa tiently waits for "hand-out'' and is off to the next ranch.
 And thus he keeps up his rounds from one end of the desert to the other with no object in view, no hope for the flu ture-only that he may live from day to day. At night he will sleep in an all falfa field, or in a shallow broollet with his head resting upon a rock for a pill low, and he thus can sleep soundly, with the thermometer at 110 or 115.
 Arising from his cool bed he fills his beer bottles with water, eats his Dreak- fast, and again assumes his long tramp, which Is never to end. He follows the trail having no compass, and knowing little or nothing of the country beyond, only that 1t Is 30 miles to the next spring, and twice that distance to the next ranch. He may reach his destination and he may not
 Frequently he falls a victim to the heat, or thirst for men have died of thirst, though having jars of water in their possession. The heat has burned out the spark of life or literally bursts the head open. Skeletons are found in the sands and among the rocks-some vic- tims of thirst, others of the thieving tramp in quest of provisions. The desert tramp is more desperate than his brother of civilization. The fierce climate has brought out his brutal nature and his hand Is against any one he meets in this desolate country where everything In na- ture Is at war, even the clements
 The sun beats down from a cloudless sky on the burning sands the earth grows hotter and hotter each day, the air glows, dances and bakes, gathering heat as 1t hurries along like a blast of flame, and the desert tramp picks his way through the hot sand and dust, go- ing he knows not where, and with no ob- ject in view-only to be going.
 According to the experience of mining prospectors who have traversed the worst parts of Death Valley, the desert has peculiar influence upon It's dwellers. It turns the brain, at least of many, and those who have once journeyed across 1t become fascinated and return. It seems to exert an influence which never