The Washington herald., 1913-10-19
VALLEYS
HORRORS REMAIN
March Of Civilization Has
Failed to Reach Cali
fornia Desert.
GRAVE MARKED VICINITY
Funeral Range SIN Lures Victims
as II Did in the Days
Of '49.

Phoenix, ARK. Oct. ls-Death VALLEY
has lost none OF its terrors since 1sf1.
when many gold hunters persisted IN
their attempts to reach the bonanza
fields in California. The relics Of that
expedition yet remain on Salt Creek to
remind passers-by of a heroic struggle
against great odds.
Today Death Valley practically II un-
changed. True. prospectors have dug
for gold and silver and copper IN the
hills on every side: camps have been
made and abandoned here and there.
water holes and stations established in
times OF cross-valIey travel between
Panamints and Funeral Range; a ranch
has been developed on which figs and
melons and vegetables grow in great
abundance-the mecca OF hundreds OF
desert pilgrims and sightseeing parties: a
stamp mill and an aerial railway have
been built and operated, with a telephcns
line reaching to civilizations; mule teams
have been driven into the depths shd
hauled out borax; yet Death Valley. deep
between the towering gray hills, sunizen.
treacherous, desolate, isolated. is unal-
tered by the coming Of man It In still
the valley OF death, claiming its victims
one by one, and harboring many un-
marked graves.
One of the Latest Victims.
EarIs C. Clemens. a newspaper man.
writing of the death Of Peter Busch, a
friend. says that eight years Of desert
experience failed to aid Busch, who was
travelling by automobile. The car stuck
in the deep sand
Clemens says:
"one has no idea Of the oppression Of
the heat in Death Valley in summer,
unless he has personal experience Of It.
The sun rises hot and set hot, with a
night sky full Of strange lights. like the
flashing of firefiies. the phosphoric phe-
nomena OF a weird. spooky waste. The
night brings some relief. but the new day
dawns hotter, 1t seems, than the day be-
fore The water in your canteen Is nau-
seating. as IL almost sizzles under the
glare of the merciless sun The air
pressure, hot from above and below. al
most staggers you. while your thick
tongue, swelling rapidly from thirst, all
but strangles you
THE sand dunes, marked only by mes
quite. swallow you without affording ref
uge from the heat; the wind blows as
IL from a fiery furnace; the sand shifts
with the wind and the trail is lost; the
burros may stampede. and the last OF
your grub may be hopelessly scattered
Many have suffered horrible deaths In
that faraway and lonely place: gone mad
from thirst and hunger, thrown away
canteen, grub. clothing. and wandered
aimlessly, only to lie down and die. the
prey of coyotes and the grief of loved
ones to whom their resting place IL un-
known. Some day, perhaps, q more for
tunate pilgrim has found a skeleton and
dug a grave with an occasional ind OF
jewelry and papers by which the remains
could be identified, but in the years in
which I have been familiar with the
stories OF the lost in Death Valley, but
few missing ones have been located. The
valley had swallowed them up, as the
sea.
The desire for gold is unabatted; it
took men across Death Valley in 249.
ii has lured many a prospector there
since that historic day when Funeral
Range was named: and today It is call
ing, with sure and certain toll Of human
life"