Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1913-11-16
VALLEY
HORR0RSDEFY
MARCH Of MAN
Progress of Civilization Has
Failed to Reach the Cali
fornia Desert.

PHOENIX, AR1Z., Nov. 1b.-Death
Valley has lost none OF its terrors
since 1s49, 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.
To-day Death Valley practically is
unchanged. True, prospectors have
dug for gold and silver and copper In
the hills on every side; camps have
been made and abandoned here and
theraj water holes and stations estab-
lished In times of cross valley travel
between Panamints and Funeral
Range, a ranch has been developed
on which figs and melons and yege-
tables 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.
telephone line reaching to civilization;
mule teams have been driven into the
depths and hauled out borax; yet
Death Valley, deep between the tow
ering gray hills, sunken, treacherous,
sesolate, isolated, Is unaltered by the
coming of man, 1t Is still the valley
OF death, claiming Its victims one by
one, and harboring many unmarked
graves.
Horrors of Valley Described.
Earls c. Clemens, writing Of the
death of Peter Busch, friend, says
that eight years of desert experience
failed to aid Busch, who was travel
h q tn oh h. H..
the deep sand
Clemens says:
One has no Idea of the oppression
of the heat in Death Valley in sum
mer, unless he has personal expe-
rience of 1t. The sun rises hot and sets
hot, with q night sky full of strange
lights, like the flashing of firefies,
the phosphoric phenomena of weird
spooky waste.
The night brings some relief. but
the new day dawns hotter, it seems,
than the day before. The water in
your canteen is nauseating, as 1t
almost sizzles under the glare of the
merciless sun. The air pressure, hot
from above and below, almost stag
gers you, while your thick tongue,
swelling rapidly from thirst, all but
strangles you.
The sand dunes, marked only By
mesquite, swallow you without af-
fording refuge from the heat; the
wind blows as il from a fiery fur
nacei 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.
Vanish as Though In Sea.
Many have suffered horrible deaths
in that far away and lonely place;
gone mad from thirst and hunger;
throw away canteen, grub, clothing,
and wandered aimlessly, only to lie
down and die, their resting place I'M
known.
Some day, perhaps, a more fortu-
nate pilgrim has found skeleton and
dug a grave with an occasional find
Of jewelry and papers by which the
remains could he identified, but in the
years in which l have been familiar
with the stories of the lost in Death
Valley, but few missing ones have
been located The valley had swal-
lowed them up, as the sea.
THE desire for gold is undated; 1t
took men across Death Valley in lS49;
II has lured many a prospector there
since that historic day when Funeral
Range was named; and to-day II is
calling, with sure and certain toll of
human life"