The Cruise of a Schooner

by Albert W. Harris

Saturday morning, May twenty-first, we found we had lost our canteen. It was so cold and windy the afternoon before that we hadn’t needed the canteen and in taking the sheet off the wagon we must have pulled it off, but where and when we didn’t know. Having plenty of water to start with we concluded we could pick up another canteen or improvise one, so we did not go back far to look for it, but started out to get over as much ground as possible.

There was no air stirring; it warmed up early and later got hot. The sand made it hard pulling and finally, at 11 A. M., we reached another deserted section house. There was a well and bucket, and, while there was no shade and the heat was intense, we managed to keep fairly comfortable by lying under the wagon and recalling how cool it had been the day before. Our dog, Tuck, seemed to feel the heat more than we did, or the horses, but it was principally because we had hard work keeping him in the wagon. If he saw anything move, from a coyote to a lizard, he would jump out of the wagon and undertake to catch it. The lizards would disappear in the sand and the coyotes in the distance, and Tuck would be hot for an hour or two afterward.

About 2 P. M. we started on again, this time driving spike, as the sand was getting harder to pull through and it took all three horses to do it. By evening we had reached what is called the canyon of the Mojave River. Here we camped in the bed of the river, which at this place was a mere rivulet. The river bed, however, was about two hundred yards wide, full of gravel and stones, with occasionally a big boulder. Willows grew in patches on the banks, and here and there a cottonwood. On each side the bare mountains had edged up to the bank, and we had a shut-in feeling. The river, however, small as it was at this time, no doubt rushed through here at times, carrying a large volume of water out into the desert beyond.

Having picked out a place to camp, where there were no rocks, we proceeded to get supper, while Tuck raced up and down in what little water there was in the river and had a glorious time. We were tired with the heat and sand, and so were the horses, but after supper we decided to take a swim; at least that is what we said, but the reader can imagine we did not swim much in a stream four feet wide and three inches deep. It was quite a grotesque sight to see three men trying to take a bath in such a stream by the light of the moon. In fact we laughed a great deal ourselves, but we were so long at it, and it grew cold so fast, that we were shivering before we got back to the wagon. Such is the difference in temperature between night and day in this country.

ENTERING THE MOJAVE CANYON

Sunday, the twenty-second, we started early so as to get through the canyon and out into the open desert before it should get too hot. It was a hard drive of six miles over rocks and through sand down the river bed, which, very soon after starting, we found had lost even the small stream of water which had been so welcome at our camp site. The walls of the canyon became quite rocky and in spots sheer walls of stone, and in the narrowest place we found the railroad track above us passing through tunnels and over bridges, as this canyon through which the river flows (when it does flow) is the only way the railroad could get through these mountains at this point. We supposed they were part of what is called the Soda Mountains.

At this point in the canyon we saw a section house and climbed up to see if they had any water. We found a man and his wife and daughter. They had only about half a barrel of water fit to drink, but allowed us what we wanted for that purpose. They also had two canteens, and after a parley sold us one. After our previous experience in losing two canteens, we were careful not to lose this one and luckily brought it all the way through. Besides being kind enough to let us have the canteen, they told us that the Company was now running a train each day between Las Vegas and Daggett, and that there was a tank car containing a little water on a spur track in the desert about five miles from there, so we started on much encouraged. We had a canteen and were only five miles from a tank car with water in it!

Within a mile we emerged from the canyon, the mountains receded to the north and south, and we surveyed a vast plain of sand. There was no sign of a trail, however, so we pushed out into the sand, which seemed to have no bottom. The wheels of the wagon, although having wide tires, sank to such a depth that at times we were “four spokes in the sand,” and a hundred yards was about as far as the horses could pull the wagon at a time. The Doctor and Bob walked to lighten the load, and it wasn’t very long before we began to realize that we were up against it hard. The heat was intense, and the sun on the white sand would have blinded us soon if we had not put on our smoked glasses.