The Mystic Mid-Region: The Deserts of the Southwest

by Arthur J. Burdick

Sometimes the three peaks are elongated and appear to be masts, while the solid granite bulk of the pile takes on the form of sails, seemingly set to catch the winds of the specter sea. Again the peaks are less elongated, and they appear like the heavier masts of a war-ship, and the sails are transformed into turrets and towers. The mirage eats into the sides of the mountains, leaving exposed several projecting points, which look like the heavy guns of a battle-ship. Then, perhaps, while the watcher strains his eye to catch the strange vision, it suddenly disappears from sight.

At times the transformation from three-master to war-ship, or from war-vessel to three-master, takes place before the watcher's eyes, as though some mighty wizard were doing the "Presto, change!" act for the gazer's benefit. Then, very likely, the Buttes lose all resemblance to ocean craft and assume their natural shape, but appear to be surrounded by water—a granite isle in a placid sea. So vivid is this picture that the mountain casts a perfect inverted shadow of itself in the waters which apparently surround it, but which actually do not exist.

There are other peaks and mountains which are worthy of mention among the features of the Colorado Desert. One of these is Pilot Knob, and Signal Mountain is another. These two mountains are landmarks which serve to guide those who have occasion to cross the forbidding region.

Pilot Knob, in the southeastern part of the desert, is the point toward which eastern-bound travelers shape their course. The peak can be seen more than a hundred miles, and it stands out so distinctly from other mountains in that quarter of the desert that its identity is not easily lost.

Signal Mountain rises abruptly from the level plain near the western side of the desert at the international line. It is visible from all points in the desert, and has served to guide many a traveler to safety who otherwise would have perished in the desert wastes. The mountain is pyramidal in form, and is distinctive from all other peaks of that region.

Along the eastern rim of the desert stretches a long line of hills two or three hundred feet in height, which are known as the "Walking Hills." They are gray and barren but not lacking in picturesqueness, for many strange and fantastic shapes may be traced in their outlines.

These hills are constantly changing both shape and position, and that is the reason they have received the name of Walking Hills. East of these hills run the trains of the Southern Pacific Railroad. The road was built a little more than a quarter of a century ago, and at that time the tracks were from one fourth of a mile to two miles west of the hills. Now the latter are encroaching upon the road and threaten to bury it beneath millions of tons of sand.

The tracks of the road must either be moved farther east, or else they must swing in to the west of the hills to escape being engulfed by the sandy billows. The hills are composed of fine particles of sand which have been carried before the winds which sweep a hundred miles across a level and barren plain. What first caused the sand to pile up will never be known, but once a barrier was formed, all the sand which fled before the winds piled up, raising the barrier each year. The winds, which always blow from the west, are continually beating against the base of the hills, lifting the sands there, sliding them up the sloping sides and dropping them over the other side. Thus, as the westward slope is eaten away, the eastern side of the hills is added to and they slowly advance toward the east.