How enormous these deserts are may be judged of by the fact that the four first states in the list above are together roughly about one third larger than France ... and that the far greater part of them, to say the least, are howling wastes!
A great part of these vast tracts are as truly desert as those in Africa. Sand and nothing but sand; water would have no effect as regards fertilization, and, besides, there is no water. But other parts are different. Not more tempting to the eye, what looks like sand has vitality in it. Water produces a wonderful transformation, and crops, trees—everything will grow with its aid. Thus, in this better class of desert and in the favoured spots where water is procurable, the said blank waste becomes a smiling spot. Such is the desert the Mormons have fertilized, such, as a rule, the deserts in California. Much of the splendid fruit that state produces has its birthplace in such localities.
Where the deserts of the last-mentioned kind are found, did anything like a moderate rainfall happen yearly, they, of course, would not exist. But rain in these localities is very rare, as indeed it is all over the world in such spots. The want of rain, I conceive, makes the desert, and the arid waste responds by keeping off the rain. It is well known vegetation conduces to rainfall, and that a country thickly wooded, when cleared, has less rain after. I have myself seen striking instances of this. On the other hand, vegetation and rain increase simultaneously. It may be, therefore, that, in the course of very many years, a portion of the American deserts will disappear, for where the soil has any vitality in it, and water is procurable, artificial means will bring vegetation, which again, little by little, will increase the rainfall; until at last (it may take centuries) the now said desert tracts will thrive with the rain from heaven alone.
While on the subject of rain, I would mention some curious facts. From what we know of the climate in different European localities (or rather let us confine ourselves to Great Britain, where the western parts, especially Ireland, near to and exposed to the effects of the Atlantic, have an increased rainfall), we (by "we" I mean others, like me, ignorant of meteorology) would think the western Pacific coast of America, with that boundless ocean (far wider than the Atlantic, and stretching across to Asia) in front would fare likewise. But it is not so. In fact quite the reverse. On the greater part of that coast, up to about latitude 42° north, the rainfall is exceedingly scanty, so much so that very little vegetation will thrive without artificial watering, and though north of 42° there is much more, it is still less than on our western coasts. The deficiency cannot arise, except very partially, from lack of vegetation, for though the said coast, south of 42°, is very bare, not far back exists a high and well-clad mountain range.[6]
What is the cause I know not, perhaps meteorologists do, I only state the fact. But more: though not to the same degree, all the large tract west of the Rocky Mountains has a deficient rainfall, and artificial irrigation is more or less resorted to everywhere. I shall have more to say as to how it is done when, later, I describe the Antelope Valley.
I left the description of the journey when in the desert, and now return there. As the line enters the State of Arizona it begins to descend. It had ascended previously, which had made the heat bearable. But a few hours of descent made a woful change. Coats, waistcoats were discarded by the men, while the female passengers followed suit as far as they could. No use! we all gasped and panted and used many pocket-handkerchiefs. The temperature rose higher and higher, and the night was the worst, for we were then at the lowest point. Between Tucson and Yuma the heat was simply infernal. I believe this tract is the bed of what, ages ago, was an inland sea; anyhow it had all the appearance of it, and I was later told geologists thought so too. It is, to say the least, very likely, for Yuma, I heard, is several hundred feet below sea-level. The latitude is 32½° north, a warm latitude in any case, but with desert for hundreds of miles all round, with perhaps as low an elevation as exists on earth, shut in on all sides so that not a breath of air can get at it, what wonder that Yuma and all about there is hot? I have experienced great heat in many parts of the world, but Suez, the Red Sea, the hottest parts of India, are a joke to what I felt there. I have since heard it has the reputation of being the hottest place on earth!
Between Yuma and the head of the Gulf of California is about eighty miles. It would not therefore be difficult to let the water of the ocean into this dry bed, and make a large sea there, the same as they propose to do in Northern Africa.
Yuma is on the boundary-line between the States of Arizona and California, but it is some six hours further west by rail ere you leave this supposed dry sea bed and begin to ascend. California had been painted to me in such bright colours, both in England and America, I could not, when daylight came the following morning, and there was still nothing but desert, believe we were really there. But so it was. We ascended for some hours, and the climate bettered as we did so, until at last we could breathe once more, but the desert was still there, and it was not till we came near Los Angeles, which is some 150 miles beyond Yuma, that we began to encounter vegetation. Los Angeles (the Angels) was so named by the Spaniards who founded it. It is on the barren Pacific coast alluded to, but the soil is of desert kind number two, that is, it has vitality in it, and water makes it fertile. Thus by artificial means (for of rain there is very little) the environs of the town are highly cultivated. Fruit is the main product. The grapes are magnificent, so are the peaches, in appearance at least, but they lack flavour. This defect is common to that fruit all over California; but I need not enumerate each kind of fruit grown, all that thrives both in temperate and semi-tropical regions is found there, and, the peaches excepted, all first rate of their kinds.
It was here I first appreciated the cheapness of fruit in California. A big basket of splendid black grapes, which at the cheapest time in London would cost say eight shillings, I bought there for a few cents, say sixpence, and all other fruit in proportion.
I did not stay at Los Angeles; I was anxious to see my sons in the Antelope Valley, and we were now nearing it. I omitted to mention that while I was at New York, I received a letter from them, in it they told me that I had been grossly deceived, and that the said valley was, to repeat their words, "an out-and-out do." That nothing could be done there, that I should never stay, &c., &c. Of course I was much disappointed, but as they were there, I must join them, and I determined to see for myself. Thus, in spite of their warning, I had come to California.