PRICE TEN CENTS . . . . . . ONLY ONE MEASLY THIN DIME
ALONG THE BORDER PACKET
DESERT RAT SCRAP BOOK Page 2
Packet Three of Pouch Two
Smallest newspaper in the world and the only 5 paged one.
Published at Fort Oliver
1000 Palms, California
Four Times a Year
ON THE NEWS STANDS 10¢ A COPY
But sometimes they don't have them.
ONE YEAR BY MAIL — 4 COPIES 50¢
Darned if I am going to the trouble of mailing it for nothing.
10 Years ..................... $5.00 100 Years .....................$50.00 (Something to think about)
Fort Commander, Publisher, Distributor, Lamp Lighter, Editor, Artist, Gardener, Janitor, Owner
Not a one of these names or places is COINCIDENTAL. THIS IS IT!
Pictures are by the author, many of them are woodcuts.
I did all but the spelling. Most of this material, pictures and writing is copyrighted — and branded.
THE MAILDear Mr. Oliver,
You are certainly welcome to reprint "Hell in Texas." If you want to extract any anecdotes or the like at any time for which I am responsible, feel free to do so. I am glad to meet your Desert Rat Scrap Book and send you a dollar for a two year's subscription.
Yours very truly, J.FRANK DOBIE
PAY DIRT(Some folks would call this an editorial)
J. Frank Dobie of Texas, whose name shows up in two other places in the packet, is the author of some fine books on the southwest. "Coronado's Children" is loaded with tales of Lost Mines and Buried Treasures. It is my number one choice of the ten best books on the southwest; number two would be "The Journey of the Flame" by Fierro Blanco, (about little known Baja California). Then back to Dobie for number three, "Apache Gold and Yaqui Silver." These three books are chuck full of legends, traditions, tall tales, and the lore of our southwest. (Your library should have them). And all desert rats should read them.
And this answers some of your letters as to what to read.
Your Editor is not saying what the next packet is to be. We had a Wind packet, Burro packet, the Mojave packet, and the Along the Border packet. —The wind packet had the best burro stuff, the Mojave packet a lot of Death Valley; this Along the Border packet has —?— from now on I am just going to grab the best stuff I can, and give the packet a number. Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Mexico, and the Californias, all mixed.
On the cover you will see that this paper sells for 10¢ in every state but Montana; I am mad at Montana. I lived in Montana in 1909, crossed from Missoula to Kalispell by 4 horse stage, when they were selling all our buffalo to Canada. I reprinted for them (in packet No. 3) the greatest dog story ever; it was Charles M. Russell's "Dog Eater." That great western artist from Montana was also tops as a humorist. I am mad and I have a map of the U.S. in front of me, and to find a state that I have fewer subscribers in I have to go east as far as New Jersey.
So if you live in Montana, send 15¢ for your trial copy.
By the time this packet hits the water holes they will have machines to do a better and faster job of everything that people have to do in this world, except think and get the best part of a woman in an argument.
Your Editor finds that now days to be successful the world expects you to make money too.
Anyway, Truman learnt me something. When I got my quarterly dun from the income tax office, I just vetoed it and sent it back.
The cover. It's from the Gold Gulch Gazette, a little paper I printed at the San Diego Fair in 1935 . . . it too was a part of my 21-acre "Rip Roarin'st Mining Camp since '49." Remember?
Truth is such a precious article, let us all economize in its use.
Packet 3 Pouch 2 Harry Oliver's DESERT RAT SCRAP BOOK Page 3
In the Sunshine of the Pecos BEWITCHED SANDFrom J. Frank Dobie's CORONADO'S CHILDREN, by permission.
"My grandfather live in Pecos down there to be more tha a hundred years old," said Jose Vaca. "When I was young before he die, I hear him say many things, but I was not careful then to listen. He knew Indians that lived here in this Pecos peblo and he bought a piece of land from one of them. After he pay for the land, and the Indian was leaving to go far away, the Indian he say: 'You have here now more wealth than is in the world elsewhere.'
"'How?' ask my grandfather. 'Show me.'
"Then the Indian take him and a burro to where was some sand in the creek. They put some sand in sacks and bring it on the burro, and they get twenty-five dollars worth of gold out of that one load of sand.
"That night the Indian disappear, and the next day my grandfather he go with two burros and load both with the sand. He bring it up, and from it he do not get one thing. Nothing, I tell you. That old Indian is gone, but he has his eyes on the sand. Maybe he was a brujo (a wizard). Maybe the sand was embrujada (bewitched). I do not know. I know when the Indian is gone the gold is all gone too."
I cannot say how the truth may be; I say the tale as 'twas told to me. SCOTT
An onion is a food that builds you up physically and drags you down socially.
"The most difficult character in comedy is that of the fool, and he must be no simpleton that plays the part." —CERVANTES
"If I owe Smith ten dollars, and God forgives me, that doesn't pay Smith. —R.G. INGERSOLL
"Lew Lewis of Indian Wells says a fellow gets tireder working two hours at something he doesn't like than he does working fourteen at something he does like.
Desert Tortoise Pulls In Its Neck
Lily de la Cerda of Guatamala while here at Fort Oliver told a story about her sister, Graciela, who had a baby tortoise which she kept for a pet. One day it died. Graciela placed the dead tortoise in a little box and buried it.
A few days later while lamenting the loss of her little pet, she met it coming up the pathway to her home.
Over The Hill
Writing of the old stage drivers in his "As I Remember Them," C.C. Goodwin, the kindly Nevada newspaperman, said: "As it is, the old race have all passed away, as did that driver in Sacramento who, when dying, whispered: "It's a down grade and I can't reach the brake."
May the Great Mystery make sunrise in your heart. —Sioux.
Judgin' from some radio programs, it's a lot more important to sell soap than to use it.
The fellow who makes the same mistake over and over doesn't keep his eyes open. There are thousands of other mistakes close at hand which he could make.
The American people spend more for government than for food. They get more bellyaches out of it, too.
The Newspaperman and the Paperhanger
In the forward of Bennett Cerf's new book of humor, (he says, If you know a good story, publish it from time to time.")
So I am reprinting this yarn from Packet one pouch one. —Ed.
Nogales, Ariz— A few months ago old man West died here at Nogales. His two sons, Ted West, a newspaperman, and Bill West, a paper-hanger, received $250 from the small estate. Bill, the paper-hanger, deposited his in the savings bank, where it still remains. Ted, the newspaperman, had always had a great yen for tequila in fancy bottles, and expended his heritage in the purchase of a grand array of the fanciest he could find. He had just finished drinking these, and has sold the strange, fantastic, empty bottles to a tourist for $360.
NO BURRO - NO GOLD
"A FORD WILL LIVE three years here in the desert — a dog three times the years of a Ford — a horse three times the age of the dog — a man three times the age of the horse — and a burro lives three times the age of the man."
It was Sandy Walker a'talkin' to the regular bunch of counter-sitters at the Busy Bee store. Even Col. Kashin didn't stop him after that three times eighty-one, all was too busy a'figurin' I guess, and on he went.
"You never see'd a dead burro none o'you, ain't any of you going to live long enough to know how long they live either?"
"An' you what's prospectin' with Fords is outa' luck, you won't find fold. Why they cut roads an' railroads into mountains an' thru deserts an' across all kinds o'land for years an' never hit gold on roads, you gotta get out with burros an' find it."
"I been out here in the desert twenty-six years, six years huntin' gold an' twenty years huntin' for my burros. I didn't find my mine while I was huntin' gold either, I found it while I was a'huntin' them dad-burned run-a-ways."
"Them Ford ridin' prospectors wasn't sayin' nothin' jest a'lookin' at each other like sheep. Did yo uever [sic] think what us desert rats owes to burros?" he asks. "What about those water holes? Every last one of 'em coverin' fifteen hundred miles from here clear up to the Snake River is known to us because a burro found it."
"You don't have to hunt Fords," says Jake Topper.
"Suppose that's mighty consolin'," snorts Sandy as he steps outside, then all of a sudden the air gets blue. It's Sandy lettin' out the longest, finest string of cuss words we've heard in these parts. I come a'runnin' to see what was wrong. It was a'plenty. His burros got loose an' was hittin' off for the horizon as tight as they could go.
"Come," says I to Sandy, "get in the Ford, we'll round 'em up."
As we chugged along on three cylinders the old flivver hotter'n a cowboy's pistol on Fourth of July, homeward bound after hours of high class cussin' an' wranglin, I was admittin' to Sandy that burros rate prize number one for enlargin' desert cuss word vocabularies.
"Stop," yells Sandy lookin' across the wash we're ridin' down. "That's likely lookin' rock yonder," and that DEAR POSTERITY is when we staked out our claims on the now famous Burroford Mine.
I have a friend who is recognized as a philosopher and has written a number of books. In his latest effort we find the following:
"A driver on a Mexican stage was asked about the people who live in the villages on the mountainside. He said: "There is a narrow road up the mountain. Some of those people live and die without ever seeing a city. Many of them never read a newspaper.' And then after a thoughtful pause he sighed and concluded: 'They are very happy.'"
I asked Dry Camp Blackie if he was a Folk Lorist, and he said — Nope, I'm a Poor Folkest.
DESERT ROUGH CUTS
Page 4 Packet 3 -- Along the Border Packet This Page is Dedicated to the World's Greatest Optimist -- The Desert Prospector
DESERT RAT SCRAP BOOK 5
[image: burros at chain-link fence]
The rocking chair is an original American invention dating back to about 1765.
Man is the only animal that can be skinned more than once. —Edwina Root
Won't be long now till we'll have somebody besides the Weather Bureau to blame if we're short of mousture. We'll cuss out the rainmakers' union.
A Fort Worth newspaper printed a personal ad that read, "If John Blank, who deserted his wife and baby twenty-one years ago, will return, said baby will knock hell out of him."
CALEXICO — Through service on the newly completed Mexico City-Mexicali railroad is expected to start soon. Railway and federal officials predict the new transportation facilities will make Calexico the biggest and most important port of entry on the Mexican border within five years. Mexican officials say Mexicali's population, now estimated at 65,000, will double within the same period. The road, finished January 5 with the closing of the 220 mile Punta Penasco-Caborca link, offers through connections with Los Angeles.
Bats have been used to send messages across the border. Like homing pigeons, bats will return to the cave from whence taken. Smugglers liberate them after contraband is delivered.
JUAREZ, Mexico — Prevention of cruelty to vegetables was the big news story here today. After much discussion the authorities proved that the Mexican Jumping Bean has a nervous system, and doesn't like being placed on hot plates — sunshine jumping was said to be O.K.
Lower California is the least known portion of the world, even in the U.S., its only land boundary. Yet it is the home of one of the largest copper mines in the world, also the pearls from the bay of La Paz (taken out in the 17th century) are among the Crown Jewels of Spain. (Wonder who is wearing them now.)
Over 3,000 different herbs and plants for therapeutic use were grown in Montezuma's Mexican botanical gardens years before the discovery of America.
It's a fact, that the Mexican national coat of arms was originated before Columbus discovered America.
All text was lovingly hand-entered (no OCR scans) by RIC CARTER who stakes a claim to the copyright for the layout and markup, but not to the contents, which remain the property of the heirs and estate of Harry Oliver, wherever they may be. Hopefully all the original typos were preserved and not too many new ones were introduced, but y'know how it goes...