PRICE 10 CENTS . . . . . . . ONLY ONE LOUSY THIN DIME
Page 2 DESERT RAT SCRAP BOOK
Packet 3 of Pouch 4
This paper is not entered as 2nd class mail. It's a first class newspaper.
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!
Asbestos editions will be forwarded
Fort Commander, Publisher, Distributor, Lamp Lighter, Editor, Artist, Gardener, Janitor, Owner
A paper that grows on you as you as you turn each page . . . excepting page 5
Pictures are by the author, many of them are woodcuts.
May the Great Mystery make sunrise in your heart —Sioux.
Due to the great many letters received in regards to my book "Desert Rough Cuts, A Haywire History of the Borrego Desert," published in 1937 by the publisher Ward Ritchie, I started the ball rolling to have it republished. The ball is rolling, has picked up 10 or 12 additional stories so it won't be long before I'll be pestering you for a couple of dollars, and telling you how good it is.
Packet 3 Pouch 4 Harry Oliver's DESERT RAT SCRAP BOOK PAGE 3
"HEAP" . . . tremendous education
GALLUP— Chee Dodge, 86 year old Navajo chief, used plenty of eloquence, boh Navajo and English, while appearing before various comittees in Washington during May in his plea for more education for his people in Arizona, Utah and New Mexico. After telling House Indian affairs committee about meager livelihood eked out on reservation and necessity of education if Navajo are to take their place in economy of a white world, during which his lawyer son Tom interpreted, the questioning period started. At this, Chee Dodge really warmed up, leaping to his feet, shaking his magnificent head of white hair, wriggling a dramatic finger, then letting loose a torrent of Navajo. Once, without waiting for translation, he came up with a reply in perfect English. He explained to the astonished committee he spoke Navajo only because many of the 22 delegates with him knew no English. "Actually I had a tremendous education for my day," he assured them. "I went to school for two months."
When Coolidge was Governor of Massachusetts [sic] he was once host to a visiting Englishman of some prominence. The latter ostentatiously took a British coin from his pocket, saying, "My great, great grandfather was made a Lord by the King whose picture you see on his shilling." — Coolige laconically produced a nickel. "My great, great grandfather was made an angel by the Indian whose picture you see on this coin."
Two lice off the same person won't fight!
Makes me tired, sometimes, when I think I got to go all all through Social Security, and then return and go through reincarnation, YET!
THE MAIL POUCH
Getting mail is lots of fun! In response to the last packet, received a little note from Jo Stafford, who liked being in the "Singing Sands" legend * * * The Emperor of Death Valley, applauded my efforts to keep the desert roads free from tin cans * * * Sgt. Wm. H. Rawnsley, writing from North of Hoengsong, Korea, commented on the bufalo chips referred to in the last two packets * * * Francis Brown, Ed. of the New York Times Book Review, okayed the use of the cartoon on the next page, providing the cartoonist, Hank Ketcham would okay it — he did, in a happy letter which also told of his comic strip, "Dennis the Menace." * * * Want to thank Fred Trueblood, Sr., publisher of Newhall, California, for his donation to the museum. He sent a set of "swords" for hand composition.
Want to comment some more about that Emperor of Death Valley: that is T.R. Goodwin, Supt. of The Death Valley National Monument. Though his majesty rules an area larger than some of our states with considerable more power than any Governor, it is whispered that his highness has to swat his own Vinegarones and take his own pet tortoise out for a run.
South Dakota's Badlands — 5200 sq. miles of eroding clay, dust and silt, received their name from the Indians, who called the area, "mako sica," according to the National Geographic Society. Early French trappers translated this into "mauvaises terres," meaning "badlands." This name was translated into English and retained by the first American settlers in the region.
"Nope, no Sick"
When an Indian reappeared in a Nevada drug store for the fourth time and asked for a half-dozen bottles of a certain cough medicine, the druggist grew curious. "Somebody in the family sick?" he asked. "Nope, no sick," grunted the Indian. "Then what in the world are you doing with all this cough syrup?" persisted the druggist. "Ugh!" responded the Indian, "Me likeum on pancakes."
Looking Ahead With An ARCHEOLOGIST By E. and G. BAKKER
Jimmy Brewer lately of Navajo National Monument forsees in the dim future Icelandic archeological expeditions to the ruined cities of America. He predicts that they will be bewildered by the finding of small white porcelain objects, four in the desert, and six and eight in the corroded foundations of ancient cities. They will always be found in a row and will be assigned some unknown ceremonial value. In other words, brother, the porcelain of our sparkplugs will outlast our civilization.
[cartoon: Office of THRILLING OUTDOOR YARNS, Inc. - At desk, Editor (holding manuscript) to Indian] "The trouble is all the cowboys in your story are a bunch of ignorant, bloodthirsty savages."
HIGRADED From Desert Magazine
Fallon, NevadaDear Mr. Henderson:
Glancing over the April copy of Desert I saw the query, "Can anyone tell us the name of the cradleboard used by Indians to carry papooses?"
A few years ago Gladys Rowley, who writes the column "Reno Revue" in the Nevada State Journal, asked the same question and was flooded with answers. Bill Powers of Reno, whose knowledge of Nevada Indians and their language is extensive, informed the columnist that both the Pahutes and the Shoshones called the snug little home in which the papoose travels on its mother's back its "hoob." Another informant said the word was "hoob," but pronounced like "hoop," as though it had three o's in it.
Still another quoted Chalfant's "Story of Inyo," chapter on home life of the Pahutes: "The infant Pahute was cradled in a wickerwork contrivance called a 'huva' or 'heuba,' with a tree fork as a foundation."
One informant explained how to tell the sex of "hoobed" babies. Certain tribes decorate the cover or hood with a diamond shaped figure for girls, a half diamond for boys.
One reader wrote, "Our local Indians call it a 'burkus.' That is the name used by many western and midwestern tribes."
EARLY 5 PER CENTERS
The Indians who sold Manhattan Island to Peter Minuit in 1626 for some firewater and $24 worth of trinkets were smart boys. They did not own it. They were Canarsies, Montauks and Rockaways from Long Island — just in town for a visit. So Peter had to buy it again from a tribe "uptown." The real salesmen, however, were the Raritans, who sold Staten Island to the Dutch six successive times.
I HATE TO PUT THIS ONE IN
In 1777 if a North Carolina state employee brought in a Cherokee scalp he was given 10 pounds for it. If he brought in the whole Indian in good condition he was given five pounds extra. Private citizens, on the other hand, were paid 40 pounds for the Indian's hair and 50 pounds per live Cherokee. In those days a pound was worth about $2.50.
Injuns Is Injuns
Fourteen miles north of Durango, Colorado, eight thousand five hundred feet up in the Rockies, a movie company was making the picture, "Across the Wide Missouri. They had even brought down a hundred Sioux Indians from a reservation in South Dakota, hired scholarly chief Nie-Hah Pouw Chtu-Tum-Nam (called Nippo) to translate the screenplay into the blackfoot and Nez Perce dialects, and got the Indians out of their Levis and provided them with wigs and braids in the style of their ancestors. (The Sioux, Bill Williams reports, take pictures of one another in make-up and wardrobe, delightedly exclaiming, "Look, I'm an Indian.")
THIS WORD "MOJAVE": J OR H?
Much confusion and arguement have arisen from the two spellings of the word "Mojave." A ruling of the Geographical Board in Washington, D.C. however a few years ago simplified the problem someshat. If you are in California, the name of the river, the city and the desert should be spelled with a "j": Mojave. If, on the other hand, you happen to be in Arizona, then you must spell the name of the county and the Indian tribe with an "h": Mohave. Dr. A.L. Kroeber of the University of California, noted anthropologist, claims that only the "h" spelling should exist, since the word is an Indian one, not Spanish, and was only transliterated by the early Spanish, who gave all "h" sounds a spelling of "j". The very same problem arose with the greatest Indian tribe of Northern Arizona: should it be Navaho or Navajo?
The word Mojave (or Mohave) itself is of Indian origin and is that tribe's name for "three mountains," referring to three distinctive landmarks near the present city of Needles, whose name also refers to this geological oddity.
He's a collector of Indian Relics.
Guess that's a pretty good business.
Yes, he has Minnehaha's original tee-hee.
Let's go on the warpath.
We can't — it's bein' paved.
An Indian missionary was awakened one night by a racket in the house. He picked up a pistol and quietly sneaked into the next room where he found a burglar ransacking the place. He said, "My friend, I would not hurt thee for the world but thou art standing right where I am going to shoot!"
YOU FIXUM, DOCTOR?
An old doctor at Needles tells this one: "An old time Indian came to his office and asked: "you fix sick man?" Doctor said "Yes," whereupon the Indian led him 11 miles to his adobe hogan, entered, laid down, said "Gut hurt like hell, you fixum."
An eastern go-getter spied a lazy Indian chief lolling indolently at the door of his hogan. "Chief," remonstrated the go-getter, "why don't you get yourself a job?" "Why?" grunted the chief. "Well, you could earn a lot of money. Maybe 30 or 40 dollars a week." "Why?" insisted the chief. "Oh, if you worked hard and saved your money, you'd soon have a bank account. Wouldn't you like that?" "Why?" again asked the chief. "For gosh sakes!" shouted the exasperated go-getter. "With a big bank account you could retire, and then you wouldn't have to work anymore —" "Not working now," pointed out the Indian.
Mrs. Sniff of the Famous Date Gardens Tells This One
A party of tourists wished to see some Indian ruins in a desolate section of Arizona. In order to get to them they had to leave their car a walk some distance. When well on their way, one lady suddenly cried, "Gracious, I forgot to lock the car!" "Don't worry, it's all right," the Indian guide comforted her. "There isn't a white man within fifty miles of this place."
A teacher in an Oklahoma school one day remarked, "I wonder if any of you children have some Indian blood," I have, teacher," replied Tommy. "That's quite interesting," observed teacher. "What tribe?" "Well, I don't think it was exactly a tribe," said Tommy, "Grandma says he was just a wandering Indian riding a wonderful white horse!"
THE HUNGRY INDIAN
Many years ago, an Indian and two other men were riding across the Inyo lava beds. They'd been in the saddle since early morning, and their talk got around to the big dinner they expected to eat when they got to town. When the Indian was asked if he was hungry, however, his answer was "No."
They soon reached their destination and ordered steaks with all the trimmings.
The Indian wolfed down everything in sight. One of his companions remarked to the redskin that only an hour ago he'd said he wasn't hungry.
"No use be hungry back there," the Indian replied, "no food."
I reprint this story of Chas. Browne from the Death Valley packet because it's a good Indian story — You folks that have all your back packets have it, but others picking up their first copies on the news-stand don't, and too, I am trying to put out the perfect packet, so's one of those award giving outfits might see fit to give this paper a fitting award.
TUMBLEWEEDS Tumbled onto by DRY CAMP BLACKIE
Despite the belief that Indians will not probe into the "happy hunting ground" of their ancestors, Papago, Indians are digging into a cavern north of Arizona that was an early hunting shrine. In a short time a valley village will be uncovered. It is thought to date from about 1200 A.D.
You want to speak Papago? There is a bulletin out now written by Dr. William Kurath, professor of German at the University of Arizona. It deals with sounds, word formations, sentence structure, vocabulary, texts and songs of the Papago tongue.
HOUSEWIVES ATTENTION: So you think your housework is tough? Among the Blackfeet tribe of Indians it was customary to take more than one wife because it required three women to do the work connected with just one little Indian teepee!
INJUN STUFF SMART INDIAN
A visitor to a Western trading post asked one of the clerks about the weather prospects for the following day. The clerk, unwilling to hazard a guess, merely shrugged his shoulders in disinterest but an Indian, an odd-job worker about the place, freely volunteered, "Going to rain — much!" And so it did.
During the downpour the visitor re-entered the post and sought out the prophet of rain, who he was convinced understood the voices of Nature. This time, the Indian predicted, "Clear and cool." Again the forecast was correct.
When the question was repeated on the third day, the visitor received quite a shock. "Dunno," chuckled the redskin. "Didn't hear the radio today!"
Ladies and Dogs
A rooming house keeper from Red Mountain went into a pet shop to price some dogs. "You can have that small bitch over there for $25," said the clerk, pointing, "or that large bitch in the corner for $35." The lady frowned as the man spoke. "Why, madam," asked the clerk, "aren't you familiar with the term 'bitch'?" "Why, certainly," replied the lady haughtily, "but never before have I heard it applied to dogs."
Page 4 INDIAN PACKET
DESERT RAT SCRAP BOOK 5
The Navajo Indian domesticated the WIld Turkey.
The Indian population in the desert is steadily growing — from 8,000 to 45,000 in 60 years.
The Seri Indians of Tiburon Island, in the Gulf of California, can run down horses, coyotes, deers, and even jackrabbits, on foot, it is claimed.
The oldest inhabited home in America is a mud house in Santa Fe, New Mexico — It was old before the Spanish came in the 16th century.
Over 3,000 different herbs and plants for therapeutic use were grown in Montezuma's Mexican botanical gardens years before the discovery of America.
Indians prefer black hats, because they acquired the habit of wearing black hats when the Union Army gave them their extra hats after the war between the States.
The Mohave Indian says, "The white man's forehead is wrinkled because he is always asking, 'Will tomorrow be bad?' He never has time to smile because it is very good right now."
The stone for the Indian sacred Redstone pipe is only found in Pipe-Stone County, Minnesota — and nowhere else. Archeologists find that the Indians had traded this precious stone with Indians everywhere in the United States.
Keep the brightest trail. — Indian advice.
There are 324,000 Indians in the United States proper — something over 372,000 including Alaska.
The American Indian has never had a substitute for liquor; most all primitive races in other parts of the world have.
The Indian on the "Buffalo Nickel" was modeled by Chief Two-Gun White Calf of the Glacier Park Indian Reservation.
Pocohontas had a son, Thomas Rolfe. He was educated in England, but later came to Virginia, where he gained considerable wealth.
The usual size of a wampum belt was eleven strands of 180 beads each — about 2,000 wampum beads to a belt. Some belts were composed of 6,000 to 7,000 beads.
At a men's club in Oklahoma and Indian Chief, upon being admitted, said, "You all know me as 'Chief Trainwhistle,' but since I am now one of you, I hope you will feel free to address me as 'Toots'."
The ancient art of tanning, a close-guarded secret of the Kateri tribe of Idaho, will be taught young members of the tribe. Tribal leaders decided on the step after it was found that only a few Indians survived who knew the secret of the difficult art.
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...