Desert Magazine from June 1944 PDF Document - Surrey ...

along fine. His herd increased and he was
well pleased with his isolated location.
Then came an unusually dry summer and
his spring almost dried up. He began digging,
hoping to increase the flow. He dug
untiringly for days, but all he had was a
series of potholes in the rock. Filled with
gravel they had acted as a reservoir for
rainwater. He had no spring!
A timely rain filled his potholes soon
afterward. He was safe for that year. But
to assure a larger supply he built a number
of small dams. Even so, his situation was
precarious, because his potholes sometimes
would almost dry up between rains and the
nearest living water was 40 miles away.
After a few years Jack's wife died. When
we met him he had been living alone for 30
years. His cabin walls were hung with
calendars for each one of those years, and
although nothing ever seemed to happen,
he faithfully kept a diary. His pets were a
12-year-old "colt," a 40-year-old mule,
and a rattlesnake under the kitchen floor.
"What are you fellows looking for, anyway?"
Jack asked us next morning after
breakfast.
"Trilobites," Frank said. "We found
some nice ones yesterday on the ridge
across the valley."
"Cripes!" said Jack. "You don't need
to go that far. I can get you a bushel of
'em right here. Live ones. My potholes
are full of 'em."
"Live trilobites?" I asked incredulously,
wondering if the old man had lived alone
so long he was a little crazy.
"Sure," he replied confidently. "Come
on, I'll show you."
He led us to one of his deep potholes,
dipped up a can of water and handed it to
me. It was jumping with some kind of
animal life. I poured some of it into my
pa'm, and with it a real, live trilob'te about
as big as the end of my thumb. Nowadays
scientists call them Apis glacial/s, but they
are the nearest modern relative of the
ancient trilobite, one of the earliest forms
of life. In late summer Jack's tanks are
alive with them. When the water dries
up they lay eggs in the mud, which hatch
when the next rain falls. It was an odd
coincidence to find the fossil and the live
organism, separated by millions of years, in
the same spot — the only place in Utah
where either of us ever found "live trilobites."
How they can survive in such a
desert is a mystery.
Jack then took us to Blind valley, his
little desert empire. As he enthusiastically
pointed out its advantages for winter grazing,
it was easy to understand why he had
been held to that lonely spot for so many
years. By controlling that hidden valley
he was king of the desert for 40 miles or
more in any direction.
In a shed back of his cabin Jack kept a
JUNE, 1944
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HOTCH PH. _••:,,,.•••;••:
small truck with plenty of spare parts. He water ran out. That possibility always
went to Black Rock, 40 miles south, two or hung over his head. He often had run
three times a year for supplies. He kept short, but his holes had never been enthe
truck in good repair, since it was his in- tirely dry.
surance against dying of thirst in case his After returning home from that trip I
:
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