LETTERS FROM THE SOUTHWEST.

374 ENTOMOLOGICAL ^SOCIETY

LETTERS FROM THE SOUTHWEST.

The Colorado Desert.

By ^{H. G. HUBBARD.}

SAN DIEGO, GALA., February

/, 1879.

I

must

notclose thisletterwithout_describing

my

journey^across the State of California

from

the Colorado river of

Arizona

to the sea.

On

_leaving

Yuma we

^turn

down

stream and run for seven miles inthe bottom lands

back

from the river.

At

_{El Rio,} the old stage ^line crossing of the river,there is

now

but a sign-post rising in solitary loneliness

from

the untrodden sands of the desert,,but the distant river

bank

is

marked by

^{a line of old}grey

cottonwood

_trees, which, doubtless, ^still rear underneath their bark Eleusis fasciata

and

the

numerous

otherColeoptara ^ofDr.

LeConte's _collectingⁱⁿ _1850.

At

this point therailroad climbs

up from

^{the riverbottom onto} the desolate sandyplain

and

heads

westward

towardsthe sea.

A

great^isolated

dome

ofbarren rocks

marks

thispointaround

which

theriver turns

away ^southward

^{in its course tothe} gulf.

Here

begins ^a broad

and

level avenue

between two

lines ofhills

which

rise gradually ^into snow-clad mountains,

and on

this course the iron rails of the Southern Pacific stretch west

by

north, with hardly a perceptible curve to right or ^left, and with not _{a single} cutthrough sand ^hill or rock, across the ^rollsof the continent to the

summit

of the passover the Sierra

Nevada

Mountains.

At

first

we

rise overa

wave

of sand ₅ miles in width.

The

vegetation ^consists of scanty

and

stunted shrubs ; on the north, extending ^{to the foot}of absolutelybarren

and sunbaked

_rocks, and.

on

_{the south,} disappearingaltogether ⁱⁿanendless succession ofwhite sand hills, drifted like the

waves

of the sea.

More and more

desolate

becomes

the country ^as

we

descend into the region beneath the level of the sea.

At Mammoth Tanks

thetrain stops a

moment

^to _drop ^{acake of ice before the doorof} a solitary cot tage, neat

and

trim in a fresh coat of

brown

_paint, but_resting

on

the bare sands besides the_track,with nota greenleaf in sight for miles around.

A

^littlegarden ground, ^laidoutwith white stones instead of_plants, has the cynical notice ^to "

keep ^offthe grass^!"

The

sun of an

August noon

^beats

down _upon

the

unshaded

soil,

but underneath the

shadow

of the verandaof the dwelling^stands a

young

girl,freshandcool in herwhite muslindress, likea

sum mer

_girl at

Newport.

Against ^the wall of the building

by

^her

side rests a bicycle resplendent ⁱⁿ polished metal,

and

near at

hand

a wonderful _figureof a slim athletic

man

ⁱⁿ knickerbockers andred _shirt,decoratedwith

many

^{medalsand witha}

huge

^revol verslung ^{in a leathei bolster at his} hip.

We

did not delay^to

OF WASHINGTON. 375

inquire the

meaning

^ofthisapparition ⁱⁿthe midstof theburning desert sands, but plunged

onward and downward

into the frying

pan

of the continent, 263 ^feetbeneath the oceanlevel.

Away

^{to the south, a}

glimmering

^{line ofwater} begins ^{to^} ap pear,

which

keeps even pace with us, mile

on

_mile, but

grows

everbroader

and more

distinct, until, finally,therestand_out,

upon

itssurface,rocky^islets

and

promontories,

and

thewhitesandbanks of the distant shorearereflected

from

itas in a mirror.

At Vol

cano _Springs, a railroad section _station, with

two

or three

ram

bling buildings, ^built mostlyof railroad_ties,the plain slopes

away

tothe south, ^abald sheet of dead _{clay, like} thedried-up

bottom

of ahorsepondⁱⁿ

midsummer.

Its surface is

seamed and

streaked with_trickling channels of

some

_{long forgottenflood,} all

winding down

to

meet

the line of glistening water.

It

was

here the passengers,

crowding

^{out onto the} platform ^of the _cars, inquired ofone of the inhabitants the

name

ofthis long

and narrow

lake

which had accompanied

^usso

many

^miles,

^and

were told, although ^not one of us believed the _tale, there

was

no water _there, but only ^a mirage ^{of the} trembling^air

on

the sun- dried

mud.

Itcould not be _credited,for looking

backward

with our

own

_eyes

we saw

the rippling

waves

break

upon

the shores,

and

the shallow waters

growing

^{ever broader as} they receded, opening^{at last}

between

bold rocky headlands ^intoan estuary of a limitless sea, blue asthebay ^ofNaples.

But whether

^a

phantom

sea or lake of brine,

we

rolledalong^itsshores

some

miles_further, getting deeper^into

summer and

_longing for

panama

^hats,

^and

^the

brown mud _becoming

at firstheavy

and

thenwhiteas

snow,

until, at Salton, everything

seemed

_floating in the_air,

and huge

^build

ings,emitting puffsofsteamfrom every pore, stood restinglightly

on

the surface of the water,

and

locomotiveswith trainsofloaded cars

came

_floating inwards bringing^{salt to}

add

to the

snowy

piles that linedour track.

On

_getting

_underway

_again

we

soon crossed overthe_valley, heading^{the lake or}mirage, whichever^it

may

^be,

^and

sped along over plains white with salt

and

underthe

shadow

of _lofty

moun

tains

crowned

with black stormclouds

and

dusted with

snow.

Soon we

rolled into thecoolshadeof the

palms

that clusterabout the hotel at Indio,

where

water,brought

down

in pipes from the

San

Bernardino Mountains,

makes

a green^oasisof grass

and

ver dure.

Here we

had a dinner long ^to be

remembered.

After

wards we _began

the long climb

up

the slope of the ^sierra.

Sand

dunes, with half-buried thickets of desert vegetation, gradually gave

way

^{to rocks}

^and

^cactiwith

clumps

^{of Yuccas.}

At

last a

littlestation,

marked Palm

_Springs

_upon

itsfront,

was

_reached,

and

here a

narrow

iron track lednorthwards into

some

hollowof the mountain,

where

_{they say}lies hidden an oasis of hotels

and palm

trees.

Soon

after leaving^thispoint, the storm in the mountains

376 ENTOMOLOGICAL SOCIETY

burst

upon

^{us in the}valley,

and

rainwithblastsof

wind

obscured the scenery.

I

went

^to _sleep ^for awhile,

and when

I

awoke,

^{behold theearth}

had grown

green with grass.

A

refreshing coolness succeeded the hot breath of the desert.

The

mountains

came

closer

and

the valley rose

between

them,

and

cultivated fieldsofalfalfa

began

^to appear. Finally, groves^of red-limbed fruittrees, with _shining threadsof_irrigation waters, linedour way,

and

at sunsetthe

cows came

_trooping

home

tothefarm yards

wading

knee deep^inclover.

This

was

the end of the desert

and

the

summit

of the divide at

Beaumont. Thence we

whirled

downwards

in the darkness, passing

towns

innumerable, with junctions^toPasadena, Redlands,

Pomona, and many

^{others, well}

^remembered

^names.

At

^last

we saw

the twinklinglights of a great city,

and

the various stations of

Los Angeles were

^called.

LETTERS FROM THE SOUTHWEST.

SaltonLakeinthe Colorado Desert andItsInsectFauna.

BY H.

G.

HUBBARD.

YUMA,

ARIZ.,

March

_{30, 1897.}

In regard ^to

what you

say of the ^insects collected by

me

in the desert

washes

^at

Palm

_Springs,thattheCalifornia desert

was

once an

arm

of the California_gulf,

you

are surely mistaken.

The

shells foundinallthisregion are^allfresh-waterremains;

and

themarine shells are found only ^{to the} south of the divide

which bounds

theSalton Sea.

The

desert sands bordering ^thisdepression ^are white withsmall _shells, but _{they are}all of the usual fresh-water forms. I havepreserved a

few

of the smaller

and most abundant

forms. I believe even from

my

^{short visit to Salton that I}

have_{got the} essentialcharacter of the fauna. It contains abso lutely no marine forms and

none

at all'modified

by

^the peculiar environment, _except, perhaps, ^{the brine} fly

(Ephydra), which

^is quite^different from the species inhabiting the GreatSalt

Lake

of Utah.

There

is no Brine

Shrimp (Artemla)

ⁱⁿ anyof the saline springs,

and

it isvery^evidentthatthe origin of the ^salinedeposit

isquite recent

and

even

now

in process of formation

from

the

numerous

saline springs

which

surround the basin both

on

the north

and

south.

At

the surface these springs contain only

from

i to6 per ^{cent, of solid saline} matter, but at a depth ^of

one

^or

two

feetthe brine has a density or 27 per ^cent.,consisting ofboth chloride of

sodium and

sulphate of soda _{(Glauber's salt).}

At

no very remote period ^thisbasin

was

filledwith fresh water, but neither thisnor any other part of theColoradodesertnorth of the

San

_{Jacinto range}

was

ever marine.