Yours Sincerely

The Collared Lizard is common to the desert. Harmless to man, most desert lizards are beneficial because of the insects they eat. zone where their needs for food and moisture are supplied. Typical of these escapists are the Desert Mule Deer and the Javalina or wild hog. And the drouth evaders of the animal kingdom, what of them? Among them are the animals that aestivate during the hot, dry summer months. Representative of this group is the Arizona Round-tailed Ground Squirrel which with the coming of the hottest weather, retires to an underground chamber to sleep through the hot season. As with the plants, the drouthresisting animals engage our closest attention. Wild dog of the desert, the coyote, with distance-devouring trot, is a fit representative of the group of desert residents who know where the occasional springs, seeps, and tanks are located and slake their thirst at these. Others, including the snakes, lizards, and insect-eating birds procure much of their moisture from their food. Insects, in turn, obtain juices from the plants thus getting moisture which their bodies pass on to the bird or reptile that devours them. And just as the drouth-resisting plants have discarded or moisture processed their leaves, so many of the animals have reduced their water losses. Lizards and snakes, for example, lose very little water through their scale-covered skins. Their moisture requirements are modest and are cared for by the juicy bodies of their prey amplified by moisture from the summer rains or from other sources encountered in their travels. Their needs are further reduced by the fact that, during hot weather, many reptiles, especially snakes, are abroad during the cool of the night, remaining quiet and relaxed in the shaded protection of cave, crevice, or vegetation during the daylight hours.
Perhaps strangest of all are the creatures who, to all appearances, require no moisture whatever. Certain of the kangaroo rats that have been studied have never been known to drink. Larvae of species of wood-boring insects live for weeks in the heart of dead, tinder-dry timbers. With no visible sources of moisture, how do they exist? Scientists explain that they subsist on the moisture of metabolism, moisture derived from the combination of chemicals released through the process of digesting the dry foods which they eat, Thus like the chemist who, by combining two dry gases, can produce pure water, so these little living chemical laboratories of the desert are capable of supplying their own needs for moisture through the by-products of metabolism. And now we come to man, that water-wasting animal for whom the desert, unless he understands it, is a land of heat, and thirst, and sandstorms, and even death. Yet the history of man indicates that his early civilization de including deep-well pumps, mechanical refrigeration, evaporative cooler, and paved highways man has conquered the desert or, more correctly has developed devices by means of which he can meet the conditions imposed by deficient and uncertain rainfall. With the automobile, the airplane, and the railroad he can escape from the desert. The modern home with its cooling system, its electrical refrigerator, and other devices permits him to evade the heat and drouth. Can he resist the desert? To a certain extent if he understands it and himself. Unlike the plant or the reptile that has reduced its evaporative surface, man must give his skin full play for his delicate cooling system is of the evaporative type requiring the passage of great quantities of water. But if man cannot absorb water in his own tissues, he can carry it with him in tank or canteen. If he cannot reduce his own requirements, he can assure himself an abundant supply. In emergencies, he can extract enough from some of the desert plants to maintain life and, like the snake, he can relax in the shade during the day and travel at night.
The Giant Desert Hairy Scorpion is not a creature to be kept as a pet.
The mantis is one of hundreds of soft-bodied insects which provide foods and moisture for desert birds, bats, reptiles. (Pictures by Natt N. Dodge.) One of beauty. An evening on the desert is a memorable event. veloped in the deserts. Ruins of such civili-zations abound in Arizona. Impeded by the severe requirements, progress of civilization continued in the cooler, moister climes. Now an advanced civilization has returned to the desert to exploit its riches and to enjoy its advantages of climate. of scenery, and of econo-mic opportunity. With modern development through application of scientific principles through mechanical de-vices, man has accomplished for himself what Mother Nature has done for plants and animals. He can live safely and comfortably in a land of deficient and uncertain rainfall. He gains health in its cli-mate, and enjoyment and inspira-tion from its scenery and its inter-esting inhabitants. He can earn a livelihood through the utilization of its rich and varied resources. It is a strange land, an enticing land, a land of glorious sunsets and a sky ablaze with stars. Behind the western mountains' granite doors the smouldering fires of the day burn low reflecting on the cloud-smoke, far above, the dying embers' rich and ruddy glow. Fan-ned by the evening breeze, a restless spark flares up to send a shaft of saffron fire across the shadowed earth. Far to the east it paints a cloud and gilds a mountain spire. Night settles down on silent velvet wings releasing bats and crickets on the way, swings shut the western doors, adjusts the drafts, and banks the fires to await another day.
New World Oasis an afternoon with children of the Pharaohs' Gardens.
Nestling at the foot of the mountain which is shaped like a camel, eight miles north and east of Phoenix, there is an exotic garden offering graceful proof of the resurgent magnificence of antiquity. Like the columns of an ancient Grecian temple, the sturdy trunks of the stately date palms hold aloft the crowns with their pendant clusters of golden fruit. The culture of dates, although comparatively new in this country, is probably civilized man's first agricultural accomplishment. Hammurabi's code, the world's first written law, contains a section governing the distribution of the date crop between owner and tenant. The date palm has a place of significance in every religion. The earliest Syrian clay tablets describe in detail the proper procedure for artificial polination of the date palm, and to this day scientists have been unable to improve upon these direction which were set forth in man's earliest writing. Bearded Bedouin fathers of the tribes of Islam repeat this story to their children. “. . . Mary, the mother, was heavy with child and the journey was long. When they came to the city, Joseph helped his wife from the camel and spread robes upon the ground before an old Bael palm and the mother rested. Whereupon, the crown of the palm burst forth in new life, making a canopy to shelter Mary. And a spring of pure water gushed from the feet of the palm. When the child, Jesus, was born, his mother washed him in water from the spring and the fruit of the palm gave her nourishment for the suckling child."
In the Old World rich men are judged by the quality of palms in their gardens. Since the days of the Pharaohs, the princes of Arabia have regarded their dates as their most priceless possessions.No living thing in all this world has been so zealously guarded as the date palm protected by religion, legend, and the courage and pride of the Arab rulers.
Nature established the first of these protective barriers by making dates selective. When propagated from seed, no two palms will be alike. Both mother and father produce off-shoots. These off-shoots grow out from the base of the parent tree and their sex is always that of the parent. When the children are planted, the fruit of the female is identical with that of the mother and the pollen blossom of the male identical with that of the father.
Because of this purity of reproduction, going back over 10,000 years, the date palm is the most highly bred of all living things. The Khalasa harvested this year in Arizona will be identical in flavor and appearance with thefruit gathered in the famous garden of King Tutankhamen's mother.
There are five varieties of rare, high quality dates which have been proven commercially important in Arizona. The Iteema, a West African variety, produces a large date and under favorable conditions will yield more and better fruit than any other soft date. However, the Iteema is sensitive to rain damage and the children are extremely hard to grow. The Maktum, Sayer, Hawaizi and Khalasa all come from Central Arabia. The Maktum produces a large date, highly rain resistant, and the yield is consistently good. Solomon grew Maktums and this variety is considered today, by many people, the best of all com-mercial dates.
The Sayer is a hardy palm, producing good yield and extremely large fruit.
The Hawaizi (or Dayri) produces a dark purple date. It's distinctive color makes it desirable for mixed packs. Its children are easily grown and it is the hardiest of all palms.
The Khalasa, prized above all others by the Arabs for its fine flavor, is slow in bearing, the fruit is small, and the yield is still an un-known factor. For the connoisseur of date flavor the Khalasa must be included here, but its commercial importance is doubtful.
Soft fresh dates should not be confused with the dried commercial pack of imported dates familiar to most of us. The full, rich flavor of a fresh date is beyond description. And among fresh dates the rare varieties grown in Arizona stand out as vastly superior.
Fresh dates contain, largely, "Invert" or pre-digested sugar. They can be used by many people to whom sugar is denied, and fresh dates contain more Vitamin "E" than any other natural product.
The date gardens of Colonel Dale Bumstead are famous throughout the world. In his garden there are more Iteemas, more Maktums, more Khalasas, than in any garden outside of Arabia. In one year one acre produced upwards of 35,000 pounds of dates, making this planting unquestionably the richest agricultural acre in the world. In the state of Arizona there are more top quality rare date palms than anywhere else in the New World.
Outstanding authorities on the culture of date palms claim that the Arizona Orchard rivals the excellence of the garden of Ibn Saud at Hofhuf. Princes of Arabia have made the long pilgrimages to stand in the gardens of Dale Bumstead and marvel at the growth and the vigor of these "daughters" of the ancient desert.
To the visitor standing on the ground in the shadow of these tall "daughters" of the desert, the date garden manifests a feeling of tranquil peace. A feeling of reverence takes possession of the most worldly men. Both Arab and Christian visitors have acknowledged this influence. The Arab visitors invariably turn to the East, where lies Mecca, and make their prayers to Allah. Perhaps the physical beauty of the gardens alone is responsible for this. The stately, sturdy trunks support an almost solid mass of palm leaves fifty feet over head. Perhaps it is the subdued soft shadows on the ground, underscored with patches of bright sunlight.
Perhaps it is the age old history communicating in some mysterious fashion its message of life to infinitesimal man. The physical greatness of the palms undoubtedly contribute to this atmosphere. At least the sense of peaceful well being is not so overpowering in the younger planting. But among the elders, the giants who have given their children to this new industry, this demonstration of nature is both pleasant and reassuring.
The story of this great agricultural adventure, the development of the culture of dates in Arizona on a commercial scale, is so closely linked to the life story of Eva and Dale Bumstead that one can not be told without the other.
In 1917, Dale Bumstead, a business man with an engineering background, was central division manager for the I. E. duPont Company, with headquarters in Chicago. In that year of our entry into the first World War, Russia was then our ally as she is today. The duPont Company asked a few of its top men to go to Russia to help with the organization of that country's war effort.Dale Bumstead volunteered for this service. He resigned as president of the Chicago En-gineers Club, closed his Chicago home and, ac-companied by Mrs. Bumstead, set out on the first leg of a journey which ultimately brought him to Arizona.
After seven months in Russia, the Bumsteads
Stately Iteemas and Maktums in the original garden planted nineteen years ago.
returned to Washington where Mr. Bumstead was commissioned in the Army Ordnance Department and assigned to work on explosives and components for the General Staff.
When the war was won, Colonel Bumstead and his wife came west seeking a climate which would relieve Mrs. Bumstead's asthma. And in 1921 they settled in Phoenix.
The prospect of orderly, irrigated farming in the Salt River Valley appealed to the Bumsteads. The Colonel's mind, schooled to operations within exacting engineering limits, approached agriculture as a scientific venture. Date palms in the University of Arizona's garden at Tempe, the first experimental planting in the United States, excited Colonel Bumstead's curiosity. Here was a crop that would pay big dividends and here was a challenge. To grow dates successfully on a commercial scale would require infinite care and considerable research.
The only commercial date gardens in the United States were located in California's Coachella Valley where Dr. Walter Swingle of the Department of Agriculture had encouraged the propagation of Deglet dates, a West African variety. For the purpose of their experiment, the Bumsteads purchased some acreage north and Then they began an exhaustive study of dates and date propagation. Much to their surprise, they soon discovered that although French planters in West Africa held the Deglets in high regard there was an African palm, the Iteema, which produced superior fruit.
There was at that time a controversy between the experts as to the most suitable and profitable variety for American cultivation. The Bumsteads turned to the Arabs for further information. In Central Arabia the Maktum. the Hawaizi and the Khalasa were considered far superior to all other varieties. The name, Khalasa, means "quintessence." Maktums and Hawaizis grace the garden of every important prince and ruler. In many ways the climate in the Salt River Valley is identical with that of Arabia. Our rainfall is the same as that in Biskra, Algeria. The Colonel and his lady reasoned that if these were the choice varieties of the Arabs they should do equally well here.
But no sooner had the Bumsteads settled on the varieties to be planted, than they found themselves face to face with what might have been an insurmountable barrier.
The off-shoots could not be imported, for the Arabs, jealous of their rare palms, decreed capital punishment for anyone guilty of removing their prize "children."
Despite this prohibition, two Americans, Dr. Walter Kearney and Paul Popenoe, the noted geneticist, had made successful importations of off-shoots.
Dr. Kearney was sent to Africa by the Department of Agriculture. He returned with a vast quantity of Deglets and a carefully selected odd lot of some of the rare varieties.
The Deglets were planted on a commercial scale in California and the rare varieties, were distributed among the existing gardens for experimental planting.
Dr. Kearney had secured a few Iteemas and Dr. Walter Farries, a retired medical missionary who had spent most of his life in China, took a fancy to the Iteemas and began to collect them from the other growers.
Popenoe was sent to Central Arabia by some of the date growers in Coachella to secure, if possible, the rare dates of that region.
Unquestionably the finest gardens in the world were at Hofhuf, Ibn Saud's capital city. And Hofhuf was forbidden to white man. Popenoe approached to within three hundred miles of the forbidden city and established his headquarters at a desert oasis. There was considerable personal danger in being even this close to the capital, but Popenoe went resolutely forward with his plan to purchase Maktum, Hawaizi, and Khalasa off-shoots.
this close to the capital, but Popenoe went resolutely forward with his plan to purchase Maktum, Hawaizi, and Khalasa off-shoots.
Finally, arrangements were completed with a well recommended, trusted Arab who agreed to attempt to purchase the prized "children." After several weeks the Arab returned to the oasis, bringing five or six camels loaded with off-shoots. The quantity was a disappointment to Popenoe, but the Arab had an alibi. He claimed he had, by great stealth and cunning, accumulated hundreds of the finest "children" from the gardens of Ibn Saud's capital. But, alas, on the return journey some unprincipled Bedouins had attacked the camel train, stealing both the animals and their priceless burden.
Popenoe realized the story was a fabrication but nothing could be done about it. He returned to the coastal regions of Arabia, purchased additional off-shoots of some less desirable varieties, and shipped the "children" to California.
When Popenoe arrived in Coachella, he discovered that many of the date growers considered his mission a failure and perhaps from the standpoint of quantity it was. However, it is to Popenoe's everlasting credit that despite the failure of his Arab agent he was able to return with a few sturdy Khalasas, Maktums and Hawaizis and practically all of the palms of these varieties in the United States today are the "children" of the off-shoots secured by Popenoe.
Since the importation of a new planting of these rare varieties was impossible, the Bumsteads set out deliberately to buy up the palms already here. They purchased all of Dr. Farries' Iteemas. For months Colonel Bumstead haunted the date gardens in Coachella, ready to bid for any palm. Some of the prices he paid were ridiculously high. On the other hand there were a few growers anxious to sell the one or two odd palms in their various gardens. Some growers demanded that the Bumsteads transplant Deglets to fill the vacant spaces in their garden caused by the removal of the rare varieties.
By 1924 the Bumsteads were ready to make their first planting. Growing palms, some of them 20 feet tall and weighing several tons, were shipped by rail to Phoenix and then trucked to the Arizona Orchard. The ground had to be carefully prepared. The palms were to be planted twenty-four feet apart. Holes ten feet deep had to be dug, then partially filled with fertilizer and loamy soil. Into these holes the balled roots of the palms were placed. In all, about sixty trees were transplanted, covering practically one acre of ground.
The original investment in that one acre was tremendous. It was a desperate gamble. It would take five years for the off-shoots to come into production, and another five years before the transplanted palms would begin to bear.
During these years the numerous "children" of those original palms were planted beside their elders, increasing the size of the garden to a full twelve acres.
In 1928 the Bumsteads harvested their first crop of commercial size and the problem of marketing presented itself. Colonel Bumstead made a trip East with some of the first fruit. Those Arizona dates created a furor in the market places. Nothing like them had ever been offered for sale in the United States.
Today Arizona dates are in demand everywhere. They bring premium prices, and Colonel Bumstead believes the market would readily absorb at least forty times the present volume.
The production of dates requires skillful handling, and many unique operations. The bloom of the female palm is not fragrant. There is no incentive for bees to transport pollen from the highly seented male bloom. Consequently, artificial pollination is necessary. The female bloom is smaller and resembles a white lily. In the spring, sprigs of the male bloom are cut from the tree and tied in the very center of the female blossom.
When the young dates are about the size of hazel nuts, alternate dates are removed by experienced "thinners." The date clusters are covered with heavy water resistant Kraft paper bags, open at the bottom. These covers protect the fruit from rain and from the birds. Although the bags are open at the bottom and the dates are exposed to the sunshine, the birds, fearing a trap, do not fly up inside the protective wrapper.
Beginning in October, successful harvesting requires that each individual date be plucked by hand. The fruit is rushed from the field to a modern packing plant where it is exposed in carbon bisulphide gas to destroy any parasite life.
The dates are taken from the gas chamber, washed, polished, and sorted for size and grade. Leaving the grader, the dates are placed in shallow trays constructed of mesh screen bot-toms. The trays are carried to the spotless maturation room where electrically controlled temperatures and humidity complete the ripening and coloring process in approximately twenty-four hours.
When they leave the maturation room, the trays of dates are trundled into the spotlessly clean packing department where carefully selected women packers prepare the crop for market.
This entire processing operation has been inspected and checked by federal inspectors of the Pure Food and Drug Administration and the Bumstead plant enjoys a super-excellent rating.
Under proper conditions, soft dates can be kept for six or eight months without any loss of flavor or food value. But the demand for Arizona dates in the eastern markets is so high that Arizona shippers find it difficult to ship their dates fast enough. Because there is a ready sale, it is probably true that all of Arizona's fresh dates are eaten by the consumer within less than a month after they start their journey eastward.
Since that first planting in 1923, Colonel Bumstead has weeded out hundreds of poor, unworthy palms. This "thinning" process is unquestionably responsible for the garden's over-all high yield. One good palm will produce up to 600 pounds of choice dates, with the garden's average yield running between 250 and 300 pounds per tree.
During most of the year two men can care for ten acres of dates, but fifteen full time pickers are required during the harvest season. The palms will live and bear for 1,000 years.
Colonel Bumstead, the man responsible for this amazingly successful development, is a modest, cultured gentleman. His talk is flavored with the heritage and history of the palm. To him, and to most successful date growers, these tall, exotic trees have individual personalities. He has named one gigantic Iteema, "Grandma," because her children and children's children grace his garden. His palms must be properly referred to by their variety names; to call them simply "dates" is a grievous transgression of the proprieties.
Colonel Bumstead insists that the Pharoahs had developed the cultivation of dates to a higher degree and knew more about them than we know today. He prefers to describe his contribution to the agricultural wealth of our Valley as a "rediscovery of an ancient art."
"We lean on the learnings and wisdom of the ancients," says the Colonel.
Credit for the success of the New World date gardens properly belong to Dr. Forbes of the University of Arizona and to C. E. Simmons who worked under him in the experimental garden at Tempe, to Dr. Kearney, to Leonhardt Swingle and to Paul Popenoe.
Inspired by Bumstead's success, others have planted additional acres. The Gilliland Groves, a highly successful ten acre garden grown with off-shoots from the Arizona Orchard, the gar-dens of Commander Joseph Madison Greer, and the recent plantings of Clarence Budington Kelland, are the most notable.
At Tal-Wi-Wi and the Arizona Orchard, the combined gardens of Colonel Bumstead, there are more Iteemas, more Khalasas and more Hawaizis than in any other garden in the New World. Arab visitors have told Colonel Bumstead that his gardens contain more of these rare varieties than there are in a single planting in all of Arabia.
In the last year of "free trade," the United States imported 70 million pounds of dates.
Most of these were of the processed commercial variety used by bakers and candy makers. In the future this tremendous demand should bring additional expansion in Arizona's production of both fresh and processed dates.
The market for further planting already exists. Unfortunately, the number of available off-shoots from suitable parents is limited. Date experts estimate that it would require a minimum of ten years and an expenditure of at least $6,000 per acre to replace the Bumstead garden. As other gardens come into production the number of high quality offshoots will be increased. Within these limits the prospects of success for carefully selected date plantings is bright indeed.
Tal-Wi-Wi means, in the language of the Hopi Indian, "the land the sun first shines upon." It is a poetic description of Colonel Bumstead's amazing 1120 acre agricultural empire thirty-five miles west of Phoenix. Here, on land which less than twenty years ago was virgin desert, Colonel Bumstead has more than 35 acres of rare dates . . . the choice sons and daughters taken from the parent trees in the original plantings.
This magnificent new garden is laid out in blocks and the planting has been in progress for a number of years, this time lapse dictated by the number of off-shoots available. Here there are sturdy, rare dates varying in size from producing palms to off-shoots in their second and third year.
It can be truthfully said that the future of the date industry is secure at Tal-Wi-Wi, for this garden contains more rare dates in one planting than there are of these varieties anywhere else in the entire world. And from this garden will come the children to people other plantings.
Children of the Wind and Sun.
The wind and the sun are with these Navajo children from the day they are born to the day they die. They are their constant companions, sometimes kind, sometimes cruel, but always and forever with them, and when the aged Navajo goes to his grave he is not free even then from the wind and sun for they beat against his grave until his still and tired bones must cry for mercy. All traces of the grave are erased so no mound marks his passing; only the wind and sun know his secrets in death as they knew them in life.
Each morning as these children leave their hogan to go out into their world-of-far-horizons to tend to their sheep, the sun is the first to greet them because in the inscrutable ways of their people all Navajo hogans open directly into the east and into the sun bringing back day again to their world after the silent night.
For these children, with their wise old burro, life is a happy adventure. They learn to accept their existence as they accept the wind and sun, patiently and uncomplaining. The angry wind, flinging sand into their faces or hurling upon them winter's fury, is a thing not to be afraid of but to avoid. And the fire in their father's stout winter hogan is warm. Then there are the gentle winds of summer, cooling after the hot sun, and sometimes bringing rain which is a thing to run and sing in. And this is the wind that rustles the branches gaily on their summer hogan chattering of freedom and valleys beyond the hills.
They listen to the tales of their people told by their father and mother and accept the ancient wisdoms as handed down to them by the aged and the learned. Their eyes are big with delight at the stick of candy their father gives them when he has sold his wool at the trading post, and the trading post is always an adventure to them, a thrilling little world in itself so full of wonderful things. Not long ago when the tourists came with their cameras, they stared as solemnly as they were stared at, and then learned that a brighter smile brought a larger and brighter coin. Like their people, they, too, have an eye for a bargain.
The ceremonial dances of their tribe are events in their life that never can be forgotten, and when they went to Flagstaff with their father and mother for the Pow-Wow they saw so many strange people and so many things it seemed their very eyes would burst with all they saw as if there wasn't room to see anything else. All the world is wondrous to them, but all must be considered with dignity and solmenity because that is the way of their people.
And strangest of all to them is the return to their land of some Navajo who has been far away and gone for a long time. How strange he looks in his clothes of a soldier or sailor in the service of his country and how strange, most strange of all, the tales he tells of the sea and the things he has done. Even the old Navajo listen to these tales in wonderment. But the children only understand that they have gone to war for their country and they accept this as it should be because their people and their people's people have been warriors and it is honorable to fight if the cause is just.
And so the days pass leisurely for these children of the wind and sun, each day bringing its lessons, but only the wind and sun remaining forever inscrutable, things not to wonder after, but things wrapped intimately around their lives to be respected and accepted as life itself... R. C.
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