Document Type

Book

Publication Date

1988

Abstract

During the late spring of 1898, a strange figure made his way eastward through windy San Gorgonio Pass and disappeared into the thousands of square miles of desert beyond. He didn’t know where he was going, his horse carried only Spartan supplies, and, to top off his prospects, he was seriously ill. The few men who watched him leave civilization shook their heads. Surely he would die out there in the uninhabited, bleak spaces stretching off for hundreds of miles, die of starvation, thirst, snake bite, madness—almost pick what you will. At the time, coastal southern California was booming with agricultural schemes and the beginnings of industry, but hope-filled residents contemplating the unappealing regions inland shared a centuries-old notion about deserts. They were useless and threatening, no places for a white man.

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