The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 13, 1899, Page 32

- W 0. (9 A f Volg Al.—An e e e Mc juaint old Gulf of Cali- nd those believe : the next There are hundreds ong the Pi the eand wi down t nt only waiting an oppor vengeance upon some pecting age. The Jesuit missionaries who came up the Rio Grande in 1798 on a mission of ( . ation among the were savages the first whites who saw the in th Their diaries several the grewsome the Indians nected with the “land of the always- mad spirit.” The air for miles around the valley of the volcanoes is heavy with foul fumes, and only persons of strong lungs and throats can stand the odors, even several miles away, for more than a few hours. When one has gone to the v 10es the odors are found to be dangerous to ani- mal life unless there a strong breeze blowing to c phur-laden air away oubted stories of persons the volcanoes, where th heavy with in a few minut fessor Smedl up an appa & rubber bag full of pure exploring among the live cas In some work when he into the vall the Indians he not been > stagger and fall by several com- who, at the risk of their own hed in to his rescue, he would have died in a few minutes. As it was, the whole party was {1l for a week or more from the effects of inhaling the pol- son. The first view of the locality of the vol- canoes from an elevated spot on a hill on the edge of the valley is memorable. The feeling as one gazes over an area of thirty miles under the hot, burning sun of the desert, dotted everywhere by thou- pands of hummocks and mounds, and blue smoke curling up from some of these, and flames and particles of moiten lava from others, is that here indeed is a lfteral in- ferno on earth. The mounds or volcanoes are of all sizes, from that of a hogshead to a mound some 150 to 200 feet high. The majority of them are about fifteen feet high, and are sixty feet in circumference at the greatest point. Most of these Iit- tle volcanoes are active, and when they ere not spitting ferth vapor and lurid as | Uncannt Land Tver Krown as ““RBad Man’s Grolnd,” Where There RAre Inky Blackness and Thol- THE SUNDAY OCALL BL the Colo- Spouting Fire. e boiling and stewing within. The 1 volcanoes, ling, 18 in- grumbling ger volea- zh and area—may An enormous safety- The f is of when of cab- the noise is ck within the as it shoots out, only four or fi large volcanoes thrown The flan louder. volean to b onds are y Test for a year. A few days is the usual perfod of eruption with these, and the periods may be months apart. The valley of volcanoes may be reached only by a boat from Yuma down the Col- orado Riv The journey can be made only at a certain season in the year, and then it ¥ The_danger lies In the treacherous eddies and rapids of the Colorado. There are but few reliable In- dian pilots on the river, and none of them can be induced to go within miles of the valley, which they know as ‘“‘Bad Man's Hunting Ground.” The route is uncertain, owing to the unaccountable freak the stream has of suddenly drying up when it is least expected. The bast time is in May or the latter part of April, because later In the season it gets too hot down -dous thure. Tf the prospective traveler be & good boatman he might be safe in at- tempting the trip by the Cclorado down to the point where it meets the incoming stream, which thus early in the year is always dry. His craft he can safely leave moored to the banks of the Colorado, for in this country there are no roving bands of Indians or predatory boatmen to steal it. There are probably not fifty human beings in that whole region of the mouth of the Colorado from one decade to an- other. The journey across the interven- ing thirty miles of desert and mountain be made by following the dry little river, which will bring one directly to the edge of the basin whereln lies one of the greatest natural wonders of the continent. It is perhaps unnecessary to say that a supply of food and water must be taken. The valley of the volcanoes is about thirty-two miles long and from fifteen to v miles wide. It has been found rveys to be about one-third of a mile north of the line dividing the United States and Mexico, and engineers have ascertained the territory is about 300 feet below the level of the sea. To the north, towering skyward, their snow-covered tops glistening in the sunlight, are the lofty Cccopah Mountains, and to the far west, Just within range of the vision, can be discerned the Coast Range. To the south are also seen rugged crests of an- -] 2 [ o & gerous spot In many ways. A sudden up- heaval of molten earth, a huge rock shot up as from a catapult, or a shower of scalding water—each or all of them may overtake the unwary traveler and for- ever stop his progress. But these are not the greatest dangers, for Invariably any upheaval or violent convulsion of these forces of nature is heralded by a sullen roar and rumbling noises that shake the earth and give one ample warning to get away. The greatest danger is from the suffocating clouds of deadly fumes that perpetually hang over this region and sometimes Insidiously steal down and overwhelm the traveler, or which some sudden gust of wind may drive down with the same fatal results. Far this reason it s dangerous to venture far from the edge of the basin, and even then puffs of other chain of mountains, not so lofty as the Cocopahs, but more broken. Not a bit of vegetation may be seen for over a hundred miles around. The very moun- tains look blasted and spectral. To the east is still another ragged ribbon of rocks jutting out sharply against the horizon. In this rock-hemmed basin are actlve and dead volcanoes, spouting gey- sers, botling springs, a lake of some black, sticky substance resembling Ink, craters that blow out only dry ashes, others that send forth stones and gravel, and still others that belch liquid and blazing streams of mud. There are other holes which emit only lazy puffs of smoke or steam, while from all issues a pungent cdor of brimstone. Stran in contrast with this area of fire and destruction there are numerous springs of clear, sparkling cold water, exquisitely grateful to the pal- ate parched by the heat and the sulphur- ous fumes. What is more peculiar is that the springs of cold water are often found in proximity to the hot springs and separated from them only by a few yards. This 18 a land that has never been trav- ersed. Human beings have tried it, but they never return to teil of their experi- ences or of their discoveries. Little heaps of bleaching bones can be seen scattered about here and there over the lava-strewn surface of the ground. Bones of animals also lie about, telling the story of the fatal wanderings of animals. It is a dan- thess death-dealing clouds may sWoep down upon one. The only thing to do In such an emergency is to run for it and get as far as possible from the place. Several times members of the recent ex- pedition among the volcanoes were sud- denly overcome by the poisoned atmos- phere, and their lives were possibly saved by their dropping prostrate on the ground; but still enough of the poisonous vapors were inhaled to cause a feeling of sick- ness and nausea that did not wear off for several hours. The scene s one of violent contrasts of glaring whites and dead blacks. Some parts of the valley are wastes of hot sand, drawn in places into high mounds by the whirling blasts that sweep down THE LATE ROBERT BONNER N all his long business career in this country the late Robert Bonner was recognized as a man of versatile ge- nius, but in not one of the many things he did, and did so well, did he fill so much of the public eye and be- come universally known as when he took up the role of horseman. This happened forty years ago, when in 1858 his health began to suffer from the continued strain of overwork. “You must take some outdoor exercise, some daily relaxation,” sald his doctor. “Can you drive horses, do you know any- thing about horses?” 0, replied Mr. Bonner, “I do not, that is to say, I know very little, but if you think a daily drive behind a pair of good trotters up the road will be bene- fictal T will soon learn all that is needed.” And with the intense earnestness char- acteristic of the man he kept his word as to learning the part, and soon became not only one of the most expert but one of the most unique and picturesque figures among the horsemen of America. Mr. Bonner was a Presbyterian of the old school and a pillar of the church, but he from the first developed a keen love for the trotter, and in an interview about twelve months ago, in which he defended his large expenditures in trotting stock, amounting to more than $500,000, he stated that his contributions to the church far exceeded that figure. He was a strong personal friend of Dr. John Hall and Henry Ward Beecher, and spent hours in conversation with them, but the following day found him equally at home and fully as enthusiastic discussing pedigrees and performances Splan or Doble. He seemed to have an equal facility ais- cussing a point of theology dogma as he had in describing the anatomy of the horse’s foot. of which he had made an especial study. A regular attendant at church, Mr. Bonner was at the same time a keen follower of the trotting turf, tak- ing a deep iInterest in all the races he witnessed, especially when the finishes were close; and with him It was always in regard to heat or race winners, “How are they bred?” Though he owned at times all of the past kings and queens of the trotting turf, he had conscientious scruples against racing them. At most they only appeared at rare intervals for exhibi- tion purposes, without fee or reward of any kind. From a horseman’s standpoint, however, Mr, Bonner stood forth promdnently as the ploneer of amateur road driving as a heaithful recreation. Long before the days of Commodore Vanderbilt and the sealskin brigade, and years before the civil war, Mr. Bonner was driving his first pair, Lantern and Light, up Third avenue, then a plain road, innocent of ele- vated railroads and unshackled of the cable lines. He believed and lived up to. the bellef that the best horse that blood and train- ing could produce for the trotting track ‘was not too good for a gentleman to drive on the road. His theory was that If a horse that could trot in three minutes was desirable, then a 2:20 horse was even more with “Johnny” Murphy, 80, and it was this idea, carried to its logical conclusion, that induced Mr. Bon- ner to successively buy the champion kings and queens of the harness turf. For three or four years previous to his purchase of Dexter Mr. Bonner took his dally spin behind Flatbush Maiu and Lady Palmer, two mares that he had made a splendid road team of by sympathetic treatment and studying their peculiarities. This bond of sympathy between Mr. Bon- ner and every horse that he urove was a notable feature. Even Dexter, the In- tractable, the horse that was going to run away and kick everything to smithereens and g0 on, was subdued by fit. It was in 1867 when Dexter was pur- chased for $35,000. The gelding had bee: in Budd Doble’s charge. Doble, when he heard of the sale, sald: “I'll have him back again in three weeks, Mr. Bonner can’t drive that horse on the road.” But Mr. Bonner 414 drive Dexter, and made 2 most pleasant roaa horse of him. 8ix weeks after Doble’s remark he went to Mr. Bonner and asked to borgew the bridle with which the latter was driving Dexter every fine afternoon in .Central Park. Said Mr. Bonner: “You can see the bridle, Mr. Doble, and have it If you wish; but it is not the bridle or bit; it's what is behind all that—a feel- ing of sympathy between tne horse and the man.” Some time later, in 1583, after Dexter had lowered the trotting record to 2:17%, Mr. Bonner offered $100,000 for any trotter that could equal or surpass that time. The offer was made on October 14, and held AND HIS good until the end of the trotting season, but no challenger appeared. A year or two ago, in his last published interview on his reminiscences of the trotters, Budd Doble sald that it was his firm belief that had Dexter had the ad- vantages of the bicycle sulky and the modern improved tracks he could have come very close to the best record of to-day. Every one who knew Mr. Bonner knew what a stickler he was for the fact that the 2:08% made by Maud S was the cham- pion record. It was made to an old fash- joned high wheeled suiky, and though of late years many horses with faster rec- ords than Maud S have tried to beat it to a.palr of high wheels, all have fafled. Mr. Bonner rarely bought a horse at a public sale, thcugh, strangely enough, the last purchase he made was from a eale at Madison Square Garden. This was when he bought Praytell, by Axtell, for $5100. Mr. Bonner made a profound study of the anatomy of the horse’s foot, and many is the mixed, rough gaited one that he has converted into a straight going, pure galted trotter. Following is the st of the horses bought and driven by Mr. Bonner in the forty years since he took to the pleas- ures of the road: % Year of ame— purchase. Price. Lantern and Light (team).....155 39,000 Flatbush Maid $61 1500 Lady Palmer 1880 5,000 Peerless 1860 5,500 Lady Woodruft 3,000 Pocahontas . 40,000 HORSES. Auburn Horse . Dexter Bruno . Joe EllI Mamie B Btartle Edward Everett Mambrino Bertie i Ada Duroc 1250 dy Stout 1000 Prince Imperial e Grafton . 15,000 Molsey 6,000 Music . £.500 Wellesley Boy 12,000 Walton .. 3,000 Maltce and Manetta (team) 2,000 Eric . 4,000 John Tay 35,000 May Bird 9,500 Maud Mace: 10,000 Centennial 3,000 Lucy Cuyle 3,000 Edwin Forrest . 1877 16,000 Rarus . 1879 36.000 Conroy 1880 4,000 Richard . 1830 6,000 Dalsy Darling 1530 000 Nutbourne .. 1881 %00 Escort .., 1852 8,000 Halcyon 1882 4,000 Keene Jim 1882 4000 Russella 1883 8,000 Maud 8 s 40,000 Sunol . 41,000 Ansel . 890 8,000 Praytell . 593 5,100 Nothing has yef en definitefy decided as to the Bonner stock farm at Tarry- town, N. Y., the home of Ansel, Startle and other stallions and some thirty-five or forty mares. The recent death of A. A. Bonner removed the only one of Mr. Bonner's sons of pronounced sentiments as to horse breeding. 'Though the other sons are skilled reinsmen, friends who speak with some little authority think it improbable that the Tarrytown farm, founded some quarter of a centurv since, will be continued. the canyons of the mountains that wafl this valley of desolation. There, too, I8 the curious ‘‘self-rising earth.” As far a8 the eye can see it appears in curving outline, up and down, as if puffed up by & natural yeast. The unfortunate crea- ture who steps upon the little hills will erash through, for they are not much more than fragile crusts. Beneath is a swamp of thin, sli . salt mud of un- measurable depth. Still stranger is that section of the valley which, for want of & better name, is called ‘“‘salt earth.” In- numerable pinnacles, tapering to points as fine as needles and over a foot long, rise In close array from the grou These are as hard as stone and as dan- gerous as sharpened steel. This land is a desolate waste of inan- fmate mineral objects. The volcanoes have symmetrical, sloping sides, and each has the same distinguishing characteris- tic—a crater. Some are dead, having been extinct for ag of these are nearly filled with ashes or solld masses of lava which have cooled. One of these extinct craters, near the edge of the basin, s on a mound whose apex is about twenty feet above the sur- rounding level. This mound is one of the largest in the region, and its base covers two or more acres. The crater is fully seventy feet across and is fllled with water 5o clear that one can see the sides of the crater for many feet below the surface; but farther out this little ele- vated lake is practically bottomless. A line with a sinker attached fell 300 feet and did not touch the bottom. One never sees & bird there. Not even a bug has been known to venture into this valley of death. As for trees or vegetation of any kind, there is none. Even the cactus, that friend of the desert, cannot find root here. At the springs of cold water not a blade of grass or a tuft of moss finds life. A very Interesting object In this land is a huge volcano that is on the outskirts of the valley proper, and therefore easy to study. It is fifty feet high and has a sircumference of 800 feet at the base. It 55 an active volcano and is the largest elevation in sight, though there may be bigger ones farther in the interior never discovered by man: but a circuit made entirely around the edges of the basin has falled to find its equal In size or any- thing even approaching it. It is an ac- commodating monster. It has regular pe- riods of unrest, and whenever it wants to spit fire or vomit rocks and molten mud it gives notice of {ts intentions by 4 peculiar roar before which all other Jounds become stilled. It groans as if with a mighty pain, and if one should thance to be standing on the edge of the crater and preserve his balance long enough to take a good look inside he would see masses of molten matter far down begin to heave and boil and surge up and down with convulsive moves. That is an opportune moment to de- part. In a quarter of an hour the bub- bling, seething, rumbling caldron within has risen to the level of the crater and its streaming red-hot contents are pour- ing over the sides, while with an increas- ed thunder and splurging noise little col- umns of lava spout up into the air and lumps of mud and stones are thrown out and shot far away. These convulsions last only a few minutes, and then the old fellow takes a rest for a period vary- ing from thirty-six to seventy-two hours. It takes twenty-four hours, however, for the ejected matter to cool sufficiently to permit one to approach the crater. What this volcano does is repeated on a small- er scale by all the other active volcanoes, and, as they are countless in number, it follows that the din of eruption is con- tinuous and well-nigh deafening. The alr is always murky with smoke and steam, and cinders and particles of dirt and ashes drop so incessantly that one 18 cov- ered with dark yellow dust in a very few moments. Perhaps the greatest curiosity in this uncanny land by the Colorado River is what the naturalists in California call a lake of ink. Scientific journals have dis- Aussed time and again what this lake of ink really is. It is a great pool of a black writing ink, more than anything else. It {s situated about half a mile from the large volcano just described, and lies flush with the ground. It about an acre in area. The surface of the lake is coated with gray ashes from the volcanoes to the thickness of about half a foot, and the explorer in those parts who is not 100k- ing out for this freak of nature would be very apt to walk into it. The Indians have a_score of horrible legends about bad red men who have gone down to frightful deaths beweath the ashes. Sur- veyors have found that the lake is some 300 yards deep in some places, and no bot- tom can be found in others. There is nothing but theory as to the source of the supply for the lake, but no one ‘seems to know the com!p(men[ parts of the acre of black fluld. The Indlans say it is com- posed of the blood of bad Indians, who are suffering in their hell amid the volcanoes. | Samples of the lake have been brought to Yuma and Los Angeles for tests and examination. It has been found good for common marking purposes. Cotton goods that have been soaked with the strange black fiuid keep their color for months, even when exposed to the sun, and the goods have a stiffness that is somewhat like weak starch. A gallon of the lake fluld was sent to the Smithsonian Institutionat Washington the other day for analysis. There is a lake of a somewhat similar fluld in Nicaragua, and it is close beside a group of ancient volcanoes. The black fluld of Nicaragua is a deadiy poison. It | has never been satisfactorily analyzed.