The Mojave Heathen - Robert F. Clifton (best books to read non fiction TXT) 📗

He’s into everything, furniture manufacturer, oil, banking, software. Most of all he owns he inherited from his father. However, he is a passionate, amateur, archeologist. He has bugged me for years to allow him to go on one of my projects. I’m sure he will back us, providing of course his name is mentioned, should we make a discovery. Do you have any problem with that?”, asked Edith.

“Me? Hell no. Besides, you’re the head of the project. You will publish the names of those involved if and when we find something.”

“Very good, then I’ll get ready to make my plea from good, Old George. I’ll let you know how I make out.”

**************

One month later, Doctor Benjamin Cortland after coming off the passenger jet at San Francisco Airport walked into the concourse. As the line of people in front of him thinned he was able to look ahead at the crowd of greeters. Then, he saw Edith

Shipley. She hadn’t changed much. Small, short, petite, standing about five feet tall in heels, what she lacked in size she made up

for in brains. She was a brunet with dark, brown eyes. The years of working in the sun on professional digs had caused crows feet wrinkles to form in the corner of her eyes. The same sunlight freckled her nose, arms and the back of her hands. She wore the freckles as a badge of honor proving her time on the digs was real and any fame that came her way she had earned and not given to her because of her position as a woman.

When he got to her she reached up and put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Ben, it’s so good to see you again. How was your flight?”, she asked.

“Long, but I used the time to read and re-read Hopkins journal again. I made copies of his ledger and sent the original to you. Did you get it?”, he asked.

“Yes, about a week or ten days ago.”

“Good, what about my luggage?”

“They arrived about the same time”.

“Well, if you thought to place them in your automobile all you have to do is drop me off at some hotel.”

“Nonsense. You’ll stay with me. I have a three bedroom house. Besides, I have many things to discuss with you.”

“Such as?”, he asked.

“Such as making plans for this dig for one thing.”

“I take it Bingham’s still in with his money?”

“Yes and the permit is being issued to the University. However, the body reserves the right to name which and how many students can work with us.”

“Is that a problem,” he asked.

“ Not for me. They have assigned only four students. Do you have any thoughts on this matter?”

“No. I assume these are the best of your students.”

“They are.”

“Then it figures that the University has the permit, you are the project director it is only right that you have the brightest assisting on the dig. I have no problem with that.”

“Good. Are you hungry? We can eat here at the airport or stop someplace along the way.”

“Edith, I’m fine. I’ll eat when you do.”

“Then,” I’ll make something when we get home.”

On the drive to Palo Alto Edith and Ben spoke of old times and old friends, some dead, some still alive, some their where abouts unknown. “Have you come up with any more information about Hopkins site?”, asked Edith.

“Possibly. Hopkins mentioned that on the day he discovered the body, he had removed several yards of rock and soil. He didn’t say sand. I’m hoping that the place having soil is or is near where he worked.”

“I see, but keep in mind he wrote those words one hundred and sixty years ago. No one knows how many sand storms have blown into that area over that amount of time. The soil you’re hoping to find could be under a ton or more of sand. The other thing is, the body that he found could be completely decomposed by now. I’m sure you thought about that”.

“Certainly, just as I’ve thought about how heat and the lack of humidity preserves. So, dear lady, it’s possible the body or bodies I hope to find are completely dried, intact and presentable.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“So do I.”

It was a short drive from the airport to Palo Alto and Edith pulled into a circular driveway in front of a white, one level home at 1414 Beach Ave. “Here we are,” she said.

“Looks like you live in a very nice neighborhood”, Ben replied.

“Well, it’s quiet. Many of the residents are academics so most of the time they have their noses stuck in one book or another.”

“Does that include you?”, he asked.

“Certainly.”

“Good, then while I’m here I won’t be out of place, Ben replied as they walked to the front door.

Edith unlocked the door and motioned for Ben to enter. When he did he stepped on to a marble floor in the foyer then on to a deep piled, beige rug in the living room. “Where can I put my briefcase?”, he asked.

“Anywhere. Make yourself at home. I think you’ll be here a month. Then, if everything goes right we’ll be heading for the Mojave Desert and Death Valley.”

“You sound like you have some doubts about this, let’s call it an adventure for the time being.”

“Not really Ben. Nonetheless, things happen.”

“Such as?”

“George could back out for one reason or another. The University might change it’s mind and the Federal Government might revoke the permit.”

“Well, none of that appears to be happening.”

“No. I guess I’m just a worry-wart,” said Edith.

“Hey, there’s a lot at stake,” Ben replied.

“Now, what kind of hostess am I. As I recall you enjoy a cold beer. If I’m right it’s Miller High Life. I’ve got a six pack in the refrigerator can I get you one?”

“Sounds good. Will you join me?”

“Certainly. I like a cold beer once in a while. I think it was you that got me drinking it. Although I can’t seem to remember where.”

“It was in Canada. that’s where we found some Clovis points.”

“You know, you’re right. I don’t remember how many I drank on that dig. I do remember having to pee a lot.”

“Beer will do that at times,” Ben said as he followed Edith into the kitchen.

Edith opened the refrigerator door and took out two bottles of beer. “As I recall, we drank it straight out of the bottle.”.

“That’s my girl.”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“ That’s nice to know.”

“Then you should know that so far you’ve made me an old maid.”

“Hey, I’m sure you’ve had many offers or opportunities to marry.”

“Yet, you’ve never asked me.”

“Edith . Take a good look at us. Your successful. You have brains, intelligence, tenure at a leading university. What can I offer you that can compare to that? Would you trade this home of yours for a three room apartment? Job security for sitting and waiting for someone to ask you to join them on a scientific investigation? Right now, that’s all I can offer you.”

“So, I’m supposed to wait until you’re rich and famous?”

“No. but at least until I’m on a par with you. This dig might be what I’ve been looking for.”

“I know, that’s why I sent you Hopkins journal,” she said as she took a sip of beer from the bottle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

George Bingham

 

Near the end of August Edith and Ben met with George Bingham at the millionaire’s home. When Edith introduced the two men to each other they shook hands. “So, you’re the guy that according to Edith has the necessary information for a successful expedition into the Mojave Desert,” said Bingham.

“ Actually, Edith has the information. I have some information, but I’d say right now much of it is based on a theory. Success is like on any archeology research, supported by luck,” Ben replied.

“Ah luck. I see. Speaking of luck while you are here I’d like you to take a look at my collection of artifacts, things that I have discovered over the years,’ said Bingham.

“I’d be happy to do so. Edith has told me of your interest in archeology. Why didn’t you pursue it as a profession?”, asked Ben.

“My father. You see, he considered my interest to be foolish and a waste of time. In sending me off to college he did so with the stipulation that I received an MBA degree rather than one in the sciences. Naturally, I resisted, at least up to the point that it was either the MBA degree or being disinherited. You can see which direction I chose to travel.”

“Yet, you continued your interest in archeology,” Ben replied.

“Ah, yes. Wealth you see has many advantages. For instance that mammoth tusk you see hanging on the wall is what I found on a dig in Siberia. Fortunately, I was able to pay for not only the trip to that part of Russia, but to be included in the research team.”

“Where was the dig in Siberia?”, asked Ben.

“If you are familiar with Siberia then all I can tell you is that we found the mammoth remains in an area between

Adshirkhaydah and Allyan,” George explained.

“Ah yes. I know the area well,” Ben replied.

“Have you been to that part of Russia?,” asked Bingham.

“Yes, in the Altai Mountains,” Ben answered.

“I see. Now then, let’s discuss this proposed research in the Mojave Desert. I’d like to hear from both of you. I need a list of all of the things necessary, from picks and shovels to tents and sleeping bags,” said Bingham.

“Sleeping bags will not be necessary. The university has taken the position that both students and staff on this team be quartered at The Ranch, one of the hotels at Furnace Creek. So far, it’s been suggested that the students stay in the rental cabins.

There will be two young men and two female students assigned to the dig. The students can sleep two to a cabin. When it comes to staff each one of us can have a standard room. Should you desire better George, there are deluxe rooms available,” said

Edith.

“I suggest that we decide now on making reservations, since we will be going into Furnace Creek in November. This is when, if we’re lucky the summer heat has disappeared and it’s cool enough to work. Keep in mind this is also the time that the tourists arrive,” said Ben.

“Then, I take it we can also take our meals at the hotel,” said George.

“Yes, of course no lobster or pheasant under glass,” said Edith.

“Of course,” Bingham replied.

“You might want to consider a security force to protect the site from on lookers and souvenir hunters, “Ben mentioned.

“Good idea. We don’t want to make a discovery only to find it missing in the morning. I can use members of my security

that I use in several of my enterprises,” said Bingham.

“Sounds good. All we have to do now is wait for the government permit,” said Ben.

“It’s my understanding that this is an attempt of yours to find the remains of any Paleo Indians. Is that correct?”, asked George of Ben.

“Yes it is.”Ben answered.

“Interesting. Considering the fact that there are many known tribes and their tribal areas are known and available. Yet you seek those of a long ago time period,” said George.

“What I’m looking for is evidence of ancient Indians who occupied predominately the Southwestern part of North America. There could be other places. I’m looking at a time period of between ten thousand and forty thousand years ago. That’s a longer period of time than all of those cultures you’re referring to combined. They didn’t leave much behind, just bits and pieces here and there. It’s like hunting for a ghost in a dense fog,’ Ben explained.

“Since we’ll be working in a place other than the Southwest, what makes you think that you’ll find what you’re looking for in Death Valley?” asked Bingham.

“The Mojave Desert. it’s thought that eight or ten thousand years ago the Paleo Indians began experiencing a drought. This caused the animals they hunted to leave the area..

Naturally, the people followed. Over time both people and