The Desert Smells Like Rain: A Naturalist in Papago Indian Country by Gary Paul Nabhan (review)

266 Western American Literature Francisco cannot. Despite its generally objective tone, Literary San Fran­ cisco offers an affectionate reminiscence which I believe many readers of WAL will find attractive. ARTHUR FRIETZSCHE, San Luis Obispo The Desert Smells Like Rain: A Naturalist in Papago Indian Country. By Gary Paul Nabhan. (San Francisco: North Point Press, 1982. 148 pages, $12.50.) Somewhat surprisingly, only fairly well into The Desert Smells Like Rain does author Gary Paul Nabhan emphasize his specialty as an ethnobotanist . He is studying the origins and cultivation of native desert foods on the Papago Indian reservation of southwestern Arizona. In the mean­ time, we wander about Papago land with Nabhan as he entertains us. For instance, he takes us along on a climb through brush and up cliffs, reconnoitering for an ancient shrine. As we scramble with him, his Papago friends tweak our curiosity with tales of what happened to past visitors who forgot to leave little gifts to I’itoi, the puckish spirit of the cave. As in any good suspense story, Nabhan nearly gives up the search, only to stumble on his goal at the last moment. As the sun sets, he stands wondering over the accumulated offerings of barrettes, bullets, and chewing gum. Quite wisely, he doesn’t forget to leave behind his own token of appeasement to I’itoi. In other chapters we travel through cactus-studded country with insider Nabhan to participate in a rainmaking ceremony, appropriately called, con­ sidering the large amounts of cactus wine consumed, “Throwing Up the Clouds.” We follow Papago children playing hooky; we pay a call to farmer Julian Madrugada and find him protecting his fields against rabbits by sleeping under a tree with his slingshot. We might first think that The Desert Smells Like Rain, with its tales about mischievous Coyote and its anecdotes about Papago families, is a charming but unfocussed book, an entertaining but not profound excursion through an area little known to tourists. As such it would be delightful enough, but Nabhan has a larger, more important purpose. Until now he has been softening us up, showing us how this small tribe’s adjustment to its home land is based on attitudes radically different from our own. He shows us incrementally that in an arid land such as this water is the govern­ ing factor, in the Papago’s case limiting population, determining agricultural methods, shaping the cultural outlook, as the “Throwing Up the Clouds” rite illustrates. Old Julian Madrugada asleep under his mesquite may make us chuckle, but he is no joke. In brief chapters that indicate a larger, more scientific work in preparation, the author shows how native farmers have fine-tuned Reviews 267 their lives “to local conditions over generations.” Their husbanding of flood water has resulted in hardy crops, some of them richer in protein than those we buy at the supermarket. And the little oases formed around springs and mud tanks have created an ecological diversity that will surprise readers who think of the desert as barren. In contrast, modern agribusiness is invading the Papago’s traditional grounds, beginning to ruin these fragile ecosystems as it has done elsewhere throughout the Southwest. The invasion is based on the premise that tech­ nology can “beat the system” of nature. However, as Nabhan points out, people concerned with the future are beginning to see the folly of abusing the land for short-term gains. Plummeting water tables, pesticide wars threatening human welfare, and massive erosion present glaring evidence to the fact that, after only a few decades of mistreatment, nature is kick­ ing back. Yet Nabhan’s book, a delicate blending of science and poetry, touches only briefly on the alarming omens. For The Desert Smells Like Rain is no polemic; it doesn’t have to be. Rather, by its end we are so in sympathy with its nonviolent message concerning the earth that we understand the wisdom, if not the necessity, of reconsidering some of the old ways if we are to provide a sane future for the Southwest. PETER WILD, University of Arizona A Biobibliography of Native American Writers, 1772-1924. By Daniel F. Littlefield, Jr. and James W. Parins...